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unpinguino · 1 year

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Os dejamos aquí la entrevista completa que nos hizo Iker Cortés para los medios del grupo Vocento. Ésta, en concreto, está sacada de El correo.

José Luis Moro

Músico y creativo publicitario

«El mundo se ha ahorrado un abogado malísimo»

«Soy un talibán de la rima consonante y no soporto las canciones de más de tres minutos y pico», afirma la voz nasal de Un Pingüino en mi Ascensor

José Luis Moro, en las oficinas de Pingüino Torreblanca. José Ramón Ladra

Iker Cortés

Madrid

Jueves, 20 de julio 2023

José Luis Moro (Madrid, 58 años) es uno de los responsables de Pingüino Torreblanca, una de las agencias de publicidad más creativas e interesantes de nuestro país, pero también es el alma y la nasal voz de Un Pingüino en mi Ascensor, la banda que facturó el disco más rentable de 1987 -solo se utilizó un teclado Yamaha para su producción- y que aún comparte con Mario Gil. «Me sorprende que haya gente que siga viniendo a los conciertos y que sigamos haciendo sold-outs en Madrid», afirma quien publicó su último álbum, 'Hace sol y es viernes', en diciembre del pasado año.

-¿Se ve más como el líder de Un Pingüino o como el responsable de Pingüino Torreblanca?

-Joder, es que soy bastante bipolar y me cuesta verme en una sola faceta. Para mí es un poco todo lo mismo. Es verdad que a menudo en mi vida profesional publicitaria mucha gente no me reconoce porque, de alguna manera, debo ponerme una fachada diferente a la musical. Pero, bueno, me veo como José Luis Moro, un tipo que hace diferentes actividades lúdicas en su vida.

-¿Cuándo empezó a interesarse por la música?

-Primero empecé como fan de los grupos a partir de los años 79 y 80, que fue cuando descubrí que existía una alternativa a la radiofórmula y a Los 40 Principales y pasé, de la noche a la mañana, de escuchar a José Luis Perales, que me sigue gustando, a escuchar a Alaska y los Pegamoides, Aviador Dro y a todos los grupos de aquella época que descubrí tanto en la radio, primero en Onda 2, que era la emisora que empezó a poner todos aquellos grupos, luego en Radio 3 y también en televisión con 'Popgrama'. Y luego, en paralelo a eso, en casa siempre hacíamos obras de teatro y musicales en Nochebuena y una de las cosas que hacíamos era cambiar las letras de las canciones. Primero empecé a cambiar las letras de las canciones de misa, porque yo iba a un colegio de Jesuitas, y luego ya me fui animando y empecé a poner letras diferentes a canciones variopintas. Recuerdo canciones de Eurovisión y de lo que empezaba a escuchar. Juntando aquellas dos cosas, llegó un momento en el que dije: «Yo quiero hacer canciones, yo quiero ser como esos grupos que me gustan tanto» y que cuando los empecé a ver en el escenario me gustaron más todavía. Yo había dado clases de acordeón, que era tradición en mi familia, pero no me gustaba nada. Tenía una querencia por los teclados y di clases de piano pero era malísimo, suspendí primero de solfeo… Y cuando tenía 14 años, mis padres me metieron en unas clases que hacía Yamaha y con eso aprendí que con tocar un poquito y un ritmo que ponía el teclado se podía hacer música.

-¿Había alguien con gen artístico en la familia?

-Gen artístico había porque mi abuelo por parte de madre era arquitecto, pero fue fotógrafo aficionado y pionero de la fotografía después de la Guerra Civil. Y mi madre siempre ha sido una persona muy creativa, que nos inculcó un poco la idea de que la creatividad era divertida. Luego de mis hermanos, sí tengo dos hermanas que una es fotógrafa (Sofía Moro) y otra que es pintora (Teresa Moro).

-¿Era buen estudiante?

-Sí, siempre he sido un tío bastante responsable, no se me dio mal. De hecho, terminé la carrera de Derecho en ICADE y luego tuve la suerte de encontrar otros caminos para evitar dedicarme al Derecho y el mundo se ha ahorrado una abogado malísimo.

«El día que convencí a mi padre para que me comprara un teclado me dijo: 'Que sepas que te lo compro porque sé que la música para ti es un hobby y nunca te vas a dedicar a esto'. Me siento un poco culpable»

-¿Qué tal se lo tomaron sus padres cuando descubrieron que lo de la música se convertía en algo serio?

-Bueno, hay un momento muy divertido. Teníamos un órgano de esos de mueble con el que no se podía hacer nada, así que insistí mucho a mi padre para que me comprara un teclado portátil. El día que lo convencí, me dijo: «Bueno, que sepas que esto te lo compro porque me he dado cuenta de que la música para ti es un hobby y nunca te vas a dedicar a esto». Me siento un poco culpable de los derroteros que luego cogió la cosa (ríe). Yo tenía entonces 16 o 17 años.

José Luis Moro, con su keytar. José Ramón Ladra

-¿Trataron de frenarlo?

-Es que como ya casi había acabado la carrera... El primer disco salió cuando estaba acabando cuarto de carrera, en el año 87, y el segundo, en el año 88, en mi último año, y fue cuando empezó un poco a eclosionar y empezaron a salirme cosas. Y luego, es que fue muy corto, porque en realidad yo me dediqué a la música en verano del año 88, y en septiembre del año 89 me tuve que ir a la mili, con lo cual, aquello interrumpió bastante todo, pero sí que hubo preocupación en mi casa porque les parecía que aquello no iba a ningún lado.

-¿Y por qué Derecho?

-Porque no se me ocurrió otra cosa. A mí me gustaba mucho la historia, pero aquello no iba a darme de comer. Mi padre era abogado y me entró un acceso de pragmatismo y decidí que era una cosa útil que hacer.

-¿O sea que es un tipo práctico?

-No demasiado, pero en ese momento por alguna razón pues decidí ser un poco responsable. En ningún momento se me ocurrió la posibilidad de estudiar Publicidad, porque la verdad es que luego es una cosa a la que me he dedicado y me habría encantado estudiarla, pero no se me ocurrió que eso existía en aquel momento.

-¿De dónde salió un nombre como el de Un Pingüino en mi Ascensor?

-No tiene una explicación. Yo quería un nombre que no fuera el mío propio porque bajo ningún concepto quería sonar a cantautor, que era una cosa detestable en aquella época, y quería un nombre que no se supiera muy bien lo que era porque en el fondo yo quería ser un grupo, pero no me había salido. Y al final salió Un pingüino en mi Ascensor, que en aquella época esos nombres poco peculiares se llevaban mucho. Yo estaba superenamorado del nombre, me parecía maravilloso, hasta que me inscribí en el concurso Pop Rock Villa de Madrid en el año 86. Todos los grupos que se habían inscrito tenían que ir al Ayuntamiento porque pasaban lista para ver quién se había presentado y en qué día te tocaba actuar y tal. Ibas al Ayuntamiento y estaba lleno de gente rara, de grupos de todo tipo, porque además no había categoría, y se cruzaban heavies, punkis… El caso es que salía un funcionario, un señor mayor con la lista, y empezaba a pasar lista. Y yo pensé ya verás cuando escuchen mi nombre y empezó a decir bandas como Falos Halógenos, Percebes Benz. Y pensé que mi nombre era una puta mierda (ríe).

José Ramón Ladra

-¿Se ha reconciliado con los cantautores?

-Bueno, nunca he sido muy de cantautor, salvo Javier Krahe, que es un ídolo, y algún personaje peculiar a los que no consideraría cantautores. Hay personajes como Tiny Tim, un canadiense que es un marciano. Hay un tío que descubrí hace poco que se llama Tom Lehrer, que era un matemático que en los años cuarenta tocaba ragtime y hacía canciones y además tuvo una carrera musical supercorta, porque luego decidió dejarlo. Y este tío tiene una canción se llama 'Envenenando palomas en el parque', y el tío canta que le gusta la primavera, porque es la época más feliz del año, porque puedo ir con mi novia a hacer lo que más nos gusta, que es envenenar a las palomas del parque. Es como un delirio.

-De familia acomodada, estudió en ICADE, pero sin embargo a Un Pingüino en mi Ascensor nunca se le metió en el terreno de los grupos pijos ¿o sí?

-Ha habido de todo, pero sí, sí. Alguien nos dijo una vez que éramos demasiado pijos para los indies y demasiado indies para los pijos y es una frase bastante certera, porque es verdad que en aquella época no llegábamos a sonar demasiado en Los 40 Principales, pero tampoco en Radio 3. Nadie sabía muy bien dónde ponernos, pero sí hubo cierta corriente que nos encajó en el mundo donde podían estar Hombres G o grupos de la época. Pero como siempre hemos sido un poco provocativos y disruptivos, pues tampoco acababan de entenderlo bien.

-En sus letras siempre ha estado muy presente el humor...

-A mí me abrió mucho la cabeza Alaska y los Pegamoides. Cuando yo descubrí 'Quiero ser un bote de Colón' recuerdo que mi sensación fue: «Joder, ¿se puede hacer una canción de esto?». Me pareció maravilloso porque yo hasta entonces había escuchado canciones más o menos convencionales. Lo más extraño que había escuchado, pues recuerdo que eran Javier Krahe, Joaquín Sabina, La Mandragora… Pero de repente aquello me abrió la cabeza, yo quería hacer cosas así, no me apetecía hacer canciones de amor y si las hacía no las iba a hacer de manera convencional porque eso no me divierte. Desde el principio hubo dos cosas que sí han sido mi tónica en la vida a la hora de componer y de escribir. Primero fue la rima consonante, que soy un poco obseso. A veces me la salto, aunque últimamente soy cada vez más talibán con ella y a veces me meto en líos grandes porque es imposible rimar y soy consciente que hay gente a la que le parece una estupidez. Y luego es verdad que no me gusta escribir sobre lo que escribe todo el mundo. Me gusta mucho contar historias, que no es una cosa muy usual en la música pop, porque al final necesitas mucho texto. Y tampoco me gustan las canciones largas. Me jode mucho. Cuando una canción pasa de tres minutos y pico y ya me siento un fracasado.

«A mí me abrió mucho la cabeza Alaska y los Pegamoides. Cuando yo descubrí 'Quiero ser un bote de Colón' recuerdo que mi sensación fue: 'Joder, ¿se puede hacer una canción de esto?'»

-El humor sigue siendo una asignatura pendiente en la música. Hay muy pocos grupos que lo incorporen en sus letras. Los Ganglios, Camellos, Carolina Durante...

-Bueno, hay una cosa que es una realidad y es que uno no triunfa dedicándose al humor. Hay una frase que dice alguien en un documental de los Sparks y es que el problema del humor es que nadie se lo toma en serio y eso es muy real. Pero en ningún área. No creo que lleguen a diez las comedias que han tenido un Oscar. Se considera siempre un arte menor, una cosa secundaria, y las canciones serias, el arte con mayúsculas, que es una cosa que detesto. Yo soy más de minúsculas. El humor se considera un divertimento, una cosa menor, el género chico. Nosotros hicimos una camiseta que ponía que éramos el género chico del pop. Es que a mí me encanta ese mundo. Hay una cosa que siempre cuento, que a mí me marca mucho la diferencia entre lo que es Un Pingüino en mi Ascensor y la música con mayúsculas: en la autobiografía de Los Beatles, Paul McCartney cuenta que cuando hizo 'Yesterday', le había salido una melodía en su cabeza, pero todo el rato le salía con una letra que era 'Scrambled eggs, Oh my baby, how I love your legs' que es algo así como 'Huevos revueltos, cómo me gustan tus piernas'. Y claro, él pensó que no lo podía hacer así que tardó muchísimo en rematar la canción porque esa letra no le valía hasta que encontró 'Yesterday'. Y yo siempre digo que habría dejado eso, me parece mucho mejor. Joder, es que 'Ayer' que es una puta mierda de letra. Pues esa es la gran diferencia. Con la letra de los huevos revueltos no habría ido a ningún lado y el tío le hizo una letra seria que a la gente le parece mucho mejor.

-¿Concibe la música sin humor?

-Pues hubo una época con el cuarto disco, 'La sangre y la televisión' (1990), me puse más serio y yo siempre digo que, a ver, no es el gran error porque al final uno en su carrera musical hace un poco lo que quiere, pero en aquel momento como que me encerré mucho en mí mismo y me entraron ganas de escribir cosas más serias y hay cuatro o cinco canciones que lo son y creo que no es lo que sé hacer. A partir de 'En la variedad está la diversión', que también tiene algunas canciones no diría oscuras pero sí más ininteligibles, retomé un poco lo que sabía hacer y ahí yo creo que me ayudó mucho la publicidad a entender un poco lo que soy como marca, qué es lo que tengo y qué es lo que realmente me hace diferente y, en el fondo, lo que me gusta. A partir del 'Piromanía' de 2004 sí que volví claramente al humor que es el mundo en el que me siento cómodo.

José Ramón Ladra

-Desde 'En la variedad está la diversión' hasta 'Piromanía' pasan once años. ¿Siguió componiendo todo ese tiempo o que pasó?

-Hubo una travesía del desierto, que fueron los noventa. El cuarto disco, que salió en los noventa, no tuvo mucho éxito, comprensiblemente. Llegó una minicrisis también a la industria porque estaba empezando a salir el CD y las compañías empezaron a ser un poco reticentes, cuando antes les parecía bien todo. Yo presenté un montón de canciones en Dro, que era la discográfica en la que yo estaba, y me dijeron que solo había una buena. Me cabreé mucho, pero con el tiempo me di cuenta que igual tenían razón (ríe). Pero en aquel momento me pareció indignante. El problema es que no te lo explicaban. Me habría encantado que alguien me hubiera dicho: «A ver, chaval, tú lo que haces bien es esto y estás yéndote por los Cerros de Úbeda, céntrate un poco». Pero nadie me dijo eso.

-¿Volvían a ser canciones serias?

-Había un poco de todo. Recuerdo que le pusieron notas, como en un examen, y solo había una MB, muy bien. Y en las otras 16, pues una tenía un bien. Si me lo llegan a explicar, pues igual tampoco la habría entendido, pero la habría agradecido. Es verdad que en los noventa, pues hubo una travesía del desierto. Todos los grupos que cantábamos en español, de repente, empezamos a parecer unos pringaos y unos perdedores. Se puso de moda a partir de Dover y Australian Blonde cantar en inglés y eso era lo que molaba. No venían a vernos ni mis hermanos ni la familia. Seguimos haciendo canciones, empezamos a hacer lo que llamamos la obra social, que recuperaba aquella tradición que yo tenía de cambiar la letra de las canciones. Nos hicimos un repertorio solo de eso, a ver si así triunfábamos, pero tampoco. Y en 1999 llegó un disco en directo, 'Pingüimatic', que fue un punto de inflexión. No tuvo demasiada repercusión, pero por lo que fuera, a partir de ese disco, sí que empezamos otra vez a sonar y volvió mucha gente que nos había escuchado en los ochenta.

«El humor se considera siempre un arte menor, una cosa secundaria, y las canciones serias, el arte con mayúsculas, que es una cosa que detesto»

-Hace unos años se animó a explicar en un vídeo cómo había grabado su primer álbum, el disco más rentable de 1987, un disco para el que solo usó un teclado, el Yamaha PSR-60, y que el año pasado cumplió 35 años. ¿Es un genio o tiene una jeta que se la pisa?

-Pues yo creo que tengo mucho morro. No sé si es una genialidad, yo creo que fue una puta casualidad. Yo quería montar un grupo porque yo quería ser como los grupos que me gustaban. Mis amigos del colegio, que más o menos sintonizaban conmigo y a los que les gustaban también esos grupos, al principio dijeron que sí, pero luego realmente no tenían las mismas ganas que yo de hacerlo, y finalmente dije, joder, pues mira, yo he aprendido a hacer canciones con esta tecnología rudimentaria, ¿por qué no? Pues sigo yo solo y ya está. Me pareció algo muy natural. Hice las canciones que podía hacer con la tecnología que podía y ya está, y aquello resultó diferente y nuevo.

-Luego vendría 'El balneario', y creo que este disco ya fue producido por Mario Gil. ¿Qué dirías que aportó su llegada, primero como productor y luego como segundo miembro de la banda?

-Me dio un mogollón de seguridad, porque el primer disco salió un poco por casualidad. Yo había enviado una maqueta a una emisora y Andrés Rodríguez, que ahora es el director de Forbes y de Esquire, tenía un programa musical en Onda Madrid, y a él fue a quien le gustó la maqueta, y habló con Dro y consiguió que grabara el primer disco. Pero se grabó un poco así, de cualquier manera. Servando Carballar me dijo que quería hacer el segundo disco bien y que se le habían ocurrido dos personas para producirlo, Ariel Roth y Mario Gil. No sé, qué habría salido con Ariel, pero yo era muy fan de Paraíso y La Mode y, claro, para mí Mario era un mito, así que le dije que con Mario. Nos conocimos, nos caímos muy bien, nos hicimos amigos realmente, y entonces me dio mucha seguridad, y me lo empecé a creer un poco. Si Mario Gil está produciendo este disco, igual es que esto sirve para algo. Y luego me hizo de asesor tecnológico y pasé de aquel Yamaha que tenía con ritmos, me sofistiqué un poco y empecé a utilizar cajas de ritmos, secuenciadores, empecé a aprender un poco a componer con todo aquello, y sí que me dio un poquito el paso a una pantalla superior. Al año siguiente le convencí de que se uniera al grupo y Un Pingüino en mi Ascensor es el único caso de la historia de un grupo de una persona que se convierte en un grupo de dos. Y la verdad es que me ha dado mucha estabilidad y nos conjugamos muy bien. Es verdad que yo llevo toda la parte de la composición de músicas y letras, pero él es el que convierte eso en algo más decente.

José Ramón Ladra

-De todos los discos de esa primera época, ¿cuál diría que es su preferido? ¿Cuáles son las canciones que más le gustan?

-Yo soy muy fan tanto del primero como del segundo. Creo que son los mejores de esa época. El primero es verdad que tiene ese punto rudimentario y naive, que tiene su gracia. Y el año pasado, cuando en el aniversario lo tocamos con el sonido original, pues me hizo mucha ilusión volver a recuperar aquello. Y el segundo, en realidad muchas de las canciones ya estaban compuestas cuando hice el primero, que fue una selección, otras ya salieron después. Creo que todas esas canciones representan muy bien lo que es Un Pingüino en mi Ascensor: 'El balneario', 'El sangriento final de Bobby Johnson', 'Camp', 'Perestroika'... Yo creo que ahí están un poco las canciones más representativas.

-Formó parte del final de La Movida.

-En realidad yo no me siento Movida porque cuando yo empecé a hacer canciones, La Movida ya estaba en sus estertores, aquello fue muy corto. A los que vivimos aquello, además, no nos gusta llamarlo La Movida, lo llamamos nueva ola madrileña. Y bueno, en realidad yo creo que en el año 85, que es el año en que yo hago el primer concierto para mis amigos, ya estaba muy de capa caída y ya estaba deshaciéndose. Entonces, yo creo que es más bien postmovida.

-Aquella fue una época de experimentación y de excesos. ¿Era Un Pingüino un sitio libre de sustancias?

-Yo en aquella época era súper sano. Bebía, pero las drogas las descubrí más tarde. En aquella época, no. Y fíjate que, por casualidad, Mario Gil, que sí que estuvo en el supermeollo de la movida, también es uno de los tíos más sanos que he conocido y por eso probablemente uno de los pocos supervivientes de la época. Yo era un espectador de todo aquello. Iba a los conciertos, tampoco estaba súper metido, entonces ni siquiera fui consciente de todo el nivel de droga que había ahí. Incluso en mi pandilla sí que algo había, pero yo era del grupo que no me interesaba aquello.

-¿Cuándo cree que se acabará el revival ochentero?

-No sé. (ríe). Hay un amigo mío que dice que el revival de los ochenta está durando más que los ochenta, que es una frase que me encanta. Debería haberse acabado hace mucho. A mí me sorprende realmente que siga todavía porque sí, fue una época muy divertida, pero creo que está bastante sobrevalorada. De hecho, hay cosas espantosas de esa época como la producción musical. Sonaba todo tan limpio… Yo creo que hay muchas canciones que son mejores de lo que parecen en el disco. Así que espero que ya se acabe. Aunque por otra parte, a mí me encanta todo este momento de grupos emergentes que me recuerdan mucho filosóficamente a aquella época con grupos como Carolina Durante, Ginebras, Camellos, Caravana o Jordana B. Me parece que hay muchos grupos que tienen, por lo menos a nivel actitud, mucho que ver con aquellas bandas. Espero que ya cojan el relevo y hagan lo que les salga de los huevos y nosotros nos quedemos un poco ya en el museo de cera, que es el lugar que nos corresponde.

«Hay un amigo mío que dice que el revival de los ochenta está durando más que los ochenta, que es una frase que me encanta. Debería haberse acabado hace mucho»

-¿Es nostálgico?

-Soy bastante poco nostálgico. Pienso bastante poco en el pasado y en el futuro, soy de vivir el presente.

-Hemos hablado antes de la travesía de los noventa. ¿En algún momento se planteó dejar la banda?

-No me planteé dejarlo, pero hubo años que hicimos un concierto o dos. Además, fue el momento en el que yo me metí en publicidad profesionalmente y Mario Gil en televisión, en la ambientación musical (tuvo mucha presencia en 'El informal'). Mario no tenía tiempo para absolutamente nada porque igual que fue un pionero de los sintetizadores en el pop, fue un pionero de los samplers en la ambientación musical en televisión. Era el único que hacía eso cuando empezó con 'El precio justo' y cambió radicalmente la forma de hacer las cosas y le llamaron de todos los programas de la tele del mundo. Y yo estaba intentando abrirme el camino en la publicidad y tampoco... Pero bueno, seguimos.

-¿Cómo fue su entrada en el mundo de la publicidad?

-Pues, a ver, hubo un momento en el que dije: «Me dedico a la música». La verdad es que ganaba pasta con los discos y con los derechos de autor y además yo era uno solo, no tenía que repartir. Pero después del cuarto disco, pues tuve la visión de que no iba a poder vivir de esto y tenía que buscar otra cosa. El derecho no me apetecía nada, no me veía en absoluto. En un principio pensé en la posibilidad de hacer música para publicidad, pero hablé con algún conocido que tenía en publicidad y me lo desaconsejaron, me dijeron que era muy complicado. Entonces pensé en dedicarme a la publicidad. Hice un cursito en el año 91, un curso bastante malo, pero que me abrió los ojos. Y luego tenía un contacto con la madre de un amigo de mi hermano pequeño que trabajaba en Contrapunto, una de las grandes agencias de la época y me dio la oportunidad de meterme de becario, sin tener idea de publicidad. Entré en el departamento de cuentas, que no es el departamento creativo, rápidamente me di cuenta de que yo era un inútil en aquella parte, y poco a poco empecé a hacer un pequeño portfolio de los anuncios que se me iban ocurriendo y al final me dieron la oportunidad de entrar en creación y desde el año 94, que fue cuando entré, me fue muy bien y muy rápido.

-¿Se parecen ambas facetas?

-Sí, sí, tienen muchas partes en común. Sobre todo tiene mucho común con la manera en la que yo concibo la música, que es contar historias. Al final la publicidad es contar historias. La diferencia básica es que en la música eres mucho más libre y puedes hacer lo que te dé la gana y la otra gran diferencia es que la publicidad intenta contentar a todo el mundo. Y en la música, tal como yo la veo, lo que me parece divertido es que haya mucha gente que odie lo que yo hago. Siento la música como provocación, siempre me ha gustado eso y siempre me ha gustado que haya mucha gente que diga que esto es una puta mierda porque creo que eso es una forma de sentir que lo que estás haciendo es diferente. Cuando gustas a todo el mundo, eso es un problema. La publicidad, aunque no vaya siempre a todo el mundo, está muy vigilada por muchas entidades y por mucha gente en las redes sociales que protesta por todo. Entonces la publicidad es mucho más complicada.

-¿Ha cambiado su forma de componer a lo largo de los años?

-No, no ha cambiado mucho. Es verdad que antes había una especie de recurso mental en el que me salían a la vez la música y la letra. Encontraba un verso y eso ya salía con la música. Ahora esto me pasa menos, o me pasa pero de repente descarto muchas veces esa primera melodía y me pongo a buscar otra. Y ahí trabajo mucho, como decían Los Beatles, en su forma de componer, que era coger sus canciones favoritas y cambiarlas tanto hasta que nadie las reconociera. Entonces tiro mucho de ese recurso.

-¿Le preocupa que sus canciones, al hablar de momentos concretos como el asalto al Capitolio o el detergente Camp, queden anticuadas en el tiempo?

-De hecho siempre he tratado de huir un poco de lo coyuntural. Incluso la de Manuel Luque, era una cosa tan peculiar que no lo considero coyuntural. Es verdad que en el último disco el 'Asalto del Capitolio' es un caso clarísimo u otra que utiliza la terminología de la pandemia, pero casi siempre procuro huir un poco de eso. Recuerdo cuando hicimos la versión de Bonie M de 'Rasputin', llamada 'Urdangarin', que sí que era una cosa bastante coyuntural y que además, joder, casi me meto en un lío. La estrené en Clamores para la gente que había ahí y no sé cómo llegó a los medios, me llamaron de Telecinco y yo dije no, yo no quiero salir a ningún lado, de verdad.

-¿Cómo ha cambiado la industria en todo este tiempo?

-Ha cambiado totalmente. Han cambiado los actores, sobre todo. Antes el poder lo tenía la discográfica y la radiofórmula, tenías que sonar en Los 40 Principales y en la radiofórmula si querías llegar a algún sitio y vender discos y necesitabas captar la atención de una discográfica, porque era la única forma de sacar música. Ahora la radio ya no tiene la potencia que tenía, ni mucho menos. Las discográficas, tampoco. Y hay una cosa buena, que se ha democratizado muchísimo, hacer un disco ahora es muy barato, lo puede hacer casi cualquiera. Teóricamente, que lo escuche todo el mundo está también democratizado, luego no es así. Hay otra radiofórmula que es YouTube o la red social que sea, y necesitas entrar ahí, conocer, tener medios para que eso funcione. Pero de alguna manera sí que creo que hay algo que es mejor, sobre todo la parte del abaratamiento de costes de hacer un disco y hacer música y eso me parece maravilloso.

-A la hora de escribir, ¿se autocensura mucho?

-Yo bastante poco. Lo dice siempre Joaquín Niki, que se metían con ellos por cosas como la versión que hicieron de 'I only want to be with you' con 'No vuelvo a ir a Benidorm', y que en cambio nosotros llevamos toda la vida cantando burradas y nadie nos dice nada. Hay alguna cosa del pasado que ya no toco porque me parece que la gente no lo va a entender.

-¿Como qué?

-Tenemos una versión del 'I Wanna Be Sedated' de los Ramones, que es 'Yo secuestré a Natacha', que cuenta la historia de aquella niña que secuestró un señor en Alemania. Para mí es una coña, pero es verdad que hay gente a la que igual le parece que hay cosas sobre las que no se debe bromear, y yo a veces me controlo con eso. Por otra parte, siempre digo lo mismo, que tengo la suerte de ser bastante underground, entonces como mis canciones tampoco trascienden tanto, pues a nadie le merece la pena demandarme ni denunciarme.

«Tengo la suerte de ser bastante underground, entonces como mis canciones tampoco trascienden tanto, pues a nadie le merece la pena demandarme ni denunciarme»

-¿Y alguna vez se han planteado no tocar 'Atrapados en el ascensor'?

-Pues alguna vez nos lo hemos planteado, pero al final no deja de ser un hit. Yo estoy supertranquilo con que realmente creo que lo que hay es un problema con la interpretación literal de las canciones. Hay muchas canciones que en realidad no van de lo que supuestamente van. En el último disco hay una canción que se llama 'Los malos te gustan más', que es una supuesta canción de amor, que habla un poco de una tía que se va con los malos porque le gustan más la gente. Y en realidad mi intención no era hacer una canción de amor, era una canción sobre la vida. Yo creo que la fascinación que ejerce el mal sobre todo el mundo es muy grande. Hay mucha gente que en los negocios o en la política al final elige al cabrón porque de alguna manera siente una atracción por aquello, piensa que le va a proteger mejor. Y con 'Atrapados en el ascensor' pasa un poco lo mismo. Hay muchas canciones mías que no van de lo que supuestamente van y hablan de una cosa un poco más aburrida, que me parecía más interesante convertirlo en canción romántica o lo que fuera.

-¿Hemos perdido un poco la capacidad de reírnos de todo?

-Absolutamente. Cuando te hablo de la provocación, yo me enamoré del pop por lo provocativo que era porque me parecía muy divertido esos grupos que salían ahí… Los primeros Gabinete Caligari salían vestidos de nazis. Ese tipo de cosas que no eran en serio, era simplemente para que la gente se mosqueara y la gente no se mosqueaba. Era un juego. Yo creo que eso se ha perdido. Ahora todo el mundo se toma todo en serio, o no todo el mundo, pero sí que hay una serie de gente que se indigna por cualquier cosa y frena muchas cosas que son divertidas, que no pretenden ofender a nadie. Simplemente es un pequeño juego y eso es una pena. Pero bueno, es así.

«Yo me enamoré del pop por lo provocativo que era y eso se ha perdido»

-¿Qué opina de esas reflexiones que lanzan Almodóvar o Bosé acerca de que ahora tenemos menos libertad que antes?

-Es que con la gente que es muy mainstream lo entiendo porque está supervigilada y a la mínima que dice algo, hay siempre alguien que se ofende. Así que sí que hay una parte de verdad en todo eso. Pero bueno, es el impuesto a pagar por la fama. Yo tengo la suerte de no ser demasiado famoso, pago menos impuestos.

-Asegura que ya no meterá la palabra 'nena' en sus canciones. ¿Una nueva era de Un Pingüino comienza?

-(Ríe). Es que eso es algo en lo que caí en la cuenta de repente. ¿Por qué digo tantas veces nena? Es una especie de gimmick de la época. Decía en el vídeo que es porque escuché mucho a Loquillo, pero bueno, no solo a Loquillo. La palabra nena era muy recurrente en el pop de los ochenta. De alguna manera la interioricé y con el tiempo me la he quitado porque esto no tiene ningún sentido. Es un comodín para la rima interesante, pero me la he quitado.

-En su día, cargaba mucho contra la publicidad de Pascual y campañas como las del primo de Zumosol. ¿Le granjeó algún problema?

-Fue hace muchísimo y la publicidad de Pascual ha cambiado, ahora es mucho mejor que antes. Antes es que era lamentable, eran publirreportajes. Ahora te diría que Pascual es un ejemplo a seguir. En aquella época, se lo merecía.

-¿Cuántos hijos tiene?

-Tengo tres de 29, 25 y 16 años.

-Decía en 'Pingüimatic', su disco en directo, que sus hijos le querían mucho porque siempre prefiere ver un episodio de 'El Coyote y el Correcaminos' antes que un partido de fútbol. ¿Le ha traicionado alguno y le ha salido futbolero?

-El mediano es superfutbolero y no se de dónde lo ha sacado, pero son crisis y aprendes a lidiar con ellas. El día que mi hija mayor me pidió un vestido de sevillanas para mí fue un trauma. Y el pequeño es el más parecido a mí.

-¿Alguno ha sacado la vena musical?

-No. La verdad es que en casa he puesto muy poco mis canciones. Hay una anécdota que cuento siempre. Hicimos un viaje cuando mi hijo pequeño tenía ocho años, acabábamos de actuar con Los Gandules, nos regalaron los discos e hicimos un viaje muy largo y fuimos poniendo Los Gandules porque a mi hijo le obsesionaban. Y cuando llevábamos dos días escuchando a Los Gandules sin parar, a mi mujer le salió del alma decir: «Oye, a ver, para oír esta mierda, oímos tus canciones» (ríe).

-¿Se imaginaba que el nasal pop iba a llegar tan lejos?

-Para nada (ríe). Yo me sigo sorprendiendo de que haya gente que siga viniendo a los conciertos, de que sigamos haciendo sold-outs en Madrid y de que pueda seguir grabando discos… Estoy encantado.

Temas

Bandas de Música

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joheun-saram · 4 years

Text

Christmas Under Wraps (ksj)

Summary- You always wanted to work in a small town, and when you finally got matched to a small hospital in Alaska for your one year sabbatical you never would’ve thought you’d be in a place where everyone believed Santa was real. Mass hysteria or magic? Only time will tell.

word count- 12k

pairing- nurse!Seokjin x doctor!Reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut

warnings- very bad puns, me having no knowledge of Alaska, cheating, shitty parents, mentions of the horrendous Mario movie, softdom!Jin, whiny!Jin, explicit sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), edging (kinda), multiple orgasms, too many references to Santa

a.n- Part of @suhdays Hallmark Holiday Collab! Please check other beautiful holiday pieces written by some amazing writers. Full disclosure, this fic took me more than a month to write, mostly because I have only seen like three Christmas movies, and one of them was Die Hard and the other was Nightmare before Christmas, so please let me know what you think! Was this Christmasy enough for you?

s/o to the amazing @namyoongles for the banner! ily! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

“Mr Henderson, I really need you to watch your carbohydrate intake. Your blood sugar indicates pre-diabetes and with your history of angina, it really is important that you keep this in check. I’m going to need you to do a monthly fasting glucose check for the next three months so we see some results. Okay?”

You look over at the smiling overweight septuagenarian seated in front of you. Mr Henderson was one of your favourite patients, one of the few you knew well enough to remember even his grandchildren’s name. You loved that. Being a doctor in a busy hospital in Manhattan made making a lasting connection with a patient a rare occurrence, and although you were worried about his health, you were happy you the last appointment of your five years of residency was with someone you knew.

“Doc, I’m old. A little dessert never hurt anyone huh?” Mr Henderson joked, as he patted his stomach, the buttons of his shirts working hard to keep it together.

“I’m serious, Mr Henderson,” you speak sternly, looking up from your iPad screen at the man in front of you, just as your attending walks in through the door.

“Well, Mr Henderson you better listen to Dr. Y/L/N. She’s the best we’ve got and she will keep calling you in for appointments even if she isn’t here!” She adjusts her glasses, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, as the two delve into a conversation about her upcoming retirement. You were sad to see your mentor and friend retire, but if you were being honest, it was that fact that gave you the courage to make your big move.

Your colleagues and friends were shocked when you announced that you were moving to Alaska. You had always been the top of your program and had an assortment of top specialization programs to choose from. In fact, your father was the most shocked. He expected you to follow his footsteps and specialize in internal medicine from the prestigious program at John Hopkins. He had even spoken to one of his friends on the admission board to ensure your acceptance.

He almost choked on his dinner when you mentioned that you had accepted the family medicine specialization program in the small town of Elophtron in Alaska. He was livid, having never even heard of the town, let alone the program, deeming it unworthy of his 28 year old prodigy. But that’s the thing. You were twenty eight. There was no way you would let your father, or anyone for that matter, dictate what to do with your career.

The only person who seemed to support your decision was your long term boyfriend, Jiho, who seemed ecstatic at the news. He was the first person you told. You were nervous when you broke the news, the two of you had been a little distant the past few months, but your worries were assuaged when he pulled you in a tight hug excitedly telling you how proud he was of you. He knew how much you wanted to take a break from the city, and seeing his enthusiastic support made you confident you were making the right move.

Born and raised in New York City, the overcrowded bustle of the city thrummed through your veins. While you did pride yourself on being a true New Yorker, you would be lying if you said that you were happy here. It was easy to be lost here, to be forgotten amongst the millions of faces crossing the streets. As often as the city lights cheered you up, they also suffocated you.

The city was cold, a criss cross of concrete and beautiful glass towers housing lonely, selfish souls that didn’t mind tripping over the people sleeping in the streets. People here craved to be noticed, craved to live lavishly, and while you were born into what most craved, what you wanted was the solace of a town where everyone knew each other. A town where you could make lasting relationships that didn’t rely on your last name or where you graduated from. Elopthron, although a terribly sci-fi sounding town name, was your reprieve from the smog filled mundane.

The days leading up to your departure were full of excitement. You packed quickly, your closet surprisingly fitting into two bags that barely avoided the baggage limit. Your friends hosted a cute little going away party, full of champagne and promises to visit, while your parents hosted a cold dinner, full of lectures and judgement. As your flight landed in Juneau, your heart was beating with nerves. This specialization was at the town’s only hospital, the fact that all the town’s medical talent was under one roof had you excited to learn. Not only that, but the program stated that you would get the opportunity to run things and you couldn’t wait to put your leadership skills to the test again - you were the chief resident at your old hospital and you couldn’t say that the role didn’t suit you.

Collecting your bags, albeit with a little struggle, you reach the doors to the arrivals where the hospital had told you to meet the driver. That is another thing about this dream opportunity, they not only ensured you had a ride into town, but even provided you with your own apartment. To your shock, the driver you meet takes you not to a car but another plane, a small little thing that shakes with every gust of wind.

It makes you nervous, the shaking rattling your heart around your chest, but the view of the snow covered mountains takes your breath away. You were never one to swoon over nature, preferring your apartment to the hiking trips Jiho got excited about, but seeing the fresh untouched snow stirred something in you. It promised fresh starts and unchartered challenges, and that made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

The feeling didn’t subside even when you made yourself comfortable in your new apartment. The warm wooden finishing was a stark contrast to the metal of your home in Manhattan and as you started the fire before hanging your clothes in the small wardrobe in the corner of your room, you couldn’t stop the grin etching across your features. You were finally here.

The apartment was on the first floor of a two storey complex. It was much smaller than your expansive home, but instead of suffocating it felt cozy. The front door opened to a small hallway furnished simply with a cute oak shoe rack and a full length mirror. It led to an open concept kitchen and living room, separated by a breakfast island. The living room had a large fireplace, stack of wood next to it, and a large yellow couch opposite it. Furnishing was minimal, but your bedroom boasted a large queen sized bed, anchored on each side by matching nightstands and a wardrobe in the corner.

It was everything you didn’t know you craved as you settled in your bed for the night, noting to thank the hospital for even providing the bedding. As you stared at the wooden slats that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom, you felt comforted. It was unlike your home, where the high ceilings made you feel cold and alone, even when Jiho stayed over. Perhaps you needed this new beginning more than you thought.

The morning was not as serene however, as you somehow managed to turn off your alarm without waking up and were running half an hour behind schedule when you realised you didn’t have a coffee maker. Scrambling out into the cold early December weather you pulled your expensive but utterly useless coat around you as you followed your map app to the closest and seemingly only coffee shop on the one strip of shops the town boasted.

Checking the time to see you still had about half an hour till work started, you slowed down a little to take in the surroundings. Quaint did not cover how cute the small town was. The main strip was a large two way street with a row of little independently owned shops on either side with names such as Once Upon a Book, A Nick in Time, and Thorns and Roses. You didn’t know what these shops housed, although you could guess some, and you couldn’t wait to explore. The cutest thing about the shops was how festive everything looked, fairy lights strung everywhere, mistletoe and wreaths in every window. Like you had stepped into the Grinch’s nightmare, and it was barely October. This might possibly be the most fairytale like town you’d ever stepped foot into.

You easily located the small coffee shop, chuckling at the ostentatious pink board reading Bean There. It seemed more like an 70’s style diner than a coffee shop, filled with small vinyl tables, each with a small Christmas tree on it. Making your way to the counter, you ordered your usual, blond roast coffee with a splash of almond milk.

“Oh sorry hon. We only have normal coffee and cow’s milk,” the older woman standing behind the cash register answered with a jolly laugh, pouring coffee from a pot into a red to-go cup. Before you could say anything, she continued. “Besides, that’s some hippy stuff. We’ve been drinking cow’s milk for generations and our family has never been healthier! I swear these trends are killing the economy!”

And she talked, going on and on about the benefits of milk giving you no time to interrupt as she poured a copious amount of milk into your coffee making it resemble a latte. You were about to give up and forego the coffee this morning till someone behind you decided to speak up.

“Doris! What did we say about forcing the tourists to drink your farm’s milk?” You followed the deep, joyous voice to its owner, blinking a few times as you registered the tall, dark haired man behind you. Oh and what a man he was.

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a red flannel shirt under a fur-lined denim jacket, your eyes zeroed in on his broad shoulders. The instant attraction you felt to this stranger had heat rising up your neck. Emboldened by the fact that you would probably not see this stranger again, you let your eyes roam his body, biting your lip slightly, till your eyes met his, a small smirk on his lips. Clearing your throat you awkwardly stepped forward.

“It’s okay. No problem, Doris, was it?”

“No no. You want almond milk, you get almond milk! Doris I know for a fact you have it back there!” The stranger stops you from grabbing the drink on the counter, a hand held up.

“Seokjin! I see how it is! Just because a pretty girl wants almond milk, you share but not when Jeremy wanted to try it.” Doris huffs, straightening her bright yellow apron.

“Jeremy was drinking it as a dare, and I’d rather not waste one of the ten cartons that Dosey orders every month on stupidity.”

“Um… Really it’s fine! I’m going to be late for work so… thank you!” You try to escape. As much as your lactose intolerant gut was wincing at the thought of almond milk, you had spent way more time here than you planned.

“Wait, work? Hon you’re not a tourist at all! Where are you working?” It seemed you only made the conversation more interesting as Doris looked at you beaming.

“At the hospital?”

“You’re the new doctor? Oh my! Welcome Doc! We’re so excited to have you here! I suppose you’ll be seeing a lot of Seokjin then!” She slapped the stranger, Seokjin you suppose, on the shoulder as he stares at you with wide eyes before catching himself and clearing his throat.

“Doris! Will you just make the pretty doctor her drink then? Mine too please!” He leans on the counter and you can’t help but steal another glance at him. He really was oddly beautiful.

“Sure hon! Here you go!” Doris chuckled as she placed two coffees on the counter and you’re pleased to see yours looking exactly how you prefer. You take out your wallet before Seokjin stops you.

“Don’t worry about it. Put it on my tab Doris. Here, let me walk you to work.” He guides you out of the little cafe, a hand hovering near the small of your back.

“I’m sure you have better things to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’m going there myself.”

“Oh. Are you a resident?” You did not expect that. By his attire you assumed he worked some manual labour, and by his face you assumed he worked as a model. Somehow you couldn’t picture seeing this man living at a library like you had your years of schooling.

“Nope. Head nurse. So Doris is right, you’ll be seeing me a lot.” He grinned at you, his cheeks puffing up in a way that made you want to poke them. What was in the air in this town? You needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh nice to meet you then! I’m -”

“Dr. Y/L/N from New York, right?” Seokjin cut you off before you could finish, looking at you over the lip of his cup as he sipped his coffee, casually guiding you down the main street towards the hospital.

“Right… Seokjin?”

“Yup. Kim Seokjin. How are you liking our little town so far?” He seemed genuinely interested and you smiled. It felt oddly comfortable even if you had inklings of butterflies swarming your belly.

“I love it. It’s really beautiful!”

“Oh wow. Didn’t expect a New Yorker to like it here. You know it’s always cold, right?” he smirked, slowing down as you reached a cute little pink house, before stopping completely.

“I can handle the cold. Wait, this is the hospital?” You looked at the house. It looked more like something a grandma would reside in than a hospital. You were used to glass buildings and top of the art hospitals. As you entered, the door opened to a large waiting area with faded vinyl chairs and a reception desk. It was cozy, but you couldn't believe this was the only hospital in town.

“The one and only. The town’s going to be so excited to finally have a doctor

again!” His words made you sputter, almost choking on your coffee.

“What do you mean, finally? Where are the other doctors?”

“You’re it!” He grinned.

This was not according to plan. You were here to learn. Learn from people much more well-versed in medicine than you were. You did not expect to be the only doctor. Even if the town only had around 2,000 people, it was still outrageous that you would be the only person treating them, and in this small house. Does this place even have any imaging machines?!

As the day went on, your nerves only increased. Seokjin introduced you to the other people who worked at the hospital. There were only three others, two orderly, and another nurse. There were more people in your friend group of residents back home. This was scary, and as you laid in bed that night, all you wanted to do was talk to Jiho and get comforted. He didn't pick up, and you counted the slates on your ceiling to fall asleep, pushing your mind to rest no matter how alone you felt all of a sudden.

----------

Turns out you were not that alone. Within a month you had finally gotten into the groove of things. Your five-person team gelled together pretty fast, and soon you could anticipate each other's moves and even talk without words. Running a hospital, however, was not all you had cracked it up to be in your head. Although you didn't see too many patients daily, the paperwork kept you way past dinner most days. If it weren’t for Seokjin’s insistence to leave at the same time as you, you might as well had moved into your office.

All in all, it was nice. The town had welcomed you with open arms, and it was exactly what you were looking for when you left Manhattan - a place where everyone knew your name and not because of who your family was, where you could walk into a coffee shop and they'd know your order, where you knew your neighbours and attended extravagantly cheesy block parties. Elopthron had its quirks, how almost everyone here put way too much emphasis on Christmas, adults even going as far as pretending Santa Claus was real for the kids all the time. You weren’t kidding, one time a middle aged patient insisted on not ordering the brace he needed because he knew Santa would bring him one on Christmas. When you told Jenny, the other nurse, to do a psych evaluation, she just shook her head in amusement, thinking you were joking. “Of course Santa is real, Dr. Y/L/N. Here in Elophtron, Santa comes every Christmas with presents!” she had insisted, leaving you baffled. This town was absolutely bonkers, but it was starting to feel like home.

The only thing stopping you from feeling fully content was the fact that your parents were still icing you out and somehow regardless of being only four hours out of sync, Jiho and you had barely communicated this month. You would think you were being ghosted if it weren’t for his sporadic one liners.

You sighed as you looked over the budget for the month, the numbers somehow refusing to add up as you looked at your phone, the Instagram notification lighting it up. You could use a break, so you decide to scroll through your feed, only to stop abruptly at Jiho's new post.

Love my baby so much! Happy four months, beautiful.

It was a cute caption, if it weren't for the fact that you and Jiho had been dating for over four years, your anniversary was in March, and that he was kissing a stunning blond that you didn't recognize in the picture.

You looked at the picture again, closing the app and starting it again, just in case it was a glitch. Nope, apparently, Jiho had broken up with you and forgot to tell you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, but they weren't because of sadness. Oh no, you were furious. No wonder that fucker was so excited about your move.

You let out a huge groan, throwing your phone across the room, as you stood up and kicked your desk, tears now freely flowing. You couldn't believe the nerve. You hadn't expected this from him. In fact, much like a loser, you were expecting him to propose at Christmas. You thought back at how he had told you he loved you and called you beautiful, much like he was now professing to that new girl and it made your stomach twist. You wanted to break stuff. No, correction, you wanted to break his face.

You didn't realize you were rage pacing until Seokjin appeared in the doorframe, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing. In the past month, Seokjin had gotten surprisingly good at reading your moods. It was like he could see a slight change in your micro-expressions and be able to tell whether you need a coffee, a hug, or a walk. You were truly grateful for him, but at this moment you were afraid you were going to take out your anger on him so you tried to calm down. Stopping your pacing, you plastered a smile on your face.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Don't worry. Why are you still here?" Seokjin, however, didn't buy your flimsy excuse and pulled you in a hug. You felt yourself instantly calm. It was oddly intimate. He had hugged you before, but never like this. His arms were tight around your frame as your face met his chest, enveloping you in his vanilla scent. Your attraction to Seokjin had faded slowly over time, but right now as he tightened his grip around you in an effort to comfort you, your heart skipped a beat.

With your rage fast diminishing, all you had left was your heartbreak as you slowly started to cry in his chest. He didn't question you. His usually talkative personality, giving way to an understanding silence as he slowly rubbed your back.

When it seemed that you had calmed down, Seokjin pulled away, looking at you with concern. Without asking you for details, he suggested going on a drive. You accepted, knowing that if you just went home all you would do is wallow. You let him drive you to a burger joint, picking up your favorites, before getting back in his truck. The two of you drove for what seemed a long time, the food getting cold as soft pop music played in the background.

He never once pushed you to talk, letting you take in the trees lining the highway, as you watched the snow glittering in the moonlight on the banks. Finally, he stopped the truck, getting out before opening the door for you, taking your hand as you stepped down from the height.

The view blew you away. He had driven you to a field of sorts, getting the back of his truck ready with some blankets. But it wasn't the pine-lined field that took your breath away, it was the sky. Above you the navy hues of the night were alight in colour, pinks and greens blooming like waves in the sea. Stars prickled through occasionally as the weave of colours danced slowly, mesmerizing you. You don't know how long you stared at it in awe, but when you turned around, he was already sitting on the back of the truck, under a blanket, your food being taken out of bags.

He speaks for the first time when you settle next to him.

"You want to talk now?"

"I don't know." You shrug, rattling the ice in your cup as you swirl around your drink.

"It's okay if you don't want to. Just... do you need to go back?" He seemed hesitant, almost disappointed, as he asked. It was endearing how much he cared about the town not being left without a doctor.

"No. Definitely not." You said firmly, staring at the sky, missing the way he smiled at you in relief. The last thing you wanted to do right now was go back to Manhattan so your parents could tell you how you failed and accidentally run into Jiho and his blonde. Hoping to deflect the conversation, you looked at Seokjin, his cheeks puffed as he took a big bite of his burger. "Seokjin, can you tell me something about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" He says, sipping his drink.

"I don't know. Anything."

"Hmm... well I'm a nurse and I’m the most handsome man in the world." He laughed, clapping his hands slowly as if applauding his own wit. You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the smile that made its way to your lips.

"Oh my god, you dork! Tell me something real. Tell me a secret." You bumped him with your shoulder.

"If I tell you a secret, will you tell me what's wrong?" You hummed, eyes wide in anticipation as you munched on your cold fries. "Well. I secretly kind of hate this small-town life."

His answer shocked you. In the month you’ve known Seokjin, he has been this little town’s biggest fan. With the number of people who greet him, and routinely give him presents, you don’t doubt he could easily be elected mayor. In fact, the chief of police even suggested using him as the town’s mascot, for crying out loud.

“If you hate it why are you here?”

“Did you know I lived in San Francisco for ten years till last year?” You did not. You couldn’t imagine Seokjin amongst those tech snobs, nor could you imagine him in anything not flannel. “Yeah. I loved it. I worked at this amazing hospital and went out to all these clubs. I was kind of a party animal.” He chuckled, looking at his lap fondly as he picked at the blanket.

“Why come back?”

“Well… my family established this town. We were the first ones here and well I promised my dad when he died that I’d help continue the little traditions in this town.” He shrugged, his mouth a lopsided smile. “Promised him I’d raise my kids here. Family comes before fun.”

“That’s… wow. You must really respect your dad, enough to change your life for him,” you spoke softly, leaning into his lap a little to place your hand over his. “It must have been hard to lose him.”

“It was, but I hope I’m making him proud.” He gave you a genuine smile as he squeezed your hand, before tapping it. “Now enough about my emo self! Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

And so you did. You spent probably three hours out in the cold, before calling it a night. You told him about Jiho and how he broke your heart, and he related by telling you about his own ex that had broken their engagement when he suggested the relocation. Spending time with Seokjin was comfortable, it was easy. There was something about him that warms you up, like hot chocolate on a snowy night.

You hadn’t been that vulnerable around anyone in a while. Your life in New York was calculated, you never knew who you could trust, and so you trusted no one. It felt oddly freeing to be able to talk about your heartbreak and insecurities with Seokjin, and after that night under the aurora borealis, you both became closer. Before, you would only see each other at work, but since then you had been hanging out outside of work a lot. Sometimes the two of you would grab dinner at the local diner, or he would pick you up for working, grabbing coffee and flirting with Doris shamelessly for freebies. The more you spent time with Seokjin, the more you realized how different he was from what you had assumed.

When you first got to know Seokjin, you thought he was hardworking and amiable, but now you knew his dorky side. The side that would come up after a glass of wine, when he would start cracking lame dad jokes, clapping his hands, and laughing at himself. The side that got especially shy, ears turning a bright red, every time you complimented him on anything, be it his work ethic, or a nice new shirt he bought. The side that would go on and on about the Mario universe, regaling you with details about why Wario was misunderstood, or why the movie should only be watched when wasted otherwise it was a waste.

To be honest, you never knew there was even a Mario movie, and when you told him such he gasped loudly, grabbing you by your shoulders and excitedly making plans to watch it together. You wouldn't tell anyone but with your newfound friendship with Seokjin, he had also gotten very comfortable touching you. Maybe it was the aftereffect of being so vulnerable around him that one time or the fact that you were trying to get over Jiho, but every time he pulled you into a hug or brushed past you it made your heart skip a beat. You controlled the flush slowly creeping up your neck, as you shrugged his hands off your shoulders and solidified your plans to watch the movie together.

True to his word, Seokjin showed up at your house with a case of beers, a local microbrew full of hops that made your tongue sing. Halfway through the movie, you had no idea what was happening, Mario and Luigi, who had terribly fake accents, by the way, jumping through trying to save the damsel in distress in what looked like an acid trip. The alcohol didn't help as the plot got more convoluted, but that didn't stop Seokjin from excitedly trying to help you decipher it.

You don't know when it happened, but his arm was around you, casually draped where your head met the couch, his fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as he sipped his beer. You took another sip of yours trying to calm yourself. No matter how many times you tried to focus on the colours exploding on the screen, all you could think about was your hammering heart as your skin heated up under his innocent touch. It wasn't when he abruptly pulled his arm away from you that you were broken out of reverie.

"So what did you think?" He asked excitedly, turning on the couch towards you, a leg moving up and under his other. You hadn't even realized the movie ended. Did they save the princess? Or was it their business they were trying to save? What was this movie even about?

"Um... it was something," you commented, hoping that the vague answer would satisfy him, as you chugged the rest of your beer.

"It's cause you're not drunk enough! Y/N! I told you, you had to get wasted to like this movie!" He whined, clumsily opening another bottle and handing it to you. You weren't drunk, he was right. You were on the right side of tipsy, just on the edge of jumping into oblivion. Seokjin on the other hand, seemed much more ahead of you as he struggled with the bottle opener.

Chuckling, you reached out and put your hands over his, helping him uncap his bottle. You didn't notice how close you had gotten until he whispered thanks and his breath ghosted the skin of your nose. Looking up, your breath hitched as you saw the look in his eyes. Usually filled with mirth, it was jarring to see him looking at you with want, his long dark hair falling into his eyes as they traced your features. You saw his eyes linger on your lips and all you could do was blink. You knew you should move away, he was coworker and friend, but you froze, the two of you lost in the silence.

He made the first move, bringing his hand to your face tentatively. You leaned into it, sighing a little, and that's when you felt his lips on yours. Soft, plush lips that you had imagined more than a few times this past month, molded around yours. The kiss was shy, a little soft as his thumb caressed your flushing cheek. Your hands still on top of his on the beer tightened as you deepened the kiss, and he followed, grunting slightly, his hand moving to the back of your head, angling it a little. You mewled when his tongue licked at your lip, granting him access as it roamed your mouth, easily taking charge as your heart exploded within your chest. You hadn't been kissed like this before, the balance of gentle and domineering, making your knees weak. You were glad you were seated because otherwise, you'd be on the floor.

You don't know how long you were kissing, but the spell was broken as his phone rang, making him pull away abruptly, lips swollen and face red. It took everything in you to not go in for seconds as your mouth followed his. He didn't oblige you though, as he pulled away, resting his hand on your waist as he reached for his phone.

"It's my mom. I'm sorry," he apologized with a pout that did not help how you were feeling. Finding it hard to speak, you simply nodded as if in a daze. His wide, grateful smile made you turn to putty as he answered, only to frown. Quickly ending the call, he grabbed your face and kissed you again, hard but quick, taking your breath away.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry." He looked at you, his forehead pressed against yours, as you blinked. Standing up from the couch, you straightened your t-shirt, as you walked him to the door. He stopped in front of it, his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, making you smile. You felt like a teenager who got to kiss their crush, it was bizarre. Pecking your lips a few times, he bid you goodbye, waving as he walked off, leaving his truck in your driveway.

Shutting the door, you giggled giddily, forgetting all about your earlier worries of maintaining a professional decorum, as your fingertips grazed your lips, still feeling the touch of his lips. That night he messaged you just once, and you reread the text over and over as you fell asleep.

Thanks for watching that stupid movie with me tonight. Can't wait to continue where we left off ;)

The next day you were extremely excited to go to work, changing your outfit multiple times before settling on a pretty pastel pink dress and leaving your apartment, noticing the truck was no longer in your driveway. Stopping by to grab a cup of coffee, you greeted Doris.

“Hi Doc! Happy last day to send Santa a letter!” she chirped as he poured your order. You shook your head in amusement. This was by far the weirdest aspect of this town. They were all so obsessed with Christmas, grown adults refusing to talk about how Santa doesn’t exist. It would be endearing, charming in a way if it weren’t for the fact that Bean There was the location where they collected these letters to Santa, and it was full of people scrambling to write. You would think it would be mostly kids, but you could spot Mr. Hernandez, a sixty year old retired lumberjack, scribbling away, as well as Molly, the recent college graduate. It seemed the town had no age limit when it came to believing in Christmas miracles.

“Doris, I don’t know what’s in the air here, but you guys know Santa isn’t real right?” you whispered, not wanting to incite a full out riot, like you accidentally did when you first moved and made the same comment. Either this town was very much into the spirit of things or you were just too late to catch up to the mass group hysteria everyone seemed to be a part of.

“Y/N! You just have to believe, hon. I’m telling you every year, whatever you write on those letters comes through. I mean you can’t ask Santa for love or anything but anything material comes! Always. How else do you explain that?” You frowned as she pushed your coffee towards you. Sure, you didn’t have a logical explanation for that but that doesn’t mean Santa was real. However, you were in a great mood this morning, looking forward to seeing Seokjin, and so you acquiesced to Doris when she waved a piece of paper, writing the first thing that came to your head which was a snowglobe, since the shelves behind the counter was lined with about a thousand. You could use a cute one to put on your desk, if Santa was in fact real.

When you walked into the hospital, coffee in hand and pep in your step, you looked around for the familiar mop of dark hair, half expecting a ho ho ho, or some cheerful Christmas pun Seokjin usually pulled out in the morning, but you were met with an empty lobby. Even his office was empty. It was odd. He was usually the first one in after you.

Walking into your office you felt your earlier excitement twist into nerves. What if he regretted last night? What if he thought you were unprofessional? But he had texted you, surely he couldn’t regret it too much, could he? Oh! He was so drunk last night. He probably regrets it and now finds it awkward to be around you. Technically he was your subordinate, so were you now one of those creepy bosses they show on television? Inviting your employees to your house to get them drunk and make them kiss you? This was bad. Your thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to focus on today’s schedule in front of you, before, thankfully, Jenny broke through them.

“Hey Y/N. I’ll be taking over Seokjin’s workload while he’s on vacation. Is there anything in particular you need help with today? Otherwise I’m just gonna follow the notes he left behind.”

“Vacation?” you stammered, clearing your throat and taking another sip of your drink.

“Yeah. He takes the ten days before Christmas off every year. Something about a family obligation.” She shrugged.

“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” You tried your best to not sound disappointed.

“It’s been on the calendar for years, doc.” Jenny chuckled as she walked out of your office, leaving you confused as you went to check the employee calendar and lo and behold, there it was ‘Kim Seokjin on vacation’, staring at you. You were annoyed. You expected at least some notice. Did he think he could just kiss you and then go off to wherever he was. Fuming, you opened your phone to text him.

So when were you going to tell me you were away for the rest of the month?

You waited a few minutes, staring at the screen, but when the message still showed unread you gave up and did what you do best when people piss you off. You worked. And you continued working for the whole week, till you were fed up with Seokjin. He had seemed so caring and then to ghost you out of nowhere? Sure, you can expect that perhaps his vacation slipped his mind, but did he suddenly lose his fingers? He couldn’t do you the courtesy of sending a text when you had left on what you thought were nothing but good terms? “Continue where we left off”, your ass.

------------

It was two days to Christmas and you were bored. You parents had decided that since you were away, they were going to go on a cruise. Sick of scrolling endlessly through social media, envying your friends, you decided to take a walk to the only place open 24 hours in this town, the diner. It was 2 am and you didn’t think you would see anyone other than Mark, the friendly twenty-year old whose family owned the place.

You were enjoying your plate of fries, and a milkshake when the little bell above the door grabbed your attention off your phone and in walked the last person you expected to see - Kim Seokjin. He was dressed casually as always, his black parka over a white hooded sweater and dark jeans. It didn’t seem like he noticed you, waltzing over to the register to order a coffee as he sat on a stool, waiting for the fresh pot to brew.

Seeing his face, made you stupidly angry. You knew rationally that he didn’t owe you anything, you were just friends. Friends who shared a pretty nice kiss, but you were friends, you had no claim over him, but you still found yourself fuming and getting up from your booth to march over to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spoke in a normal volume, but Seokjin jumped high, his eyes widening as he put his hand on his chest, staring at you.

“Y/N! Um… what are you doing here so late?” He asked, his eyes shifting around, looking anywhere but at you.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” You crossed your arms, wanting answers.

“I can explain! I swear it is not what you think!” He jumped up from the stool, arms in front of him as he tried fruitlessly to calm you down.

“What is it, then? Did you lose your phone? Did you lose your head?” You scoffed, fully knowing that your comeback was far from witty, but you could barely think, indignation mapped onto your features.

“It’s not that… it’s just… I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even know if I can.” He rubbed the back of his head, his ears turning red, as they usually did when he was embarrassed. Seeing his demeanour suddenly made the pieces click in your head. There was only one reason people ghosted each other. It was a rejection. You felt your face heat up at the realization, feeling like you were going to cry. Oh, this was bad. You couldn’t believe you were about to shed tears over a kiss. You needed to get out of here.

“No need. It’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take a hint.” You said quickly, your voice seemingly calm given the situation as you zipped up your parka and walked out of the diner, ignoring his calls of your name. If he really needed to explain himself, he could have followed you, but you walked the ten minutes to your apartment alone, burying yourself under the covers once inside. You didn’t realize that unwittingly you had been thinking about your future with Seokjin, picturing dates and waking up together when all he had been doing was figuring out a way to gently let you down. You decided to let yourself feel the sting, dampening your pillow cases, finding that somehow this hurt more than what Jiho did. Who knew the kind, wholesome small town boy could hurt you worse than a cold lawyer from New York?

----------

Having no close friends yet in town and not wanting to burden the nice people who invited you to their homes, you decided to pretend that you were going to New York over the holidays. You stocked up on enough groceries to get you through the New Years and decided to hide out in your apartment. You spent your time cleaning your apartment, doing skincare, reading the latest medical journals, and binging the Crown on Netflix.

On Christmas morning, you decided to treat yourself for brunch, making an obscenely large stack of pancakes, piling it high with fruit and chocolate chips, and drowning it in maple syrup. Foregoing dressing up, you sat on your living room floor in your festive pajamas as you watched the political ongoing of the royal family, and enjoyed your sugar loaded creation. However, before you could truly dig into your pancakes, you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

You didn’t know who would be knocking at your door this early and on Christmas. You weren’t expecting anyone and everyone knew you were supposed to be out of town. Sighing you begrudgingly rise as the tempo of the knocks increased. Huffing you opened the door to be greeted by none other than Kim Seokjin, dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you had the misfortune of seeing and jeans, with a campy Santa hat atop his dark hair. The forest green Christmas sweater, adorned with a stuffed Rudolph and what seemed like real mistletoe, also apparently lit up, the twinkling red and green lights on it glowed in the morning sun as little flurries collected in Seokjin’s hair.

Regardless of the terrible wardrobe choice, you couldn’t deny the sudden pull you felt towards him, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him on your doorstep with a small box wrapped in shiny paper. However, you were nothing if not determined, so you schooled your initial wide eyed expression into a glare as you crossed your arms across your chest and leaned into the door frame.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to give you your present.” Seokjin smiled as he brought the gift towards you, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Seokjin, I don’t want you or your presents.”

“Not gonna lie, that kind of hurts.” He scratches the back of his head nervously, sending his hat askew as he sways a little on his feet, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good,” you say as you move to close the door on his face. Not going to lie, you were pretty proud of your resolve. Before you could fully shut the door, Seokjin put his hand out to stop it, jumping a little when he saw the cold look in your eye. Stepping back sheepishly, he cleared his throat.

“Please Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“Go ahead.” Still holding the door half closed, you stared at him, your resolve melting as he seemingly shivered outside.

“Can I at least come in? It’s kind of cold.” You rolled your eyes again, and acquiesced. Not because you wanted to hear him or be near him, but because he looked kind of pitiful shaking in the cold in a sweater that didn’t seem built for the Alaskan winter. Stepping aside you let him in your hallway, leaning against the wall, your patience at an all time low. “Okay. So… um… how do I even start this?”

“Seokjin. Just say you don’t like me and go. It’s Christmas. The least you can do is be straightforward.” His stammering was infuriating. It made you want to kick him. However, as the words came out of your mouth, Seokjin looked shocked, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs as his mouth flew open. It was a pretty funny sight, and if you were less angry you would’ve chuckled.

“Why do you think I don’t like you? What?”

“Hmm… Let’s see you got drunk, you kissed me and then you disappeared! Like poof!” You gestured in the air with your hand, trying to make the point more apparent.

“Well that’s what I am trying to explain!” And now he was gesturing, his hand with the box rising in the air.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Just open this. It will help start my explanation.” He took your hand in his and placed the box on top of it. You eyed him suspiciously as you began to unwrap the iridescent paper. Inside the box was a snowglobe, the scene inside showing a field full of flowers with a small truck with two people on the hood. When you shook it, it came alive with glitter and tiny styrofoam flurries. It was very cute and very reminiscent of the night Seokjin and you first became friends. You loved it, but it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t petty enough to hide your true emotions to look at him with disdain.

“A snowglobe? Okay? So?”

“Don’t you wanna know how I knew you wanted this?” He spoke slow, his words and spaced out as he frowned at your scowl.

“I didn’t want this?” You matched his slow pace, enunciating each word as you raised an eyebrow in question. Why did he think you would want a snowglobe of all things? I mean he knew what you really wanted was those cupcakes that Doris only made once a month, you had told him how much you adored them on more than one occasion. If he wanted to be all romantic he could have at least bribed her for some of those!

“But… you asked Santa for it!” he sputtered, jogging your memory to remind you of the throwaway wish you made in the letter to Santa a few days ago.

“So you steal mail now? That’s a federal offence, you know.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No! No no no. I don’t steal mail. Unless it’s snail mail because it’s easy to catch.” He laughed at his own joke, but seeing your deadpan expression, he backpedaled, nervously running his hands through his hair again. “No? Okay, bad joke. But I didn’t steal it. You sent it to me! I’m Santa!” He was talking more with his hands than his words, waving them around in the air.

“Your excuse is that you’re Santa? How old do you think I am?” you scoffed, moving to push him out of the door, ignoring how solid his bicep felt under that ugly sweater. How was he not getting electrocuted by those stupid lights?

“No please don’t kick me out! I’m telling the truth!” Seokjin planted his feet in the ground turning around and looking at you with wide eyes, the cinnamon depths softening your anger as you sighed. This was so far fetched, the least you could do was hear him out. If nothing else, this would make a great story to share over drinks sometime.

“You have five minutes. And I’m eating my pancakes while you talk.” You let go of him as you walked into your living room, Seokjin close on your heels. You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and he followed suit, sitting much too close to comfort, his thigh grazing yours as he stared at your pile of sugar.

“Oh. Can I have some?” he asked, clearing his throat at your glare as you aggressively cut into a piece before stuffing your face. The nerve... “Sorry! Okay um… so did you think it was weird that the whole town just happened to believe in Santa?”

“I honestly was going to write a paper on mass hysteria, but yes.” You were much more interested now. You always did find the town's dedication to upholding the sanctity of Santa bizarre.

“Well, that’s because for almost a hundred years, people in this town have been getting what they wanted for Christmas, without fail.”

“Because you’re Santa?” You looked at him, waiting for him to explain only to be met with a soft smile as he nodded. His cheeks puffed up with his little smile and it took all of your willpower not to poke at them. Why did he have to be so cute when you were trying to be mad at him. Also, what grown man insists they're Santa? “So where are your elves? Is Rudolph just hiding in your truck?”

“I’ll have you know I’m an elf-made man!” He joked, his pun making you lose control as you let out a light laugh before remembering you were supposed to be mad and trying to hold a neutral expression. Seokjin, on the other hand, made no such effort, a wide grin adorning his features, making his eyes disappear beneath his squishy cheeks. “Hey got you to laugh! But no. No elves. Just me, well, and my family. It’s the family tradition I was talking about. For generations the Kims have been sending people in this town presents on Christmas in secret.”

“Wait how do you even afford this?” This made no sense. How was he buying these expensive presents, and also Santa was Korean? How did his family even hide this for so long? Why were these town people naive enough to believe this? How did he do deliveries? Did he work with Amazon? You had so many questions!

“Um… I’m kind of rich?” he replied sheepishly.

“Kind of? You give 2,000 presents a year!” Your pancakes were forgotten as you swiveled around to face him, your knees touching his thigh, momentarily distracting him as his eyes dropped to where you touched him, before following suit and facing you. The two of you sat cross-legged across from each other as he started what may have been the most useless and longest rant he embarked on since entering your home, talking animatedly as always.

“Yeah… but that’s not the point! The point is the days leading up to Christmas are really hard and this year I had to figure out how to make the drones work and this kid wanted an exact replica of Han Solo’s gun and those are really hard to find and then Mr. Hernadez decided he wanted a rare Amazonian flower. Like where am I supposed to find a flower in December?! And don’t get me started on Doris she-”

“Seokjin. Relax. So you ghosted me because you’re Santa?” You placed your hands on his knees to get him to calm down as his face seemed so red from his rant you were worried you would have to resuscitate him if he didn't take a breath soon. He calmed down exponentially, taking a deep breath and locking his eyes with yours.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t tell you and if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me till today anyway. And just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, placing his hand on top of yours on his knee as he held eye contact, and it seemed like you may forever get lost in his irises. He looked at you with such a sorrowful expression, that you weren't sure if the pout of his lips was exaggerated for effect or if it came naturally to him.

“I don’t know what to say… I kind of have regrets” You bit your lip as you gazed back at him with mischief.

“You do? I… I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might not like me back. Oh. I’m an idiot. Okay. I will see you at work. Happy holidays!” He spoke in flurried words as he tried to stand up before you stopped him mid-rise.

“Seokjin wait! That’s not the regret.” You were quick to stop him as he sank back down, a confused look on his face.

“It’s not?”

“No. I regret only asking Santa for a snowglobe! I should’ve asked for a car!” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh sure! What kind? I can get you a car.” He did not miss a beat before picking up his phone and scrolling through what you could only imagine being his gift list. Wait, were the Kims part of the mafia? You really should ask him where he gets all this money from someday. Nurses get paid pretty terribly, so it's definitely not that.

“Seokjin. I was kidding!”

“Oh. I knew that.” He put his phone down as he looked at you, blinking slowly a few times.

“So you like me.” You ask, leaning in slightly with a smirk.

“Yes.” He answered resoundingly, a determined look on his face as he leaned in as well. The two of you only a hair breadth apart.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You whisper, not wanting to break the sudden shift in the atmosphere, as you looked at his plush lips, before meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” His voice was lower, a little strained as he looked at you, his eyes jumping from each feature before settling on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Then come sit in Santa’s lap.” He leaned back, patting his lap with a smirk, making you blanch as you pull a disgusted face.

“Okay. I changed my mind.” You leaned back, before he came closer, his hands cupping your face.

“No no! Sorry! I just have always wanted to use Santa puns and you’re the only one outside of my family who knows and I don’t kn-” You cut off his rambling with a kiss, a soft, quick one on his lips that made his breath hitch. He recoiled a little in shock, staring at you before pulling your face to his and crashing your lips together.

This kiss was neither soft, nor short, but a flurry of emotions as you both tried to express what you couldn't in words. His lips were firm against yours as his hands moved down your body to pull you closer by the waist. A soft groan left his lips as you parted yours and he wasted no time starting to explore your mouth, his tongue meeting yours. His plush lips moulded against yours and you couldn’t help the moans that fell out of your mouth. You had missed his mouth against yours, the feeling as refreshing as the crisp sun after a blizzard. He tasted like coffee and you sucked at his tongue with fervour, eliciting a shocked moan from him as his hands left your waist to find your ass, gripping it harshly to pull you into his lap. You wasted no time straddling him, as you grind your core against him, making him groan. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled apart to catch his breath. Staring down at your heaving chest, he traced his hands on your hips, before breaking into a smirk. Gone was the rambling man from earlier, his eyes clouded with lust as he took you in. He leaned closer, his lips on your neck as he kissed from your collarbone peaking through your thin pajama top to your ear.

“Now that you’re finally in Santa’s lap, tell him what you want for Christmas.” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. Wow, he really was not going to let this go. You groaned in annoyance, cupping his face to pull him away from your ear to face you, ignoring the pout on his face.

“For you to shut up.” You kissed him, tilting his head slightly to give you access, before he pulled away, shaking your hands off his face till they rested on his broad shoulders.

“Come on! Let me have this!” He whined, his pout bigger as he looked at you with puppy eyes. You chuckled at his antics, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss, missing the taste of his lips already. His hands moved from your hips to the hem of your shirt, slowly moving up under it, tracing over your ribs, just below the swell of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Moaning gently, but not one to be outdone, you mirrored his movements, moving your hands down his built chest, feeling the soft material, and groaning in annoyance as you reached the stupid stuffed toy stitched to the centre. You reached the bottom of his sweater, but before you reached under it you pulled away, Seokjin chasing your lips.

“Will this dumb sweater shock me if I put my hands under it?” You huffed and played with the hem of his sweater as he smiled goofily, as if realizing he was wearing it for the first time. The goofy smile didn’t last for long as he moved his hands to cup your chest, massaging gently as he leaned in kissing your sternum, visible from the top button that had somehow loosened during your makeout.

“The only shock you’ll get is how loud you’ll be screaming my name when you cum.” He pulled on your nipples, making you mewl as you involuntarily arched your back, rolling your hips on his. You felt breathless, and you couldn’t believe his stupid wordplay was making you this wet.

“Big talk for someone whining about Christmas puns.” You moaned out as he tugged harder on your nipples in reprimand, his hands pushing against the fabric, as he bit the sensitive skin of your neck. Forgetting your earlier concerns, your hands go under his shirt, feeling his soft skin, the tiny hair on his abs tickling your fingertip, as you push the sweater as high it would go revealing his golden skin.

“Yule be sorry for doubting me.” He finally gives your sore nipples a rest, as his hands move to pull his sweater off, momentarily getting tangled up in, making you chuckle, which he mistakes for praise aimed at his puns, wiggling his eyebrows as he emerges from the monstrosity. If you weren’t so whipped for him, you would have made him leave. You didn’t know if this was a one off, if he really wanted things to progress or he just wanted sex but all thoughts fell out of your head as his lips reattached to your neck, his hands on your hips making you grind against him as the two of you made out like teenagers at prom.

“I will literally murder you if you make another pun.” You moaned out, losing yourself in his touch, his lips leaving behind blooms on your skin. If he kept moving your hips like this you were going to cum. You grabbed on to his hair as you moaned at the sensation your body lit as your clit grazed his length through the layers of clothing. Your legs shook as the feeling in your stomach tightened and Seokjin chuckled against your neck.

“Yeah murder me with that pussy.” You could feel his grin but all your annoyance was forgotten as you felt yourself let go, mewling his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your grip on his hair tightening.

He kissed you as you came down from your high, his erection solid against you as his tongue explored your mouth. When he pulled away he looked almost crazed, the lust in his half lidded gaze mirroring yours as his hands moved to your top, slowly unbuttoning it. “Fuck that was so hot. Let me unwrap you, baby.”

He wiggled his eyebrows again as he looked at you. How could this man be this sexy and this dorky was beyond you. Wanting to see him writhe over you, you started kissing his neck, moving to his chest, leaning him back as you inched closer to the waistband of his jeans.

“You first!” You exclaimed, wasting no time to unbutton his jeans as he sighed in relief, moving to remove them completely before you reached for his boxers. You were a little taken aback when his cock popped out. It was bigger than you thought, head red as a bead of precum glistened in the late morning sun pouring in from your windows. Your mouth watered at the sight and without thinking you licked up his length, his groans egging you on as you bent over him.

“Shit so perfect! So good to me,” he moaned out as you looked at him. His head lolled back as he leaned against his hands behind him, his wide chest rising heavily due to your ministrations. He let out a loud moan, resembling almost a whine, as you wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking softly. You loved that moan, wanted more of it as you took him deeper, his hand coming to rest on your hair. He panted loudly, his moans filling your room, your mind, as you gazed at him looking at you with awe. “This look soots you.”

He really had to make another dumbass joke, didn’t he? You pulled off his length, sitting back as your hand replaced your mouth, slowly stroking him as you scowled at him. God, you wanted him to beg you so bad.

“That better be suit with a u-i or I swear I’m not gonna let you cum.” You gripped him harder, twisting your wrist as your panties get wetter with power. He mewled a little, twitching in your hand as you grinned. His head lolled to the side and suddenly he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with challenge as your words finally processed in his mind.

Before you could react, he was on you. One hand gripping your wrist and other behind your head as he leaned you over till your back was on the cold hardwood floor and he hovered over you. He smirked at you before he leaned in to kiss you sloppily, making you lose all senses.

“Aw sweetheart, it’s cute you think you’re in charge.” He cooed, as his forearms trapped your head, his kisses becoming softer, reminiscent of the first time he kissed you a week ago. He took his time, his weight a comforting presence on top of you as you melted into the floor. He looked at you with adoration when you broke apart, his nose touching yours and a soft smile on his face.

“But seriously, Y/N. I didn’t come here for this. I want this so bad but I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand, drink a milkshake with two straws together. I don’t know! I wanna spoil you!” His voice was low, but his words were fast, like he just couldn’t hold them in any longer. You giggled in disbelief, caressing his back. This man really was going to be the death of you.

“Seokjin you’re naked and you want to hold my hand?” you chuckled as he nodded, his eyes glinting and smiling wide. He reached out to hold your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly, an oddly saccharine contrast to the way he was devouring you moments ago.

“I mean I also want to rail you hard, but yeah I don’t want it to be just sex.” You felt your heart flutter at his words, your face heating up more than it already was and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Me neither.” Your grip on his hand tightened and his cock twitched against your thigh, bringing your lust back to the forefront of your mind as you kissed him again, much more hungrier this time. “So come on get on with it. Choo choo!”

He leaned away looking at you with wide eyed surprise before breaking into a shit eating grin.

“Was that a rail- fuck! You’re perfect!” He gushed as he kissed his way down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went. He lapped at your nipples, hardening them under his tongue as his hand pulled your pajama shorts off, your panties following quickly after. You wanted to throw another quick witted remark at him, but all thoughts disappeared at his sudden enthusiasm as his mouth made its way to your core. He began to kiss down your slit, light feathery kisses that had you desperate for more, mewling as he continued.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, it’s really taken a mistletoe-ll on me.” He grinned, his breath warm against your folds. Your retort was forgotten when he slid his tongue inside you, flicking against your sensitive walls before he was sucking at your clit. The pleasure was unbearable and you shook under him, thanking yourself for forgoing carpeting the floors. He put his arm over your hips to hold you down as you chanted his name. You were dripping, your heart beating loudly in your chest as he ate you like a man starved, pushing you closer and closer to your high. You walls clenched around his tongue as you moaned louder, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

“I’m so close!” you whined expecting Seokjin to speed up to guide you through your high. He, however, slowed down, the pressure in your belly ebbing slowly away as you whined his name. “Why did you stop?!”

“Tell me my puns are funny.” He looked up at you grinning as you yelped when two fingers entered you. His fingers curled inside you making your back arch as you moaned his name. “Come on admit it, Dr. Y/L/N”

“No… they’re… stupid...” you breathed out as his pace increased and decreased keeping you firmly on the edge, your walls fluttering, your eyes squeezed shut as you refused to beg. He kept up his taunting till you thought you would lose your mind, every nerve in your body on fire as your legs quivered. He was insane! Not being able to take it anymore, you conceded. “Fuck… please! Please Seokjin! Your puns are hilarious. I give! Please…”

“Good girl. Knew you were on the nice list.” he exclaimed as his mouth latched on to your clit and before you knew it you were screaming, your body shaking as you had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, your arousal gushing out of you as Seokjin gleefully lapped it up. You felt a buzzing in your ears, your vision spotty as he coaxed you slowly through your high.

Seokjin kissed his way up your trembling body, and slotting his mouth against yours, he caressed your sides as you tried to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes he was smiling at you, lying next to you on the floor.

“Told you not to doubt me, baby,” he said lowly as his nose bumped yours gently.

“No pun this time?”

“I was gonna say mistletoe-ld but I already used that one.” He grinned.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, facepalming. “Why do I still want to fuck you?”

“Because I’m a sex god.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You stood up, a little shakily, at his comment, looking down at his alarmed face before walking away to your bedroom. Before you reached the door, you looked back at him. Seokjin was still in the same position, looking at you dumbfounded, probably wondering what he did wrong. You rolled your eyes at him as you gestured towards your room.

“Come on Santa, don’t you wanna climb up my chimney?” You laughed at the speed he stood up, his hard erection bouncing funnily as he ran towards you with a dopey smile, placing his arms around you in a back hug as you walked into your room.

“Stop being funny or I’ll fall in love with you,” he whined, rutting against you petulantly, making you giggle. You guided him to your bed, making him sit with his back to the headboard as you grabbed a condom from your bedside table, stroking him to gently roll it over his length. His breath hitched as you climbed over him, your knees on the bed next to his thighs. Seemingly unable to wait anymore, he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hungry kiss, a flurry of tongue and teeth.

You rise, your hands on his shoulders as you slowly descend on his, his girth a soothing pain as your walls stretch around him. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths as you stare at each other, face red and eyes blown from lust. For the first time, there was silence between the two of you, your staredown intense as you slowly started riding him. It felt delicious and it took all of your strength not to close your eyes in pleasure.

Your pace increased as Seokjin’s hands were placed firmly on your hips, pulling your hips higher so he could thrust into you. You kissed him at that, no longer able to take his intense stare and he groaned, increasing his speed. His cock rammed into you and you saw stars, clinging on his shoulders as waves of pleasure flowed through you. He kisses and bites your neck, his lips leaving blooms of petals in their trail, as his movements become sloppy.

He leans back a little, grabbing your hand to guide it to your clit, rubbing your fingers on it. The added friction to your bud paired with his wild thrusts has you coming undone in seconds. Your toes curl as his name stretches around your moan and you still in his arms, your vision hazy. He cums shortly after, thrusting in you a few times chanting your name before falling lax against the headboard, pulling you against him.

The two of you sat there for a while, till he softened enough to slip out of you, the feeling sending shudders through the two of you. Placing a hand on your chin, he brought your lips to his, before looking at you with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling.

“So… Merry Christmas?” He shrugged making you giggle, as you rolled off him and sat next to him.

“Who knew I’d be a ho ho ho for Santa?” Seokjin laughed, clapping as he squealed with glee, before calming down enough to put his arms around you, cuddling you close, and grabbing one of your hands in his. He played with your fingers as he smiled.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. I promise I’ll never do that again.” He kissed your temple, tightening his arms around you.

“It’s okay. You made up for it.”

The two of you spend Christmas morning together. You made more pancakes, dressed in only his horrendous sweater as he belted out Mariah Carey in his underwear. Your heart swelled when he placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as the two of you swayed to the music, barefoot on the kitchen floor. You knew you made the right decision when you moved to Alaska, it just took you this moment to realize how right.

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I hope you liked this fluffy Christmasy piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

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