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Keigo came to find him on Enji’s lunch break, snatching the untouched apple up off of his desk and polishing it against his collar, and when he took a loud bite from its flesh, all he managed to get out of Enji was a bemused huff.
“Sup, Teach,” he’s said with a devil’s smile, and Enji could already hear the spiel revving itself up behind a row of perfect teeth. It’s a look Enji always falls prey to no matter how far he sees it coming, and this time was no different.
“What do you want, Takami?”
Keigo hummed and propped one of his hips up on Enji’s desk and took a second shameless bite from Enji’s apple.
“I’ve got a favor to ask ya,” he said as he chewed. “Nothing serious, but I kinda need your car for something tonight. I’ll cover the gas and whatever, so don’t worry about that. Oh! I’ll even throw in some of my super special killer double cocoa bomb dazzle dazzle hot chocolate with extra whipped cream on top, just how you like your coffee.”
Somehow he thought punctuating that nonsense with a wink was supposed to make Enji take him seriously. It did not.
Enji raised an eyebrow. “Why are you selling this so hard?”
“I’m desperate.”
Keigo offered a more honest grimace that would have probably been more efficient in the first place. Helping a colleague—no, a friend—in need, he can do. Being conned into one of Keigo’s schemes is a whole different story.
Enji exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “Are you in trouble?”
“Nope! Just out of time, I guess, but, like, you’d be really doing me a solid here, Big Guy.”
He probably should have taken a moment to consider the pro’s and con’s of giving Keigo what he wanted, especially considering the fact that he didn’t tell him what this mysterious favor was, but the cold weather has made Enji soft, whether he likes it or not, and Keigo may be an increasingly consistent pain in his ass, but he’s a good teacher despite his questionable qualifications, and so far, the most he’s ever swindled Enji out of is a hot meal.
So like a fool, he said yes and sent Keigo on his way so he could finish his lunch in peace. Reheated soup never tasted so dry.
Now it’s the afternoon, and all of the students have gone home. Enji gathers his things inside his leather satchel. He just finished grading the last essay he assigned the week before and gave the student a fair 90 points. He’s not entirely unreasonable.
It’s dark out now. The sun set hours ago, bringing in nightfall too early for a weary mind. The year was long, but he does miss when the days were longer and the sun still hung too hot in the sky and his classroom was lit for him until he was back in his own home.
He idly thinks about Keigo and his ridiculous little bicycle braving the night and the cold every time he goes home and frowns. It’s not an ideal way for a person to commute, in his opinion. He’s going to make himself sick.
Enji makes his way to Keigo’s classroom, resigning to help him with whatever it is that he needs, and then he’ll go home where it’s warm and he has better leftovers waiting for him than what he packed himself for lunch this morning.
All he knows about this mysterious favor is that it involves Keigo needing to borrow Enji’s car and the promise that Keigo will bribe him with a cup of hot chocolate for helping him.
The drink is unnecessary, but he’s on his way there just the same. He still has yet to find out if this is a waste of time or not, and he won’t hesitate to leave if that becomes the case, but Enji gives Keigo the benefit of the doubt. It did seem important.
Keigo is locking his classroom door when he gets there.
His face lights up at the sight of Enji, too thrilled and too hopeful to see him, but before Enji can snuff that light out and remind him that this is strictly business, Keigo is hiking his bag up on his shoulder and marching down the hall without him.
Keigo looks over his shoulder, and Enji feels some part of himself soften. Damn this fool for tugging on him in any direction he pleases. “Thanks a lot, Todoroki. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“No, I don’t,” he says as he follows him, long strides easily keeping up with Keigo’s brisker ones. “You still haven’t told me what you need help with.”
“I need to pick up something. Can’t fit it in my backpack, and lord knows I’d hate to have it fall off the back of my bike on the way here. What a nightmare!”
“Is it for your class?”
“Yes, sir!”
Enji has on occasion helped him move large boxes of paint and other art supplies he couldn’t transport on his own, so this being the big favor should come as no surprise at all, but he’s usually more upfront about it.
And as inconvenient as it is, Enji hardly sees an issue with helping a fellow faculty member bring in materials for their students. After all, education of all forms isn’t something he takes lightly.
“Fine,” Enji says.
“Thank you! I owe you big time!”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Enji is not entirely fond of the idea of Keigo owing him anything, and he would like it if they both considered this as a necessary errand for Keigo’s students and nothing more.
Yes, that’s what he thinks as Keigo sways a little too gallantly alongside him. He’s glad to see they’re on the same page.
They both get into Enji’s car with Keigo’s bicycle still chained on the rack, confirming Enji’s suspicions that this will turn into a longer errand run than he had been led to believe.
“We’ll be returning to campus then.”
“Yes, please.”
Enji hums with a furrow to his brow as Keigo too eagerly fastens his seatbelt next to him. “That wasn’t mentioned before.”
“I did say I would cover gas.”
He glances at Keigo out of the corner of his eye in his poorly made hat and scarf and frowns. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Oh come on, Big Guy, you’re gonna make me feel like a freeloader!”
“That never seemed to bother you before.”
Keigo adjusts himself in his seat and folds his arms across his chest. “This time is different.”
“How.”
“Getting you to buy me dinner is fun. Having to ask for help because I can’t do something by myself is not.”
Enji exhales and puts his key into the ignition. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Are we going to the art supply store again?”
“Oh, no, here,” Keigo says before digging into his bag. He pulls out a small sheet of paper with an address scratched onto it in small illegible letters. “This place.”
“What are you up to, Takami.”
“Keigo, and nothing, I swear! It’s totally legit!”
Enji isn’t at all convinced.
“Boy, what are you not telling me?”
Keigo exhales and slumps down in his seat, rubbing his face with both hands. “You’re gonna change your mind if I tell you before we get there.”
“I might anyway.”
“Todoroki, please.”
“Is this one of your ridiculous little cafes.”
“No, it’s really for my class,” he insists. “Or my classroom. I kinda fucked up a little, and if I don’t fix it tonight, a whole buncha kids are gonna be bummed out tomorrow.”
“Spit it out already.”
“It’s a tree farm, okay?” Keigo practically wails. “I need to get a Christmas tree for my classroom by tomorrow, and it turns out you really cannot fit one of those on the back of a bicycle.”
“Your students will manage just fine without it,” Enji says firmly, and Keigo looks at him with a furrowed, pleading brow, but he doesn’t whine. He doesn’t beg him to listen to some sort of convoluted reason pulled out of thin air, he just stares at him with the intensity of a man who has run out of options. Enji wasn’t the starting point this time.
He squeezes his eyes shut and curses himself. It looks like he’ll be picking needles out from between his car seats for the next two years.
Fine.
Without another word, Enji backs his car out of its parking space, and Keigo immediately sits back up in his seat.
“Where are we going?”
“Your tree farm,” he says. “Pay attention, you’ll be giving directions.”
“Aye, aye, captain! You can count on me.”
Thirty minutes later, they arrive at the Christmas tree farm, and Keigo leads the way with enough vigor to be emphatically exhausting, and if Enji thought Keigo would have a plan before coming here, he’s a bigger fool than he previously thought.
“So you just pick one?”
“Yes.”
“Any tree?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Awesome,” Keigo nods, staring out at the pseudo-forest as in over his head as he can be. “You’ve done this before, right?”
“Yes, when my children were younger.”
“Sweet. Lead the way!”
Enji hums in disapproval. He didn’t like doing this when he had to, and it’s different when it’s for small children. A grown man should know what he wants and shouldn’t hesitate to get it. “You act like this is your first time having a Christmas tree.”
“Bingo,” Keigo chimes, and then he disappears into the trees without another word of explanation. Enji huffs an annoyed breath and follows him, and he notes that his favorite leather loafers are not the appropriate footwear for snow-damp grass. “Whoa, look at this one!”
Enji’s eyes trail up the length of the largest tree on the lot, and he shakes his head. “No.”
“And why not? Do my students not deserve the biggest and the best?”
“It won’t fit in the classroom.”
“Sure it will, you just have to picture the nice little corner I’ve got cleared out,” Keigo says, spreading his arms around him. “It’s perfect.”
“It’s too tall.”
Keigo looks back at the tree and scratches his chin. “Are you sure? I didn’t bring a measuring tape, but I think it should be fine.”
Enji sighs and raises his hand above his head. “The classrooms are only as high as the tips of my fingers.”
“Ohhh,” he nods. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying. So I should stick with a tree you can reach the top of.”
“If you plan on being excessive.”
“I do.”
Enji hums, refusing to indulge him anymore.
“Hey quick question.”
“What is it?”
“How do you know you can reach the classroom ceilings, Mr. No Fun.”
Enji forces back a smile as he continues down the main path, leaving Keigo behind with his too big tree. “I’ve been this height since my youth.”
“Oh my god,” he says, hurrying to catch up with him. “Was Todoroki Enji a hellraiser?”
“I was no such thing.”
“A bad boy class skipper, huh,” Keigo grins. “Bet you used to slap shit up on the roof just to fuck with your teachers, huh? Let’s see that report card, I wanna know the deets.”
“There will be no deets,” Enji says to Keigo’s unfortunate delight. “Hurry up and pick your tree before they close if this is as important as you claimed it was.”
“Right. Tree for the kids, got it. Let’s do this.”
Now that Keigo has a clear height restriction, the search for the perfect tree is more direct than when they first arrived, but Enji does not appreciate being deemed Keigo’s personal measuring tape.
“How about this one?”
“No.”
“Oh come on, just try it,” Keigo says. “I can tell this one isn’t too tall.”
“It’s too round.”
“It’s perfect.”
“It won’t fit through the door.”
“I’ll make it fit.”
Enji exhales and frowns. He thinks Keigo should pick a different tree, but it’s getting late, and he would like to return at a reasonable hour. They still have to take one of these back to the school after all, and he has serious doubts that Keigo can set one up by himself without prior know-how.
“Well,” Keigo says. “I guess we should make sure it’s the right height first.”
Enji grunts begrudgingly as he reaches his arm into the air like a glorified puppet, and sure enough, his palm easily soars above the highest branch. The tree isn’t too tall for the building. “It’s still too wide.”
“It’s perfect,” Keigo insists as he slips their little buyers tag onto one of the branches. “This is the one.”
“And you’re sure.”
“Positive. This tree is my soulmate.”
Enji raises an eyebrow, but Keigo is too busy inspecting his tree to fire out any more quips. Yes, this man is certainly an art teacher.
“Hmph.”
It takes both of them to maneuver the tree from the school parking lot all the way to Keigo’s classroom, rounding each corner with caution and a satisfying amount of teamwork.
Keigo leads at the front, holding the lightest part of the tree as he paddles backwards down the hall, and Enji carries the base, his focus on the weight of the tree in his hands and the tired feet beneath him. Keigo never stops smiling, and if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t once caused them to stumble, Enji might curse him for it.
“Here we are,” Keigo says outside of his classroom. They prop the tree up against the wall so he can unlock the door, and Enji takes that moment of reprieve to stretch his back. There’s more than one reason why he doesn’t put one of these in his house anymore, and the trek to the door reminded him of at least three of them.
Keigo steps in first and turns on the lights. Enji helps him get the tree into the room, and they set it up in the corner where Keigo’s desk used to be. Enji doesn’t ask what he’s done with it because frankly he doesn’t need to know. What this man does with his own office furniture is none of his business.
“See, it’s perfect.”
“It’s fine.”
“I knew you’d love it.”
Enji frowns, ignoring his teasing. “So is this all, then?”
“Oh yeah,” Keigo stops and digs out his wallet. He pulls out a few banknotes and hands them towards Enji. “Thanks for the help, Big Guy. I’ll bring the cocoa in a thermos tomorrow if that’s okay.”
Enji waves his hand away, refusing the gesture. “Keep your money.”
“Oh come on, we agreed.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to anything,” he says. “All I did was decide to take you to the tree farm, and now I’m taking you home. It’s late, get your things.”
“Ahh, normally I would jump at the chance for like at least three of those statements, but I’ve actually gotta do some more around here before I can leave. It’s cool, though. I’ve got my bike and all.”
Enji raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “How much longer?”
Keigo reaches down to pick up a heavy box from the floor and sets it down on one of the student’s desks and lifts up the top, revealing a collection of handmade ornaments. “This might take a minute.”
“I see.”
“Got any experience decorating a Christmas tree?”
“A little bit.”
“Sweet,” he says with a bright smile. “Because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing here.”
“Language,” Enji tsks. “We’re on school grounds.”
“It’s after hours,” Keigo says as he hooks his finger through one of the ornament loops and pulls it out of the box. “I guess you’ll have to put me on the naughty list.”
“No, thank you.”
“Not biting tonight? Alright. Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Enji removes an odd looking bauble, originally just a clear plastic ball, but it’s since been covered in seemingly random and haphazard splotches of red paint. It’s hideous. “Where on earth did you get these?”
“My kids made ‘em,” he says, proud.
“I see.”
“Yeah, they made all of this,” Keigo gestures, and Enji looks around to see that the walls are covered in artwork, all with some sort of festive theme. “The younger kids did all of the drawings, and the older ones did the ornaments for the tree. Isn’t that awesome?”
“I didn’t notice before because of all the colors. I would have expected more red and green.”
“Ah yeah, well, that would have been the plan, but I didn’t wanna run out of supplies so I told ‘em to just pick three colors they liked and go for it. As long as they stuck to the whole Christmas theme, they could do whatever they wanted.”
“I see,” Enji says as a purple elephant with a green elf hat catches his eye. “Your students are certainly creative.”
“Aren’t they?” Keigo picks up another ornament from the box, this time some sort of clay formed candy cane, and hangs it on the tree. “Now I just gotta get all these on the tree before they come in tomorrow. They’re gonna be so excited.”
Keigo beams as he gets to work, and Enji thinks it might not be the children looking forward to this so much.
The way he arranges the ornaments is all wrong and disorderly. Enji watches in disapproval as he groups them in clusters at his own eye level instead of spreading them out evenly all over the tree.
“You need to put them on the back too.”
“I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”
“They’ll feel worse if the tree tips over and their ornaments shatter.”
Keigo hums and takes an evaluative step back. “I didn’t think of that.”
“You can rotate the tree every day if you need to, but the weight of the ornaments needs to be evenly distributed,” he grumbles before moving what Keigo already put up to more appropriate places. “Like this.”
“Well I can’t reach that half, can I,” he says with his hands on his hips.
“You should have picked a smaller tree.”
Enji removes a small cardstock angel and slips it onto one of the branches. This one is a proper ornament. Well made and the viewer doesn’t have to guess what it’s supposed to be. Enji’s never been a fan of the abstract or unusual.
Keigo giggles to himself, catching his attention.
He looks over to see him holding what looks to be several cotton balls glued together in a line in the palm of Keigo’s hand with red and green stripes painted along the back.
“What is that?”
“Christmas worm.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I know,” he smiles brightly. “It’s so ugly, I’m so proud.”
Enji frowns, disapprovingly. “Your students should have taken this assignment seriously.
Keigo sighs like Enji doesn’t get it, but Enji has been an educator for a long time. He knows well how important discipline is at this age. Keigo should take notes from him.
“When they're in your class they can worry about being model students, but when they're in mine, they can make ugly Christmas worms,” he says as he places the worm ornament somewhere on the tree out of sight. “Here we learn color theory, how to properly handle different art mediums, and how to think outside of the box. If you want a lesson some time, I’m free after school every day next week.”
“Hm.”
Enji doesn’t say anything more about it.
He hasn’t decorated a tree in years, he realizes. The last time he really did this, Touya was still an infant, and he and Rei took turns holding him while the other decorated. Once the children were old enough to do it by themselves, Enji only stepped in to fill in the top, and then after Natsuo had his grown spurt, it wasn’t necessary for him to participate anymore.
He and Rei were divorced not long after. They’re both happier for it now, as incompatible as fire and ice, but placing these terrible ornaments on this Christmas tree with Keigo stirs too many memories.
He holds a paper snowflake in his hand, delicate and the only thing gaudy about this one is the amount of glitter the student managed to glue on. He turns it over and sees the name of the artist and swallows.
“I know this is a weird thing to say about a kid, but he’s really good with scissors,” Keigo says. “If nothing else works out, he could probably make one hell of a barber. Or like a tailor, maybe. What other jobs use scissors?”
“Art teachers.”
Keigo laughs brightly and elbows him. “He makes jokes.”
“On occasion.”
“Hey, I'm gonna let them take their decorations home after the holidays. Maybe you can hang this little guy up on your own tree next year.”
“I don’t have a tree in my house.”
Keigo purses his lips and looks off. “Oh.”
“His mother and sister take care of that.”
“Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for.”
“I forgot you were divorced.”
Enji looks down at the fool incredulously. “You’ve been speaking to me this way while thinking I was still married?”
“In what way,” Keigo flashes a cheeky grin. Enji huffs and looks back at the tree, fuming enough that smoke could come out of his ears. “I’m just kidding. I knew you were married, or like, not married, but I just don’t picture you as a divorced man.”
“I see.”
“A handsome bachelor.”
“That’s enough.”
“A DILF, perhaps.”
“Takami.”
“Keigo,” he reminds him. “But hey, I didn’t even have a tree growing up so, like, that’s kind of why I decided to do this, you know? Let the kids all have a little piece of Christmas they made themselves, and hopefully that doesn’t backfire, but so far so good, I think. Anyways, I think you should get a wreath maybe.”
Enji looks at him and furrows his brow. “What the hell are you talking about, boy?”
“I have no idea.”
“Hm.”
“I’m trying to wiggle my foot out of my mouth.”
“I see.”
“Is it working?”
“I don’t believe so, no.”
“Great,” Keigo breathes. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he says, and he supposes now would be a good time to change the subject. “Did your family not celebrate?”
“Hm?”
“You said you’ve never had a tree, and your ornament placement could use improvement.”
“Oh, nah,” he laughs. “Nothing like that. Ah shoot, we’re out of ornaments.”
Enji glances at him, noting the serious scowl on Keigo’s face, so he doesn’t press. There’s no need in dragging up unwanted memories at this hour, but it confirms his suspicions that indeed it’s not the children looking forward to this so much.
Keigo walks off to one of the students’ desks and grabs a chair before bringing it back to the tree.
“What are you doing?”
“Gotta put the star on,” he says as he climbs up on it.
Enji huffs and takes the star himself and secures it on the top of the tree. “You’ll hurt yourself like that.”
“You worrying about me, Big Guy?”
“Of course not.”
Keigo hums and puts the chair back. “Liar.”
Enji does not indulge him.
“Is that all, then?”
“Yep! The last thing I needed was the tree, so we’re good to go,” Keigo chirps and gestures towards the room. “So what do you think?”
“It’s…,” Enji pauses to look around at all the decorations. “Colorful.”
“It’s great isn’t it?”
“If your students are happy, I’m sure it is.”
“I knew you’d come around,” Keigo winks. “Sorry I couldn’t throw in some mistletoe for ya. Smoochin’ on school grounds is against the rules even for teachers.”
Enji feels a heat he might call annoyance travel up to his cheeks. “I’m aware.”
“You gotta give me something here.”
“I do not.”
Keigo seems too delighted by him, face lighting up in one of those clever smiles that have been itching their way underneath Enji’s skin ever since he started working here. Sometimes, he’s too smart for his own good, and sometimes he’s just a kid, too playful and never serious enough for Enji’s taste.
“Well, I guess we should get going then. It’s late, and this guy needs his beauty sleep,” he points his thumbs at himself. His smile drops into a confused frown as he looks around the room. “Uh, have you seen my bag?”
“It’s in my car.”
“Oh,” he laughs nervously. “My bad.”
Enji raises an eyebrow.
“I didn’t do that on purpose this time, I swear,” he insists. “I was just hyped about the tree. Honest mistake.”
“I planned on driving you home anyway,” he says. “If you’re finished in here, we should leave now.”
“Right. Good idea. Let’s get outta here.”
Enji is a damn fool because only a damn fool would agree to do a favor for Takami Keigo only to later end up buying the man dinner. Again.
Tonight he lets Keigo talk him into stopping by a sukiyaki restaurant, and Enji doesn’t complain because it isn’t one of his ridiculous cafes that only serve foreign food this time. This is familiar and warm in his belly, and after spending half the night walking around outside not dressed to do more than sit inside his classroom, it’s a welcome way to end the night.
Keigo eats like he hasn’t eaten all week, and Enji isn’t sure if he really doesn’t eat enough or if he just enjoys food that much. He supposes Keigo wouldn’t tell him even if he asked.
He covers his mouth as he breathes out a puff of steam from the mushroom he just shoved in recklessly, and Enji pretends like he doesn’t see it. No manners at all, this one.
“This is delicious,” he says, still chewing as expected. “We should come back here next week.”
All Enji gives him is a noncommittal hum.
“Oh? Is that a yes?” Keigo grins.
“That was not.”
“It wasn’t a no either.”
“You can do what you want in your free time,” Enji says. “It makes no difference to me.”
Keigo hums and taps the small sign next to the table. “Free dumplings on Tuesdays. Looks like a can’t miss opportunity.”
“I’m sure you’re a fan of those.”
“What, dumpings?”
“Can’t miss opportunities.”
Keigo sits up and laughs. “Alright, you caught me. I’m guilty.”
Enji nods and returns to his meal. “Yes.”
“So how about next Tuesday?”
The next morning, Enji sits down at his desk an hour before the students arrive. It was a late night, and he’s more tired today than usual, but the faculty room coffee pot is an old and familiar friend.
Since his papers are all graded, he can comfortably take his time, thinking about the lectures for the day and the upcoming exams his students are all dreading. It’s important that they all pass, but he can’t insult them by making it too easy. He’ll have to be diligent with his preparations.
He takes his travel mug to the faculty room, and since he’s the first one here, that means he’ll be the one to make the first pot this morning. Fine, he’s the only teacher in this school who can make it strong enough anyway.
Once he has his coffee ready for the first part of the day, he walks back to his classroom, and when he gets back to his desk, he sees a thermos placed right in the center with a small note left next to it by its owner.
Sorry I’m out of whipped cream. Thanks for saving my ass!
“Hmph.”
Enji picks up the thermos, warm and heavy in his hands, and he unscrews the top to see what could possibly be inside. The sweet scent of milky chocolate wafts out, and he raises the edge to his mouth for a taste. It’s rich, richer than the kind of hot chocolate from the instant packets, but there’s a warmth to it, probably from cinnamon, and there’s a little bite that hits the back of his throat. Some kind of pepper, maybe.
He’s never had to consider the makeup of a cup of hot chocolate before. He isn’t sure if this should be concerning or not.
Enji sets down the thermon next to his travel mug, and he considers this enough evidence that Keigo is probably here early too. He must have come just to see his tree again, the fool.
He walks down to Keigo’s classroom and knocks on the door because he’s polite and doesn’t let himself into other faculty members’ classrooms without permission, and Keigo calls out for him to come in.
“Oh, hey,” he smiles brightly. “I see you didn’t bring it back to throw it at me so I take it the cocoa was okay.”
“It was fine.”
“Just fine?”
Enji exhales, and Keigo waves his hand.
“I got it, I got it, you don’t do compliments,” he says. “So serious. Anyways, did you need something?”
“I came to say thank you, is all.”
“I do keep my word, you know,” Keigo raises an eyebrow. “If I say I’m going to do something, I always try my best to.”
“I know you do,” he says with a slight frown. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Keigo manages a cordial smile and looks off into his classroom. “Looks great in the daylight, huh.”
“It does.”
“I love how it kind of looks like a rainbow,” he says. “Nothing here pretends to be anything it isn’t, and none of the kids had to worry about doing Christmas wrong. So yeah, there are red and white candy canes next to green yeti Santas and blue toy factory robots, but maybe this is what Christmas looks like to them. Maybe to one kid it’s red like the perfect polar bear soda commercial, but to another it’s bright orange like the basketball their dad gave them when they were little. I think it’s awesome.”
“Is that what your dad gave you?”
Keigo tuts and shakes his head. “Nah, I wish. My Christmases never looked like that. I think mine were more of a weird cream color.”
“How so?”
“The orphanage I grew up in used to get a bunch of used books donated to it for Christmas every year, and that's what color the covers reminded me of, I guess.”
Enji pales, realizing how crass his behavior and attitude towards Christmas last night must have been. He can’t apologize because Keigo wouldn’t take it well, but he should do something to make up for it. Keigo doesn’t need this first experience soured by a bitter divorced man who didn’t spend enough time spoiling his children.
His first real memory of Christmas might very well be this attempt to give a Christmas to his students who might not have one at home, just as he didn’t.
He didn’t know how to decorate his own tree…
“Tak– Keigo.”
“Hmm?” Keigo turns towards him.
“My children will spend Christmas with their mother this year.”
“Ah yeah?”
“Would you consider having dinner with me that night?”
Keigo hums, but his ears turn a revealing shade of red, Enji swears he sees his shoulders flutter, if that’s even humanly possible. “I’ll have to check my schedule, but I think I could squeeze you in.”
“Very well.”
Enji turns to leave before he can have the chance to regret what he just asked for, but Keigo stops him anyway.
“Is my place okay? I know we always eat out, but I would like to cook you a proper meal, if that’s okay.”
“That will be fine.”
“Great! I’ll make more hot chocolate too! Do you like eggnog? Wait, don’t tell me, I want it to be a surprise,” he says quickly, baffling Enji at the speed of light. “Shit, I gotta learn how to cook for two people.”
“Keigo.”
“No, it’s cool, I’ve got this,” he says. “This is going to be great. You won’t regret this.”
Enji does not say he already regrets this.
“Keigo.”
“Yep?”
“Would you prefer if I brought dinner with me?”
Keigo shakes his head and waves his hands. “No, no, no, I’m gonna blow your socks off, don’t you worry. Leave it to me.”
Enji hums and nods. “Fine.”
“I won’t let you down,” he says, all too happily, and it might hurt a little. He’s not sure if anyone has ever looked at him like this before, and he wishes he could say that Keigo should be more concerned about Enji letting him down.
But he doesn’t.
It’s not the time for that.
“I will see you then.”
What in the world is Enji supposed to get another man for Christmas?