Work Text:
C: Fun fact: Did you know that if you try to flush a large bucket of popcorn down a movie theater toilet, it will, in fact, flood an entire public restroom?
Kevin snorted out loud, then snuck a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure there were no customers -- or worse, managers -- around to hear it. When he saw that the aisle was clear, he pulled his phone the rest of the way out of his apron and began typing his response.
K: I do now.
Followed by:
K: Rough day at work, huh?
Followed by:
The poop emoji, because why not utilize the full extent of their generation’s linguistic achievements?
The texting had become a regular part of their daily routines since returning from their mission three months ago. It had started out as a series of ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ texts with a sporadic, clunky attempt at small talk in between as they struggled to find their footing in this new medium of communication. After nearly two years together in Uganda, spending every day face-to-face without the buffer of phones, it was strange, among the other many adjustments they were still trying to wrap their heads around, to have their relationship be condensed to words on a screen.
Gradually, it had gotten a little easier-- the texting, not the distance. That part still sucked, though they had to consider themselves lucky that they only lived an hour-and-a-half apart instead of several states like Chris and James, or even further in the case of Arnold and Naba.
Now, they spent a lot of their nights talking on the phone, or FaceTiming when they were missing each other a little extra (which was often), and they got in the groove of keeping a somewhat steady flow of communication throughout the day. It was usually things like the above; sporadic updates about their horrible, minimum wage jobs, typed out from apron pockets and empty grocery aisles and bathroom stalls. The secretiveness of the communication at least added a bit of excitement to what would otherwise be claw-your-eyes-out, boringly-long shifts, and Kevin couldn’t help but feel a tiny thrill go through him every time Connor’s signature two-beat buzz went off in his pocket.
Which it did again, just then.
C: I’m glad you’re amused by my suffering. My socks are soaked with toilet water.
Kevin smiled ruefully.
K: You should have thought about that before you went and flushed a bucket of popcorn. :/
He could practically feel the annoyance through the dancing bubble on his screen as Connor typed his response.
C: I’m going to kill you.
C: Also pls ditch work and bring me new socks, thx
“Price.”
Shit.
He looked up to find his least favorite assistant manager standing at the end of the aisle, watching him with her arms folded over his chest. He dropped the phone back into his pocket.
“Sorry, I was--” He stopped short of making up some excuse. “Sorry.”
The man raised an eyebrow, deepening the permanent crease that lived just above the bridge of his nose. “The cranberry sauce endcap on thirteen needs restocked,” he said flatly.
Kevin held back the exasperated eye roll that wanted so badly to break loose. “Again? I swear, I just finished stocking it like twenty minutes ago.”
“Welcome to Christmas week at a grocery store, kid.” He stalked away before Kevin could reply, and he snuck the quickest response to Connor he could manage.
K: Gotta run. Cranberry emergency. Christmas as a whole will collapse if I don’t put these cans on shelves RIGHT NOW, and I simply can’t have that on my conscience.
He was almost at the end of the aisle when he stopped, pulling out his phone one more time.
K: Hope your socks dry soon. Don’t flush anymore snacks while I’m gone. Love you.
“...in conclusion, that’s why I think parents who leave their pre-teens alone at the movie theater like it’s a makeshift, eight-dollar daycare should be subjected to a minimum sentence at a federal prison.” Connor lay on his side in the tiny rectangle of Kevin’s phone screen, propping himself up on one elbow. The thin sliver of pale belly that peeked out from under his white pajama shirt was pixely at best, but it was quite enough to make him resent the distance a little bit extra.
“Sounds fair to me.” Kevin shrugged.
Connor let out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head to rest in his palm. “Anyway, enough about my dumpster fire of a day. How was yours?”
“I wasn’t ankle deep in toilet water at any point, so I guess better than yours?” He cracked a smile that Connor readily returned. “It was fine. A little crazy. You wouldn’t believe how many people put off their Christmas shopping to the last minute and still have the nerve to complain about a lack of stock and long lines. As if they are not, in fact, responsible for both of those things.”
“Common sense is not a friend of the general public, no.”
“I’m just glad this town is Mormon enough to have the decency to close on Christmas Eve. At least now I can look forward to a couple of days off,” Kevin said.
“Well, unfortunately the LDS church did not factor movie theaters into their generosity.”
Kevin’s mouth dropped into a frown. “I can’t believe you have to work tomorrow. That should be illegal.”
Connor snorted. “While I agree with you on principle, it’s really not a big deal. I told them I would work.”
“Why would you volunteer for that?”
That’s when Connor’s expression shifted slightly -- open book that he was -- his eyes dancing briefly offscreen before returning with a forced smile. “Does time-and-a-half holiday pay not sound like a compelling offer to you?” He teased.
Kevin’s frown deepened. “Sure, but money isn’t everything, Con.”
“No, but it’s a pretty big component in building the bridge to New York.”
“New York already has, like, a lot of bridges though.”
“Cute,” Connor deadpanned.
“Thank you.” He let a beat of silence pass between them before he asked, “What do your parents think about all this?”
He had been right to suspect it might be a touchy subject. Connor sat up, bringing his laptop to set on his knees as he huddled back against his headboard. “I don’t really have much of a read on them. I think they’re fine with it, which is…” He trailed off, a small crease forming between his brows.
“Which is…?” Kevin prompted gently.
Connor let out a long, quiet breath. “Disappointing?” He tried, shrugging. “But also kind of exactly what I expected? I don’t know. If I’m being honest, I think I made this choice for their benefit as much as my own.”
The sudden lump in Kevn’s throat told him he knew where this was headed, but he asked anyway. “What do you mean?”
Their eyes met again, just long enough for Connor to tug the corner of his mouth into a small smile before letting it drop. “You know how things have been since coming out. I think we’ve all been dreading the holidays a little bit, secretly. None of us have been looking forward to spending a couple days pretending like everything is suddenly normal and fine. And now we don’t have to.”
“That’s so shitty, Connor. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to shoulder your parent’s issues on top of your own workload.”
“Yeah, well,” he spoke quietly, pausing to clear his throat. “Like I said, it’s not all bad, right? Time-and-a-half for two days straight is nothing to sneeze at when you’re trying to build savings.”
Kevin offered the most sincere smile he could manage, which almost definitely fell short. “Right.”
“Hey.” Connor was the one to speak up after the next bout of silence, and Kevin was relieved to see a genuine sparkle in his eyes that had nothing to do with sadness. “One week from tomorrow.”
Kevin’s mouth split into an easy smile, then, warmth flooding through his chest at the reminder of how soon they would get to see each other again. “As if I haven’t been staring at the countdown on my phone all week.”
Connor quirked an eyebrow. “You have a countdown on your phone?”
Kevin definitely did not blush at that, because he was comfortable in his affections. “Yes, which is very adorable and wholesome and not at all creepy. Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?” Connor tried to conceal his smile behind a palm. “I’m not giving you a look.”
“Look, you would have a countdown, too, if you had plans to kiss the hottest guy in the room on New Year’s Eve.”
“Funny, that,” Connor replied. “Because I actually do.”
“Have a countdown?” Kevin asked.
“Have plans to kiss the hottest guy in the room.”
“Who is it? I’ll kick his butt.”
At this, Connor burst out laughing, no longer trying to play it cool behind his hand. “You’re such a dork,” he said, as Kevin beamed back at him. “I miss you, Kev.”
Kevin melted all over, the way he still did after two years, the way he thought he always might, at his words.
“I miss you, too, Connor. I’ll see you soon.”
The last showing of the night was a black-and-white screening of Miracle on 34th Street in theater 2, which had started nearly twenty minutes ago. Theater 1, the only other room at the tiny, privately-owned cinema, was playing Minions 2: Electric Boogaloo: The Christmas Special: The Musical: Part 7, or some shit. Whatever. He was paraphrasing.
The point was, neither of those things mattered much, because they had sold a combined total of eleven tickets all night (all of which went to The Minions, he felt it was important to add), despite management’s insistence that they stay open over the holidays to rake in the cash. As maddening as it was on principle, at least it meant there would be less cleanup to do when the final two showings wrapped up and their eleven whole patrons went on their merry way. In fact, speaking of cleanup, Connor decided he had earned a nice dip into the popcorn stash while the lobby was clear.
He shuffled a scoopful into one of the little, plastic cups they gave out for water and was about to take a bite when his brain decided to conjure the mental image of what it looked like the day before, after a snot-nosed seventh grader shoved it into the plumbing system for pure shits(literally)-and-giggles. He decided against it.
He checked his phone again despite himself, unsurprised to see the only notification on his screen was a reminder from the Duolingo owl that he hadn’t been keeping up with his daily Spanish lessons. Kevin had left his last message on ‘read’ a couple of hours ago, which he wasn’t taking personally because he figured he was busy spending time with his family. As he should be.
When they were in Uganda, Kevin had spent a lot of time talking about his big extended family and how all two-billion of his cousins were super close and he loved getting the chance to see them. Holidays were a big to-do in his household growing up, which Connor had learned during their first Christmas together on the mission when Kevin had become more quiet and withdrawn than he already was at that time. It was a rough Christmas Eve for all of the boys, but it was also the first time he had gotten up the courage to kiss Kevin’s cheek, under the fake mistletoe Poptarts had strung up in the hallway, so he couldn’t write off the day entirely.
At any rate, he knew Kevin was over the moon to be spending his first Christmas back in the states at his grandmother’s house with all of his relatives he hadn’t seen since he returned, and Connor sincerely hoped he was having an amazing time. Even if he had to be here, clogging his arteries from the sheer, overwhelming smell of popcorn butter while his shoes clung to the sticky, soda-covered floors with each step.
“Hey.”
Connor jumped a solid foot in the air as his coworker appeared suddenly behind him, the way she tended to do. He turned around to see Ash smiling at him, streaks of neon-green in her hair and the black-studden lip ring tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Jesus.” Connor clutched his chest with the hand that wasn’t holding the half-spilled popcorn. “Stop sneaking up on me.”
“Stop eating the merchandise on the clock,” she retorted without skipping a beat, grabbing a handful of popcorn off the top of his cup and shoving it in her own mouth. Connor tried hard not to think about the toilet again.
“Where did you go off to?” Connor asked, handing her the rest of the cup.
She shrugged. “Watching the movie from the projector room.”
His first instinct was to scowl at her for leaving him alone, being the only two employees on the schedule tonight. But considering he had spent the last twenty minutes essentially twiddling his thumbs behind the concession counter, he guessed there really was no point in being mad.
“Minions?” he asked, leaning up against the counter in front of the soda machine. Ash threw a piece of popcorn at him, and it bounced between his eyes before falling to the floor.
“How dare you,” she said.
“You can go back and keep watching, you know,” Connor offered. “I think I can manage on my own out here. At least one of us should be able to enjoy their Christmas Eve.”
“I’m Jewish,” she said, clocking Connor’s surprised stare. “What? Don’t you think it’s a bit closed-minded to assume everyone here adheres to your own religious views?”
Connor’s mouth popped open. “What? No, I— No!”
“Relax,” she smiled. “I’m kidding.”
He blinked. “...about being Jewish?”
“About being offended, Connor. Chill out.” She leaned back against the opposite counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “So why did you volunteer to work today if Christmas Eve means something to you?”
Connor crossed his own arms in a mirror image, suddenly wishing he’d held onto the popcorn just so he would have something to do with his hands as he avoided her gaze. “That’s complicated,” he said, staring at the rubber toe of his converse sneakers.
“Not easy being gay in rural Utah, huh?”
His head snapped up to find Ash’s smile a little softer than the usual smirk she wore.
“How did you…?”
“Takes one to know one, buddy.”
“You’re a lesbian?” Connor blurted, louder than he meant to. He put his hand up to his mouth, lowering his voice to a near-whisper. “Sorry. You’re a lesbian?”
“Bisexual,” she whispered back, mocking his inflection. “But close.”
“Are Jewish people, like… allowed to be gay?”
Jesus, Connor. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the voice of Regina George was scolding him: Karen, you can’t just ask people if they’re allowed to be gay.
“Are Mormons allowed to like… be gay?” She cocked an eyebrow and Connor laughed.
“Yeah, fair,” he said. “Sorry, I’m just… not all with it tonight.”
Again, her expression softened. “Again, not offended.”
The chime of the bell on the door made both of them cringe in unison, stepping away from the counter to greet whatever misguided moviegoer was showing up about a half-hour too late to catch a screening of the worst animated film in history.
“Should we tell him we’re sold out?” Ash whispered slyly from the corner of her mouth, but Connor couldn’t be bothered to respond, because he was too busy picking his jaw up off the floor at the sight of Kevin Price striding across the lobby.
“Kevin,” he breathed, stepping around the side of the counter to meet him. It wasn’t until he was several feet away that he noticed the telltale redness around the rims of his eyes. He swallowed.
“Minions and Miracle on 34th Street, huh?” He could hear the faint coarseness in Kevin’s voice even as he joked. “Classic cinematic combo.”
“What are you doing here?” Connor blinked at him, trying to wrap his head around the sight of his boyfriend, stunning in his long, black peacoat and scarf, standing in the lobby of his workplace.
“I was in the neighborhood,” Kevin smirked. He leaned in for a kiss but stopped himself before they made contact, casting a side glance at Ash behind him.
“It’s okay, she’s bisexual,” Connor explained. “And Jewish.”
Kevin narrowed his eyes in confusion at the last part at the same time Ash breathed an exasperated “oh boy” behind him.
“Yeah, I’m going to…” she trailed off pointing vaguely in the direction of the other side of the lobby, “go be anywhere else.”
Without bothering to ask, Connor scurried back behind the counter again and grabbed a large cup and filled it to the top with ice, followed by the perfect ratio of unsweetened tea to lemonade he knew Kevin loved to drink when they went out.
Kevin raised his eyebrows as Connor slid it over to him. “Free drinks, huh? Is this going to get you fired?”
“God, I hope so.” Connor made his way back around the glass, taking Kevin’s hand and leading him to the padded bench outside the ladie’s room. “Are you going to tell me what you’re really doing here? And why it looks like you’ve been crying?”
Kevin looked away, taking a sip of his drink. “It doesn’t look like I’ve been crying,” he argued lamely. Gently, Connor placed his fingers against his jaw, guiding his face back toward him. Kevin gave almost instantly. “Okay, there may have been a few tears on the drive here.”
Connor frowned, letting his hand drop from his jaw only to claim his fingers on his lap. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at the Christmas party?”
Kevin blew out a humorless laugh. “Who knows?” He said. “I wasn’t invited.”
Connor’s heart dropped down into his stomach. “What? What do you mean?”
Kevin didn’t bother hiding the fresh tears that welled in his eyes then, and he didn’t bother looking away either.
“My dad came upstairs to my room when I was getting dressed for dinner,” he started, squeezing Connor’s hand lightly. “He told me that… god, how did he say it? That given the ‘recent circumstances,’ he thought it would be best for everyone if I ‘let things air out a bit’ before seeing the extended family again.”
“What does that even mean?” Connor felt a righteous anger flaring in his chest on Kevin’s behalf.
He watched Kevin swipe the back of his sleeve across his face. “It means my dad isn’t ready to bring his gay son to Christmas Eve, especially when the family is still feeling repercussions of said gay son’s recent excommunication from the church.” He paused, shaking his head. “You know what’s funny? I think this was the most he’s spoken to me since I’ve been home.”
“That is so fucked, Kevin. So fucked. I’m sorry.” Connor was scrambling for words, but none of them felt big enough to fit just how angry he was. “What did your mom have to say about it?”
“I didn’t ask,” he sniffed. “I don’t think I wanted to find out. I ran to the car as soon as he left my room and I just… started driving. But I’m sure she would side with him. She always does.”
“I’m sorry,” Connor said again, desperate to find anything that might ease his pain, even a little. “Would it be entirely awful and selfish for me to say seeing you walk through that door has been the highlight of my week?”
Even through tears, Kevin cracked a tiny smile, looking up into Connor’s eyes. “It wouldn’t be awful, no,” he said. “I might have been running mostly on autopilot, but there’s a reason my instincts brought me here. I missed you.”
He melted into the embrace as soon as Kevin’s arms were around him, squeezing him tight to his chest.
“I missed you so much,” Connor whispered into the side of his neck. They pulled back, keeping their hands linked between them. “I’m sorry for all the reasons that brought you here, but it’s so good to see you.”
For the first time, it seemed to occur to Kevin just what he had done, and he looked up, blushing slightly. “Sorry, I probably should have… called? Or something? I guess it could probably be construed as impolite and maybe slightly crazy just turning up at your work unannounced. I just… I couldn’t stand the idea of being alone in the house while Jack and Kayla and my parents were all...”
“Hey,” Connor stopped him firmly. “Stop that. It’s fine. It’s more than fine. I’m glad you came.” He gestured around at the empty lobby (well, empty with the exception of Ash pretending to sweep around the ticket booth). “It’s not like I’ve got a lot going on at the moment, anyway.”
“Still,” Kevin shrugged. “I don’t want to keep you from cleaning up or whatever you need to do. I didn’t really… think this through.”
He was making a half-hearted effort to stand up when Connor stopped him with a gentle hand on his wrist, pulling him back down.
“Stay,” he insisted softly. “You can’t spend Christmas Eve alone. Even if the alternative is spending Christmas Eve in a mostly-empty movie theater with me.”
Kevin settled back onto the bench, holding his gaze. “The where doesn’t matter. It’s the with you part I’m on board with.”
They were leaning in for another kiss, about to make contact, when Ash reappeared several yards to their left, coughing exaggeratedly into her fist.
Cough. “Theater1isempty” Cough.
Connor and Kevin pulled apart, looking up at her. She raised her eyebrows, gesturing over their shoulders to the double doors against the wall.
Cough. “Stillanotherhourleftofthemovie.” Cough
“Do you need some water?” Connor asked.
Ash threw her hands up, exasperated, with an eye roll that could have caused an earthquake strong enough to split California off into the ocean. “Fucking hell, Connor. Take your boyfriend into the damn theater. I’ll hold down the fort.”
Connor blinked, his mouth falling open. “Are you--?”
“Go,” she ordered.
So, they went.
As predicted, the entire theater was unoccupied, the black and whtie projection flickering over a crowd of empty seats. Connor took Kevin by the hand and led him to the middle row, sinking down into the center seats.
“What, no popcorn?” Kevin asked, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Some date you are.”
“I will quite literally never be eating popcorn again, thank you,” Connor responded, provoking a genuine laugh from Kevin. It was his favorite sound in the world.
“Have you ever seen this movie?” Kevin asked, reclaiming the grasp on Connor’s hand.
“Only the remake,” Connor said. “I was never one for black and white movies.”
“We can always hop over to the Minions Christmas Spectacular, if that’s more your speed?” Kevin said earnestly, mischief sparkling behind his eyes.
“Better yet,” Connor smiled, leaning in to cradle his face in his hand once again, his lips hovering just over Kevin’s, “we don’t watch either of them.”
Kevin seemed to be on board with that plan.