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It was late December, testing season long done, and most of the team was already back home. Sonny leaned against the pit wall, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his too thin jacket (wasn't Spain supposed to be warm?), watching his breath fog in the cold Spanish air. He felt a little lost and contemplated his next moves.
“Yankee,” Ruben called, voice bright and amused. “You look like someone stole your steering wheel.”
Sonny turned, grinning despite himself. “I don’t do Christmas well,” he said. “Whole thing’s just...loud sweaters and bad music where I’m from.”
Ruben laughed at that, shaking his head good-naturedly. He was already bundled up in a thick scarf Sonny had never seen him wear before - red, knit, clearly handmade. “That is because you have never had a Spanish Christmas.”
Sonny raised an eyebrow. “You sayin’ I’ve been doing Christmas wrong my whole life?”
“I am saying,” Ruben replied solemnly, “that I will show you how it is done right.”
*****
Ruben’s family home sat just outside Madrid, big and warm and glowing with light when they arrived that evening. Sonny hesitated at the door, suddenly unsure - of his scuffed cowboy boots, his accent, his welcome here.
Ruben caught the look immediately. “Relax,” he said softly. “You are my guest. Mi amigo.”
“Your friend?”
“Yes. Friend,” Ruben said, smiling. “But better. More.”
Inside, the house was alive with sound. Voices overlapping, laughter, the clatter of dishes. The smell hit Sonny immediately - citrus and cinnamon, roasting meat, something sweet he couldn’t place. It smelled heavenly. It smelled like home.
Ruben’s mother pulled him into a hug before he could even introduce himself. “Así que este es Sonny,” she said, cupping his face like he was still twelve. “Debes de tener frío.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sonny replied automatically, then looked at Ruben helplessly. He had no idea what the woman had actually said to him. “I mean...”
“Sí,” Ruben told his mother, then quickly translated. “She said you must be freezing.” He leaned close. “You can say mucho gusto,” he whispered.
Sonny tried it carefully, with a disarming smile. “Mucho...gusto.”
She beamed.
“That means ‘nice to meet you',” Ruben added, clearly enjoying this far too much.
*****
The evening unfolded slowly. Sonny learned quickly that Spanish Christmas wasn’t rushed. Dinner lasted hours. Plates were refilled whether you asked or not. Someone was always talking, always laughing.
Ruben slid a small wooden bowl toward him. “Try this. Turrón.”
Sonny took a bite and his eyes widened. “Okay. Yeah. That’s... Wow.”
“Almond and honey,” Ruben said proudly. “Very important.”
“Everything here seems important.”
“It is Christmas,” Ruben replied simply. He bumped Sonny’s shoulder. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Feliz Navidad.”
Sonny smiled softly. “Feliz Navidad.”
“Good,” Ruben said. “You sound less American already.”
*****
They ended up outside later, on the dimly lit terrace. It was cold enough that Sonny could feel it through his jacket, but the house behind them spilled warmth and golden light through the open doors. Laughter drifted out in bursts, someone arguing cheerfully in rapid Spanish. Ruben wrapped his scarf around Sonny without asking.
“Hey,” Sonny protested weakly.
“You will freeze,” Ruben said. “And then my mother will kill me.”
They leaned against the railing, quiet for a long moment.
“You survived dinner,” Ruben finally said. “That means my family likes you.”
“I thought your uncle was going to interrogate me about my childhood until I cracked,” Sonny replied. “Pretty sure I agreed to marry someone’s cousin.”
Ruben laughed. “That just means he trusts you.”
They stood shoulder to shoulder, close enough that Sonny could feel the heat coming off of Ruben. “This is nice,” Sonny admitted. “Different. I like it.”
Ruben smiled, looking up at the night sky. “In Spain, Christmas is about being together. Not about things. Just...estar juntos.”
“Being together?" Sonny ventured.
Ruben nodded.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Sonny said, “Teach me more Spanish.”
Ruben glanced at him, surprised. “Now?”
“Yeah. Seems like the right time.”
Ruben thought, then said slowly, “Estoy en casa.”
Sonny frowned. “I am...at home?”
Ruben’s smile was small but radiant. “Yes.”
Sonny repeated it under his breath, like he was trying the words on for size. “Estoy en casa.” He looked over at Ruben, who was watching him carefully, something soft and hopeful in his eyes. “I like that. Ok, what else?”
Ruben arched an eyebrow. “More?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
Ruben grinned. “You already know the polite words.”
“Good,” Sonny said with a grin of his own. “I’m tired of bein’ polite.”
Ruben’s eyes flicked down, then back up. “All right. But do not say these inside. My mother will disown me.” He leaned in slightly, his voice a bare whisper. “First one: Joder.”
Sonny repeated it carefully. “Ho-der?”
“Close,” Ruben said, chuckling. “It means... ‘fuck.’ Or ‘damn.’ Or sometimes just...everything.”
Sonny tried it again, smoother this time. “Joder.”
Ruben smiled approvingly. “Muy bien.”
“That means ‘very good’, right?”
Ruben nodded. “See? You are a natural.” He leaned in closer still. “Next,” he continued. “Coño.”
Sonny snorted. “That one sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” Ruben said, delighted. “Very versatile. You can say it when you are angry, surprised, impressed...”
“Like ‘holy shit’?”
“Yes,” Ruben said. “But better.”
Sonny tested it under his breath. “Coño.”
Ruben laughed. “Careful. You say it like that again and I might start thinking bad things.”
Sonny’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah? Like what?”
Ruben looked at him, really looked, and his eyes darkened. “I could teach you another phrase.”
Sonny swallowed. Hard. “I’m listenin’.”
Ruben leaned in even closer, their shoulders touching. “Me vuelves loco,” Ruben murmured.
Sonny frowned. “Loco means ‘crazy’, right?”
“Yes,” Ruben said quietly. “I just said ‘you drive me crazy’.”
Something warm settled low in Sonny’s chest. “That’s... Wow, ok.”
Ruben smiled. “You do not say it to just anyone.”
They stood there for a moment, neither of them moving. The night suddenly seemed electrically charged.
“So,” Sonny said, voice rougher now. “If I wanted to say... I like you. More than I should.”
Ruben’s breath hitched just slightly. “Then you say, me gustas.”
Sonny repeated it slowly. “Me gustas.”
Ruben’s smile turned soft, almost shy. “Good.”
“And if I wanted to be...less subtle?”
Ruben chuckled, shaking his head. “Americans,” he muttered fondly, with a mock eye roll. “Te deseo.”
Sonny didn’t need the translation for that one. “I want you,” he said quietly.
Ruben smiled. “Exactly.”
They stared at each other, and Ruben felt something shift inside of him. He knew that Sonny was going to leave the next morning, and they wouldn’t see each other again until testing started in a couple of months. He couldn’t bear the thought of being apart from him that long.
“There is something else about Spanish Christmas you do not know yet,” he blurted.
Sonny glanced over. “Oh?”
“Yes,” Ruben said. “Reyes Magos.”
“The Three Kings?”
Ruben nodded. “January sixth. That is when children get gifts. Not Christmas morning.”
Sonny blinked. “You’re tellin’ me the kids don’t get their gifts tomorrow? They gotta wait even longer?”
“Yes,” Ruben said, smiling. “Because the waiting is part of it.” He explained the tradition, the parades, the crowns, the shoes left out overnight, the hope threaded through it all. Sonny listened closely, with his full attention, enraptured by the whole thing. “My family gets together again,” Ruben added. “Big breakfast. Chocolate. Roscón.”
“Sounds like fun,” Sonny said.
“It is,” Ruben agreed. Then he added in a quiet tone of voice, “You could stay.”
Sonny froze.
“With us,” Ruben clarified, his pulse racing. “If you want. For Reyes.”
There was silence for a long moment. “I’d like that,” Sonny said finally. “If you’re sure.”
Ruben met his eyes. “Estoy seguro.” I’m sure.
Something shifted between them, subtle but irreversible.
Sonny smiled, small and real. He ducked his head, looking uncharacteristically shy. “And your family?” he asked.
Ruben just laughed. “My grandmother nicknamed you el americano bueno,” he said. “Everyone calls you that already. My family has adopted you, whether you like it or not.”
Sonny looked genuinely perplexed. “Reyes Magos,” he finally just said. “Yeah, I guess I could come back then.”
Ruben glanced at him. “You are not going to leave, Sonny. You will stay right here. Ok? With your new Spanish family.”
Before Sonny could reply, someone called Ruben’s name from inside. Ruben’s hand gently squeezed Sonny’s as he turned back toward the house - a promise, an invitation, a reassurance.
*****
Sonny lay awake in the small guest room Ruben had insisted was his since Christmas. It wasn't just a guest room anymore - it was his room.
He could hear the house breathing around him. Sonny smiled into the dark.
No one had asked ‘How long are you staying?’ They had just said “quédate”. Stay.
And he had. Not just for the holiday itself, but for the days after - the slow days that followed Christmas, when nothing official happened and everything mattered anyway. Grocery runs. Walks through the neighborhood. Helping Ruben’s father fix something that didn’t need fixing. Sitting at the table while Ruben’s mother slid coffee toward him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
They had rung in the new year, Sonny and Ruben and part of his family as well as some family friends. In the early morning hours, away from prying eyes and ears, Sonny and Ruben had shared a quick, chaste kiss, for good luck and as promise for a successful 1993.
Now, in the early hours, Sonny turned his new favorite phrase over in his head. Estoy en casa. ‘I am at home’.
It still startled him how true it felt.
The door creaked softly, and Ruben slipped in, barefoot, hair a mess, wearing a faded Lotus tee shirt and boxer shorts. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” Ruben whispered.
Sonny shrugged. “Just thinkin’.”
Ruben hummed and sat on the edge of the bed. For a moment, they just looked at each other. "You okay?” he finally just asked.
Sonny nodded. “Yeah.”
Ruben leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Sonny’s temple. “Sleep. Reyes Magos is tomorrow.”
Sonny caught Ruben’s wrist before he could pull away. “Hey.”
“Yes?”
“Thanks,” Sonny said simply. “For letting me stay.”
Ruben’s expression softened. “You are family, Sonny.”
*****
Morning arrived loud.
Not frantic, not rushed, just full and vibrant. Voices overlapping, laughter bouncing down the hall, the unmistakable smell of chocolate thick in the air.
Sonny blinked awake to sunlight and noise and the sound of someone knocking once before opening the door.
“¡Arriba!” Ruben’s sister called cheerfully. “The Kings came!”
Sonny sat up, disoriented, then laughed. “Right. Kings.”
Ruben appeared in the doorway moments later, already dressed, his hair still damp. He smiled broadly, happily, clearly excited. “You ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
“For being spoiled,” Ruben said. “Come on.”
Sonny followed him into the living room, still wearing the ratty tee shirt and pajama bottoms he had slept in, his hair sticking up every which way. He saw shoes sitting neatly by the door, to his surprise his boots among them. Wrapping paper littered the floor. Someone handed him a mug before he even sat down.
“Chocolate caliente,” Ruben’s mother said by way of explanation.
Sonny took it automatically. “Yes, ma’am. Gracias.”
She kissed his cheek.
Ruben caught his eye over the rim of his own cup, fond and unsurprised. ‘I told you so’, his smile said.
The gifts were passed slowly, deliberately, the way everything was done here - like there was no reason to rush something good. Sonny received more than he expected - a scarf, thick and warm and handmade, and Sonny just knew that Ruben's mother had knitted it for him; a children's book in Spanish with a note tucked inside that said "to help you learn our language"; a pair of thick socks that were so soft, he immediately put them on.
He was stunned when Ruben’s youngest cousin climbed into his lap without asking and placed a small toy car in his hands. It was bright red, looked old and clearly well-loved.
The kid looked at him seriously and said, “Para que te dé suerte.”
Sonny blinked. “For...?” he tried, smiling, guessing. “So it gives me...?”
The boy nodded emphatically. “Suerte.”
Sonny glanced at Ruben across the room.
“For luck,” Ruben translated.
Sonny curled his fingers around the little car, something in his chest tightening unexpectedly. “Then I’ll take good care of it.”
The boy seemed satisfied and hopped down, already distracted by something else.
Ruben’s mother watched the exchange with a fond expression. “You understand more than you think,” she said in Spanish, slower this time.
Sonny caught entiendes and más, missed the rest, but he smiled anyway. “I’m working on it,” he said.
She squeezed his shoulder. “We see.”
Shortly afterwards, they ate Roscón together. Sonny got sugar on his fingers. Ruben leaned over and brushed it away without thinking, then froze.
No one commented.
Ruben’s father clapped Sonny on the shoulder. “You come back next year,” he said easily.
Sonny smiled, something tight and grateful in his chest. “I’d like that.”
*****
Later, they slipped out onto the terrace again.
Ruben leaned against the railing. “See? Reyes Magos.”
Sonny nodded. “I get it now.”
Ruben glanced at him. “What part?”
“All of it,” Sonny said. “The waiting. The togetherness. The way no one made me feel like I didn’t belong.”
Ruben’s voice was quiet. “I knew they’d love you.”
Sonny smiled. “You always this confident?”
“Only when I’m right.”
They stood there for a moment, then Sonny reached for Ruben’s hand. No hiding. No checking who might see.
“Estoy caliente,” he said to Ruben, who tried hard not to laugh.
“That does not mean ‘I’m warm’, Sonny.”
Sonny just slowly grinned. “I know.”
“It means you are...very interested,” Ruben said, raising his eyebrows.
Sonny’s grin grew wider. “I know.” He leaned in closer until their foreheads were touching. “Your sister taught me.”
Ruben gave a surprised laugh. “Well, in that case... Good to know.”
Sonny took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and then pressed a quick, gentle, chaste kiss to Ruben’s lips, not caring that anyone could see them from inside the house. “Eres mi hogar,” he whispered.
Ruben’s chest tightened and he leaned in for their first real, long, passionate kiss. “You are also my home.”
THE END