This very short one-shot came to me last night. I never thought to do this type of story for Aya and Yohji, but here it is; I must be in the holiday mood.

The points in the story that are vague were done so intentionally. Warning only for a brief kiss between the boys.

I neither own nor profit from Weiss Kreuz or its characters.

Enjoy.

fire mystic

Present

Aya studied the box, contemplating, turning it over in his hands, wondering if he should even bother. Aya-chan had gushed when he had shown her the contents of the box. There was no need to explain it to her; she had known the minute she saw it what he was thinking. He had told her then he wasn't sure he was even going through with it, but she had insisted on wrapping it for him, promising it would be beautiful, and he had to admit that the glittering gold paper with its bit of red ribbon caught the eye nicely. She had giggled when she presented him with the finished product, and called him sweet as she hung on his arm and made him blush furiously in a way no one else had ever been able to do.

It had felt so much like when they were younger. If he never got another gift in his life, Aya-chan back, alive, conscious, safe, was all the gift he would ever need.

But there was something else Aya wanted. It was selfish, he knew, to want something so badly, as selfish as it was hopeless. He had suppressed this desire easily for so long that he thought his current dilemma would never be an issue, that it might even one day fade away. But then his sister had woken, and his reality had shifted, and it had become clear that repressing this longing was no longer so simple, and that it fading away was no longer a possibility.

Still, he had not yet been able to find the courage to make his wish known. Even now, he debated going through with his plan.

His cell phone buzzed, and he checked the message Aya had sent him.

"Stop thinking about it and just do it, Ran :P No wimping out!"

He texted back "I'll let you know what happens tomorrow" and went to follow his sister's advice.

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

Yohji breathed deeply, letting the cold, crisp air sting his nose and lungs, and then watched the vapor plume out of his mouth. He had spent the night walking, watching the people around him for the time they were still bustling around on the streets, and thinking about how things had changed and yet some things remained the same.

Like flower shops.

He turned the corner and caught sight of the new shop. It was different from the old one, slightly larger, brighter and airier, but selling flowers was still selling flowers, and though their customers had changed with the location, fangirls seemed to reside all over Japan.

There were no fangirls now, certainly not at this hour, but even today, there hadn't been any. They had other things to worry about today, other priorities besides fawning over the local florists. He slipped into the back entrance and quietly made his way to his room, trying to let go of the myriad of same-but-not-the-same thoughts that were lingering in his mind, especially the one about a certain someone he was interested in and one in particular concerning himself, neither of which he could find the courage to do anything about.

He pulled his coat off in the semi-dark, not needing the dim light filtering through the window to show him the chair he laid it across. He cast his clothes off in much the same manner, not bothering with any further lighting until he turned to his bed, and spotted the object catching the light on his pillow.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping his eye on the small object, he turned on the bedside lamp and studied the little box wrapped so delicately in gold. This he hadn't expected, could have never guessed, and though he knew it had to be from one of his teammates, he couldn't imagine any of them going to the trouble to leave him a surprise gift such as this.

Maybe if he opened it he might have a clue.

He handled it gingerly, doing his best not to tear the paper that had been applied so carefully, and removed the little box from the wrapping. He shook it gently and something rattled softly within. What, he couldn't begin to guess. Then he lifted the lid.

There was a piece of paper folded on top. He resisted the urge to lift the cotton to see what was beneath until he read the note, his eyes growing wider as they repeatedly scanned over the few words that were typed there, words that were heart-felt, honest and daring. It had been left unsigned, but Yohji knew who he wanted it to be. He could hope.

He pushed the cotton aside and his heart contracted.

Maybe some things didn't remain so much the same after all.

XOXOXOXOXOX

The house might have been quiet if Omi were not prattling on at a hundred miles an hour. Ken, for his part, should get a prize, Yohji thought, for listening to the chibi, and then upgraded that to a major award when he realized Ken was actually responding in a way that suggested he really was listening to Omi, and not just grunting occasionally to appease.

Yohji smiled and shook his head as he carefully avoided getting snared into the conversation, remaining out of sight as he bypassed the kitchen and made his way to the living room. He sat down at one end of the couch, stretching out, trying to appear casual as he turned to the man on the opposite side who was too intently studying the small Christmas tree that Aya-chan had decorated so meticulously.

But Yohji knew Aya was paying attention. He had to concentrate to achieve a calm tone.

"I feel guilty. I didn't get you a gift."

Aya kept his gaze steadfastly on the tree.

"Are you wearing it?"

Yohji slid closer, turning his body so he was facing Aya, curling one knee up on the couch between them, nearly touching, but not quite.

"You'll have to look to find out."

There was a moment when Yohji thought Aya might not do it, that Aya might yet back out, Aya whose cheeks were nearly as red as his hair, whose eyes were slightly panicked, and whose breathing was shallower than usual. But then Aya turned slowly, just his head, just enough for him to see.

His gaze fell immediately on the glint of metal, affirming that Yohji had indeed accepted his gift. Still, he didn't quite believe.

"Does this mean" he stumbled on his words, clearing his throat, that deep voice trembling ever so slightly. "The note. I wasn't sure about it. I meant it, every word, but do you understand?"

"Aya," Yohji interrupted the rapid, breathy rambling, "look at me."

It took time, as if it were a conscientious effort for Aya to shift his gaze to Yohji's. Moving slowly, maintaining eye contact and letting Aya take in the moment, Yohji closed the space between them until his lips were pressed tenderly to Aya's.

"I understand," he murmured, his lips still brushing against Aya's. He felt Aya finger the warm metal, and it was like heat pulsed through it and into his body, thrumming deliciously along his nerves. Aya wrapped his hand around it, and it was as if he were wrapping it around Yohji's heart, and their lips met again, clinging gently; a kiss full of promises of things to come.

There would be time later to explain to Yohji about the different forms gifts could take.