Three young men, each holding a white bag, wandered through the mall. They moved in the form of a triangle, the two brothers walking ahead of their third companion. On the right was the older brother, if only by a few seconds. He had big, doe eyes the color of sapphires and brown, spiky hair. The younger brother stood just as tall as the other. His blond hair spiked straight up with bangs dipping down into his deep cerulean eyes. Beside one another no one would guess that they’re twins. But it’s not their looks or even their personalities that differ - it’s how long they’ve been dating their respective boyfriends. The fact became even more clear as light pink dusted the blond’s cheeks at whatever his brother had said. As the twins strode happily, their companion ambled behind them. His shoulders slumped as if he weight of the bag weighed a ton. He kept his head down, allowing his slate-colored hair to hide the right side of his face - the remaining tresses cropped short and tucked behind his ears. One indigo eye rolled briefly as he pursed his lips, blowing at his hair in frustration.
They all had one thing common; shopping for the perfect Christmas gift. For days they had begun their planning, equally determined to have a good holiday. It was agreed, save for the third wheel whom had to be coaxed, that on Christmas Eve they’d do something special for their significant other. It was the only gift that would be truly loved and adored every waking, and sleeping, moment. Naturally it began when the blond, Roxas, had gone to his brother, Sora, for advice on a gift for his boyfriend. As Sora relayed what he was giving the love of his life, the blond was struck with envy. The gift Sora planned to give was the simplest thing as well as the most precious - himself. Except Sora’s ideas involved a twist.
Roxas thought long and hard about it. He even went as far as going to the other boy, Zexion, for advice. At first, the rather talkative male went completely silent to the point of downright refusing to take part. That is until both Sora and Roxas cornered him, pointing out that he should join as well - seeing as he wouldn’t want his fiance to be left out as their boyfriends would surely be talking about it. Thus, Zexion grudgingly agreed even though he didn’t know what he would wind up doing. If he had, perhaps he would have resisted further.
However, it was too late and they all knew it. Christmas Eve was slowly coming to an end and they each had one last chance to decide - go through with it or not?
Sora had always loved Christmas. Even when his dearly beloved, Riku, had told him Santa wasn’t real and to stop writing those letters. For that reason, Sora had found his gift so perfectly ironic. It was every day that he got the chance to prove the older man wrong. Sora was patient despite his giddiness. He waited until Riku had fallen asleep after a hard day of shoveling snow before he slipped out of bed. As he set Riku’s alarm for eight, he gathered up a pillow and blanket. Walking downstairs, Sora programmed his cell-phone to go off an hour earlier than Riku’s would.
The lower floor was dark, only lit by the dim glow of Sora’s phone. Groggily he made his way over to the adequately sized tree. Sora knelt down beside it and fumbled with the plug, smiling as the lights sprung to life. White and blue bulbs wrapped around the tree with tinsel hanging from the branches. He was proud of their work, even if in some places the tinsel was clumped together. Moving over to the couch, he laid down. The glittering of the lights was the last thing he saw as he fell asleep.
A few hours later he was startled awake by the sound of his phone going off. Thinking he was in bed, Sora rolled right off the edge of the couch. His face hit the floor with his arm smacking hard against the table - a very loud groan following his fall. As he brings himself up to his knees, Sora clicks his alarm off. Rubbing at his eyes, the young man slides the phone onto the table before ambling to the hall closet. From there he pulls out a large bag and takes it over to the tree.
Riku slowly walks down the stairs, his silver hair bobbing around his pale face. His alarm had gone off and startled him awake. He only became concerned when he reached over for Sora and he wasn’t there. Blurry aquamarine eyes or not, he’s determined to find Sora. For that reason, Riku glances over the banister to the lit up tree, knowing he had turned it off for the night. On the couch he can see the blanket and pillow, while Sora’s phone sits on the table.
Raising an eyebrow, Riku moves in front of the tree as well as Sora. He stares down at him in with a slight bout of confusion. Sora is hunched over with his hands in his lap, shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm. It makes Riku almost believe him to be asleep instead of teasing him. Then again Sora would have giggled by now in his attempt to surprise his love. Riku kneels down in front of Sora, giving him a long look over.
The brunet remains true to the Christmas theme with a twist of his own. His Santa hat is black instead of red and because of his position it has slumped to the side over the right side of his face. Silver crown buttons line the front of his black shirt trimmed with white fur. A faded, brown belt with a silver buckle wraps tightly around his waist and over the shirt. His gloves match his shirt; black with white fur around the cuffs. His pants are the same shade minus the trim, ending just past his knees. From their his legs are wrapped in black and red ribbons, appearing to be the ones that normally go on presents. Those lead down to coal colored shoes with a silver stripe over their midsections.
All in all, Riku can only be impressed by the effort. Looking down further he notices a piece of folded construction paper. Picking it up, he immediately notices Sora’s slanted script across the front; To: Riku. Opening it he has to hold back a small chuckle.
From Santa. Believe in me now?
Even as Riku sets it back down, Sora remains still as a statue. Forever thinking on his toes, Riku brushes his hand over Sora’s cheek. As he leans forward, he tilts Sora’s face up. Their lips barely touch, but the passion is there. It only takes a moment before Sora’s lashes quiver and part; revealing surprised eyes. The lunar haired bo pulls away. “Care to tell me what you’re doing?”
Sora rubs at his eyes, gloved hands slumping right back into his lap once he’s done. “I had to get your present ready,” he mumbles.
“You’re my present?"
His head shakes softly. “No. Santa is your present-” a grin breaks out across his face, “-And I’m Santa.”
Riku can’t hold back his laughter this time. Loud chuckles slowly die back down at the sight of a very serious Sora. His grin settles back down into a smile. “You’re really something, you know that?” Happy, the brunet nods despite being so groggy. Flipping through numerous scenarios in his mind, Riku finally decides on one - something simple as a certain someone barely has one eye open. As Riku shifts his weight, he reaches out for Sora. “Hey Santa, kids get coal if they’re naughty right?” Sora falls down to the ground amongst the presents, which slowly moved out of their way thanks to Riku. “So what does Santa get when he’s been naughty?”
A small yawn escapes Sora’s lips, still quite not awake. “Sour milk?”
Laughing softly, Riku hovers his lips over Sora’s. “Not quite.”
Axel sits facing the tree, waiting for Roxas to leave their bedroom. The second he was awake, he was forced out of the room by the small blonde - declaring that his present has to be prepared. The first thing that came to Axel’s mind wasn’t far from the truth. Still, the redhead broods over the waiting factor; impatiently tapping his bare foot against the carpet. Despite the chill of the mid-morning, he’s comfortably warm in a pair of dark green sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Sitting backward on the wooden chair he waits with his arms crossed over the back and his head leaning against them.
As the bedroom door down the hall swings open, Axel chokes down his excitement to appear calm - or as Roxas would say, with his ‘sexy look’. Said blond saunters down the hallway with most of his milky white skin on display. His arms stay at his sides with fingers balled into fists. Tight black shorts cling to Roxas’ thighs with a belt around the top of them - a tail extending off the back of it. A small coal colored shirt sticks to his chest like a second skin; slim straps on his shoulders with the shirt only going so far as bast his breastbone. Black cat ears, appearing ot be made of felt, is secured to the top of his head. Every other part of him is bare; on display for the redhead he walks towards.
Despite the light tint of pink on his face, Axel could swear he’s done this before. With the subtle swing of his hips, Roxas walks around his boyfriend. Trying to keep up with him, Axel turns around in his seat to be met with a blond kneeling between his legs. The young man slides his hands up Axel’s thighs as he slowly rises enough for his chin to be level with Axel’s waist. “Merry Christmas Ax.”
The redhead is clearly flustered by Roxas’ actions - it certainly isn’t like his little blond to be so... bold! Not that he’d let onto that emotion. “Are you kitten me right meow?”
And everything stops dead. Silence layers the uncomfortable air; even the heater can be heard starting up as well as the faucet in the kitchen dripping.
Almost afraid to move, Axel looks down at Roxas only to see wide blue eyes. The look on his face does nothing to hide the shock of what Axel had said - it was unexpected, yet expected at the same time. Roxas had prepared himself for the endless amounts of stupid remakrs. But that one took the cake. Roxas stands up, avoiding any sort of eye contact. Slowly he reaches down to his waist, undoing the belt that holds the tail in place. The contraption drops at Axel’s feet. Slender fingers pluck at the ears atop his head. As he’s about to drop them to the ground as well, Axel grabs at his hands.
Sincere green eyes stare up at Roxas. “Look, I’m sorry. Come on Roxas, please? I’ll be good, I promise.”
Roxas stares down at him in clear disbelief. “You act like you love that chair more than me. Why should I believe you now?”
Perplexed, Axel glances down at the plain, frankly ugly, chair. He grabs at Roxas’ wrist and tugs him forward. “I love you more than anything. Even more than you love sea-salt ice cream.”
Unable to resist smiling, Roxas brings a hand to either side of Axel’s face. There he pushes Axel’s head back while moving so that he straddles both the redhead and his precious chair, pressing their mouths together with rough passion. Their lips pull away from one another. Axel wraps his arms securely around Roxas’ waist. “Merry Christmas to you too.”
Demyx slowly wakes to the sound of rustling in the kitchen; pans hitting the stove top utensils clacking against plates. It’s something he hears every morning.Ever since they moved in together he’s always had a warm breakfast to start his day. The blond runs a hand up through his bed-hair although it still resembles his usual hairdo. As he turns over in the bed and rubs at his eyes, he hears light footfalls coming up the stairs. He shivers and pulls the blankets back up around his body just as Zexion strides into the room carrying a wooden tray.
His bright blue eyes stare, unable to blink in fear of missing the sight before him. It’s not the fact that the eyes are done just right, scrambled and fluffy, or the fact that the waffles don’t have a fleck of burnt on them. It’s what Zexion is wearing as he walks forward with the tray coming down to sit on Demyx’s lap. Smiling wide, a smile that touches his eyes, he takes it all in. From the petite, pointed hat on Zexion’s head to the curved shoes with bells on the tips and ankles. Demyx can’t believe his dear Zexion is not only dressed as an elf, but is wearing green.
In his mind only, he dubs this to be the cutest thing he has ever seen. Picking up the fork, he pokes at his eggs. “So this is what you’ve been up to.” He grins even wider, “Come here cutie.”
The glare doesn’t so much as faze Demyx, who begins eating. Zexion merely walks around the other side of the bed and climbs in. “It wasn’t my idea,” he mumbles, blushing softly.
Demyx redirects his gaze away from his plate and to his most precious someone. Leaning towards him, Demyx kisses his cheek. “I think you look cute. My personal, little elf!”
Just as the words leave his lips, Zexion tries to push him away - completely flustered by the statement. As he does, the glass of orange juice on Demyx’s tray sways before tipping over the edge. The liquid spills all over Demyx’s legs; soaking into the blankets and his clothes. Embarrassed to say the least, Zexion keeps his composure as always - moving to pull the tray away and begin gathering the blankets up. Demyx stops him, grabbing Zexion’s hands in his own.
Zexion pulls Demyx forward, both falling back down onto the bed. His hat tumbles off his head as their lips press together, molding expertly until they’re forced to break apart. Demyx’s grin returns at the sight of a minuet smile on Zexion’s face. “You’re the best present ever!” he declares before smashing their lips together once more.