Baby Please Come Home

A/N: just want to say before I begin that Josh Ramsay's cover of this song is five thousand times better than any other version and you should listen to it because you will cry. Also this is for Eve's (americancandy.) winter/Christmas songfic contest. Happy Holidays.

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To John, Alex was always "the One." It was cheesy, but they had grown up in the same small town together. Ever since they were children, they were inseparable. In high school they realized they were more than friends. While you'd think that people in a small town would be close-minded on such things, (and, granted, some of them were) the people that mattered were happy for John and Alex and fully supported their relationship. They were together all through high school, went to the community college together, and lived with each other after that. Alex had been the only person John ever loved. He was sure that one day they would get married, start a family, and grow old together. Totally cliche, but totally probable and a-okay with John. Of course he assumed Alex felt the same way.

And, who knows, maybe for a while Alex did feel that way. But one day, when John got home from work and saw Alex sitting at the kitchen table, he knew something was wrong. Alex told him that he was leaving, and that was the day John felt his heart shatter on the floor.

Alex told him he was tired of living in their small town and that he needed to get out. He said he had already found an apartment and a job offer in a city far away. John asked him why he hadn't talked about his sooner, why he was just going to leave him behind. Alex said he needed to start over. John pleaded with him a while longer but got no where. Alex had made up his mind. He was moving to Los Angeles, which was over a thousand miles away. John was practically hysterical, but Alex wouldn't even look him in the eye. Right before he left, he turned to John and said,

"I did love you, John. You have to know that."

Somehow, that wasn't very comforting.

After some more begging from John and less eye contact from Alex, he finally left John sitting on the floor and sobbing.

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It was a long time before John could even function again. He had always had Alex. Alex was the most important person in his life, and always had been, and suddenly he was gone. His friends and family did everything they could to help him, and John really did appreciate it, but it was going to take a long time to heal. Especially when everything reminded him of Alex. But somehow, he got up every day, went to work, came home, and repeated it the next day. Life without Alex wasn't ideal, but it was happening. The longest year of John's life went by, and he survived. And he was ready to survive another one.

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John thought he was finally okay. It had been a year and a half since Alex walked out. Sure, he everything still reminded him of Alex and some nights were still unbearably lonely, but it didn't hurt so much anymore. John liked to think of it as nostalgia that he felt when he thought of him, not heartbreak or anything else. He settled into a quiet but comfortable routine, and he was content.

Then December rolled around. John had been dreading the season all year, because during all the other months he didn't have to think about all the great Christmases he and Alex had celebrated together since they were children. But those were hard memories to suppress when the small town had the same traditions every year, and every year he was taken down memory lane. More like dragged down it. John tried to focus on spending all his time with his family, which was definitely a good thing, but every night when he went back to his apartment it felt more empty than ever. John was pretty sure that he had survived the last Christmas was a Christmas miracle. Thanks, Santa.

Despite all this, John thought he was doing a pretty good job of keeping it together. He had been spending so much time at his parent's house that he hadn't even started decorating his own. All that he had was a small pine tree he had gotten when he was helping his friend pick out his own. He hadn't even gotten out his ornaments yet, and he told himself it wasn't because he was afraid of getting them out and having all the memories come back. But that was totally why.

One night a week before Christmas, John visited Alex's parents, as he often did. He liked being close to them. He had the vague sense that they were using him to replace an Alex-sized hole in their hearts, but he was okay with that. He liked Alex's parents, and if him having dinner with them every month meant they were less lonely, then that was good enough for him. They had gotten to talking about Christmas, and while Alex was a subject they rarely brought up, they talked about all their old Christmas traditions. It was fun to reminisce with the Gaskarths, but by the time John got home he was missing Alex more than ever.

So there he was, all alone in his house, desperately trying to forget his sad, bare Christmas tree and his cold bed. Except those are hard things to forget without a little help, so he had poured himself a little too much alcohol. He sat in his living room, watching the snow silently fall outside. Despite his efforts, one person kept coming back to his mind. He felt his phone in his pocket and tried to resist the urge to call this person. He had done so well recently. Why ruin it now? But all the alcohol in his system flooded his mind, and the damn finally broke. He got it out and typed in a number he hadn't dialed in a long time.

It rang. And rang. And rang. He had lots of chances to hang up. But he didn't, just kept starting at the snow and the neighbor's Christmas lights across the street. Finally, he heard an automated voice tell him to leave a message. Without even thinking, he began to talk.

"Hi, Alex." John paused. He hadn't said that name out loud for a long time. He felt a strange sense of familiarity as it rolled off his tongue. "It's... it's me. John. I don't know if this is even still your number but... Well here I am. Um, it's been a really long time since we talked and I guess... I guess I was just calling to say Merry Christmas. I know it's your favorite holiday. Remember all our traditions? I wonder how you celebrated last year and I guess this year." John paused. "The Smiths went all out on their decorations, as usual. I think they even got some new inflatable things. It seems kind of tacky now, but do you remember when we would just drive around and look at houses and decide who had the best lights? I miss that. I miss your mom's hot chocolate. I don't think she's made it since you left. Why don't you come see her ever? I miss singing Christmas songs at the top of our lungs. God, I can't even listen to some of them anymore. I haven't even decorated my tree because you aren't here to help me. Do you have a tree in your new apartment? You left all your ornaments here. I just-" John's voice caught in his throat. He hadn't noticed he was crying. He took a deep breath. "I can't lie to you, Alex. I never could. I miss you. Even when I don't, I do. It doesn't feel like Christmas when you're not here. It's not fair to ask you this, and I shouldn't even be calling you but-" John had to take another shaky breath to keep from letting out a sob. "Please come home. If not for me, for your parents. They need you. And I need you. And I think you need us too, unless you've really changed over the last year and a half. I... fuck. Please come home. I'm sorry."

John hung up the phone and let himself cry. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

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When he woke up, John was in a very uncomfortable position on his couch with a very uncomfortable headache. Despite his phone laying beside him, he had no recollection of his phone call. He got up, took some painkillers, and went about his daily life. Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, someone saw a notification for a new voicemail.

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It was Christmas Eve. Fresh snow had fallen, church bells were ringing, and everyone was with people they loved. John had spent the evening with his family. It had been really pleasant, and certainly much better than last year. Good food and laughter were exchanged, and by the end of the night, the last thing on John's mind was Alex. When he home around 10 pm in a good mood, and excited for more festivities the following day.

John took off his coat and snow-covered shoes and looked over at his Christmas tree. His sister had insisted to put lights on it since she couldn't bear to see it completely empty. John plugged in the lights and was reminded of Alex for just a moment, but then smiled to himself. He really was okay without him. It had taken some time, but he had gotten there. He was moving on.

John decided to make hot chocolate for the hell of it. Sure, he was a grown man by himself, and even already had a cup earlier that day, but it was almost Christmas, damn it. He could do whatever he wanted. He started getting the mix out when suddenly his doorbell rang.

Who could that possibly be at 10:30 on Christmas Eve? John wondered. Could it be Santa Claus? That seemed like the most likely option. Then John wondered if it could be one of his elderly neighbors who might need some help. Perhaps that was slightly more likely. Another ring brought him out of his thoughts, and he went to open the door.

When he opened the door, John thought he was going to have a heart attack. He would've been less surprised to see Father Christmas himself standing there than who actually was. John couldn't say anything. He couldn't move or even blink. He just kept starting and trying to process what was happening.

"Um, hi, John."

"Alex."

That seemed to be the only word that would come out of John's mouth. It sure was the only thought in his head. Alex. He was here. On Christmas Eve. On the doorstep of the house they used to share. He was here. In the flesh. Out of the blue.

"I'm sorry it's late," Alex said, (Alex, really truly Alex, actually here), "My flight was delayed. Christmas Eve isn't the best time for flying."

John had no idea how to respond. He wanted to shut the door and run away. He also wanted to kiss Alex and never stop. He also wanted to punch him in the face. However, all he could come up with was, "You're here."

Nice one, John, you're so observant.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Alex smiled, but he looked a little nervous. Was he shaking?

"Oh, fuck," John stammered, words not still fully functioning, "it's freezing out there. Come in."

Alex stepped inside and John closed the door behind him.

"I guess I forgot my winter coat. I don't really need one in LA."

"I... um..." What the hell was John supposed to say? A million questions were running through his head, but finally he found one that summed up all of them. "Why?"

"Why am I here?" Alex replied. He looked at John like it should be obvious. "Because you asked me to come."

Now John was really confused. He was about 99% sure he never asked him that.

"When did I do that?"

"Last week. You left me a voicemail."

John wanted to jump off the nearest bridge.

"Did I sound drunk in that message?"

"Very." Alex laughed a little awkwardly. John briefly thought about how much he had missed that that laugh (despite the awkwardness in this one) but quickly shoved those thoughts away. He refused to let a year and a half of getting over him get thrown out the window because of a stupid drunk phone call.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," John was sure his face was turning red. "I can't believe you actually came."

Alex just shrugged. "You were pretty convincing."

"I honestly don't want to know what I said," John laughed. If he had said the things he was thinking about before he got drunk, then he probably already knew. He realized that he and Alex were just standing in front of the door awkwardly. "Well, um, do you want to sit down? I was about to make hot chocolate."

"That sounds nice," Alex fucking smiled again. It did sound nice. Too fucking nice. John couldn't believe he was actually about to sit down and drink hot chocolate with his ex on Christmas Eve. He was never going to recover from this one.

Yet, there Alex was, sitting at his kitchen table, the kitchen table that used to be theirs.

"So..." John started while he got out two mugs. "How's LA?"

"Big," Alex answered. "And busy. It never stops there."

"Yeah, I imagine it's the exact opposite of here."

"Well that was kind of the point of moving there."

John couldn't help but be offended. Without replying he started mixing the hot chocolate. He still wanted to know why Alex came. Surely it wasn't just because John had drunkenly asked him to. Or had he begged? God, he hoped he hadn't begged.

"How have you been?" Alex asked as John placed the mugs on the table and sat down across from him.

"Good," John replied, which was an honest answer. He had been pretty much good until...

"That's good."

Pause.

"You?"

"Also good."

John nodded and looked at Alex's hands wrapped around his warm mug.

"I saw the Smith's house on the way here," Alex said after an awkward pause. John looked up to meet Alex's eyes. "You mentioned in your voicemail that they went all out again this year. I wouldn't expect any less from them."

"Why did you come?" John blurted out. He studied Alex's eyes for a true answer.

"I told you."

"That can't be the only reason. You didn't come back last year."

"You didn't ask me to last year."

John sat back in his chair and shook his head.

"That's bullshit."

Alex sighed and looked down at his drink. John just kept watching him. He looked different, but the same. He was still Alex, just a little older. And trendier, apparently. John figured that was a result of living in Los Angeles instead of a town in the middle of nowhere.

"Maybe you were right."

"Right about what?"

"In your message you said you and my parents need me, and that you think I need you all too. Maybe you were right and I didn't realize it until you said it."

Alex looked up at John again. His expression was unreadable, which was a first for John. He had known Alex since they were children. He had known everything about him and had always been able to read him. But it had been almost two years. But Alex was still Alex, right? Suddenly, John got very angry.

"You know what? No." John hit the table and made Alex jump. "Fuck no. You do not get to just suddenly leave behind everyone who loves you and then just waltz back in two years later."

"John, I-"

"What are you trying to say? That you're coming back? That you still love me?"

"I-"

"You ripped my heart out of my fucking chest! You threw away everything! And you just randomly come back." John grabbed an orange prescription bottle that was sitting on the table and help it up. "Do you see these? Fucking anti-depressants. You did this to me."

Alex looked truly guilty. He stared down at the table and bit his lip. John refused to feel bad. Maybe he was being a little harsh, but this was a year and a half of emotions that were finally coming out.

"You know the worst part?" John continued, "I was finally fucking okay, Alex! I was finally getting over you! I was okay and now you're here. Why?"

"John-"

"Stop saying my name! Why are you here? Why didn't you go see your fucking parents before you came to see me?"

"I was gonna surprise them on Christmas Day."

John sighed and sat back again. He took a sip of his forgotten hot chocolate. Still hot.

"I should hate you," he finally said. "You threw away our entire life together. You ditched everyone who ever loved you."

"I thought that was what I wanted," Alex said quietly, not looking at John. John scoffed.

"You thought?"

"I felt so stuck in this town, I thought I needed to get out. But everything I needed was here, and I see that now."

"So again, what are you trying to say?"

Alex shook his head.

"I don't know. All I know is that as soon as I got your message, I boarded the soonest flight I could get off work for. All I know is that you asked me to come home," Alex said. "This has always been my home."

"You don't get to say things like that after not speaking to me for-" John had to stop for fear that he was going to start crying.

"I fucked up so bad, John. I fucked up and I don't expect you to forgive me. I just need you to know I'm sorry."

"I should hate you," John repeated, covering his face with his hands. "But I don't. I could never hate you. That's why I'm mad."

"There are things I like about LA," Alex said. "It's huge and crazy and I've met some pretty interesting people, but none of them are the people in this town. There's a huge gay community, but none of them are you."

John looked up at Alex.

"I figured you'd have found someone else by now."

Alex smiled sadly.

"I looked, but you were always what I needed. I've never loved anyone but you."

Yep, John was definitely crying.

"Fuck, Alex..." John said, exasperated. "How am I supposed to respond to that?"

Alex reached across the table and took John's hand. God, he missed those hands.

"Ask me to stay."

John was shocked.

"Stay the night?"

"The night, the week, forever, I don't care. If you ask me to stay, I'll stay. If you want me to go-"

"No."

"No what?"

All John's anger faded away and his hand tightened around Alex's.

"Don't go."

Alex smiled sadly.

"I'm home, John. You're my home. I don't want to leave you again."

John sighed.

"How am I supposed to trust you again after what you did? How do I know you won't do it again?"

"I don't expect you to," Alex replied. "Just know right now that the last thing I want to do is leave here tonight."

John knew he should say no. Logic told him that there was no way this was a good idea. But he was like an addict who had been clean for months, but one look at the drug dragged him right back in.

"Tonight, for now," John said. "Because it's Christmas."

Alex looked relieved and smiled again. For a brief moment, John wanted to lean over the table and kiss him, but fortunately was able to hold himself back. This was already going pretty fast. Whatever "this" was.

Alex picked up his mug with his hand that wasn't still in John's.

"To Christmas, then," he said. John chuckled and raised his mug to Alex's.

"To Christmas."

They clinked mugs and took a sip. They sat in silence for a moment just studying each other, seeing how much they had changed in the last two years. John felt Alex's thumb rub against his hand.

"So have you decorated your tree yet?" Alex finally asked. "You said in your call that you hadn't."

"Oh, no ornaments. Just lights."

"Do you want to do it now?"

John laughed.

"It's a little late."

Alex looked at his watch.

"We still have an hour until it's officially Christmas Day."

"Fuck it. Let's do it," John smiled. He quickly finished his drink and reluctantly let go of Alex's hand to stand up. They went up to the attic and got out the dusty box labeled "X-mas." Together they got out the decorations and put them on the tree, talking about all the past Christmases they had like they hadn't even been apart for a so long. When they finished and stepped back to look at their work, Alex suddenly started crying.

"Shit, Alex, what's wrong?" John asked, alarmed.

"I feel so bad about leaving," he replied, "And I really, really missed you."

"Baby," John muttered without thinking, and pulled Alex into a hug. "It's okay. Don't cry."

"It's not okay," Alex said into his shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around John. "It's never gonna be okay."

"It is right now. You're here."

Alex held onto him a little tighter.

"I thought you wouldn't want me back," he said quietly. "I thought you hated me and that's why you never called."

"I thought you hated me," John laughed. "I guess there was some miscommunication. Actually, there was none at all."

"I wanted to come back sooner. I wanted to call. But I was scared. And so guilty."

John pulled back just far enough to make Alex look up at him.

"Everyone makes mistakes. This is your home. You're always welcome here. I'm sorry I yelled at you before, I wasn't sure how to feel."

"How do you feel now?"

"This is kind of surreal, but I'm happy. And really glad you're here. I missed you too."

Before John knew what was happening, Alex was leaning up to kiss him. Every instinct told him not to kiss back, that this was happening way too fast and they were going to get hurt again, but he didn't care. It was fucking Christmas. He kissed Alex with everything he had. He had missed kissing him so much, the way his lips felt, the way he smelled, the way his fingers curled in John's hair.

It had been almost two years, and they had both changed, but this was still Alex. John's Alex. John realized that while he certainly could live without Alex, he was much better with him. They were fine on their own, but so much better together. He was pretty sure Alex felt the same, based on how he was kissing.

But then his lips were gone.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Alex stuttered, turning away from John. "I shouldn't have-"

"Did it seem like I didn't want you to?" John replied, taking Alex's hand and pulling him back in.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," Alex whispered, "I can't believe I left you."

"We still have a lot to talk about, but not now," John cupped Alex's face with his hand. "You came back to me."

John kissed Alex this time. After a minute Alex said,

"So I can stay the night? I'll take the couch."

John smiled.

"My bed has been too cold for too long, Alex. Welcome back home."