A/N: I asked for slashy Christmas prompts and had lots of great suggestions. This is a combination of two that fitted together well. So, thanks to EdwardsAddiction for the reason that they end up stuck in Chicago for Christmas, and to ParanoidBeau and Judas Manifesto for adding the pancakes and syrup. I hope you guys like what I did with your ideas.
Thanks to kgq for checking it was American enough, and to Beckybrit and Miss Dare for prereading and kicking my ass in g-chat as usual.
This hasn't been betaed so any grammar mishaps are all down to me.
Happy Holidays everyone!
"Crap!" Jasper exclaims in frustration as he clicks and scrolls on his laptop. "All flights out of O'Hare today are cancelled due to the snow."
"Shit, really?" I move to sit beside him and stare at the screen despondently. "I knew I should have gone earlier, it was stupid to leave it so late to travel."
"So that's it then," he shrugs. "We're both stuck here for Christmas."
We phone our parents to apologize and commiserate, and when we're done we collapse at opposite ends of the couch and let out matching sighs.
Then Jasper grins in that way that always makes my stomach flip a little.
"Okay we need a plan," he says decisively.
"Well the refrigerator is empty apart from some disgusting things of Emmett's that are probably long past their use by date. So we need to go out and buy food, and beer. I mean, we're not going to get our mother's Christmas turkey now, but that doesn't mean we need to starve."
"Okay," I shrug.
Even though I'm sad about not getting to see my family, a little part of me is secretly quite excited at the prospect of having Jasper all to myself, without Emmett and Peter around.
In the supermarket it's mayhem. Shopping carts block all the aisles, there are people everywhere and it takes us forever to find all the things we want.
We fill our cart up with a few basics that we need plus all the stuff that we like, on the basis that it's Christmas and we should treat ourselves. We get pancake ingredients (essential), pizzas (easy), beer (obviously also essential) along with assorted chips, cookies and chocolate.
The girl at the checkout looks at us appreciatively. I blush and avoid her eye but Jasper grins smoothly and chats to her as she scans our shopping.
"Oh my God, Ed," he gasps dramatically, grabbing my arm. "I nearly forgot!" He pushes past me and heads back towards the shelves.
"Forgot what?" I call after him.
"Tequila!" he yells back over his shoulder. "We need tequila, and lemons."
So, apparently tequila is necessary. I shrug and grin apologetically at the checkout girl. "Sorry, he'll be back in a minute."
He returns flushed and panting, tequila in one hand and a bag of lemons in the other.
"There," he grins at me triumphantly as he puts them down. My stomach flips again and I hold his gaze just a little too long before I realize that I'm staring. Jasper's smile does things to me.
When I drag my eyes away I notice that the checkout girl is looking at us with a knowing smile on her face. She turns her attention back to our groceries and I get back to packing the bags.
When Jasper's paid she grins at us both. "You boys are cute together. Happy holidays, have fun with your Christmas Tequila."
I'm struck dumb and feel my face flame as I realize her misconception. Jasper chuckles and replies easily. "He's not my boyfriend. I don't think he swings that way, unfortunately." He flicks a glance sideways at me as he says it and my face burns even hotter.
I turn and hurry for the door, my arms full of bags. The bitterly cold air cools my cheeks and the darkening late-afternoon sky hides the flush that I know is still lingering. Jasper falls into step beside me and neither of us mention what just happened. My head keeps going back to his last word, unfortunately. I can't help thinking about the implications. They thrill me and terrify me all at the same time.
As we unpack our groceries I'm still running over what just happened. Jasper's never made any secret of his sexuality, but this is the first time that he's ever indicated that he has any interest in me. But then he assumes I'm straight, so why would he?
When I was younger I'd always expected that I'd get a girlfriend eventually, and that when I did things would feel right. But then I had a fling with Bella in our last few months at high school and the chemistry was non-existent. I mean, she was beautiful, I could appreciate that. But for me it was like appreciating the beauty of a work of art. I'd look at her flawless skin, her dark eyes and delicate features and think, yes, she's gorgeous. But when I kissed her it left me cold.
I wasn't ready to examine why that might be, and was grateful that leaving home and going to different colleges gave me the excuse to break it off with her. So, I came to Chicago and managed to spend my first year avoiding girls and wanking to internet porn. And if I found myself looking at the guys rather than the girls when I came, well... I didn't really want to examine that too closely either.
Then at the end of my first year, Peter, a friend from one of my classes asked me if I wanted to share an apartment with him and two other guys from school. And that was how I met Jasper.
After only a week of living with Jasper I could no longer deny that I was attracted to men, or to one man in particular anyway. The morning that I ran into Jasper coming out of the bathroom, sleep-rumpled and wearing only a pair of bright red boxer briefs, it felt like all the blood in my body rushed to my dick. I stumbled past him into the bathroom and jerked off in the shower while I imagined his lips around my cock. I came so hard I nearly fell over.
I spent the next couple of months nursing my unrequited crush. Occasionally I'd catch Jasper looking at me in a way that made me wonder, but I never dared encourage him. I was too shy to know where to start.
But now we're all alone in the apartment, stuck together for days... and his words keep echoing in my head.
I don't think he swings that way, unfortunately.
So, he obviously wishes that I did, which is very interesting indeed.
We cook pasta for dinner. My mom taught me how to make a mean Marinara sauce so I put my knowledge to good use while Jasper mostly gets in the way in our cramped kitchen. But he plies me with tequila shots so I don't complain. Licking lemon juice off garlic flavored fingers is gross, but watching Jasper licking his fingers clean more than makes up for it.
After that we chill out on the couch and play video games while we drink beer. I feel pleasantly buzzed from the alcohol, enjoying that strange sense of elation that tequila always gives me. When it starts to wear off we both start to yawn.
Jasper switches the TV on and flicks through the channels until he finds a movie that interests him.
"Die Hard, Jasper, really?" I roll my eyes. "Haven't you seen this like a million times?"
"Bruce Willis is hot," he shrugs. "And it's awesome. You just have no taste."
I can't be bothered to argue. Even if I could, Jasper's pout would win me over. So I lie back at my end of the couch and allow our feet to tangle together companionably as we watch.
Okay, I guess Bruce Willis is kind of easy on the eye. He really works that dirty, sweaty look that's for sure. I don't need to concentrate on the plot because I've seen it so many times before, so my gaze keeps flicking to Jasper when I think I can get away with it. I sigh. He's so fucking beautiful, Bruce Willis is no competition. Jasper's face is intent as he concentrates on the movie. The only other light in the room comes from a dim lamp behind us and the flickering light from the TV screen plays on Jasper's features. I admire his full lips and high cheekbones, and imagine how his messy curls would feel wrapped around my fingers. Suddenly I'm very grateful for the blanket that's covering my lap.
When Die Hard finishes we grab another beer each and collapse back on the couch. This time we sit side by side with our feet on the coffee table. We leave a careful, guy-appropriate distance between us and I wish he'd sit closer, but have no idea how to make that happen.
I have control of the remote this time and I settle on It's a Wonderful Life.
"Don't you dare say a word," I say with a sidelong glare at Jasper. "It's a classic Christmas movie and I love it."
He quirks his eyebrows at me and his mouth twitches with amusement, but he doesn't say anything. We settle back to watch it. It's one of my favorite films, I've always liked old movies. My mom's into them, and my sister and I always used to watch them with her at Christmas when we were kids.
Jasper's yawning next to me and when he's emptied his beer and put the bottle on the coffee table he slouches back further onto the couch and pulls his blanket up higher. It's only when I feel a warm weight on my shoulder that I realize he's fallen asleep and has slumped sideways onto me. His shoulder is a little bony and is sticking into mine in a way that's not entirely comfortable, and his head is heavy where it flops on my shoulder. But I don't care. He's warm and perfect and when I'm unable to resist the temptation to check, I find out that his hair smells delicious. Warm and clean and boyish. His hand lies in his lap, fingers in a relaxed, sleepy curl and I long to take it and thread our fingers together.
I watch the rest of the movie, keeping perfectly still so that I don't disturb him. When it finally ends I switch the TV off and shift gently. The movement makes him stir.
"Jas," I say quietly.
He makes an outrageously cute snuffly noise. Then instead of pulling back as I'm expecting, he snuggles in closer, bringing his free arm around to wrap around my waist.
"Jasper," my voice squeaks embarrassingly. But the increased volume does the trick and he releases me and sits up, rubbing his eyes, looking confused for a moment.
"Oh, sorry, Man," he smiles easily, seemingly totally unembarrassed at falling asleep on his roommate and accidentally hugging him. But then his face turns serious and his eyes are still on mine. I can't tear my eyes away and I can feel my traitorous cheeks flushing as I look back at him.
"That's okay, the drool will wash out." I break the tension by resorting to teasing.
He chuckles. "Hah, me drooling over you? You wish."
I try to find an appropriate comeback but I'm all out of ideas. So I just stare at him again like an idiot. Fuck my life.
"Okay," I finally say, pushing the blanket off me and standing up. "I guess I'll head to bed then."
"Yeah, me too." Jasper checks his watch as he stands too. "Oh, and by the way – Merry Christmas!" His smile is blinding and my heart lurches in my chest.
"Merry Christmas, Jas," I smile back. "See you in the morning."
I sleep late in the morning, and when I finally drift into consciousness, the first thing I remember is the feel of Jasper's head on my shoulder and his arm wrapped around my stomach. I'm lying on my front and my morning wood is pressed into the mattress. I roll over onto my back and reach into my pajama pants to curl my fingers around my dick. It's not unusual for me to start my day jacking off to random thoughts of Jasper, I've long got over any awkwardness that I used to feel about it. It's not like I can stop myself.
I take care of business slowly, lazily at first. My hand moves carefully over warm skin, my thumb grazing the head with each leisurely stroke. I push my t-shirt up with my other hand and idly trace patterns on my belly, my chest, my nipples. When I get close I push my pants down around my hips and throw the covers off. Now there's nothing lazy about my movements as I buck up into the grip of my hand, chasing my orgasm, my other hand reaching back to knead my balls. I come with a gasp, covering my hand, a few drops splashing on my belly.
After wiping up I doze again for a while, enjoying my sleepy post-wank state of relaxation until I hear the sound of clattering coming from the kitchen. My stomach growls and I realize I'm hungry. So I rouse myself and shuffle through to find Jasper.
He's obviously a man with a mission. I stop in the doorway and he has his back to me and doesn't notice that I'm there. He's surrounded by ingredients and there's flour liberally scattered on the kitchen surface and even on the floor. He's whisking something with enthusiasm and it makes his ass wiggle slightly. I watch appreciatively for a moment, while I have the chance.
"Morning, Jas," I finally greet him.
He turns and smiles. "Hey, Ed."
There's a smudge of flour on his cheek. My hand itches to reach up and brush it away so I distract myself by moving to the refrigerator in search of juice.
"You want some?" I hold up the carton.
"Yeah, thanks," Jasper replies, focused on whisking again. "Oh, fuck!" He curses as the mixture slops over the edge of the bowl and soaks the front of his t-shirt.
He stops whisking to pull it over his head and toss it on the back of a chair, then carries on with what he was doing.
"D'you need any help?" I ask, trying not to stare at the lean muscles of his torso shifting under his skin as his arm moves furiously. The movement is suddenly very reminiscent of what I was doing twenty minutes or so ago and I feel a rush of heat low in my belly at the thought.
"You can put the pan on to heat up," he says. "I'm nearly done here."
Glad to have a job to do I get the pan on the stove. Our kitchen's small and I have to pass close behind Jasper to get to the stove. I squeeze past again to retrieve the butter from the refrigerator and my upper arm brushes against the warm skin of his back. My breath catches in my throat.
I concentrate on melting the butter, coating the bottom of the pan evenly, desperately trying not to look up. I've seen Jasper shirtless lots of times but I know that if I look at the flat plane of his belly now, or at the small peaks of his nipples, I won't be able to tear my eyes away.
He moves to stand next to me, his arm grazing mine as he ladles the batter into the pan. I move away quickly.
"I'll get out plates and stuff," I mutter as I put some distance between us. I need to calm down or I'll be getting a boner any minute now, and as I'm commando under my pajama pants it will be really fucking obvious.
I set the table and make coffee while Jasper prepares a stack of pancakes. When they're ready we sit opposite each other and dig in. As we eat, we talk about what our respective families will probably be doing right about now. I find it hard to take in what he's saying because I'm finding the sight of his fork disappearing between his lips with each mouthful way too mesmerizing. He seems to be holding eye contact more than usual and once or twice his bare feet touch mine under the table. I wonder whether it's deliberate.
The syrup bottle is sticky and when Jasper helps himself to more, he brings his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean and I can't look away. He's looking down at his plate at first but then his eyes move up to meet mine and I forget to breathe. His blue eyes are dark, his pupils suddenly huge. I break the gaze, my heart pounding as I take another forkful but my appetite has gone and I can barely manage to coordinate chewing and swallowing.
Silence stretches out between us and I scrabble desperately for something, anything to talk about but my mind has been wiped by my hormones.
"Shit," Jasper's voice breaks the uncomfortable tension and I look up again to see that some syrup has dripped down his front from his fork. He chuckles ruefully. "Damn, I'm such a messy eater."
My eyes fixate on the golden trickle that lies on the smooth skin of his stomach, just above his navel, and I realize that I'm staring again. My face heats but I can't look away.
"You wanna help me out with this?" His voice is husky, hopeful.
I nod, still staring at the syrup on his belly. "Okay," my voice comes out as a whisper.
When he stands and moves toward me his dick is hard, tenting the thin fabric of his pajama pants. It seems I'm not the only one going commando. I push back my chair and he nudges my knees apart to stand between them and puts his hands on my shoulders. I look up at him and he smiles, dirty and sweet. I lift my hands tentatively and place them on his hips, feeling his warm skin under my fingertips as I pull him closer.
I lick at the syrup, tasting the sweetness along with the slight salt of his skin. His scent fills my nostrils and I drink it in as I flick my tongue lower, teasing his belly button until he jerks and pulls away with a chuckle. I drag him back and run my lips over his abs, feeling the texture of his taut muscles beneath the skin. I thrill when I hear his breathing hitch.
"My turn," he says pulling back again. "Take your shirt off."
He doesn't need to ask twice. I rip it off as though it's on fire and drop it on the floor.
Jasper pushes me back in my chair then snags the bottle of syrup and tips it up, trickling a line of syrup across my chest from nipple to nipple. Then he draws a squiggly path down the center of my stomach. I jump at the cool tickle of the viscous liquid on my skin and my cock twitches. I watch Jasper's face as he does it, intent and hungry. He knees between my legs and sets to work, cleaning my skin with hot swipes of his tongue as his fingers grip my thighs.
He starts with my chest, licking his way across to each nipple in turn, then moves downward following the trail of sticky sweetness. At first I don't know what to do with my hands. I want to touch him but I'm shy, awkward. But when he reaches the line of hair below my navel and his tongue laps at the syrup that's staining the waistband of my pajama pants, I stop over-thinking and my hands find their way into his hair and twist into messy, dark-blond strands.
He moves his hands now, his fingers skimming the skin above the fabric of my pants as he hooks them into the elastic. He looks up at me and his eyes are glazed, cheeks flushed. "Is this okay?" He asks. I just nod; I couldn't possibly speak right now.
He frees my cock and it springs up against my belly before he curls two fingers around it and pulls it forward to meet his lips. He licks lightly around the head and my toes curl, and then he opens his mouth and draws me in. I'm so fucking grateful that I jacked off earlier, otherwise I'd probably come in thirty seconds flat at the sight and sensation of Jasper with his lips wrapped around my dick.
He licks and sucks and his hands are on my thighs spreading them wide as his thumbs tease my balls. I move my hands to his shoulders and squeeze as I feel the beautiful tension start to build. "Fuck… I'm close," I warn him and he hums in response, the vibration just adding to the sensation. He presses on the skin behind my balls and I come, my hips jerking up uncontrollably as I shoot into his mouth. He keeps sucking as I ride it out and then pulls away and swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he lifts his head to look at me.
I reach for him, wordless, but needing him closer and he straddles my lap as I pull his face to mine and kiss him hard, tasting my cum as our tongues slide together. I reach down to touch his erection through his pajama pants and he moans, pushing into my hand. His fingers curl around my wrist and his other hand pulls at his waistband. He shoves my hand inside until I feel hot skin, silky and wet under my fingertips. I grip and slide and break away from the kiss to look down and watch my hand moving over his cock. His hands are in my hair, on my shoulders, gripping urgently as his breathing becomes shaky.
"Oh, fuck," he whimpers. And then he's coming, his fingers tugging painfully on my hair as his back arches and his dick pulses in my hand, hot cum splashing between us.
When he's finished he kisses me again, breathless and urgent at first. But then it changes to slow and sweet and eventually we pull apart, flushed and smiling shyly at each other, sticky with cum and syrup.
"Wow," Jasper finally breaks the silence.
"Yeah," I grin back goofily. It's the best I can manage.
"Shower?" He says.
"I guess." I'm not ready to lose this intimacy. My hands are still holding his hips firmly in place, reluctant to let him move away from me.
"I meant together," his lips quirk.
"Oh, okay." And the goofy grin is back.
As we peel ourselves apart he laughs. "When we ended up stuck together for Christmas I never thought it would this much fun."
"Me neither," I take his hand and pull him towards the bathroom. "This is shaping up to be my best Christmas ever."
A/N: So, what did you think?