Christmas with Park Hu-min was never subtle.

He had a big name, bigger reputation, and the biggest presence.

You knew that the moment he burst through the school gates wearing a ridiculous christmas sweater under his jacket and some red scarf around his neck, voice echoing across the courtyard. “Hey! You’re freezing, aren’t you?” He shouted, waving like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of hours. Heads turned. Hu-min didn’t care. He never did.

He slung an arm around your shoulders the second he reached you, laughing loud and easy. “C’mon, it’s Christmas. You can’t look that grumpy today.”

You told him you weren’t grumpy. He grinned wider. “Sure you aren’t.”

Snow crunched beneath your feet as you walked through the streets, Hu-min talking the entire time---about nothing and everything. He pointed out decorations, complained loudly about couples blocking the sidewalk, and argued with you over whether hot chocolate or tteokbokki was the superior winter food. He lost the argument and pretended not to care.

At the Christmas market, he dragged you from stall to stall, greeting people like he knew them. Vendors laughed when they saw him. “You again?” Someone said. Hu-min puffed up proudly. “I brought a special guest, though!”

You noticed how easily he fit into the noise, how he was the noise---bright, overwhelming, alive. But when he bought you a small paper ornament shaped like a star, he hesitated before handing it over.

“Ah-hem,” He cleared his throat to get your attention. “I just thought of you.” He smiled, wide.

But don't fool yourself, a few moments after a snowball hit you right in the back, and when you turned, he ran off to look at some other christmas merch like an overly excited kid. Guess who.

Later, you ended up at a playground dusted in snow, lights tangled around the swings. Hu-min climbed onto one without thinking, boots dragging lines in the ground. “You know,” He said, pushing off, “I used to hate days like this.”

You asked him why.

“Too much time to think,” He admitted, tone lighter than the words deserved. “Too many people pretending things were perfect.” He slowed, glancing at you. “But now? It’s not so bad.”

He hopped off and stood in front of you, hands shoved into his pockets, grin softer than usual. “Guess it helps when you’re not alone.”

Snowflakes caught in his hair. You brushed one away, and for once, Park Hu-min went quiet---not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he didn’t need to fill the silence.

“Merry Christmas,” He said, voice still loud, still warm, but honest.

When he pulled you into a side hug, squeezing a little too tight, you laughed---and he laughed louder.

And surrounded by lights, noise, and Hu-min’s unmistakable presence, Christmas felt exactly the way it should: messy, bright, and full.

"Yah--- Let's bake Christmas cookies when we get back home!" He loudly proposed when the two of you started to make your way back to somewhere warm. "...And we could watch something while eating them! Ye-yeah, wouldn't that be cool?" He added, talking, talking and talking more, because Park Hu-min---Baku---never keeps quiet. And maybe that was the best thing, at times.