Breakfast For Two
Pairing: Seungyoon/Mino
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,960
Summary: Seungyoon goes through the motions, missing someone immensely.
Note: 3rd fic for the SongKang 100-minute challenge!
Everyday begins the same way: Seungyoon wakes up to sunlight seeping through the windows and a half-empty bed, right side cold and bare, untouched since Seungyoon shut his eyes the night prior. Then he stares at it as he clutches the blanket to his chin, longer than he should, longer each time.
He makes breakfast for two: the perfect sunny side up egg and two large sausages, a tad charred on the outside, just the way he likes them. He pops in two pieces of bread on the toaster and opens the rightmost cabinet where he keeps the chocolate cereal in a glass jar. Not the most ideal of breakfasts, but it’s Friday and he promised Fridays are cheat days, on the condition that he eats his vegetables the rest of the week without complaining.
Seungyoon is sitting on the kitchen counter, one sausage halfway-eaten when the door cracks open. He smiles because his little boy doesn’t need waking up anymore, not since he bought him that Ironman alarm clock a few months ago. Seungyoon watches his tiny fingers rub his eyes which light up when he spots the big blue bowl waiting for him on the table. Seungyoon raises the carton of milk and gives it a playful jiggle. Yeojun beams.
“It’s Friday,” Yeojun says in a tiny, cracked voice.
“It’s Friday,” Seungyoon nods and leaps from the counter to give Yeojun his morning hug, then pours some milk on the bowl while Yeojun excitedly takes his seat. The little one is already digging in when Seungyoon sits across from him and takes a bite of his toast.
Seungyoon’s eyes never leave his son for every spoonful. He doesn’t stop smiling either. It’s true what they say: parents feel full just by watching their child eat. After a while, Yeojun looks up and tells him about the school family camping trip next month, the same one he’d been talking about all week. He never misses an opportunity to remind his dad, and Seungyoon listens intently anyway and promises to go. He tells Yeojun he’ll buy the biggest, best tent he could find so he can be the envy of all his classmates. Pleased, Yeojun grins and lifts his bowl to sip all the milk left.
Seungyoon wonders when Yeojun had stopped asking for more than him.
Yeojun insists on bathing by himself since he’s a big boy now. Seungyoon agrees and walks back to his room to take a quick shower, looks through his side of the closet for what to wear. Seungyoon is never picky and usually grabs the first thing he sees, but today he can’t seem to decide. Until he moves further to the right and pulls out a grey jacket far too big for him. He puts it on anyway. It smells like his aftershave and Seungyoon feels a little better. Like he’s wearing a hug.
Yeojun clutches Seungyoon’s hand tightly as they cross the street. He raises a fist with the other arm, like his dad had taught him on the first day of school. Seungyoon remembers that morning all too well - they had both been there to send him off. Yeojun wouldn’t let go of any of their hands, wailing while tears streamed down his face.
It wasn’t even a minute into Yeojun’s fit and there was someone else crying, saying he couldn’t let go of Yeojun, too.
Seungyoon had no idea what to do with two crying boys so he laughed instead. They must have been a hilarious sight for all the other parents. Soon enough, a teacher helped persuade Yeojun to come inside, and Seungyoon was left to hug the other one until he stopped. Seungyoon had never seen anyone above seven years old reduced to tears in front of a kindergarten before. He loved him more for it.
Seungyoon yells goodbye to Yeojun who doesn’t look back and runs into the gates of the school like he can’t wait to be with his friends. He really is growing up before Seungyoon’s eyes - it’s scary, thrilling and ultimately, unstoppable. Perhaps in a few years Yeojun will find new things more interesting. He’ll pull away in increments, gravitate towards people his age. Eventually, he’ll outgrow Friday cereals and Ironman. Seungyoon will cease to be his hero.
The thing is, years aren’t much. One minute Yeojun is walking for the first time, the next, he’s learning to eat with chopsticks. It’s funny how time is actually the most important thing and it’s the one that can’t be bought with all the money they try to earn. Time runs fast and steady, but oftentimes, they could never catch up. And they can’t turn it back to moments they’ve missed - moments that should have mattered.
As Seungyoon watches Yeojun share a laugh with a classmate as they go up the steps, he wishes he could be here to see this, too.
He comes back to an empty apartment, washes the dishes and fixes Yeojun’s bed before he steps into his office.
It isn’t so much a studio as it is a former laundry room transformed into a private space where Seungyoon could work on his music. He used to work somewhere five times bigger, making more than decent pay as a songwriter and producer. He supposes the best part about his job is he can still write songs from home. It’s not without some pitfalls, however.
Eight years ago, it was a choice between a large, fully-furbished company studio or Yeojun. Seungyoon didn’t even agonize over his decision.
A few hours of incomplete piano melodies and cluttered chords later, his head begins to ache from a song that would not finish itself. He’d been commissioned to work on a track for a debuting boy group, which truthfully are a dime-a-dozen these days, but still, he takes pride in his work. And while not every song is a hit, he would never produce anything he doesn’t believe is quality music just for a pay check.
He gives up around noon and ambles back to bed, nursing a mild headache. Maybe a nap would do him good, and perhaps he would dream of the perfect song like Paul McCartney did.
“Did you know that Yesterday by The Beatles was originally called Scrambled Eggs?”
“Really?” Seungyoon tries to sound surprised. He knows of course. Seungyoon just wants to see his eyes light up as he tries to explain something Seungyoon had known since he was a child. Maybe if Seungyoon pretends he hasn’t heard half of his stories, he would finally ask him out on a date.
“Really! Paul McCartney composed it in a dream, woke up and couldn’t think of the perfect lyric. So he just called it Scrambled Eggs.”
“That’s brilliant,” Seungyoon struggles not to grin at the proud look on his face, thinking he’d just given Seungyoon a legit British rock music trivia. He really is the most adorable man Seungyoon has ever met. “Although honestly, I’m more of a sunny side up guy.”
Mino smirks. “Noted. In case we end up having breakfast in the near future.”
“You’ll have to sleep over for that to happen,” Seungyoon says casually as he looks down at his guitar, hiding a smile.
He doesn’t know how long he slept when he feels an arm draped over his stomach. He stirs and turns around to find Mino with tired lines on his face. He looks exhausted but he isn’t asleep. He’s just looking at Seungyoon with eyes that are about to close any minute. Seungyoon immediately reaches for his cheek. Somewhere in the room is a duffel bag with a week’s worth of clothes. This time, Mino had travelled back from Singapore.
“When did you come in?”
“Late,” Mino replies, guilt lacing his tone. “I didn’t get to see Yeojun again.”
“He understands,” Seungyoon says quietly, unsure. Yeojun used to ask Seungyoon why dad is never home, but lately he hasn’t. It shouldn’t mean anything, but Seungyoon keeps it from Mino anyway. The last thing he wants is for Mino to get hurt.
Mino sighs and inches closer, tucking his head under Seungyoon’s chin and burrowing his face in his chest. Seungyoon doesn’t hesitate to pull him, wrapping his arms around him, hands comfortingly stroking his back. It feels good to have him home. Always.
Truthfully, Seungyoon would like to get mad. He wants to complain that he feels like he’s raising Yeojun alone. But he can never bring himself to be angry knowing that Mino will always be angrier with himself. And if Mino had a choice, he’d always be around. Seungyoon can never fault him for taking care of his family the best way he knows how.
They both had to make tough choices to make this work. Seungyoon gave up bigger career opportunities. This is what Mino gave up for more financial stability.
“I miss you,” Mino whispers, his breath hot on Seungyoon’s skin. “I’m sorry.”
Seungyoon just hums until he feels shoulders trembling and his shirt becoming damp. He’s married to a crybaby. It’s one of the many endearing traits Yeojun got from his dad. Seungyoon can’t help but smile when he embraces him tighter.
“My big baby,” he teases and Mino muffles a sob. “Do you want some chocolate cereal?”
Mino looks up from Seungyoon’s chest, eyes swollen and lips in a pout. He nods.
Seungyoon watches Mino eat, cheeks propped on both hands. It’s amazing how much Yeojun looks like him. It’s like he could see their son’s future in front of his eyes. And a large part of Seungyoon wishes that despite spending more time with him, Yeojun becomes the man Mino is.
Today begins differently. Seungyoon wakes up to a body pressed to his side. He turns around and finds Yeojun curled up beside him. On the other side of the bed is Mino, already awake and smiling. Seungyoon frowns.
“You’re home?”
“I quit,” Mino tells him. “There’s another offer. It’s less pay but I’d be stationed in Seoul with regular hours. I took it.”
Seungyoon thinks this should be a discussion, but he gets distracted when Yeojun moves and snuggles closer to Mino. Mino lifts a hand to pat Yeojun’s head, grinning from ear to ear. Suddenly, the bed feels warm and full and Seungyoon’s heart is about to burst out of his chest. There will never be a better sight to wake up to other than his two boys. How can Seungyoon ever want anything else.
Seungyoon smiles as he carefully climbs out of bed so as not to wake Yeojun. “I’ll make breakfast,” he mouths at Mino.
“I want-“
“Scrambled eggs,” Seungyoon supplies, rolling his eyes. “I know, babe.”
Seungyoon makes breakfast for three and they laugh as they eat when Mino does his best impression of a dinosaur. Seungyoon doesn’t feel the need to wear Mino’s clothes anymore.
Mino, on the other hand, almost cries when Yeojun turns back to wave at him when they drop him off.
“He never does that with me anymore,” Seungyoon complains as they walk back to the car.
Mino comforts him with a kiss that lasts longer than it should, judging by the car aggressively honking at them to take their parking spot.
When they come home to an empty apartment, Seungyoon gasps when Mino pulls him into the couch to continue what the irate driver had interrupted. Seungyoon forgets about work and gets lost in Mino’s lips.
“So I heard about a camping trip,” Mino pulls away long enough to ask.
Seungyoon smiles. “I’ll call the school and tell them we’re both going.”
Mino nods, satisfied, and pushes up to give Seungyoon another peck.
Time is a tricky thing, but for now, they have all the time for this.