Work Text:
It was the day Ocean had been waiting for since November. The day she had been meticulously planning for nearly two whole months. The day that kept her up at night, wracking her brains for ideas and ways to make it special.
And it was finally here. The day of the choir’s first ever Secret Santa.
Contrary to popular belief, Ocean could be pretty fun (thank you very much, Noel). She loved to plan big events and parties for holidays and birthdays and special occasions, and she always went all out on decorations, no matter what anyone else said. November was not too early for tinsel and Christmas lights in the choir room (thank you very much, Noel).
She had announced the event in the beginning of November, and they had all put their names into a hat and pulled them out at random. Ocean had been incredibly insistent about not revealing their names to each other, and she was almost certain that no one had let anything slip under her stern, rule-abiding gaze.
She missed the way Mischa immediately grinned and flashed his paper to Ricky, who grimaced and showed his back.
She was practically bouncing with excitement the entire way through choir rehearsal that afternoon, which was not a common occurrence. Usually, nothing could distract her from choir. But she had to physically sit on her hands to stop them from being so jittery and flappy while Father Marcus tried to teach them a new Christmas carol. But once Father Marcus finally left, Ocean stood up and whirled on the choir.
“Okay! Is everyone ready?” she announced to the room as she briskly strode up and down the small hall in front of the pews where they were all sat. Constance beamed and immediately reached for the inconspicuous gift bag she had been carrying around all day - that Penny and Mischa had been trying to peek in consistently.
“Now, there will be an order to this,” Ocean said primly, reaching into her skirt pocket for her small notebook where she had all the preparations for today written neatly out in cursive and decorated with excessive use of highlighter. She did love her stationary, after all. Though she was running out of her nice, inked pens.
Noel and Mischa both groaned in unison, and she shot them a glare. “Do you want this to get all confused? We need order or it will be all wrong.”
Noel grumbled something under his breath that she couldn’t hear, and Mischa snorted. She bristled.
“Hey! What did you say?”
“Ocean, ignore them,” Constance said quietly with a smile. “Who’s first?”
Ocean took a deep breath and nodded. “Right. Thank you, Constance. I am first.”
Noel rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”
“And I had Noel.”
“Oh.”
He paused mid-mock and looked down a little sheepishly. Ocean smirked, before shaking her head and deciding to let it go. It was Christmas, there was no use bickering. She trotted over to her bag, pulling out the neatly wrapped, rainbow paper and pushing it into his lap. He blinked at it.
“Thanks, Ocean,” he said slowly, admiring the paper. Ocean knelt down in front of him and impatiently tapped repeatedly on his knee.
“Open it!”
He swatted her hand away but smiled as he carefully peeled at the taped corners, taking care not to just tear the paper in half. At least that was one thing they agreed on; Ocean never ripped the wrapping paper on her gifts. Primarily because her family didn’t really do wrapping paper, but still. If they did, she would always be careful with it.
When he finally pulled the gift inside from its colourful confines, he gasped and held it up to his face for a closer look.
“There is no way,” he said, staring at the logo on the lid. Ocean had to bite her tongue to stop herself from squealing with excitement.
“It’s the really fancy brand you said you had been saving up for!” she blurted, tapping on his knees again, this time not to be annoying, just because she had to do something with her hands.
He gaped at her, before opening the pallet to reveal rows upon rows of gorgeous shades of eyeshadow, some matte, some sparkly, some natural, some vibrant, every single one perfect. She had taken so much care picking out this exact pallet, knowing that Noel liked the darker colours, but also dabbled in a little bit of glittery glam here and there.
“Ocean, you gem!” he squealed, almost matching her voice in pitch – which was a heavy feat by itself. He wrapped her in a tight hug, and she honestly felt happier than she had been in a while. She didn’t realise how exhilarating giving a gift could be. But, as annoying as Noel was, seeing how happy the gift she had spent hours thinking about and picking out made him; it had her grinning like an idiot.
“Thank you. Seriously. You’re the best,” he said, quietly enough that the others couldn’t hear. She gave him a final squeeze and pulled away.
“Cute, but let’s hurry it up. I have to be home in half an hour,” Ricky typed on his AAC. Ocean startled and nodded, stepping back.
“Right, of course. Noel, you’re next.”
Noel smiled and put his pallet away, pulling out a floppy, wrapped present from his school bag, topped with a bight red bow. He handed it to Mischa, who grinned widely and snatched it with no hesitation.
“Yo! You got me?” he exclaimed, shaking the gift beside his ear even though it was extremely clear that it was not a box of any kind. Noel scoffed.
“No, I’m giving it to you to pass on to Constance,” he said sarcastically.
Mischa’s smile fell, and Noel was quick to backtrack.
“I’m joking! It’s yours. Open it.”
Mischa, unlike Ocean and Noel, eagerly tore into it and tossed the shredded paper over his shoulder. Ocean scowled and darted behind the pew to pick it up. She really should have bought a bag for all of the wrapping paper – a silly oversight on her part. From the floor behind the pew, scooping up all of the paper, she heard a chorus of gasps and “ooh’s”.
“Noel, that is gorgeous!” Constance whispered in awe. Curious, Ocean quickly peeked her head over the pew to see what it was they were all goggling at. In Mischa’s hands lay what looed like one of his usual white school shirts, except the front wasn’t so plain. Painted delicately onto its front was a beautiful image of a girl in a sunny field with a flowing white dress – Talia.
Noel shrugged, clearly loving all the compliments, but mainly looking at Mischa, a hopeful, slightly nervous glint to his eye. “You sent me a bunch of photos of her, and one of them was the same one that Karnak projected onto your shirt during your song. So, I thought I’d make you a real one.”
Ocean gawked at it. She knew Noel liked art as well as writing, but she had no idea he was so talented. The painting truly was exquisite, each stroke laid perfectly to create the movement and character of Mischa’s fiancée. Ocean glanced at Mischa to gage his reaction – he hadn’t made a sound since the shirt had fell into his hands.
Upon closer inspection, she noticed that this was because he was currently silently crying his eyes out, lip trembling. Noel startled.
“Jeez, it’s not that good. Are you okay?” he asked, panicking slightly. Mischa looked up at him, eyes shining and wet, sniffling, before hugging it to his chest and leaning onto Noel’s shoulder, seemingly unable to even string two words together.
Noel laughed and put an arm around him, and Constance quickly snapped a photo of the scene, cheekily hiding her phone from view to send it immediately to Talia. But Mischa quickly caught on and lunged to snatch her phone away.
“Too late! Sent!” she trilled, dancing out of the way. Mischa groaned, hiding his face in embarrassment.
“Now she will see I cry over a painting of her!” he whined, holding the shirt up to gaze at it again.
“I swear you cry on phone to her like every night anyway,” Penny commented absently. “She told me that whenever she sends you a photo from one of her photoshoots that you call her in tears, ranting about how beautiful she is.”
Mischa gaped, ears burning red as Ricky and Noel started broke into laughter.
“I regret giving you all my Talia’s number,” he mumbled, slumping back down into his seat. Ocean suppressed a smile as she walked back out in front and clapped to get everyone’s attention.
“Right! Mischa, your present.”
“Give me second!” Mischa cried, wiping desperately at his eyes. “I am having emotional moment!”
“We don’t have time for emotional moments!” she snapped, clicking her fingers below Mischa’s nose. He scoffed and stuck his middle finger up at her before standing and stalking away. Ocean watched him go, for a moment genuinely just thinking he was going to leave the room out of pure spite. But he arrived instead at the choir room’s cupboard and stepped inside, disappearing into the cramped darkness.
They all watched and listened to the occasional crash of percussion or clatter of boxes or Ukrainian curse word.
“Who do you think he has?” Ocean whispered, trying hard to think of what he could be looking for. The entire rest of the choir all looked at each other. They all knew who everyone had gotten. Not that they were about to tell Ocean that.
Eventually, Mischa yelled a loud “Ahah!” and he emerged from the cupboard carrying the most enormous, fluffy, life-sized, white plush sheep she had ever seen in her life. Penny beamed and immediately hopped out of her seat to run to him – no one even had to say it was for her. They all just knew.
Meeting her half way, he grinned and presented her the sheep. “You said sheep were your favourite, and your name is Lamb. Perfect present.”
She clapped her hands and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet as she took the humungous plush from him and turned back to the choir. Ocean couldn’t even see Penny from behind the thing.
“How long has that been in there?” she asked, pointing to the cupboard. Mischa shrugged.
“Month?”
“Thank you so much, Mischa! This is the best present ever,” she said, voice muffled from the fluffy wool covering her face. Mischa smiled and petted her on the head as he strolled past and sat back down next to Noel.
“That is adorable,” Ricky’s AAC said as she waddled over and placed the sheep down beside her bag. She flapped her hands and nodded, ecstatic. Then she gasped and smiled at Ocean.
“That means it’s my turn, right?” she asked. Ocean nodded.
Penny dug around in her bag for a moment, before pulling out what looked like a small, leather-bound book.
“I had Constance,” she explained as they all looked it at, before holding it out to the person in question. “Sorry it’s not wrapped or anything – I didn’t think about that.”
Constance beamed and took it, looking at the front cover, littered with colourful stickers and drawings and patterns.
“Saint Cassian Chamber Choir Memories,” she read, smile only growing as she flipped open the front cover and peered inside. She made a little sound in between a squeak and a sob as she turned it around to show everyone else.
Across the double page was a rainbow of stickers and washy-tape and brightly coloured writing, mixed in with photos of the choir that they had all taken together with Ricky’s polaroid camera since the accident. Ocean found herself smiling at the photos – one in particular taken with Father Marcus on Mischa’s birthday, when Mischa had hauled the Father into the photo last minute and everyone else had rushed to photobomb before the flash came. It was pure chaos, and somehow, Ocean didn’t mind it.
“This is so sweet,” Constance said, smiling up at Penny as she flicked through the rest of the pages, all full to the brim of photos and writings and drawings and stickers and everything that Constance loved. “Thank you so much.”
Constance wiped hurriedly at her eyes and laughed sheepishly at the little giftbag she still held tightly in her fist.
“Mine feels so stupid now. Everyone else’s has been so cool.” Ocean shook her head.
“Don’t be silly! Yours will probably be cool, too!” she tried. Noel just shrugged.
“No one here is judging or being a jealous bitch.”
“Language, Noel!”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a smile. Constance nodded and held the little gift bag out to Ricky, who beamed and took it, peering inside eagerly. They all watched for his reaction as he looked in the bag, before he looked up, eyes glimmering and smile wide. He reached inside and pulled out a big, iced cookie – painted to look like a ginger cat with a collar reading the name Mittens. Penny cooed over it and Mischa gasped, snatching the bag to look inside himself.
“You make cookies for him?” he asked excitedly, eyes hungry. Noel snatched the bag away.
“They’re Ricky’s! Don’t be greedy,” he said as he pulled one out himself: a grey tabby with the name Gertrude. Ricky hastily typed into his AAC device.
“There are fourteen of them, all the same colours and names of my cats!”
Constance nodded, curly hair bouncing excitedly. “Yeah! Your mom wrote all the names down for me last time we hung out at your place!”
“I almost don’t want to eat them. These are so cute.” Ricky smiled fondly at a mustard-coloured cat, nametag reading (creatively) Mustard.
“They also look tasty, though,” Mischa said, looking longingly at Gertrude in Noel’s hand. Ocean scoffed and snatched Gertrude away, handing her back to Ricky.
“Honestly! Hands off other people’s gifts, you two,” she chided.
“They are gluten free, too. Your mom told me all of your allergies before I got to work baking these little guys,” Constance added. Ricky grinned as he put Gerturde, Mittens and Mustard back in the bag and held his hands up to make a heart with his fingers. Constance returned the gesture with a grin.
“And that means Ricky has me, right?” Ocean said, hands behind her back, biting her lip to hide her own anticipation and excitedness. Ricky nodded and reached into his own bag, clicking a button to share a prewritten message while he searched for the gift.
“I didn’t really know what you would like, so I kind of just threw a bunch of little things together. I hope it’s all okay and not too stereotypically nerdy.”
Mischa snorted and laughed. “Ocean is nerd!”
Ocean elbowed him as she took the little hamper Ricky pulled out.
The first thing her eyes fell on was a thick, purple book. She pulled it out to see that it was a little handheld dictionary – her old one had been ripped to shreds by Noel’s stupid little crusty dog last week and she had been distraught about it. She gasped and kept looking through: a new set of fancy inked pens (how did he know she was nearly out?), a small array of coloured paperclips and bookmarks, and two sheets of stickers. One of the sheets adorned with pictures of books and cups of coffee, reading things like BOOK WORM or A book a day keeps the idiocy away! While the other held little pictures of planets and the solar system and astronauts.
Ocean squealed as she hopped up and down on her toes, grinning so hard she thought she might actually implode.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she squeaked, unintelligibly high and loud. Ricky nodded awkwardly, but was cut off by Ocean immediately running to him and throwing her arms over her shoulders, rambling all the way.
“You knew I needed a new dictionary! I was so lost without it, this is amazing— oh and the paperclips! I am always running out of those. And you know you can never go wrong with stationary! Ricky you are a genius.”
Noel snorted as he plucked out the first sheet of stickers, mumbling something like, “Yup, these are so inexplicably you.”
“Well, I think this all went well then,” Penny said, happily hugging her colossal sheep. Ocean distantly wondered how she was even going to get that thing home with her, but discarded the thought.
“Thank you everyone for coming today,” Ocean said, clapping as she stood up and cleared her throat to calm herself down.
“This isn’t a formal event, Ocean,” Constance giggled as she stood and took her hand. Ocean nodded, looking around to see everyone already packing up their things, ignoring her little ending speech entirely.
“Right. So, since this is the last day of school before the holidays, I hope you all have amazing Christmases!”
Mischa scoffed. “I will sneak out and get drunk. You want to come?” he said to Noel and Constance. Noel immediately nodded and Constance went to follow, but Ocean tugged her hand back.
“No thanks, Mischa,” she interjected, nose scrunched up disdainfully. Constance quickly copied, but not before mouthing a quick, “I’ll be there” to Mischa.
So, as everyone filed out of the room, Ocean watched them all go, feeling oddly warm and fuzzy. Out of all the events and birthdays and celebrations she had planned for schools and for her parents, this had been her favourite, by far.