He's beautiful, J thinks, so breathtakingly beautiful in his earnest happiness and hope. J nods as an answer, touched in turn. It makes sense, he knows, that this year would be a particularly special one for them both. Even so, it moves him, heart warm and full as he leans closer, lifting a hand to cup S's cheek and pull him gently into a kiss.

That year was a hard one. There were times J felt horribly guilty for being so happy, knowing that his happiness rested on S having lost the most important people in his life. But it was a good one, too, and that Christmas was so special. So close on the heels of their getting together, it felt like a fresh start, the beginning of their own tiny family. This year, too, is a new beginning, a chance to get things right that he fucked up so thoroughly before. Like this, though, his other arm slipping around S's waist, he feels like he's getting things right.

"Really," he murmurs against S's mouth. "This is wonderful. You're wonderful."