“Where are we going?” Gus asked a few hours later from the passenger seat of the Porsche as Brian parked the car in a location he hadn’t been anticipating.
Brian gave him a sidelong glance and shrugged. “You said you had to finish Christmas shopping and insisted it would be better than staying at home with your mother.”
Gus nodded, recalling the conversation he’d had privately with Justin, shortly after breakfast:
“Can you try to get him out of the house?” Justin had asked. “I need to get everything for his gift wrapped and hidden, and naturally this is the ONE day he wants to stay at home…”
“Hmm,” Gus had replied, tapping his chin. “I think I finished my shopping, but I guess I could come up with something. Is there anything you still need?”
Justin had scrunched his face in thought and finally shrugged. “Not really. Maybe see if you can find something else for your moms? I don’t think he’ll buy it otherwise. Just try to keep him away for a couple hours.”
Gus had saluted. “Consider it done.”
“Um, it’s Christmas Eve. And you’ve known my mom for, like, 500 years. You know how she’s gonna be today. Trust me. You’d rather be here with me,” Gus teased his dad.
“500 years, huh?” Brian raised an eyebrow at his son before getting out of the car. He’d not been terribly impressed with Gus’ ‘admission’ of still needing gifts the day before they were to be given, but, in holding true to his “anything for Sonny Boy” mantra, Brian had willingly gone along with the request, successfully and unknowingly engaging in Justin’s plan.
Gus smirked, falling into step with Brian as they walked toward the entrance. “Am I wrong?” He paused, exchanging a knowing grin with his dad. “But I thought we were going to the mall.”
“And I thought we didn’t use that word,” Brian quipped, instead directing Gus toward his shops of choice, beginning with Dolce & Gabbana.
Gus gazed around looking hesitant, and casually glanced at a pair of gray, dramatically rectangular sunglasses. “Holy shit, even these are over $200?” he gasped, immediately putting them back down. “God, Dad. I was thinking, like, Banana Republic or The Gap… or like, Bed, Bath & Beyond. Not… designer shit. I can’t afford any of this. And Mom, Ima and Gigi would all kill me even if I could.”
Brian opened his mouth to respond, but Gus cut him off before anything could come out.
“And you’re not paying for it. That’s not the point.”
Brian frowned, but seemed to acquiesce. “Fine. But we’re shopping my way first.”
There was a solid round of luxury stores that resulted in Brian making a few purchases for himself and Justin, as well as a zip-neck cashmere sweater for Gus that he’d tried to protest until Brian made him try it on. When he saw how the pine-green color brought out his eyes, and how soft the material felt, he gave in, trying to ignore Brian’s satisfied smirk.
Eventually, Gus had been able to find a suitable “gift” in a sherpa-lined blanket for their living room, once they did make it to Bed, Bath & Beyond, despite Brian’s protests.
(“Jesus Christ, Dad. You’re not going to get mugged,” Gus had snarked at one point, as Brian had lingered behind him upon entering the store.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Brian had countered, gazing warily at a display of gaudy “self-empowerment”-themed mugs.)
Gus figured the gift was appropriate to give to his moms under the guise of a Christmas present, but really, it’d be used by all of them at one point or another.
By the time they arrived back at home, Justin was finished with his holiday tasks and was sitting in the living room with his mom, Melanie and Lindsay, sipping warm spiked hot apple cider.
“Grab a mug and help yourselves,” Lindsay said when Brian and Gus walked into the room, divested of their packages. “The pot on the right for you, young man,” she’d added warningly when she saw the ghost of a smile creeping onto Gus’ face at the thought of being offered alcohol by his mother, of all people.
“She thinks of everything,” Gus mumbled as his dad followed him into the kitchen, offering a sympathetic laugh in response.
They spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns “sneaking” away to wrap Christmas gifts and alternately watching holiday movies on TV, the adults growing more mellow and relaxed as the apple cider kicked in.
Surprisingly, dinner was a casual affair, which was a departure from the usual Christmas Eve fanfare at Debbie’s with her Feast of the Seven Fishes. Instead, they ordered Chinese takeout on Melanie’s suggestion and spent the meal balancing plates and chopsticks on their laps as they gathered around the living room, shoveling mounds of chow mein, kung pao chicken, and shrimp with lobster sauce into their mouths as they chatted and half-paid attention to the first showing of A Christmas Story, which would air for the next 24 hours straight.
Between the first and second airings, they paused to FaceTime with J.R. and the rest of the gang at Debbie’s, which allowed them to still participate in the Pittsburgh festivities in a small way. A few minutes of the boisterous celebration via video screen was enough for Brian, who seemed pleased that Debbie and Michael were overjoyed to see him on Christmas Eve, despite being in different countries, but afterward, he was completely content to return to a much quieter night around the TV with a crackling fire and more boozy apple cider.
Early in the second viewing, the women excused themselves to wrap up some holiday tasks, leaving Gus, Brian, and Justin in front of the TV to pay more in-depth attention to the movie.
“Did you know they filmed parts of this in Toronto?” Gus asked at one point, pointing out a familiar antique red trolley in the background of one of the scenes.
“Seems like they film a lot of shit in Toronto and call it somewhere else,” Brian commented, acknowledging the new bit of trivia.
Justin hummed thoughtfully. “I’m sure it’s far more inexpensive to film here. And you can still get a cityscape that can easily mimic somewhere like Chicago or New York -- or probably even Pittsburgh.”
Brian opened his mouth to respond but was silenced by Gus blurting, “Oh shit, I love this part,” as Ralphie Parker blurted the dreaded “F-dash-dash-dash” word as he helped his old man fix a flat tire on the side of the road.
“Can you imagine if your mother made you sit with a bar of soap in your mouth every time you accidentally dropped the F-bomb in her presence?” Brian teased during the next scene. “You’d never be able to come out of the bathroom.”
Gus smirked, playfully elbowing Brian in the side. “I’d tell her I learned it from my dear old Dad and that he should be punished equally.”
“Brian’s put worse things in his mouth,” Justin replied smoothly, earning a laugh from Brian and an exasperated, “Seriously? You had to go there?” from Gus.
They watched the movie a while longer, sipping on their apple cider and reciting favorite lines. After the Parker family returned from their visit to the creepy mall Santa Claus, Justin excused himself to go upstairs and see if his mom needed any help.
“You’re gonna miss the ending,” Gus protested, frowning.
Justin laughed. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve seen this movie. I can probably recite it from start-to-finish with minimal errors.” He paused, his lips twitching with amusement. “One year, Molly and I tried to watch the full twenty-four hours of it. I actually think we almost managed, too.”
“That sounds… unbearable,” Brian intoned, giving his husband a dubious look, though his eyes also reflected an undeniable fondness toward the antics of the Taylor siblings.
Justin shrugged. “So I’ll be good if I don’t see the rest. I’m sure I’ll catch it again sometime tomorrow.” He leaned over to give Brian a kiss and then headed out of the room.
Gus and Brian watched quietly a little longer, both taking in the Christmas morning scene, up to the coveted moment when Ralphie finally received his coveted Red Ryder BB gun.
“I kinda know how he feels,” Gus admitted, smiling sheepishly. “It’s how I felt the year Mom and Ima actually agreed to let me have an XBox.” He paused, glancing over at Brian. “Though I suspect I know why and how.”
Brian just shrugged noncommittally. “Guess it was your lucky year.”
“Did you ever want something really badly for Christmas and then actually get it too?” Gus asked, hedging a little on the question. Brian rarely spoke of his childhood, and the times he had more recently, Gus had started to get more of a sense that the unpleasant memories of his dad’s formative years far outweighed the pleasant.
“No, not really,” Brian answered, shaking his head. He put his mug to his lips, draining the remainder of his spiked hot cider before he continued, admitting, “Though one year, I really wanted one thing -- probably the only time I was ever insistent about a particular gift, since I usually knew better -- but I was about eight or nine, and I practically begged my mom for the Atari 2600. It was like the XBox of my day.”
Gus nodded. “I’ve heard of it. You could play Pac-Man, and, like, Mario and Donkey Kong before Nintendo came out, right? It had like a…” he mimicked the movement of a joystick controller.
Brian nodded. “That’s the one.”
“So… did, um, Grandma or Grandpa Kinney--” the words felt so unnatural rolling off his tongue “--actually let you have it?”
Brian raised an eyebrow. “What do you think? Pretty sure that year I got a second-hand soccer ball and some socks. And knowing my mother, probably a book of Psalms or a crucifix or some shit.” He rolled his eyes. “Reason for the season, and all that.”
“Ugh,” Gus groaned. “That really sucks.”
Brian shrugged. “It was the only year it ever really bothered me. Your Aunt Claire had it way worse, she demanded outrageous shit every year, never got it, and then threw a colossal fit. It became a fucking Christmas routine. I was just grateful to have a place to escape once we moved to the Pitts and I met the Novotnys. Your Grandma Deb never had a lot of money, but she always made sure Michael had a damn good Christmas. And once I came along, she made sure of it for me too.”
Gus smiled, happy to hear that his dad had at least some positive memories from the holidays pre-adulthood, but then something dawned on him. “I guess you’re probably kinda bummed to not spend Christmas with them this year, since you guys are here?”
“What?” Brian’s brow furrowed as he turned to face Gus more fully. “Not at all. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’ve had a lot of holidays with Debbie, but not nearly enough with you.”
Gus looked down, suddenly feeling a little bashful at his dad’s unexpected sentimentality. “Thanks,” he said finally, needing to clear his throat before he could speak. He missed having his dad around on a regular basis, and hearing Brian’s words made him realize just how much. “I’m… really glad you guys are here.”
Brian slung an arm around his son’s shoulder, pulling him close against his side. “Me too, Sonny Boy, me too.”
***
Justin was already in bed by the time Brian made his way upstairs, long outlasting Gus, who had hung out with his dad long enough to finish the second viewing of A Christmas Story, and an episode of The Big Bang Theory on CTV, but then headed up to his room. Lindsay and Melanie had come down shortly after, but it was clear that they were both exhausted, and Brian knew that Lindsay planned to be awake early to prepare their Christmas morning breakfast, so they had tidied up a few things in the kitchen and then said goodnight as well.
Brian had remained alone on the sofa, vaguely watching a Christmas movie he couldn’t quite identify, but knew he’d seen before, but more absorbed in his own thoughts and surroundings than in anything else. The movie on the television had set an appropriate tone for the real-life holiday scene around him, but what really made it come to life were all the little festive touches in the room that filled it with life and warmth. It was a rare moment that made Brian truly understand what it was that Justin, Gus, and so many others loved about the season.
He was feeling unexpectedly lighter when he crawled under the covers, trying not to wake Justin, who was snoring lightly, his mouth slightly ajar. However, as soon as Brian settled onto his side, he felt Justin move, curling up behind him.
“Good night?” Justin murmured sleepily, his breath tickling the back of Brian’s neck as his arms wrapped around Brian’s midsection.
“Sorry, I was trying not to wake you,” Brian apologized softly, then added, “It was nice.”
Justin’s smile was evident in his tone as he said, “Good, I’m glad,” and his hand began tracing lazy circles on Brian’s bare abdomen. “I’m glad you woke me,” he added. “I wanted to say goodnight to you before Christmas Eve was over, but I didn’t want to interrupt your time with Gus.”
Brian let out a small snort. “Better check your watch, Sleeping Beauty. Christmas Eve has been over for a few hours.”
“I know. It’s Christmas now.”
“So I’m told.”
“Hmm.” Justin’s hand started to dip lower, encroaching on the waistband of Brian’s cotton sleep pants, then moving even further south.
“What are you doing?” Brian asked, though his body immediately began to respond to the firm stroke of his husband’s hand.
Justin pressed a gentle kiss between Brian’s shoulder blades, continuing his ministrations, and said, “Giving you your first Christmas gift of the day.”
Brian let out a quiet moan as Justin’s thumb brushed over the sensitive tip of his cock. “Far be it from me to refuse such a generous seasonal offering.”
Justin laughed lightly, pausing his task only long enough to move out from around Brian and coax him onto his back so that Justin could move down to take his husband into his mouth instead.
“Fuck,” Brian chanted, barely louder than a whisper. In the warm heat of Justin’s talented mouth, he climaxed quickly, and immediately moved to reciprocate the task, having to remind Justin halfway through that the walls of their room were not soundproof.
“If you don’t keep it down, the entire damn house is gonna know that Santa isn’t the only one who came tonight,” Brian warned lowly.
Justin choked on a guffaw. “I can’t fucking believe you just said that.”
Fortunately, afterward, he made more of an effort to control his volume, and a few minutes later, they were wrapped around each other much more innocently, ready to catch a few hours of sleep before the inevitable bustle of Christmas Day began.
“Merry Christmas,” Justin whispered, his tone sleepy again. “I hope you have an amazing day later.”
Brian tightened his arms around the younger man. “Merry Christmas… I’m glad we’re here.”