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A Taste of Christmas

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Seokjin let himself fall onto the couch with a loud and heavy sigh.
The door had finally closed after Jimin left for the train station in a hurry - like always.
And he had almost forgotten some stuff - like always.
And it almost ended in chaos - like. Fucking. always.
Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without someone somehow forgetting something or being late or whatever.
It wouldn’t be the first time that Seokjin would have to drive through the city like a fucking maniac to bring one of the boys to the train station.
The only one who was always ready on time was Yoongi - thank god for Yoongi.
But since he was also always one of the first ones to leave, he could never really help out with kicking the other one’s butts.
That always resided with him - yay.

Seokjin sank down a little more, almost wanting to melt into the couch and be one with it.
Why was Christmas always such a fucking mess?!
As if it was a surprise that Christmas came around on the fucking 24th of December every damn year - whoopsie, I didn’t know that!  
Seokjin’s face twisted into a pout, his eyebrows drawn together in frustration.
He just wanted a quiet, easy holiday for once - just once!
But if it wasn’t Jimin then it was Jungkook. And if it wasn’t Jungkook, then it was Taehyung. Or Hoseok. Or Namjoon.
And the latter one would easily break something on top of everything else.
Hoseok was only late when he tried to help the younger ones NOT be late, so that always turned out to be a little tricky.

„I am not their damn mother.“ Seokjin muttered under his breath. Although, who was he kidding, he was definitely their mother.
‚Jimin did you pack enough socks?‘
‚Jungkook did you bring something else than black for family dinner?’
‚Hoseok don’t you think you could use your train ticket if you want to use the train?‘
‚Taehyung did you pack the presents for your family?‘
‚Namjoon please don’t forget your wallet, it’s lying on the kitchen counter‘
‚Yoongi please suffocate me with this pillow so I don’t strangle them‘

He liked Christmas. Christmas was always colorful and happy and warm.
He loved decorating their place with Christmas-stuff - be it lights or ornaments or socks in front of the fireplace. He always baked loads of cookies, because Jungkook and Taehyung always ate way too many and he wanted them to take some home with them for their families as well. And from the morning of the 1st December on, he always wore Christmas sweaters.
Yoongi would always make a face at him when he presented a new addition to his collection but he was a damn proud Christmas sweater collector. Sue him.

And Christmas Eve was mostly just him.
Everyone always left campus to get to their families. And since Seokjin’s parents were often out of the country for Christmas, it was already a tradition that he stayed in the frat house and just enjoyed some time alone.
He didn’t really mind, to be honest.
The house was always full, there were always people here. The most he got were a few hours a week were he was truly alone but other than that? Someone was always home.
And he didn’t really mind, he loved his little family. He liked not being alone, that was actually one of the main reasons why he had joined a frat in the first place.
But that didn’t mean that a little peace and quiet wasn’t truly rewarding once in a while.

Mostly Seokjin just spend the days on the couch, catching up on some books he never got to read, drinking hot chocolate under a fuzzy blanket and enjoying the heat coming from the fireplace.
He loved hearing the fire crack and sizzle, it was a sound he always associated with Christmas and quality time. He would cook whatever he wanted to cook, enjoying the fact that nobody was stealing his food whenever they were hungry and not having to cook for so many people.
Again, he loved his family to death, but he loved this as well.
Only once had someone stayed over for Christmas and that had been Yoongi a couple of years back, after he had a falling out with his family when he told them he was gay. But that didn’t even last the full holidays, because after two days his mother had called, crying, and begged him to come home because of course they still loved him and they were sorry for reacting so wrongly.
Yoongi told him afterwards that it had been the most awkward and horrible Christmas holidays he had ever had, because his parents had the most ridiculous fears and questions, which had almost ended in another fight.
But by now everything was fine again and Yoongi went home for Christmas like always.

Seokjin smiled widely and closed his eyes, enjoying the wonderful silence that only came with nobody being at home. He sank back into the couch a little more, giving himself some more minutes before he would put more wood into the fireplace, cook something delicious and grab everything he needed for some beautiful, relaxing days.

And then there was a loud yell, followed by a loud thump, immediately followed by a loud crash that sounded dangerously like glass breaking.
Seokjin flinched so badly, that he was sure he trapped a nerve somewhere in his body and his heart started pumping 200 times a minute.
The first thing that shot through his head was ‚burglar‘, the second was ‚murderer‘ and the third was ‚that sounded oddly like Namjoon‘.
He blinked in confusion and got up from the couch.
What the hell?! Namjoon had left hours ago, right? This couldn’t be right, right?
And even if, what was he trying to do? Get in through the window?
He looked back over his shoulder but nope, the front door was still closed, and then started to make his way in the direction of the sound, which was now followed by some groaning and cursing.

„Shit, shit, shit!“

Jep, that was definitely Namjoon.
Seokjin rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw Namjoon standing in the middle of the floor, beside the big, white wall that was usually filled with so many pictures of all of them, that there was barely any place left for new ones. Pictures in frames with glass and so on.
Pictures, that were no longer on the wall … but on the floor.
Shattered.

Seokjin stood in the entrance of the kitchen and looked at the mess on the floor and then back up at Namjoon, who was rubbing his head and still cursing.

„What the hell?!“ He asked then and Namjoon jumped, whipping around.

„Jesus, fuck, Jin! What the hell!“ Namjoon breathed, a hand over his heart. Seems like he wasn’t the only one that got a heart attack.

„Yeah, no, that’s my question.“ Seokjin answered and crossed his arms.

Namjoon blinked at him rather stupidly and then looked down at the mess and then back up at him.
„Uhm …“ he said then.
And gulped.
„Y-You … uhm … w-what … are you doing at home?“ He asked then.

Was that a blush?
Seokjin narrowed his eyes.
What the hell was going on?!

„What am I doing home?! What are YOU doing home?! Didn’t you leave for your parents like … 4 hours ago?“ He shook his head and walked over the cupboard under the sink, grabbing a dustpan to clean up the mess.

„N-No, wait! You don’t- ah, shit, fuck!“

Seokjin turned around to Namjoon, obviously confused, but his eyes widened when he saw the younger one had apparently tried to walk over to him and - of course - ended up walking straight into the glass shards on the floor.
He stood up on one leg awkwardly (and dangerously unstable) and apparently tried to look at his left foot, a big shard sticking right out of his sole, his white sock starting to soak red.

Seokjin paled.
„Oh shit- Namjoon, don’t move! Are you okay?!“
He cursed and quickly moved over, crouching down to brush away the shards and therefor creating a small pathway for Namjoon.

„Jin, really, you don’t have to clean this up- I will do it!“ Namjoon insisted, almost whining, and Seokjin brushed it off.
„Don’t be stupid. Okay,“ he got up again and grabbed Namjoon’s arm. „come on over here.“
He pulled softly and lead Namjoon towards him, who stumbled rather stupidly on his heel, trying not to put his foot down.

Seokjin pulled him over to one of the chairs and made him sit down.
„Don’t move, I’m gonna be right back!“
Namjoon whined - he whined - and Seokjin felt a small tug at his heart as he left the kitchen to hurry to the bathroom and get the first aid kid.
He pulled open the white cupboard hastily and rummaged through it, until he saw the little red bag and pulled it out.
He jogged back to the kitchen, his brain almost stumbling over itself.
What was Namjoon doing here? Why was he still here? And what the hell had he been trying to do?
He shook his head and decided to ask the questions later. First he had to take care of Namjoon’s foot - unbelievable! - and then he could find out what was going on.

When he got back to the kitchen, Namjoon was-
Seokjin blinked at the picture before him because there had to be something wrong with this, right?
Namjoon was standing again, in the middle of the stupid pile of glass shards that he had pulled him away from just seconds before. What the hell?
Seokjin shook his head, waiting for the image before him to change.
Did he have too much eggnog earlier? This made no sense.

„What the hell do you think you’re doing?!“ He cussed and put down the first-aid-kit. Namjoon flinched - again - and turned around to him, his right hand stuffed into his pocket.
He blinked at him with wide eyes, clearly not having expected him back so soon.

„I uh … I just …“ he pointed at the floor and Seokjin crossed his arms, lifting an eyebrow.
Yes? He wanted to ask to urge him to explain this absolutely stupid idea.
„I lost uhm … my phone and I … uh … just wanted to make sure it’s still working.“ Namjoon explained.
Seokjin watched him and watched him quietly for a few seconds.
There was a deep blush on Namjoon’s cheeks and he knew exactly what that meant.

But instead, he pointed at the chair beside him.
„Sit down.“ He said then, using his serious voice. „Now.“
Namjoon flinched again, his shoulders going up as if he had just been scolded by his mother - again, he kinda was - and made his way over, sitting down quietly.
Seokjin shook his head and then got over to the sink. He grabbed a fresh towel and made it wet, filled up a small bowl with water and brought another empty one with him along with a pair of scissors.
He put everything down on the table and then pulled a chair up, right across from Namjoon, and sat down.
Sighing, he waved his hand. „Come on, give it.“
Namjoon winced. „Hyung, really, it’s …“ he shook his head and then actually turned away when Seokjin made the attempt to reach over.

The older one stopped at this, blinking in surprise.
Okay, no, this was something new.
He leaned back into his chair and looked at Namjoon, who clearly wanted to be anywhere else but here.
He gulped and looked over to the mess on the floor. Glass was lying everywhere, a few frames actually seemed broken, others perfectly fine and a few pictures were strewn across the floor.
Only now did he seem to realize there was a chair that normally didn’t belong there.
Right next to the wall, obviously fallen over.
He slowly blinked and looked back at Namjoon, who was … still blushing.
His gaze wandered downwards to the leg that the younger one had crossed over his knee so not to let it touch the floor.
And the sock was even more red.

„I’m … sorry if I … made you feel uncomfortable?“ Seokjin started then, carefully.
He actually had no idea whether this was the right direction but it was a point to start, right?
Namjoon flinched anyhow - and goddamnit, since when did he fucking flinch at everything he said or did?! - and then looked at him a little surprised.
„…What?“ He asked dumbly.
Seokjin gulped. „Well uhm… I just … wanted to help? You’re obviously bleeding and … we should really treat that wound, Joonie. I just know you don’t really like to see blood and … I always treat wounds here, right? I just wanted to help you, that’s all.“ He shrugged. „I’m sorry if I reacted to harsh or … dunnow, mothered you too much or something.“

Finally the blush on Namjoon’s cheeks seemed to vanish but only to be replaced by a look of utter confusion.
He looked at him like a deer caught in headlight and Seokjin almost wanted to shake him, so he’d snap out of it. Seriously, he was still curious as fuck as to why Namjoon was even here.
„I- … You.“ Namjoon shook his head. „What? No! No, no, no! No, Jin, oh god … no … you …“Okay now this was getting ridiculous. Namjoon seemed to think so as well as he took a deep breath.
„You’re not making me uncomfortable. I’m sorry, it’s not too much, I just …“ he sighed deeply. „I really don’t want you to faint when you take off my sock.“ Namjoon laughed awkwardly and Seokjin made a face.
Something was off.
Something was so damn off about all of this.  But Namjoon apparently tried his very best to avoid everything right now.
And Seokjin didn’t really want to leave it at that but … goddamnit that foot was really worrying him.

„Can I please get your foot?“ He asked then, quietly, and even though Namjoon had made a big fuss just minutes before, he lifted it up without another word and placed it onto Seokjin’s lap.
„Thank you.“ Seokjin mumbled.
He looked at the wound and quickly thought about how to start this off in the best way.
Wordlessly he grabbed the scissors and cut the sock open, so he could peel it off more easily.
Well, studying medicine was helpful in this household.

„So.“ Seokjin said after a few minutes. He had carefully started pulling the shards out of Namjoon’s foot with the help of some tweezers he had put into the first-aid-kit ages ago and placed them into the empty bowl beside them on the table.
„Now that you have your foot on my lap and can’t run away so easily,“ he felt Namjoon’s leg twitch and suppressed a small smirk that dared to latch onto his lips. „mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here?“
He pulled out another piece of shard and put it away before giving Namjoon a short look.
The younger one had his lips pressed together tightly and looked like he was thinking about what to say.
Something was off, like he said. This was so awkward, this never happened to them. They always worked like a well-oiled machine, there was a reason everybody called them Mom & Dad.
But this? This was something different and something that Seokjin wasn’t sure he had every experienced before. At least not to this extend.

„My parents are visiting my sister in America.“ Namjoon finally said. „They asked if I wanted to come along and I wanted to … but I actually have loads of papers to write. And I just know that I wouldn’t get anything done visiting America. Besides, my parents are already paying a lot of my tuition and I didn’t want them to spend even more money on me.“
Seokjin had stopped for a short while and watched Namjoon.
When he didn’t continue, Seokjin just answered a short „Oh.“ To which the younger one nodded.
He turned his focus back to Namjoon’s foot and pulled out the last shard.
Luckily the stupid sock had caught most of the small shards, so only bigger ones had actually pierced through.

„And you didn’t tell me … why?“ He asked then as he let the last shard fall into the bowl and gave Namjoon another look.
The younger one pressed his lips together and then shrugged. „I actually forgot. Or maybe I thought I told you already. I don’t know …“ he mumbled then.
Seokjin nodded again and then took the damp towel to carefully start cleaning Namjoon’s foot.
The younger one hissed slightly, his foot twitching and his hand grabbing the table a little harder.
„Sorry …“ Seokjin muttered and continued more careful.
The silence stretched out and again, it was really awkward.

„I actually thought you were a burglar.“ Seokjin admitted then and Namjoon let out a short chuckle, breaking the uncomfortable atmosphere. „What?“ He grinned. „A burglar?“
Seokjin nodded. „You know how easily I scare. When I heard the crash, I thought someone had broken into the window or something. I got half an heart-attack.“
Namjoon laughed a little by now and shook his head. „Who would break into a frat house? There’s almost always someone home! And besides, there’s not a lot to steal!“
Seokjin smiled as well and shrugged. „Yeah, well, I know. But my mind isn’t really working in logical ways in moments like these.“ And he knew Namjoon knew that. Because they had all once visited a haunted house together and besides Yoongi coming out with a ringing ear because Hoseok had screamed so loudly, Namjoon had come out with crescent-moon-shaped bruises on his arm.

When Seokjin looked up at Namjoon the next time, the younger one was smiling at him rather fondly and it made him stop in his motions for a few seconds.
Just like that, the awkwardness had been broken and now it was replaced with something that Seokjin liked to call Cotton Candy.
Pink and plush, all warm and fuzzy and coating him like a big cocoon. It was something he only experienced with Namjoon and - to his horror (?) - something that had reappeared more often in the last months.
Sometimes Hoseok would coo and call it a Mommy-and-Daddy-moment for which he almost always earned a slap from Seokjin across his head or arm.
To break it, Seokjin hastily added. „And then I thought you were a murderer.“ As to which Namjoon barked out a loud laugh.
„You thought I was a murderer?“ He laughed and Seokjin had to chuckle because Namjoon’s laughter was actually infecting.
„Yeah well, like I said: My brain doesn’t work in those moments.“ Seokjin explained, the smile still tugging at the corner of his lips.

He dried off Namjoon’s foot and looked at the damage more closely.
„Your feet don’t smell by the way.“ He said casually.
Namjoon chuckled. „Well, thank god. If you’d faint right now we would really need an ambulance.“
Seokjin grinned and put the towel over the whole sole again just to see how bad it was bleeding.
When he pulled it away again, he made a face.
„What.“ Namjoon asked and Seokjin sighed.
„It’s still bleeding quite a lot. I’m gonna cool it a little before putting a creme on it.“ He lifted Namjoon’s foot of his lap to stand up and got a fresh, dry towel. Handing it to Namjoon, he told him to apply good pressure with it and then he made his way over to the fridge to get out the icepack.

„NO!“ Seokjin had just reached out to pull open the fridge but Namjoon’s shout was so loud and so sudden, that he froze instantly.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
The clock on the wall just continued ticking and Seokjin was frozen in place, kind of not daring to move.
And Namjoon, obviously, didn’t give him any explanation either, so the older one had to move. He looked over his shoulder, at Namjoon, and yes, the younger one had actually stretched out a hand like he wanted to pull him back. And his face was completely shocked, like he had been surprised by his own shout out.

„… Why not?“ Seokjin asked then in complete confusion.
He looked back at the fridge and then to Namjoon again. „Is there a bomb inside that will go off when I open it or what?“
Namjoon winced. „No, of course not-!“
Seokjin rolled his eyes. „I’ll be careful.“ He just said and pulled open the door, to which Namjoon actually tried to scramble off his chair with a loud „No, Seokjin, wait! Don’t-!“ that had Seokjin’s head whipping back around.  
„Jesus!“ Seokjin snapped as he looked over to him. „What the hell is wrong with you? Sit back down, now! I’m just getting a cool-pad, I’m not actually eating your chocolate pudding or whatever.“
He turned back around and Namjoon actually, really, tried to get over to him on one leg - it was sheer luck that he didn’t stumble and hit his head or something - and laid his hand on Seokjin’s shoulder in the exact same moment that Seokjin’s eyes landed onto the inside of the fridge.

Time seemed to stop again.

Seokjin blinked.
And blinked again.
But the image was not changing.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned a bit forward at the same time he heard Namjoon let out something like … a whine?
He didn’t get it.
„Why … is there … this thing in my fridge?“ He asked then.
He looked over his shoulder and Namjoon had his face buried in his hands.
He was so confused.
When he looked back, it was still there, just sitting on the second shelf. He tilted his head to see, if another position would make more sense. But it didn’t.
„What … is it?“

Namjoon whined again. „Goddamnit, Jin, it’s supposed to be a cake!“ He protested then. „Can you not be a total ass about it?!“
Seokjin looked back inside the fridge and his eyes widened.
His shoulders flinched just shortly but he bit his tongue quickly and press his lips together as hard as he could in order to not let out a laugh.
Namjoon whined anyway and buried his face in his hands again, as the next words came out muffled again. „I know it looks horrible, okay?! I just …“ he sighed deeply and Seokjin turned around to him.
There was a deep blush on Namjoon’s cheeks and he really looked miserable.
„I just … wanted to make something nice for you.“ He muttered.

Seokjin was still confused.
He didn’t get any of this. That Namjoon stayed and was gonna stay for Christmas holidays. That he somehow managed to take half the pictures down. That he apparently baked a cake?!
What the hell was going on?
This was a dream right? It had to be! It was too strange.
He grabbed his own arm and pinched himself badly, flinching when it actually hurt.

Namjoon looked at him in disbelief. „Did you just try to wake yourself up?“ He asked then.
Seokjin looked back at him and shrugged before giving a nod.
„I just … this …“ He started and then closed his mouth again. „I don’t get it?“
The younger one looked at him and then pressed his lips together tightly, not saying anything - which wasn’t really helping Seokjin in the slightest.
„I just … why … a cake?“ He pointed to the fridge. „And why did you, out of all people, try to make a cake?“
Namjoon fidgeted in his place uncomfortably and glanced away. He shortly looked over the mess on the floor and his lips tightened.
„Because it’s christmas.“ Came the bland answer.
And Seokjin was no wiser than before. If, at all, he was even more confused.

He looked at the taller boy, waiting if there was an actual explanation following.
But after some more awful awkward seconds of pure nothing, he realized that this was probably it. And he wouldn’t get any more out of him unless he asked.
Seokjin sighed deeply and moved to the fridge, pulling out the cool-pad from the freezer.
He wrapped another towel around it and then moved Namjoon backwards, gently - the other one following his motion but stumbling slightly - and made him sit down on the chair again. He sat down again as well pulled Namjoon’s leg up to rest on his lap again before he put the cool-pad onto his sole.
„Seriously, Joonie …“ he just mumbled.
He could see Namjoon looking at him, watching him, but he didn’t look back.
Now that everything was calming down a bit, he wasn’t so sure how he felt about the fact that he wasn’t alone for the next few days. And to be more specific: That he would be alone with Namjoon for the next few days. He really, really, didn’t know how to feel about that.
Damn.

After the bleeding finally stopped, Seokjin put a lot of cream onto Namjoon’s sole and then bandaged it carefully.
They didn’t talk and Seokjin wasn’t sure whether he liked or hated it.
When it was all done, he got up and started gathering everything from the table top.
„Just pull over a fluffy sock and try not to put too much weight on it, at least until tomorrow.“ He said then as he emptied the shards into the bin and put the bowls in the sink, turning on the water.

Namjoon hopped off the chair carefully and nodded.
„Thanks.“ He said then, quietly, and Seokjin only nodded, not turning around to him.
Again, uncomfortable silence stretched out and the older one wondered if he was the only one noticing it. And if not, whether Namjoon would finally speak up and do something about it.

He didn’t.

Seokjin sighed deeply.
„Just sit down on the couch, I’ll clean everything up.“ He muttered then.
„Jin, you really don’t have to-!“
„Don’t I?“ He asked and looked over his shoulder. „You can barely move. If you try to clean this up with one leg, you’ll probably end up face down and then I’d really have to take you to the hospital. And it’s Christmas and I don’t wanna!“ He kind of pouted at the end but it was the truth.
He had just wanted to relax, enjoy a hot chocolate and not do anything. Definitely not go to the hospital.

But Namjoon looked like a beaten dog.
He clearly didn’t want Jin to clean up this mess for him.
„You know,“ Seokjin started. „I will forgive you, if you tell me what the hell you’ve been doing there.“ He turned off the water and turned around to the younger one completely.
Namjoon looked at him and for a moment, Seokjin thought he would actually open his goddamn mouth. But instead, he made his way over to the cupboards (he hobbled, really) and pulled out two mugs.
„You want some hot chocolate too?“ He asked then quietly.

Seokjin blinked at this and then sighed deeply, but smiled nonetheless.
„Yes, please.“ He said softly.
He grabbed the dustpan once again and made his way over to the mess on the floor, starting to clean up while Namjoon made them hot chocolates.

Shortly after, after Seokjin had cleaned everything up and put the frames on the kitchen table to glue them back together later, he ushered Namjoon out of the kitchen to take a seat at the couch.
He threw some more wood into the fireplace and got the fluffy blanket before he sat down next to him.
Throwing the blanket over the both of them, he then scooted a little closer until their shoulders bumped together and took one of the hot chocolates out of Namjoon’s hands with a chirping „Thanks!“.
Yes, maybe he was using this situation a little bit but Namjoon could suck it up for scaring the hell out of him. Besides, it was just sitting a little closer while it was cold outside, nothing too dramatic, right? And therefor he also didn’t really see the blush on Namjoon’s cheeks.

„Are you gonna tell me what you did back there?“ He asked after quite some time of peace and quiet. He knew something was up, he could feel it in his bones. He’d been living far too long in this household to not smell it when something was up.
Therefor he also felt Namjoon stiffening beside him, his muscles tensing up.
Seokjin moved his left hand under the blanket and laid it onto Namjoon’s thigh very softly. Just to let him know everything was okay. Nothing was burning, nothing was gonna explode, it had just been a simple question.
And normally Seokjin worked wonders in calming Namjoon down. But today … the rigidness in his thighs didn’t seem to subside.
Slowly Seokjin really started to get worried.

He counted to ten.

„Okay.“ He said then when Namjoon didn’t say anything and also didn’t relax.
He leaned forward and put his cup down onto the couch table and then pulled the cup from Namjoon’s hands to do the same, even though the younger one let out a short sound of protest.
He leaned back but turned around on his spot, so he could face him properly.
„What is going on?“ He asked finally, staring Namjoon down.
Nope, he wasn’t gonna let up this time.

Namjoon sighed deeply.
„God, Jin, it’s nothin-!“
„Don’t say it’s nothing, Namjoon! I know you’re lying. I can always tell when you’re lying!“ Seokjin cut in. „And you’ve been lying to me this whole fucking evening.“
Namjoon rubbed his eyes, as if he was already really tired by this conversation and it riled Seokjin up. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten started yet.
And why was Namjoon acting like he was such a nuisance?!

„Seokjin.“ Namjoon said then. And he was using his serious tone.

Fuck.
Seokjin watched him but didn’t move. Nope. Not this time.
Namjoon looked at him and if Seokjin wouldn’t be such a damn bullhead, he would’ve probably caved. But no. He wouldn’t.
„Namjoon.“ He therefor answered cooly.
„Can you please, for the love of god, just drop it.“ Namjoon said then, calmly but seriously.
Seokjin shrugged.
„You don’t believe in god, so you can’t use that.“
It made Namjoon roll his eyes.
„I swear to-!“ He started to get off the couch but Seokjin was on him like a cat pouncing his prey.
„Oh no, no, no, mister.“ He pushed Namjoon back against the couch forcefully. „Goddamnit, Namjoon, I’m not someone you can just push away when you feel like it. What the hell is going on with you?“
Namjoon tried to push Seokjin off but the older one was very persistent.
„Nothing is going- goddamnit, Seokjin - nothing is going on! Can you just leave me alone?!“
Seokjin just looked at Namjoon, trying to tell him that he was not gonna let this go.

„Seokjin, get off of me.“
And everything shifted.
Suddenly Namjoon’s tone and his face told Seokjin that this turned real ugly, real fast.
He took a deep breath.
„No.“ He said anyhow.
„Goddamnit-!“ Namjoon suddenly grabbed his shoulders and started pushing him and that’s when Seokjin really became a little worried … scared?
Namjoon never used force, against anyone, never got angry and used his hands. Especially not against him
This was something big.
And Seokjin stepped right into the middle of it.

And although Namjoon’s grip was tight on his shoulders, Seokjin cradled his face into his hands very gently. „Hey, hey, hey…“ he said then, trying to get the younger one to stop. To stop and look at him. „Look at me, hey, Namjoon! Look at me!“
It was like fighting a rogue animal, or a child? Something he definitely didn’t know from Namjoon.
Namjoon, who always seemed so much older than he actually was.
So much wiser and calmer. Who always had some good advice, some worldly wisdom.

It took a few seconds for Namjoon to look at him, his dark eyes burning with a fury he had never seen before and his breath coming out in huffs.
Seokjin blinked at him in surprise.
„Okay.“ He said then. „Okay.“ He nodded, repeating the word to settle the situation a little more.
His thumb stroke over Namjoon’s cheek almost absentmindedly, just wanting to calm him down.
Damnit he just wanted to be there for him. He wanted to know what was going on, what had him so … riled up and jumpy and confused.

But instead, the small movement didn’t seem that small to Namjoon at all. Instead, his brows furrowed, his eyes turned darker and Seokjin realized he had done something, again, and he didn’t even know what exactly it was.

„Stop doing that.“ Namjoon snapped at him - actually snapped.

„Doing what? I’m not doing anything!“ Seokjin protested.

„This. Being so nice to me. Stroking my cheek. Just stop.“ Namjoon said angrily.

And Seokjin let go of his face as if he had been burned.
He stared at Namjoon and Namjoon glared back.
This … had definitely never happened before.
And suddenly Seokjin felt so damn uncomfortable being halfway in Namjoon’s lap and he moved away like he’d been slapped, hands still up.
Namjoon snorted and got up with a huff. „Thank you.“

Seokjin looked up at him with wide eyes.
What the hell … had just happened?
Namjoon stood in front of the couch but didn’t move any further. Like he didn’t really know what to do. Seokjin had actually thought he would just storm up to his room and vanish for the rest of the evening.
But he didn’t move.
Seokjin saw his fists clench and unclench and he really wondered what the hell was going on.
Because this was so unlike Namjoon?

„Joonie …“ he said then softly. He really just wanted to help?

„Do you …“ Namjoon started then and turned around slightly. „Do you even know how frustrating you are?“ He asked then.

Something heavy settled in Seokjin’s stomach as he stared up at the taller one.
He opened his mouth to say something but nothing really came out.
Namjoon turned around to him completely, his face just blank.
Seokjin wondered whether Namjoon actually expected an answer from him. And if yes, what the hell was he supposed to say to that?

„I’m … sorry?“ He said after some more, dreadful, quiet moments.

Namjoon’s brows furrowed a little more.
„No. No don’t apologize!“ He said then, obviously frustrated. „Why are you apologizing?!“
„W-Well …“ Okay, Seokjin was really at a loss for words here. What the hell was going on? „You said that … uhm … I’m frustrating? So uh … I just … wanted to apologize? I didn’t want to frustrate you?“
Seokjin really just wanted to throw his hands up and scream ‚What the hell do you want from me?!‘.
And Namjoon didn’t really seem to like this answer either.
„Don’t apologize!“ He said then in a lecturing tone. „You did nothing wrong.“
Seokjin opened his mouth and stared at Namjoon for some seconds (was he even serious?!), before he got up in frustration. „Nothing wrong?! Apparently everything I do is wrong!“ He protested.
Namjoon narrowed his eyes and looked at him.

„I made you a cake.“ Namjoon said then, looking right into his eyes.
Seokjin blinked. „Yes, I know you made a cake-!“
„No. Jin. I made you a cake.“ Namjoon repeated.

And really, the oldest was so confused. Nothing made sense right now, this whole evening was just so damn confusing. It was like they were playing a game and Seokjin didn’t know it. Or the rules. Or the purpose. Or anything, apparently.
He looked at Namjoon, really wondering if he was just joking with him.
„I … know.“ He said again, calmly. „You made a cake, I got it the first time-!“ And Namjoon groaned again, rubbing his hands over his face.
„You are so frustrating.“ He repeated and Seokjin really wanted to slap him.
„Well I’m sorry-!“„I said don’t apologize!“
„Well what else am I supposed to do when you always accuse me like that!“
„LISTEN!“ Namjoon snapped at him and Seokjin actually shut up. „I want you to listen, Jin. For once, can you please just listen to what I am saying?!“

They were standing right in front of each other, staring at each other, not saying a word. Seokjin was so damn frustrated (haha) by now and seriously wondered, whether he should just leave and go to bed. Because obviously something was going on and he was apparently too blind or too stupid to get it. Namjoon was watching him rather exhausted and he looked like he hoped Jin would get it. Finally get it. And Seokjin had no idea what he was even supposed to get here.

„I. Made. You. A. Cake.“ Namjoon repeated, very strongly, very slowly. Like the sentence had changed since the first three times he had said it.
And Seokjin was about to ask him if he was serious. If this was some kind of joke and he was just too stupid to get it. He was ready to open his mouth when Namjoon’s words hit him again.
Listen.
‚I made you a cake.‘ Seokjin rolled over those words in his head again and again and still he didn’t get it. And then he went through them one by one.
And suddenly it snapped into place.
„You made me a cake.“ He said then, slowly.
And Namjoon sighed in relieve. „Yes. Thank you. I made you a cake.“

Seokjin stared.
And Namjoon stared back.
The fire place cracked loudly and they both flinched slightly in surprise.
Seokjin still didn’t it. Even though he understood, it didn’t … make sense?
„Why … would you … make me a cake?!“ He asked then.
Namjoon looked at him and lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Fucking seriously.
„You … can’t even bake!“ Seokjin protested then and Namjoon rolled his eyes. „You don’t say.“ Came the easy answer and Seokjin pouted.
„Well, explain it to me then!“ He said then, still pouting. „Obviously I am too dumb to get it!“
Namjoon chuckled slightly and Seokjin felt relieve flooding him when he wasn’t looking as angry anymore.
„You’re not dumb, Jin.“
„I sure as hell feel like it.“ Seokjin answered. „All of this doesn’t make sense! Why you bake me a cake? Why you fell off a chair and broke half the pictures? I just …“ He shrugged. „I don’t get it.“

Namjoon sighed and rubbed his eyes. „Jesus, I can’t believe Yoongi was right.“
Seokjin blinked. „What? Yoongi? What does Yoongi have to do with any this?“ He looked around. „Is everyone here?“ He asked then. „Is this some joke? Are you all just hiding and waiting to surprise me?!“
To be honest, that would actually be something they would do.
Namjoon shook his head. „No, just me. Sorry to disappoint.“

I’m not disappointed by that Seokjin wanted to answer.

Seokjin looked at Namjoon, who looked back again at him and pressed his lips together.
„I know you like christmas.“ He said then.
Seokjin nodded.
„And you’re normally at home alone, so I thought I’d do something to make this time better for you, since I know you enjoy your alone-time and didn’t expect to spend it with me.“ Namjoon explained quietly. „So I bought you a present and I baked you a christmas cake with chocolate and all kinds of christmasy-spices that the recipe said I should put in, and I’m pretty sure it tastes awful but I did it anyway and I tried to hang up a mistletoe.“
Seokjin opened his mouth again but then stopped, mid-motion, his mouth staying open.

He stared.

Now he could definitely see the blush on Namjoon’s cheeks.
And the last part of the sentence banged around in his head like a lunatic.

I tried to hang up a mistletoe.

He still stared. He couldn’t stop staring. He really wanted to, he really wanted to close his mouth and blink and look away but he couldn’t.
„… What?“ He finally asked, his voice basically non-existent.
Namjoon gulped, heavily, but didn’t look away this time.
„Which part would you like me to repeat.“ He said then quietly.

And Seokjin still stared.

The fire cracked again but this time neither of them flinched. Probably not even a real burglar would’ve made Seokjin move right now. And although Namjoon looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here right now, he seemed to stand his ground.
„…You bought me a present.“ Seokjin repeated then, dumbly and Namjoon groaned loudly, a hand ruffling through his hair.
„Is that seriously the part that-!“
„You baked me a cake!“ Seokjin interrupted. „Even though you don’t know how to cook and almost lit my kitchen on fire every time you so much as tried to use the microwave to heat up leftovers!“ Namjoon made some protesting sounds at that but Seokjin wasn’t done.
„You tried to hang up a mistletoe. A fucking mistletoe. And almost broke your neck in the process, not to mention you took down half the wall and could’ve ended up seriously hurt, like, I don’t know: A shard in your eye?!“
„You do know breaking that my neck is actually worse than getting a shard in my eye, right?“ Namjoon answered to that and lifted an eyebrow. „Seriously, Seokjin, you’re the med student here, I thought you would know tha-!“

Shut up!“ Seokjin snapped and that made Namjoon flinch.

Now the older one actually wasn’t looking at Namjoon but at some point on the floor, or maybe Namjoon’s feet, or whatever. He definitely wasn’t looking at Namjoon.
His brain was trying to piece everything together, his neurons firing away information like crazy, he felt like his head might start fuming any second now because all of this didn’t make any sense!

There was silence after that. Namjoon didn’t dare to speak another word right now and Seokjin had one of his hands up but didn’t move or say anything, his brain working on overdrive.
He didn’t get it.
He simply didn’t get it.
But at least now he understood how Namjoon had ended up on a chair. He had tried to reach the ceiling to fix a damn mistletoe. Only Namjoon would be as naive and use a chair instead of the goddamn ladder they owned.
But he had cleaned the mess, he hadn’t seen any mistletoe?
He looked at Namjoon. „Where is it?“
„Huh?!“ Namjoon answered dumbly.
„The mistletoe.“ Seokjin pressed on, as if that was the most urgent question right now out of all this mess. „Where is it? I cleaned up the floor, remember? There was no mistletoe.“
Namjoon blinked. And blinked again. And then he slowly reached behind him and pulled a rather sad looking mistletoe out of his back pocket. Seokjin made some kind of choking noise in his throat. „I stuffed it away when you got the first aid kit.“ He explained calmly.

Seokjin stared at the small plant in Namjoon’s hands.
And then he looked up at the taller one.
„You wanted to hang up a mistletoe.“ He repeated then, a little calmer.
And Namjoon nodded, the blush returning to his cheeks.

„I’m going to bed.“

Namjoon flinched out of surprise.
Seokjin moved around the couch table and seriously, actually, made his way to the stairs in long moves.
„Wh-What … Jin!“ Namjoon called after him, obviously surprised.
But Seokjin definitely didn’t listen, he just moved to get up the stairs as quickly as possible.
„Jin, what the hell!“ He heard Namjoon from downstairs but he didn’t listen.
He just stormed inside his room and threw the door shut.
His heart was beating like crazy as he leaned against the closed door, his brain was screaming at him.

What. The. Hell.

Seokjin looked around his room.
He needed to clean.
He needed to clean something right fucking now.
The problem? He was a clean person. His room was clean. And not just a little clean but clean clean. Everything was in it’s place, everything was put away properly, there was nothing lying around.
And that was a problem.
Right now that was a fucking problem because he needed to clean.

He would also do dishes or clean the house but he couldn’t leave his damn room.
He looked around frantically, trying to find at least one fucking thing that wasn’t properly in it’s place.
Nothing. There was nothing.
But he was itchy and on edge and the only thing his stupid shut down brain could think was: You need to clean something.

So he walked over to his closet and pulled open the door.
He looked at his clothes - all folded properly, all hanging properly, all just fucking in order - and with a loud gasp (maybe he had accidentally held his breath?) he started pulling everything out.
Not just the trousers and shirts resting on hangers but also every piece of fabric that was folded neatly and in it’s place.
He just pulled everything out and onto the floor, evidently creating a mess.

And then he started to clean.

Twenty minutes in and Seokjin was sitting on his legs, folding every piece of clothing he owned carefully and precisely, redoing it again and again if it wasn’t perfect. And he had started to sort everything by color - because why the fuck not, it always looked cute in those stupid youtube videos.
Twenty minutes in and Seokjin’s door bursted open, revealing a rather agitated-looking Namjoon.
Seokjin flinched badly.
He really didn’t expect Namjoon to show. Definitely not without knocking. Definitely not so early.
He would’ve thought he would have at least a few hours if not days to decide what to do about this.
But here he was, sitting in a pile of clothes, staring at Namjoon, who stood in the door, looking not so calm.

And who didn’t say anything.

„Uhm …“ Seokjin started then.
„What the hell are you doing?“ Namjoon asked, obviously confused by the picture in front of him.
Seokjin gulped. „Cleaning my clothes?“
Namjoon furrowed his brows. „Why would you need to clean your clothes, your room could practically star in an Ikea-magazine, it’s so neat and tidy all the time.“ He commented then.
„Uhm …“ Seokjin said again.

Yeah well, you really confused me because you basically said you hung up a mistletoe, which people only do if they want to kiss someone, and I really don’t think you meant me but maybe you meant me and that really scared the shit out of me because HOLY FUCK and I really don’t know what to do or how to react so I needed some stress relief and the only thing that works is cleaning and I really didn’t have anything to clean in here so I created something to clean because I REALLY NEED TO CLEAN SOMETHING RIGHT NOW.

Yeah, no, that was probably not a good idea to say out loud.
He stared at Namjoon and Namjoon stared at him and the room was plunged into awkward silence all over again.
And then Namjoon shook his head as if he was snapping out of something. „Nevermind.“ Seokjin sighed in relieve. „Why the fuck did you run away?!“ Or not. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay rewind, could they go back to him trying to explain why he was cleaning?
Seokjin wanted to vanish. If not into thin air, maybe he could melt into the floor. Maybe he could fit under his bed?

Shit.

„Uhm …“ Seokjin said again.
„That’s really fucking rude.“ Namjoon said then and Seokjin blinked. Rude? What?
„… What?“ Seokjin answered dumbly.
Namjoon rolled his eyes and that really confused Seokjin because he never rolled his eyes at him. At Taehyung or Jimin whenever they did something stupid, sure, but never at him.
„It’s rude.“ Namjoon repeated. „To run away after I basically told you I tried to hang up a mistletoe.“ Ah, and there was the small blush again. And Seokjin’s insides turned. Why would Namjoon blush if this whole mistletoe-thing wasn’t about him? And if it really was about him, then Seokjin might actually get sick any second now. Because that really did something to his stomach.
„W-Well uhm … I … uh … I really uhm …“ Great Seokjin, great, maybe you should think about what you want to say before opening your mouth.
„You know you could’ve just said ‚no‘.“ Namjoon said then and Seokjin flinched. „I know it’s stupid to just hang up a mistletoe and hope that it would solve everything, especially the talking and confessing part, but seriously Jin, you could’ve just said no. ‚Sorry, Namjoon, that’s a really nice gesture but I just really don’t like you like that‘.“

Seokjin’s blood ran cold.
His heart started pumping 200 times a minute again, the beat rushing in his ears, pounding against his ribcage. His stomach squeezed (or turned?) rather painfully and he completely froze in his spot, staring.
Staring at Namjoon, who was still standing inside his door (his brain painfully realizing that he couldn’t run this time, unless he wanted to jump out of his window and probably break a dozen bones) and obviously waiting for an answer. Or an explanation. Maybe both.

„Like you like that?“ Seokjin rasped out, his voice practically gone. Or maybe he was an octave too high, he wasn’t really sure.
Namjoon pressed his lips together, the blush on his cheeks reddening. „Yes, Jin, like me like that.“ He squeezed out, his left hand grabbing onto the door handle a little too tightly.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.
Nothing had prepared him for this.
He didn’t have any time to think about this, to think about what to say or how to react.
And he always, always, reacted in completely wrong ways whenever he got into a situation like this. A situation that hit home so hard, that he couldn’t breathe.
It’s like if someone asked him on a date, sometimes he would just answer something completely stupid or different. Like ‚me too‘ or ‚bless you‘ (yes, that had actually happened one time).
He couldn’t handle stuff like this. And he definitely could not handle this from Namjoon.
From his Namjoon.

The boy who had lived right next door with him for a couple of years by now.
Who had helped to navigate this really awkward and weird and lovable little frat with him.
Who was basically his right hand.
Who had the most charming smile in the whole goddamn universe.
Who couldn’t cook to save his life. Who always stumbled or broke something in the cutest ways.
Who was absolutely brilliant but never showed it too much.
The boy who he had been in love with for at least 2 years now.
That boy.
That Kim Namjoon had just told him that he liked him like that.

And Seokjin couldn’t breathe.

„Oh god.“ Namjoon said then, worry striking his face and he moved over quickly, rushing over to his side. „Seokjin, shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that!“
Until Seokjin realized he actually couldn’t breathe - or more accurately: that he was hyperventilating.
Shit, shit.

Not the right time. He screamed at his head.

„I didn’t want to pressure you.“ Namjoon rambled on, looking worried to death. „I-I really didn’t wanna upset you, I just-!“
Seokjin barely noticed the way his hands scrambled for Namjoon’s sweater. The way he grabbed it so hard that his knuckles turned white. The way he buried his face in Namjoon’s chest, immediately stopping the taller one from rambling.  

The ringing in his ears stopped, his heart thumping against his ribcage finally slowed down, his breath started to normalize almost immediately again.
And then he sighed against Namjoon’s chest, closed his eyes and swallowed heavily to coat his dry throat.

„You didn’t.“ He finally said then, quietly.

Namjoon wasn’t moving for quite some time and then suddenly there were two hands on his arms.
And Namjoon’s whole posture seemed to relax as well.

„I just really, really, really didn’t know how to react.“ Seokjin admitted then.

Namjoon didn’t answer and Seokjin took some deep breaths before he finally leaned back and sat back on his legs. They were sitting across from each other now, on the floor, and this seemed a lot better than before.
Like a position in which Seokjin felt actually comfortable talking.
And he knew he had to talk, he obviously couldn’t run away again - he shouldn’t have before, but sue him.
Namjoon’s eyes were wide, watching him, waiting for an answer and Seokjin took a deep breath.
He watched Namjoon for some seconds and his brain tried hastily to sort out the words, to put everything in order, to find out what he wanted to say.

„I like you like that.“ He said then.

And for a few seconds, everything seemed to hold its breath.
Or maybe only Seokjin and Namjoon were, who knew.
But then Namjoon blinked and stuttered and Seokjin felt the mountain on his shoulders starting to break away.
„Y-You what? You do?!“ The taller one asked.
And Seokjin smiled and eventually chuckled.
„I do, I do like you like that.“ He said then and god he felt like crying because fuck, it felt so good to just say it.
„Oh god.“ Was Namjoon’s answer and he hold his head. „Are you serious? Are you sure?“ And Seokjin laughed slightly, because obviously he wasn’t the only one reacting in weird ways in moments of utter surprise.

„I am very sure. I have been sure for quite a while now.“

Now that had Namjoon blinking in utter confusion. „For a while now?“ He asked then. „What?!“
And Seokjin just shrugged. „Yeah well …“ he looked down at his hands and blushed slightly.
„No, no, no.“ Namjoon said then. „I was sure for a while now, you … you never said anything!“ Seokjin looked up at him. „Well … you didn’t either?“
„Yeah but you’re the older one!“ Namjoon protested as if that made any sense right now and Seokjin blinked.

They looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.

„Oh god, I’m sorry, I needed months of therapy-talking to finally get me to own up to this and-!“ „Therapy-talking?“ Seokjin asked, surprised. „You have a therapist?“
Namjoon waved it off. „Yoongi.“ Was his only answer.
Seokjin pointed at himself. „Hoseok.“ Came the instant answer.
And they stared at each other for some seconds and then started laughing all over again.

„I just … when I knew we would be alone I thought … it’s now or never. Because if no, then so what. We could easily avoid each other over christmas and then afterwards we would find a way to cope with it and so I thought: fuck it! And then I tried to hang that stupid mistletoe and the fucking chair just tilted and suddenly you were there and I panicked and I just-!“
Seokjin clasped a hand over Namjoon’s mouth and the other one immediately stopped talking - or rambling, really.
„Sorry.“ He just mumbled against Seokjin’s hand and the older one chuckled slightly.

„Where is it?“ He asked then.

Namjoon blinked.
„Downstairs.“ He answered and Seokjin wanted to kiss him right fucking here and now for even knowing what he was talking about - like always.
But instead, he stood up and grabbed Namjoon’s hand, pulling him up.
And he pulled him out of his room, down the stairs and suddenly Namjoon linked their fingers together and tightened the grip and Seokjin wanted to burst.

When he entered the living room, he opened his mouth to ask where exactly Namjoon put it but he didn’t need to.
Because right there, in the middle of the fucking living room, dangling from the stupid lamp on the ceiling, hang the slightly worn down and poor looking mistletoe.
And it was the most beautiful thing Seokjin had ever seen (or at least it felt like that in this moment).
His smile almost split his face, his cheeks already hurting from grinning the whole time but he didn’t care.
He felt Namjoon giving his hand another squeeze and Seokjin pulled him forward, walking right under the mistletoe.
He turned around and looked at Namjoon, the other one stupidly grinning as well, the blush on his cheeks still very visible and Seokjin was pretty sure he didn’t look any better.
And he knew they needed to talk.
They needed to talk about a lot.
And he wanted to. Damnit he wanted to talk about everything. He wanted to pull Namjoon down to the couch, make him sit right next to him and talk for hours.
And they would. He knew they would.
Just, for the love of god, just not right now.
Because his heart was beating against his ribcage again, and the blood was rushing in his ears, and his stomach was soaring with stupid butterflies and it was the best fucking feeling in the world.

So he grabbed Namjoon’s stupid pretty face (those dimples, jesus!) at the same time that Namjoon’s hands found his waist and they pulled each other close, their faces moving towards each other until their lips finally, finally, finally, met halfway.

~

Everyone basically came back at the same time.
Yoongi and Taehyung had apparently booked the same train back without knowing, Jungkook and Jimin had already planned to take the same train back right from the beginning and they all met Hoseok on the same bus to campus.
So when Yoongi and Hoseok were the first ones to unlock the door and get into the house, everyone still packed up in thick coats and scarfs and caps, they were also the first ones to see the mistletoe hanging from the lamp in the middle of the living room.
And also the first ones to catch Namjoon and Seokjin taking a nap on the couch in front of the fireplace, Seokjin lying on top of the younger one, a fluffy blanked draped all over them.

„Fucking finally.“

Came Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s simultaneous groan, jolting Seokjin and Namjoon right out of their slumber and planting a deep blush on their cheeks when the younger ones all started screaming and shouting and yelling at the same time upon realizing that they were, indeed, very naked.