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Yoongi was tired. You could tell by the way his head leaned gently against yours, the way he was lazily rubbing circles into your right shoulder with his thumb, the way he was actually paying attention to the movie and not off somewhere in his mind. You felt a little bad knowing that his current exhaustion was partly your fault. But mostly, you were content to spend the evening cuddled up beside him. You thought–or at least you hoped–he felt the same.
You woke him up early that morning–not super early, but he insisted that any activity before 10am on a holiday was criminal. He had made you promise weeks ago that you wouldn’t go overboard for Christmas, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to make it special for him. So when you woke him up at 9:30 with Christmas breakfast, he was grumpy, but he only complained a little.
After you did the breakfast dishes, the two of you spent the morning putting together a puzzle and drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate. It was an unofficial BTS puzzle–a gag gift from Yoongi’s brother after his surgery–and the two of you enjoyed finding the slight imperfections in the knock-off. He had been the first to abandon the puzzle, and by 1:30, you were day-drinking and watching Christmas movies like the grown-ass adults that you were.
Which is how you found yourself curled up on the couch with a sleepy, sort of tipsy Min Yoongi at 4:30pm, attempting to choose the next Christmas movie you were going to watch.
“We don’t have to watch it again,” Yoongi protested. “I’ve seen it once this year. That’s enough!”
“I don’t see how you can call it your favorite Christmas movie if you don’t watch it ad infinitum.”
Yoongi scoffed and turned his head to stare incredulously at you. “You don’t even like it-”
“I don’t mind it-”
“You said I had bad taste in movies-”
“I say a lot of things I don’t mean, Yoon. I don’t know how to shut up. You should know this by now.”
He fell silent then, and motioned for you to play the movie. As the opening credits of Home Alone 2 started, you stole a glance over at him. His jaw was set and he looked more grumpy than tired now. You sighed softly. His thumb had stilled against your shoulder.
“We don’t have to watch this,” you said softly. “I don’t want us to fight on Christmas. Not over something dumb.”
“We’re not fighting.” His tone was firm, but it held no bite. “I’m not mad. I just want to relax and celebrate not having to wear that fucking sling anymore and fall asleep here on the couch beside you.”
You chuckled. “Then sleep, honey boy. Nothing’s stopping you.” Yoongi hummed and grabbed at the air with his left hand. You held out your hand and he smiled, entwining your fingers together before situating himself so that he was leaning more against you.
For a while, Yoongi was silent, and you thought perhaps he had fallen asleep. But then you felt him sigh. “Do you really think I’m the perfect guy?” He shifted to look at you, but you kept your gaze firmly locked on the McAllisters.
“Didn’t think you caught that,” you said quietly.
He sighed, and you could feel his gaze on you. “Just because you don’t shut up doesn’t mean that I don’t listen to you.” His voice was soft, and you could hear the barest hint of a pout.
You smiled at his nerves and squeezed his hand. “Of course you’re perfect. Why do you think I tried so hard to make this the best Christmas ever?”
“Oh so this isn’t normal for you?”
“No!” You laughed, playfully smacking his chest. “I wanted to make it special for you.”
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble-”
“I know I didn’t have to. Shut up and let me do something nice for you, holy shit.” You laughed, your hand easily falling back into his.
Yoongi smiled softly, ducking his head a little to hide his face. “I do appreciate it.”
It felt like Home Alone took forever to end. You weren’t lying when you said that you didn’t mind the movie. You had fond memories of both the original Home Alone and its sequel. The slapstick humor held up surprisingly well. Finally, though, the credits were rolling, and to your surprise, Yoongi had stayed awake for the whole thing this time.
You stretched your arms above your head, hearing your shoulder and neck pop. While you would never complain about cuddling with Yoongi, you did have to admit that it wasn’t always the most comfortable.
“Do you want to do presents now, or wait until after dinner?”
Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t getting each other anything this year?”
You laughed and gently bumped into his good shoulder. “I may have lied.”
“Good.” He smiled widely, his teeth and gums on full display. “I lied, too.” He untangled himself from you slowly and stood, squeezing your hand gently before letting go as he walked away.
You heard the hall closet open, and you laughed to yourself as you stood and joined him in the hall. You did a double take when you saw him standing there, holding a huge, square box wrapped ornately in shiny paper and a large ribbon. “Okay, what the fuck, Yoon?”
“What?” He raised an eyebrow in confusion, a small pout on his lips.
“That box is huge. What did you get me? A globe?”
Yoongi laughed, tucking the box under his arm. “Not a globe, no.”
You reached into the closet and pulled out a box of your own. It wasn’t nearly as large as Yoongi’s, and nowhere near as extravagantly decorated, but you had drawn Shooky in a Santa hat as the gift tag and you were pretty proud of that.
He followed you back to the living room, and you sat on the couch facing each other. He pulled out his phone and tapped a few times and your television switched from the paused end credits of Home Alone 2 to the image of a crackling fireplace, some instrumental Christmas song over a lo-fi beat playing through the speakers.
“Okay, seriously,” you said, trading boxes with him. “How in the world did you sneak this into the house? Six days ago you needed my help carrying anything heavier than a pillow.”
“I have my ways.”
“You had one of the guys bring it over while I was out, didn’t you?”
His lips flattened into a line and he nodded. “Taehyung brought it over while you were at the grocery store, yeah.”
“Tae help you wrap it, too?”
“He may have provided some assistance.”
You laughed. “Well tell him he did a good job. It’s very pretty.” You played with the ribbon on top absent-mindedly. “You want me to go first, or…?” Yoongi shrugged and gestured for you to go ahead, and you had to stop yourself from getting emotional at the sight of him shrugging with both shoulders.
You tore into the wrapping paper without abandon, tossing it onto the floor to be gathered up later. The box underneath was plain, no markings or brands or images on it to provide a hint at its contents. Carefully, you lifted off the lid, only to be met with more wrapping paper.
Your brow furrowed in confusion as you pulled the wrapped box out of the first. “Yoongi, darling, honey boy, love of my life?” He hummed, his eyes full of mirth and reflections of the lights on the tree. “Did you happen to hide my present in matryoshka boxes?” He raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘Yes. So?’ and you sighed. “And you say I’m the worst.”
Slowly, you make your way through the seemingly never-ending stack of boxes. No wonder the first box was so big. It contained approximately 15 other boxes inside of it, each smaller than the last and each wrapped in a different color. Just as you were starting to get sick of the game, you opened a box and it was tissue paper instead of another wrapped box.
“If this is a gift card, I’m killing you and then I’m breaking up with you,” you joked.
Yoongi looked mildly offended for a brief moment before nodding. “I think that’s fair.”
You paused, staring at the tissue paper before sighing and pushing it away. Truthfully, you were expecting another box, so when you saw the photo of Yoongi staring back at you, you were both a little relieved and severely disappointed. “Look how cute you are,” you cooed, trying–and failing, you knew–to sound like you appreciated it. “Is this from the new album? I like how they styled your hair.”
“I thought it would be the perfect size to keep on your desk in your office,” he said with a bright smile.
You laughed. “I work from home, honey boy.”
“I know. I just thought you’d like it.”
“It’s cute. Thank you.” You fought a sigh, picking up the box to move it aside. And then you saw the bump in the tissue paper. You crumpled up the rest of the paper, revealing a keyring with a key and a small plastic oval taped to the bottom of the box. “Yoon, what’s-”
“I’ve been putting off moving out of the dorms for a while now. But I was thinking that once things go back to normal, I would actually use my apartment.” Yoongi’s voice was soft, and while he was still smiling, he wouldn’t look you directly in the eye. If his eyes would wander into making eye contact with you, they would immediately dart away. “Not all at once. I think Jin would kill me if I moved out all of a sudden.” He reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours. His focus shifted to your hand, and he squeezed it gently as he spoke. “And I was thinking that maybe you could slowly move your stuff in, too. If you want to, that is.”
For a moment, you stared down at the key in shock. You hadn’t expected something so sentimental from Yoongi, and quite frankly the anger from all the boxes coupled with his gift had you feeling a bit of emotional whiplash.
“If you don’t want to…”
You looked up immediately at his tone. He sounded disappointed. “No!” you said quickly. “No, of course I’ll move in with you. I just… My gift for you feels horrendously inadequate now.” You could hear the tears in your voice, and you knew he did, too, because immediately, he scooted closer to you and reached for your hand.
“I’m sure it’s perfect.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb ghosting over your knuckles. “I would have asked you to move in sooner, but it was never the right time. Jin’s the one that suggested doing it at Christmas.”
“Were the boxes his idea, too?” You glanced at the now empty pile of boxes cluttering up your living room floor.
Yoongi smiled triumphantly, a wide gummy smile that you knew meant trouble. “No, that was all me, baby.” Chuckling and shaking your head, you handed him his present. His eyes fell to Santa Shooky and he cooed. “You drew this? It’s adorable. How do I get it off without ripping it?” You helped him carefully peel it off the box and put it on the coffee table for safekeeping before he tore into the paper.
The lid of the box clattered to the floor and Yoongi pulled out his gift: a hoodie. It was bleach-dyed black and just oversized enough for it to be cozy. On the front, it had the words ‘emotionally exhausted’ embroidered in fancy font. He laughed when he read it.
“I mean, it’s no key to my house,” you joked. “But you already have that, so…”
“I love it,” he said earnestly, already pulling it on over his head. He was able to slip his right arm into the sleeve just fine, but paused with his left. “Help.” He shot you the most pathetic look imaginable, complete with a full-on lower lip pout. You laughed, leaning forward to gently pull the sleeve onto his arm, careful not to jerk or twist his shoulder too suddenly. He grinned at you when it was on properly. “This is going to be my new napping hoodie. It’s so soft.” He put his hands in the kangaroo pocket and wiggled around a little in a happy dance.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Suddenly, he was reaching out and yanking you to him. He leaned back and fell against the couch so that he was laying down. You hovered over him, keeping yourself propped up on your elbows so you could look at him. He shrugged and hugged you tight enough so that you had no choice but to lay on top of him.
“What are you-?”
“We have to take the napping hoodie for a test drive.” One of his hands found yours, the other wrapped around your waist and rubbed small circles into your lower back. You shook your head and got comfortable on his chest knowing there was no point in arguing.
As you laid there listening to his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. It wasn’t exactly how you planned your first Christmas together, but in spite of everything, you didn’t think you’d change anything. You knew that, despite his gift, Yoongi wasn’t one for grand gestures–the small tree twinkling in the corner of your living room and the little bit of lights and tinsel you had hung around the doorways was enough. It was the feeling, after all, that made Christmas what it was, not the decorations. And you were certainly feeling merry and bright.
“Merry Christmas, jagi,” Yoongi mumbled into your hair. You could feel him fighting sleep just based on how much his breathing had evened out.
You leaned up and kissed his jaw before snuggling into his neck. “Merry Christmas, honey boy.”