Chapter Text
Carrying a small container of gingerbread cookies made over the weekend, you quickly make your way to Shiemi, Izumo, and Paku. “Hey, you mentioned you like gingerbread cookies, right?” You wrap your left arm around Shiemi as you get closer to her. “On Saturday, I baked some with Amaimon. We even made gingerbread men and houses.” You hand the container to Shiemi before reaching into your pocket for your phone. “Though they only lasted long enough to take a photo.” You roll your eyes, remembering how Amaimon didn’t understand why you had to build the house first. Decorating the gingerbread men was fine, but when it came to assembling the houses, he couldn’t see the point and just wanted to eat everything. They may not be the most aesthetically pleasing houses, but you believe that you could nearly perfect them with a bit more practice. Yet, you know that’s unlikely to happen with Amaimon around. “I managed to save a few cookies for everyone.”
Izumo raises a brow as she looks at the photo. “You made gingerbread cookies with Amaimon?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t easy getting everything together,” you quickly explain how he ate all the candy and most of the cookies meant for building the house, and when you made him remake it, he even tried to eat the dough. “He’s lucky I love him,” you snort.
Izumo gives you a look of disbelief. “You’re making it sound weirdly cute.”
“What do you mean weirdly cute?”
“Does he suddenly become a sweet guy when it’s just the two of you? From the way you’re describing him, he sounds like a completely different person. Typically, he seems emotionless or even rude. From what I’ve seen, he even behaves emotionless around you." As Izumo speaks, Paku and Shiemi nod in agreement.
You raise a brow. “Honestly, I think it’s cute. It’s one of the weird quirks I like about him. But, he’s not emotionless towards me; he’s actually kind of clingy.”
“Really?”
“Oh!” Shiemi says, looking thoughtful. “Now that I think about it, he does often hold your hand, but I don’t see any emotion from him when he does.”
“I kind of thought it was because _____ would take his hand and he just doesn’t pull away,” Paku awkwardly admits.
You shake your head. “No, it’s usually him who—what’s he doing?” You watch as Amaimon strides down the hall toward you, an unusual eagerness in his demeanor. “Can I help you?” you ask him, he usually avoids your friends and rarely approaches you when you’re with them, unless he feels you’ve been away from him for too long.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questions in a monotone, giving you a blank stare. Izumo gives you a pointed look that basically screams he’s emotionless. “Tell you what?”
Unbothered by the others around, Amaimon shoves himself between them to get closer to you. When he’s almost nose to nose with you, he gently pushes you back, creating some distance from your friends. Then, without warning, he leans in and presses his lips against yours.
“Amaimon, it’s against the rules to-“
“But there’s mistletoe.”
“What?”
He points up. You tilt your head back to see some mistletoe attached to the ceiling that you know wasn’t there a minute ago. “Did you put mistletoe there?”
He nods. “Yes, we’re under mistletoe, so we kiss.”
“Who told you about mistletoe?”
“I read it in one of Big Brother’s books.” He shifts his attention from you to Shiemi, who still holds the container of cookies. “Why do you have my cookies?” Irritation creeps into his tone. “Amaimon, I gave them to her. They really like gingerbread cookies, so—”
“I don’t care,” he said, rudely snatching the cookies from her hands. “I made them, so they’re mine.”
“We made them, and we can make more. I wanted my friends to try them.”
“No.”
“Amaimon.”
“They’re my cookies.”
You frown. “At least give them one each.” There are about fifteen in the container.
“No.”
“All right, then,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Amaimon remains unfazed by your obvious annoyance, his attention solely on the coveted gingerbread cookies.
Izumo rolls her eyes and turns to Shiemi and Paku. “Let’s go.”
Amaimon turns to you as they walk away, but you brush him off.
“Just eat your cookies, Amaimon.”
You walk past him, confident in his intention to follow you. Sure enough, you feel him fall into step behind you—the aroma of gingerbread fills the air as he opens the container to eat the cookies.
You take a few steps down the hallway, letting out a sigh as you quickly turn into your empty classroom. With fifteen minutes to spare before class begins and students still outside socializing, you make your way to your desk. Almost instantly, you feel Amaimon beside you; he glances at your face before gripping the back of your jacket and pulling you onto his lap.
"Are..." he begins, taking a bite of another cookie. You watch as his eyes close in delight, a soft hum rumbling in his chest.
“Are what?”
His golden eyes snap open and lock onto yours, filled with seriousness despite the cookie crumbs stuck in the corners of his mouth. “Are you angry with me for taking the cookies?"
You gently wipe away the cookie crumbs from his mouth. "Not really,” you tease, drawing out your words as your fingers trace his lips. "But you have to share them with me."
A smug grin spreads across his face. He breaks off a small piece of gingerbread and brings it to your lips. The gingerbread melts in your mouth, and its sweetness spreads against your tongue.
Amaimon’s eyes are trained on your every reaction, studying how your eyes flutter shut in delight as a hum of approval escapes your lips. “You’re lucky I love you,” you comment, taking the cookie from his hand. He watches you eat it before pointing up again. When you follow where he’s pointing, you shake your head. “Seriously?” Mistletoe hangs above your heads. “Of course, the demon king of Earth can make mistletoe appear everywhere.”
With a smirk, Amaimon leans in and captures your lips in yet another sweet kiss, the taste of gingerbread still lingering on both your tongues. You let the moment stretch, allowing your hands to wander through the tousled strands of his dark green hair. When he finally pulls away, the smirk remains firmly in place.
Unwilling to let him have the last word, you snatch another cookie from the container clutched in his hand. Amaimon looks at you with wide eyes
"_____" His protest goes ignored as you pop a piece of the cookie into your mouth first before offering him the rest.
"We’re sharing, remember?" you explain with a grin.
Amaimon accepts the offered cookie with a somewhat reluctant demeanor. He takes a bite, leaves half of it for you, and then tilts his head upwards again to point at more mistletoe he’s summoned.
"You're really enjoying this Christmas tradition, aren't you?" You can't help but laugh at his antics, the sound echoing lightly in the otherwise empty classroom.
"This one is fun," he says before pulling you into another kiss.