Jumin is disappointed that V is late to RFA’s Christmas party. Still, he waits up for him.
(Aka Santa V speedrunning Jumin’s disappointment.)
A/N: It’s almost Christmas and I’m super sad. Love that my sadness is so productive.
Words: 2.4k
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Jumin tapped his fingers around the mug of mulled wine, its warmth seeping into his palms. V said he would come to the Christmas party, but it was approaching midnight. Everyone was already fast asleep in Jumin’s guest rooms and V had yet to prove his existence.
It was tough to keep his hopes up for a friend whose favourite activity was to let him down. V could very well be breaking yet another promise. Jumin’s stomach curdled. Loving V was exhausting work where he tended to receive less than he gave.
Still, Jumin never stopped trying. It would yield a favourable outcome if he could just perfect his methods. Someday, V would realise he could lean on him, that Jumin was his friend and he would try his best not to cause Jumin any more pain.
Someday, V would care more.
With the mug in his hand, Jumin went over to the fairy lights that Zen and Luciel had strung around the Christmas tree, almost stumbling over a miniature train. He grazed the tiny light bulbs, yellow glow twinkling on his face, and suppressed the urge to plunge the room into darkness. Jumin was used to his living room unlit in the evening; it subdued the loneliness that hung around him like a ghost.
The others would be disappointed too if he cut short the spirit of Christmas for his comfort, and he didn’t fancy dealing with their complaints in the morning.
Jumin’s head perked up when he heard a shuffling behind the front door. Was it V? Had he come bearing gifts or another coal of bad news? Jumin felt a flush of pride at his ability to apply Christmas colloquialism to his thoughts. Yoosung’s effort in teaching him wasn’t wasted.
The door creaked open and a tall, gaunt silhouette stepped in with much caution. No bodyguard was accompanying him, so it could only mean one thing. Jumin’s shoulders dropped in relief and he assumed a very casual stride towards V.
“You’re late. The party is over.” Jumin crossed his arms.
V pulled down his scarf, huffing, and Jumin had to restrain himself from reacting to V’s sallow cheeks and sunken eyes. V was like a skittish cat; one wrong move would send him running. “I know, I’m sorry,” V said in a hurry. “I needed to take care of a few things.”
“Nothing is more important than your health. You won’t achieve anything if you don’t balance your effort with adequate rest.” Jumin took his coat and offered him a cup of hot chocolate that he had made in case V came.
V took the cup eagerly and smiled. “I’m not the only one still up at this hour.”
“I wonder who’s the cause of it.” Jumin sighed. “You came bearing presents.” His gaze flicked to the shopping bags lining V’s arm. “You should put them underneath the tree, the members will be delighted to know that you remember.”
V teetered in his position. He was about to form another apology but changed his mind when Jumin closed his eyes and shook his head. “All right.” V knelt on the floor and arranged the presents around the tree with care. “I wrapped one for each of them. There’s also one for Elizabeth the Third. Would you record their reaction for me when they open them tomorrow?”
Jumin halted in his step, his brief imagination of his white cat majestically scratching open the wrapping paper ruined. “You’re not staying?”
“I’m sorry.”
Jumin craned his neck towards the ceiling. He was tired of apologies and even more tired of the self-imposed expectation that he had to forgive V. But he knew he would. He always did.
V didn’t mean to hurt him. He had tried his best. At least he was here now.
“Don’t taint the holiday spirit with negativity,” said Jumin.
“I thought you don’t partake in celebrating holidays?” V looked up at him. “According to you, they’re commercialised occasions to earn more profit. You repeat this statement every year.”
Jumin let out a bitter chuckle and took a seat beside V. “You have always known me best.”
“I’m glad you’re not alone this year.”
A weight dropped on Jumin’s chest. He observed his loneliness with detachment as if it couldn’t claim him if he put enough distance between them. “Am I?” he murmured. Only he was to blame if V couldn’t read his mind.
V nodded towards the hall where the guest rooms were. “You have them. They are a good company to keep.”
“I suppose they are, but they’re not you.”
V squeezed his shoulder, then stared up at the mismatched decorations on the tree. It had no theme because everyone wanted different things, and it didn’t bother Jumin as long as he got to put Elizabeth the Third mascot on top. Zen had fought him on it with the power of exaggerated sneezes, but it was either that or calling off the party.
It was easy to win when you were the host with all the bargaining power.
V had a serene smile pasted on his face. “Do you remember the Christmas parties my father used to throw when we were children?”
“It was so tedious that we used to hide in the attic until your father threatened to throw away your action figures.” Jumin sipped his mulled wine. It was getting cold. A shame.
“So you stowed them away in your pockets for me.” V laughed. “You were already wearing a suit and a tie even then.”
“I could never influence you to wear it too.”
“I like breathable fabric,” V said. “My house was stifling enough.”
Understandable. V’s father utilised oppressive techniques to keep the family in line. Jumin used to feel powerless that he couldn’t protect V from him. It was a good thing that V managed to get himself out of there. “You’re meant to be free and explore the world. I’m not familiar with that feeling, but I know this photography career is the right choice for you.”
V was oddly silent.
Jumin looked over to see him fiddling with a stray ribbon that fell off the garland, tearing one strand loose at a time. His heart constricted. He could tell V was weighed down by something he was not allowed to help carry the burden for.
“Are you happy?” Jumin asked.
V glanced through his mint hair, not quite looking at Jumin. “I’m all right.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I will be.” V collected the ribbon threads and set them aside. “Don’t worry about me too much. I just have some matters to settle, then I’ll be more active for the organisation.”
Flickers of frustration nicked at Jumin. As with everything regarding V, Jumin’s feelings about him were complicated. He missed him, but it was often mixed with agitation and disappointment, yet he couldn’t let this connection go. He didn’t have anyone else. No one could understand him the way V did.
“I worry about you because you don’t reserve any for yourself. You haven’t been the same since Rika left—I know no one has, but you just... disappeared.” He looked down at the mug, itching to crush it with his fingers. “All of us are trying to keep this Christmas tradition alive. You don’t have to be here every day, but you should’ve upheld your duty as the RFA leader just for today. They needed you. I need you.”
V took the mug out of his hands. Jumin didn’t notice they were trembling. “I’m here now.”
Jumin never banned him from living his life, he merely wished he was a part of it.
V didn’t get it.
Jumin wanted his friend back, not a phantom masquerading in his stead. He wanted to laugh again, to commiserate about the olden times without agony stabbing at him because he couldn’t rewind the time. He wanted to relive the moments when V still walked Jumin through his bleakest days.
There must be something Jumin had done to deserve losing two friends when only one had died. He still got a dreadful, chilling sensation that spread through his body when he thought of Rika. Those he loved kept leaving him and he lacked the power to stop them.
Sometimes, he wondered if he should give in and follow them instead.
But he was responsible for Elizabeth the Third. He had to take care of her, and RFA wouldn’t function as well without him. All members played a pivotal role and Jumin was no exception. He was also the executive director of C&R and thousands of employees relied on him. His father would lose the one family member who actually cared about him.
He just couldn’t fail.
Jumin took a sharp inhale and handed V a present that Assistant Kang had helped him wrap. It was thanks to her that the edges were aligned to perfection. “You didn’t think I forgot your gift, did you?”
V lit up with a rare excitement that resembled one from his happier years. “Thank you, Jumin. I’ll open it later.”
It placated Jumin that V hadn’t lost his ability to be joyful. “You can open it now.” He nudged with his elbow.
V checked his watch and winced. “I’m afraid I can’t. I have a flight to catch.”
“But you just got here,” Jumin said in disbelief.
“I’m sorry. I really tried to arrive earlier.”
He should have tried harder, Jumin thought. But V’s eyes were downcast and his fingers were continually wringing themselves. He was anxious about something and it was likely to be significant.
Jumin shouldn’t hold V back from travelling to where he wanted to go. And if where he wanted to go during this holiday season was not where Jumin was, well, there was nothing he could do about it.
“I shall walk you out.” Jumin rose to his feet, his hand outstretched at V. He took it, and it shocked Jumin that V’s palm was scratched and more calloused than normal. “Did you hurt your hand?”
V jerked his hand away and stuffed it in his pocket. “Just a minor accident while taking a picture.”
Jumin didn’t believe him in the slightest, but he didn’t pry. “Please be careful.” He handed V his coat. “It’s not your time to die yet.”
“Are you a grim reaper now?” V’s voice took on a jesting tone.
Jumin wasn’t in the mood to humour him. “No one knows when death will come to find us, but right now is not yours. Now or the foreseeable future.”
“You tend to see too far ahead into the future.”
“Exactly,” Jumin said. “It’s my effort to preserve your life.”
They both lingered at the doorway. Barely 20 minutes had passed since V’s arrival. Before Rika’s death, the amount of time they allocated for talking didn’t affect how Jumin felt about V. It was different now. Even forever wouldn’t be enough to mend their splintering connection.
V was so far from him. Jumin couldn’t reach him anymore.
“Do you consider me your friend?” Jumin asked.
V’s teal eyes widened in surprise. “Why, of course. You’re my dearest friend in the world.”
Jumin clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders. “I’m always here when you need me. Keep that in mind.”
“I know.” V offered him a wan smile and clutched his gift tighter. “You are a much better friend than me.”
There was something in V’s voice that caused Jumin’s breath to catch. Somehow, it felt urgent to know that he would come back to him, that there would be a next time. This fear was irrational as all emotion-based actions were, but Jumin had to do something to keep V here. Something, anything. A last-ditch attempt to let V know he was wanted.
“Can you tell me when you will return? I’ll prepare a bottle of vintage wine for us to indulge in.” Jumin almost stumbled upon his words as he rushed them out.
“I can’t predict the future. I’m not the magician from your spellbook.” V chuckled, but it contained a sorrow that Jumin was sure he didn’t imagine hearing.
Jumin’s fists curled. “Just—come back. Don’t be gone for too long.” He had always waited for V, and they both knew he would wait forever. He could do that. Jumin was excellent in waiting. The misery from the sluggish passage of time was worth it so long as V remained alive.
V felt incredibly brittle. He had shrunk so much in so little time. Many times they had hugged, yet they were never enough. Nothing could reassure Jumin that V was fine when the facts were presented to him like this. Even his denial had a limit.
After a blink of hesitation, V pulled Jumin into his embrace. Jumin returned it and grabbed at the back of his coat, trying not to remember the times they used to hug farewell after their families had celebrated Christmas together. Those playful nudges beneath the poker face they donned, the pretences of being serious adults as they drank their grape juice, the secretive winks V threw at him in anticipation of sneaking off to the attic where no adults could fuss over them.
“I really must leave now.” V stood back in the hallway, the harsh lights making him seem more pallid than Jumin remembered. “Happy Christmas, Jumin.”
It took all his strength not to say it back. If he could postpone his wishes, V would not leave. He could stay back for one more second. Two. Three.
It was a childish wish. Santa Claus was a product of fiction and nobody could grant Jumin even a moment longer with his closest friend.
V had to go. He was always someone with a place to be, and Jumin was always someone who was left behind.
V entered the lift and the doors shut before him.
V nodded with a resigned smile and turned around. He knew Jumin couldn’t reply, so he didn’t push. V had seen right through him. Despite their sparse meetings and that Jumin was convinced he was losing him, some feelings could stay unspoken and V could hear them without trying.
“Happy Christmas, V,” whispered Jumin.
Footnotes:
I find Jumin’s character sad because despite not being treated well by V, he still thinks the world of him. He puts their friendship on a pedestal while V just continues to whack at the said pedestal.
I’ve never written about Jumin and V’s canon friendship where it’s the focus because I always wanted to plop them into an AU where they’re happy and fine, but no more. Time to make them suffer.
These songs were on rotation as I wrote: I Look in People’s Windows for the lonely winter vibe, Jolly Old St. Nicholas for the nostalgic vibe, and coney island especially the “disappointments close your eyes and it gets colder and colder” part.
I dont think thats how friends work V 🤨🤨 How did you feel that Jumin was going to do something romantic 🤨 did you experience it yourself before? 🤨🤨 sus....
If I had a nickel for every time I've read a JuminV fic where the author describes Jihyun's appearance in death as so at peace, like living was a burden finally lifted off his shoulders, I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot but it kills me every time because of how devastatingly fitting it is.
