All I Want for Christmas: a funny and sexy festive novella

by Keris Stainton

  ‘That sounds good,’ I say. It does. Normal. Normal is good. Isn't it?

  Joe makes the toast and the tea while I stand there, stuck, and try to make sense of my thoughts. I get a text from Amy. Can't get home. Don't worry. See you tomorrow.

  I reply with Where r u?, expecting an instant response, but nothing comes through.

  Joe puts the tea and the toast on the coffee table and we sit at opposite ends of the sofa. I lean back against the arm of the sofa and pull my knees up in front of me.

  ‘After my parents died –’ I start.

  ‘Honestly, we don't have to talk about this,’ Joe says.

  ‘Do you actually not want to talk about it or do you just think I don't want to talk about it?’

  ‘If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. If you do? I'm happy to listen,’ Joe says.

  ‘I just want to explain why this is... a lot for me.’

  ‘Okay.’ He nods.

  ‘After they died, I didn't know what to do. I was at university, but I wasn't happy. I only really went because I didn't know what else to do – I still don't – and I'd thought about leaving loads of times, but I was worried about what my parents would think. So then I didn't have to worry about that and I left.’

  ‘I get that,’ Joe says.

  ‘I was going out with this guy, Danny. It wasn't right. He was nice, but there was no...’

  ‘He wasn't into your sexy dressing gown?’

  ‘He really wasn't,’ I say. ‘So I ended things with him too. I was going to start really living, you know? When my parents died...’ I clench my teeth. ‘It made me think of how short life is? I mean, I know that's a really obvious thing to think. It's just... it's not something I'd ever really got before. I knew it, but I didn't know it.’

  Joe nods.

  ‘So then when they died, I started thinking about how I wanted to live my life. My parents were amazing. They really enjoyed themselves. They travelled a lot – you would've loved them – and they were... they were sort of fearless, you know?’ I feel tears running down my face and rub them away with the palms of my hands. ‘So when they died, I had this idea that I was going to start really living. As a tribute to them. It's what they would've wanted and all that.’

  ‘That makes sense,’ Joe says. He shuffles up the sofa and takes my hand.

  ‘But it didn't really work out that way,’ I say. ‘I quit university, I finished with Danny and then I stopped. I got stuck. I haven't done anything since. I haven't been anywhere and I don't even know where I would go and what I can do. I'm too scared.’

  Joe pulls me against him and I press my face against his neck. ‘I'm happy here,’ I say. ‘Can I just stay here?’

  He laughs. ‘For how long?’

  ‘Forever?’

  ‘I'm not sure there's enough mouldy bread to last us forever...’

  I push myself down the sofa and Joe slides round so he's half behind me and I'm half lying on him. His arms snake around my waist and he starts playing with the tie belt on my dressing gown.

  ‘I was only supposed to go travelling for three months,’ Joe says, his mouth against my hair. ‘But when it was time to come back, I couldn't. My family is... my family is fantastic, but like I said, my dad in particular is... he's keen on us all doing exactly what he did. We went to Manchester Uni because he went there. We were all supposed to go travelling for three months because that's what he did. He bought the tickets, planned the same route – Asia, Australia, you know? But when I was away, the thought of coming home made me so angry. The closer it got, the worse I felt until I was picking fights and basically acting like a total arsehole. Then I extended my ticket. On my dad's credit card. Which I'd stolen from his office.’

  ‘Whoa.’

  ‘You know you asked the worse thing I've done? That was it.’

  I rub my head against him like a cat. ‘You were scared.’

  ‘That's no excuse. My parents were disgusted. Not just because of taking the card, but because I extended the trip. They were furious I wouldn't come back. Dad even threatened to have me arrested... So I started picking up some work so I didn't need their money. And I actually really enjoyed it. But I promised them I'd be back after a year and now the year's up. So in January I'm meant to start work at my dad's business. And I'm not going to.’

  ‘Have you told them?’ I drop a kiss on his collarbone.

  ‘Hell no. I'm waiting until after Christmas.’

  ‘Maybe they'll understand?’

  ‘They won't,’ he says.

  ‘So what will they do?’

  ‘I don't know. Matt – my brother – he thinks they'll cut me off completely. But my sister thinks they've sort of accepted it anyway and they'll just pretend to be pissed off but really they'll be fine.’

  ‘And your other brother?’

  ‘He doesn't think I should join the business anyway. He thinks I should just do what I want to do and not worry about them.’

  ‘That's clear then.’

  ‘I'm dreading Christmas. I mean, not like you are...’

  I laugh. ‘Nope. Not much Christmas spirit here.’

  He kisses the back of my neck and my toes curl against the leather sofa. ‘You haven't even eaten your toast,’ I say.

  ‘Lost my appetite,’ he murmurs. Then adds, ‘In a good way.’

  I laugh. ‘I was going to say...’

  I roll over and straddle him and love the way his eyes widen as I lower myself onto his lap.

  ‘Maybe you don't need to worry about Christmas.’ I drag my fingers down his chest and his back arches, pressing his crotch up against mine. I wriggle. ‘Maybe we'll be snowed in till New Year.’

  ‘We'd starve,’ he says, his hands on my hips pulling me harder against him. ‘How long before we'd have to eat each other?’

  I grin. ‘I thought I might start now.’

  I crawl backwards down the sofa, taking his boxers with me.

  We lie on the sofa and talk about everything. We talk about primary school and our first kisses. We talk about our best and worst Christmases and show each other our scars. We talk about TV and music and films and food. I learn that he makes a really hilarious noise when I run my tongue down his stomach and he learns it drives me insane to feel his stubble against my breasts. My robe has come off and the belt is wrapped around my thigh. It feels really good. So good that I pull it out of the robe and wrap it around Joe's thigh before slowly pulling it free. He moans and arches his back then grabs the belt in one hand and my wrists with the other hand.

  ‘Oh no,’ I say.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he says, grinning. With his jaw dark with stubble he looks a strange and sexy combination of cheeky and evil.

  He wraps the belt around my wrists and knots it.

  ‘Not too tight,’ I say, wriggling against his thighs.

  He pulls on the loose bits of the tie to lift my hands over my head and dips his head to my breasts. I close my eyes tight and fall back against the cushions.

  ‘It's still coming down,’ Joe says, as I make us coffee.

  I glance out of the window. I've never seen the city looking like this. Everything is white and the falling flakes look like chunks. The snow has piled up on the window ledge about six inches deep and together with the yellow light from the street lamp it's casting a strange greenish glow into the kitchen.

  ‘Look how perfect it is,’ I say, resting my head against the glass.

  ‘You want to go out?’ Joe says.

  I turn and run my knuckles across the muscles in his stomach. I can't seem to stop touching him.

  ‘No. Be much too cold.’

  ‘What did you say about starting to live?’ he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me across the room towards our clothes.

  ‘This is living!’ I say. ‘Coffee! Sex. Looking out at the freezing cold snow!’

  ‘Nope,’ Joe says. He pulls on his jeans and I take a second to admire the way they fit him, before I say, ‘It's dangerous out there at night.’


  ‘Firstly,’ Joe says, ‘not if you're with me.’ He flexes his arms and pretends to kiss his, admittedly impressive, biceps. ‘Secondly – who'd be stupid enough to go out there in this weather?’

  It's actually really beautiful down on the street. Everything looks different – clean and white and soft. The city even sounds different. The side streets are pretty much dead. There are a few cars crawling along Market Street, but so slowly that the swishing noise from the snow under their wheels is almost louder than the sound of their engines. As soon as I see Piccadilly Gardens I'm so glad we came out. It looks like something from a fairytale – the wooden cabins of the Christmas market are blanketed with snow. One of the stallholders has forgotten to turn off the fairy lights so right in the centre of the square, there's a small tree, winking blue and red and green through the ice. No one else has been here, so the snow is completely untouched.

  ‘I almost don't want to go in,’ I say. ‘It looks so perfect.’

  A car passes behind us slightly too fast, throwing freezing slush at the backs of our legs. I shudder.

  ‘Perfect is boring,’ Joe says. ‘Messy is much more fun.’

  He grabs my hand and we run into the square, the snow flying up under our feet. Joe darts off around a chalet and I run around it the other way and almost slam into him. He throws himself back on the ground to do a snow angel. I watch him, grinning.

  ‘You too,’ he says.

  I shake my head. ‘Too cold!’

  ‘Maybe you're right,’ he says. He sits up and then grabs my ankle. ‘Oh wait. No, you're not.’

  He pulls me down on top of him and as I look into his eyes I feel beyond dizzy. Is this real? It doesn't feel real.

  ‘Am I dreaming?’ I say. ‘Doesn't this feel surreal to you?’

  He grabs a handful of snow and drops it down my back and I roll away from him, screaming.

  ‘Feel more awake now?’ he asks.

  I make my snow angel and then chase after him, but he hits me full in the face with a snowball. It doesn't take us long to pretty much completely destroy the pristine scene we found when we arrived. Our footprints criss-cross in every direction and snowballs are splattered against almost all of the stalls. Joe slips on some ice and comes down hard on his back, but when I run over to check he's okay, he pulls me down on top of him.

  ‘I'm so glad we got snowed in,’ he says, kissing my neck just under my ear. Exactly where he knows I can't resist. I grind against him to teach him a lesson and he groans.

  ‘I should've brought that belt tie with me,’ he says.

  He's got snow in his hair and melting in his eyebrows. I lick it off and he grabs my arse with both hands. I feel my stomach leap and then drop. I've never felt like this before. I've never wanted anyone this much. It's terrifying. I press my mouth to his. His face is cold, but his lips are warm. He moves his hands up into my hair and I kiss him deeper, my tongue sliding along the underside of his top lip, making him groan. I can't quite believe we're lying in the middle of Piccadilly Gardens in the snow and there is no one around to tell us not to do this. Joe rolls me over onto my back and the freezing snow on the back of my neck makes me shudder, but is also somehow erotic, particularly in contrast with the warmth of his body.

  ‘My hands are freezing,’ he says. Then slides them under my coat and jumper and straight to my breasts. I clench my teeth together to stop myself from screaming.

  ‘Let's go back,’ I say and my voice doesn't sound like me.

  ‘I think we'd better,’ Joe says. ‘I need to get you out of these wet things.’

  *

  ‘I want you to come home with me for Christmas,’ Joe says against my neck.

  When we got back to the flat, we got straight in the bath and now I don't think I'll ever want to get out.

  ‘No,’ I say. And then add, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Hear me out.’ He licks at some water running from my hair along my shoulder.

  ‘If you're doing that to distract me into saying yes, you're kidding yourself.’

  ‘I'm not,’ he says. ‘I'm doing this…’ He runs his tongue across my shoulders at the nape of my neck and I even though the water's hot, I shiver. ‘Because you are delicious. Now listen.’

  ‘I'm listening,’ I say. I trail one hand up the inside of his thigh and he clamps it still with his hand.

  ‘In order for you to listen, I need to be capable of speech,’ he says. ‘I know you want to be alone. I respect that.’

  ‘But…’ I say.

  ‘But we're both dreading Christmas. You're dreading it because you're going to be without your family. I'm dreading it because I'm going to be with mine. My family is actually really great – most of the time. You'll love them and they'll love you and I'll hate it 200% less if you're there with me.’

  He releases my hand and I dig my fingers into his thigh. I turn my head and kiss the top of his arm that's curved around me.

  ‘It's too much,’ I say. ‘Thank you. For thinking of it. But we only just met. I can't be going to meet your family and certainly not for Christmas.’

  ‘They won't mind. They invite all sorts of waifs and strays, I promise you. Not that you're a waif or –’

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘I'm just an orphan.’

  His arms tighten around me. ‘I can't stand the thought of you being alone for Christmas. I honestly can't stand it. It makes me want to cry. And I am a really ugly crier. There's snot and everything.’

  ‘I was kind of planning to just pretend it's not Christmas and try the whole starting afresh thing in the New Year.’

  ‘Well, don't do that. Do the opposite. Have a big warm family Christmas. Save me from my father. Help my mother set fire to the Christmas pudding. Let my nieces give you a makeover. I'll tell you which uncles are handsy and which are the angry drunks and which are the maudlin drunks, then we'll sneak away to my parents' garden office and… Well. I'm sure you can think of something.’

  ‘Wait for Santa?’

  ‘If that's what you want to call it, yes.’

  Chapter 8

  I’m so full of nervous energy I can’t settle down to anything. Parts of me are aching that have never ached before, so I’d love to just sit down and put my feet up, but every time I try I only last a few seconds before jumping up again. It took Joe a couple of hours to actually leave. I didn’t want him to go, he didn’t want to go, but the streets had cleared a bit and a couple of trains were running so he thought he’d better take advantage of them and go home. But it seemed too final. Even though he's already called from the tram. And even though I'll be seeing him tomorrow if – and it's still an if – I go to his parents' for Christmas, it just seemed wrong that he was leaving.

  I clean the kitchen more thoroughly than it's ever been cleaned and then I start on the lounge. I pull out the sofa cushions and pummel them into the correct shape and blush when I unearth a pair of knickers from down the side of the arm. Except they're not mine. They're much sexier than mine – black and pink satin with ribbon ties on the sides. These aren't knickers for wearing as underwear, these are sex knickers. I feel a completely unreasonable flash of annoyance at Joe – as if he could have left another girl's knickers down the side of my sofa, but then I realise they must be Lee's. Or rather, a girl Lee's brought here. I feel another flash of annoyance that Lee's been having sex on the communal sofa, but then I think about Joe and me and I have to sit down.

  Minutes later I'm in the bathroom scrubbing out the bath and wiping all the surfaces. It makes sense. If I do go to Joe's I want to leave the flat as clean as possible for when we all come back. The three of us always plan to do it when we go away, but time always gets away from us and we end up leaving it a complete pigsty. At least I'll be starting the new year as I mean to go on, as far as housework's concerned. That's such a tedious thought that I abandon the bathroom and start straightening up my bedroom.

  As I pull the sheet off the bed, I can smell Joe. Lemon and something. Sage? Do I even know what sage sm
ells like? I feel like it's something green. Just the scent makes me feel weak and I sit down on the edge of the bed. The edge of the bed he bent me over last night. Or was it this morning? Whenever it was, it was one of the most erotic experiences of my life. And I can't wait to do it again. I stand up, pull all the bedding off the bed and shove the lot into the washing machine. In the kitchen, I picture Joe naked, standing by the window looking out at the snow, and I press my thighs together.

  I hear a key in the front door, pour myself a glass of water and turn to Amy and Lee with my most innocent face.

  ‘What have you been up to?’ Amy says instantly.

  So much for my innocent face. I blush. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You and Joe here alone all day and night? Snowed in?’ She grins.

  She comes straight into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. ‘Why's it so clean in here?’ She looks at me and says, ‘Ew! Did you have to disinfect all the surfaces? You filthy cow.’

  I laugh. ‘I just cleaned cos you're going away. And because it needed cleaning and I needed something to take my mind off Joe.’

  ‘Things didn't work out?’ Lee asks, leaning against the back of the sofa.

  I narrow my eyes at him. I haven't forgotten the knickers I found earlier.

  ‘No, it was great,’ I say. ‘But he wants me to go home with him for Christmas and –’

  ‘He wants you to what?!’ Amy interrupts, crossing the kitchen in a couple of strides and grabbing my arm. ‘Did he propose?’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Of course he didn't propose, he just –’

  ‘It's pretty full-on though,’ Lee says. ‘I mean meeting family's bad enough, but at Christmas?’

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘But he's dreading it cos of his dad. And he really doesn't want me to be on my own, so...’

  ‘We don't want you to be on your own!’ Amy says. ‘We've been saying that for months. Are you really considering going to Joe's?’

  I frown. ‘I'm considering it,’ I say, slowly. ‘It's not a commitment thing though, I promise you. It's a feeling sorry for the adult orphan thing. And I just think... he's going away again in January, so why not spend as much time as I can with him while he's here?’