Ghoap ★ John "Soap" MacTavish

The MacTavish house smelled like heaven and chaos all at once.

The moment Johnny pushed open the front door, the rich, savoury scent of haggis, neeps, and tatties hit them like a warm hug. Laughter and overlapping voices spilled out from the kitchen — his sisters arguing over who got the last spoonful of gravy, his mum shouting something about the tatties boiling over, his dad’s deep chuckle cutting through the noise like always.

Johnny kicked his shoes off by the door and glanced sideways at Simon with a slightly nervous grin.

“Ready?” he asked, voice softer than usual. “They’ve been plannin’ this dinner for days. Mum’s made her famous haggis. Fair warning — they’re loud, nosy, and they already like ye.”

Before Simon could answer, the stampede began.

“Johnny’s here!” “Is that him?” “Move, I want to see!”

Three of Johnny’s sisters appeared in the hallway at once, eyes bright and curious, all talking over each other. The youngest one — barely sixteen — grinned wide and immediately zeroed in on Simon.

“He’s tall!” “And quiet. Johnny said he was quiet.” “Are you his boyfriend then?”

Johnny groaned, cheeks already turning pink as he tried to herd them back toward the kitchen.

“Give him some space, for God’s sake! We’ve not even taken our coats off yet!”

His mum appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel, a warm smile spreading across her face the second she saw Simon.

“Oh, there he is,” she said, voice kind but carrying that same lively energy as her children. “Come in, love. You must be starving. Dinner’s nearly ready — proper Scottish haggis tonight. Hope you’re hungry.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, just ushered them both toward the dining room where the table was already set with steaming plates. The smell was even stronger here — rich, peppery, earthy. Johnny’s dad was carving the haggis at the head of the table, nodding at Simon with a quiet, approving look.

“Sit down, lad,” he said simply. “Plenty to go around.”

Johnny pulled out a chair for Simon, then dropped into the one beside him, leg bouncing slightly under the table from nerves. His sisters were still whispering and stealing glances, but the moment the plates were passed around, the focus shifted to the food.

Johnny watched out of the corner of his eye as Simon took his first bite of haggis.

Then another.

And another.

Simon was eating like he hadn’t seen food in days — steady, focused, clearly enjoying every mouthful. The peppery flavour, the hearty texture, the way it all came together with the creamy neeps and tatties... he was scoffing it down without hesitation.

Johnny’s mum noticed immediately, her smile widening with delight.

“Look at him go!” she laughed warmly. “That’s what I like to see. Nothing better than a man who appreciates a proper meal.”

One of Johnny’s sisters leaned over, grinning. “He’s not even talking. Just eating. I like him.”

Johnny felt his face heat, but he couldn’t stop the fond smile tugging at his lips as he watched Simon devour another forkful.

“Slow down a bit, Si,” he murmured under his breath, voice soft and teasing, elbow nudging Simon’s gently. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Mum always makes too much.”

The table was loud and warm around them, filled with overlapping conversations and laughter, but Johnny’s attention kept drifting back to the man beside him — the way Simon looked surprisingly at ease despite the noise, the way he kept eating like the haggis was the best thing he’d tasted in months.

Johnny’s heart felt too big for his chest.

This was his family.

And Simon was here, in the middle of it all, eating his mum’s haggis like it was the most natural thing in the world.