Work Text:
Maxim leaned back against the far wall of the coffeehouse, idly swirling the glass in his hand as he watched the crowd of laughing and smiling partygoers. He wasn’t used to parties, especially not Christmas parties – for years now, the wildest social gatherings he’d attended had been stuffy professorial seminars or meetings with some committee or other about not much in particular. All the faces, the voices, the energy in the room was a little overwhelming, but Maxim had resolved to push through it. When Veerle’s friend Finbar had sent out invitations for his annual Christmas party, he’d gone out of his way to invite Maxim by name, and he didn’t intend to insult his host’s hospitality by leaving the party too early.
He raised his glass and downed the last of his brandy. He had to admit, Finbar had spared no expense when it came to refreshments. His roast turkey and mincemeat pie were outstanding – no surprise, given the man’s culinary expertise – and the liquor served was plentiful, high quality, and free of charge. Maxim didn’t normally partake in alcohol, but given the festive environment, he’d let himself indulge in a few drinks. Not enough to dampen his judgement, but enough to dull his fellow guests’ chatter and laughter and shrill attempts at singing into a comfortable buzz.
Maxim stifled a yawn, then pulled his watch from his pocket to check the time. 11:48 PM. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t stay past midnight, and he’d somehow convinced Veerle to promise the same. He wasn’t going to force himself to socialize longer than he had to, and he wasn’t about to leave the detective unsupervised around an open bar – not after last time . Pushing off from his place against the wall, he returned his empty glass to the bar, then scanned through the crowd in search of his friend.
He finally caught sight of him through one of the shop’s windows. Veerle was standing just outside, chatting with Dani, Finbar, and his wife Elyse. They made for an odd group. Finbar and Elyse were casually dressed but well put together, an absolute model host and hostess. Finbar had given Elyse his jacket and kept a careful arm around her waist, though neither was quite enough to fully shield her rounded belly. Standing next to Elyse was Dani, her absolute polar opposite. Maxim had never seen Dani in anything other than men’s slacks and a grubby old overcoat, and tonight was no exception. But this time she’d thrown a tie around her neck, hanging loose and unknotted from beneath her collar – her idea of “formal,” perhaps – and held the last smoldering remains of a cigarette, with a few more crumbled into ash beneath her foot.
As for Veerle…
Perhaps it was the alcohol clouding his mind, but Maxim found that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the detective. The rosy flush spread across his cheeks, the result of both the cold and of a bit too much alcohol, seemed to glow in the warm light of the streetlamps overhead. A few errant snowflakes, the last of a passing flurry, caught in the dark tangles of his hair. That ridiculous scarf of his, royal blue and longer than any Maxim had ever seen before, was coiled around his neck, the ends nearly still long enough to brush the ground. And he had Maxim’s coat draped over his shoulders – he’d stubbornly refused to go back for his own coat when he’d left the house without it, but maybe halfway to the coffeehouse he’d looked so cold and miserable that Maxim had given up his own to keep him from developing frostbite. He was almost being swallowed by the garment, not suited for someone with such a willowy frame, but he seemed perfectly happy burrowing into its dark wool to shield himself from the wind.
Maxim shook himself out of his daze, silently hoping the other partygoers were too drunk to have noticed his staring. He straightened his tie, cleared his throat for good measure, then stepped out into the cold.
“–suggested the name Adelaide for a girl, but obviously we can’t go with that…” Finbar trailed off as the doors to the shop opened, then broke into a smile when he recognized Maxim heading toward them. “Well howdy Maxim! Good to see you. I hope you’re enjoying the party.”
Maxim gave a slight nod as he came to stand at the edge of their little group, his hands shoved in his pockets to stave off the cold. “Indeed, thank you for the invitation. Pardon my intrusion,” he continued, turning to Veerle and lowering his voice slightly. “It’s nearly time for us to leave.”
“What, already?” Veerle went digging for his own pocket watch, but after a few seconds seemed to grasp that he wouldn't find it in Maxim's coat pockets. “Hmm. Well, alright.” Shifting his focus back to Finbar and Dani, he added, "I suppose we're going then.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Maxim noticed Dani and Finbar exchange a look, but it was over before he could possibly define what it meant. Dani let out a cackling laugh and ducked inside the shop, but not before clapping Veerle on the shoulder (probably a bit harder than necessary).
The confusion on his face must have been obvious, because Finbar and Elyse started chuckling. “Well, I’m glad y’all made it out,” Finbar said, his smile widening into something almost conspiratorial. “But before you leave, I think you forgot about something.” He didn’t elaborate, just glanced upwards.
Maxim followed his eyes and froze in place. There, hanging from the corner of the awning just above them, was a sprig of mistletoe. A fan of long thin leaves, bright green even in the middle of winter, dotted with clusters of bright white berries. It was affixed to the awning by a red ribbon, tied neatly into a bow at the base of the stem.
Maxim dragged his gaze away from the mistletoe to question Finbar, but both their host and hostess had disappeared in the seconds he’d been staring. He spun around and found them standing in the open doors of the coffeehouse, looking back with wide grins that Maxim could only describe as shit-eating.
“I figured y’all’d never go for it in a crowded room,” Finbar mused, as though that was all the explanation they needed. “Anyway, you two have fun.” He shut the door behind him, leaving Maxim and Veerle alone in the quiet street.
For a moment Maxim just stared after him, his slowed mind working hard to process the implications behind Finbar’s words. When it finally clicked, he felt the blood rushing into his face, and he turned to look at Veerle.
The detective was still looking at the shop’s doors, brow furrowed in confusion. His eyes, shining gold in the flickering lamplight, were less focused than usual – not quite the glassy blankness they took on when he became tangled in the web of his own thoughts, but also not the sharpness that came with the careful investigation of a crime scene or the delivery of a witty remark to a thwarted criminal. Maxim realized he was staring again, but before he could look away, Veerle’s gaze snapped toward him, eyes wide with surprise, the flush in his cheeks glowing brighter.
Maxim cleared his throat in attempt to break the awkward silence floating between them. “Well, um, we don't have to if you're not comfortable with it. It's tradition, not law.”
“Oh no, I– Uh, I’m fine with it if you’re fine with it,” Veerle stuttered, his words faintly slurring into one another, “but I don’t want to, uh, make you or anything.”
“No, it's alright, I don't mind…”
Maxim heard Veerle respond but didn’t quite catch his words. The brandy must have affected him more than he thought, because despite his usual reserve when it came to acts of physicality, he found himself thoroughly persuaded. It was tradition after all, why not take the opportunity presented to him? Before he could talk himself out of it, he stepped forward to close the gap between them and pressed a quick peck to Veerle’s lips.
Veerle had been mid-sentence, but he froze entirely as soon as Maxim kissed him. His face went bright red – somewhere in the back of his mind Maxim felt concern for his circulation – and as if to hide it he ducked his head and kept his eyes firmly on the ground.
Once it became obvious that Veerle wasn’t moving anytime soon, Maxim hastily took him by the arm and started walking. For a few seconds his mind spun – perhaps he crossed a line, perhaps he’d misinterpreted the situation, no matter the outcome he wasn’t keen on standing around and waiting for someone to start asking questions. But as he passed the last of the coffeehouse’s windows, he spotted Finbar, Elyse, and Dani all watching from inside. Dani had her hands thrown up in the air in a cheer, and Finbar and Elyse were laughing with those mischievous smiles still plastered on their faces. And, catching a glimpse of Veerle’s face reflected in the glass, he saw him grinning like an idiot, eyes unfocused as though lost in a trance.
Maxim felt himself relax, and though he tried to shoot a glare at the three spectators, he couldn’t help but smile himself, lips quirking upward and eyes creasing at the corners. Savoring the unfamiliar warmth bubbling through his chest, he adjusted his hold on Veerle’s arm, careful not to let his companion stumble as they headed home.
***
The quiet walk back to Maxim’s townhouse felt longer than usual, though that may have been because Veerle couldn’t quite walk straight. Or maybe because he couldn't quite think straight. He hadn't had that much to drink – maybe a glass or two more than was wise – but the incident with the mistletoe had sent him reeling with a new kind of drunkenness, one that fogged his mind and tripped his feet and had him leaning heavily into Maxim’s side for the vast majority of the walk. He'd largely recovered by the time they returned, though thinking back on the moment sent a new wave of giddiness through him every time.
Maybe Maxim had been right, having them leave the party when they did. Clearly he needed sleep more than a few extra drinks.
Veerle stepped inside just after him, humming faintly as the warmth of the foyer enveloped him, seeping into his limbs and slowly drawing out the remaining chill. He shrugged off his coat – uh, rather, Maxim's coat – and went to hang it on the coat rack before wait what is that.
Hastily tied to the corner of the door frame was another mistletoe branch. He hadn't put it there, and he was sure Maxim hadn't either. Then how…? Upon closer inspection, he spotted a small piece of paper threaded through the twine, almost completely hidden behind the plant’s dark green leaves. There was a single line of chicken-scratch writing scrawled across it, only barely legible:
Your upstairs window’s unlocked >:-) Dani
Of course it was Dani. Who else would break in just to mess with him?
Veerle shot a glance over his shoulder. Maxim was a few steps away, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie with a tired expression. He hadn't yet noticed their new decoration – he probably wouldn't notice at all unless someone pointed it out to him.
A smile spread across Veerle's face, that same goofy half-drunk grin from before. Well, it was Christmas. Who was he to deny himself such a festive tradition? And besides, it was only fair. Maxim had his turn earlier.
“Hey Maxim,” he called behind him, working hard to keep his voice even and suppress the laughter brimming in his chest. “Do you see this?”
“Hmm?” With a few slow steps, Maxim came to stand beside him, pausing briefly to rub at his eyes. “What is it?”
Veerle wordlessly pointed toward the mistletoe. He watched Maxim's eyes follow the gesture, then saw the exact moment the realization set in. He couldn't help but laugh as Maxim's eyes went wide, staring in confusion as a faint flush bloomed across his cheeks. “I… Did you–”
Before he could get another word out, Veerle reached out to take hold of Maxim’s tie, then with a yank pulled him forward. Maxim managed to catch himself just before colliding with him, but found himself nose to nose with Veerle instead, barely a hair’s breadth between them.
“My turn,” Veerle said with a chuckle. He brought his free hand to the back of Maxim’s head, tangled his fingers in his hair, and pulled him to his lips.
Maxim’s surprised gasp shifted into a faint sigh as he melted into the kiss. His hands found Veerle’s waist, fingers pressing hot into the dip of his spine. His hesitation dissolving away, he took a half step forward, gently nudging Veerle back, their chests pulled flush against one another.
Veerle let himself be pinned against the wall, a whine building in his throat at the sensation of teeth scraping over his lip. His head spun, any coherent thoughts banished from his mind in the firm hold of his… um… well, he’d figure that out later. For now, he reveled in the taste of brandy and spices on Maxim’s tongue, the groan resonating through his bones as he pulled tighter on his hair, their forms melding together as though tailor-made to fit perfectly into each other's arms.
If he’d known this was what was waiting for him, he would’ve left the party much, much earlier.
I never went in for afterglow
Or candlelight on the mistletoe
But now when you turn the lamp down low
I'm beginning to see the light.