#anyway there was a whole subplot of goldman/cindy that didnt make it in but your honor i love them

[infinites-chaser]

on corgis and christmas | mlqc | victor/mc | holiday fluff

this is a Secret Santa present for @beautynaturalmoon from the Loveland Cuties Discord Server :3 🎁 Merry Christmas ⛄ to the cutest chibi MC~

The first thing Victor notices when he walks into his office is that there’s something on his desk. There have been things on his desk for the past few days, but between their unassuming nature— pens and notebooks and papers, all of them— and the way Goldman had been nervously eyeing his reaction to them on his way in to pick up a round of reports and deliver even more, Victor’d assumed they were his assistant’s idea of an early Christmas present. Alternatively, a not-so-subtle way for him to ask Victor for an early vacation.

But the monstrosity of holiday cheer that sits on his desk today indicates he’s been thinking of the wrong person as culprit all along: the one leaving the presents hasn’t been Goldman at all. No, the green and red adorned corgi pudding (complete with whipped cream santa hat) brings only one person to mind: you.

“Dummy,” he mutters, exasperated tone at odds with the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Does she think she’s on holiday already?”

Down in the LFG building’s lobby, you stare at your empty phone screen, brow furrowed, mouth pursed into a small, petulant pout.

“He should’ve seen it by now, right?” You complain aloud. “Why hasn’t Goldman told me his reaction yet?”

Seated across from you, Cindy giggles.

“Don’t be too impatient, hm? CEO Li’s probably giving him an earful about ‘getting distracted by the holiday season,’ he does it to at least one employee every year, and Goldman’s just been unlucky enough to have gotten the speech every year since he started working as the CEO’s personal assistant.”

“You’re saying Victor doesn’t like Christmas?”

She leans in close, beckons you in with a conspiratorial grin.

“See, the CEO’s a bit of a Scrooge, y’know? Never seems to enjoy Christmas beyond what profit the company could make off of it, and he never comes to a single holiday party— it’s a shame, really! We all wish he’d come so we could thank him for all he does for us with some wine and presents, and he could destress, too, but it doesn’t seem like he really likes the holidays at all! It’s a mystery!”

Before you can reply, your phone buzzes. Goldman. Or, at the very least, you hope it is. The thing is, you’ve been trying to figure out what to get Victor for Christmas since the beginning of December. With Cindy’s help, you’d wheedled Goldman into leaving little presents in Victor’s office, in the hopes that he’d react well to one and you’d be able to get him the bigger and better version of it when the twenty-fifth rolled around. Only, the problem was, Victor hardly had a reaction to anything you’d had Goldman leave in his office, not even the things you’d considered more sensible and to his mature tastes.

All Goldman ever reported back was that Victor, upon seeing the gifts, sighed and frowned. And if he suddenly was saddled with an extra work assignment afterwards, well, that was just Victor being Victor, not necessarily any sign of him reacting one way or another to your gifts. Frankly speaking, it was becoming frustrating, especially with Christmas around the corner and you with no better idea of what to get Victor than you’d had at the beginning of the month.

While of course, after failing to get a response out of him, you could’ve asked the CEO himself, it had just so happened that LFG’s end-of-year fundraiser had received an unexpected surge in donations following Victor’s reluctant appearance on Miracle Finder’s holiday special. The episode had done extremely well ratings-wise, and you’d been proud of it, as well as proud of the extra attention it’d given to LFG, but that success had kept Victor busy, and had kept you from being able to brag about it to him, let alone ask him what he’d maybe hypothetically possibly want for Christmas.

Now that you think about it, it seems like it’s been weeks since you’ve heard Victor’s trademark “Dummy.” You’d never admit it to him, but, you miss it. Just a little. Which was why you’d decided to make the overly festive corgi pudding, hoping he’d see it and think of you.

When you check your phone, you try your best to suppress a sigh. It’s only Anna, asking for updates, complete with a winky emoji that would’ve made you laugh, normally, only, you wish it were a text from Goldman instead.

“No luck?” Cindy prompts. You shake your head, trying not to look too crestfallen. Still, the other woman offers you a sympathetic smile.

“Worst comes to worst,” she says, “You can take him shopping with you on Christmas Day and make him pick out his own present.”

Her smile turns mischievous.

“If it comes to that, make our good CEO pay for his present himself.”

“Cindy!”

You swat at her, but she dodges with a giggle.

“On that note,” she remarks breezily, with a exaggerated glance at her watch, “It looks like my break’s over.”

“Is it now?”She grins again. The grin reads, I’m late.

“I think CEO Li should consider cutting your salary for this,” you grumble.

“Careful, our Scrooge must be rubbing off on you,” she replies with another giggle, then sobers up. “But really, you shouldn’t worry so much, alright? All of us employees, we can see how much the CEO cares about you. I’m sure no matter what you get him, it’ll be something he’ll treasure and appreciate.”

“Thanks Cindy.”

You manage a smile and a parting wave as she hurries off.

After she leaves, barely a minute passes before you check your phone. Nothing. Again. This time, you don’t bother suppressing your sigh.

The logical part of your brain knows Victor’s busy with work, and Goldman and Cindy, too, and you’re glad that LFG got the extra attention it deserved after Victor’s guest appearance. Only— it doesn’t quite feel like the holidays when he’s still working, and you’re stuck failing to brainstorm gifts.

Five more minutes, you tell yourself. Five more minutes to wait for a text from Goldman, then you’ll leave and find something better to do than sulk in LFG’s lobby. Something better to do, of course, meaning sulking somewhere a little more private.

Four minutes of nothing pass. Then, your phone buzzes. It’s Goldman.

You open the text as fast as your phone will let you.

Goldman: Does CEO Li not know how to wink?

You blink. Did I read that wrong? You wonder.

Your phone buzzes again.

Goldman: oh no wrong person

And again.

Goldman: But actually, you’d know, wouldn’t you? Does he not know how to wink!?

You’re too confused to be mad at the lack of an update from Goldman. Instead, you rack your brain, trying your hardest to remember if you’ve ever seen Victor wink

....No? Is your final reply, followed by an, or at least, I’ve never seen him wink?

Then, the smallest bit of reason sets in.

Why?????? You begin to type. But before you can send the message, a familiar voice startles you, and your phone slips from your hands.

“I should’ve known you were here when Cindy took a two hour long lunch break.”

“Victor!”

You whip around in your seat, and stand quickly, heedless of how your phone’s jostled from your lap to the floor. Victor, your mind echoes, and some painful knot of worry lodged in your heart loosens, and it finally seems to beat freely again at a rhythm you’d like to think is in tune with his.

“Next time just tell me if you want to see me, dummy,” he says, with a weary, but adoring smile. “Don’t enlist my employees in your hare-brained schemes.”

You puff out your cheeks and pout.

“Wasn’t hare-brained if it worked,” you reply, but your words are muffled when he steps forward and pulls you into a long, lingering embrace. The two of you stay like that for a moment: he lets his head rest atop yours, one hand coming up to stroke, then cradle your hair, the other settling around your waist, holding you close and firm. You press closer, shut your eyes against the warmth of his chest and let his heartbeat fill your ears.

You’re here, his heart seems to whisper, a secret Morse code message written into his pulse’s pounding.

I missed you, your heart taps out in return.

“Dummy,” he murmurs, soft and low— the voice you’d been missing the weeks he’d been busy, and the endearment, too.

You have a hundred things you want to say to him, I hope you’ve been eating properly, you look tired, get some rest, I love you, I’m worried, even more you’d like to ask him, Are you finished with work? Can I help in any way? and the all-important, What do you want for Christmas? but what comes out of your mouth is:

“Why does Goldman think you can’t wink?”

You freeze the moment the question leaves your mouth. You’re glad your face is hidden in his chest, you’re sure your cheeks are flaming red. You’ve said plenty of dumb things in front of Victor, a fact he’ll never let you forget, but you’re sure this tops the list.

He inhales. You brace yourself for a well-deserved insult. But to your surprise, he laughs, his chuckles reverberating through his chest, from his warm heart to warm yours.

“Dummy,” he repeats, softer, his exhale gentle and fond. “What nonsense has Goldman been telling you?”

“Actually, don’t answer that. The more important question is, why was there a garish corgi pudding on my desk this morning?”

“I-I don’t know,” you hastily reply. “But Victor, can you wink?”

“Do you like Christmas?” He asks instead of answering, pulling back just enough from your arms to look you in the eye, gaze steady and firm. You nod, your cheeks still flushed.

“Then was that a sorry attempt at getting me into the holiday spirit?”

You nod again. He smiles.

“You don’t need to do anything like that. I’ve never seen the point of the holiday, but if you want to enjoy it together, all you have to do is tell me.”

“It’s no fun if I’m forcing you,” you say with a pout. He scoffs.

“You think you could force me?”

“Christmas to me hasn’t ever been about the decorations or music or gift-giving. It’s been about— loved ones. Spending each moment of time with them. Making precious, unforgettable memories, each one like a souvenir.”

He pauses. Then, more softly: “Making sure there won’t be any regrets.”

“Regrets?” You echo. He pulls you close again.

“Regrets,” he murmurs, almost too quiet for you to hear, “like someone you love leaving your life too soon.”

You think of Victor’s distant father. You remember phone calls to his mother’s old number, conversations held with her memory, her ghost, across time. You think of people lost too soon, of people leaving, like your father. But you also think of Souvenir. You think of two puddings’ shared taste, preserved through time, a flavor that led you back to him. Maybe sometimes things are lost too soon, you think, but if we don’t keep moving forward, then, they’ll surely never be found again.

“Victor,” you say. “We’ll share every moment of the holidays together and make this Christmas unforgettable, alright?”

His arms tighten around you.

“Alright.”

“Only,” you say quickly, a little grin making its way across your face, “that’ll involve more things like the ‘garish corgi pudding’ and decorations and gift-giving. That’s part of what makes the holidays so magical and special, you know!”

He snorts.

“I doubt it’s the pudding in particular that does it,” he says drily. “But. Alright. If you say so. If it makes you happy, I’m sure I could be happy with it, too. As long as the reason’s not too stupid.”

“It’s a promise,” you say.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“A promise,” he replies, and from his voice, you can tell he’s smiling.

“Okay then,” you say, grin widening. “Victor, what do you want for Christmas?”