Work Text:
“Hwa, what are you doing?”
Seonghwa didn’t even look up from where he sat on their black leather sofa, trying not to lose count of the number of stitches he had made. “Knitting,” he replied after a pause, tongue sticking out as he struggled to poke his needle through a particularly tight stitch.
“I didn’t know you knit,” said Hongjoong, sinking down beside Seonghwa, easily pulling him into his arms, his chest against Seonghwa’s back as he hooked his head over the other’s shoulder. Trying not to get tangled in the bundles and strings maroon and pink yarn, he lifted his legs to hook around Seonghwa’s waist in a ‘koala cuddle’ as Seonghwa liked to call it—his favourite way to cuddle the older man by far. “What’re you knitting?”
Hongjoong was nearly knocked off the couch by how fast Seonghwa twisted around, his eyes sparkling that adorable way that made Hongjoong’s heart melt every time his boyfriend talked about something he loved. Hongjoong lifted a hand to pet Seonghwa’s (unfairly adorable and soft) pink hair as Seonghwa started to ramble.
“So you know Minho has these adorable cats?”
“Which Minho?” Hongjoong interjected, furrowing his eyebrows. Seonghwa was unsure if Hongjoong was messing with him or was genuinely clueless.
“Lee Min—no, not the actor, I swear to God, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa gave Hongjoong a friendly slap on the shoulder as the other giggled, palms resting easily on Seonghwa’s stomach with his fingers intertwined, pulling him just the tiniest bit closer to feel his warmth. “Minho, from–“
“Channie’s group? Ah, that one,” came Hongjoong’s reply, somewhat stilted as he remembered the sneaky, cunning face of Minho who he had last fallen victim of a glitter prank to (it took three whole days and half a bottle of shampoo to finally wash out all the glitter from his hair), making Seonghwa frown and drop his knitting.
“Ow-!” Hongjoong cried when Seonghwa pinched his nose between two crooked fingers, Seonghwa’s own face scrunched up.
“Oh, so you can call Chan ‘Channie’ but I can’t even be friends with Minho?” Seonghwa turned back with a defiant pout, resuming his knitting with a newfound fervour, punctuated by sharp, angry clacks of his needles. Hongjoong couldn’t help but coo as he repositioned his head to the crook of Seonghwa’s cheek.
Once a minute had passed and Seonghwa seemed adamant on remaining sulky, Hongjoong unlaced his fingers to place them over Seonghwa’s, who didn’t budge at the movement. He knew Seonghwa was joking, but boy was Seonghwa one to stick to his shenanigans.
“So,” Hongjoong tried, tapping his finger against the back of Seonghwa’s hand that never stopped moving, “what about Minho’s adorable little cattos?”
At this, Seonghwa whipped around again, this time turning completely to face Hongjoong, forgoing his faux anger to continue his spiel on four-legged fanged fluffballs. “There’s three of them—Soonie, Doongie and Dori—and they are all so adorable–“
Hongjoong couldn’t help himself when he leaned to press a soft kiss on Seonghwa’s cheek; the way he talked about things as if they were the light of the world was simply endearing . Seonghwa was completely unfazed.
“–and so I was planning to get the Strays Christmas gifts you know, like a good friend, and I had no idea what to get Minho–“
Another kiss landed in his fringe.
“–and so I settled on making sweaters for all of his cats and I hope he’ll dress them in them and–“
Another one on the tip of his nose, and this time Seonghwa scrunches his nose in surprise and mirth.
“–but, oh, Joongie, what if Minho doesn’t like them?” he ended melancholically, his hands falling to his lap along with his gaze.
Hongjoong let a fond sigh fall from his lips, seeing Seonghwa pout oh-so-cutely at the thought of Minho rejecting his (purest, most precious) Christmas gift, and he tilted Seonghwa’s head up with a finger under his chin so he could meet those big brown eyes that were starting to get glassy.
“Hey, Hwa baby, look at me,” Hongjoong called softly when Seonghwa tried to avert his gaze. Gently, Hongjoong leaned in to press a kiss, longer, sweeter, right in the centre of Seonghwa’s forehead. “Minho will love it, I’m sure he will. And if you’re concerned that he doesn’t like to dress up his cats, then maybe you can knit him a scarf or a hat. It’s the thought that counts after all—that’s what Christmas is all about.”
When Seonghwa refused to stop pouting, Hongjoong gently took his head in his hands and let their lips meet. It was short, chaste, and sweet, tasting like Seonghwa’s strawberry lip balm and Hongjoong’s cherry lip gloss. When they broke away, Hongjoong stared into Seonghwa’s eyes until the other looked away, flustered and turning pink.
“Don’t worry about it, okay, Hwa?” said the younger, voice quiet and soft, as though afraid of breaking the moment.
“Okay.” Seonghwa’s reply was small as he turned around to settle back into Hongjoong’s chest, wordlessly resuming his knitting, and Hongjoong made a mental note to threaten Minho with his life (and the kitchen knife set he had been planning on getting him for Christmas) if he dared to break Seonghwa’s heart over the cat sweaters he had put so much thought into as he leaned back against the sofa armrest, pulling Seonghwa close and stretching their legs across the seats.
Hongjoong hummed contently as he nuzzled the crook of Seonghwa’s neck, hoping his short orange hair was tickling Seonghwa’s ears just for the fun of it. “So,” he started, breaking the silence once more, “when did you start knitting again?”
“A while ago,” was Seonghwa’s quick reply. He spoke mindlessly, on autopilot as he usually was when he was focused. “This is practically my first time making something tangible so I hope it doesn’t look too ugly.”
“And Minho’s getting your first work?” Hongjoong cried dramatically, throwing his head back in mock distress, ignoring Seonghwa’s scoff. “How about me, your sweet boyfriend, your favouritest person in the whole wide world, don’t you think I should get my boyfriend’s first knitted masterpiece?”
Seonghwa was silent for too long, because Hongjoong opened his eyes and rested his head back against Seonghwa’s until finally he noticed that Seonghwa was mumbling.
“Sorry, what was that, Hwa, love?” Hongjoong knew that pet names at times like these tended to make Seonghwa shyer, and he was proven right when Seonghwa sank low into his shoulders and Honjoong’s embrace, mumbling growing only a tad bit louder but no more intelligible than the last. The tips of his ears were starting to turn a pretty shade of red, and Hongjoong nibbled gently on his right one, letting his warm breath fan over the sensitive skin.
“You’re gonna have to speak up if you want me to hear you,” he whispered, and Seonghwa let go of his knitting to bury his face in his hands, trying to obscure the ruby red that had climbed to his face.
This time, when he spoke, it was muffled by his pink sweater paws, and Hongjoong could barely make out what he was trying to say.
“I wanted to make sure I could make something pretty first…” he said, his ears flaming, making Hongjoong hug him tighter around his (soft, toned) tummy. “I would’ve given you my first work, but I’m not confident it’ll be good enough…
“I only want to give my best to you.”
This was it. This was going to be the death of Hongjoong at the ripe old age of twenty-three. This complete adorableness in his arms that he could freely call his, curled up and shy because he wanted to give Hongjoong his best, God, did Hongjoong feel like exploding with affection. He decided against the spontaneous combustion though, well-assured that Seonghwa would not appreciate having to scrub his guts out of the living room carpet, and opted for a soft kiss on Seonghwa’s head instead.
“ Jagiya , you know that I love you and everything you could ever give me, right?” he muttered into Seonghwa’s hair that swished about as Seonghwa nodded meekly. “You are perfect and enough, and I love you with all of my heart.”
He gave Seonghwa the grace of one tiny embarrassed squeal before leaving a small kiss on the tip of Seonghwa’s still-red ear and letting him get back to knitting in comfortable silence.
•
“Park Seonghwa, what is that?”
“Good morning to you, too, my beloved boyfriend,” Seonghwa retorted, moving to take a seat opposite Hongjoong at the table, only to stop once he meets Hongjoong’s unmoving questioning gaze. Specifically, directed at the white piece clothing Seonghwa had draped over his arm like a coat he had taken off upon entering a party.
Hongjoong scoffed as he rolled his eyes (fondly, but he will not admit that. Let Seonghwa think what he will). “Good morning, my only love and light in this entire world,” – it was Seonghwa’s turn to roll his eyes – “may I please know what it is that you have adorning your lovely strong arm over there?”
Seonghwa allowed himself a small chuckle as he rolled his eyes again, and unfolded the cloth on his arm to reveal a beautiful cream, almost-white knitted jumper, big and cozy and would definitely fit Seonghwa just nicely. Hongjoong’s jaw dropped and he didn’t bother picking it back up, milk dripping from his spoon of cereal he had been lifted up.
“Hwa… you made that?” Disbelief. Awe. Admiration. Whatever tone it was that laced Hongjoong’s voice made Seonghwa let out one of his cute little giggles.
“Yeah,” he sighed, lowering the jumper a bit. “I made it for you, after I finished all of my presents for Minho. Sorry I couldn’t finish it in time for Christmas too.” His voice had lowered, as though he was slightly scared to mention his Christmas gifts to Minho.
Ah, the Christmas gifts. Just like Hongjoong had suggested, Seonghwa sent along a scarf and beanie for Minho himself, and that night received several pictures of four cats: Minho with Soonie, Doongie and Dori, the felines dressed up in his handmade cat sweaters, Minho himself donned up in the white and orange scarf and beanie (Seonghwa had knitted cat ears on it). Minho had tried taking a picture of him hugging all his cats at once, but evidently gave up after one try and sent as many photos as he could taken however he could, with many thanks and love to Seonghwa and assurances that he and his cats loved his gifts very much.
(Hongjoong will let him live. For now.)
“I hope you like it,” Seonghwa mumbled sheepishly, looking away when Hongjoong stood up to inspect the sweater further. It was really well made, if Hongjoong had anything to say about it, all neat and even, and he ran his fingers to the ends of the sleeves, finding little holes for the thumbs and–
Oh.
There were cat paws (3D ones at that! Hongjoong’s brain supplied; the toe beans had been knitted to form little round mounds on the white expanse like actual paw pads against fur) on the sleeves if they were to be sweater paws.
And considering the jumper seemed it fit Seonghwa well, that only meant it would be big, oversized on Hongjoong, and…
Something definitely combusted inside Hongjoong’s chest when he realised what he was thinking.
Seonghwa looked up, shyly, perhaps a bit nervously as Hongjoong had yet to say anything, until he felt Hongjoong’s strong arms around his, and the blush that crept up his face as he tried his best to return the embrace with his arms sandwiched between them, fingers still clutching the sweater tight lest it fall to the floor and soil before Hongjoong could try it.
“I love it, it’s wonderful,” breathed Hongjoong, pulling away to leave a peck on Seonghwa’s lips (he definitely did not get any redder at that, no, he did not). “Cute, just like you.”
Before Seonghwa could let out any indignated flustered noises, Hongjoong snatched the jumper out of his hands, balling it up and leaving the kitchen as he grumbled, “I’m not wearing it in public by the way, I have a reputation to keep”, Seonghwa only catching a glimpse of his crimson red ears before he was shuffling off to their shared bedroom.
(But if he slept in it every night it came out of the wash, drowned in its Seonghwa-sizedness and pillowing his cheek against the soft pink toe beans, then that was only for Hongjoong to know, and perhaps for Seonghwa to indulge in.)