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Megumi Fushiguro had decided pretty early in life that Santa Claus was nothing more than a pyramid scheme in a red hat.
“He’s not real,” Megumi said, with the dead-serious tone of a jaded forty-year-old trapped in a six-year-old’s body. “Adults buy the presents.”
He was sitting next to his guardian, Gojo Satoru, both of them facing the Christmas tree. Gojo immediately clutched his chest like he’d just been personally stabbed.
“Did you hear that, Suguru?” he asked, voice dripping with drama, fake offense, and full-on theatrics, his usual vibe. A walking headache for Megumi, if anyone cared to ask. “Capitalism has already robbed this kid of all his wonder.”
Suguru Geto was sitting on the floor, helping Tsumiki hang a crooked ornament. Satoru had invited him to spend Christmas Eve with them because he’d been pretty down the last few months or something. Megumi hadn’t really paid attention when Gojo explained it, but he liked Suguru, he was quiet, unlike Gojo. He watched Suguru smile calmly before replying:
“Maybe he’s just observant.”
“No!” Gojo leaned forward until he was nose-to-nose with Megumi.“Santa is real. I swear. You can see for yourself.” Suddenly, that look crossed his face, the one that meant he’d just come up with something dumb. The exact expression he wore right before embarrassing Megumi in public. Megumi hated that look. Gojo went on: “Wanna find out?”
Megumi narrowed his eyes, already bored.
“Not interested.”
Gojo nodded like he totally understood.
“I get it. You’re scared of being wrong.”
God, he was so annoying. Megumi glared at him.
“You’re an idiot. Santa isn’t real.”
Gojo ignored him completely.
“It’s okay to be wrong sometimes, Megumin.” Gojo knew full well the kid hated that stupid nickname. “You’re still young. You don’t know everything yet.”
Megumi clenched his fists and stood up on the couch, though it didn’t make him any more intimidating.
“That’s not-” he started, just as Suguru stood up, brushing off his pants. He lightly smacked Gojo on the back of the head on his way to the kitchen.
“Satoru, stop picking on Megumi.”
Gojo pouted, pretty childish for a grown man, but he dropped it. Tsumiki tried to change the subject by asking Megumi for help with the last few ornaments. It worked, Megumi focused on that and almost forgot the whole thing… until Gojo stood up with that stupid, persistent grin on his face. The “I’m not letting this go” grin.
“Stay up on Christmas Eve,” he said before heading out the door. “And see it with your own eyes.”
Megumi accepted the challenge without saying a word. Tsumiki giggled. Suguru… suspected something was up but decided not to get involved.
Big mistake.
Christmas Eve settled in softly, colorful lights reflecting off the windows of the Fushiguro's apartment. The kids played the charades game Gojo suggested, Megumi was reluctant at first, but mostly everyone had fun.
Shoko showed up at the door with sparkling wine, two gift cards, and a mountain of candy. The gift cards were for couples therapy. Satoru shot her a fake glare, Suguru thought it was hilarious.
After a lovingly made dinner, way too many sweets, and a truly terrible Christmas movie, the kids finally passed out. Shoko smoked and drank with the guys on the windowsill. Suguru bummed a cigarette. Gojo complained about the smoke but didn’t actually leave after threatening to.
It all felt familiar.
Almost like old times, except now Gojo was the legal guardian of two kids.
Shoko left before midnight with a genuine smile. The sorcerer couple climbed into the main bedroom bed, like always when Suguru visited. Gojo stole the blankets, as usual. Suguru sighed.
And the world went quiet.
That’s when Gojo slipped out of bed like a criminal.
Silently. Gleefully. Manically.
Ten minutes later, he was stuffed into a Santa suit he’d clearly bought from some sketchy discount store: crooked beard, oversized hat, fake belly that looked like a pool float.
“Yeah,” he whispered to himself. “Perfect.”
Right then, a bedroom door creaked open. Gojo quickly slung the giant sack over his shoulder. If Megumi came out now, showtime.
“Satoru…?” Suguru’s half-awake voice drifted down the hall.
Suguru appeared and took exactly two seconds to process the scene before doubling over laughing.
“What the fuck…?”
“Shhh-” Gojo pulled his boyfriend into a big, red, padded hug.
Once he was sure no one else had heard, he turned to look at him. Wrapped in the hug, freshly awake with messy hair, Suguru looked like every wet dream Gojo had ever had. But no.
Not tonight. He had a mission.
“It’s for Megumi,” he whispered, tucking a stray dark strand behind Suguru’s ear. “Don’t you like it?”
Suguru gave him that soft look he saved just for him.
“Should I? I don’t think he's gonna buy it,” he said, amused. “You’re built like a lamppost. Santa’s supposed to be big.”
Gojo got instantly offended.
“I am big. I’m taller than you.”
“By two inches.”
Gojo leaned in.
“I’m stronger than you.”
Suguru tilted his head, evaluating him with those stupidly pretty eyes.
“Debatable.”
Gojo brushed his mouth against Suguru’s cheek.
“I’m bigger than you,” he murmured, voice low and velvet. He definitely wasn’t talking about height.
Suguru couldn’t help laughing. He turned and kissed him, slow, conspiratorial, right under the fake beard. When they pulled apart, Gojo chased his lips.
“Kiss me again,” he whined when Suguru turned away. “Fine, you win. I’m scrawny. I’m tiny. Kiss me.”
Suguru swallowed another laugh.
“You’re ridiculous, is what you are.”
“And adorable.”
“And absurd.”
“Especially absurd.”
They kissed for two, maybe three minutes. Even let their tongues wander. When they finally broke apart, both were flushed and breathing heavy. Suguru put some space between them because:
“We’re in the living room.”
“We could go to the bedroom…”
“I’m not fucking you while you’re dressed like that.”
“You could take it off me-”
“Satoru.”
Gojo surrendered, pouted, stretched.
“All this Santa work made me hungry,” he grumbled. “I deserve dessert.”
“It’s Christmas Eve. Nothing’s open,” Suguru started.
Gojo winked.
“Teleportation, love.”
And vanished, sticking his tongue out.
Suguru sighed, shook his head, and turned to turn off the tree lights.
And then...
“WHAT THE HELL!?” Megumi burst from his hiding spot, tiny and furious. “YOU KISSED HIM!”
Suguru froze.
Shit. He hadn’t sensed the kid’s presence. He should’ve felt his cursed energy at some point. He hadn’t. He’d been too lost in the kisses.
“Megumi,” he said, deadly serious. “I’m so sorry. Did you… hear anything?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Megumi snapped, swallowing hard, “but… you kissed him.”
Suguru approached carefully. Damn it. Satoru probably hadn’t told him they were together. Suguru didn’t want to be the one to explain this. They were still getting to know each other, for God’s sake. What a mess.
“Megumi, listen,” he said calmly. “There’s an explanation for all this.”
“You kissed Santa!”
Suguru went stiff. He’d done what now?
“I kissed Santa,” he repeated dumbly. Not quite a question, not quite a statement.
Megumi pointed an accusing finger, still bleary-eyed from sleep.
“I saw you!”
Suguru had to force himself not to smile. His lips twitched, but he kept his face neutral.
“Megumi,” he said slowly. “You shouldn’t be up this late. Sometimes dreams get mixed up with reality.”
Megumi puffed out his cheeks.
“I’m not crazy. You two were together. Hugging.”
Suguru nodded and gently guided him back toward his room with a hand on his shoulder.
“I understand. What else happened?”
Megumi walked beside him but shot him a suspicious look.
“You talked. You kissed. Santa disappeared right after.”
God, Suguru wanted to laugh so bad. He swallowed it all.
“Megumi,” he said when they reached the door. He put both hands on the boy’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “I believe you.”
Megumi didn’t say anything, but he was red as a beet when he went back inside.
The next morning, the living room was a battlefield of wrapping paper, laughter, and Tsumiki showing off her presents.
Gojo, sprawled out like a satisfied cat, eyed Megumi.
“So?” he sang. “Did you see him? Santa?”
Megumi nodded, stone-faced.
Gojo lit up like the Christmas tree. Ironically.
“See? I told you-”
“But it wasn’t what I expected.”
Tsumiki looked up.
“Oh?”
Megumi stared at all three of them with an unreadable expression.
“Santa’s a homewrecker,” he declared finally, with near-deadly seriousness.
Nobody dared speak for a full minute. Then...
Then Gojo burst out laughing. Suguru followed, wiping tears from his eyes.
“Holy shit, Megumi,” Gojo nearly fell off the couch. “We need to get your eyes checked.”
Megumi scowled, ignored him, and turned to his sister.
“They think I’m crazy.”
Tsumiki smiled.
“I believe you, Megumi.”
And the tree kept twinkling, like it knew the secret too.