The air, once thick with the echoes of their painful confessions, grew still. Taekyun's tear-filled eyes searched Rinwoo's, seeing not the anger or the pity he feared, but a profound, weary understanding that mirrored his own shattered soul.
Slowly, giving Rinwoo every chance to pull away, Taekyun raised a trembling hand to cradle his jaw. His thumb gently brushed away the lingering dampness on Rinwoo's cheek.
"I have wanted to do this," Taekyun whispered, his voice a raw, broken thing, "since the moment I first saw you. Truly saw you."
And then he leaned in, closing the infinitesimal space between them.
It wasn't a kiss of passion or conquest. It was a question. A plea. A sealing of a vow.
His lips were soft against Rinwoo's, hesitant at first, a ghost of a touch. It was a kiss of apology for every cold word, for every ignored birthday, for every lonely night. It was a kiss of gratitude for forgiveness he knew he didn't deserve. It was a kiss filled with all the love he had never known how to express, pouring out of him in this one, fragile connection.
Rinwoo froze for a heartbeat, the shock of the contact reverberating through his entire being. This was the first time. In all their years of a hollow marriage, through the arranged ceremonies and public appearances, they had never once kissed. Not like this. Not with feeling.
And then, something in him melted. A final, icy barrier deep within his heart thawed under the devastating tenderness of that kiss. A small, wounded sound escaped him, and he leaned into it, his own lips moving in a slow, hesitant response.
Feeling the surrender, Taekyun's arms tightened around him. He shifted, gently guiding Rinwoo to settle across his lap, holding him close as if he were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. The kiss deepened, no longer a question but a silent, heartbreaking answer. It was a conversation of all the words they'd never said, all the love that had been trapped behind walls of duty, pride, and pain.
They kissed in the dark, surrounded by the ghostly evidence of Taekyun's lonely vigil, two broken halves finally, painfully, fitting back together. It was not a kiss of a new beginning, but the long-overdue consummation of a love that had always existed, buried under layers of betrayal and regret. It was their first, real kiss. And it tasted entirely of salt tears and a second chance they never thought they'd get.
The world had shrunk to the space between their lips, a universe of forgiveness and longing contained in a single, searing kiss. When they finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, their foreheads rested together.
"I promise you," Taekyun whispered, his voice ragged with emotion, "I will spend the rest of my life making you happy. No more shadows. Just us."
"I'll hold you to that," Rinwoo breathed, his own heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic, joyful rhythm.
But as he spoke, he shifted slightly on Taekyun's lap, trying to find a more comfortable position. The movement caused a distinct, hard pressure against him. Rinwoo stilled. Taekyun froze beneath him.
A wave of heat, sudden and overwhelming, washed over them both as they realized the truth simultaneously. It wasn't just Taekyun. Rinwoo could feel his own body responding, a mirroring ache and tension that left him lightheaded.
The air, once filled with tender promises, now crackled with a different, more primal energy.
Taekyun's eyes, dark and wide, searched Rinwoo's. He saw no hesitation, only a reflection of his own desperate want. "Rinwoo…" he whispered, a question and a plea in one.
In answer, Rinwoo's hands came up to frame his face, and he pulled him into another kiss. This one was not soft or questioning. It was deep, hungry, and full of two years of pent-up longing.
With a groan that was half relief, half pure need, Taekyun's arms tightened around him. He stood in one fluid, powerful motion, Rinwoo's legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, holding on as if he were the only anchor in a storm.
He carried Rinwoo to the bedroom, their mouths never parting, a tangle of desperate hands and shared breath. He laid him down on the soft duvet with a reverence that contrasted sharply with the raw desire in his eyes, hovering over him.
There were no more words. Rinwoo's fingers, clumsy with need, worked at the buttons of Taekyun's shirt, fumbling until the fabric parted, revealing the taut, warm skin beneath. Taekyun, in turn, showered Rinwoo's face, his neck, the hollow of his throat with open-mouthed kisses, each one a brand, a promise, an apology, and a claim, all at once.
The past, with all its pain and separation, fell away, leaving only the present, the feeling of skin on skin, and the overwhelming, undeniable truth that they were, finally, coming home.
The last of Taekyun's clothing fell away, leaving him in just his boxers. Rinwoo's gaze traveled over him, not with shyness, but with a bold, appreciative wonder that made Taekyun's breath catch. This newfound confidence was intoxicating. A low, fond chuckle escaped Taekyun. He brought Rinwoo's hand to his lips, kissing the back of it softly. "My Rinwoo," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He looked into his eyes, a sudden, serious curiosity dawning on him. "Have you... have you ever done this before?" Rinwoo's boldness faltered for a second. He shook his head, a shy, almost imperceptible movement. "No," he whispered. "I'm... I'm virgin"
The admission hit Taekyun like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs. Shock, followed by a wave of possessiveness so profound it made his head spin, washed over him. After all the pain, all the years of separation, Rinwoo had waited. For him. A fierce, protective pride swelled in his chest. He would be Rinwoo's first.
In this, at least, he could give him something untouched by their past. A slow, tender smirk touched Taekyun's lips. "Is that so?" he whispered, his voice a husky promise. His hand, which had been resting on Rinwoo's hip, slid down, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Rinwoo's pants and underwear.
In one slow, deliberate motion, he pulled them down revealing Rinwoo's hard, leaking cock. A violent blush erupted across Rinwoo's chest and face.
He was completely exposed, body and soul. Taekyun's eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at him. He reached out, his fingers wrapping gently but firmly around Rinwoo's length. Rinwoo jolted at the contact, a sharp gasp escaping him. "But it's a little hard to believe," Taekyun murmured, his thumb stroking a slow, torturous circle over the slick head, "that you've never touched yourself here." His voice was a low, intimate rumble. "That you've never made yourself feel good"
The words, combined with the expert motion of his hand, shattered Rinwoo's last shred of composure. With a mortified whimper, he threw his elbow over his eyes, hiding from Taekyun's knowing gaze. But the action only served to betray him further, as the movement arched his back, pressing his cock more firmly into Taekyun's hand.
Vivid, unbidden memories flashed behind his closed eyelids-lonely nights in his old room, his own hand moving frantically, his mind filled with forbidden, aching images of the very man who was now touching him. The memory of his own moans, whispered into a silent, empty house, echoed in his ears. Seeing his reaction, Taekyun's smirk softened into something infinitely more loving.
He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of Rinwoo's ear. "It's okay," he breathed. "You can show me. Show me how you like it." He guided Rinwoo's trembling hand away from his face and down, placing it on his own, rock-hard cock, straining against his boxers.
The feel of Taekyun's heat and hardness through the thin fabric made Rinwoo moan, a soft, helpless sound. "Touch me, Rinwoo," Taekyun pleaded, his own control fraying. "Please." And as Rinwoo's shy, curious fingers began to explore his length, Taekyun's hand resumed its own slow, sure rhythm on Rinwoo, their movements falling into a syncopated, desperate dance, a wordless language of need that was finally, after a lifetime of silence, being spoken.
Taekyun's hand moved with a practiced, yet reverent, rhythm over Rinwoo's length, his eyes locked on the beautiful, unraveling man beneath him. Rinwoo's hand flew to his own mouth, biting down on his knuckles to stifle the cries that threatened to escape. His back arched off the bed, a perfect, desperate curve, his free hand clinging to Taekyun's bicep, his nails digging in faintly.
The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, a white-hot coil tightening deep in his gut. "Taekyun... please..." he begged, the words muffled against his hand, his hips bucking into the other man's touch. "More... don't stop..." But Taekyun had no intention of stopping there. This was a worship he had denied them both for a lifetime.
He slowed his hand, leaning down to replace his touch with his mouth, pressing a soft, open kiss to the inside of Rinwoo's trembling thigh. Rinwoo jolted, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat.
Taekyun continued his slow, meticulous exploration. He kissed the delicate skin behind Rinwoo's knee, the strong curve of his calf, even the arch of his foot, each touch feather-light and devastatingly intimate. Rinwoo squirmed, a constant, low moan humming in his chest, his head thrashing side to side on the pillow. The sensation of being so thoroughly, tenderly adored was overwhelming. "Please... Taekyun..." Rinwoo pleaded, his voice cracking, his legs falling open in a silent, vulnerable invitation.
Understanding, Taekyun moved between his legs, his eyes dark with a mix of fierce desire and aching tenderness. He gently spread Rinwoo further, his gaze drinking in the sight. He brought his fingers to his own mouth, never breaking eye contact, and slicked them thoroughly with his tongue.
He pressed one finger, slow and careful, against Rinwoo's entrance. Rinwoo cried out-a sharp, guttural sound of shock and sudden pain. His body tensed, his back bowing off the bed.
Taekyun froze instantly. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice rough with concern, his body poised to pull away. "Does it hurt? We can stop." But Rinwoo, his eyes squeezed shut, shook his head, his breathing coming in ragged pants. He reached down, his hand covering Taekyun's, not to push him away, but to press him closer.
"No," Rinwoo breathed, his voice strained but certain. He opened his eyes, meeting Taekyun worried gaze with one of raw, unflinching trust. "Don't stop. Just... go slow. Please." It was all the permission Taekyun needed. He leaned down, capturing Rinwoo's lips in a deep, consuming kiss, swallowing his next gasp as he slowly, painstakingly, began to work his finger inside, his every movement a silent vow to cherish, to protect, and to love the man in his arms, now and forever.
The air in the bedroom was thick with the sounds of ragged breathing and soft, wet sounds. Taekyun's touch was both methodical and worshipful, his fingers working with a careful, relentless patience that was driving Rinwoo out of his mind. He was already a trembling, arching mess beneath Taekyun, every nerve ending alight. When Taekyun carefully, deliberately, added a third finger, the stretch was exquisite, overwhelming. A loud, broken moan was torn from Rinwoo's throat, his head thrashing back against the pillows.
Taekyun leaned down, capturing his mouth in a searing, distracting kiss, swallowing his cries. When he pulled back, his lips were swollen, his eyes dark pools of barely restrained need. "Tell me," Taekyun breathed against his lips, his voice a rough, gravelly whisper. His fingers curled, a deliberate, devastating brush against that bundle of nerves deep inside. Rinwoo's entire body jolted, a sharp, electric cry escaping him.
"Tell me if I can go harder. I need to know you're ready for me." "Yes," Rinwoo gasped, his nails digging into Taekyun's bare shoulders. "Please... just... don't stop." Permission granted, Taekyun's restraint shattered. He began to thrust his fingers in a deeper, harder rhythm, a steady, punishing pace that had Rinwoo clinging to him like a lifeline, his body flinching and bucking with every targeted brilliant stroke against his prostate.
Pleasure, sharp and almost painful in its intensity, coiled tight in his gut. "T-Taekyun... wait... it's too much," Rinwoo begged, his voice a broken sob. Tears of overstimulation welled in his eyes. "Enough... I can't..." But Taekyun knew. He knew the line between too much and not enough, and he could feel the tell-tale tension coiling in Rinwoo's body, the way his inner muscles were fluttering wildly around his fingers. He didn't stop. He curled his fingers just so, pressing relentlessly, his gaze locked on Rinwoo's face, watching him come completely undone. "Let go," Taekyun commanded, his voice low and hypnotic.
"Come for me, Rinwoo." It was the final push. With a shattered cry that was Taekyun's name, Rinwoo's world exploded into blinding white light. His back arched violently off the bed as he came, untouched, stripes of his release shooting across his own stomach and chest, his body convulsing around the fingers still buried deep inside him. It was an earth-shattering climax, wrung from him by touch alone, leaving him boneless, gasping, and utterly spent, the physical proof of his pleasure stark against his skin.
Taekyun watched, his own breath catching, in awe of the power he held and the devastating beauty of the man completely surrendering to him.
The air in the room was thick with the scent of their sweat and shared breath. Rinwoo's chest heaved, every nerve ending alight, a deep, hollow ache blooming within him that begged for fulfillment. With a shy, yet deliberate trust that made Taekyun's heart clench, Rinwoo slowly parted his legs in a silent, vulnerable invitation.
Taekyun's eyes darkened with a mix of awe and fierce protectiveness. He nodded, a slow, understanding gesture, his own body trembling with the effort of restraint. He positioned himself between Rinwoo's thighs, his gaze locked on Rinwoo's, ensuring this was what he truly wanted. Seeing only trust and a mirror of his own desperate need, he guided himself forward and slowly, so so slowly, began to push inside.
A sharp, startled gasp tore from Rinwoo's lips. This was nothing like fingers. This was an overwhelming, stretching fullness, a claiming so profound it bordered on pain. His hands flew to Taekyun's shoulders, his nails digging into the muscle as he instinctively clenched around the intrusion,
his body both resisting and welcoming. For Taekyun, the sensation was equally devastating. Rinwoo's tight, hot warmth enveloped him, a searing, perfect friction that stole the air from his lungs.
For a moment, they were both frozen, suspended in a shared, breathless shock, connected in the most most intimate way possible for the very first time. "T-Taekyun..." Rinwoo whimpered, his voice strangled. He pulled at Taekyun's shoulders, not to push him away, but to draw him closer, into a crushing hug. "Wait... just... stay like this. Please." Understanding immediately, Taekyun stilled completely, burying his face in Rinwoo's neck. He held himself there, deep inside, not moving, just letting their bodies adjust to this new, shattering intimacy.
He pressed soft, reassuring kisses against Rinwoo's skin, murmuring nonsense words of love and praise until he felt the tension slowly begin to leave Rinwoo's frame. When Rinwoo gave a small, nod against his shoulder, Taekyun began to move. It was a slow, rolling rhythm, a careful, worshipful exploration. But with each gentle thrust, Rinwoo began to unravel in a way he never expected.
Tears, silent at first, then accompanied by ragged sobs, began to stream down his temples into his hair. It wasn't from pain. It was an emotional dam breaking. It was the release of two years of loneliness, of heartbreak, of believing he was unlovable, all being washed away by the physical proof of Taekyun's love and desire. His body trembled, hiccups wracking his frame. Taekyun stilled again, his face a mask of concern. "Rinwoo? Are you okay? Should I stop?"
"No!" Rinwoo cried out, his voice thick with tears, his legs tightening around Taekyun's waist. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop." Reassured, Taekyun resumed his rhythm, his movements becoming surer, deeper, fueled by Rinwoo's desperate pleas. He kissed away the tears, whispering his love against Rinwoo's damp skin.
The overwhelming sensations, the emotional catharsis, the sheer intensity of their connection built to an unbearable peak until it shattered for them both simultaneously. A broken, shared cry echoed in the room as they came together, Taekyun's name a prayer on Rinwoo's lips. In the aftermath, Rinwoo lay trembling violently
his body flinching with the fading echoes of his climax. Taekyun, spent and overwhelmed, carefully gathered him into his arms, holding him close, pressing kisses to his hair, his brow, anywhere he could reach. "I've got you," Taekyun murmured, his own voice hoarse. "I've got you now. I'm never letting go." Curled together in the quiet darkness, the last fragments of the past finally fell away, leaving only the raw, real, and fiercely protected truth of their present.
(One Year Later)
The morning light streamed into the open-plan kitchen where Rinwoo, humming softly, flipped a pancake. A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and a chin rested on his shoulder.
"Smells better than any five-star restaurant," Taekyun murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck.
Rinwoo leaned back into the embrace with a contented sigh. "Flatterer. You just want the first one."
"Only if it's made by you," Taekyun said, his voice sincere. He reached around to gently take the spatula from Rinwoo's hand. "Your turn to sit. I'll finish."
This was their life now. A partnership built on quiet gestures and unwavering support. The man who once commanded boardrooms now found his greatest joy in making coffee for the man he loved. He was, as Eunjae had declared after a visit, "the greenest flag to ever flag."
Meanwhile at a modern, bustling office with a view of Busan's port.
"Sign here, and here," Daon said, his voice calm and assured as he guided a client through a contract. Across the table, Eunjae finished a call, his energy bright and infectious.
"Done! That's the Jeju partnership finalized," Eunjae announced, grinning. He walked over to Daon, leaning against his desk. "We did it. We're officially bigger than your father's old company ever was."
Daon looked up at him, his once-guarded eyes now full of open admiration and love. "We did," he said, taking Eunjae's hand. "Because I have you." Their success wasn't just in profit margins; it was in the shared looks over financial reports, the late-night strategy sessions that ended in laughter, and the unshakable foundation they had built together.
And then here comes....
A sleek car pulled up to the imposing gates of the Lee estate. The passenger door flew open and a fluffy, energetic Samoyed puppy named Ice Cream bounded out, barking excitedly.
"Hey! Slow down, you little menace!" Taemin laughed, climbing out after the dog. He was tanner, his smile easier, the weight of his old life gone from his shoulders.
Juwon followed, a soft smile on his face as he watched Taemin chase the puppy. "I told you he was too energetic for the flight."
"Ah, but look at him! He owns this place now," Taemin said, scooping the wriggling puppy into his arms. He looked up at the grand, silent estate. "Well, technically, I do. The lawyers finally finished transferring everything."
He pushed the main door open. The cavernous, cold hall was exactly as he remembered, yet completely different. It was just a building now. A shell.
"Bigger than I remember," Juwon commented, his voice echoing slightly.
"Empty," Taemin corrected, setting Ice Cream down to explore. The puppy's nails clicked happily on the marble. "But it doesn't have to be." He looked at Juwon, a playful glint in his eye. "We could put a bowling alley in the west wing. Or an indoor jungle gym for this one." He gestured to the puppy, who was now chasing its own tail.
Juwon chuckled, slipping his hand into Taemin's. "Or we could just sell it and buy a real home. With a garden. Somewhere with less... ghostly baggage."
Taemin squeezed his hand, his gaze sweeping over the place that had once been his gilded cage. "A garden sounds good," he said softly. "As long as it's our garden."
Ice Cream let out a joyful "woof," as if in agreement, the sound breathing new, hopeful life into the old, cursed halls. The legacy of the Lee family was no longer one of a curse, but of three brothers who had finally, against all odds, found their own ways to be free.
The grand Lee estate was a tomb of dust and forgotten memories. Taemin bounded up the grand staircase with a energy that seemed to mock the silence, Ice Cream yapping at his heels.
"Juwon-ah, hurry up! I want to see if my old racing trophies are still here!" he called, his voice echoing through the cavernous foyer.
Juwon followed more slowly, his fingers trailing along the dusty banister. He looked at the austere family portraits lining the walls—stern faces of men who seemed to have forgotten how to smile. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he murmured to himself, trying to find the beauty in the gilded cage his love had escaped.
His musings were cut short by a low, persistent growl. He looked down. Ice Cream was planted firmly in front of a heavy, dark-wood door at the end of a shadowy corridor, his fluffy hackles raised, a deep, threatening rumble in his throat.
"Ice Cream, stop that. It's just an old room," Juwon chided, walking over.
But the puppy didn't stop. He barked, sharp and alarmed, scratching at the bottom of the door.
A cold prickle of unease ran down Juwon's spine. He reached for the tarnished brass handle. "Taemin? There's a locked room down here," he called out, his voice slightly strained.
He turned the handle. The door wasn't locked; it swung inward with a groan that spoke of disuse.
The smell hit him first. It was a thick, sweet, and putrid odor that made his stomach lurch. He hurriedly covered his nose and mouth with his hand, his eyes watering. The room was pitch black, but a sliver of light from a high, grimy window cut through the gloom, illuminating a nightmare.
In the center of the room, lying on a bare, stained mattress, was a skeletal form. The remains were swarmed with strange, dark insects that scuttled over the bones, their clicking sounds faintly audible. The clothes had mostly rotted away, but one thing glinted dully in the thin beam of light: a heavy, distinctive gold signet ring on a skeletal finger.
Juwon's blood ran cold. He knew that ring. He had seen it a hundred times on the hand of Lee Jong-sik, the man who had terrorized his family and tried to destroy his love for Taemin.
Mr. Lee hadn't disappeared. He had come home to die. Alone.
"Juwon! Look at this ridiculous photo I found of Daon as a kid!" Taemin's cheerful voice echoed from upstairs, followed by his footsteps on the landing.
Panic seized Juwon. He couldn't let Taemin see this. He couldn't let this horrific, tragic end taint the new beginning they had just stepped into. He stumbled back, pulling the door shut with a firm, final click, cutting off the dreadful sight and the foul smell.
He turned just as Taemin rounded the corner, holding a faded photograph, his face bright and innocent.
"Juwon? What's wrong? You look pale," Taemin said, his smile fading into concern.
Juwon forced a shaky smile, his heart hammering against his ribs. He walked quickly to Taemin, taking his hand and pulling him gently but firmly away from the corridor of horrors.
"It's nothing," Juwon said, his voice a little too high. "This place is just... so dusty. I saw some insects, big ones. It's not healthy to stay here right now." He looked into Taemin's trusting eyes, his own filled with a protective urgency. "Let's leave. We'll call professional cleaners to deal with all of this. We can live in a hotel for a few days. A nice one, with room service."
Taemin, ever-trusting, ever-following his Juwon, simply nodded. "Okay. If you say so. A hotel sounds more fun anyway! Come on, Ice Cream!"
He turned, trailing behind Juwon like a happy golden retriever, completely oblivious to the dark, rotting secret his lover had just sealed away in the heart of the house he now owned. Juwon led him out into the sunlight, vowing to himself that Taemin would never, ever have to know the grim truth of his father's final resting place. Some curses, it seemed, were better left buried.
Later at evening..
The air in "Morning Light" was warm and buzzing with laughter and the clinking of soju bottles. After three long years, the scattered pieces of their lives were finally drawing back together. Rinwoo and Jihoon were laying out an array of delicious take-out boxes on the large central table Daon and Eunjae had pushed together. Eunjae was animatedly telling a story, making Daon smile one of his rare, genuine smiles, while Mingyu looked on with a proud, scheming grin.
"Alright, everyone's here! Let's get this reunion started!" Mingyu announced, raising his bottle.
Just then, the café door chimed.
"Sorry we're late! This one couldn't decide what to wear," a familiar, warm voice said.
All heads turned. Juwon stood in the doorway, a soft smile on his face. And beside him, tanner, his hair a little longer, but with the same vibrant, restless energy, was Lee Taemin.
For a moment, there was a collective, stunned silence. No one, except for a beaming Mingyu, had known they were coming.
Taemin's eyes, wide and scanning the room, instantly landed on Rinwoo, who had frozen mid-action, a container of tteokbokki in his hands.
Time seemed to stop for both of them.
Then, a choked, emotional sound escaped Taemin. Without a single word of greeting to anyone else, he launched himself across the café.
"HYUNG!"
He crashed into Rinwoo, his arms wrapping around him in a vice-like grip, nearly knocking them both over. The container of tteokbokki fell to the floor, forgotten.
Rinwoo staggered back a step, his own arms coming up instinctively to hold the younger man. He could feel Taemin trembling, his face buried hard in his shoulder.
"Taemin-ah," Rinwoo breathed, his own eyes stinging.
"I missed you," Taemin sobbed, his voice muffled and thick with tears. He clung to Rinwoo as if he were a lifeline. "I missed you so much, Hyung. You have no idea."
To everyone else in the room, Rinwoo was a friend, a brother-in-law, a baker. But to Taemin, he was everything. He was the only warmth in the cold Lee estate, the one who bandaged his scraped knees, who listened to his teenage woes, who snuck him extra dessert when his father was being particularly harsh. Rinwoo had been his sanctuary.
Rinwoo held him tighter, his hand coming up to cradle the back of Taemin's head. "I know, Taemin-ah. I know. I missed you too. I was so worried about you."
They stood there in the middle of the café, locked in a embrace that transcended the three years of separation. The rest of the group watched in respectful, emotional silence. Juwon's eyes were soft with understanding, and Mingyu wiped a surreptitious tear from his own eye.
Finally, Taemin pulled back just enough to look at Rinwoo, his face a mess of tears and a brilliant, shaky smile. "You look good, Hyung. You look... happy."
Rinwoo smiled back, wiping a tear from Taemin's cheek with his thumb. "I am. And so do you."
In that moment, with the spicy scent of spilled tteokbokki in the air and the sound of their friends' quiet joy around them, another broken thread was woven back into the tapestry of their lives. The family, chosen and found, was finally, completely, whole.
The initial emotional tidal wave of Taemin's arrival settled into a warm, buzzing hum of conversation. Taemin, still clinging to Rinwoo's arm as if afraid he'd vanish, turned his bright, curious gaze to the man standing quietly beside his brother.
"Hyung," Taemin said, pulling Rinwoo slightly towards Taekyun. "This is Park Juwon." He puffed his chest out with pride. "My Juwon."
Juwon offered a slight, formal bow, a nervous habit from his upbringing. "It's an honor to finally meet you both. Taemin has told me so much about you." His eyes held a deep respect as he looked at Rinwoo. "He speaks of you like you hung the moon."
Rinwoo's smile was gentle and genuine. "He tends to exaggerate. But it's lovely to finally meet the man who makes him so happy. Welcome, Juwon-ssi."
Taekyun, who had been observing quietly, stepped forward. He extended his hand, not with the cold formality of a business deal, but with an open warmth that made Taemin's eyes widen. "Lee Taekyun. Thank you for taking care of my little brother."
Juwon, surprised by the directness and lack of hostility, shook his hand firmly. "The honor is mine. He takes care of me, more often than not."
As they settled around the table, Taemin felt like he was in a dream. He watched, mesmerized, as Daon leaned over to whisper something in Eunjae's ear, making him laugh and swat his arm playfully. He saw Taekyun effortlessly take over pouring drinks for everyone, his posture relaxed, his smile easy as he listened to Juwon talk about their life in Thailand.
"This is... weird," Taemin blurted out, then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.
Daon raised an eyebrow. "What's weird?"
"This!" Taemin gestured around the table. "You! All of you! Talking. Laughing. Together! I used to dream about this when I was a kid. I'd imagine us just... like this. But you were both always so..." He mimed Taekyun's old icy glare and Daon's stoic, distant expression.
Taekyun had the decency to look chastised. "We were fools," he said simply, refilling Taemin's glass. "And we're sorry."
Daon nodded in agreement, a softness in his eyes Taemin had rarely seen. "We're making up for lost time."
Across the table, Juwon found himself easily drawn into a conversation with Rinwoo and Eunjae.
"Your café is wonderful, Rinwoo-ssi," Juwon said. "The atmosphere is so peaceful."
"Thank you," Rinwoo replied. "It's my pride and joy. Eunjae here is my most loyal, and most critical, customer."
"Only because I care!" Eunjae protested with a laugh. "So, Juwon-ssi, tell us everything! What's Thailand really like? Is the street food as amazing as they say?"
Meanwhile, at the far end of the table, Mingyu sidled up to Jihoon, who was happily munching on fried chicken.
"So," Mingyu began, flashing a charming grin. "You're the famous Jihoon. The guardian of the café."
Jihoon looked him up and down, unimpressed. "And you're the famous Mingyu. The one who crashes weddings on motorcycles."
Mingyu's grin widened. "Guilty as charged. It's a talent." He leaned in closer. "You know, I have a thing for people with... spirit."
Jihoon took a slow sip of his soju. "Is that so? What kind of car do you drive?"
Mingyu blinked, thrown off by the non-sequitur. "Uh. A Ferrari. A 488 Spider. Why?"
The effect was instantaneous. Jihoon's eyes widened, his cool facade melting into pure, unadulterated awe. The soju glass hovered halfway to his lips. "A... a Ferrari?" he breathed. "A 488 Spider? The red one?"
Mingyu, recovering his composure, smirked. "The very one."
Jihoon leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. "Tell me everything. Does it purr? Does it roar? Can I... can I sit in it?"
Mingyu laughed, delighted. "Maybe. If you're nice."
The room was a symphony of happy chaos—brothers reconnecting, lovers sharing stories, and new friendships sparking. For the first time in their lives, the Lee family wasn't a battlefield or a burden. It was just a family, loud, messy, and full of love, finally sharing a meal together.