Work Text:
The reception had finally ended, and the world felt like it was wrapped in golden ribbons just for them. Hyuna’s cheeks still hurt from smiling through the vows, the pictures, the dancing.
And Luka?
He swore he was floating. His hand was warm in hers, their rings glinting like the promise they had just made. Tonight, it was just them. No more family chaos, no more aunts asking when the babies were coming, no more cousins sneaking champagne. Just Hyuna and Luka, in their honeymoon suite.
They stood in front of the door like it was the gates of paradise. Luka grinned, his voice low and teasing.
“Ready for the petals and candles, Mrs. Hyuna?”
Hyuna giggled, brushing her thumb against his hand. “Of course. This is supposed to be the most romantic night ever.”
Luka twisted the key, swung the door open.
And froze.
Hyuna blinked. “…What the hell.”
Instead of a candlelit room and a single king-sized bed… there were beds. Ten of them. A whole collection scattered like furniture vomit across the suite: a bunk bed shoved against the wall, a twin bed that looked stolen from a college dorm, a fold-out cot, a suspicious futon, a couch too small for even a toddler, and, AND, sitting majestically in the corner, a pink unicorn beanbag chair.
Luka’s eye twitched. “What the fuckity fuck fuck?”
Hyuna burst out laughing so hard she nearly doubled over in her gown. “Oh my God. No. No way.”
“It’s him.” Luka groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyunwoo. I know it’s your brother. Who else would be deranged enough to do this?”
And somewhere down the hall, muffled but distinct, came the sound of someone trying (and failing) to stifle their laughter.
Hyuna shook her head, tears of amusement in her eyes. “Of course he’d prank us tonight.”
Luka kicked the leg of the futon dramatically. “I swear, this man will not know peace.”
But despite himself, Luka couldn’t stay mad. Not when Hyuna was laughing like that, her veil sliding slightly off her hair, cheeks flushed and glowing. She sat down on the unicorn beanbag, patting the spot beside her with a grin.
“Well, Mr. Luka,” she said, voice soft now, “I think we just found our honeymoon suite.”
Luka sighed, but his lips curved into that lovesick smile that always betrayed him. He dropped down beside her, the beanbag swallowing them whole until they ended up tangled together in a nest of ridiculous pink fluff. Hyuna laid her head on his shoulder as Luka softly traces patterns on her hand, spelling the vows on her skin.
And there, instead of sulking, they talked. About the apartment they wanted to buy, the trips they dreamed of taking, their hopes, their dreams, their fears, the kids Luka swore he wasn’t ready for (but Hyuna knew he secretly wanted), and all the small futures that stretched before them.
The laughter softened into whispers. Their fingers interlaced.
And Luka thought no candlelit paradise could ever compare this
The sight of his wife in his arms. Right where she belonged. Near his heart.