Chapter Text
The airport was buzzing, but all I could focus on was the arrival gate. The moment Hoshi appeared, dragging his suitcase and wearing a wide grin, he let out a delighted squeal.
“I missed you so much!” he cried, launching himself at me and smothering my face in kisses.
“Okay—okay! Hoshi!” I laughed, squirming as I wiped his slobber off my cheeks. “Your love is a little wet today.”
Unbothered, he was already unzipping his carry-on, pulling out random souvenirs with chaotic energy. “Look! I got you a shirt that says ‘My boyfriend went to Mexico and all I got was this T-shirt!’” He held it up proudly. “Also, Mexican chocolate—and this wooden thingy I found at a street market. It makes noise!” He shook it enthusiastically.
He didn’t stop talking the entire hour-long drive to Namyangju, telling me all about his trip, the food, the people, and how he almost got sunburned but survived thanks to aloe gel. Just as we pulled into the carpark of his parents’ house, he gasped.
“Oh my god—I didn’t even ask about your week! Baby, I’m so sorry!”
I laughed, reaching over to pat his knee. “It’s okay. We’ve got a few days. That’s plenty of time to catch up.”
He had a short break before work resumed, and I was on spring break from the school where I teach, so he invited me to spend a few days with his family. It already felt like home before we even stepped inside.
He rang the doorbell, and his mother opened it with a cry of joy. “My son!” She pulled him into a tight hug, only to push him aside a second later.
“My daughter!” she squealed, tugging me into her arms. I giggled as Hoshi pouted behind her, slinking off to greet his father.
“Good to see you again,” his dad said warmly as I bowed politely. “It’s been a while.”
True to form, Hoshi immediately started unpacking again, this time souvenirs for his parents—including matching “I Love Mexico” T-shirts for all of us.
The smell of something delicious drifted from the kitchen, and I turned to his mom. “That smells amazing. What’s cooking?”
“Kimchi jjigae, of course, for my son. And I made your favorite—tteokgalbi.”
I gasped. “Thank you so much! I can’t wait to eat.”
In the midst of the happy chaos, the front door opened again. His sister Min Kyung walked in, holding a squirmy little Latte in her arms. The second she saw us, she dropped Latte, who bolted for Hoshi, while Min Kyung ran toward me.
“Unnie!!! Why haven’t you come in such a long time?” she whined, wrapping me in a tight hug.
I hugged her back, laughing. “I have so much gossip to catch you up on.”
Latte pawed at my leg, tail wagging furiously. I scooped her up and she buried her snout into my neck, making little whiny noises of excitement.
Dinner was a loud, happy affair. I helped set the table while Hoshi hovered around the food like he hadn't eaten in years. As soon as we started eating, he chewed with his mouth open, making all kinds of questionable noises—something I’d long accepted as part of his charm.
“The food is amazing,” I said, beaming. “There’s nothing like a home-cooked meal.”
His mom smiled. “You should’ve come even when he was away! I’ve been telling you that for three years! You’re part of the family now.”
I blushed. “I promise, I’ll come more often. Especially during breaks.”
After dinner, Hoshi and I tackled the dishes together. He bumped his hip into mine and leaned his head on top of mine.
“I’m glad to be back,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my head.
“Ew, cut it out,” Min Kyung teased, walking in. “Unnie, want me to do your nails? I got new gel polish!”
“Of course I do!” I said, abandoning Hoshi, who groaned dramatically.
I settled on the couch while she started on my nails. The TV played quietly in the background, Latte snuggled on my lap, and the warmth of the house wrapped around me like a blanket. I felt completely at ease.
Hoshi came back after washing up and wedged himself behind me on the couch.
“Let me have her! I miss her too, she’s my girlfriend!” he whined at his sister.
She flicked him on the forehead. “Get in line.”
I leaned back against him, and he quieted, resting his head on my shoulder.
“You’re the only one who can tame him,” Min Kyung said, laughing.
He nuzzled into my neck, content, as his mom joined us with a plate of sliced fruit. We stayed up talking about everything—my students, their lives, stories from Mexico, and silly family memories. The night stretched long and lovely.
Eventually, we said goodnight to his parents and Min Kyung, who had work the next morning, and slipped into his childhood bedroom. It was covered in photos of him through the years—some as Hoshi of Seventeen, some as just Soonyoung.
Kwon Soonyoung was the one lying in bed now, propped up on his elbow, watching me with a fond smile as I climbed in beside him.
“I love being with your family,” I whispered.
“I love being with you,” he replied, scooching closer.
“Can I finally ask about your week now?” he teased.
“You already know! You texted me every five minutes!”
We giggled and talked anyway, our conversation flowing like it always did—easy and endless.
At around 3am, his stomach growled. “Ramen?” he asked, looking at me hopefully.
“I knew you were going to say that,” I grinned.
We tiptoed into the kitchen like teenagers sneaking snacks. He cooked the ramen, I prepped the bowls, and of course, he ate it with a side of kimchi.
“Isn’t this the best?” he mumbled with a full mouth. “Late night ramen with my favorite person.”
“You and your food romance,” I teased, wiping a bit of broth from his lip.
He slurped loudly, then leaned in close, his voice quiet.
“But you’re my favorite person. Food is number two.”
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling as I kissed his cheek.
The next day, I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside and the soft warmth of Soonyoung wrapped around me. One of his legs was flung over mine, his face buried in the crook of my neck, breath even and steady. It smelled faintly like ramen and laundry detergent.
I stretched gently, not wanting to wake him, but he stirred anyway, letting out a little whimper before tightening his hold.
“Five more minutes,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
“It’s already past ten,” I whispered, stroking his messy hair. “Your mom’s probably making breakfast.”
He groaned dramatically and rolled onto his back. “But I wanna stay in bed with you forever.”
“You said that last night too.”
“And I meant it both times.”
Eventually, he dragged himself up, rubbing his eyes like a grumpy kitten, and we made our way to the kitchen. His mom was already bustling around, the smell of toasted seaweed and soup floating through the air.
“Good morning, lovebirds,” she teased, setting a bowl of miyeokguk on the table. “Did you sleep well?”
“So well,” I said, bowing slightly. “Thank you for everything.”
“Of course. You’re always welcome here. I should’ve woken you up earlier—you’re wasting the day!”
Soonyoung grunted, slumping at the table. “We stayed up talking.”
“And making ramen at three in the morning,” I added.
His mom narrowed her eyes. “You two are impossible.”
Min Kyung walked in, dressed for work, coffee in hand. “Unnie! Your nails still look perfect!” She held up my hand and admired her own work. “Don’t forget to send me pictures if you change them!”
“I won’t,” I promised, giving her a quick hug. “Have a good day at work!”
She winked and pointed at her brother. “Try not to drive her crazy.”
After breakfast, Hoshi and I sat out on the back deck with Latte snoozing in his lap. The warm spring sun filtered through the trees, and a light breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers. It was peaceful—quiet in a way that didn’t need to be filled with words.
“I’m really glad you came with me,” he said, looking over at me with soft eyes. “My whole trip felt incomplete until I got to see you.”
I reached over to link our fingers. “Well, you made up for it by drowning me in kisses at the airport.”
“I’ll never stop doing that.”
“...The kisses or the drooling?”
“Both.”
We both burst into laughter, Latte barking once in excitement at the sudden noise.
Just then, his mom called from inside, “We’re heading to the market later! If you two want snacks or anything, write it down!”
Hoshi turned to me with a gleam in his eye. “Wanna go with them? We can pick out stuff for dinner, and maybe get some ice cream.”
“Sounds perfect.”
He leaned over to kiss my cheek, then whispered with a smirk, “Let’s wear our Mexico shirts.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not.”
Cut to twenty minutes later: we’re both wearing matching “I Love Mexico” T-shirts as we pile into the car with his parents.
That night, dinner was full of laughter, loud chopsticks, and shared glances across the table. Hoshi’s dad grilled meat outside while his mom put together a fresh spread of side dishes. We ate under the soft glow of the backyard lights, wrapped in blankets even though it wasn’t that cold—just for the vibe.
After cleaning up and helping his parents bring everything in, we snuck away back to his room while his mom watched the evening drama and his dad quietly read the paper.
Back in the bedroom, we changed into our pajamas—well, I did. Hoshi was still walking around shirtless, towel-drying his hair from his shower, looking entirely too good for someone who spent half the day eating like a gremlin.
He flopped onto the bed with a sigh, stretching out dramatically. “My bed is so small, but you somehow make it feel perfect.”
I crawled in next to him, resting my head on his chest, fingers tracing small circles over his stomach. “It’s perfect because you’re in it.”
He chuckled, one arm curling around me. “You’re really trying to beat me at my own game tonight, huh?”
I looked up at him with a smile. “You started it.”
His fingers slid along my back, slow and warm. “I can’t help it,” he whispered, voice dipping lower. “You in my space like this… it does something to me.”
We kissed slow, like we had all the time in the world. It started soft—sweet. Familiar. Then his hand slipped under my shirt and rested against my skin, and the warmth of it sent a shiver up my spine.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across my ribs. “I missed this. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
Clothes were tugged away in the dark, laughter muffled into kisses as we tried not to make too much noise. The mattress creaked beneath us, his breath hitching in my ear as he whispered my name like a secret.
It wasn’t rushed—it never was with him. Every touch felt intentional. Every kiss, a reminder of how much he adored me. We moved together like we knew each other by heart.
After, tangled up in the sheets, he pulled me close, chest still rising and falling against my back.
“You’re home to me,” he whispered, barely audible.
I turned to face him, brushing hair from his forehead. “And you’re mine.”
He kissed me again—one of those soft, tired, I’m-so-in-love-with-you kisses—and we fell asleep wrapped around each other, hearts beating slow and steady in sync.