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What's Wrong With A Little Overkill?
His husband was up to something.
Tracey didn’t know why he was surprised: he’d known Gary since the younger man was twelve, after all. If he couldn’t tell when he was up to something then he simply wasn’t paying enough attention. Considering he’d been paying attention to Gary’s every move – a necessity, given how many holiday surprises were hidden around their house – it was difficult for him to miss the sneaking past the room or the extra glances his husband shot over his shoulder.
He watched from the corner of his eye as Gary silently slipped in and out of the kitchen once more and exchanged a glance with Marill. The water mouse looked nearly as amused as Tracey felt.
Gary was very much up to something and he was trying to keep him from noticing. Tracey was honestly impressed – if it was anyone other than him, Gary would have certainly been succeeding. He had just happened to marry someone who specialized in observation.
No matter. It was Christmas Eve and whatever Gary was up to would certainly become apparent soon enough. Tracey had other things to focus on, especially now that the timer for the oven was going off again – a sound he had become quite familiar with this December.
He turned off the timer and opened the oven, only to be greeted by the sweet, rich smell of baked chocolate. It was astounding that Gary didn’t reappear in the kitchen just then, lured in by the smell of chocolate as he so often was. He really must have been busy with whatever he was working on.
Again, no matter.
Tracey pulled the sheet of cookies from the oven and set it atop the stove to rest for a moment. They looked as delectable as they smelled.
Perhaps this was overkill. They didn’t exactly need five types of cookies and peppermint brownies and spiked hot chocolate, just like they didn’t need garlands and lights and decorations in every room of the house, but it was their first Christmas as a married couple and their first Christmas in their own place. There were indulgences to be had. When else would it be this appropriate to go overboard for a holiday? Gary may have given him one amused smirk after another, but he didn’t seem to mind, in any case. And Tracey certainly hadn’t bought all of those presents under the tree.
Besides, half of the sweets were Gary’s idea – he was the chocolate fiend after all. He was also the one that had turned regular hot chocolate into spiked hot chocolate… of four different varieties over the last two days alone. He was just as guilty with the overkill but Tracey had to admire his creativity when it came to alcohol.
Overkill or not, the first Christmas in this chapter of their lives was going to be perfect. It wasn’t like either of them ever had the biggest holiday celebrations growing up. Until Tracey had come along, the only family Gary had was the professor and Delia Ketchum (and sometimes Ash) and, while Delia certainly brought her own plethora of baked treats and gifts, it had always been quiet. Tracey’s family wasn’t as small as Gary’s, but Christmas in the tropics was very different from Christmas in Pallet.
Snow and garlands and hot chocolate weren’t exactly going to happen in the Orange Islands. Decorated palm trees, key lime pie, and tropical fruit, sure, but that wasn’t really Christmas, and Tracey was determined to give them as proper a Christmas as they could possibly have.
The weather could have been a little more cooperative. There would be no white Christmas this year – unless some ice-type legendary pokemon got involved. But Ash wasn’t in town so that seemed unlikely.
That was fine, Tracey could compromise on that. The dreary, overcast sky and blustery chill was perfect weather for fireside cuddles anyway, and that was good enough. The steady and gentle patter of rain on the roof with the occasional rumble of thunder was calming. Paired with the relatively mellow music Gary had been playing quietly (another sure sign that he was up to something) in the living room, it all set a relaxing atmosphere.
He pulled the nearest clean mixing bowl closer to him and set about measuring out ingredients for the next batch. Marill helped by passing him the correct measuring cups and spoons for each ingredient and waited patiently for her turn to turn on the mixer. By the time the dough was mixed the cookies on the sheet he had just taken out of the oven were ready to be moved to the cooling rack. He placed the bowl of dough in the fridge to stay for a moment and took his time carefully removing each cookie and setting it delicately on the wire rack.
As he did so, something caught his eye and he paused, gaze lingering on the plate of sugar cookies that had chunks of candy cane mixed into the batter. Was it just him, or were there fewer cookies on the plate than there had been earlier? He hadn’t been snacking that much, had he?
No, he had to be imagining it. He’d only had one of those candy cane cookies since they had come out of the oven. They were certainly tasty enough to have been grazing on them all morning, but Tracey had determinedly avoided doing exactly that. His husband on the other hand…
Tracey shook his head, rolling his eyes fondly as Gary attempted to sneak past him for what must have been the fifth time today. He waited until Gary was very nearly past him before reaching behind him to snag Gary’s wrist, delighting in the surprised squeak that managed to startle out of him. Laughing, he pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“What’re you up to?”
“Nothing,” Gary replied innocently – not that Tracey was buying that.
“Mmhmm,” Tracey hummed, making no effort to hide how little he believed that. He wrapped his arm about Gary’s waist, holding him firmly in place as he dipped his head to place another kiss on his cheek. “Then why do you keep sneaking around in here today?”
“To steal chocolate?”
Tracey snorted at the question and gently pushed him away. “You’re a terrible liar,” he teased. He knew better than to believe that: Gary didn’t sneak when it came to chocolate, least of all around Tracey.
“Then it’s a good thing I decided to become a scientist and not a lawyer.” Gary retorted, flashing him a grin and reaching across him to snag one of the cookies he had just moved to the cooling rack. Double chocolate chip with nutella swirled in – again, overkill, but they looked and smelled absolutely delicious. “I wasn’t lying,” he continued. “You can trust me, y'know.” He bit into the cookie and immediately any credibility he had went out the window when his eyes fluttered shut with a delighted moan.
Tracey shook his head, snickering. “Maybe I should hide those when your grandfather comes over tomorrow,” he mused. “We don't need him hearing you like that.” He flashed Gary a grin when the other man rolled his eyes.
Fortunately Gary opted to let the comment go. “Think these would go well with the hot chocolate?”
They would, but… “I think that much chocolate at once is probably a little overkill, don’t you?” Not to mention how much alcohol was in it – in hindsight, letting Gary be in charge of that had probably not been the best idea. They would be absolutely hammered by the end of the night if they didn’t pace themselves.
While that would certainly make their Christmas Eve fun, it had the potential to ruin their Christmas morning and that just wouldn’t do.
Gary gave a peculiar little smile – he was aiming for innocent but it came off closer to a smirk. He couldn't pull off an innocent smile to save his life, but that failed attempt at one was always Tracey’s favorite smile to see. “What’s wrong with a little overkill?” he asked, the tease coloring his voice with mischief.
He couldn’t sound innocent to save his life either.
Tracey absolutely adored him. He absolutely did not trust him alone around all the chocolate in the kitchen (it would be gone in no time), but he still loved his chocoholic husband despite that. That was okay though, because Gary snagged another cookie and headed right back to the living room with a bright smile, mischief alight in his eyes.
Definitely up to something.
Whatever it was, it would become obvious soon enough. Gary could only keep something a secret for so long. Tracey still wasn’t worried and instead turned his attention to the pan he had just cleared the cookies off of. He took a moment to quickly wash and dry it before retrieving the dough from the fridge. Marill passed him the spoon he had been using to measure out dough and he took it with a grateful smile and patted her on the head before setting about spacing out spoonfuls of cookie dough on the sheet.
The pan went in the oven and another timer was set. With some time to spare, Tracey and Marill took the few moments they had to start cleaning up. There was flour and sugar spilled across the counter in several spots and Tracey swept it all into the sink while Marill, his ever faithful helper, did her best to wipe the counter down with a damp sponge. It was far from perfect, but it was certainly better than it had been.
As he was starting to put away the remaining ingredients, a hand reached from behind him and Tracey automatically batted it away. “Don’t you have anything better to be doing than keep stealing cookies?” He hadn’t even noticed Gary enter the kitchen this time.
Gary’s hand settled on Tracey’s waist and a kiss was pressed to his neck. “You?” he suggested.
The distraction almost worked but Tracey caught his other hand before Gary could take anything from the plates on the counter. “Stop stealing the cookies, Gary.” He was starting to think his husband was just doing this for the attention – he and Marill had been busy in the kitchen pretty much since they had gotten out of bed, leaving Gary to entertain himself. That usually wasn’t a problem, considering all of the projects the researcher busied himself with. He was always helping with a half dozen research projects and there was always a field project coming up to plan and prepare for.
The mild scold was met with a sigh as Gary rested his head against his shoulder. “Fine,” he reluctantly agreed.
“I’m almost done,” Tracey promised him.
“You said that an hour and a half ago.” There was a definite pout to his voice and Tracey felt a twinge of guilt upon hearing it.
Had it already been that long? He definitely needed to wrap up in that case – he hadn’t meant to take that long. He glanced at the timer on the oven: only a few more minutes before this bath would be done. “I’m close,” he assured him, looking back at his husband.
Gary raised his eyebrows at the phrasing but didn’t comment on it, instead pressing another kiss to Tracey's neck before he pulled away. Tracey returned his attention to straightening up as Gary’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway and into the living room. The dirty mixing bowls and measuring cups and spoons were loaded into the dishwasher and Tracey arranged the plates of cookies in the center of the table – hopefully they were far enough out of Arcanine’s reach to not create a problem.
The timer went off and Tracey quickly returned to the oven to check on the final batch of cookies – regular chocolate chip this time, Delia’s recipe. They were perfectly golden and smelled absolutely divine. He pulled the pan from the oven and set it atop the stove to give the cookies a chance to rest before moving them, and immediately went back to cleaning up. He put all the final ingredients back in their proper place in the cupboards and gave the counters one more quick wipe down before returning his attention to the final batch of cookies.
Focused as he was on moving them from the pan to the cooling rack, he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps or notice Marill’s wave in greeting until a voice made him look up.
“Trace.”
Gary didn’t sound irritated or impatient, but his voice was pointed as he leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed over chest. He was apparently done trying to sneak around and, evidently, Tracey had forgotten about something. Was there something he was supposed to have been paying attention to?
He frowned, wracking his brains for what could have his husband looking at him so expectantly. “What?” he asked, thoroughly confused. It had only been a few minutes since Gary had last left the room and that tone was Gary’s reminder tone.
Gary looked pointedly out the kitchen window and Tracey followed his gaze. The sky was grey, clouds obscuring the sun. The raindrops still pitter-pattered along the roof, the occasional drop striking the window with a tiny ping. A flicker of lightning flashed in the distance, the low rumble of thunder following a moment later. It had been raining all day, nothing had changed. It was still just as peaceful as it had been all day.
Still confused, Tracey looked back at Gary. “What?” he repeated.
“It’s raining,” Gary replied as though it was obvious.
That gave him remarkably little to work with. “And?” Tracey asked, starting to feel the edges of concern creeping in. What had he forgotten?
Gary gave him what must have been the most deadpan stare he had ever seen from the other man. “And?” he echoed.
Tracey stared at him for a moment, still unsure of where this was going. What about the rain? Why was that so important right now, and what did that have to do with Gary sneaking in and out of the kitchen all morning?
“I don't know, Gary,” he admitted. “What am I missing here?”
This time Gary actually looked a little worried. “Isn’t there something we do when it rains?” he pressed.
Oh. Right.
He had been so focused on making their holiday perfect that he had entirely forgotten about their rainy day tradition.
“Oh!” Tracey looked back at the stove and the cookies piled upon the cooling rack and in containers, a bit sheepish and definitely feeling a bit foolish. “I forgot…” he admitted. No wonder Gary kept coming in and out of the kitchen all day.
Gary’s smile turned amused. “I figured,” he replied easily. “Well, are you finished for now or do you still have more to do?”
He must have been keeping tabs on what Tracey had been up to all morning, because this was the first time in hours that he hadn’t had a bowl of dough to work with or a pan in the oven. Tracey had wanted to decorate some one of the batches of cookies, but they still needed to cool and he hadn’t mixed up the frosting for that yet. It was the first stopping point he had come to.
Tracey shook his head and brushed some flour off of his shirt. “We’ll need to decorate one of the batches later, but I’m done for now.”
“Good, because I have something for you.”
Of course. “I knew you were up to something.”
“Aren’t I always?”
There was that signature smirk. Tracey shook his head again, this time with a fond smile, and followed him into the living room.
The room looked rather different from how Tracey had left it this morning – it was a bit tidier for starters. The books that had been scattered across the various surfaces had been returned to their proper homes. The laptop, notebook, and maps Gary had been working with in preparation for his next trip in the field (Tracey tried hard not to think too much about that) had been put away in their respective spots.
Tracey had been so focused in the kitchen that he hadn’t even noticed the crackling of the fire in the fireplace, nor had he noticed that his favorite album was the one playing softly on the record player. He had also somehow missed the sounds of Gary rearranging the furniture: the couch had been moved as close to the fireplace as was safely possible, the coffee table had been moved next to it, and the side tables and the cozy armchair (complete with a dozing Umbreon curled atop the seat) had been all been moved off to the side to make room. A pile of soft blankets sat atop the couch, just waiting for their usual rainy day snuggle fest.
Gary had even managed to fix the string lights that were strung up with the garland across the large window overlooking the yard. They had been flickering so much that they'd had to be unplugged after only a day of being hung because they were giving Gary a migraine. But now they were alit with the gentle green glow that Tracey had been aiming for in the first place.
The coffee table was covered in a spread that was, frankly, surprising. How had Gary managed to sneak so much food out of the kitchen without him noticing? He’d thought he had been imagining it when it seemed there were fewer cookies on the platters in the kitchen, but it seemed Gary had been sneaking them into the living room the whole time.
Either Tracey was losing his touch or – far more likely – Gary was getting better at sneaking around him. Tracey couldn’t do anything other than laugh in disbelief. “So that’s why you’ve been sneaking around the kitchen all morning.”
“Told you I was just in there to steal chocolate.”
“Always you and the chocolate,” Tracey sighed, shaking his head. He flashed Gary a teasing smile and was met with an eye roll, though Gary’s own smile belied him. “I’m not sure who’s worse, you or Ash,” he added, his smile turning teasing.
Gary shook his head and took a calm sip of his drink. “It’s not working,” he replied airily.
“I’m gonna manage to get under your skin one of these days.”
The only response he got to that was a laugh. Fair enough. It had been a sort of ongoing joke for years now, with Tracey attempting to get under Gary’s skin the same way Gary did to everyone else, all to no avail. It was all in good fun anyway.
Gary plopped down on the couch and patted the spot next to him, eyes soft despite the lazy half-smirk of a smile playing across his lips. Tracey shook his head fondly for what must have been at least the twentieth time today.
Despite being such a smartass and intentional pain in the ass, Gary could be an absolute sweetheart. When he wanted to be. Which was exactly why Tracey loved to reward these moments of sweetness with ones of his own. It was returning the sweetness as much as it was positive reinforcement.
Grinning as he made his way further into the room, Tracey paused beside the bookshelf and reached behind a stack of field guides to retrieve the box he had hidden there a few days earlier. He was a bit surprised that they were still there, given how many times Gary had retrieved books from that very same stack this week. He couldn’t quite fight back the chuckle that came up when Gary peered at him curiously – that particular frown paired with the head tilt was absolutely adorable.
Tracey stopped behind the couch and passed it over, his grin softening into a loving smile. It was more chocolate, of course, and not just any chocolate - Gary’s absolute favorite, filled with creamy coconut and imported from the Orange Islands.
Gary took the box with a bemused smile and laughed when he saw what it was. “Is this the only hidden box of chocolates?” he asked, his smile quickly morphing into a grin.
Tracey leaned down to place a kiss to his cheek. “Not even close,” he replied before coming around the side of the couch to join him.
There were a few more around the first floor, all hidden here and there in random spots where he could pull them out randomly to surprise Gary throughout the day today and tomorrow. Gary didn’t need to know just how many there were – just as he didn’t need to know about the fancy box hidden in their bedroom, along with a nice bottle of wine and some nice massage oil. Those were a special surprise for whenever the mood happened to strike.
Again, overkill. Again, no matter.
Gary’s smile turned soft and his cheeks were suddenly pink in a way that Tracey was certain had nothing to do with the hot chocolate he had been sipping on most of the day. There was a rare sort of shyness in the way he avoided Tracey’s eyes, a vulnerable sort of gratitude that only came about with sweet displays of affection. Tracey was surprised to see it now with something so small and silly, but he supposed Gary had never had these random surprises just for the sake of surprise affection from any of the guys he had been with in the past. It was new even for them, but if it meant seeing that rare blush and smile then Tracey was certainly going to turn it into a frequent thing.
Every holiday for sure, and especially Gary’s birthday. Hell, his own birthday too - seeing that face would be a birthday present to himself every time he saw it. And the laughter and playful teasing that would follow would be as well. Who cared if that was overkill? He didn’t, and Gary certainly wouldn’t (especially if it involved chocolate).
A bit amused and hopelessly in love, Tracey took the seat next to Gary and slipped an arm about his shoulders. He pressed another quick kiss to his cheek and reached for the steaming venonat-shaped mug on the coffee table. As he raised it to his mouth he was met with the scent of peppermint and booze but when he sipped it, it was sweet and balanced. Creamy, pepperminty, and oh so chocolatey. It was his favorite of the drink recipes Gary had concocted over the last few days. Suddenly Gary’s random obsession with spiked hot chocolate this past week made sense.
Tracey gave an appreciative hum as he took another deep sip and let out a content sigh when Gary settled against him, snuggling close. It was cozy and warm, and everything felt so relaxing between the soft music, the steady patter of raindrops, and the crackling of the fire.
Exactly what he had wanted for this holiday.
His husband knew him so well – Tracey’s heart fluttered with appreciation and he dipped his head to capture Gary’s lips in a soft kiss. He tasted like Christmas: chocolate and peppermint and pure sweetness – courtesy of all the stolen cookies, no doubt. For once, Gary didn’t try to deepen it right away and instead let the kiss stay slow and tender as he threaded his fingers through Tracey’s hair.
Now, this was the perfect Christmas.