Christmas Eve:

"So, what do you want for Christmas this year?" Blair sat on the couch stringing a popcorn and cranberry garland for their small tree.

"What? You mean you haven't gone shopping yet?" Jim looked up from reading the sports page to eye the young grad student with a glint of humor.

"Are you kidding? On my budget, I practically have to wait for the after-Christmas sales to be able to afford anything," he said with a laugh. "There. All finished." He tied off the last of the garland string and draped it artfully around the branches.

"Looking good there, Chief," Jim commented. He gave an appreciative glance at the old-fashioned tree, hung with handmade ornaments and strung with edible garland. Small lights, shaped like miniature candles, were clipped to the branches, giving the evergreen a soft, golden glow.

"Thanks. When you're working on a shoestring, you learn to make do."

Jim set his paper down and turned toward his friend. "You know, Blair, we don't have to exchange gifts this year. I haven't been out shopping yet, either, and I know things have been particularly tight for you this semester."

"Really?" A look of relief flitted across the young face, followed quickly by fleeting disappointment.

"Yeah, sure. There's nothing I want this year, anyway. I've got everything I need." Except you, his mind added.

"Well, if you think so. . . ." Blair hesitated. "It just doesn't seem quite right, somehow."

"I'm sure. Don't worry about it." Jim folded his paper and placed it on the coffee table. "How about a little eggnog, and we'll see what's on TV?"

"Sounds good," Blair agreed, wrapping an afghan around his shoulders to keep warm.

"You cold? I could start a fire," Jim suggested, returning with the eggnog, and handing one glass to Blair. The younger man just nodded, sipping at his drink. Jim tossed an extra log in the fireplace and lit the kindling, closing the door once a nice, crackling flame had taken hold.

"That's better," Blair purred contentedly.

The pair settled down to watch television until neither could keep their eyes open any longer.

"I'm heading to bed, man," Blair murmured sleepily. "See you in the morning."

"'Night, Chief. Merry Christmas." Jim checked the fire, deciding to let it die out on its own, and headed upstairs to bed.


Christmas morning:

Jim woke slowly to the soft sound of carols playing on the stereo. The loft was unusually warm for so early in the morning. Rising, he headed downstairs, his curiosity piqued. His hearing picked up the slightly elevated heartbeat of his roommate.

Looking toward the fireplace, he saw the blaze crackling brightly. His sentinel vision quickly adjusted to the dim lighting, with only the fireplace and Christmas tree lights to illuminate the room.

Blair emerged from where he'd been standing in the shadows, to stand in front of the fireplace, afghan wrapped warmly around him. "Good morning," he greeted his friend.

Jim stood mutely, staring at the one bare arm holding the blanket closed, and the bare feet on the hardwood floor. Smiling shyly, Blair prompted, "Well, aren't you going to open your present?"

Slowly, as if in a dream, Jim stepped forward and reached for the edges of the afghan, pulling the blanket open and letting it drop to pool around bare ankles. Before him stood the object of many a lonely night's fantasy: Blair, naked and erect, trembling with arousal and need, his arms held open and inviting.

"Merry Christmas, Jim."

Disclaimer: Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel and its characters. This piece of fan fiction was written solely for the love of the characters and to share freely with other fans. No profit is being made from the posting of this story.

Notes: This story also appears in the My Mongoose ezine The Many Holiday Greetings of The Sentinel.

Acknowledgments: As always, many thanks to all who beta for me.

A special thanks to Patt for the beautiful art.

I'd also like to add my thanks to Lisa for the HTMLing of the story, which I have borrowed for my website. Her hard work on the My Mongoose ezines makes them the wonderful things that they are.

RETURN to my fiction page.