It’s the day before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even Jihoon.

“I’m not celebrating.”

“Oh come on hyung, it’ll be fun! “

“I have work to do,” Jihoon grumbles around the pen in his mouth.

He finds himself being dragged out of the house and shoved into the company car. It takes off before he has a chance to Seungkwan drags him from store to store, putting shirt after shirt on his small frame. Jihoon parries the endless barrage of nosy queries for his opinion, mind occupied with composing the next bars of his original composition for their first comeback of 2016. His fingers drum along coffee shop counters, escalator railings, display mannequins, itching to commit his music from memory to machine.

“Hyung.” He needs to keep it fresh. Maybe he can get the rap line to do some vocal this time.

“Hyung!” Speaking of switching parts, maybe he can get the members who know how to play instruments together and do a live band arrangement for Mansae. Joshua wouldn’t mind, and he could dust off his drumsticks…

“HYUNG,” Seungkwan’s slightly irritated and definitely irritating smiling face pops up in front of him, successfully throwing his train of thought off. Jihoon sighs again. Perhaps he should just give up on trying to work while he’s here and just focus on hurrying this trip along. So he waves goodbye the eighths and quarter notes dancing around his head and lets himself to be Seungkwan’s pack reindeer for the day. The day does indeed pass much quicker: soon they’re both wobbling their way back to the company car, Seungkwan laughing at the way his hyung looks, with bags hanging off his arms which are stacked so high with presents that he’s forced to walk sideways to see.

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The door is closed, his silencing headphones are on, and the low whirr of his Mac kicking into gear signals the beginning of a stunning new piece. Jihoon lets himself settle deep into his comfortable swivel chair, his eyes half closed as he waits for his composition program to load up his soundclip library. He’s bone tired from all the Christmas shopping: it feels like Seungkwan tied him to the back of Santa’s sleigh and his weary body has been trundled all over town for hours. He’s finally back though, and as he sits up straighter to rest his hands on his mixer and mouse, he can feel the familiar hum of anticipation at what magic he’ll create today.

Jihoon happens to look at the time in the middle of cropping a soundclip down: it’s already dinner time on Christmas Eve, but he’s got such a good thing going, so he ignores the rumbling in his belly to look over his work. It’s ready for recording: he might as well get it down now. Just a little bit more. The others understand when he gets in this kind of mood, and leave him alone. Except for, of course, the noisy brat.

Seungkwan charges into the studio with a plate laden with food just as Jihoon is about to record himself reciting some lines. There goes that recording… . “Ya… Seungkwan…what do you want,” is all he can really say as he takes his headphones off.  He might as well resign himself to the younger man’s insistent attention: he means well, but it was a little annoying with his timing.

 “Try some, hyung. Say Ah~” and a forkful of very salty looking turkey is forced into his mouth. Jihoon begrudgedly chews and swallows. There’s a hint of everything on it, creamy gravy mixing with sweet cranberry in a complex flavour that makes him close his eyes and think of home. Not thoughts he needs to be thinking about that will contribute to his work. Still, he enjoys it while it lasts, until the last of it slides down his throat and he opens his eyes.

“I’m not dead from eating it. Yay. Now get along, I have a deadline to meet.”

“I’ll leave your dinner here for you hyung,” the boy says cheerily ,ignoring his snippy behavior. Seungkwan is also careful to close the door quietly behind him as he leaves, and for that, Jihoon is grateful.

When he later comes to pick up the tray, Jihoon is curled up to one side of the keyboard. The dishes have been cleared off, and there’s a little bit of cranberry sauce on Jihoon’s chin. Seungkwan gently wipes it off with a napkin before tucking his own coat around the sleeping man and turning off the lights.

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Jihoon wakes up in the dark. His neck feels stiff, and he wonders what woke him from his peaceful nap. . He wasn’t supposed to nap. He wished he had that equipment he saw at the music store to work with: it would greatly streamline his production process. His studio door creaks as he heads towards the kitchen for a little snack to get him through the night. Maybe some more of that surprisingly good turkey, he is thinking when he stumbles headfirst into something big and red.

“What?” Jihoon stutters uncharacteristically, then recovers. It’s Santa.

Rather, it’s Seungkwan, dressed in a cheap Santa costume. He hasn’t got the beard, but the hat tipped with white pompom and the red furlined outfit is there. He’s dragging a huge sack of presents behind him. When he immediately puts a finger to both their lips and shushes Jihoon dramatically, loud enough to be more likely to wake people than Jihoon’s original stutter.

“Ho ho ho Merry Christmas little Jihoonie!” Seungkwan says, before Jihoon clocks him in the side of the head.
“This is what I get, eh? Well, I have something much nicer for you.” Seungkwan-Santa riffles through his sack, face all smiles, before drawing something out with a little “Aha!”.

 “Merry Christmas, hyung,” the laughing boy says, delicate hands wrapping his smaller ones around a small, oddly shaped box. Even with his eyes on Seungkwan, he knows exactly what is wrapped within, the curves and edges worn into his memory from weeks and weeks of cradling it longingly at the store, only to leave when the strangely forward clerks approached him. He looks down at the box within his hands, marveling at the weight of it, the reality of this present dawning on him.

“I saw how you kept going back to that display when we went shopping, so I got the members to pool together our money and get our Woozi producer –hyung a nice gift for all your hard work for us. “

He looks up, and Seungkwan’s face is a blur of bright lights and unbearably brilliant smile, the Christmas lights behind him forming an ethereal glow around him. Jihoon reaches a hand up to cover his eyes from the blinding sight, and realizes his face is wet. All the stress from pushing himself everyday, working himself to the bone so that his little family of 13 could be successful, all the while pushing them away when. His arms twitch, as he mumbles a thanks, his mind flooded with feelings that root him to the floor. As if reading his mind, Seungkwan sweeps him into a hug, and for once in his life, Jihoon squeezes back, putting his all into it.

Maybe Christmas isn’t so bad after all.