Merry Christmas, Michael
cute teen!mavin Christmas fluff with cuddles and kisses and Santa!Geoff
“Michael!” an excited squeak woke the dozing teen. “My boy, get up, hurry! I heard something on the roof!” Michael squinted through the hallway light that washed into the bedroom and up at a bouncing Gavin who tugged at his arm. “Get a move on you slag, hurry!” he whispered. Michael groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“Gav, what the hell? It’s like 2 in the morning,” he grumbled, groggy. “Geoff’ll be pissed if he sees you awake at this hour.” Gavin rolled his eyes as he pulled the other out of bed.
“Oh, bugger off, it’s Santa! He’s here, I swear it!”
Michael sighed, beginning to sit back in bed, shaking his head. “Are you freakin’ serious right now? You woke me up for that? He’s not real, Gav. Get over yourself.” Gavin’s lips pursed as his excitement melted away. Tears formed in his eyes as he huffed in a sharp breath.
“Well, fine, if you don’t care, go back to sleep then! I’ll meet Santa and give him my cookies and he’ll give you coal for being an awful friend,” he shot back, voice broken in betrayal. Michael hesitated a moment before cursing under his breath and standing back up.
“Jesus, alright, I’m coming,” he muttered. Gavin grinned, clinging onto the teen’s arm joyously.
“Well then let’s go, he’s probably almost done puttin’ the presents down!”
The two hurried down the hall and onto the stairs to peek over the railing at the boys’ area where their Christmas tree was in the foster home. Their eyes scanned the room, Michael’s looking doubtful. They were about to give up when the sound of footsteps had them freezing in their tracks.
“Ho, ho, hey there!” a voice murmured as he entered the room, moving over to the stand with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk on it. “Still warm!” he chuckled. “The milk could use a little, uh, seasoning,” he mumbled, pulling out a bottle of what looked to be whiskey. Gavin’s mouth gaped.
“Santa!” he cried. The man jumped and looked over his shoulder at the two boys. Michael covered his mouth to contain his laughter. The man was obviously Geoff, but he didn’t want to ruin it for poor Gavvers. Santa blinked in surprise.
“Oh, uh, what are you two boys doing up so late? Ho, ho,” he exclaimed, putting down his bag of gifts.
“What are you guzzling up on bloody alcohol for? Don’t you have to drive your sleigh?” Gavin asked. Michael snorted.
“Well, uh, Santa doesn’t drink alcohol, young boy! This is just apple cider! So, yeah. Uh, ho, ho!”
Gavin blinked. He suddenly smiled. “Oh, that makes more sense. Sorry, Santa.” Michael covered his face with his hands. The man nodded and motioned to the hallway.
“Now you boys get on back to bed before I replace your gifts with some coal!”
Gavin grinned, bouncing up and down while grasping Michael’s hand in his. “Thanks Santa!” he practically giggled, turning and hurrying up the stairs with a hysterical Michael behind him. When they reached the American’s bedroom, Gavin hopped in beside him. Michael raised an eyebrow after finally calming down.
“Don’t you have your own bed?” he inquired. Gavin snuggled under the covers and pressed up against the other teen.
“Yeah, but I’m too excited to sleep alone. Plus, its cold and you’re warm,” he added. Michael chuckled and wrapped his arms around Gavin, pushing his cheek into the Brit’s soft hair. “Hey, Michael,” he suddenly murmured. Michael opened his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“I think I see a mistletoe,” he said quietly. Michael looked up, perplexed with his eyebrows furrowed.
“I don’t see a-“
Gavin cut him off as he leaned forward, kissing the other lightly on the lips. Michael lay they, taken by surprise, but he soon relaxed into it and kissed him back. After a moment, the Brit pulled away to lay his head down on Michael’s chest. The American pressed his lips into the teen’s soft hair.
“Merry Christmas, Gav,” he murmured. Gavin smiled and enjoyed the feeling of the other’s warmth.
“Merry Christmas, my little Michael.”