Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was never supposed to come to this. Taako is a fucking actor. He’s been in Shakespeare. He can sing, even, if a production is really pressed for it. He should be in feature length films and expensive commercials and TV dramas with the wild closeup shots--not a fucking elf costume at the mall.

But Santa’s Village was hiring, and Taako’s landlord refuses to take aspirations for the rent.

He jingles miserably down the hallway, past good ol’ Vicky’s Secret and the GameStop, past the shitty pretzel place he’s going to get a classic and some radioactive cheese from on his first break, if he’s not busy vomiting from despair or en route to the hospital for a venomous child bite, and he clocks in. The computer in Santa’s Workshop in Santa’s village plays a merry little Candlenights tune, and Taako can taste hashbrowns and bad coffee again. He straightens his dumb stupid jingle hat and steps out to meet the friendly cast and crew before the kids start lining up.

Being in this mall makes him feel like a teenager again in the worst way. Helpless. Angry. Hideous. Itchy. Attention-seeking.

Santa walks over and greets Taako like he might be a grandkid he doesn’t quite remember the name of, and he offers Taako an awkward fistbump and establishes that his people name is Merle, but don’t tell the kids! Ho, ho, ho. His beard is real, and he’s not quite five foot even. He seems legit enough. Definitely the pull-my-finger kind of guy, radiating deadbeat dad energy harder than a sun that walked out for cigarettes and never re-entered the solar system. Taako instantly establishes a weird, embarrassing sort of attachment to the guy.

There aren’t a lot of elves, couldn’t afford too many fucking about the place, and his co-conspirator in holiday mischief is Ren, who seems absolutely delighted to be here. She appears to have rolled out of bed in red and green tights and curly little shoes, and greeted the day with some kind of pleasant little mantra, like The best way to spread Candlenights cheer is singing loud for all to hear!!!! The extra exclamation points live in her eyes, where they breed like rabbits and spread like a disease, infecting everyone she looks at with pleasant holiday feelings.

“I’m so excited to work with you, Taako!” she tells him, sweet as a candy cane, and Taako gives her a sarcastic smile back. He pokes himself when he affixes his nametag and he wishes, albeit entirely too dramatically, that he bleeds on the elf costume. It seems appropriate, somehow.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he drawls, and he gets his travel mug out of his bag and knocks back some more bad coffee. The real boss isn’t on the premises to call him out, and Merle Claus doesn’t seem to give two shits, even when he’s paying attention. That seems like a reasonable chain of command, doesn’t it? His boss should be Santa?

But the person who really seems to be running the show is the photographer. He’s bossing around the guy at the gates when Taako walks over to introduce himself. The guy in question is Magnus, who isn’t quite an elf and isn’t quite Mister Photographer in his nice jacket and fancy shoes, just the Angry Mommy Wrangler, whom Taako will come to forgive and appreciate as the day drags on, but for now, Taako hates him in his ugly Candlenights sweater, with the bows and pom poms and jingle bells, and worse, his normal person pants, which Taako would fucking kill for at the moment. He’s all for tights under a cute outfit or in a play for a few hours, but these stripey bastards are riding up something fierce under his stupid little tunic and he cannot wait to go home and wear sweatpants, or something a little more fashionable, like nothing.

So he’s thinking about being half-naked, or maybe even mostly naked, while he watches the asshole photographer argue with Magnus about fake snow placement or something else stupid, and he’s just sort of going into his head and waiting to be bossed around, which he did all the time when he worked at Wendy’s, and Target, and Verizon, and so on, when the photographer turns to him and demands his opinion.

“What?” he says, like a dumb asshole in a jingle tunic and pointy shoes.

“Santa’s village looks abysmal this year,” the guy says, gesturing with his fancy camera. Taako wonders if this guy used to work somewhere nicer and is in the same boat as Taako, or maybe he’s just freshly fired from Sears and needs the cash, which almost makes Taako sympathetic. Almost. “Don’t you think?”

Well, they don’t pay him to think. He can do that on his own time. “Sure looks glittery and shit to me. Oh, fuck, am I not supposed to say shit?”

“Not until the kids get here,” Magnus says helpfully.

“You mean I can until the kids get here?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Taako kind of likes Magnus.

“I mean it’s no wonder, the way the mall’s going, but you’d think they’d at least try to put on appearances.”

“Man, I’m just here for a check,” Taako says, folding his arms. He jingles. He can’t breathe or take a shit without jingling. He is so full of hatred he could power a rocket to Pluto, where he could build a little cabin and live on his own and never have to think about Candlenights again.

“Well, I’m not here for fun,” the photographer snorts. “Oh, right. The name’s Kravitz.” He sticks out a hand to shake and Taako low-fives it, just to be an asshole.

“Taako,” Taako says, pointing out his nametag. “You should have yours pinned to your chest so you don’t forget again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kravitz says, eyeing him over, quite clearly trying to decide how seriously to take him. Taako rolls his eyes.

“When’s the party start in this bitch?”

“We open when the mall opens, which is in about-” he checks an honest-to-fucking-god pocketwatch, and Taako can’t decide if he wants to witness his death or eat him, “Seventeen minutes. And we will have them clamouring at the gate like zombies in exactly seventeen minutes. Magnus and I worked this last year-”

“I’ll keep you safe!” Magnus laughs and claps Taako on the back, knocking him forward into Kravitz, who steadies him. Kravitz has muscles under his black turtleneck, and Taako’s priorities rearrange themselves in record time. Kravitz squeezes his shoulder a little as he steps back, sort of checking on Taako and sort of checking on his camera. Woof. Taako would fan himself if it wouldn’t make him jingle.

Kravitz glances back at Taako and gives him a little smile, like, oh, can you believe this guy? Taako finally takes a proper look at him instead of squinting vaguely in his direction with disdain and...oh no. He’s got the most gorgeous cheekbones Taako’s ever witnessed, careful braids pulled back into a half ponytail, and the most kissable lips he’s ever beheld in his short elf career, and Taako aches. How he didn’t notice that beauty before is beyond him. Clearly he needs more coffee.

Wait, Magnus was talking to him.Taako mentally shoos away the angelic choir going for gold in his daydreams.

“Oh, uh. Thanks, man, I’m sure those little anklebiters are going to love me. I’ve heard I taste like chicken.”

“It’s not the kids you have to be worried about!” Magnus’ eyes go wide, like a soldier recalling the horrors of battle. “It’s the fucking parents!”

“Exactly!” Merle calls, all the way from Santa’s throne. “Those milfs are insane!”

“I’m going to slaughter you and have you taxidermied as a rug, old man!” Taako replies, and Magnus laughs so hard he doubles over and almost cries. Merle, for his part, laughs too, and Taako figures he might get along okay with this crew. Okay enough.

If he can climb that photographer like a Candlenights bush.

Taako gets the lowdown from Ren, which is essentially what he expected--child, Santa’s knee, picture, repeat. What to do if a kid pees or panics or screams or bites, what to do if they won’t sit still or smile, where the candy canes are, and so on. He tunes out most of it.

“You can be the candy cane captain,” he declares, like he’s bestowing a title instead of shirking duties. Ren grins excitedly and bounces on her toes, jingling.

“I do love it when they smile at me!”

“I’ll bet you do. You seem...innately suited for this, Ren.”

“I’m just so into Candlenights, and I figured picking up an extra job would help me be able to give some nice gifts again this year! I’m an expert gift giver, you know. It’s all about knowing the person so well that you guess something they want that they didn’t even think of!”

“That’s incredible.”

“Yeah! It makes me feel incredible! Like, I know it’s a little cheesy, but I really do love spreading joy, you know? I want to be an actress, actually, so I can make people happy all the time! I’ve always really wanted to be in kids’ movies, or- or TV shows, or even-”

“No shit? I’m an actor too!” Taako raises his eyebrows, a little surprised to find someone even remotely on his level in this stink zone.

“Cool it on the shits,” Magnus declares. “Sixty seconds and counting.”

“Motherfucker,” Taako says, because he still can. “Shit on a hot rock.”

“Big ass,” Merle supplies, and snickers like an absolute child.

“God damn it?” Ren offers, grinning nervously like a puppy trying to join the party.

“Cock...sucker,” Kravitz tries. Taako grins right at him. Perfect selection, he wants to say. Shall I demonstrate? Our break isn’t that far away really, if you count by tens, and I know the most excellent place to slip away-

“And you’re all done.” Magnus points at his watch. “Assholes.” He laughs at his own joke, and then there’s the great loud sound of dozens of doors opening, and the dick-shriveling breeze of the outside joining the inside in a sweet, sweet embrace, and then. The customers arrive.

Yes, it turns out, the parents are worse than the children, but, as Taako discovers, this is only a marginal distinction. He is kicked in the shins. He is cursed at. He is shoved. He is protected by Magnus and in some small way by Merle, who tells the offending brats that naughty kids get coal and really naughty kids get bird-eating spiders and horse manure, and Ren valiantly fields the upset teeny tinies, whom Taako has no recourse for whatsoever.

Everyone is dressed in their Candlenights best, some even in matching outfits, and Kravitz takes photo after photo after photo and Taako gets to be a prop and a warm body, and he gets minimum fucking wage for it. It is a whirlwind of bullshit served extra cold, and even as he is battered by Bath and Bodyworks bags, he looks forward to his break, and his pretzel, and a chance to talk to Kravitz.

Santa’s Village closes for fifteen minutes at eleven thirty, which is met by violent disdain from the parents in line, and Magnus really proves useful when he escorts the crew to the breakroom. His regular job as a bouncer has trained him up well for this, he explains, but his golden retriever enthusiasm rivals Ren’s, and that helps, too. Taako feels like he’s barely escaped with his life as he presses his face to the cold metal break room table, and he didn’t even get his fucking pretzel.

“So,” Kravitz says, a little awkwardly. “Do you want anything from the vending machine?”

“They got Dr. Pepper?”

“Indeed.”

“Fuck, I don’t have any pockets. I left my bag at the workshop.” Taako closes his eyes and thinks of violence.

“I’ve got you.” Kravitz feeds bills into the machine and pulls out two cold bottles, one of which he sets in front of Taako. Taako hasn’t even taken off the stupid hat. He’s been on his feet so long now, he just wanted to melt into a puddle. But he needs more caffeine in his system, so he sits back up and cracks it open, taking in the photographer and his Diet Coke.

“Thanks,” he says, a little slowly. “I’ll pay you back at the end of the day.”

“My treat.” Kravitz shrugs. “You probably need it. Those people are feral.”

“No fucking kidding,” Taako groans, tipping it back. Sweet nectar, so carbonated it hurts, waking him up from the inside out. He feels his red and green shell slip off of him momentarily and remembers being a person, a someone. And yet, he jingles. The shackles remain. “I think a mom almost bit me.”

“What would you turn into on full moons?” Kravitz props his head up and grins, and Taako feels an incredible fondness for him he can’t quite explain.

“A wasp?” he tries. “Maybe a purse dog. Awwoooo.”

“A terrible shame. Honestly, I’d trust a werewolf farther than one of those things. One bit me when I was seven and it got infected. Nasty little fuckers.”

“Little did you know my darkest secret,” Taako uses his most dramatic voice, “On full moons I turn into a regular asshole who likes to be tied up anyway!”

Kravitz laughs so hard he chokes on his soda and it almost comes out of his nose. Taako counts that as a win.

Fifteen minutes flies like a 747 that has to go to the bathroom, and before they know it, they’ve got to get back at it again. They leave the backrooms of the mall, twisting and maze-like and grey, and brave the gamut of the holiday shoppers, who are foaming at the mouth and growing claws and fangs, and Taako fears a little bit for his minimum wage life and grabs Kravitz by the hand.

“Stay with me!”

“Um- ah- you- o-okay?”

And Taako drags him through the feral crowd and the Candlenights sweaters and the shopping bags and the tiny children and Magnus lets them in through the fence and slams it shut after them.

“Whew! That was fu- fantastic, I mean.” He laughs and grins at Kravitz and Kravitz gives him a stunned sort of expression that might feel more at home on a deer about to drive straight into a wild truck driver.

“Yeah,” he repeats, a little dazed. “Fantastic.” He doesn’t let go of Taako’s hand, and Taako feels something that might even be an extended cousin of Candlenights cheer. Merle Claus, I haven’t been very good this year, but can I have a boyfriend for Candlenights?

If only. Taako lets go of his hand and squeezes his shoulder before walking over to the candy cane bowl and ripping the wrapper off with his teeth. A dad yells something rude, and Taako pretends his ears don’t work. He’s got a minute, still. And even if he doesn’t, he does.

Merle comes out of the Workshop, yawning and looking like he actually slept for all fifteen minutes, and Ren pops up seemingly out of nowhere, smiling and ready to rock.

“Shall we?” she asks cheerily, as if there’s a choice here.

“May as well.” Taako shrugs, and he jingles.

“I’m ready,” Kravitz calls. If Taako didn’t know better, he could almost swear he was flexing the hand Taako had held. Hopefully that’s a good thing. It sure makes Taako feel some type of way.

“Let ‘er rip.”

“Aye aye, Taako!” Magnus opens the gates and starts taking money again. And the Candlenights shoppers swarm Santa’s Village like the end times. Taako can almost hear O Fortuna as he watches them advance in slow motion. Taako goes into his retail space and lets a dangerously pleasant expression settle on his face. He doesn’t care a bit what happens as long as he gets paid.

And at least he gets to stare at that photographer. He’s fucking gorgeous.

They don’t get to have lunch until 2:30. Taako is dying. He tells everyone about his approaching end of days and Kravitz laughs and offers to arrange his hospice care. Taako officially likes Kravitz too much. He didn’t actually bring lunch, feeling dumber than pudding at a salad bar, and he ends up getting a pretzel dog instead of the pretzel he’s been dreaming of all day.

Kravitz tells Taako he’s got cheese on his nose, and Taako watches him stare, like he wants to lick it off himself. Taako wishes he would.

He uses a napkin, instead.

“What do you do, normally, Taako?” he asks, and Taako feels a bit of fuzziness at being addressed by his name by someone who might like him, even though he’s wearing a name tag.

“I’m an actor,” he says, cutting out the obviously at the last minute. Kravitz doesn’t deserve that. He’s only seen Taako in jingle bells and tights. “I’m going to be on TV.”

“Oh, really?” Kravitz smiles. “When?”

“Oh, you know, someday,” Taako waves his hand dismissively, and he goes back to peeling the pretzel off his dog and eating that first. “I mean, I’ve been in serious productions, Shakespeare, even, and I’ve tried out for a lot of parts. I’m on my way.”

“Oh,” Kravitz says politely. “I’m sure you’ll get there. Um, what, uh, what plays were you in?”

“I’ve been Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet,” he fondly remembers making out with Tybalt backstage, “And I was Hamlet for a bit. You know, from-”

“Macbeth, yeah,” Kravitz jokes, and Taako snickers.

“Plus a few other smaller roles. And some other plays you probably haven’t heard of. I’m pretty good at my character acting, which means I end up with the memorable side parts instead of the main ones, which is kind of infuriating, except like, when the character with twenty lines gets the most applause. That's pretty sweet.” He grins.

"The stage has to be pretty different compared to TV."

"Yeah," Taako shrugs, "But I'm ready for the big leagues. Maybe the next time you see me, I'll be a dead guy on CSI. You watch."

"I was sort of hoping I'd see you tomorrow," Kravitz says softly, a gentle little smile on his face. Taako's heart chokes on his hot dog.

"You just don't want to be alone without Santa's Helpers!" he accuses, trying to avoid thinking about the sweet way Kravitz was just looking at him.

"You're right, I'll admit it. I'm no good at wrangling anklebiters, okay? I need you, Taako. You're my only hope." He laughs. "Honestly, I'm a photographer. I'm best at dealing with shit if it's far away from me, you know?"

"Do you pho-tograph full time?"

"I try to." Kravitz sighs. "I make good money on graduation photos, but the rest of the year can be hard. I wanna open up my own studio, but, you know, money?"

"Ah, I know him. What a bastard."

Kravitz nods.

“I’m really hoping by this time next year I won’t have to take this gig again, but it’s been steady the last few years. Merle’s been Santa for two or three, Ren joined us last year, and I’ve had Magnus on crew for almost four years now.”

“Four years of this?” Taako shudders.

“Yeeup.”

“Christ. I can see why you want to break free.”

“I mean, it’s not like I won’t probably have to take photos of kids if I open a studio, you know? Holiday pictures are huge for money. But I want to do- you know, photo essays for magazines, and professional work, and- and fucking art!” Kravitz holds up his hands dramatically, and then he checks around them to make sure there aren’t any kids near by. Taako chuckles fondly.

“Do you sell prints online?”

“I’ve been told I should, I just don’t know what I’d want out there. Only generic stuff really gets picked up, you know, and I’m not really a flowers-and-mountains kind of guy?”

“Etsy, dude. Or like, storenvy, or, uh, redbubble, you know, any of those?”

“I guess.” Kravitz props his head on his hand and pokes at his Lean Cuisine with a plastic fork. It still looks a little frozen in the middle. “I just want to do more than survive, you know?”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Taako says, and he sighs. Quiet settles over them like a sparkling blanket of moth-eaten fake snow, and they eat in silence for a moment, just sort of enjoying each others’ presence. Kravitz gets up and reheats his lunch, and Taako rips his straw wrapper into hamster bedding, followed by the wax paper his pretzel dog came in.

“So,” he starts again, after the microwave beeps and Kravitz returns to the table with a now apparently boiling ‘chicken’ ‘marsala’. “Why didn’t the others want to eat with us?”

“Oh, Ren visits her friends who work in the mall, and there’s another break room on the other side, ‘cause it’s so big. One works in the Hot Topic and the other does mall security, and then I think one visits from the liquor store across the street, sometimes.” He ticks off on his fingers. “Merle tends to take a nap and then eat a big dinner, don’t ask him why, or you’ll have to hear all about his digestion, and-”

“I one hundred percent don’t want to experience that.”

“Exactly. Magnus’ wife Julia comes and brings him lunch and they eat in the car and kiss.”

“Bleuugh.”

“They’re adorable,” Kravitz adds, somberly.

“I was kind of thinking he was cute, but,”

“Incredibly, incredibly taken.” Kravitz makes a face. “So, anyway, I’m kind of glad you wanted to join me in hell.”

“No one I’d rather burn with,” Taako quips, smiling. Kravitz ducks his head a little as he smiles too, sort of shy. Taako could just eat him right up.

Kravitz picks at his mess for a bit longer. Taako almost blows on his pile of paper to make it snow, but he figures he doesn’t want to be on the bad side of the janitor, so he scoops it up and puts it in the trash. It’s quiet again, and he listens to the door of the trashcan flutter shut, whump-whump, whump-whump. Kravitz is so pretty. There’s gold in his ears, and in his hair, and Taako adores it. If they were dating, Taako would buy him even more gold to wear, lavish him with it and let him glitter. If he could afford that.

But maybe for their first day together he’s dreaming a little hard.

“How much time we got left?” Taako should have brought his phone, but it’s back in his bag in Santa’s Workshop. It’s almost sort of worth it to watch Kravitz pull out his fucking pocket watch again and hem and haw at the time. Taako holds back a laugh.

“None time, it would seem. We’d better get back.”

Taako groans. “What if we didn’t? What if we ran away and didn’t come back?”

“Then I’d have to eat another one of these for dinner,” Kravitz deadpans, sliding the whole Lean Cuisine into the trash. Whump-whump, whump-whump.

Taako wishes he could cook for him.

It’s even crazier when they get back and Kravitz and Taako get to field it all. A kid tells Merle he wants a gun for Candlenights, and a little girl asks if Daddy can marry his girlfriend instead of Mommy, because she’s richer and gives better presents.

Merle gives her three candy canes and tells her not to bring it up at dinner. Taako just smiles his plastic retail elf smile and lets the day happen to him.

That night, he eats dinner and goes to bed before nine. He dreams of a beautiful smile and a blinding flash and of Candlenights music he can’t get out of his head even in his sleep.

The next day is a little calmer, after the opening day. It’s also a Monday, which means people have to work, and that gives them a lot of down time after the initial rush of idiots in holiday wear. Even when no one is in line, they aren’t allowed to sit and hang out, so Ren the elf takes Santa around the mall to drum up interest and Magnus counts the money, which leaves Taako and Kravitz time to fuck around.

“You should pose, let me take a picture of you.”

“In this fucking clown suit? No way!” Taako folds his arms and he jingles.

“Please? With eyes like yours, you’d be an incredible muse.”

“Fine, but only because I’m not immune to flattery.” Taako rolls his eyes like he’s not absolutely blushing hard enough to light Santa’s way through the fog with his face. “I’m taking the hat off, though. Don’t you dare comment on my hair.” He slips off the hat and tosses it aside, tousling his hair a little. His loose braid lets some of it slip, and he considers re-tying it altogether, but he looks at Kravitz and finds him absolutely floored, walled, and ceilinged.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers.

“I know. It’s a heavy burden.” Taako snickers. “Headshots only. I want no proof to exist of this stupid fucking outfit.”

“I can do that, Taako.”

Taako’s heart squeezes in the ugliest way. He loves hearing his name on those sweet lips.

They goof around, taking pictures, Taako laying in the snow, which turns out to be incredibly itchy, Taako playing in glitter, Taako sucking on a candy cane. Taako winking. Their laughter is interrupted when Ren and Santa finally get back, and they have to go back to their posts, hiding giggles and knowing smiles they can only share with each other. It’s not the worst way Taako could have spent his day. And he got paid for it. Maybe this job isn’t so bad, after all.

The next day is boring, save for a conversation they have at lunch. Kravitz is eating another fucking frozen rectangle, but this time, Taako’s brought leftovers from the night before, lasagna he made himself.

“Why do you eat that crap?” he asks, watching Kravitz track his ‘tortellini’ ‘alfredo’ in miserable nuclear circles.

“Well, I don’t have a lot of money.”

“Oh, so I look like the Monopoly man to you?”

“You would look good in a mustache.”

“That’s a lie and you’re not making either of us look better by avoiding the truth.”

Kravitz shakes his head and laughs.

“Okay, fine, I’m deflecting. I’m no cook, and I’m cheap, and you’d probably think me even more pathetic if I brought my leftovers. Last night I had to throw away my curry because I burnt the potatoes. Tell me, did you even think that was possible?”

“Every day you amaze me in new ways,” Taako teases. “Do you want me to bring you something edible for tomorrow?”

“You’re telling me you act and cook and look cute in jingle bells?”

“Two of those things are true. No one looks cute in jingle bells. Jingle bells are evil.”

“Ren looks cute in jingle bells, and she’s not even my cup of tea.” Kravitz removes his lunch and peels off the plastic cover, which drips condensation on his pants. He swears under his breath and Taako can’t help but laugh.

“Ren is adorable. It’s in her DNA. She can’t help it. Not that she’s my drink of choice either.”

“What is your, uh, your drink of choice?” Kravitz watches him closely as he returns to the table, which means he bumps his knee on the table leg and lets loose another string of foul words.

Taako grins.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, turtleneck boy. Anyway, tomorrow I’m bringing you real food. No buts.”

“You don’t have to do that, Taako, I-”

“It’s so I don’t have to see you consume more of that garbage, got it? This is as much for me as it is for you. I don’t mind compliments on my food, either. Besides, you bought me that soda on the first day.”

“Well, um...” Kravitz swirls his lame meal with his plastic fork and looks up at Taako with a soft smile. “I’d like that.”

“So obviously I’m making homemade spaghetti and meatballs,” Taako announces to Lup, whom he can hear rolling her eyes over the speakerphone. He’s almost rolled his last meatball.

“Homemade sauce I get. But homemade meatballs too? You are crushing hard, T, hard enough to make aquarium gravel.”

“You haven’t seen him, though. He’s fucking gorgeous. And funny. And did I tell you about the fucking pocketwatch?”

“He sounds insane. Get well soon.”

“He sounds hot as hell, and you can support me, or I can make meatballs while I listen to a shitty DND podcast.”

“Haha, I knew you’d get into DND, no matter how much you bitched and moaned about it being nerd shit. You should come play with me and Barry sometime. Maybe you can bring your new hottie after you woo him with completely unnecessary cooking.”

“You act like I’ve got this in the bag already!” Taako snaps his gloves off and throws them in the trash.

“Um, I have that sauce recipe too. It’s bullet-proof. Also it clearly sounds like he likes you. And I know that face of yours pretty well, solid nine out of ten-”

“I am going to hang up on you, I swear to god-”

“Okay, fine, fifteen out of ten on a bad day, alright, you’ve twisted my arm, plus no man worth his pocket watch is going to turn down homemade food. That shit’s tight as hell. And if he’s eating fucking frozen food-”

“Lean Cuisines,” Taako moans.

“Christ on a bike, are you sure you even want this guy?”

“Every guy needs a fixable flaw, Lu, how else am I supposed to know he’s mortal?”

“You may be right. I may be crazy.”

“But it just may beee a lunatic you’re looking for!” they sing in unison, and fall into laughter.

“Yeah, okay,” Lup decides. “Cook for him, and see how he handles it. And stop chasing if he’s like, buh huh hoo, this needs salt, or whatever. Just season it right.”

“You know me, I’ve got it,” Taako complains.

“Yeah, I know.” She laughs. “Keep your heart safe. You still gotta work with the guy, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t burn the sauce!”

“Is this fucking amatuer hour? Do I sound like a fucking child to you? Next you’re going to be like, don’t forget the bay leaves!!! I swear-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she teases. “S-”

“I’m going to fucking sear the meatballs, Lup.”

“Good, just checking that your brain still works. Now ruin it with some DND, I gotta go. Love you. Be safe.”

“Mhm,” Taako says, digging out his good spatula. “Love you too. I’ll update you tomorrow on the situation.”

“It’s simple, really. He likes it and he’s maybe, perhaps worthy of your interest, or he doesn’t like it and I come murder him for you. Joyous candlenights. Don’t forget you’re coming over day of, okay? For presents and ham?”

“Always.” Taako can’t help but smile. “Later, alligator.”

“After a while, crocodile.”

Kravitz eats the spaghetti the next day and almost cries.

“Oh my god?” he says. “I, Taako, I know this is just leftovers, but Taako, listen, this is honestly better than any spaghetti I’ve ever had? Even my mom’s. Don’t tell her I said that, ever, please, but also this is incredible, I can’t believe...”

“Perfect.” Taako grins. “I was hoping you had taste.”

“Could I pay you to bring me more tomorrow?”

“Nah, baby, I’m making you something different tomorrow.” Taako cracks his knuckles and grins sharply. “What else do you like?”

So Taako cooks for the both of them every day. Which is fine, he would be cooking anyway and it gives him an excuse to try a few new recipes, not to mention he doesn’t have to smell a Lean Cuisine again. He does worry he’s showing his whole ass though, cooking for a guy like that, but Kravitz doesn’t seem to mind, clearing his tupperware every day. If Taako wouldn’t make fun of him for it, Kravitz would be licking the container like a dog, probably. And that feels pretty good. Almost as good as taking him by the hand every day after lunch to run back through the crowds of wild holiday shoppers.

But Taako doesn’t ask him out.

Part of it is that they have to keep working together, and he’s pretty sure he won’t be rejected, but also if he was rejected, he’d straight up die if he had to keep working with the dude. He’s gone through that hell before and literally quit over it. His heart can’t fucking take that kind of a pounding. That, and Taako kind of wants Kravitz to cowboy up and ask. Is that so much to ask for?

But Kravitz doesn’t ask him. That’s fine. Taako doesn’t ask him either. They just keep taking breaks together, and eating lunch, eating food Taako made especially for them to share together, goofing around together when there are no customers. It’s not just Kravitz, though.

Ren and Magnus and Merle are all better coworkers than he could have asked for, in this glittery red and green hellscape. Merle is almost like a dad, in a terrible but also great way, and Ren is so nice to talk to about acting shit, and she even sends him a few good opportunities for casting calls, and he of course returns the favor. And Magnus...he’s funny and sweet and tough and gentle, and he protects Taako and the others from the crazy parents and evil children and general mall nonsense. When the teenagers turn up, it’s Magnus that the Santa’s Village crew rally behind. And it’s all okay.

It’s actually one of the better jobs Taako’s had.

“Is it weird?” Magnus asks one day, getting closer and closer to Candlenights now. They can’t sit--only Santa’s allowed to sit, and he’s standing in solidarity with the rest of them--but they can lean, and they’re all leaning against various props like some kind of sick Candlenights-themed album cover. “Being an elf and...being an elf?”

“It’s absolutely wild, my man,” Taako says. Ren nods.

“I just try not to think about it too much, I guess? Like, I think of Candlenights elves as a different kind of thing than, you know, real people elves. Like, you know how the elves in the Shoemaker story are tiny, like fairies? I kind of think of it like that.”

“I mean, there are some insulting generalizations, yeah, but also, it’s not that bad.” Taako shrugs. “Just sort of strange, you know, some people think Santa’s elves and visualize some dipshit like me in tights and jingle bells.”

“You really hate those jingle bells,” Kravitz observes.

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, in all of the terrible jobs I have ever had, has been worse for my dignity than these fucking jingle bells.” Taako is incredibly serious. He stamps his foot to underscore his point, and he jingles. Ren laughs and she jingles.

“I kind of like jingle bells,” Magnus says, frowning. He picks at one on his ugly sweater-of-the-day. It depicts a dog in reindeer antlers and sunglasses and it is absolutely blinding with sequins.

“It’s a choice thing, you know? You woke up and chose jingle bells. I woke up and chose violence.”

Kravitz laughs so hard he almost breaks the North Pole sign he’s leaning against. Taako grins, counting that as another win in his column. They’re starting to stack up. He kind of hopes he can trade them in for something cool, like a tiny sticky hand, or some fuckin’ spider rings. Bling bling.

“What about you, Krav? You’re half-elf, yeah? Is it weird?”

“Krav?” Kravitz asks, looking like he’s gotten beaned in the head with a football. He slips from his spot against the North Pole sign and it does break, and he curses quietly. Merle laughs and goes to dig some sparkly duct tape out of Santa’s workshop.

Taako just grins. “That’s what I said.”

“Oh, um, it, I,” Kravitz covers his face a little, flustered. “I don’t ever really think about it, you know? I guess it is a little strange...” He smiles warmly at Taako, and Taako can almost hear the nickname repeating over and over in his head. Jackpot. Taako predicted right.

Pressure settles in to get those Santa pictures as Candlenights approaches, and every day gets busier and busier. There are fewer chances to settle down and lean and chat, and fewer chances to make Kravitz laugh, so Taako takes every single one he can get. He’s got their meals planned out to the last day, and that realization kind of settles in his stomach like concrete and raisins. It’s almost over. Which, you know, before was something to look forward to, something to celebrate. Finally, the holidays, and time with Lup, and peace. No more bells. But now, that means walking away from these goobers...and Kravitz. And no more job, which also sucks, but in a different way. He’s coming out of this with more cash than he expected, which is good, but it’s still going to hurt when he has to start looking again in January.

What’s really going to hurt, though, is saying goodbye.

He tries to avoid thinking about it, and when he can’t stop thinking about it, he tries to avoid Kravitz, but that’s nearly impossible. They work in close quarters in Santa’s Village, and they’re the only two that eat in the break room at that time, and Taako’s bringing his fucking lunches. He can’t just walk away, or Kravitz will think he’s mad at him, and he doesn’t want that, either. So he tries to avoid talking about it, but it just sort of comes out of his mouth.

“So, mac and cheese tomorrow, and for the last day, I was going to do turkey sandwiches on homemade bread and maybe some quick pickles?”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Kravitz stares at him like a lovesick puppy. There may as well be hearts in his eyes. Why doesn’t Taako just ask him out??

But what if he says no? At least they won’t be working together anymore, but the rejection terrifies him almost as much as losing Kravitz forever. And he’s definitely not going to do this next year. Next year, he’s going to be on TV. So this is the end.

“No one deserves me, Krav. I’m the greatest gift Santa ever gave to mortal men.”

“Guess I’d better go thank Merle,” Kravitz says, laughing, and Taako’s chest aches. Two days. Two days and it’s over. Fuck.

The last two days are fucking insane. There’s not a single chance to breathe, not a chance to laugh and tease and joke, only time to swap kids on Santa’s knee and overcharge for photos and hand out cheap candy canes. They’ve run out three times and Ren’s had to run away to buy some more, which has left Taako to deal with the little ones several times now. They’re almost kind of cute, until they cry. And then Taako wants nothing to do with them.

“Joyous Candlenights!” he calls, plastic retail smile strained. And good riddance, he thinks, after the last of the customers finally walks away with their photos. They’re more than an hour overtime.

“Maybe we’ll get a bonus!” Merle says, patting Ren and Taako on their lower backs, as they all pile into the Workshop to clock out.

“Fat chance.” Kravitz puts his tripod away and packs up his camera for the night. Taako almost wants to tease him about kissing it goodnight after tucking it in, but his heart is in his throat for some reason. “They hardly have enough money to pay us minimum wage.”

“You’d think at least you would be getting commission,” Magnus wonders out loud. Kravitz snorts.

“Yeah, you would think, wouldn’t you? If only. More reason to get out of here. If this mall is even open next year, you can bet I won’t be doing this again. This is my last year. I’m done. Even if I don’t have my own studio, you can bet I won’t be doing this.”

“Oh, uh, yeah?” Taako doesn’t know why that makes his heart feel funny. He wasn’t going to be here next year either. He had explicit plans to be anywhere, anywhere fucking else but here. But knowing that tomorrow is his absolute last chance brings out the nerves like the champagne at a New Year’s Eve party that’s gone off the rails, and he needs someone to kiss at midnight.

Well, he doesn’t need someone. But it would be nice, is the thing.

“Yeah, I’m done being treated like this, and you should be too. You deserve to wear clothes with some dignity while you work. Even khakis are better than jingle bells.”

“Yeah, true.” Taako’s nauseous. He needs to sit down. He needs to get out of here. One day. One more day. One last, final, only chance day.

It comes bright and early. Taako wishes for death. It does not turn his alarm off. He considers weeping like a little bitch, for a minute, but he doesn’t have the time or the energy, so he tables that for this evening and he gets his jingle on. Last day. Last day to wear these stupid fucking tights. He should be excited. He should be thrilled to have some time off, after working straight for nearly a month. Which may or may not technically be legal, but he needed the cash, and it’s not like he has a lot of people to buy gifts for.

Fuck, should he buy Kravitz a gift? If he buys him a gift, should he buy everyone else a gift? Are they going to keep in touch after this, or are they going to drift away on the wind? Taako’s seriously going to have to say goodbye to everyone, isn’t he?

He wants to throw up.

He makes an omelet and coffee instead, enough coffee to take to work. It’s still bad. He doesn’t know how he can be so fucking good at cooking and so bad at making coffee. There’s two ingredients--water and coffee. By all accounts it doesn’t make sense.

He drowns it in cream and sugar and goes to work anyway, nauseous and miserable and jingling all the way.

It’s fucking chaos. Absolute fucking chaos. This is the last day to get pictures with Santa, and all the slackers are panicking. There are more than twice as many people as the day before, and Taako doesn’t even get to say hello to Kravitz until their first break, and then he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to say at all.

Mostly, they sit there in silence and drink their sodas and try not to think about the insanity outside for fifteen minutes. It’s not enough. It’s never been enough before, but it’s especially not enough today, especially after working an extra hour last night, and then going home and making homemade goddamn bread, just to impress a guy. A hot guy. A sweet, funny, kind guy who needs him, just a little bit. His guy.

If only.

The sound of the clamour and clatter wallops them hard, and they’re nearly thrown back into the festive lion pit over the heads of these dumb assholes who waited until the last minute and want to make that Taako and Ren and Magnus and Kravitz’s problem. Mysteriously, Santa escapes much of the blame, although today beats the record for weird requests. Apples don’t fall far from the tree, but boy, do they bounce. One asks Santa Merle for a pig, a full sized pig that will eat their broccoli and sleep in their bed and sit on their brother. A little one quite earnestly asks him for some reindeer eggs so they can grow up to start their own Santa franchise. A tiny girl demands to see a dolphin and a lawnmower under the Candlenights bush, and a boy on the edge of teenagerhood asks for his parents to get a divorce, and, oh yeah, a snake, too. Santa ho-ho-hos and says he’ll see what he can do.

Taako’s favorite waits almost two hours in line, and then gets up to Santa and very politely requests a hot dog. Taako almost wants to buy her one.

He’s feeling a lot less charitable when they barely get away halfway through their lunch break, and he’s still fuming about it when he shoves a wax paper-wrapped sandwich at Kravitz and opens the little tupperware of quick pickles to share. He almost forgets to watch Kravitz enjoy the damn thing, but when Kravitz’s eyes roll back in his head, he cracks a little smile.

“Fuck, I’m going to miss this,” Kravitz says, mouth still half full, and he swallows thickly and tries a pickle and sighs so sweetly. “You’re incredible, Taako, simply incredible. I wouldn’t have gotten through this if it weren’t for you, you know? I knew this was going to be my last year when I agreed to do it again, and I was really-” he stops and takes another bite, which he has to stop and savor again, “I was totally miserable until I met you properly, you know? You saved this job for me.”

“Yeah, well,” Taako’s blushing, he’s blushing so hard he could fry up eggs and pancakes on his face, “You’ve made this shit pretty tolerable too.”

Kravitz just sort of smiles at him, and they eat their sandwiches as quickly as they can manage. Bread totally worth baking, even if it meant Taako didn’t get enough sleep last night.

“This is just incredible, I’m sorry for gushing, it’s just-”

“No, gush away, by all means. No one ever compliments my cooking like you do.”

“If I could afford to keep you on as my personal chef, you can bet I would.”

“Keep that in mind for when you get rich and famous. I mean, Obviously I’m still going to be on TV, but a side hustle can’t hurt, right?”

“Right,” Kravitz agrees, smiling helplessly. “Uh, listen, Taako, I, um, I was wondering, uh,”

“Fuck, I think it’s time to go?” Taako says in a panic, and Kravitz, sweet Kravitz, checks his pocket watch and swears like a sailor trying to take a shit in a hurricane.

“It is. I- Taako-”

“We’d better get back out there,” Taako interrupts hurriedly, not sure why he’s so nervous about this. He just doesn’t want to hear goodbye. He’ll avoid it by all means, if he has to, right up until the last fucking second. He might even end up hiding. It’s worked for him before.

“Right, but, but Taako-”

“They’re going to eat Magnus if we don’t get out there, babe, get with the picture.” He shoves the last pickle in his mouth and cleans up their mess, and Kravitz snags the last bit of his sandwich like he’d rather lose a hand to Taako’s cleaning than he would miss out on the remains of something so delicious, which is at least quite the ego booster among the continued nausea, and they head out, still holding hands like the first day. You know, so they don’t lose each other, and for no other reason. It occurs to Taako that this is the last time he’ll have an excuse to hold that pretty hand and he wants to scream, but he buries it deep instead, down where the fishes glow.

There’s not a single breath of a break from the time they get back until almost two hours after they were meant to close, mall security circling the line as stores shutter around them. Taako forgot his misery there for a while, just running on holiday cheer autopilot, and it all sort of hits him at once when the last picture is taken, and the patrons leave, and they clock out and get their things out of Santa’s workshop. Taako gets to go change in the restroom so he can leave the costume for the next dumb shit who agrees to sell his soul for minimum wage, and he pats the outfit one last time as he puts it in the Walmart bag, imagining throwing it in a hole and covering it in dirt, shovel by shovel. The owners can fucking wash it. He is not coming back to this mall until he absolutely has to. He returns to the Workshop and tosses it under the counter, hearing the final jingle with no small amount of satisfaction. He is free, and he is silent.

He lets Merle lock it up, and he shoulders his bag, and prepares to walk away, and Kravitz catches him. Fuck.

“Taako, I know we got interrupted earlier, and I’m sorry, I just- I wanted to say-”

Taako braces for impact, ready for the worst possible thing he could hear, and Kravitz surprises him.

“I think we should go out. I mean, I’d like to go out with you, if you, if you wouldn’t mind? I mean- I think we should celebrate, you know?” He smiles at Taako, radiating GO ON A DATE WITH ME energy, and Taako’s so flabbergasted he’d forgotten that was what he wanted in the face of having to hear a goodbye that his mouth drops open and he forgets what words to do.

Luckily or unluckily, Merle butts into the conversation. Taako considers violence. He also considers kissing Merle on the cheek to thank him. Okay, ew, maybe not that far, but he’s all wrapped up in anxiety and relief and confusion and meanwhile, Merle is hollering at the top of his lungs.

“That’s a GREAT idea!! We should go out to celebrate!! Let’s all go out together, like a family, and we can party off this hell of a day! What do you say??”

Kravitz looks like he’d like to explode into fourteen thousand tiny pieces and be swept away on the wind never to be seen again.

“That sounds great, Merle,” his mouth says. Taako almost wants to laugh at him, poor guy.

“Oh, YES! I’d love to go out with you guys!! Why haven’t we done this sooner!!” Magnus does a little dance in excitement, and Merle joins him with a much less PG set of moves.

“I’ll be the designated driver, if y’all don’t mind,” Ren says, finally reappearing from changing in the restroom. It’s weird seeing her in normal shoes. In fact, she looks adorable in a much less dramatic holiday sweater and jeans. She almost matches Magnus--hers says ‘Meowy Candlenights’ with a cat on it in a Santa hat, and Magnus’ says ‘Bah-hum-PUG’ with a dog on it. They’re too cute to look at directly, and it makes Taako want to gag a little bit.

Normally he wouldn’t go for this kind of teamwork-bonding crap. But Taako actually kind of got a kick out of these nerds, and it’ll be weird to just send them off. And he wouldn’t mind a drink. Plus...he wants to see where Kravitz was going with that, before they got interrupted. Because if he meant what Taako thinks he meant, well… That’s definitely worth sticking around, at least just a little while longer.

A little while longer turns into three drinks, maybe four or five. Magnus and Merle are gone on shitty beer and Ren is laughing and playing darts with them while she sips her Shirley Temples, and Kravitz sits by Taako and it’s all one big party. The bar is insane, but that almost kind of makes it better, like a real, proper holiday work party, not that Taako’s ever really gone to one. He tends to avoid that kind of cheesy crap. It seems to suit this crew, though. Maybe these people were the nachos he was looking for.

Or maybe he’s gone insane from all of those fucking Candlenights carols. Maybe that’s it.

He orders another spiked sparkling lemonade and heads back to his and Kravitz’s table. He’s a little tipsy, and Kravitz is blinking at him kind of slowly. Smiling. Always smiling at him. It’s one of the cutest things he does.

“Sorry about all this,” Taako decides to say, mouthing at his straw without looking at it. He probably looks like an idiot, but he finally catches it and takes a long sip. Tastes a lot better after you’ve had a few. He jams the straw up and down, muddling the lemon and strawberry at the bottom a little harder. It’s funny, he’s not even a bad bartender himself, but he can’t fucking make coffee. It’s insane. God nerfed him. It’s the only explanation.

“All what?” Kravitz props his head up in his hand. It’s loud, and people are singing holiday karaoke, and people are dancing, grinding on each other, spilling popcorn, and so on. Absolutely insane. It’s hard to focus, but it’s also hard for Taako to pull his gaze away from Kravitz’s gorgeous brown eyes.

“All those sweet idiots who decided to tag along.”

“Well, I’m kind of glad Ren decided to drive, cause I’m certainly not going to now.”

“True.”

“And the others are fine, they’re great,” Kravitz waves his hand. “I feel bad, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“You were trying to ask me out, huh?”

Kravitz blinks, and he smiles shyly, and covers his face a little bit.

“Yeah, okay, maybe I was. But- but it’s fine, this is fun too-”

“I would have said yes, Krav.”

“Oh.” A slow smile spreads on his face until he’s positively beaming, and Taako can’t help but laugh fondly. “Really?”

“Kravitz, I’ve been aching after you since day one, are you kidding?”

“Why didn’t you ask me out?”

“Why didn’t you, asshole?” Taako slurps his lemonade all the way down to the bottom, making an absolutely annoying noise. “I didn’t want to fucking get rejected and have to see your dumb handsome face every day until today.”

“I would have said yes too, Taako.”

“Good! Go out with me, then!”

“Maybe I will!”

“And buy me another drink!”

“After all of the meals you made me, I probably owe you enough drinks to get completely hammered.”

“Don’t hammer me. You can screw me, though, if you ask nicely.”

Taako can feel Kravitz’s face burning from here, and he has to laugh and cover his own hot cheeks.

“I’m kidding,” he adds, a little embarrassed. He’s not a slutty drunk, he promises.

“Maybe we could start with coffee?”

“Coffee would be, coffee would be very nice. I love coffee. Can’t make it to save my life.”

“Seriously? I used to be a barista. Is this it? Is this the skill you don’t have and I do? Oh my god, Taako, I’ve finally discovered your one flaw. I can’t believe this. I have to alert the media.”

“Go get me a refill, asshole!” Taako laughs.

“I’m going to make you the best coffee you’ve ever had, you got it? We’re- we’re going to go to a park, and I’m going to bring you coffee, and we’re going to go on a walk, and I’m going to take pictures of you in an outfit you’ll let other people see, and you won’t jingle-”

“And I won’t jingle,” Taako sighs.

“And then we could kiss by the lake, maybe even a picnic-”

“I could bring a picnic! Breakfast- no. Brunch picnic. I’m not getting up early tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Kravitz looks elated and terrified in the same breath.

“Yeah, tomorrow. You think I’m gonna let you slip away? Sides, I’ve got Candlenights with my sister and her boyfriend the next day. And I’m not waiting until I get back to town to kiss you.”

“You know,” Kravitz offers shyly. “You don’t have to wait until our date to kiss me either.”

“You know, Mister Photographer, you have a valid point.” Taako stands, and one more time, he pulls Kravitz by the hand through a crowd of loud idiots in Candlenights gear, and he tugs him out the front door and they’re kissing as soon as they’ve hit the sweet night air, wrapping their arms around each other and tousling hair and forgetting to breathe and every time they pull away, they’re going back for more, and it’s even sweeter than Taako’s been imagining for a month now.

“Fucking jouyous Candlenights to me,” Kravitz mumbles, and he goes back to sucking on Taako’s tongue, and Taako resolves to never say goodbye to Kravitz. They haven’t been on a single date, but they’ve spent every day together. They know each other pretty well. And Taako knows, he knows with all his heart, that he’s going to like being with Kravitz a whole lot.

“Guess my wish came true,” he says, breathless and tipsy and still feeling those perfect lips on his.

“What wish?”

“I got a boyfriend for Candlenights.”