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Changbin makes Minho want to find another partner to walk with in the mornings every time he steps out of his apartment with Dawekki strapped to his chest in a baby-carrier. Because 1) it's ridiculous and 2) Leebit always frowns at him in reprimand, silently asking why do I gotta walk?
"You make me want to delete your contact from my phone," Minho states as soon as Changbin is in his line of sight.
I'll walk a whole block ahead of you if you keep doing this. If we stop for coffee I'm pretending I'm not with you. The fact that Minho continues to knock on Changbin's door three times a week and pay for their Starbuck escapades despite alternating variations of the same kind of greeting does little to help Minho's words sound like actual threats.
Which is why Changbin smiles, completely unaffected, "Good morning."
Dwaekki is half asleep, but he still waves a drowsy paw down at Leebit in lieu of oinking hello. Leebit waves back without breaking eye contact with Minho, staring up at his human with fire behind his pupils. Why don't you carry me, too? He lifts his small arms up and gets on his tippy toes to leave no room for doubt about what he's requesting.
Minho hoists him up by his armpits with a sigh, then settles him on his hip. He points at Changbin with a gloved finger and narrows his eyes, blaming him for this outcome.
"I've been telling you you should get one of these," Changbin takes the opportunity to start on his usual rant as they begin to move, "It's way less straining than normal carrying."
"You look like a dunce."
Changbin rolls his eyes, "I think I look great."
And so does every woman that walks past us, apparently, Minho thinks. He is all too used to having to wait a couple feet away for the ponytail girl in turn to stop cooing at Dwaekki and ogling Changbin's biceps in the meantime. Maybe his neighbour's muscles do bulge under a too-tight sleeve, and maybe the mixture of buff and baby-carrier user is worth an appreciative up-and-down, but— really? Stopping the sidewalk traffic? So selfish.
(Maybe Minho has caught himself being a ponytail girl himself once or twice, too, but that's for him to know and later process with a glass of wine in hand when he's by himself.)
Minho tugs on Leebit's wool hat and pulls down his sweater so it covers his tail, "You'll never catch me in one of those, Bin."
Changbin smirks, the same eye-catching dimple ponytail girls and Minho alike sigh dreamily for daily on full display, and then raises an eyebrow, "We'll see."
Leebit kicks his feet happily as their morning stroll progresses, thoroughly enjoying his spot in Minho's arms. Dwaekki fully wakes up halfway through their familiar route and decides he, too, is quite content where he is, settling for watching the snow-covered signs and cars with interest. He oinks excitedly at a small sized, Christmas decorated pine tree outside a coffee shop at the same time that Leebit almost strangles Minho to get him to stop walking.
"Don't touch anything," Minho says as he lowers Leebit to the floor so he can go check out the dancing Santa toy on display, "If you break it, run as fast as you can. I'll find you."
Changbin chuckles at his unconventional advice, freeing Dwaekki and himself of the baby-carrier so the little pig-bunny can join Leebit, "You're something else."
He and Minho are eventually coerced into the shop by insistent pink and white paws and convinced to stay by the delicious smell of fresh baked goods wafting through the air. They pick a table at the back in case Leebit and Dwaekki get too rowdy during playtime and write their orders down for the Wolf companion clad in an apron that waddles to their spot first. His human waits for him behind the counter, offering encouraging thumbs up at his successful attempt at customer service, and it's got Changbin melting.
"He's so cute. We're stopping here every morning now."
"Careful," Minho says, "Dwaekki might get jealous."
"He knows I love him the most," Changbin grins, squishing Dwaekki's cheeks and making him oink adorably.
Now, it's Minho's turn to stare at Leebit in reproach. You always get jealous when I pet other companions. Leebit does not budge or fall for his intimidating act, simply crossing his arms over his chest. He tries to do the same with his legs, but they're so short all he can manage is to rest his right foot on his left ankle. Well, of course. I should be the only one in your life.
Minho shakes his head and tugs once at his ear affectionately. Leebit shows him his teeth in return.
"What are you both doing for Christmas?" Changbin asks, shrugging his heavy winter jacket off and hanging it on the back of his chair. Minho tries not to pay attention to the way the sweater underneath fights for its life against Changbin's broad shoulders.
"Nothing much," Minho answers honestly. He drums his fingers on the wooden table to the rhythm of Jingle Bells, "Dinner, Leebit gets his gift, then we sleep."
Changbin looks crushed at such a depressing prospect, "Jesus. Why don't you spend it at my apartment, for a change? It's just gonna be me and Dwaekki."
"It's really not that bad," Minho tries to defend his boring Christmas plans, "We have plenty of fun. Sometimes we watch ten episodes of The Amazing World of Gumball in a row."
"That's cute," Changbin says, and the small smile on his lips shows he means it, "Let's watch it together this year."
"Damn," Minho leans back on his chair, "You really want me. Keep going, I'm kinda into it now."
Changbin rolls his eyes and chooses to lean over the table slightly to speak to Leebit, instead, "Hey. Do you want to spend Christmas with me and Dwaekki?"
Leebit nods so aggressively Minho has to put both hands on his cheeks and stop him, afraid his head will pop off like a bottle cap. Changbin beams at his enthusiastic response, and Dwaekki claps in equal delight.
"Wonderful! It's settled, then."
"I still need to be convinced," Minho reminds him with a scoff. He sets his elbow on the table and rests his head on his hand, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated manner, "Win me over, Binnie."
Changbin raises an eyebrow, "Don't act like you aren't coming either way."
Minho fans himself with a menu and tugs on his shirt collar, "Oof, I love an assertive man. You're on the right path here."
Changbin throws his head back to look at the ceiling, trying to gather enough strength to deal with him, "I better be on Santa's good list this year."
"Well," Minho says, licking his lips as he appreciates Changbin's neck. Everything about his neighbor is so… handsomely defined, "I bet he knows I've been naughty."
Changbin kicks Minho's legs under the table as he bursts into a fit of laughter, drowning out any other sound. Minho's mouth curves, pleased, and he knows his new Christmas plans have been sealed.
.
Leebit likes to stand at the very front of the shopping cart with his hands on his waist, assessing the aisles for anything that might catch his attention (or activate his hunger). This time he has to make space for Dwaekki to fit next to him, however, which leads to an eventual decision to stand back to back and cover one side each. Minho thinks they look like the tiniest, least scary secret agents to exist.
"Okay," Changbin hums, going over the list on his phone's notes app, "We need to find the decorations."
"For a tree, or your apartment in general?" Minho asks, already taking a left toward the correct aisle. Leebit and Dwaekki giggle together when they momentarily lose their balance.
"Both."
A flurry of red, green and gold welcomes them into the Christmas section, an array of ornaments and garlands so varied Changbin rolls up his sleeves before diving into the search for the perfect ones. Minho leaves the cart with Leebit and Dwaekki to one side, thinking it smart to keep the little rascals confined around possible fragile items, and joins his enthusiastic neighbor in his quest— theirs, now, he supposes.
"Which ones do you like best?" Changbin asks, holding up two red ornaments: one with a reindeer drawn in golden glitter, and another one with snowflakes all over its surface.
"I like the Rudolph one."
Changbin looks down at the decorated spheres again and nods, seemingly satisfied, "Let's get a six piece set of these."
Minho finds it endearing, how serious Changbin is about their shared Christmas. He studies any and all options with a nit-picking eye, runs his fingers through tinsel garlands and festive tablecloths like he's one of Santa's Elves sent to Walmart to verify humans are doing the holiday justice. Minho stands by his side to offer input when asked, but he mostly enjoys the unlimited time to stare at Changbin's side profile and learn the small quirks in his features. After a couple minutes, he's already got a pattern:
Pursed lips, eyebrows pulled into a frown: he's appalled such decoration items exist.
Head tilted to one side, a single eyebrow raised: not bad, but also not too good. An option, definitely, but one he'll ultimately drop if he finds anything better.
Wide grin, immediate turn to look at Minho with sparkling eyes: he has found the better option in question, and is very eager to share it.
Minho's heart pumps a little harder each time the last one takes place, pushing against his chest with enough force for him to struggle to keep his feet glued to the floor. It's almost as if it were purposefully trying to get him to take a step forward and closer to Changbin with every beat, failing to hear Minho's brain's cries for it to stop, let it think it through.
A single spherical ornament crashing against the back of his neck is enough to shut the battle between emotion and logic up, "What the—?"
Minho pivots to face the attacker. Dwaekki immediately points at Leebit, absolving himself from any and all blame. The bunny squeaks, one leg propped on the side of the cart, and points at the floor to tell Minho he wants to climb down.
"... What was this for?" Minho bends down to pick up the missile— thankfully 100% made of plastic— and shakes it for emphasis as he approaches his tiny friend.
Leebit's ears twitch as he blinks once and then points at the tiles below again. I already told you, his eyes say, I want to be freed.
"There are other ways to ask for things," Minho says with a sigh, leaving the ornament back where it was. He puts his hands on his knees to be at eye-level with Leebit, "Okay? We don't do this. You could've hurt me."
Leebit's eyes widen, and Minho knows malice was never fuel for his actions. Limited to almost imperceptible squeaks every now and then, he'd probably clung to the first idea he came up with— and hadn't acquainted for a surprisingly good aim. Leebit is, in many ways, like a human child: clumsy, temperamental, constantly learning how life in a society works. He's also sweet, loving and eager to understand everything that Minho teaches him along the way.
So Minho does what others often struggle to do: he doesn't get mad.
"I'm okay," Minho is quick to assure him as soon as Leebit's ears start to fold against his head in regret and guilt, "Promise. But now you know, yeah? You won't do this again?"
Leebit nods, jumping up to wrap his paws around Minho's neck in a hug. Minho wraps his arms around him and lifts him off the cart, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek before lowering him to the floor as requested.
"Don't go too far," He says, but with the way Leebit now holds onto his pants he doubts he'll stray. He looks back at Dwaekki with a smile, "Do you want to get out of there, too?"
Instead of answering, Dwaekki goes straight for the jump. Minho gasps, immediately moving to catch him in time.
"Woah, that was close," Minho chuckles, patting Dwaekki's back, "I got you, though."
"Oink, oink!"
As soon as his feet touch the floor, Dwaekki naturally navigates toward Changbin, who already expects him with open arms. Minho offers his hand to Leebit, and he clings onto Minho's fingers as well as his anatomy allows him, bouncing by his side all the way to the other pair.
"Sorry," Minho tells Changbin once they reach them, "Where were we?"
"Don't worry. I think we've got all we need," Changbin says, pushing himself out of the squatting position he'd been in and smiling at Minho like he's just witnessed him help a grandma cross a street, or something. Minho tilts his head, confused at the pride Changbin shows, "You handled Leebit very well, there."
Ah. Minho looks down at his tiny friend to hide the heat simmering beneath the skin of his cheeks and scratches the top of Leebit's head, "It's nothing. He's a good kid— I knew he hadn't done it with bad intentions."
"Yeah, I know. But there are many who don't understand that about companions," Changbin says, the curve of his lips turning sad, "My friend, Hyunjin, works at a shelter for others like Leebit and Dwaekki… he's seen what humans can do."
Minho frowns, the heavy stone of the meaning behind Changbin's words weighing down his heart, "People can be pretty fucking shitty."
"They can," Changbin says. He takes a deep breath, lets out a laugh without humor, "Every time I think about that, I need to give Dwaekki a long hug."
"He knows he's loved," Minho tells him, and he's never been more sure of anything in his life. The clear happiness behind Dwaekki's eyes every time Changbin speaks; the trust in humans Dwaekki possesses, because he's never been exposed to anything other than tenderness and adoration— even the stupid baby-carrier, "With you, I doubt he's ever felt like he isn't."
Changbin's ears color a bright pink, and Minho is a step closer to the line he's been trying to ignore since the very first friendly-neighbour wave they'd shared all those months before, "Thank you. Leebit is in good hands, too."
But when Minho looks down to find his companion again, he realizes he's not in his hands at all. Before he can panic too much, however, Dwaekki oinks loudly to call their attention— clad in matching Santa hats and only a few feet away from them, both he and Leebit spin in place to fully show them their new festive outfit.
"You both look so cute!" Changbin gasps. Dwaekki pulls another hat out of the shelf and waddles over to him, thrusting it into his hands, "For me?" Dwaekki shakes his head, taking another few short steps to stand at Minho's side, "Oh. For him? Okay."
Changbin moves to transfer the Santa hat from his' to Minho's hands, but Dwaekki oinks in disapproval. This time, he makes sure to point at Changbin first, then at Minho.
"You…" Changbin frowns, trying to decode the message. Dwaekki nods encouragingly, "Want me to, uh… put it on him?" Leebit squeaks an affirmation, one eye covered by his skewed hat. Changbin steals a glance at Minho, frozen in place, and accepts the mission with an amused laugh, "Alright."
Minho's got a couple inches on him, so it is inevitable for Changbin to look up as he carries out the task. He stands close enough for the tips of their shoes to almost touch, narrowing Minho's view to just a close-up of his face: tongue between his lips, a hint of stubble and a scar on his chin Minho spots for the first time.
Have Changbin's eyes always been like staring straight into the sun?
"There," Changbin says, stepping away and admiring his work, "All done. Santa-fied."
There's a smile on Changbin's lips, but it is not like the ones he's shared with him before. Minho's a little too stunned to decipher what's so different about it right away.
(No, really: Changbin's eyes— have they?)
.
"I completely forgot you were coming over," Changbin says, red-faced with shame. He's wearing a hoodie, one of those old ones people usually only wear at home— with the cuff of the left sleeve coming apart at the seams, and stains from enthusiastic meals that stick to the fabric no matter how many times they're thrown into the washing machine. His hair has rebelled from its usual directions and now curls stubbornly at the ends, gentle waves framing Changbin's puffy eyes and cheeks, "I'm… a disaster, sorry. Make yourself comfortable."
Minho's been inside Changbin's apartment plenty of times, courtesy of their quick friendship and Changbin's endless hospitality. Still, Minho's always struck by how home-y his neighbor has managed to make it look and feel, like this specific place in the world has always had his name on it: taekwondo medals on display, a sign of Changbin's endless athletic capabilities; a microphone with a pop filter and stand, a hint at Changbin's passion for music and rap; photos of family and friends hung along the expanse of every wall, a chance for Changbin to proudly show his loved ones to those who come in.
(Minho thinks that if Changbin were to move out and anyone else to move in it would be a terribly wrong thing. He would end up disliking that person out of pure spite. How dare they live in Changbin's home and call it their own?)
There's a specific picture Minho likes among the array of frames, one he catches his eyes searching for every opportunity. In it, Changbin looks to be of high-school age, and Dwaekki is only half the height he is now. They're posing side by side, pupils dancing with life, and Changbin holds a certificate that declares he can take the adorable pig-bunny home. Without fail, Minho's heart expands inside his chest at the sight of it, able to pick out the love the memory exudes as vividly as it must've felt for both of them back then.
He has a similar picture printed out at his own place, an even smaller Leebit cradled in his arms and sleeping away soundly. It was taken the first night he brought him home— only the beginning of an infinite collection of bunny pictures he'd create in the future. Sometimes, when Leebit crawls into his bed at night and curls against his chest, it's the only thing Minho can think about as he eases back into peaceful sleep next to his tiny friend.
"I didn't even clean up," Changbin returns from his short trip back to his room and continues to scold himself. He carries the boxes of decorations they'd bought two days ago to the center of the room, "Sorry, again."
Minho dismisses his worries with a flick of his wrist, "It's whatever. You've been to my apartment, and it's always in worse conditions than this."
Changbin smiles, a little more relaxed, "Maybe. But… like, myself, right now— also a mess. I'm not even wearing any makeup. You always look so good."
The compliment is filed in Minho's mind for later, eclipsed by the fact that Changbin is not aware of how cute he is at this very moment in time. How is that possible? Minho's stomach had attempted a lethal backflip at the first glimpse of his soft-pink cheeks and naturally long eyelashes, and he'd been glad Changbin had disappeared to go change so he could take a couple grounding breaths. A mess? He's as stunning as ever.
"What do you mean?" Minho frowns, unwilling to let the comment simply pass, "You look beautiful regardless."
Changbin freezes mid box-opening, but Leebit and Dwaekki still spot the glitter covered ornaments and go for them, fixated on the way the shiny drawings glint under the light. Minho realizes that he may have sounded a little too defensive of Changbin's attractiveness, albeit now entirely too late. The fire of his embarrassment consumes him quickly, ears turning an incriminating bright red as Leebit, unaware of his inner turmoil, wraps a garland around his neck and giggles.
He clears his throat, runs his fingers through it even if he has no intention of pulling it off, "Should we start with the walls, or the tree…?"
"You think I'm beautiful?" Changbin leans his body slightly toward Minho, a familiar dangerous smirk slowly tugging at the corners of his mouth.
There's nothing left of the shyness he'd shown seconds ago, replaced by a confidently teasing nature. And Minho is nothing if not a ponytail girl for the man in front of him at heart, so he stares at his lips like a moth drawn to a flame. He knows that's what Changbin wants, just like he knows he's giving away too much— both of them are, really, which is why Minho lets it happen to begin with. He gave Changbin the end of the rope, and now he's pulling.
Eventually, he finds the strength to look up again and narrow his eyes. Now, it's a game of tug of war, "You know you are."
Changbin, regardless of whatever cool aura, blushes at the words, "We should hang the garlands first."
It's Minho's turn to smirk then, fueled by the peek at reciprocity— or the possibility of it— Changbin's offered him oh, so kindly. Still, Minho nods mercifully, allowing Changbin to soften his grip around the rope for a while, and they set on the task of turning Changbin's apartment into a replica of Santa's own home. Leebit and Dwaekki start pulling out decoration after decoration for Minho and Changbin to place as they move from corner to corner, brushing against each other while maneuvering around their fluffy friends lying on the floor.
"Ah, sorry," Minho says, as one of his hands settles on the small of Changbin's back before walking past him. (Tug.)
"Oops! My bad," he exclaims when he purposefully moves to almost crash into Changbin and they end up standing nose-to-nose. (Tug, tug.)
There's really no need for words when he brings Changbin a glass of water from the kitchen and boldly caresses and squeezes his arm before continuing with what he was doing. (Tug, tug, tug.)
With sporadic gestures like these, Minho does not let Changbin completely let go of the rope, constantly asking him to either hold onto it tight or pull, too— and he does, even if sometimes it's an unconscious thing. Every shade of red on his skin, every hidden smile revealed by the dimple on his cheek; the ways in which he responds to Minho's touch so contently. It all tugs, tugs, tugs at Minho's heartstrings and, in a blatant dismissal of his competitive side, he's willing to lose just this once.
"Oink, oink!"
When only the tree ornaments are left, Dwaekki waddles over to Changbin and nudges his leg with his head, arms filled with red and gold spheres. Leebit does the same, feet tapping excitedly as he waits for Minho to lift him up and make the task easier for him. The four of them help add some color to the tree, a mixture of recently-bought with 3-Christmases-old items, and wrap a string of led lights all around it as one of the last touches.
The actual finishing step rattles inside the box when Minho picks it up: a shiny star the size of his hand ready to claim its spot, "We've only got the topper left."
"Mmh, Leebit can do it this time," Changbin says, sharing a look with Dwaekki, "Right? What do you think, buddy?"
Dwaekki nods, even if he doesn't look particularly elated— his ears give it away, slowly lowering from their usual perky stance. Minho knows he's as selfless as Changbin himself and will therefore put Leebit's enjoyment over his own, so he immediately begins to shake his head.
He grabs the star and walks over to Leebit, crouching for the bunny to climb on his shoulders, "They can do it together."
Leebit clings onto the ornament and nods, ears twitching happily. Changbin grins and helps Dwaekki settle on the same spot, wrapping his fingers around his pink feet to keep him in place. Minho and Changbin inch closer until both companions can each clasp one of the star tips and slowly bring it down to fit the top of the tree. To make sure it's steady, they then give it a nudge with gentle paws, and squeak and oink in excitement when it doesn't fall.
Minho looks up at Leebit's twitching whiskers and adorable front teeth and feels his mouth curve into a fond smile, unable to resist his bunny's cute charms, "Hey," He calls. Leebit's eyes, big and round with wonder as they always are, quickly find his own, "I love you, little one."
Leebit wiggles to one side, left foot hanging and looking for purchase on Minho's arms. Minho senses his intentions and helps him slide down, gathering him in front to cradle him like a baby. Once situated, Leebit nods, satisfied, and leans in to nuzzle his nose against Minho's.
I love you, too.
.
When Christmas Eve finally rolls around, Minho and Leebit show up to Changbin's doorstep with their Santa hats on and fresh mashed potatoes in a bowl. Changbin is wearing a vibrant seasonal sweater with a decorated pine tree design sewn onto it along with the phrase 'Get Lit', and Dwaekki sports a reindeer antlers headband proudly. Leebit zooms into the apartment without preambles, used to their visits to the Seo household by now, and tugs his friend away with him in the process.
Minho, on the other hand, lingers by the door frame to steal a long glance at Changbin's outfit, "Your affinity for ridiculous things isn't attractive in the slightest."
Changbin lifts an eyebrow, "That Santa hat looks cute on you."
"Touché," Minho says. He finally steps inside, brandishing his side dish, "Where do I put this?"
Working on their dinner is relatively simple work— for Changbin, at least, who hides behind his incompetence in the kitchen and is quickly relegated to table-duty, setting it for four and then buzzing around Minho like an insistent mosquito. Minho doesn't have it in him to complain or ask for space, all too eager to have Changbin stand behind him and peer over his shoulder; holding his end of the rope tight enough to be pulled along with it. Closer, closer, closer.
"Anything interesting to you?" Minho asks at some point, lips quirked into a smug smile.
Changbin hums right next to his ear, "Just supervising."
"Have a little more faith in me, Binnie. I'll show you just how good I am with my hands."
At that, Changbin retreats with a startled cough and suddenly announces he'll go check on Leebit and Dwaekki. Minho can picture Changbin's red face perfectly even without turning around, plump cheeks burning ablaze, and he laughs, feeling pleased with himself.
He calls them all over to sit at the table when he's done seasoning the salads and the turkey is out of the oven, and Leebit scrambles onto his chair so fast he almost tips it over. Dwaekki needs a little push from Changbin to settle on his own place, but he's ready in no time too, paws curling into excited fists. Changbin helps rearrange things to make room for a glass jug filled with water as well as a bottle of wine, and then they jump straight to loading their plates.
"Minho, this tastes delicious," Changbin praises, half his serve gone in a matter of minutes. Dwaekki nods with his cheeks full of mashed potatoes and Leebit squeaks his agreement, a paw resting on his happily satisfied belly, "You're officially invited to New Year's, too."
"Thank you," Minho smiles. He picks up his glass and gently begins to swirl the liquid inside, "For that invite and this one, as well. You and Dwaekki are amazing hosts."
"It's our pleasure," Changbin ruffles Dwaekki's fur and pinches one of his cheeks, eyes crinkling amusedly when his tiny friend lets out a prolonged oink in response. Hey— I'm eating here! He chuckles, a soft sound that makes Minho's heart jump, and raises his own drink to push it slightly toward Minho, "Cheers."
Minho does the same, bumping together in the middle, "Cheers!"
The alcohol helps warm his body pleasantly as it courses through his limbs and weighs his eyelids a little bit more, but it's meeting Changbin's eyes over the rim of their glasses that truly gets the feeling to spread everywhere. Unblinking, yet with so much to say— Minho licks the remnants of wine off his lips when he's done, and only then do their gazes separate from each other.
Minho's not so sure who has got the last tug, anymore.
.
A couple episodes of The Amazing World of Gumball on Minho's phone serve as the perfect distraction for him and Changbin to place the presents under the tree. Leebit and Dwaekki stay transfixed on the screen long enough for them to be able to work on keeping the Christmas illusion alive and down another quarter of the wine bottle as they wait for the clock to strike 12.
"What did you get him?" Changbin asks, pointing at the box Minho had sneaked out to grab from his apartment. He'd wrapped it himself at the store because the employees had been too busy catering to everyone's last-minute Christmas shopping, and the messy ridges and bumps in the poorly folded paper are enough to give it away.
"A Switch."
"No way— I got one for Dwaekki, too," Changbin motions to another box of similar dimensions, this one pristinely packaged by professional hands, "Thought it could keep him entertained when I need to work."
"Same for Leebit," Minho hums, scanning the presents and frowning at the count. One, two… three? The last gift stands out from the others in size, disproportionately bigger in comparison, "Who's that one for?"
"Uh," Changbin scratches the back of his neck nervously, "You."
Minho blinks once, twice, then points at himself in disbelief, "You got me something?"
"Yeah. Is— is that okay?"
"Of course it is," Minho assures him. He steals another glance at the box and feels his mouth curve into a smile, "Thank you, Bin. And I'm sorry, but I didn't get you anything. I thought—"
"Don't worry," Changbin is quick to shut down his apologies with a smile of his own. He pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his hands and then brings his knees up to his chest. The couch would probably be a more comfortable place for them to sit, but the alcohol had kept them down on the floor after the work was done; too lazy to move more than necessary, "We didn't talk about getting each other gifts, so. I wasn't even planning on buying anything, really, but… I kind of couldn't resist when I saw it."
Minho lifts an eyebrow, "Now I'm curious."
"You should be," Changbin smirks.
Minho grabs the wine bottle and pours himself another glass, "I'll get you something before New Years," He promises. He angles the bottom of the bottle toward Changbin's glass in suggestion, "You want some more?"
Changbin hiccups, a result of his previous drinking, but still pushes his glass nearer in a silent yes, "You don't need to."
"I want to," Minho argues. He fills Changbin's halfway and then leaves the bottle in between them, pushing the cork back in to avoid any spilling, "So if there's anything you've got in mind, just let me know."
"How about a kiss?"
At first, Minho thinks he's drunk more than what his tolerance allows him, and looks down at the dark-red liquid in his glass like it has betrayed him. Wishful thinking, he tells himself, just wishful thinking disguised as reality under the effects of alcohol. But when Minho dares to shift his eyes upward and catches Changbin doing the same to his own wine, eyebrows pulled together and admonishing its audacity to make him utter those words against his will, he knows that's not the case.
"That— that wasn't supposed to come out," Changbin says after a moment. His cheeks, already pink and hot, start to shift into the red shade of the sleeves of his sweater, "Sorry."
"Oh?" The force of Minho's thumping heart is dulled by the alcohol in his system, giving way to absurd confidence that is only found in drunks, "You've been keeping things from me, Binnie?"
"Shut up. You're annoying."
"You want to kiss me soooo bad," Minho giggles. He points a finger at Changbin and wiggles it in front of his nose, "You said it!"
Changbin pouts and grabs Minho by the wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. Minho twists it in his hold, experiencing Changbin's touch on his skin, and is glad that Changbin doesn't take it as a sign to let go. He drags his fingers down, instead, until he's able to prod at the space between Minho's and intertwine them gently.
"Well," Changbin starts shyly. He's driving Minho crazy, flushed prettily like this, "Are you… going to do it, then? You said you'd give me a gift."
"That's your pick?" Minho says, beating around the bush just to be annoying, "You could have a Rolex, or something."
Changbin raises an eyebrow, "Would you actually buy me a Rolex?"
"Would you pick a Rolex over a kiss from me?" Minho fires back, eyes narrowed.
"Absolutely," Changbin deadpans.
"Well, I'm not buying you that," Minho scoffs, "A kiss will have to do."
Changbin laughs at his childish attitude, welcoming him closer as Minho leans in, disentangling their fingers only to guide Minho's hand to his waist. Minho clings to the ridiculous sweater for dear life, swallowing roughly the moment their noses graze against each other in an overwhelming sign of their proximity. Changbin closes his eyes, and Minho basks in the permission to stare at him without having to pretend he's not.
"Cute," Minho whispers, and then moves to close the gap between their mouths.
It tastes, predictably, an awful lot like bitter wine— somehow, it's still the sweetest thing Minho's ever tasted. He gets drunk off of Changbin's lips, savoring each drag and press against his own, and shivers pleasantly under the slide of Changbin's thumbs along his jaw. A giddy feeling pools in his gut and makes him smile into the kiss as his hand lets go of fabric and slides underneath to touch warmth, pressing harder against his back when Changbin melts.
"Right next to the Christmas tree," Minho says when he pulls apart to regain his breath, "What would Santa think?"
Changbin groans and pushes his shoulder back playfully, "I liked it better when your mouth was busy and couldn't ruin the moment by saying things like that."
"Too many unnecessary words," Minho clicks his tongue. He hooks a finger on the hem of Changbin's sweater and pulls, "Just say you want to kiss me again."
"I do not," Changbin lies, and immediately surges forward for another taste. He's gone before Minho can even think about kissing back, "I want the Rolex."
"I'm getting mixed signals here."
"Figure it out," Changbin grins cheekily. Minho intends on doing just that, lips puckered obnoxiously as he aims for Changbin's mouth, when Changbin's eyes snap up and he suddenly sets his hands on Minho's shoulders, stopping him on his tracks and keeping him at a distance, "Oh my God, it's Christmas."
Minho blinks, mouth still pushed out, "Huh?"
Changbin scrambles onto his feet, "The time— it's already past 12. Dwaekki! Leebit! It's Christmas!"
Their tiny friends waste no time running back into the living room, over-the-moon squeaks and oinks as they make a bee-line for the presents. Minho moves the bottle of wine out of the way before a disaster can occur and stands up as well, backing away from enthusiastic paws ripping decorative paper apart until he's at Changbin's side.
"Merry Christmas," Changbin says, showing a full dimpled smile just for Minho.
Minho throws an arm around his shoulders, maybe sneaks the hand to pinch his cheek and then rests it over his bulky bicep. Yup, he definitely loves this jolly time of the year, "Merry Christmas, Bin."
.
("Seo Changbin."
"What?" Changbin feigns innocence, lips pursed in an awful attempt to keep his laugh in, "That's your gift! You don't like it?"
Minho looks down at the words and image printed on the box; at the paid actor pretending to enjoy having a ridiculous baby-carrier on, "You're joking."
"I think you would look great," Changbin says. Minho can't believe he sounds genuine, "We can match!"
"I never want to see you again.")