“Jihoonie?” Soonyoung’s voice whispers, almost tentatively. Jihoon turns around to come face-to-face with his boyfriend. “Are you seriously looking at ramyun at a convenience store when there’s a mountain of food back at the house?” Soonyoung chuckles, but Jihoon knows it’s forced.

“Jagi,” Jihoon says. Soonyoung shakes his head. “Don’t call me that when you don’t mean it.”

“Jagiya,” Jihoon whispers, stepping closer. “Face it: your family hates me. There’s no way we’re eating together for the rest of our stay.

“Jagiya,” Soonyoung parrots. Jihoon rolls his eyes, but listens to what Soonyoung has to say anyway. “ what they think.” And—oh—Soonyoung is leaning closer, gently holding Jihoon’s chin—

Soonyoung kisses him. It’s a chaste press of lips, but Jihoon loves it anyway. Soonyoung’s lips are soft and full against his thin ones, strangely sweet-tasting, and he easily lets Jihoon lead it, like he always does. They kiss just like that, until they have no air left in their lungs, and Jihoon just wants to do it over and over again.

“Let’s go back, jagi,” Soonyoung murmurs against Jihoon’s lips.

“Soonyoung oppa is back!” Chaeyoung cheers, making everyone stop doing what they were doing and look up through the window.

True to her word, the whole family sees Soonyoung and Jihoon venturing through the partially open gate, hands linked and content smiles on their faces that are turned towards each other.

They step in the house and Soonyoung immediately searches for his mother’s face. “Mom,” he starts. “I’ve been a bad son. I shouldn’t have said all that, even if I was right and I think you deserved it—” This earns him a kick from Jihoon, but he promptly ignores it.

“I’ve learnt my lesson, and I will try not to do it ever again.”

Soonyoung’s mother rises from her seat, tears in her eyes, but smiling nonetheless. “I have learnt mine as well. As you said, I should not live in the past. I know you’re not a child anymore, and thus will stop treating you like one.”

She turns to Jihoon. “I’m sorry for treating you like that as well. I presume Soonyoung has told you about what I said, so I understand if you’re mad, but I promise that it was a mistake that won’t be repeated again.”

“…sure, okay.”

Soonyoung pulls his mother in for a hug, and they stay like that until Jihoon coughs awkwardly. “You still haven’t let go of my hand, jagiya,” he points out. The embracing duo separates with a wet laugh, but his hand stays interlaced with Soonyoung’s. “I’m never letting go, jagi,” he teases.

One of Soonyoung’s cousin (Jaehyun? Jaehan?) gasps. “He called Soonyoung hyung jagiya!” Jae-something accuses. Another squeals, “Soonyoungie oppa said it back!”

Jihoon sighs. It seems like being accepted by everyone is still a long way off.

“Where will I be sleeping again?” Jihoon questions as he gets out of the bathroom, freshly showered. Soonyoung and his mother pause whatever conversation they were having. “Oh,” the woman winces. “I—they weren’t enough beds, so we thought you could sleep on the…couch…?”

Jihoon mentally cringes at having to sleep where everyone’s asses have been on, but sighs and accepts his fate anyway.

Everyone in the whole house goes to their respective rooms at around a quarter to ten, and Jihoon is left with the option of sleeping on the old couch or pulling an all-nighter clean from the horrors of the couch. To be honest, even the latter sounds great. He retrieves his laptop, preparing himself for a ton of unfinished songs that he really has to work on.

“Oh? What are you doing here?” Eunhae’s warm, grandmotherly tone sounds from somewhere to his far right. Jihoon tells her the situation, as to which she snorts. “That was the fakest excuse ever.”

Jihoon agrees, but his mind and hands are busy cutting parts and mixing them together quickly. He works efficiently, Eunhae compliments, and he mumbles a ‘thanks’, his cheeks blushing a soft pink. Eunhae and him sit side-by-side without speaking a word, until—“Oh, someone’s here to see you,” Eunhae murmurs. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

Jihoon looks up to see Soonyoung clad in his own pyjamas, smiling gratefully at his grandmother. “Hey,” he whispers when she’s gone, snuggling into Jihoon’s side. “Hey yourself,” Jihoon snorts as he’s saving his draft and turning his laptop off.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much would you rate today as a disaster?” Soonyoung asks. “Hmm,” Jihoon ponders the question for a while, busying himself with putting the laptop back into its bag. “Seven—” Soonyoung whines. “—but this makes it downgrade to three.” Jihoon puts the bag down and turns his head to capture his boyfriend’s lips into a kiss.

The both of them stare at the blank wall for a while after that, neither of them saying anything, lost in their own thoughts.

“I—” Soonyoung says the same time Jihoon says, “Soonyoung—”

The both of them stare at each other, then laugh quietly.

“You first,” Soonyoung chuckles.

“No, you,”

“Okay,” Soonyoung jumps on the chance, making Jihoon laugh because of course Soonyoung would do that. “I’m sorry with all the you had to put up with. I understand if you don’t want to come back next year, or even stay the next day—” “Hey, hey, jagi,” Jihoon coos, cupping Soonyoung’s face in his hands. “Don’t stress it, alright? It’s fine, I’ll stay. I’ll even come back next year if you want me to.”

Soonyoung laughs wetly. “Thanks,” he whispers. He pulls Jihoon into a kiss to hide his overflowing eyes, but Jihoon feels the moisture anyway. “Don’t cry anymore, jagi,” he croons, brushing away the tears from his face.

“I won’t anymore. As long as I’m with you, I won’t cry. I promise.”

Kwon Jaein finds her son and his boyfriend sleeping together the next morning. They’re curled up round each other, Soonyoung somehow managing to tuck his head neatly under the smaller of the two’s. Jihoon seems to be protecting him, even in his sleep, his hand tightened protectively around his torso.

“They’re good together,” her mother says from beside her. The old woman doesn’t give her a fright; she’s done the same thing too many times. Jaein sobs, managing a weak, “I know.” “Why are you crying then, silly child?” Jaein doesn’t answer, still sniffling.

“At any rate,” Eunhae smiles. “My grandchildren will look very pretty.”