#possessed to write abt friendsmas. once again our recent prompts just connecting by accident

[lifesver]

@fcused said: “i got us matching ugly christmas sweaters.” :)

❝ con, hey! ❞ leland beams as he clambers through the door and out of the cold — shaking dampness out of his hair. despite the bags on his arms, he’s quick to gather connie up in a hug, while sonny squeezes by him holding the rest. maria’s apartment smells like gingerbread and pine, and is done up in bows and tinsel he’d helped with the day before. a christmas party, the girls had insisted — before they split off to their families for the holidays.

❝ sorry. i know we’re late — totally my fault. sonny bought a pie and everything, ❞ leland feigns his utmost apologetic look, as he shoulders off his jacket; ❝ — but, we lost it on the dangerous journey. ❞ he dropped it. he absolutely dropped it during their walk across a rainy campus, as sonny had stared at him in pensive disbelief, and the quietest ‘come on, man’ ever. sonny kicks off his shoes on the welcome mat, shoots him another mildly tired what do you mean ‘we’ look. leland half-pouts at him, trying to get him to play along with his stupid bit anyway; ❝ unforeseen tragedy, right williams? ❞

sonny rolls his eyes, fondly, shouldering by him gently; ‘yeah, we nearly didn’t make it.'

leland beams at him. and now he can hear a mild clamour in the other room, julie’s animated voice; ‘are they here?’ and then, louder, so they can definitely hear; ‘gee-eez, finally!’ soft accompanying laughter from maria. leland briefly pokes his head around the doorway, and the girls wave them in from where they perch on the couch. maria wore a very-maria reindeer headband adorned in poinsettias. julie had meticulously braided shiny red-silver tinsel into her hair. danny raises his drink in a humorously sober fashion — despite the crooked santa hat on his head. no doubt placed against his will.

'hey,' connie says, drawing his attention from over his shoulder, again. 'i got us matching ugly christmas sweaters'. the agreed-upon matching sweaters, of course.

leland gives a low whistle, examining the gaudy red-green sweater connie is holding out to him. thankful, now, that he'd left the party-attire responsibility firmly in her hands. hers, already equipped, depicts a cat with the words ‘santa claws’, while the one she offers him features a pug, also in a santa hat, and the words ‘santa paws’. he can’t help but be unexpectedly endeared, by this blatant show of kitsch, from connie taylor, of all people. leland pulls the sweater over his head, voice momentarily muffled in the wool; ❝ — these are awful. i love them. ❞ a crooked grin, and hair is thoroughly ruffled when he pops his head out of the neck of the sweater. connie’s eyes warm, amused, as she leans up to put a few wayward strands back in place for him.

he's of course, nothing but dumb puppy-dog hesitation under her cool gaze. ( — never quite sure where was okay to step, with their friends so close by. ) he waits a beat, and he opens his mouth to say something — just in time for julie and maria to skirt by them to help sonny with the gift bags. feeling julie’s all-knowing eyes on the back of his head, leland quickly eases back into casual, and connie lowers her hand to her side. he clears his throat awkwardly; ❝ … this is uh... cool. i’ve never done like… friends christmas, before. ❞ which is true. and somewhat sheepish in admission — that he was just thrilled to be invited —

julie takes him out of his thoughts, bumping his shoulder playfully; 'heard you lost the baked goods, mckinney.' leland blinks, whirls to pout after her — but the girls have already abandoned him halfway down the hall; ❝ — unforeseen tragedy, jules, i swear — ❞