Work Text:
Stanley turned over in bed, slowly waking up from his slumber. He stirred a bit, before opening his eyes a bit. Right before his eyes was the Narrator, laying next to him with a full smile. Stanley raised an eyebrow at him.
“Stanley, do you know what day it is?” He asked excitedly. Stanley did know, yes; it’d be a little hard to forget when his spouse had been ranting about it for weeks. But, just for fun, Stanley shook his head with a smirk. The Narrator gasped dramatically.
“Stanley, how could you ever forget? It’s Christmas day!!” He threw his arms upward in excitement, jostling the bed and forcing Stanley to wake up a bit more.
Their small apartment was filled with as many Christmas decorations that the Narrator could fit (and afford), tinsel draping along the window, the bathroom rugs and robes being replaced with something a bit more festive, and even new mugs were bought for the occasion. It was safe to say that he was pretty excited about the holiday.
“Come, come!” The Narrator urged Stanley, pushing him lightly as he himself stood up. Stanley shook his head playfully, and stood up, yawning. It was rare for the Narrator to be awake this early, but it was likely that the Christmas spirit and an absurd amount of caffeine helped with that.
Stanley stood in front of a small, plastic tree (Curator insisted on it, not wanting to have to clean up the mess) that was decorated to the brim with the most ridiculous ornaments he could have ever imagined. He was especially confused by the one picturing someone else’s dog. He decided to spare himself the headache, and shifted his focus to the gifts underneath it. They’d all gotten each other gifts; Stanley, Narrator, Curator, and Mariella. It only felt right – they had been trapped in there together to some extent, after all.
“Well, are you going to open something, or what? Come on Stanley, we don’t have all day. All of the stories said you open the gifts on Christmas morning!” he whined, but Stanley gestured with his thumb towards the door.
“Oh, right. We should likely wait for them, hm? Oh I do hope they remembered. If one of them oversleeps, our first ever Christmas together could be ruined!” he frowned, before suddenly perking up again. “Oh, but on the bright side, this gives me more time to prepare! Stanley, put on this sweater!”
Just as Stanley turned to look at him, the Narrator threw a big, heavy sweater directly into his face, knocking him back for a moment. He blinked a few times, and held it out in front of his face, turning it around until the words were visible. …’Merry Shrimpmas’. Alright.
Stanley tossed the oversized green sweater on, taking a minute or so to actually wiggle his head through the heavy thing. As he fully got it on, he watched the Narrator rushing about the room, making sure all the decorations were on securely, and he even put some instant hot cocoa in the coffee maker. Stanley smiled at his excitement over the day, noticing then that their sweaters were matching; the one main difference between the two articles of clothing was that while Stanley’s sweater was green, the Narrator’s was red.
A knock on the door knocked both of them out of their thoughts, and the Narrator rushed to get it, but stopped as he saw Stanley already opening it. As expected, Mariella and the Curator walked in with festive attire.
The Curator was adorned with a blue and white sweater vest, over top of a red and green thinly striped button-up blouse, with a very long and dark gray skirt with specks of white at the end to replicate the look of snow. In her ears sat two entire Christmas bulb ornaments, taking the place of her usual earrings. Her ensemble looked more fit for an art museum than a holiday, really.
In contrast to her girlfriend, Mariella was wearing a simple dress shirt and pants, but with the addition of a reindeer horns headband and Christmas tree earrings. The Narrator grinned excitedly at the two of them, as Stanley smiled and nodded at them.
“Ah, welcome, welcome! It’s so nice to see you here! Happy Holidays, and Merry Christmas!” he called out, extending his arms outward for emphasis.
“Merry Christmas, Stanley,” the Curator nodded at him, a pleasant smile on her face. “And you as well, Narrator. Merry Christmas.”
Mariella rolled her eyes playfully as her partner began excitedly talking to the Narrator about holiday festivities, and turned over to Stanley. She grinned at him, signing a greeting, and got one in return. She walked over to him, and they had a bit of silent conversation together while their respective lovers spoke loudly about the human holiday.
Suddenly the chatter in the room was interrupted by the Narrator loudly clapping his hands.
“Alright everybody, I do believe it’s gift opening time!” he announced to the room, and walked over to the tree, where earlier he’d placed four chairs around the tree so none of them would have to sit on the floor.
Stanley scanned the pile of gifts for the things he’d wrapped. They weren’t very hard to find, having the most crinkled wrapping paper out of all the things under the tree. He hoped distantly in his mind that his handwriting was legible enough as he took the hot cocoa off the machine, putting a dash of whipped cream and cinnamon on top, as well as eight mini-marshmallows – no more, no less. He handed it to the Narrator and sat down.
The Narrator took a sip of his drink, and placed it in his lap as he bent down to grab one of the gifts that was labeled for him. The others did the same, searching for their presents and placing them on their laps.
Mariella tried to open hers decently, but gave up rather quickly as Stanley’s wrapping proved to be quite difficult to open. Tearing into the crinkled paper with her nails, she had to put some real muscle into getting past the alarming amount of tape. Inside, she found a pale green dress shirt, still within the plastic packaging it was bought in. She smiled a bit, and shot the man a thumbs up when he glanced her way.
The present closest to the Curator was the one gifted to her by the Narrator, as evidenced by the attempt at making the wrapping look neater by an excessive amount of tape and a stick-on bow. Also the giant name tag with their names in elegant cursive showed off who it was from even more so than that. She unwrapped the packaging, careful not to harm the wrapping too much. Inside, she found a snowglobe, which was fancifully decorated to resemble some of the museum she used to reside. She smiled kindly at it, and nodded her thanks towards the Narrator when she next caught his eye.
Stanley reached over, and grabbed one he saw right off the bat, on account of how shiny the wrappings were. Seeing the tag labeling it as being from the Curator – not that it needed any indication, based on the extravagant packaging alone – he dropped it on his lap and tore past the fancy wrapping with minimal care (it’s not like he’s going to use it again or anything). Unwrapped, there sat the board game Scrabble. Stanley thought idly that such a gift would likely be better suited for the Narrator, but he was just grateful that he had been given something at all. He looked over at the Curator, waiting for her to look at him, and then signed a thank you towards the woman.
The Narrator hummed, not a fan of staying quiet. After staring at the present before him and weighing all the possible ways to open it in his mind, he realized that it was just basic paper wrapped around a box. He glanced at the tag. “Mariella…” he muttered, slightly agitated that she hadn’t even bothered taking it out of the box first. What if they’d gotten the wrong package? He’d heard stories of that sort of thing happening to people. How would they be so sure that this hadn’t happened to his present? This is why you must always check your packages, he thought to himself, as he opened said package. Upon going past the paper that lined it, and after prying upon the cardboard, his glasses practically sparkled in delight at what he saw. Inside was a notebook, a big one, a quality one. Thick sheets, many pages, writing utensils included. A smile spread along his face as his leg bounced with excitement. He quickly, and somewhat loudly, thanked Mariella, and then went to the rest of his gifts.
Every one of them agreed that it was a great first Christmas; they all had some excellent gifts, for one. The Curator had gotten a new set of earrings from Stanley, and several picture frames from Mariella; Mariella had gotten a new phone from the Curator, and a copy of the English Dictionary from the Narrator; The Narrator had gotten a set of various teas from the Curator, and a red and green plaid mug from Stanley; and Stanley had gotten a fidget cube from Mariella, and a pair of noise-canceling headphones that shone with brightly colored lights from the Narrator.
The Curator and Mariella spent the whole day over there, chatting and merry-making with the inhabitants of the apartment, drinking eggnog and trying out Christmas cookies, watching Christmas movies, pretty much just anything that the two nonhumans deemed a classic Christmas activity, that could be done from within the apartment, of course.
The night ended when Mariella fell asleep, at about 9 PM, in the middle of the brightly-colored movie they were watching. The Curator apologized for having to leave so soon, and then carried her girlfriend back to their shared apartment room, a few doors down. Stanley and the Narrator sat there on the bed together, the lights dimmed, and two mugs of hot chocolate in their respective hands.
The Narrator sighed contently, nestled up to Stanley as he felt himself start to fall asleep as well. He took a sip of his drink, and placed it on the bedside table. Stanley glanced over, and placed his mug by the other.
“This was a wonderful first Christmas, Stanley, I must admit.” The Narrator spoke sleepily, taking off his glasses and carefully putting them on the bedside table. “Merry Christmas, my dear.”
Stanley hummed in response, planting a kiss on the Narrator’s cheek as he watched him fall asleep next to him. Stanley smiled, shut off the television, and closed his eyes for some rest, arms wrapped tightly around his spouse.