Vampire’s Mate Xmas Short #2
“Well, shall we see exactly how wrong they are?” Roman asked, waving a hand to direct Luc into the kitchen.
Danny shook his head as the two frenemies left the room. “Oh my God. Snobs.” But he was obviously delighted at the camaraderie anyway, looking suspiciously close to clapping his hands in joy.
The elephant in the room taken care of—courtesy of mutual snobbery against non-French wine—Jamie took in the full picture Jay presented for the first time. “Um… Damn. Nice outfit, Jay man.”
The little guy looked like he was having an ugly sweater competition with just himself, wearing some giant, obviously thrifted red number with Rudolph prominently displayed front and center, pom-pom nose and everything.
“Fank you,” Jay said demurely around his lollipop. “Your shirt looks really soft.”
“Oh yeah?” Jamie’s grin grew as he had a fucking delicious thought. “Wanna trade?”
The next hour or so passed quickly, Jamie easily wrapped up in the coziness of the living room crew, as they downed homemade eggnog filled with a truly ungodly amount of whiskey.
They’d decided to forgo an official Christmas Eve dinner, as everyone involved in the celebration was a bloodsucking undead monster without the need of human food to survive.
Although, Danny had insisted on a proper Christmas brunch the next day (“We may be vampires, but we still need to respect certain traditions”).
Even Gabe’s glares lessened substantially once Luc was out of the room.
Even more delightfully, it turned out the big guy was susceptible to blushing whenever Jamie flirted with him, which—now that he had that delectable bit of knowledge—he chose to do at every fucking opportunity (lots of “big guy,” “handsome,” and “hot stuff” thrown around), much to Soren’s clear delight.
And Luc was out of the room, for the whole next hour, sequestered in the kitchen with Roman.
Since they weren’t making dinner that night, Jamie wasn’t quite sure what the old fuddy-duddies were up to, unless they were actually doing something insane like talking for once.
It made him the teensiest bit nervous, but Jamie didn’t hear any screaming, crashing, or splashing of blood on the floor, so he had to assume it was going at least sort of okay.
When Luc finally did reemerge, he did a (hilarious, in Jamie’s slightly tipsy opinion) double take at Jamie’s new outfit. “What is that?”
Jamie cocked his head innocently, running a hand down his new knitwear. “Oh, this? Jay lent me his sweater. Isn’t it…festive?”
Luc glanced briefly at Jay, beaming up at them from his cushion on the floor, his petite frame positively drowning in Jamie’s black silk shirt. “You and your new obsession with ‘festive.’ Really, flower, what happened to your good taste?”
“It is though!” Jamie protested. “Look, Rudolph has a little puffball nose!”
“Yes, I can see that.” Luc was clearly still unimpressed. He was turning out to be a real Grinch, even if he was a superhot one that Jamie still sort of, kind of wanted to dick down later.
“Such a shame though,” Soren mused from his place on Gabe’s lap. “I finally get Jay in some decent designer clothing and he somehow still looks like a ragamuffin.”
Now they all looked at the vampire on the floor. And okay, to be fair to Soren’s assessment, Jay had paired Jamie’s shirt with bright-green sweatpants, but Jamie still felt the need to defend the little sweetheart. “I think he looks dashing.”
“Thank you,” Jay said sweetly, dipping his last mango lollipop into his eggnog.
Then it was time for a gift exchange, apparently. Since Soren and Gabe had taken the couch, for the sake of continued peace, Jamie tugged Luc onto the floor beside him, across from Jay and close to the fire.
Jamie settled contentedly against Luc’s side as he watched the exchange of gifts.
On his end, he still didn’t feel like he knew everyone well enough for personalized gifts, so he’d brought general goodies for everyone.
Whiskey from a local Tucson distillery, Christmas crackers for their planned brunch the next day, and a bunch of assorted chocolates he had a feeling Jay was going to demolish all by his lonesome.
So he mostly watched, feeling warm and loose and cozy, as they opened their gifts to each other.
(Except in the case of Soren’s gift to Danny, a box that was “to be opened later” but clearly contained something naughty, if Soren’s smirk and the anticipatory gleam in Roman’s eye were anything to go by.)
A highlight of the exchange was Jay’s clear delight in Soren’s gift to him, a homemade crocheted sweater. “Oh my goodness, Soren! You made this!”
Soren looked like the cat that got the cream. “And I made it two sizes too big, Jaybird, just the way you like it.” He pointed a stern finger. “That means it’s for at-home use only. It’s not fit for public consumption.”
Jay shook his head, already stroking the sweater against his cheek. “No, I have to wear this to work on Tuesday.” At Soren’s expression, his gray eyes widened plaintively. “But I have to show Alicia! She’ll be so jealous you made me something.”
“You knew he was going to insist,” Gabe grumbled when Soren seemed about to protest again, and Soren settled back against him with a huff.
Danny was predictably enthused about…all of it. “This is so nice! Even Gabe and I haven’t had a Christmas together in forever!” he exclaimed happily, toasting Jamie’s whiskey with his own.
“That’s because you were always working,” Gabe pointed out, attempting to reach for the liquor somehow, with Soren still draped over his lap.
“Or you.” Danny paused then, his own glass halting at his lips. “Wait. Actually, how did we both manage to get Christmas off this year?”
Gabe rubbed his nose into Soren’s blond hair, giving up on his attempt at the whiskey. “Soren compelled a few people for us.”
“Soren!” Danny chastised. “You didn’t!”
Soren shrugged a careless shoulder. “You said it was important to you this year, cutie pie.”
Danny took another moment to look completely flabbergasted before he turned again to Jamie, his protestations clearly not running very deep. “And it was so good of you to drive up on Christmas Eve!”
“Oh, no problem.” Jamie waved the hand not holding his beverage.
“My mom’s working the holiday this year.
One of Santa’s social workers.” Although, now that Soren had put the idea of compelling her superiors into Jamie’s head, his mom would definitely not be working Christmas next year; that was for sure.
Eventually, Jamie realized none of the mates had exchanged gifts with each other. When he asked Soren about it, the vampire shot Gabe a lusty glance. “Oh, my gift to Gabe wasn’t exactly appropriate for the group festivities.”
That prompted an “ew” from Danny in the corner.
“What did you get for your…Luc?” Soren asked Jamie, almost politely.
“Oh, I’m getting another tattoo,” Jamie answered airily.
” A big one on the front of my neck. ‘Lucien’ in bold letters.
” It was a joke, obviously. A ridiculous, silly joke.
But Jamie felt a dark pulsing along the bond and turned his head to see Luc’s green eyes burning with unexpected heat.
“Oh my God, you would like that, you possessive perv.” Jamie shook a finger at his mate.
“No branding me. I can’t believe I even have to say that out loud. ”
Luc just gave him a self-satisfied smirk, giving a pointed look in the direction of Jamie’s tattooed hip. “You’re already branded, flower.”
“Gross,” Soren said cheerfully, but at the same time, he gave his own considering look at Gabe’s neck.
Gabe, who’d clearly been paying only half attention to the conversation, gave him a confused grimace. “What?” he asked. When Soren didn’t answer, the conversation seemed to catch up with him, and he frowned down at his mate. “No way. I’m not getting Soren tattooed on my neck.”
“Just a thought,” Soren said mildly, licking at his lower lip.
Gabe directed his frown at Jamie. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
“Something tells me you have your hands full with or without my influence, hot stuff.” Jamie grinned widely as Gabe flushed at his words.
Adorable.
It was surprisingly hard to leave at the end of the night, even knowing they were coming back in the morning for Christmas brunch.
“You know you can always stay in the guest room,” Danny said at the door, reading Jamie’s reluctance to part on his face.
“And suffer the hissy fit consequences?” Jamie asked, tilting his head in Luc’s direction.
“I heard that, flower.”
“You were meant to, monster.”
Jamie sighed and hugged Danny tightly, this sweet vampire so determined to keep bringing them all together. “Merry Christmas, little king.”
“Merry Christmas, Jamie.”
They stumbled into their hotel room, and Jamie was possibly, maybe, the slightest bit tipsy. But he didn’t think Luc was far behind, considering the fact that apparently in the kitchen, he’d been spending his time drinking glass after glass of the French wine Roman had been pouring for him.
Still, Jamie took a moment to look around the spacious room, always interested in what Luc deemed acceptable. “Well, dang. This place is pretty swanky for Hyde Park.”
Luc locked the door with a resounding click. “There’s always somewhere to stay, if you know where to look.”
“Snob.”
“Mm.” Luc stalked toward him, a predatory glint in his eye. “Let’s get you out of this hideous sweater.”
“I like my hideous sweater. It smells like peppermint.” But Jamie let Luc tug it off him anyway, pouting slightly when Luc left it at that. “Don’t you want to get me out of my hideous jeans too?”
Luc gave him a disapproving glance as he folded the sweater carefully. “Those jeans aren’t hideous. I picked them out myself.”
Jamie toyed with the button at his waistband. “But what about what’s underneath the jeans?”