⠀ warnings: no jujutsu au, situationship/fwb to lovers
⠀ event masterlist ෆ
“please, please stop telling yuuji to do his mariah carey impression, i can only handle so much of his screeching.” you moan, hands over your ears as you tread up the stairs of choso and itadori’s shared apartment. the pink-haired male is still happily singing along to the woman’s christmas hit, but at a much farther distance away so you can hardly hear it now.
“i wouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t eat the last cookie from yesterday night.” choso says, peeking his head out from the hallway at the top of the stairs, eyebrow raised as he gives you an accusing look. “i even said i was saving it.”
“okay,” you mutter, swiping at his knee playfully as you walk past him to his bedroom, “calling dibs on it while i’m not around means nothing to me.”
choso is sprawled out on the bed when you reach his bedroom, the walls a contrasting dark blue to the light beige carpeting. his bedsheets are, as men are so often predictable, a dark navy with the odd pairing of gray pillowcases. there’s a collection of random objects and souvenirs living on his nightstand, but also scattered among them are your own things, as you’ve come to spend just as much time at choso’s apartment as your own.
“yeah,” he mutters, “well, i didn’t think you were heartless. taking a man’s cookie like that.”
you laugh, falling onto his body and relishing in the way his arms wind around your waist, holding you to him as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.
it’s strange—your not-quite relationship with choso. since the two of you have known each other, you’ve been magnets that just couldn’t stay away from one another, and yet neither of you have ever labeled what you were. there was exclusivity in your situation, but there wasn’t a label. you’d only sleep with him and vice versa, and yet there was no girlfriend-boyfriend feeling, no security in the fact that he could technically walk away from you at any minute.
you sigh softly, burying your face in his neck just enjoying the musky smell of him when you feel him shuffle a bit, as if moving to reach something. “you okay? want me to move?”
you can feel, more than you can see, him shake his head, body moving ever so slightly as you feel his hand come up to rest on the back of your head. “you’re okay, don’t worry.”
content to keep your wandering mind to yourself for once, you close your eyes sleepily as you imagine he’s on his phone doing who knows what. there was a point that you had worried maybe he was texting other girls, trying to find a connection that felt better than yours, but there was too much else to be worrying about—other things that required your time and energy and honestly, protecting your peace felt good. not stressing about his every move and his loyalty as a man that wasn’t truly yours was a lot nicer than being anxious about it. instead, you just wanted to enjoy his warmth and listen to his heart beating instead.
it’s this feeling, the feeling of the steady thump of his heart, that lulls you into a light sleep. dancing across your eyelids are you and choso, hands laced and heads pressed together as you laugh and whisper softly, secrets and joys shared between you both.
with a light jostling, choso wakes you with a soft ‘hey’ and unknown amount of time later. blinking, you look up at him as he presents something to you, a small velvet box with cursive gold embossment on the top of it. it makes your breath catch because despite the fact that the two of you have bought each other meals, and occasionally a sweater or a shirt, this was far fancier than what you’d bought him for christmas. you’re quickly snapped from your sleepy reverie to glance between the box and choso’s face in disbelief.
what you’d gotten him for christmas was just a nike hoodie that you had thought he would look good in, and that you were excited to take when his scent was more ingrained in it. while it was a self-indulgent gift, he enjoyed seeing you in his clothes and you were more excited to see his face when you wore it, than you were to see him actually open his gift.
“choso,” you murmur, eyes warily traveling from the velvety red box to his eyes. “you didn’t have to get me something so fancy.”
he didn’t have to get you anything at all, really. did situationships normally give each other gifts for christmas?
“i wanted to.” he mumbles, red slowly rising on the apples of his cheeks as he nudges the box in your direction. “open it, before i die of embarrassment.”
“you look like you’re going to die of embarrassment right now.” you tease, leaning up on one arm to gently take the box from him and laughing as he covers his face with an arm. the velvet is gentle against your fingertips and you notice that you’re shaking, suddenly realizing you’re almost scared to see how precious this gift is.
“i feel like i’m going to.” the words are muffled against his arm and with every breath, his chest is rising and falling sharply. you rub a soothing hand on his chest as you lift the lid of the little box, your own breath catching in your throat.
inside plush black satin, resting ever so prettily are a thin golden necklace and a matching bracelet. even with the limited natural light in choso’s room, the dainty bands sparkle, as if there was a spotlight hidden somewhere to show off their beauty. somehow, as if it were possible, the necklace and the bracelet aren’t the most surprising thing in the box. scrawled on a piece of paper in choso’s messing handwriting, is the simple phrase ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ in black ink. the question makes your heart flutter and immediately your eyes lock with his.
“are you serious?” you ask, mouth agape in sheer surprise. the tips of his ears have flushed bright red, by this point, and he nods shyly as he fiddles with the waistband of your pants. “oh my god, of course!”
you’re moving before you know what’s happening, choso leaning up to wrap you in a tight hug. his arms are wound around you, face buried in your neck as you laugh gently, closing the box and putting it on his sheets, content to put it on when he’s released you from his grasp.
“i was so nervous you were going to say no.” choso whispers into your neck, fingers gripping your clothes.
you shake your head. “i’d be stupid to say no.”
“merry christmas.” he leans back, eyes twinkling and the blush still ever present on his cheeks and ears. “i love you.”
pressing your lips together, hands pressed to both of his cheeks to pull him into you, you can feel a tightness in your chest lifting. his lips are as soft as they always are, lightly taste of vanilla and chocolate, and they slot perfectly against yours—just as he is perfect for you.
