Walker Advent calendar: Flap #19

Rate: PG-13
Disclaimer: Just borrowing.
Summary: A Christmas tale.
Spoilers: None.
Word count: 421

On the Saturday of the 19th of December, Kevin looks up from his papers just about the same time as his husband swirls by carrying a big box marked “Xmas”. However, it is not the big box that has attracted his attention, but the song now playing from the computer in the corner of the living room.


“What are we listening to?” Kevin asks, doubt in his voice.

“Christmas music, Mr I’m-so-boring-that-I-have-to-work-on-a-Saturday-before-Christmas,” Scotty replies.

“You know that it’s so I can be totally free from work during Christmas,” Kevin says, doing his best puppy eyes so Scotty will pity him.


The trap works, and Scotty pouts, putting out his lower lip in sympathy, kissing Kevin on the lips before returning to the box.

“So what are we listening to? It sounds like a children’s song,” Kevin asks again.


“Oh Tannenbaum,” Scotty informs. “It’s one of my mother’s favorite Christmas songs, it’s very happy childhood Christmas for me.”

“It’s in German,” Kevin states.

“Yes, about a tree,” Scotty fills in, not letting Kevin’s sarcasm get to him. “One that is green all year round.”


“Did you study German, because you know, that is kind of sexy,” Kevin says, leaning back on the couch to mark that he is taking a break from the work on the table before him.


“You know I almost flunked French,” Scotty says, sitting down on the arm rest of the couch, holding a small ceramic Santa in his hands. “And that’s about it,” he says as the last notes of the song fills the apartment.


“For a moment there I was imagining you to give out orders in German, with subtitles and everything,” Kevin says, playfully sliding his hand down Scotty’s thigh.

“Sometimes you scare me, Kevin Walker,” Scotty says, bends down and kisses Kevin once again, and then gets up to place the Santa he’s been holding.


He puts it on a shelf, takes a few steps back and examines the placing. He nods approvingly and returns to the box, picking up a red glass star with a thread running through one if its points.


“I’ll put this in the window in the bedroom,” he says and disappears. Kevin smiles and leans forward to his papers again. Somehow it seems less alluring to go through the communication strategies of 2010 than to Christmas decorate the apartment with your husband. Kevin thinks no further, but quickly gathers the papers into one sloppy pile, putting it in a file before following Scotty into the bedroom.


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