Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There's an email waiting for Julio when he gets home from work.  It was sent to an email he hasn't actively used for anything important since he was a teenager, an old AOL account that he mostly uses to sign up for shit online these days.  He clears it out once a month and then goes back to forgetting it exists.  Today happens to be a day where he has time to clear out his inbox.  And waiting for him at the top is an email from his mom.  He stares at it for a bit, blankly, not even opening it yet, because he has no fucking clue what to do with this.  The last time he talked to her, he was eighteen and angry and hated himself.  That was ten years ago and while he'd like to think he's grown up since then, right now he feels like a lost little kid.  He takes a deep breath, mouse hovering over the email.  He considers just trashing it for a solid minute, then tells himself to man up and just read it already instead of spinning out about all the worst case scenarios.  It's just his mom.  Except his mom comes with all the other baggage of his family, so it's never just her.  It's her and his father and his uncles and cousins and the guns and the bloodshed and the arguments that never went anywhere because none of them fucking listened to him.  It's his mom and all of the expectations he never lived up to.  All the different ways he's a fucking failure in the eyes of his family just for existing.

He clicks on the email, despite the fact that he's probably going to hate himself for it.

Dear Julio,

I do not know if you will read this, but I miss you very much.  Your cousin Omar is out of prison and I am hoping that you will see this email because I want to have a true Christmas with all the family.  I know we have had our disagreements in the past but you are my son and I love you and want to see you again.  Here is my phone number, please call me.

xxx-xxx-xxxx.

Love,

Mama

He closes the tab and stares at the wall for a long time, leg bouncing anxiously.  When Star comes home, he doesn't mention it.  Christmas is over a month and a half away, and he just doesn't want to expose Star to his shitshow of a family, at least any more than he already has.

The email sits unanswered in his inbox for a solid month.  Normally time just sort of passes and he doesn't pay attention, but now he feels hyper-aware of the passing days, mentally tallying each date that would have meant something to him as a kid during the Christmas season.  He feels restless and sad, worse than winter usually makes him feel.  Star makes it worse, but not on purpose.  It's just that Julio can see the wistfulness in his eyes as decorations go up and he keeps coming home to find him watching Halmark movies.  And he can't blame him, of course.  He's not doing anything wrong.  Christmas is hard for both of them.  Him, because he misses the good parts of his childhood.  Star, because he doesn't have anything to miss but misses it anyway.  Julio sees it on his face whenever Ali's holiday album starts playing over the radio.  He keeps thinking about the email, until it feels like the words are burning a hole in the back of his throat.

"Hey," he says on the twentieth of December, four days before Christmas Eve, "I got an email from my mom."

Star, who's brushing his hair and sitting cross-legged in front of their full-length bedroom mirror because sitting down helps him focus, puts down the brush and cocks his head.  "Today?"

He shrugs.  "Like a month ago."  He feels guilty, suddenly.  "Sorry I didn't mention it before.  I didn't answer it or anything, I just-" he swallows.  "Haven't talked to her in, like, ten years."

He remembers their last conversation.  It isn't a happy memory.

"She invited me to Christmas," he finishes lamely.

Star blinks at him.  "Do you want to go?"

He shrugs.  "Not really?  I mean, she doesn't know I'm gay, so I would have to explain about you and me, and that would be a fuckin' nightmare."  He walks over and sits down next to Star, picking up the hairbrush and working through the tangles.  "I just- I do miss her, y'know?  Even though I know it would end badly, I keep thinking about what Christmas was like when I was a kid.  'Cause it was one of the few times my family felt normal.  And I miss that."

"We did not celebrate Christmas on Mojoworld," Star says, "But I understand the positive associations, because Christmas has always been something I celebrate with you."

Julio exhales, focusing on a particularly stubborn knot in Star's hair rather than answering right away.  "I know," he says.  "And I know it makes you sad, that you don't have family to celebrate with."

"I have you, and the various members of the teams we have been on over the years," Star insists.

"Yeah, but it's not the same, is it?"

"No," Star says after a moment, voice soft, "It is not the same."

They're both silent for a bit, Julio finishing brushing through Star's hair and starting on the braid.  It's always comforting, doing this for him.  It's something they started doing even before they were together. 

"You could go without me," Star suggests hesitantly.

"I'm not leaving you alone on Christmas, dude," Julio tells him, tying off the braid with a Christmas scrunchie.  Star's got themed hair ties for every holiday.  It's really fucking cute.  "If I went, you'd come too."

"Even though it would make it difficult for you?"

He leans forward and rests his chin on Star's shoulder.  "Yeah, even then.  It's like you said, you have me no matter what."

Star turns his head and dips his chin to catch him in a kiss.  It's not really a surprise, not when they've been together so long.  They know each other's moves.  But there's comfort in the predictability of it, in knowing how Star moves and not having to guess at what's going on inside his head every second of the day.  In knowing that Star knows him just as well.  They make out for a bit, until his ass starts to go numb from sitting on the floor and he can feel Star hard against his thigh.  The heater kicks on as they move to the bed, and by the time they're done they're both sweaty and blissed out.  Julio knows he wouldn't trade this for anything.

"I gotta get to work," he says, wishing he could just stay in bed for the rest of the day.  Beating back the part of his brain that makes him want to never move again.  It's always worse during the winter.  "But I'll see you later."

Star nods, burrowing further into the blankets.  Julio kisses his cheek and pulls the blanket over him before heading to the Shakedown.  He loves what he's built here, more than anything Krakoa had to offer.  Sometimes it all feels like a dream, most days.  Except for the nightmares he still has and the scars and the fact that his powers are different.  The fact that he can feel the island like an open wound some days.  He stares at the Christmas lights strung up around the bar and the little menorah in the window that Bobby Drake brought by and thinks of being a kid, of villancicos and buñuelos and trying not to fall asleep during midnight mass and the connection to home that he can't quite shake, despite all the bad shit that happened to him there.

He's still thinking about it on the subway, and then as he walks up to their apartment.  He can't stop thinking about it, even if it might be healthier for him to just forget.  He would be a lot happier if he could.  Star is on the couch when he walks in, a Halmark movie playing.  He's got that wistful expression on his face and a plate of reheated Chinese takeout in his lap and looking at him still makes Julio feel like he's eighteen and scared shitless because he's falling in love for the first time and doesn't know how to handle it.

He's come a long way in ten years.

He strips out of his coat and plops down on the couch next to Star, throwing an arm over his shoulder and kissing his cheek because he can, because he's not eighteen and he's not scared anymore.

"Love you," he says, because he can say it now without feeling like he's going to throw up.

"Love you, too," Star says, eyes still glued to the screen.

Julio doesn't get his fascination with these movies, but there's a lot of things about Star he doesn't get that he goes along with anyway.  That's ninety-nine percent of making their relationship work.  Star doesn't get all the shit Julio's brain pulls, but he sticks around.  God knows why.  He zones out, resting his head on Star's shoulder and playing with the end of his braid.  Presses his nose against the bare skin of his neck and feels Star jolt a little at the cold.

"Julio," Star says, half-laughing, half-warning.

Julio adjusts, pressing his lips to Star's shoulder instead.  Pauses, then drags his teeth across the skin.  Retracing his steps from earlier.  Feels Star shudder and grins, soothing over the already disappearing mark with his tongue.

"Julio," Star says again, a hiccup of something in his voice.

"What," he says, voice tinged with mischief, "Am I distractin' you?"  He kisses Star's neck, nosing at the sensitive spot under his jaw.  "You want me to stop?"

"No," Star says, voice turning soft and dark with intent, "I do not want you to stop."  He pauses the movie, and sets his dinner on the coffee table.

After, when they're curled up together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, he runs his fingers through Star's hair and thinks about how he wants to introduce Star to his mom.  It won't go well, of course, but he fantasizes for a moment about a world where it does.  Where he gets to have Christmas like he's a kid again and have his boyfriend there.  He feels shitty about it.  He's happy with what they have, of course he is, but he still wants more.  He's jealous of the perfect Christmas special TV show families, the straight people that don't have to think twice about introducing the people they love to their parents without it blowing up in their faces.

He's never handled these things very well.  When he was younger, he ran away.  He's been trying not to do that.  He wonders if that's what he's doing by ignoring his mom's email.  He grimaces at the thought.  Sometimes he hates being self-aware.  When he was younger, he could cope in unhealthy ways like drinking and running away because he didn't know any better.  Now, though, he has to at least try to be a functional human being.  His stomach growls, and he groans, burying his face in Star's neck.

"Julio?" Star says sleepily, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he mumbles.  "Jus' thinkin'."

Star hums, hand coming up to stroke his spine.  He melts a little, exhaling, trying to just exist in his body and not think about shit for a while.  It's a losing battle, but he can try for a little while.  Star helps.  God, does he help.  He stays like that until he can't ignore that he's hungry anymore, and he drags himself off of the couch and into the kitchen.

"You hungry?" he asks Star, rooting through the fridge.  "I'm gonna make something."

Star lifts his head.  "I am always hungry for your cooking.  You are very talented in the kitchen."

Julio laughs a little, flustered.  Star has a way of complimenting him that makes it sound like he's stating an objective fact.  "Thanks, dude.  You got any requests?"

Star shakes his head, closing his eyes.  Julio knows he's been trying to figure himself out lately.  He's not built for normal human society and Julio doesn't fault him for that, but he knows Star feels unfulfilled sitting at home all day.  Even Star can't watch TV all day every day without going a little stir crazy, as it turns out.  He's been volunteering at a soup kitchen lately, and Julio is proud of him for it.

"Okay," he says, and he realizes he's subconsciously looking for ingredients for the foods of his childhood as he goes through the fridge.  He closes the door and presses his forehead to the cool metal of it, blinking back sudden tears.  "Actually, I'm feeling kinda shitty.  Might just have leftovers."

He tries to breathe through it.  In for two, hold for three, out for four.  In for two, hold for three, out for four.  In for two-  He chokes, something sticky filling his lungs like crude oil.  He's vaguely aware of Star getting off the couch and coming up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his chin to the crown of Julio's hair.  A comforting pressure, like tectonic plates shifting together.

"Tell me what is the matter," Star says.

"I think I wanna call my mom," Julio blurts.  He wants to, god does he.  But the idea also fills him with terror.  "I've been thinking about it and I want to go back to Mexico for Christmas like she offered."

Saying it is like a physical weight off his chest.  Part of him wants Star to tell him no, just so he has an easy out, but Star just hums.  "Would I go with you?" he asks carefully.

"Yeah," he says.  "Yeah, y'know, I'll just tell her about us over the phone.  That way if she freaks out then we don't make the trip for no reason."

"A sensible strategy," Star agrees, kissing his hair.

Julio leans back against him and breathes out.  "Yeah.  Let's hope it doesn't blow up in my face."

They sit back down on the couch, both silent as he dials the number from the email.  The phone rings just long enough for his anxiety to go practically nuclear before his mom picks up.  "Hey, Mama," he says in Spanish, the words coming easier than he thought they would.

"Julio, is that you?  My son, how are you?"  Her voice sounds strange through the phone, almost alien.  Like a total stranger, yet so familiar at the same time that it hurts somewhere deep in his chest.  It makes it hard to breathe.

"I'm good," he tells her, voice cracking slightly.

"I worried you would not call!  It is so good to hear your voice," she says, excitement palpable.  "Are you coming home for Christmas?"

He swallows.  "Yeah.  I, uh, I am.  Is it okay if I bring someone with me?"  He grabs Star's hand to keep his from shaking.

"Oh, yes of course.  I would love to meet your girlfriend!"

He winces.  Star squeezes his hand.  "I don't have a girlfriend.  But-"

"Oh, well, then there's plenty of young women I can introduce you to."

"Thanks," he says around his stupid, useless tongue.  He didn't think this would be easy or anything, but he underestimated just how hard it would actually be.  He hasn't felt this fucking scared since he was a kid.  "His name is Star," he manages.

"You are bringing a friend with you?"

"Yeah," he says, hating himself.  Maybe if he strongly implies it, she'll get the memo and he won't have to deal with the actual conversation.  He avoids looking at Star, feeling horribly guilty.  "He doesn't have anyone to celebrate with, so we usually..."  He trails off, because half of what they usually do on Christmas involves stuff that he feels awkward mentioning to his mom.

"Well, then, of course he may come.  I look forward to meeting him."

"Cool," he manages, "Thanks, Mama.  We'll be there in a few days, okay?"

"Do you need to be picked up from the airport at a certain time?"

"No, we're fine.  We can get ourselves to the house.  Goodbye, Mama."

"Goodbye, Julio.  I love you."

"Goodbye," he repeats, then hangs up the phone.  He drops the phone in his lap, burying his face in his hands.  "Fuck.  Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Star asks softly, hand in between his shoulder blades.

"'Cause I was too chickenshit to tell her about us."

Star makes a noise in the back of his throat.  Low then high pitch.  A question.

"I'm not ashamed of you, of us.  I'm not that person anymore.  I just-"

"You were scared," Star says.

"She's my mom," he explains helplessly.

Star tugs him into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around him.  "I am not upset.  I know this is hard for you."

"Still, it's not fair to make you wait for me to get my shit together."

"I waited a long time.  Waiting again, by your side, is no great burden."

Julio laughs, chest twisting. "You can't just say shit like that, dude."

"Why not?  I mean it."

"Fuck," he exhales, pressing his face into Star's neck.  "I love you."

"I love you too," Star says.

The next day and a half are spent packing and canceling last minute on their usual plans.  He feels bad, telling Tabby he won't be around, but she just tells him to bring her back a souvenir to make it even.  He thinks about how happy his mom would be if he was bringing her with him instead of Star, then quickly shoves the thought away.  He's over trying to be something he's not.  His mom will just have to deal with it.  They teleport, because there's no point in paying for plane tickets when Star can get them there in no time at all.  He's gotten better at not immediately passing out after teleporting.  Plus, there's no way they'd get his swords through airport security, and Julio knows he doesn't like going into unfamiliar environments without them.

They take a cab down to his mom's house and the entire time Julio clings to Star's hand like a lifeline, knowing that once they get there he's either going to have to let go or explain plainly what they are to each other.  Either way, it's going to be tough.  He tells himself that he's brave enough to actually tell his mom about him and Star, instead of just letting their clasped hands speak for him.  He fights back the urge to shake Star off when his head dips onto his shoulder.  He doesn't care what anyone thinks, and he's strong enough to back that up.  He's not a scared kid anymore, and he's not going to make Star hide again.  He can do this.  He can.

He can't.  As soon as the cab pulls up to the house, he lets go of Star's hand in the guise of grabbing his wallet to pay the driver, shaking his boyfriend awake in the process.  He doesn't take Star's hand again, and he knows Star notices.  He resists the urge to compulsively apologize.  Not the time.  He can make it up to him later.  Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, he and Star grab their luggage and walk up to the front door.  It looks the same as he remembers.  The wreathe is different, but his mom did like to get fresh ones every year so that's not all that surprising.  The sun soaking into his back through his shirt is a familiar and welcome change from the icy cold of New York.  He did miss it.  There's a part of him that always misses it, no matter how far he runs.

The door opens, and it's not his mom.  He blinks.  Omar blinks back at him.  In all his anxiety, Julio kind of forgot that his mom mentioned that he'd gotten out of jail.  They stare at each other awkwardly.

"Hey, man," Julio says after a minute of silence.

"Hey," Omar looks wary, eyes flicking back at Star.  Julio resists the urge to step into his line of sight and shield Star.  It's not like his cousin is going to try anything on Christmas, and even if he did, Star could take him easily with both hands tied behind his back.  "Tia said you were coming."

"Yeah," Julio says.  "Is she here?"

Omar nods, still looking at Star.  "Didn't know you were bringing someone."

"He's my-" Julio swallows "-friend.  And he speaks Spanish."

"Hello," Star says, ever polite.

"Hey," Omar says, still eyeing Star, like he can't quite figure out what his deal is.  It's a familiar look, but it still makes Julio bristle.

"Can we come in?" he says, just on the edge of snappish.

Omar opens the door the rest of the way.  "Sure, man, be my guest."

Julio looks around the house, at the familiar decorations.  The poinsettias by the front door and the tinsel over the windows and the ornaments he made in elementary school on the tree.  The little wooden nativity set on the mantle that he used to play with as a kid, before his dad yelled at him that dolls were for girls.  He'd only ever liked playing with the animals, but that didn't matter to his dad.  It makes his chest hurt, all of a sudden.  He takes a steadying breath and turns away from it, wiping furtively at his eyes.  He can hear his mom puttering around the kitchen, and he can feel Star's solid presence at his back.

He's home.  For better or worse.

Chapter Text

Julio takes a steadying breath and walks into the kitchen.  His mom is at the sink, and he clears his throat, feeling awkward and wondering if he can still get away with running all the way back to New York.  Knowing he can't.

"Hey Mama," he says.

His mom turns around, eyes lighting up.  There's more gray in her hair and more lines around her eyes but she looks pretty much exactly like he remembers her otherwise.

"Julio!" she exclaims, drying her hands on her pants as she rushes over to him and gathers him up in a hug that makes him feel about ten years old.  "My son!  How are you?  Let me get a look at you."

She pulls back, hands on his arms, studying him.  Her face crumples a bit and he knows she's looking at the burn scars.  Her fingers brush over his cheek, and he looks up, blinking quickly so he doesn't start crying.  She frowns, but doesn't comment on it.  Doesn't ask him what happened.

"Julio, your hair looks so messy. It's too long.  Let me fix you up so you look nice for Christmas," she says instead, turning away.  He doesn't miss the way she wipes at her eyes.  "I just need to get my scissors..."

"Mama," he protests, something tightening in his chest, "I like my hair like this."

"You look messy," she insists.

"I like it," he repeats.  He's a goddamn adult.  If he can't even stand his ground with this, he's never going to survive Christmas.

She pats him on the arm.  "Well, if you change your mind-"

"I won't."

She looks at him, and for a moment she looks sad.  "How are you, Julio?"

He sticks his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward.  "I'm good, Mama."

"I saw that story on the news," she says, and he stiffens.  "About you, on the roof."

"I'm not gonna do that again," he tells her, feeling like the worst person in the world.

She sighs, wringing her hands.  "I wish you had called me, if you felt like that."

He wants to laugh in her face and tell her that that would've made things worse, but he doesn't, because that would be unimaginably cruel.  "Sure," he says instead, because he's trying hard not to pick a fight.

"The news anchor said that don't have your-" she frowns "-abilities anymore?  That that was why?"

"No, I got them back.  Someone fixed me."

"Hm," she says, and then she doesn't say anything else for a while.

He clears his throat.  "It's good to see you."

Her face softens.  "It is good to see you too, my son."

Something in the back of his throat aches.  "I brought my friend," he says, "You remember how I mentioned?"

"Yes, please, I would like to meet him," she says, following him out of the kitchen.

Time seems to stretch around Julio, maybe just because he's nervous.  She doesn't know what Star is to him, of course, but he thinks he'd still be nervous for her to meet anyone he knows, regardless of whether he was dating them or not.  But this is a special kind of nerve wracking and he hates it.  Hates how it makes him act, like he's eighteen and ten kinds of stupid for running away for the one person in the world who might miss him.  God, he was a dumb teenager.  He feels that acutely, seeing Star waiting in the living room with his "in a new environment" look, where he's trying to discretely observe his surroundings and make a plan for if someone attacks them.  It's a little sweet and a little sad.  Hands tucked behind his back, or tugging at the cuffs of his sweater when he's wearing one.  Little things that Julio can focus on to settle his anxiety.  Familiar things, things that kept him grounded when his powers couldn't.  Things that keep him grounded now, when he's nervous and back in a place that he never thought he'd come back to, much less willingly.  He wants to bury his face in Star's chest and hide forever.

Instead he smiles and says, "Mama, this is Star.  Star, this is my mom."

"Hello, Mrs. Richter," Star says.

"He speaks Spanish?" his mom asks him.

"Yes, Mama," Julio says.

"I am fluent," Star adds.  He's looking at Julio, checking his expression.

Trying to make sure he's doing this right, Julio realizes with a pang.

"Yeah, he learned when we were kids," he says, trying not to sound like he's bragging.  "He's real smart."

Star shrugs.  "These things are easy for me," he says nonchalantly, but he's smiling a little.  Just with his eyes, but Julio's an expert at reading him.  Had to be, to get where they are.

"I'm gonna show him around the house," Julio tells her, because he needs a minute to breathe and hold his boyfriend's hand without feeling like everyone is judging him.  "That okay?"

"Of course," she says, smiling at him.  "The guest room is made up for you, but Omar is in the other spare room.  There's a cot, if you and Star don't mind sharing."

"Yeah," he says, so relieved he's lightheaded, "I think we can make it work.  Thanks," he adds, before practically dragging Star upstairs.

Julio intends to keep going until he gets to the guest room, but he stops at his old bedroom.  He stares at it for a while, biting his lip, before turning to Star.

"Wanna see my old room?" he asks, trying to keep his tone light.

Star nods, and he looks a little overwhelmed too.  They can take a breather and then unpack and then... He's not sure.  He wants to take Star out, show him around.  There's usually a Christmas market, he might like that.  He shakes his head.  He's getting ahead of himself.  One step at a time.  He opens the door.  His childhood bedroom is pretty much the same way he left it, except now it looks like it's primarily been used for storage.  There's boxes piled in the corners and a couple pieces of unused furniture taking up the rest of the space.  It's really depressing, actually.  He sits down on his bed.  It creaks underneath him and he sighs, dust tickling his nose.  It's smaller than he remembers, or maybe he's older.  More tired, certainly, than he ever felt the last time he used this bed.

"C'mere," he says to Star, beckoning.

Star comes to him, because he's good like that.  He sits down next to him and the bed dips a little more, because it was made for a skinny little kid who got sick frequently and liked to read and-

Star laces their fingers together, cutting off his train of thought.  "Julio," he says, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he says, and it sounds like a lie even to his own ears.  "No.  Kinda?  I dunno, man.  It's a lot."

"I cannot understand how you are feeling, but I am sorry you are troubled," Star says.

"S'okay," Julio tells him, "I don't need you to understand.  There's a part of me that's glad you don't, 'cause I wouldn't wish this shit on anyone."

"Not even Cable?" Star asks, faux-innocent.

Julio nudges him, smiling despite himself.  "Nah, not even him."

"Ah, then it was very bad," and he can tell Star is trying to keep up the joke because Star knows better than anyone just how shitty it was.

"The worst," he sighs, leaning his head against Star's shoulder.

They stay like that for a while, until Julio decides that they've been here long enough.  It's starting to feel like the walls are closing in on him and it makes him claustrophobic.  He never minded tight spaces before Krakoa.  He takes a breath and stands up, still holding Star's hand.  He weighs whether or not to let go once they exit the room, but there's no on in the hallway and he's feeling clingy so he keeps holding on.  Star has no objections to this, which he rarely does.  The guest room is small, and true to her word there's a cot next to the bed.  There's a bathroom at the end of the hall, Julio remembers, and he kind of wishes they were home so he didn't have to feel like a kid sneaking around because he and Star shower together more often than they do apart.

"Am I going to sleep on the cot?" Star asks.

"What?" Julio looks over at him, "No, dude, of course you're not sleeping on that thing.  It's just because my mom doesn't know.  She's being helpful."

"Ah," Star says, "I was not sure because you did not correct her."

He swallows, throat tight, and tugs Star towards the bed.  "Sit down." He's trying to make up for earlier as he climbs into Star's lap.  "I know you're tired, baby.  Let me take care of you."

Star gets that big-eyed, almost spooked look on his face that he always gets when Julio does something he isn't expecting, a flush crawling up his neck.  Julio waits, because sometimes when Star's overwhelmed sex is something he can't handle, but Star closes the gap between them and yeah, okay, maybe Julio needed this too.  The reassurance that this isn't going to royally fuck up their relationship, which is one of the few good and true and constant things Julio's ever had.  After, Star kisses his cheek and nuzzles his face into his neck and they fake jet lag and just fall asleep together because it's easier that way.

The next day starts off pretty quiet.  It's Christmas Eve, and Julio remembers from when he was growing up that people typically start showing up to help out around 2:00 or 3:00, and he prepares himself for that as he stares into his coffee.

Star doesn't drink coffee, doesn't like it, but he likes hot cocoa and it's almost Christmas so Julio makes him some before he can think better of it.  It's easy, when they're both still half-asleep, to pretend they're at home and safe and everything is normal.  A piece of Star's hair has come loose from his braid and is hanging down and almost brushing the surface of his cocoa.  Julio reaches over and tucks it behind his ear, smiling at the way Star blinks sleepily at him.  He's halfway leaning in to kiss him when Omar shuffles into the kitchen and makes a beeline for the coffee pot.  Julio pulls back and does his best to ignore the flicker of something on Star's face.  Surprise, maybe, or hurt.  He hates himself for it.

"Morning, Hooly," Omar grunts, "Morning, Hooly's friend."

Star side eyes him.  It's too early for him to be in the mood for an extended conversation.

"Mornin'," Julio says.

A little bit later, his mom comes into the kitchen.  "Do you have any plans for this morning?" she asks him.

"Is there still that Christmas market like when I was a kid?" Julio asks her.  "'Cause I was thinking of taking Star to check that out."

"Yes," his mom says, "That sounds like fun.  Make sure you are back by the time everyone comes over."

"I know, Mama," he says, and it feels kind of awkward, but he figures that it's just how long it's been since he was last home.

"It's Christmas Eve, man, that place is gonna be so busy," Omar complains.

Julio shrugs.  "I didn't invite you."

"Yeah, well, obviously I'm going anyway," Omar insists.  "It's been years, man!  We need to catch up!"

Star gives Julio a pleading look that he interprets as Please don't let him come, he's loud and annoying.

He shrugs, not sure how to say no without making things awkward, especially because his mom looks so pleased that they're reconnecting.  "Okay, fine, whatever."

Omar slaps him on the shoulder, then whistles.  "When did you get so buff?"

"I work out," he deadpans.

Omar grins.  "Not a nerd anymore?"

"No, I'm still a huge nerd," Julio says.  "It's just easier to be a nerd if you can also punch people if they say shit."

"No swearing," his mom admonishes.

"Sorry, Mama," he says sheepishly.

"You are very good at punching people," Star agrees.

"So I heard," Omar says.  "You know some people are gonna be pissed at you, right?"

"And you're not still?"

"Nah," he says easily, "We were kids.  And you were right, as annoying as you are."

"Okay," Julio says, looking down at his coffee.

Omar gets up to go shower and his mom mentions something about needing to get groceries, and they're left alone.  Julio immediately scoots his chair next to Star's and kisses him apologetically.  Star hums, combing his fingers through his hair, and pulls back.

"I do not like your cousin," he pouts.  "I will tolerate him, but he is very loud."

"I know," Julio tells him.  "He'll grow on you, I promise.  He's just kind of annoying."

Star squints at him, like he doesn't quite believe him.  "Your mother is very nice, though," he continues.  "I can see why you are so attached to her still after so many years

"That's how moms tend to be," he tells him.

"I would not know," Star says softly.

Julio kisses his temple and gives him a quick squeeze before getting up to clear their food.  "So, how about the thing I mentioned?  That sound like fun?"

"Yes," Star says.  "I trust you to pick suitable activities due to your prior knowledge of this place and my preferences."

Julio smiles.  From Star, that's a ringing endorsement.  They finish cleaning up and then head upstairs to get ready for the day, passing a freshly-showered Omar on the stairs.  He barely even looks at them, which calms some of Julio's lingering anxiety.  Omar doesn't seem to think anything is weird about the two of them, other than Star, but most people think Star's weird so that's easier to shrug off.  Given that Omar is downstairs and his mom isn't home, Julio figures they're safe enough to shower together.  Plus, he feels like he's neglecting Star already and he misses just existing with him without a ball of anxiety in his stomach.  Granted, the anxiety isn't entirely gone, and he has visions of Omar deciding to use the upstairs bathroom to take a shit and walking in on them.  The idea is so deeply anxiety-inducing that he almost chickens out.

He doesn't, though, because he's not a complete coward.  And it's hard to say no once Star is naked and looking at him like that.  He busies himself with washing Star's hair and then giving him the best fucking blowjob he can.  He's got some shit to make up for.  They make out for a while under the water, until Julio really can't justify wasting anymore hot water, and then they dry off and head to the guest room as quickly as possible.  Mission successful, he resists the urge to drag Star into bed and stay there because he knows that tonight is going to be hard and he wants to hide away for as long as he can and just avoid it all.

He checks his phone instead.  There's a Merry Christmas text from Tabby and a couple of their other friends, but not much.  Star starts rummaging through his suitcase; everything is neatly folded, a stark contrast to Julio's method of throwing everything in a duffel bag and hoping for the best.  He grabs his one Christmas themed shirt and a flannel and throws it on with jeans and his normal boots.  He doesn't bother to style his hair because he knows he's gonna mess it up running his fingers through it anxiously, and he ends up sitting on the bed and watching Star braid his hair and get dressed once he's ready.  A lot of Star's nicer clothes are a mix between men's and women's stuff, because that's how he likes to dress and Julio's not about to complain because he looks good in whatever he wears.  Still, he'd told Star point-blank that his family definitely wouldn't take to well to him wearing his nice red skirt, no matter how much he fucking wishes they would.  It's one of a whole list of things that he hates himself for on this trip, no matter how much Star doesn't seem to mind.

"You look good," he tells Star, hooking his fingers through his belt loops and tugging him in for a kiss.

He's got on his green button up that makes his hair look really vibrant and black jeans and he really is the most beautiful person Julio's ever seen.  It's not that he forgets or anything, he knows damn well how lucky he is, but it just hits him extra hard sometimes that Star really could have anyone in the world and he chose him.  It's a little bit insane, because Julio wouldn't choose himself most days.  Then again, it's not his decision to make.

"I like your shirt," Star says.  "It is the one Tabitha got for you last Christmas, yes?"

"Yeah."

"You should take a picture of us and send it to her," Star suggests.

"Both of us?" he confirms, because it's hit or miss whether Star's okay with having his picture shared.

He's okay with Julio having pictures of him, but social media is a no-go and even sharing them with too many people over text makes him twitchy.  It's one of the things that he's slowly warming up to over time, and Julio doesn't want to push him right now.

"I trust Tabitha," Star says.  He kisses Julio's cheek, just catching the corner of his mouth.  "But thank you for asking my permission."

"'Course, dude."

Star takes the picture of them, because he's got longer arms and is freakishly good at photography.  He'll take random pictures of cats and pigeons and make them look like they belong in Nat Geo, meanwhile Julio takes like three tries to get a semi-decent picture of anything.  He lets Star send the photo to Tabby, and her message back has some thinly veiled concern about his mental health and a jab at his nonexistent photography skills.  He sends her back a picture of his middle finger because sometimes emojis just don't properly convey what you want to say, and promises to get her a souvenir.  Overall, it's a summary of their friendship.

The weather is warm enough that Julio ends up taking off his flannel ten minutes into walking around the market.   It's like he remembers, blurry as those memories may be, and it's a treat to see it through Star's eyes.  He's got an appreciation for showmanship and drama that's maybe not entirely healthy given his childhood but it doesn't seem to hurt him and shit like this makes him happy so Julio doesn't push.  Omar ends up deciding not to go, claiming he's going to take a nap.  Julio isn't sure if he picked up on the fact that Star doesn't really like him or if he figured out that he and Star are a couple but either way it's kind of a relief.  He likes Omar fine, but it's more relaxing not to have to think of explanations every time Star grabs his hand to drag him over to look at whatever's caught his eye.

"I would like to explore on my own for a little while," Star tells him after about and hour and a half of wandering.

"Sure," Julio tells him.  Hard as Star tries to be subtle, Julio knows Star wants to find a present for him, and he figures he can take the time to pick out something for Tabby and get something for Star, too.  "Meet up in like half an hour sound good?"

"Yes," Star agrees, and they split.

He finds something for Tabby pretty quickly.  It's a little brightly colored fish in a Santa hat magnet with a bunch of glittery scales that reminds him of her neon clothing from when they were kids.  Not that she's toned it down all that much, but it makes him smile and it's just weird and corny enough that she'll get a kick out of it.  It takes him a little bit longer to find something for Star, but he manages.  It's fucking cheesy as hell, but he finds a silver star ornament made of metal wire that reminds him of Star's swords.  It's kind of silly and maybe not all that special, but it's something they can put on the little mini tree they get for their apartment every year and that's something.  He realizes abruptly that he doesn't have a present for his mom.  He panics, because who the hell visits their mother for Christmas and doesn't get her a present.  People who want to be visited by those fucking muppets from the Christmas Carol, that's who.  He searches some stalls until he finds a pair of earrings that he thinks she'll probably like and gets those.  He's never been more grateful than when the seller asks if he wants it gift wrapped.  He meets back up with Star after that and they head back to the house.

His relatives have already started trickling in by the time they get back.  He gets some stares and some dirty looks, which he was expecting, but a few of his aunts and younger cousins greet him and Star nicely enough.  His mom is in the kitchen working on the last minute additions to dinner.  He offers to help, but gets shooed out sternly.  He kind of... freezes, then.  He's got Star, and that helps, but he feels overwhelmed and lost.  He can feel eyes on him from all sides and he almost grabs Star and asks him to take them home right then because he just can't handle this.  His mom and Omar are one thing; the rest of his extended family, half of which he beat up or got arrested, is another.

Star presses a can of coke into his hands, and the shock of cold jerks him out of his doom spiral.  Omar is sitting in the living room in one of the folding chairs his mom set up so everyone has a place to sit, and Julio heads over and plants himself on the couch.  He can do this.  He's not chickening out.

"You good?" Omar asks him, "You look like you're gonna throw up or something."

"Fine," he says, bouncing his leg rapidly.

"You want a beer?" Omar offers.

"I'm good."  He raises his coke as Star squishes next to him on the couch.  "Trying to drink less."

"Got it," Omar says, but he still looks concerned.  "Hooly-"

"Look who it is!"  His uncle Felipe, who he knows for a fact got his leg snapped in half by Star the last time they were in town, drops down into the chair next to Omar.  "Never thought you'd have the balls to come back here, Julio."

"My mom invited me," he says flatly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Star squint like he's trying to remember where he recognizes Felipe from, and he has to keep himself from laughing hysterically from sheer nervousness.

"Y'know," his uncle muses, "There were rumors about the two of you, back in the day."

"What sort of rumors?" Star asks, eyes going sharp.  "I was not aware of this."

Julio winces, because he'd hoped that it wouldn't come up.  He'd almost forgotten the way it must have looked, the two of them together and fighting his family.  The few times someone caught them off guard and they were acting a little too close.

"Star," he mutters, wishing he could yell 'pause!' and pull him aside before this goes to shit.

"Yeah," Felipe says, a mean grin on his face, "I'm surprised he didn't tell you how it looked.  I mean, to anyone with sense it seemed like the two of you-"

"Why does this matter?" Star interrupts him, all predator-intensity and danger.  "This was many years ago."

His uncle shifts uncomfortably, but doesn't back down.  "Well, obviously they were just that, because my nephew really would be a fool to come home if he was a-"

"How much have you had to drink?" Omar cuts in, eyes flicking to Julio's for a second.

Felipe laughs, sharp-edged.  "Not enough.  And look at you-" he turns back to Julio "-long hair and bringing that same man with you to Christmas.  Makes me wonder if maybe the rumors are true.  But like I said, you would have to be a fool to come back home, then.  You remember what happened to Martinez."

Julio does his best not to react.  He does remember hearing about Martinez; he remembers asking where he'd gone and no one telling him anything about it for a while, when he was already scared of what he was feeling.  It's something he tries his best not to think about.  There's something scarier about that than the way people treated him for being a mutant.  At least there was some logic to that.  At least being a mutant made him dangerous enough not to mess with.

Star stares at Felipe blankly, before it dawns on him.  "You are threatening us," he says, like the idea hadn't even occurred to him.  "That is a very bad idea," he says frankly, "And I do not think it is polite given that it is Christmas and you are Julio's family."

Felipe laughs, but there's a nervous undertone to it.  "Don't take it all so seriously.  I'm just shooting the shit.  Like you said, it's all in the past now.  Right, nephew?"

"Sure," Julio says, and he hates that he's still a little bit afraid of this asshole, despite the fact that he could open up the ground and have it swallow his uncle whole without breaking a sweat.

Omar coughs, breaking the tension, and Felipe excuses himself to get another drink.  Star watches him go with narrowed eyes, tracking his movements with an intensity he usually reserves for when he's in the middle of a fight.

"Jesus," Julio mutters, sagging against the couch.

"I do not like him," Star says, an implicit threat in his voice.

"No one likes him much," Omar says, "He's an ass."

Star looks at Omar consideringly, like he's revising his opinion of Julio's cousin.  "That is understandable."

"Every family has that one guy that doesn't know when to shut the fuck up," Omar continues, "We just happen to have more than one."

Julio laughs a little, surprising himself.  "I'll drink to that."

Star leans against him and whispers in Cadre, "Are you okay?"

"I'll live," Julio tells him, "It's not the first time I've heard that story, and they've said a lot worse to me."

Star makes a growling noise low in his throat at that.  "I dislike the majority of your family."

"I know, trust me, Omar and my mom are pretty much the only people I can stand."

"Hey," Omar says, "Don't talk shit about me in Russian."

"It is not Russian," Star says, switching back to Spanish.

"Sounds like Russian," Omar says lightly.  "And you kinda have an accent."

"Hm," Star says, cocking his head.  "Julio, do I sound Russian?"

He shrugs.  "Eh, maybe a little?  Definitely not as much as Illyana."

"Her accent is very thick," Star agrees.

"You guys've known each other for a while, huh?" Omar observes, watching them with a bemused expression.

"Over ten years," Star tells him.

"Long time," Omar says.

"Doesn't feel like that long," Julio says.  "Star kinda just... sneaks up on you."

Star looks ridiculously pleased at that, the kind of pleased that even other people can pick up on.  Omar laughs a little, but it doesn't sound cruel so Julio lets himself relax a bit.  He wasn't lying, Omar is pretty much the only person other than his mom that he can stand.  It's not that long after that before the pozole and tamales are done and everyone starts piling into the kitchen to get their food.  It's crowded and warm and the food tastes exactly like he remembers and he has to give himself a minute to breathe because his chest feels tight.  Despite everything, he really fucking missed this.  They go find a place to sit that's out of the way enough that Star will actually eat something, and he watches Star's expression as he eats.  He's had Julio's cooking before, but this is different.  The holiday, and the person making the food, gives it more weight.

"Good?" he asks, because Star's eyes do a thing when he really likes something and they're doing it now.

"Very much," Star says through a mouthful of pozole.

Julio grins at him.  "M'glad."

They finish eating and then Star starts to get squirmy in a way that means he needs a minute to himself to decompress, so Julio just bumps their shoulders and tells him he'll meet him upstairs in a bit and goes to help his mom clean up.  She's in the kitchen, a few of his aunts herding the last of his younger cousins and neices and nephews out, and he grabs a couple abandoned plates and heads to the sink.

"You don't need to help," his mom protests.

"I want to," he tells her, handing her the plates.  "I'll dry, like before?"

He used to help her in the kitchen, when he was a kid.  It's how he learned to cook.  It's one of the few things he learned from his family that isn't tainted with blood.  For a while, they work in silence.  Then his mom looks at him with a fond smile on her face.

"Your father would be proud of you," she says.

Julio freezes, hands clenching around the plate he's drying.  He wants to laugh.  Of all the things he thought she'd say to him over the course of this visit, that isn't one of them.  "I don't think he would be," he tells her.  "I don't think I'm the son he wanted at all."

"Oh, Julio," she says, "He would have loved you anyways.  Someday, you'll find a nice girl and have your own children and you will understand that."

He swallows, mouth dry.  "Mama," he says quietly, "That's not happening."  His hands are still for once, and he feels strangely calm.  Almost detached, like he's watching this happen from outside of his body.

"Don't worry," she says, patting his arm, "You're a wonderful young man.  Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"Yeah," he manages, "Sure."  He swallows.  "And what if I already have someone?"

"You told me you don't."

"I told you I don't have a girlfriend."  He puts down the plate and takes a deep breath.  "I, uh, Star.  I have Star.  We're dating.  I'm gay."

It sounds so small when he puts it like that.  Star is so much more than just his boyfriend.  He's his partner, one of his best friends, he's-  He's kind of everything and Julio doesn't know how to put that into words.  So, dating will have to do for now, even if it feels too juvenile to properly describe how important Star is to him.  Star had called Julio the 'other half of his soul' once and that feels the closest, but he can't get the words out right now.

"I don't understand," his mom says.  "You're already a mutant.  Why would you choose something that would make your life more dangerous?"

His chest feels like it's filled with cotton.  "It's not a choice, Mama.  It's just how I am."  He flexes his fingers, feeling the tremors starting to work their way up his arms.  "I just- It's not something I can change."

"If you just tried, I'm sure-"

"I did try!" he snaps, hands truly shaking, "I tried so hard to be normal for years and all it got me was miserable!"

"I just don't want you to get hurt," she says, her mouth pressing into a harsh line.

He laughs, bitter, and crosses his arms.  "Yeah, well, letting Dad take me with him to sell guns is a great way to keep your kid safe, Ma."

"Julio," she says, "I thought we had settled this.  I thought we had reached an understanding about these things."

He scoffs.  "No, I gave up because none of you would listen to me.  There's a difference.  Dad was a bad person and a bad father and I know he would hate the person I am now.  I thought you might be different."  He swallows the lump in his throat, eyes stinging.  "Guess I was wrong."

"Your father loved you very much," she snaps.  "I don't understand this hatred you have in your heart for him.  He loved us very much and was trying to provide for us."

"He could've done that without selling guns," Julio tells her.  "He could've gotten a normal job that didn't involve his ten year old son spending a night in jail and having a gun pointed at his head."

"He wanted you to be strong, Julio."

"I was a kid!" Julio shouts.  "I was a fucking child!"

"Julio," she snaps, "Please don't swear."

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.  "God, why do none of you get it?  Dad was wrong."

"He did his best," she says, voice gone tired.

He laughs, razor's edge in his throat.  It tastes like copper.  "Yeah, sure.  I loved reading as a kid, y'know, and he told me to stop because it wasn't manly.  He heaped all these fucking expectations of what being a man was on me and it almost killed me!  And you wanna know what saved me?  'Cause it sure as shit weren't Dad.  It was Star, the man I love.  So, yeah, even if being gay was a choice I'd still choose him."  He inhales deeply, feeling like he's breathing through broken glass.  "And if you can't accept that, then I guess I was right not to call."

She just looks at him sadly, like he's breaking her heart just by existing.  He walks out of the kitchen, and she doesn't try to stop him.

Chapter Text

Once Julio gets to the stairs, the anger starts to drain away and is replaced by something in his chest cracking wide open.  His throat hurts like it always does when he's trying hard not to cry.  It hurts, more than he expected it to.  He knew that she wouldn't welcome him being gay with open arms, but it still stings.  It's the rejection he's been waiting for this entire trip, he realizes, but that doesn't stop it from hurting.  He climbs the stairs, numb, and then as soon as he gets to the guest room and sees Star, something inside him crumples.

Star brightens when he sees him.  "Oh, Julio, I-" he pauses, brow furrowing, "What is the matter?"

Julio takes a deep breath, trying not to sob.  He sits down on the bed, fists clenched so hard he feels the bones in his hands creak.  He takes another breath.  "Came out to my mom," he says, strained.  He blinks rapidly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Oh," Star says, sitting down next to him.  "It did not go well," he guesses

He shakes his head miserably.  He unclenches his fists and smooths his hands over his thighs.  "No.  It went really fucking shitty."  His voice sounds alien, small and thick with emotion.

Star wraps an arm around him, squeezing him gently to his side.  "I am sorry that it went 'shitty'," he says.

Julio exhales, tucking his face into the crook of Star's neck.  "It's fine.  Not like I wasn't expecting it."

"But it still hurts," Star guesses.

He nods, sniffling and feeling kind of pathetic.  "I thought-"

A sob bubbles up in his throat, and it catches him off guard.  It chokes him and suddenly he can't get any air in his lungs.  He pulls away from Star, trying to breathe right.  He presses a fist against his mouth and bites down, shaking.  The drawers rattle, and he can feel the bed shaking under them.  He twists his fists in the quilt and tries to get himself back under control because this is pathetic.  He's almost thirty years old, he can't be crying about his mom not loving him like a little kid.  It wasn't cute when he was a teenager and it isn't cute now.  He's being a burden.  He should just off himself, it would make everything easier.  He's a fucking pathetic person and it would be better if-

"Come here," Star says, tugging him more fully into his arms.  "Julio, you are not a burden.  I am glad you are alive.  I love you," he says, a hitch in his voice, "I love you."

"Sorry," he babbles, "Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry.  Didn't mean to say it."

Fucking pathetic.  

He buries his face in Star's chest and his arms are tight around him, bracing him like an anchor.  Star called him his anchor, but it's a two way street.  Star's the only thing keeping him from spinning out right now.  Star, who is rocking him back and forth and humming tonelessly and just being here when he needs him most.  He sobs and sobs until Star's shirt is soaked with tears and snot, wailing like a kid, and Star holds him through it.  It's far from the first time he's broken down like this on him, but it's been a while since it was this intense.  His family brings it out in him, always has.  It's one of the few things they can be relied upon for.  Star holds him as he sobs, until his breathing is less punching out of him and more a car stopping and starting.  It's not painful anymore, or at least, not as painful.

He presses his forehead against Star's shoulder, taking a shaky breath.  "Sorry," he says again, feeling like a broken record.

Star's hand cups his jaw and lifts his head so they're sharing a rare moment of eye contact.  He brushes a thumb over Julio's cheek.  "Do you want to go home?  Because if that is what you want, I will take you home right now and we can have Christmas just the two of us."

Julio sniffles.  "Dunno.  Maybe?  Do you wanna leave?"

Star presses his lips together, looking conflicted.  "I am... concerned.  You have not done that in some time."

"Didn't mean it," he tells him.  "I'm not gonna actually, y'know, hurt myself over this."

"Hm," Star says, looking at him hard.  It's his don't bullshit me look.

"I'm not!" he promises,  "I'm not, okay?  I just-"  He takes a deep breath.  "I just don't wanna think about anythin' for a while."

Star presses a firm kiss to his temple.  "What do you need from me?"

He takes a shaky breath.  "Kiss me?"

Star kisses him, deep and soft and comforting, hands running up and down his sides soothingly.  A bubble expands in Julio's chest, almost painful in intensity, but it's not a bad emotion.  A little frantic, he presses against Star and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until he's really only thinking about Star and not his mom, not his uncles, not his dad or any of the other multitude of things that make him want to sink through the floor and disappear.  He keeps kissing him until he's not thinking about anything for a while after that.  Just Star, and the heat of his mouth and skin and the look in his eyes that never fails to make Julio choke up, even after all these years.  He pulls back, breathing hard, because he's still hyper aware of everything going on downstairs and sex just isn't what he needs right now.  He just wants to be held and have Star tell him it's all going to be alright, as childish and stupid as that makes him feel.  Star seems to understand that, because he always just gets it.  He wraps his arms around Julio, adjusting so that his head is tucked under Star's chin and he can press his face to his chest.  Secretly, it's his favorite place to hide from everything.

"I don't wanna leave," he decides.

He feels Star still.  "Are you sure?"

He nods.  "I wanna have a full Christmas here with you at least once.  M'not gonna chicken out at the last minute."

Star hums, the vibration spreading through his chest and anchoring Julio through his powers.  He can picture the way Star's brow is furrowed, like he's working through a puzzle.  "It is not 'chickening out' to leave a harmful situation.  You have told me this before."

Julio has, and he's briefly annoyed at being called out on it.  "Yeah, well, I wanna stay.  I do miss a lot of things, and going to Mass... I dunno.  It's not like I believe in God anymore or anything, but it's still comforting.  Familiar, I guess." 

Star nods.  "I understand."

It feels a little sacrilegious, to talk about going to Church right after making out with his boyfriend, but he wants Star to experience this.  It's still his, for all the good and the bad. 

He yawns, suddenly exhausted.  "We should take a nap, okay?  I need it."

Star hums in agreement, arms tightening around him, and it doesn't take Julio long to drift off.  He's not sure how long they're asleep for, just that he's woken up by a knock on the bedroom door.  He jerks awake, out of some dream that he can't quite remember but that leaves a sticky feeling in his chest all the same.  He looks down at Star, who's also woken up.  He doesn't sleep well when they aren't home, Julio knows, and it makes him feel guilty for bringing them here.

"Yo!" Omar yells from the other side of the door, "Hooly!  Tia wants to know if you're coming to Mass."

"We're coming, yeah," he tells Omar, then winces.

"'We', huh," Omar says teasingly.  "You got a hot chick hiding in the guest room with you?"

"Fuck off," Julio tells him.

"Hey, I'm just messin' with you.  Tell your weird friend tia said he can come too."

"Yeah," Julio says, a little bit of bite in his voice, "I'll tell Star."

"Alright," Omar says, and then Julio can hear the sound of footsteps retreating.

He sighs, flopping back down on the bed.  Star is looking at him expectantly.  "What?" Julio asks him.

"You did not correct him, when he called me your friend," Star says, not accusing but also sounding a little sad.

"Sorry," Julio says, suddenly exhausted again.  "I'll tell him.  Honestly, he's probably figured it out already.  That, or my mom told him and he's being an asshole about it."  He feels like he's a teenager again, scared shitless and making excuses for why no one can know about them.  It was a shitty thing to do then and a shittier thing to do now.  "I'll tell him."

"You do not have to," Star says.

"It's makin' you sad," Julio counters.  "I know it does."

"Yes, but only because I do not like how afraid and upset this makes you," Star tells him gently.  "I know you love me.  You have told me many times."

"Loving someone doesn't mean you can't hurt them," Julio mutters, burying his face in Star's neck.

Star hums, but doesn't disagree with him.

They lay in bed together for a while, just holding onto each other, and it helps settle something in his chest.  He feels kind of detached from everything that's happened, and he knows it'll probably come back to bit him in the ass at some point, but for now he's going to go with this feeling.  It's not the healthiest thing in the world, but it works for right now.  He drifts in and out of sleep for the next hour or so, and at one point he feels Star get up.  He opens his eyes and sees him changing his shirt, but Star just makes a soothing noise and cards gentle fingers through his hair.  He closes his eyes, and drifts off again.

His phone alarm goes off at eleven-thirty, giving him time to fix himself up and emotionally prepare himself for this.  He knows that if it gets to be too much, Star will take them home.  It's nice to have a safety net.

"Oh, wait," he says.  "Star, I need to give you something."

Star hooks his chin over his shoulder.  "Yes?" he says eagerly.  It's one of the things Julio figured out early on; Star likes presents, giving and receiving.

He smiles, grabbing the ornament from where he hid it in his bag, his ears burning for no good reason.  He's not embarrassed, exactly, but something vulnerable squirms in his stomach.  "It, uh, reminded me of you.  The metal is kinda like your swords and-"

Star hugs him, tight.  "It is very beautiful," he says, "Thank you."  He straightens up.  "I also got you a gift," he says, excitement palpable.

Julio smiles, feeling impossibly fond.  "Yeah?"

Star nods.  "Yes, let me get it now."

Julio leans back against the wall, watching Star practically bounce across the room and rummage through one of the drawers.  Smart hiding place, because Julio didn't bother unpacking his bag.  It's not like they were staying very long.  Star hands him a little box.  He opens it.  It's a leather bracelet with little bits of malachite studded into it.  It's not something he would've ever picked out for himself for a variety of reasons, but it's pretty fucking cool and it's honestly one of the most thoughtful gifts he's ever received.  His throat tightens, a little choked up.

He looks at Star, who's watching his face attentively.  He smiles, a little cracked at the edges but real.  "Thanks, man, this is-" he sniffles, caught off guard by his own emotions "-great.  It's great.  I love it."

Star beams, bright and full of teeth.  "I am glad.  Tabitha showed me a picture of you when you both were younger, and you both wore jewelry.  I thought it would look nice on you."

"I like it," he says, "Dude, it's so cool, thank you."  He kisses Star, close-mouthed and firm, and pulls away with a sigh.  "Everyone's gonna be leaving for mass, soon.  We should head downstairs."

He puts on the bracelet, even if it doesn't really go with the rest of what he's wearing.  What he really wants is to hold Star's hand the entire time, but he's still too raw from his mom's rejection to handle anyone else's reaction.  The bracelet feels like a way of apologizing.  It says to Star that he's not entirely a coward.  At least, he hopes it does.

Mass is pretty much exactly as he remembers it.  The stained glass windows look like obsidian at night, the candles flickering and casting strange shapes and long shadows against the windows.  It feels a little like walking into a cavern and sinking into the earth.  It's comforting in a nostalgic way, even if he doesn't believe anymore.  There's too much baggage for him to feel that kind of devotion to any higher power.  He's met enough so-called gods to call bullshit, at least for himself personally, but there's a grounding sense that comes from his childhood.  He and Star sit next to each other on the pew and he rests his hand over Star's and pays more attention to the look on Star's face than what the priest is saying.  He has to quietly explain communion to Star, and the look on the priest's face when he does a blessing is really funny.  There aren't many people anywhere who look like Star, and that especially goes for Guadalajara.

After Mass, they go back to the house.  His mom makes coffee and everyone has some of the left over desserts while the kids open gifts.  No one got him anything, but that's about what he expected.  Star's tired, he can tell, and his level of social awareness has dropped to pretty much nothing.  If they were at home, it wouldn't matter that he's leaning bodily against Julio like he's about to fall asleep, but here it's not normal and he can tell people are staring.  He tamps the embarrassment and anxiety down because fuck anyone who says something.  His mom was the only person whose opinion held any weight, and she told him point blank what she thinks about them.

He runs out of coffee and yawns wide enough that his jaw cracks.  Star straightens up a bit, and murmurs that he'll go get them more coffee before wandering off towards the kitchen.  Julio nods, squeezing his arm just a bit, a silent I love you.

One of his cousins, one that must've been a toddler the last time he was home but is now maybe thirteen or fourteen, is staring at him with wide eyes.  He stares back, challenging.  He's too tired to deal with any choice comments.  The kid flushes, averting their eyes, and it dawns on him that he recognizes that look.  It's the 'I'm closeted and just saw a queer adult' look that queer teenagers have worn since the dawn of time.  Hell, he's pretty sure he wore that look once or twice while out clubbing.  Huh.  He's not sure how to start this conversation.

Turns out, he doesn't have to.  The kid floats over to him, tugging at the sleeves of their dress with an energy of discomfort that Julio can clock a mile away.  They sit next to him, knees tucked under them in a way that reminds him of Star.  He glances out of the corner of his eye to where Star disappeared to get another drink.

"Hi," they say, tucking their hair behind their ear and looking at him out of the corner of their eye.

"Hey," he says.

"I-" they say.  "Everyone says you two are, y'know-" they shrug, glancing around nervously.

"Yeah," Julio confirms, "Star and I are together."

They look at him.  "That's cool," they say, kind of squeaky.  "I- I-" they swallow, and Julio kind of wants to tell them to chill the fuck out.  "I'm a boy," he settles on.  "Or I want to be.  Don't tell my mom.  Please."

Julio's not even sure which of his relatives this kid is related to him through, but even if he did that wouldn't matter.  "Okay," he says.

His head bobs, eyes still wide and shy.  "I still like boys."

"Okay," Julio says.  "That's cool."  He really has no fucking clue how to talk to teenagers, especially not ones that look at him with something akin to awe.  "You can do whatever you want, kid.  You got a name you wanna be called?"

He shrugs.  "Not sure yet."

"You'll figure it out."  Julio awkwardly pats him on the shoulder.  "It just takes time."

He looks up at Julio with those big awestruck eyes, ringed with too much mascara, face framed with hair that Julio figures is cut as short as his mom will let him.  It's like looking in a fun house mirror.  Not his experience, but close enough.  The same sort of fear wrapped in a layer of fake self-expression because you feel like you've got to be what they want or they'll kill you.  You'll figure it out feels like pyrite in comparison, but it's all Julio has to offer right now.  Someone calls for the kid, a name that Julio does his best to forget because it makes the kid flinch a little, and his cousin or nephew or whatever is sliding off into the crowd of relatives.  Julio watches him go, something caught in his throat.

He fidgets, realizing that it's been a while since Star left to go get more drinks.  Maybe he got stuck in conversation with one of his relatives, who knows.  He gets up and heads to the kitchen.  He stops in the doorway, and it takes a minute for him to process what he's seeing.  His mom has Star sitting with her at the table, a photo album open in front of them.  Star looks up at him and smiles, a blinding grin.  Julio smiles back at him because he can't help it, even with the discomfort of having his mom right here when they've been arguing.  It's hard not to smile at Star, especially right now when he's wearing one of his ridiculous Christmas sweaters and his hair is loose with little braids at the temple and he looks like home in a way that Julio can never quite articulate.

"Hey," he says, shifting awkwardly.  "Was wondering where you went."

"I apologize," Star says.

"You're fine," he says shortly.  Then, "Sorry.  You get your drink?"

Star holds up his water.  "Yes.  And I have yours."  He holds out a cup of coffee.

Julio takes it and takes a long sip.  Tries to quell the awkwardness and nerves rattling through his body.  "Thanks."

Star is studying him with those eyes of his that seem to see right through Julio after so many years together.  "Your mother offered to show me pictures of you as a baby," he says carefully.  "You were a very cute baby."

"He was!" his mom agrees, a tad desperate sounding.

Julio wonders distantly if he should be embarrassed by this.  He's still running on the fucking heart attack of the two of them in a room together, and the shock of his mom acting pleasant.  He shouldn't be.  She's always been good at placating people.

"Julio," his mom says, soft.  "I want to talk with you."

"We talked already," he snaps, defensive and skittish, "You made your opinions pretty fucking clear."

She doesn't scold him for swearing, just sighs heavily.  "I apologize for hurting you.  That was not my intention."

He gapes at her, because she's never really apologized for any of it.  "Okay," he settles on, "But you did."  It's a childish response, and his voice sounds childish to match.  He looks over at Star, who's watching him, a little worried and a little sad.

Sighing heavily, Julio sits down next to Star.  Decides fuck it and grabs his hand, holding it on top of the table where his mom can see.  A clear challenge, or it would be if his other hand wasn't a white-knuckled, shaking fist pressed against his thigh.  His mom looks at their clasped hands, and her face flickers and he feels morbidly triumphant.  It proves his point, but it hurts.  It's always going to hurt.  That's why he hid for so long, why he keeps hiding.  Because it hurts, no matter how old he gets, no matter how far he runs.  He waits for her to break, to yell or express disappointment or any other negative reaction that proves all his fears correct.

Instead she looks him in the eye and asks, "Are you happy?"

He blinks, flinching back a little on instinct, and Star squeezes his hand.  "What?"

"Does this make you happy?" she asks again.  Patient, like she used to be when he was a little kid and needed something explained to him.

He swallows, throat tight.  "Yeah," he says.  "I wasn't always but yeah, I'm happy."  He squeezes Star's hand.  "He makes me happy."

Star squeezes his hand back and bumps their shoulders together, solid and companionable.  He's like a cat.

His mom smiles, looking a little sad.  "I don't understand why you chose this, but if it makes you happy then that is what matters."

It's not perfect, and he still feels kind of hollow, but it's more than he ever expected.  "Thanks," he manages.  He probably just needs a good night's sleep in his own bed to actually process everything.

There's a minute or so of tense silence, like they're all waiting to see who breaks first.  Then, "I got you a gift," his mom says, clearing her throat.

She gets up and returns a minute later with a small package; he can tell she wrapped it herself because the corners are messy.  She could never quite keep them straight.  He opens it, and has to stop himself from laughing.  The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  It would be funny if it weren't so surprisingly thoughtful.  It catches him off guard a little, that she knew him well enough to pick this out.  He's read it, of course.  Hank took him to the New York Public Library back when X-Factor first picked him up.  He liked reading as a kid.  Still does, when he can find the time.  Narnia was one of the first series he read in America and it's... nostalgic.  In a deeply painful way, because everything from that period in his life is polluted with pain and trauma, like those places you can't build houses on because there's poison in the ground that gives anyone who lives there cancer.

Julio looks up at his mom, taking a steadying breath.  "Thanks.  Shit, uh, this is really thoughtful."

"I am your mother," she says, "I know you."  She pauses, then adds, "I also asked your cousin for suggestions."

He blinks, a little surprised.  "Omar?"

She nods.  "I did not want to... mess up with this.  And you two were always so close as children."

"Huh," he says.  "Okay.  Well, I'll thank him."

"I think he is outside," his mom says, a small smile on her face.

"You good if I leave you here?" he asks Star.

"Yes," Star says.  "I would like to keep looking at pictures of you as a child."

He laughs softly and presses a quick kiss to Star's cheek before he can talk himself out of it.  "Okay, dude.  I'll come find you in a bit."

Star smiles, and then turns his full concentration back to the photo album, a little furrow between his brows.  His mom also leans in, speaking quietly to Star, and something in Julio's chest settles a bit, like tectonic plates clicking into place.  He heads out back, and his mom was right; Omar's sitting on the back steps with a cup of coffee, watching the early morning sky.  It's chilly, in a way that means it's going to be warm later.  It reminds him of Camp Verde, the early days when he had no idea how much Star would mean to him.  Even then, the signs had been there.  He'd just been determined not to look at them.  

"Hey," Julio says, sitting down next to Omar.  He holds up the book.  "Thanks for this."

"Eh, you were always a little nerd," Omar says with a grin.

"Yeah," Julio chuckles.  "Yeah, I was.  I'm also-" he pauses, rubbing his thumb over the spine of the book "-I'm also gay."

It's surprisingly easy to say, all things considered.  He wonders why he was so scared.  He knows exactly why, but it doesn't make him feel any less like an idiot for being a nervous wreck the entire trip. 

Omar blinks, cup halfway to his mouth.  "Okay," he says.  He jerks his head at the door.  "So how'd you pull a guy like that?"

He chokes, not expecting that, and then punches Omar in the arm.  "Fuck you," he laughs.

"No, seriously, how?"

Julio grins, crookedly.  "Would you believe me if I said time travel?"

Omar laughs.  

Julio raises an eyebrow at him.  

"Holy shit," he says wonderously, "Your life is fucking weird."

"Yeah," Julio says, "But it got me him, so it's worth it."

And it is, he thinks, it is worth it.  Even this, hard as it's been, has been worth it just for things like the book in his hand and Star looking at his baby pictures with his mom and the fact that he's home and not feeling like his heart is being dug out with a rusty spoon.

The back door opens and he glances behind him and sees Star walk out and then his boyfriend is sitting behind him, legs bracketing his sides and face buried in his hair.

"Hey, dude," he says fondly.  "You done?"

Star nods, nuzzling at his hair.

"He okay?" Omar asks.

"Yeah," Julio says, "He just gets like this after a long day.  I just need to take him to bed and he'll be fine."

It feels weird, being able to talk openly to his cousin like this about Star and him.

Omar chuckles.  "Then you better do that.  When do you leave?"

He shrugs.  "Dunno.  Tomorrow, probably.  Day after, at the latest."

"Gimme your phone," Omar says, holding out his hand.

Julio looks at him strangely but hands it over.  Omar holds it out for him to open and then types something in before handing it back.  It's a new contact.  His number, Julio realizes with a pang.

"Go take care of your man," Omar tells him, "And stay in touch, Hooly."

"Yeah," he says thickly, "Yeah, okay.  C'mon, Star, let's go to bed."

Star stands up and as soon as Julio's on his feet he's leaning back against him.  He hums softly, swaying as Julio walks them back inside.  His mom looks at them as they cut through the kitchen and smiles.  It's a little forced, but she's trying, and maybe that can be enough for now.  Maybe he can let it be enough, with Star half asleep against him and trusting him completely and his mom smiling at him and Omar joking with him and he can let himself just fucking exist for five minutes without freaking out.  He gets to the stairs and the noise of the the rest of his family ratchets up a notch and Star hums, in a little higher pitch that means he's really hit his limit for any and all stimulation.  Julio rubs a thumb over his hip, trying to soothe him, and Star huffs quietly.

"I know, sweetheart," he says in English.  Baby steps, he tells himself.  "Sorry, I wasn't thinking about how late it is."

Star nods, knocking their heads together with a little too much force.  It's okay, though.  Julio's got a thick skull.  He turns his head just enough to brush his lips against Star's jaw.  Small and private, just for the two of them.  Felipe catches his eye and his face screws up in disgust.  Instead of pulling away, Julio just stares back at him and very subtly flips him off as he bustles Star up the stairs.  He fumbles with the handle as he open the guest room and then pushes the door shut with his hip.  Flips the lock for good measure, because he knows his family and he knows what they might do to him, Christmas or not.  It's an old fear that still has some root in the truth.  But he's not beholden to that fear either.  He can take precautions without it consuming him.  It's a fucking Christmas miracle.

Star is already mechanically stripping out of his clothes in a way that tells Julio he really has hit his limit for sensory input of any kind.  Julio comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder.  Feels a ripple of pride at the way the tension drains out of Star's shoulders and he goes limp against his chest.  He turns his head and rests his head on Julio's hair.  The positioning is a little awkward, but it soothes something in Julio's soul, and he knows it does the same for Star.

"Thanks," he says, rubbing his thumb against Star's naked hip.

"Of course," Star says.  "Merry Christmas, Julio."

He presses another kiss to Star's shoulder.  "Merry Christmas."