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Chapter Text

December 24th, 1981

New York City

Frigid wind blows against Nick’s made up face as he glances up at the starless sky. City lights drown out their glow, neon advertising and ornately decorated shop windows the eye candy instead. Far from home, he reckons it’s the most wonderful time to visit this beautiful city. Everything seems to be bright and cheerful, while people rush around to visit their loved ones and purchase last minute gifts.

It’s getting late, and he needs to get to his girlfriend’s hotel before she begins to worry. Though that proves difficult, as he walks past window after window of enticing items. Fine clothing, jewelry, books, records and cassettes. It isn’t long before Nick finds himself distracted by the stylish display of a perfume shop. Little glass bottles, holding heavenly fragrances, in soft pink and cream hues, so attractive to the eye.

He has her gift with him, a dainty necklace in a small box packed securely in his suitcase. Yet it wouldn’t hurt to do some quick casual browsing, so he walks through the door and into the shop.

The store is lit by dreamy lamplight, with a fancy chandelier up above his head. It must be vintage. Glass beads dangle and sparkle, complimenting the eye catching inventory laid out on white cloth below. For a moment, he is transfixed. He’s always been enamored with pleasing visuals.

There’s an older woman behind the counter who smiles at him, and in turn he smiles too. She somewhat reminds him of his mother, who he needs to give a call once he arrives at the hotel, if it’s not too late back in Birmingham.

“If there’s anything I can help you with, let me know,” she voices softly in an accent that suggests she has always resided in this state. He is reminded once more that he isn’t in his home country.

Nick nods. “Thank you,” he voices, then begins to look around.

He quietly peruses the brands and scents, his knowledge of them likely uncommon for a man. He has always had these interests, in makeup and fashion, in pretty things women enjoy, and often wonders why most men don’t find the same joy he does in these things. Perhaps he’s just different, perhaps it’s something he hasn’t yet given a name. Why must it have one, anyway? As he gently selects a bottle that fits nicely in his hand, he wonders why people feel the need to label one another.

He reckons he’s just fine the way he is. Happy, even.

Nick sprays the tester bottle on the back of his hand, bringing it to his nose. This particular perfume smells of fresh roses and neroli, sweetly floral yet not overbearing. He reckons it’s a nice surprise. He anticipated getting his girlfriend a little something extra as a gift, yet he finds he desires this particular fragrance for himself.

Making his way to the counter, he asks for it by name. “I’ll take Arcadia, please.”

The woman goes into the back to look for the perfume. Nick waits patiently, admiring how the whole store seems to shine.

“You’ve got the last one,” she says when she returns with a charming white box. “It’s a new favorite of mine. It smells divine, doesn’t it?”

“Incredible, yes.”

“Is this a gift? I can wrap it up for you if you’d like.”

Nick nods, not thinking twice. “Yes, I’d love that. Or uh, she’d love that.”

The woman chuckles softly as she works. “Very lucky lady.”

He can feel his face getting warm, a blush creeping onto his cheeks uninvited. He says nothing, just digs in his pocket for his wallet to pay for the gift for himself.

“Thank you, you have yourself a merry Christmas now.”

“You too, take care.”

Nick is back in reality once more when he steps outside, reacquainted with the cold early evening air. Now he really needs to get himself to the hotel. No more distractions.

The pavement is crowded, while cars, buses, and taxi cabs pass by on the street. It’s a busy time of the year in one of America’s busiest cities. Nick suddenly finds himself a bit claustrophobic, seemingly surrounded. He brushes past a handful of people and hails for a cab.

One finally stops in front of him and he lets out a sigh of relief. He opens the door and climbs inside, bag and overstuffed suitcase in tow. He’s happy to finally be on his way to his destination.

The driver looks at him in the rear view mirror as he pulls away, blending into the traffic. Nick catches a glimpse of his striking blue eyes. “Where will you be headed tonight, um… sir?”

Still a bit frazzled, Nick then reads him the address scribbled on the slip of paper tucked within his wallet.

“Oh, that’s a lovely place,” the driver comments, his English accent unmissable. “Are you visiting from England?”

“I am,” he replies. “Are you as well?”

The driver laughs, which brings a genuine smile to Nick’s face. “Not anymore, I live here now. I’m from the Hertfordshire area though. You?”

“Birmingham.”

“I must say, I could tell.”

Nick makes eye contact with him through the mirror, as the flash of a nearby sign illuminates his face. They’re both grinning. He doesn’t have to see the driver’s mouth to know; he has adorable little crinkles near his eyes that tell him so. Nick looks away and out the cab window, trying to appear distracted when he’s really not, not by the city, at least.

The man’s eyes return to the road as they enter bumper to bumper traffic. “What’s the occasion then? I’m assuming the holidays?”

“I’m spending Christmas here with my girlfriend, actually.”

“Got yourself an American woman?” Nick nods as he guesses correctly. “I bet you have your hands full.”

Nick looks at him again. He looks quite young, perhaps around his age. Maybe a little older. “That I do, yes.”

“My fiancé is Canadian. We moved to the city a few months back, for the jobs, but the excitement too. There’s so much to do.”

Fiancé. Nick ponders referring to his girlfriend by that word. He’s thought about it before, though he’s still so young.

“I’ve thought about proposing,” he finds himself admitting to this complete stranger. It feels natural, somehow.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but you look like you’re sixteen,” the man tells him. “Could just be the makeup though.”

Nick bites his lip. He forgets about that at times, and though he’s long over being self conscious about it, he feels it rear its head again in this man’s gaze. Why does it suddenly matter? “I’m nineteen. I get that a lot, suppose it’ll be nice when I’m forty,” he jokes, light to chase his unease.

“Could have fooled me. I’m twenty-three. Getting up there,” he replies as rolls his eyes at himself.

“Still quite young, yourself.”

He tries to change lanes, head angled to the flow of traffic. “I suppose so.”

A few beats of silence pass by comfortably. Nick becomes aware of the radio playing classic Christmas songs, the volume low but loud enough to be heard over the hum of the city bustle outside. He feels as though he’s in a film, meeting someone who will become an important part of his story. Or perhaps he’s just enchanted by this stranger, for a reason he doesn’t quite understand yet.

“It’s a good look on you though, the uh, makeup.”

Nick isn’t sure if he’s hearing things at first, the compliment coming from out of the blue. He looks at the driver and it’s difficult to keep the fact that he’s flattered a secret.

“Thank you,” he replies instinctively. He feels his face heat up, heart beating a little quicker. It’s strange, yet he knows the reason why he feels this way. In a way, he always has known. It’s just not that easy to admit. “I suppose it’s not terribly common over here.”

“You’d be surprised. This is New York City, after all.”

Nick sees the hotel coming into view, and pushes the bit of disappointment that arises back down. He’s here to spend time with his girlfriend, not get acquainted with taxi drivers.

“Here we are,” the driver says as he pulls over to the curb.

Flustered once more, Nick opens his wallet to pay the man. As he hands him a crisp bill, their fingertips brush ever so slightly.

He feels him looking at his face, those piercing blue eyes strangely intoxicating, as though he’s under some sort of spell. “Have a wonderful holiday…”

“Simon,” he offers his name with a smile as he takes the bill from him.

“Nick.”

“Lovely. I hope you have a merry Christmas, Nick.”

With one last look, one last little smile, he exits the cab. His clammy hand grips the handle of his suitcase tightly. Simon effectively robbed him of his breath. He can’t shake it, can’t seem to get a grip.

He’s so absentminded that he doesn’t realize he left the perfume bag behind, on the seat, until he’s at the desk.  By then, it’s too late.

Chapter Text

December 23rd, 1982

New York City

The sky is dreary, a cloudy gray that reminds him of home. Snow is beginning to pile up along the walkways and the street, coming down harder by the minute. Even so, the city traffic remains relentless. Nick supposes this year will be a white Christmas after all, if the chill in the air is meant to stick around for the next two days. Something tells him it will.

Walking past familiar sceneries, Nick finds himself pondering if he has been here before. When he passes a record store he knows he can recall, that’s when it dawns on him. He was at this exact spot last year, just one day later than today.

Not much has changed since last year. He’s still going to that same hotel, spending Christmas in New York with his girlfriend. She’s one to adopt tradition, and he finds it’s easier to go along with that than to question it. And he supposes he’s content with that. For now, at least.

A few more paces and he nears the perfume shop. The window is decorated much the same as it was the year prior, with some new fragrances showcased in the front. It’s impossible for him not to recall the events of last Christmas Eve.

He had been so entranced by the taxi driver that he had forgotten the perfume he bought on the seat. He remembers how annoyed he was with himself for being scatterbrained, but also the feeling of quiet disappointment that came when he and Simon parted ways. He’ll never forget him; he made an impression that is one in a million. Something, someone, so incredible and rare.

He wonders where he is now, even though he knows it’s silly. All they had was one encounter, meeting and goodbye in a few minutes, but he can’t seem to forget. The holidays are a strange time. Nick blames them for his fixation, the fluttering feeling that fills him when he thinks of him.

Instead of walking further, he decides it’s time to get a cab. He stands on the pavement for a moment, snow collecting on the sleeves of his coat. It’s beautiful, yet the chill begins to set in, straight to the bone. He longs for warmth in the worst way.

A taxi eventually slows to a stop in front of him. He opens the door and gets inside, and he is stunned when he gets a glimpse of the driver. It… it can’t be, can it?

“Hey, I know you,” Simon says, while Nick wonders briefly if he’s dreaming this up. “Nick, how are you?”

He remembers me. Nick smiles, both the cab and his presence cozy warm. “Hi Simon, I’m doing good. Yourself?”

“Just wonderful, even with this weather. I’m not letting it ruin my day. That goes for the traffic too. So, where to today?”

“Same as last year, if you can recall.”

Simon meets his eye in the rear view mirror. “Of course I do.” Nick swears he catches a wink. “Spending time with the girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Nick tells him. “Wish I was someplace warmer though.”

“I was just going to ask, why are you here and not on a warm tropical island?”

“Well, maybe next year.”

“I take it you didn’t propose then.”

Nick finds himself a bit perplexed; this man remembered so much about him from that short conversation a year prior. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

Simon nods, appearing deep in thought. “That’s okay,” he begins. “It’s really a serious thing, you want to make the right decision.”

Nick likes his gentle sensibility, how he listens and offers his understanding. It’s something he craves in a meaningful connection with someone. He looks at his hands and exhales.

“You’re right. I guess I need to figure out who I am first, before I get tied down.”

“And you will as you get older. It gets easier, believe me.”

His words are calming and Nick trusts them, trusts him. A little lost in his journey, he finds he could use somebody like Simon in his life, to offer that reassurance he always seems to be seeking. It seems like a miracle when he finds it.

Nick looks out the window, the snow making it hard to see much at all. He feels safe in this moment, like all the rest of the world is far, far away and it’s just the two of them here.

“Do you like living in New York?” Nick asks, eager to get to know him better.

“I do, very much, actually. I think it’s the perfect place to go if you need a fresh start. Sometimes I miss England. I visit home when I can, or my family flies in for a few days. They don’t mind it. We all love to travel.”

“I do enjoy traveling.” Nick watches his blue eyes in the mirror, unaware of his watchful gaze. “I’ve always wanted to see Paris.”

They come to a stop and Simon turns to look back at him. “I would take you there right now in his cab if I could.”

Nick is robbed of his breath. Simon’s words are so sincere, and very obviously flirtatious. His lips part to speak and no sound comes out. Is there a chance? Could he be interested?

Before he can get ahead of himself, he forces himself to get a grip. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s true.”

Once again, Nick is transfixed. He yearns for this cab ride to last a little longer, to linger like a pleasant dream. There’s something about Simon he cannot deny he’s into.

They start moving again, and Nick takes notice to the subtle freckles dotted along Simon’s face. His heart skips a beat or two. There’s so much he could say, and yet nothing seems appropriate. The electricity between them speaks for itself.

“Here you are,” comes Simon’s voice again, bringing Nick out of his head. “Oh, before you go, I have something for you.”

Nick is pulling money out of his wallet while Simon retrieves something from the driver side pocket. When he looks up, he is met with the gift bag from the perfume shop last year. He can hardly believe his eyes.

“You kept it all this time?” Nick asks, amazed as he hands it to him.

Simon smiles. “Of course I did. I was just hoping I would see you again.”

Hoping I would see you again. Something tells Nick his kindness is more than a stranger’s. He feels warm all over, quietly enthralled.

“Thank you very much.” It’s all he can say, really. In turn, he pays him for the ride.

“Merry Christmas, Nick. Stay warm.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Simon.”

Nick knows he’s going to be warm all evening.

Chapter Text

December 12th, 1983

New York City

“Simon, I’d like you to meet my best friend, John.”

Nick watches Simon greet his longtime friend. The two of them shake hands, eye to eye, similar in height. He suddenly feels very small compared to them.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, John. Great to meet you.”

“Likewise,” John says, cheery. “Nick just can’t stop talking about y— ow!”

Nick elbows him in the side, but it’s no use. The words are already out. Simon just chuckles, and Nick supposes it doesn’t matter if he finds out his little secret. They haven’t talked about it, yet he knows there’s a good chance he feels the same way about him. It’s in his actions, in the words he says.

Sometimes he wonders what he’s waiting for. They’re friends, both newly single, with almost nothing to lose. Almost. There’s a part of Nick that wants to take things slow, make this count and get to know him better. He wishes to cherish it. Simon isn’t just anyone; he’s someone special, and he’s always known this.

He is also intimidated by the premise of a long distance relationship. He knows if he and Simon ever get together, he wants to be able to see him every day, to spend as much time as he possibly can with him. It’s what they both deserve at the end of the day, love and companionship without an ocean between them.

The three of them start walking together, the park beautifully frost covered. With less than two weeks until Christmas, there’s a certain magic in the air that cannot be mistaken for anything else. Nick is between his best friend and someone he could find himself loving. Maybe, just maybe, he has already started to fall. He knew it was inevitable.

Then Simon looks at him, eyes shining bright with happiness. He drapes an arm over his shoulders and keeps it there as they walk. Nick feels more at home than he’s ever felt in his life.

And to think a year ago, he wasn’t sure if he would ever see this man again. Now, they’re becoming good friends. Nick finds himself quite glad Simon left a note in the perfume bag he gave back to him last Christmas.

“So, you two grew up in Brum together?”

John then begins to tell stories of how they met in their childhood, and onto their teenage years, the days of Bowie and Roxy and wearing too much red lipstick. Nick is taken back to that era of his life, the quiet self discovery he found in smudging his eyeliner and fixing the frilly white collar of his blouse in the mirror. His Rum Runner days may be long over, yet within him, they live on.

“You used to go to the Rum Runner? I did too!” Simon exclaims, excited by the mention of the club.

Nick wonders how they never met before he came to New York. “Oh yes, every weekend. Johnny and I used to shop all the time for new things to wear and would always end up picking such similar outfits.”

“From the women’s section, might I add,” John chuckles. “You can just imagine the looks we would get on the train.”

“They were probably just jealous,” Simon says, looking down at Nick and meeting his eye.

“If you say so.”

“Pretty sure I still have a pair of pink leopard print tights at home actually.”

Nick does his best to picture what that would look like and he can’t help that it makes him laugh.

“Did you just picture that?” Simon asks, his tone suggestive.

“Maybe...”

“And I think he liked it a little too much,” John chimes in, teasing.

“Nigel!”

Simon lets out a hearty laugh, burying his face in the crook of Nick’s neck. His face is rosy, not just from the cold, but from embarrassment as well. He would be giving John a dirty look if it wasn’t for Simon being so close.

As if he can sense Nick’s mood, Simon changes the subject. “Hey, how about we head down the street and get some lunch?”

“Lunch sounds good.”

He pulls away and Nick misses his touch as soon as it’s gone. John then gives him a look that seems to say I think he likes you too. Or at least, that’s what Nick is hoping for, anyway.

There’s something enchanting about stepping in from the cold and into a warm restaurant in the winter. There’s also something about the way Simon looks at him that makes him feel like he’s about to fall completely and utterly in love with him, on the edge and unafraid. In the here and now, he doesn’t think about the future, or what it may hold. He doesn’t think about the fact that he’s going home for Christmas this year. He just looks in Simon’s eyes.

In that moment, it’s enough. It’s more than enough to just be by his side; Nick knows how lucky he is.

Chapter Text

December 22nd, 1984

New York City

Simon’s Christmas party is coming to a close, the hours passing and people saying their goodbyes before leaving. Nick is too busy sobering up from one too many glasses of red wine to notice that he’s the last one left. It doesn’t occur to him until Simon sits down next to him on the sofa.

They’re alone together. He’s aware of how close he is and how he only wishes he could get closer, somehow. He knows that it’s not the wine talking; he has felt this way for so long that it’s impossible to ignore it any longer.

He desires to tangle his hands in his blonde locks and kiss him till they’re both breathless. He longs to touch and be touched. He wants him. Feelings mix with his tipsy state of mind, yet some of his usual sensibility remains. He doesn’t act on this feeling, no matter how much he wants to. Nick stares at his lips, looking so warm in the buttery lamplight. He waits for him to say something. Anticipating anything.

Simon smiles at him, then looks down at his hands. It’s rare to see him at a loss for words, and come to think of it, Nick isn’t sure if he’s ever seen him quite this way. The man wears his heart on his sleeve. He always knows what to say. Looking at his friend, Nick would die to know what he’s thinking now.

“You can… uh, stay the night, if you’d like.” Simon is clearly nervous, another unusual state to see him in.

“I would like that.” Nick’s voice comes out soft, almost a whisper. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, blood flowing with feeling. Words are pouring out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Simon, can I tell you something?”

Their eyes meet, blue on green, caught in a private moment. “I actually have something I want to tell you, too.”

“You can go first,” Nick tells him, though he’s pretty sure they’re thinking the same thing, and his mind goes wild with the thought.

Simon then tentatively reaches for Nick’s hand. He of course allows this, and he feels him caress, gentle. Nick discovers a brand new thrill in his touch. He finds rebirth in his wordless confession of adoration. His eyes don’t leave his face, and he’s waiting, waiting for him to speak those words.

And the words come out in a simple fashion, the purest way they can be uttered. “I love you.”

For a moment, Nick can’t speak. He feels as though he has waited for this for a lifetime, to hear earnest words from somebody he wants the way he wants Simon. It’s more than a wanting, more than anything physical and anything that meets the eye. It’s a soul connection.

Part of him knows he and Simon were meant to find one another. Perhaps he believes in fate, for he cannot think of any other way to explain how such an incredible thing could happen to him.

Simon is still holding his hand. Nick finds himself glad he got into that taxi cab years back, in the right place and right time to meet this wonderful man.

“I love you too,” he says, finally. He has dreamed of this moment and now that it’s here, it seems surreal in the most pleasant fashion.

He doesn’t feel drunk anymore, not in the slightest. Just warm. So warm.

Simon beams, his happiness as bright and beautiful as the Christmas lights outside, if not more so. He squeezes Nick’s hand. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for ages.”

“Me too.”

“Was that what you wanted to tell me?”

Nick moves closer to him, almost in his lap. “It was.”

Simon shakes his head. “Then I waited too long, didn’t I? Fuck… I could have told you—”

“No,” Nick interrupts. “You didn’t. This is right. This is perfect, actually.”

He is then pulled into a warm embrace, Simon’s arms around him and they feel like home should feel. He smiles wide against his jumper, relaxing against the man he loves. An overwhelming feeling of security fills his veins; he knows he’s going to be taken care of, and he will do the same for Simon in return.

He supposes that’s what Christmas is about, to love and be loved in return. But this isn’t just for Christmas. It’s for every other day of the year, too.

They’re building the foundation of a lasting love.

“Nick?” Simon mumbles against the crook of his neck.

“Yes?”

“I wanna kiss you so bad.”

The suggestion nearly makes Nick swoon. He wants the same. “Then do it,” he whispers, glowing from the inside out.

He feels Simon pull back from their embrace and cup his cheek, tenderness in every movement. They look at one another for what feels like forever, until moving in, lips finally meeting.

Nick smiles into the kiss. Simon starts to smile too, until they have to break apart to laugh at themselves.

They have found pure joy.

Chapter Text

December 25th, 1985

Birmingham

“Nick…”

Through the haze of slumber, Nick shifts in warm sheets. He feels a pair of soft lips on his forehead, then his cheek, and eventually opens his eyes to the glow of morning.

“Merry Christmas, dear.”

Simon is running his fingers through Nick’s black hair before he can say anything, his touch familiar and pleasant. It’s early, much earlier than he is used to being awake, but today is one day he can make an exception for.

Nick closes his eyes again and smiles. “Merry Christmas,” he says, still groggy. He’s still exhausted from the traveling.

“You know,” Simon begins, “I hate to wake you before eleven.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

Nick curls into his chest, never wanting to leave this heavenly warmth. “Let’s stay a few more minutes. Then we can get up and open presents.”

Simon brings him closer, arm wrapped around him tight. “Deal.”

It’s tempting to fall back asleep, too tempting. Nick doesn’t though. He savors the relaxing moments he has with his boyfriend in bed.

And beside their favorite place to be, on the nightstand, there is a bottle of perfume. It proudly represents the day they met, and the day they met again, by pure chance.

Nick smiles whenever he thinks about it. He didn’t realize what he was looking for, yet when he found it, he knew.

He found Simon.