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bandomstuffsit2010-12-23 04:17 pm
stuffitmod.livejournal.com) wrote in bandomstuffsit2010-12-23 04:17 pm
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What's Wrong With A Little Cheer: Gift for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
takkatakkatakka
Title: What's Wrong With A Little Cheer
Author:boweryd
Pairing(s): Z Berg/Ryan Ross
Rating: R
Warnings: The lulziest crossdressing possible, alcoholic hot chocolate, and a minor sewing needle accident.
Word count: 2,528
Summary: Z had woken up to her phone vibrating under her pillow and Ryan asking her, like it was a totally normal thing to ask someone at 8 a.m. on Christmas day, if she knew how to make a popcorn garland.
"I don't think this is how you make popcorn garland," Ryan calls out as Z takes the last bag out of the microwave.
"Yes it is," she says, leaning over him and pouring the bag into the giant bowl of popcorn that's already sitting beside Ryan. He's managed to get two pieces on the thread so far. "Trust me, I've done it before."
"Can't we just go buy one?" Ryan asks, hissing when he pokes himself in the thumb with the needle while threading another piece. "This is going to take me all night, and then Christmas will be over and it'll be useless."
"That's why you do it before Christmas day," Z says, rolling her eyes and throwing a leftover kernel at the back of Ryan's head. He doesn't seem to notice.
"I forgot," Ryan says, a little sadly. "I got a tree, remember?" He says, turning around and staring up at Z hopefully.
"I know," she says, running her fingers through his hair and pushing it off of his forehead. It's in that weird phase between short and long enough to curl, so mostly he just looks like some kind of weird cat.
Ryan had bought a tree at some point around the 15th, and then he'd left it tied up in the corner for so long that it was more dead than not when he noticed it last night and clipped the strings off. He'd managed to get it in the stand himself, but then Z had woken up to her phone vibrating under her pillow and Ryan asking her, like it was a totally normal thing to ask someone at 8 a.m. on Christmas day, if she knew how to make a popcorn garland.
Ryan was lucky that her family was out of town and the only plans Z had involved an entire box of Stovetop Stuffing and some Lifetime movies. And also that no matter how hard she tried, she still found Ryan strangely endearing. Even when he was doing shit like losing a needle in the couch cushions and turning over four bags worth of popcorn trying to find it.
-
"Why in the hell don't you have a vacuum?" Z asks from the floor where she's scooping up popcorn.
"I don't know," Ryan shrugs. "I just figured that kind of stuff would have come with the house."
Z very, very kindly does not throw the popcorn she's already gathered up right in his face.
-
"Why did I know I was going to end up doing this?" Z sighs, spearing a piece of popcorn spitefully.
"What kind of booze do you need for eggnog?" Ryan asks from the kitchen.
"No," Z says simply, because no.
"I have Kahlua and peppermint schnapps," Ryan tries again, and dammit. He knows Z can't resist Kahlua.
-
"This is the best hot chocolate ever," Z says, happily taking her third mug from Ryan.
They ran out of the mini marshmallow hot chocolate about an hour ago, and Ryan's apparently improvised by just sticking a giant marshmallow in the cup and pouring hot chocolate over it. It's definitely not the worst idea he's ever had.
"Do you remember that time?" Ryan asks, sliding down on the sofa and resting his head in Z's lap.
"That's not very specific and I am a little bit drunk," Z says, patting him on the head and very narrowly avoiding spilling hot chocolate into his eyes.
"That time we got drunk off the coffee liqueur and you tried to make me wear a saran wrap dress," Ryan says, like there's no reason she shouldn't have immediately known what he was talking about.
"Yes," Z says, laughing, because that had been a good time.
"Do you think we could make a dress out of wrapping paper?" Ryan asks, looking up at her hopefully.
"Do you actually have wrapping paper?" Z asks curiously.
"Oh," he says sadly. "No, I don't think so."
"I'm sorry," Z says, petting his hair.
"Oh hey," Ryan says, sitting up so fast that Z very nearly spills hot chocolate all over him again. "Would newspaper work?"
"...possibly," Z says, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have tape?"
-
"Well," Ryan says looking down sadly at the newspaper that Z's just ducktaped onto him. "That's going to hurt when we take it off."
"Oh, oh, oh," Z says, excitedly, holding up the comics page. "Come here so I can make a bra."
Ryan seems to think about it for a second, then shrugs and drops down to sit in front of her, wincing when his newspaper skirt rips in half.
"It's okay," Z says, making a strap out of a Cathy strip. "We still have the Classifieds."
-
"Oww," Ryan says, rubbing sadly at his chest. It turns out she really had accidentally taped the bodice to Ryan. She'd feel worse about it if Ryan hadn't insisted on a v-neck in the first place.
"You just, like, waxed my chest hair."
"You don't even have chest hair," Z says, rolling her eyes. "Do you have any aloe?"
"I had a few," Ryan says sadly.
"Aloe?" Z asks again.
"At least three."
"If you don't answer me right now I'm not making Christmas waffles," Z threatens.
"In my sock drawer," Ryan says, just staring sadly down at his chest.
"Sure," Z says, heading down the hall. "That makes perfect sense."
-
"Now do my back," Ryan says, flopping over face down on the floor.
"There wasn't any tape on your back," Z says. "You're going to get aloe all over your floor."
"It's okay, it's aloe. It's, like, natural. Organic. It'll be good for the wood."
Z sighs, but she really does feel a little bad about the tape thing, so she settles herself down on Ryan's thighs and grabs the aloe.
-
Z honestly can't remember how an aloe back rub turned into sex, but it's hardly the weirdest way she's found herself mostly naked on Ryan's couch.
"Why do you have a condom in an empty vase on top of your TV?" Z asks, because she's honestly curious.
"I think I put it there after that time we didn't have sex because you were scared of my sheets."
"You hadn't changed them in two months," Z reminds him, because Ryan tends to forget things. Like facts.
"There's a condom in the knife drawer in the kitchen, too," Ryan says as he crawls back over her on the couch.
"That doesn't seem like the best idea," Z says, but then Ryan tosses the condom on her chest and slides down her body, kissing his way up her thigh.
"That's not a bad one, though," Z says, reaching down and threading her fingers through his hair. Ryan can get a little distracted, sometimes, and Z has found it's best to keep him on task.
"Hey," Ryan says suddenly, pulling back. "Hey, can we have chocolate chip Christmas waffles?"
"Sure," Z says, pushing his head back down between her legs.
"Awesome," Ryan says, mostly into her skin, and Z starts to laugh and then can't stop, giggling and breathless as Ryan shrugs his shoulders beneath her thighs and shifts her legs further apart.
-
"Oh my god," Ryan says, his voice strained.
"I know, right?" Z says, trying to pull him closer.
"No, no, I mean oh my god," Ryan says again, his hands shaking on her legs as he pulls back.
Z looks down and gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth when she starts to laugh. The lost needle from earlier is sticking out the side of Ryan's thigh, thread still attached.
"This isn't funny," Ryan says, his voice going kind of hilariously high. "That could have been my dick," he says, anguished, still looking down helplessly.
"Oh, oh honey," Z says, biting back more laughter and shifting forward until she can get up on her knees. "Kiss me," she says, and Ryan looks confused but he does it anyway, kissing her soft and just slow enough that she manages to yank the needle out of his leg before he even notices she's touched it.
"Oww," he says into her mouth.
"That didn't hurt," Z says, pulling away and reaching behind herself to drop the needle into the bowl of leftover popcorn.
"Did so," Ryan says, stupidly close to pouting, and Z sighs and straddles his lap, grinning when Ryan gasps as she grabs his cock and sinks down.
"Couldn't have hurt that bad," she says, pointedly rolling her hips.
"It was nothing," Ryan says breathlessly. "Please keep doing that thing with your hips."
-
"We should definitely make that a Christmas tradition," Ryan says sleepily, nuzzling his nose against Z's neck.
"I don't think fucking is the kind of thing you can pass down through the generations, Ross," Z tells him, idly petting at the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
"I don't see why not," Ryan says. "Everyone likes to fuck."
"Fair enough. Maybe if there were a more festive aspect to the kind of fucking," Z says, and she can tell she's still a little bit buzzed from the way she's putting actual thought into this.
"Like wearing Santa hats?" Ryan says curiously. "Oh, oh, or maybe like, we could invent a new sex position. Hanging the stocking? Decorating the tree. No, no, wait, I've got it," he says excitedly, sitting up and grinning at her. "We should be looking at Christmas songs. That way there's a built-in soundtrack. Like, watch, Jingle bell cock," he says, excitedly. "See?"
"We're about to invent The Nutcracker," Z says, tossing his legs off of her lap and quickly rising from the sofa, slipping Ryan's shirt on and heading for the kitchen. "I can't believe I even have sex with you," she grumbles over her shoulder in his general direction.
-
"How did you have marshmallows and chocolate chips in your cabinets but no actual food?" Z asks as she stirs the waffle batter. Ryan's fridge had contained half of a pizza, spray on butter, a bottle of ketchup, and pudding cups. Z sometimes wonders how he hasn't just starved to death yet.
"I wanted to make s'mores last week, I think," Ryan says, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "But I couldn't find chocolate bars and forgot to get graham crackers."
Z grins and pours the bag of chocolate chips into the bowl, coughing pointedly when Ryan refuses to let go of her waist. "Do you or do you not want post-coital Christmas waffles?"
"I'm cold," Ryan says, rubbing his nose against her neck.
"Go put on clothes," Z says, shuffling them both over to the waffle iron when Ryan refuses to let go.
"But you took my clothes," Ryan says.
"Just your shirt," Z says. "You have more than one shirt."
"And my socks," Ryan says sadly.
"You have more than one pair of socks too," Z says, reaching behind herself and smacking Ryan in the hip with the spatula.
"Hey," Ryan yelps.
"Go put on clothes," she says. "I refuse to eat waffles with you while you're naked."
"We've done worse naked," Ryan mumbles into her neck.
"I know," Z says, pouring the whole bowl onto Ryan's massive multi-waffle iron. Z's pretty sure it cost more than her TV. "I'm trying to stop that. It's going to be my New Year's resolution."
"I thought that was to stop drinking so much vodka."
"Oh, right," Z says. "Shit. Well you still can't eat waffles naked. It's Christmas. Have some goddamn manners."
-
"Hah," Ryan says triumphantly, sliding into the kitchen in striped socks, plaid boxers, and an impressively hideous Christmas sweater. "I'm not naked."
"I'm starting to think naked might have been the better option," Z says. Ryan sticks his tongue out at her and Z holds the spatula out threateningly. "No," she says, shuddering at the memory of that time Ryan had tried to stick his tongue in her ear while he was high.
"What?" Ryan asks, grinning as he starts towards her. "Are you seriously still holding that against me?"
"So gross," Z shudders, walking backwards into the living room and around the sofa, still holding the spatula out.
"Oh come on," Ryan says, "it was one time."
"One gross, gross time," Z says, and then yelps as Ryan tosses himself over the sofa and manages to knock them both to the floor. "Oww, motherfucker," Z says, slapping Ryan's ass with the spatula.
"Oops," Ryan says, not bothering to move from where Z had cushioned his fall and probably given herself a concussion.
"I hate you," she tells him, doing her very best not to smile when Ryan kisses up the side of her neck. "I swear to god," she says, "if your tongue comes anywhere near my ear, I'm going to punch you in the face and eat all the waffles in front of you."
"You wouldn't," Ryan says, pulling back and looking down at her with mock outrage that quickly turns into genuine fear. "You're kind of evil," he says, dropping a kiss to Z's nose and rolling off of her to his feet, reaching down a hand to pull her up.
"It's part of my charm," Z says as she collides with Ryan's chest. He drops a kiss to the top of her head, and then freezes, saying, "Um."
"What?" she asks, pulling back and following his wide eyes to the kitchen, which is rapidly filling up with smoke. "Oh shit," she says, rushing into the kitchen and unplugging the waffle iron, trying to wave away some of the smoke that's billowing up from it.
"Well fuck," Ryan says sadly as his smoke alarm starts to blare. "I was really looking forward to those waffles."
-
"All things considered," Ryan says later, handing Z a fresh mug of hot chocolate and hopping back under the covers they've spread across the couch, "it could be worse."
"It's Christmas and we're eating Chinese food, drinking boozy hot chocolate, and watching whatever the fuck this is," Z says, waving a hand at the TV.
"It's Babes in Toyland," Ryan says defensively. "It's a classic."
"It's like a furry dropped acid and then wrote a movie," Z says, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, an awesome movie," Ryan says, holding out the last egg roll to Z. "Plus," he says happily as she snatches it away, "I did get that popcorn garland."
Z eats her egg roll and looks over at Ryan's sad, half-dead tree decorated with popcorn garland and nothing else, and she throws her legs across his lap, snuggling in.
"You did indeed," she tells him, stretching up to kiss his jaw, and Ryan smiles down at her as Keanu Reeves talks to a giant mouse on the TV.
"Merry Christmas," he says, resting his cheek against her head.
"Merry Christmas," Z answers him, twining their fingers together under the blanket. "Sorry about the waffles."
"It's okay," Ryan says around a yawn. "You can make it up to me next year."
Author:
bowerydPairing(s): Z Berg/Ryan Ross
Rating: R
Warnings: The lulziest crossdressing possible, alcoholic hot chocolate, and a minor sewing needle accident.
Word count: 2,528
Summary: Z had woken up to her phone vibrating under her pillow and Ryan asking her, like it was a totally normal thing to ask someone at 8 a.m. on Christmas day, if she knew how to make a popcorn garland.
"I don't think this is how you make popcorn garland," Ryan calls out as Z takes the last bag out of the microwave.
"Yes it is," she says, leaning over him and pouring the bag into the giant bowl of popcorn that's already sitting beside Ryan. He's managed to get two pieces on the thread so far. "Trust me, I've done it before."
"Can't we just go buy one?" Ryan asks, hissing when he pokes himself in the thumb with the needle while threading another piece. "This is going to take me all night, and then Christmas will be over and it'll be useless."
"That's why you do it before Christmas day," Z says, rolling her eyes and throwing a leftover kernel at the back of Ryan's head. He doesn't seem to notice.
"I forgot," Ryan says, a little sadly. "I got a tree, remember?" He says, turning around and staring up at Z hopefully.
"I know," she says, running her fingers through his hair and pushing it off of his forehead. It's in that weird phase between short and long enough to curl, so mostly he just looks like some kind of weird cat.
Ryan had bought a tree at some point around the 15th, and then he'd left it tied up in the corner for so long that it was more dead than not when he noticed it last night and clipped the strings off. He'd managed to get it in the stand himself, but then Z had woken up to her phone vibrating under her pillow and Ryan asking her, like it was a totally normal thing to ask someone at 8 a.m. on Christmas day, if she knew how to make a popcorn garland.
Ryan was lucky that her family was out of town and the only plans Z had involved an entire box of Stovetop Stuffing and some Lifetime movies. And also that no matter how hard she tried, she still found Ryan strangely endearing. Even when he was doing shit like losing a needle in the couch cushions and turning over four bags worth of popcorn trying to find it.
-
"Why in the hell don't you have a vacuum?" Z asks from the floor where she's scooping up popcorn.
"I don't know," Ryan shrugs. "I just figured that kind of stuff would have come with the house."
Z very, very kindly does not throw the popcorn she's already gathered up right in his face.
-
"Why did I know I was going to end up doing this?" Z sighs, spearing a piece of popcorn spitefully.
"What kind of booze do you need for eggnog?" Ryan asks from the kitchen.
"No," Z says simply, because no.
"I have Kahlua and peppermint schnapps," Ryan tries again, and dammit. He knows Z can't resist Kahlua.
-
"This is the best hot chocolate ever," Z says, happily taking her third mug from Ryan.
They ran out of the mini marshmallow hot chocolate about an hour ago, and Ryan's apparently improvised by just sticking a giant marshmallow in the cup and pouring hot chocolate over it. It's definitely not the worst idea he's ever had.
"Do you remember that time?" Ryan asks, sliding down on the sofa and resting his head in Z's lap.
"That's not very specific and I am a little bit drunk," Z says, patting him on the head and very narrowly avoiding spilling hot chocolate into his eyes.
"That time we got drunk off the coffee liqueur and you tried to make me wear a saran wrap dress," Ryan says, like there's no reason she shouldn't have immediately known what he was talking about.
"Yes," Z says, laughing, because that had been a good time.
"Do you think we could make a dress out of wrapping paper?" Ryan asks, looking up at her hopefully.
"Do you actually have wrapping paper?" Z asks curiously.
"Oh," he says sadly. "No, I don't think so."
"I'm sorry," Z says, petting his hair.
"Oh hey," Ryan says, sitting up so fast that Z very nearly spills hot chocolate all over him again. "Would newspaper work?"
"...possibly," Z says, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have tape?"
-
"Well," Ryan says looking down sadly at the newspaper that Z's just ducktaped onto him. "That's going to hurt when we take it off."
"Oh, oh, oh," Z says, excitedly, holding up the comics page. "Come here so I can make a bra."
Ryan seems to think about it for a second, then shrugs and drops down to sit in front of her, wincing when his newspaper skirt rips in half.
"It's okay," Z says, making a strap out of a Cathy strip. "We still have the Classifieds."
-
"Oww," Ryan says, rubbing sadly at his chest. It turns out she really had accidentally taped the bodice to Ryan. She'd feel worse about it if Ryan hadn't insisted on a v-neck in the first place.
"You just, like, waxed my chest hair."
"You don't even have chest hair," Z says, rolling her eyes. "Do you have any aloe?"
"I had a few," Ryan says sadly.
"Aloe?" Z asks again.
"At least three."
"If you don't answer me right now I'm not making Christmas waffles," Z threatens.
"In my sock drawer," Ryan says, just staring sadly down at his chest.
"Sure," Z says, heading down the hall. "That makes perfect sense."
-
"Now do my back," Ryan says, flopping over face down on the floor.
"There wasn't any tape on your back," Z says. "You're going to get aloe all over your floor."
"It's okay, it's aloe. It's, like, natural. Organic. It'll be good for the wood."
Z sighs, but she really does feel a little bad about the tape thing, so she settles herself down on Ryan's thighs and grabs the aloe.
-
Z honestly can't remember how an aloe back rub turned into sex, but it's hardly the weirdest way she's found herself mostly naked on Ryan's couch.
"Why do you have a condom in an empty vase on top of your TV?" Z asks, because she's honestly curious.
"I think I put it there after that time we didn't have sex because you were scared of my sheets."
"You hadn't changed them in two months," Z reminds him, because Ryan tends to forget things. Like facts.
"There's a condom in the knife drawer in the kitchen, too," Ryan says as he crawls back over her on the couch.
"That doesn't seem like the best idea," Z says, but then Ryan tosses the condom on her chest and slides down her body, kissing his way up her thigh.
"That's not a bad one, though," Z says, reaching down and threading her fingers through his hair. Ryan can get a little distracted, sometimes, and Z has found it's best to keep him on task.
"Hey," Ryan says suddenly, pulling back. "Hey, can we have chocolate chip Christmas waffles?"
"Sure," Z says, pushing his head back down between her legs.
"Awesome," Ryan says, mostly into her skin, and Z starts to laugh and then can't stop, giggling and breathless as Ryan shrugs his shoulders beneath her thighs and shifts her legs further apart.
-
"Oh my god," Ryan says, his voice strained.
"I know, right?" Z says, trying to pull him closer.
"No, no, I mean oh my god," Ryan says again, his hands shaking on her legs as he pulls back.
Z looks down and gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth when she starts to laugh. The lost needle from earlier is sticking out the side of Ryan's thigh, thread still attached.
"This isn't funny," Ryan says, his voice going kind of hilariously high. "That could have been my dick," he says, anguished, still looking down helplessly.
"Oh, oh honey," Z says, biting back more laughter and shifting forward until she can get up on her knees. "Kiss me," she says, and Ryan looks confused but he does it anyway, kissing her soft and just slow enough that she manages to yank the needle out of his leg before he even notices she's touched it.
"Oww," he says into her mouth.
"That didn't hurt," Z says, pulling away and reaching behind herself to drop the needle into the bowl of leftover popcorn.
"Did so," Ryan says, stupidly close to pouting, and Z sighs and straddles his lap, grinning when Ryan gasps as she grabs his cock and sinks down.
"Couldn't have hurt that bad," she says, pointedly rolling her hips.
"It was nothing," Ryan says breathlessly. "Please keep doing that thing with your hips."
-
"We should definitely make that a Christmas tradition," Ryan says sleepily, nuzzling his nose against Z's neck.
"I don't think fucking is the kind of thing you can pass down through the generations, Ross," Z tells him, idly petting at the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
"I don't see why not," Ryan says. "Everyone likes to fuck."
"Fair enough. Maybe if there were a more festive aspect to the kind of fucking," Z says, and she can tell she's still a little bit buzzed from the way she's putting actual thought into this.
"Like wearing Santa hats?" Ryan says curiously. "Oh, oh, or maybe like, we could invent a new sex position. Hanging the stocking? Decorating the tree. No, no, wait, I've got it," he says excitedly, sitting up and grinning at her. "We should be looking at Christmas songs. That way there's a built-in soundtrack. Like, watch, Jingle bell cock," he says, excitedly. "See?"
"We're about to invent The Nutcracker," Z says, tossing his legs off of her lap and quickly rising from the sofa, slipping Ryan's shirt on and heading for the kitchen. "I can't believe I even have sex with you," she grumbles over her shoulder in his general direction.
-
"How did you have marshmallows and chocolate chips in your cabinets but no actual food?" Z asks as she stirs the waffle batter. Ryan's fridge had contained half of a pizza, spray on butter, a bottle of ketchup, and pudding cups. Z sometimes wonders how he hasn't just starved to death yet.
"I wanted to make s'mores last week, I think," Ryan says, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "But I couldn't find chocolate bars and forgot to get graham crackers."
Z grins and pours the bag of chocolate chips into the bowl, coughing pointedly when Ryan refuses to let go of her waist. "Do you or do you not want post-coital Christmas waffles?"
"I'm cold," Ryan says, rubbing his nose against her neck.
"Go put on clothes," Z says, shuffling them both over to the waffle iron when Ryan refuses to let go.
"But you took my clothes," Ryan says.
"Just your shirt," Z says. "You have more than one shirt."
"And my socks," Ryan says sadly.
"You have more than one pair of socks too," Z says, reaching behind herself and smacking Ryan in the hip with the spatula.
"Hey," Ryan yelps.
"Go put on clothes," she says. "I refuse to eat waffles with you while you're naked."
"We've done worse naked," Ryan mumbles into her neck.
"I know," Z says, pouring the whole bowl onto Ryan's massive multi-waffle iron. Z's pretty sure it cost more than her TV. "I'm trying to stop that. It's going to be my New Year's resolution."
"I thought that was to stop drinking so much vodka."
"Oh, right," Z says. "Shit. Well you still can't eat waffles naked. It's Christmas. Have some goddamn manners."
-
"Hah," Ryan says triumphantly, sliding into the kitchen in striped socks, plaid boxers, and an impressively hideous Christmas sweater. "I'm not naked."
"I'm starting to think naked might have been the better option," Z says. Ryan sticks his tongue out at her and Z holds the spatula out threateningly. "No," she says, shuddering at the memory of that time Ryan had tried to stick his tongue in her ear while he was high.
"What?" Ryan asks, grinning as he starts towards her. "Are you seriously still holding that against me?"
"So gross," Z shudders, walking backwards into the living room and around the sofa, still holding the spatula out.
"Oh come on," Ryan says, "it was one time."
"One gross, gross time," Z says, and then yelps as Ryan tosses himself over the sofa and manages to knock them both to the floor. "Oww, motherfucker," Z says, slapping Ryan's ass with the spatula.
"Oops," Ryan says, not bothering to move from where Z had cushioned his fall and probably given herself a concussion.
"I hate you," she tells him, doing her very best not to smile when Ryan kisses up the side of her neck. "I swear to god," she says, "if your tongue comes anywhere near my ear, I'm going to punch you in the face and eat all the waffles in front of you."
"You wouldn't," Ryan says, pulling back and looking down at her with mock outrage that quickly turns into genuine fear. "You're kind of evil," he says, dropping a kiss to Z's nose and rolling off of her to his feet, reaching down a hand to pull her up.
"It's part of my charm," Z says as she collides with Ryan's chest. He drops a kiss to the top of her head, and then freezes, saying, "Um."
"What?" she asks, pulling back and following his wide eyes to the kitchen, which is rapidly filling up with smoke. "Oh shit," she says, rushing into the kitchen and unplugging the waffle iron, trying to wave away some of the smoke that's billowing up from it.
"Well fuck," Ryan says sadly as his smoke alarm starts to blare. "I was really looking forward to those waffles."
-
"All things considered," Ryan says later, handing Z a fresh mug of hot chocolate and hopping back under the covers they've spread across the couch, "it could be worse."
"It's Christmas and we're eating Chinese food, drinking boozy hot chocolate, and watching whatever the fuck this is," Z says, waving a hand at the TV.
"It's Babes in Toyland," Ryan says defensively. "It's a classic."
"It's like a furry dropped acid and then wrote a movie," Z says, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, an awesome movie," Ryan says, holding out the last egg roll to Z. "Plus," he says happily as she snatches it away, "I did get that popcorn garland."
Z eats her egg roll and looks over at Ryan's sad, half-dead tree decorated with popcorn garland and nothing else, and she throws her legs across his lap, snuggling in.
"You did indeed," she tells him, stretching up to kiss his jaw, and Ryan smiles down at her as Keanu Reeves talks to a giant mouse on the TV.
"Merry Christmas," he says, resting his cheek against her head.
"Merry Christmas," Z answers him, twining their fingers together under the blanket. "Sorry about the waffles."
"It's okay," Ryan says around a yawn. "You can make it up to me next year."