Mistletoe '06: Underneath

Mistletoe - or best they could do out here, brown paper cutout leaves colored green and red juniper berries color-imperfect, bundled together with twine and care - hung from each post along the boardwalk, greenery boughs draped in between. Buck had been taking shameless advantage, while the ladies of the town tarried underneath, giggled and let him.

It was dark, well into night, and the decorations weren't color or cheer brightness, merely shadows, unfamiliar shapes. He walked determinedly along the wall, no regard for the sharp wind that cut through his clothes, the shift of feather-light snow that had made an appearance come dusk and kept falling but too dry to stick, the lick of firelight in the barrels at each alleyway.

His boot clopped against the hard freeze packed ground as he stepped off, from the jail up and across, stride sped as he neared the saloon. Laughter tickled his ears and he grinned; he gained the boardwalk, body shivered with anticipation and hands spread, ready.

He was met, tugged and smoothed and fit to a perfect embrace. His laughter, now, husky low and warm, then they kissed, there in the dark slant shadow beyond the veil of their friends, this town, right out in the open.

Every night since the false mistletoe had appeared this is what they'd done. The Eve, the Day, the twelve after, finally Epiphany, tonight. Kisses stolen more brazen than Buck could ever think to scandalize, fragile, sweet and unhurried, hidden out here so they had no need to hide. Moments like this were fleeting; too soon all of this would pass. He was determined to hold on as long as he was allowed, savor each one they were given.

Vin buried his face in Ezra's neck, breathed deep and absorbed feel and scent, closed his eyes and they swayed under mistletoe, under moonlight. Tomorrow the wilted greenery and bedraggled paper would have fulfilled its duty and be taken down, gone, and Ezra and Vin would wake in one another's arms.

End