Sleigh Ride
Day 3 of the 12 Days of Christmas Fic Challenge.
For alt_reayoon, who has pretty much single-handedly made me adore this pairing. Merry Christmas!
-
Nico wakes alone, hand flailing out until he comes across his glasses on the bedside table, taking in the sight of Paul’s childhood bedroom, still not much changed from then. It’s even still got a single bed, relegating Paul to a mattress on the floor but they’d squished together, elbows in soft places and knees crammed so closely together that Nico had lost feeling in his feet. He has a feeling that Paul might have fallen out half-way through the night, judging by the slept-in nature of the bed on the floor. There’s a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table too, moved far enough away that Nico couldn’t have knocked it over hunting for his glasses. Nico sighs happily, smiles while sniffing at the heavenly vapours and leans back against the pillows to wait for his boyfriend to return from wherever he might be.
-
Paul finds him ten minutes later huddled over the mug, glasses steamed up. “Morning.” Nico grunts. Evidently, the caffeine is yet to take effect.
“It’s snowed!” Paul grins, tugging a curtain open to show the white of the surrounding landscape. “Come on. We’re going sledging.”
“Uh?” Nico grunts.
“Just drink the coffee.” Paul laughs. “I’ll get you breakfast. Toast OK?”
“Uh-huh.” Nico nods, nose buried in the mug.
-
Coffee works wonders in dragging Nico into the land of the living. Paul does the rest, shuffles him into a steaming hot shower, dresses him and wraps him up warm. Nico looks bloody adorable wrapped up in Paul’s spare gloves and scarf and hat. “What are we doing?” He asks, voice muffled by the scarf Paul has tugged up over his nose, obediently following Paul outside while Paul hunts out his old childhood sledge.
“Going sledging!” Paul grins, successfully digging out his sledge from inside the garage. “Come on.” He tugs Nico after him through the snow, mittened hands linked together, until they reach the hill Paul always remembers sledging down as a young child whenever he drives past it. Nico raises his eyebrows at Paul when they reach the bottom, pristine snow still untouched by tiny footprints and sledge trails, but trudges up the hill after Paul, laughs as Paul flops down into the snow and waves his arms and legs, gets Nico to haul him upwards and admires his snow angel. Nico copies him, makes their angels touch wings, carefully steps around them to draw a love heart between their two impressions. Paul tugs Nico’s scarf down enough to kiss him, cold lips against warm ones, breath curling as fog in the air between them. The sun’s only just peering over the horizon, shy as Nico is sometimes. “Thank you for coming.” Paul whispers into the delicate atmosphere between them, cuddles Nico close to him. Nico laughs gently, snuggles close as they stare out at Paul’s hometown.
-
“You said we were sledging.” Nico accuses some time later, shivering slightly because they’ve been stood still for so long. Paul tips his head back and laughs, rescues his sledge and lines it up.
“After you.” Paul offers, waits for Nico to sit down and then sits in front of him, waits for Nico to wrap arms around his waist, and nudges them off, laughing as Nico shrieks. They don’t actually go that fast, and topple off into a giggling pile at the bottom of the hill, but it’s like flying. And then crashing, but at least the crashing’s fun. Nico’s giggling is addictive, sprawled on top of Paul, warm weight contrasting sharply with the cold morning, snow smearing over his glasses. Nico’s absolutely delighted, drags Paul up to the top and makes them repeat the whole thing all morning long. Paul’s just happy to have his boyfriend with him for Christmas, sneaks in cuddles every time they race down the hill, every time they topple over at the end of the hill and he falls a little bit more in love with Nico’s flushed cheeks, red nose and shining eyes, the joyous sound of his laughter, the way cold lips brush over his whenever Nico feels like it. Nico seems to especially like kissing Paul when they’re in a heap at the bottom of the hill, tugging at Paul’s scarf to get him closer, laying back to look angelic surrounded by the white of the snow, murmurs in German that Paul can half-translate as words of affection, love, adoration, words he returns between kisses, uncaring as they get steadily soggier. It doesn’t matter though, because they know there’s hot chocolate waiting back at Paul’s house, warm clothes and a sofa to snuggle on. Until they can be bothered to leave the hill however, there’s a sledge and each other.
For alt_reayoon, who has pretty much single-handedly made me adore this pairing. Merry Christmas!
-
Nico wakes alone, hand flailing out until he comes across his glasses on the bedside table, taking in the sight of Paul’s childhood bedroom, still not much changed from then. It’s even still got a single bed, relegating Paul to a mattress on the floor but they’d squished together, elbows in soft places and knees crammed so closely together that Nico had lost feeling in his feet. He has a feeling that Paul might have fallen out half-way through the night, judging by the slept-in nature of the bed on the floor. There’s a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table too, moved far enough away that Nico couldn’t have knocked it over hunting for his glasses. Nico sighs happily, smiles while sniffing at the heavenly vapours and leans back against the pillows to wait for his boyfriend to return from wherever he might be.
-
Paul finds him ten minutes later huddled over the mug, glasses steamed up. “Morning.” Nico grunts. Evidently, the caffeine is yet to take effect.
“It’s snowed!” Paul grins, tugging a curtain open to show the white of the surrounding landscape. “Come on. We’re going sledging.”
“Uh?” Nico grunts.
“Just drink the coffee.” Paul laughs. “I’ll get you breakfast. Toast OK?”
“Uh-huh.” Nico nods, nose buried in the mug.
-
Coffee works wonders in dragging Nico into the land of the living. Paul does the rest, shuffles him into a steaming hot shower, dresses him and wraps him up warm. Nico looks bloody adorable wrapped up in Paul’s spare gloves and scarf and hat. “What are we doing?” He asks, voice muffled by the scarf Paul has tugged up over his nose, obediently following Paul outside while Paul hunts out his old childhood sledge.
“Going sledging!” Paul grins, successfully digging out his sledge from inside the garage. “Come on.” He tugs Nico after him through the snow, mittened hands linked together, until they reach the hill Paul always remembers sledging down as a young child whenever he drives past it. Nico raises his eyebrows at Paul when they reach the bottom, pristine snow still untouched by tiny footprints and sledge trails, but trudges up the hill after Paul, laughs as Paul flops down into the snow and waves his arms and legs, gets Nico to haul him upwards and admires his snow angel. Nico copies him, makes their angels touch wings, carefully steps around them to draw a love heart between their two impressions. Paul tugs Nico’s scarf down enough to kiss him, cold lips against warm ones, breath curling as fog in the air between them. The sun’s only just peering over the horizon, shy as Nico is sometimes. “Thank you for coming.” Paul whispers into the delicate atmosphere between them, cuddles Nico close to him. Nico laughs gently, snuggles close as they stare out at Paul’s hometown.
-
“You said we were sledging.” Nico accuses some time later, shivering slightly because they’ve been stood still for so long. Paul tips his head back and laughs, rescues his sledge and lines it up.
“After you.” Paul offers, waits for Nico to sit down and then sits in front of him, waits for Nico to wrap arms around his waist, and nudges them off, laughing as Nico shrieks. They don’t actually go that fast, and topple off into a giggling pile at the bottom of the hill, but it’s like flying. And then crashing, but at least the crashing’s fun. Nico’s giggling is addictive, sprawled on top of Paul, warm weight contrasting sharply with the cold morning, snow smearing over his glasses. Nico’s absolutely delighted, drags Paul up to the top and makes them repeat the whole thing all morning long. Paul’s just happy to have his boyfriend with him for Christmas, sneaks in cuddles every time they race down the hill, every time they topple over at the end of the hill and he falls a little bit more in love with Nico’s flushed cheeks, red nose and shining eyes, the joyous sound of his laughter, the way cold lips brush over his whenever Nico feels like it. Nico seems to especially like kissing Paul when they’re in a heap at the bottom of the hill, tugging at Paul’s scarf to get him closer, laying back to look angelic surrounded by the white of the snow, murmurs in German that Paul can half-translate as words of affection, love, adoration, words he returns between kisses, uncaring as they get steadily soggier. It doesn’t matter though, because they know there’s hot chocolate waiting back at Paul’s house, warm clothes and a sofa to snuggle on. Until they can be bothered to leave the hill however, there’s a sledge and each other.