No Need For A MistletoeChapter(s):
1/1Author: xxshamisen Genre:
Shortness, language, use of 'real' namesPairing:
Everything written here came from my imagination. Plus I don't own any of the boys
though I wish I did xD
Aoi wished he also had a mistletoe.Comments:
Finished this HOURS ago, but due to the crappy internet, I'm only posting it now. Plus it's some kind of apology for not updating for the last few days, but really, I WILL update once I get home (I have a oneshot on prostitutes as well The Smile~). Sorry about the delay~ >_<;; And Merry Christmas to all~ <3
Not under a cut because internet's crappy like that. >>;;
One of the reasons why Aoi doesn’t come often to his parent’s house during the holidays was because every time that he did, he won’t want to leave. Being pampered and surrounded by old friends and lovely relatives was certainly something a person like him wouldn’t want to give up, but of course, that’s at the expense of his band mates, his fans, and his dreams and his family’s dreams for him. He doesn’t belong to himself anymore, he couldn’t possibly be selfish at this stage. So it was better if he stayed at his Tokyo home, watching infomercials, Christmas carols, sappy romance stories TV stations loved to show during the season.
There he was, lying sideways on his couch, eyes glued on the television because there wasn’t much to look at on his dark living room. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Aoi’s actually a hopeless romantic. Every time there was a cheesy line uttered somewhere in the movie, he’d clutch the throw pillow near to his chest or smother his lips with it, just like a giddy little school girl. And somewhere along the silly gesture, he’d wish it was Uruha in his arms.
And then his thoughts would drift to the day that his life took a giant turn. It was an unrealistic movie in itself, really, with the snow falling on them as they kissed in the middle of the street, no less. It was so romantic he couldn’t even believe it all happened, considering his timidity towards Uruha and Uruha’s indifference when it comes to matters of the heart. It had taken him – it had taken them
a long time before coming to that point, and there was never a day in Aoi’s life that he never thanked the heavens after that. Even if Uruha wasn’t beside him right now, since the blond insisted that he won’t do what normal cheesy couples do on Christmas. The dark haired guitarist had to chuckle at the thought; even though Uruha was a live wire at times, he never really did ‘expressing himself’ very well.
Although Aoi was alone with only his ideas and memories, he wasn’t lonely. Knowing that Uruha had finally chosen to be his (as he had been Uruha’s for a long time) was enough to dispel notions of loneliness, and instead do that cute little ‘Yes!’ pose in his heart.
Aoi yawned. The last thing that he saw was the movie’s couple kissing under a mistletoe and wished he also had a mistletoe before falling into a peaceful sleep.
The guitarist shuffled in the couch, his nap disturbed by the sudden noise that came from where he guessed was the kitchen. A bit disgruntled, Aoi sat up promptly then noticed a blanket fall from his shoulder. For a moment he was puzzled, but realized what was happening and a smile spread over his full lips.
“Shit,” a voice muttered in the distance, and a form emerged from inside the kitchen. Auburn eyes looked around the living room, finding Aoi sitting up on the couch with a really stupid smile all over his face. “Sorry I woke you up.”
Holding two cups of steaming hot chocolate in his hands Uruha made his way to the couch, his face obviously showing how disappointed he was in himself. Aoi then reached for the cups and set them down on the coffee table, and immediately pulled Uruha down on the couch as well. “No worries baby,” he assured, smiling even more when he noticed a small blush creep up the blond’s cheek. “I thought you didn’t want to spend this year’s Christmas with me.”
Uruha’s brows furrowed as he gave a light punch on Aoi’s shoulder. “You make me sound like the bad guy,” he retorted, moving a bit closer to the brunet. “Besides, there was nothing good on TV.”
“So you came here even if you’re gonna see the same crappy shows anyway?” Aoi then put his arms over the blond’s shoulder, and felt him shift a bit under his touch.
“Something like that,” Uruha answered, reaching for one of the cups on the table though he didn’t drink on it, just more or less an excuse to get out of the older man’s hold. There was a long silence before Aoi took his cup and sipped on it.
“It’s sweet,” he commented, setting the cup back down on the table. It wasn’t just sweet actually; it was just like drinking hot sugar syrup. So much for the clattering noises in his kitchen, and it wasn’t even a decent drink. He wasn’t one to complain, though.
Uruha frowned and sipped on his hot chocolate as well, his face priceless upon finally tasting his own work. Aoi laughed slightly and took the cup to set it away before the blond got to throw it away. Well he probably won’t but he looked like he was going to. The younger man was about to scream some more profanities but Aoi came into view, face ever so close that he could feel his warm, inviting breath.
“Not as sweet as you though,” Aoi smiled as he pressed their foreheads, tracing the blond’s cheek lovingly with a lithe finger. “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”
“No problem,” Uruha breathed as his cheeks flushed, brushing his plump lips against the other’s pierced own with a smile.
Aoi kept the kiss chaste as long as he could, but in the end he couldn’t help but to swipe his tongue along the outline of the blond’s heavenly lips, seeking entrance. Sighing deeply, Uruha parted his mouth, engaging their tongues in a passionate dance that seemed to last forever. Gently, Aoi pressed Uruha back against the couch, still lost in the feeling, the sweetness, and the closeness.
It was only when the need of air emerged did Aoi pull back, looking down on his Uruha ever so adoringly. With a smile, he brushed away the strands of blond away from the other’s eyes, and gave his forehead a light kiss as the grandfather clock struck twelve. “Merry Christmas, Kou-chan.”
Uruha returned the smile and circled his arms around the brunet’s neck, drawing him closer. “Merry Christmas, Yuu.”
Perhaps they really didn’t need a mistletoe after all.