Chapter Text
Karma slouched further into the bench, his arms crossed and his eyes half-lidded as he watched a group of kids playing nearby, their shrill laughter echoing in the cold December air. They were throwing snowballs and screaming “Christmas!” like it was the second coming of Christ himself, and honestly, it was grating on his last nerve.
He’d never gotten the hype, not even as a kid. While other kids had been chirping about Santa and presents and whatever other nonsense their parents filled their heads with, Karma had been sitting in the corner, rolling his eyes. Santa wasn’t real—obviously. And even if he had been, he’d clearly skipped over Karma’s house every year. No presents under the tree. No tree at all, really. Just his parents either too busy or too indifferent to care, treating December 25th like any other day of the week.
It wasn’t bitterness, really. It was just reality. Christmas wasn’t some magical, snow-dusted day of joy and warmth. It was just him, the TV, and a cup of instant noodles. Watching Home Alone because why not. It was funny watching Kevin destroy those burglars with a paint can. That kid had issues, though, and it was kind of a miracle he hadn’t turned into a serial killer.
So when Karma had woken up this morning tangled in the uncomfortable heat of Asano’s arms, the thought of the day being his birthday hadn’t even crossed his mind. Why would it? The jerk had practically been born to ignore anything not immediately beneficial to him. Karma hadn’t expected anything.
And yet, Asano had remembered.
The thought made him frown, which was counterproductive because frowning just made his face colder. His chest felt tight, and not in the way that usually came from running into Asano’s impossibly high expectations or dealing with his father’s occasional visits. No, this was something else, and it annoyed Karma more than anything.
Why did it matter? So Asano remembered. Big deal. He didn’t have to turn it into a whole thing.
Still, there was something about the way Asano had said it this morning. That gruff, irritated tone he used to mask any real feelings. The way he’d pulled Karma closer, muttered “Happy birthday” like it was a curse, and then left a hickey that was still itching Karma’s neck under his scarf. It was just… stupid.
Karma sighed, glaring at his boots as the snow piled up around them. Maybe it was the dizziness messing with him. Or maybe it was the fact that Asano—perfect, uptight, insufferable Asano—had actually bothered to give a damn, even in his own cold, biting way.
A sharp voice broke through his thoughts, snapping him out of his spiral.
“Here.”
Karma looked up to find Asano standing over him, holding out a convenience store bag with all the grace of someone handing off a ticking time bomb. His expression was flat, but his cheeks were pink from the cold—or maybe from irritation.
“Are you gonna eat, or do I have to shove it down your throat?” Asano said, his voice sharp as ever.
Karma smirked, pushing himself upright with a wince. “Gee, thanks for the heartfelt birthday gift. I’ll treasure it forever.”
Asano rolled his eyes, shoving the bag into Karma’s hands. “Just eat before you pass out again, idiot.”
Karma rifled through the bag and pulled out a sandwich. Not his favorite, but whatever. He took a bite and made a show of chewing obnoxiously loudly. “Mmm, tastes like grudging concern. You shouldn’t have.”
“Shut up,” Asano snapped, sitting down beside him with a sigh. “You’re impossible.”
Karma grinned, leaning back on the bench. “And yet, here you are.”
They sat there in silence for a moment, the snow falling softly around them. The kids were still screaming, the air was still freezing, and Karma still felt a little lightheaded—but somehow, it wasn’t all bad.
Maybe Christmas wasn’t that stupid after all.
+++
Asano walked with brisk, measured steps, one hand tucked into the pocket of his impeccably tailored winter coat and the other wrapped tightly around Karma’s mittened hand. He wasn’t holding it because he wanted to, obviously. He was holding it because the idiot had nearly keeled over on a park bench not five minutes ago, and Asano had no interest in having to scrape Karma’s annoying, scrawny ass off the pavement.
The bakery wasn’t far, but with Karma’s tendency to wander off, trip over nothing, or get into unnecessary trouble, it might as well have been a trek across the Arctic. Asano’s grip on Karma’s hand tightened as he felt the boy start to lag behind, clearly distracted by some meaningless nonsense.
“Hurry up,” Asano snapped, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder. “If you collapse in the middle of the street, I’m leaving you there.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Karma drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re such a knight in shining armor.”
Asano rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to smack him upside the head. “I don’t have time to babysit you today. Keep up.”
Karma didn’t respond, but Asano could feel the faint tug of resistance in his hand. The idiot was probably smirking, thinking he’d gotten under Asano’s skin. He hadn’t. Not even a little.
When they finally reached the bakery, Asano all but shoved Karma through the door, the warm air inside hitting him like a wall. The scent of freshly baked bread and sugary pastries was overwhelming, but not unpleasant.
Karma immediately wandered off toward the display case, his golden eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. Asano stayed near the door, arms crossed, watching him with a mix of annoyance and something he refused to acknowledge as fondness.
“You’re not seriously buying that, are you?” Asano asked, his voice dripping with disdain as Karma pointed to the most garishly decorated strawberry cake in the case.
“Why not?” Karma shot back, grinning like the smug little shit he was. “It’s my birthday. I deserve cake.”
“You deserve a muzzle,” Asano muttered under his breath, but he followed Karma to the counter anyway, pulling out his wallet with a resigned sigh.
As the cashier boxed up the cake, Karma turned to Asano, his grin widening. “Aw, you’re buying my birthday cake? That’s so sweet of you, Shuu-chan.”
“Call me that again, and I’ll shove your face into the snow,” Asano said flatly, handing over the money with a glare.
Karma laughed, the sound annoyingly genuine. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, you know that?”
Asano didn’t dignify that with a response, instead grabbing the cake box and turning toward the door. “Let’s go before you make this more embarrassing than it already is.”
As they stepped back out into the cold, Karma reached for Asano’s hand again, his mitten still tucked in his pocket. Asano sighed but didn’t pull away, his fingers curling around Karma’s slender hand once more.
“You’re being clingy,” Asano muttered, not bothering to hide his irritation.
“You’re being uptight,” Karma shot back, grinning as he leaned slightly into Asano’s side.
Asano huffed, his cheeks pink from the cold—or so he told himself—and tightened his grip. The idiot was still dizzy, after all. If anyone asked, that was the only reason.
+++
The rink was small, dimly lit, and utterly devoid of charm, just as Asano preferred it. No Christmas decorations cluttering the place, no loud carols blaring through the speakers, and—most importantly—no crowds. It wasn’t exactly a luxury venue, but it was functional and out of the way, which made it perfect for avoiding unwanted attention. Particularly the kind of attention that could travel halfway across the country and reach his father.
Asano glanced at Karma, who was already lacing up a pair of rental skates with a smug expression plastered across his face. “You’re going to fall on your ass within ten seconds,” Asano stated flatly, tugging at his own skates.
“Oh, please,” Karma drawled, his tone as insufferable as ever. “I’ll be skating circles around you, Mr. Perfect. Try not to cry when I leave you in the dust.”
“You can’t leave me in the dust when you’re eating the ice,” Asano retorted, standing up and wobbling slightly as he adjusted to the awkward weight of the skates. He immediately shot Karma a glare when he noticed the other boy smirking.
“Aw, first time on skates, Shuu-chan?” Karma teased, his golden eyes glittering with amusement.
Asano rolled his eyes. “Keep talking, Akabane. The first thing I’m going to do is push you into the wall.”
Karma just laughed, already making his way toward the rink with an exaggerated saunter, his balance surprisingly decent. Asano followed with measured steps, refusing to look as awkward as he felt.
The moment they stepped onto the ice, however, all pretense of dignity went out the window.
Karma wobbled immediately, his arms flailing as he grabbed onto the side railing for dear life. Asano, on the other hand, managed to stay upright, but only by gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Wow,” Karma said, breathless from laughter. “You look like a baby deer. Where’s all that arrogance now?”
Asano ignored him, focusing instead on finding his balance. He pushed off the railing slightly, gliding forward a few inches before his skates caught at an awkward angle, sending him stumbling.
Karma burst out laughing again, finally letting go of the railing to skate—well, more like shuffle—a few feet forward. “This is great. I’ve never seen you look so human before.”
“Shut up,” Asano snapped, but there was no real bite in his voice. He shoved himself forward again, this time managing to stay upright, though it was far from graceful.
Karma, emboldened by his own progress, attempted to pick up speed—and promptly lost his balance, landing on his hands and knees with a loud thud.
Asano skated over with painstaking slowness, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. “Skating circles around me, huh?”
“Shut it,” Karma muttered, glaring up at him. “You’re next, jerk.”
“Doubtful,” Asano replied, offering a hand. Karma took it, but as soon as he was upright, he gave Asano a hard shove, sending him sliding backward and barely managing to stay on his feet.
“See? You’re worse than me,” Karma said with a wicked grin, pushing off again and wobbling his way forward.
Asano huffed, following after him with more determination than grace. “If you keep that up, I really will throw you into the wall.”
“Big words for someone who can barely stand,” Karma taunted, turning his head to smirk—only to stumble again and nearly faceplant.
Asano reached out, grabbing Karma by the arm to steady him, but not without muttering, “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re a control freak,” Karma shot back, though he didn’t pull away.
They continued like that for the next half hour, shoving each other, trading insults, and narrowly avoiding disaster. By the time they finally decided to leave the rink, both of them were sore, exhausted, and thoroughly annoyed—but neither would admit they’d had fun.
“You’re terrible at this,” Asano said as they sat on a bench, unlacing their skates.
“You’re worse,” Karma replied, smirking. “But thanks for the hand-holding. It was very romantic.”
“Don’t make me regret not letting you fall,” Asano muttered, standing up and grabbing his shoes.
Karma grinned, following him out into the cold with his usual swagger, their bickering echoing down the empty street.
+++
By the time they reached Karma’s penthouse, the city skyline had disappeared into a curtain of night, the snow-dusted streets below glowing faintly under the flickering streetlights. Karma pushed open the door with a theatrical groan, tossing his scarf onto the nearest surface with zero care for where it landed. Asano followed with measured steps, closing the door behind them and locking it with a definitive click.
“Turn the heat on, would you?” Karma called, already trudging toward the mountain of blankets he’d left strewn across the sofa.
Asano rolled his eyes but obliged, his fingers deftly adjusting the thermostat. “You know, for someone who supposedly loves the cold, you’re ridiculously quick to crank the heater up to tropical levels.”
Karma flopped onto the couch with a lazy grin, his hair a mess of static and his golden eyes glinting in the low light. “Loving the cold doesn’t mean I want to freeze to death, Shuu. It just means I enjoy watching you suffer in it.”
“Charming,” Asano deadpanned, shedding his coat and draping it neatly over the back of a chair. “You’re lucky I didn’t leave you to faceplant on that ice rink.”
Karma snorted, tugging the nearest blanket over his lap. “Oh, please. You’re just terrified of the paperwork involved if I die.”
Asano didn’t dignify that with a response, instead walking over to the living room and flicking off the lights. The darkness that settled over them was soft and warm, broken only by the faint glow of the city outside.
“Blankets,” Asano demanded, tugging at the edge of the pile Karma had cocooned himself in.
“Get your own,” Karma retorted, clutching them tighter like a child protecting his toys.
Asano sighed, exasperated, but managed to wrestle his way under the heap, his movements sharp and deliberate as he elbowed Karma in the side.
“Hey!” Karma squawked, shoving back. “Watch it, jerk!”
“Stop hogging the blankets, and maybe I will,” Asano shot back, his voice clipped but not entirely devoid of amusement.
They bickered for a few more minutes, their elbows and knees jabbing and tangling as they fought for dominance over the pile of fabric. Eventually, though, exhaustion won out, and they settled into a begrudging truce, lying side by side beneath the towering heap of warmth.
The heater hummed softly in the background, filling the room with a steady, comforting heat. Asano was just beginning to drift off when he felt it—a pair of suspiciously cold palms pressing against his skin, startling him awake.
“What the—” he started, but the words died in his throat when he realized it was Karma, his icy hands sneaking under Asano’s shirt to wrap around his midriff.
“What are you doing?” Asano demanded, his voice low and annoyed.
“Warming up,” Karma replied simply, his tone far too casual for someone committing blatant boundary violations. He pressed his head against Asano’s chest, his hair tickling the other boy’s chin.
“You’re like a leech,” Asano muttered, his arms instinctively rising to push Karma off—but then he caught the faint shimmer of golden eyes staring up at him in the darkness, wide and uncharacteristically vulnerable.
“Thanks, Shuu,” Karma mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in it hit Asano harder than any of his sarcastic barbs ever could.
Asano’s mouth shut with an audible click, his usual arsenal of biting remarks suddenly useless. He didn’t know what to say—or if he even needed to say anything at all. Instead, he let out a quiet huff, his hand moving almost involuntarily to rest against the back of Karma’s head.
“Idiot,” he muttered, his voice softer than usual as he pressed a kiss into Karma’s hair.
Karma didn’t respond, but the way he nestled closer, his breaths evening out as sleep began to claim him, said more than words ever could.
They lay there in silence, the city outside muffled by the warmth of the penthouse and the steady hum of the heater. Asano’s arms tightened around Karma slightly, his usual irritation tempered by something he couldn’t quite name but wasn’t ready to examine.
For now, though, it didn’t matter. They’d go back to their usual sniping and shoving tomorrow. But tonight, beneath the mountain of blankets and the glow of the city, they rested in an uneasy, unspoken truce, the kind only they could share.
+++
Asano sighed, feeling the weight of Karma shift against him as the little idiot burrowed further into his chest like some kind of clingy housecat. The golden eyes peeking up at him were infuriatingly bright, even in the dim glow of the room. He should’ve been irritated—should’ve been—but there was something about the moment that made it impossible to muster his usual disdain.
He let out a long breath, his fingers brushing through the mess of red hair resting against him. “Come here, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing as he tilted Karma’s chin up with two fingers. “Happy birthday.”
Karma’s lips parted in surprise, his cheeks flushing just enough to be noticeable in the dim light. Before he could spit out some sarcastic response, Asano leaned down and kissed him, effectively shutting him up.
It was a slow, deliberate kiss—not the awkward, fumbling ones they’d shared in stolen moments before. Asano pressed just hard enough to make sure Karma felt every ounce of control he had in this situation. When he pulled back, he smirked at the dazed look on Karma’s face, though it only lasted a second before the redhead’s usual shit-eating grin returned.
“Wow,” Karma said, voice dripping with mockery. “That was so romantic, Shuu. I think I might cry.”
Asano’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he rolled his eyes and smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll cry soon enough.”
Before Karma could register the meaning, Asano dipped his head again, this time aiming for the pale column of Karma’s neck. The little shit yelped in protest, squirming like his life depended on it, but Asano had already locked him in place, his arms like a vice around Karma’s waist.
“Shuu, no! I swear—”
The words turned into a strangled gasp as Asano sucked sharply at the base of his neck, ensuring the mark would be as obnoxiously visible as possible. Karma’s hands clawed at his shoulders in weak protest, but it was all for show.
“You’re such a—ugh—petty jerk!” Karma spat, his voice wavering between annoyance and something else Asano didn’t care to name.
“Stop squirming, or I’ll make it worse,” Asano replied, his tone casual but laced with enough malice to keep Karma frozen in place for a second too long.
By the time Asano pulled back, he was admiring the deep red bruise forming against Karma’s pale skin. Karma shoved him in the shoulder, his face now sporting an impressive combination of irritation and mortification.
“You’re ridiculous,” Karma huffed, glaring at him.
“And you’re mine,” Asano said smoothly, leaning back against the pillows with an air of satisfaction.
Karma rolled his eyes, his fingers brushing over the fresh hickey as if debating whether to strangle Asano or let it go. Eventually, he settled for leaning back against Asano’s chest with a muttered, “Jerk.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Asano replied, draping an arm over Karma’s shoulders as if to claim victory in their ongoing battle of wits.
As they settled back into the blankets, the heater humming softly in the background, Asano allowed himself a small, smug smile. Karma might be an insufferable little shit, but at least he was his insufferable little shit.
+++
Karma let out a hiss of surprise, jerking slightly as Asano's teeth grazed his neck again. His golden eyes narrowed, glaring up at the smug bastard looming over him.
“Ow, jerk,” Karma snapped, pressing his fingers to the fresh bruise forming on his neck. “Do you even know how to be gentle?”
Asano smirked, tilting his head in mock contemplation. “I could be gentle,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “But where’s the fun in that?”
Before Karma could fire back, Asano leaned in again, his lips latching onto a new spot just below the first hickey. This time, the pressure was firmer, the pull sharper, and Karma’s breath hitched audibly. He bit back a gasp, determined not to give Asano the satisfaction, but his fingers curled reflexively into the sheets beneath them.
“Shuu—seriously!” Karma growled, swatting at Asano’s shoulder.
“Hold still,” Asano said, his voice muffled against Karma’s skin. “This one’s going to be even bigger.”
Karma groaned in frustration, his head falling back against the pillow as he resigned himself to his fate. “You’re such a possessive asshole,” he muttered.
“And you’re still here,” Asano replied smoothly, pulling back to admire his handiwork. The dark, angry bruise stood out starkly against Karma’s pale skin, a mark as obnoxious as Asano had intended.
Karma glared at him, his lips curling into a sneer. “You know, normal people use words to show they care. Not… whatever this is.”
“Normal people aren’t dating you,” Asano retorted, his hand casually brushing a strand of red hair out of Karma’s face.
Karma huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He wanted to stay annoyed, to keep up the biting banter, but the warmth of Asano’s fingers against his skin was distracting.
“Why do you even care?” Karma grumbled. “It’s not like we can go public. Your dad would murder you in cold blood if he found out you were dating a guy.”
Asano’s expression darkened slightly, his smirk faltering for just a moment. “True,” he said, his tone sharper now. “But just because I can’t shout it from the rooftops doesn’t mean the world doesn’t need to know you’re taken.”
Karma raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if suppressing a laugh. “So, what? You’re branding me like a cow? Classy, Shuu.”
Asano rolled his eyes, his fingers brushing over the fresh marks on Karma’s neck. “If that’s what it takes to keep every idiot who stares at you in line, then sure.”
Karma snorted, leaning back against the headboard with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re so insecure,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “It’s almost cute.”
“Shut up, Karma,” Asano replied, leaning in to press a brief, almost dismissive kiss to his hair. “Or I’ll give you another one.”
Karma’s eyes widened, and he scooted back an inch, his hands instinctively covering his neck. “Don’t you dare.”
Asano smirked, leaning back against the pillows with an air of victory. “Then behave.”
Karma rolled his eyes, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.