Work Text:
And it's like snow at the beach, weird, but fuckin' beautiful. Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful.
You wanting me tonight feels impossible.
Buck slid into one of the cheap plastic chairs that had been set up in the school’s gymnasium. He was packed in among other parents, waiting for the Abigail Adams Holiday Fest to begin. Eddie was snacking on popcorn beside him, munching excitedly as they waited for the curtains to open. A few years ago Chris had been a part of the pageant, but now, he was older, and the high schoolers were reading essays they had written in their creative writing class. Buck figured it would be easier to digest than a bunch of seven year olds walking around a stage in hand-me-down costumes forgetting their lines. He leaned over, stealing some of the popcorn that Eddie was hogging. He earned a scowl for it, but it was worth it for a few bites of salty goodness. Ever since Eddie and Chris had come back from Texas, Buck and Eddie had been suspended in a weird little bubble. They both knew something had changed, but Buck didn’t know what Eddie was thinking. Something told him Eddie couldn’t tell what he was thinking either. So they’d been caught in a confusing dance, avoiding each other at home and in the fire station, until Chris asked Buck if he was still coming to the AAHF (Abigail Adams Holiday Fest… some things were just better left un-acronymed). Buck had told him that he wouldn’t miss it, and then his eyes flickered to Eddie, like his best friend would tell him he couldn’t go. Buck had been ignoring any feelings that he had for Eddie for so long that he’d realized that somewhere along the way he’d just started ignoring Eddie. Now, he didn’t know how to go back to being just friends, how did he used to talk to him? How did he used to joke with him? He’d tried asking Ravi how to talk to friends, but then Ravi had confessed that he’d also fallen in love with his best friend, so that was no help.
Buck stared as the red velvet curtain swayed a few inches above the stage, moving every time someone walked behind it. He was acutely aware of Eddie’s knee pressing against his in the two open seats they’d found by the front of the stage. He didn’t want to say he was waiting for this to be over, but part of him just wished they would skip to the part where Chris walked out and read his paper. Neither him, nor Eddie had heard it yet, so he was excited to hear it. He just couldn’t say he was as excited to sit through the rest of the grades present for hours.
The lights in the gymnasium dimmed (as much as 20 year old bulbs could dim) and then the curtain pulled open and there was a five year old on the stage.
“How the Grouch stole Hanukkah.”
🦌🛷
“Mary had the baby right there, in the barn, with the animals. It was gross actually, and I can’t believe they didn’t have AirBnb’s back then. Or a hotel. My daddy owns a hotel chain and I told him he should have had one in Bethlehem." The 8 year old spitfire, who had her hair pulled into space buns and the mic held in her hand like she was about to chuck it into the audience, crossed her legs as she sat on the stage and barely glanced down at the script in front of her. “Anyway, then Jesus was born, and lemme tell you folks, this was like, top 5 greatest things that ever happened. As you probably know, because he's famous. Anyway, what a man. Part man, part God. If you’re watching this play right now, and you’re an atheist, I suggest you cover your ears during this part cuz we ‘bout to prove you wrong and my mom says not to correct adults. So then a bunch of angels came down from Heaven and told the shepherds that a baby had been born and that everyone needed to get the hecka over there. The shepherds took their sheep with them and lowkey hightailed it to the barn. They were on their knees praising Jesus, and then the Wise Men, following their star- they didn’t have google maps back then- also came to the stable. They brought Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh. You can see now, the three wise men walking up the center aisle with their gifts. The guy in the repurposed ketchup costume’s name is Frank so we made him be the Frankincense. Isn’t that actually hilarious? I didn’t stop laughing for like five minutes.”
Buck turned to see three young boys waltz down the center aisle holding the hands of three other boys who were dressed up as Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. Frank waved to people as he passed, a small blush in his cheeks.
“Sooo that’s the end, yay, at Easter we’ll perform the death of Jesus, which again, if you’re an atheist, you may want to skip. Thank you, everyone bow now.” Margaret waited as everyone bowed and then she turned to the audience and blew confetti off her palm. “Good night.”
The curtain closed faster than Buck had ever seen it, and the audience fell into whispering. Buck turned to see Eddie’s eyebrows high on his forehead. “That was like the best pageant I’ve ever seen.” Buck whispered, and Eddie nodded, a laugh caught in his throat.
“Chris was telling me about how he and Maggie are best friends, now I can see why, they both have enough sass to light up fireworks.” Eddie was still laughing when the curtains opened again and there was a line of children, Chris sitting at the end. The audience started clapping again and the first girl walked up to the mic.
“Hello, all. I hope you enjoyed the middleschooler’s pageant. To any atheists offended by Maggie… I don’t give a mierda. Anyway, please enjoy Mrs. Deyanda’s Creative Writing Class reading their Holiday Essays. Starting with Perrywinkle “Perry” Calvin.”
Everyone clapped as a white haired girl walked up to the microphone and began reading. Buck turned to Eddie, his face frozen in an expression of shock. He hadn’t learned as much Spanish living with Eddie and Chris as he thought he would, but he had learned a bit. At least enough to know what mierda meant. Eddie’s eyes flickered to Buck but he just looked impressed. Maybe that the girl was still on stage after she’d sworn. Maybe the school was just used to it by now. The teenager’s papers went by fast enough, each of them answering a different prompt question until they got to Christopher. Buck and Eddie clapped louder than anyone else in the gymnasium as he stood at the podium.
“Here we go!” Buck whispered excitedly, and then Chris cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.
“Hello, my name is Christopher Diaz, and today, I will be answering this question: What do the holidays mean to me?” He paused, took a deep breath, found Buck and Eddie in the audience, and then continued with a smile on his face. Buck and Eddie both must have recognized the evil grin at the same time because they shifted uncomfortably like they were going to try to stop Chris as his first sentence rang out throughout the room.
“The holiday season, what it means, and how to survive it when your mom is dead.”
Buck recoiled like he’d been bitten, and Eddie just dropped his head into his hands and whispered, “mierda… “
🦌🛷
2 weeks ago
“Attention, class! 2 weeks from now is our Holiday Fest, and to represent the Freshmen, the school board has asked me if you could all write essays and read them. Now, I know many of you would rather give up saying ‘six-seven’ than read aloud, and I won’t force you to, but I’d like at least 5 speakers. Chris, since you won our short-story contest last week, you are required to speak. Part of the deal, I’m afraid.”
There were a few snickers, but Chris was excited. He loved reading aloud, ever since he’d started practicing with Buck. After returning home from Texas he’d realized that he needed to up his reading game, and Buck suggested reading Percy Jackson at bedtime to learn. It was his favorite part of the day. He was about to blow this out of the park.
“I’d like you all to remember the writing tips we learned about this year, specifically interest-grabbing opening sentences. You have the rest of the period to begin writing, and they will be due next Monday so I can go over them before you present.”
Christopher already knew what he was going to write about, he didn’t even need to think about it, so of course, he was the first person done. He had his paper on Mrs. Deyanda’s desk by Thursday. She read it over while the rest of the class continued writing, and at the end of the period, she asked him to stay for a moment. Her class was the last block before lunch, so his friends waited in the hallway while he walked up to her.
“Yes?”
“Chris…” Mrs. Deyanda whispered as she stared down at his paper. “I- I’m not even quite sure where to begin. This paper is wonderful, thoughtful, and impressively written. I'm just concerned that it is such a window into your soul. After this, it may be impossible to avoid the whispers from peers, from people who may not know you very well. I just want you to be prepared for all outcomes.”
“I understand.” Chris murmured with a nod as he shoved his paper back into his bookbag. “Do you think they’ll like it?”
Mrs. Deyanda looked down at her hand, where there was a small wedding ring sitting on her finger, then her eyes flickered to the small rainbow flag perched in her pencil cup. “I think it will make someone’s day. Maybe two someone’s.” She winked at him and he walked to lunch with a spring in his step.
🦌🛷
“The holiday season, what it means, and how to survive it when your mom is dead.” Chris let the sentence fall into the ears of everyone in the gymnasium. He listened as his voice echoed over the speakers into the very back of the audience. He also tore his eyes from his dad and Buck, since he wasn’t planning on looking at them for the rest of this.
“When I first pulled this question out of the jar that Mrs. Deyanda had us pull from, I almost wanted to switch it with someone else. As you heard from my classmates, some of them got really fun prompts, and mine, well, it didn’t seem as amazing as theirs. Until I began to think about the answer, what the holiday season meant to me. I found myself picturing myself sitting around a large candlelit tree, one that sparkled with red and green ornaments, and was hanging over a large pile of presents. I imagined my mom and my dad sitting beside me, watching me unwrap a small drum set, complete with two sticks so I could bang on them well into the night. I could almost feel those two wooden drumsticks in my fingers, until I realized that the image I had in my mind was a dream I’d had years ago. When I was 8 years old, I wished for two things for Christmas, for my mom to come back, and for a small drum set. I got both of them, and I was really excited about it, until my dad came home from work one day and told me my mom was gone. She hadn’t left us again, not on purpose at least, but she had passed away-” Chris took in a deep breath, willing himself not to cry, not in front of all these people, not when he was the one who’d written this.
“The drum set didn’t seem as fun anymore, and for a long time, I didn’t use it. I wondered to myself, as I sat in class and listened to my classmates reading each other their paper’s, why I had imagined something that had happened so long ago. I tried to imagine what my ideal Christmas would look like again, but this time, I was sitting on the couch in my living room, the navy blue fabric beneath me, my mom sitting to my left, my dad sitting to my right, and my best friend, Buck, sitting in front of us. We were all laughing, and I was unwrapping a new gift, my very own skateboard. When I knew my mom, I could barely stand on my own, but now, almost one year later, I was skateboarding with my two favorite people ever. A nice memory, but it was still one that had come and gone. I almost stopped my paper here because I was so frustrated as to why I couldn’t imagine a new, fresh wish. I didn’t know why the holidays to me were outdated memories, and why my mom was in every single one, even though I didn’t know her that well. Then, like a lightbulb, I realized that every one of those memories had been of me wishing. Me wishing for my mom, me wishing for a skateboard, and that now, I had one more thing to wish for. The holidays to me were about wishing for something impossible. Like how Perrywinkle talked about why it didn’t snow in LA. Because it was so warm here, and the chances of it snowing were practically 0. Every holiday memory I have is wishing for it to snow on the sandy beaches of Los Angeles, California. So there was my answer, that the holidays to me meant wishing for impossible things. To end my essay, I’d like everyone to close their eyes and wish with me.” Chris closed his eyes, and then peaked to make sure everyone else had followed suit. His gaze fell on his dad and on Buck, and he noticed they both had their eyes closed, even if there were glistening tears on their cheeks.
“This holiday season, even though my mom is dead, I’m surrounded by more love than I've ever known. Love from my dad, and Buck, and everyone in their fire station. We’re missing someone this year, my friend Bobby Nash, but I think they wish a lot in heaven too. I’d like everyone to follow after me and what I say… ‘This season-’” Chris paused, and then beamed when he heard every single voice in the audience echo him.
“‘This season is the time for wishing, so I would like to put one impossible request out into the universe… My snow on the beach, my 0-chance-it-happens wish is that- now you can say yours in your head, but I’m gonna say mine out loud- my 0-chance-it-happens wish is that my dad and my best friend, Buck, get married. Because I think they’ve loved each other for a long time, but just never made that leap. And because we learned from every other presentation today that the secret to Christmas spirit is love, I’d like to thank my mom for loving me, even if she couldn’t do it my whole life. I’m loved now, and every one in this room is loved too. Thank you for listening. Happy Holidays." Christ stepped away from the microphone and grabbed Perry’s hand, gripped it tight as he bowed with the rest of his class. He didn’t look at the crowd as they rose to their feet, cheering and clapping. He didn’t look at his dad and Buck as the curtains pulled closed and he lost sight of everything all together.
He heard Mrs. Deyanda clapping for everyone, and then watched as she ushered them to their jackets and told them all to meet their parents or guardians in the usual pickup line outside. She gave Christopher an extra large hug before she walked over to meet a lady standing off to the side of the stage. She sank into her arms, and he saw the lady’s hand brush against his teacher’s back, a ring on her own finger.
Oh.
🦌🛷
Buck and Eddie walked silently to the car, and Eddie pulled it around to the pickup line outside of the school. Buck just stared at the ground, messing with the bandaid on his knuckle, pulling at the fabric awkwardly.
“So… you didn’t-”
“I had no clue he was gonna say that.” Eddie whispered, not looking away from the steering wheel. His fingers were tapping lightly against the plastic, the tune of Jingle Bells, probably stuck in his head after the Seniors sang it to end the show.
Buck just nodded, pressing his lips together as he stared out the window. He didn’t say anything, he was terrified of what he would say, where he would even start. The idea that Eddie wanted him back was impossible, that was his never-a-chance wish. His wish had been that Eddie would love him back, since he knew it would never happen.
“What’d you wish for?” Eddie whispered, looking over at Buck for the first time since they’d walked out of the gymnasium. Buck didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want to tell the truth, but Chris had just kinda called him out when he’d told everyone he wanted Buck and Eddie to get fucking married.
“Edide, I swear, I don’t know why Chris said that. I haven’t- I haven’t said anything to him.” Buck whispered, and Eddie’s eyes widened ever so slightly.
“So you’ve felt like that and just haven’t told him?”
Shit.
“I- uh- I didn’t-”
Buck didn’t finish his sentence because Eddie leaned over the center console and threaded his fingers through Buck’s hair and cut off the rest of his words by kissing him. Buck paused for a moment, confusion taking over his body, and then he realized what was happening and leaned against Eddie. He moved his hands up under Eddie’s shirt, fingertips dancing across burning skin as they both moved to get a better angle. He felt Eddie’s tongue swipe along his bottom lip and his mouth fell open in a gasp, his body shuddering as Eddie licked into him. Eddie moaned, deep and hard when Buck’s fingers found his spine, dancing between the ridges in the bone. His grip pulled at Buck’s scalp with the new movement and Buck groaned, his lips slipping from Eddie’s with a needy inhale. They both sat there for a moment, Buck opening his eyes to stare at Eddie, pupils blow, body pulled across the center console of his truck.
“God, fuck…” Buck whispered, pushing Eddie’s mouth back against his, finger skating along the skin of his body, his tongue moving with Eddie’s, sweeping together. His mind was racing, too many things under the thick lining of bone in his head, desire and ecstasy running rampant in his veins. They fell apart again and Buck took the moment to murmur into Eddie’s hot breath. “I love you. I love you, Eddie. And I, shit, yeah I want you. I want everything. I want to raise our kid together, and I want my name on the fireplace, hung on the stockings and I want it to be there forever. I want to wake up on Christmas morning in bed beside you, and watch as you open the really fucking good gift I got for you. I want you, and Chris, and I really damn wish you want me too.”
Eddie shook his head, fingers running down Buck’s ears, holding onto him like something was about to pull them apart. “I want it, Buck. Yeah, I want it.”
They met in the middle again in a searing kiss that spread through Buck’s entire body, challenging every other person he’d kissed that year. He’d thought that Tommy was an awaking, but this… this was like waking up and finding out that everything you’d ever wanted had been behind your sleeping eyelids. All you had to do was open them. His eyes were closed, and then he heard the familiar click of crutches against concrete, and he shoved Eddie so hard, they both fell apart with the clack of teeth hitting. Eddie seemed to realize just as the door opened and he grabbed Chris’ things from him so he could get into the car.
“Hey, bud…” Eddie’s voice sounded wrecked, and it made Buck want to kiss him again. Chris didn’t seem to notice, his eyes focused on something outside. Buck turned to glance out at what he was looking at and his breath caught in his lungs.
“It’s snowing…” Chris whispered, and Buck felt a laugh bubble out of his body. Chris just smiled, looking from Buck to Eddie, and then back out as the frozen crystals fell to the grass.
“Thanks, mom…”
My smile is like I won a contest, and to hide that would be so dishonest.
And it's fine to fake it 'til you make it, 'til you do, 'til it's true.
