Chapter 4

By the evening of the party, Santa’s dorm room no longer felt like his own space. Mostly because Bonnie had completely taken over.

“Stand still,” she ordered while digging through his closet.

Santa stood near the bed with his arms crossed loosely, watching her with growing concern.

“…I can choose clothes myself.”

“I’m aware,” Bonnie replied without looking at him. “Today, I simply don’t trust your choices.”

“Why?”

“Because you usually don’t go to party Santa,” Bonnie replied a bit amused.

Santa sighed quietly.

Bonnie turned back around holding several hangers before narrowing her eyes thoughtfully at him. “You wear black constantly.”

“I like black.”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

Before Santa could argue further, Bonnie held up a soft baby blue cardigan.

Santa stared at it immediately.

“…Absolutely not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She walked closer and pushed it lightly against his chest anyway. “Try it.”

Santa looked down at the fabric before glancing back up at her. “…It’s too bright, you know what I mean.”

“It’s literally pastel blue.”

He still hesitated.

Bonnie sighed dramatically. “Do you trust me?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“If this makes me look ridiculous.”

Her expression softened slightly. “It won’t,” she answered honestly. “It’ll look good on you.”

Santa exhaled quietly before finally taking the cardigan from her hands. “…Fine.”

Several minutes later, he stepped back out wearing the cardigan over a light shirt paired with gray jeans.

Bonnie froze immediately. “Oh.”

Santa shifted awkwardly beneath her stare. “…What?”

She walked closer to fix the sleeve unnecessarily before stepping back again.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “That definitely works.”

Santa looked down uncertainly. “It’s just clothes.”

“No,” Bonnie said immediately. “It’s really not.”

The lighter colors softened him completely. Made him look warmer. More approachable. Dangerously cute, honestly.

“…You look adorable,” she decided aloud.

Santa frowned instantly. “That was not the objective.”

“It is now.”

He opened his mouth to argue before giving up halfway through. “…Okay.”

Bonnie smiled triumphantly. “Exactly.”

Santa grabbed his phone from the desk while checking the time. And despite himself, his thoughts drifted immediately toward Perth.

*

The party was already loud by the time Santa and Bonnie arrived. Music vibrated through the house strongly enough to blur conversations together while colored lights shifted across crowded rooms filled with students. Some people danced near the speakers while others gathered around tables with drinks in hand.

Santa paused for a brief moment near the entrance, taking it all in. It was exactly what he expected. Crowded. Noisy. Too much.

Beside him, Bonnie glanced over. “You okay?”

Santa nodded slowly. “…Yeah.”

It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either.

Before the feeling could settle, Bonnie lightly caught his wrist. “Come on, I see them.”

Across the room, Phuwin was easy to spot, standing close to Pond. The two of them looked comfortable in the middle of this chaos.

Phuwin noticed them first, his expression lighting up slightly as they approached.

“You actually came,” he said.

Bonnie laughed. “Of course.”

Santa gave a small nod, his attention briefly shifting to Pond.

Up close, it made sense why he and Perth got along. Same kind of presence. Confident, grounded, at ease in a place like this.

“Hey,” Pond greeted them, friendly. “Glad you came.”

They gathered together naturally, forming a small circle away from the busiest part of the room. The noise was still there, but more distant now, easier to ignore.

The conversation started easily. Bonnie talked, Phuwin added comments here and there, and Santa stayed quieter at first, listening more than speaking. But it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Not with them.

At some point, Pond glanced around, then back at them. “You guys want something to drink?”

There was a brief pause, then nods all around.

“Yeah,” Bonnie said.

“Sure,” Phuwin added.

Santa nodded as well. “…Okay.”

Pond smiled lightly. “I’ll be back.”

He disappeared into the crowd with ease, leaving the three of them together. The conversation picked up again, a bit more relaxed now, familiar. Bonnie leaned slightly closer to Santa to be heard over the music, Phuwin occasionally glancing toward where Pond had gone. A few minutes later, Pond returned, drinks in hand. He passed them around one by one, making sure everyone had something before settling back beside Phuwin. They resumed talking, the rhythm smoother now, laughter slipping in more easily between sentences.

After a while, the noise started to press in, the music felt louder, the lights a little too bright, the air heavier than before. Santa had barely noticed how much he’d been drinking until the warmth settled in, soft and unfamiliar, making everything slightly slower, slightly lighter. He set his glass down, blinking once as if to refocus.

“I’m going outside for a bit,” he said, leaning closer so Bonnie and Phuwin could hear him.

Bonnie looked at him for a second, reading his expression, then nodded. “Yeah, go. We’ll be here.”

Phuwin added a small “Text if you disappear,” half-teasing.

Santa gave a faint nod and slipped away before either of them could say more.

*

On his side, Perth had been at the party long before Santa arrived. At first, it was exactly what he was used to. Teammates pulling him into conversations, people congratulating him on the win, hands clapping his shoulder, drinks appearing in his hand without him asking. Someone dragged him into a game, then another. Laughter, noise, familiar faces. It should have been easy to stay in it. But his attention kept slipping.

Every time the door opened, his gaze shifted without thinking. Every movement near the entrance caught his eye for just a second longer than it should have.

When Santa finally arrived, Perth didn’t see him right away. By the time he noticed, he was surrounded again, pulled into another conversation he couldn’t easily leave. He answered, laughed at the right moments, played along.

It took him a while to finally step away, offering quick excuses, slipping out of one group before another could catch him. The noise followed him, but it felt easier to move through now that he had something else in mind.

He spotted Bonnie first, then Phuwin and Pond nearby.

“Where’s Santa?” Perth asked.

Bonnie glanced toward the door. “He went outside. Needed some air.”

Perth nodded once, already turning before she could add anything. Outside, the shift was immediate. Perth saw him. Santa was standing a little further ahead, under the soft glow of the outdoor lights.

For a second, Perth didn’t move and forgot how to breathe properly.

It was the first time he was really seeing him tonight. The baby blue cardigan caught the light in a way that made Santa looked soft and warm. It wasn’t something Perth would have expected him to wear, but it fit him perfectly. The color brought out something different, something easier, almost fragile, it suited him ridiculously well.

Warm.

Pretty.

Cute.

The thought came without hesitation. Perth let out a quiet breath, something in his chest tightening just slightly, though he couldn’t quite name why. He had seen Santa almost every day lately. Sat across from him, walked beside him, listened to him. But this felt different.

*

Outside, the night air hit him immediately. Santa exhaled slowly, stepping a little further from the door, letting the distant bass of the music fade into the background. The tension in his shoulders eased almost without him noticing. For a moment, he just stood there, breathing.

“You okay?”

Santa turned slightly.

Perth was standing a few steps away, hands in his pockets, watching him with a more focused expression than usual.

“…Yes,” Santa said. “Just needed some air.”

Perth nodded before stepping closer, though not enough to invade his space. “Yeah. It gets a bit much inside.”

A brief silence settled between them, more comfortable than it would have been days ago.

“You came,” Perth added after a moment.

Santa glanced at him briefly. “…I said I might.”

“Still it matters.”

Santa didn’t argue. He looked back toward the door, then down at his hands, as if realizing something.

“I didn’t say it earlier,” he said.

Perth raised a brow. “Say what?”

Santa hesitated for a second, then met his eyes.

“…Congratulations. For the game.”

Perth blinked, slightly caught off guard. Then a small smile appeared, softer than usual. “Thanks.”

Santa shifted his weight slightly, the faint effects of the alcohol still there, softening his usual restraint.

“You played well?” he asked.

Perth let out a short breath, amused. “You’re asking me?”

“I didn’t see the game.”

“Then yeah,” Perth said lightly. “I was amazing.”

Santa looked at him for a second then, unexpectedly, a small smile appeared.

“That sounds like you.”

Perth laughed softly.

The sound lingered in the space between them. Then, the quiet between them lingered for a moment, the distant music fading into the background. Perth shifted slightly, his gaze still on Santa, something playful returning to his expression.

“Well,” he said, tilting his head just a little, “Since we won the game… I think I deserve a reward.”

Santa blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change of tone. “…A reward?”

Perth nodded, like it made perfect sense.

Santa frowned slightly, the faint warmth from the alcohol still softening his reactions. “And why would I be the one giving it to you?”

A small smile tugged at Perth’s lips. “Because you’re here,” he said simply. “And you didn’t even come watch the game.”

Santa stared at him for a second, trying to decide if he was serious.

“That’s not a valid reason,” he replied.

“Sure it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

Perth let out a quiet laugh, stepping just a little closer, enough to lower his voice without forcing it. “Alright,” he said, as if considering it. “Then I’ll make it simple.”

Santa’s eyes narrowed slightly. “…What do you want?”

Perth met his gaze, steady, a hint of mischief still there but softer than before.

“Just a kiss,” he said.

Santa’s heart skipped a beat.

“On the cheek,” Perth added, like it was nothing.

Santa didn’t move. The words settled slowly, mixing with the slight dizziness in his head, making it harder to react the way he normally would.

“…You’re joking,” he said, but it came out quieter than expected.

Perth didn’t answer right away. He just watched him, waiting.

Santa’s heart picked up slightly, his thoughts less sharp than usual, tangled between instinct and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“…That’s not something you just ask,” he muttered.

Perth shrugged lightly. “I just did.”

Santa swallowed, glancing away for a second before looking back at him. “…You’re impossible.”

Perth’s smile softened, just a little. “So?”

Santa hesitated for a second longer. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the quiet of the night, or the way Perth was looking at him without pushing any further.

“…Fine,” he said at last, almost under his breath.

Perth didn’t move. Santa stepped closer instead. Slowly, like he was still giving himself time to change his mind. He leaned in, careful, his movements more tentative than usual. For a brief moment, he paused, close enough to feel the warmth of Perth’s skin, then pressed a light kiss against his cheek.

It was quick and soft.

And then he pulled back or at least, he tried to. Before he could fully step away, Perth’s hands came up, gently but firmly cupping his cheeks. Santa froze.

The sudden contact caught him off guard, his breath hitching slightly as the distance between them disappeared. They were close now. Too close.

Perth’s thumbs rested lightly against his skin, steadying him without force.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Santa’s eyes flickered, unsure where to settle.

“…Thank you,” Perth said quietly.

His voice was softer than Santa had ever heard it. Not teasing. Not playful.

Perth didn’t let go. His hands stayed where they were, warm against Santa’s cheeks, steady but gentle, keeping him close without forcing him. For a moment, he just looked at him.

Then, quieter, almost thoughtful, “Do you think I can push my luck a little more?”

Santa’s breath caught, his mind slower than usual, still trying to keep up. “…What does that mean?”

Perth’s thumbs brushed lightly against his skin, barely there, but enough to make Santa’s chest tighten.

“It means,” Perth said, voice low, “You’re too cute for my own good Santa.”

Santa froze. The words landed harder than they should have. Heat rose instantly to his face, his thoughts stumbling over each other as he tried to respond, to say something but nothing came out.

Perth noticed. A faint smile appeared, softer than before, as he leaned in just slightly, closing the distance inch by inch.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you,” he murmured, eyes flicking briefly to Santa’s lips before meeting his gaze again, “It’s time for you to move back.”

The world seemed to narrow around them. The music from inside felt distant, muffled. The air between them warmer, heavier.

Santa didn’t move. His eyes stayed on Perth, wide, uncertain, but not pulling away. His heart was beating too fast, his thoughts too tangled to sort through.

Perth hesitated for just a second longer, like he was giving him one last chance. Then he closed the distance.

So when their lips finally met, it was gentle. Santa’s breath hitched at the contact, his whole body going still for a fraction of a second. The world seemed to narrow to that single point, the warmth of Perth’s lips against his, the steady hold of his hands still framing his face.

It wasn’t rushed. There was no pressure behind it.

Perth felt it too. The way Santa didn’t move at first, the slight tension under his hands, the hesitation that slowly melted into something else. Something softer.

At this right moment, Perth completely forgot about the bet. He was just thinking about Santa’s lips, how they were sweet and warm against his.

He softened the kiss even more, almost instinctively, like he didn’t want to break whatever fragile balance they had reached.

Santa let it happen. The initial surprise faded, replaced by something warmer, unfamiliar but not unpleasant. His fingers tightened slightly on Perth’s shirt, then relaxed again as his mind slowly caught up with the moment. He could feel his heartbeat, fast and uneven, feel the heat rising to his cheeks, the closeness that made everything else feel distant.

When they finally pulled apart, it wasn’t abrupt. Just a slow separation, like neither of them wanted to break it too quickly. For a second, they stayed close, breaths uneven, eyes searching each other’s. Santa didn’t step back immediately, and Perth didn’t let go right away either.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The space between them felt different now. Closer, heavier, filled with something neither of them was quite ready to name.

Perth’s hands slowly slipped away from Santa’s face, but not completely. His fingers lingered, brushing lightly against his skin as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“…Do you want to go back inside?” he asked, voice still low, softer than before.

Santa blinked, like the question took a second to reach him.

The music, the lights, the crowd, it all came rushing back into his mind at once. He shook his head slightly.

“…No,” he said, quieter than usual. “I think I’ll just go back to my dorm.”

There was no hesitation in his tone, just a kind of overwhelmed honesty he didn’t try to hide.

Perth watched him for a second, taking in the flushed cheeks, the way Santa avoided his eyes just a little now, like he needed space to breathe.

“Alright,” he said. He stepped back just enough to give Santa that space, then added, “I’ll walk you.”

Santa looked up at him, surprised.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“I want to.” Perth’s answer came without hesitation.

Santa hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded. “…Okay.”

They started walking. Side by side, back toward the path leading away from the party, the noise fading behind them with each step. At some point, without really thinking about it, Perth reached for Santa’s hand.

Santa stilled for a fraction of a second when their fingers touched, his breath catching slightly. He could have pulled away. He didn’t.

Their hands fit together more naturally than either of them expected, warm, steady, grounding in a way Santa hadn’t felt before.

By the time they reached the entrance of his dorm, neither of them had let go.

“This is me,” Santa said softly, though he didn’t move yet.

Perth nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of Santa’s hand, almost absentminded, but enough to make Santa’s heart pick up again.

For a moment, Perth just looked at him. Then, a little more serious than before, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

The question hung in the air.

Santa blinked, caught off guard all over again. His thoughts, already unsettled, struggled to catch up.

“A… date?” he repeated quietly.

Perth nodded once, his grip on Santa’s hand tightening just slightly, like he didn’t want to lose him now.

“Yeah.”

Santa looked at him, really looked this time. At the way Perth wasn’t hiding behind jokes, wasn’t pushing, wasn’t trying to make it easy or light.

His chest felt tight, his thoughts tangled, but beneath all of that, there was something else. “…Okay,” he said.

Perth’s expression shifted, something like relief flickering across his face before he smiled, slower this time. They stayed there for a moment longer, hands still intertwined, neither of them rushing to break it.

“Good night Santa, see you tomorrow,” Perth said with a soft voice.

——
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