Spark
"I'm sorry I have to eat and run, Dad," Kyle said to his father across the table. Horatio had hardly touched the dessert he had set for himself. "It's just that Will is-"
"-I know," the older man reassured, a faint smile trying to hide his mournful features. "Will and you were overseas together and you want to spend Christmas with him. I can respect that".
Kyle knew that Horatio was a wonderful father-figure, but he was still learning what it was like to have him as a dad. The idea of having a family he could come home to still felt out of place for him. He wanted it, but he was trying to find out what it was like to be a son rather than the burden his foster parents always said he was.
He chewed on his lip for a second before piping up and giving a small smile. "I got you a present".
Horatio smiled back before quickly ducking his head away. "You didn't have to do that, Kyle".
"I wanted to." God, he looks so depressed.
Once Kyle had left to grab the present, Horatio sighed deeply and quietly to himself. He wasn't sure what he expected that night to be. It was obvious that he wasn't about to make up for nearly twenty years of absence in one night. Even though it was Christmas Eve, he was no miracle worker. Though it wasn't fair, he always wanted a family.
"It's a little weird," his son admitted as he walked in, a book-shaped package in his hand. "But I saw you taking care of a little girl in the crime labs once and… well… it gave me the spark of an idea. I hope you like it".
Gently, Horatio's large and pale hands glided over the paper and ribbon, pulling them off and setting them in a small pile on the table. It took a few seconds for him to register what he was looking at.
"You didn't have to do all this," Horatio whispered, swallowing the knot in his throat.
"I wanted to".
A baby book, bound with a powder blue and cream colored stripes. In the middle of the cover was a photograph, the kind with an orangish saturation that could only come from a 1980's camera. The several month old Kyle looked up with big blue eyes and a toothless smile. He must have been born with hair, he already had bangs growing in. The upturned button nose reminded Horatio of his own, much more pronounced as a child.
"The couple who raised me first disappeared when I was seven," Kyle explained, looking at the book he assembled over Horatio's shoulder. "I made friends with the neighbor family who helped me get a safety deposit box when I was between foster homes. They told me that I should but the old photos in there… it's like they knew tha- are you going to cry, Dad?"
Horatio chewed on his lip and his hands shook slightly, almost afraid to open it. Before he could think any longer about the life he had missed, he pulled Kyle into a hug, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Thank you".
"It's no problem," he comforted. "I should get going though. Are you going to be alright?"
The redhead nodded and stood up to walk Kyle to the door. "Merry Christmas, son".
"Merry Christmas, Dad".
Kyle herd the door softly click shut once he reached the bottom of the stairs leading down from the porch. He wouldn't have been able to guess it when he first met him, but Horatio was a very sensitive and sentimental man. Perhaps it would be better if he didn't leave him alone on Christmas.
No, Kyle thought, pulling the car keys out of his pocket. He probably wants some time alone.
As he reached the end of the narrow path leading from the house to the sidewalk, a silver car pulled up in front of the house. An older man, but younger than Horatio, stepped out of the car, his body tall and lean. He wore a red, pink, and white striped shirt, reminding Kyle of a candy cane. On top of that was a green and red checkered tie. And even though it was dark out and he was out in the street, Kyle could see the little mole he had under his right eye. He gave Kyle a polite little nod and smile before walking around to the back seat of his car, loaded with presents.
Kyle approached him. "Do you need help with those, sir?"
"No," he responded, grabbing what he needed and closing up his car. "I just need two of them for here". Pausing, he smiled at Kyle. "You're Horatio Caine's son, aren't you?"
"I am".
He handed the young man a cubic foot large box before opening up his car again.
"Is this for Horatio?"
"No, that's for you." He grabbed an identical box and closed up the car again. "I'm sorry, I should probably introduce myself. Rick Stetler – MD-PD".
Kyle smiled. "So you work with Dad? Are you a CSI? Because, don't tell him, but I'm thinking about joining the force".
"It takes a lot out of you," Rick quickly answered. "Is he home?"
"Yeah, want me to help you with th-"
"-No. Thank you". Rick gave a little smile. "I got it. Merry Christmas".
"Merry Christmas, sir".
Kyle unlocked his own car, got in, and drove off.
oOoOo
Horatio had just wadded the wrapping paper and tossed it in the garbage. The baby book remained unopened as he cleared the table and started on the dishes. When the doorbell rang, he quickly looked around, wondering what Kyle had forgotten. Barefoot, he padded into the living room, wiping his wet hands on his pants. He opened the door.
"Rick?"
A nervous smile crossed the younger man's lips. "Hi, Horatio".
The redheaded lieutenant glared at Stetler though the storm door that separated them. "What are you doing here?"
"I," Rick stammered, blushing, "I have a few presents for you".
Looking down, Horatio saw two burgundy colored boxes, both tied with deep blue silk ribbons. He sighed as he looked up at Rick again. The younger man looked so eager that declining the presents just wasn't an option. And it would be far too rude to just leave him on the doorstep and take the presents in. Hesitating, he pushed open the storm door. "Come on in".
Giving him a little smile, Rick stepped into the house. It was bright, even when it was dark outside. The walls, carpet and furniture were all white. Biting his lip, he looked over the older man. He looked gorgeous in white, but he looks even better surrounded by it.
He probably looks better laid out on the sheets and-
"-Take off your shoes, Rick".
Nodding, he toed off his shoes and stepped onto the plush carpet. Unintentionally, he swept his eyes up Horatio's body, blushing once their eyes met. Horatio cocked an eyebrow at him before closing the door and walking towards the kitchen.
"Do you want some pecan pie?"
Rick smiled. "Sure. If you don't mind".
"Not at all," Horatio lied, disappearing to reluctantly cut a piece and set it on a china plate.
His palms beginning to sweat, Stetler dragged his feet to the couch and sat down. The two packages went on the cushion next to him. Wiping his hands on his slacks and trying to calm down, he looked around the living room. Glass bookshelves lined a windowless wall, displaying a few familiar textbooks and novels. The rest blurred in colorful vertical lines. Next to the television was a shorter bookcase with uniform rows. He always had been curious as to what Horatio did in his free time.
Standing, he wandered over and knelt down in front of the DVD collection. There were quite a few crime dramas, some sci-fi, a couple westerns, a row of comedy. Odd. He never really heard Horatio laugh before, but he was positive it was warm and robust.
Three unlabeled tin boxes caught his attention. He reached for them.
Bzzxt.
A visible spark danced between Rick's finger and a silver box. He startled, jumping back and losing balance, falling onto the floor. He looked up just as Horatio walked back into the living room.
Rick cleared his throat as he turned and sat up. "I was just looking at your collection".
"Sure". He set the pie down on the coffee table.
Horatio crossed his arms and watched Rick scramble to his feet. The brunette half-stumbled over before he stopped about a foot in front of Horatio. Taking a few steps back, Horatio cocked his eyebrow at Rick again.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I was just trying to see what DVDs you had".
Sighing to himself, Horatio watched Rick take a small bite of the pie. His hospitality could only go so far with Stetler before he needed to put his foot down. Stetler wasn't the sort of person who would just drop on by.
A small clink came from the table as Rick set the plate down. Horatio looked over just as he was handed a large present, the "TO: Horatio" tag being quite visible. The stunning smile Rick had flashed him went unnoticed as Horatio sat down on the couch, setting the package on the coffee table. He wasn't sure what impulsed him to look over at Rick for that moment, but the pathetically hopeful grin he was met with made him wish he hadn't. Without another look in Rick's direction, he pulled the ribbon and tore the paper.
"I made them from scratch".
The images of cookies were visible through layers of green and red cellophane that segregated them into neat little bundles. He had to say that he was impressed. The past several years had cookie presents like this come few and far between. Not only was the dedication clear, but he separated the cookies so their smells don't run together and end up tasting the same.
"Thank you".
Horatio replaced the lid on the box, trying not to look too pleased with the gift. What was puzzling him was why Stetler would not only set aside time to bake, but to hand-deliver his work.
"You didn't need to do this, Rick," the redhead assured him.
"I wanted to".
Horatio took a deep breath. What had happened with Kyle hadn't put him in the mood for dealing with Rick. "We haven't really talked all year, aside from yelling at each other".
"Peace offering".
The look on the younger man's face was so innocent and apologetic that he made it damn near impossible for Horatio to turn him away. In fact, a trace of a smile slid across the redhead's lips. He didn't at all mind seeing this side of Rick. Perhaps they could have been friends if they didn't start off on the wrong foot.
Looking down, Horatio noticed that Rick had slid the other present into his hands.
"You get this also".
It was rectangular and very thin. Compared to the previous gift, it weighed next to nothing. Impulsively, he cast Rick a curious glance before pulling off the wrapping paper and ribbon. What he saw left him speechless.
It was a portrait of himself, done in charcoal and simply, yet beautifully, framed. The expression his image's face had was a cross between hurt and desire. There was definitely something in the eyes of the drawing that he rarely saw in his own, a sort of displayed inner fire. The corners of his mouth were turned up just slightly, just enough to show off the laugh lines that creased his face. His neck was just slightly elongated, he was positive, it make him look for more elegant than he had ever seen himself. The image ended with the collar of his shirt, unbuttoned one more than he usually let it. In the background were uneven grey smudges, but they almost looked like they lightened around his head, like a halo.
"Where did you get this?"
"I made it".
A hand on Horatio's thigh. He jumped to his feet and dropped the picture on the sofa.
Rick tried and failed to look innocent again. "What?"
"No," he said firmly, looking Rick square in the eyes. "I don't know what you're trying to do. But no".
"No?"
"It means I'm not interested, Rick".
The younger man stood. "Horatio Caine," he said just as firmly. "Just because I come over here and give you a few Christmas presents doesn't mean that I'm interested in you".
"The drawing!" Horatio snapped, beginning to pace.
"We've known each other for years. Is it really that weird?"
"You put your hand on my leg!"
Stetler rolled his eyes. "Are you really so homophobic that whenever a man touches you it's interpreted as something sexual?"
The comment bit at Horatio enough to make a heavy flush sweep up his neck and cross his cheeks. "I am not a homophobe".
"Then are you so insecure with your sexuality that if a man touc-"
"-I am perfectly secure with my sexuality," Horatio growled, the blush darkening. He quickly turned away from Rick and began pacing. "It's just that you're not behaving rationally. We just don't have the sort of relationship where you just drop in on me. In fact, we don't have a relationship; we have a mutual tolerance. And as to that, I can only be pushed so far".
He turned to glance back at Rick. Stetler looked like someone had slapped him across the face. Something in his eyes made Horatio unsure if he was going to burst into tears or rip him apart. Either way, he took a step backwards.
Rick took a step forwards. "You can only be pushed so far," he echoed.
Horatio wasn't sure to respond to this, but he quickly looked around him for what would be best to arm himself with.
"You can only be pushed so far?"
Was he going to hit him or cry?
"YOU can only be pushed so far?"
What was worse? Horatio spied a candlestick he had to dig out of storage when he lost power last week. If only he could get to it.
"You wanna see pushing it too far?"
Run for it. No. Get the knife from the table. No, too messy. When'd he get so close?
"I'll show you pushing it too far!"
Rick was only a few inches away from Horatio now. There would be no reason for him to cry like this… or hit him. What the hell's he doing? Oh God, please don't stab me. Say something!
Horatio looked up into Rick's chocolate eyes and swallowed hard, opening and closing his mouth a few times before words started coming out. "Rick, calm down. If you want to talk, we can talk. I've just been on edge all day and you caught me off guar-"
Rick crashed their lips together.
Bzzxt.
Both men jumped about three feet back. Rick stared at Horatio, horrified that what could have been a very pleasant moment had been ruined. The redhead's fingertips were at his lips, feeling where he had been lightly burned. Was it his imagination or did he actually see a white-blue flash when they kissed.
Wait. Kissed? "Rick? What just happened?"
"You're right, Horatio. I should go".
"No".
The brunette looked over at him, hopeful. Horatio blinked at that. Yelina was right, Rick did leer. An uneasiness swept through him, followed by a trace of intrigue. Wait, what? No. Damnit, what's wrong with me?
"You kissed me".
An attempt at an innocent look crossed Rick's face. "Do… do you want me to kiss you again?"
"No". Horatio took a deep breath. Well… maybe? It was the sort of kiss that he was positive only existed in the movies. The attempt alone was enough to tell Horatio that Rick was a hopeless romantic, and probably one hell of a kisser. Part of him was sure that if it weren't for the static shock, they would still be kissing. "I thought you said that you weren't interested in me".
"I didn't say that," Rick stammered, his cheeks turning pink. "I just said that what I did earlier didn't mean that I was".
"Don't argue schematics with me," Horatio snapped, surprised at how fast his heart was beating. "Are you or are you not interested?"
"Horatio".
"Just answer the goddamn question!" Shit. Why am I so nervous?
"Yes! I'm interested in you!"
"Good!" Wait. What? Say something else! "Now we can at least have a dialogue about this".
The blush that covered Rick's cheeks was impressively dark. He looked like he could curl up into a little ball and completely disappear. Taking tentative steps, he inched towards the door.
"I would really rather not," Rick stammered.
"What if I make it worth your while?"
The blush spread to Rick's ears as Horatio did everything he could to keep his hands from visibly flying to his mouth.
The redhead cleared his throat. "I mean, just talk to me. I won't force you to do it and I won't torture you with it".
Rick nodded slowly before easing down into a recliner he was nearly stumbling into as it was. "What do you want to know?"
Sitting down on the couch, Horatio set the drawing and the cookies aside. "First, how long have you been feeling this for me?"
"Approximately, since the summer of 2005".
Closing his eyes, Horatio tried to remember what happened that summer. He couldn't. "Why then?"
Large and almost childlike deep brown eyes wandered around the room for a lingering moment before meeting Horatio's gaze again. "I decided to take some time off in New York. Dropped in on a few college friends working NYPD. I couldn't say 'Miami' without you coming up". He shrugged, the blush that once began to fade starting to return. "I learned a lot about you that summer".
"Like… like what?"
Rick gave a little smile. "Lots of stories, most of them just saying how selfless you are. I got a little curious, looked into you old files". He winced slightly at that. "I'm sorry. I wasn't accusing you of anything, I was just curious".
"Find what you were looking for?"
"I don't know what I was looking for, but I did find something". He took a deep breath, if he wasn't in IA, this conversation would be a lot more forgiving. "In the late 80's, when your records start, things are a little… sketchy. Like it was dancing around an issue it never mentioned".
Biting at his lip, Horatio nodded. He wished he knew Rick well enough to risk telling him the truth.
"I know that you killed your father for taking your mother's life".
A knot immediately tied itself in Horatio's throat. If there was any time of the year he tried not to think about his late mother, it was Christmas. Even his father, Aidin, seemed to calm down for the holidays. On the last Christmas that his mother and Aidin were alive, it almost looked like things could get better.
He decided to change the subject.
"What did you really come over here for, Rick?"
"A whim, really," Rick smiled, his eyes getting large and innocent again. "A Christmas present for myself – to see you".
"No, really".
"Yes," he turned defensive, sitting up a little. "I wanted to get your present to you and see you". His confidence deflated as quickly as it came on. "But… the portrait was a little much, in retrospect. Too much".
"It's bold," Horatio noted, looking over at it again. "But it's beautiful. And I like it".
"Really?" The blush returned.
The redhead nodded, smiling at it before turning back to Rick. "I didn't know that you were an artist".
"It's just a hobby," Rick shrugged before a little smile spread across his lips. "There's a lot you don't know about me".
"I suppose".
Stetler sat up a little straighter, successfully making his shoulders look slightly wider. "Perhaps we should better get to know one another".
Horatio wasn't sure to be flattered or insulted. Impulsively, he ducked his head and blushed. "Erm… Rick?" He quickly stood up and gave his guest a gentle smile. "I'd feel terrible holding you here. You must have family you're going over to or going home to".
"No".
"No?"
"Just me this year".
The redhead felt that knot in his throat again. He'd feel terrible throwing Rick out. Maybe they were going to actually make a connection. Perhaps everything would be better this way. But they couldn't just keep talking like this, it would be too much… and it risked them fighting, like they always did.
"Rick, I…" What the hell am I doing? "I was just about to sit down and watch 'It's a Wonderful Life' and 'Grinch' before turning in. If…" What if he says no? I'll look like an idiot. "If you want to watch with me and stay the night, I have a spare guest room that's all set up. Just… you shouldn't be alone on Christmas".
Rick's heart fluttered around in his chest and almost up his throat and out his mouth. This was too good to be true. "Which 'Grinch'?"
"The good one".
"I'd love to spend Christmas with you".
oOoOo
"He brought everything back, all the food for the feast. And he, he himself, the Grinch - carved the roast beast".
Rick looked down, seeing that Horatio had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Smiling, he reached up a hand and gently touched the side of the older man's face. It had been many years since anyone had ever been so peaceful with him.
He checked the clock. It was technically Christmas morning. He wasn't sure if he should wake Horatio up or just let him sleep on the couch. With everything he had been though, Rick doubted that Horatio had many calm nights. Awakening him wasn't an option.
Sleeping on the couch seemed alright, but every time he did it, he always wound up with a sore neck. Maybe Horatio could do it because he was shorter, but was it worth the risk? Maybe. But on Christmas?
Decisively, and not sure what he would do if Horatio woke up, Rick stood and lifted him off the couch. He was heavy, but feeling the weight of Horatio's body against his chest and in his arms felt both wonderful and right. It was tempting to lean in and kiss him, but he knew better.
Careful not to jostle him around too much, Rick slowly carried him up the stairs and, after a few stabs at it, into the master bedroom. He was right, Horatio did look incredibly handsome lying on a bed of white sheets.
Rick yawned. God, that bed looked comfy… and big. If he went to the other side and just rested his eyes for a minute or so, he could clean everything up downstairs before retiring to the guest room.
The bed was softer than it looked. Now, what did he have to do again? Clean up the trash, turn off the TV and DVD player, do any dishes that were lying around, maybe line everything up for Christmas breakfast.
Yawn.
Go out and get that spare overnight bag out of the car, get everything set up in the guest room, brush his teeth.
Yawn.
God, this bed is comfy, was the last thought Rick had before falling asleep, his teeth unbrushed, the downstairs still a little cluttered, and the TV still on.
"Welcome, Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Whos far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be just as long as we have we. Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand".