Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Our Christmas Cookbook - 22. A Very Wyvern Christmas
A Very Wyvern Christmas
By Valkyrie
Gilbert picked up the sweater he’d been instructed to wear to the party, then threw it on his bed in disgust. Jenna was nuts if she expected him to actually wear it. It was bad enough he was being subjected to—he shuddered—a Christmas party. But an ugly sweater Christmas party? The horror!
Gilbert loved his friends… most of the time… but Eric was insufferable ever since he met Alejandro. He rolled his eyes. It was impossible to think of the man’s name without the inflection Eric used every time he spoke it. Alejandro… drawing it out and enunciating each syllable with reverence—as though the man was a living deity. Well, according to Eric, he is. At least in bed, thought Gilbert. I seriously don’t need to know that.
Jenna was dating someone now too. Brent. At least Brent was normal. Well, Gilbert thought he was hot, but the man wasn’t arrogant or a jerk or anything. He was nice and treated Jenna well, which made him happy for his friend. And she wasn’t obnoxious when talking about her boyfriend, like Eric was when he talked about Alejandro.
His two best friends had been bad enough while they were single… now that they were dating, they were almost relentless with trying to get him a boyfriend.
Scratch that.
They were relentless with their questions about Hagan.
Hagan… Gilbert smiled and sighed. His eyes widened, and he mentally facepalmed. Son of a bitch… I sound like Eric!
The enigmatic Hagan hadn’t returned since his less-than-sincere attempt at thanking Gilbert for saving his life. Even though Gil had only met him twice, under less than ideal circumstances, and Hagan’s manners left a lot to be desired, he still found the gorgeous man occupied much of his thoughts.
Too much, Gilbert thought. What the hell do I see in him? Yeah, he’s hot, but he’s also a dick. Are my standards really that low? He sighed. Nah. Besides, how many people can say they’ve met a wyvern? That had to play into his attraction to the brusque man. Right?
We’re always watching.
Hagan’s last words to Gil replayed in his mind over and over. He thought it was the implacable dragon’s way of telling him he’d be around. Gil assumed he’d see more of him. He was wrong.
Gil had hoped he’d see Hagan again. He wanted to see more of Hagan. As in all of him. And do things with him. Although maybe losing his virginity to a dragon wasn’t the wisest idea. Fuck.
We’re always watching.
What did that mean? Was Hagan literally watching him? If so, then why didn’t he let him know? Stalker… He glanced at his living room window. If he could see out, others could see in. Maybe he should close the curtains.
It had been two and a half months since Gilbert was attacked by a demon in a dark alley and rescued by Hagan. Hagan was seriously injured by the zug’amath, and Gilbert saved his life.
Yeah… by almost killing him. How was he to know wyverns needed fire to heal? Hagan showed up at his apartment a month later to ‘thank’ him. His thank you left a lot to be desired. But damn if Gilbert didn’t desire Hagan.
Of course, his friends had to be there when Hagan showed up. So on an almost daily basis, they grilled him about the hot stranger. They didn’t believe him when he said there was nothing to tell.
Gilbert jumped when his phone buzzed with a text, jolting him out of his thoughts.
You better be on your way. With your red hottie lol
Gil rolled his eyes and tapped the screen to respond to Jenna.
Leaving now. You owe me for making me wear this stupid thing.
He looked at the sweater warily. Jenna left him no choice, so he put on the bright red, knit garment festooned with a giant felt Christmas tree surrounded by angels and cats. The tree sported ornaments that were actual bells. That jingled when he moved. If the rest of her guests didn’t have equally as humiliating sweaters on, he was never talking to her again.
Gil picked up the spinach artichoke dip he promised to bring, then grabbed his coat and keys and headed to the door. He opened it and ran right into a wall of man, barely avoiding dropping the dip. He yelped and jumped back, heart pounding.
“What are you doing here?” he blurted out.
Hagan scowled. “I can leave.”
“No! Wait! Uh… I mean… come in.” Gilbert stepped aside to let Hagan in.
The wyvern stepped inside and stood, arms crossed. He looked Gilbert up and down, then smirked. “Nice sweater.”
Gilbert reached down and grabbed the bottom edge of the offensive garment and took it off in a series of fumbling motions, bells jingling as he flung it onto the couch. “It was for a party. I didn’t want to wear it,” he mumbled.
“Then why did you?”
“Because it’s an ugly sweater party.”
Hagan raised an eyebrow.
“Everyone who goes is supposed to wear one of those ugly Christmas sweaters with the horrible decorations. Believe me, I wouldn’t wear that thing otherwise.” Oh my God. Why the hell did he choose now to visit! Gilbert reminded himself to breathe. A shiver traveled down his body, leaving him feeling like a giant, raw, exposed nerve. Hagan’s lips looked so red… Gilbert wondered if they felt as soft as they looked.
“I don’t understand this. Why have a party to wear things you don’t like?”
“Uh… well… not sure I can explain it in a way that makes sense.” Gilbert gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything?”
“Anything?”
“Well… um… something to eat or drink… or….” Gilbert trailed off. He blushed, feeling like he was about to self-combust. Or… me. It was taking all his self-control not to openly ogle the man he couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Your face is doing that thing again. Does that mean you’re still sexually attracted to me?”
“Oh my God.” Gilbert groaned.
Hagan smirked. “So that’s a ‘yes’.” He sat on the couch. “Why?”
Gilbert thought he might need to call 911. This pain in his chest had to be a heart attack. “Uh… well… um… are you kidding me?” he sputtered.
“OK. I can understand why you’re sexually attracted to me. What I don’t understand is why I can’t stop thinking about you.” Hagan’s features briefly softened as he looked at Gilbert.
“Why are you here?” Gilbert asked again. He can’t stop thinking about me, and I ask him this! Good one, Gilly. Drive away the man… uh… dragon of your dreams.
Hagan held out a wrinkled, shiny, green gift bag. “To give you this.”
Gilbert blinked and stared at it blankly.
“Well do you want it or not?” Hagan sounded annoyed.
Gil reached out and took the present from the strange man. “You got me a gift?”
“It’s customary for humans to exchange objects in mid-December.” Hagan bounced his leg and wiped his hands on his jeans.
“But you’re not human.”
Hagan nodded. “And you are.”
“Why did you get me a present?”
“Did I not already answer you?”
Gilbert narrowed his eyes. “I don’t understand. You show up here a month and a half ago with a half-assed ‘apology’, and I haven’t seen you since. Now you drop by unannounced and act like a major asshole and give me a present? What the hell?”
“I’m an asshole? You almost kill me, and I’m the asshole?” He stood and snatched the bag away from Gilbert. “On Christmas, humans give presents to those they care about. I won’t make that mistake again.” He moved toward the door, but stopped when he felt Gilbert place his hand on his arm.
“Wait!”
Hagan scowled at Gilbert. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.”
“And you’re as clear as mud!” Gilbert sighed. “Sit down.”
Hagan looked at the door, then at Gilbert, then the couch. He sat down slowly.
“I guess I’m just confused. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. It was very nice of you to bring me a gift.” Gilbert held his hand out.
Hagan hesitated briefly, frowned, and then handed him the gift bag.
“So humans give gifts to those they care about, huh. Does that mean you care about me?” Gilbert asked, smirking.
“Just open it.”
Gilbert tried to suppress his smile. He dug through silver-sparkled tissue paper and removed an object wrapped in white paper. He tore through the paper easily, revealing a carved wooden replica of a wyvern. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he caressed the smooth tan surface. He wondered if Hagan’s skin felt just as smooth.
“Do you like it? It’s more realistic than that joke of an eldur’aife you have.”
Gil glanced at the shelf where his Smaug figurine rested. He snorted. “Well I highly doubt whoever made it has ever seen a real dragon.”
“Obviously. Or else they would have put horns on it.” Hagan scowled. “Well? How do you like the wyvern?”
Gilbert looked at Hagan, smiling. He was surprised to find the other man fidgeting in his seat, biting his lip, and tapping his leg with his fingers. It was the first time he’d seen the brash gargoyle show any sign of insecurity.
“I love it. Thank you. The workmanship is amazing.”
Hagan sat straighter and puffed out his chest. “I carved it myself.”
Gilbert almost dropped the precious figurine. “You what?”
Hagan smiled, the first time Gil had seen one from him. “I haven’t carved anything in centuries. It felt good.”
Gilbert’s eyes widened. Centuries? “Wow. And you made this for me? I’m… just… holy crap.”
“I’m glad you like it. Merry Christmas.” Hagan rose and headed toward the door.
“Wait! You can’t leave!”
Hagan stopped.
Gilbert was flummoxed. “I mean, what the hell? I don’t get you. You disappear for a month and a half. You’re rude to me, tell me you hate humans, and thank me because someone forced you to. And now you bring me this awesome Christmas present! What the fuck?”
Hagan stepped closer to Gilbert until they were inches apart. Gil’s heart beat wildly, and his face flushed crimson with anger and… desire. “I don’t hate all humans. And I didn’t disappear.”
Gilbert swallowed. He pressed his hands against his thighs in an effort to stop trembling. “I haven’t seen you since—”
“I told you I’d be watching. Why do your friends have mates and you don’t?”
Gilbert opened his mouth. What the hell could he say to that?
Hagan ran his hand along Gil’s cheek, causing him to lean into the touch. “Is it because you’re sexually attracted to me?”
“No! Yes! No! What?!”
Hagan leaned down and pressed his lips against the sputtering human’s. Gilbert wrapped his arms around the dragon’s neck and returned the kiss.
“I brought you a present because I care about you.”
Gil nodded. “Yeah. I got that.”
“I’ll come back after your ugly party.” He made no effort to move.
“How about I don’t go? I hope you like spinach artichoke dip.”
“You hope I like what?”
“Never mind.” Gilbert led Hagan to the couch.
Spinach Artichoke Dip
1 package thawed frozen chopped spinach
14 ounces artichoke hearts (I use canned and marinated)
1 8 oz block of cream cheese, softened
2/3 cup sour cream
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup grated parmesan
2 cups shredded mozzarella
3 cloves garlic, minced
Salt and pepper
1. Place softened cream cheese, sour cream, mayo, garlic and seasonings into a blender or food processor and combine.
2. Add in drained artichoke hearts and pulse until blended. It should be a little chunky.
3. Stir in spinach, parmesan, and mozzarella.
4. Bake at 375 degrees for 25-20 minutes, until brown and bubbly.
5. Serve with crackers or baguette slices and enjoy!
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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