Scrooged Fic
Now that the authors have been published in the Scrooge secret santa, I can post the story here. Which makes the third Christmas fic. (Now back to the "real" stories lol.)
Summary: This is set sometime in the first few months after the end of S5. Justin is living in New York. Brian is planning a surprise.
(This was written to allow it to be read as something like a prequel to Homecoming, if that makes any difference.)
Christmas Presence
Request: Brian/Justin; Warm, fuzzy, but not too sugary, Christmas story
Christmas Eve 2005
Justin struggled through the cold and icy streets towards his small apartment, feeling sad and abandoned. Once inside, the tiny tree and the few decorations he’d put up only made him feel worse. He showered, and heated some soup, then, cup in hand, he sat and stared at the phone. Brian would be calling any moment. They both had social engagements that night, and Brian had promised he’d call beforehand. Justin struggled to get himself under control so that he could sound upbeat and happy. He didn’t want to spoil Brian’s Christmas by making Brian worry about him. Besides, even though Brian couldn’t come to New York for Christmas, he’d promised to come for New Year. All Justin had to do was last out the week. And he understood, he really did, why Brian had to stay home for Christmas.
The Munchers had brought the kids back to Pittsburgh for the weekend and Justin knew how much Brian was looking forward to seeing his son again. Even if he didn’t talk about it, would never admit it out loud, Justin knew how much he hated Gus being so far away.
They were all going to be spending the evening at Deb’s. And then Mel and Lindsay were taking the kids back to Michael’s for the night. Brian had been invited to sleep over there as well and, although Brian was predictably snarking about it, Justin hoped that he would give in and agree. He didn’t want to think of Brian all alone on Christmas morning, while Michael got to share it with Gus. If he’d been home, he would have asked Linds …
But he wasn’t home. He was here in New York, trying to make some sort of small impression in the art world.
Theoretically, that was the reason that he hadn’t flown home for Christmas. He’d been invited to an “important” party tonight. It was being given by an elderly gay couple. They were, his agent had told him, very influential contacts. They knew everyone on the New York art scene. Which meant that they knew most of the critics; and enjoyed the flattery and attention of most of the artists, since an invitation to their home meant that you got to be seen, and your name got to be known.
They also seemed to like Justin. Really like him. Or maybe that was just his wishful thinking. He found it hard to read a lot of the people that he met here. He’d thought that the Hollywood crowd were shallow and fickle. But here people were just plain two-faced. And bitchy with it.
He hated it.
He would never have stayed, except that he felt in some obscure way he owed it to Brian to give it his best shot. At least for a while. Brian had, after all, been willing to give up their whole future together to give him this chance. That was bullshit, of course, which Justin had let him know in no uncertain terms. But even so, even if it was only the temporary separation that Justin believed it to be, Brian was giving up the pleasure, the ease, the security, of them being together so that Justin could take the tiny window of opportunity opened by that article all those months ago. The least he could do was to try to make the most of it.
So he stayed, and he tried to play the game, and he worked on his art; while all the while his heart felt like it was breaking. Which is why he couldn’t go home for Christmas. He would never have had the courage to leave again, and he was damned if he was going to let Brian think that he was some weak little pussy faggot who just quit every time the going got tough.
It was while that thought was going through his mind for the millionth time that the phone rang.
Taking a deep breath, he answered it.
*****
Brian had known that Justin was going to find it much harder than he was letting on to be alone at Christmas, and he’d carefully laid his plans accordingly. Now he set the first of them into play.
“Hey!” he greeted his lover laconically.
“Hey!” Justin said tenderly back to him.
“So … looking forward to the big party?”
Brian felt his lover’s shrug even before Justin responded. “Yeah, sure. I mean … at least I’ll get fed. They always have the most amazing food at their place apparently.”
“Free food, free booze, what more can you ask for?”
Justin made a sound that might have been a laugh. Or not.
“Oh, well, you know, hot hung guys.” He fought to keep his tone light and his voice steady. He was not going to whimper like some pathetic little faggot just because he was alone on Christmas Eve.
“Guys?” Brian grinned. “More than one? Greedy.”
He sounded approving and, despite himself, Justin felt his lips twisting into a smile. They played this game of bull-shitting each other well, and for some bizarre reason it always made him feel better.
“Well, you know, the more the merrier,” he responded.
“Yeah, well, just make sure that if anyone stays the night you get rid of them by midday.”
Justin wrinkled his nose, and, in a confused voice that let Brian picture his face exactly, said, “Why? You think that they turn into frogs in the daylight or something?”
Brian grinned, and let the words slide into the phone, “I just don’t want to have to kick them out on their asses.”
Justin sat in silence for a moment. Brian couldn’t mean … he couldn’t mean that he …
He swallowed hard, trying not to get his hopes up.
“You’d need awfully long legs,” he said, struggling to make it sound like he appreciated it as the joke it had to be.
Brian’s face softened, and he was smiling as he said softly, “Not from where I’ll be standing.”
Justin gave a little gasp. “Brian!”
Brian sucked his lips in, then said calmly, “My plane gets in around eleven thirty. I’ll be there to pick you up by twelve thirty. We have reservations at one.”
Justin couldn’t take it in. For some reason, he fixated on the last part. “Reservations?” he heard himself squeak.
“Christmas Dinner, Sunshine,” Brian said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
He heard Justin’s breathing quiver and wished that he was there right now. But he wasn’t. All he could offer was the promise that he would be tomorrow. That by tomorrow night Justin would no longer be alone at Christmas.
“Brian,” Justin made his lover’s name a whole song of gratitude.
Brian found himself smiling even wider. “So … just make sure that they’re out of there by the time I get there. Okay?”
“Okay,” Justin sighed happily. Then he paused. If Brian was coming tomorrow, did that mean he wouldn’t be there for New Year? Or would he go home and then come back again? Or …?
At that thought, Justin’s breath caught in his throat. He fought to keep his voice calm so that he could ask. But before he could get anything out, Brian said, “I was going to book us into a hotel, but you’ve never wanted to do that before. But this time it’s not just for the weekend, so we could. If you want …”
He cursed himself for sounding so fucking awkward. What the hell was wrong with him?
Justin took a moment to keep himself from screaming like a drag queen on heat with sheer excitement. Brian was coming for a whole fucking week! And what a week of fucking it will be, he promised himself. But .. hotel? Did Brian really want the comfort of a hotel, instead of his cramped and shabby little apartment?
“Brian … as long as you’re here … I don’t give a fuck where we are.”
Brian laughed. “Oh, you’ll give a fuck alright. Many, many fucks. You’d better. I fly all that way, you’d better plan on putting out.”
Justin giggled. “You know what I mean. If you want to stay at a hotel …”
“Hey, I just didn’t want you to think I’m cheap,” Brian responded.
“I like having you here,” Justin said softly.
He didn’t say anything more, but Brian heard the rest. He too liked the idea that they were building memories of them being together in Justin’s tiny apartment; liked the notion that those memories helped keep Justin company the way the memories of Justin made the loft seem less empty; made it easier to believe it wouldn’t always be empty.
“Good! The more I save on accommodation, the more I can spend on clothes.”
Justin laughed. It was a sore spot with Brian that despite his frequent weekend visits, they never seemed to find time for him to go clothes shopping. Obviously he was hoping that in the whole week he’d be in New York, he’d manage to find time to actually move out of the apartment.
“Brian,” Justin said, suddenly remembering something. “What about Gus?”
Brian sighed. “I’m spending Christmas Eve with the gang. I’m going to go back to Mikey’s tonight. Be there for the whole fucking present thing tomorrow morning. I think by the time I get on the plane, I’ll be just about Gussied out.”
He didn’t say anything more. He knew it wasn’t true. Justin knew it wasn’t true. But there was still that other little bit of information that Justin didn’t know yet. Brian debated about telling him, but then figured it couldn’t do any harm. It wouldn’t spoil the real surprise, and it would stop Justin feel bad about stealing Brian away from his son.
“Anyway, the girls are flying on to New York later tomorrow themselves. They’re going to have dinner with Mel’s family. A sort of belated Hannukah, or something. Linds thought that maybe we could all find time to have a drink or whatever before they fly back to Toronto the day after.”
Justin gave a delighted little squawk.
“Really? That’s … that’s fantastic! Oh, Brian!” His voice cracked.
“So … back to the subject …” Brian cut in, determined to keep the conversation from descending into maudlin sentiment.
“What subject?” Justin said confused.
“Getting rid of the tricks. You just have to be a complete asshole. No fucking sentimentality. Alright?”
“Well, given that you’re going to be here tomorrow, I thought I might do better to save all that hot sex up for you.”
Brian’s voice conveyed his tongue in cheek smirk, “That sounds like a plan.”
“Unless, of course, you think that you’re just too old to handle it,” Justin teased happily.
“Sunshine, your ass is going to pay the penalty for that one.”
“Bring it on,” Justin laughed, excited and a thousand times happier than he would have believed possible an hour ago.
*****
Brian had everything organized for the next morning. His suitcase was packed and already at Michael’s. The cab was booked. He only had to pick up his surprise and get to the airport.
Everything was planned so it would all go smoothly.
The one thing he hadn’t counted on was Gus.
As soon as he realized that his father was leaving, Gus started to cry. By the time the cab arrived, it had turned into a wail. By the time that Brian had his suitcase in the cab, Gus was howling inconsolably. Linds dragged Mel aside and they had a lively conversation. Mel, scowling, stomped off to the kitchen, while Lindsay caught Brian’s arm as he was trying to get out the door without actually having to surgically remove his son’s arms from round his neck.
“There,” Brian said in relief. “Mommy will look after you and Justin and I will see you tomorrow.”
Gus gave a final sad little hiccup, but allowed himself to be handed to Lindsay. To Brian’s surprise, she put him down. “Honey, why don’t you go out to Momma and let her wipe your face, okay?”
Gus looked suspiciously at Brian, but Lindsay ushered him towards the kitchen, saying, “Dadda won’t leave until you come back.”
“Fuck, Linds!” Brian protested. “Why did you say that? I could have just …”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Lindsay said.
Brian did his best to calm the nerves that had been shattered by his son’s outburst, and waited silently for her to go on.
“I thought … we thought, that you might like to take Gus with you,” she said in a rush.
Brian stared at her.
She shrugged, and gestured at him with open hands. “He’d obviously love to spend more time with you, and I’m sure that Justin would love to see him. I mean, we’ll be in New York tonight anyway, we could pick him up. Or you could bring him to the airport. We can call and work that out later.”
Brian took a slow, careful breath. He knew that this was going to cause friction between Lindsay and her partner. But …
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She smiled at him a little sadly. “I don’t think that Mel can very well complain. I mean, Christmas isn’t even a Jewish holiday. She had him to herself for all of Hannukah.”
Brian bit his thumb, and just then his son came running back, clearly very excited.
“I come with you!” he announced.
Obviously, Mel had pre-empted Brian’s decision. She probably hoped that it wouldn’t be at all convenient for him to take Gus. Probably thought that he had a whole fuckfest planned with Justin. Well, he did. But not this afternoon. He had other plans for this afternoon. And Gus would fit into those very well.
He shrugged, told the cab driver he’d be a few more minutes, slipping him a twenty as he did. Then, while the girls got Gus ready, he called the airport, called the restaurant, and made one more phone call.
By the time he got on the plane, he was feeling very pleased with himself indeed. His Christmas surprise for Justin was going to be even better than he’d hoped.
*****
The plane was a little delayed, which, in a way, made things even easier. He called Justin from the cab and asked him to get a cab to the restaurant and meet him there.
“It’s Atelier’s”, he told him. “It’s at the Ritz-Carlton on Central Park. The booking’s in my name.”
By the time Justin got there, the surprise was all set.
Justin was out of breath when he arrived. Despite Brian’s instructions, he’d come by subway rather than by cab, and he’d spent too long deciding what to wear, which had left him behind time, so he’d almost run the couple of blocks to the restaurant. He was a little puzzled that Brian had arranged for them to go out, even for Christmas. Maybe especially for Christmas. He would almost have preferred to stay home and just throw some food together if they got hungry later. But at the same time, he was touched that his lover had wanted to do something to recognize Christmas and make the day special for him, for them.
He gave Brian’s name to the Host, and was escorted to the table.
But this couldn’t be the right table. This wasn’t a table for two. This was a family table, with other people already …
Then the people turned to smile at him and he stood stock still for a moment fighting the shock, and the tears. Then he was moving past the Host to hug his mother and sister. And Brian. And … Gus.
Gus!
The little boy had hung back a little. His Dadda had told him that Justin was coming, but he wasn’t sure that he knew who Justin was. Then he’d seen the pretty blond man, and remembered him with a rush. But he’d still felt a little shy; until everyone had started hugging Justin and then he just felt left out, so he struggled hard to get down off his cushion-raised seat, and threw himself at Justin’s legs. Justin picked him up laughing.
“Hey, Gus!” he said delightedly, as Gus gave him a loud wet kiss. Then, the little boy in his arms, Justin turned to look at a wryly grinning Brian.
“You!” he said lovingly.
Brian grinned even more.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” his mother urged. “Let me look at you.”
Justin helped Brian get Gus settled again into his chair, and then took the seat on the other side of the table between his mother and sister, where he could sit and watch Brian with his son.
He felt that he must look like a total fool, grinning from ear to ear the way he was, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever, not even in his best moments with Brian, felt so intensely happy.
He was glad to see his family. That was part of it. And very, very glad to have Gus there; to be able to share time with Brian and Gus. But neither of those things were the real source of that happiness. The real source lay in knowing how much Brian must love him to have arranged this particular surprise for him.
Justin knew only too well how Brian felt about families, and he knew his lover wasn’t all that big on Christmas either.
But Brian had put all his own cynical feelings aside to do this for him. He hadn’t even just sent Jenn and Molly to New York, he’d come with them, and was sitting down to this family meal with Justin and his family.
Justin felt the love that had gone into this gift like a tide of warmth filling all the cold lonely places that had been creeping into his heart. He sat on the opposite side of the table from Brian, and while he chattered with his mother and Molly, his eyes shone that love back at his partner, and Brian, likewise felt it warming and healing the loneliness inside him.
*****
They had a great meal, and finally left the hotel, intending to walk down to Rockefeller Center because Molly had pleaded to see the tree, and Brian wanted to walk off some of the food. But then Molly saw the horse drawn carriages that even on Christmas Day lined the entrances to the Park. She stopped and gave a great sigh.
Jennifer frowned, Justin grinned, and Brian looked confused.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded.
“Oh, nothing,” the little drama-princess-in-training responded tragically.
“Molly!” Jenn said warningly.
“I suppose I’ll get to ride in one, one day,” Molly sighed.
Brian’s lips twitched.
Like brother …
The issue stood for a moment in the balance but then Gus chimed in.
“Horsie!” he squealed in delight, having just seen the animals.
The grownups all sighed, and made their way to the crossing.
Gus was thrilled at the idea of being able to go on a carriage ride behind one of the horsies. They handed him up into the carriage with Molly and Jenn, and as it set off, Brian looked sideways at Justin.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Justin protested. “I don’t want to ass about like some fucking tourist any more than you do.”
Brian was about to say that that was a good thing, because he could think of a few things they could do to keep warm while they waited, when he heard the first shriek. He’d heard that sound earlier in the day and knew immediately what it was, and what had caused it.
“Get the next fucking carriage!” he ordered and started running down the path to where the one carrying his screaming son had halted.
Stunned, Justin stood there for a moment, and then did as he was told. By the time Brian had “rescued” his son, there was another carriage pulling up behind. Brian handed Gus up to Justin and then climbed in himself before his son could start again.
The two carriages set off sedately with Gus, pacified and happy now, snuggled next to his father, his little hand on Justin’s knee.
Justin bit his lip. He didn’t dare say anything.
Brian kept his eyes straight ahead. “One word, Sunshine, one word to anyone back home …”
That’s when Justin’s laughter escaped. Brian sat helplessly as his lover laughed his ass off and his son told him what a great time they were having.
Finally, he started to smile. He guessed they were, at that.
*****
Carriage ride over, they walked down through a few softly drifting snowflakes to the Center and dutifully admired the tree. Although to one member of the party at least, it was a bit of a non event. Gus couldn’t seem to take it in. It didn’t at all fit his idea of what a Christmas tree should be, it was just too big. How would they ever get it into the house? he asked. And if they couldn’t, how could Santa leave presents under it? And what use, he clearly felt, was a tree without presents under it?
The adults found they had no answers to these critical questions, and could only admit that Gus was right. The tree was just too big.
It was while they were debating whether there was time before the Taylors’ plane left for them to go back to Justin’s for coffee so that his mother could see where he was living, that Gus saw the skating rink.
“Kate, Dadda!” he said excitedly.
Brian tried to pretend he hadn’t heard him.
“Dadda!” Gus said louder. “Dadda, ‘kate!”
“Ssskate, Gus,” Molly corrected, emphasizing the “s”. “I love to skate,” she added, all but fluttering her eyelashes at Brian.
“I don’t think Dadda knows how to skate, Gus,” Justin chipped in mischievously.
Brian tried to glare at him, but the bright look in his lover’s eyes made his own soften.
“I haven’t skated for years,” Jennifer said wistfully.
Brian sighed and resigned himself. For a few moments as they sorted out skate sizes he clung to the hope that he could just sit and watch, but his son was having none of that. So, hired skates strapped firmly round his ankles, he allowed himself to be dragged onto the ice.
It soon became clear that while he was never going to win any Olympic medals, he could at least hold his own with the Taylors, except perhaps Molly who actually seemed to have quite a knack for it. Not that it was easy to tell, because the rink was so crowded there was no room for anything fancy.
But Gus enjoyed himself hugely, skating between Justin and his Dadda, one hand held firmly by each of them. Jenn and Molly were laughing and trying to do some figure eights in the restricted space, and Justin was simply glowing with joy.
Brian figured that no one was ever going to know, and anyway, who the fuck cared? In a mood of unusual benevolence brought on by a good meal, good wine, the success of his plan, his son’s presence and most of all by the sheer happiness radiating from his partner, he even allowed one of the pesky photographers to take some photos.
He figured his cover story would be that Justin had bribed him with sex.
*****
By the time their half hour skate was over, they needed to go directly to the airport. Jenn was taking Molly back to Pittsburgh to have dinner with her parents, and the Munchers’ plane was due in at around the same time. The guys planned to hand Gus back to his mommies, collect Brian’s suitcase from the luggage lockers, and then they could go home.
Thinking about that, and about the salacious promises of rewards that Justin had been whispering at odd moments all afternoon, got Brian through the next hour or so.
Then, with their ears still ringing with Gus’ final “Bye, Dadda! ‘bye Dus!”, they thankfully climbed into a cab.
*****
There was a brief moment when Brian, though he would have died rather than admit it, thought he might actually be too tired to fuck.
But a hot shared shower, enlivened by his lover carefully washing his dick with a very talented tongue, revived him wonderfully, and he somehow seemed to find the energy to collect on at least a few of Justin’s promises.
Later they sat in front of the heater, ate some of Justin’s thick and tasty home made soup, toasted each other in Glühwein, and unwrapped their other gifts. Justin protested that he’d had his present, but Brian laughed and handed him a thick envelope which contained some gift vouchers for an artist’s supply shop, a six month subway pass, and some supermarket cash. Justin felt tears stinging his eyes. He supposed that the gifts sounded dull and unimaginative. But they were not only for extremely generous amounts, they were things that he really needed. Just like he’d needed today, which had been a gift neither dull, nor unimaginative. It seemed to him that really all the gifts had a lot in common, and that they added up to the most romantic statement that Brian could possibly make. They sent a clear message that Brian was supporting Justin in his decision to come here in all the ways that he could. More importantly, he was here himself to make sure that his partner knew that he was still loved, still wanted, still needed; to make sure that Justin knew that no matter how many miles might lay between the places they were living in right now, they were still together.
Justin had no words to express how much that meant to him. He could only hope that his gift to Brian would give him the same message.
He needed Brian’s help to get it out from behind the couch, since it was more than a little large. Justin laid it carefully on the floor and then placed a Christmas stocking on top of it. Brian gave him a sharp look, and Justin grinned at him.
Brian set the stocking aside for the moment, to open what was clearly one of his partner’s creations.
As he did, he felt a little nervous twitch in his stomach. He’d always loved Justin’s work. More importantly, he’d always understood it. What if this time he didn’t? What if it had some message that he didn’t get? What would that say about their relationship? Would it mean that they were moving apart? That Justin was moving beyond him?
He opened the last of the wrapping, and propped the painting against the silent TV. He felt a lump growing in his throat as he took in the images on the canvas.
In the center, two lovers lay together, in front of an open fire. They were lying on their sides, facing each other, their legs tangled together. By the sheen on their skin, the slightly sweaty look of their hair and the fullness of their lips it was clear that they had just made love. Brian wanted to say they’d fucked, but the expressions on their faces as they looked into each other’s eyes, and the tenderness of the way they were touching each other made it clear that it was more than just fucking.
With a surge of painful emotion, he recognized the scene. It was when he’d taken Justin out to the house, the afternoon when Justin had agreed to marry him. Brian took a deep breath to help himself stay calm, and forced himself to look at the rest of the painting.
Above that dominant central image was another, mistier, less defined, but clearly of the same couple, in the same pose, this time in a bed, lit by soft blue lighting.
Below it, painted in similar fashion to the blue scene, were the lovers once more, this time in a tiny bed that Brian could clearly identify by the ugly quilt that Jenn had insisted Justin take to New York with him, and which Justin refused to turf, saying it kept him warm when Brian wasn’t there.
Brian felt his lips begin to twist into a smile.
The smile widened when he looked at the other images which floated round the outside of the painting. These were much fainter, even more misty, but they all showed the same couple. In one, the Eiffel Tower loomed behind them; in another it was the Tower Bridge; in yet another, the Colosseum, and in another the Bridge of Sighs. They were shown in a forest, and on the beach. One image had mountains in the background, one had the Hollywood sign and one something that looked suspiciously like the gates of Disneyland. There was even one of them in front of the huge outcrop of red rock that Australians call Uluru, a place they’d talked about visiting one day after they’d watched Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. (Brian remembered expressing the hope that they’d run into Guy Pierce.)
At last he looked up from the painting into Justin’s anxious face. With a soft laugh, he reached to tangle his fingers in the fair hair and pull him close enough to kiss. Then he rested his forehead against Justin’s.
“Thank you,” he said softly. Justin lurched forward into his arms and Brian buried his face in his lover’s neck. This time the “thank you” was even softer and sounded slightly muffled, almost as if Brian was having trouble getting the words out.
Justin held him tightly, his own eyes damp, overwhelmingly glad that Brian had understood his message. After a moment, though, he pulled away.
“Aren’t you going to look in your stocking?” he said, with just a hint of teasing in his voice.
Brian grunted, and sat up, grateful that Justin hadn’t let things get too fucking lesbionic. He reached for the stocking and began to pull out the small packages.
As he unwrapped the first, his eyes met Justin’s and he took in his lover’s impish grin. His tongue wandered into his cheek, and he wasn’t at all surprised when the paper parted to reveal a small pack of brightly colored “Christmas condoms”. They were soon joined by a bottle of cinnamon flavored massage oil, a bright green dildo, a cock ring with a band of red feathers and a large tube of lube.
“What am I going to do with all of these?” he wondered aloud.
Then he pounced on his laughing partner and they proceeded to find out.
*****
It was much, much later before they finally settled down to sleep in Justin’s small double bed.
Brian fell asleep almost immediately, his arm protectively, possessively, wrapped around his lover’s shoulders. Justin lay for a while, head pillowed on Brian’s chest, thinking about the day. It had been wonderful. Amazingly, brilliantly wonderful. It had been sad, too, saying goodbye to his family at the airport; but the fun they had all had together would stay warm and bright in his heart for a long, long time. As would his lover’s generosity and kindness.
Tomorrow, they would meet Lindsay and Gus for brunch, while Mel caught up with more of her relations, and then go with Linds to the airport so that he could see Mel and JR even if just for a few minutes.
Then he and Brian would have a whole week of being together, just the two of them.
Of course, after that, Brian would be going back to Pittsburgh, and he’d be alone again.
But Justin refused to think of that right now. Instead he focused on his Plan. If there was one thing that today had confirmed for him, it was that he and Brian definitely belonged together. Not together, apart, the way they were at the moment. But really together, sharing their lives properly. So some time in the coming year he was going to make that happen.
It might be his birthday present to himself. Or his surprise for Brian’s birthday. Or it might be that he’d return home to add to the fireworks on the Fourth.
But, even if it might take a few months longer than he hoped, Justin promised himself that by next Christmas he’d be sleeping with his lover not in his bed, or Brian’s bed, but in their bed. Their shared bed, in their shared home.
And with that happy thought, he fell asleep.
Happy New Year everyone, and may all your dreams be helpful ones.
W
.
Summary: This is set sometime in the first few months after the end of S5. Justin is living in New York. Brian is planning a surprise.
(This was written to allow it to be read as something like a prequel to Homecoming, if that makes any difference.)
Christmas Presence
Request: Brian/Justin; Warm, fuzzy, but not too sugary, Christmas story
Christmas Eve 2005
Justin struggled through the cold and icy streets towards his small apartment, feeling sad and abandoned. Once inside, the tiny tree and the few decorations he’d put up only made him feel worse. He showered, and heated some soup, then, cup in hand, he sat and stared at the phone. Brian would be calling any moment. They both had social engagements that night, and Brian had promised he’d call beforehand. Justin struggled to get himself under control so that he could sound upbeat and happy. He didn’t want to spoil Brian’s Christmas by making Brian worry about him. Besides, even though Brian couldn’t come to New York for Christmas, he’d promised to come for New Year. All Justin had to do was last out the week. And he understood, he really did, why Brian had to stay home for Christmas.
The Munchers had brought the kids back to Pittsburgh for the weekend and Justin knew how much Brian was looking forward to seeing his son again. Even if he didn’t talk about it, would never admit it out loud, Justin knew how much he hated Gus being so far away.
They were all going to be spending the evening at Deb’s. And then Mel and Lindsay were taking the kids back to Michael’s for the night. Brian had been invited to sleep over there as well and, although Brian was predictably snarking about it, Justin hoped that he would give in and agree. He didn’t want to think of Brian all alone on Christmas morning, while Michael got to share it with Gus. If he’d been home, he would have asked Linds …
But he wasn’t home. He was here in New York, trying to make some sort of small impression in the art world.
Theoretically, that was the reason that he hadn’t flown home for Christmas. He’d been invited to an “important” party tonight. It was being given by an elderly gay couple. They were, his agent had told him, very influential contacts. They knew everyone on the New York art scene. Which meant that they knew most of the critics; and enjoyed the flattery and attention of most of the artists, since an invitation to their home meant that you got to be seen, and your name got to be known.
They also seemed to like Justin. Really like him. Or maybe that was just his wishful thinking. He found it hard to read a lot of the people that he met here. He’d thought that the Hollywood crowd were shallow and fickle. But here people were just plain two-faced. And bitchy with it.
He hated it.
He would never have stayed, except that he felt in some obscure way he owed it to Brian to give it his best shot. At least for a while. Brian had, after all, been willing to give up their whole future together to give him this chance. That was bullshit, of course, which Justin had let him know in no uncertain terms. But even so, even if it was only the temporary separation that Justin believed it to be, Brian was giving up the pleasure, the ease, the security, of them being together so that Justin could take the tiny window of opportunity opened by that article all those months ago. The least he could do was to try to make the most of it.
So he stayed, and he tried to play the game, and he worked on his art; while all the while his heart felt like it was breaking. Which is why he couldn’t go home for Christmas. He would never have had the courage to leave again, and he was damned if he was going to let Brian think that he was some weak little pussy faggot who just quit every time the going got tough.
It was while that thought was going through his mind for the millionth time that the phone rang.
Taking a deep breath, he answered it.
*****
Brian had known that Justin was going to find it much harder than he was letting on to be alone at Christmas, and he’d carefully laid his plans accordingly. Now he set the first of them into play.
“Hey!” he greeted his lover laconically.
“Hey!” Justin said tenderly back to him.
“So … looking forward to the big party?”
Brian felt his lover’s shrug even before Justin responded. “Yeah, sure. I mean … at least I’ll get fed. They always have the most amazing food at their place apparently.”
“Free food, free booze, what more can you ask for?”
Justin made a sound that might have been a laugh. Or not.
“Oh, well, you know, hot hung guys.” He fought to keep his tone light and his voice steady. He was not going to whimper like some pathetic little faggot just because he was alone on Christmas Eve.
“Guys?” Brian grinned. “More than one? Greedy.”
He sounded approving and, despite himself, Justin felt his lips twisting into a smile. They played this game of bull-shitting each other well, and for some bizarre reason it always made him feel better.
“Well, you know, the more the merrier,” he responded.
“Yeah, well, just make sure that if anyone stays the night you get rid of them by midday.”
Justin wrinkled his nose, and, in a confused voice that let Brian picture his face exactly, said, “Why? You think that they turn into frogs in the daylight or something?”
Brian grinned, and let the words slide into the phone, “I just don’t want to have to kick them out on their asses.”
Justin sat in silence for a moment. Brian couldn’t mean … he couldn’t mean that he …
He swallowed hard, trying not to get his hopes up.
“You’d need awfully long legs,” he said, struggling to make it sound like he appreciated it as the joke it had to be.
Brian’s face softened, and he was smiling as he said softly, “Not from where I’ll be standing.”
Justin gave a little gasp. “Brian!”
Brian sucked his lips in, then said calmly, “My plane gets in around eleven thirty. I’ll be there to pick you up by twelve thirty. We have reservations at one.”
Justin couldn’t take it in. For some reason, he fixated on the last part. “Reservations?” he heard himself squeak.
“Christmas Dinner, Sunshine,” Brian said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
He heard Justin’s breathing quiver and wished that he was there right now. But he wasn’t. All he could offer was the promise that he would be tomorrow. That by tomorrow night Justin would no longer be alone at Christmas.
“Brian,” Justin made his lover’s name a whole song of gratitude.
Brian found himself smiling even wider. “So … just make sure that they’re out of there by the time I get there. Okay?”
“Okay,” Justin sighed happily. Then he paused. If Brian was coming tomorrow, did that mean he wouldn’t be there for New Year? Or would he go home and then come back again? Or …?
At that thought, Justin’s breath caught in his throat. He fought to keep his voice calm so that he could ask. But before he could get anything out, Brian said, “I was going to book us into a hotel, but you’ve never wanted to do that before. But this time it’s not just for the weekend, so we could. If you want …”
He cursed himself for sounding so fucking awkward. What the hell was wrong with him?
Justin took a moment to keep himself from screaming like a drag queen on heat with sheer excitement. Brian was coming for a whole fucking week! And what a week of fucking it will be, he promised himself. But .. hotel? Did Brian really want the comfort of a hotel, instead of his cramped and shabby little apartment?
“Brian … as long as you’re here … I don’t give a fuck where we are.”
Brian laughed. “Oh, you’ll give a fuck alright. Many, many fucks. You’d better. I fly all that way, you’d better plan on putting out.”
Justin giggled. “You know what I mean. If you want to stay at a hotel …”
“Hey, I just didn’t want you to think I’m cheap,” Brian responded.
“I like having you here,” Justin said softly.
He didn’t say anything more, but Brian heard the rest. He too liked the idea that they were building memories of them being together in Justin’s tiny apartment; liked the notion that those memories helped keep Justin company the way the memories of Justin made the loft seem less empty; made it easier to believe it wouldn’t always be empty.
“Good! The more I save on accommodation, the more I can spend on clothes.”
Justin laughed. It was a sore spot with Brian that despite his frequent weekend visits, they never seemed to find time for him to go clothes shopping. Obviously he was hoping that in the whole week he’d be in New York, he’d manage to find time to actually move out of the apartment.
“Brian,” Justin said, suddenly remembering something. “What about Gus?”
Brian sighed. “I’m spending Christmas Eve with the gang. I’m going to go back to Mikey’s tonight. Be there for the whole fucking present thing tomorrow morning. I think by the time I get on the plane, I’ll be just about Gussied out.”
He didn’t say anything more. He knew it wasn’t true. Justin knew it wasn’t true. But there was still that other little bit of information that Justin didn’t know yet. Brian debated about telling him, but then figured it couldn’t do any harm. It wouldn’t spoil the real surprise, and it would stop Justin feel bad about stealing Brian away from his son.
“Anyway, the girls are flying on to New York later tomorrow themselves. They’re going to have dinner with Mel’s family. A sort of belated Hannukah, or something. Linds thought that maybe we could all find time to have a drink or whatever before they fly back to Toronto the day after.”
Justin gave a delighted little squawk.
“Really? That’s … that’s fantastic! Oh, Brian!” His voice cracked.
“So … back to the subject …” Brian cut in, determined to keep the conversation from descending into maudlin sentiment.
“What subject?” Justin said confused.
“Getting rid of the tricks. You just have to be a complete asshole. No fucking sentimentality. Alright?”
“Well, given that you’re going to be here tomorrow, I thought I might do better to save all that hot sex up for you.”
Brian’s voice conveyed his tongue in cheek smirk, “That sounds like a plan.”
“Unless, of course, you think that you’re just too old to handle it,” Justin teased happily.
“Sunshine, your ass is going to pay the penalty for that one.”
“Bring it on,” Justin laughed, excited and a thousand times happier than he would have believed possible an hour ago.
*****
Brian had everything organized for the next morning. His suitcase was packed and already at Michael’s. The cab was booked. He only had to pick up his surprise and get to the airport.
Everything was planned so it would all go smoothly.
The one thing he hadn’t counted on was Gus.
As soon as he realized that his father was leaving, Gus started to cry. By the time the cab arrived, it had turned into a wail. By the time that Brian had his suitcase in the cab, Gus was howling inconsolably. Linds dragged Mel aside and they had a lively conversation. Mel, scowling, stomped off to the kitchen, while Lindsay caught Brian’s arm as he was trying to get out the door without actually having to surgically remove his son’s arms from round his neck.
“There,” Brian said in relief. “Mommy will look after you and Justin and I will see you tomorrow.”
Gus gave a final sad little hiccup, but allowed himself to be handed to Lindsay. To Brian’s surprise, she put him down. “Honey, why don’t you go out to Momma and let her wipe your face, okay?”
Gus looked suspiciously at Brian, but Lindsay ushered him towards the kitchen, saying, “Dadda won’t leave until you come back.”
“Fuck, Linds!” Brian protested. “Why did you say that? I could have just …”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Lindsay said.
Brian did his best to calm the nerves that had been shattered by his son’s outburst, and waited silently for her to go on.
“I thought … we thought, that you might like to take Gus with you,” she said in a rush.
Brian stared at her.
She shrugged, and gestured at him with open hands. “He’d obviously love to spend more time with you, and I’m sure that Justin would love to see him. I mean, we’ll be in New York tonight anyway, we could pick him up. Or you could bring him to the airport. We can call and work that out later.”
Brian took a slow, careful breath. He knew that this was going to cause friction between Lindsay and her partner. But …
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She smiled at him a little sadly. “I don’t think that Mel can very well complain. I mean, Christmas isn’t even a Jewish holiday. She had him to herself for all of Hannukah.”
Brian bit his thumb, and just then his son came running back, clearly very excited.
“I come with you!” he announced.
Obviously, Mel had pre-empted Brian’s decision. She probably hoped that it wouldn’t be at all convenient for him to take Gus. Probably thought that he had a whole fuckfest planned with Justin. Well, he did. But not this afternoon. He had other plans for this afternoon. And Gus would fit into those very well.
He shrugged, told the cab driver he’d be a few more minutes, slipping him a twenty as he did. Then, while the girls got Gus ready, he called the airport, called the restaurant, and made one more phone call.
By the time he got on the plane, he was feeling very pleased with himself indeed. His Christmas surprise for Justin was going to be even better than he’d hoped.
*****
The plane was a little delayed, which, in a way, made things even easier. He called Justin from the cab and asked him to get a cab to the restaurant and meet him there.
“It’s Atelier’s”, he told him. “It’s at the Ritz-Carlton on Central Park. The booking’s in my name.”
By the time Justin got there, the surprise was all set.
Justin was out of breath when he arrived. Despite Brian’s instructions, he’d come by subway rather than by cab, and he’d spent too long deciding what to wear, which had left him behind time, so he’d almost run the couple of blocks to the restaurant. He was a little puzzled that Brian had arranged for them to go out, even for Christmas. Maybe especially for Christmas. He would almost have preferred to stay home and just throw some food together if they got hungry later. But at the same time, he was touched that his lover had wanted to do something to recognize Christmas and make the day special for him, for them.
He gave Brian’s name to the Host, and was escorted to the table.
But this couldn’t be the right table. This wasn’t a table for two. This was a family table, with other people already …
Then the people turned to smile at him and he stood stock still for a moment fighting the shock, and the tears. Then he was moving past the Host to hug his mother and sister. And Brian. And … Gus.
Gus!
The little boy had hung back a little. His Dadda had told him that Justin was coming, but he wasn’t sure that he knew who Justin was. Then he’d seen the pretty blond man, and remembered him with a rush. But he’d still felt a little shy; until everyone had started hugging Justin and then he just felt left out, so he struggled hard to get down off his cushion-raised seat, and threw himself at Justin’s legs. Justin picked him up laughing.
“Hey, Gus!” he said delightedly, as Gus gave him a loud wet kiss. Then, the little boy in his arms, Justin turned to look at a wryly grinning Brian.
“You!” he said lovingly.
Brian grinned even more.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” his mother urged. “Let me look at you.”
Justin helped Brian get Gus settled again into his chair, and then took the seat on the other side of the table between his mother and sister, where he could sit and watch Brian with his son.
He felt that he must look like a total fool, grinning from ear to ear the way he was, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever, not even in his best moments with Brian, felt so intensely happy.
He was glad to see his family. That was part of it. And very, very glad to have Gus there; to be able to share time with Brian and Gus. But neither of those things were the real source of that happiness. The real source lay in knowing how much Brian must love him to have arranged this particular surprise for him.
Justin knew only too well how Brian felt about families, and he knew his lover wasn’t all that big on Christmas either.
But Brian had put all his own cynical feelings aside to do this for him. He hadn’t even just sent Jenn and Molly to New York, he’d come with them, and was sitting down to this family meal with Justin and his family.
Justin felt the love that had gone into this gift like a tide of warmth filling all the cold lonely places that had been creeping into his heart. He sat on the opposite side of the table from Brian, and while he chattered with his mother and Molly, his eyes shone that love back at his partner, and Brian, likewise felt it warming and healing the loneliness inside him.
*****
They had a great meal, and finally left the hotel, intending to walk down to Rockefeller Center because Molly had pleaded to see the tree, and Brian wanted to walk off some of the food. But then Molly saw the horse drawn carriages that even on Christmas Day lined the entrances to the Park. She stopped and gave a great sigh.
Jennifer frowned, Justin grinned, and Brian looked confused.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded.
“Oh, nothing,” the little drama-princess-in-training responded tragically.
“Molly!” Jenn said warningly.
“I suppose I’ll get to ride in one, one day,” Molly sighed.
Brian’s lips twitched.
Like brother …
The issue stood for a moment in the balance but then Gus chimed in.
“Horsie!” he squealed in delight, having just seen the animals.
The grownups all sighed, and made their way to the crossing.
Gus was thrilled at the idea of being able to go on a carriage ride behind one of the horsies. They handed him up into the carriage with Molly and Jenn, and as it set off, Brian looked sideways at Justin.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Justin protested. “I don’t want to ass about like some fucking tourist any more than you do.”
Brian was about to say that that was a good thing, because he could think of a few things they could do to keep warm while they waited, when he heard the first shriek. He’d heard that sound earlier in the day and knew immediately what it was, and what had caused it.
“Get the next fucking carriage!” he ordered and started running down the path to where the one carrying his screaming son had halted.
Stunned, Justin stood there for a moment, and then did as he was told. By the time Brian had “rescued” his son, there was another carriage pulling up behind. Brian handed Gus up to Justin and then climbed in himself before his son could start again.
The two carriages set off sedately with Gus, pacified and happy now, snuggled next to his father, his little hand on Justin’s knee.
Justin bit his lip. He didn’t dare say anything.
Brian kept his eyes straight ahead. “One word, Sunshine, one word to anyone back home …”
That’s when Justin’s laughter escaped. Brian sat helplessly as his lover laughed his ass off and his son told him what a great time they were having.
Finally, he started to smile. He guessed they were, at that.
*****
Carriage ride over, they walked down through a few softly drifting snowflakes to the Center and dutifully admired the tree. Although to one member of the party at least, it was a bit of a non event. Gus couldn’t seem to take it in. It didn’t at all fit his idea of what a Christmas tree should be, it was just too big. How would they ever get it into the house? he asked. And if they couldn’t, how could Santa leave presents under it? And what use, he clearly felt, was a tree without presents under it?
The adults found they had no answers to these critical questions, and could only admit that Gus was right. The tree was just too big.
It was while they were debating whether there was time before the Taylors’ plane left for them to go back to Justin’s for coffee so that his mother could see where he was living, that Gus saw the skating rink.
“Kate, Dadda!” he said excitedly.
Brian tried to pretend he hadn’t heard him.
“Dadda!” Gus said louder. “Dadda, ‘kate!”
“Ssskate, Gus,” Molly corrected, emphasizing the “s”. “I love to skate,” she added, all but fluttering her eyelashes at Brian.
“I don’t think Dadda knows how to skate, Gus,” Justin chipped in mischievously.
Brian tried to glare at him, but the bright look in his lover’s eyes made his own soften.
“I haven’t skated for years,” Jennifer said wistfully.
Brian sighed and resigned himself. For a few moments as they sorted out skate sizes he clung to the hope that he could just sit and watch, but his son was having none of that. So, hired skates strapped firmly round his ankles, he allowed himself to be dragged onto the ice.
It soon became clear that while he was never going to win any Olympic medals, he could at least hold his own with the Taylors, except perhaps Molly who actually seemed to have quite a knack for it. Not that it was easy to tell, because the rink was so crowded there was no room for anything fancy.
But Gus enjoyed himself hugely, skating between Justin and his Dadda, one hand held firmly by each of them. Jenn and Molly were laughing and trying to do some figure eights in the restricted space, and Justin was simply glowing with joy.
Brian figured that no one was ever going to know, and anyway, who the fuck cared? In a mood of unusual benevolence brought on by a good meal, good wine, the success of his plan, his son’s presence and most of all by the sheer happiness radiating from his partner, he even allowed one of the pesky photographers to take some photos.
He figured his cover story would be that Justin had bribed him with sex.
*****
By the time their half hour skate was over, they needed to go directly to the airport. Jenn was taking Molly back to Pittsburgh to have dinner with her parents, and the Munchers’ plane was due in at around the same time. The guys planned to hand Gus back to his mommies, collect Brian’s suitcase from the luggage lockers, and then they could go home.
Thinking about that, and about the salacious promises of rewards that Justin had been whispering at odd moments all afternoon, got Brian through the next hour or so.
Then, with their ears still ringing with Gus’ final “Bye, Dadda! ‘bye Dus!”, they thankfully climbed into a cab.
*****
There was a brief moment when Brian, though he would have died rather than admit it, thought he might actually be too tired to fuck.
But a hot shared shower, enlivened by his lover carefully washing his dick with a very talented tongue, revived him wonderfully, and he somehow seemed to find the energy to collect on at least a few of Justin’s promises.
Later they sat in front of the heater, ate some of Justin’s thick and tasty home made soup, toasted each other in Glühwein, and unwrapped their other gifts. Justin protested that he’d had his present, but Brian laughed and handed him a thick envelope which contained some gift vouchers for an artist’s supply shop, a six month subway pass, and some supermarket cash. Justin felt tears stinging his eyes. He supposed that the gifts sounded dull and unimaginative. But they were not only for extremely generous amounts, they were things that he really needed. Just like he’d needed today, which had been a gift neither dull, nor unimaginative. It seemed to him that really all the gifts had a lot in common, and that they added up to the most romantic statement that Brian could possibly make. They sent a clear message that Brian was supporting Justin in his decision to come here in all the ways that he could. More importantly, he was here himself to make sure that his partner knew that he was still loved, still wanted, still needed; to make sure that Justin knew that no matter how many miles might lay between the places they were living in right now, they were still together.
Justin had no words to express how much that meant to him. He could only hope that his gift to Brian would give him the same message.
He needed Brian’s help to get it out from behind the couch, since it was more than a little large. Justin laid it carefully on the floor and then placed a Christmas stocking on top of it. Brian gave him a sharp look, and Justin grinned at him.
Brian set the stocking aside for the moment, to open what was clearly one of his partner’s creations.
As he did, he felt a little nervous twitch in his stomach. He’d always loved Justin’s work. More importantly, he’d always understood it. What if this time he didn’t? What if it had some message that he didn’t get? What would that say about their relationship? Would it mean that they were moving apart? That Justin was moving beyond him?
He opened the last of the wrapping, and propped the painting against the silent TV. He felt a lump growing in his throat as he took in the images on the canvas.
In the center, two lovers lay together, in front of an open fire. They were lying on their sides, facing each other, their legs tangled together. By the sheen on their skin, the slightly sweaty look of their hair and the fullness of their lips it was clear that they had just made love. Brian wanted to say they’d fucked, but the expressions on their faces as they looked into each other’s eyes, and the tenderness of the way they were touching each other made it clear that it was more than just fucking.
With a surge of painful emotion, he recognized the scene. It was when he’d taken Justin out to the house, the afternoon when Justin had agreed to marry him. Brian took a deep breath to help himself stay calm, and forced himself to look at the rest of the painting.
Above that dominant central image was another, mistier, less defined, but clearly of the same couple, in the same pose, this time in a bed, lit by soft blue lighting.
Below it, painted in similar fashion to the blue scene, were the lovers once more, this time in a tiny bed that Brian could clearly identify by the ugly quilt that Jenn had insisted Justin take to New York with him, and which Justin refused to turf, saying it kept him warm when Brian wasn’t there.
Brian felt his lips begin to twist into a smile.
The smile widened when he looked at the other images which floated round the outside of the painting. These were much fainter, even more misty, but they all showed the same couple. In one, the Eiffel Tower loomed behind them; in another it was the Tower Bridge; in yet another, the Colosseum, and in another the Bridge of Sighs. They were shown in a forest, and on the beach. One image had mountains in the background, one had the Hollywood sign and one something that looked suspiciously like the gates of Disneyland. There was even one of them in front of the huge outcrop of red rock that Australians call Uluru, a place they’d talked about visiting one day after they’d watched Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. (Brian remembered expressing the hope that they’d run into Guy Pierce.)
At last he looked up from the painting into Justin’s anxious face. With a soft laugh, he reached to tangle his fingers in the fair hair and pull him close enough to kiss. Then he rested his forehead against Justin’s.
“Thank you,” he said softly. Justin lurched forward into his arms and Brian buried his face in his lover’s neck. This time the “thank you” was even softer and sounded slightly muffled, almost as if Brian was having trouble getting the words out.
Justin held him tightly, his own eyes damp, overwhelmingly glad that Brian had understood his message. After a moment, though, he pulled away.
“Aren’t you going to look in your stocking?” he said, with just a hint of teasing in his voice.
Brian grunted, and sat up, grateful that Justin hadn’t let things get too fucking lesbionic. He reached for the stocking and began to pull out the small packages.
As he unwrapped the first, his eyes met Justin’s and he took in his lover’s impish grin. His tongue wandered into his cheek, and he wasn’t at all surprised when the paper parted to reveal a small pack of brightly colored “Christmas condoms”. They were soon joined by a bottle of cinnamon flavored massage oil, a bright green dildo, a cock ring with a band of red feathers and a large tube of lube.
“What am I going to do with all of these?” he wondered aloud.
Then he pounced on his laughing partner and they proceeded to find out.
*****
It was much, much later before they finally settled down to sleep in Justin’s small double bed.
Brian fell asleep almost immediately, his arm protectively, possessively, wrapped around his lover’s shoulders. Justin lay for a while, head pillowed on Brian’s chest, thinking about the day. It had been wonderful. Amazingly, brilliantly wonderful. It had been sad, too, saying goodbye to his family at the airport; but the fun they had all had together would stay warm and bright in his heart for a long, long time. As would his lover’s generosity and kindness.
Tomorrow, they would meet Lindsay and Gus for brunch, while Mel caught up with more of her relations, and then go with Linds to the airport so that he could see Mel and JR even if just for a few minutes.
Then he and Brian would have a whole week of being together, just the two of them.
Of course, after that, Brian would be going back to Pittsburgh, and he’d be alone again.
But Justin refused to think of that right now. Instead he focused on his Plan. If there was one thing that today had confirmed for him, it was that he and Brian definitely belonged together. Not together, apart, the way they were at the moment. But really together, sharing their lives properly. So some time in the coming year he was going to make that happen.
It might be his birthday present to himself. Or his surprise for Brian’s birthday. Or it might be that he’d return home to add to the fireworks on the Fourth.
But, even if it might take a few months longer than he hoped, Justin promised himself that by next Christmas he’d be sleeping with his lover not in his bed, or Brian’s bed, but in their bed. Their shared bed, in their shared home.
And with that happy thought, he fell asleep.
Happy New Year everyone, and may all your dreams be helpful ones.
W
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