Sitting with the boys as presents were passed and opened, you smiled to yourself, seeing the recipient of your secret Santa gift cheer after tearing the paper clean off the gift you had gotten.
There was only one thing left inside the small circle that the eight of you had formed. A simple envelope with your name on it sat in the now empty space; picking it up, you tried to figure out whose handwriting it was.
Gently opening the envelope and taking out the paper inside, you gasped, reading the contents as all the boys watched on eagerly, smirking and glancing around knowingly.
It was a letter of confession, a love letter.
Your eyes skimmed over the paper as your heart swelled from the admiring words. You felt your face blush when you realized that seven pairs of eyes were still on you, and one of them, in particular, would be watching your every move.
“Wait! Whose my secret Santa?” the boys just smiled mischievously as they watched you re-read the letter hoping to figure out who the writer was.
“I can’t believe Joey has finally brought someone home for Christmas!” Dorine cheered excitedly, bringing down the plates from the cupboard. “Oh to think, all my babies are going to be married soon…”
“Don’t worry, we’ll all always be home for Christmas though.” Tammy smiled, helping bring the plates to the table.
“How did they meet again?” You asked, coming into the kitchen and heading to the counter. Tossing the salad in the bowl, you listened for the answer to your question.
“College, but they reconnected recently.” Grace informed you.
“How sweet.” You grinned. “I’ve never seen Joey like this, he must really like her.”
“It’s definitely serious.” Grace agreed. “Joey dates around but he never brings anyone home.”
“Okay, we’re ready!” Dorine said. “Just bring the salad to the table when you’re done Y/N.”
Dorine, Tammy and Grace left the kitchen to gather the rest of the family at the dinner table.
“Joey and I laid the table.” You heard Mark announced from the other room. He walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and planting a kiss on your cheek. “Hi baby. How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.” You turned around to peck him, before laughing. “But you don’t have to keep asking me how I’m feeling, I’m only 12 weeks.”
“I know but I just want to make sure you’re not over exerting yourself. It’s bad for the baby!”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you handed him the salad bowl that was now tossed. “Okay, okay. Can you take this bowl to the table?”
“Of course.” He smiled, feeling very helpful. Mark took the bowl from your hands and walked away to the table.
You and Mark had agreed not to mention anything to the family until you were past the first trimester. However with Raymond and Grace offering you a drink every other hour it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide.
Sighing, you closed the kitchen light and walked to the dining table where everyone had gathered. Upon seeing you, Mark jumped out of his seat and pulled your chair for you. Smiling, you heard Raymond tap his knife to his glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Hi everyone.” He started, smiling. “I’d like to make a little toast.”
Everyone slowly quieted down, eager to hear the speech.
“I want to thank god for the food and amazing people gathered tonight. And I want to welcome Abby, the newbie this year.” Raymond smiled. “I can’t tell you how much I love having everyone together for the holidays… so without further ado, let’s eat!”
The family cheered as they began to dig into the spread of food laid out on the table.
+++
“So Abby,” Mark spoke up. “How did my meathead brother convince you to spend Christmas with us?”
Flustered, you watched as Joey’s girlfriend looked at Mark. “Oh- uh I was just in town and he messaged to meet up and the rest is history.”
“Ah, I see.” Mark laughed. “He’s not as smooth as he thinks he is.”
Grace chuckled at her brother’s remark before turning to you. “Want some wine Y/N? I think mom just opened up a Cabernet.”
“Oh no thank you,” you declined politely. “I’m good for now.”
“Don’t give your baby brother a hard time Mark,” Tammy winked. “You’re going to scare Abby off.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t run off already.” Mark teased.
“You’re so funny Mark.” Joey rolled his eyes. “Speaking of running off... Don’t you remember Christmas three years ago?”
You bit back a laugh as you watched Mark frown. He was rather sensitive about the situation.
“What happened?” Abby asked curiously.
“Oh you don’t know?” Tammy perked up. “It’s a Tuan family folktale.”
“What?”
“Oh please Tammy.” You laughed. “I’d hardly call it that.”
“It was pretty wild Y/N.” Grace chimed in.
You heard Kylie, Leila and Bailey from the end of the table “It’s really funny!”
“I’d call it straight out of a hallmark Christmas Movie.” Dorine laughed.
“Okay, now I really want to know. What happened three years ago?” Abby turned to Joey.
“Mom had called Mark up asking him about his Christmas plans and who he would be spending the holiday with.” Joey recounted. “At the time Mark was busy, but they cancelled his schedule. It was a fanmeet or something right?”
“A concert.” Mark corrected.
“Anyway, he panicked because he’d lied and said he was seeing someone. So he did what any normal person would do...”
“He admitted that he lied?” Abby suggested.
“Nope! He managed to convince Y/N to fly here and be his fake girlfriend for the holidays.”
“What?!” Abby’s eyes widened. She then turned to you, “is that true?”
“Unfortunately.” You looked at Mark with a small smile.
“So then what happened?” Abby turned back to Joey.
“Well then they actually started to fall for each other… which by the way no one knew. We all just saw them acting like a couple and thought it was for real.”
“Not all of us!” Tammy interjected. “I had a sneaking suspicion that something was up.”
“Yeah right Tammy.” Mark scoffed. “Nobody had any idea, that’s how great we were at acting.”
He held up a hand for you to high five which you did.
“No! Y/N, didn’t I pull you aside and tell you?” Tammy turned to you.
“You didn’t tell me that you thought we were faking it.” You replied. “Just that you thought Mark loved me.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “She did?!”
You nodded with a chuckle.
“Okay anyway can I finish the story?” Joey asked.
“Yes please continue.” Raymond spoke between bites of his food.
“So they were fake dating and then they fell in love for real? Wow…” Abby said.
“You think that’s dramatic? Then Y/N’s ex showed up at our door!” Joey narrated. “A little backtrack to the story, Y/N had only agreed to come with Mark because she’d just broken up with her fiancé.”
“Oh shit! So he showed up?” Abby said, turning to you. “Then what happened?”
“Mark let her go. He let her leave with her fiancé and told us that she had some family emergency.” He continued. “Pretty stupid if you ask me.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, if you love something then you should let it free, because if it really loves you it’ll come back?” Mark asked.
“Yes. And it’s a dumb saying.” Joey replied.
Mark rolled his eyes, letting out a huff. “I just wanted Y/N to be happy and I thought that it meant being with him.”
“Whatever bro.” His younger brother laughed.
“So that was it? Y/N just left?” Abby asked her boyfriend.
“Well… I’m not too sure about the details after that.” Joey admitted.
“I’ll tell you. I dumped the jerk for the second time in the car ride to his hotel. Then I made him drop me off somewhere and I stayed at a dumpy motel until my flight.” You recounted. “I didn’t come back here because I thought your brother didn’t like me and wanted to get rid of me.”
“You thought that?” Mark asked sadly, grabbing your hand.
“What else was I supposed to think?” You laughed. “You walked me straight out of your house and into the car with him.”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed your hand.
“So then after moping around for a few days, mom and dad asked him what had really happened and Mark had to come clean.” Joey told Abby.
“Oh wow…” Abby trailed off, thinking about the story.
“Yeah, Mark had to chase Y/N at the airport and catch her before she got on the flight back.”
“You chased her at the airport?! That’s so romantic.” Abby sighed.
“Well, it was romantic once the security guards let go of him.” You smiled. “They were really trying to drag him out of there. I was afraid they thought he was a hijacker or something.”
“I had to do whatever it took to get to you before you left.” Mark said. “Anyway it paid off didn’t it? Now we’re married and about to have a baby.”
Your eyes widened as you looked at Mark.
“Y/N IS PREGNANT?!” Dorine yelled across the table.
“Oh shit.” Mark cursed, frantic. “We weren’t really telling anyone yet since it’s so early.”
You watched as Dorine’s eyes welled with tears of happiness.
“It’s okay Mark.” You reassured him, looking around the table and smiling. “But yes, I found out a few weeks ago.”
“Oh my goodness I’m so happy!” Dorine cried. She stood up from her seat and hugged you. “This is the best Christmas present ever!”
“So that’s why you weren’t drinking.” Grace mused. “I was wondering why my wine buddy wasn’t having a glass tonight.”
You laughed at Grace, “I’m sorry, I’m going to be out of commission for the next 7 months.”
Pouting, she raised her wine glass “To Y/N and Mark. Merry Christmas!”
“To Y/N and Mark. Merry Christmas!” The table echoed back.
I hope you guys enjoyed this epilogue! I originally hadn’t planned one but I just thought this was a cute way to catch with the Tuan’s and tie the story up.
Summary: Sledding with Got6 and your boyfriend Jinyoung.
Masterlist
[14:09]
“Where are we going?” you question as you squeeze into the back seat beside Jinyoung.
“Sledding!” Youngjae excitedly announces from the other side of Jinyoung. You glance over at your boyfriend who lifts his shoulders in a shrug. Mark pulls out of the parking spot and drives onto the road with Jaebeom in the front passenger seat. Yugyeom, BamBam and Jackson sit in the row in front of yours, the youngest members giggling over something on BamBam’s phone while Jackson keeps himself preoccupied with his own phone.
“I wanted to do something else like ice skating, but Jackson’s scared of ice skating,” he says as he turns to look at Jackson in the front.
“It’s not my fault the ice is so scary.” Jackson turns around and raises his arms in defense. “Plus, your girlfriend doesn’t know how to skate either. What if (Y/n) got hurt?” All eyes land on you and your own eyes widen.
“Hey—I—you can’t use me like that,” you grumble, inching closer to Jinyoung’s side. He lets out a chuckle as he slings his arms over your shoulder to pull you closer against him.
“You’re cute.” Your cheeks flare at his statement and you bury your face in his shoulder to hide it. Jinyoung’s hand gently holds onto yours, his fingers interlacing with yours as he glances out the window and at the passing cars.
“How much farther is it?” BamBam asks as he leans towards the driver’s seat.
“Dude, we literally left like two minutes ago,” Jaebeom turns around in the passenger seat to look at him.
“It’s not that far, but be patient,” Mark hums with his eyes on the road. “It’ll probably take another five to ten minutes.”
“Oh my god!” Jaebeom groans while Youngjae giggles from his seat. “Shut up or I’ll make Mark hyung turn the car around!”
Mark laughs as he glances over at Jaebeom, “I’m not turning the car around.”
“Hyung, that was a threat to make them stop arguing,” he groans as Yugyeom and Jackson continue bickering. Jinyoung chuckles by your side and you look up to see him smiling as he watches their bicker turn into a louder argument.
“You guys are like kids,” he points out. Jinyoung’s simple statement gets them to shut up as they turn around to look at him.
“Yeah, like you don’t argue with us over things when you wanna get (Y/n) gifts,” Jackson huffs. Jinyoung visibly tenses and his eyes harden into a glare. You look up at him once more and giggle.
“You’re always arguing with Jaebeom hyung when he suggests things and you’re all ‘Beom, (Y/n) won’t like that. It’s stupid’ and then it turns into an argument because all Jaebeom hyung wants to do is eat,” Yugyeom adds.
“Don’t bring me into this!” Jaebeom sings without even giving much of a glance.
“Yugyeom,” Jinyoung starts as he turns to the maknae. “I am actually going to kill you.” Yugyeom responds by sticking his tongue out at him. “You little piece of—”
You grab onto your boyfriend’s wrist before he can do anything, making him turn to you. “It’s Yugyeom. He was born to annoy you.” Jinyoung sighs heavily through his nose before relaxing himself.
“Yugyeom, you’re lucky (Y/n) here to protect you,” he huffs.
“Even if she wasn’t here, it’s not like you would do anything about it,” he goads.
“You—” Jinyoung shoots up from his seat and grabs onto Yugyeom—who starts screaming—to try and yank him into the back seat.
“Jinyoung!” Jaebeom scolds from the front while Youngjae laughs. BamBam has whipped his phone out of his pocket to start recording while Jackson presses himself up against the car to avoid getting caught in the mess. You watch in disbelief while laughing, the whole scene just seeming surreal with how everyone in the car has either already hit their mid twenties or are on the way there, but the only person seemingly interested in stopping the fight is Jaebeom. Even Mark has seemed to completely ignore them to focus on the road.
“Is no one going to help me?!” Yugyeom cries out when Jinyoung managed to grab onto the hood of his hoodie.
“Hyung, I think that’s enough,” Youngjae laughs as he starts trying to pull Jinyoung away from Yugyeom. When he doesn’t let up, you gently hold onto his bicep, making him turn to you.
“Honey,” you say softly, giving him a look. He finally lets go of the hoodie and slumps into his seat.
“Wow,” Jackson sighs in awe. “Jinyoung’s never stopped attacking Yugyeom so easily before.”
“You are a godsend,” Youngjae jokes.
“Like I said,” you start, “Yugyeom was born to make your life harder. You said that yourself.” Jinyoung grumbles something under his breath before simply shutting up, his lips forming into a small pout. You let out a soft giggle as you take his hand in yours. “Don’t worry, Jinyoung. When we get to wherever we’re going, we can stay away from Yugyeom if you’d like.” He inaudibly grumbles something else before simply leaning his head against your shoulder, shooting a glare at Yugyeom.
“Alright, we’re here,” Mark announces as he parks the car.
“Thank god,” Jaebeom sighs in relief as he immediately steps out of the car.
“Do you have your coat?” Jinyoung questions as everyone starts piling out, his eyes stopping at you to make a double check. You nod with a hum of affirmation as you slip your arm through the sleeve of your coat. “Your gloves? I know your hands get extra cold.” You’re just about to nod when you pat down your pockets.
“Oh no,” you gasp as you stick your hands into all your pockets. You look around the car seat before turning to Jinyoung to see him holding your gloves out in front of you.
“You left them on the counter at Jaebeom’s apartment.” He hands the gloves to you while pressing a kiss to your nose before he climbs out of the car, helping you out right after.
“Alright, so I have a few snowboards in here,” Mark grunts as he pulls the boards out of the trunk, “who wants to sled and who wants to board?”
“I want the board!” Yugyeom’s hand shoots into the air.
“I want the board too!” BamBam follows.
“Boards for the demon line,” Mark chuckles as he hands them to the pair. “I have one last extra board,” he looks up.
“I’ll take it,” Jaebeom steps closer, taking the dark blue snowboard from him.
“I guess we’re sledding,” Jinyoung hums as he takes the black snow sled from Mark. “Shall we?” he turns to you with his hand extended.
“We shall,” you smile as you take his hand, letting him bring you to the slope. The snowfall was starting to get heavier with the passing days, making it more ideal to actually go sledding or snowboarding without having to go out of town.
“You go first, I’ll make sure you don’t crash into anything.” Jinyoung sets the sled onto the soft snow, patting the seat before he waddles through the snow and down the slope. He gives you a thumbs up and you slide closer to the slope with your legs before it starts sliding down on its own. The cold slaps your cheeks even harder now with the speed you were sledding and you let out a ‘whoop’ at how fast it was going. Jinyoung laughs as he watches you, his heart just filling with pure adoration. God, how he loves you.
“Jinyoung, go! It’s so fun!” you laugh when you reach the bottom, climbing off when Jinyoung steps closer to you. He stands in front of you with this bright simple on his face before he raises his hands to cup your frozen cheeks.
“You’re so cute,” he lowers his head and presses his lips to yours gently. Jinyoung pulls away with the same smile on his face, “I love you.” You stare at him wide eyed, flustered from the action before it registers in your mind.
Bambam is running the Christmas Raffle for “charity”, but you’re not convinced of his motives. Can someone as selfish as him ever understand the true spirit of Christmas?
Word Count: 5k
Part of : All I Want For Christmas Is: A GOT7 Collab
One Month Ago
“You know what I love most about Christmas?”
Yugyeom raised an eyebrow. He and Bambam were sitting in a cozy little coffee shop, drinking sugary mugs of hot chocolate to ward off the cold. Christmas decorations filled nearby stores and the holiday season was seeping into the atmosphere.
“Presents?” Yugyeom guessed. “I’m assuming you like the presents.”
Bambam made a face. “No, man. Let’s be real. People are shit at giving Christmas presents. I think the last time I got a present I actually wanted was when I was ten years old.”
“I bought you a designer jacket last year.”
“Which I loved.”
Yugyeom rolled his eyes. He knew when Bambam was being insincere and he had ceased to care. “Sure you did. You loved it so much that you never wore it. Anyway, I’ll bite. What do you love most about Christmas?”
Bambam grinned. “The spirit of giving.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I mean, not exactly the fact that I have to give,” Bambam clarified quickly. “But that everyone else is in a giving mood. People save up for Christmas-time. Workplaces give holiday bonuses. Wallets are full and purse-strings are loose, Yugyeom. Do you know what that means?”
Yugyeom took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Tell me.”
“When everyone wants to give, there needs to be somebody to take. And I selflessly volunteer to be that person. I intend to be the lucky recipient of all the goodwill that fills people’s hearts during this fine holiday season.”
“How?”
Bambam leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. “Where do people go to spend time and money during Christmas?”
“The White Miracle Market.”
“And what’s the best way to convince people to part with their money without promising anything in return?”
“... I don’t know.”
Bambam held up two fingers. “Number one, charity. Number two, the lottery. These are the ways you convince people to hand over cold, hard cash for nothing in exchange. It requires no investment but I will rake in the profits. Get ready, Yugyeom. I’m going to be rich by the end of Christmas; season of giving be damned.”
The White Miracle Market was a beautiful place to be during Christmas-time. The enormous Christmas tree, the twinkling lights, the creative stalls and shops and little eateries filled it's visitors with warmth and the true spirit of the holiday season. The streets echoed with laughter, pleasant chatter and screams of delight.
So why did that clumsy-looking raffle ticket counter give you bad vibes?
“Let’s go get some chocolate!” your friend suggested. “I heard that there are some awesome homemade chocolate stalls around the corner.”
“Just a second,” you insisted as you made a beeline for the raffle ticket counter. Your friend followed you, confused when you stopped a few feet away from the counter and squinted at it. The big colorful sign above the stall was handwritten. Standing behind the counter was a painfully familiar face.
Bambam.
“Hey. Isn’t that Bambam?” your friend asked with a giggle. “That guy you went on a date with that one time who stuck you with his bill?”
You flinched. There could not be a more unpleasant memory to recollect during the lovely holiday season. You had gone on exactly one date with Bambam; arguably the worst date of your life. The handsome young man had picked you up in his fancy car, driven you to one of the most expensive restaurants in town and nearly charmed your pants off with his smooth talk while he ordered all the priciest things on the menu.
And then he’d had the gall to ask you to pay half the bill.
It wasn’t the splitting of the bill that you had a problem with. You would have offered to share the cost even if he hadn’t asked. The problem was that Bambam had ordered three extra servings of the most expensive seafood dish on the menu, and two glass of the most expensive wine, while you’d had a salad and a coke.
His food had cost four times more than yours but he wanted to split the bill in half.
For shame.
Understandably, you’d politely turned down his offer of a second date and then ghosted him afterwards. Part of you wondered if he’d only asked Jackson to set the two of you up because you worked as a veterinary doctor and presumably earned a lot of money.
So what if Bambam was devastatingly handsome and tall and looked like a male supermodel?
He was a gold-digger.
“What is he doing here?” you grumbled.
Bambam was wearing a dark maroon Christmas sweater that hung off his slim frame and telling some wide-eyed kids about all the cool prizes they could win if they bought a raffle ticket. It seemed extremely unnatural for the man. He looked like a sleazy addition to the colorful, fun environment.
“Selling raffle tickets?” your friend asked with a chuckle.
“That’s weird.”
“Why is it weird? Lots of people organize events at the White Miracle Market. I set up a stall to sell handmade scarves last year, remember? Maybe Bambam wanted to organize the raffle. It’s probably for charity.”
You laughed. “Charity? Bambam? I’m not buying it.”
“Why not?”
“It just doesn’t suit his image, okay?”
“You mean it doesn’t suit the image you have of him,” she corrected. “Which, to be fair, is based on only one date that didn’t go very well. You can’t judge his personality based on that. Maybe he’s really a nice person and you caught him on a bad day? Now come on. I want chocolates and I’m not willing to wait!”
“What can I offer you ladies? A sweet, sugary delicacy? Or perhaps-something more dark and sinful?”
Your friend giggled. Jackson Wang was charming and flirtatious when it suited him. He had a cheerful smile on his face, but you couldn’t concentrate on the festive-shaped chocolates he was showing your friend.
“What’s Bambam up to?” you demanded abruptly.
Jackson blinked. “Sorry?”
“Your friend Bambam. He can’t be serious about that raffle ticket stall, right?”
“Oh now you’re curious about him?” Jackson raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest with a smug smirk. “Sorry, darling, no can do. You can’t come around here and suddenly show interest after ghosting him. You had your chance.”
You flushed. “I’m not interested in Bambam.”
“Then why are you worried about his raffle?”
“I just-well-”
“If it’s really the raffle you’re curious about, go ask him yourself,” Jackson told you.
“Maybe I will.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!” you stormed away, barely listening to Jackson calling for you to buy a chocolate first and help him make some money.
You couldn’t be mistaken about Bambam. It simply wasn’t possible.
He was a greedy, selfish, conniving little brat and you would prove it no matter what.
Bambam’s dark eyes widened in surprise when he recognized you. You reminded yourself miserably that whatever else the man lacked, he was undeniably handsome. His Christmas-themed sweater was as stylish as it could get, his long legs cushioned in expensive jeans and a silver watch adorned his wrist. Bambam was…
Classy.
“Hi,” you greeted him.
“Hey,” he responded with a sheepish smile. The curve of Bambam’s lips was almost shy; uncharacteristic for a man that was shameless enough to dump more than your share of an expensive bill on you. Looks could be deceiving. “I didn’t expect to see you around here. Are you here to check out the market?” he asked.
“Evidently,” you replied coldly.
“Oh. Nice.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Selling raffle tickets,” Bambam informed you cheerfully. He pointed to the board behind him that listed out all the prizes in bubbly red and green font. “First place wins a flat screen TV, second wins a new laptop and third an iphone. The next four people win gift hampers. What do you say? Want to try your luck? The proceeds go to charity!”
You raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Charity,” you repeated.
“Sure.”
“Which charity?”
“It’s… a charity for abused animals.”
“Fascinating. Tell me more.”
“Uh…” Bambam laughed awkwardly but he was saved from having to answer your question by a pair of 7-year old girls that interrupted you. One of them was dragging another by the hand and she pushed past you to the front of the counter.
“Can you show us the picture of the cat again?” the girl asked Bambam with a pout. “My friend wants to see them.”
“Uh-sure, kids-”
Bambam pulled out his cellphone and handed it to the girls. The other girl gasped as soon as she saw the picture; her hands went to cover her mouth in horror. “Oh no! It looks so thin and starved! What happened to all its hair?”
“The raffle ticket man told me some evil people pulled out her hair before she was rescued! We have to buy raffle tickets so that they can save the poor cats from those evil people!” the other girl insisted. You watched in disbelief as the two girls gave Bambam his phone back, along with fistfuls of coins to pay for their raffle tickets.
You waited until the kids left before you stared at Bambam.
“That’s a sphynx cat. It’s not supposed to have any hair,” you stated.
Bambam laughed awkwardly. “I mean, yeah, but you know kids. They have wild imaginations, and who are we to reign in their creativity, huh?” Bambam noticed the unimpressed look on your face and his smile dropped. “I know how this looks, and I’ll admit the cat was a white lie. But the raffle is really for charity! And you might win something!”
“I highly doubt that,” you replied dryly.
“But-”
“Because not only is that a sphynx cat, it’s your sphynx cat. Or did you forget that you showed me pictures of all your cats on our first date?”
Bambam bit his plump lips and sighed, shoulders slumping. He was painfully reminded that your first date had been your last date.
And not by his choice.
“Yeah, most girls are impressed by cute pets. I guess you’re used to them since you’re a vet? Or are you just not a fan of men who have cats?”
“I’m not a fan of men who take money from little girls on false pretences,” you quipped.
“But-”
“Hou can be better than this, Bambam. I hope someday you realize that money isn’t everything and there are more precious things in the world.”
Bambam was silent for a moment before he gave you a soft, sad smile.
Maybe it was your no-nonsense attitude and the way you never seemed to take any bullshit from anyone. Maybe it was that you were really kind and beautiful and you had this aura about you, one that had captivated him from the very first time he heard you speak.
Bambam had the biggest fucking crush on you.
But it didn’t matter, because he’d already had his chance and blew it.
“I just don’t get it,” he complained miserably. “Most women love me. I’m handsome and charming. How was she so put off by me on our first date?”
Jinyoung sighed. “Come on, man.”
“What? I genuinely don’t understand.”
“Let me put it this way.” Jinyoung reached into his pocket and pulled out an expired ticket, along with a pen. He flipped the ticket over and drew a line on it. “This line is the group of women that are interested in you. And this line right underneath is the group of women that you’re interested in.”
Bambam blinked at the two lines.
“I don’t get it.”
“They’re parallel lines, Bambam. They never meet.”
“So?”
“So you’re fucked,” Jinyoung replied simply. “Now go away.”
Bambam walked through the market miserably. His raffle ticket stall was doing great and he should have been delighted at the amount of money he was raking in. A little lack of ethics went a long way.
But he felt uncomfortable. Not because he was doing something wrong, but because of that weird, queasy feeling that you thought less of him.
Maybe Jinyoung was right. Maybe he was shooting for women that would never like him.
Women like you weren't easily impressed.
“Do you want to come play with our kittens?” a small voice asked.
Bambam stopped in his tracks, realizing he had nearly run over a young boy that was looking at him hopefully. The kid was wearing a vest with a paw print on it and Bambam couldn’t resist the urge to follow the boy over to a stall where a number of little kittens were running around in a small play pen.
“Wow,” he mumbled.
“You can play with them!” the kid prompted.
Bambam chuckled, bending over to reach into the pen as a pair of soft grey kittens instantly leapt onto his hand and tried to nibble on his fingers. They were adorable and fluffy and squishy.
"Fuck, you guys are adorable," Bambam mumbled.
"Will you donate to our animal shelter?" the kid asked hopefully.
Bambam hesitated, one kitten still nibbling harmlessly on his finger. "Uh… I'm sorry, kid. I don't really have any money on me right now."
The kid nodded sadly.. "That's okay. We're just trying to take care of the kittens because we're not sure if we can find them new homes by Christmas and nobody wants to adopt them right now."
"Really?"
"Yeah…"
"Well, damn."
-------------------------------------------------
Less than four hours after you'd first spotted the raffle ticket stall, you came across Bambam once more.
He was sitting gloomily on the curb with a box of kittens in his lap.
You wanted, so badly, to just simply past this man without stopping to ask him what he was doing, but your curiosity wouldn't let you do that. Despite not particularly liking Bambam, you had to admit that he was one of the most unpredictable and unique people that you’d ever met.
Ah, fuck.
You just had to ask.
“What are you doing with those?” you asked.
Bambam looked up at you, eyes wide and plump lips falling open for a moment. Then he collected himself and cleared his throat. “These?” he asked, gesturing towards the kittens.
“Yes, those.”
“I… may have adopted them?”
You stared at him. He didn’t offer any more information and you started to wonder if perhaps Bambam was really all right in the head. You took a deep breath and decided that your curiosity was unhealthy. Why did you care so much about the weird guy you’d been on a date with one time? You needed to find something else to think about.
You went back to the market the next day to get some presents for your nieces and nephews and inevitably, the path to the wooden toy-shop required you to walk past Bambam’s raffle stall.
It was closed.
Why was it closed? It was a Sunday, shouldn’t Bambam know that Sundays were the days when most people came to the market? It was also a great day for his target audience- gullible and helpless little kids who were either convinced they would win an iphone or thought they were rescuing the helpless cats.
But Bambam wasn’t there.
“So, uh… how come the raffle stall is closed?” you asked Jaebum casually. He was extremely busy working on something that looked like a dollhouse and he barely looked up at you. The man was the exact opposite of Bambam, you noted. Passionate and dedicated to his craft.
“The raffle stall?” Jaebum asked absent-mindedly. “No clue. Why?”
You bit your lip. “No reason.”
He finally tore his eyes away from the dollhouse and turned to you with a more friendly smile. “Hey, so I think I’m going to need until tomorrow to complete your order. There’s still some finishing touches that I need to give the toys although I can show you what they look like so far-”
“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Great, thanks.”
You left the wooden toy-shop and strolled down the market street, looking at all the pretty shops and stalls that were bursting with life during the winter season.
And then there was the clumsy, deserted raffle ticket stall.
A small group of kids walked up to the stall, noticed that it was shut and sadly walked away. You frowned.
The raffle ticket stall was conspicuously shut while you went to buy some chocolates from Jackson and some pretty handmade Christmas cards for your family and friends. By the time you finally reached the wooden toy stall to pick up the toys you had ordered, you couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Where is Bambam?” you demanded as Jaebum packed up your toys for you.
Jaebum blinked. “I don’t know. Maybe you can ask Yugyeom.”
“Is he here?”
“Sure. Hold on. Yugyeom! Come out here for a second!” Jaebum yelled. A tall, broad-shouldered young man emerged from the back with a friendly smile. “Do you know where Bambam is? People have been wondering why his raffle ticket stall is shut.”
Yugyeom blinked. “Oh, him? He’s too busy with the kittens.”
“Kittens?” you demanded.
“Yeah. He adopted them from the shelter but it turns out that they were sick. All of them. He’s been running over to the veterinary center at the hospital for the last two days. I guess they don’t have many vets on duty since it’s the holiday season so he keeps making appointments to meet different doctors.”
“Oh.”
“It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have adopted a whole litter of kittens at once. But what can you do? Bambam’s not the type to give up on anyone.”
You raised your eyebrows. “You mean he has redeeming qualities too?”
Yugyeom folded his arms across his chest and frowned at you. “Look. I’m only telling you this because he likes you. Bambam had a difficult childhood growing up and maybe life taught him to love money more than his pride. But he also knows what it’s like to suffer. Bambam always helps people in distress, and he never gives up on them.”
Your throat felt dry. “Oh.”
He grabbed the bag with the toys you had ordered and handed them to you. “Will you be needing anything else?”
“Uh, no.”
“Great. Thanks for your business. Merry Christmas.”
You walked into the hospital the next day to see one of the receptionists waiting for you nervously.
“Oh great, you’re here!” she greeted.
You blinked. “Is everything okay?”
“This guy brought in a box of kittens. They’re suffering from a genetic disease and they’re not likely to live long; we’ve already had two other doctors look at them but he keeps asking to see a different doctor every day because he doesn’t believe them. I told him that you’re the best we have and that if you couldn’t do something then nobody could. Can you take a look at them?”
You bit your lip. “A box of kittens, you say?”
“Yeah.”
That sounded familiar.
“... Send him in.”
You were not surprised when five minutes later, Bambam entered your office with a small carrier full of grey, fluffy kittens. He looked both surprised and relieved to see you. He plopped down into the chair opposite your desk and gave you a sheepish smile.
“Hi,” he greeted. “I thought the next vet they sent me to would be you. Apparently you’re the best.”
“I’m pretty sure my colleagues’ diagnosis was accurate, Bambam.”
“No, don’t say that!” he insisted desperately. “I’m sure there’s something that can be done. It’s okay. I don’t care how much money it costs. I just couldn’t stand it if anything happened to these kittens. I took responsibility for these little guys when I adopted them and I’m going to see it through to the end.”
You sighed.
“I hear blood tests and scans were done? Let me pull up the reports.”
“Okay.”
You pulled up the reports on your computer and instantly noticed the problem. It was evident from the reports that the entire litter of kittens suffered from a genetic illness; one that veterinary sciences had yet to find a cure for and one that would ensure that these kittens lived a short and painful life. Your face fell and consequently, so did Bambam’s.
“Bambam….”
“Please don’t say there’s nothing you can do,” he pleaded.
You couldn’t help it. You felt bad for him. The man had clearly formed an attachment to these kittens and he was clutching the carrier tightly as he looked at you with wide, horrified eyes. You hadn’t imagined that the cool, classy and suave Bambam would have such a soft corner for such a helpless group of kittens.
“Bambam, I’m sorry. I think all we can do is make it so they don’t go through any pain.”
“Fuck.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well that’s a shitty-ass way to start the holiday season, isn’t it? Isn’t there some treatment? Surgery or something? It’s okay even if it costs a lot-”
“It’s not something you can solve with money, Bambam. Veterinary science hasn’t found a cure for genetic diseases like this yet. You could put them in some kind of experimental treatment but it would only prolong the pain and the chances of finding a cure are next to nothing.”
Bambam blinked at you. “Right.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. I’m an idiot for thinking I could help them, I just…” his eyes were shining with the hint of tears and he cleared his throat. “I guess I don’t know what I would have done with them even if they had been healthy. I don’t have enough room at home for eight more cats. I just didn’t think they should be alone at the shelter over Christmas.”
“That’s… kind of you.”
“Nah, it’s hypocritical of me, maybe I just wanted to feel like I was doing something good to make up for all the shit I do.”
You bit your lip. “Hmm.”
“So can I just…” he cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “I’m sure the hospital has ways to um… I don’t think I could do it myself, you know?”
“How about you keep them with you over Christmas?”
Bambam blinked. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You can give them a warm home and keep them comfortable for the holidays. And then afterwards you can drop them off at the hospital and um, we’ll find a way to make it painless for them. I promise,” you suggested.
“Okay. That… that sounds nice.”
“Great.”
“Thanks for your help,” he muttered. He stood up to leave, picking up the carrier full of mewling kittens and walking towards the door. Your throat felt tight as you watched him walk away and you couldn’t control yourself from calling.
“Bambam?”
He turned. “Yeah?”
“Are you going to re-open the raffle ticket stall?”
His lips curled into a pained smile. “Ah. That. I don’t know if I can. I spent all the money I made so far on the medical tests and scans for these little guys. I don’t think I can afford to keep it running. I’ll have to find some way to make some money and refund people who bought tickets.”
You sighed and folded your arms across your chest. “I’ll get the hospital to waive the fees for you on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You reopen the raffle ticket stall. And this time you really give your proceeds to an animal abuse charity, instead of conning people into thinking that you will.”
Bambam bit his lip and then gave you a small smile. “Yeah, okay.”
It was late evening when you walked past the stalls at the Christmas Market. Being a vet, you’d had to work through most of the holidays but you’d managed to escape early just on Christmas Eve in time to make it to the market before it closed.
Bambam was just closing up.
“Hey,” you greeted him lightly. “Am I too late to buy some raffle tickets?”
Bambam’s eyes widened cheerfully when he saw you, and he waved a gloved hand in greeting. His neck was cushioned in a fancy scarf.
“Hi! I didn’t expect to see you here! Of course you can buy some raffle tickets. How many do you want?” he asked.
You shrugged. “Ten?”
“That’s a lot,” he smiled and reached down to rip the tickets out of his little book. “You sure you want to spend that much money here?”
“It’s for a good cause.”
“I guess it is,” he mused as he handed you a bunch of tickets and you gave him the cash in return. “You made it just in time. I was about to close up and go home to the kittens. They’ve become incredibly naughty. I don’t know how I’m going to let go of them.”
You smiled sadly. “Don’t get too attached.”
“I know,” he muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s okay. I think I’m coming to terms with it. Sometimes that’s how life is. The innocent are the ones to get hurt. But I’m glad I could give them a warm home for the holidays.”
“I’m glad too.”
Bambam nodded before he turned the lights off and closed the shutter of his stall. The street was emptying out; most people were headed towards the huge Christmas tree and the dazzling lights but you’d had a long day and planned to go home. You walked towards the exit with Bambam.
“Can I ask you something?” Bambam asked hesitantly.
“Sure.”
“I know… you dodn’t want to go out with me again after that first time,” Bambam explained with a nervous smile. “And that’s fine! I mean, that’s totally your choice. But… can I ask what went wrong during that date? Did we just not click? Did you not enjoy yourself? Or did I say something to upset you?”
You stared at him. “No. I had a great time during the date. It was a lot of fun.”
“Then what was it?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
He shook his head innocently. “I’ve been wondering what could have gone wrong but to be honest, I tried my best to make sure you enjoyed yourself. I figured you just didn’t like me.”
“Bambam. You made me pay for way more than my fair share of the meal. It was a really dick move to pull considering that we were at a really expensive restaurant. If I had known I would be paying for your food too, I would have chosen a cheaper place. The fact that you so coolly asked me to pay was a huge red flag!”
Bambam blinked at you in confusion. “What? But Jackson told me to!”
“Jackson?”
“I was going to pay for the date myself. But Jackson texted me right before the bill came saying that independent women like you were probably feminists and that I should treat you like an equal and that ask to split the bill in half so that you didn’t feel awkward about me paying.”
You stared at him. “Bambam.”
“What?”
“That’s a nice thought, but you ordered all the most expensive things on the menu and I had a salad and coke. Don’t you think going halfsies wasn’t a fair split?”
His cheeks flushed red and he quickly averted his eyes from you. “Okay, yeah. I see it now. I swear it didn’t even occur to me then. I was just following Jackson’s suggestions.”
“Jackson didn’t know what we ordered.”
“I guess not.”
“So you weren’t a gold-digger. You were just an idiot.”
Bambam chuckled awkwardly. “There’s a statement I can’t dispute. I was nervous about messing it up. I really liked you. I still do, I mean. Really like you. But I understand why you’re not interested in me so I won’t push it.”
You sighed and shoved your hands in your pockets. You couldn’t deny that you had seen a different side to Bambam. A more endearing and innocent side. A side that maybe, just maybe, made up for his faux pas at the restaurant and his failure of an attempt to defraud the general public by misappropriating the proceeds of his raffle tickets.
“Do you have any plans tonight?” you asked him.
“Nope. Just going home to watch the cats.”
“Can we pick up a bottle of wine and watch the cats together?” you suggested lightly. “It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t have anywhere else to be either.”
Bambam grinned. “Yeah. We could do that.”
“Then let’s do it.”
Bambam’s dark eyes were fixed on you as you both continued to walk, and you found your heart fluttering a little. He was a sweet guy; perhaps a little stupid, and perhaps his moral compass was a few degrees off, but deep down you had the feeling that Bambam was a nice guy.
“Hey,” he suddenly said with a grin. “How about this? How about I give the charity the exact amount of money you waived from the hospital fee, and keep the rest?”
“How about you keep nothing?” you retorted.
Bambam’s smile fell. “Ok, that’s an issue.”
“Why is that an issue?”
“I don’t have enough money to buy a nice bottle of wine.”
You sighed and resisted the urge to smack yourself in the forehead. “Fine. I’ll buy the fucking bottle of wine.”
Bambam pouted. “You don’t have to get mad, it was only an idea-”
“Here’s an idea. How about once we get to your apartment, we talk about finding you a nice, honest job that you can work at to make money?” you asked.
“Doesn’t sound like much fun,” he pointed out.
“What does sound like fun?”
“Being rich.”
You sighed. Maybe it would take some time getting used to Bambam.
You braced one hand against the door frame to steady yourself as you stood on the tip of your toes. The step stool beneath you got you closer, but not close enough.
“Would you be interested in giving me a hand?” You questioned, glancing to where Jinyoung leaned against the counter, looking like he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ. His hands were resting on the edge of the granite countertop and his long legs were crossed at the ankles. He’d taken semi-casual to mean brown dress shoes, navy blue slacks, and a white button up with two buttons undone at the top. He’d also taken “helping decorate” as supervising.
He laughed as he pushed off the counter.
“I was wondering when you’d give up.” He said, plucking the sprig of mistletoe from your fingers.
“And yet you didn’t offer help.”
“Normally, you reject my help,” he countered, hooking the mistletoe in the center of the garland, without the assistance of a step ladder.
“Well, that’s gonna change when we have this baby.” Your hand flew to your mouth as soon as you said it. “Oh my god.”
“What baby?” He asked, turning to face you again, his eyes were almost as wide as yours.
“The one that we’ll be having in like six months?” You offered, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth to chew it nervously. You couldn’t look him in the eyes so you settled for looking off to the side.
“We’re gonna have a baby? You’re pregnant?”
You nodded and he tugged you into a tight embrace.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He murmured into your hair as he placed soft kisses there.
“I was gonna wait until everyone was here to tell you. That way, everyone would find out together. You know Jackson wanted to be the first to know. That way they’d all be finding out together.”
“I’m glad you let it slip,” he chuckled, but his voice cracked a little and when you looked up at him, he was teary-eyed. “Imagine the shit they’d give me for crying.”
“I think they’d understand,” you laughed as he tried to rub the tears from his eyes.
“Oh, I’m sure, but it’s not gonna stop them.”
“Yeah, I hope one of them cries.”
“I love you,” he smiled, his hands falling to your waist to pull you into a kiss.
