“Mhm. He’s gotten a bit cocky because of it,” Mateo chuckled, shaking his head. “Thinks he can take on any dog in the world now.” Teddy had always been rambunctious—too smart for his own good, always pushing boundaries. Like father, like son. “Oh, yeah. He still steals socks,” he added. “Just gotten better at hiding them. I honestly can’t remember the last time I wore a pair that matched.” His smile softened. “But he’s good. He’ll be happy to hear I saw you.” A beat, then, quieter and teasing, “As will our son.” The little alien plush had stayed tucked close to him the entire time he’d been away.
“So do you.” The words settled warm and unexpected in his chest, pulling a soft smile from him before he could stop it. “Thank you, Jin,” he said, genuinely. “That…means a lot.” Especially lately. Especially coming from him. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner,” Mateo added, eyes dropping briefly before finding Jin again. “For what it’s worth, I was planning to.” He just hadn’t known how to start. “Oh—um.” He hesitated, shifting the bakery box slightly in his hands. “I’m…here permanently.” The silence that followed felt heavier than he expected. Mateo swallowed, resisting the instinct to apologize for something he didn’t know how to undo. “I hope that’s okay,” he said softly.
Then—like a lifeline—his gaze flicked to Jin’s armful of snacks, and he seized the safer ground without missing a beat. “So,” he said, a small grin breaking through, “I’m actually glad you’re here. You know how I get with choices, Jin. I need your expertise.” He gestured toward the aisles. “Here’s my vision: movie night with Teddy. I’m thinking popcorn, obviously—but what else?” He paused, glancing back at Jin, casual but perhaps a little hopeful. “You could join us, if you want.” A faint, apologetic shrug. “Fair warning though—my place is still half unpacked. Lots of boxes. Kind of an eyesore.” @toptiertragedy
