Chapter Text
❄
On December 13th, a light snowfall gently tumbles towards the earth, an icy blue swirl of magic moving through the air.
That very morning, Junmyeon hears a soft knock on the door, so he hurries over, not even stopping to change from his fluffy white Jessica Simpson-branded house slippers, stepping out just in time to find an obscenely large, absurdly wrapped gift on his doorstep. He tilts his head to the side, observing it. He looks left to right, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever left it, but there’s no one to be found.
He checks the front of the folded paper tag. Sure enough, it bears his name in cursive. Junmyeon, all filigreed and looping. Must be a delivery service or something.
The wrapping paper is bright silver-gold, and the oxblood red bow is bigger than his head. He picks up the gift, both arms tightly around the middle, and he attempts to navigate his way back inside with it in his embrace.
It doesn’t work so well.
Frustrated, he tries to prop open the screen door with his foot, gently kicking it open so he can plaster the gift against the wooden door long enough to get his hand down to the golden knob.
A bigger hand beats him there.
He turns, winded, to find Sehun standing there with a smile and an extraordinarily large travel mug. He always seems to find himself in the most embarrassing situations when Sehun’s around.
“Need a hand?” he laughs.
“I’m struggling,” Junmyeon says. “Help me get this inside.”
Sehun opens the door swiftly and without warning, and Junmyeon nearly collapses on top of the gift.
“Whoops, shoulda said something,” Sehun says. “Sorry about that.”
“You are not sorry,” Junmyeon says, and he brings the box out towards the kitchen, setting it onto the countertop. “You are a demon. You are possessed.”
“I brought the spiced coffee you like.” He wiggles the travel mug back and forth tantalizingly. “From Last Drop. Am I a demon now? Hm? Hm?”
Junmyeon frowns. “Set it on the counter for me.”
“What are you wearing, by the way?” Sehun asks, looking down at Junmyeon’s pajamas. Junmyeon is happy they’re at least a matching set, blue plaid. “Aren’t you, you know, coming to work?”
“Give me a couple minutes,” Junmyeon says, and he ruffles his hair with a hand. “Woke up late. I guess my alarm went off, and I didn’t even hear it.”
“Lucky you have me, then,” Sehun says, puffing out his chest proudly. “Not only am I here to make sure you open on time, but I also brought the good coffee.”
“I am astounded by your ability to provide for me,” Junmyeon deadpans. He brings both of his hands together, swooning blankly. “Thank God for Sehun.”
“That’s more like it,” Sehun says, and he takes a seat by Junmyeon’s countertop, tapping his foot against the tile. “Okay, hustle up. We’re gonna be late.”
“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.”
Junmyeon rushes upstairs, regretfully stepping out of his aforementioned slippers as he begins to dress. Slipping into a sweater and some jeans, he pads around in his socks as he fixes his hair, brushes his teeth, and by the time he gets downstairs, Sehun has made himself quite comfortable, helping himself to one of Junmyeon’s granola bars.
“What?” Sehun asks. “I was hungry, and I got up early to get you coffee.”
Junmyeon rolls his eyes to mask how touched he is. Showing his vulnerable side would only get him an earful of how soft and sweet he is.
“Come on,” he says, and he steps into his shoes, wrapping his scarf around his neck and threading his arms into his coat before gesturing for the mug of coffee. “Let’s go, let’s go.”
Sehun follows behind him, bringing along the coffee as he was bade. The door locked behind them, they begin the half-mile walk to the center of town, Junmyeon’s hands wrapped firmly around the mug. He sips at it carefully, but it is cool enough to drink now. He indulges quietly as Sehun walks beside him, their shoes crunching along the soft white blanket of snow that has fallen overnight.
The coffee is sweet, perfectly spiced, and he makes a gentle sound of pleasure. Sehun laughs, bumping his shoulder into Junmyeon’s.
“I’ll give you money,” Junmyeon says.
“Come on. On the house,” Sehun says. “Free of charge. Pro bono.”
“Not for the coffee,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll pick up breakfast.”
Sehun shrugs happily. “I won’t say no.”
“Pastries from Red Barn,” Junmyeon nods. “A danish.”
“Cherry cheese danish?” Sehun asks, and Junmyeon agrees. “Very good choice. Still, I think I’ll be doing… I dunno, they had some coffee cake donuts yesterday that looked really good?” He looks over to Junmyeon, and he picks up his pace, widening his strides so that he easily zips past him. “Let’s go, we’re gonna be late.”
“Oh, you’re so tall, aren’t you?” Junmyeon says, and he picks up the pace, struggling to stay alongside Sehun. “Remember our previous conversation?”
“About demonic possession?” Sehun smiles.
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “You’re not really helping your case here.”
Sehun smiles, and he bumps his shoulder into Junmyeon again.
It is a pleasant morning, pleasantly cold, and Junmyeon clutches the coffee to his chest, a burst of warmth blooming through him. The book shop will be nice and warm once he turns the heating on, and as they walk, he day-dreams about curling up with a nice book in his office. After he’s finished with his expense reports, that is.
“So,” Sehun says.
“So,” Junmyeon answers.
“What was with the present?”
“Oh,” Junmyeon says, frowning. “I’d kinda forgotten.”
“How could you forget about a massive present that you almost crushed under your body weight?” Sehun asks. “Don’t you wanna know what’s inside?”
“Well, now that you mention it, it’s all I can think about,” Junmyeon says. “But, I mean, aren’t you supposed to wait for Christmas? You know. Do not open until the 25th.”
“Who cares?” Sehun asks. “I would open it.”
Junmyeon shrugs. “I feel like that ruins the magic.”
“Well, of the two of us, you’ve always been the one with holiday cheer,” Sehun says with a smile. “What do I know? Save it for Christmas.”
They get to the bookstore, and Sehun wordlessly takes the mug from Junmyeon’s hand as he unlocks. He shoots a look at the storefront, beautifully decorated with twinkle lights, a carefully cultivated selection of books, and paper snowflakes strung along the panes. It looks perfect, but he’s been nagging Sehun about the caulking for what feels like an eternity.
Sehun follows his eye line and sighs.
“I’ll fix it today,” Sehun says.
“You’ve been saying that for days now,” Junmyeon says. “I’m just saying, there will be a reason the heating bill will be sky-high this month.”
“That’s what you get for leasing an old building,” Sehun says. “Drafts, creaky floorboards, and ghosts.”
“I feel like it adds a little to the ambience.”
“Stealing it directly from your wallet,” Sehun says as Junmyeon lets them both inside, turning on the lights behind them, the bells jingling as he shuts the door. “It’s your store. Not like I have a vested interest or anything.”
“Yeah, you’ve only been gainfully employed here for what, ten years?” Junmyeon scoffs.
“Hold it over my head, why don’t you? See if I get you a nice danish,” Sehun threatens. “I’ll pick the ugliest of the bunch.”
“Keep it up,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll make you wash the rugs.”
“Oh, gross.” Sehun frowns, rubbing his arms. “People come in with their dirty shoes… street grime and salt and everything.”
“Go get breakfast,” Junmyeon encourages, and he pulls out his wallet, slipping money into his hand. “It’ll be nice and warm by the time you get back.”
“Remember, we’re getting that shipment today,” Sehun says, shoving the money into his coat pocket. “Check the calendar.”
“Thank you for the reminder.”
“You don’t sound thankful.”
“That’s just my voice,” Junmyeon says.
“Where’s the cheer?” Sehun wonders. “Where’s the joy? Where’s all the merry and bright?”
“Too early for merry and bright.”
“I’ll take caffeinated and content for two hundred, Alex,” Sehun says, and he pushes out through the door, bells jingling behind him.
He looks around the empty bookshop, and for the first time in a great long while, he takes stock of things. It is not perfect, but it is his. Original wood floors, brick walls… the rugs are dirty, Sehun was right, but nothing a good wash can’t fix. The bookshelves were handmade from a local carpenter, oiled and dark. The lighting fixtures are old-looking Edison incandescent bulbs, and it gives the place a vintage, homey feel.
There’s a selection of armchairs along the far wall by the coffee station, each a different jewel tone, deep emerald, ruby, amethyst, and citrine. Pillows in neutral colors have been embroidered with small quotes from his favorite books, and honestly, Junmyeon thinks that might be his favorite part.
Junmyeon unthreads himself from his scarf and coat as he gives it one final look around, walking back to his office to deal with those reports. He wants to finish Pachinko and get started on a new book before the day is through.
❄
They walk home after a fairly normal day. Travelers and tourists stroll through the shop, relaxation leaking off of them in waves. Junmyeon finds it easy to make recommendations, aid them in their shopping experience when he’s finished with his more clerical tasks. Sehun is a good salesperson too, gently pushing the homemade paper and watercolor-painted bookmarks from a local craftswoman as he sits manning the old-fashioned register.
He regularly complains about it, but Junmyeon thinks it gives the shop that extra little something.
Sehun closes up and gets to work on caulking the windows, and Junmyeon orders dinner as he observes from the corner of the store. He sits in one of the big plush armchairs, legs all folded up as he reads.
“You look exceedingly comfortable,” Sehun says, brushing sweat away from his forehead.
“I’m the boss, I get to be comfortable,” Junmyeon smiles.
“I’m just about done here anyway,” Sehun says, “if you wanna start locking everything up.”
Junmyeon closes his new book, Mexican Gothic, and by the time he’s finished filing things away, last minute touches for the following day, Sehun is buttoning himself back into his jacket. Junmyeon joins him, smiling, and they walk down the street towards House of Pizza. Sehun picks up the order, and they walk back to Junmyeon’s together.
“I wonder if it will snow again tonight,” Sehun says, looking up at the starry dark blue sky, and he turns to Junmyeon. “I’ll salt your walk on my way out.”
“Don’t worry about it, I can get it,” Junmyeon says.
“Gotta pay you back for the pizza.”
“You got coffee.”
“You got breakfast.”
“You got lunch?”
“We are gonna do this until we’re dead, huh,” Junmyeon says.
“What’s better than trading the same twenty dollars back and forth?” Sehun smiles, and he opens the storm door with his free hand once they arrive, holding the pizza out with the other. “After you.”
Junmyeon opens the door with haste, and they kick off their shoes in a cold house. Junmyeon hurriedly fiddles with the thermostat, shuffling towards the kitchen, still wrapped up in his coat.
“You have to start dressing warmer,” Sehun advises. “You’re always freezing.”
“Maybe it’s just that I have low iron,” Junmyeon says. “Ever thought of that?”
“Did you get a white pizza?” Sehun asks, peeking under the lid. “Spinach would be good for you.”
“Please. Peppers and onions, just the way you like it.” He points towards his cabinet. “Get some plates. You want a beer? Glass of wine?”
“I’m good with water.” Sehun turns, gesturing with Junmyeon’s china. “Are you seriously not curious about that at all? Like, it really is the elephant in the room.”
Junmyeon had forgotten all about it, yet again. He squints at the extravagant gift sitting on his counter.
“I’m not worried about it,” Junmyeon says. “Probably from my mom.”
“Please. If it was your mom, she would have come in and made you tea,” Sehun laughs, and he pulls himself two slices from the box. “I just wonder…”
“It feels like you’re more invested in this than I am,” Junmyeon says. “Come on, let’s go watch Charlie Brown.”
“Junmyeon.”
“What?”
“There’s still two weeks until Christmas,” Sehun whines.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Junmyeon says. “Twelve days. There are exactly twelve days until Christmas. Besides, this is the most important stretch by far.”
“Explain.”
“In order to properly enjoy the holiday season, several conditions must be met.”
“Oh my god.”
“First, you must engage in merriment,” Junmyeon says. “This includes, but is not limited to: watching holiday movies, decorating, listening to Christmas songs, driving around to see the lights, drinking festive hot beverages like hot cocoa, spiced coffee, and things with peppermint in them—”
“Peppermint chocolate, continue,” Sehun says.
Junmyeon wrinkles his nose. “Second, you must be mindful of the season, and you must do everything in your power to be a better version of yourself.”
“So now Christmas is life-coaching me,” Sehun complains.
“And last but not least,” Junmyeon smiles, “you get your friends and family the best presents imaginable and lord it over them until next Christmas.”
“Whatever you say,” Sehun says, and he pads over to Junmyeon’s couch, settling in for an evening filled with cheer against his will. “You are the best at gifts.”
“That’s what they tell me,” Junmyeon says cockily.
❄
Junmyeon is in the middle of cleaning up after Sehun’s gone when his eyes land on the present. Sehun made him curious, infected him with the idea, and for that, he will pay. Just as he told Sehun, Junmyeon isn’t in the business of opening before the 25th, the sacred rule passed down through the ages. Still he thinks, what would be the harm in opening the card and reading the message inside?
He walks over, and he brushes his fingertips against his name on the front of the tag, an elegant calligraphy so looped and beautifully rendered that he can barely read it.
He opens the tag along the crease, and there is a message in an unfamiliar hand-writing inside.
Junmyeon,
By the end of these Twelve Days of Christmas, everything will be known, all will be merry, all will be bright.
Heart thumping in his chest, he notices that it is only signed with an initial.
C
His stomach drops, and for a moment, he considers not opening it.
He shouldn’t open it.
He really shouldn’t.
Unseasonal, discordant greed leaps into his throat.
He tears open the present, pulling the thick wrapping paper to reveal the cardboard box. He grabs a knife, slicing into the masking tape and pulling the flaps open to reveal... an assortment of Tatcha sheet masks? He takes them out, marveling at them one by one, countless different products all in the signature purple: Dewy Skin, Deep Hydration, Revitalizing Eye Masks.
Just when he’s unpacked all of them, assuming that would be the end of that, he notices there at the bottom of the large cardboard box rests a lavender-wrapped wooden box surrounded by bubble wrap and air packs. Fragile. Lovely.
The kiribako is elegant and rich, and he unwraps it from the purple cloth covering to reveal the soft, beautiful wood beneath, stamped with the Tatcha logo in bright, lustrous gold. He lifts the lid, stunned by the beautiful treasures within. The camellia cleanser, the rice polish exfoliant, the essence, the eye cream, the brightening serum… the luxury seems to go on and on.
Junmyeon marvels at the gift, thinking that it must have cost a relative fortune. He ghosts his fingers over the heavy glass, the slick, smooth surface. He turns, and he does what he always does when there is a crisis.
The familiar sound of FaceTime dialing fills the empty kitchen, and Junmyeon paces nervously.
“What’s wrong?” Sehun asks, cold air puffing out of his mouth as he walks. “Forget something?”
“I opened the gift,” Junmyeon says, playing with the hem of his sweater.
“Nice,” Sehun smiles before he knits his eyebrows together. “Wait, what happened to your rule?”
“T-The tag,” Junmyeon says. “It said—someone’s giving me twelve gifts. Twelve Days of Christmas.”
“Oh, cool!” Sehun says, eyes bright and wide before his whole face melts into a frown. “Who’s it from? Why do you look so upset?””
“I-I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “I… there was no name.”
“There was no name?” Sehun asks.
“T-There was an initial.”
“What initial?”
Junmyeon waffles, biting his lip before he confesses. “C.”
“Oh my god,” Sehun laughs, throwing his head back, cheeks and nose pink with the night’s cold. “Good luck with that one.”
“It’s not funny,” Junmyeon says. “What’s funny about this?”
“Everything,” Sehun says. “Literally everything about it. You know you have to go see him, right? You have to talk things out. Be an adult and everything.”
“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Junmyeon groans.
“Well, perfect timing,” Sehun says, and he steps onto his porch with a smile. “I’ll be going now. I need to defrost.”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever to you,” Sehun says as he opens the door, and he is bathed in darkness for a moment before turning on the lights. “You want coffee tomorrow?”
Junmyeon sulks. “Yes, please.”
“Be nice to me, then,” Sehun smiles. “Plus, I’ll even let you run out to deal with your boyfriend during lunch.”
“Boyfriend?” Junmyeon squawks. “Let?”
“Good night,” Sehun sings.
“I hate you,” Junmyeon says, and he hangs up the call, slumping to the counter in front of him.
It takes him a moment, but eventually, he takes his new skincare routine upstairs with a cup of hot chocolate, resolute to at least enjoy the present before he deals with the shrapnel.
❄