Fic: Christmas Cookies (1/1)
Title: Christmas Cookies (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Alan/Ian
Continuity: Jurassic Park I (1993)
Genre: Fluff, Holiday, Humor, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: For Jurassic Park I (1993)
Summary: Ian is busy baking in the kitchen for his man.
Date Of Completion: December 12, 2022
Date Of Posting: December 19, 2022
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Amblin Entertainment and Universal Pictures does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1186
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
A pinch.
A taste,
A squeeze,
All offered
To please.
Randy Ball
"The Naked Chef"
1986 C.E.
Alan Grant whistled happily as he exited the taxi in front of the brownstone he shared with his husband, Ian Malcolm. He tipped the cabbie generously.
"Hey, thanks, buddy. Merry Christmas.
"Merry Christmas," Alan said cheerfully.
As the taxi drove away, Alan noted the neighbors' Christmas decorations. There were wreaths on the doors and candles in the windows. The city had provided holly that wrapped around the lampposts and snow was piled up on the edges of the sidewalks.
A far cry from Arizona.
Ian had offered to pick him up at the airport but Alan had been feeling mischievous and had said, "Nah, I'd rather you be baking for me in the kitchen, barefoot and bare-assed."
Alan smiled at the memory of Ian's sarcastic retort and carried his suitcase up the stairs and used his key to unlock the front door. "Hey, honey, I'm home!" He smelled gingerbread baking in the kitchen.
"Hey, hubby!" called Ian from the kitchen.
Alan put down his suitcase and Ian came out of the kitchen wearing a full-length apron that said, KISS THE COOK. Alan followed the motto and enjoyed a deep, satisfying kiss.
"Mmm," Ian said as they separated. "Go upstairs and unpack and I'll have Christmas cookies all ready for you by the time you finish."
"Will you do my laundry?"
"Hey, you dirty 'em, you clean 'em."
"Hmph. So much for the return of the conquering hero ." Suddenly, he said, "Wait, you're barefoot and bare-legged?" His hands drifted down Ian's back. "And bare-assed?"
Ian wiggled his ass. "As ordered, hubby."
"Upstairs. Now!"
Ian laughed and Alan spanked him all the way up the stairs.
& & & & & &
Alan awoke, smugly satisfied. Wild, Welcome Home sex was always fun, and Ian's energy had been a joy, indeed.
Bawdy and brainy, just the way I like him.
He stretched indolently. Ian wasn't in bed, but that just meant he was being a good little househusband and baking his buns off in the kitchen.
He laughed, enjoying their little game. His gaze fell on his suitcase set by the door, a not-so-subtle reminder of Ian's to unpack. Smirking, he rolled out of bed and padded over to the bag.
He lifted the suitcase onto the bed he shared with Ian. Everything was the same, which pleased him. The stability with Ian was a soothing balm to Alan, who enjoyed his husband's wackiness but was a person who needed that stability.
He unpacked and put away toiletries while stuffing his dirty clothes in a hamper. He would wash the clothes tomorrow as Ian went to Harvard to teach class. It would be his re-entry day, catching up with so many more mundane details of life
Alan showered and dressed in fresh clothes, combing his wet hair. He went downstairs, whistling a cheery tune.
Ian came out of the kitchen and joined Alan at the dining room table. "Last batch still baking," he said as he sat down after demurely setting an old dish towel on the seat. He was still naked except for his apron.
Alan smirked as Ian squirmed when he sat down. "You're a pretty shade of pink."
"That pretty pink shade is prickly for sitting purposes," Ian grumbled
"Aww, don't be sore." Alan grinned at Ian's glare and flexed his hand. "I'm still expert with a paddle. Barehanded, too, which I suppose is appropriate, considering you were bare-assed to start."
"What got you into such a caveman mood?"
"I dunno, maybe it's all the hunting for fossils." Alan beat his chest. "Ugh, caveman bring home dinosaur meat for cavehousehusband "
Ian rolled his eyes, squirming a little more while Alan laughed.
Alan relented. "Looks like you're in the holiday spirit."
"This is the time of year for it." Ian sat back in his chair. "We should go get a tree tonight."
"A wreath for the door, too."
"See, you're in the holiday spirit, too. How was the dig?"
"Successful, but hot and dusty."
"Typical." Ian dusted off flour from his apron.
"No burnt cookies this year, I hope."
Ian waved his hand. "I was still getting the hang of it. You know, it's pretty amazing that you're happy digging up fossils after seeing the real thing."
"Well, I find it very satisfying to dig up fossils that won't eat me."
Ian rubbed his leg. It had been broken during their first encounter with the dinosaurs and had left him with a slight limp after the mess on Isla Nublar.
Alan was tempted to massage Ian's leg, but that would lead to other things, and he really wanted cookies.
Eat first, then I'll jump him.
Alan liked the he-man bit. He and Ian were academics, but it never hurt to be more caveman once in awhile, especially when he was fully clothed and Ian was naked except for his apron. It hadn't escaped his notice that Ian had chosen to be naked again while he was fully clothed.
Maybe I'll drape him over my lap and flex my hand again.
His hand tingled at the thought of smacking firmly-packed flesh, the sound echoing loudly in the dining room. He licked his lips.
"You're so practical."
"Practicality has kept me alive."
"Aren't you the clever one." Ian squeezed his lover's face. "Cute and brainy. And so hungry for my cookies."
Alan grinned. "Of course! That's why you love me so much."
"Guess so. "
Alan noticed a quick, mischievous glint in Ian's eyes. What was he up to?
The oven timer dinged. "The Christmas cookies are ready." He jumped up and disappeared into the kitchen, giving Alan a great visual feast.
"Mmm, buns are good, too," Alan muttered. "Especially sticky buns."
He rubbed his hands in gleeful anticipation. "You taking those cooking and baking classes was a great idea."
"I think so!"
"I sure get the benefit of your culinary skills."
"You sure do."
"Yep, I sure do." He stretched his arms over his head. "Are these gingerbread men?"
"They're gingerbread."
"Good." Alan brought his hands down and stretched his arms out, interlacing his fingers. "You know, food on a dig isn't the best. Most archeology grad students aren't great cooks."
"Tell me about it. I've been a guest on your digs. Canned pork and beans."
"Ha, ha! Good quality, though. Bush's Baked Beans...with pork!"
"Onions and green peppers."
"Baked to a high sheen."
"Let's not get crazy."
Alan snickered. He relaxed in his chair, eagerly waiting for COOKIES!!!
Ian appeared carrying a plate. "Fresh from the oven."
"Excellent!"
Ian set the plate on the table. He smirked as he saw Alan's beautiful blue eyes widen.
Alan stumbled over his tongue. "What are those?!"
"What do they look like?"
"They're dinosaurs!"
"That's right, gingerbread dinosaurs. See their little Santa hats? " Ian's smirk grew bigger. "Now you can eat them instead of them eating you!"
Alan jumped up, yelling, "I'll turn your pretty pink into candy cane red!" and chased a laughing Ian out of the dining room. Words about sucking candy canes drifted out from the kitchen amongst kissing and spanking noises.
This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)
This story can also be read on AO3.
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Alan/Ian
Continuity: Jurassic Park I (1993)
Genre: Fluff, Holiday, Humor, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: For Jurassic Park I (1993)
Summary: Ian is busy baking in the kitchen for his man.
Date Of Completion: December 12, 2022
Date Of Posting: December 19, 2022
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Amblin Entertainment and Universal Pictures does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1186
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
A pinch.
A taste,
A squeeze,
All offered
To please.
Randy Ball
"The Naked Chef"
1986 C.E.
Alan Grant whistled happily as he exited the taxi in front of the brownstone he shared with his husband, Ian Malcolm. He tipped the cabbie generously.
"Hey, thanks, buddy. Merry Christmas.
"Merry Christmas," Alan said cheerfully.
As the taxi drove away, Alan noted the neighbors' Christmas decorations. There were wreaths on the doors and candles in the windows. The city had provided holly that wrapped around the lampposts and snow was piled up on the edges of the sidewalks.
A far cry from Arizona.
Ian had offered to pick him up at the airport but Alan had been feeling mischievous and had said, "Nah, I'd rather you be baking for me in the kitchen, barefoot and bare-assed."
Alan smiled at the memory of Ian's sarcastic retort and carried his suitcase up the stairs and used his key to unlock the front door. "Hey, honey, I'm home!" He smelled gingerbread baking in the kitchen.
"Hey, hubby!" called Ian from the kitchen.
Alan put down his suitcase and Ian came out of the kitchen wearing a full-length apron that said, KISS THE COOK. Alan followed the motto and enjoyed a deep, satisfying kiss.
"Mmm," Ian said as they separated. "Go upstairs and unpack and I'll have Christmas cookies all ready for you by the time you finish."
"Will you do my laundry?"
"Hey, you dirty 'em, you clean 'em."
"Hmph. So much for the return of the conquering hero ." Suddenly, he said, "Wait, you're barefoot and bare-legged?" His hands drifted down Ian's back. "And bare-assed?"
Ian wiggled his ass. "As ordered, hubby."
"Upstairs. Now!"
Ian laughed and Alan spanked him all the way up the stairs.
& & & & & &
Alan awoke, smugly satisfied. Wild, Welcome Home sex was always fun, and Ian's energy had been a joy, indeed.
Bawdy and brainy, just the way I like him.
He stretched indolently. Ian wasn't in bed, but that just meant he was being a good little househusband and baking his buns off in the kitchen.
He laughed, enjoying their little game. His gaze fell on his suitcase set by the door, a not-so-subtle reminder of Ian's to unpack. Smirking, he rolled out of bed and padded over to the bag.
He lifted the suitcase onto the bed he shared with Ian. Everything was the same, which pleased him. The stability with Ian was a soothing balm to Alan, who enjoyed his husband's wackiness but was a person who needed that stability.
He unpacked and put away toiletries while stuffing his dirty clothes in a hamper. He would wash the clothes tomorrow as Ian went to Harvard to teach class. It would be his re-entry day, catching up with so many more mundane details of life
Alan showered and dressed in fresh clothes, combing his wet hair. He went downstairs, whistling a cheery tune.
Ian came out of the kitchen and joined Alan at the dining room table. "Last batch still baking," he said as he sat down after demurely setting an old dish towel on the seat. He was still naked except for his apron.
Alan smirked as Ian squirmed when he sat down. "You're a pretty shade of pink."
"That pretty pink shade is prickly for sitting purposes," Ian grumbled
"Aww, don't be sore." Alan grinned at Ian's glare and flexed his hand. "I'm still expert with a paddle. Barehanded, too, which I suppose is appropriate, considering you were bare-assed to start."
"What got you into such a caveman mood?"
"I dunno, maybe it's all the hunting for fossils." Alan beat his chest. "Ugh, caveman bring home dinosaur meat for cavehousehusband "
Ian rolled his eyes, squirming a little more while Alan laughed.
Alan relented. "Looks like you're in the holiday spirit."
"This is the time of year for it." Ian sat back in his chair. "We should go get a tree tonight."
"A wreath for the door, too."
"See, you're in the holiday spirit, too. How was the dig?"
"Successful, but hot and dusty."
"Typical." Ian dusted off flour from his apron.
"No burnt cookies this year, I hope."
Ian waved his hand. "I was still getting the hang of it. You know, it's pretty amazing that you're happy digging up fossils after seeing the real thing."
"Well, I find it very satisfying to dig up fossils that won't eat me."
Ian rubbed his leg. It had been broken during their first encounter with the dinosaurs and had left him with a slight limp after the mess on Isla Nublar.
Alan was tempted to massage Ian's leg, but that would lead to other things, and he really wanted cookies.
Eat first, then I'll jump him.
Alan liked the he-man bit. He and Ian were academics, but it never hurt to be more caveman once in awhile, especially when he was fully clothed and Ian was naked except for his apron. It hadn't escaped his notice that Ian had chosen to be naked again while he was fully clothed.
Maybe I'll drape him over my lap and flex my hand again.
His hand tingled at the thought of smacking firmly-packed flesh, the sound echoing loudly in the dining room. He licked his lips.
"You're so practical."
"Practicality has kept me alive."
"Aren't you the clever one." Ian squeezed his lover's face. "Cute and brainy. And so hungry for my cookies."
Alan grinned. "Of course! That's why you love me so much."
"Guess so. "
Alan noticed a quick, mischievous glint in Ian's eyes. What was he up to?
The oven timer dinged. "The Christmas cookies are ready." He jumped up and disappeared into the kitchen, giving Alan a great visual feast.
"Mmm, buns are good, too," Alan muttered. "Especially sticky buns."
He rubbed his hands in gleeful anticipation. "You taking those cooking and baking classes was a great idea."
"I think so!"
"I sure get the benefit of your culinary skills."
"You sure do."
"Yep, I sure do." He stretched his arms over his head. "Are these gingerbread men?"
"They're gingerbread."
"Good." Alan brought his hands down and stretched his arms out, interlacing his fingers. "You know, food on a dig isn't the best. Most archeology grad students aren't great cooks."
"Tell me about it. I've been a guest on your digs. Canned pork and beans."
"Ha, ha! Good quality, though. Bush's Baked Beans...with pork!"
"Onions and green peppers."
"Baked to a high sheen."
"Let's not get crazy."
Alan snickered. He relaxed in his chair, eagerly waiting for COOKIES!!!
Ian appeared carrying a plate. "Fresh from the oven."
"Excellent!"
Ian set the plate on the table. He smirked as he saw Alan's beautiful blue eyes widen.
Alan stumbled over his tongue. "What are those?!"
"What do they look like?"
"They're dinosaurs!"
"That's right, gingerbread dinosaurs. See their little Santa hats? " Ian's smirk grew bigger. "Now you can eat them instead of them eating you!"
Alan jumped up, yelling, "I'll turn your pretty pink into candy cane red!" and chased a laughing Ian out of the dining room. Words about sucking candy canes drifted out from the kitchen amongst kissing and spanking noises.
This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)
This story can also be read on AO3.