It's mid-November of 2011, and Alex has just managed to drag himself through the American leg of the tour and cap it off with some dates back in the UK, and all he's thinking about is going home to sit alone and metaphorically lick his wounds. It's been a decent tour, all things considered, but that's necessitated an absolute refusal to think too hard about her. Alexa, that is. Some time to stew is overdue, he figures. A bit of time to breathe.
He's not getting that yet. They're on the way back from Liverpool to Sheffield, so that the others can meet up with their families and celebrate the holidays, and Alex is getting absolutely no alone time with which to breathe or stew or lick his wounds. Between the time he spends tucked away in his bunk trying to hide from everyone (and failing) and the time he spends out and about trying to be social...
Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It's rich to complain about having friends that are being too caring. Sometimes, though, he just wants to be left alone, that's all. Not sitting down trying to write in his notebook and getting a red hat shoved on his head for his troubles, squishing down his unstyled hair and leaving him a bit disgruntled. He looks up at Nick in confusion and annoyance; Nick just grins and adjusts the hat to make it sit right.
So. Alex decides he'll head back down to London to hide away in his flat and consider his failings, as a person and as a boyfriend. And he does. The rest of November passes in a quiet blur of introspection, and before Alex even notices it's December he's getting texts. His parents, first, asking if he'll be in for Christmas, and then Nick and Jamie just wishing him a happy one, and then, finally, Matt, around December tenth, telling him that he's expecting him over 'cause he asked his parents, already, and-
"C'mon," Matt's saying, voice staticky over the phone. "Mum's excited to have you over. You'll come, yeah?"
Alex tries to think of something to say, but his breath at first just comes out in a little sigh. "That's- that's fine, I just..." he starts, thinking of putting into words that he's wanting to be alone this holiday season, but he's already been alone in his flat for a month and it hasn't helped, anyway, and Matt's offering. "... I won't be intruding?"
"You know you're always welcome," Matt says, almost like he's scolding Alex. "You're family, or near enough."
So Alex goes to Matt's family's for Christmas. Which isn't really that distinct from going to his own parents', because they're so close together it's like one might as well be the other, but regardless he's staying at Matt's family's house and he's visiting his family some days. It's not his own childhood bedroom he's sleeping in, it's Matt's.
They've spent the night at each other's plenty of times over the years. When they were little, they'd both crawl into the same bed and sleep back to back; when they got up to being teens, the both of them got gangly and awkward enough that they gave up on that and just started sleeping in their own bed with whoever was over on the floor in a nest of blankets and pillows. Matt's got one of them piles together again, and crawling into it to curl up is nostalgic and comfortable and all of those feelings that the holidays are supposed to bring when you're not wallowing in self-pity over your failed relationship again. Well, relationships, really.
It's nice, is all. Alex wakes up in the nest of blankets and pillows and stares at the ceiling in the mornings, and eventually Matt wakes up too, and they both head downstairs to do whatever it is they're doing that day.
His back's starting to hurt, though. Maybe sleeping on the floor's a little rougher age twenty-five as opposed to age fifteen. Ten years will do that to you, he supposes. He doesn't complain about it or anything, but Matt notices when he hears Alex popping his back one morning with a wince as they're getting changed into their clothes, startling cracking sounds up his spine, one vertebra after the other.
There's a short little exchange about it - Matt pokes fun at Alex and everything - and then Alex figures it's forgotten, but when he gets back into Matt's room the blanket pile's been dissolved and redistributed amongst Matt's bedding. There's an extra pillow for Alex and everything. Matt pats the bed and gives Alex one of those stupid fond smiles he gives.
"Here," he says, and when Alex approaches with a frown on his face that he can feel Matt reaches up to loop his fingers around his wrist and tug him down. "Comfier than the floor, ain't it?"
Alex sputters as he hits the mattress, landing on his arse and just letting Matt hold his wrist. "We're... we're fully grown men, Matthew, we're not gonna fit," he quibbles, though, because honestly Matt barely fits in the bed himself.
"Sure we can," Matt says, and he (very rudely) pulls Alex down into the blankets so they can cuddle up. Matt stays on the side of the wall, which is nice of him, though, 'cause the second they're flopped down and Matt's arm has flopped over Alex's side he would have definitely been trapped if he were on the wall side. Alex shifts in place and mumbles something half-heartedly annoyed as he starts to fall asleep. Yeah, it's comfier than the floor.
When he wakes up in the morning, Matt's even closer. Not that they weren't already right close, but it's more, now; Matt's nose is buried in his hair, his chest up against Alex's back, their legs tangled together and his arm holding Alex close around his waist. It's comfortable and it's sweet and it's warm, and Alex almost wants to just lie there and soak it in except for that it's starting to feel too warm and sweet and comfortable. He leans forward and slowly, carefully detangles himself from Matt's grip to escape.
It's early enough in the morning that once Alex's done the normal morning things - teeth brushed and clothes donned - everyone's still either asleep or just starting to wake. Well, it's the perfect time, then, to head out and find some place to get Christmas presents, because Alex realised late last night that in his miserable funk over November and into the beginning of December he completely forgot. It's a visit to various shops, then, taxi rides and poking around for things to get his best friend and his family. (And his own parents, of course, but that's easy, at least. His mum's been hoping for a new kitchenware set for the past year, there's gonna be no surprises there.)
When he gets back to Matt's, he's got shopping bags in his hands and a tube of wrapping paper sticking out. He has to hurry up to Matt's room to tuck it all away before anybody sees what he's got them, stumbling a bit over the stairs. Once he's got the gifts stashed away in their hiding place, he hurries back out of Matt's room to try and play it cool, like he wasn't just rushing to find gifts for everyone, but that lasts all of three seconds when he bumps into Matt. Physically, literally bumps into him, with a little 'oof' as he bounces back and shakes his head in startlement.
Matt snorts and pats Alex's shoulder. "You're in a rush, huh? What, you just got back from gift shopping?"
... Like, Alex could lie, here, but what's the point, really? "... Yeah," he admits, his arms crossing over his chest and his eyes sliding over to look at the wall with a head tilt. "Realised I didn't have, y'know, gifts, so. Thought it were... time to pick some up."
"Sure, sure. It's five days until Christmas, but sure." Matt steps out of the way, and then turns to look at Alex again and jerks his thumb over his shoulder towards his room. "You gonna need time to wrap everything?"
And Alex does. At least it doesn't take too long, and then it's all done in that first day and all the boxes are squirreled away into a pile in Matt's room.
Then comes the day that it's time to set up the tree, and Matt and Alex get left to do it while everybody else does what they've been assigned. Alex takes every chance he gets to be annoying to Matt, 'cause why wouldn't he? Tinsel looped around Matt's neck or draped on his head, the string of lights wrapped around his chest. Matt lets himself get decorated along with the tree with minimal argument, only really reacting to tuck the little berry twigs - mistletoe or holly or whichever it's meant to be - behind Alex's ear or into the collar of his shirt, where it unfailingly slips and starts to fall down into it, obnoxious and stupid.
It's fun, though, so Alex doesn't really mind. How could he mind? Matt's just snuck up from behind to sneak plastic berries into his shirt, wrapped an arm around him to hold him still so he can make sure it falls down the back of his neck, and it's annoying too, and it's great. Eventually, the tree's decorated, lights and tinsel and ornaments, and there's shed pine needles and bits of tinsely plastic stuck in everyone's hair and clothes, and Matt's leaning up to top the tree with a star that Alex knows he and his family have had since he were a kid.
It's finally Christmas morning. Alex digs his gift for Matt out of his pile, and - while they're still in Matt's room, while Matt's still getting up and getting ready - he hands the box over to him with his eyes laser-focused on the ground to avoid looking at him. He doesn't wanna have to deal with seeing whatever expressions happen. Not his business. "Here. Dunno if it's really enough to make up for you lettin' me stay over, but- but, y'know, eh. Happy Christmas."
Alex feels the weight of the box lift from his hand, and there's a few moments of quiet as Matt very gently shakes it, and then before Alex even notices it's happened there's a gift bow stuck to his jumper, and he looks up to see Matt's wide, bright grin on his face and his hand still resting on Alex's chest. "Don't worry. You're enough."
("You got me a candle?"
"All the good gifts were gone, man, it was either this or novelty socks."
"Well, shit, maybe you weren't enough. Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm only kidding.")