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“Oh. It’s you,” is the first thing Zen hears when Jumin Han walks up to him.
The actor had decided to go somewhere Christmassy to get into the holiday spirit, but all it’s done is make him feel unbearably lonely and want to drink until he passed out on his couch. Walking underneath lights strung up on trees and stars blinking across the sky lessened the pressure against his chest as he thought fondly about past Christmases…
…and yet he still can’t get rid of it now, sitting on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square, so his reaction to the other male is delayed.
He crosses his arms, just to keep up appearances, and grumbles—or tries to at least, he probably sounds more petulant than anything—“What do you want?”
Surprisingly, Jumin takes a careful seat next to him and doesn’t reply bitingly like Zen had expected him to, only sighing quietly before directing his gaze towards the sculpture on the other side of the fountain. “I’ve always wondered…what spending Christmas as normal people do would be like,” Jumin finally says after a somewhat stale silence. Zen finds himself holding his breath.
“And? Is it not up to your high class standards?” For some reason, he can’t seem to be as harsh to Jumin as he usually is. Maybe it’s the feeling of being alone on Christmas, or that the only person who ends up being with him is the trust fund jerk, or that he doesn’t mind as much as he used to…
Already, he wants to swallow his words back, to say something else, something more meaningful on a day like this. If I could… he reluctantly thinks before he changes his mind, I would want him to have a happy Christmas, too.
Jumin sighs again and admits in a lower tone, “It is not terrible. Everything is festive and happy.”
“Oh.” And, because that sounds too curt, “That’s…good, I guess.”
This entire situation is awkward, awkward, awkward, but Zen cannot find anything to complain about, not when they’re actually having a conversation without arguing, and this heavy-but-light feeling is still laying within his ribs.
“Yes, perhaps it is.” The words are said with a sort of innocent wonder, and so sincere that Zen can feel it vibrating through his bones, creating an ache in his heart.
There is something wrong with him tonight, to be anything other than annoyed at Jumin Han and wanting to...understand him. To listen to him. To lean into him and feel the support that’s there for everyone, even him. Even him, who spurns the guy at every turn, who always picks a fight with him and never listens to what he has to say. It’s…not normal. Different. And alarming. Frightening.
A shaky exhale leaves him, and he turns away to suppress this sudden rise of emotion. He must have been really lonely for this to happen. But this reasoning leaves him dissatisfied, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
“Zen,” Jumin says, in the same, serious voice he uses for everything else, but why, why does it sound different this time, like he wants to say something else instead—“What would you like to do on Christmas?”
What a weird question, and Zen tells him so. Shockingly, Jumin lets out a noise that sounds like…a laugh? In a second, Zen’s turned towards him again with an incredulous expression on his face. Jumin Han, heir to C&R and infuriating boss, knows how to laugh? None of this is normal. This isn’t supposed to be happening, he shouldn’t be talking civilly with the man he’s hated since that first meeting over 4 years ago, so why does it feel so nice?
Jumin fiddles with the cufflinks on his immaculate suit—of course, even on a day like this, he wears the entire ensemble—and asks, “Well?”
So Zen thinks. And thinks and pictures all the sweet, romantic things he would have liked to do with his girlfriend if he had one, and he replies, “I would just like to be with someone I love.” It’s not his first answer—that was “kiss a special someone”—but it sounds more…appropriate in this circumstance.
“Someone you love…” Jumin murmurs.
“Yeah.”
Are you thinking the same as me? Is it so strange that you are not the last person to come to mind when I think of this? Of someone I…love? His mind races, and his mouth dries up instantly. What is he thinking? Did he seriously just consider Jumin to be a person that he could learn to…
Learn to…
Zen can’t stop staring. With his black suit, Jumin should have blended in with the dark night. But he only seems to stand out more against the warm lights, flushing his skin a soft hue and making him almost…gentler. Less defined. Hazy. Fewer sharp edges and more like paint strokes, lines gathered together to create a person who is…not as bad as he thought he was.
There’s a hand behind his jaw, and the quiet intonation of, “I’d greatly like to spend a Christmas with you, Hyun,” and that’s it, that’s the final straw, and Zen is rushing forward to kiss him.
He wants more, he wants to touch Jumin more, but his hands stay motionless on the edge of the fountain, and only Jumin’s hands on his face are keeping him grounded, keeping him from falling over or off or sideways. Zen’s chest burns, alights with a fire that consumes him from the inside out, and he can’t help the almost desperate gasp that escapes his throat at how good it all feels. Nothing else matters except sensation, and the physical touch of Jumin’s lips against his and oh, what has he been missing out on?
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Jumin pulls away and is immediately embarrassed and Zen feels a previously-absent swell of fondness crash through him at the pinkness of the heir’s cheeks. He goes back to buttoning and unbuttoning his cufflinks, and Zen wonders if it’s possible to want to be with someone every hour of every day for the rest of his life after just one kiss.
Maybe, if that someone is Jumin Han, who is awful with emotions and obsessed with his cat and dismissive of his employees’ well-being.
“Um.” And the sky must be falling, because Zen has never heard the corporate businessman sound uncertain in the entire time he’s known him, but it’s still so endearing at the same time, what—“Merry Christmas.”
His tongue trips over the words as if he hasn’t used them very often, but Zen only smiles and understands that he is already completely and utterly fucked for Jumin Han and answers with familiar exasperation, “Merry Christmas.”
Though he knows that they’ll still bicker like no tomorrow the next day, the tiny smile that he receives in return makes him think that it’s worth all the trouble anyways.