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Ugly Sweaters Are Essential

Summary:

All he had to do was open his mouth and explain that Eleanor was just delivering some cookies for Christmas and things would be fine.

Instead, John opened his mouth and without warning or any thought whatsoever, blurted, “Nope, not interrupting anything. This is Eleanor and she’s… well, we’re… she’s my girl…friend.”

You could have heard a pin drop, the room was so quiet. Eleanor’s eyes were wide, her mouth subtly gaping and Joseph was no better, staring at his brother was astonishment and more than a little disbelief.

“Girlfriend?” he repeated slowly.

Notes:

This is pure, self indulgent Christmas trash, I'm not sorry

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Truth be told, John wasn’t entirely sure what drew him into the little bakery across the road from his high rise apartment that first time. He’d walked past it every day for almost four years, and while it always smelled delightful (vanilla, chocolate and spice and something warm and inviting he could never quite put his finger on) he’d never once been tempted to set foot inside. It wasn’t that John was above such temptation - Lord knew he had plenty of vices he’d indulged in in the past, but baked goods weren’t exactly one of them.

And yet, for whatever reason, he found himself standing in the queue just after 11am on a Tuesday morning when he really should have been at work.

That was the day he met Eleanor. 

John considered himself to be a charming man. He knew how to put people at ease, to sway them to his way of thinking, how to make himself likeable. Every smile was crafted with a purpose, calculated with intent. 

Eleanor radiated happiness, it shined through her seemingly without her even being aware of it.  She was pretty in a ‘girl next door’ kind of way, her brunette curls piled up into a messy bun, her apron dusted with flour and what he could only assume to be chocolate cake batter, and the moment he stepped up to the counter her blue green eyes met his and she gave him a warm, glowing smile.

“Hi, what can I get you?” 

For a split second, John Seed was struck dumb. Later, in the comfort of his own home and far away from the pretty baker and her delightful smile, he’d blame his reaction on the whatever funky mood he’d been in for the past few days, but in that moment as he met her gaze, John’s mind went utterly blank. 

Panic set in. 

His eyes darted down to the case line, scanning the assorted pastries and cakes for something (anything) to choose, but his mind just refused to cooperate. He hadn’t known why he’d walked into the bakery in the first place, and now he was there he didn’t have a fucking clue what he actually wanted. The longer he stood there, staring at the counter like it was supposed to hold some kind of answer for him, the more awkward things became.

In the end he’d just shoved a twenty into her hands, “Uh, surprise me, I guess.”

Her head had quirked, a little wrinkle appearing between her brows as she regarded him with bewildered amusement, but to her credit she didn’t say a word as she picked out a two pastries and a little cake, popping them into a little box and wrapping a bow around the outside.

“Keep the change,” he muttered as she handed him the box, practically fleeing the shop before he could make an even bigger fool of himself, ignoring the bemused, ‘Have a nice day?’ she called out after him.

As John slammed the door to his apartment shut and dropped the box on his coffee table, he brushed off his momentary lapse in, well, everything as a one off and resolved to never set foot in the bakery again so he wouldn’t look like an idiot. It was a resolve which lasted all of two hours; the length of time it took for hunger and curiosity to win out and for him to open the box and see what she’d chosen.

An almond croissant, a slice of salted caramel apple pie and a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting.

They were gone in twenty minutes.

Two days later John walked back into that bakery praying to all that was holy that the pretty baker wouldn’t be there. Just like last time, there was a queue out the door, and when John once again found himself at the front of the line, there she was. Recognition lit up her eyes and she smiled as she took his order.

“I was wondering if I’d see you again,” she laughed as she boxed up the berry pie he’d chosen. 

John’s stomach fluttered, but he returned her smile with the charming grace he’d perfected, “Hadn’t planned on it, I’m not really a muffins and pastries kind of guy.”

Her hands, midway through the bow, stilled. She quirked an eyebrow, staring him down in mock disbelief. “Yet here you are.”

His grin widened, “Yet here I am. No thanks to you, I suppose - you picked well.”

Neither of them seemed to be particularly concerned about the queue of customers behind him, growing bigger and slightly more irritated with each passing second.

“Well I have been told that I have excellent taste,” she said, “but I’m glad you approve.”

“Second only to your baking, I assume?” he asked, resting his forearm against the countertop as he leaned in close, passing her his Amex card.

She laughed again, the faintest hint of a rosy blush painting her cheeks. “If you say so.”

He pointedly ignored the muttered grumblings of the middle aged man standing directly behind him in the line. “I do,” he replied, relishing the way she beamed from his praise. “I’m John, by the way.”

“Eleanor,” she said, sliding him over his box. “Have a good day, John.”

And so began a routine. Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, John would stop by the bakery on his way to work. 

At first, he reasoned that it was about the food. There was no point denying it, Eleanor’s baking was divine. John had tried nearly everything she had to offer, he had his favourites of course, but regardless of what he picked (or let Eleanor choose) it was always sinfully good. 

And maybe he was just trading habits, searching for some semblance of an indulgence, even if it was just in a bit of a sugar rush.

There were worse habits to have.

It seemed like no matter how stressful work became, not to mention the added pressures of not one but both of his brothers now living in the same city, John found a little bit of a peace, twice a week in that little bakery.

But it wasn’t her baking that kept him coming back, or at least, not just her baking.

It was her; Eleanor Rook.

They weren’t exactly friends, John barely knew her outside of the little five minute windows of time they shared twice a week, but there was just something about her. 

John was surrounded by self absorbed sociopaths and sycophants, money hungry assholes who’d smile and shake his hand, knowing full well they’d gladly throw him off a cliff if it meant furthering their own interests. His bosses loved him because he made them money, he wasn’t naïve, their praise and goodwill only lasted as long as his success did. His friends and colleagues, they hated him almost as much as they envied him. Sure they’d drink with him, snort coke and party with him until the early hours of the morning, but they didn’t actually like him.

The women he slept with were vain and vapid, beautiful undoubtedly, but they either wanted him for sex or money, status or a trophy. They didn’t adore him, they adored what he could give them. 

His brothers and sister… well, they at least loved him, though sometimes he wondered if it might not be easier for everyone involved if they didn’t.

Eleanor existed outside of all of that. She didn’t want anything from him, expect anything from him. She made him laugh and she always, without fail, smiled when she saw him. There was no need to pretend to be anything other than what he was.

He didn’t realise quite how much he liked that, or how much he liked her.

In hindsight, everything that happened next was Jacob’s fault. It wasn’t unusual for his eldest brother to stop by his apartment out of the blue, usually to ‘drop something off’. John was well aware that it was just an excuse, a paper thin one at that, to check up on him, so he normally didn’t mind.

He wasn’t using anymore, there were no dirty little secrets hiding away in his apartment, and outside of the occasional pair of panties that had been forgotten in the haste of an early morning exit, nothing all that scandalous.

Joseph at least attempted to stop by when he thought John might be home, Jacob didn’t seem to have that same compulsion. Normally, John didn’t mind, while he was a little insulted that Jacob didn’t trust him when he said that he was done, he knew that it came from a good place - Jacob cared, in his own way. 

So no, he didn’t really give a shit that Jacob stopped by when he wasn’t there, he did however, care when his brother decided to help himself to the food in John’s kitchen. The one time he decided to leave the extra Christmas tree shaped brownie Eleanor had snuck him at home-

Needless to say, he was less than pleased.

His fingers flew across the keyboard on his phone as he typed the message, hitting send with a little more vigour than perhaps needed.

You little thieving shit!

Two whole hours later, Jacob deigned to reply.

This about that brownie? 

He didn’t respond immediately, and after another minute or so, the three dots appeared once more.

It was a damned good brownie, Johnny, m’not sorry

John was just about to hit send on a particularly expletive ridden reply when a third message came through:

You might’ve been too young, but you remember when mom used to bake at Christmas? Brought back some memories, I guess

John didn’t reply to that, didn’t really know what to say, but he figured that Jacob wasn’t waiting for one. Maybe it was just because Christmas was only two weeks out and like every year it was hard to avoid the memories, both the good and the not so good. Knowing his brother, John suspected that he’d probably regretted the message as soon as it had been sent.

The thing was, John did remember. Back before things got really bad, when their mother still made an effort to act like she wasn’t just a shell, she loved Christmas. It was the only time John ever remembered having home baked treats. John even remembered one year when their dad wasn’t home, she’d given him an apron of his own and enlisted him as her ‘little helper’. In all fairness he probably did more harm than good, but it was probably the only good Christmas he could remember.

And it gave him an idea.

When he bounced into the bakery the following Thursday he had a particular spring in his step. When he got to the counter Eleanor wasn’t there, but her co-worker, a blonde girl whose name John had never bothered to learn, just sighed, rolling her eyes at the sight of him. “She’s busy out the back, what do you want?”

He cleared his throat, offering her a charming smile that said something along the lines of, ‘I don’t have to be in Court until 12, I’ll wait.’

The girl, perfectly pleasant with literally every other customer, scowled at him, huffed and turned on her heel to march away. 

Not a minute later Eleanor emerged, her eyes lighting up as a smile graced her face. “John!”

Warmth flooded his veins and he softened, “Hey, so uh, I was wondering if you could do me a favour?”

Eleanor’s eyebrow quirked, “A favour?” she repeated.

He laughed, “Well, I’d pay you for it, so not so much a favour as a… request.”

Which is what brought Eleanor to his apartment just after 7pm on the night before Christmas Eve, three full boxes of Christmas cookies in her arms.

She looked… beautiful, her curls loose around her shoulders, wearing an oversized periwinkle sweater that brought out the blue in her eyes. Her cheeks were dusted an inviting pink and her lips almost red from the cold. 

“I believe I only ordered two boxes. There’s four of us, exactly how many cookies do you think we’re going to eat?” he asked with a laugh as stepped aside to let her inside.

Eleanor grinned, “Well, if their sweet tooth is as bad as yours I figured it was better to be safe than sorry.”

John just sighed dramatically, shaking his head, “I do not have a sweet tooth, okay? I just happen to like your baking.” She snorted, and he pointedly ignored it. “So how much do I owe you then?”

“Just for the two, $20 like we agreed,” she said, setting the boxes down on his coffee table.

He frowned, “But-”

“Consider it a Christmas gift,” she paused, her eyes searching his face for a moment and if John didn’t know better, he would have sworn the blush on her cheeks deepened. “For my favourite customer.”

John’s stomach knotted, his own cheeks turning pink. “I’ll uh, be right back. Just gotta grab my um… wallet.” And before Eleanor could even open her mouth to reply, he darted away into his bedroom. 

She just watched him leave with a peculiar if not fond expression, taking the opportunity to study his apartment. She only saw John in his suits on his way to work, she’d never thought she’d ever see inside his home, and sue her, she was curious. 

Sliding off her gloves and shoving them into the pocket of her jeans she walked over to the living room. John had taste, that much was clear, but she wasn’t quite sure what kind of taste that was. Everything looked expensive and shiny, from the huge flatscreen TV to the glass coffee table. The art that decorated his apartment was beautiful, but it seemed like it was there just because it looked good and was tasteful, not because it evoked any particular emotions of sentimentality. It didn’t feel like there was anything there that was John - hell, the only thing that seemed to have any personal connection whatsoever was a framed picture sitting on the edge of the TV unit. Smiling softly, Eleanor walked over and picked it up - it was John and, presumably, his family. He looked happy, not quite smiling but clearly at ease. Curious, her eyes flickered to the three other figures, two men and a woman standing by his side.

She was so caught up in the photo, a glimpse of a side of John that she’d never seen before, that she didn’t hear the sound of the door opening, only the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she quickly put down the picture and whirled around to find a familiar looking man standing there, eyeing her with curiosity. It took her a moment to realise that the reason he seemed so familiar, what with the man bun and piercing blue eyes, was because she’d just been looking at a photo of him. He was one of John’s brothers. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m looking for John?” he said with a polite smile, though the odd expression didn’t quite leave his face. 

Eleanor blushed, feeling like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar. She could only imagine how this looked, some random lady he’d never seen before standing in the middle of his brother’s apartment, nosing through his possessions. “Oh, he’s just-”

“Here, Joseph,” John called, cutting her off as he emerged from his bedroom. 

Joseph’s gaze flickered between the two of them. John knew his brother all too well, and while he’d never outright say as much, John knew exactly what conclusions were forming in his head. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time Joseph had walked in just as one of John’s dalliances were walking out, and he could see the gears turning behind those blue eyes. Admittedly, Eleanor didn’t quite have the same look about her as most of John’s hookups did.

“Ah, I can see that I’ve… interrupted something,” Joseph murmured.

If John didn’t know his brother so well, he might have missed the subtle searching look in his eyes as they flickered across the room.

His gut clenched painfully as he realised what it was that Joseph was looking for - the signs of a hand off. Because if Eleanor wasn’t sleeping with John, then what other reason did she have to be in his apartment? 

John didn’t have friends, Joseph knew that.

He’d told them that he was clean, he wasn’t using anymore - he was done with that part of his life, but they still didn’t trust him. It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

The truth was far less scandalous, all he had to do was open his mouth and explain that Eleanor was just delivering some cookies for Christmas and things would be fine.

Instead, John opened his mouth and without warning or any thought whatsoever, blurted, “Nope, not interrupting anything. This is Eleanor and she’s… well, we’re… she’s my girl…friend.”

You could have heard a pin drop, the room was so quiet. Eleanor’s eyes were wide, her mouth subtly gaping and Joseph was no better, staring at his brother was astonishment and more than a little disbelief.

“Girlfriend?” he repeated slowly.

What was so wrong in saying that she was delivering cookies?! What the fuck had possessed him to say-

But it didn’t matter. The words were out there now, there were no take backs. Once again, John Seed had managed to firmly shove his own foot in his mouth.

Eleanor was going to hate him for this. “Yep,” he said, walking across the room towards her. To her credit, she didn’t flinch away when he stopped at her side, sliding an arm around her waist, pulling her close and - please don’t hate me for this, he prayed silently - pressed a chaste kiss against her flushed cheek.

Oh god.

“Girlfriend,” he confirmed. “A-and she’ll be coming with me to Jake’s for Christmas. I um… may have forgotten to mention that.”

Eleanor smiled with practiced ease, letting her head fall against John’s shoulder, “If that’s okay of course. I don’t want to intrude.”

He could have kissed her… Again.

For a moment, his older brother just stared, clearly at a loss for words, but eventually something softened in his gaze, and when he smiled again it was far more genuine.

“Of course you’re welcome, the more the merrier. I look forward to getting to know the woman who’s captured my little brother’s heart.”

John barely suppressed a groan as Eleanor laughed at his side. “He talks about you guys a lot, it’ll be nice to finally meet everyone,” she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, her expression soft and loving and good god it gave him butterflies. 

“I don’t suppose that he told you, but we do have a dress code for Christmas.”

Oh no.

Eleanor’s eyes lit up as John’s stomach sank.

“Ugly sweaters are essential.”

This time he didn’t hold back his groan. Out of all of them, it was only ever Joseph and Faith who insisted on wearing those hideous things and every year John and Jacob were forced to bend to the will of their siblings. 

This was definitely some kind of punishment for his past sins. If it was Jacob there instead of Joseph he might have laughed at the scowl on John’s face, but Joseph wasn’t that cruel. 

“He neglected to mention that, but thank you. I have one or two sweaters that might do the trick,” she said with a grin, snuggling up to his side.

And Joseph actually chuckled, smiling fondly at her. “Wonderful. Well I guess I’ll see you both there. It was nice meeting you Eleanor. Truly.”

She beamed at him, “You too.”

“Wait, you’re not staying? Did you need something?” he asked with a frown. Surely his brother hadn’t trekked halfway across the city for no reason whatsoever.

When Joseph met his gaze there was something unreadable in his eyes, but he just smiled and shook his head. “No, nothing that can’t wait. Have a good night, John.” And with a parting glance at Eleanor, Joseph left.

Silence hung heavy in the air as the door swung shut behind him. Quickly he disentangled himself from her, practically leaping away to put as much space between them as he could.

John was panicking, desperately wracking his brains for something, anything that he could say to make this better but the words just wouldn’t come. He couldn’t look at her, though he felt the weight of her burning gaze on him. Instead, he stared at the ground, cursing himself for his own stupidity. He was a lawyer goddamnit! He was supposed to be able to think on his feet, to take a curveball like that without breaking a sweat, but the words had slipped out before he’d even realised he’d said them, and she must think he was an absolute fucking idiot, if not a creep, and what the hell was he supposed to say now?! He’d fucked it up, and any moment now she was going to turn on her heel and walk out, if she didn’t slap him first and maybe he deserved that, but-

Out of nowhere, Eleanor started giggling. Surprise, more than anything else, forced John to lift his eyes and look at her, but instead of the disdain or revulsion he expected to see written across her face, Eleanor looked positively tickled.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she asked, amusement dancing in her eyes.

John’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it as he gave her a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, I uh, panicked I guess. It was the first thing that popped into my head.” 

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

John’s cheeks flamed red, “Obviously, all that stuff about Christmas day and me bringing you and you being my um, uh-”

“Girlfriend?” she helpfully supplied, grinning wider as John cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Yes, thank you for that. What I meant was that I was just- well, you don’t have to come. I know you’ve probably got your own things to do, and I don’t want to make this any weirder than it already is-”

Eleanor held up a hand and John fell hopelessly silent. “I don’t have any plans for Christmas,” she said.

John’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re not celebrating with your family?”

He regretted the words almost immediately when gave an almost imperceptible wince, something tightening in her eyes.

“No family left, just… me.”

John studied her for a moment, but didn’t pass comment. He could put two and two together, and he knew better than most that unless she volunteered the information, it was best not to pry. Instead, he breezed right past it, “You’d have to pretend to be my girlfriend. I can almost guarantee that Joseph’s already told the others.”

Slowly, the smile returned to her face, “I think I can manage that for one day.”

One day. Yeah.

“Alright.” He cleared his throat, “Will you, Eleanor, come to my weird family’s Christmas and pretend to be my girlfriend for the day?”

“I will.”

He chuckled with her, ignoring the racing of his heart and fluttering in his stomach.

The next day flew by far quicker than it should have, and suddenly, it was Christmas. He’d spent the night before getting all of his gifts wrapped and trying to psych himself up for what was undoubtedly going to be a disaster. He’d half convinced himself that she wasn’t going to show up. He’d made an absolute idiot of himself, not to mention she probably thought he was some weird stalker with a crush after that display.

He’d kissed her! 

If she ever let him back into her bakery it’d be a miracle.

And yet at 11:30 on the dot, there was a knock at his door. He’d opened the door with trembling hands, and there she stood, looking lovelier than she had any right to. Eleanor had clearly taken his brother’s words to heart, because not only was she wearing a blue and red patterned sweater with snowmen and reindeers decorating it, but she was also sporting a fluffy Santa hat.

She looked ridiculous, and the very sight of her made John’s knees weak.

“You look… uh, lovely,” he said.

She raised a single eyebrow, running her eyes over John’s own outfit, mysteriously devoid of any Christmas apparel, ugly sweater or otherwise. 

“You’re not ready?” she asked pointedly.

He frowned, glancing down at his clothes and then back at her. “Of course I’m ready.”

She sighed, shaking her head with mock disappointment. “Where’s your sweater John? More to the point, where is your Christmas spirit?”

And for a moment his heart stuttered. There was a reason that Joseph and Faith insisted on the stupid sweaters and it wasn’t because it was funny or in any way a good look, but it was because it was their attempt in making Christmas not… shit. Was she expecting a grandly decorated tree with carols playing in the background? Did she think there were going to be Christmas wreaths on the walls and a fully cooked three course meal waiting for them? Christmas wasn’t exactly a fondly remembered time in the Seed family, but they were trying, at least.

It was enough of a struggle getting Jacob to put up a tree at all. 

But Eleanor just took his silence in stride, setting down her bag and opening it. She spent a second or two rifling through it before she victoriously pulled out something red, white and green and tossed it at John.

Eyes wide and horror in his heart he wordlessly unfurled it, fighting off his revulsion as he realised that what she’d chucked him was a sweater.

“Figured you’d be about a medium,” she said with a smirk. “No boyfriend of mine is going to turn up at his family’s weird Christmas without the proper attire.”

It was the ugliest thing John had ever seen. Striped with a hideous ‘festive’ pattern and covered with white snowflakes, the true crowning glory was the blue knitted tie (with frosty the fucking snowman front and centre!) and suspenders they’d stuck on seemingly as an afterthought. It was horrific, but one look at Eleanor’s all too pleased grin, John knew that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

He sighed and reluctantly marched back into his apartment to get changed.

Eleanor’s delighted cackle when he emerged did not make him feel any better about the situation. Surely this was what hell felt like.

“The things I do for love,” he moaned as he picked up the cookies she’d delivered earlier, taking another bag from her and ushering them out of the apartment.

He almost missed the indulgent smile she shot him as they stepped inside the elevator.

They were both pretty quiet on the ride over, John had questioned why on earth she needed so many bags-

“Presents. And dessert!”

He’d raised an eyebrow, “Dessert? But you already made the cookies!”

“Yes, but you paid for those. Besides, I had nothing else to do yesterday.”

And quickly went over their dating history-

“Just tell them an embellished version of the truth. We met at the bakery, except instead of you choking on your own tongue and sprinting away from me, you asked me out on a date.”

He’d snorted at her (not incorrect) recollection of their first meeting, but otherwise agreed.

Far too quickly they arrived outside of Jacob’s home. “You ready? They can be a bit… intense, but they’re good people, I promise.”

Eleanor reached over and grabbed his hand, entwining her fingers with his. “It’ll be fine John. And if not, you can always break up with me.”

“Darling, it’ll take a lot more than that to get me to break up with you,” he replied with a wink.

John’s heart was beating a mile a minute as they walked hand in hand up to the door. 

“Relax, John,” Eleanor murmured, reaching up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his bearded jaw as he knocked on the door. 

John’s eyes were fixed on Eleanor, a faint blush on cheeks when a moment later the door swung open to reveal Faith, wearing her own abominable sweater (penguin inspired, for god knew what reason). She squeaked with joy at the sight of him, launching herself at him and wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug which he returned.

“John, you’re here!” she beamed. 

“Where else would I be?” he muttered quietly as she let him go and turned her attention to Eleanor. 

“Hi, I’m-”

“Eleanor! Joseph told us,” Faith said, cutting her off as she pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. Oh, and Merry Christmas!”

John sighed as his little sister pulled away from a clearly taken off guard Eleanor. “Faith, my sister,” he supplied, picking up the bags once more and walking inside, leaving the two women to trail after him.

Both Jacob and Joseph were in the kitchen, working dutifully, but John’s attention was caught by the state of Jacob’s house. It was… decorated.

The tree, usually a sad and somewhat bare looking fir, was a staple every Christmas, but there was tinsel and garlands hanging from the walls, and was that mistletoe? Stockings hung over the fireplace and there was even a little mini tree fake silver branches sitting on the middle of the dining table.

“You just gonna stand there gaping like an idiot or you gonna introduce us, Johnny?” Jacob asked, snapping John out from his trance. 

Still a little stunned, John turned take Eleanor’s hand once more before turning back to face his eldest brother. “Jacob, this is Eleanor, my,” he paused for just a moment, a slow smile growing across his face as she squeezed his hand encouragingly. “My girlfriend. You might remember her as the woman who baked the brownie that you stole.” 

Jacob chuckled, shrugging unapologetically. “A man’s gotta eat.” His eyes flickered to her, piercing blue and intense, but his smile remained. “You bake like that again and you and me are gonna get along just fine, honey.”

He watched her light up, adorable dimples appearing on her cheeks as she grinned. “Thank you! And thanks for inviting me… sort of,” she said with a laugh, sharing a slightly sheepish look with John, who just shrugged as he led her further inside, dropping their bags on top of a spare seat to unload them. 

“Well, lucky for you, Jake,” he said, rummaging through to retrieve the boxes of cookies she’d dropped off two nights before. “My darling Eleanor spent all night baking cookies and a dessert of some kind so you won’t have to steal anything else from my kitchen for the time being.” 

“It’s a red velvet trifle,” she said as John carefully set it on the table. “Not everybody likes pudding but I wanted to make something festive and it’s one of my favourites so I figured that you guys might like it. I hope that’s okay?”

From the sound of Faith’s delighted gasp and Jacob’s appreciative grunt, it was more than okay. They might have a decent enough handle on cooking the main course, but John wouldn’t trust any of them with dessert, and they knew it as well as he did.

“It’s wonderful, thank you,” Joseph said, finally pulling himself away from the kitchen, taking off his apron as he walked over to greet them. John almost choked as he took in the garish sweater he’d chosen - suitably Christmas themed with a Rudolph’s face stuck smack bang in the middle, Christmas lights tangled in his antlers and, to top it off, Rudolph’s nose was lit up and glowing. He’d thought his sweater was bad, but Joseph’s took the cake.

But he didn’t utter a word, not as Joseph walked up to Eleanor and hugged her, “It’s good to see you again, I’m glad that you’re here.”

Eleanor beamed at him, “Me too.”

Faith returned a moment later, passing Eleanor a mug of hot mulled cider.

“It’s the best,” she promised, shoving one into John’s hands as well despite his refusal. “So Eleanor, how’d you two meet?”

He could only sit back and watch as Eleanor regaled them with their slightly embellished story, interjecting every so often with a comment or two - mostly to jokingly defend himself.

Truthfully he’d been worried about how she’d get along with his family, but he shouldn’t have been. Faith was easy to please, within about a minute and a half she had his sister giggling along with her. Joseph was generally welcoming to anyone, almost detrimentally so, but Jacob was a tougher nut to crack.

Still, John shouldn’t have worried. By the time Christmas lunch was up and ready, Jacob and Eleanor were deep into a conversation about baseball, of all things. Before they began eating she closed her eyes obligingly and led them all in saying Grace when Joseph asked her, her thumb brushing soothingly against the back of his palm as she held his hand. 

He watched as his older brothers thawed to her charms, and by the time dessert came around, they were practically putty in her hands. Unlike John’s skilful art of manipulation, Eleanor seemed entirely unaware of her effect on his family. Maybe they just saw what he did - that bright light that shone so beautifully whenever she smiled.

Whatever the reason, John found himself relaxing as the day wore on. Eleanor lit up the room, the awkwardness that usually accompanied their Christmases was nowhere to be found, and John saw his siblings smile, felt their joy and happiness like it was a physical presence. He laughed with his brothers when Eleanor and Faith decided to sing Christmas carols with accompanying dance moves.

Everything was going far better than he could have imagined, right up until Jacob settled into the couch beside him, a pensive look on his face. A flicker of unease passed through him, but he didn’t say a word, just took the beer that Jake offered him with half a smile.

“You think you can fool me, John?” he asked after a minute or two, raising the beer to his lips and taking a long sip, his eyes fixed on Eleanor chatting animatedly with Faith up at the kitchen table. 

John swallowed, praying that his brother wouldn’t be able to hear the pounding of his heart. “Hmm?”

Jacob shot him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Joseph told me about Eleanor yesterday. Do you think I’m an idiot? Joe might be willing to see past his better judgement for the sake of his own wishful thinking, but I’m not. I like her, don’t get me wrong, but I know your usual type John, and she,” he said, inclining his beer towards her, “is not it. You don’t date long term, you don’t bring home girls for the holidays.”

His stomach knotted, but he kept his face carefully blank as he took a slow sip of his own beer. He might have even been offended, if Jacob hadn’t hit the nail on the head so perfectly that it stung.

Jacob hummed thoughtfully, shrugging. “Which makes me wonder why she’s so special. Y’see, you’ve been happier over the past few months, we’ve all noticed. I thought it was because you were clean, without all those drugs fucking up your system you were finally starting to take care of yourself, but now I think there might’ve been another cause,” he said in a quiet voice.

Eleanor, feeling their eyes on her, glanced up and smiled, her nose scrunching up a little in the most adorable way. John returned the smile with a soft one of his own, and Jacob nodded in acknowledgement.

“Make your point, Jake,” John murmured.

His older brother snorted, “She’s sweet, John. A good kid. She’s pretty as a peach, can bake like a fuckin’ dream and she seems willing to put up with your shit. I don’t think you see it, but that girl likes you a hell of a lot.”

John said nothing and Jacob took a deep breath, exhaling heavily. “Let me put it like this; I know you better than anyone, and it’s clear as fucking day that you’re head over heels in love with her, John. I don’t have a goddamn clue why you’re pulling this whole ‘fake dating’ crap, but take my advice - if you don’t step up to the plate, somebody else will. She makes you happy, don’t lose that.”

With that he stood, draining the rest of his beer in a single gulp, clapping John meaningfully on the shoulder before walking away to go and find Joseph.

And all John could do was take another gulp of his beer, turning Jacob’s words over in his head in an attempt to make sense of them.

Of course he liked Eleanor - he’d never shied away from that. She was one of the best people he knew, she was sweet and warm and charming without even trying. She made him laugh and there was just something about her that he gravitated towards. She was amazing.

She felt like the only person who liked him for who he was, and she did like him, he was sure of it. Eleanor was friendly towards everyone, but he wasn’t imagining the soft smile she seemed to reserve just for him - the same smile that made his stomach lurch and his face heat up. Hell, he’d kissed her and she’d still stuck around, surely that said something, right?

And she’d kissed him at the door… But was that just a part of the act, or something more? 

They barely knew each other - she didn’t know about the drugs or the partying, would she still be interested if she knew all of John’s dirty little secrets? The rock bottom that he’d hit and had to claw his way out from?

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when Eleanor settled into the seat beside him. It was only when she gently tapped him on the shoulder that he’d realised he’d drifted off at all. “You okay, babe?” she asked, concern flitting across her face.

He perked up at the endearment, even more when she snuggled up into his side. “Yeah,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching up into a soft smile, “Yeah, I’m good.”

He was saved from any further questions by Faith announcing that it was present time. 

Gifts had never been a big thing with them, and had been more than a few years that had passed by with no presents shared at all, outside of the handwritten cards they’d passed one another on Christmas morning. Still, there was something oddly satisfying in tearing off wrapping paper or watching somebody’s face light up when they opened their presents. With an arm slung over Eleanor’s shoulders he sat back and watched his brothers and sister open their gifts with no small degree of satisfaction, accepting his own with charming grace and genuine smiles. 

Even Eleanor, who barely knew his family, had gotten each of them a small gift - a box of handmade chocolates, and if his siblings hadn’t warmed to her already, that (along with her baking) would have cinched it. 

More drinks were passed around, second helpings were had and as he sat there, Eleanor tucked up in his arms, laughing with his family, John couldn’t remember a better Christmas. 

He lost track of time, but as the sun dropped below the horizon and the night wore on, he figured that it was probably about time they left, and yet there was a part of him that wanted to ignore the clock entirely. 

He didn’t want this day to be over.

“You’d have to pretend to be my girlfriend. I can almost guarantee that Joseph’s already told the others.”

“I think I can manage that for one day.”

But when Faith yawned loudly, stretching out as she stood, John realised that he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He paid no attention to Faith flitting around behind them and gathering her things as he rose to his feet, offering Eleanor his arm to help her up.

“Come on, sweetheart. Time to head home, hey?” he said, ignoring the pointed look that Jacob shot him over her shoulder. 

Eleanor nodded, stretching out much like Faith had. “If you say so. I’m definitely having a nap on the way home just so you know,” she murmured, and John couldn’t help but smile at her. 

“That’s why I drove,” he replied, so focused on Eleanor and her adorable pout that he missed his little sister sneaking up behind them. Joseph and Jacob didn’t though, and as Faith reached up and dangled the white berried bouquet over the two of them Jacob loudly cleared his throat with a smirk.

Both John and Eleanor shot him a strange look, and Joseph, smiling in soft amusement, took the opportunity to clarify.

“I believe that you’re about to break a sacred Christmas tradition,” he said, nodding up at Faith’s dangling wrist above them. Both of them looked up, and John felt his stomach once again tie up in knots.

Mistletoe. Shit. 

When his eyes returned to Eleanor he found her staring intently at him, gently biting her bottom lip. He blushed as Faith giggled. 

“Are you just gonna stand there, Seed, or are you going to kiss me?” Eleanor asked, grinning daringly up at him.

His pulse was racing, his breath unsteady as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer. “My dear,” he murmured, “all you have to do is ask.”

I need you to ask me. Tell me you want this. 

Please.

Her hand came up to cup his cheek, “Kiss me, John.”

John closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Distantly he heard Jacob wolf whistling followed by Joseph’s gentle chastisement, but he paid them no mind. Instead he focused on Eleanor, the feel of her soft, plush lips moving against his, the taste of her, sweet like strawberries and cider, the feel of her warm body pressed against his. She was heavenly, so perfect - John had kissed a lot of people before, but in that moment he knew that the only lips he ever wanted to kiss again were hers.

He was in love with her, and he’d be damned if he let her slip away from him.

Notes:

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