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A day before everyone leaves for winter break, Jisung barges into Changbin's dorm. "Hyung!" He yells, "Hyung!"
"Behind you, brat," Changbin answers. Jisung spins around, only for his eyes to be assaulted (not for the first time) by the sight of Felix and Changbin chilling half-naked in the tiny kitchenette, destroying warm bowls of ramen. "Yo," Changbin greets.
"Hi, baby!" Felix waves.
"Don't give us that look, Sung."
"I'm not giving you any looks, hyung. I can't even see right now because of the two of you!” Jisung bemoans, even though he has no problem meeting Felix’s gaze to reply, “Hi, Lixie!"
"Why are you here, Jisung?" Changbin retorts.
"Can I have that CD I asked you to keep– stop smirking."
"Yeah, Sung, gimme a sec."
"Oh my god, my eyes!" Jisung wails, gagging at the hickeys and claw marks crawling from Changbin's nape down to the waistband of his boxers. "My eyes!"
"Brat!"
"It's not that bad, Sungie," Felix says, lazily slurping up noodles like he doesn't look equally as mauled as his boyfriend.
"And it's my dorm. I can do what I want," Changbin chimes in, still in only his boxers, appearing with a black plastic CD case in hand. Inscribed on the front in almost illegible handwriting is ‘For: Mr. Lee’. On the back are the tracklist and crude little drawings of bunnies, cats and that silly face Minho doodles in all his notebooks. Jeromes or something is what he’d called it during one of their ‘study’ sessions at Jisung’s house.
"Thanks." Jisung stuffs the CD into the front pocket of his hoodie… Minho's hoodie. He should really return it. It's the same emerald green pullover from the game night – big and comfy and Minho-scented. Jisung had returned it multiple times at this point actually, yet it kept finding its way back into his very willing hands.
"Are you going over to Minho's now?"
“Gotta drop by a store to get a gift bag and a few other things first.”
"Cool, cool," Felix responds, furiously typing out something on his phone.
"Uh, are you guys ready for tomorrow?" Jisung asks, side-eyeing Felix as he continues to type.
"Yeah. My sister's coming for Felix and I in the afternoon. How are you and Chan getting home?"
"Chan's renting a car. He’s grabbing it sometime in the morning and then waking me up. He wants to leave by noon."
"You are not going to wake up for that."
"If I can get my morning routine done in fifteen minutes he's carrying me and my stuff to the car. That's the deal."
"You're packed?"
"Yeah–"
"–Shocker."
Jisung glares at him, choosing to not fight the dumb little jab for once, continuing, "And Chan's stuff has been packed for a few days now."
"Of course it has. Are we still on for dinner tonight?"
"I might be a little late 'cause of, well, you know."
"We know," Felix assures, giggling.
Jisung fights the heat rising up his neck. "Is San still coming?" He asks.
"If Wooyoung remembered to invite him," Changbin says wearily.
"So, I'm asking Minho to text him?"
"Please." The eldest of the three sighs. "I knew your annoying ass thing with Minho-hyung would come in handy at some point."
"Hater."
"With good reason."
"Well, you and Felix–"
"You're losing daylight," Changbin declares, pushing Jisung towards the door, "Good luck," he says before slamming and locking the door in Jisung's face.
• • •
Minho has just taken out the second tray of berry-filled tarts when there's a knock at his front door. He doesn't think much of it (his first error). It's probably just a package for Hyunjin.
He'd told Minho about something, something ‘very important delivery’ something, something ‘he'd be boyfriend-less by Boxing Day otherwise’. Minho's pretty sure that was all he needed to remember. He hoped that was all. When Hyunjin had rushed out this morning, Minho had been almost completely absorbed in kneading dough and hadn't gotten a moment since to use his phone let alone check if he'd missed something.
He yanks off his oven mitts before rushing to the door, leaving on his apron (his second error). "What are you baking?" Jisung asks as soon as Minho opens the door.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
Minho almost slams the door shut, yelping, "Nothing!" He cringes a little after. The scent of strawberry and raspberry jam wafts out of his apartment, he's wearing his favourite baking apron and there’s flour all over his hands and face. "Why are you–" Minho clears his throat. "Shouldn't you be packing?"
"Chan forced me to last night," Jisung replies, frowning at the memory.
"Of course he did…… so.” They'd made plans for today and then solidified those plans last night. Did Minho misread? Did Jisung forget? Did Minho miss something? His phone had been buzzing up a storm an hour ago, but he'd been too focused on making sure the tarts came out the oven on time to find out why there was so much noise.
"Can I…" Jisung starts asking, stepping forward cautiously.
"No!" Minho yells, horrified at himself when Jisung takes two surprised steps back, clutching tighter at the gift bag that Minho hadn't noticed till now.
"Oh, shit. Did you come to return clothes? You could have waited, sugar. I thought I was coming over before your roommate dinner. Or is this something else? Did I forget my charger at yours again? I'm sorry for shouting–"
"Min." Jisung forces out a laugh. Minho shuts up instantly, glancing once again at the gift bag. Jisung's hands are shaking, he realizes, making the large, shiny red bag sway and twist and rustle loudly. Rustle. It's because of the green wrapping tissue. Red and green–
"Ji, you didn't have to get me anything."
"I wanted to," Jisung insists, his voice beginning to shake too.
Minho doesn't know what possesses him, but in a swift movement he pulls Jisung both into the house and his arms, maneuvering them so that he can kick the door closed. Better. It takes a moment, but the other eventually relaxes into the hug, most definitely enjoying the softness of Hyunjin's shirt and the smell of strawberry shampoo and shea butter soap.
"You couldn't have done this in the hallway?" Jisung asks.
"And let my neighbours see me in a moment of weakness? I have a reputation to uphold, Mr Han!” Minho jests.
"You didn't have to yank me inside."
"You asked to come in."
"Not like that," Jisung argues even though there’s absolutely no heat to his words, pressing his forehead to Minho's shoulder. "I'm–" going to miss you, he wants to say. Minho knows. "I–” Jisung's struggle is almost reassuring. They've only known each other for a little over a month and a half. They shouldn't be this close, they shouldn't miss each other during major breaks. Yet. “Minho, I–”
Minho shushes him. "You don't have to say it. I know."
"Am I that obvious?"
"Just extra clingy all week."
"I'm sorry."
"Not complaining."
"Are the baked goods for me? Is that why you were hiding them?"
Minho pats Jisung's butt and begins to pull away, Jisung making a disgruntled noise and holding on tighter in response. The brunette laughs, hugging him extra tight for a moment before explaining, "The tarts are for you and Chan to share, but if you let me go I could go get your other gift."
"Go ahead." Jisung easily releases Minho, grinning. Shaking his head fondly, Minho leaves to his room, returning a minute later with a medium-sized wrapped box.
"Don't open it till Christmas," he says, exchanging his box for Jisung's gift bag.
"Same for yours."
"Call me when you do?"
Jisung smiles, taunting, "Aw, you're gonna miss me too!"
"Too?" Minho smirks.
"Uh, um– I didn't… I didn't mean it like that!"
"Sure you didn't, gorgeous." Ruffling Jisung's hair, Minho starts to walk back to the kitchen.
"Hyung, I didn't!"
"Come help me pack the tarts, Jiji!"
• • •
Jisung has had a song stuck in his head all day and it's Chan's fault of course. Always is. This morning, he'd left the apartment with the question 'What is love?' and its corresponding chorus blaring from their sound system and had returned home after visiting Minho's with the lyrics on repeat in his brain.
Although, he can't complain. Especially when it's midnight and he and Chan are holding hands, bellies stuffed, social batteries drained (well maybe only Jisung's) and Jisung is humming that insanely catchy chorus.
"Ji," Chan mutters, unbothered by how Jisung swings their hands happily. "Hannie," he says a little louder, Jisung unable to hear him over his humming and the cold winter winds. "Hannie!"
Finally hearing him, Jisung almost trips over his own feet at the nickname. Chan rarely calls him that. Didn’t even do it that much in high school where the nickname originated. "What's up?"
"Actually… nothing. Nevermind."
"Gotta be something, Channie. You didn't call me 'Hannie' for nothing."
Chan slows down, bringing their walking speed down to a stroll rather than running from the cold like they had been. "It's just… am I allowed to be sappy for a second?"
"You haven't met your quota for the year, so go ahead."
"I hate that Seungmin keeps count."
"It's only fair since you keep count of his crimes."
"I'm doing us all a favour!"
"You're stalling, hyung."
"Sorry." Chan takes a deep breath. Jisung prepares himself as well. It's rare that Chan uses 'Hannie' on him, but it's even rarer that Chan is sentimental with Jisung, lets the younger hear his worries and other ruminations. Jisung needs to be serious.
"Do you remember when you moved in last year?"
Okay, Jisung could be serious but not about this grudge. "Second term, very last minute with very little help because someone wouldn't skip class to help the friend they put in need,” he lists off, adding, “Yes, I remember."
"You are never letting that go, aren't you?"
"A Han never forgets."
"Whatever. Hannie, I didn't say it then, but I'll say it now: I'm really glad you moved in. You found me in such bad shape in September and you stuck around. You even moved in that January when my last roommate got tired of me and left and I begged you or Changbin to fill their place because I couldn't stand the thought of being alone." Jisung feels Chan's hand squeeze his own lightly. "I'm really grateful, Sung. So grateful that I really can't express it properly through words."
Jisung stops walking, taking Chan's other hand so that they're facing each other now. It's freezing out here, but Jisung doesn't care. Spotlighted by a yellow-hued streetlight, he watches as snowflakes land in Chan's hair and contrast against freshly dyed brown curls. His mouth is hidden by the scarf Seungmin gifted him last Christmas and his hands are covered by the gloves he stole from Jisung at the start of autumn. He looks healthy and happy and so different than he was last year, better than he was last year. That's why it's easy for Jisung to say, "He hurt you, Chan. That evil son of a bitch hurt you so bad last year that whenever I fucking find him I'll rip his kidneys out with my bare hands and feed them to him." Jisung lets out a surprisingly ragged breath, staring down at their joined hands. He'd forgotten how angry this topic made him. "But I love you too much to go to jail. I love you too much to ever see you suffer like that again. I love you too much, period. Channie, I would've climbed Mount Everest with you last year if it made you feel better. Moving in was nothing. I wasn't going to let you suffer alone and I'm still not. You're an amazing musician and roommate and friend and hyung and that asshole, that shit-stain of a person, can burn in hell for all I care… your ex, not your old roommate." The blue-haired boy raises his head, concerned by their hands beginning to shake and it, for once, not being Jisung's doing. “Channie,” he whispers.
Jisung envelopes Chan in an embrace, stroking his hair and letting him cry quietly on his shoulder. The two of them are a bundle of winter coats and warmth amongst the bitter cold of mid-December. "I'm sorry for crying like– like this," Chan hiccups into his neck, holding him as though he's going to lose Jisung if he lets go.
"There's no one here but us, hyung. Don't worry." Jisung combs his fingers through Chan's hair a few more times. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah," Chan replies, pulling back to wipe at his face furiously before Jisung takes over. He pulls the soft long-sleeved shirt under his winter jacket over his hands so that he can more gently dab at Chan's face. Pausing after to inspect his work, Jisung decides to let the intrusive thoughts win for once. He presses a quick kiss to the apple of Chan's blotchy right cheek, cooing at the flustered expression it garners him. "I'm sorry," Chan whispers when Jisung stops teasing him about his blushing. "I'm really sorry."
"It's fine, Channie, it's all good. We can have some of Minho's tarts and watch The Nightmare Before Christmas when we get home and–"
"No, not about that. In the past, I'm sorry I could never be – um – well…"
"Oh." Jisung laughs as though Chan has brought up the funniest inside joke and not their most embarrassing shared memory. "Hyung, that was so long ago! Forget about it – seriously – I got a really cool and amazing friend out of it anyways."
"I thought a Han never forgets?" Chan quips, bashful.
"For my own sanity, I had to forget that." Taking ahold of Chan's hand again, Jisung tugs at him while complaining, "Now can we go home? I think my toes are going numb if they're not already." Chan concedes easily, letting Jisung swing their hands like before as they continue their trek back home. Chan has almost lost himself amongst his thoughts when Jisung starts nattering on to fill the silence, "I'll make you hot chocolate, too. When we get home I mean. With fresh marshmallows and extra chocolate, just how you like it. Want that?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Ji," Chan answers distractedly, taking in how the silver piercings along Jisung's left ear and the red rubies dangling from his lobes shine in the moonlight. His blue hair is mused from being put in a headlock by Wooyoung and his cheeks red from the cold as well as the wine they drank earlier. He's grown a lot. They've grown a lot.
Jisung turns his head to grin at him. "No problem, hyung."
• • •
stupid face: i hate men.
butt head: what did jisung do this time??
butt head: …
butt head: so help me god if you send another selca of his 'adorably squishable face' lee minho
stupid face: he gave me a christmas present.
butt head: you gave him one too???
butt head: a very expensive one if i remember correctly
stupid face: yeah well he got me a stupidly thoughtful gift
stupid face: and dori's looking at me all weird now because i may or may not be crying.
butt head: awwww jisung made the big bad minho cryyyyy
butt head: i should send him a screenshot of this just to torture you a little more :)
stupid face: don't you dare.
stupid face: i've still got those clippers from when you shaved and dyed chan's hair.
butt head: god he needs to bring back that look
butt head: red looked way too good on him
stupid face: i'm telling your bfs you're thirsting again!
butt head: and they'll agree w/ me!
butt head: but okay okay i get the threat
butt head: don't come for me in the night with the stupid razor
butt head: this hair length took too much time and effort to lose it so soon
stupid face: ok i won't
stupid face: …for now
butt head: i'll take it.
stupid face: good.
butt head: oh fyi we're opening presents right now
butt head: so expect a call very soon <3
Wiping at his face roughly, Minho lays back on his sleeping mat. All three of his cats are sat at different points in his childhood bedroom, observing him warily from their spots. He'd hid away here for a moment to open the presents his friends sent him off to Gimpo with. Meanwhile, his parents were in the kitchen, preparing to host a small Christmas dinner, none the wiser of his tears.
Though music is playing, it's oddly quiet. Too quiet. It's actually made being home an adjustment. It had been easier last year, Minho supposes, he'd actually looked forward to coming home for winter and summer break, getting a well-needed break from his roommate and friends and school work and now ex-boyfriend. But this year it wasn't so.
Minho had thought about it while waiting to open his presents earlier today. About the silence and how it was now unbearable, unwelcome. For the first time, Minho actually missed the chaos of it all. He missed the constant noise that filled his shared college apartment, missed the buzz of busy coffee machines and busier students, missed Ji– no, no, no.
Minho throws an arm over his eyes, one of his favourite songs pouring from the CD player he had to unearth from the recesses of his closet. It's a love song, sung with soft vocals and an even gentler acoustic guitar accompaniment. The CD is an overall split between songs Minho has shown Jisung and songs Jisung probably thought Minho would like. All of them are written down in chronological order on the back of the black case for future reference. It’s small and it’s perfect and it’s only a third of Jisung’s overall gift.
The song changes, plays out and then it changes again. Eyes still covered, Minho’s just about calmed down enough to rejoin his parents outside when his phone rings.
• • •
Jisung pulls out his phone with shaking hands and blurred vision. He clicks on the most recently called number, trying to control his breathing. It rings a few times before the person picks up, Jisung not letting them speak before he can gurgle out, "H-Hyung?"
'Jiji? Are you okay? Are you crying?'
"No…maybe," Jisung blubbers, a sob breaking through when he remembers why he called.
'Oh, sugar.'
"I'm sorry."
'It's absolutely okay. Why are you crying, gorgeous?'
"I-I- shit, I opened your gift."
'Oh, do you like it?'
"I can hear you smirking, you ass!" Jisung reprimands through tears.
'Why not? I wrapped it all by myself. Took two days to make that heartfelt card, too. I think I deserve a self-given pat on the back.'
"Not helping!"
'I'm sorry,' Minho responds, sounding a little more alarmed at the sound of Jisung crying harder. 'You do like it, though, right?'
"I d-do. The card's super cute."
'And the headphones?'
"They're $400, Minho!"
'Hyunjin chipped in.'
"Still, hyung. You didn't have to."
'I wanted to.'
"But–"
'I wanted to, Sung. I know how you do with crowds after what you insist was a quote-unquote 'minor freak out' at the end-of-term showcase and I know how much you need them for producing after your other ones kicked the bucket. It was a no-brainer, pretty.'
"Your gift only cost me like 50 bucks, though."
'Yeah, but you got me the cat toy set I've wanted for over a year now and made me the cutest personalized playlist I've ever received and you got me those two volumes of manga I couldn't find anywhere and you even attached the bookstore location so I can go there as well. It's a great gift!'
"We can go together if you want after winter break," Jisung mutters.
'I'd love that,' Minho replies. Jisung exhales shakely, wiping at his face with the collar of his sweatshirt. 'Have you calmed down now?' Minho asks.
"Yes. You really didn't have to spend so much on me. We've only known each other for two months, Min!"
'Does that really matter to you, Ji?'
"No," he whispers after a long pause.
'I thought so. Listen, Jisung. Go enjoy your Christmas with you new headphones and cute butt–'
"Did you have to add that?"
'Absolutely. Now go and don't forget to send me any blackmail-worthy pictures of Hyunjin and Changbin!'
"None for Seungmin, Jeongin and Chan?"
'They have shit on me. Can't risk it.'
"Okay, hyung." Jisung zips and unzips one of the pockets on his cargo pants… Chan's cargo pants that Jisung accidentally packed and wore. "Tell your mom and dad I said hi and tell the kids that Co-parent #2 misses them."
'Will do… and… could he, by any chance, possibly be missing Co-parent #1?'
"What if I said that he very hypothetically did?"
'I'd say that Co-parent #1 very hypothetically does as well.'
"Cool," Jisung replies, voice cracking in a very uncool manner, Minho snickering at it.
'Merry Christmas, Jisung.'
"Merry Christmas, hyung."
'Now should I put SoonDoongDori on the phone so you can talk to them before you go?'
"Yes, please!"
Jisung talks a little more with Minho and the cats until his brother and an audibly worried Chan yell for him. Jisung tries to distract him from it, but alas it doesn't work and Minho convinces him to end the call. So, with a sigh, Jisung opens the bathroom door and– "Fuck!" He almost hops out of his skin.
"Was that Minho?" Hyunjin asks as though he hadn't just tried to kill his best friend from shock.
"Jesus, Hyunjin!"
"Sorry…not really. Was it him?"
"Yeah?"
Hyunjin smiles cryptically, nodding. "Are you okay now?"
"Just needed a moment alone."
"Alone… with Minho?"
"No."
"Sure. Anyways, that's all I needed to know," Hyunjin says, spinning around and sauntering back to Jisung's brother's living room. He stops in the doorway, smiling over his shoulder at Jisung. "Oh, he likes your gift just as much as you like his, by the way! Don't worry about that!"
Both grateful for and confused by Hyunjin's words, Jisung shrugs before following him to the kitchen. As he helps put the ham in the oven, he feels a pang in his chest at the thought that someone is missing. He's just about to dismiss it when he remembers what Minho said. Jisung misses Minho. He's known him for almost two months and he misses him, he misses him so much and regardless of what that may mean it's okay.