Work Text:
It's Christmas Eve.
Who works on Christmas Eve?
Jongdae Kim.
He is, because he's a doctor, he wants to heal people, save lives and all that jazz.
His boss told him it would be easy peasy lemon squeezy. Nobody likes to go to the hospital on the holidays, people spend their time with their families and friends.
The day before Christmas, at the hospital, passes by unimpressive, bland. Nonetheless, a good portion of patients aren't planning to go, they come because something really bad happened.
At least and contrary to the usual, the hospital isn't its usual dispiriting pristine white. Dull, boring. So fucking boring, Jesus.
A group of volunteers made sure every wall had the right amount of accent or decoration. The patients like it, the staff breathes a bit less stressed and work goes easier and faster.
Now, Jongdae arrived at the hospital's library before sunrise and the MICU floor around an hour later. After midday he was done with all of his regular patients. All of them doing well, their treatment works, they follow the instructions he gives, their loved ones are supportive and caring, Jongdae couldn't be more content with their advances and his work.
His rounds for the day would be over, however he's sprinting three floors up to the Pediatrics floor to cover for a colleague and, as he reads the patient's chart, the corners of his mouth quirk up. Dr. Martel has been treating this patient for three years now, and the eight years old boy suffered an immense number of allergies; today is his last day of treatment. He was admitted to the hospital months ago so they could work with a wide team of specialists, including nutritionists, psychologists, allergologists and more every day, so he could go out and live a normal life after being trapped in a bubble for almost a decade.
"Hey, Kim!" He hears one of his teammates shout, somewhere above his head, pushing him out of his thoughts. "Your boyfriend called, answer your phone."
Damn. Jongdae left his contacts behind at home and his glasses are –maybe?– in one of his many pockets, so he scans down the stairs, narrowing his eyes until he finds a human-looking blur. When he finds it, he pulls a thumbs up, nods at her direction and chimes: "Thanks!"
In that moment, a faint buzz in the pocket of the salmon coat he's wearing under his lab coat, gets his attention.
"You called the hospital?” He speaks first and lifts an eyebrow as soon as the phone touches his ear. "What's up, love?"
Before any word, Jongdae hears the most delightful giggle. "You weren't answering!” Yixing bubbles happily. "Just left my parents' house, what shall I get for dinner?" Ah. Christmas dinner. They will get thirty minutes of Christmas Eve together .
He reduces the speed of his steps to gain a few more seconds to talk.
"Chicken nuggets, please," Jongdae pipes, his voice echoing the empty stairwell around him.
Sadly, he walked too fast before the call so he gets to Pediatrics as Yixing remains silent. Jongdae enters the big Only Staff door that connects the private stairs to that floor's common area and finds, next to the entrance, a plastic box on top of a stool, half full of Santa Claus and elf hats. Jongdae glances sideways: everybody is wearing one.
"You there?” He pouts as he grabs a green elf hat and places it on his head.
"Hold on... you weren't kidding?" Yixing gasps, terrified.
He must look lovely, Jongdae wants to see him look lovely. And kiss his face, all of his face because Jongdae loves Yixing's face.
"No, honey. Bring nuggets, I'll have my break at nine. Love you." He smacks a kiss in the air, hoping Yixing gets to hear him. He hates kissy sounds.
After that, Jongdae ends the call and shoves his phone back in the warm coat, not the lab coat. He checks the file in his hands once more, adjusts the hat, then walks into the room.
☆
"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Jongdae sings out to the batch of med students getting ready to leave.
They answer all at once differently, some of them call him "doc", others call him "Dae", others call him "Jongdoc". They're rascals, but they're good kids.
"What's your hot boyfriend doing tonight?" a small girl named Rachel asks. Everyone else starts leaving one by one, not before shooting warm smiles and kind wishes to him. What can he say? He's lovable.
"He had lunch with his family and he's coming here for a bit. We're improvising dinner." Jongdae grins.
"He's coming to the hospital today? For you?" Rachel's jaw drops. "My boyfriend would never."
Jongdae rolls his eyes but his heart clenches at the thought of Yixing spending most of the night alone. Yixing Zhang is an important man, not only in his life but in the Business World . He works really hard, but working hard doesn't mean he shuns a few advantages to adjust his schedule for his boyfriend – because as a fellow physician, Jongdae's schedule is inhumane.
"Now I see why you're so whipped, besides the millions in his bank account," she jokes and pulls the strap of her bag to her shoulder.
Jongdae didn't walk in the relationship blindsided of the immense quantity of money Yixing had on his name, actually, his fortune was the reason they got together. None of them like to talk about it. Yixing was lonely, Jongdae needed money, and they matched on that website.
"Shut up." Jongdae's mouth twitches.
Rachel doesn't know, he doesn't blame her but he hates being reminded of their past situation.
"Tell him I said hi, and don't look so sad, the ones leaving now will be here for New Year's and you'll be making out with your hot rich man." She laughs. "Merry Christmas, Dae."
Jongdae beams softly and whispers an airy: "Merry Christmas, Chellie".
Seconds later, the on-call room is left empty, except for the bags and backpacks of the medical staff working tonight. Jongdae's is the pale blue one.
☆
Among the patients and co-workers entering and leaving the hospital, Jongdae gets carried away and loses track of time. After finishing with Dr. Martel's patients he decided to head to the hospital's library and compare the notes of the med students and his notes.
It's already a shame he is working tonight, he will not be taking any paperwork home.
After all, some of the students missed a few points but for the matter and as a team, they did a good job. He thinks of texting Rachel and ask her to let them know he's proud of them. And Jongdae isn't many levels above in the hierarchy but a little applause never hurt nobody.
He's in the middle of writing down his conclusion when a hand on his shoulder startles him.
"What in the world are you doing here?" Jongdae freezes on the spot when he feels a soft breath on top of his head. "Y'know what time is it?”
When he turns around, he sees Angela, one of the residents on-call.
"Did I miss a consult?” Jongdae's eyes widen. He didn't have any scheduled consult, but may–
Angela takes her phone out of her pocket and shows him the screen.
21:04
Jongdae's heart pounds in dismay. He didn't just lose four minutes of his thirty-minutes - Christmas-Eve .
"Fuck... is he here?" He jumps out of his seat, takes the books, files, charts and markers in his hands.
Thirty minus four equals twenty-six. Twenty-six minutes left. He has to hurry if he doesn't want to waste more time.
"Yeah. I got this. Go." She nabs everything of his hands and drives him towards the corridor leading to the door.
Angela is an angel. Jongdae already knew, but it's now extra-confirmed.
"Thanks, thank you, I owe you one," he mutters and strides out of the library.
Yixing must be waiting for him at the staff's cafeteria, there's where they always meet up because the on-call room is too messy for visitors to come in, even if it's way more private.
He doesn't take the elevator because despite being a machine, it will be too slow, and he's just one floor away. Thank goodness he's rushing downstairs and not the other way around.
Accelerating in the middle of the stairs because he cannot lose one more minute, Jongdae stumbles and it's a miracle he doesn't fall, but his right ankle feels a little twisted. Fuck. It'll be fine, it has to be fine.
When he makes it to the floor, he slightly hobbles across the hallway but doesn't halt at any moment. Then, after a couple of curious looks, he gets to the cafeteria.
His eyes skim the area among the familiar faces of his co-workers, until they land on the most hideous ugly sweater only one person in this wide world owns. He knows, because his neighbor knit it –for Yixing– last year, when the adorable old lady found out Jongdae had a boyfriend.
Ache forgotten and veins overflowing excitement, Jongdae skitters towards Yixing's direction, holds him by the waist and presses a small kiss on his back.
"You made it!" Yixing chuckles as he turns around. His precious dimple deepens as he beams and, Jongdae is a weak man, so despite the lack of privacy, he throws himself into his boyfriend's embrace.
"Missed you real bad," he groans against the tender skin of Yixing's neck. "Like super fucking bad."
Yixing sighs, runs the palms of his hands over Jongdae's back. He missed him, too, Jongdae can feel it. "I'm here now."
They merge in a warm tight hug. Yixing hums contently as Jongdae snuggles his nose, gently on the surface of his delightful chest, the rugged texture of Yixing's clothing contrasting his mild cologne, glazing a fraction of what being with him was like when began seriously dating. Jongdae likes reminiscing those times for the sake of making fun of his boyfriend. Here and now is not the time, though.
"Let's feast!" Jongdae's shout gets trapped in Yixing's torso before untangling their bodies.
He didn't notice before but he notices now. The awfully small and weird looking chicken nuggets are carefully set on fancy plates, he recognises them as Yixing's Gouttes d'or dinnerware. Sumptuous stuff. Shiny and gold – literally, it's gold plated over porcelain, really expensive porcelain.
"I can't believe you," Jongdae snorts and looks at Yixing as he takes one small black container from the bag and places it between their plates.
"What? It had to be somehow elegant." Yixing shrugs his shoulders and pulls a tiny Christmas tree from underneath the table.
Jongdae is sure, if his boyfriend wasn't one of the major benefactors of the hospital, the security guards would have told him to go fuck himself. But Yixing is a millionaire, he funded an arts program for the children and comes to the hospital every two weeks to hang out with them, he throws them birthday parties when the parents agree, gifts them toys and whatever they need for their treatment, tries to make their stay less crappy.
Everybody at the hospital reveres and cherishes him. Never more than Jongdae does, though.
"After you, love." Yixing beckons him to the mint colored cushioned booth, guiding him by the waist.
"Mm, love it when you're a gentleman," Jongdae moans. He doesn't intend to, but he does and earns one of Yixing's adorable giggles.
"I think it's not the time to get horny," he gasps and winks jokingly after seating on the booth facing Jongdae's.
Jongdae opens his eyes so wide they might jump out of his orbits and his mouth drops as he looks around to make sure no one pays attention to them.
"I'm not horny!" Jongdae mouths, his lips taking it very seriously, pouting all the way.
"You moaned." Yixing shrugs his shoulders. Jongdae doesn't hesitate to kick him under the table.
"Mean." This time Yixing draws his lower lip on top of the other. Damn. Yixing acting cute does make Jongdae kind of horny. "I could bring a proper Christmas Eve meal, you know?"
Jongdae knows, if he let Yixing choose their food he'd be dealing with five plates now, and his stomach can only take so much fancy stuff. Yixing doesn't know any other way, though.
"Honey," he sighs, "anything you chose would've needed at least a hundred instruments to eat ten courses. There's no time for that."
They have twenty-two minutes, to be precise. Jongdae's counting.
"How much?" Yixing asks.
"Not enough," he responds and then pouts. Again.
"Let's make it count, then."
Jongdae looks delighted as he grins and takes a better look at the food before him. Well, those nuggets do look different… but they're nuggets, so what the hell. He takes one of the tiny pieces with his fingers and digs it into his mouth, from the first chew, his taste buds implode.
"Holy fuck," he mutters to himself, "these aren't from McDonald's."
"If you thought we'd really have a McDonald's Christmas dinner I'll be reconsidering my romantic choices," Yixing glares playfully at him
"Shut up." Jongdae dips one of the nuggets in the weird looking ketchup that's probably not ketchup. Now his taste buds explode. "Did Ofelia make them?"
Yixing cracks up because Jongdae looks so pleased, confused and angry at the same time.
"Yes. She explained everything she did and what ingredients she used but–" Jongdae interrupts and rolls his eyes. "You don't remember, I know." He takes three nuggets in his mouth, swallows them quickly before continuing: "I cant believe after all these years she still has faith in you."
Yixing stops eating just to huff and cross his arms over his chest. "Hey, you keep being mean," he mumbles.
"Just the truth, babe." Damn. Those nuggets are good .
Not many minutes after, most of the food ends up in Jongdae's stomach. His crazy schedule made him the eating monster he is now, don't blame the man, blame the job.
"Have you thought of the insurance I told you about the other day?” Yixing inquiries.
Jongdae remembers Yixing talking about it, he merely nodded throughout the whole 'conversation'.
"Yeah." He lies, then takes a sip of that one soda he tells his patients not to drink. "I don't think I need it. Why would anyone kidnap me? And I can't pay for it." He concludes. That's what he thinks.
"Obviously I would pay for it." Yixing says, rolling his eyes as if stating the obvious. "And I have three reasons why someone would kidnap you."
Those words shouldn't make Jongdae feel as excited as he feels at the moment, but he lets it go. Being kidnapped is not fun, however, the reason why someone is kidnapped could be interesting.
"So enlighten me," he marvels contently.
Yixing begins, counts with his fingers as he lists his three arguments.
"One: Your boyfriend is wealthy. Two: Your boyfriend loves you. Three: Your wealthy boyfriend would do absolutely anything for you," Yixing says. "I'm your boyfriend, by the way."
As much as Jongdae wants to disagree, he knows Yixing has a point. Kidnappings aren't as common as movies make it seem but they happen and, apparently, every super-rich person has a kidnapping insurance. Yixing got his since the day he was born.
"You should drop the 'wealthy' and start saying 'millionaire'." He hopes for Yixing to drop the issue.
"My mom thinks you should get it, too. Everyone in the family has it." Yixing says. Off course, he doesn't drop it.
"Yeah but I'm not, you know, family." Jongdae frowns, sips harder and thinks of family . He's not close to his mother or his father like Yixing is, that's why he didn't hesitate to leave South Korea and reside in a very different and distant continent. He's so lost in his mind that he doesn't hear Yixing's following statement.
"If you say yes in the summ-"
"What?” Jongdae finally snaps out. He's not sure if Yixing was whispering or he was just really inattentive.
"Hm? Nothing." Yixing scratches his nose. "The sauce was so good."
The sauce. Jongdae will hold Ofelia's face and kiss his forehead, thanking her for that glorious sauce. It made his tongue dance like Shakira, relish as if it was royalty. An orgasm to the mouth.
"Yes. Ofelia is a magician," he finally says.
"She's a goddess," Yixing continues.
"The nugget goddess."
Yixing gasps. "If she hears you she'll kidnap you until you take it back."
Jongdae cups his cheeks in his palms and opens his mouth in fake shock.
"Shoot," he grumbles, "I might need that insurance after all."
Jongdae is singing –whispering– to All I Want For Christmas Is You as Yixing dissolves into –muffled– laughter and their feet play footsies under the table, they have less than five minutes left. Jongdae's break will be over soon.
Or sooner.
"Shit," Jongdae mouths.
The alert rings loud from the speakers and only stops to ask every single employee to get ready for a code orange , which means, an external disaster. Many, many injured people must be on their way.
"Gotta go, babe," Jongdae says.
The cafeteria turns into mayhem, everyone washing their hands, running out, looking for whatever instrument they brought, need and suddenly lost.
Fuck.
Where's his lab coat?
"Here," Yixing holds the garment and helps him get in it. "I'll be around. Good luck."
"Go home," Jongdae kisses him on the lips and rushes to wash his hands. There is no time for more, so he smiles softly and mouths an "I love you" from afar.
☆
Jongdae can't feel his feet. Did he own any feet before today? Hm.
"God, I'm dead." Jongdae whines to an unknown nurse –he recognised the uniform but didn't take the time to look at the face–. He lets his butt fall flat on the clumpy couch of the consulting room #103, also known as their Secret On-Call Room. Nobody uses it for work. As soon as you walk in, the lack of a heater chills you to the bone, there's a thin layer of dust everywhere, and the light bulb seems like it's about to die… but never does.
Right now it's 4:23 a.m. and there's a wave of tranquility dribbling through the hospital after more than six hours of chaos. Every nurse, every intern and physician and surgeon and caretaker is exhausted. Christmas Eve wasn't easy peasy lemon squeezy after all.
"When's your shift end?" The unknown nurse asks, and it's then that he recognises his voice. Baekhyun and Jongdae studied at the same university back in South Korea, applied for the international program at the same time, moved to Canada only a few months apart and helped each other along the way. They're good work friends, but never have time to hang out outside of the hospital.
"In five more hours," he responds. Baekhyun blows a soft whistle and reaches for the lilac fanny pack he carries around all the time, he pulls out a bar of chocolate, rips it open and cracks it in halves.
"The little redhead at ER said to share it because it's Christmas." Baekhyun hands one half to Jongdae and takes a small bite of the one remaining in his hand.
Nurses get longer and tougher schedules, yet they're always looking out for everybody else.
"She was cute," Jongdae says. The little redhead. She only suffered a few scratches and left early with her parents, apparently she gave out chocolate bars and other candies to the staff but Jongdae was in the bathroom when the repartition happened. "Thank you."
"Yeah," Baekhyun says, almost whispers due to the weariness. "S'pretty calm, why not go see your man?"
Jongdae rolls his eyes and half smiles before talking. "His apartment is like an hour away."
"You don't have to go," Baekhyun snorts, "he's been here all night."
Jongdae hears him, and finds he says it like it's the most sane action and thought.
It is not.
It's fucking bananas!
"What?" Jongdae asks. "Where?" No way Yixing chose to sleep God knows where in the hospital instead of his very comfortable Hästens in Mayfair, like, very-super comfortable. It's Jongdae's Deficient Spine Certified.
"Saw him taking a nap at our room like," Baekhyun wavers his hands in the air and pouts, thinking, "a little more than an hour ago, maybe?"
Jongdae doesn't know if he has to be upset because Yixing is not the type of man who sleeps on old single bunk beds; or thrilled because he's seeing him in about five minutes.
He will be both.
"Oh my God." Jongdae grunts and pinches the bridge of his nose. "He's not in his right mind."
Baekhyun chuckles and pushes him out of the sofa with more strength than necessary. Should Jongdae ask for his workout routine? "I'll beep you if needed, keep your pager close," he says before sipping his, most likely, cold coffee.
"Okay. Thanks." Jongdae smiles and leaves the room, the sudden increase of temperature rising his fuss levels.
He thinks of asking someone if they have seen Yixing around but chooses not to because he doesn't need more comments about how great his boyfriend is and how lucky he is to have him and how Yixing could do better –no offense, of course, they say–. He knows. Jongdae knows too well, and everybody loves reminding him.
Since Baekhyun told him he saw him in the on-call room, there's where he goes first. Yixing is not there, but one of his co-workers isn't asleep yet and tells him Yixing said something about food. He's about to head to the cafeteria when Yixing walks in again with a couple of cereal bars in his hands.
"Morning, love." Yixing whispers, trying to remain as quiet as possible.
"Why didn't you leave?" Jongdae asks the same way.
It only takes them a second to realize they should take the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere where exhausted doctors aren't at risk of being woken up.
As Yixing closes the door behind him, he says: "Good morning to you too, babe. How did you sleep? The sofa is not very comfy but great!" Jongdae gives him a dirty look.
"I'm serious, Xing." And he looks serious, so Yixing gives up and takes a deep breath.
"I sang some carols with the kids, they were asking about the sirens and noise outside, they needed a distraction. Then decided I'd see you sooner if I stayed, it's not a big deal," he explains and folds his arms on top of his chest.
"It's not, but you didn't have to," Jongdae huffs. He can't stay mad at Yixing, after all, he sang carols with the kids. How fucking cute is that?
"Well, whatever, I did and I'm seeing your gorgeous face right now, sooner than if I had left, that's enough for me."
Jongdae rolls his eyes and pretends to look for something in his lab coat to hide the superb blush on his cheeks. "You gotta stop drinking corny juice," he says.
"It's not corny juice, it's love juice." They snort at the same time, which makes them snort once more.
"That's so corny, shut up." Jongdae whines and scrunches his face in fake disgust.
Before getting to speak again, he sees an idea lighting up Yixing's face.
"If you insist." Is what he says, and then pushes Jongdae against the wall and seals their lips together.
They're hungry for each other and it shows, because second after second the entanglement of their mouths becomes dirtier, messier.
And… they have to get out of sight if they don't want to get scolded.
"This is too crowded," Jongdae pants. He really loves Yixing and he wants to keep kissing him but he is also aware of his surroundings.
"Fine, let's get you some breakfast." Yixing says and holds his hand, from there to the cafeteria and then until Jongdae's pager beeps and he has to get back to work.
At 8:16 Jongdae's good to go. He reviewed with the nurses the last records of his regulars and found only one inconsistency for one of them, so he ordered a couple of tests and asked them delivered to his email.
After their cereal bars and apples breakfast at four in the morning, Yixing drove to his place for a change of clothes and now came back to pick him up.
Honestly, Jongdae is so sleepy he thinks he'd go with anyone who offered him a peaceful place to sleep.
"At yours?" Yixing gets in the car, closes the door and turns the heater on immediately. When he shifts on his seat to adjust the seat belt, he notices Jongdae's pink glowing nose and cheeks.
"Your bed is comfier," he says, pouts and makes puppy eyes. As if Yixing wouldn't move mountains for his every wish.
Yixing can't help but bop the tip of his nose, and when Jongdae huffs he giggles: "Alright. After you get some rest I'll show you your new closet-heater."
Yixing starts the engine and Jongdae's eyebrows knit. His apartment is really cold and his clothes tend to be freezing every morning he slips in them. He remembers telling Yixing about it that one time they went for coffee after two very long weeks of not seeing each other, and Yixing told him about the closet-heaters his company was about to launch.
"Didn't you say the humidity would damage my little wood closet?" He cocks his head in confusion.
"Yeah, not that closet. I'll show you your new closet in my room, too."
Quick fact: Jongdae doesn't have a closet in Yixing's room, he has a couple of drawers inside of Yixing's closet. But Jongdae's? Nope… Yixing did say, new closet, though.
"My what in where?" He leans forward. Maybe he misunderstood.
"Ah! Also, your own studio for when you immerse yourself in that medical bubble of yours. It has a library too."
Why the fuck is Yixing speaking nonsense? Studio? What studio? Jongdae's never had a studio. He has dreamed about it more than several times but a studio? Now?
"Xing-"
"And remember you said it'd be super nice if I had a bigger jacuzzi?" This time Yixing's voice quavers.
"What is going on?!" Jongdae shouts. His hands are shaking, his mind spins and he's one second away from shouting again.
Yixing looks at him, then at the road, then back at him and then back at the road. Jongdae's about speak when Yixing says, very playful and whispery: "I don't wanna spoil anything but I might ask you to move in with me so I made a few changes here and there."
BOOM! Bomb dropped. Start evacuating. This is not a drill – holy shit, it's not a drill!
"Oh my God." Jongdae's expression reads exquisitely numb. Is he still there? Nah. Dead. Jongdae's dead.
Yixing is about to fucking die too.
"Shit. Yifan told me this was a bad idea, I should have consulted you first. I just thought since you- maybe because you spend so much time at my-"
"Shut up." Jongdae orders. He's trying to be serious but he's smirking.
At some point in the conversation Yixing must have stopped the car because when Jongdae looks around they're not moving, the snow and cold are dense but that only serves the purpose of transforming regular people into kind, more loving people. They're wandering, chirping, living their happiness. Their own fairytale.
His fairytale sits right next to him, and he looks terrified.
"Love," Jongdae croons. Yixing is a very soft man, any louder sound might harm him. "This is the best fucking Christmas ever.”
It's great they're stationed, otherwise Jongdae would have caused an accident. After undoing his seatbelt, he grabs both of Yixing's cheeks and draws him in a dainty kiss. Only lips and love. A lot of love, full of love, dripping love. Each twist of his mouth represents one reason why he loves Yixing so much, so the kiss lasts longer than expected. The soft caress of their lips shows their chemistry, the respect they have for each other creeps as neat synchrony. At the back, where none of them looks, there's a flake of fear disguised as lip bites.
Are they moving too fast? Too slow?
The nature of their relationship, at least how it began, gifts them a sense of wrongness. Money for company, money for a little bit of love. They're way past that, of course, but it was in front of them at some point, will always be part of the map.
Their lips are swollen and their legs cramped. Jongdae's chuckle lurches it's path in his throat and he looks tipsy when in reality he's just very happy and very sleep deprived.
"Hurry! I need my fifteen hours of sleep and then my gifts!” He chimes, puts his seatbelt on again and wiggles his feet.
For that moment, no other soul in the universe is brighter than Jongdae's, and he's, oh, so sure, Yixing will keep brightening it even more, forever.