On Christmas morning, Porthos wakes up to the smell of churros, two seconds before Aramis is woken up by the herd of children who jump into bed with them. He groans jokingly as they shout "merry Christmas" at him, and then gathers them all in for a hug with a soft, "joyeux Noel, mes poulettes". Porthos is lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, watching them all with a gentle smile. Aramis sees and smiles back, before whispering something to the children, who then give Porthos the same treatment they gave their papa. Once they are quite sure they've sufficiently squashed Porthos, the six of them settle around him and Aramis. The twins sit in Aramis's lap, Rene is sitting on Porthos', Leon lies between them and Luke and Celeste sit cross legged at the end of the bed. They stay there in silence for seconds that feel like hours, simply enjoying being so close together.
Aramis' mother walks in then, a tray full of fresh churros and warm chocolate sauce in her hands. She beams at the sight of her family. Porthos thinks this is the first time he's seen her without any make up on, in her fluffy dressing gown and matching fluffy slippers. Her hair, however, is still in an elegant chignon at the back of her head, as always. She places the tray in the middle and strokes Luke's hair fondly, before telling them to eat up and there's more in the kitchen.
They do eat, and the breakfast tray is clean in record time, even with all their laughing and joking. Every now and again, Porthos catches Aramis looking at him, but he doesn't say a word. When the last drop of chocolate sauce is gone, Porthos heaves out of bed.
"Come on, my wild things, we should go and keep Abuela company," he tells them, and they all run out to the kitchen. He turns to Aramis then, who is still sitting in bed. He takes the tray and kisses his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Aramis," he says quietly, and then he leaves. When he's gone, Aramis sighs and rubs his hand over his face. He felt his stomach drop when Porthos leaned in to kiss him, and he knows what's coming next. And he doesn't want to stop it happening either. He hauls himself out of bed, throws a dressing gown on, and goes to the kitchen.
Once they finish breakfast- and everybody helps with the clearing up- they head to the living room to open presents. They all take the ones out of their stockings first, the small gifts from friends and neighbours and open them with delight. Soon, the floor is covered in wrapping paper.
The twins squeal in delight as their abuela hands them her presents. As usual, she has bought them flamenco dresses in their favourite colours. For all the other children, she buys a traje corto- the short jackets that bull fighters wear, and as usual, each individual one is embroidered in different colours, though they are all black. She stopped buying Celeste flamenco dresses aged twelve. Celeste had worn hers to school for a project about their family history, and had forgotten to take in her normal clothes in her haste to get to school on time- much to the amusement of every other child in school- though Luke did stand up on a table in the middle of the lunch hall and threaten to fight everyone if they continued to laugh.
For Aramis and Porthos, she bought beautiful matching ties, though the colours were inversed- Porthos with purple flowers on white, and Aramis with white flowers on purple. The two thanked her, and she patted their cheeks, saying "only the best for her boys".
"Porthos you have to open ours now," insisted Luke, who had a mischievous grin on his face. Porthos looked at him curiously, and opened the present he was handed.
"Parenting for dummies," he read the title, and burst into laughter. "Nice to know you have such faith in me," he tells Luke, and then ruffles the boys hair. Celeste rolls her eyes and hands him another present.
"Your actual gift from us," she says, and bounces her foot impatiently as he opens it. It's a white t-shirt with seven hand prints across the chest, getting smaller from left to right and creating a rainbow. Porthos traces over the lines on each hand, and sniffs in an attempt not to cry. "It goes Aramis, Luke, me, Leon, Rene, Adalyn, Nannette," Celeste tells him, and he pulls her in for a hug.
"I love it," he beams, and then reaches over to the pile of presents on the left of the tree. "For you lot," he says, handing a present to each of them. The kids look at each other and then back at him. All the presents feel the same. "You remember when I was reading you Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone?" he says, and their jaws drop.
"No way," Luke mumbles, and then rips open the paper. The others all follow suit, and hold up the jumpers in front of them, before pulling them over their pyjamas.
"You got us Weasley Christmas jumpers," Leon marvels, staring down at his red jumper with a golden "L" on it. Aramis laughs at the sight of them.
"Hold on I have to take a photo." He grabs his camera from the coffee table, and gets them all to line up in front of the tree. "Oh this is one for the album," he announces, grinning at the picture.
"You mean the album you never actually get round to putting together?" teases his mum, and he grins- albeit a little guiltily.
"About that," says Rene, and crawls under the tree. "For you, Papa." He proudly presents Aramis with the gift, and Aramis opens it more keenly than the children opened theirs. On the front of the photo album is a picture of the seven of them smiling, huddled up together on the sofa. Porthos took that photo.
"You never get around to it," Celeste says as she hugs Aramis, who lets a tear trickle down his face. Nannette crawls into his lap and kisses it away.
"We did it for you instead, Papa."
They continue opening presents once Aramis has his moment- a shawl for his mother; a new hat for Celeste; the family cook book for Luke- who beams and squeezes Aramis so hard it could break him; new art supplies for Leon, who looks a little overwhelmed by the amount of presents he's received today- the children all opened their presents from each other earlier; new ballet shoes for Rene; a princess dress for Adalyn and new ladybird tights and matching fairy wings for Nannette.
He hands Porthos a tiny box.
"What's this?" Porthos laughs and shakes the box. "Not jewellery I hope."
"Porthos you are literally wearing earrings right now," says Celeste, who looks entirely unimpressed.
"An earring, my dear. An earring. Subtle and understated- unlike Aramis."
She rolls her eyes and tells him to just open the box before Aramis bites through his lip. Porthos does, and is surprised to find a key.
"It's your home too," Aramis says quietly when Porthos pulls him in for a hug. "You shouldn't have to be borrowing mine or Luke's or Celeste's the whole time."
Aramis' mother throws her hands up in the air with a "oh my lord" as she walks in, dressed in a festively green dress, and then walks out again- telling the children to hurry up and get dressed so they can help her in the kitchen and also to clear up the living room.
"But Porthos hasn't given Papa his present yet!"
Porthos blushes and looks at Aramis. "I'll have to give you yours later," he mumbles, and Aramis raises an eyebrow.
"I'm intrigued," he replies, and Luke and Celeste make vomiting noises as they leave the room- only to be told off by their abuela. Porthos is sure that he's bright red with embarrassment, and Aramis is hiding his face behind his hands.
After lunch and once everything is cleared up, Aramis' mother informs him that she's taking the children on a walk to the church. Her tone indicates no arguments, and the children scramble to grab their coats, hats and scarves. Not five minutes later, Aramis and Porthos are alone in the flat.
"Does this mean I get my Christmas present now?" he asks, and Porthos nods, talking Aramis' hand and leading him to the living room. He sits down in front of the piano, and pats the space next to him on the stool. Aramis sits.
"Porthos, in case you didn't realise, I do know we have a piano," he teases. Porthos tells him to hush and close his eyes, so he does as he's told. He hears a rustling of papers, and then Porthos starts to play.
It's a beautiful piece, changing from major to minor, from slow to fast, and by the end of it Aramis has the cross that permanently hangs on a chain around his neck pressed to his lips, and he's crying. He opens his eyes when Porthos runs his thumb over his cheek, wiping away his tears. He sniffs and gives the other man a watery smile.
"You finally finished it," he whispers and Porthos nods, placing his hand on Aramis' shoulder. When they met, Porthos was just getting started on composing. By the time Aramis left the army, Porthos still not finished his first piece- though it had changed an innumerable amount of times. And now, he'd finished it, and it was better than anything Aramis could imagine. He doesn't quite understand what is going on still until Porthos hands him a pile of sheet music, bound together like a book. The first page is his first work- it's dated on the top right hand corner. Aramis flicks through the book, his brow creasing until he finally gets to the last page- the finished piece.
He runs his fingers over the title.
"For my Aramis," he whispers, and pulls Porthos into a tight embrace. "Thank you," he mumbles when he pulls away, and Porthos is smiling at him so warmly, and he just wants to kiss him.
It's at that moment that the doorbell rings.
Later, Aramis is in the kitchen with his mother, drinking tea as Porthos puts the children to bed.
"You love him, don't you?" she asks quietly, in Spanish.
"I think," Aramis says, entirely unaware that Luke and Celeste are listening outside the door. "I think I always have."