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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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All I Want for Christmas is You

Summary:

I was in love with him. From the first time I saw him I knew I would marry him. Now I just had to convince him of that. 

Work Text:

I was in love with him. From the first time I saw him (on the train) I knew I would marry him. Unfortunately, after that fateful trip I didn't see him for another few years. I did try looking though. But with just a face, not even a first name, it's pretty hard to do. It didn't make it any easier that I was back-packing through Europe and I didn't know German. So I couldn't ask for help, or even say hi. Well, that's not true. I knew a few phrases, but I didn't think "can I have a beer?" or "where is the toilet?" would do anything to help me find my future spouse. I was only a kid at that time, I didn't have all the knowledge and know-how that I do now. I used basic words and sign language to get through most countries. So I finished my trip, and headed back home. No, I'm not telling you where home is, you might be some crazy stalker! What do you take me for?

So I got back to Germany, a few years later, and tried to track the man down. I was able to find out his name was Lukas, and he graduated from Furtwangen University, but there the trail went cold. He wasn't even German, he was Swiss! So off to Switzerland I went. At least this time I was armed with a name and a face.

I got myself a nice little house a quick train ride from Geneva and started my hunt. Not having any other information, I would just go into the city and wander around. In my few years in Europe I had gotten decidedly good with languages, so I didn't have too many problems. I spent a year walking around in the business section of the city without any sort of luck. There were times I really did want to give up, but I never did. Besides, I really liked Switzerland, so there was no reason for me to leave. I had even made a few friends here.

It was one of those friends who led to the breakthrough. They had been looking through one of my sketchpads, and came across the pictures I had drawn of the brief glance of Lukas I had gotten. They were bad - not nearly up to my normal level, but it had been done quickly and on that same train so I wouldn't forget any details. She looked at me strangely, and asked me how I knew her boss. I smiled and told her I didn't, but I'd like to. Unfortunately she's not one of my friends who can tell when I'm serious so I had to explain that yes, I did want to meet him.

A few weeks later she was going with some co-workers - including Lukas - for a few drinks and suggested I tag along. I stopped in the doorway, my heart beating like crazy. The man looked even better than he had four years ago, but he still looked far too serious. That handsome face would look even better smiling. I felt nervous, and a bit dizzy, but I told myself I had never had a problem approaching people before, so I could do this. In my usual manner, I went over to him, and calmly stated that I'd like him to be my boyfriend. His eyebrows shot up, and he was glancing at his friends questioningly. I realized my error - if the poor guy was straight, or if he hadn't told his co-workers he was gay, that might have been really awkward for him. Luckily, one of the other guys diffused the situation. He snickered, looking from me to Lukas.

"Damn Luke, if I swung that way I'd be pissed. You always get the cute ones throwing themselves at you, guys and girls." I would have been more annoyed that he claimed I was throwing myself at anyone if he hadn't said I was cute.

Lukas, or Luke apparently, just rolled his eyes. "Look, kid - " "Dylan" "Right, Dylan. I'm flattered and all, but I don't know you."

I just shrugged. "Yea, I don't know you either, but that's what dating's for. So what do you say?"

"Regardless of what my friend here says, I don't date men. Sorry."

Hah, yea right. He had looked, if very subtly, and the comment his friend made hadn't been a lie. Which probably meant he just didn't date. That was okay; I would be fine with being his friend for the time being. I certainly wouldn't sink to being a one night stand.

Once I had his face, full name, and work, the rest was a breeze. It turned out that Lukas, or Luke for short, worked for a large firm, lived in one of the better neighbourhoods, and while he had 'friends' they were more like acquaintances he knew from work. Thanks to Crysta, I had inside information for whenever he was going to go out, and would 'coincidentally' show up there. When that only led to short, terse conversations, I decided to 'surprise' him at home. I had learned from the friend who had made the comment that he was a workaholic, and had to be practically force fed, so I showed up at his door with takeaway. He was less than appreciative. The first night, he shut the door in my face. For the next few weeks he wouldn't even open the door. Finally, however, I guess he realized I wasn't giving up that easily and let me in. Really, you'd think I was trying to sell him something instead of bringing him dinner. Once we got over that hurdle though, it became easy. I would go over each night, get him to eat and try not to get kicked out on my ass as soon as the food was gone.

But slowly, our relationship progressed, and I thought I could never be happier than the first time he kissed me back after I had kissed him. It was coming up to our second Christmas together, and I wanted to make it special.

"So, what are we going to do for Christmas? What do you want?"

Lukas was sitting on the opposite couch, engrossed in his laptop, as usual. Without even looking up he answered. "You don't have to get me anything, really."

"Ah, but I have to get you something! Seriously, what kind of lo…person would I be if I didn't?" I stopped myself just in time, remembering Lukas' dislike of the term 'lover'. I personally thought it sounded better than 'boyfriend' but he wouldn't be swayed.

Apparently my save wasn't that great as he rolled his eyes at me. "There's nothing I need Dylan. Really, I can't even think of anything."

"Fine, fine. I'll think of something to get you on my own. I want a platypus."

That caused him to look away from his work, finally. "You want a...what?"

"A platypus."

"A platypus. Like one of those weird mammal/bird things?"

"Yup! They're awesome. I saw one in a zoo when I was a kid. It looked like it couldn't decide what it wanted to be, so it chose a bit of everything. And they're poisonous too – it's kind of like, ha, if you're going to laugh at me I'll make you regret it."

He was looking at me in his normal 'Dylan-is-insane' fashion, but at least he was looking at me and not at his damn computer. "You do realize they're wild animals, not pets, right?"

I shrugged. "Meh. Then let's skip gifts and just go out to eat."

"Sure, whatever you want."

We lapsed into silence at that point, as I knew once he got to that point I had become background noise. I made him a quick dinner, and sat it in front of him. Lukas does have a dining room, but I think it's been used once in the years I've known him. He ate mechanically, and I knew as usual he wasn't even tasting it. After dinner I curled up next to him and watched TV until he was done working. I used to plan out schemes to get him to stop working so much, but they never worked and after a few backfired on me I gave up on that and just enjoyed being around him. Finally the laptop went away and I could get his full attention - just in time to go to bed. At least now I wasn't shoved out of the room, so I could follow him in and snuggle next to him. He seemed to be in a better mood as I felt his arm wrap around me. I fell asleep, already thinking of plans for Christmas.

It had been a long few weeks, with plenty of preparations to do for our Christmas dinner. But this was it. I had the entire thing worked out. I would…disable Lukas' car, as he tended to 'get lost' if we took separate cars. Really, it was pointless of him to try to spare my feelings like that, if he didn't like what we had planned he could just tell me. But this he wasn't getting out of for any reason. The restaurant had reserved a private room for us, not a small feat on Christmas Eve, and there would be a bottle of pink champagne waiting for us (he liked it, but was far too 'manly' to admit it). And most importantly, I had the ring safely in my pocket. He may say that I have a tendency to lose things, but when they're important I don't. I thought it was beautiful; I'd spent ages picking out the right one. It was a fairly simple band - platinum with a strip of gold running through the middle, with a large, but not overly gaudy diamond surrounded by smaller stones above and below. I thought it would suit him wonderfully – elegant without being overdone. I was trying to keep my excitement to a minimum as I pulled into his driveway. I didn't want to give anything away.

I quickly exited my own car, immobilized his own, and headed up to the door. He was already dressed, very nicely, I might add, and looked ready to go. "You didn't forget!" He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. Finally, he heaved a sigh and said, "No, Dylan, I didn't forget." I gave him a quick peck on the lips, and started back to my car. A sound that wavered between a shriek and a groan sounded behind me, and I knew Lukas had seen his car. "You…did you put seven pounds of birdseed on my car?"

I looked at him, and at the car, and then back at him. "Lukas! Of course I didn't. I put sand on your car. Why would I waste money on birdseed when sand's much cheaper?"

Lukas, in turn, just stared dumbfounded at his buried vehicle. Okay, in hindsight, I probably should have just let the air out of a tire or something, but knowing Luke he would have an air pump all ready to go. So sue me for thinking outside of the box. I wasn't about to tell him it actually was birdseed. I happened to be in a pet store at the time. Plus I wasn't sure where to even get sand and birdseed would be a lot easier to clean up. I did, after all, intend to clean up my own mess. He was wrong about how much though – it was more like twelve pounds. I had to guess – I've never tried to bury a car before. So I just bought out what they had in the store.

The brunet pulled out his phone, still eying his car. "Hey, yea, dad, it's me. No…no…I'm going somewhere with Dylan. He's not my…never mind. Just tell everyone I'm sorry I couldn't make it? I…guess I could. Happy Christmas to you too. Oh! Do you think you could have someone come out to clean my car? Don't ask. Alright, bye." He flipped the phone closed and headed towards my car. "So, where are we going?" I just grinned, unwilling to ruin my surprise. And he was surprised; I had booked one of the most upscale restaurants in the area, and someplace I had noticed Lukas eyeing once or twice, but knew he would never spring for. The waiters were good, if a bit snobbish, and the food was well worth the price, surprisingly.

Finally, dinner was over. Lukas was looking at me strangely, but that made sense as we rarely had dinners like this. Okay, make that this was the first time. I was fiddling with the ring box in my pocket, more nervous than when I had first talked to him. But I braced myself, pulled out the box, took a deep breath, and asked the question I had been waiting to ask for seven years. "Lukas – will you marry me?"

The expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. He opened his mouth to say something but I stopped him before I could say anything. Without another word, I stood up, grabbed enough out of my wallet to pay for dinner, and headed out of the restaurant. Luckily I had been planning on a quick exit – I just thought it would be because we were leaving for celebratory sex. Unfortunately, I had forgotten the small fact that I had driven Lukas here, so we had to endure a tense, silent ride back to his house. The car was still covered – apparently Lukas' family hadn't found anyone willing to come out on Christmas Eve. We sat for a minute, still silent, before Lukas reached for the handle. "Dylan...I just...you never listen. I told you when we first met that I didn't want to date you. I've been telling you that for two years. This whole – mess – is my fault. I should have made it clearer to you; I definitely shouldn't have started sleeping with you. You won't take no for an answer...but this time. This time please do." He opened his mouth to say something else – I really, really hope it wasn't going to be 'I'm sorry', but apparently he thought better of it, got out of the car and disappeared inside his house.

He was right – he had said he didn't want to date me. But we had been dating. I don't know what else it's called when two people spend most of their time together, have sex, and go out on what anyone else would term dates. But apparently this entire time he had just been humouring me. It hurt. It hurt a lot. I drove back home, just to go back a bit later, determined to at least clean up the mess I had made of his car. The ring I had lost – probably left at the restaurant – and I hoped whoever found it had better luck than I did with it. I certainly didn't want to see it again, and I had it specially made so I wouldn't have been able to return it even if it hadn't been lost. The couple of gifts I had gotten him I left in his car – I didn't know what he'd do with them, but they were still his.

I spent most of Christmas day drunk – hell, who am I kidding, I spent most of the next week drunk. The friends I had made here were stunned to see me looking so sad – and as one particularly tactless girl said – not acting like a hyperactive child.

So, my friend, that is why I'm sitting alone in a bar on New Year's Eve. Aren't you glad you asked?


I sat staring at my niece and nephew playing with their new toys. They were hyped up on sugar and screaming like maniacs, but they were both smiling. They kind of resembled my not-ex-boyfriend. I really felt like a shit about what happened on Christmas Eve. I just didn't realize he was that serious. Dylan never seemed serious about anything. He had bounced his way into my life, and casually announced that we were going to date. Honestly, I thought it was either a cheesy pickup line or he had mixed up his words since his first language is English, but he had been absolutely serious about it. He just hadn't seemed it.

Looking back, that seemed to be the norm for most things about Dylan. He would say things with a smile, he would joke, but when it came to important things, he was always serious, whether it sounded like it or not. After our first meeting he had stalked me – there's really no other word for it – for a few months, showing up as I was getting off of work or even at my house. I have to say, it was actually rather scary how he could find me no matter where I went.

Of course, this meant he wasn't finding me this past week for a reason. Since I had caved, nearly two years ago, we had barely gone a day without seeing each other, and certainly not more than two. He would show up at my door, I'd let him in (if he hadn't found a way in already), and he'd just hang around until I got fed up and convinced him to leave. Or, as was more and more common as time went on, he just stayed over.

I had really never intended for it to get to the point of sex. But when he stayed over, even though I do have a guest room and a guest bed, he would somehow still find his way into my bed by morning. The first few times I freaked out on him even knocked him out of the bed once or twice with my flailing. He wasn't the first male I had sex with, but he was the first I had slept with, and waking up with certain...reminders of his gender gives me a valid reason, I think. Once that stopped, and I had more or less grown used to waking up with him wrapped around me, he got more confident. Then the groping and kissing started. He would give me a quick kiss when he arrived, a quick kiss when he woke up, and another when he left. Groping was whenever he saw an opportune moment. After several weeks of this, I just couldn't take it anymore. Especially considering I hadn't been able to get laid since before I met him. Dylan was very good at running off anyone who showed even a passing interest in me. So one time, instead of pushing him away, I kissed back and pulled him closer.

Even after sex became a regular occurrence, I still never considered us to be dating. He just became a fixture in my life. I'm still trying to figure out when I stopped trying to discourage him. Because now...now I miss him. I miss his randomness, I miss his cheerfulness, I miss having someone next to me, and greeting me when I get home. Okay, some things I don't miss, like the one time I came home to find him hosting a rave in my house. But for whatever reason, the cheerful way he just dragged me into it was endearing. And to be honest, he did clean everything up the next day.

The worst part is that I have no idea how to find him. Yea, two years, and I never got his number or his address. There was no need – he would just show up. I tried finding him with just a name, but he's apparently unlisted. I couldn't even go to his work – the entire time I had known him, he had never once mentioned work or what he did. The last week had brought home to me just how little I actually knew about Dylan. I knew his name, his likes and dislikes, how old he was, that he was American, but nothing else. I had never asked him questions – he would offer information freely. Just nothing that was useful to me now.

I pulled the ring out of my pocket. It really was gorgeous – it was exactly the type of thing I would pick for myself. Dylan really was an amazing boyfriend. I had seen the box abandoned on the table in the restaurant, and I couldn't leave it there. Even if I had been sure of my answer at the time, I just couldn't do it. Unfortunately my mother noticed me fiddling with it and came over to investigate. She was already annoyed I hadn't brought Dylan for Christmas dinner. Sometimes I think my family likes him more than me.

"What a gorgeous ring! Where on earth did you get that honey?"

I considered lying for half a second, but realized that wasn't going to work with her. I haven't been able to lie to her since I started talking. "Dylan got it for me. " Just because I couldn't lie doesn't mean I need to tell her the whole story.

"Really? That looks like an engagement ring. You wouldn't get engaged and not tell us right? Luke, dear, this is from the best jeweler in Geneva! Do you have any idea how expensive these are? You have to wait forever to get one these, and they're all originals."

Just like that, I knew how I'd find him. I got all of the information from my mother, with the promise of explaining everything to her afterwards. The jeweler was closed on New Year's Day, but January 2nd had me in his store.

It was a pretty horrible experience. He was obviously not impressed by me; I had shown him the ring, and he had been thrilled with the work and the buyer. Then I had to ask for Dylan's address and his regard for me plummeted. But he still gave me the information.

I was armed with an address now, but I had to do this right. He had given – or tried to give – me a wonderful evening. For as immature as he acted sometimes, he was truly a good man. So, I went to a florist and got the most eclectic bunch of flowers I could – no roses – and ordered his gift for him off the internet. I would wear the ring, and hope for the best. I was all set a few days later and headed over with my heart doing flip flops.

When he opened the door it made me feel even worse than I already did. He was quiet, unlike the bubbly, cheerful man I knew. It was also obvious that he had either been crying or drinking or both. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and it looked like he hadn't slept in a week. I almost felt like crying when I saw his eyes light up for a second when he saw me, and then dim again.

"Yea? Look, I fixed your car. If it caused any real damage I'll pay for it. "

My car? What was he going on about? I took a deep breath and handed him the bouquet and his gift – the biggest stuffed platypus I could find.

He looked at the gifts, and then at me, confusion all over his face. "Luke?"

"I'm sorry. I still don't know when you did it, but you grew on me; to the point where I was miserable this last week. I don't deserve it, but do you think you could take me back?"

Seconds later I had an armful of sobbing Dylan. The flowers were abandoned somewhere on his front porch and the stuffed animal was squished in between us. I held him as tightly as I could, realizing how right it felt with the smaller man tucked under my chin. Once the sobs tapered off, he looked up at me, and the smile I loved was back on his face. It made me smile back, and I couldn't help kissing him. He broke it off suddenly, and grabbed my hand from where it had snuck behind his neck. He looked at the ring, and then up at me, "does this mean what I think it means?"

"You left it at the table. I should have given you the right answer that night. Yes, Dylan, I would love to marry you."

The waterworks started up again, and I maneuvered him into his house. It was the first time I had seen it, and it definitely fit Dylan's personality. I knew he liked to travel, and it showed in the decor. Since he was my fiancé now, I figured I had a right to ask about his work. "Dylan – what exactly is it you do? It's never come up before."

He looked startled by the question, and I was almost ready to hear that it was something like a thief or a prostitute or something else illegal. "Oh, everything really. I started out doing a 'poor man's' tour guide book, which is why I'm in Europe in the first place, but I also write, do some internal decorating, some website decorating, anything that catches my attention."

I whistled appreciatively. "Being a jack of all trades pays pretty well. " He just shrugged and looked uncomfortable. I probably should have realized it, but his easy going exterior obviously hid deeper issues. Without a second thought I pulled him into a hug. It was amazing how easy affection came to me when I let myself relax around Dylan.

"I'll tell you, but only if you promise you won't look at me differently."

I nodded, "I promise I'll do my best to not look at you differently. I'll still love you regardless." Even if it wasn't the exact words, it seemed to be good enough for him. "I grew up in a rich family in California. They had always been disappointed in me, but I was supposed to be the heir, so they tried to force me into their 'good son' mold. At sixteen he sent me to the hospital, and I snuck out from there any didn't go back. I spent the next few years wandering around the States, doing random jobs like I do now, just a lot worse paying, and then a year before I moved to Europe my father kicked the bucket. Apparently his 'appearance' wouldn't have allowed them to admit I had run away from home because my father was an abusive asshole, so I was still listed in the will. I used part of it to get over here, but the rest went to charities. I guess because how my parents thought that money was everything, and my father worked himself to the grave I just didn't want to even touch that much money. The jobs I do get me enough to live comfortably and buy what I want, and that's all I need."

I sat a minute, absorbing everything he had told me. I can see why he wouldn't want to tell me - he wouldn't want to see pity. It also explained a lot more - how he loved how close and casual my family is and how much he hated me working at home. My family always claimed I must have been switched at birth; I was always immersed in my work. Perhaps I had been switched with Dylan? Either way, I knew it would have to change. I tilted his chin up and kissed him, trying to convey without words how amazing I thought he was. When we broke off, I noticed tears in his eyes again. I guess my confusion showed on my face. "That's the first time you've ever kissed me." I tried to deny it, but thinking on it, I couldn't remember a single time I had ever initiated anything. I kissed him again, this one far more heated.

"I've been an absolute shit boyfriend. But I promise I'll do my best to be a great husband."

Later that night (much later that night), he sat down and told me the whole story of how he had seen me on a train on a backpacking trip across Europe. It was amazing and a bit humbling to think he'd gone through all that effort just to find me. I suppose I should have been disturbed that my stalker was about to become my spouse, but right now I was too happy to care about 'should haves'.


So, I hope you all enjoyed this! And I hope you all have better holidays than Lukas and Dylan! Just some fyi's - Furtwangen is a real uni in Germany. I swear. Google it if you don't believe me. The ring, if you want to see it is based off of
http://engagementrings.lovetoknow.com/wiki/Image:

If you're curious, the requester asked for :

1) Use of sign language

2) A platypus (real or otherwise)

3) A perfect romantic moment that turns incredibly awkward

4) "Did you put seven pounds of birdseed on my car?"

5) A spontaneous rave

6) The colour pink

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, etc :)

~Divanora