Chapter Text
"You have one new voicemail!"
Jimin nearly dozed off while checking his phone. The tiredness came not from a lack of sleep, but instead, too much— he perked up a bit from the sound of someone messaging him, though. It had been a while, no matter who it was. Jimin only had three and a half casual work friends.
Beep. " Hello! Jimin, right? This still your number? I hope you’re well these days. "
Jimin narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. The voice was vaguely familiar, but it certainly wasn't from his department. He would know, there were only five people he worked alongside when solving cold cases.
Maybe Jimin should turn off his Christmas tree lights for the night. The bright light was seeping into his sleeping space and disturbing his rest.
Jimin's head hit the pillow again.
" This is Namjoon. University friend, profiler, hope you haven’t forgotten, haha! I saw you in the hallway at work today, but I forgot I had something to ask ."
Jimin's head un-hit the pillow.
Namjoon. Of course. His half friend, because they only ever spoke in passing for five minutes at a time— it was certainly something, though. Occasionally, he would see Seokjin and Namjoon together in the parking lot on his way out of the building, but as for everyone else…
Jimin's only way of knowing they were all alive was that nobody brought up any of those names in the police station.
" Uh, Seokjin-hyung and I are hosting a Christmas party next week, actually! " The audio roughed up a bit, and Namjoon kind of sounded like he was recording the message while in a car, but Seokjin's name sounded like it came from the very tip of his tongue like he smiled whenever he said it. " In celebration of our new house, hyung phrased it as, also a get-together type of thing, you know? Fun little reunion, err—
" We plan on inviting the whole group from our school days, if you remember. Wondered if you'd like to be there too— we've already gotten a call back from Yoongi-hyung and Hoseok-ssi. Just waiting for Jungkook, and now you. "
Jimin stilled, sitting up completely and letting his blanket slide down the bed to his knees. His back cracked loudly. But—
“ Oh, and Taehyung. Jungkook-ssi, you, and Taehyung-ssi. Everyone’s invited. I see Jungkook has read my messages, though. I bet he’ll be there, Jin-hyung ran into him at the grocery store. ”
Taehyung. And everyone. Jimin rubbed the hem of his shirt between his thumb and forefinger— he would do the laundry soon. He had a reason to, now, instead of just because an adult should.
“ Sorry. TMI, they still say that? But, uhh, yeah! Call back if you’ll be there, I’ve texted you the details. I know it's hard to catch a break these days—"
The audio crinkled again. Days off, or entire breaks, weren't hard to ask for these days. In fact, some days, they were given randomly, and Jimin tried to take that as a good thing.
" But if you're able, everyone would love to have you there. Later— or, bye! ”
Beep. " You have no new voicemails. "
Jimin frowned.
He didn’t have any plans for the holidays this year, his family all back in Busan and his friends all doing their own thing, nor was he prepared to have any. Truthfully, Jimin was almost anticipating just sleeping in for seven days straight, but Namjoon— Namjoon would’ve known he got the day off by now. The funds that were supposed to go to the cold case team illegally went to personal Christmas gifts this time of year, and the frail ball of dignity weighing down Jimin’s chest refused to let him find an excuse to skip out on this reunion. They were all best friends— family , even— at some point, after all.
Checking the messages from Namjoon had him scratching his head, because Jimin could never find the happy in-between of casual and formal outfits to match ' semi-formal ' dress codes. He was not big on fashion, wearing what he thought looked good within a single glance— it used to be Taehyung who was good at this thing. Taehyung, and Hoseok too, if he remembered properly. This was troubling, let alone how Jimin also hadn't done his laundry precisely because he didn't think he would be doing anything.
Jimin's life as a social butterfly ended thirteen years ago. Three and a half friends, now four if he pushed it, was more than he needed, everything he wanted; or at the very least, what satisfied him. Except six old friends was what he found and made everything from all those years ago.
Over the course of these years, however, Jimin's clothing size only changed by a single size higher. He won a small pot belly in his thirties, as opposed to the abs he tried so hard to keep up in his salad days.
Somewhere, in one of the boxes under his bed, Jimin kept a group photo of everyone on Christmas together, in one of their family's homes. Jimin didn't know off the top of his head what year, or even which box it was in, but he definitely had a picture, from a party that mixed Seokjin-hyung's graduation, Taehyung's birthday, and Christmas. It caused a week of straight bickering when they couldn't decide on a dress code, and ultimately decided on everyone bringing three outfits for each third of the celebration. Seokjin’s had been semi-formal. Taehyung didn’t follow any of them, not even his own.
Jimin rubbed his temples— would anybody realize if he wore the same outfit? He should still have those clothes, and the photo for reference. It took place about eighteen years ago, Jimin doubted anyone would notice, forget bringing it up at all.
Sliding his legs over the side of his bed, Jimin checked his closet, as well as searched the basket of dirty clothes in the corner.
There was something warm stirring in his stomach, like homemade reheated soup on a snowy morning. Or perhaps like hot chocolate, warm and sweet, marshmallows floating on top to make him smile. He didn't know why— it had been seven years since everyone was together, and fifteen since they were separated from the hip— but Jimin suddenly wanted to laugh.
Later, Jimin wouldn’t shut the lights off on his tiny Christmas tree and go to sleep. Rather, he’d stare at it while he sent Namjoon a voicemail back, and dream about what Namjoon’s tree would look like.
**
‘ You’re invited to Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon’s Christmas party!
December 22, @ 6:00 - 11:00 p.m. Semi-formal dress code. No need to bring presents.
Hope to see you there! ’
Jimin read the invitation text from Namjoon for the umpteenth time. He bought presents for the six people he would know once he was in the party, because that was just what he did, even if he couldn’t afford half of them, and back in the day, it was what all of them did. And Jimin also made and brought cookies, simply as a decent guest, as a decent adult.
Jimin read the invitation again, and again, and again, as if he got the address wrong and ended up in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The blow-up Santa Claus on the front lawn looked like it might stuff Jimin in a sack and deliver him to the wrong home. Not even just the blow-up Santa Claus— the house itself looked intimidating, seemingly using Christmas lights instead of walls.
Or, more likely, just as they’d always used to, Seokjin-hyung went overboard (or rather, oversleigh) with decorating. It was too late to run now.
Stalling, Jimin ran off to double check his car was locked and walked slowly back to the front porch. It took him a minute after knocking to realize the door had been unlocked the entire time.
Jimin entered just in time to hear Ariana Grande belting out through television speakers about avoiding falling in love on Christmas day. Also, Jungkook, probably on a karaoke mic. The memory of those soft high notes had been burnt into Jimin’s brain since the beginning of time— in a good way.
Balancing his tray of cookies in one hand, Jimin made sure none of them fell onto the boot trays as he unzipped his boots and placed them aside. For a moment, Jimin let himself be more excited than nervous, hoping it would be a, “fun little reunion,” as Namjoon phrased it in his message, before noticing that unless there were three dress codes again and everyone brought three pairs of shoes, Jimin knew six out of like, thirty people.
Chances were, Jimin might not even see all of them. Considering they were his only motive for attending, not wanting to disappoint with his absence, it was hard to take it as a good thing. But Jimin tried. If anything, he already knew Jungkook would be wherever a karaoke machine was.
There was already a stranger sitting on a shoe bench that Jimin had to shimmy past to get out of the entryway. Following the paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling to the kitchen wasn’t nearly as hard as Jimin thought it would be, navigating through a small crowd of people huddled around a single wooden bench. Also, the entire kitchen was exploding with some gingerbread scent. Probably from the five candles on the dining table. He couldn’t even smell the actual food, nor his own cookies.
Maybe bringing cookies was too predictable a move on his part. As Jimin crab walked past some people, he found four trays of cookies already laid out and displayed on the table to mock his late face. Santa would have had a field day if he was invited.
Jimin set his tray down, fixing the layout. At least, no one else had been predictable enough to also bring chocolate chip. Although, his cookies looked admittedly miserable next to— were those realistic Grinch drawings on cookies ?
What a shameful life Jimin had led. He woefully grabbed one of his own cookies, shooting stinky eyes at the crumby Grinches and going to find himself a drink.
There were a few framed photographs, considerably less than the totally necessary number of lights and strings and wreaths around the kitchen, but they got all the attention. Not even nicely arranged, smack dab in the middle of one of the dining room walls. Passing them by, Jimin noticed why it must’ve been Seokjin to hang them up, and why Namjoon would have agreed with anything as long as they were there. They were wedding photos.
The white matched the ceiling snowflakes. Not in a single one of them did the couple look prepared, or like they knew the photo was being taken at all, but it made Jimin smile. It was sweet— the cake Seokjin smashed into Namjoon’s face in the center photograph was sweet too, from what Jimin recalled of their wedding.
Soon enough, Jimin was swishing sherry around a wine glass. Most guests had moved to the living room, and instead of following the commotion, Jimin was content to stay back in the dining room. He was alone with a mother trying to feed her toddler some salmon, silently cheering her on whenever she sighed and put the spoon down.
“Kids, huh?” The mother asked out of the blue. Jimin cocked his head to the side, not expecting to be addressed like this. “Sweet things,” she said through gritted teeth, more so to herself before looking at Jimin, “How do you manage?”
Jimin gulped, laughing sheepishly. He barely thought about having any. “I don’t. Don’t have children, don’t have any sweet things, actually.”
“Oh, really?” The mother hummed, and Jimin felt his armpits begin to sweat.
He was forty, single, with no children. He lived alone in a very happy apartment, not too far from his workplace. Most days, he had no problem with this. ‘Married to his job.’ On days like these though— Jimin peeked into the living room where a youthful couple kissed under a mistletoe in the archway, glanced at Namjoon-hyung and Seokjin-hyung’s wedding photos— it was hard to tell whether the questions were the problem or his situation.
“Yeah, haha.”
“Ah, well.” The mother smiled and shrugged, patting her kid’s head once he finally ate, “I can understand.”
Jimin nodded and bit his tongue. Well, yeah, he sure hoped the woman did.
“Good luck with yours,” Jimin said quieter than he thought he would, nodding again at the mom and her kid and dismissing himself from the dining table. He could go for some more noise right about now.
Swiftly avoiding the mistletoe, Jimin sipped his sherry wine straight and left for the dimmed lights of the living room. Someone else was singing to Nat King Cole, and now Jimin didn’t even know where Jungkook was, let alone the party hosts.
He knocked back the rest of his drink. There wasn’t even the beginning of a buzz. It was too early for Jimin to leave at a time that was respectable and socially acceptable, and he at least had to let Seokjin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung know he showed up for a while.
Maybe, if he actually wanted to try, Jimin would’ve found everyone by now. The house was still half empty, after all. But it’d been too long since he saw any of them and everyone at the party was basically a stranger. Alone, Jimin felt like the strangest.
Suddenly, the space beside him felt oddly empty.
Jimin kissed the rim of his wine glass.
“Jimin-ssi?”
Jimin jerked his head back and pressed his glass to his chest, like he’d been caught in the actual act.
But that voice— calmly and composedly fixing his sleeves underneath his coat— he should probably hang his coat up— Jimin turned, slow and steady.
"Oh, Taehyung-ssi," Jimin said with certainty, before he even fully looked at the man as if he'd been expecting Taehyung. Really— he was, Jimin knew Taehyung would be there, but he wasn't expecting to be found first. "Hi! Hello."
Taehyung grinned, ear to ear— Jimin trusted his gut to tell him it was genuine. He could remember a time where he memorized how many teeth Taehyung would show based on how happy he was, but those numbers were long forgotten. "Hey, man! I knew it was you, you're wearing that trench coat."
"Sorry?" Jimin apologized, both because he didn't quite get it and because he wouldn't have been able to recognize Taehyung by the white turtleneck he was wearing alone.
"No, no— it's alright. I gave it to you in university though, didn't I?" Taehyung was still smiling, teeth glinting, but they'd dimmed slightly, like he was unsure— didn’t want to be wrong.
Jimin got the hit to his head though, memories knocked back into him. "No, I think so! You did, you did."
Taehyung sighed with relief and reached forward to pat Jimin's sleeve, stroking his arm. Jimin would've pulled away, it had been too long for the touch to still be comfortable, but it was exactly for that same reason that he didn't. Surely, it wasn't too late for it to be comfortable again. "You— it looks good. Looks like you took great care of it, I'm surprised."
Not too late, right?
"Of course I did, why wouldn't I?" Jimin returned the smile, not as wide but just as sincere. He looked Taehyung up and down— since the last time Jimin saw him, the only sign Taehyung had aged at all was his stubble stealing some hair from his hairline and growing into a short beard. Taehyung began squinting, looking at Jimin more thoroughly as Jimin admitted, "I think it was you who put this outfit together in university."
At this, Taehyung's jaw dropped, pausing and resting his hand on Jimin's elbow instead. "Really? I don't even remember, man."
"Yeah— saved me back then and now, I still can't dress myself," Jimin laughed lightly. He sipped some of his wine again, watching Taehyung watch him. "You look good, though. Still got that stylist in you, I see— nice beard. Your wife isn't still against them?"
Taehyung sheepishly rubbed his chin, eyes tracing the wooden floorboards, "Ha, thanks, man! It's still short, but I can finally have one. She isn't here to stop me anymore, so…"
"Oh, I'm so—"
"No, no! She's alive." Taehyung abruptly waved his hands around, like he didn’t even want to hear the condolences. But for whatever reason, he still looked completely happy. "It was me, I broke it off a year ago."
"Last year?" Jimin scratched his head. He knew he missed a lot, but he never knew exactly what he missed, and now— he wanted to know why Taehyung decided to end it, because then it sounded like it was all a waste of time, but he wasn't in the position to ask.
Jimin flinched. "Well, as long as you're happy, yeah?"
"Couldn't be happier." And Taehyung sounded like it. Jimin took a deep breath.
"Then congratulations." Jimin held back onto Taehyung's forearm. "And how is Haeyoung-ie?"
"He's great, actually! He moved out and got into SNU, doing better than all of us at the time I think, honestly." Taehyung puffed his chest out, typical proud dad mannerisms. Jimin laughed again, and Taehyung had the pride to flex an arm like a superhero.
"I hope to see him soon, that's amazing. Wouldn't expect any less with such a great dad."
"Heh, thank you on his behalf. How's work?"
"Slow, but considering my job," Jimin chuckled, "I think that's a good thing."
Taehyung hummed and nodded. "Good, great. Have you met anyone yet?"
"Huh?" Jimin froze again. At this point, Jimin might just marry for the convenience of his sanity, but then— he would only be lonelier, and Taehyung would be the first to find out with how deeply he stared, no matter how long it had been. He had always seemed to know Jimin’s secrets before Jimin knew them himself, as long as he remembered everything. So, Jimin spoke truthfully, albeit half-jokingly, "No. Not yet— though I guess I should, before everyone our age gets married to each other and I’m left with no one."
"Wait under that mistletoe, someone'll come soon enough." Taehyung pointed at the archway Jimin saw some couple kissing under earlier with a boyish smirk, nudging Jimin's side. "Won't be too bad and embarrassing, I promise."
"Psh, you don't know that." Jimin pushed his arm away, sherry nearly spilling from his glass. "I will if you go with me, it's humiliating to stand alone."
"I could know! Jimin-ssi, how old are you?"
Jimin tutted, "Old enough. Tonight, I am 40, 613 and 26."
He only laughed because Taehyung started first. "Maybe you can try asking Santa Claus for your younger years back. Never too old to ask the grand man for things."
Jimin pretended to search his pockets for a pen and paper, Taehyung leaning his elbow on his shoulder. “I might just. Got his address?”
For the rest of the party, Jimin didn’t find himself wanting to leave again. There were empty spots in his timeline, parts of the plot he missed completely when he stopped watching, but Taehyung filled him in on everything. How Seokjin and Namjoon were planning on adopting in the future (Namjoon always wanted to be a dad, that everybody remembered). How Hoseok was planning on proposing to Yoongi on Christmas (Taehyung lowered his voice especially then, like high schoolers gossiping about romance between teachers). How Jungkook was helping produce new music scores for Minecraft (to be released in the 2.14 update).
How this was Taehyung’s first Christmas without a lover in ten years. Here, Jimin let him know—
“Well, I’m alone this Christmas too, as always. So, we can be alone together, like the old days,” Jimin had said, when they reminisced on their days as roommates.
“Don’t say ‘old days’, please. Don’t remind me that my little son is old enough to have his own kids.” Taehyung sighed, but he was back leaning into Jimin like they already made up for all the lost time. “But alone together, huh? Keep saying that, it sounds… festive.”
Jimin snorted.
When the end of the party came, Taehyung pushed Jimin aside when they had somehow made it to the kitchen and were leaving, to, “Save you from the mistletoe. Everyone’s leaving with their lovers, who’s going to kiss you?”
“Mine, they’ll certainly be somewhere.”
Taehyung nudged him again while Jimin was trying to put his shoes on. Jimin nearly fell over, but he’d pulled him back by the back of his jacket collar and into a hug without hesitation, “Bye, Jimin-ssi.”
Jimin missed them, those hugs. He missed a lot of things, a lot of people. Taehyung was already one of them when Jimin replied, “Yeah. Don’t be a stranger, Taehyung-ssi.”
Before Jimin went home that night, he jokingly made a stop at the post office. Maybe it was the leftover feelings always in the passenger seat that made him feel colder when he drove home alone from social events, but he really had found a pen and paper in his pocket. Taehyung swore not to let anyone know when Jimin stole an envelope from the Kims’ house.
Jimin sent the letter to another guy he hadn’t written to in literal decades. All the way in the North Pole, Jimin felt terrible to give him more work this busy time of year, merely hoping second chances weren’t too much trouble to ask him for.