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Santa, Father Christmas, St Nick, whoever it is is not real. Jongho knew he hasn’t been real for a long time. At least, that’s what Jongho keeps telling himself when he’s suddenly face to face with the real deal.
Well, he says he’s the real deal.
Instead of spending Christmas Eve at the bar with all of his friends like all other 21 year olds, Jongho was stuck babysitting his younger brother. His mother, wrapped up in her finest dress coat and high heels, with her sweet perfume filling the air, kissed his cheeks and told him they would be back just after midnight before taking her husband’s arm and closing their big wooden door behind them with a soft thud. He couldn’t be too mad, his parents worked so hard and Christmas Eve was their one constant evening they had without fail. Maybe next year, he could too. Or maybe he needed a boyfriend to spend his cosy Christmas Eves with. He could dream, he supposed.
With a quiet sigh, taking in the scent of his mother’s special occasion perfume, he wandered back into the vast reception room. The Christmas Tree was the centre piece of the room, seventeen feet high, adorned with gold and red baubles and glass decorations, soft warm twinkling lights looking like stars nestled between the pines. A large gold star sat proudly at the top, a true attention grabber. Jongho liked the star at the top.
The sound of the television blared from the living room, snapping Jongho out of his appreciation of the tree’s magic. He grumbled softly to himself, shuffled his feet into his slippers and headed down the hallway towards the noise. He hated when his brother would flick through the TV channels like that, he couldn’t quite understand why his brother couldn’t just pick something and stick to it.
“Juwon-ah,” Jongho drawled as he stepped into the room. “Pick something before I pick for you. And you’re going to bed soon so make it something good.”
Juwon barely even grunted a response. Teenagers.
“Fine, be like that. What happens when I hide the remote so you’re stuck on a channel? Huh?” Jongho shuffled up behind him and clamped a hand down on his head. “Want that?”
A small sigh escaped his brother’s lips.
“You’re annoying, hyung.”
Tsk. Kids these days with their attitudes.
“I’ll tell Eomma when she’s home that you’ve been a brat. Or even worse, Abeoji—“
“Empty threats, Jjong,” Juwon retorted, pressing the button on the remote again. One bad and cringey Christmas movie to another. “Get a life and go away.”
Jongho puffed his cheeks out for a moment to think. His brother was such a shit sometimes. He had his parents wrapped around his little finger, Jongho could tell them his little brother set fire to the house and danced around it naked in a Satanic ritual and his parents would coddle him and excuse his behaviour. Damn, being the oldest sucked.
“Yeah well,” Jongho started, scratching his fingers into his brothers scalp, careful not to press too hard. “Keep being a shit and Santa will give you coal. No presents for you.”
The laughter that escaped his brother was not what Jongho expected.
“You are so lame, Jjong. Leave me alone so I can watch the TV in peace.”
Jongho scowled at the top of his brothers head and spun around on his heel, he stomped to the door and back out into the hallway. He made sure to close the door fully to try and drown out the God awful Christmas movie. Slowly he made his way down the hallway, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked. The downside of having a big old house was the long dark corridors and phantom noises, even being in the building for the whole duration of his life, he still wasn’t used to the eeriness. He made his way into his bedroom and dropped down onto the bed, the soft plush mattress enveloping him into its warmth. Shuffling onto his side, he pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time. 22:47 blinked back at him. He let his eyes close and before he knew it, his chest was heavier, rising and falling slowly. Dreams started forming in his mind, colours bursting, twinkling lights, soft Christmas music and laughter. Jongho loved Christmas, even when he was semi conscious.
Thud. Knock. A scramble. Another thud.
Jongho’s brows furrowed, the noise coming from the other side of the house being loud enough to stir him from his sleep. With a quiet grumble, he fumbled about toward his bedside table, feeling for his phone. He sighed and resigned that it was out of reach, so he pushed himself to sit up and grabbed the device. A soft yawn escaped him as he squinted at the bright screen.
00:02.
‘Oh,’ he thought to himself. ‘Eomma and Abeoji must be home.’
Time to go and rat out his brother for being a brat.
Fuelled with the satisfaction of watching his brother get scolded, Jongho hauled himself out of his room, still clouded with sleep and made his way to the reception.
“Eomma! You’re back, you’ll never guess what Juwon did—“ Jongho started as he turned the corner.
Only to be met with a man. A man he didn’t know. Wearing a red Santa outfit.
Jongho blinked. Hard. And then again. He balled his fists and raised them to his face and rubbed his eyes hard. How was he still asleep? Was he sleep walking?
The man was still there, wide eyed and still as if like a rabbit caught in headlights.
Jongho knew he should panic. Maybe he should just run off. Call the police, call his parents, call anyone. He cursed himself for being single, even if just for the protection. The situation was, as it stands, a strange man standing in their family home reception room, holding a huge ass sack, a wrapped gift in the other hand. And he was handsome—
Woah, okay. Not the point.
The man, Santa, didn’t even blink. He was just as shocked.
God, Jongho, say something.
“You are so not old or big enough to be Santa.”
Nice one, Jongho. What the hell was that?! Although, Jongho noted, it seemed to do the trick. The man blinked back at him and cleared his throat. Oh, he was pretty.
“Uh, no. No I’m not, you’re right. I am kinda doing a favour,” the mystery man explained slowly. “I’m filling in for Santa?”
Jongho stared back at the man. Back at Santa. He just .. Needed a minute to take him in. His black hair slightly waved with strands falling over his forehead, grazing his eyes. A giant red Santa hat adorned the top of his head. His big, dark chocolate eyes. Jongho let his eyes fall further down his face, down his perfect straight nose and his lips— those lips. Perfect and pouty, just naturally pouty. When he talked, he showed his straight pearly teeth. God, this man was gorgeous. Jongho realised the man was talking. He absolutely was not listening to the words. Jongho was a music man, his life revolved around music as a singer and musician. The man’s voice was like a melody he didn’t ever want to end.
He blinked himself out of his thoughts, snapping back to reality.
“It was an accident, but now I have to deliver the presents. I know, it’s really stupid.”
Silence fell between them. Jongho and Santa sizing each other up with their eyes. Jongho was unsure if it was ten minutes or thirty seconds that passed.
“Okay,” Jongho breathed. “Tell me. Are you robbing me with a super elaborate disguise or are you y’know … Being serious? ‘Cause I don’t know what to tell you but .. Santa .. Father Christmas, whatever the fuck .. Doesn’t exist. It’s a story. Not real.” He squinted, sizing up the man in front of him. Maybe he was on drugs.
“Seonghwa,” the man replied as he slowly placed the sack onto the floor. “My name’s Seonghwa, I did just explain everything. I came through the chimney, weren’t you listening? I kinda just fell into this—“
As soon as Seonghwa stopped talking, suddenly, the situation became clear. The clarity of the situation cleared Jongho’s mind. Laughter started to bubble up from Jongho’s stomach into his throat. He couldn’t help it. Before he knew it, he was doubled over. He couldn’t stop the laughter escaping. How absolutely ridiculous. A handsome man, delivered himself to his house, instead of Santa? How was he ever going to explain this to anyone?
“D-Do you mean to tell me,” Jongho managed to get out between giggles, “This is some kind of The Santa Clause shit?” He laughed and reached out to Seonghwa’s shoulder to keep himself upright. The quality of the jacket was nice and soft under his touch. Velvety.
Seonghwa, Santa, blushed a dark shade of red.
“I-Yes .. I suppose so.” Seonghwa stood up straight, brushing Jongho’s hand off his shoulder, probably to try and reclaim some dignity considering Jongho had just laughed so hard in his face.
“Can you just let me deliver what I need to?”
Jongho laughed again quietly and wiped the newly formed tears from his eyes.
“You need some help finding the milk and cookies too?”
Seonghwa scowled back at him, although right on cue, a slow rumble came from under the layers of red velvet suit. Jongho let out a long shaky breath through his mouth, trying to reduce the giggling. Okay, he could bite this time. Santa doesn’t exist but this handsome man in front of him sure does.
“Come on, follow me.” He turned and started to make his way down the hallway, he was either absolutely nuts and making a madman that broke in feel right at home in his house full of family heirlooms and treasured valuables or he was still asleep. Or he’d taken a hit before he went to sleep and forgot about it. Either way, he could absolutely feel Seonghwa’s presence behind him and the soft footsteps of the heavy leather boots scuffing along the floorboards. Once in the kitchen, Jongho pulled the fridge open and made the man a coffee and retrieved a couple of the good cookies from the biscuit tin. He knew his parents would go nuts that he used the good Christmas cookies on this man, but they weren’t home to stop him.
Jongho watched Seonghwa perch on the stool at the kitchen island, although clad in thick heavy materials, the man wearing them was soft and delicate. His slender face and his hands seemed so odd, popping out of the thick white fur trim. He watched Seonghwa’s long fingers pick the biscuit up and bring it to that perfect mouth.
The pair fell into a comfortable conversation, Jongho felt like it was time to actually listen to Seonghwa’s story and try his best not to get distracted. He learnt that the year prior, Seonghwa was driving back from a business trip and got home early Christmas morning. Santa was in his house delivering gifts to his sister but obviously Seonghwa thought some mad mad had broken in and they got into a fight. Jongho giggled along, imagining the mental image, but honestly completely understandable as he too, had been close to tackling Seonghwa to the ground. Turns out, the real Santa wasn’t dead so that was a relief, but Seonghwa felt so bad that he offered to do his whole Christmas Eve round for him this year. Jongho giggled, what kind of maniac would agree to any of this but secondly, why was he loving it? This guy offered to do Santa’s busiest shift of the year because he felt bad. Why was he so endeared by this weirdo in his kitchen? This handsome weirdo. The clock on the wall ticked by, seconds could have been turning into hours. With each tick of the hands, Jongho felt like he was enamoured by the man sat in front of him. Seonghwa was full of joy, full of charisma. The man had a talent for story telling. Towards the end, Jongho noted his focus was beginning to dwindle. He was just so pretty. Pretty and perfect.
Clearing his throat and averting his gaze, Jongho felt brave.
“So you have presents.”
Seonghwa, mouth full of cookie, hummed in response.
Jongho considered his next question for a moment.
“For me and for Juwon?” he asked. “That’s why you’re here?”
Seonghwa chewed his cookie for a couple of moments before lifting the coffee up to his mouth, giving it a gentle blow and then taking a long sip.
“Mm, for you both. Looks like only one of you made the nice list.”
Jongho’s head whipped back around in Seonghwa’s direction, eyes widening. He couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. Oh, take that Juwon.
“You stopped me in the process of leaving coal under the tree for your brother. Your prayers were answered,” Seonghwa said with a straight face. “Good job I heard you before, I managed to find some spare coal I could switch the gifts out for.”
Silence settled between the two of them. Jongho processing what this Santa-Seonghwa was saying and Seonghwa finishing off his snack. It wasn’t weird though, the silence was comfortable. But … Santa was made up. How could this be, this young man sitting opposite him, talking about presents and coal. This couldn’t be real. Jongho’s only logical explanation was that this was a dream. So he had nothing to lose.
“What’s my present?”
Seonghwa chuckled quietly and looked back at him with a soft smile.
“Ah, you’re curious. There’s a gift in the sack, isn’t it customary to leave it to unwrap in the morning?”
The bright phone screen with the time etched onto it became clear in Jongho’s mind. He felt a smirk tug at the corner of his lips.
“You’re right. But it is morning.”
“Right you are.” Seonghwa smiled softly back at him, although Jongho didn’t miss the blush forming across his cheeks.
He didn’t know what came over him, suddenly he was leaning over the kitchen island, leaning his whole body weight onto his arms, closing the distance between himself and Seonghwa. His own lips brushing against his. His senses came snapping to him, he was going to pull away. He was going to apologise. But a hand was on the back of his head, anchoring him to his place. Gentle fingers were now pressing into his scalp. Seonghwa’s lips pressed back against his, slowly opening as if to tell Jongho it was okay. This was allowed.
Soft warm breath tickled his cheek, he could feel his own cheeks warming up from the contact. He was kissing Santa Claus, for fuck sake. But he didn’t care. In fact, he liked it. He liked the feeling of Seonghwa’s hand on the back of his head, he liked the flush of warmth that shot down his body into the pit of his stomach. Jongho let his own mouth part open more, which was the go ahead Seonghwa needed before letting his tongue to press between his parted lips. Jongho’s heartbeat hammered inside his chest, the dizziness in his head combined with the butterflies. How on Earth was he going to process that he was, quite literally, snogging Santa in his kitchen.
He didn’t care how long passed. Time didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was his nose being pressed against the soft skin of Seonghwa’s cheek. The slight ache in his elbows from holding up his whole body weight over the island, even the occasional click of their teeth. The soft breaths that would escape each others mouths, only to be lost in the closeness between them.
Seonghwa pulled away, a dark blush still over his cheeks with a grin to match.
“Ah,” he managed to breathe out and dropped his gaze down. “I need to go. Unfortunately, this is probably my busiest evening of my life.”
Jongho couldn’t even respond. It was like his mind and his imagination were swirling inside his brain, trying to catch up with one another.
“You can’t leave after kissing me like that,” Jongho pouted. His signature pout was truly something. It was the only benefit of being cute, nobody could resist him once he turned on the puppy dog eyes and soft pouty lips. And honestly, Jongho was channeling a lot through his pout. Seonghwa couldn’t just leave now. How was Jongho ever meant to function after that.
“Maybe it’s an excuse to come back,” Seonghwa said quietly.
He rose to his feet and took the couple of strides around the island and he was in front of Jongho within seconds. Soft hands came up to Jongho’s cheeks, a softer smile graced Seonghwa’s face. Slowly Seonghwa leaned down and closed the distance between them again, Jongho hadn’t realised how much taller he was than him until now. The kiss felt different this time. A bit like an unspoken promise. Jongho decided to believe him, he would come back.
“Merry Christmas, Jongho,” Seonghwa whispered, lips still pressed against his own. When he pulled away, Jongho couldn’t help but feel his stomach knot. A couple more kisses and whispered “see you laters”, Jongho led Seonghwa back through the house towards the statement centrepiece tree. He felt his pout return, as he watched Seonghwa pick the sack back up and make his way back to the fireplace where he’d come from.
“See you again, I promise.”
And with that, Seonghwa was stepping into the fireplace and sparkles started to appear all around him. Unbelievable. Seonghwa smiled at him, genuine, and raised his hand to give a gentle wave. Jongho waved back and within moments, Seonghwa had gone.
It was just Jongho, the tree and the small pile of presents. The dull drones of the Christmas movie his brother was watching down the hall was the only sound left. He couldn’t help the laughter that escaped his body, the absurdity of the night’s events settling into the rational side of his brain.
Nobody was ever going to believe this. After all, Santa, Father Christmas, whatever his name was, didn’t exist.