“Are you insane?” Sehun’s voice comes loud and clear across the walls of their small apartment. No matter how many times the landlord threatens to throw him out, Sehun doesn’t understand the concept of quiet nights and not disturbing the neighbors.

Jongin sighs and ignores the question, opting to continue getting ready in the tiny bathroom. Earlier, he stopped by the store and bought a bottle of wine to bring as a gift. He also ironed his best dress shirt and put on his least washed-out jeans. Now if only his hair would cooperate, he could get going.

“Kim Jong In.”

Jongin cringes. It’s not often Sehun calls his full name without westernizing it. He gives up on his hair—no way to tame the curls—and walks out to find his friend seated lotus-style on his bed.

“Talk,” Sehun says. “Explain. Now.”

He’s not even 100% sure of why he did it, but the mix of reasons that contributed to his mental slip comes rushing out of his mouth anyways. “I sit in a booth every day. I work every holiday. I come home to this empty apartment because you’re rarely here. And now the family of the handsome man who I’ve been pining for, for months wants to include me in their Christmas celebration plans when I have no family or plans of my own.” Jongin grabs the only tie in his closet before continuing. “So I said yes. And if that makes me a raving lunatic, then so be it!”

Sehun stares at him with his eerily dead face, the one Jongin had had nightmares of