Presents

Brian sat back and watched the lights on the Christmas tree twinkling.  He couldn’t understand how he’d reached this point in his life -- a point where he would be sitting in the living room of his own home, with a roaring fire, watching his children (yes, children) opening their multitude of presents.

Their entirely all-too-massive family would gather later in the day to exchange the gifts bought for each other, but now it was only 8 AM, about as long as Brian and Justin could put off Gus’ excitement and Jessica’s desire to be changed and fed. 

Daphne was with them at the house, as were Lindsay and Sam, all of whom stayed overnight to share the morning chaos with their children. 

Lindsay and Sam would return to New York City later that night and Daphne would head to Arizona the next morning to be with her mother.  Melanie and JR were going to spend the morning with the Novotny-Bruckner clan and everyone would join together at Britin at about two o’clock in the afternoon.

Justin and Daphne sat on the floor with Gus and Jessica.  Justin ooo’d and aaa’d at all the right times when Gus got excited about a gift.  Daphne had Jessica propped up between her legs.  The five month old bounced and waved her hands, haphazardly flinging scraps of wrapping paper that crossed her path. 

Lindsay and Sam were curled up together on the love seat.  Brian nearly gagged watching their hetero antics.  “Would you two keep this rated G while the kids are in the fucking room.”

Lindsay smirked, “Like your G-rated language?”

Sam smiled and kissed her again.  “I can’t believe you don’t have one goddamn room designated where a person can smoke.”

Brian glared, “Justin has asthma and we have two kids.  You want nicotine -- hit the pavement.”

“Brian.”

“Lindsay.  If your boyfriend needs his fix he can have it accompanied by fresh air -- maybe it’ll counteract the effects on his lungs.”

Justin looked up from the frenzy on the floor, “Hey, you three, cool it.  You’re supposed to be watching the kids open the gifts.”

Sam grumbled, but was easily calmed when Lindsay snuggled closer to him, taking a sip from her hot mug of coffee.

Brian, not sure what to do with himself, stood up, walked to the far end of the room and looked out the front window onto the front drive and lawn.

He soon felt Justin come up from behind and wrap his arms lovingly around him from the back.  He then leaned up as close as he could to get near Brian’s ear and whispered, “If you’re a good boy, I’ll bet Santa will have a special treat for you in our hot tub tonight.”

Brian turned around, looked into Justin’s eyes, and nodded silently.

“What is it, Brian?  You were fine yesterday.  Hell, you were fine when we were overbuying the massive amount of gifts for the kids.  You seem...”

“Cruel, heartless, disconnected...”

“Uncomfortable, out of place and confused.”  Justin brushed his hand through Brian’s hair and let it rest on the back of his neck.

Brian drew Justin close and pulled him towards a secluded corner of the large room.  “It’s just that all this,” he swept his hand subtly, indicating the entire room, “this celebration, decorations...”

“Love?”

Brian turned his face towards the wall.  “It’s not something I’m accustomed to -- especially with the kids.”

Justin understood.  Justin always understood.  “They’re ours Brian.  Gus and Jessica, you and I are one family.  No one can ever take that away from us.”

Brian nodded, examining the carvings on the wood panelling. 

“History doesn’t have to repeat itself.  The Taylor and Kinney family will have Merry Christmases, full of smiles, laughter, off-key singing and enough presents to put a toy store to shame.”

“I know,” Brian responded so softly that it was barely audible.

“Emmett once told me that a wise woman gave him a piece of advice that helped him through a difficult time. Mourn the losses because they are many, celebrate the victories because they are few.”

“It sounds like Hallmark card bullshit.”

“Maybe so, but it makes sense.”

“I suppose.”  Brian turned around and faced Justin.  “Do you really think I can do this?  You’re a fucking brilliant parent, but I’m just not sure I’m...”

“You’re an amazing parent and a great role model.  Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”  Justin took a deep breath and hoped his next words would hit home, “No parent is perfect, but you and I have nothing in common with Joan, Jack or Craig and we will NOT make the same hurtful mistakes that they made.”

“You don’t know that,” Brian huffed.

“Yeah, I do.”  Justin’s voice was strong and certain.

Brian held Justin tight.  When he pulled back slightly to look at Justin, both men had eyes wet with unshed tears.  Tears from the past, for the present and the future.  Brian leaned in and kissed Justin deeply and passionately.  The two clung to each other as if they were their only means of life support -- and maybe they were.

“Hey, you two, get a room.” 

Justin and Brian pulled apart and chuckled, hearing Sam bellow from across the room.

“Dad, come ‘ere!  You’ve gotta see this.  Look what Jessica gave me -- my own indoor basketball hoop and soft basketball, so I can play inside when it’s bad weather.”

Justin laughed, “Jessica’s quite the little shopper.  Wonder where she gets it from?”

Daphne looked up as she bounced Jessica on her lap, “Hey, is that a dig?  Because if it is, I know one artist who’s new set of extra fine brushes can easily be returned to the store.”

Justin gave Brian one last chaste kiss and returned to the floor, next to Gus. 

Brian returned to his spot on the sofa and picked up his coffee mug and smiled surreptitiously as he sipped the now lukewarm beverage.  His smile turned into a smirk as he thought, looking at the scene from a slightly different viewpoint, this is one fucking modern family Christmas scene -- I wonder if I can work it into an ad next year?

Gus ran over, interrupting Brian’s thoughts, to show him another super cool gift. Brian relished the disturbance of his business-oriented thoughts and felt something that must be akin to joy as he shared in his son’s enthusiasm, just as any good father would.

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