Chapter Text
“It’s been a while since we’ve all been here-” Changbin says as he moves around the glasses and cups on the side of the counter where jugs of mulled wine and cider sit, “but I guess it is time that we all spend Christmas together.”
Seungmin simply nods, stacking cookies on a platter to make a pine tree; he hopes that his silence does not betray his nerves. He isn’t sure why he’s nervous- he is, he just doesn't want to admit it even to himself- but it’s ridiculous. They’ve all pretty much grown up together- the eight of them, despite the fact that some of them are not even of the same age; they’ve played in the same sand lots and celebrated every birthday at that one restaurant owned by an elderly couple down the block. They know how each one of them got their scars- from scraped knees and fistfights that they don’t even remember were about- and slept over so often at each other’s places that Seungmin still knows where Felix keeps his collection of taekwondo belts and medals and the One Direction posters that he had begged his parents to get him as a birthday gift when he’d been thirteen.
Felix- his best friend, and the boy Seungmin hasn’t seen in nearly three years. They’ve called and texted, of course, but it’s not the same as being able to hit him across the back of his head when he’s being extra dumb.
“Jisung and Hyunjin should be here any minute now-” Jeongin says, saving Seungmin from the next thought that barges into his mind so often, no matter how much he’s tried not to think of him in the last couple of years, “good god, I really can’t believe how long it’s been.”
Jeongin, Changbin and Seungmin’s younger brother and the youngest of the lot amongst their group of eight, is closest to Jisung. Only a few months apart, they’d grown up pretty much attached at the hip. Looking at how excited he is, cheeks dimpled with a grin that has not left his face since finding out that everyone’s gonna be in town for Christmas this year- especially Jisung- Seungmin can only imagine how much they’ve missed each other. Just as he’s about to ask if Jisung will stay the night, the doorbell rings and Jeongin bounds out of the kitchen as if they’re still teenagers and not well into their twenties.
Jisung appears first, followed by Hyunjin who seems even more distracted than usual. His eyes scan the room and Seungmin feels a pang go through his chest, knowing full well who Hyunjin is looking for; his eyes have searched every room he’s entered in the last three years this exact way, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who’s already left.
“My man!-” Jisung collides with Jeongin, both of them crushing each other in a hug as the rest of them smile and wave at one another; Jisung’s been in London for the last three years and it’s his first time being home for the holidays since. He doesn’t look all that different, yet he is. His English has gotten more accented, his dark hair longer and shoulders broader. He looks grown up, despite his unchanging boyish charm.
“How’ve you been?” Seungmin asks Hyunjin as Jisung moves on to do a ridiculously elaborate handshake with Changbin; Jeongin’s still beaming, as if Christmas is already here and not a week away still.
“Since yesterday, when we grabbed lunch together?” Hyunjin replies, rolling his eyes and chuckling, “great.”
“Well, he has arrived in town since yesterday’s lunch so-” Seungmin says, guilty that he’s using a topic so wholly personal for Hyunjin to avoid his own thoughts that keep trying to creep up to the forefront of his mind.
It’s useless though, because the doorbell rings once again and the simple tinkling feels like an orchestra playing a death march for Seungmin; he cannot for the life of him fathom why he’s acting like a school boy with a crush. It’s been years, they’ve both grown up. The end.
But it doesn’t feel like the end when the door opens and in comes Felix, trailed by a person that has starred so often in Seungmin’s most idle daydreams since he was a teenager. It’s like there had been a cardboard box full of those frivolous feelings that he had taped shut, all the stupid hopes he’d had about one day holding Felix’s older brother’s hand, but now he’s here and the box simply breaks open within Seungmin.
Chan looks different but somehow exactly like what Seungmin imagined he’d grow up to look like; he’s older by three years but Chan is an inch or two shorter than him. He’s broad shouldered too and the way his dark turtleneck stretches over his chest underneath his untied coat, Seungmin can tell that he likely spends a fuck lot of time in the gym. His hair’s still dark and slightly curling despite the frigid weather, falling in wisps over his eyes that crinkle with warmth as he smiles at everyone in the kitchen. It’s his lips that Seungmin’s mind chooses to fixate on- how full they are, how utterly soft they look- and how Seungmin’s never been able to kiss anyone without wondering what it would be like to lock lips with Chan, his best friend’s older brother.
“Hello, Seungie~” Chan says, catching Seungmin’s attention like he hasn’t had it for almost a decade now, “how’ve you been?”
A blush tints Seungmin’s face and he knows he must look so damn stupid, with his averted gaze and flushed cheeks but Chan simply continues to smile at him.
Oh dear god, he’s so fucked .
“So I guess you still have a big fat crush on-” Seungmin flicks Felix’s forehead before he can say whatever he’s about to say; oh, he’s been practically itching to do that to his best friend for years now.
“Shut it-” Seungmin snaps under his breath as he stands by the fireplace with Felix, sipping on some cider, “or else I am going to start asking questions about why you and Hyunjin have barely said two words to each other when you two used-”
“Okay okay, I get it.” Felix whisper yells after violently elbowing Seungmin in the ribs, eyes darting towards Hyunjin who looks rather outrageously stunning in the lowlight of the room at the far end, “I will keep-”
“Why are you trying to give him bruised ribs?” Chan asks, drifting towards Seungmin and his brother with a glass of wine in his hand; Seungmin genuinely feels like he can’t look at Chan, not with him so close that it would only take him raising his hand to brush away the strands of hair over his eyes.
“So you can heal him up real nice-” Felix says, before nearly zooming off to diffuse the tension that’s settled over the kitchen ever since Minho walked in with home-cooked lasagna and a bottle of rum. Maybe this is what happens when you love someone so much that not even putting entire continents and oceans between each other isn’t enough to escape it; he really does hope that these complications are untangled by the end of the holidays, because a desperate part of Seungmin does not want these ties to be entirely cut off, not when they’ve spent their whole lives forging them.
Looking up, he expects Chan to be confused about what Felix just said- the meaning really isn’t lost on Seungmin, even though he wishes it was- but he truly doesn’t know how to decipher the gleam in Chan’s eyes as he looks at him, as if he’s trying to figure out what Seungmin’s made of Felix’s comment.
The silence stretches between them, interrupted by the soft cackling of the fire and the low murmur of their friends chatting in the background. It isn’t awkward nor is it strained; it is simply that the space between them feels heavy, like there are layers to it that they’ve yet to peel back. Seungmin frowns, looking down at his almost empty glass of cider because he is confused; things used to be easier between him and Chan because it mostly entailed cracking stupid jokes, Chan hugging him out of nowhere while his heart thumped away unevenly in his chest and singing duets whenever they all went to karaoke bars. But now-
“Shorter hair suits you-” Chan says out of nowhere, voice so soft that Seungmin has to look up to confirm he’s actually said anything, “I always knew it would.”
Chan reaches out almost absentmindedly, as if he’s not even fully aware of his limb moving, and brushes the short strands of hair on Seungmin’s forehead; it lights him on fire like he’s a sky ablaze with fireworks, blood rushing to his ears till it’s all he can hear. Seungmin wonders if Chan can tell what he does to him, what he’s always done to him.
Seungmin’s been with a couple of people since college- boys and girls, both- but no one’s ever held his attention for more than a couple of weeks; it’s not that they’re not interesting enough or that he gets bored of things easily. It’s really not that; it’s just that every time that he’s kissed them, or done much more than that even, he’s always come back home disappointed. It all feels nice in the heat of the moment but not… it’s never felt the way it feels right now, even after all this time, simply standing too close to Chan while six other people loiter in the background. It’s not the least bit private yet the way Chan’s fingers brush against his forehead feels absolutely intimate.
“Yo-” Changbin calls out to Seungmin, making him pull away from Chan like the moment in itself is something that’s not for anyone else to see, “do you think you and Jeonnie can put up the Christmas lights outside tomorrow? Mom’s been upset about the house not having enough decor.”
“But Jisung and I are going to the record store tomorrow-” Jeongin says, sending a pleading look towards Seungmin,”maybe Felix can help?”
“I am actually going to the cat cafe tomorrow with Minho-” Felix says sheepishly, “we want to drop off some food and clothes for the cats.”
Seungmin’s about to say that he and Hyunjin can manage- fuck any other plans the latter might have- when Chan speaks up. Seungmin’s eyes snap back to him, gritting his teeth because what the fuck .
“I’ll help-” Chan says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal but his eyes never leave Seungmin’s face even though it’s actually Changbin that he’s speaking to, “maybe doing some work will tire me out enough to help with jetlag.”
His logic is solid, Seungmin knows that but fuck him. He’s already buried six feet under with all his feelings surging up to the surface after five years of carefully boxing them up but now, with Chan’s eyes on him and his own heart flipping over in his chest, Seungmin feels like he’s just digging his grave deeper.
When Seungmin wakes up, he finds Jisung and Jeongin arguing over who gets to shower first; even though their voices have deepened and they’re no longer two lanky boys who might get blown away by a strong enough wind, they sound just like they did when they were nine and ten. Seungmin smiles at the familiarity of it, even though their bickering woke him up and well, Jisung has his own house just down the road and can always go back there to freshen up.
“You two-” Seungmin begins, opening his door and padding out into the corridor in an oversized sweatshirt.
“Sorry!” they both say in unison, pulling out yet another smile out of Seungmin because yeah, being around each other feels like being a time capsule for them.
As Seungmin sits down to have breakfast, letting the steam from his rice bowl and soup warm his face, he sees Felix’s furious text and grins. He really shouldn’t but he can’t help it; it’s inevitable that something’s finally gonna give between Hyunjin and Felix this holiday, for better or for worse.
“You know, the cat cafe’s right by the record store-” Jeongin says, him and Jisung joining Seungmin at the table, “we can meet Lix and Minho there.”
Jisung levels him with a stare that would look far more threatening if he did not have a mouth full of rice; Jeongin snickers, knowing full well that Jisung’s reaction is warranted. They have no clue what happened in London between him and Minho but all they can tell is that they’ve tried to run away from everything in their lives- even their hometown and own families- in attempt to stay away and yet , when they’re in a room- fucking hell.
They drop the topic altogether and proceed to exchange stories that they’ve missed out on over the last few years, like how Jeongin once got so drunk that he threw up in the convenience store when they stopped by to get some hangover drinks on their way home or how Jisung discovered his favorite spot for Asian food in London on a complete fluke. They talk about Seungmin’s braces coming out and how he accidentally spilled coffee on his professor on the very first day of college. As they sit and talk, filling each other in on all the things that they’ve missed, Seungmin realises that no matter how long it’s been, the gaps between them will always shrink when they’re in the same room.
Soon after breakfast, Jeongin and Jisung leave and Seungmin heads to shower and then bring out the Christmas lights from the basement. Looking outside, he sees the snow settled over the ground; the world truly does look white, glowing under the mellow winter sun. Despite how inconvenient the snow makes everyone’s lives, he loves the look of it; maybe it brings out the nostalgia of childhood, of his parents pretending to be Santa Claus and leaving them presents under the tree, of snowball fights and snowmen with devious grins- courtesy of Jisung and Hyunjin- and feline ones made by Minho and Felix.
Seungmin’s suddenly reminded of the red woolen scarf that he has tucked away somewhere in his closet; Chan had wrapped it around a particularly large snowman they’d all built together and when winter had given away to spring, the white turning into sludge, Seungmin had taken the scarf with him when Chan never asked about it again. A furious blush rises up to his cheeks because really, he’s always been so painfully obvious about his crush on his best friend’s older brother- how had the entire world not known about it?
As if summoned by the very memory, Chan appears with two cups of coffee right on time. He’s hardly ever late, a quality that Seungmin wishes he did not find half as attractive as he does. Sighing, because he’s so fucking done with himself, he lets Chan in and lets him help with carrying the boxes outside. Seungmin adores his mother, he really does, but he hates her christmas spirit at the moment because it’s gonna take a while to string up all the lights in the boxes.
It’s freezing outside but thankfully, there’s no wind. Chan insists on being the one who gets up to hang up the lights but Seungmin won’t allow it; he’s the one who’s supposed to do it. Chan is just here to help. It’s not long before Seungmin comes to regret it though because firstly, Chan is a talker. He’s not really a nervous chatterbox like Jisung, who will start word-vomiting the moment his anxiety gets the best of him. No, Chan just likes talking, filling the silence with curious questions and laughter. He asks about Seungmin’s college experience and now, about his job as a pianist who gives private lessons. Secondly, his hands . His goddamn hands are constantly on Seungmin. Chan touches his legs lightly whenever the ladder wobbles a little, his hands coming to circle Seungmin’s waist every time he starts climbing down the ladder, as if falling from a height of four feet might be fatal for Seungmin.
The afternoon sun is high up in the sky, turning the weather a little more bearable when Seungmin’s finally done; just as he reaches almost the end of the ladder, his eye catches something mid-motion. He thinks it might be a bulb that’s come loose; it turns out to be just a bird though, but by then he’s lost his footing and well- God hates him. He falls right against Chan and bless all the hours he spends at the gym, because he doesn’t so much as budge when Seungmin staggers onto him with his entire weight. Chan’s hands come up to catch him, accidentally sliding underneath the jacket and sweatshirt that he has on as they try to get their footing right.
Seungmin genuinely feels like he’s been burned, like someone has taken a torch to his skin and then iced over the burns all in the span of thirty seconds. Chan’s hands are so familiar to him- he’s held them countless times in his life- but they’re wholly unfair wrapped around his waist, without a single stitch of clothing separating their skins. It’s really not an intimate moment- far from it, given that this has resulted from Chan stopping Seungmin from having a broken nose a week before Christmas- but it’s Chan .
It’s Chan and he’s touching Seungmin, his nose brushing the back of Seungmin’s ear as he tries to steady them. Seungmin needs to put some space between them or else he might burst into flames right here and now, consumed by his own desire for someone who’s always been so out of his reach yet is holding him by the waist now.
Seungmin mumbles a ‘thank you’ and stalks back inside, taking big breaths to calm himself down. Chan follows him inside, lugging the empty boxes with him; the sight of it makes Seungmin melt a little because it doesn’t matter where they are and who they’ve become, no one is as kind as Chan. No one can be. He’s the same boy who threw punches at some kids in school for calling Changbin short, the kid who went abroad and spent his saved up money to buy expensive painting kits for Hyunjin at the tender age of thirteen, the same one who accompanied Jisung to his therapist’s appointment when they lived here, the same boy who played baseball with Seungmin even though he was rather shit at it and helped him learn the guitar for years.
As Seungmin conks up the heating in the house and starts plating up some late lunch for them, a realization creeps up on him so quietly that he’s a little startled by it when it’s right in his face. As much as Seungmin’s wanted Chan, he’s never quite been truly hateful or jealous of the people who’ve had the latter’s attention; he’s been envious sure, and petty with desire he had no idea how to deal with- he still doesn’t- but he’s never been resentful. Because he gets it, okay? He gets why someone would fall head over heels for Chan, he really does. Out of the two brothers, everyone always calls Felix the sun because of how dazzling and warm he is but to Seungmin, it’s actually Chan who lights up any room that he walks into. It isn’t because he’s so bright; he’s simply like a hearth that is constantly lit, casting a glow over everyone and everything.
“Seungie-” Chan calls out to him, bringing Seungmin back into the present as he sets down two bowls of rice on the table, “do you think we’re old enough to be day drinking?”
“You’ve been old enough to day drink for a while now, hyung. You’re ancient-” Seungmin laughs when Chan sends him a playful glare, “but yeah, definitely old enough for a glass or two during lunch. Plus, it’s Christmas.”
Chan nods, as if all kinds of gluttony becomes okay when the holidays roll around; in all fairness, Seungmin has been gorging on Chan’s presence since last night, drinking in his fill till the next year comes and they’re all scattered around the world once again. It’s a sobering thought and he pushes it away, not wanting to deal with it at the moment because it occurs to him only now that it’s just going to be him and Chan for lunch.
How long has it been since they’ve done this?
Five years, to be exact.
“Hyunjin’s throwing this year’s Christmas party?” Chan asks as he reheats some barbecued beef.
“Yeah, he’s got the biggest place out of all of us. If we’re too drunk to come back home, there’s always space to just crash there. His house has so many damn rooms and for what-”
“Are you taking someone to the party?” Chan asks out of nowhere, essentially not only cutting off Seungmin’s rant about how much real estate Hyunjin has but also his air supply.
Is Chan really asking if he’s taking a fucking date ?
“Uh-” Seungmin really isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say, simply because he feels so blindsided by the question, “I didn’t know we were supposed to bring dates.”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to-” Chan says, getting out a half empty bottle of wine as Seungmin stands uselessly in his own kitchen, “Maybe I am just asking if you have someone to bring as a date, Seungie-”
Seungmin’s first instinct is to ask why Chan even cares but realises that it’s not gonna come out curious or playful but simply rude. He swallows, mouth incredibly dry out of nowhere so he goes to fill up a glass of water.
“I don’t have anyone that I would bring as a date.” Seungmin almost flings the sentence out into the air, unwilling to think about it more. It’s Chan’s turn to deal with it, even though he isn’t entirely unsure what this ‘it’ even is.
“That’s rather strange, don’t you think?” Chan muses, half a smile on his face as he comes up to fill up his own glass of water, “A pretty boy like you must have someone.”
“Well, I don’t-” Seungmin states, so dumbfounded by the way Chan’s just called him ‘pretty’ that he is sure that his brain just malfunctioned a little.
“That's a real shame.” Chan says softly, bumping his nose against Seungmin in a flurry of movement before making his way to the table laden with food. Seungmin is stunned, unable to move from his spot because what the fuck? The last time Chan bumped noses with him was… he doesn’t quite remember. He was probably eight years old, sobbing about a torn baseball glove.
Before Seungmin has to actually process what just happened, Changbin comes home and that fleeting moment of something- Seungmin truly does not have a word for it- is lost.
“You know, it’s slightly weird-” Minho says, taking a long sip of his chai bubble tea, “how codependent we all truly are.”
“What do you mean?” Chan asks, stirring to mix the caramel coating the glass of his frappe.
“I mean, the eight of us-” Minho vaguely gestures towards Seungmin, Felix and Jisung ordering desserts at the counter; Changbin and Jeongin accompany Hyunjin as he hangs by the glass window overlooking the street outside, clicking photos of the festive decorations adorning every shop and restaurant. Even though there’s a flurry of snow outside, the wind unbelievably cold, everyone in town seems to be out and about. But in everyone’s defence, Christmas is only three days away.
“We did grow up together-” Chan offers, unable to take his eyes off of Seungmin as a guy approaches him, shy but attractive. He seems to know Seungmin, even though Chan does not remember ever seeing him around as kids. Maybe he’s moved here? It really shouldn’t matter because it’s none of his goddamn business but he can’t stop looking at them together, Seungmin’s profile sharp and smooth like polished glass in the morning sun.
Seungmin’s always been pretty, contrary to what Seungmin himself might think. It’s the kind where he does not really stand out the way his brother or Minho or Hunjin does but once someone looks at that face, Chan can’t fathom how anyone will ever look away. He sure as shit hasn’t been able to. It’s been years now and he can’t stop thinking of the way Seungmin had looked at him, tipsy and sad, the night before Chan’s flight to Australia- dark eyes like pools of water reflecting the stars above, lips pulled down with words that neither of them had been able to say.
“Sure-” Minho says, tapping a rhythm on the table with his fingers,”but we also grew up with hundreds of other kids in school, many of whom even lived in the same neighbourhood. We don’t feel like pieces of us are missing just because we haven’t seen them in years-”
The guy that’s approached Seungmin lays his arms on his arm, clearly flirting; a flare of irritation goes through Chan because for fuck’s sake, it’s ten in the morning- who the fuck makes moves on someone at this hour of the day?
“For instance, I wouldn’t look at someone the way you’re looking at that poor dude if they tried to flirt with someone who just sat beside me in history class, you know what I mean?” Minho muses, biting back a grin as Chan glares at him.
He’s been keeping an eye on Seungmin out of some old instinct to protect, not possessiveness ; it’s ridiculous, he knows, because Seungmin is in his mid-twenties and has no need for Chan’s protection. They’re just grabbing breakfast for Christ’s sake.
“Is that the same way you’d look at someone trying to flirt with Jisung?” Chan asks, not even remotely guilty for playing dirty if it means that Minho will stop insinuating things; it’s not like he particularly wants to hide the fact that he has always had an inexplicable soft spot for Seungmin- Minho and Felix have known for years, to be honest- but he still doesn’t like talking about it, not when he can’t really do anything about these flares of feelings that he has around Seungmin.
He’d hoped that five years of being in two different continents with minimal contact would diminish that frail yet tenacious connection that they have, but sitting in this cafe and feeling absolutely fucking awful about some random dude flirting with Seungmin, he knows that whatever they have shared- this unknown, unspoken thing- goes bone-deep.
It’s not that Chan does not like being home, of course he does . Some of his favorite people in the world- his chosen family, if he’s being too sentimental about it- are here; but so is the boy that he’s wanted forever, and has always known that he can’t have.
Unless.
Chan has never crossed a line with Seungmin, never spoken about his feelings, because three years of gap in age had felt like he was broaching a subject best left unaddressed. But Seungmin’s twenty-four now and not that he really wants to find out, Chan’s sure that Seungmin’s dated someone older than him in the last couple of years.
So really, what’s stopping him?
“You know you’re going to end up going-” Seungmin says, sitting on the floor of Felix’s bedroom in a dark green tweed jacket, a white dress shirt and black pants. It’s very unusual for him to give a shit about what he’s wearing- even to a Christmas party- but he supposes that this year really is special, what with all of them back home together.
It definitely has nothing to do with Felix’s older brother getting ready in the next room, soft jazz slipping out of the gap at the bottom of his door.
‘Yeah, man. You’re not going to miss Hyunjin’s damn party even though you guys have said like five words to each other since you’ve come back-” Jeongin chimes in, lying on his stomach beside him in a baby blue bomber jacket and white pants, scrolling through his phone. Jisung is somewhere downstairs, chatting with Chan and Felix’s parents while simultaneously drinking as much wine as he can; he’s not a big drinker but guess everyone needs some liquid courage to get through the holidays with one’s ex-whatever Minho is to Jisung.
“Fine, I’ll go-” Felix grumbles, slipping on a very pretty black pussybow shirt and flared pants that does wonders for his hips. Poor Hyunjin, honestly.
The eight of them have spent every single day together since they’ve all arrived in town, finding one way or another to be around each other even when running errands or playing card games late into the night. This has also meant that Seungmin’s around Chan constantly, bristling at light touches that the latter seemingly leaves him with yet craving them all the same. He’s never quite understood why addicts keep going back to something that so obviously is detrimental to their health but he thinks he’s beginning to get it; because that is exactly what Chan does to him- his palms turn sweaty, lungs empty of air and his heart throbs painfully every time Chan so much as bumps shoulders with him.
A sigh leaves Seungmin; even fifteen-year old him would find this twenty-four year version of him embarrassing right now because what do you mean he’s still pining away after the same boy that he’s wanted for over a decade now.
They all pile into the car around seven, heading towards Hyunjin’s duplex which is about thirty minutes away; Seungmin casts Felix a look of utter betrayal when he, Jeongin and Jisung cram into the back of the car, leaving Seungmin to slide into the passenger seat. Even with all the rowdiness in the back- they’re fighting over who has better music taste- and the song in the background, Seungmin finds the whole drive to be more intimate than he wants to. They’ve driven around like this before, of course they have- he’s pretty sure that he’s been driven to places by Chan before too- but this feels… different. He tries his hardest to ignore the glances that Chan sends his way; he tries even harder not to openly gawk at Chan’s ring clad fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.
Groaning to himself, he just opts to look out the window to see the streets of his home flash by- adorned by Christmas lights and garlands.
Hyunjin’s place is bathed in a warm glow of sorts; there are golden streamers draped across the expanse of property, with huge garlands over every window. Seungmin sneaks a glance at his best friend, only to find Felix looking up at the house with a wistful longing that’s definitely tinged with pain. Jisung’s trailing behind Jeongin, shoulders tense.
“This is going to be one hell of a night-” Chan mutters to Seungmin as he locks up the car and begins walking towards the house; Seungmin wonders if he knows that they’re part of this hellish mix too.
Hyunjin’s gone all out, which is very unsurprising- a long table holds all sorts of finger food and drinks, every corner of his home adorned with huge red bows, garlands and every other Christmas decor one can think of. The lighting is dim, the place illuminated by electric candles, a gigantic Christmas tree taking up a whole corner and lit up with golden streamers like the ones outside and a fireplace in the living area.
They’re all dressed to the nines too, even the few familiar acquaintances and casual friends that are in attendance; Seungmin almost wishes that no one had bothered to because everything and everyone pales in comparison to Chan. He’s in a sleek black suit that’s been tailored to his measurements; his dark hair is styled away from his face, revealing his gleaming eyes linger on Seungmin for longer than usual. He has no shirt underneath, which leaves a lot of his perfectly chiseled chest on display; Seungmin’s convinced that this has been done on purpose, although he isn’t entirely sure what for.
Maybe it’s just the universe’s way to mock him endlessly, dangling what he wants so desperately while knowing that all he can do is look.
Soon, the alcohol starts flowing and everyone starts mingling. The guy from a few days ago at the cafe- Seung Ho- greets him with a twinkle in his eyes, asking for a dance. Before he can reply, Minho comes barreling towards him and sweeps him away, saying something gibberish that Seungmin can’t make out for the life of him. He turns around to find a very confused and slightly crestfallen Seung Ho staring back at him; he really didn’t have any intentions of dancing with him but damn, what the fuck is up with Lee Minho now? He doesn’t have to ask though, because he can see why Minho’s this agitated.
Out on the dance floor where half the party is dancing, shimmying and swaying to the groovy music, Han Jisung almost grinds on a guy that Seungmin doesn’t recognise; it’s probably for the best, given that his life might end tonight.
“What do you want me to do about it?” Seungmin asks, saving Minho the shame of spelling out what has him seeing red.
“I don’t know-” Minho mutters, eyes still keenly set on Jisung, who’s actually staring right back at Minho too, “distract the guy.”
“Why don’t you send Lix or Changbin? They’re far better with people than I am-” Seungmin says, desperately trying to locate their friends but only finding Hyunjin talking to a rather lovely girl even though he seems utterly absentminded.
With every passing second, Jisung’s moves only get bolder and more lewd and good god, Seungmin really doesn’t have a choice if he does not want this party to end with a fucking brawl. As he strides over to Jisung and his friend, he tries to remember why he was excited to have the eight of them reunited in this godforsaken town.
Seungmin pulls Jisung away from the guy behind him, startling the latter; Minho is right there, catching Jisung before he can stumble and face-plant himself on the floor. Despite the obvious anger darkening Minho’s features, there’s a triumphant smile on Jisung’s face, like he’s won something without having to do a damn thing. Seungmin huffs, looking away from the lovely disaster that these two are together and means to walk away from the dance floor but then the guy who was previously dancing with Jisung, pulls him closer. It’s not that Seungmin doesn’t like dancing; it’s just that he hates dancing with strangers and he’s never seen this man in his entire life. He’s also not drunk enough to not care, which is why he begins to politely shove him away.
Seungmin doesn’t get to do much though; in an instant, he stumbles back onto a firm wall of muscle, knowing instantly who’s behind him. Isn’t it a little crazy that he thinks he could recognise Chan just by the shape of his very existence?
“Scram-” Chan simply says to the guy, who only looks mildly offended as he slinks away.
“I am sorry-” Seungmin says, although he isn’t entirely sure what he’s apologising for, “You didn’t have to-”
“I did.” Chan says, his eyes softening infinitely as he locks his gaze with Seungmin, “I am always going to want to protect you from unpleasant things, Seungie. I am sorry if I am overstepping-”
“You’re not.” Seungmin, disliking how warm his chest feels at Chan’s words; he has to do something about it. A friend of his- Ryujin- passes by and he politely takes one of the two glasses she’s holding. She looks at him and then at Chan before winking at him and walking away.
Before he can think too much about Ryujin’s reaction and what’s in the cup because he’s really not that big of a drinker, Seungmin simply chugs the whole thing in one go- goodness gracious, it’s rum and coke. The alcohol warms him up instantly, jolting through his body like it’s undoing all the tension in his muscles and leaving him loose and careless.
“Woah-” Chan says, smiling unsurely at Seungmin, “you okay, Seungie?”
Seungmin nods, smirking at Chan the way he’s never had the courage before; he loops his arms around Chan, mostly to stay upright because the rum’s really hitting him now, mixed with all the wine he’s had in the last couple of hours.
“Dance with me?” Chan asks him and it’s like they’re both shocked by it; so much so that they don’t give it enough time for it to mean something. They begin swaying to the music, their moves turning sexier because of the kind of the music that’s pouring out of the speakers. Chan’s hands drift down to Seungmin’s waist, resting on his hips as Seungmin grinds against nothing but air for him.
Oh, it’s all been for him. Always.
As the crowd grows larger around them, they automatically press closer together. Their faces are so close that Seungmin can see- even in this low lighting- the faint blue veins running along the lids of Chan’s eyes every time he closes them. Chan raises one of his hands so that it is draped over the nape of Seungmin’s neck; maybe it’s the heat of all the bodies or the way the French song has a hypnotic rhythm to it but Seungmin feels like Chan’s wrapped him in a bubble of his presence, completely separate from all the other dancers around them.
Seungmin can’t tell for sure who leans in first- he thinks it’s him because the alternative is something he hasn’t ever dared to truly hope for- but then someone jostles them and they spring apart. He isn’t sure what Chan sees in his face- disorientated confusion or something along the lines- but whatever it is, it makes him bolt.
Chan heads to the balcony on the second floor, uncaring of the sleet on the tiles or the way the frigid air nips at the exposed parts of his skin; he can’t think about anything else except for the way he was so close to kissing Seungmin till they were both breathless or the confusion on Seungmin’s face. Of course , he’d be confused; why on earth would he want his best friend’s older brother to be kissing him at a Christmas party? Sure, he might still harbor a crush on Chan from his teen years but that’s not the same as wanting to be-
“Chan-” Seungmin’s voice carries over to him from the entrance of the balcony; he turns around to see Seungmin standing by the doorway, hand still on the handle of the glass door as if he’ll turn away if Chan asks him to leave. It’s almost as if he expects to be asked just that.
Jesus Christ, is that how rejected he’s made Seungmin feel as a friend, as a person he’s wanted for so fucking long? No wonder he was confused by Chan leaning in for a kiss.
No wonder.
“Seungmin-” Chan likes the way his name sounds on his own tongue, likes the little hum at the end, “come here.”
He reaches out his hand, hoping he’ll seem more inviting than he’s been. Seungmin stares at him for a moment, wary; Chan gulps because yeah, he has every right to be.
“You never really use my name, you know-” Seungmin frowns, staring at the floor as he comes to stand in front of Chan by the railing, “this must be a serious conversation if you are.”
Chan looks at him a little perplexed, unsure of where Seungmin’s coming from. This is a serious conversation, one that involves him handing over his heart no matter what Seungmin chooses to do with it after; he has to make sure that Seungmin knows that he’s always been wanted by Chan- in more than one way- and that he’s loved .
“Hyung-” Seungmin says softly, looking up at him with the same aching eyes as he had before Chan's flight all those years ago, “I need you to let me say something, okay? This might feel difficult for you to hear, or digest-”
“Seungmin-”
“No, please . Please don’t interrupt me. I need to get this off my chest and I don’t know when we’ll be here again, when I’ll have enough liquid courage to actually be able to say all of this to you. So just- please . I have loved you since I was… I don't even know. It sounds childish because how does a thirteen year old kid know that what he’s feeling for his best friend’s older brother is love? I didn’t, not at first. Not even when you left five years ago. All I knew was that it had felt like a loss, like I had lost my chance to love you without even knowing it.”
A stray tear slips down Seungmin’s face and it takes every ounce of restraint in Chan to not envelope his sweet, soft Seungie into a hug, to let him ruin his suit with his tears.
“I knew I loved you, just as I do now, when I tried to label what I felt for the people I dated and none of it ever even came close to… you . What I felt for you, what I still do.” Seungmin’s voice trembles with the effort to keep it from breaking and another crack runs along Chan’s heart, “So I am sorry that I leaned in to kiss you. You must have been so uncomfortable-”
“Seungie- no, wait-” Chan’s at a complete loss, unsure if he should let him keep talking when it’s so obviously hurting him so much to do so.
“I am sorry but please, I’d like for us to stay friends even now. I know it’s selfish that I am asking you to know all of this and still remain my friend but you’re… you’re family to me. I have never let my feelings come in between us and I won’t in the future either. So please, just- you don’t know what it’s like-”
“I do.”
“No, Chan, you don’t know what it’s like to love someone so much that you’re willing to be friends just so that they still remain-”
“ I do know , Seungie-” Chan says, unable to hold himself back any longer; he cups Seungmin’s face, using his thumb to wipe away the tears freezing on his cheeks, “I know what that feels like; I know what it feels like to disguise your love as friendly affection and brotherly concern when all you want to do is kiss them, strip them bare, touch them all the fucking time. I know because I have spent years wanting you, yet denying myself because you were so young when I left and it felt like I was just… I was going to exploit that schoolboy crush you had on me.”
“Chan, what are you-” Seungmin asks, clearly in disbelief even as he leans a little closer to Chan, his hands curling around the lapels of Chan’s suit jacket.
“I am saying that what you’ve felt for me for years, I have felt it too-” Chan whispers, unable to say it any louder because this feels like a moment of magic that he does not want to shatter, “I wasn’t meant to come back to Korea this holiday but I- I wanted to see you so much and… It’s probably childish but I wanted to tell you ‘merry christmas’ in person and that I miss you all the damn time. I probably wouldn’t have told you that I love you but maybe the ‘miss you’ would have been enough.”
Seungmin stands stunned for a moment, like one of the marble busts on the far end of the balcony before he closes the distance between them, locking his lips with Chan. His head empties of all thoughts, save the erratic beat of his heart and Seungmin in his arms- right where he should have been, all along. The kiss is hurried, an act of desperate claiming of each other’s love; their hands, frozen from the wintry cold around them, wander over their clothes- their teeth nip, breaths ragged against each other. It ends only when they need to come up for air. They rest their foreheads against each other, smiling so hard that their cheeks ache with the biting air whipping against them.
Their eyes dart towards the balcony doors just as they slam shut since the wind’s picked up a little, landing on the branch of mistletoe hanging right there; Chan can’t help but grin, wondering if the universe has conspired to put them here, flushed with wine and love.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart-” Chan whispers, trailing his fingers along the side of Seungmin’s face, “I have missed you, so much.”
“Merry Christmas, Chan~” Seungmin beams at him, so uncharacteristically uninhibited in his joy, “I love you, so very much.”