#idk bout y'all but i just want to squeeze max in a big hug 🥺

[outoftheblue-if]

“I’ll let you sit on my knee.” for Max

You got it, anon! ✨

I wrote another long snippet for Max based on the “I thought you were going home for Christmas.” “Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”, but it turned out quite... sad (at least in the beginning), and I think I self-projected a little too much in that lol, so I tried for another one, hope this one is a little more delightful 🥰

The faint sounds of Christmas tunes drifts down from the speakers above you, mixing in with the lively chatter of the crowd around you as you stand in the middle of Harrods's Christmas store. You let your eyes take in the beautiful decorations and general splendour of your surroundings, while the delicious aromas of chocolate, pastry and cinnamon waft through the air, making your mouth water.

“Woah!”

Your own reverie is broken by Max’ enraptured gasp beside you, and when you peer at them, you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the incredulous, awestruck expression dawning on their face as their eyes flash about the store in an attempt to take in all the sights at once.

You can hardly blame them. You remember the first time you set foot inside Harrods at Christmas. You were only a child back then, but you distinctly recall how magnificent and magical everything had seemed through your youthful gaze. Taking it in now, the magical haze has lifted, but it’s still beautiful and splendid enough to take your breath away.

You squeeze Max’ hand that's intertwined with yours. “Do you like it?”

They turn to you, eyes wide with wonder. “Like it?” They squeak out. “I accepted a long time ago that I would likely never set foot in Heaven, and yet… here I am.” He makes a grand gesture to the surroundings, and you can’t help but laugh again.

You’re about to reply when Max interrupts your thoughts.

“What’s that?”

You follow his finger to the corner of the room where a long line of children queue up in front of a massive, golden chair occupied by a familiar, red-clothed man with long, white beard.

“That’s the department store Santa,” you explain, watching as one kid jumps down from Santa’s lap and run off, only for another to take his place. “You know... Where the kids can sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what they want for Christmas.”

A thousand questions flash across Max' eyes, but then their lips twitch as they wiggle their brows and lean into you conspiratorially. “Do you think he will allow me to sit on his knee?”

You snort, as you imagine the scene in your head. “Ah, I think you’re a little too old, buddy, sorry.”

Max pouts, but the sparkling mirth in their carnelian brown eyes is easy to spot. “But I should so like to tell him what I desire for Christmas.”

A wicked idea dawns on you, and you sneak in closer, hovering your lips close to their ear as you whisper sweetly: “I’ll let you sit on my knee.”

You watch in satisfaction how the shivers immediately spread from their neck down below their sweater, even as they turn to face you with a delighted grin on their face, glancing around as they clutch their chest dramatically. “$name, what a scandalous proposition,” they declare out loud, only to move in closer, grin widening on their face as their eyes dart down to your lips suggestively. “And will you grant me everything I want for Christmas?”

You can’t contain the amused grin on your face, though you mentally shake your head. Max is rarely flustered by flirting or suggestive innuendos, you know that. However, you know just the way to get them truly flushed.

Reaching out, you wrap your arms around their waist and snuggle closer, letting your face take on a more serious, sincere expression. You meet their gaze evenly, letting your eyes flicker over their features in open adoration. “I would give you anything you want, my love. Anything at all.” You squeeze their waist appreciatively as you place a small peck on their jaw. “Because I love you.”

Leaning back, you watch with a small thrill of victory how the smug confidence falls from their face, only to be replaced by tentative bashfulness as their eyes flicker down and to the side for a second, before they come back up to meet your gaze. The heat radiates from their form and their strong arms come up to return your embrace, careful, but secure.

Any trace of that cocksure attitude is lost as they search your face tentatively, an open vulnerability evident in their eyes. Their voice comes out shaky on a small breath. “Yeah?”

You hold their gaze assuredly. As much as you enjoy teasing the flirty assurance off their face, you’ve also made a note to be sincere and loving towards them as often as you can. The flirty jokes come easily to them — the confident swagger their trademark front, and it’s easy to get caught up in it. But you know what they really need is to be told, numerous times, whether explicitly or through actions, that you love them. That you love them, you accept them, and they are most welcome here in your warmth and in your heart.

So you confirm once again, nodding your head slowly, letting your love for them shine through your eyes as you squeeze their waist one more time, really bringing the message home. “Yeah.”

And you know they do read the sincerity in your tender gaze, because the next second they bring you flush against them in a crushing hug, hiding their face in the crook of your neck as they whisper a quiet “Thank you" solemnly and tenderly against your skin.

You can’t actually hear it over the buzz of chatter around you, but you know they do. Because they always do when you say those three little words. Like they’re equally overcome with amazed gratitude every single time; they can hardly believe their luck. And that’s precisely why you keep reminding them as often as you can. You can only hope that one day you’ll have said it enough, showed them enough, for them to believe it readily.

“I love you too,” they mutter but a moment later, letting out a contented sigh against your shoulder.

And as you hold them close, feeling the tight, desperate grasp of their arms around you, you know it’s true.

Thank you for the prompt, love! ✨🤎