mrs. jeon tears open the door as soon as yoongi rings the bell. seriously - not even a second later she’s there, her face pulled wide in a welcoming grin, and she’s ushering them all inside. yoongi’s glad; it’s starting to get a little chillier now that it’s the end of november and heading into december. he doesn’t like the cold, but it’s jungkook’s favorite season.

he’s always bright cheeked and starry eyed when winter comes around, so yoongi can’t find it in him to hate it completely. he looks that way now times two because of his parents, who are waiting for him on the other side of the door. they’ve gone to the small western-style house that jungkook’s parents own in busan, deciding to make a stop there for mrs. jeon’s almost-christmas get together. there’s no real reason for them to be in busan, really, but yoongi has also been homesick lately and it’d be nice to have some time alone with jungkook if hayoung could be watched by her grandparents, and mrs. jeon makes the best food...

“mom!” jungkook cries, leaning forward to hug his mom. he’s so much taller than her, but turns into a little boy at the sight of her big smile. jungkook’s father is standing behind her, long and limber, with curly hair instead of straight but with the same eyes, the same nose, as jungkook’s. the rest of his husband's features are from his mother.

they greet yoongi with the same zeal; mrs. jeon pulls his face down to kiss him on his nose, his forehead, his cheek. “you should visit more often, my son-in-law, you look not a day over twenty five. how’s your mother?”

“fine, eomonim,” yoongi replies back in kind. he shakes mr. jeon’s hand, who smiles at him. “how are you guys doing?”

“mom, did you get all the cards i sent?” jungkook calls from where he’s picked up hayoung’s carrier, looking for a good place to put her. next to him is their luggage, enough for a stay of two days. “all the pictures?”

“they’re up on the fridge, i just love looking at them,” mrs. jeon gushes. “every time my friends come over to play go i show them my adorable granddaughter and tell them that my son is living in seoul with a wonderful, respectable husband, living a content life! oh, jungkook-ah, look at you, you’re glowing! happy, are you?” she puts her wrinkled hands on his face and jungkook touches them with one palm affectionately.

“i’m happy,” he says, and yoongi’s heart skips a beat at how he says it; dreamily, a smile pulling at his mouth. “i’d be more happier though if i could eat, mom. i’ve missed your cooking.”

“first i think i need a hug,” mr. jeon raises an eyebrow, and jungkook leaves hayoung with his mother to hug his father and receive a fond head pat in return.

“there’s my baby boy,” mr. jeon shuffles, scoffing when jungkook whines that i’m not a child anymore, dad! “you’ll always be my baby boy. you have a daughter, jungkook, you should understand.”

jungkook huffs, but doesn’t make a big deal out of it. he takes yoongi’s coat when yoongi’s done taking off his boots and asks, “where’s hyung?”

mrs. jeon makes a tittering sound. “he’s probably in his room, sleeping. he came back from the army two days ago and his sleeping schedule is all messed up, i have no idea when it’ll be okay! oh, oh - i think jimin’s mom is coming over tonight for dinner, make sure you call him and tell that silly boy that if he wants to eat good food he should come home more often,” mrs. jeon prattles before rushing to the kitchen.

“will do, mom,” jungkook calls. “hayoung is sleeping, so i’ll just leave her here for now,” he tells yoongi, who nods in understanding.

“c’mere, son,” mr. jeon ushers yoongi forward, patting him on the back. “let’s go get us some coffee. you can tell me how you’ve been doing and how fatherhood has treated you so far - my son says everything is well and good whenever we call, but i know he’s just saying it to not make us worry.”

yoongi covers hayoung quickly and follows his father-in-law to the kitchen, where there’s a pot of coffee already brewing. although he doesn’t think he’s going to say much originally, yoongi finds that there’s actually a lot on his mind as he spills out all the troubles he’s been having so far; not feeling close to hayoung, her sleeping problems, just little things he thought weren’t very important but weighing on him the very same.

“hm,” mr. jeon says. he puts cream and sugar in yoongi’s cup, just the way he likes it. “well, i have some advice - i don’t know how much it’ll work for you, because every child is different, but it can’t hurt to try, right?”

he recounts how jungkook was the same as a baby, always fussy unless his mom was around and refusing to sleep through the night until he was nearly a year old. the doctor said that most kids didn’t usually do that and could fall asleep through the night by then, but then the problem smoothed itself out and jungkook was sleeping normally soon enough. yoongi feels a sense of calm wash over him at his father-in-law’s voice; mr. jeon has a way of talking that is gentle and firm at the same time, like an anchor. yoongi has felt so lost due to not being on speaking terms with his own father, but that's another story for another day. the jeons own a tiny bakery that mr. jeon deals with every day. jungkook has told him multiple times that his father works with the ethic of talking over a good meal solves everything. so far, yoongi is inclined to agree with him.

their conversation, switching to things like baby stories (stuff that yoongi never gets tired of) is cut short when jungkook drags out his older brother from his room. junghyun looks more like his father, with the same facial features and build. he’s a little taller than jungkook, hair still cut short from his discharge, and he looks much more solid than he did the last time yoongi saw him. it looks like he’s been working out.

“there the prodigal son is,” mr. jeon remarks. junghyun groans once and then tickles jungkook’s side to get him away from clinging onto junghyun’s arm.

“so mean, hyung,” jungkook complains, pinching his brother’s bicep.

“argh, what an annoying kid,” junghyun ruffles jungkook’s hair. “i was sleeping. ah, hyungnim, you’re here too!” he nods at yoongi, who gives a little wave.

“where is my niece,” he looks around. “where is she, i want to see how big she is in person.”

with a start, yoongi realizes that junghyun hasn’t seen hayoung at all - only pictures of her. around five months after he and jungkook got married, junghyun was sent overseas. yoongi stands up and motions for jungkook to take his spot. “i’ll get her - she should be awake by now anyway, she slept all of the ride here.”

hayoung’s a little grumpy at being woken from her nice nap, but she’s much more cheerful and touchy and doesn’t mind when yoongi holds her to his chest and brings her over. he’s carrying her in one hand while fixing her slanted cap in the other, keeping her little ears warm.

when junghyun sees her, yoongi knows he’s made the right decision. he looks like namjoon did when he first saw hayoung; in utter awe of her size, the way she curls her fingers in the air, marveling at how small of a being she is. unlike namjoon, though, junghyun looks like he’s found something that he’s been looking for all his life.

“don’t get her anything, though,” jungkook warns from where he’s nursing a cup of warm milk for himself. he doesn’t drink coffee all that much, which yoongi finds strangely endearing on him but would have found pretentious on anyone else. “she’s already spoiled enough as is - mom tries to get her stuff and jimin-hyung buys anything and everything for her. i don’t think i’ve bought her a toy myself in months.”

“it’s one hell of a saving,” yoongi snorts, and laughter ripples among everyone.

“okay, i won’t,” junghyun promises, but the look on his face says that he’s going to break that promise very soon.

/

it’s an odd feeling, having free time. yoongi isn't sure if he likes it, entirely. jungkook is nestled in the crook of his shoulder and they’re watching some drama, although the term “watching” can be subjective. it looks like jungkook’s just enjoying his warmth, taking any chance he gets to bury his nose in yoongi’s sweater and warm his chilly nose there; he barely moves except for the slow up and down of his chest.

yoongi knows that he’s comfortable. they’re not bothered by the sound of crying, of wailing, not bothered by the constant need to watch over their daughter and it’s...nice. it’s late at night, too, and mrs. jeon is with hayoung - being generally grandmother-like and kissing her cheeks, changing her diaper, feeding her as a way of giving a nod “to the good old times” of childrearing, and mr. jeon has already gone to sleep. junghyun, too, is knocked out in his room.

yoongi runs a finger down jungkook’s arm, suggestive enough for him to get the hint. jungkook raises an eyebrow and seems determined to ignore him, however, if the way he takes yoongi’s hand into his own and stops his fingers is any indication.

he tries another tactic: yoongi leans down and ghosts his lips across the shell of jungkook’s ear. “i miss you.”

sure enough, jungkook’s breath quickens. yoongi can feel little goosebumps on his skin. “i’m right here,” he replies, but yoongi can see right through him - he sounds breathy and shaky.

yoongi kisses his temple. “i know you are,” he says meaningfully, squeezing jungkook’s shoulder. “want to take it somewhere else?”

“we’re in my parent’s house,” jungkook laughs, surprised at yoongi’s audacity, but yoongi only shrugs.

“i’m pretty sure your parents know how children are made, jungkookie.”

“oh my god, ew,” jungkook cringes, “secondly - why would you say that so loudly - “

“i just miss you,” yoongi finds that it’s stupidly, incorrigibly true. he misses the way jungkook curls into him and his palms and he misses jungkook’s thighs around his waist, his mouth, his wrists.

jungkook melts into him before making a choked, needy sound. “we need to go.”

/

“hey, hey,” taehyung frowns, slapping away hoseok’s hand as he tries to take a bite noodles from his bowl. “don’t you and jungkookie have your anniversary around this time, hyung?”

“jungkook and i had a spring wedding,” yoongi says absentmindedly, “april 21st. why?”

“no, i mean like - didn’t you guys start dating around this time? like, i remember, it was the beginning of the semester when you guys starting dating, right? around november?”

“i suppose so,” yoongi grumbles. the memories are fuzzy in his head.

“wow, how many years is that now?” taehyung marvels.

“i think it’d be about six years they’ve been together now, right?” hoseok says, giving a good approximation. yoongi nods. it’s just the three of them in the noodle shop, and hoseok is treating. yoongi doesn’t mind - he’s gotten a little less work recently, and he’s gotta save the money for food and other necessities.

“i wonder if any of us will find a love like that,” taehyung sighs. he puts a hand underneath his chin and looks like he’s staring off into the distance. hoseok steals from his bowl. “i mean, do you remember yoongi-hyung back when i was in college? he was so grumpy, and he was an to everyone he met - “

“didn’t give a about anyone at all, other than namjoon,” hoseok agrees, his cheeks puffed up with the food in his mouth. while yoongi would not have been bothered once upon a time, he crinkles his nose up in disgust now.

“- and then he met jungkook and everything changed. isn’t that romantic, hyung?” taehyung pushes hoseok when he notices half his bowl gone. “aish, hoseok-hyung!”

“you can eat from mine, no worries. food tastes better when you eat someone else’s, just sayin’,” hoseok grins. “it was love at first sight, wasn’t it? he didn’t tell me for the longest time that he was dating, what a rude hyung. then again, yoongi was really different back at school.”

“i think you’ve mellowed out since you’ve gotten married, hyung,” taehyung tells yoongi seriously, his eyebrows furrowing. “like, if we were still in college, you would have thrown food at me or smashed a cup in my face or something and gotten us kicked out of the restaurant by now because you’d be so pissed off.”

yoongi twitches, gritting his teeth. though he won’t admit it, maybe jungkook’s had a bit of an influence on him. doesn’t mean he isn’t as intimidating as he once was, though. “if you don’t shut up, i’ll stick these chopsticks up somewhere the sun doesn’t shine, kim taehyung. let meeat.”

taehyung pouts. “maybe you should have gotten married earlier.”

hoseok pats him on the shoulder commiseratingly. “don’t worry, tae-ah, rome wasn’t built in a day. give it a few years and you’ll see yoongi will a food belly and incapable of getting angry with all the sunshine that is his husband and child.”

“jungkook’s gotten a little scary, though,” taehyung muses out loud. “like, he’s really nitpicky about being clean, right? back in college, even though we got things dirty, he was always really patient and would just sigh and clean it up himself - now he’ll snap at me.”

hoseok pauses, looking wide-eyed at taehyung, before gasping overdramatically. “they’re rubbing off on each other! yoongi is becoming calmer and jungkook is becoming angrier!”

“jungkook can’t become a tiny ball of angst, hyung, he’s too energetic for that!” taehyung cries.

“i don’t think i’ll survive if yoongi smiles as much as kookie does,” hoseok states, looking spooked. “oh my god, yoongi-hyung - “

“could you two idiots please shut up.”

“hyung, this is a serious matter!”

“hyung!”

/

at the beginning of december, hayoung is eight months old. she crawling well by herself now, using her tiny arms and legs to go anywhere and everywhere.

jungkook has taken to decorating the house with warmer colors and tinsel in preparation for december. he saves up money on snacks for christmas dinner in advance and buys hayoung a red winter coat. he dusts off his piano and sets away his guitar, setting it up in the living room against the wall; it’s a neat, small, and black yamaha, something he saved up for himself. he tunes it with focus and leaves hayoung sitting on the couch to run his fingers over it reverently.

there’s something special about winter to jungkook, yoongi knows this much. he loves the snow, the cold, the search for warmth. he thinks there’s something magical about winter. yoongi likes the way jungkook’s nose gets red and the way he burrows into yoongi’s hold at night.

jungkook looks more alive with the snowfall, like it’s energizing him. he looks at the frost outside their bedroom window and presses fingers against it, leaving behind his hand print. hayoung is at his feet. yoongi’s just come home, a fact jungkook hasn’t noticed yet.

“your papa doesn’t know why i love snow so much,” jungkook begins, talking to his daughter. hayoung looks up at him, adoring. “he thinks it’s too cold, and too wet, and too much work. but i love winter, hayoungie - it’s so beautiful at night, even when all the leaves are gone and the flowers don’t bloom. the whole world is white and clear, and it feels like even when we’re in trouble, everything’s okay because there’s a clean slate, right there, right outside.”

he pauses. the sound of his breathing and the wind hitting the window is the only thing yoongi can hear.

“did you know, hana,” jungkook reaches down to pick her up and wrap her in his sweater as she sits in his lap. “did you know that your father and i fell in love during this time? sure, we started dating before that, but i realized i was in love right when winter ended. your father and i, we were going through tough times, and it almost seemed like it was going to be the end of us. then spring came and i missed your father like a vice. i think it was then when i realized that life without him seemed too cold for me to handle - i was okay in winter because he was there to warm me up.” he runs a hand down her forehead. jungkook looks lost in thought, his legs bent at an angle to fit in the window ledge, and yoongi feels like there’s something lodged in his chest.

“your father was such a cold man back then...i didn’t even realize that myself until i became closer to him and saw how much he shut out other people,” he continues quietly. even though she doesn’t understand, hayoung is enchanted by the sound of jungkook’s voice, like he’s a storyteller weaving a tale. he makes their own love story sound charming, like a fairytale. “never letting anyone else in because he’d been hurt too much. i loved him with all i had, and even then, it didn’t seem like enough,” jungkook smiles sadly.

“but he’s got a heart like fire, i promise you. when you’re older, you might wonder why he does the things he does - why he doesn’t show his affection easily, why he doesn’t give everything away. you’ll be luckier, because from the first moment he saw you, he loved you. you opened your eyes and i saw; you captured his heart. when you get older, you’ll ask him things, hana. he may not be able to answer you the way you want him to, but i’ll tell you this story each and every year, as many times as you need me to, just to remind you how much he loves you; how much of his heart is yours, already, even with the smallest smile.” jungkook presses a soft kiss to her forehead. “grow up well, okay?”

yoongi forgot how winter also made jungkook contemplative. his heart is hammering loud and wild in his chest, and he wonders - not for the first time- if this is what it feels like to be in love even after so many years.

/

two weeks into december, jungkook puts up stars over hayoung’s crib. they match the mobile taehyung bought her months ago. they glow in the dark, shiny silver and green, and she’s always in wonder of them when they’re put up there. she reaches up her little hands, reaching for the stars, grabbing the illusion of them between her fingers.

jungkook plays the piano more often; yoongi comes home from work to see jungkook playing old pieces, some of them yoongi wrote himself when he was younger and throttled in the hold of infatuation. before, when he played it, they sounded childish and far-reaching. when jungkook plays them, his fingers draws out grace from between the notes. they fly in the air and create harmony bounces off the walls, somehow sounding soulful and mature. the songs seem like a different entity entirely.

he kisses yoongi often, a kiss to his cheek and a kiss to his forehead and a kiss to his shoulder. he looks up at yoongi through his bangs and his lips pull up into moonlight crescents. he’s beautiful, yoongi thinks, his lungs thudding loudly in his chest. he’s beautiful, he’s beautiful, he’s beautiful.

snowflakes get stuck in his hair and on his lashes when he reaches out the window, staring at awe at the snow falling. when he comes inside, it looks like he’s decked in crystal. he looks otherworldly, ethereal, like a celestial being from the heavens.

then he kisses yoongi and his mouth is cold, sweet, and yoongi raises palms to cold cheeks in an attempt to make the blood rush to his face. he becomes painfully, startlingly, beautifully human then.

hayoung giggles from her crib and reaches for the stars.

/

jungkook stares down at the list he’s made, looking far too upset for someone who has decided what to do and by when all by himself. yoongi takes a sip of his coffee and then makes a cup of hot chocolate for jungkook, who is tearing his hair out at his list.

“you know,” he starts conversationally, “we don’t have to have a get together here. we can have it at jimin’s place or something.”

“i know,” jungkook mutters. “i didn’t want it here, originally - there’s going to be so much to clean up afterward...but i figured that hayoung deserved to have her first christmas be a big blowout. all of our friends, family,” jungkook leans his head on yoongi’s shoulder, leaning down a little, accepting the cup of hot chocolate. “a nice first memory. mom, dad, and hyung are driving up to spend the night, and taehyung is bringing the girl he’s dating, and there’s just so much people,” he huffs. “i’m not that great with people.”

yoongi snorts. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed, babe, but i’m not stellar at human relations either.”

“yeah, but on you it’s cute,” jungkook laughs. “on me, it’s just pathetic.”

“i think you’re looking at this in reverse,” yoongi says doubtfully, because what?

he watches as jungkook fiddles with the handle of his hot chocolate and briefly steps out of yoongi’s hold to start up hayoung’s automatic rocker. the sounds of tchaikovsky fills the room as she sleeps. he returns back to his place next to yoongi, a warm line next to his arm. “you’ve always been so blunt, and honest,” he sighs. “i never have been. i keep everything in instead of saying it out loud.”

“i dunno,” yoongi starts, “you never hesitate to yell at me to throw my dirty underwear in the laundry bin.”

jungkook nudges him. “you know what i mean.”

yoongi thinks back to jungkook at the window, an image he’s sure will be burned into his memory for the rest of his days. he looks at jungkook now, and his untraditional beauty, at the scar on his cheek, at the pale pink of his bottom lip.

he thinks about jungkook and you opened your eyes and i saw; you captured his heart. yoongi didn’t give his heart to hayoung; jungkook did. he gave yoongi’s heart to hayoung, only because he was in possession of it first. yoongi has always been helpless.

he clears his throat and puts their foreheads together. “i’ll buy all the food - all the brands you want me to buy, i’ll even double check at the store - and you’ll make pudding and kimchi stew and we’ll make hot chocolate for everyone except for namjoon. your older brother will glare at me and try not to because he thinks i’m not good enough for you - “

“that was a long time ago; he likes you now! he calls you hyungnim now, for god’s sake - “

“ - and jimin will take pictures and you’ll get the tiniest bit tipsy because i’ll get a nice bottle of champagne, or your dad will bring some, and then you’ll start playing on the piano. some random, classical song, because you only play classical songs when you’re tipsy. your parents will sleep on the futon you'll bring out and hayoung won’t wake us up at night for once. sound good?”

“i think that’s the most you’ve said to me in a year,” jungkook teases, but he breathes out and shifts the list of food items and chores over to yoongi. “sounds good.”

“good,” yoongi drawls, using his fingers to tickle jungkook in the ribs, grinning when the love of his life laughs and bites his lip so he won’t wake up their daughter.