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♡♡♡
Snow falls thick and fast as the taxi rumbles to a stop in the drop-off zone of Incheon airport, instantly dusting Ricky’s hair and the shoulders of his long wool trench coat in white as he steps out, bag in hand and red scarf wrapped snugly round his ears. He shivers, tucking his head down against the icy winter wind as he makes his way inside, joining a crush of harried travelers all trying to reach their destinations in time for the holidays.
It’s four days before Christmas and so the airport is decorated in massive red and gold baubles hanging from the high ceilings, fake trees sitting beside the check-in counters and baggage drop off areas. Ricky puts in earbuds and pulls his arms in close to his sides as he navigates through the throng of people, crying babies, and clearly exhausted airport staff.
At his airline counter he waits in line for around an hour, turning up the volume on his music and thinking longingly of California’s blue skies and palm trees while the Seoul night outside the enormous windows turns black and stormy, snow now piling up atop every shrub and spindly tree. Ricky has no baggage to check and so receives his boarding pass without ever taking off his mask, slipping through the crowds (which seem to have doubled) on his way to the security line.
Again he waits and again he calms himself by thinking about LA and the scent of his mom’s perfume when she hugs him and how good it will feel to be home.
He sends a photo of a tiny dog in a purse to Gyuvin— it reminds him of Eumpappa— and tells Hao that, yes, he did make it to the airport and he is early and no, he didn’t forget his passport— and watches a silly video Hanbin’s sent them all of a hamster eating celery.
The line advances and Ricky wheels his suitcase forward, sweating under his coat because of how many people are packed in all around him. He thinks he can hear someone yelling, over his music, but he decides to turn up the volume again.
Ricky is an expert at flying now after so many hours spent at the airport and on planes with his members, and even before that asan international trainee, and so when he reaches the security counter he has his shoes off and his electronics out and his things piled in plastic trays in a flash. He removes his phone and earbuds last of all, wincing at the cacophony of sounds that hit his ears— someone is yelling still in another part of the airport and there’s an announcement in Japanese filtering through the speakers and the security agents are forcing an older woman to take off every one of her dozens of metal bangles— but he makes it through the machines easily and is reunited with his possessions.
Through security, Ricky texts the ZB1 group chat, and then he puts on his shoes and smooths his hair and goes in search of a snack. It’s late afternoon in Seoul but the airport is lit up like a Christmas tree, last minute gifts for sale everywhere, so Ricky buys fried rice and California sushi and a frosty bottle of green tea, then goes to find his gate.
He passes several clusters of very disgruntled looking passengers; the announcements are so loud now that he really has to turn up his music, but Ricky is cool and collected and he’s already looking forward to falling asleep on the plane. There’s a certain peace that comes with flying— the knowledge that he is suspended thousands of miles in the air with no responsibilities other than sitting still and being a good passenger— which he likes very much.
Flying during the holidays, as stressful as it can be, is all worth it whenever Ricky touches down in California and the pilot will inevitably wish the passengers happy holidays and welcome them home.
At my gate, he texts, and receives a cute panda sticker from Hao and a thumbs up from Jiwoong and several sun emojis from Matthew. Ricky smiles at his phone, just a little, and settles into a seat at his mostly deserted gate.
He’s early but that’s how Ricky likes it; he plugs in his phone and watches the new historical chef drama while he eats, occasionally reacting to the photos his members are sending of their own holidays.
Hao had been the first to leave, catching a flight so late into the night of their final day of promotions for the new single that it had been almost morning. He’d decided he wanted a tan for Christmas so he’s in Singapore with some of his new idol friends, wearing tiny shorts and sending too many close-up photos of his collarbones and throat in the groupchat— Hanbin hasn’t been reacting with words since the third photo arrived.
Yujin and Gunwook left next, piling into their parents’ cars and calling out demands for group video gaming sessions and forgetting half their belongings in the dorm living room. Then Gyuvin went, his mom pressing a tray of cookies into Ricky’s hands and kissing his cheek, and soon Matthew was speeding away on a train to spend Christmas with his aunt and uncle and sister because he said he was too tired to fly all the way home to Canada.
Their leader and their oldest member stayed with him the longest but Ricky promised he’d be fine and practically shoved them out the door, though not before they both slipped him money and kissed him on the head. Hanbin was going home to his family too and Jiwoong was heading to a spa resort with some of his acting friends, already chattering about the different treatments even as Ricky watched him climb into a taxi.
In the span of three days he went from eight members to none and then it was just Ricky, and their dorm, and even though the space they live in seems so tiny when they’re fighting over showers and laundry and whose pants are on the table, it had echoed as he locked the door behind himself and walked away this morning.
Now, though, there’s a warmth in Ricky’s chest because he’s flying home to his mom and to California and because even if he doesn’t know all the travelers around him, they’re people flying home to their families too. It’s the magic of the holidays, being with the ones you love, and Ricky can hardly wait to board his flight as an hour slowly drags by and the seats of his gate fill up.
When their boarding should be in about twenty minutes, people begin to stand and line up. Ricky never does this because he likes to sit as long as possible and because they’re all getting on the same plane so it doesn’t really matter who’s first, but he does neatly pack away his things and take out his passport and boarding pass. There’s flight attendants at the desk, glossy heads bent together as they talk, and he can faintly hear announcements still echoing through the terminal.
It must be a very busy day at the airport, so many crowds of people standing around and waiting in line at the help desk Ricky can just spot at the end of the terminal. Outside the enormous glass windows he can see planes slowly pulling up to gates, dusted in white and leaving tracks in the piles of snow now covering the runways and tarmac.
“Passengers on flight LH1774 to Los Angeles,” a smooth voice says over the speakers and Ricky removes his earbuds for the first time, sitting up straight as all around him people quiet down. “We regret to inform you that due to an approaching snowstorm, all flights have been cancelled. Please speak to our colleagues at the help desk to arrange alternative travel plans.”
Ricky’s heart squeezes his tight as all around him other passengers erupt into angry questions and complaints, many of them already racing for the help desk.
He’s not going home for Christmas today.
♡♡♡
Ricky spends that night in a hotel at the airport, stubbornly certain that when he wakes in the morning the snowstorm will have been averted and he’ll be able to board his replacement flight, which he’d had to spend twenty minutes arguing with the help desk employees to secure. Instead, when he opens his eyes at nine am, he finds all of Seoul buried in several feet of fluffy white snow, every plane snugly blanketed under the snow and alerts on his phone about dangerous travelling conditions.
As the day drags by and Ricky paces around his sterile hotel room, the hems of his pajama pants dragging on the beige carpet and phone open to a video call with his mom, the snowstorm only grows worse. Freezing rain falls but instead of helping to melt away the snow it turns the roads into a slick, dangerous mess of invisible black ice, and more warnings go out. Cars are grounded just like the planes and then the trains running that evening, the tracks too slick and the temperatures too frigid to safely maintain travel.
Seoul is buried in snow and Ricky is all alone and so, on the second full day in the hotel spent surviving on vending machine candy and bland, overpriced room service, he packs his suitcase again and goes home to the dorm. He has to wait in line for almost an hour to get a taxi and the fare is outrageously expensive but Ricky’s running out of clean sweaters (he packed for warmer weather) and he’s sick of sleeping in an unfamiliar bed and he’s finally given up hope of making it home to his mom in time for Christmas.
Their dorm is chilly and much too silent when he steps through the front door, shaking snow off his coat because it’s still falling thick and fast and deadly-silent, but at least it smells familiar and at least there’s a living room and a kitchen with actual food– though they’d emptied out all the perishables so Ricky has ramen and seaweed crackers for dinner.
He hates how silent their dorm is, how ghostly he feels as he walks down the hallway past all their empty rooms and closed doors and unmoving, frozen things that don’t serve a purpose with all his members gone. He’s been texting his members every day, updating them on his cancelled flights and feeling increasingly sorry for himself as they sent back pictures of home cooked meals and pets and their cozy movie nights with siblings and cousins and grandparents.
Ricky doesn’t want to be alone for Christmas, but today is the 23rd and unless the snow melts entirely overnight, he isn’t going to reach his mom in time to celebrate with her. He showers quickly and pulls on clothes from Jiwoong’s closet, thick and warm and smelling sweetly of their hyung’s favorite detergent, and then crawls into Hao’s bed. He feels like a trainee again, sick for home and his family and everything familiar in a strange country, except Hao isn’t here to pet his hair and keep him company.
Closing his eyes and burrowing deeper into the nest of Hao’s blankets, which still carry the familiar smell of his dearest hyung, Ricky falls asleep with all the lights on bright and tears trembling on his lashes.
♡♡♡
Someone pounding on the front door wakes him suddenly from sleep, Ricky’s heart racing before he even fully opens his eyes. He’s disoriented, forgetting where he is for a moment and with no idea what time it is because there’s no window in Hao’s room and his phone is buried deep somewhere in the nest of blankets. His mouth is dry and he has to rub the dried salt from his eyes before he can fully register the world, and whoever’s out there is still trying to batter down the door from the sounds of it.
Frightened despite the familiar space, Ricky climbs from bed and tiptoes down the hallway, holding himself tight as his heart beats faster and faster. What if it’s a crazed fan who wants to kidnap him? What if it’s a murderer, or the paparazzi, and his members return in January to find him missing and only streaks of blood left on the floor?
Ricky chooses the second largest knife from the kitchen and positions himself in front of the door, wishing that he weren’t alone and feeling very frightened. It’s clear whoever is trying to get in isn’t simply going to leave and so, in his dazed brain, it makes sense to open the door and confront them.
He unlocks the door and swings it open all at once, knife raised and feet planted, his muscles braced for impact.
“Hyung!” Yujin tumbles through the doorway, wrapped in what seems to be three different coats and several dozen scarves, every inch of him covered so that only his eyes and the pink tip of his nose are visible. He’s also weighed down by several dozen bags, which are the only thing that prevent him from tripping straight onto the knife’s blade.
“Ah!” Ricky cries, just as loud, both of them freezing and staring at each other with very wide eyes. His heart hasn’t gotten the message that he isn’t in danger and so it’s bouncing crazily around his chest, making his ribs hurt and his breathing difficult.
“You were going to stab me!” Yujin accuses, leveling a fuzzy mitten at Ricky and possibly making an upset face, though it’s hard to tell beneath the scarves and hat and earmuffs he wears.
“No,” Ricky denies, setting the knife down quickly and reaching out for Yujin, though he stops and wrinkles his nose when he realizes the teenager is covered in melting snow. “You look like a Yeti.”
“That’s because there’s a blizzard, hyung,” Yujin says in his snotty maknae voice, sticking his nose in the air and pushing into the entrance, getting more melted snow on Ricky’s slippers and bringing with him a gust of cold air even though the hallway is heated. “Everything’s buried in snow. I had to fight battles to get here, hyung!”
Slightly dazed still, Ricky closes the door and follows after Yujin (and Yujin’s trail of snow-puddles) as the teenager sheds his scarves and coats and many hats, throwing them wherever he likes because no one’s here to ask him to pick up after himself. Yujin collapses onto the living room couch, letting out an enormous sigh as he sets his bags down, his cheeks flushed cherry red from the cold.
“Battles?” Ricky asks, curling up on the couch beside Yujin and peeking curiously into one of the bags, which smells deliciously of banchan. “What happened?”
Yujin tugs a blanket over them both and then slumps dramatically against Ricky’s knees, trying to tuck his icy fingers into the crook of Ricky’s arm so he can steal his heat– an old favorite trick of his. Ricky squawks but relents after a moment, accepting the ten icicles clutching his skin.
“You’re so warm,” Yujin sighs happily, closing his eyes for a moment; his lashes lay long and thick against his cherry cheeks. “Ah. My parents dropped me off– we used my haraboji’s car, with the winter tires and everything. It’s so old that you have to crank the windows up and down!”
“Yujinnie,” Ricky says, petting the teenager’s damp hair and leaning over to peer down at him, making a silly face, “it’s almost Christmas. Why are you here?”
Yujin shifts on the couch, wriggling around until he’s half-curled on his back with his head on Ricky’s knees and his fingers clutching the hem of Ricky’s borrowed sweatshirt, something sweetly innocent in his face even as he stares up at Ricky, limbs sprawled everywhere and hair tousled. “It’s Christmas, hyung. We always spend it together.”
Ricky doesn’t have anything to say to that, his throat suddenly thick. He and Yujin have spent several drafty Christmas nights in the trainee dorms of their company, huddled together in bed watching cheesy movies in the dim light of one strand of twinkly lights, fighting over takeout chicken and blasting Christmas music too loud in an attempt to make the cramped dorm feel a bit more like a cozy home. Yujin never complained, those first two years it was just the two of them– he never mentioned going home to be with his family, never left Ricky alone to celebrate Christmas by himself.
They were growing too fast back then, always hungry and panicked about never debuting and both a little too anxious to talk much, but when Ricky and Yujin curled up under one blanket and traded candy in the empty dorm, Ricky didn’t miss home quite so much.
Ricky pets through Yujin’s hair, remembering when the teenager was even smaller and more angular than he is now, when his face was all shiny eyes and bunny teeth, when he was so small that he could tuck himself perfectly beneath Ricky’s chin when they curled up and slept in one bed.
“Won’t your family miss you?” He asks, because Yujin’s been talking about nothing besides finally having a vacation and going home to his parents and his brother and all his extended relatives, had practically sprinted to the car when they came to pick him up and had spent months choosing the perfect presents for everyone.
Yujin wriggles again, waving his hand around on the floor in search of the bags. “It was getting crowded and my cousins were fighting! Eomma said I should escape, and she packed food for us.”
Ricky brightens, inhaling deeply as Yujin opens another bag and the scent of grilled meat fills the room. “Can we–”
“I’m hungry, Ricky-hyung,” Yujin says, kicking his feet up on the back of the couch and grinning at him, sprawled upside down now and looking perfectly at home– as if he isn’t intending to move from this position for many, many hours. “Go get chopsticks so we can eat!”
Ricky very gently pokes Yujin’s squishy cheek and then does as he’s commanded, grabbing soda from the fridge and feeling an indescribable warmth in his chest that he doesn’t think he can put into words. The dorm seems livelier already, not nearly so echoey and cold now that Yujin’s turned on the TV and is muttering angrily about the lack of Christmas movies playing, the scent of homemade food gradually filling the air.
With light steps, Ricky returns to Yujin and hands over a drink and chopsticks and a wad of napkins, reaching for a bag and the delicious food waiting for them. He hopes it’s still warm.
♡♡♡
They spend the morning watching a very silly American Christmas movie and then several older Disney cartoons that have nothing to do with the holidays, but Ricky finds himself laughing anyway as he sits cross-legged on the couch and steadily works his way through several boxes of food. Yujin’s mom is an amazing cook and her food tastes like warmth and love; they fight over the fried chicken, of course, but Yujin lets him have his favorite cucumber banchan and even shares fried tofu skewers.
They get up for drinks and more blankets and to drag some of Yujin’s plushies from his room– apparently they need to watch the movies too– but otherwise they barely move, draping themselves over the enormous couch and each other and being as lazy as possible. Yujin falls asleep against Ricky for a little while, his mouth open and a smear of sauce on his cheek, his fingers still loosely clutched around a napkin as his arm drapes to the floor.
Ricky loves him so much that his chest heats; he curls up around Yujin and turns his face to the windows, watching the snow continue to fall and feeling much warmer and cozier even with the city blanketed in freezing white, because he isn’t alone. He might not be at home with his mom but he’s in his Korean home, with his Yujinnie, who has always felt like family.
When Matthew opens the door suddenly, without any warning at all, Ricky and Yujin are both lightly dozing and so they bolt upright– screeching at the sight of an intruder and then screeching louder in delight when they realize who’s standing over them, beaming and holding a pine tree.
“Hey,” Matthew says over their yelling, peering down at the many containers still full of food, which they’d been too lazy to pack away. “Are those snacks? I’m starving!”
“Hyung!” Yujin cries, shifting to his knees and throwing his arms around Matthew, who’s still wearing his winter puffer and has snow in his hair, “you came too!”
Ricky is also gazing up at Matthew with wide eyes, feeling very glad but also very confused to see their hyung.
“Oh, yeah,” Matthew agrees idly, still focused on the food and now trying to set the tree down without breaking anything, “I heard about your flight, Ricky. Snow sucks. We should speed up global warming.”
Ricky laughs, covering his mouth with his feelings and feeling even warmer than before; Matthew is now picking up a container of fried rice and reaching for Yujin’s discarded chopsticks, eyes glittering. The tree, behind him, is in danger of falling over.
“You brought a tree?” Ricky asks, curling his knees against his chest and watching Matthew dig into the food, Yujin peering into the backpack that’s slipped off their hyung’s shoulders; he’s dressed like someone about to climb Mount Everest. “All the way from your uncle’s house?”
“I dragged it on the bus, too,” Matthew says proudly, swallowing hard. He’s eating like he’s never seen food before in his life. “It took so long! I actually left last night but the roads were so bad we had to stop a few times and then this grandma I was sitting next to– she was super nice, she shared her snacks with me– she had us drop her off at her son’s house because we were just driving by? It was crazy but he gave us tea and gas!”
Ricky blinks quickly, but Yujin interrupts by holding up a string of twinkly lights and a few shiny silver ornaments with a squeal. “You brought decorations!”
Matthew grins at them and even though he must be exhausted, and in pain from sitting on a bus for hours and hours, he looks very happy. “I thought we could use a little Christmas cheer! It’s too boring in here.”
“I’ll start!” Yujin exclaims, hopping off the couch and dragging the tree into the middle of the living room, right next to the TV. Ricky stays where he is, though, watching Matthew eat on the floor and feeling that lump in his throat again.
“Matthew,” he asks quietly, in English, “why did you come back?”
Matthew’s eyes flick up to his, the other boy still chewing. He swallows quickly and reaches out for Ricky’s soda, something affectionate in the crinkles by the corners of his eyes and the tilt of his mouth when he drinks from the same place Ricky’s lips have pressed against. “I wanted to spend Christmas with you, Ricky. I know how it feels to be away from home during the holidays.”
Ricky raises an eyebrow, suddenly playful despite the burst of affection warming his blood. “Thanks, bro.”
Matthew cackles and then reaches out a hand for Ricky to clap, making his voice deeper. “You’re welcome, bro.”
♡♡♡
Yujin decorates the tree with wild abandon, tossing twinkly lights and ornaments and tinsel around like a whirlwind, so then Ricky and Matthew have to help him start over and teach him that, yes, the back of the tree also needs ornaments. They watch the Charlie Brown Christmas movie while they work and Matthew threatens to make them pancakes– he’s pelted with pillows and tinsel for his suggestion– and then reheat more of the food from Yujin’s mom instead.
It’s dark outside the windows now but ghostly white snow still falls; Matthew estimates at least four feet cover Seoul but neither Ricky nor Yujin understand what he’s talking about. After the tree is all decorated and they flick on the rainbow twinkly light, they race around the rest of the dorm turning off all the other lights and gathering every blanket and pillow they can find.
“We’re going to be so lazy,” Matthew announces happily once they’re back in the living room, directing Ricky and Yujin as they build a kind of fort on the couch. He’s also made them change into fresh pajamas and grab face masks from the largest bathroom. “We’re going to wallow.”
“I don’t know that word,” Ricky complains, tossing a Hanini plushie at Matthew, “can you just help us? We need more pillows on the sides.”
Matthew sticks his tongue out at him and Yujin flops down like a fish, cuddling his army of Yunini’s, and by the time the couch is finished they’re all ready for more food. As they huddle in the kitchen in front of the microwave, Ricky and Yujin peering over Matthew’s shoulders because he’s slightly less likely than them to blow up the whole building, someone knocks on the door.
“Hello?” A familiar voice calls, and Yujin gives a little shudder of delight and races for the door. “Ricky-hyung?”
“Yah, Ricky, open up!” A second voice calls, much louder and more insistent. “It’s cold and I have to pee!”
“Hyungs!” Yujin throws the door open, practically dancing on his tiptoes as he gazes up at Hanbin and Gyuvin. “You’re here! You came back!”
“Of course,” Hanbin says, looking a bit stunned even as he embraces Yujin, his gaze skating to Ricky and Matthew in the kitchen. “But what are you doing here?”
“I had to bring Ricky-hyung food,” Yujin says like it’s obvious, dragging Hanbin and Gyuvin inside and shutting the door tight, “he was starving!”
“I got us a tree,” Matthew says, waving at Gyuvin and then taking their steaming food from the microwave, “duh. Want dinner?”
“Have to pee!” Gyuvin shouts, running past but still managing to ruffle Ricky’s hair, getting it all out of sorts. “Save me some!”
“Oh, I brought food too,” Hanbin tells them, shrugging off his coat and entering the kitchen, hugging each of them in turn and then beginning to unpack his bag. He looks a million times better already, only faint shadows under his eyes, and he’s wearing a new sweater that compliments his light brown hair. “Can I microwave the soup? My Eomma said it should be eaten today.”
“Soup!” Yujin agrees, moving back and forth between all three of them, clearly ecstatic to have so many hyungs to cling onto. “Did Eomma pack dessert for us, too?”
“Yeah,” Hanbin laughs, starting the microwave and turning to look at them all, leaning against the counter and smiling widely, “she did.”
“Ah,” Matthew agrees, rubbing his belly contentedly, “I can’t wait! Your mom is such a good cook.”
Gyuvin comes back into the kitchen, drying his hands on his shirt and sniffing the air. “Are we eating now? Great! I missed dinner!”
Ricky doesn’t say anything until they’re all seated on the couch, balancing bowls of soup and containers of hot food in their laps, trading whenever they want to taste a new flavor. The lights of the tree twinkle warmly and the snow has changed to a gentle drift outside, ghostly and lovely; everything feels very cozy and warm, just like a holiday movie.
Watching Hanbin sip his soup, the tips of his ears still red from being outside, Ricky gently pats his leader’s knee. “Hyung, why’d you come back to the dorm? You were so excited to go home and rest.”
Hanbin hums, setting down his soup and nudging a container of kimbap closer to Ricky. “I did get to go home and rest. I saw my family and my sister and I ate so much–” he widens his eyes dramatically and Ricky laughs, just a little– “but it was time to come home.”
Ricky wrinkles his nose because he still doesn’t understand. “But–”
Hanbin picks up a piece of kimpbap with his chopsticks and holds it out to Ricky, smiling gently. “Eat up, Ricky-yah. Hyung made it special for you.”
Ricky accepts the food, his hands warmed by the soup he holds and his side pressed to Matthew’s ribs and one of Yujin’s plushies beside his knee. His throat is tight again but he manages to swallow; the kimbap is perfect, just how he likes it with cream cheese and kimchi, and when he takes a sip of his soup the heat of it travels all the way down his throat to pool in his belly.
♡♡♡
After dinner they pile their dishes in the sink and sprawl out on the couch, limbs overlapping and heads cushioned on one another’s bellies, cooling face masks covering their cheeks and noses as they choose yet another holiday movie. Gyuvin’s battled his way to Ricky’s side through trickery and tickling and now they lay on their sides, heads almost touching, the thickest and fluffiest blanket of all (Hao’s) covering them.
Ricky’s not really paying attention to the movie, sleepy with his very full belly and the warmth of his members all around them, the lights on the tree blurring in his vision, but Gyuvin’s making little noises of surprise at each twist and turn in the romance of the main couple and his knuckles are white where he clutches the blanket’s edge. Clearly, he’s very invested in the happily ever after of the prince and the baker.
Yujin’s definitely sleeping, letting out tiny snores, and Ricky can’t see Hanbin and Matthew’s faces from where they lay near his feet so he has no idea if they’re awake or just talking quietly with each other, but he reaches out for Gyuvin when the prince finds out he’s adopted and slides their hands together.
“It’s okay,” he whispers when Gyuvin makes a little sound, “it has a happy ending. I checked online.”
Gyuvin lets out a deep sigh, his fingers squeezing tight around Ricky’s. They keep watching the movie, hands clasped atop the fluffy blanket, but now Ricky really isn’t paying attention. He can’t stop thinking about all the holidays and birthdays and special occasions he and Gyuvin celebrated in the dorms with Yujin and Hao and their other trainee friends, how they could make a party out of one piece of cake and a few party hats.
It felt like this, back then, the closeness of too many boys squished together and fighting for space, shared utensils and desserts passed around bite for bite until only crumbs were left.
And yet– they’ve had an insanely busy year full of schedules and concerts and flights and long, long filming days. Ricky knows how badly Gyuvin wanted to go home, how much he missed his family during their tour; his friend would come to breakfast at their hotels sometimes with pink-rimmed eyes and a barrage of texts on his phone, encouragement and love from his family.
Gyuvin’s been wanting to go home forever, has been chafing at the white walls of their dorm and missing his family with each week bringing them closer to Christmas. There’s a snowstorm outside, a blizzard blanketing Seoul and what seems to be all of Korea in white, and yet his friend is here with them, in their cramped dorm, holding Ricky’s hand and keeping him company instead of staying in his comfortable home with his family.
“Gyuvin,” Ricky whispers as the couple finally reunite on a plan, the prince sinking to one knee to propose to the baker right there in the aisle. The Christmas tree lights blur in his vision, red and blue and warm white. “Thanks for coming back to keep me company.”
Gyuvin squeezes his fingers again, strong and sure. “I couldn’t let you miss me too much.”
Ricky smiles at the TV, glad they don’t have to make eye contact for this confession. “Then you came back just in time. I didn’t know how to stay busy without you.”
Gyuvin makes a pleased noise, the couple now kissing on screen after the baker has accepted the prince’s proposal; everyone else on the plane is clapping. “I didn’t know how to celebrate Christmas without you. It didn’t feel right.”
No, Ricky thinks as the screen fades to a montage of the couple’s wedding in a tiny and unnamed European country, it wouldn’t feel like Christmas at all without Gyuvin here by his side.
♡♡♡
After a second movie, which they all sleep through because of the very nice soundtrack, they wake up around 9pm for dessert and cocoa. Hanbin takes charge in the kitchen, as their leader and the most responsible hyung currently in the dorm, and they settle around the table as they wait.
“I think we should play a game,” Yujin suggests, half in Matthew’s lap, a fluffy headband holding his hair back even though he’s discarded his facemask. “Hide and seek! Or–”
“Not Monopoly,” Gyuvin groans, lifting his head from his folded arms. “You always cheat.”
Yujin puffs up indignantly. “I don’t cheat! I’m just smarter at buying property than all of you!”
“You have scary good luck,” Matthew agrees, accepting empty mugs from Hanbin and setting them on the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to jail.”
“That’s because he’s cheating,” Gyuvin says knowingly, only just managing to dodge the punch Yujin throws at him. “Hyung! Yujinnie tried to hit me!”
Hanbin, taking the cocoa off the stove, hums louder and pretends he can’t hear them. When their drinks are ready, though, and he’s taking the enormous box of cookies and confectionaries his mom packed from the fridge, the apartment door opens and Gunwook steps inside. He takes his coat and shoes off and sets down his travel bag without seeing any of them, only freezing once he turns around and finds five surprised faces staring back at him.
“Oh!” Gunwook says, beaming and walking towards them, dressed in thick winter clothes and carrying an iced cake, “hi hyungs! Is that cocoa?”
“Gunwookie,” Matthew says affectionately, opening his arms for the younger boy after Yujin slides off his lap to make space, Hanbin rising to get another mug. Gunwook folds into his embrace easily, pressing their cheeks together and smiling around at everyone as if this is perfectly normal and natural, as if they were always going to skip out on their own vacations to return to Ricky.
“Gunwook-ah,” Ricky says, blinking very quickly because he feels dangerously close to tears, “did Matthew text you?”
Gunwook accepts a mug of cocoa from Hanbin with a little air kiss and then takes a sip, sighing happily. “Nope,” he answers, “but you said your last flight was cancelled.”
Ricky frowns at him, while Gyuvin and Yujin fight over an eclair. “And you decided to come back here?”
Gunwook smiles at him, so sweet and sincere that Ricky can’t help but reach out for his large hand and twine their fingers together. “You shouldn’t be alone on Christmas, Ricky-hyung. It’s a family holiday.”
Ricky struggles for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat when Gyuvin slides a cookie in front of him and then dives back into the box for more. Beneath the table, Hanbin’s ankle is hooked around his own and Matthew’s gazing at him with sweet affection too, something like stars in his eyes. “But you should be with your family. All of you– you were supposed to go home. I’m fine here. I don’t need you to stay with me.”
Matthew and Hanbin exchange a look and Gyuvin snorts, while Gunwook begins to look slightly worried, but it’s Yujin who speaks for all of them, looking up from his cocoa with a mustache of whipped cream. “Don’t be silly, hyung. We are with our family. We’re celebrating in our home with you.”
♡♡♡
They decide to sleep on the couch rather than separating to their bedrooms, none of them wanting to untangle their hands or leave the warm lights of the Christmas tree. Gunwook’s cake is chocolate and filled with hazelnut spread; they decide to save it for the morning and pile back onto the couch, yawning and putting on fuzzy socks and arguing about which movie to watch next in their marathon.
Sandwiched between Yujin and Gyuvin, Ricky cuddles a Rinini cushion to his chest and closes his eyes, simply enjoying his members’ familiar voices around him and the warmth of being with his family. He still misses his mom and he wishes he could be with her but his Christmas Eve is suddenly much happier and brighter now that he isn’t alone, now that the cheer and joy of the holidays is warming his chest.
They settle on another Netflix romance about a knight who travels through time just in time for the holidays, though Matthew wants to watch Ice Age and keeps trying to convince them all that it is actually a Christmas movie.
Ricky’s listening to Matthew talk about a hairy elephant (?) and how there’s a couple of animals called Sid and Diego who are very in love and then he’s asleep, drifting in cozy dreams of presents and silver ornaments and his members’ voices. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for but when he wakes it’s to find someone crouching on the floor in front of him, a new face that’s still very dear smiling up at him while slim fingers pet softly through his hair.
“Ricky-yah,” Jiwoong murmurs, dressed in a fancy shirt, his skin glowing in the lights of the Christmas tree; a sequel to the bad movie is playing on the TV but Ricky doesn’t think anyone else is awake. Gyuvin’s head is resting on his shoulder, the other boy fast asleep. “Merry Christmas.”
“Hyung,” Ricky breathes, rubbing his eyes hard and wondering if he’s dreaming. “You’re here? How?”
Jiwoong laughs softly, tucking a few strands of hair behind Ricky’s ear. “I borrowed my friend’s car.”
Ricky’s eyes widen. “But the storm! It’s not safe, hyungie.”
Jiwoong shrugs casually, still smiling. “I’m a good driver, and the roads are better now. I didn’t mind– I had some new albums to listen to.” Ricky knows he means that he had albums of other fifth gen idols to listen to, the ones that Ricky and the other younger members are always talking about; Jiwoong wants to know which music they like and so he aks them often for recommendations, so he can keep up on the trends and what’s popular.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Ricky admits quietly, sleep-hazed enough that he can be very honest. He leans into Jiwoong’s fingers in his hair, his heart warm with the knowledge that so many of his members braved snow and ice to return to the dorm so he wouldn’t have to be alone. “I wanted to celebrate Christmas with you.”
Jiwoong’s smile widens and his thumb caresses Ricky’s temple, smoothing over the delicate skin just beneath his eye. “I couldn’t let you be here all by yourself, baby. I’m just surprised to see everyone else.”
Ricky blushes a little, burrowing deeper into the warmth of Yujin and Gyuvin on either side of him, feeling the closeness of their members all around him like a cashmere blanket. “They had the same idea as you,” he admits in a tiny whisper, “it’s… I’m really glad.”
Jiwoong hums, still touching his face. “Should I change into pajamas and join you?”
Ricky nods happily, wanting nothing more than to cuddle up to their hyung and fall asleep to the sound of Jiwoong’s heartbeat, to wake on Christmas morning with the cinnamon scent of Jiwoong’s perfume in his nose. “Yes please. There’s lots of room.”
Jiwoong’s thumb drifts down Ricky’s cheek, pressing into his dimple for a moment before he stands and runs a hand through his own hair, looking delicious in his jeans and fancy shirt. “Okay. I’ll be back soon, baby. Save a spot for me.”
Ricky gazes after Jiwoong as he disappears down the hallway, feeling his heart beat in his ears and at his wrists, so entirely warm that he feels as if he’s just drunk three mugs of cocoa. He can’t believe that his members are all home with him, leaving their families and friends and vacation plans behind to keep him company, but he’s so grateful and so full of love that all he can do is nestle closer to Yujin and Gyuvin and smile at the twinkling Christmas tree.
He’s still smiling when he drifts back to sleep, and when Jiwoong climbs into the pile of boys and takes Ricky into his arms, he curls into his hyung’s chest even as he dreams.
♡♡♡
They all wake before the sun has risen, though not from natural causes; Hao is bursting through the door singing a Christmas carol and carrying what seem to be ten overflowing bags on each arm and, strangest of all, he’s dressed in bright red pajamas patterned with little angels.
Next to Ricky, Yujin rubs his eyes blearily and peers at Hao through the dim gray light streaming through the windows. “Santa?”
“Close!” Hao agrees brightly, letting his dozens of bags fall to the floor and kicking off his shoes, approaching the couch and the boys still waking up, all of them confused and stiff from sleeping like a pile of puppies. “I have presents, but I’m much prettier!”
Without opening his eyes, Gunwook turns his face towards them. “Hao-hyung?”
“Yes!” Hao agrees, beaming, a healthy sunkissed glow to his skin; he’s wearing a pair of coconut shaped sunglasses on his head and his nails, as he slides them into Ricky’s hair, are painted a shiny pink. “Hi Wookie bear! You look so cute!”
“You’re so loud,” Gyuvin complains, reaching out and trying to tug Hao down onto the coach with all of them, “come sleep.”
“I have been awake for twenty nine hours straight,” Hao says reasonably, “I don’t need to sleep. I need sugar!”
“There’s cake,” Hanbin offers, blowing Hao a kiss and smiling very, very widely. “On the table. Hi, love. You look tan.”
“I am,” Hao sighs happily, blowing Hanbin his own kiss, “I put on my tiniest swimsuit and I stayed outside all day and even my thighs got–”
Ricky claps his hands over Yujin’s ears, sticking his tongue out at Hao. “Little ears.”
Behind him, Jiwoong is laughing silently, and Gunwook is just starting to open his eyes. Hao beams around at all of them, showing off all of his teeth, and then twitches like he’s been electrocuted. “I have a surprise!”
At that Yujin perks up. “A present? Can we–”
Taerae steps through the open door of their dorm, dressed much more reasonably but with a silver star meant to top a tree clipped into his hair, smiling, silver glitter in his dimples and on the collar of his shirt. “Surprise!”
General chaos rules for a few minutes while everyone finishes waking up and Taerae gives them all hugs while explaining that he and Hao ran into each other outside the building; Hao, meanwhile, is slicing up the cake Gunwook brought for breakfast and humming another Christmas song under his breath. He tells them to open the bags he’d dropped and inside they find eight pairs of matching pajamas; little palm trees and surfing Santa’s printed on bright red cotton.
“You are Santa Clause,” Yujin says happily, pulling on his pajamas right there in the kitchen while Hanbin and Jiwoong try to scrounge together a real breakfast from all the leftovers, and Hao adds whipped cream to the slices of cake. “Thanks hyung!”
“I had to bring my babies something,” Hao says magnanimously, though he breaks into laughter when Gyuvin and Gunwook shrug on their pajamas too. “Merry Christmas!”
“The sun hasn’t even risen yet,” Matthew says, dragging a blanket behind him like a cape as he returns from changing too. “I’m not sure it is Christmas.”
“But Hao-hyung and Taerae-hyung are finally here,” Yujin interjects, clinging onto Hao’s arm. “So we can celebrate now!”
Ricky ducks under Hao’s other arm, feeling the final pieces of his heart click into place. Taerae who hopped between trains all night, finding his way back to Seoul in a zig-zag pattern despite the blizzard and the ice on the tracks and the conductors’ threatening to go on strike, and Hao who left the sun and warmth of Singapore behind and flew home to them all. His members, his hyungs, his friends– they’re all here, all here with him on Christmas.
It feels just like a miracle but Ricky couldn’t be happier to celebrate with his family.