All Through the Night
"I know a penguin, who likes to polka, eats tapioca, and lives in Boca Raton. He has some speckles, so many freckles, and that's why we call him Polka Dot!"
Chris struggled to open his eyes, blinking hard at the glow of lights across the room. "JC?" he asked. He didn't know what surprised him more, how weak his voice sounded or seeing his boyfriend in his living room.
"Chris!" JC stopped mid-line, dropped the strand of lights he was holding and rushed to the couch where Chris lay. "You're awake!" He kissed his forehead. "You feel better."
Chris felt his own cheek and realized he was cooler to the touch. "Yeah. When did you get here, man?" he asked quietly.
JC stroked his hair back. "Yesterday. The 21st." He checked his watch. "It's 2 now, in the morning, so it's the 22nd now. I came as soon as the concerts were done. Management said taking care of my boyfriend wasn't the kind of excuse they could market to my target audience," he said apologetically, shaking his head.
Chris nodded. "Yeah. Where's Lance? He was here, right? Not a figment of my imagination?"
"No, man, he was here," JC said. "He was visiting Joey, remember? Came to see you, and found your burning up over here. Where'd you manage to catch strep from, anyway?"
"I visited the children's hospital this week," Chris said. "Thought the little buggers liked me. Then this."
JC laughed and continued stroking Chris's head. "Anyway, Lance flew home to Mississippi when I got here yesterday. He'll call in a day or so when you're feeling better."
"Guess I better get him a nice gift after this," Chris said, rubbing his forehead. He still ached all over.
"Headache still?" JC asked. Chris nodded, and he stood up. "I'll go grab some Tylenol and some of Lance's Boston tea for you, okay?"
He jogged out of the room and Chris tried to sit up, but his head spun too much. He sagged back down and pulled the quilt tight over himself. He looked back over to the corner where he had first seen JC, where the light was coming from. He blinked, confused.
"Here you go," JC said, helping him prop his head up a little.
Chris swallowed the pills and lay back down. "Jayce?"
"Yeah, baby?" JC answered, finding a place for Chris's tea on the coffee table.
"When did I get a Christmas tree?"
JC grinned. "I brought one. Picked it up on my way over yesterday. I figured I'd do the lights now, since Lance said you were on the couch and not moving, and we could do the ornaments together when you felt better."
Chris nodded. "Thanks. What's with the lights?"
JC looked at the tree, proudly. "I put your colored lights on first. Now I'm putting on my white lights. This way we can plug in either strand or both. It's all mixy and us."
"Creative," Chris said.
JC stood still for a moment before starting to string the lights again. Chris watched, and the silence stretched on.
"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," JC said quietly.
Chris gave a little shrug. "You had a job to do. I understand."
"Yeah, I know, but I feel bad. I mean, like, you were so sick. And I gave you your medicine yesterday, when I got here, and you thanked me and called me Lance. I know you were pretty much totally asleep, man, probably don't even remember it, but I felt like I'd abandoned you in your time of need, or something. Made the wrong decision. Work before us, which was against everything we said we'd do," JC said wistfully.
Chris felt a little weight ease from his shoulders and relaxed into the cushions. "JC, babe. I'm not dying. Then you would have made a bad decision. For strep, Lance can do the dirty work for two days. I'm okay. Really."
"But you were upset," JC said, sounding uncertain.
Chris shrugged, and JC crossed his arms. "No, come on. Tell me. You were, right?"
"Yeah, well, I guess," Chris said, reluctantly. "Yeah. When I was, you know, awake, which wasn't too often. But I get it, and thank you for coming now. And being sad. That worked in your favor."
JC smiled.
"And, okay, I like the tree," Chris said.
JC's smile grew until his eyes crinkled, which had been the result Chris was looking for. "Thanks. I love you, Chris. So much. I don't want you to not know that."
"Ditto, man," he said. "I'd kiss you now, but I think I'm still contagious. Rain check?"
"Definitely," JC said. "Oh, hey, wanna see the other part of my grand gesture?"
"Grand gesture?" Chris repeated, confused.
"Yeah. Like, last year you drove all along the eastern seaboard so we could spend Christmas together. I figured this was my year for a grand gesture," JC explained.
"A tree is your grand gesture?" Chris asked. "I drove for, like, 20 hours and you bought a tree?"
JC laughed. "No, well, yes, I did, but that was only part of it. See, like, the lights are all mixy, right? It's us. So I had mine shipped over, and then I pulled out your ornaments when I got here. And I called Mom and Bev and had them ship some family ones. Like my mom sent some that always hung on my grandmother's tree, and this really stupid one that Heather and I made when we were really little and, yes. So it's our tree, for our Christmas. Because then, last night, I called them again and told them that we were staying here for Christmas, because you were going to be sick still, and anyway, we wanted to spend Christmas together. They both thought it was great, your mom wants you to call her tomorrow, I mean today, and, yeah. Grand gesture."
"Wow," Chris said, astonished. "Wow. Okay, this is definitely at the same level as the driving." He grinned at JC, who beamed back. "So what is this really stupid one you and your sister made?"
JC rolled his eyes and plucked a pink blob from a box next to the tree. "It's Santa," he explained. "We thought he'd like the pink outfit for a change."
Chris could see the cotton beard and rosy cheeks, but that was about all that identified it as Santa. He yawned as he shook his head. "Pink. Well, it's a change."
JC laughed. "Yeah. It compliments his skin tone, though, so there's that."
"Of course," Chris said. "Show me some of the others she sent."
JC hadn't gone through three ornaments before he realized Chris was sound asleep again. He smiled and went over to tuck him in, wrapping the quilt tightly around his sleeping form. He stroked Chris's face gently before grabbing the extra blanket and curling into the armchair across from the couch. He pulled the blanket over his lap and settled in, watching Chris through the multicolored glow of the Christmas tree. This was where he was supposed to be.
index // feedback // rina main
