Ogron was having trouble relaxing this week. December had barely begun, and yet he already felt frazzled. The weight of the season pressed down on him like freshly fallen snow—not soft and serene, but cold and heavy. He didn't want to seem like a Scrooge, but this time of year always carried an edge of tension.
Perhaps it was the universe's way of punishing him, a cosmic balancing act to make him suffer for all his past wrongdoings. After all, wasn't this supposed to be the most peaceful time of year? Yet here he was, pacing the dimly lit kitchen, the clock creeping past 10 p.m., and he was reaching for the coffee pot. Again.
The sound of bare feet padding across the hardwood caught his attention, and he turned to see Anagan leaning against the doorway.
"You're making coffee? This late?" Anagan's voice was soft, teasing, but with a touch of concern.
Ogron shrugged. "I need something to keep me awake. There's too much to think about, too much to do—"
"Or," Anagan interrupted gently, stepping closer, "we could have cocoa instead."
Ogron opened his mouth to argue, "No thank you. Hot cocoa is just sugary water trying to imitate chocolate it's…absolutely…." the words caught in his throat as he caught sight of Anagan's face. The glow from the nearby Christmas tree cast a kaleidoscope of colors across his skin, illuminating the warm bronze of his complexion. His dreads framed his face perfectly, the strands catching the light like threads of shadow and gold.
And those eyes… deep, rich, and inviting, like hot cocoa itself.
Ogron sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "Fine. Cocoa it is."
Anagan's smile was soft but triumphant as he moved to prepare the mugs. Ogron watched him in silence, the scent of chocolate and cinnamon filling the air, replacing the bitter tang of coffee that had lingered moments before.
They settled on the couch together, a quiet calm settling over the room. The tree lights flickered softly, painting their faces in shades of red, green, and gold. Ogron cradled the warm mug between his hands, the heat seeping into his skin, thawing something inside him that he hadn't realized was frozen.
Anagan sat beside him, legs folded beneath him, his gaze fixed on the tree. They drank in companionable silence, the only sound the occasional crackle of the fire and the soft hum of holiday music playing in the background.
As Ogron drained the last sip of cocoa, he set the mug down, fully expecting Anagan to do the same and head off to bed. But the thought of being alone again made his chest tighten.
"Another round?" Ogron asked quickly, before Anagan could move.
Anagan raised an eyebrow. "You sure? I thought you said hot cocoa was just sugary water."
"Perhaps I changed my mind." Ogron's lips twitched into a rare, playful smirk.
They returned to the kitchen for a second round, and this time, Ogron took his time. He savored the warmth of the drink, the way Anagan's presence seemed to fill the room with a quiet kind of magic.
When they returned to the couch, Anagan leaned back against the cushions, his head resting on Ogron's shoulder. For a moment, everything felt right. No stress, no worries—just the two of them in this peaceful, fleeting moment.
"Why do you get so tense around the holidays?" Anagan asked softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Ogron's arm.
Ogron exhaled, his breath stirring the air between them. "I guess… it's hard to feel like I deserve peace…."
Anagan shifted to face him, his eyes searching Ogron's. "Everyone deserves a little peace. Even you."
The sincerity in his voice made Ogron's heart ache in a way he wasn't used to. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Anagan leaned in and gently took the mug from his hands, setting it aside.
Then, without a word, he kissed him.
It was soft at first, a tender brush of lips, but it deepened quickly, the warmth between them igniting something more than the cocoa ever could. Ogron felt himself melt into it, his hand instinctively resting on Anagan's cheek, the other threading through the dark locks of his dreads. The sweet taste of warm chocolate danced between their lips.
When they finally pulled apart, Ogron found himself gazing into those deep, cocoa-colored eyes once more, his breath caught in his chest.
"I think…" Ogron murmured, a rare softness in his voice, "I really love hot cocoa."