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Christmas really was the most magical time of year in your opinion. How could you not like the spirit of joy that came with decorating trees and exchanging presents, a holiday all about gorging on delicious food and being merry with the help of alcohol? You had tried to explain this to your boyfriend, who just looked angry (though it wasn’t too dissimilar to his normal resting face) that you had been sucked into the world of extravagant greed and overindulgence of capitalism. He had thought better of you, apparently.
But Nathan wasn’t going to dissuade you from enjoying Christmas. You had gotten away with hanging a few fairy lights in the living room, you had swapped his normal plain coffee mug with one that had cartoon reindeers on it, and when someone rang you on your BlueBook cellphone, Slade’s Merry Christmas Everybody started playing. But that was it. You weren’t going to push your luck.
It was one December morning that you thought you were beginning to see a crack in Nathan’s apathetic facade. You had woken up alone, which wasn’t unusual as Nathan would often leave you in bed when inspiration struck or a new idea came to mind and you would find him later on in one of his lab rooms working on something.
You had padded barefoot into the kitchen and began making coffee and breakfast for the two of you. The air was foggy outside and gave the appearance of being high up in the clouds, reminding you of how isolated this place was.
The coffee machine was buzzing and the bacon was sizzling in the pan when you placed your phone on the counter opposite the stove and started playing a Christmas playlist. You sang along quietly, turning the bacon, cracking the eggs and adding cream to your coffee.
The songs went from upbeat pop that you knew all the words to and mixed with the older, softer songs you could sway along to. Sinatra’s White Christmas came on when you felt warm hands settle on your hips from behind, pulling you away from the stove and swaying you to the beat of the music, the movements slow and lazy and not really going anywhere.
You smiled and settled back against Nathan’s firm chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His thick, fuzzy beard tickled the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, his lips touched the outer shell of your ear, teasingly resting there but not doing anything.
Nathan wasn’t an overly affectionate man. You knew he loved you, in his own unique way, but he wasn’t a typically romantic person. You wouldn’t expect a candlelit dinner on Valentine’s Day or love notes scattered around the house for you to find. Your love wasn’t Hollywood romance. He preferred subtlety, like walking behind you on a hike to catch you if you fell, or remembering to cook your steak just how you like it, even though it was different to how he liked his.
But occasionally Nathan surprised you. He was a man who moved where the mood took him, which kept you on your toes and made your relationship exciting.
Nathan kept you swaying like that for the rest of the song. You were both content to stay there in each other’s warmth. When another song began, a modern take on an old classic that was a little more upbeat, Nathan stepped back and spun you around by the waist to face him. He was naked you realised, a common occurrence you had gotten used to over time, and there were bags under his eyes letting you know he had left your shared room shortly after you had fallen asleep the night before.
You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck as he pulled you flush against his bare body, his hands trailing down to rest on your ass.
“Your rhythm is stiff, you need to relax,” Nathan observed, and you felt him use his hands on your ass to move you side to side, trying to loosen up your hips.
“I thought I was relaxed,” you pouted.
“You’re not.”
“I thought we were having a moment,” you scoffed, you should have known this would turn into a lesson.
“I’m simultaneously improving your coordination and distracting you from that fucking screech that is Christmas music,” Nathan retorted, sounding equally disgusted and offended.
You threw your head back and laughed, earning you a sharp smack on the ass that had you gasping.
“I made you bacon, eggs and coffee and you’re not getting any of it unless you’re nice,” you warned, trying to move backwards towards the stove but Nathan’s hold on you held fast.
He let go of you only to grab your wrist and twirl you in a circle before pulling you into him to lick fiercely into your mouth, knocking your breath away at how forceful it was. His hands carded roughly through your hair, catching on a few knots that sent a jolt of heat down to your core. He pushed you into the counter, grinding his hips against yours as he began to grow hard. Just as you were melting into him and let him have his way with you, he pulled back dramatically, pulling you away from the counter to spin you in a circle once more before ushering you towards the stove.
“Bacon and eggs sounds fantastic,” he spoke over his shoulder as he walked calmly over to the coffee machine to grab his mug.
“Prick,” you mumbled under your breath as you plated up the breakfast.
“What was that, darling?” Nathan asked in a sickly sweet tone that reeked of sarcasm.
You shot him a glare and said nothing more. You would find a way to get back at him, even if that’s exactly what he wanted.