Chapter Text
If Dio has to deal with one more idiot trying to coax him into a date for Christmas, he’s going to throw something. Probably a knife, or a fork. Sighing, Dio stands up quickly when the professor finally releases the class from the hour-long test, even though every other teacher lets their students leave as soon as the test was completed. Shoving his book into his shoulder bag, he pulls it over his head and strides out of the classroom, only to come to a stop in surprise.
“Oh, Dio!” Johanna chirps sweetly, jogging over to him with a smile.
“Jojo,” he greets back, internally screaming as the woman of his dreams stands before him. She looks down shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she fidgets with her sweaterdress.
“Are you, um, doing something? Later, I mean?” she asks, looking up at him from under her lashes. Despite what he thought earlier, Dio huffs, grasping her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, smirking at her pretty flush.
“For you, my dear Jojo, I have all the time in the world,” he purrs, mentally patting himself on the back when Johanna’s flush darkens.
“Uh, well, w-would you like to come with me to the campus Christmas party? Y-you can say no! If you want!” she stutters, so obviously flustered from his flirtations. Dio hums, as he knows he told Pucci that he didn’t want to go to the campus Christmas party, as most of the people he turned down would be there. However, he wants to be with Johanna every chance he can get.
“Or!” she cuts off his thought, catching his attention easily, “We can go somewhere else? Like a café or something…” Johanna trails off, her face flushed red. Dio blinks before smirking, leaning forward to catch a section of her hair, startling her.
“I’ll send you an address,” he tells her, bringing her hair up to his lips, pride burning through him at the enchanted look on Johanna’s face.
“O-okay,” she agrees, taking a step forward to his surprise before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Despite the flush still on her cheeks, she gives him a wide smile, chirping, “It’s a date!” Dio watches as Jojo practically skips away from him, his brain chugging like an old computer. Pucci and his brother walk up behind him, his friend looking at him curiously.
“Dio? Are you okay?” Pucci asks, blinking when Dio spins to grasp his friend’s shoulders.
“Jojo just declared that we’re going on a date for Christmas. Where do I take her?” Dio demands, panicking. Pucci blinks again while his brother peers over his shoulder.
“There’s a light display at the zoo. It’s open till eight on Christmas Eve and opens at five on Christmas day,” the brother says, Dio now kicking himself for never asking Pucci for his brother’s name as he can’t properly thank the other man.
“Thank you,” Dio says, nodding once and spinning to start making his plans. This Christmas, he’s not getting a gift from Jojo, he’s getting her hand in his and his lips on hers instead.
Caesar wakes up with a start as a heavy weight slams on his stomach.
“Good morning, Caesarino,” Josephine purrs, wiggling on his still covered body. Caesar blinks over her head, his brain still half asleep, before groaning and trying to roll over. Josephine whine, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to prevent him from actually managing to roll completely over.
“Caeeesaaar,” Jojo whines, her feet kicking against his cover while Caesar contemplates just throwing Jojo off him. Instead, he sighs and sits up, rubbing at his eyes.
“What is it, Jo…jo…” he trails off, when he finally sees his girlfriend. She grins at him from under the faux-white beard on her face, a Santa hat settled on her hat as the rest of the Santa costume is obviously ill fitting on her.
“Merry Christmas!” she tells him, trying to deepen her voice to sound like an old man. Caesar chokes, cackling at how absurd she looks as he throws an arm over his eyes. Josephine wiggles happily on his hips, obviously pleased with herself.
“Oh Cara, never change,” he gasps, a grin on his face even as he peers up at her from under his arm. Jojo snickers, pulling off the beard and dropping it off the side of the bed.
“Well, that’ll be a bit tricky,” she hums, pulling off the mittens that Caesar missed when he looked at her. He hums, watching curiously as those hands rise to undo the buttons of the coat, only to inhale sharply as it is pulled away to reveal a sexy Santa dress underneath. Jojo smiles and coos, “Because then you won’t be able to see part of your present.”
“Mama mia,” he breaths, watching avidly as Josephine drags the pants off her legs, leaving her in red lace tights while giving Caesar a peek at emerald green garters used to hold the tights up. Jojo hums again, tilting her head with a smile that screams sex.
“Do you want to unwrap me?” she croons, leaning down so her breasts press against his chest. Caesar swallows and nods vigorously, his hands already rising to grasp her hips. Suddenly, Jojo slides off him, and off the bed, skipping to the kitchen with a wag of her finger, “Sorry, Caesarino! But I gotta make breakfast first!” Sitting up in bed, he’s never been more conflicted about the open floor plan of his apartment. It lets him watch Jojo pull on a candycane apron with ‘I’ve been naughty’ written across her breasts in white cursive, but it also reminds Caesar that his dick is rock hard under the covers.
“Do you want cinnamon rolls, Caesar? I made some dough last night,” Josephine calls to him, pulling out said dough as she brings out the cinnamon sugar they have in his cabinets for any occasion that calls for it.
“Sure,” he chokes out, cursing his hormones to hell and back. Jojo gives him a sunny smile before returning to cooking, her movement slow and deliberate. Swallowing, Caesar rises from the bed, walking past the tree and presents in the corner, glad the window is covered as his hard cock bounces with each step.
“Bella, mia cara, you’re killing me,” he moans, stepping around the small divider between the bedroom/living room and the kitchen, only to wheeze at the sight of white lace panties as Jojo bends over to pull out a bowl. She pops back up with a chipper grin, giving him an exaggerated wink.
“Behave and we’ll have a real jolly time,” she purrs, swinging her hips as she sets the bowl on the counter and dumps in two sticks of softened butter. Caesar grits his teeth, swearing to show her just how patient he can be before he unwraps her and plays with her for most of the day.
Kars wakes up to wailing. While it’s not unusual for him to wake to such noise, it’s usually indistinguishable noise instead of off-key, horrid singing. Sitting up, he pushes his hair out of his face as he looks to the side, seeing that Esidisi is already up and hearing what sounds like his husband and Wamuu singing a Christmas song rather loudly. It takes a minute to unwrap himself from his warm prison of blankets and sheets, but Kars manages to escape and trudge into the living room. He fights back the urge to smile at the sight of Esidisi bouncing Santana in one arm while his other hand is held by both of Wamuu’s, their ten year old son standing on one of Esidisi’s feet as he dances them around the room.
“What have I awoken to?” Kars asks, chuckling when Wamuu practically leaps off Esidisi’s foot to throw himself around Kars’ legs.
“Morning Papa!” Wamuu chirps, beaming up at Kars, “Merry Crisis!” Immediately, Kars looks up at his husband, who is suddenly very interested in Santana gnawing on his little hand.
“Esidisi,” Kars intones, trying to sound angry at his husband for encouraging their son to copy Josephine’s speech patter. However, it fails, as even he finds the mispronunciation to be humorous.
“In my defense,” his husband offers with a sheepish grin, “Jojo’s hilarious on occasion, and that was one of them.” Kars sighs, recluctantly agreeing with his husband as he takes Santana out of Esidisi’s arms and carries him to the kitchen.
“That doesn’t matter for now,” he finally says, “What matters is breakfast before presents. I’m making pancakes.”
“Can I have chocolate chips in mine, please?” Wamuu asks, practically jumping in his excitement.
“Ooo! Me too! Me too!” Esidisi cheers, draping himself over Kars’ shoulders with a wide grin. Kars huffs, turning his head to press a kiss to Esidisi’s cheek before turning to the batter, smirking at the whine his husband releases into his shoulder, his tan ear burning red with the cutest blush.
“Chocolate chips for everyone,” Kars deadpans, even as Wamuu starts to ask why Esidisi is turning red.
Kakyoin blinks awake slowly, the warm weight of Jotaro on his chest. Looking down at his girlfriend, he’s unable to hold off a sleepy smile at her smushed face. Hierophant Green appears above him, moving silently to the kitchen as Kakyoin basks in his girlfriend’s presence. It only takes a few minutes, but the scent of coffee slowly rouses Jotaro from her sleep.
“Good morning, Jojo,” Kakyoin whispers, the soft atmosphere made by the glow of the Christmas tree lights and the sound of soft piano music from the radio clock they have. Jotaro hums, pressing her face closer to his heart as Star Platinum appears, sleepily looping their arms around his neck and nuzzling into his hair, their breast pressing against his arm. If this had been a few years back, before they graduated high school, he’d have been a hormonal wreck. Now, he just presses a kiss to Jotaro’s head and gently pushes against her, trying to escape the bed to make breakfast. She whines while Star Platinum tries to hold him against the bed, only for both to fail to keep him under the covers. Chuckling, Kakyoin pads quietly into the kitchen, preparing pancakes for them. He hums along with the music as he mixes the batter together, buttering the pan and starting on the first pancakes. Soon, he has a stack of pancakes prepared, settled on a plate waiting for them to start eating.
“Jojo, it’s time to get up,” he calls, walking back to the bedroom only to pause and smile. Jotaro seems to have fallen back to sleep, cuddling with Star Platinum as the blankets have twisted around her legs. Chuckling again, Kakyoin walks forward as Hierophant Green floats over Star Platinum, green tendrils gently wrapping around one of the Stand’s wrists to free their user.
“Come on, Jotaro. Get up,” Kakyoin gently prods, yelping when her arm lashes out around his waist to pull him back into bed.
“Ten more minutes,” she mumbles against his collar bone, cuddling him like a doll or pillow. Huffing, Kakyoin wiggles just enough that his arms are free enough to get his fingers at her ribs. Immediately, Jotaro yelps and tries to escape his fingers while Star Platinum wriggles under Hierophant Green’s tendrils that are tickling them as well.
“Noriaki,” Jotaro grunts, squirming until she finally crawls out of bed, grumbling, “I’m up. I’m up.”
“Good,” he chirps, rolling off the bed again and walking around to watch as his girlfriend struggles up to her feet and sways, blinking drowsily at the wall. Huffing, Kakyoin tilts his head, watching in amusement as Jotaro slowly turns to face him, shuffling over to him and draping herself on his back.
“Drag me to the kitchen,” she mumbles into his neck, her hands lacing together on his chest. Huffing again, he grasps her arms and complies, always amused at how terrible Jotaro is if awoken at any time that’s not five or nine in the morning. Then again, that was just another part of Jotaro’s cuter side.
Polnareff is dancing around the room, humming a Christmas song as Abdul watches in amusement. The French man spins and twirls, making sure to hit poses that face Abdul, if only to wink at him or show him a heart with his hands. Chuckling, Abdul pets Iggy, who’s laying on his lap and huffing as if irritated. The little Boston Terrier is wearing a red collar with holly stitched into the fabric while Polnareff is hanging more decorations around their apartment.
“Baby, all I want for Christmas is you,” Polnareff croons, sliding across the floor to lean down and kiss Abdul. Huffing in amusement, Abdul sets Iggy onto the couch and stands, surprising his boyfriend by sweeping him up into a dance. Even if it doesn’t match the pace of the song, Abdul smiles at the smitten look Polnareff gives him, eagerly swaying in time with him.
“Are you almost done, or do I need to stay out of the way for a while longer?” Abdul asks, chuckling at Polnareff’s sheepish grin.
“Give me the chance to hang up the Christmas welcome sign on our door, and I’m done,” he confesses. Nodding, Abdul lets go of Polnareff, chuckling at the French man’s pout before he turns for the sign. Glancing at the side of the room, Abdul smiles as Magician’s Red leads Silver Chariot in a waltz, glad to know that their souls are dancing even if they can’t dance at the time.
“Okay, I’m done,” Polnareff declares, hurrying over to Abdul and grasps his boyfriend’s hands, pulling him into another dance. Abdul laughs at Polnareff’s eagerness as Iggy hops off the couch and trots off to the bedroom, obviously aiming to sleep in the middle of their king-sized bed.
Josuke blows as much hot air in her hands, glancing at the bag hanging on her arm. She drew Rohan’s name from the hat that Koichi had for Secret Santa in their “friend” group (is it really a friend group if it includes an asshole that you’re maybe-sort of-kind of attracted to?) and that left her floundering for what to do. Eventually, with the help of Jojo and Jotaro, she found a high-quality sketchbook, a set of colored inks for his special pieces, and some expensive pens. And she may have done something to the sketchbook after Jojo mentioned personalizing things, but that’s unimportant.
“He better appreciate what I got him,” she grumbles, as she storms up his porch. Practically punching his doorbell, she fidgets nervously as she waits for Rohan to open the door so she can shove the gift at him and flee.
“What are you doing here, Kujo?” Rohan asks, making Josuke jump in shock. Spinning around, she slams her back against the door while blinking owlishly at the mangaka.
“W-what are you doing out here?” she squeaks, blushing brightly as he raises his eyebrow at her.
“I live here,” he points out. Josuke chokes before shoving the bag into his hand.
“MerryChristmashappyholidaysRohanI’mgoinghomenowbye,” she tells him, moving to sprint away only to shriek when Heaven’s Door appears before her. The Stand smiles at her and points behind her, confusing Josuke until the door behind her gives way and she nearly falls into Rohan’s house.
“Don’t you want to see how I feel about your gift? Or is it so terrible that you know I’ll hate it,” he demands to know, looking down his nose at Josuke. She scowls up at Rohan, staggering to her feet before spinning to march into the house.
“Fine! I’ll watch you fall in love with my presents!” she huffs, realizing that she took his bait when Rohan closes the door behind him, leaving her in the house with the mangaka.
“Excellent. I can’t wait to hate them,” Rohan deadpans, walking into his living room. Taking a deep breath, Josuke follows the older man, keeping an eye on Heaven’s Door as the Stand seems to happily float beside her. They arrive at the couch, Rohan dropping onto the furniture dramatically.
“Well?” he drawls, motioning at the chair across from him. Josuke drops into the chair as dramatically as she can, holding back a wince at the bruise that’s sure to form. Rohan snorts and riffles through the bag, his eyebrows both going up in surprise as he looks at the items.
“These are quite nice,” he reluctantly admits, pulling out the inks first. Josuke sits up straighter, smiling smugly at Rohan’s scowl. However, he smirks as he pulls out the pen, holding it up to her.
“I have one of these,” he tells her. Josuke huffs, red crossing her face as she looks away.
“Well, now you have an extra one,” she snaps, crossing her arms defensively. Rohan grins as he pulls out the notebook, looking down at it thoughtfully.
“I had been meaning to purchase a new notebook,” he mumbles, his eyes quickly flicking up in shock, letting Josuke know he didn’t mean to say it outloud. She grins at him, practically singing, “Merry Christmas.”
“Fine, you did a good job with your gift choice, now, out of my house,” he orders. Josuke complies, practically skipping when she hears the notebook flip open and a confused noise. Easily recalling that she had taken the time to carefully draw Rohan and Heaven’s Door on the first page, with Christmas wishes as well, she bolts out of the house, sprinting down the street as she hears Rohan yelling for her to get back there. She runs five blocks before skidding to a halt, gasping for air as Crazy Diamond finally comes out, fretting over her hair and clothes, her own Stand feeling the embarrassment she now feels.
“Can you please kick my ass?” she requests from her Stand, only for the pink being to immediately flail about and fret over her even more.
Mista kinda wants to puke, his nerves clawing up his throat as he fidgets with the present he got for Giorno. It’s simple, but elegant like she is, and hopefully, it will be good enough for her. The door to the apartment she shares with Trish opens, making Mista stand up straight, only to choke on his next breath.
“So, where are we going?” Giorno asks cutely, her large coat bundling her warmly as the matching knit hat, scarf, and mittens makes her look like a little doll that Mista wants to hide from the world.
“Uh-um, I-I thought we should go to the lake! Th-they have ice skate rentals there! And hot chocolate!” he blurts out, internally cursing himself as his plan to surprise her flew right out the window as soon as she stepped out. Giorno claps her hands, smiling up at him.
“Well, lead the way, Mista,” she encourages, waving at her roommate before linking arms with Mista. He fights to not trip over his feet as Giorno makes confident strides toward the lake, once again wondering how he got so lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend.
“Oh, I just remembered,” Giorno says, startling him. Mista turns to look at her as she rifles through her pockets, pulling out a keychain and dropping it in his hand.
“It’s a little something to tide you over till I can hand you the real present,” Giorno tells him. He looks at the keychain, thumbing through the blond kittens until he counts six of them.
“You got me little kitty Sex Pistols,” he squeaks. Giorno blushes cutely, burrowing her face in the scarf.
“Well, I saw it, and I remembered you talking about your cat playing with the Sex Pistols,” she mumbles, squeaking herself when he pulls her into a hug.
“This is the best thing, thank you, Giogio,” he wheezes, his heart feeling so light and happy that she pays attention to his rambles. Remembering his own present, he lets her go and starts fumbling with his pockets.
“Hang on, I got you something too,” he grumbles, trying to remember what pocket her gift was in. He ignores Giorno’s attempts to tell him that he didn’t need to, crowing in victory upon finding it. A silver star with a pink stone in the center dangles on a silver chain, his own little present before he gets to give Giorno her actual present.
“Here we go!” he chirps, gently laying the necklace in Giorno’s hands. She looks at it in awe, her turquoise eyes shining like precious gems.
“It’s pretty,” Giorno breaths, making Mista grin. Beautiful is reserved for her mother, her brother and father, her aunts, for Mista when they’re being intimate. Pretty is for everything else, because nothing is more beautiful to Giorno than the life of those she loves. He hops happily at the high praise from his girlfriend.
“Turn around so I can put it on you,” he pleads, making Giorno look up at him with a smile. She nods and hands the necklace back, giving Mista her back while lifting her braid. He clips the necklace on and spins her back around, beaming at how it looks so good on her.
“You look fantastic,” he tells her, offering his arm to her, continuing their walk to the lake, where a little velvet box is waiting for Mista to make Giorno his fiancée.
Abbacchio nuzzles Bruno’s neck as they idly watch a Christmas movie. He doesn’t remember the plot, he barely remembers the character’s names, and he finds the whole damn movie to be stupid. But he’s with Bruno, who’s fallen asleep on the sofa with him, so he can’t bring himself to give a damn. A commercial break cuts through the movie, a notch louder than the movie itself, which unfortunately wakes Bruno.
“Abba? Is the movie over?” he asks, fighting back a yawn.
“No, not yet,” Abbacchio admits, finally shifting so his arm is around Bruno’s shoulders instead of trapped between them. The dark-haired man hums, nuzzling into his shoulder now as his blue eyes flutter.
“Oh, okay,” Bruno mutters softly, his breath blowing across Abbacchio’s neck, making the other man shiver from something other than the cold. If they were at Abbacchio’s apartment, he’d have already offered to take this cuddle session up to the next level in his bed. Unfortunately, they’re at the Joestar mansion, where most of Bruno’s adopted family still hang out for the Christmas season. He’d rather not deal with Bruno’s overprotective father right now, thanks. Suddenly, a pair of lips presses against his throat, making Abbacchio inhale sharply.
“How about we go to my room? Mama promised that the sound proofing would be in by October,” Bruno offers, his voice heavy with sleep and the curling lust that means Abbacchio will get to pamper his boyfriend for once.
“Let’s go then,” he agrees, turning off the television and sweeping Bruno up into his arms, getting a giggle from the dark-haired man. If they wake up on Christmas morning to angry yelling from Bruno’s father… Well, that’s for another time.
Diavolo fusses over the Santa suit he’s wearing, Doppio helping straighten it out as Donatella helps keep Trish distracted.
“Do you think this will work?” Diavolo asks, looking at his partner. Doppio sighs, a smile curling his lips as he pats Diavolo’s back.
“I would think so. She’s only three,” he points out. Diavolo nods, his hands fidgeting in the Santa mitts as they wait for Donatella’s queue.
“…it must be Saint Nick,” she reads to Trish. Immediately, Diavolo opens the door, reaching vocally to the lowest he can go.
“Hohoho! Merry Christmas!” he rumbles. Donatella looks up with a smile, but poor Trish, looks up at him in horror. Doppio peeks around Diavolo and winces as their little girl starts sobbing, wailing about making the scary man leave, how she wants her Papa and Daddy instead. Sighing, Donatella spins Trish around to cuddle her, patting her back soothingly, as Doppio does the same to Diavolo, who’s sobbing from scaring his daughter.
“I don’t think this worked out all that well,” Doppio jokes, making Donatella sigh and smile at him good naturedly.
“You think?” she asks, lightly bouncing Trish in her arms.
Jolyne slides past another idiot with mistletoe, watching as he kisses another guy’s bicep instead of her. She keeps walking through the party, ignoring the fight now breaking out because of the kiss. Ermes and Anasui were both forced to come to this party due to their bosses threatening them, so Jolyne’s here to pick them up.
“Hey, Rikiel!” Jolyne calls, waving at her nephew-in-law. The man turns, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“Jolyne, Merry Christmas,” he greets. She grins at him, patting his arm.
“Merry Christmas to you too. I was wondering if you had seen Ermes and Anasui anywhere? I’m their ride homes,” she asks. Rikiel frowns, humming as he scans the heads of people around them before his face lights up.
“They’re over by the table, with Ungalo. It looks like they might be a little drunk though,” he tells her. Jolyne sighs, unsurprised at those words.
“Thanks, Rikiel. Tell your mom I said hi!” she calls back as she starts to walk toward the table. The man waves her off, disappearing back into the crowd as Jolyne makes her way to the table, now hearing Ungalo’s ugly laughs and what sounds like Ermes repeating the Beer Cat story.
“Alrighty, that’s enough out of you,” Jolyne scolds while swiping the beer Ermes was obviously still drinking, not even blinking when Anasui flings himself at her with a happy wail. Ermes pauses her retelling to grab at the air, confused where her beer can went, before turning her head and a grin lighting up her features as well.
“Jojo!” she crows, draping herself onto Jolyne’s front. Sighing, she looks at her other nephew-in-law.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on them,” she thanks him. He waves her off, wiping at the tears that are still flowing from how hard he was laughing.
“No problem, Jolyne. It was mostly me trying to get stories from them, after Enrico mentioned a few things without elaborating,” Ungalo admits.
“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Jolyne agrees, leaning down to heft Anasui onto her back as his legs give out on him completely, “See you New Years?”
“Yeah, I’ll be able to make it this year,” he tells her, coaxing Ermes to drape her arm over Jolyne’s shoulder. Jolyne gives him a wink before walking out of the party, careful to not jostle her passenger and hanger-on.
“Jojo,” Anasui drunkenly croons, “I missed you. Ermes and I, we-we were thinkin’ ‘bout how to make ya’ smile.”
“Oh yeah?” Jolyne replies, trudging through the snow easily.
“Mm-hmm,” Ermes answers for Anasui, “And we decided, that we need sexy Santa lingerie fer me to wear. I’d look real nice in the skirt. Oh, and I’d need stockings.” Jolyne snorts, opening the back door to her four-door car and gently pushing Ermes in. Her girlfriend falls onto the seat with huff, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like a flirtation at the leather seat itself.
“An’ we’d get me a Santa suit. The tight one, so the pants would hug my ass. Maybe get some suspenders, so you can pull me around if I took off the coat,” Anasui continues as Jolyne carefully slides him off her back to get into the car. Once sure both her boyfriend and girlfriend are securely buckled in, Jolyne closes the door, and laughs at how obviously sloshed her partners are. More often than not, neither of them want to dress up in costumes when Jolyne talks about roleplaying, leaving her to pout until they fuck her stupid. If they were talking about costumes, they had to be sloshed. Calming her laughter down, Jolyne enters the driver’s side and turns on the car, heading back to their apartment.
“So, do I get a costume?” she asks. Immediately, they both told her no and why she would be the only one naked, with Ermes saying that Jolyne can crawl under her skirt while Anasui mentioned Jolyne using the coat on his suit as a dress. Jolyne hums, nodding along as she drives them back to their apartment, mentally counting how much water she should leave out and which headache medicine to use for them when they wake up.
Gyro wakes to smoke and the smell of burning. Immediately, he leaps out of bed, startling Diego, and searches for Jonny’s wheelchair.
“Wha’ da fu’k’s on fire?” Diego slurs, squinting at the smoke over the bed.
“Not important right now, we need to wake up Jonny and get out,” Gyro says, glad he got all the pictures of their major belongings and presents sent to the insurance agent last week. Diego grunts as panic builds in Gyro’s gut, unable to find Jonny’s wheelchair anywhere in the room.
“Where is it?” he hisses, throwing open the closet when a thud sounds from the hall outside. Diego finally rolls out of bed, opening the door and gagging as the burnt smell now permeates the bedroom. Sitting in the hall is Jonny, a charred black thing on a plate in her lap as she pouts in her wheelchair.
“I tried to make breakfast,” she quietly tells them, her eyes staying on the coal that sits on the plate. Gyro blinks before sighing, stumbling over to Jonny and throwing his arms around her.
“Oh tesoro, mi hai spaventato. Don’t scare me like that, please,” Gyro pleads, looking at her imploringly. Jonny blushes, nodding sheepishly as Diego squints at her before turning to Gyro.
“Did you miss that Jonny wasn’t in bed when you started looking for her wheelchair?” the jockey asks. Gyro immediately lets go of their girlfriend to shove open the windows, hiding his warming face from the two blonds. He hears Jonny’s tinkling laughter as Diego snickers at his obvious morning stupidity.
“Diego, can you please let me help making Christmas breakfast?” Jonny asks, obviously trying to save Gyro’s stupid ass. It seems to work as the Brit helps their girlfriend roll back to the kitchen, but not without sending a smirk over his shoulder to Gyro. Sighing, he leans his head back with a pout, disappointed with his own morning stupidity.
“I’m going to hide Diego’s present,” Gyro decides to himself, nodding once and leaving the room, sneaking into the living room to shove Diego’s presents into the closet.
Yasuho hums softly, hanging another ornament on the tree as Joserin works on wrapping up some of the presents that they’ve already purchased. There’s a pause behind her as she reaches for a newer ornament before she feels a pair of arms encircle her waist and a chin rest on her shoulder.
“Do you think I could pull off a Santa suit? With the beard and pillow tummy?” Joserin asks, her head tilted to make eye contact with Yasuho. Pressing her lips together as she fights back a snort, Yasuho takes a deep breath and looks at her girlfriend.
“Why do you ask?” she asks, taking a step away to make proper eye contact with Joserin. The other girl hums, tilting her head from side to side.
“Josephine mentioned wearing a Santa suit for Caesar and she said it was super romantic. Maybe I could do that for us,” Joserin mentions. Yasuho immediately spins away and wheezes, hearing her girlfriend worry over her. While seeing Joserin wear a Santa suit would be adorable, especially when she’s acting sweet, but Yasuho’s pretty sure she overheard Caesar complaining to Rohan and her cousin Koichi about how Josephine had a lingerie Santa dress on underneath her suit.
“That- I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what was considered romantic,” Yasuho finally manages to choke out, taking deep breaths as Joserin tilts her head to the side, seemingly confused about what Yasuho could be talking about. Clearing her throat, Yasuho briefly considers no explaining what she means before sighing.
“I’m pretty sure I overheard Caesar mention that Josephine had lingerie underneath that were Santa themed,” she explains. Joserin blinks again, before she makes a noise of understanding.
“Then you can wear that while I’ve got the suit!” Joserin says with a nod. Yasuho chokes, her face flushing brightly while her girlfriend, once again, worries over her. Imaging her girlfriend wearing a loose Santa suit while she’s wearing a Santa lingerie set should not turn her on as quickly as it has.
“Yasuho? Are you okay?” Joserin asks, finally catching her face in her hands. Yasuho blinks, looking at the blue and green eyes that are shining with worry. Sighing, she nuzzles into Joserin’s hands, enjoying the warmth of her girlfriend.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I just got a little flustered with a thought. Don’t worry too much,” she tries to assure Joserin, although the frown on her girlfriend’s face tells her that she doesn’t believe her.
“Alright, sit down. I’ll hang the rest of the ornaments up,” Joserin instructs. Yasuho opens her mouth, about to argue that Joserin did enough, with putting up the tree and pulling all the decorations from storage, but closes her mouth with a sigh.
“Okay, okay,” Yasuho agrees, sitting down before the still unwrapped presents, watching as Joserin plucks up one of the ornaments. She guiltily imagines Joserin in the Santa lingerie, flushing at the very thought of her long legs being wrapped in fishnet stockings, a cute dress cupping her breasts sexily while a little hat rests on her head. Dropping her head to the table, Yasuho bites her bottom lip to hold back a groan. Her girlfriend needs to stop saying things that turns on her horny brain, especially during this time of the year.