All Wrapped Up

"Don't you have elves to do this kind of stuff for you?" Daniel asked as he hung his coat.

I didn't bother looking up. "Yes, Daniel I do, but they're all on strike right now."

"Oh. I see. Labor troubles, huh?"

This time I did look up, and it was a pretty sight—Daniel in a thick, heavy gray sweater, his cheeks red from the cold. He was peering over the top of his fogged up glasses at the table, eyeing the cheerily wrapped packages scattered among ribbons and rolls of gift-wrap. As he reached for a stack of packages, I told him "Don't even bother, none of those are for you."

"No?" He turned, looking into the living room at the tree.

"They're not there, either," I said, hunting for the scotch tape, which I had in my hand a goddamn second ago. "They're hidden, and will stay that way, until Christmas Eve."

"Fine," he said, nonchalantly. "I can wait." As if he didn't instantly turn into a little kid at the sight of a present. Christmas with Daniel is a pretty good time. It's ridiculously easy to buy gifts for him. All year long he talks about stuff that he wants to get, but either forgets or never gets around to buying any of it for himself. A couple of books, CDs and DVDs and he's tickled to death, and I get big time brownie points for the whole year.

He watched me, arms folded against his chest, as I finally located the tape. "You know, they have people in department stores that will do that kind of thing for you when you buy the present."

"Daniel, that's just not right. It ends up looking too perfect," I said. "Not genuine enough." I wrestled the gift-wrap into submission over the box, folded over the ends and taped them down flat. The paper had big fat snowmen dressed in hats and scarves, with eerie, dark eyes and black, blobby mouths. I wasn't so sure they weren't System Lords. The damn paper didn't lay didn't lay smooth over the box, and the fat snowmen didn't match up on the underside, either. I've never been any good at this kind of thing, and a couple of helpful little elves would have been appreciated. "You can help, you know, instead of just standing there." I glanced around the table, searching in vain for the scissors I had used a moment ago.

"You're right Jack, I could," he said, but his voice was speculative. He picked up the white ribbon, unraveling the spool. It would be perfect for covering up the lumps and wrinkles, I decided.

"Daniel, give me that." I reached for it, but he pulled it out of my reach, unwinding at least three feet of it before the empty spool fell to the floor.

He was so not one of Santa's elves.

But then he came up next to me with the ribbon in hands, and I forgave him for being his usual pain-in-the ass self. "Thank you. Just go underneath and wrap it around," I told him. I held out the package for him but he went right past it, and began wrapping the ribbon around my wrist.

Huh.

"Daniel?" A few more turns around my wrist and the package fell from my hand, landing on the table with a thud. "That's, ah, not what I meant."

He gave me a small, close-mouthed smile and threaded one end the ribbon under my other hand, pulling it over and around that wrist, too. When he pulled both ends my hands were drawn together. He wrapped it around both wrists a few times and finished it up with a nice big bow on top.

"Okay, that's good, too," I said, my breath coming a little quicker as I stared down at my tightly bound wrists.

He still didn't say anything—just hooked a finger under the layers of ribbon and pulled until I rose up out of my chair. "So, I gather his majesty needs servicing?" I asked as he dragged me out of the kitchen. He could be downright imperious at times. "I was busy, you know. I have things to do. General-type things. I'm a very important man now, in case you've forgotten. I can't be dragged off into the bedroom every time you get a hard-on."

He turned and blinked at me. "Right, Jack," he said, looking at my crotch, noting my none-to-subtle interest in the proceedings.

All right, so I really didn't mind at all.

We reached the bedroom and I was on my back before I knew it, stretched out on the bed, my arms up over my head. I complained just for the sake of complaining, pulling my arms down but he straddled my chest and drew them up again, untying the bow and then retying it around the railing of the headboard. As he worked, his he leaned over my face, his shirt billowing out and I smelled a combination of musty old sweater and warm sweaty Daniel. I couldn't help but nuzzle the soft cable knit, feeling the hard stomach underneath, it was all weirdly erotic and as the ribbon tightened again around my wrists again I felt it right down in my dick and oh god I was ready.

"Tell me you don't like me dragging you off into your bedroom," Daniel demanded as he shuffled back down until he was sitting on my crotch. He began unbuttoning my flannel shirt.

"It sucks. Worst part of my day." I stretched and tugged my arms. The knots didn't give, not even a little. Very impressive.

Daniel clucked at me. "You poor thing, you." Daniel finished with the shirt, and eyed the tee-shirt underneath critically.

"Daniel." I could tell what he was about to do.

Ignoring me, he grabbed the tee-shirt in both fists and pulled, hard. I heard fabric tearing as the son-of-a-bitch ruined another perfectly good tee-shirt. I tried to tell him that but his mouth was on my chest, sucking a nipple and all that came out was a loud gasp. He chuckled, nipping at my throat as he pushed both shirts up and off my shoulders.

"Yeah, laugh it up," I told him.

"Yeah, and—?" Daniel stared down at me. He'd lost his glasses somewhere along the way, nothing between me and those big eyes, his expression soft but still, there was that little smile that meant he had plans for me and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

"And..you're buying me a new shirt," I finished. Lamely. Damn, I loved him.

"Maybe. Or maybe I'll tear up all your clothes so you'll have to be naked all the time."

Part of me still couldn't quite get over the fact that he would want to see me naked even part of the time. "Okay," I said. He nudged my nose with his, then licked my lips. I tried to kiss him but he pulled back and suddenly I needed to kiss him, I had to kiss him, because he wanted me naked all the time, and how sweet was that? "Daniel," I complained, "kiss me, damn it."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not done unwrapping yet," he said, sliding down my body.

He rubbed his palms over my chest, warm hands kneading my muscles and it felt good, soothing, like being petted. Even better was when he tweaked and pulled at my nipples, watching me with that little grin as I groaned and tried to tug my hands free. He knew all of my buttons, knew how to tease me just right. I moaned again and bucked my hips, loving every minute of it, pressing my cock against his ass, the seam on my pants digging into the length of it and even that felt good. When he scratched his way down my chest with his fingernails I moaned his name, because it hurt a little, and I wanted him to do it again, even harder. I just wanted him to tear me apart, in a way I couldn't explain, to him, not even to myself. I just wanted him to do everything and anything to me.

He didn't scratch me again though, just scooted down further, unfastening my pants and pulling them down, making an appreciative sound as my cock sprung free. Then I was naked, completely naked before him as he sat between my legs, pulling them up, staring down at my cock as he stroked my thighs. Fingers dancing lightly on my skin, trailing fire right up close to my balls before moving back down again and I needed him to touch me, damn it.

"Daniel, what the hell are you—will you please just—"

"No, Jack, really, it's cool—your balls crinkle up every time I get close." He had that tone of voice he uses when he finds some fascinating artifact, and I couldn't decide whether that bugged me or not.

"They'll do more interesting things if you touch them, really they will," I pointed out. I tried tugging my hands free, figuring he really couldn't have tied them that well, but nope, he did. "Maybe you should get naked, too" I suggested, poking him with a toe.

Daniel made a non-committal noise, then cupped my balls and tugged on them.

My hips jerked. "Oh jeeze."

He seemed pleased with my reaction, pleased enough to do it again before taking off his sweater, but I only got a glimpse of his broad chest because he tossed the damn thing directly over my face. Son of a bitch.

"Oh, real nice, Daniel." I shook my head but couldn't dislodge it. I heard the snick of a zipper, felt him bounce on the bed a few times. The sound of pants hitting the floor. Oh yeah, he was getting naked, and I wanted to see, because naked Daniel was good, naked Daniel was the prettiest thing in the whole damn world and he wasn't letting me see, damn him.

A warm, wet mouth on my cock and I cried out, startled but oh, shit, hot tongue, firm lips engulfing me and thank you Oma for kicking him out. Because this, this was something I never thought I could have and yet here he was, sucking my dick, as real as can be and I don't know how the hell I got so lucky.

He held my hips hard, fingers digging into me, then all that delicious pressure on my dick was gone, and instead he nuzzled my stomach, raspy chin scratching at my skin. He rubbed against me like he couldn't get enough of me, like he could eat me alive. His weight shifted again, and then the shirt was gone from my face and he was kissing me, hot, fierce kisses, his tongue diving into my mouth. His mouth was slick and demanding and he moaned, but then he wasn't kissing me any more, he was crawling forward on his knees, holding onto the headboard for balance. I knew what he wanted, even before his cock nudged against my cheek, so warm and sleek and I sucked it eagerly into my mouth. The angle was awkward, even when he leaned over me I could only suck on the head but he made all kinds of little noises and I knew he liked it. Hands on my cheek, fingers sliding into my mouth with his cock. I loved it when he fucked my face, so nasty and I could do was suck, tasting him on my tongue and I thought maybe I could come just from the feel of his cock pushing into my mouth. Then his hips jerked and it slipped out, leaving a wet trail across my cheek and I wanted his come all over me.

"Shit, Daniel," I groaned. "Please—" even though I didn't know exactly what I was begging for. I wanted everything.

"Wait," he said. "I want—hold on—"

He turned and bent over, giving me a stunning view of his ass as he dug energetically through the bedside table drawer. Taunting me with it, because I couldn't touch it, I couldn't reach out and lick it, hell, I couldn't even bite it and I really wanted to.

I was so biting it when this was all over.

He sat up, leaning back on his heels, reaching behind and damn, I could see his fingers were shiny and wet—he was lubing up his ass, one finger long disappearing inside of his body, then a second one. His hand slipped away, leaving a glistening streak of lube across one cheek as he went back for more, and then did it again with a content little sigh. All I could do was stare, speechless. He could get so nasty and dirty, and I had never known it, for so many years. He always had that distracted, academic thing going on, like sex was the last thing on his mind. And me, idiot that I was in so many ways, had bought into it totally.

"If this civilian consultant thing doesn't work out, Daniel, you definitely have a career in porn," I told him.

He grinned over his shoulder at me, fingers still stuck up his ass. "How do you know I don't already?"

I would have slapped his sweet ass if I could. "You're a real smart-ass when you've got me tied up, you know that?"

He twisted around and kissed me again, and that was nice, except my cock was aching, and it knew exactly where it wanted to be. "Daniel," I muttered, squirming on the bed. "Come on, do it."

He greased my cock up with a handful of ice cold lube. "Damn it," I gasped. Then he straddled me, and I wasn't complaining anymore, because oh fuck, hot, hot and tight, he was easing himself down on my cock, taking it nice and slow, and it was so fucking good I couldn't talk anymore, I could barely breathe.

"Oh, Jack," he said, sounding surprised. "This is—this is good." His eyes glazed over and he sighed again, like my cock was the best thing in the world. He sat all the way down on my hips, his balls tickling my stomach.

I pushed up into him and he gasped, eyes closed, looking fucking estactic as he held his own cock in both hands and squeezed it, nice red, thick cock sliding through his fingers. I couldn't help myself, I kept rocking my hips, and thrusting into him as much as I could even though he was holding me down with his body. That was hot, not being able to touch him, not being able to control it—so helpless—-like I was only there for his pleasure, for him to use and couldn't help moaning because that's all I wanted to be right at that moment, his toy, his plaything. His.

"Oh, god, Jack—don't you dare come yet," Daniel gasped, slapping my hip.

The sting felt good. "Then don't hit me like that," I told him.

He opened his eyes. "Kinky, aren't you?"

"Says the guy who—oh god—who tied me to the bed and sat on my dick."

Lips curving into a smile as he sat all the way down and ground his ass against my hips, his thighs tucked tight against my ribs. I was trapped under him and that was one damn fine place to be. I wanted to see him let go before I lost my mind.

"Do it, Daniel," I told him.

And he did it, good lord, he did. He planted a hand on my chest, got up on his knees and I dug my heels into the bed and thrust up into him, over and over, while he jacked off, eyes closed, grimacing. It was electrifying, fucking Daniel was always like this, just too crazy to last. I fucked him good and hard while I could, my hips slapping against his ass, as he moaned and worked his cock. I pulled hard on my arms, ribbons digging into my wrists, grounding me, but damn it, it was too good to last, I could feel the pleasure sizzling down my spine, gathering in my groin, I wasn't going to last another minute—

Daniel's eyes flew open, his lips parted and he moaned, long and loud, hot come spurting out onto my chest and his muscles clamped down tight. Thank god. I just threw my head back and let go with a howl.

When I finally came down to earth Daniel was still crouched over me, panting, his mouth hanging open. I wasn't too clearheaded myself, my heart pounding in my chest, my cock still throbbing happily.

"Oh, Jack—oh." Daniel crawled forward, capturing my mouth with his as I tried to catch my breath, but I was perfectly happy to suffocate with those kisses. I jerked and gasped as my cock slipped out of his body, I felt shivery and over-sensitized and he just kept kissing me, open-mouthed, sucking my tongue, my lips, wet and messy. He spread out over my body, not seeming to mind the come on my chest, but hell, I was good with it.

Except for one thing.

"Daniel," I finally gasped out between kisses. "Hands?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He reached over my head, and tugged on one end of the ribbon, and the whole damn thing came free, just as easy as that. He propped himself up on his elbows and carefully unwound it from my wrists, tsking at the red indentation in my skin.

"I'll live," I told him as he kissed my wrists. I finally, finally got to wrap my arms around him, hugging his warm, sweaty body close. My shoulders ached, and my hands were feeling like pins and needles. I didn't realize I had been pulling so much, but hell, it was worth it. Beat the hell out of wrapping presents, too. Beat the hell out of just about anything else I could think of doing. "Daniel," I said, cupping his face, then sliding my fingers through his hair. He made me so damn happy. "Daniel—"

He smiled down at me, with that wide silly-assed smile that always came out after good sex. Or even after bad sex. "Yeeeees?" he asked.

I wanted to tell him how happy I was. Happy that he was alive, happy that he put up with me, happy that he made Christmas something kind of special again. "This is nice, really nice," I finished, lamely.

His smile grew even wider, little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. "Yes," he agreed. "It is, isn't it?"

You know, I think he understood.