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NSFW
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The snow outside fell in slow, deliberate swirls, thickening the layer of white across the city. The world beyond the window was muffled, softened, like everything had been wrapped in cotton. But inside, the air was warm, scented with cinnamon, sugar, and the faint, lingering spice of Cillian's cologne.

Auden awoke beneath the weight of his soft gray duvet, her body cocooned in the lingering warmth of where Cillian had been beside her. She stretched lazily, the scent of breakfast pulling her from the tangle of sheets. It was sweet — vanilla, maybe a hint of nutmeg — melting into the warmth of fresh coffee that he made just for her.

She smiled, her chest filling with something light, something golden, as she threw off the covers and padded barefoot to the kitchen.

Cillian stood at the stove, shirtless, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. The muscles in his back flexed with each movement, and for a moment, she just watched him. The golden light of the morning slipped through the kitchen window, dusting his skin in a glow that made him seem almost unreal.

She slipped behind him, arms wrapping around his waist, pressing her cheek against his warm skin. "Merry Christmas," she murmured.

His lips curved into a smile. "Happy Christmas," he replied, pouring more batter onto the skillet. "Are you hungry?"
She hummed, trailing her hand down his stomach. "Maybe a little."

Cillian clicked his tongue, but before he could scold her, she slid her hand lower. His breath caught, his fingers tightening around the spatula.

"Auden—" His voice was thick, his body leaning slightly forward against the counter.

She grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "Do you want me?" she whispered, even though she already knew the answer.

The gas burner clicked off. Cillian turned abruptly, catching her off guard, and before she could react, he lifted her into his arms, tossing her effortlessly over his shoulder. She squealed, laughing as he carried her back to the bedroom.
Cillian tossed her softly on the bed, causing Auden to bounce on the mattress. She giggled as Cillian jumped on top of her, his lips coming down on hers. He tasted sugary from his morning tea, causing Auden to nip at his bottom lip. He chuckled, pulling away.

"I have something for you," he murmured.

Auden's brows furrowed as she sat up. "Right now?"

He smirked, one hand reaching for the nightstand. "Yes. Can you restrain yourself for a moment?"

She narrowed her eyes playfully as he pulled out a small, red velvet box. The sight of it made her heart stutter.
Cillian handed it to her, his smile tinged with something sheepish. "Sorry it's not wrapped."

She pushed herself into a sitting position, Cillian allowing himself to straighten with her. Auden's fingers traced the cool fabric before she carefully pried the box open. Inside, nestled in a bed of satin, was a silver chain encrusted with tiny diamonds, so delicate it seemed to shimmer with every movement.

Her breath hitched. "Holy shit."

Cillian chuckled. "Do you like it?"

She could only nod, her fingers hovering over the chain like she was afraid to touch it.

"It's white gold," he said. "Eighteen karats."

Auden swallowed. "How much was this?"

He waved off her question. "Try it on."

She hesitated. "What if I break it?"

Cillian laughed, tugging at her waist to turn her around and pulling her into his lap. "You won't."

Auden gathered her hair high. His fingers brushed against the nape of her neck as he fastened the clasp, the cold metal sending a shiver down her spine, not before placing a soft kiss at the base of her neck.  She shivered as she quickly scrambled off the bed, moving to look in the mirror. The diamonds caught the soft morning light, casting a glow along her collarbone.

She reached up, touching the chain lightly. "I don't know what to say," she whispered. "Thank you."

Cillian came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his chin atop her head. His reflection caught her gaze in the mirror, his blue eyes tracing over her face, her throat, the way the necklace rested against her skin.
He was looking at her like she was something rare, something fragile. And for a moment, she almost believed it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of warmth and laughter. They cooked together, stealing kisses between chopping vegetables and stirring sauces. After dinner, they packed up the leftovers and took them to a local shelter, watching as grateful hands reached for warm plates. Auden's heart swelled. Her father would have done the same.

Later, when Charlie arrived, the house filled with his excited chatter, his boundless energy lighting up the room. Cillian knelt beside him, feigning surprise at the presents under the tree.

"I think Santy left a few things here for you," he said, eyes twinkling.

Charlie's face lit up in utter disbelief before he dove into the pile of gifts, tearing through wrapping paper with gleeful abandon. When he reached Auden's gift, she held her breath.

"Mario!" he shrieked, holding up the game to show off Smash Bros.

Auden grinned, leaning closer. "In this one, we have to fight each other."

Charlie's wide eyes met hers. "That's awesome."

Cillian shot her a look — something soft, something deeply affectionate — and warmth spread through her chest.

They spent the evening playing, passing the controller back and forth, Charlie bouncing between them. But eventually, the sugar crash hit hard, and he collapsed onto the floor, fast asleep.

Cillian carried him to bed, tucking the blankets around his small frame, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead.
When he returned, he poured Auden a glass of wine and sank onto the couch beside her. The Christmas tree lights glowed softly, flickering against the darkened windows.
Auden turned to him, but something in his expression made her pause. His face was distant, his eyes fixed on the tree, unfocused.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Cillian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I keep thinking about Charlie," he admitted. "This was my first Christmas without him. The whole day, I mean. I'm used to waking up with him, seeing his face first thing."

Auden studied him, her chest tightening at the sadness in his voice. She knew the divorce was weighing on him, but this was different. It wasn't about Jenni — it was about Charlie. About losing time, about missing moments that wouldn't come back.

She reached for his face, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing his sharp cheekbone. "He was happy today," she said softly. "And you'll have more time with him tomorrow."

Cillian exhaled slowly, nodding, but the sadness in his eyes didn't disappear.

Auden hesitated before reaching under the couch, pulling out two red-wrapped packages. "I have something for you," she said, her voice bright, hoping to lift his mood.

Cillian raised an eyebrow. "How long have those been there?"

"A while." She grinned. "Now open them."

He carefully unwrapped the first box, peeling back the tape with frustrating precision. Auden rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on," she groaned.

He smirked before finally tearing the paper away. Inside was a vintage red record player.

Cillian's eyes widened. "Wow."

"It's from the '50s. Still plays."

He beamed, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "This is amazing."

"The next one," she urged.

The second package was smaller, a wooden box lined with blue velvet. Inside was a wood-burned portrait of him and Charlie — Charlie's face pressed against his, all baby teeth and laughter. It was from years ago, back when things were simpler for him. It was the same photo he kept framed and next to his bed on the nightstand.

Cillian was silent, his fingers trailing over the image.

"I commissioned it from one of the artists at the gallery to make it," Auden explained. "I thought you'd like it."

He swallowed, his throat working, before looking up at her. His blue eyes were glassy, filled with something raw, something she couldn't quite name.

He set the portrait aside and reached for her, pulling her against him. He didn't say anything. Just held her.

Auden curled into his warmth, letting the moment settle around them. The house was quiet, the snow still falling outside. Gently, she let her body fall back into the couch, with Cillian falling against her.

His body melted into the curve of hers as he rested his head on her collarbone. The events of the day began catching up to her, as exhaustion set in her bones. Cillian snuggled further into her, his palms gripping her waist tighter. She loved feeling the weight of him on top of her. It kept her grounded and present — it forced her to stay in the moment, drinking in his scent and the way his body molded so perfectly on top of her small frame. She gazed down at him, a small smile forming on her lips, though he would never know.

"Are you awake?" she asked him gently.

He gave a sleepy grunt, and she watched Cillian's head rise and fall with each gentle breath as her fingers moved in a hypnotic rhythm through his hair. She studied each strand, its softness shifting between black, chestnut and silver with each stroke.

Releasing a sigh, Auden's fingers trailed down the back of his skull and down the base of his neck slowly. Goosebumps scattered themselves over his flesh, but he didn't stir against the sensation. He had definitely fallen asleep. As her hand slipped under the collar of his shirt, she followed the dip between his shoulder blades, outlining each ridge of his spine before traveling back up and starting again.

Her lids were growing heavy. The house was so quiet that Auden swore she could hear Charlie's soft snores from two rooms away. Everyone was at peace, and the house's cozy aesthetic only exacerbated the serenity of the evening. She let her eyelids close, suddenly feeling the weightlessness of sleep grip the edges of her senses.

"Are you awake?" lulled a raspy voice in her ear.

Auden jerked, her lids flying open to find her vision disoriented and blurry. She blinked, before rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. Slowly, Cillian's face came into view, his features sharpening to reveal a small, amused smile as he gazed down at her.

Cillian was no longer laying on top of her chest, rather he had managed to prop himself up, so he was hovering over her. His hair was a mess, sticking out wildly in all directions and causing Auden to giggle.

"Not anymore," Auden replied, reaching up to smooth his hair, "Though, to be fair, you did fall asleep first."

"I couldn't help it," he sighed, his head dipping down to kiss her neck, "You're just so comfortable."

His lips tickled against the crook of her neck, sending shock through her spine and down through her shoulders. Instinctively, she rolled her head to the side, welcoming his touch, only to feel his teeth graze the sweet, sensitive spot between her ear and jawline. Auden squirmed gently, but Cillian was quick to push his knees tighter against her hips to keep her trapped.

"Cillian," Auden warned, "We can't."

"And why not?" he asked, kissing the base of her throat.

"Because," Auden breathed, suddenly sounding out of breath, "You can literally hear everything in this damn house."

"What's your point?" Cillian murmured, but he kept going, his lips traveling down to her collarbone.

He moved the fabric of her shirt, placing small kisses along the bone and leaving fire in their wake. She was in nothing but a simple tee and long, flowy skirt, but her skin began to boil beneath its constraints.

She felt his hand slide down her waist, before he hiked up her skirt and slipped it between her thighs with ease. Auden let out an uncontrolled moan as his fingers grazed the fabric of her underwear. Auden bucked her hips forward, begging for more contact but he pulled away. Cillian chuckled, his mouth vibrating against the top half of her chest plate. Heat pulsated between her legs as he toyed with the lining of her undergarments, but he never allowed his fingers to linger on her for more than a few seconds.

She realized then, that his mouth had stopped just above the divot of her left collarbone. His lips felt like velvet against her flesh as he pricked the skin's surface with a delicate suction. A pleasant pain followed, and she gasped lightly. Before she could say anything, Cillian released her and blew tenderly on the irritated area, but she was unable to focus on anything other than the cooling sensation of his breath against the inflamed mark.

Auden was feeling feverish, the base of her tailbone suddenly slick with budding sweat. After one last teasing stroke against her underwear, he pulled his hand out from under and his face returned above her. He smirked down at the splotched redness of her cheeks as it spread down her neck, before raising a knowing eyebrow, "You were saying?"

She cleared her throat loudly, shifting her weight against the cushions and hoisting herself upwards. Cillian sat up straight and when she was finally in a sitting position, Auden glanced down, pulling back the collar of her t-shirt to find a generous size, reddish splotch embedded into her skin.

"You gave me a hickey!" Auden stared at it in disbelief.

He looked down at it proudly before reaching out to touch it, his index finger outlining the haphazard shape of his love bite as if he were analyzing a piece of art, "It looks good, don't you think?"

"No," Auden said, swatting his hand away and it fell back to his side, "I have to work on Monday. I can't show up to the office with this."

He shrugged, "It'll go away. Just wear a turtleneck for the next few days."

She shot him an incredulous look, crossing her arms over her chest, "I hate turtlenecks. They make me itchy."

Cillian rolled his eyes playfully as his smirk grew deeper. He looked way too content with himself. "Stop pretending like you don't love it," he remarked before wrapping one arm around her back and pushing her closer towards his body. Her left leg came to rest across his thighs, while the other wrapped itself around his waist loosely, so she was half perched against his side. Cillian went in for a kiss, but, out of spite, her own hands came up, pressing into his chest as she leaned away from him.

"It's not happening," Auden shook her head, but she could tell that the spark of brilliance in Cillian's eyes meant that it had already begun. He loved this dance just as much as she did.

"Auden," Cillian hummed her name darkly, the two-syllables of her full name dripping off his tongue like thick, fresh honey, "Let me kiss you."

"No," Auden responded, though it was a half-assed objection, because her voice had quivered the second that she felt Cillian's other hand glide up the side of her calf. He massaged the muscles, working them tenderly in lazy circles.

"C'mon Aud," he pleaded, "It's Christmas.."

A hot, electric shiver ran down her spine as his left hand ran up the center of her back, pushing her even closer to him. She shook her head slowly, but her mind was begging him to keep going. He knew this, of course. It was so obvious in the way she relaxed effortlessly in his arms, and how weakly her palms, still against his chest, pushed him back. Cillian's eyes were encouraging, and he let his own palm travel farther, until he was holding the small of her neck. Gently, he attempted to tug her forward, but she held her ground. She could feel his breath on the tip of her nose when he sighed in a mischievous, frustrated sort of way.

"God, you're so stubborn," he mumbled before letting out a low chuckle. His other hand moved from her calf, and she felt the top muscle in her thigh twitch the moment the warmth of his fingers kneaded into her as if she were fresh dough. He was coaxing her slowly, priming her for her downfall and ensuring that he could cushion the blow.

She wanted him so bad — but Auden couldn't be the only one to fall to weakness. They were both well aware that they could simply take their clothes off and fuck and be done in five minutes. But what was the fun in that? Drawing it out took time and precision, each movement was intentional and demanded attention. It made it fun and exciting. She wanted him to see that she had the power to make him melt just as quickly.

As Auden kept her eyes locked on him, she slowly bent her leg, allowing her foot to drag over his lap before her toes pressed into the zipper on his pants. It was hard, the denim already pulsating with warmth which only enticed Auden to roll her foot back and forth against the material.

Cillian's breath hitched in his throat as a shade of crimson spilled over his cheeks. The grip on her neck became tighter, and his hand immediately fell from the top of her thigh to the area between her legs. She felt his thumb move in faint circles over her sweet spot, sending ripples of pleasure to flow up her abdomen enticing a sigh of relief to escape her lips. Her fingers tensed against his shirt as Auden put more pressure into the way she rubbed her foot over his jeans, and Cillian matched the speed of his own finger to mimic hers.

Auden wiggled her toes once more, before allowing her hands to fall from his chest and into his lap. Her fingers were shaking as she fumbled with the button, then the zipper but Auden hardly seemed to notice. Her mind was clouded by the way his thumb circled and danced over her, edging her closer to oblivion. They were no longer playing a game, rather, Auden's only wish was for him to join her in this agony of restrained ecstasy.

Auden's hand slipped into his unbuttoned pants, and she watched as his lids fell slightly over his dilated pupils. He let out a low, quiet moan, his breath shaky and uneven as his tongue slid across his bottom lip hungrily. It sent her into a frenzy, and before she could think about it, she hoisted her own hips forward in an effort to gain more contact with his fingers, but Cillian was too abrupt to pull his hand free with a small chuckle. He was teasing her on purpose.

"How rude," Auden joked lightly, before cocking her head to the side. In one swift movement, Auden removed her hand from his pants, only to hook both of her legs around his waist to swing her body around and onto his lap. Her skirt enveloped over their waists like a frilly blanket. Cillian laughed loudly at Auden's sudden overtake, causing her to cover his mouth.

She glared down at him, "We have to be quiet, or we'll wake up Charlie."

His eyes danced, and he mumbled something incoherently into her palm. With pursed lips, she removed it.

"I've convinced you then?" Cillian repeated in a teasing voice.

"Maybe," Auden lulled, pushing back his messy hair.

Cillian gripped her hips, before pulling her weight down into him. Out of habit, Auden began to rock against him, feeling the hot friction of his jeans against her underwear. She stifled a moan, and he smirked in triumph before pressing his lips against her ear.

"I want you," Cillian murmured, his accent was thick and heavy, rolling in fluffy, delicious clouds of desire, "Is that convincing enough for you?"

The words caused her whole body to shiver in response, the fever of his hands against her waist contrasting heavily against the hot air blasting from the fireplace. Those three words were all she could ever want from him.

She threaded her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck, only to pull his head back so she could kiss him. The sweet relief of finally kissing him caused Auden to liquefy — she pressed into him deeply, with so much force and energy that it was as if it had been years since she felt his lips. She made no effort to hide the fact that she was feeling desperate for him as she pawed at his shirt, almost whining when he broke free of their kiss to take it off.

Cillian was quick to slip her t-shirt over her head, before his fingers worked the clasp of her bra. His lips traveled to her jawline, pecking sweetly, until he reached her bare chest. Her head fell back as his tongue glided over one of her breasts and caused a whimper to escape before she could stop it.

"Shh," Cillian hushed her, only to antagonize her more by moving to the other one. She bit down on her bottom lip, her head snapping forward to look down at him. He was staring at her, gazing up with a look of awe and feverish lust.

"You're making it very difficult to be quiet," Auden said, her voice ragged and displaced.

Cillian let out a low chuckle against his cheeky smile, "I'm about to make it even harder."

His arms engulfed her, and she felt her body whirl to the side with ease. Now, she was back at square one, finding herself beneath him as he slid her underwear off. Neither of them believed there was enough time to take off her skirt — instead, he slid off his pants and his boxers before hiking the material around her waist.

His movements were urgent yet calculated. He, too, could not hold himself back much longer. But Auden didn't mind a bit, because all she could think about was the ray of pleasure that ripped through her body the moment he entered her.

His nails dug deep into the bottom of her thighs, pressing her legs back as far as they would go as he pumped into her slowly. He was going deeper with each stroke, savoring the way Auden felt and the reaction he was getting. Instinctively, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth dropped open to let out a choked moan. But before any sound could come out, he let go of one of her thighs and slid his thumb inside of her mouth.

Her tongue slid across the tip of his thumb, sucking on it harshly. He watched her, his pupils swallowing the color of his eyes, his lips parting in surprise at the hungry nature behind the small gesture. He reveled in it, the sight of her swollen lips wrapped perfectly around his knuckle. He couldn't look away from her, and Auden felt a tickle of pride as he slid another finger into her mouth. She bit back a smile, bucking her hips into his to match his pace, her stomach bubbling in self-indulgence at the idea that she was driving him crazy.

Cillian's focus glazed over, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of forehead and Auden's palms reached up to cup his face. She pulled him down, and he let go of her other thigh. With his thumb still in her mouth, Cillian pressed his sticky forehead against hers just as she wrapped her legs tight against his waist. There was little empty space between their bodies – the only thing that separated them was her skirt, now damp from the pooling of their shared heat.

He let out a quiet, restrained moan just as Auden's fingers dug into his shoulder blades. She pressed harder, the palms of her hands burning against his balmy bare skin.

"Fuck, Aud," Cillian whispered, almost painfully. He wanted to do so much more to her, but the couch was too small and anything more would be too loud. Cillian was holding back, but it only heightened every other sense. Each subtle touch inflamed their sensitive skin; every breath shot through their core; a single kiss tasted like a delicious, decadent dessert.

Auden felt like she was wrapped in a whirling storm cloud —  the fluffy, comforting nature of its base juxtaposing against the lightning that brewed beneath. Finally, Cillian removed his fingers from her mouth in order to slide his arm underneath her.

"I need more," Auden begged, arching her back slightly. He grunted in response and Cillian lifted her upwards, back into a sitting position. He was panting heavily, his cheeks bright red, his frustration growing towards the slow nature of it all.

They were beginning to realize that control wasn't going to be their strong suit  — both in and out of the bedroom.

"Relax," she purred, coaxing him to lay back into the couch cushion. Cillian eyed her through a half-lidded expression, his face full of wonderment towards her. His infatuation and passion for her always seemed to be on the forefront of his mind. And every time, she fell for it, over and over again.

She pushed back his mop of hair, letting her hands wander down his chest. She felt the rapid thumb of his heart against his ribcage and smiled. Beneath her, she felt his hips push forward, causing her to let out breathy gasp. He did it again, forcing Auden to start moving with his rhythm, lifting her hips up before coming back down. She straddled his waist tighter as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing hers.

"Tell me," he demanded to her quietly. She could feel each movement of his lips, the way his tongue clung to every word in his demand as if it was his only life support, "Tell me you're mine."

Auden picked up speed, allowing the couch cushions to propel her movement smoothly, almost effortlessly, "I am yours," she said gently, keeping her eyes locked on him as her arms wrapped around his neck.

Cillian's eyes closed tightly, his fingers digging into her hips, and she said it again. She could tell he was close, so she said it a fourth and final time, and as the words left her in a single breath, Cillian nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck as if he were trying to melt into her.

His  muscles tensed, and he shuddered violently and released the built-up tension that he had been holding. But even as his body relaxed, his grip on her never ceased — he was squeezing her so hard that Auden could hardly move, hardly breathe, for that matter. But she didn't care. She held him back, stroking the back of his head as they both calmed in one another's arms as their shared bliss shifted back to reality.

Auden wasn't sure how long they remained like this — the only indication of passing time was the crawling feeling of numbness in her legs and the soreness in her core. Neither of them had spoken, but all the words Cillian wanted to say were felt in the small, faint kisses he left on her neck and bare shoulder. She didn't want to let him go, but her body forced her to do otherwise. She planted one last kiss on the top of his head, before shimming off of his lap and back on the couch beside him.

This seemed to awaken him from his dazed, dreamlike state. He cleared his throat and reached behind him, grabbing the blanket that he kept on the back of the couch and wrapping it around both of them to shield their nakedness from the air in the living room. She snuggled closer into his side, letting her head rest on his shoulder as his arm wrapped itself around hers.

"Merry Christmas," Auden finally said, with a hint of humor behind her words.

Cillian laughed softly, "That was the best present I've ever received."

She giggled back, poking him in the stomach lightly, before growing quiet again.

"I meant it, you know," Auden reiterated, "I will always be yours."

"I know," he replied, turning his neck so that his nose buried itself into the top of his hair.

She nodded against him, letting the words settle between them, warm and unshakable. The night felt endless, like they were suspended in time — wrapped in each other, in the glow of the tree lights, in the peaceful hum of a house. The snowfall outside dusted the world in silence, and exhaustion tugged at them both, but neither moved. Neither wanted to let go.

Cillian's fingers traced absentmindedly over her arm, slow and soothing, and Auden fought the pull of sleep just a little longer. She wanted to remember this — the weight of him against her, the way he had looked at her when she said those words, the way he had begged her to say them again.
She wondered if she would even be able to say such things in the daylight, without the safety of shadows and shared breaths to cushion her vulnerability. But for now, she let herself sink into the warmth of him, let the quiet affirmation of his embrace speak for them both.

Somewhere in the house, Charlie stirred in his sleep, mumbling unintelligibly before settling again. Auden exhaled softly. She had never been the kind of person to believe in Christmas miracles, but as she lay curled against him, the embers of his confession still glowing between them, she thought — just maybe — this was the closest thing to one.

She turned her head slightly, pressing a featherlight kiss to his collarbone. His arms tightened around her, like he knew she was slipping away into sleep.

"Go to sleep, Aud," he murmured against her temple.
Auden allowed herself to give in, her body curling deeper into his warmth. As her breath evened out, Cillian stayed awake just a little longer, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, the peaceful expression on her face.

She loved him.

The thought alone sent something sharp and sweet straight to his heart. He tightened his grip on her, kissed the crown of her head, and finally let himself drift into sleep — wrapped in her, in this moment, in something that felt bigger than either of them.