Work Text:
Jon fidgeted with his hands as he walked about the store. Gift-giving always made him anxious, and certainly this was no exception. It was Martin and his first proper Christmas together. Neither he nor Martin were exactly religious, but Martin had told him that he'd grown up celebrating Christmas and never stopped, even though it had lost its religious aspect. Jon had never celebrated himself, but he'd always wondered. And when Martin brought up the topic, asking if Jon wanted to do anything, Jon agreed easily. Which led him to walking up and down the yarn isles of a local craft shop two weeks before Christmas, completely out of his element.
It didn't take long to figure out what he wanted to give Martin. The execution was the problem. Yarn, knitting, crocheting - really anything that wasn't academic - wasn't something he knew much about. He always listened when Martin talked about it, but that only went so far. He refused to ask an employee, though. Even if they almost certainly would know how to help him.
But Jon stood in the isle for another fifteen minutes before help came to him.
"Need any help?" Jon jumped, and looked to her, frozen for a moment. The employee looked slightly younger than he was, and wore an employee badge with the name Freddie and the pronouns she/they below it.
"Er-" he started. He obviously did need help, he had no idea what he was doing, but he also didn't want to admit that. He furrowed his brow as he debated himself, before finally giving a sheepish, "Yes, actually."
The next few weeks were filled with frustration and hiding. He and Martin were hardly apart if they could help it, which Jon wouldn't change for the world, but it was rather annoying when trying to prepare a gift for one's loving boyfriend. There was a brief two hour window between when he got home from work and when Martin got home from work, and he took full advantage of it. That gave him ten days to get it ready.
It had seemed like plenty at first, because surely twenty whole hours would be more than enough. He hadn't accounted for struggle. He really should have, nothing ever went perfectly smoothly for him, but he didn't. He internally face palmed.
Thankfully there was some progress by day five, enough to know it should be done in time (lest something go drastically wrong, which was always a possibility, knowing himself) but only just. So he persisted. Every day, as soon as he got home, he got straight to work. He kept as careful eye on the time as he could, always starting to remove the evidence fifteen minutes early, just in case.
The days before Christmas sped by, quicker than they had any right to. By the day before Christmas Eve (Christmas Eve Eve, Martin had jokingly said that morning), Jon was slightly panicking. But it was fine. He still had two days. Four whole hours! Well, three hours and thirty minutes, really, but who was counting.
He was. He was counting. He counted the hours and knew that he should have enough time, but worried that he wouldn't. He got home as quickly as he could, starting his work as quickly as possible, and going for as long as he possibly could. On Christmas Eve, he had put the last of the evidence away and placed the gift under the tree. Immediately after, Martin opened the door. Jon sighed in relief, though, because he finished. He was done, and now he could spent the next entire say with his beloved, caring, wonderful boyfriend, who would hopefully like the gift he had made for him.
They cooked dinner together that night. They usually alternated cooking - though they both knew Jon was the better cook - but occasionally they had time for the treasured domesticity of cooking together. The evening was filled with soft cheek kisses as one moved to grab something near the other, brushes of touch whenever they could, and closeness as much as possible. As Jon finished pan cooking the last of the vegetables, he felt Martin wrap his arms around him from behind, and couldn't help but smile stupidly. God, he couldn't believe he had this. After all that had happened, they can finally just be together.
They ate in relative silence, and went up to bed just as quietly. After they changed, they cuddled together close, and fell asleep in each other's arms.
"Jon? Jon?" Martin's voice, softly saying his name, slowly brought Jon to consciousness. He blinked blearily before finding focus on his boyfriend's face.
"Martin?" He said sluggishly, still waking up.
"Good morning," Martin grinned. "It's Christmas!" He said excitedly. Jon blinked, then smiled.
"Oh, is it? I had no idea," he tried to say dryly, but he couldn't hide the affection in his voice. Martin leaned down and kissed him.
"C'mon, get up now," Martin urged.
"I suppose," Jon agreed with faux annoyance. He kissed Martin again before forcing himself to get up. Martin waited for him to come closer to hold his hand. They walked to the tree hand-in-hand, and Jon leaned his head on Martin's shoulder.
Jon unfortunately had to let go of his hand to bend down and grab Martin's present, though. Next to it sat one he did not put there. It was roughly the same size, but had different paper and a different bow.
"Oh, I'm going first, am I?" Martin teased.
"Yes, you are," he responded matter-of-fact. He heard Martin sit down on the couch and turned to sit next to him. Martin gave a love-sick smile when he took the present, which Jon returned just as sickly sweet (though he'd deny it).
Jon leaned on his shoulder as Martin tore through the paper and opened the box, moving slightly as Martin's arm moved but not minding. Out Martin pulled a crocheted highland cow, with reddish-brown yarn for fur, lanky front legs that but it in a sitting position, slightly floppy ears that stuck out behind horns, and tuft of hair on top. It was a bit messy, admittedly - obviously handmade by someone who didn't really know what they were doing - and the eyes were a little crooked on the face, but Jon had spent hours trying to get it right and hoped Martin would like it.
Martin, for his part, looked at it in surprise for just a moment, before asking, "Jon, did you make this?" voice full of awe and love.
"Yes," Jon said, slightly nervously. After a moment, Martin burst out laughing. Oh, no. He hated it, didn't he? "I - I'm sorry, you don't like it, do you, oh I should've -"
"No, no, it's not that, I love it, it's adorable!" Martin assured quickly, still laughing. "It's just... Here!" Jon grabbed the present handed to him, still glancing nervously at his boyfriend's still-laughing face. He hesitantly opened it. Inside, there was a crocheted highland cow, the same in shape and size as the one Jon had made, but clearly made by someone far more skilled. Most notably, though, its fur was much darker. Jon stared at it in surprise for a moment, then looked at Martin. Finally, he joined his boyfriend's laughter and wrapped his arms around him.
"Really, you made this, Jon? When?" Martin asked after a little while of them hugging.
"When I got home from work, before you got home. Since two weeks ago. This nice person at the yarn shop helped me get good yarn and figure out how to get started." He felt Martin squeeze him tighter.
"Thank you, Jon." Jon pulled back slightly to look at his boyfriend's eyes, which were filling with happy tears. "I love you."
"I love you, too. Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas."
And so, they cuddled on the couch for as long as they could, until they finally remembered to eat hours later. Their first Christmas was perfect, though Jon knew it would be perfect even if all they did was cuddle in bed all day. As long as they were together, anything would be good. Jon was so glad they finally could have this together.