a/n: title from the song feelings by lauv because apparently every song reminds me of miguel and sam now

please forgive me for the use of spanish in this story, i'm not a native spanish speaker and tried my best with what i could! feel free to correct me on anything!

happy holidays! :)

Miguel's mom was the one who suggested he invite Sam to dinner, about a month into their relationship the second time around. Miguel had wanted to do so a year ago when they first started dating, before everything went to shit. But after everything that's happened, doing normal couple-y things didn't really seem to cross his mind. Their 'dates' consisted mostly of driving through In-N-Out after school and making out behind the dojo before practice started.

And he was okay with that. He loved getting to spend time with her, and to him, it didn't matter in what capacity. He assumed Sam was more into the laid back dating life now as well, but when she gave him the brightest smile and started going on a tangent about what she should wear after he invited her to his place for dinner, he realized just how much this meant to her, and consequently just how much it meant to him.

Now, the four of them sat around the little dining table in his apartment, about to begin eating. Sam sat close by Miguel, with his mother across from her and his yaya to her left.

"I'm glad you could join us, Sam," Carmen told her warmly, and she smiled in return.

"Me too. Thank you so much for having me," she replied, and they all started to eat. Sam looked to the food on her plate. "This smells amazing, by the way."

"Courtesy of yaya," Miguel smiled, nodding to his grandmother, Rosa.

"She must be a whiz in the kitchen," Sam stated, and he nodded.

"The best of the best."

Rosa said something in Spanish that made Miguel chuckle, and Sam looked to him in confusion.

"She wants you to try it before saying anything," he explained. Sam felt her cheeks blush, embarrassed, then used her fork to take a bite. The three of them watched her in anticipation, and she felt her face get even more hot. But as soon as the food hit her tongue, her shoulders slumped in relief, and she nodded vigorously.

"Oh yeah," she sounded with her mouth full, then quickly used her hand to cover her mouth. "Sorry. It's really good." She gave a thumbs-up, and the three of them laughed.

"Lo sé," his yaya spoke, making a knowing gesture with her hands that sent Miguel and his mom into another fit, and Sam giggled, registering what she meant.

"So, Sam," Carmen started, "how do you feel about your guys' dojos combining?"

"I think it's going pretty well, actually," she responded, looking at Miguel. "It hasn't been an easy transition, though. Sensei Lawrence and my dad argue a lot. But it was definitely the best decision. For Miguel and I, too." He smiled, nudging her hand with his own.

"That's great!" Carmen said. "I'm glad it's working out for you both."

"It was Sam's idea," he told the table, "to bring everyone together." She blushed.

"Smart girl." Carmen smiled at her.

"Como Romeo y Julieta, no?" Rosa suggested. "Sin la muerte." Miguel chuckled, shooting Sam a glance.

"Yeah, something like that."

The rest of the dinner seemed to be going smoothly. Miguel felt his heart swell at the sight of Sam seemingly fitting right into his family, achieving the fondness of two of the most important people in his life.

Occasionally, however, Miguel would find Sam strangely tensed up, wringing her hands and bouncing her leg restlessly the way she would when he'd notice her getting particularly anxious about something. He wasn't used to seeing it quite often, especially not when he first met her a year ago. But since they'd gotten back together, her nervous habits would come up every so often. And usually he could get a sense as to what was causing it, like if something at school or at the dojo reminded her about the past, and he'd been able to calm her down.

But this was different, he noticed. Something about her mannerisms told him that she wasn't being reminded about Cobra Kai or Robby or Tory, topics that usually provoked her anxiety. No, something else had to be bothering her, because he was unfamiliar with these particular manifestations of her anxiety.

Miguel knew she wouldn't want him to make a scene in front of his family, though, so when his mom and yaya momentarily broke into their own conversation, he simply laid a hand over her thigh under the table, halting her leg movement.

"Hey," he spoke quietly, comfortingly. "You okay?" Sam looked at him in surprise, not expecting his touch, but almost instantly relieved by it. She smiled.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Now I am." Miguel pressed his lips together in a grin, squeezing her thigh once before looking back to his family as they joined back together in conversation. Throughout the rest of the night, he kept his hand there, much to Sam's relief, and whenever he'd sense her getting nervous again, he'd squeeze her thigh reassuringly, and she'd press her legs together to keep him from moving his hand back. Though they thought they were being subtle, their little arrangement under the table didn't go unnoticed by his yaya. But to Miguel's luck, she decided not to point it out to his mom, instead raising her eyebrows suggestively towards him when Carmen wasn't looking, making him squirm in his seat.

"Ella es muy bonita," Rosa said instead. "Escogiste una buena." Miguel smiled at her comment, turning to face his girlfriend.

"Lo sé," he responded, his gaze not leaving hers, and though she wasn't exactly sure what had been said, she felt her face get warm again, a blush of her own forming across her cheeks.

When dinner was finally over, Miguel led Sam to his room, albeit not without a suggestive comment from his yaya on the way that made him grateful Sam didn't understand Spanish to that degree. He let her in first before stepping in himself, carefully shutting the door behind them.

"Wow," Sam spoke as she glanced around his room, taking in all the posters and drawings on his walls. "Cool room."

Miguel scratched the back of his neck sheepishly as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "Thanks. It's just stuff from some animes I watch." Sam turned to shoot him a knowing look.

"I know you watch anime, Miguel. Half the time you cut our FaceTimes short for it." He laughed.

"I'm sorry. No more anime during FaceTime."

"It's okay. I wasn't saying you can't do what you like to do." He didn't respond after that, letting her stroll the short perimeter of his bedroom. Surprisingly enough, she'd never been inside his apartment before- let alone his bedroom- for as long as they had known each other. They usually hung out at Sam's house in her room, which by now he'd practically memorized every square inch of after routinely sneaking in and out of it.

Sam paused by his desk, a framed photo of him and his family catching her attention. She gently lifted the frame up to get a better look at it. It was a photo of Miguel as a toddler, in the arms of his mother with his yaya by her side, the three of them all wearing bright smiles.

"I know, I was a cute baby," Miguel said from his bed with a shrug. Sam rolled her eyes.

"Narcissist," she joked. "Where's this from?"

"Ecuador. Before we moved to the states. I think I was like two in that picture." She nodded, smiling at the photo.

"Your mom and grandma look beautiful here," she said, her thumb grazing the glass.

"They do," he agreed. Sam paused, looking at the photo for a moment longer. She knew Miguel's dad wasn't around, but they never really talked about his family or his past much. It was clear his father wasn't really a part of the picture, in both senses. Still, she wanted to know more about his life.

"So," she started hesitantly, "I guess your dad...?" She wasn't sure where she was going with that sentence, nervously biting her lip when he didn't respond right away. He raised his eyebrows at her, a smirk on his face.

"Isn't in the picture?" he chuckled, finishing for her. "That'd be correct."

"I can see that," she responded knowingly, " I meant-"

"I know." Miguel sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "I just never really knew him, is all. My mom never really talks about him, neither does my yaya, so I don't pry."

Sam frowned, immediately getting washed with guilt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry about it," he stopped her. "It's a valid question. There's just not much to know. He took off after I was born, and that's pretty much where the story ends." He stuffed his hands into his pockets with a sigh, and she chewed on her lower lip, setting the framed photo back down on his desk carefully. An awkward tension had quickly formed in the small room between them as neither of them spoke for a few moments. Sam shuffled between her feet uncomfortably before settling on leaning against the edge of his desk. Miguel cleared his throat.

"How'd you think the dinner went?" he changed the subject.

"Pretty good," she replied, grinning at him. "Thanks for... being supportive, back there." Miguel chuckled.

"Anytime. Let me know if you ever need more support." She shook her head, letting a beat pass before responding.

"I might just take you up on that offer." She pressed her lips together in a smile, looking at him in a way that sent a wave of heat through him, and he touched the roof of his mouth with his tongue, his lips parting slightly in a smile. The awkward tension that was previously in the room quickly dissipated into something else, and if his family wasn't outside in the living room, he would've tackled her onto his bed already.

But then he remembered he had something to ask her.

"Why were you so nervous, though?" he asked. "I didn't get it."

Her smile fell almost immediately after he'd asked the question, breaking from his gaze and looking at her feet instead. Miguel furrowed his eyebrows in concern; it wasn't like Sam to grow silent. He watched her for a moment longer from his spot on the bed before standing up, slowly making his way towards her. She must not have noticed as her gaze remained directed towards her feet, clearly engulfed in her thoughts. When he was in front of her and she still hadn't looked up, he trapped her feet with his own, pushing hers together with his on the outside. He felt a small wave of relief when she smiled, letting out a laugh through her nose.

"Talk to me." His voice was pleading and it made her finally glance up at him momentarily, as if debating whether or not to tell him what occupied her mind.

"I guess I just wanted to make a good impression," she finally admitted, glancing back down at the ground. "I want your family to like me." Miguel made a face of confusion, his lips curving upwards in a smile.

"That's why?" he said in disbelief. "Of course they like you. They practically adore you." He brought a hand up to twirl a strand of her hair in his fingers. She locked eyes with him again, sucking in a breath and leaning into his hand, and then he lost her again, her gaze moving back to the ground as she started to play with the hem of his sweatshirt.

"That's not it," he stated in realization. She shook her head. "Then what is it?"

She continued toying with the hem of his sweatshirt, and he could tell that whatever it was, it was weighing on her. He brought his hands up around her neck then, bringing her forward to kiss her forehead, and she sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"After everything that's happened," she whispered suddenly into his chest, "I don't expect them to just- be okay with us. To be okay with me."

He pulled back to look at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I was so reckless, Miguel," she told him like it was obvious. "And selfish. And maybe if I had just communicated better, or been more responsible, especially at that stupid party-"

"Hey, stop," he halted her, and she shut her eyes tightly, memories flashing behind them.

"I can't blame them, though," she continued anyway, her voice small, "if they do hate me."

"They don't. That's impossible." She scoffed.

"Not impossible," she mumbled, glancing at their feet for the nth time that night. "I hate me for it."

He watched her with a pained expression, knowing that whatever he could say wouldn't change how she felt about the way things played out. Of course he didn't blame her. But she did, and it sucked.

"I promise they don't hate you," he responded earnestly, and she rolled her eyes. "I swear. My mom was the one who wanted you over, remember? She's been wanting to meet the girl that makes me smile nonstop at dinner ever since we got back together." That made her smile faintly, and he grinned.

"My yaya said you're beautiful," he continued, his voice soft, and he pushed her hair back with the back of his hands before placing them around her neck again.

"And that I picked a good one."

Sam looked up at him then with wide eyes, a glimmer of hope behind them.

"Really?"

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"What do you think?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, one hundred percent. Yaya's never wrong." She smiled, and they let a few beats of silence pass, simply in each other's embrace.

"Sorry," she spoke in a low voice, "that kinda got dramatic." He chuckled.

"Don't be sorry." He grazed the sides of her neck and jawline with his thumbs, making her shiver slightly. The tension between them became palpable, and Miguel felt himself drawn towards her like a magnet, leaning in so much until their lips brushed as they spoke.

"Your mom..." she whispered nervously as his mouth ghosted hers, but all he could hear was his bounding pulse in his eardrums as he closed the small gap between them, kissing her slowly.

He was positive that kissing Sam was his favorite feeling in the world, even above the adrenaline he got from karate or the taste of hot churros dipped in chocolate icing. No, this was way better, by far. He loved when she curved into him, feeling her body flush against his and setting him on fire when her fingers found their way into his hair. Feeling bold, he dropped a hand from her neck to her hip, squeezing and tugging her towards him. She gasped slightly at this, her lower back hitting the edge of the desk with a thud, and her eyes widened at the noise it made.

"Do you think they-"

"Shh." He chased after her lips again, kissing her feverishly, and that seemed to have made her forget about her worries as she sighed into his mouth, tugging at his hair and pressing against his front.

Yeah, he could definitely do this forever.

Her tongue slipping into his mouth sent his brain in a spiral, and the next thing he knew, both of his hands were by her hips, tugging on the belt loops of her jeans as he started backing away from his desk, pulling her along with him. A giggle escaped her as she followed him towards his bed until he plopped down onto it, and he pulled her onto his lap, aching to feel her weight against him.

"What are we doing?" she let out quietly, kissing him between phrases. "Your family's in the other room."

"Bio homework?" She gave him a look, and he promptly pressed his mouth against hers, letting their kiss linger for a long moment. "Sorry, anatomy." She had to laugh.

"You're an idiot," she told him, and he smiled, chasing her lips as she playfully backed away. Just then, loud salsa music rang out from the living room, setting them apart, and Sam sprung from his lap excitedly while Miguel groaned.

"I love salsa music!" she exclaimed. "C'mon, you have to teach me!"

"Now?"

"Yes!" He sighed.

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed, then, mumbling, "I need a minute." She looked at him confusedly until he gestured to his pants, and she widened her eyes, laughing.

"Here." She took a pillow from his bed and tossed it to him, covering his crotch. "Think about your Sensei."

"Ew!" He threw the pillow at her only for her to dodge it while laughing boisterously. "You did not just say that."

"Is it working?"

"I'm gonna kill you." Like a switch, his expression changed, hers to a look of fear, and within a split second he'd jumped off the bed, chasing her out of his room. She shrieked playfully as she ran into his living room where Carmen and Rosa were dancing, and Rosa took Sam by her arms, guiding her away from Miguel and leading her in a dance instead. Sam was happy to join her, sticking her tongue out at Miguel when she wasn't looking to which he rolled his eyes. His mom took his arms then, and he joined her in a salsa dance as well.

"What's the occasion?" he asked his mom over the music.

"It's a Friday night!" she told him cheerfully, and then, leaning a little forward, "and we have good company." She gestured towards Sam, who was focused on learning the steps from his yaya as she was explaining the moves to her in Spanish, clearly unsuccessful. Miguel laughed.

"Here, yaya," he approached the two. "I'll show her."

"Sí, sí," she waved with her hands, handing Sam off to him. He took both of her hands, guiding her in the steps.

"You cool off yet?" she teased quietly, and he glared at her.

"Shut up." She laughed, then accidentally stepped on his foot. "Hey!"

"Sorry. Be a better teacher!"

"Okay, okay." He held her hands more firmly. "Take a step towards me when I step back." She focused on their feet, trying to stay in time.

"No, look at me," he instructed her, and she did, smiling shyly. "Now." And she did. It was choppy at first, but by the third song, she had gotten the hang of it, and the pair danced around the living room as Carmen and Rosa danced beside them, cheering them on.

"I can't believe you kept the fact that you can dance from me," she told him. He chuckled.

"It wasn't really a secret. Just never came up."

"Mhm. What else are you hiding from me, Diaz?"

"Don't check the basement." She laughed.

He didn't notice when his yaya switched the CD in the stereo, a slower Spanish song beginning to play, Eres Tú by Carla Morrison. Miguel gave her a look.

"What is this?" He narrowed his eyes at his mom and yaya.

"¿Qué? Me gusta esta canción," his yaya defended.

"Teach her bachata," Carmen encouraged, and he shook his head.

"No. This isn't even a bachata song." They pouted.

"Teach me anyway," Sam sounded beside him, and he turned to face her.

"We already did salsa. I'm tired." Now it was her turn to pout at him, and something about the way her lips jutted out like that sent his stomach in a loop.

"Please?" She gazed at him through her eyelashes, and he shook his head, before pulling her in close to show her the dance.

"I'm rusty, okay?" he warned her. "Don't take this seriously." She nodded.

"Okay, put your arm here," he guided her arm behind his neck, taking her other hand in his own and placing his other hand on her waist.

"This song is too slow," he complained, turning to his mom, but Sam shushed him.

"It's fine. Now what?"

"You basically just-" he guided her with his hand on her hip to sway with him, slowly, to the tempo of the music.

"And you move your feet a little, too-" he moved around the small area of the room, and she followed him closely, getting the gist. She snickered.

"You have such a way with words," she teased him. "Great explanations." He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. It looks like you got it." She gazed up at him fondly, remembering not to look at their feet.

"In other words, I'm a great teacher." She smiled, leaning up to press her forehead against his, and they danced like that for the rest of the song, pressed against each other, and Miguel had to admit that he was enjoying it.

Bachata was a lot more intimate than he remembered.

En mi mente marcarme tus labios, tus besos
Estás aquí otro momento
Eres tú

At some point, Miguel had forgotten about his family watching them, getting lost in the song and in Sam in a way he hadn't before. Their gazes had moved to the floor at some point, not to look at their feet but to relax to the song, especially when she moved her head from his forehead to rest against the front of his shoulder. He held her close, and she hung on by her arm wound around his neck as they swayed slowly to the music together.

He could stay like this forever, too, he realized. As long as it was with her.

"Whew!" his yaya sounded then just as the song ended, "hace calor aquí!"

Carmen laughed, nudging her. "Mama!"

Miguel laughed too, separating from Sam reluctantly, but she didn't seem to mind, her smile wide as she started towards them.

"Thank you so much, Ms. Diaz," she said sincerely, taking his mother's outstretched hands. "I had a wonderful time."

"It was wonderful to have you, Sam," she returned warmly. "You have to come by again some time." She beamed at her.

"I'd love to." She turned towards his grandmother then. "Muchas gracias." And his yaya was so happy, she gave her a hug. Miguel felt his heart warm at the sight. Sam had fit right in with them. And he had loved every second of it.

"I'll walk you out," he offered once she was done bidding them goodbye, mostly to get alone time with her before she had to leave.

"Thanks." She waved at his family once more as he opened the door, and the two stepped out, walking towards her car.

"So what'd you th-"

"I love your family," she told him happily, and he grinned. "I had such a good time."

"They loved you," he replied, wrapping his arms around her shoulders once they stood by her car. Her arms went around his waist, and she leaned her chin against his chest, looking directly up at him, their smiles mirroring each other's. The use of the l-word had sent both their hearts in a frenzy, feeling it for each other though neither of them had the guts to say those three words just yet. And that was okay, because they had time.

Neither of them were going anywhere.

"Goodnight, Miguel," she said quietly then, and he leaned down to peck her nose.

"Goodnight, Bigfoot." She scoffed, swatting his bicep as they laughed.

"You're a dick. That was my first attempt at salsa dancing."

"Needs work." She rolled her eyes, and he pecked her lips once before unraveling from her and opening her car door for her.

"Drive safe, okay?" he told her through the open window as she started the car. "Text me when you get home." He kissed her knuckles when she reached out of her window to grab his hand.

"I will." She smiled at him, and he waited until she was out of his complex before heading back in.

"Ahh!" his mom and yaya sounded from the other side as he pushed the door open, hitting their foreheads. He narrowed his eyes at them.

"Were you watching us through the peephole?" They looked at the each other before shaking their heads.

"No." He rolled his eyes jokingly before pulling them both into his arms, pecking them each on the temple.

"Te amo tanto," he told them both, and they sounded it back as he walked to his room, a cheeky grin on his face that remained for the rest of the night.