Château de Versailles (3/?) Part One
Title: Château de Versailles (3/?) Part One
Pairing(s): DooWoon
Rating: PG-13+
Word Count: 6,631
Summary: Yoon Doojoon is a decorated police officer of New York City. Away from work, he is also the spouse of a sweetheart and a doting father of their triplets. He has brought countless criminals to justice, but one will bring him to his knees.
A/N: A third part?
Previous: Château de Versailles (2/?)
(February 17th, 2013, Doojoon’s POV)
I can’t wait to get home.
If I could’ve floored my way back to the parking complex I would have. But I wasn’t driving the cruiser. Guk was, and that was a good thing.
‘Cause my babies came home today. Dongwoon and a team of nurses brought them to the apartment a couple hours after I left for work. I really, really wanted to stay, but the department had other plans for me…
The nurses in the NICU were reluctant and iffy on the possibility of discharging the boys all at once when the time came for them to come home, but over the last two months, they witnessed for themselves the exceptional progress they were making. Their lungs bloomed to healthy sizes, thus they breathed properly on their own. No more did they need any respirational assistance. They began taking bottles to their lips rather than taking their food in their tiny veins. They opened their eyes. They kept their eyes open. They were smiling now and then. They were improving exponentially, and that meant the days standing between them and their new home were shrinking.
And here we are, six months later, February 17th.
And here I am, standing before the door-with all of my arms and all of my legs-with bated breath. I knock, “It’s me, babe.”
“I’m coming,” Dongwoon shouts to me from inside.
The door opens. Dongwoon stands beneath the doorway with one of the babies in his arms, and the breath was literally carried from my lungs. My mouth opens. Not a word is said from Dongwoon, not a word is said from me. My eyes fall onto the yellow bundle coiling against my husband’s chest.
He’s sleepi-no, he’s just waking up. His arms are moving… He’s so tiny… and pink. So much hair. He has so much hair.
“Hey,” Dongwoon greets, stepping forward. We kiss. “Come inside, Doo,” he adds, “It’s freezing out here.”
I’ve been staring for a long time, I guess.
I enter the apartment, blindly fumbling for the knob behind me so I can shut and secure the door without taking my eyes away from the baby. It’s warm inside.
“How was work today?” asks Dongwoon. He’s in the kitchen, now, facing the stove, tending to three bottles full of milk with one free hand. They were grouped in the center of a cooking pot of boiling water. I hear little mumbling…
“Long,” I respond, following like a curious dog. I approach Dongwoon from behind. My hands clip about his hips. I pull him close, staring over his shoulder and down into his arm to our baby boy. My heart stutters as I continue to take in more and more of him. It’s strange looking at him now, with no wires and no tubes. And no incubator, and no plugs or spasmodic lights. He’s all by himself, carried in Dongwoon’s arms.
I kiss the side of Dongwoon’s temple, murmuring, “Can I hold ‘im?”
“Sure you can~ It’s better if you’re sitting down, though,” he says. So then I fly to the couch. I plop down. Dongwoon laughs, traveling there at a leisurely pace. He sits comfortably next to me…
“Alright. Make your arms wide,” he instructs.
He demonstrates, cautious of the baby, and I follow as close as I can to emulate him.
“Is this good enough?” I ask.
Dongwoon squints, “Mmmmmmm… Yeah. That’s fine. I’m going to give him to you, now. You have to be sure that you keep his head supported. And keep him lifted up and close to your chest.”
Dongwoon gives up the little one, settling him into my arms as gingerly and possible. He is so cautious about me even holding one of them, peering at me with a new intensity that I’ve never seen. His eyes are rounder and strikingly attentive. He hovers closely over us.
“You’ve got his head?” Dongwoon hurries.
“I’ve got it, baby. I’ve got ‘im, he’s okay. Now who is this here?” He’s so light.
“That’s Junghwa.”
“Ahhh… the first one.”
Junghwa’s wide awake now. I guess it was the long and shaky transfer that woke him. And my voice. My, his eyes are open. He looks at me as if he’s unsure of who or what I am, then looks over to Dongwoon with his big Woonie eyes, then studies me further again. I shake my arms gently to bounce him a little. He squirms; I hear him make noises. He looks like he’s gonna cry.
I frown, “I don’t think he likes me.”
“Why do you say that, Joon?”
“Look at him.”
“He’s just fixing his face, that’s all, but you’re doing fine, baby. Besides the nurses, you’re the second person that’s ever held him. And he needs to get used to being held. You’ll be alright… Wait here. I’m gonna get the others.”
“They’re all awake?”
“Just about. It’s time for their bottles.”
I came home just in time. “You need some help?”
“I’ll be okay.”
And Dongwoon leaves to go to the nursery. I stay with Jungwha on the couch, pushing comfortably back into the couch’s cushion. Junghwa stiffly stretches his arms, kinda like a cat. It’s cute. He’s still so small to me… A healthy small, but so… small. He doesn’t look like he’s gonna cry again, so that’s good.
I coo for Junghwa, stealing his attention again. He’d been looking away for Dongwoon the moment he left…
“Umma’s comin’ back. Look at appa~”
Junghwa regards me with his eyes. They grow when I repeatedly tap both of his little cheeks. He jabbers back at me, and of course I don’t know what he’s saying, but I assume he likes it since he’s smiling a bit. At least, I think it’s a smile. From the distance, I hear one of the babies hollering. And it creeps closer, and closer, and it gets sharper and more strident. Dongwoon appears calmly with the second one cradled in his arms.
“Here’s Junghee…” Dongwoon announces over this blood-bubbling screaming, “open your arm a little bit more, Joon.”
I spread my arm wider to umma’s liking. Junghee’s settled into the cradle of my left arm. And he is mad.
“Appa’s gotcha. I’m holdin’ him right, aren’t I?”
“You’re fine. He’s just hungry, so he’s a little fussy.”
“A little?” I softly flap the arm with the fighting Junghee cradled in it, pursing my lips to deliver the coos, “Umma’s got your bottle. Just wait.”
Dongwoon lastly brings Jungsu to the room. Everyone’s accounted for; it’s a bittersweet union. Junghee’s crying upsets Junghwa, so Junghwa starts crying. Jungsu’s crying because he hears his brothers crying. They’re all crying, and it’s nothing like I’ve ever heard before…
Dongwoon rounds up all three bottles, finds his seat next to me on the couch, and slips them in between his thighs. One is red, one is yellow, and one is blue. He grasps the blue one for Jungsu, holds him closer, and taps his lips with the clear nipple of the bottle. Jungsu’s silenced. Dongwoon naturally rocks him from side to side; it’s kinda sweet to watch him do so… Jungsu’s looking at Woon wholly; the only time he’s not is when he blinks. He only leaves about a quarter of milk behind. Dongwoon proceeds to burp him, gently plastering him to his upper chest, patting Su’s lower back. He burps three times. He spits up a little, too, but Woon had a towel handy. With that towel’s edge, Dongwoon wipes his small mouth, and then he then lays Jungsu down on his back on top of the quilt he’d spread out on the living room floor prior to my arrival. His eyes are still on Dongwoon.
It’s Junghee’s turn now. He hasn’t let up his angry squealing since he started; my ears no longer plead for mercy. They’ve adapted to the noise, really. They’ll have to, anyway.
Dongwoon scoops Junghee out of my arm, “Okay, okay, now it’s your turn.” He takes the yellow bottle in between his thighs into his hand. Junghee’s mouth snaps around the rubber tip when Woon rubs it around his pink lips. And the bottle’s miraculous. He’s quiet, contently suckling away on his bottle, watery eyes pinned on Dongwoon. Junghwa stops crying, too. Everyone’s quiet now…
“Doojoon. Feed Junghwa his bottle,” Dongwoon orders to me, not taking his eyes from the twitching Junghee.
“O-Oh, alright. Gotcha.”
I take the remaining bottle from in between Dongwoon’s legs. I look down to the last little man spooned in my arm. He looks back to me keenly, patiently, fixing his lips.
“You probably wanna get fed, too, huh?”
I imitate Dongwoon, tentatively tapping the rubber end against Junghwa’s lips. He opens wide for me, and takes to the bottle eagerly. Junghwa raises his arms some, but he’s not yet strong enough to keep them lifted, or to hold his own bottle, no less. It makes me smile, though. He’s trying, at least. And having him acknowledge me is nice… I know I haven’t been around them much while they were in the NICU, but they’ll come to know me as “appa,” better. I’ll be sure of it.
Junghee’s all done; he drank all of his milk. Junghwa drinks most of his. Woon gets all the excess air out of Junghee’s belly by burping him. The burps seem to amuse him, too. He looses a long cry of happy astonishment when he hears them. His eyes become the sizes of the shiniest coins. They match umma’s.
“Is that better? Are you happy now?” Dongwoon coos, bouncing him a little bit on his knee-and Junghee laughs. He settles him down on the quilt, too, adjacent to Jungsu. I place Junghwa next to him after I attempted to burp him. (Woon had to help me a bit.) Now the little Woons are three, full ticks in a row. They ramble to themselves, peering at the two of us, Dongwoon and I. We join them there on the blanket, and we talk to them, and we tickle them, and we sing to them. They laugh softly at us, and they smile at us with an energy I find very precious. It’s amusing to watch their eyes and mouths open when I alter my voice. Jungwha and Jungsu stare in amazement. Junghee just laughs.
……Their Woonie eyes, and Woonie lips, and Woonie noses. I cannot believe that they are home. That they are ours. Mine. It feels strange, yet familiar when their clammy fingers run all over my face. Because it’s real now. They’re really here, and I’m really a father, and they’re really my children.
“They look like mommy,” I comment, rubbing my fingers along Junghee’s stomach. He’s a giggle box.
Dongwoon elicited a genuine chuckle, “The Son genes definitely fought through.”
“They sure did. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m gonna tell ‘em apart…”
“You can’t tell your own children apart?”
Maybe I shouldn’t’ve said that out loud.
“N-Not as easily as you can. You can, can’t you?”
“Of course I can. They’re my babies. But it’s not hard once you learn their personalities. Gathering from what I’ve seen today alone, Junghwa is very, very nosy. He likes to look at everything; he’s always turning his head at every noise. Junghee is simple to figure out. Feed him and show him some attention, and he’s instantly happy. Jungsu’s very clingy… He wants you to drop everything and hold him all day long, but I think he needs the extra warmth because he is the smallest of the three. The nurses told me to keep him well bundled at night… They say he may be somewhat anemic… and I hope that’s not true… He’s one you have to give a little extra attention to. But other than that, they’re all unique, Doo. Once you interact with them a little more, you’ll see…”
Yeah. “Interact” was the key word. I hope that now that they’re here, I will be able to take some time off the job and spend more time at home with Dongwoon and the babies. I’m sure he needs the help. Right now, he’s holding up pretty well… but I don’t want to leave him alone day by day with three infants to care for. But, I can’t afford to not work. Dongwoon’s undoubtedly going to want to be there for the kids around the clock, and we can’t afford a full- or part-time nanny right this moment. He’s been out of work since he had the boys. I don’t anticipate him returning anytime soon. We’ve got rent and bills. We’ve got his parents. And now kids. What to do, what to do…
I package these thoughts and shove them aside. I look down to the boys. They’re quiet, but antsy. Are their eyes supposed to be this shiny? They peer at me with expectation…
“I want to tell them, Doojoon…”
I look up. Dongwoon, appearing downcast, has his eyes fixed solemnly upon an attentive Jungsu. His middle finger is trapped by Su’s tiny hand.
“They have grandchildren now-three-and they don’t even know it. But I’m so… afraid that they’ll disapprove of everything. I know how they are. You know. If they know about us, they’ll refuse to talk to me… and the kids. They’ll turn their backs on us… all of us. And when I think back on it, I was so focused on them not accepting us. Now that we’ve got the boys, I’m worried about them getting rejected if we ever were to introduce them…”
He speaks of his parents. I’ve talked with them over the phone several of times. They know of me, too. They know me as the kind police officer that helped Dongwoon around the city, and the kind police officer that watches over him. They know me as his “friend,” neither as his legal husband nor the father of our three boys. They only call a few times in a month, because it is costly for them to talk to Dongwoon all the way here in New York from Korea. We financially support them, too, when we can. They don’t have a computer either, so that also makes communication difficult. Dongwoon wants to buy them one, but of course, someone would have to teach them how to use it. Anyway, they’re a kind couple… an old-fashioned bunch, and I severely emphasize old-fashioned. I hate to say that I agree with Dongwoon when he says they would disapprove. He’s told me stories of him growing up, his parents giving him shameful, finger-pointing lectures about his tendencies to be attracted to his gender rather than the opposite. Certainly they will disapprove of what we have.
So we keep our relationship, our marriage, and our children a secret from them. But with each new milestone in our lives together, Dongwoon becomes ever the more depressed because he cannot share and freely express his happiness comfortably with the people he loves most… It’s heartbreaking. And I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I want him happy…
“Hey,” I call out in a low whisper.
Dongwoon seeks my gaze. His round eyes are a little wet. I scoot closer, and I take the side of my thumb, and I gently brush his lower eyelids with its side.
“No need to get upset… If you’re not ready, baby, then don’t rush it. I want to tell them just as much as you do, but it’s… it’s gonna take some time. But it won’t always be like this. Maybe one day we’ll tell ‘em, but it’ll be someday. And rest assured: Once they see or hear them, they’ll fall in love. It wouldn’t be in their hearts to turn away from them. Who could? Until that time comes, all we can do right now is take care of and love the little ones we’ve made right here the best we can. Alright?”
That did it: A smile starts to tease its way on my husband’s lips. I think he was getting the picture. The much bigger picture. He worries a lot over this sort of thing, as he well should. I would, too, had my parents been like that. But they weren’t those types of people.
They would’ve loved these boys.
Dongwoon rests his head on my shoulder; he takes my hand. I cup it tightly.
“I don’t regret any of this…” he utters.
“Me neither… Don’t stress. We’re gonna be alright, babe. Everything’s gonna be fine,” I lay my lips against his warm temple, whispering, “I love you,” directly into his head.
Dongwoon looks at me, smiles, and tags my lips with his.
“…I love you, too.”
(A month after the kidnapping, present time. Doojoon’s POV)
Breakfast is just a slice of unbuttered toast. It’s much crispier than how Dongwoon prepares it. And it’s a little burnt, but that’s expected of me. I take a bite, and dry flakes fly and crusts my lips. I chew. It’s really crunchy. I repeat this pathetic cycle until it’s all gone.
And until there’s honking going on outside. Guk’s here. I finish what’s left of the toast, wiping the edges of my lips with the side of my wrist.
I meet him outside, approaching our cruiser. I open the door-bending, ducking-and I place myself inside of the car.
“Mornin’, Joon.”
“Morning.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re late?”
“Yeah, man. I’m like ten minutes late.”
I didn’t notice. I shrug. “S’alright. You’re here now, so… Where’re we at today?”
“Some neighborhood outside Brooklyn. Chief said the squad he had yesterday thought there may have been some suspicious activity goin’ on. Drugs, they said. The officers broke everything up, but they want someone staked out there again today just to make sure nothing gets passed today.”
I bite my lip. After what happened nearly three months ago, I can’t show my face in Brooklyn. Junhyung was a staple, a household name in some areas of that town. Chief knows that. Yet here my ass is.
Guk slaps my shoulder twice. I look at him. He has that crazy smile. That same smile he put on back in our academy days. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Joon. I got you, so they won’t try any funny shit. And it’s just for a couple hours. And hey, maybe we’ll catch something over dispatch.”
I huff. This is unbelievable.
Guk gets the heater going, “We’ll be fine. Coffee first?”
“‘Coffee?’ Shit, I need a drink.”
Guk laughs.
But I’m serious.
We drive out to the Brooklyn borough. Right now we’re laying low around the suspected neighborhood. We’re not exactly welcomed or highly-praised in these parts. The snares from the early-risers on the streets tell us that. We make a routine cruise around the block every ten or so minutes. It’s pretty stale now, but it’s way early in the morning.
Guk’s eating breakfast right now. I bought something for later from the café, ‘cause as of right now, I’m not really hungry. So while he’s distracted with stuffing his face, I’m keeping my eyes peeled on the streets for anything. I try not to let my mind wander away onto other things unrelated to what’s going on around me. But I fail, so sometimes I don’t even try.
I’ve actually been coming up with ways that I could get closer to this Yong-ssi...
“I’ve been thinkin’ about going undercover,” I think aloud.
Guk looks at me funny.
“‘Undercover?’”
“Yeah.”
“Like how?”
“Maybe if I dig deep enough, I can get some information about Junhyung’s spouse and get an I.D., and hopefully a location on this guy, too.”
“So… by undercover you mean…… start dealing drugs for him? ‘Cause that’s definitely where you’re gonna have to start.”
And he is right about that. But… at this point… I’m willing to take any risk.
“Yeah, I know. It’ll be a step closer to finding them, though.”
‘Cause we’ve got nothing now.
Guk’s face contorts in apprehensiveness, “…………IIIII don’t know about that.”
“Whadd’you mean?”
“I don’t feel… comfortable with you doing that. Putting yourself at risk like that. Infiltrating that kind a system isn’t as easy, and you know that. Now if it was someone other than you, then yeah, I’d be all ‘Go for it,’ but you’re my partner, Joon. My bro. An’ you have kids, man, and you’re married. If somethin’ really did happen to you, what would happen to Dongwoon, to the kids, Joon? You’re more useful breathing than you are cold and lying on your back.”
I peer down; much of what he’s saying is very true. Very true.
“It’s been a month, Guk, and I haven’t heard anything from the department. From Newark. From nobody. From no one. It’s like no one cares but me, and I’m losin’ my damn mind. I can’t eat right, I can’t sleep right. It’s crazy. My family is all I have and I have no fucking clue where they are.”
“Hey, Joon. Now you know I care. I do. I’m always looking out for you. Always. I know you’re worried about your family, and I am, too… You’re your own man, Joon. At the end of the day, you’re gonna do what you wanna do. But I’m just telling you, I don’t wanna be in the position where I have to tell Dongwoon what happened to you. And then what’s gonna become of him and your children? That boy’s gonna be alone in the city with four kids. He needs you, Doojoon, and he needs you alive. Have some faith… Things are gonna turn up alright. It’s gonna be okay.”
I just want my babies. I just want my husband.
“His mother called a couple days ago…”
“Oh man… not mom. How was that?”
“I don’t think the news has stretched that far east, so she doesn’t know about Woon missing. She wanted to talk to him. I basically had to tell her that he was away at work. But she talked with me, and I told her how we were doing… It hurt to tell her lie after lie. The first time we talked, I promised her that I would look after her son and make sure he was safe… Look at how effective I was.”
“Hey, hey,” Guk hits me hard, “don’t do that. Listen to me. That Yong-ssi pulled a bitch move. He took Dongwoon and the kids while you were away and out of the house. You think he would’ve tried that shit if you were anywhere around?”
“Che. No.”
“Exactly. So stop beating yourself up for that. It can’t be helped now.”
“True, true. But that still doesn’t solve how I’m gonna deal with his parents. I can’t keep telling them that their son is out and away… And what if they find out through the news somehow? And what if they find out about the boys?”
“They don’t know about the boys still?”
I shake my head… “No. It’d be a fucking disaster if this goes far enough. That’s why I have to find that fucker and end this now.
Next: Château de Versailles (3/?) Part Two
Pairing(s): DooWoon
Rating: PG-13+
Word Count: 6,631
Summary: Yoon Doojoon is a decorated police officer of New York City. Away from work, he is also the spouse of a sweetheart and a doting father of their triplets. He has brought countless criminals to justice, but one will bring him to his knees.
A/N: A third part?
Previous: Château de Versailles (2/?)
(February 17th, 2013, Doojoon’s POV)
I can’t wait to get home.
If I could’ve floored my way back to the parking complex I would have. But I wasn’t driving the cruiser. Guk was, and that was a good thing.
‘Cause my babies came home today. Dongwoon and a team of nurses brought them to the apartment a couple hours after I left for work. I really, really wanted to stay, but the department had other plans for me…
The nurses in the NICU were reluctant and iffy on the possibility of discharging the boys all at once when the time came for them to come home, but over the last two months, they witnessed for themselves the exceptional progress they were making. Their lungs bloomed to healthy sizes, thus they breathed properly on their own. No more did they need any respirational assistance. They began taking bottles to their lips rather than taking their food in their tiny veins. They opened their eyes. They kept their eyes open. They were smiling now and then. They were improving exponentially, and that meant the days standing between them and their new home were shrinking.
And here we are, six months later, February 17th.
And here I am, standing before the door-with all of my arms and all of my legs-with bated breath. I knock, “It’s me, babe.”
“I’m coming,” Dongwoon shouts to me from inside.
The door opens. Dongwoon stands beneath the doorway with one of the babies in his arms, and the breath was literally carried from my lungs. My mouth opens. Not a word is said from Dongwoon, not a word is said from me. My eyes fall onto the yellow bundle coiling against my husband’s chest.
He’s sleepi-no, he’s just waking up. His arms are moving… He’s so tiny… and pink. So much hair. He has so much hair.
“Hey,” Dongwoon greets, stepping forward. We kiss. “Come inside, Doo,” he adds, “It’s freezing out here.”
I’ve been staring for a long time, I guess.
I enter the apartment, blindly fumbling for the knob behind me so I can shut and secure the door without taking my eyes away from the baby. It’s warm inside.
“How was work today?” asks Dongwoon. He’s in the kitchen, now, facing the stove, tending to three bottles full of milk with one free hand. They were grouped in the center of a cooking pot of boiling water. I hear little mumbling…
“Long,” I respond, following like a curious dog. I approach Dongwoon from behind. My hands clip about his hips. I pull him close, staring over his shoulder and down into his arm to our baby boy. My heart stutters as I continue to take in more and more of him. It’s strange looking at him now, with no wires and no tubes. And no incubator, and no plugs or spasmodic lights. He’s all by himself, carried in Dongwoon’s arms.
I kiss the side of Dongwoon’s temple, murmuring, “Can I hold ‘im?”
“Sure you can~ It’s better if you’re sitting down, though,” he says. So then I fly to the couch. I plop down. Dongwoon laughs, traveling there at a leisurely pace. He sits comfortably next to me…
“Alright. Make your arms wide,” he instructs.
He demonstrates, cautious of the baby, and I follow as close as I can to emulate him.
“Is this good enough?” I ask.
Dongwoon squints, “Mmmmmmm… Yeah. That’s fine. I’m going to give him to you, now. You have to be sure that you keep his head supported. And keep him lifted up and close to your chest.”
Dongwoon gives up the little one, settling him into my arms as gingerly and possible. He is so cautious about me even holding one of them, peering at me with a new intensity that I’ve never seen. His eyes are rounder and strikingly attentive. He hovers closely over us.
“You’ve got his head?” Dongwoon hurries.
“I’ve got it, baby. I’ve got ‘im, he’s okay. Now who is this here?” He’s so light.
“That’s Junghwa.”
“Ahhh… the first one.”
Junghwa’s wide awake now. I guess it was the long and shaky transfer that woke him. And my voice. My, his eyes are open. He looks at me as if he’s unsure of who or what I am, then looks over to Dongwoon with his big Woonie eyes, then studies me further again. I shake my arms gently to bounce him a little. He squirms; I hear him make noises. He looks like he’s gonna cry.
I frown, “I don’t think he likes me.”
“Why do you say that, Joon?”
“Look at him.”
“He’s just fixing his face, that’s all, but you’re doing fine, baby. Besides the nurses, you’re the second person that’s ever held him. And he needs to get used to being held. You’ll be alright… Wait here. I’m gonna get the others.”
“They’re all awake?”
“Just about. It’s time for their bottles.”
I came home just in time. “You need some help?”
“I’ll be okay.”
And Dongwoon leaves to go to the nursery. I stay with Jungwha on the couch, pushing comfortably back into the couch’s cushion. Junghwa stiffly stretches his arms, kinda like a cat. It’s cute. He’s still so small to me… A healthy small, but so… small. He doesn’t look like he’s gonna cry again, so that’s good.
I coo for Junghwa, stealing his attention again. He’d been looking away for Dongwoon the moment he left…
“Umma’s comin’ back. Look at appa~”
Junghwa regards me with his eyes. They grow when I repeatedly tap both of his little cheeks. He jabbers back at me, and of course I don’t know what he’s saying, but I assume he likes it since he’s smiling a bit. At least, I think it’s a smile. From the distance, I hear one of the babies hollering. And it creeps closer, and closer, and it gets sharper and more strident. Dongwoon appears calmly with the second one cradled in his arms.
“Here’s Junghee…” Dongwoon announces over this blood-bubbling screaming, “open your arm a little bit more, Joon.”
I spread my arm wider to umma’s liking. Junghee’s settled into the cradle of my left arm. And he is mad.
“Appa’s gotcha. I’m holdin’ him right, aren’t I?”
“You’re fine. He’s just hungry, so he’s a little fussy.”
“A little?” I softly flap the arm with the fighting Junghee cradled in it, pursing my lips to deliver the coos, “Umma’s got your bottle. Just wait.”
Dongwoon lastly brings Jungsu to the room. Everyone’s accounted for; it’s a bittersweet union. Junghee’s crying upsets Junghwa, so Junghwa starts crying. Jungsu’s crying because he hears his brothers crying. They’re all crying, and it’s nothing like I’ve ever heard before…
Dongwoon rounds up all three bottles, finds his seat next to me on the couch, and slips them in between his thighs. One is red, one is yellow, and one is blue. He grasps the blue one for Jungsu, holds him closer, and taps his lips with the clear nipple of the bottle. Jungsu’s silenced. Dongwoon naturally rocks him from side to side; it’s kinda sweet to watch him do so… Jungsu’s looking at Woon wholly; the only time he’s not is when he blinks. He only leaves about a quarter of milk behind. Dongwoon proceeds to burp him, gently plastering him to his upper chest, patting Su’s lower back. He burps three times. He spits up a little, too, but Woon had a towel handy. With that towel’s edge, Dongwoon wipes his small mouth, and then he then lays Jungsu down on his back on top of the quilt he’d spread out on the living room floor prior to my arrival. His eyes are still on Dongwoon.
It’s Junghee’s turn now. He hasn’t let up his angry squealing since he started; my ears no longer plead for mercy. They’ve adapted to the noise, really. They’ll have to, anyway.
Dongwoon scoops Junghee out of my arm, “Okay, okay, now it’s your turn.” He takes the yellow bottle in between his thighs into his hand. Junghee’s mouth snaps around the rubber tip when Woon rubs it around his pink lips. And the bottle’s miraculous. He’s quiet, contently suckling away on his bottle, watery eyes pinned on Dongwoon. Junghwa stops crying, too. Everyone’s quiet now…
“Doojoon. Feed Junghwa his bottle,” Dongwoon orders to me, not taking his eyes from the twitching Junghee.
“O-Oh, alright. Gotcha.”
I take the remaining bottle from in between Dongwoon’s legs. I look down to the last little man spooned in my arm. He looks back to me keenly, patiently, fixing his lips.
“You probably wanna get fed, too, huh?”
I imitate Dongwoon, tentatively tapping the rubber end against Junghwa’s lips. He opens wide for me, and takes to the bottle eagerly. Junghwa raises his arms some, but he’s not yet strong enough to keep them lifted, or to hold his own bottle, no less. It makes me smile, though. He’s trying, at least. And having him acknowledge me is nice… I know I haven’t been around them much while they were in the NICU, but they’ll come to know me as “appa,” better. I’ll be sure of it.
Junghee’s all done; he drank all of his milk. Junghwa drinks most of his. Woon gets all the excess air out of Junghee’s belly by burping him. The burps seem to amuse him, too. He looses a long cry of happy astonishment when he hears them. His eyes become the sizes of the shiniest coins. They match umma’s.
“Is that better? Are you happy now?” Dongwoon coos, bouncing him a little bit on his knee-and Junghee laughs. He settles him down on the quilt, too, adjacent to Jungsu. I place Junghwa next to him after I attempted to burp him. (Woon had to help me a bit.) Now the little Woons are three, full ticks in a row. They ramble to themselves, peering at the two of us, Dongwoon and I. We join them there on the blanket, and we talk to them, and we tickle them, and we sing to them. They laugh softly at us, and they smile at us with an energy I find very precious. It’s amusing to watch their eyes and mouths open when I alter my voice. Jungwha and Jungsu stare in amazement. Junghee just laughs.
……Their Woonie eyes, and Woonie lips, and Woonie noses. I cannot believe that they are home. That they are ours. Mine. It feels strange, yet familiar when their clammy fingers run all over my face. Because it’s real now. They’re really here, and I’m really a father, and they’re really my children.
“They look like mommy,” I comment, rubbing my fingers along Junghee’s stomach. He’s a giggle box.
Dongwoon elicited a genuine chuckle, “The Son genes definitely fought through.”
“They sure did. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m gonna tell ‘em apart…”
“You can’t tell your own children apart?”
Maybe I shouldn’t’ve said that out loud.
“N-Not as easily as you can. You can, can’t you?”
“Of course I can. They’re my babies. But it’s not hard once you learn their personalities. Gathering from what I’ve seen today alone, Junghwa is very, very nosy. He likes to look at everything; he’s always turning his head at every noise. Junghee is simple to figure out. Feed him and show him some attention, and he’s instantly happy. Jungsu’s very clingy… He wants you to drop everything and hold him all day long, but I think he needs the extra warmth because he is the smallest of the three. The nurses told me to keep him well bundled at night… They say he may be somewhat anemic… and I hope that’s not true… He’s one you have to give a little extra attention to. But other than that, they’re all unique, Doo. Once you interact with them a little more, you’ll see…”
Yeah. “Interact” was the key word. I hope that now that they’re here, I will be able to take some time off the job and spend more time at home with Dongwoon and the babies. I’m sure he needs the help. Right now, he’s holding up pretty well… but I don’t want to leave him alone day by day with three infants to care for. But, I can’t afford to not work. Dongwoon’s undoubtedly going to want to be there for the kids around the clock, and we can’t afford a full- or part-time nanny right this moment. He’s been out of work since he had the boys. I don’t anticipate him returning anytime soon. We’ve got rent and bills. We’ve got his parents. And now kids. What to do, what to do…
I package these thoughts and shove them aside. I look down to the boys. They’re quiet, but antsy. Are their eyes supposed to be this shiny? They peer at me with expectation…
“I want to tell them, Doojoon…”
I look up. Dongwoon, appearing downcast, has his eyes fixed solemnly upon an attentive Jungsu. His middle finger is trapped by Su’s tiny hand.
“They have grandchildren now-three-and they don’t even know it. But I’m so… afraid that they’ll disapprove of everything. I know how they are. You know. If they know about us, they’ll refuse to talk to me… and the kids. They’ll turn their backs on us… all of us. And when I think back on it, I was so focused on them not accepting us. Now that we’ve got the boys, I’m worried about them getting rejected if we ever were to introduce them…”
He speaks of his parents. I’ve talked with them over the phone several of times. They know of me, too. They know me as the kind police officer that helped Dongwoon around the city, and the kind police officer that watches over him. They know me as his “friend,” neither as his legal husband nor the father of our three boys. They only call a few times in a month, because it is costly for them to talk to Dongwoon all the way here in New York from Korea. We financially support them, too, when we can. They don’t have a computer either, so that also makes communication difficult. Dongwoon wants to buy them one, but of course, someone would have to teach them how to use it. Anyway, they’re a kind couple… an old-fashioned bunch, and I severely emphasize old-fashioned. I hate to say that I agree with Dongwoon when he says they would disapprove. He’s told me stories of him growing up, his parents giving him shameful, finger-pointing lectures about his tendencies to be attracted to his gender rather than the opposite. Certainly they will disapprove of what we have.
So we keep our relationship, our marriage, and our children a secret from them. But with each new milestone in our lives together, Dongwoon becomes ever the more depressed because he cannot share and freely express his happiness comfortably with the people he loves most… It’s heartbreaking. And I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I want him happy…
“Hey,” I call out in a low whisper.
Dongwoon seeks my gaze. His round eyes are a little wet. I scoot closer, and I take the side of my thumb, and I gently brush his lower eyelids with its side.
“No need to get upset… If you’re not ready, baby, then don’t rush it. I want to tell them just as much as you do, but it’s… it’s gonna take some time. But it won’t always be like this. Maybe one day we’ll tell ‘em, but it’ll be someday. And rest assured: Once they see or hear them, they’ll fall in love. It wouldn’t be in their hearts to turn away from them. Who could? Until that time comes, all we can do right now is take care of and love the little ones we’ve made right here the best we can. Alright?”
That did it: A smile starts to tease its way on my husband’s lips. I think he was getting the picture. The much bigger picture. He worries a lot over this sort of thing, as he well should. I would, too, had my parents been like that. But they weren’t those types of people.
They would’ve loved these boys.
Dongwoon rests his head on my shoulder; he takes my hand. I cup it tightly.
“I don’t regret any of this…” he utters.
“Me neither… Don’t stress. We’re gonna be alright, babe. Everything’s gonna be fine,” I lay my lips against his warm temple, whispering, “I love you,” directly into his head.
Dongwoon looks at me, smiles, and tags my lips with his.
“…I love you, too.”
(A month after the kidnapping, present time. Doojoon’s POV)
Breakfast is just a slice of unbuttered toast. It’s much crispier than how Dongwoon prepares it. And it’s a little burnt, but that’s expected of me. I take a bite, and dry flakes fly and crusts my lips. I chew. It’s really crunchy. I repeat this pathetic cycle until it’s all gone.
And until there’s honking going on outside. Guk’s here. I finish what’s left of the toast, wiping the edges of my lips with the side of my wrist.
I meet him outside, approaching our cruiser. I open the door-bending, ducking-and I place myself inside of the car.
“Mornin’, Joon.”
“Morning.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re late?”
“Yeah, man. I’m like ten minutes late.”
I didn’t notice. I shrug. “S’alright. You’re here now, so… Where’re we at today?”
“Some neighborhood outside Brooklyn. Chief said the squad he had yesterday thought there may have been some suspicious activity goin’ on. Drugs, they said. The officers broke everything up, but they want someone staked out there again today just to make sure nothing gets passed today.”
I bite my lip. After what happened nearly three months ago, I can’t show my face in Brooklyn. Junhyung was a staple, a household name in some areas of that town. Chief knows that. Yet here my ass is.
Guk slaps my shoulder twice. I look at him. He has that crazy smile. That same smile he put on back in our academy days. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Joon. I got you, so they won’t try any funny shit. And it’s just for a couple hours. And hey, maybe we’ll catch something over dispatch.”
I huff. This is unbelievable.
Guk gets the heater going, “We’ll be fine. Coffee first?”
“‘Coffee?’ Shit, I need a drink.”
Guk laughs.
But I’m serious.
We drive out to the Brooklyn borough. Right now we’re laying low around the suspected neighborhood. We’re not exactly welcomed or highly-praised in these parts. The snares from the early-risers on the streets tell us that. We make a routine cruise around the block every ten or so minutes. It’s pretty stale now, but it’s way early in the morning.
Guk’s eating breakfast right now. I bought something for later from the café, ‘cause as of right now, I’m not really hungry. So while he’s distracted with stuffing his face, I’m keeping my eyes peeled on the streets for anything. I try not to let my mind wander away onto other things unrelated to what’s going on around me. But I fail, so sometimes I don’t even try.
I’ve actually been coming up with ways that I could get closer to this Yong-ssi...
“I’ve been thinkin’ about going undercover,” I think aloud.
Guk looks at me funny.
“‘Undercover?’”
“Yeah.”
“Like how?”
“Maybe if I dig deep enough, I can get some information about Junhyung’s spouse and get an I.D., and hopefully a location on this guy, too.”
“So… by undercover you mean…… start dealing drugs for him? ‘Cause that’s definitely where you’re gonna have to start.”
And he is right about that. But… at this point… I’m willing to take any risk.
“Yeah, I know. It’ll be a step closer to finding them, though.”
‘Cause we’ve got nothing now.
Guk’s face contorts in apprehensiveness, “…………IIIII don’t know about that.”
“Whadd’you mean?”
“I don’t feel… comfortable with you doing that. Putting yourself at risk like that. Infiltrating that kind a system isn’t as easy, and you know that. Now if it was someone other than you, then yeah, I’d be all ‘Go for it,’ but you’re my partner, Joon. My bro. An’ you have kids, man, and you’re married. If somethin’ really did happen to you, what would happen to Dongwoon, to the kids, Joon? You’re more useful breathing than you are cold and lying on your back.”
I peer down; much of what he’s saying is very true. Very true.
“It’s been a month, Guk, and I haven’t heard anything from the department. From Newark. From nobody. From no one. It’s like no one cares but me, and I’m losin’ my damn mind. I can’t eat right, I can’t sleep right. It’s crazy. My family is all I have and I have no fucking clue where they are.”
“Hey, Joon. Now you know I care. I do. I’m always looking out for you. Always. I know you’re worried about your family, and I am, too… You’re your own man, Joon. At the end of the day, you’re gonna do what you wanna do. But I’m just telling you, I don’t wanna be in the position where I have to tell Dongwoon what happened to you. And then what’s gonna become of him and your children? That boy’s gonna be alone in the city with four kids. He needs you, Doojoon, and he needs you alive. Have some faith… Things are gonna turn up alright. It’s gonna be okay.”
I just want my babies. I just want my husband.
“His mother called a couple days ago…”
“Oh man… not mom. How was that?”
“I don’t think the news has stretched that far east, so she doesn’t know about Woon missing. She wanted to talk to him. I basically had to tell her that he was away at work. But she talked with me, and I told her how we were doing… It hurt to tell her lie after lie. The first time we talked, I promised her that I would look after her son and make sure he was safe… Look at how effective I was.”
“Hey, hey,” Guk hits me hard, “don’t do that. Listen to me. That Yong-ssi pulled a bitch move. He took Dongwoon and the kids while you were away and out of the house. You think he would’ve tried that shit if you were anywhere around?”
“Che. No.”
“Exactly. So stop beating yourself up for that. It can’t be helped now.”
“True, true. But that still doesn’t solve how I’m gonna deal with his parents. I can’t keep telling them that their son is out and away… And what if they find out through the news somehow? And what if they find out about the boys?”
“They don’t know about the boys still?”
I shake my head… “No. It’d be a fucking disaster if this goes far enough. That’s why I have to find that fucker and end this now.
Next: Château de Versailles (3/?) Part Two