yoonmin au where taehyung, yoongi’s son, has an emergency and has the smarts to call for help — aka “the one time taehyung calls 911 for help with his math homework and single dad yoongi meets the cutest police dispatcher ever.”

(a thread)

warning: this is self-indulgent fluff

Taehyung had a really bad day at school.

Like, really bad.

First, he slept too late so that meant the bus came and left without him. He got ready and ate his breakfast as fast as he could, but before he and his dad knew it, the bus was already chugging away.

“Daddy, what now?” Taehyung held onto his backpack tightly and was worried. What if he was late? What if Mr. Kim got mad at him?

Yoongi had just smiled down at him, pinching his cheek in a way that made Taehyung laugh. “Don’t worry, Tae, I can be a little late today. Let’s go.”

Then, Hoseok wasn’t at school today.

As Mr. Kim passed around the new vocabulary sheets for the day, he said Hoseok wasn’t feeling very good so they would be making him a get-well soon card with glitter and everything.

Who was he gonna play with at recess now? They were supposed to go to the basketball courts as soon as the bell rang.

(They also didn’t have chicken today for lunch. This was the worst day ever.)

And then, his teacher just had to assign the hardest math problems /ever/ for homework.

Mr. Kim had stood next to him as Taehyung waited for his dad to come and Taehyung wanted to ask /why/ they had to add such big numbers now.

Seeing them kind of scared Taehyung, but Mr. Kim always smiled at them with his big dimples even he was giving them hard problems.

How was he gonna finish his homework?

Looking at the numbers now, it’s hard and Taehyung can’t remember what he needs to do.

He really, really wants to ask for help, but Taehyung doesn’t want to wake his dad up, because he remembers that Yoongi is tired and should rest.

But this problem just wasn’t making /sense/.

Biting his lip, he worries that he might not finish after all. What would Mr. Kim say? What would his daddy say?

And then, he gets an idea.

—

“911, what’s your emergency?”

It’s a serious voice that answers and Taehyung gulps, nervous.

“Um, hello, can you help me?”

“Hi, who am I talking to?” The voice on the other line sounded confused, but not unfriendly, so Taehyung gathers courage to keep talking.

“M-my name is Taehyung. Um, I had a really bad day, and… I don’t know.”

“You had a bad day… at school?”

“Yeah…”

“What happened at school? Why did you have a bad day, Taehyung?”

Taehyung wants to tell this guy /everything/, but he decides to keep the other things secret.

“I just have a lot of homework.”

The man on the line makes a noise like he understands. “Okay, what subject is it?”

“Math,” Taehyung says and then thinks to add, “And it’s really hard.”

“Is there a problem you want me to help you with?”

“Yeah, wait, um… what’s 612 plus, um, 13?”

“Do you have your paper in front of you?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung hears the man chuckle before he speaks again.

“So, you have to add the numbers on the very right first. So 2 plus 3, add those and what do you get?”

Taehyung knew this one! “It’s five! I wrote that down.”

“Right, so there’s nothing that carries over, right? Next, you would add up the numbers to the left.”

Taehyung looks hard at his paper and sticks his tongue out in concentration. “1 plus 1 is 2.”

“Okay, so there’s nothing that carries over there either, right?”

Taehyung doesn’t see anything would carry over and cheers. “Yeah, there’s no carry over.”

“Okay, so then you add the last numbers to the left again. But you only have one number left, right?”

“Yeah.” It was true, there was only “6” left.

“You would bring that down too.”

Taehyung writes “6” next to the other numbers. “Okay.”

“Okay, so what’s your answer?”

“625?”

“Yeah! Good job, Taehyung,” the man’s voice is light and happy and so is Taehyung.

“Thank you,” he answers shyly.

“You’re welcome,” the voice says. “Was that your only problem?”

Taehyung looks at his sheet and realizes he understands the problems a bit better.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for calling you, but I really needed help.”

The man laughs again, but not meanly. “You’re okay. We’re here to help.”

—

“Hobi was out sick today, Daddy, so I had to play basketball by myself."

Yoongi’s spooning some soup into Taehyung’s electric blue bowl and soon joins his son at the table.

“Oh, no, Hobi’s sick? I hope he feels better soon, Tae,” Yoongi frowns.

He’s never liked the idea of Taehyung being alone, but decides not to press it for the time being. They had talked before about making new friends, but Taehyung and Hoseok were like two peas in a pod — inseparable.

“How was the rest of your day though?” Yoongi asks.

“M’okay, I finished /all/ my homework, even math because a nice man helped me, so can I play tonight?” Some soup dribbles down Taehyung’s chin and Yoongi hands him a napkin, chuckling.

“If you finished your homework, sure— wait, wait, nice man? Who was it?”

Taehyung inhales a spoonful of rice before swallowing and smiling up at him.

“The nice man on the phone! He helped me with my math homework, Daddy.”

Yoongi is confused because he would’ve heard the phone ring, even if he had been asleep earlier. This suddenly was concerning.

He puts his spoon down slowly and looks to Taehyung who’s resumed eating.

“Tae, did you call someone?”

“Yeah, I dialed 911 like you taught me to, whenever I have an emergency! A nice man answered and helped me with my math problem.”

Yoongi’s eyes go comically wide, because last week, he /did/ teach Taehyung the number to call if he was ever in an emergency situation, but the realization soon hits that his son just called the police to get help with his homework.

But Yoongi’s calm. He’s not gonna freak out. He’s gonna be calm about this.

“Taehyung, did you get a name?”

—

“Say, did we get any calls when I was out?” Seokjin’s voice reaches Jimin just fine, despite their desks being some distance apart.

It’s early morning and the sun’s just peeking through the station. Jimin adjusts his headset and clicks it on.

“Yesterday afternoon? Just two. One was a medical — a fifty-year-old woman was found unresponsive on the floor when her husband came home, but the ambulance got there on time to take her to the hospital to get checked out. High blood pressure, didn’t take her meds that day.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue in sympathy before coming up behind him, leaning his arm on the upholstery of Jimin’s chair. The multiple computer monitors on his desk still have black screens as they warm up and come to life, and in them, Jimin spots Seokjin’s reflection.

The older carries his uniform well and at the moment, his eyes brows are scrunched up in concern.

“And the other?”

“Ah,” Jimin breaks into a small smile, remembering the boy from yesterday. “It was—”

“Excuse me, I was wondering if I could speak to your dispatcher?”

A low voice, almost muted by the growing morning bustle of the station, carries over, and Jimin glances to the help desk where he sees a blond-haired man with dark-rimmed glasses speak with their attendant, hand scratching his neck, looking uncertain.

There are other much-smaller hands that clutch the edge of the desk from underneath and Jimin can’t quite see who they belong to.

“Our dispatcher? Is there an emergency, sir?”

Jimin’s curiosity is piqued, because he’s used to calls, but never in-person visits.

He looks to Seokjin, who also looks intrigued by the early walk-in, and rises to greet the visitor.

The man‘s laughing nervously, before licking his lips. Jimin reaches them just in time to hear him continue in a slight drawl.

“No, no, I want to thank them. Say sorry maybe."

The hands belong to a boy, most likely not more than seven years old, who’s doing his best to reach the tall edge of the table, leaning his elbows on its surface.

“Did someone say dispatcher?” He greets the pair, smiling as friendly as he can.

Jimin hears a spluttering noise from the man and quickly looks to him in worry, but the latter is already putting a hand up to cover his mouth.

Up close, Jimin can see his features more clearly — the dyed blond hair with some dark roots peeking out, the cheekbones.

Attractive.

Wait, hold on. Jimin shakes himself out of his stupor.

“Can I help you?” He asks hurriedly, ears suddenly turning red.

“A-are you the one that answered my son’s call yesterday?” There’s a clear tingle of embarrassment in this man’s voice and next to him, the boy fidgets.

“I— are you Taehyung?” Jimin can’t quite look the father in the eyes directly, opting instead to grin at the boy.

“Yeah! You helped me yesterday with my math homework. What’s your name?” Taehyung smiles toothily at Jimin and jumps up, his backpack shaking in the process.

“My name is Jimin, and I’m glad I was able to help.” He can’t help but to smile back. This kid’s energy was infectious.

“Your hair is /really/ red. Were you born with it?”

The father coughs again, before he takes Taehyung’s hand, weakly saying, “We don’t just /ask/ things like that, Tae, why don’t we say thank you and then bye to dispatcher Jimin? C'mon.”

“No, it’s okay, really,” Jimin rushes. “It was my pleasure. Math was my favorite subject.”

He crouches to meet Taehyung at eye-level and drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“And no, I wasn’t born with this color. I had to dye it the red.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide with wonder and he breaks into the sweetest rectangular grin Jimin’s ever seen.

“Same with Daddy! He dyed it the color it is now. Before, it used to be black, which looked nice, but I think this hair is pretty too. Don’t you?” he beams up at his father, who goes crimson, and then at Jimin, who doesn’t even think twice before responding.

“Yes.”

The silence is deafening and Taehyung positively glows. “Daddy, Jimin thinks you’re pretty. Say you think he’s pretty back. You think his hair is nice too.”

“That’s— it’s okay, I think we should—” The man stammers, pulling Taehyung’s hand away and making to leave.

The kid has a fierce, determined look on his face though and stays put.

“You said to always tell the truth. And to floss every night.”

Jimin nearly snickers because Taehyung was really the brightest kid, but he realizes the father is looking at him quite openly now.

“You’re. Really nice-looking.” It comes out stilted and awkward and Jimin is suddenly warm all the way down to his toes. The man looks like he regrets every second he’s spent in the station, but Jimin. Jimin suddenly wants a name.

“You did it, Daddy! That wasn’t so bad.”

“S-say thank you, Tae, and we’ll go.”

“Oh, yeah, thank you, Mr. Jimin. You helped me out a /lot/,” His eyes shine with so much admiration that Jimin has to laugh before extending his hand to shake Taehyung’s.

“You’re very welcome, Taehyung. And…?” Jimin glances up at the man.

“Yoongi.”

“It’s nice to meet you then, Yoongi.”

—

“So now, you’re going to go out with this guy on Friday?”

“It looks like it, Jin. I think we might go for dinner.”

A laugh. “This kid, Taehyung? Smart as hell.”

“No, he really is. He asked if I could help out with some fractions tomorrow, so I guess I have a phone date too.”

It’s quiet between them, before:

“Wait, he’s not gonna call the hotline again, right?”

(end)

inspired by a real-life event!
this rly screamed baby tae energy to me ,, n now we have this :’)

to anyone that sees this, i hope u have a good day