It was New Years eve and you’d agreed (foolishly) to let your boyfriend invite his two friends over for the celebration. He’d promised it would be fun and said the more the merrier, but still! Well, it was your own fault for allowing it and besides, they’d probably get too drunk and pass out anyway.
You were just finishing up in the kitchen, the red apron that was tied around your neck bearing the brunt of the traces of ingredients. Gilbert was ‘helping’ too by sneaking a taste of whichever nibbly things you created and telling you how awesome they were no matter how many times he got clobbered by the various skillets that were lying around.
He cheered when he heard the doorbell ring and ran off to get tackled by his friends. After greeting each other loudly, they swaggered into the room, completing their Bad Touch Trio, as they called themselves, with identical smirks on their faces.
“Hola chica, I hope you’re going to take as much care of us next year as you did this year.”
“Bonjour, I can only second that.”
“Kesesesesese~ well, you’re definitely going to stay by my side, aren’t you meine frau?”
You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head. “That’s awfully cocky of you, mein man.” You stuck your tongue out at him and he grinned back, releasing Antonio and Francis from his grip. “You will stay with me though, right?”
He captured your waist from behind in his arms and whispered his question in your ear. You craned your neck back to see a strange expression on his face. Was he uncertain? The great Gilbert Beilschmidt was uncertain for once?!
Chuckling, you nodded and turned to kiss his nose. He grinned, his confidence returning. “Alright! Who’s up for challenging the awesome me to some table football?!”
You smiled, he’d gotten the table up from where it had been gathering dust all year in the cellar that morning. His dumbfounded expression when he was tinkering away with it and cleaning it up had been absolutely adorable.
The cries of defeat and victory sounded from the other room accompanied by the metallic spin of the footballers.
You came inside curiously, a platter with edible things in your hands. “Want some?” You asked, trying to keep the plate straight as they each took a couple. “Who’s winning?”
Gilbert pouted, folding his arms. “I am, but there’s two of them!” Francis shrugged. “Shouldn’t have challenged us then.”
Antonio nodded. “Yeah, you said you were awesome enough to take us both on.” Laughing at his silliness, you bumped your hips against his, making space for you. “Go on then, it’ll be us two against them.” You told them, taking hold of two of the handles.
Gilbert grinned at you, hugging you quickly before reclaiming his own handles. He was the front two and you the back, meaning you had the responsibility of keeping the goal safe. The two of you played well and after seemingly no time at all it was down to the last goal.
A plan formed in your mind and acting it out you blinked as if in sudden realisation. “What were the stakes on this again? I don’t have to take my clothes off or anything do I?” The guys all froze, blushes tinting their cheeks as they imagined.
Bang! You smashed the ball into the goal in one go. Smirking at them, you rolled your shoulders. “Well, I’m going to get a drink.” With that you left the three flustered men.
“How on earth did you manage to snag her Gil?” Antonio asked in amazement, ruffling his hair. Gilbert shook his head slowly, his eyes wide. “I still don’t know.” Francis patted him on the back. “Drinks then?”
The three trailed after you and you rolled your eyes giving them each a sparkling glass of champagne. You knew they’d be too slammered later, so you might as well get the toast over and done with.
“Here’s to the next year!” You said, raising your glass.
“Let’s hope we don’t screw up as much!”
“But let’s hope we get screwed!”
On that you all drunk, the males finishing their glasses but you only had a mouthful. You wanted to at least see the count down, so you weren’t going to drink that much.
After more toasts that got sloppier and ruder each time, the three guys were finally quieter, nearly their collapse. Gilbert was surprisingly sober though and he crowed with laughter anytime either of his friends said something stupid.
You smiled watching the banter between them, feeling happy just watching them. Even if you’d wanted to spend this moment alone with your Gilbert, he was right. The evening had been fun, in fact you’d enjoyed yourself more than you thought you could with the trio.
Glancing at your watch, you saw it was nearly time so you turned on the TV for the countdown. The drunkards slid their eyes open for it, their lopsided grins growing larger as the seconds ticked away.
Gilbert came to sit beside you, grasping your hand gently in his as the time neared. You leaned your head on his shoulder, being engulfed in a tight hug when the clock stopped and all manner of fireworks, streamers and glitter were being set off outside and on the TV.
Gilbert kissed you lovingly, laughing in happiness at the fact that you’d actually stayed with him for the entire year. And he hoped you would stay this year too. Oh and the year after that as well and the one afterwards.
Heck, he wanted to stay with you as long as possible and he wanted to see you happier than you’d ever be.
“Glückliches neues Jahr!”
You giggled as the foreign words rolled off his tongue with ease, his language making his accent fit. “I hope I’ll see your smile even more this year. And I promise I’ll love you and protect you even better this year. So.... stay with me?”
He was still holding you against his chest as he spoke, stroking your hair gently. You rolled your eyes. His tone made it sound as if you’d decided to leave him. Taking the collar of his shirt firmly in hand, you planted your lips against his, giving him a kiss he wouldn’t forget.
“I’m not leaving you, so don’t make it sound like I ever will.” You punched him lightly on the shoulder and he caught your hand, kissing your knuckles.
“Gut! ‘Cuz I wasn’t planning on letting you go!”