• Roxas’ body was sprawled awkwardly over the armchair, one arm laid across his stomach. He was dressed in boxers with a playful tessellation of keyblades and a plain white t-shirt, though a pair of reindeer antlers on a headband had been strategically planted atop the mop of blond by a certain meddling redhead. He muttered incoherent things under his breath, tossing and turning under the itchy woollen blanket draped across his torso. Eyelids fluttered and he dropped his chin a fraction, toes wiggling. Christmas had always been his favourite of all the holidays, but he wasn’t the type to wake up at a quarter past midnight, begging to ravage the pile of wrapped boxes underneath the tree. Though the youngest of the Organization, a certain amount of maturity had been ingrained within him—or so he liked to think. Even if he had been a typical kid, he knew better than to rouse Larxene from her beauty sleep. A shudder would ripple down his spine even at the thought!



    Whoever said that Nobodies didn’t know how to celebrate was sorely mistaken! The doorways were bedecked in boughs of evergreen and sprigs of mistletoe, and bells hung on every doorknob. The windows were frosted with Demyx’s encouragement, and the fireplace was hung with thirteen rumpled stockings. And one couldn’t forget the Christmas focal point—the tree! It was almost as tall as their domed castle ceilings, decorated with ornaments that blinked and glittered, spun and whirred, clinked and clanked. A large Paopu Fruit embellished the very top of the tree, trumping the traditional star or angel. Beneath the awe-inspiring tree was another very important element of the Christmas spirit. A heap of neatly—and not-so-neatly—wrapped presents tumbled out onto the rug, each addressed to a Nobody. Hell, even Larxene had one or two gifts under there!



    Roxas rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands, sitting up sluggishly. He threw off the the blanket, looking around the profusely decorated room with a tired smile. He could hear Xaldin’s hearty snores and grunts from somewhere down the hallway. The castle was kind of peaceful when everybody was sleeping; nobody was squabbling, nobody was setting anybody else on fire or trying to castrate them... The petite blond sighed and smirked, crossing his legs at the ankles and reclining in the chair. It would probably be quite a few hours before anybody was willing to drag themselves out of bed. Roxas closed his eyes and let his head loll back against the cushioned chair, drifting somewhere between sleep and awake. Five minutes came and went, only the tick-tock of the clock in the corridor and Xaldin’s snores challenged the silence... then something warm and heavy fell on his shoulder and jerked him out of his sleepy serenity. Eyes flicked up, met with possibly the most humorous sight he’d ever seen. A certain red-haired man stood there, though his usually impeccably-spiked tresses sprung out in a tangled train wreck, and meticulous upside-down diamonds were smudged almost to his chin. Though he would have normally told Axel off for spying, when he opened his mouth, all that could escape was laughter.



    “Haha, very funny,” Axel muttered with a characteristic roll of his eyes. His arms crossed over his chest and he leaned back slightly, appraising Roxas for a rebuttal. Not being able to find anything, he simply stepped back, his mood soured. Roxas quieted himself and pursed his lips, trying to keep himself from grinning stupidly. Though, there was one thing that Axel never failed to do to wipe the smile right off of his face. The redhead crouched to the blond’s height, catching his chin with his fingers and tilting it up to impel Roxas’ lips to catch Axel’s. The slight blond moved to swat at the taller male’s face, but he caught the younger one’s wrist and pushed it away. Roxas’ cheeks felt hot, blue eyes falling away from Axel’s emerald ones. Shaky arms curled around Axel’s small waist, giving him all the permission he needed to sink down atop the blond on the armchair. It squeaked and squealed in protest as the two shifted and wiggled, trying to accommodate one another’s forms on the relatively small cushion.



    “A-Axel,” Roxas murmured against his moist lips, gesturing above them with his free hand. A sprig of mistletoe, laced up with red and green bows, hung just above their heads. “Mistletoe means I’ve got to kiss you, it’s not like I like it... or anything, y’know.” Roxas wrinkled his nose and his blush darkened a shade, turning his whole face the colour of strawberry jam. The redhead smirked and rolled his eyes, meeting Roxas’ explanation by crushing his mouth against the blond’s. Shifting to pin the younger one beneath him, he pulled back and smiled something vaguely genuine. “Merry Christmas, Roxas.”