Status: Drabble one-shot.
The Boy in the Ugly Sweater
Kellin. So his name is Kellin.
It’s the ugly Christmas sweater that captures my attention.
I’m just walking down the high school hallways when it catches my eye with its bright patterns of red, green, and white. I glance over my shoulder automatically, only to discover that the person wearing the sweater is looking at me, too, his bright eyes shining and his pale face turning a light shade of pink.
I don’t have time to say anything to him—I don’t know what I’d even say, really—because we’re both being pushed in opposite directions by the crowds, but I do get to hear Justin Hills call out, “Nice sweater, Kellin!”
This is followed by Ugly Sweater Guy grinning and flipping him off. “Yeah, yeah, you can shut up now.”
Kellin. So his name is Kellin.
—
When I ask my brother Mike as we’re driving home after school, he tells me that the guy I saw was Kellin Quinn. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard the name before, but I never put it to a face until now. Mike tells me that Kellin is normally quiet except when he’s around his friends, like Justin, and that most people don’t even know who he is if they’re not within his small social circle.
"He just seems to sort of blend in with everyone else," he explains. "Nobody ever really notices him or looks at him twice. I only know who he is because we got put together for a group project one time. Why do you even care, anyways? Just ‘cause he was wearing a funny sweater?"
"Uh…I don’t know." In reality, I care because I think Kellin is cute as hell, but I don’t tell Mike that.
"Yeah. Right. Well, whatever." He waves his hand at me. "Try talking to him tomorrow or something, if you really want to."
As strange as it may seem, I do really want to. I can’t help it—I think he’s pretty damn attractive; even the ugly sweater couldn’t hide that. In fact, he just made it look good.
I have to remind myself not to get my hopes up about this guy. Cute or not, he’s still probably straight, and that’ll extinguish this flame before it’s even had a chance to burn.
—
Kellin is more difficult to find the next day—I guess Mike was right about him blending into the background. Luckily, his friends are not so elusive.
"Hey," I say to Justin as we’re all hanging out in our first period class. He sits on the other side of the room, so I’m just kind of awkwardly standing in front of his desk, since most of the others are taken. "This is gonna sound weird, but could you tell me where I can find Kellin Quinn?"
Justin looks like he’s trying not to smile or laugh. “How ‘bout I just give you his number, and you can ask him out on a date?”
I can feel my face start to heat up. “Um…okay,” I say slowly, unsure as to whether or not he’s kidding. “That works, too.”
Now he looks surprised. “Wait, are you serious?”
Oh. I guess he was kidding, then. “Well, that was sort of the direction I was heading,” I admit. “Sort of. I don’t know. I was just kind of…” Suddenly, I realize that I really have no idea what the hell I’m thinking. I want to take this guy out on a date when I barely knew he existed until yesterday, and I still don’t know much about his personality except that he’s generally shy and quiet. And what shy, quiet, probably straight guy would go out on a date with someone they’ve never even spoken to before?
"It’s okay," Justin says, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Here. Take it. I think he’ll be happy to hear from you. Really." He holds out a small slip of paper, which has a phone number written on it.
For all I know, this number could be fake. Or maybe it’s not fake, and Justin’s just giving it to me so he and Kellin can laugh when I call. It’s not like those types of things haven’t happened to me before.
Still, I find myself taking the paper and hastily thanking Justin before returning to my assigned seat. I think I’m going slightly crazy.
Almost as soon as the dismissal bell rings at the end of the day, I pull the paper back out of my pocket and dial the number as I’m walking outside. I almost don’t expect him to pick up, but sure enough, there’s that new yet familiar voice: “Uh, hello?”
Even that voice sounds shy and quiet, and I try to make myself seem calm. “Uh, hi,” I say. “I’m Vic. Fuentes.”
There’s a short pause, and then Kellin says, “Oh. Uh, hi. What…why’re you calling me?”
"Justin gave me your number. I was wondering if you wanted to, um…" I take a deep breath. This is all so ridiculous. He’ll never say yes. "If you wanted to go out on a date with me? Tonight, maybe?"
Another short pause, and then: “This isn’t some stupid prank, is it?”
"What? No. Of course not. Why would it be?" I say, genuinely confused. Why would he think I was pranking him?
"Because you’re super popular and probably straight," Kellin says slowly, "and I’m a gay nobody."
Well, he’s right about the popular part. Still, I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “I’m gay, Kellin,” I say. “And I think you’re fucking cute, and I think that sweater you were wearing yesterday was fucking cute, and I want to take your fucking cute ass out on a date. Merry early Christmas.”
Now he’s laughing in what sounds like a mixture of surprise and relief. “Oh my God. Are you serious? Yes. My fucking cute ass wants to go on a date with you tonight.”
And with that, it’s settled.
—
Kellin gives me his address, and about two hours later, I pick him up at his house. The moment that he hops into the passenger seat, I get the feeling that this wasn’t a mistake.
He’s beautiful, and for a few moments, I just take it all in—his eyes, his hair, his lips, his face, his hands…all of him. I can’t help but notice that he’s wearing another Christmas sweater, this one a bit less hideous than the one he wore yesterday. He still makes it look adorable.
"You seem to like my ugly Christmas sweaters," he says softly, glancing down at himself and blushing a little, "so I wore one for you."
"It’s so cute," I tell him, and I mean it.
He nudges me slightly, playfully, a bashful smile dancing across his lips. “Shut up.”
"I’m not making fun of it, I’m being serious," I say as I pull out of the driveway. "I told you, I think it’s cute. I think you’re cute.”
Kellin lets out a tiny giggle, and it really is a beautiful sound.
I take him to a small coffee shop—stereotypical, but it was just sort of calling to me—and once we start talking, we can’t stop. We have a lot in common, actually, and as the night goes on, I can feel something blooming between us.
As it turns out, Kellin has apparently been harboring a small crush on me for a few months now. He also apparently only wore that sweater yesterday because he lost a bet with Justin.
Really, though, I have to thank Justin for winning that bet. I saw the sweater before I saw Kellin, and without it, I probably never would’ve noticed him. And that would have been a shame.
—
"Vic. It’s time.”
I groan and swat at Kellin. I’m lying in our bed, and he’s wide awake and right in my face. “No. Five more minutes.”
"Come on, baby. Get up. It’s December 1st. Do you know what that means? It means it’s time to break out the ugly Christmas sweaters."
"Okay, okay. Just let me wake up first."
It’s been almost exactly five years since our first date. Kellin is not my boyfriend. He’s my husband.
I sit up in bed and take my shirt off as Kellin digs around in the closet. A few seconds later, he tosses me a few different sweaters. “Here are some of yours.” Then he takes his own shirt off, revealing his gorgeous tattoos and light skin, and pulls out the sweater he was wearing on the day that I first saw him in the hallway. “And here’s one of mine.” He sighs as he puts it on. “Almost five years, and I still haven’t grown out of this thing. Oh well. I love being able to wear it.”
I pick one of my sweaters and slide it on, a wide smile immediately finding its way onto my face. This is our tradition, our little inside joke.
"Come over here and kiss me, baby," I call. "I’m going back to sleep, and I want to fall asleep to your lips."
Kellin grins and rushes back over, jumping onto the bed and tackling me, that adorable giggle taking my breath away even more than the actual collision. He kisses me softly, laughing into my mouth. “I still can’t believe I’m married to you,” he whispers in astonishment.
"Well, you’d better believe it, because you and your ugly sweaters are stuck with me forever," I say, already feeling myself slipping back into sleep with the newfound warmth of the sweater and his body against mine.
He kisses me again, and even though I’ve closed my eyes, I can still feel the stupid grin on his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I’m just walking down the high school hallways when it catches my eye with its bright patterns of red, green, and white. I glance over my shoulder automatically, only to discover that the person wearing the sweater is looking at me, too, his bright eyes shining and his pale face turning a light shade of pink.
I don’t have time to say anything to him—I don’t know what I’d even say, really—because we’re both being pushed in opposite directions by the crowds, but I do get to hear Justin Hills call out, “Nice sweater, Kellin!”
This is followed by Ugly Sweater Guy grinning and flipping him off. “Yeah, yeah, you can shut up now.”
Kellin. So his name is Kellin.
—
When I ask my brother Mike as we’re driving home after school, he tells me that the guy I saw was Kellin Quinn. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard the name before, but I never put it to a face until now. Mike tells me that Kellin is normally quiet except when he’s around his friends, like Justin, and that most people don’t even know who he is if they’re not within his small social circle.
"He just seems to sort of blend in with everyone else," he explains. "Nobody ever really notices him or looks at him twice. I only know who he is because we got put together for a group project one time. Why do you even care, anyways? Just ‘cause he was wearing a funny sweater?"
"Uh…I don’t know." In reality, I care because I think Kellin is cute as hell, but I don’t tell Mike that.
"Yeah. Right. Well, whatever." He waves his hand at me. "Try talking to him tomorrow or something, if you really want to."
As strange as it may seem, I do really want to. I can’t help it—I think he’s pretty damn attractive; even the ugly sweater couldn’t hide that. In fact, he just made it look good.
I have to remind myself not to get my hopes up about this guy. Cute or not, he’s still probably straight, and that’ll extinguish this flame before it’s even had a chance to burn.
—
Kellin is more difficult to find the next day—I guess Mike was right about him blending into the background. Luckily, his friends are not so elusive.
"Hey," I say to Justin as we’re all hanging out in our first period class. He sits on the other side of the room, so I’m just kind of awkwardly standing in front of his desk, since most of the others are taken. "This is gonna sound weird, but could you tell me where I can find Kellin Quinn?"
Justin looks like he’s trying not to smile or laugh. “How ‘bout I just give you his number, and you can ask him out on a date?”
I can feel my face start to heat up. “Um…okay,” I say slowly, unsure as to whether or not he’s kidding. “That works, too.”
Now he looks surprised. “Wait, are you serious?”
Oh. I guess he was kidding, then. “Well, that was sort of the direction I was heading,” I admit. “Sort of. I don’t know. I was just kind of…” Suddenly, I realize that I really have no idea what the hell I’m thinking. I want to take this guy out on a date when I barely knew he existed until yesterday, and I still don’t know much about his personality except that he’s generally shy and quiet. And what shy, quiet, probably straight guy would go out on a date with someone they’ve never even spoken to before?
"It’s okay," Justin says, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Here. Take it. I think he’ll be happy to hear from you. Really." He holds out a small slip of paper, which has a phone number written on it.
For all I know, this number could be fake. Or maybe it’s not fake, and Justin’s just giving it to me so he and Kellin can laugh when I call. It’s not like those types of things haven’t happened to me before.
Still, I find myself taking the paper and hastily thanking Justin before returning to my assigned seat. I think I’m going slightly crazy.
Almost as soon as the dismissal bell rings at the end of the day, I pull the paper back out of my pocket and dial the number as I’m walking outside. I almost don’t expect him to pick up, but sure enough, there’s that new yet familiar voice: “Uh, hello?”
Even that voice sounds shy and quiet, and I try to make myself seem calm. “Uh, hi,” I say. “I’m Vic. Fuentes.”
There’s a short pause, and then Kellin says, “Oh. Uh, hi. What…why’re you calling me?”
"Justin gave me your number. I was wondering if you wanted to, um…" I take a deep breath. This is all so ridiculous. He’ll never say yes. "If you wanted to go out on a date with me? Tonight, maybe?"
Another short pause, and then: “This isn’t some stupid prank, is it?”
"What? No. Of course not. Why would it be?" I say, genuinely confused. Why would he think I was pranking him?
"Because you’re super popular and probably straight," Kellin says slowly, "and I’m a gay nobody."
Well, he’s right about the popular part. Still, I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “I’m gay, Kellin,” I say. “And I think you’re fucking cute, and I think that sweater you were wearing yesterday was fucking cute, and I want to take your fucking cute ass out on a date. Merry early Christmas.”
Now he’s laughing in what sounds like a mixture of surprise and relief. “Oh my God. Are you serious? Yes. My fucking cute ass wants to go on a date with you tonight.”
And with that, it’s settled.
—
Kellin gives me his address, and about two hours later, I pick him up at his house. The moment that he hops into the passenger seat, I get the feeling that this wasn’t a mistake.
He’s beautiful, and for a few moments, I just take it all in—his eyes, his hair, his lips, his face, his hands…all of him. I can’t help but notice that he’s wearing another Christmas sweater, this one a bit less hideous than the one he wore yesterday. He still makes it look adorable.
"You seem to like my ugly Christmas sweaters," he says softly, glancing down at himself and blushing a little, "so I wore one for you."
"It’s so cute," I tell him, and I mean it.
He nudges me slightly, playfully, a bashful smile dancing across his lips. “Shut up.”
"I’m not making fun of it, I’m being serious," I say as I pull out of the driveway. "I told you, I think it’s cute. I think you’re cute.”
Kellin lets out a tiny giggle, and it really is a beautiful sound.
I take him to a small coffee shop—stereotypical, but it was just sort of calling to me—and once we start talking, we can’t stop. We have a lot in common, actually, and as the night goes on, I can feel something blooming between us.
As it turns out, Kellin has apparently been harboring a small crush on me for a few months now. He also apparently only wore that sweater yesterday because he lost a bet with Justin.
Really, though, I have to thank Justin for winning that bet. I saw the sweater before I saw Kellin, and without it, I probably never would’ve noticed him. And that would have been a shame.
—
"Vic. It’s time.”
I groan and swat at Kellin. I’m lying in our bed, and he’s wide awake and right in my face. “No. Five more minutes.”
"Come on, baby. Get up. It’s December 1st. Do you know what that means? It means it’s time to break out the ugly Christmas sweaters."
"Okay, okay. Just let me wake up first."
It’s been almost exactly five years since our first date. Kellin is not my boyfriend. He’s my husband.
I sit up in bed and take my shirt off as Kellin digs around in the closet. A few seconds later, he tosses me a few different sweaters. “Here are some of yours.” Then he takes his own shirt off, revealing his gorgeous tattoos and light skin, and pulls out the sweater he was wearing on the day that I first saw him in the hallway. “And here’s one of mine.” He sighs as he puts it on. “Almost five years, and I still haven’t grown out of this thing. Oh well. I love being able to wear it.”
I pick one of my sweaters and slide it on, a wide smile immediately finding its way onto my face. This is our tradition, our little inside joke.
"Come over here and kiss me, baby," I call. "I’m going back to sleep, and I want to fall asleep to your lips."
Kellin grins and rushes back over, jumping onto the bed and tackling me, that adorable giggle taking my breath away even more than the actual collision. He kisses me softly, laughing into my mouth. “I still can’t believe I’m married to you,” he whispers in astonishment.
"Well, you’d better believe it, because you and your ugly sweaters are stuck with me forever," I say, already feeling myself slipping back into sleep with the newfound warmth of the sweater and his body against mine.
He kisses me again, and even though I’ve closed my eyes, I can still feel the stupid grin on his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”