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So maybe you didn't actually know what Dyle liked, let alone what he wanted for Christmas. Actually you weren't sure if he was interested in the holiday- it was always hard to tell with him because the clock toon was always sitting up in his personal shop pouring over train schedules and orders. It wasn't so much that he locked out everyone, its just that he was… so busy, and some were even too scared to disturb him. Some were more busy with hanging out with their own friends that they've already established.
…Okay so maybe you did have an idea of what he liked- a one off comment from Finn only confirmed your theory.
But liking trains and wanting train related things were two closely related but different things. God knows that while you were grateful, it got a little disappointing to receive the twentieth baking sheet once you decided to try your hand with the oven.
Bobette had already tried to pry and learn what he could want- and sure trains were a start, it could only do so much.
…Would Dyle be interested in having a train set to put together in some empty space in his shop to keep him busy when the visitors had left for the day and the toons had already retired for the night?
You knew he had a space behind the wall for himself. Only once you were able to see it, all by chance when you had drawn his trinket from a game Dandy had hosted just the day before. The entire thing still hung fresh in your mind- the smell of ink blotted notes absolutely covering Dyle's wall and the stale stench of something you could only akin to coffee and toasted granola.
-And while Bobette was good at asking everyone what they wanted for Christmas and did her best to make sure at least one of their wishes were heard- God bless her heart, she really was a hard worker and loved spreading the cheer, Rudie was better at keeping the conversation going… for the more festive toons at least. Toodles loved him, and you were sure Gourdy would too on the off chance they ever got the meet. Unlikely, but you liked to think Gourdy had a pile of letters to pass off to Santa.
…Okay so maybe you didn't like that thought as much as you liked.
Ginger didn't speak much to Dyle either, not that she disliked him. She just… tended to keep to herself and make the most of her time to spend with her cousin- you didn't blame her for it. You did partly blame her for her treats being a little… not the tastiest, even if they looked pretty. Bitter. Not terrible, though, but not something you would go for.
Not that you'd say it to her face.
Never to her face.
So that left you to do some brainstorming- and just your luck: the craft siblings and Brusha had decided to collaborate on a little activity to paint and decorate mugs for hot cocoa- with the help of Teagan to supply the cups of course; turns out, it's not just tea cups she keeps on hand!
…You had tried to paint a train wrapping around the mug and while you were proud of yourself in the moment, you couldn't help but get second thoughts as you shuffled to the window of Dyle's shop after everyone else had gone to bed. You hadn't meant to sneak around so late, you really didn't. Actually you had intended to come earlier but it turned out painting took a long time, as did baking. The doors to Gardenview had already closed for the day by the time the paint on the mug had dried enough to seal.
Plastic crinkles in your other hand as you bring yourself even closer to the large open window.
It's just that you had helped Cosmo and Boxten clean up the kitchen- what's hot cocoa without some nice fresh cookies? Sad cocoa. That's what it is.
Gingerbread wasn't always someone's cup of tea… cocoa… so just in case, you've whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies- and who didn't enjoy chocolate chip cookies?
You had promised butterscotch yesterday, but… there was an incident- you had trusted Boxten to keep an eye on the oven, and… well…
You were sure if someone had paid close enough attention they could catch the faintest whiff of smoke still clinging onto your sweater- you didn't even think to change out, only focused on getting the gifts to Dyle before he went to bed…
Cosmo had told you Dyle seemed to enjoy them, so hopefully- he liked the vaguely cinnamon infused baked goods…. though maybe you should have gone with nutmeg- or maybe espresso powder, maybe Dyle liked his chocolate richer instead of- no or maybe you should have just made a plain regular batch with no fancy powder or-
It was too late, you were already standing in front of the window- and before briefly arguing with yourself on whether it can be called a window due to it simply being an open hole in the wall with no glass- and you were already bringing the mug (which had been stuffed to the brim with homemade cocoa mix, completed with mini marshmallows of course… in their own packet in case he doesn't like marshmallows-) to set it on the counter, the plastic bags of cookies crinkling to the side to drown out the mug's clink.
All things considered, under the many colors of the Christmas lights the paint on the mug didn't look all that bad. A body of dark midnight blue speckled with white stars, you had gone through a sort of space theme to lean into the wrapping of the train. Whimsical. The billowing of steam stained in purples and oranges and yellow, some pinks thrown in here and there. So long as no one looked too hard at the way the compartments were warped and laid out it didn't look half bad. For someone who didn't draw trains that often it didn't look half bad- you really ought to pat yourself on the back as soon as you were in your room again-
You wouldn't waste any more time. It was decided.
Unfortunately the universe had other plans decided for you before your foot even twisted on the carpet to aim itself back down to the elevators to go back down to your floor.
The lights within Dyle's shop that were once off suddenly sprung to life- instantly outmatching the bright string lights set up in the hall. Harsh white light drowning out the festive cacophony of red and green- blues and yellows and pinks partially thrown in like a similar mess of the trains steam.
You were right, there was another spot behind the main wall of the shop, because Dyle had peeked around the corner to see- dark eyes fixed right on you. Tired, but not hostile or upset. His coat had been shrugged off, rainbow tie undone and resting loosely on his… again, did toons even have necks?
Regardless it was easily the most undressed you've ever seen Dyle- not that you were trying to see him undressed of course.
Still, between feeling like you've somehow caught him indecent and the shame of being caught your feet slammed into one another, the floor suddenly looked incredibly interesting… say was that real wood or was it the weird mimic or-
"I fear lost and found is not my forte," Dyle broke the silence first as his quiet steps made their way to the counter just outside of your field of vision. The end of his chain caught slightly on the wall as he rounded it- clinking. Metal. Not like the plastic chains of the whistle you've occasionally seen him pull out to fiddle with on the occasion you were around to see it.
"Dandicius would be more than happy and willing to help you ensure these items find their rightful owner," The hands of his clock-face twitched as his eyes finally settled on the painted mug. He hardly seemed to notice it was you- like he had been snapped out of a half dazed stupor caused by whatever he did in his personal time.
Funnily enough it didn't look like it clicked that the item was intended for him either.
"It's not lost it's… uhm…" Molars catch on the inner meat of your cheek as the curl of your finger flexes into itself, against the soft meaty pad of flesh that made your palm. "I made it for you actually, I wasn't sure what you wanted but-" Your tongue tensed flat against your lower jaw, crammed against your teeth- was it meant to be that wide or were you thinking too much about it? Oh God the sound didn't come out in your speech, did it-
"It's gingerbread and chocolate chip- not together of course. I mean they are together, but they're not in the same cookie-"
He really didn't realize the items were for him. It was brief, but the widening of his shiny eyelid gave everything away before his hands even made contact with the smooth painted surface.
"For Christmas," You added quickly.
It felt like an eternity before he said anything, rolling the cup around in his fingers- thumb swiping over the painted steam. He didn't even think to empty the baggies of marshmallow and powder, allowing it to spill out of the opening of the mug and slumping pathetically to the counter- praying to not be rejected.
"Did you paint this yourself?"
Five words. That's all it took for the lump in your throat to finally snap and dissolve in the face of the clock toon. Even after spending several minutes alone with him just over twenty four hours ago the air still bubbled warmly against the back of your neck. Wasn't it supposed to get easier?
Another swipe of his thumb as he stared hard at the dark- almost black- train. Windows and wheels just barely marked out with deep purple where the bright golden and pink glow of the black ironed pilot failed to cast the fire- in hindsight… it didn't at all make sense, you vaguely recall Dyle once commenting that the grill was intended to protect the train in the case of collision. Not at all where the engine was but maybe you could get away with it being a stylistic choice should Dyle ever ask about it.
"I did- honestly I spent way too long trying to make the wheels all look the same size… turns out, perspective is really hard,"
It was also a lot harder with Brusha breathing down your neck trying to give you pointers that you quite frankly didn't ask for but- and mostly due to the fact that the children were still around- you had bit your tongue.
Brusha… certainly had her passions. Whether or not it bled into her being a little to nosy about other's pursuits and goals as well as how they should be executed was up to debate.
Even just thinking about it killed off some of the embarrassment and replaced it with hot bitterness- you didn't hate her, but-
"It looks wonderful," Dyle's finger tapped on the steam billowing from the smokestack of the train. "I like the colors," Another brief pause of silence. "It's better than anything I could do… painting never quite called to me.. I could never quite get the techniques down anyway,"
"Blending can be a little rough depending on the paint… and colors…" A half step to the counter. "I almost added red to the mug but it can be a real nasty color sometimes, takes over the entire thing if you don't work it in right- and I wanted the colors to pop but… not that much, you know?"
Dyle nodded slightly, sending the hard chain of his head scraping against the inner wall of the counter. "Yes I suppose I can understand why you had to leave out the red,"
"…did you want there to be red? I can maybe add some-"
Your hand began to reach forward instinctively, but with the same drive Dyle pulled the mug close to his white top, arms curled protectively to his chest- possessiveness almost out of character for him, at least based off of the few interactions you've had with him personally and what you've heard about him from the other toons.
"I quite like it as is," Dyle finally muttered as his hand swiped along the curved side of the mug, before he finally looked down at the cookies.
You pounce on the chance to move past the sudden defense.
"Before you ask, it was me who made these- Cosmo was just making sure I didn't forget them in the oven," Okay so maybe not the best choice after Boxten had burnt the first batch while you were hastily attempting to clean up the kitchen- turns out a lot of baking went down during the last few days before Christmas. An influx of visitors as well as toons feeling festive.
"…No butterscotch unfortunately, but I swear next time I'll make them for you- the last of the chips were used and… there was a little teensy tiny accident earlier and well," You shrug and limply gesture to the baggies. "I hope the gingerbread can make up for that- again I swear I'll make you a new batch.. maybe a double batch… or maybe.."
"That won't be necessary," The mug reunited with the counter as Dyle pulled the bag of chocolate chip cookies into his hands. "I'm sure regardless your baking is just as good as it was yesterday,"
Another pause.
"…Would you like to come in and share these with me? I don't think I could finish all of these before they go stale,"
Oh!
Oh!
"Yeah- Hang on wait- do you want me to grab some stuff for hot cocoa or-"
"If you'd like for there to be some," Dyle picked the mug up as well as the baggies. Soft crinkling, quieter than when you had plopped them on the counter as he treated the items with more care than your anxious fingers could afford. "My door will be unlocked, unless you'd like me to accompany you,"
"…Do you want to come to the kitchen with me?"
A smile, just as soft as the one he had given you yesterday.
"I would love to,"
And just like that Dyle dipped out of sight behind the back wall of the shop-
Maybe… if you could make this moment stretch on for longer you could will the heat away from your cheeks, or maybe think of a convincing way to say it was from the cold air blowing in from the train tunnel.