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"This is ridiculous," Yoongi tells Hoseok, the other struggling to fasten a goddamn mistletoe over the entrance of the hallway leading to the bed and bathrooms.
Hoseok looks down at him, pouting. Yoongi hates how his heart flutters at the sight of it. "It's cute!"
Yoongi rolls his eyes. Technically, Yoongi should blame himself for this. After all, he’s the one who agreed to let Hoseok host their annual Christmas party at his and Seokjin's shared apartment, since Hoseok's roommate’s girlfriend of three years came to visit him for the break, and Hoseok decided that he would be a gentleman, a good friend, and definitely not a cock-block.
And it's not like Yoongi hadn't expected Hoseok to go all out with the decorating, because who was he kidding? This is Hoseok, currently clad in an offensively green Christmas sweater with the face of Rudolph at the front, red nose sticking out as a giant ball of fluff. Even his reindeer headband twinkled with lights. But a mistletoe? Yoongi is far from understanding.
"It's only gonna be the seven of us, Hoseok." Probably. "...probably. You think any of us would agree to kissing each other?"
Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows, grin mischievous. "If we're lucky."
It's not a completely insane idea, admittedly. They're all close, as this is their third Christmas together (and their first actual Christmas party as a group, which Hoseok insisted on calling ‘annual’ before it even began because if Hoseok is anything it's persistent and by God will this be a tradition for the rest of their lives), and Yoongi knows the majority of them wouldn't feel uncomfortable being caught under the mistletoe with another. Hell, Jimin would probably pounce on the nearest person in his reach. He'd plant a sloppy wet kiss on Yoongi's cheek, which Yoongi would hiss at, but eventually move on from. Jimin isn't his problem.
His problem is, undoubtedly, Hoseok. Hoseok, who is not one to skim on the PDA with just about anyone, especially his six best friends; snuggling up to Seokjin when the elder is making his favorite dish, or kissing Jungkook’s forehead when the boy actually turns in any of his assignments, or… Or. Or sitting next to Yoongi on the sleepless nights Yoongi is pouring over bullshit compositions, brain fried and eyes crazed, and taking Yoongi’s hands in his own when the other’s are cramped and useless, massaging from his wrist to his palm to the very tips of his fingers, a gentle smile at his mouth. Hoseok, who makes him feel like he’s everything in that moment, looking at him as if that’s all he ever wants to do with his time, thumb pressed against the pale skin of Yoongi’s wrist. And then like he’s nothing, when Yoongi remembers Hoseok would do this for all his friends.
(Right?)
(“You should probably go home, Hoseok.”
“And leave you here alone? No.”
“Seokjin-hyung will be home soon, I’ll be fine.”
“I want to be here.”
“It’s four in the goddamn morning.”
“I want to be here with you.”)
Hoseok, who is fucking impossible to read.
Yoongi sighs, finally.
"Fine. But if I'm gonna end up under this thing with Namjoon, your head will be Christmas dinner."
Hoseok's smile is brighter than the goddamn sun and Yoongi suddenly wonders if they'll all be engulfed in its flames.
*
Seokjin is the first to arrive, unsurprisingly. It’s still early, three p.m. when they’re all to show up at eight, but this is his apartment and he still has to dinner to cook.
He whistles, impressed, as he looks around the place. “Wow. You’ve really outdone yourself this year, Yoongi.”
Yoongi grins, taking the grocery bags out of Seokjin’s arms and stepping into the kitchen with him. “Yep, I’m incredible. That one over there didn’t work for shit, though.”
That one over there that Yoongi refers to is Hoseok, knocked out on the couch, mouth slightly open and leftover streamers still on his stomach. Yoongi almost feels sorry for the guy, having decorated nonstop since nine a.m. with only the bare minimum of help from a certain Min Yoongi (in his defense, he has a bad back. In Hoseok’s amusement, Yoongi’s a bad liar), but it’s not as if anyone forced Hoseok to go the extra ten miles for this party, so Yoongi’s sympathy can only reach so far.
Seokjin laughs, unwrapping the pale pink scarf from his neck. “I bet. Here, hold on.”
He takes out a couple of onions from one of the bags and instructs Yoongi to cut them while he changes clothes. Yoongi shrugs, that’s simple enough. Easier than having to hold Hoseok’s waist steady while the other stuck snowflakes onto the roof, his face full of an ass he had to forcefully tear his eyes away from, that’s for sure.
Yoongi’s halfway through the second onion when he hears Seokjin again.
“Hey,” he calls, loud enough for Yoongi’s attention but not to perturb Hoseok’s sleep.
Yoongi pokes his head out of the kitchen, and sighs when he sees what Seokjin’s pointing at. The guy is right under that damn mistletoe. “Is this your new tactic?”
“Fuck off, it was Hoseok’s idea,” Yoongi says, but his cheeks color at the accusation, anyway.
“Of course,” Seokjin nods, his but his smile is knowing. Yoongi wants to knock it right off his face. Screw Seokjin and his ability to have Yoongi pouring his love-struck heart out without much effort, honestly. And his ability to tolerate high amounts of alcohol during these embarrassing heart-to-hearts. “But who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“Like you with Jimin?” Yoongi shoots back.
Seokjin snorts, waving a hand in dismissal, but Yoongi can see right through him.
*
Namjoon is the second to arrive, at seven, brandishing alcohol.
Yoongi hurries to take the bottles from his hands as he enters. “God, I love you.”
Namjoon makes a face at him. “It’s way too early and we’re both way too sober for that kind of confession, hyung. And this place sure is… something.”
“Thank you!” Hoseok calls from the kitchen.
Hoseok relieved Yoongi of kitchen duty when he woke up an hour and a half ago, much to his relief and gratitude. If Yoongi had to endure another ten minutes of “no, cut it like this” or “Jesus, you’re worse than Namjoon when he’s stoned, and that’s saying something,” he knows he would’ve lost it. So he settles for drinks duty, which basically consists of making sure they’re stocked up on the liquor and the eggnog and the fruit juices everyone else liked to mix their shit with. Check, check, triple check.
Yoongi flops down onto the couch next to Namjoon, who is already scrolling through Twitter on his phone.
“Whose DMs are you trying to slide into now?”
Namjoon doesn’t look up. “Your dad’s.”
Yoongi snorts. “If only he had an account. Is this your way of finally admitting you’re bi?”
“If only that were true,” Namjoon says, retweeting something from an American rapper. “Alas, I love women far too much for that to be the case.”
Yoongi scrunches up his nose. “Gross.”
Namjoon gives Yoongi an offended look. “No, you know what’s actually gross? The fact that I’m spending this romantic holiday with six other guys I have no interest in hitting up. At least there were girls at Hyosang’s party.”
“Bullshit, you love us,” Yoongi laughs. “But emphasis on the romantic. Have you seen that thing?”
Namjoon’s gaze follow to where Yoongi’s pointing, at the stupid little mistletoe across the room, and he raises his eyebrows.
“Hoseok?”
“Who else?” Yoongi sighs.
Namjoon shrugs. “Could be fun, granted I don’t go anywhere near it. I’d kill to see Jimin under that thing with Jungkook.”
“We can count on a makeout session between Jimin and Taehyung, if they’re drunk enough.”
“That’s unsettling. You think Seokjin-hyung and Hoseok would go that far?”
Yoongi’s stomach flips at the thought of that. He tries not to let it show on his face, though. “With Seokjin-hyung’s tolerance? I doubt it.”
Namjoon looks at Yoongi as if he’s trying to figure something out. Yoongi feels oddly self-conscious. “Hmm. And you? Anyone you wanna be caught under the mistletoe with?”
“That’s disgusting. You’re all like family to me.”
Namjoon smiles, obviously pleased with something. “Right.”
So screw Namjoon, too. Both him and Seokjin can go to hell.
*
It’s nine p.m. and no one is dead yet, which is a good sign. Christmas music is blasting throughout the apartment and Jimin is in the middle of the living room trying to prove that you can grind to Christmas music, so stop squirming Namjoon-hyung and let me work my magic, while Taehyung and Jungkook fall over themselves laughing at Namjoon’s expense, but that’s expected from them. Normal, even. As is Seokjin filming this mess as for future blackmail.
Yoongi is shaking his head at the scene, sipping at his spiked eggnog which is really more rum than eggnog and it tastes kind of terrible but a drink’s a drink, and Yoongi’s never one to pass up on those, when Hoseok comes up next to him and bumps their shoulders.
“I should plan these things more often. This is, like, the best party I’ve ever been to.”
Yoongi laughs, watching Jungkook attempt to breakdance to “Deck the Halls”. “That’s not something you should say only an hour into the party. Especially when none of us are drunk and Namjoon hasn’t broken anything yet.”
Hoseok sighs. “And the fact that no one has kissed under the mistletoe.”
Oh, right. That thing. When Hoseok had mentioned it to the kids as they arrived, Jimin just about bolted toward it, stringing Jungkook and Taehyung along with him. Hoseok had stopped them, though, firmly telling them that the kisses should come naturally and you can’t force fate, or something like that. Yoongi’s just been careful to avoid it at all costs, which has been relatively easy so far.
But Yoongi’s still curious. “Why does it matter to you, anyway?”
Hoseok takes Yoongi’s drink from his hand and gulps it down. His face scrunches up adorably as he gives it back, blatantly displeased with the lack of eggnog. Yoongi has to bite back a smile. “It’s part of the tradition.”
“The tradition you continue to make the rules for as you go?”
Hoseok smiles at him. “Exactly.”
Yoongi looks down into his cup to avoid the way his heart somersaults in his chest. Being in love with your best friend for two years does nothing to dull the fact he still makes you weak at the knees when he smiles. It’s annoying.
“So,” Yoongi says, despite himself. “Who is it you wanna kiss so bad, that you’re so stubborn about it?”
Hoseok’s eyes widen for a moment, before settling back into an easy smile. “Everyone.”
Yoongi doesn’t buy it. “Even Namjoon?”
Hoseok downright giggles. “Especially Namjoon.”
“Gross," Yoongi frowns. “But really. What are you doing this for? Secret agenda? Playing matchmaker?”
“Wow, someone’s curious,” Hoseok says, in a voice that means Yoongi’s caught onto something. “You’ll find out, soon enough.”
Yoongi doesn’t like the look in Hoseok’s eyes as he says that.
*
It turns it Yoongi does find out, soon enough. It’s midnight, the speakers are blasting “Last Christmas” for the third time that night, and they are all crooning the lyrics in various degrees of English, completely trashed (save for Seokjin, probably, but even he’s looking pretty dazed), when it happens.
(“Happy New Year,” Jimin slurred, when the clock struck twelve.
“It’s the twenty-first, moron.”
“Twenty-third, Yoongi,” Seokjin corrected.
“Fuck.”)
Since Hoseok’s vague prophecy hours before, there have been exactly three kisses under the mistletoe: the first, when Jungkook had gone to the bathroom to wash his hands and Jimin waited for him right under it, throwing an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder and planting a huge one on his cheek when he stepped out. (“Why not his lips?” “My love for Jungkookie is pure, Hoseok-hyung.”) The second, when Namjoon went to follow Seokjin to his room to help him find the Wii game everyone suddenly wanted to play, and Hoseok frantically pointed them out as soon as they stepped underneath it. Namjoon cursed as Seokjin shrugged, humoring their audience with a peck on the lips that had Namjoon sputtering. The third, and inarguably the best, when Taehyung found himself underneath it while holding the carton of eggnog he’d been drinking all night, and made a show of romancing it with his tongue. Nothing in the danger zone quite yet, which Yoongi was more than thankful for.
So when Jungkook shouts, “Seokjin-hyung!” and points in the direction of the mistletoe, Yoongi immediately understands what Hoseok had been on about earlier.
A more-than-a-little-tipsy Seokjin stands underneath the mistletoe with a trashed-beyond-repair Jimin, who looks up at the little plant hanging above them and says, “Oh, fuck.”
Yoongi’s eyes search for Hoseok’s across the apartment and their gazes meet, Hoseok winking at Yoongi with a smile, before looking back at his targets. The two may or may not have discussed in detail how obviously into each other Jin and Jimin were one or four times before. But who’s counting. (Hoseok probably is.)
Under the mistletoe, Seokjin says, “Um.”
Jimin says, “So…”
Jungkook groans, “I’m bored.”
Taehyung nods sleepily, “Me too.”
Namjoon whines, “I have to pee but they’re in the way.”
Yoongi wants all of them to shut up.
After what seems like three minutes of fumbling and awkward laughter, Seokjin finally leans down and pecks Jimin’s lips, soft and fleeting. Jimin’s drunk enough for a burst of courage, so he bounces on his heels and kisses Seokjin again, chaste, but longer still. They’re giggling when they break apart, smiles dumb and wide.
The rest of their friends cheer half-heartedly, and Yoongi’s sure he hears Taehyung snoring.
Yoongi looks over at Hoseok again, who is watching Seokjin and Jimin with his lips curled into a soft smile, rather than the overly-giddy one Yoongi had been expecting. He feels oddly dissatisfied.
*
It’s two thirty a.m. and everyone is passed out in various parts of the apartment, save for Yoongi. He had stopped drinking around midnight, before Seokjin and Jimin had kissed, so the effects of alcohol have already worn off, for the most part. Not much has happened since then, anyway; Taehyung had been dead to the world for hours, Namjoon had cried about an ex-girlfriend to Jungkook who drunkenly suggested they prank call her (Yoongi thinks they accidentally called a noodle shop across the street, instead), Jimin and Seokjin danced until they tired themselves out and fell asleep on the couch, huddled together, and Hoseok, well. Hoseok had been acting kind of strange the entire night, never in one place for too long. Laughing with Taehyung at one moment, playing a level of Super Smash Bros with Jungkook another, and whispering to Seokjin about something the next. Come to think of it, Yoongi hasn’t seen him at all in the past half hour, after Hoseok went to fetch more blankets for them during the second movie of their supposed marathon, which is still playing in the background.
Yoongi frowns, slowly getting up. He couldn’t have gone home, Yoongi would’ve noticed. He could’ve possibly gone to the bathroom, but for a half hour? Unlikely. Then where the hell…
It’s when Yoongi steps into his bedroom to change into his pajamas that he finds out.
Hoseok is sprawled over his bed, phone held above him as his fingers scroll through the screen. At the sound of someone entering, he bolts up. Upon seeing that it’s Yoongi, he relaxes, his grin sheepish in the darkness. “Hey.”
Of course. Yoongi should’ve known that Hoseok came in here to hide, after Jungkook suggested they watch a horror movie. He should’ve followed after Hoseok at the time, too, if his brain had put two and two together.
Now, Yoongi sits beside him on the bed, nudging Hoseok to scoot over so they could sit side-by-side. Hoseok obliges. “It wasn’t even that scary, you know. The CGI was terrible.”
Hoseok sniffs, defensive. “Who watches a horror movie during Christmas?”
“It was Christmas-based.”
“Fuck off, who does that? Ruining Santa’s image like that.”
Yoongi smiles. “But Santa wasn’t the bad guy, actually. It was one of his elves, who had grown power-hungry after being in Santa’s shadow for so long—he’s the one who’s been making all the toys for years and Santa’s been getting all the credit, you know? So the elf starts fucking with the toys; adding explosives and weapons and—”
“You’re making that up.”
Yoongi’s smile widens. “I am.”
Hoseok shoves him, but he’s smiling, too. “You’re so lame.”
“Says the one in the reindeer sweater.”
“Fair point. It’s cute, though.”
So are you. “So am I.”
Hoseok laughs, the back of his hand bumping against Yoongi’s. “Both are true.”
Oh, shit. Yoongi’s heart is doing that thing again. He doesn’t like it. He didn’t mean it like that, Yoongi, he does this with everyone, he—
“So did it happen?”
Hoseok frowns at him, confused. “Did what happen?”
“Your plan, or your mission with the mistletoe, whatever,” Yoongi’s looking at a poster on his wall, behind Hoseok’s head. He can barely make out its design in the darkness.
“Oh,” Hoseok says. “Well, you saw what happened with Jimin and Seok—”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He looks at Hoseok now, who looks back at him, eyes unreadable. A moment passes, two, three, before Hoseok responds, shaking his head and sighing.
“You always find new ways to amaze me, Yoongi-hyung.”
Yoongi doesn’t know what that means. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean…” Hoseok cuts himself off. “What do you want me to say?”
Yoongi hadn’t really thought of that, truthfully. He doesn’t know what he wants Hoseok to tell him, what he wants to hear. “I just—I don’t know? I was curious, maybe, but I guess it’s stupid—”
“Yoongi.”
Hoseok is much closer than before, the tip of his nose damn near brushing against Yoongi’s. It’s a wonder that Yoongi’s heart doesn’t give out on him.
“Hoseok?” He hopes his voice doesn’t sound as weak as he feels.
“It’s stupid?”
Yoongi looks from Hoseok’s eyes to his mouth. He swallows the knot in his throat. “Incredibly stupid.”
“How do you know?” Hoseok’s voice is soft, patient.
“I just…” Yoongi takes a deep breath. “I don’t.”
“And you don’t want to find out?”
Yoongi’s very sure they’re not talking about the mistletoe anymore. “What if I don’t like the answer?”
“Try me.”
So Yoongi does. He closes the space between them, hesitant lips finding Hoseok’s in the darkness. And when Hoseok opens his mouth against his, sighing into him, Yoongi knows he’s a goner.
For however long he’s dreamt of kissing Hoseok, none of his fantasies had come close to the real thing. Hoseok’s lips are soft against his, inviting; he kisses Yoongi back as if he’s done it for years, hands on either side of Yoongi’s face as he pushes him down onto the bed. Yoongi sinks into the mattress, his own hands finding Hoseok’s back as the other straddles his hips.
When Hoseok finally lets up to breathe, Yoongi’s mouth can’t help but try follow him, already feeling the loss. Hoseok dips down to peck him twice more; one on the lips, one on the side of his mouth. Then he sits up on Yoongi’s thighs.
“What…”
“Did that answer your question?”
Yoongi can’t feel his face, and his heart is racing. “Hoseok…”
“Kiss me again.”
Yoongi doesn’t have to be told twice. He sits up, far too quick and far too eager, and brings up a hand to cup Hoseok’s cheek. Hoseok’s arms wind around his neck as Yoongi leans in.
The kiss is shorter, this time. More of a taste than a real thing, with Hoseok pulling away to nip at Yoongi’s bottom lip almost as soon as it began. Fucking tease.
Hoseok laughs, and Yoongi snaps back to reality. “You’re pouting.”
“What?” Yoongi says, embarrassed. “I’m not.”
“It’s cute,” Hoseok reassures.
“You’re a tease,” Yoongi shoots back.
Hoseok laughs again, harder this time. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“What?”
“You’re the tease. And unpredictable. Letting the mistletoe go to waste, and all that.”
Yoongi is, at this point, very convinced that he’s dreaming. Not that he minds. “I’m not a tease, Hoseok. Just a dumbass.”
“That’s true.”
“Um,” Yoongi says, making a show of looking offended. “I can kick you out of my room right now.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Hoseok relents, twinkling eyes lighting up the room. “I’m sorry.”
“Good,” Yoongi nods. “Now can we go back to kissing, please?”
Hoseok responds by pushing Yoongi back into the bed. His smile so is fucking radiant that Yoongi’s amazed it doesn’t blind him.
“Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, fondly. “Merry Christmas, Hoseok.”
And so they kiss (and kiss and kiss and kiss) until they’re sleepy, and Hoseok presses himself against Yoongi’s back, breath tickling the hair at Yoongi’s ear.
Yoongi can only hope that Hoseok is still by his side when morning comes.
(He is.)
(He even gives Yoongi a proper kiss under the mistletoe when they eventually pull themselves out of bed, too.)