Christmas Eve, Sunnydale, CA
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
Xander was stirring however. Moving as silently as he could, dragging a small Christmas tree. He’d opted for a real one with smells and all attached. Somehow, he managed to get it up quietly and strung with lights before he started on the ornaments. One box of cheap but highly colorful glass balls slipped from his hand and spilt, red, green and gold balls bouncing everywhere and shattering with tinkling pops.
He froze, eyes darting everywhere at once. If Angel heard that and came out the surprise was ruined. He’d be booted out on his ass. But nothing else stirred and he went to find a broom. While the bits and pieces of color glinted very prettily in the dim light of the great room, Xander didn’t relish Angel cutting his feet and having to explain his own clumsiness.
Broken glass disposed of; he turned to the room, “Now to decorate the rest of the place.”
Tinsel was strung around the doors to the courtyard and the pillars. He hid the shackles and bolts on the wall with bows and fake holly and wondered where to put the mistletoe. The ceilings were too high to reach without a ladder. He tossed the little bundle of waxy leaves and berries on the table for later consideration and gathered up the full stockings. Candy canes, Christmas crackers plus the obligatory socks and oranges made them bulge.
There was a brief panic as he looked through the bags for tacks but they fell out at his feet and he moved to the fireplace. And stopped.
He stared. Why didn’t he remember that it was stone? His tacks were useless.
“Improvise, adapt and improve,” he muttered to himself as he looked around.
His eyes drifted outside. There were tons of stones making the courtyard and wall. Maybe… he dashed out and hunted around until he found two smallish loose ones by the wall. Dusting them off he brought them in and used them to secure the stockings by putting the hanging tags under them.
Stepping back, he surveyed his work. Now the stockings were hung but the rocks looked too rockish. After a moment of staring, he dashed over to the ornament bag and pulled out a couple of extra tree bows. He stuck those on top of the rocks.
“Festive.”
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
The food was placed in the kitchen, a small roast and vegetables in a crock-pot plugged in to finish simmering. Xander rechecked the recipe and crock-pot directions and nodded, hoping this would work. It wasn’t the Grinch’s roast beast or figgy pudding but it would do. He hoped.
Eggnog went into the fridge next to the fresh container of blood that Xander had gotten from the butcher. Squeamish thoughts of getting the two confused briefly danced through his mind and he gagged, muffling it with his hand.
“Okay, so not a sugar-plummy thought there. Bleh.”
Wandering back out, Xander sat down on the couch with a sigh. He just had to put the wreath up and wait but he needed a soda and a rest. Everything was decorated and Angel hadn’t come downstairs. Giggling quietly, Xander hugged himself out of sheer happiness. There was no way the sullen vampire wouldn’t be surprised by this.
“He’ll love it. I hope,” Xander frowned. “Please?”
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
Angel stirred. Something or someone was making a racket outside. He shoved the covers away grumbling and looked at the clock. The sun should be close to down and people should be at home being noisy there, not out on the street. It was Christmas Eve, for God’s sake.
He got out of bed and went to the window. He peeked just to make sure before pushing the curtains aside. Twilight in Sunnydale. He could feel the chill coming through the window. Unseasonable only in but he had to admit, perfect for December. It even looked cloudy out.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
Soda finished, Xander donned his Santa hat and spun around, checking his work. It looked good. He went to get the wreath and spied the bag of fake snow. There had been a thought of spreading it around and on the tree when he bought it. Now he wasn't so sure. Christmas trees were a bitch to take down as it was, vacuuming up fake snow only made it worse.
“Does Angel even own a vacuum?” He wondered and set the bag by the courtyard doors. That could go back in the car later.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.
Angel blinked. Coming up was a shiny red Cadillac convertible with the white ragtop down. There were Christmas carols playing on the stereo and a set of antlers attached to the front grill. It took a second for the multi-colors string of lights around the doors and windshield to register. It even looked like there was a huge sack in the back seat.
He opened the window and caught the sound of Jingle Rock playing, the fat and very realistic Santa behind the steering wheel singing along and jingling a set of bells. Santa was waving at people out for a walk (on the other side of the street since his mansion was supposedly haunted) or looking out their windows.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
Angel watched as the Christmas car cruised slowly by, taken in by the richness of the red suit. It didn’t look like any cheap, store bought costume but like something lovingly hand-stitched and cared for. There was a line of green holly embroidered on the white trim and the buttons looked like polished brass. As the man - Santa - pulled the car to the curb to dispense a handful of candy canes and a small present to a couple walking their dog, Angel even saw a huge, leather bound book in the passenger seat.
He found himself smiling at the completeness of the man’s act and he started to move away from the window when, turning to get back into his car, Santa caught Angel’s eyes. Santa’s eyes did indeed twinkle and Angel looked back suddenly feeling nervous and antsy inside. He would never admit it but he felt judged somehow by this festive man in his Santa suit.
Then Santa waved, gave a hearty ho-ho-ho and jumped back in his car to continue his rounds.
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Xander turned from the door and watched Santa and his very cool car drive down the street. “Well that’s new.”
He didn’t remember this Santa or that suit from any department store Santa whose lap he’d had to sit on over the years. Nevertheless, this guy was good, Xander though, with his custom costume and real beard. That guy would’ve been an instant legend if he’d appeared at the local mall. Especially since it looked like he was actually giving out presents that weren't coupons for local stores.
He waved when Santa waved and turned back to put the wreath on the hook he’d placed over the door. It had all the Twelve Days of Christmas things on it. Tacky and yet glittery fun, at least he thought so, with the five golden rings in the middle.
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
There was a sudden gust of wind as he stepped back to make sure the wreath was hanging straight. It caught his hat and he grabbed it, eyes seeing break lights as the holiday car disappeared in a flurry of leaves. They completely obscured the car and Xander couldn’t help a shiver of excitement.
“That was very cool,” he murmured as he secured his hat and went back inside. Now presents needed to go under the tree and the fire needed lighting.
The presents were easy, just a few gifts, brightly wrapped. Some of them were silly and one was hopefully wanted, but around the tree they went. Then he went to the fireplace and peered carefully up. Xander was fairly certain that he’d seen it lit once and the charred wood in the grate seemed to back him. He checked the flue, broke up the charcoaled logs inside, stacked a couple of fresh logs on the grate and said a quick prayer to the Fireplace Gods. A cinnamon scented pinecone fire starter went under the logs and he struck the match, finger still crossed. If anything was going to screw up, this would be the big one.
But the cone caught and the logs seemed to cooperate and he crouched there just watching the merry glow start. The cinnamon wasn't too cloying and the chill in the air lent itself to needing a fire. And it was pretty and comforting never mind completely mesmerizing.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
Angel started to go back to bed. He had no plans and everyone else was doing family things. Besides, the voices that had started to plague him were quiet tonight and some uninterrupted sleep would be nice. Just as he was pulling the covers up, he heard something downstairs. It was a little noise, followed by others, metallic and shuffling. Then the smell of cinnamon and pine hit his nostrils and he got up, throwing the covers aside.
Creeping cautiously to the bedroom door, he listened. A faint heartbeat, a sniff and the crackle of fire, it was almost enough to make him think hunter but underneath the cinnamon was the smell of meat and… Xander. Angel grinned despite the bah-humbug feeling and headed downstairs.
The creak of a step and the purposely heavy pad of bare feet alerted Xander and he stood quickly. His cheeks flushed with nerves and a sudden wave of guilt. What if Angel really wanted to be alone? What if he was being selfish by pushing this Christmasy thing on him? What if he hated pot roast and his gifts?
It was too late to turn back now because there was Angel, standing in the doorway. In his pajama bottoms and nothing else. Xander’s cheeks got redder.
“Uh… h-hi.”
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
Angel wasn't sure where to look first. Xander was fidgeting in front of the fireplace, a fire burning merrily behind him. It was the source of the cinnamon smell. Stockings on the mantle framed Xander and... were those rocks with bows? He started to move forward but there were more lights around the doors and decorations, while sparse, where bright a festive and apparently everywhere in the great room.
Then there was the tree, a real Christmas tree. Little, sparkling multi-colored lights twinkled in the branches. Colored balls and red and green garland festooned the tree and there was a small angel holding a star on the top. Underneath there was a small pile of presents.
His eyes drifted back to Xander, whose fidgeting was only getting worse. He played with the Santa hat on his head and Angel couldn’t help but smile at the smudge of soot on one red cheek. The fire behind Xander popped loudly and he jumped and laughed nervously.
“So… um, if you don’t like it, I can have it out of here in a jiffy. Well not a jiffy but pretty quick. I can be quick. And quiet. You didn’t hear me, right? I didn’t think you did. A-and you so walked heavy didn’t you? So you wouldn’t… scare me… um Merry Christmas,” Xander wound down and bit his lip, head dropping.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
Angel’s smile turned wolfish and he chuckled. “Yeah, I like it.”
Xander’s head shot up. “You do.”
“Yep, I do,” Angel said as he moved to Xander. “Unexpected but I like it.”
Xander started to speak again but Angel kissed him. And kissed him again, big hands grabbing Xander’s hips and tugging him close. He never wondered why it only took him less than a second to get hard when Angel did that. Teenaged hormones aside, Angel made him feel like a possession when he did that sort of thing. In a very good way.
“That feels like a yes for sure.”
Angel laughed again. “Yes, yes, very much yes.”
Each yes got a kiss in punctuation and Xander couldn’t help but laugh and squirm when Angel moved to his neck. The thrill of fear came too and he wondered when that would stop. But it made the shivers worth it.
“Relax.”
“I am very relaxed all things considered,” Xander said tilting his head back. The Santa hat slipped to the floor. “There’s mistletoe too.”
Angel raised his head, tongue licking up Xander’s neck. “What?”
“Mistletoe,” Xander pointed at the table. “And look, I think a lot less when you don’t let me speak.”
“Bullshit,” Angel said and went back to licking and sucking on Xander’s neck.
“Ahhh… okay I think differently?”
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
Angel just grumbled and slid his hands off Xander’s hips to squeeze his ass hard and lift. The brief noise of Xander’s protest died in another kiss and he rose onto his tiptoes, arms wrapping around Angels’ neck for support. It was a good thing he did that because Angel took that as a sign to lift him up off his feet and start walking.
Xander’s world turned on its axis as Angel dropped them on the couch, his weight pressing Xander deep into the cushions. Xander rocked up and tore his head away to gasp. Angel’s was grinding his cock against Xander’s and his jeans were quickly becoming a painful issue. He pushed at Angel but it was like trying to shift a boulder.
“Angel, please I have to breathe at some… oh there, thanks.”
Angel had risen up, weight shifting to his knees as he looked down at Xander. His smile was half-formed and all together shiver-inducing. “You’d think with a fire and all, I’d be a little bit warmer.”
He was silenced with the slide of Angel’s hands under his shirt, fingertips rubbing and searching. They circled until they hit his nipples and Xander swore when Angel pinched. Every time he tried to bow down but his chest insisted on arching up. Nipples on guys shouldn’t be so sensitive his brain protested but apparently his nerves never got that memo. Each pinch, tweak and nail drag arched his body up higher and higher until he was sure his spine would break or he would end up in a headstand. Xander’s hands pressed at Angels’ elbows, trying to get him to stop with the mad fingers so he could think for just one second.
All the while Angels’ thigh pressed in and up, making Xander’s hips rock for friction. It added to the madness and the gasping and the brief thought that his spare clothes were in the car so if he came in his jeans the walk to them would be sticky. He laughed, giggled really and tried sit up.
The hands on his chest went flat and he was held down. “Hey now, I just want out of my clothes.”
There was a tug and a rush of cool air and Xander found himself sans shirt and Santa hat. He barely had time to blink before the back of his head was caught and he was pulled up for a kiss, Angel’s lips bruising his. He moaned and clung tight. When Angel got like this, insistent and needy, it was best to go with it.
Best to let Angel kiss him until he was light-headed and to let those big hands roam where they wanted to. They were at his pants at the moment, tugging and moving him around again. It wasn’t like he didn’t want it. Hell, Xander needed it and was glad Angel apparently did too. And it was Christmas so who wouldn’t want to get laid if they could?
Xander laughed again, unable to stop, unwilling to try. Angel was right; not thinking was not an option when this happened. It was like his brain was trying to make up for his silent mouth… or his sudden lack of clothes. And this time Angel didn’t seem annoyed or upset by the laughter, tossing Xander that half-grin and dipping his head to suck his cock. He clamped his fingers on Angels’ head, once again just hoping for something steady to hold himself earthbound.
Angel worked him, sucking and licking with the occasional drag of teeth that made him shout. He was fairly certain that he yelled something about lube and pants pockets before biting his lip and hitting the couch in a bid not to come. That worked for close to ten whole seconds before he groaned and came, snatches of obscene Christmas carols playing through his head making him choke a laugh out as he shook.
Angel sat up, looking humored and concerned. “Do I even want to know?”
“Not really,” Xander said, sprawling in a warm at last puddle on the cushions and biting the back of his hand to stop the giggles. “Are my shoes still on?”
Angel looked. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“You are so not,” Xander said, sitting up and pushing Angel away. “I swear, can’t even finish the job of getting me naked.”
He bent and marveled briefly that his swimming, post-orgasm head didn’t fall off as he untied his shoes and shucked them and the socks. A cool finger slicked down the crack of his ass and he jerked, only not hitting the floor as an arm snaked around his waist. He squirmed and tried to get upright, stopping at the sigh behind him.
“Would you hold still so I can fuck you please?” Angel asked.
“Not if this is the current position.”
The world tilted again and Xander found himself on his face. “Nice,” he grumbled from the cushions.
“More like naughty,” Angel said and pushed a finger in.
It was a credit to the thickness of the cushions that Xander’s gasp was quiet. He left his head buried, being as still as possible while Angel twisted and moved that finger inside him. It didn’t hurt or burn but it did soothe him, making him drowsy. That or the lack of oxygen which he got back in spades as his head popped up when the second finger shoved in way too soon. Stretching pain shouldn’t feel so good, he marveled as his hips pressed back for more.
“I think… I think I am gonna need this quick,” Xander gasped.
“No kidding,” Angel replied dryly. “In a rush to open presents?”
“Is this one of them?”
The laugh was bright and made Xander smile. “Yeah.”
“Kinda cheap dont’cha think?” Xander knew he was pushing his luck and that was confirmed when Angel bit the back of his neck hard. “But good! Very good! Perfect size!”
Angel growled, fingers pulling out fast, and flipped Xander onto his back. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”
“I am not a pancake with all the flipping and yes. I want you to fuck me,” Xander said, reaching up. “Please, now and thank you.”
“Good and you’re welcome,” Angel said as he pushed his fingers back in.
Xander closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel. The blunt push and knobby twist of Angel’s fingers were nothing like his cock but just as good. They moved more, were more mercurial and searching if not as long and took his words away easier than anything short of a gag. Coming like this would be just fine but Angel pushed his leg up and pressed his cock against him and coming like that would be so much better.
The in of it made him squeak and the out of it made him moan. He clung to Angel’s back and rolled his hips past the burning feel until the stretch was something that should always be there. Then Angel started moving fast and Xander bit one pale shoulder hard and tried his best to match the pace.
He wasn’t even aware of his cock being hard again under the relentless and tireless drive of Angel’s cock until he shouted, vision fuzzing out from the pressure in his head. The sparkling Christmas lights looked like fireworks as he blinked rapidly, body twisting out the last sparks of pleasure, trying to hold on to the feel and restore his sight.
Angel was gasping in his ear, ragged sounding air, his hips rocking him in deeper as he came. Then the weight was back, less crushing and more blanketing. Xander kissed the red bite mark he’d left and petted Angel’s back, sleepiness starting to come join the party.
Somewhere outside the strains of We Wish You a Merry Christmas were playing, the carol drifting in as someone drove by, car stereo loud. “Wonder if that’s Santa again,” he murmured.
“Maybe,” Angel said quietly. “Merry Christmas, Xander.”
“Merry Christmas, Angel.”
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"