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Shallan wanders into the living room a bit after nine am, smiling as she looks through the window and sees snow gently falling. There’s probably less than an inch on the ground, but any amount of snow is still exciting to her. Christmas with her family had always been a stressful and snowless affair, so to be here, with the two people she loves more than anything, and to see the world coated in white… it’s magical.
Speaking of people she loves, Kaladin is sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, squinting at the daily Sudoku. (The puzzles and cartoons are basically the only worthwhile part of the news, as far as Shallan and Kaladin are concerned, but Adolin insists they keep their subscription so he can “stay up to date on current events.” He seems to think reading newspapers online will kill him or something.) Shallan grabs a yogurt from the fridge, stabs a spoon in it, and sits down across from Kal. “Hey.”
He tears his eyes from the Sudoku with difficulty and gives her a quick kiss. “Hey. Glad you’re up.”
“I set an alarm,” Shallan says with no small amount of pride. She’s been known to sleep well past noon when left to her own devices, but today is Christmas, and so she decided to make an effort. “I beat Adolin!”
“We should probably wake him up. There are presents to open, and then we’re going over to his family’s house for lunch. I’m willing to bet he’ll need a minimum of three hours just to pick a suitable outfit.”
“True.” Shallan grins. “Now that he’s started wearing feminine clothing, he has double the options. He’ll be absolutely paralyzed by indecision.”
“It’s a relief you two aren’t the same size. He’d be an absolute menace.”
They stand up together, holding hands as they quietly open the bedroom door and lift the blinds to let the white winter sun shine in. Adolin is fast asleep, the blanket bunched around his hand, mouth slightly open and hair flopping in his face. Syl, curled up at his feet, wakes up and jumps excitedly off the bed, wagging her tail as she goes to greet Shallan and Kaladin, but Adolin doesn’t budge.
“Okay,” Kaladin whispers. “Can you think of any really upbeat, noisy Christmas songs?”
“Um…”
“Oh, I got it.” Kaladin hits play, and Jingle Bells starts blasting.
Adolin’s eyes open slowly, and he swipes feebly at the air. “Turn it off.”
“No,” Shallan says gleefully, and starts singing along, widening her eyes in an attempt to convince Kaladin to join as well. The attempt fails because he is, affectionately, a spoilsport. This doesn’t stop Shallan from singing as loudly as she can. “JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS, CHRISTMAS RED AND GREEN… OH WHAT FUN IT IS TO RIDE IN A KHARBRANTH PALANQUIN…” Luckily, the original purpose of their mission to the bedroom is successful as Adolin rolls slowly out of bed, looking very groggy and confused.
“What time is it?” he mumbles.
“Present time,” Shallan trills, giving him a peck on the cheek. Kaladin gives him a quick kiss on the other cheek for good measure, and Adolin grins.
“If you insist. Should I… get dressed?” He surveys Shallan, who’s wearing a very thin camisole and some incredibly ugly blue and green checkered pants, and Kaladin, who has on a Bridge Four t-shirt and boxer shorts. “Nope, we’re doing Christmas in our pajamas. Got it. Give me ten minutes to put on some makeup and brush my hair.”
Kaladin crosses his arms. “Five minutes.”
“Seven minutes.”
“Whatever.” Kaladin grins at Shallan, raising his eyebrow. “Hey, want to go find a way to distract ourselves for seven minutes?”
“Um, yes.”
When Adolin joins them in the living room, approximately nine and a half minutes later, they both have glazed eyes and mussed hair, and Adolin knows their rosy cheeks aren’t from the cold weather.
“Merry Christmas,” Kaladin says sheepishly, pressing his swollen lips together.
Adolin grabs a Pop-Tart from the box on the counter, narrowly dodging Maya as she winds around his feet, her long tail whipping his legs. “All right, break it up,” he says with a grin, vaulting over the couch in a way that looks incredibly silly but also kind of cool. “It’s gift time, people.” He reaches under the tree, grabs a package at random and checks the tag, then tosses it at Kaladin.
Kal catches it reflexively but doesn’t open it yet. Instead, he takes Shallan’s hand again and pulls her to the couch. The three of them sit side by side, with Kaladin squished in the middle as he carefully opens the gift, taking great pains not to tear the wrapping paper. A dark gray hoodie falls out, and Kaladin regards it for a minute.
“I already own a million hoodies,” he says flatly, and Adolin kisses the top of his head.
“Yes, but you see, this is one of my hoodies. So it’s special.”
Shallan pouts playfully. “I didn’t get an Adolin hoodie. You’re playing favorites.”
“You already have one,” Adolin says. “I can’t give them away too often. The value would tank. Supply and demand, Shallan.”
Kaladin pulls the hoodie over his head, flailing for a second before managing to find the arm holes. Having won the battle, he leans back contentedly against Adolin, who wraps an arm around his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Kaladin whispers. “It smells like you.”
“My turn!” Shallan gets up and starts grabbing the gifts under the tree and piling them up on the coffee table. “What?” she says as she notices her boyfriends staring at her. “This will make it easier. Look, they’re in easy arm’s reach now. We won’t even have to get up!”
“Not all of us are as anti-exercise as you, Shallan,” Adolin teases.
“Hey, I’m very pro-exercise, especially when it involves whacking you with a sword.” Shallan assumes a fencing position and a threatening glare, which looks very silly under the circumstances. “Anyway, if you guys just got me art supplies for the second year in a row, I’m going to be very sad.”
“That one’s not art supplies,” Kaladin says grumpily as Shallan selects a rectangular present wrapped in paper with the glyph for “snow.”
It is, in fact, art supplies. But Shallan has to admit they’re very nice. A new brush set, which she desperately needs after Pattern got ahold of her current set and chewed on all the bristles. The handles are made from beautiful dark stumpweight wood and make her itch to start a new painting right then and there.
Adolin opens a gift next, which are socks from Shallan. Arguably a boring gift, yes, but these ones have cats on them and the words fuck off in flowery script . “I thought the cat looked like Maya,” Shallan explains, “and you can wear these to our holiday lunch with your dad. If he starts getting on your case about your makeup or your clothes, just shove your feet in his face.”
They all laugh at that mental image.
Shallan gets a gift from Navani, Adolin’s stepmother, who’s basically taken Shallan under her wing as well. It’s an illustrated guide to Thaylen ecology. Random, but very cool. She flips through it for a minute, marveling at the full-color illustrations and diagrams, until Kaladin waves his hand in front of her face. “Earth to Shallan. Stop looking at moss or whatever. I’m opening your gift.”
“Fine, Mr. Attention Seeker, I’ll look at you instead.” Shallan runs her fingers through Kal’s hair, admiring his jawline and his beautiful bumpy nose. He blushes and glances at Adolin, who is similarly thirsting after him.
“Stop being so gooey-eyed, both of you! Storms. I’m trying to open this, and you’re being distracting.”
“We can’t help it.” Adolin makes a big show of swooning, lifting his hand to his forehead and flopping dramatically onto Kaladin’s lap. “You’re just too handsome.”
Kaladin does eventually succeed in opening his present, though, which turns out to be a pair of dark blue crocheted mittens - “for when you go on those runs late at night or early in the morning and your hands get cold,” Shallan says - and also a pair of reindeer antlers on a headband - “because I thought you would look cute wearing them.”
“I am not wearing these,” Kaladin protests grumpily, and a scuffle quickly ensues between all three of them. Shallan straight-up tackles Kaladin while Adolin makes a grab for the antlers, but Kaladin holds them up out of reach until Adolin manages to pull his arm down. Then Shallan wrestles them out of his (incredibly strong and sexy) grip and jams them on his head haphazardly. They all lean back on the couch, Kaladin defeated, the other two flush with victory.
There are more presents. Adolin gets some fancy wine and a hot pink crop top, Kal opens a new set of AirPods and a squeaky dog toy for Syl in the shape of a sword, and Shallan, to no one’s surprise, is gifted two more sketchbooks.
“I have an idea,” she says. “This one will be my Adolin sketchbook, and this one will be my Kaladin sketchbook. Ha! Now I have an excuse to draw you…” She checks the page count of the sketchbooks… “at least 80 times. I’ll just keep going until I run out of paper.”
Kaladin rolls his eyes at this, but when Adolin wraps them both in a tight hug, he doesn’t resist.
One hour (and one bottle of wine) later, they’re lying in a cozy heap on the bed, with all three animals purring and/or sleeping happily on top of them. Shallan is lazily running a pale hand down Adolin’s now-bare back as he kisses Kaladin’s face softly, and Kaladin twists Shallan’s hair idly around his finger and pets Pattern with his other hand.
“I love you,” Kaladin whispers softly, and the other two echo it back. They relax into each other’s touch, like they were made for each other and for this single moment. Later there will be wrong turns on confusing country roads, and awkward family conversations, and one of them will get drunk on candy cane martinis and do an embarrassing dance to Santa Baby, the video of which will be played at every family function for the rest of their life. But for now, it’s just them, and the warmth of the moment, and the snow still falling outside.
It’s heavenly.