Mistletoe '05: Right (w/ Right Here)

Vin was standing at the door. It was closed, his back against it, still inside even though he should be leaving. Should have left a while ago.

He watched Ezra, drowsy but awake, and couldn't find any reason to go - even if logistics and rational thinking required it.

Christmas Eve was already well under way downstairs, the saloon all kitted up: greenery boughs, red ribbons, specially ordered oranges sweet and ripe in bowls on the tables. Inez had been cooking cinnamon on the stove top for the last week. It mixed with the beer and the sweat and smoke - it smelled far better than only beer and sweat and smoke.

Vin and Ezra were going to go, certainly. Wanted to go, had been looking forward to it for a long time, same as the rest of the boys. Would sit at their table, exchange their gifts with the others, eat with pleasure whatever had made Inez's eyes gleam with anticipation at cooking it for them.

But now he was stuck. In more ways than one.

It was already evening. Ezra's room was dark. The rest of the boys would already be downstairs. There was no good way for him to leave and show up far ahead of Ezra as they'd originally planned, as they really should do.

Ezra was stirring now. "We can simply arrive together, Vin. You can help me carry my gifts to the others. That will have to suffice as reason enough. Simpler is better anyway - harder to be caught in a lie."

Vin shook his head at himself. Reason enough, maybe, but maybe too not reason enough for them to show up together, no one having seen either of them since late last night.

He decided not to think on it.

It was Christmas. The greenery and oranges and cinnamon-scent and general high-spirits that came with all that would distract everyone enough. Just enough, hopefully, to make up for that not quite enough he and Ezra would be doing right now.

Usually they were much better at hiding themselves - hiding their relationship - hiding their love. Well, from all others, that was. Which is entirely what was required; entirely what had him a trifle worried, right now.

Vin nodded. "Yup," he said quietly. He didn't want to leave anyway. He wanted to stay, right here, wanted to watch Ezra dress and touch and taste a few more times before they'd have to go downstairs and have to pretend.

Carrying the packages would have to do.

Ezra rolled out of bed and there was just enough light to see him, shadows and gray and the faintest yellow touch from the light coming in from under the door.

He could see Ezra if he were blind, of that he was sure, because Ezra was all the light he'd need.

Vin smiled and straightened and in two steps he had his arms around that smooth, warm skin; too bad he'd gotten into his shirt that a while ago.

He held and they kissed then they stood, holding tight.

Minutes crept past - really, they should go.

But Vin was helping carry the packages and everyone knew how long it took Ezra. There was greenery and oranges and cinnamon and excitement. The rest of the boys were already down there, keeping themselves company.

It would all wait, at least another few minutes. For Vin and Ezra, Christmas was right here.

* * * * * * *

Vin pulled Ezra closer, breathed deep of Ezra's scent- Ezra's scent mixed with greenery and pungent orange zest and the lingering waft of cinnamon.

Ezra's kisses tasted the same, underscored by the richness that was merely everything Ezra- Vin's favorite of them all.

They laid tucked together, curled on their sides, faced the window. A silvery moon hanging low in the cold indigo sky, thin streams of icy clouds sparse, whereas the blue and white stars were abundant, a twinkling display of this Christmas night soon past.

No one had raised a brow or made mention of his and Ezra's arrival, late and together, each loaded down with a mix of presents intended for the others. It was as Ezra had figured, as Vin had known common sense would dictate- too much going on for him and Ezra to be important.

Which wasn't quite right. He and Ezra were important, to the others. That they'd shown up together flush-cheeked and a touch reluctant to part and stared too-long when no one else seemed to be looking wasn't.

Vin smiled, thought on the presents he'd given, the presents he'd received. Perfect, all, because that's how it was anymore for them, we seven. JD usually gave some of the best gifts of all, not the surprise outsiders might have expected it to be.

He'd sat back in his chair, sipped good stuff whiskey slow, liked the warm ease burn that coated his throat and made the night stretch longer, looser. They were alert enough to recognize that tonight there'd be no trouble, and otherwise, they were simply together and enjoying being so.

Laughter, sly teasing, impatient fingers on twine and brown paper, with brothers- friends- lover.

Christmas as it oughta be.

Vin had peeled four oranges. He'd taken his time, worked the blunt edge of his thumb beneath the white pith, made of it a game. In the end he had four perfect hollow shell peels, no breaks or tears, just single pretty spirals. The oil from the peel had scented his fingers and the air around them and he'd smiled at Ezra, smiled past to nod at Chris then Buck, nails under his nose while he appreciated chewing over a juicy section.

Two of the oranges he'd eaten. Two he'd peeled for Ezra.

Inez had bustled, brought too much food, too much and they'd eaten it all. She had stayed long enough to give each a token of the day, to take theirs given in return, then she'd shaken an affectionate finger at them and closed up behind her, muttering about church and the day and get home safe and all of them drinking far too much.

They had, and that was damn good in their eyes.

Only about an hour ago they'd finally drifted apart, broken from one another and the tight, cloying atmosphere that had settled in around them. JD was almost asleep, cheek in his palm, elbow on the table. Buck was forward on the table, low slump, arms out in front of him, large hands fiddling with the drying orange peel shells Vin had made far earlier.

Josiah and Ezra were keeping a quiet conversation. Chris was to a final drink, mellow and easy in his chair, content as that man got.

Vin had given up pretense - kind of - was leaning far to the right, forearm tucked on the spindle of Ezra's chair, fingers falling behind. Touches and swipes to Ezra's neck and no one could see.

Ezra always sat in the corner, facing the room.

Nathan had stood, eventually. Told them all a heartfelt and slurred happy merry good day and thanks for everything.

The day after wasn't a holiday and he had somewhere to be - he was sure he'd remember in the morning where - and dawn would be there soon so he should get some sleep before he met it.

That had been the push they needed.

Vin had slipped out the back, stood in the cold air, breathed deep and cleansed himself of the heavy greenery and souring oranges and cinnamon left too long. It still smelled good, inside, but was on the verge of turning- as all things do.

He kept pulling in air, eyes closed, half-smile because he'd enjoyed the evening and more his friends and most of all where he was now, who he had.

Ezra had knocked on the door from within, lightly, Vin's cue the rest were gone. He'd eased back inside, followed Ezra up the stairs, laid down his packages and took Ezra's, then they were undressing.

They'd slipped into bed, shivered with light laughter, kissed and held and Ezra and he had murmured things they said anyway, Christmas or not- love and thank goodness for you and hold me now until tomorrow.

Ezra had pressed in, face cradled in Vin's neck, against his shoulder and under his chin. He'd kissed there, tasted there, told Vin this was the better spice to be filled with.

Vin had laughed - he well knew - and they'd kissed more, in a while Ezra rolling so they could fit perfect seamless, hands entwined, watch the moon sink into dawn and wait for sleep.

He'd told Ezra it'd been a good day, that he'd had a good time, that he liked the treat of fresh oranges and greenery smell and the raw cinnamon sticks that Inez had warmed the air with. Ezra's thumb had traced his knuckles, felt his calluses, tender agreement.

Vin had wanted to apologize, for what he wasn't quite sure, and he knew exactly why. He didn't, left it unsaid and they'd gone silent, easy silence, and it was and would be fine.

There was a mar on the day, was all, an imperfection that Vin felt didn't belong, even though it couldn't be changed. He didn't not like Christmas. It was none of that- nothing bad, nothing against the holiday spirit and the sweet revelry and the few rare, gentle hours of camaraderie the seven could simply spend together.

It was just- his greatest gift was right here, in his arms, something he had to share with everyone else and could never claim as all his own.

Ordinary days he lived with it, thought of it as required and the better smarts and nothing you share with another anyway.

Christmas and he wanted more, wanted the more that Christmas made people feel they had to give- he wanted to hold Ezra's hand and put that orange zest scent on the fine-grained skin then lift it to his lips to taste, and have not one of his friends mind it.

It was just- sentimentality and one day, and one day always fades. Vin preferred what he had, knew it was more than enough, all his every happiness.

He spread his hand on Ezra's belly, let the warmth soak into his palm, smiled into Ezra's nape and breathed deep. Greenery and oranges and just the hint of cinnamon but most of all, Ezra.

End