Title: I don't do Merry Christmas
Author: Aydin S.K.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: John Constantine does not celebrate Christmas.

"So, you don't have any plans?" Chas inquired for the billionth time as he scooted after John who seemed to be much more in a hurry to get back to the cab ever since his apprentice started talking about the dreading subject. "John?" Chas insisted. "John."

But John kept walking, dragging his cigarette. He didn't want to hear anything about what Chas was going to suggest and maybe if he just wouldn't respond, Chas wouldn't bother with blurting it out anyway.

"Christmas, John. It's Christmas Eve," Chas pressed. "You doing anything?"

It was just John's bad luck. Maybe it was best if he said 'yes,' and give Chas the brush off or he could tell him 'no,' and continue to say he wasn't interested in that sort of sappy bullshit and scorn the kid. The first option would be a big fat lie, not that John had any problems with that but he would need a story he could fall back on in case Chas would ask about his Christmas plans and since when was John so concerned with excuses? No was nope, yeah was sure and that was John.

And it would be the death of him if he told Chas he didn't have any plans. For starters, Chas knew that John did not have anything in the form of decoration other than his whiskey and John wouldn't be surprised if the kid would show up on his doorstep roped in with flickering Christmas lights just to spite John, like he did last year and Constantine had left him standing outside because "I don't want a fucking circus in my house."
John couldn't remember how he felt about that, hell, he couldn't even remember last year's Christmas to begin with other than the hangover that lasted well past New Year's Eve, maybe even Easter.

John wasn't going to celebrate Christmas. "I'm not celebrating," John gritted through his teeth and kept marching on.

"I don't care, John," Chas flared. "I just asked if you had any plans on the days that happen to coincide with Christmas."

"No," Constantine answered before he could swallow it.

At hearing that, Chas stopped dead in his tracks as he was a little dumbstruck with the unexpected honesty that was free of degrading remarks. After he snapped out of it, Chas sprinted to catch up with John and got in his face to keep John from walking on. "Great, me neither," he said with an inviting smirk.

John sighed and tossed his spent cigarette away. "What are you expecting, Chas? I don't do Merry Christmas."

"I know you don't, John," Chas' smirk only grew bigger. "You sit alone at your table, making out with your Jack Daniels and suck up your cigarettes until you turn green."

"So you're looking to spectate?" John snorted, noticing the cab across the street.

"Yeah, John, I'm sure your drinking looks a lot different on Christmas Eve than on any other day, but, no, that's not the reason." Chas' smile momentarily disappeared at the thought of doing this dance for all eternity. He took a breath and looked into the hard stare of John to finally get it off his chest.
"I know you don't want to hear it, and I don't expect the feeling to be mutual," he determinedly came out with and paused, his face leaving traces of glowing timidity. "But I wanna spend Christmas with you."

John's face contorted with something that looked similar to abhorrence and shock but failed to form words, he didn't even bother. Chas bit his lip, he had so hoped that John wouldn't give him that look, yet somehow it wasn't unexpected either. "But not, in a, celebrating way!" he quickly added in hopes that John wouldn't turn around an walk away.

"Chas," Constantine breathed, knowing he had nothing to offer the kid to give him cheery holidays. "You might as well sit at someone's grave during your precious Christmas. Forget it."

"That's exactly what I'll be doing if you can't be bothered, John," he replied sharply.

"You're better off spending it with your family," Constantine mumbled and made an attempt to walk on.

"My family moved house, John," Chas uttered while he got in John's way again.

"Well, look 'em up."

"John," Chas sighed. He was sure of it that he had mentioned it to John before. "They're in Europe. And besides of not having a paycheck that can cover the expenses, I don't really care to see them."

John blinked. It had a familiar ring to it, but he just couldn't remember whether Chas told him about that. He shifted his weight while he tried to remember but looked away from Chas when he didn't. "So you just have no where else to go," Constantine concluded as he looked back at the kid who seemed rather lost and a bit anxious. John found it in himself to regret his choice of words.

"Don't do that, John," Chas wailed, his gaze trailing off to the ground, shedding light on the usually cloaked vulnerability.

"Cab's right there," Constantine finally spoke softly and started to walk across the street. After a few steps he looked over his shoulder when he didn't feel Chas on his heels. "Come on, give me a ride home," he tried with a lopsided grin and waited for Chas to walk with him.

"Fine," Chas mumbled. This was going nowhere, he probably had to spent Christmas by himself, in front of John's closed door or in his cab.

In silence, Chas drove Constantine to his apartment. Much to his surprise, John told him to lock up the cab and come up with him. "What?"

"Get out of the cab, Chas," John ordered.

Chas didn't hesitate after that, he was just shocked that 'Stay,' was replaced with 'Get out.' Finally, he did as John told and followed him up to his apartment. He could tell Christmas didn't mean anything to John, the place looked exactly the same as any other day yet even more sad because of that.

"Love what you did with the place," Chas mumbled with a shrug, trying to block out the uncomfortableness and not sure if he should move.

"You can sit down if you like," John snorted, pointing at a chair at the kitchen table while he walked around to get rid of his coat. Then he grabbed 2 glasses off the fridge and got out a bottle of whiskey to settle it on the table. Having Chas in his apartment livened up the place and he just never really acknowledged it that Chas also breathed some life into himself, affection that he buried somewhere deep down inside, hoping he'd never find it again.

"Planning to party?" Chas frowned at the bottle as he slowly shuffled toward the table. "No wait, this is a routine, right?" he snickered and watched John sit down who seemed perfectly calm whereas Chas wondered what planet he was on. "C'mon, John, what's this about?" Chas didn't take off his jacket just yet, nor did he sit down. The two glasses on the table troubled him, had John planned on getting him drunk?

When John refrained from answering the question and filled both the glasses instead, Chas shrugged and decided to sit down, still wearing his hat and jacket to give the impression that he would be going soon unless John gave him a good reason not to.
Chas took his drink and sipped it while John poured it down in one go, setting his glass back on the table and refilled it.

"You in a hurry?" Chas frowned at the refill.

"Nope," John said to the table.

Chas shrugged. "Whatever." He finished the rest of his drink and rose from his seat after he planted the glass back on the table, causing John to look up.

"Are you?"

"Maybe," Chas answered, hoping that this was John asking him not to leave so soon.

John glanced at his watch. "It's only a quarter to twelve in the evening," he frowned.

"Normal people consider that late, John," Chas argued and inched away from the table, slowly, still hoping John would stop him.

"So, I'm not normal?" John's stare was hard. He was not going to ask the kid to stay, no matter how much he suddenly wanted him to. Maybe it'd help if he just kept him talking. 'Chas loves to talk.'

Chas moved back to the table. "John, apart from everything else, you're so normal you're atypical."

"Come on, Chas, sit down," John finally came out with, ignored the remark and refilled both their glasses.

Chas bobbed his head, squinting his eyes and studied John but refused to be told what to do. "Mmm.. Why?"

John leaned back in his chair, laconic. "Because I asked nicely?"

"Oh, yeah," Chas grinned. "Nice going." And then he sat down only to stand up again, shrugging off his jacket while John rose and walked over to him. "What do you want?" Chas voiced a little grossed out when John held up his hand.

"Give me your jacket," John said, holding back a smile but it left traces of one in his eyes.

Shoving the coat in John's hands, he gave him a look. "Don't treat me like a woman, John," he bit, expecting John to walk away, but the man didn't. "Now what?"

It would probably be a terrible sin if John would take off the hat himself, Chas seldom took it off, but John wanted to be able to see past the hat for once. It was probably really safe under there. With one finger, John carefully lifted it up, searching for the eyes harbored in shadows.

Annoyed, Chas batted the hand away. "And do not peek-a-boo me."

"Then take it off," John chuckled.

"If I do then that's the last thing I'm taking off, you hear me?" he warned after a moment's hesitation and took his hat off, handing it to John who seemed pleased for as far as he bothered to express that.
He watched John as he turned around, curiously studying the man's back as he walked over to the coat rack and settled Chas' things on it. Without taking his eyes off of John, he reached for his glass and took a big swig, maybe John's sexiness would go away if he drank some more. Chas shook his head, he knew damn well that wouldn't work and he didn't want it to work.
He sat down again, sliding the empty glass away while John treaded back to the table, ready to fill their glasses again.

"John," Chas started as he rose again. "Could we not get drunk?"

"One more," John snorted. "To mark the occasion."

"As far as you're concerned, there is no occasion, John."

"All right," he said after a moment and closed the bottle again. "What did you have in mind then?"

"Nothing in particular, just.." he wavered. 'I can't do this without my hat.'

"Just, what?" John asked and walked over to quite suddenly be greeted by Chas' lips that were pressed on his. Both were motionless. All this was nice, fun and not to mention really nice, but John broke it off. "What's that for?" he wondered.

"Nothing, I just thought I saw a mistletoe," Chas said with a big smirk. "Merry Christmas, John."

"Yeah," John chuckled. "You, too."