A/N: My secret Santa Clique fic, for the lovely Dernier Cri, whose drabbles got me into the Massie/Chris pairing. I kind of Massie a bit of slut in this, though. Oh well.
"What do you want for Christmas?" Massie asked, running her hands through his highlight free hair.
"Red silk boxers."
Massie fell silent, her hands now folded in her lap like a saint. Yeah, sinner was more like it. Innocence was not Massie's middle name and the smirk on her face made it clear that she was well aware of this. He leaned in to kiss her; she turned away.
"Hey," he said softly, cupping her chin in his hands, "Don't be like that."
Massie raised her eyebrow in a skeptical way, as if to say, "What are you talking about?"
"You know what I mean." He grinned and reached out to touch a few stray curls that had escaped from Massie's updo.
Tonight was some Christmas charity benefit being held in the Rivera's ridiculously huge foyer and Massie was dressed to the nines, as usual. Of course, he didn't notice Massie's brand new Dior dress or her latest Gossip Girl flavor- Cherry Pie. Instead, he noticed tiny things- the way she laughed or how she kept a small picture of her horse, Brownie, in her wallet.
He had "kidnapped" her from her group of friends and brought her here, a small unoccupied corner behind the corkscrew shaped staircase.
Massie giggled and slapped his hand away. "You'll ruin my hair," she said, pouting, the spitting image of Abby Boyd- back when she was a brunette.
The sound of laughter interrupted them; Massie rolled her eyes. It was probably one of the little kids that had been running on the marble floors, hyped up on sweets and the virgin sangria. She ignored the little brat and gazed at her French manicure like it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.
He turned around and looked up at the black iron staircase, plucking a small object from Todd Lyons' fist.
"Look," he said, holding the small leaf in the palm of his hand, "mistletoe. You know what that means."
Massie felt her whole body go stiff, her palms were clammy. Her already glossy lips screamed for more Glossip Girl; anything to keep her from having to deal with this, right now. Was he really suggesting…..? Didn't he know that she'd only ever kissed one guy? Didn't he realize that they were in public, where everyone could see them?
He placed his hand on top of hers, startled, she pulled away. He twisted his ah-dorable features into a faux pout and placed his hand over his heart like a scorned woman in a Shakespeare play.
Sure enough, he launched into flowery speech, "That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she….The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars." Massie giggled and pushed him away.
"What?"
"You're embarrassing me," she hissed, "don't you realize that everyone is staring?"
"There's only one way you can get me to stop." He grinned and dangled the mistletoe in front of her amber eyes, growing darker with suppressed anger.
"Fine," she spat, looking him straight in the eye. His green eyes sparkled with fun and Massie gave him a quick peck on the lips, the arches of her feet tingling.
"Aw, come on. You and I both know you can do better than that."
He winked and Massie didn't know whether or not to be disgusted or delighted. Although she would never admit it, she certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity to kiss him again.
"Fine, watch me," she snapped with more venom than she had intended.
He leaned back against the iron staircase, his arms crossed over his chest nonchalantly. Massie's heart pounded but pride kept her from fleeing to bathroom. Instead, she leaned in, each half inch agonizing, yet there was an excitement building in her chest, much like the adrenaline she felt when riding roller coasters at Six Flags. Her lips lightly brushed against his, there was fleeting awkwardness- where should she put her hands? Did they look stupid staying at her sides? - But it quickly disappeared. For once, Massie wasn't weighed down with thoughts, doubts or worries. She simply enjoyed the foreign sensation of his tongue making its way past her teeth. All too soon, it was over and Massie pulled away, her lip gloss smudged and pieces of rich chestnut colored hair framing her face in small wisps.
"Abeley," the voice was practically a deep growl, in an attempt to suppress anger.
Massie turned to face her ex; the hurt in his brown eyes was painfully obvious. A small part of Massie's heart ached with sympathy, a sensation she crushed in a split second.
"Come on, Chris," she said, holding her hand out for him, "Let's go check out the buffet table."
Derek watched as the two of them walked away, hand in hand.