Work Text:
1
The third baking tray of cookies was almost ready. Yusaku watched the tree, snowman, and Santa Claus-shaped doughs harden beyond the glass of the oven, then let out a disconsolate sigh.
He wasn't really in the mood to bake cookies, especially if they were all he could offer his friends as Christmas presents after months and months of saving every cent had vanished into cosmic nothingness in a matter of days.
(It was as if in his body resided a special magnet capable of attracting all possible and imaginable attentions from bad luck).
He was very disheartened and every bit of positivity and good intentions had turned into a pile of snow fallen after the rain: unable to take root in the ground and, consequently, resigned to the thought of dissolving and disappearing in a few moments, leaving no trace of its fleeting passage.
Yusaku couldn't live like that anymore: he would have loved to enjoy his days as a boy of his age used to do and think of the future as something wonderful and all to be discovered, not as an uncertain entity with dubious shades and branches.
(He only wished he could go back to smiling like he used to. He had almost forgotten how to curl his lips in the genuine and spontaneous representation of happiness and it frightened him not a little).
Moreover, he felt a constant discomfort in his hands, caused by the typical cuts that vexed his epidermis in contact with the December cold – and yet, he still hadn't bought gloves to protect him from the winter weather.
As if all of the above wasn't enough, Ryoken still hadn't let him know anything about his return to Den City after months spent studying abroad, a lapse of time that Yusaku hadn't been able to fill in any way, as Ryoken's absence was felt everywhere, in every cell of his body.
The way they had greeted each other at the airport had been full of promises and very good intentions for their future together, but over the months it had all remained unresolved, due to the distance of a few thousand kilometers and a physical contact that Yusaku never thought he would miss. The negative side of coming forward too late was that many things
(moments, kisses, caresses, intimacy)
had been just a flicker in the course of their days, a fleeting glimmer of happiness that had cooled off the moment Ryoken left for America.
The video calls were certainly not lacking during all those months of absence – sometimes they even took place at ungodly hours –, but they were a balm that soothed the melancholy only in the early days, turning into a silent game of glances and words left unsaid: they would say the same things to each other over and over again, one “I miss you” after another uttered to the point of exhaustion, a “I wish I could be there with you” that could not be realized with the ocean in the way and a fourteen-hour time difference.
(They had never said “I love you” to each other. In those conditions it would have hurt too much).
Yusaku allowed himself another sigh before going back to looking at the cookies, but a moment before he realized they were ready, the sound of the doorbell caught his attention, causing him to turn around. How strange, he wasn't expecting any guests in his small apartment that day...
2
He widened his eyes as far as he could when, after opening the door, he found himself admiring a small piece of blue sky without ripples, in stark contrast to the grayish sky that covered the entire city and seemed almost to fall on the world in a few moments, like the plaster of a battered wall that was slowly peeling away.
Right there on his doorstep, wrapped in a white coat, with a smile that could melt a mountain of snow and two eyes that reflected an early spring, was Ryoken.
Ryoken with a cute Christmas-themed bag in his hand, the happiness of being back seeping out of every inch of his uncovered face and a desire to kiss Yusaku so obvious that it was romantic and even a little funny at times.
«Hey» Ryoken greeted him, the smile that showed no sign of fading. «I missed you–»
Against all odds, Yusaku shut the door abruptly, not even giving Ryoken time to take a step forward and finish his sentence. He turned around with a quick movement, his back to the door, resting against the hardwood and a hand on his heart that had begun to beat rapidly in his ribcage.
Ryoken was there, literally a door away from him. With no warning whatsoever, Yusaku could hardly believe what his own eyes had seen only a moment before, as a thick mist began to envelop his brain, causing him to slowly lose every ounce of clarity.
(«Yusaku... is everything alright?» Ryoken was asking him in the meantime, beyond the artificial border that Yusaku himself had drawn without having done so with bad intentions).
Yusaku shuddered, but not because of Ryoken's voice, but because a peculiar smell had started to tickle his nostrils and...
«Oh dear, the cookies!» he exclaimed, pulling away from the door.
«What?» Ryoken asked, a little confused.
Yusaku was already striding down the hallway with great stride when he replied: «Come on in!»
(And Ryoken didn't let him say it twice).
3
When Ryoken entered the kitchen, Yusaku had already baked cookies and was looking at them with a dejected expression. Yet another dejected sigh escaped his lips as he placed the steaming baking tray on the kitchen counter – meanwhile, Ryoken had placed the pretty bag on a chair and slipped off his coat, gloves and scarf.
«I take it you're not crazy about surprises» he said, approaching him and looking at him with tenderness – and even a hint of amusement.
Yusaku roused himself from his own nefarious thoughts and threw himself, literally, into Ryoken's arms. He held him tightly and sank his face against Ryoken's chest, enjoying his scent and letting his hands gently caress his back.
«I'm sorry» he whispered, his cheeks veiledly darkened by the embarrassment he'd begun to feel after realizing what had happened. «These last few days have been a total mess... my mind is so full and... wait, no one knows you're back yet?»
He raised his head and met those blue eyes he loved so much.
Ryoken smiled. «I just popped home to get rid of my bags and get some rest, but since I live alone... let's just say that yes, except for you no one knows yet».
Upon hearing those words, Yusaku felt a strong warmth invade his chest. To Ryoken, he had been a priority. His priority.
(And without him realizing it, he had let Ryoken pinch a string in his heart).
He rose up on tiptoe, and within moments their lips joined in a kiss that had been coveted for months. It was a soft, gentle touch that grew bolder and more impatient, their tongues entwined as they had been tasting each other for months, when the world had spun too fast and America was all too imminent.
Yusaku suddenly felt light, as if tons of nagging and worry and negative thoughts had been blown away by a gentle gust of wind. He clung a little tighter to Ryoken, wishing that contact would never end, though at some point the need to take in oxygen became pressing and, reluctantly, their lips had to part.
«I've missed you. So much» Ryoken whispered, resting a hand on his flushed cheek.
«You too. Welcome back» Yusaku replied, squinting his eyes and allowing himself to be rocked by that loving contact.
(And Ryoken pinched the second string of his heart).
4
«Don't you dare touch or, even worse, taste those cookies».
«Why?»
«I baked them too late».
«Yusaku, they're just a little more golden than the others, what's the big deal?»
«Don't. Touch. Those. Cookies».
«Too late».
«Ryoken!»
«What? I can assure you that they taste good».
Yusaku rolled his eyes. Of all the decent cookies he could taste, Ryoken had chosen the very last ones baked, the ones Yusaku would rather keep for himself and not give to anyone.
He had even tried to put on a deeper voice in an attempt to assert himself, but as a result he had only gotten a mischievous look from Ryoken, who had called his “imperious” voice very exciting.
It was good, though. Everything he was experiencing during those small moments of everyday life was just beautiful and made him feel good. In a matter of minutes, the fact that Ryoken had come back from America and had surprised him by showing up at his house out of the blue had become absolute normality, as if Ryoken had never actually left, as if he had always been there in Den City every day and every moment.
Seeing him there, in his own home, sitting at the counter of that small kitchen and genuinely happy to eat the cookies he had baked was as good as Yusaku could have wished for on that gloomy day. And he wished he could have enjoyed those positive vibes all the way, but he found it really difficult.
«These are really good» Ryoken said, intent on biting into the third cookie. «Please take this baking tray off the counter, because I'm in serious danger of eating them all».
«They'll never be enough anyway...»
Ryoken pointed his gaze at his figure. «What do you mean?»
Yusaku's green eyes widened. He tried to cling with all his might to the happiness he had felt since Ryoken had shown up at his house, but it was fading little by little, completely eclipsed by a sense of inadequacy that pressed mockingly against his chest.
«They're all I can give you for Christmas this year... to you and everyone else» he admitted, looking away. The embarrassment he began to feel after speaking made him sink into absolute despair; confessing that worry hadn't freed him of a burden nor made him feel better, on the contrary, it was having the opposite effect, the most brutal and annihilating one.
He set his eyes on the pretty bag Ryoken had brought with him and sank a few more feet into the abyss of despair.
(It was for him, he could feel it right down to his bones. And he felt so stupid reciprocating with simple chocolate-vanilla cookies in equally stupid shapes. Childish and stupid).
«Do you want to talk about it?» Ryoken asked, who had meanwhile stood up to approach him again. He gently placed his hands on his hips, barely squeezing them, and Yusaku was grateful for that contact because, at that moment, it was all that allowed him to remain standing.
He sighed again before he began to narrate: «I had been saving for months on end in anticipation of the holiday season» he said, his gaze now pointed downward. «I had managed to reach a satisfactory amount and was looking forward to buying something for you and everyone else. Then the boiler broke down. Twice, because the first time I don't know what the heck went wrong, the technician thought he had fixed it but no, after a few hours it had started not working again. And then... then a few days ago it hailed. Hail was so violent, I was seriously afraid that it would break all the windows in the apartment... fortunately it didn't and I thought I'd escaped, but being the dumbass that I am I didn't check the car and... and... I thought I'd put it in the garage, when it was just sitting out in the parking lot. Under the hail. Result? Broken windows and several other dents. And then the engine... I'm no expert, but Yusei found some issues and is trying to fix it. Well, he gave me a best friend discount, but... I mean, it's still a big mess».
The tingling in his hands returned, more intrusive than ever. Not only that, but his eyes began to tingle and were veiled by tears that he managed to hold back, albeit with some difficulty.
With his eyes getting more and more cloudy, he wondered what on earth Ryoken found attractive or even interesting about him. He was clumsy, lost in a glass of water, introverted, often tended to isolate himself and literally destroyed everything beautiful that came his way.
(My name is Yusaku because “Walking Disaster” was too long).
«Hey». Ryoken loosened his grip on his hips so he could rest his hands on his face. They were as warm as a supernova's trail. «It happens to everyone to experience a series of unfortunate events. And it's certainly not your fault, they are things that can happen and, even if they are not nice and do not give pleasure, they are still temporary: time a few more days and they will be just an unpleasant memory. Now the boiler is working and in a short time the machine will be as good as new».
(Slowly, gracefully, Ryoken plucked the third string as well).
Yusaku bit his lower lip, aware that Ryoken was right, but unable to leave all that negativity behind. «I know, but the gifts–»
«That's what I love about you: that despite everything you always think of others» Ryoken smiled at him as he brought his face closer to his. «And you're doing that right now, too. Do you know how many people would have given up in your place, throwing it all away? You, on the other hand, are doing your best to give something to others anyway. And you're baking the cookies yourself, not going to some bakery or store to buy them ready-made. You're giving your time to the people you care about... and for that alone I consider it a beautiful gift. And I want at least fifty of those cookies, thank you».
Some times, that's all Yusaku needed: for someone to touch him and speak to him gently. And the way Ryoken was touching his heart
(and his every string)
was unspeakable.
«Now will you give me a big smile?»
And Yusaku finally remembered how he had to curve his lips into the genuine representation of happiness.
5
«Aren't you going to tell me anything?»
Yusaku asked him that question as he poured hot chocolate into a colorful cup.
«What would you like to know?» Ryoken asked in turn, then thanking him for the steaming cup.
«About America, about college, about how you found yourself on the other side of the world...»
Ryoken shrugged. «There's little to tell, really. Interesting all you want, but you were missing».
Yusaku blushed, looking away. The bag with his gift inside suddenly became an interesting attraction, and Ryoken noticed.
«Aren't you going to open it?» he asked in fact, genuinely tenderhearted
(and very, very amused)
by Yusaku's expression.
«I'm really curious, but at the same time I'd like to wait until Christmas Day, even though it's still three days away...»
«What if I told you it was something essential, would that give you the right push to open it?»
«Essential?»
Yusaku turned around, making eye contact with Ryoken. The latter took his hands, caressing them gently, dwelling on the struggling red cuts scattered across his knuckles.
«Yes, because I have a feeling you didn't buy them this year either» he said, intent on observing those little reddish marks that were so annoying.
«And tell me, why do I get the feeling that they're touch screens too?» Yusaku joked, and his was really meant to be a joke, given and considering the passion they had in common for computer science, computers and smartphones – not coincidentally, Ryoken was studying Computer Engineering and Yusaku had found a job right in an electronics store. As for smartphones, they were both well aware of how difficult and annoying it was to use them outdoors during the winter, especially if you wore normal gloves that prevented your fingers from coming into contact with liquid crystals. Without gloves, however, you found yourself tapping the screen with uncertain, trembling fingers.
Ryoken chilled on the spot, watching him with a slightly arched frown. «You really don't like surprises, do you?» he asked sarcastically, yet unable to hide a smile.
Yusaku snorted in amusement, leaning over and brushing his lips with a gentle kiss.
«Thank you».
6
Maybe it wasn't time to say “I love you” yet.
But to kiss and then admire the snow that had begun to fall from that grayish sky
(which was finally making sense)
with a cup of hot chocolate in their hands, yes, it was definitely the best time of all.