Work Text:
❅
The house was packed with students from every faculty imaginable. Music thundered through the walls, so loud Jisung could barely hear his own thoughts, and the flashing, multicolored lights made his vision swim. It took him a moment to even make out the Merry Xmas sign strung crookedly across the living room.
He couldn’t help staring.
Everyone seemed dressed as if the party were less about celebrating and more about flirting, short skirts, low necklines, and bodies pressed close together.
Jisung glanced down at himself, suddenly hyper-aware of his outfit: a green-and-red cardigan over a crisp white button-up, and a neatly knotted red tie. He’d put real effort into looking Christmas-themed. Perched atop his straightened chocolate-brown hair was a reindeer headband, the antlers wobbling slightly every time he moved.
He had also tried to cover his freckles with makeup but gave up on it quickly.
He blushed hard when he passed a couple openly making out on his way to the kitchen, only relaxing when he spotted Donghyuck. He already had a cup in hand, laughing at something Mark had said. The way they leaned into each other made them look painfully in love, and Jisung hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, but being alone felt worse.
“Hey!” he said, forcing a smile when they turned toward him. “Hi, hyungs.”
Donghyuck immediately lit up and pulled him into a hug, squeezing until Jisung let out a small whine and tried to wriggle free. Mark followed by patting his shoulder, smiling warmly.
“Jisungie! I honestly thought you wouldn’t come,” Donghyuck said, eyes roaming over his outfit. “You look so adorable.”
“Good to see you, Ji,” Mark added, handing him a cup. When Jisung sniffed it suspiciously, Mark laughed. “It’s lemon soda.”
“Oh,” Jisung murmured. “I thought it was alcohol.”
“It’s already weird enough that you showed up to a party,” Donghyuck said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Now you want alcohol too?”
“I—I mean—” Jisung stammered, cheeks heating up. “I just thought… since I came, you know…”
Mark hummed thoughtfully, then suddenly placed his hands on Jisung’s shoulders, expression turning serious.
“You can drink,” he said carefully. “But don’t lose sight of your cup. Keep track of how many you’ve had. And if you feel dizzy, you drink water.” He ticked each rule off with a finger, eyes full of genuine concern.
Jisung nodded quickly, a little intimidated by the shift in tone.
“Good,” Mark said, satisfied. “Go have fun.”
Donghyuck leaned in next, squishing Jisung’s cheeks between his hands. “If anyone’s rude to you, you ask for their name, and then you come straight to me, okay?”
Jisung rolled his eyes but nodded anyway, watching as the couple drifted off to greet other friends.
Once alone, he poured a small splash of vodka into his cup. He took a cautious sip, and didn’t hate it. As he looked around, he debated where to go. The backyard was crowded with couples, the living room packed with dancers, and the front yard was a chaotic mess of already-drunk students.
He settled for a narrow corner near the kitchen, the quietest spot when no one was grabbing drinks, with a clear view of the living room. Minutes passed like that, until Chenle and Jeno spotted him and headed over, both wearing amused expressions.
“So you finally left your virgin zone,” Chenle teased. He burst out laughing when Jisung smacked his arm. “Maybe tonight you’ll pull someone to help with that.”
“Shut up,” Jisung hissed, mortified. “That’s not why I came.”
“Stop teasing him,” Jeno said, wrapping an arm around Chenle’s waist. “He’ll blush even harder, and then someone will actually flirt with him.”
Jisung groaned and shoved them away, already exhausted from being the center of attention.
Three cups of vodka mixed with soda later, Jisung really needed to pee. The idea of the bathroom made him uneasy; he half-expected to walk in on something… unwanted. Still, his bladder didn’t give him much of a choice.
He weaved carefully through the crowd and knocked on the door, hoping it was empty, and that whoever was inside would hear him. Thankfully, it was.
He was quick about it, washing his hands right after, when a sudden knock made him jump. Jisung opened the door to find a girl and a boy waiting outside, both looking far too impatient for comfort. He slipped past them without a word.
Heart still beating a little fast, he returned to his corner, doing his best not to think about it.
Jisung did his best to convince himself he was having fun.
He swayed gently to a few songs he recognized, mouthing along to the lyrics when the crowd around him got too loud. Every now and then, he went searching for his hyungs, only to find them mid-conversation, mid-laughter, already drifting away again the moment he joined. He smiled, nodded, listened, and then was left alone once more.
He kept drinking, slowly at first, then without really counting. When the room began to tilt a little too much beneath his feet, he panicked and switched to water, clutching the cup like it was a lifeline.
His cheeks were warm. His head felt light, fuzzy around the edges. Not drunk, just… floaty. That was normal, right?
And then it happened.
Jisung lifted his gaze toward the living room and froze.
There was a Santa. On the table.
Dancing.
No, twerking.
Jisung blinked. Once. Twice. His vision stubbornly refused to correct itself.
“W—What?” he whispered, staring in stunned disbelief.
Because surely, surely, he couldn’t be drunk enough to hallucinate a Santa shaking his ass on someone’s coffee table.
He edged closer, curiosity pulling him forward despite himself, and then he finally saw him properly.
He was… devastatingly handsome. His eyes glittered with mischief, bright and alive, brimming with an almost reckless, playful energy. The grin on his face was pure trouble, teasing enough that Jisung felt heat rush to his cheeks just imagining standing that close to someone like him.
He was dressed in a Santa costume, but Jisung had never considered the possibility that someone could look that sexy in one. The red-and-white fabric clung tighter than expected, stretched over broad shoulders and strong arms, every movement making the material strain in ways that felt unfair. And when he turned…
Jisung swallowed.
The man laughed as he danced, shamelessly twerking atop the living room table, feeding off the cheers and laughter around him. The crowd followed his rhythm, caught up in his energy, eyes fixed on him as if he’d cast some kind of spell.
And standing there, heart racing, Jisung thought he might be caught in it too.
And then it happened.
Their eyes met.
Hazel, warm and sharp all at once, locked onto him through the chaos of the room, cutting straight through the lights, the noise, the bodies pressed together. It felt far too intentional, like the man wasn’t just looking around but had chosen him. Jisung’s breath caught, his chest tightening as if he’d been caught doing something forbidden.
For one suspended heartbeat, Jisung wondered if this was what being drunk felt like. If his mind had finally slipped and decided to invent something this intense.
Then the man winked.
Slow. Deliberate. Paired with a crooked smirk that promised trouble.
“Oh my God,” Jisung breathed, face burning, pulse thundering in his ears.
Panic surged, hot and overwhelming, and before he could talk himself out of it, his body moved on instinct.
He turned and fled, disappearing into the crowd as fast as his legs would carry him, heart racing long after he was out of sight.
❅
He was mortified.
Jisung had never been the type to fall for pretty faces, much less handsome ones. Definitely not the kind of person who lost his composure over some ridiculously hot guy at a party. And yet, here he was, heart still racing, cheeks still burning, completely unable to shake the memory of that wink and that infuriating smirk.
He slipped into Donghyuck’s bedroom without thinking, his feet carrying him to the safest place he knew. He stopped by the desk, gripping its edge as he tried to steady his breathing.
“It’s just— it was—” he muttered, faltering, and turning the lamp on.
The words refused to come, because he didn’t even understand it himself.
He sat down on the gamer chair, trying to focus on something else. When he noticed a slight problem on his pants.
Jisung froze completely.
“No, no, no—” he whispered, staring down in disbelief at the bulk on his pants, mortification flooding through him.
Since when had his body decided to betray him like this? He groaned softly, face burning, suddenly very aware that he felt like a flustered, out-of-control teenager all over again.
Just when he was calming himself thinking he could wait till it was down…
Knock. Knock.
Jisung then felt all his hopes and dreams break into pieces.
He’d expected it to be Donghyuck. Or Mark. That would’ve been mortifying, sure, but manageable.
What he absolutely wasn’t prepared for was him.
The very same Santa guy from the living room stood in the doorway, with the buttons of his costume loosened just enough to reveal a well-built chest and a toned abdomen that looked unfairly solid under the soft lighting. The sight alone made Jisung’s situation feel ten times worse.
His jaw dropped before he could stop himself.
“Oh,” the Santa said, eyes flicking lazily over Jisung’s frozen form, amusement curling his lips. “So this is where you ran off to.”
His voice was warm and smooth, far too calm for someone who’d just been caught in the middle of Jisung’s internal crisis.
Jisung’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
“I—I thought—” he started, then gave up entirely, shrinking back in the chair as if that might somehow make him disappear. “You— I— This is Donghyuck’s room.”
The Santa guy hummed, clearly pleased, and stepped fully inside, nudging the door shut with his foot. The click sounded far too loud.
“Relax,” he said lightly, tilting his head. “I’m not here to steal anything.” His gaze dipped, brief and pointed, before lifting again. “Though it seems like you already took something with you from downstairs.”
Jisung’s face went nuclear.
“I didn’t—!” he squeaked, clamping his hands over his lap like his life depended on it. “I mean—I wasn’t— You just— You winked at me!”
He laughed, low and delighted, like that had been exactly the right answer. He leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, Santa coat hanging open in a way that felt deliberate now.
“Guilty,” he said. “You looked cute standing there, staring like you’d seen a ghost.”
“I was confused,” Jisung muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “You were on a table.”
“Twerking,” Jaemin supplied cheerfully.
“That’s not helping!”
The Santa guy pushed off the desk and took one slow step closer. Jisung immediately scooted back in the chair until it bumped softly against the desk behind him.
“Hey,” he said, voice dropping just enough to make Jisung’s stomach flip. “You don’t have to run away, you know.”
“I wasn’t running,” Jisung lied weakly.
The stranger smiled again, soft this time, but still dangerous. “Sure you were. But that’s okay.” He leaned down slightly, close enough that Jisung could smell peppermint and something warmer underneath. “I like shy.”
Jisung’s brain completely stopped working.
“I don’t even know you…” Jisung said quietly.
That only seemed to amuse him more.
The guy’s smile spread slow and pleased. “Jaemin,” he said. “Your Santa for tonight.” His eyes sparkled when Jisung instinctively shrank into himself. “Now it’s your turn, cutie.”
Jisung hesitated. He thought about dodging the question, but under that steady, knowing gaze, hiding felt impossible.
“Jisung,” he murmured. “My name is Jisung.”
Jaemin hummed, clearly approving. He took a step closer, then another, eyes roaming over him in a way that made Jisung’s pulse spike and his instincts scream run. Before he could act on it, Jaemin braced his hands against the chair, boxing him in.
Jisung forgot how to breathe.
“Tell me, Jisunggie,” Jaemin whispered, voice deceptively sweet, “are you drunk?”
Jisung shook his head quickly, eyes wide, never once breaking contact. His throat bobbed when Jaemin smirked again.
“Good,” Jaemin said softly. Then he straightened just enough for his presence to feel heavier, more intimidating. “Now tell me, are you of age?”
Even if Jisung had wanted to lie, he couldn’t. Those eyes pinned him in place, the truth spilling out before he could stop it.
“I—I turned twenty-two this year,” he said quickly, like he was being questioned under a spotlight.
He saw it then.
The shift in Jaemin’s gaze, the way the playful glint sharpened into something heavier, darker.
Lust, unmistakable and unapologetic, flickered in those hazel eyes.
“If I tell you right now,” Jaemin murmured, voice dropping until it felt like it wrapped around Jisung’s spine, “that this hyung could help you with that little problem you’re dealing with down there…” He leaned closer, close enough that Jisung could feel the warmth of him, smell peppermint and something intoxicating beneath it. “What would you say?”
Jisung’s mind went completely blank.
He’d imagined a lot of things when he’d agreed to come to this party, awkward conversations, too much noise, maybe a headache by the end of the night. He had never, not once, imagined being cornered by a dangerously attractive Santa offering something that made his pulse thunder and his stomach twist.
He had options. Plenty of them.
He could say no.
He could shove Jaemin away and bolt for the door.
He could call Donghyuck, embarrass himself completely, maybe even kick this guy on the balls and deal with the consequences later.
All reasonable choices.
Instead, his body betrayed him.
His breath came shallow, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as if anchoring himself there. Those eyes, so intent, so focused entirely on him, made it impossible to think straight. Jaemin wasn’t touching him, not really, but his presence alone felt overwhelming, caging him in without force.
Jaemin noticed. Of course he did.
The corner of his mouth lifted, slow and knowing. “You’re thinking very loudly right now,” he teased softly. “I can practically hear it.”
“I—” Jisung tried, but the word dissolved into nothing. His throat felt dry. “You’re… you’re very close.”
“Mm,” Jaemin hummed, not moving an inch. “I know.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and electric. The music from downstairs felt distant now, muffled, like the rest of the world had narrowed to this room and the space between them.
Jaemin tilted his head slightly, gaze softening just a fraction. “I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he said, quieter now. “But you don’t look like you want me to leave either.”
Jisung swallowed hard.
He hated how right he was.
His shoulders slumped, tension bleeding out of him as the truth settled in. Against his better judgment, against every sensible instinct screaming in his head…
He melted under those eyes.
“P-Please… help me,” Jisung whispered, voice trembling, eyes glassy as they searched Jaemin’s face. “Jaemin hyung.”
❅
That did it.
Something unmistakably shifted in Jaemin’s expression, the teasing edge melting into something darker, more intent. He didn’t rush. Instead, he reached out and caught Jisung by the nape, firm but careful, guiding his head back just enough to make their breaths mingle.
His lips brushed Jisung’s first, barely there, a deliberate tease that made Jisung’s breath hitch. Instinctively, his hands fisted in the front of the Santa coat, clinging like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
Then Jaemin closed the distance.
When their lips met properly, Jisung felt it everywhere, warmth blooming in his chest, his heart slamming so hard it almost hurt. The kiss was rushed but certain, like Jaemin already knew exactly how this would affect him. Jisung melted into it without thinking, all his nervousness dissolving into heat and need.
He could barely keep up with Jaemin’s practiced moves. His own movements felt clumsy in comparison, lips unsure and inexperienced, but Jaemin didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, he took control effortlessly, guiding the kiss without hesitation, like he’d already decided Jisung didn’t need to know what he was doing.
When Jaemin brushed his tongue teasingly against Jisung’s lips, a silent question, Jisung answered without thinking, parting his mouth, breath hitching.
The sensation sent a shock through him. The hot thing was exploring him and tasting him so sweetly. It felt warm and dizzying, unfamiliar in the best possible way, leaving his thoughts scattered as a whimper slipped from his throat. He slumped back against the chair, completely overwhelmed, Jaemin looming over him like he belonged there.
When Jaemin finally pulled away, it was slow, deliberate, a line of saliva joined them before breaking.
He smiled, thumb brushing gently along Jisung’s cheek. “You’re not very good at this, cutie,” he murmured, voice fond rather than mocking. “But if that’s the face you’re going to make every time…” His smile deepened. “I don’t mind at all.”
Jisung was burning red now, eyes unfocused and dazed, like Jaemin had just undone him with nothing more than a kiss.
“C-Can I have more?” Jisung asked before knowing what he was doing. “Please, Hyung.”
Jaemin cooed at him. “Of course, baby. I’ll give you more.”
Then, Jaemin moved to carefully lift him up from the chair. Jisung slightly panicked and grabbed tightly at him before being put down on the mattress. He sat there, looking up at Jaemin.
“I see it keeps being awake,” he teased, his hands gently caressing his thigh and going up to his erection. Jisung’s breath hitched; his hands grabbed the bedsheets firmly. “Do you want me to help you, baby?”
Jisung whimpered at the pet name. And Jaemin noticed, of course.
“Y-Yes, Hyung, please,” he mumbled, gulping down hard. “I-It hurts.”
Jaemin’s right hand continued touching him above the clothes, while his other hand lifted Jisung’s chin up.
He kissed him again, slow and deeply. Jisung followed after him when he pulled away. He then saw Jaemin spread his legs open in a smooth movement, and his hand working the zipper of his pants down.
Jisung covered his mouth with his hand, not trusting himself to be quiet at that sight. But Jaemin stopped his motion, and his eyes went darker.
“Don’t,” he said, voice firm and commanding. Jisung immediately moved his hand away. “I want to hear you, baby.”
Jisung bit his lip, a needy sound slipping out of him. “S-Sorry, Hyung.”
Jaemin seemed pleased, and turned to finally set free the erection of the younger one. Jisung felt shy about how he looked at his dick. Jaemin’s eyes sparkled as if they were seeing the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Oh, God, it’s so cute,” he whispered, one hand holding it gently. Jisung trembled. “Look, it’s so soft and clean,” he marveled.
Jisung whined out of embarrassment. “H-Hyung!”
“I love it so much,” Jaemin added, grabbing it with both hands and making it rest against his cheek. Jisung's eyes stung. “Baby, I’ll make you feel good, okay?”
Jisung didn’t trust himself to answer, so he nodded. But under the intense eyes of Jaemin, he knew he needed to talk. “P-Please, Hyung.”
“Such a good baby.” He smiled proudly.
Then, he finally shoved Jisung’s cock into his mouth.
He had never been sucked off before, so he couldn’t compare Jaemin’s abilities with anyone. But Jisung could swear he was perfect at it.
His mouth was hollowed, his tongue covered the bottom teeth and was sucking him so sweetly as if his cock was the most delicious thing Jaemin had ever tasted. He sometimes took it so deep Jisung could feel the older’s throat around himself, twitching at the intrusion but taking it so well.
Jisung whimpered when Jaemin gagged. His hands went to grab the white hair and ground himself to not lose it. He felt himself trembling, his hips moving ever so slightly, wanting to fuck the other’s mouth so desperately, but he was being held down firmly by those veiny hands.
Unknowingly, he closed his legs and trapped Jaemin between them. He tried not to squish him, so he looked at him. The sight was too much.
The older one was stuffed with his dick, his cheeks red and eyes teary. But he still looked so hot and perfect, Jisung gently caressed his face, as if Jaemin was the most precious thing in the world.
“H-Hyung,” he mumbled out, trying to slow him down. “You’re—You’re so hot right now.”
Jaemin’s eyes sparkled.
He then bobbed his head faster, taking Jisung deeper and sucking him more. Jisung moaned at the sudden action, his whole body curling inward, his head almost touching Jaemin’s. His cock was pounding so deliciously into Jaemin’s mouth that he couldn't last any longer. Jisung started crying, and his body trembled.
“S-Stop!” He tried, losing his legs' grip so Jaemin could back off. But the older one didn’t move. “Hyung, I-I—Stop, I’ll cum!” He panicked, crying already at the orgasm that was growing inside him, hot and powerful. “N-No!”
He moaned loudly, dropping backwards into the bed and feeling his hot body trembling at the release of his spunk deep at Jaemin’s throat, still working his cum out as if it was milking him. Jisung whimpered at the overstimulation, grabbing the bedsheets tightly.
Pop.
He felt a weight above him, caging him down against the mattress. Jisung’s mind was so high on his orgasm that he didn’t register when he saw Jaemin swallow.
It took a few seconds.
“D-Did you just-”
“Yep,” Jaemin smirked at Jisung’s totally messed-up face. “You taste funny, baby.”
Jisung opened his mouth, then closed it again. He closed his eyes and surrendered.
It was then that he felt two strong and mischievous hands sliding down his arms to his waist. They went underneath, and in one swift motion, his pants and underwear were pulled down.
Jisung rushed up on his elbows, blushed, and was so lost. “H-Hyung?”
He glanced down and saw his soft dick resting against his belly. He hadn’t noticed when Jaemin lifted his sweater. And then he was without pants or underwear.
Jaemin stared at him and grabbed his legs, pushing them up to Jisung’s chest. He seemed excited.
“I’m just getting started, baby.” He then positioned himself down.
Jisung couldn't understand until he felt it hot and wet, teasing his rim so smoothly.
“J-Jaemin!” He panicked, again. He tried to wriggle away, but the older one held him tightly.
“You look so tight, I need to loosen you up,” he said, before again caressing him with his tongue.
Jisung wasn’t following him until it pressed inside him.
His body trembled and went limp against the bed. The hot tongue moved gently against his warm walls; it was working him open so sweetly that Jisung couldn’t complain about it feeling weird now.
Then a finger was pressed alongside the tongue. He clenched around them, and Jaemin patted his butt softly, as if saying relax.
So he did.
He focused on his breathing, trying to ignore the slight pain and totally weird sensation of being fingered for the first time. And then, it went so deep that Jaemin’s finger pressed a very sensitive zone.
“Ah!” Jisung moaned against himself, looking stricken by something too new and overwhelming. “W-What?”
Jaemin seemed motivated because he moved his finger to caress it again and again. Jisung was trying not to squirm too much and be quiet, but it was such a hard task for him.
The tears slid down his cheeks, and his mouth couldn't help but let out obscene sounds at Jaemin’s movements.
A second finger came, then a third one, and his entrance was already wet and squelching every time Jaemin fingerfucked him. He took his tongue out and seemed to hum, deep in thought.
He stopped and pulled away, earning a groan from Jisung.
The younger one turned around to look at him, searching by the nightstand’s drawers and finally finding whatever he was looking for. It was a half-empty purple bottle.
Lube.
Jisung blushed.
“Now this will be easier,” Jaemin said sweetly. He moved back to his position and glanced at Jisung.
He was waiting so patiently, looking so ruined yet adorable. Jaemin felt his dick twitch.
“Jisunggie, you look so beautiful like this,” he whispered. Something in his voice gave away how stunned he was.
Jisung blushed and naturally tried to cover his face. But Jaemin caught his hands and pinned them above his head, stopping him from hiding.
“H-Hyung…”
Jaemin tsked, and slowed himself to bite the younger one's cheek. Jisung whined when he licked it.
“Jaemin!”
“Don't cover your pretty face, I'm looking at it,” he growled.
“O-Okay, I got it…” He whispered, surrendering under those hazel eyes.
“Hmm.” Jaemin set free one of his hands and grabbed him by the mouth, squishing his cheeks. “You really look so adorable.”
Jisung felt his face so hot. He closed his eyes, but felt the grip tightening, so he opened them up.
“You're so sexy too, baby.”
Jisung then pushed himself up and kissed him, a bit clumsily and hurriedly, but it worked. The older one controlled the kiss way better than him, and both relaxed a lot more after it.
“How do you taste yourself?” Jaemin chuckled, his smirk was nasty.
Jisung licked his lip and looked so cute while actually trying to taste himself. “I-I don't know… “
“God, I wanna keep you forever,” he squished him tightly before finally releasing him.
He grabbed a pillow and shoved under Jisung’s butt, pulling him up. He then poured a generous amount of lube on his hand, warming it up before sliding his fingers into him again.
Jisung sighed at the sensation; it felt so different. A big difference.
He couldn’t get used to the wet sensation in his entrance but the gentle movements of Jaemin’s fingers were so smooth that he relaxed quickly.
“That's it, baby.” Jaemin smiled, his fingers fucking him slowly. “Relax for me.”
When Jisung suddenly squished him inside and let out a teary moan, Jaemin smirked.
“Found it again~”
“W-What is that?” Jisung asked, breathing heavily. “It feels— weird.”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow. His fingers then pressed at it again, and Jisung whimpered, his body trembling.
“Oh. Oh.”
Jaemin chuckled, then caressed his thighs. His fingers then moved quicker, deeper into him, making Jisung bounce up a little, the squelching sound making the younger one get shy.
“Look who's up again,” Jaemin suddenly said, making Jisung glance down at his dick being half-erected again. “Hi, cute thing.”
“D-Don't talk to it!” Jisung blushed.
Jaemin pouted, then moved his hand to caress the messy and sticky pink dick that was greeting him. “Why not? He likes me.”
Jisung struggled to come up with an answer, but he let it go when Jaemin suddenly sped up the rhythm.
“W-Wait!”
“Tell me he likes me,” his voice was tinted with mischief, and his eyes were so fox-like. Jisung felt trapped.
“H-Hyung!”
Jaemin then jerked him off slowly, so delicately that his hand was barely touching him at all. His fingers, on the contrary, were making a total mess of his pink hole. Jisung whimpered pathetically, his eyes glassy.
“Yes! Yes, now stop!”
Jaemin hummed thoughtfully. “Say it better.”
Jisung squirmed under him, his legs trembling. “J-Jaemin Hyung, you can talk to my dick— Please.”
He stopped, and Jisung breathed again. He now had a full erection and a mess of lube and spit dripping down his hole, still stuffed with Jaemin's fingers.
“You're so sweet, always saying please.” Jaemin purred. “I love it.”
He then pulled out his fingers, letting Jisung get himself comfortable before grabbing his Santa pants and pulling them down, alongside his underwear, revealing his cock.
Jisung locked his eyes on it.
It was big, bigger than him. And it was veiny, so veiny and clean. It was already hard and a bit wet with precum.
Jisung gulped down.
“Do you like it?” Jaemin teased, jerking himself with his lube fingers, trying to get himself wet.
Jisung nodded shyly, but Jaemin tsked so he made an effort to speak. “Yes, Hyung.”
The older one seemed lost in his thoughts for a bit, and Jisung couldn't read his expression. His eyes seemed as if he were deciding on something. After a few seconds, he then lowered himself to kiss Jisung again.
This time, it felt so intimate.
His lips were soft and gentle against him, guiding Jisung into melting back on the bed. Then he moved to his neck, kissing so sweetly it sent chills over Jisung’s body. He then bit down, not hurtfully, but enough to leave a mark, then kissed it as if adoring it.
He then moved a bit lower, sucking just above his clavicle. Jisung moaned, his hands going to grab Jaemin’s arms, squeezing his muscles.
Jaemin then aligned himself with Jisung’s pinky and messy hole, and pressed himself into it, gently.
Jisung panicked, tightening his grip and opening his mouth. Jaemin finished leaving a hickey and quickly went to fuck Jisung’s mouth with his tongue, distracting him.
He swallowed all those moans and whimpers from the younger one as he pushed himself deeper inside his warm walls.
Jisung sobbed when he stopped. Tears falling down his dazed eyes, feeling so full right now.
The white haired one didn't move his hip, but adjusted his position to be kneeling. He then caressed Jisung’s legs and went up to his low belly.
Jisung glanced down and saw it.
A belly bulge.
“So beautiful…” Jaemin seemed fascinated by it, his hand gently touched it, and Jisung whimpered. “How do you feel?”
Jisung struggled with the words, but Jaemin didn't rush him. The older one seemed lost in admiring him right now, as if trying to memorize every detail about how Jisung looked right now.
“Full…”
Jaemin chuckled softly, looking at him fondly. “Do you like it?”
Jisung blushed and nodded. But Jaemin pressed his hand against the bulge, and Jisung felt as if the stars fell upon him. “Words, baby.”
“I-I love it!” Jisung hurried to say, breathing again when the pressure went away.
Jaemin then grabbed one of his legs and put it above his shoulder, leaving the other one on the bed.
He smirked.
“I'm gonna fuck you so good now, Jisunggie.”
And Jisung believed him.
❅
Jisung was letting out watery moans every time Jaemin pounded right into his sweet spot, and the older one tried to do so very often.
His pace was slow but deep, rolling his hips with such precision it made Jisung wonder how he was so good at this.
Jisung started sweating and so did Jaemin, who finally took off the Santa coat. He then paused to let Jisung take off his cardigan and helped him button off his white shirt.
Jaemin’s eyes sparkled at him.
“Your body looks so soft,” he couldn't help himself and whispered as soon as he saw him.
“I-It's not built up like yours though…” Jisung tried to joke, but Jaemin tsked as he pressed himself deep inside him, making Jisung gasp. He caged him with both arms around his head and looked directly into his eyes. “Uh…”
“Your body is perfect, baby.” Jaemin sounded so sure that Jisung thought he didn't know what his body looked like. “I want to mark you entirely.”
“M-Mark me?”
“Hmm, with hickeys and bites.” Jaemin smiled mischievously, his voice filled with trouble.
Jisung blinked, and then pulled him closer for a quick peck on the lips. “Okay, Hyung.”
Jaemin was stunned. And his eyes dilated ever so slightly.
He then moved quicker, his thrusts hitting Jisung with a steady pace and still deep. His mouth started kissing every bit of skin he could, now and then sucking and leaving hickeys where he thought would make Jisung look more beautiful. More his.
Jisung was melting, whimpering and moaning when it was too much, but never asking the other to stop. He even started moving his hips a bit, trying to meet Jaemin’s thrusts.
It was when Jaemin sucked his nipple that Jisung cried out. His hands stopped gripping the bed and went to that white hair instead.
Jaemin took it as a motivation, so he slid his other hand to rub circles on the pink button, tugging in.
“A-Ah! Hyuuuung—” Jisung tightened his grip.
Pop.
Jisung blushed at the obscene sound, watching as Jaemin stilled and looked at him.
“We're gonna have to use your tie.”
The younger one didn't think what for, he just let Jaemin take it off, but was very curious when his tie was tied up around both of his hands. Jisung gulped down.
“This way you won't leave me hairless, baby.” Jaemin winked.
He then started sucking Jisung’s nipple again, which was already swollen and reddish. Jisung moaned when it joined a harsher rhythm of thrusts.
Jaemin’s cock was sliding so smoothly inside him, it felt wet and warm, the lube and spit making a total mess on him. He could feel the older's balls hitting against his butt, slapping him, and squelching. It sounded so dirty.
Jisung tried not to close his eyes, looking at him. Jaemin was so focused on leaving his body full of marks, his hair was messy and his body glistened with a fine line of sweat. His cologne smelled incredible, but now it was tinted with something so hot and sexy.
Jisung whimpered at him. He was so much, this guy, and yet he was there with him.
He was fucking him.
Jaemin seemed to think it was enough for his pink button and straightened up to admire his art. His smirk grew wider, a sense of possessiveness covering his expression.
Jisung was totally vulnerable. His messy hair was starting to naturally curl, making him look so adorable. His reindeer headband was crooked and almost completely off his head. He was still wearing the white shirt, but it was wrinkled and left everything in view. And his face, oh.
He was blushing, as Jaemin learned it was so easy for him to be, and his watery eyes were sparkling, a bit dazed, but Jisung was looking at him like Jaemin was something incredible out of this world. It was almost as…
A kid who saw Santa Claus was real.
Jaemin then lowered the leg above his shoulder, adjusted his position so he was pressing against the cute guy in the bed, his hands holding him firmly by the waist, and he groaned.
“Where have you been all this time?” He genuinely looked angry at the idea of not being able to find Jisung before.
And the younger one felt the pressure inside him, and mumbled out the first thing he could come up with. “P-Playing League of Legends—Ah!”
Jisung wasn't expecting a spank on his butt, he was surprised. And Jaemin was smiling so endearingly at him, that he understood it was because of how cute Jisung was.
“Oh, definitely, I'm gonna keep you,” he said, sure and decided.
He then started fucking him for real.
Jisung gasped and tried to calm down his moans, but his mouth was letting all these filthy sounds roll out of him. He was now bouncing on Jaemin’s cock, his whole body being pushed by it, his hair and everything, and Jaemin was loving the sight.
His cock was pounding so rudely, as if it wanted to be buried inside him entirely every time, and sometimes it pressed his sweet spot, making Jisung cry out.
“O-Oh! Hyung! J-Jaemin!” Jisung moved his tied-up hands to grip the bedsheets in an attempt to endure it.
“You're doing so good, baby,” Jaemin purred, sounding agitated but still filled with lust. “You're taking my cock so well, cutie. Oh, bounce for me.” He pounded harder, his balls hitting Jisung's butt.
The younger one whimpered, being filled every time and feeling a warm sensation growing up from his dick. It felt so good.
Jaemin seemed to notice, looking at the cute dick dripping precum against Jisung’s belly. And he rushed his pace more.
Jisung’s eyes rolled back, and his mouth was open, but nothing more than pathetic sounds came out of it.
“Can I cum inside, baby?”
Even when Jisung was the one who was being asked, he felt like Jaemin had already decided. But he still made an extra effort to speak, to permit him.
“Y-Yes!— Ahg!”
Jaemin moved his arms to hold him, so now his chest was pressing against Jisung, then he kissed him passionately.
Jisung moaned at the tongue, which was dominant and made him feel more dizzy and flustered. He opened his mouth more, his tied hands trying to hold Jaemin down.
Jaemin then broke the kiss and leaned into his ear, biting and licking it before whispering. “Cum for me, baby.”
Jisung felt his orgasm explode. His dick was pressed under Jaemin’s hot body and the friction of the bouncing was more than enough. Added that, Jaemin was still fucking him hard and deep, the obscene sounds filling the room.
“J-Jaemin!” He moaned, cumming a second time, harsh and overwhelming.
Jisung went limp, his chest rising with every deep breath he tried to take, his head felt so light and dazed, but he also felt unmistakably happy.
“Ah, I'm so close— Gonna fill you up, baby.” His breath hitched, feeling Jisung twitch. “Jisunggie!”
Jaemin then groaned, the warm walls squeezed him and he gave one more thrust at Jisung’s sweet spot and finally cummed inside him.
The pressure was so delicious, Jisung’s eyes went wide at the sudden tingling sensation of his dick, and then he panicked.
“O-Oh, wait— Ah!” He tried to warn him, but it was too late.
Jisung’s dick squirted.
And Jaemin quickly pulled away to watch it.
Jisung was a total mess, his own cum on his belly and now wet by his juices. The belly bulge was still there, since Jaemin was deep inside him, and those warm walls were also filled with his hot cum.
Jisung was trembling, cheeks flushed and breath coming unevenly, as he’d just made it through something overwhelming. He looked completely undone, vulnerable in a way that made Jaemin’s chest ache.
Because at that moment, more than anything else, Jaemin thought he was the cutest boy he’d ever seen.
He leaned down slowly, pressing gentle kisses to Jisung’s skin, each one soft and unhurried, as if grounding him. His touch was careful, almost reverent, soothing rather than demanding.
“You did so well, baby,” Jaemin murmured, voice warm and sincere. “You’re perfect. So perfect.” His words were filled with such tenderness that Jisung let out a small, helpless sound. “You’re so beautiful.”
“H-Hyung—” Jisung tried, words slipping away from him. He pouted faintly, gathering what little strength he had left. “Kiss.”
Jaemin chuckled, fond and breathless, before leaning in to give him the sweetest kiss he could, slow, gentle, and full of something warm and reassuring.
Something that felt exactly right.
The older one then straightened and pulled out. His lustful eyes never looked away from that pink abused hole dripping with his cum. He moved his hand to squeeze Jisung’s asscheek, pulling it to the side so he could look better, and the younger one whined but let him do so.
“I think I might get addicted to this view,” Jaemin admitted quietly, his gaze never leaving Jisung.
Jisung let his eyes fall shut, sinking back against the bed, warmth spreading through him at the words. His heart hammered in his chest as he gathered what little courage he had left. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a breath.
“Me too…”
The air shifted.
Jisung felt movement, decisive, sudden, and when he opened his eyes, Jaemin was above him, bracing himself carefully, presence overwhelming in the best possible way.
“Is that so?” Jaemin asked, tone low and serious now, as if the answer mattered more than anything else in that moment.
And somehow, Jisung knew it did. This wasn’t teasing anymore. This was something that could change the shape of things.
“Yes, hyung,” he replied softly, a shy, almost hopeful smile curving his lips.
Jaemin studied him for a long second, then a slow smirk tugged at his mouth. He nodded once, as a decision had just been sealed.
“Then it’s settled,” he said gently. “We’ll talk about everything after I take care of you.”
And Jisung believed him.
Jisung hummed softly in agreement, letting the warmth linger, until something felt off.
It was too quiet.
The distant thrum of music, the laughter, the chaos of the party, it was all gone.
“Is… is the party over?” he asked, eyes drifting to Jaemin as he adjusted his Santa pants, movements unhurried and relaxed.
Jaemin smiled like it was nothing. “Don’t worry. I talked to Donghyuck before coming up here,” he said easily, heading toward the bathroom to grab some tissues. “I told him I was really into you, and that I wanted some privacy with you in his room.”
Jisung’s eyes widened. “What—?”
“He did threaten to kill me,” Jaemin added casually, like an afterthought. “Mark too. But once they realized I wasn’t drunk, they calmed down.” He chuckled at the expression on Jisung’s face. “They even pointed me to the good supplies.”
Jisung made a small, strangled sound, mortified.
Jaemin returned to him then, hands gentle and careful as he started cleaning him up. His touch was warm, steady, grounding in a way that made Jisung’s shoulders slowly relax.
“They texted me a few minutes ago,” Jaemin continued softly. “They’re ending the party early. Said they’d leave us the house.”
Jisung gasped again. “What?!”
Jaemin hummed, clearly entertained. “They’ve really wanted you to get laid, baby,” he teased lightly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.
Jisung choked on a sound and immediately rolled over, burying his burning face into the bed. A soft whine escaped him as he tried to disappear entirely.
Jaemin laughed under his breath. “If you show me that cute butt a minute longer,” he warned playfully, “I'll bite it.”
Jisung spun around so fast he startled himself, only to find Jaemin already standing close by.
“It’s just—” he stuttered, cheeks flaming. “You know… It’s embarrassing.”
Jaemin’s expression softened as he undid the tie of his hands. Then, without another word, he slid one arm beneath Jisung’s back and the other under his legs, lifting him with ease. Jisung instinctively clutched at his shoulders, caught completely off guard.
“You have really good friends, Jisunggie,” Jaemin said honestly as he carried him toward the bathroom.
Jisung noticed that the bathtub was already filled with warm water, steam curling gently in the air.
“They care about you,” Jaemin added quietly.
Jisung sighed, a little overwhelmed, because he knew it was true.
Jaemin carefully set him down beside the tub, movements slow and considerate. “You should take a bath,” he said gently. “Take your time. I’ll clean up the mess we made.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, earning another soft whine. “Donghyuck said you can use whatever you want.”
Then he stepped back, giving Jisung space, and closed the door behind him.
Leaving Jisung alone with warmth, quiet, and a heart that felt very, very full.
❅
Jisung stood in the bathroom as a system error had just occurred.
The bathtub was ready, warm water gently steaming, bubbles clinging to the edges like it was inviting him personally. The lights were soft. Calm. Peaceful.
And yet.
He was still standing there in his wrinkled white button-up, sleeves half-rolled, tie long abandoned somewhere in Donghyuck’s room, freckles blazing across his cheeks like he’d been left too close to the sun. His chocolate curls were a mess, doing whatever they wanted, probably out of spite.
Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Jaemin was casually cleaning.
Jisung could hear drawers opening, fabric rustling, the faint clink of something being set down. Like this was normal. Like white-haired, perfectly styled, dangerously hot Santas didn’t just casually reorganize a room after completely reordering Jisung’s guts.
“What is my life?” Jisung whispered to himself.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror.
Nerd. That was the only word for it. Big eyes. Freckles. Hair that refused to behave. Shirt wrinkled from stress, fear, and being aggressively kissed. He looked like someone who was supposed to be doing homework at midnight, not someone who—
No. Stop. Abort thought.
From the other side of the door, Jaemin hummed. Hummed. Like a domestic menace.
Jisung’s soul left his body.
Why was Jaemin so… put together? White hair perfectly styled, confidence radiating off him like it was illegal to stand too close. And then there was Jisung. Standing barefoot in a bathroom, spiraling, wearing a shirt that looked like it had lost a fight.
He pressed his forehead against the mirror.
“He’s cleaning,” Jisung muttered. “He’s just… out there. Existing. Knowing my name.”
As if summoned by the thought, Jaemin spoke through the door, voice easy and amused.
“Take your time, baby. Water’s not going anywhere.”
Jisung made a noise that could only be described as a keyboard smash.
He slapped his hands over his face, dragging them down slowly. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. He’d gone from trying to survive a party to being gently cared for by a man who looked like a romance novel cover in the span of one night.
He glanced at the tub again.
Okay. Bath first. Crisis later.
Still blushing, still internally screaming, Jisung finally reached for the hem of his shirt, heart racing, mind spiraling, very aware that Jaemin was just on the other side of the door.
Cleaning.
Waiting.
And somehow, impossibly… wanting him
Steam slowly filled the bathroom, curling up toward the ceiling as Jisung finally eased himself into the tub.
The moment the warm water wrapped around him, his shoulders sagged like they’d been carrying the weight of the universe. He let out a quiet sigh, sinking lower until the water lapped just under his collarbones. His curls immediately betrayed him, springing up and clinging to his forehead, freckles standing out even more against skin still faintly flushed.
Okay.
Bath.
Breathing.
Surviving.
He grabbed the nearest bottle, something that smelled aggressively expensive, and poured way too much into the water. Bubbles bloomed everywhere. He stared at them, mesmerized, until…
A soft knock sounded on the door.
Jisung jolted like he’d been caught doing something illegal. “Y-Yes?”
The door cracked open just enough for a hand to slip through, holding a small pile of clothes. Donghyuck’s clothes. Soft-looking ones.
“I’m not coming in,” Jaemin said quickly, voice warm and reassuring from the other side. “Relax.”
Jisung’s heart did not relax.
Jaemin set the clothes down on the counter, careful, like he was placing something precious. “Hyuck said these should fit. Hoodie, sweatpants. Clean. Promise.”
Jisung peeked over the edge of the tub, eyes wide. “O-Okay. Thank you.”
There was a brief pause. Then Jaemin leaned his shoulder lightly against the doorframe, still very much outside, respecting the boundary, and spoke again, softer now.
“How’re you doing, Jisunggie?”
The question hit harder than Jisung expected.
He stared at the surface of the water, watching the bubbles pop one by one. His fingers toyed with the edge of the tub.
“I think…” he started, then stopped, huffing out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I think my brain is still buffering.”
Jaemin chuckled quietly. “Fair.”
“I’m not panicking anymore,” Jisung added, a little surprised by his own honesty. “Which is… new.”
“That’s good,” Jaemin said, genuinely. “You don’t look like you’re about to bolt anymore.”
Jisung smiled to himself, shoulders loosening further. “I already bolted once tonight. I think that used up all my running.”
Another soft laugh. Then, gentler still, “Take your time. I’ll be right here.”
The words settled over Jisung like the warm water itself, steady, grounding. He leaned back, eyes closing, letting himself exist in the quiet.
Nerd. Freckles. Chocolate curls.
And somehow… not out of place.
When he opened his eyes again, he felt calmer. Still flustered. Still very aware of Jaemin’s presence beyond the door, but no longer overwhelmed.
“Jaemin?” he called softly.
“Yeah?”
“…Thanks for checking on me."
There was a brief pause. Then, warmly, “Anytime.”
Jisung smiled, sinking a little deeper into the bath, already feeling like tonight, chaotic as it was, might be something he’d remember forever.
❅
The bathroom door creaked softly as Jisung stepped out.
Everything felt… different.
He was wrapped in Donghyuck’s oversized hoodie, sleeves swallowing his hands, the fabric warm and comforting against his skin. The sweatpants hung low and soft on his hips, clearly not his, clearly borrowed, and somehow that alone made his heart do something stupid. His chocolate curls were still damp, clinging to his forehead, freckles standing out now that the heat and chaos had finally settled.
The bedroom stopped him in his tracks.
It was clean.
Not impeccable-clean, but properly clean, the weird stains gone, clothes folded or tossed neatly aside, the bed straightened, the air lighter somehow. Like the room had been reset. Like the night had paused to let him breathe.
And then he saw Jaemin.
He was totally back in his Santa costume, red and white pristine again, hair perfectly styled as if it had never been messed up at all. He sat casually in Donghyuck’s gaming chair, the same one Jisung had been pinned to earlier, his legs spread slightly, arms resting comfortably, posture relaxed but attentive.
Waiting.
His gaze lifted the moment Jisung stepped fully into the room.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Jaemin’s eyes softened first, slow and unmistakable. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You look better.”
Jisung swallowed. “I feel… less like I’m about to pass out.”
Jaemin smiled at that, small and fond. He didn’t stand, didn’t rush over. He just turned the chair slightly, giving Jisung his full attention. Like this was important. Like he was.
Jisung shifted on his feet, suddenly very aware of where Jaemin was sitting, and what happened when he himself had been sitting there not too long ago.
“…So,” Jisung said, rocking slightly on his heels. “I think we—um.”
“Yeah,” Jaemin agreed gently. “We probably do.”
Silence stretched between them, not awkward exactly, but charged. The kind that hummed under the skin.
Jaemin gestured lightly with his chin toward the bed. “You wanna sit? Or do you need another minute?”
Jisung hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I’m okay.”
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, hands fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie. Jaemin watched him, not predatory, not teasing this time. Just… present.
“I don’t usually do things like this,” Jisung blurted out.
Jaemin hummed. “I figured.”
“I mean—I came to a party dressed like a Christmas decoration,” Jisung added weakly. “This was supposed to be me being brave.”
Jaemin smiled softly. “You were brave.”
That made Jisung’s chest ache a little.
Jaemin leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees now, voice steady. “I don’t want you to think tonight was just… heat. Or pressure. Or something you’ll regret.”
Jisung looked up at him then, really looked. “I don’t.”
Jaemin’s brows lifted slightly. “You don’t?”
Jisung nodded, shy but firm. “I was scared. And flustered. And extremely overwhelmed.” A pause. “…But I didn’t feel unsafe. With you.”
Something shifted in Jaemin’s expression, surprise, then relief, then something warmer.
“That matters,” Jaemin said quietly.
They sat there for a moment longer, the chaos of the night finally settling into something calm, something honest.
Jaemin stood at last, closing the distance, but stopping a careful step away. “We can go slow,” he said. “Or not go anywhere at all. Tonight doesn’t have to decide everything.”
Jisung’s lips curved into a small, nervous smile. “I think… I’d like to talk first.”
Jaemin smiled back, easy and sincere. “Good. I’m really good at talking.”
Jisung huffed a laugh.
“And I promise to behave.”
Jisung took a breath, fingers twisting into the hem of the hoodie like it might run away from him.
“Can I… ask you something?” he said, already halfway into nervousness.
Jaemin’s mouth twitched, like his instincts wanted to be terrible about it, but he caught himself. He straightened a little, hands visible, posture deliberately non-threatening.
“Yeah,” he said. “Ask.”
Jisung blinked. That was… easier than expected.
“Why me?” The question slipped out before he could soften it. He hurried to explain, words tumbling over each other. “I mean—I’m not— I don’t look like the people you were dancing with downstairs, and I panicked and ran away and—”
Jaemin raised a finger. “Pause.”
Jisung froze instantly.
Jaemin exhaled slowly, like he was choosing every word on purpose. “First of all,” he said, “you running away was adorable, not disqualifying.”
Jisung groaned, face heating up. “Hyung—”
“I said I’d behave,” Jaemin cut in quickly, holding up both hands. “I am behaving. This is me behaving.”
That only made it worse.
Jaemin leaned back against the desk instead of the chair this time, keeping space between them. “Second,” he continued, eyes softer now, “you were the only person in that room who looked like they weren’t performing.”
Jisung frowned slightly. “Performing?”
“Yeah,” Jaemin said. “Everyone else was loud on purpose. Sexy on purpose. Trying to be seen.” His gaze flicked back to Jisung. “You were just… there. Trying to survive. It stood out.”
Jisung swallowed. “So you flirted with me.”
Jaemin smiled, unapologetic but gentle. “I flirt with people I like.”
That made Jisung’s brain briefly go blue-screen.
“O-Okay,” he said faintly, then rallied. “Another question.”
Jaemin nodded, solemn. “Hit me.”
“Are you always like this?” Jisung asked. “I mean—confident. Forward. A menace.”
Jaemin laughed outright at that. “Wow. Straight to character assassination.”
“I’m serious!”
Jaemin sobered, tilting his head thoughtfully. “I’m confident,” he admitted. “I’m also annoying. And yes, sometimes I enjoy being a menace.” His lips curved again. “But I’m not careless. Especially not with someone like you.”
Jisung hesitated. “Someone like me… how?”
Jaemin met his eyes, steady and honest. “Someone who needs time. And reassurance. And who clearly overthinks everything.”
Jisung felt painfully seen.
“…Yeah,” he muttered.
They sat in a quiet pocket for a moment, the room warm but no longer overwhelming.
“One more,” Jisung said, emboldened now. “What happens after tonight?”
Jaemin didn’t joke this time. He thought about it, really thought, before answering.
“That depends on what you want,” he said. “We can pretend this was a weird Christmas fever dream. Or we can talk again. Sober. In daylight. With less Santa involved.”
Jisung huffed a small laugh. “I think I’d like the second one.”
Jaemin smiled, slower, softer than before. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”
Jisung relaxed a fraction, shoulders finally dropping. “You’re still kind of scary.”
Jaemin grinned. “I know.”
“But,” Jisung added quietly, “you’re being… good.”
Jaemin inclined his head, mock-serious. “Only because you asked.”
And somehow, that made Jisung smile.
Jisung hesitated for a second, then cleared his throat softly.
“Um… can I ask something else?”
Jaemin smiled immediately. “You’re on a roll tonight, Jisunggie. Go ahead.”
Jisung fiddled with the sleeve of the hoodie. “How do you even know Donghyuck?” He glanced around the room like the answer might be written on the walls. “And—and how did you convince him to just… lend you the house?”
Jaemin laughed, the sound low and fond. “Okay, that’s actually a fair question.”
He shifted his weight, crossing his arms, not looming, just casually dangerous by default. “I know Hyuck from college. Same year, different majors. We ended up in the same friend group because Mark adopted us both like stray cats.”
“That… makes sense,” Jisung murmured.
Jaemin continued, clearly enjoying himself but keeping his tone gentle. “Donghyuck’s always been dramatic. Loud. Protective.” He tilted his head, eyes flicking back to Jisung. “Especially about you.”
Jisung froze. “He didn’t say anything weird, did he?”
Jaemin chuckled. “Oh, he absolutely did.”
Jisung whimpered. “Hyung…”
“I’m kidding,” Jaemin said quickly, holding up a hand. “Mostly. He just asked me a lot of questions. What I wanted. Why I was so interested. Whether I was planning to disappear after tonight.”
Jisung’s chest tightened. “And?”
“And I told him the truth,” Jaemin said, surprisingly serious. “That I wanted to get to know you. That I wasn’t drunk. And that I wouldn’t touch you if you didn’t want me to.”
Jisung looked up at him, startled.
Jaemin met his gaze easily. “He still threatened me,” he added lightly. “Something about breaking my legs and hiding my body. Mark nodded along.”
“That sounds like them,” Jisung sighed.
“As for the house,” Jaemin went on, smirk creeping back in, “Hyuck was already planning to end the party early. Too many idiots, not enough patience. I just… gave him a reason.”
Jisung squinted. “What kind of reason?”
Jaemin leaned in slightly, just enough to feel like trouble. “I told him I’d take care of you.”
Jisung’s face immediately went pink. “That’s—that’s vague!”
“Exactly,” Jaemin said, pleased. “Donghyuck hates vague. He grilled me for ten full minutes.”
“And you survived?”
“Barely,” Jaemin said solemnly. “But I passed.”
Jisung laughed despite himself, shoulders loosening. “So… he trusts you.”
Jaemin’s expression softened. “He trusts you. I’m just borrowing that trust.”
That landed somewhere deep in Jisung’s chest.
“Oh,” he said quietly.
Jaemin straightened, giving him space again, menace tucked carefully away. “If at any point you’re uncomfortable,” he added, “you say the word. I don’t care what I convinced Donghyuck of.”
Jisung nodded, then smiled shyly. “Okay.”
A beat passed.
“…You really are a menace,” Jisung added.
Jaemin grinned. “Yeah. But tonight?” He gestured between them. “I’m a well-behaved one.”
Jisung huffed a laugh, warmth blooming in his chest as he realized, somehow, that he believed him. Jisung hesitated, again, rocking slightly on the bed, then blurted it out before his courage could evaporate.
“Hyung… what would you do if you—” he swallowed, cheeks already warming, “—if you lost the well-behaved menace act?”
Jaemin’s eyebrow lifted slowly. Slowly. Like he was savoring every millimeter of Jisung’s nervousness. He sat down again on the chair.
“Oh?” he said. “You’re asking dangerous questions now.”
Jisung immediately regretted everything. “I-I mean, you don’t have to answer—”
Jaemin leaned back in Donghyuck’s chair, crossing one leg over the other, Santa's coat creaking softly. He looked perfectly composed, perfectly styled, perfectly aware of the effect he had.
“If I lost it,” Jaemin said calmly, “the first thing I’d do is stop pretending I don’t notice how you fidget when you’re nervous.”
Jisung froze. His hands betrayed him by fidgeting harder.
“The second thing,” Jaemin continued, voice warm and teasing, “would be to tell you exactly what I’m thinking instead of filtering it.”
Jisung peeked at him through his curls. “Which is…?”
Jaemin smiled, soft, but unmistakably dangerous. “That you’re adorable when you’re brave like this. Asking questions you already kind of know the answer to.”
“I do not—”
“You do,” Jaemin interrupted gently. “You just want to hear it.”
Jisung’s ears burned. “That’s not fair.”
“I know,” Jaemin said cheerfully. “That’s why I’m behaving.”
He leaned forward a little, elbows on his knees, gaze steady but careful. “If I stopped behaving, I’d tease you without mercy. I’d make you flustered on purpose. I’d push just enough to see that face you’re making right now.”
Jisung made a small, distressed noise. “Hyung…”
Jaemin laughed softly and held up his hands. “See? Menace. That’s why I’m keeping it under control.” He straightened again, tone gentler. “But I wouldn’t cross a line. Ever. Losing the act doesn’t mean losing respect.”
Jisung exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. “…That’s good.”
Jaemin tilted his head, smirk returning. “Disappointed?”
Jisung sputtered. “N-No!”
“Mhm.” Jaemin’s eyes sparkled. “Relax, Jisunggie. The menace stays leashed.”
A pause.
“…Unless,” he added lightly, “you ask me not to.”
Jisung’s brain short-circuited completely, and Jaemin, very smugly, counted that as a win.
Jisung stilled there for a full five seconds, absolutely frozen, brain buffering like a broken computer.
Jaemin waited.
Patient. Smiling. Clearly enjoying the internal chaos he had caused.
“I—” Jisung started, stopped, clenched the sleeves of Donghyuck’s hoodie like it might save his life. His freckles were on fire. “I mean— you said— unless I ask you not to and—”
Jaemin’s eyes softened just a fraction. “Yeah?”
Jisung took a shaky breath. This was brave. This was terrifying. This was probably the bravest thing he’d done all night.
“…Don’t,” he whispered.
Jaemin blinked.
Once.
Then his smile changed.
Oh no.
It wasn’t sharp or predatory, no, it was worse. Warm. Playful. Mischievous in a way that promised trouble instead of danger.
“Ah,” Jaemin said softly, standing up from the chair. “So you want the menace.”
Jisung squeaked. Actually squeaked.
Jaemin took a slow step closer. Then another. He wasn’t towering, wasn’t crowding, just close enough that Jisung could smell him again, clean and warm and unfairly distracting.
“You know,” Jaemin murmured, tilting his head, white hair perfectly styled despite everything, “when you ask like that, it sounds less like a warning and more like an invitation.”
“I d-didn’t mean—”
“I know,” Jaemin said sweetly. “That’s why it’s cute.”
Jisung covered his face with his hands. “Hyung, you said you’d behave.”
“I said I’d behave until,” Jaemin replied, gently tugging Jisung’s wrists down just enough to peek at his face, “you asked me not to.”
Their eyes met.
Jisung’s breath caught.
Jaemin smiled wider. “Hi.”
“…Hi,” Jisung whispered.
Jaemin’s thumb brushed his knuckles, absentminded, affectionate. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m n-not—”
“You are,” Jaemin said fondly. “It’s okay. I like that you get shy instead of running away.”
Jisung swallowed, heart pounding so loudly he was convinced Jaemin could hear it. He hesitated, then whispered, barely audible. “C-can I…?”
Jaemin leaned in just a little. “Can you what?”
Jisung’s courage wavered, but he forced the words out, voice tiny. “…Can I have a kiss?”
Jaemin stilled completely.
Then his expression softened so much it almost hurt.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You can.”
He leaned in slowly, giving Jisung time, time to pull back, time to panic, time to decide. Jisung didn’t move. He just tilted his chin up a fraction, eyes fluttering shut.
Jaemin kissed him gently.
No rush. No teasing. Just warm and careful and sweet, like he was savoring the moment instead of stealing it.
When he pulled back, Jisung was absolutely wrecked, pink from ears to collarbone, lips parted, curls a mess.
Jaemin smiled, completely gone for him.
“…See?” he murmured. “Menace. But for you?”
He brushed a thumb under Jisung’s lip, affectionate and devastating.
“I can be very, very good.”
Jisung didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it slipped out of him in a shaky laugh.
“I—” He swallowed, fingers twisting nervously into the front of Jaemin’s coat. “I like you.”
The words landed softly, like something fragile placed between them.
Jaemin froze for half a second.
Then he smiled, not the teasing one, not the menace, but something open and warm, as if Jisung had just handed him something precious.
“You do?” he asked gently, as if he wanted to be absolutely sure.
Jisung nodded, cheeks burning. “I think… I’ve liked you since you smiled at me. Like, really smiled. Not the scary one.” He hesitated, then added honestly, “Okay, maybe a little the scary one too.”
Jaemin laughed quietly, breath warm against Jisung’s forehead. “You’re unbelievable.”
Before Jisung could get embarrassed enough to combust, Jaemin leaned in and kissed him again, soft, lingering, unhurried. A kiss to his lips. Then one to the corner of his mouth. Another to his cheek, right over his freckles, like he was mapping them out one by one.
Jisung melted instantly.
Jaemin kissed his nose. His temple. His forehead.
“Tell me,” Jaemin murmured between kisses, voice low and fond, “what do you like about me?”
Jisung blinked, overwhelmed in the best way. “You’re not— you’re not mean,” he said softly. “You’re confident, but you’re careful. And you make me feel…” He searched for the word, hands tightening in Jaemin’s coat. “…chosen.”
Jaemin’s breath hitched.
He kissed Jisung’s hair, lingering there. “Yeah?” he whispered.
“And,” Jisung added shyly, peeking up at him, “you look really cool. And you smell nice. And you keep checking if I’m okay.”
Jaemin smiled so wide it almost hurt.
“God,” he murmured, kissing Jisung’s cheek again, slower this time. “You’re going to ruin me.”
Jisung laughed softly, pressing closer without thinking. “Is that… bad?”
Jaemin kissed his lips once more, tender and warm. “No,” he said. “That’s very, very good.”
He rested their foreheads together, thumb brushing circles into Jisung’s side, grounding and affectionate.
“I like you too,” Jaemin said quietly. “Exactly like this. Nerdy curls, wearing cute clothes, brave little heart, and all.”
Jaemin guided him back toward the bed with a gentleness that still felt unreal, like he was afraid Jisung might vanish if he moved too fast. They sat first, knees brushing, and then Jaemin tugged him down properly, pulling the blankets up around them until Jisung was tucked against his chest.
It felt… safe.
Jaemin wrapped an arm around Jisung’s waist, the other hand absentmindedly playing with the hem of Donghyuck’s oversized hoodie on him. Jisung fit there easily, like he had always belonged in that space.
“I like that you’re soft,” Jaemin murmured after a moment, voice low and sincere. “Not just like… physically.” He squeezed him lightly, earning a tiny laugh. “But the way you think. You feel things deeply.”
Jisung’s ears went red instantly. “That’s embarrassing…”
Jaemin smiled into his hair. “It’s adorable.”
He shifted slightly so Jisung’s head rested over his heart, steady and warm. “I like your freckles. I noticed them right away. You look like someone sprinkled constellations on your face.”
Jisung huffed a shy laugh, fingers curling into Jaemin’s shirt. “You’re so cheesy…”
“And you’re smiling,” Jaemin countered softly.
Jisung was. He couldn’t help it.
“I like that you get flustered, but you don’t run away forever,” Jaemin continued, thumb tracing slow circles at his side. “You came back. That took courage.”
Jisung swallowed. “I was scared.”
“I know,” Jaemin whispered. “That’s why it mattered.”
They lay there quietly for a bit, the room calm, the party feeling like a distant dream. Jisung shifted closer without thinking, pressing his cheek into Jaemin’s chest.
“I like that you’re warm,” Jisung admitted in a tiny voice. “And that you tease, but you also listen. And… you make me feel wanted without making me feel stupid.”
Jaemin’s hold tightened just a little. “You’re never stupid.”
Another pause. Softer now.
“I like your hair,” Jisung added. “It looks really cool. Like… intimidating. But you’re not scary anymore.”
Jaemin laughed under his breath. “Anymore?”
“Just a little,” Jisung said honestly.
Jaemin leaned down and kissed the top of his curls. “Good. I’ll behave. For you.”
They stayed like that, whispering small things, favorite songs, dumb stories, Jisung admitting he’d been nervous all semester, Jaemin confessing he hadn’t planned to fall this hard tonight.
Jisung didn’t even notice when his breathing evened out.
One second, he was murmuring something incoherent about freckles being “genetic stardust,” and the next, his entire weight relaxed into Jaemin’s chest, mouth slightly open, curls messy against the pillow. Fully, completely knocked out.
Jaemin froze.
Then melted.
“Oh my God,” he whispered to absolutely no one. “You’re unreal.”
Jisung looked unfairly cute like this, freckles standing out against warm skin, lashes casting soft shadows, lips still a little swollen from kissing. One arm was tucked between them, fingers curled loosely into Jaemin’s shirt like he’d decided this was his safe place and refused to let go.
Jaemin carefully shifted just enough to grab his phone without waking him. He angled it down, snapped a picture: Jisung asleep, cheeks flushed, hair a disaster, hoodie half swallowing him, looking like the human embodiment of a cozy emoji.
He stared at the photo for a second, smiling stupidly, then opened his chat with Donghyuck.
Jaemin:
you’re never seeing your house again
Donghyuck replied almost instantly.
Hyuckie:
???
Jaemin sent the picture.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Hyuckie:
…are you KIDDING me
why does he look like that
Jaemin:
like what 😇
Hyuckie:
like a disney character after the happy ending
I hate you
Jaemin bit his lip to keep from laughing, glancing down to make sure Jisung was still asleep. He was completely gone, drooling just the tiniest bit on Jaemin’s shirt.
Jaemin’s heart did a stupid little flip.
Jaemin:
he fell asleep mid-sentence
I think he was talking about space
Hyuckie:
yeah that tracks
listen
if you hurt him I will actually bury you under my floorboards
Jaemin smiled, soft and real this time.
Jaemin:
wouldn’t dream of it
I’m keeping him safe
There was a pause before Donghyuck replied.
Hyuckie:
…okay
take care of him
and don’t wake him up, idiot
Jaemin locked his phone and set it aside, then carefully adjusted the blanket around Jisung, tucking it under his chin. He pressed a gentle kiss into Jisung’s curls, barely there.
“Sleep well, nerd,” he whispered fondly. “I’ve got you.”
And for the first time that night, the menace was completely gone, replaced by someone quiet, warm, and very, very gone for one freckled boy fast asleep in his arms.
Jaemin lay there for a while longer, just… thinking.
Mostly in disbelief.
He glanced down at himself, the red Santa coat, still neatly buttoned, the white fur trim brushing against his wrists. Then his eyes drifted to Jisung again. Curled up. Freckled. Soft. Snoring ever so slightly like he’d just run a marathon instead of surviving a party.
A quiet laugh bubbled out of Jaemin’s chest.
“This is insane,” he murmured.
Of all things. Of all plans.
He’d put on a Santa costume because Donghyuck dared him to “commit to the bit.” Dyed his hair white weeks ago because it looked good on him and because, frankly, he liked being a menace with aesthetics. He’d come to the party expecting chaos, flirting, maybe free drinks and dumb dancing.
Instead, he met him.
“The cutest guy I’ve ever seen,” Jaemin whispered, shaking his head fondly.
A nerd. Chocolate curls. Freckles like someone had gone wild with a constellation map. Wrinkled button-up shirt. Big eyes that looked at him like Jaemin was something unreal instead of just a guy in a ridiculous outfit.
And somehow… It worked.
Santa. White hair. A stupid costume that should’ve screamed Don’t take me seriously, and yet it led him straight to Jisung.
Jaemin snorted softly. “Guess I should thank the North Pole.”
He adjusted his arm when Jisung shifted, immediately freezing, holding his breath like that alone could keep him asleep. When Jisung settled again, face nuzzling closer, Jaemin’s smile softened.
“I’ll never hear the end of this,” he thought.
Donghyuck would bully him forever. Mark too. Remember when Santa ruined your life by making you fall in love?
Worth it.
Completely worth it.
Jaemin pressed a light kiss to Jisung’s forehead, careful, reverent.
“Next time,” he whispered, amused and tender all at once, “I’m meeting you without the costume.”
But a tiny part of him, the mischievous, dramatic part, already knew:
Santa Jaemin was always going to be his favorite version.
❅
merry xmas!