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Suga adores Christmas time. It’s beautiful, with the twinkling lights reflecting off of glittering snow and decorations lining storefronts and homes alike. On nights when snow is actively falling, a warm light fills the air, giving the illusion of day. During the clear nights, Suga basks in the starlight. For the coldest of days, Suga bundles up in various scarfs gifted to him by his husband and his students, each having a special place in his heart.
Even the muddy slush that comes with the warmer days isn’t enough to convince Suga that December is anything less than gorgeous.
This December is no different. Suga nuzzles his nose a little deeper into the soft blue scarf Daichi had given him a year prior. It hadn’t been a Christmas gift, simply an, ‘I saw this and it reminded me of you,’ sort of thing. Those types of presents are Daichi’s specialty. Every scarf, every bouquet of flowers, every coffee, every mug… every knickknack that Suga owns that isn’t from one of his students, has found its way into Daichi and Suga’s home simply because Daichi thought Suga might like it.
And Daichi has been right every time.
Bundled up to protect him from the snow, Suga finishes his walk to the school from the train station. When he gets inside, he takes off his coat and his snow boots, but he leaves the scarf, letting it hang loosely against his chest.
“Sugawara-sensei,” cheers a small voice to his right. Suga looks down to see Aiko, who is holding a slightly squashed package. “I made this for you.”
Suga gives the girl a gentle smile, accepting the package before carefully brushing his pointer finger against her cheekbone. “For me? Thank you so much!” he says, his voice as bright as his smile.
The girl lets out a tinkling laugh before skipping back to her seat.
By the time class officially starts, Suga has collected a decent-sized pile of presents from his students. He knows he will cherish each one, but also refuses to open them yet. Some of his co-workers will open any presents they receive from their students immediately, but Suga waits until Christmas, and when he opens them, he does it beside Daichi. It’s tradition for them to sit on their sofa, discarding wrappings on the floor before them, talking about each child who gifted each little present.
The first time Suga ever receives a present while in a classroom, he finds that he is unable to wait until Christmas morning. He is nine-years-old and impatient, so he starts pulling at the ribbon holding the wrappings in place. Daichi, a boy he had first met at the beginning of the school year and had become quick friends with, stands awkwardly in front of him, shifting from foot to foot.
“It’s not much,” Daichi says, anxiously watching as Suga tears into the wrappings. His eyes are as big as saucers, and he is gripping the front of his sweater very tightly.
The gift really isn’t much, just a small ornament shaped like a reindeer, but Suga holds it close to his chest and gives Daichi a gap-tooth grin. “It’s perfect,” he says, his voice laced with awe.
Daichi gives Suga a relieved little grin in return.
During lunch a few hours later, Suga realizes something awful. “I didn’t get anything for you,” Suga says quietly, picking at his food. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind until now, and worry pits itself deep in his stomach.
Daichi just shrugs, his eyes soft. “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad we’re friends.”
The ornament breaks two years later, and after crying over it for a few minutes, Suga does his best to repair it with superglue.
He still pulls it out every Christmas. This year, it sits in a spot of honor on his shelf, easily visible from nearly every vantage point in the room.
“What are your Christmas plans, Suga-san?” Hikari asks, leaning against his desk in the teacher’s room. She is holding a large, red mug in her hands. Between her fingers, Suga can make out a cute little tree with a star on top.
It’s Hikari’s first year at the school, but based on the different mugs she brings daily, and the garland lining her desk, she seems to be just like Suga. A Christmas lover. A bright soul. Her smile is full of excitement as waits for Suga’s response, and when she takes a sip from her mug, the expression of joy shines in her eyes.
Suga feels a smile of his own tugging at his lips, and he lets a warm feeling into his heart. It’s something almost like nostalgia. “I’ll be spending it with my husband. We never do much. It’s enough to just exist beside him.”
Hikari nods wistfully. “You think I’ll get to meet him soon?” she asks, shifting so she is more sitting on Suga’s desk than leaning against it. Suga enjoys how comfortable Hikari is around him. The majority of their co-workers are a bit older. A bit stiffer. Hikari is younger than Suga by a year, and between the two of them, each with their bright and outgoing personalities, became close fairly quickly.
Though, there are still things that Suga isn’t quite ready to share with her. “Maybe someday,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “His work keeps him rather occupied.”
A flicker of disappointment flashes through Hikari’s eyes, but she doesn’t press the issue. It’s the same response she always gets. Instead, she nods her head to the picture Suga keeps on his desk. It happened a few years ago, but it’s still precious to Suga. In it, Daichi and Suga are squished between the old Karasuno team. They didn’t all fit on the Tanaka’s sofa, but they certainly tried. Suga sits on Daichi’s lap, and Daichi has his chin hooked over Suga’s shoulder.
While the whole team looks towards the camera, Dachi looks at Suga.
“I can’t wait to see if you two are this cute together in real life,” Hikari says, keeping her tone light.
Suga can’t help but laugh. “Trust me. You’d be sick of us within an hour.”
“Suga, please look at the camera,” Tanaka Shimizu says, the tiniest lilt of exasperation seeping into her voice. It wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone outside of this room, but the old Karasuno volleyball team knows Shimizu well enough.
Also, she has asked both Suga and Daichi to look at the camera four times now.
Suga lets out a giggle, swaying slightly on Daichi’s lap. He’s a couple of drinks in, and it’s definitely showing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, waving his hand like he is fanning away his mistake. He feels more than hears Daichi’s rumbling laugh behind him.
The Tanaka Christmas Party always ends up like this, the group desperately trying to get a ‘family photo’ while simultaneously being drunk enough to make it very difficult. They never seem to learn their lesson, though. This is their fifth year of doing it, and they still waited until the middle of the party to attempt the photography session. Suga makes a mental note, as he does every year, to remind Shimizu that they should take their picture before the drinks come out.
“Alright. Everyone smile,” Shimizu says, placated enough to continue. She clicks a button on the camera, then quickly makes her way to her husband’s side, settling on his knee.
Just as the flash goes off, Suga feels Daichi shift beside him, nudging his nose against Suga’s jaw. After a brief moment of silence, Suga erupts in a fit of giggles, curling himself deeper against Daichi’s chest. “I think we ruined your picture, Shimizu,” he laughs, eyes squinting as he looks at his unimpressed friend.
Tanaka Ryuunosuke lets out a bark of a laugh, rubbing his hands up and down Shimizu’s arms. “It’ll be fine. You two never look at the camera anyway. I swear, even back before you were dating, one of you was always looking at the other. It was almost painful.”
It takes a moment of pouting, but Shimizu eventually agrees, letting herself relax against her husband. “It still is painful,” she grumbles, so quiet that Suga barely even hears her. Again, it would be hard to notice to anyone who doesn’t know her, but she’s holding back a smile.
“C’mon,” Daichi says, settling his chin heavily atop Suga’s shoulder. He’s looking over at the Tanakas now. “We weren’t that bad.”
It’s Hinata that pipes up first, extracting himself from Kageyama’s grasp. “Oh, you were.”
Yamaguchi chimes in the moment Hinata is done speaking. “I’m glad you weren’t actually dating in high school. We would have gotten nothing done.”
“Please. We still got nothing done,” Tsukishima interrupts with a scoff. He looks at the drink in his hand like he can’t stand to look at the people around him. “There was too much pining. It was disgusting.”
Suga doesn’t comment on how much time Tsukishima used to spend simply watching Yamaguchi. He also doesn’t comment on how Yamaguchi gently squeezes the taller man’s thigh, just above the knee. At least the pining is over for all of them.
“I actually thought it was cute,” Yachi says, holding a half-eaten cookie. Suga watches as she studies him and Daichi, as if searching for something. A few moments later, she gives an assured nod of her head. “You still are cute.”
This is another reason why Suga loves Christmas. It’s the only time of year he can get together with all of his old friends. Now that they have seperate lives and jobs, some of them not even living in Japan anymore, there aren’t many occasions that they can all get together. Suga is sure to treasure every moment of every Christmas party.
Suga feels a little guilty about it, but he won't go to the Tanaka Christmas Party this year. Because of work, Daichi can’t make it, so Suga decides to stay home. It would just feel wrong to go without Daichi. To see their friends and have to answer questions and just…
Next year. Suga makes a promise to himself that he’ll go next year.
Are you alright?
The text is from Shimizu. Suga sends back a few words of reassurance. He almost makes himself believe his words too.
After school is over, and out for Christmas break, Suga decides to take the long way to the train station. He has a bag full of gifts from his students, which he has draped over his shoulder like Santa. Maybe now isn’t the most practical time to go window-shopping, but Suga has never led his life with a practical head. He’s a more ‘in the moment, make decisions from the heart’ type of guy. So he walks, letting himself get lost in the bright lights around him, music filtering through the air and keeping his mood light.
He doesn’t need to buy any gifts. All of the important ones are already taken care of, so he wanders aimlessly, peaking into different stores here and there. At one point he buys himself a treat, but he only eats half of it. He carefully folds the other half into a napkin and buries it in his pocket to take home.
It’s late by the time Suga actually makes his way over to the train station, his light blue scarf covering his nose and protecting him from the cold. It’s even later when he gets off the train and walks the short distance home.
But he still comes home to a dark, empty house. With a soft sigh, he reaches for his keys and unlocks the front door. With Daichi’s work, Suga is used to coming home first, even when he takes his time.
Still, it weighs on him. However hard he tries to hold on to the feeling from before—the brightness of the city and the warmth the season brings—it still slips away from him. Suddenly tired, he sets his bag of little gifts to the side and settles on to the sofa, not bothering to turn on any lights.
In the darkness, he can make out a little sprig of mistletoe hung above the doorway. “Dai,” he whispers to the darkness, despite knowing there will be no response. He can’t tear his eyes away from the little decoration. “Come home soon, please.”
“Isn’t putting mistletoe up a little cheesy?” Daichi asks, though he still holds the ladder steady as Suga works. There’s a slight smirk settled on his lips. It’s enough to make it obvious that he is joking.
Suga huffs indignantly at his boyfriend. They are decorating Suga’s apartment, which Suga always takes to the extremes. “How dare you insinuate I am anything but cheesy!” he squawks, nudging Daichi’s shoulder with his toe before turning all of his attention back to putting up the mistletoe. “Besides, don’t you want more excuses to kiss me?”
“Mmm, I suppose you have a point.”
It isn’t long before Suga is satisfied with the placement of the plant, and he quickly crawls down the ladder. The moment Suga is on solid ground, Daichi is folding up the ladder and putting it away. He is back in less than a minute, pulling Suga underneath the mistletoe and kissing him soundly.
“Can I do something even more cheesy?” Daichi asks against his lips, and he sounds like a swirling combination of nervous and excited. “I think you’ll like it.”
Before Suga can even answer, Daichi is pulling away. In most cases, Suga would pout at the action, or even squawk and demand he come back, but Daichi doesn’t just pull away. He kneels , and Suga can’t even breathe enough to pout.
Because Daichi is kneeling in front of him, a ring in his hands and the softest of expressions on his face. He is saying something, and it’s probably really romantic… or cheesy… or both, but Suga can’t even register the words. He’s too frozen. Too breathless.
“Yes,” he whispers the moment Daichi’s lips stop moving. “Yes,” he says again, despite not even hearing Daichi ask the question.
He collapses into his boyfriend—his fiance —and pulls him into another kiss.
“You know the mistletoe has to go up every year now, right?” Suga says later that night as he sits watching one of those cliche holiday movies while cuddling into Daichi.
His fiance simply smiles. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Every single year, the two of them put up the mistletoe together. Every day, they kiss under it. Goodmorning kisses. Goodnight kisses. Goodbye kisses. With every one, Suga is reminded of the day that Daichi had proposed. It never fails to make him smile.
This year, Suga was a little late putting the decorations up. Daichi still hasn’t kissed him under the mistletoe, but Suga can’t be mad about it.
It’s just because of work.
Seeing the mistletoe is enough. Or, at least, that’s what Suga tells himself.
No matter how much Suga loves Christmas, he always sleeps in as much as he can. Daichi’s arms are wrapped loosely around Suga’s waist, and his face is pressed against Suga’s shoulders. He’s warm and perfect, and when Suga wakes up, he doesn’t move.
He just studies his husband, watching the way the weak morning light interacts with his skin. He practically glows.
It’s their first Christmas together as a married couple, and Suga is determined to make it as perfect as possible. If that means a lazy morning in bed, then a lazy morning in bed they will have. Absently, he runs his fingers through Daichi’s close-cropped hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers.
It takes Daichi a while to wake up, and when he does, he simply holds Suga a little closer. “Merry Christmas, Koushi,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
“Merry Christmas, Dai,” Suga responds, unable to keep the smile off of his face.
This Christmas morning is different. Suga wakes up cold and alone. Instead of watching Daichi with warm eyes, as he has done every year for the last decade, Suga stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t cry, though he wants to. He can feel the pressure behind his eyes, but ignores them resolutely.
He’s spending Christmas with his husband. That’s what he had told Hikari, right? It’s how Suga wants to spend this Christmas. It’s how he has spent so many before. But reality crashes in, ruining his plans.
As if he can hold himself together, he wraps his arms around his waist and squeezes. The feeling is almost like what he is used to, the gentle tightening of Daichi’s arms when he wakes up… but how long has it been? Suga feels like this—his own arms—are too desperate. Too tight.
Knowing that he shouldn’t just waste the day away in bed, Suga lets go of his stomach and drags himself out of bed. It’s colder now that he is away from his blanket, but he doesn’t let the chill drive him back into bed.
Christmas with his husband.
Slowly, Suga gets himself ready for the day. He pulls on clothes, though purposefully wears an old pair of Daichi’s socks. He tugs on his coat too, and looks around for a scarf. He has a drawer full of them, and after digging through it, he comes up with a red one that Daichi had given to him back in highschool. Before they were even dating.
After wrapping the scarf around his neck, tucking his nose into it, Suga grabs the bag full of gifts from his students and drapes it over his shoulder. He stills, staring up at the mistletoe in the doorway. Frozen. He allows himself to breathe like that for a few moments, trying to remember each and every kiss he shared with Daichi beneath the decoration. Then he steadies himself and goes out into the cold.
Daichi’s voice is low as he sings to Suga. Low and quiet, so no one else hears. He sings in English, and Suga can tell some of his pronunciation is off, but Suga still thinks this is the perfect way to spend Christmas Eve. Dancing underneath the twinkling stars, the full moon reflecting off of the snow, lighting up the world around them.
“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Daichi sings gently, his lips against Suga’s jaw. “You can plan on me.”
Suga stifles a little laugh, pulling back just enough to look at Daichi. “I think your chief knows better than to keep you away from me on Christmas,” he says jokingly. There’s only one day a year Daichi specifically asks off, and sure a lot of other cops ask for Christmas off too, but Daichi always gets it.
It might help that Suga had met the Chief of Police at a Christmas party three years prior, the year they got engaged, and had won her over. He had definitely tried his best to convince the woman that Daichi had to have every single Christmas off.
Fortunately, she agreed.
Thank goodness.
“Mmm, she sure does,” Daichi agrees, his eyes crinkling with his smile. He’s no longer singing, but his voice is still just as warm. “Nothing could keep me away from you on your favorite day, Koushi.”
Suga suppresses a shiver and buries himself into his coat, a gloved hand coming up to tighten his scarf around his face. His bag of gifts sits beside him, half on the blanket he had brought and half on the snowy ground.
This year, Suga doesn’t get to open his presents on the sofa, sitting beside Daichi in the warmth of their home. Instead, he is on a blanket that barely does anything to protect him from the cold ground, sitting before a tombstone.
“Merry Christmas, Daichi,” Suga says quietly, ignoring the tremble in his voice. Again, he tries to pull his coat tighter around him, as if the material stretched taut around him could make any of this easier.
He tries to smile, and almost manages it. “My students are as cute as ever. Is it okay if we open my presents from them together? I didn’t want to do it without you.”
Suga doesn’t wait for a response. He knows he won’t receive one. Quietly, he grabs the bag and pulls out the first present. “This one is from Akira. He broke his arm a month ago after a crash on his bike, you know. I think he’ll get the cast off before I see him next.”
And so it goes, Suga opening each present carefully while he gives little updates. He tells Daichi about Hana’s new fish and the drawings Isamu leaves on all of his homework. He recounts the story of how Katashi had randomly started singing one day, and had gotten the whole class to sing with him, Suga included.
He does it all with a shaky smile, unwilling to let himself cry—unwilling to let himself remember what had brought Daichi here. He tries to keep his mind off of the call he had gotten that night in April. He tries not to think of the Chief of Police showing up to his doorstep to offer her condolences. Her words, “He was a good man,” rang too loudly in his head then, but he blocks out the echo of them now. He doesn’t let himself be transported back into the courtroom where he watched the man that killed Daichi get his sentence.
Because Daichi is so much more than those moments. Daichi is still, and forever will be, warm arms wrapped around Suga’s waist. Soft lips against his jaw and a rumbling laugh against his back. Mistletoe kisses and proposals, and gifts given without any reason.
He is scarves and mugs and knickknacks and coffee bought ‘just because.’ He is photographs where he is looking at Suga instead of the camera, and he is Christmas songs beneath the stars. He is lazy mornings and late nights and baking cookies in the kitchen.
So, Suga smiles and unwraps his gifts one by one, because Daichi is in this moment, as he has been for the entirety of Suga’s life.
Like every Christmas before now, Suga spends this one with his husband, and when he goes home to his dark and empty house, he doesn’t let himself feel alone. Quietly, he sits himself on the sofa and looks across to the shelf that holds a slightly misshapen, but well loved, ornament shaped like a reindeer.
And he knows Daichi is still with him.
“Merry Christmas, Suga,” Daichi says. It’s their third year in highschool, and Suga wishes, more than anything, that Daichi would call him by his given name. Koushi .
Maybe, then, they could spend Christmas as a couple. And continue to spend every Christmas after this one together. Get a house and decorate it and…
Suga tears his mind away from those thoughts. They still have their whole lives ahead of them. All of that is possible. So, he simply smiles and murmurs a soft, “Merry Christmas, Daichi” in return.