It had been several hours since both boys had collapsed in their sleep. Han had his face buried in the older's chest, his hands were gripping Minho's shirt, as if to say "Stay". He didn't want to go on in life without that boy anymore.

Meanwhile the older was holding him close as if he was afraid that Jisung might disappears. Minho didn't want to lose him again. 

They both were sleeping, peacefully, entwined, and the night seemed to proceed well. But it didn't go on for long.

Close to the other's body, Han immediately noticed when Minho began to tremble and he woke up with a start. 

«Min?» he called, trying to figure out what was happening. The boy seemed shaken by sobs. Was he having a nightmare?

With sleepy eyes Jisung looked for the lamp on the bedside table to have some light and turned to look at Minho. The boy's face was beaded with sweat, he had a terrified expression and his hands clenched into fists. He was crying.

«Minho!» Jisung grabbed his shoulders and shook him, trying to wake him up. 

Soon Minho's eyes widened, they were filled with terror and bounced from one side of the room to the other, trying to figure out where he was. But in a few moments he brought the face before him into focus. He scanned Jisung, as if to make sure it was really him and that he was okay.

«Jisung...» he murmured and grabbed him, making him fall onto his chest. He hold the younger in his arms and kept sobbing, burying his face in the other's neck.

Han felt his own eyes fill with tears too. He had never seen Minho in that condition and it was heartbreaking.

«It's okay, it was just a nightmare...» the younger murmured, letting himself be hugged and hugging him back, «It's okay, Min, don't cry...»

Minho said nothing and stopped crying a few minutes later, embarrassed by the dramatic scene he had done. Still, he didn't let go. He kept holding Jisung close to his body, as if their life depended on that hug.

«Min?» Jisung called him after a bit, trying in vain to break away from him, «Are you okay?»

«Please...» Minho's hoarse voice came as a whisper, «Let's stay like this a little bit more.»

Han sighed. He relaxed against the other again and began stroking his hair, worried.

«Do you want to tell me what you dreamed?» he asked softly, when he felt Minho's breathing on his neck finally becoming normal.

The older didn't answer.

He dreamed every night. Every single night he was tormented by nightmares and he wanted to talk about them but... They were too bad.

Tears began to flow from his eyes again and, despite not wanting the other to notice, a sob escaped his lips.

Han broke free from that strong grip and finally looked at his face. Minho avoided his gaze but Jisung could see it clearly: he was so broken.

«Minho...» Jisung took his face in his hands and rested his forehead against his, making the other's heart stop for that closeness.

«Talk to me. I want to be there for you too.»

Minho finally nodded, knowing that Jisung was right. He had to allow the boy to take care of him too. Trust also means this, right? To show yourself vulnerable, to show your deepest part.

He sighed and wiped his face with his hands, still lying on the bed. Han had sat close to him, legs crossed, and he never took his eyes off Minho's face, waiting for him to open up.

«I dream of you.» the older said, not knowing how to tell the everything else.

«Me? And what did I do to make you cry that bad?» Han blurted out, trying to joke and release the tension. But Minho's face was damn serious. He couldn't say that out loud, he didn't even want to think those words. 

He sat up and began torturing his fingers, in his mind the images and sensations of his nightmare returned and returned again.

«Minho?» Jisung's voice was full of concern.

The older raised his head and his eyes quickly met Jisung's, filling with tears once more. A desperate, almost guilty, expression was on his face, imploring:

"Don't make me say it, Jisung."

And from that gaze and the way Minho immediately looked away, Jisung understood: Minho's nightmares were about Han taking his own life. And the boy couldn't do anything about it, like what happened with Haneul. He felt it was his fault, also this time.

Jisung grabbed Minho's hands and brought them to his soft cheeks, letting himself be caressed, «Look at me, Minho.» and the older obeyed, once again shaken by a sob.

«Not gonna happen.» Jisung told him, looking into his eyes. His cheeks were streaked with tears too, his voice cracked, but his eyes were firm, «I won't leave you.»

Minho sobbed harder and threw himself into the other's arms, seeking comfort.

«I won't leave you, Minho.» Han repeated, holding the older tightly, trying to hold back his own sobs.

He cried for Minho, for what he had been through. He cried at the idea of ​​himself taking his own life, which had often crossed his mind and some of his scars reminded him of it. He cried for Haneul, he had never met him but he had a special place in Minho's heart.

He was crying, once again, for a past that didn't stop chasing after them.

.           .           .

Days passed and they met often, like they used to. They came home from work hand in hand, slept together and woke up in the same bed. Han continued his therapy at a remarkable pace. He felt strong some days and very fragile others, but he wanted to carry on.

Minho was having nightmares much less frequently and was gaining weight back, as well as his usual energy. He smiled more often, went to work with the desire to do well and danced with passion.

It was a normal Saturday the first time Han returned to Minho's house after all those weeks. The older wanted to cook him a special dinner and they wanted to fall asleep watching anime together.

Jisung was lying on the bed, wearing Minho's t-shirt because the latter loved seeing him in his clothes. He was waiting for the other to finish his shower, when his eyes fell on a diary on the nightstand next to the bed.

It was his diary. Minho had had it the whole time they were apart.

He sat up and, curious, grabbed it. There was a bookmark and Jisung opened that page, amazed to see that the writing was backwards. He turned the notebook over and began to read.

"Jisung, where are you? I miss you."

Han's eyes widened at that first sentence. 

"I'm afraid I ruined everything. I'm afraid you hate me."

Minho had blurred on those pages, he done it as if he were writing directly to him while trying to give him his space.

"How can I live without seeing your smile?"

"I know you need space, I know you need time, but I need you instead."

Han saw drops wetting the pages of the diary and realized he had started to cry. Minho had blamed himself for what had happened and had missed his presence as much as Jisung had missed him.

"I just wish I could make you happy, erase all your pain and see you smile every day."

"I haven't seen you in two weeks... Please, tell me you're okay."

Han continued to sob, sentence after sentence, reading about Minho feeling guilty, about Minho being worried about him, and page after page Han was reduced to a mess.

"I spend every day at the Café, I help Chan, it makes me feel closer to you. It's as if you were there and at any moment you could emerge from behind the counter with that yellow apron.

I'm probably going crazy."

"I couldn't make you feel better, I hope therapy can. I just want you to be happy."

«Ji?»

The older had returned to the room and had seen the other sitting on the bed, his head bowed.

Han looked up suddenly and showed his teary face. Minho widened his eyes and quickly approached him, «Ji! What happened?» but as he finished his question, he saw the diary in the younger's hands and sat next to him, «Are you okay?»

Han looked at him and nodded, a thought popping into his mind, «Min, how did you know about my therapy?»

Minho held his breath for a few moments, unsure what to do. He knew that telling the truth was always the best thing to do, but he had no idea how Han would have reacted. Would have he been angry? Would have he walked away from him again?

He couldn't know, but he knew exactly what the right thing to do was.

«I hope this doesn't hurt you, but I'm helping your mom pay for the therapy.» he said simply, looking the other in the eyes.

Han sighed and looked down, «To be honest, I knew it»

Minho blinked repeatedly, «Did you know it?»

Han nodded, «It seemed impossible to me that my mother had all that money and, well, I know the password to her account. I saw your bank transfers.»

«Are you angry?»

Han wiped the tears from his face and shook his head, «How could I? At most I'm embarrassed, you shouldn't have done it, I will never be able to reciprocate» he murmured, looking at his fingers.

«I don't want anything in return!» Minho blurted out, almost offended, «I did it without even knowing that you would have talked to me again!»

«I know this too» Han murmured, looking at him with admiring eyes. Minho was so damn perfect, so damn good.

Minho grabbed the diary, taking it out of Jisung's hands. His eyes fell on some of the sentences he had written and he suddenly blushed, embarrassed.

Han looked at him and smiled, «You were right, you're fucking romantic» he joked, noticing the other's ears turning red. 

Minho allowed himself to linger on Jisung. The boy's face was red for crying, streaked with tears, but his eyes were cheerful, lively, his lips were smiling. He was breathtaking.

He looked away quickly, feeling his stomach do somersaults, and put the diary away.

«I have never been romantic. You drove me crazy, stupid»

.          .          .

It was December 22, Minho had holidays from the agency, while Han continued to work. So the older spent his days sitting at the Little Cupcake, drinking coffee, eating sweets and looking at that gorgeous boy, who wore a red apron for the Christmas season and a headband with reindeer horns on his head. He was adorable.

Jisung worked more cheerfully thanks to Minho's presence, blushing from time to time, above all when he noticed the other's eyes fixed on him, and he couldn't wait to finish his shift to go home hand in hand with his friend, crawl into the blankets and watch a Christmas movie together.

«Minho, what will you do on 25th?» Chan asked, as the two were cleaning the place. In Korea, Christmas is not such a heartfelt holiday but Chan, from an Australian family, loved it.

Minho glanced at Jisung who seemed interested in the conversation and had stopped emptying the dishwasher to listen. They hadn't been able to talk about it yet, but Minho would have really liked to spend Christmas with the younger.

«To be honest I don't celebrate it, I generally stay at home with my cats» he said, slightly embarrassed to say it out loud.

When he was little he missed a family, a real family, with whom he could spend holidays even more important than Christmas, but in the last few years he had gotten used to it and that day was for him a simple day off from work. Yet, saying it out loud made it sound sadder than it actually was and he knew Chan would look at him with pity.

«What?» the orange haired boy blurted out, in his thick Australian accent, while Jisung felt his heart ache at those words. He hadn't accepted that for some years his Christmas had been so lonely and felt a strong connection with Minho, once again.

During his childhood, Han's and Seojun's families celebrated it together, with a wonderful dinner, lots of gifts and an impressive tree. Over the years he began to spend Christmas more with friends than with family, until he found himself alone with Eun, because he wanted it that way. After his father's death and his distancing from Seojun, Christmas had become extremely sad. His mother tried to prepare a wonderful dinner and decorate the house anyway, without his help, and they ended watched films until late. Sometimes they exchanged a small gift, if the economic situation allowed it.

He didn't want to spend such a sad Christmas anymore and he absolutely didn't want Minho to feel alone.

«I have almost forgotten!» he said, slapping himself on the forehead theatrically, attracting the attention of the other two, «Mom asked me to invite you, to invite you both for the 25th!»

Chan held back a smile and glanced at Minho who seemed equally amused by that scene. Han cared about him and it could be noticed from these little things.

«I can't say no to Haru» the dancer replied, accepting the invitation, while Chan declined - he had a family and he usually couldn't spent much time with them. Jisung obviously expected this, but he was almost happier to have Minho all to himself for Christmas.

As they returned to the Han house that evening, Minho was looking at Jisung smiling.

«Why so happy this evening? You're almost disturbing» the younger sneered.

«Christmas together, huh?» Minho smiled, tightening his hand that was already wrapped around the other's.

Jisung blushed, «Well, why not?» he grumbled.

«Are you sure the invitation came from your mom?» Minho added, with a cheeky smirk. He loved teasing the other, «You can tell me if you want me all to yourself at Christmas»

Han grumbled again, pulling his hat further over his eyes, «All right, I want you to stay with us for Christmas. Are you happy now?» he snapped, pouting, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

«I want to be with you too» Minho replied in a soft voice, gently running his thumb over Han's wrist.

Jisung felt a pleasant warmth envelop him but he couldn't say a word. He held back a smile and continued walking in silence, until they reached Han's house.

As soon as they walked through the door, they knew something was different. Christmas music was playing throughout the house, Haru's voice humming came from the living room and the two boys looked at each other perplexed, holding back a laugh. Christmas fever hadn't just hit Chan.

«Mom? We are home!» Han announced, walking towards the living room and seeing his mother on the ladder hanging lights in the window.

«Hanie! Minho! Hurry and help me!» she exclaimed smiling, pointing to the small, still empty Christmas tree.

The two boys looked at each other again and with a big smile on their faces began to decorate the house, humming Michael Bublé songs and wearing, against their will, sweatshirts and Christmas hats that Haru had bought for them - "So we're matched" she had said.

Maybe that year Christmas would have come for all of them.

Moon's note:

It's summer and I'm writing about xmas, lmao! Do u like Xmas? How do u celebrate it in your country?? I'm so courious!

Anyway, I am not fully satisfied of this chapter, how it is written! Let me know if u like it!!

Kisses