Christmas Dance [xxxHolic, G]

Title: Christmas Dance
Fandom: xxxHolic
Rating: G
Word count: 1,281
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Summary: Watanuki has a very unusual way of asking a girl to a dance.


There was one month until the dance. Watanuki knew his mission: to ask Himawari before anyone else snatched her up. Tickets went on sale today. The first step was to buy a pair. Once he saw the stall set up in the foyer, he marched purposefully towards it, reciting the magic words that were the first part of the spell towards happiness: ‘two tickets, please’.

He marched straight past. He didn’t want to be too eager, after all. He had to play it cool to entice her, didn’t he? He could wait a couple of days to get the tickets. Then it would look like he wasn’t too worried about it. Perfect. Cool and casual, just like Doumeki would be. He wondered what Doumeki was doing for the Christmas dance.

He brought the subject up as they walked home, glancing around furtively as though dangerous information was about to be shared. Knowing Doumeki’s fans, it might be.

“You going to the Christmas dance?” he asked, keeping his voice light.

“Maybe.”

“Going with anyone?”

“Dunno.”

“No one you want to ask?”

Doumeki just shrugged. Watanuki clenched a fist.

“How can you not know, you smug bastard?” he yelled, then stormed ahead. “See you tomorrow!”

A week later, he still hadn’t bought the tickets. Maybe he didn’t want to go to the stupid dance. He’d only look stupid, dressed in a stupid tuxedo and forced to do stupid dances. And stupid Doumeki might not even be there. Of course, he might be alone with Himawari. Which would be good, naturally, but…

He couldn’t finish that train of thought. Luckily, he had a distraction. A number of girls had been hovering around Doumeki like flies for the past week, each trying to work up the courage to ask him, or so Watanuki grumpily assumed. One was now tentatively shuffling closer to Doumeki’s desk, winding strands of hair around a finger.

“Uh, Doumeki? You going to the dance?” she asked, perching on the end of the desk in front of him. Watanuki flicked through his textbook, deciding he had more interest in his studies than what that damn Doumeki was doing.

“Maybe.” And that jerk hadn’t even decided yet! Like he didn’t care about it! Well, Watanuki didn’t care either. He glowered at the words in his textbook, which were maliciously making themselves unrecognisable. He didn’t care about them, either.

“Would you, um, you know? Like to, er, go with me?” She continued to fidget with her hair, but now her gaze had fallen to the floor. Watanuki’s, on the other hand, was attempting to pierce her.

“Sorry, I was thinking of asking someone else.” That stole Watanuki’s attention completely. That jerk, telling some stupid girl more of his plans than he had told to the closest thing he had to a friend! Watanuki didn’t need such people. Maybe he would eat Doumeki’s bento, just to punish him.

But when the dance was only three days away, Watanuki hadn’t heard anything about Doumeki asking anyone. He hadn’t asked any more about it, because it was the stupid jerk’s turn now. He crunched down on his food, not even tasting it, snapping it in his mouth and glowering at Doumeki.

“So are you two going to the dance?” Himawari asked, wiping her hands on a napkin. Watanuki realised he had forgotten to ask her. Probably too distracted by that damn jerk. Stupid Doumeki, forcing him to pay less attention to Himawari.

“Dunno. You?” Doumeki replied, stealing a piece of tempura from Watanuki’s box.

“Hey!” Watanuki yelled, trying and failing to snatch it back from Doumeki before it was popped in the other boy’s mouth. Himawari laughed and shook her head.

“I’m going away for the holidays. You two should go and tell me what it was like!”

And so he couldn’t have gone with Himawari anyway. Watanuki stayed in a sulk all day, whilst the moron simply sat around in class like he didn’t even notice. Some friend he was.

He went to Yuuko’s store in a foul mood. Somehow, she managed to pick up on it. Maybe it was the way he yelled at Mokona for being a stupid round thing as soon as he entered. Maybe it was the way he slammed things down. Maybe it was the way he constantly muttered ‘damn, damn, damn bastard Doumeki’.

“Watanuki, do tell what he has done to you now,” she purred. “After you bring me another couple of bottles of sake, of course.”

He relayed the story, emphasising Doumeki’s cruelty, with jewelled outbursts including ‘he was planning to ask someone’ (ask currently meaning ‘to maim, rape and kill’, judging by the venom with which he spat the word), ‘I didn’t ask Himawari because of his messing about!” and “it’s all his fault”. Yuuko smirked throughout the heavy shelling of Watanuki’s complaints. She drained the last of the sake and dropped the final bottle onto the table.

“So why didn’t you just ask him?”

“What the hell are you on about?” Watanuki demanded, seizing the bottle from the table to be refilled. “I didn’t want to ask him, I wanted to ask Himawari! Weren’t you listening at all?”

“More than you were. You had plenty of opportunities to ask her, but you spent all your time thinking about what Doumeki was doing. Make it a little hotter, this time!” He snatched the bottle and stormed off, muttering about Yuuko talking nonsense. There was no truth in it. None at all. He didn’t want that. It was just…just…

He brought the bottle back to Yuuko. “He said he was going to ask someone, didn’t he?” he asked, his voice flat. “There’s no point.”

She simply smiled vaguely up at him. “Find out.”

His heart raced the next morning from the second he woke. He knew what he needed to do. It was simple. Ask if he was going to the dance. Ask if he was going with anyone. And then somehow convey in a natural, friendly sort of way if he wanted to go with him. As friends. Unless Doumeki was interested in another way, in which case it would be as something else. All whilst sounding suave and charming. He groaned and collapsed onto his pillow again.

He left his flat. He walked down along the street, towards the shrine, where Doumeki was already waiting for him. He attempted to flash a smile, but all he succeeded in was a faint glow like a torch running on the final drop of energy.

“Hey, Doumeki,” he said, cursing the quaver in his voice. “So, going to the dance tomorrow?”

“They’re out of tickets.”

Watanuki’s jaw dropped, as did the bag he was carrying. He didn’t notice. “THEY’RE OUT OF TICKETS BEFORE I COULD ASK YOU TO GO WITH ME?”

“Yeah, I checked after Kunogi said she couldn’t come.” Doumeki looked quizzically at Watanuki for a moment.

“I mean – wait, after? You mean-” Watanuki flailed, attempting to cover up his outburst and understand Doumeki at the same time. He pointed a finger at Doumeki’s face. “Explain!”

“I was going to ask you if you couldn’t go with her.” His face was as impassive as ever.

“HOW CAN YOU CONFESS YOUR FEELINGS SO EMOTIONLESSLY?” Watanuki roared, clenching his fists. “I went through such turmoil this last night!”

“Everything I said could have been taken in a platonic way, idiot.” Watanuki’s face dropped into a look of horror. “But since you seem to have changed your mind about me…” He grabbed hold of the rigid Watanuki and kissed him in the middle of the street. Gradually, a shadow of pressure was applied back to his lips and it escalated from there.