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It wasn’t that Iwaizumi disliked Christmas; in fact, he had grown up loving it. His mother had strung lights up across the bookshelves, wrapped green garland around the staircase banister, and they’d all decorated the tree together while taking periodic breaks to munch on the candy canes they were supposed to be hooking over the branches. Though they were always a bit more Western than most other families, their celebrations had been fantastic.
It was more that Iwaizumi dreaded his first Christmas after moving in with Oikawa in college. Oikawa’s family had celebrated Christmas, sure, but never to the extend that Iwaizumi’s had; there had always been some jealousy regarding the dedication Iwaizumi’s family practiced. Oikawa was always a man of extreme dedication, whether it be to his belief in aliens, his skills in volleyball, his (questionable) affections towards Iwaizumi, or his determination to have the “most festive Christmas we’ve ever had, Iwa-chan!”.
So waking up on the first of December to music, rustling sounds, and a suspiciously sprucey scent wafting through the air was not as surprising as it was concerning.
Iwaizumi frowned as he kicked the covers back and sat up in their king-sized bed (“only the best for the Grand King, Iwa-chan!”). His eyes narrowed as he fit his bare feet into fuzzy slippers and silently crept across their bedroom to the slightly ajar door. He cautiously poked his head out into the living room, and was floored by what he saw.
The stained yet comfortable couch they’d found for free on a street corner had been covered by some ill-fitting, red-and-green slip patterned with Christmas trees and red sleighs and God it even had working multi-colored lights. The coffee table they’d pilfered from Iwaizumi’s basement was covered in a plastic tablecloth with cartoonish Santas and red-nosed reindeer that looked like it belonged at some five year old’s party, and even Oikawa’s favorite Area 51 mug that held an assortment of writing utensils had been vandalized: the green-headed, bug-eyed alien had had a red Santa hat drawn on it with marker that would hopefully wash off (if it didn’t, Iwaizumi would never hear the end of it).
In front of the couch and coffee table sat an entertainment center and their measely TV. From the edge of the entertainment center hung sparkly green garland intertwined with green lights (where had Oikawa even found strings of exclusively green lights?) that was continued around the base of the TV and along its top edge. Strips of tape were visibly holding it there, as the screen was too thin to support it on its own. On the actual screen was literally a picture of a burning log, as if Iwaizumi had walked straight into a cheesy, Western, 20th-century Christmas movie.
The wall behind the TV had been covered in at least half a dozen wreaths of varying sizes and designs, and closer to the ceiling were white lights and more garland. Some of the wreaths were obviously made from real trees, as they seemed to be the source of the odor, and others were made of pinecones, recycled cans, strips of fabric--things that were definitely not intended for such purposes.
Looking to the tiny bookshelf they had (which was mostly full of books and magazines about volleyball and alien conspiracy theories) Iwaizumi was startled and deeply disturbed by a meter-long cutout of a realistic Santa head leaning innocently against the bottom two shelves. Strung across the top shelf was a banner that read “MERRY CHRISTMAS” in red-and-green block letters with, of course, more garland. On top of the bookshelf was a radio, its speakers playing jingle-bell-infused holiday music in both English and Japanese.
He didn’t get a chance to see their tiny kitchen and what sort of atrocities may have been committed upon it because his vision was completely filled with Oikawa and the stupid red Santa hat on his stupid head and his stupid smug grin.
“Good morning, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa greeted cheerfully with a little wave. “Do you like the decorations?”
Iwaizumi stared at his roommate for a few seconds, completely bewildered, while the anger slowly built up inside him. He had no doubt his face was turning redder by the second, and the idiot in front of him seemed to notice, too.
“Hm? What’s wrong, Iwa-chan? Your face is all red! You really love it that much, huh?” Oikawa asked, giggling like a stupid, annoying, not-at-all-cute elementary schooler. His question was answered with a swift and merciless smack on the head.
“What the hell is all this?!” Iwaizumi demanded, gesturing to the entire living room. “How much did all of this cost? Where did you even get it? When, exactly, did you find the time to not only buy it, but put it all up? It’s eight in the morning on a Monday; we don’t even have class today! And why did you think it was a good idea to put a giant Santa face in our apartment? You couldn’t at least wait until later in the month? It’s only the first! What the hell, Shittykawa?!”
The loud barrage of questions left Iwaizumi temporarily out of breath and panting as he waited angrily for an answer. Much to his indescribable rage, the asshat he lived with just laughed and spun around like a girl showing off a new outfit.
“It’s great, I know! I got a lot of it from that thrift store a few train stops away, so it was really cheap! Some of it also came from that lady who lives on the second floor; her husband just died, and he was really into Christmas things, but she wasn’t, so she gave it all to me! The giant Santa head came from a dumpster behind a restaurant; I just happened to find it while out one day! I had to wake up early to get some of the decorating done before you woke up. I wanted it to be a surprise! I just couldn’t wait any longer!” Oikawa explained it with enthusiasm that Iwaizumi had never before seen in any human being so early on a Monday morning. He also appeared to be holding something in his hand, but it was small enough to be easily concealed from view. Iwaizumi eyed his curled fingers suspiciously.
“Looking for this, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked, noticing the other’s line of sight and smirking mischievously. He opened his hand and revealed small leaves and white berries.
“...Is that what I think it is?” Iwaizumi asked, preparing to back away. His family had had this too, but he’d been so young he’d never been forced to participate in its terrible tradition. He raised his lips, about to protest, but was cut off by Oikawa’s smothering them with his own.
While he initially wanted to protest, Iwaizumi knew there was no way for him to deny liking Oikawa’s kisses. After a second that seemed to last forever he accepted his fate and allowed his eyes to close before returning the kiss. It only lasted a few seconds more.
When Oikawa pulled his head back, his cheeks were slightly flushed and his eyes sparkled. “It’s exactly what you think it is, Iwa-chan! Now move over and let me hang it up!”
His mood lightened some, Iwaizumi grumbled something about an ass before stepping aside and letting the mistletoe be taped to the door frame. He noticed, at that moment, that Oikawa was wearing what had to be the ugliest sweater ever created; it was some hideous shade of excrement green, for starters, and was covered in poorly-knitted Christmas trees and ball-shaped ornaments and even had a large blob of pink and white that was probably supposed to be Santa.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Iwaizumi asked in a flat, emotionless voice. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care that much at that point.
Oikawa looked down at himself as if he was bashful or something. “Oh, this? I found it at the thrift store where I bought the decorations! I think it really matches the theme, don’t you, Iwa-chan?”
There was a moment of silence (mostly for Oikawa’s dignity) before Iwaizumi slammed the bedroom door shut on his face, ignoring the cry of pain and protest he heard in response.
Iwaizumi had thought things would stop where they did that fateful Monday; he’d thought Oikawa would decorate the living room, wear a truly despicable sweater, steal some mistletoe kisses, and leave everything until Christmas (and on the 26th Iwaizumi would be taking it all down).
How wrong he was.
When he woke up a week later on the the eighth of December, the first thing he noticed was how weird his face felt. The second was that his head was really hot. The third was that a certain soon-to-be-dead brunette was snickering and taking photos next to him.
Judging from the proximity of the giggles, Iwaizumi was able to determine that Oikawa was less than two feet away, still lying down, and taking pictures with his phone. Based on this information he was able to remove his arm from under the covers and strike like a cobra despite his drowsiness, aiming for the phone (or Oikawa’s face, whichever happened to be closer). Unfortunately, Oikawa (who would be doubtlessly sleeping on the newly-Christmased couch) was too quick, moving the phone out of reach.
“Morning, Iwa-chan!” he greeted, failing to hold back hysterical giggles. “You look lovely!”
Still not entirely sure what had been done to him, Iwaizumi groped around his face and head. Something furry was attached to his chin by an elastic string, and there was some sort of hat nearly falling off of his head. Oikawa, that absolute piece of shit, had dressed him like Santa Claus while he slept.
“Oikawa…” he growled, cracking an eye open. “Would you kindly explain yourself before I kick your ass?”
“Aah, Iwa-chan is scary!” Oikawa exclaimed, rolling out of reach. “I just thought you weren’t getting into the Christmas spirit enough, so I decided to help you!” He then dissolved into more laughter and took another picture.
“I’ll kill you, Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi declared before launching out of bed at his roommate.
It was later that same December eighth when Iwaizumi found a limping Oikawa (courtesy of the beard and hat stunt) standing in the newly-decorated kitchen. It looked about as horrible as the living room, complete with garland over the stove that was an obvious fire hazard, but there were surprisingly pleasant smells coming from the oven.
“What are you making?” Iwaizumi asked warily, leaning against the entryway and crossing his arms. “Should I be concerned?”
Oikawa, wearing a much more attractive, form-fitting red sweater, spun around and smiled.
“Gingerbread men!” he exclaimed. “We can make one of us, and the team, and even Tobio-chan!” He looked absolutely gleeful as he bounced over to Iwaizumi, the bruise on his leg not seeming to bother him.
“Do we have stuff to decorate them?” Iwaizumi wondered, looking around the kitchen. They had two cupboards and about half a pantry, and he couldn’t remember buying frosting or anything of the sort.
“Well… no, we don’t, so we’ll just have to use our imaginations, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, not looking disappointed by the prospect. As he continued to move closer Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, wondering if he should be suspicious, but then he noticed Oikawa eyeing something above his head. More mistletoe.
“Didn’t you already hang some of this by the bedroom?” he asked with no real annoyance in his voice.
“You can never have too much mistletoe, Iwa-chan!”
The kiss tasted like gingerbread and candy canes and the cookies ended up slightly singed because Oikawa had forgotten to set a timer and couldn’t be bothered to check on them. He had more important things to do.
Yet another week later, on the fifteenth of December, Iwaizumi was starting to wonder where exactly Oikawa had gotten so much mistletoe. There was some hanging in the doorway to their bedroom, in the entrance to the kitchen, and even some above the front door. He had been ambushed no less than ten times, and though he wasn’t exactly complaining, he was slightly bewildered.
He considered this as he walked home from his last final, which had been in Physics. Despite the class being on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, the final had been on Monday. He’d never understand his professor.
Iwaizumi felt like he’d done okay, at least passed, even though his studying had been constantly interrupted by a certain stupid setter. He wasn’t concerned with his grade in the class, and was able to walk home with a light heart and even a smile.
It had been snowing non-stop all day, and it had accumulated on anything that held still for longer than an hour. Though it was only a couple centimeters, it gave everything a magical sort of atmosphere, like they lived in a Christmas-themed snow globe, given all the decorations put up by shops and restaurants. It made what Oikawa was doing seem slightly less ridiculous, but only just. The previous day Iwaizumi had walked into the bathroom to find the toilet seat covered in festive stickers and a pointsetta plant on the tank. Oikawa had even spent a heartbreaking amount of money on a real Christmas tree for them to decorate (though it was only about three feet tall and already missing so many needles that it looked a bit pathetic).
Luckily, now that their winter break had officially started, he could keep an eye on Oikawa all the time to make sure he didn’t get up to any more Christmas shenanigans. (Iwaizumi swore that if he found plastic holly leaves in his cereal box one more time he’d go on a homicidal rampage.) Though they weren’t all terrible.
The gingerbread cookies they’d made hadn’t been horrible, even though they had burned a little and Oikawa had done some fairly disturbing things with the cookie he’d decided was Kageyama. The Christmas music was only annoying after several hours, and they’d had sing a longs a couple times that had made them both smile and laugh like children. Oikawa also made excellent peppermint hot chocolate by stirring it with a candy cane.
Overall, Iwaizumi decided, Christmas living with Oikawa wasn’t as bad as it had at first seemed.
When he arrived at their apartment, he unlocked the door swiftly; Oikawa was due to be taking his last final, too, in Chemistry, and thus wouldn’t be home. Slipping the key back into his pocket, Iwaizumi swung the door open and was surprised at what greeted him.
Oikawa stood in the doorway grinning widely and wearing yet another ugly sweater. Before any words were spoken he leaned out into the hallway and, pointing to yet more mistletoe hanging above his head, pulled Iwaizumi into a kiss.
The initial shock wore off quickly as Iwaizumi gladly reciporicated, feeling his scarf being tugged away from his neck. Once it had been fully unwound his heavy jacket was unzipped and pulled off. He accused Oikawa of being particularly excited when he felt lips against his neck just under his jaw.
Oikawa hummed. “It’s just cold outside, is all. I wanted to warm you up, Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi figured he must’ve done particularly well on his last final by the way he was all but dragged into the apartment, mistletoe falling to the floor as the door was closed behind them.
Nine o’clock on Christmas Eve found Iwaizumi and Oikawa sitting on their Christmasified couch under a Christmas blanket sipping hot chocolate and watching old animated Christmas specials. The original Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was proving to be particularly riveting. The couple had spent the better part of the day in a similiar position.
“What did you get me for Christmas, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked during a commercial break, looking up from where his head rested on Iwaizuki’s shoulder.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Iwaizumi responded, taking a drink of his hot chocolate and smiling. In truth he’d gotten his boyfriend a number of things, but several of them had failed to ship on time. It seemed as though they would be having an extended holiday.
“But I wanna know now!” Oikawa insisted childishly, bringing his knees up to his chest and rubbing his nose on Iwaizumi’s neck.
“Not a chance,” Iwaizumi promised, not at all phased by the immature behavior. “Christmas is technically less than four hours away; surely even you can wait that long.”
“Does that mean we get to exchange presents at midnight?” Oikawa asked excitedly, to which Iwaizumi just shrugged.
“If you want to stay awake that long and have nothing to do all morning, sure.” He didn’t have any preference as to when they opened their presents; in all honesty, he was a bit apprehensive about opening his presents from Oikawa. Knowing him he’d probably end up with underwear with aliens on them or some other gag gift.
“Yay~” Oikawa crooned softly. He peppered soft kisses along Iwaizumi’s neck and eventually Iwaizumi turned his head down so their lips could meet. They stayed like that well into the resumption of the movie. They only stopped when they realized their hot chocolate ha gotten cold, and they only realized this after Oikawa had forgotten he’d been holding his and spilled it all over them.
“Dammit, Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi had exclaimed. Luckily, most of the drink had fallen onto the blanket and not them, but it had still ruined the mood. They’d grabbed the blanket and threw it over the shower curtain rod to drip and dry; when they did laundry in a week or so they’d wash it. Oikawa had grabbed Iwaizumi by the shirt as they’d exited the bathroom and kissed him under the mistletoe he’d hung at some point. This was the third such attack that day. Once that was done, they (meaning Iwaizumi) washed their mugs and grabbed a couple leftover gingerbread men. They watched the last few minutes of Rudolph feeding each other bits of cookie (though Iwaizumi would never admit it).
On TV for the rest of the night were other Western Christmas shows. Oikawa grabbed an old, dust-smelling quilt from their storage closet and draped it over their bodies as they settled down to watch them. Two hours passed in relative quiet; the last show ended just before midnight. When the TV was turned off, the only light came from the Christmas lights strung up around the room and the street lamps outside. The tiny world of their apartment glowed softly with holiday cheer and a giant Santa face.
“It’s almost Christmas, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered at 11:58. “Are you excited?”
Iwaizumi smiled and whispered, “A little. Are you?” Speaking at a normal volume felt wrong, like it would shatter the magical atmosphere surrounding them.
“Of course! I have a feeling it’s going to be the best ever.” There was clear drowsiness in his eyes, in both their eyes; they wouldn’t be staying up to exchange presents, that much was clear.
“That is what you said at the beginning of the month, so I hope you’re right,” Iwaizumi said, running his fingers through Oikawa’s hair. Though they couldn’t see each other very well, the Christmas lights reflected in Oikawa’s eyes at 11:59 and Iwaizumi thought he looked kind of beautiful.
Seconds before the hour rolled over and it officially became Christmas morning, Oikawa reached into his pants pocket and pulled something out. On the dot, he held up mistletoe.
“Where do you keep getting this stuff?” Iwaizumi asked, still whispering but awed. “This is the fourth time today!”
“Stop complaining, Iwa-chan, you know you love it,” Oikawa whispered in a mischievous voice. He held up the bunch of leaves and berries over their heads. Iwaizumi moved his hand to the back of Oikawa’s neck and kissed him. Oikawa gradually shifted closer and closer until he was basically in Iwaizumi’s lap, quilt on the floor. It was a few minutes into Christmas morning when they broke apart.
“Is that what you got me, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked breathlessly, drawing meaningless shapes with his fingers across his lover’s chest. “A kiss on Christmas morning?”
“That’s not the only thing,” Iwaizumi mumbled in response, slightly embarassed by Oikawa’s words. “There’s other stuff.”
Oikawa sighed, but it was a happy sort of sigh, followed by a quiet chuckle. “There doesn’t need to be. All I need to be happy is you, Iwa-chan.” He rested his head in the nook below Iwaizumi’s.
Now blushing and deeply pleased, Iwaizumi rested one hand on Oikawa’s back and let the other card through his hair. He gently kissed the top of his head.
“I love you too, Oikawa,” he said quietly. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered.
They fell asleep like that on the couch and slept well past noon. Upon waking up, neither really had the motivation to get up and get the other’s presents, so they stayed like that, whispering things to each other even when the magic of their first Christmas Eve together had faded.