Archive of Our Own

*****

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas (Only You)

Trent Bailey checked his reflection in his visor one more time. His dark hair was a little messy, a little too long. His green eyes were a little too bright, too much of a dead giveaway for how excited he was. His skin looked great though, for the first time since he was thirteen there were no breakouts or ugly pimples anywhere.

It was amazing what happened to a person’s body when they quit doing drugs.

A week ago, it had been fifteen months since the last time Trent had been high. It had been a long, painful, difficult fifteen months – eight of which Trent spent in rehab. It was worth it though; sobriety was worth every tear he shed, every pill he took, every grueling therapy session he didn’t walk out of.

The highs had been great, but they had been fake. What was real was Trent’s dad, the man that loved him best in the world. Trent’s little sister, Rebecca, who looked up to Trent. Trent’s friends – the ones he made at Clear Minds who supported his sobriety – they were real too.

And so was the man walking toward Trent’s car where it was parked in the Starbucks parking lot.

Trent quickly flipped his visor back up and pulled his lucky jacket on over his hoodie to fight off the frigid New York winter chill. The weather made Trent nostalgic for Arizona, where he and his friend Xavier had been during the bulk of Trent’s addiction, but there weren’t any Draco Malfoys in Arizona, were there?

Draco raised a hand at Trent when he saw him climb out of his car and Trent smiled back. Draco looked great, he always did. With his navy peacoat on, a soft looking pair of grey slacks, it was hard to remember that Draco wasn’t just a doctor with an interest in diseases of the blood, he was also a wizard. Like Harry, Trent’s best friend and, according to their friend Michelle, his Twinkle-Twin.

Trent thought magic was just mind-blowing enough to make him think he was on a bad trip. He had went to a wedding with Draco last January, two of Draco and Harry’s friends had gotten married and Trent had been Draco’s plus one. The whole event had been beautiful, but the open displays of magic made Trent itch just under his skin… wondering if maybe he was high and hallucinating the entire thing.

He had gotten more used to it over the last year, with his coffee dates with Draco, dinners with Luna Lovegood and Trent’s friend Taylor, and visits to Harry’s house when he had his godson Teddy over. Harry didn’t use much magic, he said it was a trigger more days than not, but Teddy used magic every time he changed his appearance.

Draco also didn’t use much magic around Trent, he said it wasn’t technically legal for Trent to know about magic without having some type of relationship to a witch or wizard. Trent was kind of hoping that this date would be the one to change that.

Trent was fifteen-months sober. His therapist said that Trent was in a good place to finally consider a romantic relationship. It was Christmas Eve in New York City… really, everything was fit together so well that Trent thought there should be Claire de Lune playing as the background music.

It would really be a great time for Trent and Draco to at least, maybe, decide what they were. Trent would really like to be boyfriends, even if he thought Draco could do better. Harry had laughed when Trent told him that last weekend, he said that it was Trent who could do better. But Trent was the twenty year-old cocaine addict fresh out of rehab with no immediate plans for his future and Draco was a doctor (‘healer’, he called it) and beautiful and smart and kind and all the best things in the world.

He was also kind of sassy, which Trent liked.

“Hi.” Draco reached Trent while Trent had just been staring at him, getting all soft inside about Draco. With the snow falling and landing in his light blonde hair, Draco looked kind of angelic.

Trent wished he could draw, like Harry, so he could recapture Draco’s face over and over.

“Hey.” Trent smiled widely and, unable to hold himself back, he pulled his white chip from his pocket and held it up for Draco to see. “Fifteen months, Dray.”

Draco hesitated before taking the chip, which Trent thought was sweet. Draco had been with Trent once, at a pizzeria, when Trent lost his nine-month chip and had sort of an embarrassing meltdown over it.

“This is brilliant,” Draco said, his voice as soft as it always was. Trent heard Draco scream one time, at Harry, but other than that single instance he was always soft-spoken. It made Trent feel relaxed, safe, in a way. Trent’s dad was like that, soft-spoken, and Trent tended to associate soft voices with safety.

Which might be stupid, but Trent’s therapist said it wasn’t, so…

“I’m proud of you,” Draco said as he returned the chip to Trent. Their fingers brushed, warmth in the cold, and Trent blushed at the praise and the brief contact.

“Thanks,” Trent said, a little shyly. He held his chip tight while he tilted his head toward the coffee shop they always met at. “Should we go inside?”

“Okay then,” Draco agreed.

They didn’t talk much while they went inside and ordered drinks and sandwiches. It wasn’t a weird quiet though, it was a quiet where Trent knew what Draco would order, Draco knew that Trent would insist on paying, and Trent would grin when Draco fetched napkins and sugar for them while Trent collected their tray.

It was comfortable quiet.

“How’s your family?” Draco asked after they were seated. Trent had shed his outer coat the instant they sat and he felt a little underdressed in his green Weeping Willow hoodie as compared to Draco’s nice sweater. The hoodie was another lucky item though, or maybe a comfort item? Trent wasn’t sure which.

All he knew was that if he asked Draco about what their relationship was and Draco laughed in Trent’s face, Trent wouldn’t be able to snort cocaine off a mirror without seeing his dad’s band logo in the reflection. And that would be enough to stop Trent… probably.

No, definitely. Definitely it would be.

“Good,” Trent told him, always happy that Draco asked about his family every time they got together. “Becca is really excited for Christmas. She keeps calling it our first Christmas together, like I wasn’t there last year too.”

Becca was great, really just the sweetest sister that Trent could ask for. She was also just a kid though and it bothered Trent when she said it would be their first Christmas all together as a family. Trent had technically been in rehab last Christmas, but he still went home for the break. Dad said that Becca probably just forgot, since she was little and had lived more of her life without Trent around than with him; Trent just didn’t like it.

“Hmm…” Draco took a sip of his latte and looked thoughtful. “Do you have any pictures from last Christmas you could show her?” he asked when he carefully placed the mug back on the table between them. “It might help jog her memory?”

Trent beamed. Why didn’t he think of that? That was one of the many great things about Draco… he didn’t brush off Trent’s (relatively) small complaints, he just listened and offered advice when he had it.

“That’s a great idea,” Trent said, thinking of the many photos he took last Christmas. Last year had been the first year Trent spent the holiday with his dad and sister, as Trent had been in Arizona with Xavier for almost all of Becca’s Christmases before then. There had been one year where Trent had been in the hospital, his dad by his side, but Becca had only been four that year and unlikely to remember having to spend the holiday with Dad’s band-family.

“How’s your mother?” Trent asked, turning the question back on Draco. Trent didn’t quite understand all the intricacies of Draco’s family, since it involved a lot of magic and wars and something Harry called Death Eaters, but Trent knew Draco loved his mom and he called her mother instead of ‘Mom’.

“She’s well,” Draco said, looking down. “I believe she’s spending the holiday with a friend in Italy, we haven’t talked much.”

Trent reached his hand across the table to brush his fingers on Draco’s. “I’m sorry,” he said when Draco looked from their hands to Trent’s face. There was something sad in Draco’s eyes, something that always popped up when they talked about things that were bothering Draco. “Could you go to Italy with her?”

“I likely wouldn’t even if I could,” Draco said slowly, always choosing his words carefully. He curled his lips in a faint grin and pulled his hand away so that he could push the plate holding Trent’s sandwich toward him. “Eat and I’ll regale you with the tale of the five separate invitations I’ve turned down from Ron’s family.”

Trent laughed and did as he was told. Ron was the man whose wedding Trent went to, Draco and Harry’s friend from school. Trent knew, because Harry told him, that Draco used to have a little crush on Ron’s wife, but they were all as close as family by then.

Draco told Trent about getting a letter from Ron, one from Charlie – who had attended the same rehab that Trent had – and one from their younger sister Ginny. Then, when Draco politely turned down each invite to spend Christmas with ‘the pushy gingers’, Ron’s wife Hermione cornered him at work to demand he spend Christmas with them.

“And I could ignore Hermione, I did it for years,” Draco was saying. “But you know who I cannot ignore? Ron’s mother, who arrived at my flat, Trent.”

Trent laughed at Draco’s exasperation. It sounded sweet, really, that there was a big family tripping over themselves to make sure Draco felt included, but it also sounded a little bit smothering too.

“You could always tell them that you’re spending the holiday with someone else,” Trent suggested with a grin. “Harry might back you up.”

“Doubtful,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. It cracked Trent up that Harry and Draco were always pretending to not be friends when Trent had been with Draco once when Harry’s dad called him after Harry came down with what was just the flu. Draco had left Trent instantly, literally disappearing in the middle of the park they had been walking through. Trent had been kind of annoyed by it, because, like… he would have just drove Draco to Harry’s place? But it had been sweet too, that Draco had been so concerned for Harry, who really was Trent’s best friend.

And even if Harry said that Trent could do better than Draco, he also texted him just that morning and wished him luck on his date.

So… they were clearly friends.

“Potter will probably be attending dinner with them all, regardless,” Draco said. “I saw his ‘boyfriend’ last month and he even knew my name this time.” Draco did the air quotes with one hand, making Trent laugh again. Draco always had an off-comment about Harry’s boyfriend ever since Harry found the poor guy wandering around, disoriented and confused.

Trent liked Bucky well enough, but he also thought that the history between Harry and Bucky was complicated and tragic and just really freaking romantic. Bucky made a deal with a God to make Harry healthy, then Harry dedicated himself to helping Bucky find himself again. It was the sort of relationship that movies could be made about and still never capture every detail just right.

“Well…” Trent resisted the urge to fidget, to touch his hair. He was trying to look confident, not awkward and silly. “You could tell them all you’re having Christmas dinner with my family?” he said, a little shy. Draco blinked, looking surprised, and Trent pushed forward. “And then, you know, if you wanted… you could actually come over for dinner. It’s okay if not,” he said hastily, “Uncle Will and Aunt Emily are coming, probably Uncle Blake too. So it’ll be a lot of old rockstars talking about their glory days, but it might still be fun.”

Trent was being glib, in case Draco turned him down. It would definitely be great, it always was when Trent’s family all got together. Dad didn’t tour much anymore, but Weeping Willow had just put out a new album on Trent’s one year of sobriety date. So they weren’t really past their ‘glory days’, but Trent still teased them about it when he could.

“You want me to come meet your family?” Draco asked Trent. “On Christmas?”

“I mean,” Trent shrugged and reached up to push his hair behind his ear, his smile turning nervous, “they’ve met almost all my other friends, you know? So it wouldn’t be weird.”

As soon as Trent said it, he wanted to smack himself. That wasn’t exactly what he meant, he didn’t want Draco only as a friend (though he would happily continue to be friends if Draco wasn’t actually interested in Trent).

Draco opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again, closed it.

“That – yes,” he said, quiet and stilted. “I could come to dinner, if this isn’t a pity invite, as I assure you I won’t be languishing away in loneliness without it.”

Trent relaxed in the face of Draco’s acceptance, even if it wasn’t quite what he meant, and he grinned at him teasingly.

“You’ll just work yourself to death if you don’t come for dinner,” Trent joked. It was kind of a joke, kind of not. Draco really did work too much, he just hyper fixated on problems and worked and worked and worked until he found solutions.

Trent didn’t hear from him for an entire month when Draco was working on his treatment for HIV in witches and wizards. It made Trent feel proud of him, that Draco was someone who just cared so much, and it made him wish that he knew how to help in any way so it wasn’t always Draco working by himself.

“I am working on something new,” Draco said, getting hesitant again. “It’s quite boring though.”

“I doubt it.” Trent cupped his half-empty drink in both hands and leaned forward to give Draco his complete attention. “Will you tell me about it?”

Draco turned a little pink in the cheeks, like he always did when Trent wanted to hear about his work. Maybe witches and wizards thought it was boring, but Trent thought the medical aspect of magic was fascinating.

They finished their lunch while Draco told Trent about a cure for Cat Flu, something that was like a really bad normal flu and only infected witches and wizards. Apparently the current cure for it had side-effects that made kids sleepy and lethargic, but Draco thought it could be completely changed so they recovered without any lingering issues.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, grimacing after he finished sharing his ideas on the cure. “I’m talking too much. What have you been doing? Have you heard back from Julliard yet?”

“I asked,” Trent reminded him. “I like hearing about your work. And… and, yeah,” he felt shy again, but happy too. “I got accepted, Dray. Or accepted to interview in person, anyway.”

Draco lit up so genuinely that it was as if it was his achievement. Draco’s entire face transformed when he smiled and it made him look young, happy, carefree.

Trent liked his smile.

“I knew you would,” Draco said with a trace of arrogance. “They watched the film you made, right? They would be foolish to not want you to attend their school.”

“I’m not in yet,” Trent reminded him, warm on the inside from Draco’s belief in him. “I’ll interview after the holidays, and then… then maybe,” he allowed.

“They’ll accept you,” Draco said. He was the one to reach out and grasp Trent’s hand then, squeezing it while he smiled.

Trent didn’t want to jinx it, but Julliard was the dream. Julliard had been the dream when Trent was in foster care, sneaking time on the piano at the church his foster parents attended. Julliard had been the dream when Trent’s dad adopted him and encouraged his love of piano. Julliard had been the dream when Trent was so strung-out that he didn’t know his own name but still knew the notes for Chopin. Julliard was on Trent’s list of goals he made in rehab, written in gold ink.

There was another goal, a silly one that Trent only added recently. It was in grey ink (Trent had a gel pen in every color… he liked his lists to have colorful meanings) that matched Draco’s eyes and it said: ‘experience a romance’.

Trent had never actually had a romance before. He had never dated around, like Xavier did. Trent had never even been kissed before… not really.

It was never a big deal, Trent didn’t ever feel the need to find a partner. Not when he had his family and more problems alone than he would expect anyone else to put up with. But Trent hadn’t been looking for Draco, Draco just sort of found him… and if Trent had dreamt up someone he could see as a partner… Draco would pretty much be it.

With their hands still clasped on the table, Trent asked Draco if he wanted to go walk around Times Square for a bit. It was cold and snowy, but Trent just didn’t want their date to end… not until Trent worked up the courage to ask Draco if he wanted to change their friendship to something more.

*****

Draco compulsively squeezed Trent’s hand and pulled him away from a crowd that passed too closely to them on the sidewalk.

Trent looked over at him with a grateful look in his eyes, which was absurd.

Draco had spent nearly a year having occasional get-togethers with Trent. They had to work around Trent’s schedule at the rehabilitation center he had been in, and Draco’s work at St Mungo’s. Then they worked around Trent’s meetings with other individuals with addiction (Trent and Potter called them ‘addicts’ and occasionally laughingly said ‘junkies’, but they had earned the right when they poisoned themselves) and his meetings with his many muggle healers.

It meant that Draco had almost twelve months to get to know Trent, to pick up on what made him frown, what made him smile.

Crowds, particularly crowds of men, jostling him made Trent frown.

Draco, of all the inane things, made him smile.

The two of them walked around the city, the place that was so very transformed with snow and décor to the point where it appeared magical. Trent talked about his sister, the little girl he doted on with every word he said. Draco, when asked, told Trent about holidays from his childhood.

They were very different, the two of them. Trent was vicarious, a vivid streak of color coming from years of greytones. Trent was bright, bubbly, outgoing. Draco felt as if he were a shade of beige, as dull of a person as could exist.

Draco actually took pride in being dull, unnoticed. Draco spent too many years yearning for a spotlight and receiving it to ever crave it again.

It was a peculiar… friendship… but one that Draco was quite grateful to have. The days he spent with Trent were often some of his happiest times, certainly his most relaxed.

Trent was very accepting of Draco, even with all of Draco’s own quirks. It was unfathomable, that Trent would enjoy spending so much time with Draco.

It made Draco nervous to upset their status quo, though he would like for them to change their ‘something more than friendship’ to something that Draco thought suited them better… such as boyfriends (a nearly tacky label), or partners.

Partners was good. It implied a nice equality between them that Draco didn’t believe to be true.

Trent was good, clear down to his beautiful soul. Trent loved his family, his friends. Trent worked harder than anyone to find and hold his sobriety, never slipping up as Draco knew that Potter had – that many individuals with addiction did.

Trent stumbled and fell in the dark then climbed his way to the light on his own. It made him luminescent, special, perfect.

Draco was just another man working to dispel the shadows that clung to him, the ones he invited in to begin with.

So they weren’t equal, but Trent seemed content with Draco regardless and Draco thought one day he would deserve that type of acceptance.

“Should I bring something? Tomorrow?” Draco asked when there was a lull in their conversation. They were merely wandering the streets, neither seeming to want to end their time together too soon. It had been niggling at Draco though that he had accepted an invitation to Trent’s home the next evening.

Trent’s muggle home… with his muggle family… the musical muggles that would question why Draco was there…

“No, you’re fine,” Trent said, smiling Draco’s favorite crooked smile at him. For as fragile as Trent appeared, Draco knew he was anything but. “Dad usually has dinner catered so nobody has to cook and Aunt Emily might bring some desserts anyway, she loves to bake.”

Draco hummed and considered something he could bring for Trent’s sister, Rebecca. There were magical toy shops that Draco could find something for a small child at, but for a muggle girl? Draco would have to get inventive… or ask Hermione for assistance.

Hermione would know what little muggle girls liked, she had once been one after all.

“I’ve told my dad about you, you know.” Trent peeked over at Draco, his face partially hidden by his hair. Draco’s fingers itched to tuck it behind his ear so he could see his face fully, but he resisted.

“Have you?” Draco asked, not truly surprised by that. Trent and his father seemed very close, by all accounts. They had a shared history of addiction, of struggle. They also shared their love for music and trainers, of all odd things to bond over.

Trent was mildly mad about trainers, Draco had learned that early on. Trent never wore boots or sandals, always a pair of trainers that would have some important logo on them. Currently, Draco glanced down, Trent was wearing a pair of oversized and chunky trainers, the tongue of them said ‘Osiris’ in bright green letters.

“Yeah.” Trent paused and tilted his face up to look at the enormous Christmas tree that decorated the center of the city. There were others around them, all laughing and smiling, pausing before the tree to admire it.

Draco merely looked at Trent, uninterested in anything else.

“I told him you were really smart, and thoughtful too,” Trent said, blushing prettily and not looking at Draco. It could be the cold, Trent was rather thin. But an intense hope in Draco wanted it to be a blush of emotion, maybe preceding an outpouring of the same desire Draco held.

“So you lied?” Draco said, grinning wryly. “I thought honesty was rather important.”

“It wasn’t a lie.” Trent turned and suddenly they were face to face and Draco was caught in Trent’s gaze, which could be rather intense at times. It certainly held Draco’s full attention, as did the words he said so softly.

“I think you’re really smart, thoughtful, and kind,” Trent said. “I like hearing about your day, about your work. I think the passion you have for taking away peoples suffering really says a lot about you, Dray.”

Draco knew his cheeks would be pink. Nobody called Draco ‘Dray’ except for Trent, Draco would correct them if they tried. It was an intimacy that only Trent held.

“I like you,” Trent emphasized, shuffling forward a step. When he lifted his hand that didn’t hold Draco’s, Draco could feel it come to rest on his hip as clearly as he would if he didn’t wear a coat over a wool sweater.

“I…” Draco found himself tongue-tied and with a dry throat. Trent wasn’t mocking Draco for his crush, Trent wouldn’t do such a thing. Trent didn’t seem to have a cruel bone in his body.

“I like you,” Draco admitted, rather helplessly. Trent was the second person that Draco had ever held childish fantasies about romance of, and the first was quite married and fully in the past.

Trent moved closer, a sparkle in his dark green eyes.

“You do?” he asked, bashful suddenly. “You mean it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Draco asked. He finally lost the battle with his will and raised his hand to tuck Trent’s hair behind his ear, allowing his hand to linger on the soft curve of Trent’s neck. “You have no idea… the thing you do to me.”

“Is it magical?” Trent asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper. It was an intimate moment, as if a spell had been cast solely for the two of them to enjoy.

“It’s the most magical thing I’ve experienced,” Draco told him in his own rough whisper.

It was.

Trent’s acceptance of Draco, his friendship, his support. Draco never knew how badly he needed someone like Trent, someone so good that he inspired Draco every day to strive to become even a few shades lighter, more like him.

“Draco…” Trent trailed off and Draco wondered if he felt as vulnerable as Draco did. Feelings were uncomfortable, naming them all the more so.

Draco needed to just be a tad braver, brave enough to…

“Trent, may I kiss you?” Draco asked.

Before Draco could feel embarrassed about his stiff words, his awkward delivery, Trent was nodding and moving closer and…

Their lips met.

It was brief, chaste, really. Trent’s lips were chapped, his face cold where it touched Draco’s.

There weren’t explosions of fireworks in Draco’s stomach, no feelings of falling down in a hopeless land of love and eternal affection.

There was Trent’s hand on Draco’s hip, his eyes smiling in Draco’s when they parted. There was a steadiness within him, a steadiness he lent to Draco with every moment they spent together.

“Trent, will you…” Draco lost his nerve. “Will you help me find something for your sister? I cannot show up empty-handed tomorrow.”

Trent’s eyebrows twitched and then he grinned. The grin became a smile, then a full laugh.

“Yeah,” Trent said, that smile warming Draco from the inside out. “I’ll help you find something for Becca. C’mon.”

Draco felt like a coward, having used all his bravery to ask for that one special kiss. Trent was a braver man than Draco by far though.

When Draco arrived at Trent’s family home the next afternoon, a box of chocolates for Trent, a wrapped doll for Rebecca, and a case of non-alcoholic butterbeer for Trent’s father and his coworkers, Trent was the one to greet him. And when Trent introduced Draco to his family, he did it so beautifully.

“This is Draco, my boyfriend.”

And even if ‘boyfriends’ sounded tacky in Draco’s mind, juvenile and silly. But it sounded just right when Trent said it.