Adventures in Parenthood

Jiyong and Seunghyun still have sex more often than most of the couples Jiyong knows. Soohyuk and his boyfriend are apparently fucking non-stop, but they're in that insatiable-new-lovers phase, which in Jiyong's experience only lasts two, maybe three years, tops. (Though it can stretch longer if you break up and get back together again.) Jiyong used to think it was a wasted opportunity to share a bed with Seunghyun-hyung without having at least one orgasm, but since Jihyun was born, Jiyong's come to truly appreciate the beauty of eight uninterrupted hours of sleep.

Tonight they somehow managed to get Jihyun to bed early (that is, at what is officially her bedtime), so naturally, once the kitchen is cleaned up and the last of the work emails answered and the emergency load of laundry folded (they have a housekeeper, but there was an incident with some chocolate milk and a favorite dress), Jiyong and Seunghyun hop into bed.

"Keep going," Jiyong moans, heels pressing into Seunghyun's back as he urges him along, "keep going, oh, fuck, come on, Hyung, I'm so close..." Seunghyun, having just come, is flagging. His hips stutter against Jiyong's as he languidly pumps his cock, his breath hot and damp across Jiyong's neck. "Hyung, right there, I –"

The door flies open, the bright light of the hallway suddenly falling across them, and Jihyun shrieks, "Nightmare!"

What saves their poor, sweet daughter from being forever emotionally scarred is their comforter. Jiyong and Seunghyun's comforter is an enormous, fluffy thing that Seunghyun declared entirely impractical when Jiyong bought it. It doesn't exactly fit with Seunghyun's preference for sleek bedroom furniture, but it makes their bed feel like a big, cozy nest for their little family, so Jiyong loves it. And he bought one with advanced heat-dispersion technology to prevent them from getting too hot when they snuggle under it. The advanced heat-dispersion technology is no match for the body heat produced by Jiyong and Seunghyun fucking, though, so it's currently balled up at the end of their bed, forming a very effective wall between their naked asses and their daughter's wide, frightened eyes.

Jiyong has perhaps never moved so fast in his life. “We’re playing!” he gasps as they scramble to get the covers over themselves. Seunghyun is able to hook a toe under the comforter and pull it some of the way towards them; Jiyong dives for it and throws it over the rest of them. As he turns himself around under the comforter he hears Seunghyun say, “Little Appa and I were just wrestling.”

When Jiyong pops out from under the covers – making sure his and Seunghyun’s crotches are completely out of sight – he finds Jihyun has moved a few steps closer, her teddy bear held tight in one arm. “I got scared,” she says quietly. Instantly they focus entirely on her, murmuring comfortingly.

“It’s okay, Jihyunie,” Seunghyun reassures as Jiyong says, “Don’t worry, you’re safe.” It’s only when Jihyun pads over to the bed and climbs on that Jiyong remembers the situation again. He reaches out and manages to prevent her from sitting on his lap, her usual spot after a bad dream.

“Appa,” she whines, trying to crawl over him. The comforter hides the shape of it, but Jiyong’s still hard. Grandma, he shouts in his head. Old wrinkly grandmothers, bats, tax forms, the documentary about the factory where they made my phone…

“No, you can’t sit in Appa’s lap right now,” he says, exchanging a glance with Seunghyun, who’s still tenting the comforter himself. Unhelpfully, Seunghyun smirks. “Sit in between Big Appa and me, okay?”

Jihyun gives Seunghyun a doubtful look and squeezes her bear. She turns back to Jiyong. “No Appa, I wanna sit in your lap! And I hug Mr. Moustache and Big Appa hugs all of us and we make an Appa-Jihyunie-Mr. Moustache sandwich!” This is their standard procedure for dealing with nightmares. Both Jihyun’s teddy bear Mr. Moustache and Jihyun herself seem equally upset by Jiyong’s refusal.

Frozen with guilt, Jiyong isn’t sure how to respond. He casts a desperate look Seunghyun’s way. “Um, tell us about your dream,” Seunghyun says, pulling Jihyun against his side as well as he can.

“I was in the park,” Jihyun says with a sniffle, “and I was all by myself, and then a monster came out of the slide with the ceiling, and it was chasing me, and it was chasing me so far, and I didn’t know where I was, and I was crying but it just kept chasing me and chasing me…” She tears up and buries her face in the top of her teddy bear’s head. “I wanna sleep in your bed,” she wails.

“Baby, no,” Jiyong says, rubbing her back. He can feel Seunghyun’s cum leaking out of his ass onto the sheets. “You gotta sleep in your own bed, okay?”

“I know it was scary,” Seunghyun says, “but it wasn’t real. You’re awake now and you’re safe. Little Appa and I would never let a monster chase you. You’ll be okay in your own bed.”

“Noooo,” she says, her voice high-pitched and watery. She begins to cry, and though Jiyong can tell it’s mostly for show, he’s still sympathetic. He scoots closer to her – and god, he’s leaving a trail behind him like a slug – and puts his arm around her in a sideways approximation of their normal family hug.

They let her cry for a few minutes; Seunghyun rubs her back and Jiyong strokes her hair and they both coo consolingly. When she’s finished, she takes a deep breath and sighs. For a few moments she looks around, chewing the inside of her cheek meditatively. “Appa, are you and Little Appa sick?” she asks Seunghyun.

“Sick?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” says Jihyun. “When I’m sick I don’t like to wear my pajamas either.”

Jiyong has a second to register exactly how sweaty and red-faced he and Seunghyun already are before blushing even more deeply. Seunghyun coughs to hide his surprise, which is fitting, at least. “Well, you can’t sleep in bed with sick people, right?” he says. “Like when you couldn’t go to your friend’s house because she had chicken pox?”

Jihyun makes a face. “I don’t want to miss my playdate tomorrow,” she concedes.

“Well, I think it’s time to go back to bed, then,” Jiyong says. “You’ll have Mr. Moustache with you, and Big Appa and I will be right down the hall.”

“Okay,” Jihyun sighs. She pets Mr. Moustache’s head and looks up at Jiyong. “Little Appa, will you come with me and do the monster check? Just in case?”

Jiyong throws Seunghyun a pleading look. “Why don’t I do the monster check instead this time,” Seunghyun says, “since Little Appa’s sick? Would that be okay?”

Jihyun gasps, scandalized. “No, Appa, you can’t. You don’t have the guardian angel! That’s how come Little Appa can be safe!”

Yet again Jiyong mentally kicks himself for letting his mom take Jihyun to that religious education class. His mother had assured him that there’d be no messages of intolerance, but she hadn’t warned him that Jihyun would come home ascribing religious powers to the tattoo on the back of Jiyong’s neck. Sometimes it helps make her feel safe, which is great; other times she does things like unbuckle her carseat and try to cover Jiyong’s eyes while he’s driving on the highway because she thinks he can’t get into car accidents. (Her pediatrician says it’s just the result of the stage of cognitive development she’s in – she’s still learning the relationship between cause and effect. It’s perfectly normal, if terrifying.)

“Okay,” Jiyong sighs. “I’ll take you. Why don’t you just – ah – why don’t you play with Big Appa for a minute and then we’ll go back to your room and I’ll tuck you in?”

“And do the monster check,” Jihyun reminds him.

“Yes, and do the monster check,” Jiyong says.

“Okay,” says Jihyun. She turns to Seunghyun. “What do you wanna play?”

“Um, let’s play… uh… oh, I know – peekaboo!” Seunghyun covers Jihyun’s eyes with his hands and in a flash Jiyong is out of the bed and in the walk-in closet.

“Appa, I’m too big for peekaboo!” Jiyong hears Jihyun say. “And that’s not even how you play!”

Jiyong finds an old t-shirt to wipe up his thighs and hurries into a pair of underwear. He doesn’t have a hard-on anymore, at least.

“Where’d Little Appa go?” Jihyun asks, voice rising in concern. “Is he okay?”

“I’m coming, baby,” Jiyong calls. “Just give me one second.” He grabs a robe and throws it on, making sure to tie the belt as tight as he can. When he re-enters the bedroom, Seunghyun is giggling fitfully, and Jiyong finally realizes the double entendre he just made.

“Are we gonna go now Appa?” Jihyun asks.

“Yeah, baby,” Jiyong says.

“Okay.” Jihyun sighs dramatically and starts making her way to the edge of the bed. “It smells funny in here,” she comments as her feet hit the floor.

Seunghyun loses it; he has to slam his face against his pillow to keep Jihyun from hearing his laughter. Even Jiyong, who minutes ago lost an orgasm in the worst way possible, can’t help but snicker.

Jihyun approaches him and raises her arms, Mr. Moustache dangling from one little fist. “Will you carry me?”

“All right,” Jiyong sighs.

He lifts Jihyun onto his hip; her free hand lands on his neck, but she immediately withdraws it, making a face and saying, “You’re sticky.”

Seunghyun’s laughter is leaking through all his best attempts to muffle it now. “Sorry, Jihyunie,” Jiyong says. “Let’s go.” He wonders if she’ll ever look back on this night and put together what she really walked in on, or if the whole thing will seem so inconsequential to her that it’ll just fade away. Jiyong can’t remember a time when he wasn’t aware of sex in at least some vague, abstract way, but the idea that her parents might be doing something she can’t do with them doesn’t seem to have ever crossed Jihyun’s mind.

When they reach Jihyun’s bedroom and Jiyong lays her down, the sight of his tiny daughter amidst her elaborate princess bed sparks an overwhelming surge of fondness, and Jiyong mostly forgets his frustration over his interrupted romp with Seunghyun.

Jiyong goes through the monster check routine, Jihyun looking on solemly: He throws up the frilly dust ruffle on her bed to look under it, steps into her closet, and peeks in her toy chest. As he goes, he calls out things like, “Are there any monsters in here? No monsters are allowed in here!” When he’s investigated every potential hiding space, he stands in the middle of the room and announces, “Any monsters in here have to come out right now or they’ll be in big trouble!” By now Jiyong does this without coaching, but Jihyun has choreographed and refined this whole procedure over the last year or so; apparently she believes that monsters, despite their evil desire to eat little girls, must still obey the rules laid out by fathers.

He waits a few seconds, then turns to Jihyun and shrugs. “No monsters,” he says.

“Thanks Appa,” Jihyun says.

Jiyong sits on the bed beside her, unable to resist stroking her hair. Sometimes he still can’t believe he gets to keep her. “Okay, baby,” he says, “time to go to sleep.”

Jihyun nods, then says, “Um, I’m really thirsty. Can you bring me a glass of water?”

“You really need a glass of water?”

“Yeah, I’m sooo thirsty,” Jihyun says, nodding for emphasis.

“Okay, I’ll come back in a few minutes with some water,” Jiyong says. He won’t, of course, but Jihyun always falls asleep before noticing. “Why don’t we say good night now? Sleep well, Jihyunie. Appa loves you,” he says in a soft, singsong voice. He leans forward and plants a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, Appa. Sleep well,” Jihyun replies. “Mr. Moustache too,” she adds, pulling him up to be more visible.

“Oh, right. Sleep well, Mr. Moustache.” Jiyong kisses the teddy bear’s forehead too, and makes to get up.

“Appa, wait – can I come with you to the kitchen?”

That nightmare must’ve been a doozy. Jiyong feels a pang of sympathy. “How about you stay here,” he says gently, “and hold onto something for me until I come back?”

“What?” Jihyun asks.

“This,” Jiyong says. He lifts her free hand (one is still holding onto Mr. Moustache) and kisses the center of her tiny palm, then curls her fingers into a little fist. “Hold on tight, okay?” He folds her arm so her fist is against her chest. “Hold it over your heart and it’ll protect you. Just make sure to keep your fingers closed.”

“Okay Appa,” Jihyun says. He can see her squeezing her fingers against her palm, determined not to lose his kiss.

“Close your eyes,” he says, leaning in for one last peck on her forehead. She does, her breathing already slowing. Jiyong goes to the door and turns off the lights, taking one last look at her by the glow of her nightlight before slipping out of the room.

His mindset shifts quickly enough: He steps out of his underwear as he walks back to his and Seunghyun’s bedroom. He doesn’t have his watch on, but he’s pretty sure he can finish up with Seunghyun and still get a solid six hours of sleep before Jihyun wakes up. She might even sleep a little later tomorrow because of her nightmare, and he doesn’t have to work, so maybe he could stretch it to six-and-a-half or seven hours…

“I got her down again. She really was pretty rattled,” Jiyong says as he enters the bedroom, locking the door behind him this time. Seunghyun is curled up under the comforter. “Do you think her anxiety has increased lately? I know Dr. Shim said her nightmares are normal, but I wonder if we should have her talk to someone just in case,” he continues as he returns his robe to the closet. He walks around the bed towards Seunghyun, who hasn’t moved and has his head turned away from Jiyong. He’s playing a dumb joke, it seems. “Come on, Hyung, I don’t want to be up too late,” Jiyong says.

But when he gets to Seunghyun’s side of the bed, his husband's eyes are closed and his face is smooth and blank. Jiyong stands there for a few seconds, waiting for Seunghyun to jump up and grab him in an attempt to scare him, but he doesn’t. He just lays there, his breathing even.

“Hyung?”

Nothing.

“Hyung…”

Still nothing. Is he actually asleep?

“Are you fucking kidding me? Hyung!”

Seunghyun still doesn’t wake up, and Jiyong is pissed now. He can’t believe Seunghyun would fall asleep while Jiyong was comforting their tiny frightened daughter when he knows Jiyong didn’t get to come!

Jiyong throws back the comforter, exposing his husband’s naked form, and climbs onto the bed next to him. When not even this jostling wakes Seunghyun, Jiyong takes the extreme but wholly necessary step of slapping him across the face. Not too hard, but hard enough.

“Huh?” Seunghyun’s eyes fly open, but by the time they focus on anything, Jiyong has his softened cock in his mouth. He glares up at Seunghyun, who looks back at him with confusion, but not displeasure.

Jiyong pulls his mouth off and starts jacking Seunghyun with his hand – he’s almost fully hard again, though Jiyong’s outrage hasn’t cooled. “You fell asleep,” he says, disgusted.

“I didn’t mean too!” Seunghyun insists as Jiyong licks a hot stripe from the base of his cock. “I just – uhm… I got…”

“I was so close, Hyung! So close!” Jiyong snaps. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be that close to coming and be interrupted by your daughter?”

“No.”

“No, you don’t. And then to come back in here and find you passed out?!”

“I’m really sorry,”

“Fucking right, you’re sorry,” Jiyong huffs. He lines himself up over Seunghyun’s cock and takes him in without further ado. One of Seunghyun’s hands finds his hip and the other his side, a thumb brushing over his nipple, and before long Jiyong’s arousal outweighs his indignation.

Not that he’s willing to let Seunghyun know that. “I work so hard,” he says as he grinds down.

“You do,” Seunghyun agrees.

“I didn’t thnk it was too much to ask to come on my husband’s cock every once in awhile…”

“It’s not,” Seunghyun says. He licks his hand and takes Jiyong’s cock in it, twisting his wrist to palm the head with each stroke.

Jiyong leans back, the heels of his hands pushed into the mattress for support, and fucks himself on Seunghyun’s cock. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit,” he moans. “Fuck, that’s good.” He has his angle just right, Seunghyun pressing deliciously against his prostate with every movement of his hips.

“Come on, Jiyongie,” Seunghyun says, his hand still working Jiyong’s cock. “Come on…” His voice is a low rumble; it sends a shiver through Jiyong that hits him just right. His mumbled swears turn into a wordless keen and he begins to shake, his legs giving out. Seunghyun grabs his hips with both hands and helps him along. He slides Jiyong down again and again until at last his cock twitches and spills, the cum arcing gracefully through the air before landing in a streak down Seunghyun’s chest.

Jiyong stills, riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm. When he’s recovered a bit, he starts halfheartedly grinding again on Seunghyun’s still-hard cock, but Seunghyun laughs and stops him. “It’s all right. Go to sleep. I’m okay.”

“Yeah?” Jiyong asks. “I can go a little longer…” But he’s already climbing off Seunghyun and slumping onto the bed beside him, and his voice is thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” says Seunghyun, mopping himself up with a tissue from the bedside table. He pulls the covers over them and rolls onto his side. “Thanks for tonight, by the way. For taking care of Jihyun.”

“Yeah, you weren’t very helpful,” Jiyong teases, though his eyes are closed so he can’t see Seunghyun’s reaction.

He can hear his smile when Seunghyun speaks, though. “Are you gonna divorce me?”

“Mmm, maybe,” Jiyong says. “Not because I had to put Jihyun to bed. Because you were asleep when I came back.”

“But I woke up.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I slapped you.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Uh-huh,” Jiyong nods against the pillow. He feels Seunghyun stroking his hair and drowsily reflects that even still, it makes him melt.

“Quite the night.”

“Continuing adventures in parenthood,” Jiyong says. He reaches out and manages to lay an arm over Seunghyun with his eyes still closed. “Stop talking. Let’s go to sleep.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jiyong curls into his husband’s side and quickly falls asleep.

Notes