Archive of Our Own

Snowflakes flutter down from the heavens in thick white tufts. They dance with their own reflections of the countless window-filled skyscrapers as they drift to the busy sidewalks below. Their brilliance is fleeting and short lived, one by one they join in the gray monochrome of the city.

This isn’t to say that the city is absent of holiday spirit. Billboards glow with obnoxious reds and greens and storefronts are lit with signs screaming about sales. All the coffeeshops and bakeries have engaged in their annual battle of whether holiday desserts are better as a drink or in their original form. People are busy passionately arguing for the last of a particular toy and out-schmoozing fellow coworkers in an effort to convince their boss to give them Christmas Day off.

Above it all, the same ten Christmas carols play in a loop.

Silver bells, (silver bells), silver bells, (silver bells).

It’s Christmas time in the city.

“Ring-a-ling!”

Giyuu startles, looking up from his mountain of paperwork to see a colleague grinning in the doorway.

“Are you coming to the meeting?”

Giyuu looks down at the digital clock on his desk, the numbers obscured by the reports he is supposed to go over before the end of the day. He nudges the pile to the side and sees that he is late.

He jumps up from his desk, knocking his knee against one of the drawers. Gritting his teeth he grabs the folders holding the documents he is supposed to bring, two pens from the holder next to his nameplate, and a notebook for taking notes.

“Got a present for you, boss!” the coworker says as he half-shoves Giyuu into a monochromatic conference room.

Amidst the black suits and bland expressions, a cheap glittery snowman tries its best to liven up the atmosphere.

“Wonderful! We were just starting end of year reports!” the boss, a very rectangular shaped man, grins with brilliant white teeth and too much pep.

There is no seat for Giyuu at the table so he awkwardly crowds in a corner as the meeting resumes. He doesn’t know how long it drags on for, only that by the end of it he has two pages of scribbled notes he cannot read and his feet are aching in their shoes. He sighs, seeing that his to-do list has quadrupled in size which means it will be another late night in the office. Depending on how much other people need him to get their work done, it might even become an early morning.

“As for end of year presentations,” the boss says, clapping his hand together with excitement, “I have decided that instead of having them here, we will have them at the big company retreat at the lodge!”

The room goes quiet. Everyone hears Giyuu drop his pen.

“Sir, the lodge?” Giyuu asks, straightening up and tucking his pen into his pocket.

“Yes!” his boss cheers, “I am looking forward to your presentation in particular! It will be a gift all on its own!”

Everyone stares at him, waiting with baited breath to see if he is going to agree. There are probably hundreds of other things everyone would rather be doing for the holidays. However, just as Christmas only comes once a year, so do opportunities for promotions. Giyuu has been gunning for one for the last twelve months and he isn’t about to let it slip away.

“I hope it stands up to your expectations sir,” Giyuu nods.

He doesn’t sleep for the next two days.

In a frenzy fueled by espresso and god-awful eggnog-flavored coffee, he works himself to the bone getting everything on his to-do list done. He pushes himself to his breaking point and then when he goes past it, forces himself back together using sparkly reindeer-themed tape and gold ribbon. With a sharp eye for detail that Pinterest-perfect party-planners would be envious of, he crafts the best damn presentation his boss will ever see.

With their departure quickly approaching, Giyuu takes a taxi to his colorless apartment to pack. He haphazardly throws a couple outfits into the designer suitcase he uses for every company trip along with toiletries he has stopped unpacking from their carrying case. With how little time he spends at home, why bother?

Seeing he has a couple minutes to spare before he has to head to the train station, he does a quick round of cleaning. There isn’t much to clean in his apartment, he doesn’t have any nicknacks that need dusting or plants that need watering. Since there are no pets to find carers for and no neighbors he knows well enough to say farewell to, Giyuu gives a single nod to the hollow space he calls ‘home’ and leaves, happy knowing he will find it exactly as he left it when he returns.

“Does everyone have their tickets, Tomioka?”

“Yes, sir,” Giyuu takes twice as many steps to keep up with his boss’s pace on the train platform.

“Did you pick up the newspaper for me on the way here?”

“As always sir,” Giyuu says, handing over his boss’s favorite journal.

“And my coffee?”

“Egg-nog flavored, just as you requested,” Giyuu says, trying not to visibly cringe as his boss takes a huge sip, froth clinging to his upper lip in a thin-mustache.

“This will be the best company retreat ever! Nothing like a week away to come up with the best ideas for the next year!” his boss smiles and puffs out his chest, “and remember, while everyone is going to be presenting, I am looking forward to yours the most!”

“Thank you, sir,” Giyuu says.

“Is my cell phone charged? I would like to make some calls to our partners, see if I can convince a few of them to join us at the lodge to discuss deals.”

“Here, this is a power bank,” Giyuu hands over a small silver box with a silver bow taped to the top, “you can use it to recharge your phone while you travel.”

“Ingenious!” his boss says, ripping away the box and bow and pulling out the power bank. He pushes the discarded wrapping to Giyuu, “what’s all this? Throw it away for me.”

“Oh!” Giyuu juggles the trash, his briefcase, and his boss’s briefcase, struggling to avoid dropping anything onto the platform. His boss marches up onto the train, clapping the shoulders of their coworkers, smiling broadly.

“Merry Christmas sir,” Giyuu sighs.

On the train, Giyuu scores a row for himself and the two briefcases in a relatively quiet car. As the wheels start turning and the city flies away in a blur of white and gray, his body delightfully reminds him that the last time Giyuu had a good night’s sleep was days ago and the accumulated exhaustion is far more powerful than the energy drink he consumed earlier. He passes out before the train leaves the city and the skyscrapers are exchanged for a fantastical landscape of a snow-covered forest.

When he opens his eyes next, it is because someone is shaking his shoulder and calling him sir.

“Excuse me? Sir?”

Giyuu’s eyes fly open as he startles awake, “yes!”

“Are you heading to the city? I need to see your ticket.”

“No?” Giyuu frowns, “no, I am supposed to be going up to the lodge.”

“Oh,” the ticket-taker says.

Giyuu sits upright and gasps seeing that the entire train car is empty.

WHIIIIIIIIIIIII!

A loud train whistle echoes from the other side of the platform.

“You need to change trains, sir, the last one of the day is about to leave!” The ticket-taker cries.

“Excuse me!” Giyuu half-shoves the poor ticket-taker out of the way as he leaps from his seat and runs down the aisle. He has one hand on the doorway when he skids to a stop, “the briefcases!”

“Here!” the ticket-taker says, picking up the two cases where Giyuu left them on the seats and meeting him halfway. “Hurry!”

“Thank you!” Giyuu says and turns back around.

He leaps down from the train as the whistle of a small locomotive engine blows once more.

WHIIIIIIIIIIII!

“WAIT!” Giyuu cries, running across the platform just as the doors of the other train snap close.

The platform is covered in snow and ice, Giyuu’s shoes are not built for such terrain and he slides and skids as he runs.

“Hey!” Someone yells. “Careful!”

“Ah!” Giyuu steps on a patch of ice and his feet slip from under him. Both briefcases fly from his hands, arcing through the air and landing at the same time he face-plants on the ground.

Clunk-clunk!

Both cases fly open and their contents are picked up by the wind, thrown about like giant snowflakes.

“No!” Giyuu cries, throwing himself over the cases and trying to stop more papers from blowing away as the other train pulls out of the station, bound for the lodge without him.

Giyuu scrambles through his pockets for his phone, at the very least he should let someone know what has happened. He gasps when the only thing that displays on the front screen is an impressive spiderweb of shattered glass and nothing else; the phone must have broken when he fell.

“No, no, no!”

“Are you alright?”

Giyuu looks up from his ruined phone, dropped briefcases, and empty train tracks as a tall man looks down at him with concern. The man is alive with color: forest green pants and a red, cream, and green knitted sweater. In the cold air his cheeks and ears are rosy and his eyes, full of concern, are a rich plum color. Even his hair, despite being pure white, shines like a glowing halo around his face.

“I tried to catch as many as I could,” the man says, holding out a handful of papers. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I need to get to the lodge!” Giyuu says, pointing in the direction of the departed train, “my work- my boss- my presentation-”

“-next train isn’t until tomorrow, if it’s going to be running at all,” the man says, “there is a storm coming in tonight. We’re expecting things to be shut down until after the holidays.”

“Then I’ll take a taxi!” Giyuu cries, “I cannot miss the retreat, I cannot be stuck here for Christmas! Can you call me a car?”

“I’m not a secretary,” the man scowls, “and Green Pines is a fine place to spend Christmas.”

“’Green Pines?’ What a ridiculous name, of course pines are green!” Giyuu snaps, “Please! Find me a way up to the lodge!”

“No,” the man says, dropping the papers at Giyuu’s feet. “I’ve got many jobs in town but catering to the whim of a grown man throwing a tantrum is not one of them. Good luck and Merry Christmas.”

“You have to help me!” Giyuu yells at the man’s broad back as he marches away. “Come back here! Help me!”

The man ignores Giyuu’s shouts and disappears from sight. Giyuu shoves the papers into random briefcases, he’ll sort which belong where later. He marches back to the ticket-taker from the large train who trembles as he tells Giyuu that his suitcase was moved with everyone else’s and is currently on its way to the lodge without him.

“Do you want to return home?”

“No.” Giyuu doesn’t give up easily. With nothing but the clothes on his back, the two briefcases, and a wet butt from sitting in the snow, he stomps down the sidewalk leading into town.

Green Pines is different from the city. It consists of quaint cottages, decorated top to bottom with garland and ribbons and lights. Storefronts that line the main street, which, continuing the obvious theme, is named ‘Main Street,’ are decorated with what look like homemade garlands and signs wishing customers happy holidays. There are no speakers blaring music, instead kids laugh as they build snowmen and castles in the warm evening light. The air smells of baked goods and plain coffee.

The atmosphere is relaxed and joyous, making the stormy-tempered Giyuu stick out like a sore thumb.

“I need a room for one night,” Giyuu says to the clerk at the only hotel he has been able to find.

“The only available room we have is the attic suite,” the clerk says, handing over the key.

“It will have to do,” Giyuu says, taking it from her. “And I would like to schedule a car to pick me up and take me to the lodge tomorrow.”

“We...don’t have a car service?” the clerk says, shrinking under Giyuu’s glower, “but my friend is usually able to give people rides to places if they need it. I can ask if he’s available.”

“Very well,” Giyuu says, “I would like to leave tomorrow morning at eight-o’clock sharp.”

“Okay,” the clerk says in a small voice.

In the attic suite’s bathroom, he takes the hottest shower possible, barely enjoying five minutes of semi-warm water. He hangs his clothes out over the radiator to warm, towel dries his hair as best as he can, and crawls under the thick quilt that smells faintly like lavender.

A knock at the door startles him from his sleep.

“Hello?” Giyuu calls into the chill morning air.

“Um, my friend has his car out front,” a familiar voice meekly calls on the other side of the door.

For a second Giyuu looks around, this isn’t his bed or his room, this isn’t how he is woken up in the morning.

“Oh!” The events of the previous day come rushing back, “one moment!”

He leaps from between the sheets, pulling on his clothes from the day before and hastily packing up the room. He makes the bed even though he’d rather leave it, he doesn’t want to annoy...whatever the clerk’s name was.

“Thank you,” Giyuu says, setting his key on the counter and jogging to the front door, a briefcase in each hand. Through the glass he can see a beat up pickup truck with peeling green paint. Despite the obvious age, it does seem to be a sturdy vehicle and currently better than nothing.

“Hello!” Giyuu says, shouldering the door open and stepping into the cold, “I was told you could drive me-oh it’s you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The man from the day before leans against the side of the pickup truck, arms crossed, looking one second away from telling Giyuu to get lost. Instead he sighs and opens the side door, “let’s get this attempt over with.”

“’Attempt?’”

“Did you even look out your window this morning,” the man says, “look at the state of the roads!”

A thick blanket of snow, easily above Giyuu’s knees, covers everything in sight.

“We’re lucky the roads got plowed this early,” the man says. “I don’t know how far we’ll make it but you seemed to be in a pinch yesterday and Kanao begged.”

“I- thank you,” Giyuu says, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Don’t thank me yet,” the man mutters, “this truck may look tough but it’s been up since my younger brother backed it into a tree last week.”

Giyuu buckles his seatbelt and grips the door handle for good measure. He has yet to learn the man’s name, too intimidated by his demeanor and terrified by the drive to be able to even speak. Not that the man is much of a talker either, he focuses with cautious intensity as he guides the truck up the side of the mountain. The wind howls and the cliffs are steep. Just when Giyuu works up the courage to ask how much longer, the truck skids to a halt and the man lets out a defeated sigh.

“I’m sorry, this just isn’t going to work,” he points to the road ahead that is still covered in a thick blanket of snow, “it’s too dangerous to drive through that.”

“What if I walked?” Giyuu asks.

“In those clothes? Absolutely not, you’ll get frostbite and lose your toes.”

Giyuu bites his lip, looking at the road ahead. This cannot be happening, he cannot miss this. The man sighs again.

“I’m sorry, really. Maybe in a few days it’ll melt or they will clear this part. We can try again then.”

“Thank you,” Giyuu murmurs, trying not to cry at the thought of all his work going to waste.

The man turns the truck around and begins the equally perilous journey back down to Green Pines. They are back on the main road, in sight of the town when suddenly the truck catches a patch of ice.

“Ah!” Giyuu yelps as the truck abruptly slides off course.

“Hold on!” the man says, one arm flying out to press Giyuu into his seat. The other stays on the wheel, trying to keep them on the road, “come on you piece of junk, don’t do this to me.”

It’s no use, they spin until the truck ends up half in a snow-filled ditch, coming to a halt with a soft whumpf!

“Are you alright?” the man asks.

“Yes,” Giyuu says, breathless.

“Are you sure?”

“Just fine,” Giyuu squeaks.

The man removes his large hand and combs through his hair before trying the gas. The truck doesn’t budge. With a groan the man rests his head against the steering wheel before unbuckling his seat belt.

“The back wheels must be stuck. Stay put, I’ll dig us out.”

The man walks around to the back and reaches into the bed to pull out a shovel. Giyuu stays for less than a minute before rolling his eyes. His feet sink deep into the snow when he jumps out and the wind goes straight through the thin material of his business suit.

“What are you doing!” The man says when Giyuu drags the other shovel from the bed of the truck.

“Helping!” Giyuu shouts, “it’s my fault you ended up in this mess.”

“You’re not dressed for this! Have you ever dug a car out before?”
“Don’t try and stop me,” Giyuu snaps, throwing a shovelful of snow over his shoulder. He ignores the man’s protests in favor of repetitive work. The effort, combined with the dropping temperature and worsening weather, keep his mind off of the disaster this work holiday has become.

“Come on, that should be enough,” the man puts a hand on his shoulder. He takes the shovel from Giyuu and ushers him back into the car.

“Please be enough,” Giyuu whispers as the man turns the key and begins to cautiously ease the truck forward. The wheels spin and slide and finally grip enough to pull out of the snow with a lurch.

“Yes!” the man cheers and reaches out to punch Giyuu’s shoulder, “we did it!”
“I’m glad it worked,” Giyuu cannot help but smile along with him. “I-I’m Giyuu, by the way.”

“Sanemi,” Sanemi says, reaching out a hand. His smile disappears when their fingers touch, “you’re freezing! Do you not have any gloves or a coat?”

“All my stuff was taken up to the lodge without me,” Giyuu shrugs.

Sanemi stares intently at the steering wheel as the car approaches the entrance to town. His eyebrows pinch and he grits his jaw, seemingly at a crossroads within himself. The look is endearing, Giyuu has always thought that Sanemi-

“-detour,” Sanemi interrupts his thoughts, “we need to get you some warmer clothes and my friend’s store should be open by now.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Giyuu says.

“Don’t thank me yet, they are definitely not as sleek as your stuff.”

“Welcome to Winter Wonders! Your one-stop-shop for all things flashy, flamboyant, and festive!”

The second they step inside the store is warm and cozy. A record player in the corner plays a choral rendition of the song Winter Wonderland and as Giyuu stares out over the crowded displays of clothing, he understands the theme. Everything is made with yarns and textiles in nearly every color of the rainbow and decorated with detailing that sparkles in the light. From the smallest pair of socks up to the larger sweaters, all the garments are Christmas-themed.

“Hey Tengen,” Sanemi says to a man wearing a pair of reindeer-themed overalls adorned with bells, “he needs a couple things for the next couple days.”

“I’m on it! Gotta make sure you’re looking your best come Christmas,” Tengen says, grabbing a basket and filling it with items as he walks around the store, “let’s see, a good scarf, matching hat and mittens, yup these will do nicely!”

“This is all very nice,” Giyuu murmurs as he runs his hands over the incredibly soft material.

“Thank you!” the man, Tengen, says, “my wives and I made all of it! We spend the whole year making this, it’s a real challenge to have it all ready in time. I take my job very seriously"

“This is your job for the whole year?” Giyuu gasps, “what about your art class?”

“Aha!” Tengen cries, “we also need to get you a good sweater! This one is perfect!”
Tengen holds up a deep blue sweater decorated with white snowflakes, red and green candy canes, and a sleigh with reindeer that circles around the entire thing. Giyuu’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of it all.

“Think this will hold you over until you can get to the lodge?” Sanemi asks as Tengen shoves all the things into bags.

“Oh, yes it will be fine,” Giyuu pulls out his wallet but when he goes to pay, Tengen blocks him, “what is it?”
“I cannot charge someone down on their luck, I heard you are stuck here for Christmas alone, or at least with Sanemi here, which is basically the same thing.”

“Hey!” Sanemi scowls.

“What kind of heartless person would I be if I took advantage of that?” Tengen shakes his head.

“You cannot be serious! I must pay!” Giyuu gasps, “how else will you make a living?”

“We live by helping others in this town,” Sanemi shrugs, “just how things are done here.”

“There must be something I can do!” Giyuu says, looking back and forth between the two, “I cannot just stay here and take advantage of all your kindness!”

Tengen looks at Sanemi, “have you asked him about the sleigh?”

“Sleigh?” Giyuu says and Sanemi sighs.

“Our town has a parade on Christmas Eve every year, Sanemi wanted to drive his family’s old sleigh. You could help him fix it up,” Tengen suggests.

“It needs more than just a fix-up,” Sanemi says heavily, “I don’t know if it’ll be ready even with an extra pair of hands.”

“You never know,” Tengen says, “and don’t doubt Giyuu here, he helped you dig your truck out after all.”

“How did you know that?” Giyuu asks.

“If the sleigh fixed, we could use it to get through the snow and up to the lodge in time for your presentation,” Sanemi says.

His presentation! Giyuu had completely forgotten about it! He looked at his watch and the calendar at the counter, maybe there was still a chance he could get there in time!

“Where is this sleigh?” Giyuu says, “I’ll help you.”

“It’ll be a lot of hard work,” Sanemi says, “but if you’re willing to help, I’ll take you to my family’s barn now.”

“Deal.”

Sanemi pulls the truck in front of a small farmhouse decorated with thick garlands, red ribbons, and candles in the windows. Out front are five -no, six- other children who stop and look up as Sanemi parks and begin racing over with matching smiles on their faces.

“Big brother! Big brother!” they cry, “we made snowmen and a fort! Look!”

“That looks great,” Sanemi says as he closes the door behind him.

“And who is this?” the eldest of the bunch looks up at Giyuu with narrowed eyes. It must be Genya, he is the only one who looks old enough to drive.

“He’s a friend, going to help me with the sleigh,” Sanemi says, one sibling under each of his arms.

Giyuu bites his lip at the sight of the younger ones trying to escape the strong grip, Sanemi lifts weights just so he can do this to them.

“Why?” Genya asks.

“For your parade,” Giyuu says, “and I need to get to the lodge because the roads are closed.”

“Good luck,” Genya shrugs, “I’m rooting for you.”

“This way,” Sanemi says, nodding for Giyuu to follow him to a big red barn.

Sanemi pulls the doors open revealing an interior that smells of hay and old wood. Sitting in the center of the barn is a large object obscured by a tarp.

“Give me a hand,” Sanemi says, taking one side of the tarp.

Together he and Giyuu pull it back revealing the sleigh. It is magnificent in size, straight out of a storybook but rather lackluster in appearance. The runners are rusted, the wood is chipped, and the paint is peeling. Still, the sight takes Giyuu’s breath away.

“Wow,” Giyuu says, “where did your family get this?”

“I don’t know, it’s been passed down on my mom’s side for generations,” Sanemi says with soft reverence, carefully running his hand down the side. “I’ve been meaning to get it in shape for a while now but ran out of time.”

“Let’s get started then,” Giyuu says.

“You still want to do this? It isn’t just going to be some polish-and-shine job, whoever fixes the sleigh is also in the parade, that’s part of the tradition. You’re committing to a lot,” Sanemi says.

“I’m not afraid of commitment,” Giyuu argues, “and it sounds like you are trying to scare me off except I don’t scare easily.”

Sanemi stares at him before laughing once, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Thus begins a long day of caring for the sleigh, stripping and sanding off old paint, grinding down rust, digging through old boxes of bolts and screws to find ones that fit perfectly. Giyuu’s hands, manicured and perfectly soft, become covered in grease. An ache begins in his lower back as he spends too much time hunched over, fixating on whatever task Sanemi sets for him.

Music plays from an old radio, filling the chilly interior with a woman’s voice, accompanied by a small ensemble. After a couple songs, Giyuu picks up that carols are not the usual fare played to death in stores.

“This music,” Giyuu says, “who recorded this?”

“Do you not like it?” Sanemi asks, standing up from where he was crouched on his side of the sleigh. His winter coat long-since discarded as he did the heavier work on the opposite side of the sleigh. The top buttons of his flannel are undone and the sleeves are undone revealing the hint of a muscular chest that shines slightly with sweat.

“It’s beautiful,” Giyuu says, “I haven’t heard this group play before.”

“You wouldn’t,” Sanemi says, “that’s my mother singing.”

“She sounds amazing,” Giyuu says.

“Thanks,” Sanemi gives a small smile and wipes his forehead, accidentally leaving a smear of grease.

Giyuu giggles.

“What?”

“You have some,” Giyuu gestures to his forehead.

Sanemi looks at his reflection in one of the sleigh’s mirrors and scowls. When he tries to wipe it away, it only gets worse. Giyuu laughs louder.

“Get back to work,” Sanemi orders, ducking back behind the sleigh, tips of his ears turning red.

They resume their work. Every once in a while, a couple words or a hum slips out of Sanemi, joining in with his mother’s voice. It is awfully endearing and Giyuu smiles every time. Before either of them know it, the owner of the voice that serenaded them as they worked is at the barn door, telling them dinner is on the table.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Giyuu says, collecting his coat that he had draped over a hay bale.

“Oh, I set a plate for you too, Giyuu,” Shizu says with a warm smile, “it’s been a while since Sanemi has had a guest.”

Giyuu looks to Sanemi who looks away, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering, “I can drive you back to the inn afterwards.”

“Alright,” Giyuu says, absentmindedly wiping his hand on his jeans.

Dinner with the younger siblings is nothing short of chaotic. They have a million questions, where are you from? Why are you here? What is your favorite kind of Christmas cookie?

“I don’t have a favorite,” Giyuu says.

Sanemi’s younger sisters stare at him before gasping, “what do you mean you don’t have a favorite? You have to have a favorite otherwise you’ll be lost during cookie swaps!”

“I’ve never done those either,” Giyuu admits, “I don’t do a whole lot for Christmas.”

By their expressions, Giyuu has admitted to a terrible crime.

“What about hanging up lights? Big brother sometimes lets us climb the ladder to hang them up!”

“I live in an apartment so I don’t have lights either,” Giyuu says with a frown.

“Big brother, you have to help him, he needs Christmas!” the youngest cries with a hilariously dramatic gesture.

“Calm down, everyone celebrates differently,” Sanemi sighs, “why don’t you start getting ready for bed, I’ll do the dishes and make some hot chocolate.”

The table is cleared in the blink of an eye. As Sanemi whips up several mugs of chocolate, Giyuu gets the plates into the sink and begins scrubbing.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sanemi says, walking up next to him.

“It’s the least I can do,” Giyuu says, moving the dish out of Sanemi’s reach.

Sanemi concedes with a sigh and they fall into a quiet rhythm, Giyuu washing the dishes and passing them to Sanemi to dry.

“Your family is very nice,” Giyuu says after a few minutes of working in silence.

“Thanks,” Sanemi says. “And thanks for helping with the sleigh, it means a lot to all of us.”

“I can tell,” Giyuu murmurs, passing over the last plate.

“Let’s get you to the inn, it’ll be an early start tomorrow,” Sanemi says, wiping his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder.

Back in the car, Sanemi turns the keys in the ignition once, twice, only for the engine to sputter and refuse to start.

“Don’t do this to me,” Sanemi thumps a fist on the dashboard. “Twice in one day, I swear it’s not normally like this.”

“It’s fine, it’s been through a lot. Maybe there is someone else we can call?” Giyuu asks meekly.

“It’s late,” Sanemi sighs, “if you’re alright with it, just stay here.”

“I can’t impose.”

“Can’t walk home in the dark and snow either,” Sanemi counters, pulling the keys from the ignition and stepping out of the truck, “come on.”

Back inside the quiet house, coats hung and boots discarded, Sanemi pulls out several blankets from a linen closet and a quarter out of his pocket, “we’ll flip for who takes the couch and who takes my bed. If it’s heads, I win, if it’s tails, you lose.”

“Fine,” Giyuu says, trying not to yawn.

Sanemi flips the coin, it lands on tails, “enjoy the couch.”

“Goodnight,” Giyuu says, taking the blankets and arranging them in the living room.

“’Night,” Sanemi says and slips upstairs.

Ensconced in family quilts, Giyuu falls asleep to the sound of a ticking grandfather clock and wakes to someone poking his cheek with a slightly sticky finger.

“Ah!” Giyuu startles awake and winces as sunlight reflects off the snow outside the window and directly into his eyes.

“What are you doing here!” one of Sanemi’s younger brothers cries, pointing with the finger he used to wake Giyuu. In his other hand is a piece of half-eaten toast slathered in homemade jam.

“Hiroshi!” Genya hisses, marching over, “leave him alone! Sanemi said the truck was busted so they couldn’t go back to the inn last night.”

“It’s alright, just startled me,” Giyuu says, stretching, instinctually reaching to the side, searching for warmth-ah wait no he slept on a couch not in a bed.

“Can’t believe he made you sleep on the couch,” Genya shakes his head.

“We flipped a coin for it,” Giyuu shrugs.

Genya stares at him, “you flipped a coin?”

“Oh no,” Hiroshi giggles, “did he do his ‘heads, I win, tails, you lose’ trick?”

“What?” Giyuu asks, “how is that a trick? Those are the rules.”

“Think them through again, very slowly,” Genya says, “and if you want to yell at him, his bedroom is upstairs and to the left.”

Less than a minute later, Giyuu kicks open the door of Sanemi’s room, “you ass!”

A shirtless Sanemi steps out of his bathroom, toothbrush in mouth, staring with wide eyes, “wuh?”

“’Heads you win, and tails I lose?” Giyuu snarls, “you set me up to sleep on the couch no matter how the coin landed!”

Sanemi takes the toothbrush out of his mouth, grinning with perfectly white teeth, “took you long enough to figure it out.”

Giyuu follows him into his bathroom when he steps back inside to spit in the sink and wipe his face, chuckling the entire time.

“And here I thought you were being a fair host!” Giyuu snarls, stomping his foot.

“And I thought you were a good enough guest to know to knock,” Sanemi retorts.

Giyuu’s next words get caught in his throat as he stares at Sanemi’s large, muscular chest, thick arms and broad shoulders, the deep-V and happy tail poking out of his sweatpants slung low on his hips. Giyuu’s eyes fly back up to Sanemi’s and with a tight huff, he spins on his heel and speeds out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut as Sanemi chuckles behind him.

After breakfast, they are back to work in the barn, interrupted only by Geyna, Sumi, and Teiko bringing out a tray of cookies and insisting he try each one to determine a favorite. He keeps quiet about his teeth aching at the thought of so much sweetness and works his way through the samples before deciding on the spiced wafers as a dessert of choice.

After lunch, the hours slipping by in the blink of an eye, Sanemi’s brothers get tangled in Christmas lights and need freeing.

“Alright, now go play with something else,” Sanemi says, unwinding the last loop.

“You’re a good big brother,” Giyuu says as Hiroshi, Shuya, and Koto go running back into the house.

“Do you have older siblings?” Sanemi asks.

Giyuu stalls for a second, “I...have an older sister.”

“Why aren’t you spending Christmas with your family?” Sanemi asks, shoving the lights into the box.

Why isn’t he? Giyuu frowns, suddenly feeling confused.

“Sorry,” Sanemi cuts off his thoughts, “I should mind my own business, and you already said you were focused on your career.”

“Yeah,” Giyuu says vacantly thinking about his career, full of important papers and important meetings and pens and pencils and tracksuits and-

“-this afternoon I’ve been asked to help decorate for the parade,” Sanemi changes the subject, “it’s a fun time, everyone in town pitches in. You’re more than welcome to help.”

“I’d like that,” Giyuu realizes.

With the truck broken down, everyone piles into the Shinazugawa’s van, nicknamed Ol’ Trusty, for its age and reliability. They park on the edge of town and spill out, untangling scarves, hats, and mittens and heading to a crowded Main Street.

“Oh wow,” Giyuu says, seeing everyone shoveling snow, adding more decorations to the path, moving about in high spirits despite the skies darkening with the warning of more snow to come.

“Come on,” Sanemi says over his shoulder, “let’s find something your dainty city hands can do.”

Giyuu narrows his eyes but follows until they find some spare shovels and get to work. If Giyuu thought building the sleigh was difficult, getting the street ready for the parade is backbreaking. What is worse is that Sanemi quickly becomes more of a distraction as they go. For every shovel Giyuu takes, Sanemi does two with hardly breaking sweat, chuckling as Giyuu slides on the slippery pavement.

Not to be left behind, Giyuu redoubles his efforts until they are neck and neck. Neither of them announced it would be a competition but their own natures make it so until their section of the street is clear and all that is left to do is throw snow at each other.

“Ah!” Giyuu cries as a cold sphere bursts against his shoulder. Growling at Sanemi’s boyish grin, he quickly scoops up his own handful and hurls it, a direct shot to Sanemi’s forehead.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” Sanemi says and the battle is on.

The war wages between them, interspersed by maniacal laughter at the cold and shock of getting hit. The nostalgic childish fun is contagious and before either of them know it, the crowd has joined in and snow flies back and forth.

Giyuu and Sanemi draw closer and closer, not realizing they are standing on ice until they try to shove snow in each other’s faces and simultaneously slip.

“Oof!” Giyuu’s fall is luckily cushioned by Sanemi underneath him.

For a moment, Giyuu is frozen, staring into Sanemi’s deep purple eyes that sparkle under the lamplight.

“Are you alright?” Sanemi asks.

Giyuu can feel the vibration of the words in Sanemi’s chest and becomes aware of the hands on either side of his hips, holding him steady, just like they always do.

“Yes! Sorry!” Giyuu cries and rolls off Sanemi, furiously brushing from his clothes.

“Still haven’t gotten your ice-legs yet,” Sanemi sighs, standing up.

“That isn’t a real thing,” Giyuu frowns.

“Thanks to everyone who came out to help!” The mayor announces to the crowd, “see you all tomorrow night for the parade!”

Giyuu struggles to his feet, trying not to slip.

“Come on, it’s late,” Sanemi says and leads the way back to the family van for a weary drive back to the house.

Giyuu curls back up on the couch in his fleece pajamas and many layers of quilts.

“Goodnight,” Sanemi says from the doorway.

“Sleep well,” Giyuu says, rolling his eyes.

“I plan to,” Sanemi says. The smile on his face fades slightly, “there is still so much to do, and we need to get the sleigh done in time to get you to the lodge and back for the parade.”

“We can do it,” Giyuu says, hoping he sounds confident.

The smile returns to Sanemi’s face and he gives a single nod before disappearing from the doorway. Giyuu sits back in the pillows, unable to deny that the lights of the Christmas tree in the corner and the fire in the fireplace do make him feel warm and welcomed in a way he has never felt before. His apartment back in the city seems cold and unloving compared to this, a home belonging to total strangers.

“What are you doing!”

Giyuu looks up the next morning, brushing the bangs out of his face and looking up from where he works. Sanemi stands in the doorway with mismatched clothes and full bedhead, as if he just woke up. Giyuu cannot help but smile.

“Look who doesn’t know how to knock,” Giyuu says and then suddenly frowns: why would Sanemi knock? That line makes no sense.

“You’re up early,” Sanemi says walking into the barn.

“We’ve got a sleigh to finish,” Giyuu says.

Sanemi smiles, “we better get to work.”

Before their eyes, the sleigh completes its final transformation after the last finishing touches are placed, they step back to admire the vehicle. What was once splintered and warped is now smooth and strong. The sleigh proudly sits in the barn, polished brass shining in the light and red sides radiant.

Sanemi steps up and reverently places a hand on the front of the sleigh, his rough, calloused hands juxtaposing the pristine work.

He turns back around to face Giyuu, about to speak but something behind Giyuu catches his eye. The smile vanishes from his face and his words come out heavy.

“It’s sunset.”

Giyuu gasps and turns around, seeing the sun beginning to fall behind the mountains, the last rays of golden light slipping from the barn. They are out of time.

“Take it,” Sanemi says.

“What?”
“The sleigh,” Sanemi says, not meeting Giyuu’s eyes and looking at the ground, “take it. Get to the lodge, give your presentation, save your job.”

“Sanemi-”

“-go,” Sanemi cuts him off, “get dressed, I’ll hitch up the reindeer. Hurry.”

“Reindeer?” Giyuu looks around, there are reindeer?

“Don’t try and argue,” Sanemi says, “I’ll quickly fix up the truck and my brothers can decorate it with lights like they’ve always wanted to. We’ll use that to lead the parade.”

Heart in his throat, Giyuu goes back into the house. He puts on a suit that feels thin and cold and picks up the briefcases. He completely forgot to re-sort the papers, maybe he can find a spare second at the lodge. Shivering in his too-thin jacket and trying not to slide in his too-fancy shoes, Giyuu climbs into the seat of the sleigh and takes the reins from Sanemi.

Sanemi still won’t meet his eyes as he explains how to guide the eight reindeer shuffling and excitedly prancing in their harnesses adorned with bells. Giyuu looks up to see the younger Shinazugawa siblings staring from the window with mournful faces.

“Sanemi-”

“-Giyuu,” Sanemi looks up and their eyes meet. Sanemi smiles, “it’s okay. We’ll have the sleigh next year thanks to you. I told you before and I told you again, helping is what we do here.”

Giyuu bites his lip and sits back in the seat.

“Now go, you can do it,” Sanemi says and steps away.

Giyuu clicks the reins and the reindeer jump dash down the road, leaving the strangers Giyuu has come to love behind. The snowscape passes by in a blur as they climb up the mountainside, bells ringing into the night, wind rushing in Giyuu’s ears.

Terror grips Giyuu as they round a corner and the sleigh skids close to the edge of a cliff, snow and rocks tumbling down the chasm below. What is he doing? He’s never guided a sleigh before! Why couldn’t Sanemi have driven him? One wrong move and Giyuu won’t just destroy all their hard work, he’ll perish too!

The lodge appears before them, sticking out like an eyesore with its modern-chic-hunting-lodge architecture. With its LED-lit lanterns, gas powered torches, and its artificial garlands, it doesn’t come close to the authenticity of the entire town of Green Pines.

It takes a hefty bribe for valet parking to accept the sleigh.

“Not a scratch on it, understand?” Giyuu barks at the underpaid and overworked staff who not-so-subtly take selfies with the reindeer.

He sprints into the lobby and finds the staff holiday party in full swing. Giyuu weaves through the crowd, hearing the familiar voice of his boss loudly boasting with other suit-clad individuals.

“Giyuu!” his boss cries, clapping his hand on his shoulder, “have an eggnog!”

A glass is thrust under his nose as Giyuu sputters.

“Sir, I am so sorry I missed the train and couldn’t get another ride, I have your briefcase and mine, I can still do the presentation-”

“-I was just talking about profits with these fine folk, record breaking!” his boss beams, “tell me, what did you think of their ideas?”

“Sir?” Giyuu frowns, “I just got here-”

“-yes, yes, glad you could find me in the crowd of these fine individuals! My phone needs a charge, take care of it for me, will you? I got a portable charger but the useless thing died on me this morning,” his boss says.

Giyuu stares with his jaw dropped, “Sir, did you not notice I was gone?”

“Getting another slice of pumpkin pie? It’s good stuff!” his boss says, not understanding once again, “I could do with another slice when you have the chance.”

“Sir!”

“Chop-chop! Presentations are in ten minutes and I want to be able to take notes!” his boss swaps the outstretched glass of eggnog for his phone, shaking it for emphasis.

Giyuu juggles the briefcases and carefully takes the phone. He wanders aimlessly until he finds a lonely bar.

“Excuse me, do you have a phone charger I can borrow?” Giyuu asks the bartender and does a double take at the sight of her purple eyes.

“Will this one work?” the woman asks.

“Thank you,” Giyuu mutters numbly. He plugs his boss’s phone in and takes a seat in the stool.

“Can I get you anything else?” the woman asks, “it’s Christmas Eve and you look unhappy.”

“I’m fine,” Giyuu says, “I just need to collect my thoughts before the big show.”

The woman departs for a couple minutes before returning with a mug of hot chocolate and a spiced biscuit on a plate, “on the house.”

Giyuu takes a bite of the cookie, thinking of Sanemi’s younger siblings helping him find a favorite, of Sanemi making them all hot chocolate before bed, and the warmth and comfort they surrounded him with.

He shakes his head, he needs to focus! He needs to get his head on straight so he can nail the presentation. He opens both briefcases and begins sorting the papers into which belong to him and which are for his boss. Giyuu is so focused on organizing that he barely skims the content of the pages until he gets to the last page of his boss’s presentation where his ‘thank-yous’ are listed.

All of Giyuu’s colleagues are named with little notes for various contributions throughout the year. Giyuu doesn’t intend to snoop but, how can he not when he sees his name at the bottom of the list.

And to my assistant, Giyuu, thank you for making good coffee!

Frustration wells up in Giyuu, he does more than just make coffee! He is persistent, he is nice, he is organized, he is helpful!

His hands crinkle the paper as he grips in his fists. A year’s worth of work and his boss didn’t notice any of it, two days gone and his boss didn’t realize it, all his contributions to his soul-sucking job and all he gets is a thank-you for coffee? Giyuu looks over his shoulder as the veil falls from his eyes, everyone in the holiday party is wearing artificial smiles and contributing hollow nothings to a nothing company. Christmas Eve and instead of community and coming together, they are talking about profits and graphs!

He shouldn’t be here. There are people more deserving, more in need, of his help.

“Excuse me,” Giyuu gets the attention of the bartender.

“How can I help?” the woman asks with a sly smile, having watched the slow-motion revelation from the bar.

“Got any chocolate syrup?”

The woman passes over a bottle and her eyes widen as Giyuu proceeds to pour it over his stack of papers, soaking them through with chocolate.

“Oh my!”

“Thanks,” Giyuu says, shoving the sticky mess into his briefcase for his boss to find, “can I borrow a pen?”

The woman hands over a large marker and Giyuu proceeds to cross out the pitiful shoutout at the bottom of his boss’s list, re-writing in bold letters: MERRY CHRISTMAS. I QUIT.

“Thank you,” Giyuu says, handing the pen back, “I hope you get to celebrate with those you love when all this is over.”

“Not going to stay and watch his reaction?” the woman asks, a conspiratorial smile on her face as she delicately wipes up the evidence on the bar.

“No,” Giyuu says, taking his boss’s phone and dunking it in his mug, “I’ve got a parade to get to.”

“Dash!” Giyuu orders the reindeer, racing down the mountain at breakneck speed, “dash!”

Saying a prayer that they don’t go careening over the edge and that they make it in time, Giyuu and the reindeer swerve around corners and leap over fields of snow. The town of Green Pines comes into view, light up and sparkling in the dark. A familiar house and barn come into view. Giyuu can make out the pickup truck with its hood open, Sanemi elbow deep in the engine while his family watches with frowns on their faces.

At the sound of bells and hoofbeats, Koto turns and his face lights up, “Giyuu is back!”

“What?” Sanemi pops up from under the hood, jaw dropped as Giyuu arcs the sleigh around, bringing it to a stop. “What are you doing here? Your presentation! Your job!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Giyuu says, “not as much as this. You told me, helping others is how things are done in Green Pines and it is a great place to spend Christmas.”

“Giyuu,” Sanemi says, awestruck.

“Come on,” Giyuu slides over and holds out the reins, “you’ve got a parade to lead.”

Sanemi takes the reins and jumps up into the sleigh, grabbing Giyuu in a bear hug.

“Thank you,” Sanemi says.

“Merry Christmas,” Giyuu says, hugging him back.

“Well,” Sanemi turns back to his siblings and his mother, “you heard him, let’s go!”

The entire town of Green Pines when they catch sight of the Shinazugawa sleigh and the sound of the bells. Giyuu smiles so much it hurts as he, Shizu and the younger siblings, dressed in red and green striped Christmas sweaters, wave and hand out candies to the crowd. Giyuu spares a moment to turn and watch Sanemi, wearing a thick red coat, as he drives the sleigh. Sanemi, sensing Giyuu’s gaze, turns around, beaming from ear to ear.

The parade goes down Main Street, stopping in front of the town hall lit up with hundreds of lights. Sanemi parks the sleigh and the town gathers to have one giant celebration. Giyuu laughs and smiles more than he has all year as they party the night away. At some point, Sanemi finds him in the crowd and with a bashful expression, invites him to dance in front of the massive Christmas tree in the square.

Giyuu proves himself not much of a dancer and so they instead take a walk around the outskirts. As they walk, Sanemi cautiously takes Giyuu’s hand in his. Giyuu’s heart flutters but he doesn’t pull away.

“Look,” Giyuu says as the most delicate snowflakes begin to fall from the sky like little pieces of starlight, “it’s beautiful.”

“It’s just snow,” Sanemi says.

“There is nothing like this in the city,” Giyuu says.

“Giyuu,” Sanemi says, stopping and taking his other hand, looking deeply into his eyes, “I-I know we’ve only known each other for a couple days but, you are not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

Giyuu’s breath catches in his throat.

“You are… incredible,” Sanemi says, “the city doesn’t appreciate you. Your job doesn’t value you.”

“Sanemi,” Giyuu whispers.

“You could stay,” Sanemi says tentatively, “you fit in here, everyone loves you, I…” he looks away, ears turning red.

He could stay, in a matter of days he has felt a stronger sense of belonging than he ever felt in the city. Doubt circles, it would be such a big change though. He just quit his job so he would need to find another, if he moves here it would likely have to be remote work. And then there is the matter of his sister and his family and his school-

-his school?

Giyuu frowns as his head begins to spin.

“I love you,” Sanemi says.

Huh? Giyuu’s mind reels, they’ve only known each other for two days! Sanemi didn’t say he loved Giyuu until-

Sanemi leans in, pressing his forehead to Giyuu’s and Giyuu freezes back, something is wrong, this isn’t right. This isn’t how-

Sanemi’s lips ghost across Giyuu’s and -and it’s not Sanemi!

“No!” Giyuu screams, jumping back.

“What’s wrong?” A hunky standard-issue, dime-a-dozen, beard-clad lumberjack asks.

“You’re not Sanemi,” Giyuu gasps, looking at the face-shaped face and uncreative character design, “where is he?”

“You belong here,” the man grips tighter when Giyuu tries to pull his hands out of his grasp.

“No! Let go of me!” Giyuu screams, yanking his hands free.

“Giyuu, wait!”

Giyuu turns and runs, dashing into the nearby forest, racing through the trees. The man pursues him, calling to him, trying to grab him.

“No, no!” Giyuu cries, “Sanemi help me!”

“Hey!”

Hands grab his shoulders, Giyuu fights to get away but ends up tangled in the bedsheets, screaming and flailing until familiar hands roll him onto his back and shake the sleep out of him.

“Giyuu!” Sanemi says, eyes wide, “hey, you’re okay, I’m here.”

Giyuu, heart racing a mile a minute, blinks and looks around wildly, taking in the familiar room around him. He looks back to Sanemi and, seeing that it’s really him, crumples against his chest with a sob.

“I-I had a bad dream!” Giyuu cries.

“Oh no,” Sanemi pulls Giyuu into an embrace, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down his back.

Giyuu twists and plays with the engagement ring on his finger.

“Wedding planning stress getting to you?” Sanemi asks in a soothing timbre, “did you dream of someone messing with stuff again?”

“No,” Giyuu says, wiping his eyes, “I-I couldn’t find you and w-was trapped.”

“Trapped?”

Instead of calm, frustration wells in Giyuu and instead of whispering, he shrieks, “yes! Trapped in a goddamn Hallmark movie!”

Sanemi stiffens, “whu-what?”

“It was based off of that stupid one you made me watch last week!” Giyuu yells, fighting out of Sanemi’s arms and shoving him. “It was-hey- don’t laugh!”

Sanemi’s low chuckle has evolved into loud cackles that he fails to suppress. Giyuu launches into a retelling of his dream but this does nothing to curb Sanemi’s habit of finding humor in Giyuu’s suffering.

“My boss sucked, I was late for everything, everyone kept trying to get me to drink eggnog, your siblings made me eat dozens of super sweet cookies, I had to drive a sleigh up a mountainside, -stop laughing!” Giyuu yells, hitting Sanemi with his pillow.

Sanemi, having turned onto his stomach in an effort to hide his reaction, howls into his pillow and beats his fist against the mattress. Giyuu grabs a handful of his hair and yanks his head up, seeing Sanemi is only a few peels away from crying with laughter.

“And you!” Giyuu yells, “you were the worst!”

That gets Sanemi to stop for a moment, wiping his eyes and looking up with a confused expression.

“You never helped me!” Giyuu cried, “just like in the shitty movie that was supposed to be about helping but the lumberjack never actually helped the love interest! You helped everyone else but you never helped me!”

“Bad Dream-Sanemi,” Sanemi chastises.

“You left me when I needed help! You made me sleep on an uncomfortable couch, didn’t help me up when I fell on ice, and made me figure everything out myself!” Giyuu turns away from Sanemi and rubs his temples, “it was so annoying and aggravating!”

“I’m sorry,” Sanemi says. He reaches around Giyuu to his beside table, flicking on the lamp and picking up his glass of water.

“Don’t,” Giyuu shakes his head after chugging down several gulps. He sighs and sets the glass back on his coaster, “you’re right, it was just a bad dream about an even worse movie. And you’re right to laugh, there were so many dumb plot holes in the dream itself. Tengen knitted sweaters for a living and I somehow knew how to drive a sleigh.”

Sanemi threads their fingers together, fiddling with the engagement ring he gifted Giyuu last year. Giyuu suspects Sanemi has hidden the button somewhere while they were decorating.

“Do you feel like I’m not helping enough with the wedding planning?” Sanemi suddenly asks.

“What?” Giyuu says, “no, everything is going smoothly.”

“Still, let me take the next call from our planer,” Sanemi says, tucking some stray bangs out of Giyuu’s face, “you’ve got a lot on your plate with training your students for the reindeer run, getting pulled to coordinate the staff holiday party with Tengen, and working with the baseball team.”

“But I-”

“-no buts except this one” Sanemi says, reaching and giving Giyuu’s ass a playful squeeze.

“Fine,” Giyuu says.

Sanemi glances at the clock and then goes back to Giyuu. A playful expression crosses his face, “since I was so bad at helping in your dream, how about I make it up to you? Start this morning right.”

Giyuu huffs, noticing that it is still dark outside, although, with it being winter, it could be morning for all he knows. These musings are pushed aside as Sanemi slides close and kisses his cheek, moving down to his jaw and nosing Giyuu’s head back so he can get to his neck.

“Hmm,” Giyuu sighs as Sanemi, his fiance, crowds him.

“I’ll help you chase that bad dream away,” Sanemi says, lips tickling just under his ear. His warm hand traces along the gap between Giyuu’s shirt and pajama pants, two fingers slipping playfully under the waistband.

Goosebumps break out along Giyuu’s skin at the tender touch and he turns to kiss Sanemi on the mouth. Sanemi’s hand continues to Giyuu’s hip, tugging and rolling him onto his side before swooping down the curve of his ass and grabbing under his leg to pull it over his own hip.

“Hmm? That something you’d be up for?” Sanemi asks, pushing a thigh between Giyuu’s legs. He grins when Giyuu immediately grinds down, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

In the lazy hours of the morning, Sanemi gets to work, kissing Giyuu deeply, licking into his mouth and nipping at his lip, slowly working him up in his arms. Little moans and hums spill from Giyuu as he continues to hump Sanemi’s leg. Fuck, Sanemi knows how to angle it just right so Giyuu can gradually drive himself mad.

One hand comes around Giyuu’s back, cupping his head and curling his fingers in his hair. He carefully nudges Giyuu this way and that to continue the heated, incessant kisses. The other hand, previously around Giyuu’s thigh, decides that being on the outside of his pajama pants is unacceptable and tracks back up to slip under the flannel. The hand, confronted with the smooth round of Giyuu’s ass, promptly stalls and instead of going back down to the thigh, decides to remain there, kneading the skin and muscle. Giyuu moans, following the encouragement of the hand to roll his hips in faster, bigger circles.

His pussy grows warm, Giyuu isn’t sure if it's the friction of his movements or his own body heat rushing downwards. Sanemi’s fingers, always curious, continue their downward trend until they can poke curiously between his legs. Giyuu’s entire chest rumbles as Sanemi hums with satisfaction at the warm wetness he finds soaking the fabric.

Sanemi holds Giyuu tight and rolls onto his back, pulling Giyuu over him to straddle his hips, rocking up so his hardening cock bumps against his folds and nudges his sensitive clit. Giyuu sighs, gripping Sanemi’s shoulders and dragging his hips and down over the clothed erection. Sanemi moans and lets go of the back of Giyuu’s head, nudging him to sit up and circling his hands around Giyuu’s waist.

“What do you want?” Sanemi asks with a loving smile, “name it and I’ll do it, you won’t have to lift a finger. Anything and everything is on the menu, I’m here to serve you.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Giyuu smiles back, eyes fluttering shut as his rolling hips make Sanemi’s cock hit his clit again.

“How does this sound,” Sanemi says, a grin spreading across his face, “you keep an open mind and I fuck it empty?”

“I like the sound of that,” Giyuu says and less than a second after the words have left his mouth, the room spins as Sanemi grabs him and flips their positions, “oh!”

Giyuu’s pajamas are tugged away in record time, cast to the far off reaches of their bedroom. His legs are thrown apart and he squeaks in surprise as Sanemi grabs each thigh and hauls his pelvis into his lap. His legs jump and twitch as Sanemi brings both hands to his pussy, fingers gently spreading his outer folds and dipping in to play with the wetness.

Giyuu claps a hand over his mouth but Sanemi clicks his tongue, “now-now, don’t cover up those noises, how will I know if I’m doing a good job?”

Giyuu removes his hands, opting instead to grab handfuls of the sheets as Sanemi begins to pet between his legs. His purple eyes dance with anticipation, locked on Giyuu’s face to gauge his every reaction. One hand begins to circle his clit, rubbing over the bud in an unpredictable pattern. The other breaches his entrance with two dextrous fingers, sliding in and spreading out to find Giyuu’s g-spot.

Giyuu’s chest shakes with little moans and grows flushed as Sanemi begins to massage that sweet spot in tandem with his clit. His grip twists the sheets and his eyes squeeze shut as Sanemi’s hands begin moving faster, applying more pressure to his bud and slipping a third finger inside to join the others.

“Umh, ah,” Giyuu gasps, legs jerking and toes curling as Sanemi keeps working him higher and higher.

“That’s it,” Sanemi’s voice comes out thick and gravelly, “you just relax and let me do all the work. It’s a reward for me too, you know, watching you react as I do things like this.”

Giyuu yelps as his clit suddenly sings with sensation, he cannot see what Sanemi is doing but, god, it feels so good especially when combined with the way his fingers inside drum over his sweet-spot.

“Like that?” Sanemi asks, grinning because he already knows the answer.

Giyuu doesn’t trust his voice not to crack. Instead he releases the sheets and his hands fly to his breasts, groping the small mounds and playing with his nipples.

“Yeah baby, make yourself feel good. Fuck, I wish I had more arms,” Sanemi says huskily.

Giyuu cannot stop himself from squirming as Sanemi continues to press every button that has him hurtling towards his climax. No matter how his hips jump and roll, Sanemi’s hands stay on him. One hand is normally plenty, two is proving devastating. There is no escape and soon Giyuu is whimpering and gasping.

“Come on, soak my hands,” Sanemi says, upping the pace until it hits that perfect rhythm and Giyuu enters the homestretch.

“Aah,” he clenches down on Sanemi’s fingers as his body hits the point of no return and launches him through a strong orgasm. He moans as Sanemi works him though wave after wave of pleasure that rushes through his pelvis.

“There we go,” Sanemi murmurs above the wet squelches coming from Giyuu’s drenched cunt. He slows the pace of his hands, gradually helping Giyuu back down from his high, “feel good?”

“Yes,” Giyuu sighs, entire chest deflating with relief.

“You were really wound up,” Sanemi observes, sitting back and patting Giyuu’s thigh with a damp hand. He smiles again, “want more?”

Giyuu bounces his feet, thinking for a second before smiling, “if the chef is offering a second course, I’ll imbibe.”

“Excellent,” Sanemi says, nudging Giyuu’s hips out of his lap and diving back up to kiss him, “just answer this question, want me to make you cry?”

“You said to keep and open mind and that you’d fuck it empty, that includes tears.”

“I fucking love you,” Sanemi snarls and kicks his pants off. His cock springs free, fully hard and dripping precum, “get up here.”

Sanemi roughly manhandles Giyuu upright and turns him around. Giyuu goes to arrange himself on his hands and knees but Sanemi grabs him again, snarling in his ear.

“No,” Sanemi pulls him into his lap again, yanking him back against his chest and spreading his thighs. The head of his cock teases at Giyuu’s entrance with all the jostling, catching as Sanemi hisses in his ear, “I said I’d do everything, right? So you just relax back against me and take what I give you.”

Giyuu moans as, on the last word, Sanemi snaps his hips up and thrusts all the way into Giyuu’s pussy. Sanemi keeps his strong arms around Giyuu, holding him upright and in place as he pistons into him. Giyuu head rolls back to rest on Sanemi’s shoulder as the position stretches him differently from Sanemi’s hands and his cock drives in deep.

“Ohgod,” Giyuu can feel his head emptying with every snap, rolls his own hips down to meet Sanemi’s and his eyes nearly roll out of his head, “Sanemi!”

“That’s it, take what you want,” Sanemi hisses in his ear as Giyuu begins to roll his hips down faster and his moans get louder, “this is all for you.”

Giyuu is not going to last much longer, already sensitive from the first round, his climax stalks closer and closer.

“Let me take care of these now,” Sanemi grunts, adjusting his grip so that his hands can each grab a breast.

Giyuu screams and bucks as experienced fingers begin to twist and pluck. Once again, even as he thrashes and moves, Sanemi stays with him. A confident grip, a furnace against his back, a loving voice speaking love with every other breath, Giyuu is reminded that Sanemi is with him, he’s got him, and he’s not going anywhere.

“Trade off,” Sanemi orders, “put your hands on yourself, make yourself feel even better.”

With a sob, Giyuu reaches down. Behind him Sanemi groans as his trembling fingers reach and feel where their bodies are connected. The steady roll of slick down the inside of his thighs becomes a tidal wave when Giyuu swirls over his already sensitive clit.

“Ahhh, ahh, ahh!”

The climax that was circling like a shark comes rushing up and rips through Giyuu. He arches as Sanemi fucks him through it, not slowing down like he did the last time but instead pushing him to the point of overstimulation.

“Sanemi, Sanemi!” Giyuu gasps, squirming and realizing that he is still hard.

Sanemi pulls out and spins him around so they are chest to chest and immediately slides back inside.

“Still wanna cry?” Sanemi asks, pulling Giyuu close.

Giyuu can only nod, words becoming more effort than they’re worth. This last round will do him in but in Sanemi’s arms, he knows that there is nothing to worry about.

“Hold on baby,” Sanemi says and starts thrusting again.

Giyuu cannot hold on, he quickly goes limp in Sanemi’s grasp, wailing as Sanemi bounces him on his cock. Without a break, the overstimulation floods up and leaves every nerve begging for mercy; something Giyuu doesn’t have an appetite for when it comes to Sanemi. Completely on Sanemi’s strength, Giyuu lets his own mind slip away, thrust by thrust until his head is empty and the tears come.

He sobs as Sanemi slams against his sweet spot with lethal accuracy, hands holding him secure under the onslaught of his thrusts. Giyuu takes in everything Sanemi gives, from the absolute pounding into his cunt, to the needy whines and grunts as Sanemi approaches his own climax.

“I-I’m close,” Sanemi groans and Giyuu nods frantically as he begins to climb that peak for the third time.

One of Sanemi’s hands comes up to the back of Giyuu’s neck, fingers splaying around to rest over the pulse points on either side. Giyuu gasps and Sanemi goes in for the kill: pressing down on either side.

The world whites out as Giyuu cums again, back arching and eyes rolling back into his head. Sanemi shouts and snaps his hips one final time before hot cum floods Giyuu’s pussy. Giyuu presses his face to Sanemi’s chest, his tears smearing and rolling down the warm skin. He can hear Sanemi’s heart hammering in his chest. It sounds like any other heartbeat but it brings tremendous comfort to Giyuu knowing this one is his, the sound of the love of his life.

“Let it all out, love,” Sanemi says, breathless himself, he gently sits back to wipe the tears from Giyuu’s cheeks and chuckles, “damn, you drooled too.”

Giyuu laughs, bringing a hand up to the side of his mouth to confirm.

Sanemi carefully slips out of Giyuu, sighing at the sight of his cum flowing out shortly after, “god I love IUDs.”

“There is probably a porno called White Christmas,” Giyuu mutters.

Sanemi snickers, “if there is, would you wanna watch it instead of a Hallmark movie next time?”

“I’d even watch paint dry before another one of those films,” Giyuu says.

Sanemi sighs, “maybe we’ll just have to make our own.”

“A porno?”

“A Hallmark movie!” Sanemi cries, laughing. “But enough of those, the next order of business is a hot bath.”

Sanemi sweeps Giyuu up off the bed, carrying him towards their bathroom.

“I think I can walk,” Giyuu says, flexing his feet.

“Nope,” Sanemi says, “today I’m making up for all the help dream-me did not do. I do everything for you.”

“If you insist,” Giyuu sighs.

“It's more than insisting,” Sanemi says, coming in for another kiss, “it’s because I love you.”

Giyuu looks up into his warm purple eyes, melts in the comfort of his arms, the familiarity and adoration built over the years. This is something that cannot be replicated or condensed into the span of a two hour movie. No matter how well written or aesthetically crafted, nothing comes close to genuine love.

“I love you.”