sweet nothings (stris)

you would be there, too (under the mistletoe)

Street and Chris get caught up in a classic Christmas tradition until someone else wakes up.

(Christmas fluff, making out, Alonso family, getting caught, short and sweet.)

-x-

There's a chill in the air but Chris is all Street needs to be cozy on Christmas morning.

She's still asleep when Street blinks himself awake, her back pressed against his chest and feet against his shins, now, at least, warm. Running a hand down the soft, worn comforter that covers them both, Street presses a kiss to the delicate spot behind Chris's ear, lips as light as falling snow. Though she doesn't wake, Street feels her body shift, and smiles.

It's too early for the rest of her family to be awake upstairs, Street knows his SWAT schedule is the only reason why he's up, but now that he is, his thirst makes itself known. Carefully, he disentangles himself from Chris, eyes tracing over her once he's standing, and pads softly up the stairs to the kitchen to start tea.

He doesn't get far, the low hum of the Keuring doling out 12 ounces of hot water, before Chris's groggy voice stops him as he roots through their cabinets.

"One more to the left," she mumbles, lips quirking up when he startles at her sudden appearance. Recovering, Street thanks her when he finds what he's looking for: a box of spiced apple tea and a bottle of honey.

Chris rubs the rest of her sleep from her eyes and walks to Street, sinking into the warmth of his touch when he wraps an arm around her.

"I didn't mean to wake you." He whispers, an effort not to break the peaceful stillness of the house. Chris hums, pulls a spoon from the drawer for him to mix the honey in with.

"You didn't, it's cold without you. Start me a coffee?"

Street nods, grabbing a second mug and a K-cup while Chris slips from underneath his arm to go to the bathroom.

A shiver runs over Street once Chris is gone, and he hums Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas as he grabs the cream for her brewed coffee. Pouring until it's the right shade, there's a snowman mug of candy canes next to the stove. He can't help but unwrap one and stir with it, letting it hang off the rim when he's done.

Street leaves the drinks to put the cream away, but freezes when he sees a red ribbon and green leaves dangling from the top of the doorway. Smirking, he closes the fridge door and leans against it, waiting.

Making her way back down the hallway, enticed by the smell of coffee and smiling at the presents illuminated by the lights of the Christmas tree, Chris nearly knocks into Street when she turns the corner. He stands up straight, blocking her path back to the kitchen. Chris squints suspiciously and tries to see behind him.

"The smoke alarm isn't going off. Did you break a mug or something?"

Without a word, Street points upward.

Chris knows what he's pointing to without having to look, pressing her lips into a line and closing her eyes, her shoulders rise with a sigh.