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The kitchen glowed warm and soft, the last traces of dinner cleared from the table. Jay stood at the sink, sleeves rolled to his elbows, scrubbing a scorched pan like it had personally insulted him. Water dripped from his arms. Steam curled faintly around him. It was domestic, unglamorous—and somehow, unfairly attractive.
Jungwon, sock-footed and smug, sat on the counter just to his right. One leg swung lazily. The other nudged Jay’s hip every few seconds, like a gentle metronome of affection. He was perched in Jay’s space like he lived there—which, of course, he did—but it still felt like something claimed.
“You’re still at it?” Jungwon asked, tilting his head. “That pan looks cleaner than when we bought it.”
Jay grunted. “It was sabotaged. Someone turned the burner on high.”
“Oh? And who might that have been?”
“I’m not naming names,” Jay muttered, rinsing it under a steady stream. “But he was in charge of the rice and said, ‘I’ll be right back,’ and then never came back.”
Jungwon kicked him lightly again. “I was dealing with Haerin’s yogurt explosion.”
Jay gave him a look over his shoulder. “For twenty minutes?”
“She made abstract art,” Jungwon said. “You try telling her it wasn’t museum-worthy.”
Jay just shook his head, fighting a smile.
“You know,” Jungwon added, voice dropping as he leaned in a little, “watching you do dishes is kind of unfair.”
Jay side-eyed him. “Unfair?”
“Mm-hmm.” Jungwon traced an invisible pattern on Jay’s bicep with a single finger. “You, sleeves rolled up, forearms all wet... bent over the sink like that?”
Jay coughed. “Jungwon.”
“I’m just saying,” Jungwon said innocently, brushing his foot along the back of Jay’s knee, “if I were a weaker man, I’d be doing something very irresponsible right now.”
Jay turned bright red. “You're the worst.”
“And you’re pink again,” Jungwon said smugly, tapping the flushed shell of Jay’s ear. “Which is my favorite color on you.”
Jay ducked his head, flustered, as he gave the pan one final rinse. “You’re really impossible.”
“I know,” Jungwon said with a satisfied sigh. “But you married me anyway. Sucker.”
Jay reached for the dish towel, but before he could grab it, Jungwon reached out with both hands, hooked him by the front of the shirt, and tugged him forward—right into the space between his legs. Jay stumbled closer instinctively, and Jungwon didn’t waste a second. He wrapped his legs around Jay’s waist, locking his ankles behind him with a content hum.
“Oh?” Jay said, steadying himself with a hand on Jungwon’s thigh. “What’s this?”
“You’re mine now,” Jungwon whispered, grinning. “Kitchen’s clean. Time to make out.”
Jay smiled slowly, breath catching. “I was promised a kiss.”
“You were promised several.” Jungwon leaned forward, thumb slipping under the hem of Jay’s damp shirt, teasing the skin just above his waistband. “But I might charge a late fee.”
Jay’s breath hitched. “You—”
“—are about to kiss your very patient, very clingy husband,” Jungwon finished, tightening his legs slightly like a lazy trap.
Jay leaned in, eyes locked with his, nose brushing Jungwon’s. The air between them pulled taut with affection and flirtation and a slow, simmering heat.
Just as their lips were about to meet—
BANG.
Both their heads snapped toward the hallway.
Little feet. Giggling.
Then came the clamor.
“APPAAA—!! HAAAALP!”
Jay barely straightened up before Haru tumbled into the kitchen like he was being chased by a dragon.
Jungwon groaned aloud, visibly deflating, and reluctantly untangled his legs from around Jay’s waist, their warm closeness unraveling. But even as he let go, he caught Jay’s hand—and didn’t let go, fingers laced tight.
“What happened?” Jay asked, crouching with difficulty, still tethered to Jungwon, as Haru flailed dramatically in front of him.
“Bunny fell in the blanket box!” Haerin cried from the hall, out of breath. “We can’t get her!”
“And Dino’s tail is missing!” Haru added, clearly distressed.
Jungwon sighed from the counter, still holding Jay’s hand between them. “His tail is in the couch cushions. I saw you stick it there earlier.”
“No it’s not! That was a fake one!” Haru wailed.
Jay gave Jungwon a helpless glance as the kids tugged at his arms.
“I think I’m being kidnapped,” he said.
“Appa time is over,” Haerin declared, dragging him toward the hallway.
“We need Daddy now!” Haru agreed, pulling in the opposite direction.
Jay gave Jungwon’s hand one last squeeze, lips twitching into a smirk. “I was supposed to make out with my husband in the kitchen,” he said under his breath, as Jungwon gently peeled his fingers away.
Jungwon mock-pouted. “We’ll reschedule. But I’m charging interest.”
Jungwon kissed his cheek in passing as Jay was pulled away, then called after him, “I’ll try.”
The kitchen was still warm and glowing, Jungwon sighed and hopped off the counter, padding barefoot toward the stove. He picked up the stray spoon someone had abandoned on the floor and began to put away the rest of the washed dishes, humming under his breath. A leftover rice kernel clung to the cutting board like a final protest. Jungwon scraped it off with the side of his thumb and smiled to himself.
He missed Jay’s warmth already—but part of him liked this too: the quiet, the calm, the tiny pleasure of cleaning up a home full of love and noise and mischief.
Especially knowing Jay would be back in just a minute, probably still pink in the ears.
After a long while, the kitchen felt too quiet once Jungwon realized Jay wasn't back yet.
He had cleaned out the fridge and wiped down any suspicious-looking stains. His hand reached for where Jay had stood before, yet empty air met his fingers.
He sighed. “I was supposed to be making out with my husband in here,” he muttered to no one, huffing as he let out his stress on the towel in his hands. “Now I’m choking the dishrag. Great.”
The kitchen lamp hummed softly overhead. The clock blinked 8:23 p.m. Jay should’ve been back by now. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his husband with the kids — he trusted Jay more than anyone on Earth — but the man had a habit of getting sidetracked when two small clingy humans were involved.
Jungwon tossed the rag on the counter and made his way toward the hallway up the stairs, bare feet padding over the floor. The house had gone suspiciously quiet. Not the dangerous kind of quiet — no ominous silence followed by a crash — but the suspiciously cozy kind. The kind of quiet that meant something soft and ridiculous was probably happening.
He turned the corner to the kids’ shared bedroom and stopped cold.
“Oh my god,” Jungwon whispered.
It looked like a tornado had exploded inside a closet and died in the middle of the room.
Every drawer was open. The contents of said drawers — shirts, pajamas, socks, inexplicable swim goggles — were strewn across the carpet. Blankets trailed across the beds and touched the floor like lazy vines. A trail of stuffed animals formed a sort of crude perimeter. One of the closet doors had fallen off its track and leaned precariously to the side.
And then he spotted it.
A flicker of dim, multicolored light glowing near the floor.
Jungwon narrowed his eyes.
Blankets had been draped and fastened across both kids’ twin beds, forming an elaborate tunnel that ran the length of the room. The light source flickered faintly under the gap — clearly from a tablet playing some animated kids’ show. Just barely, he caught sight of two sock-clad feet poking out the far end. Definitely Jay’s. Too big and too still to be one of the kids.
Jungwon stepped carefully over a plastic dinosaur and a broken wand, lowered himself to the floor, and peered beneath the beds.
There they were: the whole scene in all its glory.
Jay was laid out flat on his back, arms folded above his head like he’d simply collapsed. His breathing was deep, but not quite even — that telltale rhythm Jungwon had come to know over the years. Not fully asleep.
Haru was curled up against his left side, watching the screen with wide eyes and a hand fisted around a plush stegosaurus. Haerin was tucked into the right, chin propped on Jay’s shoulder as she stared, entranced, at some chaotic cartoon animal doing somersaults.
Jay’s eyes stayed closed.
But the second Jungwon got within arm’s reach, Jay stirred — not from sound, not from touch, but from something else. He blinked once, slowly, and then turned his head toward Jungwon, like he felt him enter the room.
“Oh hi there,” Jay said, voice low and warm.
Haru’s head popped up like a meerkat. “Daddy!”
Haerin blinked, then smiled sleepily. “Hi Appa.”
“Hi, babies,” Jungwon said softly, crawling toward them and resting his chin on his hand just outside the blanket fort. “I came to check on you guys because your appa was supposed to come back. But clearly, he found a much better offer.”
He tilted his head, grinning as he reached over and brushed Jay’s bangs off his forehead. “You look real comfy there, by the way. Love the aesthetic. Floor chic. Blanket couture.”
Jay snorted. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m appalled,” Jungwon deadpanned. “You were gone fifteen minutes. What happened, were you overpowered?”
“They didn’t let me leave,” Jay said dramatically, still not moving. “Haru put a dinosaur on my chest and said it was a forcefield.”
Haru nodded solemnly. “It was. You couldn’t get out.”
Haerin added, “And he was warm. Like a sleepy heater.”
Jungwon smiled, reaching out to tap his fingers along Jay’s arm. “Need rescuing?”
Jay gave him the most pitiful expression he could manage from the floor. “Yes. Please.”
The kids giggled, but Jungwon didn’t hesitate.
With a low, determined sound in his throat, he scooted Haerin and Haru apart just enough to make space — not harsh, but firm — and launched himself onto Jay’s chest in one swoop.
Jay let out a startled “oof!” as Jungwon landed fully on top of him, arms wrapping tight like a stubborn koala clinging to its tree.
“Hey!” Haerin protested.
“No fair!” Haru whined.
“Excuse me,” Jungwon declared, adjusting himself shamelessly atop his very warm and very pinned-down husband, “I knew him first.”
Jay wheezed out a laugh, his hands automatically settling at Jungwon’s hips, holding him steady. “You are so possessive.”
“You like it,” Jungwon said smugly, leaning in close.
Jay flushed and couldn’t deny it. “Unfortunately.”
“See?” Jungwon grinned, dropping a kiss to Jay’s jaw — lingering, teasing — and feeling Jay twitch under him.
“Okay, that’s not fair,” Jay muttered, blushing deeper.
Jungwon raised his brows. “I was robbed blind earlier. In the kitchen. Ambushed and abandoned by my own family. So. I’m taking my husband back.”
Jay chuckled, pressing a kiss to Jungwon’s forehead as his husband remained draped across his chest like a very smug weighted blanket.
Haerin rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re being gross again.”
“We are,” Jungwon said without remorse. “I see you two redecorated. Bold choice.”
Jay snorted. “Oh, that? That was like that when I got here. Apparently, they tried looking for the dinosaur tail.”
“I see.” Jungwon glanced over at the closet disaster. “And… did you find it?”
“Yes!” Haru suddenly popped up from his blanket perch and scrambled across the floor. “Wait! I’ll show you!”
As he clambered over piles of clothes and claimed the broken tail with pride, Jungwon laughed softly.
Then — small voice, big eyes — Haru turned back and asked, “Can we all share Appa Jay and do a big hug?”
Haerin nodded firmly. “Yeah. And I’ll share my tablet so we can all watch together.”
Jungwon blinked, surprised, then hummed like he was considering it seriously. “Hmm… what do you think, Appa?” He tilted his head to peer up at Jay, eyes glinting with mischief.
Jay caught on instantly, matching the tone. “I don’t know…” He hummed, long and skeptical. “I was kind of enjoying having just you on top of me.”
“Please, please, pleeeeease!” both kids chanted, squirming closer.
Jay and Jungwon burst out laughing, finally extending their arms out in welcome. “Alright, alright,” Jay said. “Group hug, everyone in.”
Haerin curled up against Jay’s now-vacated side, tablet clutched in hand, adjusting the brightness for shared viewing. But Haru surprised everyone by worming into Jungwon’s arms instead.
“Haru?” Jungwon blinked, shifting to make room. “I thought you wanted to hug Appa Jay.”
“I did,” Haru said with perfect seriousness. “But then Appa Jungwon gonna be sad if no one hug him, so I hug him.”
Jungwon’s heart just about melted on the spot. He clutched Haru tighter, planting a kiss on his soft hair. “You little traitor,” he whispered fondly. “I love you.”
With everyone finally settled — limbs tangled, cheeks pressed, warmth shared between four sleepy bodies — they all turned their attention to the screen as animated chaos resumed.
Jay leaned down, his voice low against Jungwon’s ear. “I like this rescue mission.”
“This doesn’t make up for the missed makeout session,” Jungwon whispered back, lips barely moving.
Jay grinned. “I know. Don’t worry — I’ve got that covered next time we lock ourselves in a room.”
Jungwon squeezed his side and hummed, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Unfairly so,” Jay whispered, and kissed him again — quick and secret and right behind Haru’s head.
And in the soft hum of cartoon noise and warm bodies and shared blankets, no one let go.
Because this was theirs — all of it. Especially the mess.