Work Text:
“Merry Christmas!”
Mitsuri bounded up to Sanemi and kissed each of his cheeks. He drew back in alarm, but she didn’t notice, already off to greet other co-workers. Obanai was hot on her heels, and he glared at Sanemi furiously as he passed.
“Want to control your girlfriend?” Sanemi snapped at him.
“You think I can tell her what to do?” Obanai retorted sharply, heterochromatic eyes following her as she flitted over to Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke at the refreshments table. He watched murderously as she wrapped Tanjiro in a hug, practically lifting him off the ground. Without another word to Sanemi, he crossed the room to Mitsuri. She laughed, oblivious to his sour mood, and kissed him, silencing any complaints he might have had.
Sanemi shook his head. He walked around the room, smiling with the right people and making small talk. He mingled just enough to make sure that he was seen by his boss. Then he walked over to get a drink from the bar. He would allow himself one drink, just one. He’d finish his drink, and then he could go home. He really just wanted to be relaxing on the couch with his dog, watching whatever version of A Christmas Carol happened to be on TV. He was partial to Scrooged, but he wasn’t picky. Anything would be better than being at a work party on Christmas Eve.
Giyu Tomioka was also at the bar when Sanemi walked up. Sanemi didn’t say hello to him, simply ordered his drink and sat quietly while he waited for it. He and Giyu were as different as day and night, and they didn’t typically get along. Generally, Giyu kept to himself, quiet and reserved and just a bit arrogant, Sanemi thought. He grated on Sanemi’s nerves, as a rule. He was pretty sure the sentiment went both ways.
He was surprised, then, when Giyu turned to him with an actual smile on his face and immediately said, “How are you, Sanemi?”
Sanemi blinked, taken aback. A greeting? A smile? And…had he used Sanemi’s first name?
“Um, fine,” Sanemi said gruffly, “Thanks.”
“Good,” Giyu said, “I’m glad.” He took another drink from his glass.
Sanemi narrowed his eyes at him. “Are…you drunk, Tomioka?”
Giyu looked at him in surprise, a flush coloring his cheeks. His eyes were just a bit glassy. “What? No, of course not, that’s- Why would you think that?” He laughed, a little too brightly.
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. That was more words than Giyu had said to him in…well…maybe ever. And he’d laughed (not an unpleasant laugh, Sanemi thought) which was just not something Giyu did. Yes, he was definitely, if not drunk, well on his way there. Which was surprising, given that Sanemi recalled seeing Giyu’s car in the parking lot. If he’d driven here, he really shouldn’t be getting plastered. At a work party, no less.
The bartender brought Sanemi his drink. Drink in hand, he considered walking away. But…he could admit he was just a little curious. Drunk Giyu Tomioka? That was likely to be the most interesting conversation he would get at the party. So Sanemi sat on the barstool.
“I’m…maybe a little bit tipsy,” Giyu admitted, looking down at his drink.
“No shit,” Sanemi said.
“What?” Giyu asked, eyes suddenly flashing. Angry. Another emotion. Giyu generally displayed so few of them, it was sort of fascinating to watch them come to the surface so readily.
“Nothing,” Sanemi said, sipping his drink, “It’s just unexpected.”
“I’m not allowed to relax?” Giyu asked sharply, “Not allowed to just…have fun sometimes?”
Sanemi grinned. “Obviously you’re allowed to have fun. You just don’t.”
Giyu huffed, pointing a finger at him, and said, “Just because you don’t see me have fun…doesn’t mean I don’t have fun…”
“I don’t buy it,” Sanemi said, and enjoyed the way it made Giyu’s hackles raise a bit. He couldn’t help himself. He pushed, “I mean, you’re kind of a stick in the mud, not to mention you always have a stick up your ass.”
“Oh, okay,” Giyu said, nodding, “Yeah, well, you all know me so damn well, so I guess you must be right.”
Another emotion, and not a good one. Giyu’s brow had creased and he looked away from Sanemi. He seemed…almost wounded. Sanemi groaned inwardly. He hadn’t meant to fucking hurt the man’s feelings.
“Shit, I didn’t mean anything by that, Tomioka,” Sanemi said, “I was just pulling your leg, okay?”
“It’s fine,” Giyu muttered, “It’s what everyone thinks anyways.”
“I don’t think-” Sanemi started to say.
“No,” Giyu interrupted him. He threw back the rest of his drink and indicated to the bartender that he wanted a refill. “Kocho told me, and she’s not wrong. I know that no one likes me.” He glanced sidelong at Sanemi and added, “Especially you.”
Wow. Sanemi felt like he had whiplash from Giyu’s cheery greeting, to his quick anger, and now this… Suddenly, Giyu’s drunk state was making more sense. But he should probably dial it back, or he was going to say or do something that he would regret. It wasn’t Sanemi’s problem. But he felt reluctant to just let him crash and burn without at least trying to slow down the train.
“Maybe here, and now, and while you’re drunk is not the best time to be trying to figure this out,” Sanemi suggested.
Giyu shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” The bartender brought his refill, and he immediately drained it.
“Oookay,” Sanemi said, eyeing him, “I think you’ve probably had enough.”
Giyu twisted on his stool to face Sanemi. His face was still flushed, cheeks rosy, and his hair was dark around his face, a little unruly, a little wild. He glared at Sanemi. “Why do you care? It’s just free entertainment if I make a fool of myself, right?”
Sanemi sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Just because we’re not friends doesn’t mean I think you should…damage your reputation.”
Giyu laughed again, clear and bright. “What reputation? You just said my reputation is 'stick in the mud with a stick up his ass'. Can’t get much worse than that, can it.”
“Yeah, alright,” Sanemi growled, “But if you don’t dial it back and you act like this in front of Ubuyashiki-”
“So. What.” Giyu said. He shrugged again and raised a hand to the bartender. When Giyu turned his back, Sanemi made eye contact with the man and shook his head slightly to negate the request. Giyu sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t even have this job, Sanemi. I lucked into it. I’m not qualified. If I get fired, that’s what I had coming all along anyways.”
Sanemi considered his co-worker. There was a lot to unpack here. More than he could manage in a single conversation when Giyu was too drunk to be reasonable.
“Do you have a ride home?” Sanemi asked him, deciding the best option for Giyu was to get him to bed and let him sleep it off.
“I have a car,” Giyu said, “And speaking of, I think I’ll be going.” He slid off his stool, grabbing his jacket from the bar top beside him and trying to put it on. Sanemi watched him struggle to find where the arms were, turning the jacket around, then over, then finally managing to slip into it.
“You’re not driving,” Sanemi said, grabbing his arm before he could walk away.
Giyu pulled his keys out of his pocket and said, “I’m pretty sure I am.”
Sanemi glared at him and snatched the keys, Giyu’s inebriated reflexes too delayed to pull them away. “The fuck you are, asshole. I’m not coming into work next week and hearing that you ended up a damn smear on the pavement because I let you drive yourself home.”
Giyu groaned, tipping his head back, and said, “Fine, then I’ll walk.”
“You live…how far?” Sanemi asked, glancing out the window to the thick snow falling through the air.
“Just…you know. Other side of town,” Giyu said, waving a hand.
“Okay. I’ll just drive you, alright?” Sanemi said, getting off his own stool.
“No,” Giyu said, folding his arms petulantly, “So you can hold it over me? No.”
Sanemi growled and gripped Giyu’s elbow, towing him along. “I’m not going to hold it over you, dumbass. It’s Christmas Eve. Let someone do you a favor.”
“You’re leaving already?” Kyojuro asked as they approached the exit.
“Just gotta take Tomioka home before he passes out,” Sanemi said under his breath.
Kyojuro glanced at Giyu and laughed, patting him on the back. “Right, I see. Well, Merry Christmas,” he said to them.
Sanemi nodded to Kyojuro and then he tugged Giyu along.
“You really don’t have to drive me,” Giyu complained, “I could…take an uber or something…”
“I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave, anyway,” Sanemi said. He smirked at Giyu. “Think of it like you’re doing me a favor.”
They walked out into the snow, thick white flakes catching in Giyu’s hair, bright against the raven strands. Giyu grumbled, but slid into the passenger seat while Sanemi got into the driver’s side and turned the car on. Giyu fumbled with the navigation system and put in his own address.
They drove in silence for a while. Sanemi glanced across the seat to Giyu. He had his head tipped against the window, blue eyes listless.
“For what it's worth…” Sanemi said, “I don’t think people don’t like you.”
“You don’t like me,” Giyu muttered.
Sanemi gritted his teeth a bit and said, “It’s not really that… I just don’t know you, alright?” He glanced at him again, and saw that Giyu had turned his gaze on Sanemi. “No one really knows you. You’re so fucking quiet all the time. You don’t talk to anyone.”
Giyu blinked slowly. He didn’t argue. Didn’t deny it. Just took it in, and turned his gaze back out the window.
When they got to Giyu’s apartment, Sanemi parked in the lot where Giyu indicated. He got out of the car and Giyu followed suit, a little slower and a lot more clumsy. Sanemi wasn’t sure why he felt like he needed to make sure that Giyu got all the way to his apartment, but he’d sort of assumed responsibility for making sure he got home okay in his intoxicated state, and he didn’t want to go until he knew Giyu was in his own home. For all he knew, he’d fall down the stairs and break his neck if Sanemi wasn’t there to keep him from tripping over his own damn feet.
Giyu’s apartment was two floors up, and when they got to the door, Sanemi hesitated.
“Alright,” he said, “Well…Merry Christmas, I guess.”
“Wait,” Giyu said, “How are you getting back to your car?”
“Uber?” Sanemi suggested. "I was just going to wait down in the parking lot."
Giyu hesitated. “Well you could wait inside…Um, are you going back to the party?”
Sanemi chuckled. “Definitely not. I’ve got a couch at home that is calling my name.”
“Okay. So. If you wanted to come in then, and hold off on that uber… I’ve got hot chocolate, and Christmas movies…?” Giyu asked. He was blushing again. It wasn’t a bad look on him, the warmth in his cheeks making him glow a bit. Sanemi considered his co-worker. This was another new emotion. This bashfulness. It was…kind of cute.
“You’re asking me if I want to come in and drink hot chocolate and watch a movie with you?” Sanemi clarified.
Giyu blew out a breath, and said, “You’re right. It’s stupid.”
Sanemi shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “It’s not.”
“It’s not?” Giyu asked.
Sanemi gestured to the door, “We should go in though. It’s fucking cold out here.”
Giyu nodded and said in a faltering voice, “Yeah, okay, um, sure.”
So they went into Giyu’s apartment. Giyu boiled water and they made hot chocolate from cans of mix, and then sat on the couch and watched a version of A Christmas Carol that Sanemi had never seen. There was a safe amount of space between them on the couch.
When the credits were rolling, Sanemi sighed and stretched his arms above his head.
“I should get going,” he said, pulling his phone out to get an uber back to his own car.
“Hey,” Giyu said after Sanemi had put his phone back in his pocket.
Sanemi looked over at him. He had shifted a little closer on the couch. In the dim light, his eyes were deep and his hair was dark against his pale skin. Sanemi blinked, struck by how beautiful Giyu was. He cleared his throat, feeling a flush on his own cheeks at the thought.
“Um…” Giyu said slowly, “Thank you for taking me home. And for staying.”
“It wasn’t a problem. The company wasn’t awful either,” Sanemi said, a gentle tease. And it wasn't a lie. He felt oddly relaxed, sitting there beside Giyu.
“I’d…” Giyu said, his gaze skipped to Sanemi’s lips, and Sanemi knew where it was going. It seemed inevitable. He knew that he shouldn’t. He should get up, and he should leave, because Giyu was still drunk enough to make a mistake. And Sanemi wasn't sure that he had the will to not let him. He felt a little drunk himself, despite the lack of drinking he'd done, being here with this person that he hardly knew, this person he suddenly found himself decidedly attracted to.
Giyu pursed his lips, then said, “You are…very attractive.”
Sanemi flushed deeper. He didn't know how to respond. Giyu saved him from having to though. He leaned forward and said, “I'd like to kiss you.”
Sanemi breathed slowly. “You're drunk, Tomioka,”
“Yeah, but…” Giyu said. He shifted a bit closer, and Sanemi tensed. “...I've wanted to kiss you for a while. The alcohol is just…making me brave enough to ask…”
Sanemi closed his eyes. He could feel Giyu's eyes on him. They were so close now, only inches between them. This was not what he'd expected when he'd gone to the Christmas party; when he'd decided to sit with Giyu at the bar; when he'd offered to drive him home; when he'd come inside. But here they were, and Sanemi realized that he did want to kiss Giyu.
So he opened his eyes, leaned forward the last few inches, and his lips landed on Giyu's.
It was a tentative kiss, shy and unsure, neither of them confident that they weren't making a mistake. But slowly they moved closer together, and they relaxed. Sanemi pulled the tie from Giyu's hair so he could run his hands into it and feel it wrapped softly around his fingers. Giyu's fingertips touched his face, tentatively traced the scar on his cheek. Sanemi's lips parted and he tasted chocolate and whiskey on Giyu's tongue.
They were interrupted when Sanemi's phone rang, a two tone notification. His uber was outside. They separated reluctantly, breath warm between them.
“Thank you,” Giyu said softly, his thumb skimming Sanemi's bottom lip.
Sanemi touched his forehead to Giyu's. “I'll…see you at work, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Giyu nodded, then said, “Or…”
Sanemi sat back slightly, curious.
“Do you have plans for New Year's Eve?” Giyu asked, a little shy, a little hopeful.
“Just a date with my couch,” Sanemi said. He smiled, “I could…probably be convinced to cancel.”
“Okay, then…I'll text you?” Giyu said.
“Okay,” Sanemi agreed. His phone rang again. He stood up and Giyu followed, walking him to the door.
“Merry Christmas, Sanemi,” Giyu said.
Sanemi leaned in and kissed Giyu once more, brief, sweet, and murmured, “Merry Christmas.”