Summary: These evenings were always joyous. The nine of them crammed themselves into one unlucky soul’s home to drink and exchange gifts. Originally, they bought gifts for everyone but, after having too many overlapping presents, they scaled it down. One gift for one person that would be chosen from the cup of doom, as Hikaru liked to put it.
Notes: Nearly didn't make it, but I wanted to write something short and sweet. Especially since it is the holiday season for a lot of us! Originally started as a random idea from alchemicink a couple of months ago and saved it specifically for Christmas. Enjoy~
An explosion of laughter surrounds them, filling Yamada’s living room with a joyous, full sound. How could it not? Especially with the way Yamada looks, brows furrowed in hefty confusion as he scoops up square after square of bubble wrap until he turns the box upside down, not so much as a grain of sand falling from it. The bubble wrap lays forgotten around him as he seeks out the only person not laughing, a toothy grin spread across his face.
“Where did you hide my gift, Hikaru-kun?” he said.
“You seemed so stressed recently with your drama shooting and now you’re prepping for a new movie,” Hikaru said, fighting back the urge to laugh. “I wanted to give you something to relieve it a little.”
Yamada blinked once, then twice before slumping down in his seat. “Asshole. And I worked so hard on my gift.”
“You did a nice job, Yama-chan,” Yuto said, patting his shoulder. His new camera backpack was nestled between his feet. He had spent a better part of the evening opening and closing every compartment, studying which sections could hold the different parts of his camera.
It happened every year. Whoever had the grave misfortune of having Hikaru as their Secret Santa was bound by the rules of gift giving to receive a gift that was considerate, but not in the way they wanted. Every year it was as if all of them cross their fingers and pray that they weren’t the one chosen.
These evenings were always joyous. The nine of them crammed themselves into one unlucky soul’s home to drink and exchange gifts. Originally, they bought gifts for everyone but, after having too many overlapping presents, they scaled it down. One gift for one person that would be chosen from the cup of doom, as Hikaru liked to say.
They had all received their fair share of gifts both grand and small. Yuto had gone out and photographed beaches and bound them into a book for Takaki. Chinen had wrapped up a pair of scissors for Keito and, before the older boy had a moment to question the authenticity of his gift, Chinen had pulled out two tickets to a concert Keito had wanted to see.
“Take someone you like,” Chinen said, giving him a wink.
Keito had choked out a thank you, face turning red, as the entire room laughed.
“Yabu, it’s your turn,” Daiki said. He picked up the last gift under the tree and tossed it to him.
With the grace and skill of a car accident, Yabu fumbled the present before mastering a firm grip on it. “Uh, I hope it isn’t broken now.”
“Let me check,” Inoo snatched the present from his hands, shook it a few times, and returned it. “Sounds fine to me.”
Keeping an eye on Inoo, he slowly unwrapped it to reveal a box. In the box was a mug with four lines of text. It was meant to read “world’s greatest father” but they had butchered the spelling of father, crossed it out, and wrote the correct spelling underneath.
“This is nice,” he said. He held the mug firmly in his hands and looked across the room to Keito, the only person unclaimed for their Secret Santa game. “Where is my real gift?”
The entire room grew quiet.
“Wait, this is my real gift?” Yabu asked. He looked down at his mug. It was nice, practical even, but if carried it around the office he’d get weird looks. He was only twenty-six after all. He was far too young to have kids as an idol.
Yamada coughed. “I think I can speak for Keito on this,” he said. “He asked us for help on what to get you, and this was something we all agreed he should get you.”
Yabu blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Daiki spoke up. “From the very beginning you helped all of us. You kept us in line, made sure we weren’t slacking on our school work.”
“Even if some of us dropped out,” Takaki said.
“Or drew funny pictures on it instead of answering the questions…especially if they weren’t ours,” Hikaru said. He nudged Yuto. “Still sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Yuto said. “My teacher said they were pretty drawings anyways.”
“You were the leader figure we needed when our entire would was slowly turning upside down,”Inoo said.
“And you grounded all of us into reality when things god a little bit hectic,” Chinen piped up. “Even for the youngest of us.”
“You may not be my actual dad, but you’re one of the greatest father figures I know,” Keito finally said. “And we all wanted you to have something that showed it.”
“Wait, are you crying?”
“No,” Yabu said, trying to wipe away the tears that continued to fall. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. “
He wasn’t sure who started it, but before he knew it eight warm bodies were wrapped around him in a group hug, and someone whispered in his ears.
“Merry Christmas Yabu.”