♛ ♕ Holiday Series 7: Providence ♕ ♛

[teromain]

Title: Providence
Author: Alyn Drasil
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 4,765
Warnings: language, un-betaed
Summary: Gavin and Cole and a whole family affair.
Notes: This is the last story planned for this series! Out of good holidays, plus I think their story is told. I will be cleaning up/editing all of the one-shots and probably releasing them in some sort of bundled up pdf/e-reader format next year.
There was also a huge continuity error in the series where Gavin’s nephew aged backwards, but at the time of the first story (Eavesdropping) he was supposed to be three, and in the last story he was mentioned in (Luck), he was supposed to be five. I’ve fixed the error in the stories but just in case someone remembered it that way.
(the little symbols up in the subject line are actually crowns but they kind of look like turkeys)



The sky above the country road was thick with low white clouds, streaming thin sunlight through in patches over the rolling foothills and occasional vineyard with its leaves turned burnished red and orange. Gavin played with the climate controls, trying to find some sort of happy medium between stuffy warmth and blasting chill. He wasn’t used to the way the settings worked on the new car yet, and Cole was the one who usually drove this one anyway. But it was more suited for the country drive out to Gavin’s parents’ house, and Gavin also knew the route better.

“Your mom isn’t going to like your haircut, you know,” Cole remarked idly. He was lounging up against the passenger door as Gavin drove, a haze of early afternoon light behind him turning his sandy hair golden.

“What?” Gavin said, putting one hand protectively to the neat business cut that he’d sheared his dark hair into a few months ago before the start of the school year. “It’s professional!”

“You work at a middle school, no one cares what your hair is doing.” Cole reached over to ruffle at Gavin’s head. “And I’m telling you she’s gonna hate it.”

Gavin stretched his neck up and peeked briefly at himself in the rear-view mirror. His hair had grown out some by now, but not long enough to get a handful of. Gavin was fairly sure that was why Cole wasn’t so fond of it himself, even if he’d never directly said so.

He settled back in the seat, making the left hand turn onto the final stretch that lead to his parents’ house. The tires splashed through a puddle left over from the recent rain and crunched over scattered gravel on the rougher rural road.

“Oh, did you ever call your sister back?” Gavin asked, thoughts of family reminding him of it.

Cole’s hands tightened slightly on his knees. “Did you see me call my sister back?”

“No, but-“

“I don’t want to think about her today.” Cole said, with a slight edge in his voice. “I just want to think about this side of the family today, all right?”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, settling back against his seat and adjusting his hands on the wheel. “All right.”

“Sorry,” Cole said, after a few seconds. “Just, you know. You know why.”

Gavin did. Cole had barely spoken to his parents since the disastrous Fourth of July weekend, which had been over two years ago by now. There’d only been one or two curt and upsetting phone calls since then, none of which Cole had instigated, and definitely no visits. It had been nothing but good for Cole, with less strain and anger pressing in on him so much of the time. He’d kept in only slightly better touch with his sister, but there were still long stretches of months between every contact. Leila had called three or four days ago, leaving a message on the machine and sending Cole into a gloomy snappish mood for the rest of the day. He’d been fine since, but Gavin should have known better than to bring it up right now. A part of him just still couldn’t believe, even after meeting Cole’s family for himself, that anyone could really be that consistently awful.

The end loop of the driveway at his parents’ house was already cluttered up with a few more cars than usual when Gavin pulled them up-a white SUV that belonged to his sister Moira and her husband, and a sporty red Camaro that was probably his uncle and aunt’s. It looked new, and when Gavin parked behind them he could see that there weren’t even license plates on it yet.

Cole and Gavin piled out of their car and into the cool fall air. By the time Cole’d gotten around to the backseat to start taking out the couple of meager dishes he and Cole had tried to scrape together-neither one of them was all that great at cooking, even if Cole was getting a little better with recent effort-their arrival had been noticed. His mother came out of the house and down the front steps, beaming at them, and Cole went to meet her first.

“Hi, Irene,” he said as Gavin’s mom folded him into a hug. “Good to see you.”

“You boys need to visit more often,” she chided gently. “What’s it been, since June?”

“Yeah, about.” Cole let her go, gently pushing back. “We had that car trouble.”

The silver Celica that Cole had driven for the first several years Gavin had known him had finally broken down badly enough that the repairs weren’t worth it. Their new car wasn’t actually new-a second-hand Elantra several years old, but in good condition and new enough for them. They’d also bought it together, which had been...nice. Really nice. As nice as choosing an apartment together had been. Gavin supposes the next step is getting some kind of pet together, but they haven’t talked about that yet.

“Hey, mom,” Gavin said as she came over to him next and hooked her arms around him. She always hugged with a firm grip, much stronger than she looked. Her hair was pulled back in a loose plait and her dangling earrings tickled against the side of Gavin’s face.

“I can’t wait to hear all about your job,” she said as they pulled apart. “Much better to hear about in person. Oh, what’s this?” She reached up to pinch at the hair near Gavin’s temple.

“Do you hate it?” Gavin said, and his mom wrinkled up her nose and made a little humming noise. “Okay, you hate it.”

“You got my big forehead and you’re showing it off a little here.” She tried to brush more hair down across his forehead, then gave up. “Not my favorite for you.”

“Iree-eene! The daughter is calling for you!” The voice of Gavin’s father shouted from inside the house, through the front door that had been left open.

“Oh no, what’s wrong with the turkey now,” his mom said, and gave Gavin’s shoulder a quick squeeze before darting back inside. Gavin smiled after her-the turkey was probably fine, but Moira was just as uneasy of a cook as Gavin was and probably just worrying over nothing.

A few moments later Gavin’s father loped out of the house himself and down the front steps, as formally dressed up as he ever got in a ribbed sweater and jeans. The growth of his dark beard-with a spot or two of dark grey in it-meant that Gavin’s strong resemblance to him was dulled a little. The fact that his dad still had a full head of thick wavy hair-also shot through with grey-was also detracting from their similarities at the moment.

And naturally, that was the first thing he noticed.

“What on earth’d you do to yourself, son? You joining up with the army?”

“Oh my God, dad,” Gavin muttered. “It’s a haircut.”

“Your mother will not be pleased,” Patrick said cheerfully. “Oi, Irene! Did you see what your boy’s done to his good hair genes?”

“I saw!” came the answering shout from somewhere deep in the house. “A tragedy!”

Cole nudged Gavin pointedly in the side, and when Gavin turned to him to surrender and admit that he’d been right, Cole only held out a foil-covered Pyrex dish innocently at him. “Take this in?” he said. “And I’ll get the rest.”

Gavin made a little face at him. Cole grinned back, hefted the glass pan into Gavin’s arms and pecked him on the cheek before turning back to the rest of the stuff in the backseat. As Gavin headed up the front steps into the house he heard his dad amble over to Cole to greet him.

Honestly he was just glad that for once on a holiday, Cole was in a good mood. And that he’d almost referred to Gavin’s family as his own. Which wasn’t getting that far off from the truth these days. If Cole happened to pick up the phone when Gavin’s mom or dad called the apartment, it would sometimes be an hour or more before it got handed over to Gavin. Sometimes Gavin was pretty sure Cole was the one calling them first. When recipes that were familiar from Gavin’s childhood started showing up on the dinner table in Cole’s occasional adventurous attempts to cook, Gavin had known for sure that Cole and his mom were emailing each other too.

Gavin could only be glad about it. Cole had never had the family he deserved and the one he’d had was responsible for a lot of his unhappiness, past and current. It had gotten better since he’d stopped trying, stopped going back to them over and over and searching for some kind of acceptance he would never get. And Gavin’s parents were so accepting that they’d nearly scared Cole off outright the first time they’d met.

His mom and aunt Susan were in the kitchen, bent over a well-worn recipe book together. The large turkey sat in a baking pan behind them.

“Oh, I’ll just go get Roland, he’ll know all about this,” Irene said, waving dismissively at the cookbook and ducking out of the kitchen to go in search of her brother.

“So when did that car happen?” Gavin asked Susan, sliding into a stool at the counter and reaching for a cracker off an artfully arranged hors d’oeuvres plate. “Uncle Rol’s idea, I bet.”

“Retirement gift for himself last week,” Susan said with something of an indulgent eye-roll. “You better not eat those before your mom gets a chance to show off how pretty her plate arrangements look.”

Gavin put the cracker back. “Right, yep.”

Cole and Gavin’s dad came into the room, parting themselves around eight-year old Dylan as he suddenly thundered back into the kitchen from the garage and out into the living room. Cole was carrying the second side-dish in its heavy ceramic serving bowl. They’d brought two since they were counting on at least one of them to not be entirely edible. In the lucky case that both were, there were still nine people eating tonight.

“-don’t know a lot about cars,” Cole was saying as he set the bowl on the kitchen table. “But it looks really nice.”

Patrick disappeared out to the garage, carrying something in his hands. Cole came over to stand at the counter and reached for the same cracker Gavin had, caught Gavin’s eye, and put it back. They smiled at each other and Cole stepped closer to the stool, rubbing his shoulder into Gavin’s.

“Got everything?” Gavin asked.

“Yep,” Cole said. “Your dad’s putting the wine somewhere for us. He said it was a good one, so I guess that guy at the store was right.”

“Good to know.” Gavin closed his fingers on the sleeve of Cole’s sweater and played idly with it. Cole’d actually worn real colors today instead of the usual greys and blacks that often popped up on holidays-the sweater was a rich caramel brown and the shirt beneath, that peeked out at the collar and sleeves, was dark red.

Somebody else came into the kitchen behind them, and Gavin felt fingers walk up his back and poke into his neck, the way his older sister had been doing for most of their entire lives.

“Gavin, gosh, I didn’t even recognize you from the back,” Moira said, leaning around his other shoulder and grinning at him. “What happened, an accident?”

“All right, all right, you all win, I will grow it out,” Gavin said, folding his arms on the counter and dropping his face into them. At least two people rubbed their hands into his hair and several more laughed above his head.

“I liked it,” he heard Cole say, and Gavin lifted his head again.

“You hated it too, but thanks,” he said, and pulled Cole in for a quick kiss. Quick, because Cole was still shy about too much affection in public, especially in front of family. But Cole matched the kiss and even put a hand around the back of Gavin’s neck for a brief second before letting him go again. Even then, they stayed leaning close to each other, comfortable in each other’s space.

“Hey, Cole, good to see you,” Moira said then. Her tone was slightly careful, since she and Cole hadn’t had the best start. She’d lived next to Cole’s parents for several years and had been given a less than stellar opinion of him even before meeting him. They got along fine now, but Gavin thought that Moira felt a little guilty about it, especially the time she had tried to warn Gavin away from Cole because of it.

“Yeah, you too,” Cole said sincerely. “Your hair is very nice, by the way.”

Moira laughed, then moved away from them as Dylan clattered noisily back into the room. “Oh Dylan, honey, don’t hit the furniture with that-“

Gavin’s uncle Roland joined the growing crowd into the kitchen then with Irene trailing him, spotted Cole and Gavin and came right over, bracing his hands on the counter.

“So boys,” he said, “you see the new car?” Roland beamed like he’d built the thing himself.

“It looks really nice,” Gavin said, and Cole looked down at him and grinned.

“The turkey, Rol,” Susan said. “We can’t eat the car.”

“Right, right.”

#

Sometime later, while the house was slowly filling up with the smells of things beginning their hours-long process of cooking, Gavin headed into the living room to find that Cole had gotten cornered by Dylan near the couches. While he thought he should probably go in there and save his boyfriend from the overly-inquisitive eight year old, it was cute to watch. The football game was on the TV behind them, muted, but neither of them was paying attention to it.

“You shouldn’t actually call me that, you know,” Cole was saying. He was half-sitting half-leaning on the arm of the couch like he wasn’t prepared to fully invest in the conversation, but also didn’t want to just brush Dylan off.

“What, why not?” Dylan asked.

“I’m not really your uncle,” Cole said. “You could just call me Cole, I’d like that better.”

“But you’re married to my uncle Gavin, so you have to be uncle Cole,” Dylan said firmly.

“I-” Cole snapped his mouth shut, his eyes going wide and startled. Behind the safety of the doorway, Gavin’s heart throbbed a little harder in his chest. “Oh hell. Look-we’re not married.”

“What?” Dylan was starting to sound slightly dismayed. “But why not?”

“Wh-we just, I don’t, it’s-“ Cole’s face was turning a dull pink, and he was picking at a fold of his slacks, scratching a thumbnail back and forth over the fabric.

Gavin moved into the living room then, and both Cole and Dylan turned towards him. Dylan locked onto him at once.

“Why aren’t you married to uncle Cole?” he demanded.

“He’s really upset about this for some reason,” Cole muttered, a blush still burning high on his cheeks. His hands were wedged between his knees now and he couldn’t seem to look Gavin in the face. Gavin sat down on the cushion below him, close enough that his shoulder pressed into Cole’s leg.

“Not everybody gets married,” Gavin said to Dylan.

“But you’ve been together forever,” Dylan said, which was likely true in his view of the world. Five years was a long time for an eight year old; more than half his life. He might not even clearly remember a time when Gavin and Cole hadn’t been together. “How long do people usually wait?”

“It depends,” Gavin said. “But usually when it feels right.”

Dylan crossed his arms firmly. “Well, when is that?”

Gavin threw an unsure look at Cole, who only shrugged helplessly back. Well, at least neither of them knew how to answer. And they were saved a few seconds later, by Moira calling out from the kitchen for Dylan to come wash his hands because she had some tasks for him to help out with. Dylan kept looking back and forth between Cole and Gavin for another few seconds, forehead furrowed deeply, until Moira called his name again. Then he scampered out of the room and left them alone in an awkward quiet.

“He’s just a kid,” Gavin finally offered into the silence, and Cole made a faint noise but didn’t really answer. Gavin fiddled at a loose threat sticking out of the seam of the couch cushion, trying to smooth it back where it belonged.

“But maybe he’s right,” Cole said suddenly. Gavin looked up at him, but Cole was staring down at his hands in his lap. “Maybe we should have at least talked about it.”

Gavin let out breath. “Yeah, maybe.” He waited, but Cole still wouldn’t look at him. “Do you want to do that...now?”

“Hell, I don’t know.” Cole shifted himself a little more firmly onto the couch arm, raking his fingers through his sandy hair. “I just can’t believe he actually thought we were married. Who told him that?”

“I doubt anybody did. He just assumed, probably, because...that’s what kids do.”

Cole was looking down at his left hand, turning it over and flexing his fingers in and out. “We don’t even wear rings or anything, I just-where the hell did even he come up with the idea?”

Gavin put a careful hand on his knee. “Are you really that upset about it?”

“No. No, I-I don’t know. No, I am upset. I just don’t fucking know why. Fuck.” Cole dragged his hands down his face and knotted them under his chin. “I really didn’t want to do this today.”

“What?”

“This, this. The stupid-the fucking drama. There’s always some goddamn issue that comes up and it’s always me and I really was trying so fucking hard not to do it today. Thanksgiving was always the worst time of-I mean, I’ve hated every holiday since I was about twelve but this one was always the shittiest and I just thought...one time, it could be good. And here I am, doing this.” Cole pressed his face into his hands and leaned heavily on his knees.

“Hey,” Gavin said, sliding a hand over Cole’s back and gripping his shoulder. “You know that I know that family stuff is really tough for you. Even if it’s going well. So what’s this really about?”

Cole sighed. “It’s just-you are my family now, you know? You and your parents and sister and everything are so good to me and clearly Dylan is just like heartbroken about me not being his real uncle and you and me, you know, we’re just about as stable and settled as it gets, so would it really be so weird?”

Heat suddenly clogged Gavin’s throat. “If we got married?”

“Yeah,” Cole said. “Uhm, wow, that was shitty way to-I’m just saying that I’m not against the idea. The general idea. I mean, I probably seem like the kind of guy who would be, but-fuck we really have never talked about this, I don’t even know what you think about it.”

“We’re going to talk about it,” Gavin said. He reached for Cole’s hand, glad when Cole gripped him back hard. “We really are, I promise. And somewhere better than my parents’ living room with seven other people in the house. I never thought you’d want to bring it up, because-”

“You don’t even have to say why, and I don’t even blame you,” Cole said. “If I were you, I’d’ve been afraid of talking to me about it too. I don’t get nice about these things.”

“I wasn’t afraid, just-I didn’t want to upset you. But mostly I didn’t bring it up because I wasn’t thinking about it either.”

“Oh,” Cole said, frowning slightly. Whatever he planned to follow up with was interrupted by Dylan bouncing back into the room, sleeves rolled up and hands still wet from washing.

“Are you married yet?” Dylan said sternly.

“It takes a little longer than that, buddy,” Cole said.

“Dylan!” Moira called again, and her dark head popped around the corner of the doorway. “Stop bothering your uncles! Come in here, you’re going to fold some napkins for me.”

“Moo-oom,” Dylan complained, but slouched towards the doorway. Moira winked at the both of them over her son’s head as she steered him back into the kitchen. Your uncles, Gavin thought as they left the room. Maybe it was more than just Dylan who thought of Cole and Gavin as being as good as married.

#

The next hour or so passed in a familiar mild chaos, with family members ducking in and out of the kitchen and trying to stay out of each other’s way, all the while giving each other tips on how to prepare certain things. Everyone picked off the hors d’oeuvres plates that Gavin’s mom had made and occasionally paid attention to the football game that was on in the living room while
Dylan raced around and tried to avoid getting caught and told to do some minor chore.

Gavin got sent off to the store because there somehow hadn’t been enough potatoes, and when he got back Cole seemed to have disappeared. Maybe Dylan’s comments had upset him even more than Gavin had originally thought, and he’d gone off somewhere in the back of the house to worry alone. As Gavin passed the hall bathroom he couldn’t help but think about the first time Cole had met his parents and had hidden in there, but he wasn’t there now. In fact he wasn’t anywhere inside. Gavin finally spotted him through a window, out in the backyard, by himself.

His parent’s backyard was small but neat, with a circular lawn taking up most of it and a very tiny brick wall sectioning it off from the dirt of the planters that filled up the space between it and the fence. On the far left side of the yard was a swing that Gavin’s dad had built himself, years ago when Gavin was in high school. It sat under a wooden half-roof so that it stayed dry in the weather. Cole was sitting on it and pushing it idly back and forth with his foot. He didn’t look like he’d gone out there to escape-rather, he looked relaxed and content and like he was just enjoying sitting in the last warmth of the sun.

Gavin went outside through the door in his parent’s room and crossed the yard, over the grass that needed mowing and was still a little damp from rain, and leaned up against the unmoving part of the swing’s frame. Cole wasn’t looking at him, but he glanced up when Gavin’s shadow fell across him.

“Hey,” Gavin said.

“Hey,” Cole replied with an affectionate and unworried smile. “Your mom and uncle chased me out of the kitchen because I was underfoot and didn’t know what I was doing.” He leaned back in the swing, making it rock back and forth little more energetically. “Which is true.”

Gavin waited until the swing had come forward again, and then dropped into it next to Cole. Cole lifted his arm and Gavin settled in under it, leaning against Cole’s shoulder while Cole combed his fingers through the short hair just above his ear. For several minutes neither of them spoke. Cole used one foot to keep the swing gently rocking back and forth, and Gavin closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of damp leaves and earth and a distant woodsmoke fire. Cole was a solid warmth against him, and had his own smell of light musk and sweater wool and sharp aftershave.

“I never really expected anything like this, ever,” Cole said eventually, and Gavin opened his eyes. “I always thought I’d just be that guy, you know, the one who didn’t commit, because who the hell would want to with me. It was just gonna be-clubs, one night stands, whatever I could get for as little effort as I could get it. And then suddenly this handsome English student stalks me around town for a whole night and-and then this, still, five years later.”

Gavin shifted against Cole’s arm and chuckled. “I didn’t stalk you-“

“You really did. But it was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean it. And-” Cole’s breath went out in a rush, his arm tightening a little around Gavin’s shoulders. “And I’m okay with staying the way we are, just exactly the way we are, because it’s already so much more than anything I ever thought. Unless...” Cole’s grip on Gavin’s hand tightened and held. “Unless you want it. More, I mean. Because I’d give you anything.”

Gavin took in a little breath and held it, fluttering high in his chest. When once in a while he would hear about a state legalizing or outlawing marriage for people like them, he’d always think about it later on curled up next to Cole in the warm comfort of their bed. If it would ever be possible, for him, for Cole, for them together. But then time would go on and other things would cover it up and it would been more important and immediate to look around for a better apartment or finding a teaching job or getting bills paid or Cole’s car breaking down and having to shop for a new one, and marriage seemed like a distant thing people did in movies and TV that would never actually happen to him.

Most of all, it didn’t feel like something he needed. If he did, they would have talked about it by this point, after nearly five years together. It would have come up at least once. Gavin had been thinking earlier that their next step would be to get a dog, which seemed like enough of a commitment in itself. What Cole had said, about staying exactly as they were because it was already so much more-that felt right, and honest, and defining their relationship with pieces of paper and jewelry wouldn’t make it any more real.

Gavin turned to look at Cole, who was watching him with guarded apprehension. The arm that Gavin was leaning on was still and unsure. Gavin leaned over and kissed him gently. Cole’s lips were cold in the crisp air but the inside of his mouth was warm and pliant. He felt Cole starting to smile against him, and when Gavin pulled back there was a faint blush on Cole’s cheeks again.

“I don’t think we need to change anything about how we are. Because this-“ Gavin slipped his fingers between Cole’s, and held. “This is good.”

“Yeah?” Cole’s smile was wide and boyish, but still almost shy. “Shit, it’s good to hear you say that.”

Cole was the one who leaned in for the kiss this time, and they were still at it a few minutes later when the back door of the house creaked open.

“Yoo-hooo!” someone called across the yard, and Gavin and Cole broke apart and looked up to see Moira waving at them from the doorway. “Hey, guys! You’re needed in here!”

“Oh, are we,” Cole muttered under his breath. “That’s not what I was told ten minutes ago.”

Gavin laughed and stood up, tugging on Cole’s arm as he did. “Come on,” he said. “Maybe you can fold some napkins.”

“Oh hah-hah,” Cole said, but he let Gavin pull him from the swing and then caught his hand and interlinked their fingers. They walked across the sunlit lawn together and back inside the house.