Archive of Our Own

“..and it all happened, because of a little mistletoe.”

With this final line, the credits roll on a tawdry made-for-TV holiday movie. A jingly, overly produced Christmas pop song starts to play.

Ten dabbles with the color palette on his iPad, experimenting with the hue of his next stroke. Pink? Coral? No, no. Something bolder, more alive...

He chooses a crisp, sharp red, and makes a test stroke. Perfect.

Ten tunes out the end credits song, as he tuned out the film, and fills in his outline. He’s very satisfied with his night so far, so of course this is when things go south.

It starts when Yang Yang states, out of the blue: “You should really just confess, Ten-hyung," and snowballs from here. 

"Oh? What do you want me to confess?" He plays dumb.

Yang Yang turns down the volume. “Your feelings. Duh.” Ten can hear his eyes roll.

He cuts a glance at the young boy over his glasses. “Aw, I’m sorry baby,” he pouts sympathetically. “But you’re like a little brother to me.” 

His answering scowl is well worth the brief interruption. Ten snickers and returns to his artwork.

Yang Yang has always been a nosy kid, which Ten doesn’t mind. Honestly, he probably learned much of his behavior from Ten himself. But he tries his best to guide Yang Yang’s boundless, meddlesome curiosity to more appropriate targets. Like Win Win, or Kun. 

“Ha ha,” Yang Yang sneers with a terrible fake laugh. Ten smiles wider. “You know who I’m talking about. Are you gonna make me say it?”

Well, he certainly isn’t going to make it easier on him. He pretends to still be engrossed in his drawing, but the truth is the situation has escalated into an actual distraction. 

Yang Yang's glare burns against the side of his head, persistent like the world's most annoying itch. 

That little imp.

Ten clicks off his screen and throws his head back onto the couch. He has to pick his battles carefully, with the way this is going. Better to give in now, let the kid say his piece, and save his energy for the final fight.

“I don’t see how I’m making you do anything here, actually,” he sighs and closes his eyes. 

Where are all the nice little dongsaengs and didis he hears all the stories about, who do sweet favors for their elders and respect their boundaries? Where are the hyung perks?

Shotaro. Now there's a good dongsaeng. Maybe the managers would let them trade?

There’s a brief commotion on the other end of the couch. Ten cracks an eye open just as Yang Yang pumps a fist in the air and whisper-cheers. He closes his eyes again and contemplates astral projection.

“Okay, hyung!" Yang Yang shakes the couch as he fidgets around. “Should I say it for you then?”

Ten opens his eyes and stares at him.

Yang Yang swats the air and chuckles. “Haha, if you insist! I'm saying you should tell Taeyong hyung how you feel about him.”

Wow. The kid is fearless.

This is all Ten’s fault, isn’t it? Yang Yang turned out too much like him, strong willed and brazen, and now he'll never make a good dongsaeng.

Despite the twisted sense of pride this instills, tension pools in Ten's temples. He massages the developing headache, but like this horrible conversation: it's here to stay. "Why did I tell you about that?" he wonders aloud. "I must be crazy."

“Because I’m your favorite, remember?” Yang Yang answers, noisy as he clamors over the couch towards him and pokes him in the leg.

Ten slaps Yang Yang's foot away to convey his thoughts on this ludicrous statement.

Yang Yang hisses and withdraws. “Also, I knew something was wrong after you came back from filming MTopia all sad and lonely. It was kind of obvious.”

Ten skewers the boy with a deadly look. The insolence - it’s like looking in a mirror. Ten’s created a monster. “Why are you bringing this up now, hm?”

“Because it’s Christmas!” Yang Yang exclaims. “And you’ve liked him for - I don’t know, when did you guys film that show, anyway? July? So a few months?” Ten’s eyes bug out and he chokes back a shock of laughter.

Yang Yang is only picking up speed as he rambles, concluding with "- and how are you two ever gonna get together if you don’t tell him how you feel?”

Oh, this kid - if he thinks harboring a little crush for a few months is sad, what would he say if he knew the real truth? 

Not that he'll ever find out, because Ten is never telling Yang Yang anything ever again, for as long as he lives. He'll take his secrets to the grave.

“So what exactly are you suggesting, Yang Yang?” he prompts.

Yang Yang’s eyes glisten with unholy glee. “Well, I was thinking I could help you confess! It's perfect, everyone knows Christmas is the time for romance! And in all the movies I've seen lately-"

“ All of them?” Ten balks. “Is this what you’ve been using my Netflix for?” 

Yang Yang continues like he doesn’t hear him, "-friends play a key role in matchmaking for their single friends-"

“Baby, you’re single too. We're basically all single-”

"-and we'll set it up at the Christmas party! Like, I'll get the stuff! You know, uh - MISTLETOE! I'll get mistletoe and hang it up and you'll wait under it. And I'll bring Taeyong hyung over, and then I'll be all, 'Oh my god, look! It's mistletoe!' Gasp!"

“Good grief, cast him in a drama,” Ten mutters. “And what if someone else steps under it while I’m there? You’d have me kiss the entire group?”

Yang Yang waves this away. “Pft, you only act like you don’t like showing affection, you’re just like Louis.”

Ten bristles. “What- excuse you-”

“Anyway, then you two kiss under the mistletoe - after I run away, of course - and you can finally stop pretending you don’t like each other!” Yang Yang claps his hands together. “It’s amazing, right? You’re welcome.”

“It is amazing,” Ten allows. He leans forward until his face is level with Yang Yang’s, then continues. “Amazing that you’re still such a little kid, my baby Yang Yang.”

The grin drops right off the younger boy's face. He folds his arms. “I keep telling you, I’m not a baby.”

Ten tuts. “You are if you think real life is anything like those silly romance movies you keep watching under my account!”

“I made my own profile, relax,” Yang Yang grumbles. “And they’re not that silly.”

Like a manifestation of Ten's very point, a burst of music explodes from the TV speakers. "Magic fills the air!" the vocalist of the end credit song belts, "Standing over there, Santa hear my prayer! Here under the mistletoe~" 

Ten cocks an eyebrow. 

Yang Yang snatches up the remote and exits the movie player in a huff.

“What was that movie called, anyway?” Ten asks.

“Uh. Under the Mistletoe? No - A Kiss for Christmas? A Mistletoe Christmas? The Mistletoe Switch? No, that’s the princess one, hang on..." Yang Yang's eyes go vague.

Ten has heard enough. “First of all, thank you for proving my point.” Yang Yang pouts like he's about to argue, but Ten speaks over him. "But I think I can guess how the movie went. Let’s see, the main characters love each other but some misunderstanding keeps them apart. Then their meddlesome friends interfere and push them under some mistletoe, and all of their problems magically resolve after one perfect kiss, and they live happily ever after."

Yang Yang's face pinches up like he's just swallowed a lemon. "Did I miss anything?" Ten presses.

"Actually, yes!" Yang Yang turns his nose up. "They actually meet under the mistletoe and then they fall in love." Ten holds his gaze until the other boy folds like a house of cards and sighs. "But yeah, everything else was pretty much right."

Ten smirks, but Yang Yang doesn't let up, only growing more agitated. "But it's only because they were too stubborn to admit how they felt! And their friends could see they were meant to be together, and they just wanted them to be happy!"

The sassy retort dies in Ten's throat. The puzzle pieces fall into place. 

"Yang Yang," he says gently. "Is that what this is about?"

The other boy avoids his gaze, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. 

"Maybe," he admits, collapsing against the couch like a puppet with its strings cut. He casts Ten a hesitant look. "I want you to be happy, okay?"

The words chip away at Ten's mounting irritation. His endeared smile hurts his cheeks, and he laughs at the awkward flush creeping up Yang Yang's neck.

Ten takes it all back - there are perks to being a hyung. 

He shuffles across the couch and wraps Yang Yang up in a hug. “You’re a pretty good little brother, you know that?”

“Stop,” Yang Yang whines as he drops his head onto Ten’s shoulder. “Don’t be nice, it’s weird.”

“Why can’t I be nice when you’re being so nice?” Ten laughs. “Baby, you know I’m happy though, right? Why would you think I’m not? I have you, I have all our friends. We have our fans, and our health, and our families.”

“No, I know you’re happy, hyung.” Yang Yang doesn't say anything for a while as Ten continues to pet his hair. “I just think you could be more happy.” Another pause. “With Taeyong-hyung.”

Ten yanks on the lock of hair between his fingers. “Hush, you. How could I be any happier than I am right now? You’ve already granted my greatest Christmas wish.”

Yang Yang lifts his head and frowns in confusion. “Huh? How did I do that?”

Ten cooes and pinches Yang Yang’s cheek. “You said you care about me! Ooooi, my sweet baby Yang Yang!”

Yang Yang squirms in disgust, but otherwise allows Ten’s overly affectionate ministrations. “Yah, I didn’t say that,” he protests in a whiny voice. 

“You did, you care about me, and you sounded so manly when you said it, wah!” Ten cackles as the boy begins to struggle in earnest. He locks an elbow around his neck to keep him pinned in close and digs his knuckles into the boy’s scalp. 

“I only said I want you to be happy, don’t take it too far!” Yang Yang’s voice rises in distress. He jabs his fingers into Ten’s ribs but Ten steels his nerves against the attack and refuses to let up. 

“My baby is a real man, it’s a Christmas miracle!” he cries. Yang Yang manages to squeeze his knee between their bodies and use it to leverage Ten away, then kicks him in the stomach. Ten shrieks as he falls onto his back. "Why you - come here, you little kangaroo!"

“You’ll never catch me!” Yang Yang scrambles to his feet and leaps off the couch towards the area rug. Ten dives across the sofa after him and snatches his ankle mid-air, interrupting his momentum and sending the boy crashing to the floor like a rock.

Yang Yang catches himself on his hands, but he can't hold the weight and face-plants the last foot onto the carpet, trapping his hands beneath his body.

In all the pandemonium something crashes to the floor behind them - Ten dimly wonders if it’s his iPad, suffering the same fate as Yang Yang - but he has bigger fish to fry.

Like the squirmy little fishy flailing on the ground, ready to be captured. 

He slithers along the couch on his belly, keeping hold of his prey, then lowers himself onto his arms and crawls over the boy’s prone form. He sits down firmly in the dead center of Yang Yang’s back and crows his victory. The maknae wiggles beneath his crossed legs in a fruitless struggle. “Why are you so heavy, you’re like the size of a peanut!” he squawks. 

“I won’t leave until you tell me you love me.” Ten wiggles his butt, smirking when Yang Yang coughs and groans under the increased pressure. 

Yang Yang may have won the battle, but Ten has won the war.

“I’ll just wait for you to get old and frail and I’ll overpower you,” Yang Yang hisses. 

“ Ha !” Ten laughs. “I do my exercises every day, unlike you! I’m going to live to be a hundred and ten and I’ll still be stronger than you. You have no discipline, young boy.”

Yang Yang kicks his heels up so they hammer at Ten’s back. “This is sadistic!”

Ten laughs harder and grabs Yang Yang’s ankles to halt their assault. “Whaaaat, I’m so confused! I thought this was what you wanted, I’m so happy right now!”

“ Urgh!” Yang Yang’s protests dissolve into a garbled mess of swears and unflattering remarks in a smattering of different languages. 

“Wow, who’s been talking to you like this? Was it Johnny?” It’s actually pretty impressive, linguistically. There’s some German sprinkled in that Ten doesn’t know, but he’ll be searching up online later. “I should scold him.”

“HELP!” Yang Yang shouts to the empty dorm. “Someone save me!”

Just then, the front door opens and closes. Ten and Yang Yang both freeze. “HELP!” Yang Yang screams, switching to Mandarin. “KUN-GE, IS THAT YOU?”

“Everything is fine!” Ten yells over the chaos. 

Xuxi pops his head around the corner, goofy grin plastered across his cheeks. “HEYO, WASSUP!” he greets in English. Ten slouches in relief while Yang Yang thunks his forehead to the floor loudly.

“It's my other baby! Hi Xuxi!” Xuxi giggles and enters the room fully.

“What’s going on, man?” he asks. “Oh Yang Yang, what’s up man!” 

Clearly, Xuxi’s been practicing his English with Johnny and Mark again. 

“Ten-hyung is TORTURING ME-” Yang Yang explodes as Ten also answers - “Yang Yang really loves me, he was just saying so!”

Xuxi blinks at them without understanding, grin still stretching across his handsome features. “Wow!” He nods a few times, peeling off into more laughter. “Sounds good, man!”

 “Just save me, please,” Yang Yang pleads in Mandarin. Xuxi cups his hand around his ear and feigns confusion. 

“Sorry, Lucas speak only English!” he enunciates choppily. “No understand you, man!”

Yang Yang kicks the floor in agony. Ten claps and shoots Xuxi a cheerful thumbs up. “Great work, English-Cas!”

Xuxi shoots him two thumbs ups. “Oh yes! Thank you!” 

At the sound of his raised voice, chaos erupts a few rooms over. The hammering of eager paws precedes the entrance of Bella, careening into the living room and racing up to Xuxi like he’s just come home from military service. 

“Hi girl!” Xuxi greets, dropping to his floor just as Bella skids to a halt in front of him and throws herself paws-first onto his thigh. He shouts with laughter as he's knocked onto his ass. Bella dives for his chin enthusiastically, smacking wet kisses all over the giggling boy and wagging her tail in delight. 

It becomes very clear, as the two puppies reunite after a long time (read: seven hours) apart, that Xuxi does not intend to interfere with the current situation in any way. 

Ten grins.

Xuxi continues to coo at the dog in broken English and the struggle drains out of Yang Yang like an old balloon.  “Fine. Fine. Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Icareaboutyouhyung.”

Ten hums. He leans in close beside Yang Yang's face. “I’m not sure I heard you, could you say that again? I think the word was love ?”

“Why me,” Yang Yang moans into the rug. “Seriously. Why me.” 

Ten lowers his mouth to the shell of Yang Yang’s ear, and asks, “Huh? What’s that?”

“YAH!” Yang Yang flinches, scrunching his shoulder up to his ear and jolting in distress. “WHATEVER, I LOVE YOU HYUNG.”

Ten rolls off Yang Yang, clutching his sides as he laughs. Xuxi looks up from rubbing Bella’s tummy and gawks at them with comically wide eyes.

“WOW, you love him?” he points at Yang Yang, then at Ten. He covers his mouth dramatically. "Ten hyung so special.”

Rolling onto his back and flailing like a rollie pollie, Yang Yang suddenly sling-shots into an upright position. He's so springy, like if a bouncy house was a human boy. “That’s not what happened!” He points at Ten in accusation. “He made me--”

“Yes, he loves me,” Ten interrupts, still snickering and catching his breath. “He’s a sweet boy, I’m very touched.”

“I’m gonna go hang out with Louis," Yang Yang mutters mutinously. He stands and stretches, bending from side to side and griping that Ten has 'misaligned his spine' and he'll 'never dance again'. Ten rolls his eyes and kicks out a leg at Yang Yang’s retreating form, just barely grazing the back of his knee. 

Yang Yang keeps his balance but glares over his shoulder as he leaves the room, mumbling to himself all the way. “He’s such a menace, why did I even bother asking, of course he’s fine, he's too sadistic to be heartbroken... it was probably all an act and I fell for it…”

His voice fades away, and with it goes Ten's fizzling amusement. 

He's alone again, with the same nagging emptiness that only grows stronger during this time of year. He sighs and casts his eyes to the ceiling.

He doesn't have to worry about Xuxi understanding or Yang Yang hearing, so he lets the truth out. “You weren’t wrong, baby, but you can’t help me.” 

The ache in his chest throbs, an old wound that still bleeds anew every day.

He breathes in, and he breathes out, until the pain is nothing more than white noise humming in his bones.

Then he goes to the kitchen and makes dinner for one.

•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·☆·.,¸,•'·.,¸,• '·.,¸,•

Yang Yang roots through the kitchen cupboards, quiet as a mouse. He bypasses the instant noodle and bags of crisps, stomach set on something a bit sweeter.

A packet of crackers falls to the countertop with a clatter.

Yang Yang waits, paralyzed, for the tell-tale creak of footsteps. 

Two, three, four beats pass and - nothing. 

Thank god.

There is a good reason for his paranoia - the last time he snuck around the kitchens for a midnight snack, he accidentally knocked over a pot lid and woke the entire dorm, and earned the nickname “ baby raccoon” among his bandmates for an entire month. The last thing he needs right now is for Ten to remember that incident and bring the monicker back. 

He places the crackers carefully back on the shelf and spots his target: a roll of chocolate chip cookies. Kun would decidedly not approve of sugar this late at night, but whatever. What doesn’t kill Yang Yang will only make him stronger. 

He tip toes out of the kitchen with his loot and heads into the living room. As he nears the couch, he steps on something hard and slippery. He yelps and grabs the arm of the couch for support, narrowly keeping his balance on one leg.

“Geez, what the hell?” he says aloud, then slaps a hand over his mouth. Oh shit, did someone hear that? 

He waits in stiff-limbed terror. 

Silence. 

Fuck, thank goodness. The gods are really on Yang Yang’s side tonight. 

Still, he nearly fell and cracked his head open because someone left their shit on the floor - what is that, even? 

Crouching down to get a better look in the low light, he instantly recognizes the flat, shiny screen. His stomach sinks. 

It’s Ten’s tablet. Ten’s state of the art iPad tablet. 

Oh shit. 

He nearly drops the cookies in his panic, but remembers at the last minute to place them carefully down on the coffee table.

Shit, shit shit - did he break it? Ten’s going to kill him. Or no, wait - Kun’s going to kill him. Their manager  is going to kill him. That's a triple homicide!

What was Ten even thinking, leaving this lying around? It never leaves his side, he loves this thing more than anything. 

Actually, no. He definitely loves the cats more, but they may be the only exception.

So how did the tablet end up...

Suddenly he remembers - that’s right, Ten was viciously attacking Yang Yang for making the mistake of caring about the older boy. In the mayhem, the tablet must have fallen off the couch and landed here, without either of them noticing.

Yang Yang bristles at memory of being pinned down, but still - he’s going to feel like shit if he broke the guy’s tablet. God, does it even still work? 

It feels skeevy, but Yang Yang has to check. He does . If he broke it, maybe he can speak to their manager about replacing it before Ten even wakes up. Maybe he’ll never have to even know what Yang Yang did…

He has to check. 

Heart pounding in his ears, Yang Yang presses to activate the screen. 

The screen lights up. 

Fuck, the gods love Yang Yang. 

Still, he should check that the menu and all the functions still work, so he slides a finger across the screen to unlock it. 

Yang Yang's heart drops.

It's not the tablet - that works just fine, and Yang Yang's happy Ten won't be clearing out his bank account any time soon and all - but what's on the tablet makes him feel sick.

The art application is open to an ongoing project. It’s a piece he’s never seen before, probably what Ten was working on earlier tonight while Yang Yang watched his movie. 

“That liar,” he whispers. 

It’s beautiful, like everything Ten draws. Less abstract, too. He needs no interpreter to know what it is, or what Ten felt when he drew it.

Half the work is vividly colored in pinks, reds, and oranges, the brush strokes smooth with rounded edges. Half is sharp and jagged, in stark black and white.

The focus of the piece is a large, round shape, framed with ruffle-like ridges and emitting the light and color of a sun. But instead of shining down sunbeams, something else drips from the edges of the sun’s pink corona: 

Petals. 

Rose petals, bleeding from the edges of the sun and twirling to the ground in graceful, beautiful arcs. 

The foreground is harsh and grim by comparison. There’s a hand, sketched out from forearm to fingertips in choppy black strokes. The fingers are splayed out, stretching towards the Rose-Sun, miles and miles out of reach. 

Yang Yang was wrong. Ten doesn't have a crush on Taeyong hyung. 

He's in love with him.

He stares at the drawing for a few more seconds, then exits the app and shuts off the screen.

He leaves it where he found it. Better let Ten discover it in the morning and find the battery drained than power it down and leave evidence of his tampering.

He crosses his legs on the floor and grabs a cookie from the roll. 

Something has to be done about this, obviously, and Yang Yang is the man to do it. If he leaves Ten to his own devices, he'll spend Christmas posting depressing art to his instagram.

Still, Yang Yang can't do this alone, and the circle of people he can trust is very small. Xiaojun and Win Win are immediate no's. Hendery might help, but would he tell Ten? Everyone who might approve of his meddling has loose lips, and everyone capable of keeping a secret wouldn't approve.

That disqualifies all the hyungs. Who's left? 

After his third cookie, a lightbulb goes off. 

He grins, dusting off his fingers and fishing out his phone, and hatches a plan.

•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·☆·.,¸,•'·.,¸,• '·.,¸,•

“Hyung, when you texted me at two in the morning asking for my help, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

Yang Yang looks up from his box of ornaments to see Sungchan wearing a red and gold garland around his shoulders like a scarf. He secures it to the side of the doorframe, then winds it over the top. He doesn’t even need a ladder - yes, Yang Yang chose his accomplice well.

“What, you don’t feel the holiday spirit, bro?” He carries the box over to the miniature tree that will be the piece de resistance of his party planning vision.

Sungchan shrugs, the tall antlers Yang Yang crowned him the moment he walked in the room shaking with the motion.

He tapes up the next section of garland. “You made it sound really important, that’s all. Like something from a spy movie: ‘Sungchan, report in the lounge at 0-1300 hours Thursday afternoon to save Christmas .’ And here we are, putting up…” Sungchan trails off and looks at the labyrinth of half-opened boxes scattered around the room. “..what looks like  all of SM’s Christmas decorations from the past 15 years.” 

Yang Yang scoops a handful of shiny gold tinsel from the bottom of the box sprinkles it over the little branches. “Well, the NCT Christmas party is tonight, you know. Someone had to decorate.”

“Doesn’t the company pay people to do this?” Sungchan finishes up the doorframe and assesses his work, hands on hips. He nods in satisfaction, then looks at Yang Yang expectantly.

Yang Yang splutters. “Yah, are you questioning me?”

Sungchan's expression is innocent. “No,” he shakes his head. “I just think it’s strange that it’s only the two of us by ourselves. Shouldn’t we get more help?" He pulls his phone out. "I could call Shotaro-”

“No!” Yang Yang cries, nearly knocking over the little tree in his panic. Sungchan’s sweet doe eyes widen in alarm. He slowly lowers his phone. “Ha ha! I mean! I don’t want to bother anyone else! I’m the Chief Party Planner and you’re my assistant, okay? Don’t worry, I’ve got reinforcements coming later!”

“I guess,” Sungchan agrees with some reluctance. He slides his phone into his jeans pocket and narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “Why did you pick me, anyway?”

“Hmmmm?” Yang Yang’s voice cracks as he flounders for a plausible reason. “Uhh. I thought it sounded like a cool bonding experience?”

'Bonding?' Sungchan mouths, but ultimately shrugs and picks up another garland, this one made of pine needles and studded with holly berries and snow-tipped pine cones.

Yikes, that was weak. You’ve got to commit, Yang Yang , Ten’s voice chides in his mind. That’s how you tell a good lie.

Yang Yang should really start taking tips from the master of lies himself. 

After all, who else could love someone as much as Ten clearly loves Taeyong hyung and lie about those feelings with a straight face? 

Yang Yang sighs, absentmindedly hooking a few ornaments on the tree to keep his hands busy.

He's doing the right thing, isn't he?

Across, the room, Sungchan hangs the garland on the wall at either end, but the weight of the decorations drags it into a sagging mess in the middle. "Actually Sungchan, can you pin that up in the middle? It looks too sad like that."

Sungchan obligingly lifts the middle portion and secures it higher up the wall. "You know," he drawls as he walks over to a different box, "I'm starting to think the real reason you asked me to help is because I'm tall." He reaches inside and pulls out a red and green Christmas wreath. "Should I put these up next, Chief-nim?" There's a cheeky smile on his face, and Yang Yang gives up the ruse.

"Damn, you're quick," he says in awe, and Sungchan laughs. 

"The only thing I can't figure out is why me, and not Johnny hyung or Lucas hyung." He hangs the largest wreath from the lounge's front door, then sets about dispersing the others around the room. "Or better yet, all of us."

Shit, maybe he's too quick. Sungchan has the wide-eyed youthfulness of a child, but the sharpness of Doyoung hyung. A formidable adversary, or a powerful ally...

Yang Yang tests the waters. "Why do you think I chose you?" He tops the tree with a glittery gold star, then starts setting the rest of the table with fancy plates and winter-themed table-toppers. 

"I have a few theories," Sungchan reveals, to Yang Yang's delight. "The first is that I'm the newest member, so I should do this as a courtesy to the group. Except Shotaro hasn't been asked to do anything like this, so I don't think that's it."

Yang Yang finds an adorable red-nosed reindeer figurine at the bottom of the decorations box. Cute. He boops the nose. 

"Good conclusion," he approves. "Next theory?"

Sungchan takes the now-empty wreath box to the corner of the room to join the others. "Then I thought, maybe it was too awkward to ask Johnny hyung to help, since he's older." He cracks open the next box and dubiously plucks out a dart board. "What's this doing here?"

"Ooooo!" Yang Yang tosses his own empty box to the corner of the room, but only Sungchan winces at the noisy collision. "I asked for a few boxes of games too! There should be a little basketball hoop in one of these too." He assesses the room. "Put the dart board over there, and then just like, tape some tinsel around the edges or something. Make it Christmas-y."

Sungchan tilts his head and hums. "Christmas-y. Got it." Yang Yang sets out in search of the basketball set.

It's silent for a while until Yang Yang remembers. "You were saying, your second theory?"

"Right! So I thought maybe that's why you didn't ask Johnny hyung, but you're comfortable with Lucas hyung. So that doesn't make sense."

Bingo! Yang Yang eagerly unpacks the standing, mini-basketball hoop. "Hm, do you have a third theory?" He carries it to the other side of the room and pushes it against the wall. Hmm. More Christmas-y. He slaps a bright gold bow to the backboard.

"I do," Sungchan reveals, stepping back from the dartboard and cocking his head. "What do you think?"

Yang Yang looks over. The tinsel around the board is glaringly bright in the afternoon sun. "I love it! Tell me your next theory."

"It's my last one, actually. I'm pretty confident in it." They reconvene in the center of the room. 

"Hit me," Yang Yang says. 

"I think you're up to something, and you don't want the others to know."

Yang Yang gawks. "Holy shit. Damn, what the hell?"

Sungchan smiles. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Yang Yang swats him lightly on the arm. "How did you know?" Sungchan shrugs nonchalantly, but Yang Yang can tell he's pleased. 

"Nothing else really made sense," he explains. "You could have all 22 of us helping if you asked, so I figured you must be trying to do something sneaky."

"Wow," Yang Yang shakes his head. "You really fit in around here, Sungchan." Happy spots of color fill in the younger boy's cheeks as he smiles.

The funniest part is, Sungchan doesn't even ask what the big secret is. For him, the joy was just in figuring out that there was one. Yang Yang shakes his head again. "C'mon, it's time to fill you in."

He leads Sungchan to one of the vinyl couches where an innocuous looking white paper bag sits in the center. He grabs it by the handle and wiggles it. "This is going to save Christmas, Sungchan." He hands it over. "Go ahead, open it!"

Sungchan untapes the bag and peers inside curiously. "It's a plant?"

Yang Yang nods. "Take it out!"

And there it is, the little Christmas miracle itself: a perfect bundle of delicate green leaves and small white berries, bound together in a velvet bow.

"What is this? Some herb?" Sungchan brings it to his face to smell. 

"Careful, I think it's poison!" Yang Yang warns.

Sungchan flinches, tossing the mistletoe in the air and volleying it across the room in a blur of motion. "What?! You bought a bag of poison?!"

"Woah!" Yang Yang cries at the same time. He runs to the innocent little plant's side and checks it over carefully. A few leaves are slightly bent, but it's mostly unharmed. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to find a store selling mistletoe this last minute?"

"Mist-y- what?!" Sungchan stammers. "Why are you trying to poison someone at our party?!"

"It's only poisonous to eat, I think! I was just worried because you had it right up against your face!"

"Why would someone eat that?" Sungchan demands, still staring at the mistletoe like it might grow legs and attack him.

“They wouldn’t!" Yang Yang rolls his eyes. "It’s not for eating - don’t you know about mistletoe?” 

Sungchan wipes his palms against his jeans, eyes darting warily to Yang Yang’s face while he shifts from foot to foot. “No?”

Yang Yang waves him away. “Go, go wash your hands, I know you’re not going to rest until you do. We can talk about this when you get back.”

Relief blooms over the other boy’s face. “Thank you, hyung!” Sungchan bows quickly, then dashes out of the room and down the hall to the toilets.

In the meantime, Yang Yang admires his little treasure. 

It’s perfect, but bait is only as good as the trap you set around it. Yang Yang needs to hang this in the perfect location.

The closer it is to the center of the room, the more people will get trapped beneath it, and the more likely one of the hyungs is to notice and have it taken down. 

The farther from the center it is, the more suspicious it will seem to bait Ten underneath it and lure Taeyong so far from the main event. 

Hmm…..

“So if we’re not poisoning someone, what are we doing with that thing?” Sungchan asks as he enters through the doorway. 

Yang Yang turns to him with interest. “If I was gonna poison someone, would you still help?”

"Hyung," he says with feeling. Hm, not a straight yes or no... Interesting...

“Okay, okay. Just thought I’d check. Anyway, I’m glad you asked! It's called mistletoe, and it's our Christmas miracle, Sungchan.” 

“Christmas...miracle?” Sungchan’s face is still shrouded in mistrust. He doesn’t get closer than three feet of Yang Yang and the mistletoe. 

“It’s gonna help make Ten’s Christmas wishes come true!” Yang Yang gives the sprig a cheerful shake. 

“Oh, this is for Ten hyung?” Some of the fear leaves Sungchan’s expression. “How is this gonna help him? Is he okay?”

Yang Yang plops down on the couch and offers Sungchan a seat. As they settle in, Yang Yang ponders how much of the truth to reveal. "Well, he's okay, mostly. But he wants something special for Christmas, and he's too scared to ask for it."

Sugnchan nods along slowly. "Okay. So we're going to give it to him?"

"Kind of," Yang Yang hedges. "See, people hang this plant - mistletoe - from the ceiling to decorate for Christmas. But it's not a normal plant. In American tradition, when two people stand underneath a mistletoe, they have to kiss."

"Kiss," Sungchan parrots. He waits, and then realizes Yang Yang has nothing else to add. "Wait, that's it? Why would it help Ten hyung to make everyone kiss at our party?"

Yang Yang makes a face. “Ew, gross. No, I'm not saying this right. The mistletoe is so Ten hyung can kiss someone."

Taking a quick glance around the room like he might spot Kun eavesdropping behind a tower of boxes, Yang Yang leans in close and lowers his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but he likes someone. I want to help him confess, and set them up.”

Sungchan recoils. His mouth drops open and his eyes are wide with horror. “Wha- what? You want to-- Ten hyung likes someone?” 

Yang Yang did not expect this reaction. “Um, yeah,” he answers cautiously. 

Sungchan balls his hands into fists and stands up abruptly. “I can’t help you.”

Yang Yang bolts upright. “Wait, what? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Sungchan raises his voice. His cheeks are flushed again, but this time in anger. “I can’t help you set Ten hyung up with someone! I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be right. I can’t.”

Yang Yang scrambles to his feet. How did everything spiral so far out of control? Could it be that Sungchan has feelings for Ten? It wouldn't be the craziest thing to happen, but Yang Yang would've never suspected.

“I don’t understand, what’s the problem?” he presses.

“The problem?” Sungchan frowns, starting to pace in front of the couch. “What would Taeyong-hyung say?”

Yang Yang fumbles for a way to salvage the situation. “I mean, thank you , I hope--”

“How could you say that!” Yang Yang has never seen Sungchan so riled up before. There's true reproach in his eyes. "How could you try and break his heart?”

Break his - what?

Something is very wrong here. “What are you talking about?” 

“What are you talking about!” Sungchan throws back. “I can’t believe you’d want to help Ten-hyung cheat on Taeyong-hyung!” 

Holy shit. 

Holy, holy shit. 

Yang Yang bursts out laughing. 

Sungchan’s face burns bright red, steam practically rolling out his ears. “That’s it, I’m going--”

Yang Yang chases after him in a quick leap and catches his sleeve. “Wait-- wait, oh god, holy shit-- just wait,” he pleads between waves of laughter. 

Sungchan turns on his heel and stares down his nose at Yang Yang like some sort of towering, impeccably crafted sculpture.

Finally, Yang Yang can speak again. “Sungchan, this is for Taeyong hyung. The person Ten hyung likes is him .”

Sungchan’s jaw clenches. “That makes no sense, hyung. Why would you set them up, they’re already dating.”

Yang Yang giggles again. He can’t help it, it’s just too good. “Wow, I really wish I had been filming you just now. Then I could just show them the video and I wouldn’t have to do all of this.” 

Sungchan's jaw loosens, but he still clearly doesn't get it. Time to spell it out.  

“They’re not together, Sungchan. They’ve never even gone out on a single date!” 

He watches the fascinating wave of emotions play out on Sungchan's face. First comes shock, then confusion, and then denial. “No way, nice try. Is this some sort of prank? Is it because I’m new? Did you do this to Shotaro too?”

Yang Yang reaches out (and up) and shakes Sungchan by the shoulders. “I’m not kidding. I’m so, so serious right now. Ten hyung and Taeyong hyung are not dating.”

Sungchan teeters on his feet, then with Yang Yang’s guidance, falls back onto the couch. He sits stiff as a board, large eyes hazy and unfocused as he clearly questions his grip on reality. Yang Yang pats his shoulder. “But--but--” he stutters. 

“I know, bro.” 

Sungchan catches his eye and clutches Yang Yang’s sleeve desperately. “But Ten hyung - he spent like twenty minutes backstage before our performance showing me videos of Taeyong hyung and his cats! He had like - a hundred of them!” 

Yang Yang nods. “I know.”

Sungchan’s voice rises in distress. “And Taeyong hyung - the other day I found him in the practice room, and he was practicing one of Ten hyung’s old dances, and watching the performance on his phone - and when I came in, we watched the video together like five times because he kept pointing out the little details and saying how far hyung had come--” 

Yang Yang sighs. “I know.”

“The way they look at each other - I mean, they’re always looking! And the skinship!” Sungchan folds over, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“Now you know why this mistletoe is so important.”

“Oh my god,” the young boy moans into his palms. “Oh my god, I got them a couples present for Christmas, I want to die.”

Yang Yang bites his lip. “What did you get?”

Sungchan peeks over his fingers. “A set of mugs.”

“Oh!” He waves his hands. “That’s not so bad!” 

Sungchan shakes his head. “That’s not the bad part.” He covers up his face again and Yang Yang buzzes in anticipation. 

“What’s the bad part?” 

“Well, they both love the cats, right? So the mugs each have a 3D ceramic cat carved on the front, and when you push the cups together…” he trails off, forcing Yang Yang to bite down on his knuckles to stifle the sound of his budding laughter. When Sungchan speaks again, his voice is thick with humiliation. “Their faces kiss.”

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh --

“Oh, Sungchannie,” Yang Yang’s comforts in a wobbly voice. “That’s - that’s really - It’s just so -” Sungchan lifts his head up, puppy dog eyes brimming with desperation, and he breaks. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this!” He slaps his thighs and bends in half from the force of his laughter.

Sungchan drops his head down again. “I knew it, I’m so screwed,” he mumbles. “I really thought they were a couple.”

Yang Yang wipes his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Ah, wow. Listen, don’t blame yourself, okay? It’s dumb that they aren’t dating. And hey! If we pull this off, they’ll be dating by Christmas and your mugs will be the perfect gift for a new couple.”

This does seem to perk Sungchan up. Some of the color concentrated in his cheeks starts to disperse to the rest of his body. He sits up and shakes his head. "Yang Yang hyung," he intones gravely, "We have to get them together. No matter what."

Yang Yang punches the air and leaps to his feet. “Yes! That’s the spirit! Are you ready to hear the plan?”

Sungchan gets to his feet and nods, battle ready.

“Okay, so Haechan will be by soon with reinforcements - only Haechan knows the specifics, but we need help making the stockings. You and I will talk strategy. Now when it comes to mistletoe, placement is key...”

•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·☆·.,¸,•'·.,¸,• '·.,¸,•

Christmas music and lively chatter fill the 12th floor lounge as dusk breaks and the NCT Christmas party kicks off. Taeyong smiles as he crosses under a holly-trimmed doorframe and into a winter wonderland.

“It looks like a toddler broke into the storeroom and threw everything shiny at the walls to see what sticks,” Doyoung observes as he looks around. He narrows his eyes at a particularly shiny miniature tree in the center of a long table.

Taeyong tilts his head. “I think it looks festive. Look!" He points at the adjacent wall, where an embedded shelf has been transformed into a makeshift fireplace. Twenty-three stockings, each personalized with someone's name, hang in a neat row. 

"Did they do that themselves?" Doyoung boggles. "I knew the young ones were going to decorate, but I didn't think they'd go this far."

"Come on, let's go look!" The closer they get, the more details stand out: the glitter glue decorations, the little ornaments hanging off each stocking, the meticulous penmanship of their names. "Where's yours?" he asks Doyoung. His own is directly in the middle. 'Tyong' it reads, with an extra subtitle declaring him: LEADER. There's a red rose ornament hooked on his stocking. 

He looks at the stocking to the right of his. It's clear by the ornament, a smiling black cat, who it belongs to.  

He scans the room for him on instinct and spots Ten lounging in a circle of chairs on the other side of the room. Johnny and Kun are in the adjacent seats, and the three of them are touting glasses of white wine while they laugh uproariously. They're all wearing Christmas paraphernalia, but Ten's - two golden gift-wrap bows fastened to a headband like little ears on his head - is by far the cutest. 

Doyoung calls him back to earth. "Over here." Taeyong spins back around just as Doyoung lifts up his ornament, a white cotton-tailed bunny. "They put so much thought into this." Taeyong recognizes the misty look in his eyes. 

"We should put something inside for everyone," he suggests.

"Those brats did do a surprisingly good job," Doyoung agrees, but the rest of his comment is lost as Taeyong notices a suspicious huddle of boys aruging in too-loud voices a few feet away. 

“Jeno, you’re still good running interference with Jaemin right?”

“Bro, don’t worry. It’s a piece of cake.” 

“Seriously you guys, what plan?” 

“ Nothing . Haechan, did you have to bring Mark?”

“Woah, what’s that supposed to--”

“I told you, he followed me from the dorm, I couldn’t shake him!”

“Guys, Shotaro just walked in. I feel bad that we didn’t tell him.” 

“Trust me, it’s for his own good. If we get caught, he’ll have plausible deniability. Kun hyung will…”  

Taeyong grabs Doyoung's shoulders and walks them sharply away from the stockings. Doyoung splutters in confusion, then belatedly catches sight of the group over his shoulder as he cranes his neck around, and his shoulders go tense. "What's going on over there?" 

"Ah, nothing, I'm sure," Taeyong lies. "Just some of the kids. Mark, Yang Yang, Jeno, Jaemin, Sungchan...Haechan..."

Doyoung lets himself be be led, but his eyebrows climb higher and higher. "That doesn't sound like nothing."

“Oh, you noticed them too?” Jaehyun meets them as they near the snack and drinks table, two champagne flutes in hand. He passes one off immediately to Doyoung, who receives it and downs half the contents in 3 seconds flat. “They’re not very subtle." He sips delicately at his drink, tranquil as ever.

Xiaojun appears at his other side, bearing a plate stacked high with Christmas cookies. He takes a bite into a snowman shaped one and follows their gaze. "Ah, the troublemakers," he says knowingly. "Yang Yang was out of the dorm before 7am to prepare for this. I've never seen him awake before 11 unless it's for a schedule."

"Did you guys see the stockings? Doie and I want to put little treats in them later," Taeyong gestures over his shoulder. 

Xiaojun sighs in a put-upon way. "We should go thank them, shouldn't we?"

Doyoung takes a generous sip of champagne. "Into the lion's den we go."

So they trek back to the other side of the room, but not before Taeyong announces their approach. He doesn't want to hear any more conspiring tonight. "Hey guys!" 

The group breaks their huddle and attempts to greet them innocently, with varying degrees of success. Jaemin and Jeno appear natural, but Mark stares dumbly at the four of them until Haechan jabs him in the ribs, and he twitches his hand up in a belated wave. 

“Great job with the decorations you guys!” Taeyong praises.

"It was all Yang Yang's vision, we just helped," Jeno pipes up.

Yang Yang glows with pride. “Actually, Sungchan helped a lot too! I couldn't have done it without him.” Sungchan lowers his eyes bashfully when Taeyong and Jaehyun clap him on the back. 

“Wow, really? I’m really impressed!” Doyoung praises. Sungchan’s cheeks bloom with little spots of color, and he bows deeply in gratitude. “You must have worked a lot, Sungchannie.” 

“Thank you, hyungs,” Sungchan dips his head again. “I know it’s not much, but we did our best.”

“Nonsense, it’s magnificent!” Haechan cuts in. “Hyungs, what part is your favorite?”

Taeyong nods at the line of stockings. "Those. My heart was moved when I saw them, really."

"I like the cookies," Xiaojun offers, crunching away on another one.

Yang Yang beams. “Well, we bought the cookies. But everyone helped make the stockings!"

Taeyong chuckles. “You boys did well.” The young ones smile and bow, but then there's an awkward pause, where it's clear they'd like to return to their....suspicious activities.

Doyoung narrows his eyes at them and sighs. "Wow, you guys aren't subtle. Don't worry, we'll be going now. Bye!" Then he's off like a rocket, the others not far behind him.

Taeyong bids his own goodbyes a little slower, and by the time he reaches his friends Doyoung is knocking back the rest of his drink while a wide-eyed Xiaojun watches. "I think I need another."

Jaehyun places a hand on his lower back. "Why don't we go sit down, Doie, I'll refill this for you," he coaxes while he guiding them towards a circle of couches. “Xiaojunnie, Taeyong, you coming?”

"I'm gonna go say hi to Shotaro," Xiaojun responds.

"Yeah, you guys go have fun, I'm gonna walk around for a while," Taeyong chimes in. "I'll catch up with you later!"

As they go their separate ways, Taeyong sets off on a new mission: to find a drink that won't incapacitate him in three sips.

He runs into a sleekly-dressed and tipsy Yuta at the drinks table, where Taeyong discovers a batch of non-alcoholic fruit punch and helps himself. They stay together for the next hour as Taeyong makes his rounds saying hello to everyone. Yuta, a clingy drinker, hangs off Taeyong like a fancy purse and doesn't seem to mind the constant milling around.

There's no sign of any mischief from the group of maknaes until the party is well underway, and Taeyong is chatting with Win Win and Yuta. Mark and Yang Yang join them, and Yuta springs away from Taeyong's side and latches onto Mark like an excited octopus. "Mark-eu," he sing-songs. "You're so pretty tonight under all the twinkling lights, did you know?" 

Mark laughs in his usual awkwardly flattered way. "Bro, how much have you had to drink tonight, hyung?"

Yuta's hazy eyes narrow unhappily. "Yah, what happened to oppa?" he nags, nearly pouting. 

Taeyong can't watch anymore, and engages Yang Yang and Win Win in conversation. "I can't believe Yuta hyung," Win Win is saying in a low voice. 

Yang Yang snickers. "What, you jealous?" 

Win Win rolls his eyes. "No, you know how I feel about being babied. I just mean he's shameless."

Taeyong's cheeks burn in secondhand embarrassment. "You're right about that."

"So little bro, I heard you're the brains behind tonight's operation," Win Win squeezes affectionately at the back of his neck. "Not bad, maybe we should hire you? Chinese New Year is coming up."

Yang Yang sticks out his tongue. "You can't afford my rates, they've just doubled."

"Zero times zero is still zero," Win Win sasses back.

The pair of them bicker until Yang Yang suddenly turns to Taeyong like he's remembered something. "Oh, hyung! Some of the others were going to play a game, and we wanted to know if you would join?"

Taeyong hums inquisitively. "A game? Sounds fun!"

Win Win's gaze is curiously suspicious. "What others?" he asks.

Yang Yang scratches his head. "Oh, haha, just a few of us! Jaemin, Haechan, Ten hyung.." he trails off. 

Win Win's eyes narrow further. "Uh huh."

Taeyong's nerves are pricked by the suspicious lineup as well, but he's more preoccupied with other things. Like the view of Ten's side profile a few meters away in the direction Yang Yang indicated, catching the light just right so the tip of his nose looks especially lovely.

"Great!" he agrees immediately.

"What about me, can I join?" Win Win crosses his arms. 

The question flusters Yang Yang. "Oh! Uh, well we need an even number, so..." 

Win Win raises his eyebrows in challenge. "There's five of you, with Taeyong hyung."

"I meant odd!" 

"Sure you did," Win Win drawls. 

Taeyong looks back and forth between them. This is so clearly a set-up, there should be alarm bells ringing in his head. But Ten is the only person he hasn't said hi to yet tonight, and there are fireworks in his stomach instead.

The two WayV members remain caught in a stalemate until Win Win throws up his hands and backs down. "It's alright, I wanted to hang out with Yuta hyung and Mark anyway."

Yang Yang snorts under his breath. "You did?"

Win Win glares. "Weren't you going?" 

Yang Yang backs away in apology. "My bad, my bad. Let's go hyung, they're waiting!" He leads the way, waving at Haechan and the others and skipping the rest of the way.

Taeyong takes it a bit more slowly, hands in his pockets and hoping to catch Ten's eye. The smaller boy sees Yang Yang first, then notices Taeyong behind him and breaks out into a grin. "Oh hyung, there you are!"

"Sorry Tennie." He shuffles to a stop in front of him.  "I was just saying hi to everyone, but I kept missing you!"

Ten tilts his head sweetly. "Well you finally found me."

"I guess I did," Taeyong giggles. 

“Yo, hey man!” Haechan clasps Yang Yang’s arm like they haven’t seen each other in weeks. “Taeyong hyung, you came!” The other two catch up and bid their hellos.

Taeyong remembers why they're all there. “Yang Yang said you guys wanted to play a game?”

Ten steps in closer to Taeyong's side, their sleeves brushing. “Game? You guys said you wanted to show me some choreography you were working on.” He frowns at the dreamies in confusion. 

“You what ?” Yang Yang grits out. 

Haechan laughs boisterously. “A choreography game, of course! Now hyungs,” and here he forces himself between Ten and Taeyong and links their arms to his on either side, "come right this way--"

He starts dragging them to a bit of floorspace identical to the one a few feet behind them, and Taeyong exchanges a baffled look with Ten. 

"Yoooo, what's good party people!" A large body slams into Taeyong's other side, strong arm sliding around his waist to keep him balanced.

“Johnny hyung!” Yang Yang cries shrilly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m gettin' my party on , that’s what!” Johnny calls back. “What are y’all doin’ over here?”

“Playing a choreography game, apparently,” Ten answers wryly. 

“Huh?” Johnny pulls a face. 

Then Haechan gives the two of them a shove, and Ten crashes into Taeyong and Taeyong crashes into Johnny and Johnny catches them both, as sturdy as a mighty oak tree.

"Woah," Johnny remarks, so deep that Taeyong feels it rumble in his chest. He rubs at his shoulder. What the hell?

“Hey, what the hell, Donghyuck?” Ten recovers first, pushing off Johnny's chest and glaring bloody murder.

“I’m sorry hyungs, it’s to save Christmas!” Haechan bows his head and backs away from them, falling back in line with a creepily smiling Jaemin and Yang Yang. 

“Wow," Yang Yang cries suddenly, "oh my god, what’s that!” He points above their heads. Taeyong blinks, belatedly stepping out from Johnny's arms, and looks up.

Dangling from a beam in the ceiling is an odd looking bouquet of little green leaves, wrapped up in a red bow.

Taeyong looks back down. 

“What’s that?” he points.

“You didn’t ,” Ten hisses. Taeyong’s shocked to see his murderous expression intensify. “Liu Yang Yang, get over here right now.”

“Hyung, I can’t, you guys have to kiss first!” Yang Yang argues, quite bravely Taeyong might say. He wouldn’t cross Ten in such a state, but WayV’s maknae has always been a risk-taker. 

Yang Yang’s words catch up to him. “Wait, kiss?” he parrots. 

“Ohhhhh ,” Johnny snaps in realization then points at the three young ones, breaking out into a slow grin. “You little sneaks! You put mistletoe up!” Johnny notices Taeyong's blank look and asks, “Wait, you guys don't use it here?"

Taeyong shrugs. "I've never heard of it."

"Mistletoe is a kind of plant we use to decorate for Christmas in America. People usually hang it under a doorway, and according to tradition, if two people stand under it at the same time they have to kiss."

Taeyong's face flares. “Oh,” he squeaks. “That’s - uh, unique.”

Ten shakes his head. “It’s silly, and inappropriate for a company party.”

Johnny shrugs. “I don’t know, it could be fun.” Ten turns to him in alarm, but Johnny just smirks and winks. “If everyone joined us, of course.”

Then he takes one gargantuan step out of the mistletoe's range and yanks Jaemin and Haechan in by their sleeves so they're trapped too. Yang Yang makes a break for it and nearly escapes, but Ten's on him in a flash. He pinches him by the ear and leads him into the mistletoe circle like a dog on a leash while Yang Yang whimpers.

Now they're all stuck, the six of them, in the mistletoe trap.

“What, are we all going to kiss each other?” Jaemin asks. Out of all of them, he appears the least disturbed by the idea. 

Haechan makes a face. “No, only one of us should.” 

"One person kisses everyone else?" Yang Yang clarifies. 

Johnny shrugs and raises his hand. “Rock paper scissors?” 

Ten digs his nails into Yang Yang’s ear, then releases him. “Deal.”

It’s a fast game. Haechan and Taeyong immediately win the first round, then Johnny and Jaemin the next, which leaves Ten and Yang Yang for the final showdown. Ten is glaring so intensely at the other boy that he doesn’t seem to care what sign he throws down. They tie three times, but he never looks down at their hands once.

Yang Yang makes a pleading face at Ten. Ten pauses when he sees it, then sets his chin in a resolved way. He throws down scissors. 

Yang Yang raises his clenched fist in the air, triumphant.

And just like that, Ten loses the game.

“Okay, Ten hyung kisses everyone!” Haechan cheers. Taeyong frowns at Ten in concern. He's taking the loss in stride, but a minute ago he was so furious. This may be a game to the young ones, but no one should participate who doesn’t want to.

He bumps their shoulders together while the others argue about the rules. Ten looks at him curiously, the play of light against his cheekbones captivating and lovely.

Taeyong tilts his head and raises his eyebrows.

The corners of Ten's eyes crinkle in a smile. Their hands brush together, Ten's pinky hooking around his and squeezing. He nods.

Haechan’s voice breaks the spell. “Okay, Ten hyung takes turns going around the circle. You can kiss anywhere on their body that they agree to, okay?”

Ten nods. “Okay. Who’s first?”

Johnny shimmies his shoulders and flutters his hands coquettishly. “Me first, me first!” Ten giggles and walks over to him. 

“Where do you want it, handsome?” he asks in English. 

“Hmmm,” Johnny bats his eyes. “Right... here .” He taps his right cheek coyly. Their playfulness unwinds some of the lingering tension in Taeyong’s chest. He has no doubt that Yang Yang will be suffering the consequences of this stunt for the next - oh, he’d say, 3-5 years - but if Ten is having fun, then there’s no real harm done. 

And Taeyong gets a kiss out of it too. 

Just a bonus. 

“Get down here, you’re too tall,” Ten demands, after trying to balance on his tippy-toes to reach Johnny’s face. Johnny obliges, and Ten cups his jaw and plants a saucy kiss on his cheek. He thumbs at the spot as he pulls away while Johnny hams it up and raises a hand to his forehead like he might faint. 

Ten winks as he passes along to the next person. “Okay, okay, you’re next, Jaemin.”

Jaemin taps a spot just under his jaw. “Right here, hyung.”

The group lets out a collective ooooooh . Ten meets Jaemin’s challenging stare with a cool smirk. “As you wish.” He steps up to Jaemin and guides Jaemin's chin up with one hand. He leans in and brushes his lips just under his jaw in a silent kiss. 

When he steps away, Jaemin appears slightly flushed, but otherwise collected. He smiles. “You have soft lips, hyung.” 

Ten thumbs his lower lip in a showy display. “I know.” Haechan is next in line, already answering Ten’s question before he asks. 

“Ten-hyungnim, as your fan it would mean the world to me if you would bestow your lips upon this sacred part of my body. Right - here.” He lifts his right arm, sleeve rolled up past his elbow, and points directly at the joint. 

Ten blinks dubiously. “Your elbow?” 

“Yes Ten-hyungnim,” Haechan responds, still overly formal. “My elbow, please.” 

Johnny and the others titter in amusement while Ten shakes his head. “Well, anything for a fan.” He ducks down and pecks dutifully at the exposed elbow. 

“Thank you, Ten hyungnim.” Haechan bows his head. “I will never wash my elbow again.” 

Ten says something quippy back and everyone laughs except for Taeyong, struck by the sudden realization that he's next. Blood rushes to his head so quickly he sees spots. He blinks them away, but if anything he feels even more unsteady.

Then Ten steps in front of Taeyong. The giggles fall to a hush. 

Ten lifts his chin up boldly, but his voice is soft as he asks, “Where would you like it?”

Taeyong doesn’t answer for a moment, struggling to find his voice.

“Anywhere,” he replies. 

Whispers break out across the group. Ten’s eyes cut down to his mouth, and Taeyong’s heart explodes as Ten’s tongue darts over his own lips. “Anywhere?” His eyes are dark when they flicker back up to his. 

Taeyong nods weakly. “You pick.”

Ten swallows, the first sign of nerves since the game began. “Okay.” Taeyong’s stomach jumps as Ten steps in closer. “Then I pick…” Ten’s face looms closer and closer, and Taeyong fights between the instinct to close his eyes or watch every second.

Ten skims his fingers across his cheek, and Taeyong's eyes flutter closed. Careful fingers curl around his chin and tilt his face ever so slightly down. “Here.”

Warm lips press against the corner of his mouth. Taeyong gasps, and their lips catch -

It's the longest three seconds of his life, but it's over before it even started. 

Ten lifts his lips from Taeyong's cheek and lingers in his space a moment too long. Then he pulls back and leans down from his toes, watching Taeyong with those heady, unreadable eyes. "There," he says lowly. 

Taeyong's mouth tingles. His head feels full of cotton and sparks.

Ten bites his lips - his lips that just touched Taeyong's - and waits. 

"T-Thank you," Taeyong stammers. 

Ten blushes in a rare display that leaves Taeyong even more tongue-tied. “Sure,” he clears his throat. He moves on quickly now, sidling up to the next and final member.

Safely out from Ten's watchful gaze, Taeyong's lungs burst and he finally breathes again. 

Ten kissed him. 

Ten kissed him. 

Ten kissed--

“Yang Yang,” Ten cackles, jumping onto the boy and wrapping his arms and legs around him like a koala bear. “It’s your term, lucky boy. Time for the biggest kiss of your life!”

“Wait, oh my god, let go of me! Don’t I get to choose where?” Yang Yang screeches, wobbling under Ten's weight. Johnny the oak tree helpfully steps behind him and holds him steady. 

“No-pe!” Ten wets his lips and pops the -p sound loudly. “Now pucker up, buttercup!” 

“Nooooooo!” Yang Yang squeezes his eyes closed as Ten showers a rain of wet, messy kisses all across his face. Everywhere but his lips, because even Ten has his limits, it seems.

The rest of the group jeers and laughs. Taeyong is still too winded to contribute to the merriment, but it’s a heart-warming sight, and probably a fitting punishment for the younger boy.

Satisfied with the havoc he’s wreaked on a red-faced Yang Yang, Ten hops back onto the ground and dusts off his hands. “There! Five kisses from yours truly.” Twisting his wrist, he folds over into a dramatic showman’s bow. “Merry Christmas, everyone!” 

Haechan cheers loudly, and the group breaks up naturally as people go their separate ways. 

Taeyong doesn’t move. First of all, he’s not sure how his legs work right now. Secondly, he’d like to talk to Ten if he could.

Their lips touched. Ten had a choice of where to kiss him, and that's what he chose--

Did it mean something? Maybe not - probably not, really, it was a silly game, and it wasn't even Ten's idea to play! - but Taeyong won't get any sleep tonight if he doesn't know for sure.

He tries to catch Ten's eye, but it’s fruitless. The Thai boy is talking privately to Yang Yang a few feet away, and the expression on his face is too serious to interrupt. 

Johnny saunters to his side and slings an arm over his shoulders. “Well, that was somethin', huh?” 

Taeyong nods. “Definitely.”

“C’mon, you look like you could use a drink.” Johnny pulls him away towards the refreshments, and Taeyong sags into his side. 

Taeyong agrees. Alcohol might be his only answer to ever sleeping again.

•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·☆·.,¸,•'·.,¸,• '·.,¸,•

Johnny gives terrible drinking advice, and Taeyong should really know better. 

He puts a bag of vending-machine candy into the next stocking, then continues down the line. Chenle, Hendery, Jungwoo, check. He sighs. 

At the other end of the mantlepiece and working down in the reverse direction, Doyoung sighs too. 

"Why, what's with you, Doie?" Taeyong asks, moving onto Renjun's now.

“I can't stop thinking about that mistletoe stunt,” he answers.

Taeyong stuffs another stocking woefully. “Me too,” he pouts. 

Doyoung goes on without prompting. “I knew something was up, I knew! I could've stopped it!" Privately, Taeyong is glad that he didn't, but he stays quiet while his friend works himself up. "Imagine the sexual harassment law suit we could be waking up to tomorrow!” 

Those unadvised sips of wine might be making Taeyong's head fuzzy, but something about that doesn't make sense. “Who would sue us, though?” 

Doyoung nearly drops the rest of the candy in his arms. “Jaemin! Haechan!” 

“It was their plan, though,” Taeyong points out, continuing to dish out chips and candies.

“Okay, what about Ten?!” 

Taeyong shrugs. “I checked, and he was okay with it. Besides, didn’t he technically do the kissing? I don't think he could file for harassment. Could he?”

Doyoung flies right past the matter. “You, then!” 

Taeyong breaks his gaze and stares at the stocking in front of him now. Of course, it's Ten's. “I didn’t mind,” he admits quietly. The last bag in his hands is the one he's been saving since the begining: Ten's favorite. He slips it inside the stocking, then traces the outline of his name.

Just as quickly as he was brought to the edge, Doyoung comes back down. He's finished his side too, dropping the final candy into Mark's stocking. "I know."

Taeyong peeks up from under his lashes and vibrates with the urge to get everything off his chest. “His lips were really soft,” he blurts. “Our lips touched.”

Doyoung pulls a face. “I know.” 

Energy zips through his veins like lightning. “I let him pick, I told him he could kiss me anywhere, and that’s where he picked, Doie.” 

“I know.” Doyoung picks up his champagne glass from the mantle and drains the last bit.

“And--” each word fills him with more restless joy, “he didn’t laugh afterwards - after every other kiss, people laughed and made jokes. But he didn’t laugh!” 

Doyoung gazes longingly at his empty glass. “I know.”

"I keep thinking, isn't it a weird coincidence that he lost? What are the odds?" Doyoung mumbles something about Sixteen percent really isn't that weird, but okay, but Taeyong barely hears it. "When we played for it, it's almost like he tried to lose." He sighs. "I wish I knew how he felt."

Silence meets him. 

Taeyong blinks at him. “Isn’t this the part where you say ‘I know ’?” 

Doyoung puts down the glass. “No. This is the part where I say what I want.”

Taeyong hazards a guess. “Another glass of champagne?”

“No,” Doyoung shakes his head. “Well, yes I do, but - no. Here’s what I want.” He squares off with Taeyong and grabs him firmly by the shoulders. “I want you to go talk to Ten.”

Taeyong opens his mouth to argue, but Doyoung cuts him off. “Quiet, listen to me.” He shuts his mouth. “Ten’s standing out on that balcony right now, all alone, in the middle of a party.” Doyoung points over Taeyong’s shoulder towards the balcony entrance. "I'd bet you anything that while you're inside thinking about him, he's out there thinking about you." 

Taeyong twists around to look, and sees him through the glass doors: a lone figure silhouetted in the moonlight, obscured by a large puffy coat but unmistakably Ten.

His stomach twists.

“Taeyong-ah,” Doyoung calls, oddly gentle. As are his eyes, when Taeyong dares to meet them. “You’ve loved him from afar for long enough. Don't you think it's time you told him?"

Taeyong worries at his lower lip. “But what if he doesn't feel the same?” 

Doyoung laughs a little. “And what if he does? Taeyong-ah, do you really want to go another year without telling him how you feel?"

Taeyong considers it. Imagines closing out 2020 in the same stagnant, passive lull he's spent years trapped in. Can he even spend one more day like this?

It's been a year full of so many incredible things: touring the world together; singing their song in Paris like they've always dreamed; building a new home in SuperM and returning to the old one in NCT; through all the changes and struggles, growths and triumphs, they've stuck together and pushed every boundary, reached higher and higher - 

Can Taeyong really back down now?

"You're right," he breathes. "You're right, I have to tell him."

Rolling his neck and stretching his arms out like a sleepy cat, Doyoung yawns. "I know I'm right. It's exhausting."

Taeyong's nerves jangle madly as he hops from foot to foot, like that time he tried to make espresso with Johnny and had a caffeine heart attack. "Okay, I'm gonna go grab you another drink, and then I'm gonna go talk to Ten!"

“You do that,” Doyoung dismisses him with a leisurely wave, but Taeyong's already gone.

Potential conversation starters cycle through his mind. Hi Ten, do you remember Paris? Too vague, of course he does. Ten, how do you feel about me? No, too direct. Tennie, can we talk about earlier? 

Perfect. 

He pours Doyoung's drink and whips around, bumping straight into-

"Jaehyun!" The champagne, generouly filled to the top of the glass, spills over onto Taeyong's hands. "Oh my gosh, did I get any on you? I'm so sorry!"

Jaehyun steadies Taeyong by the arm. "It's my fault, hyung, I thought you heard me say hello. Are you alright?"

Taeyong shakes out his damp hand. "Never better!" he chirps. 

Jaehyun eyes the drink in his hand. "Have you been drinking more? Did you lose Kun's magic drinking game again?"

Oh, right! "No, this is for Doie. I owed him one, so..." He taps his toes and considers how long Ten might stay outside. It's so cold, what if he leaves? Or what if someone else goes out there first? "Actually, would you mind taking that over to him for me?"

Jaehyun's cheeks dimple. "Sure thing, hyung. Now what's got you so excited?"

Taeyong scans the area for chatty maknaes, then leans in. "I'm gonna go talk to Ten."

"That's funny," Jaehyun remarks with a mischevious glint in his eye. "A little birdie named Johnny said Ten wanted to talk to you too." Taeyong's hummingbird heart races that much faster. Jaehyun winks and shoulders him towards the glass doors. "Go get him tiger. And take a coat!"

•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·☆·.,¸,•'·.,¸,• '·.,¸,•

The sliding glass door opens and closes behind Ten. It’s probably Kun, come to check on him again. Or ply him with alcohol and sympathy, neither of which Ten particularly wants right now. 

What he wants he can't have, and all he needs right now is a few moments of peace to feel sad about it. He'll be fine afterwards. 

He always is.

“Boo!” the voice behind him says.

Not at all the voice he expected. He spins around. Taeyong waves once, then tucks his hands inside the pockets of his puffy black coat. 

"It's Taeyong the Friendliest Ghost!" Ten greets, already lifted from the depths of his sulk with one look at this boy. "My favorite."

Taeyong giggles cutely, each release of air clouding up like steam. “Wah, it’s cold. How long have you been out here, Tennie?” He walks over to Ten, emitting a surprising amount of body warmth through all his layers. 

Ten inches the tiniest bit closer. “Only about ten minutes,” he guesses. “I wanted to see the view. And get some quiet.”

Taeyong doesn’t judge him for either - Ten already knew he wouldn't. “That sounds nice. Do you mind if I join you? I know it’s not quiet if I’m here too.”

Ten shakes his head. “You don’t count. I never mind if it’s you.”

“Really?” Maybe it’s a trick of the moonlight, but Taeyong’s cheeks look almost pink as he shuffles up against the balcony railing. Their coats rustle as they brush against each other. 

“Really,” Ten smiles.

Side by side, they admire the glittering lights of the Seoul skyline at night. And yet as gorgeous as it is, Ten struggles to keep his eyes off the boy beside him. 

It’s comfortable together, as always. But there's something hovering in the air between them, and Ten knows he has to bring it up.

He lowers his eyes. “Yongie, I wanted to say something. About earlier.”

"You did?" For some reason, the words make Taeyong startle like a cornered deer.

Ten frowns. "Yes. I wanted to apologize to you."

Taeyong pales. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, in the mistletoe game. No one even asked you if you wanted to play, and that wasn't right."

"Oh!" Taeyong sags in relief. "Don't apologize! I wasn't uncomfortable at all."

“Are you sure?” Ten presses. “Because you were really quiet after, and I -” he nibbles his lip and looks down at the floor of the balcony in worry. “I don't know if I overstepped.” He peeks at Taeyong through his lashes.

Taeyong’s cheeks look pink again. His impossibly large eyes shine in the darkness. “No, I...it was okay. Really okay.”

Ten bites to conceal his smile. “ Really okay?”

“Really.” Taeyong ducks his head so Ten can only see the top of his head.

He stops trying to hide it and smiles freely. "It was 'really okay' for me too."

Taeyong's warm laughter rolls over Ten like a blanket against the chill. "I'm glad, Tennie."

Their eyes meet and jump apart again, a dance of giggles and glances. 

Somehow they've moved even closer together. Ten could lean forward and kiss him, if he wanted. If Taeyong wanted. 

His pulse skitters. 

“Yang Yang must have hung that mistletoe when he decorated,” he babbles to distract himself. “I don’t even know where he got that, it definitely wasn’t with the company decorations.”

Taeyong pushes his lips out in an interested pout, so Ten elaborates. "He's been obsessed with Christmas lately. Apparently he's been watching all these American holiday movies - on my Netflix - and he's become convinced that all these things - mistletoe, magic, Christmas wishes, miracles, silly things like that - are real."

Scanning the sky thoughtfully, Taeyong hums. "I think they're real."

Ten snorts. “Magic? Actual Christmas magic? Yongie, please. There's no such thing!"

"Of course there is!" Taeyong returns, smiling in a way that's both wise and naive. "There's something magical about this time of year. Doesn't it feel like all your wishes could just come true?"

Right now Ten wishes he could kiss the tips of Taeyong's reddened ears and warm him up, so - no, not really.

Ten shakes his head. "I don't really make wishes," he confesses. 

Taeyong whips around. "You - no wishes?" he gawks. Ten shrugs again. "But you must have things that you want, right?"

Ten considers how best to explain. "Well, yes, of course. I have goals and dreams that I want to achieve. But it's different - if I work hard enough, I can get those things. A wish is something you can't earn. It's like..." Taeyong's fixed attention is both intoxicating and nerve-wracking, so Ten dodges his eye and looks out at the glimmering streetlights instead. "It's like wishing for someone's health and safety. I want my family to be well, I want my friends to be happy. But I can't ask for those things."

He turns to the thing - the person - he wants most of all. 

"What's the point in wishing for something that might not come true?"

Taeyong doesn't say anything, just looks at Ten for a long time. Ten thinks maybe that's the end of the conversation, but then he switches his gaze to the waxing moon overhead and smiles. "I think those are the best kinds of wishes." The light casts his ethereal features into stark relief. "Dreams and wishes should be big."

Maybe that's what you are, Ten thinks for a moment. My dreams, come to life.

"Big enough to reach the stars?" he asks.

Taeyong shakes his head. “No.” He grins at Ten from the corner of his eye. “Big enough to fly out of this galaxy and into the next one.”

What a very Lee Taeyong thing to say. Ten sways into his space, caught in orbit around him like the moon around the earth. He studies Taeyong. The little scar under his eye is in perfect detail. His pouty lips are stained with wine.

“What’s your Christmas wish, Yongie?” Ten wonders, voice low and thick. 

Those red lips part. “My wish?”

Ten tears his eyes away and clears his throat. “Well, after what you just said, I know you must have one.”

Drawing Ten's fractured attention back to his mouth, Taeyong chews on his lips. “Oh, I do.” 

“Tell me,” Ten risks freezing off his fingers to reach at the front of Taeyong's coat and pull on it insistently.

Instead of heeding this demand, Taeyong takes his own hands out of his pockets and cups them around Ten's. The friction as he rubs their skin together sets off a feedback loop of pleasant shivers and tingles throughout his body.

Taeyong's consideration for the well-being of others always makes Ten's heart race. Taeyong blows hot air on their clasped hands, lips brushing Ten's fingers, and Ten's hands start to shake. Taeyong pouts in concern, and blows again. 

"Th-thank you," Ten chatters, now so hot from his thundering heart that the outside air feels even colder by comparison. “Now tell me your Christmas wish.”

“Just between you and me?” Taeyong hasn’t let go of his hands. 

“You, me, and the stars.” He swings his eyes skyward.

Taeyong grins coyly. “Ah, well they already know.” 

“Okay, okay," Ten chuckles. "Just me, then.”

At this, Taeyong's face closes down in that thoughtful way of his, and he lets Ten's hands drop. Ten tries not to feel bereft as he bundles his hands back in his coat, and waits for his friend to be ready to answer.

It's actually not an answer at all. "How long have we been together, Tennie?" Taeyong asks, staring out over the balcony with an unreadable expression.

Ten hums. “NCT?”

“You and me.”

“Oh.” He shuffles his feet a little for warmth, but he doesn't even need to think about it. “Seven years.” 

Nodding like he already knew just as much, Taeyong falls quiet. Ten returns to his own musings. Will it snow tomorrow? A white Christmas must surely be on Yang Yang's Christmas list. 

A snow day would be fun for them, Ten thinks. Yang Yang shoving handfuls of snow down Hendery's coat, Kun spending twenty minutes building a snowman only for Taeil hyung and Haechan to knock it over during a snowball fight, Shotaro and Jisung making snow angels.

Ten, watching over the chaos with a warm mug of spiced cider and Taeyong at his side.

"That's my wish," Taeyong declares out of nowhere. For a terrifying moment, Ten wonders whether he said all that out loud.

Then he picks back the thread of conversation, and it makes even less sense. "What? Yongie, that can't be a wish. It's already true!"

Taeyong suddenly faces him head-on. His shoulders are set in determination and his eyes wide with sincerity. "My wish is that we'll stay together for seven more years."

Ten stops breathing.

“I wish that you’ll stay by my side for seven more years, Tennie. And seven more after that. And seven after that, and seven after that.”

Ten’s voice shakes. “That’s twenty eight years.”

Taeyon'g chirp of laughter has an edge of  panic.  “Is that all?” His body is tense while his eyes waver like he’s doing mental calculations, then he nods. “Okay, make it one hundred and twenty eight, then."

Ten's chest feels tight, like a powder keg ready to blow at the slightest spark. “I don’t understand,” he flounders. “Why? Why would you wish for that?”

The cold distance in Taeyong's eyes melts. "Because I care for you, Tennie."

Flames erupt in his chest. Ten's gasping, shaking, taking in gulps of sweet, crisp winter air before springing to his toes and twisting his hands into the collar of Taeyong’s coat, answering Taeyong's Christmas wish with his own. 

He kisses Taeyong.

Blood rushes to his head. The chilly tip of Taeyong's nose digs into his cheek. Plush lips yield to him, warm and supple. He clutches tighter at Taeyong's jacket and then - just as Taeyong begins to thaw from his state of shock - he pulls off. 

But not too far. He drops a parting kiss to the corner of Taeyong's lips - the same spot as earlier, he's growing kind of attached - and steps away. 

Inhale, exhale. Ten hides his trembling hands in his pockets. 

Inhale, exhale. Taeyong stares, dumstruck, redness gathering in his cheeks with alarming speed. 

Shit, did Ten just make the biggest mistake of his life? 

Inhale, exhale. 

It's only, Taeyong said his Christmas wish was to be with Ten forever, he literally said that. Who says things like that?

He's seriously considering leaping off the balcony and scaling the building like Spiderman to find his dorm window, when Taeyong blurts out, “I lied!”

Ten’s knees give out. 

He catches himself on the railing and stumbles back a few steps. “You--You what? What the fuck does that mean, why would you lie about this?”

Taeyong’s expression sorts itself out: it’s stricken with horror. 

Ten feels sick. 

“Wait, that didn’t come out right--” Taeyong reaches a hand out to Ten, but he dodges away. “I didn’t mean what you think!”

“Oh, so you don’t care for me?” Ten spits, tasting bile in his mouth and struggling not to cry. “I never thought you could be this cruel, Lee Taeyong.” 

“No!” Taeyong cries hoarsely. “No, I do! Stay, let me--”

Ten pushes off the railing and staggers towards the sliding doors. “I’m leaving--”

“I love you!”

Ten stops. 

A warm hand takes his wrist in a gentle hold. “Tennie, please.”

Ten squeezes his eyes closed, and spins to face Taeyong. “Please explain.” 

“Can you open your eyes, first?” Taeyong’s voice is so small, it makes Ten’s heart ache. 

“No ,” he rebuffs. Taeyong swipes his fingers gently under his eyes, one at a time, clearing away the moisture leaking through. Ten blinks his eyes open and glares at the other boy. “Fine.”

Taeyong takes Ten’s other wrist, and lifts them both to his face. “I made you cry. I’m sorry, Tennie.” He presses a kiss to the delicate bones of his left wrist, then a matching one to his right. “I said it all wrong. I’m sorry.”

The icy cage around Ten’s heart begins to thaw. “Just say what you mean, Yongie. I’ll listen, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Taeyong presses Ten’s knuckles to both of his cheeks and exhales, long and slow. He threads their fingers together and lets their hands drop naturally between their bodies. “I do care about you. I meant that. And my wish - I want you by my side, Tennie, I do. Always. But that wasn’t my real wish. I was too scared to say it, before. But then you…”

“I kissed you,” Ten supplies. Taeyong smiles, a shaky and lovely thing. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “You kissed me.” For all the cracks and wobbles in his voice, Taeyong’s gaze is steadfast and resolute. “Every year I wish for the same thing, Tennie. That one day you would love me too."

Oh.

He squeezes Taeyong’s trembling fingers. “Too?” 

Taeyong nods. “I love you, Ten. I really do." He exhales, heavy and deep with satisfaction. He looks years younger than his true age as he gazes at Ten and asks, eyes sparkling with youthful hope, "So, what do you think? Is my Christmas wish too much?”

Ten sniffs.

"Lee Taeyong," he starts, voice scratchy with tears, "You have to work on your confessions. Where did you get that script from? A drama where the main couple misunderstood each other's feelings for twenty five straight episodes?"

Taeyong bites his lip. His eyebrows pinch in concern. 

Ten continues. "And telling someone you love them when they're crying! And their back is turned! What's with that?!"

"Does that mean you're rejecting me?" Taeyong makes to withdraw his hands, but Ten squeezes them tightly and doesn't let go.

"Reject you?" he repeats, incredulous. "Who kissed who, just now? Do you think I just go around kissing people?"

Taeyong's eyebrows flatten in confusion as his face flickers between worry and joy. "Technically you did kiss five people tonight," he says carefully.

"One of them was you," Ten points out. "Twice!"

Taeyong is starting to look genuinely tormented, and Ten realizes what he has to do. 

"Okay. You told me your wish, so I'll tell you my confession." He cringes at what he's about to say.

"This entire night was a set-up for you and me. The decorations, the mistletoe - Yang Yang put it there on purpose, for us. For me." He lets out a huge breath, then goes on. "He discovered my feelings for you a while back, and he came to me a few days ago with this crazy scheme to put up mistletoe at the party, to help me confess to you. I told him no, of course! But clearly he didn't listen." He squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment. "I  knew he was acting shady but I didn't think he'd actually go through with it. And then when we were playing rock paper scissors I kind of..." He cracks an eye open to watch Taeyong's reaction. "I lost. On purpose. Because I really did want to kiss you."

There, he said it. The worst of it is over, and if Taeyong is disappointed in him for manipulating him, he'll understand - 

Taeyong is grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. 

Ten half laughs and grimaces. "You're not mad at me?"

"Mad?" Taeyong's eyes are positively sparkling. "Of course not. That's so cute."

Ten drops his head forward onto Taeyong's chest to hide his pink cheeks. "Stop," he implores without heat.

Taeyong titters in amusement and folds his arms around Ten's shoulders. He squeezes tightly. "You must really like me, then."

Ten pops his head up. "Yongie, I love you so much that Yang Yang noticed."

The bluntness is worth it for the wondrous look that breaks across Taeyong's face. "You love me," he repeats, cupping Ten's cheeks between his palms. 

"You love me," Ten grins back. 

Taeyong leans down, brushing their noses together and capturing his lips in a series of kisses that only last for as long as they can stop smiling. 

"Merry Christmas, Tennie," he whispers. 

For the first time since he was a child, Ten finds himself believing in magic again.

“Merry Christmas, Yongie.” 

•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·'•,¸,.·☆·.,¸,•'·.,¸,• '·.,¸,•

It’s 11:42 PM when it starts to snow.

No one notices but Mark, who happened to get a notification about icy roads on his phone and wanders over to the balcony door now to take a better look. 

He cups his hands around his eyes and squints through the glass.

Teeny tiny snowflakes travel through the wind currents in little loops and arcs. "You gu-" He starts to call out for the others, then slams his mouth closed so hard he bites on his tongue, and groans in agony. 

"What's up?" Yang Yang calls from behind him, and Mark whips around in a panic. The Taiwanese boy is heading over here, smiling and squinting at the balcony doors in interest. "You okay?"

Mark turns sharply and smacks the floor-length curtain over the door so hard it slides closed a centimeter, then he smacks and pulls and it slides over a whole foot. 

There. That should cover them.

Yang Yang looks at him quizzically, then at the swaying, half-shut curtain. "Bro, you okay?"

"Mosquito!" Mark waves behind him vaguely. 

"Ew," Yang Yang makes a face. "In December?" Mark nods. "I hate them."

"Yeah, I killed it but let's not take any chances." He slings an arm around Yang Yang's shoulder and guides the boy away from the doors.

They're safely back in the center of the room, where the party is winding down for some and cranking up for others, when Yang Yang turns to him in question. "Oh, bro have you seen Ten lately? I keep thinking he'll appear over my shoulder, but I haven't seen him in ages." He shivers fearfully. 

Mark pretends to think about it. "Ten? Nah, he probably headed back early."

Yang Yang frowns in consideration, then shrugs. "Yeah, probably." He jabs his thumb at the tinsel-trimmed basketball hoop, where Jeno is already dribbling. "Hoops?"

Mark grins. “You're on.”