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The universe is fucking with him.
Izumi’s not quite sure how he ended up in this situation—a whirlwind of events kickstarted by Leo’s suggestion that they visit their friends in Japan for the holidays quickly spiraled out of control, leaving Izumi in a horrendously unflattering Santa suit surrounded by children and in a local mall. The itchy fake beard is just the icing on the cake.
Merry Christmas Eve.
“Smile, Secchan~” Ritsu says, and without looking Izumi can already perfectly picture his stupid, shit-eating grin.
Izumi smiles, but it’s a tight, forced sort of smile that promises retribution later. “Trees don’t talk, Kuma-kun.”
Another ridiculous detail to add to the ever-growing list of ridiculous details—why does the Christmas tree have to be a person, anyway? Ritsu is just standing there in all his LED, tinsel-y glory doing nothing. Nothing except verbally poking and prodding at Izumi and his already shortened temper.
But Izumi sets all that aside for now with an over the top jolly laugh as the next child in line scampers over to him. This job might be the worst gig he’s had in years (and he’s taken a lot of shitty gigs during his time abroad), but he’s a professional, so he’s going to be the best Santa Claus or perish in the process.
The little girl on his lap giggles as he works through the mall Santa script. It’s automatic at this point, and the thought of accidentally asking Leo if he’s been a good boy this year the next time his boyfriend inevitably throws himself onto Izumi’s lap is mortifying.
The girl—Hana, six years old, wants a doggy—chatters on in the spirited, somewhat incomprehensible way children tend to until the jingling of way too many bells draws her attention to an annoyingly cute elf.
“Say uchuu~ ☆”
An annoyingly cute alien elf, apparently.
Izumi’s annoyingly cute alien elf.
Tsukasa snaps the photo, and Izumi is one step closer to freedom.
(One step closer to a night with Leo, to their first Christmas as a couple.)
“Secchan has a sappy look on his face.”
Ah, there it is again. The urge to inflict violence.
Arashi unwittingly saves Ritsu by sending the next child in line his way, and Izumi is back in Santa-mode.
An hour later, Izumi leans back and lets his head meet the chair with a groan. He faintly registers everyone around him packing up now that the children are gone. Everyone except—
Ritsu yelps as Izumi finally, finally gets to push him over. The tree costume is well padded, so there’s no risk of serious injury, but that also means that Ritsu won’t be getting up by himself any time soon.
Ominous jingling wipes the smug look from Izumi’s face. That, and the green-orange blur that barrels into him like a runaway train.
“Santa, Santa~” Leo sings, like he hasn’t just knocked the wind out of him. “Gimme a present!”
As it turns out, that mortifying thought from earlier manifests sooner and more publicly than expected because Izumi’s mouth is moving before his brain has time to register what’s happening. “Have you been a good boy this year?”
“Yep!” Leo replies, not missing a beat. He swings his candy cane striped legs back and forth, settling in Izumi’s lap like a king would his throne.
The sight is almost enough to distract Izumi from the words he just uttered.
“Get off,” he says, giving a halfhearted shove and pointedly ignoring the snickering of a tree that’s supposed to be silent.
Leo doesn’t budge. “I’ve been good, so Santa has to give me a present.”
“You’re not a child, so no. Now get off.”
That’s what Izumi says, and he means it, but he also knows he’s weak when it comes to Leo. One pout crumbles his all of his defenses.
(“Whipped,” a traitorous voice that sounds suspiciously tree-like says in his mind.)
“Fine, fine. What do you want for Christmas, Leo-kun?” he asks.
Leo looks down at him and smiles before leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Wahaha~ Thanks, Santa!”
If nothing else, the fake beard will hopefully hide the indignant flush of his cheeks. “You—we’re still in public, idiot.”
“The kids are gone, though,” Leo says, “and Suo and Naru left to get changed.”
Izumi sighs, snaking an arm around Leo’s waist to pull him closer. “Then at least kiss me properly.”
And, well, Izumi never imagined himself making out with someone while wearing a Santa costume, but life with Leo is full of surprises. He’s in the middle of tasting the hot chocolate he spied Leo drinking earlier when—
“Mommy, what is Santa doing with that elf?”
Shit.
—
One convoluted excuse and too many hours later, Izumi flops onto the plush hotel bed with less grace than he cares to admit. It’s late now, and exhaustion is finally catching up to him. He could fall asleep like this—face buried in the comforter, legs dangling over the edge of the mattress—but there’s still one more thing he has to do.
“Leo-kun,” he says, dragging himself up. His efforts are rewarded by the sight of pale, freckled skin as Leo tugs a tacky Christmas sweater over his head. Izumi lets himself admire his trim waist, the taut lines of his stomach, the faded marks from the last time they—
“Sena.” Leo gives him a teasing, knowing look as he shuffles out of his pants.
Izumi rolls his eyes at the exaggerated wink that follows. “Put on a shirt before you catch a cold.”
“Okay, mom,” Leo quips, barely dodging the pillow Izumi throws at him and blowing a kiss in retaliation.
Cute.
Izumi’s nightly routine takes a fair bit of time—being beautiful is hard work, after all—but he eventually crawls beneath the covers with a sigh of relief. He sits with his back to the headboard next to Leo, close enough that their legs and shoulders touch, and it’s nice. Even after several months of shared beds and intimacy, the concept of wanting someone in his space still feels foreign. Leo’s head finds Izumi’s shoulder, and Izumi reflects on how Leo’s always been like this. Open with his affection, even when Izumi was all harsh words and cold indifference. But now Izumi leans into the touch, feels the softness of Leo’s hair tickling his cheek.
There’s a multitude of unspoken words that still get caught in Izumi’s throat, even now. Apologies and regrets and other ugly things from the past, but there’s gratitude and affirmation and love, too. One day, Izumi will find the strength to verbalize all of those messy, complicated feelings, but for now he presses a neatly wrapped gift into Leo’s hands and watches pretty green eyes light up with excitement.
“Merry Christmas,” Izumi says. It’s probably not midnight yet, but they have a long day tomorrow and he can already feel himself dozing off.
A soft gasp leaves Leo’s lips as he opens the unwrapped box, revealing a knit navy scarf. The pattern stitched into it is familiar—a light blue double trim with a line of crosses. Leo hasn’t worn his old jacket since graduating Yumenosaki, but he had been fond of hiding his face beneath its wide collar.
Leo unfurls the scarf, holding it to his chest, and Izumi feels a warmth unfurling in his own chest as a result.
“Thank you, Sena,” he says. “I love you.”
“You’re welcome.” I love you, too.
The envelope Leo hands him is heavier than expected.
“Merry Christmas, Sena~”
Regardless of its weight, Izumi opens the flap and expects to find a neatly written composition. He’s not disappointed, but there’s something else, too.
“A star?”
A certificate for a star, to be more precise. And a map.
Leo nods. “A star,” he confirms.
“Why?”
“Because Sena’s always been my guiding star,” he says, reaching for Izumi’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “Without you, I would’ve quit being an idol way before Knights. I wouldn’t have met Suo or Rittsu or Naru. I… you know I wasn’t good at making friends. I was stupid and naive, but you took care of me anyway. You showed me how fun idol work could be. I had a lot of fun with you, Sena. I had so much fun, I don’t think I can ever repay you for all those precious memories.”
Izumi stares at their joined hands, flashes of bygone days playing in his mind like a film. They were younger, their eyes brighter, shoulders not yet bearing the burdens of the war and their sins. “Stupid,” he says, but his voice is impossibly fond, even to his own ears. “You don’t… have to repay me for anything. You were the one who—”
“The one who hurt you,” Leo cuts him off. “The one who ran away. I won’t run again, though. I want to stay by your side. So consider this gift a promise, okay? I want to be your star this time.”
You already are.
Leo’s eyes are wet, tears threatening to spill over, and Izumi is hit with an overwhelming urge to kiss him.
So he does.
Izumi sighs into the kiss, his free hand coming up to cup Leo’s cheek, thumb brushing away the unshed tears. Then Leo is laughing, and Izumi pulls away to admire the flush of his porcelain skin, the light dancing in his eyes and the hint of sharp, pointed teeth between reddened lips. He’s beautiful. Leo is beautiful, and somehow the stars aligned to let Izumi have him.
“I love you, Sena,” Leo says, leaning forward until their foreheads meet. “I really, really love you.”
Izumi closes his eyes, laughter bubbling in his own chest because Leo’s mirth is infectious. “I love you, too, Leo-kun.”