Chapter Text
November 1, 20XX
It’s not even December yet.
Mako pounds on the door. He’s just glad that the Christmas carol playing is more tenor than bass or the asshole on the other side of the door would never know he was at the door. The music doesn’t pause, but he hears the scrape of the deadbolt before a man with “beanpole” written all over him opens the door. He’s tall and thin and has the sharpest smile that Mako has ever seen.
“Come to deck my halls with boughs of holly?” the man asks, his thick eyebrows waggling in a way Mako has only seen in cartoons.
“I’ll deck something if you don’t turn that racket down,” Mako replies gruffly.
The young man eyes Mako, his grin never faltering. “Righto!” Mako wonders if he’s thinking of whether he can take him.
Mako snorts before he turns away and heads back down to his own apartment.
He’s just settled down again and hit play on his movie when “Santa Baby” starts blasting above him, even louder than before.
He’s going to kill him.