For New Years, Yixing would wander around whatever house or venue the party was at, with a paper hat on his head, the numbers of the new year sparkling across it. If he had a drink in his hand, his other arm would be around Yifan's waist as he cried out with everyone else to bring in the new year. If he was sober, he would wrap his arms fully around the taller man as couples around them kissed past midnight; they were both always too shy to commit to connecting their lips. Though, as they stared into each other’s eyes, fireworks from outside the window reflecting in the deep brown, they felt closer than a kiss could have brought them.
 
 

   
  On Valentine's Day, the bakery would be decorated in red and pink and white streamers, with paper hearts stuck to any surface Yixing could manage. Anything that was out of reach was covered by their main barista, Tao, who would only continue the decoration with an hour of pestering from his short boss.
 


  Yixing would gift a red rose with every purchase, a smile and a "Enjoy whatever love is in your life" on his lips for each customer. He would give a small heart of chocolates and a kiss on the cheek for all his friends, and Yifan felt his heart twist around his ribs whenever the man's lips met his skin; he swore Yixing had pierced him with Cupid's arrow, and the wound stung whenever he found Yixing pulling away with a blush tinging his tanned cheeks. When Yixing pulled away, each year, Yifan longed to push him closer again, to kiss him fully on the lips, but all he could do was smile sadly at the cardboard heart in his hands.

  When Halloween rolled around, Yifan was always forced into acting at the haunted house Yixing set up each year. Yixing was always ready with a homemade costume and a bucket of sweet treats for the children in his neighborhood, and was willing to give the leftovers to his friends, if they asked. Yifan would have his face either hidden by a mask or painted in makeup, all by Yixing’s hands. As Yixing held his chin in place, with a stick of eyeliner in his other hand, Yifan would jut out his lips. When the younger’s eyes wavered to his plump lips, Yifan let a smile rest on his face. “You’re not supposed to be cute,” Yixing would chastise, “You’re a zombie.”
 


     
  The night would end with Yifan, Yixing and their three friends sitting in Yixing's darkened living room, a horror movie lighting up their faces. While Tao forced Lu Han to hold his hand where they sat on the floor, and Jongdae curled up on the arm chair in the corner, Yixing and Yifan found themselves alone on the couch, a blanket covering their laps and shielding away their clasped hands.

  While the bakery was decorated in a mess of tinsel, paper snowflakes and green and red colors everywhere, Yixing's office in the back was empty of any festivity. It was during the Christmas season that Yixing didn't greet every customer with holiday wishes, didn't decorate the store, and didn't invite himself to any event a friend was planning. Instead, the bakery owner hid himself away in the dim lights of his office, only coming out occasionally to get a cup of tea.
 


     
  Even with his seasonal reclusive nature, Yifan was at the bakery on a daily basis. He had decided, to be at peace with himself, it was worth it to come every day after working, even if he could see Yixing for half a minute, and even if the younger man seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face during the holidays. Yifan decided he was in love with any face Yixing threw his way. Though, it was the look that met Yixing’s face when he came into the obnoxiously bright bakery in search of the drink counter that made Yifan’s heart contract. Specifically, it was how the younger man looked so upset and disoriented until his gaze landed on Yifan, and his face shifted into one of pure joy; one that Yifan thought was fit for the Christmas season. The young man settled in the seat across from Yifan, his small hands encasing the pristine white teacup and taking all of the heat of the green beverage into his skin. “Hello,” Yixing greeted, lifting the cup to his lips, and he jumped slightly as the scorching liquid attacked his sensitive tongue. The pink appendage stuck out between his plump lips, and all Yifan could want was to kiss it better.

  “You’re finally out of your cave,” the taller man joked, abandoning his half-eaten crescent for blowing on Yixing’s hot green tea instead. “I come here for you,” he said between puffs of breath leaving his lips, “It’s a little disappointing when I walk in and Lu Han tells me you’ve been in your office since opening.”

  Yixing shrugged his shoulders, but the movement barely affected the rest of his body. He took the cup back from the other with a sigh. “I just don’t feel a need to be out here all the time.”

  “The eleven other months of the year say otherwise.”

  The younger shot him a glance as he sipped his tea, leaning back in the metal wired chair. “I just don’t care about Christmas. There’s nothing more to it, really.”

  Yifan put a hand up in defense, shutting the book on the table he had been reading whilst waiting for Yixing. “Okay, I know. You don’t like Christmas,” he stated with a shallow sigh to follow it. He caught the unfocused look of Yixing’s eyes almost instantly, the younger holding the cup against his mouth but not taking a drink. “Are you feeling okay, Xing?”

  The use of the nickname knocked Yixing out of his stupor, and quite literally knocked surprise into him, the green tea hitting the edges of its confines and slapping at Yixing’s delicate fingers. He almost threw the porcelain to the table, pushing his chair out to stand. “Are you okay?” Yifan repeated, eyes wide as he looked up at the bakery owner.

  “I’m just in a bad mood. And it burned my hand, which isn’t making me feel any better,” Yixing muttered, rubbing the knuckles on his hand before pulling his sweater sleeves over his fingers.

  “I’m so-”

  “I’ll see you later, okay?” he said quickly, interrupting Yifan with a kiss pressed to his cheek. It immediately shut the tall man up, and he only watched in silence as Yixing retreated back to his office. The heat of Yixing’s lips was quickly replaced by the blood rushing into Yifan’s cheeks, and he let out a whine deep in the back of his throat as he tipped his chair onto the two back legs. “I can’t believe you two,” Lu Han said from the counter, where he was loading fresh pastries into the display case. When he stood up, he threw a look at Yifan, “Like, you know you can date, right? You’re adults.”

  “I just haven’t found the right moment to ask him,” Yifan muttered, letting the chair slam down onto the linoleum tiles of the floor. He startled himself with the loud bang. “Obviously December isn’t his best month.”

  “Literally all you would need to do is kiss him, and he’s yours, Yifan.”

  Yifan crossed his arms, kicking his feet onto the seat that Yixing previously inhabited. He let Lu Han’s words float around his head for a moment, letting them settle in his ears. His heart wanted to take the suggestion and put it into action, to storm into Yixing’s office and push him against the wall with a ravishing kiss. His brain, his common sense, on the other hand, was telling him to trash any idea Lu Han plotted. He needed his own plan to ask out the man that filled his whole life.

  ❅

     
  “Do you bring gifts and joy to all the good girls and boys?” Lu Han sang obnoxiously loud as the bell on the front door jingled, allowing Yifan to enter the bakery. His blue scarf was suddenly deathly warm, but all he could do was glare at the shorter man and pull a wrapped box from the bag in his hand and chuck it at Lu Han. The elder miraculously caught it and immediately began ripping at the plaid red paper, even before Tao and Jongdae received their own. “You remembered!” Lu Han cried out, holding a green and gray striped scarf to his chest, the word SLYTHERIN knitted into it. “You’re such a good gift-giver, Yixing’s lucky to have a boyfriend like you-”

     
  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Yifan called out, his face as red as the Christmas decorations around him. The smirk on Lu Han’s lips just made his flush of embarrassment turn into one of annoyance.

     
  “Did you get him a present?” Tao asked, “Because he’s not gonna accept it.”

     
  “I didn’t get him a physical gift.”

     
  “Are you finally going to kiss him?” Lu Han perked up.

     
  Jongdae raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lu Han, “Weird, I thought Christmas was very physical-”

     
  “Shut your mouth,” Yifan groaned, slipping into the hall that led to the restrooms, kitchen and Yixing’s office. He knocked once, and was met with the flushed face of the bakery owner, the heat of the office seeping out and attacking Yifan’s legs, even through his thick jeans. “Hi, Yifan.”

     
  “Are you doing anything for Christmas?” the elder said, not catching his words until they were out in the air.

     
  Yixing’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, you know I’m not.”

     
  “I’m going back to Guangzhou next week, to see my family for Christmas and Christmas Eve,” Yifan took in a breath, hesitating when Yixing’s arms crossed over his chest, “Please come with me. I don’t want you to be alone on Christmas. Lu Han’s going to Korea and Tao’s going to Qingdao and you-”

     
  “You don’t want me to be alone?” the shorter repeated.

     
  Yifan cleared his throat and gained his composure. “Yeah.”

     
  “Okay.”

     
  “Really? Just, okay? You’ll go?”

     
  “We aren’t open on Christmas day anyway. And, I’ve never been to Guangzhou.”

     
  Yifan felt giddy, he felt like a child running though a toy store with his allowance. He knew his lips were curved, his own gummy smile being met with Yixing’s deep dimples, the rare one on the left making its debut.

  ❅

     
  “What’s your family like? Who’s going to be there?” Yixing asked as he leaned his head against the seat, his eyes settling on Yifan’s. The elder man stretched his fingers out on his knees, though his longed to take the hand on the armrest into his own.

     
  “It’s not my immediate family,” he explained, glancing at the younger, “Other than my mom, it’s her brother and his wife, and their daughter.”

     
  “Your dad’s family doesn’t keep in contact with you, do they?” Yixing asked.

     
  Yifan shook his head, but couldn’t help the small smile that pulled his lips. When Yifan told Yixing about his childhood, and how his relationship with his father ended when he was seven years old with a nasty divorce between his parents, Yixing held Yifan’s hand through the sudden tears. He hadn’t told anyone how he felt about it, he hadn’t told anyone how much he despised his father for breaking his mother’s heart, and all the emotions fell onto Yixing’s shoulders. But, the shorter man was there for Yifan to cry to. He wanted to hear all of Yifan’s worries and anxieties, past or present. Yifan just hoped Yixing was willing to do the same. “My dad doesn’t have siblings, so there’s no one on his side to even care.”

     
  Yixing hummed and suddenly took hold of Yifan’s large hand, playing with the two rings on his middle and ring finger. Yixing’s pale fingers were so much thinner than his own, but the pads of each of them held a song. With years of piano and guitar, his otherwise soft hands ended in calloused fingertips, and it relaxed the nerves in Yifan as he felt them slide against his skin. “What are you doing?” Yifan asked in a whisper.

     
  Yixing’s hand slithered away, and Yifan regretted every word. “Sorry. Your rings looked cool.”

     
  Yifan looked down at his hand, one ring was a simple silver band with a braided design etched into it, while the other had a small centerpiece of a white, shining pink opal. He removed that one and took Yixing’s dainty hand, slipping it onto his ring finger. Yixing stared at his hand, moving his finger slightly, left and right, to watch the iridescent glow of the gemstone. It was a tad too big for Yixing’s skinny fingers; where it would sit on the knuckle of Yifan’s finger, it rolled around Yixing’s. When he turned to look at Yifan, the elder immediately looked away. “Why did you do that?” Yixing asked, his voice small.

     
  “Merry Christmas?”

     
  The sound Yixing made was similar to a sudden sob, and it pulled at Yifan’s heart, like a marionette being forced to turn his head. Yixing had a smile on his lips, painted on his face like a melancholy doll, and he watched the glittering effect of the opal ring.

  ❅

     
  The night was settling with a cold rush over their bodies, and all Yifan could hope for was his mother to open the door quicker. The sudden commotion from inside the home made Yifan smile, his eyes falling on Yixing just before the door opened. “Fan, I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” his mother said, a soft smile on her wrinkled features. When her gaze fell on Yixing, she hummed, “And I didn’t know you were bringing Yixing with you.”

     
  “It’s fine with you, right?” Yifan asked, following his mother inside and pulling Yixing’s arm to make him follow. “We’ll stay the night and leave tomorrow night, Ma.”

     
  “I never mind, Yifan, you can stay here whenever you’d like.”

     
  The living room was full of Yifan’s relatives already, just as the elder had described. A little girl was bouncing around, a Santa hat flopping on top of her long black hair. The dress she wore made her seem like an elf from the North Pole. The moment Yifan and Yixing entered the room, she was tackling Yifan’s legs in a hug. “Yifan’s here!” she sang.

     
  “I’m here with my friend, too, Shuya,” Yifan laughed, and the little girl immediately pulled her face away from Yifan’s black jeans to gaze up at the other man. “His name is Yixing.”

     
  Yixing waved at her, bending his knees to be at her height. “Hi, Shuya, is it?” he asked, and the girl seemed so amazed. Her eyes fell onto his right cheek, and Yixing could sense the statement that would come out of : “Your cheek has a hole!”

     
  Yixing laughed, standing up straight again, “It’s a dimple. It happens when I smile.”

     
  “It’s cute, right?” Yifan chimed, he had situated himself on the loveseat adjacent to a larger couch, where his aunt and uncle were sat. “Make Yixing smile often so we can all see his dimple more.”

     
  Shuya smiled brightly then, her two front teeth missing, along with one in the bottom row. “Okay, Yixing, you have to smile a lot! If you don’t, Yifan’s gonna be sad, and then I’m gonna be sad too.”

     
  Yixing looked over at Yifan, who was smiling gently. He shrugged his shoulders, and Yixing made his way to sit with him. He bowed his head to the older couple on the couch. “I’m Zhang Yixing, Yifan’s friend.”

     
  “We’ve heard a little about you,” Yifan’s aunt said, bowing her head back.

     
  “Yifan,” Shuya interrupted her mother, plundering onto Yifan’s lap, “Are you gonna decorate cookies with me and Auntie? Please?”

     
  “Can Yixing decorate one, too?” Yifan asked, his eyes moving sideways to throw a glance at the younger man. Yixing moved on the loveseat, his knees pulling together in an awkward stance. He turned back to look at Shuya, who was playing with the hem of his button-up shirt. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Yixing doesn’t like Christmas, can you try and make it fun for him?”

     
  Shuya looked at him with her thin eyebrows pulled together, and her lips pursed. She took a moment of turning her gaze back and forth between Yifan and Yixing, before she finally settled and nodded her head furiously. She hopped off Yifan’s lap and tried to pry Yixing off the sofa. “Yixing! Let’s decorate cookies with my Auntie!”

     
  Yixing shot a look at Yifan when he finally stood up, being pulled away into the kitchen, where Yifan’s mother was already setting perfectly baked sugar cookies onto a platter. The Christmas decorations that littered the foyer and living room and even leaked into the kitchen, the towels sitting on the edge of the oven’s handles displayed blue and silver snowflakes. Poinsettias lined the kitchen island, and even the mittens the older woman used to take the tray from the oven was colored in red and green. “Yixing, are you going to help her decorate them? I need to still make some dishes,” the mother asked, a full cut of ham going into the oven.

     
  Yixing glanced down a the girl, who was already settled on a tall stool at the island. She was pouring sprinkles onto a paper plate, the colors from two separate bottles mixing into a green and red rainbow. “I will,” he replied, sitting beside her. A tub of white frosting sat with a plastic knife in it, and Shuya shoved it towards Yixing.

     
  “Can you frost them Yixing? My mom says I shouldn’t use sharp things yet.”

     
  Yixing nodded his head, picking up a snowman shaped cookie from the counter. He dipped the knife into the frosting and covered the baked good in white, truly making a snowman worthy of the winter season. He glanced down at Shuya’s mess of sprinkles and smiled, putting the frosting covered cookie in the little specks of colored sugar. When he pulled it away, Shuya clapped. “That looks so cool! I never thought about doing it like that!” she sang, swinging her legs. “Can we make one like that for Yifan too? Then you can have matching cookies!”

     
  Yixing laughed and nodded his head, continuing with his frosting process. Shuya had insisted the snowman was for Yixing, and the snowflake with the same sugary design was for Yifan.

     
  Yixing thanked Yifan’s mother as she served their dinner, everyone around the table following in unison. Yixing stared down at the plate, a meal he had only seen in Western movies about the holiday he hated so much. The slice of ham fell over a clump of green pea and a mountain of creamy mashed potatoes, and he let Shuya know he would definitely eat what she called “a pile of snow”.

     
  “You haven’t had a dinner like this before, have you?” Yifan asked after a moment, Yixing almost coughing on the meat he had just taken off his fork. The younger nodded his head and glanced at the tall man.

     
  “My Christmas Eve never had a special dinner,” he replied, chasing a stray pea with his fork, “My grandma always cooked on Christmas.”

     
  “Western tradition, then, I guess,” Yifan said, leaning on his palm to gaze at the other. “We picked up a lot of traditions when my mom and I lived in Canada.”

     
  It seemed as if Yifan wanted to say more, but the elder was holding his tongue. Yixing could only assume what was on his mind; he wanted to ask Yixing what his traditions were. He wanted to know why Yixing cringed the moment December hit.

     
  Yixing just couldn’t bring himself to tell him.

     
  After the dishes were washed by Yifan’s mother and aunt, the eldest woman retired to her room. Yifan’s aunt and uncle followed soon after, insisting they needed to rest before Santa came down the chimney. It left Yifan and Yixing with Shuya in the living room, the small girl singing a song quietly to herself as she stared at the towering, green Christmas tree. She touched almost every ornament on it, to inspect each decoration, with the exception of the ones she couldn’t reach.

     
  From the sofa, Yifan and Yixing watched silently. The warmth of the fireplace could still be felt through the thick blankets bunched up at their legs, extra heat coming from their twisted limbs. It felt natural, in Yifan’s mind, with the way his arm rested over Yixing’s shoulders, keeping the younger close. Shuya’s interest in the Christmas tree had fleeted, and she crawled onto the couch next to her cousin, shuffling to get under the blankets with the elder men. “Is Yixing really just your friend, Yifan?” she asked in a voice so quiet, she was almost half asleep. The yawn that followed her words confirmed his suspicions.

     
  “What do you mean, Shuya?” Yifan asked with the same tone, shuffling next to Yixing but not letting go. The younger’s head was heavy against his shoulder, and it seemed he had passed out cold.

     
  “You’re so nice to him! You act like Mommy and Daddy.”

     
  A heat rose in Yifan’s cheeks, and he was positive it was not from the fire. He looked down at Yixing, whose eyes were shut tight with a slightly opened mouth, before looking back at the small girl. “No, we’re not married.”

     
  “So? You can love each other and not be married,” Shuya explained, dropping her head onto Yifan’s arm and yawning again. “Mommy said you have to date and love someone a lot before you marry them. Then you get to love them even more, forever.”

     
  “We’re not dating, either.”

     
  He could see the pout on his cousin’s face, even from the dim light of the fireplace and colorful bulbs on the tree. “But don’t you like Yixing?”

     
  “I like Yixing very much. I just never have had the chance to tell him so.”

     
  Shuya giggled, but another yawn cut her off. “Can you carry me to bed? Mommy said I’m sleeping with them.”

     
  Yifan nodded his head and gently lifted Yixing from his shoulder, making sure the younger man wouldn’t fall over in his sleep. He smiled when he heard a little noise come from the other, before picking Shuya up and bringing her to the guest room upstairs. He bid a good night to his aunt and uncle before he stepped down the stairs again.

     
  Yixing was watching him from the couch, a thick, knitted green blanket slung over his shoulders. He seemed to be shivering. “W-were you awake?” Yifan’s voice cracked, and he decided to play it off like he was shaking from the cold, as well.

     
  “No, I just woke up. It got cold,” Yixing whispered, immediately falling into the crook in Yifan’s side when the elder sat down.

     
  “I guess it was because I moved.”

     
  Yixing hummed and threw the blanket over Yifan’s shoulders as well, bringing them closer. Yixing’s feet were ice threw Yifan’s flannel pajamas, and he threw a look at the other. “Let’s go to sleep. You don’t mind that you’re sharing a bed with me, right?”

     
  “We’ve shared a bed before,” Yixing stated, standing up, holding his small hand out for Yifan to take; which, the elder gladly did.

     
  A high pitched squeal drowned in Yifan’s ears as he woke up on the cold Christmas morning, his blurry vision seeing a mess of black hair poking out from the blankets next to him. He could feel the heat radiating from Yixing’s body, the younger’s leg hooked over his own beneath the sheets. He poked where he knew Yixing’s dimple would appear--once, twice--until the little dip finally did. Yixing opened his eyes with a yawn, his body falling away from Yifan’s as he rolled onto his back. “Shuya’s awake,” Yifan whispered, “Which means we all have to wake up.”

     
  Yixing chuckled, and the noise was such a blessing so early in the morning. Yifan could only smile as he rolled out of bed, neither of them bothering to get dressed before going down to the living room. “I’ll make you coffee, okay?” Yifan said to Yixing, a hand pressing on the small of his back before the tall man disappeared into the kitchen.

     
  Yixing smiled shyly as he sat on the loveseat, watching as Shuya went through all the presents under the tree, digging out the ones that said her name. Yixing could only breathe again when Yifan came in, two mugs in his hand. He handed one to Yixing with a smile, sitting right beside him as Shuya began to rip open her presents.

  ❅

     
  It was just before Yifan and Yixing were leaving the house, standing in the foyer with their shoes barely on, that Shuya yelled at them. It wasn’t anger, it was something closer to pure excitement. She pointed above their heads, which caused both men to look up. “Mistletoe! Mistletoe!” the little girl sang. “You have to kiss!”

     
  Yifan felt his body run way too hot at that, staring down at Yixing with wide eyes. The younger matched him, with a red face to match the ribbon hanging the plant to the ceiling. Yixing looked like he was at a loss for words, which made Yifan clear his throat and pull Shuya closer to him, picking the girl up. “You’re under the mistletoe, do we have to kiss you now?” Yifan was relieved when Shuya agreed, but when he caught the look on Yixing’s face, the younger man still seemed distressed. Yifan turned his eyes away and smiled at Shuya, pressing a big kiss to her cheek, which elicited a squeal from her. Shuya turned to Yixing, expecting a kiss just as big, but she was met with a small peck. Yixing pulled his Vans on and walked out, with his suitcase behind him. Shuya was questioning the man the moment she was put down, “Is Yixing okay?”

     
  “I don’t know,” Yifan muttered, watching as the other walked down the path and to the car parked in the street, slamming the trunk once he put his luggage inside. Yifan turned to his family, who all seemed to be just as perplexed. “I’m sure Yixing didn’t mean anything bad. He enjoyed this. I promise,” Yifan swore before giving his mother and Shuya hugs, sending his aunt and uncle off with a wave before he followed in Yixing’s tracks.

     
  The moment he opened the door to the driver’s side, Yixing’s loud sob made him freeze. He stared at the other man in the car, who had tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, his fingers holding onto the opposite elbow. Yifan shut the door after he sat in his seat. “What’s going on?”

     
  “How could you do this to me?” Yixing cried, his voice cracking with his emotions. He sniffled and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

     
  “What did I do?”

     
  “I hate Christmas, you know that,” Yixing whimpered, falling to the side, letting his head rest on the cold window. “But this, this was all like it was when I liked Christmas. How could you, Yifan?”

  ❅

     
 
    Yixing winced as he saw another ornament slam down to the tiled floor. The red glass shined on the ground, until his father’s foot crushed it even more, taking a step closer to yell louder at his mother.
 

 
       
 
 
    Yixing hated having to spend holidays with his parents. It was unnecessary, he thought, for them to pick him up from his grandparents’ home just to bring him into a toxic fight. It would be better if they just stayed at work during the season, that’s where they practically lived, anyway. Yixing just wanted to spend time in the warmth of his grandparents’ home.
 

 
       
 
 
    It wasn’t until Yixing was ten years old that he finally got a say in where he wanted to spend his Christmas.
 

 
       
 
 
    His grandparents loved every holiday, but the moment December rolled around, the older couple took on a new spirit. Every inch of the home was decorated, from the yard to the bathroom, and Yixing loved every bit of it. He loved hanging the ornaments his grandma handed to him, he loved his grandpa lifting him to put the star on the tree, he loved seeing the man tying a bow at the end of the mistletoe string. Christmas with his grandparents was the best part of them raising him.
 

 
       
 
 
    The love his grandparents held for each other was the most inspiring part of Yixing’s youth. Though he knew it would never be a
 
  girl
 
    he would be falling in love with, even in his early days, he wanted a love like they held. The look on his grandmother’s face one Christmas Eve, when his grandfather gave her a ring of her birthstone, was everything Yixing hoped for. The look on his grandfather’s face the next year, when he was gifted with a similar ring of his own stone, Yixing wanted exactly that.
 

 
       
 
 
    “Grandpa!” Yixing giggled, pointing above his grandfather’s head before he left for work in the morning, his grandmother pressing the wrinkles out of his shirt. “Grandpa, there’s mistletoe! You have to kiss Grandma!”
 

 
       
 
 
    His grandfather laughed deeply and pulled Yixing into his arms, both of the boy’s grandparents placing big kisses on both of his cheeks. Yixing couldn’t be happier.
 

 
       
 
 
    Even after Yixing graduated and moved into his own place, he came every year for Christmas at his grandparents’ home; his childhood home. Every year, it was like the last, full of spirit. Yixing would never grow out of it.
 

 
       
 
 
    Until, Yixing was twenty-three, and his grandmother fell ill.
 

 
       
 
 
    Through the Christmas season that year, all they could do was take care of the sick woman, her hand clutching at her husband’s in the last puffs of breaths. She passed away three days before Christmas.
 

 
       
 
 
    Yixing was always convinced his grandparents were the perfect couple, that their souls were attached from the moment they were brought into the world. No matter how healthy his grandfather seemed at the time, he was meeting his wife in the clouds above the day after Christmas. Yixing was convinced you could die of a broken heart.
 

 
       
 
 
    No Christmas would ever meet the expectations of his childhood, not when his favorite people died so close to that day of joy. He never wanted to celebrate without the two people who loved the holiday so much.
 

     
  It wasn’t until after the plane ride home, and after settling down on Yixing’s plush couch, that the younger man finally gave Yifan a reason. His tears still fell, running down his cheeks and onto Yifan’s shoulder, Yixing’s breath hitching occasionally with a sob. Yifan didn’t speak, his hand just trailing down the younger’s back, letting his fingers slip under Yixing’s shirt when they got to the hem. “I miss them so much,” Yixing choked out into Yifan’s neck.

     
  “It’s okay, Xing,” Yifan whispered into his hair, letting his fingertips massage into his warm back. He pulled Yixing away slightly, bringing his free hand up to come his face. His chin was slick with tears, but he didn’t mind at all. “But, Xing, you can’t let that control your life. I’m sure you’ve heard it before, but you need to let it go. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss them. It means that you can be happy with the memories you made with them.”

     
  Yixing stared into his eyes for so long, Yifan feared he was going to break down again. But, the younger cracked a miniscule smile. He sniffled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Yifan couldn’t help but notice that opal ring was still wrapped around his finger. Yifan didn’t say anything as he took that hand, pressing a kiss to the ring before littering them down his finger. “Look at this, Xing,” he said softly, his breath warm against Yixing’s skin, “You said your grandparents gave each other rings with their birthstones,” he looked up from the white gem, letting Yixing look into his eyes. “Why don’t we carry on the tradition?”

     
  Yixing’s mouth opened, but he closed it again, looking down at the ring.

     
  “My birthstone is topaz, I’d love if you gave me a ring, Yixing.”

     
  With a weak chuckle, Yixing looked up at him again. “That almost sounds like you want me to propose to you.”

     
  “You have to date before you marry someone.”

     
  “I know,” Yixing whispered, his tears now completely dried on his face. He shuffled, bringing himself to sit in the elder’s lap. It warmed Yifan’s heart. “I heard Shuya say it. When you love someone, you date them. When you want to love them forever, you marry them.”

     
  Then, Yifan felt his heart freeze, just as his body did. “So… did you hear that whole conversation?”

     
  “I did.”

     
  “And what’s your opinion on that?” Yifan whispered, finding Yixing staring up at him. The lights from the muted television and the street outside the window made the dried tears on his cheek shine. Even with the insane thumping of his heart against his ribs, seeing Yixing in such a beautiful way calmed him.

     
  “I want to kiss you,” Yixing whispered back, and without any further comment, he leaned up and caught Yifan’s lips with his own. It was a better Christmas present than Yifan could ever imagine receiving, and he wouldn’t mind getting the same gift for years to come.