Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Christmas in Hell
Bryce
Once he gathered enough courage to leave his bedroom in the goofy costume, Bryce returned to the kitchen and checked the cinnamon rolls, relieved they were taking shape.
Baby Jesus was once again whole, so he added the figurine back to the nativity scene.
After pouring himself and Zef some coffee—using Zef’s Saturday coffee mug—he added a splash of cream to theirs, drinking his black.
In the living room, he hunkered down beside the small Christmas tree, wincing when the shorts rode up his butt crack, giving him a wedgie. “For Pete’s sake,” he muttered as he wiggled in place to dislodge the fabric.
Zef’s bedroom door opened, and Bryce turned in their direction to let them know he had their coffee ready.
The words died in his throat as they came to a stop beside the couch wearing a short, strapless red dress lined with white fur and green-and-white-striped elf tights.
Sweet magical baby in the manger, Zef was dressed as a sexy Mrs. Claus.
They’d clearly altered the dress to add holes for their lower arms, but their shoulders were bare, clavicles on display.
The hem of the flared skirt was so short that, even with the leggings, it felt inappropriate to even look at them.
Their hair was loose under the Santa hat, wavy thanks to the braid they’d slept in last night.
Heat pooled in Bryce’s belly as he scanned them from antenna to socked feet and back again.
He had always thought Zef was beautiful, but this was something else entirely.
And for some insane reason, it was working for him on an alarming level.
No, no, no, he could not get an erection right now. Not in these tiny shorts!
Zef cocked their head at him, studying him as closely as he had studied them, though there was no heat behind their gaze.
They scrutinized him in a reserved, but appreciative way, like an art connoisseur enjoying a painting or an outdoorsman savoring the mountain view.
There was fondness and warmth, but no heat.
Which, given he was dressed as sexy Santa, pinched his ego, just a bit.
“Your Christmas outfit is very fetching,” they said at last, antennas quivering. “I find your body hair a physically attractive quality. You should be proud of it.”
Taken aback, Bryce gaped for several seconds before he managed a weak, “Thank you?”
“Does this look alright?” They pressed two palms to their stomach, shifting their weight. “Is it fitting for the occasion?”
Their rare show of insecurity had his own misgivings fading to the background, and Bryce smiled up at them. “Yeah, Zef, you look great. You’re perfect.”
Zef’s cheeks darkened, and they dropped their gaze, fingering the white tulle keeping their skirt flared outward to show off more leg than should have been legal. They crossed the room and knelt down opposite him, sitting back on their heels.
Pointing at Bryce’s thigh, they asked, “You have a scar. What happened?”
He glanced down at the blotchy skin of his upper thigh. “Oh, I got burned when I was kid. Hot water.”
“How terrible,” they said, and he shrugged.
“It was a long time ago.”
With a hum, they scooted forward and angled their head, drawing their hair aside to reveal their elegant neck. Toward the base of their skull, right under their hairline, was a thin scar. “I was pushed from a balcony when I was young.”
“What?” Bryce cried in horror, and Zef startled at his sudden volume. “Someone pushed you off a balcony?”
“Yes. I was smaller than the other children my age, and I did not… fit in socially. It was cause for bullying.”
A pang of familiarity shot through his chest. “I was bullied too. You know, for being fat.”
Zef’s thin brows drew down. “How utterly ridiculous. Your form is very aesthetically pleasing.”
“Oh, thanks,” he said, before shaking his head. “Wait, go back. You’re saying children pushed you off a balcony? That’s, like, attempted murder!”
“That is a bit dramatic,” they chided, and he barked a disbelieving laugh.
“I think I’m giving the correct amount of drama, here. How high up were you?”
The Mantodea thought about it for a moment. “Not high enough to truly harm myself, but since my wings were underdeveloped, I could not cushion my fall very well.”
There were so many things about that statement Bryce wanted to ask about, but he settled on, “Wait, can you actually fly?”
“Not in the way you mean. My ancestors could, but evolution has resulted in smaller, more fragile wings.” Zef straightened their spine and offered Bryce an almost sly tilt to their head. “So while I cannot fly, I can fall gracefully.”
At that, he laughed, making them preen. “Maybe you can show me sometime.”
“I do not like heights, but I could be convinced to give a small demonstration,” they said haughtily.
“Maybe after presents, though.”
“Yes, we must commence with the first Christmas tradition.” Zef took their coffee from Bryce so he could grab the first gifts from under the tree. They were matching packages with Nan’s writing, and Bryce settled the one addressed to him in his own lap as he handed Zef theirs.
As they sipped their coffee, they carefully unwrapped the gift with their lower hands. Bryce did the same, revealing a hunter green knitted sweater with a reindeer on the front. Zef’s sweater was pastel pink with a snowflake front and center and, yes, four sleeves.
“Nan didn’t have your measurements, so it might be too big on you,” he said as Zef held up the sweater. “She makes one for each of us every year. You’re officially an Elliot now.”
They blinked rapidly as they ran a hand over the fabric. “Your family has never even met me.”
“Sure, but they know how much you’ve done for me and that you’re my friend.” They lifted their gaze to his, and he smiled. “They wanted you to have a good first Christmas, and that includes an Elliot sweater.”
“I did not give your family any gifts.”
“I added your name to the package I sent them,” he said with a dismissive wave. “So don’t worry about it.”
They folded the sweater with care, a soft smile on their lips. “It is a very thoughtful gift. I shall call Nan back and thank her. I will also apologize for blaming the breakfast catastrophe on her, as I am sure the fault lies with me.”
They took turns opening the rest of the presents, Zef unwrapping each one carefully and folding the wrapping paper like it, too, was a gift. Bryce ripped his open and balled up the paper, tossing it into the trash can—much to Zef’s dismay.
Zef had given him a flexible reading light that could clip on to a book’s cover, a pair of glasses specialized to filter out certain light waves that caused migraines, and a container holding several different types of teeth.
“To start your own collection,” they said as Bryce studied the teeth in his palm, half-disgusted, half-intrigued.
As for Zef’s gifts, Bryce had bought them a door draft stopper to block the light under their bedroom door, local loose-leaf teas from his hometown, and human flower seeds for their garden.
“Lilac, honeysuckle, and primrose,” they read, wings fluttering in excitement.
“I have never planted human flowers before.”
“I don’t have much of a green thumb, but I thought we could plant them together, once the weather warms up,” Bryce offered, and they nodded exuberantly.
“I would like that very much.”
When the cinnamon rolls finished baking, they sat in the kitchen nook and ate breakfast. They were doughy on the inside, but Bryce didn’t care.
It was the thought that mattered most, so he left the goopiest parts on his plate and ate the rest with gusto.
Then they video-called with his family, ensuring to keep the camera pointed above their necks so his parents couldn’t see the costumes they wore.
Before they left for the Christmas party at Oliver’s, Bryce convinced Zef to change out of the Mrs. Claus costume so they could both wear their Christmas sweaters instead. Thankfully, they agreed, and Bryce removed his own outfit, grateful to be free of the tiny shorts.
In jeans and his reindeer sweater, he returned to the living room to wait for Zef.
Oliver, who had officially moved into Liel’s apartment in Gluttony, had invited everyone over for a Christmas dinner celebration that doubled as a house-warming party.
Since his mom had taught him manners, Bryce was bringing a bottle of wine—picked out by Zef—as a house-warming gift.
Still wearing the Santa hat, Zef emerged from their room, the pink sweater hanging off their thin frame in a stylishly slumpy way.
The ends of the sleeves hung past their wrists, and the hem was nearly as long as their Mrs. Claus dress had been.
Combined with their striped elf leggings, they looked comfy and adorable, and Bryce wanted to snuggle up with them on the couch under a blanket as they watched Frosty the Snowman or A Charlie Brown Christmas.
Since cuddles were out of the question, Bryce settled for complimenting how nice they looked, loving the shy smile they offered in return as they tucked their hair behind their ear.
They caught the train to Gluttony, earning weird looks from the other commuters thanks to their Santa hats, but Bryce wasn’t embarrassed.
Zef didn’t care—or maybe, they were just oblivious to it—so he wouldn’t either.
They were the first to arrive at exactly three o’clock, but Oliver didn’t seem surprised at Zef’s punctuality. He welcomed them inside, giving Bryce a hug and Zef a warm smile.
“Nan made me a Christmas sweater,” Zef said before they’d even removed their shoes. “Bryce said she makes them every year for everyone in the family, and she made one for me. Is that not so thoughtful?”
“That’s great, Zef,” Oliver said as he took the wine Bryce offered him. “It looks nice on you.”