Here is my Book of Mormon Secret Santa gift for @prophetarnold! I am so sorry that I didnât have time to do my AU idea / make a longer fic, but I do hope you enjoy this fluffy holiday ficlet! âđđ CC: @bom-events
Christmas in Uganda just isnât the same as it used to be back home. Itâs hot and dry and Kevin is pretty sure the Christmas sweater Arnold had made for him was beginning to melt into his skin. Heâs sweating. There isnât any snow. They donât have a tree. All they have is makeshift egg nog spiked with Ugandan gin, homemade Christmas attire, and one measly string of twinkle lights.
But at least he has a cold drink in his hand and a good view of the other side of the hut, where Elder McKinley is standing on a ladder, attempting to hang a string of multi-colored lights around the window. The back of his red and green Christmas shirt hikes up just a little as he strains to catch the wire onto the curtain hook, revealing the small of his back. Kevin knows it isnât polite to stare, and he certainly admires Elder McKinley for more than just his skinâhis really, really soft skinâbut he just canât help it; heâs transfixed on the sight. So transfixed that he jumps a little when his best friend claps a hand to his back.
âHey, buddy,â Arnold says, in a quieter voice than usual. âSo what did you end up getting for Elder McKinley?â
Kevin isnât quite sure heâd heard that right. âWhat?â
âFor the Secret Santa,â he whispers, presumably so that the other Elders wouldnât hear them. âWhatâd you end up getting him?â
âHow do you know who I got for the Secret Santa?â Kevin narrows his eyes, trying to suppress a smirk. âItâs supposed to be a secret, remember?â
âUhhhhâŚ. I donât know.â Arnold shrugs, but his lies are always ridiculously transparent. He scratches at his head. âLucky guess?â
Kevin rolls his eyes. âYeah, okay.â
âAnyway, whatâd you end up getting him?â His question comes out more like a squeal and the smile on his face his big and loving and genuine. It always is, making it nearly impossible for Kevin to ever really be annoyed by him. âI heard you were at the market for hours the other day.â He winks and elbows Kevin in the side. âSo, it must be something good.â
Kevin looks down and shrugs, giving the glass of spiked egg nog in his hand a little stir. He doesnât usually drinkâtheyâd only recently relaxed the rules enough to do so and he still feels a hefty amount of religious guiltâbut if heâs going to go through with what heâs planning to go through with later on that evening, heâs going to need a little liquid courage. (Okay, maybe a lot of liquid courage).
âI got him a gift card,â Kevin says, glancing up just in time to see his best friendâs face drop.
âAâa gift card?â Arnold wrinkles his nose. âThatâs what you got him?â Kevin nods and takes another sip from his drink. âYou spent the entire day at the market and all you got him was a lousy gift card?â
âThere isnât even anywhere to shop around here, Kevâwhatâd you get him a gift card for?â
âThat,â Kevin grins, and gives his best friend a bop on the nose. âIs private information.â
âPrivate?â Arnold looks confused for a moment, but it doesnât take long for his eyes to start lighting up with ideas. âOoooh, I bet you made him one of those romantic coupon thingies, right? Like for a free back massage or an hour long foot rub or a night ofââ
âNo.â Kevin holds up a hand to stop him. Whatever his best friend was about to say, Kevin knows he doesnât want to hear it. âWe arenât even dating, yet, Arnold.â
âSo, itâs a little early on for me to be making him free massage coupons.â
âThen what is it?â Arnold begs, but Kevin knows he has to hold his ground. Heâs already nervous enough as it is, about what heâs planning to do. The last thing he needs is for his best friend to start blabbing it around to everyone else at the party; or, worse, loudly cheering him on from the other side of the room.
âCome on.â Arnold gives Kevinâs shoulder a gentle shake. âYou owe me one, buddy. I rigged the Secret Santa for you so that youâd get each other and now you wonât even tell me what you got him? It isnât fair and you know it.â
âHa!â Kevin shoves a triumphant finger in his friendâs face. âI knew you rigged it.â Arnold rolls his eyes. âAnd, if you must know⌠the gift card I got him is for Elder Ghaliâs House of Chicken, but thatâs all Iâm telling you.â
Arnold blinks. âYouâyou got him a gift card to the chicken place?â
âI spent hours of my life trying to figure out a way to rig the Secret Santa so that youâd get each other and thatâs what you get him? The gift of undercooked chicken and stale beer?â
âThatâs right.â Kevin takes another sip of his egg nog, trying to hide the smirk on his face. He doesnât tell Arnold that it isnât even a real gift card, that he actually had Elder Ghali make him one out of a piece of cardboard and a marker. He was going for symbolism here, the details of the actual card werenât all that important.
Arnold sighs. âThis was so not worth writing out twelve pieces of paper with Elder McKinleyâs name on it and giving you a separate jar to pick from that looks exactly like the real one.â
âTrust me, buddy.â Kevin wraps an arm around his best friend and leads him back out into the party. âItâs not just a gift card.â
âYouâll see.â Kevin grins, downing the rest of his egg nog in one shot as they walk out into the living room.