Archive of Our Own

the name of the cafe is carte blanche, with the signboard painted a glossy chrome silver. if it’s seonghwa’s wish, then his wish is hongjoong’s command.

true to its namesake, the signboard was simply a blank, glossy chrome silver. no embossed words or letters. simply being a blank document, it did invoke some curiosity about the aptly named cafe, in tandem to its selling point of having no fixed menu. apart from some staple pastries and drinks, everything else was on a rotating menu. they even came up with an omakase option, leaving your meal up to the chef and baristas. since a lot of people these days had the dilemma of what shall i eat today, carte blanche filled that out perfectly. all you needed to do was choose the number of dishes to pair with your lunch, any meat of choice (they cater to vegetarian/vegan diets too), list down any allergies, and lunch would be served in no time.

they went viral on social media a few times, the most recent time being magical girl by orange caramel starting to play in the cafe, and seonghwa had danced to it with little kiki, little bows in their hair.

it was serious business for seonghwa, and soon after, they started to have a seasonal magical girl menu where pastries were inspired by different gemstones. the glass stained cookies, white chocolate cream strawberry shortcake and glitter dust macarons were very popular.

everyday is ‘bring your kid to work’ day for wooyoung. it’s difficult to leave her at home at such a tender age, and neither does he trust a random babysitter to watch her. he prefers to have her within his line of sight, and thankfully, his job allows for that flexibility. not to mention, she’s a ball of sunshine that adds to the vibrancy of the cafe.

his daughter, arin, is so loved. 

she especially likes to help, so she wanders around the cafe, curious like a little kitty, and saying hello to everyone even when wooyoung warns her about being wary of strangers. since the cafe is manned by a small team, the wait sometimes can be long, so arin makes her way around giving out samples. 

it takes a village to raise her.

she goes around giving out complementary cookies on specific days, in which seonghwa had thoughtfully made into small sachets, for the ease of her distribution. kiki, the regulars affectionately nickname her, reminiscent of kiki’s delivery service. wooyoung had dressed her in a frilly black dress that day, with a red bow on her head. the nickname stuck, and it did help a little with retaining her anonymity. she’d called wooyoung daddy jiji for a while, since she said he looked like kiki’s cat, and the names were similar. she liked that a lot.

wooyoung doesn’t know how many times he has to be stern and reiterate that baby, please do not talk to strangers! especially men that daddy doesn’t know!

for the umpteenth time, wooyoung’s rushing out from the kitchen in his work apron. he knows that cheeky giggle anywhere- she’s definitely up to something again.

“oh my gosh, you shouldn’t be pasting glitter stickers on strangers, my love! arin! stop that-”

this particular customer in question makes him flustered. because… he’s handsome. like, strikingly so. oh dear.

“having fun, princess kiki?”

“hehe. i love you, ruby san,” arin giggles, and wooyoung is absolutely mortified. he knows that both of them are especially weak to the faces of handsome men, so he needs to be firm with her about this. he’s really not anticipating the day she hits puberty and goes guy crazy or something. he’s going to hound every single man and- 

“jung arin!” he faux scolds, realising the actual situation at hand. both him and his kid are smitten. “where are your manners, brat! say sorry now.” he looks back at san, who looks so freaking cute with all the stickers on his face, gently trying to peel them off. “oh my god. i am so sorry about this, sir.”

san’s staring back at him, mouth agape and looking absolutely enchanted that wooyoung has to fight off a blush. how can a man’s gaze be so gentle yet intense?

“hi, your daughter is lovely.”

“i didn’t even get your na-”

“choi san.” his response comes a bit too quickly, and he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “i’m a good friend of seonghwa hyung’s and i kinda promised to come drop by the cafe, but i kept putting it off because of work.” he rubs at his neck sheepishly, allowing wooyoung to fuss at him and continue removing the stickers, himself pretending to pluck one or two. wooyoung’s speed as he pastes the stickers back into arin’s sticker book tells him this is not his first rodeo. “but if i knew you worked- i mean, if i knew how nice the place was, maybe i would’ve come down sooner.”

“if you do come again,” wooyoung clears his throat, hastily putting aside the sticker book, “would you tell me what you want to eat? i’ll make it for you.”

“your love language is food?” san blurts back, getting lost in his eyes. god, he thinks he might be falling in love. this must be it- the moment his parents knew when they saw each other. when everyone was teasing him for refusing to get into serious relationships until he found ‘the one’, san had been so adamant about only casual dates until he met the right person. sure, call him naive or stupid, but now, he feels vindicated. 

this must be love at first sight.

wait. but he has a daughter. now what? of course he’s taken. he’s so beautiful.

“ahem, god where are my manners. i mean i’m fine with anything, really. it’s nothing. arin’s really cute, she wasn’t bothering me. don’t worry about it.”

“it’s that and physical touch,” wooyoung softly says back, answering and averting his eyes, “and maybe i dunno. quality time?”

“okay. i’ll remember,” san says, mentally noting the flush on wooyoung’s apple cheeks, “what the hell..? and you’re not telling me yours?”

the eye contact breaks when arin’s wriggled free and ran off and is yelling something about stealing snacks.

“yah! arin-ah-!”

“maybe i’ll let you find out for yourself, wooyoung ssi.”

san usually works from the office. or at home, if he feels like lounging around or had a late night.

but now, he works from the cafe.

there’s a pattern, wooyoung observes, other than the telltale timings of san’s stay. if he’s got his hair done up and has his glasses on and carries around his blazer, it’s probably a business meeting or there’s clientele to impress. if it’s just glasses, san has a task he needs to focus on. or probably had a late night- this one depends on the outfit as well.

if it’s supposed to be a ‘work from home’ day (ignoring how his second home is now the cafe, first being the office) then san dresses down. his hair will be fluffy and free from any pomade or gel or wax, and it makes him look so cuddly and young. not to mention, if it’s just a casual tee and jeans, wooyoung swears he will combust if he keeps staring. he has a job to keep, damn it. also, did you know that san can pop open the tab of a coke can with just one finger-

“daddy, you’re doing it again,” arin whispers, wiggling her eyebrows, “the ‘uncle sannie is here’ look.”

“what look. and who says i’m doing it,” wooyoung shoots back, handing her a plate with a pudding cup on it, “now go give it.”

“do it yourself!” she sticks her tongue out, but before she can retort further, the older brat tells his own brat, “you’re giving it to san, if not we’re not watching the my melody and kuromi show on netflix tonight.”

“that’s not fair! but daddy!”

“ha! too bad, i call the shots here, little love. now go hand it over. shoo!”

huffing, she stomps over and starts whining to san, who’s mid-stretch after tapping away at his laptop. wooyoung does not feel a certain way when the hem of his black fitted top rides up to show a sliver of toned muscle. there’s the peek of his underwear band as well, for the dark wash jeans are low rise. god. he’s just watching because he’s supervising his kid, okay? wouldn’t want any complaints from a mere customer.

“hey, baby.” san pats her head, dimples greeting her gently, “what’s this you’ve got here?”

“daddy’s being mean! he says me gots to gives it or can’t watch melody and kuromi.”

“oh? if he’s being mean you can always come home with me. i’ll let you watch it anytime when i’m not working.” arin giggles at his response, “you’re so nice, uncle sannie. wish you were my daddy.”

it makes san freeze for a moment when she reaches for a hug, and he complies eventually. “wooyoung’s a really good dad you know,” he says into her ear as she holds him tighter, “you shouldn’t say such things... he really loves you and it would hurt him to hear such words. they’re not very pretty things to say.”

on the flip side, he feels warmth flood into his chest, that arin would want a dad like him. that’s very sweet of her. she’s such a lovely kid, and he knows what she means.

“sorry, uncle sannie. i didn’t says it to be like that.” she quietly mumbles, “he’s the bestest daddy ever. even if he’s not fair.” 

“how can i make it fair for you?”

“come watch melody and kuromi..?”

“tonight? oh, i have a meeting later, i’m sorry, princess.” san doesn’t like how his heart clenches when he sees her frown. “come. could i please have the honour of sharing my pudding with you, my pretty baby?”

at his dramatic expression, her laugh is like music to his ears, and he spots wooyoung rolling his eyes from afar when he feeds her the first scoop of pudding- albeit a fond smile on his face. wooyoung couldn’t hear their conversation from the distance, but he can see that arin’s being fed.

“yah, stop pampering her, choi san! she’s spoiled rotten by the other guys already!”

“princess rights, no can do.”

wooyoung comes over to smack him just because, as well as to top up a cup of warm decaffeinated tea and a muffin for san. because he’s worked hard. and because wooyoung’s biased. and because arin likes him too.

san wonders why seonghwa had only told him now about their cute chef. 

at that, seonghwa retorts that wooyoung’s been closed off for a long time, but now that arin is no longer a baby and he’s settled down a bit, he seems to be less stuffy and more relaxed. it also helps that arin takes after him, is equally endearing and difficult to not love. 

“so… is he on apps?” san frowns, not liking the thought at all, and that’s all it takes for seonghwa to start teasing him. “someone’s in looooove!” san doesn’t even care that he’s flushing, “hyung, answer me!”

“a number of people have been trying to set him up here and there,” seonghwa sweetly sighs, “as you can see, wooyoungie’s a natural social butterfly, and he’s really a catch. he worries a lot, and as you know, a lot of stigma still stands with single parents… and not to mention, a male raising a daughter on his own?”

“i can-!” san says at once, a bit too loud for his liking, much to seonghwa’s delight, “i mean i could always… oh my god what am i saying,” he covers his face in his hands, “i mean, i am a fast learner. and i think arinnie likes me. i can…”

“oh san,” seonghwa gives him a warm hug, “wooyoung would love you to bits. as a boyf- i mean! well, not like he doesn’t already, but-!” he smiles fondly, “anyways! you did not hear that from me,” 

san looks so nervous that he coos. love is always a good thing. maybe it might take some time, but his intuition tells him they’ll get along just right. they seem like a good match, in terms of physical, emotional and mental chemistry. he knows them long enough to arrive at this conclusion. there have been subtle changes and glances made, even though they’ve just crossed paths.

“san-ah. you don’t just come here for my strawberry cakes and cookies, do you? or the coffee?”

“…”

“you come here for the food? or the chef?”

“i…” he falters under seonghwa’s fond gaze, “m-maybe both…” he feels the need to defend himself when seonghwa smiles at him like he’s won the lottery. see, what did i tell ya, sannie, when i said to drop by because everything in my cafe is super cute? “just to clarify-! i mean your bakes and… someone’s food. that’s all.”

so san’s splurged on a couple of toys for arin, inclusive of a princess set and some new clothes and my melody and kuromi stickers to make up for not being able to watch it with her that day. wooyoung smacks him for indulging her, but his soft gaze and fond smile says otherwise.

and it somehow surmounts into everyone working in the cafe wearing matching tiaras for a week to humour her.

with his frequency to the cafe- change of environment, san is still working, okay- san is delighted to find out that they share the same birth month. he buys her a pair of red ribbon clips, telling her that ruby is their birth stone. she’s born a day before san, on 9th july, so she gladly shares the pair of clips with him. he learns to tie her hair for her, whenever she comes over to his standard seating spot, starting with two ponytails and adding the ribbons into her hair. she takes out one, and fastens it onto his head.

“matchy, uncle ruby san!”

he’s never felt his heart flutter like this before.

maybe it’s the wifi that’s great. maybe it’s the coffee.

maybe it’s the chef and his daughter that makes him keep coming back for more.

“you can’t tell daddy,” arin softly says, sitting snugly in his lap like it’s a natural thing to do, “daddy said… can’t tell anyone. but you’re someone, right, uncle sannie? so it’s… it’s diff- diff-wen?”

“different?”

“yes!” she claps as if to say, i know you understood me, “daddy really likes you,” she says in a small voice, “arinnie likes you too.” she rummages around her princess dress pockets, carefully taking out a squashed strawberry. “wanna show uncle sannie- this is daddy,” 

“mm? that’s a strawberry, arin-ah?” he looks up to where wooyoung’s still busy cooking and plating, looking pretty as always in his long black hair. it’s growing out beautifully, and san really loves how it looks on him, fanning out at his neck. “your daddy’s hair is black?”

“no, no!” she’s pouting, and it’s that same mischievous twinkle in her eyes. she really is wooyoung’s child- they have the same beautiful asymmetrical eyes that sparkle. “it’s only when daddy talks about you. and he talks, a loooooot,” she widens her arms as far as she can, showing the extent. san nods seriously, amused, “and what does daddy say?”

“but daddy said not to tell…”

san gets the hint. it’s some type of cat to cat communication, you see.

“but if i ask, you’re just answering me, yes?”

“mhm!” she nods so vigorously that san laughs. “okay so please answer uncle sannie’s question.”

loquaciousness runs in the veins of the jungs. san thinks it’s really cute when she occasionally mixes her ‘r’ and ‘w’ sounds, so it sounds a bit like stwawbewwy when excited. “i saved you the biggest strawberry cause uncle sannie likes strawberries. ‘nd daddy says you’re hot even when it’s raining, but ‘is cold! so cold ‘til uncle hwa gave me my fuzzy pink jacket. and daddy says you’re like a kitty. he’s a black kitty, you’re orange kitty! like my orange juice! and arinnie is a… a mix… same-meese.” she scrunches her face in confusion. “a same-meat? same-me?”

san blinks at her, thinking of his own house cat back in his hometown. oh. arin does look a bit like byeol. “a siamese!”

“yes, yes!” san carefully takes a napkin, wiping the squished strawberry juice trickling down her arm. she got a bit excited when he understood her. “oh! i’m sorry, uncle sannie, your berry-!” her expressive eyes are now brimmed with tears, “i made it bad!”

“oh, hush, it’s okay,” san bounces her in his lap, rubbing little circles to comfort her, “uncle sannie still likes it. here, i’ll eat it. ahh?” he lets out a satisfied hum when arin feeds him the mushy berry, somehow tasting very sweet. “oh,” she softly says, wiping her hand on her own dress, “daddy thinks you’re handsome too. he says! he says what if we went… picnic! what if we play games! at the park, at lotte! do you think we-” san could never resist that pout, “oh, uncle sannie, can we goes?”

“and where do you want to go, my love?” it feels so nice, yet so intimate, to be calling her the pet name wooyoung uses. like he is, like he could be her dad too.

she thinks, deep in thought to the point of hugging san because he’s looking at her so intently. “you just tell me, princess. uncle san will make it happen.”

“anywhere is okay. ‘s long as uncle sannie… and daddy… there...” she’s getting sleepy, san notices. glancing at the clock, it’s nearing her nap time. he picks her up gently, intending to return her back to her dad to tuck her in, but she has a new determined look, eyes bleary with drowsiness, “but you and daddy must hold hands. give kiss.”

“oh, i don’t know about that, baby.” san blushes, face warm from her ideas. if only she knew how much he’s been thinking about it too. daydreaming, fantasizing. “but i will try my best.”

“pinky promise?”

he shakes their last fingers together, and presses a kiss to her knuckles, and she giggles, feeling very much like a princess.

“promise. i’ll do my best for you, little one.”

and for wooyoung. and for me.

for us.

after they found out san keeps coming here to work, curiosity gets the better of his colleagues. yunho’s dropped by carte blanche, with san hinting to him the barista is single. san had such a smug look about him that yunho just wanted to see what it was all about. if anything, he’d delegate san the harder tasks in the office as payback.

he knows about the omakase style the cafe adopts, and he has to concede that based on san’s photos, the food does look pretty good. so, the barista’s name is mingi. and occasionally, yeosang helps out when the orders pile up. even if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, it’s okay- just fake it till you make it. it’s all about the presentation and the confidence, mingi tells him.

song mingi’s a vibes kinda guy. since a lot of people have no idea what to get, he just makes it based on vibes, and it works out perfectly with the theme of the cafe.

when jeong yunho comes in and asks for a drink, the first thing mingi thinks is, sweet. syrupy sweet. 

yunho has to try his best not to make a face because firstly, this is their first impression of each other. secondly, did mingi go crazy with the pumps of syrup?! thirdly, he can feel his ears burning with mingi’s expectant look, eyes all wide like he’s anticipating yunho’s reaction to his drink.

“is… is it bad?”

“n-no! not at all!” yunho braces himself as he embraces the mug again, “it’s just, uhm. a little on the sweet side..?”

he looks like a cute puppy, all shy and sheepish, and mingi grabs the drink back from him, causing an almost-splash onto his white shirt. it’s okay, the barista’s cute- even if it spilled, yunho will forgive. mingi takes a sip, and makes a face. 

“ugh, this is gross. it’s ‘cause you looked sweet!” mingi whisper-yells, embarrassed, “i’ll make you something else,”

“i said it’s okay-”

mingi takes another lick, before sticking out his tongue. “yuck, this is really bad, sorry. you have horrible taste, yunho.”

“i’m a budding actor, what can i say?” he leans in a little closer, “i’d even drink poison if you served it to me, really.”

“and why would i be doing that-!”

“then you could perform cpr on me,” yunho gives him a coy smile, “unless you’d want to try that with me wide awake and responsive?”

oh. mingi always thought wooyoung was a big flirt, and sometimes yeah, they’re friends so he’d flirt back. he’s had some good practice. but yunho is something else altogether. why did nobody give him a head’s up? not even wooyoung’s little accountant guy? no wonder why he’s from the legal department- yunho looks so put together and all smiles, but he also has a darker, more serious undertone to him- a sexy and stern side.

“aren’t you just asking for a kiss, then…” mingi mumbles to himself, flushing at the response, “and if i am, mingi-yah? are you giving it or what?”

he almost drops the mug in his hand, but yunho moves fast, and the mug is now supported by four hands. yunho’s holding mingi’s hands, which are in turn holding the mug. flustered by the contact but afraid to drop the ceramic, they pull apart in slow motion, until mingi safely puts the cup onto the table. yunho’s ears are burning and so are mingi’s cheeks.

“uhhh… maybe you wanna sit down? i, um- it’s hard to focus when a hot guy is staring at me fuck my job up?”

“don’t say that,” yunho mumbles back, “you’re doing good, mingi. sorry for distracting you,”

so he’s not even denying the hot guy part, mingi shakes his head, soft smile on his face, damn.

“here you go,” it’s a standard vanilla latte with cinnamon, and mingi serves it with such a sweet gummy smile that it would be impossible not to smile back. “enjoy, yuyu.”

yunho understands san’s loyalty to the cafe now.

just as how san always goes during office hours so he can play with arin in between his schedule, yunho usually drops by when it’s mingi’s turn to close the shop, so they have the luxury of dawdling a little. this way, mingi gets to practice on his drink making without the pressure of people staring or waiting for their orders, and he gets constructive feedback too. he makes yunho all sorts of cute drinks, coffee with a foam puppy and what not. a little wonky, but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

today, yunho’s occupying san’s usual seat as the latter is in the office for a business meeting.

“mingi jeong,” yunho calls, as if the nickname’s been around for aeons, “is my drink ready or are you just gonna fix off?”

it all started with his spiderman phone case. having both work and personal phones, yunho downloads tons of games to play with arin on his personal phone. the work phone looks brand new with a transparent cover for functionality, and the bright red of the ‘games phone’ piqued arin’s curiosity.

when she asks him who's that, they started deep diving into spiderman lore, in bite sized, digestible points. she takes it all in easily, already having gone through it before with seonghwa and star wars. she keeps a figurine of anakin skywalker in her bag with her always. plus, her daddy’s a yapper. she can keep up.

“so spiderman has a girlfriend called MJ,” yunho tells her with all seriousness in the world, and arin locks in as well, and after a bit more understanding of the rough plot, she asks, “what is MJ meaning..?”

“wanna guess? it’s a bit like the shoes you’ve got on,”

“M for mangi,” she thinks aloud, ignoring the hint and fiddling about with yunho’s stuff on the table as she thinks, finally settling on his staff pass and playing with the lanyard. “what is this?” she lifts it up to compare to yunho’s face, making him laugh.

“ah. that would be me- see, this was my photo some years ago, and this is my name. jeong yunho.” he patiently points at each character, watching as arin traces out his name. yours and mine, we have the same surname, he tells her, just that the english romanization is a bit different. then she grabs one of his pens and shakily writes out her own name and wooyoung’s, on his set of documents. thankfully, these are his own personal drafts and notes and nothing serious.

“you did a wonderful job,” yunho cheers, as she gets their names right, lining the surnames in a row, “it’s a cute people thing, ya see! jeong and jung, only cute people have this surname,”

he watches as arin processes, tries to connect the dots. maybe the wrong dots, but-

“mingi jeong,” she says triumphantly, as if solving his question easily, “aha! MJ means mingi jeong!”

yunho only blinks at her, before blushing. “wait, arin, no- your shoes! it’s mary jane-!” she’s no longer listening to him when yunho tries to tell her mingi’s surname is song. song mingi.

but the little girl is having none of it, retorting how mingi’s nametag does not have ‘song’ on it, so he must be a ‘jeong’. because they are all cute. and there’s nothing to sing about mingi’s name. it doesn’t play when you click the triangle button. “so if you is spiderman,” she says with resolve in her eyes, darting back to look at mingi humming while making a drink, “and uncle mingi jeong is MJ, then why no kiss? hm, downside up?”

“it’s upside down, my dear,” yunho bites down on his lip, and arin pokes at his cheeks trying to make him smile.

oh god. wooyoung has poured too much love and kisses into her that it hurts. 

“it’s a bit… complicated,” and when she tilts her head at the big word, “like, uh, hard? it’s like if you like chocolate and i like chocolate, then we can be friends. but if i like chocolate and you hate chocolate, then maybe it’s hard to be friends?” it’s only getting worse as he tries to explain. “i mean, it’s good to be friends first before you date and all, but it’s not like- i mean we just know each other from ordering coffee and-” arin has been nodding sagely, paying attention to every word that yunho thinks she might understand, and then the next thing he knows, she’s shouting.

“uncle mingi!” she yells, “do you like chocolate-!”

“eh?” mingi’s confused, but judging by how pink yunho is, face buried in his beautiful hands, mingi offers arin a smile and a thumbs up. “yup chocolate’s good!”

“see, see, uncle yunho-man!” she has her hands on her hips now, a proud smile on her face, “uncle mingi jeong likes chocolate. we are all cute, you can be friends now!”

“oh arin…” he gives her a big hug, “it’s… that was an example, but-! all thanks to you, i guess we could be friends first. thank you,”

“you’re welcome, sweetie!” 

she really takes after her dad. down to the sweet names and the meddling.

since then, they’ve become good friends, with mingi reenacting ratatouille as arin sits on his shoulders and tugs at his hair when he makes his drinks. somehow, they made up some code word and wooyoung’s so exasperated when arin goes around yelling fix on! fix on! like some sort of alarm. it drives him nuts. this girl gets so hyper when you cheer her on, and mingi’s guilty as charged.

“your drink is done!”

yunho is still staring, so mingi asks arin to help deliver his drink with a small note.

thank you for always giving me princess treatment even when i’m really shy and don’t know what to do with it :]

now mingi’s the one staring as yunho goes red.

“you need to be pay-shun, uncle hwa,” and he can see how she’s doing a great at emulating what wooyoung’s taught her, his mini-me, “uncle hong’s just… orc-weird,”

“ah. patience. i guess he is a bit weird, huh.”

“no, no- hm. orc-word?”

it’s funny how arin has no issue with manawowian (mandalorian, with its syllables broken up on a few tries) but stumbles at ‘patient’ and ‘awkward’. seonghwa’s raised her well, it seems. she seems to be very happy to hang out with the adults and let them talk to her about their hobbies.

“oh, i got you. he is awkward. tell me about it,” seonghwa rolls his eyes fondly, “but that’s why i like him. adds to his charm- or maybe i just have bad taste?”

“nuh-uh! uncle hwa’s strawberry cakes are the best,” arin offers two thumbs up, vehement, “good taste!”

seonghwa laughs and offers her a pat on the head, adjusting her hair clips, “if you say so, arinnie,”

“daddy says you get orc-word when you see someone you like, cause it makes you wanna do your best. and when you get shy and can’t do your best, makes you sad,”

seonghwa sighs, “i’m afraid your daddy’s right, arin-ah… but at the end of the day, it’s the thought that counts? the effort?”

“mhm!” she nods vigorously, “uncle hong always stares at uncle hwa,” she adds a mischievous smile, “he says you’s pretty,”

“of course i am,” seonghwa scoffs, before softly adding, “and so are you. and so is joong,”

“you’re making the daddy face,” arin stares at him cutely, a fond expression as she pokes his cheeks, “it’s the ‘i love you’ face,”

“yeah,” seonghwa breathes back, realising his cheeks are warm, “yeah.”

there’s a third office guy that drops by carte blanche, after san and yunho have been disappearing to this ‘mysterious cafe’ of late. jongho works in investment banking, so his schedule varies from the other two of his colleagues. also, his work hours and office days are stricter, hence he drops by less often.

but when he does come, arin always drags him away from the laptop to arm wrestle. she’s a menace, really, but a loveable one. she’s struggling with two hands now, and uncle jongho doesn’t budge, doesn’t even seem to be putting in any effort. only when arin has to climb onto the table, putting in her full body weight, does he needs to exert ‘some’ effort. 

she loves uncle jongho so much. he’s like a magician, because he always comes by as a surprise. and he can cut fruits with his hands and ta-da! you could just eat them! her daddy on the other hand, will use sharp things she’s banned from touching, to carve little apple bunnies for her. peels her orange wedges and slices melons into small chunks for her ease of eating. but uncle jong just chops them himself! with his hands! daddy still needs to stay in the kitchen for some time and find her pompompurin bowl with the matching fork.

“ack! oh no, princess arin-! have mercy, you’re too strong-!” he dramatically flops his hand over and comically pretends to fall too, and arin collapses into a heap of giggles.

“having fun?” yeosang comes with his coffee, holding in a laugh at the dramatic sight, “arin’s been plotting to defeat you since last week. must’ve made her day,”

“and how can i make yours?”

yeosang blushes at the instant response. gosh, were all the men in that office all good at flirting or what? then, upon realising he’s in public, yeosang locks in and starts serving face instead. arin’s scampering off. daddy had coached her about what to say when this situation happened. uncle jongho and uncle sangie are in a stare-off now, so she hurries to find him in the kitchen.

“daddy, daddy!” she tugs at his apron, “them-! pot, bear pots!”

wooyoung only laughs at her urgency, hands her his phone. pottery, he had taught arin to memorise, because it’s only right he tries to set yeosang up with his crush, uncle sangie wants to try pottery. so if you see uncle jong, tell him- pottery, okay?

“uncle jong!” she dissolves the eye staring competition, pulling him aside and shoving the phone in his face, “pot-tree, make bears! go pot-tree!”

wooyoung’s keeling over from laughter in the kitchen, watching his daughter’s antics, and yeosang is mouthing curses at him, rooted to the spot.

“ah, you want us to go on a pottery date,” jongho cutely deciphers, “thank you, arin. we’ll do just that,” the little girl just beams with pride, saying with a serious expression, “mhm, make bears and kiss.”

“arin-ah, go return daddy his phone,” yeosang tries, unable to hide his flush, “we’ll go to do pottery, okay? thank you,”

“yay, okay! you goes! pot-tree! daddy, they goes-!”

“thank you, arinnie,” jongho smiles at her, watching her leap into wooyoung’s arms, yelling back, “you’re welcome, darling!”

“welcome to carte blanche! it’s your ever dazzling silver light, diamond!” hongjoong’s jaw is on the floor when he’s greeted by seonghwa on a dreary monday morning.

sometimes hongjoong swears that in another life, he’d be a music producer, and seonghwa would be a perfect idol, his muse- and he’d write all sorts of songs about seonghwa and-

“you look so fucking cute,” his voice sounds like gravel even to his own ears. seonghwa hands him his coffee, always made just the way he likes it, and always freshly brewed to meet his hand whenever he reaches the cafe. he doesn’t know how seonghwa has his timings down pat, even when it’s raining or he’s overslept or traffic is bad. the coffee is always at the temperature he takes it, rain or shine.

“it’s gonna be this month’s theme, inspired by our very own princess arinnie!”

“you’ll be the death of me,” he takes a swig of his coffee, brightening as he feels the tinge of sugar on his tongue, “figured you’d be a bit shocked, so i took the liberty to add a little caramel syrup today. and some sea salt! how is it?”

“it’s good,” hongjoong says back, “i don’t know how you do it…”

“pretty sure i know my boyfriend well enough,” seonghwa mutters back, and of course hongjoong, usually clueless, has to hear it today.

“b-boyfriend?!”

“what! are we not dating?” seonghwa looks back at him, frowning, “we’ve been together since the start! i figured the cafe was a proposal gift-”

“oh my god, i’m a fucking idiot,” the coffee cup is safely tucked away, and hongjoong has the audacity to not jump over the counter immediately to kiss him. “i’ve been dropping hints since the damn cafe started and all you do is twiddle your hands- like now- and stare at me like i’m beautiful, which i am, but that’s not the point-!”

depending on its hanja, hwa could mean different things on korean- anger, fire, flower. but to put them together, as seong and hwa, that would mean to be a star. and those boba eyes. hell, he wouldn’t even have started this whole cafe and onboarded himself as a businessman, running the marketing and advertising and accounting of it himself if not for seonghwa. ultimately, he decided seonghwa would be better off without any labels, like the gorgeous genderless entity that he is, and thus the blank cheque of a signboard was born.

“i’m sorry, hwa, i’m really stupid,” he carefully walks behind the counter, gingerly takes seonghwa’s hands to kiss them. “think i need to put a ring on it soon, so you know i’m serious? the cafe’s just dowry, i guess,”

“do you know arin also thinks you’re silly?” seonghwa laughs, noting that hongjoong is actually refusing to let go of this hands now that he’s had the courage to finally hold them, “even woo’s baby girl knows you’re awk-”

hongjoong kisses his lips to make him shut up.

shortly after the little successes along the way with her new uncles, arin tries her best with the two people she likes the most. sorry uncle hwa, but ever since she’s met uncle san, everything has changed for the better- and therefore seonghwa is now third favourite.

“daddy choi!” 

san is so confused when arin says it, but then he realises that wooyoung is the one blushing instead. “i’m so sorry- arin-ah, please!” when the little gremlin is out of sight, wooyoung apologises, “she thinks if you like a person you take their surname- and i know it doesn’t work that way in korea, you keep your surname even if you get married,” wooyoung fans his cheeks, way too hot for this conversation, “fuc- sorry, i mean, this stupid yunho and his spiderman… god, she really is going around stirring shit and it’s driving me crazy, i’m telling you,”

it’s taken a bit to unwind the false notion that surname jeong/jung is not equivalent to cute, and surname choi is not equivalent to handsome. she’s even went to jongho to take a photo of his face, and gotten uncle sangie to approve that surname choi equals handsome. just to bully wooyoung, of course yeosang agreed with her and said choi means handsome. damn it.

arin’s just going around saying anything and it embarrasses wooyoung, because she’s unfortunately… right. he’s not sure if it’s the genes (it’s probably the genes) that makes her endearingly meddlesome, somehow getting all the love lines right. god’s sake, she was even scolding kim hongjoong for making seonghwa sad! even when seonghwa had tried his best to hide it, professional face on, and didn’t make much of a fuss. 

you made uncle hwa a sad flower, she’d yanked at hongjoong’s shirt, trying to describe a drooping, dying flower. “but you can makes him happy again,” 

she shows hongjoong the colourful brochure she took from seonghwa’s satchel bag by the lockers, pointing at the various sets of lego, “uncle hwa stares,” she reenacts the scene of seonghwa looking at the new lego catalogue, sighing, circling and crossing when he thinks nobody is looking. “he likes.”

hongjoong only blinks at her, before taking the catalogue. maybe he should get the botanical flowers. the bonsai tree with the frogs. and the orchids. they’re pretty, just like seonghwa. and they could build it together, albeit him being pretty useless at it. and he could just say it’s decor for the cafe-

“thank you, arinnie. i’ll look into getting them.” he pats her head, and she beams. it’s the same look that uncle mingi gives when she tells him that uncle yunho is here and he’s made him a new drink with her help. the same look daddy gives when uncle sannie is here, and he pretends not to care. the same look that uncle sangie gives when he tries to sneakily give uncle jongho extra pastries on the house.

“you’re welcome, sweetie!”

“actually, woo,” seonghwa starts when they’re preparing ingredients before the cafe opens, “san used to skip a lot of meals. workaholic issues, y’know? he buried himself in work and got a bit obsessed with it, even when he’s having a hard time.”

wooyoung stares, hands having stopped apportioning his ingredients for today’s dishes. 

“but after he’s met you, he’s eating better. i mean, that guy does get his protein in and goes to the gym all the time with jongho, which is whatever. but he’s eating well now, a lot more than he used to. so thank you for that. he used to be a bit of a brooding mountain, always having his schedules tied up with meetings and calls and whatnot.”

“what can i say, hyung. i am a great chef and you know it. isn’t that why i was hired?” wooyoung says back, trying to be normal about it, when his thoughts are going crazy. everything’s going haywire. mingi and yeosang have been telling him, that san looks at him in some sort of insanely lovesick way- only when wooyoung’s busy and isn’t looking. he knows it must be really, really blatantly-obvious-kind-of-bad when even hongjoong, of all people, is noticing all of this. that little man only has one eye on the business and the other on seonghwa. san must be doing all sorts of crazy expressions, which is mental.

“young-ah, you know i don’t just mean that.” seonghwa’s gentle hand jolts him out of his thoughts. wooyoung desperately tries to stop thinking. he’s a dad. he has a daughter. he’s not in high school with a damn crush and giggling and kicking his feet at the sight of a hottie. he feels unwell.

“then what do you mean? it’s not my business if my food is that good he keeps coming back for more?” his tone is pointed, defence mechanism kicking in. this is terrifying. the last time he ever felt this maternal was when arin was born. he dropped everything, never spared a glance at anything else the moment that pregnancy test came back positive. it’s been close to five, six years since he fell in love, went on a date. he feels nauseous. sick to his stomach. 

fuck. i’m in love with him. 

“i know you’re scared. but you have to consider arin too- even if you’re both males, at least she has a more complete family?” seonghwa hurries along with his words when wooyoung goes silent, face darkened, “i swear to you, i don’t mean to pry and i’m not saying it’s wrong for how you want to raise your daughter- she’s like our daughter, too- and it’s okay to be a single father and it’s okay to not be straight and- oh my god i’m rambling, sorry- shit, it’s really not my business-”

wooyoung grabs him into a tight hug, he prays his tears aren’t falling. “‘s okay, hyung. i know what you’re saying. i know you always have my best interests at heart. you come from a good place. i know. i love you.”

“hey, i love you too, woo. that’s what family is for.” he pats wooyoung’s trembling back, “we have time. don’t worry.”

a future? with san?

seonghwa’s sweet pep talk gets him thinking.

arin’s a tough kid, and what can he say, she got it from her daddy. while he’s not the proudest of his stupid mistakes when he was younger, he’s never seen his kid as the byproduct of a regrettable accident. her biological mother had wanted nothing to do with her, but wooyoung had pleaded with her to keep the child- a blessing from the gods. this was his baby. my little miracle, he thought when he saw the first ultrasound, i’m going to give my all for my child, regardless of what comes our way. 

wooyoung’s no stranger to hooking up with men and women alike, but he prefers dating men- so he always thought he would eventually consider adoption or moving abroad where there wasn’t so much scrutiny on your sexual preferences. his parents had been supportive, and as long as he was healthy and happy and nobody got hurt, they didn’t see why being gay was such a big deal. and when arin’s existence came about, they were all overwhelmed with joy upon receiving a child slash grandchild. a deal was made, and after arin’s birth, her biological mother cut all ties with them. wooyoung never found out what happened to her and he respects her decision, but he wishes her well and hopes the best for her too.

arin is his pride and joy- and so far, arin’s never quite liked someone this much, apart from himself and his mother and seonghwa. she used to be colicky and fussy as a baby, and wooyoung had countless sleepless nights, even having to go back and forth, shuttling between culinary school in seoul and going back to ilsan to rope in his parents for help. he’s matured and learned lots along the way, and he’s glad that arin never really had that bad of a ‘terrible twos’ stage. she radiates so much cheer and happiness that it warms him even on the coldest of nights.

little miss sunshine, his mother had nicknamed her, and she’s always so excited to greet halmeoni whenever they go back on new year’s or birthdays and such. his mother knows about san. or at least, wooyoung has alluded to arin getting along with ‘this gentlemanly guy’ that comes by often. he figures his mother knows (her intuition is no joke) because these days, when they call to catch up, she also asks about ‘arin’s favourite guy’.

a future. with san.

his phone’s current lockscreen is a selfie of san and arin, faces covered in stickers. pink hearts and glittery flowers and more sanrio characters. he likes this photo so much, and decides that since arin likes it too, he might as well make it his wallpaper. they even have matching cinnamoroll band aids on their noses. so, so friggin’ cute.

but whenever he looks at it (just for the time, he weakly convinces himself) he feels a bittersweet sort of emotion welling up inside. hell, he’s actually witnessed people in the damn cafe, asking for san’s number. multiple. times. he was annoyed, obviously- then he blamed himself for feeling such a way when san was technically single and not romantically involved with anyone. or at least, to the best of his knowledge. it’s anybody’s game, really. 

san’s the one with plenty of options here. wooyoung’s not really in a position to pick and choose.

so all he has is the copious amounts of photos arin has snapped, staring and smiling with wistful eyes at an unattainable man. a crush. how immature. he’s a father. what is he doing here, daydreaming and hoping for what, a happy ending? when he’s not even straight and has a darling daughter in tow?

“daddy, your eyes,” arin says, cupping his cheeks, and he hastily locks his phone. “what’s wrong, daddy?”

“hm?” he feels the wetness of his eyes, swallows and fights them. puts on a smile as he kisses his daughter’s forehead. “nothing’s wrong, sweetie. daddy’s just tired.”

everything is wrong. 

he’s going to be thirty soon, fuck’s sake. with a beautiful kid that’s growing up too fast. and here he is, falling in love with the most eligible bachelor that everyone is pining after. head over heels. a fool. 

this is fucking ridiculous.

“daddy… don’t cry, i’m here, sweetie.”

“i’m not,” wooyoung sniffs, “sorry. i didn’t mean to worry you, little one. i’m okay. pinky promise.”

“okay, daddy. if you says so.” arin ruffles his hair, the way he does for her, kisses his nose. “cheer up, daddy. i love you!”

“i love you too, munchkin.” he hastily dabs at his face, putting on a smile, “come, let’s go get some ice cream.”

“hey, young-ah,” san greets him when he picks up on the second ring, “what’s up?”

“uncle sannie?” arin softly says into the phone, “can you help?”

“arinnie? where’s daddy? and why are you calling so late?” his laptop states it’s already 9pm, which is way past her bed time. he slams it shut, paces as they speak.

“daddy’s sick, uncle sannie,” she feels her lips wobble as she says it, trying to be clear, “daddy’s all hot and cold!”

“ah. is he running a fever? all bundled up in bed now?” when arin confirms it, san asks for his temperature. “okay, so daddy has taken his medicine and is sleeping, yeah? do you know what the thermometer said? the numbers?”

he hears the sound of the phone put down, arin shuffling around to fetch the thermometer. san gently guides her to change it to video call, and he’s met with a frowny little girl. she shows him the last taken temperature.

“‘m back, uncle sannie. lookie- um, three nine dot two,” arin recites, face filling the whole screen, and san has to ensure he doesn’t let the panic seep into his voice. what the hell. 39.2°c was an extremely high fever. “baby? are you still there?”

“yes, uncle sannie. dunno what to do, so i calls.” she says, tapping the screen as if she’s touching san’s cheeks, “i show! let me show you daddy.”

the video is a blur of colours as arin whizzes around, making sure to be quiet as she shows him a sleeping wooyoung. “daddy sleepy.”

“i see, okay- good girl, you did so well- i’m coming over now, alright? don’t open the door for strangers, and i will call you again when i’m reaching. do you know how to unlock the door?”

“mm! my princess stool, i press, door open,”

“that’s my clever girl. i’m on my way, honey. you just sit tight, i’ll be there soon, i promise. if anything happens, just call again. can you do that?”

“okay, sweetheart! arinnie sees you soon, byebye.”

when san reaches, he can see the worry and distress on her face. he kisses her cheeks and tells her how proud he is, that she’s managed to calmly phone him for help and ensure that wooyoung’s tucked in. she’s even placed a cup of water for wooyoung by the bedside, in her tiny my melody cup. with the little one in tow, san covertly takes wooyoung’s temperature. the fever has dropped a little, but it still persists. san wets a towel and places it on wooyoung’s head, hoping it will bring down the temperature quicker. 

“is daddy okay?” she pouts, helping to pat wooyoung’s head for extra healing, “daddy’s eyes are funny these days.”

“funny? how come?”

she shows him wooyoung’s lockscreen, phone clenched in her hand like a lifeline this whole time, and tells him in her own words that she’s caught wooyoung staring at their pictures and crying- but he said he didn’t. and lying is bad, so she knows her daddy wouldn’t lie. so maybe she did see wrong. they always got ice cream after, so maybe everything was really okay.

“feels like daddy’s sad,” arin softly says, not knowing how else to explain in a three-going-on-four year old’s limited vocabulary, “feels like daddy wants to say, but forgets the words. like, hm… like daddy wants to buy toys but forgets money?”

longing. yearning. pining.

“aigoo, has my little princess been worried?” san tries to lighten the mood, tickling her and checking on wooyoung again. it’s only a mild fever now, and he’s sleeping soundly, undisturbed by the two of them barging in and out, on their tiptoes, which is good. he changes the towel. if it rose any higher, he would’ve needed to give wooyoung a sponge bath. “sick is bad,” arin sighs, whole body slumping as she exhales, “need to kiss it better.”

“hm? what did you say?”

“me sick, daddy gives kiss, all gone,” arin curtly describes, using lots of hand gestures. soon, san understands from her that even when she falls and gets bruises or cuts, wooyoung will gently patch her back up, and kiss the spot that’s hurting. arin swears by it, that the injuries heal the next day. it’s true, because she’s back on the swings and slides and on the monkey bars and in the sandpit the following day. because daddy’s kisses are magic.

“try, uncle sannie,” she jabs at him, willing him to do something, “arinnie already kiss. now you kiss too. so daddy can be not sick tomorrow. then we can play.”

knowing that arin simply won’t back down (she’s almost as obstinate as her father), san gently presses a kiss to wooyoung’s hair, earning him a satisfied nod from the little princess. “good job, sweetie.”

“thank you, little love. let’s give daddy some space to rest, okay? let the magic work?”

he guides her back out into the living room, gingerly closing the door in fear of waking wooyoung. he must be exhausted, his body weakened. “tell you what, shall we have a special sleepover, just you and me? so daddy can rest up on his own?”

“yay! okay, uncle sannie!” she cheers, but keeps her volume down, mindful that her daddy’s sleeping next door. after lots of huggies, san pulls out the sofa bed and grabs arin’s stuffed toys and blankets when he sends her to get fresh pajamas. then he helps her to brush her teeth and combs her hair for her, bouncing her in his arms and coaxing her to sleep. he reads her a bedtime story and even offers to warm some milk for her, but she’s finally tired, which is good.

“tomorrow, i’ll check on daddy again, okay? my brave girl. thank you for calling me and telling me everything. i love you. let’s sleep now, and wish that daddy gets better soon.”

“i love you too, uncle sannie. thank you… for loving me, ‘nd for loving daddy.”

“aww, darling,” san pinches her cheeks as he tucks her into a blanket burrito, kisses her forehead. “both of you are just so easy to love. aren’t you the sweetest,”

“nighty night, uncle sannie.” then she softly adds, after kissing his cheek, “my daddy number two.”

san catches it, feels a myriad of emotions well up within him. pride. joy. apprehension. surprise. all shades of bittersweet. 

“don’t let the bedbugs bite, my baby. sweet dreams.”

good night, my little one’s little one.

wooyoung wakes up feeling more clear headed, but still a little groggy. arin’s not in her mini bed, so he’s rushed out, following the fragrant aroma. he spots a laid-in sofa bed, then connects the dots. someone else is in his house, cooking. in his kitchen.

arin’s sleeping in san’s arms as he heats up the ordered-in porridge over the stove, drooling over his shoulder. it’s almost 9:45 in the morning, and his hair’s decorated in arin’s colourful clips. it makes an adorable sight. san’s such a natural with his kid, it makes him feel all sorts of things. the way san moves about in his house, knows where arin’s bottles and clothes are. it feels like they’ve been living together, in all the domesticity possible- when san’s just been over a couple of times because arin refused to go to bed without seeing him.

more than friends, less than lovers.

“you’re up,” san plainly says, switching off the stove, using one hand to transfer the dak juk, adding egg and some vegetables to the chicken porridge. arin’s little bowl is already on the counter. “this portion’s enough for you and arin. sorry, i just used whatever pot’s available- i know you don’t like people in your sacred place, but the baby here needs to eat.”

says the bigger baby, wooyoung thinks, but keeps his mouth shut. if he pulls off the bullshit he did under anaesthesia (some colonoscopy) when woozy, he doesn’t know what he might say. “i’ll, uh, wash up.”

“sure thing, honey.” san says, a bit too naturally, in that softened voice, before he realises what he’s said out loud. “i, um-! i was talking to… arinnie?”

“right, okay. if you say so,” wooyoung’s sure he heard wrong. san can’t be calling him… these things. it’s for arin, yeah. it’s funny how they both sound unsure, statements more like questions. he’s going to interrogate arin when san leaves for work.

“anyway, the food will be cool by the time you’re back. it’s not bad, feels healthy.” so he taste tested? made sure arin’s portion is all bite sized and cooled for her, already separated in her favourite bowl? what the heck? “come eat when you’re ready. then you go rest again, i’ll entertain arin.”

when wooyoung is back, more awake after the cold water on his face, he checks his phone. he already informed seonghwa last night he wouldn’t be in today due to the fever, so seonghwa could prepare for today’s dishes as a stand-in. there’s no updates in their cafe’s group chat apart from well wishes and how much they miss him. however, the last page his phone was locked at is the call log. 

“actually, why are you here- hold on. arin called? what the… i told her not to- wait, why aren’t you at work? san, it’s 10am on a monday. you should be in the office..? where’s your laptop?”

it’s the first time in years, that san takes sick leave from work.

“i, um. long story. just eat, i’ll take care of arin. don’t worry, jagi.” they stare at each other, self-conscious. “sorry, i- just eat, wooyoung, i mean. sorry. don’t mind me, sleep deprived. haha?”

wooyoung minds. a lot.

after san came over to take care of him being sick, wooyoung starts thinking again. 

what happens if another pandemic happens, and he’s deathly sick with some sort of infection or disease. who would take care of his baby? he needs someone trustworthy too, not someone with malicious intent. someone arin likes. someone they’re both comfortable with. he once considered lavender marriage, but that would just overcomplicate matters. plus, arin seems unbothered by people talking smack. she’s got a backbone alright- that’s his girl. she lives and loves as big as she is, which is maybe three apples tall.

so he asks arin how she feels about having another daddy. 

to his surprise, she starts crying and wailing. she’s usually not this adverse to new things, even when wooyoung tries to get her to be adventurous with her food. she always says she will be brave for him, and it’s unlike her to react so adamantly to such an open question. “no! no! don’t want- just need daddy-!” she’s hiccuping as wooyoung rubs soothing circles down her back, “okay, okay, love. sorry. daddy is just asking. everything’s okay, my love. daddy’s here. don’t worry, sweetheart.”

“hmph, only-! only uncle sannie! and daddy-!” 

wooyoung’s hands stop, letting the heat of his palms radiate into her small body. oh. just like he’s made his choice, she’s made hers too. since the very beginning.

like father like daughter, they have the same good taste in men. what can he say? he’s raised a diva.

mingi (with his social butterfly connections) had managed to pull together an invite from dinero magazine, to feature the cafe. stylized as diner-0, a play on words for diner zero, the magazine featured hidden gems and favourite local haunts, including exclusive interviews and behind the scenes photos. hence the name diner zero, the diner that got a firsthand preview before you became the first diner in the cafe or restaurant. 

seonghwa and wooyoung are busy with the cafe tour, showcasing this month’s seasonal specials, while mingi and yeosang are helping out with the plating and food photography. hongjoong has managed to network his way to secure a two page spread instead, which was pretty impressive for how stringent they are on features.

one of the journalists have even done their research and brought up little kiki, who’s been a star in the online reviews. very much like the resident cat of a shop that visitors come to catch a glimpse of, wooyoung’s little girl has been a bit of a superstar too. however, said superstar is currently busy with her dinosaurs. and she’s a tad too young for a formal interview.

wooyoung had sent her to san, who’s now entertaining her by building dinosaurs with her, out of nuggets and fries. wooyoung manages to zoom and snap a photo or two, before duty calls and he’s back whipping up different dishes for the cameras to showcase.

arin’s winning so far, using a long, sturdy fry to mimic the long neck of a brachiosaurus. they’re making different variations, dinosaurs with tiny legs, ones with long tails, even some with spikes. ketchup as decoration and smiles, and arin manages to get yeosang to find her some sesame seeds for more realistic eyes. mingi hands over chocolate and caramel drizzle from the drinks counter, allowing her more fun in decorating the dinos. so far, there’s a stegosaurus, a diplodocus, a t-rex, and also a parasaurolophus, with a bitten french fry for the horn on its head. with every variation they make, san is whipping out his ipad to teach her the different names. she struggles with the many syllables, but it’s the effort that counts. rawr seems to be the word of the day.

“chef, could we also get a photo of you and your daughter, please? just for a small feature picture at the bottom of the column.” one of the journalists asks, “we understand if you would like to keep it private, so no unwarranted photos will be published without your consent.”

“oh, about that,” wooyoung tilts his head, mulling over it, then he decides it’ll be okay, arin’s already on some of their public instagram posts anyway. nevertheless, he appreciates the gesture of asking. “arin-ah, come here, darling!” 

his cute daughter totters over, bringing her winning nugget-saur, and wooyoung hurries to safely put it aside, carrying her to wash her hands. san’s done up her hair just now, in two space buns with the ruby clips and the cherry hair ties. it’s so cute. he wonders if san has been practicing. the other day, he did beautiful french braids with shoulder length that hair arin sports.

“uh, do you mind if… someone who doesn’t work here is also in the photo?” wooyoung softly asks, fighting a blush, and the journalist gives him a knowing smile. “chef’s choice,” she simply says back, “at your discretion.”

“daddy, daddy!” arin’s tugging at his pants, “photos, daddy! rawr!” he sighs and places the nugget-saur onto a higher place, fussing at her to wash and dry her hands. please, arin-ah, let’s be good, okay? let’s not keep the nice photo lady waiting. “there, you look beautiful, princess.”

he hesitates for a moment, wondering if he’ll be making a mistake, but decides to follow his instincts.

“san-ah!” he yells in equal measure, retying the crooked ribbon of arin’s dress, then waving a hand and gesturing for him to come over. “get your ass in here now!”

“hm? you called?” san ambles along, shy when wooyoung just comes over to smoothen his shirt collar, blush high on his cheeks. arin’s busy trying to reach for the nugget again, but wooyoung manages to get her attention with san. san’s like catnip for her, really. her bias is showing.

“we’re taking a photo,” wooyoung simply says, to which san asks in confusion, “huh, but the magazine is supposed to photograph the staff and the food and-”

“just-! just keep quiet and carry arin, will you,” he’s so sure his face is the colour of arin’s hair accessories, and his kid is busy adding fuel to the fire, helping to smoothen out the hems of san’s shirt in an imitation of what her dad just did. san does as told, hears a wheeee! when he picks arin up in a swoop. “so pretty, darling,” arin cups his cheeks, still busy mimicking her father, “you look beautiful.”

“says you, princess,” san boops her nose, making her giggle. wooyoung’s just there, fussing over her skirt as san makes sure her shoes are fastened properly, her frilly socks are pulled up and even. arin squeals and squishes san’s cheeks when he pretends to drop her, feeling playful. “baby, i told you not to bully uncle sannie, what happened to that?”

“but i looooove uncle sannie! rawr!”

“it’s okay, woo. let her have her fun,” san only smiles widely, giving him those honeyed eyes, and with all that toned, honeyed skin, wooyoung has to resist the urge to kiss him. san is so sweet and so good with his daughter. 

looking at the three of them, the journalist feels like she understands. san may not be part of the cafe staff or its owners, but he is a part of wooyoung and arin’s little family. “ah, sorry, sorry,” wooyoung quickly says when she merely watches them, not once interrupting their domestic shenanigans, “you can take the photo now. apologies.”

“not at all, we’re also thinking of what other snaps we can get, so none of us will need to disrupt each other for another photoshoot.” then she quietly adds, “i have a daughter too, with my wife.”

“ah, well. that’s nice,” wooyoung flushes, oh, she thinks we’re actually a family. then another voice in his head plays devil’s advocate, are we not? at this point? then what are we? too stumped to respond, san smoothly maneuvers the conversation, and the journalist somehow ends up showing them her family photo. “that’s lovely. say… could you help us to take a photo with our phone too, while you’re at it?” 

there’s a normal photo, all smiles, and another, with arin and her nugget-saur. and one more, holding seonghwa’s signature strawberry shortcake. and just because it’s cute, there’s a photo not for the magazine, of the three of them with whipped cream on their nose or cheeks, courtesy of a mischievous arin. it feels so correct that wooyoung feels all sorts of butterflies; his heart is racing like it’s formula one. he wonders if san feels the same, the way he didn’t correct the journalist at all, allowed the implication of the three of them being a family to remain.

what are we, san?

“hey, san…” he grabs san’s arm when the entourage of staff has left, and arin’s eating the cake, “thank you.”

“no, thank you,” san flushes, fiddling with his glasses, “for including me, when you didn’t have to.”

“oh, i- um, that’s-” god, he can never seem to keep it together around san. “you’re welcome..?”

“always happy to be of service to my favourite humans,” san disarmingly smiles, and wooyoung decides to shut the hell up.

when the column is published, the caption below the photo writes: (left to right) chef wooyoung, his little helper kiki, kiki’s favourite regular at carte blanche.

on top of the copies displayed in the cafe, a copy of the magazine is proudly sitting on the coffee table in wooyoung’s living room as well.

with his mother’s words of encouragement and arin’s well wishes, wooyoung decides to just be honest and ask. san also mentioned he had something to tell him, so hopefully, maybe- 

“san, i- i have a question..?”

“yes, woo? how might i be of service?”

san always looks at him with such a gentle gaze, it worries him. should a day come where san’s eyes become cold and hardened, instead of soft and warm, wooyoung probably wouldn’t know how to act.

“do you… would you like to date? go out with me?” wooyoung bites on his lower lip, suddenly all resolve wavering. the cafe feels like it’s spinning, everything is fading. “i know i… i have a child that’s not yours, and i’m not the best person, but i- i really like you, and if you feel the same- or, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a chance, um,” the moment the words leave his mouth, he feels so incredibly small. so vulnerable, so pathetic. “maybe- do you think we-” he can feel his eyes smarting. his vision starting to cloud. the silence is deafening. san’s widened eyes, caught unawares. why didn’t he see the possibility of san saying no? why, why did he not-

“i’m sorry, wooyoung,” san holds his hand tenderly, eyes equally glassy, “could you- could you give me some time? i actually wanted to tell you that i’m heading back to my hometown for a bit- i have some urgent matters to deal with. but now… god, i really don’t want to leave you hanging like this. i know it’s a delicate situation, and firstly, i would like to say thank you. for your bravery and honesty. i’m flattered and i don’t want to leave you like this, but really i do have to get going and-” san’s body language shows he’s hesitant to leave, but at the same time, he keeps checking his watch for the time. wooyoung can see the train ticket for nambu bus terminal to namhae intercity bus terminal sticking out from san’s wallet. fuck. this is real. he’s just stupid for wishing it would all work out. the words just die in his mouth and he bites his tongue, shoving every damn syllable back down his throat. fuck. this is worse than he ever thought. why. why did he ever think this was a good idea to-

“it’s okay,” wooyoung swallows, holding in his tears, making sure to still give san a small smile, “just go. i’m sure you’re needed back home. sorry for… for springing this on you. i didn’t know. that’s what you wanted to tell me, right? that you’re going back over the weekend? i understand. have a safe trip, san.”

goodbye, san.

“i’ll… i’ll get back to you, okay? don’t worry,” san looks at him, with an expression wooyoung can’t really decipher. all he’s doing at the present moment is fighting his hardest to appear anything but normal. blink away any sort of wetness, stare at the sharp ends in the ceiling so nothing will give it away. smile, wooyoung. remember to smile. “um, i- well, just-” if it’s any consolation, san looks equally distraught by the unfortunate timing. and just before he has any time to second guess himself, he gives wooyoung a hug, presses a kiss to his forehead. it’s chaste, but wooyoung chases the high of that ephemeral moment. “you take care too, young-ah. i’ll be back soon, okay? please send all my love to arin as well.”

“goodbye, san,” wooyoung offers a wave, unwilling to drop his smile until he sees san’s broad back rushing out, out of his line of sight. maybe out of his life. who knows. it’s anybody’s game now.

i’m in love, choi san. 

with you.

then he calls his mother, and cries.

there’s no answer from san, which is not normal.

radio silence since whatever that thursday afternoon was, and it’s almost closing time on tuesday. he doesn’t tell the rest of his coworkers what’s happened, but they can all sense that his mood has been dampened. they allow him to take his time, give him some space to breathe, and even take turns babysitting arin. today, arin’s out on a movie date that hongjoong and seonghwa have arranged after work. over the weekend, yunho and mingi brought her to the zoo, and yeosang and jongho brought her to a kid’s skatepark. she had a lot of fun and yesterday was an easy monday, since she was still exhausted. wooyoung’s really thankful that she’s distracted by his sweet friends, so she doesn’t see the awful state he’s in. she’s just a kid, she doesn’t need to share his stupid feelings and burdens.

rather than wallow and drown his sorrows in unhealthy mechanisms like alcohol, wooyoung works. he starts work even earlier, busying himself with cooking extra dishes and helping out with the waiting and cleaning even when he doesn’t have to. chooses to work a full day on the weekends, close up till it’s late or it’s time to bring arin home for her bedtime.

wooyoung doesn’t know if he’s worried or angry or unsettled or appalled. maybe it’s a mix of everything; he doesn’t know what he should be feeling. he tried calling san twice, again on the weekend, but it went straight to voicemail. he doesn’t know if he should be upset at san’s empty words, or upset with himself for being hopeful and stupid enough to believe it would all work out. 

maybe asking such a serious question out of the blue has startled san- who’s honestly just an office worker, if you think about it. san’s just a sweet guy that’s loved by everyone. he’s not here trying to be saddled in ‘adult’ responsibilities he didn’t ask for.

wooyoung just cooks. has a daughter. is as fruity as can be. it’s okay. it’s fine. he still has arin. everything will be okay. even if san doesn’t come by anymore, arin’s still young. she’ll forget him, go to kindergarten and make new friends. he’ll send her to learn drawing or piano or ballet. it’s okay. it’s just a few days. maybe san is sick. hopefully it’s nothing serious. maybe he deleted kakaotalk by accident. it’s okay. maybe imessage isn’t working in the countryside. it will be fine. didn’t he say urgent matters? maybe someone in his family isn’t well- he hopes everything is going okay back there. whoever it is, get well soon.

then his thoughts start to spiral. what if san got into an accident? what if some kind of landslide or earthquake happened? but there was nothing on the news, no urgent call. these thoughts make him sick just thinking of them. what if san’s hospitalised for some reason. what if he’s in a coma. what if he doesn’t come back? what if he has amnesia, and he doesn’t recognise-

“w-wooyoung!” a familiar voice brings him back to reality. the new windchimes they’ve installed by the entrance tinkles, like iridescent bubbles of a warm greeting. “oh my god- there you are. thank goodness, i thought i-”

san, here in the flesh. san, sweating and panting, with a gigantic assortment of baggage and a bouquet of red roses. san, looking like he ran from whatever station it was, all the way to the cafe.

“wooyoung, wooyo-” he breathes, shutting the door behind him.

“we’re closed,” wooyoung barely registers what he’s saying. “san? what are you-”

“i’m so sorry, young-ah,” san bows, a full ninety degrees, all while catching his breath. “please- please forgive me.” 

in that fraction of a moment, wooyoung feels hot, angry tears prick at his eyes. “you fucker! you ghost me for almost five days, come back with a fuckton of luggage, holding stupid ass roses, and what do you expect me to do? say it’s okay, i forgive you, i thought you fucking died or something bad happened but you’re back and now it’s all okay? aww, because you’re so cute choi san, you could do any kind of bullshit and i’d hit the ground running? just ‘cause you’re handsome and arin likes you so you think you’re all that-”

“i’m so fucking sorry, wooyoung,” san leans in to engulf him entirely, abandoning all his items. he didn’t even realise he’s started to cry when he saw wooyoung’s face crumple, amalgamation of words rapidly tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall. “sorry. i wanted to- i don’t know how to explain.” wooyoung’s hands move tentatively, but the moment san smothers his hair with apologetic kisses, everything goes. he closes his eyes and leans into the embrace, inhales san’s natural scent, holding his waist so tight; never wanting to let go. 

“okay, so long story short, i lost my phone,” san exhales, “yes, i know, it sounds like some ‘my dog ate my homework’ kind of excuse, but i swear to you, it really happened- and i just… i didn’t want to lose it, so badly, so i waited and asked the staff for their help to track it down and submitted separate reports at every possible station even when the phone is dead and i had no idea how to-”

“you could’ve gotten another phone to tell me,” a tiny voice weakly speaks from his chest, and san feels himself flush, feels the dampness of the fabric, “yeah. i realised after… but at that moment, all i could think of was losing your photos. of you and arin. and if i really just called after three whole days, i don’t think i’ll be able to salvage anything over the line.”

“there’s icloud, san. don’t be silly,” he’s punching san in the stomach now, although it’s futile. his resistance is gone. because if he lost his phone, he’d probably be panicking about arin and san’s photos too, icloud be damned.

“i don’t fucking know if i had that backed up, wooyoung, all i could think of was your pictures in my phone,” san sighs in frustration, then he adds in an embarrassed tone, “and also my phone case has… arin’s favourite my melody stickers. so… i can’t lose it.” a tiny pause before he adds, “by the way, she checks, you know.”

“you’re so fucking stupid,” wooyoung sniffs, wiping his snot and tears on san’s shirt, “so stupid.”

“i know. and yes, i am fucking stupid. would’ve been a generational fumble if i lost my phone and you,” san pulls them apart, eyes all red and raw as he holds wooyoung’s cheeks, “i could’ve called you on my way here, but i felt like a text wouldn’t suffice, and a call just wouldn’t do it- i knew you’d get mad and i needed to see you in person, so you know that i am truly so fucking sorry, and i- i really like you, wooyoung. let’s date. please, if it’s not too late and you’ll still have me-”

“i hate that i’m in love with you! so fucking much!” wooyoung yells at him, cheeks and eyes all red, “i hate how you have me in the palm of your hands, at your beck and call, and you could just say whatever and i’d take it because i really fucking like you, choi san, and you stupid motherfu-”

san caresses his face so gently he almost feels like he’s melting, disintegrating as their lips meet and collide and meld into one. san takes his time, exploring his entire mouth, like time is moving in slow motion, like the universe has stopped just for them. he feels like he’s floating, because san has literally picked him up by the waist just to kiss him deeper. wooyoung’s the one now cradling san’s jaw, holding onto dear life, angling his head for more, even more. this has to be the greed they talk about in the bible. there’s no other straight explanation. 

the sounds filling the empty cafe borderlines erotic, san licking and wooyoung biting; wooyoung can smell san’s heady natural scent, feel the cooled sweat of his sticky caramel skin. he’s knotting his fingers into san’s hair, tugging him closer, rougher, until wooyoung lets out an uncontrollable moan. it feels fervent, their bodies pressed flush together to chase that high. frenetic adoration as san devours every single loud noise he makes, to the point that when they pull apart, there’s a string of saliva connecting their spit-shiny lips.

fuck. that was crazy.

“what was that,” wooyoung says, breathless when san puts him down, “what the hell was that.”

“that was me trying to convey how much i love you,” san stares back at him, hair a mess and equally breathless, “did you feel it?” 

wooyoung just ignores it, instead changes the topic, heat staining his face like a permanent blush when they use their hands to wipe the wetness on their lips. “anyways. was everything okay in namhae? how’s your parents? and what’s up with the luggage..?”

“ah. about that…” san rubs his chin, going very red, “so the family emergency i mentioned wasn’t really uh, my nuclear family having an emergency? it’s um. about…” san is close to hiding his face in his hands now, “okay, so the reason why i couldn’t exactly give you an answer that day, even though my answer was so obvious- it’s, oh my god, i-” san looks like he’s about to burst into tears again, “sorry, let me drink some water,” he gulps down the entire bottle, all while wooyoung peers at him, in suspense, also taking his own swig of water. everything is going to be fine. “it’s okay. take your time.”

“i wanted to… it’s about us, wooyoung.” san tries to steady himself, “it’s about my extended family. our extended family.” he sees wooyoung flush when he realises what san is driving at. “and my mother… well, she seems to like you. by photos and videos alone. and um, the luggage is- i brought back my elder sister’s stuff, when she was like, young? i thought arin could make good use of it. uh, surprise?”

the first thing san’s mother hears her son say, when he reaches the family home in namhae, is mom, i’ve met the love of my life. i don’t know how, so please teach me how to raise a daughter.

that, followed by an entire crash course on how to deal with girls and puberty and quizzing her son on the menstrual cycle. thankfully, her son has been attentive and a gentleman, experienced from having an older sister. so he more or less has the basics down pat.

“san. you’re fucking kidding me.” wooyoung feels so emotional all over again, tears welling up. san went back home to ask his mom how to start his own home. and brought back his sister’s kid stuff. passing on his own sibling’s damn books and toys and clothes. this stupid gigantic mountain cat with his massive heart of gold and his stupid melty smile and those stupid soft eyes- 

“no, i’m not fucking with you.” san looks at him, eyes wet and shiny as he sucks in a breath, “i didn’t want to promise you anything when i left because i needed my mom to assess if i was fit to be a father- i dunno, moms know best and all that? so… do you forgive me now? i love you, wooyoung, i really do, i swea-”

“i hate you,” wooyoung cries, fists weakly pummeling into san’s chest, “you only know how to piss me off, you jerk-! you make me wait forever and you come back saying all this disgusting, romantic father-to-be nonsense-” 

san just looks at him so very fondly, with those pretty eyes that wooyoung could never say no to. “oh, and there’s this too.” san unzips the duffel sitting on top of the luggage, and wooyoung thinks this is the last straw. his heart just can’t take it anymore. he feels his legs want to give way. this is so-

“so uh, yeah. my mom got a bit excited and she also went to buy some stuff for arin,” san mumbles, cheeks pink, “hope you don’t mind.”

“you-! san, call her now.”

“my mom?”

“no, the police,” wooyoung rolls his eyes, pointing at his phone, “yes, sannie, call your mother now.”

“hey, mom, it’s me. um, actually-” the phone gets snatched out of his hands, lightning quick. “uh, hello? is this sannie’s eomma? hi, yeah, this is jung wooyoung speaking.” his grouchy face is now replaced with one of softness, holding the phone like it’s precious, “thank you for the beautiful things you got my daughter… and yes, he’s reached seoul safely in one piece.”

san looks on, fondly, watching wooyoung laugh and speak with ease as conversation flows. sees him get shy at something his mother says, watches as he nods and hums and answers. “yes, thank you. i always make sure your son is eating properly. ah, he gained weight since you last saw him? oh that’s good, very good! eh? he used to be skin and bones, you say!”

san sighs, his mother’s probably going on about his scrawny, twink-like appearance in the past. the good old days where san was a twig and now he’s a whole damn mountain. it makes him happy, though, that wooyoung and his mom are chatting like longtime friends. they get along better than fine at first speak. “yes, i will! i adore your son- you take care too, ma’am. i love you!”

before san can start interrogating him, wooyoung’s face is flushed and gone is the polite, sweet son-in-law-to-be facade. wooyoung holds out a finger, stopping him from speaking. then he uses his hands to make a letter T. he’s evidently flustered, with a whirlwind of thoughts written on his face.

“sannie, time out- i need, uh, just give me ten minutes please.” he shoves san’s phone back into his hands, takes out his own phone, and starts frenetically yapping.

“eomma?” wooyoung sucks in a deep breath before shouting, “mom! i just talked to his mom! just- yes, sannie’s mother! okay so he didn’t actually ignore me and i cried so much for nothing. yes, i know, you were right… he’s just a bit silly, stupid-cute, you know? he lost his phone and stuff and yes, i know… he went back and his mom even got arinnie new clothes! yeah, i know right? what the heck- i have manners, of course i told her thank you! mm, i know, yeah, i’ll bring him home soon, okay? oh shit, wait i forgot he’s literally here- yes, i will say sorry for leaving him alone. okay, yes mom i got it.” he finally stops to breathe, nodding as he presses his other hand to his chest, as if to calm his heart down. “yes, eomma, we’re eating well and we still have your kimchi. yes, arin’s doing great, eating well… he always feeds her so much. remember the dinosaur nuggets? uh-huh, that was him… ah, san is perfect for me, you say? what… you’re entrusting me to him already? yes i’ll be good to him, no i won’t yell at him. okay, yes, i promise… love you, bye!”

as soon as the call ends, wooyoung has the decency to throw his phone aside and squat, curling into a ball as he crouches in the corner, face in his hands. oh my god. i just spoke to his mother to thank her and then my own mother gives me her blessings to be with san. okay. so i’m great with the parents. but not the man himself. argh! what has my life become! i love this dumb guy to death, it’s insane… the last hurdle will be arinnie but that should be a breeze..? because arin and i love stupid-cute men?

“youngie?” san comes over, squatting so they’re at eye level, “hey, are you okay?”

wooyoung looks up, rosy cheeked, only for san to raise a brow playfully, “stupid-cute, huh? is that what my mother-in-law thinks?”

unable to form words, wooyoung only huffs and smacks him, both of them a mess as they wobble and stand up holding each other. “eunkyung ssi as your mother-in-law, my ass!”

“and you cried? a lot?” san’s cupping his face so gently, teary as he says it, “fuck. sorry. how many times am i making you cry? my heart really hurts. sorry, for making you worried and upset. i didn’t think… that my disappearance would cause so much… commotion,”

“you’re back, it’s fine,” wooyoung tries to appear unbothered, but his countenance says otherwise. both of them must look comical at how puffy their eyes are. “aww, don’t sulk, baby. look at me? i’m so sorry. i thought- you were smiling when i left-? wait, fuck, i’m actually stupid. i’m sorry, woo. how… please, how can i make it up to you?”

“i didn’t cry,” wooyoung huffs, insisting that he heard wrong, “and arin wants to hang out. go apply for leave or whatever. you need to bring her places, i don’t have a car.”

“hang out,” san repeats, eyes crinkling as he laughs, “you say that like we’re empty nesters trying to match their grown up daughter’s schedule,”

“we might be, one day,” wooyoung mumbles back, and san, ever attentive, catches it. “she’s barely four, young-ah…”

“so what, it feels like yesterday when i cut her umbilical cord,” he bites san’s cheek in kittenish impulse, affectionately. butter tteok, he thinks. soft. “and i need to tell her… no, you need to tell her, that… that you’re okay to also be… her… dad,” wooyoung feels his face heat up as he says this, almost like saying it aloud made it tangible, real. speaking this stuff into existence. san’s going to be arin’s other father.

“yeah, okay. right, i gotta…” now san’s the one that’s wearing a worried look, staring at wooyoung’s veiny arms, “what if- what if arinnie doesn’t want-”

“rubbish,” wooyoung kisses him, pouting cutely, “then i’m standing my fucking ground. jung arin accepts choi san or nothing. i’m her dad! surely i should have some say in-”

“your daughter literally bullies you into getting free cake and more toys, woo,” san laughs, “you’re weak to cute faces, did you know?”

“is that a roundabout way of fishing for compliments, choi san?” wooyoung scoffs, but he doesn’t bear any grudges, not when san’s serious about this family of three thing and holding his waist like wooyoung might just break his promise of being together and run away.

“compliments..?” san raises a brow, “what do you- oh. you think i’m cute?”

“a-arin thinks! not me.” his mouth says one thing, but his eyes say another. “you’re just… effortlessly put together… handsome or whatever,”

“oh okay, so you think i’m handsome? great, because i think you’re very beautiful too. so we’re compatible? is that what you’re saying in a roundabout manner?”

god, he’s never going to win against san, is he.

“jesus. yes! yeah okay fine-! i admit it, i also think you’re really cute. happy?” he could never stay mad, really, even if it’s just pretend. not when san is so over the moon he picks wooyoung up and hugs him and kisses him like there’s no tomorrow.

daddy wooyoungie! 

arin keeps calling him that, after she hears san address him as such. with time, she starts exaggerating the last syllable because it sounds especially cute. like how a kitty goes yaong! yaongie! her dad is a cat too, and thus should be wooyoungie! 

“daddy wooyoungieeeeeee,” she tugs at his apron with her neverending drawl, “yes, little love,” he rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. she’s seriously his mini-me. he used to annoy his mom like that all the time in the kitchen.

“he’s here, daddy,” she shoves the lilac card into his hands, suddenly shy, “your turn to give it.”

“you’re cutting a deal with your own dad!” wooyoung pretends to be shocked, hands covering his mouth, “i’m busy, give it to san yourself. and give him a cookie while you’re at it. his decaf coffee’s on the counter. can you manage, love?”

“yes, i can, arin can!” he only trusts her to deliver drinks that are cold and have a lid on them. he doesn’t know how he’d react if his little girl gets burned by hot coffee. “careful, sweetheart. no running, arin-ah! baby, what did i say about-”

“baby uncle sannie,” she says shyly after waddling over, balancing everything before san helps take over. “for you, sweetie.” then after pausing for a moment, she adds, “um, daddy wooyoungie wrote it.”

from the crooked writing, glitter glue and pink stickers, san’s pretty sure he can tell who the author is. “is that so? it’s beautiful. he sure has lovely penmanship- what i mean is, his writing is lovely. i love the stickers too,”

“thank you!” she radiates sunbeams, “i means, i’ll tell daddy later.”

in-wee-tae-shun to choi san the card reads, and san’s heart melts when he sees the remnants of pencil for his name, under the marker and glitter pen on top. she’s spent extra effort on getting his name right, then. 

when are you free to go out? plesse select day.

beneath it is a checklist of dates (which is technically every number on the calendar possible) and a box for san to write down his answer.

plesse chosse who gets to go.

there’s a neatly written choi san, obviously written by an adult, followed by a haphazard jung wooyoungie, jung arinnie. and then there’s also a few other names, as if the card is writing practice for arin. although, the rest of the names are all crossed out in their respective check boxes. there are also cute little doodles next to them.

☒ hong♬♪ 𓊝 ᶻ 𝗓  ☒ sseong₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ݁✮⋆˙

☒yuyu૮ • ﻌ - ა  ☒ssang;༊♡

☒ minki jeongೀ🜲  ☒ jjongʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

san ticks both wooyoung and arin’s names, and the little girl is practically shaking with excitement. she’s jumping with joy and holding her hands over her mouth, trying to muffle a scream. san guesses this is what it must feel like, when you watch your boss approve your vacation leave in real time.

he continues reading the invitation, taking it seriously, like a business proposal.

i, choi san, am happy to goes.

beneath are two choices- not really a choice, to be honest, but san appreciates the effort. 

☐ yes    ☐ very yes

he does a double tick at the second option, much to arin’s delight. she’s shouting all the way to the back of the counter to tell wooyoung, and san laughs when he sees wooyoung pick her up and flush when she points at san. we’re going, daddy, we’re going!

arin in his arms, wooyoung nods at him from afar in knowing thanks, eyes crinkling and smile so blinding even from a distance. the cafe is crowded today, so he’s not at liberty to start shouting over. thanks, san, he can see wooyoung mouth, followed by an exaggerated curtsy, she loves you so much.

san only raises an eyebrow, mouths back, and you? 

wooyoung just blushes- screw the crowd, it's noisy anyway- and yells at him to shut up. arin puts her hand over his mouth crossly, and yells over sorry, sweetheart, daddy doesn’t mean it.

“good morning, sir.” san politely says, after knocking on his boss’s door, “could i ask of you to approve my leave request for next wednesday?”

“this soon? i see you’ve filled it under family reasons,” his boss clicks at his monitor, scanning for any additional details, “all okay with your parents? i remember you took half a day off recently,”

“ah, no, sir. this time, i’m… taking my kid out. it’s been on my mind for a while, so i apologise for the inconvenience, i know it’s a bit sudden…”

“oh, no need for that, san. you’ve been an exemplary employee.” he clicks on the approval button, much to san’s relief. “it’s just that most of us assumed you were single- no wedding ring, always okay to work overtime or weekends, even public holidays, that sort of thing. but yes, you’re free to have wednesday off. thursday too, if you’re keen. not an issue,”

“thank you so much, sir. it’s uh, a bit complicated, but just so you know, i do have a daughter. a very beautiful daughter- her name is arin.”

san is a planner. 

he’s chosen to take leave on wednesday, also because tuesday is the 9th of july. arin’s birthday.

he calls wooyoung to apologise for ending work late, but he’s on the way to their house. proper man that he is, san made sure all his documents and emails were sent and accounted for, just so he won’t be called back or disrupted on his day off. 

while he was at work, wooyoung and arin were busy decorating a cake, adding extra strawberries and rainbow sprinkles. arin is more than thrilled to have almost the same birthday as the second most important person in her life, but she can’t stop herself from stealing the strawberries. she does leave the biggest one for san, smack in the middle of the ice cream cake. 

the door is unlocked like muscle memory now, san putting down his work bag and his gift before catching arin, who’s jumping and bouncing into his arms when she hears the door unlock. 

“hey, how’s my princess doing today? happy birthday, little one.” he’s gotten her more sanrio plushies, a nail care set for kids, more hair accessories, and a new white dress with little pink flowers on it. “san, you keep spoiling her… you didn’t have to…” wooyoung will pout, but san loves providing for them. “there’s the ribbon you asked me to get too, young-ah, it’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

“good. come sit, dinner will be served. i promised to cook you something special the first time i met you, remember? happy early birthday, san-ah.” he kisses san sweetly, then heads to the kitchen.

“daddy’s using the spe-shul box,” arin loudly singsongs, happy to expose him. the more you tell a kid not to tell, the more they want to say it. “spe-shul seollal box-! mmph!” wooyoung’s darting out to clamp a hand over her mouth, “arin-ah! i said to keep quiet-!”

“special box?” san’s eyes wander to the kitchen island, where he can tell the tableware used is definitely special, alright. najeonchilgi- korean mother of pearl lacquerware, a traditional craft in which wood is lacquered and inlaid with pieces of mother of pearl shell in decorative patterns, a housewarming gift from wooyoung’s mom when he moved to seoul and started to raise arin on his own. 

“i can see you thinking, stop it,” wooyoung chides, sighting san’s melty eyes, face softened, “mom got it as a jewellery box for arin when she grows up… she prefers the my melody and kuromi trinket boxes, so i made these into bento boxes for now. pretty, huh,” wooyoung beams with pride, face glowing whenever he mentions his family. he’s arranging the little dishes inside the box, while arin steps on her stool and watches him, fascinated. “i use it for special occasions,” wooyoung continues, wiping off stray smatters of sauce, using chopsticks to plate everything nicely. he can almost feel san’s intent gaze. “not just seollal, okay. you’re not that important, san. don’t let it get to your head.” he says all this, but there’s a permanent smile on his face. san is such a sweetie pie. cutieful, as arin likes to say.

“no, it’s just,” san licks his lips as wooyoung brings out the bento boxes, arin tottering after him, “everything about you is so pretty. so endearing. like the box is pretty, your daughter is pretty, your heart is so pretty-” wooyoung can see san blushing as he says this, arin just very happy to be there and hear pretty words, as daddy likes to say. “it’s just… i’m so happy to love you, and be loved by you.”

“i love you too, uncle sannie,” arin climbs into his lap, giving him a big hug, “like i love daddy.”

uncle sannie gives the best head pats, arin thinks, second to her father. so when she grows up, she hopes she can be big and tall too, so she can give daddy and uncle sannie lots of head pats and forehead kisses. 

dinner is completed in quiet happiness, and for dessert, they eat the decorated cake for the july babies. wooyoung’s babies.

“happy birthday, our arinnie- and happy early birthday, san.”

he tells arin to close her eyes and make a wish, to take her time as he fiddles with the strip of red satin. he wraps red ribbon around san’s head, strapped around the chin to form a perfect bow atop his hair. 

“okay, baby? have you wished?”

“mhm, yeah.” arin nods, a dreamy smile on her face as her eyes flutter open to stare at wooyoung, “daddy, i wished for uncle sa-”

“no toys this year, but would you look at your present, little love,” wooyoung gestures at san, who looks at arin with all the fondness in the universe, “happy birthday, my little arinnie.”

“uncle ruby san!” she leaps in for cuddles, “can yous come for dinner everyday, please?”

san simply tells arin there’s no present for her this year, it’s just himself- he points to the ribbon, smiling with his dimples when she calls him uncle kiki san. 

“your wish, dear. you wished for another daddy, didn’t you?” wooyoung’s patting her head gently, as she pulls apart the ribbon like unwrapping a gift.

“hey, arin. what do you say to me becoming your other dad?”

“daddy-! daddy, did yous hear-!” arin screams at the realisation, “ahhhhhh! yay! daddy sannie! daddy number two!”

“i heard loud and clear, honey.”

wooyoung, the annoying showy dad that he is, always has to dress him and arin in complementary outfits. it’s mandatory, no excuses. daddy-daughter twinning, he likes to say, and arin is always excited to play matchy-matchy dress up. wooyoung has a whole folder of their outfits, which occasionally make it to his instagram as a photodump. since today is more about having fun, he’s opted for casual denim and made sure she has on sneakers for all the walking they might need to do. as told, san comes dressed in denim after sending a million photos to wooyoung for shade matching.

wooyoung greets san with a bright smile, him and arin in matching black sunnies. arin’s gotten her nails painted purple too.

“woo… why are you two in sunglasses. we’re gonna be mainly indoors?” he quirks a brow, amused but also exasperated. his boyfriend is just so damn extra. “why, i got you one too,” he sets the spare pair of prepared sunglasses onto san’s nose, “see, we’re hot as fuck,” he’s careful to mouth the last word, “of course we gotta show off. the jung household motto is to show up and show out! start taking notes, sannie!” with that, him and arin’s noses in the air like posh people, they march off to san’s car, starting the day on the right footing.

they drop by the convenience store, and the one moment he lets his daughter out of sight to get a snack, she causes chaos. it’s never a dull day with arin.

“baby, please- you need to put that back,” wooyoung’s trying to pry the bright pink box out of her hands, but she holds tighter. “wan’ it, daddy! strawbewwy!”

“arinnie, listen to me, love,” her fingers have an iron grip, “daddy will get you more candy, okay? you can have three more items if you put this back-”

“big c!” arin obstinately points at the first capitalized letter of the condoms, “c for candy, daddy- why no candy!” 

wooyoung only pats her head, pleading eyes shooting san a look that says honey, help me out here. jagiya. do something. now. to his horror, san only gleefully smiles at arin, “if the princess wants it,” he takes the box out of her hands, adding it to their basket, “then we’ll get it, okay, darling?”

“daddy sannie!” arin hugs his leg, before scampering off to hunt for more chocolate and candy. “san!” wooyoung kicks him after she’s disappeared into one of the aisles, “you put that back right now-!”

“can’t be disappointing my sweet girl, can i?” san hides the basket behind his back much to wooyoung’s rosy dismay, “we can put it to good use, not to worry,”

“you’re looking way too smug over a box of ‘candy’,” wooyoung huffs, shoving him just for added annoyance, “who says we even need to use-” he feels himself flush as he whispers, “i can’t get pregnant, san. if you don’t want to… it’s also… fine by me,”

san only bends to kiss him, smug smile still plastered on, nose scrunched cutely, “we can do both,” the grin becomes wider at wooyoung’s flustered reaction, the punches to his arm weak, “we need to tell her protection is important, no? as parents we need to practice what we preach?”

“san, you’re going to be the death of me,” wooyoung hisses back, stepping into his space and making san backtrack as his eyes darken, “don’t rile me up if you can’t keep up with my pace,”

“who says i can’t-” curse that stupid eyebrow thing san does. “wooyoung, put that tongue away now-”

“oh yeah?” wooyoung smirks back, fighting fire with fire, “you seriously think you can last if i wear the-”

the conversation just has to stop at the climax. wear what? just san’s oversized shirt and nothing else underneath? lingerie and lace? cat ears? a skirt? what? his lucky underwear? or nothing at all, just body chains and the couple necklaces that they wear? wear what exactly-

“daddy, i want this one!” arin’s back with more gummies, racing in between the couple, interrupting the (very interesting and important) conversation. a nice disruption from the racing thoughts. “daddy, kitty gummy!” she lifts up jellies that look like cat paws, shoves into the basket chocolate mushroom snacks, more strawberry candy, and some biscuits. “daddy, can i..?” she points at another packet of kirby wafers when talking to wooyoung, then sanrio chocolates when talking to san, “daddy, look-!”

“yes, honey. sure, let me just put it in,” wooyoung sighs, raking a hand through his hair as he tosses the snacks into san’s basket, before giving san a flirty wink. ah, so san caught the innuendo, “daddy’s going to have so much fun with your box of strawberry candy.”

they took every possible ride in lotte world that arin’s height restriction allowed for, bringing her to kidstoria and the camelot carousel as well. she’s all tuckered out after going full sugar-rush mode, refusing to remove their matching headbands even when they’ve reached home. it’s the first date wooyoung’s been on in years, and he couldn’t be happier.

a little like domestic bliss, a lot like love.

san has never been happier about going to the gym so much, before meeting wooyoung. now, he perpetually has the world in his hands- one hand carrying arin, the other hand holding his boyfriend. wooyoung had once faux-sulked about san making him carry the groceries, evidently just teasing him, but san had gotten really concerned and apologetic. sorry, baby- here, give it to me. i can carry them. wooyoung had just told him he was goofing around, flushing at the instant chivalry, because haven’t you seen those silly videos on tiktok! it’s just a joke, people are actually carrying three luggages and obviously tied up but it’s just funny that- and san would just frown and grab the groceries to hang on his other elbow, arin sitting proudly on her throne still. do i look like i would have an issue with three luggages plus your hand? c’mere jagi, my hand is still free. won’t you hold it? you’re keeping me waiting? 

every other day, something playful just has to backfire on wooyoung, and he couldn’t be happier. since you want to hold me so bad, he will lie, biting his lip and ignoring the blush on san’s and his cheeks, fine, we can hold hands, i guess. can i help with some of the groceries, at least…

san tells him no, but he can help with kissing his hands better or whatever arin once said.

when arin turns four, wooyoung decides to send her to a nearby yuchiwon, to kindergarten to prepare her for elementary school. 

and when she falls in love with some guy called choi seonwoo, wooyoung almost does a double take and spits out his coffee because what the fuck is that the combination of his and san’s names. okay, so it was just a handwriting issue mixing up the vowels, but anyways. that’s not the point. the point is his daughter has already been asked on a playdate two months into kindergarten. by a fuckass boy. a boy!

“guys, you’re scaring arinnie,” seonghwa says, sitting on the opposite of a very grim-looking wooyoung and san, arin on his lap. they look so serious, interrogating her about this stupid boy that seonghwa has to resist the urge to laugh. he’s already instructed the others in the back to keep quiet and just take pictures where possible. meanwhile, he’s here as mediator. he knows how scary san can look when serious, and how crazy wooyoung can get when shit hits the fan.

“arin-ah,” wooyoung says with an all too sweet smile on his face, “did seonwoo give you candy or something? that you want to go to his house so bad? daddy can buy it for you-” is he bribing you or holding you at gunpoint, is what wooyoung wants to say.

“no! just wanna go-”

“who else is going?” san leans in, trying his best to give a smile, but failing miserably, “and for how long? where is his house? are his parents going to be home? how many other boys and girls-”

“guys, please-!” seonghwa doesn’t know to laugh or to cry at how stupidly serious this is becoming. wooyoung and san are acting so territorial you’d think arin was a teenager trying to elope with a broke, deadbeat boyfriend. 

wooyoung’s daughter, however, takes after her father and doesn’t have a care in the world. she fights for her rights, just so you know.

“dunno if other people going. but arinnie is going! hmph!” she huffs, thrashing about in seonghwa’s hold, “gonna be lots of bread and snacks-”

“arin-ah, my love. you know daddy can make all of that at home for you,” wooyoung says earnestly, “and san is also going to get down in the kitchen to bake if you really want that. right, san?” he gets kicked under the table, so san offers a nod. “arin-ah,” he tries next, “i’ll also buy you whatever you want, so-”

“nuh-uh! i’m going, i’m going-!”

“there, there,” seonghwa gently coaxes her, shooting wooyoung and san a death glare, “knock it off, you two. just let her go for a bit. it’s good for her to mingle with kids her age... if anything, she’s gonna call you if she gets uncomfortable. and you two could always use some alone time..?”

the two parents immediately look at each other, and seonghwa wants to disappear when san starts blushing and wooyoung’s wearing an all to smug smirk, eyes shining. oh, he totally can see wooyoung’s hands on san’s thighs now, teasingly rubbing and drawing circles or hearts or whatever. and then san’s hand on top of his such that their fingers intertwine and he stops stroking his thigh. god, these two idiotic lovebirds.

“okay so,” wooyoung dramatically says after clearing his throat, trying to hold back a laugh, “after some consideration. since you insisted soooo much, princess. both daddies will drop you off and you absolutely must come back home for dinner. i’ll be at his doorstop not a second later than the time on the invitation, okay? and no whining when we come to pick you.”

“yayyyyyy!” she turns around to give seonghwa a big kiss and a hug, “thank you, thank you uncle hwa! you’re the bestest and i love you!” seonghwa laughs, thank god this could be resolved by a damn hint of you guys can go make out and do whatever for two hours or so.

“arin-ah, what about me? am i not the bestest?” san sulks opposite her, and immediately she jumps out of seonghwa’s hold like a lithe little kitty, peppering san’s face with kisses, “i love you, daddy sannie. you’re also the best-”

“yah! jung arin, are you forgetting who raised you on his back and clothed you and fed you when you were just a tiny, wee little thing-”

“i love you too, daddy wooyoungie. you are the bestest too!”

it’s true, arin is different.

she has two dads, who both get cards on mother’s day and father’s day. always in pairs.

but they show up to every parent teacher meeting. every performance. sports day. family day. every recital. ballet. swimming. piano. everything.

our sweet baby girl.

it reaches the point that even the most skeptical kindergarten teacher has warmed up to her having two fathers. they even recognise the other of her uncles that come to fetch her, on days her dads are out on dates.

when asked to draw a family portrait, arin is different.

jung arin is special. 

her family portrait has herself in the center, with six uncles in the background behind her, both dads on each of her sides.

how many men does it take to raise their sweet baby girl?

sometimes, it takes a village.