Chapter Text
“Get back here!” Jay called.
A shriek of delighted laughter echoed through the house.
“No!” his daughter shouted.
Tiny feet pounded across the hardwood floors. Jay rounded the corner just in time to see his four-year-old daughter, Juyin, disappear behind the couch.
His daughter, unfortunately, had inherited the worst traits from both her parents. From Sunoo, she had inherited his dramatic flair, and from Jay, she had inherited enough stubbornness to challenge natural disasters.
The combination was devastating. Mostly for Jay.
“Come on, baby, you have to wear shoes,” Jay said desperately.
“No,” Juyin called from behind the couch.
“Why not?” Jay asked.
“Because I don’t want to,” she replied.
Jay stared. Juyin stared back. She had the same eyes as Sunoo, and the same expression too. He should have known then that he was doomed.
“You have to wear shoes,” Jay repeated.
Juyin shook her head. “No.”
“Sweetheart,” Jay tried.
“No,” she repeated.
Across the room, laughter erupted. Sunoo stood in the kitchen doorway holding a coffee mug. He was completely unhelpful, looking entirely entertained by the display in front of him.
“You look like you’re losing,” Sunoo observed.
“I am losing,” Jay hissed.
“She’s four,” Sunoo pointed out.
“I’m aware,” Jay replied.
Juyin gasped dramatically. “I’m almost five,” she protested.
“You turned four three months ago,” Jay reminded her.
“Almost,” She insisted.
Sunoo nearly dropped his coffee in his laughter.
Traitor.
The chase resumed. It continued for approximately ten more minutes.
Every time Jay got close, she escaped. Every time he cornered her, she somehow slipped away. At one point, she disappeared beneath the dining room table. At another point, she attempted to hide behind a curtain despite being completely visible.
Eventually, Jay caught her, but that was mostly because she got distracted trying to steal cookies from the kitchen.
The moment he scooped her up, she squealed, “Appa!”
“I got you,” Jay said.
“No fair,” she complained, but she was smiling.
“Life isn’t fair,” Jay replied, a smile of his own on his face.
“You sound like mama,” she said.
Sunoo looked offended. “I do not sound like that.”
“You absolutely do,” Jay replied.
Juyin nodded solemnly.
“Papa says that when I can’t have ice cream,” she informed him.
“Because you asked for ice cream at seven in the morning,” Sunoo sighed.
“Breakfast ice cream,” she argued.
Sunoo shook his head exasperatedly. “That’s not a thing.”
Juyin frowned. “It should be.”
Jay buried his face in her hair. He knew they’d never win this argument.
_______________________
Eventually, after much negotiation and approximately fourteen dramatic speeches, the shoes were successfully put on.
This victory was immediately celebrated by Juyin, not by her parents.
Apparently, despite avoiding them for the better part of an hour, wearing shoes made her the bravest person alive.
“Look!” she exclaimed as she stomped around proudly. “Look!”
“We’re looking,” Jay replied.
“Looooook!” she insisted again.
Jay laughed quietly. “We see the shoes, Princess.”
Satisfied, she launched herself off the couch and directly into Jay’s arms. He caught her automatically after years of practice.
Juyin wrapped her arms around his neck and then announced loudly, “My appa is the strongest alpha in the whole world.”
Jay laughed. The declaration was delivered with absolute certainty, like an indisputable fact.
“The strongest, huh?” Jay asked.
“Yep,” she answered.
“Stronger than everyone?” he pressed.
Juyin nodded. “Everyone.”
Sunoo snorted before saying, “She only says that because you let her stay up past bedtime.”
The child immediately pointed accusingly at him. “Mama!”
“What?” Sunoo asked innocently.
“Don’t expose me,” she complained.
Jay nearly dropped her in his laughter and Sunoo looked far too pleased with himself.
The little girl huffed dramatically and buried her face in Jay’s shoulder. The betrayal clearly wounded her deeply, for at least thirty seconds.
Then she demanded snacks, and the tragedy was forgotten.
_______________________
The rest of the evening passed peacefully.
After they’d gone outside like Juyin wanted, they had dinner, watched cartoons, debated about whether dinosaurs could become astronauts, and had a surprisingly intense disagreement about which stuffed animal deserved the best seat on the couch.
These were normal, simple things, the kind of things Jay once thought he’d never have.
Later, when the house grew quiet and the excitement finally faded, all three of them ended up piled together on the couch.
Their daughter lay sprawled across both of them, half asleep and clutching a stuffed wolf.
Sunoo rested comfortably against Jay’s side.
Their mating bond hummed warmly between them, familiar, comforting, and undeniably like home.
Jay looked down at them.
They were his family. The sight still amazed him sometimes.
It had been four years since he’d raced across the city, terrified he was too late. It had been four years since that restaurant and four years since the confession that had changed everything.
Back then, he’d been convinced that telling Sunoo the truth would ruin everything.
He’d spent months terrified. Terrified of losing him, terrified of making things awkward, and terrified that Sunoo would never see him the same way.
Now, looking at his omega curled against his side and his daughter sleeping across both their laps, that fear felt distant.
It felt almost unbelievable because somehow everything had worked out. Everything had worked out better than he’d ever dared imagine.
He had his mate. He had his daughter. He had his family.
He had everything he’d ever wanted and everything he’d once believed he could never have.
As though sensing his thoughts, Sunoo tilted his head and their eyes met.
“What are you thinking about?” Sunoo asked.
Jay smiled before answering, “Nothing.”
“Liar,” Sunoo accused fondly.
“Maybe a little,” Jay admitted.
Sunoo hummed knowingly and then shifted closer, resting his head against Jay’s shoulder exactly where it belonged.
“I love you, you know,” Sunoo said. The words were quiet, simple, and certain.
Jay smiled softly. “I know,” he replied. “I love you too.”
And he did know.
Sunoo smiled.
Their daughter mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep and somehow managed to steal even more of the blanket without waking up.
Neither parent questioned how because some mysteries weren’t meant to be solved.
The house was warm, the evening was quiet, and for the first time in a very long time, there was nowhere else either of them wanted to be.
They wanted to be right here, together, exactly as they were.
Jay had his mate curled against his side, their daughter sleeping peacefully between them.
And they had built a life from years of friendship, love, and finally having the courage to choose each other.
Outside, the world continued on.
Inside, everything they needed was already there.
Wrapped together on the couch, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the family they’d created, Jay and Sunoo finally had the happy ending they’d spent years believing they could never have.