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The Gift of Blackmail

Summary:

In which Millard finds Enoch and Horace cuddling in their sleep, and decides Hugh, Fiona, and Emma need to know about it immediately.

Notes:

Happy holidays!!! Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates!

I want you to know that I told my boyfriend about the idea for this and he said "HA. GAY." And that is exactly how I feel about this fic

Thank you to albertoscorfano and my lovely boyfriend for reading this over for me <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

While his girlfriend Fiona sat back on his bed reading a new book she’d just gotten, Hugh was cleaning up his room, finding places for new gifts from the holidays. They may not have been fully over, but Christmas Day was one of the bigger celebrations of the holiday season, so from December 25th onward the year tended to wind down smoothly. Hugh’s favorite gift this Christmas other than Fiona’s newest flower arrangement sitting on his desk was a small notebook Noor had found for him from the present. It was small enough to fit in a pocket and had dots on the inside instead of lines, meant for drawing geometrically, but the cover was decorated with diagrams of honeybees. Every gift-giving holiday he ended up with something bee-related, but the repetitiveness never stopped him from enjoying the sentiment. He’d loved bees even before he learned of his peculiarity.

Someone knocked on his door, and he turned to see it open with no one visible on the other side. Millard. “You guys have a second?” he asked.

“Sure, what’s going on?” Hugh asked, a couple of bees flying out of his mouth and making the vague shape of a question mark. Fiona sat up and tilted her head in a silent repetition of the question.

“Something in the living room you two should see,” Millard said, sounding suspiciously happy. “You might wanna be quiet though. Wouldn’t want to disturb them.”

Intrigued, Hugh and Fiona exchanged glances, then quietly left the room and shut the door. Millard’s footsteps couldn’t be heard or followed; instead he shifted small objects on shelves and decorative tables in the hallways to mark his path. When they got to the doorway, Millard brushed his hand against Hugh’s shoulder to get him to stop.

Just through the doors, passed out on the couch, was Enoch, still wearing the bright red Santa hat he’d been no less than forced to wear by Claire and Olive. It wouldn’t have been so notable had Horace not been snuggled into his chest, their legs intertwined as they slept.

Fiona immediately started giggling quietly, Hugh having to bite his hand to keep from laughing.

“You can see why I needed to show you,” Millard whispered, trying to hold back laughter of his own.

“Oh, definitely,” Hugh said, then turned to Fiona. “Would you mind grabbing Emma, love? Tell her to bring the camera.”

Fiona fell into another fit of giggles, then quickly ran up to Emma’s room, making as little noise as she could.

“So how long have they been like this?” Hugh asked.

“About fifteen minutes,” Millard said.

“And you didn’t think to tell us sooner?”

“I had to make sure they’d stay asleep. You forget Enoch just received a new box of scalpel blades.”

“True, true.”

“And as funny as it would be, Horace has been awfully stressed out recently, it being December and all. Wouldn’t want to add embarrassment on top of everything.”

“But it’ll be a delightful addition to our stash of blackmail.”

“Oh, no doubt.”

Fiona arrived with Emma in tow, who took one look at the sleeping boys and immediately understood why Hugh had asked for the camera.

“Wyn’s going to get a kick out of this,” she said, taking a photo and gently placing the picture in her camera bag to develop. “That’s going in the scrapbook.”

“To think, of all the things we could’ve happened upon on Christmas,” Millard said. “Next year you’ve gotta snap one of them under the mistletoe, Em.”

“I think they’d murder me if I even tried.”

“Touché.”

Suppressing giggles the best they could, the four peculiars quietly crept outside to the backyard where they could safely burst into hysterics. Hugh actually started coughing from how hard he was laughing, and when he was done, he noticed the sun suspiciously low in the sky and checked his watch. “Oh, shit, it’s almost time to start preparing Christmas dinner. The Bird’s gonna have a fit when she sees that.”

“One of us can safely be around for it and not be in the crossfire,” Millard pointed out. “I’ll tell you how it goes. None of them will have a clue I was there.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For someone who claims to be so good at spying, the Bird seems to figure out where you are more than anyone else, Mill.”

She’s got a point, Fiona signed.

Hugh laughed. “How fast do you guys think this’ll get to the rest of the house?”

“Between the four of us?” Emma asked. “Dinner. At the latest.

Fiona snickered. They’re going to hate us for this.

“They’ll get over it,” Hugh said, taking her hand. “Come on, Jacob and Noor have to know about this.”

The pair headed back towards the house, hand in hand and quietly gossiping the entire way back. By the time they’d gotten inside, Enoch and Horace had already woken up, Horace running around the kitchen preparing things for Christmas dinner and Enoch sitting at the table, sleepily watching him and Miss Peregrine work.

Before he and Fiona headed back up to his room, Hugh walked over to Enoch and teasingly whispered, “How’d you sleep?”

Enoch’s eyes widened, and his face went redder than Hugh thought he’d ever seen him. “I will murder you, Apiston.”

Hugh just laughed, using a couple of his bees to mess with Enoch a little more before turning to the stairwell. When they reached the landing, Fiona kissed him on the cheek and headed out to the garden to grow the remaining vegetables needed.

“Make sure to tell me if they do anything else!” Hugh called after her.

“I hate you and everything you stand for, bee brain!” Enoch shouted. Horace just hid his blushing face in his hands, and Hugh laughed some more at the thought of Enoch probably making the exact same expression. Miss Peregrine scolded both Hugh and Enoch, but Hugh had long since stopped listening. For the moment, it was back to putting away his Christmas presents, with the added gift of having brand new blackmail against Enoch and Horace.

Notes:

My beta reader's gonna be so confused lol

Inspired by this lovely work albertoscorfano did for me for a mini Christmas art trade this year: https://www.tumblr.com/dragonsdendoodles/737645908237434880/everyone-go-follow-tomouraline-she-makes-the?source=share

I wonder how Enoch and Horace felt about that scrapbook inclusion >:3