Merry Christmas to you all!
Dec. 24th, 2003 01:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aleathielSo, here it is, Christmas Eve. And here is my Christmas prezzie for you all. I'll let you have it today, since so few will probably be on tomorrow...
The Christmas Tree
David Wenham/Sean Bean
Betad by the wonderful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
olivia_ramirez
*
It was late and there was no light on as David descended the stairs. The door to the sitting room was ajar and there was a faint glow emanating from the gap, as if behind the door some miracle was taking place. He pushed the door gently, letting it swing silently open and pulled his dressing gown more tightly around himself.
Sean didn’t turn, didn’t move at all, and David thought perhaps he hadn’t heard him enter. The curtains were wide open, and in the curve of the window stood their Christmas tree, its myriad of tiny lights reflected in the dark glass like stars. Above these hung the stars themselves, silver as the tree lights were golden, and in among them rested the silent moon. There was frost on the rooftops, glittering like shards of crystal and ice hung in the trees like an echo of the decorations indoors.
As David moved closer he could see himself reflected in the glass, superimposed over the landscape outside, faint and ghostly. Sean’s eyes met his in the reflection and he smiled. David could see wet trails of tears on the other man’s cheeks.
He wrapped his arms around Sean, pulling him back against his chest, eyes never breaking their mirror contact. Since they were almost the same height, David could easily rest his chin on Sean’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of the other man’s skin, musky and mixed with the pine scent of the tree.
There was no need to speak, no need for David to ask about the tears. Sean would speak when and if he wanted to. David stood in silence and held him, letting him know how much he was loved. The heating had been turned down to preserve the tree for as long as possible, and Sean felt warm in David’s arms, alive. While around them the air was cold and silver, together they were safe and cozy.
“I hope the Christmas boxes arrived in time,” Sean broke the silence, his voice hoarse at first. David made a sound of agreement and kissed the side of his neck. He could see Sean smile at him in the window. It was like watching themselves on a screen, except they had never stood like this on film.
“At least they’re older now. They understand that Daddy can’t always be with them, even at Christmas.” As Sean spoke, David began to understand his tears.
“They know you love them. We’ll see them on the twenty-seventh.” His own voice broke halfway though and he realised that he too had tears in his eyes. He meant to say more, but the words stuck in his throat. His Eliza, too young to know it was Christmas at all, too young to even realise he wasn’t there.
Sean’s hands came up to take his, still wrapped around Sean’s body, silent understanding of the words not even spoken.
“How did we end up with so many bits of family?” David could hear the humour underlying the wonder in Sean’s voice and it made his smile. How indeed. And yet he knew neither of them regretted anything and that they both loved the four girls. He couldn’t wait until Eliza was old enough to play with Sean’s daughters, until he and Sean could take their girls out places like a real family all of their own. It still amazed him how smoothly Sean dealt with the girls’ mothers, with genuine fondness and mutual respect for each other’s love of their children. It gave him hope that the ache in his heart, the guilt that tore through him when he was with Kate, would one day heal and that he would someday see that same wistful smile in her eyes as he sometimes saw in Sean’s ex-wives’ eyes. That tiny wish that things might have ended differently, but that overpowering knowledge that it couldn’t have done; that small regret, tinged with relief.
Sean was looking at the tree now and he moved out of the circle of David’s arms, the cold air from the loss of contact making David shiver. Sean’s hands brushed some of the ornaments as if seeing them with his fingertips. “Debbie gave me this one when I was seventeen,” Sean told him, his touch setting the papier-mâché star swinging. “She told me there were stars in my future and that she wanted to be there to map the constellations with me.”
David sat down in the armchair to listen. He could see that Sean needed to pursue his memories without interruption. David was the youngest of seven, he knew about listening. His heart ached and he couldn’t will the tears away, although he couldn’t fully understand what had brought them.
“This one,” Sean touched a tiny carved nativity, Mary cradling the infant while Joseph looked on. “My mother gave us when Lorna was born. I think Melanie would have taken it with her if she’d thought of it.” He looked over his shoulder to smile at David. “This one Molly made at school.” He touched a card angel covered in red and green glitter. “This one Lorna made years ago.” A cluster of holly leaves made from pipe cleaners and green felt. “This one she made this year.” An embroidered heart with the words ‘Merry Christmas Dad’. “It must have taken her ages.” Pride shone in his eyes.
“They’re beautiful,” David replied, coming to stand behind Sean. “I like this one.” He touched an old-fashioned St. Nicholas carved from a single piece of wood, the faded paint flaking at the edges.
“I had that one as a boy,” Sean smiled. “It’s as ancient as me.”
“Young and vigorous then,” murmured David with a wink. Sean grinned back. “What about this one?” David began to peer at the tree and located a miniature wheat sheaf.
“That’s a didukh. I bought it when I was in the Ukraine filming Sharpe. It’s a traditional Ukrainian decoration. There’s another one on the tree somewhere – a kolach, it looks like three rings of braided bread on top of each other with a candle in the top one. I think it’s made of clay or something.”
“So this has mementos from your whole life? What’s this? None of your kids have names beginning with ‘I’…” David could see from Sean’s expression that he was relaxing, that telling the stories of his decorations was making him smile.
“Oh, yeah, that thing!” Sean chuckled. “It’s a golden ‘I’. Pierce gave it to me as a joke.”
“A golden ‘I’? Please! And I can guess this one for myself,” he touched a small enamelled football and set it swinging. “100% Blade. Now where have I seen that before?” He reached up to clasp Sean’s left shoulder where those very words were inked into Sean’s skin beneath the scarlet robe he wore.
“I like to make my loyalties clear.” Sean raised an eyebrow at him and David couldn’t help but smile at the love in his gaze.
“Oh, you do,” he murmured, closing the gap between them and kissing Sean. Sean’s arms came up around him and drew him away from the window and back into the darkened room. Sean tasted of mint from his toothpaste, and his hair where David’s hands rested was still damp from his shower. “I love you,” David whispered, not because Sean didn’t know, not because it needed to be said, but simply because he couldn’t say it too many times.
Sean laughed, a deep rumble at the back of his throat and David kissed his cheeks where his face wrinkled around his smile and the lines at the sides of his crinkled eyes. “I love you too.”
Sean sank onto his sofa and pulled David down with him, pulling the tie of his dressing gown undone and sliding his warm hands in against David’s bare skin. In response David untied Sean’s robe and pushed it off his shoulders, kissing the pair of tattoos that were revealed and coming to rest with his lips on the dip between Sean’s shoulder blades. He ran his hands down the strong back, resting one on Sean’s hip and sliding the other around to grasp his hardening cock, teeth nipping at the folds of skin at Sean’s neck. Sean buried his face in the soft cushions as he arched his back up against David, his hands reaching back, seeking contact. They moved simultaneously with familiarity, knowing where to touch for the most pleasure, knowing when to stop and draw back.
“Turn over,” David whispered, his hand still moving rhythmically on Sean, eliciting soft sounds of contentment from his lover. Sean complied and David reached for his discarded robe to find the foil packet and narrow tube he knew were in his pocket.
Both men released sighs of satisfaction as their two bodies became one. David rested his forehead on Sean’s, nearly bending Sean’s body double in the process. He did not worry he was hurting his lover, the love and need shining in Sean’s eyes were enough to tell him to continue.
The world narrowed to enclose them in a universe of sweat-slicked skin and sensation, of heavy breathing and gentle moans, of the musky scent of sex and each other. The tiny lights on the tree cast myriads of mysterious and beguiling shadows across Sean’s face and David could see the taint of stardust in his lover’s eyes just before his vision splintered into glitter and fireworks.
They lay together, David’s head against Sean’s shoulder, Sean’s legs still wrapped around David and slowly let their breath return to normal, fingers still running lovingly across well-known skin and lips touching gently. Without moving, Sean reached a hand up to the coffee table for some tissues to clean his semen off their chests. David pulled the blanket that hung across the back of the sofa down so that it covered them and contained their warmth.
“So,” he whispered, not wanting to destroy their contented silence, “is there anything of me on that tree?”
Sean laughed, his chest vibrating where David’s head rested, his hand gently stroking the soft skin at the back of David’s neck. “Somewhere near the top is a white tree made of intricately woven wire. I’d show you if I wasn’t so comfortable right here. I bought that the day we went shopping in Wellington at the end of principle photography.”
David lifted his head and looked up at Sean. “Not good enough. That’s Boromir and Faramir, that’s Gondor, not us.”
Sean covered a yawn with his hand. “I don’t need you on the tree, I’ve got you in my arms.” David continued to hold his gaze. “Well okay, if you feel like that then it’s an omission we will have to do something about.”
“It’s funny you should say that,” David smiled. He squinted across the room at the clock over the fireplace. “It’s nearly two a.m. Want your first Christmas present?”
Sean raised an eyebrow and David forced himself to break out of the circle of their warmth and cross to the pile beneath the tree before returning to his lover’s welcoming body. He fit himself back in his customary position and handed Sean the small wrapped package. Sean unwrapped the box above them, his arms extended up either side of David’s shoulders where David’s back rested against his chest. One end of the green ribbon hung down to brush David’s face as the final piece of tape gave way and the coloured paper fell to the floor.
Sean lifted the lid from the box and unfolded the tissue paper inside to reveal David’s gift. Nestled in the box was a wooden spoon, carved with vines and hearts and linked cages of balls. At the top was a loop of string for hanging.
“What is it?” Sean asked in bewilderment, sitting up slightly so that he could look down into David’s face.
“It’s a love spoon. They’re an ancient Celtic tradition. The man used to carve them from a single piece of wood and give them to the girl he loved. The different designs represent different things. I bought one with four caged balls for our four daughters.”
“So I’m the girl, huh?”
“I’m not sure that’s strictly true since I didn’t carve it myself…” his words were stopped as Sean leant down and kissed him.
“It’s beautiful, how did you think of it?”
There was a moment of embarrassed silence. “To be honest, I didn’t. I asked Viggo what a traditional lover’s gift was and this was his suggestion.”
Sean laughed again, kissing the tip of David’s ear. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Honestly, love, I adore it.” He yawned again, putting the carved spoon on the coffee table. “I’ll hang it on the tree when you get off me.”
“But I’m comfortable,” David whined teasingly. “I don’t want to move.”
“You don’t have to move,” Sean responded, his arms coming back up to circle the man lying against him. “You don’t ever have to move again.”
“You don’t think we should go to bed?” David asked, looking up through half-lidded eyes.
“No. I think we should stay right here all night and wait up for Santa Claus. I always wanted to as a child.”
As David closed his eyes and linked his fingers though Sean’s, he whispered back, “But I don’t need Santa. What could he possibly bring me for Christmas that I don’t have right here?”
He heard Sean murmur his lazy agreement as he drifted off to sleep.
AN: for more info on Ukrainian Christmas traditions:http://www.brama.com/art/christmas.html
The Christmas Tree
David Wenham/Sean Bean
Betad by the wonderful
olivia_ramirez*
It was late and there was no light on as David descended the stairs. The door to the sitting room was ajar and there was a faint glow emanating from the gap, as if behind the door some miracle was taking place. He pushed the door gently, letting it swing silently open and pulled his dressing gown more tightly around himself.
Sean didn’t turn, didn’t move at all, and David thought perhaps he hadn’t heard him enter. The curtains were wide open, and in the curve of the window stood their Christmas tree, its myriad of tiny lights reflected in the dark glass like stars. Above these hung the stars themselves, silver as the tree lights were golden, and in among them rested the silent moon. There was frost on the rooftops, glittering like shards of crystal and ice hung in the trees like an echo of the decorations indoors.
As David moved closer he could see himself reflected in the glass, superimposed over the landscape outside, faint and ghostly. Sean’s eyes met his in the reflection and he smiled. David could see wet trails of tears on the other man’s cheeks.
He wrapped his arms around Sean, pulling him back against his chest, eyes never breaking their mirror contact. Since they were almost the same height, David could easily rest his chin on Sean’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of the other man’s skin, musky and mixed with the pine scent of the tree.
There was no need to speak, no need for David to ask about the tears. Sean would speak when and if he wanted to. David stood in silence and held him, letting him know how much he was loved. The heating had been turned down to preserve the tree for as long as possible, and Sean felt warm in David’s arms, alive. While around them the air was cold and silver, together they were safe and cozy.
“I hope the Christmas boxes arrived in time,” Sean broke the silence, his voice hoarse at first. David made a sound of agreement and kissed the side of his neck. He could see Sean smile at him in the window. It was like watching themselves on a screen, except they had never stood like this on film.
“At least they’re older now. They understand that Daddy can’t always be with them, even at Christmas.” As Sean spoke, David began to understand his tears.
“They know you love them. We’ll see them on the twenty-seventh.” His own voice broke halfway though and he realised that he too had tears in his eyes. He meant to say more, but the words stuck in his throat. His Eliza, too young to know it was Christmas at all, too young to even realise he wasn’t there.
Sean’s hands came up to take his, still wrapped around Sean’s body, silent understanding of the words not even spoken.
“How did we end up with so many bits of family?” David could hear the humour underlying the wonder in Sean’s voice and it made his smile. How indeed. And yet he knew neither of them regretted anything and that they both loved the four girls. He couldn’t wait until Eliza was old enough to play with Sean’s daughters, until he and Sean could take their girls out places like a real family all of their own. It still amazed him how smoothly Sean dealt with the girls’ mothers, with genuine fondness and mutual respect for each other’s love of their children. It gave him hope that the ache in his heart, the guilt that tore through him when he was with Kate, would one day heal and that he would someday see that same wistful smile in her eyes as he sometimes saw in Sean’s ex-wives’ eyes. That tiny wish that things might have ended differently, but that overpowering knowledge that it couldn’t have done; that small regret, tinged with relief.
Sean was looking at the tree now and he moved out of the circle of David’s arms, the cold air from the loss of contact making David shiver. Sean’s hands brushed some of the ornaments as if seeing them with his fingertips. “Debbie gave me this one when I was seventeen,” Sean told him, his touch setting the papier-mâché star swinging. “She told me there were stars in my future and that she wanted to be there to map the constellations with me.”
David sat down in the armchair to listen. He could see that Sean needed to pursue his memories without interruption. David was the youngest of seven, he knew about listening. His heart ached and he couldn’t will the tears away, although he couldn’t fully understand what had brought them.
“This one,” Sean touched a tiny carved nativity, Mary cradling the infant while Joseph looked on. “My mother gave us when Lorna was born. I think Melanie would have taken it with her if she’d thought of it.” He looked over his shoulder to smile at David. “This one Molly made at school.” He touched a card angel covered in red and green glitter. “This one Lorna made years ago.” A cluster of holly leaves made from pipe cleaners and green felt. “This one she made this year.” An embroidered heart with the words ‘Merry Christmas Dad’. “It must have taken her ages.” Pride shone in his eyes.
“They’re beautiful,” David replied, coming to stand behind Sean. “I like this one.” He touched an old-fashioned St. Nicholas carved from a single piece of wood, the faded paint flaking at the edges.
“I had that one as a boy,” Sean smiled. “It’s as ancient as me.”
“Young and vigorous then,” murmured David with a wink. Sean grinned back. “What about this one?” David began to peer at the tree and located a miniature wheat sheaf.
“That’s a didukh. I bought it when I was in the Ukraine filming Sharpe. It’s a traditional Ukrainian decoration. There’s another one on the tree somewhere – a kolach, it looks like three rings of braided bread on top of each other with a candle in the top one. I think it’s made of clay or something.”
“So this has mementos from your whole life? What’s this? None of your kids have names beginning with ‘I’…” David could see from Sean’s expression that he was relaxing, that telling the stories of his decorations was making him smile.
“Oh, yeah, that thing!” Sean chuckled. “It’s a golden ‘I’. Pierce gave it to me as a joke.”
“A golden ‘I’? Please! And I can guess this one for myself,” he touched a small enamelled football and set it swinging. “100% Blade. Now where have I seen that before?” He reached up to clasp Sean’s left shoulder where those very words were inked into Sean’s skin beneath the scarlet robe he wore.
“I like to make my loyalties clear.” Sean raised an eyebrow at him and David couldn’t help but smile at the love in his gaze.
“Oh, you do,” he murmured, closing the gap between them and kissing Sean. Sean’s arms came up around him and drew him away from the window and back into the darkened room. Sean tasted of mint from his toothpaste, and his hair where David’s hands rested was still damp from his shower. “I love you,” David whispered, not because Sean didn’t know, not because it needed to be said, but simply because he couldn’t say it too many times.
Sean laughed, a deep rumble at the back of his throat and David kissed his cheeks where his face wrinkled around his smile and the lines at the sides of his crinkled eyes. “I love you too.”
Sean sank onto his sofa and pulled David down with him, pulling the tie of his dressing gown undone and sliding his warm hands in against David’s bare skin. In response David untied Sean’s robe and pushed it off his shoulders, kissing the pair of tattoos that were revealed and coming to rest with his lips on the dip between Sean’s shoulder blades. He ran his hands down the strong back, resting one on Sean’s hip and sliding the other around to grasp his hardening cock, teeth nipping at the folds of skin at Sean’s neck. Sean buried his face in the soft cushions as he arched his back up against David, his hands reaching back, seeking contact. They moved simultaneously with familiarity, knowing where to touch for the most pleasure, knowing when to stop and draw back.
“Turn over,” David whispered, his hand still moving rhythmically on Sean, eliciting soft sounds of contentment from his lover. Sean complied and David reached for his discarded robe to find the foil packet and narrow tube he knew were in his pocket.
Both men released sighs of satisfaction as their two bodies became one. David rested his forehead on Sean’s, nearly bending Sean’s body double in the process. He did not worry he was hurting his lover, the love and need shining in Sean’s eyes were enough to tell him to continue.
The world narrowed to enclose them in a universe of sweat-slicked skin and sensation, of heavy breathing and gentle moans, of the musky scent of sex and each other. The tiny lights on the tree cast myriads of mysterious and beguiling shadows across Sean’s face and David could see the taint of stardust in his lover’s eyes just before his vision splintered into glitter and fireworks.
They lay together, David’s head against Sean’s shoulder, Sean’s legs still wrapped around David and slowly let their breath return to normal, fingers still running lovingly across well-known skin and lips touching gently. Without moving, Sean reached a hand up to the coffee table for some tissues to clean his semen off their chests. David pulled the blanket that hung across the back of the sofa down so that it covered them and contained their warmth.
“So,” he whispered, not wanting to destroy their contented silence, “is there anything of me on that tree?”
Sean laughed, his chest vibrating where David’s head rested, his hand gently stroking the soft skin at the back of David’s neck. “Somewhere near the top is a white tree made of intricately woven wire. I’d show you if I wasn’t so comfortable right here. I bought that the day we went shopping in Wellington at the end of principle photography.”
David lifted his head and looked up at Sean. “Not good enough. That’s Boromir and Faramir, that’s Gondor, not us.”
Sean covered a yawn with his hand. “I don’t need you on the tree, I’ve got you in my arms.” David continued to hold his gaze. “Well okay, if you feel like that then it’s an omission we will have to do something about.”
“It’s funny you should say that,” David smiled. He squinted across the room at the clock over the fireplace. “It’s nearly two a.m. Want your first Christmas present?”
Sean raised an eyebrow and David forced himself to break out of the circle of their warmth and cross to the pile beneath the tree before returning to his lover’s welcoming body. He fit himself back in his customary position and handed Sean the small wrapped package. Sean unwrapped the box above them, his arms extended up either side of David’s shoulders where David’s back rested against his chest. One end of the green ribbon hung down to brush David’s face as the final piece of tape gave way and the coloured paper fell to the floor.
Sean lifted the lid from the box and unfolded the tissue paper inside to reveal David’s gift. Nestled in the box was a wooden spoon, carved with vines and hearts and linked cages of balls. At the top was a loop of string for hanging.
“What is it?” Sean asked in bewilderment, sitting up slightly so that he could look down into David’s face.
“It’s a love spoon. They’re an ancient Celtic tradition. The man used to carve them from a single piece of wood and give them to the girl he loved. The different designs represent different things. I bought one with four caged balls for our four daughters.”
“So I’m the girl, huh?”
“I’m not sure that’s strictly true since I didn’t carve it myself…” his words were stopped as Sean leant down and kissed him.
“It’s beautiful, how did you think of it?”
There was a moment of embarrassed silence. “To be honest, I didn’t. I asked Viggo what a traditional lover’s gift was and this was his suggestion.”
Sean laughed again, kissing the tip of David’s ear. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Honestly, love, I adore it.” He yawned again, putting the carved spoon on the coffee table. “I’ll hang it on the tree when you get off me.”
“But I’m comfortable,” David whined teasingly. “I don’t want to move.”
“You don’t have to move,” Sean responded, his arms coming back up to circle the man lying against him. “You don’t ever have to move again.”
“You don’t think we should go to bed?” David asked, looking up through half-lidded eyes.
“No. I think we should stay right here all night and wait up for Santa Claus. I always wanted to as a child.”
As David closed his eyes and linked his fingers though Sean’s, he whispered back, “But I don’t need Santa. What could he possibly bring me for Christmas that I don’t have right here?”
He heard Sean murmur his lazy agreement as he drifted off to sleep.
AN: for more info on Ukrainian Christmas traditions:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-12-24 06:03 am (UTC)Thank you, that's so lovely :D
no subject
Date: 2003-12-24 06:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-24 07:32 am (UTC)It's a very festive fic, really lovely :)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-24 12:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-24 01:35 pm (UTC)(The Sean fan in me was thrilled that one of the drawings at the end of ROTK was of Sean!! I'm glad he was included!)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-27 03:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-27 09:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-25 11:37 am (UTC)But damn... it was so worth coming back for. So beautiful and sad in a way, but also... not really. If you know what I mean. I'm not making sense, am I? lol.
Anyway... it was beautiful, and fabulous, and moving. ♥
no subject
Date: 2003-12-25 12:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-25 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-26 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-05-05 02:13 am (UTC)Why am I over here, and they're over there? Lovely work. It's all gentleness and quietness. *cuddles with the lads* *gets shoved off by both*
no subject
Date: 2004-05-05 02:16 am (UTC)They're great together, I think.