It starts on the morning of December 24^th.

Actually, scratch that.

It all starts one week prior to Christmas Eve.

December 18^th, a cold and crisp Thursday morning.

There’s a dull thud on the door that vaguely sounds like a kick.

Yoongi sighs from his comfortable position on the couch debating weather or not the incessant banging is worth getting up for or if it will go away on its own. When the banging does not in fact go away, Yoongi gets up with a defeated groan and pads across the room to answer the door; slightly annoyed and disgruntled (Because who the would kick their door? It’s brand ing new. If anything leaves a mark on the white paint he’s going to flip.) He flings the door open with a grumble, only to be met with boxes.

“What the ?”

“Good morning to you, too, hyung,” chirps a small voice from behind the boxes?

“Baby?” Yoongi voices his question out (nobody else Yoongi knew sounded that beautiful in the morning but his baby), taking the boxes (boxes that, definitely, honestly weigh much more than how they looked, wrapped in fruity colors of polka dots and stripes). “Why didn’t you call? I could’ve fetched you.”

The latter pokes his head from behind the boxes, the tip of his nose just a tiny bit pink and cheeks dusted red, from the cold, probably – it’s like, ing subzero outside and Yoongi really ought to scold the younger for not wearing enough layers – but Jimin gives him a peck on the cheek, bouncing a little on his feet to generate heat, even under three thick layers of coats and sweaters, and all is forgotten.

“Mhm, I took my car last night, no worries,” Jimin answers after unwinding his scarf from around his neck, and closes the door behind him, “were you okay by yourself last night?”

Last night.

Ah, yes.

Last night, Jimin had left Yoongi to his own devices because Seokjin, longtime friend of Yoongi and also adoptive mother of Jimin (no, Jimin is not an orphan and yes, his mother is still very much alive and healthy), had thrown a housewarming party on behalf of Yoongi and Jimin.

(How Seokjin became Jimin’s adoptive mother is a rather funny story. Once Yoongi had announced to Seokjin that he was, indeed, finally dating Jimin, Seokjin had almost immediately adopted Jimin. Going on to say that whoever Yoongi dated needed all the emotional support he could get. What with Yoongi’s alarmingly small emotional capacity and his inclination towards emotional constipation when operating on less than eight hours of sleep. And well, Yoongi couldn’t really argue with that because it was more or less true, despite him not wanting to admit to it.

Jimin actually calls Seokjin mom, it feels something like the Stockholm syndrome, except Seokjin hadn’t really held Jimin captive per se and Jimin willingly started calling him mom, and Yoongi sincerely doesn’t know if he should be amazed or terrified at the fact that his boyfriend calls the person – the same person he’s seen break down mid-finals back when they were still in college and shove a month worth of chips in his mouth – god forbid, mom.) 

Yoongi and Jimin had finally decided to move in together after five years of dating. They had thought that moving in wouldn’t make that much of a difference anyway; they’d already been living familiarly around and with each other that it had come to the point where one sock from a pair of Jimin’s would be found at Yoongi’s, and it didn’t surprise anybody anymore.

After spending countless nights sleeping at Jimin’s apartment, after Jimin began ‘accidentally’ wearing Yoongi’s shirts far too often for it to have been accidental at all. (Because Yoongi’s shirts smell just like him, even after laundry day, and you really can’t blame Jimin for wanting to always have the presence of Yoongi around to comfort him. Yoongi smelled exactly how you would expect, a hint of vanilla and strong peppermint.)

It was the next logical step in their relationship.

Suffice it to say, Seokjin had seized the opportunity for an excuse to eat like a pig. (Although with the way he eats on a daily basis, one would wonder why he really needed the opportunity in the first place.)

Jimin definitely didn’t drink. Compared to Yoongi who could hold his alcohol pretty well, Jimin is like a baby who’d start giggling and hiccupping after one half of a shot – yes, it is that bad (Okay, maybe Yoongi’s exaggerating just a bit, but). However, he would never say no to free food. Seokjin made sure it was only Jimin who’d go. He even exiled Namjoon (Yoongi’s longtime friend and unfortunate fiancé of Seokjin) just for the night.

How it had been called a “housewarming party” with only one of the house owner present and the house itself absent, Yoongi had no idea, but he knows enough not to ask Seokjin or Jimin that. It would all just be futile, really.

Yoongi had given Jimin the okay when he had asked a week ago. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a song that needed finishing as well, and he figured a night to himself wouldn’t hurt to motivate the process (although Jimin is his muse, he could very much do a night without him trying to squeeze himself between Yoongi and his computer. Whimpering and crying about how Yoongi is cheating on him with Karen, the computer; Jimin thought this was witty. Yoongi thought it was plain stupid, and it often made him question why he’d started going out with a complete idiot. Oh, yeah. That’s right, Jimin is an absolute angel, if not a little misguided; and honestly, it’s kinda cute, really ing cute how he gets jealous over a computer, but Jimin doesn't need to, and will never know that).

Yoongi balances the boxes while walking into their living room, gingerly setting them on top of the coffee table.

“Yeah, got to finish that song I’ve been working on, just needs a little tweaking then it’s officially done,” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders back, glancing at Jimin who is now wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s waist, resting his chin on top of his shoulder.

“Didn’t miss me at all?” Jimin pouts after a long yawn, his hair tickling the back of Yoongi’s neck. When Yoongi looks down at him, he has his eyes closed.

“Nope,” Yoongi deadpans, though he tilts his head to give Jimin’s temple a long, gentle ‘I really missed you a lot, I wish you were there last night for me to cuddle with’ kiss, “why do you sound so tired?"

“Taehyung.”

Ah, Taehyung. Jimin’s infamous best friend, known for his chaotic tendencies and idiosyncratic theories of how the world worked (including but is not limited to how a blender might work with rougher, spongier rocks than cold, smooth pebbles). Where Taehyung is, Jimin is sure to be as well. This however, also means that Jimin is almost always in or near trouble.

“He wouldn’t stop singing to BIG BANG, and talking about dolphins and their intelligence and humanity in his documentary voice.”

“Ah,” Yoongi nods, not even attempting to hide his grimace of pity as he tries to imagine how his night must have gone, “had fun though?”

“Mhm, we got to eat lots,” Jimin giggles into Yoongi’s neck (which tickles, really, it takes all of Yoongi’s control not to giggle as well.)

Peeling himself off of Yoongi, Jimin heads to their couch, dropping instantly and sinking into the comfort and warmth of the soft cushion, eyes lighting up once he notices the boxes, as if finally remembering their contents, “Oh! But they gave us gifts! Open ‘em!”

“You don’t wanna sleep first? Seems like you really need a nap, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi asks as he rounds the table and sinks into the couch beside Jimin. The younger makes a weird gurgling sound at the back of his throat and shakes his head, squeezing himself into Yoongi’s side.

“Nope, I’m good – now open ‘em! Open!”

Yoongi quirks his brow at how enthusiastic Jimin’s become all of a sudden, practically bouncing in his seat as if to emphasize the renewed energy. Shrugging nonchalantly, Yoongi turns to the boxes, pulling the box on top onto his lap, and delicately takes off the lid.

“They gave us gifts for the new house, you see!” Jimin grins and retrieves the lid from Yoongi to let him look through the contents.

Yoongi promptly snorts when he pulls out a brand new non-stick frying pan with a pink handle. He doesn’t even have to think to know who it came from.

“Mom!” Jimin supplies, as if Yoongi hadn’t already known.

The next thing he pulls out is a frilly pink apron with a kitty holding up a camera printed in the middle and a hugeass ‘Say Kimchi!’ slapped above it.

“Namjoon-hyung.”

(Yeah, right. Seokjin probably harassed the poor guy into getting this for them. Either that or Namjoon had finally caved to the pink craze and had, in fact, gotten this for them.)

Yoongi pulls out two pairs of boxers next. They’re cute, gray boxers with elephant faces printed on them. All big cartoony eyes, weird floppy ears and… an odd extension at the front where the nose is supposed to be.

“Wha – ?“

Jimin squeaks and snatches the boxers off Yoongi’s grasp, blushing profusely as he shoves the clothing under the cushion. “Taehyung!”

Yoongi had a vague idea of what that extension might have been for, but decides not to dwell on it if Jimin’s tomato face is any indication.

The rest are just random things (things that they absolutely could live without; but thanks for the thought anyway): Two pairs of Rilakkuma socks (Seokjin again), a five-pack of Banana milk with one bottle missing (courtesy of Jeongguk), and things Yoongi couldn’t figure out what they were for, exactly (he suspects from Taehyung and/or Hoseok).

When the box is finally emptied and items are all scattered around them, Jimin brightens up more, if it’s possible (Read: it is).

“Oh, oh. Hyung! Hyung, this is a gift from mom exclusively!” Jimin exclaims, taking the only box left on the coffee table, and shakes it in front of Yoongi with newfound enthusiasm, “so, you know how he’ll be holding a Christmas Eve party, right, and how it’s a Christmas-themed costume party, type, thing, whatever. Anyway! He said he made these especially for us and I saw it yesterday and it was so cute, hyung, we have to wear it.”

Jimin is practically flying off his seat now, gripping the box so hard that Yoongi is almost afraid of what’s inside. (Sometimes, Yoongi wonders if he’s dating a fully-grown, twenty-four-year-old adult, or a five-year-old.)

The thing that Yoongi didn’t know before Jimin had opened the box is that, he really, really should have been afraid.

It’s a Christmas Eve party, for Christ’s sake (pun intended?).

It’s a Christmas Eve party, so Yoongi doesn’t have any ing clue why he’s decked out on the patio of Seokjin’s house, wearing a – wearing a pastel blue knitted sweater with a ing gingerbread man on top of two candy-canes crossed embroidered at the front, and YG ♡ JM sewn at the back. (Jimin is wearing the same thing, although his comes in pink and has JM ♡ YG at the back instead). It’s horrible all the same.

“Come on, Yoongi, mom knitted these for us. We have to wear them,” Jimin whines through his nose as he nudges Yoongi who just wouldn’t budge. He finally pulls the big guns and pushes his lower lip out and oh, no. No. It would not work on Min Yoongi. Not this time. (Except it does. .)

“You mean Seokjin.” Yoongi grunts as he finally lets himself be ushered into the goddamn house.

Seokjin and Namjoon’s house is, well, their house is the house you’d regret moving you’d regret moving next door to by the end of the year, because of how they go all out every ing holiday. Valentine’s day? The front yard is filled with red lace, paper hearts are hung on trees, and there’s actually a ing glass bowl by the mailbox filled with heart-shaped lollipops for anyone to take. Halloween? Coffins made out from real wood are propped against the side of the house, cobwebs lined the fences, evil laughter rung every time you passed by the house. And for the Christmas season? Miniature statues of gingerbread men lined the pathway to the door, loud Christmas songs shaking the whole street, the smell of snickerdoodles strong even before you reach the door. Christmas lights everywhere. Tinsel. God, and fake snow. (If snow didn’t come early or at all).

“Exactly. Mom.” Jimin whispers harshly as they cross the threshold of the house and are promptly engulfed with loud, upbeat music and the mouthwatering aroma of Seokjin’s baking.

(Yoongi is downright terrified now and he doesn’t know if Seokjin has successfully manipulated his poor, gullible boyfriend into thinking that he really did, in fact, give birth to him. The situation at hand is really not making anything better.)

Right before they get to the living room, they pass by a huge mirror and Yoongi is stricken with horror. There they are. Wearing matching sweaters with matching reindeer headbands. (Green for Yoongi, red for Jimin.) If Jimin hands him a red nose to put on, he’s ing done. 

“Stop frowning so much, it doesn’t help that your hair is already green. Next thing we know, you’ll have turned into a full fledged Grinch.”

Yoongi swears if Jimin weren’t cute, if he weren’t Yoongi’s cuteass boyfriend, he would’ve already been murdered and thrown into the sea.

Seokjin looks pretty happy that they came wearing the sweater he knitted, if the giggle and the pat on the he gives them is anything to go by. (Yoongi suspects he’s already a bit tipsy on the wine though; he eyes the empty wine flute he has clasped in one hand). A happy Seokjin equals a happy Jimin, so maybe it hadn’t been a bad thing to wear the hideous sweater. And well, Jimin kinda looks okay in it.

Okay, fine.

Jimin looks ing adorable in it (but then again, when does he not?). He looks like a cute lil cherub that fell into Santa’s big red rucksack and came out Christmas-ified. He looks alarmingly cute and, okay.

Okay, maybe the knitted sweaters aren’t all that bad.

(Jimin looks really good in pastel pink.)

Two hours into the party and Yoongi officially loses Jimin.

Taehyung had walked into the house an hour ago screaming, “the party don’t start ‘til I walk in!”, then he saunters over to them and plucks Jimin out of Yoongi’s arm yelling, “Best friend bonding time! Later, Yoongs.”

Jimin glances back at him with crooked brows and a helpless grin, to which Yoongi replies with a one-shoulder shrug and a small smile, gesturing with a hand for him to go on. 

“See you later, babe!” Jimin calls out, and that had been the last Yoongi saw of his boyfriend.

Another two hours later (probably five cups of fruit punch, a plate and a half of whatever Seokjin baked in his kitchen, and ten dead conversations later), Yoongi is finally alone, occupying the whole couch in the living room when he finds Jimin.

Or, well, Jimin finds him.

(And the whole party finds him, too.)

“Yoooongi hyuuuung!” Jimin singsongs loudly (very loudly), from the banister as he approaches Yoongi, taking one unsteady step at a time down the staircase, both hands clutching the handrail as he goes; He’s uncharacteristically flushed and giggly. (Or, well, not really. Because Jimin is always kinda giggly, pink-cheeked; a ball of sunshine, truthfully).

Yoongi, with his brows creased and lips twisted into a concerned frown, pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to Jimin. Just when he’s about to reach the foot of the staircase, his phone rings. He pulls it out from his back pocket and groans.

Jeon Jeongguk 10:21PM

Hyung, tae gave jimin eggnog 

(Who even gets drunk on eggnog? Apparently, Jimin does.)

Jeon Jeongguk 10:21PM

Accidentally added too much rum tho

(Oh.)

Jeon Jeongguk 10:22PM

Tae says sorry

Jeon Jeongguk 10:22PM

Wait he just said he didn’t ‘accidentally’ added too much

Jeon Jeongguk 10:23PM

Also that he isn’t sorry lol

Jeon Jeongguk 10:23PM

Good luck, hyung

(.)

Yoongi doesn’t have enough reaction time and when he looks up from his phone, Jimin comes stumbling toward him like a toddler just learning to walk. Staggering backward with Jimin’s weight added to his, his arms automatically circle around Jimin’s waist, holding him up until they’re both steady before he hauls him off to the side where there’s less people and more wall space for him to lean on. The tip of Jimin’s nose and ears are tinged red, and he smells faintly of sugar and smoke. Yoongi sighs softly.

“Jim –“

“Guess what I have behind my back!” Jimin might as well yell at Yoongi’s face as he breaks into a beam, eyes a little too blissed out to stay focused at Yoongi. His arms twist to his back, hands fumbling with something.

“Baby, we have to get you home –“

 “No! You have to guess, hyuuuung!”

Yoongi bites back a groan, because his boyfriend is being both adorable and impossible right now. He blows at his fringe and slumps his shoulders back, crosses his arms, and gives Jimin a look, “I can’t guess.”

“Don’t give up now, come on, Min Yoongi,” Jimin doesn’t pick up the dead tone to Yoongi’s voice and furrows his brows, lips curling to a small, genuine pout. “Min Yoongi does not give up. Min Yoongi never gives up!”

(Even when drunk, Jimin still manages to be the most supportive boyfriend ever.) 

Yoongi can’t help but to chuckle, shaking his head lightly as he finally admits defeat to a drunk Jimin.

“Okay, okay, fine. Uh, a candy cane?”

“Nope!” Jimin giggles some more, clicks his tongue, and wets his lower lip quite exaggeratedly, “I wasn’t supposed to give it to you when, if, you get it wrong but eh. Ta-da!” Jimin holds up a (mangled) mistletoe he’s managed to produce from his pocket above their heads shakily, grinning a little bit wider, a little bit brighter, at Yoongi, “Now you gotta kiss me! Mistletoe rules!”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, bites back the amused smile slowly creeping onto his lips, and leans in to give Jimin’s forehead a kiss, to which the younger whines. Yoongi snickers and looks down at Jimin’s expectant expression; he decides to indulge him by peppering his face with kisses. One kiss on the tip of his nose. Two more on each cheek. Another two on each eyelid. Jimin giggles through them all, a soft contented sigh slipping past his lips; he still however purses his lips petulantly at the end.

“Euggh, hyung, don’t be a tease! You know where I wanna kiss you!”

“Kiss me? I’ve been doing all the hard work here, Park Jimin.”

“Right, oops. I’m sorry. Okay, okay. Okay, here I go. I’m going to kiss you. Now. Kiss you now,” Jimin hiccups, “On the lips, that is. Lips. Mouth. Nowhere else. Lips. Right! Focus, Park Jimin.” And so kiss his mouth, Jimin does. (It is very much Park Jimin to be giving himself a pep talk before kissing his boyfriend).

Jimin’s aim is quite a bit off and he only manages to kiss the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. He lets out an exasperated breath, plants his palms firmly over Yoongi’s shoulder, and tries his hardest to kiss Yoongi on the mouth.

He finally kisses Yoongi on the mouth. Then hiccups.

“C’mere, you,” Yoongi laughs against Jimin’s mouth when he hiccups again, then proceeds to snake an arm around his boyfriend’s swaying waist. “Let’s get you home, baby. You’ve got way too much Christmas spirit in you. Needta exorcise you or something.”

Yoongi is successfully able to carry Jimin quietly across the room and to the door, where he somehow manages to put Jimin’s shoes on for him, as well as his coat before Jimin wraps himself around Yoongi. 

“You’re sooo warm, Yoongi. It’s so nice, ugh.”

“I know, baby. You’re very warm too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay."

It’s quiet for a moment and they’re finally out the door and down the steps until Jimin starts again.

“So can we cuddle at home?”

Yoongi throws his head back as genuine laughter bubbles from his throat. When he looks back at Jimin, his eyes are shining and his cheeks are very, very pink, and he’s smiling so hopefully at Yoongi like he thinks that Yoongi wouldn’t want to cuddle with him. (Yoongi swears that there exists no dimension where Min Yoongi would ever not want to cuddle with Park Jimin).

(It reminds Yoongi so much of the nineteen-year-old Jimin he fell head over heels in love with five years ago; the innocence and the purity of everything that is Park Jimin.)

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

When they reach Yoongi’s car, he guides Jimin to the passenger’s seat. Jimin obediently slides in and Yoongi is just about to pull back to close the door when Jimin catches and tugs on his wrist, pulling him in for a kiss. (Well, at least, attempts to; he misses his mark by a whole inch and pokes Yoongi in the eye with his nose.)

“I love you so much, Yoongi. Merry Christmas.”

“I know, baby. I love you, too.”

 Jimin, even in his hazy, almost coma state, doesn’t miss the way Yoongi’s eyes twinkle with happiness and love.

+

When Yoongi gets into the car, twists the key into ignition and is already three blocks away from Seokjin’s house, Jimin tightens his fingers around Yoongi’s and stops him, looking at him with a dead serious gaze.

“Yoongi, I forgot something.” He whispers.

“What is it, Jiminie? Did you forget something back at Seokjin’s?” Yoongi asks, ready to make a U-turn around the next corner.

 “Yes – no, I didn’t forget anything back at mom’s house,” Jimin corrects Yoongi, and creases his brows as he tries to concentrate on Yoongi, vision blurry both with drowsiness and eggnog (that’s really more rum than anything else), “I forgot to tell you that.”

“That?”

“That I’m going to kiss you silly once we get home. Kiss you silly, I mean it.”

 It’s a good thing the streets are empty and Yoongi could afford to stay still in his lane, even when the lights turn green.

He spends five minutes wheezing in his seat, laughing his lungs out, and Jimin tries to prove his point by leaning up against him from his seat and peppering him with kisses all over.

(He may or may not have wrestled with the seatbelt for a few minutes before he got to.)

Yoongi and Jimin spend their Christmas in Yoongi’s car, with Jimin kissing Yoongi silly under a blanket of stars.

And yes, they do cuddle at home later.