#literally five hours of throwing up in the dark. we got stuck behind a santa claus parade in mattawa for 20 mins & i thought i might die

[nedlittle]

"hyperpop would kill a victorian child" "redbull would kill a victorian child" you know what WOULD actually kill a victorian child? being motion sick on a long-haul bus ride

[ticklishhpickle]

Even Santa Ships It

Summary: Phil wakes up the night before Christmas to find a sassy, sarcastic Christmas elf by the name of Dan in his kitchen, feet tangled up in Christmas lights and surrounded by gingerbread crumbs. Phil doesn’t mind.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: none

Read on AO3! ———-> http://archiveofourown.org/works/13078551

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“OW!”

Phil Lester yelped as his hand came into contact with the hot tray. It was probably a bad idea to not wear oven mitts. He rushed over to the sink to cool his burnt hand, turning on the cold water to full blast. Santa better be grateful, he thought as the cool liquid soothed his skin. After a few minutes of wound care, Phil felt his hand was well enough to ice the cookies he had left haphazardly cooling in his mortal enemy- the tray, that was half hanging off the bench.

Phil smiled as he finished icing the 25th and last cookie of the batch. He looked at his work, the lines on the gingerbread mens’ arms were a little too squiggly, but the small eyes and mouths were drawn on quite well, if Phil did say so himself. He did this every year. He would bake 25 cookies for Santa every Christmas, changing the type of cookie from year to year. Last year was shortbread, the year before macaroon, and the year before that snickerdoodle.

Phil’s flatmate, Paul, along with the rest of his friends and family thought it was absolutely ridiculous that Phil carried out this tradition.

“28 is too old to still entertain this idea that Santa is real!” Paul would always say. “And it’s getting kind of sad for you to keep making these cookies every year, only for them to go to waste. I’m sure you just throw them all out in the morning before I wake up.”

Phil knew better than these non-believers, however. Each and every morning without fail, Phil would wake up to find the cookie plate completely wiped, and he knew for a fact he hadn’t eaten them himself, and there was no way Paul would dispose of or eat all the cookies just to keep Phil’s belief in Santa alive- he was Phil’s worst critique when it came to this tradition, and in addition, a devout vegan.

Phil pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. It was everyone else’s loss if they refused to believe in something that could guarantee them a nice gift and a bit more excitement in their life every year. Less work for Santa as well, anyway. Another Christmas eve would need to be added to the calendar in order for Santa to deliver gifts to believers and non-believers alike.

His musings had distracted him from the real job of cleaning up, so Phil made quick haste to clean all the flour of the counter. A dirty kitchen would not suffice for someone as amazing as Santa. After pouring a tall glass of almond milk(it was the only milk they had, Phil being lactose intolerant and Paul being a vegan) and placing it next to the cookies, Phil was satisfied and trudged upstairs to his bedroom, falling into a deep sleep.

It was only an hour or so later when Phil jumped awake, disturbed by the suspicious clattering downstairs. Phil groaned sleepily and attempted to fall back asleep, only to hear the clattering get louder. Wait. Phil thought. It’s Christmas! Could it be… Santa downstairs? Every other Christmas of Phil’s life, he had been good and slept through the night, despite the temptation to wake up and spy on the chubby man bringing him presents. But surely a peek wouldn’t hurt. Phil hesitated for a moment before hopping out of bed, nearly tripping over his plaid pyjama pants in the process.

Phil slowly crept to the top of the stairwell, cringing every time the floorboards squeaked a little.

He peered down, shaking with excitement to see the supposedly fat and white-haired man who had been bringing him presents every year without fail. What Phil did not expect to see was a mess of gingerbread pieces and crumbs covering the floor, several dented and poorly wrapped gifts spilling out of a sack, and an awkwardly tall figure who was attempting to wriggle his foot out of a string of Christmas lights. What the hell was going on?

Phil swiftly padded down the staircase and walked over to the figure.

“Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?!”

Phil felt his heart skip a beat when the figure turned around. The first thing Phil noticed was the warm, brown eyes of the stranger, nearly covered by a swept brown fringe. The second thing and third things Phil noticed was the dark green pointed hat he wore, that did little to cover the long pointy ears attached to his head.  

“Well, gee-whiz, you’re not even going to offer to help me? It’s not like, you know my feet are stuck in a pile of shitty dollar store lights, preventing me from moving.”

“Oh! Sorry about that!” Phil felt his face flush as he bent down to untangle the string of Christmas lights. He spent all of 10 seconds untangling the lights in silence before he realised.

“Wait. You never answered my question.” Phil eyed the admittedly good-looking stranger suspiciously.

“How impressive of you to have noticed!” The brown-haired boy rolled his eyes.

“You’re clearly not Santa, so who are you, and what are you doing in my flat?” Phil finished untangling the lights and stood up.

“Well what does it look like? I’m a fucking elf. You think I wear these candy stripe leggings because I like them?” Oh. Now Phil felt a bit stupid. The pointy ears alone should have been a dead giveaway from the start. Oops. Phil knew the reason he didn’t notice was probably because he was too distracted with the elf’s other facial features.

“Oh. That makes sense. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here, I’m 100% sure Santa’s the one who’s supposed to deliver all the presents on Christmas Eve…”

“Well Santa’s been a bit of a lazy little shit this year, it seems like.” Phil’s jaw dropped. Was he hearing this correctly? Weren’t Christmas elves supposed to be happy, bright and jovial, and most importantly,  respectful of Santa claus?

“I’m not kidding. The jolly old man literally makes me do all the work for the London precinct.”

Phil found himself holding back giggles at this. The statement itself wasn’t really funny in nature, it was just the way the elf had said ‘literally’, which made it sound more like ‘litTRAlly’. And to hear one of Santa’s own elves sassing the big man himself, was quite an experience in itself.

The elf seemed pleased that Phil was amused, a genuine smile on his face. “And don’t even get me started on the things he does to those reindeer, I mean whipping stopped being relevant the second Fifty Shades was published.”

This time Phil could not stop the wave of laughter that overtook his body. He laughed the hardest he had in weeks, his sides feeling like they were splitting.

“Oh my god,” He muttered, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Seriously, who are you?” He shook his head at the ground, smiling.

“Dan. And don’t forget it.”

“So you’re telling me you, a literal Christmas elf got put on the naughty list? Is that even legal?”

Phil was astounded at the amazing stories Dan had been telling him for who knows how long. The two men- well the man and, one elf were sitting on Phil’s couch, indulging themselves in the gingerbread man Phil had so lovingly made before. To Phil’s surprise he and the sassy elf had quite a lot in common. They both liked Muse, Pokemon and agreed that memes were like pizza. When they were good, they were really good. And when they were bad, they were still pretty damn good.

“Yup. That’s Dan for you. And it literally wasn’t even intentional! I just- I kind of didn’t realise my earphones weren’t plugged into my phone, so Newborn was playing loud enough to wake up Santa- and all 37 other elves in the London precinct.”

Phil giggled for what had been probably the hundredth time that night, his tongue poking out of his teeth. He hated how it did that, it looked sooo stupid. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, only to find Dan looking at him with a strange sort of fascination.

“Why do you cover your mouth whenever you laugh, Phil?” Dan’s eyes held something in them that Phil couldn’t name.

“Because I look stupid! My stupid tongue always pokes out of my teeth when I laugh, I look absolutely ridiculous.” Phil was even more embarrassed now, why did Dan have to ask him about that?

“I guess that’s something we don’t share a common opinion on then, hm?”

For the first time the entire night, an awkward silence fell over them. What was Phil supposed to say to that? Was that almost a compliment?!?  Oh god. And they were having such a nice time too! Phil had taken to staring at the wall behind Dan when he heard someone padding down the stairs.

“PHILIP MICHAEL LESTER,  who the hell is this and why is he in our house?” Paul exclaimed angrily, eyeing Dan up and down suspiciously. “And great cheap elf costume by the way, pfft.”

Don’t get him wrong, Phil loved his flatmate. It was just right now, he wouldn’t mind seeing the entirety of Paul and his sad existence burn in a wildfire.

“Paul! Don’t be rude! This is Dan, he’s an elf who’s been helping Santa out tonight. Santa’s too busy to visit all the houses in one night.” Phil knew this explanation would not satisfy Paul in the slightest, he was the biggest Santa/Christmas skeptic Phil knew.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Dan nodded casually, popping another piece of gingerbread man into his mouth.

Paul just glared at Phil disappointedly. “I’m going to give you one minute to admit that you hired an actor to play an elf, in order to convince me that the whole stupid Santa and Christmas elves thing is real, which you’ve been trying to do for the past five years.”

Phil was desperate to convince Paul of the truth, but he wasn’t sure how.

“No! Paul I didn’t hire anyone, you know I save all my money for new house plants, not this kind of stuff! He is a real elf!” Phil widened his eyes and stuck his bottom out a little. His pouty face always worked to soften Paul up a little, even in the worst situations.

“You can feel my ears if ya like, buddy. 100% real, they won’t come off.” Dan winked weirdly at Paul.

Phil wanted to slap Dan! Paul would not understand Dan’s weird, ironic but hilarious sense of humour. Wait, why was Phil acting as if he knew Dan’s humour well? They literally met a few hours ago, but for some reason it kinda felt like more. Phil decided not to dwell on it and instead focussed on Paul hesitantly stroking, and then pulling, rather harshly on Dan’s ears.

“FUCK OFF MATE!” Dan screeched when Paul gave a particularly hard tug.

“Alright fine, look, in the morning I’ll probably realise that it is just some really, really good silicon covering, but right now, I’m tired as shit and you know what Phil, if you say he’s an elf… he’s an elf. Anyway, who would wear those candy striped leggings willingly? Just try to keep it down please, Phil.” Paul sighed at the end of his small rant and plodded back up the stairs, leaving Dan and Phil alone again.

The awkward silence from before nearly settled back in before Dan broke it.

“So…”

“So… wait- don’t you have like at least, I don’t know, a few hundred other houses to deliver presents to?” Phil couldn’t believe he only just realised this, why was Dan wasting so much time with Phil, practically a stranger to him, when he had presents to deliver?

Dan looked like he had shit himself and been told he was adopted at the same time.

“Fuck.”

Phil poured himself a cup of hot chocolate and sighed. It had been a good few days since Christmas, and while the day itself was great, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the strangely tall, sarcastic he had met the other day. Phil would be lying to say that he kind of, may have wanted to get Dan’s number. What? You couldn’t blame him. Phil hadn’t connected with someone as well as he had with Dan for those few hours in… ever really. Maybe when he first met Paul, but that felt a lot more platonic, the difference here being he didn’t want to run his fingers through Paul’s hair, or cuddle him to sleep, or take him out for a cute movie date.

And now Phil was never going to see Dan again. Just great. It probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Phil tried to comfort himself. Elves must have very busy lives, there’s no way he would have time for a friendship with me, let alone a relationship if he even did turn out to be attracted to guys- which was unlikely. Phil just had to accept that he was probably not going to see Dan ever again. He plopped two white marshmallows into his now lukewarm hot chocolate and sighed once again.

Just as Phil was about to take his first sip of the beverage, a loud knock on the door interrupted him. Phil placed the mug back on the bench, before walking over. Phil swung the door open to reveal a very cute, and very drenched looking elf. Phil’s heart practically sang, was luck finally on his side for once?

“Dan! Hi! Come in! What are you doing here?” Phil tugged Dan in by the sleeve of his ridiculous elf outfit.

“Well, first of all, hi. And second of all, just a quick, run of the mill check, for the- the PSP.” Dan looked off to the side for a second before looking back at Phil, pulling out an official looking clipboard with papers.

“The what?”

“PSP. Present satisfaction policy. This year, Santa’s decided to implement a new, worldwide policy where we check on each person we’ve delivered a present to a few days after Christmas, just to make sure they’re enjoying the gift and putting it to good use. Sure, it will take up quite a bit of time, but personally, I think it’s a great idea.”

Something about what Dan was saying seemed off, but Phil couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Kind of like he was hiding something, but Phil didn’t want to question it. He was just happy to see Dan again.

“I have been putting the cactus Santa gave me to great use actually!  Want to come look?” Phil beamed, hoping to persuade Dan to stay longer at his flat. He knew Dan probably had thousands more people to ask, but he was feeling a bit selfish, wanting to keep Dan to himself for a bit longer.

Dan nodded and smiled, the little dimple on his left cheek that Phil had noticed the first night showing a little. Phil smiled back.

“This cactus looks like a dick.” Dan snorted, trying (and failing) to hide his amusement at Phil’s Christmas gift.

“Well… usually I would fight it, but, you’re not wrong. At all.” Phil grinned at Dan again.

“This cactus certainly puts the SUCC in succulent, doesn’t it Philly?” The cheeky elf smirked at Phil, happily awaiting his reaction.

“Not as succulent as your MUM!” This time, both Dan and Phil were in hysterics. Phil had to hold his stomach to stop it from hurting so much from the laughter. After a few long minutes the boys finally calmed down, and a silence settled over them, but this time it was not awkward. Phil caught himself staring at Dan’s mouth, before blushing profusely and quickly averting his gaze. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“So um, what did you think of Paul?” Phil asked, in an attempt to get normal conversation flowing again.

A look of conflict flashed across Dan’s face, before it returned to normal. “Oh, he was, quite… interesting. I just love guys who pull on my ears until they bleed.” Dan’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, not that that was anything out of the ordinary.

“Look, Paul’s actually a cool guy, he’s just not the best with new people, especially when those people aren’t people and they are elves.” Phil shrugged apologetically.

“Oh, yeah, I get that.” Dan nodded understandably. “So, are you and Paul…?” The brown-haired boy looked a little nervous, and in Phil’s honest opinion, it was quite adorable.

“Oh, god no. We’re just best friends. And Paul’s as straight as a ruler. Why do you ask?” Phil scoffed at the idea of Paul and him dating. That would be the most disgusting thing in the history of the world. He shuddered.

“Pfft, no reason,” Dan’s eyes refused to meet Phil’s. Dan was quick to change the subject, Phil noticed.

“Anyway, did I ever tell you about the time I gifted an axe to a twelve year old for Christmas?” 

Phil walked the streets of London in a great mood the next day. He had spent several hours with a particular elven friend the day before, just chatting, exchanging banter and learning all the intel on Santa claus and co. Apparently there was a different Christmas precinct for each city in the world, but only one Santa. He was practically skipping down the road, but who could blame him? He had the number of a cute boy (who was probably straight but that was besides the matter), knowledge of what the real Santa actually looked like (thanks to said cute boy), and cute boy was coming over to Phil’s for a round of video games in a few hours. So it really was Dan, not Phil’s fault when Phil skipped right into someone on the path.

Phil instinctively yelped when his butt hit the solid ground. That was going to leave a mark. He looked over to the person he bumped into and his eyes widened. The man, sprawled on the ground like a defenseless turtle was the one and only Santa Claus, looking exactly like the picture Dan showed him just a few days earlier. Same bald spot, same glasses, and same brown sweater Dan swore he wore religiously.

“Santa? Is that you?” Phil felt overjoyed! This was the man he had been relentlessly baking cookies for, ever since he was four years old. Was this even real?

Santa had stood up by now, looking very concerned and ready to bolt.

“H-how do you know it’s me? Is my disguise not working that well?” The man’s voice was rich and deep, just how Phil always imagined it to be. His disguise, however, had room for improvement to say the least. Wearing a brown jumper didn’t disguise the fact that he looked like the walking advertisement for literally every Christmas product ever. Phil did not say this however, who was he to insult his idol?

“Oh! No, it’s a great disguise. I only know it’s you because one of your elves showed me a photo of you the other day. But that’s not the point. The point is, I can’t believe I’ve finally met you after all these years! Do you know how many cookies I’ve baked for you? I change the type of cookie every year!” Phil gushed out, his inner fangirl screaming.

A look of recognition washed over the old man’s face, followed by pure, childlike glee.

“Yes! Little Phil Lester! You’ve been baking 25 cookies for me every year since you were four years old. Last year was shortbread, the year before was macaroons, and the year before that was snickerdoodles! Now son, I’m not just saying this, but your cookies are THE BEST cookies I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a lot of cookies, I know, it may surprise you.” Santa nodded at Phil, obviously expecting him to nod back in agreement.

“And I love how you change the type of cookie every year! Do you know how sick I’m getting of chocolate chip? Could these kids BE any more basic with their cookie choices? You’ve done well, son.” Santa gave him a pat on the back, and Phil thought he might faint.

“Wow, Santa, I’m so glad you liked my cookies so much, I really do put so much effort into them. And I think it’s really great how you’ve started that present satisfaction policy, too! I think it will be really helpful, especially for kids who don’t always know what presents they want.”

Santa frowned, the lines in his forehead creasing up, and he cocked his head to the side. “Sorry son? What was this present policy you speak of?”

“You know, the policy you created to ensure maximum satisfaction of gifts where you send elves to check on everyone who’s been given a gift to make sure they like it?” Santa’s face still showed no signs of recognition, remaining creased and confused.

“Your elf Dan told me about it…” Phil trailed off awkwardly. 

The corners of the old man’s lips turned up at the mention of Dan’s name. Something had clicked in his brain, Phil was sure of that. He just wasn’t sure what. 

“Alright Philip, maybe you should speak to Dan about that, but I definitely did not impose any such policy of the sort.” He let out a hearty chuckle before patting Phil on the shoulder and walking away.

“And tell Dan Santa says to go for it!” he yelled, before turning the corner and disappearing.

Phil had never been more confused in his life. Why would Dan lie about something like that, especially when there wasn’t really anything he could gain from it? All he got from it was spending a few hours alone with Phil and- oh. Phil felt a blush creep up his neck and his heart swell. Surely it couldn’t though, what were the chances of the guy Phil was crushing on hard actually liking him back? Phil thought back to all the times Dan had blushed in his presence, or stared at Phil for a little too long, that Phil had previously chalked down to nervousness. Perhaps the chances weren’t as low as he had originally thought.

Phil was practically bursting at the seams with anticipation when Dan finally came over, video games in hand and a smile on his soft face. As soon as Phil had greeted him and seated him on the couch, he swooped.

“So I saw Santa today.”

“Ah, yes. In the picture on the back of your expired advent calendar, perhaps? Or maybe on the custom made bauble from the tree you still have up, even though Christmas was a week ago, Philly?” Dan quipped idly.

Phil shook his head. “No.” Oh boy was Dan in for a big treat.

“Actually, I saw him in the city today, I recognised him from the photo you showed me yesterday. Great guy, you know. He’s a big fan of my cookies.” Phil was giddy with excitement, his knees jittering.

The elf’s face showed no signs of worry, and he gestured at Phil to go on, still oblivious as to what was going to happen next.

“But you know what he isn’t Dan? The creator of the ‘Present Satisfaction Policy’. I think that title goes to you. And I think I know why.” Phil smirked. “It’s because you,” Phil tapped him on the nose, “Have a little crush on me, and wanted to see me again.”

Phil wasn’t exactly sure what reaction to expect from Dan, but it was definitely not what followed. Dan turned completely red in the face, his hands sweating profusely. There were a few seconds of painful silence before,

“Yeah cause I totally just made up a policy just so I could see you again, ‘cause I totally thought you were super cute when we met on Christmas Eve and just an overall lovely person and couldn’t NOT see you again.”

Phil opened his mouth to respond, but Dan wasn’t finished.

“And as if I’d rant to ‘Santa’,” Dan used unnecessary air quotes when he said this,  “about how ‘cute’ I thought you were, which led to him ‘convincing’ me to asking you ‘out’. Pffft, you know how stupid that sounds?”

“Um, what?”

For the first time, Phil saw Dan at a loss for words.

“Shit. I didn’t meant that. I don’t like you that way! If that’s, um what that made you think. I just tend to get a little carried away with my sarcasm sometimes.”

“Are you sure about that Dan?”

Dan looked at the ground, avoiding all eye contact with Phil.

“Yes…

“Because, if theoretically you did happen to have maybe even a tiny, little crush on me. I would theoretically tell you that I do in fact too, have a tiny, little crush on you too. And I wouldn’t mind taking you out, say, on a date sometime in the near future. This is all hypothetical though.”

“Okay I lied. I’m gay as shit for you.”

Phil grinned before tackling him into a hug.

“Me too, Dan. Me too.”

It was one hour later when Paul arrived back to the flat, groceries in both hands, only to find his roommate engaged in a heated makeout session with a Christmas elf. It was time to move out.