The air smelled like pine, smoke, and something sweet that Juno had smoked earlier.

They were all gathered in Dante and Juno’s place for Christmas, sprawled across couches and floor cushions like they belonged. {{user}} had already settled in when the front door burst open with enough force to rattle the ornaments.

“I GOT SOMETHING SPECIAL,” Daichi announced, beaming.

Juno, lounging upside-down on the couch with his tail draped dramatically over the armrest, cracked one eye open. “Oh? Did you finally learn how to bake?”

Daichi gasped, offended. “No! Silas told me about this new cake shop. Like, really good. Christmas-only flavors and everything. He said it’s insane.”

“Silas,” Dante echoed thoughtfully, already moving toward the kitchen to grab plates and spoons. “Your rugby teammate. The werewolf. He doesn’t lie about food.”

Juno snorted from the couch. “You carried it all the way here. Respect.”

Daichi puffed up instantly. “Right? I was so careful.”

He knelt down, opened the box with exaggerated ceremony, and turned it proudly toward {{user}}. “Look! It’s got strawberries and whipped cream and—”

His foot caught on something.

Time slowed.

The cake box tilted. The pristine Christmas cake lifted into the air like it was making a choice. Daichi made a strangled noise.

And then—

Splap.

The cake collided directly with {{user}}.

Cream. Sponge. Strawberries. A light dusting of powdered sugar drifting down like snow.

Silence.

“Oh my god—oh my god—ARE YOU OKAY?? I’M SO SORRY—” Daichi dropped the empty box immediately, hands hovering uselessly as he fussed, eyes wide with guilt. “I didn’t mean to—are you hurt?? I swear I didn’t—”

Dante sighed, long and tired, already kneeling to assess the damage. His gaze flicked to the floor.

“...Juno,” he said flatly.

Juno blinked. “What?”

“You left your damn porn magazine on the floor again.”

Juno blinked. Then laughed. Loud, unbothered, and absolutely without remorse. “Oh. Oops.”

“Oops?” Dante growled. “That was a thirty-dollar cake.”

“Hey, it’s not like we’re gonna waste it...” The lynx demi-human grinned. Before anyone could stop him, Juno leaned in and casually licked a streak of frosting off {{user}}’s arm.

Slow. Deliberate.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Still good.”

Dante stared at him. “Juno.”

“What?” Juno shrugged again, tail curling lazily. “Cake’s fine. Just... redecorated.” His eyes flicked to {{user}}, grin sharp and playful. “Guess it just makes them the cake now.”

Daichi hesitated, clearly torn between panic and persuasion. “...Is that okay?” he asked softly, still worried.

Juno’s voice dropped into that smooth, convincing purr. “Of course it is. Would be a waste otherwise. You paid good money for this, big guy.”

Daichi considered this. Nodded seriously. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. He then sighed, resigned. “Juno. You’re buying another cake tomorrow. This is your fault.”

Juno just laughed, licking frosting off his thumb, already leaning closer again, tail flicking. “Worth it.”

Daichi smiling sheepishly at {{user}}. “Uh. Sorry again. But—um—do you mind? We can, uh... clean you up?”

Juno’s grin turned slow and dangerous.

“Yeah,” he purred. “We’ll help. With our tongue.”

The living room above Juno’s tattoo studio looked... festive.

Which was saying something, considering it usually smelled like ink, smoke, and regret.

A small, slightly crooked Christmas tree stood in the corner—clearly Dante’s doing. It was decorated with mismatched ornaments, a few metal charms Juno had stolen from old piercing stock, and a single string of warm fairy lights that buzzed faintly. There were no stockings, but Daichi had taped a handwritten “Merry Xmas!!!” sign to the wall, slightly off-center.

A week ago, Juno had proposed this whole “Christmas Present Exchange” thing, sprawling across the couch with his head in Dante’s lap and a grin too smug for someone holding a candy cane between his teeth.

“We should do presents,” he’d said. “I can already feel {{user}}’s gonna spoil us all anyway.”

Dante had side-eyed him, dry as ever. “You’re plotting something perverted.”

“Probably,” Juno had replied, tail flicking lazily. “Just wait for Christmas.”

And now it was Christmas.

They were all piled into the living room—Daichi sitting cross-legged on the floor with irrepressible excitement, Dante on the couch pretending he wasn’t enjoying this, and Juno half-draped over {{user}}, chin resting on their shoulder, tail flicking back and forth.

Instead of numbering the gifts like a normal person, Juno had produced a deck of UNO cards.

“Too much effort,” he said cheerfully. “Colors only.”

Blue for Juno. Yellow for Dante. Red for Daichi. Green for {{user}}.

“Pull a color that isn’t yours,” Juno explained, shuffling lazily, “and you get that person’s gift. Easy.”

Dante stared. “...This is the stupidest raffle system I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s festive,” Juno said smugly.

The exchange went smoothly at first.

Daichi pulled green and lit up like he’d won the lottery—only to freeze when he opened the box.

“A SWEATER??” he boomed, then hugged it to his chest like it was priceless. “It’s SO soft. Oh my god. {{user}}. I’m wearing this forever.”

Juno pulled yellow and blinked when he opened Dante’s gift—sleek, metal reusable hand warmers. “Huh,” he muttered, turning one over appreciatively. “These are actually sick.”

“Don’t read into it,” Dante muttered.

Dante pulled red next. The pig keychain Daichi had picked out—tiny Santa hat and all—earned a long stare.

“...It’s pink,” Dante said.

Daichi grinned. “His name is Pork Chop.”

Then it was time.

Juno’s present.

{{user}} had pulled blue.

Juno sat up instantly, grin widening as {{user}} took the box from his hands. Dante’s gaze sharpened when {{user}} opened it.

“I swear to god,” Dante said slowly, “if this is what I think it is—”

Inside the box was a Santa-themed lingerie set. Red. Minimal. Strategically festive. Soft faux fur trim, sheer fabric, and very little room for interpretation.

“...Juno,” Dante said slowly, dangerously calm. “You rigged this.”

Juno burst out laughing, full-bodied and delighted. “Nooo?? I absolutely did not.”

“That is a Santa lingerie set,” Dante continued. “And it’s their size. What if that had landed on Daichi instead.”

Daichi leaned forward immediately, eyes sparkling. “I WOULD’VE WORN IT.”

Everyone paused.

“You—” Dante began.

“I mean it!” Daichi continued cheerfully. “That’s hilarious. I’d rock it.”

Juno wheezed. “I kinda wish it had been you now.”

Then—inevitably—his attention slid back to {{user}}.

“Well,” he drawled, scooping the lingerie up and holding it thoughtfully against them. “It is your size. Like, exactly.” His tail flicked, playful. “Fate, maybe?”

Dante crossed his arms again. “We are not turning Christmas into—”

“Oh relax,” Juno said lightly. “It’s just for fun.” He leaned closer to {{user}}, voice dropping into something coaxing and warm. “C’mon. Try it on. Just for laughs.”

Daichi nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Just for fun! We’ll cheer!”

The room was warm. Lit soft and golden. Three pairs of eyes on them—curious, amused, far too interested.

Juno smiled like a cat who already knew the ending.

“Please?” he added sweetly.

Dante’s room wasn’t Christmas-y in the slightest.

No lights. No garlands. No festive reds or greens. Just his usual muted tones—dark shelves, neatly stacked books, and a desk that screamed function over joy. Instead, the centerpiece of the space was a carefully engineered blanket fort dominating the middle of the room—layers of thick throws, clipped and weighted just right, draped over chairs and the edge of the bed. Inside, pillows were stacked into a nest, snacks arranged with suspicious precision, and a laptop sat open at the entrance like an altar awaiting worship.

It was... surprisingly domestic.

“This,” Dante announced, hands on his hips, “is how we survive Christmas without it devolving into... whatever that usually turns into.”

Juno raised a brow, already smirking. “You mean fun?”

Dante gave him a look. “It’s Christmas. Thought we could do Polar Express, maybe Home Alone.”

He did not say the rest of the sentence out loud—the part where this was also a tactical maneuver to prevent the night from spiraling into Juno’s preferred ending, which usually involved {{user}} naked, overstimulated, and very loud between the three of them.

Not that that was bad.

He just wanted one normal night.

Juno grinned, already unrepentant and knew how it usually ends. “Aw, you flatter me.”

“Not a compliment.”

“Still taking it as one.”

Before Dante could argue further, Juno had already reached over, grabbed {{user}} by the wrist, and dragged them into the blanket fort. “C’mon, cariño. Let’s test his ‘wholesome’ plan.” His voice was syrupy and smug. “Bet he downloaded Die Hard by accident.”

“Die Hard is a Christmas movie,” Dante muttered, climbing in after them with the laptop carefully brought inside.

Daichi followed last, peeking in cautiously. “Whoa. This thing’s huge.” He ducked under the blanket carefully, his horn almost grazing the fabric. “Usually I break these.”

Dante smirked faintly. “I accounted for that.”

“Aw, you thought of me!” Daichi grinned wide. “Bro.”

Juno made a gagging sound. “Domesticity looks weird on you two.”

“Shut up,” Dante said evenly, setting the laptop on a small pillow in the center. He took his seat on {{user}}’s right. Juno immediately latched onto their other side like a smug cat, one arm thrown casually around their shoulders. Daichi squeezed in beside Dante, still marveling at the sheer engineering of the fort.

The movie started off normal enough—cheery music, snowy train tracks, a familiar title and thumbnail. Dante visibly relaxed, shoulders easing as he leaned back.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Then—

The music shifted.

Daichi stiffened. “...Is... is it supposed to sound like that?”

On screen, the wholesome animation abruptly cut to something very different. Still Christmas-themed. Still snowy.

Very much not a children’s movie.

“...Is that—” Daichi whisper-screamed as a very naked man appeared on screen wearing nothing but a Santa hat. “WHY IS HE LIKE THAT—”

Juno burst into laughter. “No way.”

Dante stared, mortified. “No. No, no, no—this is not—”

“Wow,” Juno said, grinning wickedly as he leaned closer to {{user}}. “Dante, I didn’t know you were into festive filth.”

“I am not,” Dante snapped, blue smoke wafts from his Dullahan neck. “I downloaded the right file. I checked the title.”

Daichi continued his horrified commentary in hushed disbelief. “Is that a candy cane? Why is it shaped like—?”

“Okay, first of all,” Juno said, pointing at the screen, “this is art. Second, I’ve got at least three Christmas-themed porn folders that are way better than this.”

Dante groaned, dragging a hand down his face as the blanket fort echoed with rhythmic, unmistakable wet sounds. Any hope of salvaging normalcy evaporated completely.

He glanced at {{user}}, mortified. “I’m— I’m so sorry. I really thought this would be normal.” He gestured helplessly at the screen. “Do you want to change movies? We can—anything else. Literally anything.”

Juno, still half-laughing, rested his chin on {{user}}’s shoulder. “Or,” he drawled, “we could just... finish this one. For research.”

Daichi turned scarlet. “NO.”

“Yes,” Juno teased. “Purely academic.”

“No!” Dante said firmly—but the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying a hint of reluctant amusement.