🎀 Dec. Fluff (G) 🎀

Word count : 1813

“Enjoy your break. And don't think for a second I'll forget this assignment is due as soon as you get back.” Professor Deerin says, slapping a stack of papers onto the podium for emphasis. “You twoᅳ” he points between G and youᅳ “no more late submissions. My patience for that and your bickering is maxed out.” 

G scoffs beside you, nodding at the professor as they rise. “Ready?” 

“Apparently not, if you listen to him.” You grumble, heading toward the exit as G grabs your coat from the back of your chair. “That assignment was late because he didn't show up for thirty minutes. Hell, everyone's assignment was late that day.” 

“True,” the professor interjects, grinning as you pass. “But I single you two out because of this.” He gestures vaguely between you and G who is now holding your coat up for you to slide into.

G frowns. “What?” 

“The googly-eyed looks. Other students date, but they don't make it this obvious.” 

You freeze, heat rising to your face. It wasn't that obvious. Was it? Sure, G sometimes brushed their hand against yours under the desk, and maybe you both tuned out during the specifics of Berlo's SMCR model. Occasionally you get lost in one another’s gaze or gentle whispers. But wasn't that normal? 

G avoids the professor's gaze, their cheeks faintly flushed. You, on the other hand, stare daggers at him. How had he figured you out so easily? 

The professor waves you off. “Anyway, happy holidaysᅳand I meant it, no late assignments.” 

“Yes, sir,” you and G chorus, waiting until he's out of earshot before G leans in close. 

There's a bite to the air as you make your way outside, and if you somehow forgot that winter has arrived the snow blanketing the ground is your gentle reminder. The two of you inch closer together, G’s hand reaching for yours effortlessly, as if their fingers intertwining with yours were the most natural thing in the world.

“Looks like we need to have some more... one-on-one time,” they murmur.

“Oh? Is that necessary?”

They smile, small and fleeting, but it sets your heart racing. “Not necessary. Preferable.” 

“Preferable, huh?” You glance at them, your brow arched in curiosity. “Interesting choice of words.” 

“Well, I'd say it's appropriate,” G replies smoothly, though their slight blush betrays the effort to sound casual. 

“For curiosity's sake,” you press, a teasing lilt in your voice, “what exactly makes it preferable?” 

G exhales a soft laugh, brushing their hand through their hair as they steal a glance at you. “Do I need to spell it out?” 

Tapping a finger against your chin, you narrow your eyes at them as your grin widens. “I think you might.” 

They stop walking momentarily, their expression shifting as if carefully considering their words. Finally, they clear their throat and say, almost too softly, “Because we're dating.” 

The word lingers in the air, delicate yet full of weight. You pause, letting it sink in as you study their faceᅳflushed cheeks, and slightly nervous eyes. So, unlike the cool persona, they like to have. They're waiting, gauging your reaction. 

You avert your gaze, just long enough to build the courage to say the next words. “Dating… yeah I’d say that’s the right word." 

G's shoulders relax, their lips curving into a small, relieved smile. “Would you agree it's accurate?” 

As you step closer you trail your fingers along the back of G's hand. Their breath catches in their throat, dark eyes drinking in your proximity. "It's perfect." 

The walk resumes, the familiar path winding between buildings and under the sprawling branches of the old oak tree. It feels lighter somehow, the tension replaced with a quiet understanding. 

As you near Collins Hall, where G and Chris share a dorm, G slows their steps. “Should we...” they start, nodding toward the building. 

You tilt your head. “Head up?” 

G chuckles softly, their hand finding yours again. “You know, we could just... talk. Nothing more. Just spend more time together. Preferably without deadlines hanging over us.” 

You smirk, tugging them gently toward the dorm's entrance. “Talking, huh?” Now when had the two of you just talked without your lips finding one another’s?

They nod with a soft tug on your hand, leading you toward the doors. But just as they reach for the handle, their foot slips. A patch of ice sends them sprawling into a pile of snow near the entrance. 

The sight is almost too much. Snowflakes dust their dark black hair, softening their usual sharp gaze. They glare up at you, cheeks puffed out and shoulders slumped like a wet cat. It's adorableᅳand, you must admit, it’s attractive in the most ridiculous way. 

“Are… pfft… are you okay?” you ask, trying and failing not to laugh. 

They narrow their eyes at you, long lashes heavy with snow, and point an accusing finger in your direction. “Don't you dare tell Cam about this?” 

You hold up your hands in mock offense. “I'm hurt that you think I would.” 

G scoffs, extending a hand for you to help them up. But the moment your hands touch, their smirk deepens. Before you can react, they yank you down into the snow beside them. 

“H-Hey-“ 

The cold chill that cuts through you is heightened by the handful of snow that soon greets your face. 

Wiping it away you're greeted with G. Smiling from ear to ear, their gaze warm with affection that momentarily causes your chest to tighten. 

You need a picture of that smile. It's always fleeting, from when their head is buried in books and they're studying harder than anyone you know. When they hang up from a call with their parents, each one leaves a little bit of them chipped away as they argue for what they want. 

It's hard to be mad at them when they're like this. When they look at you as if you hold the answers to unasked questions, a look that tells you they're all in. That knowledge scared you once, knowing how close the two of you had become and how deeply your feelings turned from dislike to... more. So much more than you could have imagined when you first met. 

Your thoughts are quickly interrupted when their cooled finger runs across the tip of your nose, wiping off some of the snow that still clings to you. 

“Forgive me,” G murmurs suddenly, their voice softer now. 

You blink, confused not noticing how much closer their face is now. “Hm? What f-“ 

Their lips interrupt your words, trembling as they meet yours. It’s tentative at first, like a question waiting for an answer, before they lean in with more certainty, pouring everything they’ve held back into the kiss.

It always takes them a moment, as if still getting used to this new normal. But once they remember that you’ve kissed, dozens of times by now. That’s when they find that confidence. Remembering what they want, who they want.

It’s warm, soft, and gentle in contrast to the chill of the snow pressing against your back. It’s everything—messy, unexpected, and perfect.

Your breath catches as G pulls back, the ends of their hair brushing against your cheeks. The air feels warmer somehow, a spark chasing away the cold.

From this close, it’s so easy to notice the beauty marks on their face, accentuating their otherwise clear complexion.

“Well,” you manage, your voice breathless. “If you wanted me to forgive you for giving me hypothermia, that’s a good start.”

G smiles again, and how lucky you feel to witness it. Their fingers brush a stray snowflake from your cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day.”

The anticipation for the next kiss is short-lived. This time, you’re ready, sinking into it and savoring the way their lips slide against yours. The faint taste of green tea still lingers on their tongue.

The sound that slips from their throat causes you to smirk, your hands tightening on their arms as their face heats in embarrassment. You easily forget where you are—near the dorm entrance, surrounded by snow. You’ll probably regret it later, but for now, it’s perfect.

“Are you okay?”

They nod after a moment, sighing into their palms before running a hand over their face. “Yeah. Are you? You’re probably freezing—you’re the one pressed into the snow. We should get you warmed up.”

There it is, that mother-henning G tends to do. They press a hand along the back of your jacket, judging how soaked it is, and shiver at the answer.

“Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“Kissed me?”

“Wh—no. Believe me, I’d never regret that. I should have brought you inside first, that is all.”

“Well, good thing you did. Might have frozen to death if you didn’t.”

G laughs, standing and dusting themselves off. They reach for your hand, pulling you up swiftly and brushing you off. “Let’s go get you warm.”

“And how exactly are we going to do that?”

“Blankets, a nice warm drink. Change of clothes?”

“But I didn’t bring anything to wear.”

“You never do. I’m sure you have more of my clothes than your own at this point.” G laughs as you nudge them on the shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

G doesn’t answer, instead leading you upstairs into their familiar four-walled room. After taking your coat, they usher you to the bed. Blankets are quickly piled around you as the radiator hums to life and heat the room.

G turns to their dresser, pulling out a familiar blue sweater.

The sight of it brings warmth to your chest, a comforting smile spreading across your face as you remember the day they first wore it. The day you kissed for the first time. It’s one they’ve allowed you to wear over and over again.

“This is your favorite one, right?”

“Hm?”

“Of my sweaters to wear. This is the one you tend to go for.”

You nod, taking it from them and hugging the sweater close to your chest, your fingers trail over the embroidered dog on the front of it.  Its familiar scent fills your nostrils—the distinct smell of G’s laundry detergent, the same one their grandmother used. Comforting, they had said. That same comfort you feel now, the warmth settling within your chest as you lay back into the blankets with G beside you.

The two of you change, you into their sweater and G into a red sweater you had left there.

It’s hard not to feel content as you lay next to them. The radiator hums softly blending with the rhythm of your breathing. It’s quiet, just the two of you absorbed in each other’s presence. This holiday break was going to be a good one, assignments be damned.