Work Text:
It's that time of year again. The time of year that you feel the most lonely. The time year where your friends are busy with their families, your job is dull with even duller people to even consider a work place party, and the only person who could make Christmas better is a famous actor who doesn't have time for you. Just your luck. Is this some kind of pathetic joke, or what?
You sat on your sofa, mindlessly watching whatever was on. Some kind of Christians movie. You watched as the main character was surrounded by people, the person they loved most wrapping their hand around the others waist. You groaned and turned off the TV. You pulled your phone from your pocket and scrolled through social media. All of your friends having a great Christmas, around their family or just with that special someone. God, can't you get a break. You moved you thumb to turn your phone off before you got a call. It was from Mr. Broadway Success, Christian Borle.
You almost dropped your phone. You scrambled to hit the green answer button.
"A-Ah, Christian, what's up?"
"Hey, I was just checking if you were home, so I could visit."
You went blank for a second. Him, visit, you? You were pulled out of your thoughts by Christian explaining his situation.
"You see, I came here to visit my parents, as a surprise. Turns out the surprise part didn't turn out so well. When I got to their house, it was completely empty. I called them and it looks like I came all the way here for my parents to be somewhere else for Christmas."
Oh. Makes sense.
"Well, that would explain why you're out of New York."
"Yeah, well, are you home? I hope you are, because I heading to your house."
Oh, damn. You need to clean the house the best you can before he gets there. You held the phone between your head and your shoulder as you got your mop out of your closet and started mopping.
"Alright, Christian, uh, I am home. I'll see you in a few."
Before he got a chance to say bye, you hung up. You dusted your shelves, wiped down your counters and tables, all before you a heard a knock on your door. You washed your hands and dusted yourself off before opening the door. You looked up at the man and...saw nothing different. He looked exactly the same. His face, his body, his hair, his eyes, his smile... You snapped yourself out of his when you felt a pair of arms warp around you. Oh, God, if he was going to be like this the whole time, you weren't going to survive.
Or, you could just get drunk and handle it like that.
Yeah, that's the easier option.
You led Christian to your living room, leaving him to wait until you came back. When you came back, you brought back a bottle of wine and two glasses. Glass after glass, you guys drank, laughed, and told stories. In your drunken state, you could help but just stare while he laughed. With you. In your home. Christian didn't drink so much since he had to drive, but you let yourself go wild. You leaned on Christian, a soft smile on your lips.
"I love you, Christian. I've loved you since we were in University. Isn't that funny?"
You slurred your words, you could feel your conscious slipping. Just before it all went away, you heard Christian.
"What?"