Chapter Text
Matt’s and Al’s Soundtrack / Xmas Music / 2015 / Streaming…
All I want for Christmas…
The holiday aura floated about the mall; the golden glitter from ornaments, the music singing of good cheer and happy times, and Matthew closed his eyes for a second to enjoy the feeling of the holidays as he felt the hum of the escalator beneath his boots.
At the top of the ramp he bounced over with a little hop that mimicked the mood he was feeling. He glowed from the last purchase…he had finally found the perfect gift for America. He knew that America hadn’t bought one of these before. Maybe because he was too busy, maybe because his alien friend had better technology? Whatever the reason, he knew that he had found the perfect gift. He’d seen a video online that inspired him, and so he’d trucked off to get one. Snug in his bag (in a larger box as a decoy so that Alfred wouldn’t be able to guess it or if he saw it he would think Matthew had gotten a duplicate by accident). He had worked with the sales lady to get it into this nifty disguise. Alfred would never know! It was perfect.
Walking past a blur of hot pink and white and curvaceous women on bra posters, Matthew was about the pass right by the popular lingerie store when he heard a familiar laugh: buoyant and loud. Matthew stopped as if something had just thrown his world off its axis. Looking over he saw in the midst of two sales women dressed in black, and engulfed by rows and displays of lacy underwear and sparkling bras, his boyfriend, gold cowlick, and beautiful lips in a laugh.
Fire ignited Matthew’s heart, the burning smoldering pain consuming him, making his knees weak. Alfred was buying lingerie? Women’s lingerie? Matthew froze as he ducked down the hallway. Peering through the other doors he double checked to see if he had just imagined what he had just seen- could he be mistaken?
Nope. There was his dorky boyfriend in the midst of a store teeming with people shopping for women’s lingerie.
Who?
Matthew cringed, and pulled his stocking hat down lower. Who would Alfred be buying something for?
A woman?
Who?
The bag suddenly seemed too heavy in his hand. The joy that filled him as he shopped, the Christmas music that had been enjoyable, and his whole world suddenly dulled and died away.
Shaking his head, his hands trembling in rage and frustration, Matthew Williams looked one more time at Alfred F. Jones, laughing and blushing as the sales lady said something, and then they were leading him away.
Matthew turned around in a daze, and kept walking until he was at his car, and then at home. Without thinking he dropped his bag by the door, sat until the tea kettle whistled that the hot water he had put on was ready, and with hot chocolate (generously dosed with whisky) buried his head in his hands.
Back Door Santa
Alfred F. Jones was beaming. The chorus of Jingle Bells he obnoxiously sang loudly along with on the station that played holiday music from Thanksgiving onward (American Thanksgiving thank you very much) was stuck in his head. There was nothing better than Christmas! All the winter holidays made him feel giddy. An intoxicating high filled with consumerism, bad food (and lots of it), and the religious and nonreligious traditions made the world seem a little bit better.
Whistling up the walk, he realized he should be stealthier. He wouldn’t want Matthew to see his gift would he?! No way. Alfred was the master of stealth…right? Always good at being awesomely sneaky…He stopped whistling at once, and quietly tried not make a noise up the steps. He heard the growl before he reached the door.
There was Kuma, polar bear in all his magic glory, growling and pawing at his snout. The bags Alfred held were suddenly gripped in giant teeth and he was pulled over the steps almost losing his perfectly new Sorel boots and Northface jacket in the snow.
“Kuma!!!” Alfred hissed through his teeth, “Good polar bear, nice polar bear,” he cajoled, “Don’t ruin my presents! They are for Matthew!”
The bear, understanding the magical being who was very like his master said, “Who?”
“Matthew! Mattie! Canada!” Alfred picked himself up from the half crouch, checking his bags for damage beside toothmarks, especially the overly pink bag with ties.
“Sheesh.” Alfred very worriedly checked over the bright red down-filled coat, his vanity knew no bounds when it came to looking good for his boyfriend. Mattie liked him in red, and in proper snow gear…And there was that last time they went snowboarding… and there was all that fun taking off their very wet and cold snow gear…
Alfred could feel his eartips turn bright red as he suddenly felt warmth pool in his stomach. It was anxious, gnawing, and he was so excited for this Christmas and his gifts.
Slowing opening the screen door and wiggling the key in the lock quietly, Alfred tried to sneak in only to have the screen door betray him and slam with it’s full force smacking his ass as he came into the hall.
“Hey, don’t come in here yet!” Came the very quiet voice of his boyfriend from the kitchen. It seemed off though, like Matthew was really sad, or drinking, or something was just wrong.
Maybe something hadn’t shipped on Amazon? Alfred knew that feeling; just yesterday staring at his computer-which had promised, promised, that his gift was in stock and would deliver by Christmas- and was suddenly on back order and wouldn’t be available to ship until the 29th. Apparently Arthur hadn’t cared either, because he had called to whine about it, and the old man, sleeping, geez, in England hadn’t really cared about Amazon (and who cared about those bloody computers and the tossers at Amazon?) and Alfred mildly suspected England of having too much of the mulled wine he liked to make during the holiday season (and maybe the wankers at Amazon.uk had done the same thing?).
Needless to say, Alfred was totally fine with Mattie hanging out in the kitchen because he was about to Indiana Jones across the living room and upstairs to hide his own presents.
He did a very manly hop to take off his boots- at least they came off (there was that year in 1917 that they had totally frozen to his feet). And, geez, he should be grateful that though he had no sense of balance (he crashed with all the coolness that falling over could produce) he could take them off.
His was staring at a technology store’s bag as it sat, so innocently, on the floor- and why would Mattie have left it out if it wasn’t okay to look?
He peeked in the bag and saw the complete bundle of video games he’d gotten on Black Friday. Weird. Matt knew he’d gotten that gaming console (and the games with it) because he called to brag about it that night while wishing him a proper (American) Thanksgiving. Although Alfred forgot a lot of things (some he only pretended to forget because it was easier that way), he knew Matthew’s memory was like a trap. He wouldn’t have forgotten.
Alfred slipped off his other boot, his wallet falling out of his skinny jeans in the process. Suddenly it hit him- Matthew had bought that for somebody else. It was a very nice gift. Maybe Matthew knew someone who really wanted it- but who?
His heart caught fire within his chest. It was like the time he joined an eating contest, and had almost won, but much more painful. Pulling his head to his knees, he looked down at the patterned rug, willing the images to leave his mind. Japan? Prussia? His gut churned. Why wouldn’t Matt have told him? He helped him with all his shopping because, after all, there was no one quite like America when it came to hardcore online shopping.
His head suddenly hurt.
“Al?” It was still timid and came from the direction of the kitchen.
God, what if Mattie was upset because he thought Alfred had found out? “Yeah…” He breathed out his rage and hoped his suddenly upset stomach would calm down. A brilliant smile came across his face, just in case Matthew saw him.
He grabbed his bags and sprinted across the room. He heard Matthew behind him as he took the stairs two at the time exclaim, “Shit!”
The bag by the door. Matthew must know that Alfred saw the present.
Alfred flopped onto their bed, the checkered quilt a landscape laying across his view. He ignored the sudden burn in his eyes and the strange watery substance that dripped down his face.
Blue Christmas
Matthew stared down into the bowl of cookie batter he had been mixing up. Outside the snow caught the moon’s reflection turning the white to silvery blue. It mirrored his mood.
He wanted to excise what had happened earlier today from his head. Unfortunately, it seemed to replay over and over, as did the different scenarios of why Alfred had been in that store.
Water was dripping on his hand. No, it was tears. Rubbing away the evidence of what had been considered unmanly for the last hundred years, he heard his boyfriend rummaging around in the living room.
“No peeking!” Yelled the American victoriously as it was obvious there were presents being put under the tree. Matthew knew they were either perfectly wrapped with coordinated bow and paper (as they were wrapped by the store they were purchased at) or gleefully wrapped with tears and tape used like an ace bandage on a twisted ankle (the work of Alfred’s own hands).
“Yeah.” He said quietly.
Shadows played on the shimmering silver and blue blanket of snow outside. Maybe he would go for a walk after this agonizing night was over. Shoving the cookie batter into the fridge with a little too much force that the sweet doughy mix of hazelnut, flour, and sugar did not deserve, Matt then slammed the fridge door.
A startled blond head popped in the doorway. Matthew gave a weak smile and warbled out of wavering lips that almost betrayed him, “It slipped.”
“Ok.” The blue eyes were wary. They knew how his northern neighbor’s passive aggressiveness worked. “Are you sure? You wanna have me help with the cookies?”
“Maybe?” Matthew said. His heart flopped in his chest. It hurt and wanted to crumple in a corner, yet also wanted to pull Alfred close and never let him go.
“’Mmmkay? You wanna help me start the fireplace?”
Watching the yellow flames grow and flicker, starting from blood-red birth to charred black death, spreading from newspaper to twig to the final destination of larger logs, Matthew curled in on himself. He and Alfred usually spent most of this time arguing about the best way to start a fire, but he lacked the heart to do so at present.
“Come on, Mattie! I want sprinkles this time.” His boyfriend, manic to a fault, had already sprinted from the romantic fire into the kitchen. Usually there were kisses and sweet talk; Matthew felt empty.
Fondness spread into the bleakness as he watched Alfred use the star cookie cutter, tongue pressed against his lips in concentration, his lower body wiggling as if he were five and had so much energy he would burst if he didn’t move constantly.
“Those look good, Al.” Matthew realized they were sticking. “Wait- I’ll grab more flour.”
Sprinkling around the baking tray, Alfred swiped his finger through the flour and wiped Matthew’s nose.
“What.” Matthew sputtered.
“Haha!” Alfred laughed. “You look as scrumptious as these cookies!” As Matthew’s blush grew, he said with fluttering eyes, “Or just as sweet.”
Matthew’s laugh was self-deprecating as he opened the oven and put the cookies in.
Alfred was peeking around the corner to check on the fire and when he turned Matthew returned the flour favor, giving him a Simba christening of flour on his forehead. Alfred grinned and grabbed a handful straight out of the jar, giving Matthew a mini heart attack.
“Oh, this means war.” He muttered.
Alfred raised his eyebrows, “Bring it.”
The next hour was filled with flour everywhere, flying in between cookie trays going in and out, and a truce was called as the icing and sprinkles were brought out to decorate.
The last batch was in the oven and Matthew found himself wound up in the arms of his lover leaning against the counter. “You’ve aged overnight!” He teased.
Alfred shook his white-floured hair sprinkling his boyfriend and making himself sneeze.
Matthew leaned in, and white powdered lips met lips.
“You know,” Alfred said softly, that look in his eye. “We could just clean up in the morning.”
“Then you wouldn’t get pancakes before presents.” Matthew said softly, the back of his hand against those damning high cheekbones.
“Fine.” It came out in a huff and a pout.
Alfred built up the fire as Matthew cleaned up the kitchen. See, the tiny voice said in his head, it didn’t mean anything. Why would he cheat on you?
Stomping out for more wood, Alfred came back less flour-covered, and plunked down on the couch after filling the wood tray.
Matthew thought, ‘This is it.’
He came over and saw the widening blue eyes and instead of sitting next to his beloved, he sat on his lap facing him. His thighs on the other side of Alfreds’ his hands sliding around Alfred’s neck, skin still chilly from the weather outside, to brush into his hair.
Coldness quickly turned to warmth as Alfred took it for what it was worth. Warm big hands rested on the small of Matthew’s back where his shirt had shifted up, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.
“Alfred,” Matthew started, feeling so afraid all of a sudden. It wasn’t the fear of the trenches at Verdunne, or the fear of storming Normandy, but rather the sickly dread that had come when France had been walking away and there was another man who expected him to hold his hand, one who refused to speak his language and green eyes snapping with coldness. The emotions that nations shouldn’t feel. That human emotion of abandonment. Of not being loved.
“Alfred, you are happy with me?” His boyfriend looked up with wonderment, the lips that had been gently kissing chapped washed hands, pink against the white powdered wrists, making a moue of ‘o’.
“What?” There was such a deep confusion and hurt, Matthew recoiled.
“Nevermind. I just worry.” He waved it off, “It’s nothing. Nothing.”
Baby Its Cold Outside
Alfred had been angry. The anger that had been building in him since he was a lad. Young, brash, foolish, England had said waving it off with nothing. But no, it was a flame, wrath that boiled and burst out in the worst ways.
Yeah, Fucker. He thought as he split another log, the moon creating a gleaming masterpiece of dark blues, cerulean and white all around him.
“He’s mine!” He yelled to the fence in the distance.
So stupid, Alfred, so stupid. America could feel the blood boiling beneath his skin.
He didn’t want to yell at Matthew though. He was going to work it out so that nothing happened which he would later be sorry for. Like when they were teenagers, and everything he did with Matthew he’d regretted so much.
The satisfying crack of the wood torn apart beneath his axe soothed his rage.
He watched his boyfriend in the kitchen. Mixing, stirring, his head bent low in toil, his lovely strawberry blond hair tied up to avoid the flour and stove.
Beautiful. Of course he was. And who wouldn’t want him? Matthew was sweet, could a huge passive aggressive jerk, but made the best pancakes, loved hockey, and was the best kisser.
“That’s right, Frenchie!” Alfred yelled at the too-bright almost full moon. “You know it!”
“Alfred.” The voice was distance, calm, cutting through the wavering brisk cold of the air, “Why are you yelling?” He looked to the silhouette lined with warm light from the interior of the house.
“We should go to bed. Santa is coming tomorrow.” There was a tease at the end of that sentence.
You bet your ass Santa is coming, Alfred though with a laugh, but he couldn’t say anything yet, so he tried to make a poker face. “Coming!” He yelled back.
“What were you doing?” There was amusement in that statement. And sadness. Alfred could hear it. He had ignored it all day. He knew what it meant. And then that sadness gnawed on him eating away at his heart like the fox and Spartan boy. Maybe if he didn’t show his pain he would come away victorious.
“Were you howling at the coyotes or wolves again?” Matthew’s violet eyes were shaded a deep plum in the dying firelight. “Did they answer?”
“Nah. Just excited for tomorrow.”
“Oh.” It was that disappointed voice again. As if he could do nothing right. Did Matthew want to go out and follow the wolves? They had done that one winter in delight. It had been chilling, but exhilarating, knowing that the winters past of hoards of wolves seemed like they would never come again.
“Come up to bed…” Matthew said and started up the stairs.
Alfred put out the fire and made sure the screen was pulled up just in case. He just wanted Christmas to come quickly.
Maybe the magical feeling that came with it would erase everything that happened. And maybe for Christmas his boyfriend would love him and turn to him in delight, and the words he never want to hear would never appear, “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
Alfred’s shoulder’s slumped and he trudged upstairs.
Christmas in Hollis
The air that nipped at his toes was so cold, and tucking them into the warmth that seemed to engulf him felt so good.
Hmm…Alfred woke with his comforter over his head and his hair all weird like when he showered at night. He could feel it, Nantucket as wild as the rest. Restless, excited, and he realized…
“It’s Christmas!” He yelled down the steps, wrapping his blanket around him and stomping downstairs.
He could smell pancakes being made in the kitchen, his mouth watering at the scent. He poked his head around the door, admiring his boyfriend in his flannel pjs (the red and black a pretty contrast against his pale skin) and his hair tied up in a ponytail. He rested against the wood, probably looking needy and uncool, as Matthew looked up.
“Hey, baby.” His boyfriend smiled so beautifully at him, coming forward to give him a peck on the lips. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas!!!” he grinned against his boyfriend’s cheek. “Love you, babe.”
Matthew’s eyes glimmered for a moment then he pecked Alfred on the cheek again and hustled off to the stove to flip the pancake he’d just poured.
Alfred grinned at the fluffy sheepskin edged slippers his boyfriend wore and realized the pajamas Mathew was wearing were from their Black Friday exploits the previous year, “Nice slippers.”
Matthew gave a cheeky grin, letting his eyes wander slowly over his boyfriend’s buff body, Alfred now only holding the blanket on his sides, “Nice…everything…” He said, and Alfred could feel his heart beating hard.
Matthew could feel the bile rising in his throat as they sat down, stuffed and sated from pancakes with real maple syrup. How distracting it was to have his boyfriend half naked while cooking- he made Alfred go upstairs and put on clothes, and listen to the excited creaking as he went bounding up the stairs.
The living room was warm and glowed with the light from the fireplace and the morning brilliance pouring in the window off the sunlit snow. Matthew cautiously looked over at Alfred whose wife-beater tank-top was not helping his desperately impure thoughts. Watching his boyfriend basically vibrating with excitement, bouncing on his heels, peeking through the prettily wrapped (and not-so-prettily wrapped) presents, humming as he flipped the tags to read what was what.
“Can I start?!”
Matthew laughed at the bright voice. Was it all for show? Maybe he could seduce his boyfriend into not leaving him. Maybe they could just pretend and nothing would be the same. Matthew knew, even though he hated confrontation, that he would have to confront Alfred sometime.
“Here you go!” Matthew smiled with everything he could muster in spite of his dark feelings.
“I thought you wanted to go first?”
“Naw, I want you to open this first…” Matthew smiled and started popping open the sides of the box, slowing running his fingers under the tape to peel it off the ends of the present.
“I like the polar bears…” He smiled at the little white bears dotting a metallic blue background.
Alfred growled slightly impatiently. “I know you like pretty paper, but can you hurry up?” The whine was rather undignified, and Matthew smirked as he slowly unfolded the paper. Better to have his fun while he could.
The box was finally unwrapped, the shiny embossed brand now visible. He heard a huge gust come from Alfred, half exasperation and a bit of happiness.
Lifting the cover and pulling the seal off the neatly folded tissue paper exposed the loveliest wool scarf, plaid stripes in red, blue and green, all lovely and bright and cheerful. Matthew pulled it out and buried his hands into it. He’d only looked at it once, he swore. Maybe that time he and Alfred checked out the slopes in Alberta, in the big mall, on an off day, holding hands. Happy. Matt closed his eyes, trying to grasp that happiness and hope.
“Do you like it?!” Alfred exclaimed. “I thought you look really good in it.”
“Yes.” Matthew’s voice came out a little rougher than usual.
Alfred’s smile could have a twin in the bright snow outside, gleaming.
Matthew looked out to see Kuma dragging his present across the snow. Fish for the polar bear who was enjoying the cold.
“Ah, here you go.” He handed the present to Al. It really was the only gift he had gotten. They had promised to stick to budgets this year. Trying to emulate what their citizens were feeling was something him and Alfred wanted to try this year. Matthew’s favorite Christmas’ of the past had been the ones where the gifts had been small and well thought out.
“Whoa! It’s big!”
“That’s what she said.” Matthew said without thinking.
Alfred snickered. The paper flew off like he was five, showing the videogame box.
Alfred just stared at the box. How did he tell Matthew that he had this set? Matthew had this giddy expression on his face, and Alfred was trying to smile and not show the deep disappointment on his face. “Wow! Babe! Thanks!” It wasn’t fooling anyone. No Oscar-winning performance here.
Matthew actually laughed. It made Alfred’s heart race and him to feel a bit better. Matthew had been so subdued. Even more than usual. “You are so funny.” Matthew smirked at him, “Keep going…”
Alfred’s heart started to race. He just realized that the mysterious person he had thought would receive this gift was non-existent. He slowly opened the box that he realized was taped shut. The excitement and joy grew bubbling up through his whole being, as he ripped off the top to show a new packaged most awesome drone!
“Oh my god.” He breathed out. “Yes!” He exclaimed lofting his prize. “Now I can use this at world meetings!”
Matthew smiled wide and happy. “Gotcha! Didn’t I?” Alfred looked to see him still laughing, “And I don’t think the others are going to appreciate you using it at world conferences.”
“Oh man, Mattie. I am so going to harass Arthur.”
Matthew’s eyebrows raised but he just kept smiling. “I couldn’t believe you didn’t own one. So it might not be the model you wanted…” There was an apology in there, lurking, and all Alfred could think of was how he was the guilty one and should be apologizing for thinking that Matthew was thinking of dumping him.
“No! This is perfect…You are perfect.” Alfred said lowly across the room, watching as Matthew’s startled face from his declaration turned that pretty pink, splashed along fine cheekbones.
To hide his sudden urge to cry, Alfred bend down and reached for the present. His nerves flared again for other reasons. He felt suddenly very stupid. “Here.” He shoved it at Matthew who was slowly wrapping the scarf around his neck. Primping slightly and tying one of those fancy French knots, Matthew stopped to take the present, and Alfred’s special, taped-to-the-teeth wrapping paper basically forced and strangling the gift box.
“Oh…”
Matthew just stopped and stared at the pink box with stripes that came into view.
“Yeah…” Alfred rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
His heart was racing. It felt like he had just completely a marathon, his legs like noodles and a joyous release of victory, exulting fierce happiness flew through him. That gift, that had crippled him with fear and tormented him with worry, bought at the boutique had been for him.
Wait. Matthew suddenly thought. Maybe it was just used as a prank. Maybe Alfred had done what he had done to hide Alfred’s gift. Maybe it was a pink box that was hiding a regular gift. He looked up to smile weakly at Alfred.
Alfred was bright red and looking horribly embarrassed.
Matthew slowly pulled off the cover of the box. No, he let out a trembling breath. The wrapping inside was pink, too. He tore it apart gently with long fingers under the shiny gold seal. There was something fuzzy and red. He pulled it out to hold in front of him with trepidation. A bright red Santa skirt trimmed with fluffy white trim.
“Uh…” was the only thing his boyfriend said when he looked across the room. “There’s more…” It came out weak and in a southern drawl.
Matthew delved in and pulled out candy cane style striped thigh-highs and very cute matching panties. Also, there was a crop top which matched the skirt and a Santa hat in the box.
“Um...” Alfred tried again, “I can wear it if you don’t want to…” Here he was tugging at his neck again, “I got some help trying to find out something that would fit you, but we are pretty close in sizes and I don’t mind…”
Matthew wanted to cry. Never in a million years did he think he would clutch a Santa-inspired piece of women’s lingerie to his chest fiercely as he was buried deep in magenta tissue paper. He leaned over to his very flustered boyfriend and kissed him.
Deep. Lips on lips until Alfred broke to speak something else, and Matthew took the opening and slid his tongue in, making his toes curl as Alfred did that thing with his tongue he liked so so much.
As they released Matthew sat back down. “I love it.” He whispered to Alfred whose eyes held yearning and desperation. “I’ll be the one wearing it.” He grinned and coyly said, “if you want...”
Alfred feeling overwhelmed by hot boyfriend and the visions of him in that outfit could only whisper, “Yes, please.”
This Christmas was the best Christmas ever. He kissed Matthew again, and felt him kiss with the same kind of desperation. There was such happiness in Matthew’s face that Alfred had so sorely missed this past day. There was no more of that underlying sadness that seemed to have made Matthew preoccupied. And Matt was his Matt. Only his, and his heart felt so light. “I love you.” He smiled at his hot boyfriend. Matthew blushed and smiled back at him.
“I love you too!”