Nine Months, Surprises, and Baby Kicks
Pairing: Bang Chan x Wife!Reader Word Count: ~6,200 words Genre: Wholesome, Romantic, Family, Fluffy Summary: Reader is nine months pregnant and staying with Bang Chan’s family in Australia. Chan decides to surprise his members by bringing them to meet his family—completely unaware he has a wife. Chaos, laughter, and heartwarming moments ensue as the boys discover the pregnancy, feel the baby kicking, and bond with their soon-to-be newest member. Full of romance, family warmth, and adorable baby kicks, this story is a love-filled slice-of-life you won’t forget.
——————————————————————————————————
The house smelled faintly of eucalyptus and fresh bread, a comforting blend that always made you feel at home. Chan’s mother bustled in the kitchen, humming softly as she checked the oven. His father sat at the dining table, reading the paper, occasionally glancing up to ask how you were feeling.
“I’m fine,” you assured for the fifth time that morning, one hand resting on your swollen belly. The baby gave a gentle nudge as if to contradict you, and you laughed softly. “Well… mostly fine.”
Chan’s mum appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Nine months is no joke, sweetheart. Sit as much as you need. Don’t go straining yourself.”
You smiled, touched by her fussing. From the moment you and Chan had married, his parents had welcomed you as if you’d always been part of the family. And now, with their first grandchild almost here, they treated you like something precious.
“I can’t wait for him to walk through that door,” his mum said with a wistful sigh. “My boy, home again. And with his group too, you said?”
You nodded, rubbing your stomach. “Yes. He wanted them to see where he grew up. To meet all of you.”
Her eyes twinkled knowingly. “And to meet you properly, I imagine.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks. Though the marriage had been private, his family had been there from the start. They knew how much you loved each other, how Chan’s devotion was unshakable. But his members? They had no idea.
Chan’s dad folded his paper, his smile warm. “He’s been carrying this secret for a while. They’ll be shocked, but I know they’ll be happy for him. For both of you.”
You exhaled slowly, nerves fluttering in your chest. You trusted the boys—Chan spoke of them like brothers—but the thought of their surprise still made your heart race.
The baby shifted again, and you winced, pressing a hand against your side.
“There, there,” his mum murmured, hurrying over. “Let me get you some tea. Chamomile. It’ll help.”
You sank back into the couch cushions, grateful. The truth was, you were exhausted. Nine months of carrying, waiting, dreaming—it was beautiful, yes, but heavy too. Chan had called last night, promising he’d be home soon, that he couldn’t wait another second to see you.
You clung to those words now, heart aching with love.
Hurry, Christopher, you thought, resting your head against the cushion. We’re waiting for you.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles above the Pacific, Chan couldn’t stop checking his phone.
The flight to Sydney was long, but the boys were too excited to complain. Felix had been bouncing in his seat since takeoff, and even I.N—normally the one to nap through anything—kept glancing out the window, waiting for the moment the plane dipped low enough to see home.
Chan watched them with a small smile, headphones tugged around his neck. He should have felt exhausted. Their last schedule had been brutal, their performances draining. But here, with the cabin buzzing with his members’ energy and the thought of what awaited them once they landed, his heart felt too full to be tired.
They thought this trip was just about family. Meeting his parents, catching up with relatives, letting Chan show them a little of where he grew up. And that was true, mostly. But tucked carefully away in his chest was the bigger surprise—the one he had guarded for months.
He had a wife. He had you. And in just a few weeks—if not sooner—he’d be a father.
He pressed his thumb against his phone, looking at the message you’d sent before he boarded:
“Baby’s been restless today. I think they know you’re coming. I can’t wait to see you.”
His chest tightened in that familiar, warm way. Even after all this time, the thought of you—your voice, your laugh, the way your hand instinctively sought his in sleep—could undo him.
“Hyung,” Seungmin’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re smiling at your phone again. Girlfriend?”
Eight pairs of curious eyes turned toward him.
Chan cleared his throat and slipped his phone into his pocket. “Just… family stuff.”
“Family stuff,” Han repeated, suspicious. “That grin was not ‘family stuff,’ hyung.”
Changbin leaned over the aisle with a smirk. “Yeah, spill it. What’s got you grinning like a teenager?”
Chan shook his head, amused. They weren’t wrong, but he wasn’t ready to spill—not yet. “You’ll see soon.”
By the time they landed, the sun was high, the air warmer than Seoul had been. Felix’s eyes lit up as he breathed in deeply, as if every molecule of Australian air belonged to him. “Home,” he whispered, and Chan’s heart swelled.
The boys piled into a van, luggage rattling in the trunk. Felix was in the front, pointing out landmarks with excitement, while Hyunjin and Han fought for window space. It was noisy, chaotic, and so achingly familiar. Chan sat back, phone in hand, and sent you a quick text:
“On our way. Don’t overdo it, yeah? I’ll be there soon.”
Your reply came quickly:
“I’m not moving from the couch. Baby won’t let me. Hurry.”
He chuckled softly, which only made I.N raise an eyebrow at him.
The house was just as he remembered it—white walls, a porch swing, a garden his mom still tended carefully. His parents were waiting outside, smiling wide as the boys spilled out of the van and bowed politely, all warmth and eagerness.
“Welcome, welcome!” his mother said, gathering Felix into a hug first, then Hyunjin, then the others. His dad clapped shoulders, laughed, and ushered them in like they’d been here a thousand times.
The members looked around with wide eyes, charmed by the cozy house, the framed family photos, the faint smell of something baking in the kitchen.
And then, as shoes came off and bags were stacked by the door, a soft sound carried from the living room.
“Chan?”
Your voice.
He froze for just a heartbeat, then turned, heart pounding. And there you were—hair pulled into a loose bun, one of Chan’s oversized shirts stretched gently over your rounded belly, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the day.
The boys went silent.
“Who…” Jisung started, blinking between you and Chan.
You smiled, tired but glowing, one hand resting instinctively on your belly. “Hi,” you said, voice soft. “You must be the boys.”
Seungmin’s mouth dropped open. “Hyung—”
Chan’s ears turned red, but his grin spread helplessly as he crossed the room and leaned down to kiss your forehead. His hand slid protectively to your side, fingers brushing over where your shirt pulled tight over your bump. “Everyone,” he said, pride threading every word, “this is my wife.”
Dead silence. Then—
“WHAT?!”
The room exploded. Han nearly dropped his backpack, Felix let out a noise that was half gasp, half squeal, Minho blinked like he’d misheard, and Changbin’s jaw practically hit the floor.
“You’re married?!” Hyunjin demanded, dramatic as ever.
“And—hyung, she’s—” Seungmin gestured wildly at your belly. “You’re having a baby?!”
“Hold on, hold on—” Changbin stepped forward, pointing at Chan like he was accusing him of a crime. “You kept this from us?! For how long?”
Your laugh bubbled out before you could stop it. Their shock was so genuine, so endearing. You reached out a hand and wiggled your fingers. “Yes. I’m due any day now.”
The members gaped.
Chan slipped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. “I wanted to tell you guys sooner,” he admitted, “but… I wanted it to be special. So—surprise.”
Felix was the first to recover. With a squeal, he bounded forward, crouching slightly as if afraid to startle you. “Oh my God. You’re—hyung, you’re gonna be a dad.” His eyes were already misty. “Can I—?”
You nodded, amused, and guided his hand gently to your belly. The moment he touched you, the baby kicked.
Felix gasped so loudly that everyone else rushed forward, desperate not to miss out.
And just like that, the room turned into a flurry of laughter, awe, and hesitant touches. One by one, they felt the soft thump of the baby’s tiny foot or hand. Han yelped dramatically when he felt a strong kick, while I.N’s face softened into something almost reverent.
“Hyung,” Seungmin said quietly, eyes wide, “this is… wow.”
Changbin hesitated longer than the rest, arms crossed, brows furrowed. But when you smiled and held your hand out to him, he sighed, muttering, “Fine, but if they kick too hard, I’m suing.”
The baby nudged under his palm, firm but gentle. Changbin froze. His tough expression cracked, and he let out a low laugh, almost disbelieving. “Wow… that’s… that’s really something.” His voice softened without him meaning it to.
Chan looked around at his boys—their amazement, their joy—and then down at you, your hand resting over Felix’s, the baby moving beneath. His throat tightened. This was everything he’d dreamed of: family colliding, worlds blending, love expanding beyond what he thought was possible.
You leaned into him, whispering so only he could hear, “Told you they’d take it well.”
Chan pressed a kiss to your temple, his chest full to bursting. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Better than I ever hoped.”
The living room was buzzing with energy, voices overlapping as the boys settled into the surprise that had landed on them like a thunderclap.
“You’re married.” Hyunjin was still staring at you as though repeating it would somehow make it sink in faster. “Hyung, you’re married. And you’re having a baby. That’s—this is—” He pressed both hands to his face and let out a dramatic groan. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”
“Because he likes to keep secrets,” Han accused, though his grin was betraying his tone. “Hyung, this is next level.”
Chan just laughed, sheepish but glowing. His arm stayed wrapped around your waist as though afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “I wanted you guys to focus on the group. I didn’t want my personal life to distract from our work. But… I also didn’t want to hide forever.” He looked down at you, his voice softening. “And she’s… everything. You both are.”
Your cheeks warmed. Even after years together, his sincerity could unravel you in seconds.
Felix, meanwhile, was still kneeling in front of you like you were royalty. His hand hovered just above your bump as though he couldn’t believe what he’d felt. “The baby actually kicked,” he whispered, awe heavy in his voice. “That’s my little niece or nephew in there.”
“Not your baby, Lixie,” Minho deadpanned, though his eyes softened when you chuckled. He lingered back, watching with a quiet sort of fondness that made your heart ache. You’d always known how much these boys loved each other, but seeing them here, standing in your living room, meeting the piece of Chan’s life they hadn’t known about—it was overwhelming in the best way.
“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl yet?” I.N asked shyly, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his hoodie.
You shook your head, smiling. “We wanted to keep it a surprise.”
Han gasped, clutching Hyunjin’s arm. “Plot twist! What if the baby looks exactly like me?”
The entire room erupted in laughter, even Chan. He pulled you closer, his cheek brushing your hair. “Not happening,” he teased. “But thanks for volunteering, Ji.”
Later, after the chaos had settled into a softer hum, you found yourself curled on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs. The boys had scattered—some helping your mother-in-law in the kitchen, some exploring the backyard, some simply scrolling through their phones and recovering from jet lag.
Chan sat beside you, his arm stretched across the back of the couch, thumb idly brushing your shoulder. His eyes were soft, studying you like you were the only person in the room.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, tilting his head toward you.
You nodded, though your hand pressed absently against your belly. “Baby’s a bit restless. I think all the excitement is contagious.”
Chan’s gaze softened further, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your bump. “Hey, little one,” he whispered, voice low and soothing. “Calm down for Mum, yeah? We’re all here now.”
The baby kicked as if in response, and Chan laughed against your stomach, the sound rumbling into you. The intimacy of it—his breath, his warmth, his words—sent a shiver down your spine.
“Chan,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his curls. “You’ve been hiding this side of yourself for too long. They should’ve known earlier.”
He lifted his head, eyes shining. “I know. But… I liked that this part of me was just ours for a while. Our little secret world. Now they’re part of it too. And honestly?” He glanced around the room, watching Han and Felix argue over who would be the ‘best uncle.’ His smile softened. “It feels right.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, heart warm.
Dinner that night was noisy in the best way. His mom had cooked enough to feed an army, insisting that growing boys and a pregnant woman both needed “real food.” The table was crowded with dishes—roast chicken, vegetables, warm bread, and even pavlova for dessert.
The members sat around the table, wide-eyed, clearly enchanted by the homeliness of it all.
“This is so different from dorm life,” Hyunjin said, spoon halfway to his mouth.
“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed. “Food that didn’t come from delivery apps? Feels illegal.”
You laughed, and Chan squeezed your knee under the table, a small grin curving his lips.
Throughout the meal, the boys kept sneaking glances at you. Not out of rudeness, but wonder. Every time you shifted, every time your hand smoothed over your stomach, someone’s eyes followed with quiet awe.
Felix was glued to your side, fussing whenever you shifted in your seat. Han kept firing off questions—“When did you two even get married? How did no one notice? Does the baby have a name yet?”—while Hyunjin leaned dramatically over the table, demanding to know if he was destined to be the “favorite uncle.”
You laughed until your cheeks hurt, answering what you could, letting Chan field the rest.
Changbin, was quieter than usual. He ate heartily, sure, but his eyes kept flicking between you, Chan, and your belly. Finally, halfway through the meal, he set down his chopsticks and crossed his arms.
“Hyung,” he said seriously, “you realize this means you’re officially old now, right?”
The table erupted in laughter.
Chan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Thanks, Bin. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”
But Changbin’s smirk softened after a moment. “Seriously though… congrats. Both of you. It’s… big.” His ears went pink, and he quickly shoved another bite of food into his mouth before anyone could tease him.
It wasn’t until dessert that the baby made its presence truly known.
You had just lifted a forkful of pavlova when the baby delivered a particularly strong kick, so sudden that you gasped and pressed a hand to your side.
Instantly, every conversation at the table stopped.
“Are you okay?” Chan’s hand was at your back in a second, eyes wide with concern.
You nodded quickly, laughing breathlessly. “Yes, yes, just—baby’s saying hi.”
Han dropped his fork and scrambled up. “Again?! Where? Can I—”
“Me first!” Felix nearly shoved him aside.
It turned into a ridiculous queue, each boy waiting his turn to press a tentative hand to your stomach, eyes lighting up whenever the baby moved beneath their palm. Even Minho, who had been the most reserved, eventually gave in, his expression softening when he felt the flutter of a kick.
“Strong one,” he murmured, glancing at Chan with a half-smile. “Takes after you.”
Chan’s throat tightened. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him, and pressed a kiss into your hair.
In that moment—surrounded by laughter, family, and the quiet rhythm of new life—he thought his heart might burst.
Later that night, when the house had gone quiet and the boys were sprawled in guest rooms, Chan guided you into the bedroom you shared at his parents’ place. He helped you ease onto the bed, fussing with pillows until you were comfortable.
“Chan,” you said, amused. “I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”
He gave you a mock glare. “You’re carrying my whole world inside you. I’m allowed to be careful.”
Your chest warmed. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “You were amazing today. Seeing you with them, with your family… it felt so right.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, his other hand smoothing over your bump. His thumb brushed gentle circles against the fabric of your shirt. “I was terrified,” he admitted quietly. “That they’d be upset I didn’t tell them sooner. That they’d feel like I kept them out.”
“They adore you,” you whispered. “They adore this baby already. You saw their faces.”
He nodded, leaning down until his forehead rested against yours. “Yeah. I did. And I’ve never been more grateful in my life.”
You kissed him softly, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that spoke of years of love and the promise of more to come.
When he pulled back, his eyes shone with emotion. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of,” he whispered. “You and this baby—you’re my home.”
You pressed a hand to his cheek, heart aching with love. “And you’re mine.”
Outside, the night hummed with cicadas. Inside, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you felt safe, cherished, whole.
Morning light spilled through the curtains, painting the living room gold. You padded in slowly, one hand braced on your lower back, the other cradling your belly. At nine months, every step felt deliberate, your center of gravity shifted by the tiny person inside you.
The boys were already awake—or at least, some of them. Felix was sprawled on the rug with I.N, teaching him a card game. Seungmin and Minho were in the kitchen, bickering about toast. Han lay draped over the couch like a starfish, half-asleep, while Hyunjin sat cross-legged on the floor sketching something in a notebook.
The moment they noticed you, every head turned.
“Good morning!” Felix chirped, springing to his feet. “Do you need anything? Water? Breakfast? A chair?”
You laughed softly, amused by his enthusiasm. “I’m okay, thank you. Just… taking it slow.”
Hyunjin dropped his pencil, already moving to help you toward the couch. “Careful, no rushing,” he fussed. “Chan hyung would kill us if we let you trip.”
Minho snorted from the kitchen. “He’d kill you specifically.”
You sank onto the couch with relief, smiling at their protectiveness. It was endearing—these boys who spent their lives on stage, suddenly transformed into anxious uncles-in-training.
“Where’s Chan?” you asked, glancing around.
“Went for a run,” Seungmin answered. “Said he needed to clear his head.”
Of course he had. Running was his way of centering himself. You rested a hand on your bump, picturing him jogging through familiar streets, music blasting in his ears, thinking of you and the baby with every stride.
Not ten minutes later, the baby gave a strong kick—so sudden you gasped.
“Are you okay?!” Felix yelped, cards scattering everywhere.
You exhaled, rubbing your side. “Yes, yes. Just… baby gymnastics.”
“Baby gymnastics?!” Han bolted upright, eyes wide. “That’s not normal, right? Babies don’t do gymnastics in there!”
I.N shook his head. “They move a lot at the end, hyung.”
Han looked unconvinced. “But what if—”
Before he could finish, the baby rolled again, harder this time. You winced, leaning back into the cushions.
Changbin, however, took the crown for drama. He sprang up, eyes wide. “This is it! The baby’s coming! Somebody boil water or—or get towels or—”
“Bin,” Minho deadpanned, “we’re not in a drama. Sit down.”
But he didn’t. He paced instead, muttering to himself. “Why do I feel nervous? I’m not the one having a baby. Oh my god, what if something goes wrong—”
“Changbin,” you interrupted, squeezing Minho’s hand as the cramp passed. You offered him a tired smile. “Breathe. I’m fine. It’s just a false alarm.”
He stopped in his tracks, blinking at you. Then, awkwardly, he cleared his throat and sat back down, though his knee bounced relentlessly. “False alarm or not, I’m not sleeping tonight,” he muttered.
Hyunjin hovered nervously. “Should we—uh—call Chan?”
“No,” you assured, though your voice was breathless. “It’s fine. Really. They’re just… active today.”
But that didn’t stop the boys from crowding closer, eyes wide, waiting for another movement.
And when it came—a flutter that rippled beneath your skin—Felix’s jaw dropped. “That’s insane,” he whispered. “It’s like they’re saying hi.”
“Or plotting their grand escape,” Han muttered, though he leaned in eagerly, his palm pressed against your belly.
You chuckled, despite the discomfort. “Would you like to feel?” you offered, looking around the room.
It was as if Christmas had come early. One by one, they took turns, hands tentative and reverent. Seungmin’s lips parted when he felt the kick. I.N’s eyes went soft, wonder written across his face. Even Minho, trying to mask his emotions, lingered longer than the others, his thumb brushing absent patterns against your shirt.
By the time Chan returned, jogging shoes still tied, the living room looked like a scene from a sitcom—seven boys huddled around you, hands pressed against your stomach, expressions ranging from awe to panic, while Changbin still sat a little stiffly, muttering about towels and water just in case.
He stopped in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “Uh… what’s going on here?”
“Your child is trying to break free,” Han declared.
“They’re just moving a lot,” you corrected quickly, shooting Chan a reassuring smile.
But he was already crossing the room, protective instincts kicking in. He crouched in front of you, brushing your hair back gently. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you whispered, touched by the worry in his eyes.
The baby kicked again, and his palm instinctively pressed against your side. His face softened immediately. “Hey, little one,” he murmured, voice warm. “Take it easy on Mum, yeah?”
The boys watched in silence, something tender passing between them and their leader. For all their teasing, they knew how much you meant to him, how much this child would change his world.
The rest of the day was lighter. With the initial shock fading, the members seemed to slip comfortably into their new roles as honorary uncles.
In the backyard, Felix insisted on teaching you “gentle” stretches, though it mostly turned into him fluttering around like an anxious butterfly. “Don’t bend that way, no, sit like this—it’s better for your back.”
Hyunjin offered foot massages, claiming he’d watched enough YouTube tutorials to qualify as an expert. You laughed so hard you nearly cried when he got halfway through before realizing he was tickling you instead.
Han attempted to serenade your belly with improvised lullabies, complete with dramatic high notes. The baby responded with a kick so strong that everyone burst out laughing.
“See?” Han puffed out his chest. “They like me best already.”
“Or they want you to shut up,” Minho retorted.
Even Seungmin, normally the voice of reason, ended up crouched on the floor, reading a children’s book in an unusually soft tone. I.N leaned over his shoulder, wide-eyed, whispering, “That was really good, hyung. You’ll be a natural uncle.”
You watched it all from your seat, heart swelling. These boys—these young men who had grown alongside Chan—were embracing not just him, but you, and the little life you carried.
That evening, though, things took a turn.
You were in the kitchen with Chan, watching him chop vegetables while you leaned against the counter. The baby had been restless all day, and your body was sore.
Then a sharp cramp rippled through you.
You froze, hand gripping the counter.
Chan noticed instantly, knife clattering onto the board. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Just… a cramp,” you breathed, though your voice wavered.
The sound must have carried, because within seconds the rest of the boys appeared, faces pale.
“Is it time?!” Hyunjin squeaked.
“Do we call an ambulance?!” Han yelped.
Felix looked like he might faint. “Oh my God, oh my God, the baby’s coming—”
“It’s not—” You exhaled sharply, waiting for the pain to pass. “It’s not time yet. False alarm.”
Chan’s hand pressed firmly to your back, steadying you. His other hand found yours, gripping tight. “Breathe with me,” he murmured, his calm voice cutting through the panic around you. “In, out. You’ve got this.”
The cramp eased, leaving only a dull ache. You sagged against him, letting his strength hold you up.
The boys hovered, uncertain, their earlier excitement replaced by genuine fear.
You straightened slowly, forcing a smile. “See? I’m okay. Not the real thing yet.”
“Not funny,” Minho muttered, though relief softened his words.
Chan kissed your temple, his own heartbeat still racing. “Let’s get you lying down.”
As he guided you back to the couch, the boys followed like nervous ducklings, each one offering something—water, a blanket, a pillow, their own panicked reassurances.
You sank into the cushions, surrounded by their anxious care, and couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re all going to be such good uncles,” you whispered.
Han blinked rapidly, looking suspiciously close to tears. Felix sniffled. Even Seungmin’s lips twitched into a faint smile.
Chan sat beside you, his arm around your shoulders, his eyes never leaving your face. His thumb brushed your skin, steady and soothing. “We’ll get through this together,” he murmured. “Always.”
And with all of them gathered close, the fear ebbed into something else—something warm, safe, and unshakably whole.
The night was heavy with quiet. Most of the boys had finally drifted off, their exhaustion catching up after days of travel and excitement. The house was still, save for the hum of crickets outside and the occasional creak of the floorboards.
You lay in bed, propped up by pillows, one hand resting on your stomach. The baby had been restless again, but now their movements had softened into gentle rolls. Chan sat beside you, laptop closed, giving you his full attention the way he always did when he sensed you needed it most.
“You should sleep,” you whispered.
He shook his head, brushing a curl off his forehead. “Not a chance. What if you need me?”
Your heart swelled. Even now, after years of being loved by him, his devotion could still undo you. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “I love you, Christopher.”
His gaze softened instantly at the sound of his full name, used only in rare, tender moments. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too. More than anything.”
The moment was sweet, grounding. But then a sudden, sharp wave of pain rippled through you, stealing your breath.
You gasped, clutching his hand. “Chan—”
His eyes widened. “Is it—?”
Another contraction tore through you, stronger this time. Your body knew. This wasn’t a false alarm.
“It’s time,” you whispered, voice tight.
The next hour blurred into chaos.
Chan was everywhere at once—grabbing the hospital bag, calling his parents, trying to keep the members from completely spiraling.
“Breathe, hyung, breathe!” Han shouted, pacing the hallway.
“I think that’s what she needs to do, not him,” Seungmin corrected, though his own hands shook.
Felix looked pale but determined, clutching the car keys like his life depended on it. “I’ll drive!”
“No way,” Minho cut in. “You’d crash before we left the driveway.”
Changbin barked, “Everyone, move! Out of the way! Pregnant lady first!”
Amid the whirlwind, Chan stayed anchored to you, crouched at your side, his hand steady in yours. “I’ve got you, baby. We’re going to the hospital now. Just hold on a little longer.”
You nodded, breath shallow, tears pricking your eyes—not from fear, but from the overwhelming rush of everything. The baby was coming. Your life was about to change forever.
The hospital was bright, sterile, buzzing with hurried footsteps and quiet voices. Nurses guided you into a room, hooked up monitors, spoke in soothing tones that barely pierced through the haze of contractions.
Through it all, Chan never let go of you.
He held your hand, whispered encouragements, brushed damp hair from your forehead. His voice was low and steady, an anchor in the storm.
“You’re so strong,” he murmured. “I’m right here. Just focus on me.”
Hours passed, contractions building, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. The boys were kept in the waiting room, pacing, whispering, occasionally peeking in through the door until a nurse shooed them back.
At one point, a scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate. Panic flickered in Chan’s eyes, but he didn’t waver. He pressed your hand to his lips, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I know it hurts. But you’re amazing. You’re everything. And when this is over, we’ll be holding our baby. Just a little longer.”
His words carried you through.
And then—after what felt like forever—the room filled with the sharp, beautiful cry of new life.
Your baby’s cry.
You collapsed against the pillows, sobbing with relief as the nurse placed a tiny, wriggling bundle on your chest. Your child. Warm, fragile, perfect.
Chan’s breath hitched audibly. He hovered for only a second before leaning close, his hand trembling as he stroked the baby’s cheek.
“They’re so… beautiful,” he whispered, voice breaking.
Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at him. “We did it, Chan.”
He kissed your forehead, his lips salty with his own tears. “No, you did it. You’re incredible.”
The baby squirmed, letting out another cry, and Chan laughed through his tears, pressing his forehead gently to theirs. “Hey, little one. I’m your dad. And I promise—I’ll love you forever.”
When the nurse finally allowed visitors, the boys filed in cautiously, their usual boisterousness muted by awe.
Han was the first to speak, his voice barely a whisper. “Oh my God.”
Felix’s eyes filled instantly, tears spilling down his cheeks. “They’re perfect,” he breathed. “Hyung, you’re a dad.”
Minho lingered in the doorway, arms crossed but lips twitching into a rare, proud smile. Seungmin and I.N leaned over each other to catch a glimpse, both wide-eyed and speechless. Hyunjin clutched Han’s arm so tightly that his knuckles went white.
One by one, they stepped closer, peering down at the tiny face nestled in your arms. The baby’s little fists waved, eyes squeezed shut, lips pursed in the faintest pout.
“They’re already cooler than Chan hyung,” Han joked weakly, wiping at his face.
You laughed softly, exhausted but glowing. “Want to meet them?”
What followed was pure, chaotic tenderness. Felix whispered sweet nothings in a trembling voice. Hyunjin gasped every time the baby moved. Seungmin smiled so softly it nearly broke your heart. Even Minho reached out, letting the baby’s tiny fingers curl around his.
The boys gathered close again, cooing, whispering. Felix’s tears flowed freely as he touched her tiny hand.
Han muttered, “She’s already cuter than me, that’s not fair.” Hyunjin insisted he was the favorite uncle, to which I.N rolled his eyes.
Changbin hung back at first, arms crossed, watching. His throat felt tight, and he didn’t trust his voice. But when you looked up and beckoned, he finally stepped forward.
“Here,” you whispered, shifting carefully. “Say hello.”
He hesitated—big hands trembling slightly as he reached out—but the moment her tiny fingers wrapped instinctively around his pinky, something in him cracked.
“Oh,” he breathed, eyes wide. “She’s… wow.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s really here.”
Chan smiled at him, exhaustion and pride mingling. “Yeah. She’s ours.”
For once, Changbin didn’t tease. He just nodded, blinking quickly, then muttered, “You did good, hyung. Both of you.”
By the time they all backed away, reluctantly giving you space, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.
Later, when the bustle had faded and visiting hours were over, you lay in the dim hospital room, your baby sleeping soundly in the bassinet. Chan sat beside you, his hand wrapped around yours, his gaze fixed on the little miracle you’d brought into the world.
He turned to you, eyes shining. “Thank you,” he whispered.
You frowned gently. “For what?”
“For everything. For loving me. For giving me a family. For making me the happiest man alive.”
Your throat tightened. You reached up, cupping his cheek. “This is only the beginning, Chan. We have a whole life ahead of us.”
He leaned down, kissing you slowly, reverently. It wasn’t the frantic kiss of passion, but the deep, soul-stirring kiss of someone who had found his forever.
When he pulled back, his smile was tender, almost boyish. “You and me,” he murmured. “And now, us three. Always.”
You closed your eyes, warmth spreading through you. And as your baby stirred softly in the bassinet, the three of you wrapped in the quiet of a new beginning, you knew with absolute certainty: home wasn’t a place.
It was him. It was this. It was love.
