No Noël | ✓

16 » we're under the mistletoe

16 » we're under mistletoe

❅

"There is no fucking way in Hell that I am—"

"Noel DeJesus, what is wrong with you? How dare you reject the honor of being baby Jesus and mention that heinous place, not only in my house, but in the same sentence as you speak about Jesus!"

There was so much ridiculousness in that sentence that I didn't even know where to begin with my response. So I settled on just saying, "I'm not doing it!"

But that didn't work. As my mother continued whining about Christmas and Jesus, I got a stern look from Dad, disappointed looks from my grandparents—which wasn't new, and a laugh from my brother. I finally gave in when I saw how uncomfortable Avery looked throughout the whole confrontation.

I spent an hour sitting in the manger that was way too fucking small for my body. I was a man, a grown ass man. That manger should have broken under my weight.

Unfortunately it hadn't, and all that happened was my ass going numb after twenty minutes. By the time the hour was up, the songs my mother wanted to hear finished playing, and all their prayers were said, I was barely even able to stand.

My mother walked off happily, glad her tradition was kept. Dad promised to replace the baby Jesus later so that they could have the nativity properly set until Three Kings Day, but she was just happy the night of setting it up had been saved.

And Angel was all too giddy to take credit for it.

"You're an amazing baby Jesus," he smugly said as I passed by.

Once all the adults had wandered into the dining room to start dinner, I shoved Angel, forcing his body back and onto the couch. "Next time I'm grabbing that fucking manger and smashing you in the face with it."

Angel cackled from the couch, taking a sitting position. "Hey, bro, it's a compliment."

"That was a compliment?" I asked with squinted eyes, tempted to actually punch him.

"Yeah, you're the Messiah," he said with a grin. "Be happy. If someone told me to put on a toga and walk around with an arrow, I'd do it. You gotta be proud of when you were born, bro."

"That's total bullshit," I called him out. "How many times did you come home crying because people were calling you Cupid?"

"They called me stupid Cupid," Angel clarified, raising a finger. "The stupid part is what bothered me. If the ladies wanna see me as Cupid, that's fine."

His eyes flickered to Avery after, and then he stood, holding out a hand to her.

"We didn't properly meet, by the way," he said, smiling as she placed her hand in his. "My name is Angel."

"Avery," she said, shaking his hand and giving him a smile.

"I couldn't help overhearing when you two came in that you're strictly co-workers," Angel said as they dropped hands.

"Mhm." Avery hummed, glancing at me. "Apparently we're not even friends."

"You know I didn't—"