OTP Christmas 2015 | Day #3: Decorations
Dec. 3rd, 2015 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aftanithTitle: Decorations
Fandom: Parabellum (original fiction)
Wordcount: 1182
Pairing(s): Stelian Frost/Sparrow | Stacey Katharos
Prompt(s): OTP Christmas 2015 3. decorations
Sparrow awoke that morning to the distinct sound of hammering somewhere nearby. For a moment, she was baffled as she sat up beneath the covers, and she cast an uncertain glance at Frost. "How can you be sleeping through this?" she grumbled, and she reached out to lightly nudge his shoulder. "Frost. Wake up."
After a few moments, he stirred, letting out a protesting moan as he blinked his eyes open to peer at her quizzically. "Morning," he said, though it sounded more like a question than a greeting.
"Yeah, exactly," she said. "It's morning--quite early in the morning, in fact. So would you mind telling me who's hammering what at this hour?" She caught the corners of his lips creeping upward into an amused little smirk, and she frowned. "And that's not innuendo, so don't even start with me."
"Well, it's the third of December, so I expect the staff has started putting up the Beneficence decorations."
Sparrow stared. "Decorations," she repeated.
"Yes, decorations." He frowned at her distinctly unenthusiastic expression. "As in artistic holiday ornamentation?"
"I know what decorations are, you ass, and even if I didn't, how the hell would 'artistic holiday ornamentation' help me?" she demanded, and her expression darkened when he simply sighed and rolled over, turning away from her. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"
"It's too early in the morning for you to start yelling at me."
"It's too early in the relationship for you to be getting sick of me."
That got him. Immediately, he rolled back to her, an apologetic smile on his lips, and he leaned in close as he slid an arm around her waist. "Never, beautiful. I could never get sick of you."
She scoffed. "I hope not, after all the shit you put the both of us through to get me here." She let herself relax against him, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck as one of her arms snaked up around his shoulder. "Now, you were saying some nonsense about decorations?"
Frost gave a soft hum of agreement. "Yes. The staff decorates the manor for Beneficence every year."
"Didn't they just take down the Prosperity decorations? And the Harvest decorations just before that? What's the point?"
"Holiday cheer," he repeated for what seemed like the millionth time that week, and she sighed her exasperation. "Don't give me that, you scrooge. The rest of us enjoy the holiday season, and you're going to join us. You warmed up to Harvest, didn't you?"
"But not Prosperity," she pointed out. "And what the hell did you just call me? I thought I was a grinch? What the fuck's a scrooge, and why do you feel the need to insult me with nonsense words?"
"A scrooge is the same thing as grinch. And I'm not insulting you; your attitude is... endearingly you, if a bit aggravating."
"I'd say that describes me fairly well, actually." He chuckled into her hair, tickling her scalp with his breath. "What are they putting up, exactly?"
"The usual," he said, and she rolled her eyes. Would she have asked the question if she'd known what 'the usual' was? "Holly wreaths, mistletoe, poinsettias, ivy garland, figurines, and lights inside. Outside, they'll trim the trees and put up more lights and some seasonal statuary."
"They put up statues?"
He shrugged. "I haven't seen the plans this year, but probably, yes. There's usually some celebrity designer in charge of trying to arrange displays of reindeer and sleighs and candy canes into something that isn't hideously tacky."
"Is that even possible?"
"Usually not, no," he said, laughing again. "That's why I've ordered them to put all of it in the backyard since I took control of the manor."
Sparrow rested her temple against his collarbone, still a bit tired from being awoken early by the sound of the servants working. Her eyelids fluttered lazily shut, and she breathed deep, inhaling his scent. Fuck, she though as she tried in vain to muffle a contented sigh, when had she gotten so comfortable with him? "Are they putting up one of those weird trees?"
"If you mean an Evergreen Tree, then, yes, of course."
"Yes, of course," she repeated, unable to keep the mocking tone from her voice. "You realize I know nothing about what you people really do this time of year? Other than pester Solarians for the cheapest labor you can find?"
As usual, her criticism went ignored. "What's weird about an Evergreen, then?"
"Well, that's just it, isn't it? They're ever-green. Why don't their leaves fall off?"
"I believe it's got something to do with the way the leaves are shaped, or something like that."
"You don't know?"
Something about her voice seemed to upset him, because he pulled back slightly, and she glanced up to find him frowning at her. "Well, I'm not exactly a naturalist."
Sparrow couldn't help her laugh. "Get defensive about it, why don't you?" She pulled him back into position, and she brushed her lips against his neck. "You're a bit of a Know-It-All, so why wouldn't I assume you knew?"
"I am not a Know-It-All."
"I thought you didn't want to fight this early in the morning?"
"No, I said I didn't want you to yell at me this early in the morning," he protested, but he had relaxed against her, the tension slipping from his muscles and his voice as quickly as it had appeared. "I said nothing about fighting."
"So you want to yell at me instead, is that it?"
He let out a little moan as her teeth scraped gently over the flesh of his neck, and his hand moved up to settle against the back of her head as he leaned down slightly and brought his lips to hers. "Absolutely not," he breathed, and Sparrow hesitated only a moment before she shifted forward to straddle his lap, a leg on either side of his waist. "I have a much better idea of what I want to be doing this morning."
"Yeah?" It hadn't even been a year, she reminded herself, and yet the little voice of conscience that used to be so vocal about pride and resistance and self-respect had gone all but silent. Should she even care at this point? Hadn't she gotten what she'd been aiming for all along--the ability to use him just the way he was using her? "What's that?"
She rocked her hips against him teasingly, knowing she was every bit as eager as he was. He laughed against her lips. "First, I'm going to fuck you as hard and long as you want--think of it as an early Beneficence present--and then I'm going to take you downstairs, and we're going to decorate the hell out of this house."
Sparrow pulled back, barely suppressing her grin. "You know, that sounds a lot like it's your present, not mine."
"In that case," he said, leaning back against the pillows with a suggestive smirk, "why don't you go ahead and take what you want first?"
"Now that is more like it."
Fandom: Parabellum (original fiction)
Wordcount: 1182
Pairing(s): Stelian Frost/Sparrow | Stacey Katharos
Prompt(s): OTP Christmas 2015 3. decorations
Sparrow awoke that morning to the distinct sound of hammering somewhere nearby. For a moment, she was baffled as she sat up beneath the covers, and she cast an uncertain glance at Frost. "How can you be sleeping through this?" she grumbled, and she reached out to lightly nudge his shoulder. "Frost. Wake up."
After a few moments, he stirred, letting out a protesting moan as he blinked his eyes open to peer at her quizzically. "Morning," he said, though it sounded more like a question than a greeting.
"Yeah, exactly," she said. "It's morning--quite early in the morning, in fact. So would you mind telling me who's hammering what at this hour?" She caught the corners of his lips creeping upward into an amused little smirk, and she frowned. "And that's not innuendo, so don't even start with me."
"Well, it's the third of December, so I expect the staff has started putting up the Beneficence decorations."
Sparrow stared. "Decorations," she repeated.
"Yes, decorations." He frowned at her distinctly unenthusiastic expression. "As in artistic holiday ornamentation?"
"I know what decorations are, you ass, and even if I didn't, how the hell would 'artistic holiday ornamentation' help me?" she demanded, and her expression darkened when he simply sighed and rolled over, turning away from her. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"
"It's too early in the morning for you to start yelling at me."
"It's too early in the relationship for you to be getting sick of me."
That got him. Immediately, he rolled back to her, an apologetic smile on his lips, and he leaned in close as he slid an arm around her waist. "Never, beautiful. I could never get sick of you."
She scoffed. "I hope not, after all the shit you put the both of us through to get me here." She let herself relax against him, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck as one of her arms snaked up around his shoulder. "Now, you were saying some nonsense about decorations?"
Frost gave a soft hum of agreement. "Yes. The staff decorates the manor for Beneficence every year."
"Didn't they just take down the Prosperity decorations? And the Harvest decorations just before that? What's the point?"
"Holiday cheer," he repeated for what seemed like the millionth time that week, and she sighed her exasperation. "Don't give me that, you scrooge. The rest of us enjoy the holiday season, and you're going to join us. You warmed up to Harvest, didn't you?"
"But not Prosperity," she pointed out. "And what the hell did you just call me? I thought I was a grinch? What the fuck's a scrooge, and why do you feel the need to insult me with nonsense words?"
"A scrooge is the same thing as grinch. And I'm not insulting you; your attitude is... endearingly you, if a bit aggravating."
"I'd say that describes me fairly well, actually." He chuckled into her hair, tickling her scalp with his breath. "What are they putting up, exactly?"
"The usual," he said, and she rolled her eyes. Would she have asked the question if she'd known what 'the usual' was? "Holly wreaths, mistletoe, poinsettias, ivy garland, figurines, and lights inside. Outside, they'll trim the trees and put up more lights and some seasonal statuary."
"They put up statues?"
He shrugged. "I haven't seen the plans this year, but probably, yes. There's usually some celebrity designer in charge of trying to arrange displays of reindeer and sleighs and candy canes into something that isn't hideously tacky."
"Is that even possible?"
"Usually not, no," he said, laughing again. "That's why I've ordered them to put all of it in the backyard since I took control of the manor."
Sparrow rested her temple against his collarbone, still a bit tired from being awoken early by the sound of the servants working. Her eyelids fluttered lazily shut, and she breathed deep, inhaling his scent. Fuck, she though as she tried in vain to muffle a contented sigh, when had she gotten so comfortable with him? "Are they putting up one of those weird trees?"
"If you mean an Evergreen Tree, then, yes, of course."
"Yes, of course," she repeated, unable to keep the mocking tone from her voice. "You realize I know nothing about what you people really do this time of year? Other than pester Solarians for the cheapest labor you can find?"
As usual, her criticism went ignored. "What's weird about an Evergreen, then?"
"Well, that's just it, isn't it? They're ever-green. Why don't their leaves fall off?"
"I believe it's got something to do with the way the leaves are shaped, or something like that."
"You don't know?"
Something about her voice seemed to upset him, because he pulled back slightly, and she glanced up to find him frowning at her. "Well, I'm not exactly a naturalist."
Sparrow couldn't help her laugh. "Get defensive about it, why don't you?" She pulled him back into position, and she brushed her lips against his neck. "You're a bit of a Know-It-All, so why wouldn't I assume you knew?"
"I am not a Know-It-All."
"I thought you didn't want to fight this early in the morning?"
"No, I said I didn't want you to yell at me this early in the morning," he protested, but he had relaxed against her, the tension slipping from his muscles and his voice as quickly as it had appeared. "I said nothing about fighting."
"So you want to yell at me instead, is that it?"
He let out a little moan as her teeth scraped gently over the flesh of his neck, and his hand moved up to settle against the back of her head as he leaned down slightly and brought his lips to hers. "Absolutely not," he breathed, and Sparrow hesitated only a moment before she shifted forward to straddle his lap, a leg on either side of his waist. "I have a much better idea of what I want to be doing this morning."
"Yeah?" It hadn't even been a year, she reminded herself, and yet the little voice of conscience that used to be so vocal about pride and resistance and self-respect had gone all but silent. Should she even care at this point? Hadn't she gotten what she'd been aiming for all along--the ability to use him just the way he was using her? "What's that?"
She rocked her hips against him teasingly, knowing she was every bit as eager as he was. He laughed against her lips. "First, I'm going to fuck you as hard and long as you want--think of it as an early Beneficence present--and then I'm going to take you downstairs, and we're going to decorate the hell out of this house."
Sparrow pulled back, barely suppressing her grin. "You know, that sounds a lot like it's your present, not mine."
"In that case," he said, leaning back against the pillows with a suggestive smirk, "why don't you go ahead and take what you want first?"
"Now that is more like it."
© 2015 A.F. Tanith
