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2020-11-05
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Dreaming in a White Christmas

Summary:

Fandom: CSI Miami (non-Sylum)
Pairing: Horatio/Speed
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made, just dusting off old fic.
Warning: Mention of family abuse, cliched used of falling snow/Christmas trees/hearth fire and evil!parents.
Summary: Speed returns to New York for Christmas with his parents.
Submitted through the HurtComfortFic mailing list.

Work Text:

Dreaming in a White Christmas
by Sam

The lights are out and I'm laying here curled up with Speed on the couch, just watching the flames dance in the fireplace. The snow is falling softly outside just as it has since we arrived in New York. Nice of Speed's father to put us up in his townhouse for the weekend. Even if it did come with the price that Speed would have to spend Christmas Eve with his parents. I can't say his family, not after the farce I saw tonight.

No, Speed's real family is in Miami. Eric, Calleigh, Alexx...me. Though I'm here with him because he didn't want to face his blood relatives alone. And I wouldn't let him. None of my people should ever have to face their worst enemies alone; without someone there to watch their back.

I shiver and I don't think it's because of the cold, though it's something I'm not used to, at least not anymore. Too accustomed now to the Miami heat. No this cold cuts to the bone like only those that know us best can. Though as for Speed's parents, they don't know their son at all anymore. Not really. The sad part of me tends to think they never really did.

But now the party's over, in more ways than one I expect, and we're back in the city. A city much different than Miami but still a city nonetheless. Surrounded by buildings much taller than itself, this brownstone is quite cozy actually. Tastefully decorated, understated in a stereotypical Christmas family theme. Green garland wrapped around doorways and mantels, lights and golden beads strung and wrapped with it. Tasteful red bows. Christmas tree in the corner complete with tree skirt covered with presents also tastefully wrapped in gold paper and red silk ribbon. I smile as I think of the ones we brought for each other; they stand out a bit. The ones for me, Speed had wrapped in purple paper with penguins wearing Santa hats and a bright red bow. Mine I had wrapped in blue topped off with iridescent silver ribbon. Those we would open later, the others would be left just as they were; unopened and perfectly preserved for show.

Yes, a little different than their larger counterparts I would say. Much like Speed. He came because they asked and he needed to make this trip. He told me as much the day before we left and I agreed. He knew what would happen when he arrived; that was why he wanted some company, laughingly calling it backup. A touchstone to normal in the maelstrom of insanity that had been his home life. I didn't know what would happen when I agreed to be that touchstone; didn't know I would end up in a very nice den, enjoying all the trappings of a traditional Christmas Eve, complete with fire in the hearth, tree and presents and snow falling softly outside my window. Complete with Speed wrapped up in my arms, drowsing on the couch by that fire.

Myself even hours later still wanting nothing more than to wipe that disappointed, disapproving grimace off of the elder Speedle's face when his butler opened the door and he saw his son standing there. With a man. The idea that Speed...it had never crossed my mind until that very moment. The moment Speed's eyes widened in realization, flickering to me before returning to his father, emotions flying dark and silent between them. Before Speed turned and walked away. I caught up with him at the driveway, convinced him to stay a bit longer. That it was all right; I was all right. That he had come all this way, surely there must be something to be salvaged out of this...misunderstanding. He had studied me a moment and I had let him see what he needed of me. Speed nodded and we walked back inside.

That had been a mistake. I know that now. We should have turned back around and I should have gotten Tim as far away from those people calling themselves his family as I could. Hindsight, as I now know from personal experience in which Speed bore the brunt of, can be a real bitch sometimes.

The last straw - only *after* the shouting match in the middle of dinner where words were exchanged that no son should ever hear from a father - was when that father had drawn back his hand to hit his son. And Speed - who had flinched, so clearly having expected to be hit that he had to have seen it coming - had never moved.

I never thought. Just moved between them, catching that hand before it could land and informing Speedle Senior that if he ever dared lay a hand on his son again he would answer to me. In that moment I don't know who I surprised most; Speed, his father or myself.

Speed took my hand, the one with the vise grip on his father's wrist and quietly told me it was time to go. As we were leaving, Mrs Speedle watched her son walk out the door, out of their lives...and never said a word.

I sigh. I'm very tired all of a sudden and lying here with Speed in my arms was the one good thing that came out of this miserable trip. After hitting the door here, Speed had turned, pushing me against it and kissed me. More than a kiss, Speed had plundered my mouth, tongue demanding and taking my surrender before I had even thought of offering it. It was only after we had broken the kiss, panting and struggling to breathe and Speed was leaning against me, holding himself upright that I realized he was shaking, and it wasn't from the cold. Nerves, he had laughed, tears bright in his eyes. Adrenaline, I had agreed, chuckling with him.

His eyes had risen then, dark and a little scared of what they might find that I couldn't help cupping his face in both of my hands, absently noticing that his had gone around my waist, and kissed him. Softly, sweetly, an affirmation of his earlier desperate attack.

"H?"

"I'm here." I promised.

"I love you." Head buried in the bulk of my coat, his arms had tightened around me, irresistibly reminding me of a little boy lost.

I kissed the top of his head, soft strands cold and damp from the snow falling outside. "I know."

"Horatio..." he had growled pulling back to look at me and I laughed, smiling into those dark eyes just to see them shine.

"I love you, too."

Now we lay here on the couch, Speed is finally asleep, having spent the last hour talking about his family and Christmases in New York; glossing over the bad I'm sure as more a kindness to me than to spare himself any lingering pain. I surround him, spooned back against my chest, my arms holding him safe and secure in my embrace as he sleeps. The Christmas tree with its pure white lights is a cheerful presence in the corner, lording over presents we will politely refuse, and the Christmas snow is still falling softly outside. I pull the quilted afghan from the back of the couch, adding the extra layer of warmth around him and he snuggles in closer, his chin resting on my forearm where it curls under his jaw, his arms covering mine.

In this peaceful, idyllic winter scene I watch the fire. Knowing the only true peace to be found for me anymore, is in the man lying in my arms.

end