Under The Mistletoe

by Tamari Erin (玉里えりん)

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/9225.html)

Bobby stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and adjusted the headband another time. try as he might, he just wasn’t able to get the mistletoe to hang straight. When it wasn’t listing to the left or to the right, it drooped down in front of his face, which kind of defeated the purpose.

He’d borrowed the headband from his room-mate’s girlfriend (“I hope you don’t expect this back, J, I will do horrible, horrible things to it.” “It’s okay; I never liked that one anyway.”), and he’d bought the mistletoe — plastic — at one of the dollar stores in town. A coat hanger stolen from the basement laundry room twisted into a hook shape held the mistletoe so that it hung about a foot up and away from his face. The other end of the hanger, he’d stabbed into the hairband, in the vain hope that it would be enough to keep it straight.

He grabbed hold of the hanger and forced it deeper into the headband–

And shrieked like a girl when the sharp point went straight through the headband and stabbed his scalp. Wildly, he swatted it all off his head and it clattered on the floor. He clamped his hands over his head and moaned. Eyes tightly shut, he waited for the pain to pass.

He gave the mistletoe the finger before he leaned in closer to the mirror to examine the damage. There– he could just see a bright red spot buried in his short brown hair. His finger came back bloody when he touched it, but it wasn’t as bad as he had expected. Bobby sighed in relief.

“You’re still an idiot,” he told his reflection.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he picked up the mistletoe-hanger again and turned it over in his hands as he thought. There had to be a better way of doing this, something more secure that didn’t involve him getting anymore head injuries.

He pulled the hanger from the headband and set them both on the floor and quickly retrieved the pliers from the other room. With a few sharp twists of the pliers, he’d reshaped the base of the metal hanger and began to wrap it ’round the headband. He tucked the sharp point at the top of the headband, and set down the pliers to examine his work.

The mistletoe might hang lower than it had before, but now it certainly looked secure enough to not fall off his head while he kissed someone.

Bobby set it on his head and looked up. From this angle, he could just see himself in the mirror. The mistletoe looked perfect.

He gave himself a thumb’s-up.

He cornered his first victim in the stairwell between the dorm’s second and third floor.

“Hey! Pete!”

Peter looked up from his book, his expression shifting from surprise to shock. “Bob… What is that thing on your head?”

Bobby grinned widely. “Mistletoe. You know. You hang it on door frames, and if two people stand under it at the same time, they have to kiss. I figured I’d make ity easier for myself and bring the mistletoe to the people I wanted to kiss.”

“Like me?”

Bobby ducked his head, nodded, and tried not to blush.

Peter laughed. “We never did anything like this — the mistletoe — when I was young. But I don’t think my parents liked holidays very much.”

“Heh. Yeah.” Bobby took a step forward and slid his hands up Peter’s well-muscled arms. “Let’s see if we can’t make up for it…”

Peter cupped his face in his hands and kissed him softly, sweet and closed-mouth.

After a long moment, Bobby broke the kiss. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Peter nodded. “It’s a nice tradition.” He touched Bobby’s mistletoe hanger. “I might make myself one of these next year.”

Bobby laughed.

Peter adjusted the straps of his knapsack. “So who else is on your list?”

“Everyone. Everyone in the dorm, that is.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I hope it will be!”

Peter gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he headed down the stairs. “Good luck!”


James looked up from his paper, a familair scowl crossing his face. Stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, he rose to his feet before Bobby had even had a chance to continue his speech.

Bobby took a step back, worried. “I, er, um…”

James caught Bobby’s face in his hands and gave him a brief kiss. He tasted like the smoke of the cigarettes he wasn’t supposed to smoke (no one dared tell him it was against the dorm rules). though Bobby wanted to take the kiss further, James made no move to part his lips, and Bobby respected that.

When tthey finally parted, Bobby was out of breath. “Ah…” he began stupidly.

James jerked a thumb at the headband. “Mistletoe.”

“… Yeah.” He was still somewhat in shock — he’d never expected that from James. A kiss, yes, but not one on the lips.

James went back to his paper. “Have fun with that, kid.”

“I– I think I will. Thanks.”

“No prob.”

Bobby pulled his list out of his pocked and ticked off another name. He grinned. he was halfway down the list, and if he kept at this pace, he’d have kissed everyone in Claremount Hall well before tonight’s Christmas party came to a close.

He tapped his pen on the next name. Nate. He was pretty, Bobby was looking forward to kissing him–


Bobby jumped and spun around. Hell. Oh, hell.

“Cam? Hey.” He pushed his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. There was a reason Cameron was at the bottom of his list. He was, truly, the last person Bobby wanted to kiss, today or any other day.

Cameron was leaning non-chalantly against a doorjamb, disintrest on his long, thin face. Bobby repressed a shudder. He hated the way Cam always seemed to be watching everyone, hoarding information about them on the oft chance that it might prove useful someday.

Bobby tried to avoid him as much as possible, which could get a bit hard, as they were both in the Business program — Cam in pre-law and Bobby in accounting.

“Nice.” He jerked his chin at Bobby’s mistletoe.


“There wasn’t enough mistletoe downstairs for you?” There was an edge of scorn in his voice.

Bobby laughed hollowly. “That’s… That’s not what it’s for. I heard about someone in one of the other residences doing this, it sounded cool and I wanted to give it a try.”

Cameron raised a narrow eyebrow.

“What I’m trying to do,” Bobby finished, “is, well, try to kiss every one in our dorm.”


Bobby shrugged. “Why not? I wanted to do something different for the Christmas party than standing around with a weak drink in my hand and making boring small talk–”

“And then vomiting all over the bathroom floor?”

He grit his teeth. “That wasn’t me. Jeez. You never let up, do you?”

Cameron rolled his eyes and pushed himself upright. “Goodnight, Robert. Have fun with your kiss-a-thon.”

Bobby bit his lip as he watched Cam walk away. He might not have this chance again tonight. Cameron was notorious for avoiding House parties.

“Cameron!” Bobby called out, knowing that this might prove to be difficult.

Cam stopped and looked over his shoulder. “What?”

He waved his list. “You’re on here, too, you know. You wouldn’t, um, mind, you know… ”

A thin smile curled his lips. Cameron turned around and walked towards Bobby. He stopped only inches away, leaned in, bringing his mouth close to Bobby’s ear. When Cameron spoke, Bobby could feel his hot breath on his neck.

“You want me to kiss you, don’t you?” His voice was a whisper.

Bobby shivered. “Yes. Please.”

Cameron brought his hands to Bobby’s shoulder. “Mmmm… ” His lips skimmed the line of Bobby’s jaw.

Somehow, Bobby found words. “On the mouth. Please.”

Cameron stepped back and studied Bobby’s face, head cocked to the side. “Well, if I kiss you, what shall I receive in return?”

“I–” What? “I… I don’t know. No one else asked for anything.”

“I’m surprised. A kiss, Bobby, a kiss is very important.” He touched Bobby’s cheek. “When done properly, between the right people, it can be more intimate than even sex.”

“I… ” Bobby licked his lips. “What do you want for it, then?”

Cameron smiled as widely as the Cheshire cat. He shoved Bobby firmly against the nearest wall. “No one comes up here, but keep an eye out just in case, will you?”

“I, er, what?”

Cameron dropped to his knees and smirked up at Bobby. “I’d rather not have anyone walk in on this.”

“What are you doing?” Bobby tried to move away, but Cameron grabbed him firmly by the belt.

“You want a kiss. This is what I want in exchange for it. Deal?”

Bobby swallowed loudly, and reached a hand down to touch Cameron’s hair, prematurely grey and very soft. “Will– will it hurt?”

Cameron laughed softly and pressed back against Bobby’s embrace. “It’s almost charming how naive you are. No, rest assured, it will not hurt.”

And Bobby choked back a shriek when Cameron started to unbuckle his belt. He held tight to Cameron’s hair and closed his eyes.

He heard the metal scrape of his fly being opened and felt his jeans drop down around his ankles. “Oh my God.”

Cameron’s hand was cold pressed up to his budding erection. “You poor, deprived boy.” And then his undershorts joined his jeans.

Those long fingers stroked the length of his cock, tracing curlicues around the tip and snaking back down. Cameron gave his balls a gentle squeeze and–

Bobby gasped, opened his eyes and looked down. Cameron had taken the tip of his penis in his mouth and — oh god it felt so good — and was sucking it like a lollypop, swirling his tongue around it as he had done with his fingers. Bobby felt weak-kneed, gripped the wall for support, but he could not take his eyes off Cameron as his warm mouth worked Bobby’s cock.

It didn’t take long before Bobby came, sharp and hot, in Cameron’s mouth.

Cameron pulled away, wiping at his mouth, a satisfied smile on his face. He stood and cupped Bobby’s face in his hand. Bobby shivered at the touch. He was still too spent to speak.

“I believe I owe you something for that,” Cameron said, and kissed him. Bobby leaned into the kiss, and emboldened by Cameron’s actions, parted his lips and slid his tongue into the other’s mouth.

Cameron broke away quickly, before Bobby had a chance to do more than touch his teeth. “Ah! Bit forward, aren’t you?” He let go of Bobby and walked away with a brief wave.

“You’re welcome,” Bobby muttered to his retreating back.

With a heavy thud, Bobby slid down to the floor. He cupped a hand over his cock, and touched his lips with a hesitant finger. He could still taste Cameron in his mouth, and the taste of himself mingled in with that.

In the empty fourth floor hallway, Bobby smiled to himself. If he were lucky, the rest of the kisses on his list would be as difficult as this had been.

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