Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Edward, darling…” 

“What?” Edward asks, looking up from his laptop at the cafe counter, already sounding defensive.

“I told you not to come out in public wearing that jumper,” Alfred sighs. 

“Yes, and I ignored you,” Edward responds stubbornly. “I happen to like this jumper. It’s Christmassy! If I can’t wear it now, then when can I wear it?”

“Never?” Alfred suggests. “I know you’re gorgeous and you can get away with wearing most things” - Edward’s cheeks flush pink -  “but that jumper is just completely ridiculous. I mean, you look like Colin Firth at that Christmas party in Bridget Jones’s Diary, for god’s sake!” 

“So I get the girl?” Edward answers, unfazed. “Or the boy, in this case, I guess.”

He raises his eyebrows at Alfred, smirking slightly, and Alfred feels himself blushing immediately.

“You know full well you’ve already got the boy,” he mutters. “But don’t change the subject,” he adds hastily, trying to recover some of his pride. “You might not always have the boy, if you insist on wearing Christmas jumpers that are quite so stupid!”

“You’re not going to leave me over this jumper, though, are you?” Edward asks, grinning at him. 

Alfred huffs, feeling his cheeks turning pink again. 

He knows when to admit defeat. Sitting there at his laptop with his reading glasses on and his hair curling against his forehead, Edward looks even more distractingly gorgeous than usual - despite the hideously naff red Christmas jumper he’s wearing, complete with reindeer and their protruding pompom noses. 

“No,” Alfred admits. “I’m not going to leave you over that jumper - I’m not going to leave you over anything , in fact.”

It’s Edward’s turn to flush this time. He beams at Alfred, his whole face glowing, and Alfred can’t help but smile softly back at him, feeling his heart swelling with love in his chest as always. 

It’s been six months since Edward finally confessed his love, six months since the two of them subsequently started dating, and Alfred still can’t really believe how lucky he is. Every time he looks at his best-friend-turned-boyfriend, he feels his heart leap with happiness, just as it had done on that night when Edward had come back to the apartment and told Alfred that he loved him. Alfred still isn’t quite convinced that he’s good enough for Edward - in fact, he’s not sure he ever will be convinced, despite the number of times Edward has told him how amazing he is. But he’s certainly been doing his best to be worthy of him over the last six months, cuddling him, making and buying gifts for him on a whim, talking him through his occasional anxiety attacks, even doing his best to make pancakes for Edward using his traditional recipe, though they never seem to come out quite as fluffy as they are when Edward cooks them. 

So...surely he’s earned the right to tease his boyfriend every now and then, just a little? 

“Regardless,” Alfred says, forcing himself to come back to the present. “We all know I adore you, Edward - but that doesn’t stop it from being a terrible jumper.”

“I agree with Alfred,” Charlotte pipes up suddenly from her seat next to Edward at the counter, finally turning away from Cecilia to give her older brother a shit-eating grin. 

“What?!” Edward protests. “Char, you’re the one who gave me this jumper in the first place!” 

Charlotte’s grin grows wider. 

“I know that,” she responds. 

“I was the one who picked it out for you though, Edward,” Cecilia pipes up. 

Alfred snorts, exchanging a grin with Cecilia, while Edward sighs, rubbing a hand wearily across his forehead. 

“Of course you were,” he mutters. “You’re not all just going to gang up on me, are you?”

“Yeah, I think we are, actually,” Charlotte answers. 

“Oh, come on,” Edward huffs. “Flo? This jumper isn’t that bad, right?” he asks, turning to Florence for backup. 

“What?” Florence asks absentmindedly, finally looking away from Mina. The two of them have been leaning towards each other over the counter throughout this conversation, murmuring quietly to each other, elbows on the counter, hands entwined. Florence still has a dopey, lovestruck grin on her face as she looks up at Edward, and she doesn’t bother to disentangle her hand from her girlfriend’s. Alfred grins to himself - evidently, neither of them have been listening to the others’ conversation in the slightest. 

“I said,” Edward repeats patiently, “you don’t think this jumper is that bad, do you? They’re all bullying me - but you’re on my side, right?” 

“Oh,” Florence says, a touch awkwardly, as though she’s still not quite sure what they’re all going on about. “Right. Um...yes, it’s a very nice Christmas jumper.” 

“Thank you, Flo,” says Edward, giving Alfred a satisfied look, as though he’s proved his point admirably. 

Alfred huffs a laugh, feeling the by-now-familiar sensation of his heart melting in his chest. 

“What?” Edward asks indignantly. 

“Nothing,” Alfred answers, grinning as he shakes his head. “Just...I love you, that’s all.” 

Edward flushes scarlet immediately. Alfred rolls his eyes affectionately - no matter how many times he says those words to his boyfriend, Edward still blushes every time as though it’s the first time he’s ever heard it. It’s hopelessly adorable. 

Instinctively, he leans across the counter, pressing his lips gently against Edward’s, grinning a little as he feels Edward’s lips curving into a smile against his. It’s easy to sink into his boyfriend, to get lost in the feeling of his soft mouth - or at least, it would be, were it not for the exaggerated groan of annoyance from said boyfriend’s sister. 

“Can we go back to discussing Edward’s jumper, please?” Charlotte complains. “Some of us are trying to eat here! I mean, my god , get a room !”

“I’ve been telling them that for months ,” sighs Victoria, suddenly appearing as if from nowhere, laden with bags of coffee beans from the back room. “But unfortunately it still hasn’t seemed to get through their thick skulls yet.” 

“She even tried to tell Edward to stop coming into the cafe and distracting me at one point,” Alfred tells Charlotte, grinning.

“Yes I did,” Victoria confirms, sighing again. “But sadly, I realised that this sap sitting here drinking all our coffee while he flirts his head off with Alfred is actually half of our income. So, against my better judgement, I let him come back.”

“I’ll order another coffee?” Edward offers apologetically.

Victoria narrows her eyes at him. “Fine. As long as you bloody tone it down a bit with the PDAs, and maybe encourage Alfred to actually do his job for once rather than just making out with you over the counter? I swear, between you two and Florence and Mina over there, it’s a wonder we have any other paying customers left.” 

“Come on, Vic, it’s nearly Christmas!” Alfred protests. “Surely we can afford to relax just a little bit? Anyway, you told me yourself you were glad we’d finally gotten our shit together and put everyone out of their misery!” 

“Yeah, I said that six months ago, Alfred,” Victoria points out. “At the time, I didn’t think anything could be more annoying than you two and your obvious pining, but you’ve definitely put that theory to the test since then. Flirting and making out left right and centre everywhere I turn…”

Edward flushes crimson again.

“Stop being mean to us,” Alfred complains. “You don’t want me to have to retract your invitation to our Christmas party, do you?” 

“Who are you now, Pippa Elton?” Victoria snipes.

Alfred sniggers a little. It’s strange to think how often Pippa used to come to the cafe - especially as she apparently used to come here solely to hit on him, not that he ever realised that at the time. He supposes it’s lucky she never really shows up here anymore - he’s not entirely sure she’d appreciate the fact that her name has essentially become a byword for immature, petty bitchiness.  

“Pippa Hawkins now, remember?” Alfred reminds Victoria.

“Whatever, like I give a shit,” she responds, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, as if you’d ever retract my invitation - I’m the main draw for all your other guests, dorks. Besides, you know I’m your favourite.”

“Actually, Edward’s my favourite,” Alfred objects, making his boyfriend blush again. “But...okay, yeah, you’re my second favourite,” he admits reluctantly. 

“Hey!” Cecilia and Florence say simultaneously and indignantly; apparently Florence has finally torn herself away from Mina long enough to listen to the conversation. Alfred shrugs and grimaces at the two of them apologetically. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Victoria replies, smirking slightly as she rolls her eyes. “Anyway, some of us are adults and actually do our jobs at work instead of flirting, so I’m gonna go. The point is - get a room, losers.” 

“Love you too, Vic,” Alfred answers sardonically, as Victoria picks up a box of sugar with a huff and heads back to the storeroom. 

“She has a point, though,” Edward admits, grimacing slightly. “I should probably stop distracting you for once.” 

Alfred turns back to his boyfriend, pouting slightly. He opens his mouth to remind him that technically, he was the one who had distracted Edward from his work - as per usual - but he is distracted by the tinkling sound of the bell above the door, announcing a new arrival. 

Turning towards the door, Alfred can’t help but grin at the sight of two people he hasn’t seen in almost six months - the incorrigible Will Peel, hand in hand with his endlessly patient boyfriend James Grey. 

“I know you’re all very excited to see me,” Will announces loudly, “but no autographs, I’m afraid. I’ve given out so many already, I’m exhausted. And that’s just this morning.” 

“Will, shut up, you’re going to get us thrown out for annoying everyone,” James huffs, though there’s an affectionate grin on his face even as he rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. 

“Eh, wouldn’t be the first time,” Will responds, shrugging as he grins down at James. 

“I was wondering when you two were going to come swanning in from your travels!” Alfred exclaims delightedly. “About time!”

“The one and only Alfred Paget,” Will sighs dramatically as he and James walk over to the counter, still hand in hand. “Oh, how I pined and missed you while we were away! Didn’t I, Jamie?”

“You missed me so much that it took you about three to five business days to respond to my messages on Instagram?” Alfred responds sardonically. “Every time, Will!” 

“Well, we didn’t always have WiFi!” Will protests, and Alfred can’t help but grin at Will’s expression of mock indignation. It really is good to see him again. “And there were lots of exciting things to see! And Jamie here was distracting me in the very best of ways - so it’s really his fault, when you think about it.” 

Alfred rolls his eyes as James flushes scarlet, nudging his loudmouth boyfriend hard in the ribs. Edward, meanwhile, shifts uncomfortably in his chair at the counter; Alfred bites back a grin, knowing that his boyfriend is doing his utmost to keep his expression neutral rather than disapproving. 

“Welcome back, James - and Will,” he adds reluctantly. 

“Lovely to see you, Edward,” James says sincerely, smiling at him. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Of course, my pining for Alfred was nothing compared to my longing for you, Drums,” Will says, flinging himself down into the free seat on Edward’s other side with a dramatic sigh. “Seriously, I was bawling into my pillow every other night...I mean, it wasn’t pretty. I was a mess . I considered telling Jamie that I might have to leave him so I could run back to Highbury and confess to you that you’ve been the man of my dreams, all along - but you know, I just couldn’t bring myself to break Jamie’s heart like that. Plus, Alfred here would get cross with me for stealing his man.” 

Alfred sees Edward’s jaw tightening as Will places a hand on his arm - always a warning sign. 

Of course Edward knows by now that there’s absolutely nothing between Alfred and Will, and there never has been - other than a spot of flirtation early on, or perhaps more than just a spot, if Alfred’s entirely honest with himself. But even though Edward and Alfred have been happily in a relationship for months now, as have Will and James, Edward’s sentiments towards Will don’t appear to have changed very much. There seems to be a fundamental personality clash between them, as far as Alfred can tell - Edward simply doesn’t like Will very much. Will is naturally loud, flirtatious, boisterous, reckless and more than a little attention-seeking - the polar opposite of Edward, really. Edward had only very reluctantly agreed to invite both Will and James over to their Christmas party, once Alfred had heard that they would be back in Highbury in time for Christmas. 

For his part, Alfred is rather fond of Will, despite his shenanigans, and he’d love it if his friend and his boyfriend could learn to get along with each other. But, he has to admit, Will’s teasing isn’t really doing much to help matters. 

“Okay!” Alfred says hastily, before Edward can respond to Will at all. “Who wants coffee? Don’t even pretend you’re going to have it black, Will - white chocolate latte?” 

James sniggers quietly as Will huffs.

“How do you know I haven’t developed a more mature and sophisticated palate while I’ve been away, Paget?” he protests.

“He hasn’t,” James assures Alfred. He grins as Will huffs again. 

“Fine, I haven’t. Can I have something Christmassy, please?” 

“Cinnamon gingerbread latte?” Alfred suggests. 

“Yum!” Will responds enthusiastically, his whole face lighting up. James sighs, rolling his eyes affectionately again. 

“Just a regular black coffee for me, thanks, Alfred,” he says with a smile, sitting down on his boyfriend’s other side. 

“Aww, don’t be so boring, Jamie, it’s Christmas !” Will complains. “Come on, join me, just this once!” 

James opens his mouth to shoot back a retort, but Will gazes back at him with the most ridiculous puppy eyes Alfred has ever seen, and James sighs, caving immediately. 

“Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes even as he smiles softly. “Make that two cinnamon gingerbread lattes, please.” 

“Coming right up,” Alfred responds with a grin. 

“So, how have you been, Edward?” James asks, leaning across his boyfriend to speak to Edward, with a slightly apologetic edge to his voice, as Edward is still leaning away from Will as much as he can, his jaw still tensed. “How has your work been going? You’re still writing articles for Robert, right?” 

“Yeah, I am,” Edward responds. “I’ve actually just been writing about homelessness in Highbury, there was this charity group that was organising a fundraiser for the Christmas period. You’ve probably already heard about it, actually…”

Alfred keeps half an ear on the conversation as he makes the ridiculously sweet lattes for Will and James. As he listens, he feels a sense of relief that Edward seems to be gradually getting more relaxed and less tense, mingled with the familiar feeling of pride in his boyfriend as he modestly discusses his work, as though what he does is nothing special. As though he’s nothing special. Which is ridiculous, of course, given that there’s nobody more special than Edward in the world. God, Alfred thinks, shaking his head slightly at his own thoughts. Has he always been this much of a sap?

“Here we are,” he announces, hoping to god that he doesn’t look as hopelessly lovestruck as he feels, or he’s never going to hear the end of it from Will. “Two extra Christmassy cinnamon gingerbread lattes.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” James says, taking them with a grateful smile and passing one along to his boyfriend. 

“Cheers, Paget,” Will says, raising it in a toast. He turns to Edward. “Oh and by the way, Drums, I meant to say this when I came in - my blind eighty-year-old grandmother just called to tell you that even she wouldn’t want to be caught dead in that Christmas jumper.” 

Alfred stifles a laugh, as Edward’s jaw tightens yet again.

“Thank you for your input, Will,” he answers, his voice positively dripping with sarcasm. 

“We already discussed the jumper before you got here,” Alfred informs Will. “We all made our opinions clear already, no need to rehash it.”

“Good,” Will responds, taking a sip from his latte. 

“You’re right though, it’s pretty shit,” Charlotte pipes up. 

Edward sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Anyway, you know about us already,” Alfred says hastily, before his boyfriend can snap. “You two are the ones that have been gallivanting around Australia for the past six months - tell us about your adventures! Are the spiders really as huge as people say?” 

Will makes a pfft noise. 

“That’s just a lie they tell tourists to scare them,” he says scornfully. “If you’re spending a lot of time in the cities like Melbourne and Adelaide, like we did, you’re mostly only going to see tiny little spiders, same as you do over here.” 

“And yet, you were still prone to shriek and beg me to take them outside whenever you saw one,” James muses.

“What! That’s not true!” Will protests indignantly, looking at his boyfriend with an expression of deep betrayal on his face. James raises an eyebrow at him wordlessly, and Will sighs. “Okay, yeah, fine, it’s true,” he mutters. Alfred sniggers. 

“I assume you had other adventures though, besides fleeing in terror from the spiders?” he prompts.

“God, yes - so many adventures!” Will answers, looking over at James, his face alight with the excitement of remembered travels. Despite himself, James smiles softly at the look on his boyfriend’s face. “Firstly, no offence intended to the coffee here, Alfred, it’s very nice, but you have not lived until you’ve gone to the coffee shops on Degraves Street in Melbourne! Melbourne was our last stop before we came back, we only got back to Heathrow two days ago - it’s kind of disorientating seeing all the Christmas decorations up in the heat of summer, actually.”

“Was it really boiling?” Alfred asks, intrigued.

He’d love to visit Australia, but he’s never had the chance so far. Maybe one day he’ll go with Edward, he muses, shooting him a little smile, his heart warming immediately when his boyfriend smiles softly back at him. 

“Melbourne and Adelaide weren’t so hot,” Will muses. “When we did a road trip across the Nullaboor - that was pretty intense heat. But I loved it.”

“Mm...I think you might have been enjoying yourself a little bit too much,” James says.

“ This again?” Will complains, pouting at him. “I only drove the car naked that one time!”

Edward chokes on a badly timed sip of coffee. 

“Okay, Will, it’s misleading to say ‘that one time’, when in fact you were driving naked for about eight straight hours,” James counters. 

“Well, it was hot! And there was literally nobody except you and me for miles around!” Will protests. 

“Yes, which was not ideal considering that you thought you’d entirely filled the petrol tank and it turned out that you had not, in fact, done that,” James reminds him. 

“I forgot! I already said it was my bad, remember?” 

“Wait, pause for a second,” Alfred interjects, thoroughly entertained. “Are you two about to tell us that you broke down? In the middle of the desert? With Will naked in the driver’s seat? How are you two even alive?”

“No, we very nearly broke down in the middle of the desert,” James clarifies. “We managed to find a petrol station just in time, thank god. This idiot here couldn’t remember exactly where he’d put his clothes, though, so he curled up in the back seat inside a sleeping bag while I went into the petrol station, fully clothed, like a normal person , and just pretended I was travelling by myself. I think the man at the till thought I was insane anyway, travelling by myself in the Nullaboor, but...I suppose it could be argued that I am insane, given that I’m willingly dating this complete disaster.” 

“You still love me, though,” Will says, with a satisfied grin.

James huffs.

“Yeah. I do,” he admits. 

He turns back to the others, who have huddled around curiously to listen to tales of their adventures - even Florence and Mina have managed to tear themselves away from each other for once, Alfred notes with amusement. 

“Anyway, Will is the one who loved the heat when we were over there,” he continues. “I wasn’t as much of a fan - though I’m not as well-travelled as he is, of course. I usually prefer the cold, to be honest.” 

“Oh, Jamie, you know it’s not because you’re ‘not well-travelled,” Will objects, his face splitting into a shit-eating grin. “You preferred it when we were somewhere cold because it gave you a convenient excuse to snuggle up to me very tightly.” 

All heads swivel round to look at James, who blushes scarlet immediately.

“What...no...that’s not…” he splutters indignantly. 

“It’s true!” Will crows, looking positively gleeful at the reaction he’s caused. “Jamie here gets very clingy and cuddly when he’s cold. And I personally think it’s unfair that everyone always assumes I’m the corrupting influence in this relationship. Sometimes, when Jamie was really cold - like when I persuaded him it would be a good idea to sleep under the stars, for instance - he’d get into a very particular mood. Wouldn’t you, Jamie? I would wake up to find that his tongue was already curled -” 

“Yes, okay ,” James cuts him off hastily, his face now a deeper shade of crimson than Alfred had even thought possible. Alfred, Charlotte and Cecilia all cackle delightedly. “You don’t have to share every detail about our trip, you know, Will.”

“No, you really don’t,” Edward mutters under his breath, looking scandalised. 

Alfred tries not to laugh at the expression on Edward’s face. Once upon a time, he had assumed that Edward, with his prudish and conservative family upbringing, was uncomfortable with sex in general. He knows better now, of course - his boyfriend is more than comfortable with sex, as he can attest all too happily. But Edward still wouldn’t be hugely thrilled if Alfred were to start publicly boasting about how satisfied he is - as far as Edward is concerned, it’s something very private and personal between the two of them. Yet another area where he and Will Peel don’t see eye to eye, it seems. 

“Anyway,” James continues, pushing his chair back from the counter a little, “before you go blabbing any more about things that nobody else needs to hear , Will, we’d better get going - we’re supposed to be meeting Robert and Emma, remember? I apologise for my idiotic boyfriend, everyone,” he says, turning to the others with a small smile, “but it was lovely to see you all and catch up! Looking forward to seeing you all at Edward and Alfred’s Christmas party! Will, are you coming?” he asks, turning back to his boyfriend and holding his coat out for him. 

“Just a moment, Jamie,” Will answers. To Alfred’s surprise, Will turns to Edward. 

“Hey, um...Drums?” 

“What?” Edward asks suspiciously, his jaw already tensing slightly again. 

“I was...well, I was kind of wondering if you might help me,” Will confesses, sounding much less sure of himself than usual. 

“What?” Edward asks, sounding just as shocked as Alfred feels. “You want my help? What could I help you with?” 

“Well...you’ve already bought a Christmas present for my dad, right?” Will asks. 

“Yeah, of course,” Edward responds. “Why?”

Will squirms uncomfortably in his seat, as though he’d really rather not be having this conversation. He glances at James, who nods encouragingly - evidently the two of them have discussed this beforehand. He takes a deep breath.

“Well, the thing is,” Will says awkwardly, “I still haven’t got him anything yet. I don’t really have the faintest clue how to buy presents for my dad, to be honest. We’ve never really…” He shakes himself slightly. “Anyway, my point is - I was wondering if there was any chance you could come and help me with a spot of Christmas shopping at some point before the party? Please?”  

He gives Edward a lazy grin, as if he’s eager to give the impression that this isn’t that important to him, that he could really take it or leave it - but Alfred can see the shifting nervousness in his expression, the vulnerability in his dark eyes. Will’s had to work up his courage to ask about this; evidently, it’s really important to him. 

Edward hesitates; Alfred knows his boyfriend well enough to take one look at his furrowed brow and know exactly what internal dilemma he’s struggling with. On the one hand, Edward finds it near impossible to refuse anybody when they ask him for help. But on the other hand, Will’s request would presumably involve Edward having to spend extended time with him - and Edward really doesn’t enjoy spending time with Will Peel. 

“I…” Edward sighs. “Yeah, sure. I can try to help you find a present, Will. No problem.” 

“Amazing!” Will replies, his expression clearing a little as he grins at Edward. “You and I are gonna have a great time together, Drums - finally a chance to get to know each other a little better, eh?” 

Edward grimaces a little at this, at which point Alfred feels the urge to jump in and rescue his boyfriend. 

“I’ll come along too, if that’s okay,” he says quickly. “I’m more than happy to help!”

“I’ll come too,” James adds. 

Alfred can practically feel Edward’s relief as the tension visibly leaves his shoulders. He really didn’t want to be left alone with Will, apparently. 

“Great! The more the merrier!” Will answers cheerfully, standing up from his chair. “And you’re right, Jamie,” he says, turning to his boyfriend and pinching his ass gently, “we should probably get a move on.” He turns back to Edward. “Is tomorrow morning okay? We could meet outside Fords at about eleven?” 

“Sure, sounds great, if that’s fine for everyone else,” Edward responds, evidently doing his best to inject some enthusiasm into his voice. 

“Works for me,” Alfred says with a shrug. 

“Fabulous,” says Will brightly, “what fun we’ll have! See you tomorrow, then - can’t wait!” 

Edward makes a non-committal noise and darts a slightly panicked glance at Alfred. As Will and James leave, James looks back and shares a brief, conspiratorial look with Alfred. 

No doubt about it, Will and Edward are definitely going to require supervision. 

Okay, Alfred thinks grimly to himself the next day - so this outing might not have been the best idea in the world. 

He doesn’t really know what Will’s problem is - he’s the one who had asked Edward to come and help him in the first place. But now, after Edward has agreed and gone out of his way to help him shop, Will seems for some reason to be utterly determined to needle and tease Edward until he reaches the limits of his patience. And Edward doesn’t have a whole lot of patience to spare for Will to begin with. 

The four of them had started off in a clothes shop, browsing through various Christmas jumpers that Edward thought Robert might like. But, judging by the comments Will had made, he hadn’t been too impressed by that idea. 

“Um, Drums, no offence intended,” Will had sniggered, as Edward had pulled out a bright red Christmas jumper that was somehow almost as ridiculous as his own, with a hopeful expression on his face. “But I’m not entirely convinced that you’re the best person to be giving me advice on good Christmas jumpers, given the absolute monstrosity you were wearing in the cafe yesterday. I mean....do you not know what you look like? Did Alfred never teach you what a mirror is?” 

Alfred had had to fight to keep a straight face. 

“Oh come on, Will, it wasn’t that bad,” he’d interjected, trying to keep the peace. 

“Oh please, Paget, you told me yourself that you’d had to have words with him about it,” Will had scoffed. 

“Well...yeah,” Alfred had admitted reluctantly. 

Edward had put the jumper back on the shelf, the muscle in his jaw tensing, his expression sour. 

“Okay, fine, no Christmas jumper,” he’d said brusquely. “Let’s just go look somewhere else then, shall we?” 

Will had been no less difficult when they’d gone to look at ties, wrinkling his nose and critiquing every tie that Edward had suggested. 

Now here they are in the local bookshop, and Alfred is feeling increasingly anxious. Edward really is doing his best to try and help, despite himself, but Will is still pushing him, despite James and Alfred’s repeated attempts to make him back off. 

“How about this book?” Edward suggests, pulling one off the shelf in the politics section. “Brexit: Where Did Britain Go Wrong?” 

Will grimaces. “God, I think I’d rather put an Australian redback spider in my mouth than read that book. Hell, I’d rather go on a date with Pippa Elton. ” 

“Yes, well, as you might recall, Will, we’re not actually looking for a present for you , we’re looking for a present for your dad,” Edward says irritably, placing the offending book back on the shelf. Alfred exchanges an uneasy look with James, as Edward moves over to the history section and picks up another book. 

“Look, this one’s about the politics of the 1840s,” he announces, scanning the blurb. “Oh, it even specifically focuses on the repeal of the Corn Laws and its aftermath in 1846! Robert’s fascinated by that period!”

Will sniggers. 

“Dad’s not really that tedious, that he’d actually willingly read something like that, is he? Well, actually, yeah, come to think of it, I guess he is. And you sound like you’d actually want to borrow that crap after I give it to him...god, it’s no wonder you and my father get along like a house on fire, Drums!” He turns to Alfred. “Does he read this kind of thing to you as a bedtime story?”

“Will, stop,” Alfred warns quietly, glancing at his boyfriend, who is very clearly not amused. Will turns back to Edward. 

“My goodness, Drums, you are looking tense,” he says cheerfully. “Look at that jaw!  Has Alfred not been keeping you busy enough? Or is it just that you’re struggling to keep up with him, eh?” 

With a shit-eating grin, Will winks at him - and at that moment, Edward finally snaps. 

“Okay, you know what, Will?” he says furiously, slamming the book down on the nearest table so that another book falls to the floor. “Fuck you. You can look for your dad’s present by yourself. I’m done.”

“Edward!” Alfred protests, his tone coming out a little more scandalised than he had intended; but Edward acts as though he heard nothing, storming out of the bookshop before Alfred can react, slamming the door behind him. 

Immediately, Alfred turns on Will, feeling a potent combination of anger and anxiety rising in his chest. 

“What. The fuck. Was that?” he demands, narrowing his eyes in a death glare. 

“I concur,” James adds, turning to his boyfriend with his arms folded, looking like a sternly disappointed teacher. “What did you think you were doing, Will?”

“What do you mean?” Will asks, looking rather taken aback at Edward’s hasty exit. 

“Will, don’t try to bullshit us,” Alfred snaps. “You’ve spent the last two hours pointlessly needling my boyfriend and taking the piss out of him! You just kept going and going, no matter how many times we tried to tell you to back off! Is it any wonder he’d had enough?!” 

All of Will’s bravado seems suddenly to melt away. He looks down, scuffing his foot against the floor, awkwardly sheepish in the face of their anger. 

“Yeah, I guess I was being kind of a dick, wasn’t I?” he admits, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. 

“Just ‘kind of’?” Alfred scoffs. 

“I didn’t realise I was annoying Drums that much,” he responds, with a nervous half laugh. 

“Yeah, well, you were,” Alfred answers, his worry about Edward making him much blunter than usual. “And now I’ve got to try and do some damage control.”

He takes his phone out of his pocket, quickly tapping the speed dial he’s saved for his boyfriend. Edward picks up after only three rings. 

“Alf?” he says. He sounds exhausted. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, doing his best to sound soothing. “Are you okay?” 

He can picture Edward shrugging and grimacing. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he mutters. “Or...I will be soon, at least. I just...I need a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Alfred says reassuringly, glaring at Will in front of him, who shifts uncomfortably. “Where are you?” 

Edward sighs. 

“I’m sitting in The Red Lion with a pint,” he responds, naming the village pub. “I just needed to cool off a bit. Well. You already knew that part, I guess.” 

He already sounds a little ashamed of his outburst. 

“That’s totally fair,” Alfred assures him, anxious for his boyfriend to know that he’s not blaming him for reacting to Will’s goading. “I’ll come find you, okay?”

Edward sighs again, though he sounds a little more relaxed this time. 

“Yeah, okay. See you soon.” 

“I love you,” Alfred reminds him gently. 

“I love you too,” Edward responds immediately. Alfred can practically hear his soft smile.

He hangs up, feeling a little calmer. 

“Where is he?” Will asks tentatively. Alfred scowls at him. 

“He’s in The Red Lion ,” he answers. 

Will nods. 

“That’s the little pub down the end of the street, right? We passed it on the way here?” 

Alfred frowns suspiciously.

“Yeah - why do you care?” he asks, still not feeling much in the mood to be charitable with his friend. 

“Right - I’m gonna go talk to Drums,” Will says decisively, pulling his coat on.

“ What?” Alfred and James ask incredulously and simultaneously. 

‘I said, I’m going to go and talk to him,” Will repeats slowly and clearly. 

“Don’t be stupid, Will, he’s gone to take shelter in the pub because of you!” Alfred says angrily. “You’re the one who upset him in the first place, for fuck’s sake!” 

“I’m aware of that, Alfred,” Will counters. “That’s why I’m going to go and apologise.” 

“Will, I’m really not sure that’s the best idea right now…” James says hesitantly. 

“It’s not,” Alfred agrees bluntly. “I just told him that I was going to come and find him, Will. I didn’t tell him I was going to be showing up with you -” 

“I never said you were coming with me, Paget,” Will says. “It’s not an open invitation. I think Drums and I are actually long overdue for a chat. A one-on-one chat, that is.” 

Alfred stares at him, trying to work out what he’s playing at, if he just wants the opportunity to taunt Edward some more. But he still looks genuinely ashamed of himself, his expression much more earnest than usual. 

“I...I don’t know, Will…” he says tentatively. 

“I’ll get him back to you in one piece, I promise,” Will says. He turns and presses a kiss to James’s cheek. “I love you. I’ll fix this, I swear.” 

Before either James or Alfred can say anything else, Will has darted out of the bookshop, the bell above the door tinkling as it closes behind him. 

Alfred exchanges an uneasy look with James. 

“Why do I not feel reassured?” Alfred asks. 

James sighs. 

“Hi again, Drums,” says a tentative voice above Edward’s head. An unfortunately familiar voice. 

He looks up, instinctively clutching his beer glass closer to him, though it’s pretty much empty by this point. Even though he already knew full well who was speaking to him, he feels another hot surge of anger at the sight of Will Peel standing there, offering him an awkward smile. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Will?” he asks bitterly. He knows he’s being rude, but at this point, considering the way Will had been behaving all afternoon, he really doesn’t care. “I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend right now. I really don’t need to see you.”

“And yet, here I am!” Will replies, with an awkward attempt at a joking tone. Edward just glares at him, and Will sighs, the smile dropping away from his face, leaving his expression sheepish. “Look, I told Alfred that I needed to speak to you alone. I came to apologise.”

Edward raises one eyebrow. 

“Do you even know how ?” 

“Come on, hear me out!” Will protests. 

Edward just glares at him stubbornly.

“At least let me buy you another round?” he asks, nodding towards Edward’s empty pint glass. 

Edward sighs. 

“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “One round.” 

Will grins, picking up the pint glass.

“Be right back,” he says, before ducking over to the bar. 

Edward sighs again, rubbing a weary hand over his forehead as he watches Will ordering. Why did he agree to this, again? And why did Alfred let Will come in his stead? He’s a little hurt that Alfred would agree to leave Edward alone with him after all the crap that Will’s been putting him through this afternoon, if he’s honest. 

Will returns after only a few minutes, tentatively passing him a new pint. 

“Thanks,” Edward mutters grudgingly, as Will slides into the booth opposite him with his own glass, both of them tucked away in a relatively quiet corner of the pub. 

Will looks down at the table for a moment, chewing on his lip nervously, as though he’s trying to think how to phrase what he wants to say. Edward’s never seen him looking so uncertain. 

“Look, I really am sorry, you know,” he says eventually, looking up at Edward. “I shouldn’t have been antagonising you like that. I guess I got carried away. I was being a dick.” 

“Well...yeah, you were,” Edward answers, a little taken aback that he’s admitting it. “Even though I was trying to help you. Even though you were literally the one who asked me for help in the first place. ”

“I know,” Will answers, grimacing a little. “I’m sorry.” 

Edward shakes his head, staring at him.

“I don’t understand you,” he says bluntly. “I mean, let’s be honest, we’ve never really liked each other -”

“What are you talking about, Drums? I adore you,” Will interjects sarcastically. Edward glares at him, and Will winces a little. “Sorry. Being an asshole again. Force of habit.” 

“But that’s precisely my point,” Edward responds. He sighs. 

“I used to be extremely jealous of you, you know, back when I thought Alfred had a thing for you. Only don’t tell Alf that,” he adds quickly. “He loves being proved right. I’d never hear the end of it.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Will answers, the ghost of a grin flitting across his face. 

“But I guess I used to assume that you were being a dick to me for the same reason,” Edward continues. “I thought that you had a thing for Alf too, so I assumed you probably saw me as a threat, even though I didn’t even believe Alf had feelings for me at the time. But obviously I know now that you’re in love with James - you don’t feel that way about Alf, and you never did.”

“Nope - he’s all yours,” Will says with another awkward grin. 

“But then, that’s what I don’t understand!” Edward exclaims. “Why are you still being a dick? Why do you always feel the need to antagonise me? I mean, I was trying to help you!”

“I know you were,” Will mutters. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably, looking down at the table as though trying to avoid Edward’s eyes. “The truth is, Drums…” he sighs. “I guess I’ve kind of got a bit of an inferiority complex going on where you’re concerned.” 

Edward blinks. That certainly wasn’t what he’d expected. 

“Wait, what?” he asks, stunned. 

Will shrugs, looking up at him again.

“It’s just....you always seem to have everything together. Apart from your fashion sense, that is,” he adds, seemingly unable to resist the temptation for one more jab. Edward grimaces at him. “No, but seriously,” Will continues, “you know what you’re doing all the time, you’re kind and practical, you seem to have learnt to be comfortable with showing your emotions, which is basically witchcraft as far as I’m concerned, and everyone seems to adore you. Even my dad. Especially my dad.” 

“Oh,” Edward says quietly, suddenly seeing where this is going. 

“To be honest, I’ve never really felt comfortable with my father,” Will says, with a shrug and a hollow little laugh. Edward has never seen him looking as vulnerable as he does now. “I think I’ve always wanted his approval, deep down, but I...I never really knew how to get it. Not without changing myself to be someone that I’m not, that is. So I gave up, really. Years ago. Pretended that I didn’t give a shit what my dad thought of me. It was easier that way. But you , Drummond…” he looks at Edward with a trace of bitterness in his eyes. “ You have his approval, without even particularly looking for it, without even trying, as far as I can tell. My father adores you. Probably wishes you were his son rather than me....

Will takes a deep, steadying breath. 

“I’ve been trying to start a fresh slate with Dad, since I came clean about dating Jamie,” he explains. “So I wanted to show him that I was making more of an effort, by giving him a Christmas gift that he would really appreciate. But the problem is that I don’t really understand my dad, and I have no clue how to shop for him; I froze up because I was overthinking it so much and I kept on putting it off. Eventually Jamie encouraged me to ask you for help, because you’re close to Dad and you know him so well. I needed your help, but I was embarrassed about it and it kind of upset me that I had to ask for help with my own dad, that getting his approval seems to come so naturally and easily for you. So I guess I reverted to the old trusty coping mechanism of covering up my insecurities by being an obnoxious asshole. I keep taking my own issues out on you, Drums, and it really isn’t fair of me, I know that. I should probably start going to therapy again. But I really am sorry for the way I behaved today, and I really am grateful for your help. I hope you can believe that.” 

Edward stares at him, his anger and irritation fading away. He would never in a thousand years have expected Will Peel to be so honest and open with him. 

“I do believe you,” he says after a moment. “And I accept your apology, Will.” 

Will breathes a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing a little. 

“But I also think you’re wrong,” Edward continues.

Will frowns.

“What do you mean?” 

“Your dad would not rather have me as a son,” he says, gently but certainly, looking straight at Will so he’s forced to meet his eyes. “Seriously. Take it from somebody who tried and tried to please their father for years before giving up on him. I realised eventually that I was never going to be the son my father wanted - he wanted me to be straight as a rod and completely lacking in empathy, for starters, like him.”

Will stares at him in shock, as though it had never occurred to him that Edward’s life hadn’t always been perfect and full of adoration from everyone around him.

“Eventually I realised that was his problem, not mine,” Edward continues, smiling a little at the look on Will’s face. “My sister and I left and Alfred’s family took us under their wing. They became our new family. And of course, your dad has always been really kind to me,” he adds, inclining his head in Will’s direction. 

Will’s mouth twists into a slight grimace at this, and Edward hurries to press his point, in case Will thinks he’s trying to taunt him.

“But the point is that your dad is nothing like my dad,” he says gently. “I mean, Robert was a bit thrown when you told him you were dating James, yeah. But he wasn’t angry - as I recall, he was desperately trying to get through to you when you went to London, trying to apologise for making you feel like you had to hide, right?” 

“Well...yeah,” Will admits. 

“Whereas my dad was furious and threatened to throw me out of the house when he discovered that I was into boys,” Edward points out. “Charlotte and I left of our own accord before he could, but...Look, this isn’t a ‘who’s-had-it-worse’ thing, or anything like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think your dad dislikes you at all, Will. I mean sure, maybe the two of you have never understood each other all that well. But I really think he loves you. And I know you haven’t intentionally been shutting each other out, or anything, but...I genuinely think Robert wants to connect with you and be close to you. He just needs you to give him a chance, that’s all. Maybe you could try to spend a little extra time with him, while you and James are back in Highbury for Christmas?”

Will swallows, as though he’s trying to pull himself together a little. 

“Well, look at you go, Drums,” he says, offering Edward a grin. “Alfred definitely bagged himself a smart one, eh?” 

Edward laughs. 

“That’s what I like to tell him,” he responds, grinning back at Will. 

It feels strange to be on friendly terms with him, or friendly-ish, at least. But it’s nice. 

“You’re right. I should make an effort to spend a bit more time with Dad,” Will says with a sigh. “Actually, he and Emma invited me over for dinner this evening. I was going to just skip out with Jamie because I felt awkward about it, but on second thought…” 

He pauses, offering Edward another nervous grin. 

“D’you want to come and have dinner at my dad’s place? Just as backup, I mean. Moral support.” 

Edward hesitates. He’s meant to be having takeaway with Alfred and Florence tonight, while they discuss the final organisation details for the Christmas party tomorrow. But he supposes he can hang out with his boyfriend and their friend any night and, characteristically, Alfred is all over every last detail of the party already - or at least, he thinks he is, Edward amends, smiling to himself. It seems like Will needs his help more than Alfred does at the moment.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Hang on, let me just text Alf to let him know I’ll be home late…” 

He takes his phone out of his pocket and types out a quick text to Alfred, grinning a little as he pictures the expression on his boyfriend’s face when he learns that Edward is going to be spending the evening voluntarily hanging out with Will Peel. 

“Okay, done,” he announces, as he presses send. “Now, are we going to go back and actually find a Christmas present for your dad?”

“Oh...right, yeah,” Will responds, with a sheepish grin. 

They both stand up, pushing their chairs in.

“I apologise for swearing at you earlier,” Edward says. “And for storming out.” He hopes he sounds more dignified than he feels. “But could you please try to be less of a dick this time?” 

Will gives him another awkward grin.

“I’ll try my best.” 

“You want the last spring roll, Flo?” Alfred asks, proffering the box.

Florence grins at him. 

“You usually make Edward fight you for it,” she responds. “I’ve seen you two wrestling over them!”

Alfred laughs.

“Yeah, well, it’s nearly Christmas, and I’m feeling generous,” he answers with a shrug. 

No need to tell her that he and Edward only ever bother fighting over the last bit of food because it makes them both extremely turned on. That’s probably something that would fall under the category of ‘too much information.’ Granted, Florence is absolutely smitten with her girlfriend and she’s long since over Edward, but still. There are some things she just doesn’t really need to know. 

Alfred is still bemused by the fact that Edward apparently not only accepted Will’s apology, but also willingly volunteered to spend the evening with him. When Edward had texted him to let him know, Alfred had actually called to check on him, just to make sure Will hadn’t taken his phone for a prank or something. 

He has no clue what Will had said to Edward, but it must have been pretty significant if his boyfriend was now willingly spending time with the man who had been needling and antagonising him all afternoon. Whatever Will and Edward had discussed, though, Alfred is glad of it - he never thought he’d see the day when those two were being not just civil, but actually friendly. 

And yeah, he misses Edward a bit right now - but at the same time, it’s nice to get a bit of one on one time with Florence. They barely ever get to hang out just the two of them any more, given that Alfred is so frequently occupied with Edward, and Florence with Mina. 

“More wine?” Alfred asks, proffering the bottle of white. 

“Thanks,” Florence says, passing her glass to Alfred. 

He watches her drink, looking suddenly as though she’s miles away. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, grinning slightly. 

Florence lowers the glass slowly, looking at Alfred as though she’s only just remembered that he’s there. 

“I was just thinking…” she says uncertainly. “Alfred, could you maybe give me a bit of advice?”

He looks bemusedly at her over the rim of his own glass. 

“Um...are you sure, Flo?” he asks. “You know I’ve kind of been trying to wean myself off the whole ‘advice’ thing. I mean, obviously I want to help you, I just don’t want to say the wrong thing…” 

“I know, I’d just appreciate a second opinion, that’s all,” Florence responds reassuringly. 

“It’s about Mina.”

“Mina?” Alfred repeats, taken aback and a little alarmed. “What about her? Are you guys -”

“Well, it’s not exactly about Mina, I guess,” Florence amends. “Well, only indirectly. It’s more about...my dad, actually.” 

“What?” Alfred asks blankly, frowning. “Your dad? I thought he’s back in Scotland? I thought you weren’t even in contact with him any more?” 

“He is,” Florence replies, “and I wasn’t, not until recently. He called me out of the blue the other day. He was quite uncharacteristically friendly, actually.” 

“Oh,” Alfred answers, not quite sure what the right response is here. “And, um...what did he want? Did he just want to catch up, or…?”

“Well, he said that because it’s coming up for Christmas and I haven’t been home in ages, he wanted me to come back to Scotland and visit the family over Christmas.”

“Okay…” Alfred says slowly, still wondering what this has to do with Mina. 

Florence sighs, her shoulders slumping. As she continues speaking, her hands start to twist together anxiously. 

“He said I’d be able to stay over in the spare room, and that I was welcome to bring my new boyfriend if I had one. And I told him I am in a relationship, but with a girlfriend, not a boyfriend. And…” she sighs again. “And that’s when the conversation started going downhill really quickly.” 

“What do you mean?” Alfred asks. 

He hates the way she seems to have shrunk into herself, looking once again like the timid, nervous girl she’d been when she’d first arrived in Highbury over a year ago. 

“He was like ‘what do you mean, you’ve got a girlfriend ?’ He seemed really angry. Disgusted, I guess.” She swallows, avoiding Alfred’s eyes. “He said I could come home for Christmas - but only as long as I didn’t bring my girlfriend with me. He told me that Mina wasn’t welcome.” 

“He what ?” Alfred asks furiously.

“Yeah,” Florence sighs. 

“So what did you say?” he asks. 

She shrugs awkwardly.

“Nothing, yet,” she admits. “He said to me ‘you have a think about your priorities’ and then hung up. And now I’m not sure what to do.” 

Alfred stares at her.

“I mean, there’s no way I’m breaking up with Mina,” Florence says hastily. “I love her. But I’m not sure how to tell her about all this, because I’m pretty sure it would upset her. And I’m not sure what to do about my dad either. I mean, that’s the first time he’s contacted me in ages, and it would be nice to see the other people in my family, but...well, he was being an asshole about Mina and about the fact that I’m dating a woman. So I’m not really sure what I should say to him. I mean, I know what I want to say to him, but - ”

“If you know what you want to say to him, then why are you coming to me for advice?” Alfred asks.

“Well, I…” Florence hesitates. “What I want to say to him isn’t exactly going to make him any less angry. It’s, um, not the friendliest. I don’t think it’s the best idea for solving the conflict. Besides, I’m not entirely sure I’m brave enough to say it to him, and it might just…” 

“Flo, look at me,” Alfred says firmly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder before she can disappear into an anxiety spiral, like Edward tends to when he thinks about his family. She glances up at him. “Firstly, you need to give yourself more credit,” he says. “You are brave enough to stand up to your dad. And secondly, the only advice I’m going to give you is to trust your own instinct.” 

“Trust my own instinct?” Florence repeats, frowning slightly.

“Yeah,” Alfred confirms, grinning a little. “I think you already know what you want to say to him, what you should say to him. And yeah, I’ve been trying to be cautious about giving advice recently, but in this instance I really don’t think you need my advice, or anyone else’s. I think you already know what the right thing to do is - you’re just used to asking for other people’s permission, and you’re not used to trusting yourself.” 

Florence stares at him for a moment, before grinning sheepishly.

“Thank you, Alfred,” she says. “I think you might be right. In fact…” she takes a deep breath. “Can I go into the other room for a minute, please? I need to make a call.”

“Absolutely,” Alfred responds immediately, grinning back at her. “You can go to the spare room - take as long as you need.” 

“Thanks,” she says with a smile. Florence picks up her phone from the coffee table, takes another deep breath, and walks slowly towards the spare room that was once Edward’s bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. 

Alfred gets up to pick up the takeaway boxes scattered around the coffee table and sets about cleaning up, trying to keep himself occupied, keep himself from worrying about Florence and what she might be saying to her dad.

The thought of her father being so nasty about her relationship with Mina makes his blood boil. He’s a little surprised that Florence even felt she had to come to him for advice - but then, he forgets sometimes how shaky her confidence in herself can be. That’s probably her father’s fault as well, he thinks to himself, feeling another surge of anger as he stacks the dishwasher. 

It’s really difficult to resist the temptation to go over to the spare room and check if she wants any help, if she wants him to speak to her father on her behalf. It’s difficult to push away the worry that he’d got the wrong end of the stick somehow, that Florence isn’t going to say what he thinks she’s going to say. 

But no, he reminds himself. This isn’t up to him. And Florence is perfectly capable of doing this all by herself. 

Alfred sighs, pressing play on the Christmas episode of his favourite podcast to distract himself while he washes up. 

But to his surprise, Florence emerges from the spare room only a few minutes later, phone in hand. Alfred looks at her anxiously, wondering if he needs to comfort her, but to his relief he sees that she’s beaming. 

“Did it go okay?” he asks.

“Well, not so much for Dad, I guess,” she responds happily. “But yeah, it definitely went okay as far as I’m concerned!”

Alfred can’t help but grin at the exhilarated look on her face. 

“I’m glad,” he says. “Am I allowed to ask what you said to him?” 

“Of course you are,” she answers, grinning wider. “I made it clear that if I’m not allowed to go back to Scotland for Christmas with Mina, then I’m not going back at all. And,” she adds, looking rather surprised and delighted at her own daring, “I also told him, in no uncertain terms, that if he thinks I’m going to dump my girlfriend just to please him, then he can get fucked.” 

Alfred grins at her delightedly.

“ Florence Kerr !” he says, impressed. 

“What?” she asks, looking a little nervous again. “Do you think I went too far?” 

“What? No, silly!” he says, shaking his head. He strides forwards to give her a hug. “I’m just - I’m just so proud of you! See, I told you you don’t need my advice!”

“Huh. I guess maybe you were right,” Florence replies, grinning as she hugs him back.

“Don’t let Edward hear you saying that,” Alfred jokes, just as the front door opens to reveal Edward himself, looking rather exhausted. 

“Don’t let me hear Flo saying what?” he asks, looking curious at the sight of them hugging. 

“Oh, speak of the angel,” Alfred says with a grin, disentangling himself from Florence so that he can go and greet his boyfriend with a kiss. “Flo was just telling me that I was right, so I was saying she shouldn’t let you hear that, or I’d never hear the end of it.” 

“Uh oh,” Edward responds teasingly. “What were you right about this time?”

Alfred hesitates and turns to Florence, unsure if this is something he’s allowed to share with Edward. Florence checks her watch and smiles. 

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” she replies. “And unfortunately I should probably get going, I’m meant to be meeting Mina. But you’re more than welcome to fill him in on the essentials, Alfred.”

“You sure?” Alfred asks, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Positive,” she answers, smiling at him as she puts her coat on and picks up her bag. She still seems to be practically bouncing with excitement, her movements lighter, as though a burden has been lifted off her shoulders. “Anyway, I’m sorry, Edward, but I’d better run. I’ll just say a quick hello/goodbye…” She stands up on her tiptoes to give Edward a brief hug. “I’ll see you both at the Christmas party tomorrow - it’s here, right?”

“Yep,” Alfred answers. “And Flo -” she turns back to face him, her hand on the doorknob - “ super proud of you.” 

Florence beams again, before waving at the two of them and practically skipping out of the apartment. 

“Well, she certainly looks happy,” Edward comments with a small grin. “Why are you proud of her? What for?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” Alfred replies, “you look exhausted.” 

“I guess I am, a bit,” Edward answers.

“No wonder, with the day you’ve had!” Alfred says sympathetically. “Tea?” 

“Tea would be wonderful, thank you,” Edward answers with a small sigh, flopping down on the sofa. 

“Coming right up!” he replies, switching the kettle on and opening the cupboard to dig around for Edward’s favourite brew. 

A few minutes later, Alfred carefully carries a mug and a plate of biscuits over to his boyfriend, who is now sitting with his long limbs splayed out carelessly, his head tilted back against the sofa cushion behind him.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” Edward says, taking the mug from Alfred with a grateful smile. 

“So what the hell was that all about with Will?” Alfred asks. “You agreed to spend the rest of the day with him? I hope he bloody well apologised first!”

“He did, don’t worry,” Edward reassures him, taking a careful sip of his tea. 

“Did he say why he was being such a dick to you?” 

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story, but apparently he’s been really nervous about trying to connect with Robert,” Edward replies. “To cut a long story short, he was upset and embarrassed about having to ask me for help with Robert’s present, because he was secretly worried that his dad preferred me - so he lashed out and started being a sarcastic asshole to make it seem like he didn’t care.”

“Ah,” Alfred says, grimacing slightly. He had suspected Will’s issue might be something along those lines. “Classic Will Peel defence move, then.”

“Yep, pretty much,” Edward answers, shrugging as he takes another sip of tea. “Anyway, I told him I was pretty sure he was wrong about his dad not liking him, and that I thought Robert still wanted to connect with him, if Will just gave him the chance. So then he asked me to come with him to his dad’s place for dinner, as moral support. But we went back to find Robert a present first.” 

“Wow,” Alfred says, trying to take it all in. It’s hard to imagine Will asking anyone for moral support, let alone Edward. “And what did you end up getting for Robert in the end, then?” 

“I think we ended up deciding on the book about the 1840s, actually.”

“What, the one that Will was bitching about?” Alfred laughs.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Edward replies, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip of tea. 

“So is Will okay?”

“Yeah. I think so,” Edward answers, looking thoughtful. “Still a bit weird around his dad, I think, but he’s getting there. He’s definitely making an effort.”

“Well, that’s good at least,” Alfred muses.

“Yep.” Edward takes another sip of tea, before turning back to his boyfriend, a curious grin on his face.

“So? Are you going to tell me why you’re proud of Flo?”

“Oh, right…”

He quickly recounts the main parts of the story. Edward looks rather impressed when he’s done.

“I’m kind of surprised Flo even thought she needed advice - it seems like a pretty open-and-shut-case,” he remarks. 

“Well, she’s not very good at trusting herself and her judgement, as you might have noticed,” Alfred answers. Edward grimaces slightly, acknowledging the truth of the statement. “But in the end, she realised she didn’t need my advice anyway.”

“And did she really tell her dad that he could get fucked?” Edward asks, a gleam of amusement in his dark eyes.

“Apparently,” Alfred replies. “In precisely those words, as I understand it.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t interfere, or tell her what to say? Not at all?” 

“Not at all!” Alfred confirms indignantly. “I literally told her she didn’t need my advice, and she should trust her own instinct!”

“Okay, I was just checking,” Edward reassures him, grinning. “I’m proud, too. Of Flo, but of you, too.” 

“What? Why? What did I do?” 

“Well, you let her come to her own decision without trying to steer her - you would never have done that a year ago!”

“Huh. I guess not,” Alfred muses. 

Edward puts his mug down on the table, pulling Alfred close to his chest, where Alfred happily curls up against him. 

“So? Is that it?” Edward asks, resting his chin on top of Alfred’s head. “We won’t have to hear any more about Flo’s stupid dad?” 

“I mean...I’m considering sneaking a look at his number in her contacts list, just so I can text him and tell him precisely where to get off, in my own words. In case he didn’t get the message,” Alfred replies, grinning.

“Alf!”

“I’m kidding! Mostly....” 

Edward looks down at him, raising an eyebrow wordlessly. 

“Whatever, I’ll make sure to put a polite ‘Merry Christmas’ at the end. It will be fine.” 

Sighing and rolling his eyes affectionately, Edward presses a kiss to the top of Alfred’s head. Alfred can feel his boyfriend grinning against his hair. 

Christmas Eve

“Edward…”

“Hmm?” Edward looks up anxiously, halfway through sipping from his champagne glass. 

“There’s no need to look so nervous,” Alfred says with a grin, feeling his heart swelling at the adorable expression on his boyfriend’s face. “I was just going to tell you that your collar is inside out. Again.” 

“Oh. Right,” Edward replies, without actually making any move to fix it. 

So, with a small sigh, as though he hasn’t been itching to do it anyway, Alfred reaches up to fix Edward’s collar, standing up on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to the back of his neck while he’s at it. Predictably, Edward blushes at the display of affection, however subtle, and Alfred can’t help but grin as he steps back again.

He glances around their living room, cast in the soft glow of fairy lights, watching their friends and family milling about chatting to each other, laughing, eating and drinking, placing presents around the main Christmas tree. 

They have two in their apartment; Alfred firmly believes that Christmas trees are supposed to be understated and elegantly decorated in a subtle colour scheme, while Edward holds that Christmas trees are meant to be joyful and vivid, the more colourful and filled with naff ornaments and baubles, the better. It’s the same philosophy he applies to his Christmas jumpers, Alfred supposes. So, as a compromise, they’ve ended up with two, which they’ve dubbed ‘classy tree’ and ‘tacky tree.’ Alfred had managed to persuade Edward that the classy tree should be the one front and centre during their party while they have guests round, at least. 

“I think we did a pretty good job,” Alfred remarks to Edward with a grin.

“You mean you did a pretty good job,” Edward corrects him. “You’re the one who organised everything. I just strung up the fairy lights in all the places you can’t reach.” 

Alfred laughs.

“Okay, yeah, it was mostly me,” he agrees. 

Looking around the room, he can’t help but smile at the sight of Florence and Mina snuggled up together on the sofa, Mina with her head resting against Florence’s shoulder, Florence pressing a kiss to the top of her girlfriend’s head. And to think, this time last year, Alfred had actually been trying to set Florence up with Pippa Elton , of all people. Thankfully, he and Edward seem to have ‘accidentally’ forgotten to invite Pippa and her husband this time around. 

“It’s weird to think how much has changed since this time last year, isn’t it?” he asks quietly, brushing his fingers gently against Edward’s. 

Edward looks sideways at him with a small smile.

“Good weird, though - right?” he murmurs, curling his fingers around Alfred’s. 

Alfred smiles back at him, revelling in this peaceful moment they’ve managed to steal in the corner, however briefly it lasts. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Definitely good weird.” 

True to form, Will appears out of nowhere to ruin their moment, already looking like he’s more than a few champagnes in. James is hovering at his shoulder, giving Alfred a sheepishly apologetic glance - presumably because of his failure to keep his boyfriend in hand. 

“I’m gonna give my dad his present now,” he announces, far more loudly than is necessary, given how close he’s standing.

“That’s a great idea, Will,” Alfred responds, trying and failing to keep a straight face. 

“I know. I’m excited to give it to him,” Will answers. He pauses for a moment, standing stock still, scanning the people in his eye line. 

“Wait, never mind, I can’t give it to him,” he says, pouting a little. “I can’t see him anywhere. I think he already left the party. Probably trying to get away from me.”

“He’s right over there, Will,” Edward corrects him, pointing to the opposite corner of the room. “See? He’s talking to Charlotte and Henry.” 

Will cranes his neck around to see.

“Oh, right,” he says, his expression nervous. He hesitates. “Well, he looks pretty busy, eh?” he reasons, shrugging casually as though it’s no big deal. “I can give it to him later, I don’t want him to get annoyed at me for interrupting. Or he might think I’m being weird and sappy, y’know? Maybe I should just give it to him another time…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Will!” Alfred exclaims loudly, making Will jump a little. “James?”

“I’m on it,” James sighs, taking Will firmly by the hand and tugging him in Robert’s direction. 

Alfred sniggers at the alarmed expression on Will’s face as he’s led away, rolling his eyes as he turns back to Edward. 

“I swear, James has the patience of a saint …” 

He frowns slightly, noticing that Edward has picked up a new glass from somewhere, the adorably anxious expression he was wearing earlier back again. 

“Hey, you okay?” he murmurs, squeezing his boyfriend’s free hand gently. 

Edward takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Yeah. I think I might just need a quiet moment away from everyone, that’s all.” 

Alfred feels his stomach sink a little. He knows his boyfriend is much more introverted than he is and tends to get a little overwhelmed at parties sometimes, and of course he respects Edward’s occasional need for space and quiet. It’s just that, even though they live together, there’s nobody else he’d rather be spending his evening with. 

“Oh. Okay,” he says, reluctantly disentangling his hand from Edward’s. “Take as much time as you need, I’ll be just here when you want me -”

But to his surprise, Edward immediately grabs his hand again. When Alfred turns back to him, he sees that Edward is rolling his eyes at him, an affectionate grin on his face despite the fact that he’s still buzzing with nervousness.

“I meant I want a quiet moment with you , Alf,” he clarifies.

“Oh,” Alfred says with a grin, feeling immediately giddy. Now that sounds more like it. 

Unnoticed by the others chatting merrily around the living room, the two of them slip hand in hand into their bedroom, closing the door gently behind them. 

“God, you remember our last Christmas party?” Alfred asks, with a sheepish grin. “I still can’t believe that I genuinely thought Pippa was into Flo. And all the while I had absolutely no clue that she was actually into me…” He wrinkles his nose. “Gross.” 

Edward chuckles quietly. 

“Yeah, well, you’ve never been particularly good at noticing when someone is head over heels for you,” he points out.

Alfred huffs exaggeratedly. 

“Yes yes, I’m an oblivious idiot, we’ve been over this,” he says, poking Edward gently in the chest. Edward catches his hand, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of it. 

“She could never have deserved you, Alf,” he says quietly, bringing Alfred’s hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss onto his knuckle. “Not in a million years.” 

Alfred feels his heart melting in his chest as usual. He smiles softly, remembering how the Christmas party last year had ended. 

“And then you came in here, back when this was just my room, to find me having a meltdown,” he muses. “The way you held me…” 

He pauses, his eyes tracing over Edward’s gorgeous face.

“God, I was so dumb,” he whispers, raising his free hand to cup Edward’s cheek, stroking his thumb softly across his cheekbone. “I still can’t believe it took me so long to realise I was in love with you. I mean, it was obvious, wasn’t it? All along.” 

Edward swallows, still looking nervous for some reason. He inches a little bit closer, closing his eyes and leaning in to rest his forehead against Alfred’s. 

“I love you so much, Alf,” he whispers. “I love you now, and I loved you back then, and I know I’ll love you just as much this time next year, if not more. I genuinely can’t imagine spending my life with anybody else.”

“Really?” Alfred murmurs, grinning, eyes still closed as he leans his forehead against Edward’s, unwilling to break the moment. 

“Really,” Edward affirms. He takes a deep breath. “And in fact, on that note…”

He moves away suddenly, and Alfred whines, having fully expected a kiss. 

“Edward, where are you going?” he protests, opening his eyes - and his heart stops in his chest. 

Edward is on one knee, holding out a ring box that seems to have come out of thin air. His hands trembling slightly, he opens the box to reveal a beautiful little vintage sapphire ring, the precious stones twinkling and catching the glow of the fairy lights that Alfred had insisted on hanging up even in their bedroom. 

“Alfred Paget,” Edward says quietly, “you are the love of my life. You always have been, and you always will be. Will you marry me?” 

For a moment, Alfred just stares at him, his throat thick with emotion. He’s not sure he could speak if he tried.

“Alf?” Edward asks after a moment, his expression taking on a nervous edge again. 

Acting on pure instinct, Alfred kneels down on the floor, wraps his arms around Edward’s neck, and kisses him fiercely, trying to wordlessly communicate all the love that he feels, the love that feels too significant, too powerful, too eternal to be expressed in mere words. 

Finally, they break apart for air, Alfred impatiently brushing tears away from his cheek.

“I’m guessing that was a yes?” Edward jokes, his dark eyes glistening with tears too. 

“Of course I’ll marry you,” Alfred breathes. “I can’t imagine spending my life with anybody else, either. I love you so much.” 

Edward lets out a teary chuckle, sliding the sapphire ring carefully onto Alfred’s finger. 

For a moment they sit quietly together, foreheads resting against each other again. Alfred, for his part, is utterly dazed with happiness, praying that this isn’t just some fabulous dream he’s about to wake up from, wondering how he ever got this lucky. 

“We should probably get back to the others,” he murmurs eventually. “Tell them the good news.” 

“Soon,” Edward murmurs in reply. “This moment belongs to us, only us. I don’t want it to end yet. I just want to keep holding you like this. Just for a bit.” 

Alfred blinks furiously, feeling another wave of emotion threatening to engulf him.

“Fair enough,” he whispers.

Edward takes a deep, shaky breath, as though trying to calm himself down, and looks up at the ceiling.

“I can’t believe you went to the effort of putting mistletoe right above our bed,” he says, with a small grin. “As if we weren’t going to be making out in here anyway.” 

Alfred grins back, leaning in closer, nuzzling his nose gently against his boyfriend’s - no, wait, his fiance’s.

“Again?” Edward teases. “But we literally just -”

“It’s tradition, Edward,” Alfred reminds him. “Can’t break a tradition.” 

Edward rolls his eyes, still grinning.

“No. I guess not.” 

They lean in towards each other, kissing softly and sweetly, Alfred wishing he could somehow make this moment last forever. 

“Merry Christmas, Alf,” Edward murmurs, pressing gentle little butterfly kisses against his mouth. 

“Merry Christmas, Edward,” Alfred whispers against his fiance’s lips.

Yep, he thinks to himself, eyes still closed, not willing to come back down to earth just yet. 

Definitely his favourite Christmas so far.