Their First Christmas Tree

Posted: December 2003
Title: Their First Christmas Tree
Author: Dhvana
Type: RPS
Characters: Orli/Colin
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: None of this ever happened.
Author's Note: Yet another Daunting Byron Christmas episode--these guys just bring out the Christmas Spirit in me. As always, feedback would be most welcome!
Summary: The Daunting Byron lads decorate their first tree.

*****

Their First Christmas Tree

Well, technically, Orlando thought with a grin looking at the tree in front of him, it wasn't their ‘first' Christmas tree. Their first was sitting in the living room of their next door neighbor. Despite the hours spent in the cold numbing their fingers and toes as they searched for the perfect tree, once it was in the house, Colin had decided it was too crooked, so they gave it away and they looked again.

The second tree was sitting in the window across the street. It had a hole, an empty spot near the top, making it unacceptable in Colin's eyes. Orlando had told him they could just turn that part to the wall, but this resulted in such a complete and utter look of horror from his lover that tree number two found a new home and the search for tree number three began.

Tree number three was now sitting in the house two doors down. Though it was a lovely tree, it was too big, taking up half the living room. It was Orlando who put his foot down that time, insisting they find something smaller.

"But it's perfect!" Colin protested.

"For another house. For our little cottage, it's too damn big."

"We can work around it."

"By avoiding the living room for the next month?"

"Think of it as the ideal houseguest--doesn't eat all the food, doesn't make a lot of noise, just needs a little water."

"And a chainsaw. No, Colin. There's not even any room for the angel."

The Irishman's forehead creased in puzzlement. "What angel?"

Orlando looked at him as if he'd just asked ‘what tree?'. "The angel that goes on top, of course."

Colin looked up at the top of the tree to see it was not just brushing the ceiling, but was smashed against it. "Okay. Let's go get another one."

By the time tree number four was introduced into the house, Orlando was exhausted and more than just a little annoyed. His hands were red and scratched from handling needles and the sap making his skin itch. His nose was running, his ears hurt from the biting wind, and if this tree didn't meet with Colin's approval, he would take a log from the fireplace, stick an ornament on it, and shove it up the Irishman's ass.

All the cold, the irritation, the scratchiness of his skin, all of this vanished as he and Colin stood back to view their tree.

"We found it," he said, his voice filled with awe, and Colin nodded.

"We did. It's perfect," he agreed, sliding an arm around Orlando's waist and kissing his temple.

"And it only took four tries to find it. So much for a nice, simple Christmas."

"There's nothing simple about Christmas," Colin chuckled. "It's all misery and commotion and hassle, and if you get lucky, a few special moments thrown in here and there to last a lifetime."

"You do know this is one of those moments," Orlando said, glancing at him, and Colin grinned.

"That it is. Now, all we need to do is decorate."

Orlando looked down at the three bowls sitting in front of him, one filled with cranberries, two with popcorn, and sighed. "So much for ‘we'," he grumbled, adding another cranberry to the string.

Colin had run off almost immediately to buy lights and ornaments and tinsel and, of course, the angel.

Orlando remained behind, stringing up the traditional strands of cranberry and popcorn. He swore as the needle skewered a piece of popcorn and jabbed his finger. Again. He couldn't tell anymore if that was cranberry juice staining his skin, or blood.

Who the hell thought up this insane tradition anyway? Stringing up popcorn and cranberries--were they gluttons for punishment? Truly that starved for entertainment? Sure, it looked pretty, but he'd been at it for thirty minutes and only had enough string to make one circle around the tree. One circle near the top. He needed more hands.

Where the fuck was Colin? He should have been back by now. They didn't need much--they'd each brought a couple of favorite ornaments from home, and had agreed to just get a couple boxes of glass balls for now. That way, they'd be able to fill the tree up with ornaments they collected over the years.

Jumping as the needle pierced through another piece of popcorn to his skin, he cursed and threw down the crumbled corn in disgust. He'd hoped the strings would help fill up the empty space left by their lack of ornaments, but he was quickly considering changing his mind. Empty space was good. Empty space was his friend. He liked empty—

Orlando's train of thought jumped the rail and his jaw dropped as the front door was flung open. Colin staggered inside, his arms filled with bags, each one bursting with decorations.

"Colin James Bloom, what the hell is all that?"

"They're decorations for the tree. What the fuck does it look like?"

His eyes narrowed. "You do remember we got rid of the huge tree, don't you?"

"I remember. This is for our tree."

"That's enough for an entire fucking forest."

"Geez, what got into you?" Colin asked, dumping the bags on the floor. "Wait, hold that thought--I've got to get the rest."

"THE REST?!"

The headache Orlando thought he'd successfully been avoiding since their arrival in Dublin began a subtle throbbing at his temples.

The rest.

Orlando took a deep breath and began resolutely stringing popcorn and cranberries again. To be honest, there was nothing wrong with Colin going a little overboard. After all, it was their first Christmas in the cottage, and he loved Colin for being so excited about it, especially since in three weeks both their families would be crowding into their home to enjoy Christmas dinner. While Orlando was looking forward to that, his eyes were set on the week after when Christmas would be over and they'd finally be able to relax. He was especially looking forward to New Year's Eve, when they'd be in New Zealand to celebrate the New Year with all their friends.

It was the first year without a Lord of the Rings premiere, and Peter decided to celebrate by having a party for everyone. By some small miracle, schedules had been rearranged so that all the cast and crew, all his friends would be there. New Year's Eve was definitely looking to be the best day of the entire holiday season.

Not that he didn't like Christmas, he loved it, but it was definitely a different story being on the hosting side of the holiday as opposed to simply being a guest. There was so much work and planning to do, and despite all of Rita's offers, they assured Colin's mother that they could handle it.

Yeah, right.

Orlando didn't know how she did it, how she managed to feed the flock of Farrells every time the family decided to get together--which was a lot more often now that Colin and Orlando came to visit. He and Colin, they could barely manage to make pasta. True, they'd gotten a little better about cooking since they made a point of returning to the cottage whenever they could, but they were definitely not good enough to feed dozens of people.

"Maybe we should call a caterer," he muttered, going over all the dishes they'd need to prepare and wondering how they were going to fit both the turkey and ham into their tiny oven. Not to mention all the baking they'd need to do.

They.

More like ‘he'.

If Orlando was incompetent in the kitchen, Colin was a complete disaster.

How had two grown men managed to go through their entire adult lives without being able to cook anything more difficult than macaroni and cheese?

Oh, yeah. Actors. Actors didn't need to cook. All the food was catered or paid for or eaten in restaurants, none of prepared by their own two hands.

Maybe Christmas dinner was too big a step, too soon. Maybe they should have started with something smaller, like having the immediate family over for Sunday dinner. Brunch. Breakfast. Tea. Tea would have been a good place to start.

Three trips later, the door opened and Orlando looked up with a goran to see yet another armful of bags entering the cottage. "Colin, is there a single decoration left in all of Ireland?"

"Well, sure," he said, collapsing into his brown chair. "Some people already have their decorations. Besides, a lot of this is for the cottage. We're going to decorate everything."

Orlando's mind was suddenly filled with images of their home looking as if Christmas had regurgitated all over it. He could see it now--lights covering every surface, dancing Santas in every corner, reindeer with blinking noses in the lawn, mistletoe dangling from all the doorways--actually, he thought with a grin, maybe the mistletoe wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"So what happened to your Christmas spirit?" Colin asked as he began emptying the bags onto the floor.

"It just got strangled by a strand of gold tinsel," Orlando answered, holding up the package. "Two hundred yards?! What are we going to do with two hundred yards of gold tinsel?"

"I know," Colin said, his nose wrinkling with consternation, "I didn't think it would be enough either. That's why I got five of them."

"A thousand yards of gold tinsel! That's it--no more shopping for you. You're cut off."

"Sure, babe. Whatever," he grinned, tossing another box of tinsel at his lover.

"PINK?" Orlando exclaimed, eyes growing wide. "You bought pink tinsel?"

"It's fuchsia!" Colin protested, looking hurt.

"It's pink. Hot pink."

"It's fuchsia, to match your bloody cranberries, and the gold is to match your popcorn."

"And I suppose you bought a thousand yards of this, too."

"Well, yeah. I thought we could drape it over the branches in waves, weaving one over the other. What do you think?"

"I think it'll be a lovely pink and gold tree," Orlando nodded, biting the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing.

"Fuck you."

"Not until the tree is decorated and all of this is cleaned up.

"And not even then, at this rate," Colin said, staring at the box in his hand, looking extremely reluctant to set it down.

"What have you got there?" Orlando asked, all innocence, and his lover gave him a dirty look.

"Nothing," he said, shoving it back into the bag.

"Sure it is," Orlando said, reaching for the bags nearest him.

"Don't you dare—"

Orlando opened it and started pulling out boxes of ornaments--gold balls, red balls, white balls, silver balls, maroon balls, pink balls, gold balls with white glitter, red balls with silver glitter, white balls with gold glitter, and so on and so forth in every combination. Looking at the remaining bags, Orlando realized Colin had bought so many ornaments, there wouldn't be any green left on the tree. And the lights--there were at least a dozen strands of white twinkle lights. If they actually attempted to put all of those on, they'd either set the tree on fire, or they'd go blind.

He just couldn't hold back any longer. Looking around at the pink and gold mess, at the bags whose contents he hadn't even seen yet, Orlando started to laugh. "Colin Farrell, you are so fucking gay."

"What?" he snapped, uncertain as to whether or not he should feel offended by this declaration.

Standing up, Orlando carefully waded through the packages to Colin's chair and straddled his lover, wrapping his arms around the Irishman's neck.

"I love you."

"Hmph," he grumbled. "Then stop making fun of my decorations. It's all your fault, anyway. I just wanted to make sure everything went with those cranberry and popcorn strands of yours."

"You're color coordinating! That's so cute," Orlando cooed.

"Orlando Farrell, you're going to get slapped."

"Don't you mean ‘spanked'?" he winked.

"You think being adorable is going to get you out of this?"

"Mm-hmm," he nodded, nuzzling Colin's neck.

"I thought there was going to be no fucking until the tree was decorated," he said, reluctantly allowing his hands to seek Orlando's waist.

"There isn't," he answered, nimble fingers reaching between them to unbuckle Colin's belt. "Consider this an early Christmas present."

Undoing Colin's pants, he slipped a hand inside and wrapped it around the hardening shaft.

"I don't know if I want a Christmas handjob from you, you Grinch," the Irishman said, managing to sound both petulant and breathless.

"Forgive me if I find that somewhat difficult to believe," Orlando said, nibbling on Colin's earlobe while giving his wrist a bit of a twist. His lover gasped, then moaned at Orlando's teasing strokes.

"You're an evil fucking Elf, you this, don't you?"

"I take great pride in it," he chuckled, rolling his thumb over the foreskin, the Irishman shuddering with pure delight.

"Damn right, you do," Colin said, taking Orlando's face between his hands. "I'm just glad you're my evil fucking Elf. I know I don't say it often enough, but I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Silly wanker, you don't have to say it," Orlando said, leaning forward to kiss him, but Colin pulled away.

"Yes, I do, especially since I have a feeling we're going to be snapping at each other a lot over the next couple weeks. I want you to know that you're the only one I'll ever love and the only one I'll ever want in my life."

Orlando hung his head a little, his face taking on a slight flush. "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a git. This is an entirely new kind of stress for me, and I'm not sure how to handle it. I just want everyone to have a good Christmas."

"And we will, luv, I promise. We'll get through this holiday in one piece, and we'll be in New Zealand before you know it."

The Brit's face lit up, his hand quickening on Colin's cock.

"Should I be flattered that New Zealand gets you excited," Colin teased, "or jealous?"

"Neither," Orlando answered. "You're the only one who gets me excited. The prospect of New Zealand simply enhances the excitement."

"Nice save, babe," he chuckled, and Orlando grinned, kissing him fully. He slipped his tongue into Colin's mouth, losing himself in the Irishman's taste. Before long, he felt the waves of orgasm rush through his lover's body, Colin's wet heat spilling over his fingers. When he would have moved, Colin grabbed onto him, holding him close, placing one of his own hands over the hand in his pants. "Mmm. . . where do you think you're going?"

"To get cleaned up and finish decorating."

"I think you just stole my last ounce of energy."

He arched and eyebrow. "Your last ounce?"

"Mmm-hmm. . ." he nodded. "In fact, I think we'd better head off to bed for a quick. . . nap."

"Incorrigible," Orlando laughed.

"And yet oh-so-loveable."

"Well, that's a matter of opinion," he said wryly and Colin growled, biting at his neck.

"Guess we're just lucky my opinion is the only one that matters."

Rolling his eyes, Orlando snuggled against him, lightly massaging the soft organ in his hand. "You just keep believing that, Mr. Bloom, and see how far it gets you."

"I've already got an idea how far I can get," Colin said with a leer, and Orlando felt him beginning to harden again.

"I love the holidays," he said with a happy sigh as Colin's lips once more sought his. "Nowhere to go, and no one to please."

"Except each other."

Orlando stood up and drew Colin to his feet to lead him to the bedroom, all the while keep his hand in Colin's pants. "Except each other," he nodded.

THE END

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