#bought a bottle of wine and going to the movies merry fucking christmas i guess

[sluttybibuck]

first christmas im spending alone in years and i just cried listening to all too well 10 minute version 😔✌🏼

[guessimwritingficsagain]

To been seen, part Four (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : You get a text. You freak out.

Author’s note : I am very very soft for Frankie.

Also, I have a few days off and I thought I have been really self-indulgent so : the cheese gift really happened to me (best birthday ever, he got me a Mont d'Or because he knew I had planned on eating one with my best friend to celebrate), the Edward Scissorchands movie thing really happened to me, and the "date" with the grandma too. In France, the Opera is often showed in movie theaters. When I was a teenager, I thought it was quite the event, though. So I got invited. Next thing we saw together with that guy was the movie Black Swan and I made sure someone was tagged along.

The holidays came and went in a blur of laughter, hot chocolate was big sweaters. You were happy. And Jessie was happy too. January came, and went, too. Everything was slow. So you watched the movie you’d bought, and a bunch of others too.

February was over before you knew it, and when March warmed up the air, you found yourself, one morning, looking at the screen of your phone like the message would disappear if you blinked. You turned your eyes to the cupboard that contained the empty box of chocolate that sat there, hidden from the sniggering remarks of Linda, and looked back at the screen. The text message was still there. You put the phone down, abruptly, fingers tingling and burning and went to get a glass of water. Your eyes landed on the bottle of wine, still unopened, and you almost spilled your drink. You went back to your phone in a hurry, opened the chat you shared with your friends and sent

Who the fuck gave Francisco fucking Morales my phone number ?????

You waited, breathing hard, hoping anyone would answer. Nothing came, not right away. Phone on the table again, you slumped on the couch, nervous breakdown on its way. You couldn’t do it, there was no way you could do that, you couldn’t, that would kill you, you wouldn’t survive this.

Time floated for a while, up until your phone vibrated and you jumped. You’d been so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed everyone had answer, Anna, Jessie and Linda with a simple « not me » but James …

James had sent a

Go get some

And an eggplant emoji.

James, then.

Okay.

Okay.

You were fine. You could answer a text. You knew the drill, by now. You knew how to pretend you were not freaking out every time Frankie did something unexpected and kind, like that time he offered you chocolate and a bottle of wine for Christmas. You had coping mechanisms, now, to hide the fact you had a doctorate in yearning.

You’d replayed the Christmas Scene so many times in your head you sometimes thought you made it up, but the reminders were there, in your flat.

You’re replaying it now.

You’re getting out of your car, with ten minutes to spare before work starts. It’s almost six. You spot Frankie’s truck on the parking lot and you’re a bit surprised but mostly delighted, even more so when you see the man himself jogging towards you. It takes you a minute to see he’s holding presents. By the time he gets to you, you’re confused. He smiles a breathy hello before handing you what he’s got in his hands. You stare at the neatly wrapped packages for a bit, like the dumbass you are, unable to put two and two together. Maybe it’s for Clara ?

It must be for Clara.

You take them. Say thank you. And Frankie answers :

« Open them. »

Your braincells must have left the building like God in Supernatural, gone off to do the Macarena dance somewhere very far away because all you can answer is what and you know you sound like a dumbass and you feel like one too.

The lack of reaction is getting to Frankie, you can tell, because he’s rubbing the back of his neck and you feel bad that he’s embarrassed so you say :

« You got me presents ? »

Well, except you don’t really say it. More squeal it. Or shriek it. You’re not sure. It feels like a repeat of that moment a boy you’d liked but never made a move on offered you fucking cheese on your birthday and was all embarrassed about it and you didn’t know what to do or say because his birthday had been a few days before yours and you didn’t get him anything.

You add, for good measure, because why the hell not :

« But I didn’t get you anything. »

Like maybe he’s going to take them back, or maybe the moment is going to rewind except you don’t want it to rewind because Frankie has gifts for you, just for you.

Maybe he got something for Jessie and Anna, too ? You wonder. And Linda. You know he goes there to buy books. Maybe he showed up and got her some stuff. Not books, you hope. Stupid to buy books to a bookseller.

All of this goes through your mind and in the meanwhile Frankie’s waiting and when you finally put your bag down on the hood of your car to carefully open the first present, your body finally moving, you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes Frankie. It’s a box of chocolate, a fancy one at that. You recognize the brand. You hold it for a while, before you set it down with your bag and say thank you in a voice that’s way too small. You open the second one, then. Wine. White wine. Wine that you actually love. Your favorite. You wonder how he knows that.

You’re holding the bottle the way he’s holding his breath : tight. You lift your eyes to meet his and you can tell he’s embarrassed and a bit blushing. He rearranges the cap on his head and announces :

« Merry Christmas. »

You say it back, smile so big your cheeks hurt because Frankie got you presents for Christmas. You put the bottle with the rest of your stuff and then, on a whim, you throw yourself at him for a hug. He closes his arms around you, and one hand comes up right between your shoulder-blades, his thumb just here, sitting on the back of your neck, skin against skin and maybe you’re dead and in heaven right now.

You stay like this way too long and at some point you mumble against his shoulder that you really didn’t get him anything.

« It’s fine », he answers as he lets go, hands squeezing your side briefly.

You get into work late.

And now, you got a text. You opened it, read it again.

Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could take it to the next level. After all, you’d became closer to the boys over the last two months. Santi could have sent you that text, right ? That text didn’t have the word date in it. Maybe you were friends now. Frankie’d gotten you Christmas presents, after all.

So you read the words again, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent a yeah, sure, I’m in !

Your eyes went over his message once again, just to make sure the words would be burnt into your brain.

Hey, it’s Frankie. I know Friday’s your day off this week. I got two tickets to that new Marvel movie and one with your name on it. You in ?

You could spend two hours in a dark room with Francisco Morales right next to you. No problem. None at all.

———

He’d picked a screening that ended around seven. Your mind supplied just in time for dinner, and you kicked the two remaining braincells you had. You’d decided to drive there separately and were now sitting next to each other, you explaining the Marvel timeline and him listening intently. You were a nerd, but, him, not as much. You didn’t try to think too hard about the fact that he was doing this for you, because he was not as much into comics or movies as you were.

The whole thing was pleasant and relaxed.

This was not a date, you reminded yourself.

You got dinner after that, dissecting the movie as you ate - nothing fancy, but it was nice. The conversation shifted, at some point.

« Yeah, I get what you mean : movies are not the place to make a move. Especially when there’s a hot guy on the screen. I mean, what chance do you get when you’re watching a movie and Oscar Isaac is right there ? » Frankie laughed.

You nodded, getting another sip of your drink, and, as an afterthought, added :

« You know, Santi kinda looks like Oscar Isaac … »

Frankie grunted :

« Never, ever, tell him that. »

You promised you wouldn’t. After that, the two of you told each other stories about your worst dates, and you remembered :

« You know, when I was younger, before I met James, I hung out with a bunch of guys. I was like, fourteen, and they were sort of … beginning to understand I was a girl, you know. There was this guy, a good friend of mine, who actually told this other guy we weren’t going to see a movie. I remember, it was a special screening of Edward Scissorshands. So, my other friend never showed up and the guy told me he couldn’t make it. »

« Let me guess, the other guy told you later he thought you weren’t going ? »

You laughed.

« Yeah, basically. And then this guy I went to see the movie with invited me to a really fancy thing. It was a Wednesday afternoon, I remember. We got lunch. I didn’t pay for anything because he’d invited to come along with him and his grandma. Let me tell you : after that, I made sure to always have someone with us when he invited me somewhere. »

Frankie’s laugh was something you’d never grew tired of, you knew that.

———

Months went on, like that, with you and Frankie hanging out to see movies, and everybody showing up for Benny’s fight when you could (Jessie and you had to keep James updated, those nights, because he’d gone back to Washington after new year’s eve but wanted to know everything). Jessie had started dating a guy, at some point, and you didn’t find him that great but Will hated him.

« When are you gonna make a move ? » You asked, one evening as you were sipping beers with him at his place.

« When she doesn’t have a boyfriend dull as dishwater » He answered without missing a beat.

You knew this was the moment, then. You had two options : say nothing and let things be, or say something and get those idiots together. You thought hard, about the phrasing of your next sentence, and settled with :

« For you, she’d dump him. »

Will froze at that, just for a second, and quipped back :

« I’ll make a move when you make a move on ‘Fish. »

So that conversation was happening. You’d hoped none of the guys had noticed but obviously, at least one of them had. And you knew, by now, that his ex-wife had left him, had left Maria too. You knew he was available. You sputtered a bit and Will, kind Will, let it be. You enjoyed a nice evening with him, not once wondering why he sought you out, because Will and you didn’t hang out.

The answer came a few days later, with a simple text from Frankie.

Come over please

———

« I need you to take care of Maria », Frankie said as he opened the door. He looked really tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

Please, he added, begging but you didn’t quite understand what he was begging for.

You complied, never stopping to think that this was the first time you saw Maria, never stopping to think about what might be possibly happening, even as Frankie went to his room, muttering apologies. It hit you when you put the girl to bed, and you remembered Frankie and the way he’d been looking at you that day, when he’d asked if they could throw a birthday party for their late friend’s daughter.

It was around that time, last year.

You walked hesitantly towards Frankie’s bedroom and stared at the white paint in it for a while. You were nervous, and actually turned around to smoke a cigarette outside, the air a bit too chilly for you, but cold enough to wake you up and give you the strength to walk to Frankie’s bedroom and knock.

So you did it.

He didn’t answer, but, feeling bold - or rather, feeling like you needed to do it - you opened the door anyway. The room was almost dark, the moonlight giving you an idea that Frankie was curled up, on his side. You put a hand on his shoulder. He put his on top of yours. You chose - you chose - to take it at a silent invitation, lifted the covers, and got, fully dressed, right next to him. Because friends do that.

———

When you woke up, he was staring at you. While your brain tried to make sense of the situation, you asked, voice heavy with sleep :

« What time is it ? »

Seven, Frankie answered. Maria’s gonna wake up soon, he added. You were too tired to say anything else, because when you’d laid down next to him you’d felt like your heart had been about to burst so you’d just listened to him, his breath steadying as he’d got to sleep. You’d finally got to sleep too, but it was too damn early for you.

Later, you’d blame what happened on your foggy brain : you snuggled closer, and Frankie let you. Then, it hit you. At that moment, right next to him, it hit you : you were not friends with him. You were pretending to be, but you were not and never would.

You couldn’t.

You wanted to wake up everyday like that, to Frankie telling you it’s seven, Maria’s gonna be awake soon. You wanted everything and friends just wouldn’t cut it.

Two things happened at once, then : you were realizing how much you liked - loved - Frankie when he gently took one of your forearm and brought it to his lips. All of the feelings hit home just as he was kissing the soft skin on your wrist and you froze.

He saw it and let go immediately, muttering apologies, while you were still processing what you felt about him. When you reached to grab him, to tell him how good that was and how wanted him to do it again, it was already too late.

[snelbz]

The Best For Last

Christmas in July {Day 2}

Manon + Dorian

Written alongside the best bff who ever did live, @tacmc.

Dorian walked up the front porch steps with a bag of gifts in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He reached up with his snow-covered boot to ring the doorbell and waited.

Manon had never liked the holidays. Dorian, however, loved Christmas. His family was a little dysfunctional, but his happiest memories had always been around the holidays. He wanted nothing more than for a little bit of his cheer to rub off on his girlfriend. Which is why, on Christmas Eve, Dorian had wandered out in the snowstorm to drive across town to Manon’s little house on the edge of the city.

Except she wasn’t answering the damn door.

His boot hit the doorbell once more.

He could hear her footsteps as she quickly came down the stairs, her feet (most likely in fuzzy socks) skidding as she hit the landing. The porch light flicked on and as soon as Manon opened the door, he began to sing.

“We wish you a Merry Christmas,

We wish you a Merry Christmas,

We wish you a Merry Christmas,

And a Happy-.”

The door slammed in his face and the porch light turned off.

“Manon!” He called, laughter in his voice. “Open the door, baby.”

Silence.

“I can see your shadow through the glass. I know you’re still standing there.”

Nothing.

“It’s freezing, shit, open the-“

The door swung open and Dorian was pulled in by the collar of his coat. His lips caught hers in a hungry embrace as the door shut behind him. 

Once their lips broke, Dorian raised a brow. “Was that because you missed me or to keep me from singing again?” 

“A little bit of both,” she crooned, looking down at the gifts he brought along with him. “Mostly the singing though.”

Dorian grinned, before looking around her living room. His eyes landed on the far corner, where an armchair sat.

“What are you looking for?” Manon asked, eyes narrowing.

“A place to put the tree,” he mumbled, setting down his bag and the bottle of wine.

“What tree?” Manon asked, through gritted teeth.

“The one tied to the roof of my car,” he answered, cheerfully. “Obviously.”

“Dorian,” she groaned, falling onto the couch. “You know I don’t do Christmas. I show up to the parties, I drink the wine and then I leave before people can start talking about merriment and love and all that other bullshit.”

He sat down next to her, a hand rubbing her knee. “You don’t want to talk about merriment and love and all that other bullshit with me? In front of our own Christmas tree? With all the presents I bought you?”

She visibly brightened and said, “You bought me present?”

“Many,” he said, grin growing. “Multiples. And you’re gonna like all of them.”

She sighed, pursing her lips. “Can’t I like them without a tree?”

“Nope,” Dorian said, giving her a quick kiss before rising to his feet and holding out his hand. “Come on.”

“No.”

“You have to come with me.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“You know it turns me on when you get sassy.”

Manon rolled her eyes, unable to stop her sputtering laughter.

Dorian loved that laughter.

“Fine,” she said, meeting him on his feet. “I’ll help you put up the fucking tree, but I’m only doing it for you. I’m not going to enjoy myself.”

Dorian bit down his own laughter. “I can live with that.”

When he had cut the tree down, Dorian had had not only Chaol to help him tie it to the roof, but Rowan and Lorcan as well. As the snow began to fall faster and faster, he and Manon were finally able drag it inside.

After setting it up in the base he had brought, he looked over at Manon, standing in the middle of the living room, with her arms crossed over her chest.

True to her word, she was not enjoying herself.

There were pine needles sticking out of her moon white hair and the braid it had been tied back in had come loose. Strands were framing her face and though she was disheveled, Dorian couldn’t believe how gorgeous she was.

“Time to decorate,” he said, stepping in front of her and kissing her nose.

She held out a hand. “I demand payment, boyfriend.” He awkwardly gave her a low five. She rolled her eyes and said, “I was promised presents. Multiple.”

“Not until after we’re done-.”

She cut him off with a kiss, searing and passionate, her hands knitting into his raven hair. “No,” she said, pulling away. “I want one now.”

Dorian blinked, then sighed. “You do realize-“

“If you tell me that’s not how Christmas works, you will not be getting any tonight, Havilliard.”

Well, she definitely knew how to get what she wanted. 

Dorian opened his mouth to snap a reply, but he had nothing.

“Fine,” He said, “but just one. And I’m not giving you the best one. That one will be saved for last, when this is the best damn looking tree I’ve ever seen. Understand?”

Manon just grinned, small and wickedly. “I love it when you lay down the law.”

Dorian couldn’t help but laugh as he reached into his bag and pulled out a square box, the biggest out of all of her gifts.

“Here,” He said, placing it tauntingly into her outstretched hands. “Tradition-ruiner.”

She dropped to the floor and tore into it, unceremoniously ripping the paper and throwing it onto the floor around her. When she opened the lid, she gasped and carefully picked up the small leather bag.

She’d been eyeing a new Michael Kors crossbody purse. He saw her eyes lock into it every time they walked past the window in the Square.

“Baby,” she breathed, unable to articulate her feelings into words.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Christmas is just another opportunity for me to spoil my girl.” She looked up at him and beamed, a true smile that she only reserved for him. “Now, let’s get this tree looking festive as heck and maybe you’ll get another one tonight.”

“Maybe?” She repeated. “You can’t tease me then expect me not to want more.”

Dorian just smiled and opened a small box of ornaments. “Decorate.”

Manon almost had a pep in her step as she grabbed an ornament from the box, a small blue ball, and hung it on the tree.

“Here,” Dorian said from behind her. “This one next.”

She took it, not even bothering to look at it until she hung it on the branch. Her hand froze as she saw it, a faint smile on her lips. 

A silver Christmas tree hung from a red ribbon that read, Our First Christmas. Dorian & Manon.

She turned to face him. He watched her, eyes soft. “You’re allowed to tell me its stupid, but it’s staying on the tree.”

Manon just shook her head, picking another little blue ball out of the box. “It can stay.”

They decorated in silence, the only noise the rustling of the tree as Dorian fixed an ornament her and there and the crackling of the fire. Manon has just plucked the small angel from the box when Dorian picked her up around the hips and lifted her up. She laughed and asked him what he was doing, but he didn’t answer and carried her over to the tree. She reached up and carefully placed the angel at the top and looked down at him. “Is that festive enough for you?”

He slid her down his body, making sure there was contact at every point, and gently kissed her lips when her feet her back on the floor. “I guess you can have one more present tonight.”

“By one do you mean all?” She asked through long, white lashes.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” he whispered. 

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” she whispered back. 

Dorian just laughed, breathlessly. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

Manon simply shook her head.

He nuzzled against her neck. “You don’t want to wake up with me on Christmas morning and run downstairs to see what Santa brought?” He pressed a soft kiss to the spot just below her ear he knew could start or finish something, depending on how you looked at it.

“Santa,” she said, pulling away and putting emphasis on the name, “didn’t bring me shit. My amazing-,” a kiss to his chin, “wonderful-,” a kiss to his nose, “sexy-,” a kiss to his lips, “boyfriend did and I want to properly thank him. All night. Mornings are overrated anyways.”

Dorian let out a deep, low groan. Partly out of frustration, partly out of the sexual tension that was now building in his core.

“Fine,” He said, his lips finding her collarbone. “But now I’m going to be the one not enjoying it.”

Manon grinned. “I can live with that.”

She sat down on the couch crossing her legs and held out her hands in a gimme motion. Her signature, metallic nails glinted in the firelight and the colorful lights shining from the tree.

“First,” he said, swiping the remote off the table and turning the tv on. He flipped through the channels until he landed on Hallmark, showing their generic, cheesy Christmas movie of the night. Manon groaned and leaned her head back against the cushions. “You’re trying to kill me.”

Dorian just smiled, completely satisfied in her aggravation.  

He knew he was annoying her, but when he annoyed her he also knew that she secretly liked it.

“At least I’m not still out on the porch single Christmas carols,” he offered. 

Manon swing her legs over his lap, straddling his lap. “True.”

Her mouth touched his, softly, lovingly. “Keep me waiting and I won’t give you your gift.”

Dorians head jerked back. “You got me a gift? You? Manon Blackbeak? Got me a gift? You? Went shopping for me? For a Christmas gift?”

“If you keep talking, I will take it back to the store.”

She’d never seen him shut up so quickly.

She was also unprepared for the way he grabbed her hips and ground them into his own.

“You sure you don’t want to go ahead and thank me now for all of my wonderful presents you’ll be getting?”

Manon bit her lip, then shook her head slowly. “Gifts. Then sex.”

“Which is a gift in itself,” Dorian said, his lips finding her neck.

She pushed on his chest until he was resting against the back of the couch. “Down, boy,” she said, and climbed off of him and the couch.

She grabbed the bag of gifts and sat them down on the couch next to him.

Dorian grinned as she peeked inside. “Go ahead. Tear into them.” Manon did just that.

She may have hated Christmas, but she definitely didn’t hate getting gifts.

He spoiled her rotten. She tore into the boxes, pleased to find a new dress, an eyeshadow pallet she had mentioned that she wanted, and a necklace with his initials on it.

As he clasped the necklace and settled her braid back where it had been, he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

“I love you,” she said, resting a hand on his knee. “Thank you so much, you are-.” She paused and swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “You are more than I ever imagined I would deserve.”

He turned her to look at him and pressed a careful kiss to her lips. “You deserve everything I’ve given you and so much more. I can’t wait to spoil you for the rest of my life.” He loved the way her cheeks reddened as he said the words. She loved the butterflies the words ignited in her stomach. “Now before I turn the cheesiest of cheesy Christmas movies on, where’s my present?”

Manon pulled out a small, red wrapped rectangle from beneath the tree and handed it to him.

Dorian raised a brow as he grinned, taking the gift from her delicate hands and carefully removing the wrapping paper.

He beheld an old, vintage copy of one of his favorite classics, The Great Gatsby. 

He gawked. “Where did you find this?”

Manon showed him a rare, soft smile. “Antique shop on Main Street.”

He was speechless. Not only because it was an amazing gift, but because she knew him so well. “Thank you,” He said, kissing her quickly, softly. “It’s perfect.”

Manon patted his knee, uncomfortable with the praise as she rose to her feet. “Come on. To the wine cabinet.”

She was almost to the kitchen when she realized Dorian wasn’t following her. When she turned, she froze.

Dorian was down on one knee in front of the Christmas tree.

“What are you doing?” She breathed.

Dorian let out a deep breath of his own. “I have one more gift.”

She was frozen in place, a hand pressed to her chest. Her golden eyes were wide and she waited.

“I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you. Most people look at you and they see the wild demon you pretend to be, but you let me in. You let me see the beautiful soul inside. You let me love you. I want to keep doing that every day and every night, for the rest of our lives. Manon Katan Blackbeak, be my wife. Marry me and make me the happiest man in the world.”

Her eyes were lined with silver when she whispered, “You didn’t ask me.”

Dorian blinked. “What?”

She walked over to him, dropping on her knees in front of him and laughed softly. She framed his face with her hands and said, “You can’t just tell me we’re getting married. That’s not how it works. You have to ask me.”

Dorian let out a low chuckle, his head shaking slowly as he asked, “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Manon sputtered out a laugh as she pressed her mouth to his, softly. “Yes, of course, I will.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed her one more time. When she pulled back, she said, “Now, I definitely think we need to make a trip to the wine cabinet. To celebrate.”

He grinned. “I have something better, fiancée.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood, grabbing the last item out of the bag he’d brought. He held out a bottle of champagne and said, “We should probably open this in the front yard.”

She laughed and followed him as he headed for the front door.

After a dramatic opening, in which Dorian was fairly sure she aimed the cork for his head, they headed back inside and snuggled under a fuzzy blanket -- one of his many presents for her -- on the couch, watching a Hallmark Christmas special and sipping their champagne. Dorian pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she leaned back against his chest.

“I love you,” she said, turning around to look at him.

His sapphire eyes were bright as he said, “I love you more.”

And as she kissed her future husband, Manon decided maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

[zecretsanta]

Fic: Something I need

 To: @eatingfireflies

From: @hardcoreprince

Merry Christmas, D!!! I was super excited to get you as my giftee! I hope you like what I’ve put together!

Notes: In my mind I kind of continued off what I established in The Knowledge Argument, but you definitely don’t need to read that to read this. It’s really just a bit of pure fluff. Enjoy and Merry Christmas, D!!

AO3 LINK

“Do you really need another boyfriend? You’re so greedy!”

Carlos blinks as he tears his eyes away from his phone and stares at his sister, who is grinning maddeningly at him. They’re sprawled out on the couch at his apartment as a cheesy Christmas movie plays in the background. They’re only about twenty minutes in. The city slicker main character is still adjusting to life in a small town.

“What—”

“Don’t play dumb.” Maria sits up and examines him critically. “No morphogenetic field required, I can tell you like Aoi. You’re texting him now, aren’t you?”

Carlos goes a little red as he stares down at the phone in his hands. “Maybe I am,” he mumbles. “But it’s not like that! He wanted to know what we needed at the store.”

Maria shakes her head. “I wrote him a list. It is like that. Geeze, maybe I should become a firefighter. I can’t even get one boy to date me.” She sighs and shakes her head ruefully.

“We’re not dating!” Carlos laughs a little. “Maria, anyone would be lucky to date you.”

She scoffs. “Don’t give me that line. Anyway, we were talking about you. Why not? What’s the harm in one more? Junpei’s dating him too, isn’t he?”

The phone vibrates in Carlos’ hands, only further incriminating him. Another message from Aoi. It had started out with Aoi asking Carlos to remind him what he wanted from the market… but it had quickly devolved into a conversation about what brand of crappy instant coffee is better, which turned into what Carlos thinks could be flirting…

“He is,” Carlos says carefully. “But I don’t want to assume that just because Junpei is dating him means that I should, or that he even likes me. That’s too complicated, right? This thing with Akane and Junpei… that’s enough without me getting involved with someone else.”

“He’s not a stranger or anything, he’s Akane’s brother. And I think he does like you.” Maria lifts her eyebrows a little and leans closer, as if she has a secret. “Anyway, I know you like him because you forgot to check the roast.”

A jolt of panic goes through Carlos as he leaps from the couch. “Oh sh— shoot, the roast!”

Maria’s giggles follow him into the kitchen as he scrambles to the oven. “I’m not twelve anymore!”

But all his haste was for nothing. When Carlos cracks open the oven, the roast looks fine, despite the fact that he was supposed to check on it ten minutes ago. As he pierces the skin with the thermometer, he tries to put what Maria said out of his mind. But it’s hard when Aoi is coming back in about ten minutes…

Junpei, Akane, and Aoi have been visiting for the past few days and his apartment has never been more crowded. Junpei keeps telling him to get a bigger place but Carlos insists the housing market is terrible and he doesn’t have enough time for that. So, they’ve made do. Carlos, Akane, and Junpei sleep in Carlos’ room and Aoi gets the couch. Aoi initially complained, saying he didn’t come all the way to America to couch surf, and almost got a hotel. But Akane sweetly reminded him that hotels did not offer five-star breakfasts and cute firemen to cook them. Carlos had blushed at that and Aoi had rolled his eyes but agreed to stay.

How Aoi ended up in America in the first place was all Junpei’s doing. The official line is that Junpei insisted it would be pathetic if Aoi spent Christmas alone, so he dragged him all the way out to California. Maria suspects Aoi tagging along has less to do with that and more to do with Carlos. But Carlos doesn’t think it’s too much of a stretch to bring your boyfriend when you’re visiting your other boyfriend with your girlfriend…

What has his life become?

The door squeaks open in the other room just loud enough for Carlos to hear it and he smiles. He washes his hands and leaves the kitchen to find Aoi, Junpei, and Akane coming in the front door with probably more groceries than strictly necessary. Aoi had only proposed the trip to get some (good) wine to go with dinner, and Maria made up a list of a few things they could use, but it looks like they’ve come back with much more than that.

“Blame Junpei,” Akane says when she sees Carlos’ questioning gaze. “He was the one who insisted on getting three flavors of instant ramen like he’s still at University.”

“I’ve never seen those flavors,” Junpei scowls, brushing past Carlos to drop his bag in the kitchen. “Besides, Akane bought a lot of coffee creamer.”

“I’ve never seen those flavors,” Akane parrots innocently.

Carlos shakes his head, but he’s smiling. He looks to Aoi, who’s struggling with an overpacked bag, and takes it from him effortlessly. “What did you buy too much of?”

Aoi grins and there’s something about that expression that’s so inviting and teasing that it makes Carlos a little bit flustered. “Alcohol. Too many flavors and all that shit. Americans really like that flavored crap, don’t they?”

“I guess…” Carlos says with a little shrug. He peers into the bag and sees a variety of holiday flavored wines and vodkas. Are you planning on drinking all this?“

“Oh?” Aoi steps closer to Carlos and even though he’s shorter, Carlos can’t help but feel like he’s being loomed over. “Can’t hold your liquor?”

Carlos can only stare as Aoi brushes past him to bother Junpei in the kitchen. Now without Aoi in front of him, Carlos can see Maria and Akane watching him.

“Told you,” Maria says, giggling.

Akane grins. “You were right. My brother and your brother… we’ll be, double sisters in law?”

That really makes Maria laugh. Carlos goes red as the both of them giggle at his expense. “It’s not like that,” he insists.

Akane steps forward and cups Carlos’ face. He leans into her touch. “Sorry, just teasing. I know how you are, don’t worry, okay? It’s Christmas Eve.”

But Carlos is very good at worrying.

During dinner, Aoi serves Carlos a generous helping of a very sweet wine that tastes off puttingly of peppermint. There are three bottles of various flavors open at the table and it seems random who has gotten what.

“Pumpkin spice wine?” Junpei sputters, looking scandalized. “Aoi… you’ve really gone too far this time.”

“Don’t blame me,” Aoi says with a little shrug. “I’m just the messenger. You should really be blaming this fucking sinful country for concocting such an abomination.”

“Mine’s not bad,” Maria offers. holding it out to Junpei for a taste. She’s sitting next to Carlos. Across from them are Akane and Junpei, and right next to Carlos at the corner of the table is Aoi.

Junpei sips the dark liquid suspiciously and pulls a face. “Is that supposed to be chocolate?”

“You’re so uncultured,” Aoi says with a long-suffering sigh as he clinks glasses with Akane.

In turn, Akane drinks her white wine and blinks. “Cheesecake. Here, Jumpy, maybe this is more to your taste.”

After Junpei decides he definitely does not like that one either, he looks to Carlos, who shrugs. “No, you won’t like mine. Peppermint. A lot of it.”

Junpei turns to Aoi with disgust. “Why did you even buy that? Anyone who drinks that better not kiss me.”

Before Carlos knows what’s happening, Aoi is reaching for his glass. He downs the rest of the wine in one go, not breaking eye contact with Junpei. “Whoops. Guess I don’t get to kiss you now. Big fucking loss. I’ll just have to kiss Carlos.” Aoi leans over and slips an arm around Carlos.

Carlos goes a little red and even redder as Maria catches his eye and raises an eyebrow at him. He coughs and averts his gaze as Junpei fumes.

“You’re a dick,” Junpei grumbles. “I didn’t want to kiss either of you anyway.”

“Liar.” Aoi idly refills the wine glass and passes it to Akane as Junpei’s eyes go wide.

“No, don’t do it, Kanny, please. I swear I’ll shift right now to some other timeline where you don’t ruin the taste of your lips.”

Akane grins at Aoi and takes the glass. Junpei gapes at her as she brings the glass to her lips ever so slowly. Even Carlos holds his breath with anticipation. But she doesn’t take a sip. Instead she giggles and puts it down. “Jumpy, you’re so dramatic.”

Carlos starts tuning out the rest of their banter because Aoi’s arm is still draped tantalizingly around him. He serves himself some more of the offending wine and drinks it too quickly. The roast is good, no harm done for ignoring it for a little while, and the meal passes by comfortably with Aoi’s arm around him. Every time Carlos thinks he’s going to pull away… he doesn’t. If anything, he draws closer.

Towrds the end of the meal, everyone is a little tipsy and Aoi leans close to Carlos’ ear to whisper, “Meet me outside in two minutes.” He gets up from the table and stretches out like a cat while Carlos stares bewilderedly after him “Be right back,” he tells the table. “Gotta take a piss.”

“Go wash your mouth out,” Junpei gripes. “Plenty of mouthwash.”

Aoi flips him off as he leaves, and Carlos is left with a growing pit of dread in his stomach. He watches the next two minutes crawl by as he stares at the clock on the wall. When it’s finally time for him to get up, he lurches unsteadily to his feet and Maria looks up at him with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Carlos waves her off. “Just need to get some air.”

“Okay…” Maria is looking at him with too much scrutiny, so he hurries out of the kitchen before she can pick up anything weird from him. They’re so much more in tune these days that he’s had to ask her to stop prying into his mind. She complies… most of the time.

When Carlos gets outside the front door of his apartment, Aoi is waiting there, bathed in his porchlight and smoking a cigarette carelessly as he leans against the railing. “You actually waited two minutes.” He shakes his head and grins. “What a fuckin’ dumbass.”

Carlos falters. It’s cold outside and he’s just wearing a stupid holiday sweater Maria picked out for him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and averts his eyes. “I’m good at following instructions,” he offers.

At that, Aoi snorts and takes a drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. “I just didn’t want the others to get suspicious. You blush too easily.” He takes a step towards Carlos, who instantly gets tense. “Relax. Jesus.” Aoi reaches forward and brushes a piece of hair from Carlos’ face.

“Oh,” Carlos says softly. A puff of his breath materializes between them. He tries to look anywhere else but Aoi is so close. “This won’t… this doesn’t complicate everything, does it?”

“Goddamn, you talk too much,” Aoi says, slipping one of his hands behind Carlos’ neck. His hands are cold, and it makes Carlos shiver. “I’ve already stolen one of my sister’s boyfriends. Another one isn’t going to hurt, right?”

“I-I guess?”

“You like me, right?” Aoi’s words are more of a demand than anything. He already knows the answer, obviously. His brazenness makes Carlos laugh helplessly.

“Y-yes, but—”

“Then quit fuckin’ talking! Jesus, I’m trying to make out with you at a holiday party. I shouldn’t have to say anything except ‘you, me, outside.’”

Carlos doesn’t have time to say anything to that before Aoi is leaning up and pressing mouth firm against Carlos’. He tastes strongly of peppermint wine but it’s not off putting anymore. Carlos slides his eyes shut and winds his arms around Aoi’s waist. He lets himself relax and the cold melts away as Aoi digs his fingers in Carlos’ hair. He’s not as tall as Carlos, so he’s pulling him down, pressing his body up to meet him.

When they break apart, Carlos is breathless and pink and Aoi is grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat. “Alright, fix your face, they’re going to wonder where we’ve been. I’ll go first.”

And then Aoi is gone and Carlos is standing on his porch wondering what the hell just happened.

The next ten minutes pass by in a blur. Carlos returns to his kitchen. Maria raises her eyebrows over and over at him, Junpei is still complaining about the wine, and Akane is giving him a knowing look. Finally, Maria excuses herself, saying she’s meeting up with some friends, and she winks at Carlos not so subtly as she leaves. Now, left with a mountain of dishes, Junpei says they should clean up later and the four of them end up crammed together on Carlos’ couch.

Carlos ends up exactly where he does not want to be, stuck between Akane and Aoi. Akane curls into him at once and Aoi slings an arm around him.

“Of course, I’m on the end,” Junpei mutters as he makes himself comfortable on Aoi’s other side.

“Quit whining, you’re going to have to learn to share this solid asshole.” Aoi pats Carlos’ shoulder appreciatively. “You two have really been holding out on me.”

“I knew something happened when you both disappeared,” Akane says, looking up at Carlos brightly. He’s trying very hard not to look flustered. “You have my full support. Jumpy? Tell him you support him.”

“What? Hell no. I can’t let Carlos date this… this degenerate.”

Aoi swiftly elbows Junpei in the stomach and Junpei starts swearing at him and Carlos can only watch in mild horror as the two of them start wrestling on the couch, right there next to him. Akane puts a hand on his cheek and gently guides his gaze to her.

“Jumpy’s joking. It’s alright. We’re both happy for you. I know it seems like too much, but you don’t have to worry.” She smiles at him and her eyes are so soft and gentle as she leans forward to give him a chaste peck on the lips.

As Akane pulls away, Carlos is smiling. “Uh, thanks, Akane. Guess it’s too much to ask for a normal Christmas, huh?”

Akane grins back him and puts a hand on his chest as he slips an arm around her. “Don’t worry. This is as normal as it gets.”

After a moment, Aoi settles back against Carlos, apparently done wrestling with Junpei.

“You see what he’s like?” Junpei grumbles, resting his head on Aoi’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “But if you must… I guess I support you.”

“Didn’t need your approval, asshole,” Aoi breathes into Carlos’ neck.

Carlos laughs. He’s comfortable and full and still a little tipsy and maybe just slightly overwhelmed to suddenly find himself entangled with Akane’s brother but… he’s happy above all else. And as the four of them eventually fall asleep on the couch, watching a movie that none of them were paying attention to, Carlos can’t believe how lucky he is.