Secret Santa
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Summary:
An accident leaves Dearka in pain, Yzak angry, and their planned Christmas wrecked. But all they really need to celebrate Christmas is each other...
Merry Christmas, Babe
Yzak helped Dearka settle himself on the couch and then stood there with hands on hips to continue berating him. "It's your own sodding fault! If you'd been less clumsy you wouldn't have got hurt in the first place. And if you'd accepted the painkiller they wanted to give you at the hospital you wouldn't be feeling like shit now!"
Dearka said nothing through all this, just leaned back tiredly against the high back of the couch with his eyes closed. He knew he just had to wait till Yzak worked the fright out of his system, and then the rage would fade....
If he'd felt like defending himself he could have pointed out to Yzak that he couldn't just let that kid get smacked by the car that mounted the footpath, not when he was close enough to dive and scoop him up out of the way. Though protecting the boy with his body as he fell had meant slamming rather heavily into the base of one of the ornamental raised flowerbeds that decorated the city's shopping precinct...
He must have drifted for a moment, as he was next aware that Yzak had fallen silent, and was bending over, slipping the shoes from his feet. An arm thrust behind his knees and lifted his legs up onto the soft surface of the leather couch.
"Hey, I'm OK, Yzak. You don't have to do that! I'll be moving around in just a minute."
Another glare. "Don't be an even stupider prick than you've been already. I only managed to spring you out of that damned hospital by promising the doctor that you'd rest at home and be monitored for any signs of concussion. Just because they couldn't find a crack in that hard head of yours, doesn't mean that there isn't some soft-tissue damage. So just shut up and let me get on with it, will you!"
Meekly: "Yeah, OK, Yzak. I guess I should thank you for getting me out of that place."
Yzak grimaced. "Well, I wouldn't leave even an arsehole like you there on Christmas Eve. Though why I'm being kind to you, when you've just totally fucked our skiing holiday, I don't know. I'm not going to let you forget that!"
Yzak stalked off, leaving Dearka to his own dismal thoughts.
Hell, he was as disappointed as Yzak. It would have been their first peace-time Christmas alone together, just the two of them. No friends or family, no fellow ZAFT members, just Yzak and him in a cabin at a ski resort on Februarius Three. The same resort that his father used to take them to for skiing holidays when they were kids. Ezalia Joule was often busy round Christmas time while they were growing up, and Yzak had spent more Christmas holidays with the Elsmans than with his mother or the few relatives that he had.
Today's little incident - while they were out doing some last minute shopping before catching the Februarius shuttle - had certainly crushed any hope of the vacation they'd both been looking forward to. So here they were on Christmas Eve, in the Joule mansion, where all the servants had been given the holiday off.
Ezalia was far away on Earth attending a Christmas function sponsored by Lacus Clyne's charitable foundation. You had to admit the woman had guts. Considering she had ruined her political career by supporting Patrick Zala in his efforts to exterminate the Naturals in the first war, risking her neck to attend a function on Earth was pretty extraordinary. Sometimes Dearka could see where Yzak got some of his personality traits; the good
and the bad.
Dearka's own father was tied up in a dreary conference on the Moon which was scheduled to finish on Christmas Eve. As it happened, the PLANTs' Lunar consul was an old political crony of his father's. He had accepted her invitation to spend the festive season with her and her family, rather than making a tiring rush back to Aprilius One after the conference. Dearka knew he would have to get a message to his father before too long, to let him know about the accident and that he didn't have to worry.
It was going to be a bleak Christmas though, with their plans in disarray and Yzak so mad at him....
Dearka's doleful train of thought was broken by the sudden descent of a something soft and warm across his body. He opened his eyes. Somehow without Dearka hearing his approach, Yzak had come back and flung a rug over him. Before he could even say thanks, he abruptly felt an arm around his back lifting him, and the softness of a pillow slide into place.
"Th-thanks, Yzak."
Yzak ignored the remark. "What's the pain level like, one to ten?"
"Only about a two," Dearka lied.
"Huh! That means a four, I know you, you bastard! Right, I'm getting some food into you, and then you're taking one of those pills the doctor left with me. And I'm not taking no for an answer!"
"Aw, do I have to Yzak? It's Christmas Eve. Hell, it might even be Christmas by now, and I'll be all muzzy if I take that damn stuff!"
Yzak glared. "I sometimes wonder if you're the most juvenile prick in all of ZAFT! So what if it's after midnight? Happy fucking Christmas! You are in
pain Dearka, and in case it had escaped your attention, you are in an undecorated house, with no festive food and no presents. It's not as if you'll be missing some big party!"
Dearka smiled up into Yzak's angry face. "I've got your present, Yzak. Let me give you that! We could listen to some Christmas music and just...sit together for a while."
The last was said in an unsteady rush, because Dearka was feeling shaky and would really have liked to ask for a hug, but in Yzak's present mood, that wasn't likely to happen. Yzak had been boiling with anger from the moment he discovered that Dearka was still breathing, though scraped, bruised, and bleeding from a head gash after the encounter with the planter box. He'd sat there on the street waiting for the ambulance, supporting a groggy Dearka in his arms, and had yelled at the mother of the poor little sod Dearka rescued, for not keeping better hold of her brat...
Yzak's anger stalled at Dearka's plaintive request. He found himself looking down into violet eyes that smiled even though shadowed with pain. The scraped flesh down the side of Dearka's face must hurt, too, when he grinned like that. How the hell did he stand it?
Yzak made himself unclench his fists and draw a long breath. If Dearka wanted Christmas, then he would do his best to give him some Christmas...at a price. "All right, I'll make a deal with you. I will find some music and dig the presents from our bags upstairs; in return you will eat some food and take a pain pill. Deal?"
Shit, negotiating Christmas. It's like dealing with a six year old...Yeah, a 'six year old' with the guts to nearly kill himself to save some kid and who makes your backbone go mushy by just grinning at you like that...
Dearka's voice was suddenly husky: "Thanks, Yzak. You've got a deal. Maybe we could have the fire on, too? Just for the look of it."
Aprilius One's city government had a no-snow policy; it considered the expense and the risk of disruption to vital administrative functions too great to bother with true winter weather. So the most Aprilius One ever got at this time of the year was moderately cold. Still, the gas-powered mock 'fire' in this room would look more cheerful and take away any slight chill...Yzak turned the lights to a lower setting and then switched on the fire as he left for the kitchen at the rear of the mansion.
He checked the well-stocked pantry and came up with some pouches of chicken soup and some crackers. Not exactly festive fare, but it would put something into Dearka's stomach to cushion the painkiller...He set the soup to heat and dashed upstairs to look in the packed bags they had left in his room before making that ill-fated trip into town.
He quickly retrieved his own neatly wrapped present for Dearka. Dearka's to him took a bit of digging; for some reason he'd buried it in a nest of his underwear of all things, in the bottom of his bag. There appeared to be two packages, neither of them looked very well-wrapped so Dearka had probably done them himself. One was a soft sausage shape, and the other a small rectangular box. The Christmas wrapping depicted snowmen in little red hats; Yzak found himself smiling at the ludicrous paper despite his mood.
A few minutes later, as Yzak walked towards the den balancing soup, crackers and presents all on the same tray, he was greeted with Christmas music from the room's sound system. Dearka must have got up from the couch to put on the music. Damn, he should have done that before he left!
"What the hell do you mean by getting off that couch!" barked Yzak. "Bloody music's not that vital and if you'd got dizzy you could have fallen and hurt yourself!"
"I'm fine, Yzak, honest, and I moved really carefully." Dearka grinned ruefully. "I'm sore enough that anything other than careful is not much of an option at the moment."
Yzak put the food on a nearby table, went over to the couch where Dearka was sitting, and once again carefully picked up his legs and swung them round so Dearka was again half sitting half lying down. A flick brought the rug back over the legs and Yzak gave Dearka a gentle but definite prod in the chest with his forefinger. "Stay here!"
Dearka grinned cheekily. "Yessir!"
Yzak shifted the presents on to the table, and then placed the tray on Dearka's lap.
"Right. Hot chicken soup and some crackers. You will eat this. When you have finished eating you will take a pain pill. Then we will do presents. Understood?"
All this was said in the incisive tones which Dearka had heard Yzak use to outline mobile suit missions in the bad old days. But the anger was no longer apparent in the voice.
Good, he's coming out of it. Maybe I'll get a cuddle out of him yet...
Once he was certain that Dearka could cope with the tray and the hot soup, Yzak went back to the kitchen and fetched his own, along with the water and medication. Somehow he didn't want to be too far away from Dearka, so he sat on the floor with his side leaning against the base of the couch, close enough to Dearka to grab the tray if it tilted, or reach him easily if he needed other help. Several minutes of companionable silence passed, with only the music, the crunch of crackers, and in Dearka's case the slightly messy slurping of soup through a sore mouth.
A Christmas carol started on the sound system. Dearka looked up from his food and smiled at Yzak.
"Hey, remember that one? Always liked that. You used to do a pretty good soprano version of it when we were kids, Yzak!"
Yzak snorted. "Those memories are more than overlaid with your horrible karaoke rendition of it that Christmas on the Vesalius. I thought Nicol was going to puke. Must have been his sensitive musical ear..."
Dearka grinned. "He did puke later in the evening, but that was only because Rusty had spiked the punch."
A shadow passed over Dearka's face, erasing the happy memories of that years-ago Christmas. He recalled the deaths of the two boys who had been laughing and joking that night in the mess. Neither of them had lived to see another Christmas...
Yzak was watching the play of emotions over Dearka's face. He reached up and gently squeezed his leg. "You finished? If you are, I'll take the tray."
Dearka looked fondly down into his lover's face. He got the silent message. There was no value in dwelling on a painful past. Soldiers died in wartime; it might easily have been one or both of them, instead. Just get on with living.... "Yeah, thanks, Yzak."
Yzak reached up and swung the tray down on to the floor beside him, where he had the water and pain pills ready. He handed them up to Dearka. "Remember, we have a deal, arsehole!"
Dearka smiled. "Yeah, I'm not going to rat out on you, Yzak."
Maybe it was the memory of dead comrades, maybe some echo from the fear and anxiety that had swamped him while waiting to hear from the doctors at the hospital, but something rose in Yzak's chest and forced the words out without his conscious will: "I bloody well thought you had, this afternoon!" Yzak's hand closed into a tight fist where it had had returned to lie on the rug over Dearka's legs.
Dearka dropped the pill bottle onto his lap and covered Yzak's fist with his hand. "Sorry I ...ruined our holiday..."
Can't say sorry I frightened you because I know you will never admit to fear...
Yzak didn't take his hand away, but all he said was "Take the bloody pain pill, will you!"
Dearka knew that anger was a bridge that had carried Yzak over pain and fear many times in his life. Yzak was comfortable being angry; he knew where he stood then, emotionally speaking. But there was a time for the anger to be over, too...
Dearka swallowed down the water and the pill, never taking his eyes from Yzak's. "You plan to be mad at me all Christmas?"
Yzak took the pill bottle and the glass and put them nearby on the floor. He looked up at Dearka again. "You deserve it, pulling a stunt like that. You could have been killed!"
"You would have done the same thing yourself, Yzak, if you'd been the one nearest him. Admit it!"
"If I had, I'd have made a better a job of things so I wouldn't ruin Christmas and frighten the shit out of people!"
Dearka understood perfectly who "people" was in this context. He grinned down into those intense blue eyes. "Aw, Yzak. Don't be mean. Just because I don't always live up to your high standards..."
Yzak looked a little mollified. "Well, I suppose I had better keep my part of the bargain, now. I'll get the presents."
He fetched them from the table, and lightly dropped the one from him to Dearka on Dearka's stomach. It was professionally wrapped in gold paper, with a modest bow.
Dearka smiled. "Thanks, Yzak." He pulled his feet up, making room for Yzak at the end of the couch. "You could sit there and I'll use you for a foot warmer."
Yzak took up the invitation and sat as directed. Dearka happily moved his socked feet on to Yzak's lap, looking more relaxed than at any time since they had come back from the hospital. Yzak decided the pain relief must be kicking in fast.
Mmmm... even touching Yzak feels better. Now, if I can just get him to mellow out a bit more...
"I'll open mine first" said Dearka. "I want to watch your face when you see yours."
Yzak looked at the two packages sharing his lap with Dearka's feet. "Why doesn't that fill me with anticipation?" he said with dry sarcasm.
Dearka, busy shredding gold wrapping paper, grinned to himself. Things were looking up; Yzak was sounding more normal all the time!
Yzak's gift to Dearka turned out to be several best-selling e-novels and a new computer game that Dearka had been lusting over.
"Gee, thanks, Yzak. They're great!"
Yzak smiled sardonically. "You'll be able to add them to the others on your terminal at headquarters."
Dearka's face froze in mid-grin. How had Yzak found out about his file of entertainment for those boring moments at work, when a little diversion was absolutely called for? He wisely decided not to make any response.
"So, how 'bout you open yours, now?"
Yzak went for the badly wrapped box first. He lifted the lid; his eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. He reached in gingerly with the thumb and index finger of each hand, and carefully pulled out the two items: a black velvet bowtie on an elastic velvet throat band and a pair of handcuffs. He held each of them dangling in the air and shot an icy look at Dearka. "Would you mind explaining what these are meant to be?"
"Ah, they were hopefully going to be some of the entertainment in our ski cabin on the long cold nights...."
Aw, come on Yzak, you didn't leave your damn sense of humour back on that street did you?
Yzak let each item drop back into the box. "I see. We'll discuss this another time when you're well enough to have your face punched." The statement was said so dryly and expressionlessly that Dearka, even after all these years, couldn't be certain whether Yzak was indulging in black humour or giving fair warning.
Maybe a bit of both.
"Right. Moving along, how 'bout opening the other one, Yzak. It's even more fun!"
Yzak looked with disfavour at the sausage-shaped second package. It didn't have a lot of weight, but the look of it was somehow...suggestive. He shot the innocently smiling Dearka a look of deepest suspicion. "Just what the hell is this one then?"
"Only one way to find out, Yzak!"
Yzak sourly pursed his lips like a maiden aunt reacting to an off-colour joke, and ripped off the wrapping. It was a slightly battered looking Christmas cracker. He shot a look of wordless puzzlement at Dearka, who was grinning in somewhat nervous anticipation now, like he expected the thing to actually explode, and was no longer certain if that was such a good idea.
"Come on Yzak, I'll pull one end, you pull the other."
Gotta get the right end so he gets the gift...
With a long-suffering look Yzak extended the cracker to Dearka who checked which end he'd been offered. Satisfied that all was well, he gripped it. At his nod, he and Yzak pulled. There was a small 'snap' and the larger portion of the cracker was left in Yzak's hand. He peered into it, and fished out a small jeweller's box.
Dearka suddenly looked serious and a bit vulnerable. "Merry Christmas, Yzak!
Yzak opened the box. It contained a man's signet ring in rose gold, beautifully engraved, with the initials YJ.
"There's an inscription, too," said a slightly husky Dearka.
Yzak turned the inside of the ring to the firelight. Inside the band it simply said:
I love you. He looked at Dearka who smiled mistily back at him. "It should fit, Yzak. I took the measurements off that signet of your grandfather's you sometimes wear at dinner parties. It always looked pretty good on your hand...but I thought you might like your own..."
Yzak looked gravely at Dearka, extending the ring to him on the palm of his left hand. "Will you put it on my hand for me?" Dearka gave him a tender smile and slid it on the ring finger of Yzak's left hand. The fit was good; the gold glowed in the mellow light from the fire.
Dearka watched Yzak's face as he gazed down at the ring. He looked up into Dearka's eyes with an uncharacteristically gentle and slightly bewildered, expression. Dearka saw him swallow hard. It wasn't often one saw Yzak Joule at a loss for words...
Hell, I can't...I...Damn you Dearka, why do you do things like this to me...Just kiss him, idiot...
He slipped from beneath Dearka's feet and knelt by Dearka at the other end of the couch. "How much will it hurt if I kiss you?"
Dearka smiled into blue eyes shining in the firelight. "Not a problem, Yzak."
Yzak slipped his arms around Dearka and covered his mouth in what started as a gentle kiss. Gradually as tongues and lips worked against each other the kiss became more demanding and Dearka couldn't control a small flinch. Yzak swiftly broke off the kiss, breathing heavily.
"You shouldn't have let me do that, Dearka."
"I don't care." Dearka lay there with his heavy eyes closed. Somewhere the pain in his body was losing the battle with the hospital's medication, but that couldn't do anything for his other pain. This did. He'd been longing to feel Yzak's arms around him for hours. Just been waiting patiently till Yzak's mind was in a state where that was possible. The scent and feel of Yzak against him was comfort and allure, cutting through all misery, all fatigue...
He felt bereft as Yzak's arms slipped away from him. "No...Don't! Yzak...!"
"Shh! I'm not going far. There's a kind of kiss that
won't hurt you...."
He felt the rug lifted from his legs, and Yzak's hands undoing his pants. He didn't know if he was even capable of getting an erection with the combination of pain, fatigue, and medication flooding his body. Then he felt familiar loving hands caressing him and the first firing of nerve endings in reaction to that accustomed touch.
Well, that answers that question..... He chuckled muzzily.
Yzak could arouse me if I was half dead...
"So, you like that do you Dearka?"
"Yeah, I- uhh! Aw yeah... that's go-o-od!"
And then Yzak's warm wet mouth took him, and coherent thought became elusive. Maybe it was the medication or maybe Yzak had decided to draw things out, but the climb to the pinnacle seemed long and slow. His heart was pounding and he writhed against the leather couch, fruitlessly trying to find something on its shiny surface to grip with his hands. Anything to relieve some of the tension coiling up through the pit of his belly, on and on...
He could hear his voice like it was another person's. Just broken words in a stream: profanity, endearments, pleas to Yzak, he didn't know for what....And then the release came: an intense pang of pleasure. It expanded from his groin to sweep his entire body in a shockwave that paralysed his lungs for long moments...And then he was floating down the other side and breathing was possible again. A wave of gentle fatigue swept through his body in the aftermath.
He was drifting somewhere, without pain or thought, when he felt a soft wet cloth very gently wiping him, then another dry one passed as gently over his lower stomach and groin. Yzak was cleaning him up. He felt the tenderness and caring in that; as tangible as any hug. He managed to capture one of the hands without moving too much or opening his eyes. He felt boneless, right on the edge of sleep.
"Love you...Merry Christmas, Babe..." And then warm darkness swallowed him.
Yzak knelt beside Dearka, cloth in one hand, Dearka's now limp and unresisting hand in the other. He carefully placed Dearka's hand on his chest, smoothed his underwear back into place and re-fastened his pants. He covered him again with the rug. The mix of painkiller and endorphins following orgasm would probably keep Dearka asleep for several hours. Yzak thought of all the useful things he could do while Dearka slept, and knew that he was not going to bother with any of them. He couldn't bear to leave him.
He returned to the far end of the couch, and carefully lifting Dearka's feet, slid himself down, placing them back on his lap. He would just sit here, in case Dearka needed something. He loosely clasped a hand round one of Dearka's ankles. If he should doze and Dearka tried to get up, the movement would wake him.
He looked at Dearka's face lying there on the pillow, highlighted with the flickering light from the hearth. There was already a suggestion of drool coming from Dearka's slack mouth. Snoring could not be far away, as his sleep deepened.
And even like that you still melt my heart, you bastard...
Yzak felt relaxed and at peace for at least this moment in time. He looked down at the gleam of gold on his hand. It gave him a warm feeling he had trouble defining. But his mind was absolutely clear: he knew that his true Christmas gift was a live Dearka lying here with him on the couch....
Yzak didn't think Dearka could hear him, but just to be safe he whispered it: "I love you, too. Merry Christmas, Babe."
