hongjoong skipped along the sidewalk as he took a bite of the berry ice cream he bought. the backpack on his back bounced lightly along with his fluffy red hair that was fading a little bit. he was feeling giddy and extremely happy. the previous night wasnt the best since he met rude clients that degraded him but there was one thing that brought upon a smile on his face; he found a chocolate in his bag he never remembered keeping. it was his favorite chocolate, the ones with almonds in it. he loved those ever since he was young.
the redhead found the chocolate hiding under his spare pink undies from six years ago while rummaging for his phone charger. he didn't expect to find it but it was like a little treat for him after a long day of work. he wondered where that chocolate spawned from, he also wondered if he was the one who kept it in there since he had the memory of a goldfish. he pondered eating the chocolate for a minute, knowing it was marinating under his over used undies but little did he care.
this random thing reminded him of when yechan was a toddler, around three years old-- he would steal hongjoong's undies and run around the house with them like his life depended on it but once he took them away from him, he would throw a two hour long tantrum because he didn't get his father's undies. hongjoong never knew he could ruin someone's life by not giving them his undies to play with. the male remembers chasing his little one around the small apartment with soaking wet hair and his beige turkish towel tied around his waist.
that was the sole reason he refused to shower with the door closed unless and until there was someone to supervise his son. on some days he would shower in peace when san took care of yechan but those days weren't often. the younger male was busy with college, he was focused on getting his degree which hongjoong was understanding about.
some days yechan was extra calm due to being tired from playing and the others he would barge into the bathroom with something to show his father. hongjoong had no other option but to say 'great job love' or 'that's neat' mid shower; unless it was something like carrying hongjoong's hoodies on his head. during those times hongjoong would have to prepare to chase an energetic six year old around the house for half an hour. despite all of this, he wouldn't change his life for anything, yechan made his life better despite how significantly difficult it was to take care of a child alone. he wouldn't change anything for shit.
hongjoong had a long night ahead of him that he wasn't anticipating. he had a lot of work to get done and the only thing he was excited for was spending time with yechan. he had decided to teach his son how to bake a cake since the week had been hectic and he hadn't spent much time with him. he was currently walking home with all the items needed to bake the cake.
the evening sun illuminated against the floor of the building as hongjoong inserted the key into the hole and twisted it, a small click indicating that the door had opened. he pushed the door open with his before and placed the grocery bags on the mini table in the small foyer. just as he squatted down to untie the laces on his favorite red shoes, he felt a little figure attack him in a hug while giggling.
"hi daddy!" the little one exclaimed, excited to see his father after not seeing the entire morning. san babysat him since he was free that day.
"hi baby, how was your day?" hongjoong said as he admired his son's adorable face and brushed back his soft hair with his fingers. yechan just nodded and flashed a little smile to his father.
"okay, i'll assume you enjoyed it," he whispered before he picked up yechan in his arms to hang out with him in the living room, he kicked his shoes off to the side.
san walked out into the living room with a crumpled shirt and messed up hair as he rubbed to sleep out of his eyes.
"i see, were you both taking a nap? for how long?"
YOU ARE READING
this crazy little thing called love - seongjoong
Fanfictionwhere a young father falls for his son's psychiatrist.