Chapter Text
"Time to pick your lots for round 5, everyone!" Tatara called out. He tried very hard not to giggle as Akiyama, who was currently walking circles around the bar upside down on his hands, walked over to him.
"I thought Christmas was supposed to be a time of joy and happiness," Akiyama said mournfully, from his upside down position as he did a handstand against the wall to rest, panting slightly. Tatara obligingly tucked a lot into the other man's belt. "Not a time of humiliation and suffering."
Beside him, Benzai glumly continued to turn cartwheels across the room. Fuse looked like he was about to die from the strain of having to keep his body in an upside down bridge position, body shaking so hard it looked like he might collapse at any moment. Next to him, Enomoto was sitting cross legged and had hoisted his body off the floor by pushing against the floor with his palms. He began to walk on his hands towards Tatara, body swinging and arms trembling with every hand-step.
"Well, I'm toooooootally feeling tons of joy and happiness looking at all of you," Doumyouji cackled from his safe spot in one of the dining booths next to the fish tanks as he looked at his comrades with undisguised glee in his eyes. Hidaka, who was in the midst of hopping his way to Tatara while doing burpees, paused for a moment to turn around to give Doumyouji the middle finger, too exhausted to even shoot back a verbal retort. Gotoh remained as silent as usual, but the stone-faced expression on his face as he held himself up in a side plank with his arm stretched up towards the ceiling seemed almost reproachful as he stared at Doumyouji.
"I wouldn't exactly call "schadenfreude" a measure of true happiness," Enomoto called out tartly to Doumyouji from where he was sta(han)ding next to Tatara, a rare note of bitterness in the normally timid man's voice. He looked up at the blonde-haired HOMRA member helplessly, trying to figure out how he was going to manage balancing on one hand while reaching out with his other hand to pick a lot from the can without toppling over. Taking pity on him, Tatara picked a lot from the can and placed it between his teeth, making sure to keep the end with the number printed on it the furthest from Enomoto's mouth so that he could see what was written on it, which the bespectacled man dutifully did, his eyes crossing from the effort.
"Oh I dunno, this happiness I'm feeling certainly feels genuine enough to me," Doumyouji replied brightly, still grinning evilly as he handed out glasses of eggnog to the people sitting near him, having been tasked to help distribute drinks while his colleagues were currently incapacitated.
Fuse had somehow managed to scuttle over to Tatara while maintaining his body bridge position, and was precariously balanced on three limbs as he raised one leg towards the can that Tatara was holding, pointing his toes forward so that the top of his boot formed a flat platform upon which Tatara could balance a lot. He groaned in pain as he lowered his leg and raised his head slightly to read the number printed on it, his neck straining. His face was turning so red it looked like he was about to explode.
After everyone had drawn their lots and the boys in blue could finally collapse on the floor to rest and catch their breaths, it was time for the next round of the King game.
"6 and 19!" called out Fujishima, the King for the current round.
There was a high-pitched squeal of delight and as everyone turned to look at the source of the sound, Ayumi had pounced on Kamamoto and had dragged him under the mistletoe and was enthusiastically peppering his face with kisses as he tried to fend her off, protesting in vain that this wasn't appropriate behaviour for people who were "just childhood friends".
"Is it just me or has the temperature in the room just gone up?" Shiro murmured to Klaudia, who giggled as some of the HOMRA members, particularly Bandou, literally burned with jealousy, creating heat waves around them with their angry auras.
"Um... 10 and 18 please," Yayoi said softly, when she was picked to be the next King.
"That's me!" Chitose shot up from his seat, crowing in delight as he twirled around to look at the ladies gathered near the bar. "Which of you beautiful ladies will be offering me their delightful assistance tonight?" Before any of them could respond, he suddenly felt a slight tug on the back of his jacket. Whirling around in anticipation, he was momentarily puzzled as he didn't see anyone behind him. However, another tug at his sleeve caused him to look down and his gaze fell upon a little girl dressed in red.
"Chitose, I picked 18," Anna said quietly, eyes sparkling innocently in anticipation as she looked up at him. Chitose's jaw dropped.
Immediately, there was a huge uproar in the bar as the other HOMRA ABC boys surged up as one and immediately lunged towards Chitose. Akagi gently detached Anna's hand from Chitose's sleeve before Misaki grabbed Chitose in a violent chokehold around his neck and dragged him far away from HOMRA's princess.
"Mi, sa, ki, I, ca, n't, bre, athe," Chitose wheezed, frantically slapping at Misaki's arm as he was forcibly pulled to the other side of the bar.
"Tatara, what's wrong?" Anna's head tilted to the side in mild confusion. "Why are the others yelling at Chitose?"
"It's okay Anna, you don't have to know," Tatara said soothingly, patting her on the head. "Let them sort things out themselves."
"You're going to pick the penalty option or so help us, all of us here are going to break every single perverted bone in your body," Misaki hissed at Chitose, although due to the fact that Misaki never really had a good understanding of what the term "volume control" entailed, he was practically shouting in the other man's ear.
"Why aren't you saying anything!?" Misaki demanded as Chitose remained silent, face turning red as he struggled to breathe.
"Uh, Yata-san, I think Chitose-san can't reply, let alone breathe, with your arm cutting off his air supply," Kamamoto pointed out. Chitose's face had almost turned purple at this point.
"Oh," Misaki said, blinking in surprise momentarily. Then he let go and Chitose fell to the floor, gasping as he sucked in huge breathfuls of air. Dewa crouched down next to him and sympathetically patted his arm. Once Chitose had recovered, he turned balefully on Misaki and said, "Are you crazy!? You nearly killed me! And of course I was planning to choose the penalty option! You don't genuinely believe that I would kiss a minor, do you?" His question was met with silence from the other HOMRA boys and a stony glare from Misaki, which Chitose returned with an injured look of his own. Huffing in annoyance, he stood up and smoothed out his jacket which had been messed up due to the manhandling, and turned to Yayoi. "Penalty, please," he sniffed haughtily, throwing another hurt look at Misaki, the very picture of a man who had been publicly wronged.
The penalty that Yayoi picked was for Chitose and Anna to do the rabbit dance, which involved them both making rabbit ears by placing their extended fingers against their heads and hopping around the room while making plenty of "pyon! pyon! pyon!" sounds in sing-song voices. Chitose looked like he was about to die from embarrassment, but Anna seemed to be enjoying herself as she bounced around, her sparkling eyes making a delightful contrast with her usual expressionless face. This resulted in at least half of the people in the bar clutching their hearts and declaring that they were dying of a sugar overdose.
For the next round, King Zenjou ended up picking 16 and 3, which turned out to be Awashima and Kusanagi respectively.
"Come on, Seri-chan," Kusanagi said with a rakish grin, beckoning towards Sceptre 4's second-in-command as he walked over to stand under the mistletoe. "How 'bout we indulge these young 'uns a little and give 'em some of that entertainment that they're looking for?"
Awashima stared back at him coolly with a glacial gaze that reminded Kusanagi exactly why he had nicknamed her "Tundra Woman".
Kusanagi gulped, and began to back away nervously as Awashima's hand seemed to drift slowly toward the sword hanging from her hip.
"... Hm. Well, I do hate to lose," was the last thing he heard before he suddenly felt a forceful yank on his neckscarf and found himself being pulled forward. Before he could get a grasp of what was going on, he suddenly felt warm lips pressing against his.
So soft, the thought flitted across his mind. Instinctively, he could feel himself leaning into the kiss, his lips parting naturally as her tongue flicked against his lips and made its way into his pliant mouth. Kusanagi was proud of the fact that he had kissed many women in his life, all of whom had praised his superior skills, but this was the first time when he felt like he was the one being ravaged rather than than the one doing the ravaging.
Before he could fully wrap his head around what was happening, he was abruptly released and he found himself stumbling backwards into Kamamoto's waiting arms as the other man struggled to steady him without both of them toppling over.
Mind frozen, he stared at Awashima. The corner of her mouth curled up almost devilishly, before she turned around without saying anything and walked back to the bar and picked up her anko martini, sipping it as if she hadn't just kissed HOMRA's self-professed ladies' man into oblivion.
"All right, next up," Chitose said, clapping his hands, breaking the stupefied silence that had fallen over the bar, particularly in the area where the Sceptre 4 boys were sitting, their jaws still resting on the ground. Kusanagi felt like he was about to faint from shock, not really sure if what he had just experienced was really real. He stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed next to Mikoto, who appeared to still be slumbering, although the Red King's body seemed to shift almost imperceptibly to give Kusanagi more space on the sofa. Kusanagi covered his face with his hands. Tatara, who was standing by the sofa, reached over and patted Kusanagi on the head comfortingly.
"I'd like to pick 13 and 23 please," King Klaudia announced in her sweet, clear voice.
Almost in sync, Fujishima and Eric stepped forward, making their way to the mistletoe.
"Ooooooooo, go you, cassanova," Misaki jeered at Eric.
"Shut up, you damn chihuahua," Eric retorted, glaring back at him. He walked closer towards Fujishima as the other man stood in place, staring back impassively, although if one looked closer they would have been able to detect a faint trace of what seemed like nervousness or anticipation in his eyes. In the background, the HOMRA ABC boys continued to cheer and let out wolf whistles.
"PUT THOSE SMARTASS TONGUE MUSCLES OF YOURS TO GOOD USE!" Bandou yelled, before he was quickly shushed by Akagi.
Ignoring the ruckus, Eric reached a hand towards Fujishima's face, grasping him gently by the jaw. Then, turning the other man's face to the side, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on his left cheek. Fujishima twitched slightly and inhaled sharply, although the sound he made was too soft to be heard by anyone else aside from the two of them.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Bandou yelled, outraged, while the other boys nodded vigorously. "That doesn't count! You have to do it on the lips!"
"I don't recall there being any rule that said the kiss has to be on the mouth," Eric said coolly, brushing off the protests. He looked over at Tatara for confirmation, and the HOMRA executive nodded. Eric and Fujishima walked back to their corner of the bar where the other HOMRA members continued to make aggrieved noises. Klaudia looked over at them and giggled to herself. Despite Eric's cool look and Fujishima's placid face, the tips of both men's ears were red, a fact which none of the other HOMRA members noticed. Dewa, unlike the other jeering boys, actually slapped Eric on the back and gave him a look of mixed envy and admiration. This earned him a return jab to his ribs from Eric.
"That's true. Ichigen-sama did kiss Kuroh on the forehead after all," Kusanagi said, taking pity on the two men, but also mostly just to prevent his precious bar from getting trashed because Eric, Misaki and Bandou were currently embroiled in a war of jabbing elbows while Fujishima, Kamamoto and Akagi tried in vain to pull them apart.
"Of course! As if Ichigen-sama would ever do anything so shameless as kissing a lowly one such as myself on the lips!" Kuroh declared, puffing up in indignation at the very thought.
"Kuroh, don't speak about yourself like that," Ichigen murmured, patting his disciple on the head. Kuroh blushed and looked adoringly at his teacher.
"That's right!" Shiro chimed in. "After all, Kuroh's lips belong to ME!"
For the second time that night, Kuroh choked on his drink. "What!?" he sputtered, taking out a handkerchief to wipe up all the liquid he had unintentionally sprayed all over himself and the table in front of him.
"Oh Kuroh, you really can't take a joke." Shiro laughed, helping to wipe the front of Kuroh's jacket with some tissues he had grabbed from the tissue box on the table which had thankfully survived the onslaught.
"Of course not, not when you make such vulgar jokes," Kuroh scoffed, waving Shiro's hands away as the latter finished wiping his jacket and patted him firmly on the chest. Oddly, he had felt a sudden sharp twinge in his heart when he heard Shiro call it a joke, and for the life of him couldn't figure out why. Resolving to think about it later, he filed it away to the back of his mind before promptly forgetting about it once the game moved on.
It was Fuse's turn to be King for the next round, and he ended up choosing the numbers for Doumyouji and Kamamoto. Almost before Fuse's last words had finished leaving his mouth, Doumyouji shot the Blue Boys a smug grin, and without even bothering to move towards the mistletoe, reached over the table to grab the front of Kamamoto's hoodie with both hands and pulled him into a deep kiss.
There was a sense of de ja vu as a dead silence fell over the bar again as the rest of the people in the bar watched the scene unfolding before their eyes in breathless anticipation, except for the fact that this time the former caramel coated nut crunching Kamamoto was a hapless participant in the scene and no longer just a rubbernecking bystander.
Ten seconds crawled by and the kiss was still ongoing.
A stifled noise came from beside Kamamoto where Ayumi was sitting. Wary eyes shot over to her direction, thinking that perhaps the lovestruck girl would soon cause a scene in protest at her beloved being kissed by someone else. Instead, the petite girl was clasping her hands together as she gazed in fascination at the two lip-locked men. Waving a hand vigorously in front of her face, she said faintly, "... Oh my. I think maybe a new passion has awakened in me."
Over at the bar, Yayoi was clutching her own flushed checks, nodding along rapturously as she listened to Ayumi's declaration.
Doumyouji finally released his lips from Kamamoto's with a loud popping sound, and the larger man stumbled backwards and fell back down heavily in his seat, dazed. Doumyouji turned around and flashed a victory sign at his colleagues, before similarly turning to the HOMRA boys and stating triumphantly, "And that, my friends, is how you give a REAL kiss." The silence promptly dissolved and gave way to yells of anger as the HOMRA boys yelled at Kamamoto for not fighting back and Eric for not "showing them how REAL men do it", and whoops and cheers from the Sceptre 4 boys as they surrounded Doumyouji, slapping him on the back in congratulations and offering him words of praise for "one upping those spineless red brats". It looked like an all out brawl was about to break out between the two groups until Kusanagi, again in crisis management mode, quickly yelled at every to shut up and pick their lots.
Fushimi was crowned the next King, and he called out the numbers 24 and 34 in a bored voice. His chosen ones turned out to be Tatara and Anna.
Tatara took Anna's hand in his and drew her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Anna's expression didn't change, but her eyes sparkled and her cheeks turned slightly pink. Tatara patted her on the head as everyone in the bar collectively sighed at the wholesomeness of the scene before them. Everyone, that is, except for one person.
"This is so unfair!" Chitose wailed. "Why did everyone assume the worst of me but everyone is fine when Totsuka-san gets picked together with Anna!?"
"Do you really want us to answer that question?" Dewa asked flatly. Chitose gave him an injured look and pouted.
"27 and 30," Seri announced, her authoritative tone sounding perfectly suited to her temporary role as King.
There was a loud clatter as Takeru fell from his chair.
"W-what!?" Takeru yelped, "I've n-never kissed anyone before, let alone on the mouth!"
"Kusuhara." Zenjou's deep voice boomed across the room.
"Yes, sir!" Takeru immediately shot up and snapped smartly to attention, fixing his eyes on his superior, who returned his gaze solemnly.
"A true soldier should not quail in the face of the unexpected. What one lacks in inexperience can be compensated with the resolve and determination to approach new challenges with an open mind and learn from them."
"Yes, Zenjou-san!"
"Well then, with that in mind, it is time for you to take the initiative." Zenjou said as he walked over to stand under the hanging mistletoe.
"Yes, Zenjou-san!" Takeru repeated automatically, as he always did whenever the older man issued him instructions. But once the auto-pilot influence had worn off and his brain caught up again on what was happening, he froze up again. He peered at Zenjou nervously like a deer in the headlights, while the older man simply looked back at him passively.
Timidly stepping over to Zenjou, Takeru reached out a shaking hand, seemingly about to place it on his superior's right shoulder, but he hesitated just before it could reach its destination and changing his mind, shyly grasped Zenjou's empty sleeve instead.
If one looked closely, one could almost detect a slight smile turning up the corner of the one-armed demon's lips, but it was soon gone in the blink of an eye, leaving one to wonder if they had imagined it. Of course, still trembling like a delicate leaf in the wind, Takeru was too busy trying not to faint on the spot to notice anything.
Stretching out his hand, Zenjou grasped Takeru's wrist and placed the younger man's hand on his right shoulder, ignoring the squeak that tumbled from the other's lips.
"Continue," Zenjou merely said, as Takeru looked up at him with wide eyes, flustered.
"Yes sir!" Takeru automatically responded, seeming to relax slightly as he took comfort in the familiar motions of being instructed by his superior.
Takeru raised his left hand and placed it on Zenjou's other shoulder this time.
In response, Zenjou reached out and placed his hand at the back of Takeru's waist and gave a quick tug, forcing the other to come closer so that they were standing almost chest to chest. Takeru's face smooshed into Zenjou's very broad and very solid and very warm chest. Panicked, he pulled his head back slightly to apologise, but the words stuck in his throat as he looked up into Zenjou's eyes and he realised just how close they were. Dropping his eyes quickly to the other man's chest, he chewed on his lip nervously and managed to stutter out an apology, brain stalling in panicky stops and starts as he pondered what to do next.
Zenjou removed his hand from Takeru's waist and the latter barely had any time to register the sudden small pang he felt at the loss of warmth when Zenjou reached out to tilt his chin up, forcing Takeru to look into his eyes.
There was another squeak and Takeru stared back at Zenjou with eyes blown even wider with shock.
"Continue," Zenjou said simply.
"Yes sir!" Takeru replied instantly, straightening up and continuing to look at the other's eyes, understanding the silent command that he was not to look away at any cost. Takeru was full of admiration - as expected of Zenjou-san, he knew that Takeru had forgotten and was reminding him of one of the basic tenets of his training that "One must always keep his gaze on his opponent and be ready to strike at the sign of any opening." Takeru felt that he was truly blessed to have the chance to be personally taught by such an experienced and thorough master swordsman every day.
However, as Takeru continued to look deep into Zenjou's eyes, he felt himself begin to blush for some inexplicable reason. He gulped and unconsciously grasped at the lapels of the older man's coat, fearing that if he let go his jelly-like legs would give way completely. Taking a few breaths to collect himself, he placed his hand on Zenjou's cheek, trying to ignore the odd twist he felt in his stomach when his skin came into contact with Zenjou's.
Again, there was another ghost of a smile and Zenjou slowly tilted his head and leaned into Takeru's palm, seeming almost like a German shepherd rubbing its cheek against its owner's hand.
Breathless at the unexpected glimpse of this formerly unseen cuter side of his normally stern superior, Takeru's brain finally exploded in a shower of sparks and his body seemed to move on its own as he finally leaned forward and their lips touched.
Takeru melted into the kiss, barely noticing as Zenjou continued to gently adjust his position minutely so that they fit together more comfortably, instinctively following Zenjou's lead as they deepened their kiss.
"Oh ho~~~~," Munakata said, raising an eyebrow at Zenjou, who briefly gave him a sideways glance before returning to his "lesson", his face impassive.
Finally, Zenjou pulled away, smoothly catching Takeru around the waist before the latter could fall down to the ground, his poor legs finally giving up their losing battle to keep him upright.
"Well done, Kusuhara. You learn fast," Zenjou said, an uncharacteristically gentle look in his eyes as he looked down at the boneless puddle in his arms. The words seemed to revive the dazed man and he perked up, for a moment almost seeming to morph into an eager puppy pricking up its ears and wagging its tail happily at having received praise from its owner.
"Thank you, sir! I have received some very valuable instruction from you today and I am sure it will come in very handy next time!" Takeru said, finally managing to stabilise his limbs long enough to give a wobbly salute.
There's going to be a next time!? was the silent collective thought of everyone else in the bar, the Sceptre 4 boys rubbing their aching jaws after having picked them up from the ground again for the second time that day, while Takeru happily returned to his seat, oblivious to the implications of what he had just said.
"Ok, moving on! It's lot picking time!" Tatara called out, eyes twinkling. This was turning out to be one of the most entertaining parties he had ever hosted.
It was time for Chitose to be King next.
"17 and 33!" He called out.
A loud exasperated sigh came from the dining booth where Fushimi was seated. "That's me," he said grumpily, very reluctantly holding up a lot with the number "17" on it and looking very much like he wanted to destroy the bar along with everyone inside it.
"All right, then who's number 33?" Chitose asked, eyes scanning over the rest of the partygoers since no one else had made themselves known.
Suddenly, a slurred voice piped up from opposite Fushimi.
"'s me, " Misaki let out a small giggle, his face oddly red and his eyes unfocused. Fushimi looked at him askance. Why was he looking so flushed? Surely he couldn't be embarrassed? Fushimi was a man after all, so it couldn't be that Misaki's discomfort with women was acting up at the thought of having to kiss one of the ladies present.
Chitose didn't dare to look over at Fushimi, for fear of receiving a glare so venomous that he would probably drop dead on the spot if their eyes met. He covered his face with his hands. Maybe this was karma for suggesting this cursed mistletoe game in the first place.
Fushimi wasn't the only one to notice that there was something odd with Misaki. Bandou trotted over and peered at Misaki's face, frowning slightly as he scrutinised the other man's face closely. Then suddenly, he let out a loud yell that made everyone around him jump.
"What the hell, Bandou!?" Eric growled, his ears ringing.
"Is that," said Bandou, pointing a trembling finger at the glass that Misaki currently had his hands wrapped around, "Is that the spiked eggnog!? Who the hell let Misaki drink that!?"
"Oops, that was me, teehee!" Doumyouji said, sticking his tongue out and winking cutely with an expression that could only be best described as a "my-oops-is-a-lie-and-I'm-actually-not-apologetic-at-all" face. "I thought the non-alcoholic eggnog just didn't have the same kick in it as the alcoholic one, so when Yata-san asked for a refill of his drink I thought he might like to give it a try!"
"Teehee my ass!" Bandou roared, backing away. "Do you not know what happens when Yata-san becomes drunk!?"
"Um, no?" Doumyouji replied. "I'm not from HOMRA. How would I?"
Bandou glared at him. "That was meant to be a rheto--- mph!" His shout was abruptly cut off as Misaki had suddenly stood up and grabbed him and planted a giant kiss on his lips.
The screech died on Bandou's poor ravished lips and he frantically pushed the other man away. He was unfortunate enough to look over in the direction where Fushimi was seated, and received the fright of his life as Sceptre 4's third-in-command gave him a murderous glare that felt like it could literally melt the flesh off his bones.
"... and there you have it. Yata becomes a kissing monster when he's drunk." Tatara chirped, looking on in amusement at the chaos unfolding in front of him.
Misunderstanding the reason why Bandou looked like he was about to die, Doumyouji snickered and asked, "What's wrong, Bandou-san? Was that your first kiss?"
"Nooooooooo, San-chan's first kiss was meeeeeeee!" Akagi protested loudly, before Bandou could reply.
"What the HELL Akagi?" Bandou spluttered, still trying to peel Misaki off him. Unfortunately, the other man continued clinging on to him like a limpet.
"Don't you remember? It was when our class put on that Sleeping Beauty play for our cultural festival when we were in junior high! You were the Princess and I was the Prince!"
"THAT KIND OF FAKE KISS DOESN'T COUNT!" Bandou roared, still busy battling HOMRA's three-legged crow who somehow seemed to have transformed into an octopus. "And stop digging up all my black history!"
"What do you mean it doesn't count?" Akagi asked, pouting. "Does that mean if I give you another one now it'll count?"
Bandou had finally managed to kick Misaki off him and was too distracted for Akagi's question to register in his mind. So he was totally unprepared for when Akagi pulled him into his embrace and kissed him soundly.
The fuck!? was the first thought that passed through Bandou's frozen brain. This is actually quite nice? was the second. And finally, Oh god is that his tongue!? was the third before Bandou's brain finally gave up struggling and decided to stop working altogether.
Akagi ended the kiss by nipping at Bandou's lips playfully before pulling away, looking extremely pleased with himself. The bar exploded with whoops and jeers as the HOMRA and Sceptre 4 boys made fun of Bandou, who grew progressively redder and more angry as Akagi simply scratched his head shyly and thanked those clapping him on the back.
"FUCK YOU, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Bandou roared at Akagi.
"Oh my San-chan, so soon after just a kiss? I didn't know you would be the type to move so fast," Akagi joked.
Bandou blinked at him in confusion momentarily, then blushed even harder until his face almost turned purple when he processed the unintended innuendo.
"What the HELL... all right FINE. If I'm going down then you're ALL going down with me!" Bandou yelled, grabbing the first two people closest to him and flinging them under the mistletoe.
Two people who just happened to be Fushimi and Yata.
"Er?" a drunk Misaki hiccuped blearily at a Fushimi whose face looked like it could freeze the very flames of hell itself.
Fushimi tsked. "This is stupid," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning around to stride off in the direction of the door. "I'm leaving."
"Saru? W're you goin'? 'r you gon' leave me again?" Misaki slurred in confusion, grabbing Fushimi frantically by his sleeve and looking up at him piteously. Fushimi froze, gazing down at Misaki's disheveled clothes, flushed face, teary eyes and slightly agape lips, and to his horror felt a wave of heat ripple through his body and something down below twitch.
"Let go!" Fushimi snapped, snatching his hand away, desperate to get away and get his feelings under control. But he miscalculated the force used and with Misaki's balance already being rather unsteady due to his drunkenness, the latter lost his balance and began to fall backwards.
Fushimi didn't have excellent reflexes for nothing. He immediately reached out to steady Misaki by grabbing the front of his t-shirt, but in his panic, he pulled just a tad bit too hard and ended up yanking Misaki towards him.
Everything around them seemed to move in slow motion as Misaki continued his free fall towards Fushimi...
With a loud SMACK, Misaki's lips mashed against Fushimi's, so violently that their teeth clacked. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Fushimi for support, but the velocity of his fall was too fast even for Fushimi to handle, and the two men ended up crashing on the floor, their faces still plastered together.
Despite the violent jolt, Misaki seemed quite content to continue his imitation of a limpet that was enthusiastically attached to Fushimi's face, while Sceptre 4's golden boy stayed frozen to the spot, for once at a loss of what to say with no snarky comeback at the ready.
A few more seconds ticked by before Misaki rolled off his makeshift rock and flopped over on his back, snoring loudly.
For the nth time that day, there was a dead silence in the bar as everyone stared at the two bodies before them, one sleeping and one seemingly encased in ice. No one dared to breathe a single word until...
"... Well, I guess maybe it's time to put an end to this game?" Chitose shrugged, smiling wryly.
==============
In a certain traditional Japanese house in a certain decidedly not traditional maze of underground tunnels, another Christmas party was underway, albeit on a much smaller scale.
"All right everyone, eat up!" Iwafune said, laying a huge platter of fried chicken on the table that the rest of the Jungle members were gathered around.
"Fried chicken! Fried chicken!" Kotosaka cried out as he flapped around their heads with glee.
"Since today's a special occasion, I've made my special super spicy fried chicken with green and red chillies to go with the colour theme of our decorations!" Iwafune continued, waving his hand towards the walls of their makeshift house where red and green tinsel was draped everywhere. "I've prepared lots of drinks too, so feel free to eat and drink as much as you like!"
"Awesome!" Sukuna exclaimed, reaching out to snag a few pieces off the platter.
"Sukuna, remember to chew properly otherwise you'll choke. Lots of old people in Japan die every year from choking on mochi because they don't chew properly, you know," Iwafune chided as he placed a headband with green reindeer antlers on Nagare's head before putting a red Santa hat on his own.
"Whatever, old man," Sukuna shot back, sticking his tongue out at Iwafune around an already half-chewed mouthful of fried chicken. "That won't happen to me because I'm not ancient like YOU." Iwafune simply laughed in response, used to the boy's barbed insults.
"Where's Douhan-chan, Iwa-san?" Yukari asked as he declined the red reindeer antler headband Iwafune offered in his direction, with the reason being that the red would clash with the colour of his hair. He reached over to pick up a piece of fried chicken elegantly with his chopsticks instead. "Didn't you tell her about today's party?"
"I did send her an invitation, but she didn't reply," Iwafune said.
"It is no matter, Iwa-san," Nagare said, his usual calm tone adding to the absurdity of one of the most terrifyingly powerful supernatural beings on the planet attempting to imitate an incorrectly colourized reindeer. He sipped from a straw in the drink in front of him, the mug decorated with garish paintings of Santa's elves prancing gaily through the snow. "She will come if she feels like it. Regardless, I plan for us to have an enjoyable celebration even if she chooses not to attend."
"Bleagh, who needs that fake ninja here anyway, she's such a stick in the mud that she'll probably make everything feel gloomy and gross," Sukuna grumbled, though the others noticed with amusement that the expressive boy couldn't hide his disappointment from showing in his eyes.
"Oh my, are you sulking, Sukuna-chan?" Yukari teased.
"I'M NOT S---"
Suddenly, there was a tinny sound and a burst of static before music started blaring over the ancient transistor radio that had up till now never let out a single squeak, no matter how many times Iwafune had tried to fiddle with it and Sukuna had tried to kick it.
"What the?"
"What the hell is this!?"
"Language, Sukuna," Iwafune reprimanded again, although he was wincing and covering up his ears as well.
As a thought suddenly struck him, Iwafune paled. He reached over and grabbed the mug that was sitting on the tray in front of Nagare's wheelchair. He sniffed it and blanched.
"Nagare, did you drink this!? This eggnog is the one that has alcohol in it! Who gave this to Nagare!?" He yelped in dismay.
Nagare let out a little hiccup. "The drink was delicious, Iwa-san. May I have more?" He giggled and the holographic screen in front of him flashed. Iwafune watched in dismay as the bars in the volume control icon rocketed upwards.
"ON THE FIFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEE FIVEEEEEEEEEEE GOLDENNNNNNNNNNN RINGSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" the radio blared.
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! TOO NOISY! TOO NOISY!" Kotosaka squawked loudly, adding to the din.
"FOUR CALLING BIRDS~~~~~~~~~~~"
"Oh, the irony," Iwafune murmured as he glared at the one very loudly calling bird, trying to catch it and clamp its beak shut.
"Omggggggggggggggg make it stoppppppppppppp!" Sukuna whined as he pressed his hands over his ears.
"AND A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
"Oh my, this racket is an abomination to my beautiful ears," Yukari sighed, placing a the back of his hand delicately against his forehead.
By coincidence, Douhan had picked that exact moment to phase through the floor of the makeshift house. She had received the invitation from Iwafune a few days ago, but not wanting to appear too eager, had decided not to reply and show up fashionably late to the party. Stopping in her tracks, she gazed silently at the commotion before her. Without a word, she promptly phased back out, leaving not a single trace of her presence behind.
=================
Bonus Omake
(Was originally planning to end this fic at the Jungle scene but I couldn't resist adding this because I am an incorrigible MikoTata shipper)
The party at Bar HOMRA had finally drawn to a close, and the place had been cleaned up by the HOMRA members, as well as by the Sceptre 4 members thanks to the insistence of Awashima, although there had been much grumbling from them about their aching muscles. Surprisingly, Fushimi had kept silent throughout the entire cleaning process with nary a complaint - he almost seemed like a stone statue going stiffly through the motions, and even had to be poked and prodded into walking properly as he and the rest of Sceptre 4 made their way back to their dormitory. Misaki had remained snoring in one of the dining booths until the cleaning had finished, whereupon he was bundled up unceremoniously by the other HOMRA boys who said they would send him home.
Mikoto was, as usual, slumbering on the sofa.
"Mikoto," Tatara tapped the sleeping King on his shoulder.
The Red King cracked an eye open. The first sight that greeted him was of Tatara dangling a piece of mistletoe over him.
"Did you have fun?" Tatara asking, playfully tapping at Mikoto's nose with the green sprig. Mikoto merely grunted in reply, but years of experience had taught Tatara how to decipher his King's grunts, and he knew this was an affirmative one.
"I'm glad," Tatara beamed, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his King's nose. Just as he was pulling away, Mikoto let out another grunt and pulled the other man toward him for another deeper kiss on the mouth. Tatara was startled at the suddenness, but then smiled as he relaxed into the kiss, making pleased humming noises which earned him a tsk from Mikoto when they broke apart.
Tatara snuggled up next to Mikoto, who automatically wrapped his arm around him. Due to his naturally low body temperature, there was nothing Tatara liked more than lying pressed up by the side of his King, whose body gave off a comforting heat that made Tatara feel like he was being wrapped up by the gentle flames of a hearthfire. They lay there quietly enjoying the stillness of the bar, a stark contrast from how it had been merely an hour before.
"Merry Christmas, King," Tatara whispered softly just as he could hear the other man's breathing begin to even out, indicating that he was on the verge of falling asleep. Tatara closed his eyes as he began to feel himself drift off as well.
"I'm happy."