Chapter 0 - Christmas Time!

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*
 
The steel gate springs open as frail fingers pull its handle open. A heap of black smoke erupts from the furnace, filling the already somewhat hazy room with even more dark mist. The overworked smoke detector continues wailing in the background at a pitch similar to the woman jittering in a panicked mess below. 
 
“OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH!”
 
You’re laughing. There’s a potential fire hazard and you’re laughing.
 
But it’s hard not to when you see how flustered Tina is. She’s less panicked in a “the place is burning down to the ground” way and more panicked in a “I can’t believe this went wrong” way. Putting on oversized oven mitts embroidered with cute brown bears, she pulls the metal tray out and dumps the black lumps into the trash can. The kitchen skittering, reminiscent of someone trying ice skating for the first time or a novice who’s just learned how to dash in Overcooked, comically warms your heart. Although, the warm feeling might be coming from the smoke. You’re not entirely sure.
 
At the end of the debacle, Tina leans against the counter, hand on hip and slight soot on cheek. She stares at you with vulnerable eyes before committing to an exaggerated cry.
 
“Whyyyyyy! Why are we so bad at this!”
 
“Honey, it’s alright,” you say, stifling a laugh, while coming to embrace her. She sinks like a fluffed-out pillow into your chest. “We’ll keep going until we get it.”
 
You had been spending the morning baking cookies in preparation for the small Christmas party the Roomies were planning. Missing Tina dearly, they successfully guilt-tripped the two of you into hosting at the place you moved into together. The small plan made its way around the friend circle until a good amount of the people who weren’t spending the time with their families decided to join in as well, bringing feasts, festivities, and presents. With most of the checklist taken care of, Tina had the charming idea to make a little treat for everyone.
 
Your session came with little success. In your hubris as a strong chef, you misjudged how different baking and cooking would be and convinced Tina it would be more tasty (and fun) to make them from scratch rather than using a store-bought premade dough.
 
“There’s no love,” you explained to a completely on-board Tina. She absolutely loved to bake, so the persuasion wasn’t difficult. 
 
Two hours later after returning from the supermarket, some of the creative liberties the two of you decided to take weren’t looking too great. Matching aprons on, utensils and bowls set out neatly onto the table, and a preheated oven ready to gobble up any raw goods placed into its tummy, the two of you set out to work. 
 
First Batch:
 
“Looks good… set a timer for twenty and it’ll be perfect.”
 
“Okie dokie!” 
 
The two of you returned to find cookies resembling geodes, lumps of unmushed ingredients sticking out of the pastries.
 
“...”
 
“...”
 
“...you didn’t mix well, dear. It said mix well.” Tina ejected each word as though it were its own sentence. Even scornful, her tone was tantalizingly calming. 
 
“I’m sorry.” 
 
Second Batch:
 
“Honey, you set the timer right?” You used the remote to back out of the episode. Tina, snuggled up next to you on the couch under the blanket, looked back blankly.
 
“I thought you were setting the timer?”
 
Third Batch:
 
“Do you think if we doubled the temperature we’d be able to bake in half the time?” Tina asked.
 
Your mouth suspended for a moment. You couldn’t tell if she was joking or being serious. Her tone said she was, but her innocent expression told you otherwise. Regardless, the answer you needed to respond with was clear as day.
 
“Yup.”
 
And that leads you back to the present moment. Preparing the ingredients once more. Tina whisks away at her bowl with a fervor in her eyes, clearly not fazed at all at the previous failures. It’s one of her many cute attributes; her desire to keep trying with as much determination as she had in the very beginning. Trying to not be outmatched too hard, you roll up your sleeves and get to the flour bag to begin measuring out cups once again.
 
“Oh hold on, I was thinking we could do something else for this one– ack!”
 
Tina, tripping over seemingly nothing, grabs ahold of the counter to steady herself. What occurs to the bowl she was holding just moments before? Why, it spills all over your apron of course.
 
“!”
 
Tina held both of her hands over her nose in a cone, horrified. 
 
“Tina!” You fake scream, playing up how bad the situation is. “I can’t believe you’d do something like this!”
 
“No– hold on– wait–” Tina sputtered putting an arm on your shoulder to comfort you, “It was an accident, c’mon, please– I– I didn’t mean to–”
 
The slick, viscous fluid reflecting sunlight began streaming down your front apron. Most of it had found its way to the floor already, and what little there is remaining on you is comfortably blocked by your apron. It’s a small issue. Still, the cruel, wicked deed enacted on you by your devious partner shouldn’t be left unpunished. You reach a hand into an open bag of flour and spritz an ample amount of the scrumptious ash over her face.
 
* gasp *
 
All pleading from Tina to not get upset over her mistake quickly silences itself as she looks at you with an expression of shock. Her eyes widen, her pupils in disbelief, as her hands come up open palm to the sides of her head. The stillness of the shock is enough for some of the flour to fall off of her and sway to the floor. An eager smile blossoms from Tina as she opens her mouth and raises her hand.
 
“You’re getting it now!”
 
Tina's declaration reverberates through the kitchen, her voice a playful symphony that sets the tone for the ensuing antics. Her eyes sparkle with a fairy-like gleam, a clear indication that the food fight is far from over. The kitchen, a place of culinary disaster, now serves as a whimsical arena where flour clouds drift in the air, and her laughter is the sweetest ingredient.
 
The scent of the dough, rich with vanilla and sugar, mingles with the earthy, grounding aroma of flour, creating an aroma as delightful as it is comforting. The kitchen was alive with the energy of your playful combat, every surface dusted with a fine layer of flour as Tina threw ingredient after ingredient at you. Flour is the first to go flying through the air; soon after, you can hear the clattering of plastic cookie cutters– the solid pelts of ammunition coming from the burnt trial runs.
 
Tina’s a flurry of dance and spontaneity. You’re sure the image you hold of her in your head is nothing like she is. Anyone looking in would see a woman with the dexterity of a child. Tina’s poor reflexes cause her to get battered by everything, and her shrill yelps don’t do her any favors in convincing you you’re not just playing with one of your younger cousins. Your laughter melded together, a harmonious soundtrack to the whimsical scene, echoing off the walls and infusing the room with warmth.
 
As the final remnants of flour settled like a gentle snowfall, and the last of the dough slowly dripped off your apron, the kitchen fell into a comfortable stillness. The laughter that had filled the room now lingered in the air, the two of you looking at each other with a foxy disposition. 
 
“You done? Get it out of your system?”
 
Tina looks at you, and you’re aware of how difficult it is to try to read her when she’s really trying to hide away. You spend so much time deliberating over it, in fact, that you get blasted with another cloud of flour. 
 
“HACK, phft, * cough * * cough *,” you sputter as most of it makes its way into your mouth.
 
“You started it,” Tina huffs, the slight notion of a smirk pulling at her lips.
 
“I… I seem to remember someone dropping the first egg,” you reply, still clearing your throat.
 
“That was an accident.”
 
“The flour thing was an accident too.”
 
Tina looks at you with disbelief at your gall, playfully indulging your incredible bullshit. 
 
“Oh well, in that case, I’m so sorry,” Tina says sarcastically, grabbing you by the collar and pulling the two of you closer together, “What could I do to make it better?”
 
Always taking the opportunity when it’s presented, you give her a quick peck on the lips, and then smoothly move behind her for another back hug, making sure to wrap your arms around hers.
 
“How about we go again, and this time I’ll guide you so you don’t spill,” you suggest into her ear.
 
Tina audibly ponders, and for a second you think she’s purring at you.
 
“I guess I could do that.”
 
“Perfect.”
 
Let’s not think about the incredible mess the two of you made that you will have to inevitably clean up before all of the guests arrive.
 
—
 
“Oooooh, I love what you’ve done with the place,” Poki gushes as she saunters on in. Her heels come off to the side of the doorway, which you scoot over a little more to the side near the shoe rack. 
 
“Merry Christmas!” Tina squeaks as she comes out from the other end, just having finished putting her Santa hat on. She’s absolutely dazzling with her corset, gloves, and fluffy skirt. You’ve never seen an elf be so seductive before.
 
“Eeeek! Tina!” Imane squeals as she runs up to her with a gentle hug. “You look soooooooo adorable!”
 
Tina says nothing in return, simply blushing in joy. You smile with her.
 
“Am I the first to come?” 
 
“Yeah but everyone else should be coming soon.”
 
And soon they did, coming in small batches like a modified version of the Twelve Days of Christmas song. One dolled-up Imane, two of the OTV members, Jodi and John, three main dishes brought by Hyoon and Aria, four of the remaining Roomies, Sykunno, Rae, Fuslie, and Miyoung, five side dishes brought by Lily and Michael who did their own cutesy Christmas cooking date, six bottles of apple cider by Sydney and Scarra, six bottles of champagne also for those who were in the mood later, seven different games, both physical and digital, brought by Josh, and eight, nine, ten, eleven different ornaments for a Christmas tree lugged in by Brodin and an OTV background stagehand. 
 
“BRODIN??” You hear Tina shout from your living room while setting up the tablecloth. Quickly hopping over to the scene, you hear the sight before you see the sight. In fact, you smell and feel the sight before you see the tree on a tarp being lugged in by Brodin.
 
“Don’t worry, I’ve already checked your floor plan, it’ll fit.”
 
You can’t help but laugh, hands on your knees, as Tina comes next to you, watching the two of them bring in the tree with an incredulous look on her face. If the two of you are going to celebrate the OTV Christmas at your place, it makes sense for it to be up to Brodin standards. Tina’s hand rests on her chest as she tracks the tree’s journey with her eyes. What a hilariously ghastly moment.
 
Meanwhile, Tina’s been checking in the dozens of presents being given to her at the doorway. In typical upper-class fashion, it’s difficult to get a gift for everyone you know, especially as an influencer, so it would be another year of White Elephant. 
 
“Your blush looks extra nice today Tina,” Hyoon commented as she came in earlier. 
 
“Thanks!” Tina pipped up chirpily, blushing partly because of her carefully applied makeup and party because you’re standing behind her feeling her up. She doesn’t stop you from continuing through the rest of the entrances.
 
Once everyone is in, the food needs to be set up on the table, moved from their place just lazily propped on the kitchen table.
 
“Do you want me to help, dear?” 
 
“It’s alright, just sit with everyone, make yourself comfortable,”
 
“Mmm, oook,” Tina says, still unsure. You give her a little hug around the waist and a kiss, rubbing your hand on her cute, floofed-up cheeks.
 
Scarra makes an audible gagging motion with his finger at the gross display of public affection, which you smile at. Tina’s slightly flushed by all the eyes on the two of you and robotically makes her way over to the table.
 
You all have a nice meal. It’s one of those rare occurrences where the food people bring for everyone is actually enough for everyone without there being someone still famished or an exorbitant amount of leftovers still remaining. The glazed ham is neatly sliced on your cutlery, which you insisted on bringing out instead of using paper plates and plastic utensils, and the sickos that actually enjoy eggnog have it with their meal. It’s a flourishing of green and red outfits, warm lights casting downward from the ceiling, and joyous conversation.
 
As the meal progresses, the warmth of shared laughter and stories fills the room, creating an atmosphere of genuine connection and holiday cheer. The soft glow of the Christmas tree, adorned with twinkling lights and colorful ornaments, adds a magical touch to the surroundings. There’s a Bluetooth speaker in the back playing Christmas songs, both old and new. With everything going so perfectly right, the dishes shuffle around to find themselves empty, devoid of any food adornments.
 
Tina, seeing this to be the perfect time, claps her hands and gathers everyone’s attention during a still sound. 
 
“Hey! Guys! We made a little bit of dessert for everyone! I was thinking, um, we could eat them while we open presents?”
 
You’re already out of your seat to get them before you receive confirmation from the crowd, knowing Tina was delightfully too wholesome for anyone to reject. You return to find everyone seated around the tree, on sofas or chairs or on the carpeted floor, ready to play, and gently place the artisanal craftmanship of Tina and your love onto everyone’s extended plates. 
 
The game starts as you finish up depositing the cookies, pouring out milk and eggnog for all who want it as well. Upon coming back from the kitchen, placing everything back in its cupboards and sink, you find the game going full force, filled with wails and shouts and laughter. The gifts, ranging from a cube that could easily fit in your palm to a gingerbread man towering to the height of the room, are wrapped in festive patterns, checkered, striped, dotted insignias of white, red, and green. 
 
You try to sneak around the ongoings. Tiptoeing on the floor, you step over participants and trash alike to make your way to Tina. 
 
“Scooch,” you say when you reach the corner of the soda Tina’s sitting on. She listens with a disgruntled meow, getting up and letting you sit down before sitting down on your lap, a position you share all the time when watching shows in the same spot. Your arms wrap around her stomach as you look over her shoulder to watch what’s going on. 
 
“Ok Tina, get it girl,” Aria calls out from across the room, noticing your physical affection. Looking around, everyone is sitting in their own seats, even those who are in relationships. The game momentarily pauses as everyone piles on in jeers, playfully poking fun and teasing the two of you for how lovey-dovey you both are. 
 
Tina, not realizing how embarrassing it would be to take a seat on your lap– it’s her spot, she’s used to it at home– covers her face in morbid embarrassment. The tips of her ears are a bright red, almost matching the hue of her hat, and you know if you could see her face her cheeks would likely be the same shade. 
 
You’re too committed to the bit to feel any shame, simply smugly exaggerating your loving actions by hugging her tighter and by digging your face into her hair. 
 
“Baby.” 
 
You give her a little nip on her neck, asking her for a little kissy kiss. You’re messing around with her, and she knows it. You don’t think she’ll actually give you one until she turns to you for a fast peck. Her hands come up to her face one more time, as her hat floofs over her downward-looking head.
 
The room bursts into a cacophony of noise, ranging from Lily and Rae’s empathetic awwwwwws and applauses to Michael and John’s eewwwwwwws and jeers. Even the worst reactions are light-hearted in spirit, though, as you relish being in the spotlight of attention for a glorious thirty seconds before everyone brings their attention back to the game. 
 
Tina crawls out of her shell a couple of turns in and you still see some semblance of blush left on her face. She can’t help but be swept up by the company’s festivities soon enough and returns full blast.
 
“Love you honey,” you whisper into her ear.
 
She gives you a kiss on the cheek when she thinks no one’s looking (you’re sure Brodin was staring in your exact direction when Tina tried to time it) and whispers back, “Love you too.”
 
You end up winning a weighted blanket.
 
The remainder of the night is filled with a similar merry mood as you go far with the mistress of night surrounded by games, gifts, friends, and, most importantly, alcohol. 
 
—
 
The vacuum powers loudly through the apartment as you whistle and bring it back and forth through the rooms. There are times when you cross into the living room and you catch a glimpse of Tina doing her own set of cleaning.
 
“Tired hon’?” 
 
“A lil’.”
 
You hear her voice cut clearly through both curtains of water pouring from the sink’s faucet and the dust-blowing spectacle of a machine in front of you. Her tone is enough to reinvigorate you in the late night.
 
“Do you need any help in there?”
 
“Nopers!”
 
When you make it to the hallway, you can see her once more. She waddles around the tile kitchen floor, a wet rag below her feet, as she wipes it down carefully. When you reach the front door at the end of the hallway and return, wrapping the cord in hand, Tina is making her second round of waddling, this time with a dry towel to remove the slipperiness.
 
“Did you have fun?”
 
“Yeah!”
 
You take a break from your duties and rest your arms on the counter overlooking the kitchen, content to watch your girlfriend shuffle around with her arms away at her sides for balance and her tongue sticking out in focus. She’s too engrossed in her task, not noticing you at all. A sweet silence sticks to a string for a little while before Tina, sensing something wrong because of the silence, looks around and sees you watching her.
 
“W…what?” She asks breathlessly, slightly tuckered out by the physical activity. 
 
“Nothing,” you respond, “You look nice. I can’t watch Santa’s little helper do her work?”
 
“You’re gonna get something from Santa’s little helper if you don’t get back to cleaning, and I don’t think you’re gonna like it,” Tina threatened with a big ol’ goofy smile in return.
 
You put your hands up in mock defeat and make your way into the kitchen to join her. Approaching, you slowly come to a stop when you see a mistletoe hung up by a piece of yarn at the entrance, something that was certainly not there before. 
 
“What?” Tina senses the halt and looks up at you, before looking up at what you’re looking up to. Your eyebrows raise, telepathically transmitting to her, “Should we? ‘Tis the season…” to which she transmits with her eyes “I mean… we could…” 
 
“A kiss is a little plain,” you comment.
 
“It’s just the way it is,” Tina murmurs as she gets on her tiptoes to reach your lips. She captures them with ease, and you return the gesture.
 
“Santa’s helper’s acting a little naughty,” you point out, “Isn’t she worried about her presents?”
 
“What do you mean?’ Tina replies with bristling, sweet intensity, “He gave me the perfect little toy right here.”
 
Her hands roam down as she continues, “Some hardwood between two snowballs is all I need.”
 
Your jaw drops at her forwardness, as she maintains eye contact and flutters her lashes at you. 
 
“Looks like we have ourselves a little Vixen here, and I’m not talking about the reindeer,” you joke. She giggles, cringing at how dopey the two of you sound right now.
 
“Maybe the others were right to boo at us earlier,” Tina said, “I’d boo at us too.”
 
“Well the others don’t have the luxury of dating the lovely Christina Kenyon,” you refute.

Tina scoffs in a charming way, astonished at you dropping her full name and your quick-witted response. Not letting the mood seep away, you lift her up and begin carrying her in your arms. 
 
“Bedtime? I want to unwrap my present.”
 
Tina looks around at the half-cleaned apartment.
 
“Cleaning can wait for tomorro– AH!” 
 
She yelped gleefully as you ran into the bedroom with her in your arms. She gently pounded your back with her balled-up fists.
 
Dropping her onto the sheets, you help her take off her clothes. 
 
“Gee, thanks for getting the hat,” Tina wryly says aloud while undoing the string on her corset.
 
“What would you do without me?”
 
Her laugh is interrupted as you pull her socks off with unexpected intensity. She yelps as they come off onto the floor. You’re mirroring her pace, taking your shift off your head, flinging your cap onto the floor with it. Once the initial stages of undressing end, you make out something strange on Tina.
 
“Is that… wrapping paper?”
 
In the heat of the moment, you forget the proper term for the ribbon that goes around a present, the red, silky lace that doesn’t keep the paper together but looks pretty on the item. Tina had it underneath her clothes, tantalizingly covering her secretive parts. They wrap around her waist, barely blocking out her nips, and come up from under her nether regions to hide her folds. Tina, throwing the coat and gloves aside, tries to answer.
 
“I’m… your Christmas, present?” She says it awkwardly, likely due to the flush which is blooming at full force on her face.
 
“Is that a question?” You laugh incredulously, incredibly worked up by the sight.
 
Her inexperience shows and she quickly hits your chest.
 
“Ow.”
 
“Shut up and take your present.”
 
Lying on her back under you, Tina looks up directly into your eyes. Her arms are outstretched toward you. Her breaths come out steamy pants. The red silk is disheveled from the bedroom movement. You undo the tie, leaving her body bare to you. The bedsheets contort around her weight, exemplifying all of her wonderful curves. 
 
It’s the best present you’ve ever gotten.
 
You sink on top of her, making sure you’re close enough for her to feel your body heat but not falling directly so that your body weight sinks her down. Slowly, you use your hand to guide Tina’s present into her. You weren’t a rose toy, but you were going to work to be even better.
 
“ Mmmm, fuck… ” 
 
The intimacy of hearing Tina curse softly, no outspoken screams or delirious begs, warms your heart and heats your body as you continue fucking her missionary. Her hands come under your shoulders and clasp your back, pulling you closer to her. You kiss her neck, pump up, kiss her chest, pump up, nibble at her earlobe, pump up, and moan into her ear yourself, mixing the steady repeated motion of thrusting with other variable pleasures. 
 
Tina, being the needy lover she is, continues streaming a steady series of ramblings. She’s direct in bed, telling you exactly what she wants and when she wants it.
 
“ Oh… right there…mm, keep going, keep going, keep going! ”
 
The room is filled with a heavy musk and gentle whining, a contrast at this time from Tina’s usual hoarse screaming after getting railed like a rag doll. Rather than sex for the act of dopamine and stress relief, tonight’s session was filled with love. 
 
“I’m gonna cum,” Tina says, tightening up as a craze overtakes her, “ I’m gonna cum! ”
 
You push up as deep as you can inside of her, jackhammering a little bit before. You had been on the verge the entire time, but edged yourself to finish at the same time. For someone who’s unsure about what to say all the time, Tina’s very clear about this.
 
Your deep grunts intertwine with her harmonic moans as the two of you orgasm at the same time, both of your slick juices mixing together. Tina’s pushes her hips up to meet you, trying to close this infinitesimally small gap between you both, and remains stiffened like that throughout her blissful minutes-long euphoria. 
 
As the two of you come back down from your high, you push some strands of hair away from her face and give her a final kiss on the forehead.
 
“I love you.”
 
“I love you too.”
 
The two of you snuggle as snuggly can be, and with loads of cuddles and kisses under the blanket, neither wanting to go to bed just yet, you both drift off into a deep slumber, the type of slumber where you feel as though one moment you’re staring into Tina’s hopeful, loving eyes in the inky darkness and the next you’re seeing her goofy, dozing expression. 
 
As you stir, still feeling Tina in your arms, she stirs as well, and opens her eyes. A warm smile comes to her face without her even thinking about it when she sees it's you she gets to wake up next to.
 
“Want a coffee?”
 
Christmas may be over, but there are many more Christmases, many more days, and many more moments for the two of you to spend together. 