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Another carol warbled through the speakers of the Uber as Schmidt gazed out the window. He straightened out the sleeves of his maroon velvet coat as he looked over to the gift bag next to him. It was the standard “Influencer Holiday Party” goodie bag. A collection of brand goods from that sponsored the extravagant event.
The party itself had plenty of beautiful photo ops, delicious food, and lots of champagne. It raised money for charity. He wasn’t sure which charity, but it was definitely one of the good ones.
He sighed. Looked out the window and sighed again. Schmidt had been looking forward to bringing Nando to the event. It would’ve been a great networking opportunity. Plus, soft lights always made his eyes seem even warmer.
Oof, the champagne had definitely bubbled up to his brain. He also blamed the warmth spreading across his cheeks on those bubbles as well. Nando had refused the invitation to spend Christmas Eve with Nadia. They had a long list of traditions they did every year. There was a disgusting amount of true Christmas spirit radiating from Nando as he spoke. It was adorable. It made Schmidt wish his family had any traditions. Instead, he would just sort of skip Christmas, as per usual.
A buzzing from Schmidt’s phone grabbed his attention. ‘Nando’ lit up the screen.
“Hello?” said Schmidt, almost dropping his phone as he went to answer it. He took a breath to calm his nerves.
“Schmidt?”
“...Yes?”
“Oh… what’s up?”
“I don’t know, you’re the one who called me.”
“Oh, right.”
“Are you drunk? Aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with Nadia?”
There was a small sniffle at the other end of the line.
“She’s not here. She was spending the day up with her grandparents by Baldie and was supposed to drive back for tonight, but there was a huge snowstorm that hit and-”
“Oh god,” said Schmidt. “The car spun out on the icy roads and now she’s fatally injured in a hospital somewhere.”
“What? No,” said Nando. “They tried to wait out the storm, but the roads are still too dangerous to drive on, so she won’t be here until tomorrow. But thanks for the terrible image you’ve just planted in my mind.”
“Sorry. So, you called me because?”
“I’m not sure, I didn’t really expect you to pick up. Oh crap, are you still at your party thing? I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m on my way home right now.”
“Oh.” There were a few beats of silence in which Schmidt softened at the memory of Nando’s excitement for this night.
“Do you want me to come over?”
“You don’t have to. It’s already so late.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be over in ten.”
There was an extravagant wreath on Nando’s apartment door. The amount of red and white glitter that had already fallen on the floor would be enough to plague anyone for life. He knocked, the action punctuated by more glitter sprinkling down. Nando opened the door, decked out in a Christmas sweatshirt and pajama bottoms.
“Merry Christmas!” he said, holding out a mug and swaying.
“Merry Christmas, what is this?”
“It’s tsokolate.”
Schmidt took a sip. “This is whipped-cream vodka with a splash of hot chocolate.”
“Is it? Sorry I might’ve gotten a little heavy-handed with it, I can make another one if you’d like.”
“No, it’s good,” he said, holding the mug closer and closing the door behind him.
“Oh, well, good. Come on in.”
Schmidt placed his shoes next to the pile of Nando and Nadia’s sneakers and followed Nando into the kitchen. He’d only been to Nando’s apartment a few times before. Once to snag a change of clothes for a case. Another time for a homework assignment Nadia forgot at home. He never took much notice of the decor, but it was hard not to see the Christmas explosion. Garlands upon garlands hung upon the wall, and Santas stared him down from every corner. As he moved into the apartment, the smell of freshly baked gingerbread hit him.
Rows upon rows of gingerbread men packed the kitchen counter. He felt like there was an audience for a play he didn’t know he was performing. The room glowed with the colorful lights strung everywhere. Nando pulled another tray of cookies from the oven with a small smile.
“How do you feel about decorating cookies?”
“All of them?”
“Nah, just enough to pass out to the neighbors in the morning and…”
“And?”
“I was going to say ‘and enough for Santa’, but that feels a little silly since Nadia isn’t here.” A flash of sadness passed over his face.
“I think it’s an international crime to not make a plate for Santa,” said Schmidt. “Or maybe just a United States crime?”
“You mean a federal crime?”
“Where is federal?"
Nando smiled. “Well, thank you for coming over after your party and all. Look at you looking all fancy in your velvet suit. Like Hugh Hefner, but actually hot.”
Schmidt felt the heat rise to his cheeks again, as he put his bag down on the counter.
“Uh, speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to have an apron or something I could wear?”
“Oh yeah, probably don’t want to get icing all over that, huh?” Nando ran his hand through his hair, thinking. “We don’t have any aprons, but you could borrow some of my sweats if you want. Might a bit more comfortable too.”
“Sure, that’d be fine.”
He followed Nando back to his bedroom. This was a part of the apartment Schmidt had never seen before. A huge abstract tapestry of two tigers intertwined hung above the half-made bed. The side table was a mess, with a stack of books and five almost finished water glasses. Nando pulled open a drawer of the wooden dresser. Pictures of Nadia from every stage of life filled the top.
“Here you go,” he said, tossing a few things onto the bed. “I know it’s not exactly your style, but…”
Schmidt held up the sweatshirt. It had a gigantic Christmas tree with small bells sewn on as ornaments. He raised an eyebrow at Nando.
“Holiday magic?” smiled Nando.
Schmidt smirked. “For holiday magic.” He unbuttoned his shirt and watched as Nando’s entire face went red.
“Cool, okay. I’ll let you do that while I color the icing,” he said, scurrying from the room. Schmidt bit back a smile. Nando always blushed so easily. Hugh Hefner his ass, didn’t Nando know any other celebrities who’ve worn velvet once?
The clothes were a bit baggy on Schmidt for his liking. The horrendous sweatshirt was about two sizes too large. Though, as he pulled it on, he could smell that concoction of cedarwood, sandalwood, and rosemary he knew as Nando. It enveloped him completely.
What was he doing here? Nando was just a business partner. Well, not just a business partner. A friend. A friend he really, really wanted to make out with. He went to take another sip of his hot chocolate and found there was none left. Ah.
He marched back out to the kitchen, hoping his thoughts wouldn’t be able to follow him from the bedroom.
“So, where do we start?” he asked, watching Nando squeeze icing onto one of the cookies.
“Icing bags and other decorations are all over here,” he said. “And just decorate however you see fit!”
Schmidt shuffled next to Nando and did his best to decorate the cookies.
“Why is that gingerbread man crying?” asked Nando.
“It’s supposed to be a twinkle in his eye,” said Schmidt.
“Ah.”
“I’ve uh, never done this before.”
“You’ve never decorated cookies before?”
“Nope.”
“Not even once?”
“Nuhuh.”
“What did you leave out for Santa as a kid?”
“We bought cookies from the store,” he said, giving an otherwise cheerful cookie a grimace by accident. “Our Christmas’ were pretty lowkey, we didn’t have many traditions.”
“That’s fair, I didn’t really keep many until Nadia was born. Christmas is more fun with a kid. Though now I’ve committed myself to giving cookies to the neighbors every year.”
“She’s a lucky kid with a great dad.”
Nando was blushing again. “So what’s up with the bag?”
“Oh, that’s a goodie bag from the party. I think it’s got some champagne and Godiva chocolates in there.”
“In a goodie bag?” said Nando. “Man, maybe I should’ve gone to that party.”
“This is more fun than that party was,” said Schmidt. “Would you like to try some of that champagne though? It’s supposed to be pretty fancy.”
“So fancy, I would love a glass. I’m going to put on some music too.”
Schmidt poured two tall glasses as Elvis drifted in from the living room. They returned to the cookies, humming and dancing to the music as they drained the bottle. The cookies became more abstract interpretations of people, and frosting was everywhere.
“What the hell is wrong with that cookie’s face,” laughed Nando.
“It’s a Picasso meets Van Gogh piece! Yours aren’t looking too hot either,” giggled Schmidt.
“Sh, sh, sh,” hushed Nando, putting a finger to Schmidt’s lips. His words got caught behind his heart, which had leapt into his throat. He swallowed both back down.
“This is the best song on the album,” he mumbled. He pinned Schmidt with his gaze. “Hey Schmidt?”
“Yeah?” he whispered.
“Would you dance with me?”
Schmidt took one look into Nando’s soft, drunken, pleading brown eyes, and placed his hands on Nando’s waist. Nando hung his arms off Schmidt’s neck and rested his head against his chest. Schmidt tried to steady his breathing so Nando wouldn’t be able to hear his heart hammering. He rested his cheek against the top of Nando’s head, lost in the warmth of touch.
They swung gently to the crooning of Elvis. Even by the most liberal of definitions, it wasn’t a dance, but it was enough. As the record ended, Nando looked up to Schmidt. He wiped a patch of frosting from his cheek, letting his hand linger for an extra moment. Schmidt wrapped his arms tighter around the small of Nando’s back. As he pulled him in closer, Nando twisted from Schmidt’s hug over to the refrigerator.
“Well, looks like we finished all the cookies for now. Time for the next stage of holiday merriment.”
“The next stage?” said Schmidt, still trying to hold the air where Nando once was.
“Noche Buena, or at least our version of it,” said Nando, as he pulled out a large red ball of cheese, ham, and some apple slices. “Nadia found out about it a few years ago from a school project or something and said I was neglecting her cultural heritage if we didn’t do it. Though, she probably just wanted to stay up late and eat snacks.”
“What is it?”
“Usually it’s a big meal you share with all your family on Christmas Eve around midnight, but since there’s only two of us we do a charcuterie version and watch The Mistle Tones.”
“I see.”
“You can go get comfy on the couch, I’ll bring out the food in a second.”
“Okay,” said Schmidt as he headed to the living room, trying to figure out if he’d had a vivid hallucination.
He grabbed a blanket and sank into the couch cushions. In the corner of the room was the tree, decorated in BTS member’s faces. Every year Nando decorated the tree in accordance to Nadia’s interests. They’d spent one day at the office researching the band for ornament ideas. Topping the tree was the light stick he’d gotten Nadia as an early Christmas present.
Nando strolled in from the kitchen with his platter of snacks. He plopped down on the sofa next to Schmidt and turned on the T.V. Schmidt couldn’t take his eyes off him. Tracing the profile of his jawline to his lips, drawn into a gentle grin.
“Do you need anything before I start the movie?” asked Nando.
“Mmm. Oh, no. No, I’m good,” said Schmidt, snapping his attention to the screen.
A cheesy cover of a holiday song played over the opening credits and Schmidt fell asleep. At his own apartment, he would play movies to help him sleep. The combination of a late night and drinks meant instant unconsciousness.
He slept for most of the movie, waking to a gentle tug through his hair. He hummed into the hand that stroked his cheek. Schmidt could hear Nando’s heartbeat where his head rested. Cedarwood and rosemary surrounded him. Above him, Schmidt could see the glow of Nando’s face in the T.V. light. A soft smile rested on his lips as he half watched the movie and as he played with Schmidt’s hair.
Without thinking, Schmidt brushed his thumb along the bottom of Nando’s chin. A warm hand wrapped around Schmidt’s own as Nando kissed his knuckles. Once. Twice, then letting his lips linger. Tangling his fingers in Nando’s hair, Schmidt pulled him down into an eager kiss. Time slowed as they parted for a timid breath. An infinity in the space between them, but Schmidt could still taste him.
The moment passed as fast as it’d arrived as Nando pulled Schmidt back into a long kiss. They twisted together on the couch until Schmidt straddled him, pressing down against his thighs. His breath hitched as a hand traced his back under his shirt. Schmidt lost himself in the kiss's warmth. He let his hands wander, not caring where they rested.
Nando pulled away as Schmidt toyed with his waistband. His glasses pushed askew on his forehead, he mumbled to Schmidt.
“Wait, wait. I’m sorry, I just don’t, it’s been a long time and I just, I’m not sure-”
Schmidt kissed him gently, and the nervous words melted away in the back of his throat. He felt Nando relax into his arms.
“We don’t have to do anything,” whispered Schmidt. “Nothing you don’t want to do.”
“I just…”
“Mhmm?” said Schmidt, nibbling at his neck. “What? What is it?”
“I just don’t want you to let go.”
There was another smiling kiss. And another.
“It’s late,” said Schmidt between kisses. “Let’s go to bed. You need to sleep so you’ll have energy when Nadia is back tomorrow.”
“Mhmm,” said Nando, running a hand through Schmidt’s hair.
He pulled himself away from Nando’s grasp. He reached out a lingering hand to Schmidt. Schmidt tried to tug him up from the couch.
“Come on, if we don’t go to sleep Santa won’t come.”
Nando trailed behind as Schmidt dragged him to the bedroom.
“Okay, okay,” said Nando. He stripped off his Christmas pajamas and sweater as Schmidt watched from the edge of the bed. He drank in the sight of Nando’s back. It was broad and filled with muscles that shifted as Nando placed his clothes in the hamper.
Schmidt's cheeks burned when Nando turned back to look at him. His heart pounded as Nando helped pull the borrowed sweatshirt over his head and pushed his chest down onto the bed. They crawled together up to the pillows. They paused every few moments for a quick kiss, and Schmidt felt drunk once again from the warmth of Nando’s chest against his.
They kissed lazily until Nando let out a long yawn as Schmidt was kissing at his neck. Schmidt chuckled as Nando rolled off from on top of him.
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m a little tired.” “You really are an old man.”
“Hey now.”
Schmidt rolled over, pulled Nando into a tight hug, and tucked the covers over them. He crooned softly into Nando’s ear.
“Merry Christmas, Fernando.” A shiver passed through Nando before he settled into Schmidt’s embrace.
“Merry Christmas, Schmidt.”
Then together, they drifted into a blissful sleep.