Underneath the Mistletoe

by Riley Cannon

This was written for Fiola, who wished for:

Pairing/Character(s): B/K
Keyword/Phrase: "Are you a fag?"
Canon/AU/Either: Either
Special Requests: Very smutty. Toby on bottom, please.*

This was an Oz Magi Wish, written for Fiola, who wished for:

Pairing/Character(s): B/K
Keyword/Phrase: "Are you a fag?"
Canon/AU/Either: Either
Special Requests: Very smutty. Toby on bottom, please.*

Title: Underneath the Mistletoe
Author: Riley Cannon
Series: Domestic Incidents
Subject: B/K, Ryan O'Reily, extreme AU; rated NC-17 Archiving: At Unit B; anyone else, please ask first. Feedback: That's been well taken care of; just enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: Tom Fontana & HBO own them, I just play in the sandbox.

Warnings: Romance, Santa perving. g

~Underneath the Mistletoe~

Brrr. The tempterature had dropped dramatically since he'd gone into the store. Toby shivered and set his shopping bags down for a second while he buttoned up his overcoat and adjusted his scarf. Taking his time as he soaked up all the holiday scenery, every shop window bright with lights and cheerful displays to lure you inside and max out your credit cards. The big fat Christmas tree in the plaza was a tribute to gaudy splendor and carollers decked out in Victorian costume, filling the air with their perfect harmony -- *"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go..."* -- added just the right touch. Over the top and occasionally tacky, maybe, but he loved it.

Humming along with the singers, Toby picked up his bags and strolled along toward the plaza, stopping beside a Salvation Army Santa at the corner. "Hey, how's it going?" he asked, tugging off a glove so he could dig some loose change out of his pocket.

"It's goin'," Santa said, not exactly oozing Yuletide cheer.

Toby dropped some coins in the kettle and pushed up his glasses to take a closer look at this fairly dour-faced Santa. "Couldn't you use a little more padding? I've seen better beards too." The guy wasn't a bad looking Santa, that wasn't it, but he wasn't what you'd call warm and cuddly either.

Piercing blue eyes glared at him. "There a reason you're not moving on along?"

He sniffed. "I'm enjoying the singers. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nah, knock yourself out," Santa grumbled back, jingling his bell as another guy stopped to make a donation and wish him a merry Christmas. "Yeah, fine, you too," the tall, muscular-looking Santa replied, not encouraging the guy to linger.

"You're supposed to go ho ho ho -- merry Christmas," Toby pointed out when they were alone again.

"Yeah," Santa growled again, "I got your ho ho ho for you."

"Well, fuck," Toby moved in closer, "somebody's running low on their Christmas spirit, aren't they?" he finished, rubbing a hand along Santa's arm. "Anything I can do about that?"

Santa gave him a mysteriously long-suffering look and shook his head with an air of exasperation. "So, what, you're a fag?"

Toby smirked. "I'm shocked. I didn't think Santa Claus knew about things like that."

Those intense blue eyes might have warmed up just a shade. "Yeah, you'd be surprised what Santa knows."

"I expect that's true. And, really, is it wrong to make the Yuletide gay?"

And if this Santa's belly didn't jiggle like a bowl full of jelly, Toby was positive he'd heard a snort of laughter. "So have you been naughty or nice this year?"

"Hmm," he pooched his lips out, thinking about that, "that might depend on who you asked."

A blue eye winked at him. "Maybe you've done some naughty things that felt really nice?"

Taking the wink for encouragement, Toby checked they weren't being observed and ran a hand over Santa's nice, firm ass. "Could be," he was close enough to whisper in Santa's ear now. "The guy I did them to certaintly enjoyed it."

"Yeah? So if I came down your chimney tonight, you'd make it worth my while?"

"Actually I was thinking more along the lines of you going up my chimney."

"Ah, Jesus Christ," this was a new and aggravated voice, directly behind them, "don't you two ever give it a rest?"

Toby let out a huff and turned -- and burst out laughing at sight of the tall, lanky elf standing there with two cups of coffee. "Oh, man."

"Yeah, laugh it up, Beecher," Ryan O'Reily grumbled. "Anything going on, Keller?" he asked, handing one of the cups to Chris.

"Not much." Chris made a face, having some trouble with his Santa beard as he tried to take a drink. "No sign of our guy anyway."

"What guy would this be again?" Toby looked up and down the street for suspicious characters but the most he could spot were two dogs, a Golden Lab and a black Chow, casing a fire hydrant.

Chris gave him a cautious look, far too casual for Toby's liking as he said, "A guy we're keeping an eye on."

Oh, yes, very informative. "You'll be careful?"

"Always am."

Hmm, Toby might dispute that but this one time he'd let it go. "When do you get off?"

Chris shrugged. "Another couple hours."

Toby nodded and checked the street again, noting the other Salvatation Santa's were operating solo. "Nobody else has an elf."

"Got a special dispensation," O'Reily informed him. "And then we tossed a coin."

"Yeah," Chris' smile would have rivaled the Chesire Cat's for being huge and mysterious, "funny how that turned out."

"Oh yeah," O'Reily grumbled with a pointed look at him, "fucking hilarious."

Well, red was a good color on Chris. "Guess," Toby sidled close again, "I should head on home then." And wait. He really hated the waiting part.

"Guess you should. I'll be there soon as I can."

"I know, but that's never soon enough."

Chris touched his face, smile wistful now. "For me either."

Not caring who saw, Toby turned his head to press a quick kiss to Chris' palm.

He could practically hear O'Reily's eyes rolling, though, and had to share a smile with Chris as the Irishman snarked, "Yeah, great, thanks for the Hallmark moment."

Halfway home, while he waited for the light to change, Toby called Chris' cell. "Hey, can you keep the suit?"

A long pause, then, "Yeah?"

"Good. See you soon." The light changed and he drove on, chuckling to himself as he imagined the look on his lover's face right now.

Chris let himself in quietly, glad to be home. A couple of hours had turned into more like five, but at least he and O'Reily had collared their perp at the end of it all. It always felt good to wrap up an important case before Christmas. Keeping the Santa Claus suit on had felt kind of silly, true enough, but he had long since accepted that he was always going to suck at saying no to Toby. There weren't a lot of instances when he'd had any cause to regret that weakness, however, and he had every reason to expect that winning streak would continue.

He paused in the living room entryway, smiling at the sight of Toby sacked out on the couch, glasses askew on his nose and a book about to slip from his fingers. Chris snagged the book and set it over on the coffee table along with the glasses, debating how to proceed. Tempting to wake him up, yes, but just as appealing to enjoy him like this, quiet and so fucking adorable. Going with that one, he slipped Toby's shoes off and shook out the blanket laid over the back of the couch. Covering him with that, Chris sat down, resting Toby's head on his thigh and slowly stroking his hair.

There was only the reading lamp on, and their Christmas tree gleaming over by the window, and it was wonderfully easy to relax there and let all the aggravations of the day drain away. He was sorry he'd missed saying good night to the kids, but he would catch up with them in the morning and he really couldn't feel bad about having their dad all to himself.

Slouching down a bit, fingers tangled in his lover's silky hair, he was thinking it would be incredibly easy to fall asleep right here when Toby began to stir to life. "Hey."


He smiled. "Umm hmm."

That got a contented sound from Toby, followed by an expansive yawn and a deep sigh. "You're home."

"Or maybe you're dreaming?"

"Huh-uh. I know the difference."


"Can't smell you in my dreams." Toby kissed his hand, sucked the skin. "Can't taste you."

No, dreams left a lot to be desired that way.

Blue eyes opened halfway and thin lips curved with a smile. "You kept the suit."

"Said I would. So how long've you had a thing for Santa?"

The smile deepened. "Not long. Only since tonight, actually." Toby was moving around now, provoking some pleasurable sensations in the process. "Where's the hat and beard?"

"Mighta lost them in the process of something."

A soft huff, then, "Was there a trip to the E.R. at any point?"

"Nope." Chris held out his right hand, though. "Skinned a knuckle a little bit."

Toby kissed the abrasion. "Better now?"

He smiled, nodded. "Yeah, lots." And he wasn't entirely kidding. Coming home to Toby and the life they had made for themselves always cured what ailed him. Some flash of precognition told him he was about to feel really spectacular as Toby sat up and reached for him, pulling him in for a kiss that started slow and soft and easy, warm lips nibbling his mouth, the tip of that wicked, wild tongue darting against them and coaxing its way inside to flick against his palate and sizzle all the way down to his toes.

"Wow," he let Toby stretch him out on the couch, "so guess you're glad to see me, huh?"

A bright smile confirmed that and the blond head lowered to plunder his mouth again, one hand slipping under the Santa coat to press against his crotch. "Yes, well, I'm guessing that's not a lump of coal in your pants, Keller."

He laughed, cupped both hands around the nape of his neck. "That's a good guess, Beech." His laughter died in a groan as Toby's face burrowed against his neck, lips and tongue feasting on his throat. Eyes closed, he savored the shuddery pleasure of that tongue darting along a tendon and tickling along his jawline to exquisitely torment that juncture of jaw and ear. Wonderful as that was, he needed more, now, and he dragged Toby's face to him so he could kiss that devilish, delectable mouth and make him moan and squirm.

"Kids are asleep?" he whispered, starting to unbutton Toby's shirt.

"Yes." Toby moaned, fingers digging into his hair as Chris nuzzled his throat.

"But maybe," he kissed that mouth again, the tip of his nose, "it would be a good idea to take this upstairs?"

"They could handle Daddy kissing Santa Claus," Toby said, but then frowned and admitted, "but yes, Daddy blowing Santa might be another story."

Laughter smothered against his neck, Chris wondered how it was possible to keep falling in love with someone over and over. "Bedroom?"

Toby nodded. "Bedroom." He slid off the couch and caught Chris' hand, pulling him up and tugging him along to the stairs. They got to the bedroom, their bed already turned down and waiting, lamps turned low -- mistletoe strung along the headboard.

He had to laugh again, loving him like crazy. "Guess you got all the bases covered, huh?"

"I do try to think of everything."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

Toby nodded solemnly. "It would be hard to miss."

Chris grinned, pulled him tight so their hard ons rubbed against each other. "Baby, that ain't all that's hard to miss right now." And hell, a blind man could find that dick. He slid a hand between their bodies, cupping Toby's crotch and squeezing, drawing a needy moan from him. "What do you want, Toby?" He murmured the words between kisses. "You want my hands, my mouth?"

Stroking his hair, fingers digging down to the scalp, Toby humped his hand and groaned out, "All of that, everything." He bit his ear, licked it, complained, "But you've got too many clothes on."

"Thought that was the idea," Chris said as Toby unbuttoned the red coat and dragged it off him.

"Changed my mind." Toby pushed him over to the bed, blunt fingers busy all the while.

Supporting his lover's goals without hesitation, Chris eagerly got into the act and they wrestled each other across the bed, clothing pulled off and carelessly strewn around the room until they were both laid bare, gloriously naked and flushed with excitement. Stretched out on the mattress, hands and bodies twined together, they kissed hungrily, furiously, as they rubbed and pressed against each other, whispering incoherent demands that needed no translation.

Chris raised up on his knees, needing to simply look at Toby for a moment, drink in the sight of him, creamy skin glowing against the dark blue sheets, eyes bright with passion, and that big, beautiful cock begging for his mouth. "Toby..." His fingers stroked along strong thighs, the skin so tender, muscles quivering with desire. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to kiss his way along those thighs, taste that ardor as his tongue skimmed around balls drawn up tight and heavy. Toby cried out and reached for him, guiding his head as Chris licked his way around that gorgeous cock, tracing the tip, sucking it. Oh God, Toby always tasted so good, felt so incredible in his mouth. Sucking him off always felt like a trip to heaven.

But Toby wanted more. He dragged Chris up, kissed him, demanded, "Fuck me. I need you inside me, Chris."

Oh, yeah, he could do that.

Lavishing more kisses on him, Chris fumbled for the nightstand drawer but Toby was ahead of him there, dragging a tube of lubricant out from under a pillow and pressing it into his hand. He smiled, kissed him again, licked his way down that lean, sexy body and between those long legs again. He pushed them up and heard a moan of anticipation as he licked along the perineum and circled the anus, working the lube in slowly, relaxing him with fingers and tongue until Toby was thrashing against the sheets and commanding him to hurry it up, fucking fuck him already.

Obliging was easy and just as desperately desired. Chris pushed into him, all the way, seated there for a moment as he caught hold of Toby's hands and stretched their arms up over their heads. He bent down, kissing his mouth, hips flexing as Toby pushed up against him.

"Move... Keller, please..."

"Shh," Chris nuzzled his temple, gave him what he wanted. Slower, then faster, then harder, the bed rocking with each thrust, working his hand between their bellies to stroke Toby's cock, feeling the wetness spurt over his fingers, all it took to send him on over the edge and come inside his lover, crying out with the power of the release.

"Oh God... so good, Toby, so ... love you, love you..." He sank against him, spent, wet and sticky and beyond content as Toby held him there, stroking his hair, nuzzling him, telling him how much he was loved.

"Merry Christmas?"

He smiled, moved his head enough to kiss him. "Yeah."

And to all a good night.


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