A/N: This is meant to take place in my Lester/Becker 'verse a few weeks after "Need a Second to Breathe", thus before the Jurassic Park fic. It is perhaps a little bit early for Christmas fic, but I've had it finished for ages! This is fairly fluffy, but it is Christmas fic, after all. :) The title is from Melissa Etheridge's "Breathe".
Home Is a Feeling I Buried in You
"Do you want to have Christmas dinner with my family?"
James paused for a moment, carefully considering whether he had actually heard what he thought he had, and then looked at Becker. "I'm sorry?"
Becker was honest-to-God blushing. "It's all right if you don't, I know you usually spend Christmas with your kids, but my mum asked if I was going to bring you and I thought maybe it might be nice but obviously I don't want- Mmf!"
James took his time kissing Becker until he could be sure that the man had fully relaxed. He pulled back only slightly, so that his lips still brushed lightly against Becker when he spoke. "Are you quite finished?"
"Yes," Becker said, sounding dazed.
"Good. Now then," James said and faced Becker fully. "I accept your pitiful attempt at an invitation. I can see my children in the morning and have dinner with your family in the afternoon, thereby avoiding Agatha's parents. It's a wonderful solution, if you ask me."
"You really want to?"
"Of course I do, darling."
Becker pressed another kiss, feather-light, to James' mouth. "My mum's insane, you know. I'm warning you so you can try and be prepared."
"I've spoken to your mum. She's lovely."
"Just wait," Becker said darkly. "You won't be five minutes through the door and she'll be making inappropriate inquiries into our sex life and asking why you haven't put a ring on my finger yet."
Because you didn't want me to, remember? He brushed that thought aside and said, smiling, "Don't worry, Hils. I'm wonderful with mothers."
"Yes, I thought you might be. That's what I'm worried about."
Becker had an anxious crease in his forehead that James just had to kiss. Then he had to kiss Becker's pouting mouth and once he'd started, he thought, why stop?
"You're trying to distract me with your mouth," Becker said, a little bit put out but mostly agreeable, as he let James push him down against the couch cushions.
"Is it working?" James asked as he kissed Becker's throat.
"Not sure, you'd better keep doing it." Becker hooked his leg over James' hips and dragged him closer. "Yes, there," Becker said with a gasp and James decided that yes, Becker was well distracted.
As Christmas Day approached, James couldn't help but think that it was going to be a day to remember. Whether that would be a good thing or not was still up in the air. It was going to be their first real Christmas together and James was going to be brought home to meet the family, which was an ordeal he hadn't experienced since he'd begun dating Agatha all those years ago. It was a terrifying thought, even if James had been wanting just that.
Not that last Christmas hadn't been memorable in its own way, though. On James' last day at the ARC before he took off for the holiday, Becker had dragged him into the armoury, made a filthy joke about guns, and proceeded to give James a truly spectacular blow job (it had easily been the best gift James received that year). James remembered that he had entertained a vivid fantasy about pushing Becker up against one of the shelves, bending him over, and fucking that amazing arse. Becker had brought himself off, still on his knees, watching James' face with a quiet intensity until James had had to look away, a flush in his cheeks that wasn't entirely from the sex.
Fuck, they had both been so stupid. They'd thought they'd been fooling everyone when they'd fooled no one but themselves.
Sometimes James was sorry about how much time they had wasted, going in circles around each other. He wasn't getting any younger, after all, and if working at the ARC had taught him anything it was that he should never take anything for granted. But regretting what had passed solved nothing; it just wasted more time. They were who they were and they had done what they'd done, and James thought he was satisfied with where they stood now.
It had been a long time since he could say that and mean it.
James and Becker spent Christmas Eve together, appreciating the opportunity to have some time to themselves, away from work and before involving their families. James had made sure that Becker was given the day off from work and though Becker seemed vaguely guilty about it, he didn't object. It was only fair, James thought. He knew for a fact that Becker had worked the Christmas shift last year to make sure that all the men with families could have the time off.
He and Becker had put up a small tree in the corner and so, after dinner, they switched off the large lights and sat in the glow of the lights from the Christmas tree, drinking wine. James had forgotten how much he used to like Christmas- it was the sort of holiday that was always better if you had someone to share it with. Although he did love seeing his children open their gifts, it just hadn't been the same since he and Agatha divorced.
"I think Sid and Nancy are going to miss David's gift," Becker said.
James glanced over at the pile of blankets in the corner of the room, where Sid and Nancy were lying sprawled over the mutt James had adopted from a shelter last week. The children had wanted a pet for years and David only got more insistent as he got older. There were only so many times James could face disappointing him. So after discussing it with Agatha, James had got a dog. Not a puppy, so it would be easier on Agatha, and the fact that it was from a shelter would doubtless please Julia.
When James had first brought the dog home, the diictodons had sniffed warily at him, darting back whenever he moved, but they had quickly accepted him as one of their own. The dog was a peaceable sort and didn't object to the little creatures following him around and laying on him.
"I imagine you're right," James agreed. "We'll have to take extra care to make sure we don't leave anything lying around in the morning for them to destroy once they've realised he's gone."
"They'll probably just attack the furniture then."
"Yes, probably, but it's better than not making the effort."
"You're right, of course," Becker said obligingly, though James wasn't sure he appreciated Becker's tone. "Let's open presents now, sweetie. We've got to rush in the morning and it'll be late when we get home, and I don't want to have to wait until Boxing Day."
"I do wonder sometimes if you've ever really grown up, Hils," James said but it did seem silly to wait.
"I'll get them." Becker went over to the tree and picked up the two boxes, then returned to the couch. "I'm opening mine first, obviously." He tore the paper, revealing a plain, unmarked box. Becker opened it, stared inside, and then started to laugh. "Is this a hint, darling?"
"You are of course free to read into it however you wish."
"I'm surprised there's not a combat helmet as well."
"I'm saving that for your birthday."
"Oh, damn, now I've ruined the surprise." Becker rubbed the vest material between his fingers. "This is nice stuff, better than anything I've worn before. Meant to resist knives?"
"Unfortunately, no one is designing body armour that protects against dinosaur attacks." James had called in a favour to get his hands on this particular article, however, and it was certainly higher quality than anything they had in the ARC. If he was lucky, Becker might even deign to wear it sometime.
"Clearly someone should look into that." Becker put the box onto the floor and leaned over to give James a kiss. "Basically, you want me to take better care of myself, is that it?"
James wanted to downplay it, to insist it was more of a gag gift, but all he had to do was reach beneath the hem of Becker's shirt and feel the scars. Sometimes when he closed his eyes he could still see the way Becker had looked in the hospital, wan and pale and altogether too fragile. "Please do."
"Anything for you, love," Becker said against James' lips, completely seriously. Then he moved away and set the other box in James' lap. "Open yours now."
"Did you have someone wrap this for you? It looks quite nice," James said as he found the taped edges.
"Don't you think I could do it myself?" Becker asked, smiling at the expression on James' face. "Yes, all right. They wrapped it for me at the shop."
James did not laugh when he opened the box, but it was a near thing. He let the leather cuffs dangle from his forefinger. "Handcuffs, Becker, really?"
"You're an extremely difficult man to shop for, James."
"Well, I suppose this will save my ties, at least."
"You see? I'm always thinking about you. That's only part of your gift, though."
"And the other part?" James was fairly certain he knew where this was heading. He fancied himself an expert on Captain Hilary Becker.
Becker moved the box out of the way and swung a leg over James so that he was effectively sitting on James' lap. He nipped James' earlobe, murmuring, "You can use them on me tonight."
"Oh, can I? How generous of you."
Becker's mouth was hot against James' skin and he ground his hips down, making James gasp.
"Are you sure that won't hurt you?" James asked. He thought he deserved a medal for not throwing Becker down and ripping his clothes off right then.
"It'll be fine," Becker insisted. "I'm tired of all this completely vanilla sex; the least you can do is cuff me." He rolled his hips right against James' groin and yes, okay, he was convinced. Becker always gave the best gifts.
James' alarm went off frightfully early. It put him in mind of all the years he and Agatha had been woken up on Christmas morning while it was still dark by the children, begging to open their presents. He reached a hand out to shut off the alarm and then burrowed back into the blankets.
Becker rolled on top of him. "Get up, James. We have a busy day ahead of us."
"Shut up and get off me," James muttered. Damn, Becker was heavy. "I'm on holiday; I should be able to sleep."
"You can sleep tomorrow. All day, if you like," Becker said and coaxed James out of the bed. "Into the shower now."
James essentially sleepwalked through his morning routine, barely noticing when Becker left to make the coffee. He pulled on a linen jacket and then splashed water on his face, hoping that it might make him feel slightly more alive. Perhaps he and Becker shouldn't have been quite so adventurous last night.
No, James decided. That had been excellent.
He went into the kitchen to find Becker closing the lid of a travel mug. He handed it to James with a wide smile. "Your coffee, my sweet."
"Thanks," James said, holding it in one hand and looking Becker up and down. He was wearing a nice jumper over a collared shirt and a pair of black trousers that James couldn't help but notice hugged his arse attractively. "You look good."
"And you can never say that without sounding surprised," Becker teased. "I know my mother well enough by now to know she'd never even let me in the door if I showed up in jeans on Christmas." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually, I think I'm going to change, I'll only be a moment…"
James snagged the back of Becker's belt and held onto him. "I don't think so. Come on, grab the dog and I'll start on the bags. Let's pack the car."
Christmas morning at Agatha's was surprisingly uneventful, which James was certainly not going to complain about. The twins were on their best behaviour under Agatha's watchful eye and Julia even hugged Becker in greeting. David was thrilled by the dog and had already named him George, which James thought was rather a strange name for a dog, but it wasn't really his place to object.
The only rough patch was when it came time for James and Becker to leave. Although they had known James wasn't going to stay the whole day, the children were still clearly upset. It showed in the look of disappointment Julia couldn't hide and in the way Henry refused to meet James' eyes. Agatha hovered and tried to mediate and Becker was practically radiating guilt.
But the worst was David. "Are you sure you have to leave? You always stay for Christmas dinner," he said, his eyes huge and sad, hugging his arms to his chest. George was sitting at his side, staring reproachfully at James.
James floundered for a response, feeling like the worst sort of scum.
Becker knelt down. "It's my fault. You see, I made your dad promise he would have dinner with my family. Did you know that I have three sisters? They're utterly terrifying and my mum's worse, so I need your dad for the moral support."
David laughed and James felt the vice around his heart ease a little. "You fight dinosaurs for your job but you're scared of your sisters?"
"Absolutely. You would be, too, if you knew them."
"That's okay, then, if you need Daddy to help you."
"Thank you," Becker said, sounding hugely relieved, as if David was doing him a great favour. He gave David a hug and whispered something in his ear that made David laugh again.
James was just thinking that if he were the sort of person who carried a camera around, he would have taken a picture of them when Agatha, ever resourceful, did just that. Becker seemed surprised, eyes widening as he peered at her.
"I'm sorry I can't stay, David," James said, hugging David tightly. "I'll see you very soon, I promise."
"It's okay, Daddy. I don't mind so much if you're helping Hils."
He straightened up so he could hug Julia, watching Henry's blank expression from over her shoulder until he turned away sullenly.
"Don't worry, Dad," Julia said. "I mean, of course we'd love it if you stayed, but it's nice that you're spending time with Becker and his family."
James blinked at his daughter, surprised at how honest she sounded. "Thank you, Julia. I'm… I'm glad you feel that way."
She smiled at him. "Becker's like your family now, right? It's only fair that you spend Christmas with him, too."
"I… Um, right."
He watched Agatha kiss Becker's cheek and say, "Happy Christmas, Hilary. Have a good time at home."
"I'm not sure that's possible," Becker said with a small grimace.
"Don't be a baby," she said, squeezing Becker's arm and then coming over to James. She embraced him briefly. "I know it's not an ideal situation, James, and I do wish you could stay for the children, but… I understand. I'm glad things are working out with Hilary."
"Thank you," James said again and thought, not for the first time, how lucky he was to have an ex like Agatha.
It was about an hour's drive from Agatha's to where Becker had grown up in Hampshire. Becker was oddly quiet the whole way but James let him have his silence. He was probably fretting.
"That one," Becker finally pointed out, staring gloomily out of the car window.
James parked in the street and valiantly didn't laugh at Becker's attitude. They took the gifts out of the boot and made their way to the Beckers' front door, the house brick and old-looking, but large and well-kept.
At the end of the path, Becker paused and gave the door a pained expression. He looked at James. "It's not too late to change your mind. I won't blame you if you get right back in the car and leave."
"Stop being a coward, Hils. I am meeting your family and we're going to have a lovely time." James smoothed back Becker's hair where the wind had disordered it.
"Don't say I never tried to do anything for you," Becker said and faced the door. He rolled his shoulders back like he was preparing to face a particularly difficult task.
The door swung open before Becker had even raised his hand to knock. An attractive, dark-haired woman who must have been Becker's mother greeted them, smiling widely. "Hilary! And you must be James, of course. Come in, please!" She ushered them into the house, grabbing the bag of gifts from Becker's hand and shoving it at someone behind her. She then proceeded to ignore Becker completely, instead leaning in to kiss James on both cheeks, her gaze sweeping over him from head to toe. "Oh, you do look so much like how I pictured. I'm so glad to finally meet you in person."
"It's nice to meet you as well, Aida. It was kind of you to invite me."
She waved him off. "Believe me, if Hilary hadn't insisted on being so obstinate, I would have had you over ages ago."
"Mum, do get out of the way and let us see him, won't you?" One of Becker's sisters pushed her way through and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Lily." She was tall and thin with delicate features, and something about her face made James think that, as children, she and Becker could probably have passed for twins.
James kissed her knuckles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lily."
Lily opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by another sister, this one with the same dark hair and eyes but with a light smattering of freckles across her nose. Seeing Becker's sisters in person, James found it a small wonder that Becker was so protective of them. They were really quite the attractive family. "And I'm Rosalyn, but you can call me Rosie, everyone does."
From his position behind James' shoulder, Becker sighed loudly and muttered, "And I'll just leave, shall I? It isn't like anyone would notice the difference."
"Don't sulk, darling, it doesn't become you," Aida said.
James liked Becker's family already. He spotted Maria hanging back and smiled at her. "Hello, Maria."
The rest of the family turned almost in unison to look at Maria. She put her arms around James for a quick hug. "James, it's wonderful to see you again. How have you been?"
"Quite well, thank you. And yourself?"
"Busy, but good. I hope your children are well?"
"Wait a moment," Lily interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "You two know each other? You've already met?"
At a glance, James would never have guessed that Maria and Becker were related, but when he looked at her now, she had that same mischievous glint in her eyes that Becker so frequently had. "Of course! I must have forgotten to mention it."
"Hilary!" Lily and Aida both said accusingly, turning to Becker.
He backed up a step. "Oh, no, don't put this on me-"
"How could you have let Maria meet James and not me?"
"What about me? I'm your mother, Hilary, honestly."
Becker cast a desperate, pleading glance at James and James decided to take pity on him. "Let's not make something out of nothing. We met while Becker was in hospital, that's all. Aida, would you mind telling me where you'd like me to leave my coat?"
As a distraction, it worked superbly. "Yes, of course, how rude of me! Let me take it for you."
"No, it's no trouble. I can take it myself."
"Well, all right. You can put it in the master bedroom upstairs, Hilary can show you."
Becker grabbed James' elbow and rushed him off, practically pulling him upstairs, as though he couldn't get away fast enough. In the bedroom, he jerked his coat off and threw it on the bed. "I warned you, didn't I? They're mad, all of them. You're probably counting the seconds until you can leave, or maybe you're already trying to come up with an excuse to beg off early. Shit, I'd love to get called in for an anomaly right about now."
"Hils," James said, stroking his hands up and down Becker's arms soothingly. "You need to take a breath and calm down. They're your family- of course you think they're mad."
"But they really, really are. They're embarrassing."
"I think it's a requirement that your family embarrasses you, love. But I like them."
"No, you don't. You're just saying that so I won't feel guilty."
James let his nails dig into Becker's arms. "I rather think I know how I feel better than you do. Besides, even if I was lying, I think that after the way you've put up with all of Henry's antagonism, I can handle a few overenthusiastic but well-meaning women."
"You say that now, but they haven't had a chance to really start on you yet."
James tugged Becker's head down for a long kiss. Becker leaned into him and sighed, his hands fitting around James' hips.
"You're doing it again," Becker said, resting their foreheads together. "That thing where you try and distract me with snogging."
"Still working?"
"Very much," Becker said and let James distract him for a while longer, until he felt able to face his family again. "Okay, we can go now," he said, still looking like the situation was akin to being put in front of a firing squad.
James led the way back into the corridor. "And by the way," he said, glancing at Becker from over his shoulder. "I gave strict orders that you are not to be notified of any anomalies unless there is no other choice. The world would have to be ending again for anyone to be willing to risk my displeasure, you can be sure of that."
"Hmm," Becker said, coming over to join James outside the room. "Normally I'd be pleased at a rare perk of shagging the boss, but I'm not entirely sure I'm feeling very grateful at the moment."
"Is your bedroom down the hall?"
"Why, so you can see what sort of teenager I was? Sorry, sweetie, you're out of luck. Mum converted it into a guest room as soon as I moved out."
"Pity. I was hoping we could have a shag in your childhood bed."
Becker laughed and slid his arms around James' waist, squeezing his arse. "Kinky, sweetheart. I approve."
Someone coughed and James turned to see a man with curly blond hair and an apparent aversion to the regular use of razors. "Mark Shephard," he said, sticking out his hand. "I'm Lily's husband."
James shook his hand. "James Lester. I suppose you already know who I'm with."
Mark had a wide, cheerful smile. "I certainly hope it's Hilary or his hands had no right to be where I saw them. Frankly, though, Lily hasn't been able to shut up about you for days. Hils, I think you made a tactical error in hiding him for so long."
Becker embraced Mark briefly, slapping his back. "I've been thinking the same thing. They're acting madder than usual and that's saying something."
"I hope they haven't scared you off yet, James. They can be a bit overwhelming, but you get used to it."
"Oh, I think I'm well prepared to deal with madness of any kind," James said, thinking of what he did at work every day.
"Is it safe down there? What are they doing?" Becker asked.
"What do you think? They're into the champagne," Mark said, smirking.
Becker groaned. "Fantastic. With a bit of alcohol in my mother we can expect the embarrassing questions to start rolling in. I don't suppose you'd like to hide up here until dinner, James?"
"I don't think so," James said and pushed Becker towards the stairs with a hand at his back.
Aida was in the kitchen, bending over something in the oven, when James and Becker came in. She smiled at them. "James, can I get you a drink? We've got plenty of champagne, or you're welcome to anything in our drinks cabinet. Scotch? Gin?"
"Champagne would be lovely, Aida, thank you."
"Hilary- Where's he got to?"
"Getting something stronger," James said as Becker came back into view, a glass of what was likely whisky in his hand and the bottle tucked under his arm.
"Hilary, really, you'll embarrass yourself," Aida said, tutting.
"No, I think you manage to do that all on your own," Becker said, taking a large sip from his drink.
Aida handed James a glass of champagne. "He used to be so respectful, I don't know what happened. Clearly the military did nothing for him. Do you know, when he was a boy, every year on my birthday he would-"
"Oh, Mum, James really isn't interested in hearing about that."
"On the contrary, this sounds like exactly the kind of story I'd like to hear. Please continue, Aida."
But Becker seized James by the elbow and dragged him away, forcing James to make his apologies to Aida over his shoulder. "You shouldn't be rude to your mother, Hils," James as said as they went into the living room where the rest of the family was gathered.
Becker flushed slightly. "She's being so… I'm sorry if I've not been on my best behaviour, but…"
"I know you're nervous, love, but you don't have to be." James hesitated but then decided to go through with what he was thinking about saying because Becker probably needed to hear it. The holidays were stressful for everyone anyway and it couldn't have been easy for Becker, bringing James to meet his mother. "I don't know exactly what you're afraid of, but nothing about your family, nothing they might say about you is going to change my mind as to how I feel about you."
Becker's eyes had gone soft in the way that always made James feel a little bit like he was a teenager again. "Can I kiss you? Please? Do you mind?"
Although his innate love of privacy rebelled at the very thought of it, James said, "Oh, what the hell. Go on, then." It was for Becker, wasn't it? Becker liked contact, it made him relax.
So Becker kissed him, with only the slightest hint of tongue, just enough for James to taste the whisky on his breath. Yes, he was merely being a good boyfriend and helping Becker in his time of need.
"I was coming over to say hello, but you do seem rather preoccupied now, Hilary."
James turned to the side to see an older woman, small and thin and with Becker's eyes.
Becker lit up, engulfing her in a hug. "Gran, it's wonderful to see you. How are you?"
Becker's grandmother looked laughably tiny in Becker's arms. "Perfectly well, Hilary, thank you. Now move out of the way so I can meet your boyfriend."
Becker jerked away as though he'd been struck. "Not you, too. Isn't anyone glad to see me?"
"Don't be childish, dear. Surely you can't be surprised that after the way you've hidden away your boyfriend we all want to see him?" She offered her hand to James as though she expected a kiss rather than a handshake. "James, it's a pleasure to meet you. Call me Margaret."
James obliged her with a kiss. "The pleasure's mine, I'm sure, Margaret."
She smiled approvingly. "Aida did say you had lovely manners. Perhaps you'll be a good influence on Hilary; I'm afraid being around all those soldiers has had a detrimental effect on his behaviour."
"Gran, I-"
"It's all right, darling, we don't blame you. Not exactly."
Becker turned away with a huff, refilling his own drink, and James found himself laughing at the twinkling of Margaret's eyes.
"That's nice," Becker said, crossing his arms over his chest. "My grandmother and my partner are laughing at me."
Margaret ignored what Becker had said to latch upon his choice of words. "So you do consider yourselves partners, then? That seems terribly serious and yet you're only just letting your own family meet your… partner."
Becker paled. "Well, that's… That's between James and me, isn't it? I don't think it's any of your business how… how serious or not we may be. If you don't mind me saying so." He shifted his weight and took another gulp of whisky.
Margaret was watching them shrewdly and James drained his own drink. This was certainly awkward. He wondered if he should be worried that Becker was so afraid to admit to his own grandmother that they were in fact living together and James had essentially agreed to marry Becker if and whenever Becker decided he wanted to go through with it. He supposed not, because it was Becker, but Becker's issues admittedly were wearing. To think James used to be the one dragging his feet about their relationship.
And then Maria came over. "Pardon me, but I'd like to steal Gran, if I may? I'd like to ask your advice."
"Of course, dear. I'm getting the distinct impression that your brother wouldn't welcome anything I have to say," Margaret said.
Maria linked her arm with her grandmother's and they headed off, Maria giving them a quick grin and mouthing 'You owe me,' over her shoulder.
Brilliant, wonderful girl, James thought. "Is Margaret your-"
"My mum's mother. I don't see much of my father's family anymore. Never did, really. My father…" Becker paused and then shook his head. "Doesn't matter."
Becker's got daddy issues. And why wasn't he surprised?
"My uncle, my dad's older brother, teaches at Sandhurst; he taught one of my courses. That was awkward."
"I hope he passed you."
Becker looked affronted. "Obviously. I had top marks at Sandhurst."
"Yes, I know, sweetheart. I'm very proud of you," James said, and he was only halfway joking.
Becker grinned and pecked him on the nose. "You should be. Not everyone is lucky enough to have such an accomplished partner."
"Or such a modest one, either."
"Like I said, lucky."
Aida clapped her hands together. "All right, everyone, it's time for pictures!"
Becker glanced skyward. "Oh, bollocks. She does this every year, as if we really need new family portraits every Christmas."
"Agatha does as well. You know, I'm surprised she let us leave without making us take one. She must have been frazzled to let it slip her mind."
Aida apparently considered photographs very serious business. She had a fancy camera with a large lens, one that still used film. She mumbled a lot to herself about light and contrast and carefully arranged them for each picture- all of them together, just her children, Aida and her children, Aida and her mother, and then Lily wanted one with her husband. It was all rather tiring.
"Hey, James, this is the first time we've ever taken a photograph together, isn't it?" Becker asked.
James opened his mouth but Lily burst out with, "What? You don't have a single photograph of the two of you? What sort of couple are you?"
"The sort that doesn't care about pictures?"
Lily frowned, her eyes big and reproachful. "But I gave you that camera so that you would use it, Hils."
"No, Lils, you gave me that camera so that you could be nosy. You were hoping I'd take pictures of James and my friends and show them to you."
Mark chuckled and Lily elbowed him in the gut.
"This is a problem solved easily enough," Aida said brightly. "I'll take one of just Hilary and James."
Becker started shaking his head. "No, that's really not necessary."
"In twenty years you'll be glad to have it, Hilary, I can promise you that."
At his mother's casual use of the phrase 'in twenty years', Becker darted a somewhat frightened look over at James.
When James had first brought Becker to meet his own family, Agatha had commented on how sweet she thought Becker was. She had actually used the word 'adorable' and James had snorted disbelievingly. But watching him interact with his family, so supremely uncomfortable, James thought he could see what Agatha had meant. "Come now, Hilary, be a good boy and listen to your mother."
Aida beamed at him while Becker scowled and muttered something under his breath, no doubt petulant and unkind. Aida took so long setting up the picture, deciding where they would go and how they would pose and what the best angle was, that Becker finally snapped.
"It's only a damn photograph!" he shouted. "We'll stand here, you stand there, and take the bloody thing already!"
"Hilary James Becker, don't speak to me that way," Aida started to scold and Lily stifled laughter behind her hand.
James was tempted to follow suit, especially when Becker lowered his eyes and said meekly, "Sorry, Mum."
Seemingly mollified, Aida let them stay where they were while she snapped half a dozen pictures at least, until Becker started to fidget like a little boy. "Oh, go on, then, Hilary," Aida said at last. "I only wanted to make sure I got a decent shot, you know how you tend to pull such horrible faces in photos. It's such a shame; you're so handsome in person."
The girls all laughed and started to bring up their favourite memories of Becker's unfortunate picture-taking history. James wondered if he might be able to get hold of some of said photographs while Becker closed his eyes like he was praying for strength.
James squeezed his arm around Becker's waist and felt Becker press his weight heavily into James' side. He thought he noticed the flash of the camera going off in their direction again but ignored it. "Will you be all right for a moment if I run to the bathroom? Think you can manage without me?"
"It will be a terrible ordeal," Becker sighed, "but I suppose I'll have to be brave."
James rolled his eyes and left, thinking that he probably should have asked where the bathroom was first as it took him a short while to find it. Then again, it did give him the opportunity to look around at where Becker had spent his childhood. It really was a nice house, big enough to comfortably accommodate four children. It was strange, but he could almost picture the boy Becker must have been, running through the corridors.
After leaving the bathroom, he turned the corner and someone said, "James."
James started, holding a hand in front of his chest. "Christ, Hils, you scared the life out of me."
"Sorry," Becker said, stepping further into the corridor. He took James' hand and led him into an empty room that looked like some sort of study.
"What were you doing? Are you hiding?"
"What? No. …Okay, yes. But they're like hyenas or something, they all ganged up on me as soon as you left, it was terrible." Becker's bottom lip was jutting out in that pout he liked to use to extort things he wanted from James and James found himself wondering whether Becker had perfected it during a childhood spent with women.
James stroked Becker's cheek. "Oh, poor baby, how awful for you. Would you like to sit on my knee and tell me all about it?"
"I love it when you're condescending, darling."
"Clearly you must to have stayed with me so long."
"Well, there is the fact that I'm rather fond of your cock," Becker said, expression carefully bland. "Makes it much easier to ignore all your shortcomings."
"You say the nicest things."
"Don't I, though?" Becker said and pressed his cheek against the side of James' head, winding his arms around James' back. "Do you mind if we stay in here for a bit? I could use a breather."
"I suppose that would be all right." James kissed Becker's neck. "I really do like your family, you know."
"They certainly love you."
"Does that surprise you?"
"What? No, of course not, I…" Becker chuckled quietly. "I see. You're fishing for compliments, aren't you?"
"I won't deny that it's nice to hear one's virtues extolled from time to time."
"I'm sure. But really I'm… I think… Oh, bugger, I don't know what I'm even trying to say."
"That's okay," James said and they were just silent. He thought he had an idea of what Becker wanted to communicate because it was probably roughly the same thing James felt when Agatha spoke kindly about Becker, or when he saw Becker interacting with David.
A flash suddenly went off and James blinked.
"Maria! What the fuck?" Becker said.
Maria ducked her head and offered a shy smile, dimples just showing in her cheeks. "Hils, I'm sorry, but it's dreadful that you don't have any pictures! The two of you looked so sweet just then and I didn't think you'd notice. Here, look," she said and held out the camera.
Becker took it from her and the two of them stared down at the digital image of the picture Maria had just taken. How strange it was to see a moment captured like that, to look at it like he was looking at two people he didn't even know. He and Becker occupied each other's space like it was completely natural, bodies touching like it was nothing. Did he always look that besotted? He certainly hoped not.
"I'll send you the print," Maria said and neither James nor Becker cared to protest. She was halfway through the door before she said, "Wait a moment, I forgot. Mum said to tell you dinner's nearly ready."
"Want to go then?" Becker asked, and James nodded.
Aida and the girls were bustling around between the kitchen and the dining room. "Is there something I can do to help?" James offered.
"Absolutely not, you're our guest," Aida said and shoved a stack of plates into Becker's arms. "Hilary, however, please make yourself useful."
"Yes, Mum," Becker said and obediently did as he was told. Perhaps he wanted to make up for being an arse earlier, James considered.
Because he didn't like feeling useless, James helped Becker set the table. Aida shook her head at him when she noticed, but she was smiling a bit, too. They do love me, James thought, amused. And after all, why shouldn't they?
When everything was ready, they took their places around the large dining room table and if James had had any doubts as to where he was going to be sitting, they were soon dispersed when Becker practically shoved him down in the seat next to him.
Mark carved the turkey and they passed the serving bowls around the table. For a while they were all mostly preoccupied with the business of eating, everyone complimenting the food and Aida smiling graciously.
Becker said, "Rosie, weren't you seeing someone? Did you decide not to bring him?"
Rosalyn took a moment to think it over. "Who, you mean Jack? No, I dumped him ages ago. Turns out I wasn't his only girlfriend."
"What? Why didn't you tell me? I would have-"
"You would have freaked out. I'm a big girl, Hils, I don't need you to look after me anymore. Besides, he wasn't that great anyway."
"I still wish you'd tell me these things," Becker grumbled. "I think it's only fair for me to know when my sisters are dating arseholes."
James bit down on the smile that threatened to overwhelm his face. Seeing Becker play the part of the protective big brother was both hilarious and endearing.
"It's a pretty safe assumption that all of Rosie's boyfriends are arseholes," Lily said with a grin and Rosalyn gave a little nod of agreement.
"Enough about Rosie, I want to talk to James," Aida said. "Why don't you tell us about how you went from being Hilary's boss to his boyfriend?"
"Mum, please. Leave him alone already," Becker said, but wearily, like he had no expectation of anything he said making a difference.
"Be quiet, Hilary. You can't expect to be able to keep the story a secret."
"Yes, and can you tell us the real version, please? I have a feeling I got short-changed on it," Maria said.
"What?" Lily exclaimed. "You already know? So not only did you get to meet James but they told you how they started seeing each other? Hilary!"
James cut in, hoping to put them all off this particular topic of conversation. "We'd be happy to tell you, of course, but it's not exactly suitable dinner conversation."
"Oh, please," Margaret said. "We're all adults here. And if you mean that you had a lot of sex, well, we'd all worked that much out for ourselves."
"Oh my God," Becker said, covering his eyes with his hand as though he could somehow make his family disappear as long as he couldn't see them. "It's even worse than I imagined. How can that be possible?"
James saw the way Aida was smirking and felt a smile tugging at his mouth. He rubbed soothingly at Becker's neck and whispered into his ear, "You make yourself such an easy target, sweetheart."
"And you," Becker said, turning his head and leveling a venomous glare at James. "You're nearly as bad as them! You're enjoying my misery, aren't you? You're a terrible boyfriend."
"I'm a wonderful boyfriend, far better than you deserve," James insisted and then kissed Becker on the mouth, surprising even himself.
Becker was gawking at him, his mouth in a perfect 'oh' of shock, but then his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. He gave James another chaste kiss and whispered against his lips, "Okay, you win. You're wonderful."
Everyone was staring at them and James felt a flush rise in the back of his neck. He didn't know what had come over him, kissing Becker like that in front of everyone. He had only thought that Becker looked like he needed a kiss and so he'd just… done it.
Becker grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed it, a simple gesture that made him relax again. He thought that maybe he could do this, this normal couple thing they were trying. Never let it be said that James Lester shied from a challenge. "All right," James said. Normal couples told the story of how they met, didn't they? "We'll give you the abridged version."
"I certainly hope it's the censored version as well," Rosalyn put in. "I for one have absolutely no desire to know what sort of sordid things my brother gets up to."
"God, yes," Lily said. "It was bad enough when he used to shag my friends and they always wanted to gush about him."
Becker made a rude hand gesture and Lily blew him a kiss. Aida scolded them but the way she was laughing undermined her authority quite a bit.
"We had a terribly romantic beginning, didn't we, darling?" James said, because if they were going to tell this story, they were going to do it in their own way. "Refresh my memory. What was it you said to me in my office that night?"
Becker grinned at him, catching on right away. "I believe I told you to fuck yourself, honey."
Aida looked horrified, her mouth open like she wanted to say something but words failed her. Mark snorted laughter and was swiftly joined by Becker's sisters.
James glanced around the table at Becker's completely insane, completely wonderful family, his fingers tangled with Becker's beneath the table, and felt sort of soppy, like he was in a made-for-television holiday movie (albeit one that wouldn't be entirely family-friendly). But that was surprisingly okay, because it occurred to him that he was actually happy. Christmas was meant to be spent with the people you love and James, sliding Becker's hand over to rest on his knee, was doing exactly that.
End
And for the curious, in my head, Mark looks something like Simon Baker.