"Do you know, I almost didn't think we would have Christmas this year?"
Robert smiled down at his lover, Louie, who still sprawled half-dressed on their bed, a silly smile on his face. He wore a bright blue silk dressing gown, embroidered with his name. It was open, and spread wide. The underwear, which was Lou's other present (a bright, silky green), lay discarded on the floor, the word embroidered on it still clearly visible. It said in bold, loud purple: ROBERT'S...right over the front and back.
Louie had loved his gifts. He'd been very generous in his thanks. His eyes still shone with happiness.
It was a relatively new relationship by many standards, and not without its flaws, but it was the longest either had had, and the most committed—and Robert had great hopes for the future with Lou.
"Oh?" said Louie, but not as if he was quite paying attention. He ought to be; the Christmas breakfast started in a few minutes.
Catherine was there, and Father was well enough to attend. They'd had a scare after the incident with Bauer, the ministry man who'd gone bad, but all seemed to be okay now. Father's doctor had pronounced him a tough old bird, and then said he was doubling his bill for having to come out in poor weather to see such a rude patient. But he'd clicked up his bag and left them with a good prognosis, all things considered.
They'd all spent the next few days recovering, and now, on Christmas morning...he and Lou hadn't been able to resist exchanging gifts...in bed. Louie had given him a pricy gold tie clip with his initials on it. It was thoughtful, sweet, and very restrained considering Louie's usual taste in decorative items.
"I didn't pick you out any clothing," he'd said. "I knew it likely wouldn't please you."
"Oh," said Robert, torn between pleasure and guilty relief. "But I'm afraid I did pick you some clothing, my dear."
And that had led to the quite pleasant scene in bed.
Robert felt he could have died happy right there and then. But they would be late for breakfast, and for whatever official presents would have to be exchanged, if they didn't hurry.
"Do get up," he scolded his lover. "Or I'll come over there and spank you."
"Oooh." Louie wriggled on the bed in a most delectable fashion.
Robert rolled his eyes. He walked over, turned Lou just slightly, and gave him a light, firm swat on the bare backside. Then gave a kiss on the mouth, too. "Come on. Breakfast."
Louie sighed when he drew away, but at last he got up and began to dress. He put on a quite loud checked suit, in red and green tartan pattern with the occasional holly leaf and berry mixed throughout the pattern. It fit his slim frame admirably, but at best, it would be suitable for exactly one day of the year, and only then if one had quite a broad range of what one considered acceptable. It was very definitely a Louie suit.
"Here, love, your tie." Louie stood on tiptoes and straightened Robert's dark green tie for him, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated. He had such a pretty little face. Robert didn't resist and gave him another quick kiss.
"You'll wrinkle my suit," said Louie with a little smile, as if he didn't find the idea wholly unappealing.
"It needs wrinkling," grumbled Robert.
"Oh, yes, I suppose I should always wear dark, sober black suits like you—like...like a crow!"
Robert laughed.
There had always been a restlessness inside him, something that dared him to push farther and try harder and do more reckless things. If it had not been curbed by the military, and then by the need for privacy about his condition, what mischief might not he have gotten into? A protective, forbearing father and the fortune behind him could only do so much to protect such a young man.
But...something had changed him recently. That something—someone—was Louie. Lately, Robert lacked the restless edge he'd felt for so long. He didn't have that wild push, that need for more. He had Lou. And he was content.
They made it down the stairs together, suitably decent, if a bit overly happy and loving with one another, and went to join the breakfast table.
There sat Catherine in her neat red Christmas dress, so proper and pulled together. She looked at them, then away. There sat Father at the head of the table, surrounded by the many dishes the staff had prepared. In another part of the house, they and all the new hires were eating a great meal as well. Robert glimpsed bacon, pudding, eggs, French toast, and a variety of other delicious things. Whipped cream appeared to be present.
Louie said, "Ooh!"
"Merry Christmas, Father," said Robert, moving to his regular seat near his father.
He nodded to Wes and Kit and repeated the greeting to them. Wes, who had already begun to eat, froze, cheeks bulging, and nodded warily back.
"Merry Christmas," said Kit, for both of them, giving Robert a little nod. He looked content and happy sitting there in a fluffy red sweater next to his partner. Wes mostly just looked like he was starving.
Only then did Robert notice the two telegrams beside his father's plate.
"We've heard from Mr. Graeham," said Father gravely. "The wounded man has awakened and gone back to the ministry."
"But...he worked...what?"
Father nodded. "Apparently he worked undercover for the magical ministry—despite his addition." He tapped his chest significantly. "They had lost track of him and thought him dead. In reality, he'd gotten a hint of Bauer's involvement, and the plan to steal treasure and find the magical thingummy. He was attacked and hurt, and could only make his way to the nearest friendly face. In this case, he knew Wes and Kit were our friends, because he knew the details of the case.
"It's a bit of a miracle he survived, though. That doctor fellow nursed him through well." He looked at Robert speculatively, as if wondering what it would cost to hire the man to come and look after Robert's metal-and-magic heart full time. For a man with his own heart problems, he spent too much time thinking about his son's health.
"But he will survive?" said Robert cautiously. He looked around the table, saw the nods of reassurance. They must've all heard the telegram while he was enjoying Louie upstairs.
Lou seated himself (carefully) and reached for French toast, then whipped cream. "I do love Christmas breakfasts," he said, and licked his fingers.
Robert tried to look elsewhere, to concentrate on something else. Anything else. For pity sake's, he ought to be immune by now to Louie's cherubic sweetness—and utter sexiness. But he wasn't—a far cry from it.
"And have we heard from the ministry about what the object does? Or how Silus and Gareth are doing?"
"I was just about to open the second telegram," said Father. He did so, with his knife.
Wes snatched another couple pieces of bacon and ate them. His attempt at quietness failed; they all heard him crunching.
Across the table, Louie hummed happily as he ate, closing his eyes in sheer joy. "Ah, it's so good," he mumbled. Robert looked away, feeling hot inside his collar.
Father's eyes scanned the paper. "Oh dear. It appears the skinny one—Gareth—is in some sort of trouble. And they're still not telling us more about the objects."
"Well, that is par for the course," mumbled Robert, accepting the paper his father handed him. He read over the spare lines. Must've cost a fortune to send on Christmas morning. They'd have tipped the delivery person well, though—and Mrs. Jenkins would probably have brought him or her in for a hot cocoa in the kitchen, and perhaps breakfast as well.
"I've no doubt that Smith fellow will get him out of it," said Father. "But we'll help if he needs it. They did save my life, the two of them. The least I can do is provide funds or find legal assistance, if required."
Catherine looked like she had a bad taste in her mouth, but even so she nodded. "It seems I missed all the fun." She looked pointedly between Robert and Louie, her eyes narrowing.
Ah, family! Robert leaned back and gave her his most smug smile, one brow lifting. "I'm afraid you did, sister dear."
She rolled her eyes, flushing. He smiled at the familiar edge of rivalry and competitiveness between them. Even that was welcome this morning. Family, and Christmas, and home! Right now it all felt wonderful.
He dug into his breakfast with a hearty appetite, wondering what the new year would bring—and feeling ready to face it happily, whatever it was, with his father and Louie, their friends, and even his sister. Even the magicians—whatever assistance they required; they had done so much, it seemed little enough to help them in whatever way they could.
His eyes met Lou's across the table as he took his first bite, and just now, for today, all was right with his world.
"Excuse me, sir," said a very harried Stevens, entering the room swiftly. He had a napkin tucked into his shirt still; very odd to see on such a neat-as-a-pin manservant. "I'm afraid he wouldn't be put off."
And in behind him burst Deeks, joyfully bringing the cold air with him. A sprinkling of snow lay on his broad-shouldered black coat. Robert blinked and sat up straighter.
Deeks carried an armful of brightly wrapped presents. "What, still at breakfast? You lazy asses! No offense, Skeffield old man. Only come and see the snow, everyone! Come and see the snow!"
––––––––
The end