Archive of Our Own

The Christmas Tree

“FUCK!”

Frank tossed aside the snow shovel and kicked at the drift alongside the driveway that just kept blowing back over where he’d cleared. In front of him, the picturesque forest road that wound its way up to the cabin was completely covered to the point of disappearing. Just the day before, the ground had been mostly bare and almost unseasonably warm. The weather man had been predicting that the blizzard would miss them all week until the day that they were supposed to go home. Now, it looked like their stay would have to be extended. With a heavy sigh, he had to finally acknowledge that even if they could make it to the highway, the roads there probably weren’t too much better. He grabbed the shovel and headed back to the cabin, not exactly happy about having to tell his boyfriend that they were going to be stuck in the sticks for a bit longer—and over Christmas nonetheless.

Hanging his coat and dropping his boots in the mudroom, Frank tried to figure out the best way to break the news. He shoved a few more logs in the old fashioned wood stove in the center of the cabin before heading up the stairs to the massive loft. Much to his delight, Matt was still sprawled naked beneath the sheets on his stomach. His eyes were closed but he smiled when Frank sat on the edge of the bed.

“Take off those wet clothes and get your ass in this bed,” Matt murmured huskily as he folded back the covers next to him.

Frank chuckled. “I’m basically a block of ice, Red. You sure you want me in bed with you?”

“I have a few ideas on how to get you warm,” the blind man teased. He rolled on his back revealing an already half-hard cock, leaving no room for what those ideas were. “Besides if we’re stuck here we might as well enjoy it.”

Frank paused midway through dropping his pants. “How’d you know?”

“I pulled up the weather report on my phone. Also, I’m pretty sure Canada could hear you cussing out there, and I had a good guess as to why,” Matt added with a chuckle.

Frank slid into bed, reveling in the feel of Red’s warm flesh against his own chilled skin. The smaller man shivered as his wrapped himself around Frank and began kissing along Frank’s frozen ears.

“If this is what you’ve got planned for us until things thaw out,” Frank said contentedly, “Let it snow, let it snow.”

Matt straddled Frank’s hips with a wide grin. “Oh, I’ve got quite a few things planned...”

Just as he was about to start acting out a bit more of his “plans,” a knock sounded at the door. Both men groaned in unison, but it was Frank who made it to his feet first. He yanked on his sweat pants and shirt before barreling down the stairs. He had a good idea who was at the door and didn’t put it passed their unwanted visitor to simply stroll into the cabin.

As Frank had suspected, Irv—the man they’d rented the cabin from—was standing in the mudroom pulling off a ski mask to reveal his white hair and bushy beard. “I warned you boys that you shoulda headed out last night,” he said by way of greeting. “My hip always knows!”

“Yeah, shoulda listened,” Frank agreed flatly. He leaned against the door frame, blocking the older man’s way into the cabin just in case Matt was still nude in the open loft. “How the hell’d you make it out here in this weather?”

“Snowmobile. Don’t have a sleigh to go along with the beard just yet, but I do have quite a few goodies strapped to a sled for you,” Irv announced chuckling at his own joke. “Carol-Anne was just convinced you boys didn’t have enough food to last through the storm. Went on quite a spree through our cellar and even whipped up a batch of chilli for you boys.”

Irv and Carol-Anne were the grandparents of an old war buddy of Frank’s. When Frank had called about the cabin, the pair had absolutely refused to take so much as a red cent for their stay. It didn’t surprise him in the least that the old woman had sent her husband out in the storm with supplies for them, nor did it surprise him that said husband didn’t seem to mind one bit. They were the type of people who went out of their way for others on a regular basis without thinking too much of it.

“Good morning, Irv,” Matt called from behind Frank. “I’ll get a pot of coffee going, if you’ll have some.”

Letting his guard down, Frank moved aside from the doorway. “I’m already warmed up...I can go grab the stuff off the sled,” he offered, knowing full well that Irv would rather cut his tongue out than ask for the help even though his bad hip had to be hurting like a son of a bitch.

Outside, Frank’s mouth nearly dropped open at the sight of two giant totes tied to the sled, each brimming with god only knew what. He hefted the first one up and nearly stumbled backwards under the weight. Carol-Anne obviously thought she was feeding the entire Marine Corps through a whole fucking war, but he wasn’t going to complain too much. Without her generosity, they probably would have been eating eggs and instant oatmeal until the weather broke.

By the time he made it inside with the second box, Irv had planted himself on a stool at the breakfast bar and didn’t seem to have any intention on leaving soon. With his old wrinkled hands around a full cup of coffee, he had launched into a story about his Navy days. Matt, to his credit, was doing a good job of keeping a polite smile glued to his lips as his sipped his own coffee while Frank went about putting the food away, only half listening. Beneath boxes of cereal, Frank uncovered a tin full of homemade cookies and an assortment of what appeared to be ornaments.

“What’s this for?” he asked, holding up a string of lights.

Irv grinned. “Carol-Anne figured you’d want to cut yourselves a tree and trim it to make the place feel festive. Woman shoulda married a damn elf for as much as she loves Christmas.”

“Uh...” Frank drawled, trying to think of a polite way of refusing.

“Cut a tree?” Matt mused wistfully. “Like in the old movies? The one Dad and I used to put up was basically a pipe-cleaner on a stand.”

Frank managed not to cuss or roll his eyes at the thought of hiking back out into the snow. “Mind if we borrow the sled for a bit? I don’t feel like dragging the son of a bitch back,” he muttered.

Less than twenty minutes later, Frank and Matt were seated on the snowmobile heading out to where Irv said he’d planted trees just for the occasion. Thankfully, the handle grips and seats were heated and did a damned good job of keeping them warm despite the wind. Just over a ridge, Frank spotted a small corpse of scotch pines. He pulled up alongside them and shut the snowmobile off. Part of him was hoping that when Matt took off his helmet that he’d call off the whole thing, but he looked enthralled—which almost made it worth freezing his ass off, in Frank’s book.

Matt took a few tentative steps forward, still smiling widely. “I bet it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Frank agreed, setting aside his helmet and reaching for the hatchet he’d secured to the sled. He’d long ago given up on trying to fill in the blanks left by Matt’s blindness. He was shit at giving descriptions that were anything more than functional, and Matt always seemed content to paint his own mental pictures where his senses left off.

“Between the wind and the snow, it’s almost impossible for me to get a bearing,” he admitted. He held out a gloved hand toward Frank and waited patiently for his boyfriend to offer his arm. “Any of the trees look just right for the Castle-Murdock family Christmas?”

Frank eyed the trees for a moment before answering. “They all look about the same to me, Red. A few of them at too small to bother with, but the others are mostly about six or seven foot or so.”

“So what all goes into picking a good live tree anyway? I’ve only ever had the fake ones.” Matt’s smile only wavered slightly.

“I guess nice and full. On the lots, we used to have to check if they were fresh enough that the needles wouldn’t fall off on day one, but these will be fine. Other than that… It was always Maria’s job to pick the tree and decorate it. I was just around for the heavy lifting and to put the star on,” Frank explained, thinking back to all of the Christmases he had in his old home. The sting in his heart hurt a fuck ton more than the frigid air cutting against his skin ever could.

“We could skip this...” Matt suggested as he pulled Frank in for a hug.

“Nah,” Frank disagreed. “We’re here now. That counts for something.”

They walked through the trees for a few minutes aimlessly before Matt suddenly paused. He reached out to his left and ran his gloved fingers over the branches of one particularly scrawny looking pine. “This one smells amazing. How does it look?” he asked.

Frank somehow managed not to roll his eyes. “Like Charlie fucking Brown picked it himself.”

Rather than being annoyed with the description, Matt’s grin widened. “Sounds like our tree.”

The tree didn’t look any better in the cabin, either. Irv had the stand ready when they got back, and the old man eyed the tree incredulously for a moment before shrugging and starting on the lights. As Frank had mentioned earlier, the thing did bear a striking resemblance to Charlie Brown’s sad little Christmas tree. The branches were sparse and there was a good sized gap to one side that all the tinsel in the world couldn’t cover. Maria would have wrinkled her nose at the sight of it, but Matt seemed happy with his choice. He kept commenting on how festive the cabin smelled. To Frank, the place now smelled like a god damned cab. Matt unpacked the ornaments from the box, running his fingers over each one before handing it to Frank to be placed among the branches. Of course, the fact that Frank didn’t give two shits about making the thing look pretty wasn’t helping matters. By the time the tree men finished, the tree no longer looked like it was Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree, but one chosen by a blind man and decorated by one who didn’t care. Irv had given the tree one last look over before he left and muttered something about it being the ugliest fucking tree he had ever seen on his way out the door.

Once they were alone again, the pair settled on the oversized couch with bowls of five alarm chili and a large blanket draped over them as they ate. Matt was still wearing that sappy smile of his and was bathed in the light of the twinkle lights, making him all the more irresistible. The second he set aside his bowl, Frank was pulling him into his lap.

“Sure you don’t mind being stuck here until the storm breaks?” Frank asked, kissing Matt’s throat.

“Not at all,” Matt replied breathlessly. “If I really thought we could avoid real life forever, I would be praying to the snow gods. This is the happiest I’ve been in a while.”

“Me too.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind putting up the tree?” Matt asked in return.

Frank paused. He’d done damn good job of pushing aside all of this thoughts of before until that moment—well, that wasn’t exactly true. There had been a little voice in the back of his mind calling him a traitor for even trying to enjoy Christmas without his family. This wasn’t the first Christmas since he’d lost them, nor was it even the first Christmas he’d been with Matt. This was, however, the first Christmas they had done more than marginally acknowledge the holiday. Hell, that was the reason he’d specifically gotten the cabin prior to the actual holiday itself. It had been a nice way to separate himself from all of the build up back home. Letting out a heavy sigh, Frank let his gaze land back on the tree. Oddly enough, there was something soothing about the sight.

“I am,” he replied finally. “I want to make new memories with you, Red. I can’t block out all of the shit from before, and god help me, I’m not sure I would even if I could. But I want to start traditions of our own. The tree was as good of a place to start as any.”

Matt’s lips quirked upwards once more and he leaned in for a deep, searing kiss. “I love you, Frank Castle.”

“Love you, too, Red.”