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Instead, he was in Santa’s sleigh. Currently freezing his balls off.
The magic of Christmas blah blah blah had lasted just about as long as it took for that first blast of arctic air to sneak up the back of his fur-lined cloak.
Love him, hes snarky
Aidan had met attractive men before. He’d lived in Ireland for God’s sake,
I feel ya bother
But he’d never had his heart and his cock get on the exact same page before, and scream, yes, this is exactly what you want. Over him. Under him.
“What about a phone number? Do you have one of those?”
Initially, Aidan had been an irresistible combination of puzzled charm and inherent mystery, and then he’d smiled, and Dexter had found his heart beating just a little bit faster.
It’s been ten minutes since you left, and it’s the longest ten minutes I can remember.
I guess you might want to know if I’m single.
You’re bold my dude
Dexter
This was a long ass letter, I haven’t written this much in a single session in like forever
I knew that though, already, because you smiled. Not at first. But when you did? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
By the time I’d be finished with you, you’d not only have a thorough working knowledge of the sleigh, you’d be thoroughly utterly kissed.
Your emails make me smile, they make me laugh, they make me wish you were right here, next to me.
Why am I still doing it even though you’ve made it clear that none of the Tír na nÓg elves give a shit about me wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day? I guess it makes me feel a little bit closer to you, and I’ll take that. Dex
I’m very into the implications of mistletoe, especially if you’re the one standing under it.
PS If I was there, you wouldn’t need all those blankets—or the hot cocoa either. I’d keep you plenty warm.
He’s not even a guy, he’s an elf, and he’s trying to start a revolution in the North Pole so we can be together more.
whether you’re magical and special to everyone else or not, I know that you’re absolutely magical and special to me.”
checking the knot to make sure the end was totally closed and wouldn’t explode everywhere. Easiest way to look like there’d been a particularly grisly murder at the bakery.
He was going to want Dexter every day of his life.
“I want you,” Aidan murmured, lips only a millimeter from his own. “I want you to take me. To make me yours.”
“I thought I was going to make you mine.” “I was wrong,” Aidan said, leaning forward, punctuating each word with a single kiss. “I’m already yours.”
He hadn’t fallen in love with Aidan right now. He’d been attracted to him immediately. Had wanted to know him. But it had happened so slowly, so gradually, that he hadn’t even realized he was falling until he was sliding down that last little bit of slope, head over heels.
But I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if I was selfish and let you do something you didn’t want to do—or that you weren’t ready for. Maybe that’s what love is. If it is, it kinda sucks.
The first thing he saw was Dex’s cup of half-drunk cocoa, and he burst into tears.
Somehow, he still wasn’t sure when, he’d fallen in love.
Because he knew, as strongly as he’d known anything in his life, that he would be going back.
Even if he could live without Aidan, he didn’t want to.
If Dex couldn’t relay all the minute details of his life, all the insignificant chaff that might not matter to anyone else, were they actually happening? Was he really living? He wasn’t sure.
“Also, I thought I might stop by, see if the offer was still open,” Dex said, his casual voice the direct opposite of the huge bag at his side, and the burning love in his eyes, “because I still want you, if you’ll have me.”
“Good, because you never know when Santa will get a harebrained idea into his head that he needs to play matchmaker and ruin all our hard work, deliberately sabotaging the sleigh.”
