"Josh, if you don't stop humming that fucking song, I'm going to hit you with my shoe," Orlando says, eyes narrowing in barely concealed annoyance as he slouches against the edge of the desk. Josh just grins back at him. "Man can't sing a carol to liven up the place?" "Not if the man sounds like a sick bullfrog," Joaquin mumbles from where he's sprawled on the sofa, one arm draped over his eyes. "No respect," Josh laments, tossing another card into the tin cup on the dusty floor. "Your sister likes my singing just fine." "That's cause she doesn't know any better," Orlando laughs. His eyes keep darting to Joaquin -- or, rather, to the small strip of skin between Joaquin's shirt and trousers. Joaquin stretches, shifts a little. One eye opens to peer at Josh. "My sister likes frogs," he drawls as he closes the eye again. JesusMaryandJoseph, but he's doing it on purpose. Orlando licks suddenly dry lips, wishing (not for the first time) that he and Joaquin were alone so he could sink to his knees and sample that bit of skin. He loves Josh to death and all -- brothers to the end -- but there are just some things that he's not going to do with Josh around. "She better," Josh is saying, grin wide, even for him. Orlando's eyes narrow -- he knows that smile, and it always means trouble. "Oh?" This time, Joaquin pulls his arm down far enough so he can open both eyes to look at Josh. And that damn grin of his. "Why's that?" "Well, uh..." Josh's gaze shuffles from Orlando to Joaquin, and he sets the deck of cards on the floor. "I've been kinda meaning to talk to you guys about this anyway." "About what?" Orlando scoots over and sinks on the edge of the sofa, still warily watching Josh. "Well, see, um..." Josh takes a deep breath, and stands, fishing around in his pockets. Reverently, he pulls out a small jeweler's box. Orlando's eyes widen. "Josh, is that...?" Josh nods, and clears his throat. He glances from Orlando to Joaquin. "So? Is it, um...do I have your permission, then?" Blinking, Joaquin slowly sits up, then stares at Josh. There's a ring in that box. Of course there is. It's too small for anything else. And Joaquin would have to be stupid to not know what sort of ring it is. But just the idea, man... "You want to marry Rain? My sister?" "Well...yeah. I mean, I love her. You know that, man, I mean, hell, everyone knows I'm crazy about her." "You want to marry my sister?" Joaquin blinks again and wonders if this is a dream. Just the idea that someone actually wants to marry one of his sisters... Orlando has no idea what to say, or even, if he's honest, what someone would say in a situation like this. Yeah, Josh and Rain have been keeping serious time with each other for over a year now, but, marriage? "You think I'm too young, don't you?" Josh asks, and Orlando can see the desperation, the determination in Josh's stance, his voice. "I'm not, you know me. I finished school, you know I got a good job, I can take care of her. But I'm not asking her without your permission, 'Quin. I love you both too much not to do it right." Holding up one hand, Joaquin tries to stem the flood of words coming out of Josh's mouth. "If I don't think 'Lando's too young," he says, when Josh pauses for a breath, "I certainly can't say you're too young. But Jesus almighty...you're talking marriage. To one of my sisters." "I know," Josh replies, serious and soft. "But, honestly, I mean, can you think of anyone else you'd trust her with? I make her happy." "Well, I know, but..." And just like that, the absurdity of the situation hits him. His little brother wants to marry his older sister. Mary, mother of Jesus... Joaquin has to duck his head to hide his grin. "So...I have your permission, then?" Orlando knocks his knee against Joaquin's in warning. "If you laugh at him before saying yes, he'll kill us both," he whispers, grazing the words along Joaquin's ear. "Sure, sure," Joaquin says, voice strangled. Fuck, but it's hard as hell to keep from laughing. "You got it. Ask her." "Yeah?" Josh grins again, full-force, and Orlando has to admit, he's a little blinded by it. "You mean it?" Without waiting for an answer, he whoops and pounces on the sofa, tackling Orlando and Joaquin in a flurry of limbs. "Dear Lord, get this mad man offa me!" Joaquin yelps, trying to avoid an elbow in the nose. Perhaps he should have taken cover before saying yes. "Josh...dammit, geroff!" Orlando shoves Josh, and he tumbles on his back, grin still firmly in place. "Best Christmas ever." "She hasn't said yes yet," Orlando points out, checking himself for injuries. Damn gangly thing, all elbows and legs, it's a wonder what Rain sees in him. "She will." "Still not sure why you'd want her to," Joaquin mumbles behind his hand. He's trying not to laugh again now that he's ascertained his lack of bruises from Josh's very enthusiastic thank you. "That's because you've been too busy enamored with that one next to you to remember what girls are like," Josh chuckles, shaking his head at the both of them. "I remember what girls are like!" Orlando protests. "Uh huh. And how long's it been since you've been with one?" "Least he's not crazy enough to want to marry one of my sisters," Joaquin says, and doesn't bother to hide his laughter. "And I remember girls well enough, man. They're soft in all the right places." "Might do you both some good to get some practice in, so that Rain and I aren't the ones having all the kids." "Plenty of time for kids," Orlando replies, and scoots closer to Joaquin. Kids're a long ways off... And, if Orlando's honest, he's not sure he's ready to share 'Quin with the world yet. Just got him... One arm wraps around Orlando's shoulders and tugs him closer. "So that's why you're wanting to marry her," Joaquin drawls, hiding his grin by burying his face in dark, soft curls. "Well, she ain't pregnant, if that's what you're asking," Josh retorts. "Mmhmm..." Joaquin keeps his face hid, knowing that he can't look at Josh just yet without bursting out laughing. "Man, I don't even know why I'm talking to either of you." "Hey, I'm not doing anything!" Orlando protests, even as he snuggles closer to Joaquin. "Fraternizing with the enemy, aren't you?" "Well, you're the one getting ready to ask for his sister's hand," Orlando points out. "Can't rightly be an enemy, now can he?" "Sure he can, if he's laughing at me. And if you're encouraging it." "Now, Josh," Joaquin says, doing his best not to laugh. He still doesn't lift his head. "Don't be like that. 'Lando ain't done nothing wrong." "Well, you would stick up for your boyfriend. Instead of your future brother-in-law, I might add." Lifting his head just a little, Joaquin risks a peek at Josh. "Aw, now you just sound jealous." He grins. "Rain looks enough like me that you won't mind." Orlando bursts out laughing even as Josh looks scandalized. "That's just sick," Josh says. "Buncha perverts..." "Hey!" Joaquin says, trying his best to look indignant when he just wants to collapse laughing. "That's your brother you're calling a pervert. And I happen to like him just the way he is." "Good thing, the way he's always mooning after you." "I do not moon, thank you," Orlando replies, eyes narrowing. "Don't make me blacken your eye before you propose to your girl, now." "Nah, you're too cozy wrapped around your man there." "True." And, just because he knows it will scandalize Josh further (and because it's been an age since he's touched Joaquin), Orlando bends his head to nuzzle Joaquin's neck. The fingers on Orlando's shoulder tighten a fraction at the soft touch. Joaquin's eyes slide half closed, and he smiles. Poor Josh, man. Looks like his eyes are gonna pop right outta his head. "Like him just the way he is," Joaquin murmurs, lips brushing Orlando's temple. "Yeah, I can see that," Josh murmurs, and shakes his head. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to your cooing. Just don't be late for Christmas Eve Mass or Father O'Malley'll kill you both." "Ain't gonna be late," Orlando replies, then lowers his head again. Sweetest taste on earth, right there at the juncture of Joaquin's neck and shoulder. "We'll be there right beside you on the pew," Joaquin says. One hand lifts in a languid wave, then drops to slide across a stubbled jaw as he tilts Orlando's head for a slow kiss. Fuck, but he's wanted to do this all afternoon. Orlando moans into the kiss, pulling Joaquin back onto the sofa, into his arms. "Didn't think he was ever gonna leave," he smiles, brushing an errant curl from Joaquin's forehead. "Been driving me crazy for the last hour." "His singing wasn't that bad," Joaquin murmurs, with a laugh, shifting so their legs tangle together. "I meant you. All shifting and moving." "Me?" Joaquin blinks, then laughs again. Of all the things... "Was just relaxing, baby." "Stretching and showing off, and you knew I couldn't touch you," Orlando laments, worming his hand under Joaquin's shirt to finally touch warm, supple skin. "Nothing stopping you now," Joaquin points out, shifting to sprawl against the sofa, giving himself over to the intoxicating feel of Orlando's hands on him. "No, there's not." Nothing but the rest of the afternoon stretching before them before Mass and then the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with the families both gathered in the Phoenix house. But, for now, it's just the two of them, and Orlando aims to make the most of it. They've spent so little time together the past few weeks. "Shh, easy," Joaquin murmurs. He sits up just long enough to let Orlando tug the shirt over his head. They've got hours and hours before anyone expects to see them. But first... "Got something for you." "Yeah?" Orlando bites his lower lip in a nervous, pleased gesture as he ducks his head, running greedy hands over Joaquin's bare skin. "Got, um, got something for you, too. Didn't want to give it to you in front of the family." Even though he's certain that, by now, they all suspect the full nature his and Joaquin's relationship, no need to flaunt it. "Yeah." Gentle fingertips trace Orlando's face, and Joaquin smiles. So easy to please him, sometimes... "Top drawer of my desk." "Mine's, uh, in my coat. You...you wanna exchange them now?" "Can you think of a better time?" A slow smile, then one hand curls behind Orlando's neck and tugs him forward for another slow, thorough kiss. "Figure I might want to thank you properly after." "Hope so," Orlando murmurs, ducking his head again with a shy smile. After all this time, 'Quin can still make him feel like a green kid. That smile is going to be his death. But Joaquin welcomes the surge of fierce possessiveness that washes through him, knowing this is a side of Orlando that no one else sees. Another kiss, then he gently nudges Orlando back. "Lemme up, then." "Yeah, alright." It's cold away from the warmth of the sofa and the small gas heater valiantly doing its best to heat the room. Orlando blames the cold on the fact that he's shivering (certainly it's not nerves, of course) as he frees the small, gaily wrapped package from his coat pocket and returns to the sofa to wait for Joaquin. Retrieving the gift from his desk, Joaquin taps the long, slender box against his fingers as he walks back to the sofa. Dropping back down beside Orlando, Joaquin says, "You want to go first, or you want me to do it?" "Uh...I, um...here." Orlando thrusts the box in Joaquin's hand, knowing if he waits, he won't have the nerve to do it. Stupid to be like this, but he can't quite shake the butterflies. Somehow, Joaquin isn't surprised. But he smiles and takes the package, thigh gently bumping against Orlando's. Deft fingers unwrap the box. When he has the top open, Joaquin stops, blinks. "Baby..." He lifts the silver links, watching the pocket watch -- the same silver pocket watch that had been in the front window at O'Grady's for months, the same silver pocket watch that Joaquin had been eyeing for weeks -- twirls as it hangs in front of his eyes. Curling his fingers around it, Joaquin smiles. "Thank you," he says softly, leaning over to brush his lips over Orlando's. Orlando smiles, still trembling, but this time from relief. "There's, ah, there's an engraving on the inside." Which, if he's honest with himself, is what he's really nervous about. But at least Joaquin likes the watch itself, which has to count for something. Right? "Is there?" One eyebrow lifts, and Joaquin smiles. If Orlando only knew how young he looks right now... Still smiling, Joaquin flips open the watch to read the small letters engraved on the inside of the cover. 'Be not afraid of greatness' -- Love always, O. His thumb rubs over the inscription, and Joaquin reads it again. Then he looks up at Orlando. "It's perfect." "Yeah?" Peering over Joaquin's shoulder, Orlando re-reads the inscription (even though he has it memorized). "I mean, I hope it's...well, you know how Josh is always getting on us about...y'know, aiming too high? Well, I figured you could use Shakespeare's words against him. And, um, well, I do. Think you could be great," and Jesus, could someone just shut him up before he makes even more of a fool of himself? Joaquin just smiles and covers Orlando's lips with his. Babbling, baby... When he lifts his head, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and grins. "Last thing Josh is gonna expect is one of us quoting Shakespeare back at him." "Well, he's not the only one that knows how to use a library," Orlando grins, grateful that 'Quin not only likes the gift, but that he hasn't said anything about the fact that Orlando's acting like a kid. Again. "Merry Christmas." "Merry Christmas," Joaquin echoes, pressing his own red and gold wrapped gift into Orlando's hands. "Love you, baby." "Love you," and even if the day were to end right now, this would be the best Christmas Orlando can remember since he really was a kid. And it's not even proper Christmas yet. But Orlando can't think of a better gift than the look in Joaquin's eyes. He leans in for another soft kiss, then turns his attention to slender gift box on his lap. He takes his time unwrapping it, savoring the surprise as long as possible. And his breath simply leaves him when he pulls the ivory-handled knife from the box. Elbows resting on his knees, Joaquin watches Orlando, waits for some sign as to how he feels about the gift. "Figured it was past time you had a proper one," he finally murmurs when Orlando doesn't say anything. "It's perfect," Orlando murmurs, tilting his wrist to let the light catch on the blade. He doesn't need to touch it to know it's razor-sharp. With a lump in his throat, he turns his head to glance at Joaquin. "I won't let you down with it." "Actually..." Joaquin swallows, pleased that Orlando likes the knife. He looks down at his hands. "I want it to be a reminder for you." "Reminder of what?" "'Lando..." Fuck, he can't do this. Taking a deep breath, Joaquin looks up. "Spring'll be here before you know it. And...there'll be baseball tryouts, yeah? I want you...got you a train ticket...to Chicago." "Chicago?" Orlando's brows furrow. "You...what're you trying to say, 'Quin?" "Only thing you've ever wanted to do since you were little was play ball," Joaquin says, not looking away from Orlando. He reaches over, fingertips soothing away the furrows from Orlando's frown. "Baby...I want you to try out, alright? If they...well...I'll still be here." "But...what if I...I'd be leaving you, the family..." Yeah, sure, being a shortstop for the Cubs has been his dream as long as he can remember, and maybe a scout or two had invited him to tryouts, but, well, Chicago's a long way from New York. "Family'll always be here," Joaquin says, quietly. "I will always be here. You have my word on that. But this is your dream, baby." He stops to take a deep breath, finally letting his eyes drop back to his hands. "Chicago's not that far from New York. Not really. And you'll be home in the off season. I can come visit." "You promise?" Setting the knife back in the box, Orlando grabs Joaquin's hands. Holds on tight. "Every chance I get," Joaquin swears, fingers curled tight around Orlando's. "I don't want you to leave, but...don't want you looking back in twenty years and regretting that you didn't try." "Will you...will you come with me? For tryouts, I mean?" "Wouldn't miss it." Orlando lets out a short laugh, amazed at the turn of events, at himself. And at Joaquin, for loving him enough to let him go. "Chicago," he marvels, shaking his head. "Fucking Chicago." And a chance to play in the big leagues. "Just don't forget that this is home." Joaquin smiles, gentle fingers flicking a curl from Orlando's forehead. "Never." It's a soft, solemn vow. "C'mere." It's been long enough that they've been sitting side by side. With a small smile, Orlando straddles Joaquin's lap, lacing fingers around the back of Joaquin's neck. Smiles into familiar green eyes. "I'm here." Always be here, no matter where I go... "Give you the world, you know that?" Joaquin returns the smile, hands settling on Orlando's hips. Just want to make you happy... "I don't want the world," Orlando replies, brushing a light kiss to Joaquin's lips. "Just a small corner of it." And you to share it with me... "Then you'll have it," Joaquin murmurs, and shifts up into the kiss, tongue parting Orlando's lips. Orlando loses himself in the kiss, in the easy give and take of Joaquin's lips on his, their tongues sliding softly together. As long as Orlando lives (and he's got plans to live quite a long time), he knows he'll never get sick of this, never take what Joaquin gives him for granted. "Nice," he murmurs, breath ragged as he runs light fingers over Joaquin's back, tracing along warm skin. "Just nice?" Joaquin laughs softly, fingers working at Orlando's shirt until Joaquin can slide his thumbs underneath. "Nice enough for us not being naked," Orlando grins, then sighs into Joaquin's touch. Another soft chuckle. "You want me naked, you know what to do." "Does that make you my Christmas gift, if I'm getting to unwrap you?" "Guess it does," Joaquin says, leering at Orlando and grinning when he laughs. "That mean I can play with you whenever I want?" Orlando teases, peering at Joaquin through lowered lashes. "Only if you're planning on us living together," Joaquin counters in a lazy drawl, leaning up again to gently catch Orlando's lower lip with his teeth. Living together... That's got a nice sound to it, and Orlando hums his appreciation for the thought in their next kiss. Not having to worry about keeping appearances or sleeping in separate beds most nights, getting to wake up together... "Like that idea, do you?" Joaquin murmurs when the kiss ends, and he can see the tiny smile curling Orlando's mouth. "Well...yeah. I mean," a small shrug, "it'd be nice. Don't you think?" "Waking up next to you every morning?" Joaquin smiles, rests his forehead against Orlando's. "Think I could get used to that. Y'know..." "What?" Orlando plays with the dark strands of Joaquin's hair, smiles back into Joaquin's eyes. "Making enough now that I could afford a place," Joaquin says, softly, as he searches Orlando's eyes. For a split second, it's like someone sucked all of the air out of the room. "You...you mean it? You weren't just...?" "Twenty-three now. 'Bout time I got out the house and on my own, don't you think?" He continues searching those dark eyes, and smiles at what he sees there. "But then...wouldn't really be on my own, would I?" "No! I, um, I mean..." Baby Jesus, but he feels just like he did that first time that Joaquin had taken him. "'Quin, are you sure about this? About..." us. It's not often that Orlando has any doubts at all about what he and Joaquin are to each other, but this is such a big step, and what if Joaquin changes his mind...? "I love you," Joaquin says, simply. "I love you, too," and, just as quickly, all the doubts fade away. What power could they possibly have next to the look in 'Quin's eyes, the conviction in his voice? "I hear they got some nice new two bedrooms over on 9th." "We'll go look at 'em tomorrow." Joaquin grins, brushing his lips over Orlando's once more. "Maybe ring in the new year in our own place, yeah?" "Tomorrow's Christmas," Orlando points out, but he can't keep the giddy, little boy grin off his face. The idea of just the two of them, their own place... "Day after, then." Fuck, but it's the best feeling in the world to see Orlando grinning like that. "You know your Mama and mine are gonna drop by all the time, just to make sure we're eating right." "Means we'll just have to keep a second bed in the spare room." "Long as I never have to sleep in it," Orlando replies, brushing another kiss across Joaquin's lips. "Never," Joaquin murmurs, then surges up into the kiss, arms wrapped tight around Orlando. It's a long time before Orlando lifts his head, heart feeling like it's about ready to burst out of his chest. "Not gonna let my side of the bed get cold when I'm on the road, are you?" he asks, feeling, at the moment, that he could hit a hundred home runs, field a hundred plays, and still have energy left over. "Gonna make sure I keep it nice and warm for you." Anything to make Orlando happy, and Joaquin knows it's true. Knows he'd cut off his arm if that's what was needed. He wraps his arms tight around the slender frame, presses his face hard against a warm throat. "Love you so fuckin' much, baby." "Love you more," and so what if he sounds like his sisters. Man's entitled to get a little emotional at Christmas. He tightens his hold on Joaquin, and presses a kiss to riotous curls. "Seem to remember something about unwrapping a certain Christmas gift..." "Was wondering if you'd forgot about that," Joaquin laughs, sliding both hands under Orlando's shirt and up his back. "Madder'n a hatter if you think I'm gonna forget getting you naked." "Then I suggest you get about it," Joaquin drawls, falling back on the sofa and draping his arms across the back of it. "Christmas won't be here forever, baby." "Christmas may not," Orlando murmurs, brushing a kiss to Joaquin's lips, "but I will." He slides off the sofa a moment later, nimble fingers already undoing Joaquin's trousers. "Counting on it," Joaquin whispers. One hand drops to slide through soft curls, and he lets his head fall back, eyes closing, as warm hands slide over his skin. Onto Birthday
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