Frosty Fiction: Bax and Jason

“Goddamn it, Mini! Are you trying to kill yourself?” Bax was about to boil over. Jason had been out there with an axe, trying to trim branches off their Christmas tree.

“No. If I was doin’ that, I’d be whacking at my legs and shit.” Jason’s eyes rolled, searching for him. “I didn’t hit an artery, did I?”

“No. No, but you were headin’ that way.” Bax took the axe, glad Mini didn’t make him wrestle for it.

“I was helping.” Oh, there was pouting involved now, full-on. Shit, marthy, that was cute as fuck.

Bax manfully fought the urge to kiss that lower lip where it stuck out. “How did you even find the axe, Mini?”

“It was in the toolshed.”

“So, what, you wandered around calling for it?"

“Nope. I wandered around feeling for it.” Jase just grinned like a monkey. “I moved the rakes.”

“Good to know. I ain’t blind, but I might just kill myself on them.”

“Don’t be pissy, Bax. This is the only way I’ll get to see the tree this year. Once the glass shit is on it, no one will want me touching it.”

Well, shit. He’d not thought of that. He had a bunch of stuff of his momma’s, and Brenda had sent a box for Jason...

“We could hang the glass stuff off the garland on the big wall. Do the tree up in stuff for you.”

Jason shrugged, cheeks pinking. “I don’t want to be no problem.”

“Why would it be a problem? This is our place, not your momma’s or mine.”

“It’d make things a little easier, to not have to worry about knocking into the tree.”

“Well, then, we’ll do that.” He forgot, sometimes, that Mini couldn’t see. Jase got around so much easier every day. It sucked, not to see the twinkly lights and pretty wrapping paper and all.

“Okay.” Jason sighed. “How ‘m I supposed to buy you a present, cowboy?”

“You think I need anything? Hell, tell Missy to take you to buy me new Wranglers.” He hooked an arm around Jason’s waist, hating that defeated fucking look, hating God and the job and the world with all his soul, for mucking up the man he loved. “You know my size. Intimately.”

“I know all about you.” That grin went all goofy and Andy knew he’d gone and done something good and that loosened up that acid in his heart. “Intimately.”

“There you go. All I want for Christmas I got.”

It wasn’t true. He wanted Jason’s sight back. Now, but both of them knew it, so neither of them said it.

Weren’t neither of them young enough to believe in Santa and shit. They just had to believe in each other.

That was enough.

Frosty Fiction: Lily and Marc

She looked at the EPT stick in her hand, shaking her head. 

They'd only been married three months. She was on the pill. They didn't need a baby.

A tiny voice at the back of her head whispered, "The last time Granny visited you she promised twins."

"Oh, shut up."

"Lady? Honey? Lily? You okay?" 

"Uh-huh." The tears started then, pouring down her cheeks and she fought the sobs, knowing that her lover, her soul mate, her lion would know, would just need the slightest clue to...

The bathroom door opened, Marc standing there, looking like he was storming a beach somewhere. "What is wrong? What is it? Are you sick? Are you?"

His eyes landed on the pregnancy test in her hand, the positive sign almost glowing. "Lily? Is it true?"

"Merry Christmas?"

His smile, even through her tears, let her know that yes, yes it was.

Frosty Fiction: Jordan/Shaw/Stephanie

"Jordan, did you get something for our girl?"

His mate looked over from the chair where Jordan was repairing snowshoes. "Huh?"

"It's December. Christmas? You know?" Their first holiday altogether as a threesome, as three wolves, as lovers. As family.

Jordan snorted. "She's a witch. She doesn't do Christmas."

"Everyone does Christmas!" Didn't they? Trees. Lights. Carols.

"Jewish people don't."

Shaw was going to bite Jordan, hard. "Steph's not Jewish."

"I know that. She's a witch."

"Jordan!"

"What baby?"

"Did you get Steph something. For. Christmas?"

"Nope." Jordan didn't even look at him, but Shaw could scent amusement.

"Boys, I'm home." Cinnamon. Stephanie smelled like cinnamon and ginger and citrus and...oh, yummy. "Busy day at the shop today. I brought gingerbread. Are there steaks?"

"Gingerbread?" He glared at Jordan. "As in Christmas cookies?"

"Christmas cookies, Yule cookies, holiday cookies. I just wanted gingerbread and lights. When are we putting up the tree? I love the lights."

"See?"

"Tree's in the back, baby girl, just waiting for you to get home to decorate it. I even got you candy canes."

Shaw's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "You suck."

Steph came to him, kissed him soundly. "So do you, Shaw. Hell, so do I? Wanna see?"

"Uh-huh." He spared a half glare at Jordan, but his mate just chuffed softly. 

"So easy to tease, baby."

He would have growled, but Steph was kissing him, loving him. 

Again.

It could wait for later -- after the sweets and the tree.

Frosty Fiction: Seb and Markus

“You want to do a Christmas album someday, Candy?” Seb pulled his guitar off the stand, coming to the soft, comfortable couch they wrote from.

“I never say never, baby, but we’d have to be in the studio in fucking June with it.” Markus shrugged. “I never loved that.”

“I like carols, though.”

Markus grinned at him, eyes warm, sweet, like a fucking drug, and Sebastian warmed, balls deep. “What’s your favorite?”

“I love O Holy Night. You?” 

“All I Want for Christmas is You.” Markus started singing away, almost bellering it. Jackass. Beautiful, musical son of a bitch.

Sebastian smiled, he had to because he knew Markus. The man meant it, playing around or not. “You want to pick some?”

“More than breathing.” 

He nodded. Santa couldn’t bring him anything he needed more. He had Markus and music, everything a Cajun needed. 

Except for etoufee.

Oh, he wondered if he could hire Jean-Jacques to fly down to make some. Maybe Eduardo would know someone local...

“Baby? You got smoke coming out of your ears.”

“I want etoufee for Christmas dinner. Etoufee and pralines. Can we make that happen?”

Markus hooted for him. “Baby, you leave it to Santa. It will happen.”

It was good to be him. 

Damned good.

“All right then.” He strummed the melody they’d been working on the night before, picking the complicated line. Then Markus’ harmony joined him, sweet as spun sugar and they were off, making music.

Together.

Frosty Fiction: Shane and Galen

Shane whistled, draping Christmas lights over the dock. The house was lit, the driveway. Car port. Barn. Bait shop. There was a moving lit-up alligator and eight flamingos in the front yard, sparkling palm trees on the back porch, and an inflatable Rudolph bobbing in the pool. The door had a rainbow sparkly wreath, the porch light was red, and the doorbell sang jingle bells.

The dogs had on Christmas collars.

He had on one red and one green flip flop and Grinch boxer shorts. 

December was here. 

He was ready. Like whoa ready. 

He looked down at his chest, the battery operated LED blinking lights clipped to his nipple rings just merry as fuck. 

Now, all he needed was his Galen to come home from helping Momma at her new house so that the man could admire.

Mating Call: Thanksgiving

Steph stared at the bowl. Was it sage she needed? 

Protective, cleansing, the herb was a lovely purifier, helped with financial questions. Hell, it could even work for the evil eye, but was that what she needed here?

This mixture was important, too important to mess up because she wasn't balanced. 

She sniffed again.

Garlic? It was another protector -- more fire than earth, a Mars-based herb...

She chewed on her bottom lip, worrying. 

Garlic? Sage? Salt? 

She stirred again. Salt could be so overpowering, though.

Warm hands landed on her hips, Jordan solid as a rock behind her. "Smells good." 

It was her Shaw, though, that bounced in, all puppyish enthusiasm, and scooped up a fingerful, popped it in his mouth. "Mmm. Perfect."

"You think so? It's okay?"

"Lovely witch." Jordan nuzzled her jaw. "It's not a big deal."

"It's my first Thanksgiving with the pack," she argued.

"It's going to be cornbread dressing. Put it in the oven!" Jordan leaned over, licked her lips, then bounced out again.

Goddess, those boys...

Jordan patted her ass. "Oven. Then come snuggle. We need you."

She grabbed her baking dish and a spoon. Oven. Right. 

Time to cook.

 

Mating Call is releasing next week from Ellora's Cave. :D

 

Short from Fighting Addiction: Markus :D

“What time is it?” Marcus scratched his belly, trying to peer at the clock. His eyes were all ooky from the damned cold he’d caught in Los Angeles. His whole face felt like it was going to explode.

Kyle chuckled on the other end of the line. “Time to turn on your TV, boss. Sebastian is on that interview show. You said you wanted to watch.”

“Hell, yes. Thanks, man.”

“No problem. See you at four for rehearsal.”

“You bet.” Markus hung up with Kyle and padded to the mini bar fridge to get a glass of orange juice. He had to have the only mini bar in Reno that was stocked only with bottled water, club soda and juice. No booze.

He clicked the TV to on, coming in just in time to see Sebastian walk out on the soundstage of a talk show. Poor baby looked wickedly uncomfortable, hat pulled down, dark-tinted glasses hiding most of his eyes. They were gray, not black, so those green eyes were just visible.

His eyes cleared up pretty damned fast. God, it was good to just sit and look at Seb and not worry about who saw him watching. It was also fascinating to be able to give the man feedback on his bad habits.

Like the bouncing leg. Up and down, up and down.

Markus thought maybe Sebastian needed to work off some of that nervous energy.

He couldn’t wait for them to get back to the tour this weekend so he could help out with that. Surely he could kick this cold by then…