"So," you paused, raising an eyebrow at Shawn as he seemed to look everywhere but at you, "what the hell was that?"

Shawn seemed to be avoiding you after everything had gone down with Karen. Of course, you played it cool for the time that she was there, but the second she was out the door you crossed your arms over your chest and turned to face him.

"That was my mom," he spoke wearily, bringing his right hand to the back of his neck. A nervous tick.

"Yeah, got that, captain," you stated with a shake of your head, "I mean, what the hell is she talking about? Christmas? Girlfriend?"

He groaned, tilting his head to the side. "Okay, look," finally, he met your gaze, "She saw the pictures of us at the market a little bit ago and called to ask what was up with," he paused, "everything."

"And?"

"And she was pressing and I told her we live together and she was so happy, quickly assuming I had this secret girlfriend I'd been seeing forever, apparently," he explained, "And she was ecstatic. Over the fucking moon. And I couldn't crush her."

"So you just let her think we're dating?" you raised your eyebrows, "And asked if I can come to fucking Christmas?!"

"She asked!" he motioned his hands outward as if that would get his point across, "And what? She's gonna find out I have a girlfriend," he made air quotes with his fingers, "and then I'm gonna deny you the invitation to Christmas?"

You remained silent, nodding once to prompt him to keep talking.

"No," he breathed, "the answer is no. So here we are, and you're coming to Christmas."

"Hmm," you breathed with a nod, chewing your lip. His face was straight as an arrow, and while you were sort of relieved, a part of you wished their conversation had gone a different way.

_________________________________

"Hey!" Shawn called from the couch as you burst through the door, returning from a morning run.

You tugged one headphone out, a Rihanna song blaring from the tiny speaker.

"Huh?"

"I said hey," he grinned, placing a hand on either side of him to lift his body off of the couch.

"Oh," you grinned, checking out his tight-fitting tee as he made his way over to you. "Hi."

"How was your run?" he asked with crossed arms, stopping in front of you. He leaned a bit to the side, craning his neck to get a look at your ass. He nodded in smug approval.

"Would y-, stop!" you giggled, taking a step back to lean against the kitchen counter. "It was good."

"Do youuuu," he leaned back on his heels like a hyper kid asking their mom to have a sleepover, "need help washing your hair?"

"I think I'm okay, thank you," you spoke, shooting him a look as you pulled a water bottle from the fridge. His hands were on your hips in an instant. "Shawn! I'm all sweaty!" you giggled as his lips ghosted over your damp neck, nose brushing your jaw.

"I could make you sweaty," he whispered, heat rushing to the apex of your thighs. Here we go again, you thought.

"Shawn," you choked, fighting the temptation, "I'm still sore from yesterday."

"Oh," he spoke in a chipper tone, stepping back and spinning you to face him. "I actually meant something else," he teased, noticing the flush in your cheeks. He did that on purpose. "We need a Christmas tree and I want to get a real one."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. But it's gonna be big and we've gotta get it up here, so it's kind of a two-person job. Might be tough."

"Ah," you nodded, pursing your lips. That little shit.

"When?" you asked, taking a few gulps from your water bottle.

"Was thinkin' today," he chewed his lower lip, "it's Sunday and it's almost December, so now's probably a good time."

"Okay," you nodded, unable to help but smile at the sight of his wide grin.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you giggled, swooning over how excited he was getting. "Do we have ornaments?"

"Some, yeah," Shawn spoke, "but they're pretty generic. I was thinking we could stop at Pier 1 or Homesense or something? And get some stuff to dress the place up?"

"Alright," you chuckled, patting his shoulder as you headed for the shower.

_______________________________

Two hours and a burrito later, you sat in the passenger seat of Shawn's Jeep, staring at the entrance to the home décor store.

"You ready?" you questioned, leaning against the headrest.

"Should I keep my sunglasses on?" Shawn asked, ignoring your question. He seemed nervous.

"If you want. Don't really wanna be seen shopping for house shit with a girl," you spoke flatly, earning a hesitant nod from him. With that, you both got out of the car and headed for the front doors.

Shawn was immediately drawn to the nutcrackers, insisting you get the one that looked the most similar to Dumbledore.

"We don't need this," you giggled, twirling its little beard with your finger as Shawn held it out to you.

"But we want it," he grinned, carefully placing it in the cart he insisted on pushing. "Come on!"

And with that, it began. Santa-covered blankets, a tree skirt, tinsel, fake garland, lights for the balcony—Shawn was going all-out. And you were loving every second of it.

"Stay there," you spoke as Shawn ogled over the stockings. You snapped a quick picture, admiring the glow of his skin as his entire body radiated excitement.

"What's that for?" he muttered, feeling the textures of each as he motioned to your phone with his other hand.

"Our first Christmas together," you grinned, "I wanna remember it."

You realized what you had said as soon as the words escaped your lips. Shawn, however, seemed completely unbothered. Instead of panicking and freezing up, like you, he reached around you and pulled you closer by the hip, nuzzling the top of your head with his chin.

"You will," he whispered. Your heart fluttered. "But in other news, I need some serious help here."

"We don't have a fireplace," you rubbed your head against his chest.

"We can hang them on the wall for all I care," he replied, squeezing you a little tighter. "We need stockings."

"Alright," you breathed, finding his hand on your hip and interlacing your fingers with his. "I like these maroon ones," you motioned to the sock-shaped piece of fabric on the wall, "traditional but, um," you struggled to find the word.

"Cozy. Cozy-looking," Shawn nodded, "You're right."

You grabbed two and placed them in the cart, pulling it by the front to the ornament section. Shawn steered from the back, enjoying the view.

"So what kind do you have at home?" you looked back at him, stopping in front of the generic spherical ornaments. Shawn's heart jumped at your words—home.

"Um," he thought for a second, pushing his sunglasses up his nose, "I don't know. I didn't have a tree last year. I think they're just balls?"

"How many?"

"Like fifty?" he scratched his head.

"Okay, that should be good, then. Why are we here?" you walked around to the back of the cart, reaching to hold his bicep as he looked at the ornaments.

"Well, we need some not-boring ones," he said, "like this!" he broke from your grasp, grabbing a blue Toronto Maple Leafs ornament from its hook.

"Oh my god," you shook your head. "Okay."

Shawn proceeded to pick out the tackiest ones while you tried to attract him toward the glittery assortment. He preferred the Grinch figurine on a string.

Before you knew it, you were back in the Jeep with a massive bag in the back, Shawn's hand resting palm-up on the center console.

"Tree farm?" you asked, eyes flickering down to his fingers. They twitched.

"Tree farm," he nodded, his gaze dancing over you as he slowly retracted his hand.

_____________________________

"I like this one," Shawn spoke, reaching out to pluck a needle from the thin pine tree in front of him.

"I think it's too," you paused, "prickly? I like the firs better," you trailed off, looking up at Shawn. His hands were on your hips, pulling you toward his front. Damn. You were really gonna ramble about Christmas trees when this Adonis of a man was looking into your eyes with nothing but pure adoration?

"Let's get a fir, then," Shawn grinned, brushing your nose against his. Your knees just about buckled.

"Shawn, careful," you pressed, resting your hands on his chest. "What if you're spotted?"

"We're the only people here," he pointed out, causing you to look around. Rows and rows of trees, not a person in sight.

"Huh," you nodded, sliding your hands up to his cheeks, "Well, in that case," you grinned, pushing up on your tiptoes to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. But you couldn't.

"Hi! What can I help you with?" an employee rounded the corner, causing you and Shawn to instantly detach from each other like two kids at a Catholic school dance.

"O-oh," you stuttered, watching as Shawn turned to put his sunglasses back on. "We were actually gonna head over to the firs."

"Balsam or Fraser?" the young man asked, Shawn's face contorting into a look of confusion. Christmas trees clearly weren't his area of expertise.

"Balsam, I think," you nodded and pursed your lips, turning on your heel as the employee began to lead the way. Shawn trailed behind, reaching for your fingertips but deciding against it.

Shawn was immediately drawn to a wide seven-foot tree, convinced the two of you would be able to carry it. You knew it was going to be next to impossible, but the look on his face and the excitement in his voice and holy-shit-he-just-called-you-babe.

"Babe, I love this one," he grinned ear to ear, pulling you in from behind so you could see what he was seeing. "See how the needles are silver on the bottom? Fucking gorgeous."

"That one's a silver fir, actually," the employee spoke, shooting Shawn a tight-lipped smile. "You like this one?"

"Yeah," Shawn nodded, leaning backward a bit to kiss the back of your head.

"I'll tie it up for you," the man said, motioning another employee over to assist him.

"Y-you like it, right?" Shawn asked in a bit of a panic, realizing he hadn't even heard your opinion.

"I love it, Shawn," you turned your head to look up at him, his arms still wrapped around your front.

"Good," he smiled, leaning down to peck your nose. The warmth from his cheeks was definitely noticeable.

"You guys are really cute," one of the employees spoke, pulling your attention from Shawn's glossy eyes. "How long have you been together?"

You piped up, trying to break from Shawn's grasp as you began, "Oh, we aren-"

But he cut you off.

"Four years," he spoke with a shit-eating grin, hugging you tighter against his strong frame. "High school sweethearts."

The workers looked at each other and then at each of you, smiles gracing their happy faces.

____________________________

"Why'd you do that?" you asked as soon as Shawn got in the Jeep, needles from the tree on the roof littering the windshield.

"Hmm?" he hummed in question, turning the car on and peeling out of the spot.

"Shawn," you cooed, turning to look at him. His lips were turned up at the corners.

"They clearly didn't recognize me," he started, "Why not have a little fun? Come onnnnn," he groaned, brown eyes flickering over to yours as he came to a stop at a red light.

"I guess," you nodded, finding it impossible not to smile at the sight of his own. "It felt weird."

His face faltered for a split second. Confusion? No. Hurt? Maybe.

"Weird?"

"I dunno," you spoke, turning to face the road. Shawn followed suit. "Four years with you? Like they'd buy that," you teased, left hand reaching over to poke his side.

Before you could pull it away, he had your wrist. His hand was wrapped around yours and he was opening it up, begging your fingers to interlace with his.

"I don't think it would be so bad," he chuckled, bringing your knuckles to his lips and peppering the skin with a few soft kisses before the light turned green. Your heart lurched. "I mean, we have two stockings now," Shawn spoke, his warm breath ghosting over the back of your hand. "You're definitely in for a few more Christmases."

You laughed with a nod, hoping he wouldn't worry too much about your silence. You hadn't thought about this—hadn't thought this far. You only moved in to have a place to stay this year. You never considered third year or fourth year, or that Shawn may want you to stay. You had figured this was only convenient for you.

Maybe you were doing him a favour after all.

_____________________________

To say the tree was tough to move was an understatement. Working the doors to reach the elevator of the underground parking garage was a disaster, and Shawn kept bumping into the walls, covering the concrete floor in tree needles.

"Watch!" you called as he almost backed into the doorframe of the elevator, carefully providing support to the tree so you could lift it to stand upright. "Why did you make me do this?" you asked, moisture pooling in your hairline. Shawn huffed a laugh.

"I like the smell of a real tree," he answered, "and this right here," he spoke, pointing between the two of you as the doors closed and he selected your floor. "We're bonding."

"We are not," you laughed with a roll of your eyes, leaning against the mirrored wall. Shawn hadn't even broken a sweat.

"We are too," he grinned, maneuvering his gigantic body around the tree to bump the toe of your shoe with his. "Get ready," he warned as the doors began to open, signaling for you to prepare to step out and lower the tree.

You walked backward into the hall, Shawn hurrying to exit the elevator before the doors threatened to close. Needles flew everywhere, covering the carpet on the short walk to your front door.

An hour later, with your help, Shawn had the tree secured in the stand.

"Can we start decorating it?" he asked as you filled a glass of water to put in the tree bowl.

"No, it has to settle," you responded.

"How long's that take?" Shawn asked worriedly. What a kid.

"Like an hour? Shawn, calm down," you giggled, bending over to water the tree. His eyes were on your ass. Of course.

"I know what we could do for an hour," he spoke lowly, hand reaching out to ghost over your leggings.

"Make dinner? Yeah," you laughed, standing to face him. He rolled his eyes.

"Can we just order pizza?" he asked, pulling you closer by your hips. Fuck, he smelled good.

"If you want pizza," you grinned, pushing his chest lightly to put some distance between your bodies.

He ordered pizza. He had forgotten what you like, actually, and scurried into the bathroom to ask what you wanted. Gino's Pizza was on the phone and Shawn stuck his head in the shower, completely ignoring the fact that you were butt-naked. You told him you liked cheese.

The tree branches had settled and you were halfway into the pizza when Shawn cracked open the wine, pouring you a hefty glass.

"Fancy, are we?" you asked as he handed you your drink, earning a giggle from him.

"We're having fun," he corrected, leaning down to peck you on the lips. "Pick something," he grinned, handing you the remote as he wandered into the kitchen to pour himself a glass.

________________________________

"Shawn, you can't just start putting ornaments on," you snapped, unwrapping a package of tinsel as he went at the tree haphazardly.

"Why not?" he asked with a frown. Eager.

"We need to start with the lights, genius," you explained, watching as he stood to his full height and huffed a sigh, clearly disappointed he couldn't begin with the best part. "How about you hang the stockings while I do this?" you asked.

He walked off with a nod, cheeks rosy as he started to feel the alcohol. It was going to be a long night.

_______________________________

"Oh my god, Shawn," you laughed, stepping back to look at the tree. The lights were strung and the tinsel was coiled evenly. Shawn, however, was over in the dining room with the stockings. "I thought you were joking about hanging them on the fucking wall."

"Why would I joke about something so serious?" he raised a brow with a grin, giggling at the way his hung a centimeter or so lower than yours.

"Because it's the wall," you spoke flatly with a shake of your head.

"I think they look nice," he pouted, tilting his head to the side.

And you couldn't argue. Maybe because he was basically a little kid or because everything he did was perfect in your eyes. You weren't sure. But this, this was priceless.

And it continued into the other festivities. Shawn was finally able to get to work with the ornaments, ignoring the way you followed his every move to rearrange what he was doing.

"Shawn, they've gotta be spaced out evenly," you groaned, resting your head on his outstretched bicep while you moved a ball further into the branches.

"Shh," he hushed through a wide smile, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "M'havin' fun."

You turned, running cold fingers up his torso as he hung a little hockey player ornament in a terrible spot. He turned a deeper shade of pink, very aware of your burning eyes on him.

"Mm?" he hummed, finally satisfied with its placement as he looked down at you.

"Just lookin' at you," you grinned, resting your head against his hard chest. Something had come over you. Maybe it was the Christmas season or the snow falling so beautifully outside, but you felt home–and it wasn't the apartment. Home had two beautiful brown eyes and a heartbeat.

He opened his mouth to say something, but a sinking feeling in your stomach led you to cut him off.

"Let's get this done, yeah? Then we can finish the movie."

"Okay, just a sec, stay here," he spoke lowly, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. "Don't move."

"Not going anywhere," you grinned, watching as he hurried into the kitchen to where the bags were on the counter. You caught a glimpse of red fabric and white fluff, and he was soon walking your way with two beautiful Santa hats in hand.

"Tossed 'em in the cart when you weren't looking," he spoke through a wide smile, ripping the tags off with his teeth before placing one on himself and then you. "Beautiful!"

"Dork," you giggled, turning toward the tree to finish the job. His eyes lingered on you for a while.

_____________________________

Like the bottle of wine, the tree was finished, and you were curled into Shawn's side, bracing yourself for the wrath of the Abominable Snowman.

Yes, he insisted on watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. And you weren't complaining.

"This part always scared the fuck outta me as a kid," you muttered, pressing your cheek into his shoulder.

"Same," he breathed, "I never realized how shitty the quality is, though. Not very scary."

"Shawn, this came out in like, the sixties," you stated, motioning at the screen with your small hand. "Of course the quality is shit. It's a work of art for its time."

"Maybe I should do a Christmas album," he changed the subject, causing you to look up at him. His eyes were fixed on yours, the movie now forgotten.

"Maybe you should."

"I don't know if I have the voice for it," he sighed, interlacing his fingers around your side.

"Shawn, you can sing anything," you grinned, suddenly feeling sleepy due to the warmth of his heavy frame.

"But Christmas music is a whole different ballgame, kiddo," he breathed, grinning as you closed your eyes and nuzzled his t-shirt. Your Santa hat slipped off.

"I think it would be good," you muttered, "Try me."

"Huh?"

"Sing me something. Something Christmas-y," you spoke softly.

"Fuck," he whispered. He'd never sung specifically for you before. Unless he considered what he'd been recording over the last few weeks. "What's your favourite Christmas song?"

"Sing me your favourite Christmas song," you smiled, positive he was rolling his eyes at you bashfully.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas," he started, excitement coursing through both of your veins.

"There is just one thing I need," his voice sang softly as he gave you a squeeze.

"And I don't care about the presents,

Underneath the Christmas tree,

I don't need to hang my stocking,

There upon the fireplace," he paused to whisper, "that's because I put it on the wall." You giggled and rubbed his arm.

"Santa Claus won't make me happy,

With a toy on Christmas Day,

I just want you for my own," your heart fluttered as he played with the notes. His voice sounded better in your ear.

"More than you could ever know,

Make my wish come true," he paused, possibly for effect.

"All I want for Christmas," another pause. You felt anxious.

"Is you," and you both fell silent. A tear threatened to spill over as you tried not to consider the millions of thoughts running through your mind. Shawn broke the silence.

"You're my Christmas wish," he spoke softly, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. "You know that?"

You froze.

Yes. Yes, I know that. I fucking know that because you're mine, too. You're my everything wish, you thought. You have me, your mind screamed. But your mouth didn't. Because this wasn't just Shawn. This was Shawn Mendes. And you weren't equipped for everything that came with it.

So you didn't reply. Well, you sort of did. Standing from the couch and shivering at the loss of his warm body against yours, you muttered a low "I'm sorry" and headed into your room, shutting the door behind you.

You stood against the wood, worried that if you tried to move your knees might fail you. Listening carefully, you could make out the sound of Shawn sighing, probably standing from the couch to put your wine glasses in the sink. You tried to breathe normally, to not have a full-blown meltdown, but you could hear him standing on the other side of the door and you wanted nothing more than to open it and grab him and kiss him.

But when you finally, finally collected yourself and reached for the knob, you could already hear him walking away.