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Akaashi had expected to spend this Christmas day alone- his roommate and close friend, Bokuto, was off visiting extended family somewhere in Japan, and his only other friend, Kuroo, was picking up shifts at the bar he worked at to make extra money.
It wasn’t a huge deal. Kuroo had come over a week ago and they had all exchanged gifts, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t done anything festive at all. Akaashi disliked the amount of stress and preparation and money that needed to be put into Christmas, so he probably wouldn’t have done much for the holiday had his friends been there.
Still, waking up alone in his apartment, heating milk for hot chocolate as he watched the lights flickering outside, couples entwined in each other as they walked- he couldn’t help but feel alone.
Subconsciously, he had used enough milk for two cups, since usually whenever he makes hot drinks Bokuto will want one too. Akaashi frowns as he divides the milk into two cups, stirring in dark chocolate into both. Two cups will likely be a bit too much for him right now, but he could always save a cup for later.
He grabs a cup (this one is black, decorated in small white owls- the gift from Bokuto this year) before settling on the couch, feet tucked underneath him for warmth. It’s warm in his hands, and he sips it slowly, imagining what it would be like if he had someone here to share this with. A friend, maybe, or a lover.
He stirs his drink, deliberating what to do. He had bought a pie and prepared some fried rice yesterday for dinner today, so it wasn't like he had anything to cook. TV might make him more lonely, and he wasn't in the mood to leave the house.
He decides to read instead, padding back into his bedroom to find a book. Just as he’s deciding between two titles, the doorbell rings.
Akaashi thinks it's peculiar- he wasn't expecting anyone today. It could be a last minute delivery.
He’s still in his pajamas- baggy gray sweatpants, a white long sleeve shirt- but it's unlikely that whoever’s at the door cares about his appearance.
The doorbell rings, again, and then a third time, and he slides across the floor. “Coming!” he yells, opening the door.
The person who greets him isn't who he expects.
It's Kozume Kenma, a high school friend he stayed in touch with but wasn't able to see in person often due to distance. But here they are, extending a bag to Akaashi as they say “Let me in, Keiji, it's getting cold.”
Akaashi was, frankly, in shock. “Ah, Kozume-san. I was not expecting you. I apologize for my appearance.” He steps back, opening the door so they can come in.
“I've told you to call me Kenma. We’ve known each other long enough. Also, don't worry about your appearance, I look equally awful.” Kenma grimaced down at his clothes (a baggy red sweatshirt and ripped black jeans), but Akaashi thought he looked cute.
Cute in a platonic way, of course.
“How did you know I was going to be here? Also, why are you in Tokyo anyway?” he asked, placing the bag in the kitchen. Based on its warmth, it was likely food Kenma had bought on the way here. He turns back, finding Kenma grabbing their switch from their backpack and fiddling with it.
“I'm here visiting family,” they say, not lifting their gaze from the screen. “Kuroo had called yesterday and told me to stop by since you were gonna be alone, and now here I am.”
It seemed peculiar for Kenma to go out of their way to visit him, but Akaashi is rather touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Kenma-san.”
Kenma just waves a hand at him. “There's ramen and onigiri in the bag.”
Akaashi nods, grabbing a plate for the onigiri and ramen for both him and Kenma. The cup on the counter catches his eye, and he decided to grab it for them too.
He lays out the food on the table, and it's quiet other than the sounds of eating and occasional beeps from Kenna's controller. Akaashi settles back with a book, as Kenma keeps playing their game, and the peacefulness of the situation rests over Akaashi like a warm blanket.
At some point, it begins snowing outside. Akaashi smiles at it faintly, and tells Kenma, who responds with a small smile.
He isn't sure how long they sit there, suspended in comfortable silence, but eventually Kenma speaks.
“Thank you for the hot chocolate, Keiji.” Their voice is quiet, and it lacks their usual bite. Akaashi looks over, and they are curled in on themself, looking at him with honest eyes. “Do you maybe wanna play a game with me?”
Akaashi can't suppress a smile at that. A while ago, when he had first met Kenma, Kuroo had told him that Kenna's way of opening up to people was to play games with them. Now, here he was- with Kenma asking if he wanted to play a game.
“Of course,” he says, smiling at them. Kenma sets their switch on the coffee table, removing the controls, and Akaashi shuffles closer until their shoulders brush. The contact alone makes him flush, and the small smile Kenma wears does not help his situation.
He's harbored a small crush on Kenma since their third year in high school, when they would study together every weekend. The feelings never really disappeared despite their physical distance. With Kenma so close, Akaashi really just wants to hold their hand.
Instead, he grips his controller, attempting to beat Kenma in Super Smash Bros (and failing miserably). They play dozens of rounds (Akaashi wins twice, and they both feel like pity wins), until Kenma drops their head onto Akaashi’s shoulder.
“‘m tired,” they say with a sigh. Their head is warm weight on Akaashi’s shoulder, and a blush spreads across his face.
“Do you wanna stay the night?” he asks, instead of kissing Kenma’s forehead.
They just mumble in response before turning to cling onto Akaashi, putting their legs in his lap and arms around his shoulders. “Yeah, that's fine.” Kenma holds him tighter, and Akaashi can feel their heartbeat when they say “You're so warm and soft, Keiji.”
That's the final straw for Akaashi- slowly, he brushes Kenma’s bangs back from their head and places a gentle kiss on their forehead. Kenma looks up, drowsy eyes gleaming, and kisses him square on the lips.
Akaashi almost pushes them off in suprise.
“Keijiiii let’s go to bed.”
Akaashi doesn't want to argue, not with his crush, warm and pliant and sleepy in his hands, so he says, “Alright, just let me set up the futon.”
Kenma pinches him at that. “Cmon, Keiji, just cuddle with me, please.”
Akaashi chokes on his own tongue at their bluntness, He walks to the bed, with Kenma half hanging off of him, shutting the door quietly behind him.
“Do you want to get changed?” he asks.
Akaashi feels horrible awkward, grabbing at his fingers as Kenma responds, “Can I just have a t-shirt?”
“Sure,” he says. He grabs an old volleyball t-shirt, throwing it to Kenma and turning around so they can change. After a moment of thought, he takes off his sweatpants (surely Kenma won't mind, right?) since he isn't feeling as cold tonight.
When he turns back around, Kenma has pulled on them sweatshirt and taken off his jeans, leaving them in Akaashi's shirt (adorably oversized) and boxers.
“You look really cute,” says Akaashi, before he can stop himself.
Kenma blushes at that, red spreading down to sharp collarbones and exposed shoulders. “Thanks, Keiji,” they say.
They offer a hand to him, and Akaashi takes it before they both fall into bed.
“I've never…. felt comfortable cuddling with someone before, so tell me if I'm not doing something right,” Kenma mumbles.
Akaashi reaches over to turn off the light before turning to face them. “Kenma, you're fine, I promise.” He kisses their forehead gently, savoring the way the touch feels so intimate. He isn't sure what they are right now exactly, but Akaashi likes it here. “Is it alright if I throw an arm around your waist?”
“Yeah, of course,” they respond. and Akaashi pulls an arm around them. Kenma buries their face in his chest and lets out a pleasant sigh. Their legs tangle as Akaashi pulls the blanket over them, and he feels so undeniably whole and warm and loved.
“Goodnight, Kenma,” he whispers.
“‘G’night Keiji.”
Their breathing evens out rapidly, and Akaashi observes their peaceful state.
Maybe Christmas isn't so bad after all.