Home Is Where The Heart Is

Part 3

Brendon sat behind the front counter in Pete’s salon, playing with a pencil disinterestedly. Out of nowhere, Pete bounces up to him, excited. “Brendon, guess what!” he exclaimed, choosing to ignore his friend’s mood.

“What?” Brendon replied, not looking up.

Pete was practically vibrating with excitement. “The mall hired me to put on the Santa Show! You know, where kids can sit on his lap and ask for what they want.”

Brendon hummed, picking up the phone when it rang but Pete hung it up before he could really answer it. “What?” he looks up finally, annoyance written all over his face.

“I want you to do it. I’m too busy with other things. You need to find a Santa; you need to get Ryan to do it,” Pete says, slapping Brendon’s hand away from the phone when it rings again.

Brendon laughed. “Ryan hates Santa. He isn’t going to do it.”

Pete sighs. “If you’ve done your job, and I know you have, then Ryan will. You just have to be…persuasive.”

Brendon fiddled with the phone cord, staring down at the reservation book in front of him. Finally, he sighs and looks up. “Have somebody cover for me,” Whether he wanted to or not, a small smile makes way across his face.

Pete smiles to himself as he watches Brendon head for the candy shop across the quad. Keltie approaches, eyebrow raised. “He looked kind of happy when he left,” she murmurs, sliding behind the counter and picking up the phone. Pete just laughs and walks off to finish his customer’s hair.

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An involuntary but pleased groan slips through Ryan’s lips as he’s pushed back against the wall of the back room, a leg sliding before his and pressing against his crotch. Lips were sucking, licking and biting his neck, hands roaming beneath his shirt and nails digging into his back. Chin tilting up and a head moving left gave Brendon better access to Ryan’s collar bone. “Shit,” the male hisses as Brendon’s thumbs press into his hip bones.

Brendon pulled away, lifting Ryan’s shirt up over his head before tossing it to the side. Smiling at the disheveled boy in front of him, the elf leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to Ryan’s lips. “You look so hot right now,” he whispers, trailing his hands down Ryan’s chest to the button of his jeans.

“W-What’s the occasion?” Ryan manages to choke out as Brendon dips his head down to bite his shoulder. Suddenly, the boy was on his knees and kissing Ryan’s lower stomach as he unzipped his jeans. Almost automatically, Ryan’s hand comes to hide in Brendon’s hair, gasping as his head falls back against the wall. This was pure torture.

“I wanted a favor. Might as well make it fair,” Brendon murmured, dragging his tongue along Ryan’s hipbone and palming him through his boxers. Ryan’s hips jerk forward at the sensation but a strong hand forces them back against the wall. “Easy there, I haven’t asked you yet.”

“Fuck!” Ryan swears. He knows that Brendon doesn’t like it, so he doesn’t do it often but this time, he can’t even filter himself. “Please, just, okay. What is it?” he sounds hot and bothered; frustrated and just a little bit desperate.

Brendon slowly begins tugging Ryan’s boxers down, grinning as he nearly comes to the end of Ryan’s happy trail. “Pete just handed over a job to me and I want you to play a part in it,” he murmured, stopping to look up at a flushed but confused Ryan. “All the positions have been filled except one,” he adds, dipping his hand into Ryan’s boxers.

Ryan gasps, hand tightening in Brendon’s hair as he stammers out, “W-Which o-one?”

“Santa,” Brendon chirps and suddenly everything goes cold. Ryan’s grip disappears and his shoves Brendon away.