Work Text:
December 21st. 10:47PM.
The air was cold enough to where he could see his breath as he walked up to Sam's house.
He looked down at the gift he brought for Sam. It was a christmasy looking bag with a racecar pattern all over a beanie. It was–in all honesty–last minute, but it's the thought that counts.
With a visible sigh to prepare himself, he rang the doorbell.
It didn't take long for Sam to open the door and show himself. At the sight of him, he leaned against the doorframe.
"Oh, Hey Mr. Stewart! Fancy seeing you here."
He was wearing a holiday sweater with lighting bolts and snowflakes in a pattern; it caught him off guard to not see him in race gear and a helmet.
"Hey Sam.. I'm here to give you a christmas gift." He brought the gift bag up to his eye level.
He stared at the bag, then took it.
"You brought it to me two days before it's even Christmas Eve?"
Now he wasn't going to tell him the reason he brought it early is because he pictured him messily ripping through wrapping paper in the name of speed and fearing the worst for his gift; though at the time he still thought whatever gift he was getting was going to be in a box.
"I wanted to give a gift to you early because.. you mean a lot to me." He came up with that on the spot but he did mean a lot to him, even if he didn't think like that explicitly. Sam was someone that took it upon himself to initiate conversation, and he became comfortable with that over time, giving them a bond.
Sam then had a look on his face that he couldn't figure out; it didn't look negative, so that's a good thing. Then, he put his hand behind his neck, looking somewhat nervous.
"Do you wanna come inside for a hot drink? Like a hot chocolate.. or apple cider.. or something similar, I'm not really remembering what I have in my fridge right now."
At first, he was going to turn him down; he only came to deliver the gift and leave. But he couldn't break his gaze with Sam's, and it would bother him later if he just left abruptly.
"Yeah, I can come in."
He was then led inside.
It was a normally decorated living room, all fit with a fireplace and a christmas tree, a star shining at the top of it.
While Sam set the bag down in the kitchen, he walked towards the tree and knelt down at all the presents under it. "There's lots of gifts down here, huh?"
Sam was in the kitchen looking through the fridge, and answered him loudly from the other room. "Yeah, I got presents from Mr. and Mrs. Thorndyke, Chris, some of his friends, and some guys at the Speed Team."
"Ah, that explains it then."
He got up from kneeling and walked to the kitchen where Sam had milk and two cups out, a red and yellow patterned one and a green and red one. Beside those were hot chocolate mix packets on the counter.
"Which cup do you want?" Sam asked.
He awkwardly slid the green and red one towards him and Sam grabbed the red and yellow one, and opened the milk, pouring an amount into his cup.
"Do you want milk or water?"
"..Milk is fine." He didn't realize it, but he muttered that. The situation finally sunk into him. He was sitting with a family friend/good friend of his, sharing a hot drink together. Something about that made him feel at ease, which in return bothered him.
Sam heard his response though, and after he poured it in the cup, he set the milk down and put his hand on his shoulder, which snapped him out of the weird state he was in.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm.. I'm fine." He moved his hand away from his shoulder and looked at his expression; Sam was actually concerned.
So, he took a breath and decided to tell him a lighter, but another weight on his shoulders. "The gift I got you.. there's not much thought into it. I don't even know if you'll like it."
Sam looked to think about something for a couple seconds, then grabbed the gift. "Well, maybe I should open it then to see if I do."
He stumbled over words for a moment trying to object, but he wasn't really against him opening it, so he watched him open the bag and grab the hat.
Sam had an initial laugh at it and he had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He looked down at the counter and shut his eyes shamefully to avoid looking at him.
"No no, I like it! I'm sorry for laughing."
"Sure you are..."
"I do! I'm going to put it on right now."
He didn't look up and only heard the shuffling of the hat being put on.
"Take a look."
When he did what he said, the hat was on his head.
"Huh.. you don't look bad. I'm kinda surprised."
"Wha-?! Did you think I've never worn this type of hat in my life or something?"
"I mean.. I don't see you in them much, so I wasn't sure."
Sam huffed a fake sigh but then quickly laughed again. "You are truly something. I like that about you."
His mind short circuited strangely when he heard that last part, but it went way as Sam grabbed both their cups to heat it in the microwave.
The milk was hot, the mix was in and it was stirred around.
"Boom! Hot Chocolate." Sam announced before taking a sip.
"Thanks for inviting me in. I'm actually quite happy I stayed." He was about to take a sip, but then yawned.
It suddenly hit him how late it was already when he got here, and how late it was continuing to be the more he stayed here.
"I'm just going to drink all of this and then.. I'll go." He then proceeded to try and chug down the drink, which he ended up failing at, so he slowed down. But, he did end up stomaching all of it down, making him a tad nauseous.
"Bit off more than you could chew? Or, drinked more than you could handle?" Sam remarked somewhat playfully.
He tried not to throw any of it up by holding his fist to his mouth and squeaked out a "mhm. yep." before closing his mouth again. He took a swallow of saliva to try and balance himself and then got up and walked weakly to the door. Sam's mood changed as he realized he wasn't doing too good and followed closely at his side, letting him hold onto his shoulder for extra balance. When they got to the door, Sam talked again.
"I- uh.. wanna thank you for the christmas gift. I didn't say it earlier, so I'm saying it now. I like it a lot."
He felt too uneasy to speak a lot of words for what he wanted to say, so he just gave him a smile. It looked more like an embarrassed smile with how his face was, but it was a smile nonetheless.
Sam opened the door for him, cold air hitting his face, and he let go of Sam to leave.
But before he could really get outside, Sam grabbed onto his jacket, jerking him back a little.
"Wait a second, you're just gonna go out and drive while nauseous?"
He turned to look at Sam but was slightly frozen due to him grabbing at his jacket so suddenly. He had a better chance of vomiting now than ever.
He took a large gulp to push it down and responded. "It's- it'll, uh- I'll get better as time goes on. It'll wear off." As he fully turned back around to face him, Sam let go of his grip on the jacket.
"Well, I don't want you to throw up or anything while you're driving home. I'm pretty sure it's a long drive from my house, right?"
Couldn't disagree with that logic. He nodded to him in response.
"So.. I want you to stay. Just enough to let it wear off. After that, you're free to go, I promise." He watched Sam's stare as he waited for a response. He heard truth in that request. He'd be stupid to turn it away. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that.
So now he was standing awkwardly by his door, holding water Sam poured for him to drink as the nausea wore off. The feeling in his chest came up again when he thought back to what Sam said. It was hopefully nothing to worry about. Yeah.
He stood there for what felt like a long while, but it had just became 11:09. The good news though was that it had mostly worn off, enough to where he was confident he could drive home. So he said goodbye to Sam and left.
And so he got to his car. And got in it. And the feeling still persisted. That haunting feeling of Sam holding onto his jacket. The feeling he had when Sam asked him to stay around longer. It hung around his thoughts like a ghost. Was he finally going crazy? He didn't know. And he didn't want to know. He needed to focus on driving home. It's way too late for this anyways.
Then it hit him that he never said 'Merry Christmas' or even 'Happy Holidays' to him.
He almost slammed his car horn in frustration.