Kis-My-Ft2, Christmas Date

Title: Christmas Date [Tamamori/Miyata]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for cuddling for warmth.
Summary: Tamamori agrees to go on a Christmas Date with Miyata, on one condition.
AN: Happy birthday, kira_shadow? This is totally not what she asked me for, but hopefully she’ll get something she wants in a couple days. Inspired by Duet asking them all about their Christmas dates and doing all the usual pairings.

Christmas Date

“I’ll have a Christmas date with you,” Tamamori answers, “if you can guess what kind of Christmas date I want.”

“R-really?” Miyata is brought up short by that, all the promises and flattery he had been planning to coax Tamamori with still heavy on his tongue. He’d been prepared to spend the two weeks leading up to Christmas involved in a relentless campaign to win Tamamori over to the idea, in fact.

Seems like he’ll have a lot more free time than expected.

“Mmhmm.” Tamamori turns back to the mirror and returns to pushing his bangs this way and that. “So long as you figure out exactly the right thing. I already know what it is, so work hard, ne.”

Miyata nods, determined. It’s a different challenge than Tamamori usually presents, but Miyata has faith he’ll still win in the end.

“If it’s for Tama-chan,” Miyata leans in to kiss Tamamori’s cheek, making Tamamori mumble that he’s gross, “I can do anything.”


He guesses all the obvious things in the first day or two, having dinner out, taking a walk to look at lights, going shopping, even a few suggestions that are a bit strange for the season, like taking a drive out to the ocean or having a picnic in the park.

“I didn’t think it’d be that hard to figure out what he wants,” Miyata admits to Nikaido while they’re waiting to have their turn with the photographer. “It’s not like he’s a complicated guy.”

“No, but not like he’s normal either,” Nikaido points out, and Miyata can’t argue so much with that. There’s a moment of companionable silence between them, broken only by Fujigaya wailing that the matching outfits are so embarrassing he’s going to die.

Miyata wonders if Fujigaya is ever going to figure out that it’s Kawai and Goseki putting Duet‘s staff up to this kind of thing.

“Are you taking Ken-chan out?” Miyata asks eventually.

Nikaido nods. “Course. He said billiards was fine so long as I take him shopping first. So we’re both happy, then.”

“Ah, haven’t asked about billiards,” Miyata adds that to his mental list. “We could double-date? Or maybe it’s that he wants to go out with the others?”

No, Tamamori tells him, none of that’s right either. “Keep trying,” he encourages, seemingly unconcerned. Miyata chooses to think Tamamori’s relaxed demeanor is being he has faith Miyata will come through, and not because he doesn’t care about their Christmas date.


When he runs out of guesses himself, Miyata turns to the other members for more, and when even Fujigaya and Senga’s rambling stream-of-consciousness ‘help’ has been exhausted, Miyata goes so far as to venture outside the group. He doesn’t have unlimited time, after all.

At the point where he’s listening to Kawai extol the virtues of the vending machine date, Hashimoto beside him nodding fervently and starry-eyed, Miyata senses that things have gone terribly far afield.

Turning to a trusted senpai seems like the only remaining option.


“You don’t want me to rent Tokyo Dome, right?” Miyata asks, actually a little nervous about the answer, but Tamamori just rolls his eyes at him.

“Idiot,” he says, snuggling closer under the blankets, heat turned off for the night already. It’s warm in their bed, though, Tamamori’s thigh in between Miyata’s and arms around his middle, face pressed into the curve of Miyata’s shoulder, both of them still getting used to the noises their apartment makes at night.

“You won’t even give me a hint?” Miyata says, pouting sadly at Tamamori. “Tama-chan, Christmas is tomorrow, though.”

“Nope.” Tamamori’s eyes flutter shut and he heaves a sigh of contentment. “I said, it’s your job to figure it out, so you’ll have to hurry it up.”

Miyata dutifully tries to keep thinking long after Tamamori’s breathing has evened out, wracking his brains despite how his limbs are heavy with exhaustion. Eventually his tiredness wins out and he drifts off, still fretting about their date.


In the morning, Miyata wakes with a start, the tip of his nose freezing with the chill of the room. Tamamori is heavy on his arm and stirs when Miyata has to tug it free, grimacing at the pins and needles.

“Mm,” Tamamori says as he rolls over, blinking at Miyata from under sleep-stuck eyelids. “Glad you figured it out.”

“Eh?” Miyata asks, still mostly asleep and with no idea what Tamamori is talking about. Was he talking in his sleep?

Tamamori throws an arm over Miyata’s waist and snuggles as close as he can, humming as he poaches Miyata’s body heat. “Took you long enough. I was worried I wouldn’t get my Christmas date after all.”

“What date?” Miyata shoves at Tamamori’s shoulder when he doesn’t answer right away. “Tama-chan, I’ll do anything you want today, but how can we go on a date if I don’t even know what it is?”

“Idiot.” Tamamori opens his eyes long enough to eye Miyata, then they scrunch shut again as he yawns. “We’re on it right now.”

Miyata frowns. “You mean…just this?” He feels sort of cheated, after all that guessing and planning he’d been doing, but it fades when Tamamori brushes lips across his shoulder.

“Obviously,” Tamamori says. “Home party.” It makes Miyata chuckle and relax. He presses a kiss to Tamamori’s forehead and is content to doze in the warm nest of blankets next to Tamamori a while longer.

Eventually he insists, despite Tamamori’s protests, that he at least be allowed to go out to the combini so that they can have breakfast in bed. Tamamori relents when he’s promised melon bread, and he’s already nearly back to sleep by the time Miyata finishes throwing on jeans and a hoodie.

Outside the air is crisp and chill, and Miyata enjoys his walk to the corner Lawson’s, even pausing to laugh at some of their Jimusho-mates’ more ridiculous combini promotions, not to mention what’s on the magazine rack. It isn’t until the walk home that the cold air finally wakes up his brain enough to think what Tamamori’s weirdo date is really about.

It’s their first Christmas in their apartment, Miyata realizes, and then feels just as stupid as Tamamori says he is for not realizing earlier. What Tamamori really wanted was just to spend the morning in their new home, just to be together. The thought sends a wash of warmth through Miyata so powerful he can barely feel the cold seeping through his sneakers, followed by another wave made up of just how much he loves Tamamori. He has to use his sleeve to scrub away the sudden tears that spring up, chuckling at himself for being such a complete girl.

When he unlocks their front door and comes in quietly, as he’s toeing off his sneakers he notices the silly fake Christmas tree that he bought from the 100 yen store just to make Tamamori call him a moron. He’d thrown the pack of cheap ornaments that came with it on haphazardly, but they’ve been rearranged, he sees now. With new eyes, he glances around and notices their schedules taped neatly to the fridge, the blanket from Tamamori’s old room thrown over the back of the couch, the adhesive hooks for their jackets stuck to the wall. Tamamori’s been quietly making this their home for weeks without Miyata being at all aware of it.

“I’m home,” he says to the apartment, really feeling that way, the whole way through, for the first time.

In their room, Tamamori looks like he hasn’t moved an inch since Miyata left, but when Miyata undresses and crawls back in with him, Tamamori’s kiss is mint-flavored.

“Welcome home,” Tamamori says, then grunts when Miyata suddenly squeezes him as tightly as he can. Miyata buries his face in Tamamori’s chest, trying to get some words out past the lump in this throat. “What’s that about?’

“Nothing,” Miyata finally manages, relaxing against Tamamori when Tamamori’s fingers start stroking through his hair. “This is the best Christmas date ever.”

“Really?” Tamamori asks, suspicious. When Miyata pulls back to look, under the sleepiness, Tamamori seems a bit embarrassed himself. “You don’t think it’s silly?”

“It’s perfect,” Miyata assures, “just being next to you is perfect,” and then Tamamori kisses him, probably to shut him up, but Miyata doesn’t care at all. And maybe he should have turned the heater back on before getting into bed, but if he had then Tamamori wouldn’t roll them over so that Miyata was covering him from head to foot, sighing happily at Miyata’s warmth sinking into his skin.

Trailing kisses down Tamamori’s neck, Miyata sets about making Tamamori too warm to want the heater on anyway.

By late morning, Miyata feels entirely satisfied with life, stomach full of melon bread and Tamamori dozing away the last little while before they have to get up. Miyata watches him, snuffling facedown in the pillow, with affection, and then reaches for his phone. He’d been thinking about taking Tamamori out to dinner later anyway, but now he has a much better idea.

From: To: group1
[Nabe party at me and Tama’s place tonight? I know some of you have plans, but wouldn’t you rather have a Home Party???]

He adds some sparkles and hearts and sends it, then acts entirely innocent when Tamamori’s phone wakes him up chiming with the new mail. After fumbling his phone open and reading it, Tamamori calls him a moron and kicks him a little, but he’s smiling too, and Miyata feels warm all over even before he drags Tamamori out of bed and into the shower.

It really has been the best Christmas so far, Miyata thinks, and he hopes the rest of their unit will be easily won over by the promise of food and Tamamori’s cute pout. Because the two of them are home, and Miyata can’t wait to share that with the people that mean most to them in the world.

2 people like this post.

  • By ri, 2012.08.26 @ 5:19 pm

    awwwww this is so cute. :3 i like how miyata kept failing only to find out tama didn’t want to do shit. lmao sounds about right. the line about kawai and goseki being responsible for taipi’s hard life killed me.

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