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I.
Jongho would say that, on the whole, he likes Christmas. He likes how colorful lights frame streets and walkways, how people are cheerier for a few days out of the year. So it’s with these thoughts and a soft smile that he rolls out of bed, early enough that he can have first dibs on the bathroom before their schedule. It’s still about a week till Christmas, and the dorm is sprinkled in fairy lights and innocuous santa hats that his boyfriends fight over to decide who gets to wear one that day.
Boyfriends… Jongho sighs dreamily as he brushes his teeth, visions of their bright smiles flitting through his head. As with a lot of things, it began with San and Wooyoung, then Yeosang was roped in, and it snowballed until they all settled happily in one big polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t easy getting to this point; there were many late night talks and tears shed and feelings having to be worked out before they got things running this smoothly.
He spits, rinsing his mouth out before padding out to the kitchen. Maybe he can make breakfast for the early risers. He can hear the sound of the dorm rousing awake as it nears 7am, can hear several alarms going off and the groaning that comes with waking up early. His eyes stray upward, a small decoration catching his eye.
Huh. Mistletoe. That wasn’t there yesterday.
He’s about to shrug and continue his quest for food when he hears the second person to wake up come up the hall behind him. He turns, offering a small smile that the other doesn’t see, because he’s too busy looking up where Jongho’s gaze was previously. San catches his eye on the way down, stalking up to him quietly with a glint of something in his eyes.
“That’s mistletoe, baby,” he purrs, coming to sling his arms over Jongho’s shoulders. “And you’re under it.”
It occurs to him that San is waiting for something from him, perhaps permission or rejection, and he’s so zoned out on San’s perfect left eyebrow that he couldn’t possibly give it.
So San takes that as it is and places a sweet kiss on Jongho’s cheek, giving him a cute dimpled grin before continuing on his way out to the kitchen. Jongho stands there, dazed, and remembers.
Ah right. He hasn’t kissed any of them yet.
When they started out, Jongho asked his hyungs to be patient with him, as until recently, he wasn’t even sure he was into dating or romance at all. Timidly, he let his feelings develop and grow until he reached the point where he could confidently say he loves them all and… maybe a kiss wouldn’t be so bad.
He stares after San, the moment long gone but his mind made up.
II.
Hongjoong, he reasons, will be the perfect person to kiss first. He’s pretty attuned to the team’s emotions, and likes to talk about how everyone’s feeling to make sure they’re all on the same page. Generally nonthreatening, that sort of thing.
The question is how to get him under the mistletoe without six other prying eyes around, because well, they live in a dorm and everyone’s dating each other and that means nothing is sacred. Jongho is shy, dammit. He mulls it over until late the next day when he and Hongjoong are on either side of Seonghwa, helping with dinner, the rest likely playing video games or cleaning up after practice. Hongjoong has had the bright idea to go fetch his speaker from his room so that the three can jam out while they work, pressing a fleeting kiss to Seonghwa’s jaw before wiping his hands and sashaying away.
Jongho is momentarily struck by how easy it is for them to be intimate with each other like that, hands still going through the motions of chopping vegetables. Then he realizes this could be his chance.
He turns as Hongjoong makes it to the hallway, calling “Hyung, wait—” and promptly brings the knife down on his own finger “—ah shit.” Guess he ran out of cabbage.
Seonghwa is on him in a second, placing the knife aside and cradling his hand, fussing over him all the while. It’s not that bad, really, a steady stream of blood trickling out of the wound.
“Joong-ah, can you get the first aid kit?” He calls down where Hongjoong disappeared.
Jongho hears rustling, then he’s back in only a few seconds, jogging his way to them with worry evident in his tone, “yeah I got it, did something happen? Everything alright?”
Jongho turns his saddest pair of puppy eyes to him, pouting more about his kiss plan being foiled than his bleeding finger, though he doesn’t voice that thought. He can see the older melt instantly.
Hongjoong begins disinfecting and wrapping his finger. “Aish, be careful okay? You’re usually pretty good with these things so I trust you, I mean, I trust that you won’t need supervision next time but” he pats the finished bandage with a smile. “Maybe let someone else come in and finish up your part tonight, hm?”
And he’s looking at Jongho with such a tenderness in his eyes, and his finger is throbbing in time with his heartbeat that picks up the longer he stares at Hongjoong, so he relents. A kiss now wouldn’t be very romantic anyway.
III.
It’s after dinner that same night, and Jongho is done feeling sorry for himself about earlier, when someone suggests they watch one of the Marvel movies they definitely haven’t seen 20 times before. It takes little convincing from them all to pile onto the couch and floor (the losers of rock paper scissors) and Jongho finds himself pressed up against Yunho. He makes himself comfortable against the elders side, nuzzling into his shoulder as an arm drapes around his back. He feels warm and safe.
He can see Yeosang and Wooyoung cuddling on the floor, though as the movie progresses, they stop paying attention to it and more to each other. They start getting handsy, and it isn’t until a small breathy moan is heard that Jongho snaps back to himself, realizing he’d been staring this whole time. He flushes, embarrassed, and shifts against Yunho beside him. Yunho tightens his grip subconsciously and Jongho panics for a moment, because have his hands always been that big? Not that he’s thirsty or anything, haha nooo-
“Are you two gonna pay attention or not?” Hongjoong pipes up. Jongho panics for a moment because he was definitely not paying attention, until he sees the leader nudging the floor couple with his foot.
Wooyoung pretends to think. “Mm, nope!” he says, obnoxiously popping the p, and drags Yeosang away to their room.
The movie passes uneventfully after that, and by the time they’ve stayed for the post-credits scene, Yunho gently dislodges an almost-snoozing Jongho from his side.
“Thanks for being my cuddle buddy,” Yunho says, kissing the top of his head easily. His chest tightens, but he has a brand to uphold.
“Hmm, don’t get used to it,” he shoots with a sleepy smirk, watching as Yunho makes his way toward his room, but suddenly stops. He whirls back around.
“Oh silly me!” he starts, the others looking up curiously at his tone. “I seem to be under the mistletoe!” he bats his eyelashes dramatically, subtly twisting his body to give the impression of being shy. “It would be a shame if someone were to come kiss m—”
For a couple glorious seconds, Jongho envisions what it would be like to kiss big teddy bear Yunho. All sweet smiles and soft face and caring eyes.
But alas, today is not Jongho’s day, and his reflexes are slow enough that he hasn’t even registered Mingi getting up until he shouts, “BRACE FOR IMPACT, BABE!!” He barrels into Yunho, lips colliding a bit too harshly, the two stumbling farther into the hallway and laughing all the way to Yunho’s room.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters, more in exasperation than anger. He won’t let the next kiss be stolen right out from under him.
IV.
A couple days later and Wooyoung is being whiny. Moreso than usual, Jongho thinks. He’s like this when he wants attention and everyone else is too tired or cranky to give it to him, though usually he’s found someone to latch onto by now. He peeks over at Seonghwa, the only person in the group besides himself with the patience of a saint, and finds him watching something on his phone, arm outstretched and holding Wooyoung by the head to prevent him from getting any closer, which the younger tries valiantly to do.
It’s up to him, then.
“Woo hyung,” he sing songs, opening his arms in invitation. Wooyoung immediately brightens, the promise of a rare Jongho cuddle too alluring to miss. He plops himself happily in Jongho’s lap, tucking his head under the younger’s chin, sighing contentedly. Jongho doesn’t often initiate skinship, he’s just not really a touchy guy, but he doesn’t mind it when others cling to him. He’s also been told he gives amazing cuddles, and has caught his boyfriends swooning over his strong arms more than once. As if on cue, Mingi comes in and notices their position.
“Hey, why do you get Jongho cuddles?” he accuses, pouting. “You were being annoying today.”
Wooyoung doesn’t even turn to face him. “Well you’re annoying every day, so maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to cuddle you,” he teases with a smug smile, still hidden in Jongho’s chest.
Mingi makes a noise of indignation, coming over to try to pry Wooyoung from Jongho’s arms. Jongho holds fast though, arms tightening around a now-screeching Wooyoung, laughing as his hyungs fight for his attention.
“Quickly, my steed! Take us away from this peasant!” Wooyoung giggles, looping his arms around Jongho’s neck. And Jongho is nothing if not obedient.
“As you wish, princess!” he shouts, lifting Wooyoung in a bridal carry and running off toward the rooms.
He gets decently far before Wooyoung’s foot slams into the wall, making Jongho double over with laughter at Woo’s cry of mock-pain. Unfortunately, this also means he loses his balance and they go tumbling to the ground, Jongho’s arms catching some of Wooyoung’s fall.
“I can’t believe you dropped me,” Wooyoung huffs, wiggling to get more comfortable under Jongho. Another laugh bubbles up from his chest, “you’re the worst steed ever.”
“Well maybe if you paid me anything I’d be a better steed,” he snorts, then realizes his princess isn’t paying attention. He follows Wooyoung’s gaze locked on to something above him: the mistletoe.
He’s flustered for a second, but then remembers that this is what he wants. The nervousness is replaced with excitement.
“Hyung…” he trails off, leaning down slightly into Wooyoung’s space. The older’s eyes widen, but he lays on the floor patiently to let Jongho set the pace, to take without pressure.
Their lips are only an inch apart when a door bangs open near them, startling them into crashing their foreheads together instead. Wooyoung hisses, turning to berate the newcomer.
“Do you mind? We were having a moment,” he huffs.
San puts his hands up innocently. “Yunho is setting up a Smash tournament. Also get a room,” he laughs at Jongho’s scandalized expression.
“Who needs a room?” Hongjoong, the nosy little shit, pops his head out into the hallway. No way he’s getting his kiss now. Wooyoung may not have any shame, but he does.
Sadly, he disentangles himself and helps Wooyoung up from the ground.
“You owe me a neck massage for dropping me,” he grumbles, no real heat behind the words. And Jongho agrees because, well, he does feel a bit bad.
“At least I went down with you,” he counters. “This hoe’s loyal.”
That gets a laugh out of everyone present, and the four of them file into Yunho’s room for games.
V.
Practice was grueling today. Ten hours total of learning, running, perfecting, and most of them are dead on their feet. Hongjoong drags himself to the studio, muttering about fresh beats, and Jongho doesn’t know how San and Yunho have the energy to keep dancing, starting to learn choreography from EXO. The rest of them pile into a van in a sweaty heap, the ride home fairly quiet. When they’re let loose for the evening, they draw straws to determine shower order and start to wind down.
Seonghwa has volunteered to shower last, not wanting anyone to be stuck behind his 20 minute shower. Jongho feels bad, but he is grateful.
In the meantime, Seonghwa cleans, first the counters, then the couch, then the floors. He’s onto vacuuming for the second time by the time Jongho emerges from his shower, and it’s because he’s vacuumed twice that Jongho knows something is wrong.
Seonghwa cleans every day, but it only gets excessive when something is stressing him out. Jongho watches him for a moment, trying to figure out what it is that’s bothering him, but Seonghwa doesn’t do anything but sulk, going to fetch the Swiffer for the floor. He notices Jongho then, and offers a half smile that kind of looks like a grimace as he loads the attachment and gets to work.
“It’s your turn for the shower, hyung,” Jongho says gently, as if speaking louder would frighten him. Seonghwa only grunts in acknowledgement, cleaning the floor with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. He hates seeing the other members like this, frustrated or upset, but he’s usually not the one doing the comforting. That usually falls to the one stress cleaning in front of him or one of their resident teddy bears.
He decides he can’t watch anymore when Seonghwa puts away the Swiffer only to exchange it for a rag and sanitizing spray, his goal seemingly to disinfect the entire dorm. Seonghwa startles as Jongho puts his hands gently over the cleaning tools, his faraway gaze snapping to Jongho’s concerned one. Neither of them do anything for a moment. Jongho takes a breath.
“Do you want to talk about it, hyung?” he tries, almost certain he knows what the answer will be.
Seonghwa looks surprised for a second, but gives him that pained half smile again, shaking his head but thanking him quietly. At least he goes to put the cleaning supplies away, Jongho cheers internally. Jongho catches his arm again, still just wanting to make it better.
“Let me run a bath for you,” he pleads. “You need to relax. Rest.” His eyes trail over Seonghwa’s tired face, still so handsome after sweating out of every pore he owns, and the older finally offers him a tiny smile. Real, this time.
“That would be nice,” he murmurs, trailing a hand across Jongho’s cheekbone. Jongho can’t help the heat that rises to his face, and hears a small chuckle behind him as he turns, flustered, to get the bath ready.
Once the bath is set up, bubbles everywhere and smelling like a rose exploded in the tub, he skips out to find Seonghwa again. The older has taken the spray bottle back up, no surprise there, and is scrubbing at a stain on the counter that Jongho knows isn’t going to come out. He thinks Seonghwa knows, too.
“Hyung,” he calls. “Bath’s ready.” He holds his hand out, wiggling his fingers expectantly.
Seonghwa’s gaze softens, setting down the cleaning products and slipping his hand into the younger’s to let himself be lead. They pass under the mistletoe, and Jongho doesn’t even think about kissing, too focused on cheering up his hyung. Seonghwa, however, takes the opportunity to pull Jongho back against his chest tightly. He feels a nose brush through his hair, then a lingering kiss being placed behind his ear.
“Thank you,” is what he hears in the space between them, whispered reverently. He relaxes in Seonghwa’s hold, head tipping back to rest on his shoulder. Some things are more important than kisses, he thinks, staring up at the mistletoe. He can try another time.
VI.
It’s Christmas Eve, and they’re recording season’s greetings and doing Vlives for atiny, clowning each other and having fun, and apparently they did a good job because they’re allowed off early. The members chat excitedly amongst themselves on the way home, plans of going out for dinner or doing… less mentionable things floating around as ideas in the car.
In the end they do go out, hearts and stomachs full as they laugh around a barbeque grill, sharing meat and kisses in the private back room. They do indulge in a few soju shots, the night leaving Jongho feeling airy and carefree when they eventually stumble back into the dorm.
“We’re not technically supposed to,” Hongjoongs voice can be heard over the general chatter. “But I thought, it’s Christmas Eve, and if we can’t go visit family this year we can at the very least do something festive here. We barely have anything to do tomorrow,” his voice shifting to mischievous. People are paying attention now. “So if you all are up for it…” Jongho turns to see Hongjoong pulling more alcohol out of the secret reserves with a hopeful face. “Party responsibly?”
Jongho sees Mingi’s face light up like a whole Christmas tree, the older immediately going to pull cups and mixers. There are some resounding whoops and cheers, but Jongho knows there are some members not as interested in drinking, which ends up suiting their impromptu party quite well.
The lights are dimmed, and there’s some American pop song playing from the speaker, as the night drags on and Mingi makes increasingly worse decisions. Jongho watches an already-tipsy Mingi challenge sober Yunho to go shot for shot, and it’s all downhill from there, really. Even when he’s making bad decisions and losing at drinking games, there’s something magnetic about the rapper that makes Jongho want to kiss him, or scream maybe.
That’s why he finds himself following Mingi out of the room after a few hours, unconcerned with everyone else who had paired off in twos and threes for either conversation or Fun Exercise. Jongho catches Mingi’s sweater sleeve, the older turning around right under the mistletoe. To his credit, he only stumbles a little. Jongho thinks he makes his intentions quite clear by placing his hands boldly on Mingi’s hips and pulling him a bit closer.
It’s clear that Mingi is still inebriated, though coming back down to earth after the shot fiasco. “Oh, what’s this?” he asks lightly, one hand coming to rest at the nape of Jongho’s neck and the other falling on his bicep, squeezing gently. Mingi is a known horny drunk, though they don’t drink often enough for Jongho to have seen it. He truly wasn’t trying to play into it, but if that’s the way it turns out, he’s not complaining.
Since the bold approach has gotten him this far, he decides to throw caution to the wind and just ask.
“Can I uh, can I kiss you, hyung?” Jongho lifts his voice slighty to be heard over the music, but he still dies of embarrassment on the inside. At least Mingi seems to be ecstatic.
“Are you trusting me with your first kiss?” he coos, eyes turned up into little crescents and looking like he just won the lottery. It makes Jongho feel fuzzy. He can only nod and give a small nervous smile, pulling the other closer once again so that their bodies are almost flush. Mingi is leaning down, and Jongho is leaning up, and oh god he’s about to kiss the guy who ripped his shirt off at MAMA, he’s gonna throw up—
“I’m gonna throw up.” and in the blink of an eye Mingi has torn himself out of his arms and retches into the toilet, having barely made it from the hallway. Jongho blinks, arms still bent at ninety degrees, trying not to feel too offended when he knows it’s because of the alcohol and not because he’s a repulsive human being. He wants to scream in frustration but settles for going to the kitchen and karate chopping a melon as hard as he can, breaking it messily in half. He chops the halves, too, for good measure.
+1.
It’s Christmas morning, and half the dorm is hungover from the previous night. That makes five unhappy campers including Jongho, who doesn’t want to roll out of bed and face another day of failed kiss attempts. Why is the universe working against him? He sulks around in bed a little more before deciding to take a blanket from his bed and cocoon himself, then shuffles out into the hallway.
As he plops down in a chair, a voice startles him.
“Why are you moping, Jongho-yah? It’s Christmas.” The soft, deep voice immediately soothes him, and he turns to see Yeosang coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of cereal, the older looking so cute and soft with his morning bed head. It’s just them out here, the stillness of the dorm interrupted by low voices coming from someone’s room, and Yeosang’s crunching.
Jongho sighs, looking down at his blanket-clad form. “’S stupid.”
Yeosang frowns, going to sit across from him. “If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid,” he says firmly, poking at his food. “Cmon, I won’t laugh, I promise.”
Jongho stews for a moment more, deciding that he’s had enough. He’s used to being patient, but why is he denying himself something he wants? Something every other man in this dorm would be happy to give? All he has to do is ask.
“Yeosang hyung, will you kiss me?” he murmurs shyly, hands fisting tightly in his blanket. He lifts his eyes and Yeosang is looking at him so, so tenderly that it makes his heart squeeze and burst all at once. He’s wearing a tiny smile and his eyes are shining, and Jongho is so stupidly in love. Yeosang cups Jongho’s cheek with one hand.
“I’d be honored,” he breathes. Jongho feels relived and nervous and excited and he really can’t wait to get on with it, but when Yeosang leans in he remembers something.
“Wait!” Yeosang withdraws, alarm in his eyes, thinking he doesn’t want this after all when Jongho stands and shuffles over to the mistletoe. He stands under it expectantly, bouncing on the balls of his feet and smiling excitedly. Yeosang huffs an exasperated laugh, coming to join him and still looking so, so fond.
“Okay, now I’m ready,” he beams as Yeosang approaches, the older shaking his head fondly.
“Last chance to back out,” Yeosang teases, coming to stand in front of him and once again cupping his cheek.
Jongho kisses him in response.
He doesn’t quite know what to expect, but Yeosang’s lips feel so nice and soft as the initial shock wears off and he leads Jongho into an unhurried rhythm, their lips slotting together nicely. He vaguely feels like he’s floating; it’s easy to imagine he’s in heaven or somewhere equally nice when he feels this happy and relaxed. Yeosang sighs into his mouth, and Jongho presses against him a little harder, getting the hang of how to move his lips and how much pressure to apply.
They part gently, though still breathing the same air, opening their eyes.
“How was that?” Yeosang whispers, as though speaking any louder would shatter the moment. Jongho suddenly can’t find the words, any at all, so he nods earnestly, hoping to get the point across. Yeosang giggles, breath fanning over Jongho’s lips as his eyes flicker down to his mouth and back up to his eyes. “Can I do it again?” he murmurs, coy smile beginning to spread over his lips.
“Please.”
And Yeosang’s lips are on his again, both smiling a little too much to kiss properly, but it doesn’t bother them. Jongho loses the blanket in favor of wrapping his arms securely around Yeosang’s waist, pulling their bodies flush. Yeosang makes a surprised noise that Jongho wants to hear again, wants to hear every noise Yeosang could possibly give as he kisses him senseless. So he reads the signals, adapts to what Yeosang likes, even tries licking across his lips and biting his lower lip gently to see what kind of reaction he gets.
Yeosang parts with a gasp this time, face flushed pink and lips spit-slicked and red from the attention the younger gave them. Jongho likely isn’t faring much better, feeling heat flood his face and heart hammering away in his chest. They’re panting the same air now, the space between them charged with tension.
“You-you’re a… quick learner,” Yeosang huffs, threading one hand through Jongho’s hair and resting the other on the back of his neck. Jongho ducks his head into Yeosang’s neck in embarrassment, inhaling his scent and humming lightly in response. It’s a comforting embrace, but Jongho doesn’t want comfort right now, he wants more.
He presses a kiss to Yeosang’s neck, then one to his jaw, and the last to the corner of his mouth when his breathing stutters. He wants to see his beautiful hyung panting and flushed because of him, wants to hear all of the breathy whines and soft moans that tumble from his mouth; Jongho realizes with a start, that he wants to absolutely ruin him.
It’s with that thought that Jongho walks him back until he’s caging Yeosang against the wall, breathing out a question of permission before he continues. At Yeosang’s quick affirmative, he crashes their lips together again, this time not wasting any time in licking into the older’s mouth. The slide of their tongues together is good, so good and Jongho runs his hands up Yeosang’s sides as he licks into his mouth. Yeosang groans low in his throat, and knowing it was him that caused it is kind of ridiculously hot, and he would have no reservations about doing it again if it weren’t for the sound of a door opening bringing him back to reality.
“Hey, no fucking in the hallway—woah wait.” Seonghwa seems incredibly surprised at this development, taking in the sight of Jongho and Yeosang with their faces flushed and pupils blown wide. Everyone just stands there for a couple of seconds before Seonghwa opens his mouth again to continue. “Why didn’t anyone tell me we can kiss Jongho?” he asks, not sounding hurt but curious.
“Um, this is new,” Jongho admits shyly, not moving an inch from Yeosang’s body. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while but I guess the right time, ah, never came up,” he says, memories trailing to the previous week. War flashbacks.
“Ah, then I’m happy you did,” the oldest smiles softly. “Also, we’re building a blanket fort in our room, last one to contribute a blanket gets the drafty spot next to the opening.” He ducks back inside, likely to give them a bit of privacy (and to gossip to Hongjoong).
“I guess we’d better get a move on,” Jongho murmurs, pressing one last sweet kiss to Yeosang’s lips and detangling himself, missing the warmth immediately. They smile at each other softly, secretly, until—
“DID SOMEBODY SAY BLANKET FORT?!” San’s door slams open, the man carrying Shiber in one arm and four blankets in the other. “Oh hi guys, Merry Christmas,” he smiles, dimples and all.
Yeah, Jongho thinks. It is.