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Yone really hates Christmas. Hate is probably a bit strong, his feelings aren’t that intense; he finds it supremely unnecessary. There, that’s a nicer way of putting it.
Christmas at home simply meant another day where their parents would be absent, and Yone would have to figure out how to amuse his brother. It was always a quiet evening, barely a word exchanged and only occasionally a gift.
By comparison, it seems his first Christmas in the Heartsteel house will be significantly more lively.
When Yone returns to the house it’s already dark out, but with how close they are to the winter solstice, that doesn’t mean much these days. It snowed yesterday, but most of it has already melted and left behind a grey, unpleasant sludge that dirties his shoes. At least the windows are all closed and only a few are lit up. The boys have the sense to save heat and electricity while he’s gone.
His moment of serenity is immediately dispelled, however, upon opening the door.
“No, you idiot! My left!”
“You just said right!”
“Yeah, your right, my left! Keep up!”
If Yone were a rich man, he’d fund research to figure out how to stop Ezreal and Kayn from squabbling like feral cats. Surely only the brightest minds could possibly figure that out, seeing as Yone still hasn’t found a way.
He removes his shoes and tucks them into the rack, though spends a moment longer collecting those that had been tossed aside with little care. Running shoes, scruffy trainers, Yone scowls as one he picks up has a large hole in the sole. Probably one of Kayn’s.
Sett, K’Sante, and Aphelios are all at the dining table, watching with rapt intrigue as Kayn and Ezreal fight over the tree. The pitch of their argument has risen by an octave, yet it hasn’t reached the level for required intervention just yet.
Aphelios doesn’t even look up from his phone to shoot out a signed, “ Hey. ”
“I’m back,” Yone announces mostly by force of habit as he drops onto the chair beside K’Sante.
“Welcome home,” says K’Sante, dragging Yone closer to plant a kiss to his hairline. It still makes him giddy.
“My money’s on Ez,” Sett says, poking at a bowl of half melted ice cream.
Aphelios reaches over to steal a spoonful, and Sett must be in a good mood because he doesn’t even challenge it. “ Kayn got a passive aggressive text from his dad earlier. He’ll blow first, ” he signs.
“Why do you keep moving my stuff?!” Ezreal squawks indignantly.
“You’re putting too much crap on your side!” Kayn snaps back, “The whole thing’s gonna topple.”
He’s already developing a migraine.
“How was the meeting?” K’Sante asks, his voice warm and grounding. Yone sags into him.
“They seem pretty eager to strike while the iron is hot, but they’re going to wait until after the holidays.” Yone sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I don’t see why they can’t just give us an answer now.”
“But they said they’d be in touch, right? That’s good.”
“I suppose…”
“Hey.” K’Sante beckons Yone to sit up straight and looks him in the eye. “It will all be fine. Just take your break and we’ll deal with it in the new year.”
“I don’t think I can wait until the new year.”
Sett gives up on his bowl and slides it to Aphelios to finish off. “It was you negotiating so they’ll totally say yes. Don’t worry about it.”
“So what, I spend the next few weeks twiddling my thumbs?”
Aphelios finally looks up from his phone with a pout. “ No way. You spend the next few weeks sleeping and eating and getting shit faced. It’s Christmas. ”
“Hell yeah!” Sett yells, then softer, “oh yeah, my momma’s coming over on Christmas Day.”
He wasn’t asking permission, but no one would’ve said no anyway.
“I might invite Tope, if he’s not got plans,” K’Sante muses aloud, “he still wants to meet you.”
“To ensure I’m up to standard?” Yone asks.
K’Sante laughs. “To warn you of all my shortcomings, more likely.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t then,” Sett says, “I dunno if you guys can withstand that.”
They had been together for years, more than enough time to figure out each other’s quirks. K’Sante snores loud enough to wake the dead, but Yone stays up until six working anyway. Yone forgets to eat when he works too hard, but K’Sante always makes too much. They’re helpfully compatible in that sense. There’s very little other than a literal skeleton in the closet that Tope could drop on Yone now to put him off.
“Should we break them up?” Aphelios asks, gesturing to the duo still squabbling over the tree, “I wanna watch Bake Off.”
Sett snorts, rising to his feet. “Hey, dumb and dumber, you finishin’ up?”
Yone doesn’t pay much attention to the yelped responses, returning to his phone. He has plenty of messages and emails, but most of them are business. He still hasn’t heard from his brother-
“C’mon,” K’Sante says, gently tugging at Yone’s arm, “no work till the new year, alright?”
Yone allows him to, reluctantly placing it face down onto the table with a sigh. “Fine, no work till next year.”
Yone has gone a full three days without checking his emails; truly a Christmas miracle. Usually he’d use this time to file invoices, schedule consultations with producers, maybe a bit of promotion on the side.
Right now there’s nothing to do but wait, and Yone really doesn’t like waiting. So on the third day, when he’s sure everyone else is out, he settles into an armchair in the living room and checks his emails.
There’s a few dithery bits, most of which he can just move to non-urgent or spam, but no word on an offer from the label yet. Yone scowls at his screen and goes to start replying when-
“Hey, we said no work.”
It seems Kayn is home. Yone doesn’t look up at him, but feels his weight leaning against the cushion. “It will only be brief.”
“Quit staring at your phone. I’m right here.”
Yone ignores him.
In response, Kayn huffs and clambers onto the armchair, sprawling across Yone’s lap like an entitled cat. Kayn plucks the phone from Yone’s hands and tosses it onto the coffee table.
“You’ll break it-”
“Your case is reinforced or whatever, it’ll be fine.”
Yone sighs and slumps back against the chair. “What do you want?”
“Nothin’,” Kayn says, “just wanted to pester you.”
Kayn makes himself comfortable, bonking his head into Yone’s shoulder and crossing his arms over his chest. He’s truly an awful liar.
Yone sighs. “Well, consider me pestered. Was that really all?”
“Yeah,” Kayn says, then quieter, “I mean, yeah, or well, I guess- Argh!”
Kayn wriggles for a second until he eventually wrestles his own phone from his pocket and opens his messages, tapping the cracked screen erratically with his nails.
“It’s so stupid, you’re gonna laugh, ha-”
“I won’t.”
“I know you won’t, that’s what makes this so much lamer. Phel would laugh.”
“Phel’s not here.”
“So I’m stuck with you.”
“ You sat on me. ”
“It’s my dad,” Kayn finally admits, “Shen- his husband, my kinda stepdad, he’s going to Akali’s, and Akali hates my dad so he’s not going. He’s gonna stay home by himself. But like, he won’t ask , he’d never ask, he's too stubborn, but I feel like I’ve gotta invite him to ours.”
Yone frowns. “Is that a problem? Sett’s mother is already attending, your father won’t make much difference.”
Kayn lets out a long, pained groan. “He’ll totally bring the vibe down.”
“Sit him with me, then. We can be boring together.”
Kayn stares at Yone as though he’s grown two extra heads, then he pouts. “It’s not that he’s boring, he’s just, I dunno, he’s weird.”
“I see where you get it from,” Yone hums.
“Asshole.” Even so, Kayn doesn’t get up, keeps his head on Yone’s shoulder. Apparently Yone had a future in being a cushion, should the music producer route not work out.
Yone reaches up and brushes some hair from Kayn’s face, preventing him from hiding behind his bangs. “Message your father.”
Kayn only whines like a wounded dog, but he starts typing to his dad anyway.
The house is certainly… loud.
It’s not at all unexpected, with nine of them crowded into their admittedly pretty small living room. Even when Sett and K’Sante make themselves scarce to finish the food, the claustrophobia is suffocating. Yone gravitates to the edge of the room, nursing his drink and offering polite smiles to anyone who glances his way.
At least everyone else is mingling pleasantly enough. Aphelios hasn’t dropped anything down the back of someone’s shirt yet. Ezreal is laughing loud enough at Tope’s joke to threaten the house’s foundations. Sett’s mother, Yieveh, is attempting to offer her helpful but really unnecessary advice into the kitchen.
Then he spots Kayn’s sour face. Now, we can’t have that on Christmas.
Yone slips through the congregation until he reaches where Kayn is yapping about some new TV show to Alune.
“-you gotta be blind to miss the subtext.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles through a yawn, her paper party hat slipping down her forehead, “totally.”
“Look, if it wasn’t their intent, then I have no idea why- Oh, what have I done now?”
While his scowl is bad, his posture is even worse. Yone taps between his shoulder blades with a pout. “Don’t slouch, it’ll make you age faster.”
“Maybe I wanna be a foxy grandpa.”
“With a hunchback? Seems unlikely.”
Alune scoffs, but before Kayn can bite back, she catches the eye of Tope and makes her graceful exit.
Kayn takes a swig of his drink, straight out of the bottle. “He’s late.”
“You gave him the right time, correct?”
“‘Course I did.”
Yone holds up his hands as if dealing with a cornered animal. “Alright, then maybe he can’t find the house.”
“I gave him the address though. Unless he’s so tech illiterate that he can’t handle a satnav.”
They both glance to the front door, just basic wood with a frosted glass effect for privacy. It hasn’t properly snowed yet, but the half melted sludge is well established by now.
Yone frowns as he stares down their front door, then strides towards it and swings it open.
“Hey, what are you-” Kayn stops himself, suddenly rigid.
Yone had only ever seen Kayn’s father in photos, and even they were probably years old. He isn’t particularly tall, but certainly bulky, wide shoulders and deep lines embedded in his brow from years of scowling.
He’s wearing a hideous knitted sweater with ‘happy holidays’ lovingly stitched across the chest. In his hands is an even uglier, lumpy chocolate cake.
“Urh, hey, dad,” Kayn mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. There’s a patch of ground between his boots that’s suddenly very interesting.
“Hey,” Zed says with a similar level of stiffness.
“How long were you out here?” Kayn asks. Zed doesn’t have an answer, it seems.
Yone stands to one side and gestures them both in before they let any more heat out.
As they return, Sett and K’Sante raise their drinks and cheer. “Hey, Kayn’s old man is here,” K’Sante says.
“Just in time, we were almost gonna have to dish up without you,” Sett adds, then to the rest of the room, “Everyone get your butts in your seats, food’s comin’ down in two minutes.”
Everyone who knew Sett knew that actually meant five, but they humour him anyway.
Aside from Zed, who stands there awkwardly with his cake for another ten seconds before K’Sante comes in to rescue him and guide him to the fridge.
Yone settles into his seat between Ezreal and Tope, with the latter offering a handshake.
“Hey, don’t think I caught you before,” he says with a dazzling smile.
“Sorry, I was a little- overwhelmed. The house isn’t usually so hectic.”
Tope only shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Though-” He tilts his head back. “K’Sante! You can’t have five beautiful men, that’s just greedy!”
From the kitchen comes K’Sante’s rumbling laugh. He pokes his head around the corner. “What can I say? I’m an overachiever.”
Yone glances across the table to Zed, awkwardly squished between Yieveh and Kayn. The two seem to be at least exchanging hushed words now, both heads lowered. Gradually, Kayn’s shoulders loosen and Zed leans further back in his chair.
Then K’Sante and Sett emerge from the kitchen and hell breaks loose.
“Can you pass me the-”
“Dibs on the leg!”
“What? No way! Give it here!”
“You’re not allowed to eat until you put your party hat on!”
“No, Phel, you can’t have another-”
“ Why not? Do you want me to starve? ”
“Hey, I haven’t had any yet!”
Yone wisely decides to wait until the worst of the dust settles, after Alune has forced more of those flimsy paper hats onto everyone within arms reach, after Aphelios has nearly jammed a knife through Kayn’s hand for trying to steal a pig in blanket off his plate, after Tope has roasted K’Sante as thoroughly as the potatoes for his outfit.
“What’s wrong with it?” K’Sante asks, and if Yone didn’t know him any better he’d say K’Sante looked as though he was about to cry.
Tope looks him up and down, thoughtfully chewing his turkey. “Do you need a list?”
“ Have you gained weight, Settrigh? ” Yieveh signs with a pout.
“ I gained muscle, momma, ” Sett signs back as he tips half the gravy boat onto his plate.
There’s a little jab in Yone’s side as he reaches for more parsnips and he glances down at Ezreal. “That’s one upside to no family at the table, huh?” he says through a mouthful.
Yone blinks once, twice, the words lodging in his gut like a troublesome splinter. Then he finally shrugs, and lets the exchange die before it can even take a breath.
Thoroughly stuffed, Yone escapes to the back porch and lets out a long, steady sigh. Sett and K’Sante still somehow had leftovers and were attempting to pawn off on anyone with space in their stomachs. If Yone had to see one more roast potato, he was ‘going to commit violence’ as Aphelios often said.
The wooden railing at the edge of the deck is slightly damp when Yone leans against it, his breaths rising in little clouds. It’s been years since he smoked, but if he still did this would’ve been the perfect time.
Instead he just exists in the peace for a moment, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.
Then the door slides open behind him.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t think anyone would be out here.”
He glances back as Ezreal hovers there, rubbing the back of his neck as his lips set into a thin line. Yone gestures to the spot beside him.
“Close the door. You’re letting all the heat out.”
Ezreal blubbers for a second, but does eventually step out and close it behind him. He shuffles up to Yone’s side and flops into him. Yone’s shoulder continues to be the best cushion in the house.
“I thought you’d snuck off to check emails or something,” Ezreal laughs.
Yone just hums, brushing a hand through Ezreal’s hair. The roots are showing, but Yone decides not to comment on it. “I think K’Sante would kill me if I did.”
“I’ll bet.”
The quiet that hangs between them is comfortable, if not a little odd. Ezreal barely makes a sound, save for his quiet breathing. Then, after what feels like hours but is likely only a few minutes, he says,
“Is this the losers club?”
He means it as a joke, but the way his voice cracks gives him away. Yone reaches an arm around his shoulders. “It’s alright, we’d run out of chairs if we had any more guests.”
“Ha, I guess you’re right,” Ezreal says, sniffing loudly.
Yone had thought on it, how Ezreal never mentioned family, but it hadn’t been his place to pry. It still wasn’t, really, unless anymore was offered.
Though nothing is, he doesn’t mind too much. Ezreal’s weight on his side is comfort enough, even if the air is growing colder by the second.
They stay there until Ezreal starts sneezing and relents at being guided back in.
Yone wakes to his phone illuminating the bedroom. He doesn’t recall going to bed, though it isn’t an unpleasant realisation. K’Sante is snoring beside him, radiating heat like a furnace. Yone attempts to sit upright, then he realises Ezreal is clinging to him like a baby koala. Perhaps a less stubborn man would accept the position and return to sleep, but Yone simply soldiers on, scrabbling for the bedside table until he can retrieve it.
Taking special care not to drop his phone on Ezreal’s head, he lowers the brightness and follows the little red notification pip.
Yasuo
> merry christmas
Yone stares at the message for a long moment, the only correspondence he’s had from his younger brother in years . A weight builds in his chest and the text blurs as tears well up, threatening to breach his defences at any moment.
Yone wipes his face, takes a steady breath, and types a reply.
Yone
Merry Christmas, Yasuo. <