Slapdash Struggles
Title: Slapdash Struggles
Pairing: Jongkey
Genre: Romance, family, fluff
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3800
Summary: Jonghyun isn't sure if he's cut out to be a dad, but he's willing to try.
It was a normal night. Or so Jonghyun thought.
Kibum waltzed into the living room with a teeming bowl of popcorn. The layer of butter melted on the top had Jonghyun sighing dreamily-the aroma reminded him of the movie theater. He scooted to the side hastily when Kibum made his way to the couch, giving the younger man enough room. When Kibum fell back, plopping down on the cushions of their new sofa, a couple kernels flung out of the bowl, landing between the pillows or on their laps. Jonghyun chuckled.
“And you say I’m messy,” he murmured, thumbing the corner of Kibum’s pretty lips because there was already a smidge of butter smeared there.
Kibum paid no mind, only replying with an eye-roll as he slid closer to the elder, settling into his side and resting his head on his shoulder. Jonghyun slanted his head just slightly, closing his eyes and exhaling mutely when his cheek flattened against Kibum’s silky head of hair. He breathed in deeply, eyelids fluttering at the intoxicating scent of the other man.
“You smell good.”
Kibum laughed, readjusting his position a bit as he offered the vibrantly-colored bowl in his hands to Jonghyun. “Popcorn?”
“Gladly,” Jonghyun sang, munching on a few pieces. The beginning credits were finally over, so the two of them relaxed after that, enjoying the movie. Or at least Kibum did. Jonghyun never really cared for girl movies.
Three-thirds of the way in and the couple had completely migrated to different positions, Jonghyun with his head on the armrest and his legs sprawled out over Kibum’s lap. Kibum didn’t seem to mind, though, simply folding his hands over his husband’s ankles, occasionally stroking over the side of his calves.
The movie had come to a heartwarming scene, one that Jonghyun thought may have been a little on the cheesy side, but something he enjoyed watching nonetheless. A mother was being reunited with her toddler whom she had never officially met before-Jonghyun had to admit, his lips were unconsciously turning up at the sight. It made him smile naturally-it was just something that such a spectacle would cause for anyone.
He glanced at Kibum, hoping to gain a peek at maybe a sweet little smile, but his stomach dropped when he did. Kibum’s face was vacant, void of all sentiment. His eyes were brimming slightly, the glistening of unshed tears clear under the movie’s glow. Jonghyun immediately shot up, brows furrowing because that was not a face to make when witnessing such an uplifting view.
“Kibum,” he said troublingly.
Kibum bit his lip, a tear rolling down his cheek. Jonghyun sat up further, his hands automatically fastening to the younger’s upper arms to soothingly caress them, to calm him down. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Kibum wiped his nose with his sleeve, much like a child would do. He shook his head once, gently moved Jonghyun’s feet from his lap, then stood and left the room.
Jonghyun paused while brushing his teeth when he heard the sound of muffled sobs from the bedroom. He sighed after rinsing, halfheartedly swabbing a hand towel to his mouth before speed-walking to the bedroom, his heart hammering quite fretfully.
“Kibum?” he asked as he entered the almost-black room, approaching the dark lump under the covers. He inched under the comforter, careful as not to disturb his lover. “Kibum?” he asked again, this time softer and more delicately. The younger rolled onto his other side, now facing Jonghyun. The latter frowned when he saw Kibum’s wet, rosy cheeks.
“What is it?” he whispered, his calloused knuckles hovering, just barely sweeping the apple of the younger’s left cheek. Kibum shut his eyes leisurely, leaning into the touch when Jonghyun cupped his face.
“Just…stuff,” Kibum sighed.
Jonghyun couldn’t help the slightly sarcastic laugh that left his now-dry throat. “Stuff?” he urged.
“Kids, Jonghyun, kids,” Kibum breathed, sounding more annoyed than before. “I’m not with a woman, I can’t be the father of a child. I’m also not a woman myself, so therefore, I can never have a child. I will never ever have that connection, Jonghyun.” His eyes went fanatical as they switched between both of the elder’s confused ones. “Never,” he uttered. “And, I don’t know, it just kinda fucks up my entire life considering that’s one of the things I want most in life-a child.”
Jonghyun didn’t know how to respond. He truly didn’t, so he merely continued to stare.
Kibum sighed for perhaps the fiftieth time (or at least that’s what it felt like to Jonghyun). “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to think it’s your fault, because it’s entirely mine. And I know I’ve never brought this up or hinted at it and I’m not exactly an open book, so this is probably a surprise. But…” he trailed off, his moist orbs tracing the creases of Jonghyun’s face. “But,” he repeated. “That’s just a dream of mine. Anyway, forget about it. Sorry to bring the mood down.”
With that comment, he curled into Jonghyun’s embrace, fitting snugly and perfectly into those solid arms. It seemed he was out like a light, because his breathing deepened significantly after an only five minute time lapse, leaving Jonghyun to lay lost in his thoughts.
It was a rather sleepless night for the older man.
The window was open in the living room, or rather, it had to be open, because Jonghyun was going to suffocate if he didn’t get some fresh air in his lungs ASAP (he had always liked the smell of San Francisco’s air). His body was trembling and miniature pools of sweat were forming on his nape, under his arms, near his clavicles…Truly, this was the most nervous he had ever been. He cleared his throat, picking at his collar and grimacing when he felt it uncomfortably peel from his hot neck.
He sighed as he looked down at the countless papers that were strewn over the coffee table. He didn’t know how he was going to go through all of them. Though that wasn’t the most worrisome part; the real anxiety came from the thought of telling Kibum. How would he go about doing it? He hadn’t a clue, seeing as he had never really been in a situation similar to this. All he knew was that if Kibum wanted this, he was willing to give it a try. After all, it sounded rather fun to him. A child, he mused, lips quirking.
Outside the apartment, Jonghyun heard the familiar slam of a car door. His heartbeat rang in his ears, reminding him of the task at hand. With shaky hands, he attempted to file the disorderly papers, messily stacking them into a tower that leaned just a bit too far to the right.
The door opened. Jonghyun froze.
Kibum raised one of his thick brows as he shrugged off his jacket. Under it was a black and white suit-an attire one wouldn’t normally be seen in. Of course, Kibum didn’t really have a normal job. He surpassed all of Jonghyun’s talents, rendering him speechless with his talent by becoming a wedding dress designer. He even had his own line of clothing. Jonghyun was amazed and proud every time he thought about it.
“Doing homework?” Kibum asked with amusement, opening the nearby closet and neatly hanging his jacket up.
“Not…exactly,” Jonghyun croaked, body going rigid when he felt Kibum stare at him.
“Then…what? Are you writing a novel or something?” the younger inquired jokingly, smile tipping his lips as he threw his car keys into the little plastic bowl on the dining room table. He was loosening his tie, heading down the hall and Jonghyun knew where this was going-he was going to go take a shower and cause Jonghyun to lose all of his courage that had taken so long to muster. He squeezed his eyes shut, mentally told himself to stop overanalyzing it, then uttered as Kibum was already halfway to the bathroom:
“These are adoption papers.”
The apartment fell quiet. Jonghyun chewed his lip, cursing himself. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid-
After about ten seconds (or ten years, Jonghyun wasn’t actually sure), Kibum returned to the living room. His eyes were wide, slightly moist on his otherwise blank face. His gaze darted between his husband and the several documents. Jonghyun watched his Adam’s apple nod.
“They’re…adoption papers?” Kibum asked, his voice breaking noticeably on the word ‘adoption’.
Jonghyun nodded slowly. “There are a lot of forms and things to fill out…but I thought, you know, after all that…” he scratched the back of his neck, suddenly realizing this might not have been the best idea. His body was numb with fear and apprehension, his hands shook quite violently as he lowered them to his lap. He swallowed, his throat’s texture parallel to sandpaper. “You know,” he said again, “we could maybe…” he shrugged, obviously stalling, “…get a boy.”
Kibum looked like he was going to collapse or something. Jonghyun felt like repeatedly banging his head against the wall.
“But this is only if you want to,” he added in quickly. “If-if you wanted your own child, like, one that had your genes stuff, I can understand how you wouldn’t want some random chick’s kid.” He laughed nervously. “I-I mean, back in the day, you always went on about wanting a boy that looked exactly like you…” he trailed off uncertainly, his eyes stinging. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, he thought, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears.
When he opened them again, Kibum was sitting beside him on the couch. He jumped back a little, surprised by his lover’s abrupt proximity. The younger searched his eyes-his own were filled to the brim, ready to spill over. Jonghyun thoughtfully brushed a tear away when that did happen.
“Are you…serious?” Kibum finally spoke, his voice a mere whisper.
“Yeah,” Jonghyun whispered back, though he hadn’t really meant to, considerately tucking a brown strand of hair behind Kibum’s ear. His fingers lingered there, thumb and index idly stroking along the shell of Kibum’s pale ear. The younger man shivered a little.
“I…” Kibum started to say, but ended up lifelessly slumping forward instead, falling into Jonghyun’s arms that automatically circled him. The elder chuckled, still a bit on edge as he wrapped the man in his warmth, hands stroking along his scalp and the small of his back.
“So…” he began, but Kibum shushed him, clinging to him.
“Just shut up for a minute, let me think.”
Jonghyun did as he was told, happy with holding the other man in silence. He closed his eyes, truthfully close to drifting off, before Kibum’s firm voice broke his thoughts of calming nothingness.
“You have to commit,” he said, lips moving against Jonghyun’s shoulder. Jonghyun nodded.
“And you have to help with money as much as you can. I may be a fashion designer, but I can’t carry all the weight. I know you’re working at a video store now, but that’s not enough. Try to find another job, at least a part time one or something.”
Jonghyun nodded again, zero hesitance.
“And…” Kibum faded out, his word an almost soundless breath, “and…we have to show this little boy a wonderful life.” He sniffed loudly, and Jonghyun pulled him back in response, studying his face. Kibum’s lips quivered. “He has to be our number one priority no matter what,” he said, pointing a finger. “No matter how many fights we go through, we work them out for him. He’s our life, Jonghyun.”
The older man tugged him forward, holding onto him and squeezing him securely. “I promise.”
Jonghyun was walking down the sidewalk next to a semi-busy street, God knows how many leashes bunched into his hand. He took long strides, attempting to catch up with the copious nosy canines that walked at what Jonghyun thought was a much too fast pace. He tripped over his feet a few times and ended up bumping into someone who, from the looks of it, wasn’t paying much attention.
“I’m sorr-” he shut up, lips forming an extensive grin when he lifted his head. Kibum was standing there with an incredulous look on his face, several grocery bags clustered into his fists.
“Hi,” Jonghyun greeted, flashing his persuasive, charming smile.
“Dog walking?” Kibum asked, brows lifting disbelievingly. “Really?”
Jonghyun shrugged, losing his balance momentarily as one of the medium-sized dogs attempted to bolt after a rabbit. Jonghyun used all of his strength to hold the animals back, as they now were practically choking themselves as they tried to escape, their hoarse, desperately cries echoing through the neighborhood. Jonghyun glanced around embarrassedly.
“Keep looking for a job, babe,” Kibum laughed, pecking his husband’s cheek. “I’m heading home.” He sent an amused sidelong glance to the anxious dogs. “Come back in one piece, okay?”
Jonghyun deflated. Maybe this wasn’t such a great part-time job idea after all.
Jonghyun stepped out of the shower, a towel loosely draped over his head. He hummed to himself, relishing in his fresh, minty smell. He liked that new shampoo Kibum bought. Not that it was for him to freely use, but Kibum didn’t need to know about that.
Jonghyun fetched a half-full glass of chocolate milk that he had earlier stashed in the refrigerator. He began gulping it down eagerly, but paused, perking up a bit when he detected Kibum passed out at the dining table, cheek pressed against the cherry wood.
Jonghyun smiled fondly, attentively adorning Kibum in a nearby fleece blanket that formerly hung over the recliner. He glanced down, noticing there were several packets of papers beneath Kibum’s head. He scanned through bits of English text, understanding the words enough to conclude that the papers related to adoption.
Such a hard worker, Jonghyun thought affectionately, gently combing his hand through Kibum’s locks.
“It’s too much stress,” Kibum almost whined, but he sounded more frustrated than anything; also, he knocked over a chair, so Jonghyun knew he wasn’t just mindlessly complaining this time.
“It’ll be worth it,” Jonghyun assured lightly, catching Kibum by clasping his face, searching his eyes. “It’ll be worth it,” he repeated.
“But what if it’s not,” Kibum’s eyes were shimmering.
“It will be,” Jonghyun uttered, sweeping his thumb over Kibum’s cheek, pressing a tender kiss to his eyebrow-scar. “Just believe me, okay? We’ll get through it. The bad part’ll be over before you know it.”
Kibum didn’t argue, but he didn’t concur either. At times like these, Kibum would usually lock himself in their shared bedroom, keeping to himself and Jonghyun knew not to bother him when he slipped into such moods-but it was different this time. He simply slouched into Jonghyun’s chest, sticking to the slightly shorter man. Jonghyun held him.
“We’ll get through it,” he whispered, rocking Kibum and shushing his sobs.
“This is him,” Kibum murmured, voice cracking and dying into quiet weeps. In his arms was a bundle of person that Jonghyun couldn’t exactly see. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see. He didn’t know what would happen. His heart was racing more than when he had proposed to Kibum and hell if he remembered (because that moment was sort of a blur), but he vaguely recalled the sensation of his heart threatening to burst his ribcage open. Or something akin to that.
“Th-This is,” Jonghyun gulped, biting his lip. He could feel the tears forming (or see them, rather), warping his vision and causing a pang to meet with the side of his head. He disregarded his headache, though. His brain was pretty much numb at this point, anyway.
“Hold him,” Kibum whispered, looking at Jonghyun with such sincerity, with such love that Jonghyun couldn’t, no, wouldn’t ever decline. Jonghyun saw the gleam of trust in his partner’s eyes, but couldn’t even muster the strength to nod, instead carefully lifting his unsteady hands, softly bearing the small child.
Jonghyun was never really good with kids. He acted like one, that was for sure, but that was just it-he was a mere kid himself, wasn’t he? So how was he expected to raise one? He and Kibum had gone over this numerous times. He’d been reassured constantly that he was indeed cut out for the role of a father, that this was the right thing to do, that watching your own child grow up was one of life’s most beautiful, miraculous events. But what if he didn’t succeed? What if something went wrong? Jonghyun didn’t like the possibilities of what could happen, of what he could fuck up. He was risking so much, so, so much, that he was actually having second thoughts…
The baby looked fragile, as fragile as glass, as a piece of precious art. Jonghyun’s eyes welled up and his breath faltered; he hovered a wavering palm above the child, his brain short-circuiting.
The little boy reached up, curled his hand around Jonghyun’s thumb, and that did it.
Jonghyun would do anything for him.
“Daddy?”
“Hm?” Jonghyun hummed distractedly, raising his brows but not looking up from his book.
“Can you make me food?” his boy asked cutely, tugging a little at the edge of his father’s sleeve. Jonghyun sent him an amused look, lips twitching. The tension in his nerves melted when he was met with big, pure eyes, ones that sparkled hopefully.
“Of course, kiddo,” he uttered easily, setting his book down in favor of hoisting the boy into his arms. The little toddler giggled, clinging to his father with a smile, his eyes crinkling adorably.
So Jonghyun proceeded to make his son the best meal he could think of-which was of course, a bowl of ramyeon, because really, without Kibum around, what else was Jonghyun good for? He chuckled to himself when his son began bouncing at the smell of the instant noodles, his face lighting up.
“Do you really like ramyeon that much?” Jonghyun asked him, a tinge of disbelief in his voice.
“I love it this much,” he answered, stretching his small arms as far as they could possibly go.
Jonghyun whistled, impressed. “That’s quite a lot.”
He nodded, lowering his voice to a rather loud whisper. “Don’t tell Daddy, but I like it better than the meals he fixes.”
Jonghyun doubled over, laughing hysterically.
Jonghyun watched as Kibum insistently wrapped a snug scarf around their son’s neck for what might have been the fifth time that morning. He had lost count.
“Daddy,” the boy whined, stomping his foot.
“It is chilly outside, Young Man,” Kibum pointed a finger at the boy, obviously ignoring the large pout plastered on the child’s face. Jonghyun had to admire Kibum; when that pout was directed at him, his resolve crumbled completely and he was forced to give his boy whatever he wanted.
“Now go,” Kibum commanded, patting the little boy’s bottom, directing him toward the school. The always-patient teacher was standing outside, smiling at them. She gave a wave and Kibum waved back, smiling sweetly. Jonghyun had always liked her. She never made comments on their sexuality or the fact that they had adopted a child even though they were both men. Although, Jonghyun liked most people in San Fran. They weren’t quite as judging as the ones back in Korea.
Kibum sighed when the teacher guided their child inside. His posture reduced and he slumped against Jonghyun’s shoulder. Jonghyun hacked a little when Kibum’s hair was pretty much forced into his nose and mouth.
“Oh, shut up,” Kibum punched his husband’s coat-clad arm, his voice sharp, but a mischievous glint danced in his eye. Jonghyun recognized that glint.
“Do you have work today?” Jonghyun promptly asked.
“No,” Kibum straightened up, his appearance noticeably brightening at Jonghyun’s words.
Jonghyun hummed, as if in thought. “Me neither.”
Kibum’s tongue swept over his lips. Jonghyun watched, a shit-eating grin crossing his chapped lips.
A couple weeks later, things got out of hand what with so many days off of work, and Jonghyun and Kibum nearly forget there was a toddler living with them.
So when said little boy worriedly asked, “Dad, were you hurting Daddy last night? I could hear him screaming,” the couple made a mental note to control their libido, at least for the sake of their child.
“The heater’s broken,” Kibum mumbled groggily, eyes still closed as he shifted a little closer to his husband. “It’s really fucking cold.”
Kibum tended to swear when he was even the slightest bit angry, Jonghyun found out (quickly after meeting him, actually-he never broke that bad habit). He didn’t mind, though. In fact it was somewhat humorous, which would explain why Jonghyun was grinning with closed eyes as he caringly wrapped Kibum in his arms, generously sharing his warmth.
Kibum instantly sighed.
“Better?”
“Mm,” was Kibum’s low reply, his nose-exhales blanketing Jonghyun’s collarbones.
Jonghyun selfishly drank in Kibum’s saccharine scent, appreciating the fruity aroma that always loitered on him. There was also a faint hint of cologne and an overwhelming Kibum-ness about the smell that just acted like a drug to Jonghyun; so he pulled the younger closer, burying his nose deep in his hair.
“Now it’s hot,” Kibum complained.
“Too bad,” Jonghyun murmured, lips moving over the crown of Kibum’s head. “I’m comfortable and you smell good, so you’re staying here.”
Kibum grumbled, but ended up snuggling even closer.
All was silent for a while, calming, and Jonghyun was coasting in and out of consciousness, on the peak of sleep when-
“Daddy?”
Jonghyun begrudgingly lifted his head, squinting his eyes to see the silhouette of his son in the doorway. The backlight of the hall distorted his image, but Jonghyun could still see his eyes glimmering in the darkness, his shiny mop of hair reflecting the little amount of radiance in the room. He smiled lazily.
“What is it, kiddo?”
“It’s cold.”
That was enough of an explanation for Jonghyun.
He nudged his already-asleep husband gently, making room between the two of them to allow their child to sandwich between them. Kibum looked irritated, but his face softened when he saw their toddler. He smiled a little, seemingly waking up a little more, shifting to throw an arm around his small frame.
“You cold, sweetheart?” he asked in a soft voice, using that tone that he only got when around his son. Jonghyun stared at his husband tenderly, settling down into the covers. The little boy nodded and shivered, and Jonghyun covered Kibum’s hand with his own, their limbs resting over their son’s side.
Almost immediately, the boy’s breathing evened and his body relaxed. His lids fell closed and Jonghyun smiled dotingly at his chubby cheeks.
He peeked over his son’s head; Kibum was smiling at him.
“Night,” he whispered.
“Night,” Kibum mouthed.
And they fell asleep, just like that.
A/N: yeah. just meaningless, fluffy jongkey. idek.
I'm supposed to be working on other things, but my mind wouldn't focus. most of the things I'm working on are chaptered, though, and idk, I get stressed when it comes to chaptered fics. so I took a little break and wrote whatever the hell this is.
I apologize for the lack of plot. OTL;; and I don't know why they're living in san fran. that place just called to me. XD
I hope you like it anyway. comments are cool.