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i_am_tl_drTitle: The Actual Best Present, the Actual Worst Present, and the Unexpected Present
Characters: Elliott Reed, Orion Bradford, and Abigail Bradford
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 14050
Notes: I aimed to write a whole rush of Christmas stories and then I spent like half of December writing this one. Go figure. 100% blaming this on watching two hours of Stephen Colbert breaking character and dissolving into laughter. Oh my god he’s too cute. I don’t even know if these guys ever got played or if they were just ideas and a couple ficlets (no existing logs, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen), but… I could not resist the big-hearted shrink, his adopted niece, and his legit crazy boyfriend at the holidays. (also, this is a thing that happened and it fills me with joy)
!!!!! my beloved platonic boyfriend Chris recorded a podfic version of this story that is quite excellent and you should listen to it! Part 1 and Part 2 ♥ ♥ ♥
"I swear if you buy Abigail an Elsa dress I won't stop her from singing Let It Go ever. Are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions?"
"Darlin', you an' I both know I'm crazy, but I'm nowhere near that crazy," Elliott said, closing that particular window on his tablet. "It was jest an idea."
"Yes, I just figured you hadn't thought it through all the way," Orion said, looking far more amused than Elliott thought was appropriate given the circumstances. Christmas was a week away, and he still hadn't figured out what to get either of the Bradfords. Abigail had a couple of creative hobbies that Orion wholeheartedly encouraged her to pursue, a couple of musical interests that neither man was sure was actually music (if it was 90% autotune, did it still qualify?), and her passion for Frozen could not be overstated. He’d been at a total loss since Thanksgiving night, and the clock was ticking down almost audibly at this point. He looked around the living room, catching sight of all of Abigail’s art hung on the walls, and a light bulb switched on in his head.
"What about lessons fer somethin'? Paintin' or jewelry makin' or somethin' like that?"
"She would probably love that," Orion agreed, "you can get her lessons and I'll get her supplies?"
"Perfect," Elliott said, leaning over to kiss him. "Now I just hafta figure you out..."
"Oh, I'm easy," Orion said, and pinched Elliott lightly when he snorted. "Hey!"
"You said it, not me," Elliott laughed. It was true, anyhow. Orion was one of the most easygoing people Elliott had ever met, by far the most loving person, and sometimes it still staggered Elliott how lucky he'd been when he decided to go flirt with the nervous looking stranger at the bar.
"I'm amazed you put it off this long. Usually you're on top of gift-giving."
"I'm good at birthdays. Christmas, not so much. Never been my favorite time of year."
"Why do you think that is?" Elliott pinched him back, not quite as gently.
"Hey. No psychoanalysin' me. I'm not your patient."
"I'm not!" Orion protested, sitting back to look at Elliott, dark eyes wide and earnest. "I'm not trying to pick you apart, I'm just curious. You're not very forthcoming sometimes. I just want to know you better, I'm not trying to untangle your psyche."
"Uh-huh," Elliott said, "Cause I believe you c'n turn it off." Privately, Elliott knew he would probably be better off if he let Orion try, or someone, anyways. His list of issues was as long as he was tall, and he didn't believe for a second that Orion hadn't made a diagnosis or three that he was keeping to himself. But he had kept it to himself, never made more than the gentlest suggestions that Elliott might benefit from professional help, and the times things had gotten bad, Orion had been right there, quietly making sure that they didn't get worse. "I know why it is, an' my tragic backstory will be saved fer another episode, okay?"
"Tune in next week, same bat time, same bat channel," Orion said, and Elliott smiled a little, relieved as he always was when Orion didn't press. "No, but seriously, you know I'm easy to please. And you're thoughtful. Whatever you come up with will be great, I'm sure."
"I'll make it good," Elliott promised. "Christmas mornin', you'll see."
"You're going to be run ragged after the Christmas Eve shift," Orion said, scootching closer to Elliott and resting his head on the taller man's shoulder. "Busy night for paramedics."
"Lotta alcohol poisonin', lotta car wrecks. I'll take Christmas Eve over New Year's, though. Least Christmas mornin' is somethin' t’look forward to." Elliott kissed Orion's hair, sighing softly. "Speakin' of which, my shift starts in an hour."
"Dinner first?"
"Darlin', the day I turn down your cookin', you'll know somethin's bad wrong with me." It wasn't entirely a joke, and they both knew it.
"Well, someone's got to make sure you eat. Want to call Abigail while I get it out of the oven?" Orion stole one more kiss before he hopped off the couch, and Elliott actually went upstairs instead of just calling up them. Abigail's door was open, and he knocked on the frame, catching her mid-song with the Frozen soundtrack turned up high.
"Elliott! Uh, hi!" she chirped, lowering the volume as soon as she saw him.
"Were you just singin' Hans?" he asked, grinning, and she shrugged. "Got some vocal range there, Abby. Time fer dinner."
"Kay," she said, turning the CD off. "What is it?"
"Food, I 'xpect," Elliott said, and she rolled her eyes. "You know, I didn't ask?"
"Don't you care?"
"I trust your uncle's cookin'," he said, "an' I save carin' for the important things. Like wannabe princesses of Arendelle."
"Uncle Ryan won't let me dye my hair blonde like Elsa," she said dejectedly. "I asked a million times and he always says no."
"Ain't nothin' wrong with your hair, sweetheart. Bleach it out like that an' you'll start losin' it like me."
"Nuh-uh," she said, but she looked uncertain.
"Oh yes. Ask anyone. Google it," Elliott said, and she blinked. "You don't wanna start lookin' like me. You want your hair to stay nice an' thick like Uncle Ryan's. Take better care of it than I did, yeah?"
"Did you dye it blonde?"
"A long, long time ago," he said, figuring a little white lie wouldn't hurt. "Way before there was even Facebook."
"Wow, that was like a million years ago," Abigail said, and he snorted. "Okay, okay. No hair dye."
"Good call, kiddo. C'mon, your uncle's waitin'." Elliott mentally added another gift for Abigail to his list-- a blonde braided wig wouldn’t be hard to find, and she’d get such a kick out of it. He wasn’t quite sure whether this fell under Orion’s Let It Go-related threat, but… he didn’t have to live with Abby, he was just there an awful lot. It might be okay. He lived dangerously, anyways. What to get Orion, though…?
“Wash your hands,” Orion said as they traipsed down the stairs, “Flu’s going around your school, Abby.”
“I know,” she said, “Four people were out of class today. And Miss Koenig started sneezing during social studies. Bet we have a sub tomorrow.” She was shooting up like a weed, Elliott realized; at the beginning of the school year she hadn’t been able to reach the kitchen sink faucet herself, but she had no problem with it now. “But you make me take vitamins so I’ll be okay.”
“Not quite how it works, darlin’,” Elliott said, “but you wash your hands ‘nough an’ don’ share food with your friends an’ you’ll likely be fine.”
“Duh,” she said, and Orion’s eyes were bright with silent laughter across the table.
“Don’t say ‘duh,’ Abby. It’s not polite,” he said, and she was mid-eyeroll when she turned around.
“You’re not a teenager yet,” Elliott said, “an’ yet you’re sassy enough fer a girl twice your age.”
“I’m precocious,” she said, taking her seat. “Uncle Ryan says so all the time. Is this lasagna?”
“Baked ziti, actually.”
“Oh good, the tubes are more tasty than the ribbons!” Before either adult could say anything, she held up a finger. “Wait, I got this. ‘Pasta is pasta, it all tastes the same,’” she said, imitating her uncle’s precise diction, “and, uh, ‘S’not the shape, darlin’, s’the chef,’” in a very passable mockery of Elliott’s Georgia drawl.
“She don’ even need us here any more, Ryan,” Elliott said with a laugh. “Kid’s got the whole conversation herself.”
“Heaven help us when she learns how to cook and drive,” Orion said, “As soon as she doesn’t need me to take care of her…” He made sure to serve her some veggies with her pasta, and she wrinkled her nose at the green beans.
“Uh-uh,” Abigail said, “I can’t drive for eight more years. I guess you have to keep me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll keep you forever and a day,” Orion told her, leaning over to ruffle her hair. “It feels like you’re growing up so fast now.”
“I am,” she said with obvious satisfaction. “Check my height against my door, I’m way taller than I was last time you marked it off.”
“We’ll do it on New Year’s, like we always do, okay?” Abigail nodded, and Elliott waved his fork at her.
“Bet you’re almost five feet now, beanpole.”
“How tall are you?” she asked. “You’re the tallest person I know.”
“I’m six foot two. I used to play basketball, d’you know that?”
“Oh, really?” Orion looked interested. “In high school?”
“Yup. Wasn’t much good at it, though.” Elliott spent more time with splinted wrists and casted ankles than he did on the court, but he got even more attention when he was injured than when he was sick, and he learned to play it up real early on. “Bet I could dig up a picture,” he added, purely to watch that interested look intensify. As reticent as Elliott was with information about his early life, Orion went after the tiny nuggets of information he’d let slip as avidly as a treasure hunter.
“Cool,” Abigail said. “Uncle Ryan played soccer. He wants me to try it. I want to do field hockey, though.”
“You can’t do field hockey until middle school, sweetie. No one will let you play until then. Soccer will get you used to running up and down the field, though.”
“I c’n imagine you as a soccer dad,” Elliott said, but he was actually imagining Orion in soccer shorts. He really did have fantastic legs. “S’a good idea, Abby. Sports’re important.” He stretched out a leg under the table to drag his toes down Orion’s shin, and Orion arched his brows playfully.
“I know. Everyone says so,” Abigail said, “When it’s spring I can start with soccer. It’ll be fun!”
“That’s the spirit!” Orion said cheerfully. “But you’ve got three months until that starts. What do you want to do until then? You’ve been working on your art, right?”
“Yeah, we’re doing painting in art class right now and it’s really cool. And I made two bracelets yesterday! Look!” She held up her wrist, and sure enough, there were two brightly colored beaded bracelets there. “I made one for Kay and Hannah and I’m going to make one for Miss Koenig for Christmas. If she doesn’t get the flu and stay home for a week,” she added, shrugging.
“Those’re real purty, Abby. Nice colors!”
“Thanks! I really like making things. Would you wear one?”
“Absolutely,” Elliott promised, “Whenever I’m not workin’.” Abigail bounced in her seat, and Elliott and Orion exchanged glances across the table. Abigail’s present was figured out, and just in time, when Elliott caught sight of the microwave clock. “An’ on that note, time fer me t’go save some lives.” He put his plate in the sink, ruffled Abigail’s hair, and then smirked and ruffled Orion’s hair too. “G’night, darlin’,” he said, and both Bradfords waved at him.
Some nights were slow and easy; some nights it seemed like there was no end to the emergencies. It was still far enough in advance of the holiday that the partying hadn’t started in earnest, and the bad weather on the forecast hadn’t arrived yet, so this was one of the easier evenings. Marilyn insisted that she wanted to drive, so he didn’t even have that much to do; while they talked about their holiday plans Elliott searched craft store class schedules to sign Abigail up for jewelry making lessons. Half their calls were the type of all-call that required an ambulance just in case there was an injury, but no one was actually hurt, and they didn’t have a real emergency until three hours into the shift, a shooting at a nightclub and a scene swarming with cops.
By the time Elliott made it home in the morning, Abigail’s gifts had been totally taken care of, but he was still at a loss for what to give Orion. He fell into bed worrying about it, woke up seven hours later with an idea he wasn’t sure whether was great or awful. He’d spent the nearly two years of their relationship dodging direct questions about his past, being evasive any time he had even a feeling that Orion was doing the psychiatrist thing with him. But this far in, Elliott’s worries that Orion would cut and run when it came out just how crazy he actually was had been mostly laid to rest. And honestly, aside from the moodiness, Elliott’s worse tendencies hadn’t been making the frequent appearances they had in his prior relationships since Orion became part of his life, and he couldn’t exactly figure out why that was.
He owed Orion some honesty, he figured. Not that Elliott’s psyche was the kind of thing he could put a bow on, but letting Orion unwrap a few of his layers probably wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t much of a gift, but it was something he knew Orion really wanted. Which still didn’t give him something to put under the tree, but at least it was more than the nothing he’d had before that.
Having a variable schedule could be nice sometimes, but Elliott liked it a lot less when it kept him away from Orion for a whole weekend, reducing them to texting and too-brief calls for days. Still, the tradeoff for having Christmas and the day after off was longer shifts in the days leading up to the holiday, ten hours instead of the usual eight, ten hours on and eight off from Thursday night to Monday morning. He had all of Monday off, and then it was back on the grind until 6am on Christmas morning. When he showed up at Orion’s office at 4 on Monday afternoon, he had a bag of presents under one arm and bags under his eyes nearly as large.
“Have you been sleeping?” Orion asked after kissing him hello. “You look absolutely beat.”
“Not a lot,” Elliott admitted, dropping his head to Orion’s shoulder with a sigh. “Not fer lack’ve tryin’.” Orion made a sympathetic sound, stroking Elliott’s hair softly. He could even hear how tired Elliott was; his drawl was as thick as molasses when he was exhausted.
“You still want to go get food, or do you need a nap more?”
“No, ‘m good. Coffee’ll do me fine. Been waitin’ t’see you, ‘m not gonna waste that time sleepin’.” He yawned against Orion’s neck and shook his head slightly. “Ugh. Is it Christmas yet?”
“Sadly, no,” Orion said, and he cupped Elliott’s cheek when the tired head lifted, thumb brushing over the greying scruff Elliott hadn’t bothered to shave. “Still a few days to go.”
“Three more shifts,” Elliott sighed, “an’ then I c’n crawl inta bed nexta you an’ pass out ‘til Abby can’t wait fer presents any more.”
“You’re done at six in the morning?”
“Mmhm. Still okay fer me t’sneak in?”
“Abby’s going to come jump on my bed when her patience expires,” Orion said hesitantly, “unless you lock the door behind you, and then she’ll wonder why…”
"Girl's not dumb," Elliott said. Orion shook his head.
"No. She isn't, not at all."
"She knows somethin's up," he continued. "We're not 'xactly subtle."
"We're not blatant," Orion said, and Elliott gave him a dubious look. "She thinks you're my best friend. Best friends is something she understands."
"Orion, darlin', if she thinks we're a good 'xample of best friends, things'll get real damn awkward fer her real soon." Orion winced, and Elliott pulled him closer. "C'mere. I think you c'n tell her, now. She's smart an' she's kind an' she adores you, you've been raisin' her right, she'll understand."
"You're right," Orion said, "I know you're right, but it's still terrifying to think about explaining it to her."
"What's t'xplain? 'Honey, y'know how Elliott's here all the time? S'cause I love him very much.' She'll get it."
"Yeah, but..." Elliott silenced him with a finger across his lips, and Orion blinked at him before being kissed.
"But nothin'. Look, the world she's growin' up in, it ain't the world we grew up in. Kids ain't blind, and gay folks ain't stuffed in the closet no more. I promise you, she's gonna be alright with it." Elliott smiled crookedly. "How much more sense will it make that I'm your boyfriend an' not just a friend who's over all the time?"
"Okay. Yes. True." Orion still looked a bit distressed. Elliott kissed him again, carding fingers through his dark hair until he sighed and relaxed. "But how..."
"Tell her on Christmas," Elliott suggested. "Christmas mornin'. We’ll wake her up b’fore she c’n wake us up first. You c'n make your present t'yourself tellin' her the truth."
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart, your uncle's gay. Not something Santa would leave."
"Oh, I dunno. I'd be happy t’find you under my tree," Elliott said with a laugh, "wrapped up all purty with a bow, gimme a chance t'unwrap you..." He teased his fingers under Orion's shirt and up his ribs, making him gasp. "Mm, darlin', I could just keep you ferever."
"Would you, though?" Orion's voice was very soft, very close to Elliott's ear, and Elliott paused with his lips pressed to Orion's throat and his hand spread out along his side. "Keep me forever?"
"As long as you'll let me," Elliott vowed, "long as you want me for."
"And if I said forever?" Slowly, Elliott drew back to look Orion in the eyes. Behind his glasses, his dark gaze was worried but steady. He looked so vulnerable, and Elliott couldn't do anything but tell him the truth, as scary as it was to him.
"You want me ferever, you may be as crazy’s I am, but crazy’s I am, I'm more crazy ‘bout you, Orion." He caught Orion’s face between both hands and kissed him softly. “I’m crazy ‘bout the both of you. Abby’s precious t’me too.”
“She loves you too, you know.”
“I know. Girl’s somethin’ else, but she wears her heart on her sleeve s’much’s you do.” Orion smiled and shrugged, and Elliott had to kiss him again, a cluster of quick little smooches against his lips. “Part’ve what I love so much ‘bout you.”
“Elliott… Love you too.” Orion wrapped his arms around Elliott’s waist, and they stood holding each other until Elliott’s stomach grumbled. “Did you skip breakfast?”
“Might’ve fergotten it,” Elliott mumbled, and Orion drew back with a fondly exasperated look. “What? Slipped my mind.”
“Let’s get you fed before you fall over sideways, then,” Orion said, kissing him one more time before they left the office. They had lunch once a week at Frieda’s Diner a few blocks from Orion’s office, whenever Elliott’s rolling schedule let him off around the time Orion was done for the day. It was a favorite haunt of EMTs; Elliott had brought Orion there a couple weeks after they started their relationship, and it had quickly become a regular thing, a chance for them to have a meal together while Abigail was occupied with her after-school activities.
Once Elliott had downed one cup of coffee and started in on a second, he seemed more alert, blue eyes a little brighter. Under the table, Orion curled a foot around Elliott’s ankle, and no one paid any attention to the middle-aged men playing footsie in the back corner of the diner. “So what’s new, darlin’?”
“I read a really interesting article in one of my journals yesterday,” Orion said, leaning forward and propping his chin on one hand. “This one social scientist could reliably predict whether a relationship would last by observing a couple for a weekend. They set up a research lab that looked like a bed and breakfast and just had a bunch of couples come stay there and watched how they interacted.”
“Yeah? How’d they manage t’know?”
“Well, they tallied the number of requests for attention each partner made, and how the requests were responded to. They called the requests ‘bids’ and if a partner responded with interest it was a ‘turn-toward bid’ and if they blew their partner off it was a ‘turn-away bid.” Orion grinned. “I think that’s cute. ‘Bids.’ Anyways, the couples that split up had turn-toward bids three times out of ten, and the couples that stayed together had turn-toward bids nine times out of ten. It was all about responding with kindness when the person you love tries to engage you. If people starved their partners for attention, that showed contempt instead of kindness. So kindness is really the most important thing in a relationship.” He reached across the table, covering Elliott’s hand with his. “Isn’t that neat?”
“Requests for attention…” Elliott said, turning his hand under Orion’s to hold back. “Oh my god, Orion, that… that ‘xplains so much.” He sounded legitimately stunned. Orion tilted his head, perplexed by Elliott’s response, and Elliott shook his head slightly, eyes wide. “No, that just… somethin’ that’s been on my mind lately, that makes it make sense.”
“Really?” Orion squeezed his hand, smiling. “Good. Great. I, uh, I tried to think it through about us, you know, and we have way more turn-toward bids. I don’t know if it’s ninety percent, but it’s a lot.”
“You never ignore me,” Elliott said. “Never. Can’t think of once.”
“I think that’s an exaggeration,” Orion said, but he looked delighted. “I’m sure I’ve paid attention to Abby over you a few times.”
“Don’t count. Obviously she’s your priority, but really and truly, Orion…” Elliott lifted Orion’s hand and kissed the back of it. “You’re better t’me than anyone’s ever been.”
“Is that a high bar to clear?” Orion bit his lip as soon as he said it, realizing it was the kind of question Elliott never answered straight, but Elliott rested his lips against Orion’s knuckles for a moment, then shook his head.
“No. Not really. S’always been hard fer me t’get anyone t’pay attention t’me.” Orion’s eyes went wide, and Elliott’s lips quirked in something that looked like a smile but wasn’t one. “I always wanted it, tried real hard t’get it, but…” He shook his head again. “You give me freely what I always had t’beg t’get before.”
“Elliott…” Orion brushed his fingers against Elliott’s cheek, and then a cough from beside the table made him startle and take his hand back. Their waitress, a younger woman with a lot of facial piercings, gave them a look like they were an adorable YouTube video of kittens or something, accustomed to the pair of them coming in here but not usually being so openly affectionate.
“So here’s your waffles, and here’s your burger, and, um…” She smiled and gave them a thumbs up when she set their plates down. “You guys are just the cutest thing I’ve seen in weeks. Can I get you anything else?”
“I think we’re okay,” Orion said, blushing faintly.
“I’m good,” Elliott agreed, “Thanks, hon.” She nodded and left, and Elliott was on the verge of laughter when he looked back at Orion. “Damn, you’re cute when you blush.”
“I don’t blush,” Orion lied, “I’m far too old and dignified to do something like blush, don’t be silly.”
“Uh-huh,” Elliott said, “Bet I get you t’blush harder than that in the next two hours.” The heavy-lidded look he gave Orion was full of promises, and Orion went a bit more red just from that gaze. Elliott smirked and redirected his attention to his waffles, but under the table he caught Orion’s feet between his own.
Elliott had been nearly starving after neglecting to eat breakfast; he devoured the waffles and started in on stealing Orion’s french fries and dipping them in leftover syrup before Orion was even mostly done with his burger. “Sweet tooth acting up today?” Orion asked, and Elliott nodded, licking his fingertips clean.
“Sugar ain’t the only thing I’m cravin’,” he added with an arched brow, trying to get Orion to blush again, but it only made Orion finish off his burger a bit faster, just as eager to get out of there as Elliott was. They left their waitress a really nice tip when they left, and Elliott spread a big hand over Orion’s knee, rubbing little circles with his thumb while Orion drove them back to the house, where Abigail wasn’t expected to be home for another hour and a half.
They barely made it past the front door before Elliott pulled Orion into a long kiss, sweet and hot as Elliott’s over-sugared coffee. “I guess you missed me,” Orion breathed, looking up at Elliott with a hand curled at the nape of his neck. Elliott grinned and tossed his bag of presents onto the couch, sweeping Orion off his feet for another couple of kisses, pleased when Orion held him tight.
“Been a long weekend without you, darlin’.” He started tugging at the knot of Orion’s tie and got distracted when Orion tipped his head back, that long pale throat needing to be kissed immediately. It took a while for them to get upstairs and into the bedroom, but when Elliott left off the kissing in favor of whispering what he wanted Orion to do to him in Orion’s ear, he got hauled up the stairwell in short order, Orion trying to hide his reddened cheeks from Elliott’s gaze until they’d locked the bedroom door behind them and Orion pressed Elliott back against the door, leaning up to nibble Elliott’s lower lip.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you,” Orion murmured, his hands sliding up under Elliott’s shirt so he could drag his nails lightly down Elliott’s back in the way that made the taller man shiver every time. “Whatever you want, El.” His dark eyes had gone darker still, blown with desire, and Elliott couldn’t help the whimper that escaped when Orion tugged his hips forward, the delicious friction where they pressed together.
“Want you, ‘Rion. Need you.” That was Orion’s favorite, when Elliott’s drawl got so heavy that his name came out like that, the slight but distinct difference between ‘Ryan’ (what everyone else called him) and ‘’Rion’ (what only Elliott called him, in moments like this, lust-dazed or sleepy, just enough twist to the vowels to make it unmistakably his real name), and that Elliott was pleading for him just made it even sweeter.
“I’m all yours,” he promised, making himself back up before starting to unbutton his shirt, smiling at how quick Elliott was to lose his clothes and stretch his lanky body out across Orion’s bed, the way he watched Orion’s hands as he bared his skin bit by bit. “Stay right there…” The last thing off were his socks; once Orion toed them off, he came toward the bed, tickling the soles of Elliott’s feet and making his toes curl before prowling his way up Elliott’s body until they were pressed together along the whole length of their bodies, warm and close. Elliott wrapped his arms around Orion and pulled him fully atop him, sighing happily as Orion settled his weight securely above him, pushing his hips up into Orion’s.
Orion caught Elliott’s face between his hands, kissing him deeply, shifting a little until their cocks lined up and humming a pleased sound when Elliott’s hips rolled. Maybe Orion was easy to please all the time, but Elliott was so easy to please in bed, just wanted to feel cherished, and they always spent a long time kissing, Orion’s fingers playing through Elliott’s hair, Elliott’s hands roaming restlessly from Orion’s shoulders to his hips and back up. “God, ‘Rion, c’mon,” Elliott murmured against his lips, and Orion slid off to one side, letting Elliott roll over onto his stomach. He scratched down Elliott’s spine again, kissed his shoulder as he reached for the bedside table. “Fuck, need you so much.”
“I got you, I got you,” Orion assured him, kneading the slight curve of Elliott’s skinny ass with one hand as he grabbed the necessary items with the other. “Just a sec, I’m right here for you.” Elliott whined quietly when Orion’s hand left, whined again a little louder when Orion’s fingers came back slick, delving in to spread the lube where it was needed, rubbing with just a shade too little pressure to push in. Elliott’s spine arched, hips canting up, and Orion pressed open-mouthed kisses to the back of Elliott’s neck as one finger breached Elliott’s body.
“Fuck!” Elliott said again, pushing back eagerly against Orion’s hand. “Yeah, c’mon…”
“So impatient,” Orion teased, but he gave Elliott what he was asking for, the steady press of another finger, twisting and scissoring them and dragging breathless groans out of him as he was worked open with single-minded focus. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”
“Please, ‘Rion, gotta have you…” Orion rarely intended to make Elliott beg, but he did beg with the frequency and sincerity of someone used to having to beg to get anything they wanted. Seeking out Elliott’s prostate with his fingertips, Orion spent a moment on making Elliott tremble and moan, reveling in the pleasure-soaked sounds he made. A third finger got him some heartfelt cursing, and Orion made sure that Elliott was good and ready before he tugged Elliott’s hips up, getting him on his knees before lining up behind him.
“You have me,” Orion told him as he pushed into the welcoming clasp of Elliott’s body, “you have me for good.” He paused to catch his breath when he bottomed out, panting against Elliott’s nape as Elliott reached blindly back to clutch his hip.
“Never gonna let you go,” Elliott swore, gasping when Orion reached down to take his erection in hand. “Lord, ‘Rion, never ever let you go.” Now that he had Orion where he wanted him, Elliott was content to let Orion set the pace, and Orion couldn’t bear to take it slow, not with Elliott making promises like that. Not when every thrust earned him another honeyed whimper, not when Elliott kept saying his name like a prayer. He knew just what to do to take Elliott to pieces, knew how it drove him crazy to kiss the back of his neck, knew just how firm a grip to use stroking his cock, knew that sending Elliott spiraling over the edge would be what set him off himself.
“Love you so much,” Orion said, breathless and fervent, “Elliott, I love you,” and it was almost like magic, how saying those words pushed him over, how it was only a couple more thrusts before Elliott tensed up, his fingertips biting bruises into Orion’s hip as he came with a cry and then went boneless underneath Orion. Orion bit his lip, bowed his head, and raced toward his own finish, coming a moment later with a softer gasp and an equal subsequent bonelessness, sprawled over Elliott’s back like a living blanket.
“Christ,” Elliott sighed, reaching back to card his fingers through Orion’s sweat-damp hair. “I needed that somethin’ fierce.” He sighed, and it was a sound full of satisfaction, and more than a little exhaustion. “Love you too, more’n I c’n say.”
“But it’s so nice when you try to say it,” Orion murmured, dropping one last kiss between Elliott’s shoulders before withdrawing slowly, a quiet groan escaping as he slipped free. Elliott turned his head to watch Orion walk into the bathroom, coming back out a little more cleaned up and with a wet cloth to tidy Elliott up a bit as well. Elliott stretched out and nearly purred under the attention, looking up at Orion with undiluted adoration when Orion urged him to roll onto his back to finish the tidying. “Look at you. You have the expression of a man who got exactly what he wanted.”
“Oh, I did,” Elliott said, reaching up to pull Orion down for a kiss. “Thank you, darlin’, that was perfect.”
“Perfection is fleeting,” Orion said philosophically, “It’s something to constantly strive for.”
“We do that constantly an’ my heart may give out,” Elliott quipped, letting Orion pitch the cloth into the laundry basket before pulling him back into bed to cuddle. “I think three, maybe four times a week’ll do me fine.”
“I think that’s highballing it,” Orion laughed, tugging the sheet up from the bottom of the bed to cover them. “Mm. Have to get ready for Abby to come home soon…”
“What I’d give fer a nice long nap with you,” Elliott said wistfully, “jest a few hours sleepin’ nexta you without worryin’ ‘bout what Abby might interrupt…”
“Well, I’ll let her stay up late Christmas Eve and we might get until 9:30 or 10 on Christmas,” Orion said. “Heaven knows you can use more than three hours of sleep after a shift.”
“I don’ even wanna think ‘bout it right now,” Elliott groaned, burying his face in Orion’s shoulder. Orion stroked his hair, hummed something soft that lulled Elliott into a light doze, and he kept an eye on the clock over his lover’s shoulder to let him stay there as long as he could. They got a little more than a half an hour of cuddling time before Orion kissed the top of Elliott’s head to rouse him from his reverie.
“She’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” Orion said. “Do you need a real nap? When’s your next shift?”
“8am tomorrow,” Elliott said, hugging Orion closer for a moment. “I’ll sleep t’night. I hope.”
“You will,” Orion said, sounding more sure than he was. “I’ll just have to send you home all worn out.”
“Promise?” Elliott had that lopsided smirk that always made Orion want to kiss it off, and he had no reason not to do so right then, halfway sure that Elliott’s lips tasted sweeter when he had that expression on his face.
“Cross my heart,” Orion murmured against Elliott’s lips, kissing him again, softer and quicker. “I’d go home with you and tuck you in if I could. Hell, I’d just keep you here and tuck you in if I could.”
“Would you really?”
“If it wasn’t for Abby’s nightmares…” Orion paused, shaking his head. “You know, there’s no real reason to put off telling her until Christmas. I could tell her tonight. Maybe you could stay.”
“Kids talk,” Elliott said, “Lord only knows what she might say. ‘Uncle Ryan had a sleepover,’ that’d go down like a lead balloon.”
“I’d risk it,” Orion said, kissing Elliott’s forehead. “For you? I’d risk it. And I think she’d hold her tongue.” He got up still a bit reluctantly to get dressed, watching Elliott slide out of bed and do the same, picking his clothes off the floor and covering up the lanky body he so loved to see bare. “What do you think? Tonight or Christmas? I want you to be here when I tell her…”
“Of course,” Elliott said, “And-- I dunno, Orion. Let’s see what happens t’night, ‘kay? If it happens, it happens…” He caught Orion by the waist as he was pulling a t-shirt on, splayed his fingers out over Orion’s sides and drew his hands down to his hips. “Can’t resist that,” he chuckled, “jest th’perfect lines o’you. Like art.”
“I’m hardly art,” Orion said, amused, and Elliott shook his head.
“You are, darlin’. Poetry in flesh. Gorgeous.” They shared one more kiss in the locked bedroom before they headed downstairs to where their affections required more veiling, making it down just in time for the doorbell to ring announcing the craft mom of the week dropping Abigail off with a paper-shrouded something.
“Hello, Abigail! What did you do today?” Orion asked. She shook her head, clutching the artwork closer.
“You can’t see yet! It’s a present.” Carefully, she set it under the tree, and turned around to fix both older men with a stern look. “No peeking! You’ll see on Christmas.”
“An Abigail Bradford original artwork. Gonna be somethin’ amazin’,” Elliott said, and she beamed up at him. “We’ll jest hafta find out on Thursday, then. What else d’you do, kiddo? How was school?”
“School was okay. Miss Koenig is still out. So’s Amy and Esteban and Chiu and Ruth and Mark. I’m still not sick though. I had to run in gym and I didn’t even cough once.”
“Good girl. Have you been keeping up with washing your hands?”
“Yes, Uncle Ryan. All the time. I really don’t want to get sick!” She tugged on the end of one of her braids, adding, “Holidays are less fun if you don’t feel good.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Elliott said, tugging her other braid. “You won’t be sick. Knock on wood,” he added, rapping his knuckles against one of the branches of the tree. “How many more days of school d’you have t’go?”
“Just tomorrow. We get Christmas Eve off! Uncle Ryan and me are gonna make cookies for Santa, and watch Christmas movies, and he said I can open one present on Christmas Eve instead of waiting for the morning.”
“It’s a special Christmas Eve present, you have to open it then,” Orion said, and Elliott grinned-- it was an idea that Marilyn had told him she was doing for her kids that he’d relayed to Orion. “What do you want for dinner tonight, Abby?”
“Can we have grilled cheese?” She turned big eyes on Elliott. “Can Elliott make it? He makes the best grilled cheeses.”
“Oh no, not those eyes again. Those work on your uncle, kiddo. You know what works on me.”
“Please can you make dinner?”
“Absolutely I c’n do that. Magic word’s called magic for a reason, y’know.”
“It pays to be polite,” Orion added, and Abigail nodded rapidly.
“I know! I just forget. I always mean please, I just don’t say it sometimes.” She looked down for a second, playing with her braid, then back up with the kind of look she got when she was plotting things. “I’m going to do my homework before dinner so I can do fun things after dinner, okay?”
“Do you have a lot of it?” Orion asked. She shook her head.
“A spelling sheet and a math sheet. No problem! And then I can watch Frozen again?”
“Darlin’, how many times’ve you seen it now?”
“Fourteen…”
“And how many times’ve you made your uncle watch it?”
“Not fourteen!” Having learned her lesson, this time she turned the puppy eyes on her uncle. “Can I watch it on the tablet in my room? Please?”
“How about this: you do your homework before dinner, after dinner you read one of your library books for half an hour, and then you can have the tablet.” Orion was always pushing for her to read more, trying to instil a love of reading early on, and he was trying to balance good parenting with not minding getting the evening with Elliott while Abigail was thoroughly occupied.
“Okay! I got a book about myths that’s really cool,” Abigail agreed. “Call me when dinner’s ready!” And she bounced away, heading up to her room humming Let It Go. Elliott was having second thoughts about the blonde wig in a box under the tree now.
“I don’t understand what’s so enthralling about that movie,” Orion said, smiling and shaking his head. “But it makes her happy.”
“Can’t put a price on happiness,” Elliott agreed, “but it ain’t in short supply in this house.” He stole a kiss, and then Orion stole it back, and they were both grinning when they walked into the kitchen. Orion turned on the radio, and it only took a few minutes for Elliott to succumb to the holiday spirit and start singing along to the Christmas music, which was exactly what Orion hoped would happen. He was entirely enamored with Elliott’s singing voice, and Elliott’s habit of singing along to the radio apparently applied to holiday tunes as well as his preferred classic rock. Around the time he was serenading Orion with a very sincere and very goofy rendition of “All I Want for Christmas is You” using the spatula as a microphone, Abigail came flying into the room with a worksheet in her hand.
“The bonus questions are division,” she announced, offering the paper to her uncle. “I don’t know division yet! We’re not even learning that until January.”
“Hey, division is my favorite math,” Orion said, taking the paper from her. “Let’s see… oh, yeah, it’s just a couple of questions. You want to learn?”
“Yeah!” Abby said, “I want a head start. I like knowing stuff my classmates don’t know.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re a smartypants,” Elliott said. “Save the lesson fer after dinner, or it’ll get cold.” He set a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches cut into little triangles on the table, and Orion pounced on the opportunity.
“Actually… Abby, how many sandwich pieces are there?”
“Uh… sixteen? Yeah, sixteen.”
“Okay, so here’s nine of them…” Orion moved them over to another plate. “Now split that up into piles of three. Nine divided by three. What’s it make?”
“Three!” Abby said. “Oh, okay! And eight divided by two…” She rearranged the sandwiches again. “That’s four.”
“She’s a genius,” Elliott said, and put a bowl of tomato soup in front of her. “A hungry genius, I hope.”
“Thank you, Elliott,” she chirped, dunking a sandwich in her soup. While they ate dinner, Orion tried to explain division a little more, but without the practical demonstration with objects it was harder for Abby to grasp, and the sandwiches disappeared in short order. When they finished, she ran back upstairs to get her book and then curled up on one end of the couch, holding her book up from time to time so Orion or Elliott at the other end of the couch could tell her what a word was. She was reading about myths from around the world, and needed a lot of help with the Norse names. Orion never turned the TV on while she was reading; he was always playing catch-up with his professional journals, and Elliott had enough mysteries loaded on his tablet to keep him reading for months, so these little after-dinner reading blocks applied to everybody equally.
Continued in Part 2
Characters: Elliott Reed, Orion Bradford, and Abigail Bradford
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 14050
Notes: I aimed to write a whole rush of Christmas stories and then I spent like half of December writing this one. Go figure. 100% blaming this on watching two hours of Stephen Colbert breaking character and dissolving into laughter. Oh my god he’s too cute. I don’t even know if these guys ever got played or if they were just ideas and a couple ficlets (no existing logs, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen), but… I could not resist the big-hearted shrink, his adopted niece, and his legit crazy boyfriend at the holidays. (also, this is a thing that happened and it fills me with joy)
!!!!! my beloved platonic boyfriend Chris recorded a podfic version of this story that is quite excellent and you should listen to it! Part 1 and Part 2 ♥ ♥ ♥
"I swear if you buy Abigail an Elsa dress I won't stop her from singing Let It Go ever. Are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions?"
"Darlin', you an' I both know I'm crazy, but I'm nowhere near that crazy," Elliott said, closing that particular window on his tablet. "It was jest an idea."
"Yes, I just figured you hadn't thought it through all the way," Orion said, looking far more amused than Elliott thought was appropriate given the circumstances. Christmas was a week away, and he still hadn't figured out what to get either of the Bradfords. Abigail had a couple of creative hobbies that Orion wholeheartedly encouraged her to pursue, a couple of musical interests that neither man was sure was actually music (if it was 90% autotune, did it still qualify?), and her passion for Frozen could not be overstated. He’d been at a total loss since Thanksgiving night, and the clock was ticking down almost audibly at this point. He looked around the living room, catching sight of all of Abigail’s art hung on the walls, and a light bulb switched on in his head.
"What about lessons fer somethin'? Paintin' or jewelry makin' or somethin' like that?"
"She would probably love that," Orion agreed, "you can get her lessons and I'll get her supplies?"
"Perfect," Elliott said, leaning over to kiss him. "Now I just hafta figure you out..."
"Oh, I'm easy," Orion said, and pinched Elliott lightly when he snorted. "Hey!"
"You said it, not me," Elliott laughed. It was true, anyhow. Orion was one of the most easygoing people Elliott had ever met, by far the most loving person, and sometimes it still staggered Elliott how lucky he'd been when he decided to go flirt with the nervous looking stranger at the bar.
"I'm amazed you put it off this long. Usually you're on top of gift-giving."
"I'm good at birthdays. Christmas, not so much. Never been my favorite time of year."
"Why do you think that is?" Elliott pinched him back, not quite as gently.
"Hey. No psychoanalysin' me. I'm not your patient."
"I'm not!" Orion protested, sitting back to look at Elliott, dark eyes wide and earnest. "I'm not trying to pick you apart, I'm just curious. You're not very forthcoming sometimes. I just want to know you better, I'm not trying to untangle your psyche."
"Uh-huh," Elliott said, "Cause I believe you c'n turn it off." Privately, Elliott knew he would probably be better off if he let Orion try, or someone, anyways. His list of issues was as long as he was tall, and he didn't believe for a second that Orion hadn't made a diagnosis or three that he was keeping to himself. But he had kept it to himself, never made more than the gentlest suggestions that Elliott might benefit from professional help, and the times things had gotten bad, Orion had been right there, quietly making sure that they didn't get worse. "I know why it is, an' my tragic backstory will be saved fer another episode, okay?"
"Tune in next week, same bat time, same bat channel," Orion said, and Elliott smiled a little, relieved as he always was when Orion didn't press. "No, but seriously, you know I'm easy to please. And you're thoughtful. Whatever you come up with will be great, I'm sure."
"I'll make it good," Elliott promised. "Christmas mornin', you'll see."
"You're going to be run ragged after the Christmas Eve shift," Orion said, scootching closer to Elliott and resting his head on the taller man's shoulder. "Busy night for paramedics."
"Lotta alcohol poisonin', lotta car wrecks. I'll take Christmas Eve over New Year's, though. Least Christmas mornin' is somethin' t’look forward to." Elliott kissed Orion's hair, sighing softly. "Speakin' of which, my shift starts in an hour."
"Dinner first?"
"Darlin', the day I turn down your cookin', you'll know somethin's bad wrong with me." It wasn't entirely a joke, and they both knew it.
"Well, someone's got to make sure you eat. Want to call Abigail while I get it out of the oven?" Orion stole one more kiss before he hopped off the couch, and Elliott actually went upstairs instead of just calling up them. Abigail's door was open, and he knocked on the frame, catching her mid-song with the Frozen soundtrack turned up high.
"Elliott! Uh, hi!" she chirped, lowering the volume as soon as she saw him.
"Were you just singin' Hans?" he asked, grinning, and she shrugged. "Got some vocal range there, Abby. Time fer dinner."
"Kay," she said, turning the CD off. "What is it?"
"Food, I 'xpect," Elliott said, and she rolled her eyes. "You know, I didn't ask?"
"Don't you care?"
"I trust your uncle's cookin'," he said, "an' I save carin' for the important things. Like wannabe princesses of Arendelle."
"Uncle Ryan won't let me dye my hair blonde like Elsa," she said dejectedly. "I asked a million times and he always says no."
"Ain't nothin' wrong with your hair, sweetheart. Bleach it out like that an' you'll start losin' it like me."
"Nuh-uh," she said, but she looked uncertain.
"Oh yes. Ask anyone. Google it," Elliott said, and she blinked. "You don't wanna start lookin' like me. You want your hair to stay nice an' thick like Uncle Ryan's. Take better care of it than I did, yeah?"
"Did you dye it blonde?"
"A long, long time ago," he said, figuring a little white lie wouldn't hurt. "Way before there was even Facebook."
"Wow, that was like a million years ago," Abigail said, and he snorted. "Okay, okay. No hair dye."
"Good call, kiddo. C'mon, your uncle's waitin'." Elliott mentally added another gift for Abigail to his list-- a blonde braided wig wouldn’t be hard to find, and she’d get such a kick out of it. He wasn’t quite sure whether this fell under Orion’s Let It Go-related threat, but… he didn’t have to live with Abby, he was just there an awful lot. It might be okay. He lived dangerously, anyways. What to get Orion, though…?
“Wash your hands,” Orion said as they traipsed down the stairs, “Flu’s going around your school, Abby.”
“I know,” she said, “Four people were out of class today. And Miss Koenig started sneezing during social studies. Bet we have a sub tomorrow.” She was shooting up like a weed, Elliott realized; at the beginning of the school year she hadn’t been able to reach the kitchen sink faucet herself, but she had no problem with it now. “But you make me take vitamins so I’ll be okay.”
“Not quite how it works, darlin’,” Elliott said, “but you wash your hands ‘nough an’ don’ share food with your friends an’ you’ll likely be fine.”
“Duh,” she said, and Orion’s eyes were bright with silent laughter across the table.
“Don’t say ‘duh,’ Abby. It’s not polite,” he said, and she was mid-eyeroll when she turned around.
“You’re not a teenager yet,” Elliott said, “an’ yet you’re sassy enough fer a girl twice your age.”
“I’m precocious,” she said, taking her seat. “Uncle Ryan says so all the time. Is this lasagna?”
“Baked ziti, actually.”
“Oh good, the tubes are more tasty than the ribbons!” Before either adult could say anything, she held up a finger. “Wait, I got this. ‘Pasta is pasta, it all tastes the same,’” she said, imitating her uncle’s precise diction, “and, uh, ‘S’not the shape, darlin’, s’the chef,’” in a very passable mockery of Elliott’s Georgia drawl.
“She don’ even need us here any more, Ryan,” Elliott said with a laugh. “Kid’s got the whole conversation herself.”
“Heaven help us when she learns how to cook and drive,” Orion said, “As soon as she doesn’t need me to take care of her…” He made sure to serve her some veggies with her pasta, and she wrinkled her nose at the green beans.
“Uh-uh,” Abigail said, “I can’t drive for eight more years. I guess you have to keep me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll keep you forever and a day,” Orion told her, leaning over to ruffle her hair. “It feels like you’re growing up so fast now.”
“I am,” she said with obvious satisfaction. “Check my height against my door, I’m way taller than I was last time you marked it off.”
“We’ll do it on New Year’s, like we always do, okay?” Abigail nodded, and Elliott waved his fork at her.
“Bet you’re almost five feet now, beanpole.”
“How tall are you?” she asked. “You’re the tallest person I know.”
“I’m six foot two. I used to play basketball, d’you know that?”
“Oh, really?” Orion looked interested. “In high school?”
“Yup. Wasn’t much good at it, though.” Elliott spent more time with splinted wrists and casted ankles than he did on the court, but he got even more attention when he was injured than when he was sick, and he learned to play it up real early on. “Bet I could dig up a picture,” he added, purely to watch that interested look intensify. As reticent as Elliott was with information about his early life, Orion went after the tiny nuggets of information he’d let slip as avidly as a treasure hunter.
“Cool,” Abigail said. “Uncle Ryan played soccer. He wants me to try it. I want to do field hockey, though.”
“You can’t do field hockey until middle school, sweetie. No one will let you play until then. Soccer will get you used to running up and down the field, though.”
“I c’n imagine you as a soccer dad,” Elliott said, but he was actually imagining Orion in soccer shorts. He really did have fantastic legs. “S’a good idea, Abby. Sports’re important.” He stretched out a leg under the table to drag his toes down Orion’s shin, and Orion arched his brows playfully.
“I know. Everyone says so,” Abigail said, “When it’s spring I can start with soccer. It’ll be fun!”
“That’s the spirit!” Orion said cheerfully. “But you’ve got three months until that starts. What do you want to do until then? You’ve been working on your art, right?”
“Yeah, we’re doing painting in art class right now and it’s really cool. And I made two bracelets yesterday! Look!” She held up her wrist, and sure enough, there were two brightly colored beaded bracelets there. “I made one for Kay and Hannah and I’m going to make one for Miss Koenig for Christmas. If she doesn’t get the flu and stay home for a week,” she added, shrugging.
“Those’re real purty, Abby. Nice colors!”
“Thanks! I really like making things. Would you wear one?”
“Absolutely,” Elliott promised, “Whenever I’m not workin’.” Abigail bounced in her seat, and Elliott and Orion exchanged glances across the table. Abigail’s present was figured out, and just in time, when Elliott caught sight of the microwave clock. “An’ on that note, time fer me t’go save some lives.” He put his plate in the sink, ruffled Abigail’s hair, and then smirked and ruffled Orion’s hair too. “G’night, darlin’,” he said, and both Bradfords waved at him.
Some nights were slow and easy; some nights it seemed like there was no end to the emergencies. It was still far enough in advance of the holiday that the partying hadn’t started in earnest, and the bad weather on the forecast hadn’t arrived yet, so this was one of the easier evenings. Marilyn insisted that she wanted to drive, so he didn’t even have that much to do; while they talked about their holiday plans Elliott searched craft store class schedules to sign Abigail up for jewelry making lessons. Half their calls were the type of all-call that required an ambulance just in case there was an injury, but no one was actually hurt, and they didn’t have a real emergency until three hours into the shift, a shooting at a nightclub and a scene swarming with cops.
By the time Elliott made it home in the morning, Abigail’s gifts had been totally taken care of, but he was still at a loss for what to give Orion. He fell into bed worrying about it, woke up seven hours later with an idea he wasn’t sure whether was great or awful. He’d spent the nearly two years of their relationship dodging direct questions about his past, being evasive any time he had even a feeling that Orion was doing the psychiatrist thing with him. But this far in, Elliott’s worries that Orion would cut and run when it came out just how crazy he actually was had been mostly laid to rest. And honestly, aside from the moodiness, Elliott’s worse tendencies hadn’t been making the frequent appearances they had in his prior relationships since Orion became part of his life, and he couldn’t exactly figure out why that was.
He owed Orion some honesty, he figured. Not that Elliott’s psyche was the kind of thing he could put a bow on, but letting Orion unwrap a few of his layers probably wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t much of a gift, but it was something he knew Orion really wanted. Which still didn’t give him something to put under the tree, but at least it was more than the nothing he’d had before that.
Having a variable schedule could be nice sometimes, but Elliott liked it a lot less when it kept him away from Orion for a whole weekend, reducing them to texting and too-brief calls for days. Still, the tradeoff for having Christmas and the day after off was longer shifts in the days leading up to the holiday, ten hours instead of the usual eight, ten hours on and eight off from Thursday night to Monday morning. He had all of Monday off, and then it was back on the grind until 6am on Christmas morning. When he showed up at Orion’s office at 4 on Monday afternoon, he had a bag of presents under one arm and bags under his eyes nearly as large.
“Have you been sleeping?” Orion asked after kissing him hello. “You look absolutely beat.”
“Not a lot,” Elliott admitted, dropping his head to Orion’s shoulder with a sigh. “Not fer lack’ve tryin’.” Orion made a sympathetic sound, stroking Elliott’s hair softly. He could even hear how tired Elliott was; his drawl was as thick as molasses when he was exhausted.
“You still want to go get food, or do you need a nap more?”
“No, ‘m good. Coffee’ll do me fine. Been waitin’ t’see you, ‘m not gonna waste that time sleepin’.” He yawned against Orion’s neck and shook his head slightly. “Ugh. Is it Christmas yet?”
“Sadly, no,” Orion said, and he cupped Elliott’s cheek when the tired head lifted, thumb brushing over the greying scruff Elliott hadn’t bothered to shave. “Still a few days to go.”
“Three more shifts,” Elliott sighed, “an’ then I c’n crawl inta bed nexta you an’ pass out ‘til Abby can’t wait fer presents any more.”
“You’re done at six in the morning?”
“Mmhm. Still okay fer me t’sneak in?”
“Abby’s going to come jump on my bed when her patience expires,” Orion said hesitantly, “unless you lock the door behind you, and then she’ll wonder why…”
"Girl's not dumb," Elliott said. Orion shook his head.
"No. She isn't, not at all."
"She knows somethin's up," he continued. "We're not 'xactly subtle."
"We're not blatant," Orion said, and Elliott gave him a dubious look. "She thinks you're my best friend. Best friends is something she understands."
"Orion, darlin', if she thinks we're a good 'xample of best friends, things'll get real damn awkward fer her real soon." Orion winced, and Elliott pulled him closer. "C'mere. I think you c'n tell her, now. She's smart an' she's kind an' she adores you, you've been raisin' her right, she'll understand."
"You're right," Orion said, "I know you're right, but it's still terrifying to think about explaining it to her."
"What's t'xplain? 'Honey, y'know how Elliott's here all the time? S'cause I love him very much.' She'll get it."
"Yeah, but..." Elliott silenced him with a finger across his lips, and Orion blinked at him before being kissed.
"But nothin'. Look, the world she's growin' up in, it ain't the world we grew up in. Kids ain't blind, and gay folks ain't stuffed in the closet no more. I promise you, she's gonna be alright with it." Elliott smiled crookedly. "How much more sense will it make that I'm your boyfriend an' not just a friend who's over all the time?"
"Okay. Yes. True." Orion still looked a bit distressed. Elliott kissed him again, carding fingers through his dark hair until he sighed and relaxed. "But how..."
"Tell her on Christmas," Elliott suggested. "Christmas mornin'. We’ll wake her up b’fore she c’n wake us up first. You c'n make your present t'yourself tellin' her the truth."
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart, your uncle's gay. Not something Santa would leave."
"Oh, I dunno. I'd be happy t’find you under my tree," Elliott said with a laugh, "wrapped up all purty with a bow, gimme a chance t'unwrap you..." He teased his fingers under Orion's shirt and up his ribs, making him gasp. "Mm, darlin', I could just keep you ferever."
"Would you, though?" Orion's voice was very soft, very close to Elliott's ear, and Elliott paused with his lips pressed to Orion's throat and his hand spread out along his side. "Keep me forever?"
"As long as you'll let me," Elliott vowed, "long as you want me for."
"And if I said forever?" Slowly, Elliott drew back to look Orion in the eyes. Behind his glasses, his dark gaze was worried but steady. He looked so vulnerable, and Elliott couldn't do anything but tell him the truth, as scary as it was to him.
"You want me ferever, you may be as crazy’s I am, but crazy’s I am, I'm more crazy ‘bout you, Orion." He caught Orion’s face between both hands and kissed him softly. “I’m crazy ‘bout the both of you. Abby’s precious t’me too.”
“She loves you too, you know.”
“I know. Girl’s somethin’ else, but she wears her heart on her sleeve s’much’s you do.” Orion smiled and shrugged, and Elliott had to kiss him again, a cluster of quick little smooches against his lips. “Part’ve what I love so much ‘bout you.”
“Elliott… Love you too.” Orion wrapped his arms around Elliott’s waist, and they stood holding each other until Elliott’s stomach grumbled. “Did you skip breakfast?”
“Might’ve fergotten it,” Elliott mumbled, and Orion drew back with a fondly exasperated look. “What? Slipped my mind.”
“Let’s get you fed before you fall over sideways, then,” Orion said, kissing him one more time before they left the office. They had lunch once a week at Frieda’s Diner a few blocks from Orion’s office, whenever Elliott’s rolling schedule let him off around the time Orion was done for the day. It was a favorite haunt of EMTs; Elliott had brought Orion there a couple weeks after they started their relationship, and it had quickly become a regular thing, a chance for them to have a meal together while Abigail was occupied with her after-school activities.
Once Elliott had downed one cup of coffee and started in on a second, he seemed more alert, blue eyes a little brighter. Under the table, Orion curled a foot around Elliott’s ankle, and no one paid any attention to the middle-aged men playing footsie in the back corner of the diner. “So what’s new, darlin’?”
“I read a really interesting article in one of my journals yesterday,” Orion said, leaning forward and propping his chin on one hand. “This one social scientist could reliably predict whether a relationship would last by observing a couple for a weekend. They set up a research lab that looked like a bed and breakfast and just had a bunch of couples come stay there and watched how they interacted.”
“Yeah? How’d they manage t’know?”
“Well, they tallied the number of requests for attention each partner made, and how the requests were responded to. They called the requests ‘bids’ and if a partner responded with interest it was a ‘turn-toward bid’ and if they blew their partner off it was a ‘turn-away bid.” Orion grinned. “I think that’s cute. ‘Bids.’ Anyways, the couples that split up had turn-toward bids three times out of ten, and the couples that stayed together had turn-toward bids nine times out of ten. It was all about responding with kindness when the person you love tries to engage you. If people starved their partners for attention, that showed contempt instead of kindness. So kindness is really the most important thing in a relationship.” He reached across the table, covering Elliott’s hand with his. “Isn’t that neat?”
“Requests for attention…” Elliott said, turning his hand under Orion’s to hold back. “Oh my god, Orion, that… that ‘xplains so much.” He sounded legitimately stunned. Orion tilted his head, perplexed by Elliott’s response, and Elliott shook his head slightly, eyes wide. “No, that just… somethin’ that’s been on my mind lately, that makes it make sense.”
“Really?” Orion squeezed his hand, smiling. “Good. Great. I, uh, I tried to think it through about us, you know, and we have way more turn-toward bids. I don’t know if it’s ninety percent, but it’s a lot.”
“You never ignore me,” Elliott said. “Never. Can’t think of once.”
“I think that’s an exaggeration,” Orion said, but he looked delighted. “I’m sure I’ve paid attention to Abby over you a few times.”
“Don’t count. Obviously she’s your priority, but really and truly, Orion…” Elliott lifted Orion’s hand and kissed the back of it. “You’re better t’me than anyone’s ever been.”
“Is that a high bar to clear?” Orion bit his lip as soon as he said it, realizing it was the kind of question Elliott never answered straight, but Elliott rested his lips against Orion’s knuckles for a moment, then shook his head.
“No. Not really. S’always been hard fer me t’get anyone t’pay attention t’me.” Orion’s eyes went wide, and Elliott’s lips quirked in something that looked like a smile but wasn’t one. “I always wanted it, tried real hard t’get it, but…” He shook his head again. “You give me freely what I always had t’beg t’get before.”
“Elliott…” Orion brushed his fingers against Elliott’s cheek, and then a cough from beside the table made him startle and take his hand back. Their waitress, a younger woman with a lot of facial piercings, gave them a look like they were an adorable YouTube video of kittens or something, accustomed to the pair of them coming in here but not usually being so openly affectionate.
“So here’s your waffles, and here’s your burger, and, um…” She smiled and gave them a thumbs up when she set their plates down. “You guys are just the cutest thing I’ve seen in weeks. Can I get you anything else?”
“I think we’re okay,” Orion said, blushing faintly.
“I’m good,” Elliott agreed, “Thanks, hon.” She nodded and left, and Elliott was on the verge of laughter when he looked back at Orion. “Damn, you’re cute when you blush.”
“I don’t blush,” Orion lied, “I’m far too old and dignified to do something like blush, don’t be silly.”
“Uh-huh,” Elliott said, “Bet I get you t’blush harder than that in the next two hours.” The heavy-lidded look he gave Orion was full of promises, and Orion went a bit more red just from that gaze. Elliott smirked and redirected his attention to his waffles, but under the table he caught Orion’s feet between his own.
Elliott had been nearly starving after neglecting to eat breakfast; he devoured the waffles and started in on stealing Orion’s french fries and dipping them in leftover syrup before Orion was even mostly done with his burger. “Sweet tooth acting up today?” Orion asked, and Elliott nodded, licking his fingertips clean.
“Sugar ain’t the only thing I’m cravin’,” he added with an arched brow, trying to get Orion to blush again, but it only made Orion finish off his burger a bit faster, just as eager to get out of there as Elliott was. They left their waitress a really nice tip when they left, and Elliott spread a big hand over Orion’s knee, rubbing little circles with his thumb while Orion drove them back to the house, where Abigail wasn’t expected to be home for another hour and a half.
They barely made it past the front door before Elliott pulled Orion into a long kiss, sweet and hot as Elliott’s over-sugared coffee. “I guess you missed me,” Orion breathed, looking up at Elliott with a hand curled at the nape of his neck. Elliott grinned and tossed his bag of presents onto the couch, sweeping Orion off his feet for another couple of kisses, pleased when Orion held him tight.
“Been a long weekend without you, darlin’.” He started tugging at the knot of Orion’s tie and got distracted when Orion tipped his head back, that long pale throat needing to be kissed immediately. It took a while for them to get upstairs and into the bedroom, but when Elliott left off the kissing in favor of whispering what he wanted Orion to do to him in Orion’s ear, he got hauled up the stairwell in short order, Orion trying to hide his reddened cheeks from Elliott’s gaze until they’d locked the bedroom door behind them and Orion pressed Elliott back against the door, leaning up to nibble Elliott’s lower lip.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you,” Orion murmured, his hands sliding up under Elliott’s shirt so he could drag his nails lightly down Elliott’s back in the way that made the taller man shiver every time. “Whatever you want, El.” His dark eyes had gone darker still, blown with desire, and Elliott couldn’t help the whimper that escaped when Orion tugged his hips forward, the delicious friction where they pressed together.
“Want you, ‘Rion. Need you.” That was Orion’s favorite, when Elliott’s drawl got so heavy that his name came out like that, the slight but distinct difference between ‘Ryan’ (what everyone else called him) and ‘’Rion’ (what only Elliott called him, in moments like this, lust-dazed or sleepy, just enough twist to the vowels to make it unmistakably his real name), and that Elliott was pleading for him just made it even sweeter.
“I’m all yours,” he promised, making himself back up before starting to unbutton his shirt, smiling at how quick Elliott was to lose his clothes and stretch his lanky body out across Orion’s bed, the way he watched Orion’s hands as he bared his skin bit by bit. “Stay right there…” The last thing off were his socks; once Orion toed them off, he came toward the bed, tickling the soles of Elliott’s feet and making his toes curl before prowling his way up Elliott’s body until they were pressed together along the whole length of their bodies, warm and close. Elliott wrapped his arms around Orion and pulled him fully atop him, sighing happily as Orion settled his weight securely above him, pushing his hips up into Orion’s.
Orion caught Elliott’s face between his hands, kissing him deeply, shifting a little until their cocks lined up and humming a pleased sound when Elliott’s hips rolled. Maybe Orion was easy to please all the time, but Elliott was so easy to please in bed, just wanted to feel cherished, and they always spent a long time kissing, Orion’s fingers playing through Elliott’s hair, Elliott’s hands roaming restlessly from Orion’s shoulders to his hips and back up. “God, ‘Rion, c’mon,” Elliott murmured against his lips, and Orion slid off to one side, letting Elliott roll over onto his stomach. He scratched down Elliott’s spine again, kissed his shoulder as he reached for the bedside table. “Fuck, need you so much.”
“I got you, I got you,” Orion assured him, kneading the slight curve of Elliott’s skinny ass with one hand as he grabbed the necessary items with the other. “Just a sec, I’m right here for you.” Elliott whined quietly when Orion’s hand left, whined again a little louder when Orion’s fingers came back slick, delving in to spread the lube where it was needed, rubbing with just a shade too little pressure to push in. Elliott’s spine arched, hips canting up, and Orion pressed open-mouthed kisses to the back of Elliott’s neck as one finger breached Elliott’s body.
“Fuck!” Elliott said again, pushing back eagerly against Orion’s hand. “Yeah, c’mon…”
“So impatient,” Orion teased, but he gave Elliott what he was asking for, the steady press of another finger, twisting and scissoring them and dragging breathless groans out of him as he was worked open with single-minded focus. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”
“Please, ‘Rion, gotta have you…” Orion rarely intended to make Elliott beg, but he did beg with the frequency and sincerity of someone used to having to beg to get anything they wanted. Seeking out Elliott’s prostate with his fingertips, Orion spent a moment on making Elliott tremble and moan, reveling in the pleasure-soaked sounds he made. A third finger got him some heartfelt cursing, and Orion made sure that Elliott was good and ready before he tugged Elliott’s hips up, getting him on his knees before lining up behind him.
“You have me,” Orion told him as he pushed into the welcoming clasp of Elliott’s body, “you have me for good.” He paused to catch his breath when he bottomed out, panting against Elliott’s nape as Elliott reached blindly back to clutch his hip.
“Never gonna let you go,” Elliott swore, gasping when Orion reached down to take his erection in hand. “Lord, ‘Rion, never ever let you go.” Now that he had Orion where he wanted him, Elliott was content to let Orion set the pace, and Orion couldn’t bear to take it slow, not with Elliott making promises like that. Not when every thrust earned him another honeyed whimper, not when Elliott kept saying his name like a prayer. He knew just what to do to take Elliott to pieces, knew how it drove him crazy to kiss the back of his neck, knew just how firm a grip to use stroking his cock, knew that sending Elliott spiraling over the edge would be what set him off himself.
“Love you so much,” Orion said, breathless and fervent, “Elliott, I love you,” and it was almost like magic, how saying those words pushed him over, how it was only a couple more thrusts before Elliott tensed up, his fingertips biting bruises into Orion’s hip as he came with a cry and then went boneless underneath Orion. Orion bit his lip, bowed his head, and raced toward his own finish, coming a moment later with a softer gasp and an equal subsequent bonelessness, sprawled over Elliott’s back like a living blanket.
“Christ,” Elliott sighed, reaching back to card his fingers through Orion’s sweat-damp hair. “I needed that somethin’ fierce.” He sighed, and it was a sound full of satisfaction, and more than a little exhaustion. “Love you too, more’n I c’n say.”
“But it’s so nice when you try to say it,” Orion murmured, dropping one last kiss between Elliott’s shoulders before withdrawing slowly, a quiet groan escaping as he slipped free. Elliott turned his head to watch Orion walk into the bathroom, coming back out a little more cleaned up and with a wet cloth to tidy Elliott up a bit as well. Elliott stretched out and nearly purred under the attention, looking up at Orion with undiluted adoration when Orion urged him to roll onto his back to finish the tidying. “Look at you. You have the expression of a man who got exactly what he wanted.”
“Oh, I did,” Elliott said, reaching up to pull Orion down for a kiss. “Thank you, darlin’, that was perfect.”
“Perfection is fleeting,” Orion said philosophically, “It’s something to constantly strive for.”
“We do that constantly an’ my heart may give out,” Elliott quipped, letting Orion pitch the cloth into the laundry basket before pulling him back into bed to cuddle. “I think three, maybe four times a week’ll do me fine.”
“I think that’s highballing it,” Orion laughed, tugging the sheet up from the bottom of the bed to cover them. “Mm. Have to get ready for Abby to come home soon…”
“What I’d give fer a nice long nap with you,” Elliott said wistfully, “jest a few hours sleepin’ nexta you without worryin’ ‘bout what Abby might interrupt…”
“Well, I’ll let her stay up late Christmas Eve and we might get until 9:30 or 10 on Christmas,” Orion said. “Heaven knows you can use more than three hours of sleep after a shift.”
“I don’ even wanna think ‘bout it right now,” Elliott groaned, burying his face in Orion’s shoulder. Orion stroked his hair, hummed something soft that lulled Elliott into a light doze, and he kept an eye on the clock over his lover’s shoulder to let him stay there as long as he could. They got a little more than a half an hour of cuddling time before Orion kissed the top of Elliott’s head to rouse him from his reverie.
“She’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” Orion said. “Do you need a real nap? When’s your next shift?”
“8am tomorrow,” Elliott said, hugging Orion closer for a moment. “I’ll sleep t’night. I hope.”
“You will,” Orion said, sounding more sure than he was. “I’ll just have to send you home all worn out.”
“Promise?” Elliott had that lopsided smirk that always made Orion want to kiss it off, and he had no reason not to do so right then, halfway sure that Elliott’s lips tasted sweeter when he had that expression on his face.
“Cross my heart,” Orion murmured against Elliott’s lips, kissing him again, softer and quicker. “I’d go home with you and tuck you in if I could. Hell, I’d just keep you here and tuck you in if I could.”
“Would you really?”
“If it wasn’t for Abby’s nightmares…” Orion paused, shaking his head. “You know, there’s no real reason to put off telling her until Christmas. I could tell her tonight. Maybe you could stay.”
“Kids talk,” Elliott said, “Lord only knows what she might say. ‘Uncle Ryan had a sleepover,’ that’d go down like a lead balloon.”
“I’d risk it,” Orion said, kissing Elliott’s forehead. “For you? I’d risk it. And I think she’d hold her tongue.” He got up still a bit reluctantly to get dressed, watching Elliott slide out of bed and do the same, picking his clothes off the floor and covering up the lanky body he so loved to see bare. “What do you think? Tonight or Christmas? I want you to be here when I tell her…”
“Of course,” Elliott said, “And-- I dunno, Orion. Let’s see what happens t’night, ‘kay? If it happens, it happens…” He caught Orion by the waist as he was pulling a t-shirt on, splayed his fingers out over Orion’s sides and drew his hands down to his hips. “Can’t resist that,” he chuckled, “jest th’perfect lines o’you. Like art.”
“I’m hardly art,” Orion said, amused, and Elliott shook his head.
“You are, darlin’. Poetry in flesh. Gorgeous.” They shared one more kiss in the locked bedroom before they headed downstairs to where their affections required more veiling, making it down just in time for the doorbell to ring announcing the craft mom of the week dropping Abigail off with a paper-shrouded something.
“Hello, Abigail! What did you do today?” Orion asked. She shook her head, clutching the artwork closer.
“You can’t see yet! It’s a present.” Carefully, she set it under the tree, and turned around to fix both older men with a stern look. “No peeking! You’ll see on Christmas.”
“An Abigail Bradford original artwork. Gonna be somethin’ amazin’,” Elliott said, and she beamed up at him. “We’ll jest hafta find out on Thursday, then. What else d’you do, kiddo? How was school?”
“School was okay. Miss Koenig is still out. So’s Amy and Esteban and Chiu and Ruth and Mark. I’m still not sick though. I had to run in gym and I didn’t even cough once.”
“Good girl. Have you been keeping up with washing your hands?”
“Yes, Uncle Ryan. All the time. I really don’t want to get sick!” She tugged on the end of one of her braids, adding, “Holidays are less fun if you don’t feel good.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Elliott said, tugging her other braid. “You won’t be sick. Knock on wood,” he added, rapping his knuckles against one of the branches of the tree. “How many more days of school d’you have t’go?”
“Just tomorrow. We get Christmas Eve off! Uncle Ryan and me are gonna make cookies for Santa, and watch Christmas movies, and he said I can open one present on Christmas Eve instead of waiting for the morning.”
“It’s a special Christmas Eve present, you have to open it then,” Orion said, and Elliott grinned-- it was an idea that Marilyn had told him she was doing for her kids that he’d relayed to Orion. “What do you want for dinner tonight, Abby?”
“Can we have grilled cheese?” She turned big eyes on Elliott. “Can Elliott make it? He makes the best grilled cheeses.”
“Oh no, not those eyes again. Those work on your uncle, kiddo. You know what works on me.”
“Please can you make dinner?”
“Absolutely I c’n do that. Magic word’s called magic for a reason, y’know.”
“It pays to be polite,” Orion added, and Abigail nodded rapidly.
“I know! I just forget. I always mean please, I just don’t say it sometimes.” She looked down for a second, playing with her braid, then back up with the kind of look she got when she was plotting things. “I’m going to do my homework before dinner so I can do fun things after dinner, okay?”
“Do you have a lot of it?” Orion asked. She shook her head.
“A spelling sheet and a math sheet. No problem! And then I can watch Frozen again?”
“Darlin’, how many times’ve you seen it now?”
“Fourteen…”
“And how many times’ve you made your uncle watch it?”
“Not fourteen!” Having learned her lesson, this time she turned the puppy eyes on her uncle. “Can I watch it on the tablet in my room? Please?”
“How about this: you do your homework before dinner, after dinner you read one of your library books for half an hour, and then you can have the tablet.” Orion was always pushing for her to read more, trying to instil a love of reading early on, and he was trying to balance good parenting with not minding getting the evening with Elliott while Abigail was thoroughly occupied.
“Okay! I got a book about myths that’s really cool,” Abigail agreed. “Call me when dinner’s ready!” And she bounced away, heading up to her room humming Let It Go. Elliott was having second thoughts about the blonde wig in a box under the tree now.
“I don’t understand what’s so enthralling about that movie,” Orion said, smiling and shaking his head. “But it makes her happy.”
“Can’t put a price on happiness,” Elliott agreed, “but it ain’t in short supply in this house.” He stole a kiss, and then Orion stole it back, and they were both grinning when they walked into the kitchen. Orion turned on the radio, and it only took a few minutes for Elliott to succumb to the holiday spirit and start singing along to the Christmas music, which was exactly what Orion hoped would happen. He was entirely enamored with Elliott’s singing voice, and Elliott’s habit of singing along to the radio apparently applied to holiday tunes as well as his preferred classic rock. Around the time he was serenading Orion with a very sincere and very goofy rendition of “All I Want for Christmas is You” using the spatula as a microphone, Abigail came flying into the room with a worksheet in her hand.
“The bonus questions are division,” she announced, offering the paper to her uncle. “I don’t know division yet! We’re not even learning that until January.”
“Hey, division is my favorite math,” Orion said, taking the paper from her. “Let’s see… oh, yeah, it’s just a couple of questions. You want to learn?”
“Yeah!” Abby said, “I want a head start. I like knowing stuff my classmates don’t know.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re a smartypants,” Elliott said. “Save the lesson fer after dinner, or it’ll get cold.” He set a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches cut into little triangles on the table, and Orion pounced on the opportunity.
“Actually… Abby, how many sandwich pieces are there?”
“Uh… sixteen? Yeah, sixteen.”
“Okay, so here’s nine of them…” Orion moved them over to another plate. “Now split that up into piles of three. Nine divided by three. What’s it make?”
“Three!” Abby said. “Oh, okay! And eight divided by two…” She rearranged the sandwiches again. “That’s four.”
“She’s a genius,” Elliott said, and put a bowl of tomato soup in front of her. “A hungry genius, I hope.”
“Thank you, Elliott,” she chirped, dunking a sandwich in her soup. While they ate dinner, Orion tried to explain division a little more, but without the practical demonstration with objects it was harder for Abby to grasp, and the sandwiches disappeared in short order. When they finished, she ran back upstairs to get her book and then curled up on one end of the couch, holding her book up from time to time so Orion or Elliott at the other end of the couch could tell her what a word was. She was reading about myths from around the world, and needed a lot of help with the Norse names. Orion never turned the TV on while she was reading; he was always playing catch-up with his professional journals, and Elliott had enough mysteries loaded on his tablet to keep him reading for months, so these little after-dinner reading blocks applied to everybody equally.
Continued in Part 2
