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Kai’s Christmas alarm is set for a blistering six a.m., but he wakes a few minutes earlier to a finger poking sharply into his cheek and a familiar warm weight slipping between his sheets.
“Yah,” Taehyun says quietly. “Are you awake?
“Nyzzh,” Kai answers, meaning, I guess I am now.
A bubble of soft green light appears in Taehyun’s hands, followed by the reedy line of a familiar melody. It’s a toy Christmas tree. Kai laughs in delight as Taehyun places it carefully above Kai’s pillow, illuminating them both in dim green.
Kai is wide awake now! He bounces up as Taehyun opens his empty hands. Kai hugs his knees to make more room for Taehyun to sit close on the bed, and Taehyun scooches in. With a flourish, he makes a small gift-wrapped package appear like magic in one hand.
“It’s Christmas,” Taehyun says.
“We’re going to do gifts later, aren’t we?” That doesn’t stop Kai from reaching for his present, though.
“I have something for you to open then, too,” Taehyun says. “But you should open something on Christmas morning, right? And this one’s secret.”
Some people would say something like, ah, it’s too much, but not Kai. The glow of Taehyun’s attention hits him with exactly the right brightness and warmth, and even if it didn’t, he would never say there was too much or too little of Taehyun, that anything he gives is the wrong amount. Maybe as a joke, or part of a game, but not here.
Anyway, wouldn’t most people be lying if they tried to brush off an extra gift? Kai just wants to see what’s inside.
It’s still pretty dark, with no light but the toy tree, so Kai doesn’t even pretend to open the gift carefully. He tears away the gold paper and lifts the lid off a smooth white gift box. It's a bracelet-length silver chain, polished to a shine even in the shadows.
Taehyun lays his fist on top of Kai’s knee. A similar chain, a gauge or two thicker, sits on his wrist. “I got myself one, too, but a little different, so only we’ll know.”
Kai has sort of lost track of why they spend so much time carefully collecting secrets to keep between the two of them. The world knows so much, and the company knows more, and the members know almost everything. From the beginning of their friendship, and especially once they became roommates, they shared an unspoken thrill every time they found a harmless little something to keep between themselves. Now it’s like a game, though Kai wouldn’t make it a competition because Taehyun is better at it.
This one is so good, a gift as pretty and delicate as the moment Taehyun made to give it, but strong enough to wear around all the time. Taehyun knows how to notice things, how to arrange them—Kai can find secrets, but Taehyun can make them.
They get asked a lot, in interviews, who’s the most romantic. The best answer is probably Yeonjun, who slinks through the world like he’s on a second date with it, but they rarely give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Soobin and Beomgyu pick each other with a hushed seriousness that Kai is definitely not going to be the one to figure out.
Kai and Taehyun usually make jokes. It’s their birthright as the youngest members to tease the others when they get squirmy questions like that.
But secretly—the kind of secret Kai doesn’t even share with Taehyun—isn’t the most romantic one Taehyun? He measures out his words but he’s big with his actions, like an older sister, or a boyfriend.
Maybe “thoughtful” is the best word for that. But right now—cozying together in Kai’s bed, looking at a pretty little thing glimmering in mood light—the word that wants to sit on Kai’s lips is “romantic.”
Romantic! It’s so big and so true, it makes Kai too shy to say it. “I don’t want to put it on until later, so I won’t have to take it off to perform,” he says instead, placing the box carefully aside.
Taehyun smiles with his eyes. “You’re so romantic,” he says, teasing.
“I was going to say that!” Kai throws his head back to laugh and slaps Taehyun’s knee. “I was just thinking that. I thought it first! You’re the most romantic.”
“Me?” Taehyun looks disdainful.
“You know, I was thinking about this yesterday,” Kai says. “‘I wonder what Taehyun has planned for tomorrow.’ Since Christmas is one of my days to get special Taehyunie attention.”
“Special Taehyunie attention,” Taehyun repeats flatly. “What does that mean?”
“We can all tell, you know,” Kai says. “When you think one of us is having a bad day, you make sure to take care of us. And Christmas is one of my days.”
Taehyun still has his upper lip curled like something is yucky. What a funny guy—he can do something so adorable and then turn to stone when someone says “how cute.”
“It’s good,” Kai says. “Everyone appreciates it. I appreciate it.”
Taehyun frowns, but instead of protesting, he melts, buttery and sweet as he wraps his arm through Kai’s and rests his head on Kai’s shoulder. “Is Christmas a bad day? I just didn’t know if it was harder for you to not be with your family. So I want to make sure to be here for you.”
Is it harder for Kai? He’s never thought about it—huh! His family did have different Christmas traditions than other kids he went to school with, but by now, all of the members have given up many family holidays and milestones to be here instead. It’s not Kai’s way to worry about what he’s trading off, or compare with the others, or spend his time feeling sorry for himself.
Like, he’d bet, all of them, one of his most treasured Christmas memories is watching music specials and imagining being on that stage one day. And he will be! With members he loves so much, finally starting to perform for full rooms again.
There’s no possible way he could have woken up that would have been better than this one.
“I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else,” Kai says. His voice does something weird out of his control.
Taehyun’s exhale falls between a laugh and a sigh. “Okay. But I was being serious.”
“So am I!”
Taehyun lifts his head and tilts his chin up, looking at Kai’s face. It’s hard to tell what he can see—Kai tries to look back, but Taehyun is mostly hidden in green shadows.
But whatever he sees, it must satisfy him.
“There are still a few minutes before we have to get up,” Taehyun says, and sinks down into the covers.
Kai follows him, snuggling close. The both of them together are too much for the bed, but Kai alone is too much for most beds—his feet always stick off the end—so it’s still more comfortable than not to share Taehyun’s warmth.
He did mean it—this is the only place he wants to be. He doesn’t know why Taehyun thought it was a joke. But he’s used to the things he thinks coming out wrong or landing strangely when he says them. Right now, resting together in the dark, it feels like the time to say a certain thing—the thing, right, that thing that sometimes people want to say. He could fold it inside the sparkly sentimentality of Christmas and tuck it away if it went wrong.
But he doesn’t want it to go wrong at all—for Taehyun to pull away, or worse, to say it back but to mean it the way he means it when his mother calls or the staff manipulates them into being nice to each other on camera. Kai shies away—better to hold onto it until he knows he’ll be heard. Even if the moment feels so right for it.
“Yah,” Taehyun whispers, taking a breath to say something—
“I like you!” Kai jolts up. “I was already thinking it. I thought it first!”
Taehyun’s face is as surprised as it ever gets, his eyes wide and shining in the dark. “I was going to say ‘Merry Christmas.’”
“Oh.” Kai shrinks back, feeling too bulky-huge and also very small. “Merry—”
“I like you, too.” There’s no rush in Taehyun’s voice, no odd volume or quiet, no burst of exclamation to end his sentence—he reports it like a fact, confirmed accurate.
They all have their rhythms. Soobin is a comma, stepping steadily from point to point. Yeonjun is a dash—he moves in leaps—his lines are bold. Beomgyu is a long sentence with a looping twist in the middle that skids to its end without any breaks for breath.
Kai is an exclamation point!
And Taehyun is a period. He is straightforward and certain. He makes each point with clarity. He likes Kai.
They eye each other from a hand’s distance apart. Kai is conscious of his dry morning mouth—does he smell bad? Taehyun doesn’t smell like anything except fabric softener, or sleep warmth, subtle and good, but maybe Kai is breathing grossness on him without even realizing it.
Kai shifts back, just in case, and Taehyun leans forward and presses his lips gently against Kai’s. It’s a kiss like a period, too, round and simple and firm.
Kai puts his hand over Taehyun’s between them, covering it completely, and turns his head to press closer. When Kai kisses him back, Taehyun jolts and the kiss breaks like a bubble popping.
“Do I smell bad?” Kai asks.
Taehyun shakes his head. “Was that okay?”
Kai nods. “I thought of that first, too.”
Taehyun smiles, little fangs glinting in the dark. “Well, I did it first,” he says smugly.
“I’ll be first next time,” Kai says.
“Okay.” Taehyun twists around to get the toy tree and starts the song back up, then takes Kai’s arm again, curling against him.
“What a good secret!” Kai claps his hands once, trying to let a burst of joy move through him without jostling Taehyun.
“It is, isn’t it?” Taehyun says. “Merry Christmas, Kai.”
Kai’s eyelids get heavy as the carol trills through and the warmth of two bodies under the covers seeps into his bones. His alarm will go off soon, but he lets himself indulge in the feeling of drifting back off with Taehyun holding him tightly.
The peace is broken by a scream in the hallway. Taehyun executes a barrel roll back into his own bed, athletic as a soldier, and Kai grabs the toy tree to hide the light under the covers as Beomgyu throws open their door.
“Wake up!” He yells, jumping onto Taehyun’s bed. “It’s Christmas!”
Taehyun’s alarm goes off first, Kai’s a moment later, two mismatched tones that play under the sounds of Beomgyu and Taehyun gamely trying to suffocate each other.
Kai turns off his alarm, hides his secret gifts in a drawer to think about later, and grabs a pillow to use as a weapon. “Merry Christmas!” he yells, like a battle cry, and dives in.