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The closer they got, the more shredded his cuticles became. They were now just seven minutes out, and Johnny was slipping a bandaid into his hand.
“Everything’s gonna be fine. They already love ye both,” John said, glancing briefly at Simon before turning his attention to the rear view mirror—Joseph was conked out, apparently—and then back to the road. They had swapped drivers about halfway through their trip.
“Hmmm,” came the anxious grumble.
“Seriously, love. I know yer not a people person, but you don’t need to regress to caveman talk just over my family.”
“Shut up,” Simon shot back.
“It speaks!” John teased him with that infectious smile. The one Simon could never resist returning.
“I said shut up, MacTavish,” but his grin betrayed him.
John’s laugh filled the car, rousing Joseph in the back. It was December 23rd, and they were on their way to Glasgow for Christmas. John and Joseph hadn’t stopped talking about it since the plans were made. And since Johnny was now practically living with them part time, Simon heard about it a lot.
He knew it would be fine…hopefully, probably. John had said as much an exhaustive number of times by now. Assured him that his family was ecstatic to meet them. His mum was already calling Joseph her grandkid in private, apparently, which did something confusing to Simon’s brain, adding to the already muddled associations he had with holidays in general.
“Are we there yet, John?” Joseph piped up from the back, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The poor kid had gotten carsick a couple hours into the drive, then promptly passed out for the remainder of the trip after being cleaned at a rest-stop. Simon had urged Johnny to stay put, to sit in the car and let him handle it. But, as always, he came through for them both with zero hesitation. Like a proper paren—
“Aye, kiddo, just about.” Simon watched as old, well-loved houses flew by his window until John pulled up to a tan one with a small yard. There was an enormous and ancient tabby cat parked at the entryway, lazily eyeing them. Simon heard Joseph let out a small gasp and knew he’d spotted her.
“Can I go pet the cat?” Joseph stage-whispered. “Is that Classy?” His eyes were practically sparkling.
“The one an’ only, go for it!” John beamed at him. Joseph quickly undid his buckle and hopped out, only to pause two steps in and look back, waiting for them before going any further.
“Guess we shouldn’t keep him waitin’, then,” John said with a pat to Simon’s shoulder. His hand moved down to grab Simon’s shredded fingers, gently soothing them over.
“Dinna fret, love. I’m with you.”
Simon took a deep breath, as subtly as he could. He was clunky on the exhale, punctuated by an audible swallow.
“Right, yeah.” Simon would do this. He’d get over himself.
Johnny was with him.
It was early evening by then, the sun already dipped down below the horizon. They’d have dinner, catch up, then hopefully rest. Simon still wasn’t entirely sure who would be in the house at this point, but he was praying it wouldn’t be too crowded.
As they slipped out of their seats to join Joseph, Maggie MacTavish came rushing out the front. “It’s about time!” she called, practically throwing the door off its hinges. Classy startled, but just enough to move a bit to the left and plop back down. Simon could see Joseph freeze, apprehension gnawing at him. Hell, it could never be said they weren’t related.
“Mam! Calm down, yer gonna spook ‘em,” Johnny called. He took Simon’s hand and marched them all forward, herding Joseph like a lost little lamb. His eyes were still locked on the cat.
John greeted her properly with a one-armed hug and offered his cheek for her to kiss. Maggie, just as much the wonder as she’d been said to be, noticed Joseph’s demeanour immediately, shoving her son aside to crouch.
“Hello, Joseph. I’m Maggie, it’s so nice to meet you in person.” She gave him a warm smile. Joseph met her eyes, but didn’t get any further.
“Would you like to pet Classy? She loves pets and attention,” she said, scooping the lump up and handing her off. Joseph took her readily, light returning to his face and a small smile making its way back into the mix.
“Thank you,” he said softly, “she’s so cute.” He held her close to his chest, almost like a security blanket. Simon was grateful, he had been a tad nervous to go somewhere without Riley. But, it seemed Classy would do the trick.
“And you,” Maggie stood back up, zeroing in on Simon himself, “come here ye sweet giant.” She opened her arms, letting him come to her. Though that didn’t stop the absolute bone-crushing hold she had on him once he met her embrace.
“Christ, you’re strong,” Simon wheezed over her shoulder. Maggie simply laughed and held him tighter.
“John’ll get yer bags for ye, cause I raised him right,” she said, shooting Johnny an expectant look. “You and the bairn will come with me, get settled,” she stated, and ushered Simon and Joseph in, paying her own son zero mind. Joseph still had Classy wrapped tightly in his arms, showing no sign of letting her go.
“Thank you, for letting us spend the holiday with you,” Simon said as they toed off their shoes.
“Pshaw,” Maggie waved him off, “we wouldn’t want to spend it without ya. Come on now, Richard should have some tea ready—John said you like earl grey?” Simon nodded and followed along. Sure enough, Johnny’s dad was getting mugs out in the kitchen. Simon slowed a bit, watching his movements. He knew Johnny’s parents, to a point. They had FaceTimed quite a bit over the year, and had been nothing short of lovely.
Maggie was always asking for updates on them—how Joseph was doing in school, how Simon’s work was, how often John “bothered him instead of getting his own shit done”. Richard would sit and listen, inserting his own thoughts or questions here and there. All around, he was a lovely, jovial middle-aged man slightly roughened by years of work and raising three kids.
But that didn’t stop Simon from subtly pulling Joseph closer. Instincts were instincts.
“Well who do we have here on the other side of the screen?” Richard asked. He was all smiles, handing Simon a cup with a firm clap on the back. He tried not to flinch.
“Good to finally meet you properly, son. It’s about time.”
“You as well, thank you for having us,” Simon said. He ducked his head a bit.
Stop, don’t be fucking weird and bow to the MacTavishes.
“Joseph, can you say hello to Mr. MacTavish?”
Joseph looked up, still a bit wary with his newfound security cat. “Hello, Mr. MacTavish.”
“Och, no. Call me Richard, the both of ya.”
………
“So, Simon, is this your first time in Glasgow?” Maggie asked. They were all sitting together around the kitchen table, Johnny having returned from bringing everything up to his old room. Apparently, they had recently switched his bed out to a queen in anticipation of their visit. Simon tried his best to play off his flush through a nervous laugh.
“Yes, for both of us.” He glanced at Joseph, who was nibbling away at a scone with some juice as an appetiser to whatever they had currently cooking in the oven. “The drive over was lovely.” Simon heard Johnny choke on a laugh beside him.
“John’ll have to take you out to the city proper, get some sightseeing in. Calla would probably be thrilled to go with ya. Amy, too, if she can pawn her wee ones off onto James,” Richard said.
“Aye, we can do that, would be nice to get out for a bit at some point. There are a few spots Joseph would like,” Johnny nodded. “When are they getting here, anyway?”
“Tomorrow, we figured you’d want some time to get settled before the true Christmas Eve anarchy breaks out.”
Yes, Maggie, thank you. Simon exhaled just a bit.
“Joseph, you enjoying that, love?” Maggie asked. She doted on him so easily. Joseph nodded with his mouth full.
“Thnk youff.”
“Swallow first,” Simon reminded.
“Thank you.” Maggie was grinning ear to ear, completely smitten.
“Have ye celebrated Christmas before, lad?” Richard asked. Joseph thought for a second.
“Our friend, Price, had us over last year, but that was the day after Christmas. No, wait…yes. The day after. His tree was really pretty, and most of my friends celebrate. I know some of the songs,” he said, gaining enthusiasm as he went and began listing titles. Simon was glad to see him relax a bit. He had been “sneaking” the topic of this trip into conversations for the past week, excited to see if actual Christmas would live up to the hype. It was adorable, and John only fed the excitement, telling Joseph he would have all sorts of treats and special gifts and fun. He spoiled him rotten when he could, and Simon adored him for it.
He was catching himself thinking more and more of Johnny as his co-parent—though he’d never say it out loud. Not yet. They certainly hadn’t reached that point.
“You’ll have to tell the cousins how Chanukah is done when you see them, do a holiday swap,” Johnny said. Right, he had been calling Amy’s kids that for Joseph.
‘Not yet,’ that little voice in the back of his brain hissed.
“Yeah! Next year they can come to London to celebrate,” Joseph said, and Simon could see he was already planning. He smiled and nodded at him, avoiding everyone else’s look. He felt a warm hand caress his forearm under the table.
………
Later that night, laying straight as a board with Johnny tucked into his side, Simon stared at the ceiling. Deft fingers were playing idly with the hairs on his chest, having snaked up the t-shirt he refused to take off.
“You going to braid it while you’re in there?” He asked. Johnny stopped his movements and pinched the skin where he was caressing, giggling like a fool when Simon jolted.
“Haud yer wheesht, lemme love ya,” Johnny laughed. He rubbed the spot in an apology, soothing the remaining tingles.
“You did well today.” Simon levelled him a flat look. “No, stop, don’t gimme tha’. We both know yer an anxious fuck, but I think it went well. Joseph seemed happy, Mam and Dad love you both even more now. They’re very impressed with ye,” Johnny assured. He sounded so damn sincere, too, always managing to put his whole heart into words. Simon wasn’t that good. He didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. So he opted to remain silent.
“What’re you thinkin’ about, love? I can see the gears turning,” Johnny asked. Simon could feel his eyes boring into his flesh. Stripping him bare.
“How do you think we should introduce Joseph to everyone? What should he call them? Will he still call your niece and nephews cousins in person?” Simon mulled it over aloud. Johnny simply groaned.
“Och, Si—“ he cut himself off to bury his face in Simon’s neck, “—he can, I don’t think they’ll question it much. Or we can just introduce them by name, let them sort it out amongst themselves. They’ll probably all be too busy runnin’ around to even care.” Johnny wrapped him in a strong arm and leg, giving his best koala impression. They stayed like that for a bit, Simon trying to gather his next thoughts.
“I’m not tryna force a new family on you, Si…”
“No, no I didn’t think you were.”
“Then what’s this all about?” Johnny sounded small then, and Simon hated that he could make him feel bad about this. He knew how much Johnny's family meant to him. Hell, he loved them, too, technically. There was no reason not to.
“It’s just really…nice. What if we make it a big deal, and then never do it again?”
Johnny switched his impression from koala to boa constrictor, squeezing him as much as possible. Pressing himself into his skin, his bones.
“I know it hasn’t been a year yet, but yer too important for me to let go of that easily. Both of you,” he insisted. “But Ma can stay ‘Maggie’ and Dad ‘Richard’, they don’t have to be Nan and Grandpa yet. There will be other times for that.” He pressed a kiss into Simon’s neck, then his shoulder, and worked his way back up to his jaw.
“I really do love your family,” Simon murmured.
“I know, love.” He could feel Johnny's smile beneath his earlobe. Felt his lips ghost back toward his hairline.
“Whatever you think you’re doing, we’re not doing it in your parents’ house,” Simon said.
Johnny licked at that spot he knew made Simon’s knees buckle. “Aye…but we could.”
He let his boyfriend continue working that spot, adding the barest hint of teeth with a delicious scrape. Let his hands grope at his chest, flit down his ribs, stomach, toward his waistband—
Then flipped them both, pinning Johnny to the bed with a hand over his mouth. Simon dipped down to lay a feather-light kiss right beside a heavy eyelid, watching as Johnny's blue irises were swallowed completely by black.
“Suppose we could,” he whispered into his ear. A low whine was all he got in return. So Simon mirrored Johnny's previous path with his lips, down down down…
………
Turns out Johnny was right—Joseph and the twins, Owen and Leo, were a collective ball of chaotic energy. The three were kicking a football around as hard as they could, while their sister, Willow, was far too interested in their new guest to do anything else.
“Can I see pictures of yer dog?” She asked, sidling right up next to Simon.
“Sure, her name's Riley,” he handed her his phone after searching for a good shot, and paled when she started scrolling. Thankfully, the next photos on either end were tame. Unfortunately, one was of him and Johnny.
“Yer cute together, what’re ye doin’ in this pic?”
“We were getting coffee while Joseph was at Hebrew school.”
“You’re bilingual?”
“No, Hebrew school is just like Sunday school for you,” Simon explained. He actually did speak some Yiddish, but he was not about to demonstrate. The first time Johnny had caught him using it, he managed to unlock childhood memories of Simon and Tommy being dragged to see local Yiddish theatre productions with their mum. She had loved it, being reminded of going with her own parents. It also gave them a bit of reprieve from their dad.
Simon doubts he appreciated that as much as he should have.
“Alright, leave the poor man be. I bet Nan has some treats she’ll sneak ya in the kitchen,” James swooped in for the save, shooing Willow off. He smiled at Simon once she rounded the corner.
“Figure you get enough of children hangin’ on ya both at home and at work. Yer on holiday now,” he said.
Simon let out a huff that could almost pass for a laugh in return. “She’s fine, you have some very sweet kids.”
“Och, it’s all fer show so they can get more outta Maggie while they can,” he waved him off. “Swing by our house on a Tuesday ‘round five and you’ll change yer mind.”
“What was tha’?” Willow asked, reappearing behind her father with a biscuit in hand.
“I said ya have a strong personality, and I hope ye never change, love.” He ruffled the top of her head and sent her off again, matching the faces she threw back his way. Simon decided he liked James. He was a disarming sort—scrawny with a full beard and what could pass as business casual, but with a zip-up jumper thrown on top and festive socks covered in snowflakes.
In the kitchen, Maggie had an assembly line going with Johnny and Amy. She stirred some sauce vigorously while her kids peeled veggies between drinks and traded nostalgia.
“Oy, Simon! Has John told ye about the time he got stuck in the walls tryna play secret agent yet?” Amy asked. Pure mischievous glee seeping from her grin. Amy was quieter than her siblings, but just as spicy, it turned out, when she wanted to be.
“Nae! I haven’t told him yet, thank you very much,” Johnny said indignantly, swatting at his sister. She was cackling, and Simon had to know exactly how that happened.
“No, he sure hasn’t. I think you should,” he egged her on. Johnny shot him a look of betrayal, but Simon knew he’d be easily assuaged with some well-placed shows of affection.
Amy jumped at the chance to embarrass her little brother. “Aye! So he was, what, seven at the time?”
“Seven, yes,” Maggie interjected.
“So he found a crawlspace in the tiny closet by the entrance. He wiggled his way in, figuring he could get around the house and spy on people—”
“—I totally could’ve if ye’d give me enough time!”
“Shush, ye definitely wouldn’t have,” she turned back to Simon, “and I know that because he started cryin’ when he realised, hah!” She broke into a fit of laughter, joined in by Maggie, and even Johnny, at his own expense now.
“Da was lookin’ round and round for where the screeching was coming from, and eventually had to rip out some of the drywall to get to him through the closet because he couldn’t turn around to get out.” The three dissolved into heavy wheezing, and Simon was trying his best to keep his own laughing as even as possible.
He pressed a kiss to John’s head, still holding back giggles at the image of a tiny Johnny getting foiled by his own silly scheme. Simon then offered to help with the dinner prep, only to be batted away by Maggie to “go and relax”, and dashed out after Johnny managed a stealthy ass grab.
Wandering back to the living room, he found Richard watching an old movie with James and Willow. The three of them were cosy, fluffy blankets strewn about every surface. Classy was curled up in Willow’s lap, purring up a storm.
Simon peered out the window and saw Calla showing off her footie techniques to the boys, and opted to join them instead.
“Wait, show my dad what you just did!” Joseph urged the second he noticed Simon was outside. Calla turned, threw him a wink and proceeded to bounce the (soggy, so soggy) ball off her forehead once, twice, three times before she punted it—still with her head—into the tiny net set up.
All three boys screeched in excitement, jumping around her like tiny hype men. “Thank ye, thank ye,” she said with a bow. Simon smiled and clapped, joining in the accolades.
“That was honestly impressive,” he told her.
“I’m not just the prettiest sibling, I’m also the most talented,” she said. Simon snorted.
“Don’t know how I got stuck with Johnny.”
“He’s a persistent bugger.” Something flashed across her face, but it was so brief Simon barely noticed. She checked her watch, then ushered the kids in to clean up. She still had grey water drying on her own face.
Each boy got a biscuit from Maggie after washing, living up fully to her role as Nan. Simon observed the way Joseph smiled at her, so similarly to how he had at his own mother. Brighter than he did at any of the members of the family from Hebrew school they had spent their holidays with the past couple years.
They looked natural in the same room.
Even when everyone was still together in his own family, Simon never quite had…this. All members happily puttering around, nobody stepping on eggshells. A mother, father, kids and grandkids—a poster nuclear unit in three generations.
He remembered when he was thirteen and his father had passed out on Rosh Hashanah before the sun even went down. He, his mother, and Tommy had all huddled in their small kitchen together, splitting an apple three ways and lighting candles as quietly as they could so he wouldn’t wake. They’d played a near-silent game of Uno after.
He recalled when later, after Tommy had gotten clean and Joseph was just a toddler, that they all finally had a close to great holiday together. Close, because the stale remains of years past sat in the back of their minds as they tried to reshape what family was to them.
“...imon…”
One year his mother cut the pretence and simply sent them both nextdoor. They didn’t see her again for two days. It was never, never this.
“Simon.” He blinked and Johnny was there, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Hmm?”
“I asked how you were doin’, love?” Johnny’s smile was warm as always, but Simon could see the layer of concern beneath it.
“I’m fine. Learned that Calla is the talented one of the bunch,” he teased, diverting attention.
“Yeah, Johnny,” she mocked, “I am. Ask my posse, they’ll tell ye.” She gestured around to Joseph, Owen, and Leo, who all nodded in agreement before they were off to G-d knows where.
“Och, nae!” Johnny sputtered. “Ye an’ Amy—bullies, the lot of ya. I’m dead perfect, third time’s the charm.”
Simon wrapped his own arm around Johnny, properly linking them and snorted into the shaved side of his head.
“Yer all equally terrible,” Maggie said, slipping a biscuit into Simon’s hand as she passed by.
“John, Calla, set the table. Amy, go wrangle the bairns and yer husband. Simon—” she leaned in as close to his ear as she could, “—Richard is in our room finishing up the gift wrappin’. Go fetch him for dinner, will ye, love?” Everyone broke to complete their final tasks, and Johnny pressed a quick kiss into Simon’s shoulder before shoving him in the direction of the stairs.
Navigating the second floor as quietly as he could, Simon popped his treat into his mouth. Fuck, that was acutally really fucking good.
He found Richard exactly where he was told—on the floor, wrangling boxes into wrapping paper with the efficiency and complete lack of detail only a middle-aged father could muster.
Simon eyed the scissors in his hands.
“Simon! Come help me finish this shit before Mags sends a whole search party,” he beckoned, pushing a box his way. It was one of the gifts he and Johnny had brought over for the twins, a game that involved the actual throwing of pieces. He loved the concept, but wasn’t sure if it would fly until Johnny let out a maniacal laugh and tossed it into their bag.
He chose a roll of paper—one with little ice skating penguins—and started on his new job with military-like focus.
“So how’s this all been so far? John told us a bit of your background—not too much—left most of it up for you to share as you please. But I hope it’s not been overwhelming,” Richard asked, not even looking up. He was busy searching for a bag to put a charm necklace in.
“It’s been nice. Different, but nice,” Simon answered honestly. “Thank you again, for having us over. You didn’t have to do this.”
Richard stopped then, and turned his attention to him. “Simon, let me tell you something.”
Oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
“John’s always been expressive, but I’ve never seen him so fuckin’ excited about someone before. You should’ve seen the way his face practically melted off when Maggie got him first talkin’ about you and your boy.”
Simon just stared, not sure what to do with that information. He knew Johnny was excited about this. Of course he was, that’s why he was here. That’s why they put up with him being in their house—
“And, she threatened him in this life and the next if he didn’t bring ye both around properly. We’ve all been dyin’ to see ya.” Richard went back to finishing the last of the gifts on his side, shoving another toward Simon. It was the coloured pencils he had gotten for Johnny. A set of 150.
“When we go back downstairs, you should go look at the calendar on the side of the fridge,” Richard said, “it’s got a literal countdown to your arrival.” He met Simon’s eyes again with a quirk of his mouth, a small smile and knowing look.
Simon couldn’t help the tiny huff that escaped him. “Pretty sure Johnny’s got the same thing in his phone.”
“Hah! He would, he was always keen on keepin’ track of things. We’d find lists and little notes just about everywhere from secondary school onward. He’d get so mad if anyone tossed them in the bin.” He laughed, clearly picturing a young, pissy John sputtering about.
They got their final corners taped, bows stuck on (as opposed to Maggie’s expertly hand-ribboned gifts with the ends curled), and labels written. Simon offered Richard a hand, who took it gladly and got up with a groan. He was sympathetic, his joints were also turning on him at this point.
“You know, our kids still think we’re the peak of traditionalism,” Richard said. Simon shot him a puzzled look, not sure where he was going with this.
“What they don’t know is that I didn’t even ask Mags’ father for her hand when we decided to get hitched,” he grinned, “didn’t even ask her at all. She actually asked me. Reckon she got sick of waiting,” he barked a laugh. “We’ve never had a single goddamn expectation of how our kids did things.” He threw Simon a wink and walked right past him, giving him enough space as to not initiate contact and called out to Maggie to let her know they were on their way.
Simon took a second. Took in everything he’d learned. Everything he’d seen so far—the little stocking with Joseph’s name embroidered in it, the rearrangement of Johnny’s room so it comfortably fit two grown men, the nest of blankets and pillows that had begun setup in the sitting room for all the kids to sleep in together.
Then he took a deep breath, shot Price a quick “Merry Christmas” text, and joined the rest of the family.