Sometimes, when Jun can hardly keep his eyes open, he wonders exactly what he’s done to deserve this endless exhaustion. Was it really his fault that the condom broke? Was it really his fault that Plan B just didn’t work? According to his baby mama, yes, it is all his fault. Never mind that she didn’t tell him about the baby until she dropped him off on Jun’s doorstep. Never mind that she didn’t want anything to do with the baby afterwards. Everything, according to Tiffany, is all Jun’s fault.
What a bitch. He’s allowed to think that, right? While Tiffany is out doing god knows what, he can swear to every single god of every single religion that he’s been doing his best to care for his infant son, but it’s not easy being a single parent to a baby who’s only a few months old. He didn’t even get the nine months to prepare himself for the job either — robbed of it because Tiffany just refused to return any of his texts.
Honestly, good riddance. He doesn’t need that kind of toxicity in his life, and neither does his son. What he really needs, though, is a nap. When was the last time he’s gotten a good night’s sleep? He can’t clearly remember, but it was definitely before Noah was unceremoniously dropped into his life.
Jun sighs when Noah’s sharp cries fill the room. He cradles the colicky baby, and though he knows it’ll be useless, he tries to find the source of his child’s distress. Hungry? No, he just fed Noah. Dirty diaper? Nope. Need to burp? He supports Noah against his shoulder and pats Noah gently on his back. Doesn’t seem like the baby needs to burp, though. Noah’s just being fussy for no reason, and though Jun wouldn’t trade his child for anything in the world, his frustration is growing together with his sleep deprivation.
He’s considering asking his mother for help, but he’ll only ask once he reaches his limit — and that limit is fast approaching — because if he has to sit through another one of his mother’s lectures… He’s a grown man, for Heaven’s sake! He doesn’t need to hear about the sins of premarital sex for the hundredth time.
Noah wails again when the doorbell rings. Jun curses whoever’s at the door — Noah had just settled down!
The bright smile that greets them is a stark contrast against the dark rings under Jun’s eyes. “Bad timing?” Lizzy asks, blinking in faux innocence.
“No, you’re just in time to hear Noah sing a song,” Jun retorts, too tired to add a sarcastic tone to his words. “What are you doing here, Lizzy?”
She sniffles and dramatically places a hand over her heart. “Did you forget about our lunch date?” she pouts. “I’m so hurt!” And then she giggles.
Jun counts the days in his head. Is it Friday already?
“Right, sorry, Lizzy,” he apologizes. “It’s just —” He shifts the crying Noah to his other shoulder.
“It’s fine,” she insists. “We can just order something on Uber Eats. You look like you’re about to fall over.” She stretches out her arms, and without much effort, steals Noah away from his father.
“You really need to clean,” she says, shimmying her way into the messy apartment. “But after a nap. Go sleep, Oppa. I can watch Noah for a bit.”
“It’s fin —” A yawn interrupts whatever Jun’s about to say, and Lizzy nudges him towards his bedroom.
“Go sleep!” she repeats. “Noah and I will be just fine!”
Jun doesn’t like Lizzy’s mischievous smirk — it’s that half-smirk that’s often accompanied by an evil laugh whenever she’s gaming — but he has no other choice. He’s too tired, and judging by the way Noah’s latched onto her — was Noah just fussy because he wanted to get a handful of boob? If that’s actually the case, Jun would’ve called Lizzy over earlier — he’s sure he’s left his son in good hands. It’s not the first time Lizzy has babysat, and Noah seems to like her, or at least her breasts.
Jun doesn’t dwell on his son or Lizzy and her breasts any longer, his bed a soft and cozy hug that immediately pulls him to slumber.
Jun doesn’t know how long he slept, but it’s like the nap didn’t do anything for his sleep deprivation, his limbs still heavy from exhaustion and his eyelids too heavy to lift. It’s also way too hot, for some reason — is he getting sick? He hopes with all his might it’s not covid.
The door creaks open, and someone — Lizzy, hopefully, because if it’s not her, then it’s some burglar, and that wouldn’t be good at all — tiptoes to his bedside.
“Jun?” she calls his name, her long hair tickling his nose.
“What?” The question comes out gruffer than he expected, his voice raspy.
“I think Noah’s hungry.”
“He just ate.”
“You slept away the whole afternoon,” she tells him nonchalantly. “Noah’s hungry. He kept on biting me.”
“Biting?” This peaks Jun’s interest, and he’s finally able to open one eye. “Biting what?” He has a good idea what, but he might as well get his daily fill of amusement by antagonizing her.
Sure enough, Lizzy’s face flushes a funny shade of red. “You know what,” she snaps. “He’s hungry, and I don’t want to mess up his formula.”
“Just follow the instructions,” Jun drawls with a dismissive wave of his hand. Had he the energy, he would have said something about Lizzy’s low self-confidence.
“Oppa…” Her whine is followed by a loud stomp.
Jun stares at her incredulously, a laugh threatening to spill from his lips. “Did you just stomp your foot? Like a child? I already have one, I don’t need another.”
She puffs out her cheeks and swats his hand away when he tries to pinch her face. “I don’t want to be accused of food poisoning your kid,” she says. “You also need to eat.”
She tries very unsuccessfully to pull Jun from the comfort of his bed, but one tug from Jun pulls her right against him. Her face is as bright as a tomato, and she’s too shocked to say anything.
Jun rests his chin on top of her head, keeping his grin out of her line of sight. “Just five more minutes.”
He feels her purse her lips against his chest as if she were about to remind him of his responsibility to the child waiting for food in the kitchen, but then she lays her ear against his heart — she’s always done that to calm her own heart. It’s cute, almost as cute as the fact that she wears a perfume called Pure Poison — she’s wearing it now, and luckily, she’s taken his advice on not using too much. The warm scent of her perfume and the warmth from her body are enough to lull Jun back to sleep.
Noah chooses then to cry.
Lizzy’s up faster than Jun, fast enough that she probably gave herself whiplash. “I’ll take care of Noah, you take care of that formula.” She doesn’t wait, or rather can’t wait, for Jun’s answer because Noah cries again in that moment.
She leaves her perfume in her wake, and Jun wonders how long it’s been since he’s been laid. Her ass had looked really nice leaving his room.
It doesn’t take long for Jun to leave his bed, but by the time he’s entered the kitchen, Lizzy is already at the final verse of that famous Dolly Parton song.
“Don’t worry, Lizzy,” Jun teases her once she’s done belting. “No girl named Jolene is going to take me away, can’t promise about any other girl though.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “Maybe it’s Noah I don’t want taken from me,” she retorts, and then she smiles at the baby, taking his tiny hand in hers. “You’re just so gosh darn precious, aren’t you, Noah? So, unlike your jerkwad of a daddy.”
Noah has the audacity to laugh at her joke. What a traitor.
Jun snorts. “Gosh darn?” He measures the exact amount of formula before dumping the powder into the baby bottle already filled with water. “You’ve been listening to too much country music, Lizzy. Maybe tone it down a bit.”
She sticks her tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes.
“Hope you’re okay with Malaysian food,” she says as he shakes the bottle. “I had a craving for Hokkien mee. Got you short ribs, though.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Still shaking the bottle, he walks over to the fridge. “It comes with rice, right?” He scans the contents of his fridge for a moment, but when he can’t find what he’s looking for, he turns to glare at his friend. “Lizzy, what happened to the rest of my kimchi?”
Suddenly, his friend is looking at everything except him and begins singing very off-key, “We don’t talk about —”
“Elixyvette Wong! Did you finish my kimchi? It should’ve lasted two more days!”
“I was hungry! You’re lucky there’s still food on the table for you!”
“Where does all the food you eat even go?” he asks, handing her the baby bottle.
Lizzy shrugs the shoulder Noah isn’t resting against. “Maybe I’m hiding a bunch of fat under these sweatpants.” She adjusts Noah into an easier position to feed him.
“Unlikely.” Jun plops onto the chair next to her and begins eating, too hungry to even think about heating up the food. “More likely that it’s all going towards your boobs. They seem a bit bigger than usual.” He really does like the way her cheeks flush pink.
“Been doing a bit of staring, have you?” she accuses him.
“Hard not to when Noah seems to keep grabbing onto one or the other.”
It’s like roses are blooming on Lizzy’s cheeks, her cheek flushing brighter when Noah begins to pull at the collar of her shirt.
“See when a guy does that, he gets slapped,” Jun says. “When a baby does that —”
“A baby doesn’t know any better,” Lizzy argues. She sets the bottle on the table and tries to get Noah to release his hand. He’s starting to stretch her a shirt a bit too much.
Jun decides to help her then, taking his handsy child away from her, but the moment Noah is on his father’s lap, he begins to fuss, reaching his stubby arms towards Lizzy.
“I guess having boobs automatically makes you Noah’s favorite.”
Lizzy is smiling that mischievous half-smirk of hers again. “How peeved would you be if Noah’s first word was Lizzy instead of dada?”
“Ha! The day that happens, I’ll drop down on one knee and propose to you.”
“Maybe that’s my plan,” Lizzy muses, twirling a lock of her hair. “Steal the daddy’s heart by first stealing the baby’s. Slow and steady wins the race, you know?”
“Good luck with that.”
And the two burst out laughing. Noah, however, is in no mood to be ignored and does the exact opposite of laughing, wailing once again.
“Such a drama king,” Lizzy coos. She glances at the clock. Almost eight. “I guess I’ll get him bathed and put him to bed.” She lifts Noah up and places him on her hip. “Take your time eating, Oppa.”
This time, Jun blatantly stares at her ass, swaying as she leaves the kitchen with his baby on her hip. He wonders if she’ll scream out his name when she’s under him.
He shakes his head. Damn, he really needs to get laid.
She’s singing the award-winning BTS song, Butter, when he trudges into the bathroom. She’s kneeling next to the tub, and for some reason, she’s shirtless. Jun raises an eyebrow at the sight of her lacy bra, and he wonders if she’s wearing matching underwear.
“Eyes up here, Oppa.”
Great, she’s glaring. Hm, can he get her blushing again? Wait, can she even blush and glare at the same time?
“If you didn’t want me staring,” he starts, “you should’ve kept your shirt on.”
Turns out that, yes, Lizzy can blush and glare at the same time.
“You have your delightful son to thank for that. Splashed a bunch of water on me. My shirt’s soaked.”
Ah, that’s why the shirt was in the sink.
“Could I borrow one of yours?”
He’s about to tease her a bit, but the goosebumps on her arms are as clear as day when she wraps a towel around the baby. By the time Jun returns with one of his sweaters, Lizzy already has Noah nice and dry and in a new diaper.
“Thanks.” She trades Noah for the sweater and gives a little content sigh once it’s on her, wrapping her arms around herself.
It’s a very nice sight for Jun, Lizzy in his clothes.
“You okay?” She cocks her head to the side, her brow furrowed with worry. She places her hand on his forehead and then on hers, pouting when she’s unable to tell if his temperature is higher than usual. She stands on her tip toes, but she’s not tall enough, so she puts her hands on Jun’s cheeks and brings his face lower, resting her forehead against his. “I think you might have a fever…”
He shrugs. “Been a bit too tired lately. Shouldn’t be anything major.”
She’s not convinced, taking the baby from him again. At this point, Jun’s starting to be envious of his own child.
“Go to sleep,” she orders, nudging him out of the bathroom. “I’ll check on you once Noah’s sound asleep.”
He’s honestly too tired to argue.
He wakes up some time later with a wet rag on his forehead. He wonders if Lizzy has already gone home, feeling quite guilty she’s spent her whole Friday looking after him and his son.
He stretches, feeling much more rested than he did earlier, almost restless. He decides to go check on his son, only hearing Lizzy’s favorite Christmas song when he opens the nursery door. The song about two old lovers meeting by chance in a grocery store is on loop, blasting through the earphones of Lizzy’s old iPod, and Noah is sleeping the night away. Cozy and comfy in his cradle.
The same can’t be said about Lizzy. The way she’s leaning her head against her arm on the rocking chair can’t be comfortable at all, but somehow she’s asleep.
Jun’s careful not to make a sound, holding down the play button and turning off her iPod, before scooping her up in his arms. She’s lighter than he remembers — he makes a note to ask her about her thyroid medication and whether her museum job is working her too hard.
“Oh, hey,” she murmurs, still half-asleep. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s snuggling her head into the crook of his neck. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” he answers, closing the door behind him. “The wonders good rest can do for the body.”
“Mm, that’s good. I should probably get going then.” But she doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave his arms, her lips brushing against the skin of his neck. She’s definitely still half-asleep.
“Stay the night,” Jun suggests, offers. He sits on his bed, dropping her to his lap, before pulling her to lay with him. “Stay the weekend.”
She shifts until her ear is against his heartbeat, and he throws the blanket around them.
“Don’t overthink things,” he murmurs, taking her hand.
She shifts again, still holding his hand but now also holding his gaze. Her eyes seem to scour for something. A hint of nervousness maybe? Or maybe the extent of how serious he is?
If he tells her now that he’s fallen for her — that he’d fallen for her and he hadn’t even known it — would she even believe it?
“Do you still like me?” he asks instead. She had confessed a couple of years ago when he barely knew her.
She’s listening to his heartbeat again. “Yes — well, actually, no.”
Can she hear his heart stop?
“I think I love you,” she whispers so quietly that Jun almost doesn’t hear.
He squeezes her hand.
“Your heart is always so steady. I can never tell when you’re nervous.”
Jun raises an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know when I’m nervous?”
She shrugs. “The person who falls in love first is always the one at a disadvantage.”
He’s sure she got that line off of some Asian drama series. If not, then he’ll have to have a talk with whatever friend told her something so depressing.
“I don’t want our friendship to be ruined,” she finally says after a moment of silence.
“You’re worrying too much,” he tells her. He tips her chin upwards to see her face, to see the worry watering her eyes and pulling at her lips. “There’s nothing that can ruin it, nothing that can ruin us.”
It sounds super lame, super corny, but it gets her to smile, and he rather likes it when she smiles.
And then, he kisses her, and she kisses back.
When their lips part, he tells her a secret. “I think,” he says, “I love you, too.”
This time, she kisses him, but before he can kiss her back, Noah’s cry sounds throughout the apartment.
“I’m starting to think Noah wants you all to himself,” Jun laughs.
“Well, I am his favorite,” Lizzy smiles. “You want to get him or shall I?”
“Mm, I’ll go. I barely got to hold him the whole day.”
Lizzy giggles. “Noah’s not the only one who has to learn to share.”
“Sharing denotes a sense of equal proportion, so tell me, when exactly do I get to grab your boobs?”
She doesn’t even try to refrain from blushing this time, and she shoves him off the bed. “You’ll have all the time for that once Noah goes back to sleep.”
They share another kiss before Jun goes off to tend to his son, the fatigue finally lifted from his shoulders.
Kyorinrin's Writing Dump 