on kindergartens and friends
the inspiration fairy came to visit
pairing: onho
Minho doesn’t want to go to kindergarten.
He stares at his breakfast with sad eyes and messy hair and undresses himself as soon as Jinki has managed to get him into his pants and shirt. He hides under the kitchen table for ten minutes until the older boy finally finds him and puts up a fight when Jinki forces him to brush his teeth.
When the struggling and sulking fail he switches tactics.
“Can I come to your office today?” Minho’s voice is muffled because Jinki is pulling a sweater over his head for the second time that morning but the older can still hear the hopefulness in his voice. “I’ll be really quiet. I promise.”
Minho’s eyes come into view and Jinki’s heart almost breaks because the kid has picked up the sad puppy look from somewhere and he’s working it.
“No. You have to go to kindergarten.”
“But I want to go with you.” Minho’s tiny fingers hold on to the front of Jinki’s sweater as he lifts one leg, allowing Jinki to slip on one of the socks he pulled off earlier.
“The office is for grown-ups. You have to go to the kindergarten. You’ll friends will miss you if you don’t go.” There is a short silence and the older slips on the seconds sock before he looks up at the child in front of him.
Minho looks like he’s ready to cry; his lower lip is quivering and his large eyes are moist and downcast.
“But I don’t have friends.” His voice is tiny; barely audible and he’s about three seconds away from having tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.
The older boy is stunned into silence. He’s seen Minho play with the other kids as he picks him up in the afternoons, playing soccer or building sandcastles and what not.
“But what about Jonghyun? Or Taemin? And Kibum? You play with them.”
The small boy mumbles something incoherent and Jinki has to ask him to repeat.
“Kibum said I look like a frog. And then he pushed me.” There is a sniffle and Minho buries his tiny head against Jinki’s fluffy sweater. They’re going to miss the bus and Jinki will be late for work but he let’s the boy cry, gently stroking his fluffy, uncombed hair.
a/n: i know it's short but i have a couple of more of these waiting in my documents