A sense of dread takes over him, and the world spins out of focus in a matter of nanoseconds; his jaw stops moving mid-chew and his eyes freeze. It’s horrifying, as if some superior power flicked its wrist and made time cling and freeze on him like a second skin, as if life suddenly struck him with full force. He drops his knife and fork, and the loud sound of metal clashing with china is enough to draw everyone else’s attention. Daehyun’s eyes widen in realization and he stands up with urgency instilled in his every move.

"Yongguk, take your brothers upstairs," he orders shortly, and the oldest son nods understandingly and guides the concerned Himchan and the curious twins out of the kitchen. Daehyun kneels in front of his husband and grabs his shoulders as tears escape Youngjae’s eyes and his entire body shakes.

It’s not the first time this happens; anxiety attacks visited Youngjae once a month at least, and every time they did Daehyun did his best to help Youngjae fight through them, because he promised to stick to him in sickness and in health, and he’ll stay true to his word, goddammit.

A terrible, broken sob rips through Youngjae, and Daehyun knows that even though his husband’s eyes are fixed on his face, he’s not really seeing him. “Jae,” he says softly, cupping Youngjae’s cheeks and wiping his tears away, although he knows it’s of no use; more tears came quickly, pouring like a waterfall. “Jae, talk to me. Stay with me. It’s okay.”

He was shaking like a leaf, his mouth opening and closing rapidly, letting out tiny sounds and tremendous sobs that Daehyun was sure could be heard upstairs. His arms automatically envelope Youngjae in a tight hug, and he knows he isn’t really helping and he knows he can’t really help anyway, and knowing that killed him, impaled his heart like a white hot sword. Youngjae is aching, he has no way of helping him.

"I’m— I’m not—" Youngjae’s voice is shaky and barely audible and thick with tears, but he was talking, and that’s progress. "I can’t—" a whimper escapes him and he has to start over, struggling to swallow the sobs down and keep his body from shaking so pathetically.

“Thanksgiving’s coming and and I want to see my mom, I want to see her so bad it hurts, Dae,” he finally manages, the last word turning into a truly enormous sob. Daehyun’s heart clenches because he understands; Youngjae’s parents never truly accepted the fact that their son is gay, and truth be told, Youngjae never even told them they have three grandsons- he didn’t want to pain them further, he told Daehyun tiredly.

And Daehyun’s heart clenches painfully as his husband keeps crying and shaking in his arms because he wants Youngjae’s parents to understand and he wants them to stop being so prejudiced and just look at their son for once and understand that he’s happy the way he’s living now and he wants his sons to meet their grandparents and he wants a lot of things, but most of all, he just wants Youngjae to be happy.

Anger boils in his chest and his fingers curl into fists against Youngjae’s shoulders, and he makes up his mind.

"Don’t worry, Jae," he says softly, his voice as sure and old as time itself. "It’ll be okay."

———

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and Yongguk lowers his book and raises his eyebrow quizzically, trying to figure out who’s knocking before answering; Himchan never bothers to knock before entering because he’s an annoying brat and his parents always ask for permission to enter while knocking, so he’s left with Junhong and Jongup. He smiles.

"Come in," he calls, setting his book down on the bedside table and running a hand through his hair. The door open and the twins step in carefully, their eyes open wide as they look around the room. Yongguk never really allowed them to enter his room and this is the first time in their five years that they set foot in his territory, so of course they’re curious. Yongguk his head to the side and furrows his brow bemusedly, waiting for them to stop gawking.

Junhong’s still staring around with a sense of awe clear in his eyes as Jongup takes a few steps and climbs on Yongguk’s bed with effort, seeing as it was a very tall bed and he was the shortest five year-old Yongguk has ever seen. His chubby face is serious as he scoots closer to his big brother’s side and asks, “Gukkie, why is dad so upset about grandma and grandpa?”

That seems to remind Junhong of the purpose of this entire journey into Yongguk’s room, and he climbs on the bed and sits on the oldest’s other side, his eyes now open wide with a different kind of curiosity. Yongguk sighs.

"Well, you see, Up," he begins smartly, pulling the thick duvet so it covers all three of them, "do you remember your first day of preschool, and how everybody else had just one dad and a mom?"

The toddlers both nod furiously; it was the first time they understood that their family wasn’t exactly normal, to say the least. Yongguk smiles because they’ve all been through that- Himchan had the same experience as well, and he himself pretty much knew that the fact that he had two dads was special. He clears his throat and continues.

"That’s because having two dads is rare, but not bad," he clarifies quickly, patting his little brothers’ heads. "It’s not bad at all, but some people think it is, and grandma and grandpa think so too."

It quiet for a few seconds as the twins shuffle around under the duvet, feeling quite conflicted with the whole deal. “So… does that mean that grandpa and grandma are bad?” Junhong asks carefully, biting his lower lip in confusion. Yongguk shakes his head. “No, they’re just… they need some time to get used to it,” he suggests, a tone of hope sneaking into his voice. The twins nod.

They sit in a comfortable sort of silence for the next few minutes, Jongup’s head coming to rest against Yongguk’s arm and his eyes sliding closed while Junhong plays with his fingers, puffing out his cheeks out of pure habit. It’s nice; they weren’t the type of siblings that fight all the time, but rather a calm, supportive kind, and that’s what Yongguk likes about them, because he doesn’t really like fighting.

"I want to see grandma and grandpa, though," Junhong says quietly as Jongup’s soft snores fill the room. Yongguk sighs and looks out the window, at the setting sun. The air turns orange in a blink of an eye.

"Me too."

———

It’s nice and warm under the covers and Youngjae sighs contentedly as his mind slips into a calm state of being and his body relaxes at once. It’s been a long day and a long week and he feels like he earned this sense of tranquility, smiling and nuzzling his nose into the crook of Daehyun’s neck. The older kisses his hair.

"Jae."

He doesn’t answer, choosing to roll over and close his eyes instead. Whatever Daehyun has to say to him, he reassures himself calmly, he can say it in the morning.

"Jae."

Nope, Youngjae thinks to himself. Better luck next time, er.

And then there are lips on his neck and a hand sliding down his thigh and Youngjae turns around in a flash and gives Daehyun the glare of murderer, officially and annoyingly awake. “What.”

Daehyun swallows thickly, giving his husband a nervous smile. “First of all, calm down,” he whispers, his eyes twinkling brightly in the moonlight. Youngjae glares and waits for him to explain himself because he had a rough week and he’s tired and he really wants to know what on earth is so important that he has to hear it right now and not in a few hours. Daehyun sighs.

“Okay, don’t be mad at me—”

"I’m already mad at you, but do go on," Youngjae deadpans, sitting up and turning on the light on his nightstand.

Daehyun follows his lead, sitting up and blinking furiously while his eyes got used to the light. “I invited your parents over for Thanksgiving.”

At first Youngjae just stares with his eyes wide and his mind wiped blank with shock because what.

Daehyun looks concerned, his eyes scanning his husband’s face for any sign of upcoming violence, but all Youngjae manages is a weak, terrified sound.

"What," he starts as calmly as possible, the look in his eyes turning murderous, "the did you just say.”

"Look, you said you wanted to see them—"

"I do, but that doesn’t mean you have to invite them over!” Youngjae snaps, running a hand through his hair in absolute terror. “Daehyun, you of all people should know how I feel about them! I can’t believe you— what were you thinking?!” He’s yelling now, and Daehyun shrugs, suddenly angry as well. “I thought I was doing something good, but apparently I was way off,” he shoots back, getting out of bed and pacing around the room with his arms folded over his chest.

Youngjae seethes, throwing his hands up in despair. “God, if you think they’d just waltz in here and everything will be good and we’ll live happily ever after—”

"I was trying to help you feel better, you ," Daehyun cuts him off brutally, slamming his fist against the wall. Youngjae jumps. "I’m tired of you having anxiety attacks and being depressed over this, okay? It’s been eighteen years, Youngjae, it’s time to move on!"

A thick coat of silence lands on them and they both stare at each other, angry and frustrated and tired. It lasts for years and it’s uncomfortable and heavy and Youngjae’s chest feels tighter and tighter with each minute that passes, and he wants to make things better and apologize but he’s so ing angry and he really doesn’t feel like being near Daehyun right now, so in the end all manages to say are two quiet, defeated words.

"Get out."

And Daehyun does get out, slamming the door behind him in the process, and it’s quiet for a few seconds before Youngjae lets himself collapse, tears running down his cheeks and his body feeling too weak to hold itself together. He falls apart.

And on the other side of the door, Daehyun takes a shaky breath and rubs a hand over his face, feeling like he just aged twenty years.

"Daddy?"

Junhong’s peeking behind the door to his and Jongup’s room, and Daehyun sniffs and collects himself quickly, flashing his son a quick smile. “Yes, baby?”

"Are you okay?"

No, he wants to say, he hurt his husband and he did something stupid and he’s sorry and he’s not okay at all and he just wants to fix this ty situation; but all he manages is a shake of his head and a thumbs up.

"I’m fine. Go back to sleep, okay?"

And as Junhong nods and closes the door, Daehyun closes his eyes and sighs.

I ed up.

———

The next morning is hard; the atmosphere is heavy and they barely talk over breakfast, except for the small “Can you please pass the milk”s and the obligatory “Thank you”s. It’s awkward and nobody likes it, but they’re both too angry to even spare the other a glance, let alone talk to each other in full sentences.

Himchan squirms in his seat uncomfortably, glancing at his fathers over and over again and searching for a hint of a smile or maybe a chuckle, anything to clarify that things are getting better. The twins just stare at their plates blankly, and Yongguk says nothing as he chews on his toast. What, he thinks to himself glumly, is there to say?

It’s not until night falls again and the kids are all in bed when Daehyun knocks on the already open door of their bedroom, leaning on the wooden doorframe and looking quite sheepish. Youngjae looks up from his book and and sighs tiredly, the corners of his lips turning upwards just slightly.

"Hey."

Daehyun’s eyes turn hopeful in a second and he enters the room, closing the door behind him. “Hey.”

The younger pats the mattress next to him suggestively, rolling his eyes at his husband’s excited smile. He could almost see Daehyun’s tail wagging happily. “You mean it?” Daehyun asks him as he takes two steps closer to the bed, the air already feeling much lighter. Youngjae laughs.

"Just come here, you big big idiot," he says eventually, rolling his eyes at the way Daehyun pretty much leaped through the air to join him in bed. Their hands find each other and their fingers lace together and it feels like order is restored at last. All is well.

And as their lips meet and they’re finally back to normal and Youngjae finds himself on top of Daehyun and he’s on the skin just below his husband’s ear Daehyun says, “Listen, I’m sorry about—”

"Shhh," Youngjae mumbles against heated skin, his lips gliding down his jawline and back up to kiss him softly, as if nothing happened. "Shut up, you’re ruining it."

And Daehyun laughs.