Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

December 10

Paul has developed a talent over the years for smiling and acting relaxed, even excited, even though internally he's nearly at the end of his rope.

"Everyone, please!" He claps his hands together in a vain attempt to get their attention. About half of them look up while the rest continue chattering. "I know we're all excited to get out of here and get home for the holidays, and we can do that as soon as we finish cleaning up our lab stations. Carefully." 

One student gives him a thumbs up. "We gotchu, Dr. Stamets!" He fumbles the graduated cylinder he's holding in his excitement, catches it with his fingertips just in time. "I got it! We're good!"

Paul breathes out slowly, willing his muscles to relax. It’s been a very long day, in a very long week. Ten more minutes and the semester would be officially over. Well, except for grading final exams. And entering grades in the system. And chasing down students with missing assignments. And his own research, which is never-ending. And, and, and...

Paul reins his mind in as it runs away. Focus on the next ten minutes. In ten minutes, he can go home.

There’s a thunk and an “oh shit!” from somewhere in the back of the room, thankfully not accompanied by a crunch of broken glass. 

He is so ready to go home.

"Hey." Marco sidles up next to him. "You're coming to James and Phillip's party later, yes?"

"Of course," Paul mutters. "Couldn't miss it if I tried. Every queer in a ten-mile radius gets sucked into that house party somehow."

"You going with Hugh?"

"Yes. And my boyfriend."

Marco delicately arches an eyebrow, making a show of it. "Boyfriend? Did you say boyfriend? How long has it been?"

Paul rolls his eyes. "Three months, twenty-two days."

"And how many hours? Minutes? Seconds?"

"Ha-ha."

"Is this the longest relationship Paul's ever been in? Shall I call the Guinness Book of Paul Records?"

"Shut up."

"Okay, fine, I'll change the subject," he smirks. "Did your mycology course get approved?"

Paul glowers at him. "You know the answer to that. I know you know the answer to that. You're just asking to irritate me."

"Someone thinks highly of himself," Marco shrugs.

"Of course it wasn't approved. Again. Because they said it wouldn't generate enough interest. Again. Even though they won't even let me try to generate interest —

"Because no twenty-year-old wants to spend three months learning about mushrooms when they could take literally any other class," Marco interjects.

"I did! I spent years learning about fungi!"

"Well, unlike you, most twenty-somethings have a life."

"Thanks for that."

Paul glances at the clock and realizes with a start that it's two minutes past time to go. "Okay!" he claps his hands again. "You all are officially free to go — thank you for a wonderful semester and know you can send me an email if you need anything!" He raises his voice over the din of students flooding out of the lab, but it doesn't seem to reach most of them all the same.

"Thanks Dr. Stamets!"

"Have a good holiday Doc!"

"Dr. S!" says a voice at his elbow.

"Hi!” He whirls around. It’s his favorite lab group, though he’d never admit it to them — the little knot of students who sit in the front row of his lectures and always raise their hands to answer questions. 

“How have your finals been going?”

"Horrible,” Pooja grimaces, while her lab group nods in agreement. Paul is sure that means they’ll all ace their exams. Or at least his exam, anyway.

"We just wanted to say...” Rashad hesitates. “Like, this was our favorite class this semester, and we think you're awesome, and thank you." The words tumble out of him all at once, and everyone else's words pile on top of his.

"Totally, this was great."

"I learned a whole lot, thank you."

"You're so cool," Meena whispers, staring hastily down at their shoes.

"Oh, well..." Paul feels his heart speed up. "Thank you all for doing such great work and asking such great questions and... being such great students!"

"We're all taking your genetic engineering and society class next semester!" Sylvie adds.

"Great! That's great! Well, then I will see you... then! Happy holidays y'all." 

He gives them a little wave as they head toward the door. "Bye Marco!" one of them calls on the way out.

"Hmph." Marco shakes his head. "They like you better than me."

"I'm sure that's not true," Paul says automatically, even though he knows it is.

Marco rolls his eyes. "Of course it's true. Though I can't imagine why, that whole interaction was a disaster.”

“I thought it went —”

“Great?” Marco smirks. “Do you know how to talk to people? Are all academics just pale asocial robots?"

"You're well on your way to becoming an asocial robot academic yourself, so watch it," Paul shoots back. "You know there's still time for me to request some fresh-faced twenty-five-year-old for next semester and have you TA for Brighton's cancer class instead."

"Geez, all right," Marco backs away, hands in the air. "I'll be good. See you tonight?"

"Yeah, see you. Don't forget we're meeting at 10 AM sharp Monday!"

"You got it, boss!" Marco gives him a mock salute before backing out the door.

Paul walks around one more time, straightening chairs, checking that everything is in its proper place. Tomorrow he’ll be back to take stock, see what needs to be reordered for the spring semester, and then he’ll be grading final exams, making last-minute changes to his labs for intro bio part two, finding articles for genetic engineering and society…

He shakes his head to clear it. Semesters come and go in a blink. He can’t spend the time he has in between dwelling on the past or the future. He’ll get home, make some tea, get ready for the party tonight, and pretty soon he’ll be out of here altogether…

By the time he turns off the light and locks the door behind him, his mind is already far away, waiting for him at home.

***

“Ooh, look at you, you’re looking perkier today!"

Hugh smiles to himself as he hangs his coat up. Paul must not realize he’s home — the sound of him cooing to his plants in the next room drifts into the hallway.

“And look at those gorgeous new leaves! You look radiant, my dear.”

Paul knows by now that Hugh knows all about the talking-to-the-plants thing. Hugh knows he’s expressed to him before how endearing he finds it. For many years, in fact. And still, Paul insists on pretending otherwise.

Which, Hugh thinks, is also incredibly endearing.

"Excited that I'm finally in a good relationship, are we? Me too. I don’t want to jinx it... but I think this is the one.”

Hugh pads quietly down the hall, not wanting to interrupt the moment. He takes a few careful steps into the sitting room to see Paul at the window with his little spray bottle, frowning at drooping leaves.

"No, don't act like that, all sulky — of course I won't forget you! My first love!"

Hugh tries and fails to suppress a chuckle — he can't help it. It turns into a full laugh as Paul stiffens, whirls around to face him.

"How long have you been there?" He shakes the spray bottle at him, accusing.

"Long enough," he teases. "Zelda acting out again?" 

Paul's shoulders relax. "Ugh, yes. She's such a drama queen."

"After everything you've done for her," Hugh tuts, falling into his armchair. The weight of the day immediately sinks into him, exhaustion seeping into his bones, turning his limbs to lead. 

"No no! Don't sit down yet!”

“Too late,” Hugh murmurs as his eyes fall closed. “I’m never getting up again.”

”You," he hears Paul shake the spray bottle threateningly at him, "need to get ready for the party! We should be there in half an hour."

Hugh groans, sinking further into the chair. "I'm so tired. I had fifty patients today!"

"In eight hours?"

"And I spent the other two hours on paperwork —

"How is that even possible? How is that even legal?"

"So, I'm practically dead. I’m a doctor, I would know if I was dead."

"Okay, I get it, you’re exhausted, and that is exactly why you deserve to collapse into one of James and Phillip's luxurious couches, bathed in twinkly lights and sappy Christmas music, and drink your troubles away with peppermint-flavored alcohol!"

Hugh pulls his eyes open with effort. "I mean you're going with your new boyfriend, aren't you?” he whines. “Why do I have to come?"

"Because Jake can't come until later, I told you!" Paul waves the spray bottle around. "We've been over this, he has meetings until eight!"

"That's not exactly a reason for me to come with you,” Hugh mutters. “Why not just spend a couple hours relaxing at home with me, then meet Jake at the party later?"

Paul pauses. "Okay, I hadn't thought of that," he admits, frowning. "But no, I don't accept that. This isn't just about me, I'm thinking of you too! Look..."

He sets the spray bottle down on the windowsill and pads over, kneeling in front of Hugh's chair. "It's your day off tomorrow. It's the weekend. You've been working practically non-stop all year. You never get to unwind, or let loose, or any of that."

"I'm taking an actual vacation soon —

Paul plows on, ignoring him. "Whenever you get any time off, you just come straight home and drop dead. So," he puts a hand on Hugh's knee, shaking him gently. "Please, my dear friend, come out with me tonight. Let loose, get tipsy, enjoy yourself. Then tomorrow, you can sleep in, and you and I can marathon cheesy Christmas movies for the rest of the day. Okay?"

Hugh feels wide awake now. He looks down at the little, hopeful smile on Paul's face, those wide, earnest eyes. Now he's just playing dirty. He should know by now that there's no way Hugh could ever say no to that face.

He gives in.

"I don't have a holiday sweater," he says softly.

Paul grins, springs to his feet. "Yes, you do! Because I knew you'd need one."

He disappears into his bedroom and reappears in a moment to throw something soft at his face before disappearing again. It's a dark green sweater with a detailed silver snowflake across the chest.

Paul reappears in cranberry red with a gold Christmas tree, hands tucked into the pocket of his best jeans. He nods at the sweater in Hugh's hands. "It's good, right?"

Hugh shakes his head fondly. "You officially know me too well."

Paul claps his hands together. "Get changed. We're leaving in ten."

***

Hugh finds Tracy — or rather, Tracy finds him — on the fringes of the crowd. 

“You look like a lost puppy,” she greets him, yelling over the music and chatter.

“Hi Tracy, it’s so nice to see you too, I love your sweater,” Hugh deadpans.

“Yeah yeah, nice sweater, brings out your eyes, you’re as handsome as ever. Didn’t you come here with Paul?” She looks around as though he's hiding him behind his back.

“Yes, I came here with Paul. And now I’m getting him a drink. See?” He holds up a second glass of pink candy-cane concoction, taking a sip of his own. It’s syrupy and almost medicinal and leaves an artificial sweetness on the back of his tongue.

“Are you planning on delivering that drink to him?” Tracy shouts over a chorus of laughter.

“Eventually,” he yells back.

Hugh scans the dense crowd, unease prickling on the back of his neck. It’s a large room in an even larger house — large enough for six giant white Christmas trees, one for each corner and two flanking the front doors — and somehow it’s still packed nearly to bursting with people. Last he checked, somewhere on the other side of that mess is Paul, but he’s not too keen on trying to get to him just yet.

"How is Paul, anyway?"

"He's good," Hugh shrugs. "I think he's been feeling down about work lately, but he's leaving for New Hampshire next week, so he's excited about that."

"Seeing his family?"

"Yeah. I can tell he really misses them. He always gets a little sad around this time of year," he sighs. "I think coming here tonight has kind of cheered him up, though."

“Well, go on, then,” Tracy gives him a little shove. “Go spend time with him. Isn’t that why he brought you here?”

“He promised I could relax on a luxurious couch, actually. Which,” he cranes his neck to find it in the middle of the room, “is currently occupied.” He leans back against the wall with a sigh. “And he’s meeting his boyfriend later. He doesn’t need me to spend time with him.”

“What? Boo,” Tracy pouts. “What boyfriend? He dragged you here and now he’s ditching you for this boyfriend?”

“He didn’t drag me here, he persuaded me,” Hugh insists. He’s still not entirely sure how Paul made this sound like a good idea to him — but his tired brain would agree with anything Paul said. 

“Okay, so he persuaded you,” Tracy rolls her eyes, “and now he’s not gonna spend time with you?”

“Don’t, come on,” Hugh laughs, “We’re all gonna spend time together, okay? Paul's really happy about Jake! He sounds like a great guy.”

“Wait, have you not met him?”

“Well, it’s only been three months —

“Three months?” That long and he hasn’t introduced you yet?”

“Oh, stop,” Hugh waves a hand at her incredulous face. “I’ll meet him tonight, won’t I? He’s some kind of journalist, I think, and he works irregular hours and he's constantly busy. But he loves what he does and he’s really dedicated to his job. He’s a very passionate person.”

Tracy narrows her eyes. “You know a suspicious amount of specific information about this man you’ve never met.”

“Well Paul’s told me all about him, of course. He talks about him all the time. I’m glad I’m finally getting to meet him. He really likes him, it’s been nice to see Paul so excited about a guy.”

Tracy’s face softens. She gives him that look he's come to think of as her "oh, honey" look — that small, knowing, almost pitying smile, usually accompanied by an "oh, honey."

“What’s that look for?” Hugh chuckles. "What did I say?"

Tracy opens her mouth to say something but seems to think better of it. “Tell you what,” she says instead, still smiling softly at him. “You go find Paul. I’ll get us one of those couches for later.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Hugh begins, but she’s already shouldering her way through the crowd. 

“Move!” he hears her yell, “Get up! Sitting gives you ass wrinkles, I’m a doctor, I should know. Go on!”

“Thank you!” Hugh calls after her, laughing. The crowd swallows her up an instant later. 

Hugh takes another sip of his drink and feels the tension in his chest loosen a little bit. He starts to make his slow way around the crowd in the middle of the room, sticking to the wall, weaving around little tables and the occasional drunk make-out session in a shadowy corner. He lets out a slow breath, scanning the room — and there’s Paul, over by one of the Christmas trees near the front door, talking to their hosts. 

“Hey!” Hugh calls as he approaches. “I got you a drink.”

Paul turns to meet him, a drink in each hand. “Oh! Hi! I got you a drink!”

Of course he did. Hugh laughs with him and hands the other drink to Phillip instead.

“Aww. How sweet. I wish I had a best friend like that.” Phillip beams at the two of them.

“You have me, sweetheart,” James pouts.

“And I don't see you fetching me drinks, do I love?” 

“I could!”

“Hey y’all.” Marco appears at Paul’s side in a Santa hat. “Hugh! Good to see you!” He claps Hugh on the back, hard enough that Hugh's drink sloshes dangerously in its glass.

“Ah, Hey Marco!” Hugh wishes he hadn't given his other drink away. If he's spending the night with Marco, he’ll need more than one.

“So,” Marco turns to Paul, “when do I get to meet the new man?”

Paul hands him his other drink and pulls out his phone. “He’ll be here soon.”

“He’s not imaginary, is he?” Marco chuckles at his own joke.

Even in the dim light, Hugh can see Paul flush pink. Irritation flares in his chest.

"He's a journalist" Hugh jumps in as Paul starts to open his mouth. "He works irregular hours, so he's just getting off work now."

"He's very passionate about what he does," Paul adds, shooting Hugh a grateful glance.

"I see." Marco looks from Paul to Hugh, then back to Paul. "If only we could all be so lucky," he tuts, shaking his head. "Speaking of, how's your research coming?"

"Ugh, don't ask!" Paul deflects, turning pinker. 

"What's your current project again? Something about the medicinal effects of mushrooms?"

"He said don't ask," Hugh mutters, but Paul and Marco don't hear him.

"Yeah, something like that.” Hugh can hear the nerves in Paul’s slight laugh. "It's going okay, I think, I — oh!" Paul starts beside Hugh as the doors open. "That's him! He's here!"

“Convenient,” Marco snorts.

Hugh turns to the door to see a man in a blue sweater, dark brown hair falling over his forehead. He spots Paul and smiles and breaks into a little jog on his way over to them.

"Hey, you!" Hugh finds himself instinctively taking a step back as Paul steps forward to greet the man with a kiss on the cheek. "Everyone, this is Jake!"

“Okay, I’d let him interview me or whatever any time,” Hugh hears James mutter. Phillip swats at his arm, giggling.

"Hi everyone! So sorry I'm late, babe, work has been crazy this whole week..."

His words fade as Hugh takes another step back without thinking until he's lingering on the fringes of their little group. He takes another sip of his drink and watches Paul's face, soft and shining as he looks at Jake. He's fully captivated by whatever story he's telling, his eyes wide and practically full of stars.

Paul laughs aloud at something Jake says and Hugh's gaze wanders to Marco, Phillip, and James, who are all looking right back at him, sharp-eyed like cats about to pounce. Marco opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it is, Hugh suddenly realizes he doesn't need to know.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Hugh mutters, and he turns away before he knows whether Paul heard him, plunging straight into the crowd. Paul can introduce him later, Hugh thinks, fighting his way over to the couches. He's tired. He just needs to sit down for a little while. Yes, he thinks, that must be why he suddenly isn't feeling up to conversation.

He finds his way to the couches and to Tracy, who mercifully has her feet propped up, saving a spot for him. He sets his drink down on a side table and collapses gratefully beside her. 

"Did you meet Paul's new man?"

"He's here, yeah," Hugh sighs, sinking into the cushions. It is, indeed, a luxurious couch, stacked with soft pillows. "I'll talk to him some other time, though. I'm beat.” 

"Yeah," Tracy says. He looks over to see her eyeing him knowingly, wearing that same small smile she'd given him earlier.

"Stop that," he mutters, grabbing a pillow to half-heartedly throw at her. "Stop making that face. Why is everyone making that face at me?"

Tracy sighs. "Nothing. You look like you need a drink.”

***

“I don’t know where Hugh went,” Paul mutters again, craning his neck to scan for any sign of him. No such luck — the vast room is now thick with people moving like a single organism — an undulating octopus, Paul thinks, smiling to himself — if the octopus could also scream-sing along to Mariah Carey.

“What are you thinking about?” Jake nudges his shoulder.

“That octopuses have many talents.” Paul turns to smile at an amused Jake. “And that I can’t find Hugh. I was hoping to introduce you tonight.”

“Are you always thinking about octopuses?” 

“Aren’t you?”

Jake laughs, brushing against Paul’s shoulder again. They’ve found a tall table at the back of the room and pulled their stools to one side of it, so they can sit beside each other and lean against the wall.

“He might be in the middle of all that,” Jake suggests, waving vaguely at the crowd.

“Nah. Marco definitely is by now,” Paul chuckles, “but Hugh doesn’t like being in huge crowds like that.”

“Ah,” Jake nods.

“I feel kind of bad about badgering him to come tonight,” Paul adds. The thought occurs to him that Hugh might have just gone home, and he scans the crowd again with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Why did you want him to come?” Jake asks gently.

“Well, he’s a doctor, I’ve told you he’s a doctor, right?”

“You have,” Jake smiles.

“And he works at this urgent care clinic — that I think is super understaffed but he insists is normal — and he’s super overworked, he works ten-hour shifts and today he had fifty patients in eight hours —

“What were the other two hours?”

“Paperwork,” Paul groans, “which is just — ugh, you know?”

“I know, I hate paperwork.”

“And it’s his day off tomorrow, so I thought he could use a night out. I didn’t want him to sit at home alone all night. But I think he might’ve preferred that to all this...” he gestures at the crowd again, “and now I feel bad. I feel like I pressured him.” Was there a sign, earlier today, that he missed? Did Hugh’s smile when he finally agreed to come actually reach his eyes? Paul can’t remember — his stomach sinks even further.

“Well,” Jake says, taking Paul’s hand, meeting his eyes. “To me, a totally neutral party, it sounds like you were trying to do something nice for a friend you really care about.”

“I don’t think my boyfriend is exactly a neutral party,” Paul teases, stroking his thumb over Jake’s knuckles.

“Okay, I’m maybe a little biased,” Jake grins, “given that I really really like you. But Hugh wouldn’t have agreed to come if he absolutely didn’t want to.”

He’s probably right. And very handsome while he’s at it, with that steady gaze of his, like he can see into Paul’s mind and will it to calm down. “You’re probably right,” Paul sighs, squeezing Jake’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he adds after a moment.

“For what?” 

“For...” Paul wrinkles his nose, “my brain. And my... thinking. Overthinking. I overthink everything.”

“I happen to really like your brain,” Jake says softly. “And...” He brings his other hand up to Paul’s cheek. “The attached face isn’t so bad either.”

He leans in, and Paul’s eyes slide closed as their lips meet. 

“Come home with me,” he whispers as they break apart. 

His eyes fly open a second later as he realizes what he just said.

“I mean, not now. I mean yes, now, if you want to, but I — sorry, I meant — I meant for the holidays,” he stammers, looking down at the table. 

“Wow,” he hears Jake say, “really?”

“Yes. Yes!” Paul forces himself to look back up at Jake, who’s smiling at him, amused again. “Yes, please, come to New Hampshire with me. I’m visiting my family for ten days, and they’ll be so excited — and I’m so excited — that I’m finally not the single one.”

“The single one?”

“Yep,” Paul sighs, “that’s me. Perpetually. Every holiday season. My two older sisters are married, my younger sister just started dating two years ago and has still had someone to bring home every year, and even my youngest sibling has a steady relationship. And they’re in high school!”

“So you’re always the odd one out.”

“Every damn year,” Paul shakes his head. “And every year my family looks at me like I’m this problem they have to solve, because I’m always alone. Or even worse, I’ve just had a bad breakup, and they all give me the sympathy eyes all Christmas.”

“Ouch,” Jake laughs. “Not the sympathy eyes.”

“I haven’t said anything to them yet, but... This year, I’m finally in... well, a good relationship. A great one, in fact.”

“Oh? With whom?” Jake teases.

“You, of course.” Paul feels his ears growing hot, but he holds Jake’s gaze anyway. “Side note, I love that you use the proper form of “who.” I can’t wait to show you off to my family. Please come home with me.”

“Proper grammar is definitely sexy,” Jake muses. 

“Please,” Paul says again, taking Jake’s other hand, pulling them both to his chest. “Come home with me.”

“I will,” Jake murmurs, pulling their hands back towards him, placing a soft kiss on Paul’s knuckles. “I’d love to.”

“Great,” Paul whispers, leaning in —

An alert blares and they both jump, Jake dropping Paul’s hands to scramble for his phone.

“Ah, shit,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Work emergency. I have to go, I’m so sorry —

“No, no! Go, it’s okay! Go make more money so you can buy a plane ticket!”

Jake gives Paul a quick kiss on the cheek, gives him a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach his apologetic eyes. He hurries away, disappearing in an instant.

Paul takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. He just asked Jake to come home for the holidays with him. He just did that. He still can't quite figure out what just came over him.

Well, actually he can — Jake came over him. Jake, with his kind eyes and his easy smile. Jake, who seemed genuinely happy to be there with him. Jake listening patiently and attentively as he rambled on about his family, about Hugh —

Oh, shit.

Paul fishes for his own phone and checks the time to see that it’s 10:30 PM and he has one text from Hugh, from an hour ago.

Hey, I’m over on the couch with Tracy. Had to sit down. Sorry. 

“Oh, good,” Paul breathes, his chest relaxing. So Hugh hadn’t left after all. 

He leaves his empty glass on the table, pushes through the crowd in search of him. He dodges Marco with a little wave and makes for the oasis at the center of the chaos.

Two enormous sectional couches form a square around an expensive-looking glass coffee table, and that's where Paul finds Hugh, snuggled into a corner seat, surrounded by a small mountain of pillows, laughing at something Tracy just said. He looks relaxed, lighter, like some of the worries of the day have been lifted off his shoulders. Paul takes in his genuine smile — stretched all the way across his face, complete with those tiny crinkles around his tired eyes — with relief. He looks like he's been having a good time.

"Hey there. Long time no see," Paul jokes as he settles into the spot beside Hugh.

Hugh shoves a pillow into his arms in greeting. "Feel this. It's so soft. It's soooo soft."

"Okay," Paul laughs, clutching the pillow to his chest. It is incredibly soft. "Are we tipsy or tired?"

"Both!" Hugh exclaims as Tracy says, "Probably both. He only had two of those peppermint things, though."

"They tasted like cough syrup," Hugh pulls a face. "Where's your man? Where'd Jake go?"

"He left, he had an urgent work thing."

"Boooo." Hugh gives him a huge thumbs down, Tracy nodding in agreement.

"Well I am glad to see you letting loose tonight," Paul laughs as Hugh kicks his legs up onto his lap. "I'm sorry you didn't get to meet him. Maybe let's do lunch or something next week?"

"Sure!" Hugh crosses his legs in Paul's lap and burrows further into his mound of pillows. "I was just telling Tracy, I do really want to meet him. I'm happy for you both," he says with a soft smile on his face. He’s gazing at Paul, but his eyes are far away. He looks almost wistful.

Before Paul can respond, Hugh grins even bigger, because that’s somehow possible, and shoves another pillow in Paul’s face. “Happy Christmas!”

"Thank you, love," Paul murmurs, patting his shin awkwardly, smiling to himself. Hugh might be a little embarrassed in the morning, but Paul loves seeing this side of him. This is one of his favorite versions of Hugh, unburdened by exhaustion, uninhibited by the strict filter Paul knows he tries to keep on his thoughts. Letting loose and having fun.

He sighs and nestles further into the couch, his hands resting on Hugh's legs. He'll give it another hour before suggesting they head home. 

"What?" he snaps at Tracy, who looks like she's suppressing a laugh.

She looks at Hugh, then back at him, opens her mouth to say something, closes it again.

"Oh, nothing," she finally sighs, shaking her head at the pair of them.

Chapter Text

December 13

Paul takes a minute to warm his numb fingers around a hot mug of coffee. He hadn't anticipated the sudden drop in temperature — okay, maybe Hugh had warned him this morning to bring a jacket going shopping because it would be cold all day and he hadn't listened — but it's mercifully warm and cozy inside his favorite cafe, the air filled with the sounds of chattering customers and Christmas music and the smell of vanilla and sugar. He props his phone up against the napkin holder and brings the mug up to his lips while it rings.

"Paul?"

"Hey kiddo!" Paul beams as Adira's face appears on his screen.  "Is now a good time?"

"You know," they sigh, "that's the kind of thing you're supposed to ask over text before you FaceTime a person out of the blue."

"So... is it not a good time?"

"It's fine." The video shakes as they get up and flop onto their bed. "I was just studying. My last final's tomorrow." 

"So it's the perfect time for you to take a break and tell me what you want for Christmas!" He's sure he knows the answer already, but he wanted to ask just in case.

"Ooh," their eyes light up. "I've already compiled a list of books I want. I'll be emailing it out to the family shortly so y’all can coordinate, so be on the lookout for that. It's not imperative that I get all of them for Christmas, but between the four of you and Jo and Book — and possibly Hugh?" They raise an eyebrow.

"I'll ask," Paul chuckles, "I'm sure he'd love to." Of course, once again they want a dozen books for Christmas. A kid after his own heart.

"Great! Tell him thank you from me. If he agrees, that is," they hastily add. "But say hi to him from me anyway. Also, I’ve highlighted the books that are a priority. And try to maintain an even split between fiction and nonfiction.”

“I got it, I got it,” Paul laughs. 

“Thanks,” Adira grins. “I appreciate you all financing my growing library.”

“The perks of having four grown-up siblings with grown-up jobs," Paul shrugs. "Hey, speaking of —

“What should you get the other three grown-up siblings for Christmas?" Adira finishes. "Keyla wants a motorcycle, just warning you,” they chuckle as they roll onto their stomach. “I think Jo’s trying her best to talk her out of it, but you know how she is.”

“All too well,” Paul grumbles. Last year it was to go skydiving. Actual skydiving. He and Michael managed to talk her down to a family trip to one of those indoor skydiving places — which, to her credit, ended up being a lot of fun. “Thanks for the heads-up. Any ideas for the others?”

“Tilly was complaining about always running out of expo markers. She swears her kids steal them. You should get her a fuck-ton of expo markers so she can have her own secret stash.”

“Noted.” 

“And Michael, quote, “doesn’t want anything but to have her whole family home for Christmas,” Adira rolls their eyes, “so just get over here soon I guess.”

“I’ll be there before you know it.” Something in his chest twinges as they roll their eyes at him. Four days seems like forever all of a sudden.

“Hey," he remembers, "what about Gray? What should I get him? How is he by the way?”

Adira blushes. “He’s fine, and you don’t have to get him anything —

“Oh, please, he’s family! Even more so, now that you’re together," Paul sings the last word, laughing as Adira turns redder.

"Please stop."

"And," Paul ignores them, wiggling his eyebrows, "it's the first time he's spending Christmas with us, which is very exciting!"

Adira groans, covering their face with their other hand. “Stop being embarrassing.”

"Never," Paul grins. "What does he like? Aside from you, of course," he winks.

"Stop. Ugh." Paul can tell they're smiling behind their hand, though. "He also likes books. He likes history. And poetry. And Star Trek."

They hesitate, like they're debating whether to share more with him.

"... I'm knitting him a trans flag scarf with the Star Trek badge on it," they finally mumble.

"Cuuute!" Paul gasps. "That's fucking adorable, my heart might actually burst." 

"Shut up." They lower their hand, fully grinning now.

"Okay, okay," Paul laughs. "I'll change the subject. How's school been?"

They talk for ten more minutes before Adira hands off their phone, and there's Joann's smiling face on his screen. "Hey, Paul. Keyla's downstairs, I'll take you to her." The video wobbles a bit and Paul catches glimpses of the tinsel wound around the banister as she descends the stairs.

"Hey, Jo. You've decorated already?"

"These have been here since Thanksgiving," she shrugs. "We put the tree up too, after dinner, when everyone was still there to help."

"Except me," he pouts. 

"Come home for Thanksgiving next time then," she says simply. Paul truly wishes he could. 

"We haven't put the lights up yet, though." There's Keyla's voice, and a second later she's onscreen, frowning at him from their kitchen. "You have a whipped cream mustache."

"Ah," he scrambles for a napkin, "thank you."

"Maybe you can help out with that when you get here. I would too, but some people refuse to let me climb onto the roof." She glares at Jo offscreen.

"I know you could do it, darling," comes Jo's voice, "but I'd like to err on the side of caution all the same. Give Hugh my best, Paul!" he hears her call from farther away.

"We just need to get you a harness and some bungee cord," Paul shrugs. "In case you fall. Simple fix."

"Now we're talking," Keyla grins. "Oh! If you're calling about Christmas presents, I want a motorcycle."

"So I hear," Paul laughs. 

"I am not joking."

"I completely believe you." And he does. "What about everyone else? What do you think they want?"

"Fuck if I know," she shrugs.

"Super helpful, thank you!"

They talk for a few more minutes as Keyla stirs something on the stove. Paul laments his job and Keyla rubs all the fun she and Jo are having with their thriving business in his face. It's been snowing on and off all week, she tells him, complaining about having to dig the car out of the driveway this morning. Paul rubs the sunshine and clear blue sky outside his window in her face in return. 

"I'll let you go handle that," he says as a timer beeps from somewhere in the kitchen. "I have to call Tilly and Michael still."

"Ugh, okay. I miss your stupid face," she whines. "Just get here already."

"I miss you too, K," Paul smiles. "See you soon."

"Oh! Tell Hugh I say hi and happy holidays!"

"Will do!"

They hang up a moment later and Paul sighs at his coffee. There'd be actual snow on the ground back home, and a real evergreen tree making their whole house smell like pine needles. He could be helping Keyla cook dinner, helping Adira study, or up on the roof with Book hanging up the lights. Instead, he's here, three thousand miles from his family.

He shakes his head to clear it. Four days will pass in a blink. He'll be home before he knows it. And in the meantime, there are two more people to call, and then plans to finalize with —

Oh! He forgot to tell them about Jake. Paul debates texting Keyla for a moment, but decides against it. If he tells Tilly and Michael he's bringing a surprise home for Christmas, Keyla and Adira will hear about it five minutes later anyway.

He hasn't told any of them about dating Jake yet. Gushing about his relationships to his family in the past has only ever ended badly for him. He thinks with a shudder about the guy who faked having cancer, remembering how awful it felt having to explain that to his family afterward.

Jake is different, though, wonderfully different, and almost four months into the relationship, at Christmas, seems like the perfect time to finally share him with his family. The thought makes his heart race, imagining the joy on his siblings' faces when he introduces him, imagining Jake wrapping presents and baking and decorating alongside them. He'd fit right in, Paul knows it.

The bells over the door chime again, breaking him out of his thoughts. He sighs as that perfect mental image fades away. Four days. He can make it four more days.

He gets up to order himself a croissant before calling Tilly.

"Hi, Paul," comes her tired voice a few minutes later.

"Tilly, where are you? It's all dark." Her face is faintly lit by the screen, but her surroundings are a faded, fuzzy gray.

"In my classroom," she sighs, "grading. The lights automatically turned off and I'm not in sensor range. It's not totally dark out yet, though, and I'm almost done."

"Sorry," Paul winces. "If I caught you at a bad time it's okay —

"No, no, I could use a break! I still have two whole classes' essay questions to grade."

"That doesn't sound like you're almost done," he frowns.

"Tell me why I assigned essay questions again?" Tilly groans. "Instead of giving them a hundred multiple-choice questions like a normal physics teacher would?"

"Because you're not a normal physics teacher," Paul says firmly. "You're an exceptional physics teacher. You challenge your students to think in a variety of ways and show them that what they're learning has significance in the real world."

That finally makes her smile a little. "Right. Thank you."

"Okay, I won't keep you, because I think you should go home. Where there's actual light. Take the papers home with you. Or take them to Keyla's and have her and Jo and Adira help you. Your students don't have to know."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tilly laughs. "But actually it's good you called. You kinda broke me out of my groove."

"Sorry," Paul says again.

"No, that's a good thing! You reminded me I wanted to go work on these at the cafe."

"Aah," Paul raises an eyebrow. "So you can see Airiam?" In the past couple months, he's heard all about Tilly's budding romance with the new server at the cafe by her school. From Michael, of course. Tilly goes bright red whenever he tries to talk to her about it.

"Possibly..." Tilly ducks her head. "She'll make sure I eat something and get home at a reasonable hour anyway."

"I love her already," Paul grins. "I can't wait to meet her. You are bringing her to Christmas dinner, right?"

"Well, I haven't invited her yet —

"Tilly!"

"Don't worry! I will, I promise."

"Good. And let me know what you want for Christmas!"

"Expo markers," she answers immediately. "A thousand expo markers. Or even better, an expo marker that never runs out of ink. An infinite expo marker!"

"I'll tell our theoretical physics department to get right on it," Paul laughs. "I'll let you go now —

"Wait! How are you? How's Hugh? I'm so sorry, we've been talking about my problems this whole time —

"Nonsense," Paul waves his hand. "I'm fine, Hugh's fine, and I promise we can discuss all of my problems at length when I get home. I'll even throw in some of Hugh's problems for us to discuss. Okay?"

"Okay," she giggles. "Can't wait."

"Now get out of there, go see Airiam. Bye, love."

"Bye! See you soon!"

Paul takes a huge bite of croissant, feeling suddenly hungry. He glances at the screen to see that it's almost 5 PM and he's at twenty-five percent battery. He should definitely get home before the sun goes down.

He takes a couple minutes to finish his croissant and the remainder of his coffee. Hopefully, his phone can withstand one last conversation. 

"Paul! Hi!" There's Michael's beaming face. Every time they video call it hits him how much he misses that smile.

"How are you?" she immediately asks. "How's work? How are your plants? How's Hugh?"

"Hi, Michael," Paul laughs. "I'm great, work is fine, the plants are mostly thriving, and Hugh would probably say he's doing well and thank you for asking, but I say he's overworked and exhausted and in desperate need of a break."

"Oh," Michael frowns. "Is he not taking a vacation this year?"

"No, he is. I'm really glad — he has two full weeks off! But that doesn't start until this weekend."

"Oh, so you're not gonna get to spend much time with him? That's a shame," Michael tuts.

"Well, we'll have a few days when I get back," Paul reassures her. "He's looking forward to a good staycation." As he says it, the image of Hugh alone in their apartment comes into his mind, bringing a little pang of guilt with it. 

"But anyway," he brushes the thought aside, "I called to ask what you want for Christmas. And don't say all you want is family and joy or whatever," he adds as she opens her mouth. "We know that. You know I love you and you know I'm not good at presents so please give me some concrete suggestions!"

"Alright, alright," Michael chuckles. "Get me something useful. A warm coat, good boots, kitchen stuff, that kind of thing. Or something I can eat. Some good chocolate. And the same goes for Book."

"Thank you! That's actually helpful!" Paul already has chocolates for everyone — and a couple boxes for himself, of course — in the bags by his feet. And those other suggestions he can totally work with. "Is Book around?"

"He's out on a house call," she says, glancing at the clock behind her. "I don't think he'll be back until dinner."

“Tell him I said hi, then. What about gifts for the others?" He grabs a pen from his pocket and a fresh napkin as Michael thinks. She always has good answers.

"Okay," Michael begins. "I know Adira sent out a book list, and we can get them some books from that, but I have another idea. I think we should get them a telescope."

"Oh. Wow." Paul shouldn't be as surprised as he is. Michael is by far the best at gifts. "That's actually perfect! They'd love that!"

"I know, right? And between the six of us, I think we could get them a really state-of-the-art one. We can talk details later, we don't have to split it evenly, and it might be worth waiting until they graduate high school if it's super expensive —

"No, no that's a great idea! I love it! I'll see if Hugh wants to chip in, maybe? He loves them, I'm sure he'd be happy to."

"Perfect," Michael beams again. "And get Tilly something nice for her classroom, not just more supplies."

"It seems she really needs expo markers," Paul chuckles. 

"We'll all get her expo markers," Michael laughs. "She'll have more than enough, I'm sure. But get her a cool poster or something for her to display, or something her students can play with."

"Good thinking." Paul scribbles a note to himself to search for "cool physics posters" later.

"And then I'm sure Keyla's told you she wants a motorcycle —

"Of course she has," Paul nods.

"It's not a bad request, honestly," Michael muses. "Yeah, they're dangerous, but she's smart and careful, despite her attitude sometimes," she laughs. "And it's not any more dangerous for her than it would be for most people."

"I suppose that's true," Paul concedes. He still can't shake the little spike of fear when he imagines his sister on a motorcycle. "But it's definitely not doable for Christmas."

"No, definitely not. You and I could get her and Jo matching leather jackets, though," she adds with a sly grin.

"Perfect!" Paul scrawls down "leather jackets" and underlines it twice.

"It leaves the possibility of a motorcycle in the future open, and it absolutely fits their aesthetic, both individually and as a couple." She's clearly thought about this in detail.

"How do they not already have matching leather jackets?"

"A huge oversight on their part," Michael nods sagely.

They look at each other, and a second later, they both burst out laughing. Paul can see a couple people staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't care. He's missed this too much.

"Thank you," he finally manages, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Thank you. You're very helpful, as always."

"Of course." She gives him a soft smile. "I miss you. Very much."

"I miss you too," Paul sighs. "I miss everyone. I miss the snow. I miss actual trees. I miss... being home."

"You know..." Michael begins, and Paul knows exactly what's coming, but he lets her say it anyway, the small part of him that really wants to hear it winning out.

"You could always move back home. We only get to see you once or twice a year now." She tilts her head a little, giving him that look of hers that makes him feel like she's staring right into his heart. He can feel it through the phone, from three thousand miles away. "Your home misses you too, Paul."

"I... I know. But I can't, I..." Paul shakes his head, stifles the thought. "So much of my life is here. My job, my best friend, my — oh!" he jumps. He'd totally forgotten. How had he totally forgotten?

"What?" Michael's piercing look morphs into a curious frown. "What is it?"

"I'm not just bringing me! I mean," Paul flounders. Hadn't he just been thinking about Jake? About telling Tilly and Michael? "I'm bringing a... surprise." He stops himself from saying more with effort, remembering just in time that they haven't finalized the details yet.

Michael, always astute, gets the hint anyway. "Is it a person? It's a person, isn't it? Aah!" she squeals, bringing her hand to her mouth. "Paul! I'm so happy for you!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Paul holds up his hands to stop her. "I can't say more, at least not now. That's why it's a surprise."

"Okay, okay," Michael beams. "I am happy for you, though. And for your surprise that may or may not be a person," she winks.

"Thank you," he says softly. "I'm... happy for me too."

"Good," Michael nods. "Good! I'll let you go now. I'm sure you have to get home. Give Hugh all my love!"

"I will," he smiles. "Love you!"

She blows him a kiss, and the call ends. Paul slumps back in his chair, closes his eyes, feeling drained all of a sudden. The energy that propelled him through over an hour of talking to his family suddenly leaves his body, leaving tension and faint cramps behind. He hears Hugh's voice in the back of his mind, reminding him to relax his shoulders, unclench his jaw, take slow, deep breaths. It's something Hugh taught him years and years ago, how to return to himself when his mind begins to run away, when a big wave of energy sweeps him off solid ground.

He opens his eyes to a buzz from his phone. His heart picks up again when he sees Jake's name.

Let's talk holiday plans tonight. Call me after 7? xx

Paul takes another deep breath, tries to compose himself as he taps out a reply to Jake, but he can't help it — his mind flashes back to that image of him and Jake opening presents beside the Christmas tree, surrounded by his family. Four days cannot pass quickly enough.

***

" — and then all of a sudden he was on the ground, screaming like I'd never heard before, clutching his leg and rolling around and all that! I was so scared! Turns out, he tore his ACL. That's something in your knee, right? Something to do with holding your knee in place or something like that? Anyway, he had to have surgery and he got this nasty-looking leg brace to wear for a while, and he's still got this scar on his leg but he's okay now, though my husband thinks he walks kinda funny — he'll be here soon, by the way, he called out of work so he could take her home and I don't have to miss my sister's baby shower, isn't that nice of him? But that's why I had the crutches, and lucky I did, and lucky I thought to grab them, isn't it?"

"That is lucky, Diane," Hugh interjects, resuming his careful wrapping of her kid’s ankle. It's taken him far too long — it's always hard to concentrate when his patients, or their parents in this case, get talkative. "And it's lucky this is just a sprain, but Anna will want to keep some weight off this foot for a little while. Okay, kiddo?" He pins the dressing in place and looks back up at the kid, smiling his brightest doctor smile. "You can use an ice pack to help with the swelling. Make sure to wrap it in a cloth, and hold it to your ankle for twenty minutes at a time, so about the length of one episode of Spongebob." He nods at Anna's t-shirt, earning a little smile from her in return. "And you can take Tylenol for the pain, have your parents help you with that, okay?"

"Okay," Anna says in a small voice. She seems to be feeling much better than when Hugh first walked into the exam room and she immediately burst into tears. "Thank you, mister doctor."

"You're very welcome," Hugh beams at her. "Thank you for being such a good patient!"

"Oh!" Mrs. Johnson jumps as her phone dings. "That'll be my husband! I can bring him back here, right?"

"Of course!"

"Great! Okay, I'll be back in two seconds, Anna-banana, okay? Daddy's here to take you home!"

She hurries out of the room, looking frazzled. His patients tend to be frazzled. Coming into Urgent Care isn't usually something they've planned to do. Hugh can only do his best to put them at ease and try to fix their problem.

"And in the meantime, I have a special prize for you!" Hugh turns to the cabinet behind him, rummages for the bag of stickers he knows he has somewhere. "Aha!" He finds it just as the door opens again. "Here it is —

He whirls around and freezes, sticker in hand. Mrs. Johnson is back with her husband. Anna's father.

It's Jake.

Jake as in Paul's Jake. The fact fails to register in Hugh's mind for a moment. He scrambles for any other explanation because surely, surely that cannot be Jake. Jake, the journalist boyfriend who Paul was so excited to bring home to his family this weekend... oh no. Oh, Paul. But that's definitely the same face. Unless he has an identical twin, Hugh thinks wildly, desperately —

"Hi," the man holds out his hand, a puzzled little frown on his face. "I'm Jake. You're Dr. Culber, yes?"

His heart sinks horribly. Fuck. Fuck.

Jake's frown deepens, and Hugh realizes he's still frozen in place, that his doctor smile must have slipped right off his face. He clears his throat, grasps the outstretched hand, possibly a little too hard. "Hi. Hi! Yes, I'm Dr. Culber." He tries to think of something to say to smooth over the awkward moment but decides it would be better to just pretend it didn't happen.

"Your daughter's been very brave today," he says instead, turning back to Anna to hand her the sticker. "It's a scratch-and-sniff," he tells her, and her face lights up. 

"Ooh! What does it smell like?"

"I'll leave that to you to find out," Hugh winks, hoping his doctor smile is still firmly in place. It's a strawberry, so it probably smells like strawberries, but Hugh suddenly wants these people out of here as quickly as possible.

"You can take the bandage off in a day and assess the swelling, let the foot breathe a bit. It should be okay in a day or two. If you put the bandage back on, be sure to wind it tight, but not too tight. Or you can just cover her foot with a plastic bag or a shower cap to keep it from getting wet when she showers." He says all this far too quickly, the words coming out automatically as his mind races.

"Okay, thank you," Jake's face clears up a bit. He definitely doesn't recognize Hugh, not that Hugh stuck around long enough at the party to make an impression. "Anything else?"

Yeah, Hugh thinks, you're cheating on your wife with my best friend! How could you? How dare you? He could drop the bombshell right now, some small part of him roars, watch him squirm. But he can't, the reasonable voice in his head answers. He can't do that to this family, in front of this child whose life is likely about to be ripped apart. He can't.

"No," he finally says. "There's nothing else. You're good to go! Have a nice day."

He steps back to let Jake help his daughter off the exam table, making sure she lands on her good foot. Diane hands her daughter the crutches, keeps a hand on her back to steady her. They make their slow way out the door, Jake shooting one last grateful glance over his shoulder, and Hugh clenches his fists to suppress the urge to physically shove them all out of the building.

He hears the little chime from the waiting room that likely means they've left, and he hurries to his office. There, he lets his shoulders sag, lets his doctor face drop away.

He has to tell Paul. He has to. He can't keep this from him, he has to let him know right now... But how? He can't call him now, he'll have another patient in five minutes. Should he text him? He composes the message in his head. Hey, I'm at work and your boyfriend came in and it turns out he's married with kids. No, he can't do that to him over text. Hey, we need to talk. No, Paul hates vaguely threatening messages like that. He's received enough of them from past partners. Hey, there's something I have to tell you. No, he's probably out shopping still, he might just ignore that.

Oh, no. He's probably still out shopping. He was going to call his family while he was out today, Hugh realizes, his heart sinking even further. He could be on the phone with them right now, giddy and gushing about bringing a surprise home for Christmas...

"Hey." It's Tracy in his doorway, frowning at him. Since the party, she’s woven her microbraids into a wreath around her head. "Is everything okay? You look... well, not okay."

No, Hugh thinks, everything is most certainly not okay. Once again, he has to watch his best friend go through heartbreak because once again he was taken advantage of by a shitty man. Anger swells up in him... but the next second, the anger drains away, and he's left with just sadness. For Paul, mostly, but also for this woman and her kids, and even a little for Jake and whatever parts of himself he felt forced to explore in secret rather than openly claim. 

"No," he sighs, too tired to lie. "It's kind of a... not great situation..." he hesitates. He can't tell Tracy while Paul still doesn't know. "Something... happened. I just need a minute to..." take a breath? Process? Figure out what to say to Paul? "... deal with it," he finishes.

Tracy raises an eyebrow. "If it's a personal emergency, you can go home, Hugh."

"No! No, it's not like that. It's probably not an emergency, I guess, it's just... bad." He cringes, hearing how he sounds. "Sorry. I really shouldn't talk about it... it's not my thing to talk about. I'll... I'll tell you later."

"Okay," Tracy sighs, stepping in with her business face on. "You're freaking out. Whatever this is, is it something you need to miss the last two hours of your shift to go deal with immediately?"

"No..." As awful as he feels for Paul, Hugh can't justify missing work to run home and tell him right now. He'd probably be out shopping for a while anyway. "I don't think that's necessary."

"Okay then. Is it something you can deal with in the next..." she checks her watch. "Two minutes?"

There's no way he could call Paul, drop a bombshell like that, and then leave him to sort through it on his own. There's definitely no way he can do this over text. It has to be in person. "No, definitely not."

"Then my advice to you is to put it out of your mind, for now, go be a good doctor for a couple more hours, and worry about it when you're off the clock."

"Okay," Hugh exhales. That makes sense. There's nothing he can really do until he gets home, not if he wants to truly be there for Paul. And it's no use to anyone if he lets this distract him throughout the rest of his shift. "You're right." He gives Tracy a small smile. "You're the best."

"I know," she says with a little smug smile. "I hope your... whatever it is works out okay."

Hugh scrubs a hand over his face. "I hope so too."

***

Paul is still yelling into the phone half an hour later. And all Hugh can do is sit and watch and let the awfulness of it all slowly swallow him.

He’d thought about retreating to his room after telling Paul the whole story, so Paul could have some privacy confronting Jake, but their apartment isn’t big enough to be that private. He knew he’d just be lying in his bed, trying to pretend he couldn’t hear what was happening. If instead, he could offer some comfort to Paul by staying with him, that would be better for them both.

“You lied to me for almost four months! You’re a liar and a cheater!” Paul runs a hand through his hair again. It’s sticking up in all directions, and for a brief moment, Hugh feels a strong urge to get up and smooth it back into place. 

He goes to the kitchen to find wine instead. They'll definitely need some.

The moment he told Paul everything plays over and over in Hugh's head as he pulls glasses from the cupboard. The desperation and the horror that flickered across Paul's face as the truth sank in, finally hardening into anger as he scrambled for his phone to call Jake. He could practically see it as Paul's heart broke. He glances into the sitting room, at Paul still pacing, still waving his arm around as Jake makes whatever excuses he must be making over the phone.

"How is that relevant?"

Hugh pauses on the way back to the couch, wine glasses in hand. Paul has stopped pacing, his voice has gone dangerously low.

"How are you — are you fucking serious right now?" Paul's eyes flick to Hugh as he settles back into the couch. "You have a wife and kids. That is not even comparable — okay, you know what? I'm done. Why am I even arguing with you? We're done. I'm not judging whatever journey you're on, but I hope you never do this to anyone else, ever again."

Paul flings the phone into an armchair and finally collapses onto the couch beside Hugh, head falling into his hands. Hugh says nothing, just slides the other glass of wine across the coffee table towards him and takes a sip of his own.

"That sucked," Paul finally says. His voice is small, muffled by his hands.

"Yeah." Hugh looks over at Paul, still hunched over with his head in his hands, completely drained. He doesn't know what else to say.

Well, he has a couple of ideas. He could apologize, again, like he hasn't done enough of that already. He could go on a furious tirade about Jake and his awfulness, but Paul knows that. He could take Paul's face in his own hands and look him in the eyes and insist that he deserves so much better... but Paul probably knows that, too.  

He continues sitting in silence instead, staring vaguely out the window, watching the last traces of sunlight drain from the sky. Eventually, Paul unfurls and reaches for the wine. He curls himself into the corner of the couch and takes a mournful sip. Hugh mirrors him, turning to face him and drawing his legs up to his chest.

"Do you..." Hugh tries after a moment, "...want to talk about it?"

Paul shrugs. "I mean, you saw that. What else is there to talk about?"

"Yeah..." Hugh sinks further into the couch. There may be nothing else to talk about, but he can still sit here in silent support for as long as Paul needs him to.

They've known each other for ten years. And for ten years, it's been like this. It's been Paul, blindsided by yet another shitty guy who took advantage of him, and it's been Hugh on the couch beside him. Or it's been Hugh, at the end of yet another relationship he thought would last forever, and those times it's been Paul pouring the wine and sitting beside him on the couch, or insisting they watch reruns of The Great British Baking Show all evening. Maybe, no matter how many times either of them tries to find love, it's always going to end like this, with the two of them beside each other on this exact couch, heartbroken, but heartbroken together.

All things considered, it's not a bad future.

Eventually, both their glasses have been drained, and Hugh gets up to reheat some leftovers for dinner. Paul stands up with him. They look at each other for a moment, hesitating. Finally, it's Paul who steps forward just as Hugh opens his arms.

Paul sighs into his shoulder. "At least I've still got you."

"You always will," Hugh murmurs.

At least that's one thing they can both count on.

***

December 16

"Heyyy. Whatcha doing?"

Paul turns to find Hugh in his doorway, trying very hard to look relaxed and not worried about him. The way his biceps flex when he crosses his arms gives him away.

"Packing." He gestures vaguely at the clothes piled onto his bed.

"Mhmm. How long are you going for again?"

"Ten days," Paul sighs. He's leaving tomorrow. He should be excited — well, he is excited, but he should be ecstatic, giddy, even. Mostly he's just tired. And sad. And missing his family so much it physically hurts.

"Okay, ten days. So, probably you don't need to pack your entire wardrobe, right?" Hugh asks gently, looking around at all the open drawers, the empty closet.

"Yeah. Right." Paul shoves half the clothes off the bed and flops down in their place. He hears Hugh sigh from behind him. "Or maybe I'll just give up on LA and move back home forever."

"Right," Hugh scoffs, "because the tiny town of Discovery, New Hampshire has a huge buffet of single gay men."

Paul rolls over to frown at him. "Well, I've had shit luck at the all-you-can-eat buffet in LA. I haven't met a single decent guy in ten years!"

"Maybe it's not LA. Who says you won't have shit luck back home?" Hugh jokes.

"Fine, then maybe I'll just date no one," Paul snaps. "But I could be closer to my family! Maybe I'll get a job at Dartmouth. Or maybe I'll teach at Tilly's school, that's not so different from teaching intro bio to college freshmen. Or maybe I'll leave academia and open a — a plant store!"

"A plant store?" Hugh chuckles.

"Actually, that would be perfect. I'd just be surrounded by plants all day..."

"If you want to be surrounded by plants all day, go sit in the living room," Hugh teases.

"I'd rather take a nap," Paul huffs.

Hugh makes no move to leave him alone, just stands there giving him that look like he wants to know what's really on Paul's mind. Paul frowns at him in return, but he doesn't let up.

Finally, Paul gives in. "I was so excited to bring him home," he mumbles.

"I know," Hugh says simply.

"They're all gonna think I got dumped before the holidays again."

"Well," Hugh reasons, "you kinda did."

"Shut up," Paul mutters, flinging a stray sock at him. "I'm gonna get the sympathy eyes all Christmas, again... maybe I should bring you home instead. We could tell them we finally fell in love after all these years."

"Yeah, right," Hugh snorts, turning to leave. Paul can hear him laughing in the hallway.

Wait. That's not a bad idea...

His family is well aware of his shit luck with relationships. They're well aware that all he's wanted for the last ten years, for even longer than that, is to find love, and that it's never worked out. Every holiday, confronted by his older siblings' perfect relationships, and now his younger siblings' blossoming romances, he's acutely aware of his own miserable love life. Of how sorry they all are for him, how disappointed, how confused they must be that he manages to fuck up so badly and so often... but if he brought Hugh home...

"That could work," Paul whispers as the pieces fall into place in his mind. "Wait!" he calls after Hugh, springing up to follow him to the kitchen. "That could actually work!"

"Oh, you're funny!" Hugh is putting groceries in the fridge and cupboards. "Good to know you're feeling better."

"No, I'm serious. Look..." Paul takes a seat at the kitchen counter, stealing a box of gingersnaps before Hugh can put it away. "I told my family I was bringing a "surprise" home — obviously they immediately assumed it was a person." He pries the box open.

"Obviously."

"And now they'll be all disappointed that once again I've failed in such spectacular fashion —

"I'm sure that's not true," Hugh interjects, turning around to snatch a cookie. "None of what happened was your fault."

"But," Paul pushes on, ignoring him, "if you came home with me and we told them we were dating, they'd be wildly ecstatic, Hugh, they love you."

“They do love me,” Hugh concedes.

"Exactly! If we pretended to be together, we could convince them that my love life is far better than the pathetic pile of garbage it actually is, and prove to them that I'm capable of maintaining a relationship!"

"By lying to them for ten days?"

"Yes!"

Hugh just laughs at him again.

"It won't even be that hard, everyone always asks why we aren't just together. Adira thought we were married for like two years, remember?"

"It was six months," Hugh corrects him, "and also they were seven. Your family knows better than to assume two gay best friends should be together."

"Come on, Hugh," Paul groans, "It's the perfect plan! You have two weeks of vacation time —

"Which I've already stocked up for! Who's gonna eat all these groceries? Who's gonna water the plants, Paul? You can't leave your babies alone!"

"You know Tracy would be more than happy to plant-sit, and definitely to eat all your groceries."

"... Okay, another fair point." Hugh shakes his head fondly at him. Paul knows he won't be able to hold out much longer.

"Come home with me, please." The more he says it, the more it just makes sense, the more he needs it to happen. "You shouldn't be alone at Christmas."

"I mean, I'd have Tracy... or Sheri, or Raji, or my other coworkers..." Hugh takes the box of cookies back and turns to put them away.

"Hugh." Paul feels a pang in his chest, imagining him just sitting in their quiet apartment for ten straight days. "I don't want you to be alone. I don't want you to be here by yourself... thinking about your mom, the Christmases you used to spend with her." Hugh freezes with his back to Paul. "I'm sorry," he adds, worried he may have touched a nerve. "I just... you shouldn't be alone with those memories on Christmas."

Hugh stays quiet.

"And my family adores you like I said." Paul fills the silence, trying to make his voice light again. "They send you all their love every time I call them. They're practically ready to adopt you. Come spend Christmas with us. You know you're always welcome."

Hugh finally sighs, turns around to face him. "You want me to buy a plane ticket leaving tomorrow? It's probably too expensive."

Paul knows from the soft, slightly exasperated look on Hugh's face that he's won. "Between the two of us, I'm sure we can cover it."

Hugh shakes his head. "I... Fine. Fine! Let's do it!"

"Yay!" Paul springs up to pull him into a hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, I love you!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm amazing, I've saved Christmas," Hugh mutters, rolling his eyes as he pulls away. "But we're not doing the fake boyfriend thing."

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun!" Paul pouts. "Seriously, it's the best gift I could bring my family."

"What, the joy of my presence isn't enough?"

"Nope! This is happening." Paul whips out his phone to text Keyla — Hi K, can Hugh crash with us for Christmas? — and not two seconds later receives a string of heart emojis and a YES OF COURSE. 

"See?" He holds his phone triumphantly out to Hugh. "Just imagine how happy they'll be when we announce that we're together. I'm totally gonna win Christmas this year!" He turns to go back to his room, texting Keyla back with more details as he goes. "Get packing!" he calls over his shoulder.

"Anything for you, Paul," Hugh calls back, laughter in his voice.

And just like that, Paul is properly excited for Christmas again.

Chapter Text

December 17

The drive from the airport to the house is beautiful. The vast, open sky, the snow-laden trees — there are so many more trees here than in LA, actual trees and actual forests — and then the twinkling Christmas lights hanging from every building as they drive through the town in the evening. And Hugh is sitting beside him, marveling at it all. It's perfect. By the time he turns into his neighborhood, Paul feels like he could sing.

"Please do," Hugh laughs when Paul tells him this. "I've missed hearing you sing.” It’s rare that he does anymore — their walls back home are thin, and his voice is not something Paul feels inclined to share with the neighbors. The last time Hugh came home with him, though, two summers ago —

“Oh! They haven't given away the piano or anything, have they?"

"Of course not!" It's one of the many things Paul's looking forward to in these next ten days. "Mom and Dad both used to play. No one else took to it, but they keep it around for me."

"I thought Adira was taking lessons?"

"Year ago, but they decided to learn the cello instead." Paul turns onto their street, barely lit by Christmas lights and with no streetlamps. He slows a little, squinting at the numbers on the passing houses, even though he knows exactly where he's going.

"Keyla and Joann didn't ask why I'm randomly coming at the last minute?" Paul can hear the nerves in Hugh's voice.

"No! No, of course not. You're family, Hugh. You don't need a reason." 

He turns into the driveway and spots two figures on the porch. One of them starts jumping and waving as he pulls closer, the other putting out a hand to steady her. Up close now, he can see their grinning faces. He just remembers to put the car in park and turn it off before throwing the door open and bounding across the driveway and up the steps.

"Keylaaa!" he cries, laughing as he pulls his sister into his arms.

"Ohhh," Keyla squeezes him too tight, rocking from side to side. "I've missed you so much! Ugh, I'm being a total dork about it right now but I don't care! You're home!" Her voice is muffled by Paul's coat. 

Paul squeezes her even tighter before letting go. "I missed you too, I — wait! Wait!" He cups her face in his hands, incredulous. "Did you get a new eye? Did she get a new eye?" he asks Joann, who's giggling behind them.

"I did! Surprise!" Keyla cackles. "Come in, come in so you can see it properly! Hugh!" she yells over his shoulder. Paul glances back to see Hugh still hesitating at the bottom of the porch steps. "Get your ass over here so we can give you a hug!"

"Yes, ma'am," Hugh laughs. Keyla pulls him in as soon as he's in arm's reach, while Paul steps aside to give Jo a proper hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

"Welcome home," she murmurs, squeezing his shoulder. 

Paul takes a deep breath of crisp winter air. It's so good to be back.

***

In the hall, Hugh can clearly see that Keyla did indeed get a new eye. It's a vivid, electric blue, a stark contrast to the blue-gray of her other eye. Her old one had looked closer in color, Hugh remembers. But the new eye somehow suits her better.

"How do I look?" she smirks as Paul takes her face in his hands again.

"Amazing. Beautiful. Like a mad scientist." He laughs and jumps back as she swats at him.

"He means you look striking," Hugh chimes in, shutting the door behind them. That's a good word to describe her, he thinks — with half her head shaved, making her bright blue eye stand out even more, with the other half of her face framed by fiery red hair, with her signature wicked smile.

"Compelling," Hugh continues. "Intriguing. Beguiling. You look kind of like the mysterious villain in a spy thriller who picks their teeth with a knife.”

"Excellent," Keyla beams. "That's exactly what I was going for."

"I think Book's getting her a pocket knife for Christmas, actually," he hears Joann mutter to Paul. Paul turns away to hide his laughter, muffling it in his sleeve.

"How is it fitting?" Hugh asks, stepping in to take a closer look. "Any pain, discomfort? Mobility issues?"

"Stop doctoring!" Paul smacks his arm. "You are not allowed to doctor people for the next ten days. This is your vacation!"

"I'm not doctoring!" Hugh holds up his hands. "I'm just asking, promise. As a friend."

"It's the best one yet!" Keyla answers. "It's been three days and I can barely even feel that it's there! It took me almost a full year to get there with the old one. But Paul’s right,” she frowns at him, “no doctoring allowed!"

“Okay, okay,” Hugh laughs, “But that’s great!” Hugh follows everyone into the kitchen. Clearly, their arrival interrupted Keyla’s cooking. She resumes chopping potatoes while Paul takes a seat at the counter. Hugh tries to come over to help, but —

“Absolutely not.” Keyla glares at him, threatening him with the knife. “You are our guest. You just got here. There’ll be plenty of time for everyone to help out with cooking in the next ten days. Sit. Down.” She points the knife at the stool next to Paul’s. Hugh backs up with his hands in the air as Joann and Paul laugh at him.

“Good,” Keyla nods once he’s seated. 

No doctoring, no cooking. Got it. Hugh watches Paul as he takes in his surroundings, chats with Keyla and Joann. He looks so different already, lighter and freer, far more relaxed than he's been in a long time. He's alight with happiness. Hugh likes this look on him.

"So," Keyla leans forward now that the potatoes are in the oven, resting her elbows on the counter. "When you told Michael you were bringing home a surprise, we all thought you were bringing a boyfriend. Not that we don't love you, Hugh," she reaches out to pat his arm. "But what happened? How did it all crash and burn this time?"

"Real tactful," Paul snorts. "But actually..." he gives Hugh a pointed look. 

Oh. Hugh's heart picks up speed. Are they really doing this? Paul hadn't mentioned the whole fake boyfriend plan on the drive from the airport, and Hugh was just beginning to hope he'd forgotten all about it.

"It's a good thing you didn't," Keyla continues before Paul can say anything else. "You'd totally have ruined the surprise." She raises an eyebrow, barely concealing her excitement.

"What... surprise?" Paul looks between Keyla and Joann, who winks at him. He narrows his eyes at her. "What do you have up your sleeve?"

Keyla clears her throat. "My early Christmas present to you is... a blind date!"

"A what?" Paul's eyes go wide. "What?!"

"Listen!" Keyla shushes him. "His name is Justin, he just joined our gym, he works at Dartmouth, he's your age, and I think you'll really like him!"

"No! No, I am not going on a blind date set up by my big sister!

"Oh, come on," Keyla scoffs. "You can't exactly afford to be picky."

"Wh- okay," Paul splutters as Hugh bites down on a laugh. "How did you even find a single gay guy in this town?"

"Why wouldn't there be? It's not like there are no queer people in this town! We live here," Keyla gestures between herself and Joann. "Michael and Book live here, Tilly and Adira are at queer youth group right now —

"Okay, yes, our whole family somehow all turned out queer —

"It's not just us anymore, Paul," Joann gently interrupts. "Things have really changed in the last ten years. You just haven't been around to see it."

That makes Paul stop short, a slightly hurt look on his face. Hugh takes the opportunity to jump in and steer the conversation back into lighter territory. "Well I, for one, think it's a great idea."

"See!" Keyla points at him. "Hugh loves it! You're going!"

"I love it!" Hugh agrees, laughing. "You're going!"

"Hugh!" Paul begins, glaring at him, but Hugh turns back to Joann and Keyla, hastily changing the subject before he can say anything else.

"I just want to thank you both for letting me crash here last minute. It's very kind of you."

"Oh, stop, Hugh, we're thrilled to have you. Actually," Joann gives him a pointed look, "I was going to pull the lights out of basement storage. They’re a bit heavy, if you wouldn't mind...?"

"Oh, of course!" Hugh immediately catches on. "I'll come help you."

"I know what you're doing!" Paul calls after them, annoyed. "You're leaving us alone so Keyla can wear me down! It's not gonna work!"

Hugh just turns to wink at him before following Joann into the hallway.

In the basement, Joann pulls the boxes of lights from their shelves with ease while Hugh just watches. Hugh remembers that she was an Olympic swimmer.

"Were you in on this little fix-up scheme too?" he asks.

"Yes, of course," she smiles, heaving another box from the shelf. "Don't worry, it's not like we met a random gay guy and immediately set him up with Paul. He's a good guy. He seemed really interested in Paul, and I think Paul will really like him."

"No, I'm not worried about that. I think this will be good for him." He really means it. A good date in the hometown he's been missing so much might be exactly what Paul needs right now. "Why didn't we stay and help Keyla convince him?"

"They're both so stubborn," Joann chuckles. "Sometimes you just have to get out of their way and let them battle it out.”

"Fair enough," Hugh laughs.

“Plus, I really do need these lights moved. We were going to start putting them up tomorrow morning."

There are four heavy tubs for them to carry back up the stairs, but Joann doesn't move just yet. Instead, she sighs, folding her arms on top of the stack of boxes. "He just had a bad breakup, didn't he?"

Of course she knows. They've all probably guessed by now. "Yeah," he winces. "A few days ago, actually." He looks down at his feet. "He wouldn't like me sharing the details with you, but... it was brutal."

"Oh," she shakes her head. "Poor Paul... why does this always happen to him?"

Why indeed? Hugh just shrugs. "Bad luck, I guess. He always manages to... find the wrong guys."

Joann gives him a curious look.

"What?" He feels his face grow warm.

"Nothing," she muses. "I just... hope the right guy turns out to be closer than we think."

Hugh glances back up the stairs, to where Paul and Keyla are probably still arguing. "Me too."

***

"K, please," Paul sighs, "drop this blind date thing. I'm not doing that!"

"Come on, Paul!" Keyla pleads. "You know I wouldn't just set you up with anyone, I really think you'd like him!"

"I know, I know... but what's the point? I don't live here, I'm leaving in ten days!"

"Well," Keyla shrugs, "you could always move back. Problem solved!"

"Is that what this is about? Are you trying to lure me back here?"

"Well, apparently the prospect of living near your family isn't a good enough reason!" Keyla snaps.

That one hurts. Paul can't think of anything to say to that.

"Okay, no," Keyla says after a moment. Her expression softens. "Hey, that's not the reason. Look... we know your past experience with dating has been... not great —

" — a shitshow," Paul says at the same time. He thinks darkly about Jake.

"Right," Keyla chuckles. "And we know finding love is important to you, and we really want that for you. That's all, I swear."

The oven timer goes off and Keyla turns to deal with it. The delicious smell of roasted potatoes fills the air. 

Paul sits back down at the counter. "I'm here to spend time with my family," he tries again. "I don't want anything to get in the way of that."

"And it won't!" Keyla insists, shutting the oven door. "It's one date to start with. And even if there are more, you'll still have plenty of time to spend with us! I mean Adira definitely won't let you miss the fundraiser. And if all goes well, you'll bring him with you to Christmas dinner!"

Paul can feel his resolve weakening. He grasps at it, but it's slipping away. It is just one date...

He can tell by the gleam in her eye that Keyla knows she's won. Resistance is futile. "Fine," he groans. "Tell me about him."

"Yay!" Keyla squeals, rounding the counter and pulling out her phone. "Okay, so his name is Justin Straal, Jo and I met him at the gym a couple months ago and hit it off like instantly, he’d just moved here —

"Why?" Paul scoffs.

Keyla glares at him. "Because this is a great place to live, Paul! And anyway, you can ask him that tomorrow —

"Wait, tomorrow?" This is happening far too quickly for Paul's liking.

"Yes, tomorrow, you're gonna meet him at noon at the pub — don't worry, we won't be there to spy on you," Keyla rolls her eyes at the sound of protest he makes. "It's our day off." She hands him her phone. "This is him!"

Okay, Paul admits to himself, the guy is pretty handsome. Okay, no, hot. He's hot. Paul lingers on the dark stubble on his cheeks, his deep brown eyes, his sharp smile. And if he's friends with Keyla and Jo, that probably means he's an interesting person...

Paul looks back up at Keyla, who's looking expectantly at him. 

"Okay," he sighs. "Noon tomorrow, at the pub."

"It's gonna be great," Keyla smiles softly at him. Then she punches him in the arm. "Go unpack! Everyone else will be here soon!"

***

"Aww, look at you!"

Paul looks up from his suitcase to see Hugh in his doorway, admiring a framed photo on the wall of him with Keyla and Michael from over three decades ago. He's smiling impossibly wide in that one, showing his missing front teeth. Keyla and Michael have their arms wrapped around him — he remembers they were holding him in place because he wouldn't keep still.

"I know, I'm adorable," he smiles. This has been Tilly's room for over ten years now, but it was his before that. He's glad to see she's still kept all the old pictures up.

"And is this baby Tilly?" Hugh moves on to the next one, Michael and Keyla flanking a teenage Paul, his arms around a tiny, beaming kid with wild red hair. “Were you her favorite?”

"No, that was definitely Michael," Paul laughs. "Tilly denies that, of course.”

"Of course," Hugh murmurs, tracing his fingers over a third frame. He doesn't say anything about that one, but Paul knows he's looking at an even older family photo. His father, back when he still had that thick, blonde hair, with a hand on Keyla's and Michael's shoulders. They're so tiny, but he's even tinier, clinging tightly to his mother.

"She's beautiful," he hears Hugh whisper. 

Paul blinks. "Yeah," he whispers back. Hugh looks back at him for a moment, a soft smile on his face.

Paul clears his throat. "The one on the bottom right, there," he points to it. "That's us with baby Adira."

"There you are," Hugh grins, touching a finger to the picture. Grown-up Michael, Paul, and Keyla, their father with a hand on Paul’s shoulder, Adira a little bundle in teenage Tilly’s arms. "That’s the Paul I know." 

“Yeah, fifteen years younger, with far fewer wrinkles,” Paul laughs. “Please keep picturing me that way.”

Hugh walks over, settles on the bed beside Paul's suitcase. "So? Are you going on a blind date?"

"Yes, I guess I am," Paul sighs, sinking down next to him. "Keyla wore me down." He nudges Hugh's shoulder. "I can't believe you ended our relationship without consulting me!" he teases. "Haven't I been dumped enough?"

"Our fake relationship hadn't actually started yet," Hugh points out, nudging him back. "And it's just one date!"

"Exactly! That's not the same thing as a relationship," Paul argues. "And if it doesn't work out, which blind dates almost never do, then I'm back to being the single one at Christmas." He can imagine the pitying looks on his siblings' faces now. He doesn't have to imagine them, actually, they're all too familiar.

“I was so excited to bring Jake home...” The misery of the last few days begins to creep back in.

“I know. I'm sorry,” Hugh squeezes his shoulder. “But hey. You’re here now, with your family. You’re going on a hot date tomorrow,” he gives him a sly smile.

“How do you know he’s a hot date?”

“Joann showed me his picture,” Hugh grins. “He’s hot.” 

“Stop,” Paul mutters, feeling the back of his neck grow warm. 

“And,” Hugh continues, “now you don’t have to explain to your siblings that the man you brought home for Christmas is married. To a woman. With kids —

“Okay, okay,” Paul laughs. “You’ve made your point.” He takes Hugh’s hand, a surge of affection for him filling his chest. “Thank you for being here with me.”

Hugh looks down at their hands and back up at him, eyes soft.

“Paul?” A door slams downstairs. “Paul! Get your stupid face down here!”

Tilly. Paul takes a deep breath, his heart suddenly racing. Is he nervous? Why is he nervous?

“Paul!”

“Go on,” Hugh murmurs, squeezing his hand. “Not wise to keep her waiting, right?”

“Tilly!” Paul calls back. Hugh is right behind him as Paul bounds down the stairs.

He’s barely cleared the bottom step when Tilly launches herself into his arms. “Hiiii! You’re here!” she squeals in his ear. “I missed you so much! Oh my god I have so much to tell you —

“Let the man breathe, Tilly,” he hears Keyla chuckle behind them.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Tilly laughs, pulling away. 

“Hi, love,” Paul murmurs, reaching out to smooth her hair away from her face. “I’ve missed you too.”

Tilly’s eyes are already filling with tears. Then, she glances behind him. “Hugh! It’s so good to see you!” She tackles him instead, and Paul's gaze falls on the people who've just entered behind her.

"Kiddo!" He pulls Adira into his arms as they laugh. They're a head taller than they were last Christmas, Paul is surprised to find. Their short hair brushes his chin now. It makes his heart ache. "Stop growing!" he pouts as they pull away. 

"I've missed you too," they roll their eyes.

Gray, hovering just behind them, gives Paul a tiny wave. His hair is dark blue and much longer now, brushing his shoulders. And, Paul notices, his face is much more angular than when he saw him last.

"Hi, Paul!" 

"Your voice is deeper! That's great!"

"Yeah." He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck.

"He's worried things are different now that we're dating," Adira states matter-of-factly to Paul. 

"Adira!" Gray glares at them. He glances back at Paul, turning red.

"Don't be ridiculous," Paul snorts, pulling him into a hug. "You've always been family! And I am ecstatic that you two are dating, for the record. I'm over the fucking moon about it, okay? I’m —"

"Okay!" Adira laughs. "We get it, thank you. You can stop that now." They glance behind him, and their face lights up. "Hi, Hugh!"

"Hi! You've grown so much since I last saw you! Look at you! And look at you!" Hugh turns to Gray as Paul releases him, taking him in. "Is this really baby Gray? How long has it been? Do you even remember me?"

"Of course I remember you!" Gray beams. "You haven't changed much in nine years, I don't think. You still look the same."

"Haven't aged a day, Hugh," Jo chimes in, laughing. Gray goes red again.

"Meanwhile, you've grown up! Both of you, look at you!" Hugh pulls them both into a hug. Paul pulls Tilly into his side again, pulls Adira in again when Hugh releases them. Tilly reaches out and draws Keyla into their little huddle. He's missed his siblings so, so much. He can't bring himself to let go of them just yet.

"Okay, okay," Keyla laughs. "We get it, Paul, you've missed us, but someone needs to come help me set the table."

"Oh, fine," Paul grumbles, releasing them all. He'll have to make sure to get plenty of hugs in over the next ten days. Adira follows Keyla into the kitchen and Gray trails after them just as the door opens again.

"Ohh! Hi!" Michael's smile is radiant as she embraces Paul. "Welcome home!"

Paul squeezes her extra tight, his heart suddenly aching. Only now that she's in front of him does he realize just how much he's missed her.

Michael cups his face in her hands, searching it. "How are you?"

"Better, now that I'm here," Paul smiles, pulling her in for another hug. "So much better."

"And Hugh!" She releases him, moves on to grasp Hugh's hands. "I am so very glad you're here," she says earnestly. "You are always welcome, I hope you know that."

"Thank you, Michael." Hugh pulls her into a hug, too. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"Paul! Good to see you, mate!" Book gives him a broad grin and a one-armed hug, a cat carrier in his other hand. "You too, Hugh! Welcome!"

"Is this the famous Grudge?" Hugh gasps. "Do I finally get to meet her?"

"You will, you will," Book laughs, "as soon as she's forgiven me for the carrier. She's currently sulking a bit."

"Understandable," Hugh nods. 

"But she'll come 'round soon, I'm sure. She usually enjoys meeting new people."

Paul spots her sullen face through the bars and gives her a little wave.

"Everyone, get in here!" Keyla yells from the dining room. "Dinner's ready!"

"You ready for ten days of this?" Paul murmurs to Hugh.

Hugh grins back at him. "I love it already."

***

Dinner is a loud, joyous affair. Hugh is immediately swept up in it, laughing and talking with everyone else. The Stamets family doesn't let him feel excluded or out of place for a second. Keyla explains to him that their parents bought the massive dining table, big enough for a dozen people, when they first bought the house — before they'd even had a second child — because they knew even back then that they wanted their home to be open to everyone and always filled with people. Joann adds that the table is full more often than it isn't, with a family dinner, or Tilly's colleagues, or Adira's friends, or their neighbors. Adira and Gray tell him about the fundraiser talent show their queer youth group is putting together at the community center, and that they've already bought him a ticket. Tilly rejoices in being officially done with work until January. Book regales them all with stories from the vet clinic. Grudge presides over the proceedings, sitting regally atop a cat tree in the corner. It's all slightly chaotic, and Hugh loves every minute of it.

Throughout dinner, Hugh watches Paul, sitting across from him. He hardly ever gets to see him like this, fully in his element, completely unburdened, every piece of himself on full and proud display. His loud laughter, his boundless energy, the way he speaks, fast and passionate and free. His broad grin, his bright, starry eyes. And his enthusiasm is infectious, bringing out the light in everyone else. He's practically glowing, and Hugh is transfixed by him.

"So, Paul," Michael turns to him. "When you said you were bringing a surprise home —

" — you all thought I was bringing a boyfriend," Paul finishes, shaking his head. "I know."

"I mean, Hugh is a delightful surprise," Michael reaches across the table for his arm. Hugh covers her hand with his own, returning her affection. "But... what happened with the boyfriend?"

"Who says there was a —

"There's no use denying it," Joann gently chides him. "We all figured it out. By ourselves," she adds hastily as Paul glances at Hugh. "It was pretty obvious."

Paul dims a little. "Yes, okay, there was a boyfriend," he sighs. "And it didn't end well, as per usual. And I don't really want to talk about it."

"Of course, love," Michael brushes his arm. "I'm so sorry. You deserve so much better, you know that, right?"

"Thank you," Paul murmurs, returning her soft smile.

"Hopefully it'll go better tomorrow," Keyla mutters into her wine glass.

Tilly's head snaps up. "What did you say? What do you mean, tomorrow? What's tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Paul," Keyla turns to him with a wicked grin. "What's tomorrow?"

Paul glares at her, turning pink. "Nothing's tomorrow," he begins —

"Keyla set Paul up with a blind date!" Hugh interjects. He can’t hold his excitement in any longer. What? he mouths as Paul turns to glare at him instead.

The whole table erupts. Michael flings her arms around Paul, Adira squeals their congratulations, Book reaches over and claps him on the back. Paul cringes at the attention, but Hugh can see his frosty look slowly melting.

"That's amazing!" Tilly beams. "K, why didn't you tell us?"

"I knew one of you fuckers would probably give it away," Keyla gives Tilly and Adira a pointed look, "so I didn't want to say anything, or else he wouldn't even get on the plane."

"Yeah," Adira shrugs, grinning at Tilly. "We probably would've said something."

“Wait!” Michael gasps. “Is this with the guy from the gym Jo was telling me about?”

“Justin, yeah,” Joann smiles. “Good, right?”

“He’s perfect,” Keyla insists as Michael throws her arms around Paul again.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Paul!” Michael’s eyes are shining.

“Okay, okay,” Paul chuckles, gently detaching himself from her. “Let’s maybe cool it? I haven’t even met this person yet!”

“Oh, fine,” Keyla grumbles. “But we’re happy for you! Just let us be happy for you, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul mumbles, turning pink again. Hugh likes that look on him, too.

An hour later, they’re all cozied up in the sitting room, admiring — or in Paul’s case, bemoaning — the Christmas tree.

“I mean, a fake white tree? Come on, K!”

“We thought it would look nice!” Keyla says defensively. “And it does! Besides, you weren’t exactly around to voice your opinion.”

They’re still annoyed that Paul didn’t come home for Thanksgiving, Hugh realizes. They’d had Thanksgiving dinner with Marco and Tracy and a few neighbors instead. 

“That’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Hugh pipes up now, in Paul’s defense. “Paul didn’t want to leave me alone for Thanksgiving. Which, in my opinion, was very thoughtful of him.”

Paul shoots him a grateful look. “Exactly! I’m very thoughtful. And you could’ve called, or like sent me a picture or something.”

“Well, I’m always the one cleaning up the needles and changing the water,” Joann sighs, “so I’m in favor of the fake tree as well.”

“Fair enough,” Paul concedes. “But couldn’t you have got a green one at least?”

The conversation winds along from there, everyone sleepily chiming in from time to time. No one seems to want to leave yet, even as the evening grows later and later. Hugh settles further into the couch, nestled against Paul. He feels his eyelids growing heavier.

He looks up as Paul laughs at something Book says. In the glow from the Christmas tree, with those stars in his deep blue eyes, that smile, that pink flush in his cheeks...

Paul is beautiful. 

The thought enters Hugh’s mind without warning, but he lets it linger there, too sleepy to challenge it. Paul is so beautiful. 

“Hey.” With a start, Hugh realizes Paul is looking back at him, a soft smile on his face. “What are you thinking?”

That you’re beautiful. Something, some small instinct in the back of his brain, keeps him from voicing that thought. “All this,” he says instead, his gaze wandering around the room before landing back on Paul’s face. “All this is so beautiful. I love it.”

Paul drapes an arm over his shoulders, pulling him in, closer to his side. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmurs.

Warmth blooms in Hugh’s chest. “Me too,” he whispers as his eyes slide closed.

***

Gray lets his head drop onto Adira’s shoulder. “Okay,” he whispers in their ear. “You were right.” 

Adira glances down at him. “See?” they whisper back, nodding across the room at Paul and Hugh, nestled beside each other on the couch. Hugh is falling asleep against his shoulder, Paul’s arms around him, and every few moments, Paul looks lovingly down at him again. “Those two should totally be together.”

“I said you were right,” Gray laughs. He’d been skeptical at first. Just because it had happened for him and Adira, doesn’t mean all best friends had to eventually fall in love. But watching those two all night... it’s beyond obvious.

“What do we do now?” he whispers after a moment.

Adira gives him a sly grin. “Let’s discuss this later. I have some ideas.”

Chapter Text

December 18

Paul is startled awake by a loud, incessant knocking. He rolls to squint blearily at his doorway, but there’s no one there. The knocking sounds again, coming from... outside the window? Groaning, he stumbles out of bed, draws the curtains back, and is immediately greeted by too-bright morning sunlight and Hugh’s even brighter smile.

Shielding his eyes, he opens the window to stick his head out. He wants to ask "what is the meaning of this" and also "how the fuck are you up here" but his brain is so muddled that all that comes out is, “Wha?”

“Good morning, sunshine!” Hugh calls up to him.

“You are far too chipper for this early in the morning,” Paul grumbles. “What are you doing here?” Slightly more awake thanks to the cold morning air, he registers that Hugh is standing atop a ladder to reach his second-floor window.

“We started hanging up the lights.” Hugh looks slightly guilty about it. “I wanted to wake you up to help since you didn't get to help decorate anything else, but ultimately we decided that we’d let you sleep in.”

“Who’s we?”

Hugh looks down, and Paul follows his gaze to see Book and Michael waving up at him.

“Okay,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Gimme like twenty minutes to find some coffee and I’ll come help you.”

“Actually, you need to get ready for your date!” Hugh grins, looking far too excited about it. “Keyla promised to kill you if you missed it, and me if I let you.”

Oh yeah. That. “That’s not till noon!”

“It’s eleven,” Hugh confesses, looking slightly apologetic again. “And we're actually done with the lights for the day. You’re super jetlagged!”

Fuck. “Fuck. Okay, okay, I’ll go...” Paul scrubs his hands over his face.

“Get dressed?” Hugh suggests helpfully. “Brush your teeth? Fix your hair? It’s all...” he makes a vague gesture, “...sticky-uppy.”

“Yeah, that,” Paul grumbles. “Whatever.”

“You should wear that blue sweater!” Hugh calls before he can shut the window. “The really soft one. It makes your eyes pop.” He gives him a cheeky grin and starts climbing down the ladder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul grimaces.

“And the black jeans you think are too tight!” Hugh calls from below his window. He’s enjoying this far too much.

“You’re enjoying this far too much!” he calls back.

“Go don that gay apparel!” Hugh winks up at him.

“Shut up!” Paul shuts the window before Hugh can say anything else.

***

An hour later, he's much more awake, wearing the blue sweater Hugh suggested, and sitting at a tiny table with his hands wrapped around a mug of peppermint hot chocolate. There's a very attractive man, who somehow seems to be genuinely interested in him, sitting across from him.

"Your sister really talked you up," Justin is saying, "and she was absolutely right." He gives him that sparkling grin that Paul has already come to really like. "Though I gotta say, you are even more handsome in person than you are in pictures."

Paul ducks his head, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks. "You are too," he tries, his mind going unhelpfully blank. Justin smiles even brighter, though. "Wait, did you say pictures? Plural?"

"Like I said," Justin chuckles, reaching for the basket of french fries between them, "Keyla and Joann told me a whole lot about you. They talk about you all the time, you know. All good things, of course."

"Right," Paul mutters, clutching his mug a little tighter. "I don't doubt that. You probably thought you were going on a date with the smartest, coolest, funniest, most interesting person in the whole world." 

He lifts his mug to take a sip just as Justin winks at him and says, "Maybe I am."

Paul splutters, hot chocolate sloshing over the sides of his mug. "Oh my god," he coughs, "I'm so sorry —

"No, no, no worries," Justin laughs, handing him a stack of napkins.

Paul wipes his mouth, his hands, the table, feeling mortified. He's sure his face must be bright red by now. "Well, I think that establishes that I'm not actually the coolest person in the world," he jokes.

"So that leaves smartest, funniest, and most interesting. That's still pretty good."

Oh, Paul thinks. This very handsome man is also far too smooth.

"So, um, why did you move here?" Paul attempts to change the subject. Justin's eyes go wide. He looks taken aback. "Sorry!" Paul hurriedly continues, wincing. "I didn't mean to make that sound like a bad thing —

"No, no, it's fine," Justin waves it off. "I get it. You live in LA, right?"

"I mean, I grew up here in Discovery, but yeah," Paul rubs at the back of his neck. "I do love it here," he clarifies, "and I love coming back to visit, especially during the holidays."

"Yeah, it's like something out of a postcard," Justin agrees, glancing out the window at the snow-covered trees beyond. "It's beautiful."

"But living in LA... I don't meet very many people who want a small-town life," Paul chuckles.

"Well, I'm all about the small-town life," Justin smiles. "Or at least, I'm loving it here."

"Did you grow up in a small town?"

"Ah, no, I grew up in Albany, actually. Our family moved from Pakistan when I was three."

"Ah, so you did the opposite of most of my LA friends." Paul reaches for a french fry. "You traded the big city for the small-town life."

"Right," Justin chuckles. "I mean, not at first. I did live in New York City for a while, before I got the job at Dartmouth.”

"Oh, cool!" Paul cringes internally at the sound of his voice. Was that really the best response he could come up with?

Justin doesn't seem to mind the awkwardness, though. "But after a while, I found that I just... wanted something quieter. Something that really feels like home, you know? And then I got the job at Dartmouth and I lived in Hanover for a few years, and then I discovered this tiny town a little ways away — pun not intended," he laughs. "Unless you enjoyed that, then I absolutely intended it."

"Good one," Paul laughs with him. 

"And... now I'm here," he finishes, eyes twinkling. 

"How did you become friends with Keyla and Jo?" Paul is finding that he really enjoys hearing Justin talk.

"Oh, well," Justin chuckles, "They were just about the coolest people I'd ever seen when I first joined that gym. I felt like I had to get to know them, you know?"

"They do have that vibe. Especially Keyla," Paul says fondly. "You know, our whole life she's had this uncanny ability to just draw people to her."

"I don't doubt it," Justin smiles softly. "She's delightful. They both are. They found out I'd just moved here and made me feel so welcome. Then I found out that they're the famous lesbian couple who own this place," he gestures around them, "which is one of the reasons I moved here."

"Really?" Paul hasn't thought about Keyla and Jo as "famous" before. 

"Hell yeah! You know this place is really well-known in a few different towns around here, right? Among queer people, at least. It's kind of a local queer institution. I used to come here for events and stuff all the time when I lived in Hanover."

"Wow... I had no idea." There's that little twist in his chest again. He knows their pub has been doing very well for years — from what he hears, they've done an amazing job making it a community space, and intentionally queer-friendly. They work hard at keeping it that way. He knew they were thriving, but he had no idea they'd become an institution. 

What else has he missed out on?

"Anyway," Justin breaks him out of his thoughts. "Why'd you move to LA?"

"Yeah," Paul blinks. "That's a good question — I, um... well, I did my Ph.D. there."

"Oh!" Justin's eyes light up. "What field?"

"Microbiology. Mycology, specifically, actually — I'm a mycologist." He can feel his ears growing warm.

"Oh, cool!" Justin seems genuinely excited. "I'm a microbiologist too!"

"Wait, seriously?" Paul lets out an incredulous laugh. 

"Seriously," Justin grins. "Cell biology here. What do you do now? What kind of research?"

"Oh, I — I shouldn't talk about it, probably," Paul mumbles. He's definitely bright red again, but again, Justin doesn't seem to mind. "I mean, once I start I'll never shut up about it," he laughs nervously. “I’ve been told I’m overwhelming.”

Justin leans in, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. “Go on. I really want to hear it.”

So Paul goes on. He describes his dissertation and his current project to Justin, who nods and asks questions and says things like “that’s so cool!” He can feel himself getting into it, getting worked up about it, the more he talks. But every time he tries to pull back, to rein in his enthusiasm, Justin seems to sense it, and gives him a little push to continue. He can’t remember the last time he talked so openly about his research to... anyone, really. Well, Hugh has definitely heard all about it. And so has Michael, who’s also really good at translating what he’s saying to the rest of the family. But he’s never met anyone else with that level of patience and genuine interest.

Until now, it seems. Justin describes his own work in turn, and Paul finds himself hanging on his every word, interjecting with his own questions and comments. 

"So that's why you moved to LA?” They finally circle back to Justin’s initial question. “Where were you before then?"

"I did my undergrad and master's degrees in Syracuse," Paul says. "SUNY-ESF, the Environmental Science and Forestry College. They have a mycology program."

"Did you always want to study fungi?"

"Yes, actually," Paul chuckles. "I've been fascinated with fungi for... well, kind of my whole life. I'm weird like that." He rubs at the back of his neck again.

"I love weird," Justin counters. "But also, for the record, I think that's very cool. Why not do the Ph.D. there too? Sorry," Justin adds, "I'm not being judgy or anything, I'm just... interested."

"No, it's a good question. I..." Paul thinks back to ten years ago. "I'd never been that far away from home before. I mean going to school in Syracuse was the furthest I'd ever gone. I think I needed that change, to shake things up a bit, try something new, you know? Plus, the gay dating scene here is kind of nonexistent. Or at least it was at the time." Paul remembers what Jo said to him yesterday. Things have changed in the last ten years, but he hasn't been around to see it.

"Yeah, that’s a bit of a downside," Justin laughs. "But now..." he gazes at Paul, with something like wonder in his eyes. "Well, here you are."

"Here I am," Paul repeats softly.

"So... What do you want to do now?"

"Actually," Paul grins, remembering a sign he saw on the way here, "I have an idea."

***

"Welcome,” Adira spreads their hands, “to the annual Stamets family Christmas gift-wrapping party!”

“Please get on with it, Adira,” Keyla sighs, crossing her arms. “We all know how this works.”

“Hugh and Gray don’t,” they point out, looking to Hugh for support.

“Right,” Hugh jumps in, “I wanna know what it’s about!”

Adira shoots him a grateful look. They clear their throat, put their announcer voice back on. “This cherished Stamets family tradition was started by our mother, long before I was even born. It’s my privilege to continue it today.”

Michael chuckles fondly at that. Hugh sees a flicker of a smile cross Keyla’s face.

“The rules are simple. Everyone — individual or family subunit — grabs their own design of wrapping paper. Dibs on the snowflakes,” they add, eyeing Tilly.

“Hey! No fair!”

“We retreat to separate areas of the house to wrap our gifts. Then we bring them back here to place them under the Christmas tree.”

“And that’s it.” Keyla taps her foot. “That’s the whole thing. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Adira shrugs. “But as you all know, the Stamets family takes Christmas very seriously.” Gray giggles behind them. “Okay!” They clap their hands together. “Let’s get wrapping!”

Gray darts over to the coffee table to grab the snowflake wrapping paper before disappearing up the stairs behind Adira. Hugh lets everyone else go ahead of him until all that’s left is a roll of wrapping paper with a red and green plaid pattern, a few gift bags, and some white tissue paper. He grabs it all and heads to Paul’s room. All the gifts Hugh brought were pre-wrapped, but Paul left him very specific instructions for his gifts before leaving for his date a couple hours ago. Hugh has no idea when he'll be back.

It’s been a fun morning, Hugh thinks as he arranges tissue paper so it covers up the nice leather jacket Paul got for Keyla. He and Michael and Book got half the lights done, Keyla begrudgingly let him help chop vegetables for lunch, and now there’s this: the famed Stamets family wrapping party. He may have lied earlier — Paul has actually complained to him many times about this family tradition. But Hugh knows he secretly enjoys it. He’s pretty sure that’s true of Keyla, too.

It doesn’t take him very long to finish. It takes a couple trips up and down the stairs to leave everything under the tree and then he’s done and itching to do something else. His wandering feet carry him to the kitchen, where he finds Keyla and Jo have spread everything out across the countertop.

“Can I help?”

Keyla jumps, whirls around. “Oh,” she sighs, “it’s you.” She turns around again, her attention back on the roll of wrapping paper in front of her. “For future reference, try not to sneak up on my left side.”

“Right,” Hugh winces. “Sorry.”

“Can you grab the coffee maker? That big box over there,” she points the scissors across the kitchen. “I’m not sure there’s enough of either of these rolls left to cover it.”

“Have you used up that much already?” Hugh heaves the box over to where Keyla is standing.

"These were left over from last year. And we tend to give big presents." Keyla tears the last of the blue penguin-patterned and the red Santa-patterned wrapping paper from their rolls.

"Who's this one for?"

"Book. He's very particular about his coffee. And according to Michael, he's had his eye on this model for ages." The blue penguin wrapping paper only covers half the box. Keyla shrugs and tapes it in place anyway. "It's a much better gift idea than what I had... which was nothing because I suck at gift ideas."

"I mean, it's probably unfair to compare yourself to Michael," Hugh reasons. "She seems to be unusually good at this."

"She's unusually good at everything," Keyla scoffs. "And I love her dearly," she hastily adds. "But it's super annoying."

"Understandable," Hugh laughs. The other piece of wrapping paper is just enough to cover the other half of the box. Hugh fights down another laugh as Keyla tapes it in place.

"What?" she smirks, taping down one last edge. "Now they'll know it's from me, right?"

"It does have Keyla written all over it," Hugh chuckles.

"Oh, darling." Jo walks in, looking amused. "What did you do?"

"You left me unsupervised," Keyla grumbles. "Plus, this is the last of the wrapping paper."

"It's very you," Jo plants a kiss on her forehead. "I was going to make everyone some hot cocoa. Could you check on Adira and Gray? They're the only ones still wrapping, I think."

"I can take this to the tree." Hugh grabs the box and follows Keyla out of the room. He finds Michael contemplating the tree with her arms around an even bigger box. That must be the telescope for Adira. Hugh is particularly excited about that one.

"Oh, Hugh." Michael smiles as she spots him. "You can help me Tetris these gifts under this tree. Bigger boxes on the bottom. Hopefully, Adira doesn't have anything bigger, or we'll run out of room."

A few minutes later, they've rearranged all the presents and they're sitting on the floor together. There's a soft smile on Michael's face as she gazes at the tree. Her eyes are wistful, a little sad. Hugh knows that look. Paul wears that same look a lot around the holidays. He must wear it himself.

"Mom insisted on getting a real Christmas tree every year," she explains at Hugh's questioning glance. "She started this whole present-wrapping thing, too, once we were old enough to buy each other presents." She sighs, her eyes roving over the white plastic branches. "Mom and Dad used to do all the tree upkeep. We'd help out a little, but it was mostly them. Dad insisted on the real Christmas tree every year once Mom was gone. And now... K and Jo have kept it up for the last few years, but with how busy they've been... they finally caved."

"Wow," Hugh murmurs. "Christmas is a big deal for the Stametses, huh?"

"Oh, yes," Michael chuckles. "We go all out. It's our favorite time of year. We're not even religious, you know, but... there's just something about it being the end of the year, and having all this time to spend surrounded by your family... it feels magical, you know?” 

“I know.”

Christmas was a big deal for the Culber family, too. It was always just Hugh and his mother, but she insisted on making a big deal out of the holidays anyway. A real Christmas tree that they'd get the neighbors to drag up to their apartment for them, presents every year despite Hugh insisting he didn't need anything, and, most importantly, lots of good food that they'd spend all day cooking together. For the past fourteen years, though, it's just been Hugh. He hasn't made a big deal of Christmas in a very long time. Some years, there were med school professors who invited students with no home to go to over for Christmas dinner. Some years, there were boyfriends to spend the holidays with, and some years, Hugh worked straight through Christmas and into the new year. 

But this year, there's Paul. There's the whole Stamets family, with their open home and their perpetually full dining table and their holiday traditions. There's Michael, wrapping an arm around his shoulders now.

"I know I'm a broken record already, and it's only been a day." She squeezes him gently. "But you're always welcome here. You're family by now. Which means this is your home, too."

Hugh reaches up to take her hand. "Thank you. I really appreciate that." 

They help each other to their feet and Michael wraps her arms around him once again for good measure. "You'll hear that from me every day for the next week," she murmurs. "You'll also get lots of hugs. Just warning you."

"Noted," Hugh chuckles, releasing her. Paul must get that lots of hugs thing from Michael, he thinks.

"Hot cocoa's ready!" Jo calls from the kitchen just as Keyla comes back down the stairs. Adira and Gray are right behind her with stacks of wrapped parcels in their arms.

"Hey," Keyla nods at them both. "I was gonna run and get some more wine, we ran out yesterday —

"Oh, I can go do that," Hugh jumps in.

"No, Hugh, that's okay —

"No, really, I don't mind," Hugh gently insists. The store isn’t too far from here, and he could use the quick trip, a little sunlight and fresh air. “I’d like to see more of the town in the daylight anyway.”

Keyla narrows her eyes. "Has Michael been smothering you with affection again?"

"Guilty," Michael shrugs as they laugh. "Thank you for offering, Hugh. But at least come have some cocoa first."

If the rest of the week is like today, Hugh thinks as they all crowd around the dining table, laughing and talking over mugs of hot chocolate, this might end up being the best Christmas he's had in a long time.

***

Two hours later, Paul and Justin step back from Paul's car to admire their handiwork.

"I, um..." Paul suppresses a laugh. "I don't think I'll be able to see."

"Oh," Justin nods. Paul glances over to see him fighting a smile. "Not even... through the branches?"

They look at each other, and a moment later burst out laughing. Paul's feet skid a little on the icy ground and he clutches Justin's shoulders for support.

"I — I thought," Paul wheezes, taking a deep breath through his nose to steady his voice, "I thought you said you knew how to do this?"

"Yeah..." The corners of Justin's eyes crinkle as he smiles. "That was mainly just to impress you. Did it work?"

Paul meets Justin's eyes and bursts out laughing again.

"Yeah, I thought so." Justin waves over a sales associate, and in ten more minutes, the Christmas tree is properly tied up, branches out of the way, and strapped securely to the roof of Paul's car. Paul checks his phone to see that it's past 3 PM. It's time to go home if he wants any time to spend with his family. But, looking over at Justin again... he doesn't want this afternoon to end just yet.

"Can I drive you home?"

"I'm not getting in that deathtrap," Justin jokes. Then his face softens. "I live about a block away. I can walk. But thank you for the offer."

"Thank you..." Paul begins. "For today. For this. I... had fun."

"I had a wonderful time," Justin smiles. He hesitates for a moment before stepping forward, holding his arms out for a hug. Paul steps into them, a swooping feeling in his stomach as Justin's chin settles onto his shoulder. They linger for a moment, in each other's arms, before pulling apart a little. Up close, Justin's eyes are mesmerizing, dark brown, but with light glimmering in their depths. 

"I like you, Paul," Justin murmurs, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a hesitant smile.

"I like you too," Paul breathes. He's sure Justin can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Justin steps back, and Paul's arms fall to his sides. "I'll call you soon. Or text you. Promise." He gives him an awkward little wave, walking back towards the entrance of the Christmas tree farm. "Get home safe, okay?"

"Thank you, you too." Paul returns the awkward wave, laughing slightly. Then Justin turns away, stuffs his hands into his coat pockets, and hurries down the snowy street. Paul watches him go for a moment, his heart fluttering.

As first dates go, he thinks as he carefully pulls onto the road, that might have been one of the best he's had.

But, then again... the last time he had a first date that went that well was with Jake.

Maybe he should've asked Justin if he has a secret wife and kids. Paul shudders to think how the date might've gone instead if he'd brought up his dirtbag — and very recent — ex-boyfriend. But, no, he trusts first of all that Keyla would've thoroughly interrogated him before setting this up. And Justin really doesn't seem like the type.

But, then again, neither did Jake.

Paul's thoughts bounce around in his head like this on the slow drive home, which really doesn't help when he's supposed to be concentrating. It feels like with every bump, every turn, the tree is going to slide off the roof. He’d forgotten in his excitement that a cute date with Justin picking out a Christmas tree would necessarily mean that he had to drive said Christmas tree home. And smuggle said Christmas tree — which is looking bigger and bigger in Paul's mind the more he thinks about it — into the house, and set it up without Keyla seeing. And then justify all of those decisions to Keyla while she stares him down...

As he approaches the wine store, another idea occurs to him. Thinking of ways to smooth things over with Keyla... wine would certainly help.

He parks carefully, checks the straps securing the tree to the car, checks them again, and checks them one final time before going inside. 

His mind wanders as he roams the aisles, occasionally pulling bottles he recognizes or that look interesting from the shelves. His date with Justin plays over and over, how smoothly the conversation flowed, that bright, genuine smile he gave him, the way he seemed genuinely interested the whole time, that moment when he held onto Paul as they climbed up onto the trunk of the car to adjust the Christmas tree —

He's startled out of his thoughts by his cart colliding with something solid. "Sorry — Hugh?”

It is Hugh, looking equally startled for a moment before his face relaxes.

"What are you doing here? Is my family already driving you crazy?" he jokes, nodding at the half-dozen bottles of wine in Hugh's cart.

"It's been great, actually! We did the Stamets family Christmas gift-wrapping party —

"Which definitely requires wine —

"Which was delightful," Hugh insists. "And then Jo made us cocoa, and now I'm here. We ran out of wine yesterday, apparently."

"Delightful, was it?" Paul smiles as his heart twists again. As great as his afternoon has been, he's never before missed a gift-wrapping party.

"And I wrapped everything according to your specifications. You can inspect my handiwork later," Hugh teases. "What about you?" He eyes the eight bottles in Paul's cart. "Date that bad?"

"The date was delightful as well," Paul laughs. "I... I think it went well. The wine is just to smooth things over with Keyla when I show her the real Christmas tree we picked up."

"You picked up a Christmas tree on your date?"

"Well, on the second half of our date."

"The second half of your date?" Hugh raises an eyebrow. "That sounds like it went more than 'well,' that sounds amazing!"

“Okay, maybe it was a little amazing.” Paul ducks his head, his ears growing warm again. “I don’t know.”

They set off towards the cash registers. “What do you mean you don’t know? Sounds like you really like him.”

“Yeah, but...” Paul sighs. “You and I both know I like the wrong guys.”

Hugh is quiet for a moment. Paul looks over to see a flicker of hesitation cross his face. He's holding back from saying something, choosing his words carefully like he always does. Paul loves that about him, even if he sometimes wishes Hugh would share the first thoughts that cross his mind.

“You know that’s not on you, right?” Hugh finally says as they stop at the checkout line. His gaze is soft, intent. 

“I mean, once or twice maybe... but seven times?” Paul laughs a little, looking back down at his hands. “You start to wonder at that point...”

“Look,” Hugh says, voice firm. “I don’t think it’s worth twisting yourself up in knots over this.”

“I don’t twist myself up...” Paul begins, but Hugh silences him with a look.

“You like him, he likes you, you had fun together today. You’ll have more fun together this whole week. Don’t think yourself out of it. Just... have fun.”

“No thinking, just fun,” Paul repeats. Hugh presses his lips together, fighting a smile. “Thanks,” he adds, and then, softer, “You’re the best.”

“I know.” Hugh turns to unload bottles onto the conveyer belt. “Now, how are we gonna get that tree past Keyla?”

***

Most of the family is in the sitting room when Paul and Hugh return. Thankfully, Keyla seems to be elsewhere for the moment. Hugh smiles to himself. Paul is quite literally buzzing beside him. 

“Good! You’re all here.” Everyone jumps and turns to look at them. Paul holds up a hand as they all open their mouths. “Yes the date went well, yes I promise you can ask me a million questions later, but right now, we have important business to attend to.”

Hugh suppresses a laugh as he watches Paul crane his neck to look into the hallway, up the stairs. “Ok,” he whispers, “I got a real Christmas tree. It’s on the car right now.”

Adira and Tilly silently cheer. “Paul...” Jo begins.

“I know, I know, but I’ll take care of everything Jo, I promise,” Paul hurriedly whispers. “I pinky promise in fact. But right now, we need your muscles. Book,” he calls softly as Book enters the room, “We need your muscles too.”

“Okay...” Book raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll explain outside. Adira, Gray, get the family ornaments out of the basement.” They spring up at once, grinning.

“Tilly, I need you to find K and distract her.”

“On it,” Tilly nods, solemn. “I think she was in the kitchen with Michael.”

They disperse, Hugh following Paul back out to the driveway. Now he's buzzing with excitement too. He, Paul, Book, and Jo make quick work of the tree. Adira and Gray remember to recover the old stand along with the ornaments. They dismantle the old tree, get the new one into position, sweep up the incriminating trail of pine needles, and are just beginning to hang ornaments when —

“What the fuck is going on here?”

They freeze, turn slowly as one to find Keyla glowering at them, arms crossed. Hugh shrinks back a little under her gaze. That woman can be damn scary when she wants to be. Behind her, Michael has a hand over her mouth, looking highly amused, and Tilly looks apologetic.

“K, listen,” Paul springs up, approaches her slowly, holding his hands out. “I will take care of changing the water and cleaning up needles, I promise you, I just think Christmas trees should be green and should smell like actual Christmas trees and I know you’ve been really busy but I’m here now and I can take care of everything, and...” He pauses to take a deep breath. Hugh catches the hesitant look on his face. “You should know I got this tree on my date with Justin, which went very well.” 

For a moment, Keyla doesn't let up. Everyone seems to be holding their breath. Then, her face softens, her shoulders relax, and Michael and Tilly take that as an invitation to cheer.

"I'm so glad!" Keyla smiles as the whole family swarms Paul, their questions spilling over each other. Hugh perches on the arm of the couch, letting everyone else crowd around him.

"Okay, okay." He catches a glimpse of Paul's beaming face. "Let's all calm down."

"Are you gonna go out again?" Tilly asks eagerly.

"Well, he said he'd text soon —

Paul's phone buzzes on the table. Everyone goes silent, looking at it as it buzzes again, then looking expectantly up at Paul.

"What?" Paul rolls his eyes. "It's just a text. It might not even be from him."

"Only one way to find out," Book grins, swiping the phone from the table and holding it out to Paul.

Paul sighs as he takes it, looking put-upon. But Hugh knows he's secretly enjoying the attention. Hugh watches him as he fights the smile that's threatening to spread over his face as he reads the text, struggles to look neutral as he looks back up at his family. "He wants to know if we can go skiing tomorrow."

Another outburst of cheers, hugs, pats on the back, eager questions. Hugh hangs back, watches them shower him with attention and affection. He's learned a lot about Paul in the ten years of their friendship, and a lot about his family, but he's never seen him interacting with all of them at once like this. He's learned even more in the past couple days about what makes Paul, Paul. The real Paul, the one you're fortunate enough to get to know more of the longer you spend with him. His energy, his sometimes relentless enthusiasm, how openly affectionate he can be. It all comes back to his family.

That feeling that flared in briefly in his chest at the wine store is back, lingering this time, settling slowly into his heart. Paul's eyes are shining, he's talking nonstop, he's practically glowing again. Hugh is so happy that Paul is so happy, so excited, so surrounded by love, especially after his most recent heartbreak. He's so happy for Paul it makes his heart ache. His heart aches to see him so happy. 

"Hey." He looks up to see Michael has detached herself from the crowd and is looking curiously at him, like she's puzzling something out. "You wanna give me a hand taking this fake tree down to the basement?"

"Sure." Hugh glances back at Paul, still surrounded by his family, still animatedly discussing the highlights of his date. He looks back at Michael, who inclines her head at the hallway, still with that curious expression on her face. He picks up a section of the tree and follows her into the basement.

In the basement, Michael shuts the tree away in a cabinet and then turns to face him, looking thoughtful. "So," she begins. "What are your thoughts on this blind date business?"

"Oh." Hugh frowns. He hadn't been expecting that. "Well..." he shrugs. "If Paul's happy, I'm happy." He's glad it worked out today, glad Paul's so happy... but the more Michael stares at him like that, the more aware he becomes of the twisty feeling in his chest, and the less that feeling feels like happiness.

"Hmm." Michael nods. She takes him in for another moment. Then, she seems to decide something. She turns to face him fully, folding her hands in front of her. Hugh gets the feeling he's about to be lectured. Paul makes the exact same face when Hugh's about to be lectured.

"You know..." she purses her lips, considering her words. "I've always thought you and Paul should be together."

Hugh blinks. "Um," he laughs, startled. She has to be joking, right? This is a joke about how people always assume two gay best friends should date each other. This is a joke about Hugh being practically family. "Sounds like you just want me in the family permanently," he laughs again.

"Well, yeah," Michael muses. "That'd definitely be easier than straight-up adopting you too." She cracks a smile before her face turns serious again. "But no. You're the first person Paul ever introduced to us that meant anything to him."

She says this calmly, matter-of-factly, but it throws something inside Hugh off-balance all the same.

"You're the only person, actually," she continues. "Of all the people who've entered Paul's life since he moved away. We can all see, every one of us, that he's happiest when he's with you."

"That — that can't be true," Hugh stammers. "I mean, you haven't seen him with his boyfriends..." You haven't seen the look on his face when he talks about them, Hugh thinks. You didn't see him at that party last week, talking to Jake.

"Well, that's because none of them lasted very long." She holds his gaze. "You lasted."

Hugh has to look away. His eyes gloss over the shelves and boxes and cabinets as his mind reels. Several thoughts threaten to click into place if he entertains them any further. He has to put a stop to this. "Well..." he tries again. "I'm his best friend. He's my best friend." Of course he's stuck around. That doesn't mean they're in love, that doesn't mean they have to be together...

"Hugh." Michael's voice is gentle. She draws his gaze back to her face, and there it is, that same look. The little knowing half-smile. The "oh, honey" look. "My husband is my best friend in the whole world. And I know Keyla and Jo would say the same of each other."

"We're best friends." Hugh whirls around to see Adira and Gray behind him. They must have followed them down to the basement. "We'd known each other for ten years before we got together," Gray says.

"We agree with Michael," Adira adds. "You and Paul should be together."

He and Paul have known each other for ten years too. Michael's words swim around in his head. You lasted. He's happiest when he's with you. And I'm happiest when I'm with him. The thought comes unbidden into his mind. He swats it away.

"Hugh." Adira looks a little concerned. "Say something?"

Hugh looks between them and Michael, shaking his head. "I..." I can't, he thinks. It can't happen. But why? another voice in the back of his mind asks. He shuts it down before it can say anything else.

Adira opens their mouth to say something else, but Michael holds up a hand, cutting them off. "I'm sorry for springing all this on you," she says, "but think about it. Okay?"

He looks at Michael, then Adira, then Gray. Their faces are set. They're not backing down.

All Hugh can do is nod.

"Good." Michael smiles, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "Go see if they need help finishing up with the tree. Adira, Gray, there might be one more box of ornaments down here, if you wouldn't mind helping me look?"

Hugh leaves them behind, walking back up the stairs without really feeling it. He can't bring himself to poke his head into the sitting room, so he heads straight upstairs to the guest room, collapses on the bed. 

But why? comes the voice again, and this time, he lets it in, lets all the thoughts he's been holding back rush in with a long, slow exhale. He and Paul have known each other for ten years. He's happiest when he's with Paul. They're best friends. Paul is beautiful. He's known him for so long and he still loves learning new things about him. He loves getting to see all the parts of Paul that have come out on this trip. He fell asleep in Paul’s arms yesterday. But that doesn’t necessarily mean —

"Hugh?" Paul's voice drifts up the stairs. Hugh slams the lid shut on those thoughts, stuffing them into the back of his brain again. It's probably close to dinnertime by now. He pulls a big smile onto his face and heads back downstairs before he can think too much again.

***

Adira rounds on Michael as soon as Hugh has disappeared up the stairs. "Why did you send him away? We were getting somewhere!"

"Patience." Michael stares at where Hugh was just standing, with that shocked, overwhelmed look on his face, with something else beginning to dawn across it. Realization, Michael thinks. Longing. Hope. "He's on his way. He'll get there on his own."

"Michael's right," Gray adds. "Did you see his face? He looked like... he looked like a lot of things were starting to make sense to him, all at once."

"Exactly," Michael beams at Gray. The kid has a way with words. "We have to give him time to think."

"Fine," Adira sighs, folding their arms. "What next?"

Michael has watched Paul and Hugh grow closer for ten years. She sees the way they look at each other, even if they themselves don't notice it. It's not inevitable that they fall in love, she thinks. They’re already in love. It’s long since happened. She's pretty sure they've been in love the whole time, and that everyone can see it but them.

She grins down at Adira and Gray. "All they need is a little push in the right direction."

Chapter Text

December 19

“Hugh?” Paul peers into the guest room to find it empty. He’s just about to step out when —

“Yeah?” Hugh steps out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes scan over Paul. “What are you wearing?”

“I was, um...” words fail Paul for a moment. “I’m going skiing,” he recovers, “With Justin, I’m leaving soon. Just wanted to come say hi first, since I’ll be gone all day.” He feels hot all of a sudden, underneath his many layers. He probably should’ve waited until he was out of the house before bundling up, in hindsight. 

“Where did you get that?” Hugh laughs, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“Family ski trip, twenty years ago.” It’s a neon green jacket that's somehow still baggy on him two decades later. “It’s bad, right?” he grimaces.

“No, it’s...” Hugh chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s kind of perfect.” He leans against the door frame, a fond little smile on his face. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Paul blurts out. He’s not entirely sure where the thought came from. But his heart is racing, his whole body is buzzing with... nerves. That must be it. “I don’t know... I don't know about this. And I don't want to leave you all alone with my family all day. Again. I feel bad." It's his third day out of ten, and already, Hugh has spent more time with his family than he has. And he hasn't been able to spend much time with Hugh, either.

"Hey." Hugh unfolds his arms, comes closer. Paul can see lingering droplets of water glinting in his hair, on his shoulders. One trickles down his neck, catching the morning sunlight as it falls to his chest. 

Hugh grips his arms, gazing at him with those warm brown eyes. Paul’s throat has gone suddenly, inexplicably dry. "Remember what we agreed on yesterday. No thinking, just fun. Right?"

"Right," Paul breathes. He can smell Hugh's soap, something fresh and citrusy. "No thinking, just fun."

"Besides," Hugh releases him, "I love spending time with your family! So don't feel bad about that. I'm sitting in on talent show prep at the queer youth group today."

"Aww, that's nice." Paul smiles at him, that little wistful ache blooming in his chest again. "You've spent more time with my family than I have so far," he sighs. "And now I'll be gone all day..."

"There's still plenty of time for you to spend with your family," Hugh reassures him. "You like this guy. You've already said yes. Give it a chance!"

"What if it doesn't go well?" Paul asks in a small voice.

"Then you don't have to go out with him again."

"Well... I guess."

"There you go!" Hugh grins and claps Paul's shoulder, making him jump. "Have fun today!"

"Thank you." Paul watches him walk across the room, back into the bathroom, and shut the door. He stares at the door for a moment, suddenly unable to remember what he was doing, until the sound of running water snaps him out of it. By the time Justin's car pulls up to the house, the buzzing under his skin has settled. "No thinking, just fun," he mutters as he steps out to meet him.

***

“Please,” Tilly is saying, “please can we pick another song?”

Most of the teenagers pay her no heed, too distracted by pizza and cookies.

“No can do Tilly,” Adira grins. “It’s our signature song.”

“It’s their signature song, Tilly,” Hugh repeats, with a wink at Adira.

“You’ve sung it once.” Tilly glares at Hugh. “Last year. That’s hardly a signature song!”

“So, we sing it a second time.” Gray pulls up a chair beside Adira, balancing his plate on his knees. “And then we sing it a third time next year. That makes it a signature song.”

"It literally only works because Myra and Roz can actually pull off those solos. The rest of you just kind of muddle through."

"So, we let Myra and Roz take the solos. And the rest of us muddle through," Adira grins. Hugh knows there's no winning them over.

Tilly throws her hands up. “Why are you all so obsessed with Seasons of Love?”

“Well, a dozen of us are queer theater kids,” Gray laughs, “and the rest of us don’t know any other songs.”

They continue to argue as Hugh’s gaze wanders around the room. He hadn’t known what to expect when Tilly invited him along to the community center for the meeting this morning, but it certainly wasn’t to be greeted with enthusiasm by almost two dozen kids. Tilly explained that the group has really grown since she started it four years ago. Back then, there were five regular members, two of whom were Adira and Gray. Now, they excitedly introduced him to twenty other kids, who seemed to have thousands of questions about him and his life. He found it surprisingly easy to talk with them. 

“Hey,” Tilly nudges him, bringing him back to the present. “Thanks for joining us today. These kids think you’re so cool.”

“I’ve had a great time,” Hugh smiles. “This is such a cool place you’ve built here, Tilly. I’m so glad these kids have this.”

“Ohh,” Tilly ducks her head, blushing. “Thank you.”

“What do you all do when you’re not putting on a talent show fundraiser?”

“It depends. Sometimes we just play games or watch movies. Sometimes we talk, share about our lives. Sometimes we vent our frustrations about, you know,” she gestures vaguely, “the state of the world. It’s just a space for these kids to... be. To be themselves and be around people like them.”

“That’s lovely,” Hugh smiles. It’s the kind of thing he would’ve loved to have when he was a kid.

In another ten minutes, Tilly gets up to start cleaning up the pizza boxes and rounding up the kids. Adira and Gray scoot closer to Hugh.

“So, what now?” Adira begins casually. “Are you gonna go rescue Paul from his date?”

“What?” Hugh laughs. “Paul doesn’t need to be rescued.”

“He doesn’t think he needs to be rescued.” Gray gives him a pointed look. “But when you show up, he’ll realize you’re the one he’s wanted to be with all along.”

Okay, so they’re still on this whole “he and Paul should be together” thing. Hugh rolls his eyes. “Look. I appreciate... whatever it is you’re trying to do for me. I think. But it just... isn’t like that.” 

“Right.” Adira clearly does not believe him. “What are you getting him for Christmas?”

“I’m not getting him anything for Christmas.”

“Seriously?” Their eyes go wide. “You’re really not getting him a present?”

“What? We don’t really do presents. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend.”

“Not at this rate,” Adira scoffs.

“Okay.” Hugh looks them both in the eye. “Listen. I don’t know where you got this idea that Paul and I need to be together —

“It’s not just us, Michael thinks so too!”

“It’s really obvious. To everyone.”

Hugh sighs. “But I’m gonna have to ask you both to drop this. Okay?”

"No promises," Adira grins. "Ooh! Let's take a selfie to send to Paul!"

It was worth a shot, Hugh thinks as they crowd around him.

***

“Aww, look!” Paul carefully holds his phone out to Justin to show him the picture Adira just texted him. “It’s Hugh with Adira and Gray. My youngest sibling and their boyfriend. They're at the community center with their queer youth group right now.”

“That’s so sweet,” Justin smiles. “But you should probably put your phone back in your pocket. We're pretty high up."

"True," Paul laughs. "It would be just like me to drop it." He carefully tucks it back into the pocket of his coat, making sure it's zipped up.

Cold wind bites at Paul's ears and stings the tip of his nose as the ski lift carries them back to the top of the mountain. He can feel his heart racing under five layers of winter clothing he hasn't worn in decades. That could be due to the fact that his legs are dangling out into empty air as they climb higher and higher, he thinks, or it could be because of Justin, pressed close to his side. He doesn't dwell on it.

"Have you brought Hugh home for the holidays before?"

“Actually, this is the first time he's been here for Christmas! I wasn't planning on it, but..." Paul hesitates, but he figures he might as well put everything out there. Let Justin know exactly what he's getting into. "I had a bad breakup. Like, last week, actually."

"Oh. I'm sorry. That... really sucks." Justin doesn't look concerned, just sympathetic, which is a good sign.

"Yeah. So, the whole plan was that Hugh and I were going to pretend we'd finally fallen in love after ten years."

"Really? Why?"

"Well..." Paul sighs. "That bad breakup was the latest in a long string of bad breakups, actually. And every year when I come home my family makes a big fuss about it, like they're worried I'll never find love, or whatever... and I didn't want to hear about it."

"I see," Justin chuckles. He doesn't seem to want to run away screaming now that Paul has told him all about his shit luck with relationships, which is good. Then again, they are trapped on a ski lift together. “That’s really cool of him to do that for you. Hugh sounds like a really good friend.”

“Absolutely! He’s my best friend. He's one of a kind, really.”

“How’d you two meet?”

Paul laughs at the memory. “It’s a great story. So I had just started my Ph.D. and I was working on my research in this little cafe near campus. And Hugh was there, a few tables away, also doing research. He’d just started med school — though neither of us knew that at the time. About each other I mean, obviously, Hugh knew he was in med school.”

“Obviously,” Justin smiles.

“And anyway, he was a few tables away but close enough for me to hear him humming something horrible. Like truly awful. He still insists it was something from La Boheme. I tell him you can’t hum opera.”

“That’s really difficult to get right, I’d think.”

“Exactly! So I finally snapped and I told him to either stuff it or go sit somewhere else, far away from me. And you know what he did?”

“What?”

“He got up and like meticulously gathered his things — he was spread out over like a table meant for four people, and he says I’m disorganized — and he got up and sat down right next to me.” Paul feels the grin on his face freezing in place in the icy air.

Justin throws his head back laughing. “That’s incredible! I like him already!”

“And he’s been there ever since. Right by my side." Paul looks out at the snowy mountainside rising to meet them. "It's been... wow, it's been over ten years now, I think." It feels like they've known each other longer than that, Paul thinks. It feels like Hugh has always been a part of his life.

“Oh, wow! So he's your oldest friend?”

"My oldest and truest, yeah." Paul turns back to Justin. "Hugh's been there for me through... a lot."

"Have you two ever... I mean, have you ever thought about..." Justin raises an eyebrow, blushing a little.

"Oh! No," Paul laughs, "no, no never." An image of Hugh from this morning flashes into his mind. He bats it away. "No," he adds again, for good measure.

"Sorry," Justin winces, "I know everyone asks that about two gay friends —

"No, I understand," Paul waves him off, "Hugh and I get that a lot. We have known each other forever, after all. That was kind of our thinking when we got here, that it'd be easy enough to sell the narrative that we finally got together when that's what so many people expect us to do."

"But then Keyla and Jo ruined the plan," Justin laughs.

"No," Paul holds his gaze. "Keyla and Jo came up with a much better idea."

"Oh." Justin's face softens, his cheeks turning pink. "I, um..." He hesitates for a moment. "I'm not taking you away from your family, am I? I know you're here to spend time with them —

"I'm happy to be here with you," Paul says firmly, earning another little smile from Justin. It's these tiny, soft smiles of his that he likes the most, Paul decides. "I'll have plenty of time to spend with my family — and believe me, they're all very happy that I'm here too."

"That's nice of them."

"Sort of," Paul chuckles. "I think part of it is that they want me to move back home."

"Oh!" Justin's eyes go wide. "Are you thinking about it?"

Lately, it's been on his mind more and more. "A little," he confesses. "I don't know..."

"I mean, you have your job to think about, right?" Justin offers.

"True. I mean, I wouldn't miss it that much," Paul shrugs. "I teach intro biology to freshmen, mostly. And one genetic engineering and society class that's actually pretty cool, but only because no one else wants to teach it."

"You don't teach mycology?"

"I've wanted to for years now," he sighs, "but I've never been approved."

"Ah, that's a shame," Justin tuts. "It's a fascinating subject. It'd be an interesting course, even for people who don't want to specialize."

"That’s what I keep saying! But, no luck.”

They pass a couple moments talking about their research and teaching, as they slowly move closer and closer to the top of the hill. 

"You know..." Paul's face feels warm, even as the wind picks up. "I, um... I really appreciated our conversation yesterday, about our research and all that. To be honest... I'm not usually good at talking about it. I don't usually really like to talk about it, I mean... what's fascinating to me isn't usually to someone else, you know?"

"I know the feeling," Justin nods. “It's hard watching people's eyes glaze over, right as you think you're getting to the good part —

"Exactly! Sorry," Paul winces, "I didn't mean to interrupt. But yeah, that's part of it. And even with other academics, there's just... this impulse to downplay it, right? Any time someone asks about it, all I can think of are my failures, my setbacks, the feeling like I haven't done enough..." He glances over at Justin, suddenly aware of how much of his mind he's shared. But Justin only looks interested, contemplative. 

"You're not alone in that," he finally says. "It's certainly something I've felt... I think it's something every academic feels, honestly."

“But I didn’t feel that way with you,” Paul smiles. “So... thank you for that.”

The ski lift slows as it reaches the top of the hill. “I... felt good about talking with you too,” Justin says. “And I’d really love to hear more. I, uh... I kinda love hearing you talk.”

The earnest, slightly hopeful look on his face stirs something in Paul's chest. "I’ll just... have to talk even more, I guess,” he chuckles as the lift judders to a stop. He's rewarded again with that little smile he's come to like so much.

***

“Typical,” Keyla huffs from somewhere behind the tree. “Paul spontaneously brings home a tree, promises to take care of it, and here I am, doing the actual work.”

Only because she refused to let Hugh do anything to help. But he’d never say that out loud. So instead, he stays sitting on the couch. 

Adira is braver than he is, though. “Well, he’d probably be here to help you if he wasn’t on that date you set up for him.” They give Hugh a knowing glance. He doesn’t return it.

With a rustle, Keyla’s face appears to frown at Adira. “Okay, fair point.”

“Okay, look at what I found at the general store!” Tilly bursts in with an armful of shopping bags. She dumps them on the couch and pulls out... a pair of earmuffs with antlers on them. “They’re so cute! Aren’t they just so cute?”

“Real cute,” Hugh agrees, earning him a dazzling smile. 

“Yay! I got one for everyone!” She upends the shopping bags beside Hugh and a heap of earmuffs, a box of assorted candy canes, and a stuffed monkey in a Santa hat falls out. “He was too cute not to buy,” she answers Hugh’s raised eyebrow.

“Fair enough.” Hugh takes a pair and settles them over his ears. They’re surprisingly soft.

“These are so soft,” he murmurs. He can barely hear his own quiet voice. Even Tilly, talking animatedly a foot away, sounds muffled.

He pulls the earmuffs down and Tilly's voice sharpens. “ — good quality, right? They were only five bucks a pair!”

She hands a pair each to Adira and Gray, who put them on and immediately pose for selfies. Keyla eyes them with skepticism.

“I’m not putting those on —

“You’ll wear them because your baby sister bought them for you and you love me.” Hugh stifles a laugh. Tilly can go from cheery to threateningly cheery in an instant.

Keyla meekly accepts the earmuffs, and Tilly’s dazzling grin brightens even more. “There’s a pair for Michael and Book when they get here — oh, here’s one for Jo when she gets back from work!” She tosses Keyla another pair.

“Tilly!” Keyla barely catches it. “Don’t throw things at me, how many times —

“Sorry! Sorry, I got excited,” Tilly winces. “But they’re soft! And you caught them! And here’s one for Paul!” She hands Hugh another pair.

“Who’s that last pair for then?”

Tilly turns bright red.

“Oooh, it’s for Airiam, isn’t it?” Adira grins.

“Aww! That’s so cute!” Gray makes a little heart at her with his hands.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, and they dissolve into giggles. “I’m leaving!” She gathers up the earmuffs, candy canes, and the monkey.

“You’ll be coming over for dinner, right?” Keyla asks.

“Yep!”

“You wanna bring Airiam?”

“No!” She says it too quickly. “No, not today.” 

“Tilly! You still haven’t invited her to Christmas dinner?”

“I will! I will today, I promise.” She looks flustered.

Hugh reaches out to steady her. “Hey. You got this. You can do this, okay?”

“Okay.” Tilly slowly exhales. “Okay. I can do this.” 

They cheer her on as she heads back out the door, still pink in the face. “Good luck!” Hugh calls again as she pulls the door shut.

“Shouldn’t Paul be back by now?” Adira checks their phone. “It’s past three. Let me text him —”

“No!” Keyla appears from behind the tree again, waving a hand vacuum at them. “Don’t text him. Just let him enjoy his date, okay?”

“Skiing is kind of an all-day thing,” Hugh adds. “Plus, he said he’d be back for dinner.” Hugh has been wondering about Paul, too, his mind drifting back to him every now and then, but he can’t admit that, or Adira and Gray would immediately pounce.

They pounce anyway. Adira leans in and lowers their voice so Keyla can’t hear. “There’s still time for you to go rescue him, you know?” 

“Swoop in and confess your love and whisk him away,” Gray adds, leaning in beside them.

“Once again,” Hugh puts on his firmest voice. The strict doctor voice he uses when he knows his patients are keeping something from him. “I’m telling you, it isn’t like that. Drop it. Seriously, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Adira sighs, holding up their hands. “Fine. We’ll drop it.” Gray nods his agreement.

Hugh doesn’t quite believe them, but he decides to let it slide for now. Adira goes to find a deck of cards and Hugh leans back into the couch, his mind inevitably drifting back to Paul.

***

The sun is just beginning to sink behind the hill when they decide to call it a day. “This was so fun!” Paul turns to Justin as they return their gear. “I had... I had a lot of fun with you today. Thank you.”

“I had fun too.” Justin returns his smile, his cheeks pink from the cold. “You’re really good at this for someone who hasn’t been skiing in twenty years.”

“Only because you’re such a good teacher,” Paul laughs. Half the morning was spent with Justin slowly going over the basics with him, and Paul repeatedly falling over. Somehow, though, Paul never found himself worrying about what Justin thought of him. “No thinking, just fun” is working. Or maybe Justin is just a really good guy.

They look at each other for a moment, Justin’s eyes gleaming, his breath turning to fog in the winter air. Then he’s reaching for the front of Paul’s jacket, and Paul finds himself being pulled into a kiss. 

Paul sighs against his lips, his arms slide around Justin's waist. It's a soft, steady kiss, and over far too soon. Justin pulls back a little, his eyes sparkling, their noses just barely touching. 

"That was, um..." Paul gulps, his voice coming out in a rough whisper. "That was really nice." He hates that he couldn't think of anything better to say... but Justin, once again, doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, his smile gets even bigger, his cheeks flush pinker.

"Should we, um..." Justin's breath is warm on Paul's face. "Should we get a drink?"

"Yes we should —" Paul's phone buzzes in his pocket. Then again, and again. "Hang on." He fumbles with the zipper, eventually fishing his phone out to see that Adira has sent him a flood of pictures. His phone keeps buzzing in his hands as they keep coming.

"Aww... look." He shuffles to Justin's side so they can swipe through the pictures together. Hugh with his arms around Adira and Gray, Hugh sandwiched between Book and Michael, Hugh with Keyla and Jo, a selfie of them all crowding around the Christmas tree, with Keyla half out of the frame... and everyone sporting matching fuzzy earmuffs with antlers in every picture.

"The antlers are probably Tilly's doing," Paul sighs. It's just now past 5:00 — he's been here for eight hours, it's already getting dark out... he looks over to see that Justin is coming to the same conclusion as he is.

"Actually..." Paul begins —

"You want to go home and spend time with your family," Justin finishes. "I totally understand." There's no trace of resentment or disappointment that Paul can detect in his face. "Family comes first. We can grab that drink some other time?"

"Soon. I'd really love to. And thank you." Paul pulls him close again. "For today, for being so understanding... I, um... I really like you."

There's that soft little smile. "I really like you too."

It’s already dark outside when Justin drops him back at the house half an hour later, with promises to call and text soon. Paul bundles his jacket in his arms and makes his way slowly up the drive —

“Hey!”

Paul jumps. “Hey yourself! Where did you come from?”

“I saw Justin pull up,” Hugh explains as he draws closer. Paul stops beside him in front of the porch steps and takes him in, a pair of earmuffs around his neck, a gentle smile on his face, lit orange-gold in the porch light. “So?” He prompts after a moment. “How was the date?”

“It was... kind of amazing.”

***

“Look,” Adira whispers over their shoulder, beckoning Gray to their perch at the window. “Look at them.”

Gray joins them, pulling back the curtain a little more. “Don’t be so obvious!” Adira nudges him. “They’ll see us!”

“Sorry,” he laughs, nudging them back.

Outside, Paul looks down at his feet as he says something, scuffing his toe in the snow. Even in the dim light, Adira can tell that Paul is blushing. Hugh’s face lights up in response.

"It's so obvious," they sigh. "They are so clearly in love with each other. How come only Michael sees what we see?"

"How come they can't see it? It's written all over their faces!" Gray shakes his head. "Like, they're literally making heart eyes at each other right now."

"Why are you looking out the window?" Tilly comes up behind them, with Keyla and Jo in tow. "Is that Paul? Is he back?"

Adira waves her over. "Okay, just look at them." Tilly leans over their shoulder to get a better glimpse. "Two people who look at each other like that are clearly not just friends!"

Tilly gasps. "You're so right! Look at those heart eyes!"

"That's what I said!" Gray laughs.

"Oh come on," Keyla rolls her eyes. "Paul's probably just telling Hugh how great his date with Justin was! You're reading too much into it."

Jo threads her arm through Keyla's. "I don't know, K..." she muses. "I mean, I've seen that look on your face before."

"Oh, stop," Keyla mumbles, resting her head on Jo's shoulder. 

"What's happening?" Michael and Book join them at the window.

Adira frantically waves them away. "Not too many people!" they hiss. "They'll see us!"

"Ohh, how sweet." Book takes Tilly's place at Adira's shoulder. "Are they finally confessing their love for each other?"

"One can only hope," Adira sighs.

Michael lays a hand on Book’s shoulder. "Maybe Hugh actually listened to me!" 

"What do you mean?" Keyla rounds on Michael, narrowing her eyes. "What did you say to him?"

***

"Sounds like an amazing date." Hugh smiles, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I'm really happy for you, Paul."

"Thank you," Paul smiles back. “And I saw you had a good time today. Adira sent me tons of pictures.” It dawns on him now how much he missed Hugh all day, and his family. Now that he’s home and Hugh is in front of him, something eases in his chest, like a knot unraveling. “I missed out,” he sighs. “I missed... everyone.”

"Well, you do have a whole week still," Hugh offers. "And I'm sure your other dates won't take all day."

"I know, but..." Paul takes a deep breath. "I only have so much time here. Not just now, but every year, and... I don't like that." The thoughts that have been lingering at the back of his mind all day now take full shape, flowing freely out of his mouth. "All day I was just... I just wanted to be here too. And it's not just now, it's... all the time, all year, the past six years, really."

Paul feels lighter with every word. "I want to go on dates, I want to be in a relationship, and I also want to come to Keyla's or Michael's for dinner. I want to have a social life, I want to be around other queer people who aren't my family, and I also want to help decorate the house for Christmas right after Thanksgiving dinner. I want to help Book hang up lights or help Jo garden and fix stuff around the house or help Tilly run the queer youth group. Hell, I want to teach Adira how to drive!" Everything he's missed out on in the past ten years comes flooding into his mind. All the little moments of his family's lives, and all the little moments they've missed in his life. "I don't want it to be this... one or the other thing for the rest of my life. Like I'm in LA and I can work and date and have a social life, and then I come home for ten days a year and I can see my family..."

"So... what are you saying?" Hugh asks gently. He's gazing at him like he already knows the answer. Looking at him, Paul realizes he already knows the answer too. He's known it for a long time, in fact. It's just never felt like a real answer until today.

"I'm saying... I want to move back home."

***

"You're just pushing this Justin person because you set them up!" Adira argues. "You have to look at what's actually happening here, K."

"No, you do!" Keyla snaps. "Listen — back when they first met, when Paul first introduced him to us, we all thought they'd eventually get together —

"I know, I assumed they already were!" they interject.

"But," Keyla glares at them, "it's been ten years and nothing's happened, and at some point, we just have to accept that! Do they love each other? Yes, obviously. But are they in love? Apparently not!"

"Oh, you know Paul can't pick up on his own feelings, much less Hugh’s,” Tilly chimes in. Grudge, curled up in her lap, purrs her agreement. “He needs to be smacked in the face with it!”

“What he needs is for us to be supportive of him.” Jo’s voice is measured, firm. “This needs to be about what he wants, not what we want.”

“And what he wants is Hugh.” Michael’s voice is just as firm. “I’m certain. You’ve seen how he lights up around him, you’ve heard how he talks about him. And it’s what Hugh wants too.”

“You’re just saying that because that’s what you told him!”

“He needed to be told, K. Paul might just be totally clueless, but Hugh... he doesn’t even let himself think about what he wants, what would make him happy. He needed that push, he needed us to get him thinking about it.”

“Oh, because you know Hugh so well —

“We all do!” Tilly exclaims. “Because it’s been ten years, and because Paul never shuts up about him, because he’s hopelessly, desperately in love with him! Sorry,” she adds as Grudge gives her a baleful look. “I didn’t mean to get so excited.”

“And because he’s family. You said it yourself.” Michael stares at Keyla, neither of them backing down. 

“I don’t like this,” Keyla says finally, folding her arms. “I don’t like you all meddling.”

“Meddling!” Tilly’s eyes go wide. “You’re the one who got him a surprise blind date!”

“Fair point, darling,” Jo chuckles.

“That wasn’t meddling!” Keyla’s voice is defensive. “It was just one date, it’s not like I’m trying to force a relationship on him! I was just looking out for him!”

“We’re not trying to force anything either!” Adira shoots back. “We’re just trying to... to...”

“Help them see what’s already there,” Gray finishes for them. “Help them realize what they already know.” 

“And I’m telling you, what you think is there isn’t actually there!”

“Okay, okay!” Book waves his arms, silencing everyone. “Listen. Jo’s right. This has to be about what Paul wants.”

“Thank you, Book.”

“But...” he continues. “Tilly’s also right.”

“I am? I mean, yeah I am!”

“Paul wouldn’t know what he wants unless it hit him in the face. And Michael’s right too — because she’s always right.” He gives his wife a dazzling smile.

“Blatant favoritism,” Keyla mutters.

“Hugh also needs the opportunity to realize what it is he wants. They both do. So...” he rubs his hands together, a gleam in his eye. “I propose we create that opportunity.”

“We give them a reason to spend more time together,” Michael grins, catching on.

“They’re already roommates and best friends,” Jo points out. “How much more time do they need to spend together?”

“But now they’re here, in a new environment!” Tilly lights up. “It’s snowing, it’s Christmas, they’re in a tiny town together, it’s all romantic —

“It’s straight out of a cheesy Christmas movie!” Gray laughs. 

“So then what’s the falling in love montage?” Adira asks. Everyone gives them a strange look. “What? You know! The part of the cheesy Christmas movie where there’s a montage of the love interests spending time together, doing some holiday-related activity, while like a jazzy version of Deck the Halls or whatever plays in the background!”

“What holiday-related activities can they do together?” Michael thinks.

“Oh!” Tilly cries. Grudge mews in protest, moves to settle in Adira’s lap instead. “Sorry,” Tilly winces, “but the talent show! We could have them help out with the talent show! Lord knows we need it. No offense,” she hastily adds, glancing at Adira and Gray.

“No, that’s fair,” Gray laughs.

“Ooh! Paul could be our accompanist! We've got the finale song —”

"Seasons of Love again?" Jo chuckles.

"It's our signature song!" Adira says defensively, just as Tilly rolls her eyes. "Plus, we have other people singing or playing instruments. I know Paul's been itching to play the piano since he got here."

"Yeah! And Hugh could help me with... staging or something. Or keeping an eye on the kids. I don't know," Tilly shrugs. "We'll figure something out for him. He loved hanging out with us this morning anyway."

"Okay, I don't see how this isn't meddling," Keyla pipes up. But Adira can tell she's getting excited too. Her resolve is slowly crumbling.

"Think of it this way, dear sister," Book turns on his most charming smile for her. "Paul still has a chance to explore his connection with Justin thanks to your excellent blind date idea —

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Book," Keyla grumbles, but the corner of her mouth quirks up.

"And we are simply creating ideal conditions in which Paul and Hugh can explore their connection. Ultimately, it's still up to them."

"A little push in the right direction," Michael adds, winking at Adira and Gray. "That's all it is."

They all look expectantly to Keyla. "What?" she finally asks. "Why are you all looking at me? I know you're gonna do whatever you want, no matter what I say."

"I'll take that as a yes," Adira beams. 

“Family council adjourned?” Book gives Keyla a hopeful smile.

“Stop trying to make that a thing!” Keyla groans. “It’s not a thing!”

Book’s smile only gets wider.

“Fine.” Keyla rolls her eyes. “Adjourned.”

***

“I want to move back home.”

“Oh.” Hugh's face falls. He looks away for a long moment, turning to the driveway so his face is cast in shadow. Paul can't tell what he's thinking. His heart begins to pick up speed. It felt right, and it still does — he wants to move back home. It's a wave of relief, that thought, his mind feels clear for the first time in a long time. But it's huge, it's a huge deal — and it's a huge thing to drop on Hugh right now, Paul realizes more and more the longer Hugh takes to say something. He itches to fill the silence... but he fights down the impulse, leaving space for Hugh to say something, anything.

“You must really like this guy,” Hugh finally says, turning back to look at him with a not-quite-there smile. “If he’s got you thinking about all this, I mean.”

“Oh. Well...” Paul frowns. That’s not the response he was expecting. “I mean, it’s only been two dates. I guess... he was kind of the final straw?”

Hugh says nothing, inviting him to go on.

“I’ve... spent the last ten years thinking that I can’t have everything I want in one place. But coming home, and meeting Justin... and what Jo said, remember? That things have changed a lot in the last ten years... I guess I realize now that I can have the life I want. Here.”

“Right,” Hugh nods. “Yeah.” He lets out a slow exhale, the mist of his breath glowing orange in the porch light.

“I mean what do I even have in LA anyway? I have a job I don’t love, an overpriced apartment... I have friends I like, but you’re the only person I love...” It would hurt to leave Hugh behind. That's the one real downside he can think of. But Hugh could still be a part of his life, even if he moved home... he'd have to be, Paul decides. He's far too important to lose.

"Well." Hugh smiles, but it twists a little. "I, uh... would... really miss you." He gazes at Paul like he's drinking him in, eyes shining.

"I would really miss you too," Paul murmurs. His heart aches just thinking about it. 

A tiny thought unfurls in the back of his mind. He could ask Hugh to come with him. But no... no, he couldn't. Hugh's life is in LA, right? He loves his job, and his friends, and just because he's so good with Paul's family doesn't mean he'd want to permanently move here to be with them... no. It's a nice thought, but he can't let it take root, only to be even more crushed when it doesn't work out.

"It's not official, I guess," he says instead, shivering slightly. He's been standing here with his jacket bundled in his arms for too long, he realizes. "I don't want to like announce it yet. I'm just... seriously thinking about it." He shivers again.

"Here." Hugh steps forward, taking the earmuffs from around his neck and fitting them over Paul's ears.

"Oh. Thanks. But now you'll be cold, won't you?" His voice sounds muffled.

Hugh's eyes go soft, he murmurs something Paul doesn't catch. Paul points to the earmuffs. "What did you say?"

Hugh takes a step closer as Paul pulls the earmuffs down. "I said I..." A flicker of hesitation crosses his face. "I wanted to show you something," he says. "Come here."

He leads Paul a little ways down the driveway, so they can see the whole house in front of them. Paul realizes Hugh has a little remote in his hand. Hugh clicks a button — and the house is suddenly alight and dazzling. Golden lights trail down the roof, red and green frame the windows and wind around posts, blue icicles drip from the porch railing.

“We just finished the lights a little while ago,” Hugh murmurs. “I wanted to wait until you got home to turn them on.”

"It's beautiful," Paul whispers. Hugh's face is awash in light and color, soft and relaxed. "Thank you." He slips his arm through Hugh's, fondness welling up in his heart. Hugh leans into his touch. "Thank you for doing this. Thank you for... you."

Arm in arm, they walk back to the house.

Chapter Text

December 20

"Okay! Great! Let's run through it one more time!"

Hugh watches as Paul rolls his sleeves up past the elbow, takes a breath to steady himself, his fingers hovering over the piano keys. A moment later, with a silent count-down and a nod to the choir, the opening notes to "Seasons of Love" ring out for the third time that morning.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes...

Tilly gave Hugh the title of "co-director" of the talent show, but so far, he hasn't been given much to do. As he understands it, his job is to help Tilly wrangle the kids, swap out chairs and music stands and microphones between acts, keep track of who is doing what and when, and generally help keep things running smoothly. In another half hour, he'll order them all pizza. It's a pretty good gig, especially considering all the time he gets to spend watching Paul play the piano.

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee...

Most people who meet Paul Stamets... well, most people think he's kind of an asshole. Hugh smiles to himself, remembering their first meeting. "Excuse me! You, with the god-awful humming. Either stuff a sock in it, or go sit somewhere else!" That was the very first thing Paul ever said to him.

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife...

He's still not entirely sure what compelled him to pick up and sit down right next to the grouchy blonde guy two tables away. Something about him had just fascinated and delighted Hugh — his honesty, maybe, the way he just said exactly what he was thinking. He just had to get to know him. So, he did.

He'd soon learn that the fascinating and delightful thing about Paul is that he refuses to hide who he is. Most people just don't look at him long enough to really see him. So, most people who meet Paul Stamets for a few moments in time walk away thinking he's kind of an asshole, or aloof, or arrogant, or just uninteresting. But the people who stick around, the people who insist on getting to know him... they eventually get to see all the beautiful facets of him. Hugh has been looking at him for ten years, and he treasures every side of him he gets to see. 

Like this, the side of Paul that pours his whole heart into his music. Hugh loves this side of Paul, on the rare occasion he brings it out. His whole body seems to move with the music, his shoulders rolling with every crescendo. They reach a softer moment in the song, and his eyes slide half-closed, a smile stretching slowly across his face. Then the song swells again, and his eyes are intense, focused, bright... Hugh is completely captivated.

How about looooove...

Some of the kids had rolled their eyes and scoffed at Paul when rehearsals began this morning, when he jumped right into it with an abundance of suggestions and a level of enthusiasm that they read as arrogance. By now, though, they've all warmed up to him, and the way they match his playing with the emotion in their voices makes this the best run-through they've had yet. Tilly was right — Myra and Roz really are carrying the performance, but everyone else can at least carry a tune, and what the others lack in musical training, they make up for in heart. And the way Paul brings that out in them even more... it's a joy to watch.

It's time now to sing out though the story never ends...

Hugh's mind drifts back to their conversation last night, as it has every now and then, all morning. Paul wants to move back home. Hugh should've seen that coming.

Let’s celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends... 

He thinks a small part of him did see it coming — he wasn't exactly surprised when Paul said it. It felt more like something crucial had finally clicked into place, like he'd been turning a question over and over in the back of his mind until finally, the answer arrived, a bolt of clarity. Of course Paul wants to move back home. He's been the happiest version of himself, the most whole version of himself, ever since he got here. Here, he can be the Paul who lights up the dinner table, the Paul who showers his siblings with affection, the Paul who comes alive at the piano. Like he said, he can have everything he wants here.

And Paul is so beautiful here, Hugh thinks. If being here makes him shine like that... what is Hugh supposed to say in the face of that? No, don't go? I'd miss you too much? 

"That was amazing!" Paul's voice breaks Hugh out of his thoughts. "That was so good! Seriously! You're gonna kill it on Friday!"

Tilly steps in to suggest they take a break. That's Hugh's cue to order the pizza. The kids break into smaller huddles and drift around the room, chattering away. Paul compliments Myra on eir solo — "that last high note was perfect!" before jogging over to Hugh.

"Hey!" He leans against the wall beside Hugh. Hugh jolts a little as their arms brush. "That was amazing, right?" 

"It was!" Hugh's heart stutters at Paul's bright smile. Everything about him now has become something Hugh will soon miss...

He shuts the thought away, leans in so Paul can read the menu he's pulled up on his phone, ignoring how his heart picks up as they press closer together. If these are some of the last days he'll spend with Paul, he's determined to be fully present, determined to make them count.

***

December 23

The days pass in a blur of festivity and fun. Paul spends every morning at the community center, every afternoon with Hugh and at least one of his siblings — at Tilly’s apartment, helping her hang up some last-minute decorations, at Michael and Book’s for lunch, at the mall with Adira and Gray — and every evening at Keyla and Jo’s for family dinner. With each passing day, he finds himself settling further into this routine, only to be jolted out of it just when he’s getting comfortable by the reminder that he’s leaving next week.

Not for long, though. Not this time. This time... he doesn't know how, or when, or what he needs to do to make it happen, but he's coming back. For good. 

But that means leaving Hugh behind, doesn't it?

And so it goes. Paul cycles through these emotions, over and over and over. He's home. He's leaving. He's coming back. He's leaving Hugh. He's home with Hugh. They're leaving soon. He's coming back. He's coming back alone. His heart lifts and sinks and lifts and sinks again. It's kind of exhausting.

Justin texts and calls every day, and every evening Paul lays on his stomach in his bed, giggling into his phone like he's a teenager with a crush on the cute boy in his chemistry class again. They don't meet up for a few days — Justin is trying to finish up some work so he can, as he puts it, "turn his brain off from Christmas to New Year's" and fully enjoy the holidays. Paul, of all people, understands that. There's a mountain of writing and funding applications and lesson planning waiting for him just over the horizon of the new year, but he can't bring himself to attend to any of that right now, not when there are snowball fights to be had and hot chocolate to be drunk and music to be played... and Hugh to spend time with.

It's been a while since they've had this kind of time to spend together. It’s been even longer since he’s seen Hugh this relaxed. He catches himself staring at Hugh a lot as the days pass. At the soft, happy glow on his face. At the tiny crinkles around his eyes when he smiles. At the flush in his cheeks after an afternoon spent outside in the snow. At him leaning against the wall during talent show rehearsals, at the corner of his mouth that quirks up when he catches Paul looking at him.

Hugh is out shopping with Michael right now so they can bake cookies together this afternoon, and Paul once again finds himself thinking about how Hugh fits right in alongside his family, like he's been there all along. Michael has been reminding Hugh, and everyone else, that he's family at least once a day, but what's really driven that point home for Paul is watching him come alive in new ways during their stay here. He seems freer, like the guard he works hard to keep up has slipped, letting more and more of his real self out. The Hugh who tries to hum opera while he works, the Hugh who throws a snowball at the back of Paul's head and collapses into giggles when confronted about it, the Hugh who gets into a deep, animated discussion that lasts for hours about Star Trek and the power of science fiction and storytelling about the future with Gray and Michael. The warm, silly, passionate person that Paul has spent ten years slowly and persistently cracking Hugh open to find.

He’s really gonna miss that. 

You could ask him to move here with you. There’s that little voice in the back of his head again. He’s been thinking in circles about it for days. Hugh loves it here. But Hugh’s life is in LA. And Paul can’t ask him to leave everything behind just because he would miss him too much —

“We’re back!” Michael bustles into the sitting room, Hugh behind her, his arms laden with shopping bags. He must have insisted on carrying them all. Paul jumps up to help him take them to the kitchen, taking half the bags and unpacking their contents before he can protest. 

“How many cookies were you planning on making?” It looks to Paul like they've purchased enough flour and eggs to feed the whole town.

"Well, there are ten of us." Hugh unloads sugar, butter, bags and bags of chocolate chips, begins to arrange everything neatly across the countertop. Paul steps back to let him do his thing. "Plus the youth group kids. Plus Airiam. Plus the neighbors. Plus Keyla and Jo's colleagues and Michael's colleagues and Book's colleagues and Tilly's colleagues..."

"So basically the whole town," Paul laughs. 

"Basically," Hugh shrugs, now folding the empty grocery bags and stacking them neatly at one end of the counter. Because of course he is. A surge of affection for him wells up in Paul's chest. 

"Oh no!" Michael rushes in, clutching her phone, already putting her coat back on. "Work just called — something came up. I have to go handle this. Right now. I'm so sorry, Hugh."

Hugh narrows his eyes at her. "Really? I thought Town Hall was closed for the holidays already?"

"It is. That was the shelter. Book says they need extra people."

"Hmm. And there's no one else they could call?" Hugh sounds suspicious. Paul can't think why.

"No," Michael says shortly. "I'm sorry I can't help bake cookies... oh!" Her face lights up. "Paul! You can help!"

"Yeah, right," Paul snorts as Hugh rolls his eyes. Michael doesn't laugh. "Wait. Seriously? You want me to bake things?" He’s not bad at cooking. But he is horrible at baking. Despite his best efforts, something always goes wrong. 

"Oh, stop, it's not that hard. It's just chocolate chip cookies. Even you couldn't mess that up.

"Trust me, I'll find a way."

"Well, Hugh will be there the whole time!"

"Yeah, I'll be doing all the actual work." Hugh shakes his head at Michael. "And let me guess, no one else will be home any time soon?"

"Right." Why does Michael have that sly grin on her face? "K and Jo are at work until after six, Tilly's at Airiam's, Adira and Gray are at Gray's place watching Hallmark Christmas movies with some friends. You have the house to yourself for at least the next... five hours?"

"Great," Hugh rolls his eyes again.

Michael whirls around and exits the kitchen. "Use your time wiiisely..." she sings over her shoulder. Paul hears the front door close a moment later.

"So..." Paul turns back to Hugh. "Uh... what should I do?"

Hugh is frowning at the oven, muttering under his breath. Paul catches the words "three racks" and "nine minutes." He's running calculations in his head. Because of course he is.

"Okay," he finally says, clapping his hands together. He turns to face Paul, a grin stretching across his face. "Follow my instructions exactly. We have a lot of work to do."

***

Hugh knows exactly what Michael is doing. But right now, he finds, he doesn't mind at all.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful...

The first thing Paul does, of course, is turn on the Christmas music. "Because," he reasons, "you can't bake Christmas cookies without Christmas music! Without the Christmas music, they're just regular cookies!" It only takes three songs for Paul to come alive, to start tapping his feet and swaying and shuffling around while Hugh carefully measures ingredients. It only takes two more songs for him to start singing along — "Ooh, I love this one!" he exclaims when Let It Snow comes on — and by then, Hugh's smile feels permanent, his heart feels too big for his chest.

But if you really hold me tight, all the way home I"ll be warm...

And so, Hugh bakes, and Paul dutifully follows his instructions when he remembers to give them, while also doing his best to distract him. He measures out ingredients while Paul somehow manages to get flour all over both of their sweaters. He mixes batter and bats away Paul's hand whenever he tries to sneak his fingers into the bowl, finally promising him he can lick the spatula clean afterward to get him to stop. He watches Paul laugh and sing, lit by wintry afternoon sunlight, instead of watching the first batch of cookies in the oven — they’re okay, just a couple minutes overdone.

And maybe he sneaks a few chocolate chips from the bag when Paul isn't looking, after expressly telling him not to. Maybe he finds himself humming along to Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, even dancing a little as he slides another tray of cookies into the oven... he can't help it. Paul's energy is infectious.

"Oh my god!" Paul gasps as a new song begins. “I love this song!” He reaches over to pluck the spatula from the bowl as Eartha Kitt's velvety voice fills the kitchen, holds it up to his mouth like a microphone. He points at Hugh, a little smirk on his lips, and Hugh's heart flutters.

...been an awful good girl, Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight...

“You’re ridiculous,” Hugh laughs as Paul lip-syncs along, exaggerating every syllable, twirling and shimmying ever closer to Hugh's side of the kitchen. Utterly ridiculous. So ridiculous that Hugh can’t look away.

Think of all the fun I've missed, think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed...

Hugh’s laughter fades as he watches Paul’s mouth curve around the words, his lips pout after the word “kissed.” He’s very close to Hugh now, his eyes bright with amusement and intent on Hugh’s own. Hugh feels his face grow hot.

Next year I could be just as good... If you check off my Christmas list...

Paul winks, and Hugh's heart stutters. He remembers to breathe out a laugh, but Paul has already turned away, strutting back across the kitchen. He’s a good dancer, Hugh remembers, they both are. It’s been... a long time, though, since they've been dancing. Hugh’s eyes follow the arch of his neck, the sway of his hips, the hand trailing slowly down his side, down to his thigh. He swallows, his mouth gone suddenly dry.

Come and trim my Christmas tree...

Paul catches Hugh’s gaze over his shoulder and holds it, his eyes darkening... and then they both dissolve into giggles, looking away to catch their breath, only to look back at each other and burst into giggles again. 

The oven timer beeps as the song begins to fade, and Hugh takes a deep breath to compose himself before retrieving the cookies. He moves the previous batches, sets the trays on cooling racks, all while avoiding Paul’s gaze. They really do need to make enough cookies to feed dozens of people. He can’t afford to drop any of them. The next song fades in, slow and soft.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas... 

Hugh pulls his oven mitts off and looks up to see Paul, eyes twinkling, with a soft smile on his face, holding out his hand. 

***

Let your heart be light...

It's like a spell has been cast over the kitchen, like Paul is in a trance, Judy Garland's beautiful voice warming him down to his bones, his heart full to bursting. He doesn't think about it, just holds out his hand, and Hugh looks at it for a moment, flushed and flour-streaked. And then he takes it, to Paul's surprise, and Paul pulls him close, his other hand sliding around Hugh's waist and coming to rest at his back. Hugh brings his other hand to settle on Paul's shoulder as they begin to sway.

Make the Yuletide gay...

The corner of Hugh's mouth quirks up at that, and Paul lets out a soft chuckle, pulling him gently closer. He can feel the rise and fall of Hugh's chest against his own, the softness of his hand in his. Hugh's gaze is fixed on him. Paul takes in the soft crinkles around his eyes, the pink tinge to his cheeks, his lips slightly parted...

Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more...

Warmth blooms in Paul's chest. They turn slightly and Hugh's brown eyes catch the sunlight, glowing amber. Paul's breath catches in his throat. His eyes trail slowly over Hugh's face again, lingering on every crease, every line, the corner of his smile...

So have yourself a merry little Christmas now...

They slow to a stop as the last notes of the song begin to fade away. The very air around them is still, as though the kitchen itself is holding its breath. Hugh's eyes don't leave Paul's face, his hand doesn't leave Paul's shoulder. They're inches apart, still pressed close together, and Paul is suddenly aware of his heart pounding away in his chest. His eyes drop to the bow of Hugh's lips —

Paul's phone buzzes on the counter and they both jump. The spell is broken. Hugh drops his hand, turns away to look at the trays of cookies all over the countertop as the next song begins to play.

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch...

Paul takes a shaky breath, willing his racing heart to calm down. The sudden absence of Hugh leaves him feeling a little cold. The music is suddenly too loud, too jarring. He reaches for his phone to turn it down and sees a text from Justin.

"Justin wants to grab a drink." Paul's voice comes out a little hoarse. He clears his throat.

"Oh." Hugh turns the oven off. His face is still turned away. 

"I don't know... maybe I won't go." He's reluctant to leave all of a sudden, even after three days of not seeing Justin. "You still need help here. And it's..." he checks the time. "5:30. I'd probably miss family dinner..."

"Well, we're done baking cookies." Hugh turns to look at him, his voice light. "And you've spent all week with your family. I'm sure they wouldn't mind you missing one dinner. I think you should go!" 

His eyes keep flickering down to his feet. Paul can tell he's carefully keeping his face neutral, closed off. There's something he isn't saying. "You could come with," he offers. "You could meet Justin."

"No! No," Hugh shakes his head. "I don't need to be a third wheel."

"You wouldn't be a third wheel —

"I literally would be," Hugh chuckles. 

"Okay," Paul scoffs, "why do you want me to go?"

"Because I think you want to go."

"I think you want me to want to go," Paul frowns. If Hugh doesn't want him to go, he should just say it.

Hugh steps forward, his face softening. "I think you're overthinking this. Just go."

Right. Okay. No thinking, just fun. He tries to push his doubts to the back of his mind. "Okay. I'll go. I'm going." He sends a quick reply to Justin as Hugh turns away again, now pulling paper plates and plastic wrap out of cabinets.

Paul is still standing in the same spot, watching him. "I... guess I'm off, then."

"See you later!" Hugh flashes him a quick smile over his shoulder.

Paul uproots his feet from the ground and sets off to find his coat.

***

The front door opens just as Adira is walking up the porch steps, arm in arm with Gray. To their dismay, Hugh walks out, pulling on his gloves.

“No! Where are you going?” They demand. Hugh looks up, startled to see them. 

“Hi! I’m not going anywhere, I’m just...” he points up. “One of the strings of lights on the roof got dislodged. I’m climbing up there to fix it before it gets too dark out.”

“Where’s Paul? I thought you were baking cookies together!”

“We were,” Hugh shrugs. “But then he left for a date with Justin.”

"What!" Adira squeaks. "Where? The pub?"

"No idea. But probably."

"Hugh! You need to stop this!" 

Gray lays a hand on their arm. "Ease up," he mutters. 

Hugh looks between the two of them, puzzled. "O...kay... Okay," he shakes his head. "Actually, it's good you two are back. There's a bunch of cookies in there that need packing. You know what to do, yes?"

"But —" Adira starts.

"We got it," Gray interjects, giving them a look. "Let's go." He pulls them inside before they can say another word.

"What are you doing?" Adira rounds on him as soon as the door closes. "We have to do something!"

"I know, I know, but yelling at Hugh probably won't help," Gray soothes. "We need to come up with a plan. Quickly."

"Oh! We could call K and Jo and tell them to bust up their date!" Adira whips out their phone.

"No, no, slow down," Gray laughs, taking their hand and gently lowering it. "I don't think they'd do that."

"Okay. You're right." Adira takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry for getting all... worked up," they mumble. "I just... really wanna see Paul happy."

"I know," Gray murmurs, his eyes going soft.

"He's so happy with Hugh, Gray. And Hugh's so happy with him! I just — ugh!" They sigh. "How can they not see it?"

"It's not that they don't see it, it's..." Gray thinks. Adira loves his thinking face. "They don't want to confront it. The enormity of what that means... they've convinced themselves that they're better off just not doing anything about it. They're scared."

The answer dawns on Adira. "Then we have to make Hugh confront his feelings. Gray, you're a genius!"

"I know," he grins. "But how? We've basically told him straight-up that he's in love with Paul, and he refuses to see it!"

"Yeah," Adira nods. "It's time to take drastic measures."

***

"Hugh's been alone for so long, you know? His mom passed away when he was 29, and he's basically been on his own since then."

"Wow. That must've been hard on him." Justin twirls a dart in his fingers as he looks back at Paul with soft eyes.

“Yeah...” Hugh doesn’t talk about it very much, even with him. “I, um... I mean, I try to look out for him. And my siblings insist that he’s family, too. They’re practically ready to adopt him,” Paul chuckles.

"Your family sounds amazing. Oh!" A dart hits the board with a soft thwack.

"Ooh, that was close! I think," Paul laughs, "I don't really know what we're doing here."

"I mean, I know Keyla," Justin continues, "and she's amazing, and so's Jo. And from the way you talk about them... I wish I was that close to my sibling, honestly."

"Yeah, well," Paul chuckles, "there's always room for you in our family if you ever want that. Actually, it's been a while since we've added a new member. We’d gladly adopt you both.”

Thwack. "Ooh! That was so close!" He holds out the last dart. "Do you want a try?"

"Oh, no," Paul holds up his hands. "My hand-eye coordination is shit. I can't aim to save my life. Just ask Hugh! I'd probably take someone's eye out."

"We'll just tell everyone to clear a fifty-foot radius then," Justin laughs.

"Is that enough, do you think?"

Justin turns back to the board, grinning. Paul watches him take aim, notes the slight curve of the muscles in his arm.

"Actually," Justin turns back, biting his lip. "If you don't mind me asking... and please forgive my phrasing on this, I can't think of another way to say it — how did your family... happen?"

"No, that's a good question," Paul waves off Justin's apologetic wince. "It's kind of a long story though, so settle in."

"I'm all ears," Justin smiles, leaning back against the window.

"Well, my parents had Keyla first, and then me a few years later. They were pretty young — they met in college and got married basically right after they graduated, they always said it was love at first sight for them."

"Aw, that's lovely," Justin says softly.

"And then about a year after they had me, they decided to become foster parents. They... how did Mom always put it? They wanted to be a warm and loving home for as many people as humanly possible."

"Wow," Justin murmurs.

"Yeah, she was amazing." Warmth floods Paul's chest as he remembers her. If she could see the home her family has built in Discovery now... she would be so proud. 

"Anyway, Michael came to us first, when she was five, and, well, it was love at first sight again. For all of us. She'd... well, she'd just lost her parents, and... she'd been through so much... I don't want to go into details —

"No, of course, I understand —

"But... I was only three years old when she came to us, so I don't really remember this, but the way my parents and Keyla describe her slowly opening up, coming out of her shell, becoming comfortable in our home... they started the adoption process not even a year later."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, it was a happy day when everything was finally made official. We have this picture of the three of us kids absolutely covered in chocolate cake, grinning like little maniacs."

"Oh, that's adorable, I definitely want to see that."

"You probably will in time, my big sisters love to whip out the baby pictures whenever I bring new people home."

"Can't wait," Justin chuckles.

Paul takes him in for a moment, his face softly glowing under the Christmas lights, his little smile, his shining eyes, alert with genuine interest, despite the fact that Paul has probably said ten times more words than him all evening. His heart flutters a little.

"Anyway, seven other kids came to us over the next... ten years or so. John, Bryce, Disha, Emmet and Isabelle, Cory, and Karina. They were all placed with us while their families were... well, they were going through some rough situations. But they all could be reunited with their families after a while, or had different family members who could take them in or adopt them. None of them had to stay with us for more than a year."

"Wow, so your family is even bigger than it first appears!"

"Exactly," Paul laughs, "there are Stametses, official or honorary, all over the country at this point." 

"What about your other siblings?"

"Ah, well... Mom got sick by the time the three of us were in high school, so... with all our energy on her and her health... they couldn't foster anymore. And then she was gone not even two years later..."

"I'm so sorry," Justin whispers.

"... I mean, for a few years after that we were just... stuck? That's not a great word, but... like, Keyla and Michael put off going away to college so they could be here for me and Dad. And I didn't apply to any colleges before I graduated because I wanted to do the same, to stay with my family, help take care of Dad. But..."

Paul feels his eyes sting a little as the memory fills him up.

"Dad sat us down the day I graduated high school and basically told us it was past time for all of us to move forward, that that's what Mom would've wanted for us. He told us he wanted to be a foster parent again, that he wanted to continue making this a loving and welcoming home for more kids. A year later, the three of us were off at college when Tilly came to us. She was about five years old. She was so full of energy — I mean, she still is," Paul laughs, "that hasn't gone away. It's only intensified, really. But it had been a while since Dad had to deal with such an energetic little kid. Luckily Michael still lived close by enough that she could help out more than Keyla and I could. They bonded instantly. It was another love at first sight thing. They're practically attached at the hip, still."

"Aww," Justin smiles softly. "And your youngest sibling? Adira?"

"They came to us as a baby, not even a year old I think. Tilly was about thirteen. Once again, it was love at first sight."

"Wow... and were you in LA by then?"

"No, no I was still here. I was working for the forestry department at the time. I was thinking about moving at the time, I think, but between Adira and then Keyla's accident —

"Oh, that's right," Justin nods. "Keyla told me about that. Did she get a new eye recently? I feel like it's a different color from when I met her..."

"Oh, yeah, she did," Paul laughs. "Last week, I think. She surprised me with it, actually. That's just like her."

"Of course she did," Justin grins.

"But anyway," Paul continues, "I didn't want to move away when there was Adira and Keyla to take care of... but then five years later, I did. Again, my family basically sat me down and told me that... if I really wanted it, I had to try."

"Wow," Justin whispers. "I'm sorry, I know I've been saying wow a lot, but... wow." He rubs at his neck, blushing. "Your family... is amazing."

"They really are," Paul murmurs. He's moving home. He has to move home. Telling Justin all about them... it's decided. He's doing it.

"So that's when you met Hugh?" Justin asks.

"Yeah." The image of Hugh gazing at him in the kitchen, his eyes molten in the sunlight, flashes into his mind. Paul blinks it away. "Yeah. He's practically family too, at this point. An honorary Stamets," he chuckles. "I brought him home for the first time... nine years ago? For K and Jo's tenth-anniversary party. And whenever my family would visit me he'd hang out with us, or when I went home for the summer a couple times I'd bring him... he came home with me when Dad died, too. Six years ago," he answers Justin's unspoken question. "Heart attack. I got the call that he was in the hospital and... I didn't even have to ask. Hugh just started packing his bags with me."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Justin says. He smiles softly. "Hugh sounds like an amazing friend."

"He really is..." Hugh really is an amazing friend. The more Paul thinks about it... "amazing friend" doesn't even begin to cover all the things Hugh is to him.

Paul glances out the window behind him to see that the sky has considerably darkened. "Oh no," he groans, "I'm so sorry. I've just been talking about my family forever... you've just been standing there with that dart in your hand this whole time, I —

"No, no, it's okay, I promise." Justin takes a step closer. "Thank you for... sharing your parents with me. Thank you for telling me about your family. It just makes me want to meet them all even more."

"But I haven't even let you talk, I haven't even asked about your family yet —

"My mom's a teacher, my dad's a dentist, and my sibling's a nurse. I love them all, but we don't really do the whole "getting together for the holidays" thing. It's not that big a deal to us, honestly," Justin shrugs. "We visit each other when we can, we talk to each other when we can, my mom keeps us all updated on each other's lives. It's not bad, but that's kind of all there is to it."

"I..." Paul sighs, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I've... been told I talk too much, especially about the things I love... I know I can be a bit much. I've been a bit much tonight."

Justin reaches for the collar of Paul's shirt. "Well, now I want to fight everyone who's ever told you that."

He pulls him in for a kiss, sweet and steady. Paul's eyes fall closed. He still tastes like peppermint hot cocoa.

"I like hearing you talk about the things you love," Justin murmurs as they break apart. "I like seeing you like that. Like this. Your eyes go all... starry. You kind of come alive, you're... beautiful."

"Oh," Paul whispers, trying and failing to stop a grin from spreading across his face. He wraps his arms around Justin's shoulders and pulls him into another kiss.

***

Hugh checks one final time to make sure the string of lights is held securely in place. It’s starting to get dark out, and the cold is starting to seep into his skin, despite his many layers. He should head back inside soon. He turns to descend the ladder and —

The ladder’s gone.

”Hugh!” Someone calls his name from somewhere below him. Carefully, heart pounding, he creeps closer to the edge of the roof to see... Adira and Gray, holding the ladder away, grinning deviously up at him.

They cut to the chase. “Admit that you’re in love with Paul,” Adira calls up. “Or you’re not getting this back.”

Hugh sits down so he can scoot a little closer. His heart calms down a little. 

“Admit it!” That’s Gray. 

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I told you both to drop this!” He calls back. “I told you it isn’t like that! We’re just friends!”

They look at each other, nod, and step back. The ladder drifts a few inches further away —

“Wait! Wait!” Panic flares in his chest again. “Fine! If that’s what you want to hear —

“No!” Adira cries. “Not just because it’s what we want to hear! Unacceptable!”

“We’re not asking you to admit anything to us!” Gray adds. “We already know! We’ve known for literal years! Admit it to yourself!”

Another flare of panic. But this one is different. This one has less to do with the distance between himself and the ground, and more to do with the thoughts coming together in his mind. 

He flashes back to a few days ago, the conversation he and Paul had outside the house, Paul telling him he wanted to move back home. How his heart had plummeted. How his defenses had slipped, just enough for him to say... "I love you."

Paul hadn't heard him, of course. But he could've said it again. Paul had just said it to him, after all. They've told each other "I love you" before. Instead, some frantic instinct in him told him to pull it back, to move on. It felt different, somehow. He had locked it away before he could think about it more, turned on the Christmas lights instead.

Now, that moment comes back to him, joining all the moments that happened in between. Their time together at the talent show rehearsals, playing in the snow with Paul and his family, every long look, every little smile. The entirety of the past few hours, how Paul's touch, his gaze, their dance, left a buzzing under his skin that still hasn't faded.

After everything that’s happened today... this is the final blow to his defenses. Another moment, and he feels them shattering. The dam has burst, and he’s caught in the flood of memories and emotions, hurtling toward that inevitable, irrevocable conclusion.

“Admit it!” It’s a command. Hugh gives in.

“I love him,” he whispers. “I’m in love with him. I’m in love with Paul.” Madly. Desperately.

Hopelessly.

“Okay!” He calls out, his teeth beginning to chatter. “I’m in love with him, okay? I’m in love with Paul!”

Gray and Adira cheer.

“Now can you put the ladder back? Please?” He shivers as a gust of wind rips through him.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Gray calls.

What can he do about it? What was he ever going to do about it? “Nothing!”

“Oh come on!” Adira groans. “What do you mean nothing? Tell him you love him!”

“I...” Hugh sighs. This is exactly why he didn’t want to think about it. Exactly why he shut those thoughts away. There is nothing to do about it. “He doesn’t feel the same way!” 

Another chorus of protests.

“Are you kidding me? Of course he does!”

“It’s so blatantly obvious!”

“Well then why is he on a third date with someone else right now?” Hugh snaps. Why hasn’t he said anything in the ten years they’ve known each other? Why is he moving home and leaving Hugh behind? 

“Because he’s fucking obtuse!” Adira yells. “He needs you to spell it out for him!”

Hugh looks down at his hands in his lap. There have been moments when he’s thought... there have been moments when Paul seemed to return his feelings. Fleeting things, things that Hugh told himself weren’t worth building up in his head. That moment in the kitchen today... he’d almost let himself believe it. But no. He can’t put himself out there knowing Paul doesn’t feel the same way. He can’t —

With a soft thunk, the ladder falls back against the roof. Glancing up, Hugh sees why. Michael’s car is pulling into the driveway, and Adira and Gray, it seems, have already disappeared into the house.

He shakes his head, climbs slowly down the ladder.

“Hey!” Michael shuts the door of her car as Hugh’s feet find solid ground again. “Were you fixing that string that came loose?”

Hugh thinks for a moment about telling Michael what Adira and Gray did. They'd likely get in trouble. But... they got results, didn’t they? They got Hugh to admit something to himself that he’d been keeping under lock and key for... a very long time.

“Yeah,” he sighs instead, giving Michael a weary smile. “It’s all good now.”

Michael, always astute, somehow picks up on what just happened anyway. “Adira and Gray put the screws to you, did they?”

Hugh looks down at his feet, which is answer enough to her question. 

“Hey,” she says softly, and Hugh looks back up at her. This must be the face Paul talks about all the time, the face she’s making at him right now. A look that somehow sees right into his heart. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Despite knowing there’s nothing he can do about it, despite knowing Paul’s moving away soon... Hugh feels lighter, somehow, now that he’s said it out loud. Like he’s just let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I do,” he murmurs. “I love him so much.”

***

"You know..." Justin begins. They're walking back from the pub together, four hours, a few more drinks, a couple burgers, and many more rounds of darts later. Paul even got up the courage to play, rather than just watch Justin, with only moderately disastrous results. They talked more, too, Paul actually letting Justin get a word in edgewise this time. He's learned more about Justin's family, his childhood, his interests, his passions. He's shared more of himself in return. Despite the biting cold, Paul feels all warm and glowing, walking beside Justin right now.

So it's surprising when Justin says, "You talk about Hugh a lot."

"Oh!" Paul slows a little. "I... guess I do. I mean, he's my best friend. I guess it's a little weird —"

"No, not at all! I mean, if I had a friend that amazing I'd brag about them all the time," Justin chuckles. "It's... really sweet. You're lucky to have him."

Paul considers this. "Yeah. I am really lucky."

They walk in silence for a few moments. Paul's mind flashes back again to baking cookies with Hugh that afternoon, the spell that came over him, that compelled him to hold his hand out to Hugh. Their dance, the way Hugh's eyes locked onto his. He's still not sure how any of that happened. Maybe Judy Garland actually is magic.

"This might be a weird thing to tell you..." The Judy Garland magic is back, the invisible force compelling Paul to do things he'd never think to do on his own. "But... my family has always had this thing where... they think Hugh and I should be together. Or at least, they thought that for a few years. I don't know if they still do now..."

"That's why you had that whole fake boyfriend plan, right?"

"Yeah, I guess..." Paul frowns. That plan had made so much sense to him in the moment. Why had it made so much sense? "Sorry," he shakes his head, "that was a weird thing to say, I shouldn't have... I mean, here I am on a third date with you, which I've very much enjoyed by the way..."

He glances over to see Justin thinking, staring out into the street, his lips pursed. "Well... maybe they're onto something," he finally shrugs. He turns to face Paul, smiling a little. "What if... you and Hugh have an undeniable connection, that everyone can see but you?"

"Yeah but..." Paul laughs a little. He and Hugh have a strong connection, there's no denying that. But that doesn't mean... "Haven't you ever had a friend that everyone assumes is your partner?"

Justin stops. He gives Paul a curious look. "No," he finally says. "I haven't."

Huh.

Justin nods at the building behind Paul. "This is me."

"Oh! Well... I had an amazing time tonight." Paul steps aside to let Justin pass.

Justin unlocks the door, then pauses. "Do you, um... wanna come up?"

Ah. Right. Paul considers it. Part of him really wants to, the part of him that feels all warm and glowing from the evening they've spent together, from Justin's soft gaze now. But...

"Actually," Paul winces, "I should probably get home. The talent show's tomorrow, and I need to be up early..."

"Understood," Justin nods. "And I'll definitely be there tomorrow, I'm really excited for the talent show!"

"Great! I'll see you there!" Paul steps forward to give Justin a kiss on the cheek, and then he's disappeared into the building, and Paul has another block to walk home.

By the time he steps inside, the house is dark and quiet. He pads softly upstairs, pushes open his bedroom door —

— only to find Tilly, fast asleep in the bed.

"Okay... I guess..." he breathes. He carefully collects some of his things, trying not to wake her, and considers his options. Adira and Gray would be in Adira's room, Keyla and Jo in theirs... that leaves the guest room. With Hugh.

He eases open the door across the landing. 

“Paul?” Hugh’s voice is a hoarse whisper. He must’ve been just drifting off to sleep. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Yeah, everything’s fine,” Paul whispers back. “It’s just... Tilly’s asleep in my bed. Or I guess it’s her bed, technically. Um... can I join you?”

Hugh rolls over to stare at the ceiling. “Sure,” he says after a moment. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” Paul feels his face grow warm. He ducks into the bathroom to change before carefully crawling under the covers beside Hugh.

Hugh rolls over to face him, looking for a moment like he wants to say something. Then he sighs, closes his eyes. “Good night,” he murmurs.

“Good night.” Paul can ask about his evening and tell him about his date tomorrow. 

For now, he takes Hugh in, already asleep, it seems. He must’ve been really tired. His face is peaceful, relaxed, lit by the soft moonlight slipping through the curtains. Paul can hear his deep, even breaths in the quiet of the house, feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

The magic is back. Paul recognizes it this time, in the sudden urge to reach out and trace his finger along the shaft of moonlight across Hugh’s cheek, in the urge to pull him closer, in the sudden feeling of... rightness, that washes over him. 

Hugh is beautiful like this, beautiful in the moonlight. Hugh is beautiful all the time, but especially right now. He wants to... 

In the dark, Justin’s words come back to him. What if you and Hugh have an undeniable connection, that everyone can see but you? 

“Oh.” he breathes.

Maybe they do.

Chapter Text

December 24

Paul wakes up last, which means he gets to accompany Adira and Gray on their round of the neighborhood while Hugh and Tilly go with Michael to take the other half of the cookies to their colleagues. It also, apparently, means he gets to carry the tower of plastic-wrapped plates of cookies by himself, balancing them carefully while Adira and Gray run ahead to ring doorbells. Thankfully, his burden doesn’t remain heavy for long. And it’s nice to talk to his neighbors, some of whom have been around for decades and have known him since he was a little kid. 

“Well that was adorable,” Adira grins, falling into step beside him as they leave Mrs. Dobson’s house behind. She’d just finished regaling them and Gray with stories about Paul from thirty years ago, while Paul, standing behind them, grew steadily redder. 

“Yeah yeah,” Paul grumbles. Another upside to moving home — how fond he is of his neighbors, and how fond they are of him. He’s friends with his neighbors in LA, too, and even had a couple of them over for Thanksgiving this year, but they come and go so fast. He and Hugh are probably the longest tenants in their building by far. 

“I love Mrs. Dobson,” Gray sighs, catching up to them. “She told me I was, quote, ‘growing into such a handsome young man,’” he giggles. “She says she’ll come by the talent show for sure, with her entire family in tow.”

“Great!” Adira beams. “At least our entire street will be there, even if no one else shows up.”

“I highly doubt that,” Paul scoffs, “considering how packed it was last year.” They’d held the first-ever talent show fundraiser last year in the middle school’s cafeteria and received a stern lecture about fire safety from the local fire marshal afterward. The community center space is thankfully much bigger. 

They leave the last plate of cookies with the Sankars at the end of the street, who also promise to come by the talent show later, and set off back to the house, taking their time in the bright morning. 

“You and Hugh have been a huge help, by the way,” Adira says. “It’s been great having you both with us this week.” 

“We’ve had a lot of fun!” He’s loved spending every morning with the queer youth group, playing music and connecting with the kids. Another upside to moving home — he’s been coming up with a lot of those lately — he could do things like this more often, be a part of the growing queer community here.

Are all those upsides added together enough to outweigh the one massive downside? He pushes the thought away. 

“You’ll come back next year, right?” Gray asks. “We’ll need you if we’re gonna make Seasons of Love our signature song.”

“Of course,” Paul laughs. “At least I hope so.” He thinks it’s safe to assume he’ll be back for good by next Christmas if he sets things in motion as soon as he gets home, but he doesn’t want to promise anything yet.

“And Hugh?” Adira asks. Gray gives them a look Paul can’t decipher. 

“I don’t know,” Paul sighs. “Maybe. I mean... it’d be great if he did. Come back, I mean.” Maybe Hugh can come to Discovery every Christmas. Maybe that’s how they can make sure they keep in touch. Maybe they can set aside that time to spend together, ten days a year to spend with Hugh. And it's not like they won't call and text each other. They'll have to, Paul thinks fervently, of course they will — because he could never move back home if he knew it meant leaving Hugh behind for good.

“We’ll see,” Paul says now, as his heart twists in his chest. “I’d... really like that.”

“Hmm," Adira muses. Another look passes between them and Gray, like they've come to a decision. Paul can't think what that might mean.

They pass two more houses before Adira says, "Because you’re in love with Hugh.”

Paul stops short. "Wh — what?"

"You're in love with Hugh." They say it again ever so casually, as though it doesn't shift the foundations of Paul’s world.

"I —" 

Adira and Gray step in front of him, resolute. "Don't pretend you don't know what we're talking about."

"Admit it." Gray, at least, is more gentle about it than Adira, who's glaring daggers at him. "You're in love with him."

"Wh — how — where is this coming from?" Paul stammers.

"Oh, please, I've watched you both for ten years." Adira folds their arms, impatient. "It is so blatantly, glaringly obvious."

"It's been increasingly obvious since you both got here," Gray adds. 

Paul's heart begins to pound in his ears. “That’s not...” His voice is a faint whisper. “I’m not... I can’t be...”

But even as he protests, his mind races and things begin to click into place. All the disparate pieces Paul had shrugged off in the moment begin to fall together.

The kitchen, yesterday. It wasn’t Judy Garland’s magical voice — okay, maybe it was in part, but that wasn’t what drove him to hold out his hand to Hugh... was it? Then the long looks during the talent show rehearsals. The way his heart twists every time he thinks of leaving him.

Last night, how he'd fallen asleep thinking about what Justin had said about his deep connection to Hugh...

And... he hadn't let himself think about it this morning, he'd forced himself to run through the talent show setlist every time his thoughts strayed near the subject, but... the sight of Hugh, asleep in the moonlight last night. The longing to reach out and touch him, pull him close. Waking up just before dawn this morning to find that he'd done just that — that their arms had found their way around each other's bodies like it was second nature, like it just made sense — and falling back asleep to the rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against his own.

And another memory, so deeply buried he’d almost forgotten about it. The thrill he’d felt when the pretty man with the kind eyes had got up and sat next to him in that cafe. How he’d begun to frequent that little place, just to see him. How quickly it had become unbearable to talk to him, to even look at him, how he’d be hyper-aware of his every word, his every movement around him. How it had eventually seemed simpler to just push those feelings deep, deep down. 

He can tell from Adira's triumphant smile that they can see the truth dawning across his face.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Shit.”

Beside them, Gray's expression is patient and open as ever, inviting him to go on. They're not going anywhere, he realizes, until they hear him say it. 

“I... okay, look... have I had feelings for Hugh in the past?” Paul begins carefully. “... Yes." Something loosens in his chest as he says it, some long-held tension finally dissolving.

"And do I maybe even... have feelings for him now?”

Adira lifts a hopeful eyebrow.

“I... maybe. Yes, fine,” he adds at Adria’s scoff. “Yes. I do.” The words come easily to him. They’ve been there all along, he realizes, waiting to be said.

“But I can’t...” he continues, and their faces fall. “I can’t... if Hugh and I started dating, and it didn’t work out...” Like it hadn’t worked out with Paul’s seven previous boyfriends in ten years. Like how just as he'd get comfortable, the other shoe would drop. Every damn time.

“I’d lose him.” For good. He can’t even think about that.

“But what if it did work out?” Gray asks gently. His eyes are pleading, Adria’s too — they really want this, Paul realizes.

I’m moving home, he could say. I’d have to leave Hugh behind. If we dated and it didn’t work out and I lost him, I’d lose him for good. It’s too big a risk. There are so many things he could say right now, so many fears he could voice. But Gray and Adira wouldn’t hear it. One look at their faces confirms that.

Instead, he smiles and says, “Then I’d be... really happy.” And he would be if it worked out. But, he thinks with a twinge of sadness, it won’t. It couldn’t.

“Now come on.” He starts moving again, and Adira and Gray fall into step beside him. “We’ve gotta meet everyone else at the community center.” He can feel them shooting glances at each other again, their easy wordless communication, but he doesn't look. He can't. 

As they climb the porch steps, Paul lingers for one last moment on that image of Hugh’s face in the moonlight. Stepping into the house, he imagines breaking up that clear picture of a future for him and Hugh and shoving all those pieces back into the corners of his mind. 

***

Hugh settles into the backseat of Tilly’s car. Book and Michael are still standing outside, talking to his coworkers at the clinic and shelter — he and Tilly warm up while they wait for him. Tilly is quickly lost in her phone, a little smile on her face — no doubt she's texting Airiam.

In the quiet of the car, as in every quiet moment he's had today, the memories of yesterday, last night, this morning, fill his mind again. Dancing with Paul in their own sunlit bubble. Huddling on the rooftop and admitting his feelings to the wind — I love him. I'm in love with him. Saying it out loud to Adira and Gray and Michael. Resolving that nothing could ever or would ever come of it. 

And then stirring in the night to find Paul in his room. Falling asleep beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Waking in the morning to find that they'd pulled each other close in the middle of the night, instinctive as breathing, like their bodies knew a truth their minds couldn't admit.

Pulling away from him gently, heart aching. Letting him sleep. Leaving the house before they could acknowledge or talk about it. Because nothing could ever or would ever come of it.

His phone buzzes in his back pocket, then again, snapping him out of his thoughts. Hugh twists to retrieve it as the doors open and Book slides into the seat beside him. Michael waves one last time at their friends before shutting the passenger door.

The messages are from Adira.

We talked to Paul.

The feeling is mutual.

Everything stills. The chatter filling the car, the whirr of the heater, all fade to nothing as Hugh stares at those words. The feeling is mutual. We talked to Paul. The feeling is mutual... Hugh can hardly dare to think it. But the thought comes to him, he can't hold it back.

Paul loves him. Paul is in love with him.

“Hugh? You good back there?” Michael raises an eyebrow at him in the rearview mirror.

He must have looked as stunned as he feels. “Yeah,” he quickly assures her. He can’t help it — a smile slowly spreads across his face. “I’m... great.”

It's no longer impossible, Adira is telling him. It was never impossible. He hears their voice in his mind.

What are you going to do about it?

***

The piano and a couple of microphones are set up at the front of the hall. Rows and rows of chairs fill the rest of the vast space, every chair occupied. Paul spots most of their neighbors in the audience, and a few familiar faces he knows to be colleagues of Michael, Book, or Tilly. The rest must be mostly fellow students and their families. Tickets were five dollars, with further donations to the food bank network highly encouraged, but even with just ticket prices, they must have raised over five hundred dollars already. Paul’s heart swells with pride as he looks out across the sea of excited faces, at the row of eager kids in front, waiting to perform. 

Tilly steps up to address the crowd and Hugh settles against the wall right next to him, their shoulders brushing. “Excited?” he murmurs.

“Proud,” Paul whispers back. “I’m so proud of them.” Of Tilly for creating this group in the first place. Of the kids for coming up with this idea, and for sharing their myriad talents. 

“Yeah,” Hugh sighs. “Me too.” Adira stands and Hugh nudges Paul’s shoulder. “I think that’s your cue.”

Adira is the opening act, performing a piece they composed on the cello, with Paul as accompaniment. They glance over at him as he settles onto the bench, a nervous smile flickering across their face. 

You got this, Paul mouths, waiting for their answering nod before taking a deep breath, counting them in, and beginning to play.

The first notes sound in the vast hall and then time begins to blur, slipping quickly from one act to the next and the next. They'd decided to alternate between musical and non-musical acts, so after Adira comes Prarthana reading a poem she wrote, then Roz with a song, then Gray with a short essay, and so on. And Paul, in a dream, goes back and forth from the piano, where he loses himself in the music, and the corner, where Hugh drapes an arm over his shoulders, and he leans into his touch. 

Contentment. That's the word for what Paul feels. It comes to him as he settles beside Hugh again, tucked into their corner, looking out over the crowd. Half the town is here to cheer these kids on. There’s Michael and Book and Keyla and Jo, and there’s Mrs. Dobson and her wife and their whole family, and there’s a few people he recognizes as Tilly’s coworkers, who probably came to support their students. And there — his heart skips — is Justin, a couple rows behind Keyla, nodding along to the story Tanya is telling into the microphone. 

He could have this all the time. He could come here every week to spend time with these kids, maybe help them learn more songs. He could go home to see his family any time he wanted. He could get to know Tilly’s coworkers, and Airiam, who must be in the crowd too. He could live here, among all these people who would gladly take time on Christmas Eve to come watch a group of queer kids put on a talent show and donate their money to a worthy cause.

But. Hugh's arm wrapped around him, Hugh's head resting on his shoulder. That's what makes this moment complete. And that's exactly what he can't have.

Right?

***

The finale performance of Seasons of Love is a huge hit. Paul locks eyes with Hugh across the room as the final notes fade and the audience springs to their feet, clapping and cheering. He has the brightest smile on his face. Paul stares until he’s swarmed by the kids, who manage to pull him into a massive group hug, and when he looks up again, Hugh is gone.

“That was amazing!” Tilly bounds up to him as the kids finally release him and disperse into the crowd.

“It really was,” Paul beams. “You know, I am so proud of you, Tilly. These kids are so lucky to have you.”

“Ohh,” Tilly gives him a watery smile. “Thank you! We, um — we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I’ll come back next year, for sure.” Paul decides it as he’s saying it. It’s worth it just to see Tilly’s face light up even brighter. 

"Yay!" she squeals. "And Hugh?"

"I... hope so," Paul admits, heat rising in his cheeks at Tilly's knowing look. "Don't give me that — It's not —"

"It is so obvious to literally everyone," Tilly huffs, echoing Adira from earlier that day. "You both so clearly, transparently like each other!"

First Adira and Gray, now Tilly. A sudden flash of irritation, bitter in Paul's mouth. "Or maybe you're all just pushing this so hard to make up for my failures," he mutters.

"Paul."

Paul startles at the sudden sharpness in Tilly's voice, the hard look on her face. A few little knots of people edge away from them.

"We're trying to help you. We want you to find love because you want to find love, because we know how important it is to you. Is that really what you think? That we see you as a failure?"

Paul wilts a little under her glare. "I... maybe a little," he mumbles.

"Bullshit," Tilly snaps. "Nothing your douchebag exes did to you was your fault. You're not a failure, Paul, god. And you know what?" She flexes her fingers, searching for the words. "Personally, I think you have plenty of love in your life already. It's not like you're... incomplete, or whatever, without a romantic relationship in your life. You're whole, Paul. And you have us, and we love you, and we know how amazing you are! But you want a relationship, and we're supporting you in that, and if you decided tomorrow you didn't want a relationship we'd support you in that too..."

Tilly wrings her hands, some of her steam running out. "Look, all I'm saying is... this isn't about you somehow failing, this isn't about your... lack of anything that we're trying to make up for. This is about what you want and deserve. And you deserve someone who sees how fucking incredible you are. All we want is for you to find that person, okay?"

"Okay." Paul's feelings tangle confusingly in his chest. He manages a smile for Tilly, tries to put all his sincerity into it despite his whirling mind. "Thank you."

"Um. No problem." Tilly's cheeks go pink. "I just... love you, okay?"

"I love you too." He reaches out to squeeze her arm, let her know her speech was appreciated, even if he's still processing it.

"Paul!"

Paul startles again at Hugh's voice. Tilly raises an eyebrow at him. Can she hear his heart pounding?

Hugh gives him a cheery wave. "You wanna help me haul this piano back into the music room?"

"You'd better go help him with that," Tilly mutters, that knowing look back on her face. She brushes his shoulder as she leaves him and heads into the crowd.

"Sure," Paul calls back weakly. "I'll be right there."

***

The piano was a recent donation to the community center, by the old music teacher at the high school. He'd been Paul's high school music teacher almost thirty years ago, and one of his favorite people. Paul had taken choir and a piano elective with him. He retired a couple years ago and left his piano and a few other instruments to the school and the community center before moving with his wife to Arizona. Now there's a music room at the community center, with the piano and with old exercise books, and people can come practice or teach themselves or just hang out here. 

Hugh hears all this from Paul as they carefully wheel the piano through the hallways. He's always been fond of Paul's rambling stories, but he's especially grateful for the distraction now, when his nerves are buzzing and his mind is racing and the moment he's been waiting for all day is fast approaching.

"That was amazing, wasn't it?"

"It really was," Hugh agrees, adjusting his grip on the piano. "And so were you."

"Oh." Paul's cheeks glow a faint pink. He looks for a second like he's about to argue, but then he shakes his head. "Thank you. I loved that I could be a part of it. And... thank you for all your help, too. We couldn't have done this without you."

"You totally could've," Hugh laughs. "All I did was help set up the mics and order the pizza and follow Tilly's instructions."

"Okay, maybe we could've," Paul concedes, laughing with him. "But I wouldn't have wanted to."

He says it with complete sincerity. Hugh's heart flutters. "Oh," he murmurs, trying and failing to think of anything else to say to that.

"You just..." Paul shrugs, "make everything better, you know?" He turns to open the doors to the music room.

He could let the moment pass by, Hugh thinks, as they settle the piano into its place and spread the cover over it. They could finish their work in silence and walk back to the main hall, and Paul could strike up another story, and then they'd catch up with the rest of the family and go home and spend Christmas together and then he and Paul would leave... 

No. The air is heavy with anticipation, and the words have been swirling through his mind all day, his feelings growing more urgent in his chest, and now Hugh doesn't think he could stop the words from coming out even if he wanted to —

"Paul."

"Hugh?" Paul's eyes are so soft, shining, his lips curving in a little smile.

"Um." Hugh's throat feels suddenly dry. "I have something to tell you."

He takes a deep breath, finds himself reaching for Paul's hands — for support from the person who also happens to be making him so nervous right now, Hugh thinks, laughing a little to himself. Paul takes his hands without question, a little crease appearing in his brow.

"I've been thinking about this a lot lately and..." Hugh takes another deep breath, forces himself to meet Paul's eyes. "Okay. I'm just gonna say it — I love you. I'm in love with you."

Paul's grip loosens, falls away. Hugh fights down the urge to take his hands again.

"Wow. Um... that's... wow." Paul presses his hands to his face, his eyes wide. Hugh waits, saying nothing, even as a little worry begins to grow inside him.

"I... but... you — you told me to go out with Justin," Paul whispers, a little frantic. "How are you suddenly... saying..." he waves his hand, "that?"

"I realized when you told me you wanted to move home," Hugh pushes on, every word a relief of some of the tension, the ache he's been carrying around for days. "I realized I was... well, heartbroken. I'd be heartbroken if I didn't have you in my life. And your family kind of, um, catalyzed it? I guess?"

Paul laughs, short and sharp. "Of course they did." 

"And they made me realize that I've been in love with you since the first day we met." More relief, a ballooning lightness in his chest. "And I've just spent so long being so in love with you and telling myself that I couldn't have that, and pushing it away —

Paul makes a strangled sound, a faint pain pinching around his eyes.

" — and then I came here and I realized... why not? Why can't I — why can't we... have that? And — and so... there it is," he finishes, feeling breathless, dizzy. A little desperate. "I'm in love with you, Paul."

Paul stares, frozen. Hugh knows his mind is spinning, spiraling. He can hear his breath coming in short gasps. He reaches for Paul's hands again, to steady him —

"I can't lose you as a friend," Paul whispers, recoiling. Hugh's hands fall limp at his sides.

"What if it didn't work out?" Paul runs a shaky hand through his hair, again and again. "Would that happen? Couldn't that happen? I mean it's happened, it's happened a lot, hasn't it? It's happened to me and to you and — and I want to move back home and live here and you — I couldn't lose you, I couldn't..."

Paul trails off, wringing his hands. Hugh feels almost weightless, numb, like everything in him has gone completely still. No buzzing nerves, no racing mind. It seems to take an eternity of Paul staring at him like that, with that wild, helpless look on his face, before some of the feeling comes back to Hugh's face, and he summons the strength to whisper, "Are you saying you don't want to try?"

"I don't know," Paul whispers back. "I don't know, I don't —

"There you are!" Hugh jumps at the unfamiliar voice, booming from the doorway. "Keyla said she saw you wheeling the piano off someplace." 

The man strides in with a broad grin. Hugh looks back at Paul to see an even broader grin, too broad, plastered across his face, an effort to cover up the lost look in his eyes.

"Justin! Oh! This is Hugh!" Paul sweeps an arm between them as Justin holds out a hand for Hugh to shake. "Hugh, this is Justin!"

"It's nice to finally meet you," Hugh murmurs, grasping Justin's hand and hitching his best, most congenial doctor smile onto his face.

"I've heard so much about you!" Justin gushes. His grip is strong, confident. "The famous Hugh! Hey, I was just coming over to ask if Paul wanted to grab a drink — why don't we all go?" He looks excitedly between the pair of them. Paul shoots Hugh an apologetic glance.

"That sounds great!" Paul answers Justin with just as much enthusiasm. Hugh can hear the note of strain in his voice, but if Justin notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Awesome! I can give us a ride to the pub —

"Actually," Hugh interrupts, "I think I'll meet you both there." He needs air. He needs to think. He needs to not be here right now.

Paul's face falls. "Why?"

"I, um... I got a call. From Tracy! She called during the show. I just wanted to call her back. It's okay!" he adds as Paul's face falls even further. "You go! I'll be right behind you guys." He spins immediately, strides towards the door.

"Okay," Paul calls behind him. "We'll see you soon!" 

Hugh resolutely does not turn back.

***

"So, drink?" Justin asks as Hugh's footsteps fade into the distance.

"Yeah," Paul says faintly, staring at the doorway. "Yes. Yeah. Drink."