DD9 - More Christmas! [4/7]
Dec. 22nd, 2013 11:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: The Summer Sun in Winter
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff/AU
Rating & Warnings: PG
Words: This part 1630, appr. 14.5k overall
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Julian has spent the last six months working as a doctor at a hospital in Andor. Now he's home for the holidays, to the joy of all of his friends--but especially Garak. This chapter: Decorating the Christmas tree.
Author's Notes: And here's where I'm really giving all of you a Christmas present: There will be not one, not two, but three updates this week. This is the first, and the next two will follow on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I hope you'll enjoy them! <3
See you again soon!
(4)
When Garak returned home from his shop the following evening, his first thought upon walking into his apartment was that he had been searched. He tensed in preparation for dealing with the threat, but immediately afterward came the realisation that the belongings strewn about the floor . . . were from his box of Christmas tree decorations. His artificial tree stood in the corner by one of his bookshelves, and a string of lights straggled its way around the room. They were far too bright and LED and decidedly not the subdued white ones he normally used on his tree.
Garak stepped the rest of the way into the apartment and closed the door. "Julian?"
Julian appeared from the kitchen, a half-eaten gingerbread figure in one hand. "Hm?"
"Where did these come from?"
"What are 'these'?"
"You know precisely what I'm talking about."
Julian gave him a grin that was pure cheek. "I bought them. I thought your decorations could do with some livening up."
"It's called 'taste,' Julian." Garak nudged the string of lights with his toe. They twinkled away undeterred. "Taste doesn't need 'livening up.'"
"Come on, Garak, it's Christmas. Christmas isn't supposed to be tasteful. It's supposed to be fun." He gave him a wheedling look.
Garak gave in. He'd had no chance of victory from the start—even protesting that much had been an exercise in futility.
"They can stay, but only if you tell no one they were ever in my apartment, let alone on my tree."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Julian popped back into the kitchen and returned with a whole plate of gingerbread. "Have a biscuit. Ezri sent all kinds home with me today. They're excellent."
Garak hesitated . . . then took one, mindful of the tightness of his waistband as he did so. He bit off a leg, was unable to stifle his sound of pleasure, and reminded himself all over again of the weight he had gained. He had the feeling the knowledge wasn't going to make any difference to his restraint (or lack thereof).
"They're good, aren't they?" Julian said, unaware of Garak's struggle. To have his metabolism. . . . "Ezri's baking is definitely one of my favourite parts of Christmas. And speaking of Christmas, I was thinking we could decorate the tree after supper."
"Were you? What a surprise," Garak said dryly as he picked his way across the room.
"I could put it all back if you'd rather wait for another night," Julian offered. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, then, remembering the cookie he still held, stopped.
"Tonight is fine—if we wait much longer, we'll be taking down the tree as soon as we've put it up," he replied and Julian conceded the point.
He made a light supper; Julian was still slightly hungover from Jadzia's party the previous evening, and, it seemed, he'd spoiled his appetite with the cookies. Garak himself was completely unable to stop himself from taking another for dessert. Ezri Dax, it seemed, was a dangerously talented baker.
After the dishes had been cleared away, Julian made them hot chocolate and turned on their Christmas playlist. Given that Julian's taste mostly—but not always—leaned toward pop, and his own mostly—but not always—leaned toward classical and Cardassian traditional, it made for an extremely eclectic listening experience.
Then, for the fourth year in a row, they set to decorating his tree.
It had become a tradition over those years, one with special roles for each of them and little rituals, and that sent the sort of warmth through him that mere hot chocolate couldn't hope to imitate. He had no other memories to associate with the event, only these: Christmas wasn't a popular holiday in Cardassia and Tain wouldn't have celebrated it even if it had been.
He was glad this was the case. He wanted nothing to intrude upon watching Julian reach up to drape the garland on the highest branches, seeing him smile as he reacquainted himself with the ornaments that had been hidden away in their boxes, upon the brief touch of Julian's hand to the small of his back as they crossed each other's paths on their way to fill a gap in the tree.
His one regret was the necessity of an artificial tree. Despite the inconveniences of watering and constantly vacuuming needles, he would have greatly preferred to fill their apartment with the tang of fir or pine. The store-bought one always made him feel as though he were giving Julian something that was second-best, and that was unacceptable.
How regrettable that the landlord, tired of scattered bits of nature in the hallways and trees clogging the dumpsters, did not seem to share his opinion and had banned real trees six years back. It hadn't mattered at the time to him, though his fellow tenants had certainly complained. But then he had met Julian, and it had suddenly mattered very much indeed.
He'd do this properly for Julian someday. When—
He glanced over to Julian, who was placing a delicate glass snowflake on one of the top branches. He was long and lean, his tongue just visible between his lips as he focused on not overbalancing and bringing the whole tree down at their feet. He was painfully beautiful.
Could he say "when"? He once would have wondered how long the incredible fortune of having Julian in his life would last. Now, though, and for some time it had very much looked as though Julian had decided to stay.
But life was such an uncertain thing, always indifferent to one's intentions and plans. It was better to focus on the present, not on the future. Now he had an artificial tree, it was true, but he also had Julian, who seemed happy with matters as they were.
Perhaps the second-best seemed that way only to him.
He picked up a small string of golden sleighbells to hang on the tree, and once Julian had finished positioning his ornament, he leaned in to kiss his cheek.
He felt Julian's smile beneath his lips. "I must have put too much chocolate in your drink—it's sweetened you up remarkably."
"I could find a lemon to suck if you'd prefer," he offered as he pulled away.
Julian's arm slid around him, briefly stopping him for an embrace. "That's quite all right. A little sweetness once in a while never hurt anyone."
He could have slipped away and continued decorating the tree. Instead, he remained where he was and curled an arm around Julian as well. He'd take the moment and make it, too, last the winter—but there it was again: the future. The present was better. It was much more sure and held soft lights and Julian at his side. Here was where he would live, and here was where he would allow himself to be, quite simply, happy.
*
When Garak returned from storing the empty boxes in his front closet, it was to discover two packages had already invaded the space beneath the tree. He also discovered Julian doing a truly terrible job at being nonchalant.
"I wonder, now, where these could possibly have come from," Garak commented as he went to investigate more closely.
"Father Christmas might have made an early stop," Julian offered. He sat down on the floor next to him.
"He might have—but I believe Father Christmas knows how to keep his wrapping paper lined up straight." He lifted an eyebrow.
Julian gave him a look. "It's not too late to take these back, you know."
"I'm only joking, my dear. Your wrapping skills are as charming as always."
He sighed. "Just once, I'd like to be able to wrap my gifts like you. How do you do it?"
"Patience, a steady hand, and an eye for colour tend to help." He felt the first present. A book, almost certainly. Now what about the second . . . ?
"I suppose one out of three isn't enough, is it?"
"I'm afraid not."
Hmm. . . . Julian had wrapped this one in a great many layers, presumably to disguise an obvious shape. He would have to consider the possibilities with care.
He stood and set that particular mystery aside for the moment. "I would keep an eye out if I were you. Father Christmas is almost certain to make another delivery—or perhaps a series of deliveries—over the next few days."
"Is that so?" Julian rose as well. "In that case, I'll have to stay alert."
"A wise plan no matter the season. One never knows what surprises life will bring."
*
The surprises were, of course, in the form of one gift a day appearing beneath the tree. Garak made certain to add them in as stealthy of ways as he could conceive. It naturally would have been far easier to wait until Julian had needed to leave the apartment to add his presents, but then there would be no bafflement and accusations of cheating to revel in, and he wasn't about to forgo that much fun for the sake of simplicity.
He would need to do this again next year and find a way to increase the challenge. The prospect of impressing Julian still further was such a pleasant one, and it would be a great source of motivation.
The thought, drifting through his mind as he and Julian sat curled up against each other on the couch with their books, gave him pause. Perhaps it was a safe assumption to make. Perhaps he could plan like this for the future. Even if he couldn't depend on circumstances to be reliable—he could count on Julian.
He kissed the side of Julian's head and, after a pause, went back to his book.
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff/AU
Rating & Warnings: PG
Words: This part 1630, appr. 14.5k overall
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Julian has spent the last six months working as a doctor at a hospital in Andor. Now he's home for the holidays, to the joy of all of his friends--but especially Garak. This chapter: Decorating the Christmas tree.
Author's Notes: And here's where I'm really giving all of you a Christmas present: There will be not one, not two, but three updates this week. This is the first, and the next two will follow on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I hope you'll enjoy them! <3
See you again soon!
When Garak returned home from his shop the following evening, his first thought upon walking into his apartment was that he had been searched. He tensed in preparation for dealing with the threat, but immediately afterward came the realisation that the belongings strewn about the floor . . . were from his box of Christmas tree decorations. His artificial tree stood in the corner by one of his bookshelves, and a string of lights straggled its way around the room. They were far too bright and LED and decidedly not the subdued white ones he normally used on his tree.
Garak stepped the rest of the way into the apartment and closed the door. "Julian?"
Julian appeared from the kitchen, a half-eaten gingerbread figure in one hand. "Hm?"
"Where did these come from?"
"What are 'these'?"
"You know precisely what I'm talking about."
Julian gave him a grin that was pure cheek. "I bought them. I thought your decorations could do with some livening up."
"It's called 'taste,' Julian." Garak nudged the string of lights with his toe. They twinkled away undeterred. "Taste doesn't need 'livening up.'"
"Come on, Garak, it's Christmas. Christmas isn't supposed to be tasteful. It's supposed to be fun." He gave him a wheedling look.
Garak gave in. He'd had no chance of victory from the start—even protesting that much had been an exercise in futility.
"They can stay, but only if you tell no one they were ever in my apartment, let alone on my tree."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Julian popped back into the kitchen and returned with a whole plate of gingerbread. "Have a biscuit. Ezri sent all kinds home with me today. They're excellent."
Garak hesitated . . . then took one, mindful of the tightness of his waistband as he did so. He bit off a leg, was unable to stifle his sound of pleasure, and reminded himself all over again of the weight he had gained. He had the feeling the knowledge wasn't going to make any difference to his restraint (or lack thereof).
"They're good, aren't they?" Julian said, unaware of Garak's struggle. To have his metabolism. . . . "Ezri's baking is definitely one of my favourite parts of Christmas. And speaking of Christmas, I was thinking we could decorate the tree after supper."
"Were you? What a surprise," Garak said dryly as he picked his way across the room.
"I could put it all back if you'd rather wait for another night," Julian offered. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, then, remembering the cookie he still held, stopped.
"Tonight is fine—if we wait much longer, we'll be taking down the tree as soon as we've put it up," he replied and Julian conceded the point.
He made a light supper; Julian was still slightly hungover from Jadzia's party the previous evening, and, it seemed, he'd spoiled his appetite with the cookies. Garak himself was completely unable to stop himself from taking another for dessert. Ezri Dax, it seemed, was a dangerously talented baker.
After the dishes had been cleared away, Julian made them hot chocolate and turned on their Christmas playlist. Given that Julian's taste mostly—but not always—leaned toward pop, and his own mostly—but not always—leaned toward classical and Cardassian traditional, it made for an extremely eclectic listening experience.
Then, for the fourth year in a row, they set to decorating his tree.
It had become a tradition over those years, one with special roles for each of them and little rituals, and that sent the sort of warmth through him that mere hot chocolate couldn't hope to imitate. He had no other memories to associate with the event, only these: Christmas wasn't a popular holiday in Cardassia and Tain wouldn't have celebrated it even if it had been.
He was glad this was the case. He wanted nothing to intrude upon watching Julian reach up to drape the garland on the highest branches, seeing him smile as he reacquainted himself with the ornaments that had been hidden away in their boxes, upon the brief touch of Julian's hand to the small of his back as they crossed each other's paths on their way to fill a gap in the tree.
His one regret was the necessity of an artificial tree. Despite the inconveniences of watering and constantly vacuuming needles, he would have greatly preferred to fill their apartment with the tang of fir or pine. The store-bought one always made him feel as though he were giving Julian something that was second-best, and that was unacceptable.
How regrettable that the landlord, tired of scattered bits of nature in the hallways and trees clogging the dumpsters, did not seem to share his opinion and had banned real trees six years back. It hadn't mattered at the time to him, though his fellow tenants had certainly complained. But then he had met Julian, and it had suddenly mattered very much indeed.
He'd do this properly for Julian someday. When—
He glanced over to Julian, who was placing a delicate glass snowflake on one of the top branches. He was long and lean, his tongue just visible between his lips as he focused on not overbalancing and bringing the whole tree down at their feet. He was painfully beautiful.
Could he say "when"? He once would have wondered how long the incredible fortune of having Julian in his life would last. Now, though, and for some time it had very much looked as though Julian had decided to stay.
But life was such an uncertain thing, always indifferent to one's intentions and plans. It was better to focus on the present, not on the future. Now he had an artificial tree, it was true, but he also had Julian, who seemed happy with matters as they were.
Perhaps the second-best seemed that way only to him.
He picked up a small string of golden sleighbells to hang on the tree, and once Julian had finished positioning his ornament, he leaned in to kiss his cheek.
He felt Julian's smile beneath his lips. "I must have put too much chocolate in your drink—it's sweetened you up remarkably."
"I could find a lemon to suck if you'd prefer," he offered as he pulled away.
Julian's arm slid around him, briefly stopping him for an embrace. "That's quite all right. A little sweetness once in a while never hurt anyone."
He could have slipped away and continued decorating the tree. Instead, he remained where he was and curled an arm around Julian as well. He'd take the moment and make it, too, last the winter—but there it was again: the future. The present was better. It was much more sure and held soft lights and Julian at his side. Here was where he would live, and here was where he would allow himself to be, quite simply, happy.
When Garak returned from storing the empty boxes in his front closet, it was to discover two packages had already invaded the space beneath the tree. He also discovered Julian doing a truly terrible job at being nonchalant.
"I wonder, now, where these could possibly have come from," Garak commented as he went to investigate more closely.
"Father Christmas might have made an early stop," Julian offered. He sat down on the floor next to him.
"He might have—but I believe Father Christmas knows how to keep his wrapping paper lined up straight." He lifted an eyebrow.
Julian gave him a look. "It's not too late to take these back, you know."
"I'm only joking, my dear. Your wrapping skills are as charming as always."
He sighed. "Just once, I'd like to be able to wrap my gifts like you. How do you do it?"
"Patience, a steady hand, and an eye for colour tend to help." He felt the first present. A book, almost certainly. Now what about the second . . . ?
"I suppose one out of three isn't enough, is it?"
"I'm afraid not."
Hmm. . . . Julian had wrapped this one in a great many layers, presumably to disguise an obvious shape. He would have to consider the possibilities with care.
He stood and set that particular mystery aside for the moment. "I would keep an eye out if I were you. Father Christmas is almost certain to make another delivery—or perhaps a series of deliveries—over the next few days."
"Is that so?" Julian rose as well. "In that case, I'll have to stay alert."
"A wise plan no matter the season. One never knows what surprises life will bring."
The surprises were, of course, in the form of one gift a day appearing beneath the tree. Garak made certain to add them in as stealthy of ways as he could conceive. It naturally would have been far easier to wait until Julian had needed to leave the apartment to add his presents, but then there would be no bafflement and accusations of cheating to revel in, and he wasn't about to forgo that much fun for the sake of simplicity.
He would need to do this again next year and find a way to increase the challenge. The prospect of impressing Julian still further was such a pleasant one, and it would be a great source of motivation.
The thought, drifting through his mind as he and Julian sat curled up against each other on the couch with their books, gave him pause. Perhaps it was a safe assumption to make. Perhaps he could plan like this for the future. Even if he couldn't depend on circumstances to be reliable—he could count on Julian.
He kissed the side of Julian's head and, after a pause, went back to his book.
