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“This is going to be amazing. We’ll have to get my mum to bring the record player-”
“Phil.”
“And they’ll have to bring the ornaments, of course. And we can get stuff to make mince pies, and the little cakes-”
“Phil.”
“Will you be okay with the elves?”
“
Phil
.”
That’s what finally stops him. Usually Dan’s the one who talks over him, but on the phone it’s hard to tell when Dan’s actually trying to say something and when he’s just making noises.
Here, though, he has something to say, and after he gives him a moment it comes out. “I know Christmas is a big deal for your family. And I know you’re excited for it to be in the new house.”
Phil smiles and nods, even though Dan can’t see him on the other end.
“But…bub. Remember it’s not just a Lester Christmas, right? My mum will be there, and my Nan. So maybe we don’t go all out with just
your
family’s traditions?”
His stomach sinks a bit, and he nibbles at his bottom lip. His first Christmas with Dan-real Christmas, that is, not under quarantine-and Dan wants to change it.
“What kind of traditions? You told me once your family’s only tradition is getting into a big fight when someone has too much to drink.”
He means this honestly, but by the silence on the other end he can tell this wasn’t the right choice-it was one of those things Dan could say about his family, but that he couldn’t repeat. The line was blurry sometimes.
“What kind of traditions?” He tries again, softer this time, and closes his eyes to try to picture Dan’s face as he talks.
“I don’t know. Maybe we make some new ones this year.” Mind-Dan looks tired, his lips pressed together and eyebrows furrowed.
But if we make them now, they’re not traditions. They’re just new things, and Christmas isn’t a time for new things…
Phil’s hand gets sweaty holding the phone-it’s his turn to fall silent now. He doesn’t want things to change, certainly not Christmas, which is basically the best day of the year.
“We can still keep some things from your family. Like-bring the ornaments, and your mum can make mince pies, yeah? But…not everything .”
Dan’s not trying to be cruel, Phil knows. And even though it’s hard to accept it, he knows Dan has a point. It wouldn’t be fair for them to just do all of Phil’s stuff. So, after a few moments, he agrees, starting to talk to Dan about where they can find something fun for their niece and presents for everyone and what’ll be cooked for dinner.
When Phil hangs up the phone, he still feels nervous. Changes. New things. On Christmas.
But he knows he can cling to one tradition, the one that might be his absolute favorite, and certainly the most important to him.
New Christmas, it is.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆
His parents arrive in the evening on Christmas Eve, weighed down with bags and suitcases and tins of food to reheat.
After hugs and handshakes and “Wow, the place looks great!”s and “Yes, there’s still the issues with the hot water, even still”, he shows his parents up to their room.
Once the door is closed, and his dad is carefully refolding all of the clothes they brought with them, his mum pulls him aside.
“No Smurfs record, I promise.” She says in a low, conspiratorial voice.
“Right. Because Dan said-”
“Yes, yes, I know. But…I know you said to only bring one, but I couldn't choose…”
She pulls out three of her elf statues, giving Phil a guilty look.
“This one is Christmas Cozy Sweaters, from 1986. One of my oldest. She’s special because the paint coloring they used…”
As his mum discusses each of them, Phil's brain works overtime. Dan said to just bring one. Dan was making a compromise. But his mum brought three, what are they going to do-
“Mum.” He cuts in gently. “Leave two in here, on the dresser, and we can bring one down to put on the mantle. Okay?”
She smiles at him, patting his cheek. “Knew you'd understand, child.”
That night, as they get up the special ornaments on their tree (including the original nutcracker and watercolor bauble that Dan bought them all those years ago), he notices Dan's eyes wandering to the elf a few times, but he doesn't say anything.
Dan's making a few sacrifices, too, he reminds himself. But it's fine. It's still Christmas, even if it's different.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆
The next morning, when his whole family’s downstairs-including his brother, Cornelia, and his niece, which is still odd to think about-Dan slips aside before “Santa” joins them, who basically showers the baby in gifts.
Amidst her squeals and excited babbles, Phil’s dad steps up closer to him. “Santa? On Christmas
Day
?” He asks in a low voice, clearly unsure.
“Dan insisted.” Phil murmurs back, watching as Martyn bounces his baby girl in his lap as “Santa” shakes a little noisemaker for her.
He glances behind him to his father, stone-faced as usual. He gets like this, too, he knows, but it drives him nuts-how is he supposed to know what he’s thinking?
“It’s just not what we’re used to.” His father relents finally, a bit of sadness to his voice. “It’s her first real Christmas, and it doesn’t even feel like a proper one.”
Phil feels his heart sink at that, forcing himself to look away. He doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know whether to agree with him or tell him off for bagging on something he’s really worked hard on.
So, instead, he steps away, a bit closer to the baby. He catches “Santa’s” eyes for a moment, familiar chocolate brown and gleaming with excitement, and returns the smile.
The presents are a reminder that he has one tradition left-one thing that nobody will take away from him today, he’s sure of it. And that’s enough to keep him in the spirit, if nothing else.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆
Dan’s mum and Nan join later in the afternoon.
Their two families had never been…close, to be honest. Between Dan’s family seeing Phil as “just a close friend” for most of their relationship and the fact that they got off on shaky footing (though Phil’s mum swears she really was just curious when she asked if Dan’s mum had planned to have kids so young), they were perfectly happy to see each other for brief periods of time over the years and never really get too close.
The idea of everyone together in the same house has made his palms sweaty for weeks. He knows now he has to play referee a bit, float around and make sure everyone's doing well.
But Dan volunteered himself to play cards with his mum and Phil's dad, and Martyn had managed to sneak away with the excuse of getting the baby down for a nap about thirty minutes ago.
He busies himself with grating carrots for salad, catching little bits of conversation-
“You know, I always thought you were supposed to use butter, not margarine-”
“These cards feel weird. Do you notice that?”
“Well, I don't know. it's kind of the same thing, isn't it?”
“We actually got these cards on a trip…”
“I just always think that real butter helps lead to a thicker sauce.”
Suddenly, the grater handle feels sticky in his hand, and the voices are too loud, and when the vent fan gets turned on he doesn't even bother to excuse himself before stepping out of the room and taking the stairs two at a time.
Once in the bathroom, he sinks to the floor and buries his face in a towel before screaming.
He can't do this.
He's messed everything up. All the traditions suck and it's his fault and everything down there is too loud and it's all different and this whole thing was a big mistake and-
“Phil.” Martyn's voice comes through the door. “I need to pee.”
Phil grits his teeth, pulling away from the soft towel. “Not now, other bathroom-”
“I need to pee.” Martyn tries the door handle, jiggling it a bit. “Come on. I need to-”
He’s not going to stop once he has an idea in his head, so he carries the towel with him as he goes to open the door, running his hands over it slowly. “Okay. Pee.” He relents, stepping out into the hallway.
Martyn bites his lip, his face calmly neutral as always.
“I don't need to pee.”
Phil blinks a few times, noticing the way the corner of his lip twitches up. “Yeah?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at him.
“This has been a great Christmas. But our parents are being a lot. It's why I've been hiding up in here for a bit.”
“Can't blame you-”
“Yeah, well, now it's your turn.” Martyn said. “Take a few minutes. I'll go make sure they behave.”
Phil feels a rush of warmth run through him, and he gives Martyn a smile to let him know it. “Mart…”
But he just waves it aside. “Here. Wanna try something.”
And then suddenly he's reaching around his waist, lifting him up off his toes and crushing him to his chest.
He used to do this all the time when they were kids-when either of them would get too overwhelmed, and would need some sort of deep pressure, something to bring them back to Earth.
Phil squeaks at first but then melts into it, feeling like somebody turned a tap on in his brain and all the extra junk from earlier can just run out.
“Better?” Martyn asks as he lets him go, stretching out his arms.
“Better.” He laughs breathlessly, and Martyn nods, stepping into the bathroom.
“You pressed on my bladder. Turns out I do need to pee. See you in a bit.”
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆
Phil rejoins the group about fifteen minutes later, just in time to help put out the finishing touches on dishes and set the table.
As everyone sits down to eat, conversation is stilted. It's clear that Martyn pulled his parents aside and told them to be a bit nicer, because they're sat close together and his mum is looking a bit like a puppy that got told off.
Cornelia and Martyn busy themselves with the baby, and Dan’s nan and mum are talking quietly. Phil’s brain is quickly trying to find any conversation starter that could work, but it’s coming up empty, and he finds himself just wanting the whole meal to be over with.
The quiet just makes the playlist in the background more obvious. When Dan had insisted that they didn’t play the Smurfs Christmas album, Phil had found a way to link everyone’s streaming accounts into one playlist mixing up their song choices.
As the opening chords to a new song start up, Cornelia looks up and grins. “Oh, this must have been from my account, I love this song!”
If you wake up and don't want to smile,
She starts to hum along happily, clearly trying to fill the empty space, and Dan's mum chuckles.
“Really? I thought it must be from mine. I listen to this every morning.”
If it takes just a little while.
His own mum gasps a bit, smacking her husband's arm excitedly. “Ni! We used to listen to this all the time in Unit, remember?”
Open your eyes and look at the day,
“I've got you all beat. Heard them play this song live once, you know.” Dan's nan adds in, grinning as she takes a bite of salad.
You'll see things in a different way-
“Don't, stop, thinking about tomorrow-” Phil starts to sing, beaming widely as he looks around the table.
“Don't, stop, it'll soon be here, “ Martyn grins over at him, and then everyone's joining in.
“It'll be better than before, yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone!”
His dad does a little air guitar thing and Cornelia begins snort-laughing, the rest of them mucking through the words a bit but still laughing through it.
When it finally winds down, everyone digs in, and he grins as he hears his mum turn to Dan's. “You know, I actually think I will use margarine next time. This is really lovely.”
“You're good at cards.” His dad says to Dan's nan, nodding in approval as she starts talking strategy.
Phil looks around the table as the chatter continues, letting out a satisfied breath. Everyone looks happy-even the little one, shoving potatoes into her mouth messily.
It might not be the perfect Christmas, or a traditional one by any means, but he did it.
After a few minutes of basking in his pride, he feels Dan tap his shoulder, whispering to him-
“Is it bad I have no idea what that song was?”
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆
The rest of the night is a whirlwind of desserts and games and laughing and a lot more Fleetwood Mac, but finally Phil can feel his eyelids drooping, and Dan's nan is snoring on the couch, so they all relent and head back to their rooms.
It's time for his favorite tradition. That alone gets him excited enough to keep awake for a bit longer.
“I have one more gift for you.” He says to Dan as they close the door behind them. “Sit on the bed.”
Dan does, eyebrows raised a bit as Phil digs around in one of their drawers before coming out with a shoebox. “Open.”
He sits next to him and watches as Dan open it, leg jiggling up and down with anticipation.
The scrapbook comes out- We’re NOT Doomed , written in big orange letters at the top. As he flips through it, pictures, trinkets, little print-outs ruffle against the pages from the overhead fan.
“It's got every place you've toured so far.” Phil explains, tapping a spot. “And there's one memory of us there, and one from your show-a restaurant you really liked, or something you mentioned someone said to you, or a picture you took. And here-” He flips towards the back. “You can add more for next year's shows, yourself.”
Dan stares down at it, moving through the pages slowly, and Phil finds himself holding his breath.
“I love it.” He says finally, voice breaking and eyes wet as he looks up at him. “I…I love you. This is…”
Phil bites his lip and grins, silently willing him to say the words.
“You always get me my favorite gift, every single year.”
At those words, Phil starts bouncing his leg faster, his smile so wide his cheek hurts.
That was his favorite tradition. Getting Dan speechless over a gift, hearing him admit it was the best one he got. His absolute favorite part of Christmas for over a decade now.
“I love you, bub.” He says again, hugging Phil tightly, and Phil hugs back with a laugh.
“Good Christmas, then?”
“Great Christmas, Phil.”