Work Text:
Tengen stared at the glittery reindeer mug in his hands and knew, with absolute certainty, that he was screwed.
I mean, come on! A reindeer mug? Really? What a cliché of a present! This wasn’t at all a gift up to his standards—or anyone’s, really. It was ugly and weirdly shaped, something he would never be caught dead drinking from.
But it wasn’t for him, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to buy it. It was utterly atrocious, and while he knew Rengoku would’ve been thrilled even if Tengen brought him a napkin, the guy worked so hard he deserved something good.
With a sigh that had the other customers looking his way, Tengen put back the ugly mug and continued his search for the perfect present.
As he walked down the depressing aisles—I mean really, where the hell is the Christmas cheer? Nobody had any flashiness anymore—Tengen began thinking about his colleague.
Rengoku was a new addition to their company, a fresh-out-of-college youth with too much ambition to be stuck working an office job. But Tengen had to give it to him: the guy had a special kind of charm that made him practically rocket up the hierarchy ladder and land himself a pretty good position in just a few months. Totally flashy, if Tengen had to say so himself.
Passing by the ugly sweater section, his ears picked up on a sound he’d heard way too much these past few weeks.
“TASTY!”
Speak of the fucking devil…
Tengen tried to abort—he really did. But the guy seemed to have the eyes of a hawk and zeroed in on him quickly.
“Uzui-san! What a pleasure it is to meet you here!” The blond man spoke at a volume so loud Tengen swore he heard multiple people shush him.
“Heyyyy, buddy…” Tengen started awkwardly, slowly backing away from where he’d tried to crouch his 6’6” frame behind a gumball machine.
He tried shoving his hands in his pockets, only to realize he was wearing sweats. So he quickly crossed his arms and pretended like that never happened.
“What brings you here, Uzui-san?” Rengoku asked, sipping from the coffee he seemed to be sampling—undoubtedly the source for that enthusiastic outburst.
Tengen paused for a moment, planning how he should go about this. Obviously he couldn’t tell him the real reason; he wasn’t a dumbass. But he also couldn’t really lie to him. Rengoku had this unsettling way of looking at you that made honesty feel mandatory. Tengen knew this from past experience, when he’d tried to lie directly to Rengoku’s face only to have the lie get stuck halfway up his throat.
“Well…” He cleared his throat. “I’m looking for a present.”
“A present? How wonderful! Who’s it for?” The blond man pried, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was the one Tengen was shopping for.
“Oh, you know, somebody.” He waved a hand vaguely. “ Anyways, I’m gonna need your help, man! Been stuck in this stupid store for the past hour. Keep racking my brain for ideas, but none of them really capture their…” Tengen paused and looked the guy up and down— the preputal enthusiasm the loudness, that inexplicable charisma…He knew he was probably being obvious, but he really was trying to look for the right word here. “essence.”
Rengoku hummed, index finger and thumb rubbing slowly over his chin. Tengen stood there wondering what he’d gotten himself into. Rengoku was probably going to start asking questions about the person, and Tengen couldn’t answer them or else he’d get caught right away.
His suspicions were proven true when Rengoku opened his mouth to say, “How old is this person?”
Tengen heaved a heavy sigh.
———
Tengen had somehow managed to completely change the topic, and for the forty minutes he and Rengoku spent at the store, Tengen learned this man’s entire biography.
He certainly was a character. At first, Tengen thought the guy was all kinds of weird. They didn’t have many interactions since they worked in different departments, but when they did, it was mostly Tengen passing by the lunchroom and hearing enthusiastic exclamations of “TASTY!”
But walking around with this guy somehow proved him both right and wrong at the same time. Rengoku was odd, sure, but it was almost endearing in a way—the kind of odd that pulled you in rather than pushed you away. He was also pretty funny. Tengen hadn’t laughed this much since he’d last gotten drunk, which—well, to be fair—wasn’t all that long ago, but his point still stood.
Their conversation had been nice, that is, until Rengoku remembered what Tengen had asked of him and determined they weren’t leaving the store until Tengen found an appropriate present for his recipient. And boy, was he stubborn.
Now Tengen was trudging through the parking lot with multiple bags full of absolute bullshit and still no “appropriate” present. Rengoku had been relentlessly helpful—suggesting gifts for this “mysterious person” while Tengen dodged every question like a bullet.
The worst part? He’d panic-bought half the store just to end the conversation. Now he was the proud owner of a flamingo pool float (in December), a cookbook he’d never use, and a scented candle that smelled aggressively of “Winter Pine Explosion.”
Still no gift for Rengoku.
He threw the bags in his trunk and pulled out his phone. Maybe online shopping would be less mortifying.
_____
“Jesus Christ, would you relax? The guy would lose his mind over a napkin.” Sanemi didn’t even look up from his phone. “You’ve been whining about this for three days straight.”
Tengen groaned. “That’s what I thought too, but come on, Sanemi, you know I’m not the kind of guy to half-ass presents.” That was something Tengen was known for. If he put effort into anything, he made sure it was amazing. “Besides, would it kill you to help me here?” The taller man huffed.
“Yes, it really would. I skipped secret Santa for a reason. I’m not wasting money on people I barely tolerate.” Sanemi stood up, pocketed his phone, and headed to the door, then paused. “Expect you, you, I definitely don't tolerate.” And continued his stride outside of the lunch room. Leaving tengen all by himself.
What an ass.
With a sigh, Tengen opened his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time today, scrolling through random online stores and hoping to stumble across the perfect present with what was left of his dwindling hope.
The Christmas party was in two days, and he had approximately zero ideas and negative confidence.
The door opened again, tengen didn’t bother looking up as a shadow loomed over the table.
“May I join you?”
Tengen’s head snapped up at the familiar voice, his eyes catching the perfect gold of his colleague’s.
“Uh, Yeah, sure.” Tengen agreed. Might as well let the reason for his frustration join him after Sanemi’s bitchass ditched.
Rengoku said nothing as he sat down, fingers carefully opening his lunchbox. What Tengen saw had his stomach rumbling all over again even after devouring his lunch not even ten minutes ago.
“Holy shit…” slipped past his lips before he could catch it. Rengoku’s only reply was to grin brightly, looking over his lunch with a proud face.
“You made that?” Tengen asked, because if he did, he might consider hanging out with this guy more often just to steal some of his food.
“Nope!” Rengoku shook his head. “My younger brother did. He prepares them the night before and I heat them up in the morning. Looks good though, doesn’t it?” His smile grew even bigger as he turned to face Tengen.
“Yeah, it does…”
So his younger brother made it. Huh. Rengoku had talked a lot about his younger brother back at the store—how he was a sweet kid with an affinity for books and a talent for cooking. Tengen had passed it off as just something a proud older brother would say, but with the proof right in front of him? Hell, he might hire the kid to be his personal chef.
Rengoku pulled out his phone, snapping a quick picture of his lunch and took his first bite.
“TASTY!”
Tengen buried his face in his hands. Two more days. He had two more days to figure this out.
———
By the time the morning came around, Tengen was hopeless.
He didn’t even bother checking the stores all morning, and instead wondered whether he should just get a gift card and bear the embarrassment of facing Sanemi with his half-assed gift, or run away and hide in a cave forever.
The running away option seemed way more appealing.
Tengen scrolled through Facebook, looking through posts of people receiving their gifts early, doubting the universe would have mercy on him and show him the perfect present.
In fact, almost as a cruel joke, the universe led him straight to Rengoku’s account. As if to tell him, “look, you’re telling me you couldn’t get a gift for this guy? Pathatic.”
Okay, he might be exaggerating, but sometimes a man had to indulge his pitying thoughts.
Tengen clicked on the account. It was modest—nothing he wouldn’t expect from a guy like Rengoku. Motivational quotes. An alarming number of posts about his younger brother. Tengen scrolled through them with a weird mix of guilt and mild amusement.
He scrolled through post after post and soon started to notice a pattern. Every three posts or so, Rengoku would share a photo of his lunchbox—the ones his brother made for him. And he would always gush about how much he loved them, how he could eat his brother’s food every day, and was it possible to bring their home fridge with him to work?
Tengen snickered. But then—because he was amazing, and not because the universe seemed to take mercy on him—he was struck with an idea that had him leaving his house faster than he ever had before.
He’d found the perfect fucking gift.
———
The office Christmas party was… well, an office Christmas party. Nothing to expect much from. Awkward greetings, hushed conversations, and a lot of eggnog—well, for Tengen, that is.
Tengen loved parties. Parties were his domain. the one place where his natural flashiness wasn’t just accepted but celebrated. But this? This sterile office with its fluorescent lights and nervous energy? It neutered him. Reduced him to the social equivalent of Tomioka standing in a corner nursing a single drink for three hours.
He poured his fifth cup of eggnog, heard somebody say he should probably slow down, and went on to pour his sixth.
At this point, he was only waiting on a certain person to show up so they could get this stupid game of Secret Santa going. He was honestly excited—he’d bought the perfect gift and couldn’t wait to show it off and probably flip off Sanemi sometime during the process.
He heard a loud greeting, turned toward the sound, and his eyes fell on a stupidly bright smile. Rengoku arrived and apparently brought the sun with him, something about that made his stomach flip. He blamed the eggnog.
Rengoku waved from across the room, already gathering a crowd around him. Tengen couldn’t blame them—his own legs itched to walk over there too.
“Uzui-san, how are you?” Rengoku asked with that brilliant grin, and Tengen wondered when he’d started thinking about it so much.
“Hey, I’m good. How about you?”
The two fell into an easy conversation, much like the one at the store, and Tengen found himself laughing more than once.
“Alright, everyone!” Kanae’s sweet voice rang through the room over the music, holding a microphone up to her lips. “It’s time to start exchanging gifts! Everyone please gather by the tree.”
Tengen started walking. Rengoku fell into step beside him.
“I’m hoping you found a gift?” Rengoku said, an easygoing smile on his face. Tengen couldn’t help but mirror it.
“Yeah. A perfect one.”
…
The gift exchange went about as boring as Tengen expected. People were way too formal with each other, and nobody seemed to get what they wanted.
Tengen didn’t either—and funnily enough, his Secret Santa had gifted him that same horrible mug he’d been planning to give Rengoku.
The universe had a sick sense of humor.
“Uzui-san?” Rengoku was holding his gift now, looking between the box and Tengen with surprised delight. “Wait—you were shopping for me?”
“Surprise,” Tengen deadpanned.
Rengoku laughed—loud and unbothered and completely genuine—before carefully unwrapping the box. His fingers were surprisingly gentle for someone who did everything else at maximum volume. Tengen watched those hands peel back the paper, watched Rengoku’s expression shift from curious to confused to—
There.
That look.
Tengen would remember that look for the rest of his life.