Chapter Text
“Minjun, have you brushed your teeth ?!”
Wonwoo's voice travels down the corridor before his footsteps follow, rather calm for the fresh 8 am of a new day but retaining in the tone the quiet authority of someone who has asked that question at least three times already. When he appears in the bathroom doorway, with one hand resting on the frame, he finds exactly what he expected. His son is standing on the little stool with his toothbrush in hand, staring at the blue shark-shaped handle as if willing it to move on its own.
Minjun doesn’t even flinch at his dad’s scolding, “I’m about to wash them” he replies with his little lips pursed and the solemn confidence of a child who believes intention counts as action.
Wonwoo exhales slowly through his nose. It isn’t an angry sigh — never that for his kids — but a very controlled one he has perfected over the years. His scent is delicate at this time of morning, rice milk and a faint hint of apple peel, enveloping his little boy with the gentle sweetness of an Omega encouraging his pup to just be good and obey.
“If you’re about to, it means you’re not washing them” Wonwoo says evenly, “Brush them properly. Top and bottom. And hurry up or you’ll be late for school”
Minjun opens his mouth to complain but then thinks better of it once his dad leans down to kiss his little head. He turns on the tap and squeezes far too much paste into his toothbrush before putting it in his mouth, while in the living room, Sunwoo, the other twin, sits cross-legged on the carpet with his backpack already strapped on and a battlefield of forgotten toys all around him.
He is playing with plastic bricks while he waits for his brother to be ready, two toy cars are flipped upside down and a picture book is splayed open on the floor. Wonwoo remembers the past night the twins had promised very seriously that they would tidy everything up before going to bed but it’s clearly by now that it had been just a collective lie.
That little apartment, in the pale light of that early morning, seems less messy but certainly lived-in with drawings taped to the fridge and a chalkboard marking the puppies' schedule for the day. A crumpled blanket lies on the couch, probably used as a cloak during some heroic last stand. On the kitchen table, the remnants of the breakfast lingers in evidence with two mugs with a thin layer of cold cocoa stubbornly stuck to the bottom, a spoon left at a crooked angled and cookie crumbs on a napkin that hadn't been cleared yet.
In the sink, Wonwoo’s coffee cup joins the children’s. He notices it but there's no time for him to wash it. He steps into the kitchen and picks up exactly the task he left off; Minjun's bento box is open on the counter and its contents arranged with such obsessive care. Rice shaped neatly, small omelette rolls well-lined up and perfectly portioned baby carrots. Only the fruit is missing.
Wonwoo cuts an apple without looking at the blade at all and the slices fall into the container one after the other, followed by a handful of pre-washed grapes. He closes the lid, snaps it shut and slips the bento into his son’s backpack, checking the side pockets to make sure everything was in order.
“The water bottle is here” he murmurs, “Pencil case… wet wipes —“
“Appa” Sunwoo suddenly calls him. He’s still sitting on the carpet, legs tucked neatly beneath him and his fingers carefully pushing two plastic bricks together. “I have PE class with Mr. Xu today”
Wonwoo nods, already aware of that. “I know, sweetheart. I put your uniform in your backpack”
Sunwoo hums, considering. “Did I wear the right shoes, though ?”
Wonwoo tucks Minjun’s bag aside and turns just enough to looks up fully at Sunwoo. His brow is furrowed in intense concentration, his lips pressed into a thin line, almost comically serious for someone so small and so thoroughly surrounded by chaos of plastic dinosaurs. His little boy has always been like this. Sweet and thoughtful, methodical in a way that mirrors Wonwoo himself, the complete opposite of his twin’s boundless and impulsive energy.
Wonwoo’s gaze drifts down to his feet, to the small white shoes with red straps fastened just right. “Yes” he smiles softly, “You’re wearing the right ones”
Sunwoo’s shoulders instantly relax, satisfied by his answer, and his milky and honeyed scent drifts through the air in a way that wraps around Wonwoo’s chest and settles there, easing something he hadn’t realized was tight.
A moment later, Minjun barrels out of the corridor at full speed with his cheeks puffed and toothpaste foam still clinging to the corner of his mouth. “I’m done!” he announces, arms thrown wide like he has just completed a great quest and his hair sticked up in three different directions.
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, unimpressed but fond. “Rinse your face. Now” he says, tilting his head back toward the bathroom.
Minjun opens his mouth to protest — probably something involving “it’s a new style, Appa!” or “It’s cooler like this!” — when the doorbell rings calming for a moment that usual morning chaos.
Wonwoo can’t help but notice the way his heart uncomfortably skips a beat. It’s brief, barely perceptible, but his body has always reacted to that presence before his mind even formulates a proper thought. His scent shifts despite his control, the warmth his omega was preserving for his babies suddenly sharpening into something more alert.
“Dad is here!” Sunwoo declares happily standing up from the carpet.
Wonwoo walks toward the door and when he opens it, Mingyu stands right there on the threshold.
He's wearing his beloved leather jacket, a bit risky for the winter weather outside, and his sunglasses are pushed up into his hair. On his well-rested face, the hint of that easy smirk always feels a little out of place compared to Wonwoo's tidy mornings. His Alpha presence fills the space effortlessly, his unmistakable scent of warm cinnamon and something softer underneath, like sun-dried orange, already wafting through the whole apartment.
“Good morning” Mingyu says, his grin widening as his eyes flick briefly over Wonwoo, then past him into the house. “I hope I’m early this time. Or at least… not late enough to get that look”
Wonwoo doesn’t rise to the tease. “You’re on time” he replies, stepping aside just enough to let him inside.
“Daddy!” Minjun launches himself forward, Sunwoo is right behind him, and Mingyu barely has time to brace before both boys crash into him.
“Here they are, my champions!” he laughs scooping them both up with ease, their giggles ringing through the entryway “Did you miss me ?”
“So, so, so much!” Minjun shouts, stretching his arms as wide as they might properly measure it. “Like— this much! But Appa was worried you were running late —”
“— and you might not have been able to drive us to school” Sunwoo adds, clinging affectionately to Mingyu’s jacket.
Mingyu winces, “Ouch boys, do you trust me this little ?”
With his arms folded across his chest, Wonwoo watches Mingyu giggling with the children from a short distance. There’s a flicker of annoyance on his face at how easily the Alpha slides into their space, how naturally the little boys orbit around him, considering him exactly as the leader of the pack to follow. He lets the feeling linger for half a heartbeat before forcing himself to breathe it away.
He steps forward and hands over the backpacks, the straps adjusted just the way the boys like.
“Sunwoo has ballet class today” Wonwoo says flatly. “His leotard is in the front pocket, the extra hair ties in the small zipper. And Minjun —“
“—has after-school at two and speech therapy at five” Mingyu finishes easily, “I know”
Wonwoo’s lips press together. He knows Mingyu knows, still, the words need to be said. “They need to be back before dinner so they can… bathe and finish their homework”
Mingyu bends down to ruffle Sunwoo’s hair, who has latched onto his leg like a koala. “I know that too” he nods, “They’ll be home at six sharp and no sugar rushes for them. I promise”
Wonwoo meets his gaze for a brief second, weighing that promise like he has done a hundred times before. He looks for cracks, for overconfidence, for the careless charm that sometimes slips into forgetfulness.
Then he nods once. “Good” he says simply.
Mingyu’s smile softens just a little. “Do you need anything else ? I can stop by the grocery store on my way back if you want”
“Appa can we have pizza tonight, please ?” Minjun pipes up immediately, eyes lighting with hope.
“Maybe another day, sweetheart” Wonwoo says gently, already shaking his head. Then, turning back to Mingyu, “No, thank you. We’re fine”
“Okay then” Mingyu nods, clapping his hands once even though there’s a shadow of disappointment on his face. “Shall we go, kids ? A new day at school is waiting for us!”
“Yes!” Sunwoo exclaims instantly, already wiggling out of his grip.
“Hey you two —” Wonwoo calls out mock-offended just as they make for the door. “Aren’t you even giving Appa a kiss ?”
Both the twins turn and they sprint back toward him, nearly knocking him off balance as they crash into his arms. Wonwoo laughs softly, bending down to hold them tight. “Have a good day, my pups” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads, “Be good, okay ?”
They nod in unison and Mingyu helps them into their coats, tugging zippers up and fixing sleeves. Minjun turns back one last time, waving enthusiastically. “Bye, Papa! I love you!”
“I love you more” Wonwoo replies, his voice warm as he watches them stepping outside.
The door closes softly behind them, and the house, that constant hubbub of chaos, returns to a silence Wonwoo was no longer used to. He takes a deep breath and begins picking up toys from the floor, placing them in the basket next to the couch, while its omega’s scent envelops the space in little sour adding a hint of nostalgia to his mood.
Sometimes Wonwoo has to remind himself that it wasn't always like this between him and Mingyu, measured exchanges at the door and their kids schedules recited like commandments. There was a time when the Alpha had been his safe place in the whole world rather than a variable to be managed, and loving him was just as natural as breathing.
They had been young back then. Too young, everyone said. An Alpha and an Omega in college, living off shared notes, late-night ramen and the intoxicating certainty that love could make anything work. They had loved each other madly, without caution at all. Mingyu’s laughter had filled every cramped apartment they shared, and Wonwoo had let himself be held without fear, his omega warm and open, trusting in a future that felt endless by his side.
The twins hadn’t been an accident. They had been wanted with a longing that surprised even Wonwoo himself. The pregnancy carried on between exams and internships, their little faces dreamed of in sweet whispers at night, while he lay in bed cuddled up to Mingyu, imagining their tiny hands and their matching smiles. And when they finally arrived, though, now six years ago, so real and impossibly small, something inside him cracked and Wonwoo’s inner omega changed first.
The world suddenly closed in around him all at once.
Doctors with attentive yet paternalistic smiles as soon as they see them without a mating mark on their necks, families around them with expectations sharpened by tradition, warnings disguised as advice. An Omega with twins. An Omega so young with actual two kids to take care of. The pressure was relentless and it settled deep in his chest, tightening until instinct hardened into pure control. His omega became hyper-rational and fiercely protective, every scent and sound filtered through the singular imperative to keep his pups safe.
Perfection became survival and Wonwoo found himself planning everything with almost military precision.
Feeding schedules, sleep rotations, pediatrician appointments logged weeks in advance. Nothing was left to chance as improvisation could only be a threat, and in that rigid structure, there was little room left for Mingyu, the same Mingyu who wanted to sprawl on the floor with the babies, who trusted instinct over manuals and believed only love could fill in the gaps where preparation failed.
Slowly, almost without realizing it, Wonwoo began to push him away.
He questioned his choices, corrected his timing, rewrote his efforts until Mingyu’s confidence started erode piece by piece. Wonwoo told himself that someone between them had to be responsible, that the twins didn’t allow room for error. He convinced himself that being a good father for the pups meant more than just laughter and play, it meant also vigilance and sacrifice.
To Mingyu, it felt like being completely erased from his life.
He went from being his partner to his liability, from father to an afterthought, treated less like an equal and more like a third child who needed supervision. Nothing he did was ever enough for Wonwoo. And the more he tried, the more inadequate he felt, until resentment settled where tenderness used to live and the separation happened in a completely inevitable way.
They told themselves it was for the best. For the children.
And yet.
The passion that had bound them never completely faded. The attraction between their wolves persisted, so sharp and dangerous, woven into the muscle memory of their bodies, into their scents mingling into something unique and sweet. There were moments when a touch of hands was enough to undo Wonwoo's careful defenses, moments when his omega softened and sought the safety of Mingyu's arms, the same warmth he had once offered him so easily.
Those nights always ended the same way. With sex that tasted of love, of closeness intertwined with surrender and regret. They clung to each other as if nothing had broken, as if love hadn't already failed them once. And then, they dressed in silence when it was all over, rebuilding their walls and promising each time that it would never happen again.
Those same promises, like so many other things between them, were easier to make than to keep.
They had tried, more than once, to find their way back to each other. Each attempt began with cautious hope and ended stalled against a barrier neither of them quite knew how to dismantle. The love was still there, undeniable, but it no longer flowed freely. It pressed up against old wounds, against habits carved by fear and disappointment. Wonwoo could feel it every time they stood too close, every time familiarity brushed against restraint and stopped short.
What never faltered, not even once, was Mingyu’s role as a father.
Through all the tension and the half-healed fractures between them, Mingyu remained steady for his kids. Always punctual. Always present. He showed up to every school play, every parent meeting, every small forgettable weekday milestone that somehow mattered enormously to two growing children. He knelt at their level, listened as if nothing else in the world could possibly be more important, laughed loudly and without embarrassment.
He never treated fatherhood like a duty. It was simply something innate.
And that constancy unsettled Wonwoo more than he ever admitted.
Wonwoo had built his version of parenthood like a fortress, layer upon layer of self-sacrifice. He had told himself that love was something to be proven daily, earned through diligence. That as an Omega, especially a young one with twins, he had to be more nurturing, more flawless than anyone else. That rest was indulgent and that affection, even from his own pups, was something fragile that could be lost if he faltered.
Mingyu shattered that illusion without even trying.
The twins adored him with an ease that felt almost cruel in its simplicity. They ran to him without hesitation, trusted him instinctively, loved him without any types of condition. They never doubted for his affection and watching that, Wonwoo felt something inside him ache, not jealousy exactly, but a quiet grief for the version of himself who couldn’t quite believe that love could be so freely given.
To Mingyu, it seemed effortless. To Wonwoo, it felt like proof of his own inadequacy.
He loved his children fiercely, with a devotion that bordered on self-erasure. Yet some part of him always feared that if he stopped being perfect, if he loosened his grip even slightly, everything might unravel. Mingyu, with his open arms and unguarded heart, stood in stark contrast to that fear. He was living evidence that love didn’t have to be earned through all that exhaustion.
And that truth lingered between them, complicating everything Wonwoo thought he understood about parenthood and about himself at all.
“It’s for the kids” he tells himself every single day, a white lie polished by repetition.
They give purpose to his exhaustion, justify the tight control he keeps over his emotions, allow him to keep moving without ever having to stop and examine what he’s pushed aside. As long as everything he does can be traced back to them, he doesn’t have to ask himself harder questions. He doesn’t have to wonder what he has lost or what he still wants.
Wonwoo puts away the last toy and straightens up, glancing around the place once more before checks the watch on his wrist. He still has some time before his shift at Moonbean coffee-shop begins, so he grabs his bag, slips on his shoes and locks the door behind him to start that very new bright day.
Chan had offered him the job back when everything was still raw, when the separation was new and Wonwoo’s world felt like it was constantly threatening to cave in. He knows everything about his family condition. He knows about Mingyu, about the twins, about the impossible balancing act Wonwoo performs every day. And, as soon as the hiring was agreed, the flexible hours were offered without hesitation and judgment.
“Take time when you need it”
“Leave early if the boys are sick”
“Stay home if you have to”
Wonwoo hates it.
Not his boss-friend’s kindness, but the idea of owing it, of being seen as someone who needs allowances. So Wonwoo tries to compensate by arriving early and making that shop shine brighter than a mirror, by covering extra shifts whenever he can. Moonbean is the place where he feels unequivocally competent and his value is measured in efficiency instead of parental perfection.
No one there looks at him and thinks of him as “omega parent” first.
Here, he’s just Wonwoo, the reliable barista who never forgets an order.
Wonwoo indeed parks his car just outside the shop and takes a deep breath before pushing the door open, causing the bells to chime softly above his head. The familiar warmth of the café washes over him immediately with the smell of roasted coffee beans, hot milk and sugar all mixed together. It lifts him up like few other places and behind the counter, Lee Chan looks up from the machine and smiles broadly as soon as he spots him.
“Good morning, Wonwoo” he greets him, already in the rhythm of preparing a cappuccino.
“Good morning, Chan” Wonwoo replies, shrugging his bag off his shoulder. “I’ll get changed and be right there helping you with the orders”
“Take your time” Chan says without even glancing up. “You’re early anyway. Did you just drop the rascals off at school ?”
Wonwoo relaxes as he slips into the back room, pulling on his apron and tying it around his waist with quick movements that speak of long habit. “No, Mingyu picked them up” he answers as he returns, “But at least there was no mess today. They had breakfast and somehow didn’t spill cocoa all over the floor”
Chan laughs softly, setting the cup down for a waiting customer. “That’s a victory worth celebrating”
“I guess so” Wonwoo lets out a quiet huff of a laugh in response and steps behind the counter to wash his hands and fall seamlessly into the rhythm of his shift.
“By the way —” Chan gestures toward the counter, nodding toward a small package wrapped in pink paper and tied with a neat bow. “I wrapped up some treats for them. Don't forget to take it home as soon as you're finished later”
Wonwoo follows his gaze and drops off his shoulders, “Chan, you shouldn’t have —” he protests immediately.
“Oh, don’t start!” he cuts in, “Please, they’re just cookies. I made extra anyway and they have sprinkles on the icing. I’m sure the kids will love them”
Wonwoo opens his mouth, then closes it again. He isn’t quite sure what to say to that kind of uncomplicated kindness, it catches him off guard every time. “…Thank you” he bows slightly, sincerity settling into his voice as he looks at the package again.
Chan is still smiling to himself as he turns back toward the espresso machine when the door jingles again, bells chiming brightly to announce a new arrival whose scent reaches them first. White chocolate and raspberry curls through the warm air of the café and Wonwoo looks up just in time to see Jeonghan stumble inside, sunglasses crooked on his nose, coat half-buttoned and hair only loosely tamed. He makes it three steps in before dramatically collapsing against the counter as if his bones have collectively decided to give up.
“Save me” he groans, cheek pressed to the wood. “I need a coffee so strong and violent it can resurrect me from the dead”
Chan snorts, already reaching for a cup. “Triple espresso ?”
“Make it a quadruple” Jeonghan says weakly. “I want to feel my soul leave my body”
Wonwoo can’t help the quiet chuckle that slips out of him as he moves to the register. “Hard day already ? Or was your Pilates class more tiring than usual ?”
“No Pilates this morning” Jeonghan lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “I meant to go. I truly did. But then Jiah decided, at eleven thirty at night yesterday, that she absolutely needed to be a fairy by morning”
“A fairy” Chan repeats as he grinds the beans.
“You heard me. A fairy” Jeonghan confirms, pushing himself upright “With glittery purple wings and apparently store-bought ones were unacceptable because ‘they don’t sparkle enough’ so I had to improvise something with tulle, wire and glue. So much glue, oh god”
Wonwoo leans his elbows lightly on the counter, watching him with fond amusement. Jeonghan’s scarf has slipped just enough to reveal the dark unmistakable mark at the side of his neck, his mate’s claim, worn proudly and without any attempt to hide it. It stands out against his pale skin, evidence of a life that is sanctioned by the deepest love.
“Let me guess” Wonwoo says with a grin, “You spent the rest of the night sweeping glitter out of the living room”
Jeonghan groans again, dropping his forehead onto the counter again. “All night, Wonwoo, I swear it’s everywhere. My hair, my clothes. I think it’s bonded to the floor. I’m going to be finding sparkles until Jiah goes to college”
Chan slides the cup under the machine, “You did this to yourself”
“For love” Jeonghan replies lifting a finger. “And because she looked at me with those big round eyes. You know which ones”
“Oh I can get an idea” Wonwoo nods, of course he does know.
“Do your twins also have these sudden strokes of creative genius ? Like… midnight revelations and last-minute costume demands ?”
“Not yet” Wonwoo huffs a quiet laugh. “The worst they leave behind are building blocks and toy cars. Occasionally dinosaur plushies in the hallway”
“You’re so lucky” Jeonghan clicks his tongue, “Your boys are angels”
Wonwoo smiles at those words as nothing makes his omega more content than his own children, his greatest pride. He watches Chan hand Jeonghan his coffee and for a moment the café feels especially full of warmth, of their friendship, of the kind of chaos that comes from loving and being loved back. Jeonghan wraps both hands around the cup, inhaling deeply as if the steam alone might fix his life. He takes a careful sip, eyes closing in exaggerated bliss, then slumps back against the counter again.
“I am absolutely not ready to face today” he declares. “I have multiple meetings, back-to-back, with people who don’t shut up for a second” he shudders, “What I need is a vacation on a mountain peak with no phone signal and no responsibilities. Just me, a blanket and the feeling of being unconsciousness for at least forty-eight hours”
Chan snorts from the espresso machine. “I’m sure you’d get bored in ten minutes”
“That’s optimistic” Jeonghan replies, “I’d get bored in five but at least I’d be bored horizontally”
Wonwoo shakes his head, moving to stack clean cups, letting the easy banter wash over him. Jeonghan’s presence always fills a room with his dramatic personality, it’s almost impossible to ignore. He glances over just in time to see Jeonghan’s expression shift, something sly and curious slipping into his smile.
“By the way…” he chants, indeed. “I saw your boyfriend at school this morning when I dropped Jiah off”
Wonwoo stills for half a second, then resumes placing cups on the shelf with slightly more force than necessary.
“He looked quite nice” Jeonghan continues innocently. “If not extremely gorgeous. Seungcheol will forgive me for these comments, I’m sure of that. He was literally glowing —” he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand, “— how's it going between you two ?”
“First of all” Wonwoo says, not looking at him, “Mingyu is not my boyfriend”
“Bad choice of words, pardon. Fuckbuddy, then”
“He is not even my fuckbuddy”
“You had sex with him not even a month ago!” Jeonghan’s eyebrows shoot up.
“I was in heat and it was a mistake” Wonwoo snaps back, cheeks warming despite himself, “Thank you for reminding me!”
“Look at you being so defensive…” Jeonghan smirks, having way too much fun in the teasing. “Is it so hard for you to admit you’re still attracted to the father of your children ?”
“I’ve never denied my attraction to Mingyu” Wonwoo replies, voice more controlled now. “It’s just that… things don’t work between us. We have completely different ways of raising the kids and we get along perfectly fine as long as we don’t actually spend time together”
Jeonghan hums, clearly unconvinced. “Does this rule apply to bedroom time as well ?”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts. “It won’t happen again”
“Whatever makes you sleep at night”
Chan, who has been pretending very hard not to listen, finally turns around, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Okay but seriously —” he says calmly, stepping into the conversation. “What’s actually stopping you from trying again with Mingyu ?”
Wonwoo hesitates, fingers tightening briefly around the cup he’s holding. “I guess we have found a balance over the years” he replies carefully. “The kids are happy, we communicate, we don’t fight. And that’s… enough for us. We’re doing this for them”
Jeonghan stares at him for a long moment, then snorts. “That’s bullshit as you’re not staying away from him for the kids. You’re staying away because it’s easier to control distance than it is to risk wanting more”
Wonwoo exhales slowly, setting the cup he’s been drying back onto the shelf as if buying himself a second to choose the right words.“I’m just saying that it’s complicated” he says. “And it’s not just me, Mingyu is… fine with it too. We’ve talked about it. There will always be something between us obviously, we have kids, a past relationship, but that doesn’t mean we should force things to work when they clearly don’t”
Jeonghan tilts his head, listening now without the teasing edge, while Chan leans his hip against the counter, arms loosely crossed.
“We tried” Wonwoo continues. “More than once. We thought maybe time would fix it, that distance would soften the sharp parts. But every time we tried to be together again, we ran into the same wall, the same arguments, the same resentment” he lets out a breath. “And I can’t keep doing that to the boys. One week we’re together, the next we’re not. That’s not the stability I wish for them”
“So you’re choosing consistency even if it costs you something” Chan points out.
“Yes” Wonwoo replies without hesitation. “They need to feel safe”
“You know” Jeonghan says, stirring his coffee, “I hear what you’re saying. I really do. And I respect your feelings but you’re talking like love is a variable you can eliminate from the equation”
“You’re married, Han. That’s different”
“Oh, please. That just means we argue with paperwork involved” Jeonghan laughs affectionately, taking another sip before continuing. “Seungcheol and I fight, like, properly. Loud voices, slammed doors, dramatic declarations about how one of us is ‘unbearable’ and who has to sleep on the couch”
“I can picture that” Chan chuckles, “Hansol and I do the same”
“But we don’t pretend those fights don’t exist” he nods, "We don’t avoid each other to keep the peace. We sit down, sometimes after cooling off, sometimes after yelling, and we talk it through. We admit when we are tired or just being idiots”
Wonwoo frowns, “Yeah but that’s not always enough”
“It's not, indeed” Jeonghan agrees easily. “But it’s honest and Jiah sees that. She sees us disagree and she sees us making up. She sees that our love doesn’t disappear just because things get hard”
“Kids are more perceptive than we give them credit for” Chan hums softly.
“Exactly” Jeonghan says, pointing at him. “You think you’re protecting your boys from confusion, but what if you’re actually teaching them that love is something you walk away from the moment it becomes uncomfortable ? It’s not fair pretending that what you and Mingyu have is just… gone. And of course you don’t have to have it all figured out. Hell, Seungcheol and I are still figuring things out, and we’re years in!”
Wonwoo looks down at his hands, fingers flexing unconsciously. “What if trying again just hurts everyone more ?” he asks quietly, “I don’t want to fail Minjun and Sunwoo’s expectations”
“Then you deal with it if you and Mingyu are willing to do it together” Jeonghan smiles, not teasing now but warm. “And you’re not disappointing your babies, Won, bad parents don’t worry this much. Just… don’t confuse safety with distance. They’re not always the same thing”
Chan nods in agreement, “And if things really don't go well, you could try getting back in the game by dating someone else. Mingyu isn’t the only Alpha in the world, you know”
Wonwoo stiffens almost imperceptibly, fingers tightening around the towel in his hands.
“That’s also true” Jeonghan agrees, nodding with enthusiasm. “You’re attractive, you’re sexy, you’re smart. And your life doesn’t end just because one relationship went to hell”
Wonwoo lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “I honestly… don’t think I’m ready for that” he says, carefully neutral.
“Because you’re still thinking about Mingyu in that way ?”
“Because my kids come first” he cuts in sharply, too fast, too rehearsed.
“They always will” Chan says softly. “But you’re allowed to exist outside of them too, Wonwoo. You’re allowed to want… I don’t know, romance, meet other people and have fun”
“I don’t have all this time…” Wonwoo tries to justify himself by finding some reasonable excuses, "Between work, the twins and their schedules. And dating isn’t that realistic, let’s be honest, you shouldn’t be worried about my love life at all”
“We’re worried because you look like someone who’s been holding his breath for years”
“You know Soonyoung, right ?” Chan drops it casually, “That client who comes in every Tuesday and Thursday ? The one who orders iced americanos year-round and stares at you like a deer caught in headlights ?”
Wonwoo glares him. “He looks stupid”
“Come on, he’s funny! Polite, single and very clearly interested in you! You could try asking him out for a coffee that doesn’t involve me, or this place!”
“That’s completely out of the question” Wonwoo replies immediately. “Absolutely not”
“Wow, he didn’t even hesitate ” Jeonghan points out, glancing at Chan.
“I don’t date customers, guys” Wonwoo adds stiffly. “And I don’t date in general. Period”
“You don’t even have to completely date, blockhead! Just… let someone see you for who you are. Let yourself be wanted without turning your life into a logistical nightmare!”
Wonwoo looks away, focusing far too intently on aligning cups that are already perfectly straight. “I don’t need that right now. I’m fine… I have my boys, my home and everything I’ve ever wished for”
Jeonghan watches him for a long moment, then speaks more gently. “You know that you’re saying all these responsible things but none of them sound like the truth ?”
Wonwoo lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes. “And what’s the truth, then ?”
“Your heart is closed to everyone except Mingyu”
“That’s bullshit”
“Really ?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, lips curling into a knowing smile. “Then prove it! Ask that Soonyoung guy out”
There’s a beat, then another, then Wonwoo throws his hands up with a sharp breath. “Oh my god, fine!” he says, exasperated. “I’ll try to… look around. Happy now ? Can I resume my work now ?”
“Much better” Jeonghan says, satisfied.
Chan shakes his head, already anticipating how complicated that looking around is going to be.
After that little moment of tension, the subject of their conversation shifts naturally as they fall into lighter chatter — small complaints about work, amusing anecdotes on their children and idle observations about the cold and almost-snowy weather — nothing heavy that demands such hard introspection, and honestly, Wonwoo is very glad for that.
Soon enough the café fills with the usual morning crowd, a steady stream of regulars and newcomers alike, all searching for their favorite coffee. The surrounding grows busier and louder, alive with overlapping scents and voices. Jeonghan eventually checks his phone, downs the last of his coffee, and sweeps up his things, leaving with a wave and a lingering warmth coming from long-standing friendship.
The rest of the day continues in that same calm flow. Wonwoo’s hands move on their own, muscle memory carrying him from grinder to espresso machine, from counter to register, with every motion precise and efficient. He remembers orders without trying, times the milk just right, wipes down surfaces before anyone even notices they need it. Customers come and go, each of them greeted with polite smiles, and for hours his mind settles into the comfort of his cozy routine.
Wonwoo glances at the clock every now and then, surprised at how quickly the hours slip past, and before he realizes it, the afternoon approaches and his shift is almost over.
Chan hands him the small package wrapped in pink paper before heading out and Wonwoo tucks it carefully into his bag, offering him a sincere goodbye before stepping into the cold air. The little bells chime once more as he heads home, the softer afternoon lights painting the sky in orange-shaded now, and when he unlocks the door of his apartment, silence greets him exactly as he left it.
The house is still waiting as it’s early for the boys to be back, so Wonwoo removes his coat, sets his bag down and rolls up his sleeves, taking up the household chores he had left pending that morning. He starts with the laundry, sorting clothes in the basket by habit, then moves on to the sink, rinsing and stacking the dishes that have been sitting there since the twins’ breakfast. He vacuums the living room, guiding the machine around scattered furniture, then heads to the kitchen to chop some vegetables for dinner.
The repetitive motions soothe him and by the time he has done, the house smells faintly of soap and fresh produce, and everything feels just a little more in order ready for the return of noise and life.
The apartment door opens about half an hour later, the familiar electronic chime of the keypad ringing through the quiet space like a small announcement. Wonwoo looks up from the kitchen just in time to see the door swing wide and the twins spilling inside in a burst of color with their backpacks thumping against their backs. Mingyu follows close behind them, taller than the doorframe seems to allow, with his coat half open, hair a little messy from the outside wind, carrying with him his Alpha energy that always seems too big for enclosed spaces.
“Appa!” the twins shout in excited unison.
Wonwoo doesn’t even have time to answer before they’re running at him. He drops instinctively to his knees, arms opening just in time to catch them as they collide with his body. Sunwoo wraps his arms around Wonwoo’s neck, Minjun squeezes his middle as tightly as his small stature allow, and for a moment Wonwoo just closes his eyes and breathes in their delicate milky scents.
His omega settles, finally satisfied, as his apple scent blooms gently around them in something soft and unmistakably home. It washes over the sharper notes of school halls, playground sweat and other children’s perfumes, reclaiming his puppies as his own.
He brushes his nose against Sunwoo’s hair and presses a kiss into Minjun’s curls. “Easy, easy there. You’re going to knock me over”
“We missed you!” Sunwoo declares immediately, pulling back just enough to look at him with wide eyes. “So much!”
Minjun nods, “Yeah! School was soooo long today”
Wonwoo smiles, hands still firm and grounding on their backs. “Was it ? Did you behave, at least ?”
“I did! I was very good!” Sunwoo replies, “Teacher Wen even said so”
“Oh ?” Wonwoo arches a brow, amused. “Is that right ?”
“Yes!” Sunwoo says proudly, already digging through his backpack. “And I got a good grade! Look, Appa!”
He pulls out a slightly crumpled sheet of paper, holding it up like a trophy. On it is a brightly colored drawing of what appears to be a large animal with too many legs and an enormous smile.
Wonwoo takes it carefully, eyes widening in exaggerated amazement. “Wow… is this for the science assignment ?”
“Yes!” Sunwoo beams. “It was ‘draw your favorite animal’”
“And what animal is this ?” Wonwoo asks seriously, studying it as if it belongs in a museum.
“It’s a wolf!” Sunwoo explains, “But a friendly one. See ? It’s smiling!”
“I can see that, baby. It looks very kind” Wonwoo chuckles, genuinely impressed. “You did an amazing job”
Sunwoo glows at the praise, practically vibrating with pride.
Minjun, not to be outdone, tugs insistently at Wonwoo’s sleeve. “Appa, Appa! I did something too!”
Wonwoo turns his attention to him completely. “Tell me, love”
“I made a basket today” Minjun announces, puffing out his chest. “Like— swish!” he mimics the motion, arms flailing a little too enthusiastically.
“You did ?” Wonwoo laughs. “All by yourself ?”
“Yes!” Minjun nods, “The ball was big but I jumped high!”
“That’s incredible!” Wonwoo says, leaning in to press a kiss to Minjun’s temple. “I’m so proud of you”
Minjun grins, clearly pleased, and finally relaxes his grip.
Only then Wonwoo glances up to where Mingyu is standing a few steps away, watching the scene with that soft expression, one hand still resting on the threshold of the living room as if he hasn’t quite decided whether to fully enter the moment or not. Their eyes meet briefly — just long enough for something unspoken to pass between them — before Wonwoo looks back to the boys.
“Alright puppies” he says, shifting to stand up. “Backpacks down, shoes off and straight to wash your hands”
“But Appa I’m not even dirty” Sunwoo protests weakly.
Wonwoo gives him a knowing look, “You’ve been at school all day. You’re definitely dirty”
Minjun sighs. “You always say that, Papa!”
“And I will keep saying it” Wonwoo replies, “Dinner is almost ready, so hurry. Up up!”
The twins dump their backpacks by the wall and race each other to the bathroom, already arguing about who gets to wash first. Wonwoo watches them go with warmth lingering in his chest. He straightens slowly once the twins disappear down the hallway, turning back to Mingyu and sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweater more out of habit than necessity.
“Thank you” he says softly, “It looks like they had a really good day today”
“They did” Mingyu smiles immediately, always so bright when it comes to the boys. “Honestly, they were great. They listened, didn’t run off, and Minjun didn’t even try to climb the shelves at the clinic”
Wonwoo lets out a quiet chuckle. “That’s really an achievement”
“The doctor said he is doing better. His lisp is improving slowly but it starts to get noticeable. She gave him a few little exercises to do at home, nothing too complicated, just breathing and pacing words”
“That’s good to hear” Wonwoo nods as pride for his pup blooms quietly in his chest. “I’ll make sure we do them every day”
“I figured you would” Mingyu says fondly.
A brief silence settles between them and Wonwoo notices the way Mingyu hasn’t moved toward the door or the living room. He’s standing there, weight shifting slightly from one foot to the other, eyes darting away and back again, like he’s rehearsing something in his head.
Wonwoo narrows his gaze just a little, “Is everything okay ?”
“Yeah. I mean—mostly. I just…” Mingyu hesitates, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I promised the kids we would go see the new Spiderman movie together but I don’t think I’ll be able to take them to the cinema this Saturday”
Wonwoo frowns immediately, concern overriding everything else. “Why ? What happened ?”
“Uhm…” Mingyu pauses, cheeks flushing faintly. “It’s because of my rut. I started having some symptoms today and I don’t want to risk for it hitting me suddenly when I’m out with them”
For a split second, Wonwoo simply stares at him with a blush blooming across his cheeks before he can even stop it. “Oh” he says, far more quietly than intended. “Oh your rut. Right… Yes— of course”
“I already talked to them about it” he says. “On the way back. I didn’t explain… everything, obviously. I just told them I wasn’t feeling well and that we should reschedule. They took it better than I expected”
Wonwoo stills, “You did ?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah, Sunwoo asked if it was something that could be fixed with soup” Mingyu adds with a small smile. “Minjun said Spiderman could wait if it meant I got better”
That should make Wonwoo feel relieved. Grateful, even. But truth is that his mind is exploding into motion as his work schedule is rearranging itself in his head, his omega making contingency plans without his permission. “Should we take time off ? Stay closer ? Prepare suppressants ?” His wolf presses insistently against his ribs, restless, needy, urging him forward. “We need to take care of him”
Wonwoo swallows, lips parting as if to speak. “You— I mean… if you need help, I can—”
“I’ll be fine” Mingyu says quickly, almost too quickly, anticipating the offer. “It’s just a couple of days anyway, I’ll manage”
The words land heavier than they should and Wonwoo freezes, his sentences dying in his throat as his omega curls in on himself, deeply disappointed, confusion and something painfully close to rejection pervading him. There's no crisis to resolve, no place for him to step in. And Wonwoo forces a nod, with his fingers tucked in his pockets twitching nervously.
"Good, okay" he says after a beat. “Just let me know if you need... groceries or... medicine"
"Sure" Mingyu nods, "Thank you"
Another pause, this time more awkward, stretches between them. Wonwoo glances toward the kitchen where the faint smell of dinner lingers in the air, the vegetables he chopped earlier waiting patiently on the cutting board.
He hesitates, “Do you want… perhaps stay for dinner ?” then asks, almost casually.
But Mingyu shakes his head, looking genuinely regretful. “I already have plans with some friends from the gym”
“Oh…” Wonwoo says, the word slips out before he can soften it. He nods immediately after, once, as if to reassure them both. “Of course. That’s fine”
Rejection hits him again, deeper this time, starting to build up inside him like a layering of small blows he takes little by little. His omega goes still, wounded and silent now, retreating into himself.
First, there’s no need for him. Then, there’s no place left. Now, there’s no time.
From the bathroom Minjun’s voice rings out, breaking the tension between them. “Appa! Sunwoo is using all the soap!”
“Well…” Mingyu adds, shifting his weight, “I should probably go now”
“Yeah” Wonwoo replies, “I’m going… to check them and make sure they don’t flood the bathroom”
Mingyu nods, “Bye, kids! See you soon!” He raises his voice to make himself heard by them.
“Bye daddy! I love you!” Sunwoo replies.
Mingyu gives Wonwoo one last look and something unreadable flashes behind his eyes before he turns toward the door. The keypad chimes again as it locks behind him, the sound echoing louder in the quiet apartment. Wonwoo stays where he is for a moment longer, exhaling a long breath before he calls for the twins to come over to eat, carrying with him the weight of two unspoken refusals carefully tucked away where no one else can see.
Dinner with his puppies is cheerful as always. Wonwoo pushes aside his second thoughts and smiles at the enthusiastic recounts of school his children share between mouthfuls of food. He listens closely, nodding at the right moments, asking gentle questions in a soft voice that never betrays the strain beneath it. His hands work automatically as he cuts their meat into small pieces, attentive to their needs even as something inside him remains tightly coiled.
His omega is silent now, licking its wounds almost tenderly, but he doesn't let it show. Wonwoo never does that. Instead, his gaze lingers on his children to let their presence anchor him. Sunwoo sits upright, deeply focused as he tries to stuff a huge bite into his mouth. His cheeks puff out so adorably as he chews while, across from him, Minjun surprises Wonwoo by biting into a piece of broccoli without protest, as if he has decided just for tonight that rebellion can wait.
When dinner is done and the dishes are washed, the routine carries them forward. The kids wriggle into their soft cotton dinosaurs printed pajamas, their laughters spill freely in the room as Wonwoo helps tug sleeves over small arms and guide buttons through stubborn holes. Then, all together, they lie down on the couch surrounded by blankets and soft pillows, while a cartoon flickers to life on the screen.
They cuddle close without needing to be asked. Minjun leans against Wonwoo’s side and Sunwoo curls into his lap, small body fitting there as if it was always meant to. His head tucks beneath his father’s chin and Wonwoo instinctively lowers his face into his soft hair, inhaling their milk-sweet scents that are like a balm for his soul, able to ease all the tightness in his chest.
He stays there with an arm draped protectively around their small shoulders, fingers idly tracing familiar lines along their small backs. His eyes grow half-lidded as the cartoon goes on, Minjun’s breathing evens out first, his head tipping forward as sleep claims him. Sunwoo follows soon after, fingers loosening their grip on Wonwoo’s shirt as he surrenders completely to rest.
Wonwoo holds them both for a tiny bit longer before he carefully gathers them up and carries them into their room. There he lays them into their tiny beds and pulls the blankets up to their chins. The favorite stuffed animals are arranged at their sides and he kisses softly their foreheads before going, lingering on the threshold for a moment to watch their faces smoothing into peaceful lines.
It’s only then that Wonwoo allows himself a little and selfish moment of pure relax.
The bathroom light is too bright at first when he turns it on but the hot shower helps to soothe his muscles. Hot water cascades over him, pounding gently against his skin, and soon steam fills the small space blurring the edges of his own world. His shoulders loosen little by little, tension melting under the steady heat as if it’s being coaxed out of his body.
He tilts his head back, letting the water run through his hair to wash away the residue of the day. Then he goes through his skincare routine — cleanse, tone, moisturize — each step is meditative and these small rituals ground him. It’s the quiet reminder that he still exists beyond his responsibilities, that he is still here and takes care of himself even if some parts of him feel bruised and raw.
When he finally slips into bed, the sheets are cool against his skin and the mattress dips under his weight. The empty space beside him stays stubbornly untouched and Wonwoo feels his omega curling inward again, so restless and unsatisfied. He pulls the blanket closer around himself, cocooning his body as if fabric and warmth might substitute what’s missing, and exhales slowly alone in a bed that suddenly feels far too big.
Eventually, he turns on the lamp and reaches for a book from the nightstand, hoping those words might redirect his thoughts. He reads four chapters without truly noticing the passage of time, eyes moving over the lines more out of habit than engagement, until the door of his room creaks open and Minjun walks in rubbing his sleepy eyes with the back of his hand.
Wonwoo’s heart softens immediately and he closes the book he had been pretending to read, setting it aside.
“Hey, baby” he says gently. “What are you doing still awake ? Can’t you sleep ?”
Minjun shakes his head, lip wobbling just a little as he clutches the fabric of his sleeve. “I had a bad dream” he murmurs. “It was loud… and there was a monster but I couldn’t run”
Wonwoo sits up, “Come here” he says softly, reaching out to brush Minjun’s hair back from his face. “Do you want to come to bed with me for a bit ? We can cuddle until it goes away”
Minjun nods and climbs onto the bed, wriggling under the covers and pressing himself against Wonwoo’s side. His small body is warm, Wonwoo wraps an arm around him pulling him close, hand resting protectively between his shoulder blades.
“There” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Minjun’s forehead. “You’re safe. No monsters here”
Minjun sighs and snuggles closer until his cheek is tucked against Wonwoo’s chest. “Don’t tell Sunwoo” he whispers conspiratorially, eyes already fluttering shut. “He gets jealous when I sleep in the big bed”
Wonwoo smiles and brushes his thumb gently over Minjun’s temple. “Okay” he whispers back. “It’ll be our little secret”
They stay like that for a while, the room quiet except for the soft rhythm of Minjun’s breathing. Wonwoo feels his omega settle again, soothed by the closeness of his pup, the beautiful bond they have, the simple certainty of being needed. He almost thinks Minjun has fallen asleep when the small body against him shifts again.
“Papa ?” Minjun asks suddenly, voice drowsy but curious.
“Yes, baby ?”
“Why are you sad ?”
“I’m not sad” he replies, smoothing his tone. “Why do you think that ?”
Minjun wrinkles his nose, sniffing lightly like he is testing the air. “Your scent is sour” he says matter-of-factly. “Like when you drink too much coffee”
Wonwoo blinks startled, he hadn’t realized that. He exhales slowly, fingers tightening just a fraction on the blanket. “I’m just… thinking about some stuff. Grown-up thoughts, you don’t have to worry”
Minjun hums, clearly processing this. “Are you sad because of Daddy ?”
Wonwoo frowns, heart giving an uneasy twist. “What do you mean ?”
Minjun lifts his head just enough to look at him, eyes serious in that way children get when they think they have uncovered something important. “Because Daddy has a boyfriend ?”
Wonwoo freezes. “…What ?” he says carefully, “Who… who told you that ?”
“I just know” Minjun shrugs, “Sunwoo said Daddy smells happy lately, like when people hold hands and kiss”
“And who…” Wonwoo swallows. “Who do you think… I mean— have you met him ? Daddy’s boyfriend ?”
“Yes” Minjun nods, “It’s Mr. Boo. Sunwoo’s ballet teacher”
There is a long, stunned silence. Wonwoo stares at the wall in front of him, his brain scrambling to keep up all those informations before letting out a quiet incredulous breath. “Mr. Boo” he repeats faintly.
Minjun nods again, “He seems cheerful and smiles a lot” he explains, “Daddy said that sometimes adults simply get along but he always smells a bit like vanilla… and I don’t like it”
Mingyu doesn't smell like vanilla, indeed, that’s not his natural scent at all. Wonwoo purses his lips as a dozen thoughts collide at once, then looks back down at Minjun and runs a hand through his hair, trying to ground himself. “Well…” he says finally, voice gentle and steady despite everything, “Daddy is right. Sometimes adults just… get along with other adults”
Minjun seems unconvinced but too sleepy to argue. He yawns, curling back into Wonwoo’s chest. “Okay…” he murmurs. “But if it makes you sad, it’s fine. I can stay with you”
Wonwoo’s chest aches. “I know baby” he whispers, kissing Minjun’s forehead again. “Thank you for staying with me”
Minjun smiles faintly, already drifting into his deepest sleep, and his breathing slowly returns calm back again. Wonwoo holds him tighter, staring into the darkness as his omega silently unravels at the thought that even his son can sense what he actually refuses to name.
Only then does understanding settle in, like dust after something has shattered.
The small refusals of the evening rearrange themselves into a clearer picture now. The cautious distance when he mentioned his upcoming rut, the polite refusal to stay over for dinner with the kids, “plans with some friends from the gym”, Mingyu had said, but Wonwoo now knows better. It was probably a date, something Mingyu had chosen not to mention, something Wonwoo had never been meant to imagine, let alone confronted him about.
And maybe that was right.
He had no right to interfere, no claim to make. Still, the realization sinks its teeth into him because he had never truly prepared himself for the idea that Mingyu might rebuild his life without him — might do it so easily, so soon — while Wonwoo was still standing guard over a past he refused to either reclaim or release. It makes him feel small, selfish even. As if some part of him had assumed that distance could coexist with exclusivity, that he could step away without ever being left behind.
The truth is harder to face.
Wonwoo has always blamed himself for what never was, for the family he was too afraid to fully inhabit. He clung to perfection because the thought of watching something precious fall apart terrified him more than loneliness ever could. And now, confronted with the possibility that Mingyu might choose differently, might choose someone else, he realizes how cruel that fear has been, not just to Mingyu, but to himself too.
He lies there in the dark with Minjun’s warm weight curled against his chest and lets the ache linger. Not as punishment but as proof of love once lived, of choices made too carefully, and of a future he may have already taught himself not to reach for.