[shared 'verse: jazz remix] advent (16)
Dec. 16th, 2013 11:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perfectworrytitle: Advent (16)
rating: G
word count: 505
summary: house rules: you have to kiss someone if you end up under the mistletoe together! hijinks ensue. (Nikos/Tristan)
notes: the sixteenth of twenty five kisses under the mistletoe at a Christmas party Nikos is hosting
Tristan contemplated this exchange, between his wife and her creditor. He had grown accustomed to these conversations, snippets of the years he had missed with Mariel, stories they casually referenced without the need for further explanation. He often felt lost, and asked Mariel about it later; this one, he thought he understood well enough. His wife had taken his clothing and his papers and disappeared to New York City with an assumed identity - his own. Nikos must have met her then and taken her at her word, at least for a little while. Tristan only hoped this was before she owed him money.
He was contemplating this - trying to decide whether his wife, even with short hair and men's clothing could ever honestly be mistaken for a man - and not paying attention to where he was going when he stumbled beneath the mistletoe. Nikos arched one perfect eyebrow and looked upward. Tristan followed his gaze.
"Really, dear, were you paying any attention at all?" asked Mariel, although she sounded more entertained than unhappy.
"I was distracted," he admitted, making a small gesture with his free hand. Other men might find his wife unattractively masculine, but he found it quite appealing and entertained the thought of her dressed so convincingly that Nikos might mistake her identity. Mariel smiled and he kissed her cheek.
Nikos cleared his throat. "I think I'm the one you're supposed to be kissing, Mr Delacroix."
"Indeed," said Tristan; he had always found Nikos almost frustratingly good looking, although his business relationship with his wife rather precluded any intimacy between them. Still, Nikos was well dressed and better sculpted, and he smiled easily.
"Try not to sound so enthusiastic," grumbled Mariel, but she rolled her eyes. She had no real grounds to complain, after all; she slept each night between her husband and her girlfriend.
"So, how do you want to do this?" asked Nikos, smirking a little.
"You didn't give me that option," said Mariel.
"Yes, because I already knew your answer," replied Nikos. "Unless you wanted a more intimate kiss? The offer is still on the table."
Mariel held out a hand and shook her head. "I appreciate the thought, Mr Vallas, but I'll have to pass."
"See? I thought so," said Nikos. "Mr Delacroix?"
Tristan would have liked to know what it was like to really kiss Nikos Vallas, but he merely shrugged, "surprise me, it's Christmas."
His wife could have warned him that this was the wrong answer, but it was too late. Nikos swept him into unnecessarily passionate embrace and kissed him deeply. Once he got over the shock, Tristan kissed him back with enthusiasm; Nikos was clean-shaven and a good kisser. Tristan's curiosity was not sated, but he stepped back after a moment, keenly aware of his wife and her debt.
"Well, then," he said, straightening his crooked tie. "That was certainly …" he trailed off. "Surprising."
"Oh, was it?" Nikos asked, eyes twinkling knowingly. "Or was it exactly what you had imagined?"
rating: G
word count: 505
summary: house rules: you have to kiss someone if you end up under the mistletoe together! hijinks ensue. (Nikos/Tristan)
notes: the sixteenth of twenty five kisses under the mistletoe at a Christmas party Nikos is hosting
Tristan contemplated this exchange, between his wife and her creditor. He had grown accustomed to these conversations, snippets of the years he had missed with Mariel, stories they casually referenced without the need for further explanation. He often felt lost, and asked Mariel about it later; this one, he thought he understood well enough. His wife had taken his clothing and his papers and disappeared to New York City with an assumed identity - his own. Nikos must have met her then and taken her at her word, at least for a little while. Tristan only hoped this was before she owed him money.
He was contemplating this - trying to decide whether his wife, even with short hair and men's clothing could ever honestly be mistaken for a man - and not paying attention to where he was going when he stumbled beneath the mistletoe. Nikos arched one perfect eyebrow and looked upward. Tristan followed his gaze.
"Really, dear, were you paying any attention at all?" asked Mariel, although she sounded more entertained than unhappy.
"I was distracted," he admitted, making a small gesture with his free hand. Other men might find his wife unattractively masculine, but he found it quite appealing and entertained the thought of her dressed so convincingly that Nikos might mistake her identity. Mariel smiled and he kissed her cheek.
Nikos cleared his throat. "I think I'm the one you're supposed to be kissing, Mr Delacroix."
"Indeed," said Tristan; he had always found Nikos almost frustratingly good looking, although his business relationship with his wife rather precluded any intimacy between them. Still, Nikos was well dressed and better sculpted, and he smiled easily.
"Try not to sound so enthusiastic," grumbled Mariel, but she rolled her eyes. She had no real grounds to complain, after all; she slept each night between her husband and her girlfriend.
"So, how do you want to do this?" asked Nikos, smirking a little.
"You didn't give me that option," said Mariel.
"Yes, because I already knew your answer," replied Nikos. "Unless you wanted a more intimate kiss? The offer is still on the table."
Mariel held out a hand and shook her head. "I appreciate the thought, Mr Vallas, but I'll have to pass."
"See? I thought so," said Nikos. "Mr Delacroix?"
Tristan would have liked to know what it was like to really kiss Nikos Vallas, but he merely shrugged, "surprise me, it's Christmas."
His wife could have warned him that this was the wrong answer, but it was too late. Nikos swept him into unnecessarily passionate embrace and kissed him deeply. Once he got over the shock, Tristan kissed him back with enthusiasm; Nikos was clean-shaven and a good kisser. Tristan's curiosity was not sated, but he stepped back after a moment, keenly aware of his wife and her debt.
"Well, then," he said, straightening his crooked tie. "That was certainly …" he trailed off. "Surprising."
"Oh, was it?" Nikos asked, eyes twinkling knowingly. "Or was it exactly what you had imagined?"
