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"So, I think we're good to go here," Patrick glanced over at his husband and then at the neat assortment of goodies on the coffee table. "Drinks, popcorn, Christmas cookies, courtesy of Jocelyn..." Shrugging, he plopped down on their newly acquired Italian leather sofa (how he let David talk him into that, he'd never know) and grabbed the remote before it got buried underneath the economy sized bag of Twizzlers. "You ready?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure."
David's thin smile was utterly unconvincing and Patrick sighed. He knew that look, knew what it meant when David tugged on the sleeves of his sweater, his eyebrow arching to the left. It didn't take a detective to conclude something was amiss and though he probably was able to pick up on his line of thinking better than most people, it would have been painfully obvious to a stranger that he was quietly dissatisfied.
Marriage had mellowed some of his sarcastic nature, if only slightly, tempered the caustic remarks and the eye rolling that made him who he was. The fact that David was fully cognizant that he did not need to tone any of himself down and still, he chose to, tried harder to be diplomatic was just about the sweetest, most charitable thing that Patrick had witnessed.
Not that he would ever tell David as much.
"Okay," he grazed a knee, "I'll bite. What's wrong?"
David waved him away. "It's truly nothing."
There was that watery smile again and this time, he wasn't going to drop it for the sake of peace. "You don't have to still do that, you know."
"Do what?"
The befuddled expression he made whenever he attempted to feign a lack of comprehension was adorable, Patrick would give him that, but he would not be swayed.
"Pretend like nothing's bothering you, just to avoid conflict with me. I see you out there, Mr. Rose-Brewer. And I love you for it."
Grabbing David's chin, Patrick planted a soft kiss on lips poised to reply, touching their foreheads together. "But you can tell me anything, David. I promise."
He could see the wheels turning, the brief hesitation before David heaved a resigned sigh, fixing his gaze on Patrick.
"Who am I to ruin our first married Christmas?"
It was off-handed, but Patrick could immediately detect the earnestness. "David," he began, drawing an arm around his shoulders, "c'mon. You aren't gonna ruin anything."
"You don't know that."
He smiled, kissing the top of his head, a hand running soothingly up and down his upper back. "I do because I know you, alright? Please...just tell me."
David nodded, gently pushing away, clearing his throat once and then twice. "Okay. Well. The thing is," his dark eyes bore into Patrick's, "Die Hard isn't a Christmas movie."
The relief flooded in, taking up residence in the basin of his stomach. "That's what you were afraid to let me know? Honey, you could have just said you didn't wanna watch it. It would have been totally fine."
"You were so excited about it, though. Your mouth did that little twitchy thing it always does when you're happy...like a kitten. How could I dash all your hopes like that?" David took his hand, "and isn't marriage all about compromise? I agree to watch the gratuitous violence and you agree to have Sauvignon Blanc with Skittles and cheese curls."
"And I love that we're both willing to go to those lengths to make each other happy. Truly I am." He picked up their intertwined fingers, laying a kiss on David's knuckles. "But you've been compromising much more than I have lately. It's kind of...I dunno, like you're being careful."
At this confession, David's expression grew panicked and he grabbed for a Twizzler, chewing on it manically before speaking. "I don't---I guess---it's just that everything is good right now. And it's kind of difficult to believe I deserve it."
David making himself so open and vulnerable to him, especially given how he wasn't always comfortable with doing so, hadn't grown up doing so, reminded Patrick just how goddamned much he adored him.
"You," Patrick took him into his embrace, "deserve everything. And we deserve this," he gestured to their surroundings; the cozy living room, decorated with David's flair, the tall spruce in the corner that twinkled with its white lights and ornaments they'd carefully chosen together, the picture window where they could observe the light snow that had just begun to fall. Their little cottage, their first home together. "All of it, David. We deserve to be happy. There's no one on this planet," he emphasized his point with a kiss pressed to his forehead, to the scruff of his cheek, "who makes me happier than you."
David's eyes grew wet and he captured Patrick's lips with his own in a sweet kiss, settling against him, head in the crook of his neck. For a minute, they were content with the silence.
"I love you," Patrick spoke into David's hair. "I love everything about you."
"I love you, too," David replied dreamily, lids slipping closed. "Even if you have questionable taste in certain instances."
There was the David he knew and loved.
"Mmm," he caressed his husband's jawline tenderly, "and just for the record? Totally a Christmas movie."
"Um," David bit his lip, "I think now is the time to really clarify that definition."
"Takes place at Christmas, check." He fell quiet, thinking. "Which, actually, is the only qualification one needs to make it a Christmas movie. Anyway," he lifted the popcorn bowl from the coffee table, "it's a classic, David. You'll love it. And hey, afterwards, we can watch something more traditional. Your pick, okay?"
David took a long sip of his wine, sighing resignedly (a little too resignedly, Patrick observed). "I can give it a chance. No promises, though."
Patrick reaches out to touch his cheek."Then that's all I ask."
For all of his hesitation, it didn't take more than the first twenty minutes for David to completely engage; leaning forward on the sofa, his attention on the flat screen totally rapt, munching nervously on the popcorn that Patrick had situated to rest in between them. Whether it was the magic of Bruce Willis, all lean, sweaty muscle or he was secretly an action movie fan, Patrick couldn't pinpoint but whatever it was, seeing David into it was the cutest sight in the universe and he'd have been lying if he said it wasn't a big turn on, too.
When it was finally over and David had stress eaten his way through an entire king sized package of Skittles, half the Twizzlers, and nearly all their popcorn, Patrick turned to him.
"So," he said, keeping his tone deliberately casual, "what did you think?"
He could see David desperately attempt to keep from admitting that he actually might have been wrong and he gave a nonchalant shrug. "It wasn't bad. Better than I thought it was going to be."
"Hey, I'll take it," Patrick grinned, biting into a candy cane sugar cookie. "Okay, what's fair is fair. Your turn."
Internally, he searched his brain for David's potential choices. A musical, maybe "White Christmas"? He couldn't see his husband going for classic fare, like "It's a Wonderful Life", somehow. "The Holiday" or "Love, Actually" seemed more likely choices, being romantic comedies and while he didn't have anything against them, per say, the super contrived plots weren't exactly his favorite, either.
Still, a deal was a deal and he looked to David, remote in hand, waiting to be instructed on what to put on.
"Promise you won't laugh at me?"
"I promise." He tapered down a burgeoning smile.
"Elf."
Patrick blinked.
"You know...Will Ferrell?" David stroked his chin, ducking his head. "I know...an unexpected choice for me. But it makes me happy. My family wasn't big into Christmas, you know that. So, I'd watch this movie and it would lift my spirits, I guess."
Patrick's heart just about melted in its cavity.
"Hey," he caught David's jawline in between two fingers, eyes meeting his, "I would never laugh at you. That's just about the sweetest thing I've ever heard. But don't worry, I won't let it get around."
David laughed shyly, rolling his eyes for good measure. "I have a reputation to uphold, after all."
"Of course." He found the movie in their digital collection, pressing play. "Wanna know something? It makes me really happy, too."
The opening credits began and David settled back against him cozily, Patrick pulling a cashmere throw over them. It was warm and familiar, as though they'd been doing this for years and he could not help but allow a contented sigh to escape.
"What is it?" David peered at him, "you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Patrick swallowed against the golf ball that had suddenly formed in his throat. "I'm just---this is perfect."
And he did not have to say anything else.
David smiled, tugging him closer. "I know exactly what you mean."
I've got more, more, more, more,
more than I asked for;
more, more, more than I asked for;
silver bells are ringing in the sky...
I've got more, more, more, more,
more than I asked for;
more, more, more than I asked for...
Christmas time came just in time,
Christmas time came just in time,
Christmas time came just in time tonight..