December 12

The Hammer Club's charity auction was in two days and Oliver was working too hard and stressed and Jack wasn't going to have it anymore. His master was taking the evening off. Damn it.

To that end, he'd made a lovely supper, which was still sitting in the oven; he'd used their best dishes and lit candles, which were now more than halfway burned down; he'd warmed the massage oils and set them out, but they were cold now. He glanced at the time and sighed. It was after eight now, nearly nine, in fact. Oliver had said he'd be home after his meeting at the club, and Jack realized he'd just assumed it wouldn't take hours and hours, but it still made him pout.

The front door opened, Oliver pushing through, arms full of bags from his favorite guilty pleasure restaurant -- fried chicken, mashed potatoes, Jack could even smell the fried apple pies.

"Oh, Master, you shouldn't have." He went to Oliver, taking some of the bags from his master.

"I wanted to share supper with you, my love." Oliver looked exhausted.

"And I with you. It's in the oven, dryin-- keeping warm." He put the food on the counter in the kitchen, all his pouting and grumpiness fleeing; his master needed him. "Sit, Master. Let me feed you and care for you."

"Thank you, Jack." Oliver grabbed some plates. "What did I miss?"

"Master sit." He took the plates from Oliver and brought the man to the table. "I'm waiting on you, remember?"

"I do love you." Oliver smiled at him, drew him down into a long, slow kiss.

He wrapped his arms around Oliver's neck. "I love you, too, Master. And I miss you. It's like you're a ghost."

"This year's been nightmarish." Oliver settled him on his lap.

"Then change it, Master. You can do anything you want."

"I have."

He tilted his head. "Huh?"

"I told Xavier they need to find another chair. I need time with my boy."

He gasped, his eyes going wide. "Really? Master are you sure?"

"Have I ever been unsure?" Oliver touched his lips. "I need my boy."

"And your boy needs you, Master!" He pressed their lips together.

Oliver groaned, one hand cupping the back of his head, tilting him back, and deepened the kiss. Jack wriggled and rolled, sliding against Oliver's body.

"Needy boy." His master smiled. "You're going to ride me until I come in you, Jack. After we eat."

"Yes, Master. Anything you want." He kissed Oliver again and pressed their foreheads together. "I can't believe you're stepping down for me."

"I would do anything for you, boy." The words were soft, serious.

"I wouldn't ask something like that of you though, Master." Oliver had been the chair of the board for the Hammer since its inception.

"Shh. Fried chicken, then take me to bed. I have need of my boy."

"Yes, Master. Anything you want." He kissed Oliver gently before murmuring, "Thank you, Master."

More of his master: it was the best Christmas present he could think of.