Chapter Text
Minho bursts through the door of Chan’s dorm. “Sorry I’m late,” he pants, kicking off his shoes and plopping down beside Jisung on the sofa when he moves over to make room for him. He’s not usually late; he’s usually the first to arrive but the traffic on the way back from his photoshoot was even more horrendous than usual.
Chan smiles at him. “It’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you guys about Christmas.”
“Oh, uh.” Hyunjin glances over at Changbin from where he’s sitting on the floor, braiding Yongbok’s hair. Changbin’s sitting in the beanbag chair, the one nobody wants to sit in and he shoots Hyunjin a guilty look back. “Binnie and I already had plans to visit my parents for Christmas.”
Minho turns to Jisung, giving him a look. Jisung gives him one back. Because of course Changbin’s met Hyunjin’s parents before and they call each other wife all the time but this is not that. This is Changbin not spending Christmas with his family to be with Hyunjin’s.
“Aren’t you and Bokkie-hyung going to Sydney for Christmas?” Jeongin asks, from where he’s sitting on the floor in front of Changbin.
“Yes.” Chan grins. “But I thought we could do a gift exchange before everyone goes away?”
Seungmin frowns from where he’s sitting on Yongbok’s other side, also braiding his hair. “Don’t we usually give each other presents?”
“Yes.” Chan rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would be more fun to do a Secret Santa. That way we don’t have to buy a gift for everyone.”
Minho glances over at Jisung again. Mouths Secret Santa? It must be a thing because Chan said it in English, not Korean. But he’s never heard of it.
“Secret Santa?” Seungmin asks. “What’s that?”
“It’s when we draw names and buy a present for that person,” Yongbok says. “Like a—” He looks up at Chan, yelping when it pulls at his hair. Then asks him, in English, how to say a word.
Lot-ter-rie?
“Raffle,” Jisung says. Oh.
“Yes, raffle,” Chan says. “I’ve already downloaded an app and entered our names. If you don’t want to participate let me know and I’ll take you off. Otherwise I’ll go ahead and you’ll get an email with your giftee’s name.”
“Aw, we’re not going to pull names out of a hat?” Yongbok asks.
Chan shrugs. “I mean, we can. I just figured—”
“No, we should draw names,” Jeongin says, grinning over at Seungmin. “I want to see the look on everyone’s face when they find out who they picked.”
Seungmin laughs, hard enough he accidentally pulls Yongbok’s hair. He yelps again, jerking away from Seungmin. “Me too.”
Chan rolls his eyes again, glancing over at Minho. Minho can only shrug. Seungmin’s a chaos demon and he’s going to Seungmin any chance he gets.
Jeongin slaps Changbin’s leg, pushing up from it to stand, then goes over to the kitchen table, pulling a notebook from it.
“Hey, that’s my song notebook!” Chan calls out.
“You can spare a single page, hyung,” Jeongin says, ruthlessly ripping a blank page out. He then rips it into eight, writing on each slip with the pen that’s also there. He folds each one, then looks around. He lights up, dashing over to the tree that Chan already has up because of course he does, even though it’s barely December. He snatches one of the stockings taped to the windowsill beside it, the one with his name on it. Then he dumps the papers in it, shaking it as he walks over to Chan.
“How do we know you didn’t just write your name eight times?” Seungmin asks.
Jeongin glowers at him. “Because I’m not you.” Minho can’t help but snicker at that. Jisung giggles, falling against Minho’s shoulder. Everyone’s laughing except Seungmin, who sticks his tongue out at Jeongin.
“Okay, okay.” Chan raises his hands, trying to reign everyone in. “How should we do this?”
“You’re the hyung,” Hyunjin says. “You should pick first.” He looks around at everyone. “And then pick by age order? That seems the most logical.” Minho nods, because it does make the most sense. It doesn’t hurt that he’ll get to pick second.
It’ll give him a better chance of picking Jisung.
“Is that okay with everyone else?” Chan asks, ever the diplomat. Everyone nods and Jeongin holds out the stocking to him. “Oh, I forgot to mention. This is probably obvious, but you can’t pick yourself.” He reaches into the stocking, waving his hand around, eventually pulling it out, clutching a slip of paper. He opens it and smiles. Which means nothing because he’d be happy with whoever he picked.
Minho suspects the main reason Chan came up with this idea was some attempt to stop himself from going overboard with presents like he always does, especially with their schedule. He wouldn’t be surprised if Chan buys something for them all, anyway.
“Okay, your turn!” Jisung grabs Minho’s shoulder, shoving him up and off the couch. Minho tries to frown at him but he knows his smile is giving him away. He steps around Hyunjin and Yongbok and if he accidentally on purpose kicks Seungmin on his way to the stocking, he’ll never tell.
“Hey!” Seungmin reaches for his ankle but Minho darts out of his way, landing lightly on his other foot. Sometimes it pays to be a dancer. He turns to Seungmin, sticking his tongue out at him. When he reaches the stocking, he sticks his hand in, feeling each slip of paper like he can tell which one’s Jisung’s by osmosis. He picks one, pulling his hand out, flipping it open—
Hyunjin. Because the world is cruel and unjust.
“Ooh, someone is not happy,” Seungmin taunts. Minho gives him a withering stare.
“Yeah, because I picked you,” he says.
Seungmin grins. “No, you didn’t. But I can guess who else you didn’t pick.” Minho ignores him as he sits back down.
“Okay, Binnie,” Chan says, apparently ignoring that whole thing. “Your turn.” Changbin hauls himself out of the bean bag chair, nearly tripping over his own feet. Demonstrating why no one ever wants to sit in that chair. Minho can’t even remember whose it is but he doesn’t think it’s either Chan or Jeongin’s. One of those things that just appeared when they all lived together and of course Chan took it when they all got their own dorms and nobody else wanted it.
Changbin makes it to the stocking without dying and shoves his hand inside, almost immediately pulling it out. He unfolds the paper and grins which doesn’t make sense because Minho picked Hyunjin—
He catches Minho’s eye, smiling wider. Oh. He must’ve gotten Jisung. Which means they could trade, maybe.
“Jinnie!” Yongbok elbows Hyunjin. “You’re up!” Hyunjin lets go of Yongbok’s hair, leaning back and pressing his hand into the couch to stand.
“Foot fell asleep,” he mutters as he staggers across the room. He reaches the stocking and plunges his hand in, pulling it out, laughing. “They were all clumped together,” he says, turning and showing off the stack of paper in his fingers.
Well, that might explain a couple things.
Hyunjin pulls the papers apart, dropping them back into the stocking. He reaches back in, pulling out a single piece of paper and he gets this soft, fond look in his eyes when he reads it.
So he got Changbin.
“My turn!” Jisung shouts, leaping up from the couch and dashing over to the stocking, nearly slipping in his socked feet. He steadies himself by grabbing Chan’s shoulder, reaching into the stocking with his other hand. He laughs, showing everyone the slip with his name on it. Then again. Then a third time.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” Jeongin says with a laugh.
“I’m not!” Jisung protests. “I don’t even like buying my own clothes. Why would I want to buy my Christmas present?”
Minho snorts. He’s such a liar. He loves shopping.
Jisung dunks his hand into the stocking for the fourth time and even Minho can tell he pulls out a different paper this time. “Oh, nice!” He folds it, stuffing it in his jeans pocket before he returns to his seat, smiling at Minho but he can’t tell if he got him. He’d like to think Jisung would be more enthused but maybe he’s downplaying it on purpose.
“Let’s go!” Yongbok jumps up and this time when Seungmin grabs his leg, he succeeds. Only his reflexes stop Yongbok from doing a full faceplant. He manages to catch himself, wincing as he sits up, shaking out his hands. He turns and despite his firmly established cinnamon roll status, if he looked at Minho like that, he’d sleep with one eye open from now on.
“Sorry!” Seungmin cries, immediately bowing to him. “Sorry! I didn’t think I’d catch you! Really.” Yongbok rolls his eyes but he’s trying not to smile which means Seungmin’s already forgiven. He gets back up, reaching into the stocking and the look on his face when he reads the name. Minho can’t tell if he’s happy or not with who he picked.
“My turn!” Seungmin declares, jumping up and plunging his hand so hard Chan nearly drops the stocking. He’s clearly having trouble which makes sense because there are only two slips of paper left. He finally pulls his hand out, reading the paper. He snickers, lifting his eyes to Changbin which doesn’t make sense because Minho got Hyunjin. So maybe Seungmin got Changbin? Then who did Hyunjin get?
“Only one left,” Chan says, pulling the last paper out, walking over and handing it to Jeongin. “Remember, it’s supposed to be a secret.”
“Are we allowed to trade?” Seungmin asks. So Minho doesn’t have to.
Chan gives him the look Minho expects. “No.” He goes back to the windowsill, reattaching the stocking. “Yongbokie and I fly out right from Jakarta on the twenty-second,” he says. “So what if we have a little party on the nineteenth? We can exchange gifts and order take-out—”
“We’ll have it at our place,” Jisung says. Minho whirls to him. Jisung shrugs. “It’ll be fun.” Minho’s not sure if he’s trying to convince him or himself. “Maybe instead of take-out, we can each bring a thing?”
Yongbok asks Chan something in English but Minho’s pretty sure he can figure it out.
“Yes,” Jisung says. “Potluck.” He grins at Yongbok. “I think we can assume you’ll be bringing brownies.”
“I am capable of making other things!” Yongbok protests.
Seungmin turns to him. “Don’t you dare.” He gets this devilish look in his eye. “You’ll burn the place down.”
Yongbok glowers at him.
“Okay, so it’s decided,” Chan says, loudly. “Also, I propose we set a price limit of fifty thousand won.”
“What?” Changbin cries out. “What can you buy for fifty thousand won?”
“The whole point of this is to be simple,” Chan replies. “We have a lot on our schedule in the next couple of weeks. The idea is to pick something you think your giftee would like but not get too extravagant.”
“Which means you can’t just give your giftee a freebie you got from Versace,” Seungmin says.
“I’d never!” Hyunjin protests. Even though he totally would.
It’s actually too bad Minho won’t be keeping Hyunjin as his giftee because he’d be so easy. Just hit up an art store and buy him a bunch of supplies. He could enlist Changbin as his co-conspirator, get him to find out which paints he likes best, if there’s anything he’s recently run out of—
But Changbin can get that for him if he wants. After they trade.
*****
“Binnie!” Minho manages to catch Changbin as he’s heading back to his dorm. Alone, which is either lucky or weird. “You have to trade with me.”
“We’re not supposed to trade,” Changbin says without even turning around. Which, rude.
Minho rolls his eyes. “We all know we’re going to anyway. Seungmin probably already traded his.”
Changbin turns then but he doesn’t look at Minho. Instead he’s staring at the ground like he’s expecting grass to sprout through the old dirty snow or something. “I can’t trade with you,” he mutters.
“Why not?” Minho asks. “You got Jisung, right?” He comes closer, lowering his voice in case anyone reaches them. “And I got Hyunjin, so it’s perfect. We trade and everyone’s happy.”
“Uh.” Changbin presses his lips together. “I didn’t get Jisung.”
“What?” Minho blurts out. Because he was so sure. “Then why did you look at—” Oh. “You picked me.”
“I can’t tell you,” Changbin says. But he doesn’t have to. It’s written all over his face. “I’m really sorry—”
Minho sighs. Maybe louder than he needs to. “No, it’s fine.” That just means he’s going to have to figure out who does have Jisung. But really it could be anyone.
Except Hyunjin. Because there’s no way he picked anyone but Changbin with that look on his face.
“I’ll totally pretend I didn’t figure out you picked me,” Minho says. “I promise to be super surprised and excited with whatever you get me.”
“I didn’t pick you,” Changbin insists, but years of living in a cramped dorm and SKZ Code means he can tell when any of them are lying. And Changbin’s particularly bad at it. Not as bad as Yongbok, but close.
“Sure you didn’t.” Minho gives him an exaggerated wink. “Just like I totally won’t tell you when I find out who picked Jisung so you can trade them for Hyunjin.”
Changbin frowns. “I feel like that kind of negates the whole spirit of the Secret Santa concept.”
“Maybe, but you can’t tell me you didn’t already plan to give Hyunjin something for Christmas.”
“I can still give him something,” Changbin says. “Channie-hyung didn’t say we couldn’t get presents for anyone else.”
“Oh, true.” So maybe Minho doesn’t have to play detective. And he already has an idea for Hyunjin. “Oh hey, maybe you can help me, then. Does Hyunjin have any favorite art supplies? Or is there anything he’s run out of?”
Changbin immediately brightens. “He can always use new canvases! Small or medium ones, because he’s currently doing this whole painting a day thing when he has time off. He did this series of abstracts lately and they were really good. He even explained the color wheel and color composition to me.” He shrugs. “I didn’t really get it but it’s cool.”
Minho can’t help but smile. Changbin’s so clearly smitten. He probably didn’t even look at a painting that wasn’t part of a field trip before and now he’s waxing poetic about color composition.
“Oh, and he really likes working with oils but there’s this one brand he likes better. He says it’s more forgiving and it doesn’t smell as much—” He pulls out his phone. Because of course he’s been keeping notes.
“Are you sure you don’t want to trade?” Minho asks. “I can always try to trade again with someone else.” Or buy this adorable set of cat toys for Doongie, Dori, and Soonie. Anyone who knows him knows the fastest way to his heart is through his cats.
Changbin frowns. “It just feels, I don’t know? Like cheating?”
Minho sighs. Rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He pulls out his phone, clicking on a link to the cat toys, texting it to Changbin. “As long as this isn’t also cheating,” he says.
Changbin taps his phone, then starts laughing. “As if I even thought of getting you anything other than something for your cats,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.”
“And I’ll make sure your wife is well taken care of,” Minho says. It’s pretty dark out but he thinks he can see a flush bloom over Changbin’s cheeks. “What? Only you’re allowed to call each other that?”
“No.” Changbin shakes his head. “It’s just—it’s not just a joke when it’s not just us, you know?”
“But you’re going to his house for Christmas,” Minho points out. “That doesn’t seem like just a joke to me. Not seeing your own family to be with his.”
“I’ll see them for New Year,” Changbin says, looking so adorably sheepish.
Minho tries to keep the sly smile from his face but it wins. “And is Hyunnie going with you?”
Changbin drops his eyes. “Yeah,” he admits. “But please don’t say anything to the others. It’s bad enough they know about Christmas.” He sighs. “I already know Seungminie will never let it go.” It’s true; Seungmin seems to have a special affinity for tormenting Changbin. Minho always assumed it was a crush. It could still be.
Changbin’s fingers twitch at his sides. “I should go,” he says. “Hyunnie will wonder what kept me.” And like he conjured him up, Minho hears Changbin’s phone vibrate. “Jagi?” he answers. “I’ll be there in a couple minutes. Just talking to Inno-hyung.”
Minho smiles. “I won’t keep you,” he says when Changbin hangs up. “Don’t want Hyunnie to worry.” He turns to head to his own dorm and it’s totally fine that Jisung hasn’t called or texted him, isn’t worried about what happened to him—
“He really likes ice cream, but he won’t let himself eat it much,” Changbin says. “Mint choco and sorbet.”
Minho smiles. “Noted,” he says. Just as his phone goes off. He pulls it out, glancing at the screen.
Jisungie 🥰🥰: where are you?
still plotting with Changbinnie-hyung?
Me: who’s plotting?
I’ll be there in 5
Minho turns back to Changbin. “I really like cheesecake,” he says. Which is true, but Jisung likes it more. “And chocolate cake. But cheesecake more.”
Changbin smiles. “Noted,” he says, so softly Minho barely hears him. “Goodnight, hyung.” He turns and heads to his dorm and Minho heads to his. But since he has his phone—
Me: who did you pick?
because I’d be willing to consider a trade
since you clearly wanted to before
Minho watches as he walks but nothing happens. Until he’s literally at the front door to his dorm.
Seungmin: depends on who you picked
Me: you first
Seungmin: 😈
Minho sighs as he punches in the code for the door. He’s played poker with Seungmin before. He knows how risky it is to show his hand first.
Me: fine
fine
Hyunjinie
“Hello?” Minho calls out, kicking off his shoes, sliding his feet into a pair of slippers.
“In here!” Jisung replies from the kitchen. Minho crosses the living room, smiling and waving at Jisung when he reaches the doorway. Jisung’s sitting at the kitchen island, his hands wrapped around a mug of tea. He nods in the general direction of the kettle. “It’s still hot.” He takes a sip of tea, then writes something in the notebook he always has with him. Honestly, 3racha would die if physical notebooks ever stopped existing.
“You know they have these things on your phone called apps where you can write entire songs and access them from anywhere.”
Jisung smiles. “I’m not writing a song.” He picks up the notebook and turns it to Minho. One thing Minho’s always loved about him is that he’s never shy about showing Minho his rough work. “Just some snippets of lyrics.”
Minho walks over to the cupboard, pulling a mug down. There’s already a box of tea on the counter, this herbal blend Chan got Jisung into. Apparently it’s supposed to help with sleep. Minho grabs a bag and drops it into his mug, pouring the hot water over the top. It smells nice, anyway.
He sits down beside Jisung, blatantly reading over his shoulder as he scribbles more lyrics into his notebook. Of course it’s all about love. Jisung’s such a romantic.
Minho’s phone buzzes and he pulls it out.
Seungmin: ooh you owe me!!
because I picked Jisungie
and I’m totally willing to trade
for a price
Minho snorts down at his phone, sipping at his tea. He thought he’d have to leverage at least one other member to get Jisung, trading whoever Seungmin picked.
But he picked Jisung.
“What?” Jisung asks, absently. Minho glances over and he’s still writing. He stuffs his phone back into his jeans pocket.
“Nothing.”
Jisung lifts his head, turning to Minho, angling his head. “Nothing?”
Minho sets his mug down, raising his hands, the very picture of innocence. “Nothing!”
Jisung rolls his eyes. “Right,” he mutters. “Nothing. You chase after Binnie-hyung like he knows the secrets of the universe and then come home and you’re texting some mystery person but it’s nothing?”
“Okay, fine.” Minho glowers into his tea mug. “It’s not nothing.”
“Are you trying—” Jisung cuts himself off. “You know you can just—” Jisung blows out a breath. “You don’t have to game the system. You can give someone besides your Secret Santa person a gift, if you want.”
“I know.” But the thing is that he wants to be the only person to give Jisung a gift. Well, except for Chan because he will give everyone something. And, okay, Minho gets that in theory any one of the other members could give him a gift but it’s the principle. He wants to be the one who gives Jisung the gift he’ll open in front of everyone.
Which means it also has to be amazing. No pressure.
Minho’s phone buzzes again. He shoots an apologetic smile at Jisung as he unlocks it.
Seungmin: so?
are we on or not?
Me: on
Seungmin: 🙌🙌
my price is that you buy Jinnies’s gift, too
Me: for a 50000 won limit?
done
Seungmin: no, if I’m gonna get him I’m gonna do it right
make it at least 100000
Me: fine
at least I did my homework and I know what to get him
Seungmin: ofc you did, hyung
love you!! 🫰🫰
“Do I even want to know?” Jisung asks, trying for exasperated but Minho can hear the fondness underneath.
“No,” Minho deadpans, closing the app and setting his phone down.
Jisung snorts. “I guess I should just be grateful you haven’t spent all this time pestering me, trying to find out if I picked you.”
Right. Because Minho would totally do that if he didn’t already know who had picked him. He sidles up beside Jisung, curling his arm around his. “So who did you get?”
“Forget it,” Jisung says. “I’ll never tell.”
“So not me,” Minho says, “because you’d be way more evasive about it.”
Jisung drops his pen, turning to Minho with such a sly look that if he didn’t know better, he’d wonder. “Would I?”
Minho leans in closer, batting his eyes at him. “Jagi,” he says, making his voice low, breathy. “You have to tell me.”
Jisung drops his eyes but it’s to stare at Minho’s mouth. His own lips part and Minho wonders for what must be the millionth time what they’d feel like against his. What he’d taste like. They’ve played this game so many times but one of them always shuts it down.
What if they didn’t?
“Not you,” Jisung says, abruptly pulling away from Minho, practically leaping out of his chair. He leaves his notebook open in his apparent haste to get away, practically running to the sink to wash his cup and hang it on the rack.
So maybe it’s not so much a game of chicken but that Jisung’s not interested. That he’s willing to play along for the fanservice but doesn’t want to make it weird because they live together. That he doesn’t want to hurt Minho’s feelings.
So maybe Minho’s wasting his time.
Then he sneaks a look down at Jisung’s notebook and the last line he wrote?
What if it changes everything?
*****
“Hyung! I need to trade with you!”
Minho looks up just in time for Yongbok to burst into the elevator, nearly colliding with him. The doors close a moment later and Yongbok leans against them, clutching his chest like a maiden with the vapors.
“He knows.”
“Who knows?” Minho asks. “And what does he know?”
“Minnie.” Yongbok replies. “He knows I picked him and I can’t live with the pressure.”
“How did he find out?” Minho asks, making his voice calm. Soothing.
“Ugh.” Yongbok rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “He cornered me this morning over breakfast. He wouldn’t let me go until I told him who I picked.”
Which means he casually asked Yongbok once and he folded like cheap cardboard. “I’m not exactly sure why this is a ‘me’ problem,” Minho says.
“Ok,” Yongbok says, heaving a giant sigh. “I don’t actually know if he knows yet. I managed to evade him but the way he was looking at me like he could see right through me—” He frowns. “It’s only a matter of time, hyung. You know how he is. He’ll absolutely ask me every chance he gets till I cave and he’ll search my room when I’m not there—”
“You could always get someone else to hold your present for you,” Minho points out.
Yongbok blinks. “Oh.” He grins. “Yeah, I could do that. Thanks, hyung!” His smile drops. “But that doesn’t solve the problem of him hounding me until I give in and tell him.”
Minho doesn’t roll his eyes. Just. “You could just lie to him.”
Yongbok pulls away from the doors as the elevator dings, scrunching his face into a scowl. “I’m not the best at that,” he says as he spins and walks out. Understatement of the year. Maybe the decade, despite the fact it’s not even half over.
Minho follows him down the hall to their practice room. It doesn’t look like anyone’s here yet. “Just pick a name and stick with it,” he says. “Just not his, obviously.” He frowns. “Or Jisung’s. Or Hyunjin’s.”
Yongbok makes this exasperated sound as he pulls open the door and they both go inside. “That’s nearly all of us.”
Minho scowls down at the floor as he crosses the room, kicking off his shoes. “Aish, just say you picked Channie-hyung.”
“Which means you know Minnie didn’t pick him,” Yongbok says, his expression going shrewd in the wall-length mirror. “Which means you know who he did pick.” He narrows his eyes. “Because he picked Jisungie and you tried to trade with him.”
“How do you know?” Minho asks but it sounds lame even to him.
“Because if you picked Jisungie you wouldn’t bother asking around,” Yongbok points out. "Which means you picked Hyunnie.” He sits down, pulling his foot into his lap, bending down over it. “I’m guessing you also tried to trade with Binnie-hyung which means you probably know who he picked, too.”
Minho presses his lips together, dropping down beside Yongbok, bending his legs and pressing his feet together. He holds his ankles, leaning over them until it burns.
“Pretty impressive, hyung,” Yongbok says, giving Minho a sidelong look as he sits up, curling his arm over his head, stretching into it. “You already know half the matches. If this whole idol thing didn’t work out, you could consider a career as a detective.”
“It’s not like I went around grilling everyone,” Minho scoffs. “I didn’t even ask you who you picked. You asked for my help.” He extends his legs, grabbing his ankles and stretching over them.
“Wait a minute.” Yongbok sits up. “Who did Binnie-hyung pick if he wasn’t willing to trade you for Hyunnie?” His jaw drops. “He picked you, didn’t he?”
“There,” Minho deadpans, giving him his best side eye. “Now you know half the matches, too.”
Yongbok spreads his legs wide, folding down over them until he’s nearly parallel to the floor. “Which means I now have a one in four chance of guessing who picked me, instead of a one in seven.” Minho can hear the smugness in his voice. Probably because he’s the last to know what’s going on half the time.
The other half’s usually Jisung.
Yongbok snaps his head toward the door because the others are filing through. Jisung and Hyunjin first, Jisung giving Minho a soft smile before they both plop down, Hyunjin sparing a single glance back to Changbin before he starts stretching like he’s being graded on it.
Seungmin kicks off his shoes, dropping down to the floor as Changbin rolls his shoulders, then launches into this warm-up like he’s getting ready to enter a boxing ring, dancing back and forth. It looks a lot like his choreo for his solo song.
Chan comes in with Jeongin, scanning around the room, immediately taking everything in. Like the leader he is. “Okay.” He claps his hands and everyone jumps up. “You know the set list. We’ll start at the top. With ‘Mountains’.”
They get through the first few songs with no incident. They’ve been doing this setlist since September. When they finish “JJAM” Chan holds up his hand. “This is where we’re gonna change things up. We’re gonna do ‘Walkin on Water’ here to highlight it as the title track for the new album.” Everyone nods, getting into formation. The music starts and Minho focuses on the new song. On the new choreo. He can feel everyone watching him as they run through it, looking at him to lead them through it.
“Again,” Chan says when the song ends and everyone groans except Minho. He just takes a deep breath, pulling his beanie over his eyes. Centers himself. Then loses himself in the music.
“Better,” Chan says and Minho feels it wash over him like the highest praise. He pulls his hat up, blinking against the brightness of the practice room lights. He turns to Chan and he smiles at him but it feels strained. “I hope everyone’s been keeping up on your choreo for your solo if you need to. We’re not going to have a lot of spare time.” Chan clears his throat, which means he’s nervous. “Our schedule’s pretty tight. Next week’s the BBMA’s, then our album release and though the music videos are already shot and we didn’t have much formal promo scheduled—”
“We’ll have to do social media,” Jisung says. “Dance challenges for TikTok and Instagram. But those are already scheduled.”
Chan sighs. “Yeah, but we also have Bangkok and—” He flashes them a smile and Minho’s stomach sinks. “There’s been a slight change. We’re uh, doing Music Bank the next day.”
Everyone groans. This was a mixtape, on purpose. So they wouldn’t have to do music shows, right in the middle of their tour, right before Christmas.
Chan holds up his hand and everyone turns back to him and Minho wonders how many of them caught the flash of dejection that crossed his face before he managed to tamp it down. “We’ve also been invited to do Gayo Daejeon this year.”
“But that’s on Christmas Day,” Yongbok blurts out. “Which means we—”
“I said we’d have to discuss it first,” Chan says. “As a team. Which means if you say the word, we don’t do it.” He doesn’t disguise his annoyance this time. “Or Gayo Daejejeon on New Year’s Eve.”
Changbin and Hyunjin exchange loaded looks. “My family doesn’t really do that much on Christmas Day anyway,” Hyunjin says. “We can always go there after.”
“‘What are you doing, New Year’s Eve?’” Yongbok sings, but there’s an edge to it. Before he smiles, more genuine. “At least we’ll get to be together to celebrate.”
“And we probably should do some promo,” Jisung adds with a small smile. “Since we skipped MMA and MAMA this year.”
“We could push our party until after Jakarta,” Jeongin suggests. “Make it a New Year’s Eve afterparty to celebrate being done with everything for the year?” Minho knows what he’s doing. Giving them as much time as possible for even more rehearsals. For two extra performances.
“Okay, show of hands,” Chan says. “Who wants to do Gayo Daejeon?”
Minho meets Jisung’s eye as he raises his hand, Jisung giving him some sort of look as he does, too. As everyone else does.
Except Chan. Who makes sure it’s unanimous before he raises his. A united front.
“Okay, what about Gayo Daejejeon?” Chan asks. Again everyone else raises their hands. Again Chan waits to make sure it’s unanimous before he raises his. Minho wonders what would’ve happened if someone didn’t raise theirs. Chan never said it was majority rule. If one person refused would that’ve been enough?
Not that any of them would’ve refused.
“Okay,” Chan says softly. “I’ll let them know we’ll be attending both.” Another expression crosses his face but Minho barely gets a chance to parse it before it’s gone, his usual smile back on his face. “Now, since we have the BBMA’s coming up next, maybe we should go over the performance?”
“You’re the boss,” Minho says, nodding at the staff person by the sound system. “Your wish is our command.” And that’s the afternoon, rehearsing, fine tuning. By the time Chan calls it Minho could do the choreo in his sleep. Hell, he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t lie in bed that night, running over it in his head.
He leans back against the mirrored wall of the practice room, pouring the last of his water bottle into his mouth. He’s drenched in sweat, tired, his muscles sore but in a good way. He turns to Jisung, meeting his eyes and Jisung grins at him right before he gulps his water and Minho has to turn away so he doesn’t watch his Adam’s apple move with it.
Instead, he looks over at Yongbok who’s sprawled across Chan’s lap, guzzling from his own water bottle and Chan looks so fond it makes Minho’s face heat. He also looks a bit sad and it drives home what he gave up.
What he always gives up.
*****
The next week flies by, a blur of rehearsals, of shooting dance challenge footage. Of pre-taped interviews for a slew of other YouTube shows. Minho blinks and he’s walking through Incheon Airport to the States for the BBMA’s, flanked by their bodyguards, cameras flashing in his eyes. He thinks about when the airport decided to stop this for an entire day before they got so much backlash about ‘preferential treatment’ they backpedaled like their lives depended on it.
Because this is clearly the better solution. Being mobbed, holding up everyone else. Especially because the express check-in never works for Minho.
He’s feeling cursed at this point.
They make it through and at least they don’t have to sit in the lobby with everyone else as they wait to board. At least the airport caught on how much of a disaster that could be. Instead, they’re hustled onto the plane the moment the safety checks are done. Into first class, the kind that Minho used to dream of as he passed it on his way to coach. He opens his bag, pulling out his earbuds, earplugs, and laptop before he lets the attendant have his bag, stowing it above him. He drops into his seat, opening his laptop and pulling up some b-list horror movie he downloaded last night, cueing it up.
Just as Jisung drops down into the pod beside him. “Is this seat taken?” he asks, giving Minho that smile he has.
Minho snorts. “It is now.”
Jisung grins at him. Leans in as Minho moves his laptop over so they can both see the screen. “Ooh! I’ve been meaning to watch this,” he says. Like Minho didn’t know that. Like he didn’t download it, kinda sorta hoping they’d watch it together.
“Good news.” Minho waits as Jisung pulls out his own earbuds which are already paired to Minho’s laptop. He waits until they’ve taken off to start the movie but Jisung only gets through about half of it before he falls asleep, slumping against the half-barrier between their seats. Minho unbuckles his belt, maneuvering over to Jisung, gently adjusting him so he’s lying back, laying his own blanket over him.
The attendant hands him another blanket before he even manages to sit back down, with this smile that makes Minho’s face heat. Like she knows.
*****
The BBMA’s go well. Minho thinks. It’s mostly a blur between the last-minute costume fittings and shooting the two performances back-to-back, with completely different stages.
But they won for Top Global K-pop Artist this year, which is pretty cool.
After, they fly back to Korea to record a few videos, including a reaction video to the “Walkin’ on Water” music video and that’s fun. Then it’s right to the airport to fly to Thailand. Minho doesn’t even try to do anything else this time, immediately shoving a sleep mask over his eyes and a set of earplugs in his ears.
They arrive in Bangkok and make their way through that airport, whisked away to their hotel. Then it’s more promo, including an hour-long countdown live to the album’s release. It’s fun, it’s always fun when he’s with the other members but it’s still work. It’s not until he gets back to his hotel that he realizes he hasn’t even thought about Secret Santa all week.
He orders room service. Showers while he waits for it. Barely dries off before there’s a knock on the door. He shoves on the hotel robe and goes to the door just in time for another knock.
It’s not room service. It’s Jisung.
“Hey,” he says, running his eyes down Minho’s body. “Sorry if I’m bothering you.”
Minho smiles, stepping aside. “You’re never bothering me,” he replies. “I just ordered room service if you’re hungry.”
“Oh!” Jisung bites his lip. “I really don’t want to—”
“Don’t be stupid.” Minho pulls him into the room. “I ordered way too much, anyway.” Even so, he goes to the phone on the desk, punching in the number. “Hello,” he says in English. “I’m sorry, but if it’s not too late, I’d like to add to my order?”
“Of course, sir,” the person says. Some part of Minho knew they’d say that, but he didn’t want to assume.
Minho lifts his eyes to Jisung, who tries to look stern but his lips are twitching. “I’d like two slices of the New York cheesecake, please.”
“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Minho raises his brow but Jisung shakes his head.
“No, thank you so much.”
“Of course, sir. Please enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you.” The moment Minho hangs up, Jisung nearly pounces on him.
“You didn’t have to do that!” he exclaims.
Minho grins at him. “Of course I did.” Then goes over to his suitcase, pulling out a pair of sweats and a hoodie.
“You also don’t have to change on my account,” Jisung says, a teasing lilt to his voice. When Minho turns back to him, he’s got this look on his face. Like he’s not sure if he went too far.
Minho rolls his eyes. “You’ve seen me in less,” he says. “I was just cold.” Which is sort of true, but also he feels self-conscious. Like they’re skirting that line they always do and Minho doesn’t know whether to cross it or not. He didn’t think Jisung wanted to but here he is, in Minho’s hotel room, completely of his own volition.
But he barely made eye contact with him earlier, during their live.
Minho goes into the bathroom, only realizing once he’s in there he forgot to grab underwear. And he’s not about to go out just for that now. So, commando it is. When he comes back out, the room service has arrived and Jisung’s laying it out on the table, pulling off the covers.
“You ordered steak and chicken?” Jisung asks.
“I couldn’t decide.” Minho knows he looks sheepish.
“No.” Jisung shakes his head. “I mean you’re in Thailand and you ordered steak and chicken?”
Minho laughs as he reaches for the menu, passing it to Jisung. “Look.” He knows what he’ll find. That just about everything on the menu is Western. Or pasta.
“Oh.” He laughs, setting the menu down. “At least there is enough for both of us,” he says, shooting Minho a grin. Minho rolls his eyes, heading back to the bathroom for a towel, which he lays on the bed, setting both plates on it.
And both slices of cheesecake.
"Come on," he says, sitting down on the bed and flipping open his laptop. He pulls up the reaction video for the music video. When Jisung sits down beside him, he cuts the steak in half, setting half of it on the other plate, taking half the chicken.
They watch the video as they eat, Minho cutting off a piece of the steak and he can’t help but make some kind of noise. It’s so tender. “Here,” he says, immediately cutting off another piece and feeding it to Jisung. Even though he has his own. “Good?”
Jisung hums as he chews, smiling at Minho in that way he has. He picks up a French fry and feeds it to Minho. Then cuts some of the chicken, dragging it through the sauce before he brings it to Minho’s mouth. He barely has time to swallow before he takes it.
It’s so good.
Not to be outdone, he scoops up some garlic mashed potato and feeds it to Jisung. Jisung giggles as he takes it, turning to the screen. “Did you have your arm around Innie the entire time?” he asks.
Minho snorts. “Why? Jealous?” He spears a green bean, bringing it to Jisung’s mouth.
“Of course not.” He turns back to the screen, apparently absorbed in the video.
“No,” Minho says. Because he knows at some point he dropped his arm. It was probably a coincidence that it was during Jisung’s rap. That he let Jeongin go so he could lean closer to the screen.
To Jisung, who was sitting right in front of him.
Jisung steals the last bite of steak from Minho’s plate, popping into his mouth with a happy little hum. “Do you even have room for cheesecake?” Minho asks. Because he has the distinct impression that Jisung ate way more of that than he did. Jisung nods as he chews.
“I’ve been going to the gym with Binnie-hyung,” he says. “And Channie-hyung. I can’t believe how hungry I am, all the time.” He scoops up a giant mouthful of cheesecake and shovels it in, his cheeks doing that adorable chipmunk thing they do. Minho nearly leans in to kiss one of them, stopping himself right in time. Instead, he gets up, picking up their empty plates and setting them back on the desk. He opens the mini fridge, pulling out two bottles of water before he returns and by the time he settles back down, Jisung’s switched over to the countdown live. He holds his hand under another giant bite of cheesecake, bringing it to Minho’s mouth. “Here, it’s really good.”
He's right. Minho closes his eyes, moaning as the tang of the cream cheese hits his tongue. It’s been so long since he’s had anything sweet. They tend to stick to simpler food in the dorms, mostly chicken breast and veggies and brown rice. Healthy, but monotonous.
“Good, right?” Jisung has this look on his face when Minho opens his eyes, staring down at Minho’s mouth. Minho automatically wipes at it, assuming there’s something there and Jisung giggles. Rolls his eyes and feeds Minho another bite. Then reaches down and swipes at the corner of Minho’s mouth because there is a crumb there this time. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, Minho licks it off.
Jisung jerks his hand back like he’s been burned and Minho’s face is on fire. “Sorry, I—” Minho has no idea what to say. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” Jisung lifts his head and Minho realizes he’s laughing. “I was done, anyway.”
“Don’t be silly.” Minho pushes his cheesecake over. It’s barely touched. “Here.” He does not feed Jisung because that feels dangerous but he does watch as Jisung spears his fork into it, prying off a piece.
Which he feeds to Minho, which feels more dangerous. Minho takes it, immediately darting his tongue out to catch any crumbs.
Jisung’s watching him. He’s not laughing anymore.
Minho drops his eyes. Scrambles for something, anything— “Have you bought your Secret Santa gift yet?” he asks.
Jisung huffs out a laugh. It sounds like a sigh. He eats what looks like half the cake in a single bite and Minho can’t help but glance up because Jisung’s so cute it makes his heart ache.
What the fuck are they doing?
“No,” Jisung says around the cheesecake. “I, uh, don’t know what to get him.”
“Who did you pick?” Minho asks, giving Jisung a sly smile.
Jisung smiles back as he swallows. “Nice try.”
Minho raises his hands, innocent. “No, really! I can help! I’m really good at picking presents.”
“Hyung.” Jisung gives him a look. “You gave Binnie-hyung underwear for Christmas last year.”
Minho flings his arms out, barely not smacking Jisung in the head. “Which he needed!”
“It’s not exactly personal,” Jisung says.
“What’s more personal than underwear?” Minho protests. “You have to know what kind they like, what size they are—”
“Aish.” Jisung huffs out a laugh. “Fine, point made. But I’m not buying underwear for Secret Santa.”
“Okay.” Minho presses his mouth together. “What about hobbies? What do they do in their downtime? You could always get them something along those lines.” He grins at Jisung. “For instance, if I was to get you. I could just buy you a lifetime supply of notebooks and I’d be set.” Not that he’s planning to buy Jisung a bunch of notebooks. Actually, now that he has a minute to think about it, he’s not sure what to get him. Not that he doesn’t know Jisung well enough to know what he likes. If anything he knows him too well. Anything he picks willl be a dead giveaway and he’s not sure he wants Jisung to know how carefully he’s studied him. How closely he’s paid attention.
Jisung lifts a single brow. “You’d buy me notebooks,” he says.
“You’ll never know, will you?” Minho says. “Since you don’t know who your Secret Santa is.”
“Jagi.” Jisung’s expression goes serious. “Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me you haven’t swindled your way into getting my name?”
“Are you?” Minho retorts, mostly to take the focus off himself.
Jisung presses his mouth together. Doesn’t answer.
Interesting.
“I’m just throwing it out there but I find the best way to someone’s heart is to take care of the ones they love the most,” he says, making a note to text Changbin later, to tell him to send that link to the cat toys to Jisung.
“You’re right,” Jisung says, softly. “You are good at this.” He gives Minho a little smile. Then gets up. “I should go to my room,” he says. “We have an early day tomorrow.”
“Stay,” Minho says before he even registers he spoke. He lifts his eyes to Jisung, shoving down everything else he wants to say but Jisung must see something anyway because his eyes go a bit wide before he tamps it down. “You ate all my food. The least you can do is keep me company.”
Jisung nods. “Okay.” He grins at Minho, that one he seems to have just for him. “I’ll be right back.” He leaves and Minho immediately snatches his phone.
Me: did you trade with Jisungie?
He stares at his phone but nothing happens. Maybe Changbin already went to bed. It’s still early, only nine local time, but it’s been a long day. And Jisung was right, tomorrow’s going to be another one.
Then he sees the text bubbles.
Changbin: no
Me: liar
Changbin: why are you asking me if you already know the answer?
Me: did you send him the link to the cat toys?
Changbin: no
i figured your soulmate would know you well enough to figure it out himself
Me: wait
Because Minho realizes.
Me: you didn’t trade with Seungminie?
Changbin: no, I did
Minho blinks. The only way that makes sense is if Changbin traded with Jisung first, then traded whoever Jisung had picked with Seungmin for Hyunjin.
Me: who did Jisung pick?
Changbin: 😈😈😈😈😈
Minho can’t help but laugh. Because that means only three people out of eight managed to keep the person they initially picked. He’s not sure if Chan would be impressed or annoyed.
“What’s so funny?” Jisung asks as he comes back in. Because of course he took one of Minho’s key cards with him. He’s wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt. Because he always runs cold. He comes over to the bed, kicking off his slippers, sliding under the covers.
Minho shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says as he gets up, going into the bathroom and brushing his teeth. He comes back and joins Jisung under the covers, turning out his bedside lamp, scrolling around on his laptop until he finds a movie they’ve both seen so many times they could quote the dialogue.
And falls asleep before the opening credits finish.