A Pawnee Christmas Carol 5/5
Title: A Pawnee Christmas Carol 5/5
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Epilogue:
If he were Ebenezeer Scrooge (or even Scrooge McDuck) he'd be spending the day with the Cratchit's, after procuring the largest Christmas goose in the butcher shop window. But, at four-thirty in the morning on Christmas day, his options were a little slim--Ben stopped at a convenience store and bought Leslie a metal keyring shaped liked the state of Indiana. And a can of whipped cream.
The drive to Pawnee is only a couple of hours, so Ben ends up sitting in her driveway by six-thirty. It's still dark, but he's pretty sure she's up--there's a light on in the living room. But, the more he thinks about this with a clear head, and without the intrusion of Chris, and the Christmas ghosts, the more stupid it seems.
He hasn't even talked to Leslie in two months and now here he is, showing up on her doorstep just because he had a seriously fucked-up dream (it must have been a dream, right?), with Chris, Jean-Ralphio, Sewage Joe, Ann, and then Orin--who was surprisingly eloquent and sensible, all trying to show him that Leslie Knope is his Christmas spirit and that they are supposed to be together.
God. She probably hates him.
As he considers his options, Ben decides that he really has nothing to lose here--he may as well try. He's pretty miserable in Indianapolis. And...he's definitely in love with Leslie, he has been probably for longer than he feels comfortable admitting, even to himself.
Ben knocks softly on her door a few times and just as he's about to turn around, head to his car, and slink quietly back out of town, there she is, standing right in front of him.
Leslie is wearing those red flannel pajamas. The ones that she had on in the 2014 Christmas Eve that Orin showed him. And suddenly, it's so clear--so absolutely, crystal clear. All he wants for Christmas, all he wants any day of the year, is Leslie, and to live in this ridiculous, southern Indiana town full of weirdos, a rampant and dangerous raccoon population, and beautiful asthma-causing sunsets.
This is what he's been wandering around everywhere, looking for all these years--her.
"Ben?"
The words flow out of him in a rush. "I miss you like crazy. I think about you all the time. I want to be with you. This is how I feel. How do you feel?" he says, slowly getting up the courage to finally look her in the eyes. When he does, he also notices the mistletoe hanging above Leslie's doorway.
Her eyes are wide but then she's in his arms, kissing him deeply, absolutely taking his breath away.
When they make it inside, he pulls away long enough to tell her, "I know this could mess up your campaign and I don't want to do that. So...I can wait. We should wait. I'll move back to Pawnee but then after you win the election, we can be together."
She's not saying anything, just staring at him.
"Leslie?"
"You left, Ben," it comes out softly, like she's trying not to cry.
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. I thought I was being selfless but I was being an idiot. I don't even like white furniture."
"What?"
"Never mind. It's not important. I just...I just want you. You are all that I want."
"You left and now you want to wait? Well, maybe I don't want to wait until the election is over. If we do this, we say screw it and we do this thing for real, and we do it now," she insists.
"What about your campaign? How do you imagine we do this?"
"I don't know," Leslie admits. "You're not my boss anymore, but..."
"It'll still look bad," he finishes her sentence. "It could turn into a scandal. It could hurt your chance of winning. We'd have to tell everyone when we started dating--"
"Yes," she agrees. "We would. We'll figure it out. But we're not putting this on hold, Ben. It's too important." And then she's kissing him again, her hands all warm against his chilled face. It makes his heart hurt--just remembering how much he had missed her. And now? The feel of her pressing against him, the feel of her body pressed against his again is the best Christmas present he's ever received.
Ben pulls back suddenly, remembering. "It's Christmas! Merry Christmas," he tells her with a grin, almost laughing with the relief of it all, as she clings onto the material of his jacket.
"Yeah, yeah," she's smiling and nodding, her eyes threatening to spill over with tears. "Merry Christmas," she returns quickly, before moving in for more warm kisses.
"Oh! I bought you a present. It's in my car," he tells her in a rush. "I can go--"
"Ben. I swear to god, if you don't stop talking and make out with me on my face right now, I'm going to hurt you."
"Sorry, sorry," he says, smiling, as he tugs her hips into his, feeling the soft red flannel beneath his fingertips, and slides his hands over her soft curves. "You're right. We can talk about your Christmas present later."
***
Want more? Here is a smutty addendum! Yay!
Ben’s hands are cold as they grip around Leslie’s waist, pulling her close, even through the cuddly warmth of her new red flannel pajamas-a Christmas gift to herself this year (in the spirit of Tom and Donna’s annual celebration, she decided to treat herself a few months ago).
When they stumble past her small, twinkling, table-top Christmas tree and end up on the couch, Leslie straddling Ben’s lap, she’s surprised but still completely content when their kisses turn more into hugs. Soon she has her face buried in between his shoulder and neck, breathing in that unique Ben-smell that she’s thought about so often over the last few months.
His hands now warm, he’s starting to rub his palms up and down her back, first over her pajamas and then underneath, against her bare skin.
God it feels good.
“I missed you so much,” she tells him, face still snuggled near his neck. She kisses the skin there, just above the collar of his plaid shirt. Pauses to wipe her watery eyes against his plaid-covered shoulder.
“I missed you too, Leslie,” he tells her back, easily and without any hesitation. It’s almost too much, the raw emotion in his voice.
“I’m sorry.”
Ben leads her back, so he can look her in the eyes. “For what?”
She hardly knows where to start. For letting him go? For not realizing how much she loved him before they broke up?
It seems better to start small.
“For driving you to that deserted gas station. And then for saying that the romantic part of our relationship was over. That was…a huge lie.” She was trying to do the right thing and give him up…which was stupid. Just as stupid as Ben trying to give her up way back when this first started-when he originally broke up with her via a campaign button so she could pursue her dream. Incredibly sweet but so dumb.
“Good,” Ben comments. “Or else this would be getting really awkward.”
Leslie smiles, pushes her hips into his and yep, it would be getting awkward-she’s pretty sure that is not his car keys or his phone in his pocket.
Hundreds of times she’s played this out in her head-scenario after scenario where they reunite and…quickly end up in a naked heap. In a park. In an Indianapolis restaurant. In her car. And she’s pretty sure that’s where this is headed, but this right now is so good. This is better than good. This is Ben in her house on Christmas morning, all cuddly and warm, although completely exhausted and beyond-vulnerable looking, but also hers again.
He really does look like he hardly got any sleep last night and she’s still not quite sure how this even happened. Leslie’s just incredibly grateful that it did.
“What made you come back to…Pawnee?”
Ben studies her face for a moment. “I spent all last night, and well, this morning, thinking about my future. And my past too. And Leslie, the best part of it was you. The best part has always been you. I didn’t want to give that up without at least trying, without telling you how I felt. And Christmas seemed like a good time to try.”
She nods. “I’ve wanted to drive to your new place so many times, I even got in my car last-”
“Wait. How did you know where I lived?”
“Oh,” she shifts in his lap gently, but his hands stay securely around her hips, keeping her mostly in place. “Well…uh, Chris…”
Ben makes a face. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“He didn’t…technically,” Leslie starts. “I may have stole his phone when he wasn’t looking and got your new contact info that way.”
He cuts her off with a kiss. “That seems…reasonable.”
“Okay, good. And when you get it in the mail, if you haven’t already, you should disregard the invitation to join the Sci-Fi, Accounting, and Model Train Club of Indianapolis from their president Harrison Westminster Thunderclap the Third. And attend their annual dinner on January 8th.”
“I…what?”
“That was me. I made that up. I was going to show up at the restaurant and be all, whaaat? Ben, what are you doing here? Oh, well, maybe we should have dinner together and…”
“Okay.” He’s looking at her tiredly. Happy, but tired. And maybe a little confused?
“Oh, and-” She starts.
“Leslie. I don’t care what other inventive…surprises you had planned for me in Indy. So you can probably stop telling me,” Ben remarks, but he’s smiling so she knows he’s not actually mad or anything. Now it’s her turn to agree. She nods quickly. Kisses him instead, grinds down against where he’s growing even harder.
“I definitely missed this,” she says quietly when they briefly pull apart. She missed it all-missed having Ben as her boyfriend, the snuggling, the laughing, the watching history documentaries and then making out.
“Oh yeah?”
Leslie nods as Ben starts unbuttoning her pajama top. He spreads the material open and just takes in the sight of her breasts for a second or two. Then he starts to palm them with his hands, brushing his thumbs lightly across her nipples in a way that makes her shiver and release a small groan. Ben leans in and kisses her skin, just to the side of her left nipple.
“I missed this spot right here,” he sucks gently at the flesh. “And also this spot,” he kisses between her breasts. “And here,” he adds, before licking and then pulling a nipple into his mouth, tonguing the skin and teasing it gently with his front teeth.
“Ben.”
Her hands move from his shoulders, to down his sides, while his leave her hips and search lower, one sliding down under her pajama pants, past damp curls and against her sensitive skin. He uses his fingers to spread and hold her open, before brushing a fingertip lightly against her clit.
God, he was always so good at zeroing in right there.
“I think this is one of the spots I missed the most. I really missed making you all wet. And then making you come.”
Ben’s fingers slide in and out of her, circle her clit, making her squirm around in his lap and moan. The way he’s looking at her, all heavy-lidded and turned on from her gasps and moans…she comes faster than she would have thought possible.
Afterwards, he lazily runs his hands over her thighs, brushing her skin with moisture. Ben has to grab onto her hips to steady her as she slides her pajama pants all the way down and off one leg and then down the other. Leslie tosses the red flannel on the couch next to them.
She’s still wearing her Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer socks, but what the hell? It is Christmas.
But here’s a real question-why is he still fully dressed? She gives him a smile as she unbuttons and unzips his pants, tugs the material away and gently pushes his boxer-briefs down. When Leslie wraps her hand around him and runs her thumb over the tip of his cock, she says, “I really missed your dick.”
Ben laughs, kind of an unexpected half-snort mixed with a full-on guffaw at her words.
“Well, now I know what I should have gotten you for a Christmas present instead of a keychain…or even a Christmas goose,” he tells her, which kind of makes no sense (a goose?), and then Ben starts singing the chorus to Dick in a Box, before he dissolves into laughter.
Leslie widens her eyes and giggles, all while slowly running her hand over him.
Silly Ben usually only comes out when…he hasn’t slept at all. Like that one time back in May when she kept him up all night discussing the General Authorities Act of 1970 and then complaining about how Ann thought Leslie couldn’t pull off a tulip skirt. Then they came up with that game of strip Risk around three AM. And he had started talking in different accents as he moved his game pieces around and took off his clothes.
As if to confirm her suspicion, Ben groans softly and lays his head against the back of her couch with a, “Fuck. I’m so tired,” all while his hands continue to glide over her hips, then one moves down to play softly with her folds again.
Leslie stops stroking him. “Babe? We can get you to bed. Are you too sleepy for-”
“No,” he answers quickly. “No. No. No.” And then he lets out a long moan as she grasps him firmly at the base and sinks down on her present.
“Oh god Leslie. You feel so amazing. I’m never too tired for this.”
She moves slowly, because really there’s no hurry and also, it has been more than a few months. She lets him stretch her out, relishes the way he fills her up completely. Ben’s here and he’s not going away again.
He alternates between closing his eyes and moaning, to looking up at her and watching her breasts bounce, framed by her open pajama top as she rides him, but always, he touches her-Leslie’s hips, her thighs, down near where they’re connected.
“Ben, Ben, Ben…” She can hardly keep the gasps and moans of his name inside.
After she comes again, she leans in close wraps herself around him even tighter, bracing her arms on the back of the sofa, while he fucks her harder and harder, grasping onto her hips. “I want you to come in me,” she whispers, up close by his ear, before sucking his earlobe into her mouth. That’s really all it takes before he’s groaning and thrusting wildly in release.
Leslie stays in his lap, in his arms, wrapped around him like a warm blanket. He actually dozes off for maybe a minute or two and then wakes with a start.
“I really hope Sewage Joe wasn’t watching that,” Ben tells her with a completely serious look on his face.
“Oh boy. Okay. Let’s get you upstairs and into bed. We can celebrate Christmas after you’ve slept for a few hours.”
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Epilogue:
If he were Ebenezeer Scrooge (or even Scrooge McDuck) he'd be spending the day with the Cratchit's, after procuring the largest Christmas goose in the butcher shop window. But, at four-thirty in the morning on Christmas day, his options were a little slim--Ben stopped at a convenience store and bought Leslie a metal keyring shaped liked the state of Indiana. And a can of whipped cream.
The drive to Pawnee is only a couple of hours, so Ben ends up sitting in her driveway by six-thirty. It's still dark, but he's pretty sure she's up--there's a light on in the living room. But, the more he thinks about this with a clear head, and without the intrusion of Chris, and the Christmas ghosts, the more stupid it seems.
He hasn't even talked to Leslie in two months and now here he is, showing up on her doorstep just because he had a seriously fucked-up dream (it must have been a dream, right?), with Chris, Jean-Ralphio, Sewage Joe, Ann, and then Orin--who was surprisingly eloquent and sensible, all trying to show him that Leslie Knope is his Christmas spirit and that they are supposed to be together.
God. She probably hates him.
As he considers his options, Ben decides that he really has nothing to lose here--he may as well try. He's pretty miserable in Indianapolis. And...he's definitely in love with Leslie, he has been probably for longer than he feels comfortable admitting, even to himself.
Ben knocks softly on her door a few times and just as he's about to turn around, head to his car, and slink quietly back out of town, there she is, standing right in front of him.
Leslie is wearing those red flannel pajamas. The ones that she had on in the 2014 Christmas Eve that Orin showed him. And suddenly, it's so clear--so absolutely, crystal clear. All he wants for Christmas, all he wants any day of the year, is Leslie, and to live in this ridiculous, southern Indiana town full of weirdos, a rampant and dangerous raccoon population, and beautiful asthma-causing sunsets.
This is what he's been wandering around everywhere, looking for all these years--her.
"Ben?"
The words flow out of him in a rush. "I miss you like crazy. I think about you all the time. I want to be with you. This is how I feel. How do you feel?" he says, slowly getting up the courage to finally look her in the eyes. When he does, he also notices the mistletoe hanging above Leslie's doorway.
Her eyes are wide but then she's in his arms, kissing him deeply, absolutely taking his breath away.
When they make it inside, he pulls away long enough to tell her, "I know this could mess up your campaign and I don't want to do that. So...I can wait. We should wait. I'll move back to Pawnee but then after you win the election, we can be together."
She's not saying anything, just staring at him.
"Leslie?"
"You left, Ben," it comes out softly, like she's trying not to cry.
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. I thought I was being selfless but I was being an idiot. I don't even like white furniture."
"What?"
"Never mind. It's not important. I just...I just want you. You are all that I want."
"You left and now you want to wait? Well, maybe I don't want to wait until the election is over. If we do this, we say screw it and we do this thing for real, and we do it now," she insists.
"What about your campaign? How do you imagine we do this?"
"I don't know," Leslie admits. "You're not my boss anymore, but..."
"It'll still look bad," he finishes her sentence. "It could turn into a scandal. It could hurt your chance of winning. We'd have to tell everyone when we started dating--"
"Yes," she agrees. "We would. We'll figure it out. But we're not putting this on hold, Ben. It's too important." And then she's kissing him again, her hands all warm against his chilled face. It makes his heart hurt--just remembering how much he had missed her. And now? The feel of her pressing against him, the feel of her body pressed against his again is the best Christmas present he's ever received.
Ben pulls back suddenly, remembering. "It's Christmas! Merry Christmas," he tells her with a grin, almost laughing with the relief of it all, as she clings onto the material of his jacket.
"Yeah, yeah," she's smiling and nodding, her eyes threatening to spill over with tears. "Merry Christmas," she returns quickly, before moving in for more warm kisses.
"Oh! I bought you a present. It's in my car," he tells her in a rush. "I can go--"
"Ben. I swear to god, if you don't stop talking and make out with me on my face right now, I'm going to hurt you."
"Sorry, sorry," he says, smiling, as he tugs her hips into his, feeling the soft red flannel beneath his fingertips, and slides his hands over her soft curves. "You're right. We can talk about your Christmas present later."
***
Want more? Here is a smutty addendum! Yay!
Ben’s hands are cold as they grip around Leslie’s waist, pulling her close, even through the cuddly warmth of her new red flannel pajamas-a Christmas gift to herself this year (in the spirit of Tom and Donna’s annual celebration, she decided to treat herself a few months ago).
When they stumble past her small, twinkling, table-top Christmas tree and end up on the couch, Leslie straddling Ben’s lap, she’s surprised but still completely content when their kisses turn more into hugs. Soon she has her face buried in between his shoulder and neck, breathing in that unique Ben-smell that she’s thought about so often over the last few months.
His hands now warm, he’s starting to rub his palms up and down her back, first over her pajamas and then underneath, against her bare skin.
God it feels good.
“I missed you so much,” she tells him, face still snuggled near his neck. She kisses the skin there, just above the collar of his plaid shirt. Pauses to wipe her watery eyes against his plaid-covered shoulder.
“I missed you too, Leslie,” he tells her back, easily and without any hesitation. It’s almost too much, the raw emotion in his voice.
“I’m sorry.”
Ben leads her back, so he can look her in the eyes. “For what?”
She hardly knows where to start. For letting him go? For not realizing how much she loved him before they broke up?
It seems better to start small.
“For driving you to that deserted gas station. And then for saying that the romantic part of our relationship was over. That was…a huge lie.” She was trying to do the right thing and give him up…which was stupid. Just as stupid as Ben trying to give her up way back when this first started-when he originally broke up with her via a campaign button so she could pursue her dream. Incredibly sweet but so dumb.
“Good,” Ben comments. “Or else this would be getting really awkward.”
Leslie smiles, pushes her hips into his and yep, it would be getting awkward-she’s pretty sure that is not his car keys or his phone in his pocket.
Hundreds of times she’s played this out in her head-scenario after scenario where they reunite and…quickly end up in a naked heap. In a park. In an Indianapolis restaurant. In her car. And she’s pretty sure that’s where this is headed, but this right now is so good. This is better than good. This is Ben in her house on Christmas morning, all cuddly and warm, although completely exhausted and beyond-vulnerable looking, but also hers again.
He really does look like he hardly got any sleep last night and she’s still not quite sure how this even happened. Leslie’s just incredibly grateful that it did.
“What made you come back to…Pawnee?”
Ben studies her face for a moment. “I spent all last night, and well, this morning, thinking about my future. And my past too. And Leslie, the best part of it was you. The best part has always been you. I didn’t want to give that up without at least trying, without telling you how I felt. And Christmas seemed like a good time to try.”
She nods. “I’ve wanted to drive to your new place so many times, I even got in my car last-”
“Wait. How did you know where I lived?”
“Oh,” she shifts in his lap gently, but his hands stay securely around her hips, keeping her mostly in place. “Well…uh, Chris…”
Ben makes a face. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“He didn’t…technically,” Leslie starts. “I may have stole his phone when he wasn’t looking and got your new contact info that way.”
He cuts her off with a kiss. “That seems…reasonable.”
“Okay, good. And when you get it in the mail, if you haven’t already, you should disregard the invitation to join the Sci-Fi, Accounting, and Model Train Club of Indianapolis from their president Harrison Westminster Thunderclap the Third. And attend their annual dinner on January 8th.”
“I…what?”
“That was me. I made that up. I was going to show up at the restaurant and be all, whaaat? Ben, what are you doing here? Oh, well, maybe we should have dinner together and…”
“Okay.” He’s looking at her tiredly. Happy, but tired. And maybe a little confused?
“Oh, and-” She starts.
“Leslie. I don’t care what other inventive…surprises you had planned for me in Indy. So you can probably stop telling me,” Ben remarks, but he’s smiling so she knows he’s not actually mad or anything. Now it’s her turn to agree. She nods quickly. Kisses him instead, grinds down against where he’s growing even harder.
“I definitely missed this,” she says quietly when they briefly pull apart. She missed it all-missed having Ben as her boyfriend, the snuggling, the laughing, the watching history documentaries and then making out.
“Oh yeah?”
Leslie nods as Ben starts unbuttoning her pajama top. He spreads the material open and just takes in the sight of her breasts for a second or two. Then he starts to palm them with his hands, brushing his thumbs lightly across her nipples in a way that makes her shiver and release a small groan. Ben leans in and kisses her skin, just to the side of her left nipple.
“I missed this spot right here,” he sucks gently at the flesh. “And also this spot,” he kisses between her breasts. “And here,” he adds, before licking and then pulling a nipple into his mouth, tonguing the skin and teasing it gently with his front teeth.
“Ben.”
Her hands move from his shoulders, to down his sides, while his leave her hips and search lower, one sliding down under her pajama pants, past damp curls and against her sensitive skin. He uses his fingers to spread and hold her open, before brushing a fingertip lightly against her clit.
God, he was always so good at zeroing in right there.
“I think this is one of the spots I missed the most. I really missed making you all wet. And then making you come.”
Ben’s fingers slide in and out of her, circle her clit, making her squirm around in his lap and moan. The way he’s looking at her, all heavy-lidded and turned on from her gasps and moans…she comes faster than she would have thought possible.
Afterwards, he lazily runs his hands over her thighs, brushing her skin with moisture. Ben has to grab onto her hips to steady her as she slides her pajama pants all the way down and off one leg and then down the other. Leslie tosses the red flannel on the couch next to them.
She’s still wearing her Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer socks, but what the hell? It is Christmas.
But here’s a real question-why is he still fully dressed? She gives him a smile as she unbuttons and unzips his pants, tugs the material away and gently pushes his boxer-briefs down. When Leslie wraps her hand around him and runs her thumb over the tip of his cock, she says, “I really missed your dick.”
Ben laughs, kind of an unexpected half-snort mixed with a full-on guffaw at her words.
“Well, now I know what I should have gotten you for a Christmas present instead of a keychain…or even a Christmas goose,” he tells her, which kind of makes no sense (a goose?), and then Ben starts singing the chorus to Dick in a Box, before he dissolves into laughter.
Leslie widens her eyes and giggles, all while slowly running her hand over him.
Silly Ben usually only comes out when…he hasn’t slept at all. Like that one time back in May when she kept him up all night discussing the General Authorities Act of 1970 and then complaining about how Ann thought Leslie couldn’t pull off a tulip skirt. Then they came up with that game of strip Risk around three AM. And he had started talking in different accents as he moved his game pieces around and took off his clothes.
As if to confirm her suspicion, Ben groans softly and lays his head against the back of her couch with a, “Fuck. I’m so tired,” all while his hands continue to glide over her hips, then one moves down to play softly with her folds again.
Leslie stops stroking him. “Babe? We can get you to bed. Are you too sleepy for-”
“No,” he answers quickly. “No. No. No.” And then he lets out a long moan as she grasps him firmly at the base and sinks down on her present.
“Oh god Leslie. You feel so amazing. I’m never too tired for this.”
She moves slowly, because really there’s no hurry and also, it has been more than a few months. She lets him stretch her out, relishes the way he fills her up completely. Ben’s here and he’s not going away again.
He alternates between closing his eyes and moaning, to looking up at her and watching her breasts bounce, framed by her open pajama top as she rides him, but always, he touches her-Leslie’s hips, her thighs, down near where they’re connected.
“Ben, Ben, Ben…” She can hardly keep the gasps and moans of his name inside.
After she comes again, she leans in close wraps herself around him even tighter, bracing her arms on the back of the sofa, while he fucks her harder and harder, grasping onto her hips. “I want you to come in me,” she whispers, up close by his ear, before sucking his earlobe into her mouth. That’s really all it takes before he’s groaning and thrusting wildly in release.
Leslie stays in his lap, in his arms, wrapped around him like a warm blanket. He actually dozes off for maybe a minute or two and then wakes with a start.
“I really hope Sewage Joe wasn’t watching that,” Ben tells her with a completely serious look on his face.
“Oh boy. Okay. Let’s get you upstairs and into bed. We can celebrate Christmas after you’ve slept for a few hours.”