Walker Advent calendar: Flap #3

Rate: PG-13
Disclaimer: Just borrowing.
Summary: A Christmas tale.
Spoilers: None.
Word count: 440

Kevin wakes up with the biggest grin, not even noticing that his arm is asleep. Scotty sleeps peacefully on it, his arms wrapped around Kevin’s neck, breathing on his chest.

 

Kevin looks at the time on the digital clock. Not even midnight yet. They both fell asleep after their love-making, after Kevin, quite embarrassed, had explained that it wasn’t he that earned a nice treatment after Sarah’s deed. Scotty had laughed and pulled him down on the bed to kiss him.

 

“This was quite an okay December third, wasn’t it?” Scotty asks, newly woken-up.

“You don’t say…” Kevin smiles, pulling Scotty up to kiss him.

 

“I need a snack before going to sleep for the night,” Scotty says, sitting up in bed, pulling the blanket with him and revealing Kevin’s chest. Scotty strokes it and smiles before getting up. He pulls on his underwear on his way out of the bedroom. He smiles at Kevin before walking out of his sight.

 

He takes out the bread from the cupboard and cuts himself a piece.

“I’ll have one too,” Kevin says, sliding his arms around Scotty’s waist, kissing his shoulder. Scotty cuts another one and Kevin reluctantly lets go to take out the cheese and the butter from the fridge.

 

“By the way, your mom asked us to dinner tomorrow night,” Scotty says. Kevin isn’t even surprised that his mom calls Scotty about such a matter, rather than himself. Scotty is way to nice to ask her to go away and Kevin would easily do so to spend another night along with Scotty.

 

“Something special?”

“No, she’s making pasta,” Scotty butters the pieces of bread and hands one to Kevin. “So no revelations,” Scotty grins. Kevin answers with an apologetic grin. Somehow it should feel more strange to have family gathering where you measure the amount of drama that will unfold based on what dish your mother cooks.

 

Scotty puts his sandwich in his mouth and takes the butter and the cheese to put back in the fridge. He looks at the clock over the door.

“Almost midnight. It’s December fourth in just a couple of minutes,” he determines.

 

“That’s correct,” Kevin says, glancing at the clock. “I think that’s our cue to go back to bed. I want to start the new day close to you,” he lowers his voice for the last part of the sentence, then takes Scotty’s hand to lead him back to the bedroom.

 

When the clock makes a little noise to let it be known that a new day has come, the two of them are already sound asleep, bodies entangled with each other.


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