December 23: Silver Watches

Pairing: Thomas/Jimmy

Rating: T for strong language and some angst coming from Thomas

Thomas had only just risen from bed, bleary eyed and thirsty for a cup of tea, when the doorbell rang.

"What the hell?" he grumbled, plodding across the cold floor in his socks to the front door. There were only a few days until Christmas, and Thomas figured that if people had bothered to set their alarm clocks to some ungodly hour, a frantic shopping excursion would be in mind rather than banging on his door. He didn't have to work until after the new year, most of his Christmas shopping was done, so he therefore was taking the time to enjoy a semi-late morning (it was about half-past eight).

He unlocked the door and opened it as wide as a book spine. Jimmy was standing rather close, swaddled in a heavy jacket and a cobalt blue scarf. Thomas blinked away the specks of gunk in his eyes and opened the door completely.

Jimmy looked Thomas up and down; the latter man was only in a shirt that hadn't been ironed lately, boxer shorts, and thermal socks.

"Erm, Thomas?" Jimmy started hesitantly. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Nah, I was up already," Thomas said, shrugging.

"Oh. Well, you don't look very awake," Jimmy added jokingly.

"I'm not completely awake. I haven't had anything to eat yet," Thomas explained. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Thanks, but I don't have very long. I'm catching the train in a few minutes," Jimmy said. "I'm going to my cousins' house for the holiday.I just came by to – to give you this."

Jimmy held out a small wrapped package. It wasn't much bigger than somebody's fist, but it was fairly weighty when Thomas took it from Jimmy.

"I – er, God Jimmy – what is this, a gold nugget?"

"Not exactly," Jimmy said, appearing rather bashful. "I hope you like it. I sort of guessed on what to get you – actually, I did have some help – but I wasn't completely sure –"

Thomas smiled at Jimmy, and the man quickly stopped his stammering sentences. "Really Jimmy, this is so thoughtful of you. I hope you didn't spend too much on me."

Jimmy's face grew red. "I did splurge some, but since you've been such a good friend to me recently, I thought you deserved something that costs the earth."

Thomas weighed the package in his palm, bobbing his hand up and down. He smiled just like a young child who was allowed to open presents before the big day. "Shall I open it now, or do it properly, on Christmas?"

"Whenever you prefer," Jimmy said. "Only – please don't judge me too harshly on it."

"Jimmy, why the fuck should I judge you on your Christmas gifts?" Thomas asked. "If it's any consolation, it's so considerate of you to buy something nice for me."

"How can you say it's nice when you haven't even opened it yet?" Jimmy asked, waving a hand towards the package.

"God, Jimmy, you can't just accept that I'm going to like it no matter what," Thomas said. "Answer me this: what would you say if I said I had a gift for you?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Jimmy answered, "I would say that I was flattered that you bought me something."

"I hope you'll stay true to your word," Thomas said. He disappeared from Jimmy's sight briefly. Jimmy stood awkwardly at the door, checking his watch to see if he'd make the train on time. But he was hardly left waiting for a whole minute before Thomas reappeared, holding a book in both hands. He offered it to Jimmy.

"I thought I'd wrap it this afternoon, but since you're leaving now, I suppose I ought to give it to you now," Thomas explained. "You can read it on the train."

Jimmy looked at the cover. The Count of Monte Cristo. He'd read it before, but he had lost his copy sometime during university, and somehow had never bothered to buy another copy. He must had mentioned to Thomas that he had enjoyed reading the book at some time, though he couldn't remember when.

"I am flattered, Thomas," Jimmy finally said. "Usually people get me weird shirts or clever mugs, boring shit like that. But I really do like this, and I'm not bullshitting you."

"It's probably worth nothing compared you what's in that little box," Thomas said. "But I know you like adventure books, and it's a cool looking jacket, so I thought – you know, you'd enjoy reading it again."

"I'll definitely read it on the train," Jimmy said. "Thanks a lot for this."

"You're welcome. And have a good time at your cousins' place."

"I'll try, but most of them are duller than paint," Jimmy conceded.

"Then I suppose you'll have your book to keep you company," Thomas said. "You should hurry, or you'll miss the train."

"I know. Thanks again," Jimmy said. "Happy Christmas." He turned away from Thomas, clutching Monte Cristo under his arm.

"Happy Christmas," Thomas called out. He watched Jimmy walk farther away, until he turned the corner at the end of the street. It was only then that Thomas closed the door and reached for the miniscule package he had left next to his keys. He turned it over in his hand, making a list in his head of what it could possibly be.

Heading back to the kitchen, where the kettle was just beginning to sing with steam, Thomas set the gift on countertop to prepare his morning cup of tea. He was satisfied that Jimmy appreciated the book. He had been wandering about the bookstore where The Count of Monte Cristo had been standing upright on a table, and somehow a memory of Jimmy speaking, like an audio file, had surfaced. It could have purely been his imagination, but something had urged him to purchase the book for Jimmy. It had been quite costly, as it was a limited edition, but Thomas thought the sacrifice was worth it. It seemed a good bet and a good gift to get him, as it wasn't a generic anything. Nor was it an implication of anything romantic, as Thomas knew Jimmy was still uncertain about – well, anything concerning romance. Even if Thomas himself was convinced that they'd be alright together, he wasn't going to push Jimmy to do anything he didn't want to do. That would be a bad onset that would end with Jimmy's love life being totaled. No, he'd let Jimmy decide what he eventually wanted.

Thomas made his cup of tea and sat down at the table, pensively fingering the corners of the wrapping paper. To be honest, he was feeling a little tense towards the thought of opening Jimmy's gift. Thomas prided himself on knowing what people thought of others by the way they talked and dressed and such, and gift-giving was a capital indicator. By giving Jimmy the book, Thomas had communicated that he listened well to what Jimmy said, and that he cared enough to gift him with something other than a crude shirt.

But what did Jimmy have to communicate through his gift? That was what Thomas was unsure about.

Slowly yet inexorably, he began to pull apart the paper edges, trying his best not to tear the thin crinkled shell (he hated the sound wrapping paper made when it ripped). The package was indubitably professionally wrapped, which made it easier to undo the folded edges and thin strips of tape. After some time, Thomas had managed to free the compact silver box. He could easily lift the lid and peer inside to scrutinize what the mystery gift was now, but he was still tentative about doing so. He shook his head and scolded himself; he was acting like he was opening Pandora's damn box. Inhaling deeply, he grasped the edges of the lid between his fingers and pulled upwards.

"Oh … my … fucking … " Thomas couldn't even finish his profane exclamation on account of his breathlessness.

It was so much more precious than a lump of gold. It was a large model, crafted of steel that possessed the reflective power of silver. When Thomas picked it up – once he gathered enough courage to do so – it did not feel as heavy as it looked, though it was still fairly weighty. The watch face was overlain with jet black and pearly white, forming the Roman numerals to which the paper-thin needles pointed to. Thomas had to peer very closely to see all of the intricate details. He felt like he was holding something that cost more than everything in his flat put together, but when he tried to search the box for a price tag (so he could rebuke Jimmy for giving him a watch worth twice the national debt) he found that it had been blocked out by permanent marker.

Never had Philip given him something so valuable, and he knew how Thomas felt about clocks and watches. Even if his father had dabbled with time-telling products, he had never been able to afford something that resembled diamonds. Thomas was, in short, touched that Jimmy would go through so much trouble to please him this Christmas.

Smiling and blinking back tears of gratitude, Thomas reached for the note that Jimmy had stuck in the box. It was hastily scribbled, and from the shakiness of the script, it was evident that Jimmy had been blushing furiously when he had written it.

I hope you don't think this is too pretentious of a gift. I know you probably got a lot of expensive gifts from Philip Dickhead in the past but I really do think you deserve this. Happy Christmas.

On the paper, just below Christmas, was a small indent, as if he had pressed a pen too hard. Thomas turned the note over.

Do you want to get together after New Year's?