A/N (12.15.2018): 'Deck the Halls' is like one of two holiday songs that don't mention Christmas in it, which makes it all too perfect for inspiring the title. The fic itself was inspired by handere's post. The links to this post and many of the things I reference in this fic will be at the end.
Many, many thanks to jellybelly34, wishfulina, and bisexual-jonesy (on tumblr) for their help!
Gwen should have expected nothing else. She's known David for, what? Two years now? Of course he's the kind of person that goes all out for holiday decorating. He even plans on decorating for holidays he personally doesn't celebrate just so that anyone can feel welcome in his home. They haven't been dating long (just since the end of the summer), but she really has no excuse for not seeing this coming.
"Gwen, which of these dreidels would best match the tinsel we picked out earlier?"
And because David is super into it means she has to be, too, goddammit.
"Neither of those match the tinsel we picked out earlier," Gwen retorts.
They're at a local outdoor crafts market shopping for decorations. ("And we can decorate my apartment afterward! … It can be a date?" David suggested meekly on the phone earlier in the week. That warm, tingly feeling in your chest right now? That's exactly how Gwen felt.) David is holding two giant hanging dreidels in blue and gold and in red and silver. She had just helped him decide on forest green tinsel after a 19-minute-long deliberation period that she will never get back.
"Oh, but Gwen! Look at how nice these are; I can hang them from the ceiling! And there are no green ones." His excited grin turns into a frown as he regards the dreidels once again. His ears and the tip of his nose are pink from the cold, but she has first-hand knowledge of the warmth he is constantly emanating.
Gwen's hands are in her jacket pockets, and all of her weight is on her left foot. Her patience is wearing thin. If her jacket weren't so puffy, you can bet her arms would be crossed. "Then get new tinsel."
David's face visibly brightens before falling again, having thought of a new pressing issue: "Which combination of tinsel and dreidel will best match the mkeka?"
Gwen stares at him for long enough that her left eye starts to twitch, and David's face morphs from this-is-such-an-inconvenience-what-am-I going-to-do to my-amazing-but-sometimes-scary-girlfriend-is-going-to-be-more-scary-than-amazing-right-now.
"Nope! No more of this! I'm trying to be one of those supportive girlfriends that makes an effort to care about the things her boyfriend cares about, but David! It took us half an hour to find a 'versatile mkeka' even though Kwanzaa has an established colour scheme, and unless you follow it, not everything is going to match!"
As her rant draws to a close, David's face becomes conflicted. "But if nothing matches…" He trails off.
And then one of those rare moments of brilliance comes to Gwen. "Nothing is going to match."
"Well yes, if nothing matches, then nothing is going to match," David says carefully.
Gwen cuts him off quickly, "No! We'll just buy everything so that nothing matches; on purpose!"
David's eyes widen, as though Gwen had just suggested getting rid of Nature Walk Camp. (She would know what that looks like.)
"Nope, you can't argue with me on this one, David. It'll work out, you'll see. Come on, I'll show you. Mixing it up can be fun."
She walks him over to the nearest stall. "Okay, what here catches your eye?"
David, though obviously questioning her idea, goes along nevertheless. "Don't those rabbit ornaments kind of remind you of Harrison?" The ornaments honestly looked less like something one would hang on a tree and more like keychains—flat plastic decals of different coloured rabbits dangling from a curved hanging hook—but whatever.
"Excuse me," Gwen calls out to the stall vendor when she finishes up with another customer. "Can I have one of those rabbit ornaments please?"
"But Gwen," David interrupts, "Which colour are you getting?"
Gwen turns to the stall vendor, who is waiting for her answer. "One moment." She forcibly drags David away from the stall. "Okay next new rule: you can't help pick anything."
"What?"
"Yep, you over-analyse every purchase; and if I'm going to survive the day, I'm going to need you not to do that. Go look at that other stall while I buy this stupid ornament."
Gwen makes sure David actually walks away before making her way back to the rabbit ornament vendor. "Hi, sorry about that. I'll take a brown rabbit, please."
"Sure thing, hon. You an' your husban' decoratin' your home for the first time?"
Gwen's eyes widen at the insinuation. "Haha, no. David's not my husband, but we are decorating his apartment. I don't know why though; it's definitely not the first time, and he probably already has a ton of stuff for it."
"Ah," the vendor intones politely as they finish the transaction. "Well, have a nice day, sweetpea!"
They progress like that for a while. She'll catch up to David at a stall, he'll comment on all the things he can't decide on, and she'll shoo him away to buy whatever he looked at in a colour and level of sparkly that is underrepresented in their shopping bags. She thought it would be harder to keep David from having too much influence on the purchasing decisions, but his attention was easily drawn elsewhere: to the twinkling lights of the gigantic Christmas tree at the center of the market, to the sounds of holiday music from the band stationed beside the tree, to the children playing tag off to the side, to the next stall even.
"Oh, Gwen! This stall has molds of vibunzi! I was worried I was going to have to just buy some corn from the grocer's."
"I understood all of those words separately, but even then I'm not sure that's accurate."
It's a level of usefulness she isn't accustomed to; but if left to his own devices, David will spend the rest of the day here, which is not an option. Gwen can't leave on her own since she's unfamiliar with the area, and she left her car at David's. So really, she's doing this for efficiency's sake. She's not enjoying herself at all.
She reminds herself of this when she feels a tap on her back just as she finishes up a really ingenious purchase. She hides the bag behind her as she turns around to finds David holding out a travel cup of something that almost smells like hot chocolate.
"What's this?" she asks as she takes it from his hands, allowing her to feel the warmth of the cup and the cold of David's fingers at the same time. David is wearing one of those glove-mitten combinations, and the fuzzy mitten part is held back with a button.
"A hot chocolate-coffee combination from one of the food stalls. You looked like you would appreciate some caffeine."
David's other hand is holding his own travel cup of warmth. Knowing him, it's probably peppermint hot chocolate. His smile isn't the biggest she's ever seen it, but it's genuine and directed at her.
"I always appreciate some caffeine," she snarks before she takes a sip, both hands cradling the cup. It's not the scalding hot she's used to, but any warmth is welcome right now. They've been meandering the stalls in the market for hours, and she can feel it in her neck and toes. "Have you found anything else you like, yet?"
To her interest, David blushes. "Well…" he says as he takes a step closer. He tugs on one of her hands and starts to play with her fingers. "Nothing I'd have to buy, I hope."
Gwen marvels at him. His grin is equal parts sheepish and shit-eating. How does he do that?
She pulls her hand out of his grip and uses it to push his face away from her, laughing all the while. "David, cut the shit. We still have to go back and decorate your apartment, and I don't want to drive home when it's too dark."
He bounces back easily, as he always does. With an easy grin, he takes her hand and drags her to a food stall by the music and the tree. "Come on, let's get a snack before we head home."
After they buy their food, they situate themselves at a table that places them on the edge of earshot to the band. Gwen inconspicuously hides her most recent purchase in another bag. A female singer starts up a jazzy rendition to a Bing Crosby classic.
You can count on me...
"I also don't want you to drive home when it's too dark," David begins.
Gwen stares at him a little bit as she takes a sip of her drink. "I'm glad we're on the same page."
David's pinkness spreads to his cheeks, which is how she knows he's blushing and not just cold. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night."
Gwen is surprised, not that she shows it. "Should have seen this coming," she thinks to herself, as she has been doing all day. She takes a deliberate bite of her croissant to tamper down her emotions and give her a chance to default to her sarcastic veneer. "I wasn't aware you had a guest bedroom."
David's Adam's apple noticeably bobs. "Oh. Well, uh. Of course, you'd be more than welcome to sleep on my bed. I can take the couch, no problem… I can put out a sleeping bag in the living room! It'll be just like I'm camping." He's rambling, and they both know it. She smirks as takes pity on him.
"I'd love to stay over tonight, David. We can even sleep in the same bed… unless that goes against your northern sensibilities."
David's smile is all-encompassing now, and he takes the mockery in stride. "Not at all, Gwen!"
They finish up at the market, laden with two reusable shopping bags each (provided by David, of course). David leads them on the walk back to his apartment. Gwen remarks on how much she likes the neighbourhood, which launches David on a summary of the neighbours he sees in the morning. It surprises absolutely no one that David's cordiality is a hit on his block, and Gwen is glad to see that there are people in this world that find David's enthusiasm more endearing than incessant. It's just their luck that their camp is filled with people who don't, and she is aware that that list includes her.
As they talk, David moves so that his left hand holds both bags. This leaves his right hand free to gesticulate wildly as he tells a story about a girl at his job in the local daycare that reminds him so much of Ered. Gwen listens with mild interest and casually moves so her right hand holds both bags.
"And she just leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, and she said, 'This is totally bogus.' She said 'bogus' the way Ered says 'cool,' and then I just missed her so much, and now I just miss all of them!"
He sighs as he finishes. His hand, which was raised to tell his story, falls back down and holds her hand in one graceful movement.
She is stunned. Her eyes remain pointing forward, not that she is actually seeing anything despite how wide they have gotten. Besides her, David starts whistling, a tune she recalls from their poor (literally) attempt at Music Composition Camp.
This is her life now. She's holding hands with her boyfriend as they walk towards said boyfriend's house—carrying winter holiday decorations that they bought together, kind of—with plans to stay over for the night. Her eyes focus once again, and she lets herself enjoy this.
"So, have I told you about the boy that comes to my bookstore only to read the yaoi magazines?" she asks casually.
They get back to his apartment just as she finishes explaining how unnecessarily huge women's breasts are drawn in East Asian media.
"Wow, some people out there are really… self-serving," David remarks at the end of Gwen's mini-rant, which is probably the meanest thing she's ever heard him say.
"You're telling me," she responds as she follows his lead and takes her shoes off right by the door.
He shakes his squickness off quickly and turns their attention back to the real issues at hand. "Alright, Gwen! Make yourself comfortable. Oh! You can put the stuff on the dining room table! I'll get started on dinner."
As if he could hear her brain questioning why they were eating dinner so early, he adds, "Slow cooker recipe."
With extreme nonchalance, she drops the bags on the dining room table and walks around. David rummaging around his kitchen serves as background noise as she takes in the scent of pine and lemon permeating the apartment. Despite the small size and kind of dreary appearance otherwise, it's clear that David took great pains to bring the forest into his home. There are coasters made from tree knobs scattered on the coffee table in the living room and a large framed "Collection of Cool Leaves" (yep, that's the title within the picture frame) that he petrified hanging in the entranceway. She would later learn that it covers up a mysterious stain left by the previous resident that David can't seem to make go away.
His apartment is also filled to the brim with pictures. All the pictures match with their frames, and they're situated throughout the apartment so that no matter where the viewer turns, a picture will be visible.
Some of himself, but most of them are of other people. She recognises some campers they've had through the years; and she could only guess who of the adults were his family, friends, or other coworkers.
Gwen finds some pictures featuring her, and she gets nervous. These are all people close to David that he clearly loves. She needs a distraction from how freely he shows that he cares.
"David, I'm gonna go ahead and get this show on the road," she calls out as she turns back to the dining room table, intent on unpacking the wares she bought. There's a crash from the kitchen that she ignores in favour of dumping everything on the carpeted floor of David's living room. The "versatile" mkeka draws her attention first.
"Wait, you can't start without me! You don't know where everything is!" David exclaims.
"Join me after you're done making dinner then," Gwen shrugs despite knowing he can't see her.
David makes a strangled sound in his throat, clearly torn between whatever he's doing and running out to assist her. It's ridiculous how well she knows him by now. She makes sure to hide the extra purchase she made under a lumpy couch cushion and then heads into the kitchen to find him forearm-deep in the slow cooker. The off-white plastic countertop holds an array of spice containers, plucked from the revolving spice rack, and measuring utensils that she presumes used to be hanging underneath the old faux-wooden cabinets. The window faces the brick of the apartment next door, but the red is illuminated by the sun. It's setting but not obviously so.
Hearing her, he turns his head to her with his eyebrows raised and his bottom lip between his teeth. Gwen holds his shoulder and sweetly kisses him on his cheek. She pulls back just in time to see his face shift from worried to warm.
"Just trust me," she asks of him, her voice letting slip more emotion than she usually allows.
David gives a little sigh. "Most of the stuff you'll need are in a drawer in my desk, and string lights are in the hall closet," he relents. He bites his lip again and looks at her, so she pecks him on the lips this time before trying to find his bedroom.
All of the doors in the apartment have a themed framed picture on it. She safely presumes the one with a bathtub-shaped frame containing an old picture of an infant David playing in a bubble bath leads to the bathroom. She takes a picture of that with her phone; you never know when you need a bargaining chip with the Troublesome Trio.
His bedroom door is designated with his latest Camp Campbell staff portrait in a frame that looks like he made it out of sticks. Knowing David's penchant for DIY, he probably did.
She enters his room and tries not to get distracted by examining the contents of his room like a museum attendant. She is slightly successful.
As she rummages through the desk drawers, she takes note of the light blue walls that make the space feel more open than it is and how even though the room is kind of messy, he's still neater than she is.
Finding the hall closet is just as easy. Hanging on the door is a framed picture of David and one of his cousins doing silly poses on a display bed in Ikea or something. "Fucking loser," she thinks fondly. After getting the string lights and a half empty box of ornaments she found accompanying them, she's surprised David hasn't once mentioned a tree. The apartment certainly can't fit a typical Christmas tree, but he could at least own a small fake one, surely? Why else would he buy dumb-looking rabbit ornaments?
Back in the living room, Gwen places all the things that are definitely not Christian in one pile for David to assemble correctly. Unbidden, her mind flashes forward to a future where she effortlessly assembles the decorations for holidays she doesn't celebrate herself, and there's a figure in the corner of her vision. He's putting up decorations in a living room much nicer than the one in which she is currently, and she has a sneaking suspicion that she probably co-owns it as well. She shakes her head immediately. "Cool your jets, Gwen," she admonishes.
She decides to hang tinsel first and wounds it around some of the exposed piping in David's living room. "Easy to remove if he doesn't like it," she rationalises. She cuts some into small pieces and ties them into bows, which she rests on top of some of the hanging photo frames.
David comes bounding around the corner just as she decides to move on to the sticky window decorations and gets his feet tangled up in the admittedly messy pile of tinsel she left on the floor.
"I'm not even going to make the 'falling-for-me-already?' joke because you have been doing this since Day 1," Gwen throws over her shoulder as she turns to the windows facing the street. From the floor, David holds his head in his hands and crosses his ankles, looking like someone ready for the hot gossip. "If I say I didn't already fall for you on Day 1, I'd be lying in any case," he retorts.
Gwen snorts and rips open the packs of decorations. They could only find ones themed for Christmas, Hanukkah, and generic winter, to David's earlier disappointment. David smiles dopily behind her, knowing that only when she can't see is he safe enough to display how much he cares about her. While she pulls back the curtains and starts applying the decorations, he rummages through the bags of decorations on the floor, making small noises of appreciation at her finds.
His eyes widen at one particular package. "Gwen, what is this?!" David asks with delight. Gwen spares a glance behind her to find him holding the fake snow she got. "Oh yeah, that's some cool fake snow I found," she says to the window as she artfully arranges the decorations so that there are no obvious clusters of ones from the same pack. "If you look closely, all the individual pieces are shaped like flowers and trees and shit. I don't know, I thought of you when I saw it."
She decides to switch a blue snowflake with a gold Star of Bethlehem. She registers how silent it is behind her and feels David's arms wrap around her waist from behind before she can even turn around.
"... perfect," he mumbles, face pressed to where her neck and shoulders meet. His lips tickle the top of her spine.
"What's that?" she asks, her voice just as low. Her arms remain still, held out to the window from their earlier position of trying to switch some decorations around. She can't move, but David's hold on her isn't what's keeping her in place.
"It's perfect. You're perfect. This is going to be the most perfect winter season ever." He pulls his arms back enough for his hands to land on her hips and push against her gently. She twists in his embrace and finds herself nose to nose with someone she struggles to convince herself she deserves.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Please."
She doesn't even register dropping the decorations on the ground, but she knows the feeling of his hair in between her fingers, the feeling of his palms against the small of her back and drawing her ever closer, the sound of their sighs. The scent of pine and lemon is replaced with David's own scent, which always makes her laugh.
He giggles along with her. She still sometimes makes fun of how he always smells like some sort of flower plus detergent combination; but at this point, it's more of a game for them than anything.
"Lilac this time?" Her arms are wrapped around his neck; their chests are still pressed together.
"Rite Aid had a sale. Besides, it reminds me of camp." Their eyes are still closed from their kiss, and they giggle into each other's mouths.
Her eyes open just in time to see his eyes open. His smile gets imperceptibly wider, and she wonders how she ever thought she wasn't going to sleep over tonight.
A few hours later, and the apartment is looking exactly how she envisioned this smorgasbord decorating endeavour going. The dreidels hung from the ceiling in the dining area, and wreaths adorned almost every single door. Two pretty, but clashing, sets of candles adorned a menorah and a kinara, and snowmen centerpieces were situated liberally around the apartment in nests of garland and fake snow.
Gwen artfully used string lights and tinsel to make line drawings on some of the walls of his apartment, which was more difficult than one would anticipate due to the pre-existing photos he had hung up, but it added to the busy feeling. David properly set up the coffee table in his living room with the Kwanzaa decorations. The fruit broom was decorated with things his kids have given him, both from camp and from daycare.
"That's just a stick," Gwen had observed, but the question underneath was understood. "But Nikki was so proud when she used this stick to poke that wasp's nest as part of Max's escape plan that one time; I had to keep it!" David countered.
Throughout it all, Gwen could not help but notice the lack of a tree and uses for the ornaments. They take a break for dinner when the slow cooker beeped, and Gwen finally asks, "What's with the tree?"
"What tree?" he absentmindedly asks as he sets the table.
"Exactly. You have string lights, half a box of ornaments, and we just bought a bunch again today. What gives?"
David smacks himself on the forehead. "D'oh! How did I forget to tell you? Those are for the local homeless shelter!"
Gwen stares at him from across the table. "The local homeless shelter," she repeats deadpan.
"Yeah, they're going to start decorating in a couple of days. There's a group of us that volunteer regularly there, and we take turns bringing in some stuff for the holiday season. Adina usually gets stuck with the tree, though, because her family owns the tree farm."
Forcing past her confusion, Gwen continues, "But then why did you buy so many ornaments that meant something to you personally if you weren't going to hang them in your own home?"
David chews on that thought for a bit as he chews his meal. "Well, why not? They're great conversation starters, and it makes the homeless shelter feel less lonely."
David gives a cheery smile before beginning to eat in earnest, completely unaware of the warm, tingly sensation blooming in his girlfriend's chest. Of course David is a regular volunteer at the local homeless shelter, to the point where he spends his own money on decorations to make it feel like his own home even though he earns a temp's salary.
"I have to say, Gwen," he interrupts her thoughts, "you were right about this mixing-and-not-matching thing." She snorts as though it were obvious but secretly preens at his approval. "Is there anything you bought that we haven't used yet?" David continues.
Gwen can immediately think of one, but he's not supposed to know about that. Instead, she turns her head into the living room, where there is still a mess of plastic bags and containers to be cleaned up. She squints a little, as though that will help her see unused decorations more easily, "Uh… I'm gonna say… no?"
David laughs, and she gives him a sideways smirk in response. "Great! We can clean all that up in the morning; and if we find more stuff, we'll just decorate some more! It's a win-win." He smiles, satisfied with the plans he had just made for the next day.
"Or… you can give the rest of it to the homeless shelter and save me the trouble of doing this all over again tomorrow?" Gwen counters hopefully.
David pretends to consider this. "On one condition." Gwen raises her eyebrow in question. "You come with me," David says.
Gwen chokes a bit when her food goes down the wrong pipe, prompting an over-exaggerated worried response from David, which Gwen tries to wave off while still coughing. David attempts to hand her a glass of water, but Gwen's hands accidentally bat it away and soak David's front and the dining table. Gwen would roll her eyes at herself, but they're watering.
After she gets ahold of herself, with David watching on warily while he cleans up the spill, she finally responds, "David, you know I love you, but you have to understand why having me volunteer at a homeless shelter is a bad idea."
David stares at her wide-eyed and blushing. He stops cleaning and sits back down, back straight and hands limp at his side. "Actually, I don't."
"Okay, so I have to spell out for my boyfriend why his girlfriend who uses deprecating humour as a defense mechanism for her anxiety, which is partially triggered by new and uncomfortable situations, shouldn't be allowed around people that are sensitive to—"
"I don't know that you love me," David interrupted.
Gwen sputtered, "Wait, what!?"
"I mean, don't get me wrong: I love you, too… but I didn't know that you loved me," David finishes. His eyes turn down as he talks, his fork pushes his food around his plate, and his blush from earlier makes a lot more sense now.
Gwen stares at the pattern his fork makes as she runs through the past three minutes of conversation in her mind. She can't pretend she didn't say it because he already said it back, so why is she nervous about something she already did? Holy shit, David loves her. Holy shit, she loves him! She always imagined that the moment they confessed to each other would be a little more… monumental, like in the slash fiction she writes.
"Um, yeah, I'll go to the homeless shelter with you. What day did you say it was, again?" Gwen blatantly changes the subject.
"Next Tuesday," David replies, eyes still downcast. "Okay, I'll come back next Tuesday then," Gwen responds. There is only silence after that.
Definitely not how she imagined that milestone going.
She finishes eating before he does. She gets up to wash her dishes, and the sound of running water causes David to speak first. "Gwen! What are you doing? You're my guest; you shouldn't be doing your own dishes!"
Gwen's mind immediately flashes to a situation where she could do her own dishes because she wouldn't be his guest because she'd live here too, and that only serves to heighten how quickly she wants to leave this situation.
She lets go of the fork she was washing, and the clang of the metal hitting the ceramic plate sitting in the sink feels like a warning bell. "Fine, you can take this stuff. I'm gonna go… do something else," she says as she leaves the kitchen.
She briefly entertains cleaning up the mess in the living room and then more seriously considers leaving altogether. What was she thinking, accepting the offer to stay in his apartment? She doesn't even have a change of clothes for tomorrow. If she leaves now, it won't be too dark for most of the trip back home, and then she can freak out about her feelings for David in peace.
She doesn't realise that she's just standing in the entrance to the living room until David gingerly touches her shoulder. His fingers are cold and pruney from washing the dishes. "Did you want to take a shower before bed?" The wariness in his eyes and hesitance in his touch tells her that he knows how badly she wants to leave; his closeness and the gentle tone he uses tells her he hopes she doesn't anyway.
In this moment, she realises: she does love David, and this entire interaction is why. He understands her so well. He expects better from her, but he gives her the space to choose to be better. It makes her want to prove him right.
She finds it within her to ignore the fuck 'fight,' just 'flight' instinct she has and offers him a small smile. "Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks, David."
His shoulders loosen, and his smile shines at full wattage. "Great! I'll leave a towel and some pajamas for you in the bathroom. Go ahead and use my soap; you can't make fun of how I smell if you smell the same way."
"I can make fun of you for anything I want, beanpole. And make it two towels." He gives her a weird but amused look but doesn't say anything as he goes to get the proffered materials.
Gwen undresses in the bathroom and lumps her clothes on the edge of the sink before stepping into David's shower. She hears the door open and close a few moments later. The feeling of steam and smell of lilac relax her, and she thinks she's ready to actually face David now.
After her shower, she carries her clothes and towels with her into David's room. The lamp on his desk is on, providing some light now that the sun is gone but without casting the room in too harsh lighting. She tosses the towels into what she presumes is David's dirty laundry hamper and joins him where he's seated cross-legged on the bed against the wall. They're both facing into the room.
Her hair is still damp, but she leans her head on his shoulder anyway. He clearly doesn't mind because he begins playing with the ends of her hair. Sensing the unspoken question, Gwen says, "I use one towel to dry my hair and one to dry my body. If I'm only using one towel, and I dry my hair first, then the wet towel on my skin grosses me out. If I dry my body first, then towel drying my hair isn't as effective because the towel is damp."
David chuckles at her. "I can't say I have put that much thought into my towel usage, though I suppose I have less hair to dry." There's a beat of silence that makes Gwen think they won't actually talk about it, but David's always been the brave one between the two of them. "I was hoping that when we said 'I love you' for the first time, I would have been better prepared."
She lifts her head and turns to face him. "You didn't think you'd see it coming?"
David mirrors her. "Not like that. I was going to try to make the moment a little special. Candlelight maybe, but definitely a nicer dinner than something I made in a slow-cooker… A bouquet?"
"Cheesy, but I can't say I haven't thought of the same. I was thinking we'd go on a weekend trip someplace, and one of us would say it while we watched the sunset or something."
"Oh? Where would we go?"
She leans her head back against the wall and closes her eyes. "Maybe Vancouver. It's 'city' enough for me but close enough to some national parks that your urban anxiety wouldn't flare up."
David presses a kiss against her neck and leaves his head there. "That's very thoughtful of you, Gwen," he murmurs into her skin. The 'I love that. I love you.' is there but unspoken, which is fine by her; she's heard it enough today.
"C'mere," she says, and she manoeuvers them both under the covers. They curve into each other like parentheses. His head stays by her neck, and she can feel his eyelashes flutter against her skin.
Independently of each other, they are pleased to find that sharing a bed for the first time isn't as awkward as it could have been. He thinks it's because they're meant to be; she thinks it's because they already exhausted their awkward quota with the botched confessions of love earlier. In any case, it's nice to share their space with each other like this. She cards her fingers through his hair, sometimes scratching his scalp. His breathing eventually evens out, and she unknowingly matches her breaths with his until she can feel herself drifting off to…
Her eyes shoot open, and she launches herself out of bed. Her frantic movements result in a knee to David's groin and a smack to his face in short order. "What in the world—?" he cries out.
Gwen already left the room, but she pops her head back in. "Sorry! Sorry. I, uh… forgot to brush my teeth! Yeah, you know what they say: brushing your teeth before bedtime is the most important time of the day to brush your teeth! It's like the breakfast of tooth-brushing times. So, uh, I'm gonna go ahead and do that now. Go back to sleep. Yeah."
As soon as she can tell he's not going to get out of bed to look after her, she goes back to the living room and reaches under the couch cushions. She takes her purchase out of the plastic bag and thinks about all the trouble she's going to for this stupid piece of plastic that she really just bought on a whim.
She loops a piece of ribbon through it and tapes up the ribbon in the entrance to the kitchen so that it hangs down a little bit. Gwen puts her hands on her hips and admires it for a second before going back to bed. David has fallen back asleep, and she sees that he turned off the lamp they forgot about earlier. She resumes their previous cuddle position with a devious smile on her face.
"Sycamore… Beech… Walnut…"
Pale morning light shines through David's blinds, and he slowly rouses from sleep. He can feel Gwen's weight all along his right side, and he can smell the lilac for which she made fun of him before. He is instantly reminded of when they slow danced at the disastrous Summer Social, and his heart feels like it is expanding far beyond his untrimmed chest.
He leans his head back a little just to look at her. Her head is resting on his shoulder but tilted down, so he can only see the two-toned hair that he was always kind of curious about. He lightly runs his fingers up and down her spine. After a few moments, Gwen makes a soft mewling sound that tells him she's almost awake.
He tilts his head down to leave a kiss against her hair, and she rubs her cheek into his shoulder in response. "Good morning." His voice is low but not a whisper, and the rumbles in his chest are made noticeable by her hand resting on his sternum. She moves her hand down so that her fingers touch the skin at his hips exposed by his t-shirt.
David turns to her and shimmies down the bed a little so that they're face to face. He can see her eyes are still closed, so he rests his forehead against hers and closes his own eyes. His arms wrap around her as she shifts closer. Their noses touch, then their lips do. The kiss is lazy with sleep, but the warmth under the covers and distant sounds of birds chirping leave them both satisfied.
The silence of the moment makes the growling of Gwen's stomach twice as obnoxious. Her eyes open wide in morbid embarrassment before she turns in place to hide her face. He giggles, which makes Gwen struggle to extract herself from his hug. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up and leave me alone, oh my god."
He tightens his arms and tries to talk through his laughter. "Hey! Haha, hey, it's okay! I'll make us breakfast, okay? I'll leave and make us breakfast, and you'll get exactly what you want."
Gwen stops trying to push him away, but her head is still turned into the mattress, "... Yeah, okay."
"Do you want omelettes?"
"Anything is fine."
"Omelettes it is, then."
They both know his omelettes always turn out better than hers.
He tries to coordinate his lanky limbs to get out of bed, but just as he's hovering above Gwen to get on the other side, Gwen springs upright and smacks into him. Apropos of nothing. He barely registers the impact on his shoulders and tailbone as he hits the floor through his confusion. Gwen gets out of bed and hops over him. "Nope, I got it! You, uh, you cooked last night! Yeah, so I should cook now. It's only fair. Uh..."
From the floor, he lifts his head to stare at her quizzically. "You don't know where everything is," he argues, just like last night.
And just like last night, this doesn't deter her. "Join me after your morning affirmations, then!" she calls over her shoulder while she high tails it out of the room. David lays his head on the floor in contemplation.
Should he go out there and insist she let him make her breakfast? She seemed awfully excited to cook for him. That's nice of her.
But she has been acting kind of weird, and she's inadvertently attacked him twice now. She's amazing and sometimes scary. You know that.
Mind made up, he gets off the floor and turns to the mirror hanging on his closet door. He looks himself in the eyes and says three times, "I accept others as they are; in turn, they accept me as I am." Then he tries on his "hi, nice to meet you!" grin, subdued enough to be polite but genuine all the same. He holds for five more seconds, twisting his head this way and that to make sure that his smile is welcoming from all angles. He relaxes his face and repeats his next affirmation, "It is enough to have done my best as long as I try my best."
In the kitchen, Gwen can hear David go through his positivity rituals. She's reminded of the first year she was a counselor and how she used to roll her eyes as David's voice carried through the wall that separated their rooms. "Oh wait, that happened this past summer too…" she snickered to herself.
After finishing his morning routine, David goes out to check on Gwen's progress. Intellectually, he knows she's more than capable in the kitchen, but oh so many days of her pawning off breakfast duty on him has left him with less-than-complete trust in her cooking abilities. To his pleasant surprise, Gwen had a few omelettes already on a platter for them. From where he stands, he could see that some were a little more cooked than others were, and she definitely didn't include buttermilk in the mixture.
Watching her move around his kitchen—cursing to herself when an oil bubble would burst and hit her, opening up all his drawers in quick succession to find what she's looking for—he wishes he could have said that he loves her for the first time right now, in this moment, when the feeling wells up from within him and it's the only thought running through his mind.
There's nothing stopping him, though. "I love you."
Gwen's head whips up from where she's using the spatula to flip the edges of the omelette up a little to check how done it is. Her eyes widen, and he worries that he might have freaked her out again.
"New affirmation: I can recognise when to leave a good thing alone," David thinks to himself sardonically.
Before he can take it back, her face takes on a determined set. She turns off the stove and steps forward, leaving the half-cooked omelette behind.
David takes that as a good sign and meets her where she stopped. She smiles at him, and it's warm enough to melt his heart from the cold fear that had seized it so quickly. Then her smile turns kind of… wicked? His confusion increases when all she does is tilt her head slightly upwards, eyes focused on something above them.
He quirks his eyebrows at her, not wanting to say the wrong thing again but at a loss for how to react. Her eyes dart down to his level and return to the ceiling, beckoning him to do the same. He follows her eyes upward and sees some green pointy plastic hanging from the entrance to the kitchen. They kind of look like… leaves? He sees some red spheres amongst the green, and he realises Gwen has hung up—
Her arms wrap around his neck, and her hands bring his head into her kiss. Her mouth is already open, warm and yielding. He winds his arms around her waist then around her back, hands splaying out to touch as much of her as he can. She moans softly and moves her hands to cradle his jawline. Her hair tickles him when she turns her head to deepen the kiss, and she can feel his smile in response. She playfully licks at his teeth before pulling away.
His eyes are still closed, and he's still smiling, relishing in the company of the best person he has ever met. Her hands are still at his jaw, and her pinky finger flicking at his earlobe prompts him to open his eyes at her. He'll never get tired of being close enough to see the flecks of silver in her purple eyes.
"Happy winter season, David. I love you."
Oh my. He gets it now, and it firsts start as a disbelieving, sharp exhale of air. He tries to stop himself from letting it build from that, but that in itself makes it even funnier. Before he knows it, it's graduated to full blown laughter. Not even like a normal laugh, but a belly-deep, knee-slapping, bent-over-at-the-waist kind of laugh.
What the fuck?
"Um, what the fuck?" Gwen rears back, offense written all over her face, "Hey asshole, I kind of just told you 'I love you' for the first time on purpose, in case you missed that. And I kissed you under the mistletoe. It's all romantic and shit, you know, like we talked about last night!" Her voice gets gradually louder to force him to hear her above his guffaws.
He flicks his eyes up at the plastic leaves Gwen must have hung up last night or this morning, confirming his suspicion, and his laughter manages to double in force. "Mistletoe!?" he manages to squeak out. "That's clearly holly! Holly!" There are literal tears in his eyes, and it doesn't look like he's going to calm down anytime soon.
Neither is Gwen, for that matter. She sputters indignantly for a moment, face flushed from anger and embarrassment. "Shut the fuck up! What? No it's not!" She spins around, eyes wild and desperately searching for her phone so that she can look up a picture of mistletoe and show her shit-for-brains boyfriend what's for.
David's laughter settles down enough to tease her. "Someone obviously wasn't paying attention during Plant Identification Camp. It's a common misconception that the plant with red berries and spiky leaves is mistletoe, perpetuated mainly by ignorance in the advertising industry. Mistletoe actually has white—agh!"
David's hands do some weird spasm, torn between a pinwheel motion to try to regain his balance and holding onto his left cheek to ease the sharp pain that Gwen's backhand imparted.
Gwen didn't bother turning around to see the aftermath of her third yet purposeful assault in an eighteen-hour period. She stormed into David's bedroom and slammed the door behind her. "Fuck this stupid 'winter season' noise. This is what I get for trying to be impulsive and romantic… No, this is all David's fault for being too inept to shop for himself. Stupid idiot," she rants to herself.
Literally, this is exactly why she doesn't fucking do things. She knew she should have left last night, but her stupid boyfriend just had to look soooo understanding and adorable and in love with her. Where was that fucker this morning?! Ugh.
She changes in a rage (into David's clothes, of course; no way was she gonna wear her gross shit from yesterday) and fully intends on going home and pretending the last two days never happened.
She tears open David's door to see him leaning on the opposite wall with a patient smile on his face. Gwen rolls her eyes. "I'm outta here. Have a nice life," she says as she strides by him.
"Without breakfast?" he calls after her.
Like the fucking traitor it is, her stomach grumbles in response, so she abruptly changes course for the kitchen. She sees that the mistletoe—holly, she corrects in her brain mockingly—has been removed, and her blood boils. She swipes an omelette off the top of the pile she had cooked and has every intention of stalking out of the apartment when she looks out of the kitchen window and sees snow. Not just a light flurry, but really fat clumps of snow relentlessly falling down.
"Shit," she curses under her breath. She stuffs the entire omelette into her mouth and lets some of it hang out as she goes back into the living room to find her phone. Having found it under a pile of receipts, she opens up her weather app to see that it had been snowing for a while and probably won't stop for hours. There's no way she'll be able to drive home in those conditions!
She finds her portable charger in her purse and plugs it in. When she turns around, she finds David at the dining room table cutting into an omelette and a placemat set up for her already, complete with a glass of milk and a banana.
She says every combination of insult and curse word she can possibly think of as she stomps over to the table and plops down on the chair.
"This doesn't mean anything," Gwen warns.
"Of course it doesn't," David agrees with a patient smile. He's still wearing his pajamas, and his fluff of hair droops down like bangs on an emo rock star. He has no right to look as cute as he does right now, so she takes a threatening bite out of her banana to make a statement.
David looks warily on, which makes her feel better. He shakes it off before offering, "Want to help me clean up the living room after this? It'll give you an excuse not to look at me."
"Fine," and with that she gets up and leaves her dishes on the table. She knows he wouldn't allow the plates to just sit there, so she has some time until he joins her.
She eyes the glitter scattered around the carpet and solidly demarcates that as Not Her Problem in her mind, so she instead picks up the plastic packaging strewn about. After picking up a few, she finds herself at the other end of the living room. She straightens up and looks out the window to glare at the snow that is forcibly extending her stay in David's apartment.
She registers how silent it is behind her and feels David's arms wrap around her waist from behind before she can even turn around. Unlike before, this is not a pleasant surprise. She whips her head back to turn the glare onto him. He is not fazed, which worsens her glare.
"I'm sorry I laughed at you earlier, but it was a really funny mistake," David says with mirth in his eyes. Gwen struggles out of his grip, but he holds firm. "I love it, though. It's so you," he continues.
Gwen crosses her arms and looks down. "You could have fooled me," she grumbles.
David holds her chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilts her face up to meet his eyes. His countenance is serious, but his eyes remain happy. The green of his irises seem to shine on their own, but she knows that's just her oft-ignored romantic side talking.
"If I have anything to say about it, this won't be the first winter season we spend together," David says. "Holly can be, like, a new tradition of ours."
Unbidden, that same vision from before comes up. They're decorating a living room, but they are joined by a little girl with David's eyes and Gwen's hair, laughing as David lifts her up so that she can place a tinsel ribbon on a picture frame of the three of them.
"I look forward to creating many more traditions with you," David's voice breaks her out of her reverie.
Well, fuck. How was she supposed to stay mad at him when he says shit like that? There's only one thing running through her mind now, so it's the only thing she says in response.
"I love you."
David beams at her, looking relieved and elated at once, a little bit like how she imagined he would. He grabs her shoulders, moves them a few centimetres closer to the window, glances up, and kisses her for all she's worth.
With the way he's holding her and moving his lips, she could be convinced she was made of gold.
After they part, she looks up to see that David didn't just take down the holly, he put it up by the window. Whatever remnants of her fury from earlier are doused by the sight.
David turns his head to look out the window. "I'm sorry that the snow is forcing you to stay here for an extra few hours. I know how badly you want to go home."
Gwen turns to follow his line of sight, and his arm goes naturally around her waist as she lays her head on his shoulder.
"It's alright; the snow's kinda pretty."
There is a comfortable silence after that. As they look out past the sticky decorations Gwen had put up just yesterday, she can't help but feel like she didn't have to travel very far to go home.
Huh, everything turned out alright after all. Definitely not something she saw coming.
handere's post: handere dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 168917048203
giant hanging dreidels: ep dot yimg dot com slash ay slash yhst-57666778344032 slash dreidel-honeycomb-decorations-3 dot jpg
infant David playing in a bubble bath: pic dot qbaobei dot com slash Uploads slash Picture slash 2016-08-25 slash 57bec1f838458 dot jpg
frame that looks like he made it out of sticks: craft dot ideas2live4 dot com slash 2017 slash 02 slash 13 slash twig-frame
"Mistletoe?" he manages to squeak out. "That's clearly holly. Holly!": youtube dot com slash watch?v=2W81tZlTLys
Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated. Happy holidays!