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Chapter Text

Yeosang fiddled with the food container in his lap, fingers tugging at the plastic latches and smoothing over the already-sealed edges for what had to be the hundredth time. His hands were cold despite the car’s heater running, and his palms had a faint tremble he couldn’t shake. Every clink of plastic seemed louder than it should’ve been. His stomach was in knots, the tight kind that felt like it was actively eating itself with each passing mile. The familiar buildings of Seoul had already faded behind them, replaced with snow-dusted roads and trees lining the highway toward Ilsan. Each minute closer twisted the anxiety in his gut tighter. He forced himself to take a slow, measured breath and tried to calm down, but even that didn’t ease the churn in his chest.

“You doing okay?” Jongho asked from the driver’s seat, his tone light but tinged with concern. His eyes flicked between the road and Yeosang, catching the way his partner’s shoulders were drawn up toward his ears and how tightly he was clutching the container like it might escape.

Yeosang hummed quietly in response, summoning a smile that he hoped came off as casual and easy. It didn’t. The corners of his lips twitched too stiffly, and there was no sparkle in his eyes to match it.

Jongho didn’t press. He nodded, his own expression softening into something more understanding, and for a few beats the only sounds were the low hum of the car and the faint whoosh of passing traffic. Then, without a word, Jongho reached over and gently rested his hand on Yeosang’s thigh, his thumb giving a slow, comforting rub.

“I can tell you’re stressed. You’ve met my family before and they love you, Yeo.” Jongho said, his voice soft and steady.

Yeosang let out a breath and slid his hand over Jongho’s, intertwining their fingers briefly. His thumb brushed over Jongho’s knuckles.

“I know… but this isn’t just your parents, you said your whole family was going to be there.” Yeosang sighed, glancing over at him. His voice was quieter now, not panicked but resigned, an admission more than a complaint.

“It won’t be bad, I promise. It’s me, you, my parents, Jeongsik and his partner Yubin… umm… my father’s brother and his wife and their two kids, they’re still in middle and high school… my mother’s sister and husband and their daughter, Hana, she’s our age and I think that’s it.” Jongho said, pausing to mentally count. “Oh! I forgot Hana has a kid… a girl I think who’s 1 or 2 now.”

Yeosang turned to him fully, eyebrows raised and mouth parted in disbelief. “You act like that’s not a lot of people.” He huffed, the corners of his mouth twitching in half-exasperation, half-dread.

Jongho glanced over and squeezed his leg gently, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“It’ll be okay. My parents explained to everyone that if they wanted to be there, they had to sign the NDA, and no one had any issues with it. If you don’t want to stay for a few days, we don’t have to. We can just eat and leave, we don’t have to stay.” Jongho explained, stealing another glance at him.

His eyes lingered this time, taking in Yeosang’s outfit, specifically the ridiculous, bright green Christmas sweater with three-dimensional bells on it. The sleeves were slightly too long, and the neckline had a patch of red tinsel sewn in. Paired with his dark red, freshly curled hair, Yeosang looked equal parts charming and completely out of place, like someone ripped out of a holiday drama against his will.

But to Jongho, he looked perfect.

It felt a little surreal being out like this, mid-afternoon on a Wednesday, when most days at this time they were either in dance rehearsals with Wooyoung, coaching younger trainees, or stuck in stifling creative team meetings that dragged on forever. The change of pace was jarring, but not unwelcome. Yeosang let his mind drift as the car glided smoothly down the familiar suburban streets of Ilsan, but he snapped back to reality when he realized the car had stopped.

He blinked, eyes refocusing on the scene outside the windshield, Jongho’s family home, cozy and perfectly dressed up for the season. Strings of warm white lights lined the eaves and windows, a glowing reindeer stood proud on the front lawn beside a few inflatable characters, and a wreath hung centered on the dark green door. His stomach lurched again. This was it.

Yeosang looked over at Jongho.

“Ready?” Jongho asked quietly.

Yeosang hesitated, then nodded. They couldn’t sit in the car all day without raising suspicions, or, more realistically, freezing. He forced his door open, the cold air immediately rushing in to sting his cheeks. Jongho rounded to the trunk to grab their bags while Yeosang clutched the cookie container like it was sacred cargo.

When Jongho’s mom had asked them to bring something to dinner, Yeosang had spiraled almost immediately. He could barely make toast without burning it, let alone anything worthy of impressing Jongho’s family. Thankfully, salvation came in the form of Seonghwa. After a pleading text and a minor panic attack, the eldest had stepped in with gentle patience and ruthless standards. The two of them had spent hours baking, perfecting a small mountain of cookies until Seonghwa and Yeosang were satisfied. It had taken nearly six batches before they had any Yeosang dared to bring. The dorms had smelled like a bakery for a week, and his roommates were sick of cookies.

Yeosang’s steps were careful as he followed Jongho up the short walkway and into the house. The moment he crossed the threshold, a wave of warmth and comfort hit him. The interior looked straight out of a Hallmark movie, garlands wrapped around banisters, ribbons cascading from the railings, and a pristine Christmas tree glimmering in the living room. The scent of something savory and delicious filled the air, and soft instrumental carols played in the background. His nerves eased slightly.

But the peace was short-lived.

A chaotic blur of motion streaked through the hallway as two preteens came barreling out of the dining room, shouting and laughing as they tore through the living room. Yeosang stumbled back, nearly knocked off balance.

Jongho sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly used to this.

“Hyunjae! Stop chasing your brother!” a woman’s voice called sharply from the kitchen. She appeared a second later, head popping around the corner. Her expression shifted instantly when she saw who had arrived, eyes lighting up with warmth and recognition.

“Hayun! The boys are here!” the woman called from the kitchen, voice bright and clear like a bell ringing through the holiday bustle. She dried her hands on a towel tucked into her waistband as she peeked around the corner, her face already lit with joy.

Another woman turned, her features similar to Jongho’s, with the same sharp eyes and warm smile. She crossed the space with purpose, arms outstretched as she pulled Jongho into a firm hug, squeezing him like it had been months instead of weeks. Her perfume was soft, like jasmine, clinging faintly to her sweater. Then she turned her attention to Yeosang, and the affection in her smile somehow grew even wider.

“Yeosang-ah! Oh I’m so glad you could make it!” Jongho’s mother beamed, pulling him into a warm, maternal hug that smelled faintly of garlic and ginger and all things comforting.

Yeosang stiffened for a heartbeat, reflex more than rejection, his arms half-hovering before wrapping gently around her. The hug was unfamiliar but safe. Her arms reminded him, for a brief moment, of what comfort should feel like.

“Eomma, you’re gonna squeeze him to death, ” Jongho laughed, voice teasing as he reached to gently pat his mom’s shoulder. Mrs. Choi rolled her eyes, but she released Yeosang, still smiling as she looked him over like she was checking for signs of stress or weight loss.

“The food is almost ready if you’d like to go see everyone else. I think they’re in the living room.” she said, nodding toward the softly glowing lights strung around the doorway.

Yeosang nodded quietly, then glanced at Jongho, who gave him a small tilt of the head toward the living room. He adjusted the cookie container in his arms and stepped further inside, trying not to overthink each movement.

The house felt like it belonged in a holiday magazine, every corner dressed in seasonal charm. The scent of roasted meats and sweet spices lingered in the air, drawing Yeosang forward. Rounding the corner into the living room, his eyes landed on a young woman seated on the couch, her hair tied into a loose ponytail. A baby rested against her hip, her tiny fingers busy gripping the neckline of her mother’s sweater.

“Hana,” Jongho greeted with an easy smile as he approached, offering her a one-sided hug. “This is my boyfriend Yeosang.”

Yeosang offered a polite bow and then gave the baby a small wave, instinctively cooing a soft "hello" under his breath. To his surprise, the baby giggled and reached out for him with both arms, her fingers opening and closing in little grabs.

His eyes widened like saucers as he turned to Hana, alarm flickering in his expression. She laughed gently, clearly amused.

“Do you want to hold her?” Hana asked, already shifting the baby in preparation.

Yeosang nodded a bit too quickly, like he didn’t trust himself to speak without squeaking. He sat beside her carefully, posture tense with anticipation. Hana handed the baby over with practiced ease, and Yeosang received her like he was being passed a sacred relic. His arms instinctively supported her head, even though she was clearly old enough not to need it.

“What’s her name?” he asked, eyes wide as he watched the baby latch onto his finger and try to guide it to her mouth with laser focus.

“Sunhee,” Hana said with a smile, gently redirecting her daughter’s hand away from Yeosang’s finger. “She’s a little grabby.”

Yeosang looked down at Sunhee, who had now found the buttons on his ugly Christmas sweater far more interesting. His chest swelled with something soft and warm. She was round-faced, rosy-cheeked, with a tuft of black hair that curled slightly at the ends. Easily the cutest baby he’d ever seen.

“How have you been Jjong?” Hana asked, leaning back with the ease of someone who’d known Jongho her whole life.

There was no answer. Yeosang glanced up from Sunhee, curious, and saw Jongho frozen in place, staring at him with an expression that was half awe, half unfiltered affection.

“Jongho,” Hana laughed, nudging him with her foot. He blinked rapidly like he’d just come out of a dream.

“Huh?”

Yeosang couldn’t help but laugh, and the sudden sound made Sunhee laugh too, a bright, high-pitched giggle that made Hana smile again.

“I asked how have you been,” Hana repeated, settling deeper into the cushions.

Jongho shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The usual. Work, trying not to kill my roommates, more work. We leave for Europe in a few weeks.”

“Do you have any idea how boring that is?” Hana asked with a sly grin, the exact same cocky tilt of the mouth Yeosang had seen on Jongho a thousand times before. He blinked, yeah, definitely hereditary.

Jongho rolled his eyes. “And what have you been up to?”

Hana paused for a second, eyes flicking to Sunhee.

“Working, I had a baby, so that took up a good amount of time.” she said dryly, tilting her head like she was daring him to argue.

“Are you still with Chanwoo?” Jongho asked.

Yeosang felt the temperature in the room drop slightly, the air tightening just a little. Hana’s smile dimmed, her body shifting back against the couch in a way that made Yeosang instinctively adjust Sunhee in his arms.

“No.” Her voice softened, the edge gone. “I am not.”

“Good.” Jongho replied without hesitation, and even he looked a bit surprised at the weight behind his words. “I thought he was a shit bag when you brought him last year. He comes around you and Sunhee, you let me know, okay?”

Hana nodded, lips pressed together in a quiet thank you. Yeosang felt the full shape of Jongho’s protectiveness, it wasn’t performative, it wasn’t for show. He didn’t just protect Yeosang. He protected everyone he cared about. That made Yeosang’s heart squeeze.

The heavy quiet that settled was thankfully interrupted by Mrs. Choi yelling from the kitchen, her voice cutting through the awkwardness like a hot knife. Dinner time.

Yeosang shifted Sunhee gently in his arms and returned her to Hana. The baby whined at the transition but quickly calmed once back in familiar arms.

He stood, brushing down the front of his sweater, and looked toward Jongho, who offered him a proud, quiet smile. Together, they followed the others into the dining room.

The space looked like something out of a movie, a long table covered in a deep red tablecloth, trimmed with a shimmering gold and green runner. Elegant white china was perfectly placed at every seat, and in the center sat an overflowing spread of food: bulgogi steaming beside bowls of japchae, a rainbow of banchan dishes, golden roasted ham, mashed potatoes, and more. Yeosang’s stomach let out a loud grumble.

Mrs. Choi pointed to a spot beside her and Jongho, and Yeosang took his seat, adjusting the chair slightly to sit upright.

“I know we don’t say grace, but I want to express how grateful I am to have everyone here,” Mr. Choi said, his eyes scanning the table with gentle warmth.

Yeosang picked up his chopsticks and began eating, the flavors and textures grounding him in the moment as conversations swirled around him like snowflakes. He only perked up when he heard his name.

“So Yeosang-ssi, you also work for the same company?” Jongho’s uncle asked from across the table, voice rich and slightly rough.

Yeosang quickly swallowed and nodded politely. “Yes, sir. I work for KQ as well.”

“And what do you do there?” the uncle pressed, leaning slightly forward. His wife, Haeun, smacked his arm lightly.

“Aiya, Minjun, leave the poor boy alone. Let him eat in peace.”

Yeosang chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s no worries. I’m a choreographer there. Jongho and I are on the same team.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Yeosang braced himself. He could feel it: the smirk .

“No, that’s not all you do. What’s your new job title, Yeo?” Jongho grinned beside him, smug as ever.

“New title? Did you get a promotion?” Mrs. Choi’s eyes lit up like someone had plugged her in.

Yeosang ducked his head, cheeks burning hot. “I-I did. After all the things that happened during our North America leg of the tour and how successful it was. The executives gave me a new role. I’m now Director of Performance.”

“That’s amazing! So what do you do now? Anything different? Did you get a pay raise with it?” she rattled off, barely breathing between questions. 

“I did get a pay raise. Instead of overseeing everything regarding Wooyoung, I now oversee all performance related aspects for everything. We have another group, Xikers, so I choreograph all their dances and oversee their practices. I don’t get to teach them as much as I did before, which I miss a bit. But I get to work more with our trainees, since they are the future of our company.” Yeosang laughed, “And I still work with Wooyoung, I don’t think he’d ever let me go.”

“Sounds like you’re moving up in things. Oh I’m so happy for you.” Mrs. Choi beamed, her hand over her heart.

“That’s a great promotion, Yeosang.” Mr. Choi added from the other end of the table, and the genuine tone in his voice made Yeosang’s breath catch.

Yeosang nodded, throat tightening. Words wouldn’t come. The affection in their voices wrapped around him like a weighted blanket.

“Are you okay, dear?” Mrs. Choi asked gently as the chatter resumed.

Yeosang sniffed, blinking fast. “I am, thank you. It just… It means a lot hearing that you’re proud of me. My parents don’t see things in the same way that you all do. It took a long time, almost 10 years actually, for them to recognize my achievements. So just to have you support me after not knowing me for very long, it means a lot.”

Mrs. Choi’s expression shifted, joy replaced by a softness he couldn’t quite name.

“Well, just know that we will always support you here.” Her voice was tender. Jongho’s hand slid under the table and rested on Yeosang’s thigh again, rubbing small soothing circles. “And your parents are missing out on a wonderful son. You are always welcome here, with or without Jongho.” she added, eyes twinkling.

“Thank you,” Yeosang whispered, blinking away tears.

Mrs. Choi pulled him into a hug. It was warm. Secure. Exactly what he needed.

Then, with perfect comic timing…

“Yeosang-ssi, what do your parents do for a living that you aren’t home with them?” Minjun asked.

Yeosang froze. Jongho shot him a glance: You okay?

“My parents are professors. They both teach maths.” Yeosang said carefully, navigating around the emotional landmines.

“At what college?”

“Yonsei University.”

Then, from further down the table: “Wait!” Jeongsik spoke up, mouth still half-full. “Is your dad Dr. Kang, Dean of Students?”

Yeosang sighed internally. “Yes. He is.”

Jeongsik laughed. “Dude your dad is a dick!”

The table went dead silent for half a beat.

Then chaos.

Mrs. Choi was scolding. Jongho barked, “ Jeongsik! ” Yeosang tried not to choke on his water from laughing.

“It’s okay!” he said louder than usual, waving off the tension. “It’s fine. Jeongsik… you’re- you’re not wrong.” He chuckled. “My dad is Dr. Kang Sangook, Dean of Students and professor of mathematics. My mom is Dr. Sin Harin, Vice President of Academic Affairs and professor of mathematics.”

“Jeongsik, that was extremely rude.” Mr. Choi said, his voice cold as he stared at his youngest son for a moment. “Apologize.” 

“No- No- It’s okay-” Yeosang said, still trying to calm everything down.  “I don’t spend holidays or much time with my parents for a reason,” He chuckled a bit awkwardly as he felt his cheeks heat. “And I think everyone now knows why.”

It took a moment for the table to settle but soon enough everyone was back to enjoying the food and chatting. Yeosang was surprised slightly with how long dinner lasted before Mrs. Choi asked if anyone wanted dessert. The idea of eating more food made Yeosang feel slightly nauseous from how full he already was, but accepted a slice of apple pie with ice cream he shared with Jongho. 

After dessert, everyone shoved into the living room for presents. To save on money, everyone drew a name and that was who you got presents for. Yeosang lucked out with Mr. Choi, and smiled when he saw the man’s face light up when he opened the fancy golf balls Yeosang got him. Yeosang had no idea golf balls could be so expensive. Yeosang watched as Jongho’s Aunt Hayun handed him a small wrapped box. He unwrapped the shiny green paper, showing a beautiful, sleek leather wallet. 

“Thank you,” Yeosang said, looking up at her with a smile. 

Once all the gifts were handed out and opened, Mr. Choi went around collecting garbage from everyone, keeping the living room free from clutter. But not forgetting to place bows on the baby’s head. Each time she giggled loudly at the rustling, her eyes shooting up then forcing them shut, smiling. Yeosang couldn’t help but laugh each time, finding the whole thing too wholesome for mankind. 

Jongho pushed off the couch they all huddled around. Yeosang shifted with the movement, looking up at the other. Jongho smiled down at him softly before walking over to help his father. Yeosang then realized that he was sitting in the living room with the rest of Jongho’s family. He turned slightly, trying to subtly shake the nerves as he looked over at Hana who had a small smile on her face. Easiest way to calm his sudden nerves? Baby. 

She smiled at him then stood up, walking closer to him. “The cousins are gonna start uno at the dining table if you care to join.” She offered, “And Sunhee here would love to play with you, right sweets?” 

Sunhee nodded profusely, looking between her mom and Yeosang, who couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Yeah? You wanna help me win?” Yeosang smiled. Sunhee smiled, nodding once more. Yeosang smiled back, holding his hand out to take her. Hana mouthed a ‘thank you’ as she passed her over. 

“I’m gonna help Hayun clean up in the kitchen. If she gets fussy, just call me okay?” She smiled. 

Yeosang nodded softly, lifting himself off the couch, and walking over to the dining table. A small group formed at the table, each taking seats as Jeongsik shuffled the cards. 

“Care if we join in for a game or two?” Yeosang asked, holding a very excited Sunhee on his hip, who was attempting to wiggle out of his arms. 

“Oh, Yeo, yeah sure.” Jeongsik smiled. 

Yeosang sat across the table from him, setting Sunhee down on his knee. Jeongsik started passing out cards to all the cousins as Jongho came into the dining room. 

“So this is where you ventured off to.” He sighed, grabbing the back of Yeosang’s chair. Yeosang turned around, slightly startled but smiled up at him. 

“Jjong you joining us?” Jeongsik asked. 

“Like I'd miss a game of Uno.” He rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Yeosang. Sunhee turned her head, looking over at Jongho. Her mouth dropped slightly, as if she was shocked to see him there. Jongho looked at her, mimicking her face, making her laugh and look back at Yeosang. 

Yeosang looked at her then at Jongho, wide eyed, too focused on Jeongsik handing him his cards. Jongho smiled softly at him then asked, “When did you get the baby?” 

“Hana went to clean up.” Yeosang put simply. “So me and little one are gonna beat you guys at uno, isn’t that right?” 

Sunhee laughed, nodding her head. 

“Oh.” Jongho laughed, “We will see about that.” Jongho made a mean face at her, but she only mimicked the face back, making the table laugh. 

Once everyone got their cards, Yeosang showed his cards to Sunhee who studied them hard. Starting with Jeongsik and going left, each person at the table got a turn, placing cards down on the pile. By the time it got to Yeosang and Sunhee, a yellow six was on the pile. Looking at his hand, he had a few yellow cards, a 2, a reverse and a plus two. Sunhee pointed at the plus two and looked up at Yeosang. 

“You sure?” He asked her. She nodded her head, already pulling the card roughly out of his hand. He loosened his grip on the card, letting her reach across the table, placing the card down on the pile. She turned her head giving a mischievous grin towards Jongho. 

Jongho looked at the pile, sighed, then looked at his cards, reaching forward to grab two cards. Yeosang let out an airy laugh catching his attention. 

“Was that your fault?” He softly scolded. Yeosang pointed at Sunhee just as she pointed at him, making the three laugh. 

The game carried on for a while, a few people at the table got close to uno, but each time, someone swooped in with a plus two or a reverse, keeping the game from ending. Then Jongho got his last card, announcing uno to the group. 

Yeosang looked at his hand, with only two cards left in his hand, he plotted to try and stop him. Sunhee rocked back and forth in Yeosang’s lap, watching the game silently. Yeosang looked down at her with a smile, patting her hair down, catching her attention. 

“We’re gonna win yeah?” 

“Mhm.” She hummed, nodding back at him. She looked over at Jongho, leaning back towards Yeosang, peaking at the card in Jongho’s hand. A blue 4. She smiled back, tapping Yeosang on the hand. Yeosang looked at her confused, but let her see his hand. She smiled then nodded to herself. 

Yeosang’s turn came and Sunhee perked up, tapping Yeosang on the hand. Yeosang leaned forward, putting his ear closer to her as she whispered something in his ear. 

“You sure?” Yeosang asked. She smiled back at him. Yeosang nodded, placing his green five on top of the blue five in the pile. “Uno.”  Jongho looked at his hand and sighed. He reached forward, grabbing six cards until he pulled a green, placing it down on the pile, then turned to Yeosang. 

“Hate you.” He grumbled. 

“No you don’t.” Yeosang chuckled. 

As the game continued, the color remained green. Yeosang tried to maintain a straight face as it circled around back to him, holding a plus four in his hand. He snicked as he leaned forward, holding Sunhee as he placed his last card down. 

“We win!” He cheered, making Sunhee yell with him. “We won, Sunhee.” She laughed at him, then stuck her tongue out at everyone else at the table, rubbing it in their faces. 

“That’s not fair, you cheated.” Jeongsik frowned. Sunhee only scrunched her nose at him, her tongue still out, making him pout harder. 

“You looked at my cards.” Jongho whined. Sunhee whipped her head at him, giving him the same face. 

“Sore loser.” Yeosang sassed, mimicking Sunhee’s face. 

Jongho rolled his eyes, tossing his cards down. “No fair, you had a helper.” 

“No one said anything before we started.” Yeosang shrugged. 

“Next time, Sunhee can play her own hand.” Jeongsik laughed. 

“Okay, okay that’s enough games, little one.” Hana smiled, standing behind Yeosang and Jongho. “How’d you do?” 

“We won, like I said we would.” Yeosang smiled. 

“Yeah?” Hana raised her brows in surprise. “What a good helper you are, Sunnie. Good job!” 

Sunhee smiled, then yawned, blinking a few times. “Uh, oh. Someone’s getting tired.” Jongho commented. 

“Yeah, we’re probably gonna go soon. Someone needs her beauty-” Hana yawned, “Sleep.” 

“Yeah, you both need some after helping out here.” Jeongsik nodded. 

After cleaning up the table of all the cards, family members started making their way out the door, saying their goodbyes. Yeosang was able to have full conversations with some of them, even Jeongsik who ranted about his college classes that Yeosang could only laugh at, knowing his pain. 

Once the crowd died down, leaving only Jongho, Yeosang and his parents left in the home. Even without the many conversations, the home still felt full, safe and comfy with the aromas of good food and the soft hum of Christmas music in the background that they could only hear after everyone had left. 

“Are you two staying tonight?” Mrs. Choi asked. Jongho looked at Yeosang, giving him a questioning look. 

“The guest room is all prepped for you two if you decide to stay. Or you can sleep with Jongho in his old room. Either or.” Mr. Choi nodded, grabbing the trashbag from the kitchen. 

“Y-yeah. I think we’ll stay.” Yeosang replied, scratching his arm slightly. “If that’s okay.” 

“Of course!” Mrs. Choi cheered. “Make yourself at home, take a look around.” 

Jongho smiled softly at him, seeing Yeosang sighing softly made his heart warm. “Come on, Yeo. I’ll give you a tour.” 

Yeosang smiled lightly and followed Jongho up the stairs. The upstairs was a bit cramped, but homey nonetheless. 

“That’s Jeongsik’s old room,” Jongho said, pointing to a door that had a few stickers on it. “My parent’s room,” He pointed down the hall, “Bathroom… and…” He opened the door to the right. “My room, well, our room now.” He smiled. 

Yeosang walked in and Jongho gently shut the door behind them. The room was simply decorated, a few sun-faded baseball posters on the walls, a keyboard piano and a double bed with a plain blue comforter. 

“Nothing much. I took most of my stuff with me when I moved into the dorms.” He said and put their bag down. 

Yeosang walked around the small room, looking at the posters. “It’s fine.” He said quietly. Yeosang was in his head, a mixture of physically being tired and his social battery running low when he felt warm arms snake around his waist. 

“I’m proud of you,” Jongho said quietly in his ear, leaving a gentle kiss on Yeosang’s neck. Chills ran up his spine and Yeosang leaned back against Jongho, looking up at him. 

“It wasn’t as bad as I expected,” Yeosang said, his eyes wandering over Jongho’s face, his dark eyes that made him feel safe, that softened as Yeosang looked at him. 

Jongho chuckled, a warm sound that radiated into Yeosang’s back. “You used to go home with Wooyoung for holidays, and you were worried about my family?”

Yeosang deadpanned lightly at Jongho, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve known Wooyoung since we were 15, it’s different. Also I wasn’t dating him… there were less expectations for me. All I had to do was show up, eat and play with Kyungmin.” 

Jongho nodded and tightened his grip around Yeosang’s waist. “Merry Christmas, Yeo.” 

Yeosang turned in his arms, facing Jongho with a smile. “Merry Christmas,” He said, leaning forward and connecting their lips. 

He felt Jongho sigh gently and Yeosang smiled into the kiss as he draped his arms loosely around Jongho’s neck. Jongho pulled back for a moment, smirking lightly. The second kiss lingered just a heartbeat longer, and Yeosang felt the shift. He felt hands move from his waist to his hips and soon enough Yeosang felt his back hitting the soft mattress as he laid back. Jongho looked down over him, a half smile on his face. 

“Color?”

“Green,” Yeosang said and leaned up to kiss him again before he pulled back again. “Jjong, we’re at your parents house…” He said, cheeks getting red and hot. 

The smirk on Jongho’s face grew as he leaned down, kissing just below Yeosang’s ear. “Then I guess you better be quiet.”

Chapter Text

Falling softly, Mingi leaned up against the door frame, watching silently. Across the room, with mounds of paperwork and a pen scribbling away on each and everyone of them, Yunho was nosedeep into his work, like usual. Seven pm. That’s what Yunho promised. But that didn’t go very far, but Mingi expected nothing less. 

With the others out of town, the two promised to make time for one another. Yunho specifically promised the other to spend time with him. They came to a deal to celebrate the new year, only hours away. But of course it wouldn’t be a night out without Mingi dragging Yunho out of the office by his ear. After a moment of silence, Mingi sighed. 

“How many times are we gonna do this, Yunho?” Mingi laughed at him, spooking the other. Yunho shot his head up, looking for the source of the voice. His eyes darted from Mingi to the time resting in the corner of his laptop that sat on his desk. 

“Shit.” Yunho whispered, not going unnoticed by Mingi. 

“Yeah, you’re lucky I got here early this time.” Mingi replied, walking further into the room. He reached Yunho’s desk, grabbing the back of the chair that sat between them, looking over the desk, propping himself up against it.

“I’m so sorry.” Yunho sighed, straightening his posture. “I guess I lost track of time. Lexie sent over the files from Courrèges, the flight management with Seonghwa and his travel team. Seonghwa will literally have my head if he has to handle Kevin and the stunts he's been pulling on his own.”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone wants to deal with Kevin.” Mingi sighed, pulling the chair out to take a seat. This could be a while.

“I still don’t understand how he has a job.” Yunho muttered as he shook his head, moving from writing things to furiously typing. The room fell to a silent hum, only sounds of Yunho’s keyboard clacking away as Mingi watched with a neutral look on his face. His eyes wandered, watching the flickers of annoyance and frustrations take laps on Yunho’s face, rushing to get his work done. 

“You gonna continue going on tangents or are we gonna go to this party?” Mingi asked with a raised brow. 

“Do we have to go?” Yunho pouted, his eyes never leaving his computer. 

“Yes, Yunho. We have to go.” Mingi groaned, knowing that was coming. “I'm not letting you out of this one.”

Yunho sighed, finally looking up at Mingi. “You see all the shit I have to do here right?” 

Mingi stood up, walking around the table, circling the side as if Yunho was his prey, “My eyes work, babe.” Mingi nodded back. “But all of this-” He gestured to the table, “Can wait till tomorrow, even though it’s technically a holiday I know you’re gonna end up here by 10am.” Mingi leaned on the edge of the desk, facing Yunho, attempting to gain his attention but Yunho never looked up. 

“But-” Yunho sighed, tilting his head to the side. 

“Ah ah.” Mingi cut him off. He slid his finger under Yunho’s chin, forcing his eyes away from the computer, looking straight into his own. “You promised. You promised me that by 7 o'clock you would officially be done with your day so that you and I could have one night to ourselves. Before shit hits the fan and we leave for Europe. Even if the others have a whole week to spend with their families, I know you couldn’t spend more than five hours away from your computer. So you promised me one night.” 

Yunho’s eyes never left Mingis, only shifting from eye to eye. “When was this?” 

Mingi’s finger dropped from Yunho’s chin, his arms crossing as he deadpanned back at him, his annoyance spiking. “Please tell me you're joking.” 

Yunho chuckled, shaking his head. “Okay, okay. Five minutes.” his hands raising slightly in surrender. 

“Yunho, it's already seven. We have to go.” Mingi’s voice cracked with a whine, pushing off the desk. 

“Five minutes.” Yunho begged slightly. 

“I know I can’t argue with you. But I can, and will force you to stay out longer, so keep pushing Yunho. I dare you.” Mingi said walking away with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“I know, I know. Let me just write this status email to Lexie so she knows where I left off for tomorrow morning.” Yunho nodded to himself as his fingers tapped at his laptop. 

“You put too much work on that poor girl.” Mingi sighed and crossed his arms, turning back to Yunho.

“Eh, she’s not my assistant.” Yunho hummed. 

“Exactly, she’s Seonghwa’s. Don’t lie to me and say that you don’t add work to her plate.” Mingi deadpanned, “That girl needs a raise… or at least a coffee.” 

Yunho was mindlessly nodding his head in agreement, then stopped looking up at Mingi. “I-I don’t think she drinks coffee.” He shrugged, “Seonghwa always brings her a tea in the mornings when they’re working on… Seonghwa things.” 

“Well then next time I see her, I’ll get her a tea on your behalf.” Mingi chuckled. 

“No need.” Yunho sighed, hitting the send button key on his screen. “Email sent. I will get her one on Monday. But for now-” With one last scan of his screen, Yunho shut his laptop, “I’m all yours.” 

“Fucking finally.” Mingi rolled his eyes, dropping his arms to his sides. 

“Hey, it’s hard keeping this place afloat with a million and one things.” Yunho replied defiantly,

standing up out of his chair. 

“Never said it wasn’t babe.” Mingi smiled. Yunho sighed, picking up his laptop bag off the floor. “So are we heading back to the apartment?” 

“Nope.” Mingi smiled devilishly. “I think I know a place better than my closet for outfits.” 

“Outfits?” Yunho raised a brow, pausing in motion. “What is this? A Halloween party?” 

“Yunho, It’s New Year's Eve. Everyone dresses up.” Mingi groaned. 

“To watch a ball drop?” Yunho asked, shaking his head, “Never understood the hype.” 

“You don’t have to- why are you trying to argue with me?” Mingi sighed. “Can’t we just go out to a nice nightclub with some friends, listen to music and just vibe?” 

Yunho sighed, releasing the stress in his shoulders, “You’re right, sorry I’m-” 

“Still in work mode. I know.” Mingi smiled, letting the bickering roll off his shoulders. He approached Yunho, his hands as light as feathers, dusting off the shoulders on his suit jacket then cradled his face gently. “I get it.” Yunho gave him a small smile back as Mingi kissed him on the forehead, his hands dropping back to his sides as he headed for the door. 

“So, what is considered party appropriate?” Yunho grabbed the handles of his laptop bag, pushing back on his chair with his knees, following Mingi towards the door. The younger’s eyes scanned Yunho’s outfit, making Yunho stop in his tracks. He was wearing what he always was for work: a suit. Mingi pursed his lips and smirked. Not exactly what he had in mind, but they’ve wasted too much time as it was. 

“What you have on now is fine.” Mingi shrugged, leading the way out of the room. 

Yunho furrowed his brows, quickly gathering the rest of his things as Mingi headed down the hall. With long strides, Mingi made his way down to Seonghwa’s office, giggling at the door. Yunho looked in both directions, in search of the other, seeing his black hair hunched over. 

Yunho laughed to himself, he should have known, “I’m pretty sure Seonghwa keeps his door locked.” His voice echoing down the hall.

A clicking noise was heard as a response as Yunho got closer, seeing Mingi’s mischievous face popping up. “Was locked.” 

With a twist of the handle, the door opened, Mingi letting himself in to browse some options. Yunho made it into the doorway, staring at the other. “Why?” 

“Seonghwa said something about a vest during his last fitting with Wooyoung and it piqued my interest.” Mingi shrugged. 

“Not what I meant.” Yunho sighed, half chuckling. “Why did you- nope. How- when did you learn to pick locks?” 

“A, I’m jack of all trades, honey. I can basically do anything. And B, I have a lock pick on my keys.” Mingi smirked at him, then swung his keys around his finger before shoving them in his pocket. 

“For times like these?” Yunho questioned. 

“Precisely. Now help me find this vest.” Mingi nodded, searching through the racks of clothes that sat in numerous parts of the room. Yunho sighed reluctantly, dropping his bag at the door, moving further in the room. 

“What exactly am I looking for ?” 

“A ve-” 

“If you say vest one more fucking time, I will go back into my office.” He half threatened, releasing a sigh.  

Mingi turned back to him sharply then slowly spoke,“What I was gonna say was a vest. Low cut, black mostly like a shiny fabric I think with like-”

“Squiggles along the sides?” Yunho held up the garment in question, Mingi whipped his head around. 

“Yeah!” Mingi smiled, taking it out of his hands. “Isn't it sick looking? Hwa was bitching about how it came in the wrong size for Wooyoung and he wasn’t able to tailor it to fit him.” Mingi sized it up to himself, looking down at it then over at Yunho for a reaction. 

“I’d like to see it on.” Yunho shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“Ok, Mister ‘gonna take forty years to finish working’.” Mingi threw the garment at Yunho who flinched but caught the vest. 

Mingi threw the sweatshirt that he was wearing over his head and onto the floor, grabbing the vest, putting it on. Yunho shamelessly stared at Mingi the whole time, a mildly amused smirk on his face. The vest sat low, like really low on his chest, showing more than he, and Yunho for that matter, had expected. 

“Woah.” Yunho blinked. “Thats-” Mingi looked up at him, his hands pressing down on the fabric, flattening the wrinkles along his chest. 

“Does it look okay?” Mingi asked, searching for a mirror in the room. 

“Yeah- I- Yeah I think it looks great.” Yunho stuttered. “I mean it’s different.” 

“Good different?” Mingi asked, standing in front of the mirror, eyeing between his outfit and Yunho who stood a few feet behind him. 

“Do you like it? Your opinion should be the only one that matters.” Yunho replied.

“But I asked for your input.” Mingi said back, looking at the other. “What do you think?” 

“I-I like it.” Yunho could feel the warmth rising on his cheeks. Based on his reaction alone, Mingi was satisfied, sending a wicked look Yunho’s way as he grabbed his forgotten hoodie off the floor. 

“Okay good. Because we don’t have time to dwell. We have a party to get to and friends to see.” 

“Where are we going again?” Yunho asked. 

“Just a small party, nothing crazy.” 

–

It was definitely crazy. And definitely something Yunho didn’t sign himself up for. Luckily, Mingi had brought him into this mess and was going to be the one to clean him up. He didn’t expect to be pressed up against people the second they got through the double doors of this building. 

“Mingi, I don’t think this is some small party.” Yunho said hesitantly as the pair got out of their uber. 

“Intimdating on the outside, babe. Trust me and stay close. I have to find our friends.” Mingi grinned, taking Yunho’s hand as he led them inside. 

“Friends?” Yunho asked, the question dying in the air.

The lights were the first thing to catch him off guard. Then the space of the room and the amount of people. The flashing lights strobing over every square inch of the giant venue made Yunho’s heart race. Yunho kept a firm grip on Mingi’s hand as they weaved through the crowd of neon bodies. 

“Where are we going?” Yunho shouted over the music. Mingi looked back, flashing him a big smile. 

“You’ll see,”

Yunho huffed at the lack of information and followed, the pair finally making it to a more secluded part of the room, a few booths. Yunho watched Mingi peak around before his face lit up. 

“Mingi!” He heard from in the booth. Yunho took a step forward and saw Mingi dapping up someone he immediately recognized. 

“What’s up Jackson?” Mingi smiled. Jackson looked over, his smile widening as he saw Yunho. 

“You made it! Mingi mentioned you may have had to work.” Jackson turned to Mingi, wiggling his eyebrows slightly,”Did you have to do anything drastic to get him away from his desk?”

Mingi laughed and shook his head. “Nah, nothing too bad. I just wanted to check in and say ‘hey’. We’re gonna go grab a drink.” 

Jackson nodded and the couple walked away. Yunho got close to Mingi, slightly shocked. 

“How are you friends with Jackson Wang and I didn’t know?” Yunho asked, a mixture of surprise and jealousy in his voice. 

“Yu- relax,” Mingi said as they approached the bar. “I took Wooyoung for a taping for a music show one day and Jackson was there doing his own promotions. We started chatting while Woo performed. It’s just a friendship, I promise. I’ve got you and…” Mingi chuckled a bit and lowered voice, “I can assure you there is no one else and there will be no one else.”

“I still don’t know if this is really my scene,” Yunho muttered.

Mingi turned to him, the grin softening into something more reassuring. “It’s okay. You don’t have to dance on the speakers, unless you want to. Just… be with me, yeah?”

Yunho looked at him, then down at their hands. “Yeah. Okay. I’m here.”

Mingi squeezed his hand. “That’s all I need.”

---

The warehouse was a cathedral of chaos. UV lights cut across the ceiling. LED roses bloomed across projection screens. The DJ, masked and cloaked, loomed like some ancient deity resurrected with a mixer and turntables. This place blew the nightclub in Vegas out of the water.

The beat was hypnotic, grinding, pulsing like a heartbeat wrapped in thunder. Mingi dragged Yunho in through the crowd.

Mingi was electric. He fed off the energy around him like a spark catching fire. Every drop of the beat sent him higher. He spun, slid, and jumped with wild, joyful abandon.

Yunho hovered near the edge, overwhelmed by the sound and the flashing lights, but anchored by one thing: Mingi, always in sight.

Mingi looked over, saw Yunho’s stiff shoulders, his uncertain expression, and wove his way back. He took both of Yunho’s hands.

“Hey.”

Yunho blinked, meeting his eyes.

“You’re doing great,” Mingi said, smiling. “Just breathe. Forget the crowd. Just look at me.”

Yunho nodded slowly. Mingi moved closer, their foreheads almost touching. “The music’s not out here,” Mingi whispered. “It’s in you.”

They stood like that for a moment, the noise all around, but the connection between them silent, grounding, real. Then Mingi started to sway gently, guiding Yunho with him.

And Yunho followed.

---

As the night unfolded, Yunho loosened.

It wasn’t instant. It wasn’t dramatic. But step by step, smile by smile, he gave in. He let the rhythm take him. He let Mingi’s joy wash over him. He danced. Not like Mingi, wild and untamed, but with a quiet intensity, a deliberate presence.

They danced together. They laughed together.

At one point, Mingi spun Yunho around in a full circle, causing him to bump into a guy in an LED cloak. Yunho apologized, but the guy just laughed and gave him a thumbs-up. Mingi pulled him back into his arms, beaming.

“I love this,” Yunho shouted over the music.

Mingi leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “I love you.”

Yunho turned his head, smiling wide. “You better.”

---

As midnight approached, the entire room seemed to tense, the kind of tension before something beautiful. The music softened into ambient tones. Spotlights turned upward.

The countdown began. “Ten… nine… eight…”

Mingi grabbed Yunho by the waist, pulling him in. Their chests rose and fell together. The sound of hundreds of voices echoed through the warehouse.

“Five… four…”

Mingi looked at him, his eyes lit up by strobes and lasers and love. “Best year yet?”

Yunho laughed. “The one when I met you? Hell yeah.”

“Three… two… ONE!”

The drop hit like an earthquake. Confetti exploded from the ceiling. The lights went full spectrum. Fireworks burst in strobing arcs above the crowd.

And Mingi kissed him.

There, in the chaos and beauty and pounding sound, they kissed like they were the only two people in the universe.

Yunho wrapped his arms around him and didn’t care about the people or the noise or the lights.

All he felt was Mingi. 

His rhythm. His fire. His love.

And the beat went on.

---

The door to Yunho’s apartment clicked shut behind them, sealing out the cold and the noise of the city. It was late, later than Yunho ever remembered coming home. He thought about who would be home. He glanced down and didn’t see any of his roommate’s winter boots. Jongho must be sleeping in Yeosang’s room and he vaguely remembered San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Hongjoong mentioning going out with a few of the Stray Kids guys. 

Inside, everything was still. No music. No lights strobing across their faces. Just the soft hum of the heater and the rhythm of two hearts still syncing back to a calmer beat.

Yunho kicked off his shoes and leaned against the door, exhaling deeply. His cheeks were still flushed, eyes bright from the night. Mingi was already slipping off his bomber jacket, running a hand through sweat-damp hair. 

“I think I’m still hearing the bass in my teeth,” he said with a grin.

Yunho chuckled, tugging off his tie. “You were dancing like a man possessed.”

“Possessed by the spirit of bangers,” Mingi said, stepping close. He rested his hands on Yunho’s waist. “You were incredible out there, you know?”

“I was terrified half the time.”

“Didn’t show. You let go. You trusted the moment. That’s everything.”

Yunho’s fingers slid up Mingi’s chest, resting against the mesh of his shirt. “I think I was trusting you, actually.”

Mingi’s smile softened. “Even better.”

Their lips met, slower than before, less adrenaline, more intention. A lingering kiss, filled with all the words they hadn’t said in the crowd.

Yunho pulled him in tighter, fingers tangling in Mingi’s hair. The kiss deepened.

The rave had burned off the surface energy, what remained now was heat, focus, hunger drawn from connection rather than chaos.

Mingi guided them gently toward the couch. They sank into it together, limbs entangled, kisses trailing from lips to jaw to neck.

Yunho whispered, “You’re so different when it’s just us.”

“How?”

“Softer. Realer.”

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “You bring that out in me.”

Yunho cupped his face, thumbs stroking his cheek. “Then I’ll keep doing it.”

Their kisses grew heavier, deeper, hands exploring with growing need, touches slow but unhesitant. Mingi straddled Yunho, pressing close, lips brushing his ear.

“I wanted this all night,” he murmured.

“Me too,” Yunho whispered, pulling him back in.

Neither cared about the chance of getting caught in the living room, the energy between them transformed. No lights. No noise. Just breath and warmth and the quiet kind of fire.

Time slowed down.

And somewhere, long after clothes were shed and hands memorized skin like familiar music, Mingi lay with his head on Yunho’s chest, drawing circles over his ribs.

“Happy New Year,” he said quietly.

Yunho kissed his forehead, eyes half-closed, voice soft. “Yeah… it really is.”

Chapter Text

Hongjoong took the headphones off, sighing gently as he took a long sip from his water bottle. There was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead from the heat being cranked so high in the recording booth. 

“You good?” Wooyoung asked and looked over from the other side of the booth. Hongjoong nodded. 

“Yeah it’s just really fucking hot in here-” Hongjoong grumbled. 

He looked over the lyric sheet on the music stand. They were making good progress but he still wished they had finished the recording for the song last week. Hongjoong was playing the music in his head, lining the lyrics up with the guitar chords his fingers mimicked playing. He was pretty deep in thought when there was a knock on the window, making him jump and curse under his breath. Beside him, Wooyoung laughed loudly as he scrolled through his phone. Hongjoong looked up to see Maddox gesturing for him to put the headphones back on, he did so, looking at him confused. 

“What?” Hongjoong asked, speaking into the mic but looking through the window at his counterpart. 

“Didn’t you say you had to leave at 5?” Maddox asked, lifting his sleeve to check his watch. Hongjoong’s heart sank and he scrambled to find his phone. 

“Shit- yes, I do. What time is it?” Hongjoong asked, finding his phone as Maddox answered. 

“It’s 5:20.” The older one said. Hongjoong cursed even more and ripped the headphones off his head. 

“Sorry, hyung, but I gotta head out-” Hongjoong said as he burst through the door into the studio, quickly finding his backpack and packing his laptop and anything else he could see that belonged to him. 

“It’s good. You usually aren’t like this, big plans?” Maddox asked with a smirk as he leaned back in the chair at the soundboard. Wooyoung walked out of the booth, a wicked smile on his face.

“He’s going on a date .” Wooyoung teased and wiggled his eyebrows. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, throwing his coat on and deadpanned at Maddox. 

“I’m going out with Seonghwa tonight.” He huffed and looked over everything before looking at Wooyoung. 

“You got everything?” Hongjoong asked, his voice serious but calm. 

Wooyoung nodded, his smile somehow growing more. “Yeah, San and I are gonna grab dinner first but it’ll be fine.”

Hongjoong thought over everything for a moment, nodding absentmindedly. “Okay, yeah…” He took a deep breath and refocused his eyes at the two. “Okay I gotta go.” He turned to leave, hand on the door handle when he heard yelling behind him.

“Make sure you take a shower! You stink!” Wooyoung laughed. 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes and headed out, power walking down the hallway to the elevator. After pushing the down button Hongjoong started doing mental math in his head. They had a 6:45 reservation, it took 25 minutes on the subway to get back to the dorms which would be 5:50 and it took 20 minutes to get from the dorms to the restaurant. Which left approximately 30-35 minutes for Hongjoong to get ready. He sighed. Could’ve been worse.

“I can work with that.” He muttered to himself as he stepped into the elevator. 

The ride on the subway seemed to crawl as he got closer and closer to the dorms. Finally, his stop came up and Hongjoong all but jumped out of the car, jogging lightly up the stairs. The cold air took his breath away and Hongjoong pulled his coat tighter around him. He was grateful it hadn’t snowed in the last couple days and the sidewalks weren’t as much of a deathtrap as they were when covered with ice. The dorms came into view and Hongjoong picked up his pace. He needed to shower, do his hair, get dressed and get everything together so they could leave on time and not miss the reservation Hongjoong spent 3 hours on hold to get. He pushed the doors open and flashed a smile to the security guard. 

“Evening Mr. Hongjoong,” He greeted with a warm smile. 

“Hello Mr. Lim.” Hongjoong chuckled and headed to the elevator where he scanned his keycard to take him to their floor. 

As the elevator rose, Hongjoong felt the knots start to form in his stomach but shoved them away. He couldn’t focus on that now. Right now, he needed to focus on not smelling like a sweaty recording studio. The elevator reached his floor and Hongjoong stepped out, jogging down the hallway to the door to his apartment and scanned in. 

He knew he was probably alone. Yeosang was still with Jongho visiting the maknae’s family; unless Wooyoung suddenly learned how to teleport, which would be a nightmare come to life, he wasn’t home; and Mingi very rarely actually spent time in his own room. Hongjoong made a beeline for the bathroom he shared with Yeosang and stepped in and immediately turned the shower on as he stripped off the clothes from the day and chucked them in his hamper in the corner beside the other. He eyed his hamper, seeing the clothes getting a bit high and made a mental note to do laundry this weekend. 

He showered as quickly as he could, making sure to wash off the sweat that clung to him. Hongjoong ran a hand over his cheeks, they were slightly rough but he could get away without shaving. After his shower Hongjoong ran a towel through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. 

“Damn my hair is getting long,” He grumbled, running his fingers through the dark strands that settled at the base of his neck. A haircut would be in his future, eventually.

Hongjoong quickly dried his hair, getting the majority of the wet out before he started styling it. He went with a simple look, slicked back on the side and a bit floppy on top. The wind would probably do a good number to any serious attempt at styling anyway. Hongjoong wrapped a towel around his waist, deciding not to streak through the apartment in case one of his friends came in through the adjoining door. He had his outfit already chosen and changed, a crisp white button up, black sweater, white slacks, loafers, scarf and his black long coat. Nothing too fancy, but enough to make him feel good. Hongjoong glanced at the time on his phone as he put on his jewelry. 6:18. He had a few minutes to spare as he double checked everything. Phone, wallet, keys, he padded his coat pocket and nodded. Everything. Good. 

Hongjoong headed into the living room and opened the door into the other apartment. He was greeted by Yunho typing away on his laptop at the kitchen table. The furious typing paused and he looked up, eyebrows raised. 

“Well you’re dressed up.” Yunho said with a smirk. 

“Do I look okay?” Hongjoong asked, feeling a bit self conscious of his outfit choice. 

Yunho’s smart ass smirk melted off his face and was replaced by his puppy smile. “You look good, hyung.”

Hongjoong nodded, smiling lightly. “Thanks.” He said and headed towards Seonghwa’s room. Hongjoong could hear faint music coming from behind Seonghwa’s door and he smiled slightly and knocked.

“One second!” Seonghwa called. Hongjoong took a step back and leaned against the wall, hoping San didn’t open his door or he was going to fall. It took a few minutes, but the music stopped and Seonghwa finally opened the door. 

Hongjoong felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at Seonghwa. His hair was silver, waved slightly and framed his face perfectly. He wore a black velvety shirt that had a bow draped in the front, a black blazer draped over his shoulders and black slacks. Seonghwa looked up from his phone, a big smile spreading across his face.

“Oh you’re already here. I thought you were Yunho, I was just about to call you.” Seonghwa said, looking Hongjoong’s outfit over. Hongjoong was still processing how amazing Seonghwa looked and he nodded.

“Yeah, I was running late and got dressed quickly. You look-” Hongjoong started and Seonghwa sighed. 

“Is it too much? I thought the shirt was too much.” Seonghwa said, fussing with the details of his shirt. Hongjoong took a step forward, shaking his head and resting a hand on his waist. 

“You look beautiful,” Hongjoong said quietly, his tone genuine. He watched Seonghwa blush and look away, nodding. 

“Stop it, before I turn into a tomato. We should go though, in case there’s traffic. Do you want to get an uber?” Seonghwa asked, putting his bag over his shoulder.  

Hongjoong shook his head, slipping his hand into Seonghwa’s as they walked towards the main door. “No, I have my keys, my car is in the parking garage. I’ll drive us.” He smiled. Seonghwa nodded.

“Don’t do anything stupid, I don't feel like having to bail anyone out of jail tonight.” Yunho said, not even looking up from his computer. Seonghwa laughed but Hongjoong just shook his head as the two made their way out. Thankfully, the parking garage was attached to the dorm building so the couple wasn’t subjected to the brutal late December air. 

“How was your day?” Seonghwa asked as he slid into the passenger seat. Hongjoong turned the car over, letting it warm up. 

“It was good, we got some work done on the newest song.” Hongjoong said with a sigh.

“For the single?” Seonghwa asked. Hongjoong nodded. 

“It’s going well, but I don’t know why this one has been so much… different from the others.” Hongjoong said and looked over. Seonghwa stayed quiet for a moment as he thought. 

“Well, this is a song you two just threw together when we were in Santa Monica and decided to play it on stage. It’s deeper, has some more meaning and memories behind it than some of your more recent stuff.” Seonghwa said, looking over at him. Hongjoong nodded shallowly, getting lost in the dark endless void of Seonghwa’s eyes for a moment when he heard the RMPs level out on his car and let out a small breath. 

“Joong, are you okay? If you aren’t feeling well, we can go out another night.” Seonghwa said, his voice now full of concern as he looked at Hongjoong. Seonghwa could tell something was up, but not exactly it was. 

Hongjoong shook his head, “No, we’ve been looking forward to this dinner for a while. You and I have been so busy I feel like we see each other in the morning, at dinner and go to bed. That's been it the last couple weeks.” Hongjoong reached out and rested his hand on Seonghwa’s thigh, squeezing it gently. “I miss you.”

Hongjoong watched Seonghwa’s eyes get glossy slightly and the older one nodded. “I agree, but with this last comeback… fashion week soon…your ongoing project that drops soon… and the single… and everything else we’ve been dealing with. It’s been a lot. But we’re coming into a little bit of a slow period before we leave, which is exactly two weeks from now. We’ll have more time for each other.” Seonghwa said, sliding his hand over Hongjoong’s. 

Hongjoong sighed, feeling a bit of relief that Seonghwa wasn’t upset or disappointed, that was the last thing he needed tonight. “We should head out, don’t want to miss our reservation.” He said, flashing Seonghwa a smile. 

The drive to the restaurant wasn’t bad, quiet and relaxing after the craziness that had been the last few days. The steady hum of the car and the fabric of Seonghwa’s slacks under his hand steadied the nervousness that continued to grow in his stomach the closer they got to the restaurant. 

Parking took longer than Hongjoong had hoped it would and the couple was walking into the restaurant exactly at their reservation time. Hongjoong huffed gently, but nonetheless he was glad they were there. 

The restaurant was sleek and modern, minimalistic but elegant. The style of the restaurant was exactly the style Seonghwa loved. Hongjoong and Seonghwa sat side by side at the counter, their coats draped over the backs of their chairs, sleeves steaming faintly as they thawed. The chef moved in quiet, deliberate motions, placing each piece of fish like it was a work of art. The room smelled of rice vinegar and grilled eel, and somewhere beneath that, the delicate salt of the sea.

Seonghwa leaned forward as the chef presented the first course, a translucent slice of hirame garnished with a dab of yuzu kosho. “Look at that,” he murmured, impressed. “Feels like we’re about to eat snow.”

Hongjoong smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He responded with a soft hum, eyes flicking toward Seonghwa for a beat too long, before turning back to the food.

He was trying. Trying to be present. To savor the meal like he always did when they went somewhere special. But his thoughts were too loud. Every course that arrived was another reminder of what was waiting just after. His mouth was dry. His heartbeat ticked at an offbeat rhythm. Even the warm sake didn’t help.

Seonghwa, of course, was completely at ease. He was sipping sake, smiling at the chef’s careful technique, making the occasional joke just to see Hongjoong smile, which Hongjoong tried to do, but it felt tight around the edges.

“Everything okay?” Seonghwa asked quietly after a few courses, giving Hongjoong a nudge with his elbow.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong said quickly. Too quickly. “Just… taking it all in.”

Seonghwa tilted his head, unconvinced but not pushing it. He went back to admiring a piece of lightly torched kinmedai as the chef placed it delicately in front of them. Hongjoong stared at his own slice a beat too long before finally eating it, barely tasting it through the thrum of nerves.

“Still with me?” Seonghwa asked after Hongjoong zoned out during a short explanation from the chef.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just thinking.” He managed a smile, softer this time. Realer. “You look happy.”

“I am happy,” Seonghwa said. “This is the best. Honestly, you did too much.”

Hongjoong looked at him then, really looked, and felt his chest tighten, but not in a bad way. Seonghwa’s eyes were warm, his cheeks slightly flushed from the sake. He looked safe. Familiar. Like home.

The final course came and went, a scoop of black sesame ice cream with a crisp, buttery tuile, and before Hongjoong knew it, they were shrugging back into their coats, the night waiting for them outside.

“Let’s head to the park, it looked really pretty when we drove by,” Hongjoong suggested, his pulse quickening as he laced their fingers together. Seonghwa nodded and the pair headed towards the glimmering park in the distance.

Hongjoong took a quiet deep breath as they sat on the bench and looked out over the river. The park was beautiful. Snow clung to the branches of the trees and warm white Christmas lights were wrapped around the trunks and woven through the branches. It was peaceful, intimate. It was perfect. Hongjoong fumbled with his pockets for a moment, trying to stop his hands from shaking. He looked at Seonghwa, who was distracted by the view over the river and everything seemed to stop. 

Hongjoong didn’t think he’d make it past 20, let alone to 26. He thought was going to be alone forever, cast aside and only used when the company needed him for Wooyoung. How wrong his younger self was. He couldn’t be grateful, more indebted to anyone in the world than he was to Seonghwa. The man who stood by him during anything, supported his adventures, new projects and tolerated Hongjoong’s obnoxious sleep schedule. His person. The one person in the world who knew him better than he knew himself at times. Hongjoong thought back to around the time the two had started casually seeing each other. They had been best friends for a year and a half at that point, and crossed a line most friends wouldn’t dare to even look at.

Hongjoong ran his hands gently through Seonghwa’s hair. It was soft, a dusty light brown and shaved close on the sides. They were tangled together in Hongjoong’s bed, the only thing either of them had on was the comforter, sealing in their body heat and creating a warm cocoon Hongjoong never wanted to leave. 

“Do you want dinner soon?” Seonghwa asked, breaking the silence between them. Hongjoong looked at him, unable to hide the feelings that were building in his chest from showing on his face. 

“You don’t have to cook, it’s okay.” Hongjoong said, running his hand through Seonghwa’s hair again. Seonghwa pouted, which made Hongjoong laugh. 

“I want to cook for you,” Seonghwa said, looking up at him with dark endless eyes Hongjoong could get lost in. 

“Why?” Hongjoong asked before he realized he was asking. 

“You take care of everyone else, make sure they eat, that Yunho doesn’t spend his nights in his office, that Woo takes his meds, that Yeosang stands his ground to the creative team, that Jongho is taken seriously despite his age, that I don’t throw my sewing machine out the window and so many other things.” Seonghwa shifted, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Hongjoong. “You take care of everyone else. Let me take care of you, Joong.”

That was the day Hongjoong knew he had fallen for Seonghwa, and fallen bad. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Seonghwa shift beside him and glance over.

Tiny flakes of snow drifted lazily from the sky, dusting the tree branches in a layer of white, like powdered sugar on a cake. Fairy lights strung between the bare trees cast a golden glow over the snow-covered path.

Hongjoong nodded, tightening the scarf around his neck with gloved fingers. His voice caught in his throat, choked with nerves and something deeper, love so big it felt like it couldn’t be contained in his chest. He inhaled through his nose, the winter air crisp and sharp, and turned to face Seonghwa.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said, trying, and failing, not to sound like his heart was pounding out of his chest. His voice trembled despite the layers keeping him warm. Seonghwa looked at him, cheeks already tinged pink from the cold, though now a darker shade crept in. His eyes softened, and he smiled, a quiet, knowing smile that made Hongjoong’s knees wobble.

“You are the other half of me,” he continued, snowflakes catching in his hair, “the part I didn’t know was missing. I can’t imagine life without you. I love you more than anything…”

Hongjoong dropped to one knee in the snow, not even caring that his pants were going to be soaked, and pulled a small, midnight-blue velvet box from his coat pocket. His gloved fingers were trembling, but he managed to open the box to reveal a gleaming ring inside. Even under the soft light, it sparkled like a star.

“Park Seonghwa,” he said, looking up at him with a vulnerable kind of courage, “will you marry me?”

For the briefest moment, the whole world seemed to pause. The only sound was the faint whisper of wind through the trees and the rhythmic crunch of far-off footsteps on snow. Then Seonghwa’s lips parted in a breathy gasp as tears welled in his eyes. He dropped down to his knees in front of Hongjoong, his gloved hands shaking as he reached forward.

“Yes,” he whispered with a watery laugh, brushing away the tears that clung to his lashes. “Yes, I will. On one condition.”

Hongjoong blinked, startled. “A condition?” He croaked out, suddenly terrified.

Seonghwa grinned through the tears, his cheeks flushed from both the cold and the emotion. “Only if you’ll marry me,” he said, and pulled out a deep red box from the inside pocket of his wool coat. His hands trembled as he opened it to reveal a second ring, resting on black velvet.

Hongjoong’s breath caught. He stared at the ring, then back at Seonghwa. His brain short-circuited.

“You were gonna propose too? Tonight?” he asked, his voice cracking, winded by the moment.

“I was getting impatient,” Seonghwa admitted, with a sheepish smile. His laugh was light but full of love. “I figured if you didn’t do it soon, I’d beat you to it.”

Hongjoong let out a weak laugh, still stunned, as he picked up the ring for Seonghwa. Carefully, helped the older one take off his gloves and slid it onto Seonghwa’s finger. The metal was cold against his skin, but it warmed quickly from the touch. The radiant cut diamond glinted, framed by elegant baguettes, glowed softly in the park lights against Seonghwa’s tan skin and the pale snow dusting his gloves.

Seonghwa’s hands were shaking a little as he picked up the other ring and slid it onto Hongjoong’s finger. It was a silver signet-style ring, a hexagonal stone fitted flush to the setting, sleek, understated, and uniquely him.

“Perfect fit,” he whispered.

Hongjoong looked down at it, then up at Seonghwa. “Thank you,” he said, barely above a whisper, his voice cracking slightly.

They leaned into each other, lips brushing together in a kiss that felt like the first and the last all at once, slow, warm, and unhurried. Neither of them cared about the cold or being in publi anymore.

When they finally pulled apart, Hongjoong leaned in again to kiss Seonghwa’s cheek. He lingered there, eyes closed, breathing him in, vanilla, snow, and something distinctly Seonghwa.

“So this was why you were so on edge today?” Seonghwa asked, laughing as he wiped away another stray tear, breath still visible in the freezing air.

Hongjoong nodded, grinning. “I thought I was gonna pass out.”

Before Seonghwa could respond, a sudden shriek echoed across the park.

They turned just in time to see Wooyoung bounding toward them like a chaotic ball of holiday spirit, scarf flapping behind him and boots kicking up snow. San followed a few paces behind, hands in his coat pockets and a smug smile on his face.

“You both proposed?” Wooyoung cried, “This is better than a Christmas movie!”

Hongjoong laughed, cheeks flushed with emotion and the cold, as Seonghwa leaned against him, fingers laced tightly together.

“Mom and Dad are getting married!” He giggled behind his mask, tugging both of his hyungs into a tight hug. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and laughed. 

“Wooyoung,” San said, finally catching up, “Let them breathe.”

Wooyoung sighed and let the two men go, seemingly bouncing on his feet with excitement.

“You planned planned this? Wait-” Seonghwa looked at Wooyoung, seeing his camera slung around his neck and laughed. “What, did you hide in a bush?”

Mock offense flashed across Wooyoung’s face. “A bush? Excuse you, I am better than hiding in a bush to take pictures. I can be sneaky!” 

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows and reached up to pull something out of Wooyoung’s hair. “The foliage in your hair says otherwise, Woo.”

San walked closer, putting his hand out to shake. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and pulled the younger one into a hug. “Congratulations, hyungs.” San said and looked at the two of them. 

Wooyoung was radiating energy as he looked at his friends. “I’m so happy for you guys!” He smiled. “But we’re gonna head back, I’m fucking freezing, I’ll edit some pictures tonight. We gotta run to the store quick.” 

The group said their goodbyes and soon it was just the two of them again. Hongjoong looked to Seonghwa, extending his hand. “Wanna go home?” 

Seonghwa nodded, slipping their hands together. “Let’s go home.”

Hongjoong hung his coat up at the door, kicked off his and glanced down at his hand, unable to stop his smile from forming. He had thanked Seonghwa a hundred times in the car and noticed the older one couldn’t stop looking at his ring either. It was surreal. Hongjoong felt a slight tug on his other hand and looked up to see Seonghwa pulling him towards him. Seonghwa kissed him, draping his long arms around Hongjoong’s neck. Hongjoong immediately kissed him back and smiled, holding on Seonghwa’s slim waist tightly. The kiss was heated instantly and Hongjoong smirked as they pulled back, slightly out of breath.

“You should message Woo…” Seonghwa looked at him and Hongjoong could see the fire dancing in his eyes, “Tell him to sleep in San’s room tonight.”

The lopsided grin grew on Hongjoong’s face. “Yeah?”

Seonghwa tugged at his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom, a mischievous grin on his face as he bit his lip. “Yeah.”