Work Text:
Plink, plink, plink, plink.
The sound of pearls meeting the parquet in a distorted chinking does almost as good of a job at startling Soobin out of his dozing stance as his likewise high-pitched alarm did that morning. His daughter's wails follow, muffled through the walls of the apartment but still clear as day to Soobin's trained ears.
Soobin's eyebrows draw together in confusion as he leaves his cup of coffee abandoned on the kitchen counter and skitters towards Chaein's bedroom to see what dares tear through the peace of this Thursday winter morning.
As his snowman slippers slither through the corridor, they catch on rolling pearls and jingling miniature bells, the yelling only intensifies, and when the noise of fabric tearing and seams ripping blends into the agitated background noise, Soobin knows to fear the worst.
Soobin comes to a halt in the doorframe to his daughter's room.
“What is-”
“Odi, let go! That's mine!”
Chaein's small hands are gripping the fabric of her reindeer costume with a force that has Soobin grit his teeth, and he wants to clasp his hands over his ears when sharp teeth and saliva yank at the other side of the piece of clothing with even greater force and challenging determination.
More seams burst and the tear in the fabric only ruptures further like an earthquake wrenching the soil open.
The Dalmatian is clearly winning the battle of strengths, and before Soobin can think of opening his mouth to put his sister's dog in his place, he jerks his new chew toy back once more, shredding it, and Soobin cringes at the sound.
Chaein falls over and her grip on the costume loosens, which seems to be enough for Odi to consider himself the winner of their game of tug of war, as he lets the costume fall out of his now slack jaw and land on the floor with a squelsh where his saliva has soaked into the brown fabric.
Chaein is quick to crawl over to her costume and scramble it up in her lap, plump tears toppling over her cheeks as she takes in its shredded state.
Odi pricks his ears upon hearing her cries and senses Soobin’s distressed steps approaching. Sensible enough to catch the tilt in the atmosphere, he retreats out of the room with his tail dropping behind in bummer.
“Dad! Odi destroyed my costume!” Chaein cries as Soobin crouches in front of her and rakes his fingers through her hair. With a mute panic settling into his own stomach, Soobin gulps, unsure what to offer in consolation and how to cheer her up without lying to her and risking an even greater crisis backlashing later on.
The truth is, the state of her reindeer costume is quite frankly, disastrous, and the performance for the holiday pageant is in a few hours, which is a an even greater disaster.
Soobin takes a deep breath and lets his hands ghost over his daughter's head, his fingers brushing through her long hair and catching on the knots that he’s yet to entangle after a night worth of fighting alongside her favourite heroes in her sleep.
“Oh sweetie, I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose. He probably thought you were playing with him,” Soobin tries, figuring that it's not the time to remind her of how often he already attested that giving in is always the smarter option when it comes to involuntary matches with this dog, because Odi would never admit defeat.
“My costume…” Chaein whimpers and holds the shredded fabric out to Soobin like he hasn't long since assessed the extent of the damage and concluded that he will have to come up with an idea to fix this fast.
“It's okay, baby, it's papa's free day, remember? I was going to tinker your mask today anyways, so I can also work on repairing your costume while I'm at it,” Soobin assures and rubs his palm over his daughter's back, smoothing out the crinkles that have longed themselves into the fabric of her rose-checkered pyjamas.
Chaein wipes the sleeves over her glassy eyes, and sniffles once more, pupils darting between Soobin and the sad lump of a battered reindeer in her arms.
“But grandma is away and your're… gawky.”
The adorable pout of Chaein's lips doesn't quite match the affront in her words, and Soobin chokes on a laugh.
“Who said that?” Soobin huffs a nervous chuckle.
“Grandma… auntie… even my tutor said that after we made the lanterns for the St. Martin's parade together back at daycare.”
Chaein crosses her arms over her chest as Soobin scratches the back of his neck where he feels the heat spread into his ears.
His lack of fine motor skills and butterfingers have always called for the more crafty members of his family to help with (adopt and complete) his art projects all throughout his school career, but his five-year-old daughter calling him out on it and making it out as something that’s identifiable from across the street is somewhat humbling still.
“I got this. You trust me, right?”
Soobin plucks the costume out of Chaein's hands and stretches out of his crouched position. The pout on Chaein's lips draws into a smile as she nods along, Soobin's false confidence rubbing off on her.
She takes Soobin's outstretched hands who discards the costume on a chair in the hallway and leads her into the bathroom where he helps her get ready for the day.
𐂂
Unfortunately, there’s a good reason as to why Soobin kept his nose out of the arts and crafts of sewing and designing his daughter's costume and left all the fun to his mother whose place Chaein has spent the better part of the last weeks at to assemble her guise for the Christmas performance.
Witty and nagging as Chaein is, she imposed the noble honour of decorating her reindeer mask on him (corresponding her visionary drawing of what it shall like in the end), and Soobin figured that that’s just about as much as he can shoulder.
So there is no way he is pulling out the spare key to his parents’ apartment and teaching himself how to handle the sewing machine in his mother's study. Repairing the costume has to be a quick process – he can’t risk having to play the ER a visit because he sewed his fingers together and got a needle stuck in his palm – and he already lost too much time on dropping Chaein off at preschool and walking Odi to his sister's after the latter had spent the night driving their parents to the airport where they would leave for the surprise trip she and Soobin have booked for them in honor of their silver wedding.
They were heartbroken upon hearing that they would be out of town for Chaein's performance, but Soobin assured them that he would send them lots of pictures and videos.
With his mother as the knight in shining armor falling away as an option, Soobin has to come up with an emergency plan, so he takes the bus into the city center and seeks out the local tailor, which proves to be less of a rescuing matter than he hoped.
“Sir, I'm very sorry but with all due respect, it's two days before Christmas, the workload is deranged here as it is anywhere else, and we can't possibly look after your request until later in the afternoon.”
The woman behind the counter flashes him a wry smile like she isn’t sure what reaction her words are about to coax out of Soobin.
Soobin’s heart drops into his stomach and pounds against the costume he’s holding pressed close against himself. Lips drawn into a flat line, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and counts through all the options he has left. Which is a quick process, because his last one has just been nullified.
“Of course, that's… understandable.” Soobin sighs and glances over at the shelf with magazines and books – there are plenty on the first steps to sewing or introductions to different materials and how to work on them – but there’s no way, not in this life.
“Thank you, and merry Christmas.”
The woman draws her eyebrows up in sympathy and returns Soobin's wishes.
Soobin turns around and shuffles back the way he came, stuffing the battered costume back into the tote bag he grabbed in his hurry with clumsy fingers. A few pearls that have stayed lodged in the folds of the brown fabric up until now tumble out in the process and hit the laminate with the same high-pitched chinking as this morning.
Soobin doesn't even know where they keep coming from – did Chaein and his mother thread a string of pearls long enough for it to wind around her like holiday lights around a Christmas tree?
Soobin ignores the attention that the plinking pearls must have gotten him with warm cheeks and bends down to gather at least the beads that haven't long since rolled under the shelves of the shop in his palm hand before he scurries towards the exit.
His hand is already on the door handle, the bell above the entrance about to chim with his parting, when he's stopped by a light tap on his shoulder.
“Hi, uhm, I think you dropped this.”
When Soobin turns around, he's met with a pair of sharp eyes glancing up at him, warm and forthcoming and maybe a little shy around the edges where a nervous chuckle folds the outer corners into soft lines.
A flustered noise escapes Soobin's throat. “Oh, thanks.”
Soobin's eyes jump between the man's face and the red plastic bead and bell-shaped pearl laying in his palm before he opens up his own to accept the two pearls, but his counterpart doesn't turn around like that's all he approached Soobin for.
“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, sorry, but I overheard your conversation just now.”
He nods his head towards the tote bag slung over Soobin's shoulder.
“Oh, yeah. There's was a small… pet mishap this morning.” Soobin shrugs and rubs the back of his neck to ease away the tired stiffness.
He took the day off, so he would have enough time to dream up Chaein's mask and still have a few hours on his hands to get through some chores around the house and wrap his daughter's Christmas presents while she is at preschool.
But now he is stuck because the worst-case scenario came true, the sand is trickling through the hourglass, and Chaein will be devastated.
“I’m told I have a knack for handiwork if you'd like some help?”
Soobin's head jerks up in surprise.
“Except you already worked something out. Then I'm sorry for bothering you.”
Soobin shakes his head eagerly.
“I'm Yeonjun, by the way.” Yeonjun holds his hand out for Soobin to take, and Soobin lets the pearls in his palm drop into the pocket of his jacket before doing so.
“I'm Soobin and no– no, that was my last option. I'm at a bit of a loss here, so I'm open to any ideas.”
The dark strands of Yeonjun's hair frame his face and reach down the nape of his neck, curling at the ends in a way Soobin can't tell if it's done on purpose or the aftermath of the falling snow melding into the dark locks – it suits him either way, Soobin finds.
He is dressed in a thick jacket, fur peeking out from underneath his collar and the sleeves, and Soobin catches a glimpse of the bilious green piece of clothing slung over his forearm.
“A costume, too?” Soobin asks with a light cuckle, because the colourful blotches scattered over it look an awful lot like Christmas ornaments.
“Yeah, holiday pageant and all. The costume was too loose so we had it tailored.”
Yeonjun offers Soobin an appreciative nod as he walks through the door that Soobin is holding open for him.
“My daughter wanted to be the tree of all things. She tends to get a little nervous about performing in front of an audience and her logic was that animals are cute, so everyone will pay attention to them instead of her,” Yeonjun continues with a kind of sparkle in his eyes that speaks of care and devotion the way only parenthood can bring forth.
“I'm not sure her plan will work out with how colourful and sparkling she will be,” Soobin retorts as they trudge through the snow on the sidewalk.
“My little one's favourite movie is Bambi, so she jumped at the opportunity to dress up as a deer. I initially took the day off to make her mask, not to concern myself with finding a way to fix up the entire costume at the last minute.” Soobin strangles a deflecting huff in the back of his throat and rakes his fingers through his damp hair, the snowflakes pricking his palm and melting against it.
“I'm sure we can make this work somehow.” Yeonjun smiles at Soobin, and his plump, cherry-curved lips curl up and deepen the cold-dusted apples of his cheeks.
Soobin's lashes flutter in an attempt to sever his gaze from Yeonjun – he's attractive, Soobin can see as much, and the fact that he approached a stranger just to hand him some stupid children's beads and because he saw the lost, stressed state he was in, isn't helping his chase on bit.
Soobin is always told he is too kind and devoted for his own good, and being caught on the other side of the matter makes him feel some type of way – a warm flutter inside his chest that reaches into his gut and tempers the queasiness there.
“What's the game plan then?” Soobin asks, as it dawns on him that they have been walking just for the sake of walking for a while, with no real destination or objective whatsoever.
“We could sit down in a café, take a look at the damage, and see how we can fix it. I have a sewing machine at home but we might need some fabric or thread depending on what you want it to look like in the end,” Yeonjun suggests and points at the small café across the street – it seems deserted enough, the thick warmth of cinnamon and coffee ground already dripping through the air now that Soobin pays attention to it.
“Sounds good. I need a plain mask from the crafts shop anyhow,” Soobin agrees and presses the button for the traffic light to turn green for them.
As they sit down in the café and give up their orders – a chai latte for Yeonjun and a cappuccino for him – Soobin briefly reflects on how little time and words it takes them to work through the necessary logistics and how fast they drift into other subjects of conversation instead.
Soobin learns that Yeonjun has just about everything Soobin expected to go on their list of errands at home already, and that he not only has a knack for handiwork but is also quick-witted and gifted with a creative eye. He suggests sewing together the larger and more blemished tears and patching up wearied and bitten spots as well as potential not so neat repairs with cut-out fabric stars.
Soobin can only nod along, essentially dumbfounded and disbelieving of just how much luck he was granted.
What Soobin is trying not to spend too much time thinking about is that a practical stranger – a very attractive stranger with a laugh and an air of kindness that is to die for – is inviting him into his home to help him with this unlucky mishap solely out of the goodness of his heart.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Soobin deems it too good to be true, but as he lets his eyes drift over the falling snow outside and the content smiles of the pedestrians walking by, huddled in layers of warmth and most of them carrying around bags and packages, he can't help but acknowledge the cordial and affectionate air of Christmas engulfing the world despite the stresses it occasionally (steadily) brings.
The festive lights plastered to the windows of the café are a blurred glowing in his peripheral, reflecting on the platings of passing cars and in the excited glow of Yeonjun's eyes as he talks, and Soobin wonders why he allowed for so much of the winter – and the holiday season especially – to pass before he permitted himself to slow down for a bit and revel in the coziness and magic it brought.
Soobin pays for their drinks despite Yeonjun’s protests, and they head out to sweep through the arts and crafts stores in town.
𐂂
Their shopping list isn’t long, so Soobin and Yeonjun manage to go through it in a timely manner.
Soobin fumbles with the bag in his hands as he waits for Yeonjun to unlock the door to his apartment, and as it eventually swings open, Soobin is met with warmth and morning laziness hanging in the air.
“Sorry for the mess, Hyerin said she wants to continue her project after preschool today, so I let her get away without cleaning up last night,” Yeonjun hums as he makes a beeline for the window and allows some fresh air in. Soobin thinks of stopping him – this air of sleepy children's dreams and blanket-covered cuddles is a welcome contrast to the frosty wind outside.
It's not messy. Just the right amount of homely disorder that doesn't leave the place looking ghastly and clinical, but Soobin guesses that since becoming a parent, it has become somewhat of a default comment whenever guests step through the door – Soobin has all but fallen victim to it, too.
He proceeds to take his shoes off instead and takes a look around the hallway. The walls are adorned with pictures of Yeonjun and his daughter and either variations of them alone or with their respective friends.
Soobin risks a glance towards the door where Yeonjun disappeared through but finds he's nowhere to be seen and gets on his tiptoes to take a closer look at one of the pictures with Yeonjun and his daughter in its center. A smile tugs at the corners of Soobin’s lips as he spots that while they don't necessarily look alike, they both bear the same air of contentment, lips spreading into a grin that tugs their eyes into crescents and swallows their faces whole.
Soobin then makes his way over to the living room, too, and sets his bag down one of the chairs while Yeonjun shuffles back and forth to bring new additions of materials to the dining table.
Yeonjun fobs him off and signals him to take seat when Soobin offers to help, so he does and fills the two glasses on the table with the water Yeonjun brings along with the forth carton of pens and other craft stuff.
Soobin nips at the glass of water with the tips of his ears burning as Yeonjun’s long legs stride through the living room, the sleeves of his sweater pushed past his elbows and his hair ruffled with dried snow and long fingers jumping to brush it out of his face whenever he lifts himself out of a crouched position. The beige sweater clinches around and hugs Yeonjun's waist whenever he bends down and crawls between the shelves of the cupboards in search for whatever, and Soobin wills himself to look away – the fact that he hasn't caught someone standing as close to Yeonjun as a partner would in any of the pictures isn’t helping either.
“Seriously, I don't know how to thank you, Yeonjun,” Soobin mumbles and looks up at Yeonjun with a touched tilt in his eyes when the other finally joins him by the table.
“Don't mention it,” Yeonjun dodges and inspects the costume lying spread out in their middle once more. “I'd say we get working on cutting out the stars first?”
Soobin hums in agreement and watches as Yeonjun reaches for the yellow fabric they bought earlier and a pencil that quickly glides over the frizzy surface with trained agility. Sharp lines quickly come together to form a star that Yeonjun holds up with a proud smile on his face to show it off.
The costume won't look the same as before, that much is clear as day, but Soobin hopes that Chaein will be content with the result all the same – Soobin left half of the pearls disregarded on the parquet back at home and probably lost most of the other half throughout the day, meaning that this detail, they won't be able to recreate anyhow.
But as many demands and as full of insisting ideas Chaein may be, she has always been an understanding kid and was quick to appreciate when someone put in an effort to make her happy. Soobin would make up for the altered version of her costume by designing the mask to her exact liking and imagination, as she had handed him a drawing of her wished outcome the other day.
Soobin reaches for a pencil himself and peeks at Yeonjun's star as a reference as he draws his own star shape.
The result leaves him scrunching his face up in dissatisfaction – wobbly lines intersecting in five separate spikes but all meating at different angles and leaving the star looking crooked and rumpled – and Soobin glances back and forth between Yeonjun's star and his own with scrutinising eyes, trying to find out where he went wrong – except, it seems he never went right anywhere.
As Yeonjun notices Soobin’s halting – he himself already busied with drawing his fourth star – he takes a look at what Soobin has created and chokes on a laugh that he tries to keep in the ducts of his throat, miserably so.
“Sorry,” Yeonjun sputters and covers his shit-eating grin with the palm of his hand as he walks around the table and looks over Soobin's shoulder.
“Haha,” Soobin deadpans, “I know.”
He rolls his eyes but the corners of his mouth are already far up in his cheeks. “How are you even so good at this?”
Yeonjun's other hand comes to rest on the high of Soobin's back as he flashes him an encouraging smile.
“Practice makes perfect. I do stuff like this everyday.”
Yeonjun shrugs and takes the seat next to Soobin this time before reaching for a piece of cardboard and drawing yet another star on it – it was almost annoying how easily it rolled off Yeonjun's long, delicate fingers. “Use this as a stencil.”
“What do you mean, you do this everyday?” Soobin questions and takes the cardboard from Yeonjun's grip.
He looks around the table for a pair of scissors but Yeonjun is already holding it out to him before Soobin even manages to lay eyes on them between the piles of odds and ends.
“I’m an occupational therapist,” Yeonjun says. “I work mostly with children with conditions such as ADHD or autism, and stuff like sensory integration therapy or helping them improve fine and gross motor skills, strengthening hand-eye-coordination or their concentration span and attentiveness as a whole plays a big part in my work.”
Soobin's eyes wander over Yeonjun's face, the soft lines of his lips and the warmth in the amber of his eyes – so judgemental-free and open despite having an adult sitting in front of him likely with considerably less talent and fine-motor skills than the better part of his patients.
It amazes Soobin just how well it suits Yeonjun, so he tells him just that, and Yeonjun blushes a deep red, even the palm on Soobin's back heating up until the sensation reaches through the fabric.
“Sorry for forcing you to spend your free day much the same like any other workday then,” Soobin chuckles although there’s some truth to it – to say he's grateful to the extent that he can't help but feel indebted and with a string of guilt twisting his insides would be understatement. He has to find a way to make it up to Yeonjun.
Yeonjun shakes his head and rubs Soobin's back before retreating his hand.
“Don't be silly.” Yeonjun says because of course he does.
They fall into a comfortable state of engagement and chatter after that, both of them occupied with their respective tasks.
After all the stars are cut out, Soobin starts working on the face mask as he knows that he will need some time to get used to working and gluing on fabric, and Yeonjun turns the sewing machine on to reverse the damage and mangling the costume was subjected to earlier in the morning.
Soobin places his phone with Chaein’s drawing flashing back at him down on the table and searches his materials together. Her vision is clear and sophisticated – she wants gold freckles and white swirls on her face that look more like those of a tiger than of a reindeer, but Soobin isn't one to refuse.
Yeonjun glances at the screen with curious eyes.
“She didn't get the artistic eye from me, that's for sure,” Soobin offers and concentrates on the glue-gun in his hands, hot liquid dripping out of the tip and smearing over the fabric of the mask.
After trying to get the rhinestones to stick with craft glue alone without success, Soobin turned to the glue-gun, and now Yeonjun is sending him wary glances from time to time. He already commented that if Soobin were to burn himself, he could only offer him band aids with princess or ladybug prints on them.
“Does she draw a lot with her other parent?” Yeonjun asks as Soobin sets the glue-gun down and presses a gold rhinestone between the reindeers eyes and a red cotton ball on its nose.
“No, her mother left us when she was just a few months old,” Soobin retorts and stretches his arms over his head as he straightens up from his crouched position and leans against the backrest of the chair. “Met another man. Said she didn't feel ready to settle down and have a family anymore. Wanted to see the world all of a sudden.”
Yeonjun offers him a sympathetic smile and nods in understanding. “I'm sorry to hear that. How is she dealing with that?”
“She doesn't remember her mother, but she has started asking questions about why everyone else has a mom and a dad lately,” Soobin answers truthfully. “I'm trying to give her truthful answers but I'm afraid it's something that she won't understand fully until she's older.”
Soobin feels Yeonjun's attentive gaze ghost over the side of his face, so he isn't surprised to find his eyes locking into his when he turns in his direction.
“But I think she's confused and curious about it rather than sad, and that's kind of reassuring.”
“You're a great dad, of course, she doesn't feel like something is missing,” Yeonjun smiles and Soobin wants to recoil under the warm shaft of his gaze, so exposing and knowing – like understanding and loving is an integrated part of Yeonjun's soul that he would never hesitate to wear on his sleeves.
It shoots a suspicious warmth into Soobin's head and stirs his gut into something fluttering and giddy.
“You're too sweet,” Soobin mutters, eyes shining with appreciation. There's a long moment in which Soobin can only look at Yeonjun and take the sight of him in.
“And you?” Yeonjun then asks, and while Soobin's eyebrows draw together in confusion for a second, his reaction quickly shifts into an amused huff, something teasing clinging to his voice.
“I thought this was your free day. Stop trying to get me to mope around while doing my arts and crafts. I'm having the time of my life over here,” Soobin beams and holds both his palms up to show off the streaks of white gel pen and a ridiculous amount of sequins and rhinestones sticking to them.
“If you say so.” Yeonjun shrugs but the easy smile on his plush lips betrays his amusement as he gets back to threading the needle through the brown fabric of the costume where he wants the stars to cover any evidence of the accident.
He discarded the sewing machine some while ago after the greater damage was taken care of and switched to doing the patching up by hand.
“It’s not ideal, but I'm okay,” Soobin assures despite himself, because he is, most of the time.
It stings from time to time – naturally, obviously – the ache of having been left after all these shared years and his watchlist full of engagement rings, the convenience and routine that was thrown down the drain, the doubts resulting from becoming a single parent somewhat overnight – it's not easy, but it’s bearable, and Soobin knows that it's better than having someone around who feels obligated to stay despite wishing nothing more than to flee.
The conflict and burden would slip through the cracks one way or another, and he would rather be alone than having someone around who can't love him without thinking about all the things they're missing out on just because they're tied to loyalty and responsibilities – not speaking of keeping someone around who doesn't love their – his – daughter the way she deserves.
“How about you? Do you have someone?” Soobin can't help but ask.
Now that the topic has been scratched open he might as well disclose whether he can permit himself to pay the giddy stirring in his gut and the warm fuzz in his chest any mind.
Yeonjun works through his last set of stitches before shaking his head.
“I was with another man for many, many years, and while we had talked about the possibility of starting a family before, he always argued that it was either too soon or that the timing wasn't right whenever I brought it up. I was getting tired of being put off all the time and maybe even a little impatient, too. It was time to come clear, so I sat him down.”
Yeonjun offers him a smile that's all cheeks rather than the corners of his mouth drawing upwards. Soobin thinks he can conjecture the rest of the story himself but remains silent.
“I left him afterwards and signed the adoption papers not even a week later.”
“That must have been a hard decision,” Soobin hums, hardly snapping out of the admiring, downright floored way his eyes were boring into Yeonjun.
“It was. But I knew what I wanted and that I would have regretted not going through with it for the rest of my life.”
Yeonjun shrugs like it's nothing when Soobin knows that it's in fact, everything.
“I'm glad you followed your heart.”
Yeonjun smiles and mouths something that looks a lot like me too, and Soobin turns his attention back towards the deer mask in front of him.
“Who would help me fix my daughter's costume right now if you hadn't?”
The sound of Yeonjun's clear, bright laugh fills the room again, and Soobin doesn't know where the rumble of his own laugh in his chest and the trembling rhythm of his heart starts and where it ends.
Silence falls back upon them and plunges the air in a peaceful state of coexistence.
That is, until Yeonjun's excited announcement that he has finished blurts past his lips and startles Soobin's clumsy fingers.
The small glitter container that Soobin was in the middle of twisting the lid off slips out of his hands and crashes onto the table before rolling over the edge and sprinkling the rest of its flashy gold-hued continents on Soobin's lap.
“Oops, sorry,” Yeonjun snorts, and Soobin doesn't even have time to feel bad about getting glitter all over Yeonjun’s floor and carpet because Yeonjun is already by his side.
“Wait, don't move.”
He sweeps his hands over Soobin's shoulders and arms and tries to catch the fluttering glitter particles in his palm, so they don't rain to the floor with Soobin’s shifting.
Soobin doesn't think it's all that efficient, as it only compels both of them to sneeze and shake with laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, but Soobin can't bring himself to tease Yeonjun about it and suggests he brings a vacuum cleaner right away instead either.
Yeonjun is leaning over him, dark locks brushing over the side of Soobin's neck and dusting his skin a coral warmth where Yeonjun's breathy chuckles trace over his haywire nerves. A whiff of Yeonjun's perfume overtakes Soobin's senses for a brief moment, his heart picking up at the welcome mix of Yeonjun’s warmth and the subtle scent underlining it.
A shiver runs over Soobin's spine, warm and electrifying, and he can't help but wonder whether Yeonjun is doing it on purpose or if he just is the charismatic, open type whose actions naturally get mistaken for flirting and a tad too touchy to be appropriate between strangers.
When Yeonjun's eyes glance up and he finds Soobin staring back at him, Soobin decides that he doesn't care, because the flush in the high of his cheeks pulsates in his ears and his temples as he realises that Yeonjun's hands have stopped brushing his clothes clean but have come to rest on the exposed patch of skin where Soobin's neck meets his shoulder – where his vein throbs like it's trying to burst out of his skin.
Yeonjun's fingers are delicate yet coarse where they brush over Soobin's neck. He knows that none of the glitter particles floated there – the glitter clinging to Yeonjun's hands is grazing over his skin where he drags his fingers over the side of Soobin's neck, and it sends another shiver down his spine.
Except for his hands, Yeonjun is still clean of the glitter mess, but not for much longer because Soobin's palm comes up to cup the side of his face, fingers burying into the hair at the back of Yeonjun’s neck and his thumb brushing over the hint of stubble at the base of his jaw.
The layers of brown in Yeonjun's eyes swirl wide and sprinkle with something inquiring as they drift over every inch of Soobin's face, his breath fanning over Soobin's lips – flushed and swiff, a sizzling cloud taking up the space between them – while Soobin himself doubts he's breathing at all.
When the wreck finally thaws out of his muscles and he shifts out of his frozen position, Soobin thinks he sees the trembling glitter reflect in Yeonjun's gaze, the low rays of the winter sun catching on the participles and mirroring behind his eyes like thousands of tiny sequins.
The hand cupping Soobin's jaw is stiff, and Soobin feels the tremor clinging to the muscles there, a gentle shake against his own throbbing heartbeat – almost like Yeonjun is thinking about tipping Soobin's chin up to bridge the last silver of distance but doesn't know how. His burning stare is still trailing from Soobin's eyes to his lips and back up, and it’s just a moment's hesitation between the intention in his head and willing his bones to move accordingly.
But Soobin already beats him to it.
The sparkling dust Yeonjun worked so diligently on brushing from Soobin's clothes and scooping into his cupped palm drifts to the floor and joins the heap already forming there when he relaxes under a faint sigh and brings his other hand to prop himself up on the armrest of the chair as Soobin pulls him closer.
Soobin feels like a teenager again, this wild thrill of excitement and the intoxicating dizziness an embarrassing exaggeration considering the amount of people he has kissed and done a lot more with before in his life.
But Soobin isn't one to complain – not when Yeonjun's lips are a soft cloud against his own and his fingers drag over his sides where he is painstakingly holding himself up on Soobin's seat.
Yeonjun is kissing him in the perfect harmony of demanding and giving, and Soobin feels his insides coming undone and shivering in protest when Yeonjun pulls away.
Yeonjun remains hovering close, a smile circling his lips, and Soobin lets go of his face and allows his hand to trace over Yeonjun's shoulder and arm until he finds his fingers still clutching the armrest.
“Great, now the glitter really is all over the floor,” Soobin chuckles.
“And over you, too,” Yeonjun retorts with an amused snort as he straightens out of his crouched position.
Soobin’s body follows like the opposing pole to Yeonjun's magnet, and he sits up straighter too, craning his neck to meet Yeonjun's eyes who is towering over him and leaning against the table.
Yeonjun wipes his glittering palm on his pants and reaches out to brush his fingers over the side of Soobin's face as though it would do anything to rid Soobin's skin of the glitter particles clinging to it – especially when Yeonjun's hands are still far from bare themselves.
“Likewise,” Soobin grins, and as he stands up, more gold dust rains to the floor.
“I'm so sorry for the mess. Where's your vacuum cleaner?”
Yeonjun is still wearing that dreamy look on his face, the gold along the edges of his face highlighting the warm complexion of his skin all the more and rendering him nothing short of pretty, blissfully so.
“Don't worry about it, I'll clean up later,” Yeonjun dismisses, and Soobin is about to protest that leaving him to clean up on his own is the last thing he will approve of after having abused his kindness and magical hands all day already, but Yeonjun is faster.
“I don't mean to kick you out but I gotta leave to pick my daughter up from preschool now. Let's just quickly make ourselves look presentable and get going.”
Soobin searches the pockets of his jeans for his phone when the implication of Yeonjun's words sinks in, scrambling for a clock because if Yeonjun has to go, he must be late, too.
“Shit, me too. How is it so late already,” Soobin grumbles and starts sorting loose pens and other decoratives into their respective containers with frantic hands.
Yeonjun folds the repaired costume and stacks the sparkling mask on top before laying a gentle hand on Soobin’s shoulder.
“I'll drive you.”
“Yeonjun…” Soobin faces him with complaint and defeat in his eyes, so undeserving and yet so spoiled with his kindness.
“Shush, no buts. I'll drive you.”
Yeonjun brushes a glitter speck from underneath Soobin's eye away but Soobin still thinks he just smears more of the dust from all over his hands on his face in the process – and if Yeonjun is touching him just because, just for the sake of feeling him, Soobin wouldn't dare complain.
Soobin names Yeonjun the address just in case Yeonjun decides it's too large of a detour and Soobin is faced with the brutal ordeal of sprinting to his daughter's preschool after all.
“Wait… my daughter goes to the same preschool.”
Yeonjun tilts his head to the side, eyes sparking with equal parts confusion and amusement.
“I've never seen you around.”
Soobin takes a moment to think, to recall catching any flash of Yeonjun's face when he has dropped Chaein off in the past, but doesn't find anything – and that face of his, he knows he would have remembered.
“I usually drop her off first thing in the morning. She always complains about being the first one,” Soobin chuckles, shoulders shaking with a shrug. “My sister then picks her up most days since I can't make it work with my job otherwise.”
“Yeah, Hyerin and I are both really good at delaying the waking up part until the very last moment most days.”
Yeonjun turns around with a laugh and walks over to where he left his shoes, though deciding on a stopover at the sink when he sees the state his hands are in.
Their jackets cover most of the glitter disaster, but Soobin still catches scattered specks of gold on Yeonjun's face and along his jaw but decides not to tell him about it as they head out.
𐂂
“Dad!”
Chaein comes running up to him and wraps her small arms around his neck when Soobin bends down to greet her.
Another girl is close on her heels and presses herself against Yeonjun's chest.
“Why are you so sparkly?” Chaein asks with her brows furrowed when she lets go of him and gives him a once-over with that scrutinising gaze Soobin's sister swears she picked up from him after he brought work home and had to grapple with an especially dire and tiring project in her presence last year.
“Well, Yeonjun right here and I worked on repairing your costume all day,” Soobin hums and reaches into his bag when Chaein squeaks and repeats that she wants to see it over and over again, all dimples and smiles, and Soobin can only hope that it stays like that when she sees the adjustments Yeonjun and he had to make.
Soobin pulls the costume out of the bag all the way, and it folds up with a whiff of gold swirling through the air as he holds it by the shoulders and waits for Chaein's reaction.
Soobin lets out a relieved sigh when she starts bouncing and squealing in excitement. The reindeer costume is quickly ripped out of Soobin's hands as Chaein hugs it close and cherishes it with a kind of fondness in her eyes that makes Soobin's heart melt.
Soobin startles at the elbow coming to bump into his side and glances at Yeonjun who’s wearing a satisfied smile on his lips. Soobin bumps back against him in response and offers him an appreciating smile, though his eyes get caught on his plush lips.
Soobin should have known that Yeonjun would catch the slip in his demeanour and be more subtle, but there's still this rest of intoxicated frenzy and bubbling affection in his stomach and he can't bring himself to pay the teasing, almost warning tilt of Yeonjun's lips any mind – especially not when the girls are all but preoccupied with counting the stars on the reindeers fur.
“Do you two know each other?” Yeonjun asks, picking up on the comfortable exchange between their girls and how natural it came to Chaein to turn to Hyerin to show her costume off.
“Of course! Hyerin always helps me draw better. She is the best at drawing in the entire world, her pictures are all so pretty,” Chaein beams and wraps an arm around Hyerin’s shoulder, swaying and tilting before both of them regain their balance through a fit of giggles.
Hyerin’s eyes swirl with timid pride at Chaein's words, and Soobin catches the same flattered purse of her lips that he has seen on Yeonjun throughout the day.
Soobin cocks his head in Yeonjun's directions, knowing and keen, but Yeonjun is too absorbed to pick up on it, all pride and affection to see a part of himself sprouting in his own child. Maybe he does notice nonetheless, because he shuffles a little closer and leans his head against Soobin's shoulder as they observe their daughters’ thrilled exchange (some movie the children's channel played the day before that they both watched before bed.)
Soobin and Yeonjun let them to chatter for a little longer until a tinge of blue creeps into the corners of their mouths, and they decide it’s time to go, the faint drizzle of snow threatening to turn into a full blown ice bath and seep into their necks and through their puffer jackets any minute from now.
“See you at the performance later then?” Yeonjun asks after beckoning Hyerin into the car.
Soobin almost let himself be convinced to hop back into the passenger seat and be chauffeured home, but he manages to convince Yeonjun that the walk to his apartment isn't far and that it will be a pleasant change of scenery considering he only ever crossed this stretch in the car on his way to work.
“Yeah, see you,” Soobin hums and hugs Yeonjun close before allowing him to drive off, the warm fuzz in his chest still cotton to his thoughts and senses so much so that he almost ends up walking past his front door if it weren't for Chaein’s confused arguing as he intends to drag their intertwined fingers further down the street.
𐂂
Later at the holiday pageant, just minutes before the performance is said to begin, Yeonjun's figure flops down into the seat next to Soobin’s and smiles at him from the side, a whiff of flowery shampoo encircling Soobin's senses.
His dark hair is damp in places and fuzzy from the humidity outside in others, and yet, Soobin catches a glittering twinkle in the depth of his cheeks as his face lights up when the lights go out and the curtains open.
The performance is little dialogue and a lot of dancing and singing to carols that are bound to remain stuck in Soobin's head until way after Christmas.
Whenever their daughter's appear on stage, Soobin and Yeonjun clap the loudest, and after Yeonjun complains that he left his phone in the car, Soobin begins to pull his own out and start a recording whenever it’s Hyerin’s turn to, as expected, do a little more than just being a requisite tree like she's one of his own.
Yeonjun clasps his palm over his mouth when Chaein turns around for the first time and they notice one half of a star flopping loosely and freely from her back.
Yeonjun looks at Soobin like he's waiting for a reaction, guilt written all over his face, but Soobin can only cuckle, which allows Yeonjun to deflate and break out in a fit of hushed giggles himself.
He buries his head in Soobin's shoulder, the warmth of his cheeks upon noticing this mishap reaching through the fabric of Soobin's shirt.
The performance goes on for another while, and just as the last Christmas song fades out – one last all too known charol that the parents in the crowd have been asked to join in for – Soobin catches Yeonjun's sniffling next to him.
Soobin's own eyes glisten a misty affection at seeing his little girl all grown up and enjoying her time on stage and bringing forth an act that Soobin has not once been allowed to have his hand in.
The corners of Soobin's lips curl with a cooing smile when Yeonjun wipes the touched moisture from his cheeks.
Soobin's fingers reach out to curl around Yeonjun’s hand and he brings their intertwined palms into his lap.
Yeonjun's eyes light up with surprise, but it quickly melts into something tender and earnest.
Their hands only let go of one another to offer their applause at the end of the performance, but Soobin has long since found the stray gold-dusted glitter flecks under Yeonjun's fingernails and in the lifelines of his palm.
𐂂
Yeonjun and Soobin wait by the exit of the hall for their girls to get changed and return from the backstage area, already picturing their elated grins and charged high knee skips appearing in their field of vision any moment.
“Yeonjun?” Soobin waits for him to utter a questioning hum before continuing,
“I know you said I shouldn't bother, but I would really like to make up for what you did for me today.”
Soobin drags the tips of his fingers over the back of Yeonjun's hand until Yeonjun locks the hold into place. At first, Yeonjun looks like he wants to protest, lips already ajar and pondering, but changes his mind and instead nods as an indication for Soobin to go on.
“Would the two of you like to spend Christmas with us?” Soobin asks and watches the shift in Yeonjun's face with a hopeful tilt in his eyes.
They have talked about their plans for Christmas before – somewhere between sitting across from each other at the café and entering Yeonjun's apartment Soobin can't remember exactly.
But he recalls Yeonjun's prospect of a familial Christmas evening being of equal vacantness as his. Something about his parents living far away and having long since purchased tickets for some sort of classical concert on Christmas Eve – and with Soobin's own parents away on vacation and his sister following her yearly tradition of visiting her long distance best friend, Chaein and he would be watching Christmas movies she picks out and wait for Santa Claus to strike while she takes a bath with one of the bath bombs she always saves for special occasions.
“I’m not very good at cooking, but maybe we could prepare something together while the girls play in their room,” Soobin admits, which tugs the smile on Yeonjun's lips even further until laughter swallows his eyes whole.
Soobin already hears the bright voices of their girls approaching but doesn't turn around just yet, gaze still sinking, drowning, glittering.
“I would love to spend Christmas with you, Soobin."
And as Soobin sinks into the sparkle in Yeonjun’s eyes, stands under the glitter rain and watches as the pieces fall into place, he thinks that what he thought would be the holiday crisis of the century may not have been such a disaster after all.