Just this morning, he had a creeping concern about it, but it was easily subverted by the overwhelming urge to cause Rowan some trouble. In an effort to kill two birds with one stone, he’d approached Jay about checking in with Rowan to be sure whatever it was he was making wasn’t explosive, living, or going to smell when Rowan finally leaves it under the tree.
Jay had scoffed before his eyes had sprung wide. Reconsidering his doubts, he’d hightailed it up to Rowan’s room.
Grayson is only a little ashamed that he had cackled and rubbed his hands together with glee. He’ll apologize by fucking Rowan stupid later.
Seeing as his own work was far from done, he’d escaped through the sliding glass doors, past the steaming hot tub with Tsuki hot on his heels. She’d stopped here and there, sniffing and growling at the tiny wet paw prints the squirrels had left on the patio. The door to the Art House always opened with a creak, and no matter how many times he’s oiled it, it always heralds any entry and departure when the weather gets cold. The beautiful building’s foundation had been laid in the winter, and Grayson liked to think it was a small voice of celebration for its birth.
With that thought in mind, Grayson had turned on the fairy lights andmoved toward the sheet-covered tables he’d set out two weeks ago. He’d know right away what he wanted—no,neededto make. He’d had a bit of experience in the craft from a class he’d taken years ago, and while it had been fun, Grayson had quickly realized it was incredibly time-consuming. Time he’d much rather use for painting.
As he’d held the small red box in his hand, he’d known whose name it would be before he even unfolded it. And what he needed to make. Because the night before, he had a dream where he’d been bent over his task, pressing, and gilding something just like this.
By his calculation, he’d had just enough time to finish. There were always distractions, especially given that they had the usual Christmas festivities with people they loved. And once this weekend had come and gone, they were heading to Mexico for some fun in the sun.
It’s just past midnight when Grayson lays down the last of the gold. He’s taken to working by candlelight for this part, loving how the light catches the thin metal and how it evokes a strange nostalgia. He cracks his back and accidentally nudges Tsuki with his toe.
She’s lying under the workbench on yet another dog bed that will soon be too small. She gives him a little growl of acknowledgment before crawling out and pointing her nose toward the door.
Grayson places his gift to dry and scans the room to be sure none of the telltale items are on display to give the gift away sooner than he’d like. With her tail wagging at a fast clip, he knows it’s going to be Gideon before the door squeaks. “Gideon.”
There are snowflakes in his handsome mate’s hair when he pokes his head in, eyes closed. “Tell me when it’s safe and I can come in.”
“All good. You can open your eyes.”
Gideon is dressed for the outdoors, with the collar of his borrowed flannel shirt peeking up around the collar of his winter coat. He’s got Grayson’s coat and winter boots in his hands, and a bag under his arm.
“Am I going somewhere? Wait…it’s snowing?” he asks, padding closer so he can brush the melting snow from Gideon’s unbelievably long eyelashes. The ones on his cheeks melt even faster on his blushing pink cheeks.
“Like a Christmas miracle. You should take a break and walk with me. Head into the neighborhood? It’s a full moon, and we can look at the neighbors’ light monstrosities. Poke some fun,” he says. “Luca said the Were-Prime has some that are synced to music. I’m embarrassed for him.”
Gideon and Pedro Lobo-Reyes didn’t see eye to eye on anything. Grayson figured the least he could do was give his mate the gift of laughing at that ridiculous light show—especially if the big man happened to catch a glimpse of them on his security feed.
When Grayson slips a finger along Gideon’s ear, it’s burning hot. He’s adorably shy about requesting to see the lights, but Grayson lets it slide without teasing, because he’s enamored.Sue him.“Didn’t you just get home? And now you want to go out again?”
A guilty look passes over Gideon’s face before he hardens his jaw, ready to defend his late night.
Grayson cuts him off before he can get started, grabbing his coat and slipping into his boots. “Come on, I want to see the pretty lights.”Reflecting in your eyesis what he thinks, but he keepsthatto himself, too. The bag does indeed have hats and gloves inside.
He puts the pale blue one on Gideon’s head before handing him his matching gloves. He loops the matching scarf around Gideon’s neck, using the ends to first pull him in for a soft kiss. “Thank you for asking me to go with you.”
Gideon leans into him, gloved hands inside Grayson’s still-open coat. “Are you sure you want to go? It’s cold out there. We could fuck instead.” Gideon looks meaningfully at the bed in front of the cold fireplace.
“Decisions, decisions. But let’s walk first, and then we can have a hot shower.”
Sighing and put-upon like this wasn’t his idea in the first place, he nods toward the candles on the workbench. “Better blow those out, or all your hard work will go up in flames.”
They close the door to the Art House and drop Tsuki off so she can go find her next preferred Were-shaped heater, and tromp down the driveway and through the gate.
Grayson turns back so he can see the light display he and Jay had designed. It’s mostly clear lights with a silvery white glow, but shining on the door are eight colored spotlights in red, yellow, pink, magenta, purple, turquoise, blue, and green. Nix and Luca had brought them home yesterday after an outing with Artem, insisting that they could put them up themselves, proud of the decision to make Christmas a gay-old-time.
Grayson had poked fun at Jay as he’d lurked in the shadows of the garage. Why the alpha hadn’t just plopped his ass on the lawn like Rowan and Tsuki, he’ll never know. It’s not like they didn’t know he was lurking. Or that any of them were—Leo and Gideon from the upstairs windows, and Finn from the library window. There is no doubt that they’ve collectively lost their minds.
Turns out the kaleidoscope of spotlights was just what the house needed. Not overly festive like the ostentatious displays that are visible through the gates of neighboring estates, but perfect for them.
He pulls his coat closed when the wind picks up, buttoning two of the five buttons to keep it from flapping behind him, before searching out Gideon’s hand and sliding his glove off.
“Ow, hey, that’s fucking cold.”
“Shush,” Grayson says quietly, before pulling his own off and slipping their now-gloveless hands into his coat pocket. Gideon’s hand is smaller than his own. He loves how his smaller fingers mesh with his and how their palms fit perfectly. He’s met with no resistance, just a softly formed “o” on Gideon’s red mouth.
