Christmas was so...chaotic. Sure it was also fun and pretty, the lights, the games, spending time with friends and family, the religious connotations. Drift understood why the humans wanted to Celebrate it. But at the same time, it just seemed to stress them out.
Cade would yell about the decorations not being in the right place, Tess was yelling about the food and not getting everything done on time, and Shane was yelling about presents.
It was loud and annoying. And the other Autobots made everything worse by trying to help.
You tried to be a mediator, trying to take control and help where you could. Most of the time you were able to resolve problems before they even became an issue. Drift loved that about you, always calm even in the most stressful of situations.
He watched you work, whisking away the problems and only producing answers. You corralled the others and made them all stop yelling. Eventually things quietened down and became pleasant. And everyone was able to have a wonderful Christmas. Then the evening came, the humans began to drink and the other bots (mainly Crosshairs and Bumblebee) began to quarrel over the stupid things. And it once again became loud.
Drift decided he had enough for one day and went to find some piece and quiet.
He found himself a place of solitude and sat down, then began to meditate. Not long into his meditation, he heard the soft plodding of footsteps. He recognized them instantly as yours. He kept his optics closed and waited for you to get closer.
You walked in front of him, stopping at his crossed legs, then waited. He opened his optics and looked down at you. You beamed up at him, your smile was contagious, causing him to smile in return. He lowered a servo and allowed you to get on.
He lifted you to his face, so you were eyes to optics.
"Merry Christmas Drift." You sang sweetly.
"Merry Christmas." He returned. He then noticed that you had something hidden behind your back. "What have you got?"
"Something I want to share with you."
"And what would that be?"
"A Christmas tradition."
Drift did like traditions. He wasn't sure what Christmas tradition you thought he might like, but since it was with you he was willing to give it a go.
"What do we do?" He asked.
You pulled out mistletoe from behind your back and held it above your head.
"We kiss under the mistletoe." You shook the little plant, closed your eyes and pushed out your lips, then waited for him.
Drift could have sworn his spark exploded. Although if it had, he wouldn't be alive, and he wouldn't be staring at you on his servo, lips plump and perfect, waiting for his.
He had wanted to kiss you for a while, but he never expected that you felt the same. Was this normal? You said it was a tradition, had you done this with the other humans? The other bots? He didn't want to think about that. He wanted to think that you had only come to him, only wanting to kiss him.
He soon realized he had left you waiting. You still stood there, patiently. And he didn't waste another second. He leaned in and met your lips with his. His cold metal, on your warm skin. This was the greatest tradition that Earth could ever offer him. The sensation of your lips on his, as the humans described, was pure heaven.
You pulled away, and he felt at a loss. His lips missed yours. They needed to be connected again.
"Thank you for partaking in the tradition Drift. I am glad I get to spend Christmas with you." You spoke. And his love for you grew even more.
"Must we only kiss if the mistletoe is with us? Or could we perhaps kiss without it?" He asked, taking the risk.
"Oh." You blushed. Then threw the mistletoe away. "We don't need it at all."
Drift laughed, then pulled you to his lips once again.
Though it may be chaotic, Christmas was now one of his favorite days.
Ellie, my darling! For your mistletoe prompt! Jaskier gets a little bit tipsy and decides to cover himself in sprigs of mistletoe and Geralt has to kiss him for every one he takes off! (Like wrist kisses etc.) Bonus if Jaskier has mistletoe tucked into his butt bow! 💝
my dearest wolfie, thank you for this lovely prompt!!! <3
the fic that came out is not exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it anyway!
this is just soft fluff
read on ao3
--------
Jaskier flitted through the library of Kaer Morhen, humming festive songs under his breath as he decorated the cozy room with fir branches, candles, dried orange slices, apples and paper stars he had made earlier.
Geralt stood unnoticed in the door for a few minutes, watching him. Jaskier had put on his burgundy doublet and trousers, elegant but sturdy leather boots that were lined with soft fur that Geralt made him buy for his first winter in Kaer Morhen and a dark green shirt was peaking through his open doublet.
“Oh, Geralt, there you are,” Jaskier said with a beaming smile as he noticed the witcher. This smile made Geralt’s heart miss a beat and he coughed to regain his composure before he hummed in greeting.
Jaskier spread his arms wide and asked, “and? What do you say? Do you like it?”
Geralt looked around and nodded appreciatively.
Jaskier had done a good job transforming the library - the room the witchers and the bard spend most of their winter evenings - into a festive hall. And it was not only looking good, the scent of pine needles, oranges and cinnamon hung in the air. It was just a faint scent, pleasant even for a witcher’s enhanced smelling.
“Its good.”
Jaskier shook his head but smiled and said, “oh Geralt, you are always so very eloquent.”
A moment later Jaskier clapped his hands together and said, “you must be sent by Melitele, I need help from someone tall and strong.” He winked at Geralt who raised an eyebrow at that. Jaskier grinned sheepishly and held up a sprig of mistletoe - or more like a whole bunch of sprigs.
Geralt frowned and asked, “what do you want with that?”
His heartbeat had picked up at the sight of the mistletoe and the thought of what custom was related to them. What was Jaskier planning?
“I cannot reach this beam.” The bard pointed up at the ceiling to a wooden beam with a conveniently placed hook where the witchers normally hung up herbs to dry.
“Just the last touch of decorations,” Jaskier said.
Geralt looked at him for a moment longer, hummed and said, “I get the ladder,” and turned to the door.
“Or,” Jaskier said, stopping Geralt midstep, “you could let me sit on your shoulders and lift me up.”
Geralt sighed and turned around. He looked at Jaskier who was smiling at him. Geralt wasn’t quite sure if he looked mischievious or...shy?
“No,” Geralt said. It came more out of reflex than an actual unwillingness to do what Jaskier had asked.
“Oh, come on, Geralt, please,” the bard said and put on his best pout, complete with pleading puppy eyes, “I know how strong you are and I will be quick as a...nekkar.”
Geralt huffed. “Nekkars aren’t that quick.”
“Then I’ll be quick as a...squirrel,” Jaskier said with a satisfied grin.
Geralt frowned and sighed again for good measure before he let his eyes roll up and said, “okay, but be quick.”
He walked over in quick strides and lowered himself down on one knee.
The bard smiled softly and said, “thank you, dear,” before he quickly slipped off his boots so he wouldn’t get dirt on Geralt’s shirt. Then he walked around him and climbed on Geralt’s shoulders, his leg’s left and right from the witcher’s head. When he was sitting in a comfortable position he placed one hand on Geralt’s head.
“Hold on,” Geralt said as he gripped Jaskier’s legs and slowly stood up. The bard giggled as he started to wobble a bit, but Geralt held on tight to his legs and placed his own feet firmly on the ground for better balance.
“That is fun,” Jaskier said, patting Geralt’s head, “we should do that more often.”
Geralt grunted. “Not gonna happen. Are you finished?”
“No,” Jaskier replied, “you need to go one... two steps to the right...yes, that is perfect! One moment.”
Geralt could feel the small movements of Jaskier’s body as he stretched up to the wooden beam to hang up the mistletoe.
Jaskier put one hand back on Geralt’s head and said, “you can put me down again, love.”
Slowly Geralt sank down to one knee once more and Jaskier climbed down.
Geralt stood up and turned around and in that moment the hook in the beam came loose and the sprigs of mistletoe fell down - right on the bard.
Geralt smirked at Jaskier’s indignant squeal at the unexpected shower of mistletoe. There were leaves and berries in his hair and on his shoulders.
Jaskier pouted and looked heartbroken for a second before his gaze fell upon Geralt.
Geralt’s expression softened and he said, “I’ll help you get the stuff out of your hair.”
He made a step towards him but was stopped by a hand on his chest.
“Oh no,” Jaskier said, “it’s bad luck, you have to kiss me first.”
Geralt looked at him for a moment and asked, “kiss you?”
“Yes.” Now he was smiling mischievously.
Geralt pointed at the beam where the hook had been, “you didn’t want to kiss me when you hung up the mistletoe and we were directly under it.”
“We were just hanging it up, that doesn’t count.” Jaskier grinned.
Geralt’s eyes wandered over Jaskier’s face, up to his hair and to his shoulders, surveying the mistletoe till they landed on Jaskier’s eyes again. Geralt cocked his head and hummed.
Very quiet now Jaskier said, “actually you should give me a kiss for every leave you remove, just to be on the safe side.”
Geralt licked his lips and swallowed.
“Just to be on the safe side,” he echoed. He was standing directly in front of Jaskier now. He smiled softly and expectantly up at him.
So Geralt lifted his hand and carefully picked one leaf from his shoulder. He let the leaf fall to the ground, leaned forward and placed a kiss on the same spot, feeling the smooth silk of Jaskier’s doublet under his lips. Jaskier stood still, eyes closed with a smile on his face.
Geralt reached up and picked one of the white berries out of the brown hair and placed a kiss on that spot too. Jaskier hummed contentedly.
But a moment later Geralt took a sudden step back when he heard footsteps from the hall. Jaskier blinked his eyes open as Eskel walked in. The dark haired witcher stopped in the door and grinned as he saw the mistletoe mess on and around the bard.
“What happened here?”
As Jaskier started to tell him, Geralt sneaked out, walking fast to his room. He shook his head. What did just happen?
--------
Some time later he heard a knock on his door. It was Jaskier. Instantly he started to talk about the rest of the decorations he had put up and the mulled wine he had prepared. He walked through Geralt’s room, gesturing wildly.
He behaved as if nothing had happened earlier. Maybe it had been nothing, Geralt wondered.
Then Jaskier stopped in front of Geralt’s window and looked out into the dark, back to the witcher.
That was when Geralt noticed it. A small sprig of mistletoe neatly tied in the velvet bow on Jaskier’s pants, right above his butt. His very well rounded butt.
Geralt inhaled sharply and he tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly very dry. Jaskier turned around to him, a knowing smile on his face.
“Have you discovered my...decoration?”, he said in a voice as soft as the velvet bow, “I think the green goes rather nicely with the burgundy, don’t you think?” He pointed to his pants and wiggled his butt for emphasis.
Geralt hummed. He took a few steps towards him before he finally said in a rough voice, “do you need me to...help you remove it?”
This time Jaskier hummed. “First I need your help here…” he said as he made the last step towards Geralt.
Jaskier lifted one hand and the witcher saw that he was holding another sprig of mistletoe in it. Slowly Jaskier brushed it over his own lips. Geralt’s eyes traced the movement.
“It would be bad luck if I wouldn’t,” Geralt said in a low voice.
“Bad luck,” Jaskier repeated.
Slowly Geralt lifted his hand and cupped Jaskier’s cheek. And then he was leaning forward and pressed his lips softly to Jaskier’s.
The breath that escaped the bard’s lips sounded almost like a moan before he leaned into the kiss.
--------
Check out my master list for more of my fics
Tag list: @jaskierswolf @geraskier-trashh @hailhailsatan @panerato @marvagon @x-anxious @moonysourenza @kaktusbambus @wildonewrites @dapandapod @honeysuckletook @thecomfortofoldstorries @electricrituals @broken-verses @vampire--dad @whenrainbowsend @geralt-of-riviass @sleepy-thief @artistsfuneral @hriive @stinastar @innocentbi-stander @darkangel91939 @in-love-with-writing002 @fandommagpie @fontegagrilledcheese @kozkaboi @nonegenderleftpain @veritasrose @havenoffandoms @feral-jaskier @llamasdumpsterfire @dhwty-writes @your-lordsherlockholmes-posts (let me know if I should put you on or remove you from my tag list)
The eleventh prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts
Prompt List
Words: 2195
Summary: Zelda decides to try her hand at the mistletoe tradition, and it doesn’t go as planned.
BotW pre-calamity
Zelink-mas 2020 l Masterlist
For once, all inhabitants of the castle were worried about something other than the impending Calamity. It was still in the background and hovering over the kingdom like a storm cloud, but even her father had let up on his strict insistence of her training now that the holidays were edging closer. Zelda always favored this time of year. Seeing the halls of the castle decorated with holly and glittering fairies made her heart swell. It always gave her the impression that things were going to be okay. The staff putting up a tree the size of a pyre in the Great Hall made her smile. Everything about the holidays reminded her of her mother and of the fun they had when they took the time to decorate.
It was just a shame she couldn’t marvel at the décor today, because she had a plan in mind. Well, it was more of an impulsive decision than anything. It took less than a year, when she really paid attention, for her to catch on to the maidens and their habits. She wasn’t sure where they’d gotten it from, but she saw bundles of mistletoe tucked into doorways and corners as if they were trying to catch a knight under one. She heard their quiet giggles as she passed them, and she even caught a pair one year, proving that some still held to the tradition. Zelda managed to snag a bit for herself, and now she was walking through the halls as fast as her feet could carry her without looking suspicious. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and her hands were shaking, but she’d already committed to her idea. She couldn’t just give up now. What would she do with the mistletoe then? Return it? She had no idea how she managed to get it in the first place, and she wasn’t stealthy enough to sneak it back.
Zelda shut the doors of her bedroom behind her and leaned back against them, eyeing the green bundle of leaves and white berries in her hand. It began to dawn on her then just how incredibly stupid and inappropriate this was.
A wave of nervous nausea hit her and she held the plant tighter. This was never going to work. For the mistletoe tradition to be effective, both parties had to give consent. She really had nothing to go off of that made her think Link would want to kiss her. Why in Hylia’s sake did she grab this?
A knock on the door startled her out of her mental scolding and she jumped away from it with very warm cheeks.
“Yes?” she called out, though she dreaded the voice that would answer. Link always came by around this time--she’d memorized it to the nearest second and sure enough, his voice carried through the oak doors back to her.
“It’s me, Princess.” Of course it was.
Zelda quickly tossed the plant onto her vanity, but she had nothing to cover it with. The best she could do was stuff it between the mirror and the top of the table, and hope he didn’t see it. She nearly tripped trying to get back to her chair--where she wouldn’t look so suspicious.
“Come in,” she called, dropping into the seat just as her door swung open.
“I-- are you alright?” Link crossed the room in seconds so that he could crouch before her with furrowed eyebrows. “Your face is red.” His hands, far gentler than they should’ve been with how calloused they were, held her cheeks, and then her forehead. Goddesses, did he have to be so stupid?
“I’m fine,” she assured, but she made no effort to bat his hands away. “It’s just a little warm.”
“Are you sure you don’t have a fever?” he asked. It took all of her willpower but this time, she took his hands and pulled them away from her face in the hopes that he stopped asking so many questions.
“I think I would know if I were sick, but thank you for the concern.”
Link still looked skeptical, but he dropped the subject and sat himself on the floor as if there wasn’t a chair behind him. A chair she’d brought into her room specifically for him.
“Delivery from Purah,” he said at last and extended the Sheikah Slate to her. Zelda snatched it eagerly and activated it, tapping away so she could discover whatever the little genius had uncovered.
“The Sheikah Sensor?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Purah said there’s a compendium programmed into the Slate. You can register anything into it from plants to monsters by using that ruin there--it creates real time images, and the sensor will track whatever you set it to.”
“Brilliant,” Zelda mused. “This could be incredibly useful in finding rare herbs for medicine, or perhaps even other Sheikah relics! If we captured, say, a guardian, do you think it would help us uncover more? Did Purah mention anything about it?”
“I’m just the messenger,” Link replied with his hands up in defense. “Technology is your thing, Princess.”
“Some use you are,” she joked as she searched for whatever rune would allow her to capture her surroundings in real time. She wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but she lifted the Slate to find Link on the screen as if it were a reflection. “Smile.”
He blinked, but she snapped the image before he could do anything else. A smaller image popped up over the picture, zoomed in on the handle peeking out over his shoulder. In small text read the words ‘Master Sword’. She handed it over eagerly, itching to know how it knew the name of something so specific. It was programmed in without a doubt, but how had the Sheikah managed such an impressive feat?
“So if I captured you on the Slate, do you think it would say ‘goddess blood’?” he asked, panning the device to her. Zelda raised her hands in front of her face.
“I highly doubt it,” she replied. “I don’t think it would be that specific.”
“I wonder.. how far can it capture?”
Before she could think to stop him, Link was on his feet and adventuring around the room, pointing the Slate at anything he could find. Zelda stumbled after him, nearly tripping on the hem of her skirt.
“I thought technology was my thing,” she accused, reaching for the relic.
“It’s not detecting much,” he replied with a shrug, spinning to face her. “But it catches the bow.”
Ah, right. The royal guard’s bow that sat on the mantle of her fireplace. The same bow that Link had once gifted her, but she never thought to hide it until he was already in her room, and he never said a thing about it to make her want to take it down.
“Register it,” she said with a shrug. “But I believe it’ll be quite impossible to fill. There are thousands of things across Hyrule that it may recognize.”
“We could do it,” he answered, glancing over to her before doing a double take back to the Slate. It wasn’t until he started walking towards her vanity that she realized what it might’ve picked up. All previous color drained from her face and she resisted the urge to curl up and hide. Could she fake innocence?
“What is it?” she asked, but her voice was hardly as convincing as she would’ve liked it to be.
“Mistletoe..?” He pulled it from its pathetic hiding spot and lifted it so he could get a better look. Zelda took a shaky breath.
“It’s odd how mistletoe and holly get mixed up to this day,” she rambled, fiddling with the sleeves of her dress. “One incorrect depiction led to the red berries being associated with mistletoe. I thought perhaps I could study both plants and see what further differences exist so we might correct that misconception.”
Link looked—well, she wasn’t quite sure how he looked. He could be impossible to read when he wanted to be, and it made her hate how much of an open book she was by comparison. He probably saw right through her, could read every twitch of her hands and every movement of her eyes. He crossed over to her, setting him close enough to press the bundle into her hands.
“Your business is your business, Princess,” he said at last as he took a step back. “But for your research, it’s more effective to hang it up.”
“Link, I-“ Zelda stepped forwards, reaching a hand out to him before letting it fall back to her side. There would really be no going back from this, no matter what she said or did. Her impulsivity got her into this mess, and she had no idea if it would get her out. She’d never flirted a day in her life. But she took a breath and lifted the mistletoe high above her head. “Care to prove your hypothesis?”
Link’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t move. He was as quiet as ever, and she was starting to lose her nerve. Should she laugh and say that she was joking? Should she pretend a maid had left it behind?
“I-“ But she didn’t get much more out before she was interrupted.
“Princess, I-.. you’re not serious.” But he sounded unsure of himself.
“I am,” she stuttered and lowered her arm, holding the plant piece to her chest. “But it’s a silly tradition, and it’s never stated that you have to partake in it. You’re free to decline if you so wish and if I have caused any discomfort, I offer my sincerest apologies.”
“Zelda.” Her heart stopped in her chest. He never addressed her without the formalities attached. “If you wanted to kiss me, I’m in no position to deny you.”
“No,” she said immediately, resisting the urge to drop and stomp on the mistletoe. “You have every right to refuse.”
“I don’t want to.”
Zelda blinked and wondered if she’d really heard him right, or if she’d wake up to find herself alone at late hours in the morning. Of all the ways she realistically saw this going, it was not like this.
“I..” But she didn’t know what else to say.
Link enveloped her hand and gently pried the plant from it. With a faint smile that could only be described as sheepish, he held it above their heads.
“I want to prove my hypothesis. It’s important to the research of the princess,” he said.
Zelda searched his eyes, but there was nothing betraying any thoughts or feelings he might’ve had. In a way, she was getting what she wanted, but it wasn’t worth it if he felt pressured or...
“Link..”
He took another small step forward, leaving little space between them. There was enough wait time for her to pull away, but instead her free hand came up and she brushed her fingers hesitantly over his cheek. His skin was so soft and warm. She wondered if his lips were the same. The thought sent her head spinning and her heart pounding and she decided she couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes were too blue and too pretty, and his breath on her lips made her shiver, and Zelda closed the space between them with a quick and hesitant kiss.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered, averting her gaze.
Link’s fingers grabbed her chin and gently lifted her head.
“I don’t think it was sufficient evidence,” he stated simply. “You always say a thorough experiment includes multiple trials.”
Her cheeks were burning hotter than they’d ever been before and she wondered for a moment if she did have a fever, because she was weak in her knees and the room felt very warm.
Instead of replying however, she grabbed the front of his champion’s tunic and pulled him into another kiss—this one far longer than the first. She let herself indulge a little, relishing in the fact that his lips indeed were as soft and warm as they looked. His arms hugged her waist, pressing her to him, and she let her fingers play with the hair in his little ponytail.
If anyone had told her that her ridiculous plan would work, Zelda would’ve laughed in their face.
When they finally parted, she dissolved into a fit of giggles and buried her face in his shoulder, because he was smiling at her and she felt like her heart was just going to burst.
“Was that sufficient evidence to back up your claim?” she asked. Link hummed in response.
“I don’t know. We might need to test it further,” he replied. Zelda squeaked out another laugh and lifted her head.
“You are insufferable.”
“And I’m keeping this,” Link replied as he waved the mistletoe in front of her face. She swatted at it with a huff.
“I thought I was using that for research. Steal your own.”
“Isn’t that what I just did?”
She rolled her eyes hard, but Link lifted the bundle above their heads with a cheeky grin, and she was in no place to deny him another kiss. A very Happy Hylia’s Day to her.
This is my @kidgesecretsanta gift for @floppyboats !
I went with the prompt, of “maybe Shiro and Matt secretly shipping them together...?” and I hope I did it justice. It sort of took on a world of its own. I hope you enjoy, and have/had a Merry Kidgemas!!
Cross-posted on AO3
Two figures sit on the porch of the Holt family’s house as snow continues to drift downward from the sky. They’re bundled up—winter jackets and pom-pom-topped hats to block out the occasional blustery wind. The steam from their hot cocoa gets wicked away by the frigid air as the smaller one leans against the other.
“You know what they’re doing, right?” Pidge asks, taking a sip of her cocoa. The fleeting warmth that floods her body is wonderful in the wintertime cold.
The taller one laughs, pulling her closer. “You mean the fact that Shiro and Matt have managed to somehow sneak mistletoe into almost every single doorway?”
Pidge hums in response. “I swear, Keith, if they’ve labeled this ‘Project Kidge’ or something…”
He snorts, pulling her close and resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re still sure that they don’t actually know we’re a couple?”
“Positive. One hundred percent.”
“Your mom and dad?”
She shrugs. “Dad’s known we’re a couple since he glanced at my phone two years ago.” At Keith’s look of surprise, she adds, “I put a heart next to your name in my phone once we started dating. He noticed. No doubt he’s mentioned it to Mom.”
“So, it’s just Shiro and Matt still trying to get us together?”
“Yup.”
“How long are we going to torture them?”
She grins, and her smile’s somewhere between malicious and playful. “Until we get caught under the mistletoe?”
A gust of wind spirals around them, sending crystalline snowflakes spiraling around them. The colorful Christmas lights on the Holt household catch in the diamond dust, illuminating the sky with dots of green and red. They both shiver as they finish up their cocoa, now barely lukewarm from the winter chill.
“Come on,” Keith says, extending a hand. “Let’s go inside.”
*
The Holt household has been the center of the holidays for over two decades, and even the decorations bring an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. The tree still has ornaments that were made during their elementary years, and remnants of old gifts have transitioned their way into festive ornamentation.
Keith and Pidge spend the better part of the evening deftly dodging ever-moving mistletoe, courtesy of Matt and Shiro. It’s almost laughable, if it weren’t for the fact that it causes them to be ever so vigilant.
It isn’t that they don’t want to be caught underneath the mistletoe. No, far from that. Pidge would actually enjoy a traditional kiss underneath mistletoe for once in their three years of a relationship.
Pidge smiles as she watches him play catch with Baebae, using a squeaky snowball toy to send the now-aging dog running up and down the hall like a puppy. Matt and Shiro have joined in, kneeling on the floor so that they can pick up Baebae and ruffle the dog’s fur. The Christmastime cold has finally seeped from her bones, a result of the thick green blanket and fireplace. Her laughter at everyone’s endearing antics has he laughter echoing through the household, and the smiles she earns from her parents have her beaming back just as broadly.
Eventually, she and Keith find themselves sitting together on the couch, limbs intertwined beneath her blanket. The conversation has turned to updates on everyone’s lives: Matt has begun work on a top-secret project involving an advanced artificial intelligence, Shiro has become one of the most esteemed flight school teachers in the world, and her parents are finishing up their final years before reaching retirement.
“So, what about you and Katie?” her dad asks Keith.
“Katie’s doing a bunch of freelance stuff—coding webpages and working on projects,” he replies. “I’m working with an aeronautics program. I started about a month ago.”
“Advantage to working for the same company,” Pidge adds, smiling, “I finally have someone who can understand what I’m talking about and tolerate my work hours.”
“You mean working until who-knows-when in the morning because you don’t know the meaning of taking a break?” The exasperation in his voice is also affectionate and teasing; they’ve been attached at the hip for years, so this is just natural progression.
Matt just rolls his eyes. “You’re like a married couple. Minus the gross PDA.”
Pidge arches an eyebrow at her brother, who stubbornly refuses to make eye contact after his comment.
Noting the change in the room, Colleen Holt calls for dinner to be served, and beckons everyone in to the dining room.
*
It’s late at night by the time the day’s exhaustion begins to catch up to everyone. Pidge is half-asleep, curled up in a blanket and tucked warmly beneath Keith’s arm. Shiro and Matt have begun to pack away their respective presents, grabbing their blankets and shuffling away to the upstairs rooms. Just like when they were children, there’s extra space in their bedrooms so Shiro’s crashing on an air mattress in Matt’s room, and Keith has been given some space in Pidge’s room. Pidge’s parents have ventured to their bedroom after cleaning the last bits of shredded wrapping paper and ribbon from the room.
They’re the last two lingering in the room, as the once-blazing fire has fizzled to a combination of ash and crackling embers. The lights have since been shut off, and the only source of illumination comes from the half-dead fire and the lights from the tree. Keith shakes her shoulder, pulling her from a half-asleep daze.
“C’mon, Pidge, we’re going to bed.”
She wraps an arm around his waist, “I don’t want to go to sleep.”
“It’s not like we’re kids, waiting for Santa.” He presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Remember the year we stayed up all night? That was before you moved to your mom’s house. Didn’t we go through almost a hundred—”
“I still can’t look at candy canes,” Keith says with a scowl. “Even two decades later. The sheer amount of mint is evil.”
Pidge chuckles. “We crashed so hard after that sugar rush.”
“Despite the fact that it ruined candy canes for the rest of my life, it’s still one of my favorite holiday memories.”
Pidge laughs, finally standing up. She tugs on Keith’s hand, slowly leading them towards her bedroom. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, grinning up at him.
“What, Pidge? Why are you smiling like that?”
She points up at the mistletoe above their heads.
“Oh.”
Pidge stands on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, as Keith leans down to press a kiss to her lips.
“Merry Christmas, Keith.”
“Merry Christmas, Pidge.”
“You know what?” Pidge says, “I think this is my favorite memory.”
There’s a low whistle from the top of the stairs. “Sure took you two long enough!”
“Shut up, Matt, I’m allowed to kiss my boyfriend!”
The look on her brother’s face is priceless.
There’s the sound of something crashing to the ground as Shiro shouts, “Wait, your boyfriend?”
