Namjoon’s most likely least favourite holiday is Christmas.
Not because it is Christmas, no, just what he and his friends do on Christmas.
They have their normal Christmas, holiday dinner (Chinese food and maybe soju), holiday dessert (green tea ice cream with a shit ton of whipped cream), and presents.
Well, normal presents on Christmas Eve. Normal stockings on Christmas Day.
Christmas Eve-Eve (as Jeongguk has called it for years and years), is gag gift night. In which, you pick a name from the hat, and whoever you get, you have to get them a gag gift under a certain amount of money. This year, they made the limit 20,000 won. Last year, it had been 40,000 and boy, did a select few (read: Jimin and Taehyung) go completely overboard.
The goal is to give the best gag gift. There’s no prize afterwards except maybe some bragging rights. All the gifts are opened at once and they vote on the best gag gift.
The problem Namjoon has with it is that he always gets the worst gag gift. He’s pretty much won every gag gift night, but when everyone votes on the worst gift, it’s always the one in his hands. He doesn’t ever even use the gag gift he gets.
One year, Hoseok had gotten him pants. And they were nice at first until Namjoon unfolded them and it turned out they were those Hammertime pants and had the words “I’m A Super Freak!” plastered across the sides in giant gold lettering. Which A. Namjoon hates those kinds of pants and B. He doesn’t even know what song is being referenced.
Needless to say, he’s not excited for gag gift night this year.
“Everyone, it’s time,” Yoongi says, and points to the tree they (haphazardly) put up last minute. “Gag gift time. Go grab the one with your name on it and let’s get this started!”
Namjon trudges over and looks for his name, avoiding the present he bought. His victim this year had been Jeongguk, and this year may have possibly been his downfall. He hadn’t gotten a very good gag gift, so maybe someone else would win this year.
As everyone sits down with their gifts of different sizes, Namjoon eyes his. It’s a box, he’s guessing, and it’s pretty light, so it’s got to be clothing.
“Okay, one, two...three!” Seokjin counts up, and everyone rips open their gifts. There are mumbles of confusion and surprise as everyone flips their present this way and that, trying to figure out what it is or what it’s for.
“I’ll start, who the hell got me this?” Yoongi’s voice comes out, and they all look to see him holding a kid’s toy piano. “It’s only got five notes.” He huffs. “What’d you get, hyung?”
“I got...something,” Seokjin mumbles, still flipping his over. “I don’t know what it is.” Yoongi leans over before he starts laughing. “What?”
“It’s an eyelash kit,” he explains, and points at everything. “See, these are fake eyelashes.”
“And what’s this thing in the middle?” He points to the eyelash curler. “It looks like a weapon.”
“It curls your eyelashes- I’ll show you later. Who’s next?”
“That would be me,” Hoseok announces, and holds up a box. “Bright green hair dye. A colour I’ve never had and never plan to have.” He puts the box down hastily.
“I got this,” Taehyung shrugs, holding up a six-pack of girl’s boyshorts. “I don’t know how this is a gag gift, I’ll actually wear these.” There’s a silence.
“Who the hell,” Jimin’s voice comes through, “gave me creepers?” Jimin holds up a pair of shoes, platforms. “I’m going to kick everyone’s ass with these.”
There’s a longer silence, mostly because Namjoon’s just looking at his box. Well, more like into his box.
“Hyung, what’d you get?” Taehyung asks, and Namjoon looks up before he holds up what’s in the box.
“L-Lingerie?” he says, confused because what the hell. He doesn’t even get out another word as Jeongguk pulls up his present.
“Hey, Iron Man!” he smiles, and then unfolds the shirt. “An Iron Man...crop top.”
There’s an almost deafening silence in the room as everyone looks at Namjoon, who’s still holding up one of two pieces.
“Can we all just agree now,” Yoongi says, “that Namjoon’s is the best gag gift this year?” There’s a collective agreement in the room, and then a whoop of victory from Taehyung.
“Yes, I knew I was going to win this year!” he shouts, and Namjoon winces because, yeah, okay, of course, it was Taehyung.
“Where did you get that?” Seokjin asks, and Taehyung shrugs.
“There was a sale at Victoria’s Secret,” he replies.
“...What were you doing in Victoria’s Secret in the first place?” Jimin shoots, and Taehyung, without hesitating, lifts up his chin.
“I was buying myself stuff and decided to get the gag gift there because I knew for a fact that Namjoon-hyung would never wear lingerie in his life.”
There’s a long silence before Yoongi claps his hands.
“And I think the night’s over, goodnight, everyone,” he says before picking up his own toy piano and booking it out of the room, followed by everyone else. Leaving Namjoon to take himself and his own box of dumb shame to his side of the bedroom shared with Jeongguk.
He shoves the box underneath his bed and gets under the covers, covering his whole head. Seriously, what is with Taehyung and his antics? Yeah, he’s right in saying that Namjoon would never wear lingerie, but why make it a gag gift?
“Hey, hyung,” Jeongguk muffles from across the room.
“What?” Namjoon gives back his own muffled reply. He thinks for a brief moment that the younger’s going to ask about the lingerie, and he waits for the moment.
“It was you who got me the crop top, right?” Jeongguk says instead.
Namjoon buries himself more.
On Christmas Eve morning is when everyone reveals that they’ve actually bought real, tangible, useable, gifts, and they’re all set under the tree for later. There are fourty-two in total (Seokjin made sure everyone got someone something).
Both Taehyung and Jeongguk go out of the house for some sort of yearly Christmas date, Jimin goes to the dance studio, and Hoseok and Yoongi hide in Yoongi’s and Seokjin’s room to play on Seokjin’s game system because someone bought themselves a Christmas present without saying anything.
Which leaves Seokjin on the couch and Namjoon in his and Jeongguk’s room.
Namjoon lays in bed and stares at the ceiling for awhile and he isn’t sure why he isn’t getting up, but he has a sneaking suspicion it’s about that stupid gag gift he’d gotten from stupid Taehyung.
He reaches down and grabs the edge of the box and hoists it up, sitting up in bed.
The lingerie isn’t too risque, per se, but it’s definitely not Namjoon’s typical underclothes. Which usually consist of underwear, and...that’s it.
He hadn’t gotten a good look before, but now that he is looking, there’re two pieces to the set, both a mix of black and red. The first is a pair of underwear, but extra laced and thin on the ass.
The other piece is a tight top - not a laced bra, thank God - with spaghetti straps.
The first thing he actually notices is that it doesn’t necessarily look like it had been made for a woman. Actually, in Namjoon’s opinion, it looks like it’ll actually fit him.
Which makes him question, how the hell would Taehyung know his size for lingerie?
“The hell...,” Namjoon mutters to himself. He turns around the top three times, then the underwear about five times, then huffs.
They really look like they’ll fit him, and he’s so tantalisingly curious.
On one hand, he can lock the bathroom door and no one will ever have to know.
On the other hand, he has to live with the fact that he’s actually considering using Taehyung’s gag gift.
Curiosity, Namjoon, curiosity. His 148 IQ is too high to let a question be unanswered.
Before he knows it, he’s wadding up the pieces in his hands and heading towards the bathroom with determination (or maybe haste so he can get it over with), and quickly shuts the door and locks it as soon as he’s inside.
The first to go on is the underwear, which prove to be difficult to put on because, well, he has all that. But he manages, by some miracle, to tuck and pull everything up, and to his surprise, the fabric fits comfortably.
And maybe...looks nice?
Shut up, Namjoon.
He slips off his sleep shirt and holds up the top to the lingerie, putting it on. Then realises he’s put it on backwards and tries to maneuver it the correct way.
Once everything in on, he just...stares at himself.
“I don’t get it,” he says to no one, turning this way and that, trying to figure out the appeal. “Am I supposed to feel...pretty or something?” He adjusts the top once more and lifts his arms, trying to figure out if he’s supposed to pose or what. “I don’t...feel pretty?”
“Well, you look pretty, I think that’s what counts,” someone else says, and Namjoon almost gets whiplash with how fast he faces the door, and fucking Seokjin of all people is standing right there watching him. “I see you’re trying out Taehyung’s gag gift?”
“Hyung, Jesus fucking Christ!” Namjoon shrieks (yeah, he fucking shrieked) and goes for the door, but Seokjin holds it open. Namjoon dejectedly holds onto the frame and looks at the elder pleadingly. “Fucking... Don’t tell anyone.”
“What, that you like lingerie?” Seokjin chuckles, and Namjoon hits him on the arm. “Hey, that’s no way to treat your confidant.”
“I don’t like lingerie,” Namjoon grits out.
“Then why are you wearing it?”
“...I was curious what it looked like.” There’s a silence before Seokjin starts laughing.
“Well, it looks like lingerie, what else would it look like?” Namjoon gives him a pointed look and Seokjin’s expression turns more understanding. “Oh, I see. You wanted to know what it looked like on you.”
“...Yeah.” Seokjin steps back, holding the door open with one arm still (though Namjoon wouldn’t have closed the door anyways) and looks Namjoon over. “...What?”
“You look pretty good, actually,” Seokjin decides. “I mean, comfy-baggy is your go-to, but lace works. You should wear more.” Namjoon flushes and chuckles lightly and nervously.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right, hyung?” he says, and Seokjin shakes his head with the utmost sincerity.
“No, I mean that you look really good,” he repeats. “Lingerie works for you. You do know you can wear it for yourself, right? Not anyone else.” There’s a pause. “I won’t tell anyone you wore it, I promise.”
Namjoon breathes out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, hyung,” Namjoon says. “I’m just going to ta-”
Fuck, there’s always a catch.
“...If I ask you to wear it for me, I want you to do that.”
“H-Hyung, what the hell-”
Seokjin takes a step forward and smiles. But it’s much less of a nice smile, and more of a sinister, deadly smile.
“Dear God, please don’t pretend I’m that blind,” Seokjin coos as he adjusts the straps of the top without a warning. “You tiptoe around me like I don’t notice how much you’re in love with me.”
Shit, shit, shit, shit-
“Hyung, what are you-”
“No more games, okay? I’ll kick Yoongi out of the room and get you and that lingerie in my bed tonight. No questions asked, got it?”
There’s an authoritarian tone to Seokjin’s voice that Namjoon can’t deny, and with the elder staring at his eyes for an answer, he can’t help but nod.
“O-Okay, hyung,” he says quietly. Then Seokjin smiles his normal smile.
“And remember, Namjoon: Stop when you want to, okay?”
That’s the last thing Seokjin says before he leaves Namjoon alone in the bathroom sporting a face as red as the colour of his lingerie.
The strangest thing Namjoon thinks that’s happened today is that he’s not...scared of what could come tonight.
Presents at the end of the night had gone extremely well. Everyone got at least one thing they had wanted. And in everyone’s but Namjoon’s case, movie tickets for that night from Seokjin.
“You both don’t want to go?” Taehyung pouts as he ties on his shoes at the door. Namjoon shrugs and Seokjin sidles up behind, swinging an arm around his shoulders and making him tense up.
“We’re okay,” Seokjin smiles. “We’ve got other stuff in mind anyways. You kids have fun.”
Seokjin just continues smiling, tightening his grip around Namjoon’s shoulders. Namjoon shudders just a little bit.
He’s going to get absolutely wrecked.
Once Seokjin shuts the door behind Taehyung, Namjoon hears the subtle click of the lock as Seokjin turns to look at him.
“Now,” he hums, “how should I do this?”
Namjoon looks at his feet as Seokjin steps forward and walks around him in circles, looking him up and down curiously. He feels like he’s being observed, ogled.
Seokjin runs a hand from Namjoon’s shoulder down his arm, grabbing his wrist and raising the limb in the air as if testing it.
“Okay,” he finally says after a few more long moments. “Go get dressed for hyung. Come to my room when you’re ready.” A pause, “But don’t take too long.”
Namjoon flushes as he mutters a confirmation and shuffles down the hall into his and Jeongguk’s room, where the box sits in the middle of his bed, almost ominously. Next to it is a long white blouse, almost see-through. Almost on purpose.
Carefully, he strips and gets the lingerie on and then slips the blouse over his head, unused to the feeling of thin cloth.
He has a feeling, though, that the blouse won’t stay on for long.
The door to Seokjin and Yoongi’s room is closed shut, so tentatively, Namjoon knocks three times and waits for a response.
“Come in, baby,” Seokjin’s voice calls out, muffled behind wood and just a tad bit deeper and huskier than Namjoon’s ever heard. He slowly opens the door inwards and looks at his feet as he steps in, gulping down whatever fear and nerves he has left. “Look at hyung.”
He looks up and Seokjin’s standing at the foot of his own bed, clad in slacks and a loose button-up, top three buttons undone already. His hair’s a mess, but at a good way. A wrecked sort of way.
“Come sit, baby boy.” Seokjin moves aside and pats the bed, to which Namjoon shuffles and sits down, watching Seokjin shut the door, but not lock it. “I want to go over some rules, okay?”
Namjoon quickly nods, then utters an, “Okay, hyung,” because Seokjin’s gone to the closet.
“I assume you know what a sub and a dom are, don’t you?” Seokjin asks as he walks back towards Namjoon, sheet in hand, but Namjoon isn’t sure for what. Regardless, he nods. “How about we do that?”
“I-I-” Namjoon hums, and scratches at the tops of his knees with his blunt nails. “Hyung, I-I’ve never...”
“I know. That’s why I’m asking you.”
“...Maybe we could? Try it, I mean.” He pauses as he taps his foot on the floor. “Just the headspace part. And maybe a couple other things, but m-mostly just the headspace.” He hears Seokjin chuckle and run his fingers through the hair on Namjoon’s head, cooing.
“Baby knows what he’s talking about,” he praises. “I’m guessing you know the colour system.”
“Traffic lights,” Namjoon confirms, and Seokjin smiles with a hum.
He already feels a little light in the head, letting go of it all, goes even further when Seokjin runs fingers along his face, turning it again and again, inspecting.
“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing?” Seokjin comments, and Namjoon keeps still as a huff escapes his mouth. “Very pretty. I wonder why you thought you didn’t look pretty.”
“‘m not,” Namjoon replies quietly, then shuts his mouth because he hasn’t been told he can talk yet. Regardless, Seokjin hums and gets to eye-level with him. “Hyung...”
“You are,” he continues on, petting Namjoon’s hair. “You’re handsome and pretty. I think so. And isn’t that all you need?”
Namjoon wills himself to look up at Seokjin fully, and when he sees there’s not a single lie in his eyes, or a downturn in his smile, he has a feeling that, yes, all he really needs to know is that Seokjin thinks he’s pretty, and that’s all that matters.
“Yes, hyung,” he responds, and Seokjin pats his cheek assuringly.
“But, Joonie,” he says as he stands back up, and Namjoon follows his face, “as much as you look pretty now, I think you’d look a lot prettier on your knees. Don’t you think?”
Well, that was quick.
“M-My knees?” Namjoon repeats, unsure if he’d heard correctly, even though he’s sure he did.
“I want to see what those lips look like around my cock.”
The tone in which Seokjin says it is really what hits Namjoon. Seokjin could be talking about anything. Books, math, Yoongi’s most recent debacle with the coffee machine. It’s not what Seokjin says, it’s just how he says it.
Okay, maybe it’s a little what he says, too.
Namjoon shuffles himself to switch with Seokjin, kneeling at the foot of the bed while Seokjin sits down.
“Colour?” Seokjin asks, and Namjoon gulps.
“G-Green, hyung,” he answers dutifully, and his hands hover over the clip to his slacks. “Can I...”
“Go ahead, baby boy.”
Namjoon undoes the clasp, and waits for Seokjin to lift his hips so the material (he had actually gone boxerless, on purpose) can slide down long legs to his ankles.
Seokjin’s cock in his face, as much as Namjoon had imagined it, is a surprise. Long and thick, a little red, hair trimmed. Curved, too. Fuck, it looks good.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Seokjin urges, and Namjoon silently thanks his hyung’s patience. Not that he hasn’t had a cock in his mouth before, but because it’s Seokjin, and Seokjin is, for the most part, his everything, he wants to make it good. He wants to be good, just for Seokjin.
He gives a lick and Seokjin breathes out of his nose, waiting for Namjoon to work his way up. He teases, holding onto what isn’t in his mouth yet.
“Take your...time,” Seokjin hums above him, already struggling himself. “You look so beautiful like this, Joonie.”
“Hyung,” Namjoon muffles around him and Seokjin groans. The praise is starting to get to Namjoon and he’s wondering what else he can do to earn it. A hand goes through his hair and it’s encouragement for Namjoon to go further, to work until his gag prevents him from going further.
He doesn’t bob right away. Works himself to it. Tells himself that he needs to earn that by readying himself. Tells himself that if Seokjin’s nails start digging into his head, it means he’s doing a good job. That when Seokjin’s deep moans are in his ears when he does start bobbing his head, he’s definitely doing a good job.
“Oh, baby,” Seokjin sighs, hand carding through black hair. “You’re so fucking good.” Namjoon decides that’s a good time to whine and Seokjin tugs his hair.
“Hyung-” Namjoon hums at the feeling, and Seokjin lets go a little.
“You okay, baby?” he asks, letting go completely. “Joonie?” Namjoon works his way off and bites back the sting in his eyes. “What’s your colour?”
“Green, hyung,” he answers, hoarsely, and Seokjin sighs.
“You like when hyung plays with you, don’t you?” he ends up huffing out with a smirk, and Namjoon’s cheek go pink as he nods. “Like getting pushed around and getting your hair tugged.”
Even the thought of it makes Namjoon close his eyes and whine, and Seokjin hums as he takes hold of his hair and lightly drags his head to the side with a small pull. It’s just... freeing. Letting someone control him, almost completely. Telling him what to do and moving him as they please, but not to the point of complete loss of control.
Just letting go.
“Come up here,” Seokjin says, snapping him from his thoughts, and he stands up and sits where Seokjin had been. He’s pushed onto his back and Seokjin studies him for a moment. “I’ve been saving this present for last.”
Namjoon watches as Seokjin pulls the blouse, and Namjoon lifts his arms up so it can come off. The top had been seen through the material, but out in the open, he thinks it looks so much better. The blouse doesn’t cover the underwear anymore, either, which is pressing his cock harshly to one side, still hidden.
“Look at you,” Seokjin hums as his eyes drag over the lingerie, and then to Namjoon’s face. “My beautiful, handsome baby boy. Best present tonight.”
Namjoon closes his eyes, wondering if he’s going to stay wrapped in this lingerie for the rest of the night, or if Seokjin plans to fuck him with it on.
He hopes for the latter.
“Baby, look at me,” Seokjin says, and Namjoon wrenches his head to the direction of Seokjin’s voice, opening his eyes. “How do you feel about having your hands tied?”
Honestly, Namjoon’s never tried it. But imagining his hands above his head, or behind his back, even just sitting right in front of him, makes him just nod over and over again. Seokjin laughs and fiddles with the blouse.
“On your knees.”
Namjoon flips himself and his head is pressed into a soft pillow, hands behind his back. He feels soft hands take his own and push them together, mid-air, and he keeps them there as the soft cloth he'd seen earlier is wrapped around and between, semi-tight. He already feels the strain in his arms, but it’s different. It’s constricting, but it’s good.
He likes the control being taken away.
“Such a pretty ass,” Seokjin comments bluntly, and Namjoon hums into the pillow. “Would love to fuck it open. Wouldn’t you, baby? Have your ass fucked out?”
“Yes,” Namjoon hums, and belatedly adds, “hyung.”
“H-Hyung.” Seokjin sighs and lightly pats the side of it, his hand travelling to run across the outline of the underwear, then to the outline of Namjoon’s cock.
“Look at you. Already hard. So needy, baby.” He traces, again and again, like he’s trying to draw it, before he lifts the front of the underwear and Namjoon’s cock is pressed up and against his stomach, the lace keeping it there. “I want to fuck you with it on.”
He hoped right.
“P-Please, hyung,” Namjoon huffs in a whine, and Seokjin’s weight shifts on the bed. His underwear is pushed to one side, stretched across a cheek so his hole is exposed.
“Let’s prep you, hm?” Seokjin hums and Namjoon hears a snap of a bottle before something cold presses against his rim and he jumps. “Relax, baby. Or else hyung won’t be able to get you ready. And we don’t want that.”
Oh, no, we certainly don’t.
Seokjin works in the first finger, prodding up to his second knuckle, gently thrusting it. It’s just not enough, though, Namjoon thinks. He either needs more fingers or a cock.
Two fingers turn into three, curling and searching for his prostate.
“So good, baby,” Seokjin praises, his other hand holding Namjoon’s ass steady, palm fitted to the side of his left cheek. “So good-” He pauses when Seokjin curves his fingers and Namjoon turns his head to whine straight into the pillow. “Oh, there it is.”
Seokjin’s relentless, not giving up on the spot, and Namjoon fears if he doesn’t, he won’t be able to hold himself. In actuality, though, he has a feeling that’s what Seokjin’s hoping for.
His whines turn into moans and he struggles not to move his hips, moans turn breathy, and he’s just at his peak when Seokjin removes his fingers all at once and Namjoon chokes.
“Not yet, baby, don’t you want to come with my cock?” Seokjin teases, and as much as Namjoon would have loved to come, he’ll take edging if it means Seokjin will fuck him to his orgasm.
There’s a second click to the lube as Seokjin adjusts once more. Namjoon waits patiently, fingers stretching and fiddling with each other, just waiting.
“What’s your colour right now?” Seokjin asks.
“Green, hyung,” Namjoon mumbles into the pillow, cheek pressed and he’s actually drooling, mind going blank as he waits.
“Do I need a condom, baby?” The question throws Namjoon off, and he quickly mutters something that sounds like, “N-No.”
There’s an anticipation. A longing and a need, like he’s been waiting for years. But once Seokjin’s cock slides into him and pushes to the hilt, ass on hips, he feels full and wanted.
“Tight,” is all Seokjin utters as he grabs onto the cloth of Namjoon’s bound hands, pads of his fingers running across the skin of his wrists and the backs of his hands. “So tight, so good, baby. Such a good boy.”
“Hyung, p-please,” Namjoon whines into the pillow. Why won’t Seokjin just move?
The first thrust is slow, tentative, as are the next few. But they hit Namjoon in such a good spot, the right spot, that it wouldn’t even matter. Seokjin’s cock filling him up, the thought alone could make Namjoon come untouched.
“Baby boy,” Seokjin hums, and Namjoon moans as his thrusts pick up a steady pace, the sound of skin on skin, the feeling of the motion, everything. The praise, the binds, the words, the feeling.
Seokjin is his everything.
Namjoon already reaches close by the time Seokjin picks up the speed, his own voice hoarsely breathing with each, Namjoon’s bouncing with it.
“Hyung, hyung, I-I-” is all Namjoon can manage until Seokjin’s thrusts go sloppy and stutter to a pause as he feels come fill him up. He gives a few more, harsh, and Namjoon whines.
Namjoon cries into the pillow as he comes on the sheets below, cock still pressed between fabric and skin, untouched by everything but the lace, and Seokjin fucks him through it until he’s oversensitive and still crying.
“Ah, baby boy,” Seokjin huffs out as he pulls his cock out and runs a hand across Namjoon’s right cheek, then a thumb across his hole. “Such a good boy.”
Namjoon hums as he wiggles his fingers and Seokjin carefully undoes the tie and moves Namjoon’s arms to the bed, where he keeps Namjoon’s ass in the air.
“Wait here for hyung, okay?” Seokjin says, and Namjoon hums agreement, waiting until there’s something warm and wet against his ass. “You were such a good boy for hyung tonight, you know that? Did so well.”
“T-Thank you, hyung,” Namjoon manages as Seokjin wipes him down and cleans him out before tapping him on the arm.
“Sit up for me.” Namjoon does so and moves so his legs are out in front of him, then looks at the underwear and wiggles his toes. “Let’s get you out of those, hm?” Namjoon nods and Seokjin’s fingers pry the lace from his hips when he lifts them. His cock comes free as the underwear slides down and Namjoon sighs deeply, thankful that the constriction is gone. “The top, too?” Namjoon nods and Seokjin chuckles as he leans and folds the top over itself while Namjoon lifts his arms, sliding it off so Namjoon sits naked in the middle of the bed.
“Hyung,” Namjoon hums, and Seokjin hums his interest. “This was really nice.” He chuckles. “Best Christmas ever.”
“You think?” Seokjin chuckles as he slips his shirt off and sits next to Namjoon, carding fingers through his hair assuringly. “That Iron man crop top you got Jeongguk was a pretty lame gag gift.”
Namjoon shoves Seokjin and Seokjin laughs.
“Shut up, hyung,” Namjoon says. “D’you think he’ll even wear it?” Seokjin purses his lips.
“Well,” he hums, “you wore your gift.” Namjoon flushes and Seokjin smiles again. “I can give you a bath if you want. We can steal one of Yoongi’s Lush bath bombs.” Namjoon laughs as he nods.
“Okay, now it really is the best Christmas ever.”