Work Text:
Sunlight crept through the small break in the frost-covered windows, leaking across the room and sliding across Kris’ half-opened eyes. Bojan was curled up within his arms – mouth open, hair sticking up in all directions, head craned awkwardly to fit snug in the crook of Kris’ neck. How he didn't wake up in severe pain each and every morning dumbfounded him.
Awkward sleeping positions aside, Kris quickly realised that it was Christmas Day.
But not any ordinary Christmas day – the first one that he, no, the both of them would experience as a couple.
Usually, for most couples, spending their first Christmas together would be incredible. it would be full of happiness. Laughter. Cosiness. Joy. All sorts of tooth-rotting fluff.
Yet right now? For Kris? He felt as if he could only hope that would be the case for them, too.
Their first Christmas just so happened to fall on the alternate year that his family packed up their car and drove just over a thousand kilometres to his mother’s side of the family in the Netherlands. There had been discussions of him not coming up, but the joys of being a multi-national household meant that, if he didn't come, then he wouldn't be seeing his Dutch family (on Christmas, at least) for another two years.
So that conversation finished quickly.
Despite both his parents had told him more times than he could count that it was okay if he didn't want to come; that he shouldn't feel forced into coming down with Bojan and outing himself to his extended family all at once on a day that was supposed to be stress and anxiety-free, he knew his answer already - he was coming. He was packing up his car nd driving across the continent. With Bojan. And coming out to them. He wanted to experience the Christmas holidays with his lover. He wanted to invite him round to his grandparents house, just like he would do with a girl, and cuddle up close to him and watch cheesy Christmas films whilst being surrounded by his family.
If every other familial couple could do it, why couldn't he?
One half of his brain was utterly terrified by the sheer prospect of it all. Coming out. Reactions. Consequences. The possibility of being barred from the home for years to come.
Yet the other half of his brain was somewhat relieved that the introduction would be done and out of the way by the end of the day. If people were going to be immensely homophobic then he could just wipe their comments from memory and never interact with them in any capacity for the rest of time.
“Hey.” Kris was snapped out of his spiral of down-trodden thoughts by the sound of Bojan’s tired voice.
His stomach flipped as he glanced down at his lover. Through the messy locks of hair, the sight of his chocolatey, doe-like eyes was more than enough to get Kris to calm down.
Well, calm down slightly.
As Bojan shifted his position so that he was mere inches away from Kris' face, the younger of the two couldn't help but wonder how he managed to swallow down and ignore his feelings for the boy for the past five years still stunned him. I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with a face like that?
“How long have you been up?”
“A couple minutes. Not long, really." Kris reached up and ran his hands through Bojan's mess of hair. Oh, how badly he wanted to just grab fistfuls of it, drag his face closer to his and smash their lips together. Every single thing about Bojan drove him crazy. The good type of crazy, that was. But alas he refrained.
Primarily because he had a fear of one of his family members bursting through the unlocked door at any given second, and the last thing he wanted was to traumatise them with such a sight.
“Holy fuck.” Bojan pressed his hand against Kris’ chest, eyes widening as he felt his pounding heart through his thin sleep shirt. “Babe. Your heart is racing…Are you really that nervous about today?”
“I'm calming down." Kris shrugged in response as he turned his attention back at the situation on hand. "They don’t know I’m bisexual. Let alone dating a guy. You. I’m…” As he spoke further, his throat stiffened and his mouth went dry. “Just worried.”
For the first time in a long time, Bojan didn’t respond right away.
The reality of the situation at hand had silenced any quick-witted come back. Both of them had spoken about this day for months now. Ever since Kris made the confirmation with his parents that he and Bojan would be travelling down to the Netherlands with them and all his siblings, there’d been an air of nervousness constantly looming over him. From time to time the cloud of negativity dissipated and the Kris everyone knew shone through, but pretty soon it would come right back – disrupting everything once more.
Bojan watched as Kris slunk down even further into the mattress. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the thoughts racing through his brain.
“If they react poorly then it’s not the complete end of the world. You only see them a few times a year, if that.” Bojan slid his hands up Kris' chest and cupped his face as he spoke. “Besides. Found family is often better than blood. I love you; the guys love you, and that’s all that really matters.”
For Kris, the sensation of his warm hands against his cold cheeks had slowed down his pulse considerably.
Logically, he knew that Bojan’s words rang true.
Muffed noises from his family members downstairs reverberated around the silent guest room. Despite knowing that the should’ve really started to make their way downstairs, Kris pulled Bojan closer into his form – continuing to stay silent. It was insanely comfortable, after all. Every single curve seemed to slot perfectly together, the top of the Bojan’s head was at the perfect height for Kris to press constant kisses on, and both their body temperatures complimented one another; neither one was too hot nor too cold.
Kris quickly found himself combing through Bojan’s hair again. Only this time zoning in on twirling the grey streak around his index finger. As cliché as it sounded, the grey streak had been the first thing he noticed when he became friends with the brunette just under ten years ago. Only difference being that it was more of a dirty-blond colour back then.
His fathers song, 'led s severa’ to be specific, was easily identifiable in despite of the horrendous distortion that had warped every over chord. As he slugged over the yellow and burgundy tiled flooring, turned around a corner, and turned around *another* corner, he quickly came to the realisation that the sound was actually coming from the next floor above.
So, low and behold, he pushed himself up an extremely narrow staircase and quickly noticed that the tiled flooring shifted into overly-polished light-brown floorboards alongside the sound of music having grown even louder. Before he knew it, he was walking on the top lofted floor of 'Gimnazija Poljane', one of the biggest, if not *the* biggest school in the city.
He could feel the resentment levels rise further up his body, almost drowning him completely as he stepped through the open door situated at the end of the hallway. The room wasn't specifically a music room. It looked more like an assembly hall; semi-comfortable rows of benches adorned with red cushions took up most of the space, ascending in a slight upwards gradient, with a small stage standing at the far end of it. And upon said stage were two students. Two students playing, no, *ruining* his fathers song.
Oh, and doing so at a vo lume that was certainly unhealthy for human ears.
“That song doesn’t have distortion.” Kris yelled over the noise as he crossed his arms over his chest and dramatically rolled his eyes. Truthfully, he wasn't as angry or annoyed as he made himself out to be. He just wanted to finish his 'reporting' assignment 'on culture of local schools in the city centre' and be done with his English class for the term.
“And how do you know that, huh?”
But *of course* that wasn't going to be a quick feat.
'Stuff like this never is!' He thought to himself.
As if the two students could hear his inner monologue, the instruments screeched to a halt as the shorter of the two turned to face him.
And just like that...every emotion coursing through his body flipped.
Kris’ heart began to race.
His throat felt oddly tight.
He dropped his arms to his side and pushed his gaze towards the floor as a feeling he could only describe as ‘uncomfortably strange’ began bubbling up inside of him.
“Are…you okay?”
Kris forced himself to glance upwards.
Much to his…horror?
Shock?
Surprise?
Whatever he was feeling, as he glanced upwards again, he saw that the boy had approached him; and all his features were crystal clear. He had deep, chocolatey brown eyes with colour-matched locks, a singular blond strand standing out amongst the sea of warmth.
Despite the increasing urge to just sprint out the hall and never look back, he inhaled sharply as he begun closing the gap ever so slightly.
As the boy smiled, the dimples upon his cheeks instantly made Kris’ throat close up.
‘What the fuck is going on?’
“I’m fine. It’s just this song…The song. Led s severa. It doesn’t have d-distortion. My father wrote it.”
“Oh! You’re Gušti’s kid?” The shorter boy’s eyes widened as his hands nervously bawled up. “Martin. He’s Gušti’s kid. You must be…Kris? You’re his eldest, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am-”
“Well I’m Bojan!” ‘Bojan’, as he now knew him, immediately went to grab his hand and shake it, the smile upon his face growing wider as he did so. “And that’s Martin.”
He quietly chuckled to himself as he remembered the events of that day. After speaking with Bojan (plus Martin) and managing to get his mobile number, he feigned a headache an went straight home to contemplate everything that had occurred.
For as long as he could remember, he’d always felt strange and borderline uncomfortable around attractive men, but that very moment had been the fundamental ‘head-over-heels’ sensation for another human being.
And that didn’t come without downsides.
There’d been countless nights crying his eyes out, chock-full or panic and fright over his sexuality, absolutely and utterly petrified of coming out.
Yet when he did…
Everything was fine.
More than fine, actually.
His parents simple shrugged and went on with their day, as if Kris had simply told them it was meant to rain later on.
All that panic, for absolutely nothing.
Although his brain had started to draw comparisons between then and the panic he felt right now, the process of introspection was cut short as his mother walked into the room.
“Morning, boys.”
In her hands she held a tray laid with breakfast upon it; four slices of gingerbread-and-cinnamon flavoured French toast, two cups of water, one latte (for Kris) and one hot chocolate (for Bojan).
The beautifully sweet smell exploded softly around the room as he adjusted himself to a more upright position. Memories started popping up in his mind of the many Christmas mornings of his childhood, each and every one featured a fancy breakfast just like this one. As a kid, he would also get chocolate coins for breakfast, but as an adult that was something that was, unfortunately, phased out.
“I figured you two weren’t coming down, and the last thing I wanted was for it to go cold.”
“Thanks, Ma. We’ll come down in a bit…" Kris' voice wavered as he spoke. "It’s just…”
“I know you’re nervous.” She responded immediately. “I can’t see to the future and tell you their response, but I can tell you one thing…” There was some hesitation to her voice as she sat down on the very end of the bed, pushing her hands through her dyed-platinum hair with tension and stress. “If they react negatively, we’re never seeing them again. Alright?”
“But they’re your fam-”
“Kris. No. I don’t give a single shit. You’re my child. If they say anything, and I mean anything, out of pocket, rude, or outright homophobic, then I’m cutting them off.”
‘Shit.’
Kris had very rarely seen his mother get this angry and upset.
Very fucking rarely.
The simple act of her swearing only made the situation at hand feel so much more real.
And he didn't know if that made him feel better or worse.
Kris’ heart hadn’t raced this fast since he’d come out at the tender age of fourteen. To say he was nervous over the introduction of Bojan as his boyfriend was the understatement of the century.
He sat perched on the end of the burgundy, faux-velvety sofa. Both hands were wrapped white-knuckled around a mug of untouched tea, eyes laser focused on the brown liquid. Next to him sat Bojan – smiling and relaxed as could be, deep in conversation with Kris’ Oma.
His grandparents already knew. They'd found out the summer after he'd come out. He didn't even envision coming out to them until much later yet, when they'd asked his mother if 'little Krisy had a girlfriend', she outright told them the truth.
They were accepting. Luckily.
Yet he couldn't see into the future to tell if that would ripple out to the rest of his extended family.
“So, uhm…” Words stuck to the walls of his throat as shaky legs pushed him upwards. His vision went blurry and his mouth went dry as he desperately tried to spit the words from his brain out into the open. “This is Bojan. We’ve known each other for quite some time, and I’m sure you’re all more than aware that he’s in the band.” After clumsily latching on to each of his extended family members eyes, he pushed his gaze down and to his side – looking directly at Bojan. He was shockingly relaxed despite the situation; he was sat back, looking up at Kris, the same old cheeky smile lighting up his face. “Recently…Bojan and, uh…I…”
‘Fuck.’
‘Why was this so fucking difficult?’
‘Just spit it out already!’
“Kris and I are boyfriends.” Bojan’s words dragged him out from the depths of his inner critical self-monologue.
He snapped his eyes open, not even realising that they were shut, and made contact with Bojan's.
In the time where Kris had paused his speech, Bojan had risen up to stand next to him. Both their hands clasped together. Smile still unwavering on the Bosnian's face. Yet a sly quivering hand, showcasing his true inner emotions, reached up and ran its finger through his hair, the grey streak that drove Kris crazy flopping over his forehead and just about touching his eyebrow.
“We’ve been together for a few months now and…"
"We're both very happy." Kris finalised the sentence for him.
Immediately?
Silence.
Deafening silence.
Kris shifted in place uncomfortably. Ear ringing. Chest tightening. The urge to sprint out the room growing with each passing second.
Eventually however, the voice of one of his many cousins cut through the static.
“I called it.” She said as she sat back and smirked.
"No! You said that they'd come out during dinner, not after breakfas-" His other cousin instantly shouted back, only getting cut off by Kris' uncle.
"Girls, girls, no arguing-"
Kris was quite taken aback.
There was an argument, but it was a...positive one? A jokey one?
He didn't know what to quite make of it initially.
Yet...
It was a good coming out.
The reaction was good.
“Told you it’ll be fine.” Bojan whispered into his ear as he inched up on his tip-toes, pressing a soft kiss into his cheek.
And finally, after the weeks of stress that had been building up to this, he felt truly relaxed.