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scriptura-adrepticius · 6 years

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Holidays - 9P

Hello, hello! I don’t know how many people even still care about this blog but @hyukcieee, here’s your Christmas present from the npn secret santa! It’s still Christmas where I live so I hope it isn’t too late?? I was going to post it like last week but everything picked up like two weeks before so I had 0 time to write, sorry :/

You said it didn’t matter which member it was for so I wrote a short drabble for each 9p member based on a prompt off of the npn winter prompt challenge :) I hope you like them!

I hope everyone who reads this is having a great day and happy holidays to you all!

Pairing: Nine Percent x reader

Genre: fluff, nonspecific!au

Word Count: 5.4k

Holidays with Nine Percent are certainly holidays that you will never forget.

Masterlist

beautiful group of people, i will love them forever

Someone decided to put mistletoe all over the school as a sick sort of joke, and you’ve just been shoved under a clump of the stuff by your conniving “friends.” Who are you supposed to kiss, you might ask? Well, your friends are eyeing a certain someone walking down the hall…

- - -

“So anyway, he -” You stop short, glowering at your friends as they immediately look away from each other, looking suspiciously innocent. “Alright, that’s it, what’s wrong with you all?” you snap. “You’ve been like this for the past two days!”

“Like what?” Dinghao asks a little too innocently.

“Yeah, I wasn’t aware that we were acting differently at all,” Huafei chimes in.

You huff, trying to formulate your jumbled thoughts into words. “You don’t pay attention to me when I talk, you’re always whispering with Linkai and his little gang, you keep giving me those strange looks - how can you say you’re not acting differently?!”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then someone grabs your arms and holds them hostage behind your back.

“What the fuck?” you snap, violently twisting. “Let me go, dumbass!”

“Uh-uh-uh,” Dinghao sings, looking very, very gleeful. Next to him, Huafei and Ruotian stifle giggles, while you struggle even harder. “What the hell is going on!” you yell, attracting quite a lot of attention.

Jingzuo looks upwards, smirking, and you follow his gaze, eyes widening in horror as you take in the small plant that hangs from the ceiling.

“Oh hell no,” you mutter, shaking your head wildly. “No, no, no, no, no! Gao Maotong, get your stupid hands off of me, or so help me I’ll -”

Then someone slams into you and Maotong releases your arms, allowing you to collapse in a heap on the floor. Disgruntled and feeling extremely murderous, you grit your teeth and look up, ready to chew your friends out.

Instead, you see an outstretched hand. Your eyes travel upwards, taking in dark clothes, a leather jacket, and then…

Oh my god.

You meet eyes with your crush of two years, Wang Ziyi.

It takes a couple of seconds to force yourself to calm down, and though you want nothing more than to run away screaming, you accept his hand, allowing him to help pull you up. You try really hard to look at his face, but it’s so hard - the whole situation is just so absurd. You drop his hand as soon as you can.

“Sorry,” he says in that low voice of his, giving you that soft smile that never fails to turn you into an absolute train wreck. “My friends pushed me.” He shrugs apologetically.

“I - uh, it’s fine,” you say quickly, willing the growing heat to leave your face. “I’ve gotta go, but -”

“You have nowhere to go!” Huafei snaps. “Don’t lie to Ziyi!”

If your face wasn’t red before, now it is. You shoot her a furious glare.

What in the world are you doing?! you scream internally, hoping she gets the message.

“Y/N?” Ziyi’s voice snaps your attention back to him. “I… I think I know why they put us here.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, cursing each and every single one of your so-called friends. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice tight. “Sorry. My friends are stupid. I - it’s cool if you, uh, if you don’t want to, I totally get it, I wouldn’t want to kiss me either, sorry about everything, this is all a mess, I swear I had no part in planning this -”

“Hey, hey, hold up,” Ziyi says, taking your hand again. You flinch at the suddenness of his gesture but otherwise manage to remain neutral.

His next words, however, have you shell-shocked.

“Who said I didn’t want to kiss you?”

Total silence.

“Sorry?”

His stupid, gentle smile is on his lips again and you can’t think at all. “I asked who said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“I - I thought - I thought we were just friends?” you squeak. “I, uh, since when…” You let out a little huff. “What the hell?”

Ziyi’s little laugh is even more addicting than his smile. He leans in a little closer, and you can feel his breath puffing slightly on your face.

“You wouldn’t mind, would you, if I kissed you now?” he asks, ignoring the gasps and hoots of the crowd watching.

“For tradition or because you like me?” you manage to spit out.

A shy blush flits across Ziyi’s cheeks and you almost melt. “Because I like you.”

The smile that overtakes your lips is shaky but genuine and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “Then, no, I wouldn’t mind,” you reply.

His lips press against yours, and your mind goes blank. You can register only the feeling of his lips on yours, his fingers clutching your hands, his hair tickling your cheek. You cannot hear the cheers of your friends, the squeals of the crowd, the claps of the audience. It’s like Ziyi is your entire world.

When he pulls away, cheeks flushed red, you seize on your temporary insanity and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close again.

“Remind me to kill my friends later,” you murmur, and you just hear the beginnings of his gentle laugh before you press another kiss to his lips.

. . . . .

Why did your best friend decide to put mistletoe all over the school as a joke? You don’t know. Why did you go along with it? You don’t know. All you know is that you didn’t expect to accidentally stumble under a bunch of it with said best friend. It isn’t just the cold that’s turning your cheeks red, now.

- - -

“How did this happen?” you ask, not looking at your best friend for fear of him seeing your blush. “Why are we so fucking dumb?”

Linkai snorts. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not dumb.”

“Oh yeah? Then who was the one that first walked under the mistletoe?” you snap.

“And who was the one that didn’t realize and walked under after me?” he retorts.

You cross your arms. “Fine,” you groan. “So are you going to kiss me? Or are we just going to walk away and pretend this didn’t happen?”

On one hand, you want him to agree to the second so your feelings for him stay hidden forever. On the other hand, you want him to agree to the first so you can fulfill one of your dreams.

“Tradition is tradition,” Linkai mutters, refusing to look at your face. You can see the pink tinting his cheeks though and for the first time, you think your feelings might be returned.

“Since when have you been a traditional kid?” you push, forcing him to look up. “Never. So how come you’re relying on tradition now?”

The tiny smirk he throws you gives you a heart attack. “Because… maybe I like you?”

You blink once. Then twice.

“Only ‘maybe?’”

A real blush spreads across Linkai’s face and you can see how much effort it’s taking for him to look into your eyes. Understandable, because you want nothing more than to duck and run away into the crowd that’s forming as well.

“Fine. I definitely like you,” he mumbles, ruffling his hair.

You smile a little. “Good, because I like you too.”

Amidst cheers and hoots, you press a short kiss to his lips, leaving the usually confident boy speechless. Then, suddenly, he regains his confidence and pull you to him for a deeper kiss.

Most of the time, Linkai’s mischief gets him into trouble. At least this time, something good came of it.

You smile into his lips.

. . . . .

Holiday season means holiday shopping, no? You hate shopping, but when you come face to face with that cute sales guy you’ve had a crush on for a long time… well, maybe your sentiments will change now that you’ve seen him decked out in holiday gear, looking stupidly, absolutely adorable.

- - -

The bus is full of people, and you curse your stupid, procrastinating self for leaving Christmas shopping for the last minute.

Christmas shopping is a bore.

With a tired sigh, you squeeze onto a seat. You can practically smell the sweat and heat radiating off of the people and you crinkle your nose up with another sigh.

Then, your brain decides it’s the best time to cut in with a stupid thought.

Hey, shopping isn’t that bad. You might get to see that cute sales guy!

You really hope no one sees the blush crawling up your cheeks. If anything, hopefully they’ll think it’s the residual cold.

Cai Xukun is literally the cutest guy you have ever met. He is drop dead gorgeous but down to earth and mellow at the same time. His smile is blinding, his eyes are sweet, his laugh is beautiful… there is literally nothing not to love about the boy.

“And here I am, thinking like a lovestruck thirteen year old,” you mutter, making room for another person as they squeeze by. The bus rattles and belches a cloud of smoke, then rattles away.

You sigh.

It’s going to be a long day even if I do get to see Xukun.

- - -

Ten stores later, you’ve found almost all of your gifts. Your wallet is about to start sobbing, your feet are about to start screaming, and you are about to sag into a tired puddle on the floor.

“One more to go,” you mumble, looking with trepidation at the fancy storefront.

Nine Percent. Your best friend’s favorite clothing store. They have some of the most outrageous items but at least the prices are fair.

Also the place where - guess who - Cai Xukun works.

You drag your sorry self into the store.

“Hello, welcome! Can I help you today?” a cheery-faced boy with a bright smile asks chirpily the second you walk inside.

It’s not Xukun. You hope the disappointment doesn’t show on your face as you give him a slight smile. “No thanks,” you reply. “Just looking.”

“Christmas shopping?” he asks, looking sympathetic. You allow a sardonic smile to show itself before nodding. “Yeah.”

“Shit, sorry,” he laughs. “But let me know if you need any help!”

“I will, thanks.”

The store is huge, but it doesn’t take much effort to find the section your friend loves since you’ve been here so many times. You drop your bags, rubbing your aching hands, before perusing the racks. Minutes later, you’ve found something, and after checking the size you back to the front of the store to pay.

Then your brain short circuits, because your stupid crush is manning the counter. He’s got a stupid little Santa hat on with a stupid green woolen sweater, and he looks like… boyfriend material. There is no other way to put it.

Suddenly, you care a little too much about the knots in your hair, the bags under your eyes that you haven’t bothered to cover up, your oversized hoodie that now seems too casual for this. You want to at least pat down your hair, but then you’d probably knock your bags everywhere, and you don’t want to look stupider than you already do. So you steel yourself and walk up to the counter.

“Hi!” Xukun says with his bright smile. Your heart thumps. “Ready to pay?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you say quickly, pushing the clothing over.

There’s silence as he rings up the items and places them into a bag. You jab your card into the machine and look down determinedly because you are absolutely sure your cheeks are bright red.

“Are you okay? Your face is really red.”

Fuck.

“I’m fine.” You give him an awkward smile. “It’s just… the cold outside.”

The little smirk he gives you as he hands the bag over gives you a heart attack. “I see. Well, have a nice day! Happy holidays!”

What the fuck does that smirk mean?

“Thanks, you too!” you squeak before bolting out of the store.

Outside, the cold air cools your cheeks and after trudging a few streets, you sit down at the bus stop. With a sigh of relief as the pressure is taken off of your aching feet, you take out the receipt from your latest bag to stuff inside your wallet.

What’s on the receipt nearly gives you a second heart attack.

Hey, one of my friends told me you think I’m cute. Well, I think you’re cute too. Here’s my number, text me sometime, alright?

XXX-XXX-XXXX

A strangled sort of screech leaves your throat, causing more than a few concerned looks to be thrown your way, but you’re too busy staring at the receipt to care.

Once you’re settled on the bus, you take out your phone with trembling fingers and input the number. After agonizing over the text for several minutes, you settle for “Hey, you gave me your number on my receipt. Are you sure it wasn’t a mistake?”

One minute passes, then two, then three.

Read.

Typing…

No mistakes were made. I’m Xukun, but I’m sure you know that.

I hope you are Y/N?

You’re almost hyperventilating.

Yeah, I am.

He responds quickly.

Great. Want to go out for coffee sometime? My treat!

It takes all your effort not to scream out loud, but as you type out your answer with a smile on your face, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Christmas shopping isn’t so bad.

. . . . .

You’ve always wanted to be kissed in the rain, thinking that it’s the ultimate romantic gesture. Well, there isn’t any rain, but maybe snow will do.

- - -

“Why do you love rain?” Linong asks, shivering in the cold. He’s wearing a huge coat and has a scarf wrapped around his neck, while you only have a warm sweater. “Rain is so… cold.”

“But what about when the sun is out while it’s raining? Then it’s warm rain, and it’s like… fun! You can jump around in the rain!” You grin, whirling around with your arms out. “Plus, you’re so tall and fit. How come you’re still cold? It’s just a little snow!”

Linong shrugs, burrowing further into his scarf. “It’s still snow,” he mumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you grab his hand. “Warmer?”

You can see the blush on his cheeks despite his efforts to hide it. “Come on, we’ve been dating for nearly six months, Nong!”

The kiss you press on his cheek seems to increase the blush. “Warm now? That’s what your face is telling me.”

“Stop teasing,” Linong complains.

“What if I don’t want to?” You smile teasingly, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“So you want to continue teasing? How about I ask you about your fantasy of being kissed in the rain?” Linong tosses back, finally pulling his face out of his scarf.

Suddenly, your face feels warm. Much warmer than before. “How - how do you know about that?” you squeak.

“You shouldn’t leave scribbles in the margins of your chemistry notebook,” he smirks.

Noted.

“Dammit,” you mutter. You can’t even be mad because you were the one who lent the notebook to him.

“I mean, I could help you with that,” Linong mumbles, looking away. His face is red again.

You look up at the sky, almost getting a face full of snow. “There’s no rain…?”

“Snow’s suitable though, right? Until we actually get some rain?” Linong asks, looking adorably awkward. You blush too, but you also place your other hand in his.

“Of course it is,” you say, leaning up.

The falling snow swirls around your faces, resting on your hair, his scarf, and both yours and his cheeks as Linong presses his lips to yours in one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever shared.

. . . . .

Baking cookies? Not such a good idea when your friends decide to come over and wreak havoc in the kitchen.

- - -

When you suggested baking cookies with Justin, you didn’t expect him to be this much of a mess.

“Even Linkai can follow directions!” you scold, taking the dough out of Justin’s hand. “And stop eating it, you could get sick!”

“But then I’d have you to nurse me back to health,” Justin points out.

“You’re learning too much from Lin Yanjun!” you snap, whirling around with the bowl. Your boyfriend just snakes an arm around your waist as he licks another bit of dough off of his finger.

“Huang Minghao!” you yell, snatching the bowl away from him. “Stop eating the dough or there will be no cookies for you!”

His eyes widen in mock terror and he backs away, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay!”

You sigh. “Didn’t you bet Zhengting that if you could get through a baking session without breaking anything, you’d choose what he had to wear on his next date?”

Justin nods eagerly, and you have to stop your heart from melting at the sight of the sparkle in his eyes. “Yeah! I’m going to make him wear that stupid gag gift Chengcheng sent me.”

“Jesus,” you say, spreading the dough out. “What did he ever do to you? No one should have to wear a sweater that ugly.”

Your boyfriend just shrugs.

“I’m dating an evil idiot,” you mutter, taking out the cookie cutters. “Here. Let’s cut the dough, and then after the cookies are baked we can decorate them, alright?”

“The best part!” Justin cheers.

“You better not eat all of the frosting,” you warn. “The cookies are already enough sugar for you!”

He sticks out his tongue. “No amount of sugar is enough sugar for Justin!”

“If you keep saying stupid stuff, I’m going to kiss you to shut you up.”

“Then I guess I better keep saying stupid stuff -”

Justin’s lips taste like cookie dough. As much as you hate to say it, the sweet flavor is appealing.

“Stop with the stupidity, Justin,” you say when you break away, leaving the boy somewhat shell-shocked and red-faced. “Now help me clear up. Don’t break anything, or else Zhengting’s going to make you wear that sweater to the Yuehua party!”

You eventually clean everything and get the cookies decorated without Justin breaking anything, but not before he sneaks in about a half dozen more kisses.

. . . . .

Your neighbor just walked out wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater you’ve ever seen. You think your eyes are bleeding, but somehow, he still looks… kind of cute.

- - -

“So, Zhengting,” you say amiably, hoping your eyes aren’t too wide with horror, “why are you wearing what you are wearing?”

Justin cackles from inside the apartment and you stifle a smirk. “Was it Justin’s fault?”

Zhengting sighs, eyes narrowed with disdain and helplessness. “Yeah,” he grumbles. “Lost a bet, so now I have to wear this shitty sweater Chengcheng sent him.”

“I hope Chengcheng got that as a gag gift, and not as a real gift,” you say, looking Zhengting up and down. “Ooookay, that’s it, that’s enough, my eyes are bleeding. I can’t look at you anymore. Take that thing off!”

“He’s not allowed!” Justin yells.

“You better let him change, Huang Minghao, or so help me I’ll return every single one of your Christmas gifts this year!” you yell back. “We can’t go on a date like this!”

“Yes you can!”

Zhengting sighs. “Let the kid have his fun,” he says resignedly, giving you a half smile. “It’s almost Christmas.”

“What happened to my strict boyfriend who didn’t put up with shit from Justin?” you gasp in mock surprise.

“He disappeared. Now let’s go out,” he says, taking your hand. “Before Justin thinks of something even worse for you to wear.”

You snort. “He wouldn’t dare. Also, why is this sweater so scratchy?”

“Fan Chengcheng is the worst.” Zhengting shrugs.

“Well, it if helps, you still look kinda cute.” You give your boyfriend a wide smile. He just laughs.

“You look kinda cute too, I guess.”

. . . . .

Every year, you and your neighbor compete over who has the best Christmas decorations outside your house. It isn’t friendly competition. Last year, the kids were flocking over to your neighbor’s house, oohing and aahing over their sparkly lights, and this year, you’re determined not to lose.

- - -

“My decorations are better than yours this year,” you say smugly, watching the kids on your street stand transfixed by the sparkling lights.

Zhangjing huffs. “As if,” he mutters, looking salty.

“It’s the truth, Zhangjing.” You grin. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

Sweet, sweet victory. After two years of losing to your insufferable neighbor over your informal Christmas decoration competition… well, all you can say is victory is sweet.

The red and green lights illuminate Zhangjing’s sulky face and you have the sudden urge to pat his head like you would a small, whiny toddler. “Don’t be so sulky,” you coo.

“I’m not sulky!” Zhangjing snaps.

“Yes, you are. Also, it’s really cold now. Shouldn’t you be inside your house?” You look at him quizzically. “Why are you still out here?”

A small blush flits across Zhangjing’s cheeks. “Locked myself out,” he mumbles.

“You are a grown man, and you still managed to lock yourself out?” You snicker.

Zhangjing does not deign to reply.

“I can try to pick your lock,” you offer once your laughter subsides.

“Pick my lock?!”

You shrug. “Yeah. I used to be pretty good at picking locks until my friends forced me to stop.”

“For good reason,” Zhangjing mutters. “But yeah. You can give it a shot.”

“Cool, let’s go!” you cheer, fishing out a little bag of lock-picking tools from your pocket.

“Why do you have those in your pocket?”

You just grin in response.

- - -

You wiggle the pick inside the lock for a few seconds before looking up. “How come we do this every year? This stupid competition?”

Wind whistles through the air as Zhangjing does not respond.

“It’s weird,” you say, turning back to the lock. “No one ever put up lights on this block before I moved in. How come you did?”

Zhangjing mumbles something completely inaudible.

“What?”

“Yanjunmight’vesaidsomethingaboutgettingchristmaslightssothatyouwouldactuallynoticemebecauseithoughtyouwerecute.”

You blink. “What?”

Zhangjing huffs and smacks his head. “Why did I say anything,” he mumbles.

“Why’s your face so red?” you ask.

“It’s cold out!” he snaps defensively.

“My face isn’t that red… is it?” You shrug. “Anyway, didn’t catch what you said. Just Yanjun, Christmas lights, and… cute?”

A sigh of defeat rushes past your ear as you wiggle the lock pick around again. “When you moved in, I thought you were cute, so Yanjun suggested I get Christmas decorations to get your attention. And then it just evolved into some weird competition. Happy?”

“Uh, no?” you snap, standing back up. “If I’d known you thought I was cute, I would’ve asked you out like, two years ago!”

Dead silence. There isn’t even wind.

“In that case, unless you don’t think I’m cute anymore, I think we should go on a date tomorrow,” you say decisively, turning back to the lock. “I’ll come over at two!”

Snick. The lock opens. “And now your house is unlocked,” you say proudly. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The kiss you then press to his cheek leaves Zhangjing speechless.

. . . . .

You love winter, but winter hates you. Every year you get horrible seasonal allergies, complete with a stuffy nose, sneezes, and a rasping cough that drives away everyone within a fifty-foot radius. The only person who cares to stay near is your best friend, which is a little bit of an issue considering you have a sort of kind of massive crush on them.

- - -

“Toss me into a fire,” you mumble, sounding like you’ve got dirt in the back of your throat. “Everything hurts and I’m cold.”

No one hears you, of course. You’re alone.

“And now I’m talking to myself like the dumb, sick, idiot I am,” you mutter. “No wonder no one wants to be around me.”

And of course you’re being overdramatic again.

It’s not that no one wants to be around you normally. It’s just that no one wants to be around your germy, snotty, allergy-ridden self.

Winter is fun. Winter is great. Winter is awesome. You love winter, because it means presents, joy, snow, and time spent with loved ones.

But winter hates you. It always gifts you a stuffy nose and a loud, headache-inducing sneeze-cough that always comes just in time for the holidays, leaving you knocked out at home, taking multiple allergy medications in the hopes that you’ll be better in time for Christmas.

A loud sneeze racks your body, followed by a volley of coughs, and then you sink under your covers again. You sigh as deeply as you can without killing your throat.

Then someone knocks on the door.

Two seconds later, your phone buzzes.

Fan Chengcheng, December 12, 3:00 pm

Open the door!

You blink once, then twice. Why is Chengcheng here? When it’s clear you’re sick and dying?

You, December 12, 3:02 pm

are you trying to get yourself sick

Fan Chengcheng, December 12, 3:02 pm

Allergies aren’t contagious idiot

You, December 12, 3:03 pm

ya but the germs in my snot probably are

He just sends back a puking emoji followed by ‘just open the goddamn door.’

“God help me,” you mutter, rolling out of bed. You’ve wrapped your blanket around you like a burrito and you remain huddled in it, teeth chattering as you trudge through the cold apartment.

“Get inside,” you sniffle, shoving the tall boy inside before slamming the door shut. Even then, some of the cold seeps in, and you shiver underneath your blanket.

Chengcheng sets a bag down on your coffee table and raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d look this bad,” he says offhandedly.

A scowl spreads across your face. “If I wasn’t so sick, I’d punch you,” you rasp.

“Yeah, I know.” He sticks out his tongue. “But you are sick, so I have immunity. Well, for now.”

Huffing, you stomp on his foot, making him yelp more so in surprise than pain. “I’m going back to bed,” you mumble. “Do whatever you want, just don’t invite anyone over and don’t break anything. And don’t complain tomorrow if you wake up unable to breathe through a stuffy nose.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Chengcheng lifts you up, and you let out a strangled noise of surprise and embarrassment. Your face is hot and you pray that you can put it down to allergies if Chengcheng asks.

“Put me down!” you yell, the end of your command turning into a hacking cough.

“In your condition?” Chengcheng counters, nearly slamming your head into the doorframe. “No way.”

He almost knocks you into your bedroom wall. “You’re trying to kill me!” you snap.

“I would never!” he gasps, affronted, dumping you unceremoniously on the bed and placing a hand on his chest.

With effort, you roll over, covering yourself in the blanket. “Good night,” you mumble.

Chengcheng laughs, a small, quiet laugh that’s so uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous self that you’re confused for a moment. And then the bed dips as he settles on the mattress, and his hand goes to rest in your hair, and you really want to tell him to stop or he’ll get sick but the feeling is so soothing and calming that you really don’t want him to stop.

“Go to sleep,” he murmurs, carding a hand through your hair. “You’ll feel better.”

As you drift into dreamworld, you hear a faint murmur.

“If only we could stay like this forever.”

You want to answer, but sleep claims you before you can.

. . . . .

Presents are a must at Christmas time, no? But no matter what you get this year, there’s only one thing you really want: you want him to come home.

- - -

“Still moping?” Zhangjing asks, sighing through the phone.

You roll over in bed. “Leave me alone,” you mumble, words muffled by the pillow. “Let me mope in peace.”

“Do you want to come over and see my Christmas lights?” he offers.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. Are you still having that competition with your neighbor?”

“About that…” Zhangjing coughs. “We’re kind of dating now?”

“WHAT?! HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?! I WANT ALL OF THE DETAILS!”

“I’ll tell you when I come over, just please stop screaming,” he begs.

“Fine. Her lights were better than yours though last time I saw,” you joke.

“That’s it, I’m never speaking to you again,” Zhangjing huffs. You can hear him shuffling things around on his end.

“No, no, I’m sorry, Zhangjing,” you relent, rolling over again. Silence takes over the call and your smile slips off of your face as you remember who isn’t coming home.

On the other end, Zhangjing curses. “Damn you, Lin Yanjun,” he complains. “Can’t even come home to be with your girlfriend for Christmas.”

“Be quiet, he’s just busy. And I’m just being an overdramatic idiot. I’ll get over it,” you assure him. The skeptical silence that follows tells you that Zhangjing is not reassured.

“Alright, enough of this. I’m coming over with some of the boys. Chengcheng can’t come though, his friend is sick and he’s taking care of her,” Zhangjing says in his no-nonsense voice. “I have cookies and we’ll cook and then we’re going to binge watch TV shows, got it?”

A slow smile spreads across your lips. “Thanks, Zhangjing.”

- - -

Once laughter is bouncing off of your walls, you don’t feel so lonely anymore. Justin’s and Linkai’s screams fill the rooms, and you find yourself smiling more widely than you thought you would.

“Feeling better?” Zhangjing asks over the yells in the kitchen. You nod and grin.

Soon, all the food is cooked and your tiny coffee table is creaking under the weight of all the dishes. The younger kids attack it all with a vengeance, though they’re sure to leave enough food for the “oldies.”

(“Who are you calling old?” Zhengting’s girlfriend snaps.

“Not you!” Justin yelps.)

You simply sit on the couch, watching from a distance. Seeing them all so happy warms your heart but at the same time, it just makes you remember who isn’t here.

“Dammit, Lin Yanjun,” you whisper, the smile slipping off your face.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziyi asks worriedly from across the room, trying to pick his way along the floor while Justin and Linkai wrestle wildly. At his words, though, they immediately stop, looking at you with wide eyes.

“I think Y/N needs a hug!” Justin announces, launching himself onto you. Linkai follows suit and you groan under their weight. “Help…”

Instead of them getting pulled off, though, more weight piles on, and pretty soon you’re buried under a mound of people. A tired sigh escapes your lips but at least you’re smiling. “Get off me!” you yell playfully. “I can’t breathe!”

In the second of silence that follows your declaration, there’s a loud knock on your door, followed by the doorbell.

“Who’s that?” you ask, wriggling out of the pile. “You think someone’s lost?”

“Maybe,” Ziyi says, shrugging. “I’ll go check.”

“Don’t get murdered on Christmas,” Justin quips.

“Murdered?” Linong asks worriedly.

“Joking, Nong, I’m joking.”

“Y/N, it’s something for you!” Ziyi yells.

Your eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “I thought packages weren’t delivered on Christmas?” you mumble to yourself.

“‘Something?’ What am I, not a human?”

You freeze.

“Y/N?” Ziyi pokes his head out of the corner to see you frozen. “Oh, there you are.”

“Is he actually here?” you squeak. “Like… I didn’t imagine that just now, right?”

Ziyi smiles. “He’s actually here.”

Two seconds later, you’ve knocked Yanjun into the doorframe with the force of your hug, but none of that matters because he’s home.

“Damn you,” you say, your words muffled by his jacket. “I hate you, Lin Yanjun!”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he says, patting your back. “Now can I come inside? It’s really cold out.”

You let him stumble inside and shut the door before wrapping him in a hug again. “I’m not letting you go,” you mumble.

“Not even to let me kiss you?” your boyfriend asks amusedly.

“Fine, I will make one exception.”

“KISS! KISS!”

“Remind me to slap Justin when this is over,” you say, letting Yanjun go briefly. He takes off his jacket and pulls you to him again as your arms go around his neck. He looks into your eyes with all the love in the world, and then he kisses you.

“I love you,” you murmur when you break away for air, “and I’m so glad you came back.”

“I love you too,” Yanjun says breathlessly before pulling you in again. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

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ninepercentnet · 6 years

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