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schmooplesboop · 5 months

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Perfect Gift

Pairing(s): Clive X Gav, Byron X Eugen, Joshua X ???

Ratings and warnings: Teen, bc there's implied sexy times

My brain has the Big Sad right now so I wrote some Christmas schmoop to cheer myself up. Hope y'all enjoy :)

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Byron was all in a dither today. Truth be told, he’d been in a dither for the last two weeks, ever since he and Eugen decided to spend Yule together… and introduce their families to each other.

Eugen was bringing his sister and her children, all of whom Byron knew well. He’d been friends with Eudora for some time before she’d introduced him to Eugen all those years ago. They’d remained friends even after young Byron and Eugen had drifted apart, and Eudora and her children had spent many summers in Port Isolde over the years. Byron had invited his nephews, Gav, and Jill, none of whom Eugen knew.

Usually, his Yule parties were loud, noisy, and very crowded affairs with every available friend, colleague, and even some rivals invited. This year’s would be small and quiet, he and Eugen deciding that a more subdued party would be the best setting for everyone to get to know each other.

Byron fussed with the decorations on one of the many Yule trees dotted around the parlor for around the one hundredth time. Usually, these things didn’t bother him, but this was his first Yule with his own family in over two decades and his first Yule with Eugen ever. He wanted everything to be… not perfect, but wonderful, at least.

He probably would’ve driven himself, Rutherford, and the rest of his staff to drink ages ago if Joshua, Clive, Gav, and Torgal hadn’t arrived half a week early to help. Joshua and Torgal kept him distracted, his nephew with conversation, Torgal with demands for scratches behind the ears and rubs for his belly. And though Jill couldn’t attend the Yule celebrations, as she was spending her holiday with her brother and his husband, she also helped distract Byron in her own way. She’d sent a lovely letter and an even lovelier wine, which Byron finished off within a few days. At the manor, Clive assisted Rutherford in ironing out all the little details, and Gav was helping with the ongoing effort to decorate the estate.

And when Byron discovered that the boar he’d procured, the centerpiece of the feast, had spoiled, it’d also been Gav who’d vanished into the forest outside Port Isolde with Torgal in tow, returning nearly eight hours later, both of them splattered in blood and Gav dragging the largest boar Byron had ever seen on a sledge behind him. Even offered to butcher it if the kitchen staff proved too squeamish to do it.

“Hope you’re planning to hold onto that one,” he’d muttered to his nephew as they watched Gav pulling his sledge across the main yard, making Clive’s cheeks turn pink.

“For as long as he’ll have me, Uncle.” Clive muttered back as Gav waved at them enthusiastically, a grin on his bloody face.

Byron flitted from the Yule tree to the fireplace, arranging and rearranging and re-rearranging the festive statues of snow moogles on the mantle. Tomorrow evening. Twenty-four short hours before the Yule celebration, even less before Eugen and his family would arrive. He bustled out of the parlor to make sure the guest rooms were still in order.

❆ ❆ ❆

Despite the dusting of snow they were getting, the main marketplace in Port Isolde was packed with people. Joshua rubbed his cold, gloved hands together and shook the snow from his hair before pulling the hood of his cloak up. He followed along as Clive darted from stall to stall, reminding him very much of their dear uncle. His brother was frantically looking for a Yule gift for Gav.

He hadn’t forgotten, in fact Clive had already bought four different gifts for Gav before they even left for Port Isolde, stashing them all in Byron’s bedchamber after they’d arrived. Now it seemed he was going to buy four more, or perhaps the whole market.

“After everything we’ve survived, you’re going to fret yourself into an early grave, brother.” He teased lightly.

Clive shot him a dark look then hurried to another stall, scrutinizing their wares so intensely the poor vendor started to look concerned, as though Clive was going to wreck the stall or steal everything.

“It has to be perfect. It has to show him how I feel…”

Joshua gave his brother a smile that was both incredulous and amused, “Right, because Gav has no idea how you feel about him. You’ve only told him that you love him, gave him grandfather’s ring to wear, made eyes at him the entire time we were journeying to Port Isolde—”

Clive shot him another look and Joshua raised his hands in mock surrender, holding in laughter. He supposed he could understand why Clive was worked up. They all sorely needed this brief moment of respite, wanting it to go smoothly wasn’t unreasonable. Though he still thought his brother was placing too large a burden on himself. He could give Gav an apple for Yule and the man would love it simply because it was a gift from Clive.

And it isn’t as though the perfect gift even exis—oh. His eye fell on a rather handsome set of silver hairbrushes. Well. Never mind. Those would be perfect for—

“Phoenix’s flaming ass!” Clive exclaimed in frustration before turning a sheepish smile on him. “Sorry, that’s one of Gav’s more innovative curses. He must be rubbing off on me.”

Joshua picked up the hairbrushes, handing some gil over to the vendor. “Better my flaming ass than Ifrit’s bountiful bosom.”

Clive snorted out a laugh, all apprehension over finding a gift momentarily forgotten, “Gav did not say that.”

“Oh, he absolutely did. Granted, he was intoxicated at the time, but he did indeed say it.”

His brother sighed fondly, “I love that man.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Byron had seen Clive and Joshua coming down the lane from his bedroom window, returning from the marketplace no doubt, and went down to the kitchen to make some hot cocoa. It was snowing steadily now and his nephews were likely to be damp and cold.

He’d just finished arranging four wooden mugs of steaming hot cocoa and a plate of cookies on a tray when he heard Torgal barking a happy greeting to Clive and Joshua. He picked the tray up and walked down the hall, peeking into the entrance hall.

Both of his nephews were covered in a powdering of snow. Joshua was looking excited, carrying a set of silver hairbrushes tucked under his arm. Poor Clive looked wet and beleaguered. Byron smiled softly. He had a hunch what was bothering his oldest nephew and had just the solution.

“Welcome back, you two!” He called, holding up the tray as he entered the foyer. “Care to join me for a nosh?”

“We’d be delighted, uncle,” Joshua said brightly as he and Clive removed their cloaks and boots.

Byron held the tray out to Joshua, “Could you take this to the parlor please? Oh, and coax Gav out of the library while you’re passing by, he’s been decorating all afternoon. Clive, could you come with me for a moment? I need you for something.”

Clive nodded distractedly; Byron wouldn’t be surprised if his nephew hadn’t heard a single word he said.

Joshua went off with the tray of goodies and his mission to lure Gav away from his work. Torgal followed closely at Joshua’s heels, likely with his own mission to acquire some cookies. Byron led Clive upstairs to his bedchamber.

He gestured vaguely at the cushy chair in the corner of the room, “Have a seat, my boy. This won’t take long.”

Clive sat, still looking like a lost, sad puppy and Byron dug through his wardrobe, “Having trouble finding a suitable gift for Gav?” He asked as he rifled through his clothes.

That got Clive’s attention, head snapping up as Byron found what he’d been looking for and walked over to him with a bundle in his arms.

“Might I make a suggestion?” When Clive nodded, he placed a fine outdoor cloak, thick black leather and lined with dark silver fur, in his lap. This was one of the many gifts Clive had already bought for Gav and hid in his room upon arriving. It’d sparked this idea the moment he saw it, “I think you should give him this. And… this as well.”

He set a heavy, metal cloak pin on Clive’s knee. It’d been forged in the symbol of his, Byron’s, house. He’d given similar ones to Clive and Joshua nearly the moment after finding out that they still lived. The only difference was this pin was the first one he ever had forged when he had the money to do so. It’d been a little personal celebration… and a thumb of his nose to Father, he’d made his house’s symbol as flamboyant as possible. This particular pin was of great significance to him.

Clive must’ve had an inkling of this, because he looked up at him uncertainly. “Uncle, are you sure?”

He waved an airy hand, “Of course I am, my boy! Let him know he’s part of this family. That’s what you’ve really been fretting about since you got here, is it not?” Byron bounced on the balls of his feet, proud of himself. “I can be observant when I really put my mind to it, you know.”

Byron started a bit as Clive’s arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him tightly. “Thank-you, Uncle Byron. For everything.”

Byron laughed too, patting his nephew on the head. “It’s the least I could do.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Yule was here and the estate was nearly decorated from top to bottom, only a few last-minute touches were needed here and there. Gav was helping the house staff hang clusters of winterberry in nearly every important entranceway, standing on tiptoe atop a slightly rickety wooden stool, tongue pinched between his teeth. He knew how bizarre this would look to Port Isolde’s fancy folk, doing menial tasks, but the thought of just sitting back and letting people wait on him, and do all the work, turned his stomach. He would be as tightly wound as Byron.

Frankly, he only felt truly at ease when he was with Clive and when he'd been out in forest boar hunting. That’d brought back memories of his childhood Yules, waking before the sun was even a peek on the horizon and going hunting with his father for the Yule dinner he and his older brothers would help their mother cook later.

The winterberry, bunches of green frilly leaves and berries like large fat pearls, was tied into a little bouquet with a length of golden twine. He finally got the loop knotted at one end of the twine over the hook suspended overhead, hanging up the last winterberry. He was gazing up at it, making sure it didn’t look crooked, when he felt a familiar hand paw at the curve of his ass before squeezing firmly.

“Clive,” He scolded, failing spectacularly at keeping the smile off his lips and the laughter out of his voice, “That isn’t what you do under the winterberry.”

“Oh?” Clive’s innocent tone was belied by the sly smirk on his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve celebrated Yule. My memory needs to be refreshed…”

Gav hummed out a quiet laugh, nimbly hopping down from the stool. “Well, first you get beneath it with someone…”

Clive’s hands settled on his hips, pulling him forward a bit so they were both squarely under the little hanging plant. “Done. And then what?”

He traced his fingers lightly over Clive’s jawline before cupping his face, “Then, you plant one on ‘em.”

Gav leaned in, kissing Clive soft and slow and thorough, with a flick of cheeky tongue to cap it off.

Clive’s hands squeezed his hips when he made to draw back, “Show me that last part again, Gav…”

There was a tiny, awkward cough and a high voice interrupted them, “U-um. Sorry, excuse me.” One of Byron’s housekeepers had come up on them as quiet as a mouse, cheeks pink and eyes darting everywhere except in their direction. “Lord Rosfield. Sir Gav. Lord Byron’s guests are coming down the lane. He wishes for you all to greet them in the main yard.”

Clive’s face had gone a brilliant shade of red, amusing Gav to no end. Here was the man who’d been so boldly grabbing his ass just a few minutes ago, blushing like a shy lad about to slip into his First Night bed.

“Thank-you,” he said to the housekeeper, as Clive seemed to have lost his tongue. “We’ll be along right quick.”

The housekeeper gave a nod and hurried off. Alone once more, Gav quickly covered Clive’s warm, flushed face with kisses.

“Memory chugging along yet?” He asked with a grin.

Plainly recovered from his embarrassment, Clive’s arms wrapped tight around his waist, “Getting there. Perhaps just once more…”

❆ ❆ ❆

His palms were sweating. Eugen and his family were still a ways away, but Byron surreptitiously wiped his hands on his trousers. Joshua, Clive, and Gav stood with him, all of them looking on with interest. Torgal was the only one who seemed bored with their approaching guests, having a nap curled up in the newly fallen snow.

Eugen and his nephew reached them first, mounted on massive brown-feathered chocobos. His sister and twin nieces were a little ways back, concealed inside a carriage being pulled by two more chocobos and steered by one of Eugen’s men. A handful of Eugen’s soldiers walked behind the carriage; the roads weren’t safe for travelers these days.

“Eugen!” Byron raised his arms then paused, not entirely sure how Eugen would want to be greeted. He was rather passionate when they were alone, but with their families looking on…

Thankfully, he didn’t have to decide what to do. Eugen approached him, hugged him, and kissed his cheek.

“Byron, you old bastard, I missed you.”

Byron laughed, that was the man he loved alright. “And I missed you, Eugen. I was buzzing like a frantic bee all over the manor this morning.” He gestured to the trio beside him, “Allow me to introduce you—”

It really wasn’t necessary for him to do this, most of Valisthea and certainly all of Rosaria knew these three by now, Clive and Joshua especially, but Byron wanted this evening to be a little slice of normalcy for them. They’d earned—no, they deserved it.

“—These are my nephews, Clive and Joshua Rosfield. And this is Clive’s companion, Gav.”

Clive promptly made sure they understood what sort of companion Byron was talking about by twining his fingers with Gav’s. Byron smiled a little.

Eugen shook each of their hands. “Eugen Havel. Enchanted to finally meet you, boys. Although I think I met you once when you were just a babe,” he said to Clive. “I doubt you remember that, though.”

“Not at all, sir,” Clive replied. “I’m delighted to meet you again all the same.”

Eugen chuckled then looked at Gav, “No second name?”

The lad’s cheeks went a little red, “Common born, sir. We don’t have those. ‘M just Gav from Snowbird Hollow.”

“Ah, the North.”

“Aye.”

Clive was frowning, giving Eugen the eye, like he wasn’t sure if Eugen was judging Gav or not. Byron didn’t blame him. Clive didn’t know Eugen. The man could be brusque but he was far from a snob, just endlessly curious.

The slightly sticky moment passed as the rest of Eugen’s party strolled in through the gate. Both Joshua and Clive tensed slightly when Eugen’s sister emerged from the carriage and Byron immediately understood why. She wore a Yule dress very like the ones their mother once favored and had her hair styled similarly as well.

But Byron knew this woman well and there was no one further from Anabella Rosfield than her. Plump, soft, and round where Anabella was all razor thin sharpness and bony angles. Dark where Anabella was fair. Kind where Anabella was cruel.

She didn’t wait for her brother to make introductions.

“Byron!” She thew her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug that smelled of powdered sugar and vanilla. “It’s been so long, old friend! I’ve missed you so!” She cast a kind eye over the other three, Clive and Joshua both visibly relaxing. “I’m Eugen’s sister, Eudora. Charmed to meet you, gentlemen!”

“I’ve missed you too, Eudora!” Byron laughed as his nephews and Gav murmured their own polite greetings.

The woman released Byron and grabbed her son by the elbow, pulling him forward so vigorously the poor lad nearly tripped, “This is my son Kasir.”

Kasir was near Joshua’s age, if Byron remembered correctly, perhaps a year younger. Handsome and tall, he had his mother’s golden-brown skin, but his amber eyes were his father’s, Eudora’s first husband.

Kasir had his mother’s charming, roguish smile though, “Enchanted.”

“And these are my twin daughters, Chiara and Melia.”

She brought the sisters forward. The twins would be twenty-two now… again, if his memory wasn’t misleading him. Their father was Eudora’s second husband. Eudora insisted that they could be differentiated, but Byron hadn’t been able to yet. Their skin was a shade lighter than their mother’s, but they had her dark eyes and hair, though their curls were free of the silver strands starting to creep their way into Eudora’s. The twins wore perfectly matching traveler’s dresses and had perfectly matching hairstyles. Byron inwardly shrugged. He still couldn’t tell them apart.

“I call them Chaos and Menace.” Kasir said with his roguish grin, making his sisters squawk in protest.

Byron silently agreed, lips twitching as he suppressed a smile. No one had been safe from the twins and their pranks when they were children. When they’d stayed at the manor one long ago summer Byron finally had to scold them for driving poor Rutherford around the bend.

“Well, isn’t this one pretty,” Chiara murmured as Joshua kissed the back of her hand.

“This one isn’t so bad either,” Melia added, eyeing Clive up and down. Gav seemed amused rather than annoyed by this.

Eudora’s sigh was both loving and long-suffering, “Where are your manners, young ladies? We’re guests here. Behave like it.”

“Told you. Chaos and Menace,” Kasir laughed.

The twins gave perfectly matching long-suffering sighs of their own and curtsied.

“Pleased to meet you all.” They chimed out in unison.

“I hope I’m dressed appropriately,” Eudora said to Byron as she smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. “I got this from that shop you recommended. I bought Yule clothes for my children too, but they’ve refused to wear them until dinner.”

Yule wasn’t widely celebrated in Dhalmekia. Eugen had been to Yule parties thrown by associates and friends before, but this would be a first-time celebration for Eudora and her brood.

“You look resplendent as always, Eudora.”

“Oh, Byron, stop,” She cackled, playfully smacking him on the arm. “My brother is right there. What will he think of you flirting with me?”

“He’ll think that you two haven’t changed a lick in the last thirty years.” Eugen said dryly, making both Byron and Eudora cackle this time. “Shall we head inside?”

“Hold on a moment, dearest Uncle. I’ve been reading all about Yule on the journey here.” Chiara said, dark eyes glittering with a cheerful mischief Byron was all too familiar with. “Is it true that once the families come together the younger generation has a mock battle with snowballs?”

“That custom is usually reserved for young children.” Eugen replied. “But I’ve no issue with you partaking if our host doesn’t.”

“None at all!” Byron said jovially.

Chiara clapped her hands in glee, looking over at his nephews and Gav. “You three game?”

Kasir gave his sister a withering look, “Seriously?”

“Oh, big brother,” Melia sighed, bending down to scoop up some snow. “Where is your sense of wonder?”

“Ah hell, why not. I’m in.” Gav said with a shrug.

Joshua still looked uncertain, but Clive nodded, which surprised Byron not at all. If Gav was in, Clive was in.

“This is ridiculous,” Kasir muttered, still bending down to cup some snow in his gloved hands.

Byron didn’t see who threw the first snowball, but it hit Kasir square in the face. And just like that, the years melted away before Byron’s eyes. They were no longer a group of world-weary adults, but totally unrestrained youth.

Gav and the twins took off running, laughing wildly as they pelted each other with snowballs and tossed a few more Kasir’s way.

“Oh… it’s on,” Kasir spat out a mouthful of snow and chased after them, aiming a snowball at the back of Gav’s head.

Clive immediately charged off to defend his love, shaping a snowball the size of a pumpkin in his large hands. Torgal, awakened from his nap, charged into the fray too, yipping like a puppy and tail wagging madly. With a kind of resigned anxiety on his face, Joshua followed along to make sure no one died by snowball.

“Well,” Byron grinned, watching Clive dunk his massive snowball on Kasir’s head before he could hit Gav. “Shall we leave them to it and have a pre-dinner drink in the parlor?”

Eugen and Eudora did an inadvertent but spot-on impression of the twins, answering in unison, “Excellent idea.”

❆ ❆ ❆

“Don’t laugh,” Gav’s voice said from behind the changing screen.

Dinner would be served soon, and the Yule party would follow immediately after. Clive and Gav were in the guest room they shared, changing into what Gav called their “Lord Fancy Pants outfits.” Soon after they’d first arrived at the manor, they’d spent an uncomfortable afternoon allowing Byron’s tailor to measure them for their Yule clothes. Clive could tell that Gav hated the whole process, but the blonde had endured it for Byron’s sake.

“I would never.” The sincerity in his voice must’ve convinced Gav, because the blonde emerged from behind the screen, tugging uncomfortably at his clothes.

Clive suppressed the urge to let out a low, appreciative whistle. Byron’s seamster had done a splendid job, despite Gav squirming the whole time. Snug, dark trousers accentuated Gav’s long legs and his long-sleeved shirt had a plunging neckline that rivaled Clive’s own. But it was the velvet waistcoat that did it for him. The dark royal blue really brought out the green in Gav’s eye and the cut flattered his trim waist and other… assets.

He licked his lips, “You look…”

“Like Farmer Lord Gav from Snowbird Hollow?”

The way he said it hurt Clive’s heart. He moved close, one hand reaching out to cup Gav’s cheek. “Handsome. Breathtaking. And yes, like Farmer Lord Gav from Snowbird Hollow, because there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

Gav’s mouth opened then closed, cheeks turning pink. He leaned into Clive’s hand, “M’sorry. Being silly, huh.”

“Not at all,” He drew Gav close, kissing him gently. He’d been born into this privileged existence and still felt out of place in it. He had a healthy appreciation for how much more overwhelming it’d be for someone born outside of it.

After they parted, Gav’s deft fingers swiftly closed the brass buttons on Clive’s own waistcoat, also velvet but a deep red instead of blue. “You’re lookin’ mighty fine yourself, Clive.”

They kissed again, this time with a little more heat. Clive was just starting to fancy skipping dinner and having Gav instead when the blonde pulled away, wringing a little whimper from Clive’s lips.

Gav laughed softly, thumb tracing over Clive’s lower lip, “Later, love. We’ll have all night.”

Clive sighed but nodded his head. Gav was right, of course. Damn it all.

“…Clive?” Gav was hesitant again.

“Mmn?”

“I know we’re supposed t’ wait until the party for gifts, but your gift is kind of… unwieldy. Byron gonna mind if I give it to you now?”

“Of course not, my boy!” Clive heard Byron’s jovial response so clearly in his mind it was like his uncle was standing in the room with them, “He won’t mind at all.”

Wondering what this unwieldy gift could be, Clive watched as Gav crossed the room and pulled what looked like something very long and very heavy wrapped in green fabric and tied with gold ribbon from the closet.

“Where—” Clive spluttered as Gav sauntered over, depositing his gift on the bed. It was so heavy it made the mattress bounce. “You didn’t bring that with us, did you…!?” It been hard enough keeping his considerably smaller gifts out of Gav’s sight the entire journey. Where had he been hiding this?

Gav was looking proud of himself, “When you told me Byron invited us to Port Isolde for Yule I had it sent here after it was finished. Told Byron it was coming and it arrived by chocobo cart a few days before we did.”

Clive groaned faintly, he wished he’d thought of that.

“Go on, then,” Gav chirped. “Open it.”

Clive undid the ribbon and unwrapped the fabric.

Father’s greatsword!? Was his first confused thought. But no, his father’s blade was long gone. He knew that. This greatsword was newly forged. It just looked exactly like—

“Had Joshua sketch it from memory,” Gav said softly. “Blackthorne forged it, of course.”

Clive swallowed hard. His chest suddenly tight. He ran his fingers reverently down the hilt and over the flat side of the shining blade.

“Gav, I—” His tongue felt heavy. An overwhelming wave of tenderness toward Gav rolled over him. Tears began to spill down his cheeks.

Vaguely through the barrage of his emotions, he heard Gav frantically apologizing and moved quickly to reassure him.

“No, Gav, don’t apologize…” He took Gav’s hands in his, kissing the backs, his knuckles, the long fingers, “I love it. Thank-you.”

Gav’s arms wrapped securely around him, but his expression was still uncertain, “You sure? If I overstepped—"

“I love it,” He repeated firmly, nuzzling into Gav’s neck, kissing it. “I love you,” He nipped at the skin beneath his lips.

“Love you too, but don’t you leave a mark on me right now, Clive Rosfield.” Gav chuckled weakly, still a little shaken by Clive’s reaction to his gift.

Thwarted again. Clive contented himself with pressing another kiss to Gav’s neck before releasing him. He propped his new blade against the wall in the corner of the room, admiring it briefly before taking Gav by the hand. It was time for dinner.

❆ ❆ ❆

There were only nine of them present, ten including Torgal fervently chewing on a bone in the corner, but dinner was still going to be a noisy affair. Joshua could scarcely hear his own thoughts. Eudora and Byron were the loudest by far, followed by the twins, who Joshua suspected were already a bit tipsy. The wine had been flowing freely. Clive was the quietest, murmuring to Gav, who was looking overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cutlery around his plate.

“Dinner is courtesy of Gav!” Byron announced as the staff began to file in carrying dishes and platters. “Saved the whole Yule feast, he did!”

Gav’s cheeks flushed bright red and he took a hasty gulp of wine. Joshua gave him a smile and his knee an encouraging pat. His brother, sitting on Gav’s other side, did the same.

The food flowed in faster than the wine. Heaps of garlic roasted potatoes, mashed parsnips, tossed gysahl greens, glazed carrots (contrary to popular belief, no longer Joshua’s mortal enemy), thick slices of freshly baked bread, dressed eggs, peas and onions swimming in butter, and of course the boar, roasted to crackling perfection.

Joshua’s mouth watered. Molly, the Hideaway’s cook, did a fine enough job when she put her mind to it, but it’d been a long time since he’d had anything that wasn’t some type of stew or soup. He piled his plate with a bit of everything and asked for a refill on his wine. Clive tossed a generous slice of boar meat to Torgal.

Gav accidentally used the wrong fork for the boar. Joshua and Clive used a randomly chosen fork in solidarity. Joshua chose the dessert fork, imagining the look on his mother’s face if she could see him now.

No. Joshua’s lips pressed firmly together. He was enjoying this evening. He wasn’t going to sour it with thoughts of her.

A foot nudged at Joshua’s under the table and he couldn’t decide if it was Kasir, Chiara, or Melia. All three were giving him the eye from across the table. If he’d been a betting man, he’d put his gil on one of the twins. They had already ambushed him beneath the winterberry hung over the entranceway to the dining hall, sandwiching him between them as they each pressed a kiss to one cheek. Chaos and Menace indeed.

❆ ❆ ❆

Dinner had been for family only, but Byron and Eugen had decided to invite a handful of people to the Yule party. Some of their oldest friends who could be trusted not to harass Clive and Joshua and a few musicians to play, as the twins at the very least would want to dance.

Byron lips twitched in a sympathetic smile as Chiara twirled Joshua around the parlor. His poor nephew was one of the youngest, eligible (at least, Byron thought so, though he did wonder who the hairbrushes were for…) lads there, thus he’d been called upon to dance with Chiara, her sister, and even Kasir time and again. Even some of Byron and Eugen’s friends had coaxed a dance out of him.

Clive remained as tightly coiled as was appropriate in public around Gav, his grim expression meant to scare off anyone who wanted to dance. He’d only consented to dance with Eudora earlier in the evening.

A hand slid into his and Byron looked over to see Eugen standing beside him, smiling as Joshua bowed politely to Chiara and excused himself to hide in a shadowy nook with a cup of wine for a moment.

“This has been wonderful,” he said.

Byron’s heart swelled. That was exactly what he’d been hoping for, “It has.”

“…Would you care to dance?” Eugen asked quietly, gruffly, looking for all the world like the embarrassed teenager who’d asked Byron to kiss him in the garden once many years ago.

“I’d love to, darling.”

Eugen’s hand found the small of his back and he put his own hand Eugen’s shoulder as they slowly glided about the room. Melia walked by them, her gaze firmly set upon Joshua, when Gav smoothly intercepted her, holding one hand out.

“A dance, m’lady?” He asked with a grin.

“I’d be delighted, sir!” She giggled, taking Gav’s hand.

Byron chuckled when he saw his nephew mouth “thank-you” with a grateful sigh.

❆ ❆ ❆

Clive sat on one of the lounge sofas watching Gav dance with Melia, his stomach twisting. It wasn’t jealousy, but nerves making him squirm. He’d retrieved his gift for Gav from under one of the Yule trees, anxiously twisting the ribbon tied about the package around and around his finger as he waited.

Gav had recruited Joshua and Blackthorne to forge his father’s greatsword for him. It seemed they were on the same page in regard to their relationship. So, his gift, wanting to show Gav he was part of their family, wasn’t too much, right?

He turned his gaze and his mind to his uncle instead, trying to distract himself. He smiled as he watched Byron and Eugen dance by the musicians. He hadn’t been sure about Eugen at first, but as the day went on he saw the man beneath the brisk surface. The man who loved Byron dearly. The man Byron had waited decades for.

Clive looked back at Gav, his nerves softening into adoration, relieved he hadn’t had to wait as long for Gav. He would’ve, if he had to, but glad he hadn’t needed to.

The musicians changed to something a little more upbeat. Byron and Eugen continued to dance, and a few of their friends and Eudora joined, but Melia and Gav parted, her curtsying and him giving her a deep bow.

“Had to give poor Joshua a breather. Looked like the lad was going t’ pass out.” Gav said as he rejoined Clive on the lounge, stealing a sip of Clive’s wine.

“Better you than me,” Clive chuckled.

“I thought you were my shield, brother.” Joshua teased as he stepped up behind the lounge.

“You’re not in danger, Joshua.”

“Easy for you to say,” His brother replied. Chiara was now eyeing him from across the parlor. “Your feet aren’t at risk of being danced right off, and you’ve Gav to protect you.”

“He protected you, too.”

“True. Thank-you, Gav.”

The blonde chuckled, “Ah, don’t mention it.”

It was then that Joshua noticed the gift his older brother was clutching in his hands, “Well, I’m going to refill my wine and hide in the library for a while. Wish me luck, gentlemen.”

“Luck,” Gav and Clive said in unison as Joshua walked off.

They sat in silence for a few moments, sharing sips from Clive’s wine, before he finally worked up the courage to set the gift in Gav’s lap.

“Happy Yule, Gav.”

“Aw, Clive,” Gav pulled the ribbon off and unfolded the fabric. He let out a quiet, appreciative whistle when he saw the cloak inside. “No more freezing my arse off on watch—” His eye fell upon the cloak pin and picked it up as though it was made of glass.

Clive held his breath. Waited. He knew Gav, clever and observant, would understand the significance of the pin. He would’ve seen the matching pins on his and Joshua’s cloaks before.

“…This revenge for me makin’ you cry earlier?” Gav asked softly.

Clive huffed an equally soft laugh, moving close to wrap his arm around the blonde’s waist. “No. It’s an offer, and a promise.”

Gav looked at him, his face unreadable. Clive’s heart skipped a beat.

Then he leaned in, pressing a brief, chaste kiss to his lips, making Clive all but melt with relief. “Thank-you, love,” He fastened the pin to his new cloak, smoothing the leather around it. “It’ll look good on me.”

“It will,” Clive agreed, heart soaring. He felt like he could float right off the lounge.

Gav smiled thoughtfully, “Y’know, when I first joined the Hideaway all I wanted was a family. Now I’ve got two. I’m spoiled, me.”

“But I’ll spoil you more than Otto will,” Byron stage whispered as he and Eugen danced by.

“Don’t be rude, dear. They’re having a moment.” Eugen lightly admonished.

“It was not rude—”

Clive and Gav chuckled together as Byron and Eugen danced away again, bickering in the loving way they did.

“And I’ll spoil you more than Otto or Byron will,” Clive murmured. “There’s three more gifts waiting for you…”

“Hells, Clive, you weren’t kidding.” Gav laughed.

No one was looking. Clive snuck in a quick line of kisses up the side of Gav’s neck, his gaze still on Byron and Eugen.

“I want that to be us.” The words just popped out and Clive blushed, realizing what he’d said, but he didn’t take it back. He meant it.

Gav looked at him, smirking slightly. “The bickering or the dancing?”

“Older… together.”

The blonde’s expression softened and he looked down at his gift, fingers tracing the design on the pin. “…I like the sound of that.”

Oh, if only they weren’t in a room full of his uncle’s guests. He wanted to kiss every last inch of Gav.

“Would you like to dance while we’re growing old together?” He asked. It’d have to do until he had Gav to himself.

Gav smiled and stood up, holding his hand out to him, “Love to.”

❆ ❆ ❆

The party was over. Byron and Eugen bundled their friends, all in various stages of inebriation, into their carriages to send them safely home. Clive had to help Kasir carry Chiara and Melia to bed, both sisters too drunk and exhausted to walk. Eudora, also a little tipsy, affectionately pinched Clive on the cheek as thanks before tottering off to bed herself. Byron and Eugen followed soon after. Gav lightly ruffled Joshua’s hair and planted a kiss on the top of Clive’s head before he also sleepily weaved away, leaving Clive and Joshua in the parlor.

The brothers sat together in a couple of wooden chairs facing toward the fireplace. The flames were low but provided enough light and heat that neither of them bothered to move to add more wood. Torgal lay on the rug in front of the hearth, gnawing on what was left of his bone.

Clive was tired, but not as tired as Joshua had to be. Hiding in the library had granted him a small reprieve, but it’d only been half an hour before the twins had found him again. He and Gav had taken a few turns diverting their attention with dances, but it seemed their appetite for Joshua was insatiable.

“I believe my toes have fallen off…” Joshua groaned, pulling one of his boots off so he could massage his foot. “I can’t remember the last time I danced…”

“I can’t remember the last time I celebrated Yule.”

Silence fell between them as they realized the answer together. Before the Night of Flames, of course. A night that simultaneously felt like it was yesterday and centuries ago.

Joshua pulled his other boot off, fingers working at his calf muscle. “How different things could have been if—" He cut himself off, sharply shaking his head, massaging his lower leg a little more aggressively than necessary.

Clive’s mouth twisted bitterly. He knew what Joshua was thinking, because he’d thought it himself a time or two that evening. If only their mother had been someone like Eudora, a woman they’d known for considerably less time, but already adored so much more.

“No,” His younger brother said, more to himself than Clive. “I promised I wouldn’t sour this night.”

“You haven’t—”

Joshua cut him off this time, “For you, dear brother.”

He stood from his chair and dragged a large wooden trunk over to Clive. It seemed Gav hadn’t been the only one with the foresight to send a cumbersome gift ahead of time. He’d have to remember that for next year…

Joshua sat down again with an exhausted sigh as Clive lifted the trunk’s lid to peer inside.

“I know many will consider it a sin, to cover up your chest, but I’ll sleep better knowing your heart is better protected.”

New armor lay within the trunk. Greaves and gauntlets made from dark metal. A chest piece with thick black leather cut in the shape of flames and layered over a metal bodice that glimmered red here and there. It would indeed cover his chest.

“You and Gav have been keeping Blackthorne busy, I see…” Clive murmured, lifting the chest piece out of the trunk, looking it over wonderingly.

“An unfortunate side effect of caring about you.” Joshua replied with a tired chuckle.

“Thank-you, Joshua.”

“You’re most welcome, brother.”

Joshua drained the last of his wine, head lolling back against the chair behind him. Clive didn’t think his brother even heard him get up as he retrieved a bundle from beneath the nearest Yule tree.

“This is from both Gav and I,” Clive set Joshua’s gift in his lap, startling him out of his half-asleep state.

Stifling a yawn, Joshua untied the ribbon and opened the package. Inside he found four thick stacks of bound, blank paper, three ink pots, and three chocobo-feather quills.

He brightened, picking up one of the quills and admiring the tiny, intricate carvings in the wooden shaft. “Gav made these! I’ve been wanting to ask him to make me one ever since I saw the quill he made for Harpocrates.”

Clive nodded, “Ambrosia donated the feathers. Voluntarily, mind you.”

“Thank-you, Clive. This is a fine gift. Thank Gav, too.”

“I will.”

Joshua yawned again and pulled his boots back on, taking a few tries to do it in his exhaustion. Gathering his gift in his arms, he stood from his chair.

“…I am going to bed. If I never see another musician again it will be too soon. Come along, Torgal.”

Clive chuckled, “Goodnight, Joshua.” He rubbed Torgal behind his ears, “Goodnight, boy.”

“Until tomorrow, Clive.”

Joshua left the parlor with Torgal trailing close behind and Clive stretched, his back creaking faintly, before standing up as well. He tucked his gift from Joshua safely beside a Yule tree and made sure the flames in the fireplace were out before heading down the hall to the guest room he shared with Gav.

Clive was mid-yawn when he entered, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. All thoughts of sleep instantly fled from his mind. Gav was posed on the bed, stark naked, with a ribbon delicately wrapped and tied with a neat little bow around his—

“Surprise,” Gav looked very pleased with himself. “Got you more than one gift, too.”

Clive locked the door and beelined for the bed, shedding his clothes as fast as he could.

---

I'll let y'all decide who Joshua bought the hairbrushes for, and if they're platonic or romantic lol

#final fantasy #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #clive rosfield #gav #ff16 gav #joshua rosfield #byron rosfield #eugen havel #clive x gav #byron x eugen #christmas fic #christmas fluff #also christmas angst #but mostly christmas fluff #implied christmas banging #schmooples fic

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