For the next week, Seunghyun could think of nothing other than his impending visit with Jiyong’s family. The fairy hadn’t said more than that, really. Next week, I want you to meet my family! He hadn’t told him what to wear, or how he should greet them. Somehow, he thought it might be a bit unwise to bring a bottle of wine with him. Who knew if the rest of his family’s alcohol tolerance was as abysmal as Jiyong’s? And wouldn’t that make a wonderful first impression?

No, alcohol was out, but he thought perhaps a bit of poetry might be appropriate. Jiyong had been taking home verses he was fond of and, so he’d said, sharing them with his community. If the fairies knew anything about him, they were sure to know he was the author of Jiyong’s new finds. Of course, this was assuming Jiyong had mentioned him at all. They were friends, perhaps more than that, if he were being honest, but he wasn’t sure if associating with humans was as strange to fairy folk as the opposite was to him.

What would Jiyong’s family be like, he wondered. Would his father be short and portly and jolly, as he imagined? Would his mother fuss over him? Did he have any siblings? He couldn’t even begin to think about the ins-and-outs of fairy society. If Jiyong’s behavior was anything to go by, Seunghyun was sure to be the most conservative, awkward being they’d ever met.

It was on Wednesday of the following week that Jiyong flitted in through his open kitchen window, wings buzzing and hands waving as though he were flagging down emergency help.

“We have to go, quickly!”

Seunghyun sat his mug of tea and Stephen King novel down, less alarmed and more amused by Jiyong’s actions. “Where?” he asked. “And why? It’s only 9 am. I haven’t even had my first cup!”

“To the village! We have to be back here before dark. It’s starting to get very cold at night.”

The next ten minutes were a whirlwind of activity. Jiyong literally dragged Seunghyun into his bedroom by his collar, and then stood on top of the chest-of-drawers and tapped his tiny foot until the larger man begrudgingly changed into a weather-appropriate outfit. Although it was still September, the wind could be bitingly cold, especially after the sun set; Jiyong didn’t stop frowning until Seunghyun was bundled up in two layers of sweaters, and a scarf for good measure.

“You’re still half-,” Seunghyun pouted. “And I’m wrapped up like a burrito.”

“I’m a magical being,” Jiyong sniffed. “I have no need for clothing like you do.”

The writer ruffled the edge of the fairy’s skirt with a finger, causing him to yelp in indignation. “Then why do you even wear this?”

Jiyong jumped into the air and thwacked Seunghyun on the back of his head. “Don’t touch my skirt! It’s autumn! If you destroy this, I won’t be able to make another until spring!”

“But it’s just grass,” Seunghyun chuckled, ducking as the fairy slapped at him again. “Isn’t it? Can’t you make one out of some leaves or something?”

The crestfallen look that flashed across Jiyong’s face nearly caused the other man to apologize, although for what, he wasn’t sure. The fairy lit upon the oak dresser next to him, wings flattening against his back. He smoothed down the slightly coarse strands of his skirt, and gave Seunghyun the saddest pair of puppy-dog eyes he’d ever seen.

“It’s not just grass,” he murmured, voice softly insistent. “It’s- I made it from clippings of the grass in your front lawn. I only made this one, though, so if you tear it…”

“That’s the only skirt I’ve ever seen you wear,” Seunghyun mused aloud. “You do have others, right?”

The cotton candy-haired fairy blushed from his little head to his tiny toes. “Yes, but this one is special to me.”

Seunghyun had no idea what to say to that. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. Jiyong had made a skirt, his favorite skirt, from the grass on his lawn. The fact that he must have worn it nearly every day, that Seunghyun had never seen him in anything else, made his heart beat a little faster. He wished Jiyong were big right now, so he could cup one of those rosy cheeks in his palm. Instead, he a finger down the fairy’s arm, then ruffled his hair gently.

“Sorry. I’m a jerk.”

Jiyong grabbed the finger making a bird’s nest of his hair and shoved it away. He took to the air, hovering right in front of Seunghyun’s smiling face.

“You’re not a jerk,” he said with a shake of his head. “But you are slow. Come on; we need to get moving if we want to be back by dark.”

Jiyong made it sound as though his village was halfway across Korea. In reality, they walked about half an hour. Well, Seunghyun walked, and Jiyong rode on top of his head, grasping his hair and giggling the whole way. They traipsed through sparse woods, and over a large, barren field. In the middle of the field was a copse of trees; gnarled, ancient red pines that had surely been on the peninsula longer than any of the houses in the surrounding hillside. Seunghyun remembered these trees. He had played in their branches several times as a child. His grandparents, once they’d figured out where he was disappearing to each day, forbid him from returning. He’d cried about it then, but now that he was older and realized just how far he’d been wandering, and how far from help he’d have been had he injured himself climbing amongst the knots and needles, he understood why they hadn’t wanted him venturing there.

“Here we are!” Jiyong exclaimed once they’d crawled into the clearing in the center of the tangle. “Welcome to my village.” He spread his arms out and pivoted in the air, as though he were showing Seunghyun some great treasure. The writer felt like he was missing something. There was no village. Not as far as he could tell, anyway. All he could see was a dome of dark green needles, and the thick trunks of the red pines.

Seunghyun squatted down and duck walked over to the base of one of the trees. He reached a hand out and ran questioning fingers over the rough bark. Was there some trick to this? If he pressed on the right knot, would a magical world be opened to them? He realized he was being ridiculous when Jiyong started sniggering at him.

“It doesn’t work that way,” he giggled. “We don’t live in the trees. Here, watch.”

His wings caught a ray of afternoon sun as he dove toward the ground, sending a brilliant prism of light directly into his line of sight. Seunghyun squinted against the glare, but his eyes went wide once more when he saw Jiyong bend down and grab what looked like a loop of string amongst the pine straw. He tugged, grunting with effort, and suddenly-

“Is he here?!”

A patch of earth sprung up like a trap door, and another fairy came darting out into the sunlight. Her long, green hair flashed as she flew right up to Seunghyun’s face, and he gasped in surprise.

“Is this him?” she asked Jiyong. “Your human friend? You said he was good-looking, but I didn’t really believe you until now.”

Jiyong rolled his eyes and physically dragged the little blue-winged female away from Seunghyun, whose eyebrows were trying to escape into his hairline.

“Yes, Soojin, this is Seunghyun. Seunghyun, this is my older sister, Soojin.”

“Um, nice to meet you,” Seunghyun said, bowing as much as he could while in a squat.

“Ooh,” Soojin cooed, “he’s even more handsome when he speaks! Jiyong, you lucky little sprite. Does he have a brother?”

Seunghyun felt his face begin to burn in embarrassment. He didn’t have time to give Soojin’s forwardness much thought, however. A third fairy popped up out of the ground just as Jiyong was beginning to scold his sister.

“Jiyong, you’re late!”

This time their new guest was a male with a head full of long, purple braids, and shimmering silver wings. He was quite a bit more muscular than Jiyong, and looked a lot less happy than either of his fellow fairies. The newcomer flew up to Seunghyun, arms crossed over his chest, and gave him a very blatant appraisal. It seemed he found him somewhat lacking. The muscular fairy pursed his lips and twisted them, a reaction Seunghyun thought would be more appropriate if he were looking at roadkill.

“So this is the guy you’re always going on about, huh? He’s a little plain-looking, don’t you think?”

“Youngbae, stop it. You’re just speaking out of jealousy,” Jiyong snapped, buzzing over to Seunghyun’s side. The larger man still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that he was talking to three fairies. That this ‘Youngbae’ had just insulted him went right over his head.

“Are you Jiyong’s brother?” he asked, shifting so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed of pine needles beneath him. The purple-braided fairy darted a few feet away, turned back to him with a smirk on his handsome face, and scoffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m his lover.”

And just like that, the haze of wonder in which he’d been drifting faded. Youngbae was Jiyong’s lover? However selfishly, he thought that honor belonged only to him, even if they hadn’t quite made it that far yet. Which, he guessed, was completely his doing.

“Former lover,” the other retorted. “You and I haven’t been together in a long time.”

“Three months isn’t a long time, Jiyong.” He glared at Seunghyun. “It’s nothing compared to the years we spent together.”

“Years you threw away when you left, Youngbae! You have no right to interfere in my life.”

Seunghyun watched them argue. Poor Soojin looked like she wanted nothing more than to fly back underground and escape the squabble. He himself was torn between fascination and something much less pleasant. He knew what jealousy felt like, but this… this was closer to indignation. Not on his behalf, even though Youngbae was currently cursing and belittling him. Jiyong’s bright blue eyes were wide and watery, his little face red. He was so close to tears Seunghyun could hear his voice wavering with the effort of holding them back. That was the final straw. Perhaps, just like Youngbae, he had no right to interfere in Jiyong’s affairs, but he wasn’t going to sit there like a bump on a log and let some muscle-bound jerk with stupid hair make his sweet fairy cry.

“Excuse me,” he bellowed, deep voice filling and reverberating around the dome of pine branches. Jiyong and Youngbae both gasped and whipped their heads around to look at him. The smaller fairy’s already flushed face turned a shade of crimson Seunghyun wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “I’ve come to greet Jiyong’s family. As nice as it is to meet his ex-boyfriend, you’ll have to forgive me if I think maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

Youngbae looked comically affronted. “Who are you to say such a thing to me?” he hissed.

“I’m someone who cares for Jiyong. You’re upsetting him, and that’s upsetting me.”

The muscular fairy shot up to his eye level, silver wings beating so fast and close that Seunghyun’s hair was stirred by the air they displaced. They studied each other for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to look away. Seunghyun felt stupid, playing this macho intimidation game. He hadn’t intended to do this today; all he’d wanted was to meet Jiyong’s family and make the fairy smile. But he could see Jiyong from the corner of his eye, and he was definitely not smiling.

“I can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself involved with a stupid, magic-less human!” Youngbae told Jiyong with a roll of his eyes.

Jiyong narrowed his own eyes at Youngbae. “And I can’t believe you fell for that arrogant, flashy garden sprite!”

“Boys!” Soojin flew between the two quarreling fairies and glared at each in turn. Apparently, she’d finally had enough. “You’re acting like a couple of wingless children in front of our guest! Youngbae, if you can’t be a little more mature, then go back to the village. And Jiyong, what would mother think?”

As if those were the magic words, yet another fairy appeared from underground. An older female this time, with short, pale blue hair and wings identical in color. She darted up to where Jiyong was hovering, and Seunghyun immediately saw the resemblance between them. The same face shape, same piercing blue eyes, same gummy smile; in fact, if he wasn’t almost positive this was Jiyong’s mother, he might mistake them for twins.

“Mother thinks Jiyong has every right to be upset,” she sniffed, running one tiny hand over the boy’s cheek. “And she also thinks Youngbae has no business here.”

“But Seoyun! You can’t just expect me sit back while Jiyong-”

“Don’t ‘but Seoyun’ me, young man!” the older fairy snipped. “You haven’t been my son’s lover for an entire season, and you were the one who left him for that garden sprite. The only reason I haven’t dragged you back into the village by your ear is because you’ve been a friend of our family since before you sprouted wings. Now, if you can’t be kind to our guest, then take your little home.”

Seunghyun wasn’t quite sure how to react. The entire situation was unbelievable, but watching Jiyong’s mother tear into his ex-boyfriend was surreal. He wanted to laugh at the way Youngbae’s mouth was hanging open in disbelief, but he nearly cringed at the look of sheer mortification on Jiyong’s sweet face. It was obvious that Seoyun wore the metaphorical pants in this group, but he wondered if Jiyong didn’t feel a little cowed by his mother’s dominant presence.

Youngbae, apparently not feeling up to arguing with Seoyun or acting like an adult, flew back to the trap door that lead to the village. Before he disappeared into the Earth, he stared at Seunghyun for a moment, as if issuing him a silent challenge. And then he was gone. Seunghyun heard Jiyong sigh in relief, but he wondered if the fairy would return in the future, and if he was a rival for Jiyong’s affections. He hadn’t ever thought about it, because their relationship had so far played out in the seclusion of his home. It had just been them, alone, enjoying their time together, but now…

Seoyun clucked her tongue disapprovingly, pulling Seunghyun from his musings. “That boy has always had a temper. But enough of this silly business. Jiyong, why don’t you introduce us?” she asked, turning to Seunghyun.

He nodded shyly, one hand reaching out to wrap around a lock of the human’s hair. That it was done unconsciously, to seek comfort, caused Seunghyun’s heart to skip the way it had a tendency to when Jiyong did such cute things. Both, he was beginning to realize, were happening more and more often.

“Mother, this is my- this is Seunghyun,” he announced. “Seunghyun, this is my mother, Seoyun. She’s the matriarch of our village.”

Matriarch. So that was the reason for Seoyun’s authoritative behavior. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how to go about greeting her. Fairy culture was foreign to him, but surely bowing was appropriate when meeting anyone’s parents for the first time, even if they were the leader of a community. Seunghyun bent slowly, so that Jiyong wouldn’t be jerked down along with him. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Oh, my,” Seoyun tittered, clearly pleased. “Such manners. But come, sit up! We fairies aren’t so formal as that.”

Seunghyun raised his head and spared a glance at Jiyong. The boy was smiling prettily once again, any anxiety he’d felt a moment ago apparently no more than a memory. Seoyun floated back in front of him, grinning just as brightly as her son. She looked so much like Jiyong, it was uncanny. It briefly occurred to him to ask where Jiyong’s father was, but maybe it was best to meet his parents one at a time. Seoyun was a little intense.

His eyes once again flicked to his- well, he didn’t know exactly what Jiyong was to him. They’d kissed a few times, even seen each other (unintentionally, on Seunghyun’s part), but they hadn’t ever had a conversation about what their rapidly increasing intimacy meant. Here they were, meeting each other’s parents, and Seunghyun couldn’t say just what his intentions were toward the fairy. That was something he meant to rectify as soon as they got back to the privacy of his home.

“Seunghyun,” the blue fairy began as she circled the writer slowly, appraisingly. “As Jiyong’s mother and the leader of our village, I have a responsibility to ask you one question: what are your intentions toward my son?”

Well. .