The MagCon Ships II: In Time (Shaylor)(BoyxBoy)

Chapter 22 - Christmas Special

[Picture: Nick. Video: Hark! The Herald Angels Sing - Pentatonix] 

I see Taylor walking towards me holding something at his back, there's no point in sneaking up to me since I was standing in front of a mirror in my bathroom, making myself presentable to the guests we have downstairs. 

"Hey." He pecks the back of my neck. 

I turn around, returning his kiss. "Hi." 

"I wanted to give you your gift before Christmas Eve." 

"What? No!" I smile. "It's not fair. Gift giving should be on Christmas Eve." 

"But I don't wanna carry this thing around." He pouts. 

I try to take a peak at what he's hiding, but he moves just in time to block it. "Is it big?" I ask.

"Yeah." 

"Taylor, if your gift to me is your dick, I swear..." 

He laughs. "It's not, I promise." 

"What is it, then?" 

"You want it?" 

I nod. 

"Okay." He bites his lip anxiously. "If you don't like it, you can tell me so that I can get you another gift." He reveals a guitar, black with golden linings. It's beautiful, it really is. 

"Taylor.." I gasp, covering my mouth. 

"Your guitar's really old, no offense." He chuckles. "I thought I could get you a new one."

I was speechless, I couldn't utter a single word. But I didn't want to be rude, and this is my boyfriend after all. "Taylor..." I whimper. "I love it, it's beautiful." 

He grabs my hand and gently places the neck of the guitar on it, I hold it, it was heavier than most guitars, but it felt good. "You get additional points if this is in tune." I wink at him. 

He nods. "Go ahead." 

I strum each string, one by one, they were in fact in tune. I was impressed, picturing Taylor walking in a music store and asking for a guitar. I imagine him being clueless, asking a shitload of questions to the employee attending him, asking Which one's the best? I'm giving this as a gift to someone. It was cute, too cute. 

I set the guitar on the side and wrap my arms around him. I smack my lips against him aggressively, but playfully. "I fucking love you." 

"I have one more gift. It's the last." He says.

"Tayloorr." I complain. "What I got you can't compare to what you got me, you're making me feel bad about what I bought." 

"No worries." He pecks me on the lips. "It's okay." 

He reaches for something on his back pocket, pulling out a roll. It was a shirt, rolled up. He grabbed it by the collar and let gravity straighten the shirt down.

It was his baseball t-shirt, the one he let me have but demanded for it when we got in a fight. 

"I want you to have it." He smiles. 

I flush red, like, really red. I can tell how much my face is heating up. I gently grab it from him, bringing it to my nose, smelling it. 

"Smells like you." I remark.

He scratches the back of his head. "Yeah, I never really washed it." 

"It's okay." I tell him. "A good thing, actually."