Chapter Text
“Darling, I have returned!” Eames shouted as he fell through the doorway to his and Arthur’s apartment, laden down with approximately eight dozen shopping bags. “I hope I got everything we need.”
Arthur stared at him, dumbfounded. “For what?”
Eames did a slight double take. “For Hanukkah, Arthur. In a few hours from now? At sundown?”
“Oh, I didn’t realize it started tonight,” Arthur mused. “I don’t have any plans this year. I don’t tend to be terribly observant on my own.”
“Or, are you more Jew-ish, darling?” Eames asked, clearly amused with himself.
“Don’t think you’re not the thousandth person to come up with that joke,” Arthur replied. “Besides, I still know more than you do. What have you even bought?”
“I am shocked that you would doubt my knowledge, Arthur. I’ll have you know that I have a doctorate from Oxford in – “
“A forged doctorate.”
“Well, yes, but that’s besides the point. I am extremely well prepared for the next eight nights, and you will just have to celebrate them, too, because you love me.”
“Well…” Arthur began, a teasing lilt suddenly taking over his voice, before Eames shut him up with a quick kiss.
“Would you do this with me, though? I know that it’s a difficult year, but I think that means we should make some new traditions together, to honor the old ones?”
Arthur nodded, and let Eames pull him into a tight hug. It had been around ten months since Arthur’s grandmother had passed away, but the loss had been feeling more poignant as of late, since he’d spent every December except for this one with her, at her home back in the states. He didn’t have to tell Eames. Eames knew.
And Eames, bless him, sensing that he was about to turn from wistful to mournful, started to dance him around their living room, still wrapped up tight in his arms, moving them around in circles until they lost their balance and fell onto the couch.
“Okay,” Arthur whispered again, and kissed him gently on the nose.
++
“So, what did you buy, anyway?” Arthur asked after closing his eyes for a few minutes – he didn’t nap, okay? – to reset a little.
“Well, I was actually at a bit of a loss, but I think I have the basics,” Eames said, getting up to retrieve his purchases from the doorway. “I got candles, though, but I wasn’t sure which size, really.”
Arthur burst out laughing as he rummaged through the tote bag that Eames had handed to him. “Eames, did you buy out the entire aisle?”
“I said I wasn’t sure,” Eames began, a bit defensively, as Arthur doubled over and started to empty the bag out onto the coffee table. There was a collection of enormously wide scented candles – vanilla – first, slightly yellow-gold in color. Next, birthday cake candles, pink and blue striped. Then, a candle that proclaimed to be scented like the (admittedly luscious, at least according to Arthur) prime minister of Canada. And, finally, a whole set of candles shaped like the numbers one through eight, white with rainbow polka dots on them.
“Oh, Eames, have you ever seen a picture of a menorah, even?”
“I might have just been guessing. But at least I was thorough. There’s eight, though; I at least got that right!”
Arthur hit him playfully on the shoulder with the Justin Trudeau candle. “We need nine,” he corrected. “Eight for each night of the festival, and then one shamash – that’s the helper that you use to light the other candles.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay, we can use the birthday candles; that was a pack of ten, wasn’t it?”
Eames nodded. “What ever will we do with the others?”
Arthur raised an eyebrow and gave Eames the closest look to a leer that he had. “We’ll think of something.” He suddenly paused and then got up and began to rustle around in the closet. “I’m pretty sure I have the menorah that she gave me back when I went off to college, actually. I’ve never used it, though, because I always spent Hanukkah with her.”
“It seems like a good time to start,” said Eames. “Show it to me?”
The menorah, held in a somewhat dusty blue velvet box, was a simple silver one. “Where should we put it, darling?”
“We can rest it on the coffee table,” Arthur replied. “I’ll light it tonight, but you can try it later, once you’ve copied the blessings onto your palm to read.”
“It’s a plan,” Eames agreed, grinning so widely that Arthur couldn’t help but smile in return. They settled together on the couch and snuggled under the blankets, waiting for sundown.