“How about we chop down our Christmas tree?” Brogan asked, voice warm and mischievous.
Archie grinned. “Now?”
“Yeah, now. Then we can decorate it. Make it ours.”
Archie raised an eyebrow. “I guess we’re taking your van?”
Brogan nodded. “We’ll need to tie it down. Plus, room for ornaments. And snacks. Obviously.”
Chapter Two
Archie
The drive out tothe tree grove was quiet, just the hum of the heater and Brogan’s hand resting on Archie’s thigh like it belonged there. Archie stared out the window, watching the frost blur the edges of the world, as something soft settled in his chest. He’d never done this before. Never had a real tree. His dad stopped decorating after his mom died, and holidays became something Archie learned to ignore.
But this felt different.
They jumped out of the van, greeted the owner, and were handed axes and a saw. Archie held it awkwardly, unsure if he was supposed to feel festive or worried. Brogan, of course, looked like he’d been born for this. He was grinning, bouncing on his feet, and already scanning the grove like it was a treasure hunt.
They wandered through rows of evergreens, stopping here and there. Archie pointed to a smaller one, something neat and manageable.
Brogan squinted. “Too small. We need something dramatic.”
Archie rolled his eyes but kept walking. He didn’t mind letting Brogan take the lead. He enjoyed watching him in his element—decisive, joyful, a little ridiculous.
Then Brogan stopped and placed his hand on a tall, full pine. “I feel like this is the one for us. Do you like it?”
Archie stared up at it. “It’s huge.”
Brogan turned to him, eyes bright. “Perfect, right?”
Archie nodded, heart thudding. “Yeah. Perfect.”
They took turns swinging the axe, laughing when it got stuck or when Brogan broke into a Christmas song in Gaelic, voice echoing through the trees. Archie didn’t understand the words, but he understood the feeling—warmth, belonging—love.
Before they picked up the tree, Brogan pulled Archie behind a wide pine and kissed him slowly, hands tangled in Archie’shair, breath fogging in the cold. Archie kissed back like he meant it, because he did. He was so in love with Brogan it scared him sometimes. But right now, it just felt good.
They carried the tree to the road, paid the owner, and tied it to the van with way too much twine. Brogan insisted on double knots. Archie just watched him, heart full.
“Let’s bring it home,” Brogan said, brushing snow off Archie’s shoulder. “Then we’ll go out and get lights and bulbs. Make it shine.”
Archie smiled, fingers laced with Brogan’s. “Let’s make it ours.”
And just like that, Christmas didn’t feel like something Archie had missed out on. It felt like something he was finally building. One kiss, one tree, one moment at a time.
They got the tree home with only minor chaos—Brogan insisted on backing the van into the driveway at a dramatic angle, and Archie nearly lost his footing trying to untie the twine. The pine was massive, awkward, and perfect. It took both of them to carry it inside, laughing as they bumped into doorframes and knocked into the coat hooks on the wall, leaving two sweaters on the floor.
“Watch the lamp!” Archie called, half-laughing, half-panicked.
Brogan grinned. “The lamp loves danger.”
Once they got it standing, slightly crooked, but charmingly so, Brogan stepped back, hands on his hips. “We did it.”
Archie looked at the tree, then at Brogan. “We’re ridiculous.”
Brogan turned to him, eyes soft. “Ridiculously festive.”
Archie rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. His heart felt full in a way he wasn’t used to. This was his first real tree. His first real Christmas, honestly. And Brogan was making it feel likesomething out of a movie—one of the good ones, the kind with messy kitchens and slow kisses and people who actually stayed.
