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Gifts. An item or number of items that have been chosen for a specific person with the thought of bringing them joy. It is given during celebratory times, be it for the holiday season or a birthday, but then there are just times where you simply want to bring a smile onto a person's face. Gifts can be presented in numerous ways, from being intricately wrapped up in colourful and decorated papers, to boxes with designs that range from simple to exquisite to bags with cute and hilarious designs on them, and clearly so many more creative ways. However, there is one gift that is different from the rest; Christmas. A Christmas gift to be exact. What’s the difference, you ask? Well, the difference between a gift and a Christmas gift is the particular sparks and oomph it brings, and the shift in atmosphere that is different to other holidays. That pure joy and the magical vibe it brings to those excitingly ripping through paper and ribbons to get to the centre where the item is laid, or unfortunately struggling to even get through due to being pranked on.
There’s a tingling sense of warmth that reminds one of the nice heat radiating from the fireplace or the spices in delectable meals during dinner, the way how lips are pulled upwards into grins or how a laugh would erupt in glee. It’s light and wondrous, a magical feeling that is like no other and it’s indescribable. The way people congregate, doesn’t matter whether it’s distant or all in one room, it’s the closeness and how you’re sharing the moment together. The stories parents would tell kids about the holiday, writing letters filled with wishes and promises of good behaviours in hopes of getting a special gift while leaving snacks - a plate of freshly baked cookies and a cup of milk, accompanied by some juicy carrots - out for a certain plump man dressed in red with furry friends. Though, there is the catch that only good kids get gifts, otherwise a lump of coal is all they’re getting.
As great and spectacular as these gifts are, getting them is a whole ‘nother story, and Bandit unfortunately discovered this the hard and horrendous way. He didn’t expect for so much planning to be done just to get gifts. Dear God, he feels like ripping his hair out and clawing at his brain for forgetting to do it earlier. No one had told him how fucking chaotic it is to get to the store, let alone inside the stupid place. It should have been smooth and easy, not abysmally catastrophic. A simple get in, buy the stupid thing and get the fuck out and not get swamped by a horde of bustling people or have his ankle almost taken out by trolleys and prams. The weather wasn’t that great either but at least one thing, well, one person, was helping him keep his cool and sanity intact.
Bandit had been cursing himself profusely for forgetting since yesterday, no, three days ago since he had returned from a long mission at café located in Moscow. If it weren’t for Rook ardently talking about what he's getting for a certain shield-wielding German to Jäger and Twitch, he’d have surely forgotten for sure. Grumpily returning to his room, stressed and exhausted, the German made a beeline to his bed and instantly collapsed into it, but not without letting out a loud, frustrated muffled groan. A gentle knock at his door had him let out another groan of discontentment but he stayed in bed, unmoving and hoping the person would go away. They didn’t as the door clicked open.
“Sorry to barge in but…” a deep voice spoke before trailing off, most likely puzzled by the sight of Bandit. Paper rustled as the sound of footsteps became louder before stopping at his bed, “Rough mission I’m assuming, amour.”
A groan.
“That bad?”
Another displeased grunt.
“You know, I don’t speak grunts,” the Frenchman chuckled in hilarity. The defender lifts his head up, exhausted brown eyes met with amused ones with a matching smile plastered on his boyfriend’s face. “Would you like to talk about it?”
A shake of tousled dirty blonde hair indicated no which resulted in Gilles letting out a little sigh. The bed dipped as another weight joined him; a warm hand came to rest on his right shoulder and then a kiss on his head, it was soft and warm and always leaves him feeling tranquil. The shield wielding operator always knew how to ease away his troubles with the simplest of actions, he always feels at peace, calm and safe around him. Dom sometimes believes that Gilles has some sort of magic power that he’s hiding, but obviously that isn’t the case. Is it though? “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Bandit finally answers.
“Well, it’s bothering you, so it does.”
Bandit sits up, mulls over on whether to tell or not. To him, it’s serious but to others, it may seem like he’s just overthinking and the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself, again, in front of his boyfriend over something as dumb as this. It was a few minutes of silence, with his face contorting into various expressions whilst thinking it all through, though to him it felt like hours, before the German came to a conclusion. Parting his lips, he explained to Gilles what had been eating at him. He’s been so busy with work that he had forgotten about getting his nephews Christmas gifts, hell, he forgot about Christmas entirely and would have continued to do so if it weren’t for Rook’s excitement reminding him. One mission after another, stacks of paperwork after another, the evaluation of his CED-1, Crude Electrical Device, and then training had eaten up so much of his time that he had never gotten the opportunity to get one. “And there you have it. Don’t laugh.”
“What’s there to laugh about? If anything, the only laughable thing was that you thinking all this was dumb,” Gilles chortled, which resulted in a glare and a frown from Bandit, “Look, Dom, you got literally thre—“
“Two now, it’s past midnight.”
“Okay, two. You got two days to get the gifts. How about we go to the shopping centre tomorrow to get them? A simple get in and get out rush, hm?”
“You make it sound so easy but you know it gets crazy during this time of the year, right?”
“Not if we wake up super early.”
A heavy sigh and sag of shoulders, Bandit throw his arms into the air in defeat, “Ja, alright. I know I’m going to regret and hate this but…”
“But…?”
“But if it makes the boys happy, it’ll be worth it,” Dom says fondly with a small smile which earned him a hug and kiss from his partner that melts him even further. “Don’t tell anyone this,” he adds quickly after parting for air. A chuckle was the response he received before he was pulled down into the bed. A new sensation takes over him. It was warm and light, something that’s completely different to the ones he usually feels. Perhaps it is Gilles, or maybe it’s the fatigue that’s eating at his brain. Regardless, Bandit likes it and hopes that he can feel it a lot more. He wonders what the morning will bring, what new experience they will encounter. Would it be good or bad? Will there even be enough time for him to get everything? Hopefully, it all goes smoothly and they can get it over and done with quickly. He snakes an arm around the larger man and allowed himself to melt into the frame that had tightened their grip around him, allowing the warmth and rhythmic beating of the heart to lull him to sleep. Surely, it will be smooth, right?
---
He had no idea how his boyfriend can keep his composure after all the bullshit they had to endure to get here while he wanted to curse whichever deity had decided it'll be fun to put them through all that hell. You see, Dominic is and never was a morning person and having to wake up extra early had put him in an extremely sour mood, what made it worse was having to skip breakfast, even though he rarely ever eats it, to beat traffic only to find out that that was utterly useless. Traffic was horrendous. It was like the Grand Prix for civilians, the roar of the engines as people literally put the pedal to the metal, the non-existent use of indicators to switch lanes or make turns had him grinding his teeth and the abuse of the horn had him wanting to slash tires. To actually think people had the exact same idea as them, and so many at that, baffled him immensely and he couldn’t wait to get this shit show over and done with.
So, here they are, sitting outside of the shopping centre with the engine off inside their car in the parking lot waiting for it to open in the next hour. Exactly what is he supposed to do for the next hour anyway? Glancing to his side, Bandit watched intently as Monty lowered the backrest and snuggled into the seat comfortably with his arms crossed over his chest. He kicked himself mentally for staring at how his lover’s muscles moving under his shirt while making the adjustments, how the other’s biceps mocked him by bulging under the fabric that hugged his lover so perfectly well, and he absolutely hates it. This isn’t fair.
Dominic pulled out his phone and began tapping away at the screen, opening up the chat log between him and his brother. He re-read the messages he last had, his lips curling upwards ever so slightly. His nephews had secretly taken their father’s phone to message him, little emoticons littered each chat bubble and the multiple audio message they had to use because typing was taking way too long. He pressed at one of the audio files, pressed the phone speaker up to his ear and turned up the volume up just enough for him to hear. A soft chuckle left his lips as he hears the absolute panic in the boys wishing him a Merry Christmas through broken pants and the rapid thumping of footfalls against wooden floors, Cedrick’s voice can be heard asking for his phone back in the background and joyous giggling from the boys.
“Your nephews?”
“Ja,” the German replies, shoving his phone back into his jacket pocket and turning his attention to his boyfriend who was lovingly smiling at him.
“Would you mind telling me about them?” Gilles asked softly, tone filled with adoration and slight curiosity, which surprised Dom. It normally doesn’t but today, right now, it did. Perhaps it’s the tone or the way how the query was posed, or maybe it was the passionate expression plastered on his face and the fondness glistening in his stunning eyes. Whatever it was that was causing him to feel this way, it sure had fried his brain because he’s now dumbly staring back at his boyfriend who had his eyebrow arched in perplexity. Clearing his throat Bandit nods his head, got comfortable, or as comfortable as he can, and began recalling the fond memories to Monty.
“The pranking genes had definitely been passed onto the boys,” the defender wheezed through fits of laughs that he shared with his lover, reminiscing the time Cedrick told him about the boys filling his socks with butter and how unpleasant it is stick his foot into it.
“How did your brother not feel the butter, let alone the boys managing to fill it?” the Frenchman asked, both puzzled and amused.
“I have no idea but I applaud them.”
“It really does seem like they learned from the best,” his lover compliments, which had taken him by surprise, again, and left him struggling to find a reply to that. “Also, it’s almost time. Let’s go before it gets really crowded.”
---
Snow crunched under their boots, the chilly wind whispers as it danced around them, sending little specks of crystal whites to glisten in the morning light, and with every breath it comes in wispy mists that would fade into the wind in a tango-like manner. Their nose tinted in a shade of pink from being bitten by the cold even with the thick jackets that promised them warmth. They're both bundled, well, Montagne mostly, in thick layers of winter clothes in hopes that it'll keep them warm from the wrath of Mother Nature. It was brutal and Bandit loathes it. He detested the cold. How it makes his body stiffen, fingers feeling as though they would break off at any given moment, how it'll have him sniffling every goddamn second of the day and the shivers that would shake his entire body. He detested the nights more than morning, that's usually when it becomes really rough for him. Glancing at the huge compound before them, his face instantly scrunched up at the sight of the line that had formed in front of the entrance and he can already tell that it’s going to be utter hell. His mood went south immediately as they joined the line that gradually grew longer as time ticked by. He drowns out the chattering and sniffling of the people, choosing to escape into his mind instead and pondering on what to get exactly for his nephews.
The feeling of a soft and warm fabric gliding around his neck broke his thought process; his hand instantaneously flew to the wrist in a vice-like grip. He tightened his clasp, whipped his head to the side and narrowed his eyes darkly but quickly softened upon realising that it was just Monty wrapping his grey scarf. His eyes bounced between his hand that still has a tight hold on the Frenchman's wrist and the unfazed expression on Monty’s face. He quickly let go and as though his lover could sense him fumbling for an apology, simply smiled and continued to wrap the scarf. “You were shivering, thought this might help.”
“Gilles, I-“
“You didn't mean to, I know. Accidents happen.” The man smiled tenderly and took his hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Dom pulled the scarf up a little, returning the gesture and smiling into the fabric as he gets a clear waft of the aroma that only Monty has. What did he do to deserve this man? It was always a constant inquiry that would pop into his mind every so often.
Feeling his hand being tugged, Bandit turned his gaze onto Monty inquisitively who had directed his eyes over to the entrance's doors that had finally opened and people were already making their way inside stores. Without wasting any more time, the two operators entered the centre where the laughter of children and chattering of people resonated in their ears. The delectable smell of food wafted in the air with the faint scent of spices mixing in, the jingling of bells can faintly be heard from somewhere within and it was warm inside the centre thanks to the heating system.
Christmas decorations lit up the building in an array of colours, shimmering and twirling in the golden sun rays, festive music hums on the speakers faintly or from nearby shops. Workers had Santa hats, reindeer antlers or elves hat propped on their heads as they waddled around the store helping out as much customers as possible. Cardboard cut-outs of Christmas trees, sleighs and even more Santas, reindeers and elves can be seen giving stores that extra pop of colours in their display windows, as if they even need the extra colours but hey, who is he to even judge. Dom is already dreading having to make his way through the crowd to even make it anywhere, he can’t imagine what the food court would be like let alone even wanting to use the fucking bathrooms.
“Let’s get this shit over and done with,” the German exasperatedly states, making his way over to a nearby toy store with Monty right beside him, hands still tenderly clasped together.
They spent a total of forty minutes inside the store and within those forty minutes however, Bandit had managed to make a child cry for making snide remarks that he shouldn’t be here because he was an adult and he’s too ‘old’ to play with toys. Monty had to drag him away before he had the opportunity to throw hands with the child. Gilles, unfortunately, had his foot trampled on by kids carelessly running around the store not once, not twice, but thrice! How the gentle giant remained calm and quietly took the trampling like a champ had left Bandit both furious and amazed. The next store was decently better, by a small margin, but they were successful in finding one toy and, in Bandit’s wording, a ‘motherfucking badass’ jacket for one of his nephews and the staff was kind enough to box the toy and wrap the jacket for them.
The German defender wanted to shop for his other nephews but Monty suggested for them to take a break and grab something to eat since they both skipped breakfast. He wanted to decline but his stomach decided to betray him and make one of the ugliest and loudest grumbling sounds it could muster, resulting in several people eyeing them, kids to chuckle, Monty to grin widely and Dom to hide half his face behind the scarf. They made their way through the crowds towards the food court, being very careful to not be run over by people with prams or trolleys, as keeping their ankles intact would be fantastic, thank you very much. As always, there were lines at each restaurant, workers all bustling about to get their job done and get the line moving. Bandit simply settled for a cup of coffee while Monty had a proper meal. He watched the people around them while sipping on his hot beverage.
Seeing children laugh and throw little tantrums reminded him of his childhood, of when he was back in Germany and celebrating with his family. He and Cedrick would throw pranks, as usual, on their relatives and neighbours. Just because it was the holiday season, didn’t mean they can’t have a little fun, right? He couldn’t help but to grin amusedly to himself, remembering the time one of their neighbours from down the road chased after them, bellowing how they would receive coal for Christmas rather than toys, but how are you supposed to take such a threat seriously when the man was covered in glistening glitter with a broken flip flop in hand. It was simpler times back then and now that he’s older with a past that’s tainted, he held onto these memories but hid them at the very back of his mind, fear of ever losing them or having them tainted, too. Bandit downed the rest of his coffee just as Monty had finished with his own breakfast. The Frenchman gathered their rubbish and discarded them into their respective bins, and they were both on their feet to complete their Christmas shopping.
Jumping from store to store, the search was on for the next present for the remaining nephew and oh boy, it wasn’t easy as the centre became busier with people out to do their own shopping. They wondered around looking at stores and seeing if anything catches their attention, thus far none has. A loud bellowing laugh caught their, and several shoppers’, attentions. Following the sound to its source, they stare down to spot a large section of the centre separated from the rest of the floor. Fake reindeer were placed on opposite ends of one another, light poles painted in red and green stripes were set up along with a mailbox. Two medium sized pine trees, decorated beautifully with colourful ornaments, stood beside a large chair with a man dressed as Santa Claus sat accompanied by two people dressed as elves standing next to him. A photographer can be seen snapping shots of kids sitting on Santa’s lap, parents with excited children all lined up not very far away, ready to tell Santa their wish for Christmas. Bandit watched intently as one after another, children would run up to Santa, climbing onto his lap, whisper in his ear and get their photo taken.
“I forget they would have something like this during Christmas,” Monty muttered, fondly staring at the sight before them, “Kids waiting to have their photo taken with Santa and everything.”
Bandit hums in agreement. The holiday was pretty much centred around this man that’s dressed in red with magical reindeers that takes to the skies on a sleigh; they travel around the world to deliver presents all around the world and all in one night. “Yeah, but Santa is just a fat man that breaks into your house with little men who know if you're good or bad,” he states absent-mindedly, gaze still fixated on the crowd down below, obviously not realising the shock value the statement had on the poor Frenchman. “Think about it. How do they even know?”
Dominic turns his attention from the crowd to Gilles and instantly realised what he had just said. At this very moment, Dominic 'Bandit' Brunsmeier knew he had just fucked up. Horrendously. The look his boyfriend is giving him was both a mix of bewilderment and uncertainty. He begins to panic because holy fuck he probably just ruined the image of Santa fucking Claus, the embodiment of Christmas, for Montagne. Shit, shit, shit, shit. How does one fix this? The German’s brain begins flinging out every possible troubleshoot solution it could think of but hearing his name being called had it all come to a screeching halt. Scheiße.
“Dom,” Monty calls his name again, a pause as he stared intently at him before continuing, “I love you and everything. But,” another pause. “Stop. You're ruining Christmas for me. And Santa.”
“I’m sorry but it’s true though!”
“Non! Stop. Not another word!”
“How does he really know?” Bandit exclaims defensively, “And the Naughty and Nice list? How’d he know if you’ve been either one?”
“Just because your name is probably on the Naughty list doesn’t mean you get to ruin Santa for me,” Gilles replies with feigned hurt, hand clasped over his chest and a frown to finish. Dominic squints at his boyfriend, not believing the sight before him at all or the fact Monty is faking hurt. That’s his job.
“I can’t believe you’re turning the tables on me," Bandit says in both disbelief and awe, "I’m keeping your scarf.”
“That’s fine, you can keep it to remember me when I’m away,” his lover countered and leaned towards him, voice abruptly getting husky as he whispered in his ears, “But I get to keep something of yours.”
Bandit took a small step back to look into his boyfriend’s eyes, a wide grin sprouted on his face and a hint of mischief glinted in his eyes. He parts his lips to answer in pure amusement and beguilement, “Ja, okay. I have an idea what you can have.”
“Parfait.”