Victor had rolled his eyes for the hundredth time a certain afternoon. He didn’t see the point of decorating the apartment for Christmas when he wasn’t even Christian and when you wouldn’t spend the holidays there.
He remembered crossing the living room to enter the kitchen, the sound of your humming making him wonder why had he agreed to live with you in the first place. Contrary to everyone’s belief, you two were just friends. He tolerated you the best, though, his spectrum normally went from you being the easiest person to deal with to Reed being an utter pain in the ass, Tony fell in the perfect middle.
He had heard that stupid carol you were humming so often lately that he had it stuck in his head when you weren’t around. In retrospective, it was the least annoying of the carols and he should be thankful that you weren’t obsessed with the same Christmas songs Stark was. Tony’s taste in music sucked in general, but not even Steve could put up with his weird Christmas themed tastes.
Snatching an apple from the basket, he had leaned onto the counter to watch you from afar. Your chubby form stretched to hang ornaments on the tree was amusing, he had offered to pay someone to do it but you told him that wasn’t the point. He didn’t care for the point, or for holidays in general, the only reason he hadn’t fought you on the topic of ornaments around the house was that he was trying to be nicer and he knew he had to start at home.
Home, he had never had one. Not until you two started working at the same company and bonded over your hatred of overly sweet desserts at a work party. None of you were happy with the place you were living in but it was what you could afford at the time, upon touching the subject you had the idea of being flatmates. Victor had been skeptical at first, but the idea became less annoying when you offered to make a list of pros and cons.
Now the apartment didn’t feel like home, the Christmas tree was adorned perfectly— he even admitted it looked pretty. The gifts you bought him were around it, yet he found himself preferring for you to have been there. He would trade all the gifts of the world for you. You, the person who not once had ever judged him or considered him weird.
Flipping on the tv channels, he groaned every time something Christmas themed appeared which was too often. He was starting to regret telling Tony he would be busy or telling you he was sure he didn’t want to go with you to visit your family. Victor switched the cable programming for Netflix and distracted himself by searching for something to watch, not by watching it because he was indecisive.
Taking his phone, he started typing. His thumb hovered over the send button before deciding that there was deciding wrong with what he was saying.
❆・・・・・❆・・・・・❆・・・・・❆
You were listening to your mom complain about everything you hadn’t accomplished in life when your cellphone buzzed in your coat pocket. Withdrawing it, you felt your stomach churn for some reason.
Do you have a recommendation for a NON-CHRISTMAS movie on Netflix?
Just re-watch The Office like any normal human being.
Locking the device, you turned your physical attention back to your mom and dad although your mental one was far away. It was back at home, where Victor was probably sprawled on the couch wearing that soft-looking sweatshirt that made him look so damn approachable with a scowl on his face because he didn’t find anything worth his time on Netflix.
The first time you watched a movie with him had been somehow the best and worst experience of your life, he complained about everything and had stupidly high standards. He did that in general too, but you weren’t too different— however, you loved crappy movies.
Another notification broke through your phone. You found yourself eagerly unlocking it to reply.
Are you calling me average?
You chuckled. The truth was you could call Victor many things, average would never be one.
That’s exactly what I’m calling you.
The three dots signaling he was already typing an answer appeared immediately on your screen, making you miss him even more.
You really missed him, how interesting he was, how respectful of your boundaries. Victor had given you in six months the respect your family hadn’t in your entire life, he was supportive in his own way, he hadn’t once made a crude comment about your weight or judged your body type, he listened to you when you needed him, and if he couldn’t help you he would tell you so openly and honestly
“(y/n), are you listening to me?”
You shook your head at your mom’s question without even thinking.
“You never listen to me, that’s why—“ your mom sighed when your phone dinged again. “Tell whoever is interrupting your quality family time to quit it or I will throw that phone through the window.”
Would Lightning McQueen buy car insurance or life insurance?
You pursed your lips to keep yourself from cackling.
Who are you and what have you done with Victor Von Doom? Also, are you watching Cars?
Perhaps.
You tried to imagine him watching Cars, the annoyed sighs that would leave his lips every few seconds, the smartass comments he would make regarding how the world in the movie functioned... it would be funny, and way better than seeing your family glare at you like you had done something wrong.
You had arrived three days ago and the entire time they had thrown every critique that came to their minds at you. They found the fact that you didn’t have a partner insulting, constantly comparing the lives of other family members to yours; they hated your line of work, they explicitly told you you should lose weight and insinuated you would finally be happy that way.
But you were happy. When you were not around them.
❆・・・・・❆・・・・・❆・・・・・❆
Unceasing knocking woke Victor up, his neck was rigid and his lower back hurt like a bitch. The TV had turned itself off, he didn’t know what time was it and he didn’t care because the knocking was getting louder.
Fixing his hair as he walked toward the door he fiddled with the lock so whoever was knocking would stop. As he swung the entrance open, he couldn’t hide his shock.
“What are you doing here?”
You tilted your head sideways, “I live here?”
He rolled his eyes, moving to the side so you would get inside. You didn’t bother to carry your belongings to your room, not yet. Victor repeated his question.
“I didn’t feel comfortable.”
He hummed, entering the kitchen to put the kettle on. From there, he spoke some more. “So what will you do on Christmas Eve?”
You followed him, leaning on the wall to watch him. His movements usually calmed you in a very weird way. “Annoy you, I think.”
With his hands flat on the counter, he craned his neck to look at you. “How are you going to annoy me? That’s pretty vague.” There was a hint of teasing in his voice, something he reserved for you, he trusted you that much.
You annoyed him with icing cookies and Christmas carols, you made him watch The Grinch and laughed when he agreed with him, you kept the tree lit up the entire day, and you actually made his favorite dish for dinner to not be an asshole. You wanted him to enjoy himself that day too, to find the holidays at least tolerable no matter the type of holiday it was. You knew he never had something similar and it broke your heart.
Putting two glasses of eggnog down onto the coffee table, you sat down on your favorite side of the couch. Victor glared at you, dying to get rid of the ugly sweater you had bought just for him. He had said it was a waste of money, but you saw him hide his laugh.
You were watching Nightmare Before Christmas, Victor insisted it was a Christmas movie and who were you to argue with that? His eyes would shift from the screen to your side profile, catching the twitches on your face when a scene you enjoyed was playing.
There were things he liked too much about you, details he observed in you that he didn’t care for in anyone else. He was unsure about you thinking the same of him, Tony being his helpful self told him a few weeks ago to simply tell you— yet it was far from simple.
He wasn’t being self-deprecating, and he knew he was attractive so he wasn’t scared of rejection because of any type of insecurity and more because you two were flatmates, close friends— was ruining that worth it? Hearing you sing Kidnap The Sandy Claws under your breath, he told himself it was more prone to be worth it.
Victor paused the movie, to hell with subtlety. “Hey!” you complained, glaring at him, “you chose the movie, remember?”
He nodded, “you don’t annoy me, you know?”
“Thanks?” you laughed at the, oh so funnily ironic, annoyance clear in his face. “You don’t annoy me either, Victor.”
He considered the possibility of you playing with him to not acknowledge the meaning of what he had said then immediately discarded it when you continued to gaze at him. “I like you, (y/n).”
“Did Tony pay you to be this emotional or is— oh!” You felt like an idiot for undermining the meaning of his comment at first, it wasn’t until you opened your mouth that you saw the shift in his eyes while waiting to see your reaction.
Oh, wow, now you needed to say something before he thought you were rejecting him. Had you even understood him clearly? Did he mean it as a friend? He had never told you he liked you before! Victor didn’t like people, he either tolerated or despised them— it was one of the things you found so interesting about him.
“When you say like, do you mean it as in ‘I don’t want to kill you in your sleep’ or ‘I would literally kill for you’?“ you half-joked to not embarrass yourself in case he didn’t mean it past something platonic. “Those two are kind of two opposites of the liking spectrum so you should probably consider it, maybe?”
Victor exhaled heavily. “Both, honestly.”
Mouth bobbing open and closed, you fully faced him. “You don’t sound convinced...”
“You’re a little annoying, actually, and doing that thing that everyone finds funny but for some reason I find attractive.”
“Ask a question?”
“Talk too much.” You pursed your lips, nodding. He got closer to you on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. “This is when you tell me you like me back.”
Nodding again, you got closer to him to narrow the space still existing between his and your thighs. “I like you too, and you’re a little annoying too.”
He hummed, the tip of his tongue coming out to lubricate his lips. “I should’ve let you buy that mistletoe, shouldn’t I?”
You giggled, taking him by the neck to place your lips on top of his. Victor reacted quickly, twisting his body to hug you by the middle as the kiss continued. He was so warm, his familiar smell hitting your nostrils as it mixed with the cinnamon-apple air freshener you sprayed earlier actually warming you in the inside. Soft sighs escaped you both, oxygen getting more needed as the seconds passed. You need to breathe properly as much as you wanted to continue kissing him— realizing that, he pulled away enough for you both to catch your breaths.
His hand skimmed the right side of your torso, the other still placed on your back. The way he was looking at you felt more intimate than anything else you had shared with someone before him, maybe because he wasn’t too touchy-feely or maybe because you liked him too much to not appreciate it. He granted you a smile, so charming and so rare, making you smile back. Victor sighed, the warmth of his breath hitting your face, he truly felt home now, peacefully so.
You kissed his nose, one of your hands moving up to play with his soft hair. “Do you still hate the holidays?”
He snorted. Home or not, the holidays weren’t his cup of tea. “Yes.”