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When you first met Adrian, you really would have pegged him as more of a Halloween guy.
But maybe you were giving a bit too much credit to the whole Vigilante side of him. Yeah, he loves horror movies, especially the gory slashers. He likes dressing up, too, especially now that you’re in a relationship and you can do cute couples costumes. And crime rates always spike around Halloween, which means he gets to kill more people when he goes out on patrol, so he’s always in a fabulous mood that time of year.
Still, Adrian has some real nostalgia for Christmas time. When you move in together, he’s so enthusiastic about putting up the tree, browsing for little kitschy animal ornaments and insisting that rainbow string lights are better than the boring white ones. He makes the switch to his Christmas playlist immediately after Thanksgiving, and even when it’s not actively blasting at full volume from his phone, he’s humming absently to some holiday song. And to your surprise, he loves watching Christmas movies. You do a marathon every year—a Christmas movie every day in the month of December leading up to Christmas.
Early in your relationship, you’d guessed that his favorite was Die Hard. Nope. It’s Home Alone.
In retrospect, if you had thought it through a bit more, that probably should have been your first guess. A little kid kicking some criminal ass, making snarky jokes about it the whole time? Yeah, you can see how that movie would have made a significant impression on baby Adrian, who is now a grown man who kicks criminal ass and makes snarky jokes about it on a daily basis.
It’s even got a tarantula in it, you realize. Maybe that’s where his whole spider obsession first started. And he probably sees some of himself and Gut in the relationship between Kevin and Buzz, though you’ve never said as much to him.
This December marks your fifth Christmas as a couple, and for the first time, you’re absolutely stumped about what to get him for Christmas. It feels like an important milestone, so you don’t want to do anything basic. Adrian has a lot of hobbies and interests that you can fall back on, but nothing feels like enough. Adrian’s Christmas spirit is infectious; your own love of the holiday has sparked again since you’ve been with him, and you feel like you want to show him some appreciation for that, but you’re not sure how to communicate it.
You bring it up one day with the 11th Street Kids while Adrian is working at Fennel Fields, just to get some perspective from all of your friends.
“I don’t know, man. We usually just buy each other new guns every year,” Chris says. “Sometimes a different weapon. A crossbow if we’re feeling fancy or we got a decent deal. I think he gave me some grenades last year?”
“Adrian wrapped up a box of grenades for you?” John asks. “Jesus Christ. Can you guys be normal for like, one day a year?”
“He likes guns!” Chris says defensively.
“He does like guns,” you agree. “But I don’t want to get him guns.”
“Your boyfriend is a fucking nerd,” John reminds you. “I know his main hobby is murdering people, but he also likes video games and shit. I got him some Pokémon cards this year.”
“I got him a gift card for the movie theater,” Adebayo interjects. “He likes movies, and he’s always going on about how he’s broke and he never gets to go see the new ones until they get the DVDs in at the library.”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Chris says.
“Me and Adrian don’t even do gifts, really,” Harcourt says. “I get him a bag of Sour Patch Kids, he gets me a bag of peanut butter cups, and we call it even.” She crosses her arms and stares you down. “You know he would be happy with you naked on a bed with a bow slapped on your forehead. Stop stressing so much.”
“I know that,” you grumble. “But that doesn’t feel thoughtful enough. I give him that all the time. Minus the bow, obviously.”
“I did not need to know that,” John says, grimacing.
“You’re just jealous they have a healthy sex life, Economos,” says Chris, and John rolls his eyes.
“Whatever, man.”
“Well, maybe Harcourt is onto something,” Adebayo says.
“She is?”
“Think about experiences you can give him instead of material things, ya know? Something to do instead of something to have. What’s something he’s always wanted to do? Or something you think he might like, that he would never think of?”
“Hm,” you consider, and the gears in your mind start turning as you think of the movie you’d watched together last night, the way Adrian had cackled on the couch next to you. “I might be able to work with that…but I might need some help.”
It takes a couple weeks to organize everything and gather all the materials. There’s a lot more work that goes into it that you initially thought.
You catch Adrian trying to look over your shoulder at your phone screen one afternoon as you’re placing an order and scold him.
“I’m working on your Christmas present! Don’t spoil it!”
“A surprise? For me?” he asks, excited. “What is it, what is it?”
“It’s not a surprise if I tell you!”
Adebayo rewatches the movie with you and helps you take detailed notes on everything you’ll need. John does some digging on real estate websites, finds an abandoned building on the edge of town that you can use for the night, and rigs the electrical box so it’s got power. You have everything shipped to Chris’s place so Adrian won’t see any of it until it’s ready.
Finally, you send a few strategic Instagram messages from a burner account to recruit the people you’ll need. Everything is coming together exactly the way you want it to.
You plan it all for one evening just a few days before Christmas. Adrian is working the dinner shift, so you’ll have time to set everything up. Harcourt and John do a sweep of the building that afternoon to make sure it’s clear while you, Chris, and Adebayo load everything up into your trunk to drive it over, making one last stop at Home Depot to pick up a few last-minute items.
“Thanks for all the help, guys,” you say gratefully, hands on your hips as you stare at the pile of stuff on the floor. “I really, really appreciate it.”
“He’s gonna fucking love this, dude,” Chris says. “For real.”
You smile as they file out of the building and head home, leaving you to call Adrian. He gets off soon, but he’s still at work, technically. Still, he picks up immediately anyway, because he always does when it’s you.
“Hey, baby,” he says. “What’s up?”
“I have a surprise for you when you get off work,” you say.
“Is my Christmas present ready?” he asks.
“It sure is. I’m dropping you a pin. Meet me here when you get off, okay?” You send him the coordinates and wait a beat. “Did you get it?”
“Babe, that’s in a bad part of town,” Adrian says, a note of real concern in his voice. “What are you doing over there?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do,” he says, offended that you would even ask. “I just want you to be safe.”
“Then just do it, okay? I promise you, it’s for a good reason.” You think he can hear the smile in your voice, because he relents easily after that.
“Okay. I’ll see you in, like, fifteen minutes. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll see you soon.”
There’s not much left to set up, really, because you want to let Adrian have most of the fun, so you leave everything in a giant heap on the dusty floor. It’s getting dark, so you flick on the lights, illuminating the massive pile of stuff.
It looks like a lot of random shit. A pyramid of junk, really. Paint cans, a blow torch, a bucket of glue, nails, rope, wire, bricks, a BB gun, tar, a box of Christmas ornaments, an iron, some feathered pillows. There’s more there, too, buried in cardboard boxes and crates.
It’s everything Adrian will need to trip, trick, beat, electrocute, and blunt-force-trauma the fuck out of the two unlucky drug dealers who think they’re coming here to sell you some cocaine tonight. Just like Kevin McAllister does to the thieves in the Home Alone movies.
You haven’t missed a thing. Well, except the tarantula. You thought it might be overkill bringing an unwilling living creature into this. Adrian would love a pet spider, though. Maybe you’ll table that idea for his birthday in June.
You hear the rumble of the Vigilante-mobile pulling up a few minutes later, and you’re filled with excitement. You know he’s going to love it, you do, but some part of you is still nervous, too, when you see Adrian walk in the door with a suspicious look on his face.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” you say, spreading your arms to present the pile of random crap on the floor.
“Um,” Adrian says. “What…the fuck?”
“It’s a couple days early, but this is your present,” you explain.
“What…is it?”
“You can’t figure it out?”
“I do not have a fucking clue, babe,” Adrian says, scratching his head. Then he remembers he’s receiving a present and he’s supposed to be grateful, and he adds, “But thank you?”
“What’s your favorite Christmas movie, Ade?”
“Home Alone,” he says immediately.
“Well, this is everything you need to recreate almost every booby trap in the movies. The first and the second. And I’ve got two drug dealers who want to sell me some cocaine who will be at this location in approximately…” You check your phone. “Four and a half hours. So you have time to set it all up before they get here.”
Adrian is silent for a beat as he takes it all in, eyes drifting over the stockpile on the floor.
“Sorry I didn’t wrap it,” you say after a moment, when he still hasn’t said anything.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
You’re wringing your hands, now, suddenly nervous that he hates it, that he’s mad at you, because you’re not sure how to read his reaction.
“I am not kidding you.”
The look on his face is priceless as it finally sinks in—the wide smile that breaks across his face, the way his eyes get comically bigger, the way his hands tug at the roots of his hair in disbelief as he stares around the room.
“Oh my god,” he says. “Oh my god, you are the best girlfriend ever, holy shit.”
“Do you like it?” you ask, still a little hesitant, and he gapes at you.
“Do I like it?” he repeats incredulously. “This is—this is the best present I’ve ever gotten in my whole entire life. Oh my god.”
Excitement leaks out of every pore of his body as he practically tackles you, sweeping you up off your feet and knocking the breath out of your lungs as he squeezes you in the tightest hug of your life. He literally jumps up and down, jostling you in the process, and you cling to him for some semblance of stability and let out a startled yelp.
“This is gonna be so fucking sick. Oh my god, I can’t believe it. They’re drug dealers, you said? Oh, hell yes—I have to go home and get my Vigilante suit—”
“I’ve already got it, it’s in my car, baby,” you say, arms tight around his neck and legs dangling in the air, because he still hasn’t put you down. His eyes are alight with childish Christmas joy as he looks up at you.
“You are the best. I love you so much. So, so much,” he says, and he lets you slide down his body to your tiptoes so he can kiss you thoroughly in thanks. He’s so excited that it’s not even a good one—a sloppy, enthusiastic mess, but isn’t that everything you love about him?
“Oh my god are you gonna help me set it up?” he asks as you break away for air. “Please, please, please, it will be so fun—”
“If you want me to,” you say.
“Yes! Hell yes! Oh, my god, what should we do first? The tar on the steps? No—the paint cans from the ceiling, it’s got to be that, that’s classic—wait, did you get that thing to make the doorknob all hot?”
“I did,” you confirm.
“Fuck yes,” he says. “Oh, you are the best.”
For the next few hours, you run around at Adrian’s instruction, helping him set up booby traps while his infamous Christmas playlist blasts from his shitty phone speaker and echoes through the mostly-empty building. But he laughs, and he smiles, and his joy is so goddamn contagious, because you’re laughing and smiling too, and he can’t stop pausing to kiss you and tell you how grateful he is every five minutes.
When your alarm goes off on your phone, you let him know.
“They’ll be here in half an hour. I should go,” you tell him. “You need to put your suit on, still. It’s in my car, let me go grab it.”
Adrian follows you out to your car and leans against the back door while you pop the trunk, reaching inside for the duffel bag with his Vigilante suit folded neatly inside. As he takes it from you, he kisses you for the hundredth time that night, and you giggle against his mouth, reaching up to brush a sticky spot of tar off his cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie.
“How are you already a fucking mess?” you laugh.
“I’m always a fucking mess,” Adrian says. “You know this about me. You signed up for it. No take-backsies.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go get ready, Vigilante,” you order, shoving him away playfully. He salutes you as he steps back and opens the driver’s door for you.
“Drive safe,” he tells you. “Text me when you get home.”
“I know the drill,” you say, kissing his cheek one last time before you duck into the car and turn the key in the ignition. “See you later. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. Thank you.”
He steps back from the car so you can pull out of your spot safely, but just before you go, you roll down the window and call his name. He raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t forget to say, ‘Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal,’” you remind him. His eyes light up.
“You’re a genius, babe. That would have been a total missed opportunity.”
“Best Christmas present ever,” Adrian declares as soon as he walks in the door a few hours later. You’ve changed into your pajamas, soft and comfy, but you’ve been waiting up for him.
He’s taken his mask off, but he’s still got the Vigilante suit on, and it is filthy, covered in spots of paint and tar and blood and some stray feathers. It will definitely need a wash. It’s really unfortunate that it’s not washing-machine safe, and the dry cleaners would ask too many questions, because that means you will be doing a deep clean tomorrow. But the smile that’s on Adrian’s face right now is worth every bit of scrubbing you’ll have to do in the morning.
“You had fun?”
“I had the most fun I’ve ever had ever!” he says, and he starts dismantling the suit right there in the foyer, leaving it in a messy pile by the front door. You smile, arms crossed, enjoying the view as he strips down to his undershirt, baring his biceps and the slope of his neck.
“Well, the night isn’t over, you know,” you say, teasing. “I still have a second part of your Christmas present to give you.” Adrian cocks his head as you walk toward him.
“Nothing else happens in the movie?” he says. “Unless we’re going to New York. But I don’t really want to do that. At least not right now.”
“We’re not going to New York,” you say. “You do have to say thank you to Chris, John, and Ads tomorrow. Because they helped me a lot, setting all that up. But there’s one more thing waiting for you in the bedroom that was all me.”
You walk backward in the direction of your room, beckoning him with one finger and grinning.
“Is the second part of my present a sexy surprise?” Adrian asks excitedly, waggling his eyebrows as he bounds down the hallway after you like a clumsy puppy. His arms come around you just as you swing open the door, and his eyes land on the massive box sitting on top of the bed.
“You didn’t,” he gasps. “You got the Lego set too?”
You laugh, and Adrian pushes past you to the massive box containing the Home Alone Lego set, picking it up and bringing just inches away from his face.
“3900 pieces!” he exclaims. “And it’s got all the little traps and everything! There’s even a spider!”
“Better than sex?” you ask, and he nods eagerly, not even looking at you, eyes still glued to the box. You don’t even take offense, you’re just glad he likes it.
“Can we do it right now? And watch the movie?” he asks, and he finally looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading, and you know you can’t say no to him.
“Take a shower first,” you sigh. “You smell like…I don’t even know. A sweaty, apocalyptic Home Depot. I’ll make some popcorn.”
Adrian puts the box down, and his grins softens just a bit.
The way he’s looking at you, like you hung the moon just for him, makes you feel like you’re going to cry. You think he can tell, because he pulls you in for a hug, even as you protest, because he’s still sweaty and gross. You give in and bury your face in his shirt anyway, closing your eyes.
“This really was the best day ever,” he says. “I love you a whole lot.”
“I love you too, baby. Merry Christmas.”