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“How do I tell your mom that I don’t eat seafood?”
Maybe it’s the way Beomgyu is completely and absolutely deadbeat serious when he says it. It comes out comical a fashion that Yeonjun can’t help the confused laugh that tumbles out of his mouth.
They’re sat on the hammock in the yard of Yeonjun’s childhood home with Beomgyu tucked into Yeonjun’s side. He has one arm wrapped around him, fingers gently carding through soft silky hair that’s growing a bit past his nape, and the light of the setting sun pouring down on them, basking them in a golden hue.
Beomgyu goes to stare up at him with twinkling eyes of worry, and Yeonjun decides maybe it’s that — maybe it’s the way Beomgyu looks incredibly worried for someone who’s reminding him of his food preferences.
“Huh?”
“Your mom’s cooking.” Beomgyu repeats, plays with the frayed threads of his Emotional Support Flannel (it’s a special occasion that calls for a lot of reasons to be worried, okay?), then pouts. “She told me she’s prepared seafood. Have you forgotten already?”
It’s cute, the way he says it. He’s cute. Yeonjun always knew his boyfriend was cute, but now especially more so. How he pouts, how his eyes seem to sparkle and hold the stars, how the lines on his face are present like they plan on being permanently etched there — Beomgyu is just so very cute. So cute that he’s so distracted from whatever Beomgyu is saying and the words simply enter one ear and exit the other.
Yeonjun opens his mouth to reply, but then comes to the belated realization that he doesn’t actually know what to say (because he’s so distracted, curse Beomgyu’s cuteness) and so he just. Stares. Gazes at the fringe that falls to Beomgyu’s eyes. Doesn’t even bother with the fact that he hasn’t given Beomgyu a proper reply for the past few dialogues thrown and instead reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind Beomgyu’s ear.
This makes his boyfriend whine, catching his hand by the wrist. “Listen to me.”
He freezes for a second. Takes a moment to stare at his boyfriend’s frowning face that never not demands attention, then kisses him.
“Yeonjun!”
“No hyung?” Because for some reason, that’s the most important thing to him at the moment. The lack of honorifics. It’s his turn to pout this time — the overgrown baby — shaking Beomgyu’s grip off in favor of taking his hand in his.
Beomgyu rolls his eyes at this. “You’re so annoying.”
“And you’re so cute.” Yeonjun throws back, grinning dopily and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek which earns him another whine.
There’s another cackle he can’t help, before he settles back down and rubs his own cheek against Beomgyu’s hair. “Okay I’m sorry, I’m sorry. What about my mom’s cooking?”
“Seafood…” Beomgyu mumbles, and Yeonjun is immediately hit with understanding.
“Oh my god.”
A few beats of silence, and then he’s laughing. Again.
Beomgyu is distressed, devastated, distraught, and Yeonjun is Laughing.
“You’re the worst.” Beomgyu grumbles, not easy to hear over Yeonjun’s laughter. “Like actually the worst.”
Despite the rather empty insults hurled, Yeonjun keeps laughing. He clutches his stomach and Beomgyu, being on the hammock with him, feels the entire thing shaking along with Yeonjun’s cackles.
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
Yeonjun says it like it’s such a trivial thing. Of course he’s worried about that! It’s seafood and he doesn’t eat seafood and his boyfriend is laughing at his demise. He’s so annoying but endearing that it‘s so infuriatingly hard to be mad but Beomgyu is a lot of things and stubborn is a good number of them so he tries his best to fight the urge to smile at the sight because he’s still upset and wants to look like it.
“Is this thing funny to you?” Is meant to be posed like a serious question but Yeonjun’s eyes are crinkled in mirth and his cheeks are stretched so wide Beomgyu feels it hurt for him, so it ends up coming out as another whine.
Yeonjun shakes his head, letting go of his hand to cover his own mouth to hide the rest of the laughs that threaten to escape. It takes him a few more moments to collect himself and a few moments of Beomgyu just staring helplessly at his boyfriend before said boyfriend finally sits up straighter and readjusts their position so Beomyu is sat a little more snug into his side.
“It’s not funny—the whole seafood thing, I’m sorry. I should’ve told her really—god I can’t believe I forgot.” He cards his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair once again and takes a deep breath, willing the rest of the laughter away. “It’s just that I’ve been staring at you this entire time and you had this look on your face—I thought it was something else.” He pauses, leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Then you turned to me all worried and I got nervous, what was I going to do?”
Beomgyu listens attentively, still pouting, but the furrowed brows are gone and he’s just quietly playing with Yeonjun’s fingers.
“Then,” Yeonjun continues. “Turns out it was just you worrying over Eomma cooking seafood, and you said it like it was going to be the end of the world if you told her, and it really wasn’t what I expected and you were so cute I couldn’t help myself.”
He giggles and sighs dreamily, bringing Beomgyu’s hand close to kiss his knuckles. “Oh Choi Beomgyu. The things you do to me.”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes again and lets his hand be kissed, melting into Yeonjun’s side as his head rolls onto his shoulder.
He watches Yeonjun plant another kiss. This time to the pad of his finger.
“I’ll just ask if she could cook you something else.” Yeonjun tells him, pushing his hair back.
“No!” Beomgyu gapes, shocking him in the process.
“W-Why not?”
“Because.” There’s that worried sparkle again—in his eyes. Yeonjun finds himself starstruck. There’s reluctance laced in Beomgyu’s voice that would be impossible to miss. “It’d be rude to have her prepare all those things but still ask her to cook something else.”
“Baby,” Yeonjun starts, the way he usually would when Beomgyu needs assurance at the moment. The petname slips out of his mouth easily.
“Would you rather go hungry? Eomma wouldn’t like that.”
He brushes the fringe out of his face again, and Beomgyu looks so incredibly torn.
“Yah why are you thinking so hard!” He scolds jokingly and chuckles, pressing a kiss to his temple. Beomgyu is so cute. Such a troublemaker at times but hates to cause people trouble. The furrows in his brows are back and Yeonjun swipes his fingers over them, relaxing his face before he traces his fingers down his cheeks to the line of his jaw and tips him by the chin, making the younger look into his eyes. “I’ll just cook something for you, then?”
It’s earnest, and gentle, and Beomgyu is acutely aware of how Yeonjun is gently stroking his fingers as they sway on the hammock.
Maybe it’s the nerves. He’s finally meeting the love of his life’s parents for the first time in all the months they’ve been dating.
Beomgyu is usually more confident and sure of himself than he is right now, but Yeonjun is so great and he’s such a mama’s boy, such a parent’s baby because he’s their only one, he wants to leave a good impression. Show them that their baby is in good hands. That yes, he, Choi Beomgyu, is the one who holds Choi Yeonjun’s heart, and that he doesn’t plan on breaking it anytime soon. Or anytime ever.
Maybe it’s all that and so much more because Yeonjun treats him so well even though they’re seen bickering half the time, and he always makes him feel like he’s being loved that Beomgyu wants to give it all back tenfold.
Yeonjun clicks his tongue.
Soft, pillowy, plump lips seem to have heard his worries, because they press against his and make quick work of calming him down. He feels Yeonjun tenderly kiss him one, two, three times, before he gets a taste of something salty and becomes aware of his falling tears.
“Why are you crying?” Yeonjun smiles at him, but it’s uneasy. Like he’s scared that he might’ve said something to hurt him.
Beomgyu shakes his head. Yeonjun’s never done anything to hurt him. Not intentionally. Never.
Instead of dropping a bomb on him like that, he tries to wipe his cheeks, not realizing it's the one Yeonjun is holding, accidentally bringing his along with him.
“I don’t want to look like a coward who can’t face his boyfriend’s mom.” It’s not the reason why, but between them, not even words are needed sometimes.
Yeonjun coos, and it already tells Beomgyu that he understands. Especially when Yeonjun holds him gently by the back of his head and brings him to his shoulder, hushing and patting like he would to a baby.
“We can just tell eomma.” He mumbles against his hair. It’s a comforting gesture, Beomgyu thinks, how Yeonjun responds accordingly anyway. It’s like they’re having two conversations at once. One on the surface — the verbal conversation they’re having now — and one underneath, unspoken, where he addresses all of his concerns and lets him know he hears him.
“She doesn’t know you don’t eat seafood and would rather kill than let you leave this place starving. We can let her know and it won’t be any trouble, because she’ll be more than happy to show off her wide range of cooking skills.” He kisses the crown of his head. “That okay, baby?”
Beomgyu finally nods, sniffling.
And oh, if only Beomgyu knew how he holds Yeonjun’s heart in his hands, completely leaving him at his mercy.
“You’re so cute,” Yeonjun smiles down at him, corners of his lips reaching his ears though he knows the other can’t really see from their position. “Crying because you don’t want eomma to have too much trouble with you.”
“That’s not why I’m crying.” Comes the snappy muffled reply, and Yeonjun laughs. He laughs because he knows, and because Beomgyu is so unbearably cute it’s so difficult not to.
“I know.”
He pulls apart to get a good look at Beomgyu, and always like the first time, he gets blown away. Beomgyu is just so goddamn beautiful, even when his eyes are glassy from tears. He stares and looks and gets overwhelmed with the amount of love he just has for this boy. How he doesn’t even need to move a muscle—Yeonjun will love him even then.
This is the boy he’s introducing to his parents tonight. Tonight, he’s going to show his parents who’s been making him happy. Who’s got him in a chokehold since the moment they’ve met. Who’s been making him want to drop anything just to see another day with that pretty little smile.
He thumbs at Beomgyu’s cheek to rid of any remaining tears, and he leans in to kiss him, swaying gently along the hammock like they’ve got all the time in the world before dinner time comes and Yeonjun has to tell his mom that Beomgyu doesn’t eat seafood. He kisses him softly and slowly, cupping his cheek and holding him close like he’s going to drift away with the wind if he lets go.
He kisses him one — “I love you.” Two — “I love you.” Three — “I love you.” Every single kiss leaving the both of them breathless.
Beomgyu kisses back with the same fervour after the fourth one, finding the courage to pull Yeonjun down by the nape to deepen the kiss. He parts his mouth and surrenders himself to Yeonjun, allowing him to take him whole. Yeonjun takes and takes and drinks up every sound, every whimper, every whine Beomgyu lets out against his lips, pulling him impossibly closer.
He takes and gives back as much as Beomgyu asks for, sounds of soft kissing in the air, tongue at the seam of his lips, and they kiss in a steady back and forth of loving and being loved, and they stay like that.
They’re tangled in each other’s arms until the sun finally beats down and they’re only left with the soft glow of the light inside the house, waiting for when it’s time to finally bask in its welcome.
“I’ll go tell her now?” Yeonjun asks after a little while.
Beomgyu nods.
Yeonjun gets up from the hammock, dusting himself off before leaning down to steal a kiss from Beomgyu again (because he can’t help himself) and makes his way inside quickly to tell his Mom about the Seafood Situation.
Beomgyu watches from afar how his little silhouette dances throughout the rooms of the house, making its way from door to door to the kitchen where his Mom is at. He sees him hug her from behind and kiss her on the temple when he reaches her, and also sees his dad sitting on the stool by the counter, reading whatever it is that’s on his phone.
(Yeonjun had told him before, back when they were still new and clumsy and indulged in little domestic scenarios, that: “My parents are gonna love you. Like, so much. I just know it. You’re so lovable and I love you so much it’s bound to happen.”
He had laughed it off back then, tugging Yeonjun’s arm closer with a mumbled ‘you have too much faith in me.’
Yeonjun had shook his head, pulling him close to press a kiss on his forehead. “How could I not? You’re wonderful.”)
Beomgyu indulges in the memories for a while until the older finally arrives back with a sheepish smile on his face, and brings a hand out for him to hold.
“What’s wrong?”
“We could’ve told her since a while ago. Why did we wait out here again?” Yeonjun giggles in disbelief, pulling Beomgyu up from the hammock and starts giggling even more when the younger stumbles into his arms.
“This is even more embarrassing.” Beomgyu hides his face into Yeonjun’s shirt, but he’s smiling now, body thrumming with excitement at the thought of finally meeting The Parents. The initial anxiety nerves are gone thankfully — just watching them from afar made him more eager to be a part of it.
Yeonjun must have felt his excitement, because he only holds him tighter. “They’re gonna love you.”
“I’m holding you to that.”