Christmas day felt wrong.
It should have been bright and loud and busy, another rehearsals. Instead, the small apartment was quiet except for the tinny sounds of a video game.
Taiki lay slumped on the sofa. Black T-shirt, old short pants, hair a little messy from staying in all day. He scrolled through his phone without really seeing anything—SNS posts, fans wishing merry Christmas to EXILE, pictures of some of the older members on TV shows. His thumb kept moving, but his chest just sank lower and lower.
He glanced sideways.
Sekai sat right beside him, elbows on his knees, black hoodie hanging loose over his frame. His fingers moved quickly on the controller, eyes locked on the TV where bright characters jumped and fought and exploded. The game music had felt noisy and annoying the first few months they moved in together, but by now it was just… background. Like the ticking clock on the wall.
A year, he thought. It had already been a year.
A year since the auditions, since that crazy miracle of joining EXILE together. A year since he had packed his life into a few bags and followed his old teacher into this strange, big world full of stages and cameras and lights. A year of waking up and seeing Sekai at the kitchen counter, making instant coffee with bed hair and sleepy eyes. A year of late-night rehearsals and shared meals and collapsing into this same old sofa.
And now… nothing.
He stared down at his phone again. At the posts of other members in costumes, in studio dressing rooms, smiling on sets. They were out there earning money, being seen, doing things. Being EXILE. Meanwhile he was here, on Christmas day, in his shorts on the sofa while his roommate played games.
He pressed his lips together, that pathetic feeling curling tight in his stomach. He was an EXILE member. That EXILE. The legendary group, the group he had admired forever. And somehow he was still this twenty-year-old kid in a dark apartment, scrolling like some jobless guy.
It was ridiculous.
He let his phone fall flat onto his chest and stared up at the ceiling.
“I’m bored,” he muttered.
Sekai hummed. He didn’t even look away from the screen.
Taiki exhaled dramatically, then rolled onto his side, sliding his head onto Sekai’s lap as if that might physically drag attention toward him. He shifted until he was comfortable, one arm tucked against his chest, the other draped across Sekai’s leg.
“I want to go somewhere,” Taiki complained, turning his face so he could look up at Sekai’s profile.
“Mm,” Sekai answered. “Streets are crowded. Traffic is awful. I don’t wanna.”
Taiki pouted. “But it’s Christmas,” he insisted. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
Sekai dodged another attack on-screen before speaking again. “Besides,” he added calmly, “we don’t have much money.”
Taiki’s face scrunched. The truth of it stung more than he wanted to admit. He puffed his cheeks out, making them even rounder. He knew he looked childish like that, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t fair. He had worked so hard. They both had. And still the end of the year looked like this.
He felt Sekai’s gaze flick down for the first time. A small smile tugged at the corner of Sekai’s mouth. One hand left the controller, fingers reaching down to pinch Taiki’s cheek.
“Stop pouting,” Sekai said, teasing, before casually returning to his game.
Taiki made a quiet sound of protest, but he couldn’t help the tiny flutter in his chest at the touch.
Before Taiki could respond, the front door rattled.
They almost never locked the door properly unless they were sleeping, and everyone in the group knew it by now. Sure enough, the door slid open with a familiar squeak and a voice called lazily.
“Yo~”
Taiki lifted his head from Sekai’s lap and twisted around. “Ah, Mandy-san!”
Mandy stepped inside, kicking his shoes off. He wore a black tank top under a jacket, long pants, his tall frame filling the doorway with a familiar presence.
He walked in as if it was his own place, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “You guys didn’t even lock the door again,” he said, amused.
Sekai only gave a soft “Hmm” without pausing his game.
Taiki hopped up from the sofa. “Come in, come in,” he said quickly, gesturing toward the seating area.
Mandy plopped down on the other side of the sofa, stretching his long legs out. He glanced at the TV. “Still playing that?” he asked Sekai.
“Mm,” Sekai replied.
Mandy snorted, then turned toward Taiki instead. “So,” he said, “what are you two doing on this fine, festive night?” His tone was exaggeratedly cheerful, clearly joking.
Taiki sank back onto the sofa between them and sighed dramatically. “Nothing,” he said, letting his shoulders drop. “Absolutely nothing. I’m bored.”
“Same,” Mandy said, tipping his head back against the couch. “No jobs today. I thought, ‘Hey, this is weird. I’ll see what those two are doing.’ And you’re doing nothing. Great.”
Taiki let out a dry laugh. “Right? Can you believe it? We’re EXILE members and we’re… jobless on Christmas.”
Mandy clicked his tongue. “Don’t remind me.”
They slipped into a conversation that only people living the same strange, half-successful life could have. They talked about the concert tour they’d done at the start of the year. The thrill of standing under dome lights for the first time, the burning in their legs that never really went away. The way fans screamed their names even if it was only a fraction as loud as for the older members. They talked about how busy that had felt. How real.
“And now?” Mandy said, blowing air out of his cheeks. “Everyone is busy but us.”
“Yeah,” Taiki muttered, clutching a sofa pillow to his chest. “The older members have solo jobs, TV, dramas, radio, modeling… everything. And we’re just… here.”
He knew he sounded bitter. He hated that he sounded bitter. But the feeling sat heavy inside him anyway.
Mandy nodded slowly. “I mean, I still have GENERATIONS,” he admitted, scratching his neck. “So I’m not completely dead. But still, today is just… nothing. My schedule was empty. I’ve never seen something so blank.”
It hurt a little to hear that Mandy at least had another safety net, another group to fall back on. Taiki clutched the pillow tighter, not wanting that feeling to show on his face. “At least you have GENERATIONS,” he said lightly. “We just have EXILE. And EXILE… isn’t exactly calling us for Christmas specials.”
Sekai finally let out a small chuckle. “You two complain a lot for people who were on tour at the beginning of the year.”
“At least I want a Christmas cake,” Taiki announced, seizing onto a smaller wish. “If we’re going to be useless, can we be useless with cake?”
“I want it too!” Mandy groaned immediately, turning his head to look at them. “Please, I need sugar or I’ll die.”
“Then buy one,” Sekai said simply, fingers still resting on the controller.
Taiki blinked once. “Right. Money.” He jumped to his feet again. “I’ll check mine.”
He hurried toward his bedroom. He grabbed his wallet from the little shelf by his bed and shook it, already knowing it wouldn’t sound promising.
He came back to the living room and dropped down to his knees by the low table, flipping open the worn leather. A few coins tumbled out onto the wood. He counted them carefully, lips moving.
“I have… 1000 yen,” he said, trying hard not to sound embarrassed. “How much do you have, Mandy-san?”
Mandy pulled his own wallet from his back pocket and dug through it with exaggerated seriousness. Coins clattered as he emptied them onto the table too. “Let’s see… 500… another 500… okay, I have 1500 yen.”
Taiki nodded, trying to calculate automatically. “So that’s… 2500 yen.”
Then he turned his gaze slowly toward Sekai.
Sekai felt it. Taiki could tell, because he shifted slightly, though eyes still facing the TV. He kept staring. Finally, Sekai turned his head, eyebrows raising.
“What?”
“We’re going to buy a Christmas cake, Sekai-san,” he said solemnly, like declaring something important. “How much do you have at hand?”
Sekai clicked his tongue, then put his controller down with a sigh of defeat. “I think… I have around 2000 yen in my wallet,” he said after a second of thought.
Taiki’s eyes lit up immediately. “That makes 4500 yen!” he said, almost bouncing. “Let’s buy one!”
He quickly gathered his and Mandy’s coins and leaned over to shove them into Sekai’s hands. “Here. You’re in charge.”
Sekai looked at him, then at the coins, then back at him. For a moment Taiki worried he would say no. But instead, a soft smile spread across Sekai’s face.
“Okay, fine.” he said.
He reached over and turned off the game console. The game sounds faded, leaving the apartment in silence.
“YAAAY!” Taiki threw his hands up, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. He hopped to his feet, ran to grab a jacket from the hook by the door, and pulled it on over his T-shirt in a rush. Mandy laughed lazily and followed suit.
They all slipped into their shoes, and in another moment, they were out the door.
The air outside bit Taiki’s skin as soon as they reached the street. The night was crisp, almost too cold for his short pants, but he didn’t care. It felt good to be outside.
Christmas decorations twinkled along the road. Small trees in front of cafes, glowing signs, lights wrapped around lampposts. The sound of distant laughter and car engines and Christmas songs from somewhere.
They didn’t even glance toward the direction of the fancy cake shops. Taiki knew exactly where they were, but the prices on those had made his eyes water. Even walking past them tonight would hurt.
The convenience store’s glass doors slid open with a little ding that felt comfortingly familiar. Taiki sighed without meaning to; there was something comforting about this smell, like late-night snacks after rehearsals.
They headed straight for the dessert section. The shelves were piled with plastic boxes of cakes and sweets. Small round cakes, roll cakes, puddings, parfaits, colorful pastries… Taiki’s eyes went wide.
“Wow…”
“So many,” Mandy said.
Taiki scanned the shelves eagerly. Even the cheap ones looked nice, cream fairly neat, strawberries glossy and red. After the dullness of their living room, this display felt like a tiny festival just for them.
But when he checked the little price labels, his excitement sank.
Christmas-themed cakes, decorated with tiny trees and Santa figurines were all expensive. The prices were stupid. Way above their sad 4500 yen budget.
Taiki swallowed, lips pressing into a thin line as he looked from price tag to price tag. It wasn’t like he had never been broke before, but somehow, standing here in his EXILE body, with his EXILE title, it stung more. Being an adult and still having to count coins in front of a dessert shelf was… painful.
He let out a sigh that came from deep in his chest. “Too expensive,” he muttered.
Sekai nodded. “Yeah… these are crazy.”
They kept looking though, refusing to give up. After a few minutes of scanning, Taiki spotted something on a lower shelf. A small round cake, simple white cream with a striped pattern circling the side. No Christmas decorations, just clean lines and a tiny label stuck on the top.
He crouched down to get a better look. It wasn’t festive, but it was… cute. Simple and cute. Like the kind of cake you’d buy just because you wanted something nice on a random day.
Taiki’s heart lifted a little. “I want this one!” he said, fingers hovering just above the box.
The words came out a bit too quickly and he caught himself, cheeks warming. He straightened up, swallowing, and turned back toward them. “Ah, b-but… what about you, Sekai-san? Mandy-san? Do you guys like it?”
Mandy leaned over his shoulder and smiled. “Sure. That looks cute,” he said easily.
“Yeah,” Sekai said. “Cute.”
His tone was casual, but when Taiki glanced up, he realized Sekai wasn’t looking at the cake at all. His eyes were on Taiki’s face, in a way that made Taiki’s heart jump against his ribs. The light reflected in Sekai’s dark eyes, and for a second the world shrank to just that gaze.
Heat shot straight up Taiki’s neck. He tore his eyes away, looking back at the label in a panic. “U-uhm, the price is… 5000 yen,” he said quickly, clinging to the numbers to steady himself. “It’s a bit…”
He trailed off. They didn’t have that much, even putting everyone’s coins together.
Sekai stepped closer, glancing at the label himself. “5000 yen, huh,” he murmured. Then he nodded once. “Don’t worry. I have some extra money.”
Taiki’s head snapped up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Sekai took the cake from the shelf with one hand as if it weighed nothing. “I’ll cover the rest.”
Mandy’s grin widened. “Thanks man!”
Taiki’s chest flooded with warmth. “Thank you, Sekai-san,” he said, smiling so wide he felt ridiculous. The relief and happiness mixed into something fizzy inside him. He and Mandy exchanged matching grins, almost childlike.
Sekai just shook his head and carried the cake to the register. Taiki and Mandy followed closely behind, practically buzzing.
As soon as they stepped back outside, the cold grabbed them again. The plastic bag rustled softly around the cake, hanging carefully from Sekai’s hand.
“I’ll carry it,” Taiki said quickly, reaching for it.
Sekai eyed him. “Don’t swing it around.”
“I won’t,” Taiki promised, though the second the handles settled against his palm, he couldn’t help a tiny sway. The weight of the box shifted, and he smiled like a kid given a secret.
After they walked a few blocks, Mandy pulled his phone out to check the time. His eyes went a little wide.
“Uh… guys,” he said. “It’s almost midnight. Like… eleven forty-five.”
Taiki stopped mid-step and turned around. “Eh? We haven’t even eaten the cake yet!” The whole point was Christmas cake, and Christmas was about to vanish into regular, boring night.
He could feel Sekai’s gaze on him, and when he looked back, Sekai’s mouth had curled into a playful grin. Taiki knew that look. That was the “I thought of something stupid and fun” look.
“Wanna run?” Sekai asked, voice lightly challenging.
Taiki burst out laughing. “Run?”
“Why not?” Mandy said, eyes glinting. “Let’s do it. Let’s get back before midnight.”
The idea was so dumb and simple that it made Taiki’s blood light up. He clutched the cake bag onto his chest. “Okay!”
They stopped on the sidewalk, lined up side by side.
Mandy raised one arm, eyes sparkling. “Ready…” he called, drawing the word out, looking from Sekai to Taiki.
Taiki’s heart thudded against his ribs, excitement and cold and something else all tangled together. His fingers tightened on the plastic handles.
“Go!”
They ran as fast as they could.
They took off down the street, breath bursting out in white clouds. Taiki’s legs burned almost immediately, but he laughed anyway. He could hear Mandy’s heavy steps, Sekai’s lighter ones, all of them stumbling and bumping shoulders as they ran.
By the time they burst back into the apartment building and stumbled into the hallway, Taiki’s chest was burning and his throat hurt from laughing. They staggered up the stairs, gasping and half-tripping.
They crashed through the apartment door at 11:50 PM.
Taiki collapsed onto the floor just past the entrance, carefully placing the cake bag beside him. He lay there, laughter still shaking his shoulders.
Mandy leaned against the wall, hands on his knees, wheezing. “I’m… too old… for this…”
“You’re 24,” Taiki managed between laughs. “You’re fine…”
Sekai kicked the door shut, breathing hard but less destroyed than the other two. “You two are idiots,” he said, but his grin was wide and bright.
They pulled themselves together and moved into the living room. Taiki shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He hurried into the kitchen corner, grabbed three small plates, then rummaged for spoons and a knife. He reached for the fridge and pulled out two cans of beer and a bottle of cola.
He loaded everything into his arms and almost dropped a spoon on the way back, but somehow made it without disaster. The cake box sat proudly on the low table now.
They all sat on the floor, Taiki in the middle, knees folded under him. Mandy sat on his right, legs stretched out again, while Sekai settled on his left, leaning back on one hand casually.
Mandy reached for the cake box with a little “ta-da” gesture and opened it. He burst out laughing as soon as he lifted the lid. “Ahaha, look!” he said, pointing inside. “They gave us a candle! This is totally a birthday cake.”
There was a single candle stuck into the small plastic bag along with the cake.
Sekai laughed too, a low, warm sound. “Well, it was cheap,” he said, reaching for the candle. “Makes sense.”
Sekai opened the little plastic and stuck the candle right into the center of the cake. Then he dug into his pocket for a lighter, and flicked it on.
Taiki stared. “Why did you light it? We’re not celebrating anyone’s birthday.”
“It came as a set,” Sekai said, shrugging. “Feels like a waste not to use it. Besides… Isn’t Christmas about the birth of Jesus?”
Mandy nodded sagely, as if this was deep wisdom. Taiki couldn’t help but snort again. “I mean, I guess? But it looks ridiculous. Three guys seriously lighting a birthday candle on a convenience store cake at midnight.”
“Exactly,” Mandy said, grinning. He raised his hands dramatically. “Happy birthday, Jesus!”
Taiki burst out laughing. “You’re so stupid,” he said, but lifted his hand too without thinking, as if joining the toast. The three of them leaned forward at the same time and blew the candle out together.
The flame vanished, leaving a tiny trail of smoke curling up.
They laughed again, all at once. It was absurd. But it felt good.
Taiki took the knife, hands steadying as he focused on slicing the cake neatly. He carefully placed slices on each plate, passing one to Sekai and one to Mandy, keeping the last for himself.
He lifted his own fork and took the first bite just as his eyes slid to the clock on the wall.
12:00 AM.
“Ah,” he exhaled, cake still on his tongue. “Christmas is over.”
The words sounded flat for a second, but then he chewed, swallowed, and smiled softly. “Well, at least I got to take one bite of cake while it was still Christmas.”
The cake was simple but good—sweet, fluffy, creamy, with just enough sugar. It tasted like the kind of thing people bought for themselves when they needed comfort.
Sekai ate his own slice slowly, fork moving lazily. “Three guys eating cheap birthday cake on Christmas night,” he said, amusement curling his voice. “Sounds kind of ridiculous when you say it out loud.”
Taiki cracked open his can of beer with a sharp hiss. “But it’s fun,” he said, lifting it.
Mandy popped his own can open as well, raising it toward Taiki’s. “Cheers!”
“Cheers!” Taiki echoed, tapping his can against Mandy’s. He leaned toward Sekai a little, offering his can. Sekai lifted his bottle of cola in return.
They drank. The beer was cold and a little bitter, cutting through the sweetness of the cake in a way that felt strangely perfect. Mandy took another bite, cheeks puffed a bit.
“You guys are the best,” Mandy said, mouth half-full.
They drifted into quieter talk as they ate. The conversation rolling naturally toward EXILE, their place in it, the future.
“We’re the youngest ones. We have to work harder than everyone. But sometimes it feels like no one’s looking at us, you know?”
“Yeah,” Mandy agreed, nodding slowly. “The older members are already famous. They have names. We’re just… faces in the back most of the time.”
Taiki pressed his lips together. He thought about all the times he’d stood in formation, knowing that the camera probably wouldn’t even catch him properly. How he’d poured everything into a performance and still walked off stage wondering if anyone had really seen him.
“But we joined EXILE,” he said softly, more to himself than them. “We made it this far. There has to be more coming. Right?”
Mandy rolled the beer can between his palms. “We gotta make it come. Practice more, be ready for whatever chance we get. No one is going to hand it to us just because we’re in EXILE.”
Sekai leaned back on both hands, gaze on the ceiling. “You two already work hard. Just don’t stop. That’s all.”
Taiki watched his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the way his mouth relaxed when he wasn’t teasing or scolding. When Sekai said things like that, it felt different from anyone else saying them. Maybe because Sekai had been his teacher first. Maybe because he knew how far Taiki had come.
Time blurred a little after that. They talked, they laughed, they complained again about schedules and managers. The cake disappeared. The drinks slowly emptied. The clock moved quietly past midnight.
Eventually, Mandy stretched his arms high above his head, letting out a loud yawn. “Well then,” he said, voice thick with sleepiness. “That was fun. I’m going home before I pass out on your floor.”
Taiki smiled, heart full and warm. “Thank you for coming, Mandy-san.”
Mandy stood, picking up his jacket. “Anytime! Merry Christmas… or, well, whatever is left of it.”
“Merry Christmas!” Taiki replied, getting up to walk him to the door.
Sekai raised a hand in lazy farewell. “Night.”
The door shut behind Mandy with a soft click, and suddenly the apartment felt quieter again. But it was a different kind of quiet now—heavy with warmth instead of boredom.
Taiki wandered back into the living room. The low table was a mess of empty plates and cans. The cake box sat open and hollow. Sekai had picked his phone back up and was scrolling through it.
Taiki sat down beside him, closer than before. Without thinking too much about it, he leaned gently into Sekai’s shoulder, letting his weight rest there. Sekai didn’t even flinch. His shoulder was solid and warm, his hoodie soft against Taiki’s cheek.
Taiki rubbed his head lightly against him, the way a cat might. It felt childish, but he didn’t stop. His wavy blond hair tickled the underside of Sekai’s jaw.
“Taiki?” Sekai asked, glancing down.
“Mm,” Taiki hummed, not moving. His body felt pleasantly heavy from the food and beer, his mind fuzzy but clear enough to cling to this warmth.
He stared at the dark TV screen reflecting a faint, blurry version of them. The earlier conversation nipped at his thoughts again, the quiet returning unease.
“Do you think this will continue?” he asked suddenly, eyes focused on the cluttered table. “This… ‘we have a job but actually we’re kind of jobless’ thing. Because we’re not popular?”
His voice came out smaller than he intended. He tightened his fingers in the fabric of Sekai’s sleeve.
“Mandy-san has GENERATIONS. So he’ll be fine. But us…” The words trailed off, and he swallowed.
“Let’s hope not,” Sekai said. The hand holding the phone lowered, then he placed it face down on the table. When he turned toward Taiki, his face was calmer than Taiki felt. “Remember, Hiro-san said he wants to create a new group with us as leaders soon.”
Taiki blinked. He remembered that meeting, the way Hiro’s words had felt unreal. A new group. Them as leaders. It still felt like a dream half-remembered.
“We’ll have more opportunities to show ourselves,” Sekai said, voice steady. “It won’t always be like this.”
Taiki made a small humming noise, leaning more of his weight against him. The idea rolled around in his head, gathering emotion as it went.
Him, leading a group. Him, beside Sekai at the front. Side by side with the man whose classes he’d once nervously taken.
He pictured it—some future stage with blinding lights and blaring music. His chest tightened with a strange mix of nerves and excitement.
“I will lead a group together… with Sekai-san,” he said, testing the words out loud. They sounded almost silly. “Hehe…”
He felt Sekai shift beside him. For a second, he thought Sekai would just say something teasing and that would be it. But instead, the world suddenly tilted.
In one fluid movement, Sekai moved his arms around Taiki, and Taiki felt the floor against his back.
Sekai’s weight came down with him, warm and heavy in the best way. His hands slid around Taiki, one under his shoulder blades, the other at his side, wrapping him in a loose embrace that pinned him comfortably to the floor.
Taiki could feel Sekai’s body through the soft cotton of their clothes. The heat of his chest pressed to Taiki’s, the length of his legs tangled with Taiki’s own. His breath came a little shorter, not from running this time.
He looked up.
Sekai’s face hovered above his, close enough that Taiki could see every detail—the sharp line of his nose, the faint shadow under his eyes from too many late nights, the little mole near his lip. His eyes were dark and deep, steady on Taiki’s, as if he could see straight past his skin.
Taiki’s breath stuttered.
This man had been his teacher, standing in front of him in the studio mirror saying “again” until his legs shook. This man was his fellow EXILE member, bowing beside him under blinding stage lights. This man was his roommate, who yelled about the uncollected trash bags and shared leftover curry. And soon, maybe, his co-leader.
Sekai was his everything, all stacked on top of each other in ways Taiki still didn’t know how to untangle.
Always together, some quiet part of him whispered. Always.
The realization made something tremble quietly in his chest. His heartbeat thumped faster, loud in his own ears.
“What are you thinking about?” Sekai asked softly.
Taiki lifted a hand without thinking and placed it against Sekai’s cheek. The skin was warm, stubble faint under his fingertips. He brushed his thumb along the cheekbone slowly.
“I’m thinking… about what kind of group we’ll lead in the future,” he admitted. His voice came out barely above a whisper.
Sekai made a soft sound. “A good one, of course. Full of talented boys.”
Taiki smiled, thumb still tracing small circles. “Is there anyone talented enough to stand beside you?” he teased softly. “They’ll need to practice hard.”
“Oh they must.” Sekai’s hand shifted from Taiki’s side to his cheek, pinching it lightly. “You must practice too. Don’t get distracted with acting gigs.”
“Ow,” Taiki complained, but there was no real sting. Heat crept up his face anyway. “I’m not distracted! I practice dance properly,” he protested.
Taiki let out a breath and stared at the ceiling for a second.
“How many members will there be?” he wondered aloud. “How will the group be? What kind of concept will we have? Will we be successful? Will we stand in a dome someday…?”
The thought of standing in a dome under a sky of lights as people screamed their names made his chest tighten. His fingers curled slightly in the fabric of Sekai’s hoodie.
“Will there be an expensive cake every year for us to celebrate?” he finished with a little laugh, eyes shining. The image of a big, fancy cake with sparkling decorations, all of them gathered around it, flashed through his mind. A far cry from the simple stripes cake they had just devoured.
Sekai looked at him for a moment fondly. The intensity in his gaze didn’t scare Taiki anymore. It wrapped around him and pulled him in.
Then, without a word, Sekai lowered his head.
His lips met Taiki’s in a gentle press. For a heartbeat, Taiki’s mind blanked completely. His eyes widened before fluttering shut, the world narrowing to the feeling of that mouth against his.
Sekai’s lips tasted faintly like cola and cream. Heat rushing to his ears and down his neck. His fingers that had been gripping Sekai’s hoodie tightened, clutching at the fabric.
Taiki made a tiny gasp and then his body moved on its own. His lips responding shyly against Sekai, pushing back gently. The soft friction between them sent a shiver down his spine, made his toes curl.
When Sekai pulled away, it felt too soon. Taiki’s eyelids fluttered open. His lips tingled, his whole body thrummed with a mixture of nerves, excitement and… something he didn’t dare name out loud. Sekai’s face was still close, eyes steady on him.
“We will have a great group,” Sekai said, voice low but firm. “We’ll have fancy cake every year. We’ll be fine. Because we’re the leaders. You and me.”
The certainty in his words wrapped around Taiki like a blanket. For a second, he could see it—future Christmases, future cakes, future stages, future versions of them standing under bright lights together. It didn’t feel impossible when Sekai said it like that.
“As long as we’re leading the group together, it will be a fantastic group.” Sekai continued, smiling.
Taiki’s lips curved, the smile spreading from his mouth to his eyes.
“Mm,” he hummed, happiness blooming warm and bright in his chest.
The smile on his face shifted slowly. His gaze softened, then turned a little sly. He looked up from under his lashes, lips curving in a way he’d never show anyone on camera.
“Looks like I’ll be with you for a lot longer, sensei…” he murmured, letting the word roll off his tongue deliberately. “I hope you don’t get tired of dealing with me.”
Sekai snorted. “You already annoy me every day. What’s new?” then he narrowed his eyes. “Also, don’t call me ‘sensei’ at times like this.”
Taiki’s grin widened, a little wicked. “Sensei,” he repeated immediately, voice playful and soft. “Why not, sensei?”
“Taiki…” Sekai warned, but his voice had lost its usual sharp edge.
“Yes, sensei?” Taiki blinked up at Sekai with pure innocence that wasn’t innocent at all. Taiki widened his pupils deliberately, letting his lashes rise, showing the full roundness of his gaze. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Sekai’s mouth curved into a smirk, something darker flickering in his eyes. His hand moved, thumb brushing along Taiki’s lower lip.
“What a bad student,” he murmured.
Taiki’s breath caught. Heat pooled low in his stomach. Without breaking eye contact, he let his lips part just enough and slid his tongue out, flattening it softly against the tip of Sekai’s thumb. He closed his lips around it, sucking lightly.
A low sound rumbled in Sekai’s chest. Taiki felt the reaction like a spark straight down his spine. His heart hammered, but he didn’t look away.
The thumb slipped free as Sekai leaned down again, and this time the kiss was nothing like the first. It crashed into Taiki’s mouth with more urgency, lips pressing harder, moving with intent. His breath was stolen clean away. Taiki’s hands flew up, one gripping the back of Sekai’s hoodie, the other curling around his shoulder, needing something to hold onto as the world spun.
Their mouths moved together and deeper. Taiki parted his lips and let Sekai in, the taste of him flooding his senses.
He didn’t know how long they kissed like that, only dizzy rush in his head. At some point, he realized he was making breathless whimpers that slipped out between kisses, and that only made Sekai’s hands tighten on him.
Sekai’s lips left his for a moment, traveling along his jaw, pressing hot kisses there. Taiki shivered, head tipping back to give him more space without even thinking. When Sekai’s mouth found the spot just below his ear, Taiki’s breath hitched sharply. The kiss there was warm and slow at first. Then another suck, a little harder. Heat flared under his skin.
He was sure it would leave marks, but he didn’t care. The idea of carrying Sekai’s marks, hidden under his shirt and collar, made his chest twinged.
His hands slid from Sekai’s hoodie down to his back, fingers splaying against the fabric, feeling the lines of muscle beneath. Every inhale pressed their chests together, every exhale brushed warm air across his neck.
A hand slid under his T-shirt. Taiki sucked in a sharp breath, his stomach muscles fluttering under the unexpected touch. Sekai’s palm was warm as it spread over his abdomen, the heat seeping in and making his whole body feel hotter. The hand moved slowly, tracing lazy paths over his skin, over his ribs, up toward his chest.
“Mmm…”
Taiki let out a sweet sound, something like a mewl. He was surprised by the noise and yet unable to stop it.
“Mmm… Sensei…” he breathed, the word slipping out on a breathless whisper.
Sekai hummed against his skin, the vibration traveling from his lips directly into Taiki’s neck. The sensation made him shiver, made his fingers curl in the fabric at Sekai’s back. His legs shifted restlessly against the floor, searching for something, for closeness.
Without thinking, his legs moved, wrapping around Sekai’s hips, ankles crossing loosely at the small of his back. He pulled him closer, needing that weight, that heat, that proof that this wasn’t just in his head. Their bodies pressed together, chests rising and falling in uneven rhythm, the warmth between them growing.
They moved against each other in slow, clumsy shifts. Taiki’s breathing grew uneven, little gasps and quiet moans slipping out as Sekai’s mouth traveled around his neck and jaw. His fingers tangled in Sekai’s hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently, desperate to keep him close.
Sekai’s mouth returned to his lips after another particularly intense suck at his collarbone. Taiki sighed into him, opening readily. Their mouths met again and again, each kiss deeper, more insistent.
Taiki lost track of time, of everything except the taste of Sekai, and the feeling of being held so completely.
When Sekai finally broke the kiss, it was only to dip his head closer to Taiki’s ear. His lips brushed the shell of it as he spoke, voice low and rough, sending a direct shiver down Taiki’s spine.
“I’m looking forward to how many Christmases we’ll spend together from now on.”
The words sank into Taiki like warm water, seeping into all the cracks he’d been trying to ignore. His arms tightened around Sekai’s back, pulling him as close as he possibly could.
“Yeah…” Taiki whispered back, voice shaking with something he couldn’t hide. “Yeah. Me too.”
Taiki buried his face against Sekai’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him, letting the steady beat of Sekai’s heart calm the storm inside him.
They were still jobless, still the youngest, still unknown. Their future was still full of question marks. But with Sekai’s weight holding him down, with that promise whispered in the dark, Taiki suddenly believed that all those questions will have answers someday.
Taiki smiled, eyes closing.
They would lead a group together. They would work until their legs gave out. They would stand in domes. They would eat stupidly expensive cakes. And, most of all, they would spend Christmas after Christmas like this.
Together.
END