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Thomas sat in his pantry, yawning as he tidied up his desk to the sound of soft voices drifting in through the open door. Despite the late hour, most of his fellow servants were still up, gathered together in the servants' hall, chattering and sipping on mulled wine. Mr Carson was there too. On any other day, Thomas would have been annoyed by that. Mr Carson seriously needed to accept the fact that he had retired and that his all too frequent visits were making the current butler want to murder him.
But Thomas could put aside his murderous urges for one day. It was Christmas Eve after all.
With another deep yawn, Thomas got up to put on his coat and gloves. He looked around the room to make sure everything was in order, before grabbing his hat and stepping into the servants' hall.
"Right," Thomas said, gesturing for everyone to remain seated, "I'm off. I trust you'll all behave yourselves and go to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour, even though I won't be here to keep an eye on you." He gave a playful wink, ignoring Mr Carson's huff of disapproval as the others chuckled.
"Are you sure it's wise to go out in this weather?" Mrs Hughes asked with a concerned frown.
"Don't worry, Mrs Hughes," Thomas said as the wind howled outside. "It's just a bit of snow. And my cottage isn't that far."
"Is that all you're wearing?"
Thomas looked down at himself. "Yes?"
"Oh for heaven's sake." Mrs Hughes sighed and shook her head. "Wait there." She got up and disappeared into her sitting room, returning a moment later with a thick red scarf, which she promptly wrapped around Thomas's neck, making him blush as the room erupted into giggles (and another noise of disapproval from Mr Carson).
"But don't you--"
"I won't be needing it," Mrs Hughes promised. "Mr Carson and I will both be staying here tonight."
"Only a fool would go out in this weather," Mr Carson muttered.
"Thank you, Mrs Hughes," Thomas said with a small, grateful smile. He took a step back and put on his hat. "I'll see you all in the morning. Good night, everyone."
"Good night, Mr Barrow!"
Thomas smiled to himself as he made his way over to the back door. He was just about to step out into the yard when he heard someone whisper his name, and turned to find that Mrs Hughes had followed him. "Yes?" he whispered.
"I only wanted to say," Mrs Hughes glanced over her shoulder, "that there's room for one more at our Christmas lunch tomorrow, and plenty of food, if you wanted to bring a guest."
Thomas blinked. "I don't know what you mean, Mrs Hughes. Who would I bring?"
The housekeeper simply smiled knowingly.
Thomas swallowed nervously. "Seems a bit reckless, don't you think?"
Mrs Hughes shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with inviting a friend to Christmas lunch, Mr Barrow."
"I'm not sure your husband would agree."
"Let me deal with him. He's not in charge here anymore, you are."
"I'm not sure he'd agree about that either."
Mrs Hughes chuckled quietly.
"He doesn't deserve you, Mrs Hughes."
"Well, the heart wants what it wants," Mrs Hughes said, smiling kindly at Thomas. "You of all people should know that."
"Touché."
"Now, be off with you before this storm gets any worse. And be careful."
"It's just a bit of snow, Mrs Hughes. I'll be fine."
*
Thomas trudged slowly on stiff, wobbly legs through knee-deep snow, squinting against the frigid wind that whipped around him, making it nearly impossible to see where he was going. He held onto his hat with one hand, and held Mrs Hughes's scarf to the lower half of his face with the other.
Mr Carson's stupid, grumpy voice echoed in his head. Only a fool would go out in this weather.
*
"Thomas? Is that you?"
"Who else would it bloody be?" Thomas wheezed breathlessly as he stumbled through the front door of his cottage, jumping as the wind slammed it shut behind him.
"I thought you might be some sort of snow monster."
"Very funny," Thomas huffed, slumping against the wall and closing his eyes. He took a few long deep breaths, and held out his gloved hands in front of him. "Help me get these off, will you? I can't feel my fingers."
Warm, gentle hands pulled Thomas's gloves off, and returned after a moment to wrap around his stiff fingers.
"Have your eyes frozen shut?"
Thomas opened his eyes to find Jimmy looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. "Hi," he said softly, smiling at the sight of his lover bundled up in one of Thomas's jumpers and the scarf that Thomas had forgotten to put on before he left that morning.
"Hi," Jimmy replied. "You look ridiculous."
"Well, I have just walked through a blizzard."
Jimmy raised Thomas's hands to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "I wasn't sure you'd come back. Thought maybe you'd stay at the big house tonight."
Thomas lifted a hand to stroke Jimmy's cheek. "I'll always come home to you, Jimmy."
"That's very sweet," Jimmy said, "but could you please get your icy fingers off my face?"
"Oh. Sorry."
*
"We should go to bed," Thomas murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Jimmy's head.
"Mm," Jimmy mumbled. "In a minute."
They were curled up under a blanket in front of the fireplace, dressed in their pyjamas and dressing gowns. Behind them, the living room was lit up only by the soft glow of the Christmas lights on the small tree that Thomas had brought home the day before.
Outside, the storm raged on. The sound of the howling wind made Thomas shiver.
"Are you still cold?" Jimmy asked, shifting closer, one hand lazily rubbing Thomas's back.
Thomas shook his head. "I'm fine."
"Good." Jimmy climbed onto Thomas's lap and cupped his face with both hands. For a moment all they did was smile softly at each other, until Jimmy leaned in to capture Thomas's lips in a slow, tender kiss.
Thomas could feel Jimmy's hands wandering, but he didn't pay them much attention until one of them slid into his pants. "Jimmy, it's too late for that."
"Too late for what?" Jimmy asked innocently. "I'm just making sure that every part of you is nice and warm, that's all."
"Uh-huh."
Jimmy smirked as he gave Thomas's soft member a light squeeze. "Feels a bit cold actually. I should--"
"Get your hand out of my pants and go to bed."
"Ugh, fine."
*
Thomas woke up the following morning feeling like he'd only dozed for a few minutes. He rubbed his tired eyes and turned his head to look at Jimmy, who was stretched out on his back, one hand under his pillow, the other resting against Thomas's hip.
Thomas wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. His body ached, his eyes burned, and just the thought of going back out into the snow made him want to cry.
But then he remembered what day it was, and why he'd woken up even earlier than usual.
Moving slowly and silently, Thomas got up and put on his dressing gown over his pyjamas. He shuffled over to the window, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that the world outside was quiet and peaceful. The ground was covered with a thick blanket of snow that he would soon have to trudge through, but he would at least be able to see where he was going.
With one last longing look at the bed, Thomas walked out and closed the bedroom door carefully behind him.
When he returned, Jimmy had rolled over onto Thomas's side of the bed and buried his face in his pillow.
Thomas walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to shake Jimmy's shoulder gently. "Merry Christmas, Jimmy."
Jimmy groaned into Thomas's pillow. "No."
"No?"
"No Christmas."
"No Christmas?"
"Mm."
Thomas grinned. "Okay. So you don't want the gifts that are waiting for you in the living room?"
Jimmy let out another long, dramatic groan before turning over onto his back, squinting sleepily up at Thomas.
"Morning, love."
"Too early."
"I know," Thomas agreed. "Now get up, we don't have much time."
Jimmy held out a hand. "Help me up." Before his tired brain could understand what was happening, Thomas had slid one arm under his thighs and one around his back and lifted Jimmy from the bed. "What the-- Thomas!" Jimmy yelped and flailed before curling his arms around Thomas's neck. "If you drop me I'll--"
"Stop moving and I won't," Thomas chuckled. He carried Jimmy to the living room, where he set him down on the sofa and draped a blanket over his shoulders.
Jimmy smiled as he looked around the room. On the table in front of him were two steaming cups of tea and a plate full of gingerbread biscuits, a sprig of mistletoe hung in the doorway to the kitchen, and there was a big pile of presents next to the softly glowing Christmas tree in the corner.
"Do you want to open them now?" Thomas asked.
"Only if you open yours," Jimmy replied, snorting at the surprised look on Thomas's face. "Did you really think I wouldn't get you anything? Idiot." He rolled his eyes and went to get the bag that he'd hidden under the bed.
They took turns opening their gifts, pausing to sip their tea and nibble on biscuits. Once all the gifts had been opened, they thanked each other with sweet kisses.
"I have to get dressed," Thomas said regretfully, forcing himself to pull away from Jimmy's heavenly lips.
Jimmy sighed. "I know."
"You should get dressed, too."
"What for?"
Thomas pressed another, quick kiss to Jimmy's lips. "Because you're coming with me."
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "I am?"
"Mrs Hughes told me to invite you to our Christmas lunch."
"Mrs Hughes knows about me?" Jimmy asked. "How?"
Thomas shrugged.
"But why do I have to come now? You'll be busy all morning."
"Because you're a lazy sod."
"Hey!"
"If you don't come with me now, you're not gonna come at all."
Jimmy glared at Thomas.
"You know it's true."
"Fine," Jimmy muttered. "Won't it be awkward, though? What will I do while you're busy?"
Thomas shrugged. "Catch up with everyone. Play the piano. Steal biscuits and bother Daisy and Mrs Patmore until they kick you out of the kitchen."
"I have missed Mrs Patmore's angry face," Jimmy agreed wistfully.
"And if you feel too awkward, you can always hide away in my pantry," Thomas said, stroking Jimmy's cheek. "And you can leave after lunch, if you want. I just don't want you to spend all day here, alone."
"All right, you've convinced me." Jimmy got up and went to stand in the kitchen doorway. "There's just one more thing we need to do, and then we can go get dressed."
"What's that?" Thomas asked.
Jimmy pointed up at the mistletoe hanging over his head.
Thomas rolled his eyes.
"Hey, you're the one who put it there. Now come and kiss me! And hurry up, we don't have much time."
Thomas did as he was told, smiling fondly at Jimmy as he pulled away from a sweet kiss that had lasted longer than he'd intended. "Merry Christmas, Jimmy."
"Merry Christmas, Thomas."