Author's Note: Need to give a quick shout-out to Savixfrost on instagram because they have been keeping me up to date on the Armageddon relationship tea. And since I'm up to date on that tea, it means I'm pretty well inspired to write these two BABIES :D :D

"Mark," Frost groaned as Mark Blaine kissed his way down the side of her neck, hands gripping her dress-clad hips. She wove her fingers into his hair let her head fall back. "Mark, we can't do this."

"I dunno, Snowflake, I feel pretty capable," Mark grinned, lifting his face and stepping further into her personal space so they were crammed against the wall.

"I meant we can't do this here," Frost elaborated as her heart thudded erratically. Her hands trailed down Mark's chest of their own accord. "We can't make out in the West's closet."

Mark snorted a laugh, chin ducking. "Well when you put it like that…"

He started to back off but Frost quickly caught him. "Just… one more," she decided, and pressed her lips hungrily to his. Her back thunked the closet again, her hands untucking his shirt so she could rest her palms against his defined abdomen.

"Okay, okay," Mark mumbled, pulling her hands back out and pressing quick kisses to each knuckles. "Back into the fire, then?"

"It's just a Christmas party." Frost rolled her eyes at his tendency for dramatics, and gave him a light shove so she could have some space to readjust her hair and dress. Mark started tucking in his shirt again and Frost reached up to try and smooth his hair back into place.

Mark gave her a look. "It's not just a Christmas party. It's a Christmas party with a whole slew of superheroes, all of which hate me, especially your sister who, I might add, has given me at least seventeen dirty looks tonight, an impressive feat considering we got here twenty minutes ago."

Frost let out a sigh. "You're so sensitive," she scoffed, but when Mark frowned a little she gave his hand a squeeze. "But it's one of my favorite things about you, so, um… don't change, or whatever."

When they'd sorted themselves out enough and miraculously resisted the urge to just stay in the closet for the rest of the evening, Frost carefully opened the closet door and checked both ways. "Coast is clear," she confirmed, and slipped into the hallway.

She and Mark made it back to the West's living room without incident, but the moment they stepped into sight every eye turned to them.

"Oh look who decided to show up?" Cisco teased, smirking wildly at the dirty look Frost shot him.

Joe rubbed his forehead. "What horizontal space do I now need to decontaminate before touching again?"

"No space, thank you very much," Frost huffed. If it was possible for her to blush, she would be as red as a Christmas bauble. She grabbed Mark's hand. "Come on. You'll love Grandma Ester's eggnog."

The room slowly returned to its original clamor, but Frost was now in a bad mood. It wasn't as if she and Mark were the first couple to ever sneak off from one of Joe West's Christmas parties for a covert make out session. Why were her friends being so abrasive about it?

"It's me," Mark muttered, as if reading her thoughts. "I told you, Snowflake, no one here likes me."

"I do," Frost snapped, incredibly offended on his behalf. She slammed the fridge shut after grabbed a bottle of eggnog, making the items in it rattle. "I like you, Mark, and that should be enough for them."

She dumped a bit of eggnog into two mugs, then put the bottle back inside the fridge, still stewing angrily. Mark stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek to her temples as he leaned their heads together.

"Hey," he said quietly. "It's okay. Nobody liked Romeo and Juliet together, either."

Frost's lips quirked reluctantly. "I always hated that story," she muttered, but leaned comfortably back against his chest.

"But it's a fan favorite." Mark shrugged. "The most famous romance of all time, probably. So maybe there's still a chance for us to win ship-of-the-year."

Frost snorted. "Pretty sure Westallen has held that title for, like, eight centuries," she grumbled, glaring over at Barry and Iris, who were cozily sharing a chair. No one was complaining about their cuddle-session. Granted, they weren't sneaking off and-

"That's it!" Frost exclaimed, spinning around in Mark's arms. "Our problem, Romeo and Juliet's problem, too, is that we're being too secretive. If we were prouder and more open with our relationship, maybe people wouldn't mind so much!"

Mark frowned, looking a bit befuddled, but Frost knew she was on the right track. "Work with me," she told Mark firmly, then grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the sprig of mistletoe that was always hanging from the kitchen entryway during the Christmas season.

"Mistletoe, Snowflake?" Mark asked dubiously. "A little cliché, don't you think?"

"Mark, you're basically a walking cliché," Frost said, rolling her eyes. "Just trust me."

She gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a long, but fairly PG-rated, kiss. When they broke apart Frost turned to her friends expectantly, hoping to see teasing smiles, at the very least.

No one was even paying attention.

Frost let out a deep sigh, resignation settling over her. "Well," she said, "no one can say we didn't try."

Mark slung an arm over her shoulder and grabbed both their mugs of eggnog, handing one to her. He took a sip, and shuddered. "Dang, that stuff's strong, and that's coming from me."

Frost smiled halfheartedly.

"Hey, Snowflake." Mark looked seriously at her. "It doesn't matter, okay? We don't have to be beloved by all, because, well… you're beloved by me. Or loved by me. Or something."

"You're or-something-ed by me, too," Frost murmured. She took a sip of eggnog and leaned into his side, and the party no longer seemed so unwelcoming.

Author's Note: I really didn't have a plan for that, just wanted to switch things up, but I'm satisfied.

Can you tell from this fic that I want a Frostblaine kiss really really bad?