FicWad

Title: Under the Tree
Author: MakaiKitty
Rating: NC-17
Category: Original Fantasy, Holiday Fic, “Strings of Fate” series
Pairing: Victor/Blaine
Warnings: Slash, M/M, Anal, Vampire Blood-play
Distribution: My website, My LJ and any LJs I choose to post at, AFF.net, and FicWad. All of my accounts are under the user name MakaiKitty. If you'd like to use it just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters, daemon realms, and situations in this story are all original and belong solely to MakaiKitty. Please don't steal, borrow, take, or otherwise use anything from my fics.
Updates: Just join my Yahoo!Group to be informed of any updates to this or any of my other fics - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/makaikittyfics
Status: Complete/One-Shot

Under the Tree

December twenty-fourth. Six hours until Christmas. Not that Blaine was counting, he didn’t celebrate Christmas, and his vampire lover most certainly didn’t either, but it was worth noting all the same. He could remember a time, when he’d been very young, before his father had died, when his family might have celebrated Christmas. Then his father had died, his mother had remarried, and his mother and step-father had decided that there were more important things to spend their money on that trees and presents for the children. And the last three years he’d been on the streets turning tricks and living rough, so he hadn’t really been able to take up the traditions on his own. It was hard to string up twinkle lights in your windows when you didn’t have any windows at all.

This year was going to be different though. Not the holiday traditions, there wasn’t a string of tinsel or a sprig of mistletoe in the house, but he wouldn’t be spending the holidays alone out in the cold either. They didn’t live in the north, so it could have been worse, but the past few winters had been hell on Blaine. Then Victor had taken him in, given him a place to call home and a reason to get up in the evening, and everything had changed. He didn’t have to worry about windstorms and freezing rain this Christmas. In fact, he was currently nestled in a huge leather armchair that all but swallowed up his slender frame, wrapped in an expensive cashmere throw, watching a blazing fire crackle and snap away in the massive fireplace.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want the traditional holiday cheer in the house that he shared with his vampire. Not the religious side of it, he’d given up whatever beliefs he might have been raised with a long time ago, but he’d seen a nostalgic movie in mid-November and had been thinking ever since that it would be nice to have a tree in the den and mistletoe in every doorway. He’d even bought Victor a few presents, wrapped them in whimsical paper covered with snowmen and candy canes, and hidden them under the bed. Then he’d dreamed of having that perfect holiday that he’d been denied as a child on more than one December morning. But Blaine knew that Victor would never allow it. He’d never said anything, never told Blaine that he couldn’t decorate and sing carols and wrap presents on the dinning room table, but that was only because Blaine had never asked him. Blaine was certain of that. Victor was a vampire, a sometimes brooding and moody vampire taken to dark tendencies, and Blaine was sure that vampires and Christmas just did not mix. So he kept quiet and reminded himself that he was happy to be warm and safe, sharing a home with a man that he adored, and that life was good for the first time in a long time. With all of that, he didn’t really need a tree.

***
Victor knew why his lover kept sighing and moping around the house, even though he put on a smile any time that Victor caught him and never said a word about anything. Victor actually thought that it was cute that his human thought that he could keep anything from him. The boy wanted a Christmas. He just wasn’t sure why he hadn’t said anything yet. Victor suspected that Blaine didn’t want to anger him, although why one would lead to the other was a mystery to the vampire, and so he was tiptoeing around the issue like he always did when he didn’t want to be a bother. Victor thought that his behavior probably had something to do with the fact that when they’d first met Victor had made it quite clear to the little blonde that he was nothing more than a plaything and that the moment that he stopped amusing him he would be back out on the streets where he’d found him. But Victor wasn’t sure that he was capable of doing that anymore, perhaps he hadn’t been for some time, and that was where his current problems began. His lover was unhappy, and that was making him unhappy, which troubled him to no end. He shouldn’t care about the boy’s moods. Really, he shouldn’t. Playthings didn’t matter.

Leaving Blaine’s change in status, from toy to something more, as a problem for another time, Victor had decided to go about fixing what he could. He might not be able to understand why Blaine’s sighs stabbed at his heart like a blade struck true, but he knew what he could to do stop them. And so, with only six hours to go, Victor was a vampire on a mission.

***
“Blaine?” Blaine jumped at the sound of his own name, woken from a dream that had been filled with the scent of fresh baked sugar cookies and the sounds of tinkling bells and hearty laughter, and looked around. He knew that he had heard his lover calling his name… he just wasn’t sure where he was. He thought that he’d heard the front door a few hours earlier, but that was when he’d lost track of the vampire, and now he was completely disoriented and still slightly less than awake. “Want to come in here for a minute?”

“Depends on whether or not you can tell me where here is.”

“Living room.”

Blaine climbed to his feet, taking the sinfully soft throw with him, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape as he padded down the hallway on bare feet toward the sound of his lover’s voice. As he passed the front door a flash of neon pink caught his eye and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw it. There, taped to the door, was a tiny stick-it note that simply said, Going out, be back before midnight. V. It wasn’t much, something that most people might not have even noticed, but it meant the world to Blaine. A few months ago he had awoken in the early evening to find Victor gone without a word, and when he hadn’t returned for nearly six hours Blaine had gotten worried to the point that Victor came home to find him pacing a track in the floor of the den. Victor had asked him why he was so worked up and Blaine had run into his arms on the verge of tears. Victor hadn’t said anything at the time, but ever since that day if he had to leave without telling Blaine there would be a note tacked to the front door telling the blond where he was off to and when he’d be back. Blaine ran a finger along the edge of the note as he passed, still smiling, and made his way into the living room at the back of the house. What he saw there made him stop dead in his tracks.

Victor had been forced to shield his sensitive eyes when he’d first flipped the switch. He’d wondered if maybe he had overdone it, he didn’t have much experience with such things and he hadn’t known what he should include and what was best to leave out, but one look at his lover’s pale blue eyes, opened wide and nearly as big as dinner plates, and he knew that it was just right. If anyone had told him the previous December that he would be standing where he was, doing what he was doing, a year hence he might well have torn their throats out. Now, there was nowhere else that he’d rather be.

The room was something out of “A Christmas Carol” or “It’s a Wonderful Life”, filled with the traditional trappings of the holiday, all good cheer and happiness. Oversized old-fashioned bulbs, red, blue, green, and yellow repeating eternally, outlined the large picture window that covered one wall. A huge wreath blocked out a good portion of the window itself. The black suede of the couch and armchair were hidden under bright red and green throws, one of them depicting cartoon elves in Santa’s workshop working away on little wooden toys with tiny tools and big smiles. Sprigs of mistletoe hung from the doorway, their leaves the purest green, their berries vibrant in their intensity. The front of the entertainment center, which was a massive monstrosity of onyx chrome that housed a brand new 71” flat-panel plasma TV currently playing “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, was fringed with thick garlands of greenery and pinecones, huge red velvet bows breaking up the strands every few feet. A pure white faux-polar bear rug, sans the gaudy death-mask, replaced the red and gold oriental carpet that normally covered the floor. But all of this was nothing compared to the room’s true gem. A ten foot tree, covered with glittering glass ornaments, feathery birds of every color, and strand upon strand of delicate tinsel, twinkled as its white lights flickered and cast shadows across the room. There was a glowing star on the top and a skirt of pure white that ringed the bottom of the tree and was peppered with perfectly wrapped presents topped with big bows. And, running around it all was a tiny train track with an antique steam engine chugging merrily away as it pulled a line of little coal-laden cars behind it.

“Tell me the truth,” Victor was the first to speak because he thought that it might be the only thing to prevent Blaine from standing in the doorway for the rest of the night, staring wide-eyed around the room, “is the train too much?”

Blaine’s eyes were drawn away from the tree and towards the center of the room by the question. His lover stood, arms folded over a sweater as red at any of the lights, smiling at him as he took it all in with a growing sense of wonder. Blaine didn’t know what to say; he hadn’t known that the vampire had even understood his desire to have what had been created in their living room, let alone that he would want to go to so much trouble just to indulge him in a childish fantasy. He felt his eyes filling with tears, and he ran towards Victor, throwing his arms around him and burying his face against one strong shoulder. Victor held him and stroked a hand down his back, pushing the throw-cape away to better feel his heat, seemingly understanding why he was at a loss for words.

“I guess the train’s not too much then,” Victor teased, not sure what else to do. Blaine rarely cried, save for the times that he shed tears when the pleasure became too great, so this show of emotion was very nearly something new for him. There might have been a time when he’d been equipped to deal with such things, but that was a very long time ago, when he’d been a different person. He didn’t do emotions now. He was as cold as ice inside. Wasn’t he?

Blaine could sense how uncomfortable his tears were making Victor, something in the rigid set of his body and the mechanical movements of his hands, so he did his best to get them under control. He pulled back and wiped his face with the back of his hand, smiling awkwardly and casting his eyes anywhere but in Victor’s direction. He suddenly felt guilty. Victor had done something special for him, something that no one else ever would have done, and now he was crying on him when he knew that the vampire didn’t like great shows of emotion. Only the touch of gentle fingers on his chin, forcing him to look up, made him meet the vampire’s dark eyes. Victor was silent, but there was no anger, and what Blaine saw reflected back at him was something softer than he could ever remember seeing in those midnight depths.

“Victor,” Blaine couldn’t find the words, and Victor seemed more than a little disturbed by his tears, but the blond thought that he might know how to overcome both obstacles. If he couldn’t express himself with words, then the familiar dance of their bodies might somehow convey how he felt. It was something that they both knew well.

Victor was usually the aggressor, but this time Blaine resisted the hand on his chin and pressed forward, pausing only when their lips were at last touching. For a moment the vampire did not respond, but Blaine worked at his lips, nibbling and licking until he was rewarded with an enthusiastic kiss that lasted until they were both at a loss for breath. That was all that it took to ignite Victor’s passions.

When they came together again it was to meet halfway, lips melding with familiarity, arms grasping and hands pulling until their bodies were flush with nary an inch of space between them. Victor devoured his smaller lover, a hand tangled in golden locks to keep Blaine in place, a whimper telling him that he was tugging just hard enough at the younger man’s hair to make pain become pleasure. Blaine clung to Victor and prayed that it would never end. Even the burning in his lungs did not make him want to let go.

With only the barest break for a stolen breath Victor kept their lips pressed together while he walked his lover slowly backwards, bringing them both down to the ground atop the pillowy softness of the rug beside the tree. With the lights throwing shadows across alabaster skin Victor made his way from Blaine’s lips to his neck, using soft lips and sharp fangs to leave tiny marks in his wake, evidence of possession that both men loved to see. Nimble fingers made short work of a green t-shirt that Victor was forced to note, with a wry smile towards his own choices, matched the room’s décor, before moving on to the snaps of Blaine’s button-fly jeans. Victor nipped absently at the delicate flesh just above the waistband and below his lover’s navel as the human writhed beneath him, moaning Victor’s name over and over again, already well on his way to being worked into a frenzy by their kisses. He loved the way that the jeans clung to the lithe body, the way that each snap revealed another inch of pure and unmarred skin, not for the first time pleased to find that Blaine did not believe in underwear. He kissed each sensitive patch of flesh with reverence, not caring for the moment why he was so completely enthralled by his lover this night, why the impassioned kisses had lead to a desire that was thorough rather than rushed and desperate. It was simply another question, one of many it would seem, to consider at a later date.

Victor pulled away the last of Blaine’s clothes and bared his lover fully to his midnight-dark eyes. His pale skin was stark even against the pure white of the rug, the flush of exertion and excitement adding only the slightest pink tinge to his flesh, and that sight was more than enough to spur Victor on. He rose to his knees and tossed off his own sweater with a flurry of movement that had nothing do with his vampiric speed and everything to do with a desire to bask in the heat of the other man’s body. He pushed his slacks off just as quickly, almost an afterthought, while moving down to cover the smaller man with his own bulk. The renewed contact as Victor settled atop Blaine brought a sigh to two pairs of kiss-swollen lips, and any desire for something slow and gentle was suddenly lost in the face of their mutual needs, a bone-deep desperation for more filling them both.

“Victor,” the name was almost indistinguishable, more a moan than anything else, but Victor heard the need in that one word and it drew out an answering growl from him. He bared his fangs and bit down, hard, on the bit of flesh that he had been worrying at with his lips, piercing the skin just above Blaine’s heart and bringing a gush of hot blood into his mouth that forced a muffled cry of pleasure from the vampire. Blaine’s back arched the moment that his body was pierced, mouth open with a silent scream, fingers fisted in the fur beneath them as his essence painted their bellies and orgasm rushed through him. The possessive feel of Victor’s fangs within him, deadly in their menace but hurting only enough to bring him pleasure, was unlike any other sensation that Blaine had ever known. It never failed to undo him.

He blacked out for a moment there beneath the tree, Victor’s fangs still embedded in his chest, and came back to the pleasant scent of some sugary sweetness that was tinged with the metallic tang of his own blood, the familiar sting of moisture slick fingers moving between his legs. Blaine spread his legs wider, gasping softly as that allowed Victor greater access to his inner secrets, and reached down to tangle the fingers of one hand in the strands of Victor’s silky black hair. He loved it when the vampire let his long hair down, let him run his fingers through it and luxuriate in the near unnatural softness, and it seemed that for whatever reasons he was being indulged in even his tiniest desire this night. The thought brought a smile to his face as he turned his head and nuzzled his cheek against the faux-fur. The movement brought his eyes to rest on a small bottle bathed in the glow of the tree lights sitting near his head and it told him in an instant what the strange smell was.

“Gingerbread lube?” He hadn’t even known that such a thing existed. A chuckle from his lover told Blaine that Victor had probably thought the very same thing.

And then there was no more laughter. Victor slid into Blaine’s willing body in one smooth stroke, stealing the breath from them both. Blaine was already half hard again, and the feeling of Victor filling him, stretching him almost to the breaking point, brought a tingle of excitement up his spine, heat pooling between his legs at the familiar sensation.

Victor was shocked every time that they coupled at how well they fit together, how Blaine seemed custom made to accept him, the pleasure never once dulled by familiarity. In fact, each time that they made love seemed to be more mind blowing than the last. He was hundreds of years old, had been intimately acquainted with more men and women than he cared to count, yet he had never experienced such a thing before. He had come close, once, but this seemed to be something more. Deep down that scared the vampire, because Blaine was supposed to be nothing more than a distraction, a way to pass the time while he was stuck in the human realm. Their meeting had been an accident, he’d taken the boy home on a whim, but as they lay there under the tree, bodies interlocked, Victor couldn’t imagine ever giving him up. That thought alone brought a frown to his handsome face, brows furrowed and lips set in a harsh line, his hips snapping and pace picking up as his body took out the frustration of his mind on his lover. When had the blond become something more than what he was meant for, how, his body demanded when his voice could not. How had he become something worthy of the spectacle that their living room had become? Their living room? Even that was not something that should ever have crossed his mind. A low moan and the sound of his name, a chocked whisper, was the only response that he received from Blaine in answer to his unspoken accusations.

Blaine could see so many emotions flashing across Victor’s face, one after the other, even though he was sure that the other man must think his feelings his own. He’d learned to read Victor over the past months, to pick up on the silent cues that most others would have missed. He was certain that Victor’s feelings could never run as deeply as his own did, Victor wasn’t the type of man to fall in love with someone like him, but his heart beat a little faster at the physical evidence of even the slightest response from the man above him. The unexpected surprise of the holiday themed room, the emotions running through dark eyes, the tenderness of his touch despite the furry of his movements, was enough to bring tears to Blaine’s eyes for the second time that night. They streamed, unhindered, down the sides of his face as he arched his back and moaned, grabbing Victor’s arms and thrusting with abandon against the invasion of his lover’s manhood. Showing with his body the feelings that he’d never be able to voice.

Together they raced to completion as the clock struck midnight and a new day was born.

***
Blaine was utterly and completely sated, happier than he had been in years, and he was contented to simply rest in Victor's embrace and marvel at the wonder that his lover had wrought on the room around them. The lights bathed their skin in a multitude of colors, the music filled his ears, and he was filled with holiday cheer. Blaine threaded his fingers with Victor's, smiling when he didn't pull away, and absently ran his foot against Victor's calf. That was when he noticed that his vampire lover was not, as he had originally thought, completely nude. He turned his head as discreetly as possible, looking down and back, and what he saw left his jaw hanging open. Victor Von Kyffin, eternally dignified vampire lord, was wearing a pair of red and white stripped toe socks that went all the way up to his knees.

"Toe socks?" Blaine managed to force the words out, even though he was fighting himself all the while, keeping his laughter in check as best he could. Victor didn't like to be laughed at. Although, with the brightly colored socks decorating his feet, how he could expect anything else was beyond Blaine.

"They looked like they'd go with the theme," Victor shrugged from his place on the floor, knowing how hard his lover was fighting his own reactions and loving every minute of it. That was the main reason that he had picked the socks, after all. He wiggled his toes for effect and watched as Blain’s breath hitched while he fought to keep himself in check. "Besides, they're warm."

That was when Blaine lost it. Even if Victor never forgave him he just couldn't keep his laughter in, and within seconds he was rolling around on the floor, naked as the day he'd been born, howling like a mad hyena all the while. He didn't notice that Victor was laughing just as hard beside him, mostly because the vampire kept his laughter silent, for the most part. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

A peculiar sound from under the tree startled both men out of their good humor however.

"What was that?" Blaine wondered, still fighting to catch his breath.

"I would recommend that you put your pants on," Victor suggested.

"My pants," Blaine asked, more than a little confused. "Why?"

"Well, I'm not sure if that one," he pointed to a large, beautifully wrapped present under the tree, "will keep until morning, and there is just something inherently creepy about you opening it in the nude. That's why."

There was a tiny bit of fear mixed in with his excitement as Blaine reached for his jeans. Won't keep ‘til morning? Coming from Victor, that comment could have a great many connotations. The vampire was anything if not unpredictable.

Blaine finished pulling on his pants in record time and then scooted slowly over towards the box, Victor's eyes on him all the while. When he reached out a hand to touch the bright red bow on the top the entire box rattled of its own accord, causing him to jump back six inches and his lover to laugh.

"Don't worry," Victor assured him, a smile in his voice, "it will not bite." Then he thought carefully for a moment and reconsidered his words. "Not too badly, at any rate."

Blaine didn't know what to make of that comment, so he crawled back over to his box and, with a wave of encouragement from Victor, started tearing at the metallic green paper. He wondered for a moment why there were tiny holes on the sides of the box, six for each side, until he got the lid off and looked inside.

"The yard is simply too small for a pony," Victor said by way of explanation. "So this will have to do for now."

Blaine didn't answer because he was too enthralled by the tiny calico kitten that sat staring up at him from inside of the box, chartreuse eyes glowing in the near darkness, bushy tail swishing side to side. It mewled softly, raising one tiny paw up toward the top of a box that was too high for it to climb, and his heart melted. He’d been feeding the strays in the neighborhood almost from the day that he had moved into Victor’s mansion, and he’d longed to have one for his very own, but Victor liked things in his home to be neat and orderly so Blaine hadn’t dared to hope that he’d let him have an animal inside. He’d been content simply to take care of them, happy that Victor hadn’t been upset over the occasional stray in the yard, grateful for that small consideration and the ready supply of pet food that Victor allowed him. And now he held a tiny little kitten in his arms. Aside from the fact that this was possibly the first gift that he had ever received it was also the cutest thing that Blaine had ever seen. He was in love!

"So," Victor asked, his heart warming as he watched his blond lover cuddle the kitten, the little creature purring loud enough even to be heard half way across the room, "Is this what you have been dreaming of?"

Blaine didn't look at the tree with its bright lights and delicate ornaments, or at the mistletoe hanging from the doorway, or even at the kitten in his lap. He looked straight into eyes the color of midnight and gave the only answer that he could. "Yes."

THE END