WHO Adam Parrish & Matthew Lynch WHERE The Barns WHEN Christmas morning (backdated) WHAT Presents that require explanation need to be given in privacy STATUS Complete WARNINGS None!
Matthew’s eyes opened early Christmas Day, in his bed, at the Barns. Matthew loved Christmas, he loved going to midnight mass with Ronan and singing songs and listening to a story about hope and love, and he even liked when strangers rubbed his head (that was true of Vallo and of Henrietta and of DC, his head being rubbed must have been some universal continuity). He loved picking out presents for people and awesomely hilarious wrapping paper...even if his wrapping wasn’t the best. He loved seeing how excited kids were about everything. He loved snow and hot chocolate and cookies and candy, joy, happiness, wonder, and merriment.
It was Christmas Day, Matthew in his bed, at the Barns, and Matthew couldn’t help but feel a pang of bittersweetness. He missed the neat, tidy way Declan opened presents, the way his mouth would twist upon seeing what outrageous (awesome) tie Matthew had gotten him as a gift. He missed the gifts Niall had created, tailored (dreamed) for each of them, missed discovering what they did, Niall’s excitement over showing them off. He missed the smells coming from the kitchen indicating that Aurora was at work whipping up creations of own, he missed laying his head on her shoulder after all of the gifts were unwrapped, missed the way she proclaimed that no matter what her boys gave her, it was exactly what she wanted.
But there were new memories, Matthew thought. New, good memories that he had, and memories to make. He liked that. Stretching, Matthew got out of bed and carefully, quietly, made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He wasn’t about to wake anyone just yet! He could, however, start the morning off with hot chocolate and cookies, and maybe watch the animals through the window.
When he got to the kitchen, Matthew realized the beginning of the holiday would be spent with someone. Adam was there, stirring his coffee, and Matthew smiled at him like he was exactly who Matthew wanted to see at that moment. “Aw, hey, Adam! Merry Christmas,” he said, waiting until Adam had set aside his mug for Matthew to go in for an all-encompassing, warm hug. “Did you sleep okay?” Matthew asked as he pulled down his own mug and started a pot of milk to heat on the stove.
Adam didn't think anyone would be up this early. He was surprised he was. The day before had been busy, not a time to think or blink with the crowds of people enjoying the last bit of Christmas out and buying gifts before everything shut down. And when they were finally inside for the evening, Adam nearly forgot that Ronan and Matthew were going to church for mass at midnight. He had dozed fitfully waiting for them to come home, shared sleepy Merry Christmas with one another before crawling into bed.
That had turned into finding Ronan downstairs at close to four in the morning. They had fallen asleep for ten seconds or two hours, Adam wasn’t sure, only that it was still aggressively dark outside when he woke up again. Adam made a small noise of protest as Ronan left to take care of the animals. He had done enough for Adam and everyone else who lived here, Ronan deserved a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep.
But Adam was now awake, his shoulder feeling a little sore. However, the Barns still awash with low colorful lights from the decorations made it easy to ignore it. He slipped in to check on Opal who was still steadfastly asleep in the office. Adam ended up making a pot of coffee—one thing he couldn't mess up in the kitchen—and was just about to sit down when he heard someone else come in. Matthew.
They hugged, because showing that sort of uncomplicated affection didn't cause his gut to twist, and nodded. "I slept okay. I'm surprised you're up? I was going to—" Try and make breakfast was a lie. Adam shouldn't be allowed near a stove. Cooking was the one thing he couldn't master and while it continued to plague him, he didn't want to ruin Christmas right away with burnt food.
"I was going to sit here and wait for everyone else. Ronan’s outside feeding the animals." He pulled out a chair and faced Matthew at the stove, his movements still all quiet and hushed. "Did you sleep okay? Are you sure you want to be up just yet?"
Matthew shrugged, smiling. “It’s Christmas Day! I always liked waking up early. The fun part starts sooner.” Everything felt warm and soft on Christmas morning, maybe from the spirit of the holiday, maybe from the Christmas lights, maybe from his ‘Don’t Hog the Nog’ plush pajamas. He poured the milk into the mug and put in two packages of cocoa mix. The whole thing was stirred with a candy cane. “Plus, it’s nice to have breakfast made, but when we don’t know when people are coming down, it might get cold? Breakfast is a very important thing to time right, Adam!” Matthew’s ‘chiding’ was all in jest, of course, given the way his eyes danced with laughter.
“In the meanwhile…” he trailed off, head tilting side to side, indecisive. “Can I give you your Christmas present now? I know it’s early, but it sort of requires explanation? And I want to make sure you hear that explanation, and maybe that’ll get lost with everyone around?” When Matthew was uncertain about something--an idea he wasn’t sure of its viability, a point he wasn’t confident on, talking about topics that might have made someone feel uncomfortable, he phrased things as questions. A part of that was self-preservation, and another part was just a step in the journey of becoming more used to standing behind what he thought.
In this instance, it was because he had put a lot of thought into Adam’s Christmas present and he wanted Adam to like it. They may not have ever discussed Adam’s family, but Matthew was observant enough to know that past Christmases for him wouldn’t have had those family breakfasts and songs and snowball fights. He wanted Adam to have that, to feel safe and loved and welcomed, just like family should have been.
Adam watched with both fascination and horror over his coffee mug as Matthew went about making his hot cocoa on the stove—maybe it was the double packets, or the candy cane stirrer, but he was so distracted (and not quite awake yet) that he almost missed Matthew's question.
"Oh, yeah, yeah if you want to," Adam said, a little stunned about the explanation being needed. Presents made Adam anxious, a built-in response that he hadn't quite shaken off after years being around people who wanted to give him things without strings attached. Without him needing to owe them anything. He worried he might always have that underlying reaction, but it had been easier to push it down when it came to birthdays, special occasions, and holidays, like Christmas.
"Do you want to do it here?" Adam asked as he stood, taking another sip of his coffee. "We can go into the living room. I don't think anyone turned the tree off when we went to sleep, and I—" Adam didn't know if that was tradition, if that was a Lynch family tradition, or just everyone being too absent-minded after being awake after a long day. Either way, Adam didn't want to touch anything and put it out of place. "Your gift is in there."
“Oh, definitely the living room,” Matthew agreed. “That’s where yours is too! And I like opening Christmas presents under the tree, when that’s an option.” Of course, Matthew would open up and give Christmas presents anywhere, but when asked? Absolutely he was going to choose sitting around the tree lit with twinkling, colored lights and filled with homemade, store bought, and probably even a few magical ornaments.
He was struck by the memory of Aurora carefully placing one of his own crafted ornaments on the tree. It was a child’s hodgepodge of glitter, popsicle sticks, glue, cotton balls, yarn, and...more glitter, but she treated all of the homemade ornaments with more reverence than she did the expensive ornaments. Just like whenever he thought of a happy memory of their mom, Matthew felt the pang of her loss resonate in his bones, and then soothed by the actual memory itself.
Matthew went immediately to where his pile of presents was, and it was easily spotted because they were wrapped in such obviously Matthew Lynch wrapping paper (a brightly/garishly colored pattern including but not limited to: llamas wearing Christmas sweaters that said ‘fa la la la llama’, tacos with sunglasses, unicorns with rainbow horns, flamingos in Santa hats, and pandas skiing down hills) that they were impossible to be from anyone else. He handed Adam two small boxes and then sat back on the couch, looking at him over the rim of his mug now filled to the brim with marshmallows.
Inside one of the two boxes rested a pair of silver, round cufflinks, and a silver tie bar, classic, clean, and simple. In the second box was a small, dark brown leather case about the size of a deck of cards.
“So, I wanted to get you something for your career, and I know they’re really plain, but I thought that maybe if you liked cufflinks then later on I could get you silly ones, like they had these origami T-Rex ones that were super awesome, or they had these Viking ones that had fur as beards, and those were amazing but for your first ones...” He shrugged, smiling. “I wanted something professional. But the thing is, this is sort of a two part gift? Because I was going to have them engraved, and the tie bar too, but I didn’t know what name you were going to use, eventually? And I didn’t want to push you into anything--like if you were going to hyphenate, or use Lynch, or keep yours, or maybe you guys were going to come up with something totally new like I know some people do, so I thought that maybe when you’ve decided, I would get them engraved for you! And get your business cards too, which was the same problem, but no rush! Mostly, I just thought it would be nice for you to have something on you so that you know who you are.”
Matthew’s nose wrinkled. “Is that stupid? I could get the T-Rex ones, those were super cool!!”
Adam followed Matthew into the living room, taking his spot on the couch—the fact that he even had a spot on the couch said a lot about how comfortable he felt here in a place that was his home but did not start that way. He sipped at his coffee as he watched Matthew shuffle around the tree and the presents, pulling out the most Matthew-appropriately wrapped packages. Adam swapped his coffee for the boxes, doing that confused but pleasant smile, as if to ask two?
But all of that vanished when he opened his gifts. Matthew was talking about something, t-rex or origami or vikings. Adam had kind of blue-screened at seeing the positively sharp-looking accessories. They were simple, but so elegantly him; Adam couldn't believe he was getting worked up over a tie clip, but it was undoubtedly one of the nicest career oriented items he owned.
"What?" Adam said, coming out of his daze at two-part gift. His face didn't know what to do. He thought this was a dream, maybe he hadn't actually woken up yet (entirely worked up about gift-giving could be a stress dream) but this was too much. A reminder and a promise that Ronan was all he ever wanted, and that Matthew found him worthy of being with his brother.
Matthew saw Adam's own future almost better than cards could call. Better than Adam could accurately give himself without doubting if he was allowed.
"Matthew, this is—it's not stupid," Adam corrected, making sure that no one started down that line of thinking. "This is a lot, I don't—" Oh God he was going to say deserve this he could feel the words coming out of his mouth and he forced it close. No, no. "Thank you. This means a lot to me in so many ways. And I think you might be more of the T-Rex person."
Matthew’s answering smile was pleased and relieved. There would be many other chances in the future to give Adam presents--silly ones or things that he had specifically asked for, or things Matthew saw that made him think of Adam, but for their first Christmas, Matthew wanted to give him something personal. He may have first known Adam as Ronan’s boyfriend, but their time in Vallo had allowed Matthew and Adam to grow closer, and Matthew was thankful for it. Adam was Ronan’s boyfriend and Matthew’s friend. He liked that.
“I may buy them!” He confessed, laughing. “There have been a lot of formal events lately, my cuffs need to be linked!” Dinosaur cufflinks would go pretty perfectly with Matthew’s colorful suits! He toned down the attire for church, of course, the creativity restrained to his choice of tie.
To the mountain of marshmallows, Matthew added a handful of miniature chocolate chips. “I mean it though, I want to get them engraved and get your cards! Whenever you decide, it doesn’t have to be anytime soon. It’s a standing promise, and I don’t forget those.” Matthew didn’t know what he himself would have decided, as there didn’t seem to be a wrong choice so long as it was made out of love. Of course, Matthew probably needed a date before worrying about something like a name change.
"I know you don't," Adam said, as someone who also held his promises until the bitter end. Adam's were often some kind of strict, self-sacrificing sort—the ones that required him throwing himself into summoning circles and bargaining with ancient forests to protect Gansey. Matthew's seems much more wholesome than that, ones that only had happy endings. This particular one seemed to take one step closer to a commitment Adam decided in his mind a long time ago, but speaking the words out loud, making it official felt still distant.
He liked that Matthew seemed to give him all the time in the world, even though marrying Ronan was a certainty. "Thank you," Adam repeated, taking his time to look at each of the pieces of his future that Matthew had given him before placing them back into the box.
Adam pointed to a small box under the tree. It was not nearly as festively wrapped, with its thick parchment paper and red ribbon. But it was expertly folded, every line crisp and clean. Adam took his time. "That is yours. You don't have to open it now, but I had help with yours so it's not so much a surprise to everyone else but you."
“Oh, I’m going to open it now,” Matthew said, grinning as always.When he was younger, Matthew would open presents with all of the enthusiasm and grace of a golden retriever puppy. Actually, he had done everything with the enthusiasm and grace of a golden retriever puppy. Now that he was older, Matthew...did everything with the enthusiasm and grace of an older golden retriever. That meant that he held up the package and appreciated Adam’s pristine wrapping and careful bow before opening it.
In the box was a note jotted in Adam’s just as pristine and careful handwriting. Matthew read it, and then examined the tarot card underneath. He stayed quiet, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration.
“It’s really…” Matthew trailed off, thinking about the word. Pretty, of course, objectively, the card’s artwork was intricate and detailed and it was a beautiful piece. Familiar too, Matthew recognized Ronan’s craft, but it wasn’t just familiar because of Ronan. There was something else--something that resonated with Matthew, like a piece of music that pulled up emotion unexpectedly. He pulled his gaze from the card to look up at Adam.
“What does it mean?” Matthew knew how much tarot meant to Adam, and Blue, and the women of Fox Way, and he understood the basic principles of it just from watching Adam at the market with a terribly disguised curiosity--which was where Adam’s gift of a reading had come from, Matthew realized with a rush of affection. But he didn’t know the cards and their deep symbolism.
Adam watched Matthew open the gift, but the nervousness that preceded it didn't leave once he pulled out the card. His attention stayed on Matthew, waiting, analyzing the soft confusion mixed with genuine interest. Adam couldn't figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing, his mind was firing too many synapses at once—answer Matthew's question, stop panicking that his gift was not enough, don't be self-critical, don't be self-critical, don't be self-critical.
"It's—" Adam's voice was weird, half formed. He cleared his throat as he scooted closer to Matthew, coffee in one hand, pointing with the other as he explained. "It's the Sun card. The Sun is objectively positive, because of what the sun means to us. Warmth, optimism, life-giving in a spiritual sense, which I think everyone can agree is you."
His index finger circled around the other symbols on the card: the four flowers for the four minor arcana, the white horse, a rendition of Matthew (fully clothed). Adam did not mention the baby iconography that was missing, mostly because Matthew was that innocence. "The Sun brings good news, things will get better, this can pull you through to success. It's uplifting."
He risked a glance to Matthew, still looking uncertain. "When we do a reading together, to answer whatever questions you want, bring this with you. I'll shuffle it into my deck, and it can connect you to it for a better reading."
Matthew leaned his head on Adam’s shoulder, easy and open and comfortable, while he listened to Adam’s explanation, rapt. It was, perhaps, a different side of Matthew than what he usually showed. Matthew’s joie de vivre, his cheerful buoyancy, his excitement that bubbled out of him with snack food names and large gestures and exclamation points galore was Matthew--he couldn’t be anything but Matthew, sincere and earnest. This Matthew, more reflective and quiet, was also just as sincerely Matthew, if a newer development, and typically came out when he was putting something together.
For as much as Matthew was so obviously himself, he still had so many questions. Wondered and worried and was uncertain, just like any teenager on the verge of adulthood. Except his came with an identity crisis of what it meant to be a dream. So anytime he had the chance to explore that, whether it was talking about his feelings, or thinking back on Aurora, or now, showed how he was seen by his family here and the possibility of seeing more with Adam, later.
“I love it,” he said, slowly, a bit in awe and entirely unaware of how his close examination was leaving Adam on edge. He smiled, hugging Adam’s free arm.“Adam, it’s really perfect, I love it so much. I’m really excited! But kind of nervous too. Not in a bad way! Because I trust you. And I know it’ll be best coming from you.”
The hard line of tension that had formed slowly leaked out of Adam, his shoulders no longer up to his ears. Even as Matthew said how excited he was and how much he loved the gift—which Adam still was finding a way to second-guess it even after giving it—there was a shock of realization too. Matthew was nervous about a reading. Adam had unintentionally put Matthew on the spot to answer the question: do you trust me with this? And Matthew had more or less said yes
Holy shit.
"There's no rush on this gift. Kind of like yours is to me—" Adam said with a small disbelieving smile. Of course they managed to have these promises built into gifts, for different reasons. "Whenever you're ready, you take priority. And we can do it outside, or in the kitchen, or even in Cabeswater." There was a warm babble of Latin in his chest, behind his ribs, the forest always there willing and waiting to be helpful. Adam wouldn't push Matthew into anything but the options were open to him.
Adam pointed to the card again. "This is not just your card, to keep, but yours always. Like I'm the Magician, Blue is the Page of Cups. Anytime this shows up in a reading with you, especially if it's first, that's recognition of your presence. At least, it is for me." Adam drank from his coffee again, pausing mid sip when he heard one of the upstairs floorboards squeak. Someone else was up.
"We can talk more about this later, if you want. It doesn't have to be now."
He put the card back into the box, smiling a bit down at it as he did. Matthew liked the idea of being named, belonging, permanence. Their gifts had that in common as well, both tangible signs of what they each wanted. “I want to know more! Maybe, before the actual reading, we could sit down and you could explain it? Then I won’t keep interrupting with so many questions.” Maybe! But doubtful.
“We’ll do it soon,” Matthew said. Another promise. Because he wanted to, he was so very curious, and because he wanted Adam to know that he wanted to. If you asked Matthew, all presents were heartfelt, so long as they were given out of love (because of course he thought that) but this was Adam’s time and talent and Matthew held that dear. And doing it in Cabeswater seemed right. Even though Matthew didn’t have the deep connection that the rest of the Gangsey had to the magical forest, it had been the place where he had last seen Aurora, last hugged her, last heard her say she loved him. She had been awake there, an impossible magic in and of itself. Maybe it was because of that, or maybe because of the dream stuff they were both made out of, but he felt something familiar there.
Matthew drizzled some chocolate sauce and then caramel syrup to top off his cooca. He settled back on the couch and took one last look around the room, glowing from the Christmas lights and the sun peeking through the window, before Christmas day started in full swing.