yesss!!! Maybe a Jonathan Byers Christmas fic where you spend the night on Christmas Eve and there's a dinner and there's fluff and cute widdle Will all excited for the morning. GAHHHH! XD
a/n: small little blurb with Jonathan Byers™
“Oh, Y/n! It’s so nice to have you here! Are you sure your parents are alright with you staying here?”
You nod happily. “Yes, they’re fine with it.”
Joyce put a hand over her heart. “I couldn’t let you stay at the house all by yourself, especially on Christmas! It’s no Bahamas Christmas cruise, but I think it’s better.”
You look around the cozy house. A Christmas tree is standing in the corner of the living room, glittering with tinsel and ornaments. There are piles of neatly folded pillows and blankets on the sofa and two air mattresses already blown up in the center of the living room. “This is definitely better than a Bahamas cruise,” you tell Joyce with a beam. You two giggle for a moment.
You realize just how young Joyce looks when she laughs.
“Jonathan and Will are in the kitchen making hot cocoa. You can take the sofa or a mattress, whatever you want. There’s pop in the fridge. You can help yourself to whatever you’d like.”
Joyce is intent on making you feel welcome. You suspect that she’s had a fair share of Christmases alone. She immediately offered her home to you when Jonathan relayed that your parents were going to be on a couple’s cruise until after New Years.
You set your bag filled with pajamas and decently wrapped gifts for the Byers on an air mattress. “Thank you a thousand times for letting me stay,” you say for the thousandth time over.
Joyce waved a hand. “It’s nothing. I’ll go tell the boys that you’re here.”
Jonathan emerged a moment later, sweeping you off your feet in his arms as he smiled like the happiest person on the planet. You squealed in surprise. “What was that for?”
“For you,” Jonathan said with a shrug. He pecked your lips shyly.
Will, following his brother into the living room, made a puking sound. “Gross. Take it somewhere else,” he teased.
Jonathan smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, while you put your hands on your hips. “Are you jealous that I’m not paying attention to my wittle Will Byers?” You reached out to pinch Will’s cheeks. He dodged your attempts furiously.
“What? Too old for me now?” You hold your head in your hands with mock sadness. “You’re growing up so fast!”
Will rolled his eyes. He jumped on the couch, cozying in happily.
Everyone integrated to the couch as well, talking and laughing, telling jokes, explaining their favorite bits about the holidays.
Jonathan had his hand on your thigh the entire time. His touch was innocent and calming; a touch of love, one that you returned by resting your hand atop his.
Will went on and on about how excited he was for the next morning. The clock ticked much too slow. “A watched pot never boils, you know,” you point out.
“What do you mean?”
“Y/n means,” Jonathan explained, “that if you keep focusing on how slow time is going by, it just makes you worse. If you relax and loosen up, Christmas morning will arrive much faster.”
Will contemplated these words of wisdom. He didn’t seem too pleased but allowed himself to relax anyways.
Joyce called you three into the kitchen some time later. The Christmas Eve dinner was simple. “I thought I would save the yummy stuff for tomorrow,” she explained. “Y/n, you like mashed potatoes? My boys can’t get enough of it. I figured I would make some for tomorrow’s dinner.”
You nod excitedly. “Mashed potatoes are delicious.” What you really meant by that is you could inhale three pounds of mashed potatoes in four minutes and still want seconds.
Over dinner, you noticed Will taking your advice. He seemed to forget all about waiting impatiently for Christmas morning to arrive.
Underneath the table, your feet gently knocked against Jonathan’s. You two grinned at each other around your forks like a couple of third grader’s trying not to get caught playing footsies.
At the end of the night, Will has fallen asleep at his place on the couch, surrounded by blankets. You and Jonathan pushed your air mattresses together.
“Merry Christmas, Y/n,” he says sleepily. You squeeze his hand lovingly. “Merry Christmas.”