Chapter Text
December 1st came in quietly.
No blizzards, no dramatic movie-scene storm—just a thin veil of cloud over Seoul and a kind of hush in the air that made everything feel softer, like the world was holding its breath.
Soobin woke up to the sound of wind tapping lightly at the window and the sight of Yeonjun curled up against his side, hair a fluffy mess, mouth slightly open. One of Yeonjun’s arms was thrown across Soobin’s waist, fingers loosely clutching his sweatshirt like he’d fallen asleep mid-hug and refused to let go.
For a moment, Soobin just lay there and watched him.
Yeonjun’s lashes were long against his cheeks. A tiny crease formed between his brows every time the wind whistled. Whenever Soobin shifted even a little, Yeonjun instinctively scooted closer, nose pressing against his chest with a soft, sleepy grumble.
December 1st, Soobin thought. First day of his favorite month. First day of Yeonjun being this unreasonably adorable in winter.
He touched Yeonjun’s hair, smoothing the wild tufts away from his forehead.
“Jjun,” Soobin whispered, voice still rough from sleep. “Wake up.”
Yeonjun made a noise that sounded like a dying seal and burrowed closer. “No,” he mumbled, “I’m hibernating. It’s December. Bears do that.”
“You’re not a bear. You’re a… cold chihuahua,” Soobin teased, lips curving.
Yeonjun cracked one eye open. “…Wow. On the first day of December you choose violence?”
Soobin laughed, the sound low and fond, and tipped his chin toward the window. “Look.”
Outside, the sky was a flat grey, and fine, almost invisible flakes of snow drifted past the glass. Not heavy enough to cover the ground, not yet, but definite. Real.
Yeonjun blinked properly and pushed himself up on an elbow to see, the blanket slipping down his arms.
“Wait,” he breathed. “Is that… snow?”
“Mm.” Soobin watched his reaction more than the view. “First snow of December.”
Yeonjun’s sleepy grumpiness evaporated, replaced with something bright. “Hyung, you should’ve shaken me awake sooner! This is, like, beginning-of-a-drama special scene material.”
“You were drooling on my shirt,” Soobin pointed out.
Yeonjun slapped a hand over his mouth, offended. “No, I was not.”
“You absolutely were. My heart was touched by the affection.”
Yeonjun, red now, grabbed the corner of the blanket and slammed it dramatically over Soobin’s face. “Shut u—”
The blanket slipped off as Soobin simply sat up, taller and stronger, dragging Yeonjun with him. They ended up nose-to-nose for a second, Yeonjun’s hand fisted in the fabric of Soobin’s sweatshirt, both of them suddenly very aware of how close they were.
“Good morning,” Soobin said softly.
“Good… morning,” Yeonjun replied, voice dropping without meaning to.
There was a quiet beat where only the faint whistle of the wind filled the room.
Then Soobin cleared his throat. “Do you know what day it is?”
Yeonjun squinted. “Monday?”
“Okay, yes, but also December 1st. Which means…” Soobin reached over to the nightstand, rummaging in the drawer. “Ta-da.”
He pulled out a small, rectangular box wrapped in light blue paper with tiny stars printed on it. A crooked little bow sat on top.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”
“Technically…” Soobin presented it with both hands. “It’s your ‘Welcome to December, please don’t get seasonal burnout’ gift.”
Yeonjun dissolved into a laugh. “Hyung, what kind of name is that?”
“A very accurate one?” Soobin nudged the box toward him. “Open it.”
Yeonjun sat cross-legged on the bed, the blanket pooled around his waist, and carefully peeled the wrapping like he was unwrapping something sacred. Inside was a small wooden box with a lid that slid open. When he did, he found little compartments—thirty-one of them, each with a tiny handwritten number.
An advent calendar.
Except instead of chocolates, each compartment had a folded piece of paper and a tiny sticker or trinket: a star, a tiny candy cane charm, a paper snowflake. Yeonjun stared, speechless.
“For every day in December,” Soobin said quietly, suddenly shy. “One little note. Something I like about you. Or a small task. Or… you know. A cheesy compliment. I thought… you get overwhelmed a lot this time of year. So, maybe this can be a little thing that’s just for you.”
Yeonjun swallowed. His eyes went shiny so quickly it startled even him.
“You made this?” he whispered.
Soobin shrugged, ears reddening. “I mean, yeah. Unless Santa started working part-time in our dorm.”
Yeonjun laughed wetly and blinked up at him. “You really sat there and wrote thirty-one notes?”
“I worried it wouldn’t be enough,” Soobin admitted, cheeks turning pink. “But I was running out of tiny stickers.”
“That’s not the point, you giant tree,” Yeonjun said, voice wobbling as he covered his mouth with his hand. “You… you thought about me for thirty-one days in advance.”
“I think about you for three hundred sixty-five days,” Soobin said, then immediately looked like he regretted how easily that had slipped out.
Yeonjun’s heart did something that felt suspiciously like cartwheels.
He sniffed and quickly swiped under his eyes. “Can I open today’s?”
“Of course.”
Yeonjun found the one labeled “1” and pulled out the little folded note. A tiny snowman sticker was stuck to the paper. He peeled it off carefully and stuck it on the back of his hand, then unfolded the note.
In Soobin’s neat handwriting, it read:
December 1st – You make every room warmer just by walking into it.
(Please also wear a scarf today. This is partially romantic and partially a health request.)
Yeonjun choked out a laugh, another tear escaping. “You’re… so annoying,” he said fondly, throwing himself forward.
He tackled Soobin into a hug, arms winding around his shoulders and squeezing tight. Soobin wheezed at the impact, then wrapped his arms around Yeonjun’s waist, chin hooking over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Yeonjun murmured into his neck. “I love it. I love you.”
The words landed between them soft but solid, like a snowflake that didn’t melt.
Soobin froze for half a second, then relaxed all at once, his arms tightening. “Yeah?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Yeonjun whispered. He pulled back just enough to see Soobin’s face, searching his eyes. “Do you… maybe… feel something like that too?”
Soobin’s gaze softened, melting in a way Yeonjun had only seen on stage when he looked at fans, never realizing he got that same expression in private.
“I think I’ve been feeling ‘something like that’ since the first time you shared your hot pack with me,” Soobin said, smiling that small, honest smile that made Yeonjun’s heart ache. “So… yes. I love you, too.”
Yeonjun’s breath caught. For a second, everything—wind, snow, time—seemed to pause.
“Can I…?” Yeonjun started, then didn’t finish the sentence. He just leaned in.
Their first kiss on December 1st was exactly nothing like a music video.
Their noses bumped. Yeonjun’s cold fingers pressed clumsily into Soobin’s jaw. Soobin nearly laughed mid-kiss because Yeonjun’s lips tasted faintly like the toothpaste he’d used at 3 a.m.
But it was warm and shy and real, Yeonjun smiling against his mouth, Soobin’s hands splayed across his back, holding him like something precious.
When they pulled apart, Yeonjun rested his forehead against Soobin’s. “Okay,” he said, a little breathless. “New rule. December is now officially our month.”
“I thought it was already,” Soobin teased. “You go crazy for Christmas lights.”
“Yeah, but now it’s, like…” Yeonjun hummed, fingers playing with the neckline of Soobin’s sweatshirt. “Our soft month. Our ‘no matter how busy we get, we do at least one small cozy thing a day’ month.”
Soobin’s eyes curved. “Like an advent calendar for our relationship?”
“Exactly!” Yeonjun jabbed a finger into his chest. “One little act of love every day.”
“Okay,” Soobin said, totally serious. “Deal.”
⸻
By late morning, their dorm was full of small December noises: the kettle whistling, the rustle of snack bags, the hum of the heater, the squeak of the couch as Yeonjun threw himself onto it with a dramatic sigh.
“We should decorate,” he declared, mouth full of toast.
“We don’t even have a tree yet,” Soobin pointed out, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate to the coffee table.
“Who said anything about needing a tree? We have vibes.” Yeonjun opened his arms as if presenting an invisible banner. “December 1st is for establishing theme.”
“What’s our theme?” Soobin asked, handing him a mug.
Yeonjun took it with both hands, letting the warmth soak into his fingers. “Um…” He looked around the room: the slightly crooked poster on the wall, the stack of gaming controllers, the heap of blankets on the couch where they’d decided to build a “temporary nest” (that never left). “Soft winter. No stress. Maximum cuddles. Hot drinks. Fairy lights. At least one cheesy holiday movie a week.”
“Oh, so you just want to turn our dorm into your brain,” Soobin deadpanned.
“Exactly,” Yeonjun said proudly.
They spent the afternoon unpacking a small box of decorations from the closet—things they’d collected over the years. A slightly chipped snow globe Huening Kai had gifted them. A string of star-shaped fairy lights Beomgyu claimed he’d “manifested” during a sale. A tiny knit stocking Taehyun’s aunt had made for each of them.
Soobin stood on a chair to pin the fairy lights around the window, their light soft and golden once plugged in. Yeonjun hovered below him, hands on Soobin’s legs as if he was spotting him, worrying.
“Be careful,” Yeonjun said for the fiftieth time. “If you fall and break something, I’m suing the company.”
“For what? Emotional damage to you?” Soobin asked, amused.
“Yes.”
“I’ll fall into your arms, it’ll be fine.”
Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “Don’t test me. I’ll catch you but I’ll complain about it forever.”
“You already complain forever,” Soobin said, hopping down lightly from the chair.
Yeonjun attempted to elbow him and immediately got pulled into a hug instead, Soobin’s arm looping casually around his shoulders. He didn’t resist, just leaned in, their hips bumping as they walked around the room adjusting things.
They played a playlist of soft winter songs, humming along, occasionally breaking into silly dances. At one point, Yeonjun tried to waltz with a rolled-up blanket; at another, Soobin tried to imitate him and ended up spinning the blanket right into his own face.
By the time the sun began to dip, the tiny dorm looked different. Not magically transformed, not magazine cover-worthy—just… theirs. The star lights blinked gently by the window. The snow globe sat in the center of the coffee table. A small, slightly lopsided paper snowflake chain hung above the TV.
Yeonjun flopped onto the couch again, satisfied. “It’s perfect.”
Soobin dropped down beside him, their shoulders touching. “It’s a little messy.”
“You’re a little messy,” Yeonjun shot back automatically.
“That’s true,” Soobin agreed, tilting his head back to rest on the couch. “But it feels warm.”
Yeonjun turned his head to look at him. The fairy lights reflected in Soobin’s eyes, making them shine.
“Hey,” Yeonjun said softly.
“Mm?”
“Today’s ‘act of love’ is you letting me choose the movie.”
Soobin groaned. “You always pick the ones that make me cry.”
“That’s the point. I like seeing you soft and sniffly.”
“You’re so mean.”
“You love me,” Yeonjun reminded him, grinning.
“I do,” Soobin sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately for me.”
They ended up under the same blanket, legs tangled, the movie playing quietly in the background. At some point, Yeonjun’s head found Soobin’s shoulder. At some point after that, his fingers slipped between Soobin’s, twining together.
Soobin’s thumb brushed absent little circles into Yeonjun’s knuckles. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it; it just happened, natural and easy, like breathing.
Outside, the snow continued to fall in slow, soft patterns.
Inside, on their couch, Soobin felt Yeonjun’s breathing even out, his weight growing heavier against him. He glanced down to find Yeonjun half-asleep, eyes drowsy, lips parted in a small, contented smile.
“You tired?” Soobin murmured.
“A little,” Yeonjun admitted. “But… I don’t want today to end.”
“It won’t,” Soobin said, resting his cheek on top of Yeonjun’s head. “We still have thirty more days of December. And all the months after that.”
Yeonjun let out a small, satisfied hum. “I like this. Starting the month with you.”
“You always start the month with me,” Soobin pointed out gently. “We live together.”
“Yeah, but…” Yeonjun’s fingers tightened around his. “Today feels different. More… ours.”
Soobin’s heart squeezed again in that now-familiar way. He pressed a light kiss to the top of Yeonjun’s head.
“Then let’s make a promise,” he said quietly. “Every December 1st, no matter how busy we are or where we are, we’ll do something like this. Just us. Something small, something warm.”
Yeonjun tilted his head back to look at him, eyes soft. “Our own little tradition?”
“Yeah. Our own little start-of-December ritual.”
“Okay,” Yeonjun said, a smile curving slowly across his face. “Deal.”
He lifted their joined hands and pressed a quick kiss to the back of Soobin’s. “Happy December 1st, Bin.”
Soobin smiled, the kind of smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “Happy December 1st, Jjun.”
Outside, the world was quiet and cold.
Inside, on a small couch under fairy lights and a slightly crooked paper snowflake chain, Soobin and Yeonjun began their December with warmth, whispered promises, and the soft, steady certainty of loving and being loved back.