But when long distance communication starts to feel strained, the simple relationship you always had starts to feel like it could crumble at any time - never mind the fact that now there's something bigger binding you together.
> pairing | idol!lee minho x bsf fem!reader
> word count | 91.3k
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst, MDNI
> status | completed
> taglist is closed
> warnings |Â explicit language, drinking, explicit and implied sexual content, oral (F receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (donât do this???), unplanned pregnancy (obviously lol), a little somnophilia kinda if you squint, throwing up (nothing too graphic tho), general pregnancy symptoms, (more tags to be added)
> writer's note | Itâs been literal years since I last wrote anything like this but I had the idea for this fic a few months ago and and couldn't stop thinking about it so here we are. I had not planned on it becoming such a beast of a fic (I'm still editing the final chapters but believe me... it is Long), and now my friends have been nagging me about posting it because it would be a waste to write so much and not post it somewhere - their words, not mine. So here you have it, I hope you enjoy the ride <3
This fanfiction is being cross posted on ao3, click here to read it there.
CHAPTERâS LIST
01. are you not lee minho from cupcake crew?
02. Iâm never buying you food again
03. wait, they were together?!
04. intermission. spring
05. as long as I can still visit the cats
06. do you think there's time to change that?
07. I don't call you stupid that much
08. itâs always more fun when youâre there
09. I need to keep up with my baby daddy?!
10. intermission. summer
11. what is a Lee Know?
12. the pudding magically appeared
13. I don't know what that one is doing here
14. intermission. autumn
15. Iâve been told hospital fashion is all the rave now
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â none, besides this being the end, MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
20. epilogue. spring again
There was a lot to celebrate.
Stray Kids had just completed another year together. Over the past few months, 3Racha had their debut as a unit, all of the members took some time off to work on side projects or just relax and do nothing for once in their life. Relationships had started and ended, but thatâs a completely different story. Miseol grew strong and healthy and was reaching all her milestones in stride. Minho had joined the group back to release a special song as a thank you to Stay and also perform e few special concerts to mark their anniversary.
The reception to his family news was mixed at first but, as time went by, with the continued support of the rest of the group, fans slowly but surely weaned out the bad people. Now fans would always ask him about Miseol under Minhoâs posts, calling her Bun too as the nickname was accidentally shared by a - very regretful - Jeongin. You were not the happiest about it but, as long as her true name and face were kept from the public until she could have the discernment to make those decisions for herself, you were okay.
As for you, you were starting to feel restless at home, and had started working on some side projects whenever you had the time. Your own friends at your company had kept you updated on your old teamâs ups and downs, your presence being greatly missed. You would go back, eventually, but maybe just as a stepping stone for a possible career change. Something you could maybe have more autonomy and not feel so drained all the time. You had different priorities now in terms of where to spend your energy.
âYou ready?â Minho calls for you, Miseol already on his arms, hands reaching out trying to snatch the sunglasses he has pushing his hair back.
They were doing a small get together at Chanâs and Jeonginâs place. Just the members and significant others - when applied. Chan had recently found himself single but Jisung was finally bringing his girlfriend for everyone to properly meet - having the dorm for himself really did wonders for his love life. Their place had a nice balcony and Minho suggesting getting a grill out to enjoy the sunshine. You had spent the better part of the last hour convincing him Miseol had enough sunscreen on to handle being outside for a little bit.
He had gotten better at driving with her in the backseat though, behaving like a sane person again and not driving you insane with his slow pace. You took turns meddling with the radio, discussing where to start food prepping when you got there, sharing gossip you got recently from your own little pockets of friends. It was comfortable, like life had always meant to be like that.
Hyunjin was on the underground parking lot with Changbin when you pulled over. They were bringing coolers with some stuff Chan had forgotten to order. When Hyunjin spotted your car, however, he dropped the heavy box he was helping Changbin unload immediately, to the older memberâs displeased murmurs.
âHi pretty girl!â he had his arms open wide, ready for Miseol as he approached. You free her from her car seat but she hides her little face on your neck when she sees the man coming towards her.
Miseol was generally a happy giggly baby, but she was very fussy about who could hold her - to Minhoâs delight.
There was no point discussing for so long who the favorite uncle would be, that decision landed completely on her tiny hands, and she had a very strong opinion about it.
âAigoo, whoâs here?â Jeongin steps out from the elevator nearer to the cars.
The change to Miseol is immediate. She lifts her head away from you, searching for his voice. When she finds him, her arms extend to reach him, smile already gracing her features as you allow the younger member to take her from you. He babbles to her and she giggles in response, Hyunjinâs shoulders drop down in defeat.
âYouâd think heâd be used to that by nowâ, Minho joins you, carrying Miseolâs bag with him.
âI still think itâs a bit unfair but even I got over itâ, Changbin adds, after finally getting the help he needed unloading the cooler.
Jeongin doesnât even look back as he starts for the elevator, your daughter completely unfazed by your distance too. You try not to feel hurt at that and do a better job at it then Minho.
âAre you sure he didnât talk to the bump while you were not looking?â your boyfriend asks you, but starts to follow the other members nonetheless.
âAbsolutelyâ, you nod emphatically, âmaybe thatâs exactly why she likes him best, less of a fussâ.
It was funny, from the moment the members were first able to visit and meet your daughter, her attention seemed to gravitate to the maknae. When she started to be able to hold her focus, when she started to interact with the world around her, he was the one that would get her grabby hands. It was ironic, considering how much of a distance he kept from your pregnant belly, but your baby knew who she wanted to reach for and the favoritism still remained. Chan and Felix were the other members she was comfortable with, most of the time. The rest were a roll of dice.
âIt doesnât count if she canât speak yet, for all we know this is her great scheme into inheriting INâs expensive clothesâ, Changbin is voicing as you all step out of the elevator and into the apartment, already bustling with life with everyone else that was invited.
The attention turns to your arriving party at once, with everyone else slowly approaching to say their hellos and try to catch Miseolâs eye. Jihye stepped out victorious, with your daughter accepting her offer of outstretched hands, hopping from Jeonginâs embrace to hers.
It was organized chaos, some were busy in the kitchen while other remained at the balcony. Chan was already looking blushed with a beer in hand, Changbin quick to join him. Hyunjin did his best helping out Minho with the food, while you took turns between everyone, trying to coordinate who should be doing what. Miseol sometimes made her way back to your embrace, but you looked around and realized that everyone present held your trust with your little girl. A relief and something you were very much grateful for. So you allowed yourself to relax.
Food was served and drinks of all kinds went around. Sunscreen was reapplied and sunglasses were stolen. Laughter filled the air, mixed with non stop music ranging between the tastes of everyone present. Photos were taken and shared, some with glimpses of Miseolâs back as the boys held onto her, the reception online positive with the new set of âboyfriend picturesâ, as Stay called them. The afternoon turned into evening, the day lasting longer but not forever.
Miseol had long ago fallen asleep, tucked on a corner of the sofa where you could keep an eye on her while still hanging out with your friends. No one really wanted to leave. Why should your time together end when you were having such fun?
You stepped in for a second, only to find Minho already with your daughter. You approached them gently, he was adjusting a few pillows around her and you tapped his butt to let your presence be known. He finishes his action before turning to you, arms wrapping around your waist, a peck on your lips that tasted like orange juice.
âWe should probably head out soonâ, he says.
You hide your face on his chest but nods your agreement. You donât really want to go but it was growing late.
âIf we leave the rest of them will start heading out too, we should help cleanâ, you murmur, not wanting to leave the two guys with all the work.
âI already cooked most of the food, they can handle itâ, he tickles you lightly and you wiggle to avoid it, containing your laugh as to not wake your baby.
âShe will cry if we try to take her nowâ, you reason again.
âIâll send Jeongin in thenâ, is his alternative.
âWe should probably wait to make sure no one needs a drive though, I think-â you stop when you see his expression, amused with a glint of humor.
âJust say you donât want to leave yetâ, he tickles you again, you yelp and your baby stirs. You lightly hit his chest in reprimend.
âI donât want to leave yetâ, you roll your eyes.
He chuckles, kisses you again, makes his way out first while shaking his head. He knows you too well.
Miseol stirs a bit more but doesnât wake up. You readjust the same pillows Minho had just arranged, just to do something with your hands, to allow yourself to take her in, to appreciate that sheâs here and happy and safe. To appreciate the man you had loved all your life. To appreciate your friends, your family.
When you rejoin the group you take a second by the door, just watching everyone.
You donât remember the last time you felt lonely.
> a/n | So this is it, the end. How is everyone feeling? I started to write this fic around November of last year so itâs been quite a journey, Iâm usually a fast writer so I had my ups and downs when the story started to drag me to a much fluffier path than I had anticipated, it was quite a challenge - but one Iâm very grateful for. Most of all, Iâm so so so thankful for your support over here and on AO3, Iâm not the best at staying online but I see and appreciate every single comment and like you guys drop me, it means the world and encourages me to keep using writing as a creative outlet <3 Not to repeat myself from last week, but I am working on two other stories already - and hope to get them to you as soon as possible. One of those may or may not be a spin off inside the universe of ttots, and I may or may not have plans to keep expanding this little timeline, you will have to wait and see. I donât know which will be posted first, theyâre both already way longer than I wanted them to be but I will give you little WIP sneak peaks soon so you can help me decide on what do you guys want to read first hehe I think this is it for now, I promise not to be a stranger and to come back soon, but Iâll probably take until the end of the month to work on those side projects before I commit to posting again. Oh!! and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post those WIPs hehe Thats it for now, thank you for reading, Iâll see you sooooooooon :)))
> taglist is closed.
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
19. She will always be tiny for us
The first time you had to be alone with Miseol - for longer than thirty minutes at a time - comes sooner than you expected.
Not that you didnât know it was coming, you have had access to Minhoâs schedule for months now, but it still catches you off guard when youâre in bed the night before he has to actually go to work again.
âAre you sure you donât want to call my mom?â itâs not the first time that he asks.
âI have to be able to look after her by myself eventuallyâ, is the reply heâs been getting from you.
You have your head resting on his chest and heâs running a hand down your back. Miseol is asleep on the next room and the soft electronic hum of the baby monitor is the only sound besides your own voices.
Minho drops a kiss on the top of your head, âIâll call every hourâ
âI know that you willâ
âAnd Iâll come home straight away once weâre doneâ
âNever questioned thatâ
âAnd if you need anything I can leave earlyâ
âMinho, weâll be alrightâ, and at that point you donât know if youâre comforting him or yourself.
Itâs been nice having him by your side for the past two weeks. His parents have come and gone but other than that no one has stopped by to visit yet. Not that they didnât want to, but your doctor had recommended minimum outside contact for the first month, since Miseol was premature and still recovering from her traumatic birth. You all were, to be honest.
Your friends had called. Your team at work had called. Minhoâs managers had called. Everyone had sent gifts and well wishes but, for the most part, it was just the three of you in your little bubble.
The first statement the company released had been well received, with the fans worrying online but a majority wishing Minho to take his time to be with his family. He still had a few schedules ahead before their official vacation time, so he would be going to the company for rehearsals and some recordings over the next couple of days, and then had the comeback showcases and a few full days of music shows.
You were more nervous about the time after the music shows, though, because thatâs when the Minho-is-a-father statement would be coming out. The bright side to that is the upcoming couple of months out of the spotlight for the both of you, with the entire team taking time off as well together for once.
The next morning Minho is out before you are awake. You have no ideia how he had gotten up without the sound of an alarm waking you up, but he was magical like that sometimes. His side of the bed is still slightly warm when you roll over though, so you mustâve just missed him. Miseol is still sound asleep when you check the baby monitor, and before getting up you grab your phone to check the time. Itâs almost 9AM, probably the latest youâve been able to sleep in a while. Thereâs a few texts waiting for you, shining under Minhoâs new contact name, changed by himself a few days before.
[8:23AM] lee minho (love of my life): didnât want to wake you up
[8:23AM] lee minho (love of my life): Bun has been fed and changed before I left
[8:23AM] lee minho (love of my life): let me know when youâre up
[8:24AM] lee minho (love of my life): love you
There was no way he had reached the company yet but you text him anyway.
[8:46AM] y/n: you shouldâve said goodbye :(
His reply comes instantly.
[8:46AM] lee minho (love of my life): sorry baby
[8:46AM] lee minho (love of my life): next time Bun has a dirty diaper right before I have to leave Iâll wake you up!!
[8:47AM] y/n: nevermind
[8:47AM] y/n: i love youuuuu
By some sort of miracle, your daughter sleeps through most of the morning and, by the time she finally demands your attention, you had managed to get breakfast and have a shower. Youâre just sitting with her on the sofa, your legs pulled up so she can rest in your thighs while facing you. This is your current favorite activity. You could spend hours just staring at her, talking about everything as she babbled back to you. It wouldnât last long, every time she would start drifting off to sleep, specially after being fed, but you still managed to get a quick little video to send to Minho.
Only you accidentally sent it to the big group chat with all your friends.
[1:12PM] hyunjinnie: cute!!!!!!
[1:12PM] seo changbin: itâs crazy how much she looks like Lino hyung
[1:12PM] kim seungmin: donât say that to the poor kid
[1:13PM] bora-bora: I think she looks like me :)
[1:13PM] lee minho (love of my life): stop trying to steal my child
yongbok is calling you on facetime
Miseol is still wide awake on your lap so you see no reason to decline the call. The sounds come before the video loads, and you barely have time to lower the volume before a few faces make themselves known.
âNoona, how are you?â Felix is smiling front and center, with both Jisung and Hyunjin hanging from his sides.
âTurn the camera around. I want to see Bunâ, Jisung pipes in, moving Felixâs hand so he can take center place, completely cutting Hyunjin from focus.
âYa! Is that how you greet me?â you fake annoyance but thatâs just how Jisung had been since Miseol was born, he couldnât care less about you or Minho.
âWhy am I still seeing your face, show me my babyâ he whines and you have time to roll your eyes before double tapping the screen to reveal your sweet babygirl.
Hyunjin takes hold of the phone and seems to walk away just as the image loads for them, Felix and Jisungâs complaints following through the speakers, with the screen now showing just a close up of the dancerâs eyes and forehead, âAigoo is that the onesie I gifted her?â
You consider lying but ends up telling the truth, knowing full well it will annoy him, âactually, Bora gave her the same one in a smaller size, yours is still too bigâ
He hangs up on you. Your laugh is loud enough that it startles Miseol a little bit, her eyes growing big on an expression that so closely resembles Minho your heart melts immediately. You coo and bounce your legs so it stops her from crying.
lee minho (love of my life) is calling you on facetime
âDid Hyunjin hang up on Miseol?â his voice is venomous even if you know heâs being playful.
âI think that one was on meâ
âToo bad, Iâm making him run the chorus by himself until he can do it with his eyes closed and mouth filled with tissuesâ, he smiles angelically at you, his voice shifting drastically to a sing-song tone, his focus then moving to somewhere over the camera before he flips it so you can see.
Chan is holding Hyunjin by the waste while Changbin holds onto the front of the younger member shirt, on a play-fight you can only assume was instigated by your wonderfully protective baby-daddy.
âRemember you still need him for the comebackâ
âDo we though?â Jeonginâs voice comes through first, before the camera is flipped back to reveal him next to Minho, âhi noona, can I see Miseol-ah?â
âSee Innie, thatâs why youâre my favoriteâ, you say as you flip the camera to reveal your baby again, this time already fighting to stay awake, you can tell her eyelids are growing heavy.
âHi darlingâ, Minho coos, bringing his face closer to the younger member as well, and you can hear the commotion in the background as more members shift closer. One by one they give space to the next, so everyone can see and say hi to your daughter.
âShe looks biggerâ, Chan says, in awe.
âDonât say thatâ, you pout even if they canât see you. You do feel like sheâs growing too fast already, time slipping you by.
âShe will always be tiny for usâ, Minho corrects his only hyung, to which Chan replies by just squeezing your boyfriendâs shoulder.
âI canât wait to have oneâ, itâs Changbinâs time to pop up.
âAnd just how would you do that?â Jisung says from somewhere you canât see, his voice teasing at the idea of Changbin being the one member perpetually single amongst the group.
âLook at that, he gets himself a girlfriend and suddenly heâs braveâ, Minho comes to Changbinâs defense and you laugh alongside them, Jisungâs unintelligible whines sounding further away.
âIs he still saying theyâre not together?â you ask, happy to have some gossip that doesnât revolve around yourself.
Jisung had been secretly seeing someone for a while, the only proof being evidence left behind at the dorms. Minho was quick to tease and even quicker to spread the word. Specially during those first few days after Miseolâs birth, when everyone could use a little teasing to lighten the mood, the entire group had attached to the idea of Jisung finally commiting to someone, even if the boy had not admitted so himself yet.
Changbin, still perched on Minhoâs shoulder to see the phone, is about to say something when a manager calls out that they should resume practice if they want to leave on time. A couple of hands wave at the camera but you canât really make out whoâs, and Changbin makes a kissy face to your baby before also slipping away, leaving just you and Minho again.
âAppa will be home soon Bunny, be good to mommy, okay?â Miseol is almost fully asleep and Minho lowers his voice to say it. But to no avail, thereâs an echo of his words already going around the room as the rest of the boys tease his dad voice - something you have just recently realized he developed.
He rolls his eyes and step outside as you flip the camera back to you.
âAre you doing okay?â he just wants to make sure, one more time.
âI took a shower and drank two full cups of coffee before she even woke upâ, you gloat, âIâm doing wonderful.â
âOh so you get the extra sleep and the caffeine and I get the dirty diapers?â, one of his eyebrows flicks up in mock annoyance.
âYou had your time being her favorite, now itâs my turnâ, you double down on the teasing.
âIâll remember that when she cries in the middle of the nightâ, but you know those are just empty words, so you smile at him, no malice.
âI love you, you know?â and he must be able to tell you are no longer joking as his face melts into that look heâs been giving you more and more lately.
âI love you tooâ, he whispers, probably anticipating what his rehearsal would look like if they boys heard him, âIâll be home soon, call me when she wakes up again?â
âI willâ and you hang up, happy to know that, for the next few hours, Minho will be back to doing what heâs best at.
â
The boys were about to go on stage. Thatâs not what was scary to Minho. Heâs done that hundreds of times - and loved every single one of those. But that time he knew that, after the showcase, his entire career would be at stake.
Heâs not that naive. He knew what the statement could mean for him and his team. To you, to his daughter.
But he goes through with it anyway. Heâd have roughly a week between the recording of the showcase and the video coming out. Tonight the company would announce their vacation, alongside with 3rachaâs unit album that was already deep into production - to soften the blow.
And then, in a week, the same day the comeback videos start coming out, theyâd also drop the announcement of Miseolâs existence.
The guys had been so supportive about it, it almost overwhelmed Minho. The company still had their concerns but couldnât really push against the united front of their artists, so it was all going as smoothly as possible.
It didnât make it any less scary.
When they finally go on stage they have a bit of time to joke around with the Stays that had been waiting since before dawn, while the crew does camera and light adjustments. Minho does his best to act normal. He teases the fans, threatens his team mates, give away little choreography spoilers - even if it doesnât mean much, theyâre about to see the whole thing for the first time anyway.
And then they get into position. They run through the recording once, twice, three times. They take a break, they eat, they go again. Itâs all routine, all part of what he has been so used to these past few years of his life.
But then itâs time to leave the stage, and Minho has no idea what his life will look like the next time he steps on it.
And it is scary but also, maybe, just a tiny bit exciting.
Miseol will be almost six months old by the time he performs in front of an audience again. He might even be able to bring her to some recordings, show her all the cool things her appa do while heâs away from her. He could maybe bring her to work with him some times when you have to go back to the office. The rest of the boys would certainly love it.
And it is with those thoughts in mind that Minho signals Chan over.
He puts his mic away, gets closer to his friends ear so that only he can hear what he asks of.
âCan I spoil the statement?â
âWhat?â
âNot everything, just tell them thereâs a statement coming, that they should not worry about itâ
âI donât think thatâs a good ideaâ, his leader keeps his face guarded, expression normal, but Minho has lived with the guy for long enough to see the worry on his eyes.
âTrust me on this?â, and Minho is not insistent like that. Chan has known the man just as well.
So the leader relents, a short nod in approval, âI donât know if theyâll keep it in the broadcastâ.
âI knowâ, and Minho also know how to make them keep it.
Changbin is watching, sensing something is off. Minho smiles at him, reassurance, he needs his family to trust him.
A couple of the boys are nearer the boarder of the small stage, interacting with the fans. Minho sees that the cameras are on, filming behind the scenes content for their socials, for sure. He takes his chance, brings the mic to his lips.
âStay, hi!â he calls for their attention brightly.
The crowd cheers, the boys look at him confused.
âI wanted to say thank youâ, and Minho is sincere, he keeps his eyes bright, his expression light, he needs everyone to know this is a good thing, he doesnât want them to worry. âI appreciate you waiting for me, Iâm sorry I missed some of the fun but Iâm thankful to the members for covering for meâ
He looks pointedly behind him, makes eye contact with every single one of the boys. Some are confused, some are smiling back. None make any movement to stop him.
âI donât want you to worry about me so I want to say something but you have to promise not to tell anyone yetâ, the crowd cheer their agreement, âbut later, if they cut this off, than you can talk about it, okay?â
Another cheer, a little louder. He sees the movement on the side stage, managers and producers alike all confused but what was going on.
âI canât say much yet but a few statements will be coming out soonâ, a worried sound goes through the crowds, âitâs nothing bad, I promise, but I just wanted you all to know from me first that I am sorry to have worried you, Iâm sorry if I ever disappointed you, and I hope you will keep loving Stray Kids just the sameâ.
Someone in the crowd screams, âare you leaving the group?â
Hyunjin laughs behind him, it takes Minho off guard but he looks back to see the younger boy bringing his own mic to his face, âdo you really thing we can get rid of him?â
âYa, heâs stuck with us foreverâ, Changbin adds, voice loud and bright.
âStay doesnât need to worry, you just need to trust usâ, itâs Seungminâs turn.
And Minho is so grateful.
He bows deeply before leaving the stage. Gets an earful of his managers but the members give him little pats in the back as they walk backstage. And theyâre the most important part of this whole thing anyway.
âHow are you feeling?â, Jisung is beside him on the waiting room. They still have to shoot a couple dance challenges and behind content before theyâre able to go home.
âTiredâ, Minho says, honestly, allowing his body to slide down the chair a little bit, âready to go homeâ
âHow are Y/N and Miseol?â
That makes Minho smile, âtheyâre goodâ
âOh my god you really do get the lookâ, Minho turns to look and Jisung has that little sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
âWhat do you mean?â
âThe appa look, they were rightâ
âWhoâs âtheyâ?â he rightens his body to do the air quotes, not following what Jisung is saying.
âLiterally everyone, dudeâ he moves his arms around for emphasis.
âWhat is everyone doing?â Jeongin pipes in, having just walked into the waiting area.
âSaying Minho has an appa lookâ Jisung clarifies.
âOh, he doesâ the younger agrees.
âNo, I donât?â Minho is starting to question his own certainties.
Jisung and Jeongin share a look. Minho hates that he is not in on said look.
âThan can you talk about Miseol for like a minute for me?â Jeongin requests, pulling out his phone while at it.
âWhy would I do that?â Minho crosses his arms.
Minho takes a deep breath and stares pointedly at his maknae, but complies.
He doesnât really know what to say at first but, as he starts, he finds out the words come easy to him. He talks about how youâve been talking to the baby so much that he sometimes hears your voice even when you are not there. The two of you were still calling Miseol by her nickname of Bun, but that had also evolved into Bunny, Bunbaby and, more recently, BobaBun - coined by you because her eyes look more and more like boba balls everyday. You joke about how Miseol will end up getting Minhoâs expressive eyes just based on how she stares at you when you canât figure out what sheâs crying about. Minho mentions how much easier it is for him to get Miseol to fall asleep, while you always end up with her in your arms for hours. But then, how bath time ended up being mostly your responsibility - Minho is too anxious about letting her slip into the bathtub, shoulders way too tense the entire time. Itâs just that sheâs so small? And water can be so scary? He should probably sign her up for swimming lessons as soon as possible, right?
âAnd there it isâ, Jeongin pulls Minho out of his monologue.
Minho shuts his mouth as stares at the younger members before him. Jeongin shows his phone screen to Jisung first before turning it to Minho.
Oh, okay.
Itâs just final bit of the video. Minho doesnât need the sound to see what they mean. He has never seen that expression on his face before.
Huh.
The members will keep teasing him about his appa look. He will stop denying it but will never concede that he has such a thing either.
He doesnât mind it, really, itâs more about sticking to the principle of the thing. Minho is an appa, after all, and he wouldnât have it any other way.
â
Hello, this is JYP Entertainment.
We would like to express our sincere gratitude to all the fans who continue to show their love and support for Stray Kids. We understand that the fans have shown concerns regarding Lee Knowâs recent absence from official content and performances.
We would like to inform you that Stray Kids member Lee Know will be taking a short break from group activities to focus on his personal life.
Lee Know has met someone precious to him and together they have recently welcomed a baby girl into their lives.
As his girlfriend is a non-celebrity, we ask for the fans and media reporters to respect their privacy.
We sincerely apologize for any concern this news may cause to fans who have been looking forward to Stray Kids new album activities.
Lee Know will continue to work hard as an artist and will be back shortly with the full support of Stray Kids and JYP Entertainment.
As this decision was made with the artistâs well being as our top priority, we kindly ask for your understanding and continued support.
We ask you to send Lee Know and his family lots of blessings and messages of celebration.
Thank you.
â
On the day that the showcase would air, you were taking a nap with Miseol while Minho was on the sofa, reading over the statement that had just came out.
He had a handwritten letter ready to go as well. The company insisted on it. He thought the whole thing a bit archaic but did it nonetheless. You thought it was sentimental and said he should post it on his own social media, instead of the groupâs official accounts. Something more personal. Minho kept the letter pretty close to what he had said during the recording of the showcase - and knew that video would be coming out too, after being reviewed by a team of managers many, many times.
When deciding on how to post the letter, you were the one to suggest him doing it alongside a few photos - images that didnât show your daughterâs face, but still enough that everyone knew she was an actual, real human. Someone innocent on this whole thing that meant a lot to a lot of people.
He scrolls through the hundreds of photos from the past few months, trying and failing to pick the perfect ones.
It took him almost the entirety of your nap, but he hit post just as he heard you coming down to the living room.
âWhat time is it?â you ask, hair messy, hands still brushing sleep out of your eyes.
âAlmost dinner timeâ, he replies, making space on the sofa for you to join him. You do.
âMy sleeping schedule is so fucked, Iâll never be able to get it fixedâ, you whine into his chest, closing your eyes again, taking in his comfort.
âYes you willâ, he starts, hands soothing down your side, âit might just take until Bun is in schoolâ
You groan. Because you know itâs true. Because you canât think about her going to school. Because you just woke up and want to go back to sleep already. Thereâs a lot to groan about.
âDid the statement come out?â you ask, thinking if thereâs one more thing to add to your groan-list.
âYupâ, Minho fishes his phone, unlocking it to you, âI also posted thisâ
It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the light. You see that there are notifications popping down non stop. From the members, from managers. So you set the phone to do not disturb so you can look at the post before you think about the repercussions of it.
The first picture is Minhoâs classic black square.
The second is Miseolâs little feet, wearing the bunny socks you had used to gift Minho the ultrasound. It was a favorite of his and, whenever he was on duty to dress her up, nine times out of ten you would find your daughter wearing them. You should probably look into getting a larger one soon, she was growing fast.
The third was a close up of Minhoâs face, his eye bags taking center stage. Neither of you had been getting much sleep. You let out a little snort at that and looks up at him, heâs so proud of himself and his whole expression shows it.
âYou think youâre funnier than you actually areâ
âWell, you laughedâ and you roll your eyes because you hate when heâs right.
The fourth photo is, surprisingly, the bump. It was taken during one of your visits to Minhoâs parentâs place with him. You had just eaten lunch and were all hanging out at the living room. Soonie had taken a liking to your belly from the very first time you visited them after finding out you were pregnant. On that day, already far into the pregnancy, while you rested on the sofa, the cat had decided he should take a nap on top of your bump. He was too big to fit properly, so his front legs were just hanging from the side. He fell asleep with his eyes half open, fully relaxed. Minho was only able to snap a couple of photos before your giggles disturbed Soonieâs slumber. That being one of those.
The next photo slide was Miseolâs little fist holding onto her big Leebit through the ears.
And then, finally, her hand again, wrapped around Minhoâs finger.
The photos of the hand written letter followed, and you scrolled down to see the caption of the post.
t.leeknowsaurus Hi hi, Stay~
I have not been sleeping much but I am really happy
Donât worry too much!
Iâll be with Stay again soon, but right now I need to be with this little dancer, sheâs growing too fast already
I love you
It is very him. You look up and meet your lips to his.
âI love youâ, you say. You canât stop saying it now.
âYou know that 'I love you' was for Stay, right?â He teases.
âAnd since when am I not a Stay?â
He smiles and kisses you again, âyouâre right, you are my very first fanâ
âDonât disrespect your mother like that, Iâm okay being second placeâ
âDo you think Miseol will like music?â
âWith you as a dad? How could she not?â
âThen we will be her first fans.â He sounds dreamlike. You smile at the thought.
You can almost see it. Years from now, whatever it is Miseol decides to do, having Minho by your side to cheer her on.
You wouldnât have it any other way.
> a/n | one final little chapter to go, everyoneâŠâŠ. I'm feeling so bittersweet about the end of this story. On one hand I'm so proud of myself for seeing it through and so happy that many of you seem to have liked it but the other side to that is the truth that this little piece of writing meant a lot to me and was very much an escape from the chaos of real life. So yeah, bittersweet. I'll come back with an epilogue and a longer note next week, I ammmmm working on a couple other things for you that I'm very excited about, but I also need to take some time to let those stories simmer like I did with this one before posting it. Anyway, this is already too long. Thank you for reading, see you very soon :)
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â mentions of a bad childhood, MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
18. intermission. winter
Itâs late.
You should not have been awake at 4 AM and yet.
Itâs not even as if you were sleep deprived. Truth be told, ever since going to bed the night before, this was the first time you were the one to get up. Minho was out the door the three previous times your daughter did as much as whine. You heard her cry while already up - your bladder was still not back to normal and kept waking you up at unreasonable hours. So you were quick to assure Minho you got her this time.
You had fed her and changed her. She had stopped crying, that is, until you tried putting her down. So you were doing laps around your small living room, going from the kitchen to her bedroom, holding her close and humming quietly, in hopes sheâd be sleepy enough to be transferred to the crib with less of a fuss.
The sad thing was, you were already fully awake. You knew that, even if you managed to free your arms eventually, there was not way you were going back to bed. So you were in no rush. You took your time holding your baby. Itâs not even been a week with her home and you felt that she had already changed so much. Her eyes were attentive to everything and she looked like she was filling her newborn clothes better.
It would still be night for quite a while, it seemed like the real start of winter. The rain was constant but looked like it would stop at any minute now, maybe turn into snow. The weather made you think of times when you were up at this hour as a young girl. Back when you were too big to need looking after all the time, but too small to know any better.
The alarm went off too late.
The bus would be coming in less then 15 minutes and you had not packed you bag properly the night before.
You were up late washing the dishes from dinner - you left the stove on for too long and half of the food was burnt and stuck at the bottom of the pan. Mom would be home the next morning and you didnât want to leave the mess for her to handle. You still had homework to get done and needed to find a change of clothes to take with you for later in the day.
The dance lessons were expensive. It took you two years to convince your dad to allow you to sign up. You saved every last bit of your allowance to help out, and the ajumma at the nearby convenience store would always sneak you a couple of bills when you helped her with the delivery boxes.
Deep down you thought your mom was happy youâd start spending your afternoons after school out of the house. She had been taking on night shifts and would use the afternoons to catch up on sleep, so with you out all day that was one less thing to worry her. Dad had been traveling for work a lot - part of the reason why you were allowed the dance lessons was probably his guilty conscious at being away all the time.
But all that would only work if you could manage it yourself.
And you would manage, eventually. Over the years you would become a pro at juggling all sorts of responsibilities. You would dance until the very last available opportunity, and when those stopped, you would fill your time with other interests, other abilities, other lessons. You would keep dancing at home but, most importantly, your time at the dance academy would teach you about having a team behind you, people you could count on.
But thatâs later.
So with less then five minutes to figure it out, you just stashed the first clean clothes you came across in your bag and grabbed an overly ripe apple on your way out. You could probably steal a bit of one of your friendâs lunch later in the day.
Your winter jacket was getting too small. The sleeves no longer covered your wrists and the padding didnât feel that comforting anymore. Just as you stepped into the bus, barely making it, did you notice the soles of your shoes had also seen better days. You knew those sneakers were reaching the end of its life but youâd be out all day and boots were not the best dancing shoes. Your socks were wet, the bottom of your pants too.
But you made it to school, managed to dry yourself off, attended all your classes as expected. When lunch came by, there was a new face at your table. You had met Bora the week before, when you first visited the dance academy. She was brought in by the dance instructor, who knew she attended the same school as you.
It felt almost like a prank, at first. A little jab of the universe at you. Your mom had signed all the papers, sent in her authorization and the first payment for the lessons. But you went in alone, shaken to your core at the prospect of being denied entry. It was unusual timing, the middle of winter. But there was an opening, your math teacher was the one to let you know about it.
She knew you danced, casually. When you stayed late at school following dance videos on the cafeteriaâs little TV while you waited for someone to come pick you up. She lost track of how many times over the past few years she escorted you home while you were still too small to get on the bus by yourself. Her sister was teaching at the studio, she might have mentioned something to you mom too, one of those rare times she managed to catch her.
And then you got there, and they bring in this girl, bright eyed and quick to laugh, to help show you around the place. You liked her immediately. Bora said sheâd find you at school the next day, and she did.
Youâve been inseparable ever since. She caught you up on all the drama at the dance academy, who were the good instructors, the cooler classes to take. What to wear to fit in, who to avoid if you didnât want an accidental sprained ankle. It was brutal out there, it seemed, and to have someone so nice given to you so easily? It felt odd, nothing ever went like that for you.
So you didnât question when the rain turned into a downpour on your way out of school. That you were used to. Bora had left first, she had a dad that picked her up so she could change at home before classes. You didnât know it yet, but over the next few years, many would be the times when youâd join her. Play around with her siblings on the back seat, reply to questions about school coming from her parents, who actually cared and wanted to know.
But thatâs later.
At first youâd kill time at school. Take another bus. Walk a few blocks. Pace around until your wrist watch told you it was okay for you to go in.
One day a tutor would see you waiting outside, right as the days started to grow colder, and invite you in early for tea. Sheâd help you with homework and braid your hair for lessons. Many times over the years youâd think about her, whenever you could smell green tea brewing. Because she never asked you why you were waiting outside, she just took a look at your scrawny figure, your unfitted clothes, and the way you kept repeating the same movements to a choreography she had crafted, even without any music to be heard.
But thatâs later.
When it was finally time for you to go in, that first day, you were soaked. The rain was a burden - but not unexpected. It didnât exactly catch you off guard. You had time to hide your backpack under your coat, to try to keep your school work safe. But your hair was wet. Your legs were wet. Your shoes, specially, were absolutely drowned.
But you changed into what you brought. You ignored the splash sounds following you around as you walked. And you took the damn class.
You were surprised at how easily you followed along. The many hours spent in front of the TV paying off. Bora helped you with the steps you had trouble with and introduced you to her friends. You were happy. But then it was time to go home, and it was already dark out again, and the rain had came back. Bora left and you changed back into your - still wet - coat.
While you waited for the sky to stop crying, maybe just a little bit, enough for you to run to the bus stop, a little boy popped up beside you.
Bora had pointed at him earlier in class. 'Thatâs Minho, heâs a little weird'. You had seen him dance, a little jealous of how easy it came to him. It was a new choreography for everyone, so why did it look like heâd been practicing it for months? He was holding in a good puffer jacket. Something old, maybe second hand, but cared for and, most importantly, warm.
âCan you hold that for me?â, he says. Not a hello, not a nice to meet you. Just a request. You extend your arm mindlessly, taking the coat from his hands.
He kneels down, looks for something inside his bag and takes out a little pen drive. The little red device is attached to a cat keychain. He swiftly slides it off the wire holding it together, stands up and extends it to you.
âI had the teacher make me a copy of the songsâ, you gawk at him, not fully understanding whatâs going on, âyou can have it until tomorrow.â
You start to feel ashamed, am I that bad of a dancer heâs doing all that to tell me I need to practice? But you also feel a little grateful, you had been wondering how to get your hands on the songs so you could keep training at home.
Before you can say anything, he keeps going.
âYou can also borrow my coat, it will probably snow soon, my mom is picking me upâ, and as if spoken into existence, a car pulls up in front of the dance academy.
Minho goes down the few stairs in a hurry, and hops into the car that had the car already pushed open by the woman sitting inside. He waves at you quickly before shutting the door behind him, avoiding the heavy rain still pouring down.
Once the car leaves you find yourself stuck in the same position, struck by the kindness of a kid you had never seen before. You slide in his coat, grateful for the extra warm it brings. Itâs the perfect size for you and you consider stealing it forever, wonder if he will actually ask it back tomorrow.
He doesnât. And he never will again, for any of the clothes you end up keeping of his.
But thatâs later.
Back then, the rain gave you a break and, just as you were reaching the bus stop, little white specks started to fall from the sky.
It was the first snow of the year.
The bus took way too long to arrive and by the time you made it home it was way later than you expected it to be. Not that anyone noticed it, your mom had already left for work, your dad would not be back for another week. But you didnât mind that much for once. You took a minute at your front porch. The snow had become a steady gentle companion. It had stopped raining, the street was starting to become slippery with ice. It was beautiful.
Because you had made new friends. You were dancing, for real. A boy had landed you his coat. It was snowing.
Through the years, you would spend many first-days-of-snow with them. You never forgot how your friendship had started. Minho and you would exchange that one pen drive for years, sharing song ideas for dances. It would break, eventually, but by then you already both had access to computers and, not much later, phones. And then you would text non stop, from serious to silly. Everything that life threw at you after that day, you managed to tackle.
Itâs later.
You had slightly turned the chair at the nursery so it faced the window. The sky was starting to lighten and your baby was finally asleep in your arms.
âIs she down?â Minho is standing at the door, leaning on it, arms crossed over his chest as if he had been there for a while. He keeps his voice down, his usual bright tones disappearing and giving space for the low notes he only reaches on the early hours of the day.
âI think soâ, you take her in for a second and suddenly you know it.
You look back at him, just as heâs coming closer. He leans down and you transfer her to his arms, she fusses for a second but settles easily. You think heâll put her on the bassinet but instead he takes a step towards the window, looking outside while cradling her body close to his chest.
The step you take after standing up is the easier one you took your entire life. Almost like a magnet, youâre supposed to be right by them.
âMiseolâ you say, quietly.
It doesnât look like he heard you at first. His posture stays the same, he keeps looking out.
âItâs snowingâ, he says. He looks down at the baby asleep on his arms. He repeats the name, âMiseolâ
âWhat do you think?â, you wrap your arms sideways around his waist, rests your head on his shoulder to also look down at the baby.
He kisses the top of your head, âitâs perfectâ.
Somewhere, on a different room, an alarm sets off. Soon the day will be here. The quiet will be replaced by the sounds of the world outside waking up.
But thatâs later.
For a little while, itâs just you, Minho, Miseol and the first snow of the year falling outside. Time does not exist.
> a/n | ok so baby Bun finally has a name!!! I am not Korean so I had to trust good old baby-name sites to find one that made sense with the story, so Miseol meaning comes from the Sino-Korean çŸ (mi) meaning "beauty", and éȘ (seol) meaning "snow". As always, thanks for reading, see you sooooon
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, mentions of medical issues, like 90% fluff, MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
17. Can we never do that again?
If Minho had been quiet when he was last with you, now he could not stop talking.
Even if he tried, he just kept rambling on and on about his baby. Your baby. How she looks like you but also like him. How she looked like both of you but also like a completely different person. How tiny she is, and how mighty. How she held onto him the entire time he was there with her.
âSo you have to wake up to meet herâ, is a common phrase heâs been uttering.
You had not even decided on a name. Had you even discussed that? Mentioned it at all?
He had been so caught up in calling her Bun, he never even asked you if you had a name you called the baby in your mind. Did you have names that you liked? Were you keeping a list?
How could the two of you talk so much all the time and still have so much left unsaid?
âI canât imagine my life without youâ, Minho doesnât want to talk in between the lines anymore, âyou are more than a friend, you have always been more than a friendâ.
And wasnât that true? You had took residence in a much larger portion of his heart than any other person in his life. Safe for his daughter, maybe, but she lived with you so it just felt like he extended your mansion to fit a little bit more. You had been his first thought for as long as he could remember. Even when life made the two of you drift away for a bit, he could always trust youâd pick up when he called, he would always text you back as soon as he could.
The members used to tease him about it, how heâd drop everything for you. But he was in denial for so long. If only he had listened to them, maybe he couldâve figured it out sooner.
âEven calling you my girlfriend seems like too littleâ, he laughs at himself, at how true it sounds coming out of his mouth, âI donât even think wife gets close to what you mean to meâ.
His eyes widen. That was also true. Huh, guess thereâs that.
âNot that I donât want you to be all thatâ, he corrects himself, his little laughs turning more deranged, his nervousness getting the best of him, âI really want to call you all that. That is. If you want it. Itâs okay if not. I will have anything, as long as I have you by my side. I can do friends, if thatâs what you want.â
He cuts himself off. He thinks he could do friends. Friends who have a baby together. Who know the shapes of each otherâs bodies. Who maybe kiss a little, sometimes?
âYeah, I could do friends, but thatâs the thing, I donât think thatâs what you want eitherâ, he didnât want to sound too presumptuous, but now that he had started talking about it, his brain going a mile every second, he couldnât stop himself, âI think you like me just as much as I like youâ.
Minho didnât believe in soulmates. But if there ever was such a thing, he was pretty sure you were his. And wouldnât it be too cruel of the universe to put you in his life, gift him with this person that felt like they were made just for him, allow him to love them, and not let them love him back? When he thought back to life before you, those few years of being a child, it all felt like it was moving in slow motion. And then you. And everything started moving very fast.
âIt feels right to like youâ, his throat is closing up again, his eyes a little teary, âit feels right to love you.â
He looks at your hand in his, traces the lines on your palm, rubs his thumb on your wrist. You are here. You will be okay.
âI just love you.â
You squeeze his hand. At first he thinks is his wishful thinking making him feel things that are not happening, but then he looks up at you and your eyelids are fluttering open, only to be closed again.
A frown graces your features and he stands up, maybe gets too close. He doesnât care.
âBaby, can you hear me?â, he squeezes your hand back and you open your eyes and looks straight at him.
Minho could tell you were having trouble understanding where you were, he tries to keep his voice level, keep himself calm. He hits the button that calls for the nurse, never letting his eyes drift away from you.
âYouâre okay, everything will be okayâ, he keeps repeating it, both to you and to himself, he knows. He has no idea if it was registering but you kept looking at him too, so he hoped it was.
The door flew open behind him, a couple nurses and your doctor coming in. Theyâre gentle with him when they ask him to move, someone holds onto his bicep, slowly dragging him away.
He felt desperation starting to hit. Because you were awake and looking at him and he had so much to tell you. Someone is telling him theyâll be quick. They just need to check if everything is okay, run some quick tests. But his feet refuses to move, so he untangles himself from them, stepping closer to you again. Just one more thing, he pleads, and is allowed.
Minho takes your hands and places another kiss there, whispers, âI love youâ.
You look at him like you donât understand him, so he says again, looking at you, âI love youâ.
And once more, just as heâs about to be shut out of the room, for good measure, louder than the previous times, âI love youâ.
The corridor is empty. Quiet. The doctor is saying something inside the room but itâs muffled and he feels like gluing his ear to the door to try and hear it would not be the best look on him. So he waits.
Minho paces back and forth, five steps on one direction, turn, five steps on the opposite direction, turn. He keeps count at first, trying to occupy his brain. It mustâve worked as he has no idea where the nurse talking to him now came from.
âWould you like to visit your daughter again?â, she doesnât even have to finish the question before heâs excessively nodding, barely following her this time. He had memorized the way there already, how could he not? He had to know where his little girl was.
She still looks tiny when he sees her, but why does it feel like she has already changed? Itâs only been a couple of hours but he feels like he already missed so much.
The nurse accompanying him doesnât even have to explain what he should do this time, he goes through the entire routine unprompted, and pulls the chair for himself.
âMommy will be with you soonâ, he starts by saying, âshe just needs a little bit more time, but I know sheâs so excited to see youâ.
Heâs a little braver with his hands this time, he maps out her features, carefully runs his fingers through her little legs, counts her toes. Minhoâs not aware of what heâs even saying anymore.
Maybe exhaustion was catching up to him.
But he canât will his mouth to stop, he must keep talking. Otherwise he might just combust. Explode with unsaid things.
So he tells his daughter about her mother. And then about her grandparents. About their friends. Even about the cats. And the baby is quietly asleep but, when his hand reaches hers again, she holds onto him just like before. A reflex, his conscious mind tells him, but his heart fights it with all its might. Thatâs his daughter, holding onto him for comfort.
âYou can go back if youâd likeâ, the nurseâs voice is gentle, âsheâs asking about youâ.
And Minho is conflicted again, he looks from the baby to the nurse and back again. Couldnât he bring her with him? Before he could ask, though, your doctor steps in.
âMinho-ssiâ, she starts, and he stands up, careful not to disturb the place where his daughter has her fist wrapped around his finger, âtheyâre both out of danger nowâ.
And the relief hit him so hard his legs felt a little bit like jelly, but he held on.
âWeâll try and see if baby can breathe on her own and as soon as possible weâll bring her to youâ, and she looks at Bun with so much kindness that Minho realizes that some people are really meant to be certain things. He trusted her with his daughter.
He tells his baby he will see her soon. He promises. And that next time, mommy will be with her too.
And then heâs allowed back into your room.
You were sitting up in bed, drinking water from a cup with the help of a straw. Half of the equipment surrounding you had been pushed away, no longer in need, and you smile softly at him.
The nurse keeping guard beside you steps away and lets him switch places with her, you drink a few more sips before he helps you by taking the cup from your hand and placing it on the side table that has been moved closer.
âHiâ, your voice is hoarse.
âHiâ, he says back.
Minho hears the door close behind him, signaling that they have been left alone for now.
The two of you just stare at each other for a bit, he sees the emotions taking over your face one at a time. Joy, grief, worry. You open your mouth again but before any sound could come out, heâs putting your mind at ease.
âSheâs alrightâ, he says, and sees you visibly relax. You close your mouth, smiles at him again.
Your arm reaches for the cup once more and he helps by taking it to your lips, helping you with small sips, until you are almost done with the water.
Heâs so so so glad to see you awake. To recognize your movements, your expressions. He could not stop talking not that long ago, but now he didnât know where to start. So he foregoes of filters. Youâre his best friend, he had always known how to talk to you.
âCan we never do that again?â, is where he settles.
âHave a baby?â you ask quietly, a little amused glint in your eyes.
He laughs despite himself, âthe whole almost dying thingâ.
âNot planning on itâ
Quiet again. He grabs your hand, pulls the chair closer to the bed, takes a seat. Minho brings your hand to meet his lips and just stay there for a minute. Taking in the contact. This is real. You are alright.
âI just love you too, by the wayâ
He releases all the air on his lungs at once, âyou heard all that?â
âNot all of it but I think I got the gistâ
âOk, goodâ
You keep smiling at each other. Two fools, is what you are.
He knew you meant it like he did, thereâs no longer space for doubt. Life is too short, everything feels too big, Minho loves you and you love him back. Just like that.
A nurse knocks on the door this time, so it seems like you are finally allowed enough privacy that people are no longer just walking in. Minho reluctantly lets go of your hand to give the medical team some space. They need to change your bandages and the doctor wanted to speak to you about what you should expect.
Minho stays in the room with you this time. He doesnât flinch when he sees the cesarian scar, but he does look a little panicked when you hiss over the pain, with the doctor showing the both of you how to better care for it. Minho forces himself to pay attention to every single little detail, and you deter your reflex of rolling your eyes at him, knowing heâd follow every instruction to a T.
After everything has been taken care of, youâre offered a wheelchair to go see your little girl. You had been informed that she was now breathing on her own, but had to stay at the NICU for a little bit longer so they could monitor her.
The doctor was optimistic though, saying that if she kept going like she had, they could all be going home in no longer than a few days.
Minho is careful picking you up to help you onto the chair. You circle your arms over his shoulder and has to hide your disappointment at the need of letting go.
Would the doctor allow him to sleep in bed with you? It would be a tight fit but you had had your fair share of sleeping in couches together, so you thought youâd manage just fine.
--
Nothing couldâve prepared you to see Bun for the first time. For the first real time. You had seen her briefly as they took her out of you, but you couldnât study her features, take in the reality that she was actually here.
âI love youâ, is the first thing you tell her, and Minho allows you your moment with humor in his eyes. The fondest expression seeing his two girls together at last. You complete your thought, âI will always love youâ.
And Minho canât help but chuckle at that.
You force yourself to look away from her, to see what was so funny about what you said, but are disarmed as you notice that Minho had gone misty eyed.
âWhat?â you question, your free hand reaching out to him.
âThatâs what I said tooâ, he replies, voice barely above a whisper.
You keep your eyes on him for a beat longer, taking in this new expression you had never seen before. How lucky for you, to keep getting to know new parts of Minho after all this time. Would that be his look as a father?
Your baby whines, the tiniest sound, and both of you coo at her, reaching together to soothe her. Her hand curls around your fingers this time, and you have to fight your own tears. You would not let your vision go blurry, you had to take in every moment. You needed to remember this. This was the best day of your life.
âShe really does have your noseâ, you chuckle as you notice it, thinking back to every ultrasound image you had seen of her profile.
âAnd your mouthâ, Minho adds, while brushing her cheek carefully.
âWe made herâ
âYupâ, he lets out a little laugh, almost in disbelief.
The two of you stay by her for as long as you are allowed but, eventually, a nurse comes to collect you, saying youâd be able to be with her on your own room soon.
As Minho pushes your wheelchair away, you feel your heart start to crack.
Rationally you knew she would be okay. She was under the good care of the doctors. Youâd be together again in no time. But your chest felt tight, your mind wondering into dangerous places.
You managed well enough until you were inside your room again, but as soon as the nurse left you, a sob escaped you unannounced.
Minho was by you in no time, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs catching the tears that had started to fall.
You hiccup into him, holds onto his arms and feels the stretch on your lower belly where your stitches were placed. The physical pain meant very little.
âHey, hey, baby, talk to me, whatâs wrong?â he sounds frantic but his hold on you is kept tight.
You can barely talk through your hiccups, but you feel like you need to say sorry, so you try, âs-sorry I- I donât- I canât-â
âShould I call the doctor, are you hurting?â the worry in his voice makes your guilt deepen.
You force yourself to take deep breaths, focusing on the feeling on Minhoâs hands on your face. You owned him an apology, an explanation.
âI shouldâve gone home soonerâ, you manage to push out, and saw as a little wrinkle take place on his forehead.
âWhat do you mean, baby?â
âI shouldâve called the doctor, itâs my f- fault-â, and your breath catches again, more tears coming out.
âOh no, noâ, he takes a seat on your bed, bringing himself as close to you as possible, he scans your entire face, trying to decide what to do first, âItâs not your fault.â
âBut it isâ, you whine, âI shouldâve called you, Minho, I almost lost herâ
You hiccup and he brings his forehead to rest on yours. He closes his eyes and you follow, but the tears still escape through your eyelashes. He keeps wiping them away. You feel as Minho starts taking deep breaths himself, maybe trying to keep composed, maybe helping you regulate your own breathing. It works, either way, and you had no idea how long you stayed like that, forehead to forehead, breathing together.
âI would not be able to live with myself if I lost herâ, you admit, barely above a whisper.
âWe didnât lose herâ, is his reply, âand even if we had-â
He pauses then, as if considering his next words, as if being faced with the possibility is a bit too much.
âIf we had, it would still not be your faultâ, he completes, âbut we didnât, sheâs here, sheâs okayâ.
And itâs almost as if heâs calming himself as much as you, but it works.
âIâm so sorryâ, you start, but he stops you by separating your heads, making you open your eyes to look at him. He looks more serious than he had all day.
âIâm sorryâ, he starts, and you open your mouth to protest but the look on his eyes holds you tongue-tied, âIâm sorry I wasnât here, Iâm sorry I didnât check in before, Iâm sorry you had to go through this aloneâ
Your breath threatens to quicken again, how dare him apologize for that?
âNo, listen to meâ, he keeps going, âI am very sorry about all that, and I canât promise Iâll always be here but Iâll try my damn hardest. If anything, anything were to happen to either of you while I was away, that would be it for me too. But it didnât. And it wonât.â
It sounds like he is reassuring himself.
âI love you so much, Iâm so proud of all that you did for Bun, I can never thank you enough for bringing her into my lifeâ
You still felt guilty. You still needed time to process everything, the aching was too new, too raw, it needed time to scar - and you knew it would. But for now, you could handle that. You could accept Minhoâs love and mirror your own. You could step into the role of a mother, and try your damn hardest to be there for your little girl too.
He reaches for your water that has been refilled and helps you take a few sips.
âI love youâ, you say, once more, for good measure.
âI love youâ, because he hasnât said it enough before.
--
It is only the next day that you are allowed more visitors.
The doctor had turned a blind eye on you and Minho sharing your bed and, just like you expected it, it felt like nothing out of the ordinary to squeeze into the space with him. You fell asleep to the sound of his voice babbling about what had happened while he was in Japan, at your request. You grew tired fairly fast and only woke up a few times during the night with the nurses coming in to check on your stitches.
The baby was brought into your room during the late hours of the next morning, and allowed to stay there with you. The nurses helped you with breastfeeding and changing her for the first time, Minhoâs parents were allowed in too, at some point, and provided their own tips and tricks about looking after a little Lee.
âItâs just like riding a bicycleâ, Minhoâs mom joked, while disposing of a diaper for you, good humored and featherlight, her presence a soothing addition to your new orbit around Bun.
Bun, who still lacked a proper name. Minho and you had been brainstorming some ideas, finally, but nothing had stuck yet.
It was only when Minhoâs dad insisted he was starting to smell bad that he agreed to step away to shower and gather some things you might need. He was too tired to drive himself though, so Bora, who also needed a shower and some rest, offered to take him.
The first stop is the dorms. Minho finds his bags already there, searches his wardrobe for a few changes and takes a shower that probably shouldâve been longer. Heâs eager to go back though, so he paces back and forth while waiting for Bora to be back, his friend having gone to her own place to also clean herself and pick up some cheesy balloons for your room. You deserved all the cliches that came with birthing a new human, and sheâd be damned if she didnât get you and Bun your flowers.
The next stop was your own apartment. You had never finished packing your maternity bag, but Minho knew where you kept most of the things and, with some helpful instructions from the nurses, he felt confident about completing your bag for you. Your phone was also still there and, as much as you kept going on and on about taking everything in and living in the moment, you had been asking everyone for their own phones to snap pictures of the babyâs tiny fingers and round cheeks. As much as he didnât mind the quick growth of images on his camera roll, he knew youâd be happy to have them for yourself as well.
What neither Minho or Bora had accounted for, however, was stepping in into your apartment for the first time.
It took him a minute to understand why Bora seemed frozen when he knocked into her, about to curse her out for stopping.
But then he followed her gaze and landed on a small dried stain, only to keep following the stain into bigger patches of red. He felt like throwing up.
Bora turned around already hiccuping and it was instinctual to open his arms to receive her weigh. Minho and Bora were not the type of friends who showed affection towards each other often. He could count on a single hand the amount of times Bora had said something nice to him throughout the span of their friendship - she could probably say the same about him.
They had, however, a mutual understanding when it came to you. Both had always been softer, kinder towards you. Minho knew what Bora was feeling. Bora, who had mad light of the situation. Bora, who had been there for you countless times when he couldnât. Bora, who was the one to find you, bleeding and in pain on a place that shouldâve been safe. So Minho allowed her to cry first, for as long as she needed, soft pats on her back while he ignored the wet feeling growing on the front of his nice clean shirt.
He avoided to look at it for as long as possible.
Only when Bora finally calmed a bit and excused herself to wash her face, did he find the courage to understand what his eyes were informing him.
Glass was still on the floor, the vegetables on the counter making it so the entire place smelt a little funky, the bloody knife.
He started with the glass. Picked up the larger shards with his own hand, fetched a broom for the smaller bits. The blood had dried on the floor so he had to find some rags and wet them first, before he could tackle that. While it soaked, he threw the food on the trash, scrubbed the cutting board clean, wrapped the knife with plastic to throw it out - he couldnât trust it anymore.
When Bora came back, not even 15 minutes later, having recomposed herself, she found Minho on his hand and knees, on the verge of a panic attack while trying to clean the stain on your kitchen tiles.
She calls his name a couple of times before he finally looks up, eyes red with the threat of tears.
So it is Boraâs turn to be there for him, sinking on the floor, holding onto her friend even if he refuses to hold back, shoulders tense, eyes shut tight.
âShe needed meâ, his voice is barely above a whisper but Bora is holding him so close, she hears him loud and clear. Wouldâve even if he had made no sound. Her thoughts had been pretty similar.
âShe has youâ, she tries to comfort, but know itâs not enough.
She starts patting his back and feels him tense more.
Bora sucks at this.
âYou suck at thisâ, and she chuckles, because itâs true. And he chuckles back because it is probably the fourth time they hug like that. Ever.
Itâs loaded but Bora takes the rag from him and keeps scrubbing, wordlessly. He appreciates her more than ever before.
It takes him a minute to regain feeling on his legs, and he paces around the small space until he spots the back of your phone, your metallic phonecase with the little stickers barely holding on. Itâs dead, he expected as much, but it helps with giving him a new purpose, an excuse to leave the kitchen.
Between the two of them, it takes a couple of hours to clean the entire place and get everything you need. Minho keeps pushing away guilt spirals and every time he looks at Bora without her noticing, it looks like sheâs doing the same.
He will need some time, they both will.
But then his phone dings with a new incoming message from his mom, but he knew it was you texting as he opened the notification to a new zoomed in picture of his daughterâs tiny little cute ear.
He needed some time, but heâd be okay. Because his daughter had tiny little cute ears. And because his daughterâs mom was you, who sent him a photo with a tiny little cute ear and a follow up text, I could eat her whole!!!!!!
--
To leave without your baby was probably the hardest thing you have ever done. You had been discharged, but she had to stay behind for a couple more days so the medical team could make sure she was completely healthy and ready to be taken care of by just the two of you. And of course that was a scary concept. Something both you and Minho had been grappling with for months. Once she was born, she was your responsibility. Forever. But even if it was scary, what was even scarier was being kept apart, even if just for 48 hours.
Not even that long, actually, since most of that time was spent with the two of you with her at the hospital. The car trips were not kind to your healing body, but you insisted on them. So every day Minho would drive the two of you to stay the few hours that the hospital allowed.
However, when the day came that you could all drive home together, as a family, Minho was a pile of nerves.
After the fifth horn blasted your way, you had enough, âMinho, please, for the love of godâ
âItâs not my fault theyâre impatient,â his knuckles were holding so tight around the steering wheel that they had turned white, âIâm not going any fasterâ
âIâm not telling you to floor the pedalâ, you plead from the backseat, where you have your hand gently placed on your babyâs stomach beside you, over the baby chair, âjust enough so the horns stop scaring me half to deathâ
You are also dreading the noise waking up the baby. If she whined even just a little bit, you were afraid Minho might collapse.
The speedometer barely increases. You follow a bead of sweat travel down Minhoâs forehead, his eyes still firmly on the road. He insisted on having the heater all the way up, just to be safe, he said, after checking she was bundled up enough to go the few meters from the hospital to the car. The higher temperature inside the car mixed with Minhoâs own body overheating on nervousness made it so his hair was already wet and sticking to his forehead.
âWeâre almost thereâ, he reassures himself, so quietly you barely understand him.
You make it in one piece, of course. Did it took you thrice as long? Sure, but Minho steps out of the car like a soldier coming back from battle with a victory, so you decide not to tease him about it. This time.
The apartment had been cleaned before you even stepped in yourself, first by Minho and Bora and then by Minhoâs mum, who insisted on dropping by before you were released from the hospital to stock up your fridge. Of course she ended up doing a lot more than just bringing you food, but you were so drained when you finally made it back the first time, you barely took notice of how spotless the place was.
Minho had brought in enough of his clothes to fill out all the empty space on your wardrobe. Youâd have to rearrange eventually, but for now you made it work. Itâs not as if you had a proper conversation about it, it just felt natural that heâd live with you for the time being.
Youâd work out everything else eventually, probably find a bigger place for the three of you. There were plenty of conversations to still be held but, for now, it felt like you had all the time in the world to get to them.
[2:51PM] kim seungmin: are you home yet?
[2:51PM] kim seungmin: photos?
It was not the first message like that youâve gotten that day. Maybe the most direct but still. All your friends had been spamming you for updates, some more than others. While still at the hospital, only Minhoâs parents were able to meet the baby. Felix, Bora, Jihye and Seoyun were allowed to see her through the maternity glass when they stopped by to visit, but everyone else was only getting photos and videos still.
The rest of Stray Kids had wrapped up the Japan promotions and were already back home, finishing some shootings from which Minho was allowed out. The general public was still unaware of everything. How his team had managed youâre not sure - but you were grateful nonetheless.
You went through the process of taking the baby out of the carrier and moving her to the bassinet. Every time you had to move her while she slept still felt like defusing a bomb. Itâs not even that she was much of a crier, she was the easiest baby to care for. But she was So Very Small, and even with all the drama around her birth, she carried some powerful lungs. The pairing of small+mighty was fitting for a child made by Minho and yourself, but also made you always nervous of setting her off.
As she settled on a sleeping position, you snapped a quick photo of her. You had imagined this moment for months, your perfect baby, cozy and safe at home. Maybe time had slipped by you again, as you didnât even hear Minho coming in before you felt his hand at your waist.
âHiâ, he whispered, bringing his body closer to you so he could have a better look at the bassinet too, caging you with his arms.
âI canât believe sheâs hereâ, was your reply.
âMe eitherâ
It was quiet while the two of you admired her. Minhoâs touch keeping you in place, his warmth rivaling the heater at the apartment. He had his face turned towards the sleepy little human but you allowed yourself a minute to take him in too. His expression soft, his eyes holding more love than you have ever though possible. Your phone buzzed again, demanding for your attention. You sneaked a little peck on Minhoâs cheek before checking the device.
[3:06PM] bang chan (skz leader): did Lino survive the drive home?
[3:06PM] bang chan (skz leader): I hope you are all alright!!!
[3:06PM] bang chan (skz leader): texting to let you know the statement should be up in a few hours, just need your final ok
[3:07PM] bang chan (skz leader): and also to ask for baby pictures
[3:07PM] bang chan (skz leader): please
You show Minho the texts, to which he rolls his eyes before grabbing his own phone and nudging your waist, signaling that the two of you should step out.
The company was set to release a statement regarding Minhoâs current absence from Stray Kids activities. Heâd still do the Music Shows and the comeback showcase in a couple of weeks, before a much needed vacation break for the entire group. The first announcement would only state that he had a family emergency that pulled him away for a few weeks - which, to all accounts, was the truth. Because of that, there would be some content coming up that did not include him, but heâd be back for Stray Kids upcoming comeback, the rollout to which had started happening a few days before, just as you were about to leave the hospital.
That piece had been long reviewed and approved, the final âokâ being more of a formality than anything else.
The second statement, however, was still a hot topic of conversation between the two of you.
Minho insisted that you didnât need to divulge anything. You insisted that if people were to find out anything somewhere else, itâd be much worse.
Of course you didnât want to pop your little bubble. Life was good with only your small inner circle aware that the world had forever changed with the coming of your daughter. But you loved Minho. And Minho loved performing. So you wanted to follow the companyâs suggestion, a simple announcement, stating that you were his girlfriend - which was also true, now, apparently - and that the two of you had welcomed a babygirl together. That Minho would take a break to enjoy time with his new family but would come back soon as normal. Asking for your privacy to be respected and for the fans to wish you and the baby well. You knew thereâd be backlash, the company had been preparing for it for months now. But the group was behind him and you were sure that, if you kept it simple and honest, not much could be held over him by the fans either.
On Minhoâs side, however, worry was eating him alive. He had so much of his personal life scrutinized already that the concept of putting you in any sort of harmâs way was a bit too much to his liking. If it was up to him, the three of you would disappear to a far away island, never to be seen again. And he told you as much, many times, only to wonder on the next breath how heâd be able to live without food delivery. So you knew he was only postponing the inevitable.
He made it to the couch first, making himself comfortable and opening his arms in an invitation. You took your time adjusting your weigh onto him, the stitches still uncomfortable and making you move with care. Once you settled, Minho pulled up the e-mail with the notice on his phone, silently reading through the first one and sending a quick ok back to his manager.
He eyed you for a minute before pulling up the second one. The two of you had gone over it many times already, with only one final details to be added.
âWhat are you afraid of?â you ask, once you realize heâs just staring mindlessly at the writing on the screen.
He pushes out all the air in his lungs before replying, âI donât know. Everything.â
âWhat is everything?â, his fingers start to run through your hair and you close your eyes, taking in his touch.
âYou receiving hateâ, he starts and you nod along, âpeople leaking your informationâ
âWe have prepared for thatâ, is your response, âthere are no traces of me online anymore, we went through a security verification, the company made me sign so many papers my hand has not recovered from the cramps yetâ
He laughs weakly.
âIâm still scared of it, something happeningâ
Me being away, is the part he doesnât voice but you hear anyway.
You push your body away from him so you could see his eyes, âMinho, baby,â
He makes no efforts to hide his smile and you take advantage of that.
âMy loveâ, you draw in closer.
âMy sweetâ, you kiss his cheek.
âCaringâ, his nose.
âDarlingâ, his lips.
âBaby daddyâ, he laughs.
âAnything can happen at any momentâ, you start, keeping your tone light, âwe can only try our best to make our now as okay as possible. And thatâs what we are doing. Iâm so sure about us, about you. And the you Iâm sure about is the one that belongs on the stage, just as much as the one that drives so slow when our daughter is in the car I might as well have walked home.â
He takes that in and you know heâs just being stubborn at this point. You had won this argument days ago.
âWhat if you grow tired of me?â you open your mouth to interrupt but he keeps going before you can, âand then you are forever tied to me by this very public thing?â
Itâs then that you bring your own phone up, unlocking it to reveal the picture of your daughter sleeping at her bassinet that you had just snapped. You shove the screen closer to his face, forces him to look at her.
âI think Iâm pretty tied to you forever alreadyâ, you try to keep the amusement out of your voice, but really, what was there to fear on that front?
You would be in Minhoâs life forever. That has always been the plan. Even before your baby. Before the kissing. Before you finished growing up at all. From that very first cold day you met him as a kid, you knew there was no life of yours without him in it.
He stares at the photo for a little bit longer before a sigh is purposely pushed out. So he unlocks his phone again, reading through the statement one final time before finally sending it back to the company, so they could put that into motion next.
âHappy?â he kisses your temple as you snuggle back into him.
âVeryâ, you hum, content, âI am worried about something, thoughâ
âA bit too late for thatâ, he draws back to search your face, but only finds that glint of mischief you reserve specially for him.
âIâm worried about Bun being a week old and still not having a proper nameâ, and at that he has to laugh. Fully.
âI thought we agreed weâll just call her Bun until sheâs old enough to decide on a name for herself?â
âChangbin has been texting me ideasâ, you relax back onto him, the movement of his fingers on your hair returning immediately, âIâm afraid that if we take too long he might take matters into his own handsâ
âBora has been doing the same with meâ, he admits, âand Iâm afraid she might have already started on some paperworkâ
You laugh with him until the sound dies off. Itâs quiet outside, the buzz of the early winter afternoon not reaching your windows. The sky is turning grey and you think first snow should come any day now.
A thought pops into your head at that but, as soon as you open your mind to voice it, a tiny cry breaks through.
Minho is at his feet in an instant, his body reacting to the sound on autopilot.
You let him through and waits as he goes to pick up your baby, maybe he will be able to put her back to sleep by himself, maybe he will bring her to you and the three of you will sit together until she quiets down. Youâll have to wait and see.
Maybe that should be your new life motto.
Just wait and see.
> a/n | Bad news is that we're oh so close to the end I can already taste it. Good news is that I have like three different WIPS that I'm so excited about I'll probably speed run the writing so I can get them to you soon hehe As always, thanks for reading, see you sooooon
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, hospitals, pregnancy, mentions of medical issues, this one is mostly fluff MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
16. I canât hog you all to myself
âCongrats, dadâ, and the world halts to a stop.
Minho had been aimlessly spinning at the speed of light for the last however many hours, but it all turned frozen solid just as fast.
The doctorâs expression was solemn as she explained what had happened. He felt like his brain has turned into mush, but this was important, he needed to focus. He tried not to read too much into her body posture, the way she was wording her speech, but it was impossible. His entire system was in overdrive, he needed a nap. He needed to punch something. He needed to see you.
You had just gotten out of surgery and had been awake for most of it. You had seen your baby, because your baby was born.
His baby was born.
But she was in distress, there were fluids in her lungs and she did not cry on her way out. He listens as the doctor explains how your heart rate had spiked then and it made it so you started losing too much blood.
Minhoâs own chest was about to burst open.
The baby was a bit premature but her weigh was good and her heart strong. Of course she had a strong heart, she was half of you, after all.
Theyâd need to keep an eye on her because of the fluid on the lungs, but they were positive sheâd make a full recovery and be out of the hospital in no time. She was taken to the NICU so the doctor could keep a close eye on her, and theyâd keep him updated on when heâd be able to meet her.
You, however, had given them a bit more trouble. The medical team managed to get you stable, but you were still unconscious and under a heavy dose of anesthetics. They couldnât really access any further damage until you woke up, so everyone was now playing the waiting game. The doctor would keep monitoring you, but you were being taken to a private room soon, where Minho would be able to go in and see you if he wanted to.
As if there was even a chance he wouldnât.
He looked around the waiting room, at the people surrounding him. His parents were as close as they could be, his dadâs hand hovering over his back, not touching but making sure Minho knew they were there. Bora and Felix had both stood up, but were still by the chairs, quietly listening. Jihye was with them, but who knows when she had gotten there. One of his managers was also there, and a couple of security guards. Again, who knows for how long.
Minho had no idea how much time had passed from the moment he stepped out of the plane to the time he was following the nurse through a corridor, being led to you.
He felt the moment he was alone, his friends and family left behind. The comfort of their presence missed immediately. But you were right on the other side of the door, by yourself. The nurse guided him in.
You were lying on the bed, eyes closed, hair pulled up. You had so many cables connected to you that Minho couldnât fix his eyes on a single place. The monitor beeping beside the bed indicated how your hearts was beating. It was steady but he couldnât help but follow the lines as they moved, willing them to remain that way.
He took the few steps to reach you carefully, as if any harsh movement could make you disappear.
Itâs too much to see you like that. You looked pale and even though he could clearly see the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed on your own, it was eerie to see you so still. He noticed when the nurse brought him a chair. He took a sit but never allowed his eyes to drift from you.
And Minho stays there.
At some point he decided it was okay to take your hand, and did just that. Heâs so careful, afraid you might disintegrate under his touch. He uses both hands to hold onto you, tracing the shape of your fingers, the veins underneath your skin.
Itâs so quiet. Even with the beeps of the machines, the drip of the IV. He had hectic days, even before the last 24 hours, his time had been filled with people and music and screams and joy.
And now it was so quiet.
Being quiet beside you was not usually so quiet. Is was silent, yes, but never this quiet. There was always the drum of his heart, your gentle movements. He could hear when you were thinking too loud, and eventually you would make a sound, hum a song, say something silly. And the quiet would turn into laughter.
Quiet with you had always felt like the early hours of the day, when the sky was still dark but already showing traces of blue on the horizon. When the city was still asleep and you could barely hear to the first chirps of the birds. When the wind was enough to carry sounds from farther away, before the sounds nearby took all the attention for themselves. Quiet with you had always felt like the beginning of something.
Minho had no idea how long he sat there. Hoping, praying to a power he wasnât sure he believed in, willing for you to open your eyes. He hears when the door opens again, a nurse coming in to check on you - and also on him.
She doesnât tell him to move, so he doesnât. He canât even make himself pay attention to what she is doing, reading the charts, pressing buttons. He only really looks at her when she rests a gentle hand on his shoulder.
âDo you want to meet your daughter?â, is the question she poses.
And somehow, thatâs when he remembers he has a daughter now.
Minho has no idea where his mind has been, filled with thoughts of you, you, you. So much so he almost forgets the reason you were even there. And then he feels guilty and angry at himself and disappointed at his own brain. He looks at the nurse, then at you. He didnât want to leave you. You would never forgive him for leaving your little girl alone. He would never forgive himself for not thinking about her, just hours into this world and having spent all of that by herself.
So he nods. He stands up. He lays a gentle kiss to your forehead, careful not to disturb anything. He follows the nurse out, as she leads him through a different set of corridors, passing through multiple doors before the walls start to look more colorful.
The last door opens to a smaller room with a couple empty incubators. And right there, on the center, an occupied one.
He doesnât need anyone to tell him who that is.
Heâs glued to the white bassinet in a second, just watching.
Sheâs so small.
He knew babies were small, but have they always been this small?
She also had some cables and machines attached to her but, just like you, her chest was moving up and down, air filtering through her tiny lungs.
âWe have drained all the liquid, it should be a few hours before we let her try to breath on her own, but sheâs doing goodâ, the doctor appeared by their side, also looking at the tiny baby while laying out the information to him, âdo you want to touch her?â
He nods, not trusting his own voice. She helps him disinfect his hands, gives him a mask and brings a chair from somewhere behind him, before lifting the sturdy barrier of the incubator. And then she walks to the other side of the room, allowing him as much privacy as possible.
Minho didnât know what to do with himself so, instead of reaching out to his baby, he just looked at her for a long time, trying to memorize as much of her face as possible. The shape of her nose really did resemble his own, but there was something of you on her too. Every time he focused on a different part of her, he could see you, and then he could see himself, and then he saw her, in all her individuality. The mix of her parents taking the passenger seat as her own uniqueness was allowed to shine through.
She fusses and he almost loses all his ability to function. His hand goes to her on instinct, trying to calm her? Trying to calm himself? He runs over her cheek with a single finger and the baby turns her face towards him, as if seeking the contact. He allows his knuckles to touch her arm, a finger to find her hand. And she holds onto it.
The tears come fast after that. Quietly but merciless. He feels his mask getting wet but does nothing to stop the flow of water coming out of his eyes. His baby keeps holding onto him, he stills his hand and ignores the cramping of his arm at the position heâs holding. Heâs not letting go of her.
âHiâ, his voice comes hoarse but he wills himself to keep pushing the sound out.
He should introduce himself. He should apologize for leaving her alone for so long. He should tell her sheâs the prettiest thing he has ever seen. He does none of that, instead choosing something else entirely, an absolute truth no one could take away from him.
âI love youâ, he all but whispers, âI will always love youâ.
And maybe it was wishful thinking, but he could swear that her hold on his finger grew tighter. It only encouraged him further.
âMommy really wants to meet youâ, he goes on, âI really wanted to meet you, too. So you have to get very strong very fast so we can all be together, otherwise mommy will be very mad at me, I canât hog you all to myself.â
He hears something beep behind him and only then Minho remembers the doctor was still in the room too. She steps closer and carefully tells him he needed to go now. Before he can protest she assures him heâll be able to come back in a couple of hours, they just need to run some more tests on her. She asks if he wants her to take a picture of them and he nods yes, remembering his phone on his pocket for the first time in what felt like hours.
Once she hands his phone back, the very first picture of him and his daughter, he also snaps one of her tiny hand holding onto his finger, before fighting his every instinct and gently letting go. She fusses for a second and his heart breaks, but he knew he had to tell you all about her, so he needs to go back to you.
While following a different nurse back to your room, he quickly texts his parents and the memberâs group chat the photo of his babyâs hand. He canât be bothered to say anything else then, so he silences the phone and puts it back on his pants, avoiding the unavoidable question a while longer.
â
Mrs. Lee was not sure what she was expecting when she noticed the text from her son.
The doctor had told her that Minho had gone in to meet his daughter. She offered Mrs. Lee the chance to go see you while he was away and she took it gladly.
She spent a few minutes fussing over your unconscious figure. Adjusted your pillows, fixed your hair, held your hand. The doctor had to explain everything to her twice, she knew you were safe for now, just needed to wake up. So she told you about how Minho was already there, waiting for you, how he went in to meet your little baby, and that you needed to be up soon to join them.
Mrs. Lee couldnât wait to see you be a mom. She had seen so many different versions of you over the years, you went from a quiet girl to a passionate dancer to a dedicated student to a more than capable office worker. And all those versions had one thing in common: you always gave them your all.
So she expected youâd do just that as a mom.
It would be hard, of course it would, it always was. But sheâd be there for you, and so would her husband, her son, your friends. You had a whole village to help you out. And that village needed you with them. She did her best to translate that to you, to remind you of how wanted and loved you were. Because thatâs what mothers do.
They love and love and love. And hope that the person they are loving grow healthy and happy. Grow knowing how special they were. Mrs Lee regretted not making herself more clear about that. You were never just another stray Minho brought home, as he sometimes liked to joke about. You were her baby too, even if you came to her a little later in life. And now you had given her a granddaughter.
A granddaughter that she had just seen for the first time, through a little hand wrapped around a single finger.
She told you about it, a mess of words that meant nothing and everything. Something to encourage you to wake up fast. You needed to see it with your own eyes.
When a nurse came by to tell her she needed to go, that Minho was coming back to stay with you soon, she was slow to stand up and even slower to let go of your hand.
A motherâs heart split in half, torn between so many people she wanted to hold and protect. But doubling in size as well, to make sure thereâs always space for more.
â
Felix had waited for as long as he could.
He sat on the waiting room for over an hour after Minho went in. It felt like longer but also like just a blink of an eye. But to no avail, the doctor came back to give them a few updates, to say that Minho was sitting with you - and no one wanted to rush him.
So as his manager started to point out they should be going soon, Felix did his best to push his worries to the back of his mind, he had a shoot to attend, a couple of interviews to promote the brand he was representing.
During the shoot he kept taking little breaks to check his phone though, the only action able to ease his mind. The members had asked for updates a couple of times and Felix created a new group chat, adding Bora and Jihye, to help keep them all on the loop of what could be happening at the hospital.
He even added Minho to his emergency contacts, just in case. If he texted or called, no matter what, Felix would stop to check.
So it shouldnât have surprised him when, in the middle of an interview, with the cameras still rolling, his phone alerted him loudly of an incoming text. He had the decency to feign embarrassment as he explained himself to the crew around him, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
âIâm very sorry, I just have to check thisâ, he unlocked his phone quickly, seeing the photo Minho had sent to the usual Stray Kids group chat.
It was his hyungâs hand, one finger out towards the tiniest fist Felix had ever seen. The babyâs own fingers wrapped around her dadâs. He couldnât see the little girls face, just a little bit of her arm and the few wires attached to her. Even so, he felt a happiness beyond belief.
The interviewer cleared his throat and the sound brought Felix back to the moment. He sent a heart to the chat before storing his phone away again.
âA friend is in the hospital, I just got word from themâ, he explained himself, not wanting to seem rude and unprofessional, but not wanting to give anything else away. The presenter was understanding and the interview went on as it should have.
It would be over a month before it aired, but Felix was surprised when, later, that part remained in the final video uncut. Fans praised him for his care, the way he was able to balance out his professional and personal life.
The members used his face as a meme for months. He had all his walls down for a second, the exact moment his eye landed on the photograph. Felix had looked worried and happy and coy and in love, all in a matter of second, the quick succession of expressions a whole banquet for editors on the fandom to run with it.
Minho said nothing about it but, when he first met Felix after the interview was online, he held his friendâs hand wordlessly for a little bit longer than necessary.
â
Hyunjin was not one to cry easily, really.
As much as he was a soft, romantic, sensible guy, tears were rare to rise.
But as he checked his phone and saw the notification for a text from Minho, he could feel his throat closing even before he opened to see what it really was.
He prepared himself for every possible outcome. Good, bad, terrible and wonderful.
Before he could muster the courage, however, he heard Changbin gasp beside him.
Stray Kids were all at Jisungâs room at the hotel. Jeongin had fallen asleep and Chan had stepped out to fetch something from his room, but everyone else was just laying around, in various states of stand by. Their recording had been pushed back and their flight was only late the next day, but no one felt like going out.
They were desperate for news. Bora had, surprisingly to Hyunjin, been serious about keeping them in the loop as much as possible. But still, it didnât feel like enough.
So when Hyunjin looked at Changbin, he also noticed how every other awake person in the room was glued to their phones. Seungmin was nudging Jeongin awake, shoving the screen on his face. Hyunjin took that as incentive to finally look at his own device.
His eyes were wet before he even fully processed what he was feeling. Chan bursted through the doors.
âHave you seen it?â, he was panting, phone in hand as well.
âWhat is going on?â Jeongins voice was thick with sleep as he grabbed onto Seungminâs wrist to adjust the phone away from his face, finding his focus, âis thisâŠ?â
âHyungggg I wanna go homeâ, Jisung whines towards Chan, âwe should be thereâ
Their leader pats Jisungâs head lovingly. The big eyed boy worded what everyone else had been thinking, and even though Hyunjin knew they had to finish their job before they could fly back, he also felt the same. Everything else seemed pointless as he looked at the tiny humanâs hand.
Changbinâs hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to see his hyung also had misty eyes.
âYa Hyunjin-ah, are you crying?â and the question made Hyunjin cry harder.
As he heard the other memberâs laugh in disbelief and also sniff alongside him, Hyunjin had set his mind on a new goal: to be the absolute best uncle to that little girl.
â
Bora didnât know what she was feeling anymore.
Powerless had been a constant answer. Sad, worried. Angry at herself. For all that talking of being a good dad-uncle-aunt for the little girl you were carrying, she really felt like she fucked up.
If only she had checked in earlier. If only she met you more frequently. If only she had memorized the code to your door. If only she had paid attention to those CPR classes.
If.
If.
If.
What if you never woke up?
What if something horrible happened to the baby?
She could feel Jihyeâs hand on her knee, a comfortable pat that had been going on for hours, but Bora couldnât focus her attention anywhere.
As tiredness took over, all her will to make light of the situation dissipated. Minhoâs mom had went in a few minutes ago, she had registered as much. Jihye had asked the nurse a couple of medical questions, using medical words Bora could not decipher by herself. Minhoâs dad had stepped away to fetch everyone some coffee with one of the bodyguards and there was another one quietly typing on his phone nearby.
Her own phone buzzed but she didnât check. Couldnât do it. She knew it was probably the new groupchat Felix had created, one or multiple of the members asking for updates. Updates she couldnât give them.
But then Jihyeâs hand slipped away and the lack of contact made her turn to look. Her friend was misty eyed starting at her own phone. And Bora was not good at feelings but she was surprisingly perceptive.
Jihye did not look sad or worried. She looked in awe.
And Bora dared to hope.
So she fetched her own phone, unlocking it to reveal the groupchat straight away. The buzzing kept coming in rapid succession, and she had to scroll back a bit to see what everyone else was reacting to.
A tiny hand wrapped around one of her oldest friendâs finger.
There was suddenly a surge of energy running through her body. All that nervous energy coming back in the best way possible.
Bora was still worried. Still angry at herself too, a little bit. But now she really was an aunt-uncle, and she decided the best she could do was try to be a good one.
As for the dad part? She guessed Minho had that one covered.
â
Your consciousness came back first in sounds.
There was beeping, a some sort of dripping going on on your left.
The consistent hum you associated with a heater turned on.
And, most importantly, Minhoâs voice. Going on and on about so many things you couldnât keep track.
Minho was a talkative man only once you got to know him. He could go on for hours when something peaked his interest. But it was not a usual thing. Not a daily occurrence. So it felt odd to hear him go on for so long.
He sounded happy and sad, all at once. Excited about some things, coy about others. Most of all, you could tell he was talking straight at you.
You started to map out your own body. You were laying down, your legs were tingling, something hurt but you couldnât point out where. You felt numb on most of your body. Someone was holding your hand.
Minho was holding your hand. You could tell as much.
You decided to focus on his touch, the way his fingers were tracing your palm, your wrist.
That helped with understanding. With remembering.
You have always loved how Minho held onto you. Casual, firm, careful. How heâd always run his hand down your arm before intertwining his fingers to yours. How heâd brush your hair back, tuck it behind your ears, free your shoulders from the strands so he could rest his head there, plant kisses too, later. How heâd be so gentle with your bump.
Your bump.
Your baby.
You had seen her, she was so tiny, she was screaming and then she was not and then there was a rush around you, a change on the was the doctors were speaking, their attention splitting between you and her.
Thatâs when everything went dark.
Minhoâs voice pulled you away from your panic. He was calm, so she must be alright too. Right?
You made yourself focus again, maybe if you tried to follow his voice?
There was something warm on your hand, and then something cold.
If only you could open your eyes.
It was so bright, even with your eyes closed, if felt like the light was right above you.
You want to complain about it, but something is blocking your throat.
Your eyes flutter open, itâs harsh and you have to blink fast as they well up with tears.
Now more of you hurt, you can tell something doesnât feel right, but everything is still too numb.
Minho calls for you, his face comes into focus.
He looks so pale. He had always sported a fairer complexion, but not like that. His hair is a mess, you want to help him fix it. You squeeze his hand and it draws a gasp out of him. Minho looks frightened, but you are on the ground, so thereâs nothing to be scared of. You want him to let go of your hand so you can wipe his eyes, but he keeps holding onto you tight.
He calls for a nurse and you want to scold him, you want it to be just the two of you, you have so much to tell him.
But then they are pulling Minho away, and you wanted your hands free but now they are so cold. And he looks so sad as heâs escorted out of the room. Your brain registers he keeps telling you something, but you are having trouble putting meaning the in the worlds.
It sounds like I love you.
> a/n | every comment on the last chapter was so kind!!!!! you guys are wonderful, it makes it hard to stick to a posting schedule because I just want to give you everythinggggg <3 as always, thank you for reading, see you soon!
> taglist is open!
15. Iâve been told hospital fashion is all the rave now
Maybe it wouldâve been better to call off work.
But you were not even a week away from your maternity leave, and already working reduced hours, so it felt unfair to the rest of your team to start lacking now.
So even if you had barely slept the night before, with the baby being overly active - completely ignoring her fatherâs request, by the way - you pulled yourself together and drove to the office.
And then, as soon as you got there, damn relentless braxton hicks. The first time you had felt them was so early in your pregnancy you couldnât even panic about the fake contractions, just flagging your doctor who advised you to stay hydrated and take the chance to practice your breathing.
You had already downed more water over the past hour than you had the past two days, and the deep breaths suddenly seemed to make the pain worse. So you tried to hyper focus on the task at hand and make through the day.
The worst thing is that it caught you off guard every. damn. time.
Youâd be perfecting a presentation and then have to double over on your chair when a new wave of pain hit.
A couple hours would go by and during a tea break youâd almost collapse with your knees giving out at the sudden discomfort.
It was only when Seoyun noticed you gripping your table a second time, knuckles going white, that she decided to take action.
âPlease just go home, honeyâ, she had brought you another glass of water, and stared you down until you drank it.
âItâs just braxton hicks, you know how it isâ, it was one of the many maternity talks the two of you had shared.
âYes, and I know theyâre a bitch, specially later onâ, she chuckled, and then discretely pointed towards one of the new internâs desk, âyouâre making the kids uncomfortableâ
You rolled your eyes, âitâs a completely normal thing and those kids are literally like, twenty-fiveâ
âRemember how you felt about pregnancy literally like a year ago?â you knew she was right, as you were one of the people that would visibly cringe whenever she overshared any weird pregnancy quirk. Good thing Seoyun was a better human than you were and had always took it lightly.
âDoes this feel like karma?â you frown your nose at her playfully.
âJust a little bitâ, she winked, âbut seriously, honey, go homeâ
You looked at the clock to see that you still had a couple more hours before you could leave, so you settled on a middle ground.
âIâll just finish this and Iâll go, promiseâ
âIâll come check on you!â
And she really did. Almost an hour later, you had just hit âsendâ on the e-mail with the presentation you had been working on, and she spawned out of nowhere by your side again, scaring you out of your train of thought.
âCan you drive home?â she asks, and you see she will not relent so you slowly start packing your things and turning off your work computer.
âYes, momâ, you sound annoyed but she knows you mean it with affection.
âAre you sure?â she had been watching you, noticing how you seemed to be in more and more pain as the times you had to stop to take a deep breath became more frequent.
âIâll drive slow and be very safeâ, and she seems convinced enough to let you go.
She was right though, the drive home proved a bit of a challenge but you managed, silently thanking Minho once again for allowing you to keep his car. Public transport wouldâve definitely killed you today.
The thought makes you want to text him but then you remember that he had back to back interviews all day, and then some recordings going into the evening, so instead you decide to take a shower, eat something, and resort to finding some silly videos later on to spam him, something he could watch during his small breaks to decompress, instead of making him worry about you some more.
A few hours pass by in a haze of discomfort before your phone notifies you of a massage again. You pick it up expecting it to be Minho and scold yourself at the disappointment you feel when it is not.
[6:51PM] bora-bora: managed to finish a bit early!
[6:51PM] bora-bora: can I pick you up or do you need a little bit more time?
Scrolling a little back on the text thread youâre reminded of how you had agreed to have dinner out with her today, the plan completely slipping your mind. You look at the time and see that itâs not even 7PM yet and you are already drained, the thought of changing again to go out gives you an immediate headache. But then you feel bad, Bora had been trying to schedule something just the two of you for a little while, but something always came up. So try to settle for a middle ground;
[6:53PM] y/n: do you think we can stay in?
[6:53PM] y/n: Iâve been home for a while and refuse to put on shoes again
[6:54PM] bora-bora: should i pick up some take away?
You sigh in relief.
[6:54PM] y/n: Iâll make us some stew
[6:55PM] y/n: maybe grab some side dishes?
[6:55PM] bora-bora: got it momma
[6:55PM] bora-bora: be there in 20
You groan as you get up from your spot on the couch to start cooking. You couldâve asked her to pick you a whole meal but youâve been craving the stew Minhoâs mum used to make when the two of you were kids and feeling a bit poorly. So you decide to brave your way around the kitchen for the sake of your babyâs specific craving.
The pain starts hitting you again as youâre slicing some vegetables. This time it feels sharper, one of your hands holding your belly, hoping that the baby could sense it and calm down. Please calm down. It works and you dare feel relief before the ache comes back, tenfold. The hand not on your belly folds itself into a fist, not realizing what it grabs onto until itâs too late. You barely have time to notice that the sting of pain has switched places before you see the blood. Your fingers slowly letting go of the knife blade you accidentally closed them around.
The cuts are not too deep but there is so much blood.
You move away from the counter, the knife dropping and hitting the floor. Your back hits your kitchen table, your gaze recklessly trying to access what to pay attention to first when the sound of glass breaking hits your ears. The cup was where you had last left it, on the very corner of the table. It promptly felt to the ground, shards spreading everywhere.
You hold your bleeding hand onto yourself, trying to keep the red from spreading, but as you reach across to pick up your phone and ask for help, the pain on your stomach hits again. Your knees give out and you hit the floor with a soundless gasp. The shreds of glass that pierces your skin no longer enough to distract you from the pain.
Your mind screams at you and it takes the last of your strength to raise your arm, trying to bring your phone closer to you, only to find your good hand empty, the device must have slipped away with your fall. Another wave of sharp pain hits you, making you curl onto yourself on the floor, something wet under your cheek but your vision has gone blurry.
Your phone dings somewhere that sounds very far away, and thatâs your last memory before darkness welcomes you with open arms.
â
Bora has never been good with feelings.
So when Minho reached out to ask her what she thought about the relationship between him and you, all she could do was snicker, hit him in the head, and tell him it was none of her business and he better not make it so.
You kept her roughly on the loop, she has been your friend for long enough to be able to read between the line of what you shared willingly, never prying too much on what she could tell you were not ready to face yourself.
Before Minho left for Japan he made Bora promise sheâd check in with you - as if she needed him to remind her. She held her tongue that time, seeing how genuinely on edge he seemed about leaving you alone so far into the pregnancy, and promised Minho she would drop by to annoy you as much as possible. But, unbeknownst to her, the days slipped by and now it had been almost two weeks since you were last together.
She messaged, of course she did, but she was not being as good of a friend as she had told herself she would be.
So tonight, once she got you to agree to go out for dinner so she could properly see you, she planned on broaching the whole feelings conversation with you. It would not be long before Bun was around and she was nothing if not committed to the role of favorite aunt-uncle-dad, whatever the kid needed. And as favorite aunt-uncle-dad, she needed both you and Minho to stop postponing a conversation you didnât even really need to have. The two of you clearly belonged together - and always have. You just needed to stop being so hard headed, stop using the baby as an excuse to not give into a lifetime of being disgustingly in love.
She was willing to suffer the role of a third wheel. She would not do it quietly, but for the sake of your happiness she would endure it.
So as she stood outside your door, a plastic bag of warm goodies on one hand, phone open on your messages waiting for a reply, she was going through all the possible ways she could start the conversation.
Hello best friend, good to see you best friend, hello unborn child I love so dearly, how about we take the night to start planning how you should propose to our other dumb best friend? Was what she was leaning towards. But for that you needed to open the damn door.
[7:26PM] bora-bora: hellooooo??
[7:28PM] bora-bora: i refuse to eat reheated food
[7:31PM] bora-bora: are you taking a shit?
[7:35PM] bora-bora: did you fall asleep?
[7:35PM] bora-bora: i swear to god if you fell asleepâŠ
She was starting to feel deflated and it might have started as a joke but the food really was going cold. Bora rings the buzzer again to no avail, at the same time as she presses the button to call you. She hears your ringtone on the other side of your door, which makes a little metaphorical siren turn on inside her head.
âY/n? Open up please?â, she pounds on the door, but not a sound comes from inside now that the phone had quit ringing.
She searches through your old text messages, trying to find the code to unlock the door. You had sent it a hundred times but Bora never seemed to memorize it.
âIâm coming in, okay?â, she yells at the wooden door while punching in the numbers.
Bora has never been good at feelings, but as she took in the sight of you passed out on the floor, she knew what panic felt like.
She doesnât remember screaming, but she think she did, as you seemed to react to something. She doesnât remember walking in or kneeling down, but she must have, because her hands were on you and they were red, where was the red coming from? She doesnât remember typing the emergency number on her phone, but she must have because she was giving out your address to a very kind person on the other side of the line, who kept asking her question she didnât know the answer to. She doesnât remember grabbing a towel but the instructions from the voice on the phone mustâve register because she was holding onto your bloody arm and doing her best to cover the wounds.
Your eyes fluttered open only for you to shut them tight again as a loud scream ripped out of your throat.
Bora doesnât remember holding onto you but she mustâve, as when the help finally got there they had to pry her limbs away from you. She doesnât remember the ride to the hospital, but somehow she could remember every single piece of information you ever laid out to her regarding your pregnancy. And thatâs when her mind started working again.
As Bora sat on the waiting room, blouse stained in dry blood, she stared at her own phone. They had tried calling Minho. She had tried calling Minho. No one could get through to him and, although she had contacted his parents already - and they were on their way, they couldnât reach him either. She couldâve asked his mom for the contact of a manager, but the woman seemed so distraught Bora didnât like the idea of asking her to do anything but get to the hospital.
But she needed to keep trying, because right that moment, Bora felt like a failliure.
So she scrolled through her contacts, trying to find anyone, anyone that could get through to him.
She had Hyunjinâs number from when they last worked together - they didnât really get along at all, some might even say there was a little bit of a rivalry there. But she could only hope that him knowing her distaste for him was enough to compel him to pick up the fucking phone.
â
Hyunjin was a sensible guy.
He worked hard on himself and achieved most of what he set his mind to.
So he didnât really like being scrutinized over nothing, which was how most of his conversations with Bora ended. He only still had her contact by chance, courtesy of a group chat Minho had made months prior so that they could work on parts of the comeback choreography together.
Itâs not as if they texted at all. He was also quite vocal to his friends about how he didnât find Boraâs sense of humor that funny. So as his phone lit up, his first instinct was to refuse the call.
He was taking his sweet time getting ready, they had a pre-recording later in the day and, while Chan and Minho took care of some interviews on behalf of the whole group, the younger members had planned on going out to do some shopping before having to go to the studio.
And Hyunjin was actually excited about visiting a couple stores Jeongin had been raving about. And his hair looked particularly good that day. And his new embassadorship was being announced in less then 24h. And theyâd soon be going back home and he would go on vacation with his parents. And he was feeling good, so he really didnât want to pick up the phone.
Because why the hell would Bora even call him?
No, really, why would she call him?
The phone stopped ringing. A minute went by. Hyunjin was about to get back to what he was doing - taking mirror selfies -, as it started again.
His curiosity got the best of him. So he picked up.
âoh thank godâ, and Hyunjin really didnât like Bora but he was a sensible guy. And as a sensible guy, he was good at picking up on the distress of her voice, the relief that mixed with the panic.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âI canât reach Minhoâ, the choreographer said, and she sounded so unlike herself he took the phone away from his ear to make sure he had the right person, before he could register what her reply could even mean.
âIs it y/n?â, he hoped it wasnât.
âWeâre at the hospitalâ, Bora sounded small, âI donât know what to doâ
And Hyunjin was a sensible guy, so as he heard her hiccup on the other side of the line, the confidence she usually carried being completely stripped away, Hyunjin felt the urge to comfort her, and so he did.
And because Hyunjin was also a capable guy, who achieved most of what he set his mind to, he told Bora he would find Minho and they would figure it out and it would all be okay, no need to worry at all.
Like much of what Hyunjin set his mind to achieve, it took some work. First, calling Minhoâs mom to get a better sense of the situation. She was not at the hospital yet, but Bora had managed to tell her more than she did him, so he now knew which hospital and a general sense of the situation. Mrs. Leeâs voice sounded strained, and Mr. Lee had to pipe in for some of the details while driving, but they were almost there, which was already a relief.
Next, to contact their managers. He probably told them more than he shouldâve, and hoped Minho and you could forgive him later for the overshare of personal details, but he needed to make sure they knew how serious it was. He also made it a point to let them know he was coming with, there was no way he trusted anyone to talk to Minho, except maybe Chan, who was also, unfortunately, unreachable.
Then, he texted Felix. Because Felix was flying back home early anyway. So he called another manager, and that turned into one more call to one more manager, but as he sat on the back of the car he had a pretty good plan laid out in front of him. Flights were being arranged, the necessary people were on the loop, Minhoâs parents had made it onto the hospital and Bora had gone into the room with them to see you. As Hyunjinâs car pulls up where the other memberâs recording is happening, he knows what he needs to say to Minho.
â
Minho liked to think of himself as a pretty level-headed guy.
It took a lot to make him feel unbalanced. And okay, recent events did shake him up a bit, sometimes the world felt tilted for a little while. But it always went back to its place fairly fast. He was adaptable. Good at riding the waves of whatever life threw at him. He kept routines and habits without much thought but was just as good with handling sudden changes.
He worked out, kept a healthy diet, watched comfort shows on his free time and texted you good morning every day. When he knew he would not be able to check his phone for a while, he made sure to let you know.
So, like usual, the last thing Minho did before stepping out of the waiting room was to check your location.
Your most recent message had been sent early morning, and the silence since was bothersome but not unknown of. By lunch time you usually had sent him at least a handful of silly animal videos he could watch during his break. He held back his disappointment at the lack of a curated selection from you but he didnât have much time anyway and, as he checked and saw that you were at home already, he calmed down, assuming that for once you must have listened to Seoyun and got off work a bit earlier.
So for the next who knows how many hours he focused on doing his job. Japanese now came easy for him and with Chan by his side, the recordings went smoothly. He could even say he had fun. He was wrapping up one of the last schedules for the day, with only the pre-recording with the whole group left before they could finally go back to the hotel and relax.
They were supposed to meet at a different location, but it wasnât unheard of for the members to stop by and ride together, so at first, when Minho spotted Hyunjin next to their manager, he didnât think much of it.
Chan seemed to pick up on something being wrong faster then him, taking the lead in reaching the younger member. It was only when Hyunjin focused remained on Minho instead of moving to their approaching leader that he knew something was off.
âHyung have you checked your phone?â, Hyunjin asks, instead of a normal civilized âhelloâ.
Minho shakes his head because no, he had not. His phone was left at the waiting room, plugged into a wall of chords so it could charge right on top of Chanâs trusted laptop.
And then Hyunjinâs mouth kept moving but Minho started to question every belief he ever had on himself.
Because you were at the hospital and they didnât know much but he should get on a plane and go back as soon as possible - which did not sound good. It sounded, in fact, very bad. It sounded like there was something definitely wrong and he was too far away to do anything about it. And it felt very bad, too. It felt like the ground was disappearing from underneath him. It felt like the world had not only tilted, but detached completely from where it should be, aimlessly spinning very fast on its way out of the solar system.
And Minho had always thought of himself as a very level-headed person, but with the world spinning out of control he couldnât really tell where the level even was, and he could only hope his head was still attached to the rest of his body.
His ears rang and he could barely make out how the rest of the conversation played out. Chan asked questions that Hyunjin and their manager took turns responding. At some point the leaderâs face was close enough to his own that Minho couldnât help but make himself focus enough to understand what his friend was laying out for him.
âHyunjin talked to your parents, theyâre already at the hospitalâ, is the first part that comes through, he misses the next part while his mind whirls, Minho couldnât even tell if he was feeling any relief at the first bit of information, too distracted by the thoughts of how every single nightmare he had over the past few months came crashing down at once. When he regained focus, he caught only the very last part of what his leader was saying, âyouâre on the next flight backâ.
He had no idea if his bags had been packed for him or not. He was still on the clothes he wore for the recording. They were casual enough to not draw any attention but he found himself thinking heâd much rather have his own clothes back, something with a hood he could hide inside of.
Minho knew you didnât have your phone with you. Someone had told him that. He couldnât remember who or why, but he knew it to be true. That did not stop him from checking your location again and again. It said you were at home. You shouldâve been at home.
And Minho prided himself in having quick reactions, a good sense of the world around him, his instincts rarely failed him.
But right then Minho was doubting his every thought, his mind felt scattered like never before and he did not know it was possible to worry so much about another human being. It was the type of worry that felt pathetic and confusing. The type you feel when you understand something but desperately doesnât want to.
So he shakes off his pride and admits that this time he was way over his head, there was no point trying to make sense of left and right, up and down. All he knew was forward and every direction pointed him towards you.
Before he knew it, heâs checked in, Felix beside him. When had the younger member appeared? How much did he know?
Enough, it seemed, as his freckled friend waves goodbye to his manager and guides Minho into the plane, sitting side by side and waiting for it to depart.
Felixâs hand reaches for him and he takes it, the closest thing to comfort he will be feeling for the next few hours, disconnected from the rest of the world.
â
Felix was pretty good at keeping track of time.
Heâs a busy person with many interests, he learned pretty fast that he needed to become best friends with his calendar if he wanted to accomplish everything he wished to.
He hated when a shoot ran too long, when an appointment was postponed, when plans changed last minute. He wasnât always like this though, he had to teach himself diligence. His favorite thing, however, was to be able to carve time out of his schedules to not have any plans.
It was a bit ironic, how he had to plan his unplanned days, but he made it work.
So that entire morning he was pretty happy. He woke up late, ordered breakfast to his room, even thought it was already past noon, and gamed with his friends for a couple of hours. Jeongin had texted him the night before about going out to shop with some of the other members and Felix was considering saying yes. His manager had texted him about how the groupâs pre-recording might be postponed and he didnât need to know why to feel happy about it. That way he could go shopping and have dinner out before his flight. Wonderful news.
Felix took a long shower before packing his bags, he was wearing something that made him feel comfortable but was also good enough if he needed to go to the airport straight away. If he didnât need to go back to the hotel to change, it meant another half an hour of hanging out with his friends.
When Hyunjinâs text came through, he expected it would be the location of where theyâd be going, knowing his friend might have left hours early to explore, as he usually liked to do. But, weirdly enough, Hyunjin was asking about Felixâs itinerary for later in the day.
And that was weird because, contrary to Felix, Hyunjin was really bad at keeping track of time. So why would he even care about Felixâs schedule when he could barely keep up with his own? And thatâs exactly what he replied, making fun of his friend instead of giving him a straight answer.
Because Felix was also pretty good at lifting his memberâs moods, keeping the atmosphere warm, and he knew which buttons to press with each one. Heâd double down on the skinship with Jisung, flirt with Changbin, tease Hyunjin.
Minho might need to fly out with you, is the reply he got, and that was not how it usually went. Usually Hyunjin would whine, heâd ask the same question again, heâd curse at Felix maybe a couple of times before theyâd actually get to the point. But before Felix could adjust, he got a call from his manager, and the situation was laid out for him.
So you were at the hospital. Hyunjin was on the way to let Minho know. A flight had been booked but they couldnât get any extra seats, so it would just be Felix and his - probably - freaked out hyung. Heâd have time to go to the hospital with Minho, but should probably keep his later schedule, as he was the ambassador for the brand and the company didnât want to risk people knowing what was happening yet.
Felix looked at the clock, he had enough time to go into Minhoâs room and pack his things. Maybe even enough time to stop by Changbinâs room to help relay the information.
So he sprinted into action and, by the time the car had to leave for the airport, all bags were packed, all members informed, and Felix had adjusted his mindset to face whatever mood he found Minho in.
And good thing that he did, as he had never seen Minho act like that. Everything had to be said twice for him to understand, Felix all but dragged him along through the airport, carrying both their bags and all of Minhoâs documents. He felt a deep relief when they finally made it to their seats, side by side. Felix had figured that this time there were no buttons he could press to lift his hyungâs mood.
So Felix offered his hand, and Minho took it. And they sat like that for the few hours spent above the clouds.
Felix was pretty good at keeping track of time, so it shouldnât have surprised him when the stuarts announced they were about to land. Minhoâs hand had long ago gone clammy, but his fingers kept their cool. Felix never let go. They were allowed out of the plane first, one of those small perks of traveling under their companyâs name. As they walked out, still hand in hand, Felix sees Minho fish his phone out of his pocket. And he sees how his friend hesitates.
Because they were unreachable for a few hours, and if even Felix had lost track of time by thinking of what could be happening to you, he couldnât even fathom the places Minhoâs mind had wondered to. So he untangled their fingers for the sake of taking the otherâs phone.
Felix switches it on and waits while it loads. A manager appears and signals where they should go. They walk out of the airport unnoticed while all Felix feels is the vibrations of Minhoâs phone. They havenât looked yet.
When theyâre finally safe inside the car, he hands the device back to Minho who, after one singular long breath in, unlocks it.
There are too many missed calls, too many messages. Felix notices how Minho freezes, so he takes the phone again and finds Mrs. Leeâs contact.
The messages were straight to the point, what was happening, where Minho should go to. The messages were also reassuring. Y/n is awake. It will all be alright. Iâll be with her the entire time. Everything youâd expect out of the woman that raised Minho, practicality mixed with love. He read everything out lout to his hyung, while also checking the carâs GPS, making mental calculations of how soon they could be at the hospital, how long since the updates had stopped coming.
The last message was a video. He pressed play but turned the screen to Minho straight away.
The man was so quiet Felix doubted he was breathing at all.
When Minho gasped, Felix knew for sure he had not been breathing. Minho pressed play on the video again, and this time Felix leaned in to watch it with him.
It was you on the hospital bed. Face puffy and hair up. You were wearing the typical hospital blue scrubs, your bump pressing against the fabric. Your right hand and arm were bandaged and there was a small cut on the top of your cheek, but you were smiling nonetheless.
âHey, I know this is a bit scary but weâre okayâ, you started, looking straight at the camera, âBun just couldnât stay away from dad any longer and had to drag you back in a rushâ.
You turned your attention to someone behind the camera, the video tilting as Minhoâs mum mumbled something to whoever was interrupting the two of you. Felix sees you nod decisively before the angle is readjusted and youâre back in focus.
âIâll see you soon, okay?â, and you looked and sounded tired, but there was no space for doubt in the way you held yourself, your hand going over your belly protectively, as if to make a point, âwe both willâ.
The video ended, only for Minho to press play again, but by then they were only three minutes away from the hospital, and Felix knew that by the time the video ended again they would have arrived.
And Felix had always been good at keeping track of time, so it only took them a couple of minutes between parking and getting in, maybe another minute or so waiting for the elevator. It took them exactly four minutes to go over their details at the reception desk, and Felix took the lead as Minho anxiously switched his weight from one feet to the other beside him. But as they were allowed into the waiting hall, it only took Minho twenty seconds to be engulfed by his parentâs arms.
Felixâs eyes found Bora, sitting quietly at a corner, and he went to her. Minho needed time with his mom and the girl was not looking too good.
âYou look like shitâ, he says, as he takes the space besides her, and she chuckles humorlessly.
âDonât you have a supermodel thing to be at?â, was her retort, because Felix knew what buttons to push to lighten the load, and Bora looked like she needed a little normalcy - and maybe someone to serve as a punching bag.
âI donât think theyâre up to date with the latest trendsâ, he keeps his voice higher than usual, light, airy, a bit sarcastic even. But he extends his hand again, and Bora takes it, âIâve been told hospital fashion is all the rave nowâ.
Bora squeezes his hand and sheâs about to say something back when the doctor walks in.
Felix might be good at warming the mood. And he might be pretty good at keeping time. But when it came down to that moment, everything felt cold and still.
â
Mrs. Lee had always wanted to be a mom.
She was lucky with Minho, he came to her quickly after her marriage. He was an easy pregnancy and an even easier baby. She was not blessed with more kids of her own, but that never really bothered her. She had all she needed in her cheeky smiley boy.
When she met you though, she felt as if you were meant to be hers too.
Minho had always made friends easy, he didnât care much about what other people thought of him and that, somehow, worked. Every now and then heâd mention a friend he was a little closer with, but the day he came home after first meeting you was different.
Mrs. Lee knew her son very well. He was competitive but kind hearted. So when all he could talk about during dinner was this new girl at his dance academy, who had just started but was clearly one of the best in class, she knew heâd either find himself an enemy or a friend for life. Lucky for her, he chose the latter.
When she had first met you, you were a shy little thing. But then she heard you and Minho bickering from the other room and she knew you had some heat to you. You won over her husband quickly as well, and soon the warning heâd give Minho when their son was going out started to include a âand make sure to look after y/nâ.
Mrs. Lee had always wanted to be a mom, and maybe thatâs the reason she found it so easy to spot the unwilling mothers around her. Your own mom was not a bad person, she was just someone who got caught in a life she never envisioned for herself. So as soon as you were old enough to look after yourself, she felt like her job was done. And Mrs. Lee tried not to judge her for that, but every night you came to her home toeing behind Minho, sheâd wordlessly add another plate for you, and couldnât help but wonder who would not want such a sweet kid around?
When she got the first call from Bora, she was about to put the bread in the oven. You had mentioned youâve been craving it a few days back and she had just found the time to bake some for you. Her husband had helped with shaping the little buns, and they had even joked around the little nickname Minho had given to their granddaughter.
They had to call a neighbor to check if they remembered to turn off the stove. Traffic was not too bad and Mr. Lee was a good driver, but the few minutes spent driving to the hospital felt like the longest of her life.
She was a practical woman, she had all your medical information on hand, she had texted Minho as much as she felt appropriate, walking the line of offering all the information available to her but also nothing that could make him panic. She knew how he felt about being away, her heart hurt for him.
By the time she was allowed into your room, hand in hand with Bora, you were awake and under medication that made the pain bearable. She had wiped all of her worried tears away and was completely focused and helping you not to freak out.
The information went over your head, but not hers. You knew youâd have to go for a cesarian, you knew you had been in active labor for a few hours - Braxton Hicks masking when the real thing had started. But you were yet to have your water break and although the babyâs heartbeat was still strong, it was also too fast - which meant that she was in distress. Hence the emergency cesarian, that you were now being prepped to endure. That last part you were having trouble comprehending and Mrs Lee could not bring herself to point out how serious the situation could turn.
So she helped you record a video to send her son, some reassurance she knew heâd need. She helped you walk around and held your hand when you were in pain. When it was time to go in for the surgery sheâd thought sheâd be able to go in, and was devastated when the doctor told her she couldnât, not this time. You had looked at her with your big eyes for a second, scared. So so so scared. Like she hadnât seen it since you were a kid, afraid of heights just like her own child.
But you masked it immediately. She couldnât even comfort you before you were the one comforting her.
âIt will be fineâ, you squeezed her hand, âweâll be right backâ.
And of course you would, you had to.
For her sake, for her husbandâs sake, for her sonâs sake.
The waiting room is quiet, the hospital mostly empty. She hears the minute Minho steps in, the way his feet hit the ground, closer to a run than a walk, reminds her of when he got home from school excited to see what she was cooking.
Mrs. Lee stands up and opens her arms, her husband following suit. Minho crashes into them as he hadnât in years. Suddenly she had her little boy in her arms, like she would whenever he had a bad dream as a kid, too scared of the dark to be alone in his room. Or scraped his knees on the playground, wanting to play hard with the bigger kids. Or when he was left out of the best part of the choreography for a dance competition he really wanted to be included in. She was holding together all the versions of him she raised.
Mr. Lee also had his arms around them, holding each other so tight. Still it felt too loose. There was space for more there. For the little girl alone inside, scared and hurt. For the little joy she was busy bringing into the world.
Minho did not cry. He rarely did. But she could tell his breathing was labored, he was on the verge of breaking down, so she held him even closer, making sure to keep all his pieces in place. It was all she could do.
She had no idea of how long they were standing there, holding each other. But then the doctor came, a tired look on her face, indecipherable on what it could mean. Her boy stepped away, turned to the doctor, mouth half open. She knew that expression, he was trying to find where to begin his questioning. He didnât need to.
âCongrats, dadâ, the woman says before any suspense can build, taking them out of their misery.
And Mrs. Lee had always wanted to be a mom, but she might be even more excited about being a grandma.
> a/n | guys weâre reaching final stretch territory 𫣠howâs everyone feeling about it?? This is the beginning of the final chapter of my original planned chapters hehe As always, thanks for reading, see you sooooon
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, drinking, MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
> A/N |Â the intermissions were supposed to be short little things but I got carried away with this one lol
14. intermission. autumn
If someone had told Minho a year ago that heâd have you crying on the way home, heart aching over the idea of being apart for a couple of weeks, he wouldâve laughed at their faces - and then proceed to call you and tell you all about it.
But as it was, he was still recuperating from the sight of your tears as you hugged him goodbye when his phone rang.
y/n is calling you on facetimeâŠ
âDid I forget something in the car?â, he picks up straight away, at the cue to check in his bags, you could spot a well known manager just behind him on your screen.
âI miss youâ
âYou literally just dropped me offâ, he knows you canât see his mouth behind the mask heâs wearing, but he smirks anyway, a reflex in trying to lighten your mood.
âI knowâ, you pout, he melts.
âOh baby, Iâll be back very soonâ, he tries, but you keep staring at him, not sure of what to say next, so he goes on, âlet me speak to Bunâ
Your pout intensifies but you lower your phone so that itâs level to your bump.
âHey Bun, itâs dadâ, Minho starts, and your pout fights to stay a pout and not turn into a smile, âyou have to be good to your mom now, Iâll be back very soon to take care of you two and Iâll miss you a lot, but donât go dancing too hard while Iâm away, okay? You have to take care or her for me.â
He had to bring the phone closer to his face, trying to avoid the people around him, but somewhere to his left he can hear Hyunjin already teasing him - even if he canât really make out the words, too focused on delivering his speech to Bun. To you.
He turns to curse Hyunjin off but ends up not paying attention to his other side, where Felix now leans in, peaking at the screen.
âHi noona!â
âHi Lixâ
âGo away, let me say goodbyeâ, Minho tries shoving him away, truly annoyed at the double attack.
âNo wait wait, let me talk to Yongbokâ, your voice comes to his rescue and Minho rolls his eyes but gives in as the younger boy perches on his shoulder to stay on camera, âdonât let him overdo himself, please?â
âYou got it, noonaâ, Felix winks and Minho can feel his ears starting to burn.
âI donât need a babysitterâ, he murmurs.
âNeither do I and still youâre asking Bun to look after meâ, you tease, but his ears grow redder and he drops the teasing tone.
Because you called her Bun. And the words stumble out before he can stop them.
âYou called her Bunâ
âIf you canât fight themâŠâ you smile at him and he wants to say so much more, but then thereâs a manager waving him in and he know heâs about to be surrounded by photographers and fans alike, and itâs far from ideal for you to still be at his screen.
So as much as it pains him, he says a final goodbye, jots down a mental note to bring back the nickname talk with you later and forces himself to face the airport run he has to go through. Part of the job, they say.
As they board the plane, Minho has grown quiet.
The other members donât pay it much attention, getting used to the way his moods change quickly lately. Seungmin has made it a habit to tease him by saying it looked like Minho was the one with the crazy pregnancy hormones, given his emotional ups and downs.
Chan and, surprisingly, Hyunjin, had been quiet supporters - to balance out Changbinâs loudness. Theyâd give him pats on the back whenever they could tell their dance leader started to feel overwhelmed, and were always there to serve as buffers with the company whenever they got dragged into another PR meeting.
This time, however, the one to pull him out of his thoughts was Jeongin.
Their seats were side by side and, although Minhoâs ticket said he had the window, the maknae traded with him without a single word exchange. It was a quick flight, in a mere few hours theyâd be thrown into promotions again, where he knew heâd have to lead a lot, being one of the member who could better speak the language.
Theyâd have a few performances, multiple interviews and recordings, a few brand and magazine photoshoots and rehearsals, on top of everything, to prepare for an upcoming award show. It would be an intense few weeks with a lot to think about, but Minho could not bring himself to worry about any of that, the old fear of being away from you creeping back in.
âYa, hyung, have you played this one?â Jeongin nudges him, turning the Nintendo screen his way. It looked like a silly two player game, and the invitation was implied.
Minho considers it for a moment, before accepting the other controller and helping the younger member balance out the screen on the fold out table.
They play round after round for half the plane ride, before Minho even realizes that time has slipped his mind. The distraction working.
âIâm tired of winningâ, Minho teases, a carefree smile slipping out.
âWhoâs even keeping track?â Jeongin puffs, and Minho ruffles the boyâs hair instead of replying, handing back his controller. Truth be told, he was probably losing, but knew his friend would not correct him.
They fall silent for a beat while Jeongin puts away the gaming device. Minhoâs mind starts drifting again.
Heâd be back in three weeks.
That gives him a month before your due date.
A month to talk things through, like adults.
Adults who will be raising a child together, somehow.
And if at first he was scared, now he was terrified. It felt like the roles had switched. The more you knew and prepared, the calmer you felt. He would marvel at how unbothered you were about most of the stuff the doctor threw at you. Yeah, you had some trouble with the resting part. Also with the food-cooking-eating-healthy part. But everything else you took in stride. You attended birthing classes with his mom, with Bora, even with your work friend that one time. You washed every new piece of clothing that Bun was gifted, putting them alway neatly on the nursery. You seemed ready, completely on top of everything regarding the babyâs arrival.
Minho, on the other hand, felt like a mess. If at first he was confident he could handle everything, the more he knew, the scarier it felt.
He didnât want to get stuff for the dorm, as he preferred Bun to have a single room with everything she deserved. He expected to spend most of his time at your place anyway, with half of his own clothing already being there. But you never talked about it. What if you wanted some privacy every now and then? What if he had to take Bun overnight? Another mental note, another conversation to be had.
Minho knew he had his break coming up, and the company gave him a couple of months of paternity leave on top of that, but itâs not like it felt like enough. He had to travel so much, would he be able to come back as frequently as he liked? Would you be able to travel with him? Would you want to? You would have more time off work, of course, but Bun would be so small, he had no idea when it would be safe for her to hop on a plane like he constantly did so casually.
His heart had picked up its pace inside his chest, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts in quick succession.
âHave you watched this one?â Jeongin was the one to pull him out of his thoughts again, pointing to an american film on the screen that Minho had indeed watched before. He hums his acknowledgement but the boy pokes further, âbut is it any good?â
âItâs kind of sadâ Minho relents.
âOk, donât want thatâ, the younger clicks away to keep scrolling through his options.
The silence starts to set again, Minho is about to dive deeper into his worries one more time when Jeongin exhales loudly, pulling his attention once more.
âYou know it will all work out, right?â Jeongin starts, not turning to make eye contact.
âWhat do you mean?â is Minhoâs reply, genuinely confused.
âI can hear you overthinking, hyungâ, he finally turns his body towards Minho, as much as the plane seat would allow him, âyou have this look when youâre thinking about noonaâ
Minho just gapes, unaware of said look, âno I donâtâ
âYeah you do, and you look stupidâ, that earns him a half hearted punch to his stomach, âoof, ok, I deserved that one, but itâs still trueâ.
Minho knows that his friend is giving him an opening to talk about it. Talk about his feelings. But he canât even find a starting point, with the snowball of all the worries heâs been keeping in rapidly becoming an avalanche.
âItâs stupid because itâs pointlessâ, Jeongin starts again, âeverything will work out because you love her, so whatever it is you think you have to do, as long as you have her, youâll be okayâ.
The words echoes.
You love her.
You love her.
He loves her.
And of course he knew that. He has loved you for most of his life. As a best friend, as someone who was always just there. As someone he couldnât imagine his life without.
But over the past year things had been changing. He would notice you first whenever he walked into a room. If your name popped up on his phone, heâd always make time to reply. He would call you over everything and over nothing special, and feel giddy every time you answered - and you always did.
And as he thought about it, it had started before this whole thing. Before Bun. Before they had started sleeping together, even.
He got that vacant look on his face again and Jeongin gives up, putting in earphones and turning forward again, if his hyung wanted to be stubborn and overthink, that was no longer his problem.
Meanwhile, Minho was trying to pinpoint when it had started. That feeling. When did the switch took place?
His birthday last year.
You came early to help him set up the drinks, they were expecting more people than usual at the dorms, Chan would barbecue, a few of his old school friends would come too, even Bora was in town. You were bickering with Jisung over how much alcohol should a dose have, the younger insisting you were putting too little alcohol, and you insisting he was not good enough with alcohol to need any more.
Eventually Jisung won the argument and you made his drink a little stronger but, as the boy turned Minhoâs way to celebrate his victory, a clear intention to annoy you further, the older noticed as you sneakily switched his drink for yours - the same one but with the original amount of alcohol. You see that Minho notices and wink. You wink. Later in the evening, when Jisung is indeed drunker than he should be, even with the lighter doses youâve been giving him, Minho sends you a quiet thought of gratefulness over your care for his younger member.
And keeps thinking about that wink.
No, it was on your birthday, the year before that.
Stray Kids were somewhere in Latin America, the names of the cities blurring together as they came one after the other, too close together to memorize for longer than when they had to scream said names on stage. You, however, had booked a vacation, a week off exploring the countryside near your hometown with a couple of friends you were not even that close with anymore. He knew Bora was away because she had called him ahead to warn that you would try to visit your mom, having heard that she took residency fairly near where you were born.
He had not been the best at texting back then, but he called on the day you were turning older to wish you his best, only for you to ignore his call. Which never happened. After a second try, a few hours later, and the call cutting short before it could ring for long enough, he got worried enough to reach Bora about it - who found herself in the same situation. She knew, however, the address of the place you were staying, and that gave Minho an idea.
You would never ignore him if he sent you food.
So he found a way to have a cake delivered, it should still be early enough so that you had not eaten dinner yet, so maybe that could be your desert. You didnât care much about your birthday, so if the friends you were with had not arranged for a cake, you wouldnât either. And well, if they had, there was no such thing as âtoo much cakeâ on your book and he knew that.
An hour later he got a text, âthey spelt my name wrongâ. And that was it.
He texted back a quick happy birthday but didnât try calling. Bora later filled him in, you had found your momâs address but she was not home, the neighbors refusing to give you any extra information about her when you asked. When you got back to the place you had rented, your old friends had invited some guys they met the night before at the local pub, and were enjoying the pool and the attention, while all you wanted was the quiet and comfort of old friendships. So you stayed in and wallowed, ignoring everyone.
The cake was what dragged you out of bed, to answer the door. And then you had some sugar, and the group staying with you sang you happy birthday and convinced you to go out for drinks again - to celebrate. And you actually ended up having a good time. Good enough to share a few photos on social media, the first being of the misspelled cake. The caption read âto be known and to grow oldâ.
Maybe, actually, it was that one time you met by chance at a cafe, two? Three years before?
It was a good day. A sunny autumn morning. The weather outside felt crisp. The leaves were blowing away creating paintings of orange and yellow in the sky. The most recent comeback season went smoothly with a song well received and promotions that ended with no one getting hurt. He now had a few days off from work and was moving into the new dorms, less crowded, better equipped.
He was feeling coffee. He brought his camera with him. An excuse to get to know the neighborhood.
It was the middle of the week, most places were empty, it was quite literally his ideal situation.
And then he bumped into you, and it became a perfect situation.
You took the day to work âfrom homeâ, which meant working from a cafe, also feeling like the perfect weather deserved it. Thatâs where he found you, already two coffees down, ready for any excuse to drop your assignments and consider your work day finished. So when Minho walks in and spots you, he orders two more lattes and a sweet treat âfor himâ - that youâd probably end up munching at least half of. And he takes a seat across from you, sliding the coffee next to your laptop, not disturbing your typing.
You look up, manage to mask your surprise at the sigh of the man, sips the new coffee, hums happily and pretends to work for the next 20 minutes, while quietly stealing bites off his pastry.
Minho watches you work, takes a few pictures of the cafe, the drinks, the plants decorating the window sill, you. He is patient but finds it hard to stay still. Heâs about to finally say something when you shut your laptop.
So he starts talking, over nothing, mostly. The TV Show heâs been watching, how the move with Jisung played out, his next travel plans, the new manager his team got. You shared office gossip, complained about an ex you bumped into, share ideas for what he could do with his new room, pondered over if you should renew the lease for your own apartment or not.
Minho suggests you go for a walk, you show him a few places youâre familiar with in the neighborhood, you make plans to visit an art gallery that opened recently, he makes you take a detour into a park so he can photograph the changing trees and that ends up turning into a little playful photoshoot between the two of you. You take a few good photos of him, making him promise to post them lately, to prove to him that you are a good photographer. He retorts saying that Stay will say that any photo with his face looks nice, so it doesnât really count. Minho than threatens posting a picture of you he had taken, to which you use the same logic: Stays will find good any picture he takes if they knew he was behind the camera.
And itâs not as if could post anything that had your face in it, but when he arrives home, later that day, and is looking through the photos, actually selecting some to share with his fans, he finds a sequence of photos you had accidentally snapped. You had tried setting the timer for the camera, to snap something of the two of you together. Instead you set the camera to keep snapping sequential photos. There were about 10 of them, most capturing just your hands and then your back, as you turn to run towards him after thinking thereâs a timer counting.
But the very last is of you reaching him, one of his arms extended, expecting you to find your place by his side, his other hand is hidden inside his coat. Minho is smiling at you, caught right before the moment you made contact, eyebrows raised, expression open. He canât see your face, your hair and coat floating behind you, one of your arms also extended, just about to wrap it around his back on a future side hug for the picture. The park is empty and the floor is covered in leaves. The trees, however, are still full, a beautiful display of their autumnal colors.
There are no photos after that last, but he knows that you couldnât slow down on time, crashing to his side and sending you both to the floor, where you fell into a fit of giggles. And he laughed along, something reminiscent of days long gone, of childhood wonder and blind trust.
He didnât post that one, but he sent it to his parents. The next time Minho visited their home, the photo had been printed and was displayed on the living room, alongside other childhood photos of him - many that included you.
Thatâs when he first felt it. Over the next few years, whenever he saw that photo, his heart would do a little funny thing, beat a little out of sync. Heâd get this urge to talk to you. Put his arms around you and hear your laugh. He couldnât name it then, blaming it on the familiarity of a friend he knew for most of his life, someone he cared for and trusted. Someone that understood him.
But truth be told, he had other friends that knew him for just as long as you, some even longer. And no one else made him feel like that.
Because he loved you.
He loved you.
He loves you.
âI love herâ, he thinks out loud, just as Jeongin is finishing his film, having taken out the headphones to give his ears a break.
âReally, hyung?â he deadpans. Minho stares at him, as if remembering where he was, âyou literally just realized that, didnât you?â
Minho nods.
âOh my god I donât know how Jisung puts up with you twoâ, the maknae chooses to ignore Minhoâs bewilderment. Heâs absolutely not getting himself involved. Jeonginâs ears be damned, he puts his earphones back in and presses play on a different film, not bothering to choose too much this time.
Minho spends the rest of the flight - the rest of the week, truly - thinking about all the times he knew he loved you. About winks. About how it felt to know and to be known. About childlike smiles and autumn leaves.
> a/n | favorite comment I get from you guys is some variation of "oh so they really are that dumb" and I giggle to myself every time because yes, yes they are. As aways, thank you for reading <3
> taglist is open!
Hiii! This might sound a bit random, but I realized itâs been a while since you last posted and my empath side got a little worried âșïž hope youâre doing well!
PS: I absolutely love the series đ„č
hello!!!
I'm sorry to have worried you, and appreciate the care <3
The updates will come back now, I just accidentally took a little time off to spend time with my family - I live abroad and don't see them often hehe
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â smut, fingering, face riding, unprotected sex (don't do this!), pregnant sex (it leads to this!). MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
> A/N |Â Hi hi everyone! I didn't think I'd end up taking the week off but I'm on vacation visiting my family so I've been more offline lately, nothing to worry though, we're back with the regular updates :)
13. I don't know what that one is doing here
You are welcomed by so many boxes when you get home that you have to squeeze your way into through the front door.
Taking your shoes off is an increasingly harder task every day. So taking your shoes off while also keeping your balance and not dropping yet another box you picked up on your way in was proving a challenge you couldnât muster the patience for today.
So you give up.
You drop the box at your feet and slowly help yourself getting down alongside it. You sit down on the small step separating your entrance and your hallway and try to untangle the mess of laces on your boot - damn Minho insisting on tying them for you. The knot only grew tighter through the day and the strain on your back was too much for you to keep trying. You consider just cutting them loose, but the thought alone of having to get up again to fetch some scissors is enough to send another wave of pain up your spine.
While still fully dressed for the cold, in your long coat, scarf and boots, you lay on the floor and wallow in your misery.
Thatâs exactly where Minho finds you, almost a full hour later.
He tries not to panic when he opens the door and sees you lying on the floor, scrolling on your phone as if that was the most comfortable place to be in the whole world. As your eyes turn to him, the rage held in them is weirdly calming to him.
Minho was getting used to seeing you annoyed all the time, so once he scans your situation and finds the root of the problem, he quietly kneels down to help you out of your shoes.
âYou couldâve called me, you knowâ, he mumbles, not daring to look up at you, sensing your eyes shooting daggers at him as it was.
âIâm never wearing boots againâ, you accept his hand as your feet are finally free, and he helps you get back up.
âYou love boots,â he mumbles, more to himself than to you, as he holds the back of your coat so you could slid your arms out, âyou insisted on bootsâ.
âWell-â, you shove your scarf on his chest, as if heâs the reason for all your discomfort, ânext time donât let me, tell me Iâm wrong, I donât actually like boots!â
âSorry, I like being alive too muchâ, he jokes, and you huff, rage filling your eyes as you finally make your way into your apartment.
He follows you in and itâs not lost on you the little chuckle that escapes him, only enraging you further.
Minho picks up the box you left on your way in, heâs not even sure whatâs inside anymore. He stopped monitoring your expenses on his card a while ago, noticing a pattern where every time he said the wrong thing, even when he didnât even realize he did, a new baby purchase would be made. You were going full in on retail therapy and he couldnât say he was even mad about it. Specially when every time he dropped by your place you would gush over a new piece of tiny clothing or an extra soft plushie you got.
He had read about maternity brain, but it was a delightful surprise to learn that your type of forgetfulness usually included you forgetting you were annoyed with him.
And damn was it endearing to see how your eyes lit up whenever he came over with a purchase. He couldnât help himself, his ads were getting more and more specific every day and his impulse control was nowhere in sight. At first you tried to stop him; but when you did, he just got more and more creative on how to spoil his baby girl, asking for the help of his family and friends to gift you stuff he had actually bought himself. So you also gave up on that.
Youâre rummaging through your fridge, trying to gather what could be turned into a quick and easy meal. Your back was killing you and the thought of having to stand in front of the stove for longer than 5 minutes felt draining. You could ask Minho to cook, but then heâd want to make something that was good for the baby, and you were craving something oily and yummy, youâve been good for the baby all week, you earned it - even if you knew that meant a whole night of tossing and turning as your girl was usually more active whenever you ate out of your diet plan.
The way you were standing mustâve alerted him of your discomfort, as Minho quietly stepped behind you, his arms coming to circle your waist.
âI saw a video onlineâ, he speaks into your ear, voice low and steady as if trying to not cut the wrong wire to defuse a bomb.
Before you could ask him about it, already frowning and ready to snap, he spread his palms on the very bottom of your belly and lifts it. The relief is so immediate your knees loose their strength.
âOh my godâ, a moan escapes your lips, as you find your balance again and fully lean into him, dropping your head back on his chest.
âIs it good?â, you can hear the teasing on his voice but you canât find it in you to feel annoyed, basking on the pressure finally being lifted off of your spine. So you hum in response, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to drown in the bliss of the feeling.
Now that the pain gave you a break, you manage to focus on the feeling of his fingers on your skin, his thumbs stoking your bump. You shut the fridgeâs door, eyes still closed, and press your hands to his arms, feeling the way his veins are popping out, the strain of holding you up in place. As much as you donât want to let go, youâve come to know that Minho will absolutely overextend himself for the sake of your comfort.
Youâve seen him lose more sleep than ever before, coming late from practice and leaving early for schedules - but always making sure to be there. You saw him go out of his way to satisfy some of your more insane cravings, even the ones he knew were not that good for you. You heard from the other boys how relentless he had been at the company, making sure all of the team was keeping on track with their scheduled rehearsals, not letting anyone step out and risk anything being pushed back. You have also been told how scary he had been a few times, when a higher-up tried to speak ill of you in any measure.
So even though you were as comfortable as you could be right that moment, his faint perfume hitting your nostrils, his breath at your neck, his arms around you holding the weight of the world on his hands, you knew it wouldnât be long before he started feeling strained.
âCan we order in?â, youâre still gathering your courage to move. Your head still pressed on his chest, eyes closed. You feel him nod and allow yourself a couple more seconds before patting his hands, urging him to let go.
As the weight of your belly falls upon you again you canât help but groan - in pain and frustration.
âCome hereâ, he nudges your waist, leading you towards the couch.
This was starting to become routine, heâd sit all the way back on the cushions and spread his legs so you could sit between them. And he would rub your back. The first few times youâd still try to joke around about how a massage was what got you in this situation. About him paying back for all the times you squeezed at the tension of his shoulders. About him trying to get on your good side again after pushing your buttons a little too hard.
But now it was just comfort. Just the feeling of his hands on your skin. The care he delivered on every point of pressure. More times than not, his hands would then travel to other regions. Your collarbones, your sore and sensitive breasts. And lower. And you would huff and complain, but also let escape these tiny moans, the sound of you letting go. You never denied him, not once.
Because over the past month he got used to you being constantly annoyed - and also constantly horny.
So heâd been helping out, on all the ways he could think of.
It was no supposed to happen again, really.
First it was that time you insisted on helping him into the shower, as he couldnât get the orthopedic boot wet. Then it was that time you had a dream and he just happened to be sleeping over. Then it was after that one maternity class you had with Bora accompanying you, trying to ease his guilt of not being able to be there with you. And only then did the massages really started.
And they didnât always lead to anything else. Most of the time it was plain chaste care. Some relief from the pain.
But then some daysâŠ
Some days were like this.
Youâd feel his hand on your thigh and spread your legs a little further. And heâd scoot his hand up.
Up.
Up.
And heâd tease you over your clothing.
Kiss your neck from behind.
Cup your breasts with his free hand.
And youâd reach back to feel him growing hard.
âIs this okay?â he whispers, as his fingers slide under the waist of your pants.
Heâs been checking every single time. Even if you never deny him. And you never talk about it after either. As if putting into words what youâve been doing makes it real, as if it disregards your previous agreement.
You hum your affirmation while his fingers reach the spot most sensitive to you.
His hardness is pressed against your back but you canât pay attention to him like that right now, too focused on your own pleasure. Youâre not usually selfish like that but you had spent an hour lying on the floor because of the boots he tightened. You deserved it.
He teases your entrance with his fingers slowly, circling aimlessly and driving you insane while at it. You squirm on his embrace but he only holds you in place, not allowing for you to move much.
Once his fingers finally slide in, an unguarded moan escapes you, gives away how needy you felt.
Itâs like it awakens something in him, his movements grow more purposeful, his mouth attach to you, leaving little bites on your neck and shoulders. When you start to feel the edge approaching, he stops/
âSit on my faceâ, he says, while already pulling his fingers away and scooting around you.
âMinho, noâ, you start. Whine, really. âIâm hugeâ
âYouâre perfectâ, is what he says, kneeling in front of you and grabbing the sides of your shirt, lifting it up. You allow it with no resistance and he puts his hands on your now naked waist. âWill be even prettier sitting on my faceâ
His expression is so sincere you canât make yourself deny him.
So you allow him to help you stand up. He finishes undressing you while remaining fully clothed, but youâre too worried feeling self conscious to complain about that.
Minho positions you on all fours, scooting under you and helping your waist down, reattaching himself to you without warning.
You grab onto the side of the sofa, annoyed that you canât see that much of him but lost in the feelings heâs dragging out. He caresses your thighs and plants kisses around your sensitive spots, mixing direct attacks to your pleasure to teasing licks that lead nowhere.
Thereâs no way you could drag it much longer but, as you feel one of his fingers slide in as well, with his tongue still busy at your clit, you come undone. You lean your weigh forward, escaping contact with his mouth, and canât hear what he says over the buzzing on your ears.
Youâre still coming down from your orgasm when you feel him sliding away from under you.
âDonâtâ, is all you have to say before he is kissing your back and neck again, the mere seconds of distance feeling like too much right now.
âWhat do you want, baby?â, he asks, while kissing your shoulder blades.
âYouâ, is your reply, âinside meâ.
You hear him unzip his pants, waiting for you to finish grasping your breath before sliding in.
The stretch doesnât feel like much over how wet you were, but it hits a spot inside that makes you arch your back to give him more access.
His rhythm starts slow but picks up to keep up with your increasing moans, all decorum long forgotten. His own sounds join in as he too approaches his release.
All it takes is for you to reach back and signal for him to get closer. You feel the fabric of his shirt connecting to your back and grabs onto the back of his head with one hand, his lips finding your neck again. You tug on his hair and he holds onto you so tight it makes you think you could merge together.
With a final groan you feel him spill inside you, and he stays there while bringing one of his hands down to find your clit again, taking only a few circles to help you melt again, a surprise gasp with the new sudden build up.
The two of you stay connected, enjoying each otherâs warmth on the aftereffects of pleasure.
You eventually feel him slid out of you, your body reacting with a little shiver at the sensation, the overstimulation getting the best of you. Minho reaches down to place a few kisses on your spine, all the way up to your neck before he says anything.
âIâm gonna order some foodâ, your head turns only just slightly and he drops a final kiss on your cheek while youâre still catching your breath, chest working itself into overdrive, too overwhelmed to try and give him a response.
So you stay like that, forehead resting on the side of the couch, knees bent underneath you for long enough that, when you decide itâs time to move, you feel your legs tingling. You groan and immediately Minho is by your side again. You take account of his hair, a much bigger mess than you gave yourself credit. Even if he kept his clothes on, Minho still looked completely fucked out.
He helps you straighten yourself up and guides you to the bathroom, where you realize he had filled the bathtub. He helps you step in and lower yourself to the perfectly warm water.
Minho steps out again, and you can hear him shuffling stuff around outside but canât be bothered to try and decipher what heâs doing, instead choosing to appreciate how good you were feeling. You were almost drifting off when he steps in again.
He lowers himself to the side of the tub, sitting on the edge, you lift your arm to catch his hand, and holds it in place, the soft moment extending between the two of you.
âFood is almost here, want help getting out?â his voice is quiet, almost scared to break the silence.
And so he helps you up. Helps you dry yourself. Grabs you your pajamas e puts cozy socks on your feet.
Before you feel like your appreciation for him couldnât grow any larger, you smell burgers and fries on your way to the kitchen, making you turn to him in gleeful surprise.
He rolls his eyes seeing your excitement, âyeah, yeah, donât get used to itâ
You squeal, grabbing a few fries and shoving them in your mouth. Your moan is almost as pornographic as the ones that escaped you on your earlier activities.
âI really needed thisâ, you point to your burger.
âDonât wake me up in the middle of the night when you canât fall asleepâ, he says, matter of factly.
âI wonâtâ, but itâs an empty promise, you know you probably will. Just like you know that, when you do, he will grunt but wake up nonetheless, keeping you company when your baby is too restless to let you fall back to sleep. So heâll sing to your belly, and comb your hair, and mutter nonsense until you finally drift off.
And you know itâs getting harder and harder to deny that you are completely and utterly in love with him.
You keep your feelings at bay, try to not overthink them.
But every time he does this. All this. It is a reminder that you will never find another person like him - or worse, that youâre not sure you would ever want to try to.
âIâm thinking about building some of the stuff tomorrowâ, his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
âOh? I was looking into hiring a crew to assemble everythingâ
âYou think I canât do it?â he lifts a single eyebrow.
âIâm suuuuure you can-â you drag out the words mockingly, âwith my help.â
You wait for him to protest but when he just keeps staring at you with a blank expression you relent.
âAnd I canât really help you right nowâ
âWasnât expecting you toâ
âSoooo we should call a crew,â you insist.
âI already called a crew,â thereâs no change in his demeanor, but the little twinkle in his eyes gives away that thereâs something else to the statement. You open your mouth to ask about it, fearing the worst, but he takes the moment to shove more fries in your mouth, âand eat your food before it goes coldâ.
â
You wake up to the sounds of banging and voices hushing each other.
The light is starting to shine through the little slit of the curtains you left open, and you grab your phone to see that itâs not even 9AM yet. Both you and Minho were usually morning people, but lately youâve been enjoying the days you can stay in bed until late. The days he can do the same with you are so rare you were not expecting him to be up already either, but alas, you were wrong.
As another loud crash comes from outside, you figure itâs best to go check on him, assuming the crew to build the baby furniture mustâve arrived. And you make a mental note to scold the babyâs father about maybe not scheduling stuff that early on a Saturday.
When you step out of your bedroom, face washed and a robe over your pajamas, you are greeted by half of Stray Kids in various states of disarray around your living room.
âUh, good morning?â you greet them.
âOh thank god, can I make some coffee now?â Hyunjin drops a screwdriver and stands up, immediately going to your kitchen and opening the cupboards as if he had always lived here.
âYah careful with thatâ, Minho goes after him, making sure his younger member handles your espresso machine with care. To be fair, that machine had always been more Minhoâs then yours anyway, him being half the reason you even got it.
âGood morning noonaâ, Changbin seemed to be the only one in a good mood, sitting on the couch and sipping on a take away cup you could bet held an americano inside.
âSorry if we woke youâ, the final noise perpetrator, Chan, is sitting on the floor across from where Hyunjin was, still holding a wood board up in place.
âSo you are the assembling crew?â you ask, loud enough so Minho could hear it too, as he makes his way back, handing you a cup of tea while having a fresh brewed coffee on his other hand. Hyunjin follows, dropping back in front of Chan and putting his own drink aside on the coffee table, conveniently pushed a little out of the way to allow them to work.
âI called those twoâ, Minho points to the duo, âI donât know what that one is doing hereâ
Changbin raises his cup your way as if giving a toast.
âHe likes to see me workâ, Hyunjin adds, keeping his attention on his task while also holding a spare screw on the corner of his lips.
âDid you really have to start so early though?â you sip on your tea, the warmth bringing enough comfort to almost make you forget you could still be in bed.
âI asked the same thing!â Chanâs voice pitched higher as he eyes Minho, who was just standing there watching them work as well.
âEh, worked fine by meâ, Changbin interferes, ignoring the murderous looks from the boys sitting in front of him.
Sensing he would just make the project take longer, you mouth to Minho âyou owe meâ before going over to Changbin and tapping him on the shoulder, âcome on, big boy, help me get some breakfast ready for you lotâ
By the time you and Changbin managed to assemble enough food to feed the group - small but avid eaters as they were -, they were pretty much done with the first piece of furniture. As you went back to force a break on them, you were met with a changing table in dark wood that you were hoping would match the bassinet. Minho was making Hyunjin sit on top of it before deeming it safe enough to bring to the room that would hold the nursery.
While you ate in the casual comfort, you learned how the little group came to be. Chan had offered his help, having heard Minho talk about your apartment being overthrown with boxes overnight. Hyunjin had not offered his help, but everyone knew he was the best at assembling furniture and all things handcrafted. So Minho told him you had asked for his help, and he could not say no to you, so he came. It took him a good hour after he arrived to figure out that you had nothing to do with him having to wake up way too early on a day off. Changbin, true to his statement, came on a whim. He was coming back from an early morning workout session when Hyunjin was getting ready to leave, and when he heard about what took his housemate out of bed so early, he just figured he could tag along and earn some extra favorite-uncle points.
âIâll give you all Jisungâs uncle points if you manage to take y/n out of the house todayâ, Minho whispers to Changbin once youâre busy taking the empty dishes to the kitchen with Chan.
âAnd how am I supposed to do that?â
âI donât know, make something up!â
You walk back and as if on cue all the boys stand up to start getting back to their work.
âWhat are your plans today, noona?â Changbin side eyes Minho, but youâre paying attention elsewhere, your focus having to be dragged out of the boxes still piled around.
âHuh?â you finally spot the one you were looking for and points it to Chan, who promptly goes to grab it.
âWhat are you doing all day?â Changbin repeats, more certain now, a plan forming.
âHelping you guys?â you look around the room to prove a point.
âWhy donât we go for a walk?â heâs so nonchalant about it you donât even think twice, âthe weather is pretty nice and the two of us will end up getting in the wayâ
You consider his offer.
âBin, itâs literally my houseâ, you search for Minhoâs eyes to see how he feels about it but he seemed to be avoiding you on purpose, âI think I should be here and help?â
âWhere is the instruction manual for this one?â Hyunjin asks and you notice you had been standing on top of it, meekly stepping aside so he could grab it.
âOn second thoughtâŠâ you make eye contact with Changbin, whoâs just grinning.
âPut on some warm clothesâ, Minho was still focused on separating the pieces needed for the next project but he directed the words at you, so you give his bum a little tap on your way back to your room to change.
You were not specially close with Changbin. Over the years he would sometimes join you and Minho eating out late if you were meeting your friend after a schedule, and the two of you bonded over a shared love in teasing Minho. But unlike some of the other members, you rarely were left to talk by yourselves. So it was at least a bit surprising when the whole afternoon flew by. What was supposed to be just a walk around a nearby park ended up turning into a lunch filled with âif you donât tell my PT I wonât say anything to Lino hyungâ, that turned into a ânoona look! it looks like Felix, we should get one for the baby!â, and also turned into a âcan you help me taking some photos for stay? my hair looks nice todayâ.
And before you knew it, the sun was starting to set on the horizon and you managed to spend the last how many hours in a carefree, content mood.
[5:31PM] lee minho (baby daddy): come expel them
[5:31PM] lee minho (baby daddy): they refuse to leave
You chuckle at the messages and show them to Changbin, signalling you should probably head back.
[5:34PM] y/n: weâll be there in 15
[5:34PM] y/n: please tell me my apartment survived
His lack of response shouldâve worried you but you forgot to press him as Changbin insisted in playing you some of the demos 3Racha had been working on for their special unit album. The least you could do was pay attention.
Before you knew it, the car was parked, the elevator called, the code punched in and your shoes were off, as you followed the sound of voices into your home - that now smelled like cleaning products and that one cotton scented candle Minho seems to like so much.
The door to the future-nursery was half open with the light on, but as you try to push the door you are met with some resistance and Chanâs voice
âWait-wait-not-yet-give-us-a-minute!â he sounds panicked, which only makes your fear for the state of the place to grow.
âNow I need to come inâ, you say, but you stop forcing the door, âplease guys, it canât be that badâ
You barely finish your sentence and Minho is flinging the door open. His once white shirt now has some paint stains over it, and he looks annoyed and tired and oh-
Oh.
Heâs nervous.
Itâs such a rare sight that you canât help but step closer, laser focus on him, hands going to cup his cheek.
âWe can redo it if you donât like itâ, he says, barely a whisper, and you allow yourself to peak behind him. Those walls were not that color a few hours ago.
He steps aside, bumping into Chan who bumps into Hyunjin, all three looking at you, expressions filled with expectations.
Itâs beautiful.
The walls were freshly painted a very light dirty pink. The few dark wood pieces you got were exactly where you had pictured them, and a few shelves you donât remember ordering were filled with photos and all sorts of stuffed animals youâve been randomly collecting over the past few months.
They had added the dark green bedding you had first gotten on the bassinet, and on top of it there was a very big Leebit plushie. You step forward and find yourself standing on a thick rug that perfectly matched the colors of the walls.
You turn in astonishment to the boys waiting by the door.
âWe still have to hang a few things but we didnât want to mess up the paintâ, Minho steps forward, pointing to the wall by the door, and Hyunjin lifts a couple framed images; on one hand the first sonogram of the baby, and on the other the first picture you and Minho ever took together as kids, both sitting on the floor of his parentâs living room, the day he brought Soonie home.
Youâre at a loss for words, so Minho keeps going.
âAnd I donât know if I got the right idea you hadâ, he steps in, vaguely gesturing to the rocking chair by the changing table, âbut we can move stuff around-â
You threw your arms over his shoulder, pulling him into you. His arms take no time circling your waist and you have to take a couple deep breaths to not start crying on his shoulder.
âOh thank god if I inhale any more paint fumes Iâll pass outâ, Chan says and you look over Minhoâs shoulder to see the older man smiling, his complains not really carrying any heat.
âYouâre weakâ, Hyunjin states, and gestures for Changbin to walk in to see their work as well.
They take their time showing you all the little details, all the care they put into it. Minho kept mostly quiet once the nervous energy he had been carrying dissipated.
He had not planned to go all out with the nursery, but once you were out of the house and the boys were already here, he suddenly found himself eager to get everything ready for you. The two of you had talked about where you thought most things should go, and he knew you were not too attached to any color scheme or style of decorations. You just wanted the place to feel cozy and safe for your little girl.
And Minho really wanted the pink walls and the pink chair and the pink rug.
As the afternoon progressed and the furniture started gaining shape, he could so easily picture you there. Sitting on the chair with the little baby in your arms, the light filtering through the curtains, your cheeks glowing pink like they did during the warmer months.
So he painted the walls.
Well, he helped paint the walls.
And his members tried not to tease him too much about it. Thank goodness Changbin was out.
He would undo everything, had you not liked it. But you rubbed your face on his neck and did that little breathing-hiccup thing you did whenever you were holding in your tears.
And although Minho was getting used to seeing you annoyed all the time, he also still knew how to make you smile.
â
The boys left soon after, leaving you and Minho alone to enjoy the quiet of the evening.
Both of you took a seat on the nursery, you at the rocking chair and him on the floor, back resting on the bassinet, feet spread forward on the rug.
âI canât believe you did this all todayâ, you marveled, hugging the big Leebit you had fished out of the crib close to your chest.
âIt was not too badâ, it was one of those rare moments where all his walls were down, you knew you could ask him anything and heâd be nothing but truthful, âthe guys helped a lotâ
âEven Changbin?â
âSpecially Changbinâ, he closed his eyes and allowed his head to dip back.
You observed him for a bit, considering if you should let him rest at last or take the opportunity to maybe go into a talk youâve been meaning to.
âThank youâ, is what you ended up settling on.
Minho opened only of his eyes to look at you, assessing if the moment granted a two-eyes-open situation, or if he could go back to resting his sight. He closed his eyes again.
âThank youâ, his soft voice a little above a whisper as he throws the words back to you.
âMinhoâ, you called him again, once you notice he would allow the silence to settle again.
âYes, Y/n?â he kept his eyes closed, but a little line appeared on his forehead.
âCan we talk?â
âIs it a baby-talk or an us-talk?â the crease above his eyebrows grew deeper.
âBoth?â because were not all us-talk also a baby-talk these days?
He fell silent again and you had to practice patience. You were never really good at that.
âWe leave for Japan in two daysâ, his reply finally comes, swerving the conversation to a different direction.
ââŠI know?â and you did know. You had known for a while about all of his schedules over the next two months, the final countdown for your due date.
âIâll be back in three weeksâ, he goes on, finally relenting and straightening his neck, opening his eyes to meet yours.
âI know that tooâ, and why were you nervous about where this was going?
âThat gives us a month before sheâs on this sideâ, his eyes drop to your bump, before going back to your face.
You wait for him to continue. He doesnât.
âYes, Iâm awareâ, you relent.
âSo we will talk thenâ, and he means it.
âMinho we canât keep postponing thisâ, you whine, extending your leg to gently kick his.
âWeâre notâ, he insists, âweâll figure us out before sheâs here, thatâs a promise.â
âIt better beâ, and you sound harsher that you meant to, so you take a deep breath before going on, âI donât want her to grow up like I did, Minâ
âSmart, pretty and headstrong?â he teases, but you just stare at him until he drops the cutesy act. He scoots closer to you, hand searching for yours, âshe wonât. She will have us, in whatever way, always looking after herâ.
Tears prickle behind your eyes, a mixture of relief and frustration. So you squeeze his hand back, and for now that will have to be enough.
You drop the subject. The talk will happen, and whatever it brings, living in this limbo with him for a couple more weeks doesnât sound too bad.
So he cooks and you pick a film. You sniff his neck once heâs out of the shower and that turns into him kissing yours. You stay up late, lost to touches and whispers. You wake up later than usual and go for a walk and an overpriced pastry. You visit his parents to play with the cats. When you drop him off at the dorms, the night before he has to leave, you say your goodbyes with a kiss.
Part of you is prepared that it could be the last. Part of you really hopes that it isnât.
> a/n | We're about 2/3 of the way done, in case anyone is wondering... This was originally where the fourth chapter ended and it was planned as the softer part of the entire fic, the calm before the storm, as they say? Nothing too bad is coming, this is supposed to be a comfort read, but anyway, you can't say I didn't give a heads up!! As always, thanks for reading, see you on the next one <3
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â this is all fluff lol. MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
12. the pudding magically appeared
[4:02PM] lee minho (baby daddy): so Iâm stuck in meetings all day
[4:02PM] lee minho (baby daddy): are you okay?
[4:08PM] y/n: that bad?
[4:08PM] y/n: Iâm fine, donât worry about me
[4:09PM] lee minho (baby daddy): I always worry about you
You read the text a few times before deciding on what to reply, the cold breeze while you waited for Jihye to pull up in front of your office making you shiver. Minhoâs bubble comes in before you can begin typing your own reply.
[4:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): I have to go back in
[4:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): Iâll text you when Iâm released
[4:12PM] y/n: you make it sound as if you were kidnapped
[4:13PM] lee minho (baby daddy): yes
As a car stops in front of you though, you are surprised to see someone else already on the passenger seat. You open the back door and, before putting on your seatbelt, lean into the driverâs seat to give a reassuring squeeze to Jihyeâs arm.
âHow are you feeling?â, your voice is soft.
âOverwhelmedâ, she admits, and you feel Seungminâs full attention on her, even if you canât see him, âhow are you feeling?â, she asks back.
âBetter than I thought Iâd beâ, and it is the truth.
âIâm not doing too bad either, thank you for askingâ, the boyâs voice at your other side makes itself known, but instead of giving him the attention he was clearly looking for, you just rolled your eyes and scooted back on your seat, allowing your friend to start the car.
[4:21PM] y/n: why is seungmin here?
[4:21PM] y/n: were you actually kidnapped?
[4:21PM] y/n: should IIIIII be worried?
Minhoâs reply never comes, but over coffee - for them, tea for you, doctorâs orders - you come to know a bit about how Stray Kidsâ day went.
âSo I guess weâre doing thisâ, Seungmin held Jihyeâs hand over the table, fingers intertwined.
âAnd Iâll never go online ever againâ, she adds, and you notice him gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.
So the plan was for them to go public, after all.
Nothing would come out about Minho or you or the baby though, at least not yet. Some of the staff already knew about your situation, but there had been no official communication coming from him to the company, which made things a bit trickier on his side. Seungmin came to the rescue, to most peopleâs surprise - but not yours.
He did owe Minho for that one scandal not that long ago after all.
âAre you sure youâre okay with this?â, you turn to Jihye, âit kind of looks like youâre getting the short end of the stick hereâ
She shrugged and leaned in a bit closer to her boyfriend.
âItâs alrightâ, she sips on her coffee and you join Seungmin in awaiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts, âitâs shitty that it went down like this, but at least I wonât have to hide all the time, no offenseâ
âNone taken, Iâm very much a fan of hidingâ, you smiled at her, âI donât want to get Minho into trouble any more than I already didâ
âFrom where I stand it seems like heâs the one that got you in troubleâ, Seungminâs eyes slid down to your bump, making it a point to stay there, really drilling the message in.
âKind of a two person jobâ, Jihye adds, a little humor creeping into her voice for the first time that day. You see Seungminâs gaze soften as he turns to her, carefully observing her gentleness towards you.
You allow them their moment before cutting in, âI feel like I need to say thank youâ
âYouâre welcomeâ Seungmin says at the same time as Jihye goes;
âYou really donâtâ
You bicker like this, back and forth with the younger member, trying to keep the mood light for the sake of your still shaken up friend.
The information Seungmin had so far is that they were releasing the statement regarding their relationship tomorrow, and the day after the comeback schedule would come out - that was being pulled forward almost two weeks to try and drown out any noise the controversy might have brought.
You thought it unusual, the company would normally push it farther down the line to allow for any trouble to die down on its own before comeback season rolled in, but you decided not to question it too much. After all, if the comeback happened a bit earlier, that meant that Minho would also get his time off a bit sooner, something you knew he was excited about. And you heard from Jisung before that 3Racha had been meaning to release something as well, so maybe that would give them the breather to do just that.
A blessing in disguise, you think to yourself.
Seungminâs building was close enough to Minhoâs place that it felt like less trouble asking for Jihye to drop you off there than making her go out of her way to take you home. You had texted Jisung earlier asking if he had any updates and all he said was that he had not heard from Minho for hours.
[6:33PM] y/n: I might ask Jihye to drop me at the dorms
[6:33PM] y/n: is that okay?
[6:35PM] jisungie: I think thatâs a good idea
Huh, the lack of teasing on his part was unusual.
[6:36PM] y/n: any news from Minho yet?
[6:36PM] jisungie: nope
[6:36PM] jisungie: but Iâll go home soon
[6:37PM] jisungie: what do you want to eat?
Even weirder. Jisung offering you food? The world really had tilted out of its axis today.
[6:38PM] y/n: youâre worrying me
[6:38PM] jisungie: Iâm being nice
[6:38PM] y/n: youâre never nice to me
[6:39PM] jisungie: Iâm always nice to you
[6:39PM] y/n: only when you want something
He takes longer to reply and by the time he does youâre already saying your goodbyes to Jihye and Seungmin.
[6:52PM] jisungie: I just want everyone to be happy
And it tugs at your heartstrings. You knew that Jisung was not good with conflict, the back to back meetings they all mustâve had during the entire day would not land lightly on his shoulders. You open the door to the dorms and take off your shoes as you ponder how to try and make this better, easier.
[6:59PM] y/n: can you bring me some pudding?
[7:01PM] jisungie: thatâs not really dinner
[7:01PM] y/n: the baby says itâs dinner
[7:01PM] jisungie: donât bring the baby into this
[7:01PM] y/n: pleeeeease
[7:02PM] y/n: minho would never let me have pudding for dinner
[7:02PM] y/n: it would make the baby SO happy
[7:03PM] jisungie: if hyung asks
[7:03PM] jisungie: the pudding magically appeared
[7:04PM] y/n: thankyouthankyouthankyou
[7:04PM] y/n: thatâs why youâre her favorite uncle
You were in the shower for a long time after that before you hear your phone buzz again. You step out with the water is still running to check if itâs Minho. You canât even let the disappointment settle as you read the texts.
[7:25PM] jisungie: no take backs
[7:25PM] jisungie: i mean it
[7:25PM] jisungie: i have bragging rights now
[7:25PM] jisungie: i got you like 4 different flavors
[7:26PM] jisungie: and now iâll pass out until tomorrow
[7:26PM] jisungie: knock on my door if you need anything
[7:26PM] jisungie: minho should be here soon
[7:26PM] jisungie: donât let Bun forget who got her those puddings
You smile fondly, not even bothering to correct him over the nickname like you usually would, a little lighter on your feet as you steal another of Minhoâs hoodies and some sweatpants. When you reach the kitchen, you find half the fridge stuffed with pudding.
You should be worried, you knew you should. But as you lay on the couch with your little sweet treat, knowing soon Minho would be home, you couldnât find any space to agonize about what the future held for you.
â
[8:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): escaped prison
[8:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): call soon?
You didnât bother with a reply and, when Minho walked in, you had already displaced of all evidence of your secret treat and ordered him some actual food. He stops as he notices you on his couch, curled up with a blanket, scrolling on your phone as if you had always belonged there. If heâs surprised he recovers quickly, coming over to press a firm but gentle kiss to your forehead before mumbling a âbe right backâ and walking towards his room, where you can hear the shower running.
He takes his time getting rid of all the stress of the day, so when he comes back to the living room his hair is damp, he smells fresh and looks way more relaxed than you anticipated him to be. You slide your body to the side, making space for him to snug with you on the couch. He canât be bothered getting under the blankets, but he spread one arm over you, bringing his face to your neck, where you pretend not to notice the way he take a deep breath in, the air tickling your skin.
âHow long did they keep you in there?â, you start brushing one of your hands through his hair, while the other kept on scrolling through the website you were currently browsing.
He lets out a non committal hmpf, while also tightening his hold on you.
âDid you even eat? Thereâs food in the kitchenâ
âThey got us pizza at some pointâ, he mumbles, still keeping his face pressed to you, making it a little harder for you to understand him perfectly.
âHealthyâ, and you try to keep the smile out of your voice, knowing how hypocritical it was to tease him, considering what you had for dinner.
âJisungie told me he got you puddingâ, as if reading your thoughts, he detaches from you if only slightly, eyeing you in mock annoyance.
You exaggerate a gasp and drop your phone for the sake of bringing a hand to your chest while not stopping the movement on Minhoâs scalp, âthe betrayal!â
As you feel him release his weigh on your shoulder once again you pick up your phone back, making it a point to show him how you were opening your texts with Jisung, âIâm revoking his favorite uncle rightsâ
âDonât worry, I already didâ, Minho closes his eyes to take in the moment.
It felt right, after the day he just had, to come home to you.
You were safe, not stressed, wearing his clothes and, he noticed, shopping for your baby. His baby. So all the long conversations he knew heâd have to breach with you felt obsolete. At some point he knew heâd had to talk schedules, NDAs, plans for the future and all the little things he spent all day trying to figure out and fighting for. It felt wrong to take so many decisions by himself, but there was no way he was letting you hear what was said about you for hours on end.
So, instead of dragging it any longer, Minho decided there was only one thing you needed to know straight away, everything else youâd figure out eventually as things progressed.
He watched as you kept scrolling through images of baby nurseries, clicking here and there to know more about a product, reading reviews, pinning your favorites.
âThey said I have to take a paternity testâ, he huffs out, and you canât help the laugh that bubbles out of you. He lifts his head again, accessing your reaction with an arched eyebrow.
âWay to ease into the subjectâ, you scold him, but thereâs no harshness to your words.
âYouâre not mad?â, he checks, still doubtful.
âI kind of expected itâ
He waits for you to continue.
âIâm surprised you didnât ask for one when I first told youâ, you admit, a long forgotten fear of yours.
He searches your face for a moment, looking for any hurt at the request.
âI trust youâ, and the finality of the statement catches you off guard.
âI knowâ, you press softly onto the side of his head, making him relax into you again, âbut itâs a logical thing to ask for, I guessâ
He hums against your skin again, his attention back on your scrolling as the two of you let the comfortable silence settle once again. He can see how every time you open a new tab youâre quick to close it as you scroll down and see the prices. Minho is really trying to memorize everything you seem to spend a bit longer looking at, but your fingers are moving at a pace of someone used to this type of routine, and his brain is sluggish after a full day being berated upon.
âBaby stuff is a scamâ, you think aloud, and he can tell youâre annoyed, but also resigned. You are about to lock your phone when he takes it off your hands.
He clicks through the favorites on the website you had spent the longest on, and see that, although you were complaining, you had already ordered a few things here and there.
âWhy have you not asked me for help baby shopping?â, he uses his elbow for support, his attention fully on your phone now.
âI donât trust your taste in furnitureâ you joke, a long running bit between you two over how plain his usual decoration choices were.
Minho just stares at you, expression blank, and you hold his gaze for a little before giving up and giving him a real answer.
âIâve been slowly getting stuff, but itâs a lot of safety information and everything is so expensive, Iâm trying to find some things second-handâ
âYou couldâve said somethingâ, he tilts his hand in a way that you can no longer fully see your own screen.
âItâs a bit overwhelming to be honestâ, you resume your action of petting his head, giving up on bringing his attention away from the phone again.
âI couldâve helpedâ
âI know you could, I wouldâve asked for it eventuallyâ, and you think you would. Maybe. âYouâve just been so busy, I didnât want to pile up too much on youâ
âIâm never busy for you twoâ, and his hand that had been pulled from you to type on your phone goes back to your stomach, his eyes never leaving the screen as his fingers draw little circles where your belly is safely hidden under the covers.
Silence settles in again as you study his expression. You place a hand on top of his own, over your bump. A surge of gratefulness fills your chest. Just as you were about to say something, he gives you back your phone and lowers his head again, finding his previous position, tucking his nose on your neck.
You look at the screen only to notice he had purchased your entire wishlist. You gape at it for a moment before using the hand on his hair to tuck at his scalp, a little whine escaping his lips.
âMinho!â you insist.
âWhat?â, he relents, his breath once again hitting your neck and giving you goosebumps.
âThatâs too much!â
âItâs really notâ, his voice softens. He lifts his head again and donât even look at you as he brings a finger to your phone, easily switching to your saved cards. Thereâs a new one alongside yours. âThere.â
You stare at the card. The very fancy card. You stare at his face. His very pretty face, set on a very stern look.
âNow you use that for anything baby relatedâ, he doesnât break eye contact for a second. âMommy related too, if you wantâ
âI wonât buy stuff for me with your card, Minhoâ
âWhy not?â, he seems so genuinely confused you almost snort, âitâs not any different from me buying you food for the last like 10 years, and you never complained about thatâ
You keep staring at him, thinking on how to bring this conversation back to your comfort zone. Realistically speaking, you knew it shouldnât bother you that he wanted to financially help with the baby stuff. But you never really talked about shopping for a nursery - and where said nursery should even be. You just assumed youâd turn your little office space at home into the baby room, and as it was your house, it should be your responsibility to furnish it.
Youâve been getting some clothes and other small necessities as well, but those were more impulse purchases than real thought out needs. And youâve been smart enough with how you were adapting your wardrobe to fit around your changing body as well, so it wasnât too much of a struggle.
Maybe you were quiet for too long because it seemed you were winning the staring contest you accidentally found yourself in again. He blinks and looks away, down to your bump and your connected hands still above it.
âYouâve been baking Bun for months, itâs the least I can doâ, and he sounds like you imagine stardust sounds like. Soft and gentle, raspy and careful. So you let go. Thereâs no point arguing with him when he set his mind to something - you should know that better than anyone.
âStop calling her Bun, Iâm not an ovenâ, you say with no heat on your voice, while also making a point to let him see as you scroll back to a different website, searching for a little piece youâve been eyeing for months.
The bassinet was made out of dark wood, with rounded corners and pretty leaf engravings on the sides. It wasnât the most expensive one you found, just a little over the budget you had set for yourself. But the reviews were amazing and ever since you first set your eyes on it you could perfectly picture how it would fit in your home, what type of bedding would match, how the wood would shine under the light of the setting sun that reached a specific corner of that room.
With a few clicks the purchase was complete. Minho pressing a small chaste kiss just under your ear.
As you went back to looking for new inspiration online, now with the dream bassinet in mind, you felt his breathing steading itself. The weigh of his arm going limp over you. You adjust a bit to find the corner of the blanket, bringing it over both of your bodies. You would both probably wake up a little sore the next day, being squeezed together on the sofa all night, but as his soft snores hit your ears, you couldnât bring yourself to care.
> a/n | a shorter chapter to balance out the ones to come soon hehe as always, thanks for reading, see you sooooooon!!
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â angst so light you need a magnifying glass to see it. MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
11. what is a Lee Know?
If someone had told you a year ago that youâd have three stray kids members kneeling in front of you at a beaten down warehouse, willing a baby inside your belly to move for them, youâd ask what kind of drugs were they on - and then proceed to call Minho and tell him all about it.
But now, sitting on a surprisingly comfortable fold out chair on their music video filming site, thatâs exactly what was happening.
âWhat if I try rapping for her?â, Changbin was the first to approach when you arrived, babbling about how they had all been arguing about who had favorite-uncle energy.
âYou can try knocking?â, Seungmin, standing a few steps away with Jeongin, suggests.
You look at him alarmed before turning to the boys sitting in front of you, âplease donât knock on my bellyâ.
âMaybe sheâs asleepâ, Chan had been the next to join Changbinâs antics, fully expecting you to side with him, bragging that, besides Minho, he was the first you shared the news about the baby with.
âMaybe she just doesnât like you guysâ, Seungmin pipes in again, to which Felix, the third boy directly in front of you, just rolls his eyes.
Minho was off filming an insert for the video with Jisung and Hyunjin, so you were yet to see him that day. Not that it made much of a difference, since you had been surrounded on all corners ever since making yourself known on set. Changbin was quick to find you a chair and him and Felix had not left your side, discussing on the best way to draw the baby attention, setting alongside Chan that whoever could make your little one kick would get dibs on favorite-uncle title.
âWhy canât you just wait for the baby to be outside?â, Jeongin seriously asks, never once having come near your belly. He had made it pretty clear that it freaked him out a bit, and you completely accepted his reasoning. Hell, if you were not yourself the one pregnant, youâd also not be too thrilled about a whole human moving inside someone elseâs body.
âItâs more fun this wayâ, Changbin replies without looking back at his younger members, silently hovering his hand on your belly, awaiting your ok, and placing it right above your belly button when you nod him yes, giving it a rub, âjust one kick girl, câmon, show them uncle Bin is your favoriteâ
âJisung would be so pissed if she kicked you before himâ, Chan was not wrong. Every time you hung out at the dorms over the past month, Jisung would always ask for the baby to kick. He almost felt it a few times but was yet to catch it.
âHe has had more chances than anyone, if she hasnât kicked for him yet that just means heâs not her favoriteâ, Felix was usually the first to stand by the members, but on this topic he too was fighting tooth and nail for the favorite uncle title.
You see Seungmin wave to someone behind you and, before you can turn to look at whoâs coming, you feel arms circling from above you, a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
âYah! Get out, youâre sweatyâ, you nudge Minho away from you, only for him to lower his body until his face is level with your belly and also drop a little kiss over your bump.
âHi to you tooâ, he says softly, only for the baby to kick so hard you can actually see your skin move under your shirt.
âThatâs not fair!â, Changbin eyes bulge out as he too had seen the clear movement.
A loud and teasing âHeh!â comes out of Minho and you only roll your eyes as he paddles away to probably find himself some water.
âWow, she really is a daddyâs girlâ, Felix claps his hands slowly and dramatically.
âI admit defeatâ, Chan adds.
âI told you guys, she wonât even kick for me!â, you have been trying to drill that onto them, to various degrees of failure.
Of course sheâd still kick you randomly. You could feel her hiccup whenever you got out of the shower and the cold hit your body, or when your belly accidentally got wet while doing the dishes. Youâd be woken up in the middle of the night in a rush to relieve your bladder whenever she decided she didnât want to sleep, and you were always readjusting your sitting position at work, based on which vertebrae she had decided to assault that day. But never once had she kicked when you asker her to.
Minho, however?
All he needed to do was place a hand on your bump and sheâd respond. He would coo and whisper to your belly, sometimes keeping his voice so soft not even you could hear him. But every time he asked, without fail, sheâd move for him. Dance for him, as youâve been saying.
âYou better not be doing what I think youâre doingâ, you heard Jisungâs loud voice as he approached the group, and in no time he was also joining the boys in front of you, going through his usual routine of trying to get the babyâs favor. Hyunjin followed closely, giving you a sideways hug as a hi that you quickly swatted away, given how sweaty he also was.
âYou guys know that the baby has kicked me before, right?â, is how he joins the conversation.
Chan raises his arms from where heâs sitting on the floor, pointing to Hyunjin as if the younger boy was the voice of reason, âIâve been saying that! I also felt Bun kick so Iâm already ahead of the race for favorite uncle!â
âThose were not intentional kicks, so they donât countâ, is what Jisung adds, with Changbin and Felix nodding along in agreement.
âNothing the baby does right now is intentionalâ, Jeongin chimes in, âitâs literally a fetusâ
Minho walks back with a towel for himself and hands Hyunjin another one. He squats beside you and puts a hand on your belly again, âdonât listen to them, Bun, you donât have to kick for anyone but meâ.
As always, as if on cue, you feel another nudge from the inside, a little to the left of where Minho holds his hand. He smiles proudly and you try to contain your smile, to not let the boys know.
âShe kicked him again, didnât she?â Hyunjin deadpans. You donât move a single muscle but the sparkle in your eyes gives it away. You canât deny this is very entertaining for you.
Jisung is indignant, âyou have got to be kidding meâ.
âTell me that was not intentional?â, Changbin points to where Minhoâs hand is on your belly, directing his rage at the younger members standing a few steps behind.
Seungmin looks up from his phone and seems to assess the situation for a moment before deciding itâs best to just ignore it, his phone pings again and he takes a peak before turning to you, âJihye says she just pulled upâ.
He doesnât even wait for a reply before leaving the group, probably going to find his girlfriend. The two of you had grown quite close over the past month, and she even joined you and Bora a couple of times for cafe dates. So you knew Seungmin was actually very affectionate with her, being caught off guard by how reserved he was about it, trying to sneak hugs and kisses when the members could not see to tease him over it.
âThere you are!â, your best friendâs voice was the last to make itself known. Bora was finally choreographing something for Stray Kids, to Minhoâs dismay. You, however, had never been happier, now having a good enough reason to visit both of them on set. She also comes behind you like Minho did, kissing your cheek as a hello and purposefully bringing her chest close to your back, making it so you could really feel how sweaty she was, âhow are you, darling?â
âYou are all disgustingâ, you scrunch your nose at her, only for her to mirror the gesture at you.
âNow you, scoot over, my turnâ, she shoos away Chan and you can only marvel at how confident Bora was, talking to Stray Kidsâ Leader Bang Chan, while technically working for him, like heâs a 5 year old kid. To your surprise, the leader just smiled and got up, pulling Felix with him, mumbling something about having to do touch up before the next shoot anyway. Bora places a hand on your belly, ânow how are you?â.
To your surprise, your girl kicks.
Boraâs eyes go wild looking up at you, not moving her hand away as if awaiting for you to confirm what she just felt. You bite your lip to contain your smile and nod your head yes, and your friend starts hysterically laughing.
âNo wayâ, Jisung, still lingering, looks appalled between you, your bump, Boraâs hand on your bump and Boraâs victorious expression, âthere is no wayâ, he repeats.
âI knew I was the favorite uncleâ, she beans proudly at the 2/3rds of 3Racha looking at her with betrayal written all over their faces.
âYou insisted you were her favorite dad like two days agoâ, Minho says.
âAnd now Iâm her favorite uncleâ, she pokes her tongue out at him.
âWhy canât you just be her favorite aunt?â, Changbin whines.
âBecause gender roles are stupid and we were fighting for favorite uncle and I won so Iâm the favorite uncle,â she says it all in one breath, while finally getting up once a staff signals they need her for something.
âDibs on being the favorite auntâ, Hyunjin raises his hand, only for a choir of voices to rise again, all claiming why they should be favorite aunt.
That goes on for long enough that the next set is ready for them to resume shooting, and you are left with Jihye, who found her way in with Seungmin, to watch from the sidelines the next segment of the music video - this time a group dancing bit with just the members, no extra dancers.
Bora is monitoring from the front, alongside the rest of the staff. You keep quiet while they run through the routine a few times, keeping your eyes glued on Minho, whoâs leg was doing much better but was still not at 100%.
That had made it so he had been extra clingy over the past few weeks, using his sprained ankle as an excuse for everything when he was near you. You saw right through him but played along anyway, trying to convince yourself that the flutters in your heart whenever he held onto a hug for a little too long were completely normal.
So it doesnât surprise you when he runs straight to you when the staff announces a five minute break for them to set the next angle. He sits on the floor in front of you, pressing his back to your legs and dropping his head back on your lap. You are handed a portable fan by a manager and holds it over him to ease some of his sweat.
As much as he is warm you are cold though, with the tail end of the summer transitioning into fall, and the t-shirts no longer being enough to keep you comfortable. You shudder and he feels it, looking up at you with an eyebrow raised in question.
âForgot my hoodieâ, you simply say. He fakes annoyance and stands up, returning with a couple staff hoodies and handing them to both you and Jihye, who also only had a light jacket with her.
âNever say Iâve done nothing for youâ, he teases the both of you and Seungmin runs along, muttering something about Minho stealing his job.
You both slip onto the new pieces of clothing, thankful for the immediate respite from the cold. You check your phone to see thatâs not even that cold yet, blaming the pregnancy for taking away your usual resistance to the lower temperatures.
Soon the members are called back and you and Jihye fall into a quiet conversation about work, relationships, families and everything in between.
â
Itâs a couple of days before the pictures drop.
You had slept at your own place last night after getting home from work, enjoying an early night for once in forever, so youâre not surprised to wake up and see texts from Minho waiting for you. Thatâs an usual occurrence when your hours donât line up, he aways lets you know when he makes it home and the plans he had on the next day, trying to put aside some hours to see you and the bump. You are surprised, however, to see so many other messages with his as well, all received over the past couple of hours.
[5:16AM] lee minho (baby daddy): morning
[5:16AM] lee minho (baby daddy): donât go online
[5:16AM] lee minho (baby daddy): call me when youâre up
[6:02AM] lee jihye (ksm gf): please tell me youâre as freaked out as I am
[7:12AM] kim seungmin: hey noona
[7:12AM] kim seungmin: can you talk to jihye please
[7:12AM] kim seungmin: sheâs not texting me back anymore
[7:12AM] kim seungmin: this is so fucked up
[7:23AM] hyunjinnie: here if you need to talk!
[7:27AM] bora-bora: why the fuck are reporters calling me at this god forsaken hour
[7:27AM] bora-bora: i will kill someone
[7:27AM] bora-bora: donât try to stop me
[7:28AM] bora-bora: but maybe help me hire a lawyer?
[7:28AM] bora-bora: or hide a body?
Youâre about to completely disregard Minhoâs plea for you to not go online when your phone starts ringing.
bang chan (skz leader) is calling youâŠ
âHeyâ, he sounds a little out of breath when you pick up, âyou okay?â
âI donât know?â, you reply honestly, âshould I not be?â
âYou havenât seen it yetâ, the revelation sounds like a worry and a relief at the same time
âWhat am I not supposed to see?â
âThey leaked some photos from setâ, he says in a rush.
âCome again?â, and you hear him take a deep breath on the other side of the line.
âPhotos. Leaked. You and Jihye.â, he gives you time to let that sink in, âY/n?â
âYeah yeah, Iâm listeningâ, youâre not even fully awake yet, how is this your day already?
âAt first it was just some blurry shots from far awayâ, he continues, âbut it got some attention overnight and someone, weâre not sure who yet, posted photos from setâ
You stay silent, waiting for him to continue, still only half awake. Your brain seemed to refuse to catch up with the information.
âThe team is blocking the spread as much as they can, but weâve been called to a meeting about itâ, you hear voices in the back, but unlike the usual happy chatter you could sometimes overhear, it all sounded tense.
âIs there anything I could do?â, is all you can ask, not sure of what you even should be asking.
âStay safe?â, the question sounds like a plea, âMinho is already inside with Seungmin, he asked me to let you knowâ
âThank you Chanâ, and as your mind finally starts to catch up you quickly add, âhave you guys been able to reach Jihye?â
âYeah I just talked to her as wellâ, he sounds uncertain, âshe doesnât sound too good thoughâ
âIâll call her as soon as we hang upâ, your voice carrying the type of confidence you rarely displayed, âtake care of the boys, will you?â
âYou know I willâ, his voice softens, some of the edge melting away, âyouâre taking this better than I expectedâ
âOh no Iâm absolutely freaking outâ, and you hear him lightly chuckle on the other side of the line, âbut itâs not as if we could avoid this foreverâ
As soon as the call with Chan ends, you text Jihye back but, before calling her, you do the exact opposite of what you were told and goes online to check what you were dealing with.
You scroll past a few posts before the photos finally pop up onto your feed. There are a few different images at first, most from farther away, blurry and with not a lot to distinguish.
They seem to be from the beginning of the shoot, you had your back to where whoever took them was probably standing, so there was not a lot to see. You seemed to be talking to a couple of the boys - Changbin and Felix, most likely, given the hair colors. Unfortunately there were also staff around you in that picture, the contrast in clothing and actions making it clear that you were not part of their team, but a visitor. There were also a couple of pictures from a different place that you recognized as the parking lot, also blurry and taken from far away, but you knew that the person stepping out of the small grey vehicle was Jihye, her light colored jacket making it easy to identify her.
But as you kept scrolling you come across more photos. Granted, a lot of Stays were being vocal about not sharing them, but if it only took you a few clicks to find them, you were sure they would not be that easy to scrap from the internet.
Those were a lot clearer. There were less of them, taken from somewhere closer but not that close.
Minho handing you and Jihye the merch hoodies when you got cold. The two of you girls talking excitedly amongst yourselves, happy and carefree, with no idea of a camera sneakily capturing the moment - it would be cute if it was not a complete invasion of privacy. Seungmin, Chan and Hyunjin standing in front of you as you talked in between takes, thankfully not too close as Jihye joined you in complaining they were all sweaty. Bora with her hands around the back of both of your chairs, the two of you turned to her as she pointed out some details and shared the thought process for the choreography.
That was enough. There didnât seem to be anything too compromising, but you could easily see both of your faces - and that was enough to send alarms blearing inside your mind. You didnât find any mention of you being pregnant however, a small blessing amongst a very shitty situation. A notification comes in as you are about to lock your phone.
[7:45AM] lee jihye (ksm gf): do you mind if we meet for coffee later?
You bite your lip, not sure wether to call her or not. The fact that she wanted to meet up was already a good sign though. You woke up early enough that, if you could clock in a couple hours in advance, you could also leave early to meet her.
[7:47AM] y/n: I get out off work at 4
[7:47AM] y/n: will you be alright until then?
Her text is quick to come.
[7:47AM] lee jihye (ksm gf): yes
[7:47AM] lee jihye (ksm gf): Iâll pick you up
And a beat later,
[7:48AM] lee jihye (ksm gf): thank you
You reply to the rest of the messages you got, giving both Minho and Seungmin updates on your plans and making sure that none of your friends had to worry about you. Having the coffee plan with Jihye was enough to make you spring into action, pushing your own worries to the back of your mind as you finished getting ready and made your way out of the house.
And you managed to stay that way for all of twenty minutes after reaching your desk at work.
âYouâre here earlyâ, Seoyun walks in the office, plopping her own purse at her desk before walking over to yours, resting her hip to the wall by your work station and crossing her arms, âis everything okay?â
âYeah, just need to step out earlier today so Iâm trying to get ahead on workâ, you mumble a reply, not really looking her way.
âDo you have a project with the marketing team?â, her question is random enough to grab your attention, the quizzical look on your face probably giving her all the answers she needed, âI bumped into Daya coming in, she said she was looking for youâ
Daya. Who knew Jihye. Who was into celebrity gossip. Who also knew you, well enough to probably recognize you in the leaked photos. Something on your expression must have given it away that your brain chose that moment to catch up on all the repercussions this could have. Your identity being leaked alongside your job. Your pregnancy. Your home.
âHey, heyâ, Seoyun took a step closer, concern written all over her features, âwhatâs wrong?â
Before you could reply, a third person walked into your office. She comes straight for you but slows down as she senses something is off.
âY/n?â, Dayaâs face matches Seoyun in concern, eyebrows drawn in together.
You look in between them a couple of times, trying to make a game plan on how to get away from this situation. At the same time you see Daya eyeing Seoyun, her expression also betraying her own calculations.
âSo, I have this friendâŠâ, you start, looking more at Seoyun but catching Dayaâs expecting eyes on the corner of your vision, âwho happens to be a celebrityâ
And before you could continue, Daya leaps forward, eyes big in a mix of concern and excitement.
âI knew it was you!â, she whispers-shout while at the same time signaling for you to stay quiet, âsome of the other girls at my office think so tooâ, she adds, walking over to the door to check the corridor, making sure thereâs no one else around before closing it behind her.
âWait, whatâs going on?â, some of Seoyunâs concern is replaced by confusion.
âI visited this friend at work and some photos leakedâ, you breath out, exhausted but relieved, sensing the camaraderie on the actions of your coworkers, âhe happens to be an idolâ
âNo wayâ, itâs Seoyunâs turn to widen her eyes, looking between you and Daya, whoâs all but bouncing on her feet.
âYes way!â, Daya screeches, âI canât believe you know them! And you didnât even say anything when I was talking to you about them!â
âItâs not as if I really wanted people to knowâ, you mutter quietly, and she immediately dials down her own excitement.
âOh shit yeah, Iâm sorry, how are you?â, and it sounds so genuine you donât know how to react âI promise Iâm keeping my mouth shut, Iâll try and convince the other girls at my office itâs not you as well, itâs not much but-â
âIâm alrightâ, you say to cut off her rumbling, and itâs almost true, âJihye is not doing so well thoughâ
âAnd that would beâŠ?â, Seoyun is still as confused as ever.
âLee Knowâs girlfriendâ, Daya replies, matter of factly.
âSeungminâs, actuallyâ, you correct her, ignoring the pang of jealousy you feel at her statement.
âYouâre kidding meâ, Dayaâs head snap back at you.
âWhat is a Lee Know?â, Seoyun almost whines, having trouble keeping up.
So for the next hour, instead of working, you had to explain to your coworkers-turned-allies about your relationship with Stray Kids - minus the whole being pregnant with one of the memberâs child.
Daya was a pleasant surprise, getting angry on your behalf at the invasion of privacy, promising you sheâd do her best to not let other coworkers suspect on anything. She also apologized for how she talked about the group the last time you met, when she first showed you Jihyeâs social media. She felt bad about it now, specially once she realized Seungminâs girlfriend had deleted her account overnight, a fact not even you had noticed yet.
And you believed her.
You almost felt grateful. This was, by all means, a Stay. A fan of the group you held so dear to your heart and, as scared as you were, talking with her helped.
You knew that most people out there were good. You saw how a big chunk of the fandom seemed to be actively trying to stop the images from spreading. But you also knew that this type of thing had repercussions.
When you finally manage to get back to work, your mind is a little bit more at ease.
> a/n | This entire chapter is just friends being good friends and I know not muchhh happened but I truly enjoy just writing them banter lol As always, thank you for reading, see you soon!
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, drinking, MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
<< previous | masterlist | next >>
10. intermission. summer
Minho hates to see you upset. Truly upset. Youâre frequently annoyed at him and your friend groupâs antics, but he kind of gets a kick out of that. Youâre rarely upset though.
He could tell you were upset the moment he stepped backstage, Changbin and Hyunjin to his sides while Chan, true to his role, lead the way while calling for the medical teamâs attention.
If Minho was true to himself, his ankle hurt like a bitch. He doesnât even remember falling and the rest of the concert went by in a little bit of a blur. He pushed through and made it out, that was the important part. But now? Oh now it hurt.
So he didnât feel too self conscious about being clingy. He wanted you by his side, even if it was clearly making you even more upset. At him. Which was not fun.
The doctor had warned him heâd need rest, heâd have to wear the silly little boot and use a wheelchair to get around as much as possible, at least for a couple of weeks. The tour doctor had scolded him. His managers had scolded him. The doctor at the hospital had scolded him. He knew his parents were scolding him right this moment via text, as he was meant to be meeting them for dinner, and for sure, the moment he stepped out, youâd also be there - to scold him.
But low and behold, you were distracted. You almost allowed your attention fully back at him but he recognized the name of the woman you were talking to and it felt like a little gift from the universe to be able to switch the conversation that way.
He doesnât know why he suggested it. Maybe the pain meds were messing with his brain but you kept your annoyance at bay and he couldnât help but notice you didnât fight back as much. So before he knew it you were lying on an exam table, stomach uncovered to allow for the doctor to lay the ultrasound device and find your little Bun.
It never ceased to amaze Minho, how attached he grew to the blob that showed up on the screen. You had tears in your eyes - happy tears, he knew the difference. And suddenly the mood was light. You were happy. Heâd be the father to a baby girl and youâd make a fantastic mom, he was sure about it.
He didnât want to be kept apart just yet. He was feeling clingy, heâd never admit it but it was the truth. So he asked to follow you home, and you let him, you always let him.
Because that has always been the type of person you were. You were the friend that was always there, giving everything and wanting for nothing back. As you helped him get ready for bed, his mind kept wondering back to familiar memories, stuff of the past.
Minho had not meant to drink that much. But now nothing stayed in place and, if he turned his head too fast, the corners of his vision would blur.
The party sounds were still going strong, it had been a while since he was last at one. Bora had managed to drag him away from practices and they both made it their mission to convince you to follow them.
Bora was preparing to move away. Fresh out of her dance academy, she had signed a career changing contract to a dance company overseas. This would be one of the last times the entire friend group would be together for at least a few months. It was kind of a big deal.
Minho himself had become a trainee not that long ago, and there were rumors about a reality show that would help debut a group. He wanted in on that. So he had been practicing and training and spending more time on JYPâs basement then at his own home. He had made some good friends there, which helped, but he had to be on his best behavior at all times, which grew tiring too.
And you, wonderfully overachiever you, was still halfway through college but had just landed a very good job position and was, somehow, managing to balance both your education and your career, alongside a relationship. Well, you were, at least, until about a week before when he got a text from Bora, âdouchebag is out of the picture, party on sat?â and that was that.
You seemed okay, at least from where he stood, perched on the side of the bed, legs extended in front of him. To climb up seemed like too much of a hustle. You had dragged him there, told him to wait while you fetched him some water. Boraâs room was aways a bit of a mess. He could spot a pile of clothes on the floor, a half packed luggage bag - or half unpacked maybe, who knows? She had started to take down her posters but seemed to have given up halfway at that too, with two walls laying bear while the other two were still clustered with all sorts of images, from pop artists to sport celebrities.
He was thinking if he should try and find his phone so he could take a picture of the mess, something he could use to to rub it on her face later when sheâd inevitably argue she had her life together. How would she be able to fend for herself? Before he could, however, you walked back in.
Minhoâs reflexes were slow, that was the only reason as to why he took his time looking up from your legs all the way to your face. You were dressed in simple skinny jeans and a light blue strapless top, exposing your shoulders and collarbones. You also had your hair up in a claw clip, and Minho took longer than he should looking at the curve of your neck. When his lazy eyes finally found yours, you were staring at him humorlessly.
âWhy are you on the floor?â
He lets his head fall back, âthe bed was too far awayâ
âYouâre literally leaning on the bed, Minhoâ, you dead-penned.
His only response was a grunt and to close his eyes, blindly extending his arm your way so you could give him the water.
You do so and take a sit next to him, patting his thigh while at it.
He dawns the water, eyes still close, basking on the casual touch of comfort. He didnât think of himself as a clingy person, but every now and then heâd allow himself to be taken care of by you.
You were a much better friend to him than he was to you, most of the time. Even while busy with study and work, youâd still check in. Meanwhile, he couldnât even manage to ask how you were feeling about the break-up.
âSo, JunheeâŠâ, he starts, and notice how you immediately recoil your hand from him.
âLetâs notâ, you cut the conversation before it even began.
He lets the silence stretch. Opens one of his eyes, finally, looks at you sideways. The words spins again.
âIf youâre going to puke at least warn me so I can moveâ, he was not sure what gave it away, but the chuckle made the nausea subside.
âI kinda want to get sick on Boraâs roomâ
âSheâd kill youâ
âYou wouldnât let herâ
âIâd helpâ
He could keep the back and forth going, but instead chose to look at you. Really look at you, both eyes open, head turned your way, to get the point across.
âWe both know youâd clean the entire room before she could ever find out anything happened.â
It was your turn to let your head fall back, defeated. Minho knew he won.
âWhat can I say, I adopted you, youâre my responsibilityâ, it was a recurring joke.
You and Bora had been friends first, and you were the one that approached Minho back when your lives overlapped. So whenever Minho was particularly annoying towards Bora, sheâd say it was your responsibility to get him under control. Over the years, you cleaned more messes after the two of them than you could count. Minho might not have been the best at expressing his gratitude, but he noticed.
âYouâre such a momâ, theyâd been teasing you about it recently, as the friend group grew, you were the one most of them went to for advice, for a place to crash, for a little headache pill you always seemed to have on your magical bottomless purse. Even when you were not even carrying a purse.
âYeah, sure, except an actual baby would give me less trouble than you lotâ, you went back to patting his leg, he closed his eyes again.
âYou need a boyfriend for that, firstâ, you put some weight on your hand when it came down next, a solid slap on his tight, stealing a little choke of pain out of Minho, âtoo soon?â
âYes, assholeâ, you huffed.
âI thought you were done with him, anyway?â he turned his head to you again, but kept it supported on the side of the bed.
âKindaâ, you start, but seem to think better of it, âI donât know, Minho, I donât want to talk about itâ
So it was not you who had broken things off. You didnât say much to Bora either, but he knew youâve been complaining about the relationship to her, so the both of them assumed you were the one that ended things. How could anyone break up with you was beyond him, but alas, he preferred you single anyway, at least then you had some time to think about yourself instead of pouring all your care into others.
You allow for a small sigh to escape, âsome days I feel like Iâm going to die aloneâ.
Itâs the type of thing you wouldnât say had you not thought heâd be too drunk to remember it the next day. He knew how you worked by now. You hated being pitied, asking for help or confessing when something was bothering you, but the moment either of you got drunk, it just poured out of you.
âIâd never let you die aloneâ, he scoots his head down to rest on your naked shoulder, turning slightly just once to rub his nose on your skin.
He could still smell the floral scent of your perfume. It was a breezy type of summer night but you were warm under his touch. He lays his hand on top of yours, his turn to give you little pats.
You sit like that for a while. He feels the way your breathing changes before he sees it. You were holding back from crying. He turned his head again, dropping a small kiss to the curve of your neck. You turn your hand so your palm can meet his, and squeeze. Your breathing evens out.
He was too drunk to say anything sane right then, anything that could help. But he had always been good at keeping you company in your silence. He felt as you dropped a kiss to the crown of his head, weighted if he should feel self conscious over the fact that he was sweaty, but decided it wouldnât bother him to kiss you like that either so it should be fine.
And then he kept thinking about how he wouldnât mind kissing you in a lot of ways.
And that all of those ways should be fine.
So he placed another kiss on your shoulder, and then another on your neck.
And when you didnât move away, he placed another on your cheek.
And another on the corner of your mouth, making you part your lips in surprise? Anticipation? He couldnât tell and he wouldnât care, because next thing he knew his lips were on yours.
His lips were on yours.
And he didnât mind that at all.
But he was too drunk and if the two of you were to start kissing, properly kissing, he wanted to make it right. So he pulled away, missing the hurt on your face as he did so. He closed his eyes and leaned back again, you squeezed his hand one more time before untangling your fingers from him.
âIâll go tell Bora youâll crash on her room, she can come sleep at mineâsâ, you say, already moving to stand up.
He had no recollection of making onto the bed, he thinks you might have come back to help him, he vaguely remembers Bora complaining about being kicked out of her own place, but by then he was mostly out, the tiredness catching up to him as the buzz of the alcohol went down.
The next morning, as you came back in with Bora to help her clean up the apartment - proving his point, by the way - you donât mention the kiss.
Youâre too gracious to do so, he half expected it, he takes your silence as the rejection it was, an acknowledgment that this would be a bad move for you guys. And he helped clean, he grumbled over his headache, he accepted when Bora said sheâd order coffee for the three of you (partially to rub on your faces she now had disposable income like that, but also because the dancer needed the caffeine, would never not get you some, and knew youâd make her get some for Minho too, anyway).
It all went back to how it aways had been.
Soon after, heâd land a place on this rumored show, courtesy of one Bang Chan who had seen him dance during one of the endless night practices and thought he was good enough to join his group. Bora would split her life across different countries - but always made sure to inform when she landed back home. And you graduated top of your class and climbed the corporate ladder, while always having time to text your friends back.
And you never mentioned the kiss again, but secretly, whenever Minho felt a breeze during a warm summer evening, heâd think about the shape of your neck, and how he wouldnât mind kissing it again.
> a/n | sooooo what do we think? they have been clueless for way longer than you were led to believe hehe as always, thanks for reading, see you soooooon <3
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, smut, drinking, (kinda) drunk sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this) pregnant sex (it leads to this), MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
> A/N |Â this is one of my favorite chapters, I know it's specially chunky but I couldn't bring myself to split it more than I already did (this being the ending of what was originally the third chapter of the entire work). Anywayyyy, happy reading!
<< previous | masterlist | next >>
09. I need to keep up with my baby daddy?!
The party was taking place at a small club you had never been to, reserved only for the members, the crew and their guests. It had Stray Kids achievements plastered all over the walls, a fully open bar, songs that were picked by the members themselves, and a whole bunch of excitement from everyone in attendance.
As Bora and you made your way in, the dance floor was already packed, with Bora making sure you were okay before running straight for it, joining her own friends to jump around to the beat as if that was not her actual job already.
You were grabbing a mocktail for yourself, something colorful with a skz pun as a name, when you spotted her. The woman from the restaurant photos. With your breath caught on your throat, you did your best to move away as fast as possible, finding an empty booth at the very back of the club to hide in and recompose yourself.
So the rumors were true.
You watched as the members started to arrive, some by themselves, some in duos or with other people in tow. Always loud, always cheered on. Minho came in with Seungmin, and both of them made their way straight to the bar, where you had just spotted the mystery girl.
There was a tightness in your chest that you were afraid to name.
Before you could even try to though, you spotted Minho again, he said something to Seungmin and the girl and waved generally towards the club, his eyes scanning around, looking for something. You noticed the moment he found Bora first, starting to cut his way through the crowd to reach her.
You were still following his movements when someone slid in to take a sit across from you, a blonde head blocking your view.
âNoona!â, Felix was excited and already smelled a bit like alcohol, his hairline sweaty from dancing, a huge grin on his face, âcan you come control Bora?â
âThatâs above my paycheckâ, you joke back, trying to keep your focus on the friend in front of you.
As he opens his mouth to speak again, Seungmin is suddenly right behind him, a hand coming to rest on Felixâs shoulder. In tow is the girl. The girl.
âHey noona, Lino hyung is looking for youâ, he lets you know straight away, as Felix makes space for them to scoot into the booth with you as well, coming all the way to your side, as Seungmin sits first and makes space for the girl to sit right in front of you.
She does a polite small bow and you can tell sheâs as uncomfortable with the situation as you are. You look back into the crowd to try and find Minho or Bora or Hyunjin or literally anyone you could use as an excuse to get out of there when Seungmin starts talking again.
âYou havenât met Jihye yet, right?â, both you and the girl - Jihye - nod your heads no. He brings his hand laced with hers on top of the table so you could see, before continuing the introduction, âthis is my girlfriend, darling, this is Minho hyungâs friend I was telling you aboutâ, you ignore the way Seungmin says the word friend, too occupied masking the surprise on your face, suppressing a relieved breath you really wanted to take.
âYou look so pretty, Unnie!â, she says kindly, âMinho oppa had showed me a photo of you but your hair was differentâ
âOh no, Iâm afraid to ask which oneâ, you think back to all the terrible photos Minho has of you.
âNo, no, nothing bad!â, her eyes go wide but sheâs humorous about it, âit was one you sent him a while ago, it came in when we were all having dinner?â
Seungmin laughs at the memory, and adds to her comment, âhe kept checking his phone while we ate, we were all teasing him about it but then Changbin hyung noticed that it was you who were texting and suddenly switched sidesâ.
You roll your eyes, having been informed of Changbinâs shipping antics before. You also now knew exactly what picture he had showed her, and when.
The night the picture of Minho and Jihye was taken, he had left your place after making a delivery of a bunch of his t-shirts he said he was no longer wearing, after you complained about barely having any that fit you comfortably. You had spent part of that evening trying on a few of the ones he brought you, only to find a very old one in the mix, with his old dance crew team name on it. You had chosen that one to take a mirror selfie wearing, sending it to him with the quick text âplease change my name to y/n (cupcake crew)â.
Now that you think about it, he never really replied to that.
Across the dance floor you lock eyes with Minho, who was right by Bora waving excitedly at you, trying to get your attention. You excused yourself from the rest of the table and started making your way towards the crowd of now very sweaty, maybe inebriated, people.
You recognized a few of the people around your friends as the dancers Bora was hanging out with on the backstage of the concert, a couple of them completely drunk by now - or using the alcohol as an excuse to take some liberties when dancing together. You couldnât really hear anything over the music, but as you got close enough to Bora, she extended her arm to you and pulled you in to dance with her, your body feeling awkward at first but slowly finding the rhythm to move along.
Minho was constantly nearby. Not really dancing with you, but never being too far off either. When you noticed him glancing at the bar a third time, you figured he probably wanted another drink, so you pointed on that direction and mouthed a âCome with me?â. His response arrived in the way he found first the small of your back, getting closer, and then circling his arm on your waist, as to not get separated while you tried to escape the crowd.
You were surprised about the amount of vodka that went into the drink Minho ordered but as he brought the glass to his lips, the beverage went down smoothly, without a single frown on his part over how strong it must have been. You just got yourself a water that you dawned almost entirely in one go. When was the last time you danced this much? You honestly could not remember.
âYou okay?â, he got closer to your ear, to make sure you heard him. The warmth of his breath on your exposed neck sent shivers down your spine. You nodded your head yes, only for him to place a hand down your belly, another wave of goosebumps hitting you, âthey okay?â.
âYes, Minâ, you smiled fondly at him, âbut I should probably sit for a bitâ, you admitted, knowing that when the adrenaline left your body you would be sore all over.
âIâll get you another water, go sitâ, he pointed to an empty booth nearby and you made your way there without any resistance.
You watched from afar as he ordered another drink for him and one more water for you, taking a minute to look around again as well, seeing that the place was now even more packed then when you first arrived, a lot more agitated. There were a few people making out around the dance floor, and you could tell that a lot of the managers and higher ups were willing to turn a blind eye on their employees choices. Seungmin and Jihye were on the other side of where Minho was at, Jihye sitting on one of the stools, back pressed against the bar, Seungmin standing in front of her. They seemed to be having fun, with the boy sporting his typical teasing expression.
It was clear how good of a match they were and you felt silly about the mental breakdown you had over the possibility of Minho getting himself a girlfriend now. When your friend took a sit next to you, sliding the water with the cap already off, you took a sip before deciding to say something.
âI saw the posts about your girlfriend this weekâ, Minho turned your way so fast you felt a little gust of wind. You didnât need to look at him to imagine the alarmed face he was pulling, âso imagine how funny it was when Seungmin introduced her as his girlfriendâ
âDid you really think I had a girlfriend?â, he sounded offended and you finally turned his way to see the exact expression you had imagined.
âI mean, you couldâŠ?â, you masked your real feeling about it with a teasing tone.
He rolled his eyes, refusing to bite into it.
âWe noticed the sasaengs before walking inâ, he turned to look at the younger couple like you were just a minute before, âSeungmin went in first to avoid any rumors but Jihye tripped so I caught on to her so she wouldnât fallâ, he explained without you needing to ask him to, âChangbin was literally right behind me but that part of the photo they would not postâ
âYou couldâve said something about it, the internet was eating you aliveâ, you elbowed his side gently.
âYou know I donât really care about thatâ, he huffed out, taking another sip of his drink, âand I honestly didnât think youâd see any of thatâ
A hand went to your chest, a mocking offense being taken.
âI need to keep up with my baby daddy?!â, he scrunched his nose at you.
âI kind of hate that term, it feels so, I donât know, detachedâ
You look at his displeased face and desperately need to make it better, this was supposed to be a fun night for him and you bringing up the rumor, after the week of hate he mustâve received, now was obviously the wrong choice.
You pull out your phone and finds his contact, he leans in to watch what your doing in time to see you pressing save after changing his name from lee minho (stray kids) to lee minho (baby daddy).
âYa, change it back!â, he tries to snatch the phone from your hand but you pull away in time, only for him to lean more into your space.
âNopeâ, you smiled brightly up at him, feeling a bit tipsy without having ingested a single drop of alcohol, happy to have been able to switch his mood quickly.
âYouâre so annoyingâ, but there was no truth in the statement, as he quickly closed the distance in between you for a quick peck on your lips. Your hand flying to his chest to push him back as much as every cell in your body was begging for you to pull him closer.
âWeâre in public!â, is all that you said, trying to rationalize that the alcohol was probably guiding his bold decisions.
âNo one here caresâ, he sits back, pretending nothing happened, âIâm pretty sure most of them already knowâ
You were going to protest further but an old song you both had danced to together forever ago came up. The two of you immediately standing up and moving towards the dance floor again wordlessly, your hand finding his as bits of the choreography came back to you, the muscle memory kicking in.
One song bled into another and you let yourself be engulfed by the sounds around you, the heat of the bodies moving under the blinking lights. You take your time dancing with Minho, but also slips away to meet Bora and even risks pulling in some of the other dancers around you, having the type of careless fun you rarely allowed yourself to.
At some point one of the dancers starts getting a bit too handsy, and at first you leaned into them, blaming the hormones on how much you were enjoying some riskier touches on your skin. However, as their hands started to squeeze into your skin a bit too forcefully for your liking, you found yourself looking around for a way to detach yourself. Before you could try and detangle from them, Minho was behind you, taking the dancerâs hands away from your waist and replacing it with his.
A sigh of relieve barely left your lips when you saw the dancer stepping away without any resistance, only to be cut short by Minho pulling you more into him, your back completely flushed against his chest, his arms hugging you from behind.
He brings his forehead to rest on your shoulder, and one of your hands goes up to find his bleached hair, your fingers playing with it.
âThank youâ, you say, loud enough for only him to hear. He hums into your skin and you can smell the alcohol in him, mixed with his perfume and something else that you canât really place.
Minho lifts his head slightly to leave a kiss on the turn of your neck, where it meets your shoulder, âare you having fun?â
You nod and feel him place another kiss, this time a little higher up, just below your ear.
âI like the hairâ, he adds, the closest thing to a whisper he could manage with the loud noises around you.
And heâs not slurring his words, but heâs not exactly speaking clearly either, so you move your body to signal you wanted to move and he gives you enough space so you could turn to face him. Bringing both of your arms over his shoulder, his hands tightening around you again, keeping you just as close as before. He was gently swinging your bodies together, not really following the beat of the music, instead finding your own.
Your fingers trace the back of his head and you scan his whole face, taking a moment to try and map out every single strand of hair.
âI like yours tooâ, you voice it so quietly you are not even sure he heard you, but his eyes were on your lips, half reading them.
He leaned in a little, not closing the gap. Your body reacted, much like it did with the old choreographies, and you closed the rest of the space between you, bringing your lips to his.
He tasted faintly of alcohol, but youâre not too sure if thatâs whatâs getting you feeling dizzy.
It wasnât a long kiss, but it was enough for you to hear some hooting around you, Changbinâs voice particularly distinct. A few of the dancers around also teased you two, and you felt like a teenager again, getting lost in a crowd with your crush as your friends egged you on.
Heâs the one to break the kiss, keeping you close as he whispers in your ear if you should leave. You nod yes and feel him pulling you away from the dance floor again, signaling one of his managers and going straight to the exit where the drivers were waiting to safely take everyone home.
The ride goes by on a blur, his hands never leave your thighs and his mouth finds temporary stay by attaching itself to your neck, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin. You play with his hair, one hand also resting on this leg, reacting to his actions and trying to not overthink it too much.
You were having fun. This was part of the having fun, an exception to the rule.
As you arrive at the dorms, you can barely make it onto the elevator before his lips find yours again, hungry, overpowering. You kiss him back like a woman starved. Feel the heat climbing up, starting at the bottom of your stomach and making its way up your chest, neck, mouth.
He types in the code for the apartment without looking, stumbling inside while already placing his hands under your shirt, bunching it up to reveal the most amount of you he could without needing to break apart the kiss. You push him away slowly, intending to just help him undress you, maybe take off your shoes, but he takes a full step away, his back hitting the opposite wall.
Minho is breathing heavily, eyes darting all over you, trying to make sense of the situation. Youâre taken back but the change and also tries to calm down, regulating your intake of air.
âIâm sorryâ, he rubs his hands on his face, hiding his face from you.
âHeyâ, you try to get his attention but, when he doesnât look up, you step closer again, coaxing his arms down, âitâs okay, Minhoâ.
His shoulders relax when he looks at you, mouth opening up slightly, as if considering his next words. You take away his chance by getting a little closer, your hands finding his waist now and pushing your cores closer, feeling his hardness against you. He grunts in protest.
âDonât teaseâ, he whines when you donât step back, âwe said we wouldnâtâŠâ
You said you shouldnât. He had just agreed to your terms. But now you were horny and he had been kissing your neck for the past half hour and if you couldnât feel him it would drive you insane. He could blame the alcohol tomorrow, you could blame hormones or pregnancy brain or literally any other excuse your brain could come up with once the sun was up again. But for now you wanted him.
So you took him.
Mouth finding him neck first, hands reaching further behind him, the base of his back under the shirt, scooting lower to the curve of his butt. He reacted immediately.
The two of you stumbled further in, somehow finding the way to his room. He presses you to the door, too eager to take the few extra steps to the bed where he could properly undress you, so he starts by first just taking off your shirt, lips finding your neck again.
âWhat is up with you today?â Your hands, however, find his hair and keep him in place, doing the opposite of what your words imply.
He keeps making his way down your neck towards your breasts and for a second you think he wonât reply, but he distancies himself only for long enough to reply.
âI really like your hairâ, he says, placing a kiss on your opposite cheek first, before starting to make his way down the other side of you neck, balancing out and, to further prove his point, adding an extra hard nibble to your collarbone, âgives me easy accessâ
Growing impatient, you pull on his hair to make him meet your lips again, and then bring your hands to his front, starting to unbutton the shirt heâs wearing. He reciprocates by finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it, leaving you bear from the waist up, save for your necklaces. You start to undo his belt, the shirt hanging open on his arms, but before you can completely free him, he turns you around so youâre flushed against the door.
His lips find the back of your neck, his breath making you shiver under the contact. He pushes you even closer to the wall, while also pulling your waist back, making you grind against his erection. He places a few more kisses before allowing for a little bit of space, making sure you kept touching your ass to him, but bringing his hands up to undo the clasps of your jewelry. Heâs not hasty with it either, taking his time to undo each of the necklaces one by one but, in true Minho fashion, letting the pieces fall to the ground once he managed to free you from them.
Once he was satisfied, he shimmers out of his shirt and flushes his chest to your back again, lips, teeth and tongue to your skin while slowly undoing the front of your pants, just enough to slip his hand down your front.
His fingers reach your heat and the first contact makes you gasp, head falling down to rest on his shoulder and, consequentially, giving him even more access to your neck. His movements start slow, almost lazy. He circles the points where you want him to put pressure on, enough to make you squirm but not enough to get you off properly.
You try to hold onto his arm, to signal you need a little more, but he just chuckles against your naked shoulder while keeping his touch on your clit featherlike. Itâs only when he deems youâve suffered enough that he brings his hand further down, a finger starting to circle your entrance. You get on the tips of your toes, thighs separating on instinct to try and give him more access, but he keeps on teasing for longer than you expected him to.
When he finally slides a finger in, you are arching and grinding back shamelessly. He moves in and out a few times, slowly, before finding your clit again and resuming the teasing circling that, making you whine again in protest. You take one of your palms that had been resting on the wall, helping support you, and reach behind you, finding the place where his pants seem tighter. You squeeze him only once before heâs sliding his hand away from your heat and holding your core, keeping you near him as he flips the two of you and pretty much manhandles you into his bed.
He follows behind, the weight of his body comfortable as he presses himself agains you, kissing your neck and making his way down your back, all the way to the bottom of your spine. He slides your pants down and you hear him do the same to his, but doesnât dare to move, still stunned at the change of of place. He kisses your butt, nibbling on the sensible skin, and separates your tights while also pulling your hips up, giving him access to you from behind.
You feel his tongue sweep against you but you canât take the teasing any longer, pushing your hips back as to indicate him that you need more, a lot more. His chest is pressed to your back again in no time, and you feel his hardness grinding against the back of your ass.
A moan escapes you as there is finally a little pressure where you need it most, and it encourages you to slower his movements, angle his body again so you can support yourself more on your knees while still keeping your chest flushed on the mattress.
Minho only separates himself from you to take off his boxers and slide your panties down, not bothering to take them all the way off. When he grinds against you again, you feel first the wetness, a mixture of him and you that was dragged out for too long. But he doesnât enter you yet, instead grinding a few more times against your lower lips.
Youâre no longer responsible for the sounds escaping you, a mixture of pleadings and whines that sound like music to his ears. He keeps alternating between meeting his chest to you so he can kiss the back of your exposed neck, and pushing himself away to see how you look under him, the shape of your ass where it meets your waist, your hair growing wild by the second. The vision alone is enough to almost make him cum, and thatâs when he realizes he canât keep this up much longer.
âI think you were made for meâ, the words leave his lips before he can stop them, and Minho can only hope youâre too distracted to understand him.
It takes you a moment to place the meaning to the words but, by the time you do, heâs already angling himself to slide inside you, his other hand going around your body to also find your clit and start circling it again. Youâd process the words lately, now you knew only of pleasure and bliss.
His pace is slow, his strokes drawn out and he almost slides all the way out every time he pulls back. You arch your back and seek more contact, but he keeps you steady in place.
When you orgasm hits you, it comes almost out of nowhere, the time he took with you crashing down in pleasure all at once. You are still shaking under him when he slides off and flip you over.
He doesnât slide in again straight away, taking his time kissing you slowly, placing kisses on your cheeks and jaw while you tried to steady your breath again. When youâve mostly came down from the wave of pleasure, he angles one of your legs up, holding the back of your thigh, and only then starts sliding in again.
The overstimulation is almost too much but you power through, seeking his lips for comfort. He moans with your mouths still attached when he starts moving again, finding the same slow pace as before.
Youâd almost call it lazy was it not for the perfect angles he kept hitting. You start to feel you stomach clench again, a new wave building faster this time that your body knew where it led.
His hands explore your sides, your breasts, your neck, anywhere they can reach. You chose to place yours flat agains his back, nails tentatively scratching, not hard enough to leave a mark, but purposeful to make goosebumps rise on his skin.
When his moves grow a little faster, you know heâs approaching his own orgasm, and you cross your legs behind him to keep him close while also giving you a little extra pressure. You reach your peak again, biting his shoulder and the feeling overpowers you, and thatâs what sends him over the edge too, making him spill so much you can feel it inside you.
He quits his movement but doesnât slide off, instead pulling apart to study your face. You do the same with him.
Minhoâs eyes shine brighter then youâve ever seen them. Thereâs so much adoration there, although you wouldnât be able to name the emotion during that moment. Little do you know the exact same is reflected on your face. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and then to your cheek.
âI love the new hairâ, his smile spreads on his face slowly, âyou look very cuteâ
âCute is not what I was going forâ, you antagonize him on instinct, âmaybe wild, sexy?â
âIt is sexyâ, he lowers himself closer to you and you place a kiss on his nose, another on his cheek, âI donât know about wild thoughâ and you bite his cheek. Itâs gentle but still harder than you usually allow yourself. He smiles onto it.
âI can be wildâ, you pout as you let go of his skin and he smiles at you, amused.
âSure, babyâ, the nickname spills out, both of you pretend youâre not affected by it, âmy wild baby mommaâ
âOh my god it does sound badâ, you laugh, taking the bait to change subjects.
âI told you soâ, he places a final kiss on your cheek before pushing himself back, finally sliding out of you to go find a towel to clean you two up.
He takes his time making both of you comfortable and you donât know how he still has the energy to do so, considering he went from a concert to a party to having slow intense sex with you over the last few hours. But he tucks you in with a hoodie and new underwear you didnât even know he had for you at his place, and only slides beside you after also changing into a new pair of boxers and some sweatpants.
You fall asleep holding each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
â
You wake up to the sound of an alarm, a body shifting beside yours.
A grunt leaves your body as you felt your current pillow scooting away to cut the sound coming from the phone, and you reach for him without opening your eyes. Your pillow comes back to you and you snuggle your head on the warm spot again.
âSorryâ, Minhoâs voice is raspy and you move up and down with his chest as he speaks, âI have to get up soonâ
âNooooooâ, you whine, fully hiding your face on him for a moment before giving up and opening your eyes, looking up at your favorite human pillow.
âHeyâ, he smiles fondly at you, a hand coming up to meet your face, adjusting your hair that mustâve been all over the place.
âHow do you look okay?â, you squinted at him, noticing how rested he seemed, âeven I feel hungoverâ
âI didnât drink that muchâ, he states and you have to stop yourself from overanalyzing everything he said last night, when you were sure the alcohol was what made him bold.
âI didnât drink at allâ, is your retort, and Minho kisses your forehead, half as a reassurance, half as a way to hide the smile threatening the corners of his lips.
One of his hands goes over to rest on your bump under the covers, âgood morning to you tooâ, he says, quietly.
A beat goes by in silence before he speaks again.
âItâs kind of crazy that there really is someone in thereâ
âDid you just figure that out now?â, you tease.
âYou know what? Maybeâ, he admits, âfeeling Bun move last night really drove the pointâ
âYou are not calling the baby Bunâ, you detach from your place at his chest to look up at him, âthat is not their nicknameâ.
He opens his mouth to fight back but, as if on cue, his phone dings a few time with messages coming through, and he groans before extending his arm to pick it up. You see that the texts are coming from the Stray Kids group chat but donât try to read them at all, instead choosing to snuggle back to him, enjoying what is bound to be a short lived comfort. His little amused chuckle catches your attention thought, and he turns the phone your way so you can read what heâs seeing.
hwang hyunjin changed the groupâs name to âBun uncle squadâ
A myriad of texts followed, a mixture of confusion from some of the boys, and acknowledgment from the ones that were there when the name was coined.
âMight be too late for thatâ, and you decide to ignore Minho - and the rest of his friends for that matter, and close your eyes again, trying to keep your own mind of attaching the silly name to your dear little bump.
He types away for a while longer and you almost drift off back to sleep, the gentle raising of his chest swaddling you into comfort.
âI really should get upâ, he runs his hand down your back after he finishes replying to the texts, and you groan as a complaint, âare you coming again tonight?â
You had not intended to and he knew it, Bora would not be able to come with as she was also flying back to Japan later today for work, and you didnât feel like going by yourself or worse - with people you didnât really know and had to switch on your more outgoing personality with.
He took your silence as an answer and nudged you so you could look up at him again.
âPlease come?â, Minhoâs hand goes back to your belly, making small circles, âI want to see if they dance againâ
You roll onto your back, hands coming to cover your face, âyou canât just say stuff like thatâ, you groan, as he laughs, knowing that meant he won and youâd be going to see him again.
âJihye couldnât come to the concert yesterday so she will also go alone todayâ, he adds, âYou can hang out with her, I think you guys will get alongâ
You consider the possibility and decides that it doesnât sound too bad. He phones Seungmin to get Jihyeâs contact and share it with you, so you could text her and figure out a way that you two could ride together to the venue.
âSheâs a Lee as well?â you ask, once you get her number.
âYeah, weâre actually relatedâ, he says casually as you finally let him get up, sitting and stretching on the side of the bed, with his back turned at you and therefore completely missing how your mouth is hanging open.
âWhat do you mean sheâs related to you?â
âOur grandmas are cousinsâ, he gets up, still shirtless, to go to his bathroom, but you are so blindsided by the information that you even forget to check him out as you usually would.
âWe didnât really know each other thoughâ, he goes on, his voice a little muffled by the sound of the shower starting to run before he gets in, âonly figured it out once they started going outâ.
Throwing the comforter to the side, you also make your way inside the bathroom, the steam starting to fill the room.
âI canât believe I thought you were dating your cousinâ, you laugh in disbelief, and he matches the sound with his own cackle, opening the shower door so you could step in before him, the two of you wordlessly embracing as if sharing the warm water was a daily occurrence.
Itâs comforting as he allows you to put shampoo on his hair, brushing it to all sides to make silly sculptures. Itâs relaxing as he slides the soap across your back, dropping chaste kisses on your shoulders. Itâs second nature to brush away water from his face, fingers tracing his eyebrows, his high cheekbones, his lips. He hums snippets of songs and you follow along, not caring about getting the lyrics right. Itâs not sexual, but itâs sensual. The care you had for each other showing up on every lingering touch.
And as you step out of the shower, you admit to yourself that this is not casual at all, and that every ounce of self control you had not to fall for your best friend were long thrown out the window.
â
[5:42PM] lee jihye (ksm gf): almost there!!
Jihye picked you up with her car. The girl had also spent the night at the dorms, and Seungminâs place was just a couple blocks away from Minhoâs, so it made it easier to figure out how to meet. You made casual conversation on the way to where the concert was taking place, and you were glad to find out she also had a calm personality, the worry over needing to keep your energy up all night slowly melting away.
She told you about how she was still studying to be a doctor, how she met Seungmin, how she usually led a very private and quiet life, and the whirlwind that had been the few months they had been together so far. You ended up sharing that you had believed the rumors at first, and was relieved to hear her laugh alongside your story.
Minho was right, the two of you did get along.
As you arrived at the venue, you found yourselves being guided to a different area than the previous day, a bit further away from the main stage, but more central on the arena.
The show started off smoothly, just like the day before, and you allowed yourself to take more breaks throughout it to sit down, the ache on your lower back a constant reminder of you overdoing it the day before. Just like Minho hoped for, as soon as his solo stage began, your little one started moving as if prompted.
You placed a careful hand on your bump, mentally scolding them for already picking dad as their favorite parent. You were not sure if Minho knew where you were sat this time, but as the final notes of his song hit, you felt as if he was looking directly at you from the center of the stage.
Jihye didnât ask any questions, and you assumed she knew as much as Seungmin did, so when your eyes met after Minho had left the stage and the baby was being particularly active, you silently asked her if she wanted to feel it - and she happily did.
She squealed over how strong they seemed to be, and made sure to ask you a few times through the rest of the concert if you were doing okay, never imposing too much, but making sure you knew she was paying attention. You decided right then and there that if Seungmin and her split up, youâd be keeping her.
It was towards the end of the show when you noticed something was off.
Rare were the times when Minho missed a beat, but as a particular grueling choreography reached its peak, you could tell he was falling a bit behind.
You kept your eyes always on him, and the more you did, the clearer it was that his leg was bothering him. A couple of the members seemed to have caught onto it as well, with Chan and Jisung discreetly checking on him. The fans didnât seem to notice though, and you hoped that your over caring nature was taking the best of you.
But when the members split up in between two carts to go around the venue, Minho got close enough to your session that there was no doubt left on your mind that he was running on adrenaline and stubbornness.
âMinhoâs hurtâ, you whispered to Jihye, trying to not draw attention from the people around you.
She followed your gaze to watch him as well, and squeezed your hand as if to signal you she had heard you.
âItâs probably nothingâ, she kept a steady tone, but the fact that she didnât deny it straight away made you worry even more.
Seungmin found the two of you first, and signaled your position with his head to Minho, sharing the same cart as him. Minho took no time to find your eyes, and you mouthed a âare you hurt?â that he only denied with his head, keeping his movement as discreet as possible.
But you saw the way he was not keeping up with the loose choreography as much, leaning onto the railings of the car to interact with Stay more than he usually did. When they reached the end of the ride, Hyunjin had his arm around his hyung as well, the final confirmation you needed.
They still had a couple more songs to go, but you couldnât stay still, too anxious to be by his side and check on him. Jihye could tell you were antsy and suggested you start heading out backstage before the concert was over, to not need to wait for the crowd to thin out before going to meet the group.
It takes the two of you almost the entirety of the final songs to reach the artistâs area, even with a manager guiding you through the maze of corridors. You see the TVs they place for the staff playing the end of the memberâs ments, but you also see how everyone seems tense, not failing to notice one of the tour doctors on stand by.
âItâs Minho, isnât it?â, you ask the manager that had walked you to the back, and she gave a firm but small nod with her head.
You try to stay out of the way, you really did. But as you hear Chanâs angry voice getting nearer, you start marching onto the corridor to meet them halfway.
Minho has Changbin on one side and Hyunjin on the other, his weigh fully supported by his team members. He locks eyes with you as soon as you turn the corner and by the time youâre close enough to him heâs struggling to keep a reassuring small smile on his face. Chan is still barking orders and hurrying the medical team, and in the midst of the voices around you, you gathered that Minho tripped badly while walking off stage during one of the breaks but insisted he could still go on and finish the concert.
The only member to have witnessed how bad the fall was, was Jeongin, who kept quiet at his hyungâs request. Now the maknae was also being scolded about it though, and you did your best to not look his way either, as to not show how pissed off you actually were.
You stood by the sidelines as the medical team positioned Minho in a way they could examine him, and flinched with him as he hissed and groan through the pain. His hand reaching out at your direction, your body reacting by stepping closer and placing both of your hands on his, who squeezed you immediately.
âWe need to get you to a hospitalâ, the medical staff reached the conclusion and Minhoâs head fell back in annoyance. You squeeze his hand again, trying to convey a silent scolding.
The managers talk it over to the corner, giving you a couple of minutes alone with him. The rest of the members had scattered to meet their other guests, doing their best to mask the situation about Minhoâs injury. You gently slap his shoulder, still standing beside him, whoâs sitting on a wheelchair now.
âYou shouldâve stepped downâ, you say quietly, fighting the urge to comfort him by letting your annoyance show instead.
âIt was the last concert, I did okayâ, he sounds exhausted, âitâs just a sprained ankle, it happened beforeâ
âYou always do okayâ, you soften your voice, âbut you couldâve gotten seriously hurtâ
âBut I didnâtâ
âYou donât know that yetâ, you push back
âI would already be at the hospital if they thought it was seriousâ, he looked around at the managers still scattering to figure out the best way to take him there without being noticed, âtheyâre just doing it to be safeâ, he rolls his eyes.
âWell they betterâ, you were about to keep nagging him when a manager signaled that youâd be leaving soon.
âCome with me?â, his voices the request as if there was any way you could possibly leave his side now. You nod and step aside so they can start wheeling him out, taking him on a cart through a series of paths youâre not sure you passed before.
You helped him get in and out of the car, ignoring his protests as he was clearly in a lot more pain now that his body was not warm from the stage anymore.
As he was taken in for the doctor to examine and x-ray his leg, you were left alone at the waiting room, texting his parens about his current location - as you knew he was meant to meet them up for dinner after the concert was over. His mom was worried but glad that you were with him, and you promised to keep them updated. Youâre still replying to their questions when a familiar voice calls your name.
âY/n? Is that you?â, you look up to see your doctor, having completely overlooked the fact that you were just at a different wing of the hospital you have been frequenting to check up on your baby.
âOh hi Dr. Seonâ, you start getting up to politely bow but she waves you off.
âIs everything okay?â, she asks carefully, looking around to see if there was anyone with you.
âYeah, my uhhâŠâ, you hesitated. Friend didnât sound quite right, and baby daddy would raise the questions you so far managed to avoid when visiting your doctor, âIâm just waiting for someoneâ, you settled.
âNothing serious, I hope?â, you nod your head while smiling, not trusting yourself to say the wrong thing. This was the type of situation where you had to be mindful of Minho being a public persona, âwell thatâs good then, did you get-â, sheâs cut off from finishing her question as he comes back, still on a wheelchair, with one of his managers coming along. They both give her small bows while you turn your full attention to the arriving pair.
âIs he okay?â, you ask the manager directly, not trusting Minho to reply honestly.
âHe has to be quiet this weekâ, he eyes Minho sternly, as if this was the end of a previous discussion, âand go through physical therapy for a couple more weeks, but heâll liveâ
Minho rolls his eyes, âstop talking about me as if Iâm not hereâ
âStop pulling stupid stunts like that and we mightâ, you say back, not bothering to look down at him but still taking his hand in yours when he reaches for you, âSorry Dr. Seon, this is-â
Minho recognizes the name and fully switches his attention to your previous conversation partner.
âLee Minhoâ, he bows again, and she reciprocates. The manager scatters off to fill in some paperwork left and you awkwardly shift on your feet, not sure on how to proceed with the conversation.
âI hope you get well soonâ, your doctor politely points to his leg, now inside a thick orthopedic boot.
âThis is nothingâ, he smiles at her, and you squeeze his hand again so he stops downplaying his hurt, âYouâre Y/nâs doctor, right?â
Dr. Seon sneaks a glance at you before confirming it.
You had mentioned to her before that you were very private and was not sharing about your pregnancy with many people yet. She never asked about who the babyâs father might be, and you were grateful to not have to lie about it to her. You also never took anyone in with you for your appointment, going either alone or having Minhoâs mom wait outside while you went in for your regular check ups.
âDo you think you can check on y/n while weâre here?â, you widen your eyes at his bold request, immediately jumping into an apologetic stance to make sure your doctor didnât take any disrespect in that.
âOf course, I just finished my shift here and was about to go back to the maternity wing anywayâ, she smiles at the two of you, making it a point to rest her eyes on your interlocked fingers before giving you a wink, âif youâre okay with waiting a few minutes for me, Iâll come find you guysâ
âActually, can we maybe wait inside a room?â, he pushes, but now you know heâs worried about getting recognized if he hangs out on the waiting area for much longer. Even with a mask and a beanie covering most of his face, he was still a very recognizable person, specially with the lightly colored hair he was sporting.
The manager gets back and Minho assures him youâd be able to drive the two of you back, so you exchange pleasantries, figure out where theyâd bring his car to, and follow a nurse to a different hospital wing and into a room you were already familiar with, Minho staying in his wheelchair while you took a sit on the examination table as you had a few times before.
Minhoâs eyes are darting all over the room, at the machines he has never seen before, the pictures scattered around depicting different stages of a pregnancy, the wall of baby photos at a corner - showing what you assumed were all the previous patients of your doctor.
âA bit intense, right?â, you pull his attention and he wheels himself closer to you, âit took me a while to get used to it tooâ
âIâm sorry I wasnât here with youâ, he places a hand right above your knee and you rest yours on top of his, a quiet reassurance.
âWell, you are nowâ, your smile honestly, âso please take care of yourself, alright?â, your eyes darting to his hurt foot.
He rubs circles on your leg and goes quiet, deciding on his next words.
âDid they dance?â, you look at him quizzically, and he adds, âat the concert, did Bun dance again?â, and he points to your bump.
Youâre stunned into silence and he avoids your eyes, sensing how the gears are turning inside your head, âyou did not push yourself to be on stage just so the baby could kickâ.
His shy smile gives it away.
âMinho!â, you slap his hand away from you, âyouâre unbelievableâ
âWellâ, he continues, ignoring the clear disapproval on your tone, âdid they?â
You frown at him before looking away defeated, âyes they didâ
He smiles brightly, his hand going to fully rest on your belly now.
âI knew they wouldâ, his thumb brushes up and down and it takes you all your might to not completely melt under his touch.
Your doctor chooses that moment to walk in, taking a brief pause at the door as she eyes the way Minho has his hand possessively on you, and smiles knowingly, keeping her best professional stance as she winks at you and walks over to the table to help you adjust.
She goes through the same questions as aways, ignoring your repeated apologies at the late hour and the spontaneous appointment you sprung on her. You had a sonogram scheduled for 4 days later, so she assures you over and over that this was actually saving her time, as she was already at the hospital on call anyway, and it was a quiet evening.
Minho takes this moment to ask all of the questions he has as well, but your doctor is patient with him, and you have to swallow 10 more apologies on his behalf before you finally get to the part where you have to lay down so she can first feel around your bump to then spread around the cold gel needed for the ultrasound.
You can feel Minho buzzing in anticipation beside you as she starts moving the machinery around your belly, finding the best view of your baby. When she turns her monitor to you, their little face and shape are even clearer than last time. You can now make out their hands and the bend of their legs. As she moves the device around, you get a glimpse of their feet and thatâs what finally brings tears to your eyes again.
Minhoâs hand is on yours immediately, and you canât bring yourself to look at him, too mesmerized by the sight of your little baby. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, trying very hard to keep his own emotions in check.
âSo those are the weapons of destructionâ, you try to joke but your voice sounds muffled even to your own ears.
As if they heard you, Minhoâs spawn kicks you up, right through your ribs, you let out an âoofâ before turning to your doctor.
âI swear theyâre trying to mince my internal organsâ, and she laughs at you, guaranteeing that itâs completely normal, and itâs good that your baby seems to be so active now.
She checks measurements and moves the view around a few more times before speaking again, âwould you guys like to know the gender?â
You suck in a breath and Minho ceases the movement of his hand, that had been playing with your fingers the whole time. You finally turn to look at him, trying to gouge how he felt about the question. He mirrors your expression and heâs not giving up, letting the decision fall to you.
âI kind of want toâŠâ, you start, voice small and uncertain, giving him time to stop you.
âOh thank goodnessâ, he lets out a relieved breath before realizing he expressed too much and widening his eyes, his hands resuming the movement on yours, âIâd be okay not knowing if thatâs what you wanted but I really really want to knowâ
You chuckle fondly before giving you doctor a thumbs up, and as she changes the view of her monitor one final time, she smiles big at you guys.
âIt seems like youâre having a healthy little girl!â
You look to Minho in time to see his eyes well up with tears, and reach out to stroke his face, with him leaning into your touch.
The silence sets in and your doctor steps out to give you a minute by yourselves, but no words are enough and the quiet seems more fitting for the moment.
You clean yourself up from the ultrasound gel and when you two step - and roll - outside, she once again hands you a couple printed copies of your new sonogram and lets you know sheâll e-mail all the rest, as well as getting in contact for your next appointment.
Thereâs no trouble getting his car keys left by the manager at the reception or finding the car on the parking lot, and you help him get in on the passenger side before driving out and starting to make your way back home.
âCan I sleep at yours?â, he breaks the silence.
âSureâ, you agree straight away.
âItâs just that I donât want to be scolded anymore todayâ, he adds, as if he needs to keep explaining himself.
âBold of you to assume Iâm done scolding youâ, you donât need to look at him to imagine the indignant look on his face.
âBut it all worked outâ, he insists.
âBy worked out you mean youâre wearing a silly boot and going to physical therapy right before your comebackâ, you sneak a look to his face when you stop at a red light.
âYeah, but because of that we know that Bunâs a girlâ, he smile brightly, no shame at all. You canât help how your lips try to form a smile.
âYouâre impossibleâ, you look back to the road, partially because thatâs how you drive safely, but partially to try and hide the fondness on your face, âwe could have waited a few more days. Also, stop calling her Bunâ
âMaybeâ, he gives in, and you donât try to understand if he means the waiting or the nickname, but doesnât bother deciphering it as you knew it was pointless.
The silence stretches on again, and you allow your mind to wonder for what the future held before an overwhelming realization hits you.
âOh my god sheâs not even born yet and youâre already her favoriteâ, you mumble in horror.
He studies your face but is clear that he finds the affirmation amusing.
âIâm not her favoriteâ, his voice is soft, tempting.
âBut you are!â, your pitch goes high, âshe started moving for you, I can tell she likes you best, sheâs literally inside of me, trust me on thisâ
âI donât think thatâs itâ, he usually matches your dramatics, but this time he keeps his tone kind. You sneak another look at him, heâs keeping his eyes on the road as well, a small smile gracing his lips, âshe just knows how to have me wrapped around her finger alreadyâ
Just like her mom, he completes, in thought.
> a/n | Oof this was a long one... Can anyone guess what was happening out in the real world when I was writing this? lol (it was the MAMAs, btw). Inspiration is everywhere, I guess, but also Minho better never get hurt again because it hurts my soul. I can't wait to read what you guys think about this one, I'm never confident on writing fluff (or smut, if I'm honest), so this fic is a little bit of a writing challenge for myself, and I'm always happy to listen to your thoughts on it!
> taglist is open!
> A/N |Â a late happy 8th anniversary to stray kids!!
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08. itâs always more fun when youâre there
You were way too old and tired to be up at 3am on a wild goose chase down social media rabbit holes and yet it was exactly where you found yourself that evening.
The first image dropped right before you went in to take a shower after a very long day at work. Morning sickness was finally behind you and the nausea only hit you now at very specific times, usually by your body stabbing you in the back and deciding it now hated some food you had loved all your life. But other than that you had an okay sleeping schedule again, and having both Minho and Bora finally on the same timezone as you helped wonderfully.
So why oh why were you ruining it by looking at online gossip now?
Minho had been the perfect friend turned co-parent you could have wished for. After those first couple of days of having him back, you stablished all the limits you needed to adhere to and were good at following them. Did you still think about his body under you? Of course, specially now that your hormones went from making you cry all the time to making you horny all the time. But you were a pro at self control.
So why were you feeling betrayed by seeing a very blurry photo of Minho with some other woman?
The internet went crazy over it as well, since there was no denying that it was indeed him, specially now that he had dyed his hair a lighter color. The photo was nothing special, he had his arm on her back as they made their way inside a restaurant. You couldnât see her face but she didnât seem to be anyone you knew.
And it was driving you insane.
You didnât agree to not see other people. On the contrary, you explicitly told him he should go out and meet new people if he wanted to, as long as you had the last say on when they met your future child. And you even knew what day that photo was taken, remembering the jacket he had on as he left your apartment for what he told you was just a dinner with a few friends.
But there were no other friends on the images and all the âanonymous sourcesâ online only mentioned Minho and the mysterious woman being there.
So there you were, middle of the night, going through all of your mutual friends instagram accounts and scrolling twitter to see if you could find any more information on who the girl might have been, instead of just texting him about it like a normal person.
You didnât even notice falling asleep but as your alarm went off the next morning you cursed yourself and all the generations before you for allowing the world to be a place where you need to set an alarm and go to work every day.
There was barely enough time for you to change and brush your teeth before going out, and you started to say a silent thank you to Minho for allowing you to keep his car a little longer when you remembered he was actually the reason that you felt like shit and was running late - for more reasons than just being pregnant with his baby.
When you plopped yourself on your desk, Seoyun turned to tell you good morning but stopped herself as she noticed your sour expression.
âAll good today, honey?â, she was putting on her sweet mother tone and you knew it, which only annoyed you further. Would you have a sweet mother tone at some point as well? Should you start practicing? Was this another thing you should buy a book for? You huffed in response and she rolled her chair across the isle you two shared, bringing herself closer to your desk.
People at work now knew you were pregnant. At a little over 5 months your bump was now noticeable enough that you felt it was best to just come clean about it. Your boss was surprisingly very chill, going straight into scheduling a meeting with HR to figure out your time off and next steps. Your supervisor, however, took the news as a sign that he should pile up as much work on top of you as possible, to make up for the time youâd eventually be away. So thank goodness for Seoyun, who had been helping you not drown under all the responsibilities being placed over your shoulders.
With that in mind, you took a deep breath in to calm yourself down before replying.
âYeah, just didnât sleep much last nightâ, you had just turned on your computer to start working and was about to get up to grab a coffee when you remembered the doctor asked you to cut on that as well, so you closed your eyes to stop a new wave of rage.
âIs the little one kicking your ass?â, she asks, a sprinkle of humor on her eyes, not knowing she had hit another sour spot for you.
The doctor had told you youâd start feeling the baby move soon. And sometimes you almost convinced yourself that you did, little flutters under your skin that you were not even sure had happened or not. But nothing that you could for sure say, with 100% certainty, was a kick.
So you were on edge.
You replied with a vague grunt and she took the hint that it was best to just leave you alone for a couple more hours.
And that worked. You managed to turn your focus to the tasks you had set for the day, going over a new presentation, preparing for a meeting, even looking through some of the resumes your boss had forwarded you, trying to find the new intern you were supposed to hire and train before your maternity leave.
You took your lunch break on the cafeteria and was about to head back to your desk when you heard a couple of your coworkers from a different team whisper-laughing at something on their phones. You usually would not pay any attention to that, but suddenly you heard Minhoâs name and you couldnât help yourself but to slow your pace to try and catch their conversation.
âA friend of mine went to school with herâ, one was saying, and you could see an article about the dating scandal you saw last night opened on her phone, âshe said the girl was so quiet sheâd never expect her to pull someone like himâ
Their laughs were what snapped you out of your trance, and you resumed your route back to your desk, with a detour to the restroom.
As you washed your hands, one of the women that was at the gossipy table came in, taking off her glasses to clean them and bowing politely at you before entering a booth. A couple more followed her, one of them someone youâve worked with at a project before.
âHi! Y/n, right?â, you remember her being nice.
âYeah, hi Dayaâ, the smile didnât quite reach your eyes, but she was too busy reapplying her make up to notice, âhowâs the new team treating you?â
âOh all goodâ, she chirped happily, âalthough I wish I had more time to follow my true passionsâ
âHer true passion is wasting money on kpop groupsâ, her friend added, some new girl with very long dark hair you still had not been introduced too.
âItâs an investment!â, Daya didnât seem bothered at all by her friendâs teasing.
Their third friend, the one that went in first, stepped out of the booth and took a place by the empty sink to your left, making you stand between the group.
âSheâs just excited one of her favorite idols is dating a normal girlâ, she added while washing her hands as well.
âOh?â, you feigned innocence, trying to contain how much you wanted to know more about what they were gossiping about.
Daya rolled her eyes at her friends before continuing, âdo you know Stray Kids?â
âYeah, I mean, theyâre pretty popularâ, you did your best to keep your voice leveled.
âOne of them is dating this normal ass girlâ, the long haired one added.
âI wouldnât say sheâs normalâ, Daya defended, before turning to you, phone already lit up with an instagram page open, âsheâs kinda gorgeousâ
Her screen gave you access to the private account of a, admittedly, very gorgeous girl, and you ignored the jealousy surging in your heart as you stepped closer to take a better look.
She had very few pictures posted, but in all of them you could see her pretty smile. She was sporting very girly dresses in all of them, hair always perfectly styled.
âHow do you know thatâs her?â, you allowed yourself to wonder, doing your best to not sound too eager, âarenât idols really private about this sort of stuff?â
âI mean, yeahâ, Daya locked her phone and looked up at you as if suddenly remembering something, âplease donât share this!â, you nodded your head in agreement and the girl breathed out, relieved, âsheâs a friend of a friend, we hung out a few timesâ
âBut are you sure about it?â
âPretty sureâ, Daya frowned her nose, âshe barely posts anything but sheâs been soft launching her boyfriend on her stories for the past few weeks, and the timeline matches when the group came back from tour so-â
âYou sound like a stalkerâ, the girl with glasses pointed out.
âNot a stalker!â, Daya dramatically brought a hand to her chest, âjust observant!â she looked back at the mirror to finish adjusting her hair, âand besides, it gives us normal everyday girls a little hopeâ.
It was your turn to look in the mirror, and your reflection almost brought tears to your eyes. The girls said their goodbyes and left the restroom, still happily chatting away, too caught up on teasing each other to notice your defeated expression. You stayed frozen in place, overanalyzing every single line around your face.
You had no time to put on any make up that morning, and your hair looked dry and dead. The bags under your eyes gave it away how little you had slept, and you were just noticing a mysterious stein on the collar of your shirt. You felt tired and silly for being jealous, but most of all angry at yourself for prying. Now you had a face to place to the woman and it was so pretty you felt like breaking something. But of course she would be pretty, Minho only deserved pretty.
What he once saw in you, all those months ago, was beyond you.
You knew he could get anyone he wanted and just settled for sleeping with you out of it being a comfortable and safe agreement. Well, not so safe after all but still, there was no way of knowing that this would be the outcome back then.
And now that he was no longer sleeping with you, it made sense heâd go back into dating cool hot people again.
You looked through your purse to find an old lipstick you never really liked and applied it to your lips and cheeks, trying to make yourself more presentable. But the longer you stared at your reflection, the more you felt like a clown, remembering how unflattering that color was to your complexion. You felt the tears fighting their way out but you were better at containing them now, focusing on your rage instead of feeling miserable for yourself.
As you found the courage to make your way back to your desk, you opened up the map of the area around your office to find a hair salon nearby, calling and scheduling a visit for the next day.
You knew that what you were feeling was not logical at all, but your self esteem could use a boost and your hair really was looking terrible, even on a good day.
So instead of letting yourself spiral any longer you did the next best thing; searched for short hairstyles on the internet, planning on chopping your long strands off the very next day.
â
âI canât believe how hot you lookâ, it was the fourth or fifth time Bora said something along those lines.
She was sitting on your bed a few days later, covered from head to toe in glitter, sporting a cool all black outfit under all the sparkle, looking as much as a kpop idol as you ever saw her. You knew she had access to the same stylists as they worked with, but to see her fully made up still felt like a shock to you, specially with how her usual attire was made out of funky graphic tees and an impressive collection of colorful sweatpants.
âYou can stop saying that nowâ, you stepped out of your bathroom, a lot more glitter on than you usually allowed yourself, but Bora would not let you out of the house before you at least tried to match her energy.
You, however, had chosen a more modest outfit, some loose fabric pants you could still comfortably fit in and an oversized tour merch t-shirt you had asked Felix to send you, a bit embarrassed about asking Minho for it. You had not specified which type of tour merch beyond it being something black though, so it should not have surprised you that Felix picked out one with Leebit at the front. You had only opened the package he gave you a few hours before you had to start getting ready, so there was no time to think of a plan b. You chose your coolest combat boots and accessorized with every single silver jewelry you had, trying to make the fit look cooler instead of lazy, and refraining from thinking about how cheesy it seemed to plaster Minhoâs skzoo equivalent across your pregnant belly.
Your new short hair was loose and wild, your natural texture coming through now that you chopped off all the extra length and dead tips. Bora had added glitter to your roots and you did your make up to keep the glittery-edgy vibe going, with darker eyes and shimmery highlighter.
âIâm not used to you not looking, I donât knowâ, Bora paused, picking her next words carefully, âwholesome? Put together?â, none seemed right but you understood where she was coming from.
As a young kid you were more of a tomboy, and through your early teens you hid your figure under big clothes that felt familiar to your dancer friends. You blended in. In college you kept your style modest, but adopted a simpler look, sticking to solid colors and fitted pieces that felt professional, something that made you feel like a trustworthy girl who could get the job done, even as a recent graduate.
But the shorter hair gave you the confidence boost you needed, after all, and you managed to contain yourself over the past week, not looking up any new information on Minhoâs maybe girlfriend. You kept your jealousy at bay, which was good, considering you were about to see him for the first time since the news broke out, and at a very public space at that.
lee minho (stray kids) is callingâŠ
Bora took one look at your phone lightning up beside her and picked it up before you said she could, pressing the speaker button straight away.
âY/n is too busy being the hottest person alive at the moment, do you want to leave a message?â, she put on a fake secretary accent, winking your way as you shook your head in amusement and turned to pick a bag to take with you.
âHi Boraâ, you could hear the fond annoyance on his voice, ânice to hear from you againâ
You knew Bora was being specially difficult to Minho ever since going all aunt-mode on you, making sure to keep him on his toes. As she relentlessly repeated, âone wrong step and heâs out, and Iâll fulfill my destiny as a father figureâ.
âCanât say the sameâ, her words were harsh but her tone was soft, no truth in them.
âAre you guys ready? Manager-nim just told me the car should be there at any minute now, the driver has your passesâ, you could hear the hustle on the back, loud voices that you knew would become louder the closer it got to them going on stage.
âWeâll wait for him outside, Minâ, you took the phone from your friend, âtell him weâll be down in five minutesâ
âWill do! See you guys in a bit!â, you almost forgot how annoyed you still were at him, hearing how happy he sounded that his friends would finally be able to see the tour heâd been devoting his life to for most of the year.
Bora could contain herself all the way out the door and down the elevator. You could tell she was almost exploding of curiosity when the two of you stepped outside, no car yet in sight.
âDo you think heâs really dating someone?â, she blurted out, and you couldnât help but chuckle.
âI honestly donât knowâ, you confessed, but shared with her what the other girls at work were saying earlier that week.
âLike I know youâre cool with thatâ, and you rolled your eyes, knowing where the conversation was going, âbut it must be weird that your baby daddy is going out and getting himself a girlfriendâ
âItâs his right, Bora, itâs not as if heâs cheating on me or anything like thatâ, you waved at the dark SUV approaching, letting them know where you were.
âBut even for the other girl, do you think he told her about you?â, she opened the door for you to go in first, and you signed for her to keep herself quiet now that you had other people hearing, âI just canât wrap my head around itâ, she whispered, stopping the conversation at that.
The rest of the way to the stadium theyâd be performing at was a silent one, the driver didnât say much and the radio was on, playing the most well known songs of the moment at a low volume. As you made your way down the private parking lot, the man behind the wheel handed the two of you a couple of stage passes and signaled where you should go, finding another manager already waiting to take you to your sits.
The VIP area was crowded with familiar faces, be it some old friends you had not seen in a while but Minho and Bora kept in touch with, family members of the other members, and even some celebrity friends that you were good at avoiding but had to say polite âhelloâsâ with Bora, your choreographer friend having worked with quite a few of them before. Your sits were good ones, separate from the general crowd but still not that far high up, close enough to the stage in a way that you could easily see everything that would happen - and that allowed for the members to spot all the people they had invited to see their show as well.
You knew this would be a longer concert as well, and as excited as you were, you were happy to be able to sit in between performances to rest your feet, who recently gained the habit of becoming swollen and aching, even if you were not standing for long.
It was still day when the music began, cueing a plethora of dancers to come up on stage and set the mood, doing an instrumental medley of some of the groupâs more famous songs before they themselves made their way up the stage.
And that was when you forgot everything. You forgot your sore body constantly making you uncomfortable, forgot how mad you still were at Minho for not telling you he had a girlfriend, forgot how tired you were over the long hours at work. You allowed yourself to have fun, to sing along to the songs that you loved beyond just being a supportive friend. You always liked songs that could get you hyped up so you were particularly glad that that was the direction your best friendâs music leaned into, never once having had to just pretend that you liked one of his groupâs song.
Hyunjin was the first to spot you from the stage, going wide eyed as he noticed your new haircut. He motioned his own hair quickly and gave you thumbs up, and you smiled brightly back at him. Changbin was next, noticing first his family, sitting on the row above you, and then you, again pointing at his own hair and mouthing a âlookâs good!â before bringing the mic back to his mouth to sing his part without missing a single beat.
When Felix noticed you he waved a quick hi before turning to Minho and grabbing his attention, pointing at where the two of you were sitting. The younger one whispered something to him while also making the short hair motion the other members had done, so Minho squinted while looking at the crowd, doing his best to find you under the extremely bright lights. He froze when he did, a shy smile making its way to your lips.
âWhen?â, he mouthed, directly at you, and you just gave him a shrug of your shoulders. Bora practically jumped in front of you to wave at him and you could see him faking annoyance as he waved back, only to start jumping to the other side of the stage, meeting the rest of the boys for a dance break.
You were halfway through the concert when you first felt it.
Jisung was finishing his solo set and Minho was about to walk in for his. You could put that down as a coincidence but at that point you were starting to question if you even believed in anything other than fate.
As the first notes hit your ears, the familiar flutter you thought you felt a few times before made you reach for your bump, hand placed just to the right of your bellybutton.
Then it came back, a little rougher. A sharper nod on a specific point.
This is so weird. You could still hear Minhoâs voice on the stage, but all other sound disappeared. The cheers, the music, all gone. It was just his voice on your mind, the soundtrack to your babyâs first real kick.
Bora, not noticing that your attention was elsewhere, grabbed your arm excitedly as Minho made his way closer to your side of the stage again, this time finding you without any trouble. As he locked eyes with you, he quickly pointed, singing brightly your way, and you had no choice but to sing the words back to him, the lyrics so familiar to you from when he first released it.
As the kicks inside your belly grew more frequent, you had a hard time paying attention to the rest of the show. And what started as a wonderful feeling, quickly became another discomfort as your little one seemed to be aiming directly at your lungs from inside your ribs. But you made it through the rest of the concert, and as the music ceased so did the harsher movements from inside your bump.
You were caught in the swarms of people mingling on their way backstage to meet with the group, chatting with this and that person, giving Minhoâs parents a quick hug as they were pulled into conversation with other memberâs parents, thanking the heavens you had agreed to keep Minhoâs involvement in your current condition a secret for a little longer, avoiding the swarm of moms that were sure to find you once they all knew.
The big crowd started thinning out as you found your way through a maze of backstage rooms, the adrenaline of the show winding down, making you remember that you really should have made more use of the chairs, your lower back starting to bother you. You knew the boys were somewhere close by, as you started to hear their excited voices and the family-and-friends crowd slowly dispersing, a lot of people leaving once they said hi and took a few pictures.
Bora met up with a few of her dancer friends and pointed to where she was heading, you gave her a silent thumbs up and found a corner in one of the rooms where you could lean against the wall, hoping that a chair was somewhere in your near future. You heard a loud âYA LEE MINHOâ that sounded like Bora and could tell he was being teased by the people with her as well. His laugh floated into the room before he did, and as if the baby could already tell, they started going haywire inside you once again, the surprise movement making you bend a little, hands on your belly as a particular hard kick hit your bladder.
Your eyes were closed so you didnât see when Minho stepped in, noticed you straight away, and took maybe two or three very long steps to cross the entire distance between the two of you, his smile wiped out of his face in an instant.
âHey, hey, you okay? Whatâs wrong?â, he placed his hands on your arms and you completely forgot that you were mad at him at all for most of the week.
âYeah, just-â, you straightened up, picking one of his hands with your own and bringing it to your stomach, on the exact place your baby seemed to be relentlessly kicking. The little asshole picked that moment to cease all movement, and you frowned as you looked down again, a confused look now on both yours and Minhoâs face.
âShould I be-â, and as soon as Minho opened his mouth the kick hit you so hard you could feel it in your palm even with Minhoâs hand in between yours and your belly. His eyes went fully wide and he looked up to find yours again, pure awe shining through to you, âwas thatâŠ?â
You nodded, not even trying to contain a smile.
Minho kneeled down in front of you, placing both hands now on your belly, and you redirected one of them, helping him find the places the baby has been kicking you non stop.
âHey little one, can you do that again?â, he whispers directly at your belly, and the tiny menace obeys immediately, with another kick right to where their dad had his hand, âthatâs so weirdâ, Minho looks up at you, a bigger smile than you had ever seen before.
âIt started during the concertâ, you brush away some of the hair covering his eyes, âitâs like they knew they had to danceâ
Minho stands up again to stand at your eye level.
âDoes it hurt?â, one of his hand remained where the baby kept moving, but the other moved to find your arm, a gentle squeeze as he posed the question. Any remaining annoyance you were harboring at him just melted away.
âNot reallyâ, you shrugged, and felt his hand sliding up, leaving your skin only to find it again with his knuckles brushing your cheek, his fingers putting your now short hair behind your ear.
âThis is newâ, his voice was soft, his eyes traveling all over your face, searching to see if there was anything else different besides your hair.
You had the sudden urge to just tell him everything. How low your self esteem had been recently, how you were annoyed he didnât tell you that he was seeing someone, how hurt you were that you had to read about it on the internet first. How much you missed your best friend.
He had been so good about making himself present. He went to your house just to cook most days of the week, you went out together for walks or some light exercises whenever your free times aligned, you even visited him at the company while he was practicing a couple of times. But now that he was physically near, and you had his constant presence back in your life through more than just texts and video calls, you needed more. And whenever you thought about it you just felt greedy, he was preparing hard and you would never get in the way of his job, but whenever he left your house after a couple stolen hours of catching up, you went to bed feeling low and defeated, silently craving his warmth by your side.
As you were about to open your mouth and probably ruin his mood by oversharing your current self loathing headspace, loud voices approached and you looked over his shoulder to see Chan, Hyunjin and Jeongin walking in.
âY/n!!!â, Hyunjin walked straight to you, arms already open to engulf you in a hug, and Minho stepped aside to allow his dancer friend to take his place. As soon as you wrapped your arms around Hyunjin to hug him back, another kick hit you from the inside, right on the center of your belly.
âOw?â, Hyunjin stepped back, having felt it as well, and looked at you at armâs length distance, a betrayed look on his face, âwhat was that?â
You pointed down to your bump, knowing full well that not only it was not big enough for people to notice it straight away, but also that your oversized shirt was doing a good job of masking it.
âBaby decided they want to be a dancer tooâ, you smiled, seeing his eyes widen as he turned to look to his other members in the room.
âGuys there really is someone in there!â he excitedly waved at you, drawing the others attention.
Chan stepped in, a huge smile on his face, his hand slowly extending towards you, âcan I?â
You give him a nod and guides his hand to the same place the baby had just been moving and, after a couple of seconds building expectation, the tiny dancer did indeed move again, Chanâs dimples now on full display. He looked first at Minho, who was standing beside you just observing the exchange with a little proud smile on his face, and then searched the room for the final boy.
âJeongin-ah, come here!â, the leader waves the maknae closer.
âNo, thank youâ, he was smiling but kept his distance, âthatâs too weird for meâ
âYa, thatâs my kid youâre talking about!â Minho playfully fights back, taking a step towards his younger member. Jeongin, in turn, did nothing but wink at you before doubling down.
âSorry hyung but it looks like y/n is carrying a Leebit, itâs too freakishâ he points to the design on your shirt and you facepalm dramatically, playing along.
âI knew I shouldâve been more specific when asking Yongbok to pick me some merchâ
âI think itâs cuteâ, Hyunjin says, âyou have a little bun in thereâ
âOh thatâs cuteâ, Chan adds before you can protest, âlike a bun in the oven but also a Bunny, good oneâ
The two members in front of you high five each other and you look away, feigning annoyance but still playing along.
âPlease donât put images in my head, Iâm already having nightmares as is, if I think Iâll birth a bunny hybrid Iâll never sleep againâ, you comment, to which the rest of the boys protested on your babyâs behalf.
The small group changes subjects quickly, asking about the concert, a movie you said you watched, a restaurant you should try, all the while both Chan and Hyunjin try feeling the baby move again but it seemed that they had finally gotten tired of entertaining the group.
You hear the rest of the boys nearby and start making your way to say hello to them as well, the members trailing ahead while Minho fell in by your side, taking your hand in his to keep you close by.
âThereâs an afterparty todayâ, he whispers in your ear as the group starts separating, some of the members going to finally shower and change, whilst their friends and family slowly file out, most likely headed to said afterparty.
âDonât you still have the final concert tomorrow?â, you ask, already thinking about how you would make your way home.
âYeah, but Felix and Jisung are flying out right after, so weâre having the party todayâ
âSo youâll all be hangover for the last showâŠâ, you raised an eyebrow at him.
âWouldnât be the first timeâ, he smiles sheepishly back at you, âand anyway we only have to be at the venue at like 4pm for soundcheck, weâll surviveâ
âIf you say soâ, you search for Bora, trying to will her to look back at you so you could signal it was your time to go.
âDonât you want to come?â, Minho squeezed your fingers, bringing your attention back to him.
âI donât think Iâd be too much funâ, you pointedly look at your belly.
âItâs always more fun when youâre thereâ, he lowers his voice, a confession to be kept between the two of you, and you canât find it within yourself a way to deny him.
âI have to ask Bora but if she says-â, youâre cut by a loud voice and it takes you a second to place it, but as you turn towards the sound you see Bora, Hyunjin and a couple of dancers clearly in the middle of a heated debate.
âOh itâs so onâ, is the last thing you hear your best friend saying before she turns to you, âY/n donât let me drink too much, I have to beat their assesâ, and she points back to her group, signaling specially a very offended looking Hyunjin.
âI guess you have your answerâ, Minho chuckles as you roll your eyes, knowing full well there was no stopping Bora once she had an idea in mind - specially if that idea was competition fueled.
> a/n | I originally planned on posting this on march 25th but fun fact thatâs my birthday too so time kind of slipped away from me hehe as always, thanks for reading, see you soooooon :)
> taglist is open!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, mentions of puking and other pregnancy symtoms (nothing graphic), smut, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), pregnant sex (it results in this!!!), tight riding, oral (m receiving), MDNI.
>Â ttots masterlist
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07. I don't call you stupid that much
Minho would be back in two days.
Minho would be back in two days and you couldnât find a single pair of jeans that still fit around your waist comfortably.
It happened just a week before. You were putting on some leggings to go for a walk on a rare day off - one where the morning sickness gave you a break and allowed you to feel rested - and the fabric felt a bit too snug on your stomach. As you positioned yourself in front of the mirror, turning from side to side, you could finally see the way your lower stomach curved out, if only just slightly. You lost track of time as you positioned your hands around the tiny bump, trying to guess how big the baby it carried might be about now.
However, over the next few days, you were growing more and more frustrated whenever having to get ready. Most of the dress pants and long skirts you favored for work were still okay, but a few of your bras were making you uncomfortable, and no jeans seemed to have made the cut.
You knew you would have to shop eventually, but visiting the motherhood isle of the clothing store was a step you were not ready to brave. Bora would also be visiting soon and she was so excited to go shopping with you, you figured your clothes would still last you the summer and you could wait for her.
The plan for the day was to find a little frame where you could fit the sonogram you had from your last appointment. Just a small gift to leave at Minhoâs place for when he got back. You intended on driving there tomorrow anyway to drop back his car, so you could use the opportunity to plant the present for him to find. You were not sure wether thatâd be something he would like, but as cheesy as it seemed, you wanted him to have something physical of the baby as well, since you were the one carrying them all the time.
Before you knew it, you had made the detour on the shopping street you were passing through and walked into a bigger clothing store, just browsing the pants session, you promised yourself.
You ended up picking up a few options of jeans that seemed like theyâd fit a bit more loosely but, unsure, you decided you should try them on to be sure the size would not be too close to your actual size - meaning theyâd stop fitting soon. And it just happened that the fitting room was just on the other side of the kidâs clothing session.
And why did they have such cute baby shoes?
You managed to avoid the temptation before walking into the booth to try the pants, but while inside your mind kept going back to a particular pair you had spotted. So as soon as a few pants were picked as winners, you stepped out and made a beeline for the baby shoes.
They were too cute not to bring with you.
Tiny little socks in the shape of shoes, with bunny ears sticking up. So very soft and in a very neutral off white color.
You ended up visiting a few more stores to find the perfect frame and a good gift box to put it in, and tried your best not to overthink the gift giving decision. If he didnât like it youâd just keep it to yourself, no problem with that.
The rest of your weekend went by in a flash, with you managing to keep yourself busy, running as many errands as possible now that your body was allowing you enough time to step out of your home without the fear of having to run to find a toilet.
The following Monday was the evening before Minho would be back, and you left work at a reasonable time and was cross legged on the floor of your living room, back resting on the couch, gift box sitting in front of you while you took your time trying to craft the perfect bow around it when your phone lit up with a new text.
[7:19PM] jisungie: tomorrow iâm going straight to my parentâs
[7:19PM] jisungie: but Minho hyung is going to the dorms
Jisung had not texted you a lot over the previous month. He checked in a couple of times but teased you a lot less than usual. You had heard from Felix that his almost-twin was the most spooked out of the entire group by the baby news. The dancer said Han was being really careful around Minho and kept checking on him, but once you tried breaching the subject with Minho himself, he said that he didnât really notice anything off about the younger member. You even brought it up with Hyunjin, who assured you that Jisung was just scared of saying the wrong thing, specially with his tendency of oversharing, so he was being extra careful to not spill out the not-really-a-secret-secret to someone on their staff.
[7:20PM] y/n: Iâll drop by early morning to leave his car!
His reply came instantly.
[7:20PM] jisungie: but we should only land later
[7:20PM] y/n: oh I know!
[7:20PM] y/n: Iâll be out before that :)
the âjisungie is typingâŠâ stayed on for longer than you expected, specially as you saw his reply back finally appear.
[7:22PM] jisungie: why?
[7:23PM] y/n: what do you mean?
[7:23PM] jisungie: why are you leaving before he comes home?
[7:23PM] y/n: i figured he would want to rest???
[7:25PM] jisungie: i donât know if you really are that clueless
[7:25PM] jisungie: or just stupid
You blinked at the screen a couple times before a laughter erupted out of you.
[7:26PM] y/n: is it weird to say i missed you calling me stupid?
[7:26PM] jisungie: i donât call you stupid that much
[7:26PM] y/n: you kinda doâŠ
[7:27PM] jisungie: then you should try to be less stupid
[7:27PM] jisungie: pabo
You put the phone down and went back to the task at hand, finally adjusting the gift box to your liking before setting it aside on your counter to not forget it the next day. When you checked your phone again there were new messages waiting for you.
[7:31PM] jisungie: look noona
[7:31PM] jisungie: and Iâm not the one telling you this
[7:31PM] jisungie: but lino hyung really misses you
[7:31PM] jisungie: like way too much
[7:32PM] jisungie: like he cried more times this past month than I think Iâve seen him cry ever
[7:32PM] jisungie: and heâs really stubborn and will not talk to you about it
[7:32PM] jisungie: so pleasepleaseplease just wait for him at the dorms
[7:33PM] jisungie: so i can stop worrying about him so much
[7:33PM] jisungie: and he can just i dont know
[7:33PM] jisungie: see you
[7:33PM] jisungie: and know that you are okay too
[7:33PM] jisungie: and stop beating himself up over being away
You reread the messages a few times, the tightness on your chest a familiar one by now.
[7:55PM] y/n: thank you for telling me hannie
[7:55PM] y/n: and thank you for looking after him
[7:55PM] y/n: Iâll drive to the dorms after work and wait there
His reply came a few minutes later in the form of a silly little cartoon squirrel sticker, passed away face down while giving a shaky thumbs up.
So you complied to his request and, on the day of their return, drove Minhoâs car to his dorm about an hour before he was supposed to land. You didnât really talk about it, half assuming Jisung wouldâve told him something.
So you let yourself in, you drop the gift box you prepared on his room, and you sat on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone and trying to keep your pounding heart safe within your chest. You even stopped yourself from checking his location, knowing that the approaching dot on the map would only serve to make you even more anxious.
You stood up as soon as you heard him type in the door code, and witnessed the way he dragged himself in, looking down not to trip on the shoes already by the door.
Minho stopped himself, taking a moment to process that the shoes already at his entrance were not his.
Jisung had not, in fact, told him youâd be waiting.
Minho didnât even check in with you as he landed, his phone had run out of battery during the flight and he figured he could just texted you from home. He had spent the last few days waiting for you to say something about meeting him and containing his disappointment when you didnât. He didnât want to pressure you into seeing him straight away, not knowing how things would be between you two in person. So why were your shoes by his door?
He looked up to find you, as wide eyed as he was, as if the movie of his life had freeze framed and trapped you in the middle of a movement. His luggage was quickly forgotten, his bag fell to the floor and not even the fact that he really really shouldâve taken off his shoes stopped him. Before he knew what he was doing, he made his way across the room in long steps, wrapping his arms around you. One on your back, one behind your head, bringing your forehead to rest on his shoulder.
You gasped and your mind could not follow, but your body reacted for you, bringing both of your arms to circle his waist, pressing yourself to him.
The two of you stayed like that. The smell of his perfume faint after the long hours of travel but still discernible, mixed with the smell of him. His head turned towards your hair, and he noticed you smelt like the same peach scented shampoo he liked so much. He loosened his hold on your head, hand dropping to your upper back, just enough for you to instinctively look up to him.
âHiâ, his voice was barely a whisper, the smile on his lips was careful, tentative.
âHiâ, you mirrored his expression.
He lowered his head if only just an inch but stopped himself. Your eyes went from his eyes to his lips a couple of times before you were raising yourself to brush your nose to his, a quiet agreement.
Minho took no time closing the rest of the distance, a quick chaste peck to your lips, nothing more, and then he drew back to see your reaction. You had your eyes closed, feeling more relaxed than you had in months. And as you opened your eyes back to meet his, it was your turn to close the distance, meeting him for a more purposeful kiss.
You fell into a familiar rhythm, breathed into each other, mouths parting to allow for more. You pulled one of your arms away from his back, making your way up his chest until it brushed his neck, the back of his ears, his hair. You combed your fingers through it, Minho repressing a little moan through the kiss. His hand on your back pulling you into him, as close as physically possible.
The kiss felt like coming back home, to both of you.
You had to separate for air at some point, but the feeling of his lips on yours was intoxicating, every careful plan on keeping a safe distance thrown out the window the moment you felt his hand lift your shirt and sneak under it, drawing circles with his fingertips on your lower back.
Minho, surprising himself the most, was the one to break the kiss. It was reluctant, he tried stopping a couple of times, sneaking in more pecks, before fully bringing his head away from you, looking down to take in your reaction.
âHiâ, his voice was coming out a bit more confident this time.
âYou already said thatâ, you smiled back at him.
He was silent for a second.
Minho exhaled loudly, as if coming to a conclusion for a problem that has been bothering him for a while.
âI missed youâ, is his admission, and you canât help it but attach yourself back to him.
You missed him so much it hurt.
He doesnât try to keep his distance, bringing both of his arms around you to lift you from the floor, mouths still together as a little surprised yelp comes out of you, your legs coming up to circle his waist on reflect.
He walks the rest of the steps towards his bedroom carrying you, the sound of the shoes heâs still wearing echoing in the silent apartment. You had left his roomâs door open so in a few strides he lowers you to his bed, coming down to meet your lips again. You hum into him, your hands finding the hem of his t-shirt and sliding under it. Minho separates from you only long enough to allow himself to pull the piece of clothing off, his hand in turn going to the sides of your body, starting to tease your own blouse up. You give him space to pull it up and he makes a little surprised gasp as he takes you in, pulling himself from over you and crashing the weigh of his body on the bed by your side.
You turn to look at him, an annoyed whine dying on your lips as you follow his gaze. Heâs looking at your belly. At the barely there but somewhat noticeable bump. His hand linger over it, he doesnât look up to your face, but for once you can read his mind loud and clear, the question lingering.
You bring your hand over his and lowers them together, his palm now laying flat on the skin under your bellybutton.
âI didnât thinkâŠâ, the words die on this lips. There are a thousand different things running around his mind, but the only action he could take was to find your lips again.
He slides his hand to your sides and you take your time bringing yours back to his chest, down his abs, over his waist, across his back. He lays down and pulls you with him, legs crossing over, your chest flushed against his.
You felt him struggling to take off his shoes under you, and smiled through the kiss as you finally heard them thump on the floor, with Minho immediately adjusting, bringing one of his legs up so you could better intertwine with him.
The feeling of his thigh between your legs brings out a pleased hum from you, and you slowly starts to grind over the thick material of his jeans, his hands coming up to your waist, not guiding you exactly, but keeping you pressed in place.
His hands slipped up to find the clasps of your bra, the straps sliding down your arms as he sits up, Minhoâs mouth leaving yours to make his way down your neck. The change in position gave you more friction, and you could feel yourself getting wet with every roll of your hips agains the fabric of his pants.
As he wraps his lips against one of your nipples, you arch your back and readjust, sending your leg over to fully straddle him, a soft moan leaving your lips as you were feeling specially sensitive on the area he was attaching himself too, alternating between little nips, kisses and licks.
You felt him getting hard under you, and tried to help by starting to unbuckle his belt. As your fingers brushed his lower stomach he physically shivered under you.
âI really missed youâ, he draws back to meet your eyes, and you see the sparkle you ofter found there when he was about to tease you. Before he could though, you fully palmed his erection, a surprised yelp coming out of his lips that sounded like a victory to your ears.
And you wanted to hear him squirm more. You lift yourself from his lap only to drop on your knees in front of him, a little âohâ escaping his lips as you hastily helped him push down his pants to give you more access to him, now fully hard.
You dragged your nails through his thighs while planting kisses on his exposed abdomen, slowly closing the distance between your mouth and your hands.
When you finally freed him from his boxers, the veins were so bulged out you were sure that must feel painful, so you forgot your need to tease him longer and started giving him some relieve, dragging your tongue through all of his length before taking in at first just his tip, working your way down until you felt him at the back of your throat.
âYou take me so wellâ, one of his hands came to the back of your head, fingers tentatively brushing your head, without pulling it like you knew he liked, âlook so pretty like thisâ
And as his voice grew gentler and gentler, his movements started to go the opposite direction. You felt as he grabbed hold of your loose strands, bringing them together on a hasty ponytail so he could guide your movements, accelerating and slowing your ups and downs to his liking. There were times in the past when youâd protest his guiding, but hearing the little whines coming out of his mouth was enough for you to hollow your cheeks and fight your gag reflex as you felt him deep within you.
It didnât take long before he was pulling you away from him, gently signaling for you to come up.
âIâll cum if you keep goingâ, he said in a rush, finding your lips with his own again.
You squirmed out of your own pants and panties at once before sitting on his lap again, his hard on pressed between your stomachs, the wetness between your legs starting to feel uncomfortable.
He tried to bring his hand between you but you stopped him by lifting yourself up, feeling his tip against you, working your hips around him until you could feel the pressure at your entrance.
âNeed you inside meâ, you admitted, and he gladly complied, slowly helping you lower yourself on him.
There was some discomfort at the same time as a complete and utter bliss, the feeling of him stretching you open without any real preparation enough to make your eyes water and the twist on your guts to start forming. Minho noticed you struggle and did his best to not move at all, as much as he just wanted to go back to the pace you had set with your mouth.
Slowly you started circling your hips, so he kept brushing the spot inside you that made you whine for him to start moving again. The thrusts started slow, you dragged your arms over his shoulders, allowing for your head to drop at his side as well, your cheeks brushing together, the small moans that escaped him sending tinglings down your spine as you felt his hot breath near your ear.
You were both moving together, him trusting up while you helped angling him so he could hit you at just the right spot over and over again, and as the sensation started to feel like too much, you pushed his chest away from you, so he could lie on the bed and you could find support by placing your hands on his abs.
The way he fully laid back, crossing his arms under his head, a cocky grin on his lips, was almost enough to send you over the edge. You took his expression as a challenge, and started to pick up your pace as he just watched you work yourself on him. Using him to get yourself off.
He was utterly fucked by the vision of you concentrating on your own pleasure. Tits squeezed together by the way you had your arms positioned for support, hands firmly across his stomach. When he made his way down to appreciate the way your hips were moving, he couldnât peel his eyes away from the bump you were sporting.
Minho never saw anyone as beautiful as you in his life. And a selfish part of him was specially proud that he was the one that put that bump in you. He was staring so hard, letting his mind drift to dangerous places, that he almost missed the way your movements started to go sloppy, your thighs trembling with the effort of trying to keep the pace with your fast approaching orgasm.
So he sat back up, one hand securely holding you onto him as the other helped him support himself so he could trust faster into you, harder than he had so far. Your head fell forward on his shoulder again, a delicious whimper escaping you as you were consumed by your pleasure. He could only go a couple more pushes before him too, had his vision clouding with pleasure.
He could feel your labored breathing on his neck, your chest moving faster as you came down from your high. He slid out of you carefully, pulling you with him so you could rest on his chest. He dropped a chaste kiss on your shoulder.
âAre you okay?â, he asked, voice gentle.
âYeahâ, you forced your voice to come out and once he was sure you had a grasp on your own heart rate again, he wiggled out from under you and placed your head on the pillow.
Minho stood up to go pick up a towel to clean yourselves up, and you moved only to find your discarded panties on the floor and wiggle them up while he fetched a new pair of boxers for himself, wordlessly throwing a clean shirt of his your way as well. He took the few steps back to bed but didnât even have time to fully relax and you were springing up again, your body suddenly forgetting how tired it was over your recent activities.
âWhere are you-â, he didnât even finish the sentence and you had turned back to him, having grabbed the box you left there earlier.
Your smile was shy, uncertain. Minho had trouble holding back the smile spreading on his face.
âWhat is that?â
âI got you a giftâ, you could feel your ears reddening.
âYou got me a giftâ, he repeated, waiting for you to step closer.
You took the few steps back to the bed and kneeled in front of him, his shirt climbing up to reveal more of your thighs, one of his hands mindlessly finding their resting place on your leg. You propped the box in front of you and he took it, reluctantly bringing his other hand away from you to untie the bow and take off the lid.
Inside, laying flat, was a dark wooden frame guarding the best image from the sonogram, the one where you could better see the shape of their side profile. On top of it, the little bunny socks, the first purchase you ever made for the baby.
âOh my godâ, it came out of him in a choked out sound. He gently lifted the baby shoes only to immediately hug them to his chest. He allowed his body to drop on the bed, his eyes closing as he tried to process how cute the object he was holding was.
You watched as he buried his face on the pillow, eyes closed, hand protective over the tiny piece of clothing. You reached over to brush his hair away from his face and he slightly opened one of his eyes to look at you, before a new wave of cuteness aggression hit him and he had to turn to the other side, his back to you. You laughed loudly, feeling oh so fond of his reaction. How could you ever doubt heâd be here for you through all of this?
âMinho, itâs just shoesâ, your hand wrapped around his bare arm to try and turn him back to face you.
âItâs a baby shoeâ, you could barely understand, his voice muffled by the way his head was buried in the pillow.
You stopped trying to turn him around, instead opting for dragging your hand up and down his back, a little self indulgence masked as a way to keep your presence known. He took in the gentle touch for a minute before finally turning around, opening his arm so you could scoot closer and lay on his chest. He brought the small shoes up in front of both of your faces and you basked in the quiet comfort of the exchange.
âI canât believe how tiny this isâ, he mumbles.
You nod in agreement.
âHow are you feeling?â, he brings the hand not holding the shoes to your head, fingers running through your hair. You adjust yourself a bit closer, your eyes fighting to stay open as it is your turn to enjoy his care. The sound of his heartbeat sounding like a lullaby.
âScaredâ, you admit, and he hums in agreement.
âCan I ask you something thatâs been on my mind?â, he keeps the movement of his fingers in your head steady, and you nod against his chest, âdid you ever think about not keeping it?â
You didnât take offense to that. Thatâs a fair question and something you also battled with on those first few weeks.
âNot reallyâ, your reply comes quick, âI know itâs a bit insane but I think Iâve loved them before I knew they were hereâ, the realization hits you as you say it.
You were scared, freaked out, sick, worried and feeling all kinds of bad through most of the past few months. But you also knew that there was never a question on weather it was worth it or not.
Minho is quiet but the atmosphere is light. You bring your face away from his chest and he extends his arm so you could lay on his bicep, turning your body to face him.
âDid you ever consider walking away?â, is your turn to ask.
âNoâ, his voice almost takes a harsh turn, but he relaxes fast as you see that you were just genuinely curious, âlike, I was scared as shitâ, he continues, âbut more about being away while this was happening then of this actually happening, if that makes sense?â
You blink at him, your hand coming to his face, your palm to his cheek.
âIâm sorry I shut you out at timesâ, he shakes his head no, placing a soft kiss on your palm while at it.
âI get itâ, he takes your hand and intertwine your fingers.
âAnd I know this is the worst time to say this, but we should probably stop sleeping togetherâ, you add, and he averts his eyes to your hands together.
After a beat he nods.
âYeah, I think I agreeâ, he sounds defeated but there are no harsh movements, no change on his soft expression. You swallow the disappointment that dares to bloom on your chest.
âI just feel like it complicates stuffâ, you add, your eyes now moving to your hands too, âand I donât want to mess things up for themâ, you let go of his fingers, bringing your palm to your now covered stomach.
He follows the movement, placing his hand besides yours.
There is no way to know for how long the two of you stayed like that before Minho finally broke the silence again.
âI think Iâll be here for a while nowâ, he starts, the sudden sound of his voice making you look up towards him again, âweâll have the encore of the tour and then itâs straight into comeback prep. So maybe Iâll be busy, but Iâll be here.â
You understand what he meant to say between the lines.
âWeâll adjust,â you look into his eyes, you need him to know you mean it, âIâll keep you on the loop about every appointment and we can figure out the rest as we goâ.
His hand starts mindlessly tracking patterns on your belly.
âAnd weâll hang outâ, the statement comes out almost like a question.
âOf course weâll hang outâ, you promise.
âBecause weâre still friendsâ, and the way he sounds uncertain breaks your heart.
âYes, Minâ, you bring yourself closer to him, dropping a soft kiss on his cheek, âfriends who are having a baby together, but still friendsâ, you add, and see him visibly relax.
He steals a peck from your lips and you smile before scolding him, âMinho!â
âJust todayâ, he says, and it sounds like a confession.
Before you could protest he supports himself on his elbow and brings his face nearer to your mid section.
âHey kidâ, he starts and your eyes widen at the realization of what he is doing, âI donât know if you can hear me yet, but this is your dadâ
You bring a hand to cover your mouth, tears already threatening to bubble up.
âAnd your mom and I will always do whatâs best for you, but tonight I just missed her quite a lot so Iâll be a little selfish before you get here, ok?â, that final part he says looking up at you, and with a thumb he wipes away the stubborn water droplet making its way down your cheek. You smile at him and he rights himself to kiss you one more time.
And you knew you shouldnât do it. You needed to start separating things. But you also missed him so much.
So you told yourself you could endure a lifetime of selflessness if you could only be selfish for this one more night with him too.
> a/n | soooooo originally this was where chapter 2 ended. If I'm not mistaken, it was the shortest chapter out of my original planning so you know it only gets longer from this point on. Believe it or not, I actually don't like writing fluff as much but this story just pulls it out of me, I hope it lands well with you all! As always, thanks for reading and see you soon <3
> taglist is open!