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There’s no prize to perfection. It’s what Viktor mutters to himself when there's a project he’s working on he just can’t seem to get right.
Those words are meant to be comforting - except now, standing in the freezing cold, waiting for his boyfriend to pick the perfect Christmas tree, Jayce thinks there will be a price to perfection, and it might be his fingers, because if he'll stand here any longer, he’s gonna lose them to frostbite.
Yes, Viktor has been working on his perfectionism, but some habits are harder to kick than others. And Christmas is a peculiar exception to his ongoing growth as a person.
He runs the kitchen with militaristic precision during their Christmas baking. His gingerbreadhouses are marvels of architecture that would put the Sistine Chapel to shame. One year he tried to pick up knitting and would restart the whole process if he was dissatisfied with how his work turned out. (Until this day, Jayce hasn’t received the scarf he was promised.)
“That one,” Viktor says, finally, after twenty minutes of almost meditative contemplation. He’s pointing at the largest tree the booth has to offer.
“Vik, this tree is taller than me.” It’s quite the feat considering Jayce himself is two metres tall.
“I know. That's why it's perfect.”
“It doesn’t fit into our apartment.”
“We’ll put it on the balcony.”
“You want to exchange gifts on the balcony?” Jayce has a weird sense of deja-vu. He could swear they argued about the size of their tree last year, too.
“Well, you could cut off the tip of the tree so it'll fit.”
“We could also just buy a smaller tree.”
“But this one has the perfect size to girth ratio.”
And Jayce isn’t a child, but Viktor just gave him the perfect opening for a dick joke. Before he can open his mouth, Viktor whacks the back of his legs with his cane, like he knew what he was going to say. Jayce swears that man is capable of reading his mind.
“What about this one?” he asks, desperately, trying to redirect Viktor’s attention to a smaller tree.
“No. It’s crooked.”
Viktor is anything if not persistent. He rejects each tree Jayce suggests. “Oh, but Jayce,” he says.“You're pretty strong. I’m sure carrying home this tree won't be a problem for you.”
Hook. Line. Sinker. Now Jayce only has to figure out how to fit that monster of a tree into the tram without squishing a poor grandma to death. They might have to walk all the way back to their apartment. What a cruel and unusual punishment for being an amazing boyfriend.
There is no prize to perfection, but when it comes to trees, you can put a price tag on it. The price is outrageous, and Jayce almost wants to protest, but Viktor is beaming, self-satisfied, like a cat that got the cream.
“Is it just me or do these trees get bigger each year with you?” Jayce groans as he tries to lift what is now their Christmas tree.
"It's just you.”
☆☆☆
He has pine needles in his hair. His back hurts, and so do his shoulders, but Jayce knows better than to complain. His breaths come out as laboured and stuttering, while Viktor’s whistling a Christmas tune next to him, without a care in the world.
Son of a…at least one of them is having a good time. Usually, Jayce could lose himself in this - a serene walk with the man he loves, the glow of strangers’ windows bright against the purple-blue 4pm dusk.
Too bad he can’t see where he’s walking. In fact, he can see nothing but green and needs Viktor to lead him. Come to think of it, maybe this is all some sort of elaborate trust exercise his boyfriend has come up with.
Still, their walk back home is peaceful as the image of baby Jesus in the manger, until Jayce slips on the wet asphalt and it sends him toppling to the ground.
Viktor’s playfully feigned ignorance disappears immediately. “Do prdele! Are you okay?”
No, Jayce is not okay. He’s sprawled on the cold, hard floor with a behemoth of a tree on top of him.
“Can’t…breathe…”
“Welcome to the club,” Viktor replies. That’s his Viktor, always a dry joke on his lips. Jayce did not think it was possible to be filled with so much love while freezing and/or being crushed to death by a pine tree.
With combined effort they manage to roll the tree off Jayce, and Viktor bites his lip, torn between amusement and concern.
“You’ve…uh, got pine needles there.”
“I’ve got pine needles everywhere.” Jayce pushes himself off the ground with a wince.
Just a few more minutes to their apartment. And then just one flight of stairs. He can do this.
☆☆☆
In another near-deadly attack on his dignity, Jayce manages to almost stab out his eye with one of the branches of the tree while he’s setting it up in their living room.
But now it’s finally standing, dwarfing their IKEA sofa, Viktor’s reading chair, and even that ridiculously large television that they splurged on last year.
It looks like someone dragged the forest into their tiny Prague apartment.
“I still think it’s a little uneven.”
“I will not be attempting to move it again.” At some point, Jayce has to put his foot down. Even when it’s hard for him to deny Viktor anything.
“It’s fine, we should take a break, anyway,” Viktor says with a sheepish grin. “I made hot chocolate.”
The subtle ways Viktor cares for him are sometimes overshadowed by Jayce’s overwhelming desire to care for Viktor first, yet it’s moments like this that remind Jayce of how loved he is. Like all the times he’d gotten sick, when Viktor joked about his ‘man flu’ and told Jayce not to be a baby, but at the same time cooked Jayce’s favorite soup and brought him blankets, making sure he remembered to take his medication.
The things he says and the things he does aren’t always aligned. He’s Jayce’s favourite puzzle.
And he makes the best hot chocolate, a skill that he owes to his ridiculous sweet tooth. Viktor never does anything halfway, not even making sugary drinks - the hot chocolate on the couch table boasts whipped cream, marshmallows and sprinkles. It is, like their tree, truly perfect.
“I’m thinking white and gold ornaments only this year.”
“No red baubles?” Jayce asks, taking a sip from his World’s Okayest Professor cup. He can hear the chorus of ‘Do they know it’s christmas?’ blare from the radio in their kitchen and shudders. What a horrible song, far worse than ‘Last Christmas’ could ever be. “It’s not really Christmas without a little bit of red on that tree.”
“But…”
“I’d like to think I earned the right to veto the decorating decisions, I almost died.”
Viktor rolls his eyes. “So melodramatic,” he says. “I know what almost dying looks like, it’s nothing like this.”
“Red baubles or I’m bringing the tree back.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Not the only hard thing about me.”
He’s glad the only thing close enough for Viktor to throw is the tv remote, which narrowly misses his shoulder lands on their couch with dull thud.
“You’re unbelievable,” Viktor mutters. Jayce knows the truth though, Viktor loves his bad jokes. (Okay, maybe Viktor just loves him and tolerates his jokes - it’s all the same to him.)
His gaze flickers to the boxes of decoration he brought up from the basement this morning. He better put up the decorations he wants now, before Viktor decides it doesn't fit his aesthetic. Jayce empties his hot chocolate with one big gulp, burns the roof of his mouth, and gets work, going through box after box.
“Uh…what are you doing?”
“Looking for the snowman ornament.” It’s not like he doesn’t trust Viktor, but Jayce knows the stuffed animals he buys as decorations are the bane of partner’s existence, and while he’d never throw them away, Viktor’s not above hiding them during Christmas season.
“We don't have a snowman.”
“We do! The one with the hat!”
“No, we don't. Did you hit your head while falling?”
"There it is!” Jayce proudly waves the ornament infront of boyfriend’s face.
“That’s…a penguin,” Viktor deadpans.
“You know what I mean. A penguin is also a kind of snowman.”
“It literally isn’t,” Viktor sighs. Before he can protest further, he seems to have considered that Jayce is still bruised from heroically carrying home their tree.
Though even in his silence, the scowl he’s wearing while observing the penguin with its large, glittery eyes and little knitted hat speaks volumes.
“It’s hideous,” he mutters. “I can’t believe you want to put that on our tree.”
“You’re hurting his feelings.”
“Oh no! However will I live with myself?” Each of Viktor’s words is dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Apology accepted. I’m gonna put him at the very front, so you have to look at him tonight while we watch that old Cinderella movie you like so much.”
“Three Wishes for Cinderella is…”
“Yes, a staple of Czech christmas,” Jayce interrupts with a grin. “So I’ve been told.”
It takes them a while to untangle their fairy lights and to find the right combination of the stylish, simple ornaments Viktor prefers and the kitschy, colorful ones Jayce buys at the Christmas market each year.
Outside it has started to snow, and as mother nature drapes a veil of white over the city and the radio in their kitchen is crackling with static, Jayce can’t help but feel…safe. He’s never been keen on winter, but this he could get used to. Maybe he already has.
It’s hard to imagine winter without Viktor. It’s hard to imagine life without him at all. There's a small box with a simple gold ring hidden in Jayce’s sock drawer that’s proof of that.
Standing back proudly, they observe their work and Jayce tries to catch a glimpse of his partner’s face, looking for approval.
“It’s…perfect,” Viktor says, a small smile playing around his lips.
“A perfect tree for the most perfect man,” Jayce replies. And maybe Viktor is humoring him because he's been so good for him today, but instead of threatening to whack Jayce with his cane again, he leans in for a kiss.
It really is going to be the most perfect Christmas.