Chapter Text
Hyungwon knocks his neighbor’s door frantically. He hasn’t slept properly for three days—heck, he hasn’t even come home for five—the last thing that he needs is a Christmas carol blasted on full volume by his neighbor.
When the door is opened, Hyungwon doesn’t waste his time. “Could you, please, turn down the—”
“Oh, perfect!” the neighbor beams, completely ignoring Hyungwon’s ongoing complaint. He opens the door wider and drags Hyungwon inside, making Hyungwon startled because this is unexpected. Hyungwon wants to stop the man and yells out his confusion and frustration, but the inside of the man’s apartment freezes his brain. The apartment is decorated as if it’s 24th December already. There are wreaths, garlands, candles—there is even a gigantic Christmas tree in the middle of the room, lighted up with small lights wrapped all over it.
There are also other things, but Hyungwon looks past them.
Hyungwon stands there, in the middle of the room, eyes wide like he is in the middle of a crime scene. His urge to yell and shout has gone, replaced with a deep bewilderment. “What the—”
The neighbor dashes to the table and comes back to Hyungwon with a star-shaped tree topper in his hands. Shoving it to Hyungwon, he grins and says, “I can’t put this up myself. I can’t reach the top.”
To say that Hyungwon is perplexed is an understatement. Looking down at the tree topper and then up to the Christmas tree, Hyungwon starts to suspect that his neighbor is somewhat crazy. Pushing the tree topper away from him, he states the obvious, “This is March.”
“I know,” the man smiles and pushes the tree topper back to Hyungwon. “Which makes us only nine months away until next Christmas. So, could you, please, put this up for me?”
Hyungwon debates internally if he should tell the man that nine months is not near enough, but there is something in the man’s eyes that lets him know that his effort would be fruitless. He stares, taking in the man’s smile, the man’s eyes, the man’s expression. This is not a fight that Hyungwon could win. “If I put this up, would you turn the volume down a bit?”
“If you put this up, I’d make you a cup of hot cocoa and let you sleep in front of my virtual fireplace. How does it sound?”
It sounds absurd, but before Hyungwon could point it out, the man chuckles and squeezes his upper arm.
“And I’d turn down the volume a bit, I guess. There are some slow Christmas songs, I’d play them as a lullaby for you.”
It sounds even more absurd and the little voice of reason in Hyungwon’s head tells him to just turn around and leave his neighbor forever, but all he wants to do right then is to sleep, and the idea of sleeping on the fluffy carpet right in front of that fancy virtual fireplace suddenly sounds okay.
Hyungwon puts the tree topper up with ease. The neighbor claps happily and goes to make two cups of hot cocoa for them both. They sip it in front of the virtual fireplace, hugging their knees close to their chests with fluffy blankets around their shoulders. It feels strangely familiar to Hyungwon. He distantly recalls being in a situation similar to this, probably in his childhood, and it makes him feel comfortable, although he knows he shouldn’t be.
Hyungwon learns that his neighbor’s name is Lee Minhyuk that night. He also learns that he’s not the only one lacking sleep—Lee Minhyuk dislikes sleeping alone.
(Hyungwon doesn’t usually sleep in a stranger place upon first meeting, but he just wanted to sleep.)