Work Text:
Ed fucking hated doing the Christmas tree shift.
First off, it was fucking freezing. It didn’t matter how many pairs of socks he wore, his feet somehow managed to get sweaty and frozen simultaneously. The cold crept up from the ground, through the soles of his boots, through 3 pairs of slightly damp socks, up his legs and right into his bones.
Second, he was always starving by the end, stomach rumbling while the scent of Roach’s stall wafted over and people walked by stuffing their faces with sweet treats. Oh, Ed always ate a sandwich before he started - one of those supermarket ones that were supposed to be ‘festive’ and ended up just being sad - but it didn’t exactly hit the spot. And then, to add insult to injury, the rest of the Christmas market closed down before the tree shift ended, and Ed had to trudge home, treatless.
Third, the fucking music. It was piped in, echoing tinnily from the speakers overhead, an eternal merry go round of festive hits. Ed didn’t mind Christmas music, he quite liked some of the more rock-y ones, but hearing the same songs, over and over again, was driving him loopy. They get stuck in his head, the same snippets replaying endlessly, until he finds himself murmuring the lyrics to Santa Baby even though he fucking hates that song.
So here he is, stomping his feet to try and generate some heat, watching enviously as a couple walk past eating churros, humming tunelessly to himself.
… slip a sable under the tree, for me…
A sable sounds pretty fucking nice right now actually, even though Ed doesn’t really approve of wearing fur. Maybe a vintage one, where the sable has been dead for 50 years already. That’s probably really warm, being swaddled up in a fur coat, soft hairs brushing your face. Ed looks over to where Fang is doing his usual stellar job acting jolly for the punters, except it’s not even an act for him, he’s just genuinely that sweet and festive. He’s showing a young couple a 6ft spruce, explaining about the low needle drop and the long-lasting fragrance. Ed should really be trying to catch his own customers, smiling a bit and inviting them over to look over the trees, but he’s not in the mood, he can’t make his face turn into the appropriate expression.
So Ed lurks over in the rows of pine, enjoying the smell of the resin and rubbing his fingers back and forth over the needles. The texture of it is peaceful, grounding him amongst the hustle and bustle of the market. The music isn’t so loud over here either, slightly muffled by the trees, so Ed’s mind feels clearer. Maybe he’ll make himself a proper dinner tonight, when he gets home, something hot and filling, not just whatever leftovers he finds in the fridge. And he’s got a new kind of bubble bath, he could use that and have a warm bath and -
“Excuse me!”
Shit, a customer is waving at him. Ed tries to hide behind the nearest tree, but the guy keeps waving. Ed shuffles reluctantly into view.
“Um, hi, yes, we’d like to buy this tree, please!”
The guy is gesturing to a sorry looking specimen that Ed presumed he was going to have to throw into the chipper later.
“Really?” Ed catches himself, because a sale is a sale, after all, “I mean, great, but, um, why this one?”
The guy grins. He’s got blond hair and a big fluffy coat in a violent shade of turquoise. He gestures at the two kids standing next to him.
“My children feel sorry for it. And I do too. I think it just needs some tender loving care, a few baubles, and it’ll be perfect.”
Ed raises a sceptical eyebrow. Cut fir trees aren’t pets, they can’t be rehabilitated into better specimens. This one is already missing half its needles and is shaped more like a banana than the traditional pyramid. But the guy is just standing there, grinning expectantly, so Ed shrugs, and beckons Fang over to help.
–
They get the tree through the netter after a bit of wrangling - the tree is scraggly but still nearly 7ft tall - and Ed offers to take it to blond guy’s car.
“Ah, no, thank you, we’re walking. I’ll come and pick it up once we’re done.”
“What,” Ed starts, “you’re gonna just carry it home?”
“Yup.” Blondie pops the end of the word, rocking back and forth on his expensive leather shoes. “Can’t be that difficult.”
“Whatever, man, just be back before closing. We shut down at 9.”
“They play the same songs here a lot, don’t they?”
Ed pauses from wrestling the netted tree into the corner of the fence. He looks over at fluffy-coat and frowns.
“Wait, where did your kids go?”
The guy glances around himself, briefly.
“Shit. Oh, they went with their mother, I expect.”
“You expect?”
Blondie bristles.
“Yes, well, their mother and her boyfriend are here too, and they are old enough not to get lost. Alma has her own phone these days!”
“Oh.” Ed feels sheepish. “Sorry, mate. Hard to tell how old kids are sometimes.”
“That’s alright…sorry, didn’t catch your name?”
“Ed.” Ed blurts. “My name is Ed.”
“Stede.” Blondie extends a hand, and Ed grasps it. Stede’s hand is warm, and soft, and his grip is firm but not like he’s trying to make a power play, just like he’s actually just really strong underneath that fluffy coat.
“Wow, your hands are freezing, Ed!”
Ed tries to snatch his hand back, feeling self-conscious, but Stede holds onto it, covering it with both of his. Ed’s wearing gloves, of course, to protect his skin from the tree needles as much as anything else, but the tips of his fingers are exposed to the elements. And yeah, the press of his cold skin against Stede’s warm palms does draw attention to it. Ed watches as Stede rubs his hands gently over Ed’s frozen fingers.
“So doesn’t it bother you, the music?”
Ed shrugs, noncommittally.
“Well, it bothers me, and I’ve only been here five minutes! Couldn’t they mix it up a bit? It’s the same songs over and over!”
Right on cue, Santa Baby starts up again. Ed feels his heart rate picking up with each ‘ba-boom’ of the intro.
“Hate this one,” Ed mutters.
“Mmm,” Stede hums, “it is a bit odd, having a Christmas song about wanting to fuck Santa.”
Ed splutters, before bursting out laughing. Stede watches him, grinning.
“It’s not about wanting to fuck Santa! She just wants him to bring her all that stuff!” Ed protests.
“Come on, Ed! ‘Come and trim my Christmas tree’? That’s a euphemism if ever I heard one.”
Ed giggles.
“I’ll trim your tree, mate,” he drawls, adding a saucy wink.
Stede leans into him.
“Would you polish my baubles?” he murmurs.
Ed leans back into Stede.
“And tug on your tinsel.”
Stede raises an eyebrow, his cheeks flushing pink.
“Oh, yeah? Are you a tinsel tugger, Ed?”
“Some might say that. I love a bit of a tug on the old tinsel.”
Stede suddenly pulls a solemn face.
“But, Ed, think of the mess,” Stede implores, “once you’re finished tugging, the little shiny bits will have ejaculated everywhere.”
Ed breaks, doubling over and pressing his face into Stede’s shoulder as he howls with laughter. He tries to catch his breath against the fluff of Stede’s coat, before realising that he’s leaning his full body weight on a total stranger, and that the total stranger is still clasping his hand. Ed straightens up, hiccuping slightly.
“Um, anyway,” he coughs, self-consciously, “might need my hand back now.”
“Oh!” Stede glances down, “Right! Yes, of course!”
Stede drops Ed’s hand like a hot potato. They stand there awkwardly, just looking at each other for a minute while Eartha Kitt’s husky voice crackles from the speakers.
…think of all the fun I've missed / think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed…
Ed’s been good as gold this year, though not through any choice of his own. He can’t remember the last time he had a decent kiss. Stede’s lips look nice. Soft. Moisturised. Kissable. Stede is looking at Ed’s lips too, glancing at them as he fiddles with the sleeve of his coat. The moment is suddenly interrupted by a loud gurgling from Ed’s stomach.
“Oh!” Stede looks up, “Are you hungry, Ed?”
“Nah, ‘m fine.” Ed flaps a hand dismissively, “Had a sandwich a few hours ago.”
Stede eyes him sceptically, but doesn’t push it.
“I’d better go, I promised the kids I’d buy them a hot chocolate before they leave.”
Ed is surprised at the sinking disappointment he feels settle over him. Stede is a customer. Customers leave. They go home, they put up their Christmas tree and they don’t think about the guy who sold it to them ever again. The circle of life, or something. Whatever.
But Stede hasn’t moved, he’s still looking at Ed with a small frown on his face. Is Ed supposed to say something right now? Something like please don’t leave, I like you a lot and you smell nice and you make me feel safe . Yeah, great way to send the guy running, off to tell everyone about the fucking weirdo who runs the tree stand. Ed curls his toes in his boots self-consciously.
“So, I’ll come back later? To pick up the tree?”
Oh, right, yeah. Ed glances over to where the tree is propped. It’s leaning precariously to the side, top branches curving towards the ground. There’s no way Stede is getting a star to stay on the top of this one.
“Yeah, sure, mate.” Ed clears his throat. “We close at 9, after the rest of the market.”
Stede nods. “Great. Oh, and is there somewhere to get lights for it 'round here?”
“Yeah, Wee John’s stall is just over that way,” Ed nods in the general direction. “You can’t miss it, he’s covered the whole thing in LED candles. Bloody thing looks like it’s on fire.”
Stede grins. “Thanks, Ed. I’ll be back later. For the tree.”
“For the tree,” Ed repeats stupidly.
Stede pulls his fluffy coat tighter around himself, shoots Ed a cheeky wink and walks off into the crowd milling around the market.
Ed is left staring after him, feeling warmed to his core.
–
“Ed!”
Ed looks up from sweeping pine needles into a neat little pile. The rest of the market is dark now, lights turned off, stalls packed up and music finally silent. Ed enjoys the respite from it all, the peace and quiet, even if he is desperate to get home and get something to eat. But, now Stede is barrelling towards him in a flurry of turquoise fake fur and blond floppy curls.
“I brought you something!”
Stede comes to a halt in front of Ed. He’s got a large pile of…something cradled in his arms.
“I wasn’t sure what toppings you’d like, so I got you a bit of everything. I hope that’s ok?”
Stede is eyeing Ed uncertainly, as if waiting for an answer, but Ed is distracted by the delicious smell, sweet and warm and drifting on the air towards him.
“Oh shit, are those waffles? From Roach’s?”
Stede grins.
“Yes! I got you the large cinnamon dessert special with chocolate chips, brownie pieces, peanut butter cups, maple syrup, fudge drizzle and whipped cream. Oh, and rainbow sprinkles.”
Stede’s grin falters.
“Oh fuck, unless you don’t like sweet things, I took a bit of a gamble, sorry if it’s too much, I can just -”
Ed cuts him off with a hand to his arm.
“Mate, It’s perfect. I always wanted to try the dessert special. And all the extra toppings as well? Fucking brilliant.”
Stede is back to smiling again, eyes crinkling adorably. God, he’s cute.
“You didn’t have to though. I mean, you didn’t have to get all this for me.” Ed says, glancing down at his boots, suddenly feeling shy.
“I know.” Stede murmurs softly. “But I was hungry, and the waffles smelled so good, and then I remembered that you were probably hungry, so I thought, why not bring some for my friend Ed?”
My friend. Ed feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t have any friends, not really. Is Stede his friend? Even though he’s a customer, and he only met him a few hours ago, and he’s clearly a lunatic. Fortunately, Ed likes lunatics. Especially when they’re cute. He hesitantly returns Stede’s smile.
“Thanks, mate, I appreciate it.” He nods over at the couple of lawn chairs where him and Fang take their breaks. “You wanna share?”
–
Ed could get used to this.
Their chairs are pulled close together, Stede close enough that his leg presses against Ed’s. Stede’s warmth radiates from him, enough for Ed to forget entirely about the cold. The tray of waffles is balanced between them, half on each of their thighs, and they giggle as they take turns to scoop up the sticky, gooey mess. The little wooden sporks that came with the dessert are far too small for them to get a decent mouthful, so they use chunks of the waffles as edible cutlery. Ed’s mouth is full, his teeth stuck with chunks of peanut butter and brownie, and he can’t stop laughing, he’s so full of bubbling excitement and joy. Stede is chewing with a big smile on his face, looking thoughtfully at Ed with those sparkly eyes of his.
“What do you want from Santa, Ed?”
Ed swallows in surprise. “Huh?”
“Well, the woman in that song, she wants all those things from Santa. What do you want?”
“Don’t believe in Santa.” Ed mutters, picking at a chocolate chip.
“Me neither,” Stede shrugs, “but humour me. You must want something.”
You , pops into Ed’s head, unbidden.
“Massive dildo, prob’ly.”
Stede keeps a straight face, merely raising his eyebrows.
“Exactly how massive are we talking, Ed?”
“Oh,” Ed affects a breezy tone, “at least as big as my arm. Maybe even bigger.”
“Really? Will it, um, fit ?”
Ed purses his lips together, determined to stop his laughter escaping. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.
“Oh, it’s not for me to use. ‘M gonna put it up in the living room, add some decorations, put the presents underneath. Fucking sick of Christmas trees.”
It’s Stede’s turn to break now, spluttering helplessly as the laughter bursts out of him. Ed watches him with a smile on his face, feeling inordinately pleased with himself. Stede clutches his stomach, taking gasping breaths and wheezing before leaning back in his chair. He looks over at Ed, hazel eyes flashing, and Ed doesn’t quite know how it happens but suddenly they’re kissing. Ed has his hand pressed on Stede’s firm thigh, stomach squashed against the arm of the lawn chair as he leans over. Stede’s lips are soft, and warm, and Stede is making little groaning noises, his hand buried deep in Ed’s hair. Ed feels ravenous, working Stede’s mouth open with his tongue and tasting chocolate.
They part just as suddenly, Ed holding Stede’s jaw cupped in his hand.
“Ed.”
Stede’s gaze is travelling over Ed’s face, as if searching for the answer to a question he hasn’t asked. Their lips meet again, and Ed’s hungry, so hungry, wanting more, more, more. Their tongues slide together, hands roaming over each others’ bodies through the layers of their clothes. Ed manages to cop a feel underneath Stede’s coat, groping his chest as best he can over his jumper, while Stede moans into his mouth. Stede has his hand at the waistband of Ed’s jeans, fingers teasing against the small strip of Ed’s exposed skin. He seems to gain courage at Ed’s dreamy humming, slipping his fingers down until his palm meets the flesh of Ed’s backside. Ed kisses Stede harder, and Stede squeezes .
Ed wrenches his mouth away.
“D’you want -” he pants, “d’you wanna - go somewhere?” Ed gestures around at their surroundings. “More...private?”
–
Which is how Ed ends up standing half-hidden amongst the rows of Christmas trees with Stede on his knees in front of him.
There’s no one else around, the rows of chalet stalls that make up the rest of the market are all dark and shut up for the night. Security won’t be arriving to lock up for a while yet, but Ed still darts his eyes around nervously as Stede fiddles with his belt.
“Fuck, I can’t, Ed -”
Ed looks down to where Stede is struggling with the clasp. Oh yeah, he’s wearing his biggest, most ridiculous silver skull belt buckle today. Ed has to demonstrate how to lift it just so, unhooking it and drawing the leather through. Stede’s eager fingers are back right away, working the button of his jeans.
Within seconds, Ed feels the freezing night air against the delicate skin of his cock, but the sensation is quickly replaced by the warmth of Stede’s mouth. Ed groans, tilting his head back and scrunching his eyes shut as Stede runs his lips all the way down his shaft, meeting the base without so much as gagging. Ed can feel the flat of Stede’s tongue working as he holds him there, lips stretched tight around him. Ed brings a hand down to Stede’s hair, just resting it in the softness of his curls, while Stede tongues him until he’s hard enough to fucking hammer nails.
“ Fuuuck , Stede -” Ed gasps out.
Just when he starts to question whether Stede actually needs to breathe at all, or whether he could deep-throat him for hours, Stede pulls back, taking Ed’s spit-slick cock in his fist and pumping it slowly. Ed lowers his head, opening his eyes to find Stede sitting back on his heels with a smug expression on his face. His lips are swollen, his eyes blown wide.
“Shall I keep going?” Stede asks, in a slightly husky voice.
Ed nods vigorously.
Stede crooks a smile, then takes Ed’s cock back into his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he bobs his head. Ed’s fingers scrabble in the branches of the tree behind him, trying to find something, anything to hold on to, to stop himself from flying away. Stede’s mouth is warm, and wet, and he’s got just the right amount of suction, and Ed’s cock is bumping the back of his throat as he takes him deep, and -
“‘M not gonna last,” Ed warns, “Fuck, man -”
But Stede simply hums around him, sending vibrations down to the ends of his toes and heat to the tips of his ears. He’s got his eyes shut tight now, still bobbing his head with an expression of pure bliss on his face. Ed can see Stede’s hand working between his own legs, touching himself as he takes Ed apart with his mouth and fuck , Ed has to bite the back of his hand as he comes to stop himself from howling. His whole body goes rigid, muscles tensing and vision whiting out as he spills into Stede’s mouth. Stede doesn’t let up, he keeps the suction on his cock as he swallows him down, eventually releasing him with a gasp. Ed watches in a daze as Stede hunches over and pumps his fist, coming in stripes on the wood chips by his feet. He looks up, panting, skin flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, and Ed thinks he’s never seen anything so beautiful.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and Stede flushes even deeper.
Ed goes to help Stede up, realises he’s still clutching a fistful of pine needles and shakes them off his hand before pulling Stede to his feet. They glance at each other shyly as they tuck themselves away, giggling as Stede tries to find somewhere to wipe his hand and has to use a nearby Norway spruce.
“So, I should probably -” Stede gestures over to where his tree is slumped awkwardly against the railings.
Right. This is the part where Stede leaves. Takes his tree home, decorates it with his kids, forgets all about Ed. Even if he did suck his soul out through his dick. Stede probably does that all the time. No big deal. Ed needs to get a hold of himself, but Stede is still standing there, looking at him.
“Do you need help? Getting the tree home? It’s just earlier, you said -”
Stede flaps his hand.
“Oh no, it’s fine. I can manage. I do need some help though.” Stede takes a step towards him.
“Yeah?” Ed croaks.
“Yeah. My tree is in desperate need of trimming, and I need a professional to show me how it’s done.”
Stede is close enough now that Ed can feel his warm breath on his face. He smells like cinnamon waffles and Ed’s come and Ed really, really wants to kiss him again.
“I could do that. I could, trim your tree. If you like.” Ed makes his eyes all big as he looks up under his eyelashes at Stede.
“Yeah?” Stede whispers. “I’d like that, very much.”
“Yeah, I’ll, um, I’ll throw in the bauble polishing for free, even.”
Stede’s eyebrows raise up to his hairline.
“Really? Would you come down my chimney?”
Ed smirks.
“Already did, mate.”
They both emit a high-pitched squeaking, like air being released from a balloon, before collapsing into giggles. Stede straightens up first, wiping tears from his eyes.
“C’mon, darling, let’s go home.”
Stede holds out his arm, crooked at the elbow, and Ed takes it.
Maybe the Christmas tree shift isn’t so bad after all.
–
THE END