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~*~
“Oh look, they illuminated the square even more!” Ren gasped when they tumbled out of the underground passage, each carrying a few bags’ worth of shopping. Sweaty, tired and miffed after waiting for so long in queues, they trudged on, carrying their precious loot home. Mainly groceries. A lot of vegetables, citrus, rice, some extra fancy ingredients and seasonings for whatever new dish Ren was whipping out this Christmas, a bottle of wine. Or four.
“I mean seriously, this is way bigger than last year!”
Goro groaned, disinterested, trying to flex his tormented fingers, squished with the weight of the bags despite the protection of leather gloves.
“Yeah, let’s waste more energy on street decor, why don’t we.” He never even looked in the direction of the prancing neon deer and several Christmas trees flooded with fairy lights and red baubles. “As if the human race didn’t do enough fucking damage already.”
At this, Ren opened his mouth - and then sagely shut it. Through a series of errors, he’d learned to better leave statements like this without evaluation. They usually didn’t even mean anything; they weren’t an invitation to discuss any given topic. It was a tough lesson to acquire, how to differentiate the ‘well you’re wrong, and here’s why’ from the ‘I’m grumpy and I need to be away from idiots, you included’. With Goro, the line could be surprisingly fluid.
Still, Ren was getting pretty proficient at it and figured when he’s allowed to poke the bear with about 87% accuracy these days. He made a call that now was one of those times when he’d be allowed to push it.
“...Are the bags not too heavy?” He asked innocently, flashing Goro an angelic smile. A murderous stare was all he got in response. “If you think you’re getting tired, you can pass me a bag or two, honey. It’s no big deal.”
“Over my dead and rotten body,” Goro hissed with such a face that an elderly lady holding a chihuahua changed directions so as not to pass them by.
“This really isn’t that much bigger than the regular grocery shopping we do for a week,” Ren said in an amused tone, giving the granny an amicable nod.
“Wouldn’t be so sure,” Goro scoffed. “Somehow I don’t see quail eggs, puff pastry, premium lobster or maguro tuna on the table every week. Oh and the wine, the name of which you can’t pronounce correctly. Unless you’ve been secretly feeding it all to Kitagawa without me knowing,” he harrumphed with a deep crease across his forehead.
A small smirk blossomed on Ren’s face. “If I did, you would have surely felt it under your ace detective hands. He would have filled up in a few places,” they finally, finally reached the parking lot, and both gave a sigh of relief at the sight of a familiar clunker Ren bought last year, liquidating the leftovers of their little Metaverse fortune.
“Don’t try to appease me,” Goro grunted, hefting the weight of the bags up and putting them into the trunk. “Cuz it won’t work.”
“I’m not trying to appease you!” Ren laughed, rearranging the groceries so that they wouldn’t fall or spill, while Goro leaned on the side of the car, exhausted, flexing his fingers grumpily.
“You are. You’re putting certain images in my head to distract me from the fact we’ve been stuck here for hours,” he shot Ren a look.
“Oh goodness gracious, certain images? I would never dare,” Ren completely ignored the unveiled complaint. Trunk shut and the half-crossed-out list in hand, he smuggled a peck to Goro’s cheek and grabbed his arm. “What kind of images? Are they of… indecent nature?”
“...You know very well what nature they are,” Goro groaned, allowing Ren to pull him back into the crowd of shoppers.
The asphalt glistened with the melting snow and illuminations from the store windows, and ropes of paper lanterns above their heads gave out a warm, golden glow. The center of the square shone with the small forest scene Ren had noticed earlier, the halo easy to spot from far away, like that of a Metaverse treasure, almost.
Goro was walking with a stormy face, staring at the decorated trees like they personally offended him. The abundance of festive garlands, fake snow scattered around and, God forbid, happy people acted like pepper spray.
Ren could see how Goro drew his shoulders up, hiding in his shell more and more. Rarely a tortoise, always a porcupine; good that the spikes weren’t out just yet.
“Hey, won’t be long now,” Ren promised, this time seriously.
“...You said that an hour ago.”
“We’re still escaping most of the queues and traffic jams. It’s just Tokyo.”
“I realize that.”
“One more place and we’re done.” Ren tightened his hold reassuringly. “If I don’t get what I need for this cake, I’m just going to choose a different recipe.”
Goro stopped abruptly and practically demanded that Ren looked him in the eye.
“Whatever you’ve concocted for the holidays, just… Just promise me it’s not going to be a big traditional Christmas thing, would you?” He said with a frown, permanently frozen on his features now. “Nothing overly fancy, nothing… doctrinal, I beg you. Not everyone must be religious, and—”
“I’m not, you know that very well, and while Yusuke pays more attention to the traditional side of things, I really think you’re safe,” Ren said slowly and cautiously, turning to face him fully.
“Right. But then please don’t bring up the time where I got resurrected, okay? Because it wasn’t that. And I don’t want to make an anniversary of it…”
“Goro, you know how I feel about it, but if you don’t want to bring it up, we won’t,” Ren’s voice betrayed a little hurt, but it was still soft. “You can take however long you need to process it. That is a given.”
Goro nodded, a bit calmer. Then he recalled something and spiralled immediately. “Let’s not put up a Christmas tree, alright? None of the fake shit.”
“There’s not enough space in the apartment anyway,” Ren shrugged.
“And the presents, please don’t pick up something too expensive, we need to talk about—”
“—Hey, don’t work yourself up,” Ren reached to rub at his arms, which Goro obviously didn’t allow, but he didn’t turn away and started walking either. Ren moved close. Something about the upcoming holidays seemed to authentically eat at Goro, and was therefore a ticking bomb, threatening to destroy the first shred of excitement he might have felt for their Christmas together.
The first Christmas in his life which he’d spend casually, without a looming threat to his freedom or, indeed, his very existence. First holidays he’d spend surrounded with a family that truly cared about him, for a change. The first year of the three of them living together.
“...I already promised, didn’t I?” Ren fished for his eyes, but Goro avoided him. “I’m going to cook us a good dinner, you’ll pour the wine, Yusuke can pick the music. The chance of it being carols is… practically zero. We’re going to spend some quality time together, exchange some good wishes if we feel like it, and then little gifts, which are within the pre-established budget. And that’s it. We don’t have to do anything we don’t like.”
“Your friends are gonna drop by.” Goro’s shoulders were still squared, his lips pursed tight.
“Yes, they might. I mean, Ryuji will for sure. He’ll bring a crate of beer and a kung-fu movie, there’s this chick he made friends with lately, they keep binging 80’s flicks… you don’t have to worry about a gift for him, because he surely forgot.”
Goro’s left shoulder relaxed a fraction under the mustard trench. A new mustard trench, very much like that old one. “And speaking of presents, we said little things, mostly of sentimental value…”
“...which are within the budget.”
“We’ve already exceeded the budget.”
“We made a spreadsheet. We’re fine.”
Akechi sighed, looking away. He looked like he tried to forcibly bring his muscles, nerves and even hair follicles under control and order them all to let the fuck go, and now.
“And we’re going to see Sōjirō and Futaba the next day,” he continued after he levelled out. Ren nodded slowly, squeezing his hand through the knit of his own blue glove.
“Yes. We’ll have the best coffee this side of Sumida and warm up with hot curry. You need to beware of the board games, though, Sōjirō is a menace in Monopoly. You would never have guessed from the way he runs LeBlanc,” Ren made a funny face, and Goro huffed out a breath of amusement, but still didn’t loosen up, in fact, seemed to tense even more at the notion of seeing the Sakuras.
“Is that still alright…?” Ren asked cautiously. “You said you wanted to go.” No response. “We can cancel, but—”
“I would never rob you of the time with your family, regardless of how complicated my own feelings towards them are. We’re invited and we’ve accepted, so. We’re gonna be there.” Goro fidgeted. And suddenly it clicked, and Ren released a swooshing, knowing sigh.
He bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, levelling Goro with a stare.
“You saw the card, huh?”
Goro’s eyes settled on him in all their garnet glory, a bit too wide in an anxious expression, which looked foreign on his face. Maybe because of that split second of unfamiliarity, Ren was suddenly dumbstruck with how beautiful this boy was. Standing in front of him in his absurdly thin, impractical trench coat, surrounded with falling snow settling on his hair and eyelashes.
“Goro. That’s all it is. A card. A passive-aggressive piece of paper, designed to ruin my day and guilt trip me into compliance. There is no positive, caring thought behind it, I assure you,” Ren said quietly.
Goro blinked the snowflake away. “So you’re not going to visit?”
“No,” Ren shook his head. “I don’t take well to emotional blackmail. Now I’m gonna need at least another year. Or several. Not quite sure yet.”
Goro’s breath eased up visibly, and for a moment he was standing there reciprocating the squeeze of Ren’s hand, hard and fast, without a smile. Then he looked away, his face neutral again.
“Was this what got you so worried?” Ren asked, observing him carefully. “Why?”
“Let us get moving please so that we finish before nightfall? Preferably?” Goro sassed and started walking in the direction of their next stop.
Ren shook his head, following; he latched on to the puzzle at hand with all of his idle brain cells, registering the hasty, sharp movements, pale, narrow lips, the hand squeezing his own in a too-tight, compulsive grip that Goro was unaware of.
It was a gamble to pursue this, but Ren felt the need to.
“...You were worried that I’m gonna ditch you and Yusuke for my homophobic, narcissistic parents. On our first official Christmas together, no less.” Goro didn’t look back, didn’t even acknowledge Ren talking, pushing through the crowds with a determination worthy of a better cause. Ren watched him do this with an almost-fondness, seeing his gait falter, the cracks in his shell grow deeper with every step. He wanted to dig his fingers into those cracks. Help them along, pry his ribs open, take the soft inside into his hands and squish it, press it close to his own chest, where the warmth was.
“...And you wouldn’t even blame me; you just said you’d never rob me of the time with my family. Except you didn’t mean Sōjirō at all. How long have you been stewing over this, exactly?”
The cracks in the marble reached Goro’s face.
“Okay, Goro, stop. Is Yusuke sitting at home, panicking over this too?” Ren halted abruptly, and Goro realized just how tight he’d been gripping Ren’s hand when the movement pulled at his arm. Ren frowned urgently.
“Is he? ”
“No! I knocked it out of him, obviously.” Goro muttered grumpily, avoiding Ren’s eyes.
“But not out of yourself,” Goro shook his head and tried to urge them on, but Ren wouldn’t budge. He maneuvered them closer to the decorated lamp post to make space for the passers-by and wrapped an arm around Goro’s waist, despite vivid protests.
“Not on the street—”
“—You’ll never let me revisit it later. Listen to me, I get it, I get the why of it all, and I don’t expect it to go away anytime soon. Maybe ever. But you need to notice it, okay? To be able to recognize it, and stop tormenting yourself with endless scenarios of me, or me and Yusuke, doing something horrible to you.” He took a deep breath. “Rejecting you. It’s not gonna happen.”
Goro hissed, backed into a corner enough to lash out, but he couldn’t, tempered by the people flocking around. “...Enough of this armchair psychology,” he seethed, “you’re starting to sound an awful lot like your deranged counsellor.”
“I can do better. You’re living every day as if we were to break up tomorrow,” Ren pinned him with a pointed look, sharp like his dagger. “Like every interaction could be a potential goodbye, like you’re expecting this to end any second. But Goro, we’re not leaving.”
“Enough.”
“We’re not leaving. We’re never leaving you,” Ren said lovingly, and every word made Goro cringe and defend in reflex as if the softer Ren spoke the more it hurt. “I’m not leaving you. I’m going to make it my life’s goal to make you believe it, you won’t be alone, ever again. You’re not spending any more Christmases alone.”
Goro was pushing at Ren’s shoulder, trying to twist away from him, and the snow was rapidly melting on his cheeks. Ren watched it mesmerized, the pristine fractals disappearing into dew on the frost-pinched face. Something ripped inside him; he had to hold Goro close.
He perfidiously dislodged Goro’s ankle, grinned at the livid ‘fuck!’ and pushed him out of the curb and into the huge Christmas tree, wrapped in fairy lights. Goro had no choice but to hold onto Ren’s shoulders to keep his balance or risk ruining his coat in mud, sap and spruce needles. With a victorious grin, Ren wrapped his arms fully around Goro’s waist; ‘I love you,’ he murmured, watching how the marble slowly, slowly chips off and reveals the bone and marrow underneath. Goro’s eyes, as always when vulnerable, turned hostile. Just for a second. Just long enough for Ren to know he’s holding the real one.
He almost laughed, admiring his bristling boyfriend. It was freaking absurd, he was holding a flushed Akechi Goro under a bright Christmas tree, with the big, fat snowflakes falling around them in a veil of white. Colorful lights scintillated in the amber eyes. It was beautiful; a movie-like rendition of the happiest timeline, a still plate of a moment so perfect that it couldn’t be allowed to exist for long, lest it ruined some grand scheme of things or threw the world off its axis.
Ren tightened his hold with one arm and brushed the mousey hair away from Goro’s cheek. Akechi jerked away, clearly circulating several expletives in his mind trying to decide on the right one, but his eyes wandered up, lingering on all the decor. Red bows and white feathers and a golden star on top of the tree, all peppered with soft dots of light.
God, how beautiful he was. The spruce needles started to tangle in his hair, so he moved away, causing the red bauble to sway back and forth next to his head. It shed tiny flecks of glitter everywhere. A singularity. A miracle.
Such a trivial little thing.
They could stay like this for all eternity if one of them didn’t eventually let the other win. Usually it was Ren, but not today. Today Ren held Goro long enough for him to start feeling self-conscious, so he rolled his eyes and nodded his capitulation, and Ren graciously let him regain his balance.
Goro fixed his clothing with fast, determined movements, pulling at the scarf to center it on his neck and smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles on his trench. Ren still watched, letting the moment go, cataloging it for later in a small guarded safebox of his heart. Placing it carefully next to other precious seconds he’d shared with Yusuke.
Goro inhaled sharply, and his shoulders heaved once, up-down, ready to go. His lips moved as he said something, but at the same time a group of people passed them by immersed in a loud conversation and belly laughter, so Ren couldn’t hear it.
He leaned in with an inquisitive “Mm?” asking for Goro to repeat it, but Akechi swiveled away and tugged Ren along in the direction of the shop again.
“Oh come on now. Say it again,” Ren smiled, trying not to let his extremely fond suspicions show.
“I said, the being alone part was never a problem,” Goro’s nose was aimed at the sky. “It's not what I hate about Christmas. I was perfectly fine in my apartment with no one there to bother me during holidays.”
Ren groaned. “...You’re dodging, but. Have it your way,” he gave Goro a judging look. “It’s not even a good dodge, I know you don’t hate Christmas.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do!”
“You don’t have a problem with Christmas itself, you just don’t like the social obligations piling up and the pressure that comes with gifting things,” Ren allowed himself a little exasperated shrug. “But this comes with other occasions, too. You’re acting the same every birthday.”
“No, I do hate Christmas, and Christmas specifically above any other celebration or festival,” Goro seethed.
Ren gave up. “Okay, explain,” he said, turning one eye on the list. Candied orange peel. Powdered sugar, shredded almonds. Vanilla extract.
“...I hate charity,” Goro muttered. “And Christmas is all about it, isn’t it? No one should be alone at Christmas, every child should get a gift from Santa! The greedy go down from their ivory towers, suddenly feeling generous, the sinners become pious and the wicked pose as great benefactors, while people like us are given miserable scraps and are expected to be grateful.” He pulled his scarf tighter against a gust of wind, which brought in a whirlwind of snow. “I just… I hate it. All of them make me puke.”
Ren let the list drop.
They walked in silence for a moment, but Goro slowed down visibly. Adjusting his steps to match, Ren found his gloved hand again and squeezed.
“All of those people, passing us by even now, never once sparing a thought on why this is such a commercial occasion,” Akechi scoffed. “All the food that goes to waste, all the money that’s spent to impress the bullying bosses, the hectolitres of jet fuel lost on delivering postcards to disinterested relatives abroad. There’s really no point to any of this, except keeping pretences,” Goro swallowed loud. “...You know, once we got a Christmas tree and stuff to decorate it from the Red Cross. It stood in the living room downstairs, and we did our best to decorate it. But half of the stuff was broken. So we made paper chains and stars out of tin foil.”
Ren’s eyebrows went up in a smile as he imagined little Goro kneading tin foil into small ornaments.
“Before you say anything, it looked pathetic,” Goro cut him off.
Ren’s voice was very careful. “Didn’t the teacher or a caretaker help you?”
“Too busy,” Goro looked at the display window of a bakery they were passing by, skimming over the gingerbread houses in the gingerbread cities, adorned with white chocolate rivers. “One of them looked, said it was nice, but… well, they had some legal issues at the time, it was plenty hard to keep us lodged in a building that had heating, so.”
Ren tsk-ed. “It seems like something you should never say to a child. Especially on Christmas.”
Goro grimaced. “See, even you are doing that! Especially on Christmas. Knock it off!”
“But you don’t deny that someone said it to you,” Ren insisted, “this is an adult phrase. You didn’t invent it, you picked it up. You were a kid and an adult dumped all of this on you, out of frustration or incompetence, I don’t know, but it only served to frighten you,” Ren couldn’t wrap his head around it. “What were you even supposed to do with this information? It was cruel.”
“It was the truth!” Goro snapped. “I’ll take it over pity any day.”
Back to square one, Ren thought, walking beside Goro through the snowy pavement. It was a struggle to lead Akechi out of the maze of his own making, but it was getting a bit easier overall; this seemed like a temporary relapse, triggered by the circumstances. And physical tiredness, too. Contrary to Ren’s promise, they were still stuck shopping, while the sky had darkened already - they were getting colder and more hungry by the minute. Ren decided necessities come first.
“...Hey, uh. Just a few more minutes. I’ll grab everything quickly and we can be on our way. Do you want me to buy some hot chocolate for later? It would be good to warm up.”
“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” Goro muttered absentmindedly. “Remember the marshmallows for Yusuke.”
Warmth splashed behind Ren’s sternum at this casual remark. He opened the door for Goro trying to hide his face in the coat collar.
Luckily Ren found everything he needed and the shop wasn’t even crowded. However, just when they were leaving the store, he noticed his boyfriend spacing out in the queue, staring at the glass fridge counter.
There was a small kid just next to him, glued to the glass pane like an oversized catfish. The boy was making chirpy excited noises at the displayed abundance of cakes, doughnuts and glazed pastries, his eyes round as saucers. His mom tried to negotiate buying one kind of pastry over another, but the boy clearly couldn’t make up his mind.
“Oh but this one looks like it’s covered in snoooow,” the boy oooh-ed and then giggled excitedly, pointing at three different eclairs one by one. “And this one is like, with berries! But sugar berries!”
“Yes, that’s holly. It has red, round berries. Do you want this one? We can get one kind, sweetie.”
“I dunno, maybe this one, no, yes, this one…”
“Pick which one you want, and try not to lick the fridge, okay? It’s not very nice to lick it.”
“Icicle one! Icicle one!”
“Alright. Now wait a few more minutes. It’s our turn soon, see? Not long now.”
Ren squeezed Goro’s hand hard and fast.
It was high time to get home.
~*~
The door leading to their apartment had been left ajar, and there was a trail of dirt leading from the elevator to the doorstep. Goro bolted from the lift, almost dropping the bags in a reflex to run and protect their safe haven and Yusuke…!
…But there was no burglar to tackle, just the muddied genkan absolutely packed with green branches and torn paper wrapping.
“What the hell?!” Ren called, running up behind Goro. They had to put the groceries down and push the door open to squeeze in; something moved heavily on the other side, making the tale-telling sound of scouring the floor. Ren stuck his head into the opening.
A huge bush, wrapped in brown packing paper and tied with string gracefully tilted backwards and collapsed on the floor, taking down some other things with an ungodly clangor. They could see Morgana sprinting for his life from under the branches, grinding to an abrupt halt in the bedroom curtains, with a shrieking, panicked meow. Yusuke ran up to greet them, wringing his hands at the mess.
“Oh please forgive me, I recklessly blocked the entrance, it’s my bad,” he said, putting aside whatever tiny thing he was holding to pick the conifer up. His hands were stained with glue and paint, and his hair had straw in it, of all things.
“Yusuke has been torturing me!” Morgana complained from the shredded curtains. “He has the whole house upside down!”
“Grave exaggeration,” Yusuke sent a judgemental eyebrow towards the cat. “Let me help you with those bags… I had hoped to finish before you came back, but it proved to be an impossible task. The help is on the way though,” he grunted, heaving the bush back to the vertical position.
Ren grunted, finally getting into the apartment and pushing the branches aside to make an opening. “Yusuke, what is this?!”
“...Clearly, that’s a conifer,” Akechi hissed under his breath.
“A Christmas tree, of course!” Yusuke answered with sacred outrage. “How can we have a Christmas without a Christmas tree? Anyway I am almost finished with the decorations,” he pivoted in place, looking for the thing he held earlier, and lifted it up for them both to see.
It was a black crow, made out of felt, with several long curly feathers stuck in its tail.
“There’s surprising joy to be found in making these,” Yusuke beamed. “You can reuse so much scrap material, combine so many textures and fabrics. I honestly thought this is rather… grade school project, but just a tiny bit of research proved me abysmally wrong,” he kept talking on his trip to the living room and back, bringing more trinkets and little ornaments for inspection.
A nutcracker doll, glued together from chunky pieces of wood and expertly painted. A felt Arsène with real black feather wings. Pinecones sprayed with grey paint, imitating mice, with paper masks of their respective Thieves.
“Folk decor made of straw, wood and paper is fantastically unique across Eurasia. It’s art, I can see it clearly now, and the creativity you need to produce it honestly blows my mind,” Yusuke kept talking. “These, for example, were given to me by a fellow student, her grandma is from Kazakhstan.”
He proudly displayed a string of straw stars bound with a red thread. “Can you imagine how much work goes into each of these? And the lady is apparently ninety-three. Spectacular,” he muttered and ran back to the room.
“Yusuke, we agreed we’re not doing anything grand this Christmas!” Ren called after him, glancing nervously at Akechi. His face showed absolutely nothing.
“But how is this anything grand, when I managed to prepare it in the span of a single afternoon?” Yusuke’s upper body emerged from behind the door frame. “The least we can do is to give ourselves a semblance of what we never had growing up. And a proper Christmas tree is one of those things.”
He shrugged like the topic was over, put the ornaments away and trotted to the kitchen, bringing a plate of rolled cake with a black, grainy filling. Ren inspected it suspiciously; it seemed rather dry and didn’t have a clear scent.
“Is that… poppy seed?” he chanced a guess.
“Indeed, and it’s delicious,” Yusuke nodded with enthusiasm. “That’s from another student friend, she brought some for everyone in the class.”
Yusuke put the plate away and bit his lip as if debating with himself whether to say something or not.
“We… We spent a lot of time discussing the differences between traditions across our homes, and I think I came to a worthwhile conclusion,” he said finally, brushing the navy hair away from his face with a slightly shaking hand. “Since we never had a chance to grow up within a tradition, we can just as well choose it for ourselves now. Because whoever said we cannot?”
He fidgeted with the placement of the plate needlessly. Ren and Akechi glanced at each other; it was obvious their boyfriend needed to say something he’d tried to prepare before.
Morgana approached quietly on his cat paws, giving them both a calming nod; right, if anything, Morgana would have been the recipient of lengthy monologues and self-pep-talks leading up to this conversation.
“...They have this touching custom in Eastern Europe,” Yusuke started, bracing himself on the table, and Akechi grew stiff like a broomstick next to Ren as if anticipating what was to come. “When sitting down to Christmas supper, they leave one empty place at the table, for an unforeseen guest. So that anyone who knocks at their door on Christmas Eve, be it a friend, a stranger or even an enemy, can sit down with them and be welcome. Be equal among them and eat his fill.”
He laughed shortly again, a bit bitter this time, and Ren felt a pang of guilt. Yusuke had been eating well ever since Ren had anything to say about it, but still…
“...Which is obviously a metaphor, a meaning dressed in simple images to convey the human need for a home,” Yusuke wrapped up the thought and stood up straight, looking straight at Akechi.
In two strides of his spindly legs he was with him, holding his hands in an ardent confession.
“It reminded me so much of the fact that you came back on Christmas Eve. Just like that, you re-entered our lives and thankfully stayed for good,” he said, peeling off Goro’s glove. “I wasn’t there to see you… but Ren was, and we’d both love to have such a vivid reminder of it in a form of our chosen tradition. I believe it’s beautiful, and… and it appeals to me also, on a personal level. But you’re so cold! Are you alright?” Yusuke asked quickly, blowing hot breath on the naked palm and pressing it to his cheek to warm it up.
Ren watched Goro with a half-terrified, half-amused expression, knowing not how the hell to react. Akechi blinked owlishly, twice.
“...Yeah, I’ll warm up,” he croaked.
“Perfect. Let me help you with the groceries, then,” Yusuke kissed the top of Goro’s palm and let it go to take one of the bags from behind Ren.
The mess on the floor was horrendous. Ren eyed the dirt footprints Yusuke left behind and cat paws on the wall, as high as the bookshelf; he gave Morgana a stare. If he really were a cat, Morgana would have hissed, but as he was - the embodiment of human hope in a cat form - he just turned tail and started to groom himself.
“...Was there a pot for this, by any chance?” Ren asked, looking at the tangled heap of roots soiling his pristine floors.
“Oh, yes there was,” Yusuke threw over his shoulder, unpacking the contents of the bag.
“Ah. And where is it, darling?”
“Oh, I threw it away,” Yusuke grimaced. “It was hideous. We wouldn’t have any use of it.”
As Ren was praying for patience to any deity that was still listening, the elevator dinged and a familiar slouching figure with a bleached blond hair approached.
“Someone said sumtin’ about an emergency?” Ryuji asked, hitting Ren’s back in greeting and nudging Goro’s shoulder. “Whatcha all standing here for like that?”
“Ryuji, so good to see you!” Yusuke smiled. “I need this set up in the living room and I couldn’t, for the love of me, figure out how. Please help.”
Ryuji looked at the tousled shrubbery miserably propped at the wall and did a double take.
“But it’s a conif—”
“—Christmas tree,” Akechi corrected.
Ren and Ryuji froze; Goro’s tone was serious. Ryuji scowled like he had to check if Goro’s feeling okay, and they held each other’s glares, which were slowly morphing from uncertain to conspiratory. “...A Christmas tree,” Ryuji reiterated.
“...Yes.”
“A new species?” Ryuji asked.
“Introduced this year,” Akechi didn’t even blink and they exchanged slow, thoughtful nods and knowing murmurs. Ren’s heart almost burst from happiness at seeing them connect, and thank fuck it happened more and more often these days, despite a very bumpy start.
“Right. Okay, do you have a pot for it?” Ryuji asked, turning to Yusuke.
“What’s with everyone asking me about the pot?”
"Bro," Ryuji groaned, “ya know the answer to this question. Alright, where is it? Gimme,” he urged him on and Yusuke dived under the sink, producing a black container from the plastic recyclables.
“Ryuji, it’s so awful, can’t we…”
“The tree has to stand somehow, no? Ya can’t just prop it up the wall! There, hold it,” Ryuji handed over a six-pack of beer to Akechi, shrugged off his hoodie and threw it at him, too. Goro caught it just in time to prevent a few DVDs from falling out of the pockets. “Just cover it up with somethin’, it’s not a big effin’ deal!”
“...Maybe for you. What are you… ugh,” Yusuke muttered unhappily, watching Ryuji shoehorn the fanned out roots back to their former prison. He had to put his back into it.
“You wanted my help, right? So no whining!” Ryuji spilled even more dirt everywhere, but eventually, the conifer sat up straight. They tore the paper away and tossed it aside.
Akechi inspected the DVD boxes he was holding and showed the “Buddha Assassin” one to Ren, angling the cover so that Ryuji wouldn’t see. Ren heaved a deep, helpless sigh and bent to collect the remaining shopping bags.
“Alright foxy, where ya want it?” Ryuji asked, hefting the enormous conifer up and wobbling towards the living room with the painter at his heels.
“Don’t call him that!” Ren yelled from the kitchen.
“Do I wanna know?” Ryuji asked, and Yusuke shrugged with a small, unaffected smile.
“Oh, they call me that in bed,” he explained, securing the swaying end of the conifer, and Ryuji rolled his eyes.
“...I did not wanna know.”
Akechi stepped over the dirt and into the kitchen, aiming for the broom. Ren saw a small, stray smile tugging at the corner of his lips, making him look younger and a bit more like himself. He caught the edge of his sleeve and pulled.
“You okay?”
Akechi dawdled with the answer, bumping the broom on the chair’s leg a few times. “Yeah,” he said. “I should have figured it’s not charity you’re trying to give me.”
And he smiled, truly smiled, like he hadn’t been smiling in the whole past week. The corners of his eyes creased a lot in this genuine expression, and while Goro would be dismayed to know about it, the ice shard in Ren’s heart melted more and more, the deeper those creases were.
“Hey ‘Kechi, dude, come see this shit!” Ryuji called from the living room, then came to the kitchen himself anyway with Morgana in tow. The cat hopped on the table and curiously inspected the inside of the bag, undoubtedly looking for the requested tuna. “Did you see the stuff Yusuke made? It’s next level, bro, I didn’t know he can sew and like, build an' shit. He put an awful load of work into this,” he said, ripping at the beer wrapping and setting a can in front of each of them.
“I saw,” Akechi said quietly, accepting the treat and cracking his beer open. “It’s great.”
“There’s some leftover stuff. Let’s make something,” Ryuji suggested, grinning like a madman and twirling a champagne cork in his fingers. “This one looks like Shido’s head! Just draw the glasses on and it's done.”
“Why would I want a Shido puppet on my Christmas tree,” Goro took a sip.
“Dunno, you could hang him by the neck,” Goro snorted the beer out of his nostrils and they all hit a full-blown fit of laughter, barely keeping upright in the small, messy kitchen. Wet on the face, flushed up red and happy, Goro went to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Yusuke was waiting for him when he emerged.
“Come,” he said only, slipping a small domino mask into his hands and pulling him towards the tree, taking up half of the living room. They hung the ornament up together, threading the delicate golden string through the scaly leaves and watching it dangle on the branch.
Yusuke hugged Goro from behind, dipping his nose in the hollow of his clavicle.
“You’re gonna be the end of me,” Goro muttered, raising a hand to pet the blue strands tickling at his neck. “But thank you. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Goro,” Yusuke whispered. “I love you.”
A slow, languid kiss joined them for a moment. Yusuke’s lips were soft and narrow, two sweetest petals, opening up and yielding without a fight. Goro always marvelled at how different kissing Yusuke was from kissing Ren. He was addicted to both of them by now.
“I— I love you too,” Goro breathed into his mouth. Yusuke took it gratefully, and his eyelids fluttered. “What are we putting on top?”
“A star?” Yusuke whispered.
“What about an origami fox?”
Yusuke’s eyes widened for a second and Goro could practically see a flash of an idea reflected in his irises, the very image as it entered his brain in a godspark of inspiration. But then Yusuke kissed him again, with pure, childlike excitement, and nothing else seemed important at all.