This is my (late) gift for the AmeCan Christmas Gift Exchange 2015.
For: Matthew ( @sabukunoami )
I used the Santa Suit prompt, but I’m not quite sure this is what either of us were expecting as the end result for it. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it, and I’m so sorry this was late advice: never agree to three nine-ten hour work shifts in a row.
Hopefully you had a wonderful holiday and here’s to a Happy New Year!
At least the one that Kirkland Publishing had hired for that year’s Christmas party was. Whether it was a mistake or a real decision someone made Matthew had yet to figure out. Not that he minded of course. After all, this “Santa” was a sunny blond with a body made for sin and thighs that just begged to have a head between them.
Though Matthew doubted that he was the only one that wanted to do so judging by just how many repeats there were for photos on Santa’s lap. He, himself, already had three. He could blame it on the eggnog in the morning, but even if his buzz was barely noteworthy the man couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Honestly, he was proud that he had made it this far into the office party without getting completely sloshed. Which, really, was the only reason anyone came to these things. Kirkland’s was notorious for turning a blind eye to anything that happened and providing a heinous amount of liquor. Matthew was usually all over that, but he was trying to control himself after last year’s “Banana King Incident”. It wasn’t as bad as the “Pirate Captain Incident” that Mr. Kirkland had the year before that, but in his case people were more likely to let it go than, say, send him a fruit crown every few months.
By the fifth time he ended up on Santa’s lap he couldn’t exactly say just how far from sobriety he was. Only that he had no problem wrapping the arm around the man’s neck, and practically draping himself on that firm toned body. He still had his clothes on though, so at least he could say he wasn’t that far gone.
“So. Santa. What if I said the one thing I wanted for Christmas was you. And me. In one of the supply closets that haven’t already been occupied,” Matthew said somewhere against the man’s ear and collarbone.
At least that’s what he meant to say. He wasn’t exactly sure if the right words made it out of his mouth or not. Though judging by the scarlet suddenly flooding the other’s face he knew it wasn’t a completely slurred mess.
“Well,” the man’s voice came out high before he cleared his throat, “I mean, Santa is absolutely flattered, but unless we both want to end up with coal in our stockings I should take you to dinner first.”
“There’s this little place about three blocks down 12th. The chef can make some mean bacon and pancakes. Its called my apartment,” Matthew said moving his face to watch the other with a cheeky grin.
“Or…there’s that’s diner across the street? We can at least get some coffee in you,” Santa’s face was still as red as those impossibly tight leather…latex?…shorts.
