“It can’t be anyone elsebutyou. You’re exactly who I need.”
Luca
It’s late, and not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse. Unless you count a squirrel-cheeked-Were and his trusty late-night companion, Tsuki.
It’s been a week since Finn offered the Secret Santa suggestion box. Luca had been excited to choose his person, not that he wouldn’t have been happy to get any of his mates, really. But the idea for this gift had sprung fully-formed into his mind.
His Secret Santa recipient and he had a special bond, built on a mutual love for several things. They spoke a language that none of the others did.
No, it’s not Gideon.
That would have been too easy. Besides, he and Gideon will give each other a soulmate’s gift outside of their regular pack giving. Luca has had his surprise tucked under his bed for six months.
No, his Secret Santa person shares a liking for everyday things, like the same movies and series. They liked the same food and laughed at the same jokes. He hopes his person loves this gift as much as Luca has loved making it.
It’s taken him some time, and he’s been relegated to creating in the dead of night because he needs the oven. Yup. The box had said he had to cure the clay in the oven, and since there are more than two thousand of the little fuckers, he’d had to work long and hard (snort) to get them all made. Tonight, the last batch is baking, and while the clay is firming up, Luca can finally get to painting the second-to-last bunch. Sure, it had been over the top once he’d done the math. And then he’d had to find something to display them in. But he hadn’t had to ask for help, except from that oneclerk at the craft store. Six times. Because, well, there had been questions about the clay, the first ruined batch, the paint, the sealant, and then about the thingy that cut the labels.
Sue him. He was going to get by on semantics.
He feels the vibration of the timer in the pocket of his hoodie. He’d elected to avoid the one that makes noise so as not to wake anyone up. Pulling the last batch from the oven, he checks his checklist twice to be sure Gideon won’t find out and think he’s been naughty because Luca’s left the oven on or forgot to turn the light off.
“Oohh, look at those, Tsuki! They’re better than the last batch. He’s going to love them.” Tsuki doesn’t look up, having already lost interest after the first thousand or so. It takes a few minutes for them to cool before Luca can add them to the box of completed-but-not-yet-painted ones.
It’s already 2:20 AM and later than he’d like, but the pack had enjoyed a movie night and then made late-night snacks before finally trickling upstairs to the nest.
There’s a noise on the stairs that has Tsuki perking up, and it gets Luca’s heart pounding. His elbow knocks the box with the finished ones over and, thankfully, only a few trickle out onto the floor. A few roll under the fridge and a few more in opposite directions, but it’s keeping them a secret that matters most. He scrambles to sweep them back into the box before his pine-scented nighttime visitor spots them.
Yikes, it’s the most eagle-eyed of Santa’s elves, too.
“Luc?” Jay asks, peeking over the edge of the island just as Luca puts the lid on the box. “You okay?”
Luca nods while doing a scan for any that he might have missed. There are two near Tsuki’s right back paw, and one beside his own foot. Sighing at her nap being interrupted, she rolls to her feet so she can sit beside Luca, helpfully putting her doggy butt right on top. Luca does the same with his bare foot as he stands up.
“Whatcha doing down here on this most wintery of silent nights?” He looks at the baking sheet and the tiny stack of model paints Mindy, the clerk, had told him were the best and matched his photos perfectly. Hefelt bad because the photos had been unsolicited, but after he’d apologized, she’d just nodded and told him how lucky he was.
Didn’t he know it.
“You’re not supposed to ask questions. Shoo.” Luca packs up the two boxes and slides the paint into his bag, where they were out of sight and hopefully out of mind. “What areyoudoing up?”
“Have a song in my head. Couldn’t get it out.” Jay shrugs and grabs a glass of water. “Figured I’d try to finish it.”
Luca knows for a fact Jay has done his gift. He’d bragged about being the first one done, the day after they’d chosen their names. So the song that’s bugging him isn’t a gift for a mate, just to bring joy to the world. That means it can wait.
Taking Jay’s glass, Luca places it carefully into the dishwasher. He shoots him a flirty grin, hoping the misdirection will work. “If you want, I can jingle your bells?”
Jay grins as he leans back against the counter, muscled arms pushing his pecs up. “Oh, really? This distraction wouldn’t be about what you and your accomplice are hiding?”
Luca had been trying to distract him so he could pick up the runaway gifts. He frowns, thwarted. “Fine, you pretend you didn’t see anything, and I’ll let you give me a White Christmas.”
Jay lets out a loud snort, and Tsuki abandons Luca to his fate, walking to the back door. Jay had put the doggy-door in, but they’d blocked it off when it had gotten too cold. It had been that, or Nix would have turned into Frosty the Snowman.
“Okay, you do what you have to do, and then I can deck your halls.” He chuckles at his own alpha brilliance, and if Luca wasn’t currently on a Christmas-orgasm-free-for-all pass with Gideon’s blessing, he’d have rolled his eyes, instead of making a mad scramble on his hands and knees for the runaway gifts.
Once Jay’s out of sight, Luca exhales. In the end, he finds six in the kitchen. He hopes he’s gotten them all, or there will be a lot of questions Luca does not want to answer for another seven days.
Grayson
Grayson dips his brush into the gold leaf again, so he can gather just the tiniest amount on the tip of the paintbrush. It’s a painstaking process, and one he’s been working at all week. While most of his mates had been declaring themselves ready for days, he and Leo had been notably silent on that front. Even Rowan seemed silently, secretively smug, and as anyone can attest, that does not always bode well.
