A Brotherhood Christmas

By Michiru

Pietro

Bath is good, Pietro thought with an audible sigh as he went into his cool room.

The fire wasn't the most efficient way to heat the house, but it damped the nip of the

freezing air down, and made the living room almost perfect. He knew that sleeping in the

living room that night was the best option, though. Otherwise, he'd probably freeze to

death overnight.

He pulled his pajama bottoms on, only pulling the drawstring enough to keep

them from falling off his slender hips, then sat on the windowsill, one leg dangling to the

floor, back to the frame, and looked out. The snow was still coming down in fat, lazy

flakes, drifting down to blend into the already thick blanket that covered the world.

This would be an ok Christmas, all told. He was with his family, they had food,

heat (kind of, centred in one room) and shelter of a sort.

But he did find himself missing Wanda. He always missed her most at this time

of year. Though they celebrated Hanukkah as children, he could remember them as little

kids on Christmas day, crawling out of their bed in feeted pajamas and down the stairs,

into the living room. Hand in hand they would stared reverently at the toys dancing

around the room. Model airplanes would fly about their heads seemingly like magic.

Dolls would dance, and there would even be a decorated tree. December 25th always

seemed extra special, filled with happiness and light. At least, when they were young it

was that way. When his father cared about him and his twin sister.

"Hey, Pietro," Lance came into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Lance," Pietro said softly, and tipped his head back against the window

frame, smiling over at the older boy. He looked pretty handsome in his striped pj

bottoms, muscular chest bare and strong looking. He watched as he came in, carrying an

oil lamp that cast a flickering warm glow about him.

Lance put the lamp down on the bureau and started over. Pietro looked back

outside, seeing all the festive lights people had decorated their houses with shine like

coloured stars.

"I love this time of year," he said conversationally, tone hushed. "The snow, the

lights, seeing people happy and excited, decorations, being with my father and sister..."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, my twin sister. But she's gone," Pietro told him sadly, but making sure

the tone was clear he didn't want to continue about that subject.

"Ah," Lance nodded, taking the hint. "Can we talk?" he added, sitting on Pietro's

bed, looking over at him.

"Sure. What about?" Pietro turned his head to look over at him.

"You like me, don't you?" Lance got to the point pretty quickly.

"What?" Pietro blinked. "Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"

Lance was a dark shape on the bed. The lamp was on his left, and Pietro was on

his right, so all he could see was a glow around Lance, his form clearly defined.

"I don't mean friendship, Pietro, I mean sexually. Wanting me in bed with you."

Pietro's face burned. He was really glad the room was pretty dark, and hoped

there wasn't enough light for Lance to see. "Who... what... I..."

"It's Ok, Pietro. You can admit it. I'm not going to get mad or anything. I'm

rather flattered, actually." The bed creaked as Lance moved slightly.

Pietro found himself at a loss for words, probably for the first time ever. His

thoughts started racing in a circle, going over several things per second. He's going to

laugh at me, he's going to tell everyone, the others will laugh at me, it's all a cruel joke-

"Pietro, c'mere," Lance patted the bed beside him.

Pietro got up and slowly went to the bed. He folded himself beside Lance, very

conscious on how close they were. Lance moved slightly, causing their thighs to touch.

Pietro shivered slightly, more from nerves than the cold. What was going on?

What was going to happen? He was touching Lance! He never thought he'd ever get this close...

"Pietro," Lance called. Pietro continued to look down at his hands in his lap,

twisting them.

"Yeah?"

"Pietro, look at me." Lance told him softly.

Pietro still looked down. He felt Lance move again, then felt the older boy take

his chin and lift his face up so he could see Lance. "Pietro, why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Are you kidding?" Pietro's voice cracked slightly as he laughed. "And have to deal with the look you'd give me? How you'd laugh and ridicule me?"

"I'd never laugh to you about something like this. This kind of thing is pretty

serious," Lance ran his thumb over Pietro's cheek.

"To me, not necessarily to you, though," Pietro tried to duck his head, but the

brunet's grip was too secure.

"Yes, to me, too," Lance nodded. He leaned over, and gently brushed his lips

against Pietro's.

TBC
**Disclaimer**
I do not own any of the characters within this fic. This is just a fic, not gospel, and situations that may be within the show don't necessarily make their way here. And vice versa.