raspberries and mocha | heejake

2

The clock ticked past eleven, the soft hum of the apartment settling in for the night as Heeseung laid out two plates on the small dining table. He could hear the distant sounds of the city filtering through the window, but the apartment itself was quiet. It was always like this on Thursdays. Riki would come home late, and they'd sit down to dinner together, a tradition Heeseung had grown to look forward to.

He glanced at the clock again, then back at the front door. Just as he was about to check his phone, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the lock caught his attention. Heeseung smiled to himself as the door creaked open.

"Tadaima," came Riki's voice, casual and sing-song as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes.

Heeseung turned, crossing his arms with a mock frown. "Kid, you're late. Again."

"Okaeri, Dad," Riki replied, his grin mischievous as he dropped his bag by the door. "Sorry, lost track of time with the interviews and shit."

Heeseung rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You really don't have to keep calling me that, you know."

"But you are my dad, well, technically" Riki said, emphasizing the word with a playful grin. He sauntered over to the table, plopping down into the chair like he owned the place. "I mean, who else raised me?"

Heeseung shook his head, but there was no hiding the warmth in his chest. "Alright, that's enough. Just eat before the food gets cold."

Riki reached for his plate, eyes lighting up when he saw what was for dinner. "Wow, you really went all out tonight. Holy shit."

"It's just udon, Riki," Heeseung said, but the soft pride in his voice was unmistakable.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the clink of forks against plates the only sound between them. Heeseung couldn't help but sneak a few glances at Riki. His face had filled out since the skinny, lost boy he'd found all those years ago, but there were still traces of that kid hidden in his features—the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he could never sit still for long.

"You've got an early start tomorrow?" Heeseung asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, but nothing too crazy," Riki replied, waving it off. "I'll be home for dinner, trust me."

Heeseung nodded, knowing full well that Riki's promises didn't always stick. But he didn't mind. Just seeing him come through the door each night, safe and sound, was enough.

As they finished up their meal, Riki stretched in his chair, letting out an exaggerated yawn. "Man, I'm beat. Think I'll crash early tonight."

"Good job. You're not as invincible as you think, you know."

Riki rolled his eyes before smirking again. "Here we go again with the dad talk. Classic."

Heeseung just laughed, shaking his head as he began clearing the table. He wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but these quiet Thursday nights had become the highlight of his week. The teasing, the banter, the way Riki called him "dad" with that grin—it all made the late nights and the worries worth it.

"Night, Riki," Heeseung said as he watched the boy head down the hall to his room.

"Goodnight, Dad," Riki called back, his voice fading behind the closing door.

Heeseung stood in the kitchen for a moment, the clatter of dishes suddenly quiet. He allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Maybe he wasn't perfect, but he was enough for Riki.

And that, for now, was all that mattered.