Keito arrived first at the LDH rehearsal studio, rubbing his hands together against the cold. He pushed the studio door open, and the faint scent of disinfectant and wood polish greeted him. The mirrored walls reflected his figure back.
Not long after, Sota arrived—hair slightly tousled, scarf still looped around his neck, coffee in hand. They exchanged a knowing look, a grin stretching between them like a silent signal.
“We’re really doing this,” Sota said, setting the cups down. “We’re insane, Keito.”
Keito smirked, unzipping the bag. “You say that, but you brought the ribbons.”
“I didn’t say I pulled out from the plan,” Sota replied, his grin widening.
Without wasting time, they began pulling out boxes of Christmas decorations they had sneakily brought yesterday. Dozen of mistletoes—fake but convincing, were tangled among tinsel and red ribbons. Sota crouched near the entrance, tying one sprig above the doorway while Keito dragged a small ladder toward the center of the room.
They knew it would be too suspicious if mistletoe alone adorned the place, so they decided to camouflage their traps. Soon, little strings of warm fairy lights ran along the mirrors, small plush snowmen sat on top of the speakers, and a mini Christmas tree blinked softly beside the sound booth. There were paper snowflakes, candy canes tied with satin ribbons, and even a reindeer plush perched at the corner table.
Sota stepped back to admire their work, hands on his hips, grinning. “Perfect. Now all we need is for them to walk into one.”
“You really think this will work?”
“It has to. It’s Christmas, and everyone deserves a little romance. Besides, haven’t you noticed? They act like a married couple already.”
Keito snorted. “You mean Sekai-san acts like a grumpy husband and Taiki-kun just… smiles through it?”
“That’s the charm,” Sota said, nodding with mock seriousness.
They both looked at the ceiling, admiring their own works of mistletoe's strategic placements. By the speaker, near the mirror, right in front of the main mic stand. The entire studio had turned into a minefield of opportunities, all waiting for one specific couple.
“We’ll need help,” Keito said, crossing his arms. “No way we can control both Sekai-san and Taiki-kun alone. The others will have to join.”
“Yeah,” Sota agreed. “Let’s rope in the others when they come.”
Gradually, the door creaked open again. Leiya and Yusei entered together, both mid-conversation, still laughing about something. Leiya stopped first, blinking at the sudden burst of red and green that greeted them. “Whoa, did Santa explode in here?”
Yusei tilted his head, squinting toward the little Christmas tree. “I thought rehearsal studios don’t usually have… snowmen on speakers.”
Sota quickly beckoned them closer, glancing toward the door like a man about to reveal an important operation. Leiya followed, curiosity lighting up his face, while Yusei leaned in with a hand over his mouth to suppress a grin.
“It’s a plan,” Sota whispered. “For Sekai-san and Taiki-kun to kiss under mistletoe.”
Yusei let out a soft laugh. “You’re kidding.”
Keito shook his head. “We’re serious. We just need help steering them under one. The rest will handle itself.”
Leiya’s grin turned mischievous. “This is dangerous. I love it.”
Yusei rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “It’s so dumb it might actually work.”
They exchanged glances, a silent agreement forming between them. It was the kind of harmless chaos that made long rehearsals bearable. Yusei clapped Sota’s shoulder, promising his cooperation, while Leiya muttered something about finding the best timing. The four of them stood in a little circle, whispering like kids plotting to sneak out past bedtime.
Soon after, the door opened again, and Sawanatsu stepped inside. His eyes widened confusedly at the sight of the decorations. “What… happened in here?”
Keito didn’t waste a second. “Natsuki-kun!” he called, pulling him aside before he could even put down his bag. “We need your help.”
Sawanatsu listened as they explained, his eyebrows gradually arching higher until he finally broke into laughter.
“You really think Sekai-san will fall for something like that? He’s not exactly easy to fool.”
Sota folded his arms. “He’s still human. Everyone has a weak spot.”
“His weak spot is probably Taiki-kun, yeah,” Sawanatsu said, grinning. “But you’re underestimating how sharp Sekai-san is.”
Keito and Sota exchanged looks of mild frustration, their determination deepening. “Then we’ll just have to be sharper,” Keito said stubbornly.
Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of the door opening again. Horinatsu entered, a coffee in hand, his usual calm expression immediately turning suspicious as he scanned the overly festive room. His eyes landed on the ceiling, then on them.
“Okay,” he said flatly. “Who’s your target?”
Everyone froze.
“What target?” Sota asked, trying and failing to sound innocent.
Horinatsu raised an eyebrow. “There are mistletoes in every corner, Sota. You’re not fooling me.”
Leiya burst into laughter, and even Yusei struggled to hold his composure. Eventually, Sota confessed. “It’s for Sekai-san and Taiki-kun. Will you help?”
Horinatsu sipped his coffee, studying them for a moment before letting out a slow exhale. “You know what? Sure. I could use some entertainment today.”
By now, the studio was alive with quiet laughter and energy, the plan bouncing between them like a shared secret. They barely had time to finish arranging the final few ribbons when the door opened again.
Conveniently, Sekai and Taiki stepped in together at last.
Taiki was the first to step in, his bright voice cutting through the chatter. “Good morning, everyone! Wow, the place looks so festive today!” His eyes widened with genuine delight as he took in the decorations.
The rest of the members smiled, feigning innocence. Keito was biting his lip to hide a grin.
Behind him, Sekai trudged in with less enthusiasm, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His shoulders were slightly slumped, the exhaustion from yesterday’s EXILE performance still clinging to him. He yawned audibly, couldn’t careless about the decorations, and began stretching his shoulder with a practiced roll.
“We starting or what?” he snapped at the members who stood still.
“Joyful as ever, Sekai-san,” Sawanatsu muttered under his breath, earning a snicker from Yusei.
The plan was put on hold as rehearsal began, but the conspirators exchanged knowing glances. Their time would come.
⋆꙳•❅*🎄*❆•꙳⋆⋆꙳•❅*🎄*❆•꙳⋆
When the rehearsal break finally arrived, the first attempt was launched.
Yusei and Sota called out to Taiki, waving him over to check a choreography video on phone. They casually stood near one of the mistletoes, fishing Taiki to stand beneath it.
“Taiki-kun, can you come here for a second? I don’t understand this move.”
Taiki, nodded and stepped into position, looking at the screen. “Which one?”
“Here,” Yusei said, hiding a grin.
Then, with a well-timed signal, Sota called for Sekai. “Sekai-san! Can you come check this too? Something feels off in this move.”
Sekai walked over slowly, stretching his neck. But just before he reached the spot, his gaze flicked up—and there it was. A tiny bunch of green leaves hanging neatly above Taiki’s head.
He paused mid-step, a faint smirk touching his lips. “I think Taiki can handle it,” he said lightly, staying two meters away. “He could teach you both.”
Yusei’s grin froze. Sota mouthed a silent curse.
The second plan came five minutes later. Leiya approached Taiki, holding one of the small wrapped boxes. “Taiki-kun, can you help me move these?”
Taiki immediately agreed, picking it up without complaint. “Where to?”
“Over there,” Leiya said, pointing toward the area beneath another mistletoe. Meanwhile, Keito was already standing in the area, and was supposed to 'accidentally' call Sekai over to practice a move.
Everything aligned perfectly—until Sekai once again spotted the leafy trap hanging above and turned the other way.
“I’ll send you my practice video instead,” he said, almost too casually.
Leiya muttered under his breath as Taiki placed the boxes down, still oblivious. “He’s too good.”
Another effort came when Horinatsu, the least likely of them all, called out dryly, “Sekai-san, Taiki-kun, come here a second. I need you to check something on the speaker layout.” He stood by the equipment, right under one of the last mistletoe traps.
“No need,” Sekai said calmly. “Looks fine from here.”
Horinatsu chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “Thought so.”
The next attempt involved pure desperation. Sawanatsu suggested taking a group photo “for the fans,” a casual pretext that required everyone to stand close. He guided Taiki to the center of the frame, precisely under a mistletoe, while nudging Sekai subtly toward the same spot.
But Sekai caught the glint of mischief in Sawanatsu’s eyes.
“You take the middle,” he told Yusei, stepping aside. “You can’t be separated from Taiki anyway.”
The photo was taken. Taiki beamed. Everyone else groaned quietly.
The rest of the afternoon went on like that—choreographed positioning, casual excuses, even fake questions that required Taiki to turn around near suspicious spots.
Taiki kept smiling, kind and unsuspecting, going along with every odd request without question. On the other hand, Sekai, who was finally wide awake after the rehearsal started, enjoyed himself silently. He saw through them all, every little scheme, every glance exchanged between the members. But he said nothing, only dodged and redirected calmly, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips whenever they failed again.
By late afternoon, the rehearsal wound down. The air had grown warmer, the energy fading into the comfortable tiredness that came after a productive session. As the members packed up, Keito and Sota slumped against the wall, defeated.
Keito sat cross-legged, staring up at one of the mistletoes like it had personally betrayed him. “All that effort for nothing,” he muttered dramatically.
Sota flopped down beside him, sighing so loudly that Yusei chuckled. “Zero success. Not even a near miss.”
Leiya stretched his arms, shaking his head. “Sekai-san is too sharp. You should’ve known.”
Sawanatsu grinned. “Told you he wouldn’t fall for it.”
Horinatsu smiled faintly from where he was gathering his things. “Maybe next time, strategize against someone who doesn’t notice every detail in the room within five seconds.”
Taiki, meanwhile, crouched nearby, tying his shoelaces. He looked up at the collective sighs and furrowed brows. “You all look so tired,” he said gently. “Something wrong? Was the rehearsal too harsh?”
The group exchanged quick glances, none of them daring to answer.
“Nothing!” Keito blurted out, too quickly. “Just… Thinking about tomorrow’s schedule.”
Taiki tilted his head but smiled anyway, that soft, patient smile that always seemed to disarm everyone around him. “Alright. As long as everyone is okay.”
The members started packing up their belongings as the rehearsal wrapped up. The mistletoes still hung innocently around the studio, silent witnesses to the group’s failed attempts.
Sekai, leaning against the mirrored wall, rolled his eyes at the pitiful sight. He had seen enough of their melodrama for one day. Without saying a word, he straightened his posture, stretching slightly, and then looked toward Taiki.
“Taiki,” he called, his voice calm but carrying across the quiet room.
Taiki looked up from where he was folding a towel. “Yes?”
“Come here.”
The rest of the members turned instantly, sensing something brewing.
Taiki, a little puzzled, approached him, his steps soft against the wooden floor. Sekai stood in front of him, arms crossed loosely, eyes fixed upward.
“Look,” Sekai said, tilting his chin upward.
Taiki blinked, following his gaze. For a moment he only saw the reflection of light and a bit of green hanging from the ceiling. His brows furrowed as he focused, eyes narrowing in confusion—until the shape became clear.
A small sprig of mistletoe, tied with a red ribbon, swayed faintly in the air above them.
He froze, realization dawning slowly. His cheeks tinted red, spreading across his skin.
“Wait—” he stammered softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I thought that was just some pine leaves decoration.”
Sekai snorted, half amused, half exasperated. “No, it’s not,” he said, his tone teasing. His expression softened, the smirk lingering. “You really didn’t notice? You’ve been walking under these things all day.”
Taiki’s eyes widened, the embarrassment deepening. He looked adorably flustered, his mouth opening as if to explain himself, then closing again when words failed him. Sekai couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out, low and amused, carrying warmth.
“Don’t worry,” Sekai murmured, leaning slightly closer. His voice had that familiar ease. “I’ll make it simple for you.”
Before Taiki could react, Sekai tilted his head and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. Taiki's breath caught somewhere between surprise and nervous laughter. His cheeks were now unmistakably red.
Sekai straightened, one eyebrow slightly raised as if to say “Well?” before turning toward the others. “Are you satisfied, kids?” he asked dryly.
The room went completely still for a heartbeat.
“Wait, wait, they did it!” Yusei gasped, his voice cracking in disbelief.
Leiya slapped his hand over his mouth, wide-eyed. “Oh my god, they actually did it!”
Sawanatsu bursted out laughing, clapping his hands together. Horinatsu gave a short, sharp snort, shaking his head with faint amusement.
Meanwhile, Keito and Sota were frozen mid-sulk, their expressions morphing into dramatic astonishment.
“Sekai-san!” Sota cried. “That’s not fair! A cheek kiss doesn’t count!”
“Yeah!” Keito joined in, slapping his knee for emphasis. “Do it properly, on the lips! Don’t chicken out now, Dad!”
Sekai was already walking away, waving his hand in irritation. “Shut up,” he snapped back.
Taiki, who was still standing there, cheeks flushed scarlet, turned toward them with a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.
“Is this what you all have been plotting this whole time?” he said, his voice rising slightly as he gestured around the room. “We have a huge performance coming up, and this is how you spend your energy?”
The members tried, and failed, to look remorseful. Leiya ducked behind Yusei, stifling giggles. Sawanatsu raised his hands in surrender.
Sota protested dramatically, “It was Christmas spirit!”
Keito whined, “We just wanted to see some family affection!”
Taiki sighed deeply, rubbing his temples, though his expression was more fond than angry. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “You’re all like children.”
Their laughter faded as they packed up. One by one, the members began to leave the studio, the energy slowly cooling to a comfortable quiet. The last noise echoed down the hallway as the door closed behind them, leaving only Sekai and Taiki in the warm, overly decorated studio.
Taiki was still mumbling to himself as he gathered his things, shaking his head at the group’s antics. “Honestly, kids these days,” he said under his breath.
Across the room, Sekai sat at one of the tables, his laptop open, a soft blue glow illuminating his face. The quiet clicks of the keyboard blended with the faint hum of the heater. He was working, probably on a track, his focus steady even after the chaos.
Taiki threw him a sideways glance. “You’re not even going to say anything?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.
Sekai didn’t look up. “About what?”
“You know what,” Taiki muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “They’re hopeless. You should’ve stopped them earlier.”
Sekai snorted softly, eyes still on the screen. “You looked like you were enjoying the decorations, though,” he replied. “Didn’t want to ruin the fun.”
Taiki sighed but smiled faintly despite himself. He walked over to where Sekai was sitting, leaning slightly to peek at the laptop screen.
“Don’t stay too late,” Taiki warned softly. “You’ll end up sleeping here again if you get too focused.”
Sekai’s lips curved. “Just fixing a few things,” he said simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll head out soon.”
Taiki studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”
He turned to leave, but Sekai reached out suddenly, catching his wrist.
The sudden touch made Taiki pause. He turned back, eyes questioning. Sekai stood, closing his laptop halfway, and pulled something from his pocket. It was a small sprig of mistletoe, the same kind that had caused all the chaos earlier. His smile turned mischievous.
Taiki blinked, then chuckled softly. “Where did you get that?”
Sekai shrugged lightly. “Steal some from Keito and Sota’s decoration.”
Taiki laughed quietly. “Of course you did.” He reached out, covering Sekai’s hand with his own, fingers closing around both the mistletoe and Sekai’s palm. Their hands pressed together, warm against each other.
Taiki pulled down his bag on the table, their eyes met briefly before Taiki leaned in and kissed him.
It started gentle, but quickly deepened with familiar ease. Sekai’s hand came up to cup Taiki’s cheek, the other sliding around his waist as the mistletoe slipped from their joined hands and fell softly to the floor.
The kiss grew steadier, more certain, as if it wasn’t the first—because it wasn’t. It was something they both knew well, a secret relationship between them that the others have yet to see.
Sekai tilted his head slightly and deepened the kiss, and Taiki melted against him. His hands found Sekai’s chest before sliding upward, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt.
When they finally broke apart, Taiki’s face was flushed, his breathing uneven. Still, he managed a small, cheeky smile. “That,” he said softly, eyes flicking up to meet Sekai’s, “is how you kiss.”
Sekai smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. His fingers brushed along Taiki’s jaw before tracing down to his lower lip. “I know,” he murmured. “But I’m not doing that in front of the kids. I’m not letting them see how cute their mother’s face gets afterward.”
Taiki let out a soft groan, half-laughing, half-protesting. “You really have to call me that?”
Sekai didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed him again. This one was slower, their bodies pressed close enough for warmth. Taiki sighed softly against the kiss, his hands sliding up around Sekai’s neck, his fingers tangling in his hair. Sekai responded instinctively, his own hands tracing down Taiki’s back before slipping under the hem of his shirt. The contrast of cold fingertips against skin made Taiki shiver, a soft sound escaping his throat that made Sekai’s breath hitch slightly.
The air between them turned heavier, their breaths mingling. Taiki’s giggle broke once, soft and breathless against Sekai’s lips before another kiss swallowed it whole.
They stayed like that for a long moment, lost in each other’s rhythm, until they finally broke apart again, both breathing a little heavier but still smiling. Taiki rested his forehead against Sekai’s shoulder, their bodies still close.
Sekai’s voice came out softer. “Dinner at my place?”
Taiki lifted his head just enough to look at him, his lips curving into a teasing smile. “You make it sound romantic, but I bet it’s just McDonald’s takeout again.”
Sekai chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek gently. “Everything is romantic if I kiss you between every bite.”
Taiki laughed quietly, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless.”
“Hopelessly into you,” Sekai murmured in Taiki’s ear, deliberately lowering his voice several octaves.
Taiki shivered, but he managed to roll his eyes and sound annoyed. “Fine. But I’m choosing the drink this time.”
Sekai smirked, brushing his thumb over Taiki’s. “Deal.” He broke off the hug and started packing up swiftly.
They left the studio together, the jingles of the decorations swaying behind them. The mistletoe lay forgotten on the floor, but its purpose had already been fulfilled quietly.
END