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It had been nearly a month since Sebastian and Chris returned from their impromptu wedding in Paris and most days Sebastian still finds himself shuffling aimlessly around their spacious Cherry Creek home, unsure of what to do with himself. It’s not that there aren’t plenty of things to keep him occupied, quite the opposite. He’s got half a novel left to write, dozens of thank you notes to send, and a honeymoon in the Maldives Chris put him in charge of planning for after the holidays, only he can’t seem to focus long enough to accomplish much of anything. His mind, body, and soul all seem to be trying to figure out how to work together again in their new surroundings and Sebastian can’t seem to herd them all into going in the same direction.
Today, Sebastian manages to pull himself out of bed only a few minutes after Chris kisses him goodbye. He knows what day of the week it is for once (and not just because his phone reminds him) and has a list of tasks written neatly in his notebook beside the bed that he’s actually excited to complete, hungry for the feeling of accomplishment that would come with checking off each box as ‘done.’ He hops in the shower and, after shampooing his dark nest of hair, he finds his fingers tracing over the beard burn Chris left on his neck and inner thighs the night before. Paired with the musky spice of Chris’s body wash still lingering in the shower, Sebastian finds himself breathless and near tears with how intensely he misses his husband.
He resists calling Chris, settling instead for a quick text that reads ‘I love you so much it hurts’ before he makes himself a really strong pot of coffee. ‘Love you too, gorgeous. Good luck writing today,’ Chris replies almost instantly, but it doesn’t do much to keep Sebastian from ignoring his task list and venturing into Chris’s side of the walk-in closet to find something that still smells like him to wear. He settles on the forest green cashmere sweater Chris was wearing the weekend they first met in Vail. It’s at least two sizes too big for Sebastian and smells more like the redwood closet than Chris but he loves how slinky it feels against his bare skin and how he can tuck his hands up into the sleeves that dangle at least two inches past his fingertips. He tugs on a pair of his own holey, worn soft jeans and finds his way downstairs to at least pretend at being productive.
He gets settled cross-legged with his big mug of coffee and his new laptop on the sheepskin rug in front of the gas fireplace and tries to clear his mind. He opens up his ‘deep focus’ playlist and turns it up loud enough to fill the little corner he’s carved out into the airy, bright room. It’s a beautiful, warm December day in Colorado and the sky is pale blue and cloud free, illuminating the space in natural light.
“You can do this,” he mumbles to himself, a half-hearted vote of confidence as he clicks the link to his working copy out on the cloud. He resists the urge to read or edit what little he had written in the days before. He knew doing so was as bad as sitting there staring at his cursor blinking, just another way to procrastinate. Instead he thinks of his protagonist, a dreamy eyed, hard-edged girl who was struggling to find her place in the world, beating back the shadows with an elegant ferocity Sebastian wished he had seen in himself during darker times. She’s there, waiting for him to pull her off the page and send her on her journey but his keystrokes yield very little. He deletes the first few sentences he types three times before putting his laptop on the cushioned ottoman and falling back into the plush rug with a sigh.
He wasn’t sure he had the words in him anymore. All the confusion, pain, and angst that had once fueled his creativity seemed so distant now and slipping back into those characters felt like crawling back into the dried up husk of his former-self, the one he had happily shed. Maybe he should do what Chris suggested and try writing something else entirely. Sure, his publisher might not be overly thrilled with a complete change in concept, but at least he’d be working on something. It just seemed so daunting, even reckless.
“Jesus,” he sighs again, putting his hands up over his face and chuckling softly. “You just eloped! You knew Chris for all of two weeks before you married him. Changing your book is not that big of a fucking deal!” His words echo a little in the high-ceilinged room. “And now you’re shouting at yourself like an exasperated idiot.”
DING-DONG
The loud, brassy doorbell chime makes Sebastian’s whole body twitch with surprise, sending him into a fit of giggles that he barely has under control by the time he makes it up to answer.
“I have a delivery for Mr. Evans,” the man says from the sun drenched stoop, holding out a small clipboard and pen for Sebastian to sign.
“Oh, no. He’s not – ” Sebastian catches himself. “Sorry, I’m – actually that’s me. Haven’t had enough coffee yet, clearly.” He takes the clipboard from the deliveryman, rolling his eyes a little and shaking his head at himself. He’d get used to it someday, surely, but today was not that day.
Sebastian looks for a package when he hands the clipboard back but there’s no box at the man’s feet or in his hands. It’s then he realizes the deliveryman isn’t from Fed Ex or UPS. He’s wearing a black polo and khaki slacks and the plain white truck that’s pulled up to the curb in front of the house is as big as a full-sized U-Haul.
“Thanks, do you mind if we prop both of these open?” He asks brightly, glancing up at the big, double mahogany wood doors.
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Sebastian replies, a bit perplexed, stepping back to open the door on the other side of the large entryway.
“Perfect. Why don’t you show me where you want the tree and my partner and I will get it set up for you before we bring in the boxes.”
Wait. What? Tree. Tree? Giant moving truck. Private delivery service. A week before Christmas. Chris. Chris.
Sebastian’s mouth is only hanging open for a few seconds before he shakes out of his stupor and turns to lead the man into the living room.
Thirty minutes later and there is a ten foot tall blue spruce standing in front of the windows overlooking the backyard and a ridiculous stack of boxes filled with ornaments, lights, and other trimmings stacked by the fireplace. Before leaving, the delivery man hands Sebastian a small, red envelope with his name on it, written in Chris’s handwriting.
Merry (early) Christmas, my beloved.
This tree came from right outside our house up in Vail. I thought it would be nice to have a little piece of that place with us for the holidays since it was where I gave you my heart.
There should be enough decorations to trim half a dozen trees there. Pick out the things you like and I will have the rest sent back to the shop. I’ll be home soon to help you decorate it.
I love you. You’re the best present I could ever ask for.
Chris
~~~
By the time Chris makes it home, Sebastian has finished draping the tree in twinkling white lights and tinsel and is teetering on the step stool trying (and failing) to put an ornately painted, golden star on top.
“Sorry I got started without you. I wanted to wait but I –” Sebastian confesses, blushing. “I got excited. I’ve never had a real tree. When I was a kid we always had a fake one, it was falling apart and smelled like mothballs. More duct tape than evergreen.”
Chris beams up at him, pausing on the landing. “Well you’re certainly a pro at decorating. It looks amazing so far.”
Sebastian climbs down from the step ladder and rakes his fingers through his hair, cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red when his hand comes away with a few strands of tinsel. “You know, most husbands would just send flowers…” Sebastian says even though he’s so happy his face hurts from smiling.
“Well I missed you,” Chris says, his cheeks rosy pink where they peek out above his neatly trimmed beard. His bright blue eyes twinkle with the reflection of the white lights on the tree as he watches Sebastian from the doorway. They’re filled with love and endless wonder, like he was gazing upon his favorite painting, one he had only seen in books all his life and finally had the fortune of seeing in person.
“I missed you too,” Sebastian replies, feeling a bashful under Chris’s reverent gaze. “You don’t have to send me a twelve foot tree and an entire Hobby Lobby just because you miss me, you know.”
“I know that but I wanted to cheer you up. It’s a lot, all this change. I know it’s been hard. But it’s almost Christmas.” Chris flashes that thousand watt smile that makes his entire face light up with boyish charm. “This time of year has always meant a lot to me and now it’s a million times more special because I get to share it with you.” He finally steps across the threshold from the hall into the living room, pulling Sebastian into his arms. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little… overzealous when it comes to making new memories.”
“Your grand gestures will never cease to impress me, Mr. Evans. Believe me,” Sebastian reassures him, pushing up on the balls of his socked feet to press his mouth to Chris’s. Sebastian can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as they kiss, stars filling his eyes again at the fairytale his life had become.
“God, I love your smile,” Chris sighs dreamily, running his thumb over the line of Sebastian’s jaw, gazing deeply into his eyes. “I love making you smile, Mr. Evans.”
Sebastian cups Chris’s face and leans in for another slow, sumptuous kiss. It’s times like this he expects to wake up, to snap out of the glorious dream where this is his life, this is his husband.
Chris pulls back and smooths his hands over Sebastian’s shoulders, the neck of his too-big sweater exposing the pale curve of Sebastian’s collarbone. He leans in and presses a line of soft kisses along it, his thumb edging the soft material over to expose more of Sebastian’s shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Sebastian sighs as he slumps into Chris’s arms, tipping his head to the side to expose more of his neck. “I officially decided today I’m going to change my book.”
“Did you?” Chris looks up at him with a smile before nuzzling into Sebastian’s neck and breathing him in. “What are you going to write about? Have you decided?”
“Hmm,” he replies, nodding as Chris kisses a trail up his neck. “They say you should write what you know, it’s gonna be called ‘The Luckiest Boy in the World.’”
Sebastian was free of the shackles of his past and bathed in Chris’s beautiful, warm light where he could blossom and grow into whatever he wanted. He wouldn’t take that freedom for granted for another moment.
Sometimes love will bloom in the springtime
Then like flowers in summer it will grow
Just to fade away in the winter
When the cold winds begin to blow
But when it's evergreen, evergreen
It will last through the summer and winter too
When love is evergreen, evergreen
Like my love for you
So hold my hand and tell me
You'll be mine through laughter or through tears
Then let the whole world see, our love will be
Evergreen through all the years
For when it's evergreen, evergreen
It will last through the summer and winter too
When love is evergreen, evergreen
Like my love for you, like my love for you
Roy Orbison - Evergreen