VHope Fluffshots

Green

trigger warning just in case. this isn't making fun of autism or anything like that, I swear.

Taehyung kept an indifferent face as he walked the halls of his son's elementary school. He was quite aware of how he looked to the little kids and teachers passing him in the halls; scowls on the adults' faces while the children gazed at him half in awe, half in fear. It took him ten minutes in administration and attendance to convince him that he wasn't going to shoot up the school.

It was quite the opposite, really. He was simply there to pick his son up from school. The only reason he had to walk to the classroom to pick him up was because Hoseok was considered a 'special case'. Hoseok was on the low end of the autism spectrum, but he still had to be in the special education program. Hoseok didn't listen to anyone other than his father - he didn't even react to anyone that wasn't his father - usually stayed by himself and away from everyone else, had so many color-related triggers that it was actually scary, and never spoke. That was how he was.

To others, Taehyung certainly did not look kid-friendly. Piercings, tattoos, expensive clothing. Honey-blond hair that fell over his mysterious, dark brown eyes, which were shielded behind his glasses. Compared to all of his son's triggers, he should be a walking trigger. But he surprisingly wasn't. In fact, he was what Hoseok saw as safety and comfort. Only Taehyung could touch, hold, calm and control the nine-year-old boy.

"How was he today?" the tattoo artist asked as he stepped into the classroom. It was painted a light-green so the color-sensitive children could learn in a safe environment. The teacher, Mr Yoon Jeongan, smiled lightly. He was one of the few that wasn't intimidated by Taehyung's appearance. "He was good. Although, a teacher came in to borrow the printer. She was wearing a red dress." Oh god. Red was one of Hoseok's triggers. Taehyung knew where this was going. "He screamed until she left. I think he's mad at me for letting her in, but that was the only issue."

Could have been worse, Taehyung thought as he took his son's green backpack from the rack. "Anything else?" he asked and Mr Yoon nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, actually. This is really important," he said lowly, moving over to his desk to pick up a sheet of notebook paper. "They had a writing assignment today. They were supposed to write about their hero. Read it when you get home. He's.... remarkable. Talented."

The tattoo artist nodded and set the paper in one of the compartments of Hoseok's bag, then made his way over to his son. Hoseok was sitting by himself, looking at all the goldfish in the tank near the back of the classroom. Fish fascinated the boy, but he couldn't have any at home. They spent a lot of time at the aquarium when school wasn't going on. But if it kept the boy from screaming, it was totally worth spending money on.

Wordlessly, Taehyung sat down on the floor next to his son, who leaned into his side when he sensed his presence. "Hey, baby. Ready?" Taehyung mumbled, placing a gentle kiss in his son's fluffy brown hair. "Trigger," Hoseok replied, eyes not leaving the fish. It was a word he would say after he experienced one of his triggers, hence why he said it in the first place. It made sense. "Are you mad at Mr Yoon?" Taehyung asked, and the boy shook his head microscopically.

He stood up and Taehyung knew that it meant it was time to leave.

At home, Hoseok took a bath and slipped into a pair of baggy, baby-blue sweatpants and one of Taehyung's button-up shirts to match. The tattoo artist stayed in his black sweatpants, but changed into a black, short-sleeve V-neck t-shirt. All the beautiful ink on his arms and hands was completely visible, as well as the ink on his neck and curling up to his collar bones from underneath the shirt collar. He still couldn't understand how he himself wasn't one of his son's triggers. But then again, Hoseok saw the world differently.

Yeontan sat on the kitchen floor while Taehyung made dinner, staring up at him like he was some sort of god. Hoseok sat on the kitchen counter, intently watching as his father made chicken and rice. He absolutely loved watching him cook, as well as hear about his father's day. And even though Taehyung knew he probably would get little to no response, he still liked sharing the events of the day to the person he cared about most.

"So, I had a lady come in today, and she asked me to do a fish on her leg. It was your favorite - a goldfish," Taehyung said as he flipped the chicken over. He smiled as he glanced up at Hoseok; a happy glint in his eye. "Fishy!" Hoseok yelled and Taehyung winced, but he nodded in agreement. "It was really pretty, baby."

But his son shook his head aggressively, pointing vigorously at Taehyung, who tilted his head in a silent question. "Daddy's really pretty," Hoseok stressed and his father smiled his wide, boxy smile. "Thank you, baby. But I'm not as pretty as you!" he replied and held out a hand for his son to play with. Hoseok loved the tattoos on his father's hands; especially the tattoo on the side of Taehyung's right hand. It was Hoseok's name.

As he traced the letters, a light smile played on his lips. That tattoo was one of three things that made Hoseok actually smile.

After dinner, they sat together on the couch. Hoseok was curled up underneath a fluffy green blanket, head resting in Taehyung's lap. Yeontan was curled up where the boy's legs bent, forming a sort of nest. Taehyung trained him to act as a sort of service dog for Hoseok. The little fluff ball helped in ways he would never understand.

One of Taehyung's tattooed hands gently combed through Hoseok's fluffy brown hair, aiding him in falling asleep. In his other hand was the essay Mr Yoon insisted the tattoo artist looked over. As he read, tears filled his eyes and a fond smile washed across his face. It was about him. He was Hoseok's hero. But there was one part in particular that caused a frown to take over his features.

I feel bad, though. Daddy's lonely. Every time he brings one of his dates home to meet me, they never come back the next day. It's my fault; I drive them away by being me. I'm sorry, Daddy. No one else likes me except you. Please don't be mad at me.

How could Hoseok think that Taehyung was mad at him for something like that? It was never his fault; it was his dates' faults for not being patient, for not understanding. It wasn't true that Hoseok drove them away. Park Jimin stayed, but he was overseas at the moment and would be back that weekend. He didn't give up on Taehyung just because Hoseok was the way he was. Jimin actually liked Hoseok and wanted to take the time to know him - and his father - a little better. He wanted to understand, too.

Very carefully, Taehyung lifted Hoseok - blanket and all - off the couch and into his arms. He held him like the baby he still saw him as and kissed his forehead before carrying him to his bedroom.

Green. Hoseok's room was green. It was one of the only colors that calmed him. Hanging from the ceiling were little green, yellow and orange airplanes, as well as some goldfish. Hoseok loved airplanes and goldfish. He didn't have many toys - simply because he didn't like to play with anything - but he did have a Beanie Baby collection that took up the majority of his bookshelf. His bedframe and dresser was white; he didn't like colorful furniture. His bedsheets and pillowcase was a light grey, covered by an emerald comforter.

Yeontan jumped up onto the bed as Taehyung laid his pride and joy down in his bed. Hoseok had a special way of being tucked in; if his comforter wasn't folded to where at least four inches of the lighter side was showing, he wouldn't go to sleep. And Yeontan had to be sleeping against his lower back.

As soon as Taehyung tucked his son in, the little dog got into position and was out like a light. The tattoo artist brushed Hoseok's bangs out of his eyes, trailing his hand down the boy's arm where it stopped, giving his son a light pat. "Goodnight, my baby. I love you," Taehyung whispered as he set a kiss on Hoseok's temple.

Just as he was about to talk through the doorway, he heard a quiet, "Love Daddy more."