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Atem wished there was a way he could just skip time and bypass the winter months altogether.
He didn’t care for low temperatures, the snow always seemed to come on the wrong days and most of all, he hated the way people glorified the season with silly twinkle lights and over-priced decor.
Then there was the tradition of people purchasing a perfectly healthy chopped down evergreen just to watch it die in the middle of their living room, all for the sake of gloating they had a real tree that year.
But out of the list, the thing he loathed entirely was the superficial act of gift giving.
It wasn’t like Atem was opposed to gifts themselves. He just wished the act itself still meant something. He longed for the days when people put thought and care into their gifts and didn’t just wrap them out of holiday appointed peer pressure and a hope that the giftee wouldn’t just regift and so on.
Which was why he ignored the pile of small gift bags in the corner of his office, given to him by the staff he oversaw. Not a single one had been opened, as he didn’t need to look through them to know what they were.
As the years prior, he knew they would be a mix of mugs with a printed ‘Worlds Greatest Boss’ over the front, cop-out gift cards, fancy pens that worked worse than the dollar store brand, and a bottle or two of cheap wine.
Atem’s aversion for such holiday pleasantries led him to working late that Christmas Eve, pointedly avoiding the holiday-eve party his parents forced him to attend each year.
Dinner would be a catered event, someone else’s home cooking with some hired help to serve. Cousins he only saw on the holidays would attend and act like they saw him every weekend. His sister would be the life of the party, eventually pressuring him into playing the piano just so she could steal the spotlight and sing some carols.
It was all so exhausting.
Even as the time grew late, Atem knew he couldn’t avoid the yuletide celebrations entirely. At some point his mother was sure to show up and drag him there by his ear. All he could hope for was to get in and out, head back to his apartment and enjoy some peace even if he needed to find it alone.
Grabbing his jacket from his coat rack, Atem headed out through the long emptied out office. He was one of the few that had chosen to come in for hours that day and those who joined him were already gone and most likely well wasted on spiked eggnog.
When Atem took that first step outside, he realized that he should’ve left with them. He hadn’t thought to glance at the forecast for the day, but now didn’t have to look to know the upcoming blizzard blew into the city a day ahead of schedule. He’d nearly been swept away in a fierce gust of icy wind and fat flurries.
Pulling the lapels of his coat closed, he tucked his chin in as he set out in the direction of his apartment. To hell with the family. There was no way he was going out in this disaster twice, or worse… having to get snowed in with his family.
He was about halfway home when he realized his dire mistake. It probably would've been smarter to just go back to his office and hide out there till morning, perhaps even survive off a supper of vending machine junk food but it was too late for what if’s now.
Seeking shelter from the blizzard was his only option now, though every storefront on the whited-out city street had already been closed up, nor did it seem like the buses were even running as the inches of snow on the street got higher.
He tried waving down a passing snow plow, but was unsuccessful. Just when Atem thought he might’ve been buried under a passing drift of snow, he spotted his winter oasis.
Trudging through the snow, Atem approached the dimly lit ATM vestibule, relieved to find the door easily opening and space void of others looking for shelter. Once inside, he let out a frustrated exhale. Behind him the storm continued to rage past the full wall of glass, a high pitched howl muted by the barrier.
Taking a few steps into the open foyer, no bigger than a small living room, Atem surveyed his surroundings. There was nothing to sit on but the floor, which was mostly clean aside from the puddle of dirty snow he’d tracked in. Above all, at least it was warm.
With nearly numb fingers, Atem brushed off the icy flakes that had accumulated in his hair and on his shoulders. The flurries fell to the scuffed tiled floor as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
He scowled at it, finding not a single bar of service. He walked further into the room, holding it at different angles as he searched for a spot that might work. Minutes ticked by, him mumbling curses under his breath with no such luck.
Trapped and with no way to tell loved ones he was well or call for help, Atem wondered briefly if he perhaps hadn’t survived the blizzard, and this was just his new personal hell.
Then suddenly the door opened for a second time, letting in a harsh burst of air. Some relief flooded him thinking he’d found some saving grace…
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Atem muttered under his breath, the blizzard outside hiding the complaint.
Out of all the people he’d be forced into sheltering the storm with, it just had to be one of his coworkers.
Yugi Motou had caught Atem’s eye the moment he’d joined the company in the early fall, taking charge of a department separate from his own. Still, they frequently crossed paths on bigger projects and at one point Atem sought out that baby blue gaze of his whenever the opportunity presented itself. He just couldn’t deny the man had a natural beauty, with ivory skin, rounded cheeks that dimpled when he smiled wide enough, and a soft laugh that could catch his ear even from the other side of the building.
Sadly, during their encounters Atem had learned not to seek anything more. He surmised they would most likely be incompatible, as Atem was fairly sure the man had enough holiday spirit to supply the entire city. More than once Atem had caught Yugi handing out candy canes in recent weeks, and somehow managed to convince IT to change the overhead music on their floor to the Christmas station.
He’d even gone out of his way to give Atem a tin of homemade cookies a few days prior, a surprisingly more thoughtful gesture than the other office gifts he’d received.
All told, Atem was mildly suspicious the shorter man was an elf in disguise, escaped from the north pole and on a rampage to spread Christmas joy.
Right then the man was lacking some of his usual seasonal cheer as he’d succumbed to the mercy of the storm. Yugi was clearly shivering under his down feather jacket while mittened hands held up a white box.
Unaware that he wasn’t alone, Yugi continued to dust off the snow and mumble unpleasantries until he jumped and spun in Atem’s direction. Wide blue eyes instantly caught Atem’s.
“Oh,” Yugi breathed out, brightening a bit as he recognized Atem. “Hey.”
Atem crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you left for home hours ago,” he told the other man, leaning a shoulder to the far wall of the room.
Yugi balanced the box he was holding onto one hand, using his teeth to pull off his knitted glove and dropped it on top of the box. “I did,” he nodded, reaching for his phone and stepping further into the open space. “But I had an errand I wanted to run before going to my grandpa’s.” Yugi looked down to his phone, his brow pulling together.
“I wouldn’t bother. There’s no service in here.”
Just then the fluorescent lights above them flickered and a second later they shut off entirely. It left them both standing in a room lit only by one single emergency flood light off to the corner.
In the dim lighting, Atem could see Yugi’s silhouette step closer to him. Yugi murmured nervously, “Well that’s not good…”
Atem pushed off the wall to approach the windows and out past the brisk storm. Not even the Christmas lights or other shops nearby had power. Shrouded in darkness, Atem couldn't even hear the thrum of the heater anymore.
“I think the heat went off as well,” Atem threw over his shoulder.
“That’s not good either,” Yugi groaned miserably.
“It should be fine as long as we keep the door closed.” Turning around, Atem moved away from the windows, back to his corner. “But it does appear that we’re trapped for the night.”
With nothing else to do, Yugi decided to get comfortable. He walked to the other end of the wall, gently setting the box down before taking a seat next to it.
The power couldn’t have been off for more than a few minutes, but even then Atem could see his breath beginning to form a visible cloud on a deep exhale.
While he wasn’t too bothered, Yugi wasn’t fairing all that well.
“I can hear your teeth chattering from here,” Atem noted from his spot on the other side of the room.
“It’s colder than the north pole outside,” Yugi huffed, his words forming a puff of white in front of him. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”
Looking away, Atem reasoned, “I imagine you’re fairly used to that kind of weather.”
Yugi stilled, his eyes pensive for a moment. He gaped up at Atem. “... What, because I’m an elf?” His smile almost seemed to brighten up the room as he laughed through his next round of shivers. “I wouldn’t be throwing around short jokes. You're, what? Maybe two inches taller than me?”
Atem’s lips curved up on their own accord. “I suppose you’re right.”
Yugi’s giggles died down, replaced with more sounds of shivering.
Without thinking, Atem pushed away from the wall. He moved toward Yugi, along the way unbuttoning his jacket. He’d already shrugged it off his shoulders by the time he was standing in front of him.
“Here,” Atem offered, holding the jacket out between them.
Yugi looked at the garment hanging between them with a frown. “But then you’ll be cold.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” When Yugi still made no move to take it, Atem caught his patience wearing thin. “Just take the jacket before I smother you with it.”
Despite the threat, a smile tugged at the corner of Yugi’s mouth. He countered, “On one condition.”
“You really don’t value your life, do you?” It only made Yugi grin wider. Resigned to fate, Atem let his head fall forward, asking with a sigh, “What condition?”
“Sit here next to me.”
A deep furrow set into Atem’s brow. “Why?”
The cold flush on Yugi’s cheeks warmed several hues. “So we can share,” he said, nodding to the jacket. “I don’t care how much you deny it, I know you're cold, too.”
Atem wanted to argue, god did he ever, but there was a definite chill creeping into his skin from the moment he shed his jacket. Goosebumps were already prickling his ochre skin under the thin fabric of his sweater.
“Fine,” he groused, sitting down on the chilled tile beside Yugi.
Once on the ground, Yugi finally took the jacket, scooting closer as he spread it out over their laps.
Atem tensed as their arms brushed, but Yugi seemed completely unbothered by their proximity as he leaned back against the wall again. He hoped that maybe they could sit in silence, though he really should’ve known better.
“So what does your family do for the holidays?”
Atem glanced to the side, finding Yugi’s gaze already on him. From this close, Atem could clearly see the finer slopes of Yugi’s face even in the low lighting and the way it darkened the shade of his eyes.
He turned his eyes down, focusing instead on the fabric of his jacket. “Nothing all that special,” Atem told him, shifting on the hard floor. “My parents host a family dinner, we exchange gifts.” Which was a mild way of putting it.
“You look like it's the worst thing in the world.”
Atem shrugged stiffly. “I’m not much of a fan of the holidays.”
“You?” Yugi laughed lightly. “ The Mr. Grinch?”
Atem had to hide his smile behind a purse of his lips. “If you knew then why did you ask?”
Now it was Yugi’s turn to shrug. “I wanted to know why.”
Turning back toward Yugi, Atem asked, “What makes you assume there’s a reason?”
“There’s always a reason, Atem,” Yugi explained, never losing his mirthful smile. “No one is just born hating Christmas.”
That was true, as he could remember a time when twinkling lights and pristinely wrapped gifts were something he looked forward to as a child. As the years went by, Atem just came to realize that it was just a show and all that magic was made up.
“I just don’t think people celebrate the holidays the way they were intended.” He rubbed his hands together under the blanket, curling a bit further into himself. “It’s all about gifts nowadays. Who can give the most, get the most, what’s the most expensive thing they can find, and not to mention the social obligations surrounding it.”
There was a long stretch of silence.
“You’re not wrong,” Yugi eventually said, his voice taking on a sadder tone than before. “That’s one of the reason’s my grandpa and I don’t give gifts.”
“No?” Atem asked, the admission surprising him.
Yugi’s covered finger’s twisted at the button on the jacket. “Well, it’s mostly because we didn’t have much when I was growing up so I never expected anything big.” Atem watched as Yugi’s eyes took on a nostalgic glow, no doubt bringing memories to the forefront of his mind. “We’d usually just bake cookies and make hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. The next day we’d eat them for breakfast and play some old board games all afternoon.” He turned back to Atem with a true smile. “It was fun and I never felt like I was missing out.”
Atem hadn’t realized, but by the end of Yugi’s admission the tension in his shoulders had relaxed. Everything Yugi had recounted sounded so… perfect. No flashy trinkets or an over the top production. Just family and time spent together, making happy holiday memories.
“We still do that every year,” Yugi continued quietly. “It’s always been just the two of us but we always have a good time. This year I was trying to do something special for him,” Yugi told him, his eyes turning to the box on the other side of him. He frowned. “Though, now I guess I kinda ruined the tradition.”
“What’s that?” Atem asked, gesturing to the box.
“You know that bakery down the road?” Yugi reached for the box and set it on his lap. “He’s been talking about their pastries for months. I wanted to surprise him with some tonight but the line was so long…” Yugi peeked the box open an inch, frowning into it. “I got some but now he’s gonna be stuck alone tonight and worrying about me.”
Yugi’s disappointment leached into Atem, his heart aching at the regret darkening Yugi’s delicate features.
Unable to stand the sight of it, Atem reached out to Yugi, resting his hand over the other’s exposed wrist. He ran his thumb along the smooth skin, finding it delightfully warm. “I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the thought. And you can always spend tomorrow baking instead.”
“True,” Yugi nodded, his smile returning, though now a bit shy. He looked back to the box, and after a pause opened it all the way. The smell of baked dough and sweet sugar instantly wafted to Atem’s nose. “Here. Try one.”
Pulling his hand back, Atem shook his head. “Those are for your grandfather.”
“I think he’d rather we not starve tonight.” Yugi pushed the box closer to Atem’s lap. “It’s fine. There’s a bunch and we can still save him one or two.”
Something told Atem that Yugi wasn’t likely to back down. Carefully, he reached into it to blindly take one. In the low lighting, it looked like a flakey turnover with sugar crystals coating the outside.
Removing his mittens again, Yugi took one for himself and then set the box back to the floor next to him.
Together they took a test bite of their pastry and Atem couldn’t remember ever tasting something so delicious. The outside was buttery and crispy as he bit into it, while the inside was filled with the perfect sweet center that melted across his tongue.
“Wow,” Atem mumbled around his second bite. “These are good.”
Yugi hummed delightfully. “God, you’re right.” He turned to Atem’s treat, asking, “What does yours have inside?”
Atem held it out in front of him, turning it slightly to see the inside. “Jelly,” he said, “Raspberry, I think.”
“Yum! Mine has chocolate,” Yugi told him excitedly before digging back in.
Another stretch of silence settled between them, though this one was much more comfortable as they sat and enjoyed the late night pastry.
“It looks like the snow is letting up some,” Yugi noted quietly, finishing and brushing off stray crumbs. It was true, the large clumps had slowed to feather light flurries. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck in here?”
The thought of separating struck Atem unpleasantly. “I’m not sure,” Atem said after swallowing down his last bite. Even in the dark, Atem could clearly see at least a foot of snow accumulated against the window. “Probably best if we stay out until morning, at least.”
Suddenly Yugi moved beside him, inching a bit closer to his side. Turning his head, Atem found Yugi already looking up at him, their faces only inches apart.
Yugi's warm breath was so sweet on Atem’s cheeks “At least we have each other,” he said softly, before he stumbling out a quick, “I mean… so we're not alone on Christmas Eve.”
“Yes,” was all Atem could manage to say, too awestruck from Yugi’s beauty to say much else. The contrast of pink spread across the arches of his pale cheeks was mesmerizing and the delicate upward curve of his lips had him even forgetting why he’d been upset to be in Yugi’s company that night.
And somehow the cold didn’t even touch him in the center of their little bubble.
Then Yugi's eyes flicked down to Atem’s mouth, the change causing Atem’s stomach to swoop low. It flipped entirely when the other’s lips parted ever so slightly.
Yugi swallowed thickly. “You have a little…” he murmured quietly, lifting a finger to point at the corner of Atem’s mouth. “Right there.”
Slowly Atem wiped at his mouth, but never once did he move away. “Better?”
Yugi shook his head, his honeyed bangs swaying against his round cheeks. “No… here,” he offered carefully, gently bringing the tips of his fingers to the corner of Atem’s mouth.
He brushed away the crumbs, his icy touch a stark contrast to the heat now simmering in Atem’s veins.
A second sweep of his thumb at the edge of Atem’s lips seemed unnecessary, yet Atem made no move to stop him. He instead held Yugi’s searching eyes, taking note of every little speck of violet and desire hidden within the swirls of his irises.
Slowly, Yugi’s fingers traced a line back over the curve of Atem’s jaw, his touch so soft and careful.
Atem’s eyelids drifted shut by the time Yugi’s warm palm was pressed to his cheek.
Atem leaned in, either on his own or guided by Yugi’s steady hand, until the tip of his nose brushed Yugi’s. Shyly, Yugi ducked his head, and Atem instead met the heat of Yugi’s cheek, the chilled tip of his nose following the arch of Yugi’s warmed cheekbone.
He drew in a shuddering breath, having nothing to do with the cold, just before carefully pressing his lips to that cheek, the briefest contact eliciting a sharp catch of Yugi’s breath.
The sound triggered something inside Atem’s chest, pushing him to lift his hand to curl behind Yugi’s neck, tilting his head back. Immediately Atem found Yugi’s warm, chapped lips and captured them between his own. Atem pressed in deeper, needing more of that kiss that tasted of Yugi, cocoa, and buttery dough.
Yugi was just as eager to return the soft press of their mouths, his lips moving gently along Atem’s, parting and dragging over his own in the most wonderful way.
Maybe it was the surreal moment, the cold tampering with his mind, or maybe even a bit of Christmas magic, but when they parted, Atems' eyes opened to the most wondrous sight.
The room was a glow of twinkling lights and Yugi's ivory skin reflected the vibrant hues of the Christmas displays outside. They perfectly mirrored the way they might shimmer against freshly fallen snow, untouched and surreal in beauty.
Slowly Yugi opened his eyes, flooding Atem’s vision with a nearly iridescent blue, also reflecting all those glimmering lights shining just beyond the glass wall before them.
“Wow,” Yugi breathed softly, the warm puff nearly drawing Atem back in.
Only before he could, Yugi blinked, those long lashes fluttering rapidly as some of the haze within them cleared. He turned to look outside. “Some of the powers back on!” he perked up, quickly pulling his phone from his pocket. His smile fell, asking Atem, “I still don't have service. Do you?”
It took an embarrassingly long moment for Atem’s brain to process Yugi’s words, but when he did, he pulled his phone out. “No,” he said, shaking his head.
Yugi deflated a bit, putting his phone away. “Oh well.”
A faint buzz kicked on in the background. Atem assumed it was the heat, and was proven right when a nearby duct on the wall started producing warm gusts of air.
“I think the heat’s back on at least,” Atem mentioned.
Yugi shrugged beside him. “Eh,” he said, and now Atem was left to fight a fierce blush when Yugi snaked his arm under his own, looping them. Yugi found Atem’s hand wiht his own, lacing their fingers together under the cover of the jacket across their laps. “I like your heat better.”
Speechless over the swell beneath his sternum, Atem could do little more than smile down at Yugi, giving the hand in his a light squeeze.
Yugi settled his weight a little firmer to Atem’s side and let his head come to rest on Atem’s shoulder. His eyes turned back to the lights outside, admiring the sight again.
Not wanting to disturb the moment, Atem rested his cheek to the top of Yugi’s head. His hair tickled Atem’s face, and he involuntarily breathed deep the sweet scent of his shampoo. Did this man next to him really smell like… gingerbread?
Only hours ago Atem would’ve been nauseated by the scent, though now it warmed a shadowy place in his heart as he leaned in just a little further.
The following morning had Atem and Yugi waking to a cleared sidewalk and enough service bars to call their respective families.
His mother was nearly hysterical when she picked up, but calmed some when Atem assured her he was safe and unharmed by the blizzard. After apologizing profusely for upsetting her and the rest of the family on the holiday, Atem disconnected the call.
Behind him, Yugi was in a similar conversation. Atem turned his eyes to ground, trying not to eavesdrop on the one-sided exchange.
“I promise, I’m okay grandpa. I’m sorry I worried you.” Yugi held the phone to his ear with one hand, the white box under his opposite arm. “I’m gonna go home and change but then I’ll be over for cookies, promise.” He paused, peeking to Atem out of the corner of his eyes. “Love you, too. Bye.”
Storing the phone in his jacket pocket, Yugi turned to Atem with a shy curve of his lips. “So…” Yugi kicked a piece of ice with the tip of his shoe. “You still gonna go to your parents today?”
“For a bit, yes.” Atem hid his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. “My mother will have my head if I don’t show my face for at least breakfast.”
Yugi nodded, nervously biting at his lower lip. “If you didn’t have anything to do later…” He began, a little timidly. “Me and grandpa could always use an extra hand rolling out dough.”
The invitation caught Atem off guard, but there was just something so tempting about it.
While he wanted to accept, he instead said, “I couldn’t impose.”
Yugi took a quick step closer. “You wouldn’t be, I swear, and my grandpa wouldn’t mind either.” He offered Atem a smile, his cheeks dimpling with the height of it. “Consider it a thank you for not letting me freeze to death.”
Atem grinned at Yugi’s dramatics, something that just seemed to be part of his charm. “In that case, sure. It sounds fun.”
“Great! I’ll text you the address.” Yugi paused briefly, then turned a bit more serious. “Oh, but just one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“When we play games, you have to let grandpa win.” Yugi rolled his eyes in a mocked display of annoyance. He might’ve been more convincing without the fond smile on his face. “He’s such a sore loser.”
The sound of Atem’s chuckle was drowned out by a passing snow plow. “Noted.”
Turning, Yugi waved Atem off with a, “See ya later!”
Before Yugi could even take a step, Atem called after him. “Yugi… ?”
“Yeah?” Yugi asked, turning back to him bemused.
Atem bridged the distance between them in one long stride. His hand went to the back of Yugi's head, his fingers curling in soft, silky strands. With almost no pressure, Atem brought their lips together for another kiss, just as reminiscent as the one they’d shared the night prior.
Yugi’s free hand caught his jacket, holding on as Atem deepened the kiss just a little more.
After a long moment, Atem’s lips curved against Yugi’s, not pulling away as he mumbled against them, “Merry Christmas, Yugi.”
When Yugi pulled back, the amount of pure joy that reflected on Yugi’s face was radiant, somehow making him even more beautiful in the early morning light. He breathed out a warm, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Grinch.”
Slowly, they finally parted again, heading off to their own destinations but the smile Atem had on his face as he headed in the direction of his parents was ridiculous, perhaps even a permanent fixture now, and something he’d face many prodding questions about during his family breakfast.
It would all be worth it though, knowing the wonderful time he was in for with Yugi that Christmas night, helped along with his newfound appreciation for the holiday season.