"I wonder what Christmas concoction Linds has up her sleeve for tonight," Justin mused, passing Melanie's empty wine glass to Brian, who filled it.

"Figgy pudding? Dancing sugar plums? Candy canes made from scratch?" Brian offered, reaching for Lindsay's glass, before finishing by topping of Justin's and his own.

"Orrrrrr," Lindsay dragged out, coming back into the room, a decadent-looking cake on the platter she was carrying, "Chocolate-chocolate chip!" She set the cake on the table, and smiled at Brian, squeezing his shoulder as she passed behind him to return to her own seat.

Justin glanced over at his husband, a little hesitant about what he would find, but was relieved to see that Brian just gazed steadily at the cake, a small smile on his lips.

"Looks good," he said softly, giving Lindsay a meaningful look. If Gus was confused why his normally sweets-opposed father wasn't making a big deal about the rich, fudgy pile of calories, especially when a generous slice was placed in front of him, he wisely chose not to comment.

"What do you think?" Lindsay asked casually, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin after trying her first bite. "I followed the recipe exactly, so hopefully it turned out--"

"It did," Brian cut her off.

"It's really great, Linds," Justin added, and really the cake was fantastic. The particular combination happened to secretly be Brian's favorite, and they'd had it in various iterations over the years, but this was one of the better ones Justin could remember. From his genuine reaction, Brian seemed to agree.

"I can't believe I didn't know you were making this," Gus commented. "You kept it from me!"

They all chuckled at his mock-offense.

"That's because I actually wanted some cake leftover for when we served it," Lindsay teased, reaching over to ruffle her son's hair.

"Hey, I'm a growing boy," Gus shot back with a grin, stretching his six-foot frame for emphasis. At seventeen, he was already taller than both of his mothers, as well as Justin. Only Brian managed to maintain about two inches on his son.

"I suppose you could've at least licked the bowl," Lindsay relented, shrugging apologetically. "Oh well. Next time!"

Once dessert was finished, Brian and Justin helped them clear the rest of the table, and, despite Lindsay's protests about them being guests, assisted with the washing and putting away of dishes as well. When everything was finished, they all settled in the living room.

"Maybe there's a good Christmas movie on," Lindsay suggested, gesturing at the television. She was seated with Melanie on the loveseat while Brian sat between Justin and Gus on the large sofa. The plate of cookies still sat temptingly on the coffee table, but after Lindsay's substantial meal, no one dared to touch them.

After some dedicated channel surfing, Gus declared everything on TV to be "crap," and they ended up watching an episode of House Hunters that was, ironically, set in Pittsburgh.

"I'm surprised they don't have more shows dedicated specifically to Canada up here," Justin commented as another episode started, this one set in Indianapolis.

"Practically all of HGTV's shows were set in Toronto when it was becoming more popular," Melanie pointed out. "Most of the original show hosts were Canadian. A lot still are. In fact, a cousin of the Scott brothers actually works within our firm."

"That's pretty cool," Justin said, reaching over to lace his fingers through Brian's, resting their interlocked hands on Brian's thigh.

At one point, Lindsay offered to bring in another bottle of wine for the adults (despite Gus' best attempts to argue that he was only two years away from being legal), and Melanie joined her in the kitchen to assist with carrying glasses.

"Brian's unusually quiet," Melanie observed, trying to keep her voice down as she pulled four stemless wine tumblers from their cabinet of barware.

"Well," Lindsay said, trying to decide between bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir. "I'm sure they're both tired from the drive."

Melanie nodded. "Yeah, eight hours in the car is a bitch. But something still seems 'off' to me. You don't sense it?"

Lindsay shrugged, wondering how much of this was tied to her decision to make the cake she'd chosen. Part of her wondered if maybe she should've cleared it with Brian or Justin first, just as a precaution, but Brian didn't really seem upset, just contemplative. It really had been intended as a kind gesture, so she hoped Brian would know her well enough to understand that. "If there's something Brian wants to talk about, I'm sure he will," she said, settling on the Cab. "I know the holidays have always been difficult for him, so that's why I'm so focused on making sure everything goes well while they're here."

"I know," Melanie said, walking over to Lindsay and wrapping her arms around her wife. "He's lucky to have someone who knows him and cares for him as well as you do. But I think everything we have planned will be great, with or without the extra pomp and circumstance. You know what holidays at Debbie's are like every year. I think low-key will be something everyone can appreciate -- you included."

Lindsay nodded, smiling and accepting the kiss Melanie offered. "You're right. I'll try to dial it back this week."

They gathered the wine supplies and a bottle of Gatorade for Gus and headed back into the living room where the three men had apparently found and settled on Home Alone, which appeared to be about halfway over.

They watched the rest of the movie together, enjoying the lighthearted laughter it brought. Gus could hardly believe that Justin was around the same age as the main character when the movie had first come out, especially when Brian revealed that he'd been 21 at the time.

"Watch what you say, young man," Lindsay warned teasingly. "Your dad and I are the same age."

Gus held his hands up in surrender.

"Good move," Melanie, the eldest of all four adults, joked, nudging her son's calf with her toe.

When all peace was restored in the McAllister household, Gus decided he was going to bed, and Justin -- sensing that Brian still had something on his mind -- announced that they would follow suit. Everyone said goodnight, leaving Lindsay and Melanie in front of the TV to watch the news before heading upstairs themselves.

Justin intended to question Brian as soon as they got to their room, but no sooner had he opened his mouth than Brian murmured his intention to shower and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him before he disappeared across the hall to the bathroom.

For a brief moment, Justin considered slipping in to join him, but figured the closed door was symbolic of Brian wanting a little space, and knew it was best to grant it. Hopefully the time alone would give Brian an opportunity to sort out his thoughts and decide how much he was willing to discuss with his husband.

Instead, Justin took the alone-time to sort through a couple of the gifts he'd hidden among his personal bag, preparing them to add to the surprise for Brian that Lindsay was already keeping for him in her closet. He'd finished and was lounging on the bed when Brian walked back in, dressed in sleep pants and a t-shirt.

"All yours," Brian said, offering Justin a tentative smile.

Justin nodded, standing up. "Thanks," he said, grabbing the few items he'd need to prepare for bed and heading across the hall himself.

By the time he returned to the bedroom, dressed in pajamas as well, Brian was in bed, propped up against two pillows with his eyes closed, but Justin knew he wasn't asleep. After he'd closed and locked the door, he crawled onto the bed. Brian opened his eyes as soon as he felt the movement.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey," Justin echoed, situating himself on his side so he could look at his husband. "You've been about a million miles away most of the night."

Brian huffed out a small laugh. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Justin said, reaching out and gently stroking the exposed skin along the length of Brian's arm. "Where's your head?"

"About a million years away. At least that's what it feels like."

Justin figured there was no point in beating around the bush, especially since it seemed that Brian was actually willing to engage in the topic, so he cut right to the point. "Are you okay?"

Brian shrugged noncommittally. "I think so. It's… it's not what you think."

Justin raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for Brian to continue, while continuing the lazy pace of his fingers up and down Brian's forearm and bicep.

"I'm not… upset. It's… actually not bad at all. Maybe that's the problem."

"That you don't know what to do with a good memory?" Justin guessed, realizing that Brian's struggle was actually with the fact that chocolate chocolate chip cake was something his mom had sometimes made as a treat for him -- a rare positive highlight of his childhood, among the mostly negative memories that he associated with the majority of his time spent with Joan and Jack Kinney.

"It's complicated," Brian sighed. "But pretty much, yeah. This whole fucking time of year is just-- I mean, you know. You've been around me long enough to understand. And Lindsay, too. She…" Brian trailed off, turning his head away from Justin, seemingly needing a moment to collect himself. When he looked back, his eyes were slightly glassy. "She used the same recipe. Betty-fucking-Crocker. Joan had this battered orange cookbook from the 70s… I don't know where Linds found the exact recipe, but that was it. I'm sure of it."

"It was a fantastic cake," Justin said, moving closer to Brian in an effort to provide comfort. "I know I've tried to make other recipes, but that one was better."

Brian sighed again. "It's just… fucked up, you know? This random sprinkling of not-so-awful memories among the shit that defined my formative years. But I appreciate that Lindsay remembered. And that I don't need to explain that much of it to you now. Because I don't know how I would if I had to."

Justin stopped stroking Brian's arm to reach for his waist, and gently coaxed him onto his side so they could lie facing each other. It was a vulnerable position for Brian, having to look Justin directly in the eyes, but after seventeen years together, he went willingly, knowing he would only find love and understanding with no sign of judgment in the blue eyes looking back at him.

"It's okay to hold onto the good too," Justin said softly, pushing a piece of damp hair away from Brian's face. "Especially during the holidays. And this year will be really special, because it's just us -- our little family with Mel and Linds and Gus. And my mom. And… I guess in a way, with the cake, it's a small positive way that your mom can be a part of it too."

"The only way I'd want her part of it," Brian snorted. "Can you imagine what Saint Joan would have to say about the sheer lack of Jesus in this house if we'd invited her?"

Justin laughed, happy to hear Brian sounding more like himself again. He leaned up and gave Brian a kiss, feeling it deepen as Brian's arms finally came around him, pulling him close. There was still a lingering desperation in Brian's kisses that Justin could sense, and he knew he wanted to do what he could to make sure that Brian felt well-cared for and loved.

He wasn't sure if Brian's original intention had been for them to have sex that night or not, especially considering that he'd come to bed fully clothed -- which was a rarity, even taking into account the part where they were guests in someone else's home. Regardless, Justin had something in mind, because he knew that if anything worked to soothe Brian's soul during complicated times, it was a mind-blowing orgasm.

Justin gently extracted himself from Brian's arms, ignoring Brian's protest when their lips separated, and instead, he began kissing a gentle trail down Brian's neck, and over his clothed collarbones, before pushing up his t-shirt to expose his abdomen and chest. He turned his attention to Brian's nipples, licking and biting at them until he was moaning softly, and then worked his way across Brian's stomach, circling his belly button, and then pressing kisses to Brian's lower torso until he reached the edge of the soft cotton sleep pants.

Surprisingly, when Justin lowered Brian's pants to just below his hips, enough to expose his groin, he found that Brian wasn't actually aroused at all yet. Sometimes, despite that he was nearing fifty, Brian was still like a horny teenager, hard and ready to go within a split second of when the mere suggestion of sex entered the picture. But tonight, his non-response told Justin just how affected Brian was feeling. Then again, Justin thought, ongoing thoughts of Joan Kinney would be enough to kill even the most determined hard-on.

Just to be sure, he glanced up and gave Brian a questioning look, and Brian simply gave a single nod back and spread his legs slightly, his eyes glazed as he focused intently on whatever Justin was about to do. Clearly he was interested; he just needed his body to cooperate. Fortunately, as soon as Justin took Brian's soft cock into his mouth, it began to respond, eventually allowing Justin to put his deepthroating skills to good use as he skillfully brought his husband to the height of pleasure, knowing exactly what sensations and pressure drove Brian crazy.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Brian murmured, practically under his breath, as Justin worked his magic, and Brian's fingers tangled in and tugged at Justin's hair.

Justin smiled around his mouthful of Brian's cock, humming gently and using his free hand to push Brian's pants lower so he could stimulate his balls -- and back even further -- causing Brian to let out a moan that he had to bury in his forearm to muffle the sound. As Justin realized that Brian was getting closer to his climax, he started paying more explicit attention to Brian's perineum while he continued his oral ministrations, applying delicate but firm strokes that he'd discovered gave Brian a far more intense orgasm than just via his mouth alone. Usually, he didn't bother to go this route if he knew Brian was going to end up fucking him, but tonight, he wanted to pull out all the stops, and he knew that this technique actually came close to simulating the type of orgasm he experienced when he bottomed, without having to manually engage Brian's prostate.

"Oh shit, Jesus fucking Christ," Brian chanted, fortunately keeping his voice down, as his orgasm overtook him with a massive shudder. Justin held him in his mouth until he finished coming, and then swallowed and carefully tucked Brian's spent cock back into his underwear and replaced his pajama bottoms before crawling back up to the head of the bed.

"Feel good?" he asked, his voice raspy from his vigorous efforts.

Brian snorted, still looking a bit out of sorts. "That's the understatement of the year. You are a fucking champion. I think you just sucked my brain out through my cock."

Justin smiled, leaning in to give Brian a kiss. "I learned from the best."

Brian smirked, but still looked pleased by the compliment, even despite nearly two decades of Justin having thousands of other opportunities to perfect his skills. He started to move toward Justin as if he planned to reciprocate, but Justin stopped him.

"No, no. That was just for you."

"But you--" Brian frowned, gesturing at the obvious bulge still remaining in Justin's pajama pants.

Justin reached down under the fabric and cupped himself, squeezing gently. "Why don't you just give me a hand instead?"

And before they fell asleep, curled around each other in sated bliss, Brian did just that.