Author's Note: I know my writing for the Sciam fandom has been on and off over the past years. I also know my contributions are experimental, and whereas some of my stories are better than others, being able to experiment in this space has been an amazing (and valuable) experience. So, in the holiday spirit, I decided to write a Christmas Sciam Special, something I have never done before. This is my thank you to everyone who has read my stories; who has stuck by through the enormous time gaps between updates, who has voiced their appreciation of my writing, and who has fuelled my inspiration by submitting prompts. I'm aware this fandom is very small compared to other fandoms, but I do feel deeply connected to it, mainly because of how lovely you all are. So, this one is dedicated to you, dear reader. I'll be posting it over the Christmas weekend, starting on Friday 23 December, linear to the narrative time in the story. So watch this space, because it's happening!

P.S. Don't worry, the story is finished. I won't flake out on you. :P


Friday

Liam didn't like Christmas. He didn't like buying pr esents for his parents. He didn't like being obligated to spend time with his family. To him, it was all too much of a hassle. Too forced.

Even now, on his way to spending a Christmas-related weekend with his friends, he felt stressed.

Lydia had come up with the idea at the start of December. Her family's lake house was empty over winter, so it would be the perfect opportunity for them to spend time together. Of course it was Christmas themed – Lydia loved Christmas – and of course there had to be a special twist to it – Lydia loved special twists.

So, over the span of Friday to Monday, they would all get to host an activity, something big or something small, to do with the gang. The only condition was that it had to be related to their own Christmas traditions. Everyone had been excited at the idea; Stiles, Kira, Malia, even Mason. And obviously Scott. Liam doubted the guy would give up on any opportunity to spend time with his friends, because that was Scott, always sympathetic, caring, and loving.

Which brought Liam to the second dilemma of this Christmas getaway (more like, get him away): spending four full days and three full nights with Scott. Not with with Scott – although that idea did appeal to him (God, why?!) – but continuously near Scott. Not that he disliked Scott (if only, it would make this whole ordeal about forty times easier), quite the opposite in fact.

Liam liked Scott.

And, you know what? Sitting in Stiles' jeep, pretending to stare out the window but actually occasionally glancing at his object of interest, he had to admit, how could he not? Scott was great. He was considerate, good looking, gentle, trusting, dorky, and friendly. There was no way in hell anyone could not like him. Well, you could, you could despise him for having all these wonderful traits, these wonderful friends, and this wonderful personality. You could despise him for being 'too perfect'.

Liam knew. After all, he had tried. God, he had tried so hard not to like Scott. He had been cocky during their first lacrosse practices (he still remembers his and Stiles' gob-smacked look when he told them he was "just that good"), he had been distant when their friendship had started (a.k.a. occasionally snapping and telling him to get lost), and he had tried very hard not to be alone with him in the same room (which proved incredibly difficult when he came home one day after having received another bad mark in History to find Scott at his kitchen table, bearing chocolates, of course). But it hadn't made any difference, because even when you thought Scott was too perfect, he would suddenly come out and tell you about all the terrible flaws he had (midnight snacking, worrying too much, stealing Stiles' Star Wars DVDs so they didn't have to watch them anymore – as if those were flaws), you still couldn't dislike someone who was perfectly likeable. Frustrating as that was. So, to keep himself in check, Liam been trying out a new strategy to keep his feelings from developing, which included quietly calling Scott names, hoping that he wouldn't hear.

"Dick."

"What, bro?" Mason asked, turning towards him in the backseat.

Shit. Abort. Abort. Different tactic. Different tactic.

"Oh, err…" he stammered. "Sick. I feel a little sick. You know, from the long car ride."

"Don't worry. We're almost there," Scott said, twisting his neck in an awkward position so he could smile at him.

Liam's heart sank a little.

See? Case in point.

Yet, the most interesting (he didn't know if it was good or bad) aspect about liking Scott was that he had no clue how Scott felt about him. Have you ever liked someone who's nice? It's terrible! They give you hugs, tell you you're their friend, and show how grateful they are about having you in their life, leaving you completely clueless. How was Liam supposed to know if any of those things indicated toward a feeling rooted more deeply, if Scott did all of those things to everyone around him? It made Liam feel like he was being cheated on, except for it wasn't cheating, because Scott probably had no idea! He made him… He made him feel like a toy. Yes, that's what it was. Scott was toying with him.

Wait, had he just found one of Scott McCall's flaws?

But in all fairness, Liam had to admit liking Scott wasn't the worst thing on Earth, because that was all it was – a liking. He was sure that if he could keep it from developing into anything more, he wouldn't have a problem. They wouldn't have a problem.

So, yes, you can see how it was all very stressful. Liam had to pretend to like Christmas and pretend to not like Scott. If he could swap the two around, everything would be perfect.

"The forecast said it's likely to snow tomorrow," Mason mentioned, breaking through the silence in the jeep.

"That'd be nice," Scott replied. Liam saw him throwing a sneaky grin at Stiles. Those two were up to something, he knew, quickly suppressing the cheated-on feeling that instantly bubbled up within him. "We can have a white Christmas," Scott added.

Mason scoffed. "Already having one anyway."

Scott looked at him, not understanding, but Liam snickered behind the palm of his hand.

"As long as it doesn't snow tonight," Stiles said.

"Why not tonight?" Liam asked.

Stiles grinned. "Because it would disrupt how I want to celebrate."

"Well it's definitely something outside then," Mason mentioned.

Stiles remained quiet.

On the right hand side of the car, the lake suddenly appeared from behind the trees. It was frozen over. Apparently it had been one of the coldest winters so far, so Liam wasn't surprised. Still, it was a magnificent sight. Normally the water would break up the sunlight in a hundred shimmers, but now its ice was lying upon the surface like a mirror, reflecting the light. Pure and wholesome.

Maybe that was what Liam ought to do: throw up a wall of ice around his heart. Freeze Scott out. With the constant reminder of it being winter that shouldn't be too hard. Yes, that's what he was going to do. He was going to freeze his heart. No feelings. No dislike towards Christmas, no liking towards Scott. Swapping them. Problem solved.

They arrived at the Martin's lake house a few minutes later. It was mostly made of brick, but had wooden framing around the side, making it look very rustic. Branches cracked under the wheels of Stiles' jeep as he parked next to Lydia's car. She, Kira, and Malia had arrived a little before them to already start setting up.

The boys pulled their duffle bags out of the back – Stiles made sure no one could peek at the stuff that had been hidden under multiple blankets – and made their way over to the front door, which was open.

"Happy Christmas!" Lydia shrieked when the four of them stepped in, running up and pulling each into a deep hug. "Right. First things first. Let me show you to your rooms." Her voice was cheery. "Malia and Kira are just putting their stuff away in ours. After you have settled in, please dress in your most comfortable attire."

"Does that mean naked?" Stiles whispered to Scott.

"I'll hurt you." Lydia smiled warningly. "You're not messing this weekend up for me."

The staircase was at the back of the living room, bending to the left halfway. Liam, Mason, Scott, and Stiles followed her up.

"Scott and Stiles, this is yours," her voice trailed off as she opened the door. "The bathroom is over there," she smiled, pointing at the end of the hallway. "Oh, and don't forget to put all of your Christmas presents in the spare room downstairs." The boys smiled and stepped into their room. Liam and Mason followed her one door down.

"And, this one is for you two."

"Thanks for asking us to come along, Lyds," Mason said as he threw his bag on the left bed.

"Well of course! You guys are part of the gang," Lydia replied.

Liam sat down on his bed, on the other side of the room.

"She's so sweet," Mason said when Lydia had closed the door behind her.

Liam hummed.

"Thinking about Scott?"

Liam gave him a look. "Can we not?"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I don't even want to think about it."

"I think it's great that you like him. He's a great guy."

Liam turned towards his bag, so Mason couldn't see him roll his eyes. "I know. Scott's perfect," he grumbled.

Mason sat down beside him. "Why are you still so sour about this?"

"Because, Mase, I don't want to freak myself out. This weekend is stressful enough as it is," Liam answered.

"Dude, I told you already, don't worry so much. Everyone's going to love your tradition."

"No, it's lame and not special at all."

"Well, that doesn't mean it won't be fun," Mason offered.

Liam sighed. He pulled out his pyjama bottoms and a sweater. "We'll see."

After putting their stuff away, they went back downstairs with their presents. There were two sofas and a big armchair in the middle of the room. Lydia had taken all the pillows from them and put them on the floor. They centred in front of the fireplace, where a TV had been screwed against the wall above. Lydia, Malia, and Kira were already waiting. Liam and Mason walked past the big dining table, which could fit ten people, where all sorts of – what seemed to be – crafting materials had been splayed out.

Liam hugged both Malia and Kira, and he and Mason each put their presents in the other room. When they came back, the five of them made conversation as they waited for the last two boys to come down. They were all wearing pyjamas and other soft clothes. Liam grew curious as to what Lydia had planned.

"Finally," Malia said when Scott and Stiles descended.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold your horses," Stiles replied. "We have four days to spend together. No need to rush."

They sat down in the circle, Scott dropping himself next to Liam. Their knees touched, sending a bolt of electricity up Liam's spine. He moved slightly to the side.

"Right, now that you're all here," Lydia said, standing in front of them. "I'd like to officially welcome you all to the Martin lake house. Please don't break anything. As you know, the weekend will be filled with things we each like to do in terms of celebrating Christmas. Everyone has to participate in each and no whining."

Liam's stomach tightened when Lydia reminded him. Surely, everyone would have come up with all this cute or special stuff and there he'd be with his stupid tradition.

"I think she added the last part," Stiles whispered.

"Let her speak," Malia barked.

Lydia sighed, composing herself. "I'm going first," she announced, and stepped off the cushions, rummaging behind the armchair.

She pulled out a bag, walked back, and emptied the contents in front of the group.

"Oh, you have got to be-"

"Stiles, no whining!" Lydia reminded him.

"I want this one!" Mason exclaimed, picking up one of the packets.

Liam, still confused as to what was going on, peeked over Mason's shoulder.

"We're having facials and we're decorating the house with our own Christmas decorations!" Lydia shrieked, dropping to her knees, beaming at the others.

Kira clapped her hands together excitedly.

Liam glared at the packets. A face mask? Really? He didn't know how to feel about that.

"Malia, you're getting a black tea mask, to smoothen out your lines, because, you know, you frown a lot," Lydia said, putting the packet in front of her. "Stiles, you've got lemon, because it matches your sour attitude…"

Stiles pulled a face.

"…Mason, you've got the moisturizing one. Liam, you'll have the same. Hmm. Oh! Scott, here's a honey one, 'cause you're sweet."

Liam's stomach fluttered at the dopey smile that spread across Scott's lips.

"Kira will have aloe vera, and I'll have the one with the coconut oil. It's my favorite," Lydia continued. "Right, so, we need to put the masks on, leave them for fifteen minutes, take them off, tone our skin, and then I have some nice cream you can put on that smells like roses."

Liam took the packet in his hands and stared at it. Next to him, Kira had crawled over and was helping Mason apply the cream to his face. He watched them awkwardly.

"This is so girly," Stiles said.

"Skincare is not girly," Lydia argued. "It's society that makes you think that."

But even though Lydia's statement was probably true, Liam had to agree with Stiles. This felt weird. He had never seen any of these things in action in real life, only in the silly, way over the top American chick-flicks that Mason liked to watch every once in a while.

"Come on, Liam, put it on!" Lydia encouraged him.

Liam's head shot up, ears warming. He didn't want to be like Stiles and start complaining already. After all, Lydia had said they couldn't complain about each other's ideas, which may come in helpful when Liam had to perform his.

"I-I, err…" he stammered. "I don't really know how."

"Come here, I'll apply yours," Scott offered.

Liam's stomach jumped. He really didn't want Scott to do it for him, but there was no way he could back out without sounding offensive or weird about it. So, he turned around, but only to burst out in laughter when he saw Scott's face.

It was bright orange. Not a nice pastel orange, no, literally a bright-as-the-sun orange. Liam clamped his hand in front of his mouth.

"What?!" Scott asked.

Liam shook his head, chuckling. He forced his mouth back to normal and answered, "No, nothing."

Scott grinned at him, playfully. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

Liam nodded, covering his mouth again. "Yeah, you do."

Scott scooted closer, ripping open Liam's packet. "Alright, come on, funny man, give me something to laugh at."

Liam had briefly forgotten about his plan to act cool, but was now noticing his rapidly beating heart. Scott's fingers dipped in the cream – his was pink (typical) – and approached Liam's face.

"Close your eyes," Scott said quietly.

Hearing those words come out of Scott's mouth caused a reaction inside of Liam. He swallowed it down and did as he was told. The tips of Scott's middle and index finger touched his cheek. Liam winced.

"Sorry, should have mentioned my hands are cold," he apologized.

"It's fine," Liam replied in a husky voice.

Scott's fingers roamed across Liam's face. His touch was gentle, as if he could hurt Liam at any given moment. His fingers trailed over his forehead, down his temple, across his cheek, and then stroked his thumb across the middle of his chin. Liam's throat was dry. His heart was going to burst out of his ribcage and he noticed that he was holding his breath.

"All done," Scott said softly.

Liam opened his eyes. The moment Scott's fingers left his skin his lungs filled with air.

"You look very pretty," Scott said.

"Well at least I don't look orange," Liam fired back, sounding a bit more forceful than he had intended to.

But Scott continued to smile nonetheless.

"Dude, don't you love facials?" Mason asked behind him.

Liam huffed, but he had to admit it actually felt quite nice. Funny, but nice. Or maybe that was just because Scott had been the one to put it on.

"Is anyone else's burning?" Stiles asked.

"Oh, that just means it's working," Lydia answered.

Stiles carefully touched his face. "Really? Cause it burns quite a lot."

Kira picked up his empty package. "Yours heats up," she said matter-of-factly.

"It what?"

"It's okay. If your face actually burns off it will only be an improvement," Malia teased.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Stiles is ugly."

The others snickered.

When everyone's mask was on, they all moved to the dining table. Lydia explained all the things that they could do to decorate the house: write Christmas cards, cut paper snowflakes, or put up lights. Liam grabbed one of the white papers and started cutting. Soon, the room was chatty and filled with laughter. Especially when they rinsed off their masks one by one and Lydia toned their skin.

"My face feels so soft," Scott said, rubbing his cheeks.

Liam watched him from across the table, nearly dying from cuteness. His fingers were tingling and Scott was such an idiot but he wanted to rub his face. The smell of roses filled his nostrils.

Freezing his heart was going to be more difficult than he thought. But he had to. If he didn't this weekend would turn into an outright disaster, because allowing himself to like Scott meant allowing himself to hate Christmas as well, and if they would find out he hated Christmas, he would probably have to find a new group of friends – or at least a new Lydia.

Liam stretched his legs, accidentally bumping into Scott's socked feet. He quickly retracted them.

"Sorry," Liam muttered.

Scott smiled.

Then their attention was dragged by Lydia, who came into living room with a tray holding seven mugs. "Mulled cider, anyone?" she asked. "Don't worry, I boiled it so the alcohol has evaporated."

"Aren't you fun," Malia commented, taking one of the mugs.

Lydia gave her a surprised look. "Well, Liam and Mason are here. They're young."

"Only by a year," Liam reminded her.

"Yeah, and do you really think we've never drank before?" Mason added.

Lydia placed her hands on her hips. "Do you want some or not?"

The boys quickly nodded. Liam took the cup from her hands. The steam that came off was filled with smells of cinnamon and caramelized apples. He inhaled again.

"Do you want to help me put up the lights after you've finished that?" Scott asked him.

Liam froze. He looked to the side before catching Scott's eye again. "I think I'm just going to cut out more snowflakes."

"Oh," Scott said. "Okay. Yeah, sure."

"I'll help," Stiles prompted.

The two of them got up and Liam focused on his cutting, pretending that he didn't notice Mason staring at him with a disappointed look.

Mason could judge him all he wanted. Of course he was supportive of him liking Scott – he would be supportive of anyone, really – because he was his best friend. But that didn't mean Mason knew what was right. Just because he was in a relationship with Corey and everything had been all rainbows and sunshine in their run-up there, didn't mean it was always going to be that way. Liam was sure Scott didn't look at him the same way as Corey did at Mason. They were friends. Just friends.

"Whose event is up next?" Kira asked.

"I think it's Stiles'," Malia answered. "God knows what he has planned."

"Probably something that involves partial nudity," Mason commented.

The others laughed.

Liam shifted on his chair. "So…what have you guys got planned?" Maybe he could calm his nerves a little if he knew the others' ideas.

"You'll find out tomorrow," Kira said in a mysterious tone.

Malia nodded. "Yup, same goes for me."

Liam's cheeks filled with air.

"Yeah, and you already know mine, dude."

"Wait you have talked about what you're going to do?!" Lydia interrupted. "That wasn't part of the game!"

"Oh, come on, Lydia. You and Malia know what I'm going to do as well. I had to tell you," Kira reminded her.

Lydia shrugged lightly. Kira raised her eyebrows at her, causing Lydia to admit defeat. "Fine. But no one else can tell me theirs, because I want to be surprised. That's what Christmas is all about: surprises. And spending time with the people you love, of course."

"So do you always do this with your mom?" Liam asked.

"Every single year," Lydia answered, smiling as she continued to draw her card. "My mom wakes me up on Christmas morning. We have breakfast in bed, put on our masks, and we each make our own personalised ornament for the tree. Then we put them on and open our presents."

"But if she does it every year, it isn't much of a surprise anymore," Liam noted.

Lydia's smile grew. "And yet every year, I'm surprised."

Malia groaned. "Ugh, that's actually really sweet."

Lydia clicked her tongue, holding up her Christmas card. "I know."

Maybe that's why Liam didn't like Christmas. He wasn't particularly fond of spending time with his family (his mom had declared that as a symptom of being a teenager – probably true), but it wasn't like his parents weren't nice or something. He just didn't have much to say to them. They would ask stuff – they asked stuff all the time – but he never felt like sharing anything with them. What would they say if he told them he was crushing on his friend? They would probably tell him not to make a big deal out of it and just tell Scott, like Mason, and then go off on a rant about the digital age, how everything is so much less romantic and dull. That when you met someone you liked in their age you asked them out on a date, because it wasn't like you could add them on Facebook and keep in contact there.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Scott and Stiles came back in fifteen minutes later, triumph clear on their faces. They had finished putting up the lights and wanted everyone to come outside and look.

They had covered the outlines of the porch, which bent around the left side of the house, overlooking the lake. Dusk had fallen and even with little natural light there, it all looked pretty festive.

"Now we just need to hang up our own decorations inside and voila," Lydia said, smiling up at the cottage.

But dinner also needed to be catered for, so the girls decided to start cooking (there was pasta on the menu; "not very festive", Lydia had said, "but it would do") while the boys taped the snowflakes in front of the windows and stringed the Christmas cards in a line, which ran diagonally across the living room.

Liam was taping the last of his snowflakes when Mason appeared behind him.

"Dude, why did you blow off Scott earlier?" he asked.

"Shush." Liam quickly looked around. "What if anybody hears?"

"Scott and Stiles are outside," Mason informed him. "Preparing Stiles' event or something. Anyway, why?"

Liam shrugged, turning back to his snowflakes. "I didn't feel like putting up lights."

"And you don't want to be alone with him," Mason added matter-of-factly. "Look, it's your decision not to do anything about your feelings for Scott, but did you see the look on his face?"

Liam frowned. "No…"

"No, because you were being too selfish," Mason said. "Do whatever you want, but don't be a dick about it, okay? If you don't want to tell Scott you like him then you can at least try to be friends, and friends help each other out, even when it's something silly as putting up Christmas lights."

Liam's face fell. He didn't know what to say to that, so after a couple of seconds of silence, Mason went to the kitchen to check on the girls. Once alone again, Liam sighed. He had only been here for, what? Five hours? And already this weekend was turning into an outright disaster. Throwing up his wall of ice shouldn't affect his friendship with other people, just with Scott. He didn't think Mason would get mad at him for it. If this continued, he would probably be left without any friends on Monday. Then again, if he told Scott about his feelings and Scott rejected him, surely the same thing would happen. No way seemed to be the right way. He felt trapped. Trapped in the confines of a warm, cosy household that was decorated festively and inhabited by people who he liked. How did this happen?

They had dinner a while later. Liam was quiet the whole way through, but no one seemed to notice. Except for Mason, obviously, who rolled his eyes at him a couple of times. It hurt, and a couple of times Liam tried to participate in the conversation that was ongoing, but every time his brain went foggy and didn't know what to say. Even when they tried to playfully pull out of him what his event was going to be, all he uttered was a mere, "You will see."

That was it. Three words over the space of an hour.

Since the girls had cooked dinner, it was democratically decided that the boys should do the washing up. Liam's stomach cringed at the thought of being in the small kitchen with Scott, which got worse when Stiles sneakily got out of doing it, by saying he still needed to do some prep for his event.

The girls called bull, but Stiles just ran off. Scott, being Scott, obviously wasn't going to object to a democratic decision based on fairness, so he disappeared into the kitchen.

"I actually need to call my parents," Mason said as he got up from the table. "I haven't told them we're arrived safely yet and they tend to worry quite a lot."

Lydia smiled sympathetically, called it sweet, and told Mason to go upstairs, so he could call in private, but Liam knew he was lying. What he didn't know was whether Mason was doing it so Liam would purposely be alone with Scott, or if he was at such a level of angry that he didn't want to be standing next to Liam anymore.

With that saddening debate in mind, Liam cleared the table and went into the kitchen, where Scott was already filling the sink with hot, soapy water.

"Scrubbing or drying?" he asked, holding up a brush and a tea towel.

"Scrubbing," Liam decided. That way he could rush through it and leave as soon as possible. He rolled up his sleeves to the elbow.

"You okay?" Scott asked. "You didn't say much during dinner."

Apparently Mason hadn't been the only one who had noticed. Then again, it really shouldn't come as a surprise to Liam. This was considerate, caring Scott McCall. Of course he noticed. He noticed every small thing when it came to the comfort or discomfort of his friends.

Except when you liked him.

"Yeah, fine," Liam answered, dropping the dirty dishes and cutlery in the sink. The water splashed up and fell onto his arms. It was hot. Too hot. Liam stuck his hands in it, grinding his teeth at the burning pain that enveloped them. Yet, there was something deep down inside of him that made it feel good.

The plates were steaming as he put them on the drying rack next to him. Scott was leaning against the counter. Liam knew he was watching him.

"Do you know how you can tell people are lying when they say they're fine?" the older one asked after a while.

Liam scoffed. "Psychology 101 with Scott McCall?"

"They don't ask why you think so." Scott ignored his comment. "If someone asks a person what's wrong, and there's truly nothing wrong, they always ask what makes them think so, because they worry that they're doing something wrong that makes them think that."

Liam clenched his jaw, silently continuing to scrub the plates, trying to focus on the burning heat.

"You didn't ask why," Scott added.

The cage that Liam had already felt like he was in became smaller. He wasn't going to budge. Who did Scott think he was, anyway? Psycho-analysing him. It was such a violation of his privacy.

When it remained quiet between them and Liam had finished the plates and started on the cutlery, Scott sighed and picked up one of the plates with his towel.

"Ah," he hissed.

He quickly dried off the plate and put it down. Liam felt Scott's eyes on him again. Then the, older one dipped the tip of his index finger into the water. He quickly pulled it out, waving his hand to get rid of the water.

"Liam, the water's way too hot. Why haven't you made it colder?" he asked.

Liam didn't reply; instead he started scrubbing more vigorously. Cleaning the cutlery was worse, because the metal conducted more of the heat than the porcelain plates did.

"Liam," Scott repeated, but the boy still didn't respond.

Scott put down the towel and grabbed Liam's arms by the wrist, pulling them out of the water. Taken aback, Liam let go of the things he had been holding and his fingers emerged from the water.

"Your hands are all red," Scott said, holding them in his hands.

Liam didn't dare to look up at him. Instead he just stared at his – indeed, red – hands. Scott's hands were freezing, but soft, too. They cooled his skin. Just like when they had rubbed Liam's face that afternoon. He tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, thinking of ice and snow, polar bears and penguins; of freezing.

"Liam, what's wrong?"

Scott's words lingered in the air between them, almost visible in front of his downward gaze. They rang in his ears, repeating themselves over and over again. He had been waiting so long for Scott to ask him that that the question now made him choke up. A lump grew in his throat, his stomach tightening, for there was nothing more that he wanted to cry out than how confused he was, and how much he hated this stupid holiday. He wanted to burst out in tears and for Scott to pull him against his chest and just to cry his frustrated heart out.

But his heartbeat slowed down, until it was barely beating – frozen over.

Liam yanked his hands from Scott's, removing himself from the kitchen as fast as he could. He ran up the stairs, where Mason just came out of their room.

"Finished the washing up?" his friend asked.

But Liam ignored him and instead threw the door shut behind him, leaving Mason in the hallway.

He fell onto his bed, smothering his face in his pillow. This was too hard. He couldn't do it. It was just too difficult. God, why did he like Scott? Of all people, why Scott? He was just so nice – said and did everything Liam wanted him to do – so why him? Why did it have to be so difficult? Why did Scott have to care so much? Why couldn't he just be some cocky jock that was easy to hate?

But Liam knew he wouldn't have liked him if he was.

The fact that he knew the answer to all of those question was even worse than asking them. It made him feel like there was no way out. Of course he liked Scott. How could he not like a guy that was always caring, sympathetic, and loving? That was why he couldn't tell himself that Scott was toying with him, because he wasn't. Scott was just being Scott. Everything he did: touching Liam's face, holding his hands, asking what was wrong, it was in his nature. He cared, because they were friends.

They were friends.

Liam repeated the sentence in his head over and over again, eventually calming himself down. They were friends. He couldn't blame Scott for being sweet, because they were friends, and friends care about each other. He couldn't be angry at Scott, because they were friends, and friends didn't have to be angry with one another. He couldn't be a dick to Scott, because, after all, they were still friends, and friends weren't dicks to each other.

Gradually, Liam's breathing returned back to normal, and he was able to swallow the lump in his throat.

Liam and Scott were friends. That was all they were ever going to be, and it was okay. It should be okay.

He laid there for half an hour more, calming himself down. Right when he was sure his emotions had subsided, the door swung open.

"Dude, come downstairs, my thing is happening," Stiles said, disappearing again as quickly as he had appeared.

Liam crawled off the bed, straightening out his sweatshirt and his pyjama bottoms. He took a deep breath and walked out of the room, going downstairs.

For a split second the horrifying idea that Scott had told everyone what had just happened in the kitchen scared him, but when he heard everyone excitedly chatting outside, that faded.

He put on his shoes and stepped through the front door, where a campfire was burning around the corner of the house.

"We're making s'mores!" Stiles exclaimed excitedly with thrown up arms.

The gang laughed, going back inside to grab their winter coats. They all went and sat down around the campfire on thick logs that Stiles had assembled. Scott placed himself across from Liam, which hurt the boy a little, but then Mason sat down beside him, which brought some comfort. Maybe he wasn't mad at him anymore.

"I have to say, Stiles," Lydia said after they had all picked up a wooden stick, a marshmallow skewered on top near the fire. "I was worried you were going to come up with something ridiculous, but this is really nice."

Stiles smirked.

"Yeah," Kira agreed. "So do you do this every Christmas?"

"Not necessarily during Christmas," Stiles admitted. "But my dad and I go on a fishing trip every once in a while, just the two of us, and in the evening we always roast marshmallows on a campfire."

"That's a really nice tradition," Mason said, who was sitting next to him.

Stiles nodded. "It is."

Liam pulled his marshmallow from the fire, carefully taking a bite. It had gone crispy on the outside, but once in his mouth it was all warm and gooey. He savoured the fluffy texture. The sweet taste cheered him up a little, and when he opened his eyes again he accidentally locked them with Scott, who smiled at him weakly. Liam's heart skipped a beat, and granted him a lopsided smile as to apologize for what had happened earlier. The other averted his gaze.

"But, there is more to it," Stiles said mysteriously. He reached behind himself and Liam could hear him rustling through a plastic bag.

"Tada!" Stiles said, holding up a bottle of Jägermeister.

The group groaned.

"I knew there was a catch," Malia said.

"Bet you don't do that with your dad," Lydia mentioned with a look.

Stiles laughed. "Oh, come on. It's just to keep you warm. We can make a game out of it."

"I'm not taking off any of my clothes," Kira warned, rubbing her shoulders protectively.

"No! It's nothing like that," Stiles said. "I was thinking that we let the bottle go round, we each take a shot, and whenever we feel like we've had enough liquid courage, we each admit something about ourselves no one else knows."

"That's gonna be quite hard," Scott said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Fine, something hardly any of us know," he corrected himself. "Who wants to start?"

The group glanced at each other before they simultaneously exclaimed, "You!"

Stiles huffed. "Fine, I'll take the first shot, but I'm not going to be the first to say something."

He put words to action as he opened the bottle and took a swig. "Aaah, okay." He shook his head. "Your turn," he said, handing the bottle to Mason.

Mason scoffed with an unimpressed look, taking a drink from the bottle without saying anything. He didn't even wince.

"Not my first time, my friend," he said to Stiles as he handed the bottle to the one sitting next to him.

Liam tentatively took the bottle and took a swig. The liquid burned his throat and he coughed a couple of times, contracting his mouth in a weird angle. "Ugh."

The bottle was handed to Lydia, to Malia, to Kira, and finally to Scott, who all pulled the same face as Liam had done.

"You guys haven't said anything!" Stiles said upon receiving the bottle again.

Everyone shrugged. It seemed like no one wanted to go first. So Stiles drank for a second time, and the bottle went full circle in dead silence, with cringing faces and loud coughing.

Liam could tell Stiles was starting to hesitate about doing the inevitable; going first. But the bottle went round again. It was quite strong stuff, especially since none of them ever really drank – except for Mason, apparently.

"Fine!" Stiles finally gave in.

The group laughed and cheered.

Stiles looked around, waiting for them to quieten down. He was holding the bottle at the neck.

"I'm still a virgin," he said, quickly putting the bottle to his lips.

"What?!" the gang exclaimed.

"What about you and Malia?" Kira asked. "In Eichen House?"

Stiles shook his head. "Never happened."

"So you lied?" Lydia asked.

"Well, technically we only said we'd had a special night, not that anything had happened," Stiles answered, shrugging.

"That's actually true," Malia chipped in.

Scott snickered. Liam figured he knew already.

"Anyway, I've done mine," Stiles said. "Next."

Mason chuckled, shaking his head. He took the bottle from Stiles. "Okay, well, on that note, Corey and I have done it." He drank.

Liam knew that, but the rest all swooned jokingly.

"How was it?" Lydia asked, her full lips formed in a cheeky smile.

Mason shrugged. "It was quite awkward at first, but in the end it was good. We had fun."

"Who was taking it?"

"Stiles!" Lydia shrieked. "You can't ask that."

"Why not?" Stiles asked, throwing up his hands. "I'm merely being polite."

Mason laughed. "Sorry, man. You said it only had to be one secret."

"Game's changing, game's changing!" Stiles announced. "It's two secrets now!"

Everyone laughed, but ignored him. Mason handed the bottle to Liam.

Liam thought for a while, but he didn't feel like saying anything yet – also because he didn't know what to say. He didn't have that many secrets. Well, except for that he liked Scott, but he wasn't going to share that one. So, he drank and passed the Jägermeister on to Lydia.

It went full circle again. The bottle was halfway down. Liam was feeling something now. He was lightheaded and the fire had become a bit more pleasant against his face, like he was glowing.

"Okay, I'll do it," Malia then said. She took a big chug.

Stiles shook his head. "You know you're supposed to say your secret-"

"I like Lydia!" Malia exclaimed, taking another swig. "Woo!" She fell against Lydia's shoulder, nestling into her neck.

"Oh, sweetie, I like you, too," Lydia responded, patting her head gently.

The group exchanged looks, probably all thinking the same as Liam was. Did Malia meant she liked liked Lydia, or just as a friend? But no one said anything, and the bottle was passed on. There was a flicker of hope and pleasant surprise in Liam, realizing that, if this was how the group reacted to someone having a crush on someone, it might not be all bad.

For a moment it seemed like Kira was about to say something, but instead drank and gave it to Scott.

"Fine, I'll go next," he gave in. "Purely because I can't take much more of this stuff."

Stiles giggled.

"I just want to say…" he paused. "You guys are my best friends. And I'm really happy that you're here."

"Boo!" the group shouted. Malia threw a handful of marshmallows Scott's way. Liam chuckled, too. Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought Scott could be such a goodie-two-shoes.

"That's not a secret. We all know that," he said in the spur of the moment.

For a second Scott looked up, seemingly surprised that Liam was talking, and especially talking to him. His gaze lasted for a beat longer. Liam averted his eyes, cheeks reddening, which he hoped Scott couldn't see through the fire.

"Alright," Scott said. "I'll tell you a secret." He rearranged himself on the log, and Liam didn't know if it was because he had been staring at him when he said that or if it was because of the alcohol, but a shot of adrenaline pumped through his veins. Paralysed by liquid courage, he forgot about guarding his heart.

"I don't have many Christmas traditions," Scott said. "My mom and I try to celebrate Christmas, but we don't really. Since my dad left and I don't have any other siblings, it has always been just the two of us, but as I became older, she started to work more. So, over the past two years, she'd always have to work."

Liam raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had not seen that one coming.

"So yeah, I guess you could say this is the first time in three years that I'm celebrating Christmas again," Scott finalized. "And I'm really excited about it."

Lydia smiled sympathetically and Kira rubbed his shoulder.

Scott put the bottle to his lips and threw his head back. After he swallowed, he added, "Which is also why my Christmas tradition isn't really a tradition, because I have none."

"But yours is going to be the best," Stiles said, patting him on the shoulder. "Trust me, guys, it's really cool."

Liam stared at Scott. He'd never expected this from him. It seemed like he and Liam were in similar situations, except that Liam still hated the tradition he had come up with for the weekend. Still, hearing Scott admit that ignited a small flame of courage inside of him.

"My turn," he said, taking the bottle from Stiles, who was just about to drink.

"Oh, I know yours," Mason interrupted. His speech sounded slurred. "I know your secret."

Liam's eyes widened and he gave him a look. He gripped the bottle a little tighter in his fist. Surely Mason wasn't referring to…was he? No, he was his best friend.

"Liam's worried no one will like his tradition," Mason told.

Liam exhaled a deep sigh, his grip on the bottle loosening.

"Why are you worried?" Lydia asked.

The boy rubbed his knees together, gaze falling. "Because I don't really like Christmas in the first place," he admitted softly.

"What?!" the group screamed at him.

Liam defensively moved his hands in front of his face, quickly drinking after the voices had died down.

"I just find it really stressful," he explained. "Coming up with original ideas, buying presents for everyone. It's such a…hassle. It can really get into my head."

He glanced up and caught Scott looking at him with a proud smile. Liam blushed. There was something in the way Scott looked at him that made his stomach jump and his fingers tingle (or maybe it was the alcohol). But then it dawned on Liam that the poor guy probably thought that was the thing that had been bothering him in the kitchen earlier. He swallowed, because he knew that wasn't entirely fair.

On the other hand, Scott was allowed to think that. Technically Liam wasn't lying. He was just keeping the truth to himself. At least it meant one less person being pissed at him. Although he doubted Scott had been pissed in the first place.

Mason patted him on the back and squeezed his neck. Liam gave him a thankful look.

Okay, maybe no one was pissed at him anymore. Finally, this weekend seemed to look a little better.

He offered Lydia the bottle. She took it with a deep sigh, then inhaled a deep breath.

"I miss my dad," she said.

Everyone remained silent. Lydia's dad had killed himself many years ago, but she never really spoken about it. Actually, this was the first time Liam had heard her mention it. He had only known about it before because Mason had told him.

Malia was staring at Lydia, biting her lip. She pulled her against her chest and kissed her hair. Lydia smiled.

"This is so silly," she said after Malia had let go of her again. "I was so excited about this weekend." She sniffed. "I think it's just because it's my first Christmas away from my mom – and don't get me wrong, I love you guys. I love being here with you guys, but it's just… I don't know." She shook her head, brushed her hair out of her face, smiled. "I think I'm just having a moment."

Everyone smiled at her sympathetically. She took another drink, before giving the bottle to Kira.

The dark haired girl sighed. "Well, to continue the slightly sadder part of the evening," she paused, closing her eyes briefly. "Sometimes I feel like I'm irrelevant."

Liam perked up a little, like a dog hearing its name being called.

Lydia was the first to say something. "What? Why do you feel that way? You're not irrelevant."

Kira shrugged lightly. "I don't know. I guess I just…gosh, this is going to sound awful, but I…I guess, sometimes, I don't feel as connected to you guys as you seem to be connected to each other?"

"How do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"Well, you have Scott, Mason and Liam are best friends, and Lydia and Malia are really tight."

"What do you mean Malia and I are tight?" Lydia said with a look of disbelief on her face. Her voice had risen an octave. "We are tight."

Liam had to admit that he kind of understood where Kira was coming from. Sure, he had Mason, but he had a different relationship to the others in the group. Probably because Mason was his best friend, and the others were just friends, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing – it was just the way things were – but sometimes it could make him feel like an outsider. Merely because he and Mason had been the most recent additions to their group. Maybe he felt like they were still integrating.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Kira said. "It's not like I think you're all bad friends or something."

"Honey, I'm more shocked that you feel that way, because you shouldn't feel that way," Lydia said.

"Yeah," Scott agreed. "We never meant to make you feel like you're irrelevant.

Kira blushed, taking another swig from the bottle. "To be honest, I think it's also because of my parents. I mean, we've moved so many times. I've had to let go of so many friends, and all those people have moved on. It just makes me feel like I'm not important, you know? Like…I didn't leave a gap in their life or anything. I can just disappear and nothing will have changed."

Beside Liam, Lydia was shaking her head. She got up, and moved a seat down so she was sitting between Kira and Malia. She took the bottle from Kira's hands and put it on the ground, taking her hands in hers.

"Look," she said. A strand of her strawberry blonde hair fell on her slightly flustered cheek. "Maybe you don't feel like you would leave a gap when you would move again, but you certainly fill mine. After…" She swallowed. "After Allison passed away…I was so lonely. No offense to the boys, but it just…it wasn't the same. When I met you and Malia, that feeling slowly started to fade. I had friends again. Girlfriends who I could paint my nails with and try on clothes with and relate to." She smiled. "So you are relevant. Especially to me, and I'm sorry that sometimes you feel disconnected, but I feel quite the opposite with you."

Liam swallowed. The heartfelt confession caused his throat to close up a little. Suddenly, he saw movement in the corner of his eyes and… And did Scott just wipe his eyes?

Then it hit him. Lydia wasn't the only one with a gap in her life. Scott had the same one. Probably even bigger than Lydia's. Liam frowned sadly, resisting the urge to get up and wrap Scott into his arms. He had never seen this side of him, not even thought about the possibility.

But Scott was hurting, too.

Lydia had pressed her forehead against Kira, but the silence was broken when they all heard someone sniff loudly. Everyone's eyes drew to Stiles, who was basically balling.

"Stiles? Are you okay?" Scott asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"That was so sweet!" Stiles exclaimed, breath hitching in his throat.

It broke the tension, and the group burst out laughing. Stiles got up and retrieved the abandoned bottle. He narrowed his eyes to look inside.

"Alright, everyone's had a go, and there should be one last shot in there for all of us," he said, looking around for confirmation.

Everyone nodded, and Stiles said, "To friendship!"

The group mimicked his motion one by one, until Scott had the last sip.

Stiles placed his hands on his hips, still standing. He nodded. "Well, I'd call that a successful night."

They all agreed.

They sat around the fire a while longer, enjoying the buzz of the alcohol, until the flames died out and they decided it was time to go to bed. They all got up, and now Liam could definitely feel the Jägermeister. His head was spinning and his throat felt dry.

"Hey, look, it's snowing," Mason mentioned.

Everyone looked up and admired the sight for a second, before they slumped back inside.

There was an odd moment when everyone was upstairs. They were about to go into their separate rooms, but suddenly everyone turned around and started hugging each other, one by one, each wishing each other good night. Something like that had never really happened before, but Liam enjoyed the close contact. It made him feel like they were one united front – like a real group of friends.

Scott turned towards him, and Liam looked up awkwardly. Scott's eyes were droopy from being tired, but he smiled nonetheless, sticking out his arms. Liam's heart jumped and he wrapped his arms around Scott's waist. When his chin was resting on Scott's shoulder, he let out a deep sigh. Scott gently stroked his back.

"G'night," Liam said, after they had let go.

"Sweet dreams," Scott said.

After that, Liam went into his bedroom, where Mason had already sprawled himself out on his bed.

"Some night, huh?" he slurred, voice muffled by the pillow.

Liam nodded. "Some night…"

"How are you feeling?" Mason asked.

Liam sighed. It was probably because he was tipsy, but suddenly he was overwhelmed by a feeling of joy and happiness and he answered, "I want to fill Scott's hole."

"I bet you do," Mason giggled.

"Not that way!" Liam exclaimed, the tips of his ears burning. "I mean the hole in his heart."

Mason hummed. "That's nice." He rolled over onto his back, turning his head to the side. "So does that mean you're gonna go for it?"

Liam shrugged. "I don't know… I don't know if I'm the right person, you know. I mean, it's one thing wanting it, but it's not really up to me…"

"Only one way to find out…"

Liam nodded. He took off his clothes and crawled into bed, waiting for Mason to do the same.

His best friend was about to switch off the light when he turned towards Liam and said, "I think you two would be really great together."

Liam smiled, because Mason had mentioned that already. A second later darkness filled the room. Liam sank deeper into his sheets and, with that, deeper into his thoughts. And as the alcohol subsided and night time doubt started to kick in, by the time he fell asleep, he was thinking he'd rather be friends with Scott, then nothing at all.