ˋˏ ༻☘️ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛʟᴇᴛᴏᴇ💞༺ ˎˊ

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"Dazai and Chuuya are here!" Rings of voices echoed in the pretty packed house, a party lead by the two that shouldn't be leading a party.

"Why are they invited?" The poet asked, tilting his head at detective, pulling strings of decorations over the heating fireplace.

"Dazai is in the ADA, Chuuya was just forced." The blackette explained, a chuckle leaving his mouth.

They decided to throw a house party for Christmas that year, the rooms filled with festive strings and cute items hung on every corner you could think of. The detective really liked celebrating holidays, going all out or not at all is what he always said. The poet on the other hand seems less fond of the idea, just going along with the blackette when it came to any subject regarding interactions with people.

"Can you get the door?" The detective asked, waving a signal towards the busy brunette. The blackette placed small mugs of hot chocolate on a tray, taking it and placing it on a table located near clutters of sofas.

The poet only nodded, his feet trailing towards the door, opening it revealing two males talking amongst themselves, the brunette turning towards the poet. He flashed a smile, smiling waving a friendly hand. "Hello." He spoke out, his smile having a turn of sinister underneath the curves of it.

The poet moved to let them in, a comforting smile appearing on his lips.

"Why are we here-" the shorter ginger said towards Dazai, a bitter expression on his face.

The poet moved away from them, leaving the talking to the brunette and made his way to the blackette. The detective seemed to be busy, his head down looking at the counter. The poets arms snaked up and around the smallers waist, back hugging him tightly.

The blackette smiled softly, the brunette feeling it. The detective glanced at the poet, a chuckle leaving his lips; his hands coming up and holding the arms around himself, pulling them tighter.

The brunette laid his head on top of the detectives, a smile creeping onto his face, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"You're so cute." The detective spoke, picking at the festive cupcakes he'd been working on placed on the counter, laced with frosting. His finger dipped into it, turning towards the brunette, swearing the frosting on the bottom of the poets lips and his nose, chuckling to himself.

The blackette moved towards the poet, licking off the frosting from his nose, his eyes trailing towards his lips.

The poets cheeks felt hot, pink spreading across them. He leaned forward, his arms still around the detectives waist.

Their lips connects, the shorter of the two smiling in the kiss. The poet pulled away first, his cheeks tinted with shades and hues of brights of pink.

The blackette chuckled to himself, tasting the vanilla frosting topping the tip of his tongue.

"Hey, can you guys stop eating each other's faces and help us clean up for the party?" An angry ginger spat, blankets and cups in his arms, standing with his arms crossed at the two.

"Right." The shorter chuckled, stepping away from the brunette and pulling the cupcakes out of the tray, lining them with striped papers.

The poet only nodded, pouring drinks into the glass cups resting on the table top. He glanced towards the detective, a smile spreading across his face, his cheeks stinging with pink.

"Who got invited?" The suicidal maniac asked nonchalantly, glancing at the two hosting the party.

"Mostly everyone." The detective explained, cleaning the table tops with a red rag, glancing at the one who asked the question.

"Like?" The tall male asked, chuckling at the unclear answer the blackette gave.

"Everyone in the Agency, some from the Port Mafia." The shorter host spoke out, rolling his eyes dramatically to the brunette.

The agency member nodded, picking up pieces of trash off of the floor, throwing it into a bag of garbage he'd been lugging around.

The famous poet laid out cloths over the cleaned tables, pushing out the small folds and curls of the red fabric. He pulled the sides, fixing every imperfections in the cloth.

The detective stood up, throwing away the dirty rag and glancing back towards the taller male, picking up a mistletoe resting in a box of ornaments, skipping over to his loved one.

A smile creeped onto his lips, moving behind the shy raccoon owner. He back hugged the other, pulling the poets attention towards himself.

"Hm?" He hummed a response, his hair moving off of his eye. His eyes ran up to the hand in the air, a mistletoe dangling above them.

"Under the mistletoe huh?" The detective smirked, glancing at the brunette's lips.

They shared a soft kiss, the hand in the air dropping to wrap around the tallers waist. They stayed like that for a while, a sudden knock on the door pulling them off of each other.

"Everyones here love birds." The ginger spoke out to the two hosts, laying out a cloth on the small coffee table in front of three couches. The agency member walking over to open the door, loud chatter and spraying smiles from behind the white door.

Different voices echoed in the now packed house, laughs and basic small talk sprayed from inside. They all gathered around the small coffee table, mugs of hot chocolate getting handed out to everyone sitting down, small white marshmallow floating on top like tiny sailboats.

The detective took one of the mugs, making space for him and the raccoon owner. They both sat down, cups of steaming sweet liquid, cavity inducing chocolates in a small bowl in front of them. 

Everyone else seemed to be doing their own thing, picking up chatter, eating fruitcake placed out by the two hosts, taking the fluffy Santa hats and placing them onto their heads, getting into a festive atmosphere.

Yet the two love birds seemed to be in their own world, the two of them and only them roaming around in the room, their smiles linked together like chains, links through their hearts with a lock; the key getting thrown into the bottom of a deep ocean. Unable to be separated.

The short detective reached a hand to hold the others, an ice cold touch reaching his palm and fingers. "You cold?" He asked, placing down the hot chocolate holding mug back onto the coffee table, his attention being pulling towards the poet like a magnet, an attraction that couldn't be pulled apart.

He only nodded slightly, his other hand folded into the fabric of his sweater, attempting to keep what ever warmth he had sheltered.

The shorter host pulled the other onto him, resting on his lap, hugging him tightly. A smirk forming onto his lips.

"Don't worry, I'll make you feel warmer~"

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