The lights on the Christmas tree make the tinsel on the windows twinkle.

Justin's hair reflects the colours, lighting green and red and blue. A gentle hue of darker yellow.

Brian find happiness here, laying beneath the decorations he was blackmailed into buying.

Listening to the soft snores of his lover, watching the ornaments glitter and spin with the soft breeze from the broken window that has never closed.

He wonders how he went so long without this, how he spent so many years lonely, angry at the sight of the seasons first snow.

He lets his body zero in on the gentle rise and fall of Justin's chest against his own, and falls asleep to the red, green, blue, yellow of his first Christmas tree.

---

Gus brings him ornaments.

A small hand print, and a pom-pom snowman that he'd made at pre-school.

"All by my own self, Daddy!"

He spends far too long searching for the perfect branch to hang them from, his chubby little fingers moving Justin's specifically placed ornaments to make way for his own.

The domesticity of it doesn't scare Brian, not right now, with Lindsey rummaging through his kitchen for an apple for Gus. His son naming colours under his breath as they flash around the tree.

Gus doesn't make a big deal of it. Christmas trees are normal for him.

---

Justin drags him Christmas shopping. The Wishlist Gus had sent Santa tucked away in his back pocket.

"We can get him three things, Brian Kinney. Three."

Brian laughs at the glare Justin sends him later that night, when they've run out of wrapping paper and his fingers tips are torn from the tape dispensers edge.

"You brought him like fifteen things. You should be the one doing this!"

---

The Christmas spirit isn't as daunting as it used to be, and Brian smiles more at the sights of kids in snow hats.

Justin will want children one day, Brian thinks, and maybe Brian will give in to that too.

---

On Christmas Eve, the pain catches up.

When Justin laughs through Christmas traditions with his mother and Molly, their paper crowns broken and soggy from snow, Brian's fists clenched in his jacket pockets because Christmas wasn't meant to be a happy time.

They stay the whole day, sit through crappy Christmas movies, a long lunch and a gift exchange that Brian refuses to participate in.

"I'd prefer to wait."

He'd said.

"Not all families have Christmas Eve presents." Jennifer had replied, with a look of warning at her son when he'd looked ready to complain.

---

They stumbled through the loft door at eight, their body's heavy and tired, fighting food comas for just a little while longer. Just a few more steps.

Sunshine's smile wasn't nearly as infectious today, wasn't enough to take his hatred for this holiday away.

Sleep came easy when Justin fell onto the bed.

---

Brian didn't rest for long, his feet dragging him to the kitchen for a drink of water, his eyes falling on the unopened present he'd received from his boyfriends family, laying almost forgotten on the coffee table.

He'd sat there for a while, his lungs too tight and his body too tired.

Justin found him a while later.

---

The silence was deafening, but Justin's breathing was light and he wasn't snoring, so Brian guessed he was just resting against him.

He'd tucked himself under Brian's arm, buried his head against his chest, and laid there. Quietly.

"My family never had any traditions. My mother would make cold meat sandwiches and Pop would drink and smoke until his hugs make my lungs hurt, that was it."

Brian's whispers were almost a breath, almost too quiet for even him to hear. But he'd said it. All of it. And Justin had heard.

"We'll make our own."

It was simple, and Justin's voice was sleepy, but it was enough for now.

---

There were presents under the tree when he woke. Just a few.

Some small boxes and some bigger, but nothing too large.

Brian fought the urge to smile.

Justin set a plate before him, his shirtless chest splattered with pancake batter and a spot of syrup.

"Just in time."

Justin's smile was radiant and contagious as he snickered to himself, sitting down next to Brian as he muttered a low "Justin time" which was followed by a giggle.

There was something warm in his chest, that pulled and pulled and pulled until he softly dragged Justin's face towards his, the faint taste of peppermint pancakes and coffee on his tongue.

"That can be our first tradition," Justin stated, a happy smile on his lips as they parted. "Christmas kiss."

---
I