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Roman drummed his fingers against his knee, glancing around the airplane terminal anxiously. There was no palm trees outside swaying in the breeze while sweetly whispering his name; there was no man on his arm nor were there small arms of young children wrapped around his legs forcing him to drag his feet in order to carry their weight. The Big Apple was a cruel lover that bore him no children, a one-night stand that cried thick, snowy tears to keep him grounded on Christmas Eve.
The phone that was pressed against his ear was heavy beyond belief, the words leaving his mouth even more so. Like iron on his tongue.
“I won’t be home for Christmas.”
There was a pause on the other line, Virgil having not yet said a word but Roman could still feel the other’s world stop.
He counted the seconds before Virgil released a breath, able to picture his red face due to the lack of oxygen clearly behind his closed eyelids.
“It’s . . . that’s okay, baby, it’s not your fault.”
Roman could hear rustling beyond the immediate voice on the line, distant screams harmonizing with one another from another room. He winced, sure that Virgil had done so in an even more extreme manner seeing as he was in the immediate path of the chaos.
“Sorry, just the boys,” he apologized, the floor creaking beneath his weight as he walked through the living room to the boys’ bedroom down the hall.
Roman shook his head, “Don’t apologize, can I talk to them? Try and straighten them out for you.”
Virgil nodded, putting the phone on speaker and slipping it into his back pocket so he could first settle whatever argument had arose. It took only a moment, one look and then a wave of the phone in front of the twins’ faces, for them to squeal in delight and declare a ceasefire.
“Daddy!” they grinned, reaching for the phone with their little hands and holding it between them. Virgil fell to his knees besides them in order to arbitrate.
“Boys!” Roman replied, melting the sadness from his words in order to remain positive. Once they found out that he wouldn’t be there, Virgil would have to deal with two screaming children and he wanted to make it as easy on his husband as possible. “How have you been? How’s school?”
“We’re on Christmas break!” the older of the two giggled, proud to be correcting the man he was convinced was the smartest in the world.
Roman allowed his pause to be dramatic, “Alexander Kai Lani, are you telling me your father let you guys skip school?”
“No, silly! We don’t have school!” the other interjected, a grin stretched across his lips as he looked up at the father present. Virgil was biting the inside of his cheek, unable to offer anything but a weak smile his youngest’s way. The child seemed oblivious to the far from genuine look and acted as though his father had given him the brightest smile imaginable, his own grin widening.
“Stop it, Auggie, I was telling him!”
“Well I told him first!”
“Boys!” Virgil sighed, looking between the two sets of hazel eyes that mimicked the pair he had fallen in love with years and years ago. Whatever words he had meant to say died on his lips, retreating back down his throat and dispersing in his bloodstream to vanish forever.
“Take it easy on your father, please,” Roman chimed in, ruling with an iron fist when needed. The twins averted their gazes, Virgil reaching over and rustling Alexander’s hair. “You don’t want to get on the Naughty List the day before Christmas, now do you?”
The boys shook their heads, fear present in their eyes. Virgil laughed, the sound sad to his own ears, before he leaned down to kiss the tops of their heads. He took the phone back, holding it and allowing for his sons to snuggle up against him in order to be close to Roman’s voice.
“I just wanted to call to say hi and a quick goodnight, god knows that tomorrow you’ll be too busy with all the toys Santa is bringing you both to talk then,” Roman said, licking his bottom lip as he took another sweep of the terminal. He stood, straightening his suit and keeping his phone pressed to his ear as he dragged his suitcase behind him.
“Whaddya mean?” Auggie asked while giving the phone a confused look. He glanced at his father but Virgil didn’t meet his eye. He couldn’t.
“I got held up in the city, champ,” Roman explained, words regretful and seeming to beg for forgiveness. It wasn’t his fault, he knew that; he couldn’t control the damn weather. But he knew that his boys were hurting, Virgil among them.
“There’s so much snow that it looks like the North Pole here! Remember our ski trip to New Hampshire? Even more snow here now than there was there! It’s not safe for the plane to take off. But I’m okay, I’m safe here. The company knows I can’t leave and are paying for me to have this super nice hotel room.”
“Will Santa know you’re there? Do you have a Christmas tree and a stocking?”
Roman couldn’t help but laugh, stepping out into the cold and watching as his laughter rose into the air in the form of steam and mingled with the snowflakes dancing in the wind. The snow continued to fall hard, catching on the curls atop of his head and his fluttering eyelashes. “There’s a tree here, and hopefully Santa will fill my stocking at home for when I come back so I can have it then.”
August Dante - gloriously named by Virgil, of course - and Alexander nodded at that, defeated looks on their tiny faces, but they were at least glad that their father would be able to have some sort of a Christmas. It warmed Virgil’s heart just as much as it pained him.
“Well we better get you off to bed. That way Christmas comes faster and so does Daddy,” Virgil said, placing the phone on the side table before pulling the twins to their feet.
“I wanna sleep through Christmas!” Alexander nearly cried, heavy tears lodged in the corners of his eyes and threatening to fall.
“Me too! I want Daddy!” August shouted in turn, Roman’s throat bobbing at the sound. He glanced up and down the street before releasing his hold on his suitcase for a moment to paw at his eyes. It was too much. He was used to being away, that’s what success did to a man. But Christmas was Christmas, and his sons, hardly even six years old, could understand that. Christmas was special, and they wanted both of their dads with them to share the occasion.
“Come now,” Virgil sighed, guiding them to their respective beds and helping them up into them. “Say goodnight to Daddy, we’ll see him soon enough.”
“And then we can have a second Christmas!” Roman added, attempting to lessen the blow by adding a consolation.
“We’ll see,” Virgil amended, wrapping up the call as the twins waved to the phone.
They didn’t even ask for a story, satisfied with a kiss and Virgil turning off the lights. He could hear sniffling from the hallway, exposing that his sons were far from happy with their current situation. He couldn’t blame them, wishing he too could sleep through Christmas.
A thousand miles away, Roman, with his phone pocketed, had managed to finally hail a taxi. He had gotten into two before being thrown out, his request earning him curses and middle fingers aimed his way. He had to call the taxi company in order to find a willing man, throwing his suitcase into the backseat before climbing in after it.
The man was an older fellow, surely without a wife or kids waiting for him to return for Christmas. The man looked Roman over, sure he would be dealing with a drug dealer rather than a business man that looked dashing in his suit and as professional as ever. He requested to be paid in advanced anyway.
Roman pulled out countless bills, too many to count, and passed them along. The man nodded, placing them in his glove box for the time being as he cracked his neck. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
In turn, Roman slumped back in his seat and sighed as the yellow chariot sped off into the midst of the storm towards a paradise where three men slept in wait of not Saint Nick, but him.
-
Come Christmas morning, Virgil found that the twins were much less upset than they had been the night before. They were young after all, and the stack of presents encompassing the Christmas tree was much more compelling than acknowledging the void that was their other father still miles and miles away from home.
Roman hadn’t answered Virgil’s FaceTime call so they opened presents without him, the twins happy with their distraction. They brought up Virgil’s presents as well, remembering, every now and again, that Christmas was about more than just them. Virgil thanked them each time but remained curled up on the couch with his stack of presents unopened. Watching his sons’ eyes light up when they opened their presents was surreal and beautiful, but he felt cold without another warm body pressed against his own. A phantom arm was wrapped around his shoulders sending chills down his spine, and he grabbed a blanket in a vain attempt to combat it.
There were only a handful of presents beneath the tree after the boys had their way with it, Virgil avoiding looking at them as he threw out the paper to clear room for the boys to play with their new toys. He didn’t know why he was so affected, he had spent most of his life by Roman’s side or in his arms and would see him again the next day. Roman was not gone from his life forever, but he was still upset beyond words.
But it was Christmas and he wanted nothing more than to enjoy his day with the two boys that made his world spin, so he put on How the Grinch Stole Christmas and allowed himself to enjoy himself, finding himself fiddling with the ring on his fingers as if he were a newly wed.
They had only managed to watch a few minutes of the film before the doorbell rang. Virgil glanced to the grandfather clock hanging above the fireplace, brows furrowing when he realized that it was only seven o’clock. His parents weren’t expected to arrive for Christmas dinner until noon, and his friends certainly would not have gotten up this early in the morning to surprise him.
He pulled himself to his feet and walked through the living room to the front door. It creaked when he pulled it open, surprised when another force pushed it the rest of the way to reveal-
“Roman,” he breathed, eyes wide and mouth agape.
The other grinned in turn, releasing his suitcase and pulling something out of his pocket before holding it out between them. Virgil glanced at it, seeming to be in a trance and without control of his own actions, allowing for Roman to duck beneath the mistletoe and pull him into a breathtaking kiss.
“You really thought I’d leave you alone on Christmas?” he asked after a moment, Virgil releasing a joyous laugh that conveyed his shock but . . . but he had never felt so happy in his entire life.
“But the planes-”
“Still grounded. Took a taxi from New York.”
His eyes, to Roman’s surprise, grew wider. He kissed him again quickly, this time on the corner of his mouth and gave him a lopsided grin before Virgil could protest. “I couldn’t wait to see you, baby. It was paid for, or it will be after I sweet talk Remy into it. I’ll suc-”
“Daddy!” the boys exclaimed in unison, Roman stopping mid-sentence and discarding the mistletoe in favor of dropping onto a knee and opening his arms for his sons. They ran into him and he held them tight, eyes closed as they squeezed him. The embrace was far warmer than anything New York had ever given him.
“God, hey there!” he exclaimed, laughing and kissing their foreheads. He could feel their smiles against his body and when he looked up, Virgil was smiling too.
He picked their sons up, throwing each over one of his shoulders and running into the house. The boys’ laughter echoed throughout the house that seemed much more like a home the moment Roman stepped inside. And Virgil, still breathless and trying to comprehend what the hell his husband had just done, pulled Roman’s suitcase inside and shut the front door. And then he smiled.