Stocking Stuffers Part Three
Alright, guys. There are three more after this, but they're going to have to wait until Sunday. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas full of family and food and presents! And even if you don't celebrate, have a wonderful day. <3
***
For aurilly:
“Have you met any little girls, ever?”
Sawyer looks down sheepishly at the garish pink teddy bear in his hand before chancing a hopeful glance at The Doctor for backup. The Doctor is too busy digging through a bin of discount slinkies to notice (Donna can only imagine what his plans for those are).
“Eyes back on me, Cowboy. I didn’t come all this way for you to buy the first hideous bear you see, you’re going to put some thought into this.”
“I barely know the kid, okay? Forget it, I’ll just give her a twenty,” Sawyer says stubbornly.
“Not on my watch,” Donna says, grabbing his arm and steering him toward a display of tea sets in the process. “I didn’t spend three weeks as a personal shopper for nothing.”
“Personal shopper? I thought you told me you used to be a bartender.”
Donna puts her hands on her hips and grins.
“Super-temp, remember? Now, let’s put some thought into this. What does Clem like?”
Sawyer screws his face up in a look of anguish Donna can’t help but think is completely disproportionate to the situation at hand. Lucky for him, she’s used to impossible men pulling faces.
“You’ve been in her room, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And she’s got dolls and pictures of those Backsinc boys---”
“Jonas Brothers, unless she’s a time traveler too.”
“Excuse me, I’ve been a little too busy being trapped on a damn island to keep up with the new
crappy pop music.”
“Alright, alright, calm down. What else?”
Sawyer turns around slowly, and Donna can tell he’s searching for something, anything that reminds him of Clem. After a moment, his eyes light up.
“You found something?”
Sawyer picks up a bright pink fishing rod and Donna grimaces. “Are you sure?”
“There’s a pond about mile from her house. We take walks there sometimes and last time she got
to asking me about the island, what we ate---every little damn thing. You know how rugrats are. I told about how I had to learn how to fish and she acted like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever heard. I told her on these days, I’d teach her.”
Donna loops her arm through Sawyer’s and smiles.
“That sounds lovely…but let’s pick up a Barbie, just in case, yeah?”
Sawyer rolls his eyes, but Donna is too distracted by the sight of The Doctor appearing in front of them loaded down with slinkies and yo-yos and…yes, that’s paddle ball, to comment on it.
“What’s all this then?”
The Doctor grins happily even as he has to use his chin to keep a package of silly putty from sliding to the floor.
“This store is fantastic!”
Donna shakes her head wearily.
“Completely hopeless,” Donna says. “Come on Cowboy, let’s check out before that one notices the marbles.”
“They have marbles?” The Doctor says excitedly.
Sawyer pats him on the back.
“Let’s go, Doc.”
*
For Pann_cake:
Miles is not a snuggler. Okay, so technically he’s never been in a relationship long enough to test this theory. But in general, he likes sex to be followed by a hasty retreat. That’s a little hard to do when he’s sharing a bed with the guy he’s screwing. Not that Richard’s tried to snuggle. Hell, just the thought of Richard saying the word snuggle seems ridiculous.
They fuck, and that parts is good (really good), then they slide to their separate sides, backs turned and they sleep like they’re brothers being forced to share a bed on a road trip. Even Miles has to admit that’s weird. It’s not that he wants more---except that he does, for the first time ever, he really, really does.
Richard is moving inside of Miles, their bodies’ slick with sweat, Spanish words tripping from his tongue and it’s all Miles can do not to scream. He settles for stifling a groan in his pillow as he comes. Richard immediately moves away from him and the sudden absence of contact makes Miles shiver. He rolls over until he’s staring at Richard’s back and then he thinks screw it---
Miles scoots across to Richard’s side slowly and he can feel Richard’s back tense up as he slips his arm around Richard’s waist. It takes a minute of squirming, but Miles manages to get his knees in line with Richard’s and just like that they’re spooning.
“What are you doing?” Richard asks. There’s an edge of nervousness in his voice.
“I’m not your brother,” Miles says.
“I know that.”
“And I’d like to think we’re a little bit more than fuck buddies.”
“We are,” Richard says softly.
“Alright, then. We’re going to start acting like it.”
Richard is quiet for a minute, but Miles can feel him relaxing. He’s glad one of them is.
“Miles?”
“Yeah?”
“This is nice.”
Miles snorts, and buries his face against Richard’s back.
“Yeah. I guess it is.”
*
For Valhalla37:
Charlotte pokes at the bonfire, watching the embers spark and fly towards the black sky. It reminds her of Christmas lights and fireworks and all the holidays she’s missing out on this year. Daniel sits huddled beside her, his nose inches away from his journal.
“What would you be doing if you were at home?” she asks, startling him so badly he nearly drops his journal into the fire.
“I…don’t know. My mother never really celebrated Christmas.”
“Really? Mine was a bit obsessed with it. Our boughs were always decked,” Charlotte says fondly. “She’ll be having a party tonight. She makes the best pudding.”
Charlotte can feel Daniel watching her with that steady, intent gaze of his. Sometimes she feels like he’s trying to stare straight through her to see what makes her tock inside. She tosses her stick into the fire and shrugs.
“It doesn’t matter, I suppose. There’s always next year.”
Daniel smiles sadly. “Of course.”
“Hey, maybe you could come? We can talk about the time you helped a time traveler keeps his brains from oozing out of his ear. I’m not letting you off the hook about explaining that, by the way.”
Daniel blushes, but when he looks at her his expression is so sincere it scares her a little.
“I’d love to come.”
She grins and takes his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s a date then.”
*
For crickets:
Stefan comes home to find a tree full of twinkling in his living room. That’s a strange enough occurrence, but it’s made all the stranger when he notices a familiar pair of furry boots poking out from under it. He squints at them for a moment until he remembers where he’s seen them before. Smiling, he drops to the floor and slides easily under the tree until he’s face to face with a sleeping Caroline.
Her eyes open and she grins.
“Hey,” she yawns.
“There’s a tree in my living room,” he says.
Caroline’s brow furrows seriously.
“A Christmas tree. It’s Christmas eve,” she says, and then her eyes go wide. “Oh God, you’re not Jewish, are you? Because I can totally get you a menorah.”
Stefan laughs and reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m not Jewish…I’m not anything, really. I haven’t had a tree in decades.”
Caroline stares up into the branches as she speaks and the sight of her face bathed in the glow of the lights makes Stefan feel warmer than any vampire has a right to feel.
“Well, this year you’re having a tree and presents and ham---the whole Christmas experience. Okay?”
Stefan gently turns her face back toward his and kisses her lips, smudging her shiny, pink lip-gloss in the process. She giggles and wipes the gloss from his lips with her thumb.
“That’s so not your color.”
“Thank you,” Stefan whispers.
Caroline rolls her eyes and wiggles closer to him, until she’s found her way under his arm.
“You’re welcome.”
*
For hopelessfangirl:
He watches her turning circles on the dance floor even though the band members haven’t picked up their instruments yet. The lights are shining in the Great Hall and they seem to catch the green of her dress somehow until she’s shimmering like she’s a Christmas tree herself.
He can hear the others whispering and he knows what they’re thinking, there goes loony again, what a nutter and it makes his cheeks burn red. He gets up from his seat without thinking and catches her hand mid-turn, pulling her into his arms.
Luna doesn’t startle at all, she merely smiles vaguely and tightens her grip on his hand.
“Hello Harry,” she says. “The music is lovely, don’t you think?”
He finds himself falling in step with a rhythm that isn’t there, but he can feel it reverberating deep down in his chest all the same.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs against Luna’s ear.
***
For aurilly:
“Have you met any little girls, ever?”
Sawyer looks down sheepishly at the garish pink teddy bear in his hand before chancing a hopeful glance at The Doctor for backup. The Doctor is too busy digging through a bin of discount slinkies to notice (Donna can only imagine what his plans for those are).
“Eyes back on me, Cowboy. I didn’t come all this way for you to buy the first hideous bear you see, you’re going to put some thought into this.”
“I barely know the kid, okay? Forget it, I’ll just give her a twenty,” Sawyer says stubbornly.
“Not on my watch,” Donna says, grabbing his arm and steering him toward a display of tea sets in the process. “I didn’t spend three weeks as a personal shopper for nothing.”
“Personal shopper? I thought you told me you used to be a bartender.”
Donna puts her hands on her hips and grins.
“Super-temp, remember? Now, let’s put some thought into this. What does Clem like?”
Sawyer screws his face up in a look of anguish Donna can’t help but think is completely disproportionate to the situation at hand. Lucky for him, she’s used to impossible men pulling faces.
“You’ve been in her room, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And she’s got dolls and pictures of those Backsinc boys---”
“Jonas Brothers, unless she’s a time traveler too.”
“Excuse me, I’ve been a little too busy being trapped on a damn island to keep up with the new
crappy pop music.”
“Alright, alright, calm down. What else?”
Sawyer turns around slowly, and Donna can tell he’s searching for something, anything that reminds him of Clem. After a moment, his eyes light up.
“You found something?”
Sawyer picks up a bright pink fishing rod and Donna grimaces. “Are you sure?”
“There’s a pond about mile from her house. We take walks there sometimes and last time she got
to asking me about the island, what we ate---every little damn thing. You know how rugrats are. I told about how I had to learn how to fish and she acted like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever heard. I told her on these days, I’d teach her.”
Donna loops her arm through Sawyer’s and smiles.
“That sounds lovely…but let’s pick up a Barbie, just in case, yeah?”
Sawyer rolls his eyes, but Donna is too distracted by the sight of The Doctor appearing in front of them loaded down with slinkies and yo-yos and…yes, that’s paddle ball, to comment on it.
“What’s all this then?”
The Doctor grins happily even as he has to use his chin to keep a package of silly putty from sliding to the floor.
“This store is fantastic!”
Donna shakes her head wearily.
“Completely hopeless,” Donna says. “Come on Cowboy, let’s check out before that one notices the marbles.”
“They have marbles?” The Doctor says excitedly.
Sawyer pats him on the back.
“Let’s go, Doc.”
*
For Pann_cake:
Miles is not a snuggler. Okay, so technically he’s never been in a relationship long enough to test this theory. But in general, he likes sex to be followed by a hasty retreat. That’s a little hard to do when he’s sharing a bed with the guy he’s screwing. Not that Richard’s tried to snuggle. Hell, just the thought of Richard saying the word snuggle seems ridiculous.
They fuck, and that parts is good (really good), then they slide to their separate sides, backs turned and they sleep like they’re brothers being forced to share a bed on a road trip. Even Miles has to admit that’s weird. It’s not that he wants more---except that he does, for the first time ever, he really, really does.
Richard is moving inside of Miles, their bodies’ slick with sweat, Spanish words tripping from his tongue and it’s all Miles can do not to scream. He settles for stifling a groan in his pillow as he comes. Richard immediately moves away from him and the sudden absence of contact makes Miles shiver. He rolls over until he’s staring at Richard’s back and then he thinks screw it---
Miles scoots across to Richard’s side slowly and he can feel Richard’s back tense up as he slips his arm around Richard’s waist. It takes a minute of squirming, but Miles manages to get his knees in line with Richard’s and just like that they’re spooning.
“What are you doing?” Richard asks. There’s an edge of nervousness in his voice.
“I’m not your brother,” Miles says.
“I know that.”
“And I’d like to think we’re a little bit more than fuck buddies.”
“We are,” Richard says softly.
“Alright, then. We’re going to start acting like it.”
Richard is quiet for a minute, but Miles can feel him relaxing. He’s glad one of them is.
“Miles?”
“Yeah?”
“This is nice.”
Miles snorts, and buries his face against Richard’s back.
“Yeah. I guess it is.”
*
For Valhalla37:
Charlotte pokes at the bonfire, watching the embers spark and fly towards the black sky. It reminds her of Christmas lights and fireworks and all the holidays she’s missing out on this year. Daniel sits huddled beside her, his nose inches away from his journal.
“What would you be doing if you were at home?” she asks, startling him so badly he nearly drops his journal into the fire.
“I…don’t know. My mother never really celebrated Christmas.”
“Really? Mine was a bit obsessed with it. Our boughs were always decked,” Charlotte says fondly. “She’ll be having a party tonight. She makes the best pudding.”
Charlotte can feel Daniel watching her with that steady, intent gaze of his. Sometimes she feels like he’s trying to stare straight through her to see what makes her tock inside. She tosses her stick into the fire and shrugs.
“It doesn’t matter, I suppose. There’s always next year.”
Daniel smiles sadly. “Of course.”
“Hey, maybe you could come? We can talk about the time you helped a time traveler keeps his brains from oozing out of his ear. I’m not letting you off the hook about explaining that, by the way.”
Daniel blushes, but when he looks at her his expression is so sincere it scares her a little.
“I’d love to come.”
She grins and takes his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s a date then.”
*
For crickets:
Stefan comes home to find a tree full of twinkling in his living room. That’s a strange enough occurrence, but it’s made all the stranger when he notices a familiar pair of furry boots poking out from under it. He squints at them for a moment until he remembers where he’s seen them before. Smiling, he drops to the floor and slides easily under the tree until he’s face to face with a sleeping Caroline.
Her eyes open and she grins.
“Hey,” she yawns.
“There’s a tree in my living room,” he says.
Caroline’s brow furrows seriously.
“A Christmas tree. It’s Christmas eve,” she says, and then her eyes go wide. “Oh God, you’re not Jewish, are you? Because I can totally get you a menorah.”
Stefan laughs and reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m not Jewish…I’m not anything, really. I haven’t had a tree in decades.”
Caroline stares up into the branches as she speaks and the sight of her face bathed in the glow of the lights makes Stefan feel warmer than any vampire has a right to feel.
“Well, this year you’re having a tree and presents and ham---the whole Christmas experience. Okay?”
Stefan gently turns her face back toward his and kisses her lips, smudging her shiny, pink lip-gloss in the process. She giggles and wipes the gloss from his lips with her thumb.
“That’s so not your color.”
“Thank you,” Stefan whispers.
Caroline rolls her eyes and wiggles closer to him, until she’s found her way under his arm.
“You’re welcome.”
*
For hopelessfangirl:
He watches her turning circles on the dance floor even though the band members haven’t picked up their instruments yet. The lights are shining in the Great Hall and they seem to catch the green of her dress somehow until she’s shimmering like she’s a Christmas tree herself.
He can hear the others whispering and he knows what they’re thinking, there goes loony again, what a nutter and it makes his cheeks burn red. He gets up from his seat without thinking and catches her hand mid-turn, pulling her into his arms.
Luna doesn’t startle at all, she merely smiles vaguely and tightens her grip on his hand.
“Hello Harry,” she says. “The music is lovely, don’t you think?”
He finds himself falling in step with a rhythm that isn’t there, but he can feel it reverberating deep down in his chest all the same.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs against Luna’s ear.