Archive of Our Own

The thing about lying to your family is that it always, always comes back to bite you in the ass.

Kim Taerae learned this approximately three seconds after his aunt asked - in front of the entire extended family gathered around the dinner table - why he was still single at twenty-nine.

"I'm not single," he'd blurted out, chopsticks frozen halfway to his mouth. "I have a boyfriend."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then chaos erupted. His mother dropped her spoon. His grandmother clutched her chest dramatically. His younger cousin spat out her water. And his aunt - the instigator of this disaster - clapped her hands together with enough force to summon ancient spirits.

"A boyfriend! Oh, Taerae-ya, why didn't you tell us? Bring him to Christmas! We're all going to Cheonan for the holidays anyway. Your grandmother's house has plenty of room!"

And that's how Taerae found himself standing outside a coffee shop in Seoul three days later, watching Park Gunwook through the window grin while walking towards him.

Park Gunwook. His ex-boyfriend. The man he'd broken up with eight months ago after a spectacular argument about - god, what was it? Taerae couldn't even remember anymore. Something stupid. Something that seemed important at the time but probably wasn't.

Gunwook looked good. Annoyingly good. His dark hair was styled in that effortlessly messy way that probably took fifteen minutes to perfect, and he was wearing a black turtleneck that had no business looking that good on anyone. At twenty-seven, he'd somehow gotten even more attractive, which seemed deeply unfair.

Taerae took a deep breath, pulled open the door, and walked inside.

Gunwook looked up from his phone, and his eyes widened in recognition. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face - the kind of grin that is about to cause trouble.

"Kim Taerae," Gunwook said, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. "I was wondering when I'd hear from you again. Didn't expect it to be a random "can we meet for coffee" text, though. What's wrong? Finally realized you made a terrible mistake breaking up with me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Taerae shot back, sliding into the seat across from him. "I need a favor."

"Oh, this should be good." Gunwook's grin widened. "The last time you needed a favor, I ended up helping you move apartments, and you complained the entire time about how I was holding the boxes wrong."

"You were holding them wrong! You're supposed to lift with your legs, not your back. I was trying to prevent you from injuring yourself."

"How considerate of you," Gunwook said dryly. "So what is it this time? Need help assembling furniture? Moving again? Oh god, please tell me you didn't adopt a pet you can't take care of."

"I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for Christmas."

Gunwook blinked. Once. Twice. Then he burst out laughing—a loud, genuine laugh that made several other customers turn and look at them.

"You—you're serious?" Gunwook managed between laughs. "Oh my god, you actually—did you tell your family you have a boyfriend? Taerae, that's the oldest trick in the book!"

"Are you going to help me or not?" Taerae snapped, his face heating up. This was already humiliating enough without Gunwook's commentary.

Gunwook wiped tears from his eyes, his shoulders still shaking with residual laughter. "Let me get this straight. You lied to your family about having a boyfriend, and now you need me - your ex - to come to your family Christmas in Cheonan and pretend we're still together?"

"Yes."

"And what do I get out of this?"

Taerae hadn't thought that far ahead. He'd been too busy panicking. "I'll... I'll owe you one?"

"Hyung, you already owe me three from the last favors I did for you."

"Then I'll owe you four!"

Gunwook tapped his fingers on the table, considering. His eyes glinted with mischief. "Okay, I'll do it."

Taerae felt relief wash over him. "Really?"

"On one condition."

The relief evaporated. "What condition?"

"You have to admit that the breakup was your fault."

"What? No! It was mutual!"

"It absolutely was not mutual. You're the one who said, and I quote, 'maybe we need some space to figure things out.'"

"That's not—I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then how did you mean it, Taerae?" Gunwook leaned forward, and there was something sharp beneath his playful tone. "Because to me, it sounded a lot like a breakup."

They stared at each other across the table, the air suddenly thick with tension that had nothing to do with Christmas or fake relationships.

Finally, Taerae broke eye contact. "Fine. It was my fault. Happy?"

"Fantastic," Gunwook said, but his voice had softened. "Okay, I'll do it. But I have some ground rules."

"Ground rules?"

"Rule number one: No actual feelings. This is fake. We're acting."

"Obviously."

"Rule number two: I get to mess with you. If I'm doing this favor, I'm going to enjoy myself."

Taerae's eyes narrowed. "Define 'mess with you.'"

"Oh, you'll see." Gunwook's grin was downright evil. "Rule number three: You owe me big time after this. And I mean big."

"Fine. Whatever. Just... don't make this weird, okay?"

"Me? Make things weird?" Gunwook pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I would never."

That should have been Taerae's first warning sign.

The drive to Cheonan was exactly as awkward as Taerae had feared.

Gunwook had insisted on driving, which meant Taerae was trapped in the passenger seat of Gunwook's car for two hours with nothing to do but overthink every decision that had led to this moment.

"So," Gunwook said about twenty minutes into the drive, "should we get our story straight? How did we "get back together"?"

Taerae hadn't thought about that either. He'd been too busy panicking about everything else. "I don't know. We just... did?"

"Very convincing. Your family will definitely believe that."

"Okay, genius, what do you suggest?"

Gunwook drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. "We could say we ran into each other at a coffee shop, which is technically true, and realized we still had feelings for each other."

"That's so cringe."

"You're literally asking me to fake-date you for Christmas. This entire situation is a cliché."

Taerae couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine. Coffee shop it is."

"And how long have we been 'back together'?"

"A month?"

"Make it two. More believable."

"You're weirdly good at this."

"I watch a lot of dramas," Gunwook said with a shrug. "Oh, and we should probably establish some physical boundaries. You know, for the act."

Taerae's stomach did a weird flip. "Physical boundaries?"

"Hand-holding? Hugs? Your family is going to expect us to be couple-y."

"Right. Yeah. That's... fine."

"Just fine?" Gunwook glanced at him with a smirk. "Should I be offended?"

"You're enjoying this way too much."

"Can you blame me? This is the most entertainment I've had in months."

They lapsed into silence, and Taerae stared out the window at the passing scenery. December in Korea was beautiful - bare trees dusted with snow, gray skies that promised more to come, houses decorated with twinkling lights in preparation for Christmas.

"So," Gunwook said eventually, "tell me about your family. I need to know what I'm walking into."

Taerae sighed. "My mom is going to love you. She always thought we were good together. My dad is pretty chill, but he'll probably try to talk to you about sports or cars or something manly. My grandmother is... intense. But she makes the best food you'll ever eat. And then there's my aunt - the one who started this whole mess - she's going to interrogate you like you're on trial."

"Sounds fun."

"It's going to be a nightmare."

"Hey." Gunwook's voice was surprisingly gentle. "It'll be fine. I can be charming when I want to be."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Taerae muttered.

Grandmother Kim's house in Cheonan was exactly how Taerae remembered it - a traditional hanok-style home with modern renovations, warm and cozy and currently decorated within an inch of its life for Christmas.

There were lights strung along the roof, a massive wreath on the front door, and through the windows, Taerae could see a Christmas tree that had to be at least two meters tall.

"Wow," Gunwook said, parking the car. "Your grandmother doesn't do things halfway, does she?"

"You have no idea."

They grabbed their bags from the trunk, and Taerae took a deep breath. This was it. No turning back now.

The front door flew open before they even reached it, and Taerae's mother came rushing out, her face lit up with excitement.

"Taerae-ya! You're here! And you must be—oh my goodness, Gunwook?"

Gunwook bowed politely, his most charming smile in place. "Hello, Mrs. Kim. It's good to see you again."

"I can't believe—you two are back together? Oh, this is wonderful!" She pulled Gunwook into a hug, and Taerae watched in horror as his ex-boyfriend or fake boyfriend? This was so confusing - hugged his mother back like they were old friends.

Which, technically, they were. Gunwook had met Taerae's family several times during their relationship. They'd loved him. When Taerae had told them about the breakup, his mother had been more upset about losing Gunwook than she was about her son's heartbreak.

"Come in, come in! Everyone's here. They're all so excited to meet Taerae's boyfriend!" His mother ushered them inside, and Taerae caught Gunwook's eye. The younger man was grinning like the cat that got the cream.

The inside of the house was even more decorated than the outside. Garlands hung from every available surface, Christmas stockings lined the mantle, and there were so many ornaments that Taerae wondered if his grandmother had bought out an entire store.

And there, hanging in the doorway between the living room and the dining room, was a sprig of mistletoe.

Taerae froze.

Gunwook noticed his stare and followed his gaze. His grin somehow got even wider.

"Oh no," Taerae muttered.

"Oh yes," Gunwook whispered back.

Before Taerae could process what was happening, his entire extended family descended upon them like a well-meaning mob. His father, his grandmother, his aunt, his uncle, his cousins, everyone wanted to meet the boyfriend.

And Gunwook, the absolute traitor, charmed every single one of them.

"So you're a graphic designer?" Taerae's aunt asked, her eyes gleaming with interest.

"Yes, ma'am. I work for a design agency in Seoul. Mostly branding and marketing materials."

"How impressive! And you're twenty-seven? Such a good age. Stable career, mature, handsome, Taerae, you really lucked out!"

Taerae forced a smile. "Yes. Lucky me."

Gunwook's hand found his under the table and squeezed. To anyone else, it looked like a sweet, supportive gesture. But Taerae could feel the smugness radiating from him.

"And how did you two meet again?" his grandmother asked, setting down a plate of homemade cookies.

"We met through mutual friends about three years ago," Gunwook said smoothly. "We hit it off right away. Taerae was so funny and sweet, I couldn't help but fall for him."

Taerae nearly choked on his tea.

"Oh, that's so romantic!" his cousin gushed.

"It really was," Gunwook continued, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Taerae's hand. "Even when we had that rough patch earlier this year, I never stopped loving him. I'm just glad we found our way back to each other."

The entire family made various cooing noises. Taerae wanted to die.

"You never stopped loving him?" his mother asked, her hand pressed to her heart.

Gunwook turned to look at Taerae, and there was something in his eyes that made Taerae's breath catch. "Not for a second."

Was he... was he still acting? Because that felt a little too real.

"Well, I think this calls for a celebration!" Grandmother Kim declared. "It's not every day we get such good news. Gunwook-ah, you must be tired from the drive. Let me show you where you'll be sleeping."

"They'll be sharing a room, of course," Taerae's aunt added with a wink.

Taerae's eyes went wide. "What?"

"You're adults, Taerae. And you're in a relationship. Don't be shy!"

"But—"

"Come on, I'll show you to your room," his grandmother said, already heading toward the stairs.

Taerae and Gunwook exchanged looks: Taerae panicked, Gunwook amused and followed her up the stairs.

The room was small but cozy, with traditional heated floors, a low table, and one double sleeping mat already laid out with blankets and pillows.

One. Singular. Sleeping mat.

"I hope this is comfortable enough for you both," Grandmother Kim said. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Make yourselves at home!"

She left, closing the door behind her, and Taerae immediately turned to Gunwook.

"We have to share a bed," he hissed.

"Technically, it's a sleeping mat," Gunwook pointed out.

"This is not the time for technicalities!"

"Relax, Taerae. We've shared a bed before. Remember?"

How could Taerae forget? They'd dated for a year and a half. They'd shared much more than just a bed.

But that was before. Before the breakup, before the awkwardness, before Taerae had convinced himself that getting back together with Gunwook would be a terrible idea, no matter how much he sometimes—

No. Not going there.

"That was different," Taerae said firmly.

"How?"

"It just was!"

Gunwook sat down on the sleeping mat, testing it. "Well, this is the situation we're in. Unless you want to tell your family the truth?"

"No!"

"Then I guess we're roommates for the next few days." Gunwook lay back, his hands behind his head, looking completely at ease. "Could be worse."

Taerae ran a hand through his hair, feeling stressed. This was fine. Everything was fine. They were both adults. They could handle sharing a sleeping space for a few nights without it being weird.

Right?

Dinner was a chaos.

Grandmother Kim had prepared enough food to feed a small army: japchae, bulgogi, kimchi jjigae, various banchan, and about a dozen other dishes that covered every available surface on the table. Christmas music played softly from a speaker in the corner, and the whole house smelled like pine and cinnamon and home-cooked food.

Taerae had to admit, despite the stress of the situation, it was nice to be home.

"So, Gunwook-ah," his uncle said, pouring him a glass of soju, "what are your intentions with our Taerae?"

Taerae nearly inhaled his rice.

"Uncle!" he sputtered.

"What? It's a fair question! You're twenty-nine, Taerae. At your age, I was already married."

"Different generation," Taerae muttered.

Gunwook, completely unfazed, accepted the soju with a bow. "My intentions are completely honorable, sir. I care about Taerae very much. He's special to me."

Again, that tone. That look. Was Gunwook just an incredible actor, or was there something else beneath the surface?

"Good answer," his uncle said approvingly. "You're a good guy, Gunwook. Much better than that friend of Taerae's who came to visit last year—what was his name? Minseok? That kid couldn't even use chopsticks properly."

"Minseok is not and has never been more than a friend," Taerae said through gritted teeth.

"Well, I like this one." His grandmother patted Gunwook's hand affectionately. "You should keep him, Taerae-ya."

"I plan to," Taerae said, trying to sound convincing.

Under the table, Gunwook's foot nudged his. When Taerae looked over, the younger man was grinning at him with that infuriating, knowing smile.

After dinner, the family migrated to the living room, where Grandmother Kim had set up a impressive display of Christmas decorations. The tree was covered in ornaments - some store-bought, some clearly handmade by various family members over the years. Taerae spotted one he'd made in elementary school, a lopsided star covered in too much glitter.

"Oh, look at this one!" his mother said, pulling out an ornament shaped like a snowman. "Taerae made this in third grade. He was so proud of it."

"Mom, please—"

"And this one!" She held up another ornament, this one shaped like a reindeer with googly eyes. "He cried when the eyes fell off, so his father had to glue them back on."

Gunwook was laughing, and Taerae wanted to sink into the floor.

"Do you have any embarrassing childhood stories?" Taerae's cousin asked Gunwook eagerly.

"Oh, plenty," Gunwook said. "But Taerae's are much more entertaining."

"Traitor," Taerae muttered.

The evening wore on with more talking, more eating (Grandmother Kim kept bringing out snacks), and more stories that made Taerae want to change his identity and move to another country.

Gunwook fit in seamlessly with his family. He laughed at his uncle's jokes, complimented his grandmother's cooking, discussed graphic design trends with his aunt who worked in marketing, and even played a video game with his younger cousins.

It was almost too perfect. Like he'd never left. Like the last eight months hadn't happened.

Around eleven, people started heading to bed. Taerae's aunt gave them a knowing wink as she said goodnight, which made Taerae want to die all over again.

Finally, it was just Taerae and Gunwook left in the living room, cleaning up the last of the dishes.

"Your family is great," Gunwook said, drying a plate. "I forgot how welcoming they are."

"They love you more than they love me," Taerae grumbled.

"That's because I'm charming and delightful."

"You're insufferable."

"You used to find it endearing."

Taerae didn't have a response to that, so he focused on scrubbing a pot with more force than necessary.

"Hey," Gunwook said, his voice softer. "Thank you for dinner. It was really nice."

Taerae glanced at him, surprised. "You don't have to thank me. You're doing me a huge favor."

"Still. It's been a while since I had a proper family dinner like that. My parents are overseas and my brother goes out with his girlfriend, so..." He shrugged. "This was nice."

Something in Taerae's chest tightened. He'd forgotten that Gunwook's family situation was complicated. His parents had always been supportive but distant, and the holidays were usually quiet affairs.

"Well," Taerae said awkwardly, "you're welcome here anytime. My grandmother already decided you're her favorite, so."

Gunwook smiled, a real smile, not the teasing grin he'd been wearing all day. "Good to know."

They finished the dishes in comfortable silence, and then headed upstairs to their shared room.

The sleeping mat seemed to have shrunk since they'd last seen it.

"So," Gunwook said, pulling his shirt over his head (and holy hell, when did he start working out?), "which side do you want?"

Taerae forced himself to look away. "I don't care. Whatever."

"I'll take the left then."

They got ready for bed in awkward silence - brushing teeth, changing into pajamas, carefully avoiding eye contact in the mirror. When they finally settled onto the sleeping mat, there was approximately three inches of space between them.

Taerae lay rigidly on his back, staring at the ceiling. He could feel the heat radiating from Gunwook's body, could hear his steady breathing.

"Relax," Gunwook said in the darkness. "I'm not going to bite."

"I am relaxed."

"You're so tense I could bounce a coin off your shoulders."

"Shut up."

A pause. Then: "Do you remember the first time we slept in the same bed?"

Taerae did remember. They'd been dating for a month, and it had been completely innocent—they'd fallen asleep watching a movie at Gunwook's apartment. Taerae had woken up with Gunwook's arm around his waist and had felt so happy he thought his heart might burst.

"We watched The Matrix," Taerae said quietly. "You fell asleep halfway through."

"Because you wouldn't stop explaining the philosophy behind it. You talked for thirty minutes about the allegory of the cave."

"It's a valid analysis!"

"It's also incredibly boring at one in the morning."

"You could have told me to stop talking."

"I liked hearing you talk," Gunwook said. "Even when you were being a pretentious film major about it."

Taerae's heart did something complicated in his chest. "I wasn't a film major. I majored in business."

"You could have fooled me."

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it felt different. Heavier. Filled with something Taerae didn't want to name.

"Gunwook?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you really agree to do this?"

A long pause. Then: "Because you asked."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

But Taerae didn't believe him. There was something else, something unspoken hanging in the air between them.

Before he could push further, Gunwook rolled over, turning his back to Taerae. "Goodnight, Taerae."

"Goodnight," Taerae whispered to the darkness.

It took him a very long time to fall asleep.

The next morning, Taerae woke up warm and comfortable and completely confused about why there was an arm draped over his waist.

Then he remembered.

Gunwook.

Fake boyfriend.

Shared sleeping mat.

And apparently, cuddling in his sleep.

Taerae's eyes flew open. Sure enough, Gunwook was pressed against his back, his arm wrapped around Taerae's middle, his face buried in Taerae's neck.

This was fine. This was normal. People shifted in their sleep all the time.

Except Gunwook was also making a soft, content humming noise that was doing absolutely nothing to help Taerae's heart rate return to normal.

"Gunwook," Taerae whispered. "Wake up."

"Mmph."

"Gunwook. You're cuddling me."

"'M cold."

"It's not cold. The floor is heated."

"Still cold." Gunwook's arm tightened around him. "You're warm."

This was torture. Actual torture.

"Park Gunwook, if you don't let go of me right now—"

"Fine, fine." Gunwook finally released him and rolled away, rubbing his eyes. His hair was sticking up in about fifty-two different directions, and he had pillow creases on his cheek, and he looked unfairly adorable.

Taerae hated him.

"Did you sleep well?" Gunwook asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Fine," Taerae lied. He'd actually slept terribly because he'd been very aware of every movement, every breath, every tiny shift from the man beside him.

"Liar. You tossed and turned all night."

"How would you know?"

"Because you kept kicking me."

"I did not!"

"You absolutely did. You're a violent sleeper."

"I am not violent!"

"You once elbowed me in the ribs so hard I thought you'd cracked a bone."

"That was one time!"

They were bickering. Already. At seven in the morning. This was going to be a long few days.

A knock on the door interrupted their argument. "Boys? Are you awake? Breakfast is ready!"

"Coming, Grandma!" Taerae called back.

They got dressed quickly and Taerae trying very hard not to look at Gunwook changing and headed downstairs.

Breakfast was another feast. Grandmother Kim had prepared rice, soup, grilled fish, and various side dishes. The whole family was already gathered around the table, looking disgustingly cheerful for this early in the morning.

"Did you two sleep well?" his aunt asked with a sly smile.

"Very well," Gunwook said smoothly, taking a seat next to Taerae. "Best sleep I've had in months."

Liar.

"That's wonderful!" his mother said. "We have a busy day today. We're going to the Christmas market in downtown Cheonan this afternoon. They have vendors, food stalls, carolers and it's lovely. You two will come, won't you?"

"Of course," Taerae said, because what else could he say?

After breakfast, Taerae found himself helping his grandmother prepare ingredients for dinner while Gunwook was roped into moving furniture with his uncle and father.

"He's a good boy," his grandmother said, cutting vegetables with practiced ease. "Very polite. And handsome!"

"I know, Grandma."

"You better treat him well, Taerae-ya. Boys like that don't come around often."

Guilt twisted in Taerae's stomach. If only she knew this was all fake.

"I will," he promised.

Through the doorway, he could see Gunwook laughing at something his father said, easily lifting a heavy cabinet that Taerae probably would have struggled with. His muscles flexed under his shirt, and Taerae definitely did not notice.

"Taerae-ya, you're cutting those carrots very unevenly," his grandmother noted.

"Sorry," he muttered, refocusing on the vegetables.

The Christmas market was exactly as crowded and festive as Taerae remembered from childhood. Vendors sold everything from handmade ornaments to hot cocoa, and Christmas music played from speakers hidden among the decorations. Snow had started falling earlier that morning, dusting everything in a layer of white that made the whole scene look like a postcard.

Taerae's family scattered quickly, his parents went to look at pottery, his aunt and uncle headed for the food stalls, his cousins made a beeline for the game booths.

Which left Taerae and Gunwook alone in the crowd.

"So," Gunwook said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "what do you want to look at first?"

"I don't know. We could just walk around?"

"Sounds good."

They wandered through the market, falling into an easy rhythm despite the awkwardness of the situation. Gunwook stopped to examine some handmade candles, Taerae looked at a booth selling vintage ornaments, and they both agreed that the inflatable Santa decoration one vendor was selling was absolutely hideous.

"Who would buy that?" Gunwook asked, incredulous.

"Someone with terrible taste," Taerae agreed.

"So... you?"

"Hey!"

Gunwook laughed, dodging Taerae's swat. "Come on, you have to admit your apartment decoration skills are questionable at best."

"My apartment looks fine!"

"You have a poster of a cat hanging from a branch that says 'hang in there.' Ironically, you claimed, but I have my doubts."

"It was a gift!"

"From who?"

"My cousin."

"The twelve-year-old?"

"She's thirteen now, and yes."

"My point exactly."

They continued bickering as they walked, and somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling awkward and started feeling... familiar. Natural. Like old times.

Dangerous territory.

"Oh, look!" Gunwook said suddenly, pointing. "They have tteokbokki!"

Taerae's stomach rumbled. "We literally ate an hour ago."

"So? There's always room for tteokbokki."

They got in line at the food stall, and Taerae found himself standing close to Gunwook to avoid being jostled by the crowd. Close enough that their shoulders touched. Close enough that Taerae could smell Gunwook's cologne - the same one he'd always worn, woody and clean.

"Two orders of tteokbokki, please," Gunwook told the vendor. "Extra spicy."

"I don't want extra spicy," Taerae protested.

"You love spicy food."

"Not extra spicy. My stomach can't handle it anymore."

"You're getting old," Gunwook said solemnly.

"I'm twenty-nine, not ninety."

"Still older than me."

"By two years!"

"Old," Gunwook said, grinning.

The vendor handed them their food: one regular spicy and one extra spicy after Gunwook changed the order following Taerae's complaint. After that, they found a bench near a small Christmas tree to sit and eat.

"This is really good," Taerae said around a mouthful of rice cake.

"Better than that place near your apartment?"

"Way better."

They ate in silence, watching people pass by- families with young children, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing together. Christmas carolers were set up near the fountain, singing a surprisingly good rendition of "Silent Night."

"Your family really loves Christmas," Gunwook observed.

"My grandmother especially. She goes all out every year." Taerae paused. "Do you remember that Christmas we spent together? The one where it snowed so much we got stuck in my apartment for two days?"

"How could I forget? We watched every Christmas movie ever made and ate our weight in fried chicken."

"You complained about my movie choices the entire time."

"Because you made us watch Love Actually twice!"

"It's a classic!"

"It's two and a half hours of British people being emotionally repressed!"

"That's what makes it good!"

They were laughing now, and it felt so easy, so right, that Taerae almost forgot this was all supposed to be fake.

Almost.

"Taerae! Gunwook!"

They turned to see Taerae's mother waving at them from across the market, his father beside her holding several shopping bags.

"We're heading back to the house to help Grandma prepare dinner!" she called. "You two take your time! Enjoy the market!"

"Okay!" Taerae called back.

Once his parents had disappeared into the crowd, Gunwook turned to him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"So we have the afternoon to ourselves," he said.

"Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?"

"Whatever you're planning. I know that look."

"I'm not planning anything," Gunwook said innocently. "I just think we should make the most of our time here. You know, really sell the boyfriend act."

"What does that even mean?"

Gunwook stood up, brushing rice cake crumbs off his pants. "Come on. I saw something earlier I want to check out."

Before Taerae could protest, Gunwook grabbed his hand and pulled him into the crowd.

His hand was warm and his grip was firm and Taerae's heart was doing gymnastics in his chest.

This was fine. This was all part of the act.

Right?

Gunwook led him to a booth near the center of the market that Taerae had missed before. It was selling Christmas ornaments, but not the regular kind - these were personalized, with names and dates engraved on them.

"We should get one," Gunwook said.

"Why?"

"For your grandmother. As a thank you for letting us stay."

That was... actually thoughtful. Suspiciously thoughtful.

"Okay," Taerae agreed.

They spent fifteen minutes choosing the perfect ornament - a silver bell with delicate snowflake patterns—and had it engraved with "Kim Family Christmas 2025." The vendor promised it would be ready in an hour.

"We can pick it up before we head back," Gunwook said.

They continued walking through the market, hand in hand because Gunwook hadn't let go and Taerae wasn't going to be the one to pull away first. That would be admitting something. What, exactly, he wasn't sure. But something.

"Look at that," Gunwook said, stopping in front of a booth selling Christmas wreaths. "That one has mistletoe in it."

Taerae felt his face heat up. "So?"

"So, mistletoe is for kissing." Gunwook's tone was teasing, but there was something else underneath it. Something that made Taerae's pulse quicken.

"I'm aware of what mistletoe is for."

"Are you?" Gunwook turned to face him fully, and suddenly they were standing very close. "Because you seemed pretty determined to avoid that sprig hanging in your grandmother's doorway."

"I wasn't avoiding it."

"You walked around the long way through the kitchen three separate times yesterday to avoid going under it."

"That's not—I was just—there was more room that way!"

"Uh-huh." Gunwook's eyes were dancing with amusement. "Sure."

"Why do you even care?"

"Because," Gunwook said, stepping closer, "we're supposed to be selling this. And couples kiss under mistletoe. It's tradition."

"We don't have to do everything traditionally—"

"Are you scared, Kim Taerae?"

And there it was. The challenge. Gunwook knew exactly which buttons to push.

"I'm not scared," Taerae said, lifting his chin. "I just don't think it's necessary."

"Mmm." Gunwook's gaze dropped to Taerae's lips for just a second before returning to his eyes. "Okay."

He let go of Taerae's hand and walked away, leaving Taerae standing there feeling off-balance and confused and inexplicably disappointed.

They picked up the ornament an hour later and headed back to the house just as the sun was starting to set. The temperature had dropped, and their breath came out in visible puffs as they walked.

"That was actually kind of fun," Gunwook said.

"Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not. I always had fun with you." He paused. "That's why the breakup was so..."

"So what?"

"Confusing," Gunwook finished quietly. "One day we were fine, and the next you were saying you needed space. I never really understood what happened."

Taerae's chest tightened. They'd never actually talked about this. After the breakup, they'd gone their separate ways with barely a conversation. Clean break, he'd told himself. Easier that way.

"I don't know either," Taerae admitted. "I think I just... I got scared."

"Of what?"

"Of how serious it was getting. We'd been together for a year and a half, and you were talking about moving in together, and I just panicked."

"So you broke up with me instead of talking about it?"

"I know. It was stupid."

"Yeah," Gunwook agreed. "It really was."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Then Gunwook said, "For what it's worth, I would have waited. If you'd told me you needed to slow down, I would have understood."

"I know," Taerae said softly. "That's what made it worse."

When they arrived back at the house, the smell of cooking food hit them immediately. Grandmother Kim was in full preparation mode for Christmas dinner, and the entire extended family had been recruited to help.

"There you are!" his aunt said. "Perfect timing. Gunwook-ah, can you help move that table? And Taerae, your grandmother needs someone to taste-test the soup."

They were immediately swept up in the chaos of dinner preparation. Taerae found himself in the kitchen, being fed spoonfuls of various dishes by his grandmother while she fretted about whether there was enough food.

"Grandma, you've made enough to feed fifty people."

"But what if someone wants seconds? Or thirds?"

"Then there will still be enough."

Through the doorway, he could see Gunwook helping his father set up the table, laughing at something his uncle was saying. He fit so perfectly here, like he'd never left.

"He's a keeper, that one," his grandmother said, following his gaze.

"Yeah," Taerae said before he could stop himself. "He is."

Dinner was a loud, chaotic affair with everyone talking over each other, passing dishes back and forth, and telling stories. Gunwook sat next to Taerae, their thighs pressed together because the table was crowded, and every accidental touch felt like a shock of electricity.

"So," Taerae's aunt said during a lull in conversation, "any plans for the future? Marriage, maybe?"

Taerae choked on his water.

"Auntie," he managed once he could breathe again, "we've only been back together for two months."

"So? When you know, you know! Your uncle and I got engaged after three months."

"Different generation," Taerae muttered again.

"I think," Gunwook said carefully, "we're taking things one day at a time. But I can say that I'm very serious about Taerae."

The way he said it - so sincere, so genuine - made Taerae's heart stutter. This was acting, right? This had to be acting.

But it didn't feel like acting.

After dinner, the family gathered in the living room again. Someone had turned on a Christmas movie, and the younger cousins were playing a board game in the corner. It was cozy and warm and exactly the kind of family Christmas that Taerae had been looking forward to.

Except now he couldn't stop thinking about Gunwook. About the way he'd looked at him in the market. About the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. About everything they'd said and not said over the past two days.

"I'm going to get some air," Taerae announced, standing up.

"It's freezing outside," his mother protested.

"I'll just be a minute."

He grabbed his coat and slipped out the front door onto the porch. The cold air hit him like a slap, but it helped clear his head. Snow was falling again, soft and gentle, coating everything in white.

The door opened behind him.

"Running away?" Gunwook asked, coming to stand beside him.

"No. Just needed a minute."

"To think about how to avoid the mistletoe for the rest of the trip?"

"You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope."

Taerae sighed, his breath fogging in the cold air. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Because," Gunwook said, turning to face him, "I need to know if you feel it too."

"Feel what?"

"This." Gunwook gestured between them. "Whatever this is. Because I came here thinking I could pretend for a few days and then go back to my life and forget about you. But being here with you, with your family, it's just..." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "It's making me remember why I fell for you in the first place."

Taerae's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. "Gunwook—"

"And I know this is fake. I know this whole thing is just an act to get your family off your back. But it doesn't feel fake to me, Taerae. It hasn't felt fake since the moment I agreed to come."

"It doesn't feel fake to me either," Taerae whispered.

Gunwook's eyes widened. "What?"

"I said it doesn't feel fake." The words were tumbling out now, eight months of regret and longing coming to the surface. "I thought I was over you. I thought the breakup was the right choice. But then I saw you at the coffee shop and I realized I'd made the biggest mistake of my life letting you go."

"Then why—"

"Because I'm scared!" Taerae's voice cracked. "I'm scared of messing it up again. I'm scared of hurting you. I'm scared that I'm not good enough for you, that I'll never be good enough—"

Gunwook closed the distance between them in two steps, cupping Taerae's face in his hands. "Stop. Just stop. You're good enough, Taerae. You've always been good enough."

Taerae's eyes were burning. He was not going to cry. He was not.

"I don't want to fake this anymore," Gunwook said, his voice rough. "I want it to be real."

"Me too," Taerae breathed.

"So what do we do about it?"

"I don't know. Figure it out as we go?"

"That's a terrible plan."

"Do you have a better one?"

Gunwook smiled - that soft, genuine smile that Taerae had missed so much. "No. But I'm willing to try if you are."

"Yeah," Taerae said. "I'm willing to try."

They stood there on the porch, snow falling around them, just looking at each other. The moment felt suspended in time, perfect and fragile.

"We should go back inside," Gunwook said eventually. "It's freezing out here."

"Yeah."

But neither of them moved.

"Although," Gunwook said, his smile turning mischievous, "there is one thing we should probably take care of first."

"What's that?"

"We never actually kissed under the mistletoe."

Taerae's breath caught. "There's no mistletoe out here."

"No," Gunwook agreed. "But there's one inside. Right in the doorway."

"You want to go kiss under my grandmother's decorative mistletoe."

"I want to kiss you, Taerae. The mistletoe is just a convenient excuse."

And oh. Oh.

"Okay," Taerae said.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

They went back inside, and the warmth of the house enveloped them immediately. The family was still gathered in the living room, absorbed in the movie.

Gunwook took Taerae's hand and led him toward the doorway between the living room and dining room. The doorway with the mistletoe hanging directly above it.

Of course, his aunt noticed immediately.

"Oh my god, everyone look! They're under the mistletoe!"

And just like that, the entire family's attention was on them.

"You have to kiss!" his cousin shouted. "It's tradition!"

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" the younger cousins started chanting.

Taerae felt his face burning. "This is so embarrassing."

"You're the one who started this whole fake boyfriend thing," Gunwook pointed out. "Might as well commit to it."

"It's not fake anymore, remember?"

"Even better reason to kiss me, then."

Taerae looked at him - really looked at him. At the warmth in his eyes, at the soft smile on his lips, at the way he was looking at Taerae like he was the only person in the world.

"Screw it," Taerae muttered, and pulled Gunwook down into a kiss.

It was soft at first, tentative, like they were both afraid of breaking the moment. But then Gunwook's arms wrapped around Taerae's waist, pulling him closer, and Taerae's hands found their way to Gunwook's hair, and the kiss deepened into something that was definitely not appropriate for family audiences.

The room erupted in cheers and applause.

They broke apart, both breathless, and Taerae buried his face in Gunwook's shoulder, mortified.

"That was quite a show," Gunwook said, sounding far too pleased with himself.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Taerae pulled back just enough to glare at him, but there was no heat in it. "You're insufferable."

"You love it."

And the thing was, he did. He really, really did.

"Get a room!" one of his cousins yelled, and the whole family laughed.

"Actually," his grandmother said, wiping tears from her eyes, "I think that's enough excitement for one night. Why don't we all head to bed? We have Christmas Eve activities tomorrow."

There was general agreement, and people started heading upstairs, still talking and laughing about the kiss.

Taerae's mother pulled him aside on the way up. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. You two are good together."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Don't let this one go," she said seriously. "Boys like Gunwook don't come around often."

"I know," Taerae said. "I'm not planning to."

When they finally made it to their room and closed the door, Taerae immediately collapsed onto the sleeping mat.

"That was mortifying."

"That was perfect," Gunwook corrected, lying down beside him.

"Your definition of perfect is concerning."

"Hey." Gunwook rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. "Are we really doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This. Us. For real this time."

Taerae turned to face him. In the dim light from the streetlamp outside, Gunwook's features were soft, his expression vulnerable.

"Yeah," Taerae said. "For real this time."

"Even though you're scared?"

"Especially because I'm scared. Because you're worth being scared for."

Gunwook smiled, and it was like the sun coming out. "That was surprisingly romantic."

"Don't get used to it."

"Too late."

Gunwook leaned in and kissed him again, slow and sweet and full of promise. When they broke apart, he settled back onto the sleeping mat, pulling Taerae against his chest.

"Is this okay?" Gunwook asked.

"Yeah," Taerae said, relaxing into his embrace. "This is okay."

"Good. Because I'm not letting go this time."

"Clingy."

"You like it."

And he did. Taerae really, really did.

Christmas Eve dawned bright and cold, with fresh snow covering everything in pristine white. Taerae woke up exactly where he'd fallen asleep - wrapped in Gunwook's arms, warm and content and happy.

Gunwook was still asleep, his hair adorably mussed, his expression peaceful. Taerae took a moment to just look at him, to memorize this moment, because he never wanted to forget how this felt.

"I can feel you staring," Gunwook mumbled, not opening his eyes.

"No you can't."

"Yes I can. You're being creepy."

"I am not being creepy!"

Gunwook's eyes opened, and he was grinning. "Good morning to you too."

"Good morning," Taerae said, softer.

"Sleep well?"

"Better than I have in months."

"Same." Gunwook's arms tightened around him. "We should probably get up."

"Probably."

Neither of them moved.

"Okay, seriously, we need to get up," Gunwook said after another minute. "Your grandmother is probably already cooking breakfast, and if we're late, she'll worry."

"Fine," Taerae grumbled, but he was smiling.

They got ready quickly and headed downstairs to find the entire house in a state of controlled chaos. Today was Christmas Eve, which meant even more cooking, decorating, and general festive madness.

"There you are!" Grandmother Kim said. "Perfect timing. I need you both to help me make the songpyeon for tonight."

"We're having songpyeon for Christmas?" Taerae asked, confused. That was traditionally a Chuseok food.

"It's your grandfather's favorite," she said softly. "He's not with us anymore, but I like to make it every year to remember him."

Taerae felt his throat tighten. He'd loved his grandfather, who had passed away five years ago. "That's really nice, Grandma."

"Come on," she said, ushering them into the kitchen. "I'll teach you both."

Making songpyeon turned out to be much harder than it looked. Gunwook was surprisingly good at it, shaping the rice cakes with careful precision. Taerae, on the other hand, kept making lumpy, misshapen disasters.

"How are you bad at this?" Gunwook asked, examining one of Taerae's attempts. "It looks like a potato."

"It does not look like a potato!"

"It absolutely looks like a potato."

"You're the worst fake boyfriend ever."

"I'm your real boyfriend now, remember? You're stuck with me."

Taerae felt warmth spread through his chest at the word. Boyfriend. Gunwook was his boyfriend again.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "I guess I am."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. There was more cooking, more decorating, and a trip to a nearby church for Christmas Eve service (which Taerae hadn't attended in years but his grandmother insisted on). The church was beautiful, decorated with candles and poinsettias, and the choir sang carols that made Taerae feel like a kid again.

Gunwook sat beside him, their shoulders touching, and at one point reached over to hold his hand. It was such a simple gesture, but it meant everything.

After the service, they returned to the house for Christmas Eve dinner - a massive feast that included the songpyeon, bulgogi, japchae, and about a dozen other dishes. The whole family gathered around the table, passing food and stories and laughter.

"I want to make a toast," Grandmother Kim said, standing up with her glass. "To family. To love. To being together during this special time of year. And to Taerae and Gunwook, who remind us all what it means to find your way back to the person you're meant to be with."

Everyone raised their glasses, and Taerae felt his eyes prickling with tears. Gunwook's hand found his under the table and squeezed.

"To family," everyone chorused.

After dinner, they exchanged gifts. Taerae and Gunwook presented the engraved ornament to Grandmother Kim, and she cried (happy tears, she insisted) and immediately hung it on the tree in a place of honor.

"This is beautiful," she said, hugging them both. "Thank you."

Gunwook had also, apparently, bought gifts for Taerae's entire family without telling him. Thoughtful gifts too - a scarf for his mother in her favorite color, a book about Korean history for his father, handmade soaps for his aunt. Everyone was charmed.

"You didn't have to do that," Taerae said once they'd retreated to a quiet corner.

"I wanted to," Gunwook said simply. "They're important to you, so they're important to me."

Taerae's heart did that complicated thing again where it felt too big for his chest. "I didn't get you anything."

"Yes you did."

"I didn't—"

"You gave me another chance," Gunwook said. "That's the best gift I could ask for."

And that was it. Taerae couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Gunwook's hand and pulled him toward the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Gunwook asked, laughing.

"Our room. I need to kiss you without my entire family watching."

"I'm not complaining."

They made it to their room, and Taerae barely had the door closed before he was kissing Gunwook again, pouring eight months of regret and longing and love into it. Gunwook kissed him back just as fiercely, his hands tangling in Taerae's hair, pulling him closer.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Gunwook rested his forehead against Taerae's.

"I missed you," he said. "So much."

"I missed you too," Taerae admitted. "Every single day."

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me that if you get scared again, you'll talk to me instead of running away."

"I promise," Taerae said. "No more running away."

"Good." Gunwook kissed him again, softer this time. "Because I'm not letting you go again. You're stuck with me, Kim Taerae."

"I can live with that," Taerae said, smiling against his lips.

They spent the rest of the evening curled up on their sleeping mat, talking about everything and nothing - making plans for when they got back to Seoul, discussing whether they should move in together (eventually, they agreed, but not right away), arguing about whose apartment was better (Gunwook's, objectively, but Taerae would never admit it).

"Hey," Gunwook said during a lull in conversation. "Thank you for asking me to come here."

"Thank you for saying yes. Even though I basically blackmailed you."

"You didn't blackmail me. I came because I wanted to."

"You came because you wanted me to admit the breakup was my fault."

"Okay, that too," Gunwook admitted with a grin. "But mostly I came because I wasn't ready to let you go. I think part of me was hoping something like this would happen."

"Something like what? Me having a crisis and dragging you to my family Christmas?"

"Something like us finding our way back to each other."

Taerae's chest felt warm and full. "You're such a romantic."

"Only for you."

They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, and Taerae slept better than he had in eight months.

Christmas Day was pure chaos.

Taerae woke up to the sound of his younger cousins running through the hallways, screaming about Santa Claus and presents. Gunwook groaned and buried his face in Taerae's neck.

"What time is it?" he mumbled.

"Too early," Taerae said, but he was smiling.

They eventually dragged themselves out of bed and downstairs, where the living room had been transformed. Presents were piled under the tree, Christmas music was playing, and Grandmother Kim was already in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

The morning was a blur of gift-opening, eating, and general mayhem. Taerae's parents gave him a nice watch, his grandmother knitted him a scarf, and his cousins got him various gag gifts that made everyone laugh.

To his surprise, Gunwook handed him a small wrapped box.

"I thought you said you didn't get me anything," Taerae said.

"I lied. Open it."

Inside was a simple leather bracelet with a small silver charm—a star.

"You always said I was your north star," Gunwook explained, looking almost shy. "That I helped you find your way when you were lost. I bought this months ago, before we broke up, and I never had the chance to give it to you. I was going to throw it away, but..." He shrugged. "I couldn't."

Taerae felt tears prickling his eyes. "Gunwook..."

"Too much?"

"No. It's perfect." Taerae put the bracelet on immediately. "I love it. But I really didn't get you anything—"

"Actually," Taerae's mother interrupted, appearing with a wrapped box, "this came for Gunwook yesterday. It was delivered to the house."

Gunwook looked confused as he took the box and opened it. Inside was a high-end set of professional drawing pencils - the exact brand he'd been wanting to buy but couldn't justify the expense.

"I ordered them two weeks ago," Taerae admitted. "Before I even asked you to come here. I was going to give them to you for Christmas anyway, even if we weren't... you know."

"You remembered," Gunwook said softly.

"Of course I remembered. You only talked about these pencils for like three months straight."

Gunwook set the box down carefully and pulled Taerae into a hug, not caring that they had an audience. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Okay, this is adorable and all," Taerae's aunt said, "but can we get back to opening presents? I want to see what I got!"

The rest of Christmas Day was exactly what a holiday should be: loud and chaotic and full of love. They played games, ate too much food, watched Christmas movies, and at one point had a massive snowball fight in the backyard that left everyone soaking wet and laughing.

As the sun started to set, Taerae found himself standing by the window, watching the snow fall. Gunwook came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Taerae's waist.

"What are you thinking about?" Gunwook asked.

"How perfect this is," Taerae said. "How happy I am."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Taerae turned in his arms. "I know we have a lot to figure out. About us, about what happens when we get back to Seoul, about all of it. But right now, in this moment, I'm just really happy."

"Me too," Gunwook said. "And for the record, I think we're going to figure it out just fine."

"You sound pretty confident about that."

"I am. Because this time, we're going to actually communicate instead of letting things build up until they explode."

"When did you become so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You just never listened."

"That's fair," Taerae admitted.

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, and Taerae felt something settle in his chest. Peace. Contentment. The feeling of being exactly where he was supposed to be.

"Hey," Gunwook said. "Look up."

Taerae glanced up and realized they were standing directly under the mistletoe again.

"Really?" he said, but he was smiling.

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for tradition."

"You're a sucker for attention."

"Also true." Gunwook leaned down, his lips hovering just above Taerae's. "So are you going to kiss me or not?"

"I guess I have to," Taerae said. "It's tradition, after all."

"Exactly."

Taerae closed the distance between them, kissing Gunwook soft and sweet under the mistletoe, and it felt like coming home.

When they broke apart, the entire family was watching them from the living room, grinning like idiots.

"You know what?" Taerae said. "I don't even care anymore."

"Character growth," Gunwook said approvingly.

"Shut up and kiss me again."

"With pleasure."

And as snow continued to fall outside and Christmas music played softly in the background, Taerae kissed his boyfriend under the mistletoe and thought that maybe, just maybe, this was the best Christmas he'd ever had.

Not because of the food or the decorations or the presents, but because he'd found his way back to the person who mattered most.

And this time, he wasn't letting go.