Chapter Text
If Kun and Ten were considered heroes for how well they handled college—though uncle Johnny would often teasingly challenge that—then Yangyang is a god.
Yangyang did better than Kun in college, in a way that Yangyang is able to go to parties, socialize and go out as he pleases, unlike Kun who had to clear his schedule two weeks prior to a party to be able to attend. He also did better than Ten, in the regard that even if he ends up having more wild nights than intended, Yangyang still acts accordingly and ensures that he wouldn’t come to his classes with a hangover.
The amount of activities he involves himself in, his good grades, his special place in the varsity basketball team and his ability to balance these things with a social life, it’s truly a feat. When Sicheng had visited him and Renjun at their shared unit once, Sicheng had laughed fondly at Yangyang’s face, saying that he was a clear mix of his parents, evident in his college habits.
Overall, college was great for Yangyang. Really great. Fantastic. Terrific. Enjoyable.
Well, it’s all those things if Yangyang moved past the fact that he was overworked, stressed and undeniably tired.
His course was fun, really, it was something he’s genuinely interested in. Business Administration. The course itself may seem boring, specially when his friends were in a wide variety of courses—Donghyuck taking up Music Composition, Mark taking up Literature, Jeno in Architecture, Jaemin taking up his Pre-Med course and Renjun living his best life in Painting and Fine Arts—but Yangyang had always been recognized for his understanding of all the things related to business and praised for his business sense , and taking up the course just felt right.
But, even if he enjoys his course a lot, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t get tired. Sometimes, the projects get too difficult, the submissions pile up, the activities seem endless, and the days become longer for Yangyang, leaving him with only three hours of sleep.
Today was just not Yangyang’s day.
He had slept through his alarm and had to rush to his morning class. Thankfully, he was only a minute late, and his professor for that subject was lenient on him, seeing as it was the first time he’d been late to class.
Then, he had to miss out on lunch with his friends, because one of the activities he was handling had to undergo some final revisions and finalizations. The group was complete, something that had been getting increasingly hard to organize as they all progressively become busier. The group assured him it was fine, but Yangyang can’t help but feel sad for himself, not being able to make time for the friends he’s had and loved for so long.
Then, one of his professors also assigned a five-thousand word essay due in three days, about the importance of taxation, for two stakeholders: the government and the citizens, as homework.
Yangyang was stressed, to say the least.
After his last class, he heads straight to his shared apartment with Renjun, an apartment they rent out near campus. Even if their homes were both a train ride away, they opted to rent out an apartment together as roommates, in order to feel some semblance of independence. Yangyang and Renjun’s parents were supportive, thankfully.
Yangyang unlocks their door, and he doesn’t see Renjun anywhere. He checks his phone and sees that Renjun was still in class (they have each other’s schedule, for reference). Yangyang flops on their couch and muffles his shouts of frustrations into a throw pillow.
Yangyang picks up his phone and dials q number he’s very familiar with.
“Yang?” Ten picks up, voice crackling as the audio of the call warms up.
“Dada can we facetime? Is Baba there?” Yangyang asks.
“He’s here with me, we’re in the home office. I’ll turn on facetime, wait,” Ten says.
Yangyang opens his camera and immediately sees his parents’ smiling faces as he turns the phone to himself.
“Hi baby, how was your day?” Ten asks him, a smile still on his face.
Yangyang breathes out a shaky sigh, “not good.”
His parents frown, “you wanna talk about it?” Kun asks.
Yangyang lets a tear slip out, “I—I just feel so tired. I’ve been running on barely any fuel and I’ve still got so much to do and I can’t seem to keep up anymore. I even had to miss a group lunch today, Baba, you know I don’t like missing those.”
“Oh baby,” Ten says, “don’t cry. Everyone needs to rest, you know. You’re human. You’re bound to crash if you keep acting that way.”
“Your Dada is right, Yang. You should take better care of yourself, have more time for yourself.”
“But, I like doing the things I’m doing now—these things make me happy and I wouldn’t want to give up any of them,” Yangyang explains.
It’s true, though. Grades is obviously something important so he can’t let go of that, basketball is equally as important, because it’s the sport that Yangyang has been passionate about ever since he had been a kid, and obviously the activities he’s organizing is something he can’t let go of, either. The activities are meant to be fundraisers for scholarships that students can avail to study at Seoul National University, hence, it is for a great cause.
“We understand that, Yang,” Kun replies, “but you need to plan out your schedule more if you wouldn’t want to let go of the commitments you already have. This means you have to organize your time in such a way that there would be time left for yourself.”
Yangyang nods shyly, pursing his lips before saying, “I’m sorry, too.”
Ten’s eyebrow raises, as if to question him, “why are you saying sorry?”
“I haven’t been able to call much and check in with you because I’ve been so busy and college is kicking my ass and—”
Kun’s eyes widen, “Yang, baby, no—don’t worry about it. We know you didn’t mean to do it, okay? I’m a professor, I know college can be a bitch, so trust me when I say that your Dada and I understand.”
Yangyang nods again, chuckling softly, “okay.”
“Just be thankful your Baba doesn’t teach at your university, Yang,” Ten teases, “or else you’d feel like you’re in kindergarten all over again.”
Ten was smirking and Yangyang was laughing, and Kun had a wide grin on his face but he still ended up lightly slapping Ten’s arm.
“Hey,” Kun says out of nowhere, eyes brimming with excitement and a large grin on his face, “Yang, get ready. We’ll pick you up for dinner and we can eat at our favorite hotpot place, okay?”
Yangyang wipes his tears away, smiling brightly, “Okay, Baba. I’ll get ready.”
“Okay, baby—bye! We’ll be there in ten,” Ten says and Yangyang sees Kun rushing to grab his and Ten’s coats and Yangyang laughs, and Ten looks at Kun and beams, before dropping the call.
—
The three went out for dinner, and both Kun and Ten were coddling their son. As soon as Kun and Ten arrived at Yangyang’s apartment to pick him up, they immediately engulfed him in a warm embrace.
Now, they were in their favorite hotspot restaurant, seated in a booth near the window. With each parent at his side, he was doing better than before. Kun and Ten tell him stories from their jobs, and Yangyang vents out his frustrations with school.
Kun and Ten shared a similar expression of worry, and they glanced at each other.
“Yang, baby, do you ever feel pressured because of us?” Kun asks, tone gentle and coaxing, “be honest, okay?”
Yangyang’s eyes widened, “oh god no—you guys haven’t pressured me into doing anything I didn’t want to do. I don’t really feel pressure from you guys when it’s regarding school, I think it’s more of a me thing. I set very high expectations and standards for myself and I have to keep outdoing myself every time, so I get tired of the cycle.”
Kun and Ten’s eyes softened, their brown eyes filled with a sadness that Yangyang had grown to hate, but Ten was still quick to put a comforting hand over Yangyang’s hand.
“You need the rest though, you know that, right? You can’t do all the great things you’ve set out to do if you don’t rest. You’ll crash and burn, Yang,” Kun reminds him.
“Yeah, I kind of realized that now,” Yangyang replies, “I promise I’ll take better care of myself.”
“That’s all we can ever ask for, Yang,” Ten declares, “you may be all grown up now, making a name for yourself in college, but you’ll forever be our little sheep. We’ll always love and support you.”
Ten smiles at Yangyang, the corners of his eyes crinkling as the smile reaches his eyes.
“We’re always one call away, Yang,” Kun reminds him softly, voice soothing and it reminds him of the nights he had spent as a child listening to Kun sing him lullabies in various languages..
“I know,” Yangyang mumbles, “thank you. I love you both.”
“We love you too, Yang.”
—
Yangyang arrives at his shared apartment with Renjun to see Renjun painting silently in their living room, humming their favorite song to himself. Renjun notices Yangyang’s arrival immediately, and Renjun stands from the seat in front of his easel to sit on their couch.
Yangyang texted Renjun earlier about the situation, and he assumed Renjun would have slept already, so he was surprised to find Renjun in their living room.
“Hey,” Renjun breaks the silence, “how was dinner with uncle Kun and uncle Ten?”
Yangyang replies as he fixes his shoes on their shoe rack, “it was great. A much needed break for me.”
Renjun pats the empty space beside him, silently asking Yangyang to sit next to him.
Yangyang takes him up on the invitation, and sits flush against Renjun’s side. Renjun instantly brings him in for bear hug, Yangyang immediately relaxing against Renjun’s touch, his shoulders sagging, and his breath slowing down.
Yangyang settles right into the crook of Renjun’s neck, and Renjun hugs him tighter.
They spend the night hugging each other on the couch, exchanging worries and anxieties. Then, they moved to Yangyang’s bed, surrounded by all of Yangyang’s fluffy friends as they cuddled each other to sleep.