27 December 2009 @ 09:41 pm
Fic: Of Snowy Afternoons  

Title: Of Snowy Afternoons
Author: breathless_dawn
Rating: G
Pairing: Leon/Yuffie
Disclaimer: Mr. Nomura is a lucky man, but suffice it to say, I am not he. Nor am I Square or Disney. *sigh*
A/N: A gift written for [livejournal.com profile] iki_teru for the [livejournal.com profile] kh_drabble Secret Santa exchange. Beware of low-flying fluff.  


Aerith goes a bit overboard decorating the house for the holidays. She manages to scrounge up some holly and mistletoe, and Merlin magics colourful lights up around the eves. It’s not long before it looks like something plucked from a child’s storybook – a red and green whirl of colour and lights, with nearly a foot of snow to complete the picture.

Cid tries to stay out of the house as much as possible, to avoid garland hitting him in the face on the way out the door and the constant jingling coming from the bells Yuffie has tied to her boots. Cloud has disappeared, again, and Leon, who is usually the only male left in the house while Aerith cooks dozens upon dozens of cookies to give out to the residents of the Bastion, and Yuffie bounds around singing off-key Christmas carols, does his best to ignore everything they say.

One day, Aerith suggests that he dress up as Santa Clause and deliver presents on Christmas. “For the children,” she says over her shoulder, while mixing chocolate chips into her cookie batter. Yuffie apparently thinks this is a ridiculous idea because she bursts out laughing as soon as the words leave Aerith’s mouth.

“Can you imagine him dressed in a red suit, letting a bunch of kids sit on his lap?” She laughs again and grins at him, “I think you’d scare them, Squally.” And with that, she takes a handful of chocolate chips and skips out the door. They can hear her jingling all the way down the street. Leon remains silent through this exchange (he thinks it will be safer that way), but takes the opportunity to leave when it presents itself and mumbles something about checking on the Bailey.

“Wait,” Aerith says, taking Yuffie’s coat out of the closet and holding it out to him. He suppresses a sigh and takes it before trudging out the door and into the cold.

The wind whistles around the corners of the buildings and bites at his exposed skin. Chasing Yuffie around in the middle of a snowstorm all afternoon was decidedly not what he had in mind when he left the house. After walking for a few minutes, he finds two small silver bells nestled neatly in the snow – the same ones that had been tied to Yuffie’s boots. He knows she’s around here somewhere, trying to play some sort of joke, and considers abandoning the quest altogether and simply leaving the coat there for her to find. But he also knows there’s a chance she won’t wear it, stubbornly insisting that it wasn’t cold, and Yuffie will inevitably end up with frostbite or pneumonia.

He sighs and begins to wonder idly when he became such a sap, when something cold and wet connects with the side of his head. He whips around to see Yuffie standing precariously on the roof of one of the buildings across the way. “Gotcha!” she calls through cupped hands, grinning.

Leon pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. Because she couldn’t just settle on doing something stupid, she had to do something stupid and dangerous. “Yuffie, get down before you break your neck.”

“Spoil sport!” She pelts another snowball at him. He brushes the snow impatiently from the shoulder of his jacket and stares up at her until she rolls her eyes and neatly somersaults onto the snowy ground. “You know, you need to get a sense of humour, Grumpy—!”

When she wipes the snow from her eyes, Leon raises an eyebrow expectantly at her and a wide grin splits her face. “You asked for it, Squallykins.”

He throws the coat over her head and pushes her lightly into the snow. “That’s Leon.”

After twenty minutes of ducking behind walls and throwing countless snowballs at each other, they head for home, soaked and pink in the face. Leon pulls open the door, but Yuffie lingers in the doorway. “Hey, Squall?”

He turns to her. “It’s Le—” But she cuts him off with her lips on his. Her cold fingers brush across his cheek.

It only lasts a moment, but when she pulls back, he can feel his cheeks reddening. “Yuffie…what – ?”

She grins and points at the mistletoe dangling above their heads. “Merry Christmas, Squall,” she singsongs and skips off to her room.

Aerith gives him a knowing smile as he pulls the door closed. “Did you have a nice time?” she asks and he makes a mental note to follow Cid out when he leaves the next morning.

 
 
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