Work Text:
“Johnny?”
Gheorghe pushed the farmhouse door open nervously. He'd been out in the topfield repairing one of the walls all morning and his hands were frozen. He tugged at the laces of his muddy boots ineffectively before looking around the empty room.
“Johnny where are...”
An almighty crash came from further inside the house.
“Fucking hell Johnny!”
Gheorghe rushed in, cold hands and muddy boots forgotten only to be stopped in his tracks by Johnny running out of the kitchen and slamming the door behind him.
“Are you alright?” Gheorghe looked Johnny up and down. “What happened?” He was red faced and covered with something that could have been flour but with flecks of green.
“Fucking...”, Johnny started to speak when the sound of something falling off a work surface onto the flagstone floor made both of them jump. He turned to look back at the closed door and his shoulders slumped. “Useless.”
Gheorghe reached out and pressed his hand against Johnny's chest feeling his racing pulse and shaky breathing.
“Are you injured?”
Johnny shook his head and reached up to push Gheorghe's hand away but as he felt his frozen fingers he stopped.
“You're like ice!” He grabbed for both of Gheorghe's hands and cradled them between his own. “What the hell happened to the gloves you were wearing?”
“They kept catching on the stone and then they tore,” Gheorghe looked down at their hands clasped between them. “I said I needed to get better ones but stop changing the subject, are you hurt?”
“It's a good job it's Christmas soon, if you've been a good boy maybe Santa will bring you some.” Johnny shook his head again. “Now come over here and get warm and dry before my grandmother sees you.”
Johnny pulled him over to the small fireplace and pushed him into a chair before attacking his muddy, tangled laces. Gheorghe looked down at his dark head and felt a wave of fondness. He'd been cursing Johnny from out there in the field, he'd been weirdly evasive recently and being left to rebuild the wall alone had stung but the gentleness in his hands and the way he paused to hold Gheorghe's foot in his hands once the boot was off reminded him of all the reasons he had stayed.
“At least you're not wet, just muddy.” Johnny looked up at Gheorghe as he shrugged his coat off and stretched in front of the fire. “You'll live.”
“But will you?” Gheorghe took in the sight of Johnny, covered in flour and green and, was that meat? “Are you going to tell me what you were fighting off in the kitchen?”
For a moment Johnny looked as if he was wrestling with himself, he flung a glance back at the kitchen door.
“Nothing, don't be daft.”
Gheorghe rolled his eyes and brushed at the worst mess on Johnny's shoulder.
“A very messy, noisy nothing.” Suddenly he stopped and took a deep breath. “What's that smell?”
“What smell? I can't smell anything, it's probably just you and that fucking mud.” Johnny jumped up and would have made a dash for the kitchen if Gheorghe hadn't grabbed his wrist.
“I know that smell.” He closed his eyes and breathed in again. “Sauerkraut. Miroase a Crăciun.”
“Why would there be sauerkraut here, now I know you're daft. Did you bang your head out there?” Johnny looked down at the floor and out of the window, avoiding Gheorghe's eyes. “Aren't you going to go and wash?”
“Johnny,” Gheorghe said softly and squeezed his wrist. “Johnny show me what you were doing.”
Johnny looked up and met his eyes, looking defiant but slightly ashamed, before nodding and helping Gheorghe to his feet.
In the kitchen there were pots and pans everywhere. A large bowl full of rice lay on one side on the counter, the rice was so sticky most of his was still in the bowl which had a large chunk taken out of it probably by the saucepan lying on the floor. There were cabbage leaves all across the counter and on every surface there seemed to be peelings, spices and all kinds of mess.
“Sarmale!” Gheorghe grinned as he looked at the mess. “Johnny, you're making me sarmale?”
He turned around to see an even redder faced Johnny than before.
“A mess is what I made.” He was determinedly looking at the mess and away from Gheorghe but eventually he took a deep breath and looked up. “I wanted to make your thing. I know Christmas here isn't like your family back home but...” he trailed off.
“Johnny,” Gheorghe's voice softened and he curled his fingers around Johnny's cheek. His hands were still cold but Johnny didn't flinch, just looked at him so vulnerable that Gheorghe would have forgiven him anything.
“Johnny they're perfect.” He paused and his lips quirked up into a smile. “Okay not perfect, but this is perfect and you don't need to make them alone. At home we all came into the kitchen together, it's so much work for one person.”
Gheorghe looked around the chaotic kitchen and then down at his own muddy clothes and Johnny's cabbage covered jumper.
“We are going to tidy up in here, and then we will wash up ourselves,” Gheorghe could feel Johnny's breathing hitch at that thought. “And then this evening we will use all these things you bought and made and I will show you my family's way to make sarmale. Does that sound good?”
“Yes,”Johnny whispered before reaching up and covering Gheorghe's hand with his own again. “Except you go and warm up by the fire whilst I tidy and then we can go up together. No catching cold this near to Christmas.”
“Of course,” Gheorghe smiled. “I couldn't be ill and miss the joy of seeing your father try our sarmale.”
“Bastard.” Johnny shoved at Gheorghe with his shoulder before pulling him back close and whispering, “Crăciun Fericit!”
The pronunciation was no more perfect than the mess in the kitchen but for the first time since walking through the door Gheorghe felt warmth flood his body and he bridged the gap between them for a Christmas kiss.