Brian woke and registered his hangover before anything else.

He remembered bourbon. His insistence on going to Babylon last night, because they couldn’t go tonight. Justin wearing blue. He remembered glitter getting in his own drink and Justin daring him to drink the glitter, which did not seem so hilarious now that he was sober.

Brian wondered idly if the glitter would make him sick as he moved his head fractionally, expecting to see Justin’s sleeping form. The bed was empty. He didn’t want to get up and search for him; his head hurt and he wanted Justin to wake him up properly. Perhaps a kiss or two, coffee presented to him in bed, followed by a nice shower. Yes. A good way to start a Saturday.

“Brian, are you up,” came a sudden yell, followed by a bang of the kitchen cupboard, and Brian wanted to cry. His loving partner.

“No,” Brian replied, closing his eyes again. He heard footsteps moving from the kitchen into the bedroom, and then his favourite sound in the world – the sheets and velvet duvet rustling as Justin’s body moved across them. He didn’t need to open his eyes to tell that Justin was straddling his body. He felt Justin’s t-shirt brush his bare belly.

“Hmm,” Justin said softly, nosing down Brian’s chest and then peeking under the covers. “I think you are.”

“No. I think I’m dead.” Brian breathed him in, the alluring and familiar scent of cotton and coffee, savoring the quiet of the loft save for their voices. “Why did you let me have that last drink?”

“The last drink wasn’t the problem. The first six were.”

Brian cracked one eye open and glared as best as he could. Justin was smiling at him. “Fuck you.”

“Okay.” Brian snorted as Justin let his entire weight rest on top of him. The covers were somehow gone; Justin’s erection in his jeans pressed against Brian’s thigh. Brian wanted that cock. He just didn’t want to move too much.

Then came a provocative little whisper in his ear, followed by a kiss on the cheek. “What are you going to do to me?”

“How about you tell me what you want me to do to you, to save us both time.”

“Brian!” Justin smacked his shoulder and rolled off him, onto his back, leaving Brian naked and cold.

“Hey.”

“No, never mind,” Justin said, sighing. “I understand that in your age, your body just doesn’t have the physical capability--”

“Oh Jesus, don’t start that. You’ll make me soft.” He rolled to cradle Justin’s body from behind, one hand immediately fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. Justin smiled with his eyes closed, his back arching into Brian’s touch.

“Never.”

“Is this better?” Brian was stroking Justin’s cock now, slowly. Their breathing seemed to deepen simultaneously.

“Well, I don’t want to tire you out. I could just lie here as you talk dirty to me.”

Justin’s jeans were around his knees and Brian smoothed a hand over his ass, fingers tracing his hole gently. “Fuck you,” he said again.

“I think you need to brush up on your dirty talk skills.”

Brian let out a genuine laugh as Justin wriggled out of the rest of his clothes, then shoved Brian onto his back and straddled him once more. They were quiet for a time, the silliness of the morning dissipating as Justin stroked Brian’s nipples, Brian’s cock snug under his ass.

“Hey, Brian?” Justin whispered, leaning down to touch their lips together briefly.

“Hm?”

Justin smiled softly. “I like the new thing over the bed.”

“You’re welcome.”

Justin kissed him again, deeply this time. All in all, Brian decided it was a very good start to Christmas.

*

The night was not shaping up so great.

Debbie opened the front door with a wide smile and a shriek of, “There you two are! We thought you had gotten lost on the way over!”

Brian stepped inside and surveyed the living room that looked as though Santa’s workshop had exploded all over it, where the entire gang sat holding cups of eggnog and/or small children. “Let the Griswold Family Christmas begin.”

Justin, the fucking little charmer, chose a more traditional greeting. He kissed Debbie’s cheek and handed her a bottle of wine, then flopped on the sofa. He, of course, had no hangover. He was fully prepared to exhibit enthusiasm and Christmas joy. Brian wanted to kill him. Once he had endured hugs and kisses, he was handed a glass of wine, his son, and told to behave by Debbie.

“I can behave,” he protested. Gus sat on his knee, staring at the glass of wine. He attempted to grab the glass and take a sip. “Not until you’re fifteen, Sonny Boy,” Brian promised.

“Brian!” the women in the room said in unison. Gus climbed off his father’s lap and went to inspect the Christmas tree.

“I see the ghost of Christmas present is at his best today,” Ted said to Justin.

“Hey, I love Christmas,” Brian protested. He took a cookie from a tray that Emmett was passing around. The entire room fell silent as everyone turned to stare at him. “Do you guys have any idea how much shit I can sell during Christmas time?”

Justin, sitting to his left, rolled his eyes. A beaming Michael ignored him and handed Jenny Rebecca to Brian. The baby was wearing – God help them all – a little elf outfit.

“Here, she’ll get you into the Christmas spirit,” Michael insisted. Brian had no choice but to accept the baby or drop her, and he didn’t really feel like getting killed by Melanie today. He lifted the baby up and regarded her seriously.

“If you throw up on my sweater, Santa will skip your house.”

With that, the baby was taken away from him and he was left to get drunk in peace.

*

“Just one hour to go and the turkey will be ready,” Emmett informed them delightedly, making it sound like all of fifteen minutes. Brian had already been sitting there for a half hour and he had consumed three glasses of wine. Miracle on 34th Street on TV competed with Bing Christmas carols on the record player, not to mention the constant frantic beeping issuing from Hunter’s Gameboy and the women banging around in the kitchen. Brian sat in the corner with Justin and nursed his headache.

Justin ate cookies as he curled against Brian’s side. “You’re getting crumbs on my pants,” Brian informed him tiredly.

“Does that mean I won’t get to sit on Santa’s lap?”

“I had no idea you felt that way about Santa.”

Before Justin could reply, the lights went out.

A moment of stunned silence. Then, “Dark, Daddy!” observed Gus.

“Holy shit, did the power go out?” Debbie rushed over to the window and pulled back the curtains. The street and the other houses still appeared to be lit.

“Holy shit,” echoed Gus. Brian laughed and Debbie turned to swat him on the head.

“This isn’t funny! We have a turkey in the oven and vegetables that still need to be cooked!”

“Here, we can light these candles,” Ben said.

“Candles won’t cook a fucking turkey!”

“Or my fucking pumpkin pie,” Emmett continued.

“Please, you know the swearing rule around Gus--” Lindsay fretted, and was ignored by everyone else.

In the meantime, Justin’s hand was slipping up Brian’s thigh in the darkness. “It’s probably a problem with the fuse,” Ben said calmly.

“Good idea, honey. Brian!”

His attention was diverted abruptly from Justin’s hand. “What?”

“Go down to the basement to check the fuse box.”

“Why do I have to do it?”

Debbie just pointed a finger in his direction and cracked her gum menacingly. He sighed and dragged himself off the couch.

“I’ll come with you,” Justin volunteered.

“Good idea. Two heads are better than one.” Debbie handed Justin a flashlight.

“Fucking,” chirped Gus.

Brian looked at his son. “It’s like you’re reading my mind, Sonny boy.”

Debbie shoved a flashlight into his stomach.

*

“So,” Justin said, shining his flashlight beam around the basement, “do you really know how to fix a fuse?”

Brian smirked at him. “No, do you?”

“I’m an artist. I don’t even know what a fuse box looks like.”

“Well, this is going to be a very successful mission.”

“Good thing we have some time to kill,” Justin said. He trained his flashlight on Brian’s dick, a smile spreading across his face slowly.

Brian dropped his own flashlight as Justin backed him against the wall. He raised an eyebrow. “I thought I’m not allowed to fuck you in Deb’s house anymore,” he murmured.

Justin palmed his cock through his pants. “It’s the basement, it doesn’t count.” Brian chuckled despite himself as Justin unzipped his fly and kissed his neck. “Plus,” Justin continued, “it’s soundproof.”

The curve of Justin’s bottom lip was like a promise. Brian leaned down to lick it. “Did you bring any cookies with you?”

“Shut up.”

*

Fucking in a dark and dusty basement, surrounded by boxes and old furniture, wasn’t how Brian had planned to spend his Christmas, but he decided as Justin sucked his cock that it really wasn’t so bad.

He wanted Justin to keep sucking him just like that, but he also wanted to fuck him. He weighed his options, finally dragging Justin up off his knees. Justin looked dazed, his mouth wet. “What?”

Brian kissed a spot behind his ear. “Turn around.”

Justin got a condom out of his pocket and made to hand it to Brian. He dropped it in surprise when Brian yanked down his pants and slid a finger into his ass instead.

“No lube,” Brian said quietly, stroking his finger in and out carefully.

“That’s never stopped you before,” Justin grunted, starting to fist his own cock.

Brian rolled his eyes. He raised his hand to Justin’s mouth and Justin sucked on his fingers for a moment before Brian slipped two back into Justin’s ass. Justin was breathing in deep gasps, his head lolling back on Brian’s shoulder. He was already gone.

Finally sliding into Justin’s ass was the best Christmas present Brian could think of. The easy rhythm of thrust and release, the most familiar thing in the world, made the dust and dampness and the strange China cat staring at him fade away.

When they were about to come, he heard Justin whisper, “I love you.”

Brian wrapped his arms around Justin a little bit tighter.

*

They trudged back up the basement stairs, Justin’s arm around his waist. “How are we going to explain the come stains?”

“Maybe she won’t notice.”

Justin slanted him a look. “They’re going to know what we’ve been doing.”

“They’re just jealous.”

As Justin laughed, the light above them turned back on.

They looked at each other, and then at the light. “Huh,” Justin said. He opened the basement door and they were greeted with a myriad of lights and much celebration coming from the living room.

“You boys did it!” Debbie cheered, practically dancing. She ran over to hug them. “The turkey will be saved!”

“You fixed the fuse?” Michael asked suspiciously, eyeing Brian’s mussed hair and Justin’s flushed cheeks.

Brian shrugged modestly. “You know I’ve always been a whiz with tools, Mikey.”

“It’s a Christmas miracle!” Debbie continued, undaunted.

“Yeah, not unlike the little bit of oil lasting for eight nights instead of one,” Ted said dryly.

“Cheers,” Emmett agreed.

Debbie took Justin’s arm and dragged him towards the kitchen. “Come on Sunshine, you and Brian have to help me mash the potatoes.”

Justin looked back at Brian, smiling. He shrugged and followed them, grateful, at least, he had someone to make the uninteresting parts of life a little more interesting.