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airplanned · 1 year

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Castletown Academy 6

It’s the wedding! Zelda is both nervous and smitten. Which is bad, because there’s nothing between them.

---

Zelda made a point to not spend too long primping, but she did spend a longer than she should have combing Ralphie's hair. His cow-lick in the back simply would not stay down, which usually wasn't an issue, but now that she'd gotten the rest of his hair to lie flat, the way just one section popped straight up was rather obvious.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, trying to sound light to distract from how frustrated she was getting with his hair and how nervous she was getting at the thought of her approaching wedding.

A slow smile spread across Ralphie's face in the mirror. "Flora's really going to be my sister?"

"Your step-sister. Are you excited?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad." Suddenly, the cow-lick didn't seem so bad. None of this seemed bad. "What about Link? What do you think of him?"

His smile slipped a little bit. "He's okay."

"Just okay?"

He thought a moment. "He's going to me my...step-dad?"

Her hands stilled over his head. She took him by the shoulders and turned him around so she could look him in the eyes. "Not all dads are like your father," she said.

He lowered his eyes.

"Link wants what's best for you. He already cares about you, and I think he understands you. But you are allowed to spend as much or as little time with him as you want. And if you really don't like him, say the word and he's gone. Deal?"

"Okay," he said. It sounded hesitant, but he still had a voice, so that was something.

They weren't obnoxiously early to their appointment with the judge. She would have looked immensely pathetic sitting around anxiously waiting for her betrothed.

Ten minutes early. That was reasonable.

Link had beat her there and was in the middle of tucking one of Flora's braids into place, a rubber band between his teeth and flowers about to fall off the bench beside him.

That meant Flora saw Zelda and Ralphie first. She gasped and tried to run up to them, but Link still had hold of her hair, so her attempt at running ended up jerking her head backwards.

First, he checked her head and neck to make sure she was okay, and then he looked up, his eyes widening. He stood to be polite, while still trying to get the braid back into place as quickly as possible.

"Don't bounce around so much, it'll fall out again." And then Flora was free.

"You look so pretty!"

Zelda smiled and bent low. Talking to children was something she could handle. "You look pretty too." Flora had a green dress with lots of netting in the skirt. As she did a twirl, hidden sparkles of what must be rhinestones caught the light.

"Daddy wouldn't let me get dressed until we got here. He thought I'd get dirty."

"My mom combed my hair fifty times," Ralphie said. "I'm not supposed to touch it."

"You look like a statue," Flora announced. He kind of did. Zelda had added gel. Had she added too much gel?

"Like a statue in a good way," Link said. "I like your suspenders."

Ralphie grinned.

And then Link's attention turned to Zelda. In his movements was a strand of uncertainty that hadn't been there when he'd talked to the children. He passed her a small bouquet of silent princesses as if he were offering her flowers on a first date. She didn't let her hands shake as she took them.

"You look lovely."

"Thank you," she said. Then because she was a fool, she said, "I've worn this dress before. My godmother hosts elaborate teas, and this has gotten compliments in the past, and it was this or my other white dress, which is a bit too formal. It's long and strapless and--anyway. I thought about buying a new dress, but I probably would have fretted about finding the perfect dress all week and then ended up just wearing this anyway."

Link's smile quirked. Then he leaned closer, and Zelda sucked in a breath.

"You're nervous."

"I--You can't prove that."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No. I think I'll just be nervous."

That made him smile, and, oh, his smile was nice. His eyes were very blue, like the flower in his button hole.

She was being so weird. This was probably difficult for him after the death of his wife to have a second, low effort wedding with someone he didn't love. It was probably difficult for him, but she was the one being weird. She needed to step it up.

Link checked his watch, then announced, "Okay! Kids come here." There were still some flowers on the bench, and he came up with a single silent princess and a straight pin, which he bent down and, with gentle hands, attached it to Ralphie's suspenders over his heart. "This is so we all match," he explained. "People will know we go together. And if any of us get lost in the building, they can just find the other people with blue flowers." Ralphie seemed to stand up straighter, his chest puffing out. "Yeah. That looks good."

Link tried to use the same care when inserting the last silent princess into the coil of braids at the back of Flora's head, but she was bouncing a bit too much, and he just ended up shoving it into place.

"Okay, now. Since you are standing up for your mom and you are standing up for me, you both have very important jobs. I need you to hold onto these boxes, and keep them very very safe, and when the judge asks, you're going to hand them over. I'm trusting you both not to lose them, but we've got--" He checked his watch. "--Two minutes, so I think we'll be good. Can I count on you?"

He looked both kids in the eyes, one after the other, and they both gave solemn nods, clutching the ring boxes to their chests.

"Thank you."The clerk called their names, and they were swept into the process of showing their identification and signing forms. The clerk had clearly done this a million times, and the careful, standardized procedure of it all soothed Zelda's nerves.

Then they were walking before the judge. It looked like a normal court room, with the judge at a raised desk and set benches to either side of the aisle. A few people moved about the edges of the room, but distant and discreet. The judge smiled at them and at the children, and Zelda handed over their paperwork. And then the judge was talking--a joyful preable about people coming together in love and pledging their lives to one another.

It made her feel like a fake.

Link took her hand and squeezed, and she gripped onto him as tight as she dared.

"Do you, Zelda, take Link to be your spouse and live together as partners, to treat him with love and respect and build a family that grows stronger as time passes?"

That she could agree to. "I do."

"Do you, Link, take Zelda to be your spouse and live together as partners, to treat her with love and respect and build a family that grows stronger as time passes?"

His full attention bore into her, all even-tempered kindness and unearned fondness. "I do."

Her heart squeezed. But he was just doing what he could for his daughter, and he was just being kind, and she was just thankful he'd agreed to this without taking and taking and taking, and she was just getting caught up in the moment.

She had an awkward second when Ralphie handed Link's ring to her, because she tried to put it on Link's finger while still holding her flowers. Link took them from her, and held them in his free hand until she was done, then handed them back while she whispered her thanks. Then he was taking her hand and sliding a ring into place. The stones glinted like the sparkles in Flora's dress.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Whew! She smiled in relief, and in the distance a scattering of random people clapped for them.

The judge gave Link a knowing look and jerked his head in her direction.

Oh. Oh right.

Again, Link looked shy. But he moved in and rested a hand against her hip. His lips pressed to hers, soft and brief, too brief, and her hand came up to cup his jaw--her hand with a new ring on it.

The kids were both dancing as they skipped back out of the courtroom, her hand in Link's.

It was only as they left and she felt the soothing warmth of relief and a tell-tale blush in her cheeks that Zelda finally had the ware-with-all to take in her surroundings, and that's when she caught sight of a couple sitting in the back, and she nearly stumbled in surprise.

The woman beamed and clapped her hands in silent, excited applause. She hadn't known her husband's plan or didn't care, because while she seemed to want Zelda to see her, the man slid low in his seat and half covered his face, peeking out at her, as if a seven-foot-tall Zonai man could hide.

#Zelda #my fic #Castletown Academy

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madsnowstorm · 2 years

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take me home for christmas | j. seresin | part five

that christmasy feeling - johnny cash

summary : jake wants to take you home to texas for christmas to meet his family.

warnings — series, 18+, fem!reader, established relationship, some angst, family dynamics (both healthy and not), mentions of therapy, no religious aspect to the holiday, dogs named after famous texans, anxiety, no use of y/n, little angsty, but mostly internal

notes — uh, its been a while. work has been crazy, so i haven't been able to work on this like i've wanted. truthfully, i'm not sure what i think about this chapter. what i am sure of is that i love writing uncle jake.

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“Wake up!” An unfamiliar voice startled you. “Wake uuup!” The voice was squeaky and accompanied by a bell-like giggle. “Uncle Jake, why isn’t she waking up! Maybe you should wake her up like Snow White!” You could hear your boyfriend’s laugh through the sleepy haze you were beginning to surface from.

“Nah, Sophie. Let’s just wake her up gently. The both of us.” You felt your shoulder warm with the touch of Jake’s large hand and much smaller one underneath it. Your eyes fluttered open and you stretched. “Hey there princess.” The small girl next to Jake giggled again.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Your voice was scratchy with sleep. The last thing you remember was sitting on the couch. Your legs had been tangled with his, your head on his firm chest. A Christmas Story was on the TV and the last thing you remembered was Ralphie Parker getting a boot to the forehead.

“You just looked so cute.” Sophie laughed at her uncle’s words and you couldn’t help but join in. She was an adorable girl with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes similar to those of her uncle. “Anytime you aren’t snoring is pretty cute.” His comment, which was so typical, made you roll your eyes. You knew he probably had a point. You did snore sometimes.

“You must be Sophie!” Your attention was now on Jake’s niece. Her head was moving up and down in an enthusiastic nod. Her smile was wide enough for you to see that two teeth were missing. You scooted into a sitting position.

“Yeah!” Without warning the girl threw herself in your lap.

“Woah!” Jake placed his hand on your back to keep you from toppling over. You let him know you were good and positioned the girl to make both of you more comfortable. “A little warning next time, Soph!”

“She’s okay. You’re just excited, aren’t you Sophie?” She was nodding once again. “Who wouldn’t be with Santa coming tomorrow?!” The mention of Santa and Christmas Eve had Sophie wiggling with joy. You were still trying to fully wake up, but her childlike wonderment was infectious as she talked about Christmas Eve. Both you and Jake let her ramble for a few moments. After she talked about all the different cookies she wanted to leave Santa, Jake plucked the girl from your lap and told her to go find one of her brothers. Once she was gone, you looked at him. His eyes were roaming over your face. “Do I have sleep lines?” You started feeling around your temple. “Oh my God, did I drool?” Jake laughed.

“You’re good darlin’.” He stood up and held a hand out for you. You took it, looking down at your clothes, running a hand over some wrinkles. “I said you were good.” His tone was light, but had an edge of bossiness that was typical of him. “Come on, there are people I want you to meet.”

You let him tug you towards the kitchen, nerves gripping you. You weren’t quite sure why you were nervous considering how well things went with his parents. They really made you feel as though you’d always been one of them. That morning you and Vicki drove down to the feed store to pick up an order that had come in. As you loaded large bags into the bed of the truck you’d been in, the two of you joked around like people who knew each other for years would. It left you feeling like you were in a dream and you weren’t sure you wanted to wake up.

“There they are!” Thomas yelled out loudly. You smiled shyly, fighting the urge to raise your hand in an awkward wave. There were multiple pizza boxes sitting on the kitchen island, which several people were standing around. Vicki and Thomas you knew, as well as Julie, who was standing next to a man that held baby Lily. There was another man to his left and as you took him in you noticed several features that Vicki also had. That must have been Jackson. A short woman, with red hair, stood in front of him. The only people that were missing were Jennifer and her family, and June. Both of them would be in from out of town the next day.

“Yeah, here we are.” Jake’s hands were on your shoulders, he was standing at your back. The heat coming off of his body was comforting. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to eat!”

Jake filled you in earlier in the day. On the twenty-third there were always carolers in the small downtown you’d been driven through the day before. Hot chocolate was typically sold by the high school band as a fundraiser. There was also a local couple that dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus and walked around entertaining little children. He explained it as a low-key affair that had a lot of heart. It had been going on as long as Jake could remember and had become a family tradition. They’d always eat pizza, drive around to look at lights, and then end up downtown to enjoy the festive atmosphere.

“Yeah, Nana! We’re hungry!” A young teenage boy echoed, walking in. Sophie was at one elbow and another young boy was at the other.

“Come here, squirt!” Jake growled, throwing his arm around his oldest nephew, Will, drawing him into a headlock.

“I’m not a squirt!” The boy replied, his voice cracking in that familiar pubescent way. He squirmed away from his uncle.

“No, you aren’t, but he is!” Jake bent down to pick up Cole. You remember in the weeks leading up to this time with his family, you made Jake quiz you on who was who. Names were not hard for you, so you were able to pick up on all the members quickly. Cole was laughing as his uncle attacked him with tickles. Sophie was jumping up and down, adding to the chaos. You could only imagine the energy that would be in the air once the rest of the Seresin family arrived.

“Come on, knuckleheads,” Jackson spoke up, opening some of the pizza boxes. “Let’s eat.” And, as if his words were magic, the kids (and Jake) straightened up and got in line.

“They are always such a rowdy bunch.” The redheaded woman spoke as you walked over to grab a plate. “Hi, I’m Claire.” You introduced yourself to her in return. “Whenever Jake comes to town, the kids are extra crazy.”

“Yeah, I’m picking up on that.” You laughed.

The kitchen was filled with noise as everyone moved around and began eating. Outside the window the sun was setting, which meant that soon you would all be perusing toward town, taking in the magic of different lights.

After grabbing a couple of slices of pizza, you found yourself squished in between Jake and Sophie. Claire tried to pull her daughter away, reminding her of her manners, but you let her know it was okay. Throughout dinner you listened, with one ear, to Jake entertain Sophie, Cole, and Will with stories about his most recent mission. Details were exaggerated and sound effects were incorporated. While he did that, you engaged in conversation with Claire about a show you heard her mention while you were each up grabbing your food.

Once dinner and conversation were done (and cowboy hats grabbed) you all divided up amongst two different vehicles. Jake, you, Julie, her fiance Luke, and Lily piled in their mid-sized SUV, while Vicki and Thomas squeezed into Claire and Jackson’s Suburban. That forced the three kids in the back seat. Jake and Jackson both had walkie-talkies clipped to their jackets. Jake explained that it was so both vehicles could talk while looking at lights, without interrupting any music. The Seresin’s were all about feeling the spirit of Christmas.

Lily sat between you and Jake, buckled tightly into her carseat. Julie said they could pull up the back seats to make things more comfortable, but you told her it was fine. It gave you an up close look at just how soft Jake could be. You were enjoying this new side to him. He sang to her when a particularly good song would come on. While he didn’t have the best voice, the slightly accented twang he added made you melt. The man would also tell jokes to the other kids over the walkie-talkie.

“Soph’, what does Santa call a reindeer with no eyes?” He asked as your caravan pulled in front of a house that had a yard littered with glowing reindeer.

“I don’t know, Uncle J!” Came Sophie’s sassy reply. You snickered. Her attitude reminded you so much of the one her uncle usually displayed. You locked eyes with Julie who nodded, having picked up on your line of thought.

“I have no eye deer!” As he delivered the punchline he looked over at you, his smile so wide it practically took over his face. Luke snorted which made Julie laugh. Lily cooed from her carseat. You turned your attention to her, brushing her forehead with the pad of your thumb.

“Your uncle is so silly, isn’t he? Isn’t he?” She cooed again and you laughed, looking at Jake pointedly.

“Uncle J, that was so bad!” Will’s voice came over the walkie-talkie. It was impossible to miss Sophie laughing in the background.

“Some would say it’s so bad, I’m on the naughty list right?” You, Julie, and Luke all groaned at the same time. Before you really knew what you were doing, you reached over the carseat and grabbed the walkie-talkie from Jake’s hand. He looked at you, bewildered.

“Someone come get this man!” You said into the receiver after pressing the orange button on the side. There was silence for a minute before Jackson’s voice filled the car.

“Sorry darlin’,” If Jake wasn’t sitting right in front of you, you would have sworn he was the one speaking. “We’ve been dealing with him for over three-decades. It’s your turn now.”

More taunts, bad jokes, and laughs were exchanged as you all continued to look at lights that decorated homes that were a part of Jake’s past. Jake would tell you some random fact from his childhood as you passed by the different houses. Julie would chime in occasionally, adding to the stories he told. You learned about his friends and the shenanigans they got up to, especially while in high school. There were pranks and hijinks of all kinds thought up in the houses that were being driven by.

Eventually the car turned down a street where vehicles were parked on both sides. It took a minute to find a spot, but eventually two were found not that far from each other. Together, as a family, you all walked up the sidewalk, towards the warm light radiating from the busy part of town. Sophie, Claire, and Julie were singing about Frosty the Snowman. As you kept walking the crowd seemed to be growing.

While the downtown area looked charming during the day, there was something magical about it at night. The lights mixed with the music from the carol singers mixed with the fake snow floating through the air created an energy and excitement that you had not experienced since you were a young child. You were so enchanted by everything around you, you didn’t realize you’d stopped walking.

“Darlin’?” Jake called out. He was looking over his shoulder, his family still walking ahead. You were trying to find the words to explain how you felt. “You okay?” You nodded as he walked to you.

“It just…” The words weren’t coming to you, but he waited patiently. “Thank you for bringing me.” His smile was dazzling and dangerous. You tucked one arm around under his denim jacket, and wrapped it around his waist. You lifted the other, using your hand to tip his sand colored Stetson up. It would get in the way of your goal. Without mentioning this goal, Jake understood and pressed his lips against yours. As you pulled apart you could hear Cole behind the man in your arms.

“Come one guys!” There were strangers moving around you, smiling as Cole brought attention to the obvious fact that you were not with the family who was stopped at the hot chocolate booth.

Jake moved your arm out from underneath his jacket, but didn’t let go of your hand. His palm was warm against yours and it grounded you. He pulled you towards the booth and somehow managed to take a few dollar bills from his wallet with one hand. He handed it to the high schooler behind the table and you both grabbed a cup. You never thought that being in Texas with Jake and his family would feel as right as it did. It was nothing like you expected, but in the best way possible…And there were still three days left and more family to meet.

#jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman series #hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #take me home for christmas

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piastrinorris · 2 years

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busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.3k

A/N: Fun fact: with this chapter, the BSBL timeline now coordinates perfectly with our own! Ralphie's living in real time now :)

This chapter does define a specific family dynamic with reader, which I know puts a lot of people off because it's not identical to theirs, but I needed to make it something so that the story could progress. I hope you still enjoy it!

“What on earth is that monstrosity?!” Ralph asks with disgust as the door closes behind him.

“Good afternoon to you,” you say in a voice that mocks Ralph’s before returning to your own usual tone. “Good afternoon, Ralph! How was your day at work? Oh, it was quite spectacular, I helped transform a gentleman into another man named Elvis, not that I’d know who he is or why he’s so important that people want to dress up as him, but nonetheless, what a marvellous day! Why, you look absolutely swept off your feet, what sort of old-school gentleman would I be if I didn’t insist on helping? Oh, well that’s very kind of you, Ralph, thank you so much for offering!”

You look up and burst into laughter at Ralph’s highly unamused expression. “You didn’t answer my question.”

You point at the object in front of you. “’S a tree. Big thing, grows outside, birds live in it. Mind you, that’s the real deal, this thing’s just made of plastic,” you wriggle a branch up and down as if that demonstrates your point at all.

“I know what a Christmas tree is, I mean are you really putting all those lights on it?” He asks with an upturned nose.

“What’s wrong with these?” You ask as you lift up the chain of Christmas lights from where they’d been resting across your shoulders.

“All the colours, it’s so… Where’s the consistency, where’s the theme?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, “Oh my god, I should have known you’re a white-lights guy. Anyway, it’s no fun limiting yourself to just one colour or whatever. If I see a decoration that I like, I buy it. Simple,” you shrug. “I could really use a hand with these, though, if you’re free,” you offer, waggling your eyebrows.

He frowns, "After all that?!"

You sigh in exhaustion, "Sorry. Twenty minutes untangling these pissing lights has made me a bit of a bitch.”

Ralph offers a small smile. “Then I suppose I should prevent your mood from getting worse, shouldn’t I? Um, where should I -?” he asks, gesturing and leaning from side to side, his eyes following the wire that encompasses you as he tries to find the end.

You giggle, “Here, I’ll keep this end, you get ’round the other side of the tree and I can hand the lights over to you. Just make a little gap between the wires,” you show him how, “every now and then and put it round a branch. Got it?” Ralph nods, looking at the tree intently.

On three separate occasions, Ralph worries that the lights aren’t long enough to fit all the way around the tree. You promise him that they’ve been long enough for the last three years, and you’re sure they haven’t shrunk while they’ve been in storage. “And how did you even manage this ordeal on your own for this long?!” he asks incredulously.

“It’d start off with me kicking the tree stand around and around,” you explain, “until it got to the lower, wider parts and I’d just give up and throw the lights over the top and pull them back down again.” Ralph giggles at the mental image before continuing the job at hand.

“Now, what did I say, hm?” Ralph eventually asks exasperatedly, gesturing towards his side of the bottom of the tree. “Not enough for this area!”

You crane your head around to look and grin, “Nah, that’s perfect!” He looks at you, bewildered, and you laugh, “Look, you just,” you start pushing the tree around so that the one bald patch is facing the wall next to the socket the lights plug into, plug the lights in and step back with arms out to show off the tree. “See? Looks great! We did it!”

He frowns, “It’s not… Perfect, though.”

“Well, maybe not,” you shrug, “but we did it, and the effort we put into it is what makes it perfect for this little flat.” Ralph’s ears turn pink at the notion of you potentially calling something you’ve done together perfect. “Right, now it’s time for the ornaments. And no judging them, okay?”

Your warning doesn’t stop him. “What on earth is this?”

You look over and grin. “It’s a monkey! Look at its little face,” you coo. “I got given it ’cause I like monkeys.”

“But why is it skiing?” Ralph asks, poking at the crocheted skis stitched onto its crocheted feet.

“Because it’s Christmas, duh,” you deadpan sarcastically, squinting at Ralph as though it were the most obvious thing in the world as you point out the Santa hat it’s wearing. He mimics your expression back to you, making you laugh, which only makes him smile as he eventually admits defeat and puts the ornament on the tree.

Once the tree is decorated, you step back and huff out a harsh breath. “Please tell me it’s all over now,” Ralph groans.

You giggle, “If you wanna stop, then fine, but I still have to put the decorations around the rest of the flat.”

“N-no! We have to - we’re decorating together, aren’t we?” Ralph asks hurriedly.

“Well, yeah, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can take it from here, I only really needed help with the lights -”

“No! It’s fine! I can help!” Ralph rummages through the box closest to him and pulls out something long, plastic and green. “What is this?” he frowns.

“Oh!” you laugh, embarrassed. “Oh, we don’t have to put that one up this year. That’s, um… Have you ever heard of mistletoe? The plant you’re supposed to… kiss under?” At those words, the fake sprig flies out of Ralph’s hands as though he’s been poked by a cattle prod. You watch it eventually land on the other side of the flat, impressed at its airtime, before continuing. “Yeah, it’s a dumb joke everyone makes about me being chronically single, so they put it up over the door in case I happen to come in with someone else, but obviously now I… I have you here, so… It’d. Be weird,” you falter as you instead focus on digging out a garland of tinsel to drape across the table, and definitely not on the thought of potentially having an excuse to kiss Ralph without consequence. You definitely don’t keep staring at the fake mistletoe on the floor and you definitely don’t consider hanging it up anyway.

Of course you can’t. Ralph blushes at the mere thought of his hand being held, to force him into a situation where he’d feel coerced to kiss you is far worse than never getting to. Instead, you just find a natural excuse to move over to that part of the flat to kick it out of sight. No need to acknowledge it any more.

Not that Ralph could acknowledge it anyway, either, his mind’s too full of thoughts of being able to hold the mistletoe between you two whenever he had the urge to kiss you and you having to comply, followed by his own silent self-scolding of how vastly inappropriate such an action would be.

Once the house is finally all decorated, you and Ralph collapse on the sofa. “Well, thank goodness that’s all over!” Ralph exclaims exhaustedly. “Though, I must say, it does still look… Festive. Even if not all of it is coordinated.”

“Wanna know the worst bit?” you hold back laughter. “We’re not even gonna be here to appreciate this on actual Christmas Day.”

“We’re?” Ralph asks, before nodding in sad realisation. “Ah. Because you’re going away and I can’t be trusted to provide for myself, still,” Ralph scolds himself quietly, but you frown, leaning yourself against him sympathetically.

“It’s not that! You’ve been doing pretty well lately, actually,” you smile at him. “No, I’m going to my parents’ for Christmas, and they wanna meet my new friend, Ralph.”

His ears turn bright red. “You - You, want… Want me to meet your p-parents?”

“Yeah! They already know all the others, they like to stay up to date with all the people in my life. Figured it’s about time they met my flatmate, eh,” you nudge him with your elbow and he laughs half-heartedly.

“Yes, quite,” he replies faintly. He still hadn’t found the right time to tell you about his encounter with Pete, and the momentum of bringing back anything from that weekend especially has long since gone. So as far as you know, he’s still on borrowed time. And now you want your family knowing about him? What sort of motivation would you have for taking him with you?

Unless, of course, you had been telling Ralph a white lie when you’d said it’s not that he can’t be trusted in the flat by himself. You probably just still want to keep a close eye on him. That has to be it. There’s no other logical reason.

~~~

“Remind me again how you two met, then?” your dad asks Ralph at the dinner table.

From memory, Ralph recites the backstory you’d created on your way there in a slightly stilted tone, “I am a family friend of Connor’s, who I know you’re familiar with.” You ignore the disapproving looks your parents share - of all your friends, Connor was always the one they were the least keen on, which is why you felt it safest to use him as a backstory since they’re the least likely to talk to him - as he continues. “I had recently left an… Unfortunate situation, I sought him out, he unfortunately had too many housemates as it was, but…” Ralph looks over at you, seeking approval in his storytelling.

“But then I came to the rescue,” you beam, quickly squeezing Ralph’s hand in affirmation under the table. The pink of his ears is obscured from your view when he looks over to you, as you smile at him proudly while your parents aren’t looking.

“What I don’t understand is,” your mum starts, takes her time chewing an entire mouthful of food, then carries on, pointing her fork at you, “have you moved and not told us, then? ’Cause I swear you were living in that one-bed, unless…” she waves her fork between the two of you with raised eyebrows, and you roll your eyes.

“There’s a sofa too, Mum,” you explain. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“Well, still, the sofa is no place for a young man like him to sleep on long-term, what about his poor back?” she asks.

Ralph looks at you like a deer in headlights, silently asking you if you should admit that he’s not the one sleeping on it. You try your best to give him a reassuring look as you rack your brain to think of a response, but your dad catches on, dropping his cutlery onto his plate in outrage. “Do not tell me you pay almost a grand a month to sleep on your own sofa.”

Ralph’s head hangs in shame, but you come to his defence. “I don’t! Ralph pays towards the rent now that he’s got a steady job, and it only started because I didn’t realise he was going to be staying this long.”

“So, I assume you’re saving up for your own place in the meantime, then?” your father asks Ralph, who has been too busy focusing on eating the rest of his meal in silence. Ralph simply nods at him, and your dad grunts, “Well. At least you’re getting there. And you both haven’t killed each other, yet, so things must be going well!” he laughs loudly, and Ralph forces out his own laugh in slight fear.

You roll your eyes again, “God, Dad, you’re so weird sometimes. C’mon, Ralph, help me clear the table.” You gesture with your head as you stand up and start collecting the plates. Ralph follows suit, following you into the kitchen. You mumble, “Really sorry about them. If it helps, my dad’s only ribbing you that much because he likes you. It’s his weird way of scoping you out to see if you can take it.”

Ralph nods with a frown. “So, should I also be as verbally biting back to him? Is that what he wants?”

“No! No, no, no,” you reply quickly, shaking your head. “Just laugh along with him, maybe a quick quip back every once in a while to catch him off guard if you can think of one, but not too many. He’ll just get offended. You know how dads - Fuck,” you slam the heel of your hand into your eye. “You - yeah, sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s quite alright,” Ralph reassures with a small smile. “It’s actually quite refreshing to see parental figures who are… So invested in their child’s goings-on.”

You give him a quick hug. “If it’s too much, just excuse yourself and shoot me a text and I’ll be right up with you, okay?”

Ralph nods. “I should be alright, but thank you for your concern nonetheless.” His smile is faltering, but he’s trying to keep it up.

Once you’ve both washed everything up from dinner, you go to take both your bag and his up to the bedroom, but Ralph soon chases after you to take his own. “I can take it if you want,” you assure him, but he shakes his head. “You scared to be left alone with my parents?” you ask, amused, and he shakes his head again. You narrow your eyes. “Are you lying?” Ralph hesitates before shaking his head again, and you giggle.

Bag in tow, Ralph hurriedly makes his way halfway up the stairs before stopping and leaning over the railing to look down at you with a frown. “I am going the right way, aren’t I? Only you don’t seem to be following me.”

“No, no,” you stay stood there, crossing your arms and smirking with a sarcastic smugness. “You clearly know exactly where you’re going, don’t let me stop you!”

Ralph meekly makes his way back down the stairs to you, and you grin wickedly, “Why’d you come down for?”

“W-Well, because you sai- Excuse you!” Ralph exclaims as you rush past him and run up the stairs, laughing maniacally. Ralph sighs wistfully. If you were his, he would chase you up the stairs and into your bedroom until he could wrap his arms around you and tackle you onto your bed. He would tickle you mercilessly until you relent, both of you breathless and grinning and mere inches away until he would kiss you, and then you’d kiss him back, and then he’d kiss you back, and -

“Oi! Ralph! You coming up, or what?” Your voice from the top of the stairs pulls him back to reality with an almighty thud.

“Y- Uh, coming!” he calls up, running up the stairs to meet you. “So I really was right?”

“You ought to believe in yourself more, Ralphie boy,” you tease. “But also, yeah, you might have ended up sharing a bed with my parents instead,” you giggle before leading him into your childhood bedroom.

It’s no longer quite your childhood bedroom - the posters of boybands are thankfully stripped from your walls, most of your old toys have either been collecting dust in the loft or given new homes by now, and there’s a desk that takes up most of the room now even without the added fold-out bed. But it’s unmistakably yours.

Ralph takes out a plush toy that’s certainly seen better days and smiles fondly at it. “You did say you liked monkeys,” he notes, holding it up towards you.

You take it out of his hands and look at it affectionately, “Yeah! This was one of my first ever toys. Man, we’ve been through some stuff together.”

“Is that so?” Ralph moves from sitting on the fold-out bed to sitting next to you on your one. “I can’t particularly imagine you being the type to parade around a comfort toy.”

“I mean, not now, obviously! But as a kid, we were inseparable.” You tell Ralph stories from throughout your childhood, both from your own memory and ones recited by your parents. He listens attentively as you ramble on, so deep into your storytelling and pointing out other things in your room to help accentuate the story that you can’t see the adoration in Ralph’s eyes as he revels in hearing you speak.

Ralph can tell that he’s doing it. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game. Perhaps he can let his guard down a little, surely. After all, he knows that he’s not exactly on borrowed time anymore. Perhaps he could allow himself the luxury of assuming that the only barrier between friendship and more with you, is simply that you don’t know.

Not yet, he reminds himself. There’s still some work to be done. He manages to regain his composure in time for you to look back at him. “Ugh, but you don’t want to hear me keep on about all of this.”

“No, actually, I’ve rather enjoyed it,” Ralph blurts out, and you hide your face so that Ralph doesn’t see you blushing at such a simple comment.

Your parents call the two of you downstairs and you squeal, gently slapping down on Ralph’s thigh as you clamber off of the bed. “C’mon! It’s time!”

“Time for what?” Ralph frowns, trying desperately to ignore the warmth that lingers from your touch.

“All the real Christmas traditions to start!” you beam from the doorway.

“Ah, then I’ll simply be intruding on your family. I’ll be just fine waiting up here for you all, I shan’t interrupt,” he nods meekly, but you furrow your brow at him.

“You’re included too, idiot,” you grin affectionately, “now come on!” You wave him out of the door with you and he follows, dumbfounded.

You join your parents in the living room, sitting on the floor by the tree. You pat the spot next to you for Ralph to sit, too, which he does, crossing his legs as he gets comfortable. “What is all of this about?” he asks. “Why are all of the presents tucked behind the tree?”

“We get those out later, so they don’t get confused with these,” you point out the two gifts in front of you. Ralph studies them both, perplexed, and so you explain, “These are our Christmas Eve boxes!”

“Wh- what is a - I didn’t prepare for this,” he mutters to you, looking upset.

“Oh, don’t be! This isn’t an everyone tradition, it’s just something Mum and Dad always did for me, and any friends that’d come over for Christmas Eve,” you shrug. “That includes you!”

Ralph wells up, “I - I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s nothing, really,” your mum waves off. “It’s just some silly things we put together for the night ahead. Gets us all into the Christmas spirit, you know?”

You nudge Ralph’s box towards him and grin. “Ready to open?”

Ralph kicks his knees up and down excitedly, “Yes! Oh,” he stops himself immediately, “but you should go first.”

“We can open them together, you big silly,” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly before placing your hands ready to rip at your gift and looking at Ralph expectantly. He nods, and you both open your boxes at the same time.

As always, there’s a set of Christmassy pyjamas, some fluffy socks, a small packet of hot chocolate along with various toppings and various snacks. Ralph has identical contents. You beam up at your parents, “It’s a movie night this year!” You quickly explain to Ralph that your parents either plan Christmas Eve night to be a movie night, game night or some other activity that they provide the necessities for in your Christmas Eve boxes.

“Yeah, well,” your dad shrugs, “we didn’t want to subject Ralph to a family game night just yet.”

“Yeah, we want him to like us, first!” your mum laughs, and Ralph’s face lights up.

“Oh, please, rest assured, Mrs -”

“Oi!” she interrupts, and Ralph’s face falls again, but she softens immediately. “No formalities here, alright? We’re family here.”

He’s family. Ralph once again battles the urge to cry as he simply states with a smile, “Right, well, there’s certainly no chance of me being anything but eternally grateful for your generosity.”

“Now why can’t you be more like him, eh?” your dad asks jokingly. “How come we get all the sass?”

“Because I was raised by you,” you point out with a smirk, and your dad barks out a loud laugh, ruffling your hair as he does so.

“Go on, away with you both, get yourselves ready!” he ushers you both away and you scoop your box up in your arms as you get up. Ralph does the same, and you tell him to get changed in the bedroom while you go into the bathroom. You meet back in the hallway, and instinctively hold your cheeks at the sight in front of you. Whether it’s the delusion the two of you wearing matching outfits creates, or just the sight of how adorable Ralph looks while drowning in fleece, you frantically regain yourself long enough to take a photo in the big mirror on the wall to send to the group chat before leading Ralph to the kitchen to prepare your snacks.

You make up the hot chocolate for the pair of you while Ralph has the simple task of pouring sweets and snacks into corresponding bowls. Once he’s done, and placed them out in the living room, he returns looking quite proud of himself. “Alright, ready to top off your drink?” You ask as you grab the can of whipped cream out of the fridge, shaking it and squirting a dollop into your mouth for good measure. You point the can at Ralph, who looks at you quizzically before opening his mouth out of curiosity. You give him a mouthful, too, which he tastes with delight spreading over his face. You mirror him. “It’s good, innit?” He nods excitedly and you wave him over to where your two mugs sit. “Okay, so you wanna get it at the right angle, you want it on the drink, but you don’t want it to blow the stuff out of the mug. Got it?” Ralph watches you with great intent, nodding slowly, and you hand the can over to him. “Now you try!”

You really should be utilising the time making sure Ralph gets his aim right, or at least by adding the rest of your favourite toppings, but instead you’re having to spend it restraining yourself from thinking all kinds of thoughts about the way Ralph’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates, especially when it moves around with the nozzle.

It’s only when you notice the pile of whipped cream looking especially tall that you finally grab his wrist with a giggle. He breaks his trance to look over at his compared to yours, and he ends up laughing as well. “Oh, drat, I’ve rather overdone it, haven’t I?”

“Just a little,” you laugh before grabbing your favourite toppings and adding them to your drink.

Your parents laugh when they see the state of your drinks as you and Ralph sit on the sofa together, and you quickly look over to make sure Ralph isn’t offended by it, already planning on your damage control spiel, but he seems to have… Accepted that they aren’t laughing unkindly at him. Your heart swells at the thought that he feels just at home with your family as he does with your friends. If only you could all keep him around all the time.

Despite you being the one to pick out your favourite Christmas movie to show Ralph, it’s hard to concentrate on it when he’s grazing at his whipped cream like a baby cow to grass, especially when some of it gets caught on his nose. You stifle a laugh at that, but he hears and looks over at you in confusion. You swipe it away with your thumb, then suck at your thumb to get it off of yourself as you turn back to watch the movie. Ralph is grateful both that you decided to look away, and that the room is so dimly lit, though his ears burn so harshly they could well be glowing regardless.

You’re not certain how far you made it into the movie before you drifted off to sleep, but you definitely don’t remember being leant against Ralph with a blanket over you at the time, despite that being how you wake up now. As you stir, you jump up suddenly, which alarms Ralph, too. You notice your parents are no longer in the room. “Ah, finally, I was going to, um, perhaps try and wake you myself so that you weren’t down here all night,” Ralph explains.

“Too used to sleeping on sofas these days,” you smile sleepily, and Ralph chuckles under his breath. “How come you’re still here?”

“Well, I’m at the end of the seat, so you would have just… You know…” Ralph mimics the motion of you falling flat onto the couch cushion with his hand, making you giggle. “Can’t have that. I, um, pulled the blanket over from the back of the seat, too. I hope that’s okay with your parents.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Blankets are for sleeping under.”

“Yes, but… I didn’t know if it was just there for decoration,” he explains.

You shake your head. “Ralph, mate, we’re not rich enough to have decorative shit and purposeful shit. It’s all… Shit,” you shrug with a laugh. You flash your phone up to check the time, “Ooh, it’s almost midnight, we’d better go upstairs before Santa gets down here!”

“You know he isn-” Ralph cuts himself off and starts again, softer this time. “You really do get into the whole Christmas thing, don’t you?”

You shrug as you both climb the stairs, “It’s all about spending time with loved ones and showing each other you care.” Loved ones. Loved. Ralph has to squeeze his thumbs to make sure he doesn’t visibly show any kind of reaction to those words.

You clamber into your old bed, and Ralph does so into his little camping bed for the night. “Goodnight,” he calls. “Pleasant dreams.”

“You too, Ralphie.”

The next morning, you wake up super early, as per usual for you. No matter how old you get, the excitement of Christmas morning never leaves you. You happily text all of your friends a Merry Christmas and catch up on some social media posts, silently reminding yourself to make sure you get a good photo of Ralph later for his.

He stirs not long after you, looking up at you and smiling sleepily. “I guessed you’d wake early. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” you grin. “Ugh, yeah, but now Mum and Dad insist on having a “lie-in” and having “breakfast first”,” you make air quotes with your fingers and roll your eyes.

“Well, if you wanted to exchange some gifts early, I could, um… Well… There’s one that I can give and another that’s… Sort of… More abstract,” Ralph stammers, looking and feeling around for his bag.

“Calm it, Ralph, it’s okay. Here, can I give you mine first, and then you can figure out all the… Logistics of yours?” You gesture around with your hands, and he nods.

You take his present out of your bag and hand it to him, and he immediately frowns. “This looks big. Little on the heavy side, too.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you smirk.

“Well, I should rather hope you didn’t spend too much on me, since you’ve already done more than eno- Oh, heavens!” Ralph exclaims as he reveals his present. “Is this -” You nod with a grin, and he gasps. “But, how could you - I mentioned seeing it one time when we met up for lunch that day weeks ago, I - This must have cost a small fortune -”

“Hey, having other friends in the same industry helps. I got it for cheaper than you’d have seen it for, if that makes you feel better accepting it.”

“I should very much like to try it on, but perhaps while wearing something a little more… Dignified,” he says softly as he admires the coat you’d picked out for him. “Anyway!” He folds it very, very carefully and then protrudes his ukulele from his bag, plucking at strings to make sure it’s still in tune.

You gasp excitedly, “Ralph, did you write me a song?”

“Oh, heavens, no, I could never write a song worthy of all you have done for me!” He shakes his head violently. “No, but, well… I know we’ve sort of… Never really spoken about, about that weekend that we were away, but I knew that I would only say the wrong things, and… And on the drive back, Anna had told me that sometimes songs exist to put words to things that you can’t do yourself, and so… I mean, of course, not all of the lyrics, pertain, but enough of them say what I want them to… Oh, fiddlesticks, I’m rambling now…”

You cock your head to look at him with a humoured grin. “Ralph… Can I guess who the original singer of whatever you’re about to sing is?”

His ears tint pink. “Can I just… Play it, please?” he asks nervously.

You nod sincerely. “Of course. The stage is yours.”

Ralph starts playing a song you recognise as Afterglow by, of course, Taylor Swift. You’ve heard the song on occasion, but coming from Ralph, with nothing but his strings accompanying him, the lyrics really start to hit close to home. “I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue / Put you in jail for something you didn't do” … “It's all me in my head, I'm the one who burned us down, but it's not what I meant, sorry that I hurt you / I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you / I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you” … “I lived like an island, punished you with silence / Went off like sirens, just crying”

Other lyrics sound an absolute delight in Ralph’s voice. If it weren’t for his little disclaimer that not all of the words echoed his thoughts, you could have convinced yourself he was singing to you. “Why'd I have to break what I love so much?” … “Just wanna lift you up and not let you go / This ultraviolet morning light below / Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh” … “Tell me that you're still mine / Tell me that we'll be just fine” … “Tell me that it's not my fault / Tell me that I'm all you want”

You’re moved close to tears by the time he finishes, but you still make sure you applaud him, in fear of making him think you feel anything less than an immense appreciation for him. “That was… Beautiful, Ralphie. Thank you,” you mutter quietly, trying to hold yourself together. “But… You know, you don’t need to shoulder all of the blame for that night, right? I was bang out of order, too, it was just a lot of built-up stress and - and alcohol, and -” You shake your head. “Anyway. Those words are… So sweet. Too sweet. It wasn’t all you. And look! We didn’t lose anything, right? And we’re not gonna.” The last part catches in your throat. You are gonna lose him, eventually. Whenever Homeless Pete informs you of your doomed fate. You instead pull Ralph in for a hug to show your gratitude.

Ralph can see something bothers you about the words that you’ve said. Now is the time, he tells himself, giving himself a little pep talk. Now he can tell you all about what happened, why he went ‘missing’ that weekend. He can tell you that he’s here to stay, as long as you want him to.

But instead he watches you push him out of the hug, hold him at arms’ length and shake your head. “No, that’s it, I’m not getting any more upset or else I’ll get your nice new PJs all snotty. From now on, that weekend is a banned topic of conversation. We’ve both said our piece, now. There’s no need to revisit it. Deal?” You hold your pinky out at him.

Defeatedly, he links his little finger with yours. “A promise,” he says with a nod, before realising. “Oh, heavens! There’s another part to your gift, isn’t there!”

You frown, “Mate, you’ve only had one paycheck so far, I hope you haven’t blown it all on me!”

“Not all of it, um… This is more of a… Well, I spent more in effort than I did in money, let’s put it that way.” He leans down to pick up a small parcel that now rests on the fold-out bed, that you open to find a small binder. About the size of your palm, but longer. You start to flip through the coloured slips of card kept in the plastic wallets of the binder. This coupon entitles you to: a night out at that jazz club we liked. “Apologies,” Ralph pipes up, reading over your shoulder to see which one you’re looking at, “I forgot the name of the club itself. But you know where I mean. They’re all colour-coded, so the purple ones mean ones where we go out somewhere, blue means I do something around the house - something big, mind you, we share the jobs, I haven’t forgotten - green are to do with yo- our friends, yellow are…” He scrunches his face up as he tries to remember, “Oh! Yellow is for more fun things to do that don’t cost much, orange ones are ones that have a time limit on them, and red, well… Red are… I’m not sure how to explain them."

You thumb through the binder. This coupon entitles you to: one three-course meal cooked by me* *My cooking will be fully supervised by a separate third party. This coupon entitles you to: a full-group picnic that I will facilitate. This coupon entitles you to: a phone-free movie marathon evening. This coupon entitles you to: Exactly three days’ access to that blue jumper you like so much.

You bark out a laugh at that last one, “Only three days at a time?!”

Ralph pulls a face, “Be thankful you’re getting any days without guaranteed complaint!”

“True,” you nod in acceptance. You flip to the first red coupon and your heart sinks. This coupon entitles you to: kick me out of the flat for a whole day. “Ralph…” you state quietly, sadly.

“Yes, well…” Ralph’s voice is stilted, too. “I know that I’m an awful lot to be around, and I’m not saying that for pity’s sake! But if you ever need a day all to yourself, you can just… Hand me one of those, and I’ll find something to do with myself instead.”

You look through all the red slips. Several entitle you to a Ralph-free day, as well as switching you both between the sofa and then bed for a period of time left blank for you to determine. Another few simply state that they entitle you to tell Ralph to stop talking. “Why would I want that from you?” you ask softly, showing him that coupon specifically.

He shrugs, “Well… If I’m prying too much, say, into things that are too personal, instead of arguing again, you can just give me this and I’ll have received the message, loud and clear.”

You nod slowly, and Ralph’s eyes widen as you start taking out red slip after red slip. You look him dead in the eye and say, “I respect the time and effort you put into these, but,” you grab a handful of them and rip them in half, “you’re gonna have to think of a new thing for reds to be. Sorry.” You keep ripping them up until there is no more entitlement to suppress Ralph being Ralph. “I do love all of the others, though. Really. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Once again feeling the urge to cry, you hug him again. This time, it’s tighter. It’s warmer. It doesn’t seem to have an end.

Until you finally hear your parents call you down for breakfast.

After you’ve all eaten, and you and Ralph have cleared up the kitchen for your parents, you make your way to the tree, where your parents have sorted out three small piles. Ralph looks perplexed at the small box left over. “You seem to have forgotten one, should I put it with - Oh,” his eyes widen as he picks it up and reads the words To Ralph written on the label. Looking up at your parents, he shakes his head. “Oh, p- please, you and your family have already shown me far too much generosity, and I haven’t got a single thing to share with you -”

Your dad waves him off, “We’ve heard that you’ve been in a bad spot up until now, and just thought you deserve a little something nice to see the year off with.”

“Why don’t you start us off, dear?” your mum encourages him to unwrap his gift, and he does so tenderly, looking agape at the box as it’s revealed.

“Oh, wow, what a beautifully packaged - Well, that smells delightful!” he chirps as he takes a small bottle out from the box.

You look at your parents incredulously. “So, when I’d known you for all eight years of my life at the time, and I asked you lot for a Furby, you got me some cheap knockoff from the market that was definitely possessed by the devil since it wouldn’t shut up even after we took the batteries out, but you know Ralph for five minutes and you give him -” You glance over at the bottle filled with a viscous purple liquid to read the label and then look back at them - “Dior soap?!”

“Well, yeah, we like him better,” your dad teases, laughing loudly.

“We just… Have a bit more money these days, and like you said to us, he deserves to be spoiled a little after the time he’s had,” your mum simpers.

“Yeah, well, next year I want my Furby,” you grin, taking the bottle from Ralph’s hands and smelling the lid. “Oh my god, that smells amazing!”

“Doesn’t it, though!” your mum chirps. “And, get this, the main reason we bought it was because we saw the photos of him that you’d sent us, and the man on the adverts for that particular scent -”

Your dad interrupts her with a groan, rolling his eyes. “Here we go again, you know what your mother’s like for her lookalikes.”

“What do you mean!” Your mum frowns at him. “He did look like Ralph!”

“You expect me to trust the same person who thinks Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling look identical?” You raise your eyebrows at her, and she frowns.

“They’re very easy to mix up!” she defends.

Once presents are open, it’s time for your favourite part of the day. You’re not sure what brought on your insistence on this tradition, but you’d warned Ralph ahead of time, and he’d gone on a little shopping spree with Scott to pick out his “fancy outfit” that has been the dress code for your family Christmas dinner for as long as you can remember, now.

Once again, you opt for the bathroom as your changing room of choice, and tell Ralph to meet in the hallway when you’re both ready. Feeling confident that you’re looking especially ready for the family photos this year, and excited for Ralph to be included in them, nothing could prepare you for what he’s dressed in.

You rack your brain trying to remember a time when you’d ever told Scott of the ideal outfit you’d always imagined your ideal partner wearing whenever you’d envisioned these fancy family dinners. Because here Ralph is, in a powder-blue dress shirt with just a few buttons undone, underneath a brown striped sweater vest paired with brown corduroys. His now-classic neck chain and rings adorn him. You try not to let your jaw hit the floor as you see him looking… Absolutely everything you’d spent your life imagining your perfect partner would look like.

“My goodness, you look… Radiant,” he gushes to you.

“Thank you! You’re looking especially handsome yourself,” you allow yourself that compliment to him. It’s a perfectly normal thing to say to your friends. You’d say it to any of yours. Definitely. Justifying yourself to your internal monologue is a completely normal thing to do.

You take some photos of him for his Instagram, though only one makes it:

The family dinner is as amazing as always. Ralph finally looks at ease around your parents as everyone compares Christmas cracker jokes, and your parents regale stories of past Christmases with you to him, to Ralph’s delight.

It seems such a shame to have to leave this little bubble, but unfortunately, the real world awaits. As does the next week of Pure Retail Hell that is the Boxing Day sales. You leave shortly after dinner so as to get plenty of rest in tonight.

Ralph gasps with delight as he realises, “I can wear my new coat with an outfit this nice!” Just when you thought the outfit was enough to see you off, it being topped off with the long, tan coat you’d bought him makes you want to grab it by the lapels, push him against the wall and kiss him until his brain short-circuits.

Instead, you focus on one particular feature of it, “Oh my god, it’s so swishy!”

Ralph looks at you, perplexed. “Swishy?!”

“Yeah! Like, look, go like this,” you rock yourself from side to side, mimicking the motion you’re expecting the coat to make with your hands. Ralph copies you, and positively giggles as he watches the swishing in motion.

“Look at it go!” He practically twirls himself around your parents’ hallway as you say your goodbyes.

“Keep hold of that one,” your mum says into your ear as she hugs you. “He’s a good’un.”

Your dad echoes a similar sentiment of, “Well, I don’t hate him.”

~~~

The next week is a blur of non-stop sales, returns, and most of all, Karens. You’re relieved to finally get a day off on the 31st, which is when you and your friends have decided to celebrate your own Christmas together.

Ralph insists that he will give everyone their own gifts as soon as he can afford to, to which everyone waves him off. “You’ve given me the gift of being able to yell about Taylor Swift to someone who has no idea what I’m on about. That’s all I’ll ever need,” Anna grins at him, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, and now I’ve got a new best mate to jam out with!” Connor nudges Ralph with his elbow. “Your uke’s just the beginning, wait until I teach you the guitar, and then, oh! We’ll be unstoppable, you and me!”

“Yeah, where would any of us be without our Ralphie, eh?” Grace asks, simpering at him.

“So, with all that being said…” Scott protrudes a final gift and hands it to Ralph. “We all clubbed together to get you something from all of us.”

“Not again!” Ralph wells up, looking at you sadly, but you grin.

“Go on, then! Open it!” you encourage him, and once again a familiar box appears beneath the wrapping paper.

“Oh! This is just like the soap your parents bought me, isn’t it?” Ralph asks, and you study the box.

“Yeah, but this is an actual aftershave, so you can smell like it even more now!” you explain.

“Aww, no more lemony Ralph,” Grace mutters sadly as Connor realises something.

“Did your parents happen to suggest that one because they thought the guy advertising it looked familiar?” Connor asks with a wicked grin, leaning towards Anna, whose face falls.

“Oh no, please don’t tell me your mum and I both thought the same person looked like the same person,” she groans, and you laugh.

“Don’t you think that Harry Potter kid was so good as Frodo in Lord of the Rings?” Connor teases in an impression of your mum, and the whole group laughs.

“Okay, in Mum’s defence, that’s one of her better comparisons,” you comment.

Anna frowns as she spots something poking out from underneath your kitchen counter. She goes to investigate and her curiosity becomes absolute glee as she protrudes the fake mistletoe from where you’d forgotten to pick it up and tidy it up. “What’s this doing here, then?!”

“Piss off,” you laugh, chasing her around the flat trying to take it from her, but she passes it onto Connor who brandishes it proudly.

“Ooh, I was wondering why this wasn’t in its usual spot! Who’ve you been smooching, hmm?” He waves it in your face as you approach him to snatch it out of his hand.

“Nobody! That’s why it’s been forgotten down there!” you frown.

“Yes, I think that’s rather my doing, I… I picked it up and then learned what it’s used for and I didn’t want anything… Presumptuous to occur,” Ralph admits, faltering as the sentence goes on. You don’t see the looks your friends all give each other as you frantically put it away in the first drawer you can find and usher them out.

“Okay, okay, this isn’t getting all the food and drink ready for later before all the shops shut, now, is it?”

As the day turns into night, you and Ralph get ready to celebrate at Connor’s. His place is the biggest, after all, and his housemates are all braving the bars of London on New Year’s Eve. You and your friends are all happy enough just bringing various platters of food and drinks each and ringing the new year in together.

Ralph insists on wearing his Christmas outfit again, much to your own dismay. You’ve already been ribbed enough by your friends over a simple plastic decoration, if they spot any sign of you showing any kind of genuine affection for Ralph then it’s all over. They’d want to play wingman, and you’d have to admit that you can’t pursue him. You’d have to tell them why, and admit that you’ve been lying to them for almost four months.

When you do show up at Connor’s, everyone’s obviously obsessed with Ralph’s outfit. Scott constantly makes sure some of the praise is returned back to him for choosing the clothes. You keep yourself busy while Ralph’s the main topic of conversation by organising all the food that everyone’s brought.

Several hours, several plates of food and several drinks later, the TV’s on with 10 minutes to go until midnight. Once you excuse yourself to the bathroom before the big countdown, everyone else nods to each other, setting their own plan in action. Connor and Grace each take a spot either side of Ralph, grinning as they simultaneously stretch out a, “Heeeey.”

“Hello,” Ralph looks at them both, confused.

“So, don’t know if you know this, what with you being all… Shut off from the modern world or whatever you had going on,” Connor starts. “But… There’s this sort of… Tradition when it comes to New Year's.”

“Of course, you kiss your loved ones. I’m not completely out of touch, we had that one growing up as well,” Ralph admits with amusement.

“Right, but obviously not all of us are loved up, see,” Connor continues.

“So, those that aren’t, can still get in on it, because obviously it’s bad luck for the whole year if you don’t get kissed at midnight,” Grace manages to keep a straight face as she lies to Ralph. “And we’re really superstitious here.”

“Y- You are?” He asks, his eyes darting between the two nervously.

“Yeah, but it’s easily avoided,” Grace wraps her arms around one of Ralph’s. “If you’re single, and it’s midnight, you just kiss the closest single person to you,” she looks up at him hopefully.

Ralph feels his mouth go dry. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. And flattered as I may be, mate, I don’t think it’s gonna be me,” Connor laughs.

“Right. Well, I appreciate you for keeping me in the loop,” Ralph nods, and the pair return the gesture, smiling coyly at each other before running off.

Two minutes to go. Everyone that’s brought a date is actively chatting away to them. Ralph is standing by the wall, anxiously looking around. You make yourself busy by making yourself another drink, and Scott notices, peeling himself away to quickly jog over to you. “Hey, uh, I think Ralph was looking for you.”

You frown, “Is he alright? He’s not gotten drunk already?”

“No! He won’t say what’s up, you know what he’s like, he’s in one of those where he doesn’t want to call for you, but we can all tell he wants something. Y’know? And you know him better than anyone. Better hurry it up, though,” Scott adds with a slight grimace before running back to his partner.

It takes a moment to find him, skulking in the outskirts of the room. He doesn’t even notice you approach until you nudge his arm. “You alright?” you ask him, and he looks at you like a deer in headlights.

“Um… Uh… Well, yes, but rather… Oh…” He flounders as everyone starts chanting a countdown from 10. Ralph licks his lips, his eyes flicking down to yours before quickly snapping back up to gauge your reaction nervously.

It almost seems too perfect. He smells of his new aftershave, all woody and floral but still that classic citrus note remains. He’s wearing that outfit. His big brown eyes are almost enough distraction from the way the tip of his tongue pokes out to trace his lips, but not quite enough. You feel your breath getting heavier as the sound of your friends shouting drowns every other thought in your head.

“- 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 –!”

A/N: I know. I'm the worst. Happy New Year, babies. ;)

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