Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When Yoongi was twenty-one, he thought he knew what home was.

At twenty-one, home was the two bedroom apartment he was raised in, the city bright and noisy and wild just outside his open window. It was Appa coming home late from the restaurant, but always with stories of unpredictable customers, patrons, and tourists, all leaving with full stomachs regardless. It was Eomma packing him lunch before he went to campus every morning, no matter how many times Yoongi insisted he wouldn’t be able to eat it until after all his classes anyway.

At twenty-one, home was Nina Park; her kind eyes and bewitching smile. He thought he had it all figured out, young and dumb and naive, but he knows that was never the case. He thought he knew everything. Twenty-one was the age he was so sure of himself, and at twenty-two, everything changed. Not in a minor, I-just-graduated-university way. Rather, it was in a truly, unpredictable life-changing way.

When Yoongi was twenty-two, he got his very own kid. It scared him—like it would just about anyone else—to see the product of his own stupidity, to be able to cradle a tiny newborn and understand it was alive. That even if this was never what he and Nina wanted for their lives at twenty-two, it was their new reality. Becoming a father was never something he imagined for himself. That was the last time he told himself he knew what home was.

Now, at thirty-nine, it’s weird to wake up in a space he casually calls home, even though it is far from the home he once knew so well. He rolls over in his cold, vacant bed, the central heating tickling the hair on the back of his neck and sunshine bleeding through his blinds and into his eyes. Yoongi knows his alarm must not be far from going off, but these days he doesn’t even need it; becoming a morning person, he’s realized, is a serious downside of aging.

He puts on his glasses and his slippers and leaves his bedroom as quietly as possible to get started on breakfast. He pulls open the drawer overflowing with bags of coffee beans and browses through the options to start off his morning.

“Appa?” A tiny, sleepy head peeks out from the hallway once the coffee machine is running. One eye is shut, the other is peering through strands of her untamed hair, chin drooping. Something about the childishness of it makes Yoongi smile. “What time is it?”

Yoongi glances over his shoulder to check the clock. “Almost seven,” he says, looking back at Elise while she shuffles over to him. Zombie-like, yet her smile is sweeter than anything. She buries her face into his chest as her arms go for a hug. “What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?” he asks, kissing the top of her head. Elise only burrows into him further. “There’s time before school. We can pick up a pastry from JJ’s.”

“What about oppa?” Elise asks, voice muffled by Yoongi’s sweater.

“Unless he’s awake—”

“Wait.” Elise pulls back suddenly, her hands braced on Yoongi’s forearms. She looks up at him with her eyes slightly narrowed, then her face lights up upon some realization. “Appa. It’s your birthday.”

Yoongi chuckles and nods; he knows that. His morning thoughts were assaulted by that very thought. “It is,” he says, letting go of her to face the coffee he started making for himself. Now that he offered to pick up JJ’s, he sort of doesn’t want it. But two cups of coffee won’t really hurt him, right? “I’m super old now, right?”

“You said it, not me,” Elise replies with a giggle, pulling him down by his shirt to press a dry kiss to his cheek. She’s the only one in their little family that does any good at blatant displays of affection. “Wait, but it’s Thursday, which means I’m gonna be at dance until six…” She pouts, tugging on Yoongi’s sleeve. “We have to do something. Come on, it’s your first birthday not in New York.”

“How do you know that?” It isn’t untrue, at least not entirely. Yoongi has traveled outside of New York to celebrate his birthday, but the trips never took place on his actual birthday. Either way, a couple of times it was a trip into Jersey City with some friends for the day. He never really cared enough to celebrate beyond that. “Not like you were here for the first twenty-seven years of my life, huh?”

Elise elbows him in the ribs, quick and playful. “I’ll go wake oppa up and I think we have enough time to get breakfast at JJ’s before school,” she says, and pushes Yoongi out of the kitchen with her palms pressed to his hips. He trudges along, back towards his bedroom. If Elise wants something, she sets her mind to it. “You get dressed. All you have to do is drive us there. Oppa and I will take care of the rest.”

“Whatever you say,” Yoongi replies.

True to her word, Elise gets Jae up and dressed in a record of ten minutes, dragging both of them down to Yoongi’s car parked just outside their building around seven-thirty. JJ’s is a short, two minute drive down the street. Traffic isn’t as horrendous as it will be in about thirty minutes, and Yoongi cherishes that fleeting emptiness on the road. He is not looking forward to his commute later.

They found JJ’s the morning they first landed in LA. Mostly because Yoongi was dead on his feet after getting in, and they hadn’t managed to set up his coffee machine (which he uses very, very rarely anyway), so Jae found this local coffee shop and saved him from his misery. It’s been one of the best coffee spots he’s been to since moving to California. No one makes a refreshing Americano like they do.

“Welcome in! I’ll help you in a sec!” a voice calls, way too bright and delighted for early morning, but that’s Jungkook for you. The top of his head pokes out from a stack of cardboard boxes being carried out of the kitchen, exposing a pair of wide, blinking eyes. “Oh, hey. I wasn’t expecting you so early today.” He sets down the boxes and somehow his eyes widen even more. “Oh my god, are these the kids?”

Yoongi puts his hand on Jae’s shoulder, glancing over at his son. “This is Sungjae,” he says, and turns to Elise staring intently at the few pastries displayed through a small window. He takes her by the shoulders and pulls her away from the window, in spite of her resistance. If he doesn’t stop her now, then he’ll end up with too many pastries on the way to work. She never finishes them. “And this is Elise.”

“Your dad talks about you guys all the time. I swear, I’m not exaggerating,” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin, sending a wink in Yoongi’s direction, then ducks his head a little. He peers into the pastry case, just like Elise was a minute ago. “What can I get you, Elise?”

“I’m still thinking,” she replies, and waves her hand towards Yoongi a little half-heartedly. She’s already gravitating towards the case again and Jae snickers, mumbling something about her being a lost cause. He isn’t wrong about that. “Appa, I’ll pick you something too, okay? It might take a while.”

“Hurry up. You’re gonna make us late to school,” Jae says, but steps up right beside her to do the same.

As the kids choose something from the display, Yoongi just steps up to the register and orders his usual coffee. “You don’t look like you’re having the best morning,” Jungkook says as he taps the screen a couple times, leaning one arm against the counter. By the look of it, he’s the only barista right now, but he’s bound to be joined by one or two others soon. “Doing all right, Yoongi?”

“Looks are deceiving,” Yoongi replies, watching with an odd mix of concern and amusement as Elise tries to shove Jae aside, despite him being twice the size of her. He’s not sure whether he should stop it or just let it happen. Kids are bound to fight. “My morning’s all right. It’s…” He pauses, unsure of what to say. Do people usually share that it’s their birthday the day of? Does that even matter? “It’s, um, my birthday. Basically, I feel old.”

“Happy birthday, then.” When Yoongi looks over, Jungkook’s smile is quieter, softer. It’s interesting how one simple action can change a person’s whole look. “How old are you turning?”

Yoongi huffs out a laugh at the question. “You’ll never guess,” he says, reaching out to swat Jae’s arm from trying to pull Elise into a chokehold. The entertainment only goes so far before it goes from two puppies fighting to a cat full-on attacking a mouse. Which is the last thing he needs right now. “Thirty-nine. It… doesn’t even feel like that’s a real age.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Yes, actually.” Yoongi nods his head. “Very much a thing. I wish it wasn’t.”

“Well…” Jungkook says softly, his hand resting briefly on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Happy birthday. I really do mean that.” He pauses, and his warm touch vanishes only after a fleeting moment. Part of Yoongi aches for it to return. Anyone’s touch would be fulfilling enough. “Did your family ever do anything for you? Growing up, I mean.”

Not really. All Yoongi ever got as a kid was a traditional home-cooked meal for breakfast, practically force fed to him by the time he reached high school. At some point, Eomma stopped making it, so Yoongi convinced himself that he didn’t care all those years. Now that she’s too far to make it for him, he realizes why this morning felt a little empty. Why it all felt a little wrong.

“Not much,” is all Yoongi says, smiling as Elise skips up to him with Jae trailing a couple paces behind. “What’d you guys decide?” He tucks back a strand of Elise’s hair, just for her to fix it back in front of her eyes. He sighs; why does he bother? “Did you pick anything for me?”

“Do you like almond danishes?” Jae asks.

Yoongi shrugs. “I can work with it,” he says, mostly to get a kick out of teasing him. Jae just puffs a piece of hair out of his face and crosses his arms.

“Can I get a coffee?” Elise asks, all excited and hopeful, and Jungkook laughs.

“That’s cute, but absolutely not,” Yoongi replies, and she lets out this overdramatic sigh before ordering herself a hot chocolate like usual. Jae, on the other hand, simply gets a hot tea. It’s baffling how he ended up raising two complete opposites. “How about you Jungkook? Anything new with Nari?”

Jungkook moves from the register to the espresso machine and Yoongi mirrors him on the other side of the coffee bar while Jae and Elise go sit at a table. Whenever there’s a chance, he tends to linger and chat with Jungkook. He’s just the type of guy who’ll talk and talk and talk if you let him, but he has his quiet moments too. Yoongi has seen the days where he can only offer a tired smile and leaves it at that.

In fact, the first few weeks with Jungkook were like that. On the chance that Yoongi walked into JJ’s and it was Jungkook working, he would be greeted with a bright customer service smile and overly sweet voice, not a doubt in his mind that it was genuine. Until he saw that get chipped as familiarity took its place. Now after all this time, with his tired smiles, Jungkook rambles on about anything—usually his own kid—and Yoongi listens.

Today, though, his bright, full smile with all his teeth has not dimmed even once. “Nari is making me want to rip my hair out, as usual,” he says with a laugh, hands moving with practice, going from one drink to another without so much of a blink of his eye. Yoongi hasn’t worked a job like this in years, but he doubts he was ever this skilled. Again, nothing beats the iced Americanos here. “She’s driving me nuts. I scrub pen marks off her arms nightly. I don’t know how to stop her.”

“Her… arms?”

Jungkook lifts an arm and does nothing but flex his muscles for the pieces to fall into place and Yoongi to understand. Tattoos are inked into his skin, countless and colorful, sprawled all over whatever Yoongi can see, from his arms to the lengths of his neck. He’s gotten so used to it that it didn’t even register why Jungkook’s kid out of anyone would be drawing on her arms.

“When I was at my other job last week, her principal called me about it. Apparently it’s too distracting or some shit,” Jungkook says, paired with an eye roll. Yoongi does the same because it really is some bullshit. He knows first-hand that kids will draw on anything and everything, no matter what an adult says. He imagines it’s worse with Jungkook and his tattoos. “So… scrubbing. Until she learns to stop.”

“Did you try talking to her about it?”

“Of course—this is the hot chocolate—but I also don’t really…” He trails off into a shrug, then a sheepish laugh as he moves towards the back counter. He’s moved onto finishing up Yoongi’s coffee. “I don’t know if it’s the right parenting choice, but I don’t want to discourage her.”

Yoongi nods along. “No, you’re right in a way,” he says, accepting his drink and the warmed-up danish that Jae picked out for him. He takes a sip and nods his head, feeling rejuvenated just from a taste. “Maybe you just need to find her another surface aside from her skin. Or you could lead by example? Draw on paper or something else so she forgets about the tattoos.”

“I didn’t even think about that.” Jungkook puts down Jae’s tea alongside Elise’s hot chocolate, wiping his hands on a towel. Looks like the topic is troubling him. “I guess I’ll try that? Just as long as her principal doesn’t yell at me again. That was scary.”

“The hell? The principal yelled at you?” Yoongi furrows his eyebrows. “What type of school yells at a parent?”

Jungkook shrugs. “The one my kid goes to, I guess,” he says, but Yoongi still thinks there’s something off about that. An administrator is bound to piss off a parent by being rude to them. And parents have all the power when it comes to defining the reputation of the school. “I mean, I’m fine. It was really minor. She didn’t seem like a very happy woman in the first place, so.”

“Tell me if you need anything,” Yoongi says and raises a finger to gesture towards his kids. “I’ve had my fair share of troublemaking in school, so I know how to handle administrators. Plus I deal with enough administrators as it is at work, so I’m experienced from there too.” He pauses to take another sip of his coffee. “You guys live around here?”

“Oh—yeah, of course. Just down the street.” Jungkook folds his arms across his chest with a rapid nod and heavy sigh. The more Yoongi looks at him, the more he seems to carry that “exhausted dad” look. Sagging shoulders and a detached, sleepy look in his eyes. Telltale signs. “I grew up here too. Well, not here exactly. Just in LA County. You?”

“We live close by too, but we’re from New York,” Yoongi says, and smiles at the sight of Jungkook’s eyebrows shooting up. He gets that reaction a lot. Mostly because he doesn’t really dress like it and he doesn’t talk much outside of work, so whatever accent he has doesn’t always catch on. “Surprised?”

Jungkook scans Yoongi’s body up and down once, then twice like it’s just that unbelievable. “I mean, yeah,” he says with a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. Is it really that difficult to wrap his head around? “You don’t really give off a New York vibe? Seriously, if you didn’t say anything, I’d be convinced you were an LA native.”

“Nah, no way. I think there’s a little too much New York in me for that,” Yoongi replies, pulling the danish out of the pastry bag to take a bite. Not too sweet, just the right amount of savory—either Jae knows him well enough to choose this, or it was a lucky guess. “The kids, though, I have a feeling they’re adapting a little too well.”

“Too well?” Jungkook asks, teasing. He pokes Yoongi’s shoulder with his index finger. “Afraid they’ll become Californians instead of New Yorkers?”

For some reason, the thought literally pains him. “A little bit,” he admits, but as he looks at them sitting at the table together, it isn’t that terrifying. As long as the three of them have each other, then he’s okay with them exploring themselves. Even if it’s bittersweet to watch them grow. It all happens so fast. “But hey, I guess that’s what makes me special.”

“I’m sure there’s more to you than that.”

Yoongi shrugs and checks the time on his watch. Already almost eight? “Oh shit, I have to go,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. He waves to get the kids’ attention, then shoots Jungkook an apologetic smile. “I’ll catch you another time, yeah?”

Jungkook nods his head, eyes shifting away when a couple of people walk into the café. “Sure. I’ll see you,” he says, and does a little wink with finger guns before heading to the other side of the counter. It’s oddly adorable coming from a guy as heavily tattooed and pierced as him.

Before he has a chance to look away, Elise is begging Yoongi to get a move on so they aren’t late, and the three of them are out the door so he can drop them both off at their different campuses. By the time he gets to work, thirty minutes later, he’s already forgotten the supposed importance of the day.

++

Yoongi finds out that being thirty-nine is not so different from being thirty-eight. None of his responsibilities have changed. He doesn’t feel like it’s such a significant difference other than the fact that next year he’s turning forty-years-old and that is a godawful number that he never wants to be. At least he probably won’t be having the same crisis he was having when he was turning thirty, nearly homeless with two small kids and not very many options on where to go.

He’s lucky in that sense. Even though Eomma and Appa weren’t very accepting of Yoongi’s poor decision making at twenty-one, he is still lucky that after a couple of years, they welcomed their grandchildren with open arms. Nina’s parents cut them off completely and anytime their family ended up in the same space, they didn’t acknowledge them. That used to tear Nina to shreds.

Back then, Eomma let them stay in Yoongi’s old bedroom in the apartment he grew up in. Three to one room; where Jae took the twin bed and Yoongi slept on the floor with Elise tucked beneath a protective arm, covered in fuzzy blankets, no room for discomfort. As difficult as it was, Yoongi is not sure whether he preferred that over being multiple states away from them.

Maybe it’s his own attachment issues. Maybe it’s the fact that in his entire life, Yoongi has only lived as far as a borough away from his parents. A safe distance, enough for him to come running back if he needed something. Being so far puts him in a position where he needs to take a six hour flight just to see Eomma face-to-face. He can’t call her up and ask to meet at a café when he needs to talk about his problems anymore.

That’s supposed to be fine. Going to cafés alone is hardly the presiding problem here, but honestly that fucking sucks too. Yoongi sits for hours on end in JJ’s, grading and drinking coffee, admiring the calming atmosphere, but always alone. As different as it is from Queens, Eomma would still enjoy it. She would especially like the flowers in the small garden near the front window, neatly kept by one of the owners.

Yoongi’s eyes hurt. He’s been staring at his laptop for nearly three hours grading midterm papers. The nose pads of his glasses are beginning to leave even deeper indents on his face from how long they’ve been resting on his nose. He’s tired, a little irritated, and the last thing he wants to do is go home to the kids. He already knows he won’t be in the mood to deal with anything they throw his way.

“You look miserable,” Jungkook says, sliding a fresh iced Americano across the table Yoongi is seated at. “I think you could use a pick-me-up.”

He is not wrong. “Thanks,” Yoongi replies, eyeing the backpack over Jungkook’s shoulder, the way he leans against the edge of the table with all his weight with one hand. It tips the table over, just slightly off-balance. “You off your shift?”

“Yeah, I just got off. You’ve been sitting here for most of it, so I figured you might need a break.” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, the dangling metal in his ears tinkling sound, almost like music. He has this boyish look about him, even with the piercings and tattoos. Cliche, boy-next-door, shy. “I was hungry. Do you want to get some food with me?”

“Shit. Food sounds really good right now, actually. What are you thinking?” Yoongi lowers the screen of his laptop, but not fully. If he shuts it entirely, then it’s like he’s inadvertently admitting that he really doesn’t want to be here. When he does want to be here—just not to grade midterms.

Jungkook puffs some air out of his mouth, then laughs a little. “I didn’t think that far ahead,” he says, tucking a few pieces of hair behind his ear. The rest of it is pulled into a small ponytail at the back of his head. “Honestly, I do get fast food more often than I care to admit. Or, like, I go to 7/11 and grab ramen or something.” He smiles, as if this is embarrassing when in fact, Yoongi has done that more often than he likes to admit, too. “Not really big on the fancy restaurant thing.”

“Since it’s you who just got off a shift, I’ll just tag along to wherever,” Yoongi replies and shuts his laptop completely to pack up his belongings. He’ll just send Jae and Elise a text once they figure it out and bring them back something for dinner. Easier than concerning himself with going home and cooking. “Best thing to help you narrow it down is cuisine.”

“Easy. Always craving Asian food.”

Yoongi snorts into a laugh, shoving his laptop into his bag. “Makes two of us,” he replies, picking up his new coffee to have a sip. When he looks at Jungkook, he’s got this funny half-smile on his face. Like Yoongi just made the joke of the century, wide eyes sparkling. “I guess the logical thing then would be to get Korean food.”

Jungkook nods along, falling into step with Yoongi as they exit JJ’s into the chilly evening. No one really warned him about that when he moved to LA from New York, of all places. He was under the impression that California would be all sunshine and warmth the majority of the year—and it is—but there are a surprising amount of winter months. If anything, the weather here just skips over fall and Yoongi’s guessing it’ll be the same for spring soon.

“Have you found anywhere you like for Korean food?” Jungkook waves his hand in the direction of the trafficky streets, bumper-to-bumper cars, the sound of wheels rushing over pavement. Yoongi never thought the sound of busy streets would bring him ease, but it does. “I mean, like, there’s so many places. Nari and I go to a lot of them. But we also eat a lot of tacos and cheeseburgers which are really good too.”

“Not really, not gonna lie. I end up cooking ‘cause I get picky about it,” Yoongi says, poking his tongue into his cheek thoughtfully. Despite that, surely there would be at least one spot that serves a hearty Korean meal. He doesn’t have a single doubt. It’s Koreatown, after all. “Like I said, I’ll eat whatever. Just pick a place and I’m with you.”

“Do you drive?” Jungkook asks. “That will make our lives easier. I don’t have a car.”

Yoongi points to the ugly gold sedan on the far end of the small parking lot. His driving skills are pretty shit; everyone thought he was stupid for getting his license as a teenager, but it paid off after moving. Still doesn’t change the fact that he hates driving more than anything. He’s a firm believer that every big city should have reliable public transportation.

“It’s a little…” Jungkook trails off with a wince. He looks like he’s trying very hard to not judge it. “Sorry dude, but like, it’s really janky. My dad’s car looks better than that. Does it work all right?”

“Yeah, it’s all right.” Yoongi scrunches his nose up when he looks at his car again. Sure the paint job is more than sun faded, appearing more peachy than gold, and he needs to get the left headlight repaired, but it works. It gets him to work and back without needing to sit through traffic on a stuffy bus. “One of the headlights is busted. But the engine works and that’s all I really care about.”

Jungkook takes out his phone, thumb tapping the screen, scratching at his jaw a couple of times as he looks at something. “There’s a dumpling place near Nari’s grandparents’ house that I like, so we could go there, I guess?” He laughs and adjusts the bag over his shoulder, and Yoongi bumps his glasses frames up his nose with a knuckle. “I feel like I should know what’s good around here.”

If only they were in New York. Yoongi can already think of at least five spots in his neighborhood that’d satisfy his craving. “I like dumplings,” he says, nodding towards his car. They may as well get a move-on before traffic gets worse. It’s about that time of day. “Let’s just go there. I’m picky, but I’m not that picky, you feel me?”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” Jungkook says, skipping to catch up to Yoongi’s stride, hands held behind his back. He smiles, and his eyes just… light up, corners crinkling. It’s adorable. “You were working in the café for a while. What do you do?”

“I teach,” Yoongi says as he dumps his bag in the trunk, offering the space for Jungkook to do the same. He shuts it with a resounding thud, leaving his palm resting on top. “Midterm season’s a bitch for professors too. The students out here don’t really get me yet, but I think they’re starting to.”

“You teach at a college?”

Yoongi nods and drifts to the driver’s side door. “USC.” It still feels strange saying that whenever he introduces himself to new people. Kind of like imposter syndrome. He shocks himself with where he is, how he even landed himself a position like that. Looks like Jungkook is having a hard time believing him too. “I know. I can’t believe it either and I’ve been working there for seven months.”

Jungkook settles into the passenger seat with his seatbelt on, palms resting on his knees. “So you grew up in New York,” he starts, and casts a glance left to check if Yoongi’s following. And he is, so he nods, and lets Jungkook finish up his thoughts. “Then just moved here, like, recently? After living in New York your whole life?”

“Yup.” Tough choice, it was. Yoongi sat on the job offer for two weeks before he accepted it. “I don’t love it here, but it’s good. Better in some ways, annoying in others. Like this.” He pats the steering wheel before he uses it to back out of his parking spot. He nearly bumps into the car next to him, but that’s fine. Totally cool about that. “Fuckin’ hate driving.”

“I wonder if having a proper subway system here would make a difference. But like,” Jungkook pauses, glancing down at the stereo with a small smile. A pop song is playing, radio tuned to a station that Elise likes. He usually doesn’t bother changing it. “Earthquakes. Not sure that would do any good. I’d be too paranoid to ride one.”

“I get it, kind of. Certain train lines flood in New York when it rains, so I’d be paranoid trying to get to work on those days.” At a red light, Yoongi takes Jungkook’s phone to see where he needs to go. A few streets down, a right turn, then a left. No freeway business, but there’s still traffic on the surface streets. “Man, my first earthquake here scared the shit out of me and the kids.”

Jungkook laughs at that. “No, that’s fair,” he says. “My first big one was when I was like, five or six. Summertime. Shook the house so hard that pictures fell off the wall.” He shudders after that. The one Yoongi felt a while back made him feel like he was swaying back and forth. Nothing broke, but it lasted for so long that Elise started crying. It freaked him out real good. “Nari’s pretty good about them. She does the whole duck and cover thing, it’s really cute.”

“How old is she again?”

“Seven. She’ll turn eight this year.”

“How old were you when you had her?”

Jungkook hums thinkingly. “I’m turning thirty this year and she’s turning eight, so I guess I was twenty-two?” He pauses for a couple of seconds. “Or twenty-one turning twenty-two. I don’t know. I’m pretty bad at math.”

“Oh shit, really? I had Jae when I was twenty-two too.” Years ago, but still. How odd that they were the same age. “Is it just you or…”

“Yeah, uh… My ex flaked after a few years.” His voice gets quiet, painful. Heartbroken memories are behind that and Yoongi knows. He understands that pain. “Nari still visits her parents and stuff, so it’s cool. They’re really nice and helped us a lot when she was first born. Same as my friends.”

It was the complete opposite for Yoongi. Both Nina’s parents and his own shut them out as soon as they found out that they were pregnant. For a couple of years, it was Yoongi, Nina, and occasionally some of their friends. That added support only lasted so long, and she was a good mother, in spite of everything between them. There was a time where she had her priorities straight.

“What about you?” Jungkook nudges Yoongi’s arm with his hand, masking that subtle brokenness with a new teasing attitude. “I haven’t heard you mention anyone beside your kids.”

“It’s been me and them for about ten years,” Yoongi says with a sigh. Time flies so fast—too fast, sometimes. “The situation is complicated. I don’t—yeah, it’s just a mess.” He takes a sip from his coffee as he makes a sharp turn, wincing as the back wheel rolls over a curb. “My ex stays in contact with Jae, I think, but that’s it. We’re better off.”

“Wow. Ten years? Alone?”

Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek and answers with a begrudging nod. Not because he’s embarrassed or anything, but more because he truly was alone. Two kids on his hands and two aging parents, it was just him trying to juggle everything life decided to throw at him. He’s grateful for the relief from that, at least.

“Okay, I had to remind myself you’re almost forty and that makes a little more sense,” Jungkook says, and it punches a pained laugh out of Yoongi, straight from his gut. Somehow almost forty sounds worse than thirty-nine. “Were you married or something?”

“My mom kinda pressured me into proposing, but we never did. Glad I didn’t now.”

Jungkook laughs again. “Yeah, my mom tried at first too,” he says, then sighs with another, quieter laugh. Breathless and a little disbelieving. Yoongi gets it. “It’s funny that she did, actually. She didn’t even like my ex in the first place.”

Yoongi shrugs. Most parents get obsessed with image and how their friends will see them in context to how successful their children are—apparently that includes whether they’re married or not. It still bothers Eomma that she has to explain that Yoongi had two kids without being married first. It’s not exactly his proudest moment, either.

“It’s this place,” Jungkook says, pointing to a storefront as Yoongi drives past it. “Just turn right and then there’s parking here, I think.”

“Thank god,” Yoongi mutters as he turns into the lot. “I can’t parallel park for shit.”

The inside of the dumpling shop is exactly how Yoongi imagined it to be. Maybe that’s something universal about Korean dumpling shops—it’s a tiny-ish room, with only about five or six tables and a number of chairs scattered here and there, some stacked up near the back corner. The menu is small, only about five different types of dumplings, which is fine with him as long as it tastes good.

“So you grew up in LA?” Yoongi asks, once they’ve ordered and settled at a table. Jungkook is sitting across from him, fixing his hair in the wall mirrors, pouting as a strand refuses to stay down.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, a shy smile on his lips. A flush of red colors his skin, from his cheeks to his ears to his neck. Hopefully Yoongi isn’t doing anything to make him nervous. “Um, yeah. I guess. Not really in this area at all, though, but more north-ish? In the valley? I don’t know how else to explain it. LA County is very big.”

“I wouldn’t really bother explaining precisely where. I’m still not super familiar with where things are.” Yoongi checks the time on his watch and sighs. He should probably check in on the kids at least. Make sure that Elise got home from dance class okay. “All I know is I do not like driving thirty minutes away to take my kid to her dance lessons. It just takes so much time.”

“You know, getting to my parents’ house already takes, like, twenty-five minutes without traffic but it ends up taking forty? It’s so annoying.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and Yoongi gets that. He spends so much time in his car that he probably hates driving more than he did before he moved here. “What part of New York are you from?”

Yoongi smiles a little at the question. It’s been a while since he’s needed to share where he’s from. “Queens.”

“You miss it?”

“You have no idea.”

Jungkook offers his sympathy through a small smile, this gentle upturn of his mouth. “I know nothing about New York, so…” He puts his chin in his hands, giving Yoongi his undivided attention. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. I’ve lived in California my whole life.”

At first, Yoongi doesn’t want to—he lets Jungkook share tidbits about what it’s like to raise a little girl like Nari while working as a barista and tattoo artist. But once the food arrives, he can’t help but tell Jungkook about those five different Korean restaurants he knows in his neighborhood. The Korean barbeque place reserved for special occasions, the two dumpling spots that competed for the best in the neighborhood, the snack bar, and his family’s little seafood restaurant that Yoongi worked at his entire childhood.

And like Jungkook said he would, he listens. He’s an active listener, too. He asks questions about the restaurants, compares them to what he knows about living in Koreatown. The kid’s got interesting perspectives on culture and diversity—part of Yoongi wishes he connected with Jungkook sooner. All these months Yoongi has wasted time on trying to get to know his white coworkers when someone he clicks so well with was just down the street.

This is better, Yoongi thinks. This is better because those coworkers wouldn’t even attempt to understand him, even just being from a completely different state, let alone race. This is better because Jungkook gets the dad thing, too. They’re both young—well, maybe Yoongi isn’t anymore—and single and Korean, and it’s just better. Yoongi is grateful. Might even start calling Jungkook a friend.

Before they leave, Yoongi orders extra dumplings to take home for the kids. Jungkook doesn’t, and mentions while they wait that Nari’s grandparents usually feed her when she’s over there.

“You mind taking me to pick her up?” Jungkook asks as they walk out, Yoongi’s hands occupied by his phone and the to-go bag with dumplings. “It’s not far.”

“Sure,” Yoongi says. He leaves the dumplings in the backseat and takes a minute to text the kids about bringing home some food. “Uh, you know the address?”

Jungkook extends his hand, and Yoongi lets him take his phone so he can start the car. The engine comes back to life and another pop song crackles through the speakers. “Here,” Jungkook mumbles, and Yoongi checks out the directions before letting his phone rest in the cupholder. “It’s in the opposite direction of JJ’s, so hopefully you won’t have a hard time getting home.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I’ll survive.” Yoongi knows for a fact that he won’t be touching his work laptop again until Sunday morning, and as much as he hates driving, he can handle a little bit of traffic on the drive back. Anyway, it’s not far, just like Jungkook said. “Do you get along with your ex’s parents?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. They treat me like a son and I like them more than my ex,” Jungkook says with a loud laugh, his head leaning against the window. Yoongi peeks at him at a red light; the guy looks exhausted. “Mel is just… a flawed person. She didn’t want to be a mom, I guess. Definitely not while dating me, but…” Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t care anymore. Nari told me she doesn’t like her either.”

Yoongi doesn’t even have a chance to stifle his laughter before it comes out. “Sorry,” he says, following the GPS as he takes a left turn into a more residential part of the neighborhood, the car bumping along the road. “I’m just surprised. A seven-year-old said that?”

“Imagine my reaction. Jaw literally dropped.”

“Damn. You got a bold kid.”

Jungkook laughs again. “She takes after me,” he says, sitting up as they get closer to the house. Yoongi slows down and pulls up, parking half into the driveway. Jungkook doesn’t get out quite yet; instead, he turns to Yoongi. “So. I know this is a reach, and I don’t know if you’ve made friends out here yet, but my friends and I do like a monthly kickback sort of thing? The next one is next Saturday. Would you and your kids want to come?”

Oh. So this is a mutual feeling. It isn’t just Yoongi clinging to the only semblance of friendship he’s gotten in literal years.

“I think I would like that. I’ll check with them too,” Yoongi admits with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s not sure what to do next, it’s been that long. “Um, should I give you my number?”

“Yeah! Lemme just find my phone.” Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, fumbling through his pockets for his cellphone, but comes out empty handed. “Shit, I think it’s in my bag. Can I go grab it?”

“Yeah, of course. I wasn’t gonna hoard your stuff.” Yoongi turns off the car and climbs out, popping the trunk with the button on his keys. He squints into the setting sun, the flood of golden hues and pink skies, half-hidden by the ever present smog lingering in the sky. His attention is swooped from the sunset when he hears the deafening cry of, “Appa!” heading in their direction.

Before Jungkook even has a chance to sling his backpack over his shoulder, his tiny seven-year-old—tinier than normal, at least—is launching herself straight into his arms. She fits right against his chest, her little arms winding around his neck to clutch onto him. Reminds Yoongi of the days where his kids were small enough to fit in his arms. There it is again—he feels so old.

“You came back so laaaate,” Nari whines, bracing both hands on Jungkook’s face, while he struggles to carry her weight while also picking up his backpack. Yoongi watches from where he’s leaning against his car; it’s not like he can leave without Jungkook’s number, or without him moving away from the trunk. “Who’s that?”

“This is Yoongi,” Jungkook says, repositioning himself so Nari can see his face. Yoongi grins and waves, endeared by how Nari curls up and tries to hide in Jungkook’s neck. She must be a shy kid, despite her boldness. “He’s Korean too, so you can call him Yoongi-samchon, right?”

Yoongi honestly hasn’t had anyone call him that—none of his Korean friends in New York ever had kids—but he finds that he doesn’t really mind. He guesses he’s at that age now. “Does she know any Korean?” he asks, glancing up to Jungkook’s face to see him nodding his head enthusiastically. “Hi Nari-yah.”

“Hi…” Nari giggles and hides in Jungkook’s neck again, her eyes a little droopy. Must have had a fun afternoon with her grandparents, then. She even drops her head a little like she’s bowing. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you know my other samchons?”

“Hm… not yet, I don’t think so,” Yoongi replies, tapping his chin with his index finger as he pretends to think. He misses having kids this little. “But maybe I’ll meet them soon, if your appa lets me.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, searching his backpack for his phone, finally pulling it out from one of the small pockets in the front. “That’s what I’m trying to do here,” he murmurs in English, and tries to type with one hand, the other arm still occupied by Nari. But as it turns out, it’s difficult to carry a seven-year-old while using your phone. “Nari, I’m gonna need you to get down.”

With a dramatic whine, Nari slips out of Jungkook’s arm when he kneels. “I’ll go say bye to Tita then,” she says and gives Yoongi a big wave. Her eyes are near-identical to Jungkook’s—wide and full of life. “Bye Yoongi-samchon!”

“Bye Nari,” Yoongi calls after her with a laugh, watching her barrel back towards the house, right into her grandmother’s legs. “Man, she’s adorable. You’re teaching her Korean and stuff?”

“I’m trying my best,” Jungkook says as he types something on his phone with one hand, one hand reaching up to push back his hair. “My parents pay for her lessons on the weekend but it’s still hard for her to grasp, I think. Here.” He passes his phone over, and Yoongi takes it, typing his phone number. “Mel’s parents aren’t fluent in English, so. She’s a bit trilingual.”

“Tri?” Yoongi hands Jungkook’s phone back over and checks his messages to make sure the exchange went smoothly. “She’s a mixed kid?”

Jungkook’s smile is a little guilty, this time. Yoongi’s not sure why. “Uh, yeah,” he says with a quick nod. “We mostly speak English and Korean at home for obvious reasons, but she’s decent at Spanish too.” His laugh comes out shy, embarrassed, kind of like he’s choking on something. “I’m pretty shit at Spanish. But I get by. I’ll text you about next Saturday?”

Not like Yoongi has anything better to do on his weekends. “Sounds good,” he says with a nod, and a wave goodbye.

A friend, Yoongi thinks during the drive home. He finally has a friend.

++

Come Saturday morning, Yoongi is surprisingly anxious about their afternoon to be spent at Jungkook’s friend’s house—he lives somewhere northwest of here, another part of LA County he hasn’t been to yet—and he does not know how to handle it.

Unsurprisingly, it is the first thing Jae picks up on when he emerges from the darkness of his bedroom.

“You’re frowning,” Jae points out, immediately going for the box of cereal in the pantry cabinets and the gallon of milk in the fridge. Yoongi scowls further into his steaming coffee; yeah, he’s frowning. He agreed to go to a stranger’s house and now he has to worry about first impressions. “Dad. What is it? I haven’t seen you look this stressed out since, like, you had to tell Halmeoni that your wallet got stolen.”

That was not a proud moment as a New Yorker, even if he did miraculously get it back. “I’m worried about the… kickback, or whatever the hell Jungkook called it,” he mutters, folding both hands to rest on the back of his neck, applying pressure to relieve the tension. Seriously, why does his stress always build in his neck and shoulders? “You and Elise are still coming with me, right?”

“Coming with you where?” Elise comes skipping out of her bedroom at the mention of her name. She goes for the same cereal that Jae is eating—Cinnamon Toast Crunch, a family favorite—and dumps a whole bunch into a bowl. “Oh that thing. The thing. What did you call it?”

“A kickback,” Jae says with a mouthful of cereal. “It’s like a party.”

“Yah, chew then talk. That’s gross,” Yoongi says, and takes a sip of his coffee, pulling the sleeves of his sweater over the edge of his wrists. “A party? Shit, how nice should I dress?” He leans back against the chair and sorts through his closet in his mind. Surely something in there will work out. “Jesus. I hate having to be social.”

Elise giggles into her hand; at least she finishes her bite before she talks. “You’ll be fine, Appa,” she says, reaching across the kitchen table to gently pat his hand. It does bring an odd sense of comfort, even if she’s mostly being sarcastic with him. Seriously, who teaches her this shit? “As long as you don’t tell them you’re a huge nerd.”

“I am not a—”

“You read books. Who the hell still reads books?” Jae interrupts, then backtracks with averted eyes. Yoongi raises both his eyebrows. “Sorry. My point stands that you’re a nerd but I’ll be a little nicer about it next time.”

“You’re both brats,” Yoongi mutters in Korean. “Who raised you, huh?”

It takes a couple seconds for the two of them to burst out laughing. He laughs along, listening to the call of, “You did!” as Jae returns to his bedroom. Elise follows suit, her door left ajar and cereal taken with her.

Yoongi sighs into his coffee and returns to the age old question: what the fuck is he supposed to wear?

In the end, he does the smart thing and calls Eomma about half an hour before they need to leave. He showered and put on clean loungewear, and he stared at his closet for a total of five seconds before deciding he needed help. She’s pretty much the only reliable woman in his life, and her sense of fashion is better than anyone ever. He trusts her not to make him look like an idiot.

“Yoongi-yah? I can’t see you,” Eomma says when she answers the phone, and Yoongi sighs because it’s really so obvious that it’s because she’s covering the camera, since he can’t see her either. “Why can’t I see you?”

“Because your entire hand is covering your phone, Eomma,” Yoongi replies, scratching the top of his head. After a couple of seconds, Eomma’s face is revealed; she’s sitting at the kitchen table, iPad in front of her, glasses on and all her long, wavy hair clipped out of her face. Her smile is so warm, and Yoongi misses her. “I need your help.”

“With what? Is it a parenting thing?”

“No, I—” He pauses, looking away with warm cheeks. “I need help dressing myself.”

Eomma laughs. “You’re an adult, Yoongi-yah, you should be able to handle this,” she says, but it doesn’t sound like she’s going to refuse helping him. She’ll probably get a kick out of it. “All right, tell me what the occasion is and I’ll help you through it. What’s the weather?”

“Sunny. Kind of windy, but mostly very sunny,” Yoongi says, glancing back at his closet, brushing his hand along his sweaters. “I met this other Korean dad at a café near our place and he extended an invitation to a party type thing?” He purses his lips as he comes to yet another realization. “He didn’t specify what. He invited Sungjae and Elise, and it’s for lunch. I don’t know much else.”

“First… find a shirt, hm? Then something to wear on top if you’re outside,” Eomma directs, and Yoongi moves over to the side of his closet which carries most of his shirts. Mostly button-ups. His t-shirts are stuffed into one of his dresser drawers. “What about that polo I gave you for Christmas a few years ago?”

Honestly, Yoongi completely forgot that. “I don’t think it’ll fit me anymore,” he says once he pulls it out of the closet. It seems about a size too small, it definitely shows that once he holds it against his chest for Eomma to see. “I have another one that, uhh, someone sent me for my birthday last year. But I don’t know if I want to wear that.”

“Someone?”

“Nina.”

Eomma doesn’t respond for a couple seconds. “Hmph,” is all that comes out of her mouth, and Yoongi goes back to rummaging through his closet. He wasn’t fond of Nina sending him gifts either, but sometimes it’s like she actually remembers their old friendship, before they became lovers. Before they had Jae.

In ten minutes, Yoongi is dressed in a dark shirt (to avoid food stains, Eomma said) and some loose trousers, a thin cardigan on top. He’s comfortable, so that’s a plus. Eomma complains, eventually lures him into wearing the watch she gifted him and dressing up the rest of his jewelry, then proceeds to scold him for not bringing something for the hosts. It’s fine, so long as whoever else is there won’t make him feel uncomfortable about it.

The three of them get going a little late and traffic is unhelpfully horrendous. Jae keeps everyone’s spirits up and minds distracted by raving about some new Korean artist gaining popularity in the music world. He talks so much that Yoongi eventually tells him to let the music speak for itself. (He ends up liking it, but he doesn’t tell Jae that.)

Jungkook’s friend’s house is picturesque; complete with a luscious garden, plants and vines growing out of a planter box, and a fence gating off the yard. At least the fence isn’t a white picketed one. Then he’d really be scared that he’ll be walking right into a living, breathing American dream household.

Yoongi does not have a chance to prepare himself for when the door swings open and Jungkook appears, cheering, “You made it!” He is holding a little box of apple juice in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. Interesting combo, but Yoongi’s seen worse. He’s definitely had worse. “Come in, come in. You guys are right on time for food. Sungjae and Elise, right?”

Jae shrugs as he enters, pushing off his shoes to keep to the side. “Just Jae’s fine,” he mumbles, head lowered. Yoongi kneels on one knee to untie his shoelaces. Why did he think his nice shoes were right for the occasion? Clearly it’s casual if Jungkook’s outfit is something to go by.

“What should we call you?” Elise asks, already waiting with her shoes off and hands behind her back. For a bratty troublemaker, she really knows how to pull it together for a few minutes.

“Uh. Jungkook-samchon, I guess?” Jungkook shrugs, kicking the door shut with his hip, flipping the lock once again with his index finger. “It was colder outside than we thought so everyone’s in the family room. Usually we’re in the yard. It’s just through the kitchen, Jin-hyung’s still prepping, so don’t mind him.”

Yoongi rises to his feet and slips his clammy hands into his pocket. “Thanks for inviting us,” he says, walking alongside Jungkook, into the kitchen. As soon as they make it, Jae goes straight for the cooler and Elise follows, eyes curiously searching for the rest of the house. “I appreciate it, seriously. We… the adjustment has been hard.”

“I can’t imagine, honestly,” Jungkook says, tipping back his bottle of beer, still clutching the juice box with his other hand. Yoongi peeks over at the cooler and ends up grabbing a beer too; maybe it’ll help him unwind. “Okay, let me introduce you to everyone. That’s Jin-hyung, this is his and Joon’s house. They own JJ’s together. You know, J names.”

“Clever,” Yoongi says, popping the cap off the top with a bottle opener, leaving it on the counter. He turns his head to watch Jin shuffle around the kitchen with a pink apron tied around his waist and a small child on his hip. She’s absolutely adorable; chewing on the fabric of her dress sleeve, but still adorable as hell. “And the kid?”

“A semi-recent addition,” Jungkook says, touching Yoongi’s shoulder to guide him through the kitchen and into the family room. The kids hover close behind. “Yeoreum. She’s about three now. Three? Yeah, I think so.” He clears his throat and gestures to the group of guys chattering away in the family room. It’s more like they’re bickering, actually. “Stay with me here, there’s a lot of us. The tall one is Namjoon.”

The man Jungkook is referring to is certainly tall; he’s bulked up similar to the way Jungkook is, but his smile is dimply, laughter loud and abrupt. Talking with his hands and occasionally fixing his glasses. He seems nice. Awfully familiar too, but Yoongi can’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe he’s been around JJ’s since he owns it with Jin.

“He’s married to Jin,” Jungkook continues, and sends Yoongi a wary look, as if he’s waiting for a reaction. To be honest, he doesn’t really care about other people’s sexual preferences so he just nods for Jungkook to continue. “Okay, then there’s Hoseok. He and Joon met in college, he’s super sweet. I feel like you’d like him. The other two are Jimin and Taehyung. They’re horrible and inseparable.”

Yoongi laughs a little, shifting awkwardly, rubbing the tip of his nose as he goes to drink from his beer bottle. The six of them seem so… close. Tightknit, almost familial. He’s not sure how exactly he’s going to fit into all of this. Or if he’s even going to fit in the first place. There’s so much that can happen between now and this evening.

Behind them, a small, whiny scream breaks out from the kitchen, something in Korean about not wanting to go down for naptime. “That doesn’t sound good,” he says softly, then glances down at Elise practically gluing herself to his right arm, still surveying the house with a bottle of water in hand. “You used to sound exactly like that, you know?”

“Appa.”

“No, seriously,” Yoongi continues, just because he hears Jungkook’s poor attempt to stifle a laugh on his left side. Maybe he can impress them with his terrible humor. “Drove me and Eomma crazy. Crying in the morning, evening, and night. Nothing ever got you to sleep except for, like, my horrible singing. Our neighbors hated us.”

Jae snorts and adds, “It really is horrible,” and Yoongi whacks his arm lightly because that’s two jokes at his expense in one day.

“My juice!” Nari pops up from behind Jungkook, jumping to try grabbing at the juice box in his hand. She doesn’t even glance at them, which is all right. Yoongi only met her the one time, so he doesn’t expect her to remember. “Appa, please? Please. I didn’t even bother Jinie-samchon in the kitchen like you asked me to!”

“Speaking of,” Yoongi says, with a turn. He glances at Jungkook to find his gaze steadily on him, wide eyes blinking expectantly. “I’m just gonna say hi to him. Since this is his house and all.”

Jungkook nods his head. “I’ll be in here,” he says, and gets Nari to settle down with a quick smile in her direction. She crosses her little arms with a frowny pout and waits. “Let me know if you need anything. You’re kinda my liability.”

“I was kidding when I said that,” a voice says, coming in from the kitchen doorway. Yeoreum is still on Jin’s hip, but the apron is off and a bright smile is on. He doesn’t look much older than anyone else in this room. Probably younger than him like everyone else. “Seokjin Kim, or just Jin. Proud owner of JJ’s Café, unfortunate hyung to all these morons, and beyond inexperienced dad. You’ve gotta teach me a thing or two.”

“Um, sure.” Yoongi nods and puts his hand on Jae’s shoulder for emphasis. “I’m Yoongi. These are my kids, Sungjae and Elise.” A quiet huff falls from Jae’s lips, but the noise is soon replaced by a polite smile in Jin’s direction. “I was telling Jungkook, I really appreciate you inviting us. The whole making friends thing isn’t as easy as it seems when you’re completely new to the area.”

Jin encourages Yeoreum to tuck her head into his neck, rubbing her back slowly, urging her into a nap on his shoulder. “You know, I really didn’t mind,” he says. “We always have open doors. I know this is probably out of the way from the area, since you’re out by JJ’s, but really.” He nods, decisive and firm. “I may not be a good dad yet, but I’m sure as hell a great hyung.”

“Are you really my hyung?” Yoongi blinks a couple of times. “You don’t look old at all.”

“I’m thirty-nine. You?”

Yoongi laughs. So that’s why things don’t feel as tense. “Same,” he says. “And while we’re at it, Jae is sixteen and Elise is eleven. For now. They both have birthdays at the end of the year.”

“My birthday’s on Halloween,” Elise cuts in, rocking on her feet, grinning all bright and mischievous. He’s just proud of the fact that she’s actually interacting, unlike Jae. An antisocial teenager at his finest, truly. They’ve both become on the less-social side after moving. “Oppa’s birthday is in August. And Appa just had his birthday a couple weeks ago.”

“Oh?” Jin raises his eyebrows and readjusts the grip on Yeoreum, who readjusts her legs around his torso, lips smacking. She must be far into dreamland now. “I’m definitely your hyung, then. By three months, but still. I’m December-born, so I’m turning forty this year.” He shudders. “Terrifying.”

“He acts like he’s still twenty-five,” someone says from behind them, and the tall one Jungkook introduced as Joon steps up to Jin’s side. They carefully transfer which parent is carrying Yeoreum, and she looks tiny, sleeping all curled up on her dad’s shoulder. Her sleeve is still stuffed into her mouth. “Namjoon Kim. I heard you’re Jungkook’s newest find. Yoongi, right?”

They already know his name. Yoongi has yet to find out whether this is a good or bad thing. “Right,” he says, and he’s already tired of being the one to introduce his kids over and over, so he only adds, “And my kids, but they can introduce themselves.” He raises an eyebrow at Jae’s mildly panicked expression. “Can’t they?”

“I’m Elise.” She’s still pressed against Yoongi’s arm, like a living, breathing leech. “My oppa’s name is Jae, but he’s grumpy ‘cause Appa keeps introducing him as Sungjae, which is his full name.”

“Elise,” Jae hisses alongside an uncomfortable laugh.

Yoongi laughs softly and ruffles the top of Elise’s head, just to mess with her, giving her something else to do that isn’t making fun of Jae. The name thing wasn’t intentional. He just figured that Jae wouldn’t want complete strangers calling him by a nickname, but it’s really up to the kid himself. It isn’t really his name to be picky over.

“Anyway, I came in to say that food is ready,” Jin says, rubbing the shoulder that Yeoreum was leaning against. He sounds friendly—welcoming. “I really hope you guys like burgers? It’s kind of the monthly tradition to do burgers. If I’m lazy, I just order a bunch of pizza and Jungkook eats half of it.”

“We’re not a picky family,” Yoongi says, nudging Jae with his elbow, because he’s known to enjoy burgers the most. In response, all Jae does is duck his head and act shy.

For most of the afternoon, Yoongi listens to the conversations over burgers, fries, and beer. They’re wild, unpredictable—it goes from the current charting songs, to the best dog breed, to Jungkook’s supposedly obnoxious snoring, to how the kids are doing in school, to how well Jin cooks, and he can’t even keep track with how often the topic changes. They all seem to bounce off each other better than Yoongi ever has with anyone.

He only gets roped in when someone brings up work and Jungkook calls him out about his poor habit of grading nonstop at JJ’s for hours at a time. Being a workaholic is not the best first impression to give. But Jungkook doesn’t really give him any leeway to back out, and the kids only encourage it.

“Oh you think I’m bad for staying at the shop late?” Jungkook asks, pointing to himself, disbelief written into the way he lifts his eyebrows. It’s all over his face. “That guy,” he says, pointing at Yoongi, “stays at JJ’s for the majority of my eight hour shifts. And he just works. Nonstop. He takes like, one pee break, maybe.”

Yoongi attempts to defend himself. “Hey—”

“He’s always been like that,” Jae adds, sipping on a bottle of water. His eyes are brighter now that he’s eaten not one, but two of Jin’s insane burgers. They’re about the size of Nari’s face and near impossible to take a proper bite into, yet so unfathomably delicious. Hands down, the best burgers Yoongi’s had.

“No I haven’t,” Yoongi tries again. He knows he’s lying through his teeth here, but this is his dignity on the line. What will they think if they figure out that there isn’t much more to him other than how much he dedicates himself to research and his family? “Look, it’s just—easy to get lost, you know—”

“That is exactly what a workaholic would say,” Jimin says, using the neck of his beer bottle to point in Yoongi’s direction. As if he’s made some life-changing revelation about him when they hardly even know each other. “Dude, if your kid is saying you’ve always been that way, then he’s probably right.”

Why is it that Yoongi can never know peace when it comes to his kids? “I mean, oppa is right,” Elise says, flicking her hair over her shoulder, grinning in Yoongi’s direction. Whatever comes out of her mouth next is most likely not something he’s going to want to hear from her. “He’s the biggest nerd too. On weekends, he reads books and watches documentaries and tells us all these random facts he learns.”

Yoongi gapes; this is the exact thing that Elise told him not to do this morning. The chorus of ooooh’s in reaction isn’t helping.

“You’re like Namjoon,” Jin grumbles, casting a knowing glance at a very guilty-looking Namjoon. “I swear. He spouts knowledge in his sleep and I really, really wish I was joking. He’s also one of the worst workaholics I’ve seen.”

“I’m in corporate, sue me,” Namjoon says and turns to Yoongi of all people for help. “Yoongi, what’s your job? Help me out here.”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck. “I’m a professor,” he says, and he notices how Hoseok’s face changes with interest. Suddenly everyone’s staring at him which is precisely not what he wants. Why did Jungkook drag him in the middle of the conversation? “I don’t know. I’m in research too so I’m constantly reading new journals and analyzing data. I feel like that’s a decent excuse, ‘cause I’m not really one to stop myself from learning.”

“Even if he’s old,” Elise chimes in.

“Even if I’m old,” Yoongi agrees.

“My point stands,” Jungkook says, lifting his beer bottle for a sip. “If I hadn’t invited you, would you be working right now?”

Well… Yoongi can’t exactly deny that. No matter what he tries to avoid it, somehow he ends up reaching for his work laptop in his free time.

This time, it’s Taehyung who snaps his fingers and points in Yoongi’s direction. “Ha!” he shouts. “You’re absolutely thinking that you’d be working.”

“You’re ganging up on me, that’s messed up,” Yoongi whines, setting down his empty beer, running a hand over his face. The room feels small, hot; sweat drips down his spine. He really hates being the center of attention. “Namjoon, you get me, right?”

“Well, he’s in the process of getting a master’s degree,” Hoseok teases, “so he should.”

Unfortunately, Yoongi does not get to find out what exactly Namjoon is getting his master’s in. Before anyone answers, the conversation is swept away again when Nari comes barreling in from the backyard, barefoot and carrying some type of bug that makes Hoseok leap at least two feet in the air. Entertaining as it is, Yoongi is already exhausted from socializing. He’s had his fill for today.

The chance to leave is presented by none other than Jungkook himself, holding Nari’s hand as she wails over her now squashed bug, pleading with him to go home. Yoongi’s situation isn’t much different with Elise’s foot-nudges every few minutes, pouty lips and hands clasped in a begging position. And Jae seems to have checked out completely, scrolling idly through his phone one earbud in.

“Do you need a ride?” Yoongi offers, once they’ve done their goodbyes. Jungkook got Nari to settle down on the front door step, sniffling with her arms wrapped protectively around a stuffed shark. He finishes lacing up his shoes and digs his car keys out of his pocket; both Jae and Elise are waiting beside it. “Well, I wouldn’t have a car seat for Nari, so I don’t know how that’d work…”

“Oh, I keep one here in case of an emergency,” Jungkook says, still knelt in front of his daughter. One hand is rubbing her shoulder, the other wiping her tears, gentle as ever. He seems like the soft, caring type of dad. A total girl dad. “Usually I have one of the others drive me, but since you live in my area, that probably makes the most sense. Right?”

“Right.” Yoongi nods once. “You can just come to the car once you get the car seat?”

Jungkook nods his head, enthusiastic smile, pieces of his hair bobbing along with the rapid movement. “Of course. Thanks,” he says, and Yoongi leaves him to get his stuff together and come to his car.

“We’re giving Jungkook and his kid a ride,” he tells Jae and Elise as he unlocks the car for them. Their reactions are near-identical—one rolls his eyes and the other raises her eyebrows, quizzical. “They live near us and Nari really wants to go home, so be nice. Jae, you have to sit in the back.”

“Oh,” Jae mumbles, pushing the passenger door shut. “Okay.”

The energy is low on the drive back home—traffic is backed up, all three kids end up dozing off. Jungkook is left awake, tapping through his phone, letting out soft huffs and grumbles every few minutes. The fatigue from the long week has settled bone-deep into Yoongi, limbs aching, movement lethargic. His glasses keep catching the glare of the setting sun. His eyes are stinging.

By the time they get around to dropping Jungkook and Nari off, the sun has gone down entirely and the first thing Yoongi does when he gets home is knock out on the couch for a long, much-needed nap.

++

“Back again?”

Yoongi probably shouldn’t come to JJ’s as often as he does. The espresso machine they have at home is perfectly functional—yet it’s collecting dust from how seldom he actually turns it on. There is just something so much more satisfying about someone else making it for him. Somehow, it’s even better when Jungkook is the one who’s making it.

“Yeah,” Yoongi answers with a low, embarrassed laugh. Jungkook answers with a knowing smile. “Uh, I guess I’ll take my usual. I have more stuff to grade, unfortunately…”

“Do you ever not work?” Jungkook asks, taking a small sized cup, using a sharpie to write Yoongi’s name on it. He even adds a small smiley face at the end. “Like… I only ever see you work. With the exception of lunch at Jin’s.”

That’s true, but not entirely true. “Sometimes I end up watching videos on YouTube instead of working,” Yoongi admits. It was Elise sending him too many cat videos that hooked him onto the concept, and now he can’t get enough. “Also we try to do movie nights every other week, usually on Friday. Order take-out, get ice cream, the whole thing. So I definitely do not work then.”

“What about taking time for yourself?” Jungkook has moved over, and Yoongi follows the motion, leaning his hip on the pick-up counter. “Self-care, if you will.”

“I’m sorry, but do you do that?”

Jungkook fumbles with the tamper, till it just slips from his grip and stumbles to the floor. “I mean,” he says, ducking his head. So Yoongi got him there, then. Practice what you preach, as they say. It’s also just cute as hell to see Jungkook get flustered about it. “I work two full-time jobs. What’s your excuse?”

“Okay, and? I probably work just as many hours as you,” Yoongi replies, cocking his head to the side, watching as Jungkook ignores him in favor of finishing the drink off. “Oh come on, you’re just in denial because you don’t take care of yourself either. And I at least carve time out of my week to take a hot bath or something.”

“Oh, so you’re a bath kind of guy, huh?”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows as he takes his coffee. “Is that supposed to be bad?” he asks, challenging him. Again, Jungkook just gets all blushy and abashed, shaking his head rapidly. “Sounds like it, Jungkook. Trying to shame me or some shit?”

“No, it’s just surprising,” Jungkook says between his teeth, the redness from his cheeks slowly spreading over his exposed neck, noticeable even considering the blooming flower tattooed on his throat, between his collarbones. “You’re, like, intimidating.”

“Me?” That’s a first. If Yoongi’s intimidating, then Jungkook must have a weak definition of what’s intimidating. “Please. My kids call me a softie. I’m far from intimidating, trust me.”

This, however, seems to not bode over well with Jungkook. All it does is make his skin flush a deeper pink and his buff, flexing arms fold over his chest. “Okay, well, you scared the shit out of me when I first met you,” he says, shooting Yoongi this fake-disgusted look. Yoongi just laughs. “Coming in with your New York walk and New York accent.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have New York written all over you.”

“Aren’t you the same guy who was surprised I was from New York?” This is getting funnier and funnier than longer Yoongi stands here. But also increasingly worrying the longer Jungkook looks genuinely upset. “I’m just teasing you, seriously. Did I actually scare the shit out of you, though?”

Jungkook shrugs, then slowly begins nodding his head. There’s no way… “I’m sorry! You were just, like, very demanding,” he exclaims, the facade broken by wide brown eyes and a frustrated brush of his apron. It’s actually… very sweet. Jungkook is the exact opposite of the impression he gives off, with all his piercings and tattoos. “I didn’t know what to do. Don’t you remember? I spilled your drink and had to remake it. So embarrassing.”

Well, Yoongi had forgotten, but now he definitely remembers. It was the fourth or fifth time at JJ’s—maybe a week or two after moving in—and he was dead tired, barraged with new work emails and texts from Eomma about them settling in and dealing with the kids’ complaints about the new environment. Maybe he’d come off a little strong when he’d ordered. Snapped a little more than socially acceptable for California.

A minute later, he heard the most deafening clatter from the opposite side of the counter, just to see Jungkook with coffee dripping off the edge of his blue apron. The hair pulled out of his face was loose, wild, oddly similar to an untamed animal. Yoongi had paid no mind to it for the two seconds he looked up and went back to texting Eomma. So, probably not as embarrassing as Jungkook is thinking it was.

“It was hardly the highlight of my day,” Yoongi says with a laugh, taking a sip of his coffee, lifting it midair for emphasis. “But hey, look at you now. You can even hold a conversation with me.”

“Haha, you think you’re a funny guy, huh?”

“Who said I can’t be a bath guy and a funny guy?”

Jungkook dismisses him towards the exit with a wave of his hand. “Just go,” he says, and the guy’s lucky that Yoongi is getting a phone call right now. Otherwise he’d stick around and bother him for a couple more minutes, before he gets to work. “I have orders to take, drinks to make. I’ll be off in an hour.”

Yoongi lets him go and claims a spot on one of the far-end couches, just near the window, the right amount of sunshine pouring in through the glass. He gets around checking his missed call, and it’s only when he figures out who exactly called that he wishes he stayed with Jungkook. A few seconds pass and the call starts back up again.

He considers ignoring it. He considers what would happen if he did, if he just let her go to voicemail over and over again. He asks himself what exactly Nina would do in the case that he didn’t answer. Would she go as far as trying to email him? Or reach him through Jae, who he knows for a fact hasn’t properly talked to her since they were in New York for Christmas. She’d probably go to no end.

But after weeks spent settling the custody dispute, Yoongi knows that it’s come to an unfortunate, painful time where he must work out some sort of opportunity for her to see the kids. He’s not sure how she knew that spring break was about to begin, but now she’s calling. And if he doesn’t answer today, or tomorrow, or beyond, then more court officials will get involved.

They don’t need that. It’s the last thing Yoongi needs. So, he answers. It’s the only option he realistically has.

“Hello?”

“I’m flying to California on Sunday,” Nina says. She sounds fucking drunk and it makes his blood boil. “I need a place to stay. You have a bed?”

Yoongi grinds his teeth together. Oh, she cannot be serious right now. “Like hell I’m letting you into my home,” he replies, and it draws in a dirty look from some auntie sitting at the table diagonal from him. He decides to take the call outside after that. “I know you’re entitled to your visitation, but could you at least have the decency to plan it properly? You can’t just show up.”

“Yeah. And I know where you live, so what can you do?” God, he really needs to talk about ensuring privacy with Jae. Even when it comes to people like his mother. She can be manipulative in the most unsuspecting, convincing ways. “What, you took that fancy job in LA and now you can’t even give room and board to your kids’ Eomma?”

“You got a big ass ego calling yourself their Eomma.”

“And? That’s what I am, so I have every right to call myself that.” Yoongi can practically see the way she rolls her eyes. Mostly because he’s standing here outside of JJ’s doing the exact same thing. “God, Yoongi, at least suggest me a nearby hotel or something. I don’t care if it’s a dump, just make it cheap.”

It hurts him, sometimes, to think of how low of a place Nina has gone without him. He lets out a shaky breath, meant to regain some sort of calm. “I’ll look around and send some options,” he says, rubbing his forehead. Fuck, now he’s getting a headache. “And Nina, seriously. Do not ask Jae for personal information like our address. He’s not entitled to giving that to you, and neither am I.”

“You even sound different.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You don’t sound the same way. Not like you used to.” Nina lets out a sigh, and it almost—almost, he really can’t be sure—sounds like someone is with her. A voice, deep and muffled. Definitely a man. The audacity she has to make this kind of call when there’s another person in the room. “Whatever. Send me something by tonight. Bye.”

Then she’s gone in a flash; like a midsummer thunderstorm dispersing on the waterfront. Yoongi is left in the aftermath, staring blankly at his dimmed phone screen. He asks himself how his life unfolded like this. Asks himself why his relationship with Nina had to take such a sour turn for the worst.

He goes back inside JJ’s and sits at his table and researches places for Nina to stay. There is no good reason for him to avoid doing what she asks; so Yoongi searches for hotels she can stay in nearby to the apartment they live in, anything cheap, but decent quality. She asked for a dump, but he just… can’t give her that. He can’t do that to her.

As hopeless as it feels, being kind to Nina, he always thinks back to the way they were in high school. When she was a goody two shoes, to the point where Eomma and Appa actually liked her. Before she fell into this trap, met people that changed her, started drinking so much he didn’t know who she was anymore. He remembers that girl from twenty years ago instead of who she’s become.

Yoongi hates himself for it. Just a little. It feels so desperate and needy, how he’d run back to her when things got so unmanageable, when the weight of his responsibilities were just too much to bear. Because she just knows him. They were friends for years before having Jae. In hindsight, he knows it never should have progressed beyond that. It would have been safer—smarter—for the both of them.

But this is the reality, Yoongi thinks as he sends off a handful of motel options within a five mile radius of the apartment. He and Nina are not friends, are not dating, are not supposed to be there for each other anymore. She has betrayed his trust too many times and damaged his faith in love, to the point that he doubts it will ever be repairable. They can never get back what they had, but he just can’t let go.

Like he said—hopeless.

Once the research is out of the way, Yoongi tucks it away into the back of his mind, forgetting about everything for now. He puts on his headphones and zeroes in on the last of the midterm papers that need to be graded before spring break. If he doesn’t do it now, then he’ll undoubtedly have tons of students emailing him about not having the grades out.

He works for what is probably hours on end. His coffee vanishes in almost five minutes, eventually replaced by Jungkook when he gets off his shift and settles in front of him. Yoongi isn’t really sure what he’s doing with a sketchbook and pencil, but he just focuses on his work. That’s all he can really do without going into a spiral about Nina.

“Fuck,” Yoongi murmurs when his wrists and fingers begin to feel sore from typing, a tingling sensation creeping into his joints and muscles.

Jungkook looks up and asks, “What is it?”

“My hands hurt, that’s all,” Yoongi says and shuts his laptop. When he checks his phone, there’s a text reminder from Jae about stopping at the grocery store before coming home. “How long have we been sitting here?”

“You’ve been here for a couple hours, I’ve been here for, like, one?” Jungkook shrugs and pulls his beanie down, covering almost all the piercings in his ears. “Give it a rest. Stretch a bit. Do you work out at all?”

Yoongi blinks at him. Where did that question come from?

“I’m asking because that’s what I do to take care of myself. I was thinking about it after we talked earlier,” Jungkook continues with a roll of his eyes, almost like he knows the exact thought that went into Yoongi’s head. “Granted, I do take Nari with me most of the time because I can’t leave her at home. But it’s fine, like, she’s actually more outgoing than me, so she usually scopes out people to spot me.”

“Remember what I said about her being a bold kid?”

“Reigns true.” Jungkook laughs. “But… Do you work out? It could be good for you.”

“Sometimes.” Yoongi gets lazy about it, but he tags along with Jae if there’s time. “Jae does, so sometimes I go with him. Maybe I’ll try to make it a regular thing again. I was better about it before we moved.”

Jungkook nods his head and shuts his sketchbook, checking the time on his phone screen. “Shit, I have to pick Nari up from school,” he mutters, shoving the book and his pouch of sketch pencils into his bag, eyes widening. Yoongi fixes his glasses and checks his watch, too. Fuck—that means he has to take Elise to her dance class. “Are you staying?”

“No,” Yoongi answers, packing up his laptop and paper gradebook, slipping them into his bag. He takes a sip of the forgotten refill, slurping up whatever’s left. It’s mostly diluted by now. “Uh, I gotta pick Elise up too. What school does Nari go to?”

“Oh…” For some reason, Jungkook’s cheeks get dark. Like, just as red as they were when Yoongi first came in today. “It’s this charter school… I don’t really understand how it works? My mom put it together just this past year, so.”

“Is it the one near the park? Across from the court building?”

Jungkook blinks, all wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Elise goes there too,” Yoongi answers, then nods his head in the direction of the parking lot. He went through hell, getting Elise into that school, but he’s glad he did it. “I’ve got time to drop you before Elise has dance. Just come with. Jae usually walks home.”

“You don’t—”

“Shut up, just go.” Yoongi shoulders his bag and pushes JJ’s door open, holding it for Jungkook to step outside too. “You’re gonna tell me some shit like I don’t have to and I’m not gonna fight you on that. It’s stupid to make you take the bus to go to the same place, so just go.”

If it’s even possible, the blush worsens. How does one man get so awkward so easily? “Okay,” he mutters, shuffling in the direction of Yoongi’s car. Yoongi trails after him without another word. Like he said, he’s not going to fight him on that. Why would he make Jungkook go alone when he can literally just drive the both of them?

For most of the drive, Jungkook has his head leaned against the window, quiet, his thumb continuously rubbing at the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. There’s a red light they stop at which lets Yoongi peer at it, see what it could be. He finds a series of numbers inked there, tiny and compact, almost unnoticeable. Yoongi wonders what they mean. He wonders just how many tattoos Jungkook might have.

Elise is already on the sidewalk outside the school when Yoongi pulls up. She skips over to the car and catapults herself into the backseat, grinning, ready to begin the daily rant. But she stops short, a surprised, “Jungkook-samchon?” coming out of her mouth instead.

“Hey kiddo,” Jungkook says with a soft smile, looking over his shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, good, good. The usual,” Elise says, slipping her bag off her shoulders, leaning between the two front seats. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Nari goes here.” Jungkook pops the door open, sliding one leg out, then turns back to clap Yoongi on the shoulder. The force literally makes him jolt, and Elise slides back into one of the seats. “Thanks for this, hyung. I’ll catch you later? We should do something now that it’s spring break. Maybe a beach day.”

Yoongi nods his head, tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear. He thought he could drop them home, but he supposes there’s the carseat issue again. “Sure, yeah. That sounds fun,” he says and waves as Jungkook finishes climbing out of his car, grabbing the bag resting against the floor. “I’ll text you?”

Jungkook does a quick thumbs up and shuts the door, and Yoongi has to drive away before he gets in trouble for idling in a red zone.

“Appa, how can we go to the beach with Jungkook-samchon? I thought Eomma is gonna be here this week,” Elise says a minute later, driving in the direction of the dance studio. Shit, Yoongi actually managed to forget about that for a little while. “Isn’t she? That’s what oppa told me this morning before he left.”

“She’s coming on Sunday,” he answers with a heavy sigh. “You feel okay about that?”

Elise sighs, too. “I guess,” she says. When Yoongi checks on her in the rearview mirror, she’s sitting against the door with her arms crossed and head down. He can’t tell if that answer is genuine or a lie. “It’s just—I don’t know—she’s so… She doesn’t get me. It really sucks.”

“I know.” A deluded part of Yoongi thinks she gets him, but the rest of him knows it’s untrue. It’s been a long time since Nina understood him. “She doesn’t get me either, sweetheart. It does suck.”

“Is that why you’re not together anymore?”

“I guess so.” Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek. This topic isn’t one he’s broached with Elise yet. With Jae, it’s easier—he was relatively old enough to understand what was going on when they broke up, but Elise was a toddler. She didn’t have a positive relationship with Nina, at least not one that she remembers. “It’s complicated Elise, you know that.”

Elise nods, head still down. Yoongi averts his eyes back to the road. “Yeah, I know,” she mumbles, barely loud enough for him to hear over the road noise. “But, like, it’s like she doesn’t even try? She always just makes a big deal out of oppa when we see her. I’m invisible.”

“Maybe it’s because she doesn’t know you that well?”

“I don’t know her either.”

Yoongi sighs. He really doesn’t know what to say or how to navigate this, even after years of managing visitation with Nina. “What do you want for dinner?” he asks instead, just to get her thinking about something else. They can worry about Nina and her bullshit when she actually arrives on Sunday. “I’m picking up groceries while you’re in practice. Craving anything?”

“Mm… Why’d you put me on the spot like that, huh, Appa?”

Yoongi laughs, resting his palm against the wheel, the other touching the back of his neck. “Is it wrong to want to give my favorite daughter a meal she wants?”

“I’m your only daughter.”

“Hey, if I said favorite kid, you’d hold that over Jae’s head.”

A moment of silence. “Am I your favorite kid?”

Picking a favorite kid is impossible, but he still lets her believe it. “No comment,” he says, then laughs along to her giggles, chest warm, heart happier.

This, at least, is something that Nina will never be able to take away. The irrevocable bond between him and his children will forever remain untouched by her and her dishonest ways.

++

Nina arrives at LAX at nine in the morning with a tiny neon green suitcase and reeking of a sweet, citrusy body mist. She has always been like this; a stickler for appearances. Make-up always done to a T, the best outfits on, not even a hair out of place. Even now, as she approaches him at the arrival terminal, Yoongi sees the girl he fell in love with seventeen years ago. He thinks he will always see that girl.

It’s damaging.

Despite the hostility they used during their last phone call, Yoongi still accepts Nina’s offered hug. He still places his arm around her waist and rests his face in her shoulder for those few, long seconds, because parts of him miss it. Once upon a time they had stability together; his judgment becomes clouded by the positives, even if they don’t necessarily outweigh the negatives. The worst thing is that this part of him is conscious of his actions.

“Long flight?” Yoongi asks, picking up the tiny neon suitcase to place in the backseat of his car. Nina keeps looking at it with her head tilted to the side, holding her sunglasses in her right hand. “Piece of shit, isn’t it?” He still hasn’t gotten that one fused headlight repaired.

“Good, you already know,” she says, with a bit of disgust wrinkling her nose.

“Com’n Nina, it’s not that shitty.” Yoongi opens the passenger side door for her to get in, leaning against it. She even goes as far as stepping away from it. “You’re a New Yorker. This can’t be grosser than the MTA, can it?”

Nina tucks a strand of iron-curled hair behind her ear and slips on her sunglasses. “Fair point,” she says, and stands on her toes to peck his cheek before she gets into the car. Yoongi blinks a couple of times and sighs; the whiskey on her breath definitely tells him that she is not seeing the kids this morning. Shakes him back to reality too.

“Where did you end up deciding to stay?” Yoongi asks once he’s back in the driver’s seat, clicking the buckle, using his phone to pull up maps.

“Ugh, I don’t know, one of the places you sent me,” Nina says, leaning over the console to look down at Yoongi’s phone. He notices the fresh set of fake nails as she taps his screen, swiping her fingers along the keyboard to spell out the address. “This one. Shit, I’m tired.” She yawns and leans back against the seat. “Why’d you guys have to move so fucking far? Six hours is too long.”

“You’ve never been on the fifteen hour flight from New York to Korea and it shows.”

“Hey, that’s not my fault and you know that.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Six hours isn’t so bad. When I was going back and forth before we moved, I just slept,” he says, checking the travel time between the airport and the hotel. The app says it’ll take almost forty minutes and he just hopes that Nina will just fall asleep on the ride over. “I was thinking that you could just get some rest and maybe we’ll have dinner with the kids around six-thirty, seven?”

“I can’t see them now?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He has two options here—sugarcoat the truth, or be brutally honest. The problem with both is that one will make him look weaker, and therefore she’ll try to manipulate him into being convinced to bring her home, and the other will make him sound like a complete asshole, painting him out to be the bad guy when he’s only protecting his kids. There is no safe, healthy in between.

So Yoongi chooses the latter. He’d rather protect his kids than take a risk.

“You had a few drinks at a time that isn’t appropriate and they don’t need to see that from you,” he starts, adjusting his palms on the wheel as he gathers his thoughts. There’s got to be a way to say this kindly. “Especially for you. There are terms to this visitation and I have every right to cut you off if you violate them.”

“Yoongi Min, always a perfectionist,” Nina scoffs. “You never used to be this picky.”

“That was before I had kids.”

Nina huffs. “You? Before you had kids?” she asks, appalled. But Yoongi phrased it that way with intention. He knows that for the past ten years, it’s always been him who puts down everything he has for his kids. Nina’s contribution amounted to a few thousand dollars a year. “They are our kids, Yoongi. I carried them for nine months each.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t birth them. But you sure as hell didn’t raise them, Nina.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“You’re the one who gave up custody in the end. That was a choice.”

“You know damn well that it was the judge’s decision.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and averts his gaze to the side view mirror for a moment, readjusting the way his palms rest on the wheel. The more he argues, the worse it’ll become for him—if Nina feels provoked, then the kids won’t get much or any enjoyment spending time with her. Jae is genuinely looking forward to this, and even if Elise isn’t as optimistic, he would still hate to make things worse.

Plus, Nina is just spewing pure bullshit. It was her that suddenly backed out, didn’t show up to court one afternoon, and had her lawyer relay that she settled on her behalf. None of that was the judge’s decision—it ultimately was Nina’s choice. Even if she fought him on it, she clearly had no real interest in raising these kids. Not when she acted the way she did.

They don’t talk on the rest of the drive. Yoongi takes the courtesy of, at the very least, unloading her obnoxious suitcase from the backseat of his car, before he heads back home. He’s grumpier than usual, being up so early without his regular dose of caffeine, so the logical thing to do is pit stop at JJ’s before he goes home. Apparently whatever higher power exists is in his favor, because Jungkook is there with Jin, Namjoon, and the sweet kids Nari and Yeoreum.

Namjoon greets him with an unflattering grimace. “What’s got you in a bad mood?” he asks—mumbles more like—as he plucks a to-go cup and writes Yoongi’s name on it. Yoongi can’t even begin to explain. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah—yeah, I guess,” Yoongi says, although the real answer is a solid no. He’s pretty sure everything is not okay. “My ex is here for the week from New York, so. She kind of put me in a shitty mood.” He glances warily at the kids sitting with Jungkook off to the side. “Sorry.”

“You’re good, they’re not very attentive when Jungkook is in front of them,” Namjoon says, passing the cup over his shoulder to Jin. He leans forward against the counter to look at the kids, and Yoongi does the same. “What’s up with her though? Does she have a problem with you or something?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Yeah, a bit,” he says. Again, obviously not true. If he downplays reality, maybe it’ll start being true. “I fought with her like hell for custody of our kids. She blames me for giving up, and it doesn’t really make sense, but whatever. I’m going to ignore it until she calls me again.”

“I’ve always heard that custody battles are shit. I remember Jungkook’s…” Namjoon shudders and looks back at Yoongi with a smile. “I was in court with him everyday until she admitted that she did not give two fucks about Nari’s wellbeing.”

“Really? I thought she just got up and left…”

“Mel’s a piece of work, I’ll tell you that much. Maybe the rest can come from Jungkook.” Namjoon pushes himself off the counter with a sigh and taps the register a couple of times. From behind him, Jin is singing along to the song playing. His apron is baby pink—Yoongi approves. “Getting anything else?”

Yoongi takes a glance at the menu and hums, thinking, then adds on a hot chocolate and hot tea for Elise and Jae. “How’s it going with Yeoreum?” he asks, paying with his credit card once everything is added to his order. “Ah, I mean, because Jin had told me that it was a bit of a struggle with her sometimes. Maybe I can help?”

“You’d do that for us?” Namjoon asks with widened eyes, curious gaze on Yoongi. He looks like the kind of guy Yoongi would try befriending in school—a crossover of nerdy, but also not. “It’s been rough as fuck recently. Her new favorite things to do are refuse to sleep or practice speaking English. Which, okay, the second one is fine, but she hates sleeping now.”

“That is rough… Jae had a phase like that,” Yoongi replies, adjusting his glasses as the memories come back to him. It was so long ago now. “I don’t know, I kind of… liked it?” He laughs. “I mainly stayed up with him until he fell asleep by my side since I was studying through my twenties. If I gave him dinner and started studying earlier into the night, then he’d fall asleep quicker. We kind of bonded.”

Namjoon smiles, two dimples popping out immediately. “You seem close with your kids,” he says, and he couldn’t be more right. Yoongi feels like they’re probably the people who know him better than anyone else in his life. “That’s good, I feel. It breaks down the whole hierarchy of respecting your elders, doesn’t it? They don’t feel afraid to be close to you, right?”

“No, not at all… Even as a family, we’re close. It also means they’re not afraid to tell it like it is and call me out on any of my bullshit.”

“That’s good too! Accountability between older kids and parents is needed.”

Yoongi nods. “It’s needed between younger kids and parents too,” he says and gestures over his shoulder, to where he knows Yeoreum is giggling with Nari and Jungkook. “I know she’s little, but once you establish and build that trust with her, it’s a good foundation for when she becomes older. Both my kids were a little less resistant to my… stricter, I guess, decisions, because of that.”

“That’s some good advice,” Namjoon says with a softer smile. “Thanks. I’ll definitely apply that somehow for the long run.”

“Oh, I wasn’t particularly giving advice? Just rambling.” Yoongi rubs the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. Did it really come across that way? “Not everything works for every kid. Shit worked for Jae, that didn’t work for Elise, and vice-versa. Plus I’m still learning when it comes to parenting and stuff. I may seem like an expert, but really, I’m not.”

Namjoon snorts. Like, he actually lets out this strangled noise with his whole chest, face wrinkled up with a dimpled smile. “You’re definitely the expert among us,” he says through his laughter. Yoongi grins a little; it’s hard to believe that when half the time he feels fucking clueless. But at this age, they learn together. As a family. “Hey, what is it that you teach again?”

“Sociology,” Yoongi answers. “I got my PhD not too long ago so I could start teaching full time. I do research too, of course, especially at an institution like USC.” He shrugs. No one really ever asks about his job, and whenever they do it’s usually to question the type of work he does in the first place. Even with his parents, it’s not the most respected profession. “It’s not everyone’s thing, but I like it.”

“Oh shit, that’s awesome,” Namjoon says, and—sounds like he genuinely means that. It’s not condescending or sarcastic or anything. Not something Yoongi is used to when he tells others about what he does. “I feel like I’ve been in school for, like, so long. I have a full-time job, but then I’m also a full-time student, and… It’s just.” He grimaces again. “Stressful. On top of full-time parenting.”

Sounds exactly like Yoongi back in his mid-twenties; Jae in his toddler years, working full-time and juggling the first year in his graduate program. Everything felt like a pressure cooker, a ticking bomb, an explosion on the brink. The only difference is that Namjoon has Jin at his side, someone ready and there to support him. Yoongi didn’t really have that with Nina, no matter how much he wanted it.

“You’ll get there,” Yoongi says. “It’s—just—it’s hard. It’ll be hard, but you can do it. If I did, I think pretty much anyone can.” He pauses, finds it in himself to smile despite the lingering annoyance for his conversation with Nina. “You got this, yeah? You’re not alone in this shit. Lean on the people you have. From what I can tell, you’ve got a lot of them.”

“I’ve got you, right?”

Yoongi blinks. “I mean,” he mumbles, shy, rubbing his neck. That—he didn’t expect that. He’s only met Namjoon one other time. “Sure. Grab my number from Jungkook if you ever need it.” He takes the two hot drinks once they’re finished, passed over with a dramatic bow from Jin. “Okay, uh, I need to get going but it was great to talk to you.”

“You too.” Namjoon waves, then so does Jin as he passes, then slips into the back kitchen. “I’ll see you around, uh, hyung—that cool?”

It’s cool.

Before Yoongi makes it back into the driver’s seat of his car, he hears someone shout, “Yoongi-hyung!” from behind him. Endearingly enough, when he turns around, it’s Jungkook—and Nari, close behind—jogging across the parking lot to stop him. Yoongi pauses to take a sip of his coffee and smiles; he’s beginning to get this tingly feeling when he sees Jungkook. He doesn’t get it.

“Sorry, um, before you go, we were wondering something real quick before you head out,” Jungkook says, lifting Nari up from underneath her arms, so she’s eye-to-eye with Yoongi. A silly little grin is plastered across Jungkook’s face, sneaky and sweet and—god, what is he thinking?

Nari giggles and squirms a little, then settles against Jungkook’s hip, his arm secured around her back. “I was wondering,” she starts, then proceeds to hide in Jungkook’s neck. He soothes her with his free hand touching her head, murmuring words of encouragement loud enough for both of them to hear. It’s refreshing to see how gentle Jungkook is. He’s so calm. Never shows his anger or exhaustion. Yoongi has only ever seen him smiling with Nari. “Can we go to the beach?”

“Hm?” Yoongi asks, choosing to act clueless. “You want to go to the beach with me?”

“Not just you, silly!” Nari laughs into Jungkook’s chin, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. How silly of Yoongi, then. “With Jae-oppa, of course. And—and Elise-unnie!” The most adorable pair of puppy dog eyes appear, bottom lip jutting out completely. “Can we samchon, please, can we?”

Yoongi pretends to think, leaning against the car, contemplating whether or not they’ll have time between Nina and work. But he would rather get Jae and Elise out of the house with something other than Nina and her activities, judging by the fact that it usually isn’t anything they like. Always something she likes.

“We can,” Yoongi decides, just to get a scream of pleasure, dangling legs swinging with excitement. “Let’s do it on Friday, okay? We’ll have a Fun Day Friday at the beach, how’s that?”

“I love Fun Day Friday—Appa, did you hear samchon?!” Nari is screaming, wiggling, shaking Jungkook’s shirt with her fists clenched around it. “We’re gonna go to the beach!”

Jungkook hugs Nari close to his chest and mouths, thank you, hyung.

God, the pure unadulterated joy is something Yoongi misses. Both to experience and to witness in his kids. The older the kids get, the more worried he becomes for the discovery of complex emotions. Knowing the type of addictions and mental illness that runs through their genes, between Yoongi and Nina, they’re prone to it. The fear eats at him to the point where he’s afraid that he isn’t prepared enough to protect them.

So when he gets home to find both kids still snoozing in bed, sleeping in on their first official day of spring break, Yoongi leaves their drinks at their bedside and stops to watch. Elise is the kind of girl to push herself to the brink, trying to live up to her own high expectations. She’s like her mother in the way she’ll get competitive, and it’s fierce in the sense that she doesn’t give up easy, but it scares him too. He wants her to enjoy her childhood, not throw it away trying to achieve perfection.

Then there’s Jae, whom Yoongi will never stop seeing as his little boy, someone who witnessed the wreckage of his parents’ relationship fall apart. Yoongi regrets how careless he was in those days. They would scream and argue till Jae cried for them to stop, and he was so selfish, thinking only of himself and losing his love, not the son he should have prioritized raising. It wasn’t that simple, it never is, but what if he scarred Jae in a way he can’t overcome?

And finally, there is Yoongi, with all his burdens and helplessness and fear. He doesn’t know what to do with this mountain forming on his shoulders, the sharp ridges between his pointy shoulder blades, the peak higher than what his eyes can see. The endless fight. Sometimes he wishes he knew when it would end. Would it be all right if one day, he just gave up?

++

Despite his efforts, Nina is still somewhat tipsy when the four of them end up at a sushi restaurant for dinner a couple days after she arrives.

It didn’t matter what Yoongi did to prevent her from being under the influence around them, it always failed miserably. Eventually he couldn’t stop her from seeing them—Jae actually wanted to meet her and Elise was just looking to get it over with. Yoongi had to agree for tonight. If he didn’t, then it would land them in a legal situation that he doesn’t have the energy or funds for. He hopes one evening with her won’t be bad.

But she’s tipsy. The kids might not know that, but Yoongi does. It isn’t like she’s in a state where it’s obvious to them; in fact, Jae is pretty enthusiastic the entire time, talking with Nina about the past few months of living here in California. Elise looks like she would rather be anywhere else but here, and Yoongi gets it. He’s in the same boat. If Nina were more responsible, he would consider letting her see Jae without him there, but he knows better.

For the majority of the evening, Yoongi listens. Regulates the amount of food being ordered because he knows he’ll be the one paying for it. It reaches a point when he forcefully turns down dessert under the excuse that he has a ton of assignments to grade before this weekend. Nina relents, but not without muttering something under her breath and stalking out of the restaurant with her heels clicking in her wake.

The tension is the car is wound tight, with the kids sitting in the back and Nina riding in the passenger seat. Her phone screen is a distraction in the corner of Yoongi’s eye, but he ignores it as he drives back to her hotel. By the time they arrive, it’s half-past eight, and the sky is dim with only city lights left to illuminate it. Yoongi parks near the entrance and tells Jae to lock the doors while he walks Nina inside.

The hotel she ended up picking really isn’t all that nice, but it’s in a relatively safe neighborhood, which is all he could care about when it comes to this. He follows the sound of Nina’s heels echoing the lobby, towards the elevators halfway down the hallway to the right. Then, they’re alone, well out of the earshot of anyone who works here. Yoongi doesn’t know what to think.

Nina stares up at him. “You’re mad at me,” she says with a sigh, folding her arms over her chest, pulling down the edge of her short dress.

“Yeah, Nina,” Yoongi says, crossing his arms. How can he not be? “I’m mad at you. You forget that I’ve known you since middle school. I’ve seen you drunk a hundred times.” His eyebrows twitch, taking a deep breath to settle himself. He lifts his chin to look her in the eyes, only met with regret. He feels regret, too. “What happened, anyway? You were sober in August. You were doing well.”

“You left, Yoongi. And you took the kids with you.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Doing this is not easy.” Nina doesn’t even give him a chance to talk, which is only one of the reasons they never worked out. For most of their relationship, even when they were friends, what Yoongi felt and thought never mattered. “Do you know how much it broke me seeing Elise tonight? She barely even looked at me. She fucking hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Nina,” Yoongi says softly, letting his arms fall back to his sides. That’s the truth, but judging by how Nina’s chest puffs out, she doesn’t believe him. “She doesn’t. She just wishes you paid more attention to her over Jae.”

“This is all your fault,” Nina mutters back, tears in her eyes. The words sting, though they shouldn’t. He knows it isn’t his fault. He was doing what was best for them, and there isn’t anything wrong with that. Yet, he’s here, feeling sorry for her. “You did this. I can’t even speak to my own daughter without her pushing me away.”

“Nina—”

“Why?” she cries, pushing him away with both hands pressed firmly on his chest. Yoongi holds his ground and lets her try to shove him, mourning what’s lost. “Why did you do this? We could’ve been a family. A real, happy family and you destroyed any chance of that by coming here. By fucking leaving me.”

Yoongi does the stupid thing and hugs her close to his chest, letting her cry harder into his shoulder. His arms settle on her waist, one hand rubbing up and down her back to get her to breathe and calm down. He doesn’t know how to not give in to her. Even when he knows what she says isn’t true, she makes it sound like it is. He can’t help it.

Nina pulls away, glancing up at him with tears still welled up in her eyes, mascara stains around her eyes and streaked on her cheeks. She puts one hand at the back of his neck and pulls him down, till their lips are pressed together. Yoongi kisses her back on autopilot with his arms still around her and his eyes squeezed shut, no matter how wrong he knows this is. She’s just trying to manipulate him into getting what she wants and it’s working.

Then Yoongi’s senses kick in and he pushes Nina away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You can’t do this, Nina,” he says, tears clinging to his eyelashes, but he doesn’t dare allow himself to cry. Not now, not here—not when he still has to go back to Jae and Elise in the car, face them without looking as hurt as he is. “You can’t do this to me. It’s not fair. To me or to them, more importantly. They deserve better.”

“I know.”

“Then act like it,” Yoongi says, wiping his tears away before they even have a chance to fall. He jams his finger into the elevator button. They can’t continue standing here to no end. “If you can’t show me that you actually care, then you don’t have a right to see them. I know it’s harsh, but it’s the truth. I won’t let you hurt me or them anymore.”

“Yoongi,” Nina says. He hates the way she says his name like he actually means something to her. “Why did you kiss me back?”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows at the question and chooses to answer honestly, because there’s no way around it anymore. “There is a part of me that still loves you,” he says. “And I… I know that I always will. But you pushed me away ten years ago, Nina. You cheated. You started drinking too much. I needed you to help me raise them, and you turned your back on me. How is that my fault?”

“Yoongi…”

“No. I’m done. I can’t keep doing this.”

As soon as the elevator doors open, Yoongi takes that as his chance to get away, leaving Nina behind even while she cries for him and calls his name. But maybe something in her knows that he’s right about this, because she doesn’t chase him like when he first took Jae and Elise to his parents’ apartment. Yoongi won’t allow himself to fall back into her hands just because it’s been ten years since they’ve been together. Just because he’ll always love her, even just a little bit.

When he gets in the car, the AC blasts on his warm face, hands tensed around the steering wheel. His head is still cloudy, and he wants to fucking cry, but Jae and Elise are here, waiting for him to say or do something. He knows that they know something is wrong. But this is where he draws a line as their father. There’s only so much he can share.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, shaky exhale, and asks, “Do you guys want ice cream?”

“Always,” Elise answers, leaning between the front seat and passenger seat. She pokes Yoongi’s cheek and says, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yoongi promises her, pulling on his seatbelt, ignoring Jae’s unwavering, knowing stare. “Sit down, sweetheart.” He turns the engine back on, comforted by the steady feeling of the machine beneath him. Just a little longer. He can push through this. “Jae, you can put on some music if you want.”

Jae silently plugs his phone in and hits play on a playlist with a bunch of older Korean songs that Yoongi listened to with his parents. He thinks Jae is only playing it to comfort him.

They pick up ice cream from the grocery store around the corner from home and the kids eat it while sitting on the couch, all comfortable in their pajamas. Jae and Elise are talking about Nina in hushed tones, discussing how they feel about her, and Yoongi tries not to listen. He doesn’t want his fucked up relationship with her to have such a huge affect on how they think of her. It wouldn’t be fair.

The pressure in Yoongi’s chest builds over the next couple of minutes, and eventually he gets up from his spot at the kitchen table and grabs his coat. “I’m going to go for a walk,” he says, pocketing his keys, readjusting his glasses. He swears that Jae has something to say about all of this with Nina, but he doesn’t have the energy to hash it out with him. “Uh, just call me if you need anything?”

He only makes it as far as JJ’s before he realizes just how alone he is in this. He flops onto the bus stop bench that’s right in front of the lot, staring at the cars whizzing past him. There’s something about this that confuses the hell out of him. The conflicting feelings between wanting the best for his family, but not wanting to hurt Nina even more in the process. They’ve been through so much together and these past ten years without her have been hell, but Yoongi can’t do that to himself. It wouldn’t benefit anyone.

There is only one person he can think of that might understand how he feels, and that’s Jungkook. It’s late and he doesn’t want to be a bother, but—he can’t keep this in either. Maybe Jungkook stays up late. Highly unlikely knowing how he was when he had kids that young, but it’s worth a shot. Maybe he’ll be able to help Yoongi sort out all the nonsensical thoughts in his brain.

He finds his phone and scrolls through his contacts, finally finding Jungkook’s, saved with an obnoxious photo of him sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes. He must have sneakily taken it when Yoongi wasn’t looking. After a moment of reconsideration, he hits the call button. No harm done if he doesn’t even answer.

The line rings a handful of times, and Yoongi watches the cars as he waits. It connects at the very last ring.

“Hello?”

The kids always say his age shows when he calls on instinct instead of texts. “Hey,” Yoongi says, glancing up at the road again. He swings his feet and ignores the clattering of noise in the parking lot behind him. “Sorry, um, I don’t know if this is weird. Are you busy right now? I kinda just… need someone to talk to.”

“Oh. Uh…” A pause, the sound of TV and music leaking in for a brief moment. “Oh! Hyung, yeah, of course. Sorry, I had no idea who it was. You sound different on the phone.” He pauses again, Yoongi hears some rustling. He really hopes he wasn’t disturbing Jungkook in any way. “I mean, I could bring Nari and come over?”

“No, no.” Yoongi can’t ask him to do that much for him. It wouldn’t be easy to wrangle a single-digit kid out of the house after ten p.m. “Not at all. Jae and Elise do fine at home alone, so I thought I could just… I could come by for a little bit?” He bites his bottom lip. It definitely isn’t normal to invite yourself over to someone’s house. “Is that okay?”

“I mean, yeah, as long as you don’t mind the mess.” Jungkook sounds a little out of breath, his laugh coming out awkward. Yoongi glances around the street; it’s strange to him that this place has become so familiar to him when it’s so far from what he’s known all his life. “It kinda looks like a unicorn threw up all over the place. I step on pink legos daily, hyung.”

Yoongi cracks a smile. “Been there, done that,” he says. “Send me your address and I’ll be over soon. You’re near JJ’s, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, like a five minute walk literally. I’ll see you.”

Yoongi ends the call, and after a minute of waiting, Jungkook’s text comes through with his address. He maps it out and finds it truly is just around the corner, so he stuffs his hands into his pockets and heads over. It’s so different from New York, he thinks again. If this were Manhattan, there’d be people on every street corner even during the week, but the night here is oddly quiet in comparison. He finds it unsettling.

The apartment complex is on the corner of the block, a low gate separating the sidewalk from the lawn and path leading to the back entrance. A handful of lights are on, and he hears music bleeding out from somewhere as he follows the path up the street, pushing the door open with his shoulder. The stairwell is dim, a couple of flickering lights. It’s no better than where Yoongi lives.

He climbs up two flights and finds Jungkook’s unit in no time. It’s easy enough to spot when there’s a sparkly sticker of a strawberry stuck under the B303. He knocks a couple of times and steps back, waiting with his head down.

Before his mind has a chance to be consumed by Nina again, the door swings open and Jungkook stands on the other side in a t-shirt and shorts, half-smiling. “Hi,” he says, and doesn’t really move for a couple of seconds, his breathing heavy. Yoongi isn’t making him nervous about this, is he? “Um, sorry.” He opens the door wider. “Come inside. Obviously I wasn’t expecting company so late, so it’s a little chaotic.”

“You’re fine, Jungkook. It’s chill,” Yoongi says, pushing his shoes off lazily, kicking them over to the pile of Jungkook and Nari’s shoes by the entrance.

The place isn’t nearly as messy as Jungkook was making it sound. His couch is pushed against a wall with the TV on the opposite side, playing Anastasia, little Nari watching with all her attention on the film. The carpeted floor has toys and legos scattered over it, that’s true, but it’s not like it’s over every square inch. All it seems is that Nari probably has a habit of not cleaning up after herself, which is normal.

“I’m really sorry about the mess,” Jungkook says, leading Yoongi into the kitchen, a tiny section with a table for two in the center and a gap in the wall over the stove. There’s a few dishes piled in the sink, and pots on the stove, but it all just makes it feel lived-in. The only part that’s sticking out is the fact that Jungkook won’t sit still, flying around the kitchen, putting things away. “I just—yeah, I’m usually better than this, but I had a lot more bookings than usual this week, so—”

“Relax. Please.” Yoongi gestures to the table, pulling his coat off when he registers the stuffiness in the room. “You don’t need to be formal with me. You know I get this stuff. Besides, I’ve seen much worse in my own home. There was a point where I couldn’t even see the floor of our room.”

Jungkook lets out a heavy breath. “I know you get it,” he says, and glances over the stove at Nari in the living room, still engulfed in the film. “I’m just—you’re a new person in my life. I don’t want you to think I’m some lazy parent, or something. Because I’ve gotten that before and it doesn’t feel good when I’m really trying.”

Yoongi figures they could both use a break, in that case. “I seriously don’t think you’re a lazy parent,” he says, running a hand through his hair, sighing in relief when he finally takes a seat. Jungkook still hovers by the stove, fingers idly tapping the counter. Yoongi wonders what he’s thinking. “Being a single dad is hard. You’re not perfect.”

“Yeah, I like, know that—but still. I worry,” Jungkook says, paired with a far-off, apologetic smile. He turns away to the fridge and pulls out a couple of beers, holding them up for Yoongi to see. With eyes as big as those, Yoongi thinks he’d have trouble saying no to most of what Jungkook says. “Will this help you unwind at all?”

“Yeah, uh, that’d be nice.” Yoongi knows he isn’t like Nina. He knows he can handle himself. But as soon as Jungkook sets down the open bottle, he’s almost afraid to touch it. Like somehow, her bad habits will transfer onto him. “I’m really sorry about this, Jungkook. I don’t know—I just… had a weird night.”

Jungkook tips back his bottle, and keeps an eye on Nari at the same time. “How so?” he asks, then looks back at Yoongi with his head tilted to the side. The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t even know where to begin. There is just so much wrong with his relationship with Nina, so many layers, so much to unpack. “Hyung? What’s this about?”

“My ex,” Yoongi breathes, and Jungkook gets this grim look on his face like he knows exactly what that means. He wouldn’t wish this kind of life upon anyone. It’s unfortunate that Jungkook understands. “She… She gets the right to visitation supervised by me at least once a year, at most twice, so she’s here.” He shakes his head. He still can’t believe he was stupid enough to kiss her back. “Nina’s a really bad alcoholic. So.”

“Oh.” Jungkook lowers his beer bottle, giving it a sideways look. “I’m sorry. If I knew, I wouldn’t have…”

Yoongi shakes his head. “It’s fine. I still drink, but I try to do it in moderation, and I avoided it for a while after we broke up. Now that my kids are older, I’m a little more okay with it,” he explains, and has a sip to prove his point. Besides, he knows that he isn’t like her when he gets that drunk. If anything, he just becomes the world’s biggest crybaby. “I don’t even know how to explain what happened.”

“Something happened?”

“She kissed me.” Yoongi presses his lips together; he can still feel that phantom press of her mouth on his. “God, everytime I see her, it’s like I forget what she’s done to me. I know it’s bad, I know it’s wrong. And then I just…”

“You miss her.”

It’s a terrifying fact to admit that, yeah, Yoongi misses her. “Yeah,” he says, but he knows it probably isn’t in the way that Jungkook thinks. He isn’t in love with her, not how he used to. He loves her in the sense that she’ll always have a piece of his heart, she’ll always be his first love. “I think I just miss the idea of her. She isn’t who I loved back then. It’s just harder now. I think I’m clinging onto it because I’ve been away from home for so long.”

Jungkook hums, nodding along. “That makes sense,” he says quietly, pausing with his eyebrows held in a thoughtful frown. “I don’t know much about your situation, hyung, but it’s just… It sounds to me that you’re having trouble letting go. Moving on.”

That isn’t it, is it? Yoongi has moved on. He went on dates back in New York with other girls he found pretty, ones who were open to the fact that he’s a single dad, but no one clicked, no one really understood him quite like Nina did. He had to move on when she cheated on him, when she got drunk enough to throw something at him, he had to, so he did.

Yoongi flicks his eyes over to Nari giggling at the film, and bites one of his nails, eyes tired and burning, considering it once more. Moving on doesn’t particularly have to mean dating someone new. He’s studied about this; how his type of family fits into society, plays its role. Things like this are bound to happen, people aren’t perfect, but he still asks himself why. Why did it have to happen to him, of all people? Why couldn’t he keep his family together?

“Do you… need a hug?”

“What?”

Jungkook slides a napkin across the table, his face relaxed, licking his pink lips. “You’re crying,” he says quietly. Yoongi presses his knuckles against his wet cheeks and wipes the tears away; he didn’t even notice. He picks up the napkin and turns away from Jungkook, wiping his face, sniffling. This isn’t what he came here for. “How long have you kept this feeling to yourself?”

“I guess…” Yoongi has never told anyone about this. There was no one to tell. “Forever.”

“Hyung…”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, breathing out shakily, wiping his chin. He tries to remember if there was ever a time he didn’t feel so broken. He comes out empty. “I’m such a mess.” All he wanted was someone to vent to. He didn’t want to cry in front of someone he still doesn’t know very well. “This probably isn’t what you expected when you picked up my call.”

Jungkook tilts his head with a slight raise of his eyebrow. “Definitely not,” he says with another sip to his beer. There’s a slight shriek from Nari, and both their heads turn to see that she’s just fine, eyes still glued to the screen. “But, hey, if… If this is something that’s been on your chest for that long, then you can trust me. I get it. My ex wasn’t an alcoholic or anything, but I still get it.”

“I thought you might be the one to,” Yoongi says, resting his elbows on the table as he takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Each breath makes his chest burn. “Sometimes I still wonder if it was me, you know? Was it my fault that it felt like she couldn’t turn to me anymore? That she turned to other things and people to make her feel better?” He rests his forehead in his palm as confusion takes over, again. “I was going to marry her.”

“I don’t know everything about you yet, but from what I’ve seen… It couldn’t have been you,” Jungkook says, so earnest, so forceful. But he said it himself—he doesn’t know Yoongi like that. He doesn’t know how Yoongi was ten years ago. “Maybe there was something small, something about you that you couldn’t control. Or maybe she just didn’t know any better.”

Yoongi lets out a sigh. “I feel like an idiot,” he mutters, letting his head hang low. “It’s been ten years and I still feel like this. Like, what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Yoongi,” Jungkook says softly, and he pats Yoongi’s head for a couple of seconds. “I think you just need to let it out in order to let it go, that’s all.”

Even if Yoongi knows that Jungkook is speaking to him like he’s a child, with his gentle touch in the mix, the consolation surprisingly helps. He sniffs and looks at Jungkook with a weak laugh, eyes shifting up to his hand hovering midair. With a final pat, Jungkook pulls his hand away and smiles, too, and something about him in that moment reminds Yoongi of home.

++

Fun Day Friday comes around, and Yoongi is actively not prepared for it. He was never a fan of the beach—he grew up in a big city, hardly went on vacation anywhere that wasn’t to visit his family in Korea, and he is pale as fuck. He and the sunshine don’t mix very well. Doesn’t help that the beach they picked is packed since it’s spring break.

But, he considers that it’s worth it because not only is Elise excited, so is Jae. If there’s anything Yoongi knows about his son, it’s that it’s hard to get him out of the house. The move wasn’t great for him socially, so spring break has primarily been spent gaming on his PC with his friends in New York. Yoongi thought Jae would be a little averse to the beach, but he looks happy to be here with Jungkook and Nari.

The five of them find an empty spot to lay out a couple of smaller towels and one large mat. Jungkook unfolds this massive beach umbrella that casts a shadow over Yoongi, has so many beach toys, and even brought a cooler with kid-friendly drinks and boxes of homemade sandwiches sent over by his parents. It’s all very dad-who-worries-too-much. Especially when he forces Nari to sit still while he puts sunblock on her for the second time.

Yoongi plants himself under the umbrella and watches Jae and Elise from afar as they play in the ocean, using small plastic buckets to throw water at each other. Jungkook is close by with Nari, helping her bring wet sand up to build a sand castle. He settles back after picking out a juice box from Jungkook’s cooler and reads a book he’s considering adding to his curriculum for summer classes.

Fifteen minutes later, he gets a nudge to his foot. It’s Jungkook.

“You’re seriously just going to sit there and read?” Jungkook asks, wearing a black t-shirt that sits way too tight around his body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Like, Yoongi shouldn’t know that Jungkook has his nipples pierced. That’s, like, not really something he wants to have the opportunity to stare at. It makes him feel weird. “Boring.”

“Let him,” Jae calls out, coming up from the ocean with his bucket full of water. He secures it in the sand and picks up a seran-wrapped sandwich, squinting at Yoongi. “He’s an old man, samchon. He’s also allergic to sunlight like a vampire.”

Yoongi slips his bookmark inside his book and shuts it, putting it back into his bag. He won’t mention that he absolutely brought his laptop in case he got bored enough to work. He’s hoping that won’t happen—he’s pretty sure Jungkook would consider him to be even more of a boring loser. That isn’t exactly the impression he wants to give off.

“I’m not a vampire,” Yoongi says, and realizes that he probably isn’t selling his point as he secures a baseball cap over his head. Jungkook raises his eyebrows, obviously not believing that. “I’ve just never really gone to the beach, that’s all.” He adjusts his sunglasses, squinting as he looks for Elise. “Besides, what else is there for me to do?”

“Go to the water,” Jungkook says, and leaves Yoongi no choice when he grabs him by the arm and yanks him to his feet. As soon as he’s up, Jae is flopping into Yoongi’s spot with his legs stretched out, smugly munching on his sandwich. Little brat of a teenager he has. “Come on. Live a little.”

Yoongi trudges along to Jungkook’s push, reluctant, shivering when a harsh wind blows once they reach the deeper end of the shore. “I’ve lived so much,” he says, turning to look at Jungkook’s smirk over his shoulder. “Like, way too much, Jungkook. I’m an old man now, just like Jae said.”

Jungkook laughs, bright and happy. Yoongi’s bare toes sink into the wet sand, jumping back against Jungkook’s chest when he realizes just that the water is fucking freezing. “Forgot to warn you how cold the California beach can be,” he says, with another laugh that sounds a little more mischievous than Yoongi expected. Yoongi moves away with a glare. “Come on, hyung. Go a little further.”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Yoongi says. He may as well build on the joke. “I’m a vampire. I’ll die.”

Elise skips up to him and holds out her hand. “Can I have your phone?” she asks, and Yoongi pats his pockets, pulling it out without second thought. He scrunches up his nose when she stands on her toes, then jumps to pluck his sunglasses and hat off, too. “Thank you. I’m just taking pictures of the portrait of you I drew in the sand.” She grabs the device out of his hand, skipping away with her face way too close to the screen.

“You have really smart kids,” Jungkook says.

Yoongi looks back at him again, raising his eyebrows, blocking out the sun with his hand. “Why would you say that?” he asks, and that look on Jungkook’s face is very suspicious. It takes a couple seconds for him to realize what the three of them were planning. “Oh shit.”

Jungkook grins, his hands meeting Yoongi’s shoulders for a harsh push backwards, and the next thing he knows he’s underwater as a wave crashes, flapping his arms to get afloat. When his head pops back above water, Jungkook is a few paces up from the shore on dry sand, laughing his head off. What a menace.

“Join me,” Yoongi calls, whipping his dripping hair out of his face, ignoring the goosebumps he gets once he emerges from the ocean. Elise squeals and runs away, still carrying Yoongi’s phone, shoving it in Jae’s face, probably to show off the video. “Jungkook-ah,” he says in Korean, just to watch the panic grow on Jungkook’s face. “You know I’m going to have to kill you now, right?”

“Uh-oh,” Jungkook says, and uh-oh is right. Yoongi is going to get him back.

Before Jungkook can make a run for it, Yoongi drags him towards the ocean by the wrist, not letting him go until they’re knee-deep. “You should know better than to fuck with me,” he says, and Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, trying to shuffle away, but one swift tug and they’re both falling into the water, bodies parallel with the ocean’s bottom. Jungkook wrestles against Yoongi’s hold until he’s free, paddling with his arms and legs to get above water.

“You’re cruel,” Jungkook says, spitting out water, and Yoongi only grins. As long as he’s triumphant in achieving his revenge, then he has nothing to say. “That was so mean, hyung.”

“What’s mean is dragging me away from a very captivating and insightful memoir just to throw me in the ocean,” Yoongi responds, and splashes Jungkook with a handful of water. All he gets back is a pout and puppy eyes. “Did you pre-plan this with my kids?”

Jungkook uses his head to gesture to the area they chose to settle in. “It was Elise’s idea,” he says, running both hands through his hair. Now that he’s drenched head to toe in water, Yoongi really can’t help but look at Jungkook’s chest. And, fuck, now he’s pulling off his shirt. “It was pretty funny if you ask me.”

“Troublemakers, all of you,” Yoongi responds, averting his eyes when the sunlight catches on the shiny metal of the piercings. It doesn’t help that there are no tattoos to distract from it. Something burns low in his stomach and he dives into the water before he can get an idea of what that could mean.

By the time Yoongi pokes his head back out of the water, Jungkook is already halfway gone, wringing his shirt out, drying himself off with a towel. He stays in the ocean, breathing in the salt air and taking in the sand sinking beneath his toes. Just watching Jungkook roam around shirtless is making his thoughts run wild. And it shouldn’t. He doesn’t like men like that. This isn’t anything more than an appreciation of his friend’s body, right?

Except, Yoongi can’t get the thoughts out of his mind. His imagination doesn’t venture often, but with the image of Jungkook’s pierced nipples still fresh, all his brain wonders is how sensitive he might be. Yoongi splashes water in his face and forces a deep breath into his painfully tight lungs. He must be broken today or something.

Elise bounds up to him on the way back to their spot, returning his sunglasses before showing him the video of him getting shoved into a wave. “I sent it to Halmeoni,” she says with a sneaky giggle, and Yoongi threatens her with a wet hug before she screams and dives behind the umbrella, where he can’t see her.

“Hungry?” Jungkook asks—he’s still shirtless, so Yoongi is trying his hardest to not even look in his direction, focused on drying himself off. “The sandwiches are really good, hyung. Please have one.”

“Sure, I’ll have one. Thanks,” Yoongi reassures him, dropping the towel in a pile in exchange for one of the sandwiches Jungkook brought.

When Jungkook moves to sit right beside Yoongi, he figures that this avoiding thing isn’t going to be easy for him. “Okay, did I actually upset you by doing that?” he asks, and fuck the genuine concern in his voice makes Yoongi feel bad for his sudden standoffishness. He didn’t want to make himself look like an asshole. But he doesn’t want to look like a creep either. “Yoongi. Come on. I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, Jungkook,” Yoongi tells him, giving him a glance and a smile to make sure he knows. And his eyes must have minds of their own before the second he sees the piercings in his periphery, he knows he’s staring way too hard. “Seriously, it wasn’t a big deal. It was funny.”

Jungkook huffs. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say? Or maybe he noticed how Yoongi keeps staring at his chest. “I don’t know, you still seem upset by it,” he says, nudging Yoongi’s leg with his own. Side-by-side, Yoongi’s skin looks like a fucking ghost compared to how Jungkook’s glows golden in the sunlight, even beneath the tattoos. “Are you sure it’s fine? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or something.”

“You’re not.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe you when you sound like that.”

Yoongi finally takes a bite of his sandwich; it’s really fucking good, practically spilling with bulgogi. He spots Jae by the ocean again, taking pictures of Elise and Nari playing with the wet sand, writing things out before the water washes them away.

“I’m really sorry, hyung…”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Yoongi says, and forces himself to face him. Because otherwise, he thinks Jungkook will just continue to say sorry when he really doesn’t need to. “We’re friends, you wanted to do a prank on me with my kids, and it worked. I’m not mad at you, so just—” He stops when his eyes automatically track to Jungkook’s chest, again. He can’t keep doing this. “Jesus, can you just put a fucking shirt on?”

Jungkook gives Yoongi a weird look, after that. He probably deserves it. “Okay?” Jungkook doesn’t sound offended by it, but Yoongi still wishes it came out differently. He takes another bite of his sandwich and goes back to watching the kids as Jungkook gets up, digging through his bag. “Um, actually, I kind of didn’t bring another shirt. I only have extra clothes for Nari.”

“It’s fine.” Yoongi finishes his sandwich in one final bite, and digs through the cooler for something to drink. He ends up picking a bottle of water, because he thinks he might die if he has sugar or literally anything else. “You’re fine. Stay undressed.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I know.” Yoongi tenses his hand around the unopened water bottle. Something is wrong with him. Why can’t he stop thinking about it? “Sorry.”

Jungkook sits across from him, this time, criss-cross with a worry in his eyes. Yoongi has every intention of focusing on his face and only his face and not his nipples. “I’m just trying to understand the sudden mood switch, that’s all,” he says, fiddling with something in his lap, but nope, Yoongi isn’t going to look down. He’s going to stare at his face. His cute face and pretty eyes. “Is it my tattoos, is that why you want me to cover up? I know you’re older, but I thought you were at least a little progressive.”

“No, no. Not at all. No, Jungkook, your tattoos are great,” Yoongi insists, and shakes his head, blows it off. He can’t do this, he needs to just not be around him. Maybe he should pretend to have a call? But Elise still has his phone. “I think it’s cool, you have this art all over your body. I could never do that. It’s not that at all.”

“Then?” Jungkook blinks, reaching up to run his fingers through the side of his wet hair. Fuck, that’s hot too. “What is it?”

Yoongi sighs. Is he really going to say it? “You want to know?” he asks, and Jungkook nods, fervent and ready for an answer. With those eyes—wide, soft, pleading—Yoongi really can’t avoid it any longer. “Look. It’s really cool that you’re comfortable with your body, but—it’s just—your chest. It’s very distracting.”

“My chest is—oh.” Jungkook’s hands immediately fly over his nipples, eyes wide. Yoongi feels the heat burn his cheeks. “Holy shit. I actually forgot about them.”

“I don’t care if you have them, it’s your body and all, I just keep looking,” Yoongi rushes to add before Jungkook can jump to any conclusion about the type of person he is. They already went through that mess of him avoiding conversation and making Jungkook insecure and sorry over his tattoos. He doesn’t need a repeat. “Sorry. That’s probably such a weird thing to say.”

Jungkook’s best idea is to wrap a towel around his shoulders and let it drape over his chest—it surprisingly works. Yoongi has no problems looking at him and keeping his eyes away from his hidden nipples.

“It’s hardly the worst thing I’ve heard about my tattoos and shit,” Jungkook says with a hoarse laugh, tapping his leg in a nervous, absentminded action. Yoongi sighs and pushes his hair back—he’s such an idiot. He’s already gone and fucked up the only friendship he’s made here. “I try to wear loose clothes because a lot of people don’t like them at JJ’s. I’m really sorry, hyung, I didn’t know you were like that.”

“I’m not like that.” But Yoongi can’t explain why he needs Jungkook to cover up without exposing his own twisted thoughts. “Just trust me, okay? You are allowed to do whatever you want with your body and don’t let me or anyone else make you feel sorry for that.” He pauses. He knows how much he’s contradicting himself. “Just. Cover up for now. Okay?”

The silence is actually painful. Yoongi wonders if he’s going to stop breathing and just die.

“Dad!”

Yoongi lifts his head at the sound of Jae’s voice, rushing over, almost tripping over his own feet as he carries something in his palm. His eyes are full of excitement when he drops down to his knees in the sand, showing off a tiny crab he found.

“Look how cute it is,” Jae says, and shows it off to Jungkook too. “It crawled on Elise’s foot and she almost killed it.”

“Good on you for saving it,” Yoongi tells him, reaching over to mess with his hair. “Aren’t you glad you came?”

Jae shrugs and tries to play it off nonchalantly, but Yoongi knows. “I guess so,” he mutters with a little roll of his eyes, but the moment he looks back at that tiny crab, the innocence returns. God, Yoongi loves this kid. He hopes he never loses that childish layer to him.

“You know,” Jungkook starts, leaning over to look at the crab too. “Joon really likes small animals like this little guy. Half his Instagram page is filled with tiny crabs and frogs from when he goes on hikes.” He sits up and flips his hair back, and fuck, Yoongi needs to stop looking. If he keeps looking, he’s afraid his thoughts are going to turn sexual and that’s a little too weird, isn’t it?

Of course, it’s that moment where Jae completely ignores everything Jungkook just said and instead asks, “Samchon, do you have your nipples pierced?” with his eyes wide.

“Look away,” Yoongi says, shoving Jae’s head in the opposite direction. That young mind is bound to run free if he doesn’t step in. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Jungkook laughs out loud. His mood is naturally brighter, but maybe that’s only because Jae is around. “I think I get it now,” he says, sharing a quick look with Yoongi, a strange smile on his face, like they’re sharing a secret. Yoongi looks away with a sigh; well, if Jungkook thinks the reason he should cover up is to discourage Jae from nipple piercings, then he won’t complain. In fact, it wasn’t even something he considered until now.

“That’s really cool, samchon. I really want to get my ears pierced,” Jae says, but Yoongi shushes him before he can go off. This will just turn into Jae complaining about not having his ears pierced again. “Dad, please? I really want them. Look how many Jungkook-samchon has.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Yoongi defends, leaning back on his palms. He keeps telling Jae that if he wants to get his ears pierced, to do research in finding a studio, make the appointment, and Yoongi will just take him and pay for it. “You have to learn to take initiative, Jae. Can’t do everything for you.”

Jungkook cuts in with a quiet, “I could do it…”

Yoongi really hadn’t considered that. “You’d do that for us?” he asks, looking up at Jungkook’s uneasy expression. “I have no problem with him actually piercing his ears. I mean, I have mine pierced, if I said no, I’d be a fucking hypocrite.” He glances at Jae; he’s sitting on his knees with his eyes down on the little crab. “Just wanted him to find his voice a little by finding a place and making his own appointment.”

“I can’t do that,” Jae says. “I clam up, Dad, you know that.”

“I’m like that too,” Jungkook admits. Jae looks up with wide eyes, and Jungkook smiles at him, still holding the towel over his chest. Yoongi is grateful he’s here. “But listen, Jae, you’re what, sixteen?” Jae nods. God, he’s growing up so fast. “You gotta force yourself, man. If I had never approached my favorite artist about an apprenticeship, I’d be homeless. Once you try it once, and you follow through, you’ll realize that you’re better than whatever’s stopping you.”

Yoongi chooses to keep quiet and observe. He enjoys listening to Jae’s thoughts. Maybe it’s his fear talking, but he worries sometimes that Jae is a little too much like him.

“The thing is,” Jae starts, and it’s followed with this heavy sigh, turning towards the ocean waves still crashing on the stand. Yoongi does the same; he isn’t sure how Elise and Nari play around in the water for so long. “I have tried before. Every time I called a studio, I got so anxious that I couldn’t speak. It’s so humiliating.”

“What is it about the phone calls that make you shut down?”

“I don’t know. I guess… not seeing the person’s face? I can’t tell how they’re judging me.”

It’s interesting, watching Jungkook face the opposite direction, then ask, “So if I face away and speak to you, do you think I’m judging you?”

Jae scoffs, even rolls his eyes at the idea. “No, of course not, that’s ridiculous,” he says, but then it clicks, on his face, how he’s just proved himself wrong. “Oh. I get it.”

Yoongi smiles and pulls out his book again; Jungkook is certainly worth having around his kids, regardless of what he looks like.

++

Something about returning to work after spring break always throws Yoongi off balance. The overlapping pressure from attempting to balance family life and work life doesn’t give him much wiggle room to relax, if any. Every week, he finds himself getting pulled away from the kids other than to eat dinner with them a couple of times, but even those nights have become more fleeting.

He doesn’t know what it is, exactly. If the urge to bury himself in work has anything to do with the events that unfolded with Nina, or those strange feelings he gets when Jungkook even looks in his direction. It’s distracting enough for him to very consciously start avoiding JJ’s, and he even dusts off his espresso machine to start making Americanos at home. They aren’t even half as good as the ones he gets at JJ’s.

Yoongi knows he has a history of doing this. Shutting down to the point where he becomes impenetrable, ghost-like, always present but not quite. He doesn’t know how to stop it. Each time he’s had this feeling creeping up on him, he’s chosen to give into it every time. Even if it means late, sleepless nights and a little too much coffee in his system and a newly formed habit of zoning out.

He tries to pull through and keep himself on his own two feet, but it isn’t as easy as it used to be. No matter how often he speaks to Eomma and Appa over the phone, or watches Disney films with the kids on the weekends, sometimes Yoongi just can’t. Sometimes he’s just so close to giving up. So close to wishing he didn’t have to do anything, as selfish as he knows it is.

It isn’t that late in the evening, but Yoongi has spoken to so many students about the final paper that his eyes are heavy and he’s twitching for another cup of coffee. There’s a coffee shop somewhere on campus, but he doesn’t have enough energy or time to leave his office and get something—there are too many last minute assignments to grade, more students to assist. All Yoongi wants is a nap.

A knock shakes him out of his thoughts, sitting up in his chair, ignoring the strain in his lower back and puts on a smile for the pair of students standing in his doorway. Mary Ana and Ollie—they’re inseparable in the classroom, like to talk more than work, but when the time comes, they bring engaging thoughts to lectures. Yoongi likes them, even if he’s shit at remembering their names. He’s pretty sure they’re both taking his gender studies class.

“Questions?” Yoongi asks, but one glance between the two, and they share a knowing giggle. He raises his eyebrows and adjusts his glasses. “So you don’t have a question about the final paper?”

Ollie shrugs. “I do, but…” He trails off and nudges Mary Ana closer to the edge of Yoongi’s desk. “Well, a few of us think you’re a great professor and all, and we know you’re new to teaching here.” Mary Ana places something on Yoongi’s desk—a gift bag. “It’s from us and a bunch of other people in our class. We hope you like it.”

“Oh.” Yoongi hesitates to reach for the bag. He’s had a handful of other students in New York do a similar gesture for him while he was a TA, but he was under the impression that he hadn’t tried hard enough to connect with the students here. A couple of the intro classes he got stuck teaching have more students than average, so most of the time they get help from TAs instead of him. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate it.”

Scooting closer to his desk, Yoongi pulls out the tissue paper and three enveloped cards. He pauses to pull the cards out, takes the time to read every message, even if the shortest one only says Thanks, in what he can only assume is a monotone voice. A few of them went overboard, filling up almost half the card space, saying things like he helped them figure out what they wanted to study, or understanding why the study of society is so important. He never really imagined that he did so much for these students.

He peers into the gift bag and pulls out the contents; a customized coffee mug with his name on it and the USC logo stamped on the side, alongside a bag of coffee roast. “Do I drink that much coffee that this is the gift you thought of for me?” he asks, and the two of them laugh as he examines the coffee beans. They’re the fancy kind. “Thank you guys. I’ll definitely be putting this to good use for the rest of the semester.”

“Not too much, though,” Mary Ana says, very serious. “We don’t want your blood turning to coffee.”

“Of course not.” Yoongi laughs at the thought and sets the gift back in the bag, setting it on the floor by his feet. “Ollie, did you still have a question?”

“Oh, yeah!” Ollie shrugs off his backpack and pulls out his laptop, sitting across from Yoongi while he types in his password. “I just wanted your approval on the topic for my paper and was wondering if you could maybe recommend some helpful articles? I don’t really know where to start.”

They spend the next half hour talking through the topic Ollie chose and hunting for some articles to start with for his research. There’s a handful of the ones Yoongi finds for him that he hasn’t actually read, so he’s curious to see if they’ll be helpful and what Ollie will do with it. By the time he sends them off, his brain decides that it’s fried and going to shut down for the rest of the evening.

Yoongi packs up his belongings, throwing his coat over his dress shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He pulls his phone out to check his messages. A couple are from Elise, double checking that she isn’t getting dropped home with a friend, and Yoongi sends back a text telling her that he’s on his way. Maybe the drive will help him get work off his mind.

His feet drag along the floor on the way out of his office, towards the parking garage. The evening air in the spring is cold in California, similar to New York in a sense, but also not at all. New York gets wet during this time of year, but so far there hasn’t even been as much as a chance of rain in the forecast. Yoongi doesn’t even have the weather to blame his mood on.

It takes about forty-five minutes to get to the studio where Elise takes lessons. The classes are one of the only things Yoongi allows himself to go the extra mile for, in terms of expenses. She’s been in dance from the second she figured out what having rhythm felt like. Sometimes Eomma and Appa pitch in to fund her lessons, and he thinks it’s because they both know what it looks like for a kid to give up their dreams.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, greeting her with a forced smile when she climbs into the passenger seat. “Have a good day?”

“I’m so hungry,” Elise groans, flopping her weight against the passenger side door. Once she’s buckled, Yoongi does a U-turn to head back for the highway. “What’s for dinner?”

Yoongi taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” he admits, and it’s bad, he knows it is. The fact that he hasn’t been able to cook his family a proper meal in a couple of weeks, simply due to the fact that he has no energy left to do it. “We can order out, if you want?”

“Did you ask oppa what he wants?”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since last night.”

Elise heaves a big sigh. “What do you want to eat?” she asks, poking Yoongi in the ribs.

It’s just a playful gesture, but Yoongi is so tired. He holds back his bad attitude, saves it for later. When he’s alone. “I’m not really hungry,” he says, which is partially true. The traffic on the freeway might give him a migraine, but by the time he gets home, he knows all he’ll want to do is sleep. “You and Jae can talk about it and then we can grab it on the way home?”

As they wait through traffic, Elise turns on the radio and Yoongi doesn’t have the heart to tell her to turn it off. The car inches forward, painfully slow, and he shuffles around in his seat. That relief will come, he knows that, but after his long day and knowing that he has to figure out dinner, it all feels endless. Yoongi doesn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Okay, oppa said he ordered from the fried chicken restaurant that’s in the same lot as JJ’s,” Elise announces once they’re closer to home. Yoongi sighs quietly; they ate from that restaurant last week, and while the quality of food isn’t bad by any means, it’s just on the expensive side. He needs to find the time to go to the grocery store. “Is that okay? He said all you have to do is go in and pay.”

Yoongi nods his head and forces a smile. “That’s fine, I know you guys like that place,” he says, reaching over to pat the top of her head. Their exit comes around and Yoongi pulls off the highway, and the traffic on the main roads is still pretty congested. He’s almost there, he tells himself.

He parks in the far end of the lot, closer to JJ’s because the spots are full and heads down to the restaurant with his hands shoved deep in his pockets and Elise at his side, scrolling through her phone. Yoongi picks up the food, pays, and lets Elise cling to his arm as they head back to his car.

“Appa, can I get hot chocolate?” Elise asks, as they near JJ’s.

Yoongi doesn’t want to say no. “Sure,” he says, and she redirects them into the coffee shop.

The ambience here has always provided some sense of comfort, but this time Yoongi steps inside and his skin crawls. The lights are much brighter than usual, and the aroma of coffee is beginning to make his stomach churn. Maybe that has more to do with the fact that he has been living off coffee rather than the fact that he’s inside the shop.

“Hi samchon!”

Yoongi jerks out of Elise’s grip at the sound of another’s voice, breathing deeply through his nose as his gaze settles on Nari standing innocently in front of him. She has pen marks all over her arms, and even a poorly-drawn flower between her collarbones, just like her father. Jungkook probably wasn’t too excited to see his kid with drawings on her skin again.

“Hey, Nari,” Yoongi says, passing Elise his wallet so she can pay for the drink she wants. He sits on a knee to be at Nari’s height and smiles as best as he can. “How’s it going? Giving your dad trouble?”

Nari giggles into her hand. “Of course,” she says, and leans over to whisper in his ear. “Appa said it’s a secret, but he loves all my drawings.” She steps back to show them off, arms held out for him to examine. Of course they aren’t the pinnacle of art, but it’s pretty good for a seven-year-old. At her age, Jae and Elise were both still making stick figures and scribbles. “Do you like them too?”

“I think they’re great,” Yoongi says honestly. “Where’s your dad?”

Nari turns and points to the door across from the bathroom. “Talking to Jinie-samchon, and he asked the girl at the counter to watch me, but she’s doing a really bad job at it,” she says, and Yoongi checks to find the teenaged barista who took Elise’s order making a drink, rather than watching Nari. “See? She isn’t even paying attention.”

“Right,” Yoongi says, standing up again once Elise joins them, letting them chat while they wait for the hot chocolate.

“Nari?” Jungkook’s voice comes from the back, stepping out of the backroom with a regular-sized backpack over his shoulders and a Nari-sized backpack in his hands. He spots them before Yoongi can step away, outside or somewhere else he won’t have to stay and talk, but he’s already been caught. “Hey, Yoongi. It’s been a while. You, uh, never responded to my text.”

The first thing Yoongi notices is how tired Jungkook looks. This close, the area around his eyes seems to be turning gray, skin a little pale and discolored. It might just be general exhaustion, but also might be something else—either way, Yoongi worries. He shouldn’t have a right to when he’s been a terrible friend over the past few weeks, avoiding him.

“Yeah.” Yoongi’s fingers clench around the handle of the plastic bag. “I’m sorry about that. Just busy with work since the semester’s almost over.” He looks away to watch Nari turn her back to Elise so she can braid her hair. The sight warms the ache in his chest. “What was your text about?”

Jungkook sounds a little far away when he responds. “It’s nothing, now,” he mutters. When Yoongi looks up again, he hates what he sees. How absolutely crushed Jungkook looks. “I can tell when someone is pushing me away. So I won’t bother you anymore.” Jungkook’s breath shudders when he plasters the fakest smile on his face. “Hey, Nari, let’s go home, okay?”

Nari pouts. “But Elise-unnie’s still doing my hair…” She looks up at Jungkook with those big eyes, and Yoongi wonders how Jungkook doesn’t cave immediately. “Two more minutes?”

“Okay. Just two,” Jungkook says softly, with a sigh. When he looks at Yoongi again, it’s just to shake his head, disappointment rushing out of him. He moves past without a word.

But fuck, Yoongi isn’t going to let himself lose a good friend. “I’m really sorry, Jungkook,” he says, turning around, and Jungkook stops. Yoongi means that—he is sorry that he’s been so consumed by his thoughts that it’s made him like this. He pushes people away when shit gets hard and he wishes he didn’t. It always ends up biting him in the ass, in the end. He always ends up alone. “I don’t know how to explain what I’ve been feeling lately. It’s not an excuse, but I just…”

“You clearly don’t like me as a person,” Jungkook says, and Yoongi just—he wants to cry.

That isn’t even remotely true. Yoongi has been interested in who Jungkook is as a person beyond the guy who makes his coffee sometimes ever since he learned his name. He has no words to explain what feelings burn inside him every time they’re close to each other, talking, touching. Yoongi likes being around him, and he is afraid of that, to the point where it’s damaging their friendship instead of progressing it.

“Nari,” Jungkook calls, again. This time, his voice isn’t as soft, carrying with a certain firmness. Nari seems to know that Jungkook is at a limit, because she jumps on Elise to give her a hug, then rushes to join him.

They leave without another word. Yoongi watches them go, speechless, too paralyzed to move.

He drives home hating himself a little.

Despite what he wanted, Yoongi doesn’t go straight to bed when he gets home. He locks himself in the bathroom and forces himself to take a bath, sink into the hot water and face the thoughts that have been swirling around his mind for weeks now. He has to acknowledge the facts. He can’t keep letting them win. But as soon as he begins to consider that he might feel something for Jungkook, Yoongi shuts it out. Decides to face the truth another night.

Tonight ends poorly, and it’s not the lowest Yoongi has ever been, but it certainly is a level of lowness that he hasn’t felt in years. To the point where he unlocks his alcohol cupboard and serves himself a glass of wine and then gets drunk enough to question whether he knows his own name. The kids are asleep, and Yoongi is here on the kitchen floor with a bottle of wine and all these feelings.

It’s too much, Yoongi thinks. To feel everything with an intensity that makes his head pound, to have everything stacking on top of him and no escape route. Yoongi was better at this when he was in New York, and his parents lived a bus ride away. They eased the burden, but now he’s alone. Can’t ask for help because he has no one to help him. And he put himself in the position, dug his own grave.

“What is wrong with me?” Yoongi mutters to himself, stumbling with his empty bottle of wine, crashing into the coffee table on his way to the couch. A scrape appears on his shin, but he ignores it as he collapses against the cushions, blinking at the ceiling, tired and bleary.

He misses the security of being in New York. It’s the place he grew up. Even if he didn’t have close friends, he still had them—but here, in California, Yoongi really knows no one. There’s Jungkook and his friends, but he’s ruined that now, hasn’t he? Surely Jungkook has told his friends how much of a terrible friend Yoongi is. That he’s unreliable and flaky and weird.

But he can try again, can’t he? Maybe if he can pull himself together once the grading period ends, the weight of work can be eased off his shoulders and he’ll be able to reapproach Jungkook, talk things out. Yoongi is an adult. He’s fucking thirty-nine-years-old. He should be able to talk to a friend without breaking down or getting caught up staring.

He falls asleep there, tired and confused and so utterly alone.

++

The habit progresses past the end of the semester. Yoongi spends his nights drinking and grading and drinking some more. He tries to reach out for help; contacts some of his old friends from New York, talks to Eomma more than he has since they moved, and it pushes him a little, gets him to go to the grocery store, at least. There isn’t much anyone can do. He’s falling and he has to catch himself.

Yoongi wakes up on Saturday with a foul taste in his mouth and a painful hangover. His blinds have been left open, sunlight pouring in through the window, leaving him disgruntled by the time he climbs out of bed. On his way up, he knocks something over with his foot, and when he looks down, he finds it’s an empty bottle of whiskey.

“Fuck,” he whispers. He hasn’t been any better than Nina these days, has he?

He moves past the empty bottle and into the bathroom, pulling off his sweat damp clothes, throwing them in a pile. The hot water of the shower brings relief to the tension in his head, resting his forehead on the wall with his eyes screwed shut. He’s a fucking hypocrite. The only real difference between him and Nina is that he knows better than to do it when the kids are there to see him.

The shower makes him feel marginally better, so he gets dressed and checks his texts. There’s a reminder from Eomma that he needs to pick up groceries, again, and Yoongi thanks her in response. It’s the effort that counts and he needs the people around him to know that he’s endlessly grateful for it, even if he can’t give back that same energy.

Yoongi puts his phone down and picks up the empty bottle, staring at it reflecting light, furrowing his eyebrows. Sober, he knows this won’t be helpful to him anymore. In the beginning, it was good—the alcohol chipped away at how empty his heart was, filling the void. But now it’s just become a bandaid. Something he keeps relying on at the end of the day just to feel.

He steps out of his bedroom, running his free hand through his hair, and it’s unlucky of him that Jae is leaving his room at the same time. Stepping out with an empty bottle in his hand isn’t a good look. Yoongi knows that Jae isn’t stupid. He knows that as soon as Jae’s eyes zero in on the bottle, he has something to say.

“Dad.”

Yoongi turns away. Shouldn’t, but does it anyway. “I know,” he says, walking to the kitchen. He throws the bottle in recycling and presses his hands firmly against the countertop. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not with Jae, not with anyone. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

Jae doesn’t say anything, as Yoongi moves to the fridge to check what he can make for breakfast. There’s eggs in the fridge, at least, so maybe he can put something together with that.

“Are you?” Jae asks. The question isn’t harsh, but it’s real. Yoongi places the carton of eggs on the counter and looks back at Jae. “I know you do a lot for us. And—and I’m always grateful for how you protect us, but if you do this, then… then how are you any better than Eomma?”

Yoongi can feel the tears press against his eyes. “Jae,” he says softly, and it breaks him how Jae only shakes his head and crosses his arms, trying to appear stronger than he is. But there’s something hurting underneath this outer shell, Yoongi knows. Of course he knows. Jae is his son. His son. “I’m really… not in a good place right now.”

“I know that, Dad. I can see that. I don’t know if Elise can. But I can.”

“You shouldn’t know that. I…” Yoongi has to be better than this. For Jae, for Elise—if he can’t do it for himself, then he has to do it for them. “I’m not any better than her, am I?”

Jae shakes his head, wide-eyed, maybe a little afraid. “Not in that way. I just mean—we all know what she turns to when things are bad for her. You’ve just been doing the same,” he says, and nervously touches his glasses. Naturally, Yoongi does the same, pushing his frames up his nose and wondering just how much Jae takes after him. “You don’t realize I notice, do you?”

“Because it’s not your responsibility to take notice of these things, Jae.” Yoongi sighs. He doesn’t want to belittle him, treat him so much like a child that this conversation ends up going awry. Jae is sixteen—not an adult, but getting closer to being one every day. “You’re still a kid. You’re my responsibility, not the other way around.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”

“Sungjae.” Jae tenses, his hands turning into fists, his eyes falling shut. Yoongi sighs again. “I’m sorry. I mean that. I really—I don’t know how to explain this in a way you’ll understand. You’re so young, Jae.” He takes a deep breath. Young, but one of the smartest kids he knows. “I haven’t really been here for you guys this past month. I need to change that. I want to be better than this.”

Jae nods hastily, wiping his nose with his knuckles. “I know that, Dad, I just get worried that… that you’re going to do something you might regret later,” he says, his voice so small, so scared. Yoongi takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes; he can’t believe he ever gave advice to Namjoon about how to parent. He’s clearly doing such a shit job at it. “Can’t I help you? Appa…”

Yoongi sobs into his hands before he can get a hold on himself. He really can’t remember the last time Jae called him anything other than Dad and something about that truly breaks him.

“Come here,” he whispers when he notices that he isn’t the only one crying. Jae slams into his chest, holding onto Yoongi so tight, crying into his shoulder. Yoongi fucked up. He fucked up bad, and he needs to fix it. “I’m so sorry, Sungjae. Appa’s gonna be better. I’m gonna be better, okay? I don’t want you to worry about a damn thing.”

After a few more minutes, Yoongi separates them, wiping the tears off Jae’s face. It’s crazy to him that Jae has been with him for nearly half of his life. The fact that he was given the privilege of having two kids and watching them grow up to be these people. These people, who are so complex, so loving, so dedicated. Seeing them makes Yoongi so proud. He wants to make them proud, too.

“Thank you for saying something,” Yoongi tells him, swiping off another tear from his cheek. Jae sniffs and nods, and pretends like he isn’t crying when he so obviously is. “If I ever do something like this again, you need to say something. I don’t want to ever get to this point again, or worse, and you know what worse looks like—please say something. Tell me sooner.”

Jae nods again, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands. “I will,” he croaks, and Yoongi hugs him again. He’s so furious with himself for letting it get this far. For being so selfish. For forgetting what his priorities are. “Dad, you’re not alone. Okay?”

“I know that, kid,” Yoongi breathes. He pulls back and touches the top of Jae’s head for a couple seconds, then kisses his forehead. “We’ll be all right.”

After a few seconds apart, Jae comes burrowing right back into Yoongi’s chest, and all Yoongi can do is hold him.

“I’m sorry I compared you to Eomma,” Jae says, after a period of sniffles and hiccups. Yoongi pulls away and holds Jae by the shoulders, just shaking his head. There was some truth in that. How was he any better than Nina if he was using alcohol as a means of escapism? “I don’t actually think that. You’re a lot better than her… I know she’s done some shitty stuff, and you’re the opposite of that.”

Yoongi smiles a little. “Thank you for that,” he says, ruffling the top of Jae’s hair. “And when did I ever say you could curse with me?”

It brings Jae right back to normal with a groan, pressing his forehead to Yoongi’s shoulder. “You do it all the time,” he complains, and Yoongi laughs as he rests his hands on Jae’s back, patting in slow beats to ensure this sense of calm remains.

“I’m just teasing,” Yoongi says. “Should I make some breakfast?”

“Yes. As payback for making me cry.”

“You got it.”

The three of them eat breakfast together and Yoongi’s chest feels lighter when he takes in the laughter, the jokes. How Elise always seems to bully her brother with disguised affection, and Jae takes and gives it right back to her. They love each other so much and Yoongi prays, prays that if something were to happen to him, they would always have each other’s backs.

He puts off work for the day and spends it with the kids, because that’s what he knows needs to be done. All this time, Yoongi has been wallowing alone, kicking himself for the problems he created, for not being able to pull himself out of this rut. The answer was in front of him all along; his family is here for him, even if they aren’t old enough to truly understand what’s going on. They love him, and he loves them.

It gets easier, day by day, even though he finds himself needing to dispose of all of the alcohol in the house to rid the temptation after three days. He never considered himself to be an addict. He pictured it to be what Nina looked like; erratic, emotional behavior, sometimes abusive, choosing a drink over the safety of loved ones. Not him; quiet, introspective, a crutch used at a breaking point, the only thing that didn’t make him feel so empty.

Yoongi needed that reminder from Jae. He feels all sorts of fucked up and humiliated that it’s his own son that put the idea in his mind, but who else was going to do it? As much as he called for help, those people who care for him in New York didn’t know that he was getting drunk every other night, burying his feelings in whiskies and wines.

Summer break begins and the kids are around more often to keep him grounded. The three of them move as a unit, for the most part, unless Jae wants to game with his friends back at home or Elise has dance lessons. Sometimes they come with Yoongi to campus and spend the day in his office, each of them doing their own thing in between his meetings.

Yoongi finds his feet again, kind of. He itches for something else to take the place of the drinks he’s given up, and he drowns that in all types of coffees. Bitter and sweet roasts, hot or iced, blended or frothy—he takes the chance to test out what types of drinks he can successfully make at home and what he should stick to picking up from JJ’s.

Sometimes it has him thinking of Jungkook, and those moments Yoongi has while sipping on his various coffees, he feels like absolute shit. He acted like such an asshole simply due to the fact that he… He is attracted to Jungkook.

There. He finally fucking admitted it. He’s attracted to Jungkook and he has no idea how to come to terms with that.

Yoongi can’t blame Jungkook for that, it seriously isn’t his fault, and he wishes he had the chance to go back and be less of a dick about the nipple piercing thing. Hot as it was, he acted as if he had no self-control. It isn’t like Jungkook should feel ashamed for it, especially when piercing is part of one of his jobs. Yoongi is so embarrassed by how he handled it and eventually, he comes to the conclusion that he needs to apologize properly.

It’s not easy. Yoongi sends a couple texts to Jungkook to test the waters, but he gets ignored. That’s fair. And the unread message Jungkook sent over a month ago now only adds fuel to the fire. He had invited Yoongi back to Jin’s house for another kickback. Yoongi doesn’t even remember what he was so busy with that he couldn’t even have the decency to respond.

That doesn’t end up working, so after about a week, Yoongi vows to corner Jungkook in JJ’s and talk to him. He will get over it if he isn’t given the chance to start over. Maybe he’ll finally get the chance to befriend other people at work. Or one of Elise’s dance friend’s parents will reach out to him. All he knows is he’ll only hate himself even more if he doesn’t even try.

The first two days Yoongi spends working and waiting, Jungkook doesn’t show up. He doesn’t see Jin or Namjoon either, or anyone else from Jungkook’s friend group. The other employees still know him as a regular—a couple teenagers and a handful of college students, he thinks—so he’s still friendly with them.

But, no Jungkook. Yoongi even asks one of the teenagers to make sure that he does still work here.

The girl just shrugs and says, “He isn’t picking up as many shifts anymore,” before she goes back to mopping the floor.

Day three, and Yoongi is starting to feel a little like a creep, but at least when he walks in, Jungkook is behind the coffee bar, which means he has a chance at making this right.

He isn’t the one to take Yoongi’s order or make his drink or call it out—but that’s fine. Yoongi sits at a couch with his laptop and reviews a grad student’s thesis idea as he awaits an opportunity to present itself. People come and go, and Yoongi wishes Jae were around to people watch with him today. With the number of couples and ahjummas and friend groups, Yoongi just knows that Jae would love to make up stories with him.

After what feels like forever—Yoongi’s eyes stinging from staring at a screen for too long and his wrist sore from resting it on the edge of his laptop—he finally notices when Jungkook takes off his apron, which is his cue to pack up too. Something tells him this is going to be his only chance. And if he fucks this up, then he has no doubt that he will have to find a new coffee shop to frequent.

Jungkook steps out from around the bar with his backpack over his shoulder and his phone in one hand, typing. He looks just as exhausted as the last time Yoongi saw him, nearly a month ago now. Yoongi wishes he hadn’t been so self-sabotaging to the point where he couldn’t even offer to be there for someone he’d begun to care about.

Before he can just walk right out, Yoongi calls, “Jungkook,” in hopes of getting his attention.

It works.

A series of emotions flash over Jungkook’s face before it settles on something neutral, something forced. “Yoongi,” he says, and Yoongi hates that he misses the fact that Jungkook would call him hyung before he went and screwed everything up. “Hi.”

“Do you have some time?” Yoongi runs his hands over the front of his thighs, rubbing the clamminess off his palms. He can see that Jungkook is trying to hide how he really feels; he can’t be thinking anything positive about Yoongi. “I… I want to talk to you about something. If you’ll listen.”

Jungkook glances down at his phone. His posture relaxes, giving the room a once over before he says, “Okay. I don’t think Nari wants to be picked up from her grandparents’ house yet anyway.” There’s a hint of a smile. Yoongi takes it as a small victory.

It’s awkward when they settle on the couch. How can it not be? Last time Yoongi saw him, their exchange was charged with weird energy, clearly full of misconceptions and judgment. Jungkook is a good guy; genuine and honest, a father who puts his kid before himself in more ways than one. He welcomed Yoongi into his home on a really fucking bad night. He deserves this.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi finally says. A weight eases off his shoulders. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

Jungkook blinks a couple times, owlish and slow. “That’s it?” he asks. “Sorry? That’s it?”

Okay, obviously Jungkook needs more context. This is the hard part.

“I’m sorry for the entirety of what happened at the beach,” Yoongi continues, and watches Jungkook’s face for a reaction that never comes. And so, he keeps going. He has to until he’s stopped or has nothing more to say. “Me acting weird during and after that was my fault. Pushing you away was an outcome of me not taking care of myself. It never had anything to do with me not liking you as a person. You’re a good person, and friend, and I was… a complete jerk. I’m sorry. For everything.”

The silence that follows is painfully similar to the kind that fell between them at the beach. Except this time, Yoongi is trying to remedy the effects of what he did and said that day. Maybe he won’t be able to reverse it, but just an acknowledgment would be enough closure for him to move on. Find other friends.

“If you don’t want to forgive me, then don’t,” Yoongi says, because he can see that Jungkook is thinking really hard about this. “Part of my job is literally studying social relationships. If you have negative feelings towards me at this moment—resentment, hatred, anything. Then you agreeing to forgive me gets us nowhere.”

“What?” Jungkook looks up, eyes blown wide, afraid. “I don’t have negative feelings towards you. I was just… so hurt. You’re older and I thought you were cool and I loved the fact that someone like you wanted to be my friend.” He stops and Yoongi’s heart aches for him. He didn’t realize how much Jungkook looked up to him. “I thought you pushed me away because you thought I’d be a bad influence on your son…”

“What?”

Jungkook’s eyes grow wider, somehow. Yoongi is baffled by the thought of Jungkook ever being a bad influence on Jae. He always felt it was the opposite. That Jungkook was someone other than him that Jae could go to if he needed to. “You got extra weird when Jae started talking about piercings so I thought—I thought…” Yoongi shakes his head. That was his weirdness about his attraction coming across wrong. “No? I was… wrong?”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows. “Like, so wrong,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Jesus, you gotta be joking. Jae finally fucking worked up the courage to start making phone calls because of you.”

“Really?”

“I think you helped him realize that no one’s judging him on the other side.”

“I… Oh my god, I was so mean to you for no reason!” Jungkook stares at his hands as if they’ve betrayed him, jerking his head back up to face Yoongi. His pretty eyes are still wide, and Yoongi tries to maintain eye contact until it’s just too much and he has to avert them. “You needed someone and I could have been there, but instead I pushed you off too. Oh my god, hyung, I’m really sorry.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “No, Jungkook, don’t blame yourself for that. I was doing it to myself,” he says, patting Jungkook’s shoulder, trying to make him feel better. For someone who deals with social relationships in a very hands-on setting at work, Yoongi thinks he’s pretty shit at managing his own. “It was really, really bad, I can’t deny that. But I don’t think it was something you could have helped.”

“Can I…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He fiddles with his fingers. “Can I ask what happened?”

It’s inevitable, this question. Yoongi wishes he could keep avoiding it. Keep pretending that nothing was wrong in the first place, but that would defeat the whole purpose of this. He came here to be honest with Jungkook and an explanation is the least he deserves.

“Yeah, I just… Um, I just fell into this black hole.” Yoongi picks at his fingernails and looks away, at the baristas talking behind the counter as they work. He doesn’t even remember what it was like to be that young. “Worked too much. Drank too much. Wasn’t really there for my kids in the way I should be.” He frowns, stomach sinking. “I feel like I became this fucked up person that didn’t even know himself.”

“I get it,” Jungkook says. Yoongi can’t help but think that he probably doesn’t—how could he? Even if they’re similar in the sense that they’re both single dads, their lives were worlds apart before they met. “It was a few years ago, but… I hit a point where I was in a really bad financial situation and I didn’t want to keep relying on my friends and Nari’s grandparents, so I kind of… shut down. I didn’t talk to anyone and Nari was really young, so she didn’t understand. I get it, really.”

Yoongi sighs, again, massaging the back of his neck. “I’m really ashamed of who I’d become,” he says, keeping his head low, hair brushing against his cheek. Everytime he thinks back at how he acted this past month, he hates himself. The way he kept telling himself that everything would turn out fine when he wasn’t even making an effort to get better. “I haven’t been that low in almost ten years.”

“When was the last time?”

“When Nina and I broke up. It was so much worse than this.”

Even though this wasn’t great either, Yoongi is glad for the fact that he won’t ever have to deal with what that brought to his life. Living with Eomma and Appa, balancing a full-time job and being a full-time student, while attempting to care for his kids—it was too much for him that at some point, he did exactly what Jungkook shared he did. Yoongi shut down. For a while, he could hardly get himself out of bed, couldn’t even push himself to go to work or school or play with his kids.

It was Eomma who got him out of that rut. He had spent too long lying on the floor with Elise in his arms and she had enough. She had coaxed him up with the promise of a good meal, forcing him to take a shower. Appa took the kids to the park, and Yoongi talked to Eomma for a couple hours, unloading everything that was building inside of him. And he felt lighter, doing that. Knowing he had people supporting him through the inevitable custody war that began soon after.

Now, Yoongi knows—he knows that he can be better. He will always try to be better.