Archive of Our Own

Jaehyun’s new year’s resolution is learning how to say no to Taeyong. (By “new year’s resolution,” he means trying it out for a couple of days before completely giving up on it, but he doesn’t want to admit that yet. As of 2PM on December 31, he is still determined to take on the challenge.)

Of course, when he tells the older about it, Taeyong is quick to argue. “No fair,” he whines aloud, earning them a couple of glares from the people at the grocery store. They’re picking up supplies for the New Year’s Eve party that Jaehyun definitely did not want to host but agreed on doing so anyway because Taeyong “politely asked” him to.

“Excuse you,” Jaehyun says as he placed several bottles of sodas on the cart. “What’s not fair is you talking in pout and using your puppy dog eyes every time you want something you know I won’t readily agree to.”

“That’s not not fair.” Taeyong pouts. “It’s called negotiation.”

“You’re doing the look again.”

The older shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See, this is not negotiation. This is brainwashing,” Jaehyun mumbles as they walk into the party utilities aisle. He moves to take over the role of pushing the grocery cart while Taeyong walks around, gathering stuff from the shelves. 

“Hey, don’t act like you don’t wanna spend tonight with our friends, too.” Taeyong’s voice strains as he stands on his tiptoes, trying to reach for a packet of plastic cups. He mutters a quick thanks when Jaehyun easily retrieves several of it for him.

“I do want to spend tonight with them,” Jaehyun replies. He’s now taking two steps at a time, trying to keep up with Taeyong who has run off to the end of the aisle. “But if you didn’t agree to host a party, I’m pretty sure someone else would. Then we won’t have to worry about all the cleaning up and stuff.”

Taeyong looks up from the banner set he’s been checking. He considers it for a moment, puffing his cheeks out before nodding. “Okay, true, but...” he trails off, raising two different banner packages beside his face. “Should we go for gold or rose gold?”

“Go for gold,” Jaehyun answers with a smirk. He likes the pun. He really doesn’t care about the colors. “But what?”

Taeyong tosses the gold package to the cart. He shrugs. “But, one, that’s such a freeloader thing to say—”

“It’s not! We’re the ones who cook almost everything anyway,” Jaehyun whines but Taeyong just ignores him.

“Doyoung and Yuta are getting tired of everyone’s shit during the holidays. One of these days, I’m afraid they’ll just fly off to Japan to escape all of us. And two—” he throws in two more packages (one of them in rose gold) “—I like hosting parties. My apartment was just not big enough before. Now it is.”

“But I hate cleaning up party messes. And it’s our apartment, by the way—put the glitter down.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes and sighs as he returns the tube of glitter on the shelf. “Fair enough. But it’s not like you’ll be cleaning up alone.”

“I’ll be cleaning 50% of it,” the younger grumbles. “70% if you pass out on the couch halfway through.”

“75,” Taeyong corrects. Jaehyun shoots him a fake-annoyed look but when Taeyong laughs, his expression softens like a kneaded fondant. “I’m kidding, baby,” Taeyong coos.

“No, you’re not.”

Taeyong chuckles louder. He kisses Jaehyun’s cheeks in front of the Buy 1 Get 1 sign, still giggling as he does so. “Okay, maybe not. But you love me.”

“Unfortunately,” Jaehyun teases, adding a heavy sigh for dramatic effect.

Taeyong backs away from him, all physical contact severed. His gaze burns when they meet Jaehyun’s, a threat forming in between his eyes. “ Un -fortunately?” he echoes, eyebrows raised.

“I’m just kidding!”

Taeyong slaps him on the chest with a pack of table napkins. “You better be.” He tilts his chin up ever so slightly in a way that’s supposed to look smug, but since he’s Taeyong, it just ends up looking cute.

“Brainwasher,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath a little too soon. Taeyong is only a few feet away.

“Call me that again and you’ll be cleaning the apartment yourself,” the older warns.

Behind him, Jaehyun makes a face. “You can’t make me.”

Taeyong stops and turns around. He waits until Jaehyun finally catches up to him before walking up to the younger until their faces are no more than six inches apart. He leans a bit to peck Jaehyun at the tip of his nose. “Wanna bet?” he mumbles.

The tip of Jaehyun’s ears turn an alarming shade of red. “No,” he answers, gently shoving Taeyong’s face away, resulting in an explosion of laughter from the older. Taeyong catches his hand in mid-air, mid-shove. He uses it as a leverage to anchor themselves together, meeting somewhere in the middle like magnets of opposite poles, fingers linking in the spaces between the others’ as naturally as puzzle pieces fit.

“I’ll clean up with you,” Taeyong says, eyes sparkling, as if he just promised Jaehyun the gift of a lifetime.

Jaehyun pecks him on the space right between his eyebrows before returning his gaze. “You really should,” he replies with an equally dramatic tone and expression.

Taeyong snorts. “Dumbass,” he says, and even that sounds endearing. 

“Brainwasher,” Jaehyun bites back.

Taeyong looks at him pointedly, effectively shutting him up but not before he can muster a sheepish smile and mutter a tiny “I love you.” That’s his version of Taeyong’s pout and puppy dog eyes combo.

After they’re finally done gathering everything they need, they head off to the counter to pay. Jaehyun suggests that maybe next time, they could ask Doyoung and Yuta to do the shopping instead. Taeyong’s eyes light up at the mention of a next time. Jaehyun curses himself inwardly, but before Taeyong could make a huge deal out of it, he excuses himself to go to the restroom, a sorry attempt of escaping the hole he himself has dug.

When he comes back, he catches the look of surprise on Taeyong’s face when he spots him. It confuses him at first, but he discovers the reason upon seeing the cashier punching in a tube of glitter and a can of spray-on snow. Before Jaehyun could even object, the items were already stacked inside the jumbo box with the rest of the groceries.

“Did you sneak those in?” Jaehyun glares at Taeyong who just puts on his innocent look, puppy dog eyes and all. Goddammit, Jaehyun thinks to himself. His new year’s resolution is growing more and more challenging to achieve.

“No, they just accidentally fell from the shelf,” the older replies.

Jaehyun just sighs. “You’ll also accidentally pay for it.” 

Taeyong seems to be okay with that. But when the cashier hands out their bill, Jaehyun whips out his card faster than a lightning strike. Taeyong whines in protest, but Jaehyun just tells him to treat him out for some coffee later.

In the car, before Jaehyun could even start the engine, Taeyong peppers him with a dozen kisses coupled with a dozen thank yous. Jaehyun’s breathing grows uneven and uncomfortable with each kiss, and so does the fit of his pants. He warns his hyung that if he doesn’t stop, they might end up staying in the parking lot longer than they intended to. Taeyong almost takes it as a challenge, but Jaehyun reminds him that the pistachio ice cream they just bought is probably starting to melt. 

“Fuck pistachio,” Taeyong grumbles right after he marks Jaehyun’s skin just beneath the collar of his shirt. Despite his complaints, he sinks back on the passenger’s seat, putting his seatbelt back on before crossing his arms over his chest.

Jaehyun chuckles. He likes to believe Taeyong only pretends to hate pistachio flavored ice cream the same way he pretends to be allergic to peaches. Somewhere deep inside, he knows there’s a part of Taeyong that adores it solely because it’s Jaehyun’s favorite flavor. He feels it’s kinda connected somehow. He’s not exactly sure how, but it just is. Whatever though, he could no longer think straight.

“Yeah,” he exhales. He’s not really sure what he’s agreeing on. “God, please keep that energy til we get home.”

That night, on the couch, Jaehyun kisses Taeyong senseless after he’s finished about a quarter of the ice cream tub. It could be his imagination but Taeyong seems to be sucking on his lips harder tonight. He pulls back with a moan.

When he meets the older’s eyes, he finds something like a mixture of amusement and confusion in his gaze. “Was that…'' Taeyong trails off, licking his own lips. 

God fuck, that’s hot, Jaehyun thinks to himself. That act with that expression, fuck, Jaehyun had to gather every bit of self control to keep himself on the line. But despite the younger’s growing frustrations, Taeyong seems to be on a completely different trail of thought.

“Was that the pistachio?” the older tilts his head.

Jaehyun had to take a moment to process the question. He finds his lips caught in a smirk. “Was what the pistachio?”

“Your mouth.”

The younger laughs, incredulous. “I guess?”

“Huh,” Taeyong muses. “It’s actually not that bad.”

“Oh this feels good,” Yuta sighs, putting his feet up on the coffee table. He cries after getting slapped on the leg not a moment after. 

“Down,” Jaehyun says.

Yuta looks at his best friend as if someone kidnapped the original Jaehyun and replaced it with a creature who looks exactly like Jaehyun but isn’t Jaehyun because this one actually cares about the wellbeing of a coffee table. “What the fuck,” he mutters to himself.

“Forgive him, baby,” Doyoung says, just walking into the living room. “He’s just stressed about cleaning up all the potential mess here later.” He hands Yuta a bottle of beer before plopping down on the couch beside him. He puts his feet up on the coffee table as well, most likely just to irritate the shit out of Jaehyun. Doyoung has made a hobby of that.

It works. Jaehyun whimpers in protest, but he couldn’t actually say anything because it’s Doyoung, and—well… isn’t that enough reason in itself?

“Hah,” Yuta yaps. He downs a gulp before placing the beer bottle at the end of the coffee table and putting his feet back up. “Which reminds me,” he spreads his arms wide, one of them going over Doyoung’s shoulders. “Thanks for sparing my apartment this year. I sincerely appreciate it. From the bottom of my heart. Really. Thank you.”

Jaehyun eyes him carefully. Nothing about Yuta sounds sincere, but that’s not really anything new.

Beside him, Doyoung echoes the expression of gratitude. At least, he sounds a bit sincere. He leans back and snuggles closer to Yuta, moving as if it’s an automatic response. Jaehyun still couldn’t believe how they managed to stay so strong together given the origin of their history.

“Don’t thank me.” Jaehyun glares at the older of the two. “Down,” he says again.

“For fuck’s sake, unclench your ass, Jaehyun-ah,” Yuta whines. “It’s not like I’m gonna take my socks off and leave it lying around.”

“You’re also not even half drunk yet,” Doyoung says, matter-of-factly, “which means the probability of that happening may currently be low but it’s definitely not zero.”

Yuta narrows his eyes at his boyfriend. “Whose side are you on?”

“Just saying,” Doyoung mutters.

Just like that, they spiral into an argument about what kind of drunk Yuta is. Jaehyun knows for a fact Doyoung is the one who’s spitting truths, but Yuta knows exactly how to neutralize his half-hearted attacks so their conversation easily shifts into disgustingly adorable playful banter.

Jaehyun sighs, already feeling like he’s third-wheeling under his own roof. He stomps away with an excessive eye roll, and goes off to search for his own person he likes to get fake-annoyed at.

He finds him in the kitchen, hunched over the counter, trying to carefully decorate several types of canapes. Jaehyun watches quietly as Taeyong sticks his lips out, humming to himself in concentration. When he successfully places the cheese on an entire row, Jaehyun figures it’s finally safe to break him out of focus.

“That looks wonderful,” he says, wrapping his arms around Taeyong’s waist from the back.

Taeyong perks up at the gesture. He picks a canape from the tray and tells Jaehyun to say Ah . “I need your professional opinion,” he says, popping the tiny snack into Jaehyun’s mouth.

With half-mouth full, Jaehyun mumbles, “My professional opinion says it’s perfect.”

Taeyong scrunches his nose. “Your professional opinion is also incredibly biased.”

“True,” Jaehyun acknowledges. He kisses Taeyong on the cheek. “But I’m not lying. It really tastes amazing.”

Taeyong pouts but Jaehyun kisses that off too. He finally accepts the compliment with a shy smile and a small thanks. He changes the subject right after because even if Jaehyun throws him several praises for several things like his life depends on it, Taeyong still doesn’t know how to take them as openly as he should.

“So what are you doing here? Your cookies are still baking. I think,” Taeyong says. “What happened to ‘entertaining the guests’ like you said you would?”

Jaehyun rests his chin on Taeyong’s shoulder as the older continues to work. “Well, the ‘guests’ right now are just Doyoung and Yuta. They’re probably sucking each other’s faces off as we speak. I don’t wanna watch that,” he says. Then in a quieter voice, he adds, “I’d rather just suck your face off too.”

Taeyong fakes a gasp. “Scandalous,” he jokes. “But we can do that later. What happened to the people we invited?”

“Not here yet. It’s just 7:30, Yong. We did say it’s a New Year’s Eve party, not a dinner.”

“Good,” Taeyong sighs, brushing his hands off of each other, “because we have nothing to feed them.”

Jaehyun’s thunderous laugh echoes across the entire room. He finally lets go of Taeyong’s waist when the older requests him to “work his magic” on the plating. When Taeyong isn’t looking, he pops another canape into his mouth. He got caught but Taeyong only glares at him momentarily before eating one himself. They agree to make some more later.

A few more minutes pass and the oven bell rings. The smell of oatmeal cookies envelops their tiny kitchen. Jaehyun is used to the smell of freshly baked pastries, what with having his senses filled with it from 9 to 5 at work. But Jaehyun knows it still gives Taeyong that melt-in-a-puddle feeling. The tighter hugs he receives whenever he bakes something at home is more than enough evidence.

“Fuck yes. Cookies for dinner,” Taeyong announces.

“No.” Jaehyun lifts the tray up like an idiot as if that would do anything.

“Why not?!”

Jaehyun frowns. “What do you mean why not? These are for later!”

“Oh come on. Just one!” Taeyong whines. He’s pulling out his A-game, the whole pout and puppy eyes combo. Anything for Jaehyun’s baked goods, as expected.

Jaehyun smirks. Taeyong may be good, but he is better. He has a new year’s resolution to fulfill, for fuck’s sake. He will learn how to say no to Taeyong, whatever it takes. (Well, not really, whatever it takes. But again, he doesn’t wanna admit that just yet.) 

“No,” he repeats, more stern this time.

Taeyong groans. “This is unfair! I gave you canapes.”

“And I’ll happily make you more of it,” Jaehyun replies smugly.

Taeyong clicks his tongue. “Just one!” He tries one more time. He brings in the excessive ‘oo’ in his words and, fuck it, that just does things to Jaehyun. “Please, baby. While they’re hot.”

Ah goddammit whatever, Jaehyun sighs to himself. The new year has not yet come anyway. His resolve can still waver all it wants. “Fine,” he grumbles, already breaking off a piece from the tray and popping it in Taeyong’s mouth. “But we’re still eating a proper dinner.”

Taeyong grins, eyes lighting up either from the cookies or the fact that he had just once again, to literally no one’s surprise, won over Jaehyun. Perhaps it’s a little bit of both. “Love you,” he says with a matching peck on the lips.

“Brainwasher,” Jaehyun mutters.

“Fuck you,” Taeyong says, all bark, no bite.

Jaehyun snorts. “Sure. Later.”

At 11, the party is already in full swing. Guests have filled almost every corner of the apartment, their closeness to the party hosts ranging from best friends to people Jaehyun has never met in his life. He assumes they’re their neighbors. Taeyong thought it was a good idea to invite them over so they can be as loud as they want. Given that the bass of the speakers are pounding on the wall and no one has come to tell them to shut the hell up yet, the plan seems to have worked out pretty well.

Taeyong’s gold banners decorated the walls. Jaehyun doesn’t know where the glitters and the fake snow are used on, but he’s sure they’re there somewhere. Every food they prepared is laid out on the table. Their boss, who has brought yet a different guy from the one he introduced to them on Christmas Eve, had the courtesy to bring several bottles of champagne. The rest of the liquor are lined up on a table near the kitchen, most of them already opened and nearly half-empty.

Jaehyun is among the audience surrounding Yuta, the perpetrator of the drinking game at the dining table. Jaehyun doesn’t really follow the rules they set. He thinks they’re ridiculous. After all, he’s just there to enjoy himself watching his friends get drunk.

Beside him sits Mark who’s way too quiet for someone who’s in a party. Jaehyun doesn’t want to assume, but he feels like he knows why.

In the kitchen, he sees Donghyuck, Taeyong’s prized little apprentice, hanging out with Jeno, Jaehyun’s prized little apprentice. They seem to be friendly enough with each other as they refill the dips for the chicken wings. By friendly, Jaehyun literally just means friendly. No innuendos. He’s pretty sure Hyuck, like Mark, is still hung up on whatever complicated history they had with each other, and Jeno is always visited by some guy named Renjun at work—far too often for two people who claims they’re ‘just friends’. Jaehyun ought to know. Taeyong used to show up at the cafe more often than he liked to admit back when they were still tiptoeing around each other.

The living room seems to have been converted into a weird karaoke-dance floor hybrid. In the middle of it, Doyoung and Taeyong, along with the many people Jaehyun has never met, are having a little dance off while singing (see: screaming out) some Ariana Grande song.

Jaehyun only needs to watch a few seconds of Taeyong’s moves to know he’s already half drunk. He sees Taeyong dance regularly. He always comes with him every time he conducts dance classes for kids every other weekend. So he knows Taeyong’s drunk dancing when he sees it. His hips groove a different kind of way, and there’s definitely more trunk movement. It’s still sexy, of course, but then again, when it comes to Taeyong, Jaehyun is incredibly biased.

“You still look at him like you did those many months ago,” Mark says beside him, pulling him out of his reverie.

Jaehyun smiles to himself. He doesn't realize he’s being that obvious. “How’s that look like?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Mark shrugs. “Like you can’t love him enough,” he answers. “Except now, there’s less apprehension.”

Jaehyun laughs. He feels his entire face heat up. Whether it’s from the alcohol or just from the rush of emotions he’s feeling at the moment, he’s not sure. He looks at Taeyong again. When the older catches his eye, Jaehyun suddenly gets hit by a wave of nostalgia, as if all the times they’ve spent together just sinks in. Sometimes, it’s crazy to think they’ve really come this far. Taeyong stops dancing to wave at him for a moment. Something in Jaehyun’s chest gallops.

“Yeah, well,” he sighs with a smile, “you’re not wrong.”

Jaehyun is in the restroom when the countdown starts. The moment he hears Yuta's voice towering over everyone else’s—” Ten second countdown, everyone! TEN!” —he swears to whatever higher being there is, his pee stops midstream as if his bladder forgot how to function properly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters, zipping his fly up and flushing the toilet all in one second.

Nine.

He rushes out, searching for any sight of Taeyong among the crowd. All he sees are a bunch of random faces with the occasional exception of their familiar circle of friends.

Eight.

He grabs Yuta by the arm, who’s already found his place beside Doyoung. “Where’s Taeyong?” he asks, a bit out of breath.

Yuta shrugs. “Dunno. I haven’t seen him.”

Six, the countdown on the TV says.

Jaehyun is starting to panic now. Nothing about that countdown hitting zero without him finding Taeyong feels right. Where is he?

Five. He sees him finally at the balcony. Mark and Donghyuck are there too. Taeyong seems to be right in the middle of their conversation. Jaehyun almost laughs— What’s he even trying to do with the kids, he wonders—but the clock is running. 

Four. Likewise, he runs.

Three. He gets there, but not without bumping several shoulders on his way. Thank god their apartment is not as gigantic as Yuta’s.

Two. Taeyong’s entire face lights up when he sees the younger. They entirely lose themselves in the space where their gazes meet. Everyone else just dissolves in the background along with the entire apartment.

One. Jaehyun gets pulled by his shirt collar the same time he grabs Taeyong by the waist. They meet in the middle, not too soft, not too rough. Just the perfect amount of cutting each other’s exhales and sharing a momentary breath. Jaehyun tries not to think too much of the blended taste of cookie and champagne on Taeyong’s mouth but wow, that’s quite a taste.

Taeyong pulls back with a gasp, but Jaehyun’s lips follow him like a lifeline. Taeyong laughs, pecking him one more time before resting their foreheads against each other.

“Happy new year, baby,” Jaehyun says breathily.

“Happy new year, Jaehyunie.” Taeyong grins back. One more kiss because they can’t get enough, then another just because they can.

The sound of fireworks exploding in different areas of the city brings them back to reality. Jaehyun only realizes they weren’t alone on the balcony when Mark awkwardly clears his throat. 

“Uhh… we’re just gonna…” Mark says, hands vaguely gesturing towards the sliding door.

Beside him, Donghyuck grimaces. “Disgusting,” he exclaims. “I mean it’s cute, but god. You two are such show offs.” He rolls his eyes before walking past everyone into the apartment. “Let’s go, Mark hyung. Happy new year, love birds.”

Mark mutters a small sorry and greets them a happy new year before following Donghyuck inside.

Taeyong buries his head at the crook of Jaehyun’s neck in embarrassment. His laugh comes out in breaths which tickles the younger’s sensitive spot. Jaehyun wants to squirm away but he also finds he likes this position a lot.

“What’s with them?” he asks. “Did you set them up?”

“No. I’m confused too.” Taeyong frowns. Jaehyun is pretty sure he’s already half drunk. His eyes are already moving around a lot. “Pretty sure they still like each other.”

Jaehyun only hums in agreement. Whatever it is betwen those two, it’s far too complicated to worry about at the moment.

Behind them, colors still light up the sky with every sound of explosion. The distance from where the fireworks detonates makes the loud booming more bearable. The sound of the party is muffled from outside the balcony door too. There’s something weirdly comforting about this set up, as if they’re wrapped inside a bubble where only the two of them matter even if the world around them is in a quite literal chaos.

Jaehyun, being the hopeless romantic he is, simply couldn’t let the moment pass without doing something incredibly cheesy. He pecks the space between Taeyong’s eyebrows, mumbling “I love you” against his skin.

“Lowkey thought you weren’t gonna kiss me at 12,” Taeyong admits with a timid laugh. “You weren’t here when the countdown started.”

“I was peeing!” Jaehyun says in defense.

“Gross.” Taeyong scowls. “Did you even wash your hands?”

“Of course.”

“Liar.”

Jaehyun laughs loudly. Fine, to be honest, he just splashed some water on his hands then wiped them off on his pants to dry. But what can he do, he was in a hurry. 

“I actually have to go again,” he says. The part near his pubic bone is beginning to hurt.

Taeyong snorts. “Okay, tiny bladder.”

Jaehyun pokes the tiny part of Taeyong’s stomach just below his belly button in retaliation. The older moans in protest. He slaps Jaehyun by the arm, but the latter just laughs.

“Hey, slow down on the drinking, okay?” he says, already heading inside. “We still have to clean up after.”

Taeyong groans. “Fuck it.”

Jaehyun chuckles to himself. Maybe the new year’s eve party won’t have a next time after all.

The party slowly begins to die down after 1AM. More than half of their guests have vacated the space. The only ones left are their original circle of friends and a few of their next door neighbors. Someone, probably Doyoung, has turned off the bass on the speakers so it’s not as blaring anymore. It’s still playing an Ariana Grande song though.

As the apartment slowly empties, the realization of the amount of mess looms heavier over Jaehyun’s head. Taeyong has yet to make his own observation of this fact. He’s still too busy drunk dancing in front of poor little Jeno to notice that their place has been trashed.

Jaehyun himself had a fair share of drinks, but he’s never one to get easily swayed by the influences of alcohol. On nights like these, his job has almost always been to rally up their drunk friends and even more so, his boyfriend.

So he makes sure his friends go home safe. He lends his car keys to Doyoung because his usual driver Yuta has already passed out cold. Doyoung also volunteers to drive  Mark, Donghyuck, and Jeno home. Jaehyun is just glad he wouldn't be on that ride.

When the apartment is completely deserted by everyone except its original owners, Jaehyun finally walks over to Taeyong who was stil standing in the middle of the living room. Taeyong is singing and swaying by himself, alcohol in hand.

“Baby,” Jaehyun says. He easily incorporates himself into Taeyong’s uncomplicated dance routine, plucking the champagne glass from the older’s hold. “I think you’ve had enough of this.”

Taeyong lets go of it easily but he still whines when he realizes Jaehyun has taken his drink away. “I’m still drinking that!”

“Not anymore.” Jaehyun downs the remaining contents of the glass before setting it down on a nearby table. He makes a face. It definitely does not taste like how he expected it to.

“Baby, I’m so dizzy,” Taeyong mumbles, throwing his arms around Jaehyun’s torso and burying his face on his chest.

“I told you to slow down on the drinking.”

Taeyong only hums. A little while later, he muses, “Yeah you did say that.”

Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his head. “I did,” he replies. “Let’s sober you up?”

“Are you still gonna make me clean?” Taeyong pouts.

“Of course.”

Taeyong sighs and mumbles something under his breath but Jaehyun couldn’t catch it the first time. When he asks his hyung to repeat it, Taeyong obliges, “But you said your new year’s resolution is to say no to me.”

Jaehyun blinks. “I–what..? That’s not—” he stammers. “Yong,” he warns, matching it with the sternest look he could muster, but Taeyong doesn’t look the least bit intimidated.

“What?” the older whines. “You said it.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Taeyong pretends not to hear anything. “So are you still gonna make me clean?” he asks, before muttering, “New year’s resolution.”

“That’s not how it works,” Jaehyun grumbles.

Taeyong pokes him on the belly. “Say no. Be a man of your words.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, stifling a laugh. His resolve will not waver, he tells himself.

“Say no!” Taeyong exclaims.

“This party was your idea.”

“You agreed to it!”

“Because you said you liked it.”

“I do.”

Jaehyun frowns. He forgot the entire point of the conversation. Taeyong doesn’t seem to be following as well.

“I don’t want to clean. I’m so sleepy, baby. Can we do this tomorrow?” the older says, tugging on Jaehyun’s arm. “Trash won’t run away, right?”

Jaehyun looks around their apartment once again. It does look like a storm wreaked havoc on their little home. There are several plastic cups littering the floor. Puddles of alcohol are scattered here and there. There’s also a random sock under the coffee table. Jaehyun doesn’t even have to think about whose it was. He vividly remembers Yuta walking around barefoot.

Part of him thinks that if Taeyong wakes up to this whole mess tomorrow, he’d spend an entire day lecturing Jaehyun about not letting him clean it up before going to bed. But the better part of him thinks that sleeping sounds like a brilliant idea.

Jaehyun sighs to himself. He figures it’s easier arguing with the sober Taeyong tomorrow than the drunk one right now. “Alright, fine,” he says, “but let’s get you some fluids first.”

“More champagne?” Taeyong asks.

“No.”

Taeyong giggles. “Hey, you said no. You’re finally getting it.”

Taeyong climbs on top of Jaehyun after he changes into pajamas. Jaehyun accepts his entire weight with a heavy grunt, his hand immediately flying to Taeyong’s back to offer him some stability.

It remains quiet for a while. The only sounds that could be registered are the faint puffs of their breathing and the gentle thrum of the air purifier. Jaehyun was just beginning to think Taeyong had already fallen asleep atop his chest when the older speaks.

“Jaehyunie,” he says.

“Hm?” Jaehyun runs his fingers through Taeyong’s scalp. He discovered a few months ago how it works wonders in helping his boyfriend sleep.

“Am I making it hard for you to breathe?”

“No,” Jaehyun answers. He likes the slight pressure of Taeyong’s weight against his chest. He feels as if he could feel every beat of his heart inside his rib cage.

“Good. I like it here.”

“Me too.”

“Are you nervous?”

Jaehyun frowns. “No. Why?”

“Your heartbeat is loud,” Taeyong mumbles.

Jaehyun tightens his grip on Taeyong’s back as his torso vibrates with a laugh. “You’re literally lying down on my chest, Yongie.”

“True.” Taeyong snuggles into him even further. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“Nope, it’s fine.”

The next question hits a bit differently than the previous ones. “Does it get hard taking care of me?”

Jaehyun thinks for a moment. He wonders if they’re going to spiral into yet another one of their alcohol-mediated deep talks. It would be amusing more than anything. So much for keeping up to tradition. “No,” he answers finally.

“Cool. But was there a time when you thought you wanna rest? Like, you know, just a break or something.”

“No,” Jaehyun’s answer comes quick. “Not since—” he stops himself. He doesn’t really want to get into the past right now. So he just repeats himself. “No. Never. Why are you even asking this?”

“Do you think you’ll ever stop loving me?”

“No. Not a chance.” He tries to pull Taeyong upwards just to see a good look on his face. The line of questioning is becoming more and more concerning. “Is there a problem, baby?”

“None at all,” Taeyong replies. Contrary to what Jaehyun is expecting, there’s a sound of a slight smirk to Taeyong’s voice. It drives Jaehyun mad with confusion but the older does nothing to clear anything up. “Do you think our relationship moved too fast?”

“No.”

“Too slow?”

“God, no. Definitely not—you know, this is such a weird version of 20 questions. Seriously, what’s this about?”

“Do you think I’m annoying?”

“No, but what’s this about?”

“Just answer me,” Taeyong grumbles.

“You’re making me nervous,” Jaehyun whines.

“It’s really nothing, Jaehyunie.” Taeyong assures him with their usual five-step kisses: on the forehead, on the nose, one for each cheek, then on the lips. It’s a thing Jaehyun started during the first few months since they’ve started dating. 

Taeyong perks up on his chest, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “You think I can beat you in arm wrestling?” he asks. There’s something mischievous in his gaze, but it could just be the alcohol.

Jaehyun snorts. “Hell no.”

“Wanna bet?” Taeyong grins.

“Sure. What do you—”

Taeyong groans loudly, rolling off of Jaehyun. “Damn it. That was so close,” he says, kicking the sheets like a child throwing tantrums.

Jaehyun scrambles to a sitting position, trying to figure out what the hell is the matter. “What? Are you okay? What was so close?”

“You already said no to me nine times,” Taeyong pouts. “I was aiming for ten.”

“Oh.” Jaehyun stares at him. He blinks three times. His body lets go of the tension he didn’t realize it was building up. “God, okay,” he exhales, sinking back into his side of the mattress. “You’re insane for that, honestly. Fuck, I was getting worried something’s brewing in that little head of yours again.”

Taeyong laughs, climbing back to his previous position on Jaehyun’s chest. He gives him another round of the five-set kisses, each one paired with a mutter of I’m sorry. “My head’s fine. Just tipsy,” he says. “I’m sorry I made you worried.”

Jaehyun sighs. Perhaps the pout and the puppy dog eyes will just remain catalogued to his list of weaknesses forever. “It’s okay,” he says, “But don’t think this changes anything. My resolution is still strong.”

“Please,” Taeyong scoffs. “You’ll break in two days.’

More like one, Jaehyun thinks, but he doesn’t tell Taeyong that. He has enough power over Jaehyun as it is. The last thing he needs is an ego boost.

“But that was cute,” Taeyong adds. His pout this time gives off a different vibe. It’s no longer asking for a favor. It just exists to tug on Jaehyun’s heartstrings the way nothing has ever done before. “The way you said no to everything I asked with conviction and all.”

“Well, yeah,” Jaehyun replies. “I was afraid something upset you somehow. I hate it when you get those doubts. It scares me.”

Their history has been stamped with too many lessons learned about giving up and letting go that it’s not much of a challenge to get whisked away by the same streams of insecurities every once in a while. They always try their best to make sure it doesn’t happen as much as possible. But of course, those moments just tend to happen unprovoked sometimes.

Taeyong makes a sound that’s something between a squeal and a laugh as he tucks his head just above Jaehyun’s collarbone. “God, you love me so much, it’s insane,” he mumbles, arms engulfing the younger in a tight hug.

Jaehyun chuckles. “Damn right, I do.”

“Good thing I love you too,” Taeyong says, “so much.”

Jaehyun slaps him playfully on the butt. “Stop making it sound like you’re doing me a favor, brainwasher.”

Taeyong giggles, but his next words come as a taunt. “If that nickname sticks, I swear to god I will make you regret it.”

“Ooh scary,” Jaehyun says in a monotone voice. Taeyong slaps him in the arm this time, but he just laughs. “Go to sleep. You’re gonna be cleaning the apartment with a hangover tomorrow.”

“That’s just cruel,” Taeyong moans.

Jaehyun shrugs. “You did it to yourself.”

Taeyong groans, kicking the covers again. “Maybe you should say no to me sometimes.”

“You think?” Jaehyun scoffs.

“I said maybe.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Go to sleep,” he grumbles. “Happy new year, Yong. Goodnight.”

Taeyong lets out a yawn before replying, “Night, Jaehyunie. Happy new year.”

The familiar sound of Chet Baker’s voice wakes Taeyong up a little past 2PM. The headache is expected, and so is the dryness of his mouth. He sees his tumbler by the bedside table with a note right beside it, hydrate yourself before standing up – j.

Taeyong obeys the small piece of paper.

When he got up, he had to wait a few seconds until the entire room stopped spinning before he even dared to take a step. As far as hangovers go, this one isn’t so bad. The symptoms are mild, and he’s pretty sure he could still remember everything from the night before. The headache is enough to get him a hangover soup but it definitely won’t excuse him for work.

Taeyong grunts as he stretches his limbs out before finally deciding to let Chet Baker’s serenade lure him outside.

What he finds, he definitely did not expect. His apartment looks exactly like how it did this time yesterday, which is definitely not how it should look like the morning after new year’s eve.

“Fuck all these glitter,” he hears Jaehyun’s voice from the kitchen.

Taeyong totally forgets about the tiny glitter wonderland gimmick he made with Doyoung. It was supposed to be a prank for Yuta, but he got drunk faster than they expected. Now, it seems Jaehyun became the receiving end of the practical joke.

“You okay, babe?” Taeyong asks aloud, voice hoarse. God he needs more water.

Jaehyun walks into the living room, a biscuit in hand. He doesn’t seem to be coated in glitter. “You’re awake,” he perks up.

Taeyong inches towards him, eyes still roaming around their home. “Was there a party here last night or did I just dream everything?” he asks. His mouth gets stuffed with half of Jaehyun’s biscuit a moment later.

“There was. You weren’t that drunk.”

“Then why does everything look so normal?”

“Why else,” Jaehyun grumbles. “I did 100% of the cleaning. Well… 90%—” He looks down on his feet. Apparently, the glitter is on Jaehyun’s slippers. “Your abominable glitter is still the kitchen. I don’t care. I’m not cleaning that shit up. And also, the other pair of Yuta’s sock is still missing, so it’s probably around here somewhere.”

Taeyong wants to scold Jaehyun for walking around the entire apartment with glitters on his feet. It’s gonna be harder to clean up when it’s scattered like that. But then again, this whole thing is his fault. And also, he feels guilty. “Ohmygod,” he says, still unbelieving. “Why would you do 90%? We said 50!”

“I dreamed you kicked me out because I didn’t force you to clean up last night even though I know you hate waking up to a mess,” Jaehyun deadpans.

Taeyong’s face scrunches even more. That can’t be real.

“I’m kidding,” Jaehyun says before shrugging. “I was just in the mood. Also, I could use it as leverage for the next time I have to say no to you.”

“Sure,” Taeyong just laughs. It was never really a matter of how much Jaehyun holds over him. It’s more of a self-control thing, really. When it comes to Taeyong, Jaehyun tends to throw his out of the window. Negotiation is way easier. What better ego boost could one get, right?

In front of him, Jaehyun holds a hand outstretched. “Dance with me?” he asks, but he was already pulling Taeyong towards the middle of the living room. “I’m gonna let these damn glitters punish you.”

“No fair,” he whines.

“You bought them,” Jaehyun retorts.

“True,” Taeyong sighs. “But I don’t wanna dance. I’m hungry.”

“Just one song. Next song’s your favorite,” Jaehyun says. 

“I’m hungover!” he tries.

But they’re already getting in position. It comes as naturally as sunrise. They stand without any inches apart. Taeyong’s arms take their usual place around Jaehyun’s shoulders while Jaehyun’s snake around his waist. It’s less of dancing and more like swaying in tune, really. But Taeyong prefers this way better.

The last song ends and the all too familiar tune of My Funny Valentine starts playing. Taeyong feels his insides turn into putty. Just something about this melody turns on a switch inside him, like an insant trip towards memory lane. He’s not sure if it’s possible but he moves even closer to Jaehyun, so close that when they breathe, they no longer know whose chest is moving.

In silence, Taeyong inhales Jaehyun’s scent. He takes in the moment, just one of the many other subtle explosions of happiness they’ve created, like a mini new year’s eve in the middle of their living room. He closes his eyes, and fireworks light up at the back of his eyelids. It’s their little bubble, this whole scene, their little home, and Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around him. It sets them apart from the chaos that is everything else in the world. Taeyong adores it with his soul.

Jaehyun’s torso vibrates as he hums along to the tune. Halfway through the song, they start stepping, feet moving to the rhythm. He really couldn’t believe Jaehyun did 90% when they agreed on 50. It does too much to his already wildly beating heart. And now, he’s dancing in the living room with a hangover just because Jaehyun asked him to, his protests be damned.

Taeyong laughs to himself.

“What?” Jaehyun asks. 

“It’s pretty obvious but I just realized,” he answers, “I don’t think I could say no to you, too.”