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The apartment was dark, the only lights coming from the TV and the small Christmas tree you had put up in the corner of the living room. It was peaceful, despite the chaos that was Home Alone 2: Lost in New York playing on the television.
It still kind of smelled like gingerbread cookies, you noted happily. You had spent the morning baking–gingerbread and snickerdoodle and sugar cookies–busying yourself with festive activities while Yoongi was at physical therapy. His rehab had started to ramp up ever since he had his stitches removed, and you found yourself enjoying the few hours of quiet you got while he was doing his exercises and showering and taking a nap.
A small snore drew your attention, and you smiled. Yoongi had laid down with his head in your lap when the movie started, claiming he just wanted to get more comfortable because of his shoulder, but he had fallen asleep before the McAllisters even made it to Miami. Gently, you brushed Yoongi’s hair off his forehead before carding your fingers through it. It had started to grow long since his surgery, and you were always amazed at how soft it was, despite the fact that he seemed to dye it every few weeks. Carefully, you pulled the blanket that was draped over him up so that it covered his shoulder.
You felt him stir slightly, and your hand went back to his hair in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep. Yoongi needed as much rest as he could get if he was going to heal, and you knew therapy had been kicking his ass the past few days. So, while he had been the one to suggest watching the Home Alone sequel, you didn’t mind that he was sleeping through some of the best parts of the movie.
He looked so peaceful while he slept, with his right hand tucked between his knees. It was probably the best sleep he’d gotten since his surgery, having only gotten permission to stop using his immobilizer a few days prior.
It was the gunfire that woke him up. He rubbed his eyes groggily as the mobster cackled and sprayed bullets with his tommy gun. You chuckled softly as Tim Curry’s bellman and the rest of the Plaza Hotel employees hit the ground.
“Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal,” you mutter, stroking Yoongi’s hair. He smiled up at you tiredly. “And a happy new year.”
Yoongi pushed himself up as the last gunshot went off, his face scrunched up as he tried to wake himself up fully. He yawned and rubbed at his face with his right hand before scooting closer to you and grabbing your hand.
“I fell asleep,” he said simply, entwining your fingers.
“You did.”
He hummed and slouched against you. “I’m still tired.”
“Go back to sleep.” You smiled as he brought your hand up and brushed his lips against your knuckles. “Honestly, Yoon. If you’re tired, sleep. I won’t be mad. Might change the movie, though.”
He leaned away from you and shot you a look of fake anger. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You don’t even like Christmas movies.”
“I like this Christmas movie,” he muttered as he settled back against you.
You turned to stare at him, which was difficult given how close he was and how heavily he was leaning against your left side. His attention was on the movie, watching raptly as Kevin escaped from the Sticky Bandits. “You’re kidding me.”
He hummed and shook his head. “It’s a good movie.”
“It’s not even the best Home Alone movie-!”
He scoffed. “That’s pretty subjective-”
“No seriously. What’s its score on Rotten Tomatoes?” You leaned forward to grab your phone from where it sat face-down on the coffee table. He huffed in frustration, and you let it drop, sitting back and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. You pulled him close, tugging more on his shirt than his actual arm so as not to hurt his shoulder, and pressed a lingering kiss to his temple.
“It’s not a bad movie,” he mumbled dejectedly, and you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. You smiled into his hair and kissed him again before leaning your head against his.
After a moment of silence, you turned your attention back to the movie. The Sticky Bandits had just gotten to the renovated house.
“I actually do like this movie,” you conceded, laughing as Marv finally got into the house only to fall through a hole. “It’s not bad.”
“You’re the worst,” Yoongi groaned, squeezing your hand.
You stayed quiet for the rest of the movie, watching as Kevin and the Bird Lady outsmarted Harry and Marv and Kevin was reunited with his mom. When Kevin noticed the two turtle doves in the Christmas tree, you could feel Yoongi smile against you.
Your brow knitted and you glanced toward your own tree, not even ten feet away. “Yoon?” He hummed. He was still staring at the tv, but you knew he was listening. “Is… is Home Alone why you wanted me to move that dove ornament to the front of the tree?”
“No.” You could tell he was shamelessly lying. “I just thought it was pretty.”
“You’re such a liar, honey boy, you know that?” You laughed, bumping against him gently. “What’s with you and this movie? It’s like… the last thing I would have expected you to be drawn to.”
He shrugged. “My brother and I watched it a lot growing up. We didn’t really do the whole Christmas thing as a family. And then with Bangtan, we don’t ever get a lot of time for Christmas, but we always draw lots on what Christmas movie to watch together.”
“You ever win?”
“I don’t have a lot of luck.” Yoongi laughed and squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “I know it’s a dumb movie. I just like it.”
You shook your head and hummed. “Oh man. And here I was, thinking you were the perfect guy. But bad taste in movies?” You sighed dramatically. “That might be a deal breaker.”
He scoffed. “You admitted to liking it not even half an hour ago.”
“Sounds fake.”
Yoongi glared at you for a moment, his mouth set in a firm line. “Okay.” His voice was deathly calm as he stood and stretched. He started to walk away, trying to scoot between your legs and the coffee table. You straightened your legs and caught him between your calves, crossing your ankles so he couldn’t escape. “Hey, you’re the one that said it was a deal breaker. I’m just making it easier.”
You laughed. You couldn’t help it. He sounded so serious, but you could see the hint of mirth in his eyes. He huffed, his jaw clenched, as he tried to push his way through your blockade. You grabbed his wrist just as he did. “Now, to be fair, I said it might be a deal breaker. But I think we could negotiate.”
You tugged on his arm gently and he fell onto you, landing in your lap as you let out an ‘oof.’ He sat there for a moment in silence before leaning into you. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him more firmly to you. After a second, you could feel him laughing. You shook your head.
“You’re the worst,” he said again. You could hear the laughter in his voice.
You hummed, reaching up to pinch his cheek. “You love me.”
“I do.” He kissed your forehead quickly before scooting off your lap. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table before scoffing and gesturing wildly at the tv. “How could you spend all this time shit talking Home Alone 2 when this exists?” Home Alone 3 had apparently autoplayed while you weren’t paying attention.
You laughed. “You know what, honey boy? You’re absolutely right.”