Although it's been said, many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you
This is my gift--and an excuse to practice writing and blending in longer pieces--to july_v because I didn't have a physical gift to send. :( To a great friend, with love and hopeful wishes.
title: Christmas Eve.
characters: Gonzalo Higuain, Ezequiel Garay
author's note: On Christmas Eve, miracles happen. Not on Christmas but on the day before.
Inspired by a few of our fun talks and The Christmas Song" by Nat King Cole.
- - -
They decided on a small Christmas at Ezequiel’s place. They picked out a small tree, decorated it-that had been an exciting feat of making cinnamon and apple sauce ornaments-and separately bought presents for each other, setting each one they wrapped up under the tree.
It was simple and pleasant. Now Christmas Eve, Gonzalo settled on the couch across from their tree, smiling. “Did your mom answer?”
“No. Guess she's already at the church," Ezequiel said as he walked into the kitchen. "The gingerbread is done."
"What are you waiting for? Bring some here!" There was a laugh and the sound of dishes bumping together and then the strong smell of gingerbread filling the compact area. He picked up a remote and pressed 'Power' then 'Play' so that he could hear mellow notes.
"What's that?" The gingerbread was placed on the table with two glasses of milk, hopefully spiked with a little bit of rum.
Gonzalo patted the cushion next to him. "Christmas music. It's old, from a couple of decades ago. This one is..." Reaching for the CD case. "Nat King Cole."
Gently passing a cookie from one hand to another as it cooled, Ezequiel nodded as he listened.
So I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although it's been said many times
Many ways, Merry Christmas to you
"You never told me what you wanted for Christmas."
Gonzalo wrapped an arm around the other man. To be honest, he wanted a new pair of boots, those nice ones he'd seen in the window on his walk. But if honesty was where he was already, he'd be willing to admit that this, sitting with his... best friend as they ate gingerbread and drank rum and milk and listened to old American songs, was perfect. He savored the scents and sights. Their was-pitiful tree with its paper decorations looked pretty damn awesome, even if he couldn't cut a star. He looked down at Ezequiel. What a great guy, better than most of the other people he knew: charming, polite, funny, and not to mention, good-looking.
Ezequiel chuckles. "You sound like an idiot."
"What?"
He turned to his friend and smiled. "You were talking. Well, rambling, actually. Kept talking about the tree and then you said something about 'good-looking'?"
Setting down his now empty glass, Gonzalo laughed. "It's Christmas Eve, sue me."
"Maybe I will for wearing those awful pajamas."
"What'll happen if you win?"
Ezequiel smirked as he scooted away. "I'd get to take 'em away from you." He let his eyes roam the rather ugly patterned sleepwear.
"Would you get to remove them as well?" He licked his lips, waiting for a reaction.
He got the one he was hoping for. Ezequiel leaned in slowly, way too slowly, and, pushing the other Argentine back into the cushions, let their chests touch as their lips did. The contact was barely existent before Gonzalo raised up just a bit. It felt good to finally get what he wanted...
"Nope. It's not Christmas yet." Ezequiel stood up and quickly took the dishes into the kitchen, snickering.
"Damn it, Eze!"
title: Christmas Eve.
characters: Gonzalo Higuain, Ezequiel Garay
author's note: On Christmas Eve, miracles happen. Not on Christmas but on the day before.
Inspired by a few of our fun talks and The Christmas Song" by Nat King Cole.
- - -
They decided on a small Christmas at Ezequiel’s place. They picked out a small tree, decorated it-that had been an exciting feat of making cinnamon and apple sauce ornaments-and separately bought presents for each other, setting each one they wrapped up under the tree.
It was simple and pleasant. Now Christmas Eve, Gonzalo settled on the couch across from their tree, smiling. “Did your mom answer?”
“No. Guess she's already at the church," Ezequiel said as he walked into the kitchen. "The gingerbread is done."
"What are you waiting for? Bring some here!" There was a laugh and the sound of dishes bumping together and then the strong smell of gingerbread filling the compact area. He picked up a remote and pressed 'Power' then 'Play' so that he could hear mellow notes.
"What's that?" The gingerbread was placed on the table with two glasses of milk, hopefully spiked with a little bit of rum.
Gonzalo patted the cushion next to him. "Christmas music. It's old, from a couple of decades ago. This one is..." Reaching for the CD case. "Nat King Cole."
Gently passing a cookie from one hand to another as it cooled, Ezequiel nodded as he listened.
So I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although it's been said many times
Many ways, Merry Christmas to you
"You never told me what you wanted for Christmas."
Gonzalo wrapped an arm around the other man. To be honest, he wanted a new pair of boots, those nice ones he'd seen in the window on his walk. But if honesty was where he was already, he'd be willing to admit that this, sitting with his... best friend as they ate gingerbread and drank rum and milk and listened to old American songs, was perfect. He savored the scents and sights. Their was-pitiful tree with its paper decorations looked pretty damn awesome, even if he couldn't cut a star. He looked down at Ezequiel. What a great guy, better than most of the other people he knew: charming, polite, funny, and not to mention, good-looking.
Ezequiel chuckles. "You sound like an idiot."
"What?"
He turned to his friend and smiled. "You were talking. Well, rambling, actually. Kept talking about the tree and then you said something about 'good-looking'?"
Setting down his now empty glass, Gonzalo laughed. "It's Christmas Eve, sue me."
"Maybe I will for wearing those awful pajamas."
"What'll happen if you win?"
Ezequiel smirked as he scooted away. "I'd get to take 'em away from you." He let his eyes roam the rather ugly patterned sleepwear.
"Would you get to remove them as well?" He licked his lips, waiting for a reaction.
He got the one he was hoping for. Ezequiel leaned in slowly, way too slowly, and, pushing the other Argentine back into the cushions, let their chests touch as their lips did. The contact was barely existent before Gonzalo raised up just a bit. It felt good to finally get what he wanted...
"Nope. It's not Christmas yet." Ezequiel stood up and quickly took the dishes into the kitchen, snickering.
"Damn it, Eze!"