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Lee Know had always been playful, but as December rolled around, he took it to a whole new level. You noticed it first in the dorm, a small sprig of mistletoe hanging innocently in the doorway to the kitchen. It was cute, you thought, and festive.
Then you saw another one in the hallway, right outside your room. It made you pause, but you didn't think much of it until you went to the living room and found yet another mistletoe dangling from the ceiling, right above the couch.
"Minho!" you called out, your voice half-laughing, half-exasperated as you turned around and spotted him leaning against the doorway with a smug grin on his face.
"Yes?" he responded, the picture of innocence.
"What's with all the mistletoes?" you asked, though the answer seemed pretty obvious at this point.
He shrugged, walking over to you with that signature confident stride. "Just trying to spread some holiday cheer."
"By hanging a mistletoe in every single room?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Exactly," he said, stopping in front of you. His eyes flicked up to the mistletoe hanging above you, and his grin widened. "Speaking of which..."
Before you could say anything, he leaned in and planted a quick, playful kiss on your cheek. Your face immediately warmed, and you rolled your eyes, though you couldn't suppress the smile tugging at your lips.
"That's the third one today," you teased, pushing him lightly.
"I'm just following tradition," he replied, feigning innocence as he stepped back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You wouldn't want to break tradition, would you?"
You shook your head, laughing as you walked past him, but you couldn't help the flutter in your chest. Minho had always been flirty, but this was something else entirely.
It didn't stop at the company, either. When you went to the studio later that day, you noticed another mistletoe hanging above the entrance. Chan glanced up as you entered, shooting you a knowing smile.
"Let me guess," you said, already dreading the answer. "Minho?"
"Who else?" Chan replied with a chuckle, shaking his head as he continued to work on his track.
You barely had time to take another step inside before Minho appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He looked up at the mistletoe, then back at you, his grin wide and mischievous.
"Well, well, well," he said, stepping closer. "Look where we are."
"Minho," you started, but he was already leaning in, this time brushing a kiss on your forehead. It was quick and light, but it sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless.
"Tradition," he reminded you with a wink before stepping back, leaving you flustered.
As the day went on, it became clear that Minho's mistletoe plan was much more elaborate than you'd originally thought. When you arrived at the practice room, you weren't even surprised to find yet another mistletoe hanging near the mirrors. The other members were already laughing when you walked in, clearly in on the joke.
"Minho's been busy," Han remarked, nudging you playfully as he pointed to the mistletoe.
"You could say that," you muttered, already bracing yourself as Minho sauntered over, that familiar glint in his eye.
"Can't escape tradition," he teased, and before you could even think of a retort, he leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. The members all hooted and cheered, but you were too caught up in the warmth spreading through you to care.
"Seriously, how many more of these do you have?" you asked, trying to sound annoyed, but the smile on your face gave you away.
"Enough," he replied cryptically, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
The rest of the week was much the same. Everywhere you went—whether it was the kitchen, the studio, the practice room, or even the hallway—there was a mistletoe waiting for you. And with every mistletoe came a kiss from Minho. Sometimes it was a quick peck on the cheek, other times a lingering kiss on your forehead. He was relentless, and you were completely powerless to stop the fluttering in your chest every time he kissed you.
Finally, one evening, after another day of Minho's relentless teasing, you found yourself cornered in the living room, with yet another mistletoe hanging above you. You looked up, exasperated but amused.
"Minho, enough with the mistletoe already!" you exclaimed, but he just smiled and stepped closer, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
"What? Don't like my kisses anymore?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.
"That's not it," you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze.
"Then what is it?" he pressed, his smile turning more genuine as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.
"It's just... this is a lot of mistletoes," you said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably as your heart pounded in your chest.
"Maybe I just needed an excuse," he admitted, his voice softening even more as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. "Or maybe I just really, really wanted to kiss you."
Your breath caught, and for a moment, you were frozen, caught between the teasing Minho you knew so well and this softer, more vulnerable side he was showing you. But when his lips finally met yours, it was like everything clicked into place. The kiss was gentle at first, just a soft brush of lips, but it quickly deepened as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Minho's hands slid to your waist, holding you against him as the kiss grew more urgent, more intense. It was as if all the teasing, all the mistletoes, had been leading up to this moment, and you were more than happy to give in. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady your racing hearts.
"Tradition," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips, and you couldn't help but laugh softly.
"Yeah, sure," you murmured back, smiling as you pressed another kiss to his lips, because really, who were you to argue with tradition?
