Archive of Our Own ^omega

“Cold. So fucking cold.”

He had not prepared himself accordingly for winter to hit and was now paying dearly for it. He had seen the weather dropping, sure, but he hadn’t brought the necessities out with him as he didn’t think he would have been out for so long.

How fucking wrong he had been.

The original plan was to go out early and find a last minute gift for Jack. Get out there before the crowds were awake and mobile and before every little item was snatched up. The big gifts were already wrapped, sure, but that nearly empty stocking on the wall was mocking him.

The stockings had been the bane of his existence for too many years now. It was Jack’s tradition and when Gabe had suggested Christmas at his place Jack had decided the stocking’s needed to become a ‘them’ tradition. Not being able to bear seeing Jack’s upset face for very long, Gabe had given in and agreed to placing the ridiculous things on his fireplace mantle. They had fallen more times than he could count but Jack swore that was just part of the fun. Gabe still didn't understand what was fun about picking something off the floor a hundred times, or what was fun about having to send pictures to Jack when his own inevitably fell and he couldn't pick it up because ’oh God what if Gabe saw in his ridiculously stupidly overfilled stocking’.

The memory forces a wry chuckle from him and he rubs his hands together to get some feeling back into his semi-numb fingers. Two hours he’d been wandering store to store trying to find silly things to stuff in Jack’s stocking. So far he had a bag of candy and some ridiculous tiny plush that Jack had once mentioned was adorable. Grown ass man, wanting a plushy. If Gabe didn't love him so much he would laugh, but he’d do anything to see that dopey smile on his blonde angel’s face.

He quickly crosses off a ‘calendar’ store as a shopping option- because who the fuck honestly got gifts in there? Seriously- and takes a moment to consider the novelty shop next to it. Jack did say stocking stuffers weren’t always serious... Maybe he could find something silly that would remind him of an inside joke?

Feeling suddenly buoyed in his endeavor he jogs inside the quaint store, reveling in the warmth that stings his limbs in the best and worst way.

It’s another two hours before he finds himself hauling purchases into his house. Jack’s bike had been parked outside- something Gabe would scold him for later, it was too cold out to be riding that damned bike- so he was trying to be ultra sneaky. While the items in the bags were small those fucking cashiers had stuffed them in the biggest bags they could find.

It was like they knew he was trying to be discreet and had collectively decided to fuck him over.

Internally he can hear Jack’s exasperation if he said such a thing out loud. Jack would argue that no one was purposely fucking him over, Gabe would insinuate that Jack likes to fuck him over, Jack would be dense about the innuendo, Gabe would have to be blunt about it, and then Jack’s face would turn red as a tomato and he’d splutter and slap Gabe and then go back to insisting people weren’t out to get him.

The mental replay makes him grin, white teeth gleaming in the semi-darkness of the living room. Maybe he’d have to tease Jack a little tonight just to see that reddened face and those eyes go hazy with want.

The stockings above the fireplace catch his eye and immediately sour his mood.

”Stupid fucking socks. You're the most pain in the ass pieces of sh-”

”Who are you talking to, Gabe?”

Motherfucker.

The previously aforementioned blonde angel fills the doorway of the living room and Gabe can almost feel the wheels of his mind jamming and smoking while he picks up an internal monologue of Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Jack, in all his tall pale glory, had on a fucking candy cane striped apron that Gabe, for the life of him, did not recall ever seeing in either of their homes. Which meant that he’d bought it recently. Which then begged the question of; why?

Thinking quickly Gabe chucks the bags in his hand in the general direction of their tiny Christmas tree, grimacing as he hears them collide with God knew what. Thankfully he hadn't bought anything breakable, and hopefully, he didn't just annihilate their tree. Jack would not let him hear the end of it if he destroyed that shitty little tree.

Jack sighs and rolls his eyes at the display, casting a quick glance to where Gabe’s contraband has been so graciously catapulted. ”Well you only took out half the presents in that display of dumbassery, and also didn't answer my question.” He folds muscular arms across his chest and pegs his lover with a icey blue stare that brokered no lies. ”Wanna tell me who you were talking to now or you got more shit to chuck at my tree?”

Gabe scrubs his hands, still cold from the hours wandering that dumb outdoor ’mall’, over his face and holds both out placatingly to Jack. ”No one, mi amor. I was just muttering about the cold is all.” He rubs his hands together to emphasize his point. Jack hopefully wouldn’t call him on this little lie-

”I’ll believe that crock of shit you're trying to feed me when pigs fly, Reyes.”

Well okay, that hope was out the window.

Gabe internally groans and makes his way to Jack, still huffily standing in the doorway and taking up way too much space. Fuck, it was so hard not to gravitate towards that gorgeous brick wall of a man. How had Gabe resisted him as long as he had? He had to have been crazy.

“Amor. Jackie,” Gabe rubs his hands over Jack’s arms, savoring the warmth and reveling in the feel of the muscles under his palms, “it was nothing. If I could get you to go back in the kitchen for a few minutes while I set something up out here, I’ll give you whatever you want later.”

Jack eyes his lover with barely contained skepticism then places his hands over Gabe’s. The look quickly melts into a placating one as he winds their fingers together. “Your hands are freezing, Gabe. Promise me you’ll warm them up while you do what you need to do.” At Gabe’s enthusiastic nod Jack chuckles and turns to reenter the kitchen, muttering more to himself than to his lover. “Sometimes I can’t trust you to take care of yourself unless I’m watching.”

Gabe rolls his eyes behind Jack’s back- double checking that the blonde hadn’t seen it because that was a lecture he didn’t have the patience for- and smiles at his partner’s overprotectiveness. That was one thing that had drove him away from Jack at first but then had suddenly been the thing he loved.

Finally, grudgingly, he turns to view the mess he had made of their Christmas tree.

“Dios mio.”

Total. Annihilation.

There were no other words to describe the absolute chaos he had wrought on the display by chucking those damn bags. Worse than that, the bags had scattered as he’d tossed them and had knocked several ornaments off the front.

Thank god we bought plastic ones.

The next several minutes are spent gathering the bags and stuffing the various items in Jack’s stocking; chocolates, that dumb stuffed animal, some novelty magnets just to spruce up Jack’s boring plain white fridge at home, and then more weird candy shaped like little penises that had had Gabe nearly rolling in tears when he’d spotted it. Jack would blush like a virgin at these and Gabe hadn’t been able to resist.

With that job done, he sets about picking up the ornaments and placing them back on the tree and rearranging the presents he’d demolished. Most of what he’d knocked around seemed to be addressed to him and he felt a little guilty. Jack had been so proud of his wrapping job on each present and here Gabe had nearly destroyed that. He’d have to make it up to him somehow.

Standing back to observe his work, he grins. His hands were warm once more and he’d fixed the living room; mission accomplished. Okay, time to see what Jack was cooking up in there in that disgustingly cute apron.

The scents of the kitchen hit him full force as he steps into it. Gingerbread is the most overpowering of the scents but he catches hints of alcohol and cleaning products. Okay, so Jackie went on a cleaning spree before he started baking...and drinking.

There’s a glass of dubiously colored liquor on the counter, placing the smell as coming from there. Gabe had to wonder what the actual fuck Jack had poured in there. The alcoholic equivalent of bleach?

Wrinkling his nose in distaste he sidles up behind his partner and wraps his arms around him, sliding his hands down into the pockets at the front of the apron. So what if his fingers drag just a little slower as they brush past his crotch, he had been cold earlier after all…

A slap echoes in Gabe’s ears before he realizes it’s his arm that had been slapped… and with a gingerbread dough covered spatula no less. Okay fine, two could play at that game.

With an over dramatic pout set on his lips, Gabe yanks his arms back and crossed them across his chest, taking care to leave the dough-slapped one on top. Once Jack finally turns around with ‘that look’ on his face Gabe springs his plan into action, raising his arm to his face and licking the dough off in small laps.

Jack is stoic and speechless for several infinite-feeling seconds before the blush makes its way up the blonde’s pale neck and across his cheeks. His eyes widen ever so slightly before the lids drop, eyes behind them glazing over at the scene before him.

Dough finally removed from his arm- kind of gross but it had worked- Gabe reaches out to wrap Jack back into his arms, whispering words of affection as he tucks his face against that pink neck. Jack all but melts against him but keeps his hands down, lest he cover his lover in baking goods once more. Gabe had a feeling Jack wouldn’t be able to take a repeat performance before they’d both be naked in this kitchen. But hey, if it happened at least the place was clean.

The timer on the oven breaks apart their cuddling and Jack groans, pushing Gabe off with his elbow and turning to deal with his cookies. “Don’t think your sweet talk made me forget you were outside without gloves for who knows how long” Jack grouses, tone stern.

Gabe once again rolls his eyes with a smile. “Si, papi. I heard you the first ten times you’ve yelled at me about it.”

Jack’s spine tenses and he shoots a glare over his shoulder as he lays the cookie tray on the stove. Ripping the oven mitts off he slaps Gabe in the side of the head with them. “If you heard me then you’d stop doing it.”

Oh. Oh ho ho. So he wanted to get into this? Okay fine, he was game. “Says the man who rode his bike over here. You wanna explain that one to me? I don’t see appropriate winter gear at the door so what did you ride over here in?”

Jack’s blush deepens at the accusation, lips twisting into an angry grimace at being called out. He was the one who took care of Gabe, not the other way around! “That’s not the point, Reyes.”

Gabe can feel a twitch starting in his eye at the use of his last name. It was usually an argument starter when they resorted to this. “Fine, you win”, he lifts his hands in surrender, “I should’ve worn gloves. Can we not fight two days before Christmas, please?”

He watched the argument die in Jack’s face and then the man comes gliding towards him with shame in his posture. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” Briefly he nuzzles his nose against Gabe’s cheek then steps back. “I made us cookies, and I brought some dry wood so we could have a fire. I figured it’d be a nice way to ring in Christmas Eve Eve.”

Gabe almost twitches but holds it back. Was Christmas Eve Eve going to be another new tradition he’d need to adopt? Mentally he shakes it off and offers the blonde a warm smile. “Sounds nice, Jackie. Let’s get the fire and TV going and sit back.”

An hour later finds both men situated in a nest of quilts, mugs of hot chocolate cradled between their hands and a plate of freshly baked, and grotesquely malformed, gingerbread cookies sitting before them. The fire is blazing and at some point Jack had turned all the lights off to let the Christmas tree really shine. And shine it did; a multitude of colors that Gabe did not remember decorating with. That’s what he got for letting Jack take charge.

“Your cookies look like shit, Jackie. Taste damn great but look like shit”

Jack’s glare is icy as he stares at the man beside him. “I did my best.” He huffs and turns away, liquid sloshing precariously in his cup and making Gabe wince. God not on the carpet, he’d just vacuumed this week. Something catches Jack’s eye and he jumps up, sloshing the liquid close again, grabbing a pink envelope off the fireplace mantle. With a grace he shouldn’t possess for being so big he slips back into the quilts and plops the paper on Gabe’s lap. “You got a Christmas card from Sombra today.”

Gabe casts him a sideways glance. “And you didn’t open it, why?”

“Not my card. I don’t know what weird stuff she may have written in there.”

Gabe rolls his eyes and jabs his shoulder against Jack’s in response. Setting the cup down gently on the cookie platter, a glance cast towards his partner to show this was the proper way to handle a mug full of steaming brown liquid, he picks the envelope up by the corner, inspecting it as if it might bite or dump glitter on him (It wouldn’t be the first time, the birthday card she’d sent has poofed glitter all over his kitchen). What greets him instead when he opens it is a tastefully done Christmas card with a string of indecipherable numbers.

Casting a quizzical glance at Jack he flashes him the card and earns a shrug for the effort. Whatever, it would go on the fridge regardless. For all he knew it was a lengthy insult or coordinates to buried treasure in his own backyard. He tosses it unceremoniously behind him and picks his mug back up, leaning over onto Jack and resting his head on his shoulder. The gesture awards him a kiss on the forehead and a contented sigh from the other man. “Merry Christmas, Jackie. Love you.”

Jack casts adoring eyes at the big man resting on him, wishing he had set his mug down ahead of time so he could thread their fingers together. Instead, he opts for another happy sigh and stares at their little tree. “Merry Christmas, Gabe. I love you too.”