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Their first Christmas together happens in a hospital.
Jaemin gazes out the window, captivated by the snowy scene—the radio proclaiming it the snowiest Christmas in the last decade. He stares at the small pine tree standing at the front yard of the hospital, illuminated with different ornaments. A handful of figures moved outside; their purpose obscured by the cold vapor or perhaps the traces of a quiet smoke. He then turns his head to look at his mother, sleeping soundly on the hospital bed.
He slowly gets up from the chair he had pulled next the window and grabs his jacket, careful not to make a sound. He walks over to the door and takes a one last glance at his mother to make sure that she’s still asleep.
Travelling through the vacant hospital corridors, he notes the absence of the morning's cheerful bustle, replaced now by a hushed stillness. Even his uncle visited earlier, handing over a Christmas present—a new watch that, according to the dial, says it’s 23:12, less than an hour left until Christmas ends.
A wave of cold bites Jaemin as he exits from the front gate. He quickly puts his coat on and snuggles in as he walks over to the Christmas tree. The Christmas tree beckons, and as he nears it, he realizes it's not much taller than himself. He spots Christmas cards hung on the tree that he couldn’t see from the hospital room and carefully opens one to read what’s inside.
Hope I get to spend a better Christmas next year.
It hits Jaemin more than he’s expected.
"Are you okay?" a voice comes from behind. Jaemin turns to find a boy about his age, sporting an oversized coat that somewhat conceals his hospital gown. A walker boot peeks out from the left leg, damp from the snowy ground.
“I’m good, but are you supposed to drag that around the snow?” Jaemin asks, pointing at the boy’s walker boot.
“I don’t think so, but I really wanted to see the tree,” he replies. “I’m Jeno, by the way.”
Jaemin stares at the hand Jeno had extended for a second and shakes it. It’s feels warm. “Jaemin.”
“Nice to meet you, Jaemin,” Jeno smiles. “How old are you?”
“Turned fourteen this August.”
"Nice! We're the same age, then," Jeno says, sincerity lighting up his face. Jaemin notices bruises, illuminated by the changing colors of the tree lights.
Unable to resist his curiosity, Jaemin asks, "What happened to you?"
“Well, I’m on the football team at my school,” Jeno starts, “Or was. I crashed with another player who was almost twice my size and fell down real bad. Tore a muscle.”
“Ouch,” Jaemin winces.
“Yeah, it was terrible,” Jeno says. “You look okay, tho. Are you here for someone?”
Jaemin instinctively turns his head to look a few floors up, to the window he had been looking from at just a little while ago. “My mom.”
“Oh,” Jeno looks at the window too. “Hope she feels better soon.”
Jaemin remains silent. He knows she will, the doctors assured him, but the ache lingers. The knowledge that she couldn't celebrate Christmas after so much preparation, confined to a hospital bed, drowsy from medication—it stings.
He feels Jeno’s hand on his back. “Everything will be okay.”
Their second Christmas together happens 5 years later.
Jaemin had thought that joining a random college Christmas party would be fun. Turns out that it’s not.
Hunched over a living room corner, the music's dull thud reverberating in his head, Jaemin curses himself for drinking too much, for succumbing to the allure of free beer. He wants to go to his apartment, to his warm bedsheets. Despite being overly drunk, he reminds himself of the urgent mission to find Donghyuck—keys are crucial, and Donghyuck is likely more sober.
He gets up with the help of a houseplant he’s managed to befriend by the time he was trying not to puke on the corner. Everything’s a blurry mess, he can only make out the color of the amateur party lights that’s been put around the whole room. He tries to navigate through the crowd, bumping into some as equally drunk people that don’t seem to not mind him much.
He feels vomit clinging onto his throat, burning and not going up or down. The world tilts, and Jaemin feels like he's teetering on the edge of an endless fall. He continuously feels like falling again and again and again-
“Are you okay?” A strong grip clutches his arm, attempting to steady him. “You don’t look okay. Do you want me to take you to a hospital?”
Jaemin turns his head, tries to focus and- “It’s you!” he screams.
“Blackout drunk and still remember me. I’m honored,” Jeno laughs while making Jaemin sit on a chair nearby. Kneeling down to meet Jaemin's gaze, he asks, “Are you staying at the dorms? Do you want me to drop you off?”
Jaemin, words slipping from his lips without conscious thought, mumbles, "What are you doing here? You haven’t changed at all." His limbs betray him, growing increasingly numb and unresponsive. Lowering his gaze to Jeno's calf, he tries to discern if anything covers it. "How’s your leg?"
“I can walk,” Jeno reassures. “I’m especially good at walking people home. Let’s go.”
With a sudden, firm grip, Jeno hoists Jaemin, throwing his arm over his shoulder. “Where do you live?”
“I need to find Donghyuck,” Jaemin manages to blurt out despite the vomit threatening to block his throat. “My roommate.”
“Donghyuck? Isn’t he the one that came with the Santa costume on?” Jeno asks, receiving a nod from Jaemin as a reply. “He went with my roommate. Do you know him? Mark Lee?”
Jeno deciphers Jaemin's nonverbal response, a silent acknowledgment of not knowing someone of that name. "I’ll introduce you to him. He’s cool," Jeno assures as he guides Jaemin toward the exit. "I’ll take you to our place. Donghyuck’s there."
The transition from the sweltering party house to the frigid outdoors sends shivers down Jaemin's spine, his headache slowly disappearing with the fading music. Jeno tries to be careful to not drop Jaemin to the knee-deep snow as he continues pulling him, towards what Jaemin assumes is his car.
They halt in front of the vehicle, and Jeno fishes a key from his pocket, pressing the button to unlock the car. He opens the door for Jaemin, who, despite feeling odd in a semi-stranger's car, decides cooperation is his only option in his pitiful state.
Jeno settles into the driver's seat, securing both their seatbelts before starting the car. Jaemin taps on the window, and Jeno complies, rolling it down a safe amount.
“How come I’ve never seen you around campus?” Jeno asks after a few minutes, throwing a quick glance at Jaemin.
“We probably,” Jaemin gulps. “don’t hang around with the same people.”
Jeno looks amazed to see him form a full sentence. “Well, since you came to the party you must be friends with Jungwoo Hyung, right? That’s one common friend right there.”
“He’s Donghyuck’s friend, not mine,” Jaemin corrects him. “When will we arrive?”
“It’s right around the corner,” Jeno points with his finger. He nears an empty spot and manages to park in one try, if Jaemin wasn’t too drunk, he’d be amazed.
Jaemin tries to get off by himself but Jeno is quicker than him, pulling him off before he can put a foot off the car. Jeno leads him to the apartment they’ve parked next to. “You’re lucky that I live in the ground floor,” he laughs as he brings Jaemin to the apartment door that has a silver “1” hung on top of it. He brings out his key and opens the door, then guides Jaemin in.
“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes. But Jaemin doesn’t notice anything as his vision is still overly blurry, not seeing anything except it’s up close.
He sits Jaemin down onto the sofa and walks over to a door behind, putting his ear to see if there’s any sound. “Uh, I think you’re gonna have to wait a while,” he says, re-approaching Jaemin. But when he stands in front of him, Jaemin is long gone to the dream realm.
Their third Christmas together is a mess.
Jaemin had made Donghyuck promise that they would not go to another party because of the disaster from the previous year, so, Donghyuck arranged a small scaled event on their apartment instead. But there turned out to be a problem: Mark didn’t know how to cook and Donghyuck trusted him with the chicken.
The whole house smells like burnt chicken skin. Jaemin searches every corner to find the air freshener he had just bought, but it’s almost like it vanished into thin air. Even with the windows wide open, the horrendous odor lingers, driving him to the brink of madness.
“Are you okay?” Jeno asks, with a PlayStation controller in his hands and gaze fixated on the television screen.
“No, I’m gonna faint,” Jaemin replies. “Maybe you should put that down and help instead.”
Jeno clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I’m a guest, and you’re making me work? Not nice,” he remarks, complying with Jaemin's request.
“It’s help and not work,” Jaemin nags. “Mark is a guest and he’s helping.”
“The worst help ever,” Jeno laughs, glancing at the two figures from the partially open kitchen door, trying to scrape the burns away from the miserable looking chicken. “What are we looking for?”
“The fucking Febreze that I lost,” Jaemin answers, now pulling the cushions to see if it’s behind or under them.
“I think I saw one in your bathroom, under the sink,” Jeno points to the bathroom door at the end of the corridor as Jaemin starts walking towards it.
Jaemin swings the door open a bit too forcefully and crouches down with Jeno mimicking his move. He sees the blue-colored spray rolled at the very back and he reaches out to get it. He grabs the tip and pulls it towards-
Bam. The door shuts.
“Ah, the window was open,” Jeno says as he gets up. “It must’ve been the flow-” he pulls the handle, only to find it in his hand.
They stare at each other, then at the handle lying on Jeno’s palm. “What the fuck?” Jaemin shouts as he nears the door. He puts his shoulder vertically to the door, counts to three in his mind and bashes towards the door, achieving nothing. “Donghyuck! Mark!”
“Let me try,” Jeno gently nudges Jaemin aside and repeats what he did, but all he earns is a pain in his shoulder.
Jaemin continues shouting as Jeno rejoins him, both banging on the door. “They’re probably making out in the kitchen.”
“Gross,” Jaemin crunches his face. “Where’s your phone?”
“Left it on the couch.”
“Ugh,” Jaemin groans lowering himself onto the chilly tiles. He continues pounding on the door, now targeting the lower part. “Mine is in my bedroom.”
“What should we do?” Jeno asks, joining Jaemin and sitting on the floor.
“Wait for them to hear us or notice our absence.”
“What if they start fucking?”
Jaemin doesn’t want to imagine. “Then we’ll probably spend Christmas here,”
Jeno laughs in response. It’s colder than the living room, but Jaemin’s grateful that the smell of chicken isn’t too strong. He sprays once with the Febreze, cursing at the object. Jeno inspects the handle, the golden shining under the bathroom light. “What if they forget us and we die from hunger in here?”
“I’m pretty sure that won’t happen,” Jaemin assures. “Even if they forget us, mom won’t.”
“How is she? Haven’t seen her in so long,” Jeno asks enthusiastically.
Jaemin laughs. “You haven’t seen her at all.”
“Not in person, but I talked to her once while you were facetiming,” he beams, playfully shoving Jaemin.
With Jeno’s touch, Jaemin somewhat feels dizzy. “She’s okay, a little bit ill, but she’ll be fine.”
“You have your mom’s immune system,” Jeno remarks, and Jaemin senses a hint of seriousness. “You get sick so easily. It hasn’t even snowed but you got sick three times since November.”
All Jaemin does is nod in agreement. He knows that it’s a miracle for him to spend Christmas without a cough or a constant sneeze stored up on his nose. It feels oddly comforting for someone to point it out and nag, Jaemin doesn’t know why but he enjoys being taking care of. Especially by Jeno.
Within the hushed confines of the bathroom, Jaemin comes to terms with the idea that he's perfectly okay with this. Spending Christmas in a small bathroom, backs against the wall and sitting in silence. Even if they don’t say a word. He imagines anyone else being there with him, and he immediately hates it. It’s Jeno. He enjoys being with Jeno.
On their fourth Christmas together, something changes—they kiss.
A loud Paul McCartney song plays in the background, Smile Away as Jaemin remembers, one of his mom’s favorites. He watches Donghyuck help his mom with the plating of the leftover cookies, exchanging jokes with soft giggles, their immediate bond obvious. He knew that Donghyuck would charm his mom instantly, he always had that skill, but there was someone else Jaemin wanted his mom to get along with.
He turns his wrist to take a look at his worn-out watch, which shows that it’s almost midnight. And Jeno is nowhere to be found.
He had sent a few rushed texts to Jaemin hours ago, saying that he’s going to be late and that they should start the dinner without him. Jaemin thought that he’d at least be there for dessert, but the wait yields no results.
The watch, his uncle’s Christmas gift from 7 years ago reminds him of the past, when he was 14 and filled with Christmas spirit and desired this very thing, a cozy Christmas dinner with his close ones. Yet, there's a pang of emptiness in his heart, an unfulfillment he knows all too well.
Mark settles beside Jaemin on the overly-soft sofa, eyelids half-closed, a sense of drowsiness taking hold. “Lighten up, buddy,” he mumbles. “There must’ve been something urgent. Or else he would’ve been here earlier than all of us.”
An ironic laugh escapes from Jaemin’s lips. “Or maybe he’s hanging out with his new boyfriend. Maybe they’re making out in front of the fireplace in the rich kid’s mansion. Who knows?”
“Ugh,” Mark groans. “How many times do I have to tell you that him and Chenle aren’t dating?”
“They are suspiciously close for a couple of friends,” Jaemin insists as he rises from the sofa, grabbing the empty glass that’s been sitting on the coffee table. “And I’m not going to believe until it’s confirmed by himself. Wine?”
“How many glasses have you had?”
Not enough, Jaemin thinks as he walks toward his mom, who’s still occupied with the cookies. He grabs one, and before his mom can attempt to retrieve it, he bites its head. “Oh, this is very good.”
“I decorated that one,” Donghyuck beams as he continues decorating another cookie shaped like a Christmas tree.
“Yeah, I figured,” Jaemin says after taking another bite. “It was ugly as fuck.”
“Hey!” Jaemin’s mom chides as he swallows the remainder of the gingerbread man. “Be nice to the guests.”
Jaemin catches his mom stealing glances at the antique clock on the wall as he pours himself another glass of wine. Jaemin's fingers grip the wine glass, the cool touch of the crystal providing a slight comfort. “I doubt he’s gonna come,” he mutters, his voice coming out almost like a cry. 5 minutes left until Christmas ends, and Jeno’s still not there. “Maybe I should go to sleep.”
Donghyuck and Jaemin’s mom exchange glances, their words unheard by him as he downs the entire glass of wine in one gulp. The bitter taste lingers on his tongue. He notices Mark has already dozed off on the sofa, his rhythmic breathing adding a hushed layer to the room's atmosphere. As Jaemin passes by, he senses his mom's and Donghyuck’s pitying stares directed at his back, the weight of their concern hanging in the air.
But as he takes a step onto the stairs, the chime of the doorbell fills the house.
Jaemin bolts with a speed unparallel to the alcohol coursing through his system. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, and when he does, he's met with the face he's been longing to see all day.
Jeno’s dark hair is lightly dusted with speckles of snow, along with his eyelashes. His nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold, adding color to his otherwise pale face. “Hi,” Jeno says with a smile, but Jaemin can sense the concerned undertone in his tone. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” Jaemin hisses, closing the door behind him, leaving himself with only a thin sweater and sweatpants in the winter cold. He brings up his watch, checking the time. “Two minutes until Christmas ends. Why even bother to come?”
Jeno opens his mouth, likely to apologize, but Jaemin doesn’t let him. “If you wanted to spend Christmas with someone else, you could’ve told me. It’s not like I was going to force you to be here.”
“What do you mean?” Jeno asks. “Who else am I supposed to spend it with? My family are Buddhists.”
“Your new boyfriend, perhaps. I don’t know. Whoever you want to spend it with. I don’t care.”
Jeno laughs in response. “And who is this boyfriend of mine? Because it’s my first-time hearing about him.”
“Don’t play dumb,” Jaemin says as he watches Jeno pull something from his backpack. “The guy from-what the fuck is that?”
Jaemin stares at the odd-looking bouquet Jeno hands out to him, a little squished in the backpack and tied amateurly with a red ribbon. He holds it and brings it closer to his face. Mistletoe.
When he shifts his focus from the bouquet to Jeno, he senses what's about to happen. “Can I kiss you?”
Jaemin doesn’t utter a response but inches closer to Jeno instead, both of them instinctively closing their eyes. The air between them thickens with anticipation as they hover in that brief moment, the ambiance filled with the soft rustle of snowflakes and the muted sounds of a 70s rock song blasting inside the house.
Jeno’s breath mingles with Jaemin’s, creating an invisible thread that connects them. Jaemin feels the coldness disappear when his hand meets Jeno’s neck, and his lips meet Jeno’s, a sudden wave of warmth swimming through his entire body. It’s soft, gentle, and everything he’s hoped for. It lasts not that long but feels like an endless dream for Jaemin.
“Now what?” Jaemin asks when they part, out of breath.
“Jaemin, I really, really like you. And I want to continue kissing you, being with you, and spending every Christmas with you,” Jeno murmurs, the words flowing like a gentle melody, “But I can’t do any of that if I freeze to death. Can I please come in?”
Jaemin's eyes widen with realization, and he rushes towards the door, frantically pressing the doorbell as if trying to make up for the unintended chill in the air.
“And, uh, can you help me? I’m having a bit of trouble walking,” Jeno mumbles as he stares down at his foot, and that’s when Jaemin notices the huge walker boot that gives him flashbacks.
Jaemin bolts at Jeno’s direction again, throwing his arm over his shoulder to help him walk. “What happened? Does it hurt? Do you want me to give you a piggyback?”
"I'm okay," Jeno chuckles, his laughter harmonizing with the anxiety in Jaemin's voice. "I was practicing before coming here to pass the time, and I fell. It's not that serious, but they gave me the boot since I had an injury before. That's why I was late."
"You should've called me."
"I didn't want to worry you. As I said, it's nothing serious."
The door opens when they arrive, and Donghyuck’s smile widens when he’s met with Jeno’s face.
“I’m going to kill you if you keep worrying me,” Jaemin jokes as Donghyuck pulls Jeno into a welcoming hug.
“Maybe you should save that for next Christmas.”