Work Text:
another christmas, another busy day at the restaurant.
jeonghan managed to keep a prominent smile on his face, despite the pain that scratched at his heart. the only weight that he wanted on him was the weight of turkey roasts on aluminium trays that he was paid to carry back and forth from the kitchen to rich, hungry customers.
“enjoy your meal, and have a lovely christmas.” he grinned once again at another family, the action seeming almost robotic now from him, as if he was on auto-pilot. he saw their genuine joy, and their laughs as their family tree was reconnected once again. it made him jealous that he was deprived of that privilege.
pushing back the thoughts that were soon to bubble in his brain, jeonghan took his empty tray and slotted it under his armpit, taking a long-lasted walk back to the kitchen to collect the next meal. these families made the sombre feelings within him arise, reminding him that he’s alone. a meal for one, a movie for one, a present for one. christmas is meant to be spent with the ones you love, but the person who has jeonghan’s heart is far far from here.
time seemed to stretch as the day began to draw to a close, the same songs ringing in his ear like church bells. he was so desperate for something to eat, because he never got a chance to sit down and take a bite of a sandwich for himself, or take a sip of coffee. it’s his christmas tradition. he opened the few cards from his family, telling him to stay optimistic in spite of the ache he constantly would feel. no amount of antibiotics could push this state of mind away from jeonghan, which would cling to him like a koala.
he walked up to the counter to count up the price for one of the last meals, and gave one of his last smiles for the day to wonwoo, another waiter who gave up his christmas for the benefit of the general public. with another two hundred thousand won gifted to the restaurant, a round of merry christmases from the abundance of children, and a small wave by the pair of employees, their final customers for the night were gone at last. a minuscule cheer left wonwoo’s lips, a giggle following shortly, but it could only tug at jeonghan’s mouth. nothing permanent.
“what have you got planned tonight, jeonghan?” wonwoo began their conversation, counting up the money into the correct amounts in the cash register.
he huffed, “nothing special, really. it doesn’t really feel like christmas, so i decided that i just wont have one.” he ignored the audible gasp that wonwoo presented him with. of course, who could just pass christmas off as a normal day? no one but yoon jeonghan. nonetheless, wonwoo understood his situation as one of his best friends, and turned his current expression back to his resting face, whilst nodding. “what about you, how’s christmas going to go down for you and junhui?”
“you remember those pets we picked up from the shelter last week? mingyu the cocker spaniel and minghao the tabby?” jeonghan positively responded to wonwoo’s question, “well, we’re going to allow them to rip open the presents, or else they’re going to be in a bad mood all night. then, we’ll have something to eat, and then we’re going to snuggle and watch christmas movies if the snow is too much for the animals’ paws.” pure excitement seeped from wonwoo’s pores, like he was going to burst at the seams. his nose crinkled up like scrunched wrapping paper when he grinned, his moves rushed now that he was evoked of his plans later on in the day.
the only thing jeonghan was looking forward to was the walk home in the snow, and the ramen that he would mix with the leftover turkey he had stolen from the kitchen.
it’s nothing special, but then neither was this christmas. it was just another day.
the minute the clock struck ten o clock, wonwoo was gone with the wind, already in his blue ford focus, ready to head home to his family. jeonghan lingered in the restaurant for a couple more minutes, taking in the euphoria of the holiday season once more, before grabbing his parka jacket from the locker, and wandering out of the restaurant and locking the door behind him with the trusted silver key. another christmas spent at that building - the sixth, to be exact.
the decorations were too bright for his state of mind, too happy. they illuminated too much colour for his mind to comprehend, jeonghan preferring it to be black and white. the frozen liquid melted beneath his being, despite not being hot at all. it must be a cold warmth, where the stress of loneliness caused his blood to rush enough to keep his body temperatures at a reasonable level. he remembered when he used to make snowmen with the other man, two reproducing to create their own little family. he remembered sledging down the gnarled hills, the other man’s arms knitted around his waist like a ribbon, as they sat on the crafted birch wood and used the force of gravity to push them down the hill that held memories from every season.
luckily he didn’t have to walk past that hill today.
to reach his house, jeonghan was forced to stroll through the town centre. all the shops were pitch black inside, closed for christmas. the owners were probably huddled around the fire, roasting marshmallows or sipping hot chocolate, listening to mariah carey whilst the children play with their newly unboxed goodies. the items were still there, however. jewellery that sparkled in jeonghan’s eyes, cupcakes that were dressed better than jeonghan on a good day, and tuxedos that jeonghan could only dream of wearing. he reminisced in the moments where after a long-awaited coffee date, he and the other man would amble down the avenue. jeonghan would always gawk at the magnificent ornaments that would surround the gifts in the frosted shop windows, and then loll his eyes back when he glanced upon the price. but the other man never seemed to mind, for it was christmas. who could say no to the one they hold closest at christmas?
leisurely, he walked up to his household, which looked so isolated compared to the wildly decorated with blow-up santa and flashing reindeers. the thin soles of his converse sneakers left him feeling every curve of the stone pathway, the memories of bare-footed running to the mailbox with the other man glued to his body rushing back to him quicker than a dog to his owner. jeonghan was like a lost dog now, without his dearest.
seungcheol was his name. it sounded so sweet on his tongue, tasting better than candy canes or gingerbread. albeit, nothing could taste better than his kisses. that was what jeonghan wanted for christmas, but alas, he cannot receive it. seungcheol left on a secretive work trip six years ago, and was reported missing in action. his status hasn’t changed since. it was no use.
shivering, jeonghan thought about the turkey ramen he is soon to digest instead of the other situation that was eating away at him. he wanted seungcheol’s ramen, and, despite them cracking under the harsh winter breeze, his fragile china lips smacked together in desperation. when he would be fed the noodles on the second-hand leather couch would be his favourite memory that he aches to recreate. he lacked the main character in that situation.
fumbling for the correct key, jeonghan cursed at his frustrated brain. what he needed now after a day in the hell hole he would label his workplace was a bubble path, filled until overflowing with the soapy suds. he and seungcheol used to share bubble baths before he was gone, giving each other banana scented beards that would dissolve in the oxygen, and absorb the heat from the water and one another’s touching bodies. they were so comfortable with one another’s presence, for they were so deeply in love. jeonghan dreadfully wanted to pop the question to seungcheol, with a white gold ring that was encrusted with only the best diamonds, and had their names written to bond them together as a whole. but he was gone, gone from jeonghan’s hold.
the heat from the boiler hit jeonghan like a bullet. home, at last. his shoes flew across the hallway, his jacket slouching over the banister. all that jeonghan really wanted to do at this moment in time was eat and sleep. now that he had no one to love at christmas, and no one to kiss under the mistletoe, and no one to surprise with a mountain of gifts to climb and conquer, christmas was as pointless as a pencil without graphite, a pie without the mincemeat, a song without the melody. it was absolutely ridiculous to try and attempt to anything christmas related, because any effort would bring him straight back to the idea of seungcheol.
christmas isn’t the time for tears, according to the songs that would crackle on the radio at work.
withal, in front of him, as he dragged his body into the living room, was a larger-than-life box, concealed neatly in snow wrapping paper, the scattered, holographic snowflakes showing how the colour got to it so flawlessly. it was odd, for he didn’t ask for anything this year, nor has he asked for anything for christmas ever since he was a young boy still living in his family abode. so to say that jeonghan was perplexed by this gift would one hundred per cent be an understatement. taking a step closer, jeonghan gaped at the box and it’s perfection, wondering who managed to sneak into his house and place this enormous present that he didn’t need into his lounge. maybe his parents? but why would they get him something so large like this?
wait, did they get him a stripper?
no, it couldn’t be. they said that they weren’t going ridiculous this year.
maybe he should check the tag?
to jeonghan,
all i want for christmas is...?
from santa ;D
jeonghan knew what he truly craved for christmas, but it wasn’t possible. not from the reports sent out, and the words spread about the community. surely, when he takes the lid off of the box, it’s going to be some moronic gift that he will never use, or end up recycling next year in order for someone else’s smile to light up like a christmas tree, just when jeonghan’s had faded into practically nothingness. surely, it wasn’t what he had wished upon a star countlessly for.
but after sliding off the cardboard lid, and revealing a gummy grin, yoon jeonghan stood corrected.
“you.” those soft and warm vocals - which had the ability to melt jeonghan into a puddle of love and affection - spoke to him for the first time in six years.
he couldn’t help but let out all of his emotions in one go, his knees buckling so that he fell into his arms. those icicles that had formed over the years in their eyes had melted in their romantic warmth, pulling each other so close together that not even the smallest of snowflakes could sliver in between the pair. jeonghan tried to steady his heart, but it was racing quicker than their sledge on the hill, the rush of adrenaline from the excitement of reuniting resembling the acceleration of the sleigh creating friction against the snow. he thought seungcheol was dead, gone, deceased, so the feeling of having him within a hug again after so long apart felt so damn splendid.
seungcheol took ahold of jeonghan’s chilled cheek, the younger seeing the fairy lights - wait no, the whole christmas tree - in the latter’s soothing eyes, and leaned closer and closer until their lips connected like a lock and key. this moment was the star on top of the pine tree. he tasted exactly as jeonghan had remembered, with no need for that peppermint nonsense, or that sugar cookie rubbish; for the failed spritz of seungcheol’s cologne that had fluttered onto his face rather than neck, and the tang from the bubblegum he would aggressively chew on when anxiety used to be a wrecking ball to his health, it made jeonghan fall in love with seungcheol all over again.
he made jeonghan feel as if he was sixteen every time they kissed.
and each time they kissed, no matter how far about the encounters may be, it felt like their first.
“this mistletoe headband of mine was convenient,” he giggled once they parted, although they both itched for more. “you kissed me straight back, and even deeper than i imagined.”
“it’s because i missed you, cheollie.” jeonghan sniffled a response, “i’m just making sure that i make up for all the kisses we lost.”
“we’ve got plenty of time for that,” seungcheol then pulled out a black box, an ugly gasp escaping from within jeonghan which made seungcheol laugh (jeonghan following in suit of course). “because i’m staying now. for good.”
seungcheol already knew the answer to his question, he could see it glistening in jeonghan’s glossy, maroon eyes. so the ring slipped on the finger, and the embrace shared wasn’t broken for the rest of that christmas night. despite the clouded sky, they had stars in their eyes when they was around one another. it was bliss.
‘santa listened, because he brought my baby back home to me.’