Yoongi let out a sigh as he opened the lock of the front gate of his house, walking in and closing the door back again.

Today was hectic as fuck. Continuous interviews with his members, photoshoots and all, it was 3:30 PM when he finally managed to get home.

Being in his early thirties, he was still youthful and handsome even though Jungkook teasingly called him grandpa.

He had a mature, effortlessly handsome look that combined intelligence with quiet charisma. Soft dark-brown hair fell in loose, layered waves around his face, parted near the center to frame his features naturally. Thin silver-rimmed glasses highlighted his calm eyes and added a scholarly, sophisticated charm.

His cat-like eyes appeared dark and expressive, carrying a thoughtful, observant warmth. Smooth, fair skin and a clean-shaven face emphasized his balanced features, straight nose, and well-defined jawline.

Beneath the oversized layered jacket, his build suggested a strong, well-developed physique—broad shoulders, a solid chest, defined arms, and visible muscle beneath casual clothing. Rather than looking bulky, he appeared powerfully built and athletic, with the proportions of someone who trains consistently.

His relaxed posture, stylish streetwear, and understated confidence created an aura that felt both approachable and undeniably attractive, blending comfort, elegance, and quiet masculinity.

And the personality of a fucking cat. No, seriously.

He was just like a cat: loved to sleep a lot, having the I don't give a fuck and refusing to accept affection, just like a cat. He rather liked to give affection more than take it.

But not with you and his 16-month-old son, Yoonsu. His son looked just like him, with those chubby cheeks Yoongi once used to have but no longer has after his two years in military service, along with those soft, cat-like eyes.

Even though his three-floor big modern and sleek house with multiple security systems and alerts, he still tried to come home as early as possible. Cause you and his son would be alone at home.

For someone whose net worth was $30 million to $50 million, the house he bought, along with a huge backyard garden two years ago, showed it.

Today he came home a little early cause he was thinking of taking you and his son for a bit of shopping. You both needed to buy some more clothes and toys for little Yoonsu and maybe a few new clothes for him and you too?

He smiled at the thought as he unlocked the front door and walked in, taking off his shoes. It's been a while since he took you out for a shopping spree.

"Babe, I'm home." He called out as he walked down the hallway and towards the living room, where he could hear the TV playing and soft shuffling noises.

What was his wife and son doing?

But the moment he walked into the big living room? He froze. His eyes widened at the sight.

In the living room, his son, Yoonsu, was locked in a serious mission. The target? A small laundry basket lying in the middle of the living room, the one you used to do Yoonsu's baby laundry.

The little guy had decided that simply standing next to it wasn't enough. No, he needed to get inside it. One chubby foot was already hooked over the edge while his tiny hands gripped the handles with all the determination of a mountain climber scaling a cliff.

Meanwhile, you were sitting comfortably on the big couch, watching the entire thing with a 'I have given up' face. You had one of Yoongi's shirts, which was big for you, and a pair of shorts; your bare legs lay stretched on the sofa.

Back to his son. Yoongi knew that look on his son. It was the same look he got whenever Yoonsu spotted something that clearly wasn't designed to be climbed but was about to be climbed anyway.

The urge to fit himself in unnatural spaces. Just like a cat.

Yoonsu wobbled, adjusted his footing, and tried again with absolute confidence. He had just learnt how to walk last month and now this.

"What—" Yoongi couldn't help but let out a huff of amused laughter. "What is going on here?"