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In the grand scheme of things, Daichi considered himself to be a pretty courageous guy, at least, most of the time. However, he did attribute that to proper support.
A few years ago, he finally summoned the courage to move forward with his career and now was finally taking the next step and fulfilling his dream of opening his own flower shop. Daichi was quick to say that it was because his son Shoyo was by his side through it all, happy and beaming and bright, allowing him to face his fears and pursue his ambition.
His mother worried often, afraid he’d get lonely now that he was packing up his things and moving to the city. No matter how much he assured her, it was still at the forefront of his mother’s mind, terrified of sending her two best boys out into the ‘big, bad world’.
Since Sho wasn’t quite elementary school-aged yet, owning his own shop would make it all the easier to spend time together. The five-year-old was off to pre-school in the morning, but all afternoon, he would bide his time at his father’s shop, posted up at the counter or in the back helping Daichi make arrangements.
Another bonus about the setup was the little bookstore right next door. The owner, a very kind but quiet man named Keiji Akaashi, hosted a reading circle every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon in which he would invite the neighborhood children to come in to be read to. It was a great way for Shoyo to make new friends as well as for Daichi to connect with some of the area parents.
Akaashi and his husband were proud parents themselves, fathers of a sweet child named Akinori who was around the same age as Shoyo. Oftentimes, the two little boys would sit side by side and excitedly chit-chat. Akaashi would then have to remind them to stay quiet while he was reading, issuing a gentle press of his finger to his full lips. However, the mirthful glint in his blue eyes quickly betrayed any of the ire he tried to put forth.
All that being said, luck came to him in the strangest way during his fourth week as a resident along the strip of small businesses near the booming downtown district.
“Are you coming to the meeting tonight?” Akaashi inquired as he put a book away, placing it on its designated shelf. The afternoon hours were waning, the golden sunlight of the late autumn sunset pouring in through the large windows in front and encasing the whole shop in gorgeous amber tones.
“Meeting?” Daichi parrotted from his position a few feet away, a homemade cookie just a few inches from his face. Apparently, one of the other local businesses baked cookies for the kids, too, dropping a dozen or so by before each and every storytime. Since there were spares remaining, Akaashi had told Daichi to help himself.
Daichi did not argue.
“Oh, did I not tell you?” Akaashi reached up and adjusted his glasses, brows pinched a bit as he spoke. Daichi shook his head. “My apologies. We have a neighborhood meeting tonight. We typically have them once a month or so just to check in on each other and brainstorm any new events, things of that sort.”
“That sounds really nice,” Daichi acknowledged. Wow, a whole neighborhood of small businesses looking out for one another? While probably not unheard of, it certainly threw the young dad for a loop. “Oh,” he suddenly realized as a giggle rose from the back of the shop, the sound belonging to none other than his son, “I’m sorry, I actually don’t have a babysitter or anything.”
To that, Akaashi laughed a little, waving his hand in dismissal. “It’s quite fine. Aki sometimes tags along, especially since tonight’s meeting is being hosted at Suga’s shop. He is so fascinated with it all.”
‘All what?’ Daichi wanted to ask, but at that moment, a customer walked in, the tiny bell above the door chiming to announce their entrance. “Excuse me, I’ll go help this customer. But I’ll see you at 6 down at Black Magic, right?”
“Yeah, of course!”
Now all Daichi had to do was figure out what ‘Black Magic’ was.
***
Daichi had come to find out that Black Magic was a tattoo and piercing parlor a few doors down from his own flower shop, with Akaashi’s bookstore and a hair salon serving as the division between the two stores. At first, Daichi had stalled out front, never having taken Shoyo into a place like that before. However, from his perch just outside the front door, he could see folks moving about, laughter audible even from outside.
“Wow, so cool!” Shoyo gasped as they made their entrance, the exclamation earning them more than one turned head. Daichi’s original plan was just to sneak in and simply observe, but it seemed that he forgot just how outgoing his little redheaded son could be. “Daddy, look at all this art!”
“Yes, Sho, it’s very awesome,” Daichi agreed, eyes tracing his son’s outstretched pointer finger as he gestured to the various colorful artworks on the wall. Some were themed in graffiti, others more realistic. Regardless, each work was eye-catching and certainly much more hip than anything he had lying about his own shop.
“Welcome to Black Magic Tattoo! I’m sorry, we’re actually closed for a meeting,” a man’s voice called from over his shoulder, the sound tenor and cordial.
At that moment, Daichi turned to see who had greeted him, and his breath was caught in his lungs.
Staring back at Daichi were twin pools of melted honey, warm and swimming. The bronze eyeshadow painted on the man’s eyelids helped the color of his irises to pop, as well as the tiny stud pierced through one of his gray brows, just as much of an accent as the little angel kiss beneath his left eye.
The stranger’s hair was silver, shimmering, almost iridescent beneath all the buzzing neon coming from the eclectic signage on the wall, depicting the words ‘Tattoos and Piercings Here!’ in a scripted font. On his face, the man wore a friendly expression, his pretty pink lips pulled into a welcoming smile.
This man was beautiful.
“Oh,” Daichi began very intelligently, “I, uh--”
“He’s not here for a tattoo.” Both men turned as Akaashi’s voice filled their space, Daichi relieved to see someone familiar. “He actually owns the new flower shop next door to me.”
At that, the silver-haired man turned and regarded Daichi, a new life behind those beautiful eyes. “Ah, well, in that case, welcome to Black Magic, my name Koushi Sugawara, but all my friends call me--”
“Suga,” Daichi finished the man’s sentence without even trying, the name that Akaashi had offered in the shop just a few hours prior finally making sense.
“Yes, that’s correct.” Suga propped a hand on his slender hip, causing Daichi to finally notice the tattoos that graced his knuckles, the back of his hand, all the way until it disappeared under the rolled-up sleeve of his maroon henley. “And you are?”
“I’m, uh, Daichi. Sawamura. And this is my son.” He gestured to the little boy now stationed at his left. God, why did his mouth suddenly feel like it was stuffed with cotton?
“I’m Shoyo!”
A grin, as beautiful as any rare piece of art, split Suga’s face in two as he met the little boy’s hand. However, the slight wince he made suddenly was a tell that Shoyo was demonstrating his strength, something of which the redhead possessed in abundance. Seriously, there was so much energy, sunshine, and athleticism packed into that little body, Daichi was sure he’d have to sign his son up for gymnastics or something soon.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Suga said as he righted himself, trying to be inconspicuous as he flexed his hand where Sho had gripped it. “A flower shop is an excellent addition to our neighborhood.”
For some reason, the praise caused Daichi to blush. “Ah, thank you,” he replied, pawing at the back of his warming neck.
“Well, I think we better get to business before Tooru gets too hangry, though Osamu should be along soon,” Akaashi interjected, gesturing to a tall brunette man who stood at the corner of the room, biting into a cookie bedecked in M&M’s.
“Is he the baker?” Daichi inquired.
With a little laugh, the sound was so charming and musical, Suga waved his hand. “No, Tooru isn’t allowed to be within 15 feet of a kitchen, if his husband has anything to do with it. Tooru is actually our resident hairstylist.”
“And esthetician,” Akaashi supplied, gesturing to his beautifully sculpted eyebrows.
“His husband is the baker,” the tattoo artist filled in that gap, craning his head in the direction of a broad-shouldered man with stark green eyes. From this distance, Daichi could have sworn there was a bit of flour across his tan cheek, but he couldn’t be certain.
Tooru and his husband were carrying on a conversation, well, a rather one-sided one, the taller of the two speaking animatedly while the baker looked rather unimpressed.
“They’re married?” he ventured to ask, hoping he wasn’t overstepping.
This time, Akaashi chuckled. “You’ll see.”
At that moment, Suga stuck his hand in the air and snapped his fingers loudly three times, pulling the attention of everyone in the room. From this view, Daichi could see the gorgeous marking all along his arm, pale skin tattooed and covered beautifully by an ornate dragon. It had been done in all black ink, however, it had so much depth, it was astounding.
“Pretty,” Shoyo commented just to his left, amber eyes wide as he admired the artwork.
Daichi couldn’t bring himself to disagree with his son.
“Okay everyone, let’s have a seat! We have a newbie and a few things to discuss.”
From behind the door positioned beyond the register, a large man emerged, folding chairs tucked under his arm. He had long, curly hair pulled back into a low bun, and wore smart, black glasses. He had on a hoodie, so if he had tattoos, too, Daichi wasn’t sure. But from this position, he could spot a multitude of piercings in his ears.
“Oh, Asahi, thanks for grabbing those!” Suga stepped out to help his friend.
“No worries, boss,” the giant replied as he assisted Suga in getting the chair set up in a sort of half-moon shape.
Boss? Daichi thought. This guy must also work at the shop .
“Hey, hey, hey!” The front door swung open then, entering in Bokuto and Akinori. The child with fawn-colored hair held open the door for his dad who was juggling several bags of takeout food. A simple fork and spoon logo was printed on the front. “I hope everyone is hungry!”
“Oh, famished ,” exclaimed the one named Tooru as he began to saunter across the tiled flooring to meet up with Bokuto. Tooru swiped up a bag, though Daichi suspected it wasn’t to aid in carrying the food but rather an attempt to be the first to eat.
“Shittykawa!” The green-eyed baker barked from his spot on the other end of the reception area, standing beside the wall filled with body jewelry. “Have some manners, we have a new person.”
At that, Tooru scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest with great offense, though Daichi suspected it was rather put on. “Iwa-chan! I am the most well-mannered person in this establishment.” In complete opposition to those words, Tooru reached in the bag he was holding and withdrew a foil-wrapped burrito. One-handedly, as if he were a magician, he peeled back a layer of foil and took a massive bite. The way he hummed as he chewed was pretty indicative of just how pleased he was with himself as well as the food.
With a heavy sigh, the baker walked up to Daichi. “I’m sorry about him,” the man explained, extending out his hand. “I’m Hajime Iwaizumi, and that’s my husband, Tooru.”
“Daichi,” the young dad shook the man’s hand. However, when he went to introduce Shoyo, he realized his son was no longer standing beside him. A momentary wave of panic washed over him when he looked up and realized that Shoyo was stationed at Akinori’s side, the pair already unwrapping the burritos someone had given them. Chuckling, Daichi pointed to the red-headed boy. “And that’s my son, Shoyo.”
“Good to have you,” Hajime said with a smile. “Flower shop, right?”
“Right,” Daichi smiled. “Oh, and speaking of flour…” the young dad gestured to his own cheek, amused to see a stripe of white powder across Hajime’s cheek.
“Oh, God damn it,” the baker grumbled before turning away, clearly embarrassed and swiping at his reddening face. “Excuse me for a moment.” Hajime then beelined toward a door marked ‘Restroom’, likely in the pursuit of washing his face.
“They’re good people.” Suga’s voice from beside Daichi caused him to startle a little, but the tattoo artist was handing over a serving of foil-wrapped food while wearing a kind expression. “They’re just a mess.”
“Aren’t we all?” Daichi asked, suddenly nervous as he accepted the proffered burrito.
“Mmm,” Suga hummed, taking a bite of his food. From where his hands were curled around the base of his burrito, Daichi could spot just how long and pretty his fingers were, adorned with various rings. Though if one was a wedding ring, Daichi couldn’t be sure. However, he didn’t yet have the gall to ask. “I am perhaps the biggest mess here.”
Suga shot him a coy side-eye then, irises smoldering. God, this guy was gorgeous. Did he know that? Someone should tell him every day.
“Is that so?”
Taking a massive bite of the top of his tortilla, Suga winked.
Yeah, Daichi was screwed.
***
As it turned out, the meeting went really well. Everyone was very welcoming and friendly, and Daichi got to meet all the shop owners in the neighborhood. Apparently, the food was supplied by Osamu Miya who owned a comfort food style restaurant at the end of the block. He couldn’t make the meeting until a bit later since he had the dinner rush to worry about. However, Akaashi vouched for him, citing that he was his best friend and his food was to die for.
After devouring that burrito, Daichi was inclined to believe it. He made a mental note about visiting the restaurant for dinner in the coming days. Shoyo would undoubtedly enjoy that.
The list of items up for discussion was short and sweet, each person just providing an update on how sales were going and what changes were going on. Hajime, the baker, had stated that the city would be coming through to repair a part of the sidewalk according to an email he received, and the group made a note to be mindful of foot traffic during the construction.
Of course, there was the discussion of the holidays and sales tactics for that. Daichi had leaned forward, curious. Christmas wasn’t really a flowery holiday, though he did sell some poinsettias and white roses, for those who liked the aesthetics. He had a few Christmas weddings on the docket, too, all red and white themed, and it would be pretty.
“I think we should have an open house the week before Christmas! We could even make it a fundraiser for the kiddos!” Tooru blurted out, hands clasped in front of him excitedly. “Wouldn’t that be fun, Iwa-chan? You can bake Christmas cookies, and I’ll take walk-ins to do Christmas nails. Makki has been perfecting his snowflake designs!”
Suga had laughed at that. “What am I supposed to do, offer Christmas tattoos?”
“Sure, why not?” Tooru blinked. “Or piercings! Didn’t you hire a new piercings guy?”
Daichi looked over at the tall brunette that had introduced himself as Asahi. Was he new?
“I did, but Kiyoomi couldn’t be here this evening.” Suga tapped the end of his pen to his full lips and Daichi tried not to stare too hard. “Maybe he can do something like ear piercings or nose rings? Something simple.”
“Yeah, do that!”
“What about you?” Suga turned his attention to Daichi then, the young dad suddenly feeling as though he had been caught doing something wrong. Which he wasn’t, not really, just being sort of creepy and staring like a lovesick high schooler.
“Uh, me?” he asked quite eloquently. “I don’t think the floral industry is wildly popular at Christmas time.”
“Daddy, you should make wreaths!” Shoyo piped up from his spot at the little fold-out table where he and Akinori were posted up, coloring in the coloring books Bokuto had supplied them.
“Oh, well,” he started, thinking. That was actually a good idea. He wouldn’t be able to make many, but maybe he could raffle them? That would be fine, because then he could actually take Shoyo around the event instead of just camping at the flower shop. “That’s a good idea, let’s do that.”
The way Suga’s eyes sparkled caused Daichi’s stomach to flip-flop. “Perfect! Then we’ll get this on the calendar.”
Jotting that down, they carried on with the meeting. They brainstormed a bit, and Akaashi offered to host a Christmas reading circle for the kids the night of the holiday open house as well as make hot chocolate. It all sounded like a very sweet plan.
Toward the very tail end of the meeting, the front door to the tattoo shop jingled, the bell chiming as a newcomer entered the tattoo parlor. This man was broad-shouldered and long-legged, clad in a black t-shirt that hugged his arms as well as a black ballcap, turned backward.
“Osamu!” Akaashi greeted, waving at the man at the door.
“Hey, Osamu!” Bokuto greeted in turn.
“Hey everyone,” he replied with a small wave. “Sorry I’m late, got stuck in the dinner rush and I didn’t want to leave Sunarin high and dry.”
“No worries,” Suga shook his head, waving the man in. “We were just talking about doing a Christmas open house as a fundraiser.”
The man fully entered the store then, letting the door fall shut behind him, sealing away the chilly, late autumn breeze. “That’s a good idea. I can run some kind of a special at the restaurant. Maybe debut my new crab bisque?”
“Good thinking!” Tooru said. “Soup would be perfect!”
“Or more burritos!” Bokuto piped up, pointing to the empty rolls of foil balled up in the nearby trash can.
Osamu smiled at that. “Glad ya enjoyed.”
“Alright, any other news?” Suga asked, tapping the tip of his pen against his notepad.
***
The Christmas open house had snuck up on Daichi so fast. This was pretty normal for the holiday season in general, but between rushing Sho off to half-day pre-school as well as Akaashi’s reading circle, taking trips down to Osamu’s restaurant for late dinners, and making wreaths between all of his Christmas wedding orders, time was moving at the speed of light.
Sho was excited to be a part of it all, of course, and was fast friends with Akinori, curling up on the bean bags in the bookstore to excitedly talk about what they were going to ask Santa for.
In passing, he had run into Suga a few times, and they had chatted and joked around a bit. Suga was surprisingly easy to talk to, even with as much as the tattoo artist’s good looks seemed to render Daichi useless and gave him hardcore cottonmouth. Daichi would be lying if he said that the way those honey eyes reflected the Christmas lights didn’t leave his chest tight.
The moments that they met, the gorgeous creature was seen rushing into Osamu’s restaurant for a pickup order to take back to the tattoo parlor late in the evening, or dropping by the reading circle in the chance to snag one of the leftover cookies that Hajime delivered. While Daichi was willing to chalk it up as a combination of coincidence and proximity, Akaashi was convinced otherwise.
“Suga has never been a big reader,” the raven-haired man commented one Sunday afternoon as Daichi polished off one of the Godzilla-shaped sugar cookies left on the counter. These ones were topped with frosting Santa hats, as Hajime was testing out which ones he would sell for the open house.
“Hmm?” Daichi very elegantly hummed around two cheek fulls of his sugary treat.
“Sugawara,” Akaashi began, adjusting his dark glasses as his sapphire eyes sparkled knowingly, “he isn’t much into literature. And he doesn’t have children. So I’m wondering if perhaps there is another reason he has been haunting my bookstore lately?”
The whole comment was very cryptic, but before Daichi could even swallow down his bite, the owner was already at the register, ringing up a customer’s purchase.
Daichi decided not to dwell on it, because it was too enticing. Suga was gorgeous, but what would such a beautiful and cool man, covered with intricate and detailed tattoos and pierced ears, want with him? He was just a boring, single dad who worked with flowers.
Anything regarding Suga had to be a pipe dream.
However, a few days before the open house, a knock fell upon the store’s front door. It was after closing time, and Shoyo was out with Daichi’s mom. Normally, Daichi would have joined them for dinner and shopping, but he had so much to get done, including the wreaths he was making for the raffle. In crunch time, Shoyo proved to be more of a chatterbox than a help, though Daichi would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the company.
Rising from the table where he was arranging holly on a circular wireframe, he wiped his hands on his green apron. The sleeves of his cream sweater were pushed up around his forearms. From the glass front door, he thought he could make out a familiar figure, but it wasn’t until he opened it that his brain began to register just who was standing there.
“Hey,” Suga greeted, his breath visible in the cold air. He was wearing a dark coat and gray scarf that complimented his silver hair. Curled up in one hand was a to-go bag, stamped with an all-too-familiar logo.
“Hi,” Daichi whispered, stunned to see the tattoo artist standing there. While he would consider themselves friends, he was stunned by Suga’s sudden presence.
God, the way the frigid weather kissed those pale cheeks and tinged them a beautiful pink forced Daichi’s heart to slam inside of his ribcage. It should be illegal for one human to look that divine.
“Are you hungry?” Suga queried, holding up the brown bag for a better view.
Admittedly, he was, stomach rumbling as if on cue. He always prioritized feeding Shoyo, but he struggled sometimes with remembering to take care of himself. And with his son away this evening, tracking down sustenance had totally slipped his mind.
“Yeah, actually,” he came clean, taking a step back to usher his guest inside. It was the first time Suga had wandered down to his shop, since the two seemed prone to be meeting in the middle at the bookstore. “Come on in.”
Glancing around, Daichi took a quick inventory of his storefront. Typically, he didn’t let things get in too big of disrepair. He was organized and meticulous, making sure that pop-in customers could find arrangements easily and get everything they needed quickly. Given the time of year, the bulk of the arrangements were mostly in winter colors. Red and white roses along the far wall, cream tulips up by the register, and a plethora of poinsettias were arranged on a flat table in the center of the shop.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” Suga commented as Daichi locked the front door behind them, reaching up to shake some of the snow from his silver locks. Daichi hadn’t even noticed it was beginning to snow.
“No, you’re not at all.” Daichi shook his head. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Well, I was running by to grab the special of the day from Osamu, and he mentioned that he hadn’t seen you yet today. My guys are finishing up a tattoo, but then we’re closed.” Suga smiled. “But I’m still hungry and I thought maybe I’d see if you could use some company.”
At those comments, Daichi had to blush a little. He hadn’t realized how much he had come to rely on Osamu’s food lately, especially as the open house approached. Not to mention all the pre-orders he was already receiving for Valentine’s Day. It was never too early to think of that specific holiday while in the floral industry.
That, and of course the implication that Suga wanted to eat with him, of all people.
“Ah,” Daichi chuckled, guiding his guest through the storefront and back to his workshop where he had been situated, just on the other side of a swinging door. “Yeah, I guess I have been so focused over here that I haven’t made a food run for myself yet.” The table was a mess and covered in evergreen branches and bright red berries, his needle-nose pliers resting idly on the oak surface. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad I could drop by with a delivery, then.” The smile Suga offered caused Daichi’s breath to hitch. “Osamu is trying out different soups for the open house,” he explained, setting the bag down on an open expanse of the craft table before peeling off his coat and draping it over across one of the empty stools. “Today is chicken noodle.”
“Always a solid choice,” Daichi commented as he cleared away a bit more space to accommodate both men so that they could eat.
“I brought extra, just in case Shoyo was here.” Suga began to unload several styrofoam tubs and place them accordingly.
The gesture was so thoughtful, Daichi couldn’t keep the tender smile off of his face. “Thank you so much, but he’s actually out with my mother. She wanted to get in some Christmas shopping.”
“Ah, well, then we can have a little feast ourselves.”
Daichi wasn’t opposed to that at all.
“What are you working on?” Suga questioned as he opened his container, pushing up the sleeves of his oversized crew neck, showing off one colorful sleeve of flowers and one of intricate, monochrome dragons.
Realizing he was staring like a total psycho, Daichi cleared his throat. “Uh, actually, the wreaths for the open house.”
Blinking, Suga regarded the multitude of finished wreaths that were already filling the small space. “Weren’t you just making a few for the raffle?”
Pawing at the back of his neck with one hand, hovering his plastic spoon just above the hot soup with the other, Daichi chuckled. “The others are actually gifts.”
“Gifts?” Suga parrotted, gray brows shooting up a bit. “For who?”
Staggering a bit, Daichi was trying to think of how to answer. Everyone in their little stretch of businesses had been so kind, and he wanted nothing more than to thank them all for their hospitality. Making so many wreaths wasn’t an easy feat, but it would be worth it, especially if other shop owners liked the gift.
“It’s a surprise,” he decided to answer before taking a bite of his soup.
Thankfully, Suga seemed to accept that. The pair ate and made companionable small talk, chattering about their day and the preparations they were each doing for the open house fundraiser. Kiyoomi, the new piercer, was offering nose and various ear piercings, and Suga was taking discounted bookings for tattoo appointments. A portion of the proceeds from each booking would go back to benefit their chosen charity, which was to help Toys-For-Tots provide Christmas for kiddos in need.
Undoubtedly, it was a cause near and dear to Daichi’s own heart.
As they ate, Suga had an update for some of the others on the block, too. The Godzilla sugar cookies were coming along well, and Tooru was even offering up simple hair add-ins that were red and green and could be put in with a bit of wax and a flat iron. Plus, there were Hanamaki’s Christmas nail designs, too.
“And get this,” Suga clasped his hands together excitedly. “Bokuto is going to be Santa.”
At that announcement, Daichi couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. Their soup bowls were empty now, and Daichi was reaching out for his pliers once again. “I mean, that seems pretty par for the course,” he acknowledged. The man was loud, fun, loved kids, and had the perfect hair color to boot. Plus, the last few times he had caught sight of the big guy, he was sporting more and more facial hair. Daichi was shocked that it was coming in white as snow, though, considering the guy’s youthful age.
“He’s going to be set up reading stories and of course, being available to talk to the kids and find out what they want for Christmas. Instead of ‘hey, hey, hey!’ be prepared for a lot of ‘ho, ho, ho!’” A bit of mirth touched Suga’s eyes at that.
It all sounded so delightful, and Daichi had to chuckle. “I can’t wait,” he replied with every ounce of sincerity. Shoyo was going to absolutely love it.
“Do you need any help?” Suga gestured to where Daichi had begun sifting through evergreen branches.
Daichi’s first instinct was to turn the other man down, to say ‘no thank you’, as was pretty typical of his fierce independence. But for some reason, he decided against it. “Actually, yeah.” Daichi rose to his feet, going over to his toolbox to retrieve a second pair of pliers. “If you really want to, I’d appreciate the company.”
Suga flashed a devious grin then. “I think you’ll find I’m very good with my hands.”
Daichi sputtered and dropped his pliers, sending the tool clattering to the tiled floor, echoing along with Suga’s manic laughter.
***
Suga was a fast learner, as it turned out, and true to his word, was very good with his hands. The way those long, slender fingers skilfully weaved the pine branches through the delicate wire was something to behold. It was easy to see how reminiscent his movements were to his tattoo work, graceful and calculated. Adorably, his tongue even poked out of the corner of his mouth, eyes narrowed in concentration.
Daichi wondered if he made that same face while he was permanently placing ink across his customer’s bodies. If so, it would make him easily the cutest tattoo artist who ever lived.
“How does this look?” Suga held up the wreath for further inspection, clearly excited for Daichi’s approval of his handiwork.
Honestly, it was like Suga was the florist. Hade the shoe been on the other foot, Daichi knew he’d give the world’s worst tattoos. Shoyo’s crayon stick figures were better than anything the young dad could draw.
“Amazing,” Daichi breathed out, admiring the way that Suga was holding it up like a prized possession. He looked so cheerful and adorable, the pink touching his cheeks now, hopefully brought on from the praise.
Sheepishly, Suga lowered the wreath back to the tabletop. “I just hope I didn’t mess anything up or slow you down.”
Even if he had, Daichi was grateful for the adult company and easy conversation. However, Suga had served to be a big help. “No, you did amazing. Thank you so much.”
“It was my pleasure… I have always loved flowers,” Suga hummed, running the tips of his fingers gently along the soft pine needles. The whole room smelled of evergreen and hearty soup. “I love drawing them.”
“Your art is incredible.” At that comment, Daichi pointed to the lotus blossom on Suga’s left wrist. “I love your handiwork.”
Rolling his wrist over, Suga inspected his own tattoo. “Thank you! If you ever want a little ink, you just let me know.”
“Oh, I could never.” However, he uttered that without really considering how it sounded. Given the way Suga’s eyes widened, it probably came across as judgemental. Immediately trying to save face, Daichi waved his hands around. “Shit! Not like that. Like, I’m not cool enough to have one. I’m just a lame single dad who owns a flower shop and–”
“You’re single?”
Both men stopped and just stared at one another, the air between them becoming tense but electric. Suddenly, the distance across the table felt too far and too close at the same time.
Swallowing thickly, Daichi gave a reply. “I am,” he said, mouth suddenly dry.
“Me too.”
Trying to school his sheer dumbfoundedness, Daichi replied, “I didn’t expect that.”
Crinkling his nose a little, amused, Suga offered a sentiment of his own. “Nor was I. I just thought…” his tone was a little more careful now, considerate.
“Since I have a son, I’d be married?” Daichi supplied, helping to bridge any gaps. Daichi didn’t mind the assumption, it was a valid one. Most people were. He had never been married, in fact.
A nervous chuckle followed. “Yeah, that.”
Resting his hands on the tabletop, Daichi did his best to put his thoughts together. “Shoyo is adopted,” he explained. “He is not my biological son.”
A curious, gray brow quirked at that. “No?”
Daichi’s chest warmed at the thought of adopting his son a few years ago, the bright little boy as radiant as the sun. All fiery, orange hair and the most infectious smile you would ever see. It wasn’t planned, Daichi explained to Suga, at least not so soon. But the florist had been making a delivery to the local orphanage a few years back when he first began in the business, back at the shop where he was an apprentice. Someone made a donation to help brighten the kids’ day. And it was there he saw Shoyo, barely two years old and sweet as a button.
Right when Daichi was sure he had his life figured out, a plan made, Shoyo came along. He knew he always wanted to be a father, but didn’t know if he’d actually ever have the chance nor be quite brave enough to enter into parenthood.
However, upon seeing the little boy’s face, there was no doubt about how much he wanted Shoyo as his son, even if he didn’t yet have a life partner or spouse. The whole thing was a bit of a process, but the adoption was worth every penny, shed tears, and paper cuts left behind from bureaucratic documents. Once the judge had signed the paper, Daichi was sure he’d never been happier.
“You’re amazing,” Suga offered, the accolade warm and dripping with saccharine sincerity, eyes ablaze with admiration.
Feeling a tad embarrassed, Daichi turned away, fighting the heat warming his face. “Nah,” he dismissed, “just a normal guy.”
Cocking his head to the side, Suga chuckled. “Sure, whatever you say. Handsome, hard-working, successful, and a great dad to boot - sounds pretty normal to me.”
Right when Daichi went to dismiss those claims, his phone vibrated to life inside his jeans pocket. “Sorry, one moment. That’s probably my mom.”
As he fished out the device, sure enough, the image on the front screen belonged to his mother. Swiping over the green button, he answered. “Hello?”
“Daichi, darling! Come answer the door to the shop for us.”
Glancing up at Suga, Daichi immediately felt himself stiffen. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that his mother was going to make a comment about the pair. His mother was a kind woman and an excellent parent, but she was constantly trying to set Daichi up on a date. “ He’s a nice guy! ” She would say, showing off a social media picture of a man roughly his age, a friend of a friend’s son, or some lengthy chain of connection along those same lines. “ Do you want his number? ”
Daichi didn’t want some random guy’s number. He wanted Suga’s , and now, his mom was about to meet the object of her son’s affections. Granted, it was a very new development, but still. That was all the more important reason that the pair didn’t meet quite yet. There was no need to ruin it before it even got off the ground.
Shifting his attention back to the storefront, Daichi thought of an idea. If he could keep his mom from coming to the back, then all would be well, and an incident would be avoided. “Sure, I’ll be right out.” Quickly, he hung up and turned toward the tattoo artist. “Uh, do you mind hanging out for just a sec? My mom is dropping Sho off.”
Giving an easy smile, Suga nodded. “Of course.”
“Great, I’ll be just a sec.”
Excusing himself, he made it back to the front area and unlocked the main door. Almost immediately, he was bombarded by a big hug from his son, Shoyo latching on around his calves.
“Daddy!” Sho exclaimed, squeezing his father tight. “We’re back from Christmas shopping!”
Reaching out to muss his son’s orange hair, Daichi chuckled. “Did you have fun with Grandma?”
Excitedly, the boy nodded. “We did! We got so many surprises, I can’t wait until Christmas for everyone to open them!”
Heart about to burst, Daichi agreed. “Me either, sweet boy.”
“I will have to text you the pictures of Shoyo on the Christmas carousel,” his mother explained as she entered the store a little further. “He had a blast, didn’t you sweetheart?”
“Mhm! The best time!”
Already, Shoyo was beginning to peel off the layers of his coat and scarf, his face flushed nearly the color of his fiery hair thanks to the cold weather. It seemed like the snow had stopped, at least for now. “Well, I’m glad it was a good time. I really appreciate all the help, Mom.” Leaning forward, he gave a little kiss to his mother’s cold cheek.
“Did you get some work done?” The tight furrow of his mother’s brow said everything she verbally wouldn’t: she was worried about her son. Daichi had a bad habit of overworking himself, though honestly, since Shoyo came along, he had been doing so much better. With another person relying on him for basic needs, it made it all the more difficult to neglect his own.
“I did,” he said softly, reaching out to squeeze her arm gently over her puffer coat. “I promise, I’m doing alright.”
The older woman shot him a knowing look, but then, her features softened a bit. “As long as you swear…”
Placing a hand over his heart, he gave a promise. “I swear.”
“Mr. Sugawara!” Shoyo exclaimed as he propped open the swinging door leading to the back area. “What are you doing here?”
The soft shuffling of shoes came as his guest made his way over to the door. The first thing Daichi noticed was the way that Suga’s long sleeves were no longer rolled up. Instead, they were pulled down so far that they covered his hands all the way to his knuckles, hiding all of his tattoos, the soft material balled up around his thumbs.
“Ah, hello,” the silver-haired man greeted politely, looking a little nervous. His eyebrow piercing reflected in the low light. “I’m so sorry to intrude.”
In an instant, his mother’s eyes lit up, dark and rich just like Daichi’s own. Though in his opinion, hers were so much prettier. “Wow, look at you,” she gushed as she crossed the tile, the heels of her boots squeaking with every step, leaving behind wet tracks of melted snow. She stopped right before Suga, giving him the once over. “You are stunning, oh my goodness! Did my son need me to take Sho so that you could have a date night? He said he was working but this is so much better!”
Completely mortified, Daichi wanted the earth to swallow him whole. Or for one for the flowers in his shop to become sentient and go all ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ and eat him alive. Either option was totally viable and perfectly welcomed.
“ Mom ,” he admonished, blushing furiously, “I was working and Suga came over and helped.”
Backing up Daichi’s claim, Suga stated, “it’s true. I own a shop a few doors down and just brought over some soup.”
“What kind of work do you do, Suga ?” The nickname Daichi had affixed to the silver-haired man keenly did not slip past the Sawamura matriarch.
Looking a little uncertain, Suga began, “well, you see, I–”
“He does tattoos!” Shoyo exclaimed without a moment’s hesitation. “And they’re so pretty!”
Whatever color was left in Suga’s face drained away at that reveal, and suddenly, Daichi became hyper-aware of why the silver-haired man looked so damned anxious. He was likely terrified at the idea of Daichi’s mother hating tattoos or his profession. However, Suga was surely in for a surprise.
“A tattoo artist, you say?” His mother looked Suga over again, as if she were seeing him in a whole new light. “At which shop?”
Blinking, the ash-blonde barely pushed out the words, “Black Magic, ma’am.”
In no time flat, his mother was peeling off her coat next, freeing up one arm so she could flash her own ink. There, on her left bicep, was a single red rose, opening in full bloom. Even after all this time, the color was still vivid.
Given the size of Suga’s eyes, transformed to the circumference of saucers, the tattoo artist was clearly shocked by his revelation. Daichi’s mother not only had a tattoo, but a massive, detailed one at that.
“I got this down at the ‘Anvil and Anchor’ about six years ago, right when my boy said he wanted to be a florist. I love roses, you see.”
“That’s her name!” Shoyo supplied, still stationed at his grandmother’s side. “Her name is Rose!”
Extending her hand, Daichi’s mom introduced herself formally. “Rose Sawamura, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Still quite awestruck, Suga accepted her proffered hand. “Koushi. Koushi Sugawara. But all my friends call me–”
“Suga,” his mother finished that sentence. “I like it.”
Silently to himself, Daichi smiled. He supposed that could have gone a hell of a lot worse and so far, nothing too horribly incriminating had happened.
“So,” Rose crossed her arms over her chest, a wicked grin on her face, “just how long have you been dating my son?”
Daichi stood wildly corrected.
***
Despite Suga’s blatant insistence that his mother’s prodding wasn’t all that bad, Daichi was inclined to believe otherwise. Thankfully, the young father was able to shoo his mother away with only a bit of coercion and wrangling, steering her away from his crush with the understanding that no, they absolutely were NOT dating. (As much as Daichi wished they were, it was still way too early.)
By the time Rose had left the property, Daichi was worried everything would be tense or awkward, but in the end, it was far from being so. Suga had taken everything in stride, even showing off his sleeves of tattoos that ran up both arms. Rose had been delighted and asked to see more of the young man’s ink, and Daichi told his mom that Suga wasn’t taking his shirt off.
That was mostly for his own sanity because honestly, he would have loved to take in every inch of Suga’s beautiful tattooed skin, but definitely not in the presence of his mother and son. That was entirely too overwhelming of a prospect.
Shortly after Rose has left, Suga followed suit, thanking Daichi for having him and teaching him a new skill. The open house was just a few days away, and they had made plans to rendezvous then.
Truthfully, Daichi could hardly wait.
The remaining days before the open house were gone in a flash. All of the wreaths were complete and Daichi was ready to deliver them. Rather than opening up his store for business, he asked Akaashi if he could put the raffle wreaths up in the bookstore so he could walk Shoyo around. Akaashi had been thrilled with that idea.
The first stop was the bookstore, where Daichi delivered his gift wreath to Akaashi and set up the ones for raffle. The bookstore owner loved his and immediately hung it on the front door. The whole establishment smelled of pine needles, old books, and the hot chocolate Akaashi had made for the kids.
“Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas!” Bokuto bellowed, his Santa beard now a respectable length, his dual-toned hair flattened beneath a bright red Christmas cap, complete with a white puffball at the end.
All of the children, Shoyo and Akinori included, giggled and clapped upon Santa’s arrival. First, he was going to hear the kids’ Christmas wishes, and then spend a little time reading a few classic Christmas storybooks. From behind the counter, Akaashi looked totally smitten, face propped on his open palm while his free hand curled around a steaming mug of hot cocoa.
“How did I get so lucky?” It was a seemingly rhetorical question, but Daichi answered it anyway.
“You both are great parents.”
Amused, a smirk pulled at Akaashi’s full lips. “You’re a great father, too, Daichi.”
Chuckling, Daichi shook his head. “I’m not so sure.”
“Well,” Akaashi leaned in a little closer, bumping his friend’s shoulder lightly with his own, “I think it takes one to know one, don’t you?”
Daichi kept his gaze forward, watching as ‘Santa’ talked to one child at a time. Kuroo, another local business owner, was taking the posed photos of children with the holiday icon. The proceeds there, too, went to charity. Daichi gladly paid for multiple copies.
“Sometimes,” he admitted, making sure to keep his voice low and soft, “I really wonder.”
“Alright, little boy,” Bokuto pulled Shoyo onto his lap next, grinning ear to ear. It was obvious he was wearing fake glasses and trying to make his voice sound a bit deeper in an effort to disguise it. “And who do we have here?”
“I’m Shoyo Sawamura!” the red-headed child exclaimed.
“Well hello, Shoyo! And what would a sweet young man like yourself want for Christmas this year?”
“I don’t want anything for me,” the little boy commented decidedly. At that declaration, Daichi drew back a little bit, surprised.
“Oh, oh?” Santa chuckled, sounding a bit confused himself. “Then what do you want?”
Shoyo, without a single qualm, said, “for my daddy to be happy.”
In an instant, several pairs of eyes fell on Daichi, and he never felt more seen.
Chuckling, Santa asked, “well, what did you have in mind?”
Casting a wary look in his father’s direction, Shoyo leaned in, cupping his mouth to whisper in Santa’s ear. It took just a moment before an enormous, jolly chuckle rang out. “Don’t worry,” a less-than-subtle wink was casted at Daichi. “I think something can be arranged.”
Gleefully, the red-headed boy bounded off Santa’s lap to take his seat on the floor for storytime. Internally, Daichi could feel his insides turning to mush. From next to him, Akaashi just chuckled, though made it a point not to berate Daichi further. For this, the young dad was relieved, and accepted an apologetic hot chocolate from the bookstore owner.
By the time the storybook was done, something about a Christmas mouse who became Santa’s helper (Daichi wasn’t really paying attention, his brain elsewhere), the young dad turned to Akaashi. “Do you mind keeping an eye on Shoyo? I just want to take these other wreaths around.”
The book shop owner smiled. “Of course, though I think Santa has his full attention.”
Daichi thanked his friend and collected the other wreaths he had set to deliver. Intentionally, he skipped over ‘Black Magic’, beelining for Osamu’s restaurant. A blonde man, who bore a striking resemblance to Osamu, greeted him at the front. When a very confused Daichi inquired about the owner’s whereabouts, the bleached blonde retorted, “I’m the better Miya twin, anyway. Everyone just likes him cus’ he can cook.”
This provocation prompted Osamu out from behind the door to the kitchen, earning the blonde twin a wallop across the back of the head as well as a good-natured smile. The pair bickered briefly until Daichi cleared his throat. Osamu was quick to apologize for their behavior, to which Daichi waved it away, offering up a wreath and a Christmas wish.
Moving onto the next shop, Daichi was pleased to see Hajime behind the counter, his once-overflowing stockpile of Godzilla Christmas cookies dwindling down to almost nothing, the festive treats nearly sold out. Issei, the sleepy-eyed decorator whom Daichi had met in passing, offered up a small greeting before turning his attention back to piping a fresh batch of cupcakes.
“I’ll hang this on the door right now,” Hajime assured once he was presented with Daichi’s wreath. The baker, however, was not so keen on Daichi leaving empty-handed, a reptilian cookie thrust into his grip prior to making his exit.
Next door at the hair salon, Tooru was busy giving red and green hair extensions, chatting and carrying on with a pretty, raven-haired customer. The woman had smart glasses and a beauty mark, right on her chin. Daichi’s heart clenched at how much it reminded him of Suga.
There was a reason the tattoo parlor was the last stop on his trek.
“Dai-chan!” Tooru greeted once he realized who had walked in. “Here to get some snowflake nails?”
With a heartfelt laugh, Daichi shook his head, holding up one of the two remaining wreaths. “Nope, here to deliver a gift.”
Unsurprisingly, Tooru was touched, collecting the carefully-crafted ring of pine needles and holly as if it were the sash at a Miss America pageant, cooing and awing in gratitude. “Oh, Dai-chan, this is beautiful! Thank you so much! Makki - get this man in a chair for some nails pronto! ”
As insistent as Tooru was, Daichi had to decline. Though really, it felt like he was only delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, Tooru was going to make sure he got a mani-pedi. He was only released once Daichi promised that he would get one sometime in the New Year. First, however, he had a mission to finish.
“Good luck at your next stop, Dai-chan,” Tooru had offered over his shoulder before resuming his work. The sing-song tone of his voice admittedly raised a few alarm bells, but from what Daichi had observed, the hairstylist had a flair for the dramatic.
Best for last , Daichi thought as he stood outside of ‘Black Magic’, now down to one, singular wreath. It was the one Daichi had made with Suga in mind while they worked together at the shop that night. Suga’s creation was hanging back at the shop so that Daichi could admire it each and every day, still enamored with the way Suga’s nimble fingers wove the branches so delicately.
If there was ever a time he needed to dig deep and summon up a little bit of courage, it was now.
Peering just inside, Daichi could see that the shop was pretty busy, a long line of folks waiting for what looked to be ear piercings. Suga, however, was posted up at the front, a sketchbook laid out before him, the man drawing up various designs.
Taking a deep breath, Daichi let himself inside. At the trill of the door chime, the tattoo artist’s attention immediately snapped forward. Daichi watched carefully as the silver-haired man’s expression morphed from surprise to fondness, and Daichi felt his chest tighten.
“Merry Christmas,” Daichi greeted as he shut the door behind him, effectively sealing away the blustery wind.
“Merry Christmas,” Suga called in return, lowering his pencil to the glass countertop, honey eyes never leaving the young dad’s face.
“I, uh, brought you something.” Approaching the tattoo artist, Daichi held up his gift, though it seemed a bit silly, since Suga was there when it was made. However, almost instantly, Suga’s eyes lit up, youthful and shimmering.
“Oh my goodness!” The tattoo artist reached over and accepted the gift. “Is this the one I made?”
Shaking his head, Daichi pawed at the back of his neck as Suga inspected the greenery closer. This one had a bright, candy-striped ribbon tied at the bottom, complementing the winter berries flecked throughout. “Actually, this is the one I made. For you,” he added for good measure, fighting the urge to cough and hide his face. “The one you made is hanging back at my shop.”
Wide-eyed, Suga’s attention flicked forward, brows scrunching, that little brow piercing shifting with the movement. “You hung mine up?”
Daichi did not hesitate with his answer. “Of course I did. It was perfect.”
For the first time in their multitude of encounters, Suga was the one to blush. It was as though he were caught off guard by that sentiment. When Suga spoke next, his voice was very soft. “That is very kind of you to say. Perhaps I just had a good teacher.”
“Nah,” Daichi disagreed. “I had a lot of fun making that with you.”
A bit flustered, Suga was on a quest to switch the topic. “So, is that what brings you into my shop today? Just dropping by the gift?” Suga laid the wreath on the glass counter for safekeeping for the time being.
Daichi hesitated for a moment, breath catching in his lungs.
Now or never.
If there was ever a time he was due to be brave, it was at this moment.
“I wanted to book an appointment.” Daichi cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, hoping he looked more confident than he internally felt. “For a tattoo.”
That caught Suga’s attention, honey eyes widening in surprise. A little grin pulled at the corner of his lips then, the ash-blonde propping his elbows on the counter, hands folding together over the top of his sketch pad.
Out the corner of Daichi’s eye, he could see Kiyoomi, the piecer, watching with an interested gaze even though his expression was hidden behind his black mask.
“Oh?” Something akin to genuine interest settled on Suga’s face. “And what kind of tattoo would you like?”
That part was easy, despite the fact that Daichi never saw himself as a ‘tattoo guy’. He didn’t think he was cool enough to pull off ink of any kind, especially after seeing how effortlessly Suga rocked the look. However, the more he thought about it and the way that Suga drew flowers, the more he felt drawn to a final decision. If he were to get a tattoo, there was only one design he could envision for himself.
“A sunflower,” Daichi explained, “for Shoyo.” A beat passed as Daichi gathered his thoughts. “For me, he’s like the sun, bright and sparkling, even in the darkest of days. And I just, well, I’m destined to follow him.” His heart fluttered in his chest as he thought of his sweet boy, a guiding light to everyone he met. If you weren’t careful, you’d have to shield your eyes at how burning his tenacity and enthusiasm tended to be.
Daichi was lucky to be his father.
“A sunflower?” Suga’s grin grew wider as his eyes became a touch softer. “I think that’s a very fitting tribute. I am sure he will be thrilled.” He probably would, especially considering how much the little boy seemed to love Suga’s tattoos. “But I do have to ask - did something change your mind? You seemed…” his voice trailed off for a moment, as if trying to conjure the right word, “ah… hesistant, before.”
Trying to keep a casual air, Daichi shrugged. “Well, I was hoping I could summon just a little bit of courage… If I was brave enough to finally get a tattoo, then maybe, I’d be brave enough to ask you out to dinner.”
At that remark, the most beautiful sound left Suga, a laugh that was warmer than any mug of hot chocolate or roasting fireplace, sending heat to Daichi’s face just hearing it. “You think asking me to dinner is scarier than getting a tattoo that is permanently on your body?”
Nervously, Daichi chuckled, instinctively pawing at the back of his neck. “Uh, yes?”
“Oh, you silly boy.” Suga stood up straight then and walked from out behind the counter, coming to place himself right in front of Daichi. They only had a slight height difference, and now the object of his affection was so close, dangerously close. Daichi could smell his cologne, woodsy with a hint of bergamot. “I hardly think asking me is nerve-wracking.”
Rendered nearly incapacitated by their proximity, Daichi queried, “oh, and why is that?”
A hand came up to Daichi’s chest, those long, slender fingers still graced with those beautiful rings, various jewels reflecting the glow from the strand of Christmas lights hanging along the front of the glass counter. The slightest pressure applied to his sternum prompted Daichi to take one step backward, followed by a second and a third, until the pushing ceased and the pair was at a standstill.
“Because,” Suga’s voice came out soft, almost whisper-like, and nearly lost the cacophony of chatter happening on the street, just on the other side of the shop windows, “I would say ‘yes’.”
At that confession, the blood roared in Daichi’s ears and his palms began to sweat. Suga was still so very near, that hand still squared on the young dad’s chest - close, close, close .
“You would?”
“Mmm,” the tattoo artist hummed, the noise soothing. “I absolutely would. So maybe, you should give it a try?”
Swallowing heavily, Daichi ventured, “give what a try?”
“Ask me.” Suga somehow made the space between them even smaller. “To dinner.”
“Suga…” The brunette willed the words from his lungs, too enchanted by those honey eyes staring back at him, “would you go to dinner with me?”
Slowly, Suga’s arms came up to circle around Daichi’s neck, resting just at his nape, the tips of his fingers tracing the line of fine hair just at the base. “Yes,” he breathed, “I would love to.”
On instinct, Daichi placed his hands on Suga’s hips, tentative but still there, as if simply just getting a feel for the other man. Those gorgeous eyes were warm - watching, waiting. Daichi didn’t know what to say and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
“Daichi, do you know why I pushed you away from the counter?” The teasing tone in that question brought the young dad somewhat back to reality.
“To get us away from customers?” It was a good guess, to be fair. They were still in the main room of the shop, within eyesight of the piercing chair and anyone who might meander to the front counter. However, they were somewhat concealed by a partition, the slat wood divider covered in tattoo sketches of all shapes and colors.
Still looking smug as hell, Suga asked, “why don’t you try looking up?”
Obliging, Daichi brought his eyes upwards only to feel a little shockwave roll through his body. Dangling above them was a sprig of greenery, tied together with a bright red ribbon. It was affixed to a kitsch chandelier that worked well with the overall aesthetics of the shop.
“Is that–?”
“Mistletoe?” Suga so helpfully supplied. “I’d say so.”
Looking back down at Suga, the young dad choked out a laugh. “You’re a menace.”
“Maybe,” Suga shrugged, looking not even remotely offended by that comment, “but you like it.”
Unable to deny it, Daichi simply smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
All that was left was to close his eyes and lean forward, the supple, soft lips finding his own. They were pliant and warm, nothing at all like Daichi’s which were prone to be chapped from the cold. Tender and chaste, lasting not nearly long enough, Suga pulled away, the ash-blonde’s breath tickling Daichi’s reddened cheek. “Mmm, Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah,” Daichi breathed out, voice light and heart full, “Merry Christmas, Suga.”