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A festive day long turned to night. A chill in the air now settling like a blanket, beginning to form ice on the outside ground. Ice and frost that creeps up to a small cabin in the hills, otherwise hidden by forest. Only a faint flickering light dancing along the window panes indicated any life inside.
A fire crackled with its dying embers closest to Patrick's side. He was sat on short couch, leaning on its arm as another figure laid across the rest of the couches length with their head on the edge of his lap. Long blond hair obscured their face, but their chest rose and fell in a slow and even pattern. Patrick had a hand on their back, humming softly as his thumb moved in small circles.
The night before Christmas. Patrick was in a place he never thought he would be. A private space scarcely decorated for the holiday. A "writing retreat" that has come to soft humming on the couch as his writing parter let sugar plumps dance in his head...Or whatever it was Pete dreamed about...
The fire cracks kept Patrick from falling asleep himself.
The crackles.
The faint tick tick of the clock behind where they rested. The guitar sat on the faint light reflections on coffee table in front of them.
Patrick kept finding things to focus on. Just to stay awake. Just to savor the moment. Christmas eve with someone he had shared so much of his life with. Tomorrow they would be back in the real world, splitting for the holiday. Tonight, however, it was them in this cabin.
Patrick slowly pulled his hand away from Pete's back while simultaneously leaning forward. He grabbed the neck of the guitar before just as slowly pulling it back with him and settling back into his original position. Pete thankfully didn't seem to notice.
A soft breath escaped Patrick. He had played while Pete had slept plenty of times. This shouldn't be any different, yet his fingers trembled as they moved to the strings. It wasn't a song he knew well, but it was one his brain had locked in on.
"Last Christmas..." The words escaped him before he began the rhythm. The guitar felt so loud in the empty space so late at night. He suddenly realized he wasn't even sure what time it was. "I gave you my heart...but the very next day, you have it away..."
He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the music. His fingers tripped up a few times, but it wasn't too noticeable. "This year, to save me from tears..." He shut his eyes a bit tighter. "I'll give it to someone special..." His voice cracked on the last line. He pressed his lips together, stopping the words but letting his fingers continue to pull the strings. The guitar continued to echo, feeling so loud. It only seemed to get louder.
Patrick kept his eyes tightly shut, trying to focus on the guitar. Trying to ignore how loud it felt. Trying to just focus.
A cold touch found his face, making his eyes snap open. It was still dim. The fire was closer to death now. The outside cold felt closer.
"Hey."
Patrick turned his head towards the touch, meeting Pete's eyes.
Pete looked tired, but smiled. "Hey, Patrick."
Patrick mumbled an apology adjusting his guitar and moving it to lean against the couches side. His face slipped away from Pete's hand with the movement. When he turned back to Pete, Pete put his hand right back where it was.
"You okay?" Pete asked softly.
Patrick nodded before leaning a bit into Pete's hand. "You were supposed to be asleep."
"Who could sleep through a voice like yours?" Pete smiled. He scooted closer to Patrick, sliding his hand down from Patrick's cheek to Patrick's chest. "Last Christmas?"
Patrick sighed. "Just...thinking."
Pete pressed softly against Patrick's chest. "You know it's past midnight." He leaned his head closer. "It's really this Christmas now."
"Oh...Merry Christmas." Patrick brought his hand up over Pete's. "Sorry I woke you up so early with no presents ready."
Pete pressed a soft kiss against Patrick's cheek. "Merry Christmas. I could care less about presents." He pressed another kiss to Patrick's other cheek. "I'm just glad to be with someone special."
Before Pete could make the move, Patrick connected their lips. Pete moved closer, winding up in Patrick's lap as their lips continued to move. Patrick pulled his body close. The chill of the night didn't feel like an issue anymore, even with the dying fire. This was the only thing to focus on.
By the time morning crept through the window panes, both men were asleep on the couch. Pete on top of Patrick, but both under a throw blanket that only half covered them.
Patrick cracked his eyes open first, but made no attempt to escape the predicament. He just smiled and shut his eyes again. This Christmas would take them to the real world soon but, for now, it was perfect.