Chapter Text
Jongho wasn’t usually very good at parties. He didn’t mind them – it could be fun watching everyone else get too drunk to keep themselves together, slurring inaccurate song lyrics like they were the next Beyonce and gyrating their hips in a way that looked more uncoordinated than sexy. Sometimes he would even join them in their journey to blackout intoxication, throwing back rum and cokes until Wooyoung inevitably dared him to do something stupid and he’d dumbly agree. It didn’t usually end well for them, but it was fun.
But, for the most part, parties were just a place where Jongho found a spot on the wall and took in the space around him – not really a part of anything but still there, coexisting. For the most part, he liked parties. He just didn’t think he was very good at being interesting at them.
Maybe that’s why, more often than not, he found himself on the outskirts of the party. He would show up with his friends – the ones who knew exactly how to be the center of every social gathering – and he’d grab a few drinks with them, chatting until they eventually dispersed to go do something cooler and more fun and hip (or whatever it was the actual party kids called it). Then he’d slink off to an empty bedroom or a hookup-free couch or the backyard, sitting back in a spot just a little quieter than the main house and listening to the sounds of the world being alive around him.
He knew if he ever told anyone that that’s what he did at every party his friends would give him that scrunched-nose-and-furrowed-eyebrows expression that told him immediately that they were worried he wasn’t having a good time. But he was, honestly. He kind of liked getting a little buzzed and warm and finding a place to sit by himself, to coexist around but not inside of the jumble and sway of bodies. He liked feeling both included and independent at the same time.
But, sometimes, other people managed to stumble across him in his tiny bubble, briefly bringing a bit of the party life back into his space. Sometimes they’d give him a quick head pat or a drink refill followed by a lopsided grin. Every once in a while, though, they stayed.
“What are you doing outside, Jongho? It’s fucking freezing,” a voice asked from behind him. Jongho was sitting in a lawn chair in the backyard, watching as drunk college kids stumbled around the yard looking for a place to sprawl out on the grass or take a piss in a bush. His thick bomber jacket was zipped up tight and snug, but his fingers felt numb from the cold December air. He looked up to find Yeosang staring at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly as he pulled his oversized fuzzy black and white coat tighter around him.
“Currently, I’m watching Changbin’s drunk ass yell for Yeonjun, who’s taking a piss over in the back corner of the yard,” Jongho said, tilting his head towards the darkened corner where Yeonjun was searching for a private place to relieve himself.
Yeosang grimaced, flopping down in the chair next to Jongho. “That was more than I needed to know.”
Jongho shrugged. “You asked,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Yeah, and I regret that,” Yeosang said. Jongho glanced over to see if there was any true regret in Yeosang’s expression, but the other boy had a small smirk playing across his lips as he leaned back in his chair, curling up to stave off the cold. They were silent for a moment, watching as people stumbled from the house and flowed around the yard like fish following a current, only to hurry back inside when even the alcohol couldn’t fight off the cold for too long. The silence wasn’t awkward – it was nice, content almost, and Jongho was reminded yet again how comfortable being around Yeosang was.
Jongho glanced over at the other boy, his mildly fuzzy brain taking note of how pretty Yeosang’s profile looked in the dim lighting crawling across the grass from the open back door. Jongho seemed to always realize how beautiful Yeosang was when they were in the same place – like his brain was constantly having a small epiphany whenever it was in the other boy’s presence.
Yeosang and Jongho flowed inside the same circles, like two koi fish swimming in the same pond, so they were constantly moving around each other every time their friends got together. They’d never really hung out independently – most of their interactions were built on being the more quiet, watchful participants in every social interaction. If their friend group got together for something more intimate and less overcrowded-and-obnoxious-college-party, Jongho and Yeosang were usually the ones sitting on the couch together, making small comments about the different interactions and gossiping about the way their friends acted when no one was looking. Jongho really liked talking to Yeosang – he was funny and smart and always knew exactly what to say to have Jongho doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach with tears in his eyes. And then he'd smile at Jongho with his eyes scrunched up and his gleaming white teeth showing, and Jongho’s heart would melt into a puddle inside his chest.
But for whatever reason, they’d never made a habit of meeting outside of their group. Jongho always kind of wished he could find a way to invite Yeosang out for dinner and a movie or to just play video games at his house, but every time he tried the words would get stuck inside his throat.
“You want to take him on a date,” San had said once, grinning gleefully as he glanced up from folding his clothes to raise an eyebrow at Jongho. “You want to date him so hard you’re physically choking on it.”
Jongo had felt the redness dyeing the tips of his ears. “I want to get to know him, Sannie – that doesn’t mean I want him to be my b-boyfriend,” Jongho had snapped back, his retort losing its heat as he stumbled over the last word.
San had rolled his eyes, looking back down at the t-shirt in his hands that Jongho was pretty sure belonged to Wooyoung. “Whatever you say, Jongie.”
Looking at Yeosang in the mix of fluorescent house lights and gray moonlight, Jongho understood how San could have come to that conclusion. Yeosang was so pretty it made Jongho’s chest hurt – anyone with two working eyes would want the chance to “date him so hard.”
“You’re staring,” Yeosang said, breaking Jongho’s stupor and quickly pulling him back to the real world. He turned away from the group of girls drunkenly yelling by the backdoor to smirk at Jongho. Jongho frowned, trying to find a way to salvage his pride and keep all the less-than-platonic thoughts from showing on his face.
“I’m trying to figure out your outfit – isn’t this a sexy Santa-themed party?” he asked, tilting his head as he looked appraisingly at Yeosang.
Yeosang nodded. “Yes, and this coat is super sexy. And functional for keeping away the freezing cold.”
“I was mainly referring to the hat,” Jongho said, raising an eyebrow at the item in question. Yeosang glanced up through his eyelashes as if he’d be able to see what Jongho was talking about. On top of his newly bleached blonde hair sat a bright green Christmas hat – the Santa-inspired kind with jingling bells and tinsel wrapped around the bottom. His ears stuck up cutely under the edges, and every time he tilted his head to the side Jongho heard the tiny twinkling sounds.
“Ahh, well you see,” Yeosang said, leaning towards Jongho conspiratorially. “I didn’t actually dress up because I think ‘sexy Santa’ sounds super lame, so Wooyoung stuck this on my head and told me that if I took it off, he’d challenge me to a game of beer pong and change all my drinks to tequila Red Bulls.” He shook his head, grimacing in disgust. “And I’m just really bad at beer pong.”
Jongho laughed. “Yeah, I’ve watched you play – Yunho fucking wiped the floor with you last time.”
Yeosang groaned, rubbing his temple with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t remind me – I couldn’t get out of bed for like two days after that experience.” He raised an eyebrow at Jongho, eyes flitting over the younger boy’s hat-free attire. “So how did you get past Wooyoung’s stringent costume-control? I see you’re pretty lacking in the sexy-Santa department.”
Jongho looked down at himself as if searching for a minimal amount of themed attire that he could use as a rebuttal. When he couldn’t find any, he simply looked at Yeosang and shrugged. “What I lack in costume I make up for in holiday spirit.”
Yeosang laughed, a deep giggle that made a shiver run down Jongho’s spine – from the cold. Obviously. “Ahh, I see. And here I thought you were wearing Christmas-themed lingerie under that high school-quarterback look you’ve got going on.”
Humming softly, Jongho shook his head with a smirk turning up the corner of his lips. “Well, I mean, that, too. Don’t ask me how I proved the lingerie to Wooyoung – it was too traumatic an experience to relive.”
Yeosang giggled again and Jongho felt his chest swell with pride at being able to make it happen. Like making Yeosang laugh was a high achievement, something impressive and weighty that he could write home about or add to his job resume. Other skills include breaking apples and making an angel giggle.
Jongho turned away from Yeosang, looking back towards the house and the areas where the party was spilling out into the yard. Changbin had finally found Yeonjun as he’d stumbled his way towards the back door – the two of them were now standing near a small flower pot that seemed to house a tiny dead bush, yelling over the music as they talked (or maybe just yelling – they were both pretty drunk and naturally loud). Jongho saw a small raven-haired boy poke his head out of the back door, searching the yard before his eyes finally landed on Changbin. Jongho didn’t talk much with Felix, not really, but he knew from Wooyoung that he and Changbin had been dating for over 9 months. If he wasn’t sure how well their relationship was going before, the way the boy’s face immediately lit up when he saw his boyfriend yelling across the yard told Jongho everything he needed to know. It was cute, the way he bounded out of the door quickly, taking long strides to throw his arms over his boyfriend’s shoulders and drape himself over his back. Changbin leaned into Felix’s embrace, turning his head while he continued to talk to Yeonjun to give the smaller boy a quick peck on the cheek. They only stayed in the yard for a few moments, the cold quickly slinking under their clothes and causing Felix to shiver against Changbin’s body. Changbin patted his arm, yell-whispering something into his ear that made him giggle, and the three boys made their way back into the house.
Once they’d left, Jongho turned back to Yeosang to see him doubled over, his upper body folded over his knees. Immediately, Jongho’s lungs hitched with worry. “Yeosang, are you oka –” he started to say, his sentence caught on his tongue as Yeosang glanced back up at him with clear, wide eyes.
Jongho glanced down at his lap, taking note of the small metal tin and the thin rolling paper twisted up and pinched between his fingers. “Are you rolling a joint?” Jongho asked, abandoning his concern for this new question.
Yeosang looked down at the joint in his hands, a lighter flickering between his fingers. He sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “To be fair, I rolled a joint – it’s already finished. See?”
“I can see that,” Jongho laughed, shaking his head at the semantics. A gust of cold December wind blew through the yard, causing a few stragglers near the door to yelp and scurry back inside. Jongho stuck his hands into his pockets, burrowing deeper into his jacket, and watched as Yeosang cocooned himself in the fuzzy fur coat, the tips of his hands sticking out of the sleeves like tiny paws. Tiny paws holding weed.
Yeosang lifted the joint to his mouth, burning the end and inhaling deeply. The smoke mixed with the cold cloud of his breath and dissipated into the dark night. Yeosang took another puff before raising an eyebrow at Jongho, holding out the joint. Jongho looked at it for a moment, contemplating the smoldering object, before reaching over to take it gingerly between his fingers.
He held it to his lips, breathing in the sticky, burning smoke and casting it back out into a smooth curl of air. He took another hit, shaping his mouth to form a tight “O” and watching a few rings escape into the night.
“Nice,” Yeosang said beside him, an impressed smile painted across his face as Jongho handed him back the joint. The younger boy laughed, leaning back in his chair and sinking into the warmth. The comfortable silence found them again, sitting contently as they passed the joint back and forth, taking turns hitting it and trying to form the perfect ring of smoke.
“So,” Yeosang said after a while, the joint now a nub that he stomped into the grass. He curled back into his seat, pulling his coat tighter around his body. “What are your Christmas plans, Jongie?”
Jongho tried not to let the way the cute nickname affected his heartbeat show on his face. “Um, I’ll probably just stay here actually – my parents had to leave town to go take care of my grandma. She fell a couple of weeks ago and broke her hip – she’s fine, don’t worry, but she still has some mobility problems and she needs some extra assistance.” Jongho shrugged, leaning his head back to look at the night sky saturated with stars. “I was going to go visit them there and help, but my mom said that I should find something more fun to do – she wanted me to go home with a friend or something. I didn’t want to bother anyone though, so I’m just going to order some pizza and play video games back at my place.”
Jongho wasn’t sad about his unexciting Christmas plans, not really – he knew his mom had good intentions when she told him that he shouldn’t spend his break cooped up in his grandma’s house helping his family. “We’ve got it covered here,” she’d said during their phone call the week before. “Go find a more exciting way to spend Christmas – maybe San or Wooyoung would let you join in on their plans?”
He’d agreed to talk to his friends if only to keep her from worrying, but he knew all his friends were going to visit their families for Christmas and he didn’t want to intrude on that. He was fine spending the break catching up on sleep and ranking up in League – he didn’t need anything more exciting or festive to fill his time.
Christmas was just another day of the year anyway. Who cares if he spent it the same way he spent every other weekday?
“You could come home with me,” Yeosang said.
Jongho turned his head to look at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”
Yeosang shrugged. “You could come with me. I’m going up to see my parents a few days before Christmas and then coming back for Wooyoung’s annual ‘Friend Christmas’ thing. You could come with me if you want. My sister won’t be going to see my parents until New Year’s this year, so my mom won’t mind if you use the guest room.”
Yeosang said all this the same way he’d invite Jongho for a coffee at the café on campus or to grab another drink from the kitchen – like it was a super easy, super simple invitation. An any-day-of-the-week thing. Meanwhile, Jongho couldn’t quite grasp how they could go from only talking in a group to “Come and meet my parents for Christmas.” He knew there wasn’t any more to it – that Yeosang didn’t experience the definitely-not-entirely-platonic feelings that swirled around Jongho’s stomach when they were together. But still, it felt more intimate and close than Jongho had grown to expect from their relationship, and it took him a moment of stunned silence to find the words to respond.
“I mean, um,” he started, berating himself internally for his less-than-genius wordplay. “Are you sure? I don’t want to, like, be in the way of a family Christmas or anything.”
Yeosang shook his head. “You won’t. My mom’s used to my friends popping in – Wooyong spent last Christmas at my place cause his parents went out of the country, and one time Mingi and Yunho came by for New Year’s because they tried some of the side dishes my mom sent me home with one weekend and needed to taste her cooking firsthand. So she won’t be surprised if you show up.” Yeosang snorted, his eyes finding Jongho’s as the moonlight twinkled in his gaze. “Honestly, I think she lives to be the ‘cool mom’ – it’s cute, so I try to give her opportunities to show off when I can.”
Jongho smiled, his body feeling warm and melty from the soft way Yeosang talked about his mom. “Yeah, okay – honestly, you had me at ‘side dishes’.”
Yeosang laughed, his eyes crinkling with the motion, and Jongho was once again filled with that shiver of pride that came with making a beautiful boy giggle. Another gust of wind cut into their moment, and Jongho watched Yeosang violently shiver, burrowing deeper into his coat with his feet in the chair. He looked like a tiny fuzzy ball, his head poking out of the top of his jacket with cheeks, ears, and nose tinted pink. Jongho stood up, arching his back and listening as his bones popped back into place. Tilting his head towards the back door, he said, “Come on, why don’t we go back inside and warm up? I need another drink anyway.” To emphasize his words, he picked his empty cup off the ground and wiggled it in front of Yeosang.
The smaller boy practically jumped out of his chair, stepping past Jongho quickly and barely waiting for him to catch up. “Oh thank god – I haven’t been able to feel my face for like twenty minutes.”
Jongho chuckled as Yeosang bounded towards the house, shaking his head as the other boy pushed his way through a pair of overly intoxicated girls trying to make out in front of the door. He smiled quietly to himself as they made their way back to their friends, Yeosang already getting to work mixing them new drinks as Wooyoung and San drunkenly giggled about an inside joke they were whispering to each other.
Jongho didn’t mind being on his own, he really didn’t. But, sometimes, it was nice when someone found him, and they could sit and watch the world together. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to be bad at parties if it meant he got to be bad at them with someone else.