Work Text:
Martin looked out at the passing houses, his breath fogging up the glass. The streets were quiet this evening, and all that could be heard was the soft hum of classical music coming from the car radio. It hadn’t always been his station of choice, but Jon once told him he found it calming to drive to, and since then Martin had found it growing on him.
His thumb absently brushed the lid of the floral flask that sat warmly in his gloved hands. He lifted it to take a sip and was surprised to discover it was filled with hot chocolate. He turned to Jon, who sat in the driver’s seat smiling into his knitted scarf, pleased with himself.
“You still haven’t said where we’re going.”
“It’s a surprise!” he said excitedly. God, he loved Jon’s goofy, excited voice. Before they started dating, Martin hadn’t even known it existed, but in the last year he’d been treated to it more frequently. It was a sound he wouldn’t tire of. “We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
Where it was, Martin still couldn’t fathom. They weren’t too far from home, and while Martin was still familiarising himself with the neighbourhood, he couldn’t imagine what their suburban town had to offer that had Jon so secretive.
Jon turned the car into a small road and pulled over. Martin refrained from asking questions as they stepped out into the frosty evening. The final remnants of daylight were finally edging their way into darkness. The road was lined with tidy unassuming houses, not so different from their own.
“Jon…”
Jon reached out a gloved hand, which Martin took in his. “Wait for it.”
There was a flicker, and then the street was filled with light.
The houses were individually decorated with snowflakes and icicles, sleighs and reindeer adorning the rooftops. All shrouded in a warm glow.
It was beautiful.
“I was driving past here a few nights ago, and I had to show you.”
Martin turned so they were facing each other. “It’s lovely, Jon, thank you.”
They began to walk side by side down the quiet street, Jon stopping to point out some of the more garish decorations. Martin smiled into his hot chocolate.
They passed a bench and Martin pulled Jon over. They sat down.
“You said you and your gran didn’t really do Christmas.”
“I know. And I know you didn’t really either. But I thought maybe this could be a new tradition, just for us.”
Martin rested his head on Jon’s shoulder. “I’d like that. A lot.”