Archive of Our Own ^beta

To: All

From: Choi Seungcheol

Subject: Holiday Party Meeting

Hi all,

Please make sure you are all in attendance for tomorrow’s floor meeting. We will be going over details for this year’s holiday party, including venue, activities, and a reminder on how we should be keeping up our workplace conduct, regardless if we are on company property or not. 

Any questions in the meantime can be directed to our competent HR department or you may swing by my office. My door is always open!

Thanks,

Choi Seungcheol

Office Manager

“Exciting, huh?”

Hansol nearly jumps out of his fucking skin, or at the very least, takes the paperweight on his desk and wields it in the direction that the mystery voice came from, because last he checked, he was alone in his cubicle, left to receive emails in peace, rather than have somebody over his shoulder to comment on it. He should’ve known better, though. Really. 

“Kwon Soonyoung,” he says as menacingly as he can, but Soonyoung is smiling when Hansol turns around in his chair, so Hansol guesses it doesn’t have that much of an effect on him. “You know I nearly put a staple through your neck? Don’t ever sneak up on me again.”

“HR violation,” Soonyoung says matter of factly, “you wouldn’t dare. Not before the holiday party, anyway. Don’t make me miss the party, Hansolie” 

“I might,” Hansol argues, just as Chan wanders in behind Soonyoung, who has Joshua behind him, and great, lovely, it’s not like he wanted to do any work right now or anything. He tells them this much and does not receive a very sympathetic response. 

“You had no work to do,” Chan points out, which Hansol kind of hates, but can’t argue. “I saw you ogling Seungkwannie hyung from across the room, anyway. I figured your poor eyes needed a break. His sweater is a really bright red this morning.”

“He’s festive,” Hansol argues, because he’s past the point of pretending like he wasn’t watching Seungkwan, thank you very much, and the red sweater is a very cute look for him. “I’m serious when I say it, don’t you guys have any real work to do?”

“Well, yeah,” Soonyoung admits. “But I need to stretch my legs every once and a while or I get the zoomies at home. Junnie hates it.”

“Right,” Chan points at him, like a grown man claiming the zoomies is something that happens every day, somewhere in the world. “And I have to come with him just in case the zoomies come early. Seungcheol told me.”

“None of that is factual,” Hansol says before he turns a little further to Joshua, who has made himself comfortable on the spare chair in the corner, looking far more interested in a stack of sticky notes rather than Soonyoung’s apparent zoomies. “Shua hyung?”

“I simply do not want to do work.”

“At least someone is honest.”

“Speaking of honesty,” Soonyoung says, reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper, “I need your opinion.” 

Hansol chances one last glance at Seungkwan from across the room—the red sweater actually is adorable, so like, fuck Chan—and turns towards Soonyoung with a huff, folding his hands across his lap. 

“For the last time, hyung,” he says, “I am not participating in you and Junnie’s sex toy survey—”

“It’s not for that!” Soonyoung defends himself, sniffing a little as he adds, “And for your information, the cockring won.”

Joshua boo’s from the corner, but Soonyoung just silences him with a hand, handing Hansol the piece of paper instead.

“List of ideas of what I should get Jun for Christmas. I’m taking suggestions from everyone in the office so do not try to get out of it. I even got Myungho to help!”

“And he suggested a vow of chastity,” Chan points out, to which Soonyoung dismisses with a wave of his hand. 

“This year marks our tenth Christmas together,” Soonyoung explains, animated, and Hansol honestly had no idea that they’ve been together that long, or how, but a part of him—the part not terrified by being alone in a room with them for fear they might do something indecent—is happy for them. “So I need to get him something that’s gonna woo the fuck out of him. So then I can hopefully fuck the woo out of him, you know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t,” Hansol says with a frown. 

“Do you think before you speak, Soonyoung-ah?” Joshua asks gently, but Soonyoung just shrugs, allowing Hansol to scan the growing list. 

“Vacation in Bora Bora, a Gucci belt, prostate massage?”

As if on cue, Seungcheol walks by Hansol’s cubicle, eyes narrowing at Hansol as he pauses, taking a single step inside. He’s got a huge cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. On top of it is a Christmas cookie, which Hansol knows he took from the breakroom where there is a large tin of them that Mngyu has been making like he’s on some sort of baking show. 

“No talking about prostate massages at work,” he says. He looks around the cubicle, eyes narrowing a little further when he notices everyone else in there. “Especially not in a group setting.”

“Would it help if the massage in question was happening outside of work?”

“No, I don’t think it would,” Seungcheol says. “I think that might make it worse, actually.”

“Bummer.”

“Just put a lid on it,” Seungcheol says with a huff, and then he seems to have had enough, turning around as he shoves the cookie in his mouth. He calls over his shoulder, “Joshua, you most definitely have a sales report to be doing, by the way!” 

Joshua just throws him a thumbs up that Seungcheol cannot see, but he makes no move to get up. Hansol looks back at the list and scans a few more ideas, one of which is a suggestion for a very elaborate bedroom roleplay that Hansol can recognize as Seokmin’s handwriting. 

“Anyway,” Soonyoung says like they weren’t literally just scolded for this entire interaction, “you are required to give me one idea. Or, if you really love me like Channie does, you may give me more.”

“I put the Gucci belt and twelve days of hot sauce,” Chan offers, receiving a very rewarding pat on the head from Soonyoung in response. 

“And those are both lovely ideas,” Hansol says, “but I have nothing to contribute. If it’s your ten years together, shouldn’t you know what to get him by now?”

“Don’t accuse me of being a bad boyfriend, of course, I know,” Soonyoung says, affronted, snatching the list from Hansol’s hands and holding it against his chest, protective. “It just doesn’t hurt to outsource some new ideas. I’m trying to keep the spark alive, Hansol-ah. What do you know about a spark, huh?”

“Don’t insult me,” Hansol says through a frown. “I’ve been dating Seungkwan for six whole months now! I know sparks!”

And he does, thank you very much, Kwon Soonyoung. Sure, he did spend a solid few months prior just silently watching Seungkwan from across the office, hiding behind cubicles and copy machines and friendly worded emails, but he has since crossed that bridge, stepped into an official relationship that has been very much HR approved (take that, Jeonghan and Joshua) and he is doing just peachy. He even has a list of his own ideas for what to get Seungkwan this Christmas. And it is absolutely going to blow Soonyoung’s metaphorical Gucci belt and Bora Bora vacation out of the water. 

“Honeymoon phase,” Soonyoung mumbles, reaching over to play with one of Hansol’s multicolor pens, simply so he can try and click all the tabs down at once, and consequently drive Hansol insane. “Let’s see your list then, hotshot.”

“Don’t call me that,” Hansol says, bitter, but he turns around to pull his list up anyway—organized very neatly in a spreadsheet because he sort of has time to kill—just in case Soonyoung has any pointers for him. 

Yes, Hansol will admit he and Junhui are a bit much, but they’ve also been dating for ten years; they have to be doing something right. 

“Read it and weep.” 

He gestures to his screen, sitting back in his chair a little as his coworkers gather around, scanning it over his shoulders. Hansol looks for Seungkwan across the room again and this time they make eye contact, Seungkwan giving him an adorably confused face most likely about all the nosy eyes peering over him, so Hansol just shrugs, a silent you know how it is, and Seungkwan winks at him before ducking back behind his computer screen. He’s so cute.

“This is kinda shitty,” Chan concludes, chronically single Chan, of all fucking people, and Hansol is simultaneously outraged and also embarrassed. 

“What?” Hansol cranes his neck to look up at him, deep frown on full display. “What do you mean shitty? What would you even know about Christmas?”

“Hey!” Chan looks offended. Good. “I’ve been celebrating it for almost twenty-five years now, I think I know enough.”

“I think what Channie means is just that it’s not…” Joshua trails off, tapping at his chin like he’s truly in thought. “Not personal? Yeah. That’s it. Not personal.”

“It’s plenty personal!” Hansol argues. “It’s all stuff he likes!” 

“A mug,” Joshua reads. “Hansol-ah, you didn’t even specify what kind of mug.” 

“A cute one!”

“Cat desk calendar, running sneakers, fancy shampoo,” Soonyoung continues. “Yeah, these are bad.” 

“Says the man who wants to gift his boyfriend a prostate massage.”

“I’d rather the massage than a desk calendar,” Joshua says, and once again someone else is suddenly sticking their head in Hansol’s cubicle. 

“Absolutely noted, Shua.”

Joshua turns around to face the voice, eyes monetarily lighting up with something either akin to rage or a disgusting attraction that Hansol wants no part of. 

“Yoon Jeonghan, you told me you were doing our sales reports—!”

“I’m leaving!” Jeonghan calls, and then he really is gone, which is confirmed when Minghao is heard down the hallway, complaining about whatever it is Jeonghan has decided to torture that side of the office with today. 

Silent for a beat.

“So how’s that going?” Chan asks, annoying, wiggling his eyes suggestively and Joshua just glares, forcing Chan to quickly secede. “Never mind.”

“Anyway,” Soonyoung says, dragging out the syllables, “you can’t give these to Seungkwan. That’s like asking for him to dump you.”

“I thought they were good!” Hansol is getting defensive because his only other option is a paranoid breakdown. He really did think they were good. He even researched the best assortment of cat photos for the desk calendar. He put it in a spreadsheet! “Seungkwannie doesn’t even like physical gifts all that much, anyway. He told me that himself!”

“He’s lying to you,” Soonyoung says with a scoff. “It’s like when Jihoonie says he doesn’t want to be included on the exclusive 1996-born employee email thread. Every time we take him off he asks Wonwoo what we’re giggling about and wants to be readded.”

“Not the same at all, actually,” Hansol says, but then Joshua reaches over his shoulder, selecting the entirety of Hansol’s spreadsheet and pressing delete on the keyboard. Hansol gasps. “Hyung!”

“Hansol!” Joshua mimics him. 

“This is for your own good,” Soonyoung says, just about as serious as Hansol has ever seen him, spinning Hansol around in his chair and holding him by both shoulders. “You need to regroup and revisit the drawing board. Think of what Seungkwannie deserves! Tube socks or a romantic getaway to a Sandals resort?”

“Tube socks weren’t on the list,” is all Hansol can say, because he’s feeling a bit downtrodden, a bit like an idiot, and now he only has roughly two weeks to try and fix it. He should call his sister for help. Or maybe just try and hack into Seungkwan’s Amazon account and see his wishlist. 

“It’s your first Christmas, Sol-ah,” Soonyoung says carefully, giving him a vaguely comforting pat on the shoulder. “You wanna make it memorable, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hansol mumbles out in agreement, his newly empty spreadsheet just staring at him, mocking him. “I guess Seungkwannie deserves something more than a mug.”

“Of course he does,” Joshua says encouragingly. Hansol still feels like shriveling up and dying, though, or maybe at least just hiding underneath his desk until New Year's. 

“Ok.” Hansol shifts his eyes to the door. “Please get out now. You have all overstayed your welcome.”

“Fair,” Soonyoung agrees, taking Chan’s hand to drag him out, and attempting to take Joshua’s who holds one of Hansol’s good highlighters instead, stealing it. Hansol doesn’t even argue. “You didn’t give me an idea for Moon Jun, though. I expect your contribution on my desk by Friday!”

Hansol rolls his eyes. He’s not sure Soonyoung even wants his ideas.

* * *

HOLI-SLAY PARTY is reported proudly on the flat screen at the front of the room, a festive PowerPoint ready to be displayed to the team. He thinks Mingyu might’ve made the PowerPoint; ‘holi-slay’ just seems too cheesy for Seungkwan to have said, or at least that’s what Hansol hopes. 

“Ugh,” Seungkwan huffs when he makes his way into the conference room, balancing an iced americano in one hand and a clipboard in the other, a red and a black pen attached at the top because he’s organized like that. “I told him not to write holi-slay. Kim Mingyu, why did you write holi-slay?”

“It’s called capturing your audience’s attention!” Mingyu insists, and Hansol is just thankful this really wasn’t Seungkwan’s idea. He’s perfect.

“My attention will only be captured once they get here with the donuts,” Wonwoo says, morose. “Where the fuck are the donuts?”

Any actual intel as to where the donuts may be is lost to Hansol as Seungkwan comes to sit next to him, warm smile on his face and a pretty gleam in his eyes, visible even in the heinous office lighting. 

“Hey, you,” Seungkwan greets him, setting his stuff out, neat rows of notes from previous meetings laid out in front of him among the notes he needs to get through this one. Hansol had no idea that organization could be such a turn-on for him, but Seungkwan is just full of surprises. 

“Hey,” Hansol greets back, smiling, scooting over a little to make room for more of Seungkwan’s— stuff. Hansol only came with himself and a cup full of chocolate milk. He would feel embarrassed if not for the way he’s almost positive the IT department doesn’t even need to be here. “You look cute today. I was going to tell you that via email, but then I got scared that Seungcheol hyung was monitoring them again so I figured I better wait.”

“You’re very sweet to me,” Seungkwan says, reaching out to pinch at Hansol’s thigh underneath the table, out of anyone’s line of sight because yes, they’re dating, but no, they don’t need to make a big deal of it, especially in the office. “And between you and me, I think Seungcheolie stopped. Soonyoung and Junnie have developed some sort of code that they use so they can’t get busted anymore. He gave up.”

“How honorable of him,” Hansol says. Then, “We should come up with a code, too. That’s pretty smart of them.”

“Right?” Seungkwan sounds genuinely impressed. “So like, for example, I could email you and say that I’m having an issue with my computer not connecting to the hard drive, and that would mean that I really just want you to bend me over a desk.”

“Seungkwan-ah!” Hansol whisper-yells because he’s not trying to draw attention to them, but he is like, definitely interested in diving more into this secret code, and hopefully actually using it. 

“It was just an example, Hansolie,” Seungkwan says, coy, like Hansol won’t literally turn over and die right here. “There are plenty of other things we could do if you wanted.”

Seungkwan, Hansol is learning, is sort of a menace. He’s like, ninety percent sure that if he didn’t take his job as seriously as he does, or maybe if he wasn’t in HR, he would’ve tried to jump Hansol’s bones in his cubicle right over some new hire reports. Or at the very least, like, on his lunch break. 

“I’m thinking of at least four things,” Hansol says stupidly, which makes Seungkwan laugh, a lovely sound that Hansol has grown very attached to in the last few months. 

“Yeah?” Seungkwan quirks a brow, and oh, Hansol has to definitely think of some financial reports or something because this is quickly turning into something not safe for work. Thankfully, though, or un-thankfully depending on how you look at it, Seungkwan just says, voice still the kind of voice he only ever uses when he’s squashed underneath Hansol on the nearest flat surface, “Tell me about it when I see you later then.”

Hansol opens his mouth to respond, most likely some sort of distressed plea, but the sound gets lost under the newest commotion: Junhui carrying their usual two dozen donuts in one hand and Soonyoung’s hand in the other. 

“Holiday donuts are officially here,” he says, very proudly. “I even paid extra to get a box with the commemorative, festive ornaments on top, so if the accountants come asking why there was a price rise, I’m going to need you all to cover for me.”

Jihoon opens the box with a pep in his step, frowning when he faces the assortment. “Jun-ah,” he says, “the ornaments aren’t even legitimately festive. They’re just—balls that literally say ‘festive’ on them.”

“What?” Junhui peeks into the box, struggling to open it more with Soonyoung still holding his hand. “Goddammit. They didn’t have to be so literal about it.”

“I like them, Moon Jun,” Jeonghan says, picking one off, and holding it up to the light. “Very meta.” 

“You had the holiday spirit, honey,” Soonyoung tells him, releasing his hand only to bring both of his own to Junhui’s face, squishing his cheeks together. Junhui does not resist it. “That’s all that matters!”

“Soonyoung-ssi, please let go of your coworker’s face,” Seungcheol says as he enters, dropping all his usual stuff in the middle of the table, waving his hands in Soonyoung and Junhui’s direction to get them to separate. 

“Coworker is a funny way to put it,” Seokmin mumbles. “I saw them making out in their car this morning before they came in.”

“You can be coworkers and lovers, the words are not mutually exclusive,” Soonyoung says, however dropping his hands, folding them behind his back instead. He peers over Junhui to look over his shoulder, “Right Shua hyung? Jeonghannie?” 

“I could hurt you if I wanted,” Jeonghan says, not even bothering to look up from where he’s collecting the ornaments from the donuts, hanging them off various buttons and zippers on his outfit. Behind him, seated next to Minghao, Joshua chokes out a laugh. 

“Hyung?!” Soonyoung frowns, but Junhui is already placating him, a soothing pat on his head. 

“The better comparison would’ve been Hansolie and Seungkwan,” he says, which Hansol momentarily hates, but he can’t really because he likes hearing the reminder sometimes— he’s dating Seungkwan. 

“Actually, no,” Seungkwan says, “I don’t think Hansolie and I could be compared to you two ever.”

“Aw, Seungkwan-ah,” Soonyoung says. “I’m flattered.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.” 

“Are we here to discuss the complex relationships of employees or are we here to plan a goddamn holiday party?” Minghao asks, obviously irritated, wiping the icing from his donut on the meeting itinerary Mingyu gave them, to which Mingyu mildly protests before clapping his hands, and forcing a smile. 

“That we are, Myungho-yah!” He stands, gesturing to the PowerPoint still at the front of the room, and then looks at Seungcheol. “Hyung? Anything to note before we start?”

“Not really,” Seungcheol says. Everyone finally takes their usual seats around the room, letting Seungcheol have the floor. “Sales are good, budgeting is fine. Or well, it was before Jun went and bought those ‘festive’ donuts—”

“I was trying to bring joy and the magic of the season to everyone’s day, so forgive me—”

“—I honestly have no complaints this week. Except, Wonwoo-yah, you need to stop sending chain emails to Seokminie.”

“He likes them,” Wonwoo says, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a bite from a regular vanilla cream.

“I don’t,” Seokmin argues. “I never even understand them. I needed Channie to translate it for me this morning.”

Jeonghan looks over Seokmin to Chan, inquisitive. “What’d it say?”

Chan clears his throat, reciting, “Calling all of Santa’s ho, ho, hoes—”

“Not workplace appropriate,” Seungcheol cuts him off, waving a threatening finger in his direction. Chan looks like a dejected puppy. “I’m done here. Mingyu, Seungkwan. Please take it away.” 

Seungkwan gives one more discreet squeeze to Hansol’s thigh under the table, something Hansol doesn’t think he’ll ever really get used to, and then he’s up next to Mingyu, HOLI-SLAY right behind them. It gets worse the more Hansol looks at it. 

“It is now the moment you guys have been waiting all year for,” Mingyu says, a gigantic smile on his perfect face, holding a clipboard with so much vigor Hansol thinks he might break it. “Drum roll, please, everyone.”

“There is no reason to drum roll, we all know why we’re here—” Jihoon starts to argue, but the complaints get lost under the sound of a few excited, off-beat drum rolls, and thus, Mingyu is satisfied. 

“Holiday party planning, baby!” he says with jazz hands, stepping to the side as Seungkwan changes the slide, a picture of Seungcheol’s head photoshopped on Santa now blown up behind them.

“I didn’t approve that,” Seungcheol says, but Mingyu and Seungkwan pay him no mind, quickly moving on.

“As you guys know,” Seungkwan starts, and ugh, Hansol loves when Seungkwan gets to talk at these, “corporate cut the spending for the holiday party this year because you guys got a little too, uh, excessive in the last few years.”

“If a functional ice sculpture of a nutcracker is considered excessive, then, yeah, whatever, guilty, I guess,” Joshua says with a shrug, rolling his eyes a little. Hansol stifles a laugh. 

“That shit was so cool,” Chan marvels, as Jeonghan agrees, “Yeah. I took it home afterward.”

“Anyway,” Seungkwan says slowly, “we’re gonna have to scale down. We can still have it out, just not at the literal wedding venues you guys have been having it at for the last few years.” 

“Oh, come on!” Soonyoung whines. “Me and Junnie have been using these parties as a way to try them all out for when we finally tie the knot! What are we supposed to do now?”

“Wait until you’re actually getting married and look at them like normal people?” Wonwoo suggests and Soonyoung does not seem to appreciate it. 

“We chose a restaurant downtown,” Mingyu explains, gesturing at Sengkwan who changes the slide again, a picture of the place’s interior pasted on it. “It’s got a nice back room for private parties and the food is good.” 

Minghao raises his hand. 

“Yes, it will be an open bar,” Mingyu says and Minghao lowers his hand. 

“I guess this is a good time to segway into the pamphlet corporate asked me to read to you guys about off-ground workplace behavior,” Seungcheol says begrudgingly. He looks to Seungkwan and Mingyu. “Unless one of my lovely HR employees would like to.”

“No, thank you,” Seungkwan says primly. “I already told off Joshua and Jeonghannie hyung once today, I don’t really wanna do it again.”

“I will reiterate,” Joshua says, “we were just standing at the copy machine together. I was yelling at him because of his paper usage!”

“Got me all hot and bothered, too,” Jeonghan says, just to be annoying, and it has the desired effect, Joshua shooting a glare in Jeonghan’s direction before he slumps further into his chair. 

“Great, thank you for sharing, Jeonghan-ssi,” Seungcheol says, holding the pamphlet up now and waving it in the air. “Now seriously—listen up. We are one more rogue holiday party away from corporate banning all of them.”

“Who’s snitching on us, anyway?” Chan asks, gaze shifting around the room. “My money is on Wonu hyung.”

“I couldn't care less about you people if I tried.”

“Nobody’s snitching, per se,” Mingyu says, “we’re just required to send an itemized bill of the spending for each year. And last year it included a lot of vodka and for some reason, the penis straws that Joshua insisted on buying.”

“I didn’t think you would actually buy them—“

“Ok, so no penis straws, no vodka, and no stripping for fun, got it,” Minghao says, counting off on his fingers as he does. “Should we just all gather to watch paint dry this year?”

“Myungho-yah, so testy today,” Junhui teases, leaning into Minghao’s space, who looks less than enthused about it. “Also—who said anything about no stripping? Asking for Soonyoungie.”

“The pamphlet, Jun-ah,” Seungcheol says, a little desperate, and Junhui nods, giving him a thumbs up and sitting back in his seat. A silent proceed. 

Seungcheol does not. Instead, he pinches at the bridge of his nose—a usual Seungcheol pose—and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He points the pamphlet in Hansol and Wonwoo’s direction and sighs. 

“Scan this in and send it to everyone,” he instructs. “I cannot sit in front of you people anymore.”

“Aw, hyung.” Hansol holds a hand over his heart, graciously accepting the pamphlet that Seungcheol hands him. He briefly flips through it. “Wait a minute. This was literally made specifically for our floor.”

“Consider it a warning, I guess.” Seungcheol shrugs, uncaring otherwise. Hansol has no idea if he admires him or not. 

“Moving on?” Seungkwan suggests, and Seungcheol just waves a hand, sitting back in his seat, and grabbing a donut. Jeonghan takes the ornament off the top and leans over to hang it on Joshua’s ear, who does not flinch. 

Slide change. This time, it’s Seungcheol as Santa but on a beach, in a speedo. 

“Dress code!” Mingyu reads, and Seungcheol erupts in another claim of I did not approve that!, which forces Hansol to stifle another laugh, this time making eye contact with Seungkwan at the front of the room, who looks like he’s holding back a laugh of his own. 

He winks. Hansol is all warm inside. 

* * *

Hansol is, actually, warm all over now; just a price you pay when you have Boo Seungkwan on top of you, around you, all over you, something Hansol is only recently privy to, but is quickly getting spoiled with. 

In the past, his idea of fun after work was to maybe grab dinner with Chan and Joshua, or go to the grocery store, or on the rare occasion, put on a movie from his long, to-watch list and pass out with some convenience store wine. Now, fun after work means dinner with Seungkwan, or a movie with Seungkwan, or anything with Seungkwan, which includes being in his bed, breathless and sweaty. 

“You’re amazing,” Hansol says, as honest as he can convey, not even daring to take his eyes off Seungkwan for even a second as Seungkwan rolls over, catching his breath as he tries to worm his way back under the covers, concealing his naked body.

Hansol sort of wishes he wouldn’t—Seungkwan naked is one of the seven wonders of the world, probably—but it is December, and the heating in Seungkwan’s apartment is a little unreliable, so he understands. 

“Seriously, just—really amazing,” Hansol adds. Seungkwan looks at him from the corner of his eyes and scoffs. “I wish I had other adjectives for you, but I get kinda dick stupid around you, so.”

“Charming,” Seungkwan says, sarcastic, though amused. He somehow garners enough energy to roll back over, pressing chaste lips to Hansol’s cheek. “You’re equally amazing, Chwe Hansol.” 

Hansol wiggles over into Seungkwan’s space more, pulling him as close as he can before Seungkwan realizes they’re actually both in dire need of a shower and forces them up. Seungkwan is pretty cuddly after sex, but he is still Seungkwan—a bit type A and very much not into sitting around and letting cum dry, which is fine, Hansol isn’t either, but sometimes, his limbs need to regain momentum before he moves. This time, thankfully, Seungkwan seems to agree.

“I sort of really needed that today,” he says, patting Hansol’s chest half-heartedly, huffing out a sigh. “Not to bring up work—”

“Oh, no.”

“Shut up, I’m allowed one work complaint per week, let me have this,” Seungkwan says, reaching his hand to tug at Hansol’s ear, which sort of hurts more than expected. 

“You wanna use it now, though?” Hansol asks. “It’s only Tuesday.”

“I was hoping that you fucked all the work tension from my body, so I’m not as annoyed about everything later this week, so my complaint now was warranted. Did you let me down, Hansolie?”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Hansol jokes. “Had I known the goal was to rid the entire week’s tension, I would’ve done better.”

“You’re telling me you don’t put your all into it every time?” Seungkwan feigns offense, scoffing. He sits up, all shocked, and Hansol tugs him back down. “Hansol-ssi, I am appalled. I am upset—”

“It’s harder for me when you ride me,” Hansol defends himself, the god-honest truth. “I told you, I get dick stupid.”

“You know, the more you say it, the more endearing it gets.”

“Really?” Hansol tilts his head. “In that case—”

“Hansol.” Seungkwan is using his stern voice now. Hansol pretends he’s not turned on as he makes a show of zipping the imaginary zipper on his lips, throwing the hypothetical key across the room. “Good boy.”

Hansol sort of preens. 

“Anyway,” Seungkwan continues, “this fucking holiday party is gonna kill me.” 

“Seriously?” Hansol can’t help but laugh a little, arms already open for when Seungkwan falls back into them, face hiding where Hansol’s neck meets his shoulder. He groans, the vibration of it sort of tickling Hansol in the process. “That’s what you’re stressed about? As long as it has alcohol and like, a surface that Soonyoung hyung and Channie can stand on to dance, I don’t think much else matters.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” Seungkwan says. He’s pouting; Hansol can’t see him still from where he’s pressed against his skin, but he can tell just by the way Seungkwan says it. “You guys look forward to this all year. And it’s my first one! And now if I come in and ruin it—”

“Seungkwan-ah, please,” Hansol says gently, rubbing soothing circles to his back, “you couldn’t ruin anything if you tried. Also, you have Mingyu hyung helping you. Let him do all the actual planning!”

“You know I can’t do that to him,” Seungkwan says, and yes, unfortunately, Hansol does know. Again, too type A. “I just don’t want everyone to hate me. Mingyu can take it, you guys love to hate him, but everyone else only just started seeing me as a friend and not just some stuffy HR employee. Like, Channie only just told me he was briefly TikTok famous! I can’t revoke that trust with a subpar holiday party.”

“It won’t be subpar,” Hansol urges. “Also—Chan’s TikTok fame was hilarious. Lesbians were very into him for some reason.”

“And good for him!” Hansol nods in agreement, and then Seungkwan turns much more serious. “I just—don’t wanna let anyone down.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hansol says. He squeezes Seungkwan a little tighter in a hug, Seungkwan making a mild noise of protest. “Boo Seungkwan, you are going to knock all other holiday parties out of the fucking water. This is going to be the greatest party I ever attend. It will outdo my future wedding.”

“Don’t be that dramatic,” Seungkwan says with a laugh. “You guys got the Young Tak to perform one year. My mom loves him! How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“Yeah, I still don’t know how Jeonghannie managed that, but I honestly was a little afraid to ask,” Hansol says, shrugging. He still has a video somewhere on his phone of Seokmin doing an impressive choreography to one of his songs. “You’re gonna do great, though. Young Tak or not. Seriously, ok?”

“If you say so,” Seungkwan says, huffs a little, and then finally lifts his head, and Hansol feels a little less warm, but Seungkwan smiles, a tiny thing, and leans in to kiss his lips, just once. Hansol really likes him. It’s sort of embarrassing. “If there’s one thing I am confident in, though, it’s that you’ll like the gift I got you. It’s good.”

Hansol feels his stomach twist; he has yet to add anything to his new Seungkwan Christmas Gift Spreadsheet, not since Joshua rudely (and rightly) deleted all of his previous ideas yesterday. He feels like a bad boyfriend, an awful one, and here Seungkwan is—thoughtful, wildly intelligent, diligent Seungkwan—who already has his gift picked out and purchased, and is excited to give it to him. Hansol does not deserve him.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” Hansol whines instead. “You’re dating me, that's enough of a gift.”

“Don’t be annoying,” Seungkwan chastises, reaching out to flick at his forehead. It has a surprisingly large amount of force to it. “Of course, I got you something. You deserve so many gifts.” 

Seungkwan scoots even closer and kisses him again. He’s so soft and inviting and Hansol hasn’t gotten him anything and now he could cry about it. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles, and honestly, before Seungkwan no one’s ever really called Hansol that, but now Seungkwan does all the time, and it’s just another thing to add to the list of reasons why Hansol is the worst boyfriend ever. 

“Fine,” Hansol mumbles, giving Seungkwan another kiss because he can. They really do need to shower soon, but this is more important. He makes a weak attempt, “Give me a hint as to what you got me. So that way we don’t get the same thing for each other.” 

Seungkwan laughs, wiggling out of Hansol’s space again as he shakes his head. 

“No way,” he says. “And wouldn’t it be cute if we did get each other the same gift, anyway?”

“I guess so,” Hansol admits. “Myungho might make fun of us, though.” 

“Let him,” Seungkwan says with a shrug. Then, sweeter, “And you know you don’t have to get me anything out of this world. Or anything at all, for that matter. I am just happy you put up with me. You’re good at being somebody’s boyfriend, Chwe Hansol.”

“No, I’m good at being yours,” Hansol corrects. “And it’s not even a question; I will be getting you the gift of all gifts. Look out, Seungkwan-ah.”

Seungkwan laughs, pulling them both to his feet, finally at the insistence of a much-needed shower. 

If only he knew about that blank spreadsheet on his computer. 

* * *

Wonwoo and Junhui have been arguing for the past nine minutes.

Usually, Hansol is good at minding his business at work, even when it has to do with Wonwoo, whose separation from him is simply a thin cubicle wall, and maybe some headphones on the days Hansol isn't in the mood. He should have opted for the headphones today, though, because Wonwoo and Junhui are both stubborn, and both of them are very fast workers, which means they probably have nothing else to do today but sit around and verbally fight each other. 

“It is a simple mall trip,” Junhui is saying, annunciating every syllable like Wonwoo can’t understand him. He can understand him, though, which Hansol knows because they’re speaking the same language and Wonwoo has refuted this statement each time he has repeated it with the same answer every time—

“I do not need to be there when you buy Soonyoungie something gross!” 

Junhui huffs now, and before he can launch into yet another monologue about how there is nothing gross about two men in love, deciding to celebrate said love, Hansol forces himself out of his chair, peering over the cubicle wall to look at the two of them. He clears his throat.

“Oh, hey, Hansol-ah,” Junhui greets him with a smile like he hasn’t just been here berating Wonwoo. “Busy over there?”

“I could be,” Hansol says. “If you two could stop—arguing like you’re getting paid for it.”

“Oh, that.” Junhui waves a hand. Pulls a face. “Wonu started it.”

“I did not,” Wonwoo says, petulant. “He wants me to go with him to buy Soonyoung like—a dildo.”

“No, I don’t!” Junhui disputes again, and Hansol does a quick look around to make sure Seungcheol isn’t near for a lesson on inappropriate workplace dildo talk, sighing out relief when he doesn’t spot him anywhere. “I have a very wholesome gift in mind, thank you very much. And besides, we have like, too many dildos, anyway.”

“Can you guys stop yelling?” Hansol frowns. He rounds the corner of their cubicles, now on the other side at the entrance of Wonwoo’s, and pauses. “Are you going Christmas shopping?”

“Sure am,” Junhui confirms. “Christmas is only like, ten days away. I’m running out of time.”

“You have time when you get home, where you don’t need to bother me,” Wonwoo points out. 

“Except I don’t.” Oh, good, they’re arguing again. “Because I’m always with Soonyoung. And I can’t even order anything because Soonyoung opens all my mail. He’s obsessed with opening packages. One time he made us stop at Jihoonie’s on the way home from work so he could open his.”

“That’s—really odd.”

“No, it’s not, it’s cute,” Junhui says quickly. “But not when I need to surprise him with a gift that’ll knock his socks off. That’s why I’m going brick and mortar, baby.”

“Not with me,” Wonwoo says with a shrug, a sense of finality. “Ask Mingyu. He likes the mall. Get him a smoothie. Let him stretch his annoyingly long limbs.”

“I’ll go with you,” Hansol finds himself saying, which isn’t really a choice he wants to make, but he still doesn’t have anything for Seungkwan, and he couldn’t find anything good enough while online shopping today, and Junhui is right; there’s only a little over ten days left. His options are running out. 

“Why would you wanna do that?” Wonwoo asks just at the same time that Junhui lets out a loud whoop, catching the attention of Seokmin who strolls by Wonwoo’s cubicle, a snack from the vending machine in his hand. Thankfully, he does not stop. 

“I need something for Seungkwannie,” Hansol explains carefully, keeping his voice down just in case he could be listening even though Hansol knows for a fact he isn’t; he can see him from across the room, sitting pretty in his cubicle, phone pressed to his ear. “And I’m kinda—desperate.”

“Desperate?” Wonwoo raises a brow, taking a sip of the energy drink he has and grimacing a little at its sweet taste. “How bad are you at giving gifts? How hard could it be?”

“Apparently, I’m very bad,” Hansol says defensively. “I had a whole spreadsheet of ideas and then everyone deleted it and shamed me. Your boyfriend included.” 

“Soonyoungie can be harsh sometimes,” Junhui mumbles regrettably. “Doesn’t help that he’s an amazing gift giver himself.”

“I saw his list of ideas for you for this year,” Wonwoo says. “Amazing is not a word that comes to mind.”

“You’re jealous,” Junhui says and rolls his eyes. He looks at Hansol now, smiling again. “We can go at lunch. I’ll drive.”

“If only you had decided this ten minutes ago,” Wonwoo says. “You could’ve saved me the headache.”

“Do any of you know who did this?” 

It’s Joshua now, appearing behind Hansol in a flustered movement, holding up a pack of gum, decorated with Christmas stickers. 

“My headache is worse now,” Wonwoo says, but Joshua doesn’t get to scold him for it, Junhui reaching out for the gum instead. 

“What the fuck is this?” he turns it over in his hands. “I was shit at English in school. Hansol-ah, what’s it say?”

“Cinnamon,” Hansol translates it for him, handing the packet back to a still frazzled Joshua. “It’s cinnamon gum, hyung.”

“No shit,” Joshua says through a frown, which Hansol doesn’t seem to appreciate, but he guesses he’s not the one seemingly having an existential crisis over candy, so fine. “They only make it in America, though. It was my favorite gum.”

“How’d it get here?” Junhui asks, genuinely curious, to which Joshua just frowns even deeper. 

“That’s why I’m asking. I went to talk to Seungcheolie and when I came back, it was shoved under my keyboard.” Joshua has a crazy look in his eye. Hansol has never seen him so fired up. “And, the other day, I came into work and my favorite breakfast pastry from the bakery across town was just—sitting there. Who is doing this to me?”

“Blessing you with random acts of kindness?” Junhui asks, eyebrows knit together. “Gee, I don’t know, hyung. What a nasty thing to happen to you.”

“I think you’re missing the obvious option here,” Wonwoo says, snickering. “Jeonghannie hyung?”

Joshua scoffs, rolling his eyes. “As if. Jeonghan doesn’t even know like, my last name. No way he knows what gum I enjoyed in high school and my favorite pastry. Or where to get it. Or have any motivation as to why he’d get it.”

“Maybe he… oh, I don’t know, hyung,” Hansol says, “likes you?”

Joshua chucks a piece of gum at Hansol’s head, barely giving him any reaction time as he bends down to pick it up, slipping it back into the packet. He’s made absolutely no changes in his expression and Hansol is mildly terrified.

“What’s wrong with you?” Joshua asks. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Hansol asks back. “What happened between you guys after you—violated my desk.”

Joshua groans, craning his neck to look around for any sign of Yoon Jeonghan, and then ducks back down when he deems it clear. 

“So I sucked his dick here—”

“We got that part, we hated it, too—”

“Let me finish,” Joshua scolds him. “Then I went over to his place and we slept together. He has a lot of collectible figurines in his apartment, by the way.”

“What kind?”

“Little woodland creatures.”

Junhui whistles. “And you still finished?”

“Twice,” Joshua says, eyes all big like he can’t believe it. He shakes his head. “Anyway. After that, I realized that sex makes things weird, and Jeonghannie was already weird, so we should probably stop. But now he’s—incessant and annoying. Even more so than he already was.”

“Incessant and annoying like—?” Wonwoo raises a brow. 

“Like he’s always—being nice to me. And flirting. And saying stupid shit about taking me out for real.”

“And you think… he doesn’t… like you?” 

“He doesn’t,” Joshua says, and Hansol has no idea if he’s just being dense on purpose or he’s just plain dumb. At least he never pined after Seungkwan like that. “I’m leaving if none of you know where this came from.”

He’s standing up very straight now, holding the gum in his hand like it’s going to self-destruct. The rest of them just stare at him, unmoving, and when Jihoon walks by Wonwoo’s cubicle, Joshua chases him out, interrogating him with twenty questions about the gum that Jihoon has absolutely no answers to. 

“So lunch?” Junhui suggests, seemingly over Joshua’s outburst, gum and Yoon Jeonghan already forgotten. 

“Lunch,” Hansol confirms. He’ll need to revisit the idea bank, ASAP. 

* * *

In a surprising turn of events, Junhui’s gift for Soonyoung is very sweet. 

Hansol doesn’t know all the details of it; Junhui is open about things nobody wants to know—like when he’s bottoming for Soonyoung—but he’s fairly reserved when it comes to actual, romantic details in their life. That means he told Hansol he got him some sort of ring, and it has something engraved in it, and overall it’s ‘very gay and Myungho would make fun of him for it.’

Still, it’s sweet, and still, Hansol has absolutely nothing for Seungkwan. He’s starting to freak out about it.

“It’s nothing to freak out about,” Junhui says with a shrug, the two of them enjoying a good mall pretzel, just enough time to kill before they have to start heading back to the office. “Seungkwannie really likes you. You could get him anything!”

“Except, I can’t,” Hansol bemoans. He takes a bite of his pretzel and it tastes like defeat. “Every idea I come up with, I overthink and then hate. He deserves everything, but everything I add to my cart for him isn’t enough. It’s an endless, vicious cycle, hyung. He’s going to break up with me by the new year, probably.” 

“Don’t say that, what’s wrong with you?” Junhui says, appalled. Hansol wants to tell him that everything is wrong with him, but then Junhui is speaking again, so he doesn’t. “Maybe you’re thinking too hard. Maybe something tangible isn’t even what you need to get him.”

Hansol frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Means maybe you should just—let him unwrap you or something.” Junhui shrugs. “Think about it, you already know he likes you naked.”

“Hyung!” Hansol says, a bit accusatory, but Junhui is guileless, shrugging as he takes another bite of his pretzel.

“Or he doesn’t?” Junhui tries. “Work with me here. Do you and Seungkwan enjoy each other naked or not?”

“Not your business!” Hansol says, and then he shifts a little in his seat as he feels the need to confirm, “We do, though.”

“Good for you,” Junhui says, very dignified, nodding his head. He goes on, “In that case, giving yourself as a gift has a very high satisfaction rate. Soonyoungie does it for me every year on my birthday and honestly, it still hasn’t gotten old. If he ever actually buys me anything, I think I’d be disappointed.”

“First of all, gross, please don’t share any more information,” Hansol all but begs. “And secondly, isn’t that sort of a cop-out? I mean, here Seungkwannie is, putting thought and effort into what he’s getting me and all I have to offer is my dick.”

“Who’s to say you don’t put thought and effort into that, too, though?” Junhui proposes. “It’s not easy having an exciting and balanced sex life, Hansol-ssi. Do you think Rome was built in a day? It took me and Soonyoung a lot of awkward trial and error to get where we are now.”

“I said don’t share any more information.”

“It was hardly information!” Junhui defends himself. “What kind of friend are you if we can’t talk about our office boyfriends together?”

“The friend trying to enjoy his soft pretzel,” Hansol says, emphasizing the bite he takes himself now. He’s still chewing as he adds, “Maybe I’d be more willing to talk about our ‘office boyfriends’ together if you learned boundaries.”

“Don’t be boring, it makes you sound like Jihoonie,” Junhui advises. “But in all seriousness, don’t worry about the gift. So what, you couldn’t find anything today? You still have a little over a week! And if all else fails—you still have your kind heart and dick.”

“Don’t phrase it like that, please—”

“Alright, you have your kind heart and your—” Junhui stops himself. “You know what, I’m just gonna quit while I’m ahead and apologize. Sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“If you can,” Junhui says slowly, “try not to stress about it. Seungkwan will love whatever you give him. As long as it comes from the heart, y’know?” 

Hansol has no idea how him naked could come from the heart, but he’s grasping at straws here. He’ll consider it.

* * *

Seungkwan is holding a mug that has a bear on it when Hansol walks into his office the next day. He does not look too thrilled about it. 

“Cute bear,” Hansol says, anyway, mostly as a way of greeting, and Seungkwan smiles when he turns around, eyes sort of lighting up at the sight of Hansol. Hansol feels his heart skip a beat. “Where’d you get it?”

Seungkwan makes a face, looking at the mug a little closer, running a finger over the ridiculous hat the bear is wearing. “Corporate sent them to Mingyu hyung and me. Some sort of good luck in regards to planning the holiday party,” he explains. His expression worsens. “But I honestly hate it. First of all, how many mugs does somebody working in an office need, and secondly, this bear looks like a pervert.”

Seungkwan hands Hansol the mug so he can see for himself, and Hansol takes it and rolls it over in his hands once. The bear is creepy. Also, he’s incredibly thankful that he didn’t end up buying Seungkwan a mug like he had originally brainstormed. It seems like a dealbreaker for him or something. Oh, god, Hansol is worse off than he thought. 

“Give it to Jeonghannie hyung,” Hansol suggests, doing his best to ward off another breakdown that he feels is coming. He still has no gift, nor any solid ideas. Christmas is barely over a week away now. “It seems like something he’d like.” 

“True.” Seungkwan looks the bear in the eyes, holding his gaze there for a second longer before he puts it on his desk, smiling at Hansol instead. “Anyway, what’s up? Busy today?”

“Am I ever?” Hansol quips. “All I did today was order Seungcheol a new mouse pad. Wanna grab lunch together later?” 

Seungkwan smiles even wider. “That’d be nice,” he says. 

They try not to hover over each other too much at work—both of them think boundaries are important, and working together and spending free time together outside of work could be a lot for a new relationship. Still, Hansol always wants to see Seungkwan, so sometimes a shared lunch can be encouraged. 

“Only if you pick where we go, though,” Seungkwan adds. He huffs and it’s terribly cute. “I’m sick of making decisions today. I’ve been working on the holiday party all morning, I think pretty soon my brain is going to turn into goo.” 

“Please don’t do that,” Hansol says, holding a hand over his chest like he’s been wounded. “I like your brains solid and inside your head.” 

Seungkwan’s face scrunches up a little, lips turned into a small smile, but before he can respond, there’s Soonyoung barging into the cubicle, throwing a mistletoe on a string at the two of them. It knocks Hansol in the head before it just floats there, attached to a yardstick Soonyoung is wielding. 

“Uh oh,” he says, fighting through some very mature giggles, “looks like you guys have been caught. Can’t say no now. The spirit of Christmas and all.”

“Hyung,” Seungkwan says evenly, standing up from his chair and swatting the mistletoe away, “you do realize this is like—sort of sexual harassment, right?”

Soonyoung’s face falters, just for a minute before he shrugs, shaking the mistletoe around again. “Is wanting my two friends to find love and affection in the middle of the day that bad? Is it, Seungkwan-ah?”

Seungkwan blinks. “Yeah. It still is.”

“I’m starting to think you just make these HR rules up on the fly,” Soonyoung accuses, pouting. “There isn’t possibly a clause about mistletoe in the handbook. Myungho’s read it before, he would’ve told me before he just kissed Seokminie in the breakroom.”

“Before he did what?”

“No matter,” Soonyoung says quickly, giving them a sheepish smile. His eyes go straight to the mug then, the ugly one with the bear that’s still on Seungkwan’s desk, and he looks at Hansol, an unbelieving sort of look on his face. “Hansol-ah, I thought we said no mugs. You still did it?”

Hansol gives him a look right back, the kind that says are you stupid, please shut the fuck up, but before he can make any verbal protests, Seungkwan speaks instead, “Oh, this is from corporate. They apparently can spend money on stupid shit, but god forbid we want a chocolate fountain.”

“They said no to the fountain?” Soonyoung frowns. “Christmas is canceled.”

“We’re working on it,” Seungkwan assures him. He furrows his brows, “And anyway, why would Hansolie get me an ugly mug? What’s wrong with you, hyung?”

“So much,” Hansol answers for him, which Soonyoung does not seem to appreciate. He goes on, spinning a little white lie because it’s better than telling Seungkwan the truth—that he has no idea what to get him and all his ideas are shit. “We were just—talking the other day about heinous mugs. As a joke. Saying… silly things, as guys do.”

Soonyoung stifles a laugh that Hansol quickly covers up with an obnoxious cough. Seungkwan looks at him like he has four heads. Things are going great. 

“Right, well,” Soonyoung claps his hands together, still wearing a shit-eating grin, “Hansolie’s actual gift for you is gonna blow that fucking bear right out of the water. He went crazy.”

Hansol wishes he’d get lost. He wishes for it, but it does not happen, and instead, Soonyoung is still here, grinning, absolutely ruining his life. 

“Alright, well, shit,” Seungkwan says, giving him a tiny laugh that is oh-so-cute. “Can’t wait then. Feels like everyone’s in on it, but me.”

“That’s the point of surprises,” Hansol says quickly, doing his best to stay cool. If he ever was, that is. 

Before it can get any worse in here, Junhui sticks his head in the cubicle, eyes a little wide. Seungkwan looks over Soonyoung’s shoulder and smiles at him. 

“Hey, hyung,” he says. “Need something?”

“Oh, no, not really,” Junhui says, leaning up as he shoves his hands in his pockets, aiming for casual, Hansol can only assume. “Was looking for Soonyoungie.”

“Hi, baby,” Soonyoung greets him, which is technically not allowed—Seungcheol tried to put a damper on their petnames sometime two years ago, but that absolutely did not stick. Soonyoung pulls down his sleeve to look at his watch, lips pushed out in a tiny pout as he concentrates. “You’re early.”

“Mingyu said you had mistletoe, though,” Junhui explains. “You left me out!”

Seungkwan gasps, a quiet thing. “Mingyu knows about the mistletoe?”

They ignore him, Soonyoung rolling his eyes a little in that very Junhui-specific way. “Don’t be annoying, I was getting to you. Like I said, you’re early.”

“Can I ask what he’s early for?” Hansol asks warily, and then both Soonyoung and Junhui shift their eyes to Seungkwan and then back to Hansol.

“No, you may not.”

“Oh, come on!” Seungkwan whines, just as Soonyoung heads over to Junhui, mistletoe hanging over his shoulder as he grabs Junhui’s hand with his free one.

“Well, nice talking to you guys,” Soonyoung says slowly, starting to usher Junhui down the hall. “If anyone is looking for us we’ll be back soon. I changed my email status to away, so we should be good.”

“Where are you going, Soonyoung?” Seungkwan asks, but Soonyoung just smiles at him, pushing Junhui further down the hallway who goes without protest. 

“Bye!” Soonyoung calls over his shoulder and then they’re gone, safe for the way Hansol can still hear Soonyoung ask Junhui if he ‘brought the antlers,’ which Hansol would like to pretend he didn't hear. 

“They’re totally doing something dirty,” Hansol concludes, which Seungkwan looks less than pleased about, huffing out a breath.

“Unfortunately,” he says. Seungkwan shrugs. “Let them be Mingyu hyung’s problem. I give up.”

“You’re too pretty to worry about them, anyway,” Hansol tries, making Seungkwan sort of giggle, and it’s adorable, and Hansol feels at peace again. 

Seungkwan reaches out to pinch Hansol’s side, a tiny touch that is the extent of what they allow themselves at work. Hansol is proud of himself sometimes; he thinks he should probably get some sort of reward for how in control he is around Seungkwan. 

“Alright, smoothtalker, get out,” Seungkwan shoos him, shoving a little at his shoulder. “I have some more shit to sort through that I wanna finish before lunch. Start thinking of what you want, ok?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Hansol teases, heading to the exit of his cubicle. “Good luck with work. If you need any motivation just look up. I’ll probably be looking at you from my cubicle, so.”

Seungkwan squints at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says.

Hansol thinks back to his lack of Christmas gift and wishes that’s all it took.

* * *

About five purchase confirmations are sitting in Hansol’s email right now and he can confidently say he is not happy about any of them. 

“I think you’re trying too hard, hyung,” Chan tells him, swiping through his orders, tiny frown on his lips as he does. He reaches in front of him to pick at his lunch, taking an obnoxiously big bite which he talks through. “Seungkwannie probably doesn’t even need half this stuff.”

“But he deserves it,” Hansol tries to reason, even though Seungkwan definitely does not need nor probably want the expensive heated blanket that Hansol purchased this morning. He found himself on one of those articles titled Gifts Everyone Needs This Year—links attached! and absolutely fell for it. “Besides, no one else has any better ideas for me. Jun hyung told me to give himself myself for Christmas, and then I tried asking Myungho for ideas—you know how he loves reading those lifestyle blogs—but he just told me he was getting an early start to his New Year's resolution. Which is ‘to know less about all our lives,’ if you were wondering.”

On the other side of the breakroom table, Seokmin hums around a forkful of fruit. “When Junnie hyung says give him yourself—”

“He wants them to bone, hyung,” Chan informs him and Seokmin just nods. 

Hansol huffs out a sigh, slumping down in his seat. His coffee is cold and it’s giving him a headache and now Christmas is only five days away and he truly has nothing. Nothing good anyway. Why didn’t anyone warn him it would be this hard?

“Hansol-ah, I think these ideas are nice, to be honest,” Seokmin says generously, eyes scanning the orders once Chan hands him Hansol’s phone. He shrugs. “Does Seungkwannie necessarily need a tabletop, mini, retro gaming arcade? Probably not. But I do think it’s adorable and he’ll like it!”

“Seungkwannie hates gaming,” Chan points out unhelpfully. 

“It’s for the aesthetic,” Seokmin scolds him and then pauses. “I’m sending myself a link to purchase one for myself, by the way.”

“Knock yourself out,” Hansol says, slumping down even further into his seat. “Nothing else matters anymore. We might as well all buy mini gaming arcades and just die.”

“That could be sort of fun to keep at my desk for when I get bored,” Chan ponders. He points at Seokmin. “Hyung, send me the link, too.”

Seokmin shoots him finger guns, and then Hansol decides he’s finally had enough, snatching his phone away before they can comment on the Bonsai growing kit he purchased as well. His friends both turn to stare at him like they’re personally offended. 

“I’m panicking, ok?” Hansol laments, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, Jeonghan strolls in, looking unnaturally gleeful. 

“I heard someone was panicking and came as fast as I could,” he says, sitting at the table next to them, alone, but still just—watching. “I love to watch people panic.”

“Nice to see you, too, hyung,” Chan says, and then a little more sincerely, “Hey, dope tie clip!”

“I’ll tie your clip.”

“What?” Chan looks scandalized

“Hyung, not today, I’m not in the mood,” Hansol practically whines, maybe he’s being a baby about all of this, but Seungkwan is probably the best thing to ever happen to him, and if he messes their first Christmas up, he will literally have to change his name, flee the country, and shave his head. And he does not look good with a buzzcut. Trust him. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

“Bother?” Jeonghan frowns, taking packets of sugar that were left out on the table, beginning to stack them together. ‘Hansol-ssi, I am offended. Here I thought we were all friends.”

“You just told me you’d tie my clip,” Chan says. “Which—I don’t know what it means, but I know it doesn’t sound too friendly.”

Jeonghan throws a hand at him. “I come in peace,” he says. “Honestly, I’m just a little bored. Shua’s at the sales meeting on the third floor. I have no one to annoy.”

“And by annoy, you mean to desire carnally,” Seokmin says, teasing, giving Jeonghan an overly cheeky smile that quickly fades once Jeonghan simply glares at him. “I mean—to annoy.”

“Very good, Seok-ah.” Jeonghan clicks his tongue, going back to the sugar. He gets four neatly on top of each other and then looks up again. “Anyway. Still having gift troubles, Solie?”

“What do you mean still?” Hansol asks, sitting back up and fixing him with a look. “I never even told you about my gifting woes.”

“First of all, I am omnipresent and know everything,” Jeonghan tells him, entirely too serious. Hansol has half the mind to stick his tongue out at him, childish, but he doesn’t. Not yet, anyway. “But Soonyoungie told me. In the midst of him trying to give him ideas for Jun. Did we all contribute to that, by the way?”

“I suggested he get him microfiber bedsheets,” Seokmin says proudly.

“And I suggested nothing,” Hansol tells them. “Because if I can’t even get something for my own boyfriend, why am I helping Soonyoungie with his?”

“Ok, Scrooge,” Jeonghan says, which is just rich coming from him. “But I think Channie is right; you're trying too hard.”

“Wait a minute,” Chan says, “how did you know I even said that? You weren’t here yet.”

“Oh.” Jeonghan laughs to himself. “I was eavesdropping outside. Bad habit. Did you guys know Mingyu has a wax appointment after work today, by the way?” 

“No, hyung, we didn’t.”

“Like I said, bad habit,” Jeonghan says and then shrugs. “But really, Hansol-ah—it doesn’t have to be something big. It just has to be something from the heart.”

Hansol frowns. He doesn’t dislike Jeonghan in the slightest, but he does dislike when he’s right. 

“What would you know about a gift from the heart?” he asks. “When we did an office Secret Santa two years ago, you bought Jihoon hyung a sprinkler.”

“It’s useful!”

“He lives in an apartment building. He doesn’t even have a lawn!”

Jeonghan knocks over his miniature sugar packet tower, throwing one at Seokmin’s head. The latter doesn’t even complain. 

“Look—you don’t have to listen to me, but I just think it’d be a good way to show him how you feel about him,” Jeonghan says slowly. He’s standing now, like he’s already starting to mentally tap out of the conversation. “It’d be more thoughtful than—whatever the fuck you bought him. He got a favorite coffee shop? Favorite brand of gum? I mean, a little bigger, but—”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” Seokmin interrupts accusingly, pointing a finger at the aforementioned hyung while he grins, absolutely evil. “It’s you.”

“Of course, it’s me.” Jeonghan blinks, then furrows his brows, confused. “Wait. What the fuck are you talking about, Seokmin-ssi?”

“You’re the one buying all the little goodies for Shua hyung,” Seokmin says, laughing. He actually sort of kicks his feet underneath the table. “You’re the one leaving him all that shit! He’s been interrogating me about who it was all week. He told me if I saw someone put something at his desk, I should pull the fire alarm.”

“Oh, you shut the hell up,” Jeonghan says, pointing a finger right back in Seokmin’s direction. Seokmin looks mildly threatened. “I will not stand here and be slandered. It’s probably like, Seungcheolie doing it. He just can’t show favoritism so he’s keeping it anonymous.”

Chan looks around, obviously confused. “Wait, Joshua is getting gifts every day? Why isn’t anyone doing that for me?”

“This conversation is over,” Jeonghan decides. He turns to the door. “Good luck with the gifts, Hansol-ah. Or bad luck, whatever. I just remembered I need to go bother Wonwoo.”

“You can’t hide from love, hyung!” Seokmin calls after him, and then he’s gone, the clock on the wall signaling lunchtime is over. 

And no, Hansol did not make any more progress.

* * *

“I thought we said no penis straws!” Seungcheol huffs, one hand rubbing at his temples while another holds a large glass of eggnog, the one Hansol is sort of too afraid to try for the sake of accidentally overserving himself. It looks strong. If the way Soonyoung is already starting to get too handsy with Junhui is something to go by. Which—maybe it isn’t, knowing them. 

In any case, across from Seungcheol’s disapproving glare is Mingyu, the straw in question in his drink as he takes a polite sip, shrugging. 

“We did,” he confirms. “So we didn’t buy them! All me and Seungkwannie splurged on was the chocolate fountain. It’s not a holiday party without the chocolate fountain, hyung.” 

“I mean, agreed,” Seungcheol mumbles before he straightens up. He eyes Jihoon from where he’s helping himself to some fruit he’s dipping in it. “But I swear to god, I better not see those straws on the bill, Kim Mingyu. I’m serious, if corporate finds them—”

“It wasn’t us, I promise!” Mingyu whines, the annoyance in his voice clear even over the boom of the music, some Christmas song blasting while Chan forces Minghao and Seokmin up from their table to dance with him. “They were just here. A Christmas miracle, if you will.” 

“If you wanna call it a miracle,” Jihoon says with a laugh. “That’s a dick, Mingyu-yah.”

“Oh, so now you don’t wanna see one?” Wonwoo says, rolling his eyes. He crosses his arms over his mossy green sweater—the most festive thing he owns. “Whatever, Jihoon-ah. Noted, really.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Soonyoung leans away from where he’s been cuddled up against Junhui and blinks. There’s some glitter on his shoulder—most likely rubbed off from the ornate Santa hat that he insists on wearing every year. “Did you guys sleep together? Did Jihoonie look at Wonu’s dick?”

“HR violations and code of conduct,” Seungkwan tries weakly, but it gets lost under the noise as they continue. Seungcheol seems to have given up, opting for his eggnog instead. And yes, he does use the straw. 

“Shua hyung wanted them last time,” Minghao says with a shrug, pawning off Chan to dance solely with Seokmin, the two of them just bouncing around the table awkwardly. “Maybe he brought them. Or—someone brought them for him?” 

“Last time was a joke, I told you guys that,” Joshua says with a roll of his eyes. “I did not bring them. And anyway, why would someone bring them for me?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Minghao takes a long sip of his eggnog. He knows something, Hansol is pretty sure, or that’s just like—his default state. Minghao always sort of looks like he knows something. “Maybe whoever brought them has been… secretly giving you gifts the past two weeks and this was the final boss. Maybe they’re madly in love with you.”

“That is so—” Joshua starts to argue, cut off by Seokmin who nearly throws himself at the table from where he’d been with Chan, bumping into where Mingyu is diligently grilling meat for them, letting out a hey! of protest. 

“So accurate?” Seokmin tries. “So wildly true and such a romantic gesture that you’d be willing to date whoever did that?”

Joshua blinks. “What?” 

“Hey, no offense,” Soonyoung interrupts, one hand occupying itself with a soothing pat through Junhui's hair, “but can we go back to Wonu and Jihoon possibly sleeping together? Because that was riveting.”

“We did not—”

“HR violations and code of conduct!”

“Thank you, Seungkwan-ah,” Seungcheol says tiredly. “But I think we lost this round.”

Seungkwan shrugs. “Just don’t forget I tried when you write my end-of-the-year evaluation.”

“So is no one going to own up to the penis straws?” Seungcheol tries again, frowning. “I’m not even mad. I just need to make sure it wasn’t that nosy son of a bitch on floor seven. He’s been trying to get me fired for like—ever.”

“The guy that rides the scooter to work?” Mingyu asks. “He probably just wants to bone.” 

Jeonghan scoffs, looking over his glass. He has two straws in his cup. “I don’t think the response to everything is that they just wanna bone—”

“Oh, says you,” Mingyu huffs. “You’ve been awfully quiet this entire time, hyung. Where do you think the straws came from, huh?”

“Santa Claus.” Jeonghan blinks, expression unmoving. He takes a sip. “Or the same way Channie got a job here—the stork dropped them off.”

“I am not even that young!” Chan argues, abandoning whatever dance number he had going to All I Want For Christmas Is You, sitting into his hip instead. “Four years is hardly an age gap between us!”

“And within the four years that I’ve been a fully functioning adult while you were drinking vodka mixed with juice boxes in university, I’ve seen more within this company than you have seen in your entire life.”

Hansol hums, considering it. “Unfortunately, that’s probably true.”

“So since you see and know everything, that must mean you saw where the penis straws came from,” Seokmin presses, leaning over the table now, practically knocking down Minghao’s glass of eggnog as he does. He protests a little, but everyone knows Minghao can’t truly stay mad at Seokmin, so he lets it happen, anyway. 

“Don’t use my power against me,” Jeonghan says with a huff. He glances across the table to the corner for just a second. “Soonyoung-ah, stop trying to give Jun a handy under the table.”

At this, Seungcheol stands, pointing an accusing finger in their direction. “What did we say? Both hands where we can see them at all times!”

Junhui waves his hands above his head. “They’re right here!”

“Soonyoung!”

“No fun,” he mumbles, but raises his hands, anyway, long sleeves of the ridiculously oversized sweater he has on flopping over them. He wiggles his fingers and his sleeves fall and then they’re all just staring at the two of them and—

“Wait a fucking second,” Seungkwan says, squinting, standing up in his seat and pointing across the table. “What is that?”

Soonyoung and Junhui exchange a look, confused. Everyone else seems preoccupied otherwise; eggnog, the chuck flap Mingyu is now putting on everyone’s plates, the penis straws, usual holiday spirit, etc. 

“What’s what?” Junhui looks around. “Did we somehow get Young Tak to perform again? Is he here?!”

“Young Tak is doing a show in Busan,” Joshua says, otherwise bored, dipping into the chocolate fountain. 

“There is no Young Tak,” Seungkwan says, a bit exasperated. Hansol knows it's not the time, but honestly, Seungkwan is so cute. “I’m talking about that. Your hands.”

“What’s wrong with our hands?” Soonyoung tugs Junhui’s down, holding them in his own protectively. “I swear, I hardly touched Junnie, there’s nothing that could even—”

Hansol sees it then. Left hands, third fingers. In the back of his mind, he thinks about their mall trip. Junhui’s vague gift. Wen fucking Junhui. 

“Oh, you did not,” Hansol says, laughs sort of, and then everyone is looking, and Soonyoung seems to have caught on, and Junhui, sweet Junhui, is still wildly confused. 

“We didn’t… not,” Soonyoung says slowly, scooting impossibly closer to Junhui. 

“Could somebody—tell me what we did?” Junhui laughs nervously. “Or didn’t do, apparently.”

“The fucking rings, Jun-ah,” Wonwoo says flatly, pointing at the two of them accusingly. 

“Oh, that.” Junhui laughs, lifting his hand again. “Yeah, I picked them up that day you refused to go to the mall with me. It was not a dildo, you fucking freak. It was a symbol of our love.”

“Who’s to say a dildo is not also a symbol of your love?” Chan proposes, which Junhui seems to consider very deeply. 

“So you two are—engaged? Getting married?” Jihoon looks floored. “I’ll be honest, when Soonyoungie was asking us for Christmas gift ideas and had ‘nipple piercing’ written down, I didn’t think we’d end up here.”

Jeonghan looks at Junhui incredulously. “You have your nipples pierced?”

“No,” Soonyoung answers for him. “I was going to get them. It’s called a gift, hyung.”

Minghao scoffs, taking a sip from his drink. “That’s gay.”

“What’s gay is the super awesome sex me and Junnie are gonna have when we honeymoon in Bora Bora,” Soonyoung says. He looks proud about it. “Which was another idea on my Christmas list. Who would’ve thought our ideas would go together?”

“Is this why you asked me for two weeks off in February?” Seungcheol asks. “I just thought you guys were going to Snoopy Garden again.”

“And we would,” Junhui says quickly. “I do not fucking play about Snoopy.”

“I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around all this,” Seungkwan says. “Why does no one else care?”

“Nothing you people do surprises me anymore,” Seungcheol says. “I’m just happy this party is going smoothly. No one has taken their clothes off yet!”

“Yet!” Mingyu emphasizes gleefully, now taking Soonyoung’s hand and inspecting the ring. 

“But we still don’t know who brought the penis straws,” Seokmin points out, just to be a bit of a pain in the ass, which he is. 

“Our coworkers just subtly dropped that they’re like, probably going to get married and you are still worried about the penis straws?” Joshua asks, testy, shaking the straw from his drink in Seokmin’s direction. 

“Soonyoungie and Jun getting married was inevitable,” Seokmin says, throwing a hand dismissively. He huffs, like he’s all fed up now, and looks at Jeonghan. “Hyung, I know you were the one who bought the straws for Shua.”

“Lee Seokmin, you are a dirty liar.”

“Can we not talk about Jeonghannie buying me anything?” Joshua pleads. Or at least, sounds mildly annoyed about it. Joshua does not plead. He simply is. “Or Jeonghan and me in the same sentence ever, at that.” 

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, leaning forward in his chair. “Does it bother you that badly, Hong Jisoo?” he asks. “Can you really not stand me possibly doing nice things for you? Does that scare you? Does having someone who wants you scare you?”

Wonwoo whistles lowly, earning a glare from Joshua in the process. Wonwoo just grins.

“We are not doing this here, Yoon Jeonghan,” Joshua says slowly, and he’s got that weird look in his eye again, the one he always gets when he’s arguing with Jeonghan. It’s different from the look he gets when he argues with someone like Mingyu, for example. More—charged. Tense. 

“Where do you wanna do it then, huh?” Jeonghan asks, annoying. He raises a brow. “Your place? Mine again?”

“This is escalating quickly,” Chan says, scooting in closer to where Minghao is watching, a devious, little smile on his face. 

“We should go back to talking about Soonyoung and Jun hyung,” Seokmin says slowly. “Or hey, Hansol-ah, what’d you end up getting Seungkwannie for Christmas?”

Hansol falters, choking on some of his eggnog which he decides tastes like shit. There is no way Minghao is enjoying the four cups he’s already had. 

“We haven't exchanged gifts yet,” Hansol says smoothly. Seungkwan sits back down next to him and Hansol instinctively puts an arm around the back of his chair, before getting embarrassed and putting it back by his side instead. “And besides, is it your business?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Mingyu says, mumbling. “But since you recruited the whole office—”

“We should go back to talking about Soonyoung and Junnie,” Hansol says quickly, gesturing wildly in their direction.

“No we’re good,” Soonyoung says. “I don’t like how now you guys suddenly wanna be invested in our relationship. When in the past, any time I tried to tell anyone anything it was always ‘ew, Soonyoungie, that’s TMI,’ or ‘really, Soonyoung-ssi, no one needs to know you guys get down like that.’”

“There was a solid week in my life where you kept track of how many times Junnie and you— got busy in an email sent to me!” Jihoon complains. “Of course, no one wanted to hear about you two!”

“Don’t say got busy,” Seungcheol says, because that’s the important thing here. “Makes you sound old.”

“Hansol-ah, I’m so excited to see what you got me,” Seungkwan says, all giddy and cutely, and oh, fuck, Hansol is screwed. “Everyone seriously knows but me. I’m all left out.”

Hansol laughs, nervous, in favor of not saying something like, actually, no one knows because I don’t even know, because I am the world’s worst boyfriend. 

“I guess you’ll have to see,” Hansol says with a shrug, helping himself to more of the god-awful eggnog. He’s just planning on getting wasted and blacking out before anyone can ask him anything else now. “Keep the surprise alive, Boo.”

“Tease,” Seungkwan mumbles through a pout, and his hand is on his thigh now, and for a second Hansol sort of understands Soonyoung and Junhui and all their disgusting displays of public affection. 

“You wouldn’t tell me either,” Hansol points out, and Seungkwan goes to poke some more fun back, but then the arguing around them is getting increasingly louder, and now—

“Ok, fine,” Jeonghan is saying, looking directly at Joshua, whose gaze is still unwavering. Oh, they’re back to that. “It was me. I’ve been getting you the little gifts all week. The gum, the pastries, all of it. Happy?”

“No.” Joshua folds his arms. “I didn’t—want any gifts. Especially penis straws!”

“The penis straws were a joke,” Jeonghan says evenly. “And it’s too late. I wanted to give them to you, so, ha.”

“There’s no ha, Yoon Jeonghan,” Joshua says. “There’s only—you being a pain in my ass.”

“Maybe I like it that way,” Jeonghan says, which raises mild confusion among half the group, but they let them continue. It’s best not to interrupt these things. “You know what I want for Christmas, Shua-ssi?” 

“Is he gonna say you?” Seungkwan mumbles to Hansol, eyes wide, to which Hansol has to stifle a laugh. 

“I hope you want a reality check,” Joshua laughs, “because I’m about to give you one.”

“No, thank you,” Jeonghan says. He holds up a hand. “I want you to stop—being so uptight. Let me take you out, like I’ve been saying, because—you make me so mad that I—well, whatever—”

“Whatever,” Joshua repeats, scoffing, “is that all?”

“No, you dick, it isn’t,” Jeonghan says primly. “I also want you to say yes, because I think it’d be fun, and life is short and this office is sucky, so we deserve some fucking fun! And, while we’re at it—I want you to stop wearing those pants, because they fit you too well to be worn in a work environment, and I’m trying to keep my job here.”

Joshua laughs, incredulous, thrown off, maybe just flustered, and he looks around at the group, everyone just—still watching. Hansol thinks if they served popcorn here then half of them would probably have had it by now. 

He stands then, evening out his expression. His eyes narrow. He looks scary and Jeonghan looks back at him with an unmistakable amount of mirth in his eyes, and Hansol feels even more terrified. He shrugs. 

“Ok, fine, Yoon Jeonghan,” he says. He stretches his arms above his head, pops a bone in his back. “Your place then.”

“Oh, that’s gross,” Wonwoo laments over the new outburst of laughter and Mingyu who wolf whistles, a very HR-appropriate response. 

“Is that seriously all it took?” Seokmin asks, hand to his chest like he’s a scandalized little old lady, to which Jihoon very correctly points out, “That is not all it took, it has been years of psychological warfare leading up to this.”

“This is gross,” Wonwoo insists as Jeonghan hastily makes his way out of his seat, stopping only to harshly flick Seokmin in the back of his head, which he recoils at. 

“I can’t believe our surprise engagement got overpowered by Jeonghannie and Shua hyung leaving to—touch each other,” Soonyoung marvels, and Hansol can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset or not. “Jun-ah, honey, we should start doing it here to steal back our thunder.”

“No, you should not,” Seungcheol says quickly. “Once again, we had pamphlets from corporate—”

“And once again,” Minghao interrupts, “if it happens off-property it doesn’t count! And the penis straws were from hyung’s own pocket! None of this counts!”

Seungcheol huffs, defeated, sitting back in his chair. He’s finishing his umpteenth glass of eggnog when Jeonghan bids a dramatic goodbye to everyone, Joshua simply flipping off the room before he slides out before him. 

“I am taking an extended vacation after the holidays,” Seungcheol decides. “Or maybe forever.”

“Aw, hyung,” Junhui says, lap now suddenly full of Soonyoung, “you can always come to Bora Bora with us!”

“Oh, man,” Chan says through a fit of laughter, wiping at a tear from his eye, “this is the best holiday party yet.”

Hansol looks over at Seungkwan, curious, and Seungkwan beams. 

* * *

Hansol’s been trying to open his door for an entire thirty seconds, which doesn’t seem that long, but when he’s got Seungkwan attached to his back, lips nipping and pecking at his neck, it might as well be an eternity. His boyfriend shows no mercy.

“Any day now, Hansol-ssi,” Seungkwan teases, one of his hands creeping under the hem of Hansol’s shirt, Seungkwan’s fingers cold from the December air, but inviting nonetheless. 

“I’m getting there, goddammit,” Hansol mumbles. “Would help if you weren’t—trying to take off my clothes in the hallway. Animal.”

“So now I’m the animal,” Seungkwan muses with a scoff. “After you were in the cab—”

“Acting perfectly normal?” Hansol suggests. He’s kidding. He knows he was kinda way too handsy, but Seungkwan is hot and his jeans fit him nicely and they have had a night. They deserve this.

Seungkwan pinches the skin of his hip, scolding, and Hansol can’t help but laugh, a little giddy. He likes Seungkwan so much it's a little gross. 

Finally, though, the door to his place unlocks, and before he can fully push it open, Seungkwan is on him again, flipping him around as he connects their lips, pushing him backward into the apartment. He’s really fired up. Hansol’s gut feels hot; excited. 

“Seungkwan-ah,” Hansol tries, but he’s still kissing him, stumbling over his own feet as he shuts the door behind Seungkwan, the lock clicking back into place. “Seungkwan, you’re—”

He doesn’t get to finish, because his life is a horrendous, comedic disaster, and the universe is playing an awful joke on him, and Seungkwan sort of— fucking trips, right over a goddamn package, one of about twelve that Hansol has scattered around the room. 

Fuck. 

“What the—” Seungkwan is mumbling, pulling away from Hansol, sincerely confused look on his face. His bottom lip is a little swollen, and his eyebrows are furrowed, and it would honestly be so adorable if not for the fact that Seungkwan is now surrounded by the many, dozens of gifts that Hansol panic-ordered for him, and completely forgot to put away. “Hansol-ah?”

“Uh,” Hansol stammers, “yes, Seungkwan?”

Maybe if he pretends they’re not there, the packages will all disappear. Or maybe Seungkwan will just let his libido get the best of him and they can bypass the situation entirely, and take it to the bedroom instead. 

“Is there any reason as to why your living room looks like an Amazon warehouse?”

“Oh.” Hansol laughs awkwardly, taking a step back from Seungkwan and kicking a box to the side. “That.”

“Yes,” Seungkwan confirms. He gestures around the room, “That.”

Hansol sighs, wanting to cry or scream or disappear entirely because this is it, this is the big confession. 

I had no idea what to get you because I’m a terrible boyfriend, so I got everything, and I don’t think you’ll even like any of it, thank you for giving me a chance for a beautiful six months, can I at least please give a proper goodbye to your ass before you go? 

“If you wanna break up with me, that’s ok,” Hansol says all too quickly, trying to rip the bandaid off. 

Seungkwan’s eyes widen. “What? What did you do, why would I—Hansol!”

“I’m the world’s worst boyfriend.”

“Because you have an apparent online shopping addiction?” Seungkwan looks around. “Look, it’s not ideal, babe, but I can help you organize this! I love the container store!”

“No, that’s not—” Hansol sighs, plopping himself on the couch in between two boxes. He thinks the one on his right is an air fryer. “They’re all for you.”

“Huh?” Seungkwan still looks confused. He takes a step further into the apartment, stepping over a package to stand in front of Hansol. “You bought me all this? But why would you—”

“I didn’t know what to get you for Christmas,” Hansol starts to explain. “I had so many ideas, and then everyone told me they were shit, so I went to the mall with Jun hyung, and then I still couldn’t find anything, so I went online and ordered, well, everything.”

Seungkwan just blinks, so Hansol continues, absolutely rambling. 

“Hated all that, too. And so Jeonghannie hyung told me all that would matter is if it came from the heart, but that didn’t make me feel better because in my heart when it comes to you all I have is like—butterflies and stupid, irregular heartbeats and. God. I like you so much, I seriously think you’re so cool, Seungkwan-ah, so everything I thought of still wasn’t good enough. Because you deserve—the world. And sometimes, I don’t get why you’re with me, because you’re way out of my league, but it’s our first Christmas together and I wanted to make it special but instead, I ruined it.” 

Seungkwan is still silent, eyes wide as he looks around the room, taking it all in. Hansol wants to die. He wants to take the heated blanket from one of these boxes, wrap it around himself, and just—melt to death or something. It would be less painful than the humiliation of all this. 

“Hansol-ah,” Seungkwan says softly and Hansol thinks he might just throw up at this point. “You did all this for me?” 

“Well, yeah,” Hansol says helplessly. “I tried to, but—”

“Oh, my god,” Seungkwan is laughing a little— why is he laughing, “that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, are you stupid? What the fuck. You’re so cute. That’s so cute, you went and you—”

“Wait, what?” Hansol doesn't understand. He just admitted absolute defeat, basically told Seungkwan he’s the world’s worst boyfriend because he couldn’t think of even one good thing, and yet. “Seungkwan-ah, I don’t—I ruined our first Christmas.”

“Ruined?” Seungkwan looks a little mad now. He takes a step closer to Hansol so he’s directly in front of him, pretty, delicate hands on Hansol’s broad shoulders. “What’s wrong with you, Chwe Hansol? You didn’t have to get me anything, let alone— all this. You’re the farthest thing from a bad boyfriend. Why would you ever say all that?”

“I just get so nervous around you sometimes,” Hansol admits stupidly. He looks around the room and feels a pang of guilt. Guilty that he thought he wasn’t good enough, guilty that he thought Seungkwan would be more worried about a physical gift than him, guilty that he’ll be paying off his credit card for like, a while now. “I just wanted you to understand how much you mean to me. I’m not even trying to make you pity me or something, seriously. And I’m sure you got me a super amazing gift which makes me feel even worse. But I—”

“Stupid, sweet boy, oh, Hansol,” Seungkwan says, chastising, reaching out to touch Hansol’s cheekbone, gentle with his hand there. He leans down and kisses him, just once. “Of course, I know how much I mean to you. You didn’t—no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. It’s so stupid. It’s so you.”

“Is that—an insult?” Hansol asks, hands coming to settle at Seungkwan’s waist as he laughs, pretty and lovely and Hansol’s favorite sound in the world. 

Seungkwan kisses him again. “Of course not.” Another kiss. “I like you so much. Gifts are so pointless, anyway. I just—am happy to have you. I mean it.”

Hansol kisses him this time, tugging Seungkwan down onto his lap, and he’s not sure if he can do that right now, but his neck is cramping from the way Seungkwan was still standing over him, so he’s doing both of them a favor. 

Seungkwan is warm, and he tastes like eggnog, and he’s probably the best thing to ever happen to Hansol. Is he being dramatic? Is six months too soon? Hansol doesn’t care. He also doesn’t care that he’s going to go into severe debt over all this. Seungkwan is worth it. 

Seungkwan pulls away after a second, reaching behind Hansol, to pull out a box. “Is this a heated seat cushion?”

Hansol looks at the box he’s holding and nods weakly. “It was for work. I know you get cold and your ass is like, precious cargo, so I thought—”

“Hansol!” Seungkwan scolds him, tossing the box back before he laughs, giving Hansol another kiss. He’s smiling against his lips. “You’re an idiot. We’re returning all of it.”

Hansol makes a noise of protest. “Then what am I supposed to get you? I want there to be something! You can pick. We can go through them later and you can have whatever you want, Boo.”

“Fine,” Seungkwan reluctantly agrees, connecting their lips again. They’re getting more desperate, a continuation of what they started before. “For now, I think I have a better gift idea.”

Hansol hums, mumbles against Seungkwan’s mouth, “Yeah? What?”

“Just you,” Seungkwan says, lamely, but god, Hansol can’t find it in him to think so as Seungkwan grinds down into his lap, rolling his hips in a way that should not be happening while Hansol sits next to the literal air fryer. 

“Oh, really?” Hansol says because Seungkwan still makes him nervous and he’s just gone through so many emotions and now he’s horny again, it’s all just been such a ride. 

“Yes, really,” Seungkwan says, laughing probably at Hansol, but Hansol doesn’t mind. “Wanted you all night. And now you’ve gone and—done the cutest thing in the world. Both your thoughtfulness and self-awareness are such a turn-on. I want you to fuck me so bad.”

“In that case, I am so self-aware and thoughtful,” Hansol says quickly. “And I will so do that.”

Seungkwan’s tongue is in his mouth now and his hands are in his shirt again and he’s so good, Hansol wants to scream and cry and a bunch of other things, but mainly he wants Seungkwan, right this very second. 

Hansol’s hand slips to Seungkwan’s ass and squeezes a little, drawing a pretty moan from his boyfriend that makes him smile before they pull apart, albeit reluctantly. 

“Hey,” Hansol says against his lips.

“Hi.”

“Can we—do this somewhere where there’s not a bunch of cardboard boxes around us?” Hansol suggests. Seungkwan looks around, seemingly coming back to himself. He laughs, so Hansol laughs with him and it’s stupid, but them and perfect. 

“Please,” Seungkwan says, standing up and tugging Hansol with him. Seungkwan’s hands are always so pretty in his own. “Take me to bed, Chwe Hansol. Make our first Christmas worthwhile, hm?”

“For you,” he says, silly, but god, he means it, “anything.”

For the first time in two weeks, Hansol is confident in that. 

* * *

To: All

From: Choi Seungcheol

Subject: Out of Office 

Morning,

Firstly, I hope everyone had a nice holiday. While it is a pleasure working with you guys, the holidays do seem to always remind me why you people drive me up a wall sometimes.

That being said, I will be taking an extended vacation for a few weeks (no, not to Bora Bora, Soonyoung and Junhwi), so if you should need anything in my time of absence, please look to Jihoon, as he’ll be stepping up while I’m gone. 

If he gives you a hard time, Mingyu and Seungkwan are available for questions. 

Happy New Year, everyone! I’ll see you in the relatively near future. 

(Seriously – do not bother me while I’m gone.)

Best wishes,

Choi Seungcheol

Office Manager