"First Christmas"
Title: First Christmas
Pairing: Mark/Scott
Rating/genre: R, just to be safe, slash
Prompt: First Christmas
Spoilers: none
Words: 1300
Disclaimer: This story was written for fun, not for profit. I own nothing.
Summary: It's Christmas and money is tight.
Notes: Written for Fest08 at smallfandomfest.
Mark stood in the middle of the tiny living room, hands on his hips, and examined his handiwork. Stockings? Check. One very small Christmas tree? Check. Paper snowflakes on the window? Check. Gift for Scott? Not so checked.
They had agreed not to buy presents for one another. Money was tight and anyway, Scott said he didn’t really care for Christmas. He and his father hadn’t done much by way of celebrating since his mother died, and he couldn’t see the point of shopping for presents just to have presents.
They’d talked about it, late last night. Mark had told Scott about the Christmases he’d had as a kid. There wasn’t much money, but their parents had managed to make the day special. He and Paul had a few presents, but it was the laughter and the cooking and baking and his father trying to sing Christmas songs in a Dean Martin voice that made the day so special. Of course, all that changed after his dad died. The celebrations were subdued and became more obligation than celebration. And once Mark himself had gotten involved with drugs and booze, the Christmases stopped altogether.
Scott remembered good Christmases, too, but after his mother died, he and his father didn’t acknowledge the day except to go to church.
“My mother was the one who put it all together,” Scott had said as he held Mark in his arms. “I knew that, and I think Dad did, too.” He kissed the top of Mark’s head, then pressed his cheek against Mark’s hair. “Going through the motions, pretending we were happy - it all seemed so useless.”
They’d gone to sleep on that depressing thought, but when Mark got up the next day he decided that enough was enough - for both of them. They’d loved Christmas when they were kids, and there was no reason not to recapture those days. So, after Scott went off to work, Mark got busy.
A quick trip to the local discount store resulted in a tiny artificial tree and a string of colored lights, a couple of felt stockings and a cheap package of copy paper. It took no time at all to put up the little tree and light it, and a piece of aluminum foil, artfully folded, made a nice star. The paper snowflakes were fun to make and looked good taped to the living room windows. The stockings were nailed to the outside of the bedroom door and actually didn’t look as cheap as he’d feared they would.
But there was still the matter of a present. Scott had said he didn’t want one.
“No presents unless you have coupons for them,” Scott had said, and they both laughed at his joke.
Mark sprawled on the sofa and stared at the tree, mesmerized by the blinking lights. A cheap present, something that doesn’t cost much, something with a coupon …
*********
“Do you want to go to church tonight or tomorrow morning?” Scott refilled his coffee cup and returned to the kitchen table where Mark was sitting, hunched over his own cup. Scott sipped his coffee and waited. “Or we don’t have to go at all. Not if you don’t want to.”
Mark nodded. “Let’s go tonight. Then we can sleep in tomorrow.”
Scott reached over and ruffled Mark’s tousled hair. “Sounds like a plan. We could sleep the whole day away.”
“Just sleep?” Mark grinned at him and wiggled his eyebrows. “That sounds dull.”
Scott grinned, his smile lighting up his entire face. “We’ll alternate sleeping with something a little more interesting.”
Mark got up from the table and went to Scott’s chair. Standing behind it, he wrapped his arms around Scott and kissed his cheek. “I’m all for something a little more interesting right now.”
Scott laughed and tugged on Mark’s hand, pulling him from around the back of the chair and onto his lap. “Now that’s more like it,” he said as he pulled Mark in for a kiss that made him forget for a while that it was Christmas Eve.
******
“I thought we agreed not to exchange gifts,” Scott said even as he accepted the small box from Mark.
“You said we weren’t going to exchange gifts,” Mark said. He pulled the comforter up to his chest and slid closer to Scott, taking advantage of the heat that always seemed to emanate from his body. “I never agreed to that.” He elbowed Scott in the ribs. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Scott tore off the paper, then opened the lid and drew out what appeared to be a small book. “A year’s worth of savings,” he read aloud. He looked at Mark, his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
Mark watched Scott’s face as he read the little decorated book full of coupons good for back rubs, homemade dinners, trips to the movies, household chores and oil changes. His gaze widened when he came to the last one.
“Christmas Eve special. Good for a night of spectacular sex,” Scott read aloud. He ran his forefinger across the coupon, and Mark shivered as if that finger were touching him instead.
“Maybe I should cash that one in right now,” Scott said as he leaned over to kiss Mark’s shoulder. He slid one hand under the comforter and caressed Mark’s bare thigh. “We don’t have to wait for an entire year, do we?”
Mark laughed. He pushed Scott’s exploring hand away, then rolled over onto his wide chest. “Yes, we do.” He propped himself up on his hands and looked down at Scott’s smiling face. “So you like the gift, I take it?”
“I do,” Scott said. “I like that you took the time to think of it and to make it.” He flipped through the book again, then placed it on his nightstand. “I don’t have anything for you, though.”
Mark kissed Scott’s forehead, then his nose and finally, his mouth. “You’ve given me more than you think, and you give it to me every day. That’s present enough.”
Scott framed Mark’s face with his work-worn hands. “Merry Christmas, Mark,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Mark turned his head to kiss Scott’s palm. “I love you, too.” He leaned down to kiss Scott again, but Scott stopped him.
“Maybe you’d better check your stocking before we … sleep in,” Scott said. He traced Mark’s lower lip with his thumb. “Just in case Santa left anything for you.”
Mark didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled out of bed and opened the door. There was his stocking, filled to bursting. He snatched it from the door and jumped back into bed, his excitement making Scott laugh.
Candy canes, chocolates, tiny toy cars, a water pistol, a deck of cards and a half dozen other small items poured out of the stocking when Mark held it upside down.
“This is great,” he said as he unwrapped a chocolate and popped it into his mouth. “I haven’t had a stocking since I was kid.”
“You’re still a kid,” Scott said, taking a chocolate for himself.
Mark raised his eyebrows. “I am not a kid. I’m younger than you, but it’s been years since I was a kid.”
“You’re a kid in all the ways that count,” Scott said. “If it weren’t for you, this would be any other day.”
Mark leaned over and gave Scott a chocolate-flavored kiss. “I second that. If it weren’t for you, I’d have no reason to get out of bed.”
Scott pushed aside the candy and toys and pulled Mark into his arms. “You don’t have any reason to get out of bed.”
“No, I don’t,” Mark said against Scott’s lips. “But I have a lot of reasons to stay in it.”
But Scott stopped mid-kiss. “Wait. Do I need a coupon for this?”
“Nope,” Mark said. “Consider this a freebie.”
Pairing: Mark/Scott
Rating/genre: R, just to be safe, slash
Prompt: First Christmas
Spoilers: none
Words: 1300
Disclaimer: This story was written for fun, not for profit. I own nothing.
Summary: It's Christmas and money is tight.
Notes: Written for Fest08 at smallfandomfest.
Mark stood in the middle of the tiny living room, hands on his hips, and examined his handiwork. Stockings? Check. One very small Christmas tree? Check. Paper snowflakes on the window? Check. Gift for Scott? Not so checked.
They had agreed not to buy presents for one another. Money was tight and anyway, Scott said he didn’t really care for Christmas. He and his father hadn’t done much by way of celebrating since his mother died, and he couldn’t see the point of shopping for presents just to have presents.
They’d talked about it, late last night. Mark had told Scott about the Christmases he’d had as a kid. There wasn’t much money, but their parents had managed to make the day special. He and Paul had a few presents, but it was the laughter and the cooking and baking and his father trying to sing Christmas songs in a Dean Martin voice that made the day so special. Of course, all that changed after his dad died. The celebrations were subdued and became more obligation than celebration. And once Mark himself had gotten involved with drugs and booze, the Christmases stopped altogether.
Scott remembered good Christmases, too, but after his mother died, he and his father didn’t acknowledge the day except to go to church.
“My mother was the one who put it all together,” Scott had said as he held Mark in his arms. “I knew that, and I think Dad did, too.” He kissed the top of Mark’s head, then pressed his cheek against Mark’s hair. “Going through the motions, pretending we were happy - it all seemed so useless.”
They’d gone to sleep on that depressing thought, but when Mark got up the next day he decided that enough was enough - for both of them. They’d loved Christmas when they were kids, and there was no reason not to recapture those days. So, after Scott went off to work, Mark got busy.
A quick trip to the local discount store resulted in a tiny artificial tree and a string of colored lights, a couple of felt stockings and a cheap package of copy paper. It took no time at all to put up the little tree and light it, and a piece of aluminum foil, artfully folded, made a nice star. The paper snowflakes were fun to make and looked good taped to the living room windows. The stockings were nailed to the outside of the bedroom door and actually didn’t look as cheap as he’d feared they would.
But there was still the matter of a present. Scott had said he didn’t want one.
“No presents unless you have coupons for them,” Scott had said, and they both laughed at his joke.
Mark sprawled on the sofa and stared at the tree, mesmerized by the blinking lights. A cheap present, something that doesn’t cost much, something with a coupon …
*********
“Do you want to go to church tonight or tomorrow morning?” Scott refilled his coffee cup and returned to the kitchen table where Mark was sitting, hunched over his own cup. Scott sipped his coffee and waited. “Or we don’t have to go at all. Not if you don’t want to.”
Mark nodded. “Let’s go tonight. Then we can sleep in tomorrow.”
Scott reached over and ruffled Mark’s tousled hair. “Sounds like a plan. We could sleep the whole day away.”
“Just sleep?” Mark grinned at him and wiggled his eyebrows. “That sounds dull.”
Scott grinned, his smile lighting up his entire face. “We’ll alternate sleeping with something a little more interesting.”
Mark got up from the table and went to Scott’s chair. Standing behind it, he wrapped his arms around Scott and kissed his cheek. “I’m all for something a little more interesting right now.”
Scott laughed and tugged on Mark’s hand, pulling him from around the back of the chair and onto his lap. “Now that’s more like it,” he said as he pulled Mark in for a kiss that made him forget for a while that it was Christmas Eve.
******
“I thought we agreed not to exchange gifts,” Scott said even as he accepted the small box from Mark.
“You said we weren’t going to exchange gifts,” Mark said. He pulled the comforter up to his chest and slid closer to Scott, taking advantage of the heat that always seemed to emanate from his body. “I never agreed to that.” He elbowed Scott in the ribs. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Scott tore off the paper, then opened the lid and drew out what appeared to be a small book. “A year’s worth of savings,” he read aloud. He looked at Mark, his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
Mark watched Scott’s face as he read the little decorated book full of coupons good for back rubs, homemade dinners, trips to the movies, household chores and oil changes. His gaze widened when he came to the last one.
“Christmas Eve special. Good for a night of spectacular sex,” Scott read aloud. He ran his forefinger across the coupon, and Mark shivered as if that finger were touching him instead.
“Maybe I should cash that one in right now,” Scott said as he leaned over to kiss Mark’s shoulder. He slid one hand under the comforter and caressed Mark’s bare thigh. “We don’t have to wait for an entire year, do we?”
Mark laughed. He pushed Scott’s exploring hand away, then rolled over onto his wide chest. “Yes, we do.” He propped himself up on his hands and looked down at Scott’s smiling face. “So you like the gift, I take it?”
“I do,” Scott said. “I like that you took the time to think of it and to make it.” He flipped through the book again, then placed it on his nightstand. “I don’t have anything for you, though.”
Mark kissed Scott’s forehead, then his nose and finally, his mouth. “You’ve given me more than you think, and you give it to me every day. That’s present enough.”
Scott framed Mark’s face with his work-worn hands. “Merry Christmas, Mark,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Mark turned his head to kiss Scott’s palm. “I love you, too.” He leaned down to kiss Scott again, but Scott stopped him.
“Maybe you’d better check your stocking before we … sleep in,” Scott said. He traced Mark’s lower lip with his thumb. “Just in case Santa left anything for you.”
Mark didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled out of bed and opened the door. There was his stocking, filled to bursting. He snatched it from the door and jumped back into bed, his excitement making Scott laugh.
Candy canes, chocolates, tiny toy cars, a water pistol, a deck of cards and a half dozen other small items poured out of the stocking when Mark held it upside down.
“This is great,” he said as he unwrapped a chocolate and popped it into his mouth. “I haven’t had a stocking since I was kid.”
“You’re still a kid,” Scott said, taking a chocolate for himself.
Mark raised his eyebrows. “I am not a kid. I’m younger than you, but it’s been years since I was a kid.”
“You’re a kid in all the ways that count,” Scott said. “If it weren’t for you, this would be any other day.”
Mark leaned over and gave Scott a chocolate-flavored kiss. “I second that. If it weren’t for you, I’d have no reason to get out of bed.”
Scott pushed aside the candy and toys and pulled Mark into his arms. “You don’t have any reason to get out of bed.”
“No, I don’t,” Mark said against Scott’s lips. “But I have a lot of reasons to stay in it.”
But Scott stopped mid-kiss. “Wait. Do I need a coupon for this?”
“Nope,” Mark said. “Consider this a freebie.”