*a Chris Evans fan fiction*
a Chris-mas in July story
Chris runs an embarrassing errand on Christmas Eve for his sister
Warnings: Fluff, Language, Adult Situations
Word Count: 1037
I can’t help but laugh at the poor man. He’s been standing there so long, the snow from his boots has started to melt, and creates a small puddle at his feet. I walk down the aisle and grab just what I need, praying ‘please don’t be cute.’ I toss it in my cart, and turn to his confused profile.
“Uh, lookin’ a little lost there. Need some help?” I ask him.
Ah, fuckin’ hell. When he turns to me, he has the most beautiful blue eyes. They shine as bright as the blue lights Grandma insists on her Christmas tree every year. His dark scruff is perfect against his pale skin, and his dirty blonde hair has the appearance of growing out from a much shorter cut, like it won’t quite do what he wants it to do yet. It’s very endearing and I’m struck by his handsome adorableness; he reminds me of a playful puppy.
“That obvious?” he chuckles.
“Standing in the feminine supply aisle on Christmas Eve? Yea, a little obvious. Unless you’re into giving weird gifts,” I laugh. His smile in return illuminates the space between us.
“I should get something for my brother, while I’m here,” he mocks. “No, my sister called and,” he shakes his head in disgust. “She sent me a picture of what to get and now my phone is dead.” He looks at me with a sense of dread in his eyes. “It’s Christmas Eve and she has three kids. Do you know what hell awaits me- and her husband- if I don’t bring the right thing when I go to dinner?”
I laugh, pulling my phone from my pocket. This guy is just too cute. What guy is willing to stop at the pharmacy for his sister and her feminine needs on Christmas Eve? “Well, it looks like the rest of the evening should go well?” I indicate the amount of booze he’s loaded into his cart.
“Those are the weird gifts you previously indicated. White elephant party later tonight.”
“Wicked… So, do you wanna use my phone to call your sister? I’d hate for your death to be on my hands, what with it being a holiday and all…” I push my phone to his chest, instantly struck by how solid he is. He takes it from my hands, smiling gratefully.
“You’re hands are freezing! Don’t you have gloves?” he asks as he begins to dial her number, pulling his gloves out of his pocket and handing them to me.
“Thanks, yea, I must have left mine on my desk at work,” I reply, inspecting his haul as he leaves a voicemail for his sister. I can just picture him and all his frat boy pals from college getting their buzz on. Honestly, he seems a bit old for that kinda shit on Christmas Eve, but whatever.
“Hey, I’m really sorry to take up your time. I’m sure you have family to get to…. Do you mind waiting a minute? She might call back. We never answer unknown numbers,” he offers as a weird explanation.
I look quizzically at him and when the phone rings, he checks to see if it’s her return call before answering. “Hey Sis, yea, my phone went dead and this nice stranger is letting me use hers….” He begins to blush and moves away from me and I hide back another giggle when I hear him say quietly, “Yea, she’s cute, but I’m not hitting on a girl I meet in THIS aisle of the store…. No. I don’t know… She could be married…”
I try not to look as he turns back to me and he says into the phone, “Her coat sleeves cover her hand, I can’t tell… Sis, for fuck’s sake, it is Christmas Eve- yea, fine. Ok. I’ll do it. What damn thing do you need me to get? They ALL say that… Well, shit, sis, they all look the same to me. Send another picture of the damn box.”
He walks back over to me and I pretend I didn’t hear the conversation. “I’m waiting on her to send a picture. Apparently, she doesn’t trust me…. Sooo, this is gonna sound really strange, but,” he sighs, embarrassed, “Carly says if you don’t have plans you’re welcome to come back to the house. We do this Open House, neighborhood type thing, and it’s a free for all, and-”
He stops when the phone buzzes and a picture flashes on the screen. He looks closely at the picture and scans the aisle in front of him. He’s holding the phone, just so, and I can see the picture too. I grab what he’s searching for and toss it in his cart. “There. It’s done,” I tease. “But you’ll have to load it on the counter yourself.”
He laughs. “I am a man. I wear pink polos. I wash dishes. I can buy feminine products on Christmas Eve. I can unload my own cart, thank you very much,” he says with a strut as we walk down the aisle. I finally can’t contain my laughter as he grabs a couple of boxes of condoms without looking and throws them in the cart as well.
“Just what kinda party are you inviting me to?” I laugh, bumping his hip, handing him back his gloves.
“That’s for the white elephant party later… So dinner? My ma makes the best manicotti in Boston? I mean, if you need to get home to family, I understand, but…”
Walking to the front of the store to pay, I place my hand on his arm and he stops his nervous walk. “I’d like to say, yes, but there’s just one problem…”
“Oh, God, please don’t be married,” he whispers, a blush on his face.
I pull back my coat sleeves and hold up both hands, indicating no rings. “No, not married. I can’t say yes, because I don’t know your name.”
A slow grin breaks across his face, “Seriously? That’s the only reason? Oh, okay… Hi, I’m Chris.”
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