under the light of a thousand stars [ii/ii]

[uponinfinity]

one //

v.

‘Careful,’
‘Sehun - necks are really fragile when they’re new - ’
‘You might wanna - support his body with your other arm, you know, just in - ’
‘Can I take your watch off? I mean - just, you know, safety first and all - ’

‘Will you guys quit,’ hisses Sehun, sending glares at both Kyungsoo and Jongin. ‘My cousins started having kids when I was less than half your ages, I know how to hold your precious son, alright,’

‘Okay,’ says Jongin, rather meekly. He gathers his hands in his lap, starts fiddling with his fingers as he watches his best friend get acquainted with his new son.

‘Hey little guy, it’s great to meet you. I’m Uncle Sehun.’

Jongin shifts his focus from his best friend and the baby, eyes landing straight on Kyungsoo instead. The elder stands at the doorway to the living room of their new house, arms crossed over his chest, lips pulled tight. His eyes are trained on Sehun, and Jongin feels his worries flicker out.

It’s been a long and tiring process, he thinks, getting their son into their lives. There was a dispute with the first adoption agency they tried - they’d been put on the waiting list for almost a whole year and a half with no word of progress before they decided that something wasn’t right, and Jongin remembers all too clearly the angry phone call he had to make to the man who was put in charge of his case. Phrases like married couples have a better chance and the child needs to go to a stable home were thrown at him like hot coals to a fire, only fuelling him further and making him even more agitated.

It was hard on Kyungsoo, too. The elder began buying books not only on parenting, but on how to keep a relationship stable without marriage. There were nights when Jongin couldn’t fall asleep because Kyungsoo wasn’t in bed with him, was too busy flipping through his latest self-help purchase in the armchair in their bedroom, worrying himself into the dawn. Jongin couldn’t count the amount of times he’d dragged his boyfriend to bed - told him that they didn’t need all of that, they were going to be fine.

There were days when Jongin found himself doubting his own words, though. There were days when Kyungsoo felt the need to reach out, take Jongin’s hand and remind him that he intended to be in it for life - that he wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon. What they had was titanium - nothing would break them apart.

Now, with his new family laid out in front of him - Jongin smiles. Every last minute of it was worth it.

‘Hey, Soo - what’s the kid’s name again?’ asks Sehun, jerking Jongin from his thoughts. The latter’s chest puffs up a little, indignance building in his chest - his best friend, not knowing his son’s name! - and Kyungsoo’s shoulders go slack.

‘I can’t believe this - Taeoh. Okay? We named him Taeoh,’ snaps Kyungsoo, darting forward to take his son into his arms, the glare he has trained on Sehun enough to make the younger grimace.

‘Sorry,’ mutters Sehun. ‘He’s a cute kid, though. Kind of looks like this guy, even though - you know, I don’t see how that’s possible.’ He motions towards Jongin, startles the indignance away.

‘Thanks,’ mutters Jongin, not without grudge. He gets up, makes his way over to Kyungsoo and Taeoh, looks at his son’s face over his partner’s shoulder. ‘He’s perfect.’

‘A baby,’ mutters Sehun, his tone laced with disbelief. ‘I can’t believe you guys have a baby now,’ he says.

‘Crazy, huh?’ says Jongin, and even though he’s almost 35, even though he’s come a long way from his first few days trying to make it on his own - none of that has prepared him for the feeling that swells in his gut now, for the swirl of emotions that he feels when he looks at his son.

‘I’m going to put him in the crib,’ mutters Kyungsoo, smiling serenely at both Jongin and Sehun before he turns, and leaves.

‘I’d better get going too,’ says Sehun, getting up. ‘I have a meeting I’m supposed to go to tomorrow, and I haven’t read squat for it yet.’

Jongin raises his eyebrows. ‘Really now? Have you been neglecting your responsibilities, young man?’ he says mockingly, earning a light punch on the arm from his friend.

‘Shut up, alright.’

They share a laugh that trails into silence, and Jongin breaks it, clears his throat. ‘Actually,’ he says, looking Sehun square in the eye - ‘I have something I want to ask you.’

‘What is it?’ asks Sehun, his own eyebrows raised.

‘Well - Kyungsoo and I were wondering if, you know, there might be a chance that you’d… Want to be Taeoh’s godfather?’ Jongin asks, winces a little when Sehun’s expression changes. ‘I mean - we’re not going to force you into it, of course, it’s just a question, if you don’t want to I’m sure we could ask - ’

Surprise cuts Jongin off. Sehun has his arms wrapped around Jongin, a strong hold that the latter can’t help but return. It’s been a while since they’ve hugged, but Jongin can tell that there’s a difference - the way Sehun hugs him now isn’t anything like the drunken hugs they used to exchange back in college, nothing like the brief hugs of greeting they’d taken to giving each other once they graduated.

This hug was one of love, and of appreciation, and Jongin grins because he knows what this means.

‘Don’t need to get all sappy on me,’ Jongin remarks once the pull away, the grin still cemented across his features. There’s one on Sehun’s face, too, and the sight of it makes his hear grow warm.

‘I’d love to,’ says Sehun, ignoring his friend’s last remark. ‘I - Thanks. For wanting to make me a part of… All this.’

‘Hey, you’ll always be family to me,’ says Jongin, his tone light but his words strong. He clamps a hand on Sehun’s shoulder, shakes it a little. ‘This is just one way of making it official.’

‘Guess I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future,’ jokes Sehun. A thought seems to come to him just as the last words leave his mouth. ‘Hey - speaking of official, when are you going to ask Kyungsoo to marry you? I mean - you are going to ask him, right?’

‘Marriage isn’t what defines the permanence of a relationship, Sehun,’ says Jongin, putting his hands in his pockets. ‘Kyungsoo and I are in a loving, committed relationship. We don’t need a piece of paper to confirm all of that, when what’s important is that we know it to be true.’

‘Cut the crap, Kim,’ Sehun deadpans. ‘You’ve been wanting to marry him since before I can even remember, and if I know you - which I do - I know that that hasn’t changed. It’s been, like, fifteen or sixteen years. How much longer are you going to make me wait for an excuse to buy a new suit?’

Jongin laughs, fixes his best friend with a look of fondness. There’s no use lying to Sehun - the younger has learned to see right past that.

‘I made him a promise,’ says Jongin, eyes adopting a faraway look as his laugh diminishes into a smile. ‘And I’m not even sure he remembers it anymore.’

‘But you’ve talked about it? And you’re definitely going to ask him?’

‘You’ll just have to wait and see, my friend,’ says Jongin, leading Sehun to the front door. ‘Wait and see.’

‘I hate you.’

vi.

Silence temporarily cloaks Jongin and Kyungsoo’s home, relief floating in the undertones when the only sounds that can be heard are the sounds of their heating going, and the sounds of their own breathing.

Time enough to think has fast become a depleting commodity in their household, and they’re both thankful that their one year old has finally gotten himself to sleep. Raising Taeoh has been one hurdle after another, Jongin thinks - first there was the nights when he could barely sleep for all the hungry, heartbreaking wails his son would let out in the middle of the night, and then there was the constant anxiety when Taeoh first started crawling. Now, with their son learning to communicate with them using almost-words and becoming eager to learn to walk on unsteady legs - well, let’s just say Jongin and Kyungsoo both had to have one eye on their son at all times.

It’s tough, they won’t deny - but they could also never forget how good it felt when they saw their son’s first smile, heard his first laugh, were there to hear him say his first word. Nothing felt more rewarding to them than when they’d first heard him call them dada - nothing had ever warmed their hearts as much as that did. Every last worry was worth it, to watch their son grow.

‘Where did you put his clean bottles?’ asks Kyungsoo irritably, popping his head into his and Jongin’s room to shoot the question at his boyfriend. ‘I can’t find any, and I want to pack everything tonight ready for tomorrow’s picnic.’

But there were also times like this, when every last thing bit at their patience, and it was far too easy for them to go off at each other. Jongin bristles, doesn’t move from where he’s just flopped himself down in the middle of their bed.

‘In the sink,’ he says, his words muffled by the comforter he’s currently burying his face in. There’s nothing quite like the feel of a bed after a long day’s work.

‘What do you mean, in the sink? I told you to wash them this afternoon!’ says Kyungsoo, voice getting increasingly more agitated. ‘We’re going out early tomorrow, I don’t want to be rushing when we could just as easily get things done tonight!’

‘Okay, don’t rush then!’ says Jongin, agitation crawling up his voice as well. ‘Leave it alone, come to bed - let me handle it when I wake up.’

‘That’s not the point, Jongin!’ snaps Kyungsoo, glaring at his partner. ‘The point is I asked you to get this done hours ago and for our son, and you just went ahead and ignored me!’

Jongin lets out a loud groan, pushes himself off the bed and stomps off toward the door. He passes by Kyungsoo but doesn’t give the elder a second glance, which only serves to rile him up even more. ‘Are you ignoring me? Are you actually being a child right now and ignoring me?’

‘That’s what got you to lecture me in the first place, might as well keep up with it,’ mutters Jongin, purposely just loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear. The latter puts his hands on his hips, glares Jongin down.

‘What?’ he shrills, loud enough that the sound carries, and it doesn’t take long for them to hear a loud cry coming from their son’s room, one that’s angry and high, and Kyungsoo throws Jongin a dirty look before he heads off to comfort their son. ‘Look at what you’ve done now,’ he spits, turning to stomp off.

‘You mean what you did,’ retorts Jongin childishly. He’s aware that he’s being unfair, but dissatisfaction makes him head to the kitchen to get whatever he needed done done, has him scrubbing a little more vigorously than he should at his son’s milk bottles.

He knows. He knows Kyungsoo is tired, he knows the elder understands that he’s tired. But he also knows that this is exactly what they’d signed up for - this tag team wrestling match that didn’t really allow for any breaks, that went on for longer than just a few minutes, that drained them and then revived them again in such quick succession that sometimes it left them reeling. Doing this, with Kyungsoo - this was what he’d asked for, what he’d wanted, and right now… Right now, he realises, he isn’t being very fair to the man he loves.

He sighs as he wipes the bottles one by one, gets them ready for Kyungsoo to pack away for the next day. He shuffles back up the stairs and into his son’s room, presses his lips together when he sees his boyfriend circling the room tiredly, a half-asleep baby in his arms.

Jongin doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. Instead he goes up to Kyungsoo, wraps his arms around the elder’s waist and holds him, buries his face in the side of Kyungsoo’s neck that isn’t being taken up by their son’s lolling head. He inhales deeply and takes in how differently Kyungsoo smells now - he still smelled of Kyungsoo, yes, the same shower gel scent still lingered on his skin, but he also smelled of milk, baby powder, maybe a little baby lotion here and there. The way Kyungsoo smells now reminds Jongin of all the things they’ve been through together, how much they’ve changed and how much they’ve grown, and he feels ashamed.

They aren’t the same Jongin and Kyungsoo they were ten years ago, in fact, couldn’t afford to be. He needed to learn that.

‘It’s okay,’ murmurs Kyungsoo, turning to peck Jongin on the lips. ‘I know.’

And then there Kyungsoo goes with words like that, reminding Jongin of how lucky he is, how he’d never been able to fit with someone as well as he does with Kyungsoo, even now, even in this moment between discord and peace.

They were made for each other, yes, but that didn’t mean that all their rough edges were made to be pushed together.

Still, Jongin supposes, he could try a little harder.

‘I love you,’ mutters Jongin, kissing Kyungsoo’s lips as gently as he possibly can. It’s a kiss that says I’m sorry, it’s a kiss that promises to work harder. Kyungsoo nods, as if understanding everything Jongin can’t really put into words.

‘I love you too.’

vii.

‘Do you think maybe we put off the whole having a kid thing a little too long?’ asks Jongin, slumping back into the sofa in his and Kyungsoo’s house. It’s a Sunday afternoon, which means it’s family time - which means that five-year-old Taeoh is all over the place, scrambling up his parents’ legs, blissfully unaware of how his fathers’ forty-year-old bones creak every time he jumps them.

‘Yes!’ hollers Taeoh, leaping from Kyungsoo’s lap over to Jongin’s. ‘King Taeoh!’ he yells, plastic sword in his hand as he playfully bats at his father, jabs Jongin in the side. Jongin surrenders, feigns death and lets his body go limp.

‘Victory!’ shouts Taeoh, at the very top of his lungs, and once his guard is down Jongin snatches at him, tackles his son into the sofa and lays his head on the child’s chest, effectively squashing him and holding him down at the same time.

‘Soo?’

‘Should’ve probably thought about it sooner,’ Kyungsoo concedes, sighing as he pushes Jongin off their son, pulls the child in his lap, facing him. ‘Don’t you think that’s enough playtime for now?’ he asks, somewhat pleadingly.

Taeoh folds his arms, shakes his head hard enough that his hair bounces. ‘King Taeoh never rests!’ he declares, throwing his arms up over his head as he scrambles off his father’s lap, goes to retrieve his weapon.

Kyungsoo sighs, Jongin scoots his body forward to lay his head on his partner’s lap. ‘Is it bedtime yet?’ he whines, burying his face in the fabric of Kyungsoo’s pants. ‘I’m tired.’

‘We can put him down for a nap in a bit,’ says Kyungsoo, hands going to Jongin’s hair, carding his fingers through it. The action catches Jongin’s attention, has him turning his head, peeking up at the elder. A small, serene smile graces Kyungsoo’s lips, and Jongin can’t help but return it.

It fades the moment something heavy throws itself down on his back, though.

‘Oof,’ Jongin grunts, wincing as gravity pulls the full weight of his son onto his back. He can’t tell what’s going on, really, other than the fact that Taeoh seemed to think he was a dragon, now, one in sore need of a slaying by a certain king. ‘Help me,’ he pleads, pouting as Kyungsoo laughs at him.

‘I think that’s enough for now, big fella,’ says Kyungsoo, reaching out to ruffle his son’s hair. ‘Your dragon is tired, I think he needs a break.’ He aims a wink at his son, who winks back, and scrambles off his father’s back. ‘Do you think you’re ready for a nap now?’ he tries, his bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as his son seems to ponder his offer.

‘Okay,’ says Taeoh finally, reaching his arms up to be carried to bed. Kyungsoo is glad to oblige, doesn’t make a single sound of discomfort even when Taeoh jumps into his arms. He takes his son upstairs, tucks him in, kisses him on the forehead before going back downstairs to find Jongin.

‘Snuggle me,’ says Jongin, his voice quirked up so he (thinks he) sounds cute, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes before he complies. Jongin lies along the length of his sofa, and Kyungsoo settles himself on top of him. His head lands right in the middle of Jongin’s chest, just how he likes it. He can feel Jongin’s heartbeats, this way.

‘You’re more of a baby than our baby is,’ grumbles Kyungsoo. He pushes his head up, props his chin on Jongin’s chest to get a view of his partner’s face. He shuffles upwards a little, props the rest of his body on his elbows and traces Jongin’s features with his fingers. The curve of his lip, the dip of his nose - the way his smile makes the rest of his features seem like they’re dancing in light. Kyungsoo can’t help but smile back.

‘What are you staring at?’ asks Jongin, the tease clear in his voice. ‘Has my beauty overwhelmed you?’

‘He really does look like you, you know,’ mutters Kyungsoo softly. He dips down and pecks Jongin gently on his lips, keeps them touching even when the kiss is over. ‘Which is completely unfair, by the way. But I’m grateful.’

A soft frown creases Jongin’s brow. ‘Grateful? Why?’ he asks. One of his hands comes up to Kyungsoo’s face, and he caresses his partner’s cheek with a kind of gentle care that leaves the elder breathless.

‘Because that means he’s beautiful, and he’s going to grow up beautiful,’ murmurs Kyungsoo, leaning in for another kiss. ‘He has the same nose as you, eyes as you - sometimes I can’t tell if I’m falling more in love with him everyday because he reminds me of you or if it’s the other way round.’

‘Probably the other way around,’ says Jongin, pulling Kyungsoo in for a real kiss. It’s rare, instances like this - where they can talk, and they can touch, and they can kiss and just generally be in love without being interrupted.

It’s a struggle they’ve been facing ever since Taeoh came into their lives, but it’s the kind of fight they’re more than willing to face head on.

As long as it’s with each other.

‘We have a beautiful son,’ murmurs Jongin, gently pushing his body up, allowing Kyungsoo time to get off him. Once he does, Jongin stands up, holds his hand out for the elder to take. Kyungsoo smiles, lays his hand in Jongin’s.

‘We do,’ he agrees. Jongin begins gently tugging on his hand and Kyungsoo lets him, feet trailing in the wake of Jongin’s own.

‘A beautiful family,’ says Jongin, making his way up the stairs. Kyungsoo’s confused, that much is true, but he’s amused, too. Jongin pushes the door to Taeoh’s room open, his heart beating from his chest all the way to the tips of his fingers as he pulls Kyungsoo in behind him, silently pads into the room to stand by his son’s bedside.

‘Yeah,’ says Kyungsoo, resting his head on Jongin’s shoulder. Taeoh is sound asleep, his hair already beginning to stick up in certain places, his sheets half-kicked off his body. He properly links his hands with Jongin’s, this time, and smiles when the younger’s fingers curl around his own.

‘A beautiful prospect of forever in front of us, don’t you think?’ asks Jongin. He’s looking at Kyungsoo by now, mesmerised by the way his partner looks at their son with eyes so full of love that Jongin thinks that if he were to drown in them - maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind.

‘Mm,’ Kyungsoo hums, turning to look at Jongin.

‘So is that a yes?’

Kyungsoo’s back stiffens. He moves back a little, frowns at Jongin. ‘A yes to what?’ he asks, eyeing his boyfriend suspiciously.

‘Well - um. Come here,’ says Jongin, leading Kyungsoo to the little loveseat they’d put in Taeoh’s room, the one that used to sit in the living room before it was replaced, and they couldn’t find a place for it in the house anymore. He sits and pulls Kyungsoo down next to him, hands surprisingly steady as he takes both of the elder’s in his own.

‘When - when we were in college, remember, you asked me to make it big when I proposed to you. Do you remember?’ Jongin asks, speaking slowly so every word sinks into Kyungsoo’s mind.

The latter nods, still eyeing Jongin suspiciously.

‘And to make it special, right? You wanted me to make it special?’

Another nod, another slow, deep intake of breath. Kyungsoo’s expression grows steadily less suspicious and more confused, and Jongin worries his bottom lip a little as he tries to find the right words.

‘Well - well. Um. What do you say?’

Kyungsoo’s jaw drops open. ‘What -what do I say? Are you - are you proposing to me right now?’ asks Kyungsoo, his tone incredulous.

Now this - this part, Jongin knew how to handle. He’d had the words stashed away in his brain for this exact reaction, and it doesn’t take him long to pull them out. ‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘Kyungsoo - moving in with you, buying a house with you, starting a family with you, raising our son - it… It’s been twenty years since I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m not - I’m not proposing to you right now, Kyungsoo. I’ve been proposing to you all this time.’

He’s done it. He’s said it, laid his whole heart out to Kyungsoo and it feels liberating, feels wonderful and incredibly terrifying all at once. Because if there’s something Jongin’s learned through all his years with this man, this revolution in his arms - it’s that nothing scares him more than the idea of losing him, than the thought of having to go a single day without Kyungsoo by his side.

He can face anything, anything but that.

‘Soo?’ he prods, gently squeezing Kyungsoo’s hands. ‘What do you say?’

Kyungsoo hangs his head, hides his expression from Jongin. He lets the silence between them condense over the next few seconds before he lifts his head up again, looks Jongin in the eye.

His mouth breaks out into a grin.

‘Yes.’

viii.

‘Please repeat the mission objective to me, soldier.’
‘Get the rings to Daddy and Papa safely.’
‘Right. How?’
‘Walk in front of Daddy, slowly slowly really slowly towards Papa, and when you say so, hand over the rings.’
‘Good job, soldier.’
‘Thank you, Uncle Sehun!’

Sehun gives his godson a little salute, smiles when Taeoh returns it rather crookedly. The day he’d been waiting for has finally arrived - a decade or so later than he thought it would, and with people (well, a person - namely, Taeoh) present that he never would have dreamed of a few years ago, but hey - it was finally the big day.

Jongin and Kyungsoo were getting married.

Finally.

‘Go and find Daddy, I have to go settle the gifts your dads are getting,’ says Sehun, pushing Taeoh in the direction of Jongin’s room. The area outside the hotel ballroom was absolutely crawling with people, and Sehun bustles off somewhere and leaves Taeoh by himself. The boy rushes up to the door he’d seen his father disappear through a couple of hours prior, doesn’t bother with knocking and barges right in.

‘Daddy!’ he wails, as loud as his throat will let him. ‘Daddy, Taeoh’s here!’ he calls, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Jongin lets out a little chuckle, beckons his son over to him.

‘Hey there, little man,’ he says, patting his son’s head gently. He can tell that a lot of work had gone into getting Taeoh’s hair in shape, and he doesn’t want to inadvertently incur the wrath of some frazzled hairstylist on his wedding day. His eyes fall on the clunky object in his son’s pocket, and he smiles. ‘What do you have there?’

‘Rings!’ says Taeoh proudly, fishing one out of the boxes Sehun had given him to show to his father. ‘See, Daddy - Uncle Sehun says you’re gonna put this on Papa, and it’s really really really important, so I can’t lose it.’ He finishes off with a solemn tone to his voice, and the smile on Jongin’s face widens.

‘You are his best trooper, after all,’ remarks Jongin fondly. There’s a bustle of activity around him and then suddenly he’s being tugged none too gently to the doors, Taeoh following close behind him. It’s about to start! Jongin mouths at his son, and Taeoh grins, dimples digging cutely into his skin.

He gives his father a thumbs up, and Jongin gives him one in return.

Nerves begin to pile up at Jongin’s feet the moment he stands himself behind the closed grand entrance doors, and by the time the wood is pushed open he’s almost drowning in them, buried up to his neck in his own worries. The ballroom is filled with people he’s met at some point or other in his life - friends from college, colleagues from his first job, the people working under him in his department now - they’re all there, smiling at him, and he expects the nerves he’d collected to follow him down the aisle, but…

But before he can think about any of that, his son sets off in front of him, smiling proudly at his family and friends. Taeoh walks with a clumsy carefulness that incites laughter - his steps are slow but his strides are unstable and large, and he’s long forgotten about Jongin. His father is left in the dust, and Jongin’s unease is pushed away bit by bit, disappearing with every step Taeoh takes.

He laughs to himself, joins in with the crowd as he follows behind Taeoh, grinning when his son reaches his boyfriend - his partner, his fiancé, his Kyungsoo - and wraps his arms around his legs, hugging his father for a brief moment before letting go and standing neatly to the side.

Jongin’s seen Kyungsoo in suits before. He’s seen him in black ones, brown ones, grey ones - even a brightly coloured green one, but nothing, nothing could have prepared him for how he’d feel looking at Kyungsoo in his wedding suit. Pure white shirt and tie in stark contrast with the inky black of his blazer and pants, hair slicked back, the greys around his temples just slightly visible.

He looked beautiful, and Jongin couldn’t fight down the grin that betrayed exactly what he thought when it finally bloomed across his lips.

‘Don’t say it,’ mouths Kyungsoo, but Jongin ignores him.

‘You look beautiful,’ he whispers, revelling in the blush that spreads across his husband-to-be’s cheeks.

This is it.

Words are said, vows exchanged.

The crowd laughs when Kyungsoo muses about how they’ve had their fair share of adventures already, but it’d be great to have more with a ring finally on his finger. Kyungsoo tears up when Jongin tells him it’s been one heck of a proposal, but he doesn’t intend on stopping once they’re married. He intends instead, he says, to keep asking Kyungsoo to spend forever with him, from this lifetime into the next, and to make every moment worthwhile.

Taeoh totters up to them with his hands stretched far above his head when Sehun cues him, offers his fathers their rings and grins at them when they’ve been put on. The crowd cheers as they kiss, Taeoh hopping up and down excitedly by their side, and whoops when they pick their son up, plant kisses on each of his cheeks at once.

Through the fanfare, through the commotion - Kyungsoo stares Jongin right in the eye, catches his husband’s gaze and holds it, holds it as though moments were tangible and this, here - this was one of his most precious moments, was a scene he’d commit to memory and never let go of.

Jongin leans in, grazes his lips against Kyungsoo’s ear as he whispers. ‘Big enough for you?’ he asks, the smile loud and clear in his voice.

‘I look forward to forever with you,’ says Kyungsoo, leaning in to press his lips against his husband’s.

Jongin grins.

‘Me, too.’

Author's note: I really don't know lol I just wanted to put up the next Project Multiply fic before I turn 21 and it's still technically my birthday so it's all good right
right
right
no
ok

Editing to say tat this is my third Project Multiply fic, and the masterlist of that can be found here. So if you like Ed Sheeran and you like //me// then you know where to go!!!

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