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The smell of various different foods hung in the air. Delicious smells, smells Yoongi had only smelt when passing by restaurants. Not even the school cafeteria held such salivating aromas. It made Yoongi's stomach grumble. Having being fed nothing but liquid milk for who knows how long, he was excited to finally get some solid food into his system. Did oatmeal count as solid?
A ceramic blue polka dotted bowl with steaming oatmeal inside was carried by Appa, and instead of placing it in front of Yoongi where he was situated in the humiliating high chair, he kept it to himself by the large dining room table.
Appa chuckled, cooing, when he spotted Yoongi staring intensely at it. "I know you're hungry, sugar, but it's too hot right now."
Blushing darkly, Yoongi glanced downwards at the white plastic tray keeping him in the seat. The pacifier had been gone for close to ten minutes, yet he hadn't uttered a single syllable. Afraid of what would happen. Afraid he'd blurt out some profanity (he doubted he would, the other day was just a rare occurrence, but he'd take no chances). Yoongi was just afraid.
Afraid of screwing up his new freedom.
Daddy walked from the stove across the room with a sizzling pink frying pan. Bacon was pulled from it and placed on two dishes. Yoongi had been watching the man cook expertly, concentrated and humming contentedly, all while wearing a matching pink hued apron.
"Mm, that smells delicious," Appa moaned, earning an amused eye roll from his husband. "It's making me even hungrier. I bet you want your breakfast, don't you, baby boy? It'll be ready in a few more minutes," he reassured, the bowl of cooling oatmeal sitting in front of him still.
Yoongi had had oatmeal before. It wasn't the best thing to eat but after days and days of liquid he'd eat anything.
Minutes passed. Daddy occasionally calling over from his place at the stove to check on Yoongi, while Appa scrolled through his phone. Soon, though, Daddy walked over to the table and placed two plates filled with breakfast foods in front of his husband and himself.
"Come here, honey," Daddy murmured, gently pulling his chair closer to Yoongi and, to the teenager's horror, pulled out a violet bib and tied it loosely around his neck. Yet he still reluctantly kept silent and still, waiting for the oatmeal to be placed in front of him so he could eat.
But that didn't happen. Instead Daddy took a matching spoon and scooped a spoonful of oatmeal, bring it up to Yoongi's thin lips.
They were going to feed him ?
Yoongi didn't remember that being a rule. He could move his arms, albeit feebly, surely he could feed himself. He didn't miss the look both husbands shared when he refused to open his mouth, face scandalised.
Almost cautiously, Daddy faced the younger and offered a sweet smile, still holding the spoonful of warm oatmeal up.
"Open up, sweetheart," he cooed. Yoongi tightened his lips closed, glaring like a baby lion (at least that's what the adults saw).
