The Rest of the Story

A/N: Okay, this one's a Christmas theme. Partially, it's a request of Sadler_girl on lj. She really likes my Frank/Kain pairing. I also had a request from samuraigirlrf on ff.net. So, I am sharing with everyone.

Happy Christmas

Frank huffed as he sat down on the sofa beside Kain. “I have to work late on the 24th,” he said.

“I thought you didn’t mind doing the late shifts,” Kain said, turning slightly to look at his lover better. “And you get the next day off, right?”

“I don’t mind them, and yes I do.” Frank looked over at Kain. “I know this seems ridiculous, but if I was back home…” Unintentionally, Kain winced at that, though he knew Frank would probably always consider Earth his home. He had spent around forty years there, and only a few months here with Kain, and yet it hurt. “I didn’t mean it like that. If I was back home with my mother, my childhood home, Kain.” Frank took the younger man’s hand, looking at him imploringly with those winter blue eyes of his.

“I’m too easy to read,” Kain said.

“When you’re with me,” Frank said. “I’ve seen you hide things much better when you’re doing an interrogation.”

Kain pulled his older lover down to rest his head at his lap. “So what is it about the 24th that is bothering you so much?”

Frank sighed and rolled onto his back so that he was looking up at Kain. “It’s a holiday on Earth. Well, the 25th is, but part of it is the 24th as well.”

Kain ran his hand through Frank’s black hair, noting that while there was no gray to be seen, it wasn’t overly thick. “So, tell me about it.”

“It’s a little hard to explain to an atheist with no experience with the holiday,” Frank said. “And even if I can put it in simple terms, it’s going to sound ridiculous.”

“Give it a try,” Kain said.

Frank sighed. “Fine, but it’s going to sound bloody well stupid.” He looked up at Kain, but as he spoke, his eyes really weren’t looking at the younger man; instead, they seemed to be recalling celebrating this holiday from his youth.

“First of all, it is a religious holiday. It’s based around Christianity, which is pretty much the dominating religion in England, even if it has its different branches and traditions. This holiday, though, is pretty standard for all of them.”

“I thought you weren’t much of a religious man,” Kain said.

“I’m not,” Frank answered. “But for me, this holiday was about getting to see my grandparents, who lived several hours away from my home with my mum. It was also a day when my mum would be home, making preparations, doing everything she could to make the day special.”

“It was about family.”

“Mm-hmm.” Frank reached at arm up and lightly brushed over Kain’s cheek. “But it all started with the Christmas story, the religious beginnings of it all. You see, the God of Christianity was believed to have had a son who was born to a human woman. A virgin human woman, no less.”

“How would she be a virgin if—”

“It was one of those things you just didn’t question.” Frank started playing with the buttons on Kain’s shirt, pulling at them, running a finger around them. “There are a lot of those in religion. But anyway, we celebrated his birth on December 25, though it would likely have been during times of better weather.”

Kain nodded, though he didn’t entirely understand.

“Anyway, to celebrate his birth, a lot of traditions have gradually built up around the holiday. Like giving gifts to your loved ones on the 25th.”

“Like a birthday,” Kain said. At least that made sense.

“Yes. But as other saints in the religion turned up, and traditions changed and were added, it gets more complex.”

Kain continued to comb his fingers through Frank’s hair. “So try to explain it to me.”

“Well, Father Christmas, who is based off of a saint who died years ago, supposedly comes into people’s houses through their chimneys late at night on the 24th, bringing presents to girls and boys.”

“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” Kain asked.

“He doesn’t steal anything,” Frank said, an amused grin on his face.

“Still breaking and entering. I didn’t say anything about burglary.” Kain shook his head. “I’d be scared if someone came into my house through the chimney. At least as a kid.”

“He doesn’t really,” Frank said with a chuckle. “And he’s not exactly intimidating, wearing a long red robe and holly sprigs in his hair.”

Kain tried to imagine it, and the only pictures he could come up with were disturbing on a different level all together.

“But kids hang stockings over the fireplace, which Father Christmas fills with gifts. Or he puts them under the Christmas tree.”

“You have a tree specifically for this holiday? Where’s it at?” Kain asked.

“It’s a small tree, one you put in your house. Not outside.”

“Oh,” Kain said.

“I’m just confusing you,” Frank said, starting to sit up.

Kain held him down. “No, you’re not, well, not completely. Tell me more about it.”

Frank resigned himself to Kain’s lap, not that he was really fighting all that much. “Well, the tree, you decorate it with lights or candles.”

“Open flames and a tree?”

“You’re very careful about it,” Frank said. “Mum and I would make garland by stringing popcorn together and making paper chains to wrap around the tree.”

“Wait a minute,” Kain said, big brown eyes looking down at Frank. “Open flames, a tree, and paper?”

“Did I mention very, very careful?” Frank said with a grin. “We’d also decorate it with little cookies to hang on the limbs or candies. Things that as a boy I could eat later.” Kain smiled down at the older man, seeing some of the hardened lines fading from his face as he talked about obviously fond memories of this holiday. “Oh, and Christmas crackers. I loved those. They were these rolled tubes of paper and cardboard with little strips of paper that had a chemical on them to make a cracking sound. Inside was a corny little paper crown that naturally, you’re supposed to wear, regardless of age. There would also be a joke, even a little treat or small gift of some kind.”

“I guess you liked the crackers?”

Frank nodded. “Mum could never buy more than one of them for me, but… well, it was appreciated.”

Kain rubbed a hand over Frank’s face. “It sounds like it.”

“And we’d put decorations up, red and green. Usually just paper or painted nuts or cookies. Nothing expensive.”

Kain nodded; naturally, it wouldn’t have been expensive, knowing that Frank’s mother had raised him alone on a very small salary. “It sounds very nice.”

“It was,” Frank said, and Kain couldn’t help but notice that despite the very happy smile on his lover’s face, there was a rim of tears at his eyes.

********

Frank took out his key to unlock the door to their apartment. It was late. Nearly midnight.

He swore he could smell something baking inside, not that it was surprising. Kain was a good cook and a fairly decent baker.

He opened the door and was surprised by pieces of randomly cut red and green paper that were hooked to every wall. It actually took some straining to see if there was wallpaper beneath the red and green.

“Kain?” Frank said, stepping through the kitchen, definitely smelling cookies. However, it took all the stoicism the older man had to refrain from laughing when he got to the living room. The decorations continued from there, where a small Ficus, still in its pot, was decorated with a string of large white lightbulbs that dragged down the little tree’s poor branches. Cookies that had been hung up while they were obviously still warm had fallen to the floor, unable to hold their weight at a warm stage, and a half-made popcorn garland was strung to the tree, along with a white paper chain.

On their fireplace was a pair of sheer black women’s stockings filled with gifts, none wrapped, all plain to see: a tie, a jeweler’s box likely holding a watch, two things that fairly resembled crackers, and a picture of Frank and Kain in a small frame that had poked through the silk of the stockings.

Standing next to it all was Kain, dressed in a long red bathrobe, with pieces of holly in his hair at odd angles, a few sticking out from his glasses.

“I got it wrong, didn’t I?” Kain said. “When the cookies started falling off the tree and the popcorn was just too hard to tie together, I knew I got it wrong.”

“You use a thread and needle to hook the popcorn together,” Frank said, still wanting to laugh, but tears coming to his eyes despite it all.

“I’m sorry. I’ve probably ruined all of your good memories with this disaster.” Kain hung his head.

Frank just walked swiftly across the room and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. “You’ve made an entirely new set of good memories,” Frank said. “You got a lot of it wrong, but the most important part, you got right. It’s about family.” He kissed the younger man. “And doing something that means something for them.” He kissed him again. “You’ve done that.”

He looked over his shoulder at the stockings. “The crackers look about right. How did you manage them?”

“Ed made them for me, though they might be overdoing things a little. He looked a little too excited to make them.”

“We’ll open them outside.” Frank looked back at Kain. “Very, very carefully.”

Kain nodded as their little wall clock struck midnight. “Happy Christmas, Frank.”

“Happy Christmas, Kain.”