It was over the festive Christmas break that the boys thought they would have to leave their new apartment and return to their parent's house for a short while, visiting whoever else decided that they were going to spend some time there.
Usually, for Connor, he was greeted by his grandparents, soon after followed by his childless aunt, Tina, who he barely ever saw, and her long-term boyfriend, Carl, that spoke more like a 'posh gentleman' than the characters of Downton Abbey. His mother often spoke to Tina the most over the family dinner, despite her being Simon's older sister, all the while her boyfriend spoke too much to Connor about school, which wouldn't bother him in the slightest if Carl didn't have a strange habit of asking his age six times every single year, without fail. Connor was nine years old when he first met Carl over Christmas, and he spent the majority of the time he spent in the house talking to him about his interest in books, giving him words to spell, which became part of their family traditions for the next few years. And from the age of ten, whenever Carl questioned him on his age, he told him he was 'almost a man'. When he finally answered with the knowledge that he was seventeen, Carl reared back in surprise and uttered "not long now." Connor was both curious and terrified to hear his reaction to finding out that he was now eighteen.
His grandparents were sweet to him, listening to his stories of his life in and out of school, eager to hear what state the shop was in, and if he and his parents were planning anything special for the new year. The Christmas previously, while his parents, Tina, and Carl were in the kitchen, cleaning after the meal, Connor sat down in the living room with both his mother's and his father's parents. Due to the rough past between their children, the couples used to dislike the thought of spending the holidays together, and it was thig particular Christmas that they told the young man this very fact.
"Of course, they're still our children. We can't start any arguments over Christmas, we all thought," his grandmother on his mother's side, Pat, explained to him, "and the first year that we came to see them both, back when they had just moved in together, they were already talking over the table to each other about marriage. Oh, but they looked so happy that we just couldn't say a word. They were finally over all of their differences, and so we all did the same."
His mother's father, Greg interjected eventually, "Of course, and we know for sure that it's because of us that you won't have to face the same problem, Connor," he assured. Greg always had a tone of certainty to his voice, a manner of speech that made him sound sure of absolutely everything; a trait that was obviously passed down to Nina.
His comment gave his other grandmother, Janette, a perfect opportunity to raise another subject. "Oh, that reminds me!" she suddenly exclaimed, "do you remember last year, Connor? What Paul said about how old you were?"
Connor shot a glance at Janette's husband, his grandfather Paul. He knew what it was that she was talking about, as the previous year, following Carl's reaction to him being sixteen, Paul had briefly mentioned the possibility of dating, at which point Connor had gone quiet, having already been with Jonah for a few weeks already.
He nodded at Janette, knowing exactly where she was going with this discussion.
"You're definitely old enough to have found yourself somebody now, aren't you? Do you have a girlfriend, Connor?"
The teen boy shook his head, earning a pitiful 'oh' from Pat.
"But I have someone," he had mumbled, hoping almost that nobody had heard what he had said. Although, it seemed Greg didn't struggle too much with hearing the words he'd said to himself, and with a serious look that was almost intimidating, he leaned forward towards the boy and simply said, "who is it, son?" His voice was calm, contrasting to his expression greatly.
It was only when Connor saw his father appear in the doorway out of the corner of his eye that he took a breath and spoke, the presence of his father giving him some sort of confidence.
"His name's Jonah," he said, quietly, "and we've been together for over a year."
He was surprised to notice the expression on Simon's face morphing from blank to one of relief. Clearly, he wasn't worried about what his parents and in-laws were going to say to such news. He was right not to concern himself, as Pat now produced another 'Oh', one of pleasant surprise, a smile now on her face.
"Never would've thought it," Paul said as he turned to Janette, who nodded at his comment, but looked down at him without a trace of disapproval on her face.
"You see, young man?" Greg got Connor's attention once again, reaching out to the teen sat on the ground, placing his large hand on his bony shoulder, "We didn't expect our kids to be happy together, but we were going to be there for them either way. We'll do the same for you, you know. Make sure we can meet the boy at some point, won't you?"
Connor's family Christmases were never unwelcoming or awkward, very much unlike the case of his lover.
For Jonah, his Christmas was always spent at his father's parent's house a few hour's drive away from where they had moved to. There was something dull and dark about the house that they lived in, but maybe that was down to their view on him. Luckily, his mother's side of the family were always in attendance, including his uncle, Richard, who always brought his wife, Aunt Lindsey, and Jonah's cousin, Chloe appeared once every few years, but never making much time to speak to the family. She would eat with them, and then retreat into a quiet room to continue with whatever work she had decided to bury herself in, and thus, Jonah remained clueless about what she was like. Sometimes he forgot he even had a cousin, and he definitely couldn't recall a time he ever told Connor about her.
Everybody in his family now knew about Jonah's sexuality, the day Dominik found out being the day that he told his parents, partially because he didn't know what else to do following the argument he and his son had gotten into after finding out. The following gathering (that he was extremely glad wasn't Christmas, but was in fact during the summer previously the same year) when they then found out that Richard and Lindsey already knew, having been told a similar time to when he had come out to Hazel, who had helped him then come out to her parents, Mack and Ellie. It was his father's side of the family that seemed to frighten him when it came to the thought, and upon hearing Lindsey confirming that she'd found out a few years previously, Dominik's father, Lewis, had released a deep sigh and simply told him, "They experiment at this age," earning a lot of attention from the more accepting members of the family around him, Jonah falling completely silent in his seat, even going so far as to holding his breath, "you'll figure out eventually, Jonah, that whatever boys you have your eyes on now will become disgusting to you."
Jonah never mentioned Connor in front of Grandfather Lewis, at least not by name, following the response he got to the retort he thought of right at the moment he heard him say such a horrible thing.
"What if I actually have a boyfriend now?" he answered back in dull tone, mirroring the one his grandparent had used to address him, and bordering on the emotionless way of which his father regularly spoke, his voice strained having held his breath for so long, "and let's just say I've been with him for over a year now?"
"You'll learn," Lewis repeated, "and so will he. Both of you will soon be free of this stupid delusion or at least, you will with your brain. You're a smart boy, Jonah, and if this boy of yours doesn't too, then he's a fool unworthy of your time. Already is those things, just claiming to be who he is."
Jonah had felt his grip on his fork tightening, his mother laying a hand on his when she noticed his knuckles turning white under the pressure. Although, he hadn't let her grip last very long, as he'd quickly slammed his hands against the table, aggressively placing his cutlery down before leaving the table and leaving the house.
His mother and father approached a nearby park a few minutes later, both of them deciding to go and seek out their son, seeing him sat alone on a bench at the end of a nearby street. Behind him, he could hear the creaking of chains and the joyful cries of children enjoying their summer holidays, some parents accompanying them out. Every so often, he shifted to one side to let a small child climb over the bench he was sat on, running around and playing whatever game that Jonah couldn't muster the creativity to even imagine anymore. As he sat there, he was tired, concerned about the support he was going to be receiving from his grandparents now that Lewis had said such a thing; was he going to be able to afford rent without the money they'd set aside for him? He began to concern himself about the apartment that he hadn't even chosen yet, interrupted when he saw his mother's face appearing in front of him, the woman in question crouching to see his dejected expression. Dominik sat beside him, still no trace of emotion on his face; however the thought that he had arrived to attempt to comfort his son was enough to warm him just a little. They explained to him that once he'd left, Dominik had begun a long discussion with his own father about how ridiculous the views he just expressed were, saying that even if he, with the emotional detachment and lack of understanding for society and social interaction, could accept that a member of his immediate family was a homosexual, then so could Lewis. To which, he had apparently scoffed, although Jonah found himself amused at the information that his wife, Agnes, had then agreed with the rest of the table. Lindsey and Richard had expressed much more calmly that they thought it was a good thing that Jonah could be open and proud of himself to the rest of the family, and Hazel's parents had admitted to not fully understanding, but being proud that he could find somebody to make him feel special and happy, regardless of their biological sex. With the promise that Grandfather Lewis wasn't going to say anything else to him for the rest of the afternoon, Jonah returned to the house, not even making eye contact with his grandfather from the moment he stepped back though the door, to the moment they left to return home.
Jonah questioned whether or not they should invite Grandfather Lewis to the new apartment that Christmas. They'd decided to host the family gathering at their apartment for the opportunity to allow their families to mingle, neither of them wanting to leave their new home after moving in. However, as Jonah had feared, everybody was hesitant to invite his grandfather, even Connor after only hearing about his views on their relationship.
"I mean, he's family, but if he dares say anything, I don't know what I'd do," the taller of the two had explained, "I'd want to get mad, and I probably will, I can't leave my own apartment, but if I send him away, that causes a scene- basically, everything will be awkward."
Eventually, it was Christmas morning, and Jonah was the first to wake up, which was a very rare occurrence.
He felt the warmth of his covers as his body regained feeling, followed by the calming presence on the male sleeping beside him. The dark-haired male finally let his eyes flutter open, cracking open very slowly as he began to get used to the lighting in the room, the first thing he saw being the peacefully sleeping face of Connor at his side, facing him in his sleep. He wasn't stirring, his breathing soft and level. Jonah took note of the shadows cast across his face by his nose, how long his eyelashes were as they brushed against his cheeks, and how his hair fell crazily across his face. With a careful and light touch, Jonah brushed it behind his ear, trying not to disturb his sleep, but the tickle of his hair dragging across his soft skin caused Connor to shift slightly, letting out a content hum before his eyes began to flutter open. When green eyes met brown, they both exchanged a sweet smile each, Connor's voice hoarse and still obviously half-asleep when he muttered a friendly and loving, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, babe," Jonah spoke in an exhale, sighing gently with a sweet smile. He shuffled closer to Connor, resting their foreheads together, nuzzling him gently, their interaction a tired expression of their affection towards one another.
As the pair of them woke up, they were met with the chill that swept across the room, threatening to invade their occupied warmth underneath the covers of their shared bed.
"Uh," Jonah groaned, "when's everyone getting here again?" he questioned. Neither wanted to get up for a while, at least not to brave the cold of the rest of their apartment, but they both knew that the time it would take for them to prepare their table and food for their families when they arrived would take up the majority of their morning.
Connor sighed and turned over, lying on his back now. Immediately after he had moved, he felt his feet leave the natural heat that had been conjured by his presence in that spot all night, his toes curling when they hit a chilled part of the mattress. "I think my parents were going to try and get here by twelve," he stated, turning his head to see the digital clock placed on the bedside table on his side, "which gives us over two hours."
"Yikes," the darker-haired male sighed again, reluctantly pushing himself into a sitting position. Immediately, Connor tugged the covers that moved with his lover back over him, tucking them underneath his chin. Still, Jonah continued to force himself out of bed, his bare chest immediately feeling the difference in temperature. He scrambled to grab a random shirt, picking one up from the ground and pulling it over his head with obvious haste. Connor watched his movements, partially enjoying his early-morning visual of his shirtless boyfriend, partially trying to contain his laughter at the unfortunate choice he made when he decided to sleep without a sufficient number of layers of clothing when his own choice had been much wider, having slept in checked pyjama pants and a thick sweater than he no longer wore during the earlier hours of the day. Watching Jonah scramble around was entertainment enough for him, and the longer-haired male eventually also pushed himself to sitting up in bed, feeling as the rest of his body met the colder patches of the mattress where neither of them had been all night. He was hit significantly less intensely by the chill surrounding them, even as he got himself out from under the covers and stood up beside the bed, simply throwing the corner of the duvet back up over the pillow.
"What first?" Jonah asked with a somewhat husky voice, speaking to his lover as he fished a thick pair of socks out of the bedside drawer, "do you want to eat breakfast or shall we look at exchanging our gifts for each other?"
By this point, Connor was also digging around in the bedside drawer on the other side of the room, one hand shifting the items scattered at the bottom, the other in his hair, holding it up behind him in a ponytail.
"Well, we always had a rule in my house to never open a present until we've finished eating, but since I'm not living there anymore, we don't have to," he shrugged, finding a large claw-clip to hold his hair up and out of his face, "so, what did you do in your house?"
"Uhm," Jonah laughed as he 'answered', thinking back to the way he and his parents had begun Christmas morning every single year since as long as Jonah's memory could contain. December 25th always began the exact same way for him; "Well, we'd all make breakfast together and then eat it while opening our presents. We all opened one each at a time, starting with my dad, because he was the oldest in the house. It's really silly- I used to get cranky because I always opened mine last, and one year I tried opening one secretly before 'my turn', so my mum and dad both got to open two at once. They did it really slowly to punish me for 'breaking tradition'. Yeah, it's pretty stupid, let's not do that." Jonah took heavy and tired steps around to the other side of their bed as he recalled his past experiences on previous Christmas mornings, standing in front of his shorter boyfriend, his expression a display of embarrassment.
Although, as Jonah spoke, a soft smile pulled at the corners of Connor's lips, the somewhat amusing visual that the story created in his head granting him a warm feeling, resembling some form of comfort. A silent chuckle escaped him. "That sounds like you," he teased in a hushed voice, referring to Jonah's attempt to open a present early, "but I actually like how that sounds. Let's at least make breakfast together."
Connor's palms were warm and soft, as always, contrasting to Jonah's hard and tough hands as he took them gently in his own. Still, the darker-haired male looked quite hesitant to repeat the traditions of his household, but he had found over the time that the two had spent living together already, that he really did enjoy cooking with Connor. He had learnt over the last few years that his shorter boyfriend had often opted to cook for his family following the occasions his father had arrived home stressed or in a foul mood due to troubles in his teaching job, and the days his mother arrived home late after cleaning and managing the store for an entire afternoon by herself. To give them a break, he'd often cook for the family, and after a while, he'd begun to enjoy cooking, eventually coking his own lunches for school. Jonah had found entertainment the first time he watched Connor cooking their dinner, right from how he gathered the ingredients and seasonings he'd need, then to watching as he did it all without checking recipes or hesitating. Somehow Jonah had found it even more fun to join him, listening to all of his instructions, improvising where he can. Somehow, he now found cooking much more fun, considering he never had much of an interest in the activity.
"Sure," he agreed, squeezing his hands gently, his usual smile appearing on his face again, "what's your go-to Christmas breakfast?"
Connor thought for a moment, clicking his tongue before sighing gently, "It changes. I think omelettes are easiest, though. I mean, heating up some mince pies is easy, I'm just weird, I don't like eating them first thing in the morning."
"I like omelettes; we can make some of those."
With that, Connor playfully tugged Jonah to the kitchen, his smile still clear on his face as he thought to himself that how childish he felt that morning contrasted greatly with how he felt he should react. The curly-haired boy thought that he should feel more like an adult by now, being eighteen and no longer living with his parents, but it seemed that no drastic changes had occurred in relation to his reaction to Christmas. Or at least, nothing to keep him calm. He'd experienced the feeling of the magic fading from the holiday when he was fourteen, but this year, it all seemed to be coming back to him. Maybe, he considered, it had something to do with Jonah.
Having now made their breakfast and eaten in the comfort of their kitchen, the two young men made their way to their living room, Jonah stopping to crouch by the plug socket, flicking the switch and turning on the lights that they'd decorated the room and the Christmas tree with, illuminating the room that hadn't yet had its curtains pulled back. The walls were decorated with the coloured hue projected onto it by the lights, the room seeming suddenly quite cosy.
Connor sat himself down on the couch, sinking into the cushions, turning to the side and laying across the entire sofa.
"Hey, can I not sit down?" Jonah whined in his infamous joking tone, taking short steps over towards his lover on the couch, although, he was content with placing his food down on the coffee table and kneeling on the ground.
The two finished their breakfast before they decided to begin unwrapping their gifts from each other, Jonah visibly excited to get to it quickly, as at one point, Connor acted in concern as he slammed his own plate down onto the table, not a care about the ceramics or the woken surface, diving over to where Jonah sat on the floor, ad slamming his palm against his back to help him swallow what he had caused himself to choke on.
"Would you slow down?" Connor sighed, giving him a hug when he'd calmed and his face looked less red, "nothing's going anywhere, don't scare me like that."
A haunting thought swept across the taller male's mind, chilling his spine and settling a deep pit in his stomach.
Although, despite the mild panic and emotional downfall of that morning, the two managed to cheer up when they got to opening their gifts. They'd both spent far more on the other than they'd have expected, both of them receiving a stack of presents to be treasured from their lover. Jokes, embraces, and 'thank yous' all passed as they disposed of the last of the torn wrapping paper before they got on to making the food that they were preparing for their family and friends, Connor stood in the kitchen, at the counter with a focused look, double checking the cooking times of everything he wanted to make in order to time it all properly. What he didn't expect was for a pair of strong arms to snake around his waist from behind, a warm body pushing against his back until he was against the counter completely, Jonah nuzzling into his hair from behind him. As usual, when they embraced, Connor took note of the size of Jonah's hands, how warm he always seemed to be, and how his grip on him was tight, but gentle and soothing, in a way.
"I wasn't going to give this one to you until later, but I just can't wait anymore," Jonah whispered to him, causing the shorter-haired male to quickly turn on his heels, remaining in his arms as he now came face-to-face with his long-term boyfriend. As usual, Jonah greeted him with a welcoming smile, letting go slowly and reaching into the pocket of his loose joggers, producing a smaller gift; a cube-shape that was wrapped in the same paper as the others, notably much neater. At first, the confusion was visible on Connor's face, his brows furrowing as he stared at the box, taking the light package out of Jonah's hand as he lifted it to his face. There was no funny note stuck to it like a few of the other presents he'd received that morning, and he couldn't think what it could be; suddenly he began to wonder if Jonah was trying to be funny and was trying to make something underwhelming seem so important. Maybe a Rubix cube, Connor thought at he considered this possibility, but something in Jonah's eyes when he looked up at them seemed to scream that this was serious. He wasn't trying to fool anybody this time, and the way he watched Connor's every move, his copper eyes filled with something resembling fear, made him seem as though he was on edge or nervous.
Connor began unwrapping it slowly, his fingers curling against the paper, hooking underneath one of the folds and pulling at it, tearing the thin covering away from the tape that was holding it down.
Taking another glance up at the dark-haired male, Connor continued unwrapping it, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over him, bringing a smile to his face- he had a thought that assured him for a final time that this was no joke.
"That's the exact same look you gave me when you gave me this two years ago," he reminded the taller of the two, holding out his wrist, on which, after so long, he still wore the exact same watch that he'd been given the day he had turned sixteen. Jonah felt a familiar warmth covering his entire body, his heart racing to almost a fluttering feeling as he remembered, recalling similar days where he'd felt this way when that same watch was taken to be fixed. It'd seen the last of its days a few times, he'd thought, but Connor was stubborn about keeping it, insisting that he wanted to get it fixed and he wanted it to last longer.
Now, here he was, filled with the joy of seeing it securely on his wrist once again, tension still gripping at his heart and his nerves despite whatever reminders of their past he had, he was still tense and almost frozen In place despite the adrenaline that filled him begging him to use it, run out the door and do a few laps of the entire city. He stayed still, his only movements being the drumming of his fingers on the side of his leg.
Finally, Connor found himself looking down at a plain black flip-open box, taking hold of the top to try and open it up, but stopping to take another look at Jonah. He looked somewhat calmer, taking a deep breath.
'It's not too bad, it's not too bad,' he heard his own voice repeating, his eyes fixed on Connor's hands, his slender fingers gripping the lid and flipping it open to reveal the contents. The light reflected off them perfectly, and as the taller male looked away from the box and up at Connor's eyes, he saw the sparkling caused by the reflection of the light on the metal, his green eyes dazzling him in a way he'd almost forgotten about. Being with him for such a long time, he'd forgotten about the way Connor's eyes had drawn him in before. Right then, when the silver beam reflected in his emerald eyes, Jonah felt it all coming back. So far, his Christmas had been full of nothing but nostalgia and momenta that made him cry of laughter, and the light, fluttery feeling he kept getting for the first time in a while.
"They're promise rings," he finally spoke, seeing Connor's expression shift from the confused look that he wore while opening it to something that resembled admiration.
Now, their eyes met again, and Connor's voice was raised, sounding more than just a little bit shocked to hear his say so. "Promise rings?" he clarified, seeing Jonah nod, his smile reappearing upon seeing a positive response from his lover, "You got us promise rings? Oh my God, Jonah!"
Connor was practically ecstatic, staring down into the box at the pair of identical rings that it contained.
They were both quite plain, simple, silver rings with three clear gems embedded into them. With as delicate a touch as he could manage, Connor took one out of its place, nestled in the slit of the sponge, seeing that on the inside, there was a, engraving.
'11.12.2016'
The 11th of December, 2016. It was the day they'd spoken about their relationship in the snow, the day they had been drawn to almost kiss by their increasing need to be with the other, and it was the day that they'd began something serious and long-lasting.
"The day we got together," the curly-haired boy spoke in a soft voice.
Jonah took the box from his hand, lacing it beside them on the counter. "Allow me." Again, resembling the delicate touch of his lover, he took the ring in between his fingers, taking Connor's left and pushing it onto his finger. It fit him perfectly.
"Now, allow me," Connor mimicked Jonah's actions with the other ring in the box at his side, pushing it gradually and carefully on his finger. Once again, it was a perfect fit.
Jonah looked down at their hands, taking Connor's now slightly more accessorised hand in his own, giving him a gentle squeeze. The shorter felt like he should have seen Jonah's next move from a mile away, suddenly taking a step forward to once again push his smaller lover against the counter, the distinctive sound of a gasp making an attempt to escape from Connor's mouth, cut off suddenly by the softness and warmth of Jonah's lips. Taking him into a loving kiss, he returned his arms to Connor's waist, his joy overtaking him and causing his grip to tighten, rendering it impossible for them to move any closer to the other.
For a few minutes, they forgot about cooking anything.