FIC - The Old Familiar Carols Play (Part 7)
Fandom: Donald Strachey Mysteries
Title: The Old Familiar Carols Play
Pairings: Donald/Timmy
Rating: various, with one NC-17 chapter
Spoilers: minor ones for most of the movies
Summary: Some Christmases are more memorable than others.
Warning: A crazy rainbow of emotions.
Author’s Note: I covered as many of the prompts as I could when writing this. If I left yours out, either thematically or musically, I do apologize. I could only fit in twelve chapters. Thanks guys! As always, thanks to my wonderful betas mjmcca and nyteflyer .
Preserve This Day
By, by, lully, lullay.
Donald's left shoulder blade itched something fierce. Subtly, he leaned against the carved wooden pillar behind him, trying to scratch. It didn't work. He sighed. Normally, he'd just twist around and claw at his suit coat until he managed to scratch it into submission. Standing in the back of a darkened cathedral, smooshed between Timmy and a crowd of strangers, Donald was trying to behave himself. He shifted against the pillar again.
Abruptly, strong fingers slid between his back and the wood, scratching at his shoulder. Heedless of anything else, Donald hunched his shoulders until those glorious fingers found the itch. From the corner of his eye, Donald saw Timmy's mouth twitch. Ruthlessly suppressing a moan of relief, Donald twisted to keep that spot under Timmy's fingers until the raging itch faded away. Donald relaxed. With a final pat, Timmy withdrew his hand again.
“Thanks,” Donald whispered. Timmy flicked him an acknowledging glance and returned his attention to the priest. Donald tried to follow what was going on. He really did. Timmy asked so very little of him when it came to religious stuff. If Timmy wanted to attend midnight mass, Donald could do that. He could. He could lean against this lumpy pillar in this Gothic monstrosity of a church surrounded by strangers and behave himself. Though, next year, he was going to make sure they arrived early enough to find an actual seat. Ninety minutes of standing room only sucked.
A rustling noise pulled his attention back around and Donald noticed that people were digging in their pockets and purses - pulling out the small candles and paper holders they'd been handed as they walked in. Donald quickly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the two he'd taken. Timmy took the offered candle with a smile. The priest made a gesture and the room plunged into darkness. Donald jerked in surprise, but Timmy bumped him with a hip.
“Relax,” Timmy murmured. “It's tradition.” Donald pressed his arm against Timmy's in acquiescence. After a long, quiet moment, a candle flickered to life in the front of the pulpit. The priest said something lifting the candle high. The congregation murmured its response in eerie unison. As the choir started something slow and haunting, the priest tipped his candle and lit the first one on each side of the aisle. As Donald watched, the light spread, passed from candle to candle in orderly rows that quickly broke down as people turned and lit not only their neighbors' but the people's behind them or in front of them.
An elderly woman Donald had never seen in his life stretched across two other people and lit his candle. Before he could move, Timmy lifted his to steal a piece of the guttering flame. On Donald's other side, a tall, thin man waited patiently until Donald lifted the candle up in offer.
A few minutes later the entire cathedral glowed faintly in the flickering light of hundreds of cheap, rapidly melting white candles. The choir tapered away and the room fell silent save for the hushed whisper of people breathing and the soft drag of clothing rustling. Timmy's head was bowed, lips moving silently so Donald tipped his head back and looked up.
Above him the ceiling had disappeared into the heavy dark. Occasionally a rafter caught the light, echoing a faint line of flame down one edge before guttering out again - like light rising through water, it flickered insubstantial and inconstant. A translucent glow that illuminated nothing. For no reason he could define, Donald's throat grew suddenly tight. He swallowed hard and dragged his eyes back down to the people around him. To Timmy.
Timmy had finished whatever prayer he'd been saying and lifted his gaze to meet Donald's. Candlelight washed him in tones of black and gold and turned his eyes deep and unfathomable. He shifted and the glare caught his lenses. Before he could stop himself, Donald reached out and lifted them off Timmy's face; tucked them into his jacket pocket. Timmy blinked near-sightedly for a moment and then leaned in close.
“Why'd you do that?” Timmy whispered. Sheltered by the dimness, Donald rubbed his thumb over Timmy's cheekbone.
“You're so gorgeous,” Donald breathed. Timmy leaned into Donald's hand for a moment.
“You've been very patient, Donald. It's not much longer,” Timmy replied. Donald nodded, letting his hand drop. The organ burst into life and they both jumped.
“That's our cue,” Timmy said over the blasting music. He blew out his candle and tucked the nub in his pocket. Donald watched him fold his bulletin into quarters and drop in the basket at the end of the nearest pew. Timmy glanced at him as he stood unmoving.
“Donald?” Timmy asked.
“You're still gorgeous,” Donald said. Timmy rolled his eyes with a broad smile.
“Well thank you, Donald. You do wonders for my ego,” Timmy said. He licked his fingers and pinched out Donald's candle. Stirred into motion, Donald dropped his bulletin in the basket and followed Timmy out the door. Timmy tangled their fingers together as they walked down the street toward their car. Their breath puffed out on the icy air.
“I do appreciate you coming with me, Donald. I know it wasn't much fun for you,” Timmy said as they crossed the street toward the car. Donald jammed the key in the lock and yanked the door open. Leaning in, he popped Timmy's door.
“It wasn't bad. I think I enjoyed it,” Donald mused as they settled into the cold car.
“Oh really?” Timmy asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Really,” Donald confirmed. “It was kind of nice. Especially the thing with the candles.” Timmy shot him a crooked smile.
“So I guess you don't need your reward for good behavior,” Timmy suggested. His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Since you had such fun.” Donald shot him a glance.
“I was wrong. I hated it. It was the worst night of my life. You owe me big time,” Donald retorted. Timmy burst out laughing. Donald smothered a grin. “I mean it, Timmy.”
“Well then, I guess I just have to make it up to you,” Timmy replied, still chuckling. “Have any suggestions?”
“Oh, I might have a few. Dozen,” Donald replied. Timmy snorted another laugh and reached out to press a kiss to Donald's cold cheek.
“I do love you, Donald,” Timmy said. Donald risked looking away from the road long enough to swipe a quick kiss of his own.
“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, Timmy,” Donald said. Timmy grabbed his chin and twisted his head back to the front.
“Merry Christmas to you too, Donald. Now watch the road. If you kill us, you don't get your reward,” Timmy ordered. Quick as a flash, Donald stole one more kiss and settled in for the drive home.
=+++=
1980 (A Baby Just Like You)
1982 (White Christmas Makes Me Blue)
1992 (Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas)
1998 (God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen)
1999 (I Wonder as I Wander)
2000 (Frosty the Snowman)
2002 (Coventry Carol)
2004 (Walking in a Winter Wonderland)
2005 (Holly, Jolly Christmas)
2006 (Do You Hear What I Hear?)
2009 (All I Want for Christmas is You)
2047 (Aspenglow)
Title: The Old Familiar Carols Play
Pairings: Donald/Timmy
Rating: various, with one NC-17 chapter
Spoilers: minor ones for most of the movies
Summary: Some Christmases are more memorable than others.
Warning: A crazy rainbow of emotions.
Author’s Note: I covered as many of the prompts as I could when writing this. If I left yours out, either thematically or musically, I do apologize. I could only fit in twelve chapters. Thanks guys! As always, thanks to my wonderful betas mjmcca and nyteflyer .
Preserve This Day
By, by, lully, lullay.
Donald's left shoulder blade itched something fierce. Subtly, he leaned against the carved wooden pillar behind him, trying to scratch. It didn't work. He sighed. Normally, he'd just twist around and claw at his suit coat until he managed to scratch it into submission. Standing in the back of a darkened cathedral, smooshed between Timmy and a crowd of strangers, Donald was trying to behave himself. He shifted against the pillar again.
Abruptly, strong fingers slid between his back and the wood, scratching at his shoulder. Heedless of anything else, Donald hunched his shoulders until those glorious fingers found the itch. From the corner of his eye, Donald saw Timmy's mouth twitch. Ruthlessly suppressing a moan of relief, Donald twisted to keep that spot under Timmy's fingers until the raging itch faded away. Donald relaxed. With a final pat, Timmy withdrew his hand again.
“Thanks,” Donald whispered. Timmy flicked him an acknowledging glance and returned his attention to the priest. Donald tried to follow what was going on. He really did. Timmy asked so very little of him when it came to religious stuff. If Timmy wanted to attend midnight mass, Donald could do that. He could. He could lean against this lumpy pillar in this Gothic monstrosity of a church surrounded by strangers and behave himself. Though, next year, he was going to make sure they arrived early enough to find an actual seat. Ninety minutes of standing room only sucked.
A rustling noise pulled his attention back around and Donald noticed that people were digging in their pockets and purses - pulling out the small candles and paper holders they'd been handed as they walked in. Donald quickly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the two he'd taken. Timmy took the offered candle with a smile. The priest made a gesture and the room plunged into darkness. Donald jerked in surprise, but Timmy bumped him with a hip.
“Relax,” Timmy murmured. “It's tradition.” Donald pressed his arm against Timmy's in acquiescence. After a long, quiet moment, a candle flickered to life in the front of the pulpit. The priest said something lifting the candle high. The congregation murmured its response in eerie unison. As the choir started something slow and haunting, the priest tipped his candle and lit the first one on each side of the aisle. As Donald watched, the light spread, passed from candle to candle in orderly rows that quickly broke down as people turned and lit not only their neighbors' but the people's behind them or in front of them.
An elderly woman Donald had never seen in his life stretched across two other people and lit his candle. Before he could move, Timmy lifted his to steal a piece of the guttering flame. On Donald's other side, a tall, thin man waited patiently until Donald lifted the candle up in offer.
A few minutes later the entire cathedral glowed faintly in the flickering light of hundreds of cheap, rapidly melting white candles. The choir tapered away and the room fell silent save for the hushed whisper of people breathing and the soft drag of clothing rustling. Timmy's head was bowed, lips moving silently so Donald tipped his head back and looked up.
Above him the ceiling had disappeared into the heavy dark. Occasionally a rafter caught the light, echoing a faint line of flame down one edge before guttering out again - like light rising through water, it flickered insubstantial and inconstant. A translucent glow that illuminated nothing. For no reason he could define, Donald's throat grew suddenly tight. He swallowed hard and dragged his eyes back down to the people around him. To Timmy.
Timmy had finished whatever prayer he'd been saying and lifted his gaze to meet Donald's. Candlelight washed him in tones of black and gold and turned his eyes deep and unfathomable. He shifted and the glare caught his lenses. Before he could stop himself, Donald reached out and lifted them off Timmy's face; tucked them into his jacket pocket. Timmy blinked near-sightedly for a moment and then leaned in close.
“Why'd you do that?” Timmy whispered. Sheltered by the dimness, Donald rubbed his thumb over Timmy's cheekbone.
“You're so gorgeous,” Donald breathed. Timmy leaned into Donald's hand for a moment.
“You've been very patient, Donald. It's not much longer,” Timmy replied. Donald nodded, letting his hand drop. The organ burst into life and they both jumped.
“That's our cue,” Timmy said over the blasting music. He blew out his candle and tucked the nub in his pocket. Donald watched him fold his bulletin into quarters and drop in the basket at the end of the nearest pew. Timmy glanced at him as he stood unmoving.
“Donald?” Timmy asked.
“You're still gorgeous,” Donald said. Timmy rolled his eyes with a broad smile.
“Well thank you, Donald. You do wonders for my ego,” Timmy said. He licked his fingers and pinched out Donald's candle. Stirred into motion, Donald dropped his bulletin in the basket and followed Timmy out the door. Timmy tangled their fingers together as they walked down the street toward their car. Their breath puffed out on the icy air.
“I do appreciate you coming with me, Donald. I know it wasn't much fun for you,” Timmy said as they crossed the street toward the car. Donald jammed the key in the lock and yanked the door open. Leaning in, he popped Timmy's door.
“It wasn't bad. I think I enjoyed it,” Donald mused as they settled into the cold car.
“Oh really?” Timmy asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Really,” Donald confirmed. “It was kind of nice. Especially the thing with the candles.” Timmy shot him a crooked smile.
“So I guess you don't need your reward for good behavior,” Timmy suggested. His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Since you had such fun.” Donald shot him a glance.
“I was wrong. I hated it. It was the worst night of my life. You owe me big time,” Donald retorted. Timmy burst out laughing. Donald smothered a grin. “I mean it, Timmy.”
“Well then, I guess I just have to make it up to you,” Timmy replied, still chuckling. “Have any suggestions?”
“Oh, I might have a few. Dozen,” Donald replied. Timmy snorted another laugh and reached out to press a kiss to Donald's cold cheek.
“I do love you, Donald,” Timmy said. Donald risked looking away from the road long enough to swipe a quick kiss of his own.
“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, Timmy,” Donald said. Timmy grabbed his chin and twisted his head back to the front.
“Merry Christmas to you too, Donald. Now watch the road. If you kill us, you don't get your reward,” Timmy ordered. Quick as a flash, Donald stole one more kiss and settled in for the drive home.
=+++=
1980 (A Baby Just Like You)
1982 (White Christmas Makes Me Blue)
1992 (Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas)
1998 (God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen)
1999 (I Wonder as I Wander)
2000 (Frosty the Snowman)
2002 (Coventry Carol)
2004 (Walking in a Winter Wonderland)
2005 (Holly, Jolly Christmas)
2006 (Do You Hear What I Hear?)
2009 (All I Want for Christmas is You)
2047 (Aspenglow)