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Jinwoo fished around his pockets, tongue poking out the corner of his lips. As one arm dug around the inside of his coat, the other cradled a bag of groceries, precariously balanced against his hip. His hair was tossed to one side, sporting small flecks of white from the windstorm-turned-snowstorm outside. The ice melted quickly, dampening his hair, as the apartment complex was oh so wonderfully heated when he'd gotten inside. He was already regaining the feeling in his cheeks as he made his way up the stairs.
His fingers finally grabbed at his keys—metal cold as ice—when he heard it.
Christmas carols.
He wasn't able to distinguish the particular carol, not until he'd caught his breath anyways—leaning against the doorway, keys now in hand. The sting of cold no longer surrounded him, its burn in his lungs now dissipated, so he took advantage, inhaling deeply while sending thanks to whoever invented indoor heating. The tune continued to swirl around Jinwoo; the empty hallway amplifying the noise to an encompassing melody. The carol was somewhat of a classic—something played in cars, supermarkets, and elevators everywhere once the calendar hit December. He found himself humming along unconsciously, a great feat given that he'd just gotten the sweet gift of oxygen back.
Nobody could blame him for joining in the song. Besides the fact that no one else was around—there were only two rooms on this floor, one playing the music and the other being his own—Jinwoo had come to find that this album was probably going to be a favorite of his for a while, Christmastime or otherwise. He'd taken a few music theory classes, heard many genres and tracks as a dance major, even composed a few songs of his own on the side. Nothing had struck him quite like this voice though.
A ringing tenor, sweet and high and melodious in its stream of song. Capable of belting powerful high notes and soft, murmured tones—which may have forced Jinwoo to press his ear against the door some nights. The singer must've spent a lot of time perfecting his craft, or maybe it was just a lot of studio effects; Jinwoo liked to think it was just natural talent that got his heart stuttering to tempo of the song.
He remembered the first night his neighbor put the music on. It was late, very late. And after a solid two hours of satisfying—if not pain-inducing—dance practice, Jinwoo was sweaty, tired, and more than ready to collapse into a heap on his bed. It just so happened that as he stood in front of his door—once again in search of the disappearing keys—a set of bells started ringing in the apartment over.
That was enough to make him pause a moment, at least before he realized winter was just around the corner. He continued rooting around his pockets but was stopped again when the lyrics kicked in. Some variation of White Christmas, in a different key with a very different voice. Unlike the original song, or any cover he'd heard, this cover was high. The key must've been at least an octave and a half up the scale, but the sound was still rich, like honey—sweet and slow, telling the story of a melancholy dream. It didn't seem like something that would work, meld together very well, but it did. Jinwoo didn't notice he was holding the key until the last note died out.
That wasn't the only song though. A medley of different carols played over the next week. And at the end of the week, it started up again. Jinwoo didn't mind the songs. He was a bit of a sap for the holidays in truth, and coming home to his own personal radio did nothing but light up his nights. It just got a little out of hand, on his part. Humming carols in the morning, an apple shoved half in his mouth before class. Humming carols during lectures—under his breath, trying to avoid the professor's gaze. Humming carols in the shower before bed, only after his neighbor had finished of course.
Bin had to smack him in class last week for humming in the middle of their final.
~~~
"You know, if you can't get a song out of your head, you should just go listen to it." Bin slung his backpack over one shoulder, eyeing his hyung with a hint of annoyance. "Just one time through, the whole song. That's supposed to work."
When he got no response, he leaned over Jinwoo's shoulder, trying to see what had his attention so entrapped. "Hyung!" Bin shouted, frustrated, beside Jinwoo's ear. In front of him was a sheet of paper, scribbled Christmas lyrics dusting the margins of his notes. Luckily, the lyrics didn't run too far into the important parts. Bin didn't take notes in this class, so Jinwoo's distractions were costing both their grades.
Jinwoo groaned, resting his head—none too gently— on the wooden desk. "I'm sorry," He whined.
"Did you hear what I-"
"I heard." Jinwoo gave a harsh sigh, rubbing at his temples before tipping his head back to look at Bin, be it upside down. "I just...don't know the song?" Bin looked confused; so was Jinwoo. He didn't really know what he was trying to say.
Bin glanced back at the paper, "Silent Night...?" His voice drifted. These were Christmas carol, and pretty old ones at that. What did Jinwoo mean he didn't-.
"No!" The whine was back, and more grating than before.
"It's a specific version!" Jinwoo stressed. "It's more the singer than the song. And I've tried to find the song, but none of the covers I've found are right! Do you know how many Christmas songs there are?!" Jinwoo's voice got progressively higher as he got more desperate; Bin was getting concerned. Jinwoo dropped his face back on the desk, covering his head with his arms.
Bin paused a moment, continuing cautiously, "You said the song came from your neighbor...right?" There was some movement under Jinwoo's arms that might be a nod, so he kept going. "Ask them?"
Jinwoo sat up then, turning around to face Bin. "I can't."
No further explanation.
"Why not?" Just as blunt.
"I don't know them." Bin raised an eyebrow at that. Jinwoo was a great conversationalist. He made friends as easily as he breathed. There was something friendly and genuine and nice about Jinwoo that...drew people towards him. That didn't sound like him.
"That doesn't sound like you."
"It's just," Jinwoo slumped back in his chair, face taking on a disgruntled expression. "It's been a busy semester, you know?" Bin nodded along. Lots of important classes this year and credits necessary to graduate; he definitely understood. Jinwoo continued, "The guy moved in at the beginning of the semester. I saw him once or twice, enough to know he's a he, but not much else? I meant to go talk to him, but things started to pile up and..." Jinwoo trailed off, eyes tracing the wood pattern on the desk. Carols or not, Jinwoo was really regretting not introducing himself sooner. Having someone so close without knowing them felt...strange.
"Well," Bin said quietly, cutting his thought off. "Better late than never, right?" Jinwoo peeked up at him. He had a small smile on his lips, comforting and quirked up in the corner—like only Bin could smile. He held out a hand to help Jinwoo up. They'd been talking so long, the next class was already filing in for their lecture. Jinwoo thought a second.
He grabbed the outstretched hand, pulling himself up and swinging his backpack on in one fluid movement. He bumped his shoulder into Bin. "Thanks," he mumbled. Bin scoffed, slinging an arm across Jinwoo's shoulder as he led them out. "Just send me a copy of the notes and we'll be even."
~~~
So maybe...maybe he should just do it now.
Yeah, no better time than the present, right?
It's almost Christmas anyways; there is no better time for presents.
It's with this reasoning that Jinwoo knocks, resolutely, on his neighbor's door.
The music cuts off, almost immediately. It's then that he thinks of the finer details. He's still wrapped up in at least four layers of clothes, beginning to get a little too warm with the heater going. He's carrying a bag of groceries, including things that need to go in the freezer, which doesn't matter so much as the fact that he's carrying a bag of groceries to meet his neighbor.
Really, the one time his brain decides to work fast and this is what happens?
He's about to turn and run towards his place when the door begins to open.
...
It's-
It's an elf.
Really.
The guy at the door looks like he's about to say something when he realizes that there's a strange man at his doorstep looking at him in his elf pajamas. A full body onesie at that. Jinwoo has about five seconds to take in the situation and act before things get irreparably awkward. In that time, his mind is very helpful and acknowledges how cute the other is, especially with the pink now rising in his cheeks—like he'd also been out in the snow recently. But with the whole pajama thing, Jinwoo's pretty sure he's been settled in for a while.
Okay, it's been five seconds. What now?
"Um, hi?" Jinwoo forces out. It awkward and cringe-inducing, but he puts on his most charming smile and takes small comfort in the fact that maybe he's not the only one feeling so embarrassed. He wonders for a moment if the boy in front of him has gone into shock, what with the sudden rush of blood to his head, when he speaks.
"Hi."
Short, simple. It's conversation nonetheless, and Jinwoo can work with that.
Jinwoo clears his throat. "I'm Jinwoo, Park Jinwoo. I, uh, live across the hall." He points behind him to his own housing, as if there were other apartments to get it confused with. He continues, wiping his palm on his jeans. "I've been meaning to drop by and introduce myself. I know you moved in recently, and I was hoping we could, um, be friends?" Jinwoo licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry, before pulling on another smile. He's not quite sure when it fell off.
The redhead—at least that's what it looks like, somewhere between brown and red, something like an ash red—remains silent. His hands aren't fisted in his pants like before though, so that seems like a good sign. Jinwoo continues on. "I had a question for you too, if-if you don't mind?" This time he waits for a response.
Jinwoo gets scared that this conversation will really be a one sided attack when the other nods. Okay. Getting better. That's some sort of response. A small shred of confidence lifts Jinwoo back up.
"What's that song you've been playing these past couple weeks?"
The other looks confused.
Jinwoo tries to clarify, "Like, I know you've played a few carols, but would you mind telling me the titles? Or where I could find them?"
"Like, the instrumental tracks?" The other speaks.
He speaks, voice light and melodic.
Jinwoo almost sags with relief; that is definitely progress. His neighbor doesn't seem nearly as embarrassed or threatened as before. His hands, which were once balled tightly into the cloth of his clothes, are now gently picking at a loose thread in the seam. His words come out genuinely curious, like the small tilt of his head and squint of his eyes. His skin is back to a peach shade, which Jinwoo totally doesn't feel disappointed in.
But the question's still not what he's looking for.
Okay, maybe really specific?
"No, definitely not instrumental. If anything, the singer was the best part about it! He had a high singing voice, really sweet with perfect pitch. Vibrato always on point with more than enough passion to sing any ballad. It was like talent in a bottle! Or a video, seeing as that's the case. You really can't fake talent like that though. He was just-" Jinwoo cut himself off.
Is he missing something?
Because the dude's face is all red again. Except instead of low key 'I got caught in pajamas' embarrassed, it's like 'going to school without pants on' embarrassed. From the full of his cheeks to the tip of his ears, he's glowing a vibrant scarlet. Still pretty cute in all honesty, but more concerning now.
"I, uh, I-I...erm, I-" He's stammering now, avoiding eye contact with Jinwoo to instead stare at his socked feet. Candy cane stripes though? This guy must be really excited for Christmas. Though, the pajamas and music were pretty strong indicators too.
Jinwoo tries to think of another topic, to veer away from this conversation that has obviously caused some type of discomfort in elf-boy. He's getting really distracted though, and he doesn't even have the music to blame anymore. First it's the music problem, then the fact that the boy across the hall is more than a little cute, and now it's the lilts in his voice—a gentle up and down in his unintelligible words that sounds just a bit like-
Like music.
A melodic voice.
Maybe-
Maybe because he's heard this voice sing a melody before.
"I think that, um, you might've heard my...my practicing." The elf-boy finally says, eyes peeking out from under his lashes. "I'm Kim Myungjun, and I...carol? With the local college, during Christmas. They recently switched carols on us, so I've had to spend some time at home rehearsing and...sorry, if I bothered you." He ends quickly, fidgeting slightly under Jinwoo's gaze. In all fairness, he probably wouldn't be as intimidated if Jinwoo could find a way to shut his hanging mouth.
"That..." His mouth snaps shut, if only to start speaking. "...was you?"
Jinwoo can't help but ask, "Are you serious? Sing something!"
Maybe Jinwoo's dumbfounded face and unintentional praise eased the air a little, because elf-boy's—Myungjun's—personality takes a drastic shift. The arms hanging by his sides, fidgeting with loose strands, come up to cross over his chest. His small, embarrassed hint of a smile becomes a sort of half-grin. It's like a different person, and Jinwoo can't tell what he did to cause that, but he'd really like to know. "What?" Myungjun asks, amusement in his voice. "You don't believe me?"
Jinwoo takes a step back, mentally and physically. One, from the shock of the turn around. Two, because he really was being rude, wasn't he? "Sing something." Really? You don't just say that to someone, especially someone you just assaulted with a bag of produce and too many questions. Excitement over finally figuring out the mystery is one thing, but he has manners and-
"Last Christmas, I gave you me heart, but the very next day, you gave it away..."
The notes are soft, almost unsure, though they're carried out with undeniable rhythm and incredible tone. Myungjun focuses on the ground, kicking at a speck on the carpet as he valiantly attempts to keep the heat in his face at bay. Jinwoo has to be staring, but it's like a siren has him locked up. He can't look away, and he doesn't want to either. Myungjun finishes the chorus before glancing up again.
There's a pause.
"You should close your mouth; never know when a fly might show up." Myungjun's smile is kind—a little more reserved than before—but carrying a playful tone that spikes Jinwoo's heart rate after the slow song.
"Sorry," Myungjun pipes up in the silence. "Didn't mean to scare you before. I was just teasing. Kind of who I am." He shrugs, one shoulder going up in a 'sorry, not sorry' type of gesture. The smile stays on his face. The atmosphere is much more relaxed, more comfortable than it had been at any point before. Jinwoo smiles back.
"Thank you," Jinwoo says hurriedly.
Myungjun tilts his head in question.
"For the song, I mean. You really didn't have to." Jinwoo glances down as he speaks. His attention is taken again when Myungjun laughs—a short, breathy laugh that Jinwoo kind of really wants to hear again. Myungjun replies, "No, really, don't worry about it. It's nice to sing for someone instead of for practice, even if I wasn't really..." Myungjun glances down at his pajamas, the clash of red and green almost blinding. "...expecting anyone." He finishes, voice a little choked up with his own contained laughter.
Jinwoo should really stop staring soon. They've got a nice thing going on now. He doesn't want to ruin it with his slow brain to movement response time.
"Maybe I can sing for you again sometime." Myungjun lifts a hand to cover his mouth. "Just, maybe when you're not carrying a leaky shopping bag?"
Leaky-
What?
Jinwoo lifts his paper bag with two arms. Once it's eye-level, he can see a dripping wet patch on bottom. And if he doesn't get the things out soon...
He's a struggling college student; he can only afford to go grocery shopping so many times a month.
After a rushed departure, some combination of of the words 'goodbye' and 'see you later' that might've become, "See you goodbye," Jinwoo is quickly unlocking his door and rushing into the kitchen. He yanks open his small freezer and manages to shove the whole bag into the icy block before slamming the door closed much harder than intended. He can dethaw most of the things later; now he just needs to salvage anything that remains even slightly frozen.
He makes his way back to the front door, intending to check it was locked in his haste, when he hears something. He presses his ear against the door, a motion made familiar to him over the past couple weeks. And across the hall, he can hear what might as well be music. He can hear Myungjun laughing—bright, high-pitched, and loud from his own apartment. After the spectacle Jinwoo put on, it's a wonder he could wait till the brunette was out of sight.
Jinwoo can't remember the last time he felt so happy having someone laugh at him.
Maybe next time he wants to hear Myungjun—laughing, singing, or otherwise—it won't have to be through a door.