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aftanithTitle: The Perfect Gift
Author: AFTanith
Fandom: Parabellum (original fiction)
Pairing(s): Stelian Frost/Sparrow
Prompt(s): OTP Christmas 2015 Day 8. The Perfect Gift
This Beneficence thing was bad enough before she really stopped to consider what it meant for her. It was one thing to know that Frost was particularly invested in the idea of making her enjoy the holiday, even if doing so fucking killed her (to be a bit hyperbolic), but it was another thing entirely when it finally sank in that this would be the first time she ever actually had anyone expecting her to participate in the holiday. And that meant that for the first time in her life, she would be not only be financially able to but downright expected to purchase people gifts.
That was something she had absolutely no idea how to do.
When that truly horrible thought first occurred to her, she tried to be as rational about it as she could. Who, she asked herself, would actually be making these expectations of her? Frost would, no doubt, and that would be a problem, but he was far from the only one, she suspected. Surely Simon and Nadia would expect her to offer them gifts if only as a token of friendship, and while they would probably be reasonably forgiving of whatever shortcomings her meager attempt at gift-giving involved, the other friend who she knew would be expecting something--Loretta--was likely a very different story.
But shopping for them would probably be easier than she feared, Sparrow decided. Simon and Nadia would at least have enough mercy not to call her anything to her face of she completely fucked this up, and shopping for Loretta probably wouldn't be any next than just asking the woman what piece of expensive frivolity she wanted to be given. Shopping for Frost, however, was a horrifying prospect.
Sparrow spent days on it, raking her mind for a single acceptable idea of what she could possibly pass off as a heartfelt gift. The only thing she was sure that Frost wanted was her, and he already has one of those. Any other ideas of what she could give him amounts to unsavoury propositions and uncomfortable scenarios. She had no idea what to do.
And so, as the second week of December began, she decided to do the only thing she could about it: she asked him.
In retrospect, she probably could have brought it up at a better time than she did, but Frost had a tendency to fill the silence whenever he could with whatever he could, as if he thought he might lose more than just her attention if he let it slip from him for more than a few moments when they were alone. So in the blissfully quiet moment when he was lying beside her under the covers, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, Sparrow posed her question.
"What do you want for Beneficence?" she asked, and he laughed breathlessly, as if he didn't quite believe she was being serious.
But when she rolled into her side and curled up against him, an arm thrown faux-affectionately over his chest in an uncomfortable cuddle, he seemed to get the message.
Or maybe not. He smiled at her, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and his answer was distinctly unhelpful. "You've already given me everything I want."
It figured that she'd wind up stuck with the world's sappiest rapist. He sounded like something out of a bad Four Loves Day film. "I was thinking more along the lines of something cheap I could pick up at the mall." He laughed again. "Frost, I'm serious. That's what normal people do this time of year, right? They buy each other shit to, like, express affection through material goods?"
"This is your idea of expressing affection?" he asked, amusement etched into every feature.
"As much as I'm willing to offer you, yes. Do you want a fucking gift or not?"
He had no right to smile so sweetly at her, but he did it anyway. Nothing new there. "Darling, I'm serious, too. You really don't have to worry about buying me anything. I have what I want."
She stared back at him, unimpressed. "You really can't just tell me 'hey, buy me a pocket watch' or some shit? I am offering to buy you a stupid present, and you're turning me down. That is just..." She searched for a word for a moment, unable to find one to accurately does what exactly she for about his apparent determination to be as frustrating as possible. "Ungrateful."
Oddly enough, that seemed to sway him.?
"You're right, love," he said, just as he always did whenever he thought it best to admit she had a point. "I just don't want you to feel like it's some kind of obligation. You don't have to get me anything if you don't want."
She hesitated for a moment. There was a part of her that wanted to jump through that loophole, to take his words at face value and simply move on to worrying about what she was going to get everyone else in her life, instead. But she knew better than to take anything Frost said at face value; even if he meant the words, believing in them usually wasn't the best option. And this time, she had the feeling that was the case.
"I want to," she said firmly, fingers trailing over his chest. "So give me a damn clue, would you? Or am I just supposed to make a bunch of wild guesses?"
He was still smiling at her, presumably either amused by her insistence or genuinely mistaking it for a sign of actual affection. Either way, she didn't mind. "You could. It might be interesting to see what you come up with."
"Not in anything resembling a good way, I'm sure. I can hardly shop for me; how am I supposed to shop for you? Besides, I think this whole holiday thing is going to go better so long as I can be sure I'm not giving you something you're going to absolutely hate."
"I can't think of a single thing you could possibly get me that I'd hate." His arm moved from his side, nudging between her body and the mattress beneath her, and she shifted to let him slid it around her. "I'll be more than happy with anything you decide to give, believe me."
He seemed determined to be as unhelpful as possible. Nothing unusual there. "You're inviting gag gifts at this point, you realize? And I don't meant the cutsey 'ooh, it's vaguely sexual' kind. I mean, you're getting dangerously close to being given a hula hoop or a dollhouse or some shit. Enjoy that, will you?"
Frost only laughed. "I'm not worried about that; you're too tight with your money to do something like that."
"Then would you just tell me what you want?"
He rolled over, just slightly as he turned his head to face her. "I'm serious, Sparrow," he said. "I couldn't care less what you give me. What's the saying? It's--"
"If you say it's the thought that counts, I fully intend to smack you."
He chuckled quietly. "Well, it is, isn't it? Get me whatever you want, darling. I don't want to tell you what to go get me; the holiday's not supposed to be about me asking for something. It's about giving someone something that you think they deserve."
Sparrow's eyes narrowed just slightly. "You realize that's a very dangerous thing to say to me?"
He shrugged--or at least he approximated the gesture, his arm and shoulder pinned as they were by her body. "So be it. If you decide I've been a bad boy this year, feel free to go ahead and get me a lump of coal. That'll at least be amusing."
"You lost me."
Frost just leaned forward, pressing his lips against the top of her head. "We need to get you caught up on the holiday's myths and traditions and whatnot, don't we?" he asked, and he didn't pause enough for her to get in her very vehement no. "Now, I'm going to sleep. Do me a favor and try not to stay up worrying about this, alright?"
Sparrow rolled her eyes, but she fell silent anyway. That conversation hadn't given her a single idea that she could actually use. Frost was playing hard to get, trying to squeeze some genuine affection out of her whether she liked it or not, and she didn't even know why she was surprised.
He might wind up getting nothing from her this year, after all.
Author: AFTanith
Fandom: Parabellum (original fiction)
Pairing(s): Stelian Frost/Sparrow
Prompt(s): OTP Christmas 2015 Day 8. The Perfect Gift
This Beneficence thing was bad enough before she really stopped to consider what it meant for her. It was one thing to know that Frost was particularly invested in the idea of making her enjoy the holiday, even if doing so fucking killed her (to be a bit hyperbolic), but it was another thing entirely when it finally sank in that this would be the first time she ever actually had anyone expecting her to participate in the holiday. And that meant that for the first time in her life, she would be not only be financially able to but downright expected to purchase people gifts.
That was something she had absolutely no idea how to do.
When that truly horrible thought first occurred to her, she tried to be as rational about it as she could. Who, she asked herself, would actually be making these expectations of her? Frost would, no doubt, and that would be a problem, but he was far from the only one, she suspected. Surely Simon and Nadia would expect her to offer them gifts if only as a token of friendship, and while they would probably be reasonably forgiving of whatever shortcomings her meager attempt at gift-giving involved, the other friend who she knew would be expecting something--Loretta--was likely a very different story.
But shopping for them would probably be easier than she feared, Sparrow decided. Simon and Nadia would at least have enough mercy not to call her anything to her face of she completely fucked this up, and shopping for Loretta probably wouldn't be any next than just asking the woman what piece of expensive frivolity she wanted to be given. Shopping for Frost, however, was a horrifying prospect.
Sparrow spent days on it, raking her mind for a single acceptable idea of what she could possibly pass off as a heartfelt gift. The only thing she was sure that Frost wanted was her, and he already has one of those. Any other ideas of what she could give him amounts to unsavoury propositions and uncomfortable scenarios. She had no idea what to do.
And so, as the second week of December began, she decided to do the only thing she could about it: she asked him.
In retrospect, she probably could have brought it up at a better time than she did, but Frost had a tendency to fill the silence whenever he could with whatever he could, as if he thought he might lose more than just her attention if he let it slip from him for more than a few moments when they were alone. So in the blissfully quiet moment when he was lying beside her under the covers, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, Sparrow posed her question.
"What do you want for Beneficence?" she asked, and he laughed breathlessly, as if he didn't quite believe she was being serious.
But when she rolled into her side and curled up against him, an arm thrown faux-affectionately over his chest in an uncomfortable cuddle, he seemed to get the message.
Or maybe not. He smiled at her, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and his answer was distinctly unhelpful. "You've already given me everything I want."
It figured that she'd wind up stuck with the world's sappiest rapist. He sounded like something out of a bad Four Loves Day film. "I was thinking more along the lines of something cheap I could pick up at the mall." He laughed again. "Frost, I'm serious. That's what normal people do this time of year, right? They buy each other shit to, like, express affection through material goods?"
"This is your idea of expressing affection?" he asked, amusement etched into every feature.
"As much as I'm willing to offer you, yes. Do you want a fucking gift or not?"
He had no right to smile so sweetly at her, but he did it anyway. Nothing new there. "Darling, I'm serious, too. You really don't have to worry about buying me anything. I have what I want."
She stared back at him, unimpressed. "You really can't just tell me 'hey, buy me a pocket watch' or some shit? I am offering to buy you a stupid present, and you're turning me down. That is just..." She searched for a word for a moment, unable to find one to accurately does what exactly she for about his apparent determination to be as frustrating as possible. "Ungrateful."
Oddly enough, that seemed to sway him.?
"You're right, love," he said, just as he always did whenever he thought it best to admit she had a point. "I just don't want you to feel like it's some kind of obligation. You don't have to get me anything if you don't want."
She hesitated for a moment. There was a part of her that wanted to jump through that loophole, to take his words at face value and simply move on to worrying about what she was going to get everyone else in her life, instead. But she knew better than to take anything Frost said at face value; even if he meant the words, believing in them usually wasn't the best option. And this time, she had the feeling that was the case.
"I want to," she said firmly, fingers trailing over his chest. "So give me a damn clue, would you? Or am I just supposed to make a bunch of wild guesses?"
He was still smiling at her, presumably either amused by her insistence or genuinely mistaking it for a sign of actual affection. Either way, she didn't mind. "You could. It might be interesting to see what you come up with."
"Not in anything resembling a good way, I'm sure. I can hardly shop for me; how am I supposed to shop for you? Besides, I think this whole holiday thing is going to go better so long as I can be sure I'm not giving you something you're going to absolutely hate."
"I can't think of a single thing you could possibly get me that I'd hate." His arm moved from his side, nudging between her body and the mattress beneath her, and she shifted to let him slid it around her. "I'll be more than happy with anything you decide to give, believe me."
He seemed determined to be as unhelpful as possible. Nothing unusual there. "You're inviting gag gifts at this point, you realize? And I don't meant the cutsey 'ooh, it's vaguely sexual' kind. I mean, you're getting dangerously close to being given a hula hoop or a dollhouse or some shit. Enjoy that, will you?"
Frost only laughed. "I'm not worried about that; you're too tight with your money to do something like that."
"Then would you just tell me what you want?"
He rolled over, just slightly as he turned his head to face her. "I'm serious, Sparrow," he said. "I couldn't care less what you give me. What's the saying? It's--"
"If you say it's the thought that counts, I fully intend to smack you."
He chuckled quietly. "Well, it is, isn't it? Get me whatever you want, darling. I don't want to tell you what to go get me; the holiday's not supposed to be about me asking for something. It's about giving someone something that you think they deserve."
Sparrow's eyes narrowed just slightly. "You realize that's a very dangerous thing to say to me?"
He shrugged--or at least he approximated the gesture, his arm and shoulder pinned as they were by her body. "So be it. If you decide I've been a bad boy this year, feel free to go ahead and get me a lump of coal. That'll at least be amusing."
"You lost me."
Frost just leaned forward, pressing his lips against the top of her head. "We need to get you caught up on the holiday's myths and traditions and whatnot, don't we?" he asked, and he didn't pause enough for her to get in her very vehement no. "Now, I'm going to sleep. Do me a favor and try not to stay up worrying about this, alright?"
Sparrow rolled her eyes, but she fell silent anyway. That conversation hadn't given her a single idea that she could actually use. Frost was playing hard to get, trying to squeeze some genuine affection out of her whether she liked it or not, and she didn't even know why she was surprised.
He might wind up getting nothing from her this year, after all.
