The baby monitor was on Luhan’s side of the bed. It sat, at least during the day when either Luhan or Sehun weren’t carrying it around almost religiously, on the end table that was now cluttered with as much of Youri’s things as Luhan’s.

But when Youri’s cry came through it, crisp and loud and very demanding, it sounded as if Youri herself were right next to Sehun.

He’d argued for that, actually.

For the first night they had Youri home, both he and Luhan had been in utter agreement that they weren’t willing to let her out of their sight for more than a few seconds. She’d napped during the day in her crib, sleeping on and off like she would for the first few months, but at night Sehun had dragged her bassinet to the side of their bed and she’d sleep feet from them.

Sehun had found it comforting in a way, to be able to lay in the silence of the bedroom and hear Luhan breathing next to him, and Youri doing the same. And it had made those first midnight feedings easier to handle as well, with Sehun able to roll from the bed in seconds and have her in his arms.

But Luhan had said no, surprisingly, to it becoming a regular thing.

He’d told Sehun firmly, “Eunji said that there’s nothing wrong with Youri. She’s as healthy as a newborn can get. So there’s no reason for her to sleep next to us when she has a perfectly good nursery.”

Sehun had shot back right away, “It’s for peace of mind, Luhan. That’s a good reason.”

Luhan hadn’t budged. Apparently Eunji had filled his head with nonsense about babies doing better when they acclimated sooner to their nurseries and learned independence. It was definitely a Western kind of idea—a throwback from all the time Eunju had spent studying abroad in America, because Sehun knew couples in Korea who slept in the same room with their kids all the way up until said children were hitting puberty.

But Luhan was hard to budge when he was determined, and Sehun wasn’t willing to start arguing with him so soon.

So Sehun had been forced to live with a baby monitor as proof of Youri’s continued presence when they went to bed. The only saving grace was that the baby monitor, a present from Suho weeks earlier, was high tech and fitted with a view screen that let Sehun see what was happening in the nursery via the camera he’d rigged up earlier that day.

Luhan, exhausted from his recent surgery and caring for Youri, dropped off easy at night. But Sehun could lay there for hours, watching the monitor, watching Youri just breathe ad sleep.

“Mmmh,” Luhan groaned out when Youri’s cries only continued to grow in ferocity.

Sehun cracked his eyes and leaned over Luhan to peer at the monitor. Youri was most certainly awake, wriggling a bit as she cried, probably hungry. A quicker glance to the clock across the room showed that it had been a little over three hours since Youri’s last feeding. That was a record of sorts, because Youri had a voracious appetite and could eat every hour and a half to two.

“Youri?” Luhan asked, starting to come awake a little more.

Sehun pressed a kiss to Luhan’s forehead and said with a rough voice, “I’ve got her.”

He’d put his feet down on the carpet and was reaching for his nearby robe when Luhan said, “No, that’s not fair. You got her the past three times.” He groaned in pain as he sat up. “It’s my turn.”

“Luhan.” Sehun guided him back gently to a lying position. “I have this, okay? You go back to bed.” Sehun could see so easily how desperate Luhan was to be an active father, even if Youri was far from being ready to crawl around and get into things. Luhan seemed frustrated by his inability to lift things, move quickly, or even be free of pain. And in return Sehun felt overly protective of Luhan’s health like he had when Luhan had been pregnant.

Getting out of bed and trekking to the nursery would cause Luhan all kinds of physical irritation. To avoid that, Sehun was more than willing to take as many late night/early morning feedings as possible. All of them, actually.

“Are you sure?” Luhan asked, sounding as if he were already half asleep.

“I’m sure,” Sehun chuckled out, then he stood, got his balance, and made his way quickly to Youri

She was still crying in earnest when Sehun reached her, flipping on the baby friendly lights to the nursery. A soft glow lit up the room and Sehun peered over the edge of the crib.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Her face scrunched up as she ignored him, continuing to cry.

“I know,” Sehun sighed out, then reached down to carefully lift her. “I know you’re hungry. Let’s get you fed.”

As of right now, he felt great. Plenty of people had warned Sehun that the sleepless nights and endless crying would start to take its toll before too long. But at the moment, Sehun felt invincible. It was the adrenaline. It was the rush of being a father finally. It was all the love he felt for Youri fueling him.

Tucking her against his shoulder, Sehun walled the hallway down to the kitchen, trying not to jostle her as he navigated the dark.

“Hang on a second,” he said, and was forced to put her down for just a second while he warmed up her bottle. He made sure she was on her newborn baby cushion near him, and set to work as quickly as he could, doing everything in the order he’d been taught, from bringing the milk to the right temperature and then testing it on the most sensitive part of his wrist.

“Don’t mug me,” Sehun told her fondly as she sniffled. Youri’s eyes tracked him as he moved closer to her. At her age Sehun knew she couldn’t see him from more than a few feet away, and probably as nothing more than a big blob of skin and hair, but he was desperate to have her recognize him and associate him with love and care. Or maybe just food. If she only knew him as the food bringer, he’d be happy.

It took a little maneuvering, but eventually Sehun was able to get settled into the nearby living room with Youri in the crook of his arm. She took the bottle immediately, giving it strong, healthy , and proceeded to alleviate any of Sehun’s fears that she’d reject the formula.

“There,” he said softly to her, rocking a bit as she fed. “You never have to fear. I’m always going to be here for you.”

She was so beautiful and precious and real.

Real.

She was real and not a dream.

That was what Sehun found the most difficult to accept. Each night now he went to bed terrified that he’d wake in the morning and be completely alone. Or worse, that something had gone wrong with Youri’s delivery and she was gone.

It was something he expected would fade with time, but regardless, he planned to speak with his therapist about the unhealthy thoughts, and how to deal with them in the best way.

“You ready to go back to bed?” Sehun asked as he watched Youri’s eyes blink lethargically as the bottle drained. While she was absolutely adorable now, looking more and more gorgeous with each passing day, Sehun was more looking forward to the days when her personality emerged, and she was fun to play with.

But damn if she didn’t look like Luhan in the clear light of the living room. Luhan was always going on about how she had Sehun’s eyes, and Sehun could see that without much strain. Her eyes were mirrors of his own. But everything else seemed all Luhan, and in a beautiful way. She was going to be gorgeous, just like him.

After her bottle was mostly finished, and Youri’s eyes closed completely, Sehun put her against his shoulder and tapped her back as firmly as he could bring himself to manage. It was a little difficult to keep his touch as light as a newborn required but strong enough to get the burps out, and also support her head and neck appropriately, but he was getting better every time he did it. He’d be an ace in no time, he was convinced.

It was simple to deposit her back into her crib once the feeding and burping was done, double check her diaper to make sure it was still dry, and then turn the light off so only the blue glow of the nightlight was visible in the room.

“Have sweet dreams, Youri,” Sehun whispered to her. Babies didn’t dream, not at only a few days old, but it was the sentiment that counted. “Cry if you need me. You know I’ll come running. I love you.” Sehun chuckled to himself and then left the nursery, making the quick journey back to the bed where Luhan was sleeping.

At least he’d thought Luhan was asleep when he climbed back into bed. Luhan had been still and breathing evenly.

But the second Sehun had settled down, forcing himself not to look over Luhan to see the monitor, or to steal it to his side of the bed, Luhan rolled slowly towards him.

He asked, “Everything okay?”

Sehun put an arm around Luhan and held him close, sharing his warmth. “Of course. Youri was just hungry. Her diaper wasn’t wet and she didn’t want any attention. She’s already back asleep.”

Luhan breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good.” Then a second later, he added, “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Sehun laughed quietly. “I’ve been telling you this forever.”

“No.” Luhan’s chin rested against Sehun’s chest, and then his head tipped so that Sehun was sure Luhan was listening to his heart. “You’re the best father.”

Sehun’s fingers rested at Luhan’s nape and he closed his eyes, trying to fall back asleep as quickly as possible. “Because I fed my daughter?”

Luhan’s lips were dry but welcomed when they pressed against Sehun’s skin. “This apartment is too small for sound not to carry. Also, there’s a microphone in the camera in the nursery.”

“Oh,” Sehun eased out.

Luhan sagged more fully against him. “I hope you give yourself credit for how good of a father you are.”

Sehun wasn’t sure how to reply to that, and it was pointless by the time he had worked something out. Luhan slept quietly against him, the apartment quiet again, and Sehun tried to follow after.

The next time Sehun woke there was sun creeping through the tightly closed blinds in the bedroom. And next to him, the bed was empty.

“Luhan?” Sehun cried out right away. How had Sehun not heard him get up?

He reached quickly for the baby monitor and breathed easy when he saw Youri still in her crib, sleeping. That was one less worry.

“Luhan?” Sehun called out this time much quieter, not wanting to wake Youri. He made sure he was absolutely silent as he passed by the nursery, but called for Luhan once more when he was past it.

“I’m here,” Luhan’s voice sounded from the living room, and when Sehun came upon him it was to veritable storm of wrapping paper, bows, tissue paper and tape.

“What the …” Sehun’s eyes went wide. “Luhan?”

In the center of it all was Luhan, sitting on the carpeted floor with fully wrapped presents now on all sides of him. “Hi, Sehun. Merry Christmas.”

“Oh.” It was Christmas. It had completely slipped Sehun’s mind, between Luhan going into labor, Youri being born, and the few days afterwards that were dedicated to recovery. “Merry Christmas. Luhan, why are you on the floor wrapping presents?”

Luhan put a proud hand on the box nearest him. “I had some wrapping left to do and never got around to it before now. But I woke up a couple of hours ago, gave Youri a diaper change, and decided to get it done.”

In the corner of the living room was a small Christmas tree. It was half the size of the one Sehun had in his own home, and had been put up hastily, but it was still pretty and did the job. It had a couple of smaller presents underneath it, but the bigger stuff was scattered around Luhan at the moment.

“Most of these are Youri’s,” Luhan said with a large grin. “I told people that she’s only a few days old. She doesn’t need a bunch of Christmas presents, but we got all of this for her anyway.”

Sehun stepped carefully over a cluster of presents and said, “You should have woken me. I would have helped you wrap.”

Luhan set to work gathering up all the leftover scraps of paper and pointed out, “You’re the one who was getting up all night long with Youri. You deserved to get a bit of extra sleep. But also, I did try to wake you.”

“You did?”

Luhan nodded. “You called me a cheeseburger, and said something about going to work. I left you alone after that.”

Sehun laughed and bent down for a kiss, then settled himself into the one open spot on the sofa. “Want to wake our daughter up, pretend like she has a clue what’s going on, video tape it all, and then end up opening all those presents you just warped ourselves?”

“Actually,” Luhan said, thumbing towards the Christmas tree. “I think we should open the presents we got for each other before Youri wakes up and demands to be the most important person in our life.”

“Rightly so,” Sehun teased.

Luhan nodded. “Of course.”

Sehun reached a strong hand down for Luhan and lifted him easily to his feet. “How about I go grab the baby monitor, just in case, and you grab our presents?”

Luhan gave him a salute, ambling his way over to the Christmas tree as Sehun took off for the bedroom.

It wasn’t the monitor Sehun was actually going for. Instead he was diving for the bag he had in Luhan’s closet, the only one he hadn’t unpacked since coming to stay with Luhan after his release from the hospital. All of his clothing were now hanging next to Luhan’s in the closet, and his shoes were mixed in with Luhan’s near the front door. But the bag had things of a more delicate nature in it, and the Christmas present he’d struggled almost endlessly over giving Luhan.

“You know,” Luhna said when Sehun came back into the living room. “I think we get a free pass this year. In a way, we gave each other a new baby, and that’s huge.”

Sehun gave him a smile at Youri’s mention. “No complaints here. But I still got you a few things.”

He’d been stressing so heavily over what to get for Luhan, he’d thought for a short second that he’d never find anything he wanted to give him. But then the moment he’d stopped trying so hard, and started letting things come more naturally, he’d found a wide range of things he thought would suit Luhan. And he was proud of the things he’d selected.

“Sehun?”

Sehun noticed the living room was a little better off now than it had been, but that wasn’t a comfort to Sehun. The last thing he wanted was Luhan bending over and picking things up. It was quite possible he was driving Luhan crazy with his hovering, but until Eunji gave him the all clear to lift something as heavy as Youri, who wasn’t very heavy at all, Sehun was going to worry.

And at the back of Sehun’s mind was the terrible fear that Luhan could develop any number of post surgery complications. And the danger of Luhan’s surgical wound developing an infection was possible as well. It wasn’t something Sehun liked to dwell on, or rather tried not to, but it was a fear there all the same. And maybe once or twice a night he’d press the back of his hand to Luhan’s forehead while he was sleeping and check for a fever.

Sehun couldn’t wait for the paranoia to pass.

“Sorry,” Sehun said with a laugh. “I was in my own world there for a second.”

Luhan arched an eyebrow. “Where’s the monitor?”

In Sehun’s pocket was the present he’d debated over for weeks. But he’d forgotten the monitor he’d used as an excuse to get the present.

“Sehun,” Luhan said, shaking his head. But he let it all pass miraculously, and instead patted the spot next to him on the cleared sofa.

For the most part, the next few minutes revealed that they’d had the same idea in terms of presents, picking up tiny trinkets for each other that didn’t amount of much of a monetary value, but were heartfelt and sincere.

“You actually listened when I said I needed this,” Luhan said, pleased immensely when he revealed the new sketchpad that Luhan had made mention of a while ago. With him unable to do much heavy painting, he’d been sketching a lot more, but he’d run out of the special type of paper he liked to use, and hadn’t had time to buy.

“I always listen,” Sehun defended, then gave an appreciative thank you to Luhan when he unwrapped a fancy looking digital clock that could sit on his desk at work and would tell him exactly what time it was in New York in relation to Seoul. “Luhan, this is perfect.”

With a sad smile, Luhan said, “I know Chen is your best friend, but Suho’s your brother. He means a lot to you and I know his going to America is a good thing for him and his future, but a tough thing for your relationship with him. But now you’ll know what time it is in America where he is, and if you’re ever working late at the office, you can call him up and not be worried that you’ll get him when he’s in bed.”

Between the two of them there were half a dozen smaller presents, small tokens and charms that both Sehun and Luhan seemed to enjoy.

But for as much as Sehun enjoyed the presents Luhan had gotten him, Sehun enjoyed the look of joy on Luhan’s face as he unwrapped his gifts more.

All their future Christmases would be like this, Sehun thought fondly. Maybe they’d be a little louder with Youri tearing into her presents, but it would still come down to him and Luhan and the representation of the love they had for each other.

With one present for each other left, Luhan said, “Xiumin and I used to buy presents for each other every Christmas, and we had fun opening them. It was an easy thing, sharing a holiday like Christmas with my best friend. But this feels different. Don’t tell Xiumin, but it feels better.”

Sehun stretched an arm out across the back of the sofa, his fingers just brushing Luhan’s nearest shoulder. “I spent a lot of Christmases with Jae, Luhan. And I loved him with all my heart. But this feels different to. Maybe it should. Maybe it’s supposed to.”

Luhan tipped towards him and Sehun held him in perfect silence.

“This,” Sehun said eventually, handing Luhan the last present that had been under the tree, “is more like a gift for all of us. It’s a family gift. And I think it should be a tradition.”

“I like it,” Luhan said approvingly as he worked at the bow on the top. “Family traditions are a good thing to have.”

It was worth following his gut and waiting until almost the last second to buy the present for Luhan, which he’d found at a tiny little craft store tucked away down a side street outside of Seoul.

“They’re …”

“Ornaments,” Sehun supplied for Luhan, but he could tell that Luhan liked them. “Turtle doves.”

Luhan held the two white bird replicas in his fingers with reverence. “They’re so beautiful.” His face was lit up with pleasure as he discovered a third, tiny baby turtle dove still in the box.

Easily, Sehun said, “Suho gave me the idea, but me seeing these at a store is more like a fluke, or maybe an act of god. Because in biblical terms, turtle doves are supposed to represent the kind of love that’s steeped in devotion and purity. That’s the kind of love I feel for you. Love that gets battered around a little, and put through the ringer because we’re still learning, but love that endures because of how strong it is. Finding a baby turtledove to represent Youri wasn’t easy, but I was determined.”

Luhan set the ornaments down in the box and leaned over for a deep kiss from Sehun. “They’re beautiful. And next year we’ll pick out a new set of ornaments, right? We’ll do it every year.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Sehun said. He wanted to be a hundred years old one day, sitting next to Luhan on Christmas with their grandchildren and great grandchildren surrounding them, Christmas tree in sight. And he wanted to be able to see all the ornaments they’d bought over the years. He wanted that so badly.

“My turn,” Luhan said, and then handed Sehun something square and blocky. Sehun could feel a frame underneath the wrapping that meant it was a painting of some sort.

“Luhan,” he said, trying not to sound too much like anyone’s father. “You know you’re not supposed to--”

Luhan gave him a gently kick with his foot. “Stop making assumptions and open it.”

It reminded Sehun momentarily of the painting of Luhan’s that he’d destroyed in a fit of rage after assuming too much too quick. Sehun had hidden all the evidence away as if that could make it better, but he’d have to admit to it quickly. Luhan was bound to ask about the painting and where it had gotten off to.

“I can’t paint,” Luhan said as Sehun tore off the paper. “Not for a few more weeks, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do this.”

Sehun let out a slow release of air. “You’re so … Luhan …”

Luhan had told Sehun once that he’d wanted to be a manga artist, and had spent a good deal of his childhood sketching out things before truly falling in love with painting. Sehun had taken that to mean that Luhan was decent with a pad and pencil, and Sehun had seen some of the stuff that Luhan had produced for Kai’s studio renovation.

But this?’

“When did you …”

Looking bashful, Luhan said, “D.O. did me the favor, actually. And I don’t think he even knew he was doing it for me.”

It was a sketch of Sehun and his friends. It was more than a sketch. It was a perfect rendering of a moment in time where Sehun had been surrounded by people he truly loved, laughing and talking and living. Luhan’s eye for detail was spectacular, and as Sehun’s fingers traced the figures in the sketch across the protective glass covering, everyone looked so lifelike. “This is so damn amazing.”

“D.O. snapped that picture with his phone on the last night all of you were together before he had to leave and go back to Europe. He sent the picture to me because he thought I might like it. He said he thought I’d enjoy how you looked in the picture. He was right. So I sketched it. I know it’s not the most traditional present ever, but I really--”

Sehun’s mouth was kissing a fiery trail of love and passion and determination across Luhan’s neck before he could even finish speaking. “I love it and you’re amazing.” he moved up to Luhan’s mouth and they were kissing more intensely after that. Luhan molded against him, the sofa cushioning their fall back against it, and Sehun felt so filled with affection and love for Luhan that it was making him burn with desire.

“I love you,” Luhan returned, his fingers in Sehun’s hair, carding through the strands as he met every kiss from Sehun easily and returned them with more pressure and need than Sehun had ever felt before from him.

Sehun grinned into at least a half dozen more kisses, then felt brave enough to pull himself off Luhan and take a deep breath.

Luhan, looking properly kissed, said, “I don’t know if I like that look on your face.”

Sitting back on his haunches, Sehun felt the bulge in his pocket. “I have to show you something else I got you.”

“I think you’ve gotten me more than enough,” Luhan commented, sitting up slowly.

Sehun winced a little. “This isn’t exactly a gift. Or it isn’t a gift for right now. I mean …”

“Sehun,” Luhan said gently. “What is it?”

With one more deep breath, Sehun reached into his pocket and pulled out the box.

“Is that …” Luhan trailed off, eyes shinning.

“This,” Sehun said slowly, “is the ring you’re going to wear when I ask you to marry me.” He cracked the box to show Luhan there were two rings inside, one for each of them.

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

Sehun shook his head. It would have been an easy thing to do, and his gut told him Luhan would have said yes. They were terribly in love, and the birth of their daughter had only strengthened that.

But therapy had certainly taught Sehun about thinking things through rationally, and not letting his emotions rule his actions. His love for Luhan wasn’t going anywhere, but there needed to be more stability between them, more openness, and more communication. They weren’t ready for marriage.

“I’m not,” Sehun said, and was impossibly thankful when Luhan didn’t look heartbroken. “I don’t think that would be the best thing for either of us right now.”

“That doesn’t mean we don’t love each other,” Luhan said in a way that meant he agreed with Sehun’s words.

“Of course not,” Sehun said a little huffy. “I love you very much. You are the person I’m going to marry. But right now marriage would be a little more foolhardy than anything else. I think we should wait. I want to wait.”

Head cocked a little, Luhan asked, “So why are you showing this to me?”

Right away, Sehun said, “To prove to you that I’m absolutely serious about this. About us. These are the rings that will symbolize our marriage when it happens. That means I’m not backing out, or getting cold feet, or rethinking anything.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that anyway.”

Sehun pressed on. “I’m showing the rings to you so that you know they exist, so that the proverbial elephant in the room is dealt with and we can work on us, knowing that eventually we’re going to get there.”

Eventually they’d get married. It might be before Youri could walk, or she could end up being their flower girl. Sehun wasn’t sure about which of those the wedding would fall closest to. But the timing didn’t matter so much as it actually happening.

Luhan reached out to take the box from Sehun, face soft in expression as he said, “I can wait to wear this ring some day. I can wait for the perfect moment.”

And like that, Sehun’s nervousness seemed to evaporate.

“Eventually,” he said, “I’m going to have to go back to my house.  It’ll just be easier when I go back to work. But I’m letting you know now, when that happens, this box with these rings will go in the top dresser drawer in the master bedroom. They’ll be there safely, for whenever we want to put them on, with no pressure of having them hanging over our heads.”

Luhan pulled a ring from the box and held it up to the light. “This is probably the best Christmas present of all.”

“Me getting you a ring?” Sehun asked.

Luhan shook his head. “The promise that comes with the ring.”

Before Sehun could respond Youri’s first cry cut through the air.

“Our daughter,” Luhan said with a laugh. “And her perfect timing.”

Sehun lifted himself from the sofa. “You laugh now, but what happens the first time she does that when we’re trying to have . It won’t be so adorable then.”

The ring went back in the box and Luhan closed it firmly. “Probably not. The jury is still out on that one.”

As expected, opening Youri’s presents was nothing she had even the slightest interest in. Fed, cleaned and played with for a few moments, she was more than happy to sit in her baby seat nearby them while Luhan tore open packaging and Sehun held his phone up.

“Youri,” Sehun said, giving the newborn a pointed look, “you’re too young to realize this, but this is the best day of the year.”

“And,” Luhan said, dabbing her nose playfully with a stuffed animal Sehun’s mother had sent for her, “you’ve really got to learn how to capitalize on this while you can. For the next few years you’re going to be an only child. Milk it for all its worth.”

Sehun’s mouth pressed into a fine line and he tried not to let it show on his face how much joy was coiling in his belly at the thought of more children to share Christmas with.

“This one’s from Uncle Suho,” Sehun told Youri, pushing a big box towards her. “You handle this one by yourself, okay?”

Luhan smothered a laugh behind his hand. “We might be terrible parents.”

“Nah,” Sehun said as Youri merely blinked her dark eyes slowly. “Half the point of having kids is that you get to mess with them.”

Luhan nudged the box closer to an uninterested Youri and told Sehun, “She’ll get back at us eventually.”

“But today is ours,” Sehun chuckled, then carefully placed a bow on top of Youri’s head.

Her face scrunched up quickly and she began to wail.

“Look at that,” Luhan sighed out, lifting his own phone up for a picture. “She already thinks we’re lame.”

“That just cements our status as legitimate parents,” Sehun said.

Luhan reached out a hand for a high five and Sehun met his fingers easily.

After all the presents were unwrapped, Youri falling asleep again around halfway through, Luhan and Sehun stood side by side as they prepared breakfast. They had plans to meet Sehun’s family at his youngest sister’s house which was less than twenty minutes away, for Christmas dinner. But for breakfast they were on their own.

“So Xiumin should be over soon,” Luhan said as he and Sehun ate breakfast in the crowded living room. Cleaning up would be a bother, but for the moment Sehun was happy enough to sit on crumpled wrapping paper and appreciate the situation for what it was.

“Why?” Sehun asked as he frowned.

Luhan rolled his eyes. “Because you and Suho are supposed to be in church in about an hour.”

Oh. Sehun had forgotten that he’d promised Suho he’d go to church with him that morning. It was almost irritating that Luhan had remembered and Sehun hadn’t. He didn’t think his promises meant so little.

“I don’t want to leave the two of you,” Sehun said honestly, his eyes flickering over to Youri. “Not any more than I like the idea of taking her out of the house later tonight.”

“I know,” Luhan said kindly. “But your sisters and your mother have all sworn they’re not sick, and Eunji told me it’s okay to expose Youri to small groups of people. We’ll keep her wrapped up and warm and she’ll probably sleep most of the time. Plus, we have to go. Your mother has been very good at giving us some space to settle Youri in.  She deserves to see her granddaughter now.”

“I still don’t want to go to church,” Sehun said.  He was more than regretting letting Suho guilt trip him into it.

When breakfast was done Sehun took a long, warm shower, dressed in the one suit he had at Luhan’s, and was just doing up his tie when Suho arrived to pick him up. By then Luhan and Xiumin were already crowded together in the living room, watching something on TV while chatting easily to each other.

“We won’t be long,” Suho said to Luhan as waved Sehun towards the door. “I think if I try to keep Sehun away from Youri for more than a few hours he’ll riot.”

“We’ll have a rumble,” Sehun clarified. Then he bent to kiss the top of Luhan’s head, and blew Youri a sweeter kiss. “I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll be here,” Luhan said reassuring.

When he and Suho were in the car, Suho said, “It won’t be that bad, Sehun. I already told my parents you’re only going to stay for a couple of hours. Just long enough to pray with them for a little.”

Sehun leaned an elbow up against the car’s windowsill as Seoul passed by in a blur. “I’m sorry I’m being such a jerk about this, Suho. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with your parents. Part of me still considers them family. This is more about me not wanting to leave Luhan alone with Youri. He’d got Xiumin to help him, but my nerves are on edge about it.”

“I know,” Suho said sympathetically. “But it would be okay, you know, if it was about my parents. They’re Jae’s parents. They have to remind you of him, and then, of course, of what happened to him.  They know that. It’s why they’ve tried to give you time and space.”

“They’ve always been considerate,” Sehun agreed. While his own friends and family had spent their time pushing him to recover, Jae’s family had been silently supportive of whatever actions he chose to take.

“But you coming today,” Suho said, looking just as pristine as ever in his suit, “means more to them than you’ll ever be able to realize. When you’re feeling bored or out of place, know that you being here today means everything to someone else.”

For the rest of the ride, Sehun reflected on those words.

The first thing Jae’s parents did when they saw him was give him the biggest hug he’d had in forever. They were looking better than the last time Sehun had seen them, at Jae’s funeral. As if time had truly done them all the world of difference.

Jae’s father clutched him tightly as if Sehun were his son by blood, and Jae’s mother murmured in his ear, “We missed you.”

Sehun felt so guilty in that moment. Because Jae’s parents had been family. They’d been the best kind of supportive family, too, always kind and generous and accepting of him. And he’d just cut them out of his life when Jae died, almost like they’d died, and hadn’t given it a second thought. It was cruel of him when he thought of it.

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” Sehun said, closing his eyes and just letting himself feel. Jae’s mother smelled almost like Jae did, and she had the same comforting effect on him that he had. Jae’s father looked so much like him, and sounded like him, and it wasn’t the heartbreaking reminder he’d always thought they would serve to be.

“We understand,” Jae’s mother said as she led them all to a pew in the front of the church. The second half of the morning service was scheduled to begin shortly and Sehun was even a little glad now that he’d come.

Sehun admitted to them, “I’ve been selfish.” Suho gave him a supportive look and Sehun felt better saying the words. “I only thought of myself. Not you, which was wrong.”

“Oh, please,” Jae’s mother said, petting the side of his face. “You did what was best for you. You protected yourself until you were strong enough to stand up again. There’s no shame in that.”

Sehun wanted things to go back to how they had been with Jae’s parents. He wanted to visit them freely, share meals with them, and enjoy their company. But there was one thing he had to make sure they were clear about.

“Did … ah …” Sehun tried to find his voice. “Has Suho told you about Luhan?” Because not even for Jae’s parents, and how much he still loved them, would he pretend like Luhan wasn’t the man he was currently in love with.

It was Jae’s father who said surprisingly, “We wanted to offer our congratulations on Youri’s birth, but we weren’t sure if that would be overstepping.”

“You know about her?” Sehun asked with an air of disbelief.

Suho leaned over and said, “My parents didn’t stop considering you their son just because Jae passed away. They’re happy for you.”

Jae’s mother fumbled for her phone for a second, and then she was showing Sehun the picture she had of Suho holding Youri. “She’s very beautiful, Sehun.” It was a picture that had been taken in the hospital, after Youri was only a day or so old.

“But …” Sehun was confounded.

At least until Jae’s mother asked gently, “Did you think we wouldn’t be accepting of Youri?”

Well … yes. That was exactly what Sehun had thought.

Bowing his head a little, Sehun said, “I thought you might be angry.” Angry that Jae and Seoyoung had died, but Youri and Luhan were both healthy and happily alive.

Jae’s father said, “We let go of our anger a long time ago, son. We’re happy for you. We’re happy for the life you’re having now.”

Voice at a whisper, Sehun said, “I hated myself for so long. Because on the day we buried Jae, that’s when Youri was conceived.”

“Then I’m happy,” Jae’s mother said, startling Sehun. “I’m happy that something good came out of something so bad.”

Suho shot Sehun a knowing look as the minister made his way to the front of the room and the rest of the congregation started to file in.

“Ready?” Jae’s mother asked, taking Sehun’s hand firmly.

Sehun gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I’m ready.”