Work Text:
There were three things that kept you from falling asleep: the Christmas lights reflecting outside your car window, the lively tune of Last Christmas looping in your head, and the fact that you were sitting here in your car, waiting. Waiting outside someone’s house.
You looked at your phone once more to read the last texts you had with Lyney.
You
> literally where are you im fr about to drive off
> HURRY YOUR SLOW ASS UP
nuisance
> WAIT im omw!! ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
> just wait there for me ill be out in a min
Eight minutes ago. A sigh slipped out of you as you leaned your head back against the car seat and felt the cold leather pressing between your shoulders. You told yourself that you didn’t mind waiting; you’d gotten good at it. Still, your fingers tapped against the steering wheel in time with the song playing in your car’s stereo, restless despite yourself.
The song continued to play out.
Once bitten and twice shy…
“I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye,” you murmured along. The words settled just a little too close to home.
The neighbourhood was quiet, in that particular way it only ever got this late. Houses lit up in scattered bursts of colour and your gaze trailed over them. Some displays were extravagant, and it was clear that the owners of those houses worked their fingers to the bone to achieve such a gorgeous setup. Others were quite simple, with just a string of lights along the fence and a glowing star at the window. Even so, it still all seemed so magical, and you found yourself smiling the most at those.
Your breath fogged against the window as you shifted in your seat, tugging your coat a little tightly around yourself. It wasn’t that cold, not really, but the waiting was really getting to you now. You glanced at Lyney’s house once again, half expecting the front door to open—it didn’t.
You just sighed and huffed a quiet laugh to yourself. Of course, what else were you expecting? Lyney was many things, but punctual wasn’t usually one of them. He always arrived when he meant to, on his own time, as if time would just bend to his will. He did say he was a little busy tonight, so perhaps that was the case, right?
Just when you thought you would be waiting for another ten minutes, there was a knock on the outside of your window. You were startled, literally almost jumping out of your seat. Lyney’s face was right on the window with a smug grin that was far too pleased with the reaction he’s pulled from you. He was bundled up against the cold with a loose scarf around his neck, and his violet eyes shone as they trailed over your face.
“Were you planning on waiting all night?” he asked, tapping the window for emphasis. “I admire the dedication, but I do feel a little sorry for you.”
You rolled down the window and almost flinched from the cold air rushing in. “You sent that text almost ten minutes ago.”
“Ah.” Lyney placed his hands on his hips and huffed a laugh. “So you were keeping track. Honestly didn’t think you had it in you!”
That simply earned an eyeroll from you. “I’m surprised I didn’t just drive off.”
He leaned on his elbows against the edge of the door and just smiled softly. “Sorry,” he said, quieter now. “You still up for it?”
“Yeah,” you said. “You get shotgun.”
Lyney walked around the car and onto the street to step into the front of the passenger seat. The door shut with a soft click as he got comfortable settling into the seat. He tugged at his scarf and loosened it, letting it drape around his neck as he glanced around your car like it was the first time he’d been in it, even though it very much wasn’t. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back at the little ‘wow’ reaction he was giving.
“This is comfortable.” He leaned back and let out a little sigh. “I see you’ve upgraded from last time.”
“You mean last week?” you replied dryly, pulling the car back into drive.
Lyney simply hummed. It was silent for a few moments before he asked, “Can I have the aux?”
“No.”
Lyney just gave you a look. “No? Just like that?”
“You heard me,” you said nonchalantly, keeping your eyes on the road as you turned onto the next street. “Driver’s rules.”
“You’re actually so mean! I could totally set the vibe here. I could be spreading more holiday cheer than you, looping these sad and overused tunes over and over.”
“You are not playing ‘Deck My Balls’ in my car, Lyney. This is my playlist.”
“Come on,” he said lightly, already reaching for the console, “your playlist is suffering from a severe lack of whimsy.”
You swatted his hand without looking which elicited a snicker from him. “You touch that dial and I’m turning the car around.”
A warm laugh bubbled from Lyney’s throat and then the car was quiet again. Though it felt like it had gotten smaller, as if you two were closer. You swore he was closer at least, because his knee was angled toward yours as he relaxed into the seat. Close enough that you were acutely aware of him without looking. You couldn’t explain it, but you whelved these feelings before they could surface back up and make things awkward.
The houses around you grew brighter as you drove, lights spilling across the street with reds and golds and soft whites. There was also a little bit of green too. Lyney craned his neck to look out the window, and his eyes lit with genuine interest.
“Oh,” he said, pointing. “Okay, that one is doing too much.”
You glanced where he was pointing, slowing the car down a little so you didn’t risk crashing. “Too much?”
Okay, maybe he was right because the lights almost blinded you. Gold lights were strewn everywhere across the house, and by everywhere, you meant literally everywhere. The owners managed to wrap the lights around the roof as well, and they certainly didn’t miss a single spot, save for the entrance, where they left a small gap to avoid tripping over the lights.
“There’s a fine line between festive and blinding, and they’ve crossed it,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“You basically thrive on attention, you cannot be talking.” Your eyes were back on the road and you were trying to find a spot to park the car.
“While I do admire their commitment,” Lyney began, raising a finger, “I’ll have you know, I thrive on appreciation. Thank you very much.”
A scoff slipped past your lips. “Sure you do.”
You pulled the car along the curb a few streets down, not far enough so the glow could still be espied from a distance. Lights spilled across lawns and rooftops with every colour imaginable, blinking and shimmering. The whole street was basically dressed up for the season. “We’re here,” you announced as you finished parking.
Lyney straightened in his seat. “Oh! Oh, this is one of those streets.”
“Mhm.” You turned off the engine. “They go insane every year, it’s almost ridiculous. That house we just saw is probably not the end of it.”
He was already unbuckling his seatbelt, practically vibrating with anticipation, excitement written all over his face. “I see, they really are committed! Excess truly is an art form.”
You snorted, grabbing your coat as you stepped out into the cold. While the air did bite at your skin a little sharper, it was all worth it because you were rewarded with the quiet hum of the atmosphere. Only a few people were wandering along the sidewalks and you could faintly discern their low voices.
It was peaceful.
Lyney fell into step beside you without thinking, close enough for your arms to brush when you walked. Neither of you commented on it.
To be honest, neither of you commented on the current status of your relationship either. There were a lot of things you two never spoke out loud.
And perhaps… that was the problem.
It wasn’t that nothing had ever happened between you two. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Things kept happening, though quietly. They happened in ways that didn’t cross this invisible line that you both have subconsciously drawn and pretended existed.
It was moments like these—late night drives, inside jokes no one else but you two understood, changing the wallpapers of your phones to pictures of each other, staying up late to talk on the phone, locking eyes in a crowded room, giving and receiving gifts even when there wasn’t a special occasion, visiting his family’s house for dinner, hell even talking about your futures together.
Even with moments like this, where Lyney walked just close enough that you were aware of the warmth at your side but never close enough to force the question. You told yourself that it was easier that way.
Lyney stopped in front of one of the houses, hands in his pockets as he tilted his head back to take in the lights. Reds and golds reflected in his eyes as he smiled to himself.
“Hm,” he pondered casually, as if he hadn’t stolen all of your attention, “if we’re judging purely based on commitment, this one wins.”
You elbowed his side, laughing as he yelped in pain. “Look who’s talking! Saying that like you’re not impressed!”
“I never said I wasn’t!” He rubbed at his side, frowning. “I just respect the dedication, y’know?”
You just hummed in response, looking up at the lights streaked across the house and the inflatable Santa that was dangling on the side of the roof like its life depended on it. For a second, you two stood there in silence, with your shoulders almost touching. Almost.
You wondered, not for the first time, what it would take to close the gap.
The man beside you shifted, like he was acutely aware of it too. You swore you felt his hand lift to reach yours, but then you could hear the slide of his hand dropping into his pocket instead.
Fucking coward.
“Come on,” he said lightly, already stepping forward. “I reckon there’s worse up ahead.”
You looked down at your shoes as you followed him to match his pace.
A few houses down, the glow from the displays grew slightly dimmer. Warm lights draped neatly along the fences, paper stars glowing softly in windows. Someone had even put the effort into placing lanterns on their doorstep. It was beautiful in a quieter way, less overwhelming than the rest. Still, the lights alone weren’t enough to drown out the thoughts in your head.
Lyney had always been like this. Unpredictable, charming, impossible to pin down, you knew this very well. And somewhere along the way, it seemed that his unpredictability had woven its way into whatever it is the two of you had. It was thrilling at first, but then it became something you had to carefully tread through.
You told yourself you didn’t care, that this was fine. There was absolutely no rush.
But the truth sat heavier than that, because you realised your feelings a while ago: you were head over heels for him. You never said it out loud, obviously, but they lingered. They lingered in the pauses between conversations, in the way your gaze always found him first, in the waiting you’ve supposedly gotten used to doing.
Meanwhile, Lyney just seemed content to dance around it. He was close but not the type of close you could name or label.
It was as if your feelings were in a race, and yours were ahead of his.
You matched his pace without thinking as you stared hard at your shoes, stepping on the concrete sidewalk. Thinking. Pondering. You didn’t know the difference between the two, but whatever it was, you were doing it hard.
Just how long were you willing to wait for his feelings to catch up?
Lyney’s steps slowed. “I like these better,” he said quietly, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Mm?” you intoned, blinking as you looked up.
“These houses.” He gestured around at the simple displays. “They’re more, let’s see, calming? It’s much easier to appreciate every individual design as they can all stand out.”
You stopped walking without realising it. Lyney took another step before noticing, turning back to look at you. “What?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly. “I just… thought you’d prefer the flashy ones. Because you’re so, like, flamboyant or something.”
He huffed a laugh. “You know what they say,” he added, an easy smile in place. “Sometimes, less is more.”
Huh.
You looked at him again for a few seconds before averting your gaze, feeling the heat on your cheeks. Less is more. He had obviously meant the lights, but you weren’t sure if he had ever realised how often that philosophy seemed to apply to the two of you.
Either way, that thought that he tossed out stung uncomfortably in your chest. If less really was more, then what did that say about the careful distance you two had been maintaining? What did that say about the unsaid things and the almosts that had to be pushed down before they could cross the already-blurred lines?
You wondered if he knew how much you were holding back just to keep it that way.
“Huh,” you said finally, your gaze still away from him. “Didn’t take you for the minimalist type.”
Lyney shrugged, keeping his hands tucked in his pockets. “Surprises keep things interesting.”
And so does honesty. You had to bite back that response that wanted to tumble out.
As you walked, a small park came into view. Lit by fairy lights streaked between the trees and across the archway, you espied families lingering near a folding table set up off towards the side, steam curling up from the thermoses they were holding. Someone had put music on a portable speaker in an effort to make it a tiny bit festive.
“Hey.” Lyney pointed ahead. “What’s going on there?”
“Dunno, looks like free hot chocolate,” you said with a shrug.
His eyebrows raised. “Free?!” he repeated, hoping that he’d heard you right.
“Don’t get too excited.” You steered towards the park’s entrance. “It’s probably lukewarm at best.”
“Don’t care!” he sang cheerfully with a bright grin stretching across his face. “Hot chocolate is hot chocolate!”
He followed you towards the park, and upon entering, seeing it up close made the scene clearer. The folding table was even more inviting up close, with the carefully stacked paper cups next to a large metal pot filled with a rich brown liquid. A ladle rested inside the pot, all ready to be picked up and to serve.
Lyney lingered a step behind you as you approached the table shaded by the trees, taking the whole scene of the park in. “Hey, they even decorated the trees!”
“Uh huh.” You grabbed two cups and passed one to him.
A volunteer stood behind the table, bundled up in a puffer jacket, and seemingly rubbing their hands together for warmth. The moment they spotted you, they smiled brightly. “Two for the lovely couple?”
You and Lyney froze for a moment. “...Uh. Sure,” you answered. You didn’t correct them. Not because it was easier, but because for a second, it felt good to be seen that way. Like the shape you and Lyney made together was obvious to everyone but the two of you.
The volunteer took your cups, poured the drinks, and slid them back towards you, still wearing that shiny smile. Lyney happily took his cup, blowing the surface of the drink dramatically to lessen the nonexistent steam wafting from it. Warmth bloomed in your chest as you gazed at him with your own cup still in your hands. The heat seeped into your fingers, and it grounded you for a moment as you watched his lips meet the rim of the cup, taking a long and slow sip.
Both of you found a dining bench nearby, tucked just beneath the lights, and the two of you sat facing the table side by side, knees nearly touching. You drank your hot chocolate in peace, staring between the trees and zoning out to the sound of the lively chatter of the people around you.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
Taking delicate sips from your cup, you sighed and relished the rich and creamy warmth. Initially, you had to restrain yourself from downing your hot chocolate in one go because you genuinely could not be assed to get up to get seconds. Setting down your cup, you lay your head on the table, turning just enough to steal glances at your ‘date’ beside you, if you could even call him that.
You watched entranced, observing how the steam curled around Lyney’s features every time he lifted his cup. The steam almost made him look unreal.
You smiled to yourself, though bitterly. You always did this. Even with the smallest crumbs like these, you often found yourself eating them up, because they were all that he could give you. You thought that you could savour these, and they could be enough to fill you.
But you knew better. You knew what you wanted, and god what he gave you had never been enough. You were tired of pretending less could ever feel like more.
People have often speculated that something was going on between the two of you, when you knew very well your relationship was nothing serious. For months, you tried so hard to tell yourself that maybe this whole casual thing was meaningful. That maybe, just maybe, if you waited long enough, he would wake up and realise what he had. You thought he was an idiot, that he just needed time to catch up.
But it had been over a year now. A year of late nights and half promises. A year of this mutual arrangement you both wordlessly made. A year of not being official and not being nothing either.
A year of this and nothing had a name. For the longest time, you’ve wondered how much longer you were supposed to hang around before it stopped being romantic and it became humiliating. Would calling him your boyfriend make the waiting feel lighter, or would it only make the silence louder?
“Are you done admiring me?” Lyney asked, tilting his head so you could see him clearly.
You blinked slowly. “Mm? What?”
“You’ve been staring at me for the past minute now,” he said lightly, threading his fingers through locks of your hair. “You got something to tell me, [Name]?”
You just looked at him with half-lidded eyes. Nothing of bite could come out, and you couldn’t retaliate. The words were already sitting on your tongue before you could stop them.
“Do you ever think about us?”
…And it slipped out. At this point, you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You needed an answer straight up.
The hand on your head stiffened slightly at the question for a second, but it was almost unnoticeable because Lyney managed to compose himself very quickly with a soft laugh. His hand slithered away from your hair (which you normally would chase, if only this position weren’t so comfortable), reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “That’s kind of a big question to drop out of nowhere, isn’t it?”
You exhaled, more tired than nervous now. “Mm. But surprises keep things interesting, right?”
He sighed, looking a little dejected. “Well,” he began, averting his gaze towards his cup now. “I do. I do think about you.”
You knitted your brows together. “So? I do too.”
Lyney hesitated, fingers tightening around his cup before he set it down on the table. The hollow sound of the plastic against the wood echoed. “I think about you,” he repeated slowly. “About us. Just maybe not in the way you’re probably asking.”
There it was. Not a yes. Not a no. He always managed to make everything seem ‘in-between’ and as much as you tolerated his antics, they were starting to irk you.
The music drifted through the air, playing a tune you didn’t bother recognising. You straightened a little, lifting your head off the table. “Then how?” you asked.
Lyney exhaled through his nose, looking up at the fairy lights above the two of you as if that would offer him an answer. “I like what we have. I like you. I don’t want to risk messing this up by… forcing it into something that’s not ready.”
What the hell was he saying? You’ve been here the whole time when you could’ve left a long time ago. Did he realise that you were already risking it by staying?
You let out a breath that fogged faintly into the cold air, dragging your gloved hand down your face. “So, essentially, I’m forcing this?” The tone came out accusatory, but you couldn’t correct it at this rate because you were finally pulling answers out of this man.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, making eye contact with you now. “I just— I just don’t want to ruin what we have.”
You took a sip from your cup and looked down at it, breaking eye contact. “You say that like it’s not already ruining me.”
There was a pause. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said.
You still didn’t look at him. “You didn’t know, or you didn’t want to?”
Silence settled over both of you like a blanket. The speaker in the background played a soft holiday tune that felt painfully out of place with the way your chest ached. Cold licked at your face and crept under your clothes, spreading across your skin, causing you to shiver.
Lyney seemed to notice the way you were trembling. “Cold?”
“I’m fine,” you bit back, though unintentionally.
“Why didn’t you bring a scarf?” He was already tugging his free.
“I said I’m fine.”
He ignored you, leaning closer before you could protest. The scarf draped over your shoulders and he looped it around your neck with practised ease. His fingers brushed against your jaw as he secured the scarf.
The warmth was immediate. It smelled just like him, reminiscent of him in your sheets before he disappeared the next morning. The times you tried to hold onto the memory of his lips ghosting over yours every time it happened.
You swallowed down your feelings before they could get the better of you. “See,” you murmured, unintentionally curling your fingers around his in the fabric. “This is what I mean.”
He furrowed his brows. “What?”
“You do things like this.” The hold your fingers had on his tightened. “You hold my hand. You lend me your scarf. You invite me to your house for dinner, Lyney. You do anything!” The feelings were forming a big lump in your throat the more you tried to shove them down. You shut your eyes as your voice trembled. “Anything, and then you tell me you don’t want to make whatever this is into something. Is it out of pity?”
The words tumbled out one by one before you could stop them, each one more biting than the last. You let the silence stretch out after, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. You paused for a second, processing the last sentence. Perhaps it was out of pity.
“If you don’t feel anything,” you started, but shit your voice cracked. The whole situation felt so suffocating that you had to look away from his face to blink back the tears that were threatening to form. Hold yourself together, damn it! “If you’re leading me on,” you continued, “just tell me. Tell me straight to my face.”
You waited for him to pull away or to do his mental gymnastics thing or even change topics like he always did. However, Lyney’s hands didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled slightly where you were holding them, unsure. Violet eyes searched yours as you gazed into his—those same pools that you found yourself drowning in over and over. “If I didn’t feel anything, I wouldn’t be here.”
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes and scoff at that. “I mean, yeah,” you mumbled. “You’ve always been here. You’re just not here here.”
Another pause ensued, and when you knew Lyney wouldn’t add on, you continued. “I just need to know that I’m not wasting my time. I don’t want to wait around only to be someone you just move on from.”
There wasn’t an immediate response, not like you expected one anyway. He looked at your joined hands, thumb brushing once over your knuckles in a slow, absent motion, as if grounding himself there.
“I don’t think I could move on from you,” was what slipped out of his lips right after.
Snow had started falling without either of you noticing. Slow, lazy flakes drifted down through the fairy lights strung between the trees, catching in Lyney’s hair and melting against your lashes. In any other moment, you would have laughed at the cheesiness and cliché of it all, but the timing of the situation made it reminiscent of those breakup scenes in the movies.
You sagged your shoulders, your bottom lip sticking out to form a pout. “That’s not exactly reassuring, y’know.”
Lyney blinked as if he hadn’t processed the words he said aloud. “I know,” he admitted. His fingers pulled away from your scarf and you internally wept at the loss. “I’m not the best at articulating my words the, uhm,”—he coughed—“right way.”
“That would be an understatement.”
A corner of his mouth twitched at the retort. He shifted closer to you, not touching you, but just about enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him and his vanilla scent. The pesky cologne that had you in a chokehold for months. “I don’t think what we have is nothing.” He said these words slowly and carefully. He drew his eyebrows together in thought. “I don’t think what we have is casual either. I just didn’t want to name it, because I’m kind of a coward, y’know? I’m scared shitless. I’m scared that if I put a name to it, then I’ll be the one to ruin it.”
You let out a tired huff, and you just couldn’t hold back the sarcastic retort. “Well, personally, I believe that you have made the right decision! Things have been going fairly well—that is, if you ignore the psychological toll it has taken on my mental health, and the number of times I’ve cried whenever you weren’t around. It’s been a real blast.”
He winced. “Yeah, I’ve probably been ruining it by not naming it, have I?”
“Uh huh.”
Silence settled, but it didn’t feel as suffocating this time.
“So like. Uhm.” You swallowed. How many times were you going to swallow down your feelings tonight? “What am I to you?”
Lyney seemed deep in thought for a moment. “You’re the person I look for first,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You matter so much more to me than you think. While I may joke or deflect, I never think of you as temporary.” He glanced away, but you could see the faintest hint of tinted pink on his cheeks. “You’re someone I can truly see a future with.”
“So…” You didn’t know why, but hearing those words formed tears in your eyes. Before you knew it, there was a fat tear rolling down your cheek. Lyney was about to say something in concern when you suddenly punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?!”
“Screw you! I hate you!” You burst out crying now, but your words lacked bite as you were giggling through your tears. Your hands found your face as you doubled over in fits of laughter. “Stupid! I cried thinking you didn’t think of me as someone important, but you did! You were just a pussy!”
“Hey I’m sorr—ow! [Name]!”
“What the fuck, man? I hate you so much!” Lyney tried to confide in you with a hug, but you shoved him away. “Don’t touch me! I don’t need comforting, geez! Let me just—” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, before exhaling through your mouth.
Snow continued to fall around you, and you could feel some land on your face. After a few moments, you opened your eyes to see Lyney still staring at you carefully. “You good now?”
“Yeah.” You wiped your nose with the back of your gloved hand, sniffling a little.
He sighed in relief. “I don’t want this to just be a temporary thing anymore. I want something more with you.”
Your chest ached in a way that wasn’t painful, unlike the past year with him. “Is this a confession?”
He smiled, though a little nervous. “I think it might be.”
Before you could respond, a soft gasp came from Lyney as something brushed the top of his head. He raised his head, furrowing his brows. “…Huh?”
You followed his gaze, and your eyes landed on a mistletoe. Somehow, impossibly, a small sprig hung from the fairy lights just above the bench.
“No way,” you said flatly. “You cannot tell me that just spawned there.”
“I swear I didn’t plan that!”
“I didn’t even accuse you of anything!”
“Well,” he said, eyes flicking between you and the mistletoe. “I guess fate’s a little on the nose tonight.”
“Mm.”
“So, uh.” Lyney took your hand slowly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Traditions?”
You met his eyes. There was but utmost sincerity in those pools of his. Hesitation clouded your mind for half a second, enough for the weight of everything to press in. It took another two seconds before you found yourself sliding your hands into his hair and yanking him towards you to kiss him.
While you have kissed at least a million times before, this one felt genuine, more warm, and the ripple you felt in your chest felt terrifyingly right. His lips were warm despite the cold, and you felt his free hand snake around your waist to kiss back.
The both of you were doing this in a public space but who gave a shit? You wanted to savour this earnest moment before it could all slip away. It just felt so right.
The moment didn’t last long when you both pulled away, and he rested his head on your shoulder afterwards, earning a stifled chuckle from you.
“‘M tired,” he mumbled. “Can I crash at your place tonight?”
Your hands found their way through his ash blond locks, and you smiled. “Of course, as long as I don’t wake up alone.”