Feeling a surge of Ethan's magic, Rupert stepped quickly into the darkened living room. "What are you doing?"

Ethan gestured toward the tree, decorated but unlit. "There obviously needs to be flame. It's traditional."

It sounded sensible, but Rupert knew Ethan. "I'd rather prefer to have a tree this year, and not a charred stick."

Ethan turned away, but Rupert could feel his smile. "One little fire imp and I'm never forgiven."

Wrapping his arms around Ethan, Rupert replied, "I merely said I'd prefer not to repeat the experience."

"Well, what do you suggest then? That I never perform magic again?"

"Why don't we light the tree together?" As they joined their magic into one, Ethan leaned into his husband and purred, and Rupert knew this is what he'd wanted all along.