#nine told her to stop making things domestic ten was silently begging her for it even though the very nature of his immortality resisted it

[sailforvalinor]

Something something Nine always said he didn’t want anything to do with family he shunned community he wouldn’t stay for dinner he told Rose to stop “making things domestic” but Rose dragged him back into community anyway and he resisted at first but then made the conscious decision to change for her and then when he came back as Ten the first thing he does is to stay for Christmas dinner to prove it to her

[iceamericanoventi]

Blank Space - Chapter 12

Part 11

———————

Boys only want love if it's torture Don't say I didn't say, I didn't warn ya

Eighty seven. Eighty eight. Eighty nine.

What day is it again? He kept both eyes shut; it doesn’t seem to have any difference at this moment. All is pitch black, sunrise looks like midnight and the dawn appears like an eternity without any sheer of light. Last night, he has another weird dream, a term he agreed with himself to call it as a replacement for nightmare. It’s not frightening, it’s just odd.

In that dream he was standing in an undefined vast space full of shadow passing by and among those absurd creatures he caught a smile. Just smile, as if it’s floating on the air instead of belong to particular face. The smile was familiar for the Jinki in his dream. However, the sober Jinki could never tell who that is which stressed him way too far for a merely form of hallucination.

He stirred under the blanket. The uncomfortable weight of the mounds of cotton forced him to kick the poor duvet. Too heavy, it just flopped back to its position, only to irritate him even further. Palms pressed to his face, he wished the instant friction on the skin washed over the weariness.

But of course he could only wish.

Ninety. Ninety one. Ninety two.

There’s a slight crack on the wooden beams on his ceiling that he noticed just now. After he gave up and checked the life rotating around him. He then wondered, for how long the crack has been there. And how come it didn’t catch his attention before today? Random calculation of the bending moment and load combination suddenly came up inside his twisted mind, occupy the vacant space he’s been neglecting these past weeks.

He blinks, one and two. His vision’s projecting the same image, hypnotizing in a way, hinting a pinch of motion sickness as a precaution. The crack’s there, still, visually concerning, but seemed like it doesn’t bother the whole structure supporting the floor above. From down there, the crack is simply filling the gap, completing the entire system.

He wished the crack in his heart is as static as that. But of course, he could only wish.

Ninety three. Ninety four. Ninety five.

Distorted and obscure, that’s how everything’s pictured behind his closed back eyes. The timeline of his memory is jumbled, it’s patchy at the edge and fragmented inside and out. How it happened, he couldn’t tell. But how it felt, he had at least half of the dictionary to complain about it. About how unfair it is, about how agonizing it is.

One moment in life, he’s seeing how happy Gwiboon talked about his corny jokes which deadly annoying but actually helping her dealing with the pressure of the fashion week at the same time. Any other second, he went red when the fraction of his memory flashed, force him to dredge up how he screamed directly to her face like a mad man, asking what kind of joke she was pulling out. She said she desperately wants to spend their bubble together, a little longer, until the day turns week, and week turns months. Then again she also stormed out the room on the next day, all drenched and broken, mimicking the same hazard occurred inside his chest.

Gwiboon is more than a crush, more than a fling, more than a good catch he discovered across the field. He wished she wasn’t.

But of course, again, he could only wish.

Ninety six. Ninety seven.

Men can only wish, the sky, at the end, would be the one who decide was it worth to be granted or not. He spent a whole night in secluded beach, a hideout place he learnt from his grandfather, screaming to the far high sky, but the wound unfastened wider. At some point he admits, he was partly responsible. He wanted – and loved – the idea of a relationship, but terribly in fear for the actual relationship.

What’s bad for being in a relationship? You idiot, Lee Jinki! He cursed silently, for the thousand times already this week. That if he didn’t count words spilled out his mouth when he was unconscious.    

Ninety eight. Ninety nine.

Jinki can list at least ten reasons in less than five minutes why he didn’t pull his ass together and man up telling Gwiboon his feeling instead dropping some barricade with the whole being-casual-and-let’s-not-put-any-label-on-it shenanigans. And out of those ten reasons, none of them because of something that Gwiboon did. Or feel.

After all, he has no heart to blame her.

Hundred.

***

It’s easy to put a mask around the house, especially with a father who’s that busy and a mother who recently found a new hobby in her flower arrangement club. Unfortunately, not when a little devil descendant like Lee Taemin is actually present.

Jinki is about to go out, suffocated inside his room and suddenly feeling skimpy with just helplessly cuddling his pillow. He finally charged his phone and took his iPod out from the dock. While the other family members are somewhere scattered between living room and the kitchen, he managed to take a very quick shower and put on some presentable clothes.

Today, he opted to pick brown-maroon sweater, attempt to distinguish his feeling after last week his Mom was complaining about all the black dirty laundry he piled up making her doubling the effort doing the laundry since she had to separate all those clothes to not ruin each other. He snatched pair of jeans carelessly and as if all the constellations are lined up to pinch a joke on him, it happened to be the cropped jeans Kim Gwiboon decided to put her magic on it a while ago.

“Do you like the idea of me making you clothes?”

Jinki looked up for just a second before focused back on the contemporary art book on his hands, “What does that supposed to mean? Sounds really domestic on my ears just now.”

“Oh, please. I just asked permission, like, is it okay if I spice up your wardrobe a little bit?”

“I don’t think I need any.. but if you insisted, then I guess it’s okay. Your hands wouldn’t do something disastrous anyway.”

“Good. Because I already did,” she handed him back the jeans she stole from his wardrobe few days before, “Your jeans are all the same and I noticed you kept wearing the same ones over and over again I almost sure if I assessed it a little bit more attentively I would find holes at some point. That’s boring and I don’t want my man’s boring. So give that a try and thank me later.”

He looked himself at the mirror, his eyes struck on both his ankle when the end of the jeans hanging with jumbled strain of threads, the vivid evidences that once, Kim Gwiboon existed in his dull life. To entertain his boring life.

Boring.

Yeah, maybe that’s why she left me, because I’m boring, Jinki thought.

He thought she would be forever, they would be forever, because finally Jinki thought he found someone who leveled very well with his obduracy without coercing themselves too far. Turned out, this time is not any different with the previous relationship that he head, got his hope high then spitted out back to the earth right on the top of rocky valley. Not like the thing he had with Gwiboon could be entitled a relationship anyway. He wouldn’t dare to call it that.

If only I could muster up some courage back then and just asked her out in a very proper way, I would feel so much worthier than merely a fuck buddy.

He pocketed the car keys, inhaled a very deep breath, practiced his auto-reply smile before exited his dungeon. And there he is, waiting by the corner of the breakfast island, the devious Lee Taemin who’s always up to roast his own brother.

“Oh, hello universe. The grad student is finally showed up! Congratulation!! We need to celebrate this very soon! Should I buy some champagne?”

Jinki kicked the stool where he sit furiously before poured himself a good amount of orange juice, the bright yellow liquid vanished in less than thirty seconds.

“I heard from your Mom, Buddy. Finally, you’re going.”

“It’s not in anytime soon, Dad. I just got accepted. Barely finish my final project here.”

“But you can still take the long distance single course for the first semester right?”

His father had been busy coming back and forth among Seoul, Tokyo, and London. There wouldn’t be any chance left for him to go through in his courting mode and interviewing his mother because the woman would shower him with the story of her new club before he could ask anything.

“Who told you that?”

“Your brother.”

He shot a glare to Taemin who stopped middle air from shoving a piece of taco to his mouth, “Don’t blame me. That man come to me with new pair of shoes, of course I surrendered.”

“That man is your father!” his mother slapped the back of his head which attained an annoying squeal from the youngest son.

“I am worried a little bit about you, Jinki.”

There’s a reason why his father now became a very famous attorney. His instinct works beyond human shield.

“Don’t be, Dad. I will be fine. It’s just too handful a bit now, with the final project, preparation, and also adjust the online course and everything.”

“If only you picked London, I have lots of acquaintance there who can actually help you.”

“That’s in some measure, the reason why I picked Chicago. Too many people we know in London, Dad, they might judge as well while stretching a helpful hand. Besides, it was my first choice since the bachelor but the beautiful lady over there was begging like a toddler seven years ago for me not to go there too early. I won’t give up my dream twice.”

Thanks to cousin Minjung and her obsession on NBA when they’re in the grade school. Whenever she visited, she gushed about this Chicago Bull’s to the siblings and triggered a very young Jinki to go to his father’s library and checking some books about the place along the Lake Michigan. Soon enough, he fell for the Windy City and dreamed to move and work as an architect there.

“And yet, see how stubborn you grew up into. So much effort I pulled to keep you grounded next to me. At the end you’d flee away still.”

“You better go sooner or she reenacted the same scene again, Buddy,” his father winked to him, knowing Jinki would be at least smiling on it.

“Roger that, Pops! I’m going!”

Taemin looks dejected on his seat, this is the first time since forever Jinki’s finally leaving his sanctuary that he’s witnessing and he didn’t even pay attention to him. Is he okay? Did he find another girl already? Taemin is way more worried than he used to be.

“Where?! For a date?! Why?! How?! With whom?! Why did you leave me here?! Why didn’t you say anything to me?! Dude!”

“Stop the commotion right there, Lee Taemin. I called Junghee this morning both of you are going with me to shop for my next club gathering.”

“Why on earth you called her?! And how do you know her number?! Mom!!”

The scene left Jinki shaking his head and chortling, somehow, a bit of pleasant feeling occupied his hollow core. That might be the one he would be missing so much when he’s alone abroad. However, the excitement of finally leaving all the traces screaming Gwiboon’s name whenever he turned is all that he can think about now and then. What a perfect excuse. He can’t wait to run away from every single memory of her in this house, this town, this time zone that had been hunted him ever since she asked him not to see each other anymore.

***

Jinki stood right at the check-out desk, dropped his favorite red bean buns and pulled out the wallet from his back pocket. The first thing greeted him when he opened it was the silly picture of him and Gwiboon they took one day at the photo box near Jinki’s favorite arcade because it was suddenly pouring hard. He still has no gut to throw it out because deep down he realized when he took it out, when he finally took it out, it means he needs to let it go everything and he hasn’t down for it any closer yet.

“That’s all?”

The question of the boy in front of him breaks the bubbles inside his head. Jinki’s eyes went pass him and caught the rack full of cigarettes behind. How tempting in so many ways.

“Yeah. That’s it.”

He opened the wrap immediately he stepped out the mart and decided to get his caffeine intake across the street. The café seems not that full, maybe I can still find some blind spot at the corner.

“Jinki?”

A calm voice intrigued his consciousness. He looked around for a while until a woman with short blonde hair is intruding his personal view more.

“Amber, right?”

“Yeah. I thought I called the wrong person.”

“How so? Do I look different with his hair?” Jinki jokingly pointed to his choppy hair. He attempted to cut it by himself last week since he didn’t want to go to his regular barber shop, the man over there would talk nonstop and that was the last thing he desired. The result as everyone can see, was beyond awful. Let’s just all be relieved that his hair grows in the speed of light.

“A little bit,” Amber chuckled seeing how his hair seemed done by a blind person, “But mostly because you look tired.”

Jinki laughed, but not really laughing, “Just woke up and drove here. Stay up late for the final project. How are you?”

Of course he lied, who wants to turn the situation into an awkward moment by blurted out how messed up they’re currently?

“I’m good! Quite busy at the studio but that means we’re growing. So I’m not really complaining.”

“Sounds great.”

Sounds annoying. Why can’t other people as miserable as me?

“Totally,” she looks very pumped and Jinki felt so bad for not reacting with the same level of excitement, “And how is it going with you?”

“Busy but not, bored but not, just.. so so.. you know?” Jinki snorted, tad nervous with such a simple question.

“Ah, I know.. it must be difficult for you as well.”

“As well? I thought the studio’s doing great. You’re going through something?”

Guess it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time having his personality. Being born Jinki, he can’t just ignored people’s feeling even though he knew he’s not in the current capacity to help.

“No, no, yeah, I’m great, studio, factory, all is well. I mean besides Gwiboon.. it must be hard time for you too, you know… with all this situation.”

Jinki doesn’t remember he told anyone what happened between him and the girl. Not even Taemin actually, but that kid was probably a CIA in his previous life Jinki didn’t find the necessity to tell him, nonetheless he would still just come up with some weird ideas to cheer his brother up.

Like the other day, suddenly stack of Mars appeared on his side of fridge – yes, he has his own territory inside that place because once their mother got rid of something belong to him, he exploded like a land mine. Or suddenly, chicken bucket greeted him by the corner of his desk when he came back home almost four in the morning.

But besides that, he kept everything inside. Not any single word of her came out from him after that day. She must have gone to Amber to unload her heart and narrate some stuff about them.

“What can I say?” He sent her small smile but it looks bitterer than the last pills he took for his migraine two days ago.

“I’m sorry, for both of you, really. It’s always hard to choose when it comes for this kind of crossroad, even a very smart one can be the most indecisive human being on earth. I was in her position before. In my case though, I was so much more hardheaded than Gwiboon, that way it was easier for me to leave everything behind. Gwiboon was still nice enough to think about other people around her. Her brother, you, and even her crazy parents who don’t even care. You may already know how hard her father is to his children.”

Hard to choose? Between what? Father? Why suddenly she brought up her father when Gwiboon herself never talked about the said man? Not even Jonghyun who had been friend with him longer than his sister.

“I still remember she ruck-sacked my office all tears and snots rambling about she doesn’t mind throwing herself under the bus as long as she can stay here and not being sent to the states. Poor girl.”

Sta—wait, what?

He thought he knew Gwiboon, this new found though, completely confused him to the staple. After a very quick self-deliberation, he decided to play along and stay chill. Jinki’s afraid Amber would realize she did something she’s banned to and just left the conversation hanging on the air while Jinki finally can grasp the whole portrait of the puzzle Gwiboon left behind.

“Ah she told you that?”

For Jinki that was a pure question, with a tint of hope Amber would leak some circumstances a little bit more. However for Amber, she heard that as a response of bemusement as if Gwiboon not supposed to tell anyone that and kept it only between her and Jinki.

“I am really sorry. She didn’t want to say anything at first, but I guess I was too pushy and it happened that she just couldn’t handle it by herself anymore. Her dre—“

Amber’s phone beeped before she could finish her sentence. She excused herself to check the message and immediately glancing to her wrist, unpleasant air’s very evident on her face.

“Jinki, it was really nice stumbled into you. The work is calling, though, so.. if you don’t mind..”

“Ah, yeah. Of course. Sorry I was holding you here. Thanks for the quick catch up.”

“You take care, okay?”

“I will. See you around, Amber!”

Within a minute, Amber already leaving the side of the street they were standing. Jinki felt the need of caffeine boiling inside him is just got tripled.

***

Jinki accomplished simple tasks by eleven in the morning. He changed his sheets, almost one months later – finally, his mother almost burn the filthy mattress together with it, he made himself a good cup of coffee and grilled cheese, and now started to make trial renders for his interior proposal of his final project.

He put aside his ego and locked it at the corner of the back of his head after he met Amber and of course a long drive to his grandfather graveyard only to eat two whole chicken bucket while talking to his headstone. He obviously earned very weird and awkward gazes from the other people who happened visiting their beloved ones but he didn’t mind even slightly, because at the end of the day he’s convinced, at least Gwiboon left not completely because him.

Another reason is because his professor sent him an email reminded him if he still desired to graduate by the next batch, he needs to submit 50% of the final material no later than the next week. Therefore, the reasonable part of Jinki strangled the overly sensitive and emotional self to the ground and chained him for their own good.

And of course the last part was only happened inside his head but who cares? He finally managed to control his adrenaline by eating one kilogram of avocado for each meal yesterday. Healthy or unhealthy, the people in his house could only judge. With the amount of obstinacy he owned, nobody’s able to change anything.

“Jinx, you got a package,” Taemin trespassed the door on ease knowing he’s currently having the upper hand in the house after seeing the effect of his tattle tale nature on Jinki, “Did you order something?”

“I ordered pork stew and some soondae two minutes ago but I don’t think it would come this fast and I’m pretty sure they came in different container.”

“Funny,” Taemin dropped the small brown box on his desk, “I went to the mailbox to check my shoes but I found it instead.”

“You do have some shoes fetish, don’t you?”

“So what can I do if Reebok just released its new classic edition? Sleeping soundly at night knowing thousands people out there sporting the goods while I can only dream about it? Do you want to see the world burnt? Hell no!”

Jinki’s taken aback with the sudden outburst he didn’t expect. Those shoes must cost him such fortune, he shrugged and reached the package.

“Who sent this?”

“How would I know?”

Jinki assessed the wrapper, it does have the stamp of the courier company, so it must be sent through mail. But oddly enough, they let this package passed with no name or address from the sender was written on it. And lately, he didn’t order anything besides food. Or taxi, when the other day Taemin was sneaky enough being an asshole by taking his car to go on a date.

“You brought anonymous package inside my room? How could you? Don’t go anywhere until I opened it!”

Taemin wasn’t planning to go out soon anyway, but the shrieking voice released from Jinki’s mouth was insulting his pride enough.

“What? Did Mom finally rub you off too hard? You sounded exactly like her just now! And it was just a ridiculous package! Might be from your fans who finally found our address!”

“Might be a bomb as well! If this one exploded, I’m taking you with me!”

“Did you even hear yourself? Who do you think you are? President? Prince Harry? Bruno Mars?”

“Terrorism doesn’t own GPS nor common sense!”

“Neither do you!” he dropped himself to Jinki’s mattress after he couldn’t find any leftover of candies Jinki used to have here and there on his bookshelf, “Who knows it would be just fans gift like before? And who knows you don’t want it and I got to have that?”

Jinki finally realized the reason why his brother not leaving immediately after he dropped the good. It can’t be bad, this one went through the courier company scanning system, the worst he could get is a stupid prank from someone or like Taemin said, a gift from admirer.

“But I haven’t been on stage since God knows how long!”

“Jesus Christ, just open it for crying out loud! I’ll do it if you’re too scared!”

Taemin’s this close ripping Jinki’s pillow into two. Snickered lowly, he started peeling the wrapper only to find a fine maroon box with silver band tied it together. Once the content peeking through the opening Jinki made carefully, eruption of emotion burst under his skin.

Safely kept inside the box, all the Polaroid photos Gwiboon had been taking when they were together, she obsessed with Polaroid and could take three pictures at a time. The amount of love floating from the piles started to suffocate Jinki. They were happy, it’s started and ended in a disaster but they were happy.

He picked one where both of them doing stupid faces, it was in her studio where they spent the whole night working on their own deadlines. 3 AM, with the best companion ever, that’s how she wrote below.

‘When Jinki being an architect’

‘I had enough for today’

‘Coffee time’

‘Look at meeee’

‘He said I’m cute in this one’

‘The sweetest bunny’

‘Jinki’s number :)’

‘Can’t help but being sloth to him :P’

‘Winter Project’

‘He gives the best hug’

‘His baby carrot fingers :3’

‘How the sun looks when he’s sleepy’

‘Mine <3’

She left her message in almost every picture. And the last one nearly breaks the guard on his eyes. Mine, he brushes her cute hand writings, bitter smile adorned his gloomy face promptly. It was him, lips all red pursing like baby penguin, looks like he was arguing something and she didn’t miss the chance to frame his upset state.  

He doesn’t know her whereabouts, phone calls and texts he sent only reciprocated by the provider service messages telling him the number had been deactivated. Yet now, he received the only traces left of her, returned back to him, as if she tried getting rid the last footprints of him that she possessed. It’s saddening.

Jinki continued digging the pictures, grimace, smirk, smile, and frowns appeared one to another, enlightened Taemin – who kept his brother in check by the corner of his eyes – that it was some important package. One Polaroid however was purposely been stuck to the bottom of the box.

Gwiboon was smiling, so bright, angelic and mesmerizing, with Jinki glued to her side, nuzzling her cheek, grin splitting on his half face printed on it, so evident it hurts.

‘98258’

It stunned him immediately. Still in daze, the sound of Gwiboon’s voice mocking him and his fixation on oldie stuff is echoing so loud inside his head. That’s started with simple conversation of current fashion trend which brought back the vibe from 90s. One thing led to another, both of them spent the rest of the night in front of Jinki’s laptop checking how the youngster using beeper to send each other message back then. He was so excited when they found this website full of silly quizzes where you need to encrypt the hidden message behind those series of number.  And of course Gwiboon was annoyed because most of the time, it was Jinki who’s able to guess it correctly.

Even now.

“Taem.”

“Hmm?” he tried to act as nonchalant as possible but his ears perked so bad, desperately want to know what his brother is going to say.

“How do you know you love someone?”

He cocked his head to the side, just to found Jinki looking forlornly to the small box, “How do I know I love someone?”

“Did I ask the wrong person?” Jinki let out dry chuckle to ease Taemin.

“Ha. You may say so,” Taemin puffed the sides of the pillow under his head, “This may sound so pretentious and would make you cringed at some point, but I guess, nobody knows, Jinx. It’s not weather that you could forecast, not something that obvious as if you look at your window and be like crap-it’s-raining-outside. It’s just… happened. Some are lucky enough to be more aware than the other. Some are just too oblivious until the end, until they had the urge to invent the impossible time machine.”

“And some are just too dumb and chicken out when they realized they’re in love.”

“Were you in love?”

Jinki’s eyes fluttered close to the question, “I am.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Silence fell once again between the two. Taemin’s digesting still all the unexpected confession he just heard while Jinki now stared blankly to the pile of Polaroid spread over the surface of his desk. Recollection brewed inside his head, somehow he’s quite proud, half awe-struck half regretted, how they managed to have this much memory in a very limited time. Indeed, time is just a concept, it’s all relative up to the point you desperately need to stretch one slice of its epoch.

“Sorry, I was disappointing with my stupid try-to-be-poetic answer. Never been in love before, never expected I’d be, but one thing I can say to you because you’re my brother and even though we’re not twins we have this scary gene connection which is too similar and I bet twins would questioning themselves once they acknowledge this, if you found yourself relating random tiny detail to certain someone, you might as well go for it, then.”

“Is that what happened with you?” Jinki timidly asked, afraid that Taemin could proof further how he missed his chance by assuming he knew what’s the best for him and Gwiboon for these past months.

“Do you realize that the color of your wood structure is exactly the same color of Junghee’s eyes under the sun? Of course you don’t. So, yeah, more or less, that’s what happened with me.”

His eyes locked to one of the photo. Gwiboon was smiling on it, hair pulled up into his favorite messy bun, one shoulder exposed to the sun flares seeping through his window and touched the glowing skin on it. She looked so serene, the most beautiful he had ever seen, because in this one, he could see the genuine Gwiboon under those rumors, those pointed fingers, those make ups, pretty clothing, cynical comments and cold surfaces she put as masks. She’s the Gwiboon who he fell for.

And his heart clenched for he still vividly recalled how he convinced Gwiboon to let him took that picture of her the minute she opened her eyes, the girl finally gave up after he threatened her he would withheld her favorite shower sex. Worked like magic back then.

And worked like poison now once he realized it’s simply a painful memory left he held tight.

“Can you do me a last favor?”

“Sounds erotic,” he yawned and ready to slither inside Jinki’s comforter, “Both of us knew very well it won’t be the last, but yeah, shoot it.”

***

The house is painted dusted blue, huge window pane by the right far covered with light grey curtain from the inside, preventing people to peek on what’s behind the glass. The porch is not that big, but enough to accommodate couple of wooden chair with small concrete table. There’s no vehicle present in the carport, only an old skateboard leaned to the white wall separating the house with the neighbor.

Jinki nervously double check his phone, reciting the address written on the screen to himself, then make sure the number there is the same with the one placed on the wall.

He has never been here before, clearly. He licks his dry lips for the nth time this morning and glanced to his watch. Ten minutes late. Damn you bridge construction, he mumbled. He’s debating whether he should make a call or just go press the ring bell.

At the end, after another minute delaying himself like a sweaty anxious provincial exam taker, he opted to the second one. Vaguely, he heard someone’s approaching, and the door in front of him swung open inside. A familiar face greeted him with small nod and smile.

“Took you longer than I expected.”

“Well, need some time to make a peace with everything, I guess? I asked your number to Taemin just yesterday.”

“Come on in, then.”

“Thanks, Minho.”

***

cross-posted on my AFF couple weeks ago :)

This one is purposely written to center on Jinki, and the universe rolling around him. I am excited but also quite sad that the next chapter will be the last one. Thank you for reading and following this story. Hopefully, you like this chapter and the upcoming one as well! As usual, I only wish for your happiness wherever you are! Comments are always welcome! XOXO

P.S.: do you know what’s the beeper message mean? Let me know if you can guess! :P

Final

[christinegrrl]

#AGilmoreChristmas Day 17

Title: There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays

Word Count: ~2200

Characters: Jess Mariano, Luke Danes

Prompt: “Jess’ first real Christmas, I just imagine he never really had one growing up?”

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @alspancakeworld for running this again and for having me back! Make sure you check out all the other wonderful works here!

Disclaimer: I really wanted this to be longer and better, but life kinda got in the way, so I apologize for it not being my best work. Also, this is a little bit on the sappy side and may not be 100% realistic, but what is Christmas for if not to be sappy?

There was a tree, with lights and ornaments and even a star. A star that he’d put on. Jesus, he was growing soft.

He could claim that Luke insisted, that he had no other choice to decorating the tree unless he wanted to hear Luke ranting about ‘family time’ and ‘making new traditions’ and all that crap. He could say that he didn’t care that he finally got a tree, after years of begging followed by years of silently pining for something even resembling a Christmas decoration. He could say he wasn’t excited for tomorrow morning when Luke would make pancakes and he would get to open the present his uncle probably felt obligated to get him and he would finally have a half-decent Christmas if he managed not to completely screw it up.

The truth was this: Jess Mariano had never had a real Christmas, so he was actually excited when his uncle dragged in a rugged tree and insisted they throw tinsel and crap on it, even though he knew the man probably would have prefered to ship him back to Liz’s during the break for even two weeks of peace. Hell, Jess had prepared himself to be told he was better off in New York, Luke had done his best but he was a hopeless case. Even with Luke’s flimsy lie about Liz calling and saying that Jess should experience Stars Hollow at Christmastime, he had never expected the tree or the badly hidden presents with his name on them or that he’d be sitting here, on December 24, watching It’s A Wonderful Life with Luke and thoroughly enjoying himself.

Of course, he had complained the whole time, protesting against Luke’s childish ornaments and proposal that they bake Christmas cookies like he had with his mom as a kid and choice in movies (who the hell wants to watch a movie about a depressed guy trying to kill himself on Christmas Eve?)

(He didn’t want to think about that Christmas when he was nine that he spent in the waiting room of a hospital…)

Luke had just rolled his eyes and explained to him that this was the first time in a long while he was able to spend Christmas with family so he was going to enjoy it. (He tried not to think about  what would happen when Luke inevitably stopped putting up with his crap and negativity and shipped him off.)

“So… that was a good movie, I guess? Kind of depressing, for a Christmas movie.”

Jess softly snorted. Was Luke so out of touch with the rest of the world that he hadn’t seen a fifty-year-old movie? He focused his attention on the book in front of him and the page he had been rereading for the past fifteen minutes - the ending of the movie was worth rewatching, okay?

Luke clapped his hands nervously. “Okay. So. It’s getting late, so you should probably head off to bed.”

“Wouldn’t want to give Santa a reason to put double the amount of coal in my stocking this year, now would we?” For all he knew, the poorly wrapped presents he found in the closet were for someone else - he wanted Luke to know he wasn’t expecting anything under the tree tomorrow. His uncle had already done enough by letting him stay here despite how insufferable he had been; Jess didn’t want him to feel obligated.

“Well maybe if you go to sleep Santa will forgive your sins and leave you something under the tree.

“Didn’t know Christmas came with a confessional.” When they had established this comfortable, almost domestic rapport between them Jess had no idea. He wasn’t complaining, though. It was nice to feel safe enough that he didn’t have to blast music every night to fall asleep. Enjoy it while it lasts.

He shook the thought from his mind and moved past Luke to settle on the air mattress. Anyway, he needed Luke to fall asleep so that he could sneak downstairs and fix the newly broken coffee machine - his gift to Luke considering he only had two days notice that they were actually exchanging gifts and little change given the stack of books he had left outside a certain bookish brunette’s window.

“Hey Jess, I meant to ask you: is there anything specific you want to do tomorrow? A dish you normally eat, or a movie you usually watch, or anything like that? I don’t want you to give up your usual Christmas traditions for all the ones I’m making you do.”

Sometimes Jess couldn’t believe how little Luke knew. A part of him was bitter because his uncle knew what a flake Liz could be and yet he still wasn’t there for him when he was younger, but he recognized that Luke had his own life and had he known how bad it had been, he would have intervened a long time ago.

As for traditions, there were plenty of those, though none he particularly felt like repeating. There was the one from five to ten years old where Liz would promise him a gift - and looking back, he believed she fully intended to follow through had she actually been sober or sane enough to remember - and he would wake up on Christmas morning to nothing but her admonishing him for crying and being a spoiled little brat. There was the one where he would steal himself a book each year, the first one being a beautifully illustrated edition of ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, but he didn’t think Luke would be willing to bring that one back. There was the one where he would hum Christmas music to himself before he fell asleep, trying to think of warm fires and sleigh rides and snowmen and anything else besides what he could hear going on in the next room with his mother and her latest boyfriend.

Luke didn’t know about any of those. For a moment, Jess contemplated telling him, maybe the time he realized Santa wasn’t real or the time he really did get coal from one of Liz’s hysterical boyfriends or even the Christmas spent in the hospital. But his uncle didn’t need that guilt on his shoulders, not when he was doing his best now.

“Well, you already ruled out the coal, so I guess all my traditions are off the table.” The joke fell flat as Luke’s face fell in understanding. Not trying to ruin the decent mood they were both in, Jess continued: “Really, Luke, whatever you want to do is fine. I already appreciate having two days in a row off from working in the diner, so I don’t need anything else. You don’t have to do anything special for me. We can just have a normal day.”

Luke’s sad face didn’t dissipate. “It’s Christmas, Jess. You deserve special.” With that, he walked into the bathroom, leaving Jess with a stinging sensation in his eyes that he didn’t want to think about.

He pretended to be asleep when Luke came back out, pretended not to feel Luke rubbing his shoulder in comfort, pretended not to hear Luke’s “Goodnight, Jess. Merry Christmas”, pretended not to acknowledge the realization that he actually liked it here in the cramped apartment with the overbearing uncle in a small, crazy town.

After Luke’s snoring had continued for a good ten minutes, Jess crept downstairs to the empty diner and set to work fixing the coffee machine. “God, this thing is like thirty years old,” he muttered. “No wonder everything in this place is always breaking.” He enjoyed the peace that night came with, liked that he could let his guard down and think out loud.

He thought back to Liz. Even though he resented her for sending him to his own personal circle of hell, she always got really bad this time of year, and he had taken it upon himself in recent years to keep her safe. Against his better judgment, he picked up the phone and dialed her last-known telephone number, instantly regretting his decision when an obviously drunk man picked up, evidence of a party in the background.

“What?” the man snapped. You really picked a keeper this time, Liz.

Jess sighed. “Is Liz there?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Just tell her it’s Jess.”

The man grumbled, but after a few minutes of listening to the infinitely fascinating background conversations of the party (“Man, I’m telling you, Christmas is made up so all those religious nuts can justify spending a shit-ton of money on their kids. It’s all a government conspiracy”) Liz came to the phone.

“Jess? Is that you?” she slurred.

“Liz,” he replied curtly.

“Aw, hi baby, how’re ya doin’? I bet you’re real good. See, I told you that you’d be better in Stars Hollow with your uncle. I jus’ needed a little space is all.”

Jess tried to ignore the pang in his heart at the words. This was a terrible idea. “Right. Well. I just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, baby, I lo-” She was interrupted by raucous cheering in the background, and then all he heard was the dial tone.

Slamming the phone onto its cradle, he tried to calm his erratic breathing. He thought he had gotten over his mother’s indifference to his feelings, but apparently months of not having to interact with her had weakened his ability to ignore her flippant remarks.

His time in Stars Hollow had made him comfortable - too comfortable - with his surroundings, so he barely registered the footsteps on the stairs, only realizing Luke had probably heard him and was coming downstairs to accuse him of stealing Christmas or some shit like that moments before he appeared from behind the curtain.

“Jess? What are you doing down here? It’s the middle of the night. Are you okay? Did something happen?” His concern was evident as he looked the boy up and down to ensure he wasn’t physically hurt.

Here was a man who had taken him in when he had been a pain in the ass, who had tried to give him a real Christmas, who had bought him presents for Christ’s sake, who was genuinely worried when his nephew wasn’t in his bed in the middle of the night. Jess could have cried.

He didn’t; he still was reluctant to show weakness, knowing that weakness always left you vulnerable and people would take advantage of those vulnerabilities. But he didn’t lie, or respond with scathing sarcasm, or comment on Luke being down in the diner without his baseball cap on, surely the first time that’s ever happened. He was just tired. So he told as much of the truth as he could.

He looked his uncle straight in the eye. “I was fixing the coffee machine.” No snark. No concealment. He even would have spilled about calling Liz were it not one in the morning; he really didn’t feel like dealing with the hundreds of questions Luke would have.

Luke looked around, taking in the toolbox on the counter and the red light blinking on the machine and the boy who looked so young in this moment, no pretenses or facades, just a kid. “Okay. Why?” He tried to keep all hints of accusation out of his tone, hoping his nephew would finally open up to him about something.

He looked down at his feet. “I didn’t buy you a Christmas present. I thought maybe this could be it. I know it’s not a lot but…”

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Luke with shiny eyes and a small smile on his face. “It’s great, kid. Thanks. But you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Jess shrugged. “You didn’t either. But you did.” At Luke’s confused glance, he continued: “I found the wrapped presents in the closet a couple days ago. I didn’t open them or anything, but I saw the gift tags. Thanks.” Thanks for putting up with me and trying to give me a good Christmas memory to look back on.

His uncle seemed to know what he meant by the loaded thanks. “You’re welcome. Now, back to bed, or else you really will get coal in your stocking tomorrow.”

Jess smiled as he climbed the stairs. So this is what family does for Christmas. Not half bad.

The next morning would bring delicious-smelling pancakes and hot chocolate and opening up a stack of books (“Rory helped me pick them”) and credit for Andrew’s bookstore and a new green jacket (“I noticed your yellow one was getting worn out and it gets really cold up here, you won’t survive without a good coat” “It gets just as cold here as it does in New York, Uncle Luke”). But Jess was perfectly content, in this moment, staring at the ceiling and hearing Luke’s soft snores way too early on Christmas Day. I guess this is what home feels like. Huh.