Chester was gazing at the Christmas tree in front of the sofa where he was seated, knees pulled up to his chest. He'd lost track of time as the clock ticked quietly by, counting out deliberate seconds within the peaceful silence of the room. The singer's eyes glazed into the lights, losing focus as thoughts tumbled gently over in his mind.

"What are you doing still up?" came a low warm voice. There was soft padding of socked-feet and then the sofa shifted to accommodate his lover's weight behind him.

"Just thinking," Chester murmured, unfolding himself into Mike's embrace.

"What are you thinking about?" Mike beckoned, nuzzling his cheek into Chester's short dark hair, fingers stroking affectionately up and down his slender tattooed arm.

"That," Chester answered, motioning languidly to a book on the table in front of them. It had to be decades old, spine practically crumbling and cover missing.

"Mmm," Mike reached forward to retrieve the object in question, sighing contentedly when he sat back with Chester against him once more.

"Why were you thinking about this, baby?" the emcee asked, flipping through the pages, hands wrapped around Chester's middle to hold the book in front of them both.

"Here. This part," Chester stopped him, pointing to a paragraph on the weathered sepia-tinted page.

Mike scanned the passage a moment before reading it out loud.

"You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, and romance can push aside the curtain and view the beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real?

Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing more real and abiding. No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives, and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood." *

They fell into a comfortable silence as Mike finished reading, both eclipsed by the innocence and purity within the words.

"It's true," Chester whispered after a while.

"What is?" Mike inquired, lips brushing over the shell of Chester's ear as he closed the book and set it aside on the sofa.

Chester shivered, eyes slipping closed. "Strength. Faith and poetry. Love and romance. Beauty, glory, and even fucking Santa Claus."

Mike chuckled at this, nipping at Chester's ear before taking the singer's chin in his hand. He gently turned his lover's face toward his.

"How do you know?"

"It has to be," Chester insisted, dark eyes flooding into Mike's intense gaze. "Because I have you."

Mike's breath caught at the admission, and he pressed his lips against the other man's, agreeing with a kiss as the pale white lights continued to twinkle in the tree before them.

-

* Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's Sun and the response was printed as an unsigned editorial on September 21, 1897.

You can read the full editorial here: http://www.newseum.org/yesvirginia/

Author's Notes

I wanted to get another chapter of Lex Talionis up before Christmas, but maybe this will do for now? I just really wanted to write something based on the Dear Virginia letter, because it's one of my most favorite things about Christmas - it truly captures the spirit of the holiday.