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Bård lets himself into his brother’s house without knocking. He can hear Vegard already, clattering about in the kitchen and singing along with the Christmas songs on the radio at the top of his voice. Bård smirks and deposits his coat and bag on the chair in the front hall, and goes to find the source of the noise.
Vegard is in the middle of the kitchen, singing into a wooden spoon as passionately as one can when it’s a rendition of Silent Night.
“Josh Groban? Really?” Bård asks, recognizing the voice on the recording.
Vegard jumps, drops the spoon and swears loudly. “When did you come in?”
“Just now. On a scale of one to 4 Stjerners, how drunk are you?”
Vegard raises one eyebrow. “Not at all. I’ve learned my lesson, thanks.” He drops the act, then smiles. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”
It has. After their whirlwind tour of the States to promote the book, they’d agreed that it was probably best if they stayed in their own spaces for awhile. After a week of spending nearly every minute together in a hectic, stressful, not-entirely-pleasant trip, they’d both just wanted to be alone for awhile, just to rest and recover.
Of course, after spending every minute in the company of another person, ‘alone’ quickly became ‘alone’ which quickly became ‘too alone’. So it seemed natural that they would spend Christmas together, at Vegard’s house because it’s bigger and nicer and he’s the better cook and enjoys it besides.
(When he’s not drunk, that is - they’ve all vowed never to talk about that again, and none of them has been able to look at a reindeer steak since).
“You too,” Bård says softly, then claps his hands and changes the subject before Vegard can do something like hug him. “Is the food on?” Perhaps a little unnecessary; the entire house smells delicious.
“Yup,” Vegard nods. “Ribbe. It should be ready soon - Magnus and Calle are coming around six, and they’re bringing dessert. Or they’d better be, at least - shit I hope they haven’t forgotten, maybe I should call them --”
“They won’t forget. Magnus loves to bake.”
“Yeah but they’ve been busy -- they only got home last week--”
“Yeah, who the hell goes to Denmark for a honeymoon anyway?”
Vegard shrugs. “They do, I guess. You’re right, they won’t forget. Everything here is under control, let’s go in the living room.” He hands his little brother a beer and they make their way to the spacious, tastefully appointed room. There are several comfortable chairs around the large, beautifully decorated Christmas tree, but they find themselves sitting next to each other on the large plush couch in front of the empty fireplace.
“Dammit,” Vegard swears. “I meant to have the fire going by now.”
“Forget that,” Bård says. He looks down to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Look, I know we said we weren’t going to get each other anything this year, but...I couldn’t resist.”
“Oh, good,” Vegard sighs in relief. “I couldn’t either.”
“I thought I’d give it to you now, before the others come.”
“Sounds like a plan. Hold on, I’ve just got yours over here...”
Bård gets up and retrieves his package from where he’d hidden it under his coat. He fingers the wide, slim, present with glee. This will be so funny, he can’t wait to see Vegard’s face.
His brother has already regained his seat by the time he gets back. Bård hides the present behind his back.
“Let me go first,” Vegard says.
“No, please, let me.”
“At the same time?” he suggests, and Bård nods, barely able to contain himself. This is going to be so good.
“All right, on the count of three - one, two, three -”
Simultaneously they pull their presents out, with an identical devilish smirk.
That isn’t the only thing that’s identical.
They look at each other. Vegard tears the paper off, Bård following a second later.
“This was supposed to be a lot funnier,” he says, looking at the copy of their book in his hands, the book that Vegard had gotten him.
“I guess this what happens when we try to get each other gag gifts,” Vegard says, looking at the copy of their book in his hands, the book that Bård had gotten him.
“The only way this could be more awkward is if one of us had actually gotten the other something good, and only got this in return.”
“What the hell are we going to do with two copies of our own book?” Vegard wonders out loud.
~ Five minutes later ~
“Ah, this is nice,” Bård says, stretching out like a cat.
“I love a good fire,” Vegard agrees.
“Guess it wasn’t such a bad present after all.”
“Not at all. Who knew children’s books burn so well?”
“I did. God Jul, Vegard.”
“God Jul, Bård.”
He slips his arm around his brother’s shoulders and they sit together in comfortable silence, waiting for their friends.
THE END