[For Bobby] Christmas Morning

[prodigalflame]

John had woken early in his own bed, alone, and found that this whole 'sleeping together once or twice in the past week' thing was getting to be annoyingly habit-forming. Alone was starting to feel...odd.

Still, he made them a pot of coffee, leaving a mug out on the counter for Bobby, and took his own to settle on the couch with his thoughts and look out at the wintry landscape, little more than some paving and a few dreary shrubs and bushes, windows edged with frost.

The fire was warm, so he let his robe fall open, and simply cradled the mug in his hands. Underneath the tree he'd left a present in matte silver wrapping paper with a snowflake design and a small gift card with Bobby's name on it. Inside was a copy of Math Jokes 4 Mathy Folks, although that wasn't the real gift. The real gift was the Sinatra app John had bought and sneakily installed on Bobby's phone after his boyfriend - god, boyfriend - had gone to bed that evening.

Tucked up inside the book was another present, although John wasn't entirely sure of the impulse that led him to place it in the front cover. It was an old photo, taken on the grounds of the Xavier Institute, with two teenage boys sitting on one of those benches they had dotted around. Bobby was leaning forward, smiling at the camera, either looking happy or clever enough to fake it; and John was sitting next to him, but at a distance, leaning back with arms stretched out along the back of the bench, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle, and looking anywhere but the camera, a picture in studied, deliberate angry-cool. It had been taken a couple of months after Rogue had arrived at the Mansion and everything had changed, but to John it was still a worthy memory, at least some of the time.

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[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby woke to the faint smell of coffee and the realization that it was Christmas morning. He laid in bed for a few minutes, wondering what the day would be like. He'd always gone to his folks' house for Christmas, even when things were strained and uncomfortable. This would be the first year he wasn't surrounded by his family on Christmas, and the thought was weird...but not necessarily in a bad way.

He sighed and stretched, grabbing his robe and slipping the small red-foil wrapped box with the gold ribbons (clearly a professional wrapping job) out of his drawer and into the pocket. Then he headed downstairs, poured himself a cup of coffee, and went to find John. When he did, he smiled and went to join him on the couch, nestling against him and taking a sip of coffee. "Morning. Merry Christmas," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to John's lips.