Archive of Our Own ^beta

Eddie rushes in through the door of his parents’ house, letting the door slam behind him even though his mother will certainly berate him for it. It’s Christmas Eve and he’s running late picking up his son after a nightmarish shift at the diner. He just wants to get Chris and get home so they can have a few precious moments together before bedtime. 

True to form, Helena appears at the kitchen doorway a moment later. “Don’t slam the door, Eddie, you know how it disturbs your father.”

Eddie barely resists the urge to roll his eyes; his dad has never been disturbed by anything except every choice Eddie has ever made. “Where’s Chris?” he asks, hoping to gather his son and get out of his parents’ house as quickly as possible. 

“He’s watching a movie,” Helena tells him, turning back towards the kitchen and clearly expecting Eddie to follow. It’s the last thing he wants to do; the deeper he goes into the house, the longer it will take to escape. When Helena doesn’t reappear with his son imminently, Eddie sighs and follows her to the kitchen.

As if sensing Eddie's reluctant presence without so much as a glance, Helena picks up again as soon as he enters the room.

“Really, Eddie, you should just leave him with us. He’s all settled in already, and you’re just going to be back in the morning anyway!”

Eddie wants to snark, to fight, but this is well-worn territory and he knows how it will go: Helena will bring up Eddie’s finances, how unsustainable it is for him to work multiple jobs, how unfair it is to Chris, and ultimately that it would be better for all of them for Chris to live with his grandparents for a while. Eddie will fight, like he always does, remind her that he’s Christopher’s dad, that he’s working so hard so that he can give his kid a good life. In the end, it won’t matter what Eddie says—he’ll walk away hurt and angry, and Helena will rest easy having said her piece. Again.

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate their help. In fact, he doesn’t know how he would have survived the two years since Shannon’s death without it. He just wishes that their help didn’t come with so much judgement and manipulation.

“We’re not coming over until lunch time,” Eddie reminds her. “And he wants Santa to know where to find him.”

Helena scoffs, and Eddie knows it’s commentary about what “Santa” will bring Chris at home compared to at his grandparents’ place. Helena and Ramón spoil all of their grandchildren, but they seem to take particular pleasure in spoiling Chris with everything they know Eddie can’t afford to get him. Eddie might be grateful if it wasn’t so clearly motivated by a desire to prove how much more they can provide than he can. A desire to steal his son away from him.

“I’m going to go find my son,” Eddie says instead of fighting. He finds his son curled up on the sofa with a blanket watching the old Frosty the Snowman cartoon that Eddie remembers from his own childhood. Ramón is sitting in an armchair at the far end of the room, his attention on the book in his hands.

“Hey kiddo, hi dad,” Eddie says, calling out the latter greeting and receiving only a couple raised fingers in reply. As irritating as the lack of acknowledgement is, Eddie is grateful—he just wants to take his kid home without a repeat of the conversation he just had with his mother.

“Dad!” Chris cries, throwing his little arms around Eddie’s neck as soon as Eddie crouches down within reach.

“You ready to go home, mijo?”

Chris glances between his dad and the TV, where Santa has just revived a melted Frosty, and then nods decisively. Eddie grabs the bright red crutches that have been propped against the wall and helps Chris get situated.

They pause only briefly in the kitchen to say goodbye to Helena. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here tonight, sweetheart?” she asks Chris, as if the 6-year-old is the one in charge of the decision.

Eddie hides a grin when Chris shakes his head and tells her clearly that he wants to go home. Eddie shrugs at her with false apology and hustles Chris out the door, eager to get as far from his parents' house as is possible given that his own house is less than 15 minutes away. 

"Did you have a good day?" Eddie asks his son once they're in the car. He sees Christopher shrug out of the corner of his eye. Eddie furrows his eyebrows, concerned; his son is typically chatty and upbeat, so the quiet either means he's completely exhausted or something happened. "Did you and your abuela do anything fun?" Chris shrugs again and turns to look out the window. 

At the next stop light, Eddie looks over at Chris, taking in the small features twisted up in deep thought. Something is clearly up, but he's not ready to talk yet, so Eddie can only wait and hope that Chris will come to him. 

Chris trudges into the house, his crutches clacking despondently against the walkway as he follows Eddie to the door. Eddie leaves him alone while he changes out of his work clothes and puts on a load of laundry, and then he heads back to the living room. "Hey kiddo," he greets, "what do you say you put your PJs on while I make us some hot cocoa?" 

"Okay," Chris says. Eddie watches him as he pulls himself up off the couch with the help of his crutches and starts down the hall before stopping and turning back towards Eddie. "Hey dad?" 

"What's up, Chris?" Eddie asks, curious about what's going on in his kid's head. 

"Abuelo said Santa doesn't exist. Is that true?" Eddie feels a surge of anger run through him. What reason could his father possibly have for telling a 6-year-old that Santa doesn't exist? Even Eddie had been allowed to believe until he was 8, though maybe that was more for the sake of his younger sisters than for his own benefit. His sisters had always been given more leniency than he had, not that Eddie begrudged them that—he only wishes he had been allowed the same care and kindness, rather than being pushed to play the part of a parent in place of his absent father. 

Eddie steps quickly over to his son, wrapping him into a hug. "Oh, Chris, no, it's not." 

Chris presses his face into his dad's shirt, his next words coming out small and muffled. “Why would he lie?” 

Eddie strokes a hand through his son’s curls comfortingly as he tries to come up with the right words. “Sometimes,” he says slowly, “grown ups like your abuelo get so caught up in being serious adults that they forget about magic.” 

“So you believe in Santa?” Chris asks, voice a little shaky.

Eddie doesn’t falter, even though he hasn’t believed in any sort of magic in a very long time. “Of course I do!” 

Chris sniffles once more and then shifts back, clearly ready to stand on his own again instead of leaning on his dad. Eddie drops his arms and steps away when he’s sure Chris has his balance. “Now,” Eddie says, “how about that hot cocoa and then bed so Santa can come visit?”

“Yeah,” Chris says, voice steadier now. 

Eddie releases a breath as he watches Chris disappear into his bedroom. He hadn’t expected to have to have that particular conversation for a couple more years at least, and he feels a mix of relief that he managed to keep the magic alive for his son for at least a little longer, and anger at his own father for whatever he had said to prompt it. 

Thankfully, Chris seems to be feeling better by the time cocoa has been consumed and he’s settled in his bed. Eddie leans against the headboard beside him. They’ve already made it through The Polar Express, and Eddie is starting in on The Night Before Christmas when Chris’ eyelids begin to droop. 

“When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter,” Eddie reads, doing his best to keep to the rhythm of the poem. 

“What’s that?” Chris’ sleepy voice murmurs.

“What’s what, mijo?” Eddie asks softly, not sure how awake Chris really is.

“There rose suchak ladder,” Chris mumbles.

Eddie chuckles fondly. “There arose such a clatter,” he corrects, enunciating the words as clearly as he can. “It means there came a big noise.”

“Oh, okay,” Chris says, face nuzzling into the pillow a little as he settles into sleep. 

Eddie shuts the book and places it on the bedside table before carefully extracting himself from the bed. He pushes Chris’ curls back off his forehead and drops a kiss in their place. “Goodnight. Love you,” he whispers, and then he turns off the light and steps into the hall, leaving Chris’ bedroom door cracked behind him so a sliver of light can get in.

With Chris asleep, Eddie sets about retrieving a stack of carefully wrapped gifts from their hiding spot on the highest shelf in his closet. It’s a modest pile, but as he places them under the tree, Eddie thinks it’s enough. He knows it won’t be able to compete with the volume and expense of whatever Helena and Ramón have gotten Chris, but Eddie’s done his best to make Christmas as magical and perfect as he can for his son. 

With a final look at the tree with its colourful lights and the strands of popcorn and cranberry that Eddie had assembled under Chris’ watchful eye, Eddie takes himself to bed. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep himself.

***

Eddie wakes with a start to the sound of thumping. He pushes himself up to sitting, listening intently but not immediately hearing anything more. He picks up his phone to check the time: 1:43 AM. Maybe it’s Chris, Eddie thinks, preparing himself to climb out of bed to check on his son and make sure he hasn’t fallen out of bed or worse. Then he makes out the familiar soft clicking of Chris’ crutches in the hall and hears his bedroom door creak open. 

“Dad?” Chris’ voice asks in the dark. 

“What’s up, Chris? Did you have a bad dream?” 

“I heard a clatter.” 

There’s another thump then, like patio furniture being tossed around in a storm.

“I think it’s just the wind,” Eddie says, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and tucking the phone in his pocket so he can usher Chris back down the hall. “Come on, let’s go back to bed.” 

A louder noise sounds out around them, seeming to originate somewhere directly above them. Okay, not patio furniture then.

“It sounds like someone is on the roof,” Chris says. “Maybe it’s Santa!”

He’s not wrong, it does sound like someone is on the roof, but Eddie knows it’s not Santa. He touches his son’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m going to go check it out. You stay in here okay?”

Eddie slips his feet into a pair of sneakers that are sitting by the door, not bothering to stop to tie them before stepping outside. He walks out into the front yard, and peers up at the roof in the dark. There’s definitely someone (or something) moving around up there, just barely visible in the moonlight. 

He knows he should call the police and let them take care of it, but who knows how long they might take. Instead, Eddie takes a deep breath and then calls out, “Hey, you! What are you doing up there?” 

It must startle whoever it is, because there’s a shout of surprise followed by what sounds like a painful fall, and then there’s a figure tumbling down the slope of the roof towards the side of the house. The front door opens just as Eddie is about to take off towards where the figure fell, and he sees Chris framed by the light of the doorway. 

“Chris, go back inside,” he begs, not wanting to have to worry about his child’s safety while confronting a burglar. 

“But I want to see!” 

“Chris, please,” Eddie tries again, but he knows he’s lost when his son starts stubbornly making his way across the grass on his crutches. “Okay, come here you,” he sighs, scooping the boy up into his arms so at least he doesn’t have to worry about him tripping in the dark yard. 

Together, they traipse to the side of the house, and Eddie wastes no time locating the form of a man lying in the scrubby bushes. He puts Chris down carefully and fishes his phone from the pocket of the shorts he slept in, turning on the flashlight.

As the light hits the figure, he hears Chris gasp at his side. “It is Santa! You killed him!”

The figure certainly looks like Santa, Eddie concedes, big white beard and an outfit of red velvet and white fur shining beneath the direct light. Eddie leans in carefully and gives the man a shake, hoping . “Hello?” He gets no response. He tries once more, once again gets no answer—not even a twitch—and he begins to worry. He doesn’t exactly feel bad about a burglar potentially dying by falling off his roof—that seems like karma, if Eddie is honest—but he’s not thrilled by the idea that his son might be traumatized by the sight of “Santa” dead in his yard in the early hours of Christmas morning. 

“Maybe he has some I.D.,” Eddie muses hopefully, reaching out to do a quick check of the man’s pockets. He comes away empty handed save for a business card. 

“What’s it say?” Chris asks, seeming more curious than traumatized, thank goodness. 

Eddie holds the card up under the light so he can read it. The front of the card has only two words printed on it in neat red font:

Santa Claus

Eddie huffs disbelievingly and flips the card over, reading the text he finds there. “If something should happen to me, put on my suit. The reindeer will know what to do.”

“Yeah right,” Eddie mutters.

Chris tugs on the side of his shirt. “Hey, he’s gone!”

“What?” Eddie asks, looking down at where the red suit lies flat and empty on the ground. “Where’d he go?”

Chris shrugs, seemingly nonplussed by the man’s disappearance. “So are you gonna put the suit on?” he asks, excitement clear in his voice. 

“No, of course not,” Eddie tells him matter-of-factly. “I’m going to call the police, and you’re going to go back to bed.” 

Chris looks like he’s about to argue, his eyebrows drawing together tight and lips pursing, but before he can there’s another series of loud noises—thundering hooves and jangling bells—and then there’s a sleigh looping down from the roof to land on the small square of lawn. 

Eddie blinks a few times, as if it will clear his vision and make the full blown sleigh and reindeer setup disappear from his front yard. 

“I must be dreaming,” Eddie mutters to himself. It’s the only explanation there is, really. After all, it’s Christmas Eve and he and Chris read “The Night Before Christmas” before bed, so it follows that his subconscious is making him dream about reindeer. 

With that settled in his mind, it’s easy to let Chris make his way forward and start befriending the reindeer without worrying too much about what diseases unknown mammals might possibly be carrying. Chris is making one-sided conversation with the reindeer closest to him when Eddie joins him.

“Hello … Comet,” Eddie says, reading the name on the creature’s harness. The reindeer turns its head towards him, and he reaches out to touch the rough fur between its antlers, because, hell, why not take the opportunity to pet a reindeer, even if only in a dream?

“Dad, do you think all of Santa’s reindeer are girls?” Chris asks, head tilted to the side. Comet huffs in a way that would lead Eddie can only take as disagreement at the idea.

“I always thought it was a mix of boys and girls,” he says. “Why?”

“Boy reindeers are s’posed to lose their antlers in the fall, but the girls keep theirs until spring,” Chris explains nonchalantly. “Maybe it’s different because these ones are magic.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Eddie agrees. Comet huffs in apparent agreement.

The reindeer tolerates their petting for another few moments before gentle nudges to their hands become more frantic, accompanied by looks between Eddie and the sleigh. 

“I think he wants you to get in the sleigh,” Chris says. 

“And do what?” Eddie asks. Even in a dream he doesn’t have the faintest idea of how to drive a flying sleigh, nor why he would do such a thing. 

Chris and Comet give him matching unimpressed looks. “Deliver the presents!”

“Like … this?” Eddie asks, looking down at the worn shorts and black tank top he’s wearing. 

Chris rolls his eyes emphatically. “Nuh uh! You gotta put the suit on, like the card said!” 

Eddie glances back towards the suit still lying amongst the scrubby brush of the bushes at the side of the house. The last thing he wants to do right now—dream or not—is put on a velvet suit of dubious origin and climb into a sleigh so he can, what, break into people’s houses? 

“Come on dad,” Chris whines impatiently. 

Sighing, Eddie gives in. Maybe the best way to get through this deeply weird dream is to just go with the flow. Quickly, he pulls the red velvet suit on over the comfy clothes he wore to bed, cinching the waist of the pants in tightly so they don’t immediately fall off. He supposes his own physique isn’t exactly typical of a Santa, so it’s not entirely surprising. 

“Happy?” Eddie asks, holding his arms out demonstratively as he turns to face Chris and Comet. 

Comet huffs approvingly as Chris nods, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at the pair they make. He makes sure Chris is well situated, and his crutches carefully stowed in the back of the sleigh, before he slips into the driver’s seat and picks up the reins. 

“Okay, Comet, you know what to do,” Eddie says, shaking the reins with a halfhearted “hyah!” The reindeer don’t move. He tries once more with more force, and again the reindeer ignore him.

“Daaaaad,” Chris says exasperatedly. “You have to do it right.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You know …” Chris prompts. When Eddie doesn’t seem to get it, Chris simply jumps in and does it himself. “On Dasher,” he says, and the reindeer immediately straighten up. “On Dancer, on Prancer, and Vixen! On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen,” he continues, stumbling and stuttering a little on Donner and Blitzen. The reindeer don’t seem to mind, their attention focused now, hooves pawing at the ground, ready to go. 

This time, when Eddie snaps the reins, the reindeer burst into action, carrying them across the yard and then up, up, up until their neighbourhood begins to disappear into the dark. 

The wind whips through their hair and against their cheeks as they speed through the sky, and for the first time Eddie is grateful for the velvet and fur suit. Chris had thought to put on a jacket over his matching rocket ship pajamas before following Eddie outside, but he still shivers a little as they begin passing over snow-peaked mountains. Eddie half turns to dig around in the back of the sleigh one-handed, hoping that the dream-magic means there will be a blanket to be found. His fingers brush over something soft and plush, and he tugs on it to reveal a cozy looking blanket in deep green with gold braided trim around the edges. Eddie hands the blanket to his son, and watches out of the corner of his eye as Chris carefully tucks it around his legs and then offers out a corner. Eddie smiles affectionately at Chris and runs a hand over his flyaway curls as they whip in the breeze. 

"I've got this nice cozy suit," Eddie says, "so you wrap up in that and stay warm." 

"Okay," Chris says, curling further into the blanket with a yawn. Eddie is about to tell him he should rest his eyes—not that he thinks his wildly curious boy would willingly miss any part of this experience—when the sleigh tilts, and the reindeer lead them into a sharp dive that has Chris looking suddenly wide awake. Eddie's stomach flips like he's on a rollercoaster that just crested its highest peak, and his hand shoots out instinctively to brace Chris in the seat. It only takes a moment before he realizes that despite the lack of doors or seatbelts, they don't seem to be at any risk of tumbling from the sleigh, even at the current steep angle of descent. He's not sure how he didn't notice before, really; maybe he was still too caught up in the whole dead Santa thing. 

In moments, they're hurtling towards a bank of townhomes. It seems like they're going to crash for far too long before the reindeer pull up suddenly and lead them into a surprisingly smooth landing on the roof of a row of three or four units. 

"What are we doing?" Eddie asks. 

"You have to deliver the presents!" Chris chirps, maneuvering himself awkwardly around so he can tug at the large red and white bag in the back of the sleigh. 

The bag is empty when Eddie picks it up. "There's nothing in here, bud." 

Comet huffs from his spot near the middle of the harnessed pack. 

"The bag is magic," Chris explains in the same tone he assumed Comet would be using if he could speak. 

"Okayyy. And how exactly am I supposed to get inside?" 

Chris and Comet huff in unison this time. "The chimney, dad."

Eddie takes a look around and spots ... nothing. There's no chimney to be seen, just a couple of small pipes that he assumed must be vents of some sort. With a sigh and not at all believing that anything is going to happen, Eddie takes the empty bag and walks over to the nearest pipe to peer into it. He's about to turn around and give up when he feels a strange tugging behind his navel and his head spins, and then suddenly he's tumbling onto the floor of a comfortable living room. He pushes himself to his feet carefully, feeling a little queasy and discombobulated. As he reaches for the bag that fell to the floor beside him, he finds it suddenly full to bursting. That dream magic again, he thinks. 

As quietly as possible, Eddie pulls each box free from the confines of the bag and places them beneath a tree covered in a mix of traditional ornaments and ones clearly made by the hands of children. When he's done, he steps back towards the spot where he first found himself, unsure of how to leave again. As he has the thought that he needs to figure out how to leave, he feels the tugging and dizziness again and then he's back on the roof and Chris is gaping at him with huge, excited eyes. 

"That was SO COOL!" Chris calls. Eddie couldn't disagree even if he wanted to.

He makes his way through each of the units in the row of townhomes and then the reindeer gently move them across the gap to the next row, just barely taking off before they land again. Chris watches from the sleigh, seeming transfixed by watching Eddie disappear and reappear and happily chatting away to the reindeer from beneath his blanket. 

In the 5th house, Eddie gets barked at by a dog and has to make quick work of depositing the gifts and hightailing it out of there as he hears a gruff voice call out, "Sumo, be quiet!" from down the hall. In the 13th, he sneaks around carefully behind a 20-something man who is talking animatedly into his headset while he plays some sort of brightly coloured game that seems to feature guns and cartoon characters. He seems focused on his game, and his back stays blessedly facing Eddie the entire time. 

The night continues on in much the same way, with straightforward stops mixed with those where animals are overly interested in his presence, or someone is awake, or where there's almost certainly a camera watching his every move. Chris eventually falls asleep in the sleigh, and Eddie wishes he could do the same. By the time the sunrise begins to peek over the horizon, Eddie is exhausted and beyond ready for a nap. Or maybe to wake up from this dream feeling well-rested and ready to greet the day. He's not really sure anymore. 

The next time they land, they're in a desolate wintry landscape. "This doesn't look like home," Eddie says quietly, more to himself than to the reindeer, but several of them look at him anyway. A moment later, a lone figure appears on a hill ahead of them, walking towards what looks to be a red and white pole sticking out the snow. 

"Whas going on?" Chris mumbles sleepily. "Where are we?" 

"I don't know," Eddie tells him honestly. The distant figure reaches out and seems to interact with a panel on the pole.

"Is that the North Pole?"

Eddie is saved from trying to figure out how to respond by the ground beneath the sleigh beginning to open around them, and the whole thing—reindeer and all—begins to descend slowly. 

The space they end up in is warm and bright and bustling, the whole space festooned with red and green decor. 

“WOAH!” Chris enthuses, now fully awake and trying to grab for his crutches, presumably so he can climb down from the sleigh and explore. 

“Hold on!” Eddie tells him with a laugh, hopping out on his own side so he can locate the crutches and help Chris down. He doesn’t quite make it that far though, instead finding himself nearly bowled over by what at first glance seems to be a mob of children. On closer inspection, Eddie takes in their rosy cheeks, their pointy shoes and their equally pointy ears and comes to only one conclusion: they’re not children, they’re elves. 

And then, behind him, he hears a voice, gentle and warm and clearly speaking to Chris. 

“Hey, Superman, you need something out of the back?” 

Eddie turns around, expecting to see another childlike elf, and instead finds himself looking at a giant of a man. He’s taller than Eddie by at least a couple inches, and looks like he must be around Eddie’s age, but despite those things, he’s still clearly an elf, with light brown curls and pointy ears poking out from beneath a red and green hat. 

“My crutches,” Chris says. “They’re red.” 

“Okay, let me just have a quick look.” The man digs under the big red bag, quickly locating Chris’ crutches and returning to face the boy with a triumphant “Aha!” 

Eddie watches as the man carefully helps Chris get the crutches situated and then helps him down from the sleigh. And then he finally looks up and seems to notice Eddie, bright blue eyes going wide, beneath fair eyebrows, the left one framed by two spots of pink.

“Uh, hi,” Eddie says.

“Hi Santa,” the man says. 

“Eddie,” Eddie tells him, hoping it will stick. “And you seem to have met Chris.” 

The man looks slightly embarrassed, but he pushes on. “I’m Buck. I’m the H.E.I.C.”

“H.E.I.C.?” 

“The Head Elf in Charge,” Buck explains, before quickly backtracking and adding, “Outside of you, of course! You’re head … er.”

Chris giggles at Buck’s slightly frantic words. 

“About that,” Eddie begins. “I’m not Santa.”

“The previous guy disappeared, right?”

“Yeah—“

“He fell off the roof!” Chris cuts in excitedly.

Buck starts walking, gesturing for them to follow, and Eddie notices for the first time just how long his legs are. Eddie worries for a moment that those long long legs will move too fast for Chris to keep up, but instead Buck seems to pace himself exactly to the boy’s speed. 

As they walk, Buck continues the conversation. “Did you or did you not read the card?”

“Yeah, I read it,” Eddie sighs, feeling like he’s admitting guilt. 

“Then you’re the new Santa,” Buck tells him with a shrug. “In putting on the hat and jacket, you accepted the contract.”

“What contract?”

“The card,” Buck repeats. “When you put on the suit, you fell subject to the Santa clause.

Eddie furrows his brows, feeling extremely confused. “The guy who fell off my roof?”

Buck shakes his head. “Not Santa Claus the person; Santa clause, the clause. Like in a contract.” 

Eddie knows he’s looking at Buck like the guy is reciting Who’s on First?, which would honestly be less confusing than what Buck is actually saying. 

The conversation pauses for a moment, as they seem to arrive at their destination and Buck ushers Chris and Eddie through the door. Once they’re inside with the door closed behind them, the noise and hustle of the space outside—which had still been audible even after Buck had led them down a series of halls away from the busy epicentre—seems to disappear completely. It’s a large bedroom with a massive sleigh style bed at one end and a seating area at the other, complete with bookcases and other items. A couple of doors lead out of the main space, presumably to a bathroom and a closet of some sort. 

“Do you have the card?” Buck asks, drawing Eddie’s attention back to him. Eddie fishes through his pockets and finds the slightly bent and crumpled business card with red text on the front. He hands it over and Buck makes his way to a corner of the room where a contraption with a number of magnifying lenses sits. He sticks the card in the little metal holder at the end and proceeds to fiddle with the lenses for a moment before stepping back and waving Eddie over. 

It takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust as he looks through the lenses, but then he sees it: the fine print that runs around the outside edge of the card. As he reads, it becomes clear that Buck wasn’t kidding—the words around the edges are legalese detailing the terms of a contract that Eddie has unwittingly entered into. He curses silently, hoping that his theory about this all being a dream is right. 

“So I’m …” Eddie says, trailing off.

Buck nods slowly. “Santa. Yeah.” 

Eddie backs away from the magnified card slowly, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the possibility that if this isn’t a dream …

But no, it has to be a dream. Magic isn’t real, Santa doesn’t exist, and there isn’t an attractive man elf looking at Eddie like he’s waiting for him to lose it completely. 

Granted, Eddie wouldn’t mind if Buck did exist. He’s been having some realizations lately about himself and the fact that dating has always felt like a bit of an act. And, well, he hasn’t exactly had a lot of time to explore what any of it means aside from the fact that he certainly appreciates the way Buck looks with his clear blue eyes and the perpetually rosy cheeks that make him look like he’s always blushing. 

He shakes himself free from that train of thought, though it’s hard with Buck looking at him so intently. 

“So what exactly does that mean for my life?” Eddie asks.

Buck bites his lip like he’s nervous, and Eddie has to forcibly avert his gaze from the way the action draws attention to just how pink and soft his mouth looks. “Well,” Buck says, “you’ll have eleven months to prepare, and you’ll be expected back here December 1st for Christmas preparations. Since you’re new, we’ll have to arrange a meeting with the Council to introduce you officially, but that doesn’t have to happen right away.”

Eddie furrows his brows in question. “The Council?”

"Uh, yeah, the Council of Legendary Figures," Buck explains. "It's like, all the people you probably stopped believing in at some point: the Tooth Fairy, Cupid, Father Time and Mother Nature ..." he waves a hand in Eddie's direction, "Santa." 

Eddie nods slowly, taking in that information. "So they're all ..." 

"Real? Yeah. You'll like them, I think. Bobby and Athena, um, Father Time and Mother Nature, are amazing ... they really are kind of like everyone's parents." Buck looks so genuinely happy as he talks about them, a soft, real smile turning up the corners of his mouth. It looks different than the smile he'd been wearing since Eddie and Chris arrived. Maybe Eddie was reading too much into it—the man was an elf after all, and cheeriness seemed to be in their nature—but that smile had seemed just a little too bright, like it was pasted on for the sake of others. 

Eddie is about to say more, to ask about Buck's relationship with them, or about the previous Santa maybe, but then Buck claps and that too-bright smile is back. "Well, let me find you something else to wear so you can change out of that suit." Buck turns away and begins to investigate a nearby dresser, pulling out what appears to be a set of red satin pajamas and placing them on the end of the large bed. "Um, there's a bathroom through that door," he points to the door on Eddie's right, "there should be towels and everything in case you want a shower—I know flying can make people feel kind of gross." He says it like he's talking about a commercial flight to Florida, not a round-the-world trip in a magical sleigh. 

"Thanks," Eddie tells him, picking up the pile of red satin. He looks to where Chris has happily occupied himself with a train set that runs a complex loop around the base of a Christmas tree.

Seeming to sense Eddie's need to make sure his son is okay in this unfamiliar place, Buck quickly jumps in. "Hey, Chris, how about you and I go make up a batch of my special hot cocoa?" He drops his voice conspiratorially. "Maybe I'll even tell you the super special secret recipe." 

Chris' eyes go wide and excited, and Eddie wonders whether it's the hot cocoa or the secrets that he's more excited about. "Can I, dad?" 

Eddie glances at Buck. He already knows he's going to say yes, but the fact that Buck's expression is almost as pleading as Chris' sells him completely on the idea. "Go ahead." 

He watches for a moment as Chris gets to his feet, half expecting Buck to step in and help him without being asked. Instead, Buck, too, watches as Chris gets to his feet and reorients himself on his crutches and the two move towards the door together. 

"I'll bring him back in one piece!" Buck calls back to Eddie. 

"And cocoa!" He hears Chris chime in as the door closes behind them. 

And then Eddie is alone in this strange place for the first time. He feels a little out of place as he shuffles to the bathroom and pulls a towel off a neatly organized shelf, setting it and the pajamas aside so he can strip off the velvet suit and his own shorts and tank top that he's still wearing beneath. He folds it all carefully into piles and then steps into the shower. The hot spray feels amazing as it washes over him, taking with it the lingering chill from the winter air and the gritty sensation of grime covering his skin. Eddie lets himself linger, lathering his body with palmfuls of sweet sugarplum scented bodywash and luxuriating in the steam that surrounds him. 

When he's finally clean and dried off, Eddie puts on the red satin pajamas. They're surprisingly comfortable—smooth and cool against his skin—but he feels oddly exposed at the idea of being seen in them. He doesn't know what else to do though, so with a sigh Eddie scoops up the suit and his own clothes and heads back out into the bedroom. As he opens the door, he hears his son's bright laugh, and it makes him smile. 

"You're right though," Buck says, clearly picking up an existing thread of conversation, "usually only female reindeer have their antlers in the winter. But our reindeer are magic just like everything else around here, so all of them keep their antlers all year!" 

"Wow!" Chris enthuses. "Are you magic too?"

Buck laughs then, and it's deeper than Chris' laugh, but just as bright. Eddie follows the sound to find the two of them sitting in a matched set of armchairs by a fireplace, big mugs of cocoa in their hands and a third sitting on the table, clearly waiting for Eddie. "I am," Buck says. "Not like the reindeer though. I can't fly or do anything like that."

"What can you do?" Chris asks, with all the tact of a child. Buck laughs again, his eyes sparkling. “Well, mostly some small, silly things.” Buck twists a hand in the air and for a moment he and Chris are surrounded by colourful sparks of light, like they’re in a field of multicoloured fireflies. Eddie just barely hears Chris’ awed whisper in reaction. “Other than that, mostly elves just get to see all the things that most people don’t, and we live a really long time.”

“How long?” Chris asks in fascination. Eddie finds himself as curious as his son to know the answer.

“Well,” Buck says, “you know how a lot of the elves don’t look much older than you?” Chris nods. “That’s because it takes us about 500 years to look like human adults, even though we’re considered adults at 100. That’s when we start working, and most of us work making toys or raising reindeer for a few hundred years and then retire to start families of our own or move to other careers, like knitting and cookie baking. And we still live for a long, long time after that!” 

“Wow,” Chris says for maybe the 5th time in as many minutes. “So how old are you?”

Buck ponders for a second, like he’s counting up the years. “Let’s put it this way; it’s taken me nearly 1000 years just to get that hot cocoa recipe right.” Chris’ mouth drops open, and Buck turns to look over his shoulder at Eddie. “You should try it, by the way. Before it gets cold.”

Eddie nods once and moves across the space to pick up the lone mug from the table. There’s a mostly melted swirl of whipped cream on top with a few curls of chocolate still clinging to it. Buck takes a sip from his own mug, but his eyes are still focused on Eddie, clearly waiting for his reaction.

Eddie brings the mug to his lips and takes a long sip. He only narrowly avoids making an obscene noise as the rich, spiced chocolate floods his mouth. He thinks he sees the corner of Buck’s mouth quirk up just as his eyes drop shut in pleasure. 

“Good?” Buck asks. There’s an edge of something in his voice that Eddie resolutely refuses to acknowledge with his son in the room. He’s known Buck for all of an hour, and he’s still pretty sure the guy is a figment of his own dreaming mind, yet somehow he still knows it would be far too easy to fall in love with him. 

He takes another sip of his cocoa and focuses on the warm, complex flavours of it. “It’s amazing,” he says, finally opening his eyes to look at Buck, and finding those clear blue eyes focused on him. “By far the best I’ve ever had.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out suggestively, but his voice seems to drop of its own accord, matching the warm depth of the cocoa in his hands.

Buck keeps looking at him for a very long moment before he blinks and turns to look at Chris, immediately delving back into their earlier topic as he asks, “Did you know that reindeer can see UV light? And their eyes change colour!”

As Buck delves into sharing more reindeer facts, Eddie sits back and continues to drink his hot cocoa, savouring each sip. He watches Buck and Chris talk happily, both of them lighting up as they go back and forth. It strikes Eddie suddenly how similar Chris and Buck are with their light curls, their bright blue eyes, and, apparently, their same boundless enthusiasm for information. 

By the time Eddie finishes the last sip from his mug, Chris is beginning to look sleepy. Eddie’s own eyelids feel heavy too, and he thinks all the excitement that was keeping them awake must finally be wearing off. He has no idea what time it is, or even whether time exists in any real way where they are. 

“I should let you both get some rest,” Buck says when Eddie finally sets his empty mug down. 

“I’m sure we could both use it,” Eddie agrees. “Will we see you in the morning?” He doesn’t know why he asks. Or rather, he does—he wants to see Buck in the morning—but he meant to play it cool. 

Buck’s eyes flicker to him and hold his gaze briefly. “Probably not,” he says, and Eddie thinks, maybe hopefully, that he sounds a little sad about it. He looks back at Chris as he says, “that reminds me though,” and pulls something from his pocket. It’s an ornament of some sort—a little snow globe with a depiction of the North Pole inside. He offers it out to Chris. “I thought you might like to have this. Whenever you shake it, I’ll know, so if you ever need to get hold of me or your dad, you always can.” 

Chris smiles and leans forward to hug Buck. Buck looks a little surprised by the gesture, but his arms quickly wrap around the boy and give him a gentle squeeze. He looks slightly emotional when he pulls away from the hug a minute later and stands from the couch. 

“Okay,” Buck says, wiping his palms on his dark pants. “I’ll be in touch when there’s a date set for the Council meeting, and I’ll make sure the list gets forwarded to you in the spring.”

“Thank you,” Eddie tells him, also standing up so he can walk Buck to the door, as the standards of politeness instilled in him by his parents demand. 

They stand by the door for a too-long moment before Eddie finally makes a move to open it. They’re standing close—so close Eddie thinks he could just lean in and kiss Buck without even having to take a step. “Goodnight,” he says quietly.

Buck smiles at him. “Merry Christmas, Santa.” And then he’s gone, and the door swings shut behind him. 

***

Eddie wakes to the sound of Chris calling him. 

“Dad! Daaaaad! It’s Christmas!” 

Eddie blinks his eyes open, half expecting to find himself in a room heavily decorated in red and green. Instead, he’s in his own bedroom with its neutral walls and furnishings. The alarm clock on his bedside table proclaims it to be 6:14. 

What a dream, Eddie thinks. He wonders what in the world his subconscious was trying to process with that. Maybe it’s just the stress of spending Christmas with his family. 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Eddie climbs out of bed and heads for the living room, where he finds Chris already perched on the couch, bouncing excitedly. 

“Merry Christmas, Chris,” Eddie says, dropping a kiss on his son’s curls.

“Merry Christmas, dad! Can I start opening presents?” 

Eddie laughs. “Give me a few minutes to make some coffee and then we’ll open them together.”

To his credit, Chris doesn’t pout, he just nods and says, “Hurry, ‘kay?”

“I will,” Eddie promises. He puts on a pot of coffee and then goes down the hall to the bathroom. It isn’t until he steps up to the sink to wash his hands and sees himself in the mirror that he realizes that he’s wearing a pair of red satin pajamas. 

“What the hell?” He mutters to himself. He remembers being given pajamas like these in his dream, but that doesn’t make any sense—he must have had them hidden away in a drawer and forgotten about them and then put them on half asleep. “Hey Chris,” he asks as he leaves the bathroom, “do you remember where I got these pajamas?”

Chris gives him a confused look. “Buck gave them to you.” Eddie freezes. Was there a shopkeeper named Buck that had helped him pick them out? Surely Chris can’t know about his dream, and you don’t get pajamas from dreams anyway. 

“And where did we meet Buck?”

“At the North Pole,” Chris says easily. 

“Of course,” Eddie replies, feeling a little lightheaded. If Chris knows that, does it mean ... ? But no, there's no way any of that actually happened, so there must be some other explanation. Unable to think of one, Eddie opts to distract himself instead, heading to the kitchen to pour a mug from the pot of coffee that has just finished brewing. He splashes some milk into it and then pours a glass of orange juice for Chris, hoping it will offer a little bit of balance for all the sugary treats that he's sure to eat out of his stocking before they make it around to breakfast. 

"Okay," Eddie says as he places the drinks onto the coffee table, "you ready?" 

"Yes!" Chris all but shouts as he bounces excitedly. Eddie grabs their stockings and settles in beside his son to unpack them. He's only slightly surprised to find items in his own that he doesn't remember putting there himself. 

***

It's just past noon when Eddie parks outside his parents' house and he and Chris head up the driveway. His sister Adriana's car is already there, and part of Eddie is grateful that she and her husband, Simon, and their three kids are already there so he doesn't have to be the centre of attention. He doesn't like when his parents focus on him at the best of times, and with the confusion of the dream leaking into the real world, Eddie is feeling far from prepared for another verbal sparring match with his mother. 

The first little while passes easily enough. Helena is still in the kitchen finishing food prep (Eddie and his sisters know better than to offer help at this point in their lives) and Ramón is happily ensconced in his chair, "watching" the kids while they play but really reading his newspaper. With the kids entertaining one another, that leaves Eddie to catch up with Adriana and Simon, and soon enough, their younger sister, Sophia, arrives with her boyfriend-du-jour.

"Everyone, this is Pierre," Sophia says, before turning back to her boyfriend and introducing them each to him in turn. Eddie catches Adriana's eye when Sophia looks away, and he would bet good money that they're both thinking the same thing: this man has never heard a single one of their names before today. It's not surprising, really—Sophia's boyfriends don't exactly tend to stick around very long, so the fact that this one has made it to Christmas dinner is more a fluke of timing than a statement about the seriousness of the relationship. 

Pierre, thankfully, serves as a good distraction when Helena emerges from the kitchen. Eddie wouldn't wish his mother's scrutiny on anyone, but none of Sophia's boyfriends have ever come to more than one family gathering, so Eddie is willing to allow them to take the brunt of her attention for a single afternoon to save the sanity of those exposed to it day after day. 

It all works to keep Eddie out of the crossfire for a while, right up until they all gather around the tree in the living room to open gifts. The kids tear through a mountain of unwrapping, finding expensive toys that make Adriana and Eddie share another look, and eventually a box is passed into Eddie's hands, and he rips into the paper with gusto, specifically because he knows his dad hates when adults tear into gifts instead of unwrapping them carefully. Eddie lifts the lid of the box, and he nearly laughs out loud at the sight of a pair of pajamas inside. They're not red or satin, but the reminder of Buck hits him suddenly. 

"What did you get, dad?" Chris asks, shuffling up beside him. 

"I got some new pajamas!" Eddie tells him, trying to inject excitement he does not feel into his voice. 

"But you don't need pajamas," Chris says, far too loudly for Eddie's comfort, "Buck gave you some!" 

Eddie flinches, hoping that no one caught what Chris said, but beyond certain that he won't be that lucky. 

"Oh!" Helena says, and Eddie braces himself, but all she says is, "I can always return them if you don't need them, Edmundo." 

"No, they're great, thanks mom. Dad." Helena smiles tightly, and Ramón nods once. Eddie relaxes fractionally, hoping that will be the end of it. 

His sisters, however, are not about to let that happen. 

“Who’s Buck?” Adriana asks, ignoring the daggers that Eddie attempts to shoot at her with his eyes. 

“Just a shopkeeper that we met the other day,” Eddie says quickly, hoping that it will be enough for everyone to let it go.

Chris clearly does not get the message. “Nuh uh! Don’t you remember?” He looks at Eddie like he’s been betrayed. Eddie feels sick, stuck between wanting to hold fast to his denial and wanting to agree with Chris because of course he remembers and he doesn’t like lying to his son. 

Chris doesn’t wait for an answer either way. “Buck is an elf at the North Pole,” he explains matter-of-factly. “Dad and I went there last night.”

“To the North Pole?” Sophia questions, sounding amused. Most of the adults are smiling at Chris indulgently, clearly thinking they’re listening to a child’s make-believe story. 

“Uh huh,” Chris confirms. “Dad is the new Santa! The old Santa fell off our roof, so dad put on the suit and the reindeer took us to the North Pole. Buck showed us around and gave dad pajamas and gave me a snow globe!”

“That sounds like quite a dream!” Helena says, sounding for all the world like she doesn’t believe a word of it, for which Eddie is grateful. 

“It wasn’t a dream!” Chris insists. “It really happened! Dad, tell them!”

Fuck. Eddie was hoping he could just ride this out without having to confirm or deny the story. “It was just a dream, bud.” He hates himself the moment he sees Chris’ expression crumble. 

“It was NOT!” Chris shouts, throwing the toy in his hand—thankfully a plush that simply bounces and rolls away—before getting to his feet as fast as he can so he can stalk away. 

Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his face. “Sorry,” he says. “I should go talk to him.” 

“Let me.” Helena jumps up before Eddie can react and follows Chris towards the backyard. 

After a moment, Eddie follows her. He stops in the kitchen when he sees them through the window. Chris is sobbing in his grandmother's arms, and Eddie’s stomach twists with guilt. He doesn’t know what to do, or even what he should have said; he doesn’t believe in magic or Santa, and his family would have thought he was losing it if he agreed with Chris’ story … but if it didn’t happen, how did they both remember the same details so clearly? Where had the red pajamas come from? Why was Eddie still thinking about Buck’s pink cheeks and his pink lips and the best cup of hot cocoa he had ever tasted? 

Eddie leans against the counter, head in his hands, allowing himself a moment of confused misery before he puts his game face back on and rejoins the family. His wallowing is disrupted by the sound of footsteps, and he lifts his head to find Adriana assessing him from the doorway. 

“So,” she says, coming close enough that she can speak quietly. “What was that about?"

Eddie sucks his lips in for a moment, contemplating, and then lets out a sigh and shrugs noncommittally.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t actually go to the North Pole last night.” Adriana laughs lightly, and Eddie wishes he could feel as certain of that as she does. “But um, who’s Buck? Do you have a boyfriend you haven’t told us about?”

“I don’t— I’m not—“ Eddie stutters, feeling caught out, and he knows his cheeks go pink. He hasn’t even told anyone that he’s been questioning if he’s gay, and yet somehow Adriana is here asking if he has a boyfriend as if it’s a well-known fact. She doesn’t look judgemental though, just curious and maybe a little worried. “Okay, I might be,” he says, mind flashing to images of Buck again. “But I’m not dating anyone, man, woman, or non-binary.” 

Adriana’s expression softens. “So Buck is …”

“A friend,” Eddie settles on, because he still doesn’t know what else to say. 

“And the whole North Pole thing?”

Eddie shakes his head a little. “I don’t know—I think I must have had a dream and told him about it, and maybe it confused him?”

“You know mom is going to have something to say about it,” Adriana says sympathetically. 

“How bad do you think it’s going to be?” Eddie asks. 

Adriana grimaces. “Not great.”

***

It is not, in fact, great. Helena comes inside alone a few minutes later, and it only takes a look for Adriana to make herself scarce, leaving Eddie alone with his mother.

“How is he?” Eddie asks, looking out the window at where his son is still sitting slumped in a chair, posture betraying his sadness. 

“He’s very upset right now,” Helena says. “Eddie, he seems to actually believe that you went to the North Pole last night. I’m very concerned.” 

“Mom, he’s six,” Eddie tells her defensively. “You know how kids get weird ideas in their heads sometimes.” Guilt surges through him again as he says it.

Helena purses her lips. “Nevertheless, I think it’s best if he stays here with us for a couple of days. At least until he calms down.” 

“No, absolutely not.” Eddie shakes his head emphatically. He should have expected that somehow his mother would turn this into one more reason he’s an unfit parent. “I’m going to go talk to my son, and we’ll figure it out.”

“Eddie—“ Helena starts. Eddie doesn’t hear the rest of what she says though, because he’s already halfway out the back door to his son. 

“Hey, Christopher,” Eddie says softly as he approaches his son’s hunched figure. “Can we talk?”

Chris shrugs morosely. It’s not the enthusiasm Eddie would prefer, but it’s not a no either. He crouches in front of Chris so he’s not towering above him, the way his own father always did. It always made Eddie feel so small and powerless, and he doesn’t want to make his own son feel that way. 

“I think we need to talk about last night.” 

Chris stays silent, but he tilts his head up, curious blue eyes tracking Eddie. 

“Look, Chris, there’s no such thing—“ he cuts himself off as the sick feeling of guilt threatens again. He doesn’t want to lie to his son, and he doesn’t want to ruin his six-year-old’s sense of magic and wonder either. He tries again. “There’s no reason that we need to tell people about the North Pole.”

“Why not?” Chris asks, voice still shaky and smaller than usual. 

“Well, sometimes things—big things—should remain unsaid between people …” 

“Like a secret?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Like a secret. Let’s keep it a secret.” 

“But why,” Chris asks, and it’s such a pure question—one born of true, unwavering belief—that a lump of emotion wells in Eddie’s throat. 

“You remember how we talked yesterday about how some grown ups stop believing in magic?” Eddie waits until Chris nods before continuing. “Well, it makes it hard for them to understand things like flying reindeer and Santa’s workshop, so their brains try to make sense of it by thinking about it as a story. Like a fairytale.” Buck had mentioned something about other fairytale creatures existing, so maybe that wasn’t the best example, but Eddie just hopes Chris will understand. 

“Oh,” Chris says. “But I told them it was real, and we saw it!” 

“I know bud,” Eddie reaches out and brushes Chris’ hair back off his forehead. “But sometimes people just can’t understand.”

“Because they don’t believe,” Chris says sadly. 

“That’s right.”

“But you believe, right dad?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie says, and he only feels the tiniest wave of guilt that he doesn’t even know anymore whether he’s lying or not. 

***

The rest of the winter passes relatively quietly. Chris stops talking to others about the North Pole, but at home, he’s obsessed. He wears his red and green clothes and his Christmas pajamas as often as possible, and he refuses to let Eddie put away the Christmas decorations (Eddie makes him a compromise on that one so he can at least put the tree away, but Chris gets to keep some of the smaller decorations up in his room). 

In spite of Chris’ frequent discussion about reindeer and elves and Santa, the more time spans away from Christmas, the more Eddie begins to feel like the whole thing really was a dream. The red pajamas stay tucked firmly in the back of a drawer, and it becomes increasingly easy to believe that he simply doesn’t remember where they came from—they wouldn’t be the only thing in the house that he doesn’t remember the origin of. 

With Chris keeping the North Pole talk private, things calm down with Eddie’s parents too. It’s not perfect—it never will be—but without the topic of the North Pole, they immediately lose a piece of ammunition against Eddie and his parenting, and it seems to stop them in their tracks, even if only temporarily. 

Eddie thanks a god he’s not sure he believes in anymore for the reprieve. 

Almost as if their parents easing off has made it her turn to torment Eddie, Adriana latches on to her new knowledge of Eddie’s sexuality and seems determined to get him to date. When she asks about Buck, Eddie simply says he hasn’t seen him lately. 

He tries not to let slip how irrationally hurt by it he is; he doesn’t even know if the man exists, much less how he’s doing if he does. Adriana seems to catch on anyway and immediately backs off of the topic. 

So Eddie’s life is good. It’s fine. It’s … exactly the same unfulfilling life he was living before. It’s somehow worse now though, because he was given a glimpse of a different life—perhaps not the one he imagined for himself, but certainly one that’s more special, more magical, than his real life. And a life that his son clearly wishes for—one Eddie has no possible way of giving him. 

All in all, it’s a surprise, though perhaps not an entirely unwelcome one, when FedEx knocks on the door and delivers dozens of boxes to Eddie’s house, and he opens them to reveal page upon page of names. It takes Eddie far too long a moment to figure it out, but Chris understands the moment he sees it. 

“The list!” Chris shouts excitedly. 

Eddie’s own excitement is a little more tempered, both because he still doesn’t entirely believe that any of this is happening—though admittedly, the list showing up at his house makes it seem a lot more likely—and because he knows that the list being real means that there are things he’s going to have to do with it that he doesn’t fully understand.

“How are you s’posed to know who’s naughty or nice?” Chris asks, pensive. 

Eddie shakes his head a little. “I’m not really sure. There are a lot of names on this list, and I definitely don’t know this many people!” He says, shaking his head dramatically and making Chris giggle.

They stare at the list together for a long moment, and then Chris perks up. “Buck would know what to do with it, right?”

Eddie takes in a deep breath at the sound of his name. “He probably would, but I don’t have any way of getting in touch with him.” 

“I do!” Chris declares, clattering down the hall to his bedroom. Eddie follows a few steps behind him. He watches as Chris opens the drawer of his bedside table and very carefully retrieves an ornament in the shape of a snow globe. Eddie had forgotten about its existence, and he’s not fully sure what to expect when Chris shuts his eyes tightly and shakes the ornament.

At first, nothing happens. There’s no immediate poof or portal that opens in the living room. Chris looks dejected as he realizes that Buck hasn’t simply appeared, and Eddie does his best to hide the fact that he feels the same way. Chris’ lip wobbles and he gives the ornament a look like he’s considering smashing it for lying to him. 

“What’s up, Superman?” A familiar voice asks from the kitchen doorway, and Chris’ entire demeanour changes in a second. 

“BUCK!” Chris cries, taking a few steps towards the man. Buck meets him in the middle and easily opens his arms for a hug. Chris throws himself into the hug. “What took you so long?”

Buck chuckles. “Hey, give a guy a break, I was in the middle of something important!” 

”This is important too!” Chris says. Eddie looks to the ceiling and laughs silently at his son’s antics; he can be awfully dramatic when he wants to be. 

“What’s up?” Buck asks, still looking at Chris. He’s barely glanced at Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t know what to make of it. On the one hand, he likes when people give Chris the focus he deserves, but on the other, Eddie wants Buck’s attention. He wants those blue eyes to look at him appreciatively, affectionately … shame creeps through him at that thought. He shouldn’t be trying to steal attention from his son. Besides, he barely even knows Buck—hell, he’s spent months questioning whether the guy even really existed. 

“Dad needs help with the list.” Chris explains.

“It’s not critical,” Eddie says apologetically. “I’m sorry if we pulled you away from something.”

Buck’s gaze finally lifts to meet Eddie’s, and Eddie feels pinned by it. “It’s okay,” Buck says, smiling. “I always have time for you two.” He ruffles Chris’ curls lightly, making the boy grin up at him. 

They stand there for a long, comfortable moment, all grinning at one another. Eventually, Buck breaks the silence. “So, what exactly did you need help with?”

“Oh,” Eddie says, shaking himself out of his slightly dazed state. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to figure out whether all of these people are naughty or nice. There must be millions of names on here, and I think I only know about 20 people.”

“Well, you’ll probably get to know a few more,” Buck says with a light laugh. “It’s just the nature of the job. But if you take one of the pages,” he pauses, waiting for Eddie to do as requested, “now focus on one of the names. Just one!” 

Eddie looks at the page—one from the “R” section—and picks the top name: Clarissa Robinson. He reads the name over and over, trying to keep his eyes from wandering to other names, but he doesn’t really know what’s meant to be happening. 

He’s about to ask Buck when his vision goes double like his eyes are crossed and then seems to refocus on a completely different scene. He sees a young girl, maybe 8 or 9, with dark hair in a long braid. She’s playing basketball, running down the court to get in position, when she collides accidentally with a girl from the opposing team, sending her opponent down hard. Clarissa stops immediately to check on the girl and wave over a coach, and Eddie knows innately that this girl belongs on the nice list. He blinks, and he’s back in his house with Buck and Chris watching him.

“Did it work?” Chris asks.

Eddie nods. “Yeah. I could see her and I just sort of knew.”

Buck smiles proudly at him. “You picked that up fast. And you’ll get quicker at it, I promise.”

“Try again, dad!” Chris says, sounding excited even though it can’t be that interesting to watch. 

Eddie tries again anyway. Even having only done it once before, he finds it easier to drop into the vision. The third time is even easier, and by the fourth it’s almost immediate. Not all of the visions show a child’s naughtiness or niceness as clearly as the first either, but somehow Eddie still just … knows. 

“What if I get it wrong?” he asks. 

“You won’t,” Buck promises. “As long as you listen to what your heart tells you.” Two fingers tap Eddie’s chest above his heart, making his breath catch momentarily. He has the sudden, inexplicable urge to reach up and catch Buck’s hand, to trap it against his body and hold fast. He lets it drop away instead.

Buck clears his throat quietly. “Did you need anything else before I go?” he asks after a moment, seeming to sense that the most pressing issue has been resolved. 

Eddie hesitates, wishing he had a reason to ask Buck to stay. Chris tugs on his sleeve and gestures for Eddie to lean down to him. Eddie does, not quite sure what to expect, though he’s not entirely surprised when Chris leans up on his crutches and cups Eddie’s ear with his little hand so he can whisper into it. 

Eddie glances up at Buck and smiles at the soft look on the man’s face as he watches the exchange. “I don’t know,” Eddie tells his son. “You want to ask him?”

"Do you want to have dinner with us?" Chris asks, gazing up at Buck hopefully. 

Buck's smile widens, his rosy cheeks dimpling with it. "I would love that." He ducks his head momentarily and then looks up at Eddie coyly. “As long as the boss says it’s okay for me to take the rest of the day off.”

Eddie flushes at the slightly flirtatious tone and tries to remind himself that Buck is just being nice, teasing a little but not flirting. Not really. 

“It's okay with me,” Eddie says, nodding once. “But don’t think you won’t be put to work.” 

He means it as a joke, but Buck looks at him seriously.

“Oh, did you need help with something else?” Buck asks, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to think what else Eddie might possibly need help with when he hasn’t been tasked with anything but the list. 

Eddie huffs quietly to himself at his own inability to tease and flirt. He’s never been any good at it. He rubs at the back of his neck in embarrassment, feeling the heat of his flushed skin. “No, it was … I meant it as a joke.” 

“Oh!” Buck’s expression clears immediately, eyebrows unfurrowing and smile returning, big and bright. “Well then put me to work, boss!”

“Do you want to see my room?” Chris pipes up hopefully. 

“You bet I do!” Buck enthuses. “I really hope you have some cool dinosaurs in there.” Buck’s expression is all wide-eyed innocence, and Eddie suspects immediately that he has some sort of insider knowledge about the boy’s interests. 

Chris gasps. “I have SO many!” He launches into a description of the many dinosaurs he has—proper names and all—and Buck shoots a covert wink in Eddie’s direction. 

Part of Eddie wants to follow them. Not because he doesn’t trust Buck—he trusted him almost immediately, and that hasn’t changed—but because he remembers watching the two of them together on Christmas, the way Buck had happily let Chris ramble about his interests and replied in turn, and part of him is aching at the idea of witnessing it again. But he has dinner to prepare, and besides, Chris likes to be allowed independence without Eddie hovering over his shoulder. So Eddie goes to the kitchen, letting Chris lead Buck down the hall towards his bedroom. He can hear faint voices and laughter drifting back to him as he peels and slices, preparing vegetables for roasting (because he’s learned that Chris will actually eat them that way). 

Once the food is in the oven and a timer is set, Eddie follows the chatter down the hall and leans against the doorjamb to look in at Buck and Chris. Chris has all of his dinosaurs carefully arranged on the bed, and Buck is sitting in his desk chair—comically too small for his long-legged frame—listening intently. 

“Have you made it to the herbivores yet?” Eddie asks, having heard his son’s dinosaur spiel many times. 

“We got stuck trying to figure out if this little guy,” Buck taps the head of one of the figurines, “is a t-rex or a nanotyrannus!” 

“It’s a t-rex,” Eddie says. “That’s what the label said anyway.”

“I hear you,” Buck tells him, “but do you see the length of the arms and the narrower shape of the skull compared to his buddy here?” Buck points at a slightly larger t-rex figure beside the first one. Eddie is pretty sure they look almost exactly the same, but he nods anyway. “Well, those are just two of the indications that these guys are two different species!”

Chris beams, seeming enraptured by Buck, whose knowledge of dinosaurs appears to be at least as extensive as his own. 

It makes Eddie feel a little sad. He often wishes he knew more about the topics Chris is most interested in—dinosaurs, space, sea creatures—but between working multiple jobs, cooking, getting Chris to school, and everything else, he barely has time to sleep, much less learn dinosaur facts. And any free time he does have, he would rather spend with his son.

After a little while, a timer goes off in the kitchen and Eddie peels himself away from the doorway. He hears footsteps a few minutes later, as he’s placing the vegetables back into the oven. “Did you make it through the entire dino tour?” he asks as he turns around to find Buck lingering a little awkwardly. 

Buck bobs his head in a nod. “I did.”

“I’m sure Chris was thrilled to have a new audience,” Eddie tells him, as he leans his hip against the counter. “And you actually know something about dinosaurs, unlike me.” He doesn’t mean for the words to sound so self-deprecating, but he knows his tone is a little bitter. 

“He’s a great kid,” Buck says softly, and Eddie thinks he must have picked up on Eddie’s feelings. “And he loves you so much. He made sure to tell me your favourite dinosaur as well as his own.” 

One side of Eddie’s mouth quirks up in a smile. “He’s pretty amazing. I know I’m biased, but I can’t imagine a better kid.” He pauses for a moment. “Wait, am I allowed to say that? Y’know since I’m …” he doesn’t finish the sentence. It still feels wrong to refer to himself as Santa, even if the fact of it seems pretty undeniable after the day he’s had. 

Buck gives a quiet huff of laughter. “I’m pretty sure even Santa is allowed to be biased towards his own kid.” 

“Good,” Eddie says, feeling more relieved than he expected. “That’s good.”

For probably far too long a moment, they stand at opposite ends of the small kitchen smiling at one another. Something soft and warm stirs in Eddie’s belly. Not butterflies, really, but something calmer and more languid. Comfortable. Easy. 

“Do you need any help with dinner?” Buck asks eventually.

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope! It’ll be done shortly. Maybe you can help me out with dessert though; Chris keeps asking for hot cocoa and then looking disappointed at what I produce. 

Buck ducks his head, cheeks brighter pink than usual with a pleased flush. “I’m sure I can whip something up,” he says. 

Dinner passes in easy conversation and a meal that Eddie would describe as “edible”. Chris eats a full serving of vegetables, and that’s more than enough of a win for Eddie. 

“How about some hot cocoa?” Buck asks when dinner has been cleaned up. 

Chris perks up immediately, looking at Buck excitedly. “Will you make it like you did at the North Pole? Dad always makes it wrong!”

“Ouch,” Eddie says, holding a hand to his heart. He’s laughing though. He would never admit it, but secretly he’s been mourning Buck’s recipe too, his own efforts consistently falling short of a recipe developed over a thousand years or so. 

“Do you want to help me?” Buck asks, directing the question at Chris. The boy shakes his head. Eddie can already tell he’s getting tired, and even the prospect of Buck’s hot cocoa isn’t enough to make him want to stand and move around. 

“Your legs hurting, mijo?” Eddie asks. Chris nods. “Do you want me to bring a chair in the kitchen so you can sit with Buck or do you want to go to the living room?”

Chris brightens up again. “I want to sit with Buck!” 

It’s easy enough to move a chair so Chris can join Buck, and then Eddie is summarily booted from the kitchen. “Sorry, only one Diaz can know my secrets, and I’ve already chosen!” Buck says, making Chris giggle happily. Eddie meant to argue, but Buck winked at him and all his arguments flew from his mind at once, leaving Eddie to retreat to the living room with nothing to do but consider his deeply inconvenient crush on an elf. 

It isn’t until much later, after they’ve said goodnight to Buck and Chris is in bed, that Eddie finds a note stuck on the fridge in unfamiliar handwriting. He pulls it free and reads it, finding a recipe with a list of ingredients far longer than he could have imagined would go into a mug of cocoa, and at least a couple of which he is certain do not exist in his kitchen. 

At the very bottom there’s a single sentence that isn’t part of the recipe.

I couldn’t let Chris suffer with mediocre hot cocoa when I’m not around.

Eddie adds the ingredients to his grocery list before carefully tucking the recipe into the binder that holds the small number of recipes his abuela had taught him, intent on keeping it safe.

***

Eddie tries, he does. After half a dozen or so attempts to make the cocoa following Buck’s recipe, all of which are good—great even—but not nearly as good as Buck’s, Chris takes a sip of his most recent attempt and sighs dramatically before disappearing to his bedroom. 

Eddie lets out a sigh of his own and picks up the abandoned mug, just as a voice says beside him, “Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” Eddie startles so badly that he sloshes cocoa over his hand. 

“Chris!” Eddie calls out in lieu of a response. 

“Eddie, what’s going on? Is Chris okay?”

“Apparently he thinks the fact that I don’t make cocoa as well as you do is an appropriate reason to call you away from … whatever you were doing,” Eddie explains, feeling irritated. He heads to the kitchen to clean up, Buck following hot on his heels. 

“It’s fine,” Buck says gently. “I told him he could call me anytime.”

Eddie finishes washing the sugary mess from his hand and turns to look at Buck. He looks different, Eddie thinks, and then he realizes that the man isn’t wearing his usual elf attire. Instead, he’s dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair slightly damp and curling on his forehead. If Eddie ignores the pointed ears, he could almost look … human. Like a human interrupted in the middle of his time off. 

“Christopher, can you come here please?” Eddie calls again. This time he hears Chris moving, and after a moment he appears in the hall. Eddie waits until his son is in the kitchen before he broaches the topic. “Chris, why did you call Buck?”

Chris looks away guiltily. “I just wanted his cocoa,” he says softly. “And I like when he spends time with us.”

Eddie’s heart twists at that, and all the remaining annoyance seeps out of him. How can he possibly be angry about it when he wants the same things? Eddie takes a few steps over to his son and crouches down in front of him so he can put his hands gently on Chris‘ shoulders and meet his eyes. 

“I like those things too,“ he admits. “But Buck has his own life, and we can’t just call him away from it anytime we feel like it. And you scared him—he thought something was wrong.” 

“I’m sorry,” Chris says, his eyes shiny. He looks over at Buck. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“I know you didn’t, buddy,” Buck tells him. “To be honest, I’m not used to people calling me just because they want to see me.”

Sadness rolls through Eddie at those words. Surely that can’t be true, can it? Buck is so kind, so easy to like that Eddie can't imagine not wanting him around. 

“Well, we want to see you,” Chris says with all the ease of a child who still believes that he can solve the world’s problems. “Right dad?”

“Of course,” Eddie says. He turns to find Buck, looking up, up, up to meet blue eyes from his still crouched position. “You’re always welcome here.” 

The smile that Buck gives him is soft and almost hesitant, like he doesn't believe the words but appreciates them nevertheless. Eddie gets up from his crouch and turns so he can look between Chris and Buck more easily. "How about we make a deal? Chris won't call you here without checking with me first," he gives his son a pointed look before looking to Buck, "and you can assume that unless you're getting called in the middle of the night or multiple times in a row, it's because we're inviting you over, and not because something is terribly wrong." 

"Okay," Buck says, his smile growing just a little. 

"Yeah, okay," Chris agrees. "But will you make us cocoa since you're here?" he pleads, looking at Buck. 

"Mine isn't that bad!" Eddie protests. 

Buck looks at the mugs abandoned on the counter, still half full despite Eddie's earlier mishap. "Can I try it?" Eddie waves him on. Buck makes a show of lifting the mug—the one that proclaims "#1 Dad!" in writing made to look like it was done by a child—and sniffing the contents before taking a tentative sip. He swirls the liquid around in his mouth like he's tasting an expensive wine and Chris laughs at the dramatic faces he makes as he does. Chris has always been a cheerful kid, but Eddie's not sure he's ever heard him laugh as much as he does when Buck is around. It makes another surge of feelings well up in him. The few times he's tried dating since Shannon, he's been hyperaware of how people act when they find out he has a son and when they meet Chris (if they even make it that far); of the two who met Chris, one seemed determined almost to pretend he didn't exist, and the other treated him with kid gloves, like he would break if they so much as spoke to him in more than a whisper. In both cases, the relationships had ended quickly. But Buck ... Eddie can imagine him in their lives. He and Chris get along so easily, and Buck seems to know intuitively when to give Chris space to do things on his own.

"So?" Eddie asks when Buck finally swallows. 

"Honestly? It's pretty good!" Buck says. 

"But not good enough," Eddie sighs. 

Buck shrugs apologetically. "I've had a few more years to master it." 

"Well, then you'll have to give me some lessons," Eddie tells him. He doesn't mean for it to come out as low and flirtatious as it does, and for a moment he feels the fear of rejection roil in his gut. 

But then Buck looks at him, eyes a little wide, and replies in the quietest voice Eddie has ever heard him use. "I'd like that."

***

Without them meaning for it to, it becomes a routine after that. On Thursdays, when Eddie picks Chris up directly from school rather than from his parents house, Chris asks almost as soon as they're home if he can ask Buck to come over. Every week, Eddie fights his own desire to say yes immediately, and instead makes a deal that Chris can call him as soon as he finishes his homework. The first couple of times, Eddie worries that Buck might not show up—that maybe this time he'll be busy or just not interested in spending time with them—but every week without fail Buck appears within minutes of Chris summoning him. At first he stays until Chris goes to bed, then Chris begs him to read him bedtime stories, and soon Eddie is suggesting that Buck stay for a beer once Chris is asleep just because he doesn't want Buck to leave. 

It's the happiest Eddie has ever seen Chris, and, if he's honest with himself, the happiest he's ever been too. 

The only downside is that Buck, now a consistent part of their lives, quickly stops being easily confined to the list of things they don't talk about to others. Chris is still careful not to talk about Santa or the North Pole or elves, but he can't seem to help but mention Buck. How Buck comes for dinner every week, how his dad's cooking has gotten better because Buck has been teaching him, how Buck took him to the zoo one day when Eddie had to work. 

Eddie's parents look at him disapprovingly every time Buck comes up. Ramón looks like he's holding back some sort of statement about how "queer" Eddie's new friend sounds, while Helena takes every opportunity to make it known how concerned she is that Eddie is leaving Chris alone with some stranger. 

"He's not a stranger, mom," Eddie insists. "He's my friend. And Chris loves spending time with him." He knows it doesn't really matter what he says, that his mother won't really listen anyway, but he can't help the urge to defend himself—and Buck—each and every time. 

Adriana, for her part, gives Eddie an entirely different look whenever Buck's name comes up. One that makes Eddie blush and look away because he's pretty sure she can see every thought he's had about Buck, from the most platonic and mundane, to the increasingly sappy and horny ones that have been more and more frequent of late. 

"So, is Buck still 'just a friend'?" Adriana asks when the two of them are alone in the kitchen during a late summer barbeque, her fingers making quotes in the air to show how little she believes Eddie's insistence that he isn't dating anyone, much less Buck. 

Eddie rolls his eyes but looks away, which just seems to incriminate him further.

"So why haven't you asked him out?" 

"It's complicated," Eddie tells her, knowing it's far more complicated than she could ever know or believe. It's not just that Eddie isn't out to anyone but Adriana, or that he doesn't know for sure whether Buck is interested in men. It's that Buck is an elf, that he's thousands of years old and has thousands more years to live, and that Eddie is his boss (though Eddie's still pretty sure that's more of a technicality than an actual issue, since Buck is almost certainly the one who runs everything at the North Pole, not Eddie). 

Adriana hums disbelievingly, eyebrows raised. "You deserve to be happy, you know," is what she says in reply. 

"I am," he tells her honestly. 

***

Summer slips into fall, and as Thanksgiving approaches Eddie knows that his responsibilities as Santa are about to ramp up. He frets over his schedule, trying to figure out how to juggle two jobs, his responsibilities as Santa, and taking care of his son. He knows that he'll need to arrange extra care for Chris, and he's not willing to ask his parents to watch him more than they already do, especially given that they still believe he's an unfit father at the best of times. 

Buck sees him stressing and immediately sets to work helping him find solutions. "I'll take care of as much as I can at the Pole," he says. "Aside from the 2nd, when you finally have that meeting with the council, almost everything else is flexible. We'll fit it in around whatever else you need to do." 

"What I need," Eddie says irritably, "is to be able to pay my rent, take care of my son, and not give my parents more reason to think that Chris would be better off living with them." He knows that Buck doesn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his annoyance, but he's stressed, and he can't seem to moderate the tone of his voice. 

"Hey," Buck says gently. "We're going to figure this out, okay? You know you can always bring Chris with you." 

"I know,” Eddie says with a sigh. “But how will I even fit in all the extra Santa responsibilities if I can’t take time off work? I can barely afford the rent on this place as it is.”

"I might be able to help with that," Buck tells him. "I mean, not me personally, but …" 

"What do you mean?" Eddie asks, eyes narrowing. He's not willing to take anything from Buck. 

"Well, Santa is an honorary position, right?" Eddie nods. He knows that it's not exactly a standard career path. "Well, there's a stipend that you'll get at the beginning of December? It's not a lot—not enough to live on or anything, since most Santas eventually move up to the Pole and live there—but it might be enough to take some of the pressure off?" 

In the end, it's not enough that Eddie can give up working. Not by a long shot. But it is enough that he can quit the shittier of his jobs and still be able to make ends meet for at least a couple of months before he has to find something else. Maybe enough that he can finally consider what kind of career he really wants, rather than just living in a constant survival state. 

He hugs Buck tightly when they figure it all out, thanking him profusely in a choked voice that hardly feels like his own. Buck hugs him back just as tightly, and Eddie lets himself revel in the warmth of it. 

***

Eddie wakes up on December 1st after a fitful night's sleep. His shoulder pops as he stretches, and his entire being feels just a little out of sorts. He chalks it up to the lack of decent shut-eye, right up until he walks into the bathroom and catches sight of an unfamiliar man in the mirror. He lets out a startled shout before rushing the few steps forward to examine his reflection more closely. His normally dark hair is stark white, his stubble grown into a full beard, and his normally slim build has filled out in ways that simply shouldn't be possible overnight. 

"What the hell?" he mutters to himself. 

"That's a bad word," he hears Chris say sleepily from the hall behind him. 

"Sorry, Chris, you're right," Eddie says, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart as he turns to face his son. 

"Woah, you look like Santa!"

Eddie lets out a short laugh. "Yeah, bud, I guess I do." 

"Are we going to the North Pole today?" Chris asks, still sounding sleepy but excited.

"First," Eddie tells him, "you are going to school, and I am going to work." Chris lets out a big huff of annoyance and Eddie can't help but smile. "But after school, yes. We'll be there all weekend, remember?"

Chris brightens up at that. "And we'll get to see Buck, right?" 

Eddie's smile grows, matching his son's. They had to skip their usual Thursday dinner so Buck could get things ready for them at the Pole, and both Chris and Eddie were suffering for the lack of it. "Yeah, we'll get to see Buck." 

The day drags until Eddie gets off work at 4 and rushes across town to pick Chris up from his parents' house. 

"Eddie, what in the world happened?" Helena demands as soon as she opens the door to him. Eddie sighs; he's been fielding variations of the question all day, and it's left him feeling irritated and frustrated, with no answer he can give that will satisfy the curiosity. 

"I'm trying out something new," he says, only halfway successful at couching his sarcastic tone. He's grateful when Chris appears behind his mother then. "Hey kiddo," he says to his son. "You ready to go?" 

"Yeah!" Chris cheers, seemingly nonplussed by whatever is transpiring between his dad and his abuela. 

Eddie shuffles him out the door, ignoring his mother's demands that he explain what's going on. "We have to get going, mom," Eddie calls back to her with false cheer as he opens the car door for Chris. "We'll see you on Monday, okay?" And then he climbs into the car and takes off, leaving Helena gaping at the empty driveway.

"Abuela is going to be mad, isn't she?" Chris asks, fidgeting a little where Eddie can see him in the rearview.

"Probably," Eddie agrees. "But I don't think she would have accepted any easy explanations for my new look." 

"Oh ... yeah." Chris sounds resigned. "I wish she wasn't always so mad at you." 

Eddie's heart twists a little. "Me too." 

They're quiet the rest of the drive home. 

Buck is waiting for them in the living room when they arrive, and his eyes flash with amusement and something else—something Eddie can't quite identify before it's gone again—when he catches sight of Eddie. "Well hey there Santa," he says, grinning. 

"I take it you knew this would happen?" Eddie asks, noting Buck's lack of surprise. Buck shrugs in faux innocence. "And you couldn't give a guy a little warning?" 

"It's more fun this way," Buck says. "Besides, it'll only last through Christmas." He hops down off the arm of the couch where he had been perched and takes a few steps towards Chris and Eddie. "You two ready?"

Within minutes, they've gathered their necessary items, and Buck is taking one of each of their hands in his so he can transport them to the North Pole. The sensation isn't unlike the swooping stomach and slight disorientation that Eddie recalls from traversing chimneys nearly a year earlier, and as soon as his vision stops swimming he's looking for Chris so he can check on him. Buck is already there, though, gently steadying Chris and making sure he's okay, telling him it gets easier with time. 

They spend the evening settling in, eating good food and drinking hot cocoa and watching Christmas movies that make Buck smile and scoff in equal measure. Eddie grins each time Buck comments on inaccuracies, leading Chris to ask question upon question. Between the two of them, Eddie doesn’t think he hears a single word of Elf, but he would happily give up ever hearing a movie again if he could watch them all with his two favourite people. 

The weekend is a blur of “Santa work”, as Eddie has taken to calling it in his head, and pure joy. He spends a couple of hours on Saturday afternoon getting to know the members of The Council of Legendary Figures, which includes everyone from Mother Nature and Father Time to Cupid and the Tooth Fairy, the last of whom surprises Eddie by being a man who insists on being called “Chimney” but refuses to explain why. It’s by far the strangest meeting Eddie has ever attended. It’s also the best meeting he has ever attended, full of people who seem to genuinely like one another, even though they bicker. 

It feels like a family, one Eddie feels grateful to be part of. 

***

The rest of December is a whirlwind. Even with just the one job to contend with, Eddie feels the stress of trying to be everything for everyone, and it wears on him. 

His mother refuses to let up even a little, her commentary on his life choices constant and unwavering. She questions how he can make do without the income from the second job, and doesn’t seem appeased no matter how many times Eddie explains that he and Chris are fine. That he’ll be looking for something else in the new year. 

He doesn’t tell them that he’s been talking to his tia and his abuela in LA and is considering leaving El Paso. 

He tells Adriana though. She looks like she’s going to cry when he first says it, and Eddie gets it. The idea of leaving is terrifying, and a year ago it had seemed unthinkable. But he’s done a lot of things in the past year that he never could have predicted or even imagined.

“By the way, what’s with the Santa look?” she asks, voice all curiosity and no judgement. “You let Chris talk you into it or something?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Adri,” Eddie says seriously.

“Try me.”

For a moment Eddie considers before deciding he’s got nothing to lose. “You’ll remember last Christmas when Chris was telling that story about me being the new Santa?” 

“Yeah,” Adriana says curiously. 

“It was true.” 

Adriana laughs, bright and loud and disbelieving. “Okay, don’t tell me.”

Eddie sighs, but he forges on. “That reminds me, can Chris stay with you guys on Christmas Eve? I have to work, and I think he’d have more fun with his cousins than with mom and dad.” 

“You have to work?” Adriana asks incredulously. 

Eddie nods. It’s the one thing he truly hates about being Santa—missing out on Christmas Eve with his son. “I’ll pick him up first thing, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Adriana says. “Of course, Eddie.”

Chris is less than thrilled at the plan for him to spend Christmas Eve anywhere but with his dad. “I know, mijo,” Eddie tells him. “I don’t like it either, but you know I have to.”

“But I’ll miss you too much,” Chris says, his lip wobbling as he tries to hold back tears. 

“Oh, kiddo,” Eddie bundles his son into a hug, “I’m going to miss you so much, you know that? But there’s a lot of kids out there—millions of kids—counting on me. I can’t let them down.”

“I know,” Chris mumbles. “But why can’t I come with you like last year?” 

“Chris, you know that’s not how it works. I need to not be worrying about you while I’m out there.” Chris grips him tighter, and Eddie thinks he understands. “I promise I’ll be safe, okay. A team has been working all year on safety equipment. Besides, I’ll have Buck watching out for me. And you know he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

“You promise?” 

Eddie squeezes his son tightly before releasing him so he can look him in the eyes when he repeats, “I promise.”

***

“Hey Adri,” Eddie says as he opens the door to his sister on the afternoon of December 24th. “Chris is just grabbing his bag. Thank you again for taking him.”

“Anytime, you know that,” Adriana says, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder affectionately. Eddie puts his hand over his sister’s and returns the squeeze before letting go. 

Chris emerges from his room with his backpack on, pajamas and other necessities carefully packed inside. 

“You all set?” Adriana asks him. 

Chris nods unhappily. “Come here,” Eddie says, opening his arms for a hug. Chris nearly falls into him, hugging him as tightly as his little arms allow. “I promise I’ll be safe,” Eddie whispers to him. 

“Hey, Eddie?” Buck’s voice echoes from down the hall, interrupting Eddie’s attempt to shuffle his sister and son out the door. “We’ve got to get going.”

“Who is that?” Adriana asks, just as Chris calls out, “BUCK!”

“Hey, Superman!” Buck says as he comes into view. 

Adriana is staring, mouth agape and eyes wide as she takes in the six foot two man in full elf ensemble. It doesn’t help that he’s just appeared from what probably seems to be Eddie’s bedroom, or that Chris immediately threw himself into the man’s arms. Eddie scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment as sister looks between the two of them in clear shock. 

“This is Buck?” Adriana asks.

“That would be me!” Buck says cheerfully. “Nice to meet you, Adriana!” 

“Sorry to rush you,” Buck says as soon as Chris has let him go, “but we really do need to go.”

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie says. “Actually, just one second!” he dashes to the Christmas tree in the living room and finds one of the gifts. “I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but you should open it now.” He passes the carefully wrapped box to his sister.

Adriana takes it and uses one of her long nails to rip into the paper. It’s only halfway unwrapped when she stops, a gasp leaving her lips. “Jewel Hair Mermaid Barbie?” she says. “I wanted one of these so badly when I was little. I asked Santa for one, but I never got it.”

Eddie sees the moment she makes the connection, her eyes going big and bright as she looks at him, then to Buck, and then back to him. “Oh my god,” she says, “it really is you. You’re Santa.”

Eddie shrugs apologetically. “Yeah,” he says. “And I’m sorry to drop that on you and run, but we really do have to go.” He can practically feel Buck vibrating with the need to keep things on schedule. 

“Of course!” Adriana says, looking like she’s trying to hold back tears. She dashes in and hugs Eddie quickly, taking a brief moment to whisper “he’s cute” into his ear before she pulls away and bustles Chris out the door. “See you tomorrow, Santa,” she calls before disappearing into her car.

***

Distributing gifts is easier the second time around. It’s also easier with safety improvements—mostly meant to make sure Eddie doesn’t meet the same fate as his predecessor—and with a new earpiece that lets him be in touch with Buck the entire time, so he’s not just relying on the reindeer to know where to go. The previous Santa had been a bit old school—which Eddie thinks is fair when you’ve been doing a job for a couple hundred years—but Eddie is happy to embrace every improvement he’s offered, especially if it means having Buck in his ear all night telling him where he’s off to next. 

As much as Eddie enjoys creating the magic of Christmas, it’s a relief when he hears Buck’s voice in his ear telling him, “That’s a wrap. Tell the reindeer to come on home!”

“Comet, you know what to do!” Eddie calls, knowing the reindeer are already taking him exactly where he needs to be.

“Good job, Santa,” Buck tells him as he climbs from the sleigh. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Eddie says, watching a smile bloom on Buck’s face. He wants to kiss that smile, but not in this chaotic room full of elves and reindeer and noise. “Walk me back to my room?” 

Buck looks around, like he’s checking that everything is under control. “Yeah,” he says, once he’s satisfied, “okay.” 

When they’re tucked away in Eddie’s quiet quarters, Eddie digs into the bag he brought with him, finding a box wrapped in Elf paper and holding it carefully out of view as he returns to Buck. 

“So there’s actually one last gift I need to deliver,” he says.

Buck’s eyebrows draw together. “The tracker said we were at 100% gift delivery.” 

Eddie can practically see Buck wracking his brain for possible missed deliveries. Eddie lets his eyes drop closed for a moment, letting out a laugh once again as his own ineptitude with romantic gestures. “No, I mean … the one isn’t a Santa gift, it’s an Eddie gift,” he says by way of explanation. When he opens his eyes, Buck looks freshly confused, so Eddie pulls the box out from behind his back and holds it out. “This is for you.” 

Buck takes the box tentatively. “I didn’t get you anything,” he says.

“Just open it, okay?” 

Buck unwraps the gift with a kind of reverence that Eddie knows it doesn’t deserve. When Buck finally pulls the lid off the box, he doesn’t look any less confused. 

“Eddie,” he says, pulling a sprig of mistletoe out of the box. “I appreciate it, but you know this stuff is basically a weed here, right?” 

Eddie laughs. He can’t help it. “Yeah, I did notice that,” he says. “But you know what it means to humans, right?” 

Buck looks at the sprig in his hand again and then back to Eddie, his cheeks turning extra rosy. “Oh!”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He rubs a hand across his face. “You know, this was so romantic in my head,” he confesses. 

Buck is staring at him now, pink lips parted just slightly as his tongue darts out to wet them. 

“Buck, you’ve been such a big part of my life—and Christopher’s life—this past year,” Eddie says, trying to find the right words. “Ever since we met you, everything has been … better. I don’t want to do life without you, and neither does my kid—he’s happier when you’re around, and so am I.”

Buck’s eyes look glassy when Eddie meets them again. “So that?” he gestures at the mistletoe, still clutched between Buck’s fingers. “It’s basically an open offer. Whatever you want is yours.” 

Buck hesitates for just a second, just long enough to place the sprig in the box and set it down on the nearest surface, before he launches himself at Eddie. The moment their lips meet, it feels like magic. Like being made of champagne, fizzy and sparkly and bright. 

“I never wrote a letter to Santa,” Buck says when they finally separate. 

“What?” Eddie asks, completely at a loss. 

“I never wrote a letter,” Buck repeats, “but somehow you still knew that the one thing I wanted and never got was people who wanted me around.”

Eddie’s heart breaks and warms all at once and he surges forward to kiss Buck again.

“Speaking of people who want you around,” Eddie says minutes later, when Buck has probably all but forgotten what he had said. “Want to come with me to pick Chris up? Maybe spend Christmas with us?” 

Buck smiles, sweet and soft. “Only if the boss thinks he can spare me.” 

***

Hours later, after delighting Adriana with the sight of him and Buck, hands clasped together, on her doorstep. After a joyful Christmas morning as a trio and a conversation with Chris about moving in the new year. After shocking his parents not only by showing up on their doorstep holding hands with a man, but also by proceeding to announce that he and Chris would be leaving El Paso for California. After the subsequent more-than-characteristically tense family gathering. After he and Buck had taken a half-asleep Chris home and tucked him into bed. 

After all of those things and more, Eddie leads Buck down the hall to his bedroom, closing the door behind them. Buck kisses him, softer than any of their previous kisses, like he knows just how exhausted Eddie must be. Eddie can only assume Buck is just as tired. 

“Come on,” Eddie says, tugging gently on Buck’s hand. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

Eddie stares at himself in the bathroom mirror while he brushes his teeth, wondering if the Santa looks will disappear just as quickly as they arrived. If he’ll wake up in 8 hours looking like his everyday self.

“You know,” he says out loud as he returns to the bedroom to find Buck sitting up against the headboard, “I sort of wish I had waited a couple more days before doing this.” He waves a finger back and forth between the two of them in demonstration. 

“Why’s that?” Buck asks.

“Because I think I would have liked to look like myself the first time I kissed you.”

Buck’s eyes sparkle a little mischievously. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like this look.”

“Oh, do you now?” Eddie asks, climbing into the bed beside Buck.

“Yeah.” Buck tells him, voice low. “I was always a little jealous that mommy was the only one who got to kiss Santa Claus.” 

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “What?”

“You know, like the song,” Buck explains. 

“You know that song is about seeing your mom kiss your dad, who is dressed as Santa, right?”

“What?” Buck asks, looking distressed. “Man, humans are so weird.”

“So, to be clear,” Eddie asks,  “you don’t want to kiss your dad, right?”

Buck’s entire face screws up in disgust. “Ew, no! I want to kiss my hot boyfriend who sometimes looks like hot Santa.”

“That, I think we can do,” Eddie says, and he leans over to kiss Buck again.