The breaking point
The weeks that followed settled into a rhythm both comforting and precarious. During office hours, Jongin and Kyungsoo maintained a professional relationship, though the lingering gazes and brief touches when passing documents spoke of something deeper. After work, Kyungsoo would often drive them home, sometimes joining them for a simple dinner in Jongin's small apartment.
These evenings had become Yujin's favorite part of the day. He would drag Kyungsoo by the hand to show him his latest drawings or the new words he'd learned, and the alpha would give the child his complete attention, as if there were nothing more important in the world.
Jongin watched these interactions with a mixture of joy and fear—joy at seeing his son so happy, fear at how easily they were both becoming attached to Kyungsoo's presence in their lives.
"You're thinking too hard," Kyungsoo observed one evening as they sat at Jongin's small table, Yujin already asleep in the bed across the room. "I can practically hear the gears turning."
Jongin smiled despite himself. "Just wondering when this will all fall apart."
The blunt honesty of his statement seemed to catch Kyungsoo off guard. "Why would it fall apart?"
"Because good things don't last," Jongin replied simply, tracing the rim of his tea mug. "Not in my experience."
Kyungsoo's expression softened. "Not everything is temporary, Jongin."
"Isn't it?" Jongin met his gaze steadily. "You've been incredibly kind to us, but eventually you'll realize that this—" he gestured vaguely around the cramped apartment, "—isn't your world. And that's okay. I just want to be prepared when it happens."
"You think I'm here out of kindness," Kyungsoo said, his voice low to avoid waking Yujin. It wasn't a question.
"Aren't you?"
"No." The single word was spoken with such conviction that Jongin felt it like a physical touch. "I'm here because when I'm not with you and Yujin, I feel like something's missing. I'm here because for the first time in my life, I've found someone who sees me—not my position or my money or what I can provide, but me."
The raw honesty in Kyungsoo's voice made Jongin's chest ache. "You could have anyone," he whispered.
"I don't want anyone," Kyungsoo replied simply. "I want you."
The words hung in the air between them, too honest to dismiss, too profound to easily accept. Jongin looked away, overwhelmed by the emotion building in his chest.
"I should go," Kyungsoo said gently, understanding Jongin's need for space. "It's getting late."
Jongin nodded, walking him to the door. As Kyungsoo stepped into the hallway, he paused and turned back.
"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere unless you ask me to."
After he left, Jongin stood with his forehead pressed against the closed door, trying to quiet the voice in his head that insisted this happiness couldn't last—that a man like Do Kyungsoo couldn't possibly want a permanent place in the messy, complicated life of a struggling omega and his son.
---
The next morning dawned with a steady rain that mirrored Jongin's unsettled mood. He woke early, head fuzzy from a night of restless sleep, only to find Yujin unusually quiet and warm to the touch.
"Not feeling good, baby?" he asked, pressing his lips to his son's forehead.
Yujin shook his head weakly, a small whimper escaping him. "Hurts, Appa."
"What hurts, Yujinnie?" Jongin asked, his heart rate picking up as he slipped into crisis mode.
"Everything," Yujin replied, his eyes glassy with fever.
Jongin checked the time—5:30 AM, too early to call the pediatrician's office. He gave Yujin a children's fever reducer from his meager medicine cabinet and sent a text to the childcare center saying they wouldn't be coming in. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he sent another message to Kyungsoo:
_Won't be in today. Yujin is sick. Sorry for the late notice._
He didn't expect a reply—Kyungsoo rarely checked his phone before 7 AM unless there was an urgent work matter. So he was surprised when his phone buzzed almost immediately:
_How sick? Do you need anything?_
The simple question, devoid of any complaint about the work disruption, made Jongin's throat tight with emotion. He typed back:
_Fever. Probably just a virus, but I need to keep him home._
Kyungsoo's response came quickly:
_Of course. Take all the time you need. Let me know if you need medicine or food delivered._
Jongin sent a quick thank you, then turned his attention back to Yujin, who had fallen into a fitful sleep. Throughout the morning, the fever seemed to respond to the medication, but by early afternoon, it had spiked again alarmingly.
"Appa, it hurts," Yujin cried, his small body radiating heat. "Make it stop."
Jongin called the pediatrician's office, his voice tight with worry as he described the symptoms. The receptionist's response only increased his anxiety.
"Dr. Kim is fully booked today," she explained. "The earliest we could see him would be tomorrow morning."
"He has a fever of 103," Jongin said, trying to keep the panic from his voice. "And he's complaining of pain."
"If you feel it's an emergency, you should take him to the hospital," she advised. "Otherwise, continue with fever reducers and fluids until you can bring him in tomorrow."
Jongin hung up, frustration and fear warring inside him. The hospital would mean a long wait and expenses he couldn't afford, but Yujin's condition seemed to be worsening by the hour.
As he debated his options, Yujin began to cry again, his usual resilience completely worn away by illness. "Want Soo," he whimpered, the request catching Jongin off guard.
"Kyungsoo is at work, baby," Jongin soothed, stroking his son's hair. "He can't come right now."
"Want Soo," Yujin insisted, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.
Jongin bit his lip, hesitating only briefly before reaching for his phone. His pride wasn't worth his son's distress. He dialed Kyungsoo's number, heart pounding as it rang.
"Jongin?" Kyungsoo answered immediately, concern evident in his voice. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm sorry to bother you," Jongin began, hating how his voice trembled. "Yujin's fever is getting worse, and he's asking for you. I know you're busy—"
"I'm on my way," Kyungsoo interrupted without hesitation. "What's his temperature?"
"103," Jongin replied, relief washing over him at Kyungsoo's immediate response. "The pediatrician can't see him until tomorrow."
"That's too long to wait," Kyungsoo said, and Jongin could hear rustling in the background as the alpha gathered his things. "I'm leaving now. Do you need me to pick up anything on the way?"
"No, I—" Jongin's voice broke unexpectedly. "Just hurry. Please."
"Ten minutes," Kyungsoo promised. "I'm coming."
True to his word, Kyungsoo arrived at Jongin's apartment in exactly ten minutes, slightly out of breath as if he'd run at least part of the way. His usual immaculate appearance was disheveled—tie loosened, hair damp from the rain, suit jacket slung over one arm. None of it mattered when Jongin opened the door, relief flooding through him at the sight of the alpha.
"Thank you for coming," Jongin said, leading him inside where Yujin lay listlessly on the bed.
Kyungsoo went straight to Yujin, crouching beside the bed. "Hey, buddy," he said softly. "I heard you're not feeling well."
"Soo," Yujin whispered, a ghost of a smile crossing his feverish face as he reached for the alpha's hand.
Kyungsoo gently took the small hand in his, his other palm going to Yujin's forehead. His expression darkened at the heat radiating from the child's skin.
"We need to get him to a hospital," he said quietly to Jongin. "This fever is too high, and he's showing signs of dehydration."
The words confirmed Jongin's worst fears. "The nearest emergency room always has a long wait," he said, already gathering Yujin's comfort items. "Last time we were there, it took four hours just to be seen."
"We're not going to the public ER," Kyungsoo said, already lifting Yujin carefully into his arms. The child went willingly, head resting against Kyungsoo's shoulder. "My cousin is a pediatrician at Seoul Medical Center. He'll see us right away."
Jongin wanted to protest—Seoul Medical Center was the most exclusive hospital in the city, far beyond his means—but Yujin's wellbeing overrode his pride. He nodded, grabbing his wallet and phone before following Kyungsoo out to the car.
The ride to the hospital was tense, with Jongin sitting in the back seat, cradling Yujin against his chest. The child drifted in and out of consciousness, whimpering occasionally when the car hit a bump.
"Almost there," Kyungsoo assured them, his eyes frequently checking the rearview mirror. "Just a few more minutes."
Jongin had never seen the alpha drive so aggressively, weaving through traffic with focused determination. There was something profoundly comforting about seeing Kyungsoo—usually so controlled and measured—abandon his composure out of concern for Yujin.
True to his word, when they arrived at Seoul Medical Center, they were met at the entrance by a young doctor who bore a subtle resemblance to Kyungsoo around the eyes.
"This is Dr. Do Minseok," Kyungsoo explained as his cousin immediately began examining Yujin. "He's one of the best pediatricians in Seoul."
Dr. Minseok worked quickly, checking Yujin's vitals before leading them to a private examination room. "His fever is quite high, and he's showing signs of dehydration and possible infection," he explained. "I want to run some tests and get him started on IV fluids right away."
Everything moved with an efficiency that Jongin had never experienced in healthcare before. Within minutes, Yujin was settled in a pediatric bed, a nurse gently inserting an IV line while another took blood samples. Throughout it all, Kyungsoo remained a steady presence, never leaving their side, his hand a comforting weight on Jongin's shoulder.
When Yujin finally fell asleep, the IV fluids and first dose of antibiotics already beginning their work, Jongin found himself alone with Kyungsoo in the quiet hospital room. The events of the day crashed over him suddenly—the fear, the helplessness, the overwhelming relief at Kyungsoo's unhesitating support.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't know what I would have done if—"
"Don't," Kyungsoo interrupted gently, moving to stand in front of him. "You don't need to thank me. Not for this. Not ever for this."
Something in Jongin broke then—a wall he'd built around himself long ago, a defense against vulnerability that had kept him isolated even as it kept him safe. Without warning, tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
Kyungsoo didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and pulled Jongin into his arms, one hand cradling the back of his head as Jongin buried his face against the alpha's shoulder. The embrace was solid and warm, offering strength without demand, comfort without expectation.
"It's okay," Kyungsoo murmured, his deep voice rumbling against Jongin's ear. "He's going to be okay. You're both going to be okay."
Jongin's hands clutched at Kyungsoo's shirt, holding on as if the alpha were the only solid thing in a world suddenly turned to quicksand. "I was so scared," he admitted, the words muffled against Kyungsoo's shoulder. "When he asked for you, I just—I didn't know what else to do."
"You did exactly the right thing," Kyungsoo assured him, his hand moving in soothing circles against Jongin's back. "I'm glad you called me. I always want you to call me when you need help."
Jongin pulled back slightly to look at Kyungsoo's face, struck by the raw emotion he saw there. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, echoing the question that had been haunting him for weeks. "Why us?"
Kyungsoo's expression softened, his eyes never leaving Jongin's. "Because from the moment I saw you in that grocery store, trying so hard to take care of Yujin on your own, I knew you were someone special. And every day since then has only confirmed it." His hand came up to gently wipe a tear from Jongin's cheek. "You're strong, resilient, kind, and so incredibly brave. How could I not fall for you?"
The simple honesty of the confession stole Jongin's breath. There was no artifice in Kyungsoo's words, no calculation or pretense—just the unvarnished truth of his feelings.
"I have nothing to offer you," Jongin whispered, giving voice to the fear that had kept him holding back. "No status, no money, just complications and responsibilities."
"You have everything to offer," Kyungsoo corrected firmly. "Yourself. Your trust. That brilliant mind and brave heart." His thumb traced the line of Jongin's jaw. "And Yujin—who is the most amazing child I've ever known. Those things are worth more to me than anything else could be."
In that moment, with Yujin sleeping peacefully nearby and Kyungsoo looking at him with such open affection, Jongin finally allowed himself to believe—to accept that what was growing between them might be real and lasting.
"I'm falling for you too," he admitted, the words both terrifying and liberating. "And it scares me more than anything."
"Why?" Kyungsoo asked softly.
"Because I've never had something precious that didn't eventually get taken away," Jongin explained, his voice barely audible. "And you and Yujin together... that would be everything."
Understanding dawned in Kyungsoo's eyes, along with a fierce determination. "I'm not going anywhere, Jongin. Not unless you ask me to leave."
As if to seal the promise, he leaned forward slowly, giving Jongin every opportunity to pull away. But Jongin found himself moving closer instead, drawn by a gravity he could no longer resist.
Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle yet profound—a first connection that felt somehow like coming home. Kyungsoo's hand cradled Jongin's face with reverent care, while Jongin's fingers curled into the fabric of the alpha's shirt, anchoring himself to this moment, this feeling.
When they finally parted, Kyungsoo rested his forehead against Jongin's, a smile tugging at his lips. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed.
"Me too," Jongin admitted, a matching smile spreading across his face despite the tears still drying on his cheeks.
A small sound from the hospital bed broke the moment—Yujin shifting in his sleep, one small hand reaching out as if searching for something. Both men moved immediately to the bedside, Jongin taking his son's hand while Kyungsoo gently adjusted the blanket.
"Appa," Yujin murmured, his eyes fluttering open briefly. "Soo staying?"
The simple question, asked with such trusting certainty, made Jongin's heart swell. He looked up at Kyungsoo, who nodded without hesitation.
"Yes, baby," Jongin assured his son. "Soo is staying."
Yujin's eyes closed again, a small smile on his lips as he drifted back to sleep, still holding his father's hand. Kyungsoo pulled a chair closer to the bed for Jongin, then took the one on the opposite side, reaching across to lay his hand over both of theirs.
As the night deepened around them, with Yujin sleeping peacefully between them, Jongin felt something shift within him—a surrender to the possibility that sometimes, good things could last. That sometimes, the shelter you needed had been waiting for you all along, ready to enfold you if only you were brave enough to step inside.
---
Jongin awoke to sunlight streaming through the hospital blinds and the gentle sound of Yujin's laughter—a sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages. Blinking away the disorientation of sleep, he found his son sitting up in bed, the IV still attached but color returned to his cheeks as he watched Kyungsoo manipulate a small dinosaur toy in an elaborate pantomime.
"And then T-Rex says, 'I'm not angry, I just have short arms!'" Kyungsoo was saying in a comically gruff voice that had Yujin giggling uncontrollably.
The sight of them together—Yujin clearly feeling better, Kyungsoo still in his rumpled work clothes from the day before—filled Jongin with a warmth that spread through his entire body.
"Appa's awake!" Yujin announced, spotting Jongin's movement.
Kyungsoo turned, his tired face lighting up with a smile that made Jongin's heart skip. "Good morning," he said softly. "Someone's feeling much better."
Dr. Minseok arrived a few minutes later, checking Yujin's vitals with efficient care. "The antibiotics are working well," he confirmed. "His fever's down to 99, and his hydration levels are improving. I'd like to keep him until this evening to finish the IV course, but then you can take him home."
"Thank you," Jongin said sincerely. "For everything."
Dr. Minseok shook his head with a smile. "No need for thanks. Any friend of Kyungsoo's is a priority for me." He glanced between them with knowing eyes. "Though I suspect 'friend' might be an understatement."
Kyungsoo cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks—a sight so unexpected that Jongin had to suppress a smile.
After Dr. Minseok left, Kyungsoo excused himself to make some calls, stepping into the hallway with his phone. Jongin took the opportunity to help Yujin with a light breakfast, relief washing over him at his son's returned appetite.
"Soo stayed all night," Yujin observed between bites of toast. "Like a real appa."
The innocent observation caught Jongin off guard. "Kyungsoo cares about you very much," he said carefully. "But he's not—"
"He could be," Yujin said with the simple certainty of a child. "He loves us."
Before Jongin could formulate a response to that startling declaration, Kyungsoo returned, a small duffel bag in hand.
"I had Joohyun stop by your apartment and pick up some things for both of you," he explained, setting the bag down. "Clean clothes, Yujin's favorite pajamas, your toothbrushes. She used the spare key you keep at the front desk."
The thoughtfulness of the gesture—considering their comfort when they hadn't even thought of it themselves—was so quintessentially Kyungsoo that Jongin felt his eyes sting with fresh emotion.
"You didn't have to do that," he said softly.
"I wanted to," Kyungsoo replied simply. "Just like I want to take you both home tonight when Yujin's discharged."
"Home?" Jongin questioned.
"My place," Kyungsoo clarified. "It's closer to the hospital if we need to come back, and there's more space for Yujin to recover comfortably." Seeing the hesitation on Jongin's face, he added gently, "It's just an offer. Whatever you're comfortable with."
Jongin glanced at Yujin, who was watching their exchange with interest. "What do you think, Yujinnie? Would you like to stay at Kyungsoo's house for a night or two while you get better?"
"Soo has a house?" Yujin asked, eyes widening. "Big?"
Kyungsoo chuckled. "Not very big. But there's a guest room with a nice view of the park, and I have a much better selection of dinosaur movies than the hospital."
That settled it for Yujin. "Yes, please!" he declared, already excited despite his recent illness.
Jongin hesitated only a moment longer before nodding. "Okay. Just until he's fully recovered."
The smile that spread across Kyungsoo's face was worth any lingering doubts. "I'll make the arrangements," he said, squeezing Jongin's hand briefly before stepping out again to make another call.
Left alone with Yujin, who was now happily drawing with crayons a nurse had brought, Jongin took a moment to absorb the events of the past twenty-four hours. From terror to relief, from vulnerability to connection, from resistance to surrender—all culminating in that kiss, that moment of perfect clarity when he'd finally allowed himself to acknowledge what had been growing between them for weeks.
Kyungsoo returned, his expression warm as he took in the domestic scene before him. "Everything's set," he said, settling into the chair beside Jongin. "Joohyun's handling my meetings for the rest of the week, and I've had the guest room prepared."
"You don't have to take time off work," Jongin protested. "We'll be fine on our own."
"I know you will," Kyungsoo said, his hand finding Jongin's on the edge of the bed. "But I want to be there. If that's okay with you."
The question was simple, but Jongin heard the deeper meaning beneath it—not just about the coming days of Yujin's recovery, but about all the days that might follow. About the possibility of a future where he didn't have to face challenges alone, where Kyungsoo would be there, steady and unwavering, by choice rather than obligation.
"It's okay with me," Jongin replied softly, turning his hand to lace his fingers with Kyungsoo's. "More than okay."
Across the bed, Yujin looked up from his drawing to see their joined hands. A smile of pure satisfaction spread across his face before he returned to his artwork—a picture of three figures standing together, the smallest one in the middle, holding the hands of the two larger ones on either side.
A family, drawn with the innocent clarity of a child who saw what was emerging even before the adults fully acknowledged it themselves.