AN: On the tenth day of Christmas, that bitch Fate gave to you, ten minutes freezing, nine snowballs thrown, eight difficult cards, seven Doctor Who seasons watched, six different cultures, five parcels sent, four broken decorations, three hours shopping, two issues sorted and one argument over Christmas Day.

I own fuck all.

12 Days of Christmas
Anonniemoose
Chapter Ten: Hot Chocolate and Cuddles
Word Count: 1, 228

You wake up with the desperate need for a drink. Throwing back your blankets, you expect to greet a warm room, but suddenly the need for warmth overthrows the need for liquid. It was freezing. You gather your blanket closer to you, trying to conserve heat glaring over to the snoring pups.

Normally, a certain King of Hell would be sharing your bed and would be more than willing to participate in certain activities that would warm you up. But, after your romantic lunch he had organised and made himself, he unfortunately had a business call with the rogue crossroads demons taking souls before their time prancing their way through the US; so you wouldn't be expecting him until at least Christmas Eve. Until then, you were on your own. And, unfortunately for you, Montague had ripped your best blanket to shreds and you were left with your extra thin sheet you used for the occasional hot summer's night. All because that bloody mutt decided that it'd be fun to rip your favourite winter blanket apart.

The need for something to warm you up makes you sigh as you pull back the blankets, skin instantly forming goosebumps in the chilled air. You pull on your sweater and wrap the thin sheet around you as you trod into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to notice the lack of light coming from it.

Shit. No wonder it was so cold. The fucking power was out.

A quick trip to the window told you that, yes, it was the snow that caused you to have no access to anything warm. All you wanted was some reheated leftover Chinese and some hot chocolate, was that too much to ask?

Shutting the curtain, you storm back into your bedroom, angry that you had no way of keeping warm. You grab your phone and check the time quickly. Two in the fucking morning. Quickly calculating the time difference, you smile when you realise that it was three in the afternoon over in Australia. Logging in to your Tumblr, you quickly find your best friend's account and attempt to start a chat.

Of course, that's when your battery decided it would be a good time to die. Growling in frustration, you throw your phone onto your bed before faceplanting yourself onto the pillow next to it.

"Bit chilly in here, isn't luv?" The British voice makes you sigh with happiness.

"Yeah well, the snow has put out the electricity." You complain. "No bloody heating." Suddenly, a light weight is placed on you and you turn to see that it is an exact replica of the blanket that is currently torn to shred in your living room. A dip in the bed makes you snuggle against the warm King of Hell, his arms wrapping themselves around you. Your fingertips instantly go to trace around the images inked into his skin.

"Better, luv?"

You groan happily. "Yes, thank you Crowley." He brushes his lips against the juncture of your neck. You could feel his lips turned up into a smile. "What happened to the crossroads demon?"

"Ah. The Winchesters managed to get all the hard work done for me. All I had to do was take the little prat and make an example of him." You shudder at his words, knowing all-to-well what would have happened to the demon. "Moose got married. Becky, I believe her name was."

"Not Becky?!" You smirk when you hear the news. "Poor Sammy."

"You know her?"

"I know of her. Sam rarely shuts up about her whenever Dean gets the chance to bring her up in conversation." You wait a moment. "Promise me that you won't do anything stupid for Christmas dinner at Bobby's?"

"Anything to keep you happy." He pulls you in closer. "You know," he starts after a moment's silence as you take in each other's company, "there are other ways to keep warm." You look up at him as he kisses you gently.

"Mmm?" You smirk against his lips as they gently brush against yours. "Such as?"

A click of his fingers leaves you sitting up against his chest as he sits up against the headboard, a laptop between your legs playing The Impossible Astronaut softly as he rests his head on your shoulder. A mug is pressed into your hands and you smile at his choice of drink.

"This better be as good as my Nona's." You warn as you sip the hot chocolate, moaning at the sudden burst of flavour in your mouth. You sit there in silence as Crowley rubs circles into the sides of your hips as you drink your delicious hot chocolate (which always seems to top up when you reach about halfway) and watching his favourite episode of Doctor Who, happy with the situation you were in. Then the memories started rolling in.

"We used to do this, you know." You whisper sadly, putting the mug down on the table next to you. "Sebastian and I. We used to stay up until Christmas morning watching movies, playing games, drinking hot chocolate, eating snacks. We'd try to catch Santa, but we never could. Mama, Bapa and Nona were too good for us." His grip tightens marginally. "I miss him, ya know? But if I was to try and bring him back, he wouldn't want to be here. He would be so mad that I did anything to reverse what was done." Crowley kisses your collarbone in a gently form of encouragement. "Still, I would do anything to be able to go back and tell myself that something wasn't right."

"It wasn't your fault, Y/N." Crowley tells you firmly. "You couldn't have known that he was going to do that."

"But there were signs, Crowley." You insisted. "Signs that I missed." Silence washes over you.

"Pet, you know that I did not have a pleasant upbringing." He begins, pausing the episode before continuing. "I didn't have loving parents like you did. I didn't have siblings like you did. My own mother tried to sell me off for three pigs for Christ's sake!" With each word he spoke, the more guilt you felt. "But, there are still times that I miss that life. Even with all the abuse and neglect, there were positives too."

"What are you trying to say, Crowley?"

"I'm saying that the more you hold onto the past, the more it'll influence your future." He says gently. "You can't hold onto the negative and wishing for the positive to return, or else you'll just become bitter and cold." He spins you around so you can face him his left hand coming up to cup your face and his right trailing up to your waist, tracing light patterns onto your skin. "And Sebastian wouldn't have wanted that." You smile and nod.

"I'm sorry Crowley." You whisper before leaning in to kiss him gently.

"Don't be. How many times have you listened to me rant on about the stupidity of demons, hellhounds, hunters and angels alike?" You smirk at that.

"Too many to count." You agree before kissing him again, this time with more passion and force. "I know something that will warm us up." You tease with a wink, hand slowly making its way down his chest. Crowley laughs before pulling you up so you are straddling his lap.

"That's my girl."