Chapter Text
Eventually in everyone's life, you make a mistake that you just can't undo. Whether you regret it or not, some decisions change your life. For better or for worse, like the vows say, sometimes one action can lead to being stuck with someone for the rest of your life.
Though, that is much too pessimistic to match Jungkook's life. He didn't regret having sex. That's why he did it multiple times. And he didn't view the kid that resulted from it as a burden. Even if he was only sixteen at the time.
Jungkook had a family to support him, even if his girlfriend didn't. She made a decision, and Jungkook made his, and Yoongi has been the best thing to ever happen to him. He would pick him over his ex any day. He had been, in fact, day after day, choosing Yoongi over anyone else.
That was why the decision to keep him led to another major decision. Another one Jungkook doesn't regret, even if it hasn't left him alone five years later. He had always been someone who wanted to help people. But sometimes, picking one person over another made you enemies.
Those were just some of the life lessons Jungkook knew he needed to teach this son. He kept them in a journal like a bucket list, doodles and proper drawings with no real order taking up more room than any words. None of them had been ticked off yet. He wasn’t even sure if he would ever be able to complete the list himself. All he knew was that he had a long way to go before his son would be safe on his own.
Which is why, the moment he noticed his son wasn't beside him, he had his phone in his hand before he could even turn around, his feet quick to retrace their steps. Jungkook didn’t panic. He had been trained not to panic.
In another life, Seokjin would have been a spy. Maybe not a good one, but he would have been a spy. He was certainly dapper and charming enough for it. Tall, too. And good looking. All spies were good looking. Plus, he was good at acting. He had all the qualities a spy might, minus the desire to kill anyone. Oh, and he jumped at the sight of spiders and anything remotely scary. He had also been told he was “too loud” before? But a spy whose job was to gather information? Seokjin would have been great at that job.
In a way, Seokjin was already that type of spy. That, of course, isn’t what he or his boss called it, but “data collecting” or “information gathering” sounded so boring Seokjin could just picture himself sleeping at a desk, his drool falling down onto the precious data he had gathered. No, calling himself a spy was just what Seokjin did for fun in his own head.
In reality, Seokjin’s job was to find the best supplies and prices for his boss’ restaurants around town, and if anyone had told Seokjin as a kid that he would grow up one day and get paid to eat, he would have told you to stop being silly and grow up. Running a food blog and having a muckbang channel that also brought him in revenue were just bonuses. The cherries on top. The syrup on his sundae. The sprinkles to top off the perfect ice cream scoop. The garnish to make any plate look more appealing. The—
“Dad, you’re dripping.”
“Oops, so I am. Thanks, kid.”
His kid was a little bit like the cherry on top, too. In fact, sometimes Seokjin looked at Jimin and thought the boy looked like a cherry. He still hadn’t lost his baby fat in his cheeks, and his current haircut made his whole face look round. And when he got nervous or excited or angry, his little chubby cheeks would just light right up, and it was such an endearing trait that made Seokjin so glad the kid was his. Not that he would admit to still blushing at his age, but it was cute when Jimin did it. Five-year-olds could get away with that. Plus, with Jimin’s two little cheeks, all he needed was the stem, and he’d look like—
“Dad! Dripping!”
“Ah, right.”
And his giggle? That was the sweetest topping of all. It was so easy to make the boy laugh that Seokjin found himself getting messy and running the risk of injuring himself on a daily basis just to keep the boy smiling. His daily mission was easily accomplished, then, and today’s particular excursion was almost complete, too.
The new ice cream parlor in the mall was cute, albeit more hype than anything else. The name was too disturbing—Udderly Delicious Creamery—even if Seokjin got the reference and understood the appeal of the cow mascot for a certain audience. The six-foot tall costume walking around was a little much, in Seokjin’s opinion, especially considering it had scared several children and made several people scream. (Not several; just him, but he could save that story for his blog). But as someone who preferred savory over sweet food, ice cream had never appealed much to Seokjin’s tastes. It was overpriced, too, especially considering he could buy all of the ingredients and make his own gallon for the price of—
“Dad!”
“Have you ever considered, Jimin, that I bought this ice cream just to drip all over myself?”
“No, dad, why would you do that?” Jimin asked, giggling as he swung his legs back and forth on the stool he was sitting in.
“Maybe it enhances the flavor,” Seokjin said, bringing his wrist up to lick and making a disgusted face that caused Jimin to burst into laughter again. “Nope, it doesn’t.”
Finally following his son’s lead, Seokjin hurried to lick the rest of his ice cream so he could get to the cone. The cone was surprisingly good. Clearly it was fresh and had been made in the store, so Seokjin would have to give them credit. A good waffle cone was hard to come by, as they were usually just mass produced and put in boxes and left to go as stale as the ones on display before anyone bothered to eat them, so when Seokjin found a g—
“Dad, do you think that boy needs help?”
Seokjin had to admit, he was good at his job. But Jimin? At just five, the boy already had a knack for finding creatures in distress. It had resulted in them acquiring a dog, a cat, a bird, a hamster, and almost a rat—Seokjin had to draw the line somewhere—over the years, and one too many kids found from playgrounds or the classroom or who knows where else trailing behind Jimin with sad eyes asking to be adopted even if their moms were literally five feet away. One day Seokjin was afraid his son was going to accidentally kidnap someone, and it would be the first case of someone trying to help by stealing something. Well, maybe Robin Hood already had claim to that, but—
“Dad! I think he’s crying.”
“Yeah, yeah, finish your cone, then. What’s taking you so long? Hurry, hurry. Wow, how are you so much slower than me?”
“Your mouth is bigger!” Jimin whined, his face scrunching a little as he tried to beat his dad. His task complete as he cleaned off his hands—not jumping when the terrifying cow costume came by to offer him a napkin—Seokjin kept one eye on his son and one eye on the boy across the way Jimin had spotted.
Mission accepted.
In another world, he was tall and strong with a pretty smile. Like his dad. He would fight away every bad guy and stop anyone from hurting anyone else. Like his dad. He wouldn’t be shy or worried or anxious whenever he got lost or was in his crowd. Because his dad wouldn’t. In another world, Jeon Yoongi would stay calm and do exactly what he was supposed to do when he realized he had lost his dad.
But all of his imagination couldn’t even fool himself.
It wasn’t another world, and he wasn’t big and strong.
He was Jeon Yoongi, the smallest in his class. The one who couldn’t do math. The kid that everyone left alone on the playground and whispered about.
And he had lost his dad.
If he was the hero of a story, he would walk up to the closest adult and ask for help or directions. He’d pull out his phone, or, better yet, his tracking device, and soon hunt his dad home on his own. He’d grab a sword from the nearest weapons shop and hop on a wild wolf to tame and bound over the hills, shouting his father’s name as he went.
But he was just in a mall, trying to press himself against the glass of the shop behind him even if it was the reason he had gotten lost in the first place. No, it wasn’t the glass’ fault. He had stopped to look at the robot in the window. It was his fault he had gotten lost. It was his job to get unlost, too. But his daddy had told him once, if he ever got lost, to stay where he was.
That didn’t sound like something his daddy would do. But Yoongi wasn’t his dad. So he stood, and he waited, and he tried his best not to cry as he watched person after person walking by.
Maybe it had finally come; maybe it was finally time for his daddy to leave him. Maybe that warning so long ago was finally coming true. Maybe this was the last lesson Yoongi was ever going to learn from his dad.
His experience over the years told Seokjin positively that going up to any random child ran the risk of appearing creepy, but that’s what he had Jimin for. It didn’t look as weird if you were following your kid over to another kid. At least, that’s what Seokjin told himself. He knew, also from experience, that if given permission—and sometimes even without it—Jimin would run off to help as soon as he could. Seokjin was just along for the ride.
Once their hands were clean, then, and the freaking cow-costume-terrifying-suit-man-thing had thanked them for coming and given them a coupon for their next visit and another one when Seokjin insisted he was owed at least that for almost having three heart attacks every time the guy had approached them, Seokjin lifted Jimin out of his chair and to the ground, holding onto one of his hands as they left the shop. It was open into the mall, so they traversed around kiosks and dodged and weaved between shoppers and swinging bags and kept their eyes alert for the security guards and potential parentals as they made their way to the boy.
He was an ordinary looking boy. Similar to Jimin’s height and age, probably. Dressed in a simple and plain sweater with a cute little beanie on his head. His eyes met theirs a couple of times as they came his way, but he kept looking away like he was trying to find someone else, and Seokjin let Jimin do the talking as they got closer, intent on looking around himself to make sure he wasn’t going to have to defend his kid’s good intentions again before facing another fist—also a story for the blog.
“Hi! I’m Kim Jimin, and this is my dad. Are you lost?” Jimin opened with immediately, and, granted, his outgoing nature was a little surprising to Seokjin sometimes. He didn’t get it from him, that was for sure. His manners and helpful attitude, yes, Seokjin would take credit for any day. But going up to strangers? His kid had a wildness that not even the most seasoned spies would have. A real wild card, that one. Sometimes, Seokjin worried that one day Jimin would say hi to the wrong person, and just like that, he’d—
“Um, no, I’m not lost,” the little boy in front of them said, his back straight and voice serious. “I’m in front of Happy Springs, the mall’s best toy store.”
“Oh,” Jimin said, looking up at Seokjin for help. It was a look Seokjin knew well.
“I got this,” he nodded, squeezing his son’s hand as he squatted down. Up close, he could see how choppy the boy’s haircut was, which reminded him of the time he had cut Jimin’s on his own—never again. “Hi, kiddo. I’m Jin. Are your parents in the store?”
“Oh, no. No sir,” the boy said, shaking his head and looking all around again. He had narrow eyes, but they were as wide as they probably ever were now, and Seokjin had been around the block enough to recognize fear when he saw it.
“Okay,” he said gently, pulling Jimin close to him and patting his side. “Who did you come to the mall with?”
“My daddy.”
“What’s your daddy’s name?”
“Um, I’m not sure if—” the boy mumbled, still looking around.
“I get you, I get you. Best not to divulge top secret information to a stranger. Would you like us to walk you to the security desk? We can call your dad from there?”
“No, my daddy said—daddy said if I got lost to stay where I was. But he—I’m sure he’ll be back soon, but thank you very much, sir, for your help,” the boy said, actually bowing a little. Seokjin saw his own son’s eyebrow go up at that, so he patted his side and shook his head at him before Jimin could comment on it.
“How about we call him, then? Do you know his number?”
“It—” the little boy said, finally looking at Seokjin. The way his mouth opened and then shut, and the way his eyelashes shook felt like tremors under Seokjin’s feet, and he reached his hand out without touching the kid.
“Oh, hey, hey, it’s okay. Phone numbers are hard. There’re so many numbers. No one knows phone numbers these days. No phone number. No name. Your dad’s a real mystery, huh?”
“He’s a good dad,” the boy said, a furrow in his brow that Seokjin would kiss or make disappear with a laugh if he was Jimin.
“Oh, such a good dad, you bet,” Seokjin nodded enthusiastically, realizing he probably looked a little crazy to this terrified child. “How about we stay with you until he comes back, yeah? I have a book in my bag you and Jimin could look at—here, Jimin,” he said, dumping the bag on the floor and rooting around in it past his laptop and bag of wipes—“Wipes! I had them all along!”—to pull out a hardback kid’s book.
“Dad, why do you have that?”
“Because it’s your favorite,” Seokjin said, frowning a little when Jimin shook his head at him.
“When I was three!”
“Oh, well, it’s still really good. Hey, um, kid, can you read?”
“I can read, yes,” the little boy said.
“He can read,” Seokjin said to Jimin with a smile. “Maybe he’ll appreciate my book.”
“I’m—that’s okay, thank you.”
“Well, are you hungry? I could go get you some ice cream, or—”
“Oh, daddy!” The boy’s face lit up as he noticed something behind Seokjin and Jimin, and he dashed passed them immediately, weaving through the shoppers and bags with real skill straight toward a man who was speed walking toward him. The man’s hair was bouncing as he came, his sweats and loose black shirt making it look like he had just come from the gym, and Seokjin nodded at Jimin as the man picked the kid up and swung him around a few times. Clinging to his bag and Jimin’s hand, Seokjin stood up slowly and walked over to the pair, smiling a little when he heard them talking.
“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi, I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! I love you, I love you, I love you,” the boy repeated back, hugging his dad tightly as the man held him against his chest.
“I’m so, so, so sorry I lost you. I shouldn’t have been on the phone. I’m so, so, sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.” Seokjin saw the little boy smile but then blink at his dad, his little mouth moving silently before his dad added, “That’s six.”
“Oh. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” the little boy said, his head nodding with each phrase. “But I’m sorry for getting lost. I shouldn’t have stopped to look at the toy.”
“The toy? What toy? Let’s look at the toy together. I’m so glad you’re safe. What toy? Show me.”
“The robot over there,” the little boy said, pointing in Seokjin and Jimin’s direction. Taking that as his cue, apparently, Jimin waved and tugged Seokjin closer.
“Hi! I’m Kim Jimin. This is my dad, Seokjin. We found your kid.”
“Well, that’s,” Seokjin said, tilting his head a little at the man. But the guy just beamed, first at his kid, and then at Jimin, and then at Seokjin, and Seokjin—Seokjin was as soft as the ice cream he had just eaten. Softer, even. He was the soft serve of ice creams. He had a few weaknesses. Good food, good puns, muscles, and men with babies. Or children. Or him. Men with him would work, too.
“Is that right, Yoongi? Did these nice people help you?”
“Yes, daddy,” the kid, Yoongi, nodded, relaxing into his dad’s hold as if he realized now that Seokjin and Jimin were safe to associate with.
“Well, thank you for your help,” the man said, sticking out a hand for Seokjin to shake. “Jeon Jungkook. This is Yoongi. I seriously can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my Yoongi.”
“Oh, I understand. Me either. With my Jimin, I mean. I’d be lost without him.”
“He’s right. He’s hopeless without me,” Jimin said, sighing a little.
“I’m glad he has you, then,” Jungkook grinned, jostling Yoongi a little in his grasp. “Buddy, you hungry still? Show me that robot and we’ll go eat, okay?”
“Okay, daddy. I am sorry, I didn’t think—”
“If this robot is half as cool as I think it’s going to be, I understand completely why you wanted to look at it. Come on. Thank you again, really. Can I—can I treat you to lunch, or?”
“Nonsense,” Seokjin said, waving the man off, whether he really intended to offer them food or the reaching for his pocket was just an effort to look sincere. Seokjin rarely refused food, and Jimin looked up at him oddly, but Seokjin shook his head at him again to keep him quiet. “It’s our good deed for the day, right, Jimin?”
“Right. Glad to help!”
“Well, thanks. Yoongi?”
“Thank you,” the boy said quietly, not looking at either of them. With another smile, Jungkook readjusted Yoongi to his hip with ease and waved to Seokjin and Jimin before walking away back toward the toy shop to look at the robot. He sounded more excited than Yoongi even did, but Seokjin knew that voice well. It was the high pitched and super enthusiastic voice to cover up your own fear or to try to chase away your kid’s sadness. Yoongi had been right—he had a good dad.
“Well, kiddo, you ready?” he said down to his own who nodded and started to walk him out of the mall.
“Yeah, dad, but you have to get rid of that book. So embarrassing.”
“Sure, Jimin, whatever you say,” Seokjin hummed, glancing back over his shoulder at the man at the shop window squatting down with his son. He looked young for having a kid, but Seokjin wasn’t one to judge. He looked much younger than he really was, too. Convinced that the kid was back in his dad’s safe arms, Seokjin had to pat himself on the back for another mission accomplished.
“All this hard work’s made me hungry. What do you say to ramen?”
“I always say yes to ramen,” Jimin said as Seokjin gently directed him toward the exit.
“Oh, Jimin, the way you make me proud to call you son,” Seokjin sighed, wiping away an imaginary tear as Jimin giggled again and picked up his step. Not one to ever step down from a challenge, Seokjin picked up his feet, his eyes never stopping to look around for any security guards.
One could never be too careful when on a mission to get ramen.
The world was full of bad people, but Seokjin would never let them come between him and food.
Or hurt his kid.
Or stop his kid from eating all the ramen he wanted.
Ramen over bad guys.
Always.