Jim and Marcus

Jim hated Christmas. He hated the whole commercial, stressful, bitchy, overly sentimental, fake thing. Hated having to deal with the fuss. Hated trying to guess what Marcus wanted.

"What do you want for Christmas?"

Marcus tilted his head back. "You. A mug of peppermint hot chocolate and some of those magical brownies you get at the bakery."

He shook his head. "That's not good enough for you. I'm serious. What can I get you?"

Marcus sat up and glared at him. "You are more than good enough for me, so don't let mear hear you say that again."

"I'm not a Christmas present."

"That's where the peppermint chocolate and magic brownies come in."

"That's not good enough. You deserve better."

Marcus wasn't listening.

"Okay, how about you write me a story?"

"A story? Don't you want, like jewelry or clothes or something?" He could write something for Marcus, maybe.

"No, I want a story. A one of a kind Jim gift."

"I... I could try."

"Mmm. I'd like that, baby."

He leaned over, kissed his lover. He hated Christmas, but for Marcus, Jim would try.