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smokingmirrorSeries: Chalk And Charcoal
Author: Avarice
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mikhael/Tybalt
Spoilers: pre BMB
Summary: Snapshot out of a day. December 1994.
Word Count: 1101
Date First Posted: 08-02-2002
Date Revised: 22-05-2011
Beta: Tink.
Awards: -
Notes: The Santa photographer line is in there because I used to be one. :) One of the reasons these fics were so much fun to write was that I got to invent a whole lot of stuff, using a very basic framework to work from. This backstory of Mik's hadn't been explored in BMB, and I only knew it from talking to Sandra about it. With the basic ideas of what happened, it gave me a lot of flexibility to play with events. If we call C&C canon mik/ty before BMB started, it makes Tybalt missing out on seeing his parents at that juncture quite significant. This is explored in my WIP AU fic, Rewriting History.
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ
"What are you doing for Christmas?" Tybalt asked, sitting up in bed. He made sure the blankets pooled in his lap to keep his unmentionables out of the biting winter cold. The brunet lying beside him, head on hands, answered without opening his eyes.
"The usual. Throwing snowballs at elderly people. Pouring ice on sidewalks. Molesting Santa photographers..."
The redhead smacked him in the chest. "You can do that shit any day of winter."
Mikhael chuckled and snaked out a hand, pulling Tybalt closer. He opened one eye speculatively, a wry smile on his face. "I can do that any day of the year." He nuzzled Tybalt's captured wrist, flicking his tongue over the pulse point. "You took photography for a semester, right?"
Tybant grinned, running a hand down Mikhael's arm. "It would account for that interesting collection of photos in my bottom drawer. Praise heaven for self-timers."
Mik's breath tickled his skin as the brunet laughed. He hauled Tybalt atop him, the redhead's pale, hairless chest flush against his own.
"So?" Tybalt asked, having his jawline thoroughly kissed.
"So what?" Mikhael murmured, clearly busy.
"What are you doing for Christmas?"
Mik paused, gnawing on his bottom lip for a moment. "Staying here, probably. I'm... not really all that sure. Why, what are you doing?"
"My usual," Tybalt replied, pulling the blanket up to his shoulder blades, feeling the bite of cold on his naked back. "My folks are in Florida. Thought about doing the prodigal son returneth to Palm Beach thing. They'd get a kick out of it." Mikhael lowered his eyes, a slightly pained look on his face as Tybalt continued. "But that all depends."
"On what?" Mik queried.
"On what you're doing."
Tybalt studied the brunet's face carefully, taking note of the lines that instantly appeared around Mikhael's tense mouth, and the clenching and unclenching of fists in the bedcovers.
"Well, I really don't think the people who threw me out almost four years ago are aching to spend the holiday season with me," he said somewhat caustically.
Red brows drew together in a frown. He brushed the back of his knuckles gently over slightly defined cheekbones. "You were thrown out when you were fifteen?"
"Yep, by two outstanding examples of parenthood." Mikhael's eyes clouded with pain. "I mean, that's a good solution, isn't it? Not happy with your youngest son? His desire for unconditional love just too much? Throw him out; get rid of the problem."
Tybalt's face was stony, but his eyes betrayed anger and regret at Mikhael's sorrow. "Is it because..." the redhead trailed off, gesturing to their entwined naked bodies.
"Yeah," came the husky, emotion-filled reply.
"And your brother and sister didn't do anything?" Ty drummed his fingers on the mattress.
Mik snorted. "Are you kidding. Perish the thought of getting off-side with the Hateful Bastard and Heartless Bitch and be written out of the will..." He stopped there, unhappy with the stark bitterness in his voice. When he was sure he could continue, Mikhael spoke again, wrapping his fingers around long tendrils of copper hair compulsively.
"They never gave a rat's ass about me anyway. It was easier for them to not care and have a regular life, than ex-communicating themselves by having anything to do with me.
"I haven't seen them since," Mikhael finished quietly, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling. Tybalt brushed dark hair from Mikhael's brow. He knew his lover was sensitive about any line of questioning to do with his family, but couldn't have guessed at the extent of Mik's misery.
Another moment of moody silence was broken by Mikhael's voice, the epitome of feigned cheerfulness. "So, in answer to your question, I really don't know what I'm doing," he punctuated the statement with a watery smile.
Tybalt leant down and kissed his lover's temple. Mikhael's act gave a little then, hands slipping down and tightening around the narrow waist. The redhead nuzzled him, burrowing underneath the warm blankets.
"Mmm... wouldn't this be a wonderful way to wake up on Christmas morning?"
"Yeah," Mik replied wistfully, fingers trailing over the bumps of Tybalt's spine.
"You've got something to look forward to then," he grinned, placing a wet open-mouthed kiss on the side of the brunet's neck. Mikhael's eyes blinked open and he frowned.
"I... I thought you were going to your parent's place?"
"I said was thinking about it, and it depended on what you were doing. Hadn't made up my mind yet."
"But... your family-"
"-will survive without my presence. Wouldn't want to distract them from giving my cousin Dante a hard time about how much eyeliner he wears, anyway. Besides," Tybalt paused to run his tongue over the line of Mikhael's collarbone, "can you even imagine what we'll be able to get away with while everyone's off-campus?"
Mikhael pushed a heavy lock of hair away from Tybalt's face to behind his ear.
"You'd spend your vacation here with me?" the brunet couldn't mask his incredulity.
"Yup," Tybalt answered, resting his head on Mikhael's chest, listening to the steady thump of a strong heart. He paused a moment before continuing. "That is, if you want me to," Tybalt bit his bottom lip, delivering the statement in the most neutral voice he could muster.
Mikhael took hold of Tybalt's shoulders, forcing the longhaired man's head up. The brunet's expression of disbelief had melted into a large smile of happiness. "I'd love you to spend Christmas here with me,"
The redhead let his acceptance of the proposal be known by initiating a slow but infinitely powerful kiss. "Just think," Tybalt purred, "presents, mistletoe, nog, Christmas stockings..."
"What's so great about Christmas stockings?"
"You'll see once I've got them on," he grinned positively sexily, letting his hands dally over Mikhael's abdominals. Mik groaned into Tybalt's mouth as a pair of narrow hips ground into his in a rolling motion.
"I think you're going to enjoy this holiday season," Tybalt whispered, running his tongue around Mikhael's nipple.
"How many days until Christmas?" the brunet growled out.
"Twenty-two."
"Damnit. I want to fill you with Christmas cheer already."
Wry smile. "Is that what you're calling it now?"
The brunet put wild animals to shame with his snarl, hands cupping Tybalt's firm rear. "I could make it worth your while if we start celebrating early."
Tybalt reached down between their pressed bodies, running a finger along Mikhael's length, and sighed dramatically.
"Can't say I don't bend the rules for you, love. Okay, I'll oblige. After all, Christmas comes but once a year.
"I don't."
The redhead grinned ferally. "Thank god for that."
~finis
