12 Days of Christmas.

December 24th

There were three rules for The Holland's Annual Christmas Eve Party. One, Christmas jumpers are mandatory (the uglier the better). Two, you must take a Polaroid and pin it on the corkboard in the kitchen. Three, Christmas jumpers are mandatory.

The house was teeming with festive cheer, films playing on a loop in the living room and music blasting from the kitchen. Dogs and children blocked the stairways, family and friends gathered in every room with drinks in hand. You and Tom had managed to secure a single seat in the snug just off the kitchen, you perched on his lap with his arm around your waist.

Despite such confined quarters, you were involved in entirely different conversations. Tom was having a heated discussion with your friend Lucy about whether or not you should have Yorkshire puddings with Christmas dinner, while Tom's cousin Abby was commenting on the absence of a mutual friend of yours.

"...yeah they stayed home since it's their first Christmas with the baby," you explained.

"Oh shit, yeah," Abby laughed. "That's mad, can't believe they've got a kid now."

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. Your twenties are a weird time - half your friends are engaged and having babies and the other half are just about dragging themselves through the week to get to Gin O'Clock on a Friday.

"What about you guys," Abby waved her beer bottle in the general direction of you and Tom, not catching your eyes widening and your drink catching in your throat. "Is this your second Christmas in the flat?"

"Jesus," you swallowed harshly, laughing. "I thought you were asking if I'm pregnant!"

"You're pregnant?!"

You groaned as both Tom and Lucy's attention snapped to your conversation, conveniently overhearing just the very end of your statement.

"No no no no no-" Shaking your head vehemently, you scrambled to clarify, looking to Abby for assistance.

"We were talking about Julia's baby, and then I asked if this was their second Christmas living together," she explained.

Lucy hummed, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed you suspiciously.

"I swear, Luce," you chuckled.

"Anyway, no, it's our first Christmas since this one moved in," Tom's arm tightened around your waist, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "Came home to Santa's workshop in the spare room."

A mock-indignant scowl on your face, you gave Tom's arm around your waist a quick squeeze back. You'd already dealt with the onslaught of questions from his relatives about when you were getting married and having kids - not if, when - so you were grateful for the diversion.

"Why am I not surprised?" Lucy sighed with a smile - you'd been friends long enough that she knew all about your enthusiasm for all things festive.

"When did you come home? You've been back a while, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Tom nodded, shifting underneath you to look at his cousin as he answered her. "Been home all of December, pretty much."

"Oh man," Lucy grimaced. "Are you not sick of her yet?"

You twisted on Tom's knee, fixing him with as stern an expression as you could muster after three drinks.

"Be very careful how you answer that."

Tom's eyes darted from side to side, his fingers tugging at the neck of his jumper.

"I, er, - is it warm in here - are you warm? I'm warm -"

Abby and Lucy giggled, watching you scowl as Tom feigned panic. You tried your best to keep your brow furrowed and your lip curled, but that became difficult when Tom chuckled, leaning back and to the side so he could see your face properly.

"Nah but it's been really nice actually, y'know?" Tom smiled as your face softened, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. "Missed her a lot, so yeah, happy to be home."

Maybe it was the champagne, or the festive atmosphere filling the house - good will to all men and all that, but your heart swelled in your chest at his words. It wasn't anything new, of course you already knew he missed you and he was glad to be home, but it was different hearing him say it to someone else. You smiled as Tom shrugged, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, tilting his head up to press his lips to yours. It was only a quick kiss, a peck really, but it made your lips tingle all the same, feeling him smile into the kiss.

You heard Abby and Lucy's 'aww'ing beside you, but they were drowned out by Harry's 'eurgh'. You pulled apart to scowl at him, sticking your tongue out playfully. He was weaving through people taking photographs on the camera hanging around his neck, a beer in his hand. Kevin McCallister's face was knitted into the front of his jumper, 'Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal' embroidered underneath.

"Have you stopped being gross long enough to take your picture yet?"

You shook your head, peering over his shoulder at the cork board hanging on the kitchen wall. Polaroids were pinned on haphazardly, too far away for you to make out any of the faces in them, but you could see the blur of the lights on the Christmas tree in the background of a few of them.

"Where's Tess?" Tom looked around the room, trying to spot her. "She's gotta be in it."

Eventually Tess was discovered in the dining room, apparently trying to pull the nibbles off the table by the sheer force with which she was inhaling, sniffing around the edge of the table when she thought no one was looking. Tom scooped her up into his arms - much to her dismay - and brought her back to the snug. The spot beside you had been vacated now, so he was able to squeeze in next to you with Tess across both your laps. You pointed at Harry in an attempt to get Tess to look at the camera, whispering excitedly at her. It was a futile effort, though - she just stared at your hand, trying to give you her paw in the hopes you might give her a treat in exchange. Harry soon gave up, snapping a photo and handing it to you before darting off in the direction of a tin of mince pies making its way around the kitchen.

White spots clouding your vision from the flash, you blinked hard as you waited for the picture to develop. Soon enough, details started to emerge from the darkness, the image coming into focus. Matching jumpers covered yours and Tessa's torsos, red and green santa hats printed onto the material in a classic festive pattern. You'd begged and pleaded with Tom to get him to wear one too, but he wasn't having it - no matter how many blowjobs you offered him. He'd had the same Christmas jumper for years, and he wasn't about to change that. So there he sat, his orange and burgundy fairisle jumper ruining the family photo. You took a picture of it on your phone before pinning it up, though, despite your uncoordinated outfits. Your head was thrown back as you laughed, Tessa balanced precariously on Tom's lap as she tried to lick your hand and give you her paw at once, her tongue a pink blur. Her tail was a blur, too, mid-wag and thumping against Tom's chest. He didn't seem to notice, though - his eyes were fixed on you, a wide smile across his face.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur of food, drinks, and Wham! singalongs, and it wasn't long before everyone was saying their goodbyes and Merry Christmas's as people made their way home. You stayed long enough to help tidy up, but once the last glass was out of the dishwasher you were on your way. Tom's parents asked at least three more times if you didn't want to just stay - and you were tempted, especially when you opened the front door and felt the cold midnight air - but you declined. After much deliberation, you and Tom had decided to spend Christmas Eve Night alone. You'd be coming over to spend the day anyway, but seeing as it was your first Christmas living together you both really wanted to spend Christmas morning at home.

So, with tummies full of mince pies and hearts full of festive cheer, you sighed a contented sigh as you settled into bed. Tom slotted in behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder. You shuffled back further into his embrace, twisting your neck to kiss him softly, feeling him murmur against your lips as much as you heard him.

"Merry Christmas, baby."