LYLBTB ADVENT EVENT 2013: SE JAKES
A Hell or High Water Christmas coda
Thanks so much for inviting me to the 2013 Advent Event!!!
Okay, so I canât give you much more of a set-up than this would be Prophet and Tommyâs first Christmas âtogetherâ post LONG TIME GONE. I canât say anymore about the timing or else it might have spoilers for Daylight Again (HH book 3)âŠsoâŠhereâs how Iâm envisioning Prophet and Tommy spending this Christmas.
Originally written for Live Your Life By The Book Blog
The Ghosts of Tumblr the live version Past
by SE Jakes
Prophet and Tom were lying together on the couch in Dellaâs living room, their legs tangled together, their faces close. It was impossible to tell if they were asleep or not from the angle Roger and Dave watched them from. But that didnât stop them from watching.
âThey still have their clothes on,â Roger whispered disappointedly. âMaybe we could still try to get them drunk?â
âYouâ already tried that, â Dave told him. âTom didnât take the bait.â
âProphet did. I told you we shouldâve brought in a wind machine,â Roger said. âIf we dump water on them, think it would have the same effect?â
âTheyâd have to take off their clothes, at least,â Dave mused. âAnd if they couldnât find their bagsâŠâ
Roger gave him a kiss on the cheek. âThatâs the Christmas spirit.â
* * * * *
âDo they know we can hear them?â Prophet murmured against Tomâs ear.
âDonât think so. I think they left, though. For now.â Tom stretched out against Prophet. Theyâd ended up on the couch together after a long Christmas Eve dinner, tangled together and unable to move after the big meal Della made. It was nearly midnight, and Della and Remy had already said their goodnights and gone upstairs.
Remy was spending more and more time at Dellaâs house, which was something both Tom and Prophet encouraged. Roger and Dave had also said goodnight too, but apparently, theyâd lied about going to bed. âI shouldâve known they were still hanging around.â
âRoger was trying to get me drunk,â Prophet stage-whispered.
Prophet shrugged. âItâs fuzzy, but I think he said, because thereâs no hurricane?â
Tom raised his brow. âYou remember why he said that, right?â
Prophet narrowed his eyes for a second, then smiled. âOh yeah.â
Because the night theyâd reunited months earlier was in the middle of one such storm. Just thinking about it was enough to instigate sex, and it really didnât matter where they were.
Then again, Tom had to admit it didnât take much anyway. âNo need to excite them moreâtheyâve seen too much as it is.â
âIâd risk it. The grass is nice,â Prophet said wistfully. âTake off your clothes. We can pretend this tree is outside.â
âIâm not fucking you under the Christmas tree.â
âWho said anything about you fucking me?â Prophet gave him a smile that really made him want to take his clothes off.
It was definitely time for a distraction. âI got you a present.â
âWhat is it?â
âHang onâI put it under the coffee table.â Tom turned cautiously. Apparently, Roger and Dave were still off some kind of hide Prophet and Tomâs clothes mission. He grabbed the two gifts and saw a third, with his name on it in Prophetâs handwriting and brought them to Prophet. âThese two are for you.â
âOpen yours first,â Prophet told him.
Tom propped on his elbow and did, ripping off the paper to find a square box. When he opened it, he found a pair of silver captive bead nipple rings. And five RATTLE straight barbells in black, which Prophet pointed to.
âThose vibrate. Theyâll drive you crazy.â
Jesus. If he hadnât been hard alreadyâŠ.âAnd the rings?â
âI like the word captive and Tommy in the same sentence.â Prophet pressed his thigh between Tomâs legs.
âKeep your voice downâyou promised you wouldnât tell anyone,â Prophet said, more loudly than Tom had. âI swear, I think Roger slipped me a mickey.â
âNo one says âslipped me a mickeyâ anymore.â
âObviously I do,â Prophet said indignantly, then added, âLetâs try them on you.â
âIâm not giving a free piercing show to those two. Open your gift.â
âYouâre like the Christmas operative of no fun,â he huffed. âFine. So whatâd you get me?â
âOpen this one first,â Tom instructed.
Prophet did as he was toldâfor once in his life, Tom thought, and watched Prophet pull out the small sketch book. He flipped through it, looking at the drawings Tom had done painstakingly over the past months.
âThese arenât from when you were in Eritrea,â Prophet said finally, and Tom swore the manâs cheeks flushed. But it couldâve been the alcohol.
âNo, theyâre new,â Tom agreed.
âThey look likeâŠplans.â
âBecause they are.â
Prophet stared at him, the gray eyes searching his. âPlans for me.â
Tom could only nod. Night after night, heâd sketched out various parts of Prophetâs body, deciding where heâd put the manâs first tattoo. There were some pictures of piercings in there too, and even if it never came to fruition, the freakinâ book alone was enough to fuel more than enough fantasies to last a lifetime.
From the way Prophetâs eyes glazed with lust, he was in apparent agreement. He leaned in and kissed Tom, a quick, hard kiss that ended with Tomâs bottom lip between Prophetâs teeth for a moment before Prophet let him free.
âOpen the other box,â Tom said, his voice hoarse.
Prophet did so, and nodded seriously. âI can always use more duct tape.â
âSo can I,â Tom told him, then froze. âShit.â
Prophet grabbed him hard and rolled them both off the couch together in an attempt to avoid the gallons of water flung their way. They landed half under the tree with a solid thud, soaked to the skin. âMight as well make the most of it.â
Tom held up the duct tape. âAnd this Christmas operative of no funâs going to enjoy the hell out of this.â