A Crisis, A Confession, and the Kids' Final Verdict

Santa was never going to survive this.

His dad and Perth were sitting across from each other, casually drinking coffee like this was a normal day, while Santa was having an existential crisis in the kitchen.

"My dad knows. My dad has known. My dad is talking to Perth like they're already in-laws. I need to leave the country. Maybe change my name. Fake my own death. Anything but go back out there."

Unfortunately, hiding wasn't an option.

Because—

"Sweetheart, I know you're eavesdropping."

Santa jumped.

Perth's voice—smooth, amused, teasing—drifted into the kitchen way too easily.

Santa peered out slowly, watching the scene unfold like a nightmare.

His dad and Perth were talking.

Laughing.

Getting along way too well.

Santa gulped. "T-this isn't happening."

Perth smirked, turning toward him. "It is, sweetheart. Come sit down."

Santa wanted to run.

His dad raised an eyebrow. "Santa. You're making this weird."

Santa gawked. "I—I'm making this weird?!"

Perth chuckled. "Sweetheart, you kissed me back. You don't get to act surprised anymore."

Santa malfunctioned on the spot.

His dad sighed, taking a sip of coffee. "So. How long have you two been dancing around each other?"

Santa squeaked. "We—we haven't—!!"

Perth tilted his head. "A few months."

Santa whipped toward him, betrayed. "YOU—!!"

Chanthanon snorted. "Yeah, I figured."

Santa turned to his dad. "DAD!!"

Chanthanon shrugged. "I'm just saying. I had bets running in the department that it'd take longer. Guess I lost."

Santa was going to pass out.

Perth leaned forward, grinning. "Oh? How much did you bet?"

Santa slammed his hands on the table. "DON'T ENCOURAGE THIS!!"

Perth chuckled, clearly having the time of his life.

Chanthanon, finishing his coffee, stood up. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. I've got work."

Santa panicked. "Wait—you're just leaving?! Just like that?!"

Chanthanon smirked. "Why? You want me to chaperone?"

Santa sputtered. "I—NO—THAT'S NOT—"

Chanthanon patted his head like he was still five. "Relax, kid. I trust you."

Santa froze.

His dad gave him a knowing look. "And I trust Perth, too."

Perth smirked. "Smart man."

Santa glared. "Shut up."

Chanthanon chuckled. "Be good, you two."

And then—he was gone.

Santa stood there, stunned.

Perth leaned back, watching him way too amused. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Santa, still in shock, turned to him.

"Perth."

"Hmm?"

"My dad basically just approved of us."

Perth smirked. "Yeah. What about it?"

Santa covered his face with both hands.

"I need to sit down."

Perth chuckled. "Take your time, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere."

And somehow—that was the part that made Santa's heart race the most.

Santa was having a very bad day.

Or, well—a very confusing one.

Because last night, Perth had basically told him:

"If you want to be mine, all you have to do is say so."

And Santa hadn't known what to do with that.

He still didn't.

Because what were they?

Not boyfriends. Not friends. Just—flirting.

But now, Santa knew it wasn't just flirting for Perth anymore.

And that?

That made everything so much worse.

The Late-Night Crisis

Santa sat in his apartment, staring at his ceiling.

His laptop lay open beside him, but for the first time in forever, he wasn't in the mood to code, hack, or even prank Perth.

Because his brain wouldn't stop replaying that moment.

The way Perth had looked at him.

The way his voice had dipped into something softer, something real.

The way Santa had felt—trapped, warm, nervous, and yet... safe.

Like if he had just reached out, Perth would have caught him.

"Sweetheart, if you want to be mine, all you have to do is say so."

Santa pressed a pillow to his face.

"What does he even mean by that?!"

Santa knew he wasn't oblivious.

He knew Perth liked him.

But liking someone wasn't the same as dating them.

And right now, they were stuck in something messy.

So, what did Santa want?
Santa didn't know.

And that?

That was the real problem.

---

Santa had barely slept.

But unfortunately, he didn't have time to dwell on it.

Because Perth showed up bright and early, as always.

"Morning, sweetheart," Perth greeted, sliding into his seat like he hadn't caused an emotional crisis the night before.

Santa, grumpy, sleep-deprived, and confused, huffed. "Morning."

Perth blinked. "No blush today? I must be losing my touch."

Santa ignored him.

Perth smirked, but then—he tilted his head.

"Did you sleep?"

Santa froze.

"...Yes."

Perth raised an eyebrow. "Sweetheart."

Santa groaned. "Okay, fine! No, I didn't! Happy?!"

Perth's smirk faded slightly, replaced by something softer.

And that?

That was so much worse.

Because now Perth was looking at him with actual concern.

Santa turned away, suddenly very focused on making coffee.

"Just thinking too much," he muttered.

Perth hummed. "About?"

Santa hesitated.

Then—before he could say anything—

The kids arrived.

And all hell broke loose.

Lina immediately sensed drama.

She stared between Santa and Perth, eyes narrowing.

"You guys look different," she announced.

Santa panicked. "N-no, we don't!"

Perth smirked. "Yeah, sweetheart. We don't look different."

Santa kicked him under the table.

Lina was not convinced.

She turned to the other kids, whispering something.

Then—as a group—they all huddled together in the corner of the café.

Santa blinked. "...What are they doing?"

Perth sipped his coffee. "Judging us, probably."

Santa gulped. "Oh no."

Then—after a long, suspicious silence—

The kids turned back.

Lina stepped forward.

And then—the betrayal.

"We've decided," she announced, crossing her arms. "You can't marry Santa."

Santa choked on air.

Perth, amused, raised a brow. "Oh?"

Lina nodded firmly. "Yes. We talked about it."

Another kid, Jin, piped up. "You tease him too much!"

Santa froze.

Perth blinked. "...That's the reason?"

Lina crossed her arms. "Yeah! Santa is cute and sweet! You keep making him all red and flustered! It's mean!"

Santa, still recovering from the fact that this was happening, covered his face.

"Lina," he groaned, "why are we talking about marriage?!"

She gasped dramatically. "Are you saying you wouldn't marry him?!"

Santa whimpered.

Perth, not helping at all, rested his chin in his palm. "Yeah, sweetheart. Are you saying you wouldn't marry me?"

Santa's soul left his body.

He turned, horrified, to find Perth smirking.

So satisfied. So entertained.

Lina narrowed her eyes. "See?! He's doing it again!"

The kids nodded in agreement.

Perth chuckled. "Alright, alright. What do I have to do to earn your approval?"

Lina tapped her chin, thinking.

Then—she grinned.

"You have to promise to be nice to Santa for a whole week!"

Santa gasped. "Lina—!!"

But it was too late.

Perth smirked. "And if I do?"

Lina beamed. "Then we'll let you marry him!"

Santa was going to scream.

Perth chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, deal."

Santa turned to him, betrayed. "WHAT?!"

Perth just winked. "Guess I have to behave, sweetheart."

Santa buried his face in his hands.

The kids cheered.

And just like that—Perth had won again.