Work Text:
Another year had come and went, and December was drawing to a close. Thoma sighed as he switched off the lights at Komore Teahouse, the doors shutting quietly behind him. He nodded once to the guards by the door as he locked up, shooting them one last friendly smile as he made his way back to the Kamisato estate.
As Christmas approached, Thoma found himself working more and more odd jobs around town, saving his mora for something special. Of course, the Kamisatos paid him far more than enough as it was, especially with them also providing a place for him to sleep, food for him to eat, and clothes for him to wear.
They paid him enough for Christmas presents, sure, but he really wanted to express his thanks to the Kamisato siblings, for all they’d done for him. And sure, he could just knit another sweater, or buy flowers, or whip up a feast like he’d done in years past, but this year he wanted to outdo himself. This year, he wanted to feel like he was repaying the siblings for all they’d done for him– even if it was just a fragment of his gratitude he could display.
The only problem was, he found himself increasingly stumped on what he could do. Yeah, he was already stepping up his cleaning duties, preparing a proper feast fit for an archon, and taking extra care to make sure the siblings didn’t find out about his nighttime shenanigans, but all the pressure to find something truly extraordinary had him stumped.
The streets were oddly quiet as he walked. A gentle snow fell, flakes only visible in the streetlights melting into the ground at the first touch. There was not a person in sight, and even the street-facing vendors were closed. Hmm. Maybe it’s later than I thought. I should hurry home.
As he climbed the hill towards the Kamisato clan estate, the world became a lot brighter and once more filled with chatter. Thoma smiled, warm, making his way up the final few steps– only to find there were no guards at the door. In fact, when he poked his head into the courtyard, no-one was in their positions. Everyone was milling about like a headless chicken.
He made his way over to the nearest staff member– a maid named Koharu– to ask what was going on, but she whirled and made her way to him before he could even get a word out.
“Oh, thank the gods you’re alright. Are you hurt? Are you injured?” She turned back around, Thoma still having trouble getting a word in edgewise, and shouted to the courtyard.
“Everyone, he’s alright, we found him!” There were various noises of relief from the people around the courtyard, ranging from a mere sigh to a girl that collapsed back into a chair at the news and began sobbing. Koharu turned back to him.
“Where have you been!? The Lord and Lady have been worried sick– The Lord Commissioner even dispatched the Shuumatsuban to look for you!” Thoma simply stood, still in the middle of processing the chaos, trying to formulate a response.
“We mustn't dally any longer, the Young Lord is practically tearing his hair out with worry.” She grabbed him gently by the wrist as they marched inside, calling as she went,
“Everyone back to your stations, people! I’m taking Thoma to the Lord and Lady. Yes, you too, Hirotatsu.”
They weaved their way through the halls of the estate, and everywhere they went people cried out in relief at the sight of Thoma. He wondered why the Commissioner had raised such a big fit about him– he stayed out late all the time.
Finally, they reached the grand double doors behind which Ayato’s office lay. Koharu rapped once, twice– but with her hand still midway to the third knock, the door swung open, and she nearly fell flat on her face. Thoma reached out quickly to catch her, muscles aching from hours of scrubbing tables.
Once she was steady on her feet again, Thoma looked up– straight into the shell-shocked face of the Lord Commissioner.
“Oh, My Lord, I–” he began a quick bow, but was crushed into a– a hug? –before he could get even the slightest bit down.
“Thoma, Thoma, Thoma,” Ayato murmured softly, a stark contrast to the crushing hug he was currently giving. Koharu cleared her throat awkwardly. Ayato sprang back, straightening his suit a little.
“Koharu, you are dismissed. Make sure nobody disturbs us. I will send summons later for further details about the situation.” She gave a brief nod and scurried off down the hallway, shooing other staff members away as she went.
Ayato, still clutching Thoma by the wrist so tightly he thought it might break, led him inside, shutting the doors behind him. The room was empty, except for Lady Ayaka, who’s face lit up as she sucked in a breath. She, too, sprang up, rushing over to wrap Thoma in a hug only a little less forceful than her brother’s.
“Thoma,” she gasped, burying her head in his chest.
“I was– we were so scared! You can’t run off like that, we thought something had happened to you, especially after the Shogunate kidnapped you and– and with the Traveler in Sumeru, you would’ve been all alone!” Thoma chuckled guiltily as Ayaka’s words faded into quiet sobs, and he pulled his wrist free lightly from Ayato to hold her tight to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
“Hey, milady, I’m alright, see? Just getting a little extra work done at Komore, no big deal. It was extra empty today, so I just took the opportunity to get everything spick and span. I’m alright.” Ayato, exhausted, slumped into a chair, rubbing his temples. Thoma and Ayaka made their way to the lounge chair, where Ayaka sat with her side pressed flush against his, getting out the last of her tears whilst Thoma kept one comforting hand on her back.
“So, My Lord, why all the worry? I stay out late plenty. Has something happened?” Ayato sighed, long and deep, eyes still in his lap.
“No, nothing has happened, I just– I didn’t think you would stay out so late tonight. I mean, we aren’t going to force you to spend it here, if you have other places you want to be, but…” Thoma’s brow furrowed, confused.
“What? Spend what here? Is something important happening tonight?” Ayato chuckled a little, finally looking up.
“Thoma, it’s Christmas Eve.”
“What?” Thoma asked softly. He was supposed to make dinner. He was supposed to have the best gift ever seen.
“But I– I thought Christmas was next week. I thought I’d have more time… I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize,” Ayaka mumbled, looking up at him through her tear-stained face, “We’re just glad that you’re home safe.”
“But I mean– I was gonna make dinner. I don’t have a gift.” Ayaka yawned.
“We don’t need any gifts, Thoma. You’re like a gift just being you.” Thoma smiled warmly down at her, gently helping her stand.
“You seem tired, milady. It’s late, you should probably get some rest.” Indeed, Ayaka’s eyes were drooping, and she nodded with a sudden exhaustion Thoma realized she’d been barely hiding this whole time. He flagged down a passing maid to take her to her quarters, and once they were out of sight, he shut the door again.
He collapsed into the seat next to Ayato this time, tired himself. His Lord reached out, one hand hovering slightly over Thoma’s bicep. He started to pull away. Thoma reached out, taking His Lord’s hand in his own, and bringing it back down to the chair’s armrest. Ayato tensed, and Thoma was reminded quite suddenly of the boldness of his actions. He coughed uncomfortably.
They were silent for a long time, the only movement in the room being his thumb unconsciously rubbing over Ayato’s knuckles whilst the other clung as tightly as if Thoma’s calloused fingers were the only thing keeping him from drowning. Thoma yawned. Ayato finally turned to face him.
“You seem exhausted,” they said in unison. Thoma smiled. Ayato chuckled.
“I’ve made sure your workload has been lighter lately, Thoma. You should have had plenty of time to rest– and if that was not the case, you should’ve come to me.” Ayato frowned.
“Oh, no, My Lord, I’ve had plenty of time. I just…”
“You just…?”
“I just wanted to save a little extra mora, you know? I mean, I wanted to get you and Ayaka something really special this year– and besides, it feels a little weird just giving your own money back to you in the form of a gift.” Thoma rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, not willing to drop Ayato’s. Ayato’s face softened.
“Thoma. You didn’t– you don’t– you don’t have to do that. Gods, I wish you wouldn’t.” His free hand came up, soft fingers falling across Thoma’s cheek as his thumb caressed the bags under his eyes. He was so gentle.
“But I want to try and repay you. I mean, obviously, there is nothing that could ever really repay the years of kindness and generosity you and your family have shown to me, but I have to try. I want to try.” Thoma hadn’t even noticed that he had stood, but Ayato had never let go of his hand, so now he was standing too.
“Thoma, indulge me.”
“Always. Anything.”
“I was… scared, tonight, in a way I haven’t been in a while. In a way I haven’t been since your kidnapping. And before that, I hadn’t been scared like that since I became the Commissioner. Fear is not an emotion I allow myself to indulge in often.” He paused, the tension tactile. The look on his face made Thoma want to hold him tight and never let go.
“I get so scared around you, Thoma. Sometimes I forget that I can’t always protect you. That you aren’t protected simply by association. The Shogunate reminded me of that when they took you, and I regret every day that it was the Traveler who saved you and not myself. But even with the Shuumatsuban searching, you managed to disappear tonight. I thought–” he paused, his voice shaking with emotion, “–I thought I lost you.” Suddenly, the mighty Yashiro Commissioner seemed so small. Ayato’s shoulders started to shake, and he buried his head in Thoma’s shoulder.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay! I’m okay, I’m alright. I’m okay, and I’m right here.” He hugged Ayato, arms wrapped tight around him.
“I– I don’t even know why I’m so upset. Well, I know, but it’s not– it’s not–”
“Hey,” Thoma hummed, “You can tell me anything. You can let it all out. You’ve done so well.” And the Commissioner crumpled.
He guided Ayato gently over to the loveseat he’d sat on with Ayaka earlier, and lay the other down. Ayato, still clinging to his jacket, ended up pulling Thoma down next to him, until his body was curled protectively around Ayato’s. It felt wrong and yet right. It felt like this was exactly where he was meant to be, and yet it couldn’t be, because Ayato was his lord, and he was here to serve him, no matter how close they might be.
He rubbed Ayato’s shoulders while he cried. He murmured soft words, sweet words, anything he could do to help. Ayato cried for a long time, far longer than Ayaka had. It was abundantly clear that he just needed a good cry, regardless of whether or not there was an emotional trigger.
When Ayato could speak again, his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. If it wasn’t for their close proximity, Thoma didn’t know if he’d even be able to hear him.
“Thoma.” Thoma hummed encouragingly, pressing himself a little closer to hear him a little better.
“You’re awfully close.” He jolted backwards, instantly putting space between himself and His Lord. He went red to boot.
“Deepest apologies, My Lord, I am so sorry. I’ve overstepped.”
“No,” Ayato chuckled quietly, “Don’t take my surprise for distaste. I was rather comfortable.”
Slowly, sheepishly, he scooted back in, relishing a little in the skin-on-skin contact.
“Thoma,” he sighed, “If I asked you something, could I trust you to be honest with me? Even if the truth would hurt my feelings. Even if you feel obligated to give me the answer I want to hear because of my status, or because of some preconceived notion of owing me something.” He blinked at the question, but genuinely took a moment to think about it. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Ayato’s feelings, but would he lie to him to avoid that? Would he disobey a direct order to avoid that?
“I– yeah. Yeah.” Ayato pulled away a little, and Thoma sighed at the loss of contact. He looked down at His Lord’s face and–
Oh. Holy shit.
His skin was perfect, as clear and milky smooth as porcelain. His hair was soft and shiny without a tangle in sight, even after a mental breakdown. His hands were delicate and supple, but his eyes– oh, his eyes were the real show. A deep, deep orchid, both as frightening and entrancing as the ocean shores, though such a common metaphor couldn’t do them justice. Ayato had such expressive eyes. Even when he held his signature poker face, his eyes were his tell. His beautiful, beautiful tell.
But it was more than just his objective appearance. It was the way his smile nudged his dimple up ever-so-slightly. It was the way his whole face seemed to soften when he was really, truly pleased. It was how he comforted small children, how he commanded meetings of people far more important than he, how he bared his sword with all the grace of a dancer. It was how he protected Ayaka so carefully, how he sent out two search parties and a private ninja task force when Thoma showed up a little late on Christmas.
Ayato was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Holy shit. I’m in love with you.”
It was how those same eyes betrayed a fragile hope.
“What?”
The cozy atmosphere came shattering down around him. He sprung away even faster than before, not even daring to stay on the loveseat. He bowed deeply– deeper, deeper– while his own heart picked itself up off the ground, holding all of its pieces close to itself, waiting for the final blow.
“Apologies. Deepest Apologies, Lord Commissioner. I can’t– I am so, so sorry. I don’t even know what’s come over me. Just– Just forget it. Pretend I didn’t say anything. Like it never even happened.”
“Thoma. Thoma. Don’t– No, stop that foolish bowing, stop that! Look at– hey, look at me.” From Thoma’s place on the floor, he could see nothing, but didn’t bear to raise his head as small tremors across the floor betrayed Ayato’s position. When Thoma still didn’t rise, he crouched, reaching one gentle hand out to lift Thoma’s head. He scrambled back like he’d been burned.
“Hey… is loving me really this bad?” He said it as a jest, but Thoma, panicked as he was, saw the hurt in his eyes. Those gorgeous eyes, so full of pain.
“No! I mean, not that I love… not that I don’t! I just– ugh. I wish I’d never said anything.” He stood now, back against the wall, brushing off the dust from his clothes hurriedly.
“Thoma, remember when I said I had a question to ask you?” He took a step or two forward, not enough to close much distance between them, but enough to have Thoma’s heart hammering in his chest. Gods. How had he missed all the signs?
It is of the utmost importance that you answer me honestly, okay? And that if you need time to think about it, you take time.” Thoma nodded, mutely. Ayato stepped closer.
“Would you be my partner? And I mean romantically. In case there was any confusion.” Ayato was uncharacteristically fidgety. That was all Thoma needed to see to know he wasn’t joking.
“You– does that mean you–”
“That I love you too? Yes.”
Thoma took a step forward, then another. Ayato took a step forward too, and then they were within touching distance.
“If I agree,” said Thoma, quiet, breathy, “Then can I kiss you?”
Ayato shone as he said, “Well I don’t see why not.” So Thoma nodded, nodded frantically because he couldn’t get any more words out, and then Ayato closed the gap between them.
It was a gentle kiss, delicate, as fragile as a glass bird leaving the nest for the first time. Ayato’s lips were so soft against his, so soft that he wondered how he hadn’t fantasized about this before. Something told him his fantasies wouldn’t have come close anyway.
They broke apart, Thoma shy (and still reeling from his series of discoveries) and Ayato practically glowing, happiness seeping from every pore. He lifted Thoma’s chin with his finger, bringing his gaze back up to meet him.
Ayato’s eyes flickered up, and then back down.
“Oh, would you look at that. Mistletoe.”