bambam stares across the room at taehyung, who returns the gaze back full force, with daehyun standing in the middle twisting the hem of his shirt awkwardly from nervous habit.

“so you must be the other kid,” bambam breaks the awkward silence, raising a brow as taehyung shifts his weight onto his other foot, hands landing firmly on his hips.

“yeah, so what?” taehyung replies, tilting his head questioningly. “he was mine first. get your own.”

“excuse me?” bambam takes a step closer, and daehyun really doesn’t know what to do. his hoobaes are fighting over their ownership over him, and he isn’t even sure if he should feel flattered, or concerned.

because, they both have their own real fathers. 

daehyun is no one’s “dad.”

he doesn’t even have a girlfriend!

“he looks more like me,” bambam argues back, a little attitude leaking through his cool exterior. “you have baekhyun sunbaenim. daehyun sunbaenim is mine.”

“they’re both mine,” taehyun shrugs, shoving his hands inside his pockets. “daehyun sunbaenim is my dad, baekhyun sunbaenim is my mom. your argument is invalid.”

“what?” bambam’s voice cracks from overexcitement, stalking closer towards taehyung. “stop being greedy. you need to share.”

daehyun’s fingernails are digging into his palms, nearly hard enough to break skin. this is by far the single most awkward, strangest situation he’s ever been a part of since he’s debuted.

including that one time in kabukicho, with youngjae, and a little too much sake, and a one legged hooker with a baby monkey that shakes a tin cup under your nose for cash no less than 2000 yen.

or that one time with jongup, in the mbc studio’s public restroom, and jongup’s zipper somehow attaching itself onto daehyun’s earring. just. don’t. ask.

but, yeah. this has got to top that all.

because two boys are fighting over him. not even girls.

and daehyun feels a bit uncomfortable.

“he’s my dad,” bambam reiterates his point with a poke to taehyung’s chest, who merely raises his brows and keeps his ground.

“he’s mine.”

“fight, fight, fight, fight,” someone whispers from the corner of the room. and daehyun jerks his head towards the voice, only to find that kid with the abs, jimin, daehyun thinks, smiling sheepishly with a small camcorder in his hands.

“i like you,” jackson says in a loud voice that makes daehyun jump in surprise, crossing the length of the room to join jimin instead of standing behind bambam to “have his back.”

‘had he always been in here?’ daehyun’s eyes follow the chinese hoobae blankly as jackson and jimin fist pound. 

“dude, can we at least get some real action up in here?” jackson complains. “i did not drag myself all the way down here just to watch you two ruffle your fur like little pussy cats in heat.”

“yooooo,” jimin turns the camera towards jackson, raising his hand for a high five. “yeahhhhhh.”

a slow, steady ache is starting to pound behind daehyun’s temples. this is not what he had in mind when his juniors said they wanted to speak with him.

where are his members?!

“he’s mine. end of story,” bambam wrinkles his nose, a tone of finality evident in his voice. but taehyung is never one to back down.

“nope. wrong. mine.”

“you can share!” daehyun finally explodes, stomping his foot on the ground in a temper. “you can share! be siblings! i don’t care! just, i’ve had enough!”

taehyung and bambam both turn their attentions onto daehyun, who withers from the force of their gazes.  daehyun shrinks back into the far corner of the room, wishing he’d never said anything at all.

this is such a nightmare.

taehyung and bambam then stare at one another, both sizing each other up silently, before taehyung finally speaks.

“i guess we can share,” taehyung nods slowly, and bambam agrees.

“yeah, i guess that’d be cool.”

daehyun sighs with relief, visibly relaxing the tension in his muscles.

“call me hyung,” taehyung says, and bambam frowns.

“no.”

“i’m older than you.”

“american style.”

“you’re in korea.”

“yolo.”

“oh my god,” daehyun wheezes, pulling his hair in distress. “i’m done here. goodbye.”

and with that, the agitated sunbae storms out of the room.

“aw man, they didn’t even get physical,” jackson whines, and jimin pats a comforting hand on his shoulder.