Fic: Miracle on State Street
Title: Miracle on State Street
Author: jacqui_hw
Rating: G
Word Count: 7,000
Pairing Jon/Spencer (Pete/Patrick)
Warnings: Fluffy Christmas sweetness
Summary:Miracle on 34th Street AU. Ryan Ross does not believe in Santa Claus. Do you?
Thanks to ditchwitchbitch for all the help and encouragement, as always. All errors are mine.
Prologue
Santa's workshop was filled with the banging of hammers and the whirring of machines and the chatter of elves. Excitement throughout the North Pole had increased a hundred fold as the last and most important period of the year dawned. Even Santa Claus himself couldn't sleep.
"Patrick? Patrick are you awake?" He poked the lump next to him that he assumed was Patrick's shoulder. "Patrick. Patrick. Patrick. Patrick."
A hand snaked out from under the covers and grabbed Santa's poking finger.
"I will kill you."
Santa had heard that threat many times. "I'm worried Patrick."
Patrick sat up with a sigh and pulled Santa closer.
"What about?"
"Ryan Ross."
Patrick pushed Santa away and snuggled down under the covers again. "Ryan Ross is just fine. Leave him alone."
"No. This is different," Santa protested. "He's special. I haven't been able to sleep, thinking about it."
"You haven't been able to sleep since the 1800s."
"Patrick," Santa whined, curling around Patrick's back. "I want to save this kid."
"Ryan Ross does not need saving," Patrick assured him. "Smith is seeing to that."
Santa shook his head. "You'll see. I'm going to go and save little Ryan Ross-Smith. And his father too."
Thanksgiving
"This parade sucks."
"It does not."
"Does too. Look at that guy playing Santa. He's drunk."
"Ryan!" Brendon gasped. "Don't be mean."
"Brendon," Ryan managed in exactly the same tone of voice. "Don't be dumb."
Brendon's lip began to wobble. "I'm not being dumb. You should be nice to Santa or you'll get coal in your stocking." He looked back out of the window and muttered, "You should be nice to everyone."
Ryan stared at Brendon for whole minute before he spoke.
"Santa Claus doesn't exist."
Brendon burst into tears.
***
Spencer Smith was near breaking point.
It had been six months since he'd uprooted his whole life and moved himself and Ryan to Chicago. It was supposed to be a new beginning, a step up in the world that would make things better for for both of them. He'd wanted time and space to bond with Ryan. God knew he'd been waiting long enough for that to happen.
But that step up had brought a whole new load of responsibility, quite different to getting to know your newly adopted son. He'd had to spend the last month working late at the office, trying to make everything perfect to prove himself. He needed everything to be perfect if he was going to succeed. He needed to give Ryan the kind of life he deserved.
Things weren't exactly going according to plan.
First of all, one of the balloons had failed to inflate. Frantic phone calls had informed him that there were no other suitable balloons available at such short notice. That meant a drastic rearrangement was required. A couple of the girl scouts had gotten sick and that threw his numbers off.
Oh and Santa Claus was drunk.
"Excuse me? Excuse me Sir," Spencer called to the man swaying from side to side on the sleigh. "You'll have to get down from there."
Santa remained where he was, wobbling slightly. "Who else have you got?" he slurred. "I'm doing it. I always wanted to be in the parade."
Spencer grimaced. The guy did have a point. There wasn't anyone else at such short notice and the parade needed a Santa Claus. On the other hand, kids were watching this. His kid was watching this.
"Um, I couldn't help but overhear..."
Spencer turned to find a guy of about 30 smiling at him. He was short, his hair was very black and sticking up, and he was covered in tattoos.
"Yes?"
"I think I can help you out."
***
Ryan knocked four times on Mr. Walker's door and then counted slowly to ten. He had just raised his hand to knock again when the door opened.
"Ryan. It's good to see you buddy."
"Hello, Mr. Walker."
Jon smiled. "Ryan, how many times have I told you to call me Jon?"
Ryan thought it over and decided that was one of those questions grown-ups asked but never wanted answered. He smiled politely instead.
"What can I do for you?"
"Brendon's crying."
Jon grabbed his keys and followed Ryan down the hall. "Why is Brendon crying?"
Ryan shrugged and pushed open the door to his apartment. "He's just being a baby about Santa Claus."
"I am not a baby," Brendon gasped between sobs. Ryan rolled his eyes, thinking this pretty much proved his point.
Jon grabbed Brendon and settled down on the sofa with him in his lap. Ryan climbed up onto the window seat and pressed his face against the glass.
"They got rid of the drunk guy."
Jon didn't have a clue what Ryan was talking about. Brendon was still sniffling into his shirt.
"You want to tell me what happened, sport?"
Brendon's eyes got huge and his lip wobbled again. "Ryan said there was no such thing as Santa Claus."
Ryan looked over his shoulder and shrugged his shoulders at Jon. "Someone had to tell him."
****
Spencer was going to be so fired.
"Relax, Smith. I know what I'm doing."
Spencer groaned. "Mr. Wentz, as much as I appreciate your help..."
"Is this because I don't have a beard?"
"Well," Spencer hummed, "You're certainly not a typical Santa Claus."
Wentz nodded as though he heard that sort of thing every day. "Wait until I get into the suit."
Spencer thought the suit was going to look ridiculous. The guy was tiny. "I very much doubt the suit is going to fit."
"I have my own suit."
***
Jon thought he managed to hide his surprise rather well.
"Santa Claus does exist."
Ryan still looked skeptical but Brendon brightened immediately. "Really? Really Jon?"
"Yes really," Jon laughed and started to tickle Brendon. "Would I lie to you?"
Brendon shook his head and then giggled and screamed as Jon tossed him over his shoulder and started to run around the living room.
Ryan watched them quietly for a while, occasionally looking back over his shoulder out of the window.
"What time is your mom picking you up Brendon?" Jon asked and then looked around the room as though coming to a realisation. "Where the hell is Greta?"
Brendon bit his lip. "Jon. You said a bad word."
Ryan saved him. "She had to leave. Spencer was supposed to be back by now."
"She shouldn't leave you alone," Jon protested, swinging Brendon around by the arms. "Why didn't you call your dad? Why didn't you come and get me?"
"We were watching the parade, Jon. I knew Spencer was having trouble because of the drunken Santa." At this, Ryan pointed out the window and Jon dragged Brendon, still giggling, over to see what Ryan was pointing at.
"He's been worried about this parade for a month. I didn't want to make him worried about us too. We were fine until Brendon started crying."
Brendon let go of Jon's hands and climbed up next to Ryan on the window seat. "That was your fault. I bet you're on the naughty list."
Ryan heaved a sigh and shook his head. "There's no such thing. Spencer bought me some new clothes and a dozen books, and I think he bought me a train set we looked at last week, even though I told him I didn't need it."
"Well maybe Santa Claus will bring you something else," Jon said, taking a seat between the two boys.
Ryan shrugged, not wanting Brendon to start crying again, but cupped his hands around Jon's ear and whispered, "Spencer told me the truth."
Jon winced and wrapped his arm around Ryan as the parade started.
***
Spencer would never be able to tell anyone how it happened, but one minute Pete Wentz was standing in front of him wearing a hoodie and eyeliner, and the next he was Santa Claus. Or as close as you could get to Santa Claus, since Santa Claus was a fictional character and Pete Wentz was definitely a real live person. Gone was the tiny, skinny guy with tattoos and a grin that took up half his face, and in his place, stood a portly older man with a huge white beard, in a red suit and hat with gleaming buttons and shiny black boots.
"Mr. Wentz?"
"Good, isn't it?" Santa said, and the voice was definitely still Pete. "Do I get the job?"
Spencer couldn't have found a better looking Santa Claus in a million years. He pushed Pete towards the sleigh. "After the parade, I need you to sign a contract," he said, hoping that was enough time to run all the checks that needed to be done. "Pete Wentz? Is that your full name?"
Pete reached into the pocket of his Santa suit and pulled out a business card. "Everything you need is on there."
***
It was late when Spencer finally arrived home. The warmth of the apartment hit him as soon as he opened the door and he smiled.
"Hello? Ryan? Greta? I brought dinner." There was no answer.
Stepping into the living room, Spencer saw a note on the coffee table in Ryan's neat and careful handwriting.
Spencer,
Mr. Walker invited us for Thanksgiving dinner. I told him you were bringing take-out but he said that wasn't a proper way to celebrate Thanksgiving. Greta had to leave early and Brendon's mom just came to pick him up.
If it's too late when you get back, I hope the parade went well.
Ryan
Every word felt like a punch to the stomach, even though Spencer knew that's not how Ryan had intended it. He checked he had his keys and all but ran next door to Jon's apartment.
The door swung open after his first sharp knock, and Spencer was struck, not for the first time, by just how incredible Jon Walker looked when he smiled.
"Spencer," Jon greeted him, tugging him quickly inside. "You're just in time for dinner."
"Ryan..?"
"Is setting the table," Jon told him, nodding towards the dining room. "Would you like some wine?"
Spencer shook his head, already heading in the direction Jon had indicated. "I don't drink."
Ryan was setting the table just as Jon said, kneeling up on one of the chairs to straighten the centerpiece. What Spencer wanted to do was take the few steps across the room, scoop Ryan up into his arms and hug him tightly. What was stopping him was Ryan himself. Ryan didn't hug. He allowed Spencer a certain amount of fatherly affection, but he'd only just stopped correcting people when they called Spencer his father. Spencer didn't want to push it.
"Hey," Spencer finally said, still rooted in the doorway. He was blessed with Ryan turning enough to give him his brightest smile. It had taken months for Spencer to recognize it for what it was. "Is Jon taking care of you?"
Ryan jumped down from the chair and walked closer to Spencer, nodding. "Yes. How was the parade? We saw the drunk Santa Claus. He made Brendon cry."
Jon appeared at Spencer's shoulder, carrying two dishes piled high with vegetables. "Who made Brendon cry?"
Ryan blushed and Spencer took the opportunity of moving out of Jon's way to lift Ryan into his arms. "You made Brendon cry?"
Ryan's hands clenched reflexively on Spencer's shoulders and he fidgeted for a moment before he stilled. "I just told him there was no Santa Claus. It's not my fault he had to be a baby about it."
Jon made a weird huffing noise, but thankfully didn't say anything. It wasn't any of his business what Ryan believed.
"Well, you shouldn't tell other children that," Spencer said gently, hoping that Brendon hadn't be too upset by the whole thing. "It's something we all have to learn for ourselves."
Ryan shrugged, which Spencer took to mean agreement. "Jon told him it wasn't true anyway."
"I believe in Santa Claus," Jon said easily, when they both turned their attention to him. "Please sit, I just have to get the turkey."
Jon disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Spencer deposited Ryan on a chair at the table and went to help.
Three Weeks to Christmas
Jon hadn't told Ryan where they were going when he'd bundled him into his coat that morning, but he'd been smiling a small, secret smile for the whole walk. When they arrived at Macy's, Ryan was slightly disappointed.
"You said we were going somewhere cool," he said, when Jon pushed open the door and ushered Ryan through it.
"This is cool," Jon replied, taking hold of Ryan's hand again and squeezing it. "Stay close okay?"
"This is where Spencer works, Jon," Ryan pointed out, in case Jon had somehow forgotten. "He hates it here. It's boring." He looked up at the Christmas decorations in the same distracted way he always had. "Which is too bad since he's here most of the time."
Jon glanced down at Ryan. "Ryan, Spencer is..."
Ryan heaved a heavy sigh. "You don't have to explain, Jon. It's not Spencer's fault." They stepped off the escalator and were, all of a sudden, confronted with the toy department, which had been transformed into a winter wonderland, with Santa's grotto, pride of place in the center. "What are we doing here?"
"I thought it was time you met Santa," Jon said with a grin as they joined the short line of children. "I know you said you don't believe in him but, if there is a Santa Claus, you don't want to hurt his feelings do you?"
Ryan stared up at Jon as though he had two heads. "If there is a Santa Claus, what's he doing working at Macy's?"
Jon was saved from answering by the bored looking elf girl who waved them through the gate towards Santa.
Santa scooped Ryan up into his lap and grinned. "Hello Ryan."
Ryan's face registered surprise then settled into a wary frown. "How do you know my name?"
"I know everything," Santa whispered. "I'm Santa Claus." He laughed and bounced Ryan a little on his knee.
"Oh," Ryan said, his face clearing all of a sudden. "You know Spencer."
"That is true," Santa said sounding slightly dejected. "But I am Santa Claus, all the same."
Ryan's smile was polite but it was obvious to everyone he wasn't convinced. "Your costume is very good. Spencer says you don't look anything like this without it."
Santa's eyes twinkled and he laughed again. "Your dad is right about that." He turned his attention to Jon and gave him an appraising look. "And who is this?"
"Oh, this is Mr. Walker," Ryan said, waving for Jon to step closer. "He lives next door to us."
Jon held up his hand friendly salute. "Pleased to meet you, Santa."
"Well, Ryan," Santa said, turning his attention away from Jon. "What would you like for Christmas?"
"Nothing thank you," Ryan answered. "Spencer has bought me all the things I need." He stiffened slightly, his eyes suddenly fixed on a point past Santa's shoulder. "Hi, Spencer."
Santa and Jon both looked in the direction Ryan was staring.
"What's going on?" Spencer asked as he approached. "Ryan...?"
"Jon brought me to meet Santa," Ryan explained as he slid off Santa's lap. "It was nice to meet you. You really are the best looking Santa I've ever seen."
"Thank you, Ryan," Santa said with a smile. He looked as though he wanted to say more but Spencer's frosty glare kept everyone quiet.
***
Spencer picked up Ryan and carried him back through the store to his office, with Jon trailing behind, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"We can't talk about this here," Spencer hissed at Jon, once Ryan was safely occupied with a book.
Jon grinned that ridiculous grin of his and nodded his agreement. "Excellent. We'll have dinner at seven and discuss the whole thing."
"I don't know, Jon," Spencer sighed, glancing back towards Ryan. "Things are just settling down for us. It's almost Christmas."
"Tomorrow then. One night. Please."
"I don't know if Greta's available..."
"I'll handle it. Just say yes."
Spencer nodded, not reluctantly. He knew he'd be fooling himself if he pretended he wasn't attracted to Jon. There'd been something between them from their first meeting and Jon had always kept the flirting light and backed off as soon as Spencer bristled in any way. If it wasn't for Ryan, Spencer was sure they'd have been together already. But the fact remained, there was Ryan and he'd been through a lot and Spencer didn't want to force any added complications into the mix. Maybe in a couple of years, if Jon was still single... And that was where Spencer's reasoning came to a crashing halt, because there was no way Jon would be single in two years. Spencer was lucky there'd been no one in six months. Of course Jon would get tired of waiting and find someone perfect. That was fine. Spencer had Ryan to think about.
"Yes."
***
Jon passed Santa's grotto on his way out of the store. The line of children had vanished and in their place was a sign that read Santa is feeding his reindeer. Back at 2pm.
"Mr. Walker," a voice called out before he stepped onto the escalator, stopping him in his tracks. The voice sounded like the store Santa Claus, but when Jon turned around, he couldn't see him anywhere. "Jon!" the voice called out again, and this time it was accompanied by a guy, a few years older than Jon, wearing eyeliner and skinny jeans, jumping up and down. "Wait up!"
Jon stayed where he was, staring in shock at the sight of the store Santa Claus, obviously out of his costume, looking nothing like the man who had bounced Ryan on his knee an hour earlier. Ryan was right, it really was the best Santa costume in the world.
"Thanks, man," Santa grinned when he got close enough to grab Jon's arm and pull him onto the escalator. "I thought we could have lunch and talk. You can tell me what's going on between you and Smith."
***
Ryan waited as patiently as he could for Spencer to finish up and take him home, but when the phone rang for the fourth time and Spencer said, "Just two more minutes. I'm sorry," before answering, Ryan gave up. He'd finished his book soon after the second phone call and there was nothing in Spencer's office to keep him occupied, so as soon as he was sure Spencer wasn't paying attention, Ryan slipped out of his office and down the corridor to the store, and out into the children's department.
There as a longer line of children waiting to see Santa and Ryan drifted in that direction, knowing Spencer would be able to spot him easily and that there were plenty of staff members around who recognized him.
As the next girl made her way towards Santa, her mother stepped forward and placed her hand on Santa's arm. "She's deaf," the woman said simply, as Santa lifted the girl into his lap. You don't have to say anything. She just wanted to meet you and get a photo."
The little girl smiled a wide, gap-toothed grin and Santa seemed to be struck for a moment before he settled the girl carefully on his knees and raised his hands to greet her with sign-language. The girl and her mother were overjoyed, and Ryan sat mesmerized. How many department store Santa's knew sign-language? And he had known Ryan's name earlier, though Ryan couldn't imagine Spencer talking about him with a stranger. The little girl hugged Santa and Santa hugged her back, promising her the doll she wanted for Christmas.
Maybe, Ryan thought, maybe his father had been wrong. He bit his lip, feeling immediately guilty. His father couldn't have been wrong. It wasn't fair to think such things when he couldn't explain himself.
A hand clamped down desperately on his shoulder and Ryan turned his head in time to see the frantic look on Spencer's face before he was gathered up into Spencer's arms. He stayed still, as always, but wrapped his arms around Spencer's shoulders to steady himself.
"Don't do that again," Spencer was saying fiercely in his ear, as he stroked Ryan's hair. "Don't ever run away."
Ryan wanted to say that he hadn't been running away, but as Spencer squeezed him tighter, it suddenly felt like the wrong time to say anything at all.
***
Greta wasn't available to babysit. Spencer told himself it was all for the best, but couldn't help putting on his favorite sweater and best jeans, so that when Jon rang the doorbell at seven that evening, he looked good even as he went to turn Jon down.
It wasn't just Jon at the door though.
"You said you didn't know if Greta was free," Jon said immediately, upon seeing Spencer's face. "So I thought, who better to look after Ryan, than Santa Claus."
Pete was standing next to Jon, wearing a bright purple hoodie with faux-fur trim. "You've already checked my references," he said by way of a greeting and stepped inside, pushing Spencer gently out into the hall at the same time. "You kids have fun." With that, he tossed Spencer a coat and his keys, and closed the door behind them.
Jon took hold of Spencer's hand and squeezed it. "I've been waiting six months for this Smith. You're not escaping this time."
***
"Alright, kid," Pete said, throwing himself down on the sofa next to Ryan. "What are we doing tonight? Baking cookies? Watching Christmas movies?"
Ryan narrowed his eyes at him. "Where's Spencer?"
"Spencer is having dinner with Jon and Greta couldn't make it," Pete told him, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table. "So it's just you and me."
One of Ryan's eyebrows inched upwards of its own accord. "Who are you?"
Pete threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, of course. Well, I'm Pete Wentz, but you'll know me as Santa Claus."
***
"So what exactly do you have against Santa Claus?" Jon asked, half way through dessert.
Spencer wasn't at all ready for the question and choked slightly on his cheesecake, prompting Jon to pat him gently on the back until Spencer had managed to sip down some of his wine. Spencer couldn't fail to notice that Jon didn't remove his hand.
"I have nothing against Santa Claus," Spencer protested. "You think I told Ryan there was no such thing? He's six years old."
"But..."
Spencer sighed. "Ryan's mom left him and his father four months after Ryan was born. She left them on Christmas Eve. Ryan's dad did the best he could, but he couldn't celebrate Christmas after that, not even for Ryan. I think, the last Christmas they had together, he told Ryan that there was no Santa Claus and Ryan has kept that with him ever since. Everyone I talked to, Social Services, the adoption agency, psychiatrists, they all told me to let him do things his way, to give him boundaries but not try and force anything on him. This seems important to him. I just want him to be happy."
Jon stared at Spencer the whole time he was talking and, as soon as Spencer was finished, Jon leaned across the tiny distance between them and kissed him.
***
"Can I ask you something?" Pete said as he tucked Ryan up in bed that night.
They'd watched A Muppet Family Christmas and Ryan had giggled into a cushion all the way through, completely failing to hide his amusement from Pete like he'd hoped. Then they'd baked cookies and settled down to watch It's a Wonderful Life. It was Pete this time, who had failed to hide his tears from Ryan.
"Of course," Ryan said now, as Pete switched on the night light and sat down at the side of the bed.
"Why do you call your dad Spencer?"
For a moment, Ryan looked terrified, but he managed to compose himself, turning his attention to the ceiling. "Because Spencer's not my dad. I mean, he adopted me. My dad died a couple of years ago. I don't remember much about him. He told me about Santa Claus though. About how he didn't exist. He never liked Christmas much. My mom left us the Christmas after I was born."
Ryan could feel Pete's eyes on him and rolled away, onto his side, so he wouldn't have to face him. "Good night, Mr. Wentz."
Pete stood and brushed his hand over Ryan's hair once. "Good night, Ryan," he murmured as he closed the door behind him.
***
Spencer and Jon arrived home just before midnight. Spencer hesitated outside Jon's door, but continued on towards his own apartment with a smile.
"Goodnight, Jon."
"Wait," Jon said, catching Spencer's wrist and pulling him back towards him. "No goodnight kiss?" He dipped his head and caught Spencer's lips again, smiling against them when he felt Spencer melt a little, against him.
"Jon," Spencer moaned, pushing Jon back and stepping away again. "We can't. I have to think about what's best for Ryan. I do care about you an awful lot, but he needs stability right now and I'm not sure that this, between us..."
"Spencer," Jon interrupted, closing the distance between them again. "I want you..."
Spencer held up his hand and shook his head. "I can't do that. It's not fair to him and... In the long run, it wouldn't be fair to you either." He opened the door to his apartment in one single swift motion and disappeared inside before Jon had a chance to protest.
One week to Christmas
Brendon's mother was nice, in a sort of efficient motherly way that Ryan had never really known. She smelled of cookies and hummed Christmas carols while they walked. Her hand was warm and large around Ryan's as they walked through Macy's towards the children's floor.
She wasn't Jon, however.
It had been twelve days since Spencer had announced that they'd both be spending a lot less time with Mr. Waker, and concentrate instead on being closer as a family. Ryan had wanted to ask what had happened between Spencer and Jon, but Spencer had looked so sad and lost at the time, that Ryan had simply nodded and asked if they could read some more of the Harry Potter book they were half way through.
Now, as they stood in line to see Santa, Ryan couldn't help but think of doing the same thing with Jon two weeks previously. Pete looked exactly like Santa Claus and nothing like he had when he'd babysat for Ryan. It had been playing on Ryan's mind almost as much as the Jon situation.
Brendon was chattering excitedly next to him, but Ryan as always, was paying as little attention as possible. It wasn't that he didn't like Brendon. In fact, Brendon was probably Ryan's best friend in the whole world. But Brendon tended to talk a lot and Ryan just preferred the quiet.
They reached the front of the line relatively quickly and Pete waved at Ryan, beckoning them closer. He pulled Brendon up onto his knee and let Ryan remain standing at his side.
"Brendon," Pete greeted, again without any prompting, adding to Ryan's growing list of evidence. "How are you, buddy? You've been a good boy this year."
"Thank you, Sir," Brendon said quickly, smiling as brightly as Ryan had ever seen. "Are you really Santa Claus? Because my friend Ryan said you weren't."
Pete looked over at Ryan and winked. "Oh I know Ryan," he said with a secret smile of his own. "What do you think Ryan? Am I Santa Claus?"
Ryan was caught, unsure exactly how to answer. Brendon bounced eagerly on Pete's knee, huge eyes pleading with Ryan to say...
"Yes. Yes of course he's Santa Claus."
Brendon laughed and wrapped his arms around Pete. "Did you get my letter?"
"I sure did," Pete answered, ruffling Brendon's hair. "If you're a good boy until Christmas Day, that guitar will be waiting for you, just as you wished."
If it was possible, Brendon's eyes widened even more. "Thank you Santa. Merry Christmas to you." He hopped down from Pete's knee and tugged on Ryan's sleeve. "Now you."
Ryan wasn't sure whether he wanted to or not, but he remembered Spencer's words of the previous evening and finally relented, allowing Pete to pull him up into his lap.
"Spencer says I should ask you for something I'd never ask him for," Ryan told Pete bluntly. "That way, if I wake up on Christmas morning and its there, I'll know the truth."
Pete looked a little bit nervous. "Ryan, I'm not sure..."
"So I'm going to," Ryan plowed on, determinedly. He took a deep breath. "I want a family. I want two parents and a big house in the country where we live. And a dog." He bit his lip and then very slowly reached up to whisper one final thing in Pete's ear. "Can you do that?"
Pete nodded, thinking it over. "Well, you'll have to wait and see, won't you?" He smiled and helped Ryan down. "I will do my very best for you, Ryan. I promise."
Christmas Eve
"Where are we going?" Ryan yawned, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as Spencer carried him to the car, on Christmas Eve morning.
It was insanely early and Spencer had balked at the idea of working on Christmas Eve, his first Christmas Eve with Ryan, until Eric had mentioned overtime and Spencer had immediately thought "college fund". So they were headed to the company house, the one right out in the middle of nowhere, where they were going to take pictures with the company photographer, for next year's Christmas catalogue.
Spencer settled Ryan in the car and started the three hour drive, out to the house. "We're going to the catalogue house. Shane's meeting us there. You remember Shane?"
Spencer had worked with Shane a couple of times since he'd moved to Chicago. He was very professional and Spencer hoped it wouldn't take long to get what they needed and get home again.
***
It had been three weeks since Jon had seen Spencer and Ryan. Every day he'd stopped himself walking the few feet down the hall and demanding that Spencer stop being such an idiot. What did he know? Maybe Spencer was right. Maybe they just weren't meant to be together.
He sat on the front porch of the beautiful old house, waiting patiently for someone to arrive. Shane had been very vague on the phone, muttering something about a family emergency and urgent photos and a bonus, "a big bonus", for Jon if he took the job. He'd agreed more for something to do than anything altruistic.
A car turned onto the drive a moment later and he sighed with some relief, that he'd finally be able to escape the cold. He ran down the porch steps to greet Shane's clients, only then realizing that, that was Spencer's car.
"Jon?" Spencer asked, upon climbing out of the car. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Jon replied, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. He smiled hopefully. "Shane had an emergency."
Ryan pushed the car door open with both hands and jumped out, smiling rather more than was usual. "Jon, you're here."
Jon laughed. "I sure am, kiddo," he said, and knelt down next to Ryan. "I missed you."
Spencer cleared his throat before Ryan could answer and Jon stood up again quickly.
"We just need some photos for the Christmas catalogue," Spencer announced, taking Ryan's hand and fishing the house keys out of his coat pocket at the same time. "You've seen one right? You know the sort of thing?"
Jon sighed, but turned to follow Spencer with a nod. "I know."
"Excellent. Then this should only take a couple of hours."
***
It started snowing thirty minutes after they'd arrived and it only got worse in the following hours. By lunchtime the drive was totally covered and Spencer's frantic calls to traffic hotlines had brought the information that the highway was closed and it was too dangerous to travel.
"There's plenty of food in the kitchen," Jon announced, setting three cups of hot chocolate down on the coffee table, in the living room. "And the beds are made up. Are you sure someone doesn't just live here?"
"No one lives here," Spencer answered, distractedly. "What if we can't get home?"
"Well that was kind of my point," Jon said with a smile. "We have enough to see us through for a week if we need to stay." He glanced back towards the window. "I think we're going to need to stay."
Ryan didn't seem to mind. The house had a huge library, with more books than Ryan had ever seen outside a bookstore. He'd grabbed the first one that looked interesting and allowed Spencer to wrap him up in a blanket and settle him in an armchair, in front of the fire in the living room.
Spencer and Jon were sharing the sofa, their voices low so as not to worry Ryan too much.
"I missed you too," Jon said into the silence, late in the afternoon, once Ryan had started to drift off to sleep. "You and Ryan. Both." He winced at his own clumsy wording. "I didn't think you wanted me gone from your life so badly."
"I didn't," Spencer told him honestly. "I've missed having you around. And Ryan misses you too. All the time. Of course he doesn't say it..."
"He's a good kid," Jon said, smiling fondly across at Ryan. The book was starting to slip from his hands.
Spencer stood and gathered Ryan up in his arms. "I'll take him up to bed."
Jon nodded in agreement. "I'll make us some food."
***
Dinner was a success, but there was very little you could get wrong with grilled cheese. Jon said as much when Spencer congratulated him for the magnificent feast.
"Are you mocking me?"
"Only a little," Spencer laughed as they began to clear up. "You should be careful though. I could get used to that sort of treatment."
Jon fell silent and Spencer cursed himself for being so stupid.
"You wash," Jon said to break the tension, tossing a dishcloth at Spencer. "I'll dry."
They worked in silence for a while until the majority of the dishes and cups were cleaned away. Spencer flicked the coffee-maker on again.
"Maybe there's a Christmas movie on we could watch," he said, trying to keep things light. He glanced in Jon's direction, but Jon was a lot closer than Spencer had been expecting. "Hi."
Jon leaned in, trapping Spencer between him and the kitchen counter. He pushed his hips slowly and very deliberately against Spencer's, then bent his head forward to kiss him.
Spencer's arms wrapped around Jon's shoulders of their own accord and he kissed back with all the heat and desire he'd been storing up for the last six months.
"I want to marry you," Jon said between kisses, resisting the insistent pull of Spencer's hands on his head. "I want us to be a family. You and me and Ryan..."
"Okay," Spencer agreed breathlessly. "More kissing though."
Jon couldn't really argue with that.
***
It was only later, much later, as Jon and Spencer made their way up to bed, hand in hand, that Spencer spotted the envelope with their names on it, sitting on the hall table.
"Was that there when we got he?" Jon asked, frowning. He looked at the door and back at the table, trying to remember.
Spencer shrugged and opened the envelope, to find a simple note written in gold ink.
Dear Spencer & Jon (& Ryan too)
I took the liberty of informing your superiors that they could dispense with a monetary bonus this year. I thought this house would suit your new family a great deal more.
Enjoy your first Christmas together, my dear friends.
Love always,
Pete
Christmas Day
Ryan woke up to a strange snuffling noise, that got louder and louder until finally, Ryan couldn't hear anything but what seemed to be... panting?
He opened his eyes at the first lick on a tongue on his ear, terror streaking through him, until he turned his head and found himself face-to-face with a beagle puppy. He laughed, loud and happy, and the dog barked in return.
"Oh my gosh." Ryan pushed himself up so he was sitting, giggling in surprise and delight when the puppy stepped gingerly on his knees and proceeded to lick his face.
The door opened suddenly and Spencer was half way into the room, before the sight of Ryan and the puppy stopped him short. "Ryan? Ryan are you..?" He trailed off and stared. "What the he...?"
"Dad!" Ryan shouted, excitement making him almost giddy with delight. "Dad, this is the best... how did you...?"
It was Ryan's turn to stop as his words caught up with him. He looked at Spencer warily, feelings of guilt and happiness both welling inside him.
Spencer in turn was staring at Ryan with adoration. "You called me..."
"I don't have to," Ryan said quickly. "If you'd rather I didn't..."
"No, no," Spencer interrupted, stumbling the last few steps to Ryan's bed and sinking down onto it thankfully. "That's all I've wanted." He reached out hesitantly towards Ryan, wondering if he could risk a hug. Ryan buried his face into the puppy's fur and mumbled against it. Spencer had to listen extra hard to make out the words.
"I don't want to forget him. I thought, if I called you dad, it would mean I didn't think of him that way." He looked up at Spencer then. "But that doesn't have to be true right?"
Spencer shook his head and lifted Ryan up, out of the bed, away from the puppy, until he was cradled against Spencer's chest. "He will always be your dad. I would just very much like that honor too."
Ryan sniffed and Spencer kindly pretended not to hear, rocking Ryan gently until he composed himself and hugged Spencer back.
That was how Jon found them twenty minutes later, when the barking had gone on so long that each of Spencer and Ryan's shushes simply made them burst out laughing.
"What on earth is going on in here?" he asked, wasting no time in climbing up onto the bed with them. He wrapped his arms around them both and leaned his head against Spencer's, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I didn't know we had a dog."
"Oh my gosh," Ryan said again, pulling back enough that he could point at Jon and Spencer. "You two... You... Did you?"
"Oh yeah," Spencer murmured and blushed. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about that."
"You don't have to," Ryan said. He got to his feet and started to jump up and down on the bed. "I knew it. I knew it. Pete is Santa Claus. I asked him for two parents, and a house, and a dog. And he got them for me. Well not the other thing, but I guess I can wait for that. So he is Santa Claus, right?"
Spencer looked at Jon, who had lifted the puppy into his arms and was talking the most ridiculous baby-talk to it, and then at Ryan, still bouncing and laughing on the bed.
"I think you might be right, Ryan. I think Santa Claus really does exist."
Epilogue
Santa's workshop was silent. The elves were off celebrating the holiday season with their one day of rest.
Out of the darkness came the jingle of bells and the sound of Santa's booming laughter, calming Patrick who had been waiting by the open door for hours. The snow was falling heavily and Patrick had been getting worried.
"Pete!" Patrick ran towards the sleigh as the reindeer landed and trotted for the warmth of the stables. "Pete, thank goodness." He threw himself onto Pete as he stepped down from the sleigh and hugged him tight.
Pete laughed and kissed Patrick's nose. "Were you worried? You know there's no need for it. Those reindeer could get through anything."
"I always worry," Patrick told him, stepping away. He unfastened the harness from the sleigh and freed the reindeer to their warm beds and piles of food. "How was it this year?"
"It was wonderful," Pete beamed. "I feel like I could sleep for a week though."
Patrick smiled and took Pete's hand, tugging him gently towards the house, while Pete yawned and stretched. He fell down onto the bed once they reached their room, his appearance changing instantly, from old to young. Patrick started to carefully remove Pete's clothes. "What about Ryan and Spencer? Did you fix them?"
Pete grinned widely and slid beneath the covers, tugging Patrick down beside them.
"Of course I did," he murmured against Patrick's hair. "And they live happily ever after."
Author: jacqui_hw
Rating: G
Word Count: 7,000
Pairing Jon/Spencer (Pete/Patrick)
Warnings: Fluffy Christmas sweetness
Summary:Miracle on 34th Street AU. Ryan Ross does not believe in Santa Claus. Do you?
Thanks to ditchwitchbitch for all the help and encouragement, as always. All errors are mine.
Prologue
Santa's workshop was filled with the banging of hammers and the whirring of machines and the chatter of elves. Excitement throughout the North Pole had increased a hundred fold as the last and most important period of the year dawned. Even Santa Claus himself couldn't sleep.
"Patrick? Patrick are you awake?" He poked the lump next to him that he assumed was Patrick's shoulder. "Patrick. Patrick. Patrick. Patrick."
A hand snaked out from under the covers and grabbed Santa's poking finger.
"I will kill you."
Santa had heard that threat many times. "I'm worried Patrick."
Patrick sat up with a sigh and pulled Santa closer.
"What about?"
"Ryan Ross."
Patrick pushed Santa away and snuggled down under the covers again. "Ryan Ross is just fine. Leave him alone."
"No. This is different," Santa protested. "He's special. I haven't been able to sleep, thinking about it."
"You haven't been able to sleep since the 1800s."
"Patrick," Santa whined, curling around Patrick's back. "I want to save this kid."
"Ryan Ross does not need saving," Patrick assured him. "Smith is seeing to that."
Santa shook his head. "You'll see. I'm going to go and save little Ryan Ross-Smith. And his father too."
Thanksgiving
"This parade sucks."
"It does not."
"Does too. Look at that guy playing Santa. He's drunk."
"Ryan!" Brendon gasped. "Don't be mean."
"Brendon," Ryan managed in exactly the same tone of voice. "Don't be dumb."
Brendon's lip began to wobble. "I'm not being dumb. You should be nice to Santa or you'll get coal in your stocking." He looked back out of the window and muttered, "You should be nice to everyone."
Ryan stared at Brendon for whole minute before he spoke.
"Santa Claus doesn't exist."
Brendon burst into tears.
***
Spencer Smith was near breaking point.
It had been six months since he'd uprooted his whole life and moved himself and Ryan to Chicago. It was supposed to be a new beginning, a step up in the world that would make things better for for both of them. He'd wanted time and space to bond with Ryan. God knew he'd been waiting long enough for that to happen.
But that step up had brought a whole new load of responsibility, quite different to getting to know your newly adopted son. He'd had to spend the last month working late at the office, trying to make everything perfect to prove himself. He needed everything to be perfect if he was going to succeed. He needed to give Ryan the kind of life he deserved.
Things weren't exactly going according to plan.
First of all, one of the balloons had failed to inflate. Frantic phone calls had informed him that there were no other suitable balloons available at such short notice. That meant a drastic rearrangement was required. A couple of the girl scouts had gotten sick and that threw his numbers off.
Oh and Santa Claus was drunk.
"Excuse me? Excuse me Sir," Spencer called to the man swaying from side to side on the sleigh. "You'll have to get down from there."
Santa remained where he was, wobbling slightly. "Who else have you got?" he slurred. "I'm doing it. I always wanted to be in the parade."
Spencer grimaced. The guy did have a point. There wasn't anyone else at such short notice and the parade needed a Santa Claus. On the other hand, kids were watching this. His kid was watching this.
"Um, I couldn't help but overhear..."
Spencer turned to find a guy of about 30 smiling at him. He was short, his hair was very black and sticking up, and he was covered in tattoos.
"Yes?"
"I think I can help you out."
***
Ryan knocked four times on Mr. Walker's door and then counted slowly to ten. He had just raised his hand to knock again when the door opened.
"Ryan. It's good to see you buddy."
"Hello, Mr. Walker."
Jon smiled. "Ryan, how many times have I told you to call me Jon?"
Ryan thought it over and decided that was one of those questions grown-ups asked but never wanted answered. He smiled politely instead.
"What can I do for you?"
"Brendon's crying."
Jon grabbed his keys and followed Ryan down the hall. "Why is Brendon crying?"
Ryan shrugged and pushed open the door to his apartment. "He's just being a baby about Santa Claus."
"I am not a baby," Brendon gasped between sobs. Ryan rolled his eyes, thinking this pretty much proved his point.
Jon grabbed Brendon and settled down on the sofa with him in his lap. Ryan climbed up onto the window seat and pressed his face against the glass.
"They got rid of the drunk guy."
Jon didn't have a clue what Ryan was talking about. Brendon was still sniffling into his shirt.
"You want to tell me what happened, sport?"
Brendon's eyes got huge and his lip wobbled again. "Ryan said there was no such thing as Santa Claus."
Ryan looked over his shoulder and shrugged his shoulders at Jon. "Someone had to tell him."
****
Spencer was going to be so fired.
"Relax, Smith. I know what I'm doing."
Spencer groaned. "Mr. Wentz, as much as I appreciate your help..."
"Is this because I don't have a beard?"
"Well," Spencer hummed, "You're certainly not a typical Santa Claus."
Wentz nodded as though he heard that sort of thing every day. "Wait until I get into the suit."
Spencer thought the suit was going to look ridiculous. The guy was tiny. "I very much doubt the suit is going to fit."
"I have my own suit."
***
Jon thought he managed to hide his surprise rather well.
"Santa Claus does exist."
Ryan still looked skeptical but Brendon brightened immediately. "Really? Really Jon?"
"Yes really," Jon laughed and started to tickle Brendon. "Would I lie to you?"
Brendon shook his head and then giggled and screamed as Jon tossed him over his shoulder and started to run around the living room.
Ryan watched them quietly for a while, occasionally looking back over his shoulder out of the window.
"What time is your mom picking you up Brendon?" Jon asked and then looked around the room as though coming to a realisation. "Where the hell is Greta?"
Brendon bit his lip. "Jon. You said a bad word."
Ryan saved him. "She had to leave. Spencer was supposed to be back by now."
"She shouldn't leave you alone," Jon protested, swinging Brendon around by the arms. "Why didn't you call your dad? Why didn't you come and get me?"
"We were watching the parade, Jon. I knew Spencer was having trouble because of the drunken Santa." At this, Ryan pointed out the window and Jon dragged Brendon, still giggling, over to see what Ryan was pointing at.
"He's been worried about this parade for a month. I didn't want to make him worried about us too. We were fine until Brendon started crying."
Brendon let go of Jon's hands and climbed up next to Ryan on the window seat. "That was your fault. I bet you're on the naughty list."
Ryan heaved a sigh and shook his head. "There's no such thing. Spencer bought me some new clothes and a dozen books, and I think he bought me a train set we looked at last week, even though I told him I didn't need it."
"Well maybe Santa Claus will bring you something else," Jon said, taking a seat between the two boys.
Ryan shrugged, not wanting Brendon to start crying again, but cupped his hands around Jon's ear and whispered, "Spencer told me the truth."
Jon winced and wrapped his arm around Ryan as the parade started.
***
Spencer would never be able to tell anyone how it happened, but one minute Pete Wentz was standing in front of him wearing a hoodie and eyeliner, and the next he was Santa Claus. Or as close as you could get to Santa Claus, since Santa Claus was a fictional character and Pete Wentz was definitely a real live person. Gone was the tiny, skinny guy with tattoos and a grin that took up half his face, and in his place, stood a portly older man with a huge white beard, in a red suit and hat with gleaming buttons and shiny black boots.
"Mr. Wentz?"
"Good, isn't it?" Santa said, and the voice was definitely still Pete. "Do I get the job?"
Spencer couldn't have found a better looking Santa Claus in a million years. He pushed Pete towards the sleigh. "After the parade, I need you to sign a contract," he said, hoping that was enough time to run all the checks that needed to be done. "Pete Wentz? Is that your full name?"
Pete reached into the pocket of his Santa suit and pulled out a business card. "Everything you need is on there."
***
It was late when Spencer finally arrived home. The warmth of the apartment hit him as soon as he opened the door and he smiled.
"Hello? Ryan? Greta? I brought dinner." There was no answer.
Stepping into the living room, Spencer saw a note on the coffee table in Ryan's neat and careful handwriting.
Spencer,
Mr. Walker invited us for Thanksgiving dinner. I told him you were bringing take-out but he said that wasn't a proper way to celebrate Thanksgiving. Greta had to leave early and Brendon's mom just came to pick him up.
If it's too late when you get back, I hope the parade went well.
Ryan
Every word felt like a punch to the stomach, even though Spencer knew that's not how Ryan had intended it. He checked he had his keys and all but ran next door to Jon's apartment.
The door swung open after his first sharp knock, and Spencer was struck, not for the first time, by just how incredible Jon Walker looked when he smiled.
"Spencer," Jon greeted him, tugging him quickly inside. "You're just in time for dinner."
"Ryan..?"
"Is setting the table," Jon told him, nodding towards the dining room. "Would you like some wine?"
Spencer shook his head, already heading in the direction Jon had indicated. "I don't drink."
Ryan was setting the table just as Jon said, kneeling up on one of the chairs to straighten the centerpiece. What Spencer wanted to do was take the few steps across the room, scoop Ryan up into his arms and hug him tightly. What was stopping him was Ryan himself. Ryan didn't hug. He allowed Spencer a certain amount of fatherly affection, but he'd only just stopped correcting people when they called Spencer his father. Spencer didn't want to push it.
"Hey," Spencer finally said, still rooted in the doorway. He was blessed with Ryan turning enough to give him his brightest smile. It had taken months for Spencer to recognize it for what it was. "Is Jon taking care of you?"
Ryan jumped down from the chair and walked closer to Spencer, nodding. "Yes. How was the parade? We saw the drunk Santa Claus. He made Brendon cry."
Jon appeared at Spencer's shoulder, carrying two dishes piled high with vegetables. "Who made Brendon cry?"
Ryan blushed and Spencer took the opportunity of moving out of Jon's way to lift Ryan into his arms. "You made Brendon cry?"
Ryan's hands clenched reflexively on Spencer's shoulders and he fidgeted for a moment before he stilled. "I just told him there was no Santa Claus. It's not my fault he had to be a baby about it."
Jon made a weird huffing noise, but thankfully didn't say anything. It wasn't any of his business what Ryan believed.
"Well, you shouldn't tell other children that," Spencer said gently, hoping that Brendon hadn't be too upset by the whole thing. "It's something we all have to learn for ourselves."
Ryan shrugged, which Spencer took to mean agreement. "Jon told him it wasn't true anyway."
"I believe in Santa Claus," Jon said easily, when they both turned their attention to him. "Please sit, I just have to get the turkey."
Jon disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Spencer deposited Ryan on a chair at the table and went to help.
Three Weeks to Christmas
Jon hadn't told Ryan where they were going when he'd bundled him into his coat that morning, but he'd been smiling a small, secret smile for the whole walk. When they arrived at Macy's, Ryan was slightly disappointed.
"You said we were going somewhere cool," he said, when Jon pushed open the door and ushered Ryan through it.
"This is cool," Jon replied, taking hold of Ryan's hand again and squeezing it. "Stay close okay?"
"This is where Spencer works, Jon," Ryan pointed out, in case Jon had somehow forgotten. "He hates it here. It's boring." He looked up at the Christmas decorations in the same distracted way he always had. "Which is too bad since he's here most of the time."
Jon glanced down at Ryan. "Ryan, Spencer is..."
Ryan heaved a heavy sigh. "You don't have to explain, Jon. It's not Spencer's fault." They stepped off the escalator and were, all of a sudden, confronted with the toy department, which had been transformed into a winter wonderland, with Santa's grotto, pride of place in the center. "What are we doing here?"
"I thought it was time you met Santa," Jon said with a grin as they joined the short line of children. "I know you said you don't believe in him but, if there is a Santa Claus, you don't want to hurt his feelings do you?"
Ryan stared up at Jon as though he had two heads. "If there is a Santa Claus, what's he doing working at Macy's?"
Jon was saved from answering by the bored looking elf girl who waved them through the gate towards Santa.
Santa scooped Ryan up into his lap and grinned. "Hello Ryan."
Ryan's face registered surprise then settled into a wary frown. "How do you know my name?"
"I know everything," Santa whispered. "I'm Santa Claus." He laughed and bounced Ryan a little on his knee.
"Oh," Ryan said, his face clearing all of a sudden. "You know Spencer."
"That is true," Santa said sounding slightly dejected. "But I am Santa Claus, all the same."
Ryan's smile was polite but it was obvious to everyone he wasn't convinced. "Your costume is very good. Spencer says you don't look anything like this without it."
Santa's eyes twinkled and he laughed again. "Your dad is right about that." He turned his attention to Jon and gave him an appraising look. "And who is this?"
"Oh, this is Mr. Walker," Ryan said, waving for Jon to step closer. "He lives next door to us."
Jon held up his hand friendly salute. "Pleased to meet you, Santa."
"Well, Ryan," Santa said, turning his attention away from Jon. "What would you like for Christmas?"
"Nothing thank you," Ryan answered. "Spencer has bought me all the things I need." He stiffened slightly, his eyes suddenly fixed on a point past Santa's shoulder. "Hi, Spencer."
Santa and Jon both looked in the direction Ryan was staring.
"What's going on?" Spencer asked as he approached. "Ryan...?"
"Jon brought me to meet Santa," Ryan explained as he slid off Santa's lap. "It was nice to meet you. You really are the best looking Santa I've ever seen."
"Thank you, Ryan," Santa said with a smile. He looked as though he wanted to say more but Spencer's frosty glare kept everyone quiet.
***
Spencer picked up Ryan and carried him back through the store to his office, with Jon trailing behind, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"We can't talk about this here," Spencer hissed at Jon, once Ryan was safely occupied with a book.
Jon grinned that ridiculous grin of his and nodded his agreement. "Excellent. We'll have dinner at seven and discuss the whole thing."
"I don't know, Jon," Spencer sighed, glancing back towards Ryan. "Things are just settling down for us. It's almost Christmas."
"Tomorrow then. One night. Please."
"I don't know if Greta's available..."
"I'll handle it. Just say yes."
Spencer nodded, not reluctantly. He knew he'd be fooling himself if he pretended he wasn't attracted to Jon. There'd been something between them from their first meeting and Jon had always kept the flirting light and backed off as soon as Spencer bristled in any way. If it wasn't for Ryan, Spencer was sure they'd have been together already. But the fact remained, there was Ryan and he'd been through a lot and Spencer didn't want to force any added complications into the mix. Maybe in a couple of years, if Jon was still single... And that was where Spencer's reasoning came to a crashing halt, because there was no way Jon would be single in two years. Spencer was lucky there'd been no one in six months. Of course Jon would get tired of waiting and find someone perfect. That was fine. Spencer had Ryan to think about.
"Yes."
***
Jon passed Santa's grotto on his way out of the store. The line of children had vanished and in their place was a sign that read Santa is feeding his reindeer. Back at 2pm.
"Mr. Walker," a voice called out before he stepped onto the escalator, stopping him in his tracks. The voice sounded like the store Santa Claus, but when Jon turned around, he couldn't see him anywhere. "Jon!" the voice called out again, and this time it was accompanied by a guy, a few years older than Jon, wearing eyeliner and skinny jeans, jumping up and down. "Wait up!"
Jon stayed where he was, staring in shock at the sight of the store Santa Claus, obviously out of his costume, looking nothing like the man who had bounced Ryan on his knee an hour earlier. Ryan was right, it really was the best Santa costume in the world.
"Thanks, man," Santa grinned when he got close enough to grab Jon's arm and pull him onto the escalator. "I thought we could have lunch and talk. You can tell me what's going on between you and Smith."
***
Ryan waited as patiently as he could for Spencer to finish up and take him home, but when the phone rang for the fourth time and Spencer said, "Just two more minutes. I'm sorry," before answering, Ryan gave up. He'd finished his book soon after the second phone call and there was nothing in Spencer's office to keep him occupied, so as soon as he was sure Spencer wasn't paying attention, Ryan slipped out of his office and down the corridor to the store, and out into the children's department.
There as a longer line of children waiting to see Santa and Ryan drifted in that direction, knowing Spencer would be able to spot him easily and that there were plenty of staff members around who recognized him.
As the next girl made her way towards Santa, her mother stepped forward and placed her hand on Santa's arm. "She's deaf," the woman said simply, as Santa lifted the girl into his lap. You don't have to say anything. She just wanted to meet you and get a photo."
The little girl smiled a wide, gap-toothed grin and Santa seemed to be struck for a moment before he settled the girl carefully on his knees and raised his hands to greet her with sign-language. The girl and her mother were overjoyed, and Ryan sat mesmerized. How many department store Santa's knew sign-language? And he had known Ryan's name earlier, though Ryan couldn't imagine Spencer talking about him with a stranger. The little girl hugged Santa and Santa hugged her back, promising her the doll she wanted for Christmas.
Maybe, Ryan thought, maybe his father had been wrong. He bit his lip, feeling immediately guilty. His father couldn't have been wrong. It wasn't fair to think such things when he couldn't explain himself.
A hand clamped down desperately on his shoulder and Ryan turned his head in time to see the frantic look on Spencer's face before he was gathered up into Spencer's arms. He stayed still, as always, but wrapped his arms around Spencer's shoulders to steady himself.
"Don't do that again," Spencer was saying fiercely in his ear, as he stroked Ryan's hair. "Don't ever run away."
Ryan wanted to say that he hadn't been running away, but as Spencer squeezed him tighter, it suddenly felt like the wrong time to say anything at all.
***
Greta wasn't available to babysit. Spencer told himself it was all for the best, but couldn't help putting on his favorite sweater and best jeans, so that when Jon rang the doorbell at seven that evening, he looked good even as he went to turn Jon down.
It wasn't just Jon at the door though.
"You said you didn't know if Greta was free," Jon said immediately, upon seeing Spencer's face. "So I thought, who better to look after Ryan, than Santa Claus."
Pete was standing next to Jon, wearing a bright purple hoodie with faux-fur trim. "You've already checked my references," he said by way of a greeting and stepped inside, pushing Spencer gently out into the hall at the same time. "You kids have fun." With that, he tossed Spencer a coat and his keys, and closed the door behind them.
Jon took hold of Spencer's hand and squeezed it. "I've been waiting six months for this Smith. You're not escaping this time."
***
"Alright, kid," Pete said, throwing himself down on the sofa next to Ryan. "What are we doing tonight? Baking cookies? Watching Christmas movies?"
Ryan narrowed his eyes at him. "Where's Spencer?"
"Spencer is having dinner with Jon and Greta couldn't make it," Pete told him, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table. "So it's just you and me."
One of Ryan's eyebrows inched upwards of its own accord. "Who are you?"
Pete threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, of course. Well, I'm Pete Wentz, but you'll know me as Santa Claus."
***
"So what exactly do you have against Santa Claus?" Jon asked, half way through dessert.
Spencer wasn't at all ready for the question and choked slightly on his cheesecake, prompting Jon to pat him gently on the back until Spencer had managed to sip down some of his wine. Spencer couldn't fail to notice that Jon didn't remove his hand.
"I have nothing against Santa Claus," Spencer protested. "You think I told Ryan there was no such thing? He's six years old."
"But..."
Spencer sighed. "Ryan's mom left him and his father four months after Ryan was born. She left them on Christmas Eve. Ryan's dad did the best he could, but he couldn't celebrate Christmas after that, not even for Ryan. I think, the last Christmas they had together, he told Ryan that there was no Santa Claus and Ryan has kept that with him ever since. Everyone I talked to, Social Services, the adoption agency, psychiatrists, they all told me to let him do things his way, to give him boundaries but not try and force anything on him. This seems important to him. I just want him to be happy."
Jon stared at Spencer the whole time he was talking and, as soon as Spencer was finished, Jon leaned across the tiny distance between them and kissed him.
***
"Can I ask you something?" Pete said as he tucked Ryan up in bed that night.
They'd watched A Muppet Family Christmas and Ryan had giggled into a cushion all the way through, completely failing to hide his amusement from Pete like he'd hoped. Then they'd baked cookies and settled down to watch It's a Wonderful Life. It was Pete this time, who had failed to hide his tears from Ryan.
"Of course," Ryan said now, as Pete switched on the night light and sat down at the side of the bed.
"Why do you call your dad Spencer?"
For a moment, Ryan looked terrified, but he managed to compose himself, turning his attention to the ceiling. "Because Spencer's not my dad. I mean, he adopted me. My dad died a couple of years ago. I don't remember much about him. He told me about Santa Claus though. About how he didn't exist. He never liked Christmas much. My mom left us the Christmas after I was born."
Ryan could feel Pete's eyes on him and rolled away, onto his side, so he wouldn't have to face him. "Good night, Mr. Wentz."
Pete stood and brushed his hand over Ryan's hair once. "Good night, Ryan," he murmured as he closed the door behind him.
***
Spencer and Jon arrived home just before midnight. Spencer hesitated outside Jon's door, but continued on towards his own apartment with a smile.
"Goodnight, Jon."
"Wait," Jon said, catching Spencer's wrist and pulling him back towards him. "No goodnight kiss?" He dipped his head and caught Spencer's lips again, smiling against them when he felt Spencer melt a little, against him.
"Jon," Spencer moaned, pushing Jon back and stepping away again. "We can't. I have to think about what's best for Ryan. I do care about you an awful lot, but he needs stability right now and I'm not sure that this, between us..."
"Spencer," Jon interrupted, closing the distance between them again. "I want you..."
Spencer held up his hand and shook his head. "I can't do that. It's not fair to him and... In the long run, it wouldn't be fair to you either." He opened the door to his apartment in one single swift motion and disappeared inside before Jon had a chance to protest.
One week to Christmas
Brendon's mother was nice, in a sort of efficient motherly way that Ryan had never really known. She smelled of cookies and hummed Christmas carols while they walked. Her hand was warm and large around Ryan's as they walked through Macy's towards the children's floor.
She wasn't Jon, however.
It had been twelve days since Spencer had announced that they'd both be spending a lot less time with Mr. Waker, and concentrate instead on being closer as a family. Ryan had wanted to ask what had happened between Spencer and Jon, but Spencer had looked so sad and lost at the time, that Ryan had simply nodded and asked if they could read some more of the Harry Potter book they were half way through.
Now, as they stood in line to see Santa, Ryan couldn't help but think of doing the same thing with Jon two weeks previously. Pete looked exactly like Santa Claus and nothing like he had when he'd babysat for Ryan. It had been playing on Ryan's mind almost as much as the Jon situation.
Brendon was chattering excitedly next to him, but Ryan as always, was paying as little attention as possible. It wasn't that he didn't like Brendon. In fact, Brendon was probably Ryan's best friend in the whole world. But Brendon tended to talk a lot and Ryan just preferred the quiet.
They reached the front of the line relatively quickly and Pete waved at Ryan, beckoning them closer. He pulled Brendon up onto his knee and let Ryan remain standing at his side.
"Brendon," Pete greeted, again without any prompting, adding to Ryan's growing list of evidence. "How are you, buddy? You've been a good boy this year."
"Thank you, Sir," Brendon said quickly, smiling as brightly as Ryan had ever seen. "Are you really Santa Claus? Because my friend Ryan said you weren't."
Pete looked over at Ryan and winked. "Oh I know Ryan," he said with a secret smile of his own. "What do you think Ryan? Am I Santa Claus?"
Ryan was caught, unsure exactly how to answer. Brendon bounced eagerly on Pete's knee, huge eyes pleading with Ryan to say...
"Yes. Yes of course he's Santa Claus."
Brendon laughed and wrapped his arms around Pete. "Did you get my letter?"
"I sure did," Pete answered, ruffling Brendon's hair. "If you're a good boy until Christmas Day, that guitar will be waiting for you, just as you wished."
If it was possible, Brendon's eyes widened even more. "Thank you Santa. Merry Christmas to you." He hopped down from Pete's knee and tugged on Ryan's sleeve. "Now you."
Ryan wasn't sure whether he wanted to or not, but he remembered Spencer's words of the previous evening and finally relented, allowing Pete to pull him up into his lap.
"Spencer says I should ask you for something I'd never ask him for," Ryan told Pete bluntly. "That way, if I wake up on Christmas morning and its there, I'll know the truth."
Pete looked a little bit nervous. "Ryan, I'm not sure..."
"So I'm going to," Ryan plowed on, determinedly. He took a deep breath. "I want a family. I want two parents and a big house in the country where we live. And a dog." He bit his lip and then very slowly reached up to whisper one final thing in Pete's ear. "Can you do that?"
Pete nodded, thinking it over. "Well, you'll have to wait and see, won't you?" He smiled and helped Ryan down. "I will do my very best for you, Ryan. I promise."
Christmas Eve
"Where are we going?" Ryan yawned, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as Spencer carried him to the car, on Christmas Eve morning.
It was insanely early and Spencer had balked at the idea of working on Christmas Eve, his first Christmas Eve with Ryan, until Eric had mentioned overtime and Spencer had immediately thought "college fund". So they were headed to the company house, the one right out in the middle of nowhere, where they were going to take pictures with the company photographer, for next year's Christmas catalogue.
Spencer settled Ryan in the car and started the three hour drive, out to the house. "We're going to the catalogue house. Shane's meeting us there. You remember Shane?"
Spencer had worked with Shane a couple of times since he'd moved to Chicago. He was very professional and Spencer hoped it wouldn't take long to get what they needed and get home again.
***
It had been three weeks since Jon had seen Spencer and Ryan. Every day he'd stopped himself walking the few feet down the hall and demanding that Spencer stop being such an idiot. What did he know? Maybe Spencer was right. Maybe they just weren't meant to be together.
He sat on the front porch of the beautiful old house, waiting patiently for someone to arrive. Shane had been very vague on the phone, muttering something about a family emergency and urgent photos and a bonus, "a big bonus", for Jon if he took the job. He'd agreed more for something to do than anything altruistic.
A car turned onto the drive a moment later and he sighed with some relief, that he'd finally be able to escape the cold. He ran down the porch steps to greet Shane's clients, only then realizing that, that was Spencer's car.
"Jon?" Spencer asked, upon climbing out of the car. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Jon replied, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. He smiled hopefully. "Shane had an emergency."
Ryan pushed the car door open with both hands and jumped out, smiling rather more than was usual. "Jon, you're here."
Jon laughed. "I sure am, kiddo," he said, and knelt down next to Ryan. "I missed you."
Spencer cleared his throat before Ryan could answer and Jon stood up again quickly.
"We just need some photos for the Christmas catalogue," Spencer announced, taking Ryan's hand and fishing the house keys out of his coat pocket at the same time. "You've seen one right? You know the sort of thing?"
Jon sighed, but turned to follow Spencer with a nod. "I know."
"Excellent. Then this should only take a couple of hours."
***
It started snowing thirty minutes after they'd arrived and it only got worse in the following hours. By lunchtime the drive was totally covered and Spencer's frantic calls to traffic hotlines had brought the information that the highway was closed and it was too dangerous to travel.
"There's plenty of food in the kitchen," Jon announced, setting three cups of hot chocolate down on the coffee table, in the living room. "And the beds are made up. Are you sure someone doesn't just live here?"
"No one lives here," Spencer answered, distractedly. "What if we can't get home?"
"Well that was kind of my point," Jon said with a smile. "We have enough to see us through for a week if we need to stay." He glanced back towards the window. "I think we're going to need to stay."
Ryan didn't seem to mind. The house had a huge library, with more books than Ryan had ever seen outside a bookstore. He'd grabbed the first one that looked interesting and allowed Spencer to wrap him up in a blanket and settle him in an armchair, in front of the fire in the living room.
Spencer and Jon were sharing the sofa, their voices low so as not to worry Ryan too much.
"I missed you too," Jon said into the silence, late in the afternoon, once Ryan had started to drift off to sleep. "You and Ryan. Both." He winced at his own clumsy wording. "I didn't think you wanted me gone from your life so badly."
"I didn't," Spencer told him honestly. "I've missed having you around. And Ryan misses you too. All the time. Of course he doesn't say it..."
"He's a good kid," Jon said, smiling fondly across at Ryan. The book was starting to slip from his hands.
Spencer stood and gathered Ryan up in his arms. "I'll take him up to bed."
Jon nodded in agreement. "I'll make us some food."
***
Dinner was a success, but there was very little you could get wrong with grilled cheese. Jon said as much when Spencer congratulated him for the magnificent feast.
"Are you mocking me?"
"Only a little," Spencer laughed as they began to clear up. "You should be careful though. I could get used to that sort of treatment."
Jon fell silent and Spencer cursed himself for being so stupid.
"You wash," Jon said to break the tension, tossing a dishcloth at Spencer. "I'll dry."
They worked in silence for a while until the majority of the dishes and cups were cleaned away. Spencer flicked the coffee-maker on again.
"Maybe there's a Christmas movie on we could watch," he said, trying to keep things light. He glanced in Jon's direction, but Jon was a lot closer than Spencer had been expecting. "Hi."
Jon leaned in, trapping Spencer between him and the kitchen counter. He pushed his hips slowly and very deliberately against Spencer's, then bent his head forward to kiss him.
Spencer's arms wrapped around Jon's shoulders of their own accord and he kissed back with all the heat and desire he'd been storing up for the last six months.
"I want to marry you," Jon said between kisses, resisting the insistent pull of Spencer's hands on his head. "I want us to be a family. You and me and Ryan..."
"Okay," Spencer agreed breathlessly. "More kissing though."
Jon couldn't really argue with that.
***
It was only later, much later, as Jon and Spencer made their way up to bed, hand in hand, that Spencer spotted the envelope with their names on it, sitting on the hall table.
"Was that there when we got he?" Jon asked, frowning. He looked at the door and back at the table, trying to remember.
Spencer shrugged and opened the envelope, to find a simple note written in gold ink.
Dear Spencer & Jon (& Ryan too)
I took the liberty of informing your superiors that they could dispense with a monetary bonus this year. I thought this house would suit your new family a great deal more.
Enjoy your first Christmas together, my dear friends.
Love always,
Pete
Christmas Day
Ryan woke up to a strange snuffling noise, that got louder and louder until finally, Ryan couldn't hear anything but what seemed to be... panting?
He opened his eyes at the first lick on a tongue on his ear, terror streaking through him, until he turned his head and found himself face-to-face with a beagle puppy. He laughed, loud and happy, and the dog barked in return.
"Oh my gosh." Ryan pushed himself up so he was sitting, giggling in surprise and delight when the puppy stepped gingerly on his knees and proceeded to lick his face.
The door opened suddenly and Spencer was half way into the room, before the sight of Ryan and the puppy stopped him short. "Ryan? Ryan are you..?" He trailed off and stared. "What the he...?"
"Dad!" Ryan shouted, excitement making him almost giddy with delight. "Dad, this is the best... how did you...?"
It was Ryan's turn to stop as his words caught up with him. He looked at Spencer warily, feelings of guilt and happiness both welling inside him.
Spencer in turn was staring at Ryan with adoration. "You called me..."
"I don't have to," Ryan said quickly. "If you'd rather I didn't..."
"No, no," Spencer interrupted, stumbling the last few steps to Ryan's bed and sinking down onto it thankfully. "That's all I've wanted." He reached out hesitantly towards Ryan, wondering if he could risk a hug. Ryan buried his face into the puppy's fur and mumbled against it. Spencer had to listen extra hard to make out the words.
"I don't want to forget him. I thought, if I called you dad, it would mean I didn't think of him that way." He looked up at Spencer then. "But that doesn't have to be true right?"
Spencer shook his head and lifted Ryan up, out of the bed, away from the puppy, until he was cradled against Spencer's chest. "He will always be your dad. I would just very much like that honor too."
Ryan sniffed and Spencer kindly pretended not to hear, rocking Ryan gently until he composed himself and hugged Spencer back.
That was how Jon found them twenty minutes later, when the barking had gone on so long that each of Spencer and Ryan's shushes simply made them burst out laughing.
"What on earth is going on in here?" he asked, wasting no time in climbing up onto the bed with them. He wrapped his arms around them both and leaned his head against Spencer's, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I didn't know we had a dog."
"Oh my gosh," Ryan said again, pulling back enough that he could point at Jon and Spencer. "You two... You... Did you?"
"Oh yeah," Spencer murmured and blushed. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about that."
"You don't have to," Ryan said. He got to his feet and started to jump up and down on the bed. "I knew it. I knew it. Pete is Santa Claus. I asked him for two parents, and a house, and a dog. And he got them for me. Well not the other thing, but I guess I can wait for that. So he is Santa Claus, right?"
Spencer looked at Jon, who had lifted the puppy into his arms and was talking the most ridiculous baby-talk to it, and then at Ryan, still bouncing and laughing on the bed.
"I think you might be right, Ryan. I think Santa Claus really does exist."
Epilogue
Santa's workshop was silent. The elves were off celebrating the holiday season with their one day of rest.
Out of the darkness came the jingle of bells and the sound of Santa's booming laughter, calming Patrick who had been waiting by the open door for hours. The snow was falling heavily and Patrick had been getting worried.
"Pete!" Patrick ran towards the sleigh as the reindeer landed and trotted for the warmth of the stables. "Pete, thank goodness." He threw himself onto Pete as he stepped down from the sleigh and hugged him tight.
Pete laughed and kissed Patrick's nose. "Were you worried? You know there's no need for it. Those reindeer could get through anything."
"I always worry," Patrick told him, stepping away. He unfastened the harness from the sleigh and freed the reindeer to their warm beds and piles of food. "How was it this year?"
"It was wonderful," Pete beamed. "I feel like I could sleep for a week though."
Patrick smiled and took Pete's hand, tugging him gently towards the house, while Pete yawned and stretched. He fell down onto the bed once they reached their room, his appearance changing instantly, from old to young. Patrick started to carefully remove Pete's clothes. "What about Ryan and Spencer? Did you fix them?"
Pete grinned widely and slid beneath the covers, tugging Patrick down beside them.
"Of course I did," he murmured against Patrick's hair. "And they live happily ever after."