Tag: fluff

December 23rd

It’s one day before Christmas and they’re visiting Noel’s grave. Marco leans heavily against Jean, lets him carry that burden once, the only day out of 365 where Jean is allowed to help and Marco is allowed to be weak and cry over his little brother’s death. It’s snowing when they return, and the bouquet of red roses and white lilies looks beautiful. Noel would have loved them, Marco says. Jean nods and stops, getting on his tiptoes to kiss Marco’s forehead. Then he presses a butterfly-soft kiss to his temples, trailing them down until he tastes the salt of Marco’s lips.

It’s only us left now, Jean whispers and a sob rips from Marco’s wounded chest, deep within where he carries his family and Jean’s parents and all those people they’ve lost. Their hands lace up, two golden rings gleaming in the rising winter sun’s light.

We still have us, Marco says after a long time. And her, Jean says softly and pushes his reading glasses higher on his nose. When he smiles, there’s crinkles around his eyes, laughter lines that years of happiness with his husband painted on his face like a canvas that’s only filled after it’s been through life, love, pain.

Their daughter comes running back with a collection of dirty, snow-wet stones in her tiny hands and excitedly signs some words to Marco. He replies with a loving gesture in sign language and their little girl smiles, nodding and running forward, towards the graveyard’s exit where Jean parked their car and their grown-up son is waiting with the dog excitedly tearing at its leash.

December 14th.

He forgot his jacket at home, and when Levi leaves university a few hours later, it’s snowing. Two weeks til Christmas, gold and red everywhere, people in fluffy hats and warm coats. He’s the first to get out of the classroom, anything to get away from those Christmas-addicts talking about presents and family. The ground is covered in soft white flakes, his steps scrunch when he’s making his way home. He regrets not skipping that stupid class. He could be in front of his heater, a nice mug of black tea in his hands, watching Little Shop of Horrors. Levi’s mood is sinking with every minute outside, and shoving his fingers into his jeans’ pockets doesn’t help. The tips are slowly getting blue and Levi stops to blow on them, hoping that his breath isn’t as cold – well, fuck.

Suddenly the wind stops and a warm weight falls on his shoulders. Levi looks up to find a tall man smiling down at him, and fuck he’s handsome and has gorgeous blue eyes, and that jacket has to be his because he’s only in an ugly red and white Christmas sweater now. Levi recognises him – he’s going to the same class. The man grins wider. “Hi,” he says, and that’s when Levi sneezes, and the next second, that guy wraps the jacket all around him and asks “how about I treat you to a tea to warm you up?”

Levi doesn’t know what that guy’s up to. But the stranger says his name is Erwin, and that’s a nice name, warm and fluffy like the jacket. Levi loves tea, and free tea is even better. “Okay… Erwin.”