After the arrival of Mark and Taeyong's parents, everyone decides to spend the rest of their Sunday indoors. The Lee parents use the time talking enthusiastically to each of the boys, especially eager to hear about what Mark has been up to since he's the only one of their children that doesn't contact them regularly.
They also spend time getting to know Jeno and Lucas. They've heard about Lucas over several phone calls with Taeyong, but it was the first time they met him in person. Learning that Mark was making friends–despite Lucas forcing his friendship onto Mark initially and him not liking Jeno at first–they felt relieved that he was socializing with people other than Taeyong, Jaehyun, and Yuta.
The day passes in the blink of an eye and before they know it, the table is being set for dinner. The three youngest set the table while Taeyong helps his mother and Yuta prepare the food. Really, it's just Taeyong and Mrs. Lee preparing the food while Yuta hovers over her shoulder, sampling anything he can and reciting middle school pick-up lines.
It doesn't matter to him that Taeyong keeps rolling his eyes at him and saying, "Dude, that's my mom."
They're all aware that he's not being at all serious. Yuta's 'crush' on Mark and Taeyong's mother is a long running joke from when the oldest boys were little. It started out as an infatuated little Yuta going over to the Lee's to play with Taeyong just to see his mom, but as they got older and, in Yuta's case, more brazen, it developed into something more than a childhood crush on his best friend's mom.
After becoming so comfortable with the family, they came to accept Yuta's antics whenever he was around Mrs. Lee as nothing more than a harmless joke. They knew he would never say anything offensive and disrespectful, so they let it continue. No one was hurt and at the end of the day, they all got a laugh.
Despite being cordial to maintain the upbeat atmosphere of the home until Taeyong finally tells his parents the truth, Jaehyun still acts noticeably hesitant around his boyfriend for the rest of the day. He plays along as best as he can, but he's still upset about the entire situation to be genuine.
Jaehyun stands on stands just outside of the kitchen, leaning against the wall and peering inside with a troubled expression. He watches Taeyong and his mother laugh at something Yuta says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something.
Taeyong asked him to wait. He agreed to wait. It was as simple as that.
He watches them from his spot just outside the kitchen until Mrs. Lee announces dinner is ready. Taeyong and Yuta set out the dishes of food while Mark, Jeno, and Lucas take their seats at the table.
Jaehyun remains glowering in his spot until Taeyong beckons him over. His expression falls when he sees the smile on Taeyong's face, and before he can process that he'd moved, he's seated himself in the empty seat next to Taeyong with a small smile.
Mr. Lee joins them at the table shortly after everyone else had taken their seats. He takes the empty seat next to his wife, kissing the side of her head with a teasing smile in Yuta's direction shortly after.
Chatter fills the table instantly, mainly from the playful bickering between Yuta and Mr. Lee, and Taeyong laughing at the steady blush of embarrassment on Mark's face when their mom asks if he's been seeing anyone. Jaehyun sits quietly next to Taeyong, stuffing his face with food and using his full mouth as an excuse to get out of having to participate in a conversation.
"So Jeno," Mrs. Lee clears her throat, turning her attention from her youngest son onto Jeno. "how did you meet Mark?"
"Through a mutual friend. We didn't meet at the start of the semester like they did, so we only just became close." He answers coolly. He could tell by the wary expression on Mark's face that he was unnerved by the conversation topic, so he did his best to make his answer as vague as possible. He didn't know if he was out to his parents and didn't want to initiate what could be a very uncomfortable conversation because he said too much.
