Work Text:
“Do you celebrate Christmas, Nice?”
“I have… but,” a deep long pause, “I don’t really recall the past couple of years.”
More like he doesn’t want to recall.
Ever since he’s been in the hero gig, Nice has never taken a day off to celebrate this time of the year. These months were usually the busiest, back to back campaigns to promote his status, his branding as the perfect hero. Then blocked for his end of year annual review performance. The sessions he dreads the most with his former team and boss. Hours on end of harsh one on one criticism. It all seems like a blur every time but they never fail to crush his soul. This time of the year has always left a traumatising mark on his mental wellbeing as a hero.
But, now that he is under the care of X, it looks like things will be a whole lot different. It has only been a couple of months but Nice has been pampered. Nice has never expected X to be this type of person to show so much empathy and support like this especially with the nonchalant nature that he exudes.
“I… am not really fond of those times,” the silver-haired man falls into a heavy silence, his body tense as he recounts these memories with unease. He looks away, attempting to shrug it off but X notices. After spending quite some time with the fellow hero, Nice has opened up to him about his past with X partially as his free therapist, being there during his roughest times when he needs a hand or a listening ear to keep him grounded. To make sure that he is not alone and that X will always be there for him during these trying times.
“You’re living with me now,” X gives him a reassuring glance. “We’re going to make our own memories here.”
The silver-haired hero looks up with a glimmer of hope.
݁ ˖𓂃.𖠰.𓂃˖ ݁
It’s a week away from December, X is filling his trolley with baubles, Christmas lights and tinsel. He has already ordered a massive Christmas tree to be delivered in a week’s time for both him and Nice to decorate.
It’s endearing to watch Nice scurrying around, a look of determination on which colour is more suitable for the festive apartment aesthetic.
With a nod, Nice makes the call, “Let’s get these colours.” His arms are filled with red and gold baubles.
“Very festive, add that in the cart.”
Nice’s eyes sparkle, it’s been endearing for both Nice and X, specifically for X personally, to see the younger man open up to him easily compared to the first day he took him in. Once stoic and guarded like a stray cat that has been out in the streets. Nice has been so used to being denied and disregarded for so long in his time in Treeman that he found it unbelievable for someone like X to be open to nearly every single request that Nice has asked for.
Well, Nice doesn’t ask for a lot but X is always so observant. X knows that Nice is a sensitive soul, a slight ounce of rejection sends Nice into a bit of inner turmoil that Nice tries to cover up with his smiley facade. But X sees through it all and he understands that’s how he is due to his upbringing and that’s ok because he adores him for who he is.
“X, thoughts on knitting Christmas sweaters?”
“Can’t we just buy one from the store?” X jokes.
Nice pouts. “I thought it would be a nice activity to do for Christmas,” with his coloured wool and knitting tool kits in hand shyly hidden behind his back. The taller man gently pulls the other’s arm to his front to see what he obviously has.
X is not one for activity that requires repetitive movement, particular tasks like these would bore him but he knows that Nice is very much into this sort of craft, he knows that Nice thrives in anything that revolves around a needle - he has mentioned before that he used to regularly sew his hero and ballet wear back when he was younger.
Well, if he could fulfil a long-term hobby of his and make this Christmas special for him, he would be willing to do it for the younger hero.
“You’re going to have to teach me though.”
The silver-haired hero lets out the biggest smile.
That smile was worth every knot.
݁ ˖𓂃.𖠰.𓂃˖ ݁
Nice stretches his arms and gently fluffs out his woollen work, already halfway through, a lovely forest green with a classic red, beige pattern running across the top half of the sweater.
“Is this for me, sweetheart?”
Nice’s cheeks are dusted in a light pink, a sight that X embraces every time. Nice is still not used to X sweet calling him names. He would retaliate but when X lays his palm underneath his ear, with the pressure of his long fingers caressing the back of his hair, he succumbs to his touch, falling into complete bliss, knowing that he calls him out of affection.
He nods shyly. Yes, it was. “How is yours going?”
X pulls out his woollen project, he has woven his half in a similar pattern to Nice’s but of opposite colours. “Not as good as yours.”
Nice presses his fingers across the pattern, “It’s looking good so far.” He smiles inwardly, appreciative that X would put in the effort to get this far. Initially, it was a bit of struggle to get the hang of it, the first few samples a bit wonky or unusable but the more time they spent together, the knotting process itself became natural to the both of them. A wave of gratitude surged through him as he eyes the knitted piece.
He’s done a fair bit of progress and judging by the length of this piece, he’s getting up to the-
Nice feels the presence of two hands on the sides of his waist, squeezing inwards to connect the tips of his fingers to touch.
The smaller man nearly squeals. “What are you doing!?” he yelps.
“Checking your measurements,” X says casually as he looks down with razor eye focus, searing the view into his brain.
“Stop being silly. You’ll need a measuring tape for that!” Nice attempts to scramble his way out of X’s grip but X puts him in his place, tightening his grip, pleased by the sensation of his touch on his body.
“Stay still, sweetheart. I just got to make sure,” he smirks cheekily.
“You! We’re knitting oversized sweaters!” There’s no point in getting his waist measurements! Nice would’ve struggled more if it weren’t for the fact that he undeniably likes it.
Ah, this is not good for his heart.
݁ ˖𓂃.𖠰.𓂃˖ ݁
The city is filled with bustle and cheer, snow lightly pitter pattering and festive lights bouncing off from the piled snow from the cobblestone streets. The pair are dressed in their knitted sweaters, overlaid with long coats to keep them warm. As much as they enjoy the liveliness of the crowd, they retreat away into a small winter Christmas-themed garden with a few people roaming the place. A place where they can share their intimacy and enjoy each other.
They walk, hand in hand but Nice stops in his tracks. He has been longing to say this for a while now. “Thank you for making this a special Christmas for me.” As he is telling him this, his eyes are elsewhere but his heart is in the moment. “You’ve done so much for me and I am forever grateful. Everything we’ve done together, I loved being a part of it. I love being with you. I think I’m in love with you.”
“Is this all a part of your plan?” X chuckles.
The silver-haired man is confused.
The taller man points his finger to the top and there it is - a string of mistletoe hanging off underneath the centre of the metal arch in all its traditional green red glory.
“Have you heard that if you kiss under the mistletoe that you will become lovers?”
Before Nice could protest, the taller man slips his arms around Nice’s waist, pulling him closer towards his own. “Only one way to find out.”
Everything happens in slow motion, Nice’s lips pucker open as X dives in for the kiss, eyes closing just in time before their lips connect.
Nice could feel the pressure of the other’s lip on his, it's soft and his heart flutters from the warmth. Ah, so this is what love feels like.
A second or two more they stay in their embrace, Nice prepares to back away but X pulls his head deeper, tongue probing for entrance. His heart is beating so fast but Nice lets him. He lets himself melt into lip lock with the taller man, it’s slow and sensual but firm with X leading with every lick and suck.
After what seems like eternity, Nice attempts to push him away but not because he didn’t want it but due to lack of air. X draws away from the shorter man slowly, eyes focused on the angel before him - gasping for air, hand clutched to his chest, his snow skin now painted in shades of pink and red and his lips plump and wet from the kiss.
Ah, X thought to himself, he looks so damn irresistible right now, truly a gift blessed by the Gods. X closes in again for another kiss, but Nice waves his hands in nervousness and yelps, “W-Wait wait wait, X.”
X halts, confused. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he stammers. X is too bold and he’s moving too fast for him. His mind is not quick enough, this is all too much for him but there’s one thing he has to know. How does one simply want someone so confidently? How does this man before him know that he wants him? He has to make sure for his own sanity. “D- Does that make us lovers?” he blurts out.
A pause.
X gives him a deadpan expression. “After sucking your face off, you still question what we are?”
“It’s not what you think, you-,”
X cuts him off with a chuckle. He knows what he wants to hear and it’s about time he stops playing around with his shenanigans because X has always wanted this the day he took him in so he closes in.
“We’re lovers, sweetheart,” X smiles, hand caressing the side of Nice’s face, pulling him closer again, admiring the look of bewilderment in his blue eyes. “I love you.”
Nice lets out a gasp.
I love you.
When the three words finally settled in, his heart started beating fast, an overwhelming surge of warmth tingling through.
“You look like you don’t believe me.”
Nice lets out a muffled sob.
The older man coos. “You just want me to kiss you again.”
Nice hits him on his chest lightly and lets out a laugh, wiping his tears away. “Take me home and kiss me more there.”
Say less. “Let’s take this home, why don’t we?”