Christmas Time Has Come Again
Title: Christmas Time Has Come Again
Bandom: Avenged Sevenfold
Pairing: Jimmy/Johnny
Rating: PG
Summary: Jimmy was never a big fan of Christmas time.
Dedications: Merry Christmas annabyss
Wordcount: 1,657
Jimmy had never been a big fan of Christmas time.
Well, that wasn’t true. As a child, he’d loved it just as much as the next kid. He could remember making Gingerbread houses with his mom every year. His mother would bake the bread herself and the whole house would smell of spice and ginger for days. The frosting was always sweet and Jimmy would spend more time licking the sweet, stickiness from his fingers than using it for glue to keep the roof on. Redhots and licorice and gumdrops and lemon drops and every other sugar covered sweet you could think of would be used to make the house beautiful and colorful.
He could remember going out on December 1st, whether it be snowing like the dickens or not, with his dad to find the perfect Christmas tree. He could remember being five or six and riding on his dad’s shoulders as they walked past dozens upon dozens of trees until they found just the right one. It had to be a perfect shade of dark green, nice and full with sharp needles and that fresh pine smell. They’d haul it back home to where Jimmy’s mother would be waiting with cups of hot chocolate that overflowed with marshmallows. Jimmy would make strings with popcorn and make chains out of brightly colored construction paper to hand around the tree. His mother would hang the glossy ornaments, ones that sparkled and gleamed and Jimmy would peer into them and see his warped reflection and giggle. His dad would put the star on the top and they’d turn all the lights on and it’d take Jimmy’s breath away every time.
He’d go to sleep real early Christmas Eve. His mother would read him The Night Before Christmas and kiss his hair and he’d wake up at least once to sneak downstairs to check on the cookies and milk. In the morning he’d awake to a stocking stuffed full and presents wrapped in bright, shiny paper with big bows.
But that was before. Before his father lost his job and started drinking, before all the fighting, before the divorce. Before his mother got sick, before his father took off. Before he was all alone.
He changed foster homes so often, none ever felt like home. Most of them would decorate for Christmas, a wreath or a cheap tree from the closest general store, and almost all of them would give out at least a few presents. It was always something small and most often something practical: warm socks, knitted scarves from the old ladies at the nursing home, gloves and coats donated by the local elementary school. They were rarely meaningful and even if they were, the older kids would steal them away anyway.
Christmas quickly became a time to dread. It meant constant reminders of everything he didn’t have and happy, perfect families wherever he looked. It meant there was a Santa ringing a bell at every store entrance, holding more money in a little red pail than Jimmy could hope for in a month. It meant he was an even bigger burden than usual and it bothered Jimmy enough to begin with, and it meant that no matter where he went, all the eyes that fell upon him took in his baggy jeans, faded shirt, and beaten up old shoes and reflected back only pity.
More than anything, Jimmy hated pity. He had no use for it, not at all.
He dropped out of school at sixteen and fell out of the foster care system two years early. He picked up a job at a laundry mat and camped out on the lumpy couch with a thin pillow and a sleeping bag for nearly eight months before he was found out and forced to leave. After that, he bought a cheap van and lived in the back of it while he worked two jobs and tried to get even slightly ahead.
The years past slowly and all Christmas meant was freezing weather and a greater chance at getting sick.
Eventually, Jimmy managed to make it to California, where at least the sun shines all year round and he’s happy that he’ll probably never have to deal with the snow again. Christmas still came once a year, but it was a lot easier to ignore it.
Jimmy met Johnny in February. Jimmy was working part time in a music store and full time at a Starbucks down the street because at least the pay was good and he got free coffee. Johnny was small and sweet faced with a broad smile and warm eyes. He wondered into Starbucks at least three times a day and Jimmy wasn’t sure if he should be amused or concerned by the boy’s obvious addiction to coffee. He hung out with the same group of guys, two well built dudes and a third one that was small and delicate like Johnny, all of them dressed in various layers of black and various degrees of tight jeans. They were always laughing and joking and it made Jimmy wonder what it’d be like to actually have friends.
It wasn’t until Johnny accidently dropped his coffee and got it all over Jimmy that they actually started talking. Johnny was a student at the local community college where he studied journalism with Zack -his small friend. His two other friends both studied business and they all four shared an apartment on the corner.
The next time Johnny came in for coffee, he offered to buy one for Jimmy, too. Jimmy laughed and waved him off, explaining he got his for free. Johnny had smiled bashfully and suggested a date instead. Their first date was on St. Patrick’s Day. Johnny had dyed his hair green and taken Jimmy to his favorite bar, stating it was the closest thing to a pub he’d ever found. Jimmy wasn’t about to complain.
They had moved in together by Thanksgiving. When December rolled around, Johnny invited Jimmy to come home with him. Jimmy was quick to decline, using work as an excuse. Christmas was clearly a happy time for Johnny. He sang carols in the shower and hummed Jingle Bells under his breath as he did dishes and made hot chocolate before bed every night. They hadn’t talked much about family, but Jimmy knew Johnny had caring parents who lived a few hours away, several siblings who each had a few kids that randomly called Johnny, who always grinned broadly and talked excitedly into the phone whenever it happened. Jimmy wasn’t really big on families anymore and he knew he wouldn’t fit in with Johnny’s. He really didn’t want Johnny figuring out how un-perfect Jimmy was until the last possible moment. Johnny was perfect and Jimmy was starting to suspect that that whole love thing he’d snorted at all his life was maybe something that was for real. He wasn’t looking forward to the heartbreak that always went with it.
Johnny left for his parents’ house with eyes downcast. He was clearly disappointed and Jimmy hated the guilt that pooled in his stomach. When he came back a few days before New Years, he smiled shyly and handed Jimmy a tin.
“My mom made you gingerbread cookies.”
Jimmy didn’t admit to the lump that rose in his throat at the spicy smell. Later, Johnny didn’t comment when Jimmy clung to him in their bed or when he buried his nose in Johnny’s short hair. Jimmy wondered if Johnny knew he still smelt of ginger and pine.
The next Christmas, Johnny stayed home. Jimmy didn’t say anything, though he knew Johnny’s parents were upset about his decision. Johnny himself clearly missed whatever family traditions he usually partook in, but he still stayed home and Jimmy couldn’t put into words how much that meant to him.
A week before Christmas, they spent hours wondering past dozens of trees until Johnny caught Jimmy’s gloved hand in his own and tugged him over to a tree that was somewhat lopsided and rather puny and altogether sad looking. Johnny smiled so wide Jimmy thought his face would split open.
“It’s perfect!”
Jimmy looked at Johnny and grinned back. Anything that made his Johnny beam like that was, indeed, perfect.
The next morning, Jimmy woke to the smell of ginger and spice. He followed it down to the kitchen and stared in amazement at Johnny, with an apron around his waist and his favorite slippers on his feet and a floppy Santa hat on his head, as the small man moved about the kitchen. On the table, there was frosting and licorice and gum drops and every other sugar coated sweet Jimmy could think of.
“What are you doing?” Jimmy finally asked. Johnny looked at him and grinned.
“Making a gingerbread house. Wanna help?”
Jimmy nodded and moved farther into the kitchen. He got more frosting on his hands then he did on the bread itself but he happily licked it off and giggled when Johnny took his wrist and gave him a hand in getting clean as well.
On Christmas Eve, Jimmy built up a fire in the fireplace that was almost never used. Johnny came into the room and handed Jimmy a cup of eggnog. He switched on the lights on the tree and curled up next to Jimmy. Jimmy smiled and pulled the small man’s legs over his own and wrapped a blanket around them both. It was almost hot but it only made Johnny smile. They sipped their eggnog and exchanged slow, gentle kisses. Eventually, they fell asleep on the couch and when Jimmy opened his eyes the next morning, there were presents beneath the tree with bright colored wrappings and big bows.
Jimmy had never been a big fan of Christmas time. But then Johnny came along. Johnny, Jimmy realized, was the best Christmas present he’d ever gotten.
Bandom: Avenged Sevenfold
Pairing: Jimmy/Johnny
Rating: PG
Summary: Jimmy was never a big fan of Christmas time.
Dedications: Merry Christmas annabyss
Wordcount: 1,657
Jimmy had never been a big fan of Christmas time.
Well, that wasn’t true. As a child, he’d loved it just as much as the next kid. He could remember making Gingerbread houses with his mom every year. His mother would bake the bread herself and the whole house would smell of spice and ginger for days. The frosting was always sweet and Jimmy would spend more time licking the sweet, stickiness from his fingers than using it for glue to keep the roof on. Redhots and licorice and gumdrops and lemon drops and every other sugar covered sweet you could think of would be used to make the house beautiful and colorful.
He could remember going out on December 1st, whether it be snowing like the dickens or not, with his dad to find the perfect Christmas tree. He could remember being five or six and riding on his dad’s shoulders as they walked past dozens upon dozens of trees until they found just the right one. It had to be a perfect shade of dark green, nice and full with sharp needles and that fresh pine smell. They’d haul it back home to where Jimmy’s mother would be waiting with cups of hot chocolate that overflowed with marshmallows. Jimmy would make strings with popcorn and make chains out of brightly colored construction paper to hand around the tree. His mother would hang the glossy ornaments, ones that sparkled and gleamed and Jimmy would peer into them and see his warped reflection and giggle. His dad would put the star on the top and they’d turn all the lights on and it’d take Jimmy’s breath away every time.
He’d go to sleep real early Christmas Eve. His mother would read him The Night Before Christmas and kiss his hair and he’d wake up at least once to sneak downstairs to check on the cookies and milk. In the morning he’d awake to a stocking stuffed full and presents wrapped in bright, shiny paper with big bows.
But that was before. Before his father lost his job and started drinking, before all the fighting, before the divorce. Before his mother got sick, before his father took off. Before he was all alone.
He changed foster homes so often, none ever felt like home. Most of them would decorate for Christmas, a wreath or a cheap tree from the closest general store, and almost all of them would give out at least a few presents. It was always something small and most often something practical: warm socks, knitted scarves from the old ladies at the nursing home, gloves and coats donated by the local elementary school. They were rarely meaningful and even if they were, the older kids would steal them away anyway.
Christmas quickly became a time to dread. It meant constant reminders of everything he didn’t have and happy, perfect families wherever he looked. It meant there was a Santa ringing a bell at every store entrance, holding more money in a little red pail than Jimmy could hope for in a month. It meant he was an even bigger burden than usual and it bothered Jimmy enough to begin with, and it meant that no matter where he went, all the eyes that fell upon him took in his baggy jeans, faded shirt, and beaten up old shoes and reflected back only pity.
More than anything, Jimmy hated pity. He had no use for it, not at all.
He dropped out of school at sixteen and fell out of the foster care system two years early. He picked up a job at a laundry mat and camped out on the lumpy couch with a thin pillow and a sleeping bag for nearly eight months before he was found out and forced to leave. After that, he bought a cheap van and lived in the back of it while he worked two jobs and tried to get even slightly ahead.
The years past slowly and all Christmas meant was freezing weather and a greater chance at getting sick.
Eventually, Jimmy managed to make it to California, where at least the sun shines all year round and he’s happy that he’ll probably never have to deal with the snow again. Christmas still came once a year, but it was a lot easier to ignore it.
Jimmy met Johnny in February. Jimmy was working part time in a music store and full time at a Starbucks down the street because at least the pay was good and he got free coffee. Johnny was small and sweet faced with a broad smile and warm eyes. He wondered into Starbucks at least three times a day and Jimmy wasn’t sure if he should be amused or concerned by the boy’s obvious addiction to coffee. He hung out with the same group of guys, two well built dudes and a third one that was small and delicate like Johnny, all of them dressed in various layers of black and various degrees of tight jeans. They were always laughing and joking and it made Jimmy wonder what it’d be like to actually have friends.
It wasn’t until Johnny accidently dropped his coffee and got it all over Jimmy that they actually started talking. Johnny was a student at the local community college where he studied journalism with Zack -his small friend. His two other friends both studied business and they all four shared an apartment on the corner.
The next time Johnny came in for coffee, he offered to buy one for Jimmy, too. Jimmy laughed and waved him off, explaining he got his for free. Johnny had smiled bashfully and suggested a date instead. Their first date was on St. Patrick’s Day. Johnny had dyed his hair green and taken Jimmy to his favorite bar, stating it was the closest thing to a pub he’d ever found. Jimmy wasn’t about to complain.
They had moved in together by Thanksgiving. When December rolled around, Johnny invited Jimmy to come home with him. Jimmy was quick to decline, using work as an excuse. Christmas was clearly a happy time for Johnny. He sang carols in the shower and hummed Jingle Bells under his breath as he did dishes and made hot chocolate before bed every night. They hadn’t talked much about family, but Jimmy knew Johnny had caring parents who lived a few hours away, several siblings who each had a few kids that randomly called Johnny, who always grinned broadly and talked excitedly into the phone whenever it happened. Jimmy wasn’t really big on families anymore and he knew he wouldn’t fit in with Johnny’s. He really didn’t want Johnny figuring out how un-perfect Jimmy was until the last possible moment. Johnny was perfect and Jimmy was starting to suspect that that whole love thing he’d snorted at all his life was maybe something that was for real. He wasn’t looking forward to the heartbreak that always went with it.
Johnny left for his parents’ house with eyes downcast. He was clearly disappointed and Jimmy hated the guilt that pooled in his stomach. When he came back a few days before New Years, he smiled shyly and handed Jimmy a tin.
“My mom made you gingerbread cookies.”
Jimmy didn’t admit to the lump that rose in his throat at the spicy smell. Later, Johnny didn’t comment when Jimmy clung to him in their bed or when he buried his nose in Johnny’s short hair. Jimmy wondered if Johnny knew he still smelt of ginger and pine.
The next Christmas, Johnny stayed home. Jimmy didn’t say anything, though he knew Johnny’s parents were upset about his decision. Johnny himself clearly missed whatever family traditions he usually partook in, but he still stayed home and Jimmy couldn’t put into words how much that meant to him.
A week before Christmas, they spent hours wondering past dozens of trees until Johnny caught Jimmy’s gloved hand in his own and tugged him over to a tree that was somewhat lopsided and rather puny and altogether sad looking. Johnny smiled so wide Jimmy thought his face would split open.
“It’s perfect!”
Jimmy looked at Johnny and grinned back. Anything that made his Johnny beam like that was, indeed, perfect.
The next morning, Jimmy woke to the smell of ginger and spice. He followed it down to the kitchen and stared in amazement at Johnny, with an apron around his waist and his favorite slippers on his feet and a floppy Santa hat on his head, as the small man moved about the kitchen. On the table, there was frosting and licorice and gum drops and every other sugar coated sweet Jimmy could think of.
“What are you doing?” Jimmy finally asked. Johnny looked at him and grinned.
“Making a gingerbread house. Wanna help?”
Jimmy nodded and moved farther into the kitchen. He got more frosting on his hands then he did on the bread itself but he happily licked it off and giggled when Johnny took his wrist and gave him a hand in getting clean as well.
On Christmas Eve, Jimmy built up a fire in the fireplace that was almost never used. Johnny came into the room and handed Jimmy a cup of eggnog. He switched on the lights on the tree and curled up next to Jimmy. Jimmy smiled and pulled the small man’s legs over his own and wrapped a blanket around them both. It was almost hot but it only made Johnny smile. They sipped their eggnog and exchanged slow, gentle kisses. Eventually, they fell asleep on the couch and when Jimmy opened his eyes the next morning, there were presents beneath the tree with bright colored wrappings and big bows.
Jimmy had never been a big fan of Christmas time. But then Johnny came along. Johnny, Jimmy realized, was the best Christmas present he’d ever gotten.