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Hello everyone,

So I'd like to start off by saying that I did not write this. This is a holiday commission done for me by Jeeves based on a concept I submitted to him.

All I Want For Christmas

The holiday season is a time for fun. For friendship. For good cheer, and all that candyland silliness which made that time of year, Christmas in particular for a great many, so enjoyable to share with those they cared for.

"C'mon, that's not fair man! You know the rules."

As Edgar pursued his best friend through the shopping mall, one hand clutching the bag which held the gift that the stoic, lean figured lion had bought him not fifteen minutes before, he couldn't understand why Charlie was being so contrary all of a sudden. They'd had this same system in place for years and it hadn't failed them on a single occasion. It was simple, easy, and it had always made for a fun trip to the stores after the post Black Friday rush had died down. With a budget of $20, they would shop together and buy their friend whatever it was they asked for within that financial restriction. There was no awkwardness about asking for what you wanted, no feeling guilty about the price, and the absolute understanding that whatever shopping was done, a great day would be had by both parties.

Up until recently, indeed right up to the moment where Charlie and Edgar had left the music store one floor up with the lion's gift for Edgar safely secured, this day had been a prime example of that fun and holiday joy. When they were back out into the mall itself however, and the brightly plumed raven/ parrot hybrid had asked his mammalian companion what he wanted for Christmas in return, things had taken a rapid and painful turn towards awkwardness. Charlie's lips had sealed, his broad, toothy smile fading into a painfully forced absence of emotion, and he had picked up the pace of his walking as though attempting to actively escape from his friend's company. Thankfully though, Edgar wasn't one to be shunned so easily.

"Charlie, come on, this really isn't cool!"

Grabbing the lion by the shoulder with his free hand, Edgar tugged Charlie round to face him both as firmly and inconspicuously as he could. The last thing he wanted was for some security guard to think that they were fighting and involve themselves unnecessarily in... in whatever this was. When the avian male did manage to swing Charlie round towards him though, and when he finally did find himself gazing into the lion's well kept, closely trimmed and maneless face, he was surprised by what he saw. Not embarrassment, the only conceivable reason which Edgar had been able to come up with for his friend's reluctance to speak up. At least, not just embarrassment. Anger. Anger at being confronted. Sorrow. Sorrow at causing such a fuss in a public place, so much so in fact that tears hung in the corners of Charlie's eyes, not yet spilled but ready to spill at any moment. And above all a feeling beyond embarrassment and beyond anger. A feeling directed not just at Edgar, or himself, but everything and everyone in the entire world. Frustration.

Edgar's curious, almost aggravated expression died away in an instant, replaced by sheer concern and love for his best friend. The firm hand upon his shoulder became a comforting one, and with a quick glance to their left and right, Edgar silently and yet purposefully guided the clearly worried feline out of the busy mall's bustling ground floor and into the nearest shop, a two floored clothing store. Without a word the pair passed through rack upon rack of skinny jeans, t-shirts with all sorts of logos for bands neither of them would have recognised even if they'd taken the time to look, shirts that ranged from black to pink and even a rack of accessories clearly made for teen posers; cheap studded collars, leather wristbands and similarly gothic and emo paraphernalia.

Stopping only to snatch a few shirts from a rack without really looking to see what size or colour they were, Edgar led Charlie towards the fitting rooms at the rear of the store. A dagger of guilt passed through the bird as he saw the skinny male standing at the entrance to the fitting area, swaying his hips and twisting his head to the beat of the Lady Gaga song currently playing over the store's sound system; no doubt a refreshing change from the mix of emo classics and Christmas songs that were probably the standard at this time of year. Edgar himself was gay, but as he approached the swinging, swishing otter he deliberately, almost painfully so, camped up every possible aspect of his personality. Raising his feathered hand from Charlie's shoulder only so that he could throw it melodramatically across his brow, Edgar leaned close to the now curious otter, obviously checking them out and seeing Charlie's still painfully blank, mournful expression.

"Look... I need you to really help me out here. My... my friend and I need some time alone in your fitting area. He just had a call from his..."

Edgar looked the otter up and down, and in a moment made a snap decision which he knew could alter the success or failure of this painfully clichÈ, last ditch scheme.

"...father, and... well, words were had. You know how it is with fathers."

The look of pain upon the otter's face told Edgar he'd hit a home run. If the circumstances weren't both so tragically funny and simply tragic, he would have crowed aloud at his perfect prediction and portrayal of a flamboyant gay man in distress.

"Long story short, my boy here needs the perfect shirt for the family Christmas party next week. Unless he looks absolutely perfect it'll be a whole night of judgement and rhetoric about the shame he brought to the family. He needs to look strong. He needs to look fearless! He needs to be the man that no father could deny. And... I can't talk sense into him if you or your manager are gonna come in and check on us every five minutes like we're some horny teens just looking to have some fun and get off on the risk, y'know?"

It was an academy award winning performance. If he'd been any more convincing, the otter would have been crying. As it was the clerk couldn't usher them into the fitting rooms fast enough, directing them to the far right and ensuring them that for the next half hour at least he'd show any customers to the left hand side, and otherwise tell any staff that the stalls were empty. The crowning glory was when the otter threw his arms briefly around Charlie, shocking the lion free from his woeful catatonia for a moment as his eyes widened and he stared, a little scared, a little amused at Edgar, and hugged him oh so tightly while whispering a fond, encouraging cheer in the feline's ear.

"Don't let the bastard get you down. W-we're... I mean, you're better than that."

As the otter departed, shooting a caring, motherly look over his shoulder as he returned to his post with a renewed sense of purpose and determination, Charlie and Edgar slipped into the far right fitting room. Once there, they stared at one another for a moment or two in silence. Edgar was the first to crack, smirking for a moment, then snickering loudly. Even Charlie couldn't help shaking with silent laughter, his serious attitude temporarily slipping away as they revelled in the sheer exhilaration of Edgar having gotten away with such a ruse. Unfortunately it only lasted a short while, the laughter already fading when their eyes met, and the serious look of hopeful concern which passed from bird to feline sealing the big cat's return to head shaking, red faced solemnity.

Edgar put down the bag containing his own gift, and placed both his hands upon Charlie's shoulders. The lion growled under his breath, but did not try to shake the hands off. His eyes fell shut and refused, rather childishly, to open again even when Edgar uttered his name in a pleading tone.

"Charlie..."

Frowning at his lack of a response, having known the lion long enough to know that they didn't have to pull punches with one another, Edgar shook Charlie and spoke his name again, more violently than before.

"Charlie! Look at me, dammit!"

The lion's eyes snapped open, light green hues piercing Edgar's soul and filling him with regret for employing such a frustrated tone as tears did on this occasion begin to run down the sandy furred cheeks of his friend.

Shaking his head, Charlie opened his muzzle as though to speak, but then closed it again before he could sob or simply groan in sorrow. His hands tightened into fists by his side, and the shaking of his head increased at a far more furious rate. Whatever was preying on his mind, it was a heavy and painful weight.

"Charlie... jeez, man, please just tell me what's wrong. Since when have you not been able to talk to me about this kind of stuff... whatever it is."

The lion growled under his breath, and again his eyes flashed with that same hatred of the whole world for being the way that it was. Emotional, frustrated and furious, obviously saying what his rational mind knew he absolutely shouldn't, Charlie snapped at Edgar in a short, gruff voice so very different from his normally oh so pleasant purr of a tone.

"That's just it though. That's the fucking problem. You're the one person in the world I can't say this to."

Edgar stared at his companion, stunned and utterly confused. He felt so foolish having to ask this, but it really didn't seem like Charlie was going to willingly volunteer any further information and the question currently resting upon the avian male's mind was the only one which seemed to have any legitimate relevance to their current situation, or how they'd arrived at this point.

"Is it... something to do with your Christmas gift from me? Something you feel you can't ask for? Something you want, but... you think I won't want to give you?"

A louder, more pained growl came from Charlie. It was an obvious sign that Edgar wasn't on the right track, but for blatantly simple reasons he couldn't bring himself to be happy about being correct. Indeed as Charlie pulled away from him, turning away as though to attempt escape once more only to find himself boxed in within the small changing room, Edgar felt even worse than he had before. Watching as the lion raised his fists in frustration, so close to driving one balled up palm loudly and with sheer anguish into the wall and blowing any hope of maintaining their thus far discreet cover, the avian male felt totally useless.

Thankfully, the feline male's own common sense pulled him back from the brink, and instead of acting out his violence he simply vocalised it in the only way his tortured, stressed out mind could think of at that moment in time. Entirely without thought, entirely without intention, his mind simply too wrapped up in its own worries and shame and sorrow to care, Charlie blurted out the very secret he was fighting so hard to keep right then and there, so carelessly and angrily that it almost slipped past both him and Edgar all but unnoticed.

"No. I mean, yes, okay! Fuck it, yes... yes I want it. For Christmas. For ten minutes. For ten damned seconds right now... I want it."

Shaking his head yet again, so lost, so pained, so senselessly, needlessly ashamed, Charlie threw his hands up into the air and spoke the words he had been hiding away inside himself for as long as he'd known his best friend as an out, openly gay man.

"I want you, Edgar. I... I want you. Not some CD. Not some $20 retro video game or movie boxset. I want something that won't caused you a single cent. Just... just you."

In another life, in another world, there might have been an awkward silence after that moment and the revelation which it contained.

However, in this world... in this particular world with Charlie being who he was, or who he normally was anyway, the last fifteen minutes notwithstanding, and Edgar being who he was as well... there simply wasn't much place for awkward silences in this friendship.

Thus as Charlie threw himself violently forward, grabbing Edgar's hands and pinning them to the wall of the fitting room as he pressed his lips against the tip of the bird's firm beak, any awkwardness which might have been threatening to spread across them, waiting in the wings for its moment to strike, was swept away in the sea of a far greater moment of potential awkwardness. Both males were incredibly aware of this fact though, and both knew that as long as they didn't stop kissing, as long as they didn't give the awkwardness a change to get a foothold until there was no going back regardless, they'd be absolutely fine.

And, of course, there was the small matter that both of them, the kisser and the kissee, wanted this more than anything else in the world Edgar wanted it even if he was only just being shown that he wanted it, moment by moment, second by second, while Charlie's tongue slipped into his beak and brushed their tongues together tauntingly, as though daring him not to fall in love right then and there.

From that moment onward it could only be said that events snowballed, bigger and faster than the most powerful and devastating winter blizzard. A passionate, desperate kiss, made out of hopeless hope and senseless sense, suddenly meant something. Two bodies already so close in friendship found themselves in closer proximity than ever before, chirping, purring, smooching and longing like neither of them had ever dared. If it wasn't real it would have been a dream, and if both of them had wanted it then it would have been a dream come true, but for Edgar at least that wasn't the case. To the bird this was nothing short of a joyous holiday surprise, like waking up on Christmas morning as a child and racing through to the living room not knowing what you might find, or as an eighteen year old, curiously opening up the dull, understated small brown box that your parents handed to you on your birthday and finding a jingling, sparkling set of keys inside; keys to a whole new world of freedom, independence, and endless budgeting for petrol.

No-one spoke, neither of the pair yet daring to tear their faces from one another or part their tongues from this seeming marriage made in heaven which they had discovered. Nor did they hesitate though, or allow their minds to wander or linger upon any thoughts of what could be if they pursued this course of action to a less than fruitful end. It was just like Charlie had said. For Christmas. For ten minutes. For ten seconds all that they wanted to do was keep on kissing one another, holding one another, touching and feeling one another, and now that it was happening they would fight to keep that moment alive until it either burned out, or caught and blazed with a fire that would endure for longer than their fiercely rubbing kindling would permit.

A fresh near-silence filled the changing area, though about as far from an awkward silence as was physically possible, while Edgar and Charlie fought to hush their gasps and groans and soft, passionate coos as what had started as kissing rapidly spiralled into more, and more, and so much more. Edgar's fingers clutched at tight bundles of the fabric of his now less than platonic best friend's shirt, shivering and blushing brightly with the effort it took to keep from tossing his head back and singing like a songbird. He could feel his trousers being pushed down his legs, his blush deepening as he felt and heard Charlie giggle, the lion discovering that he'd been going commando beneath his single layer of lower garments. His own hands slid down, forcing themselves to release the lion's shirt, and to his glee felt bare fur beneath the bare tips of his digits. Charlie had already lowered his own trousers, and so as the avian male tugged at the feline's hips, pulling their midriffs tightly together, there was nothing remaining to keep them apart.

It took absolutely every scrap of willpower at the two males' command for them not to cry out in ecstasy and excitement as their cocks, having risen to erection shamefully quickly as though they'd been awaiting such a moment for years, pressed up against one another. There was no true shame in what they did though, and while the euphoria and potent thrill of knowing what they did in public would remain with them for a great deal of time to come that knowledge had not yet hit the pair. Right now all that either Charlie or Edgar cared about was that they were together; touching, kissing and feeling one another so intimately, so intensely that it felt like a fire was burning at their flesh.

The two males shuddered and rubbed up against one another, their kissing sloppier and more arousing by the second. Charlie's right hand, wrapped around both his and Edgar's erections, squeezed them tightly up against their newfound lover's shaft and stroked them in perfect unison, masturbation, frotting and oh so many other delicious terms for these acts of pleasure all rolled into one. It fell to the avian meanwhile to hold their bodies together in a more complete sense, one hand feverishly caressing and holding the lion's cute, curvy rump while the other slid up underneath Charlie's shirt, running his fingertips down his beloved friend's spine and delighting in making the big cat groan under his breath and quiver violently.

The delightful, intoxicating sounds of two bodies exerting themselves sexually, huffing, gasping, sucking in air at as frantic a rate as possible to maximise time spent mid lip-lock, infected Charlie and Edgar like a virus. Their eyes were wide, glazed and fixated upon one another's own hues, shimmering with seemingly endless glee and lust as their hips bumped, rolled and humped flesh against flesh, cock against cock, and Charlie swept them towards rapture with his soft and tender paw. There was a part of Edgar that longed to whisper a joke to his friend, to hear those soft murmurs of pleasure mingling with his happy laughter. He found himself almost constantly on the verge of telling Charlie that his paw felt so good, all his practice must have really paid off. At the same time though he knew he'd never ruin this perfect moment with something so silly and crass as a masturbation joke, if only because the idea of Charlie lying back in bed or standing in the shower of their shared apartment, shuddering and moaning in euphoric abandon as he pawed himself through a sticky, passionate orgasm, was something so deliciously erotic that the mere thought nearly sent him over the edge each and every time it crossed his mind.

As worked up as they were though, as excited, as enthralled, as mindlessly horny as their newfound affection had made them, both males knew that they were in the very same boat with regard to orgasm. Neither of them wished to hold back, their minds filled with all sorts of fantasies, now unrestrained and guilt free. Fantasies of what was to come, the feeling of a beak wrapped around Charlie's thick, heavy seven inch cock, or the sensation of the lion's rump squeezing and clenching around Edgar's own hungry, amply endowed member. Dreams of what might have been; the avian male's own fantasies of Charlie's past solo endeavours joined by Charlie's memories of those nights when he'd heard Edgar's desk chair squeaking, knowing full well what the bird was doing and feverishly, wracked with guilt but more so by longing, pawing himself as Edgar's chair squeaked faster, faster, and then a muffled but unbeknownst to his dear friend audible squawk of pleasure echoing through the apartment. All of these thoughts and more swarmed through the two lover's heads as they rubbed themselves up against one another, and thus inevitably, undeniably, it all became too much for them to handle before more than twenty minutes had been passed together in this oh so public, oh so exposed little fitting room.

Charlie's eyes burned like the cores of two brand new suns, white hot and yet new, fresh, somehow innocent, as they stared into Edgar's own twinkling, bashfully shimmering hues. Beak and muzzle parted, just long enough for one of the pair to whimper, and the other to groan in knowing, ecstatic agreement, and then as Charlie pulled his paw away from the two throbbing, twitching erections and wrapped both arms tightly around Edgar in a mutual and beautiful embrace, the lion received his early Christmas gift... the first of an endless number the pair would share and give freely over the coming holiday season.

Grunting, gasping and shuddering within one another's arms, Edgar and Charlie's cocks lashed one another's crotches, stomachs and shirts with their seed. They sobbed and moaned in strictly, almost painfully self imposed silence as their throbbing, cumming cocks rubbed and swelled against each other over and over again, every instant of contact provoking yet more needle sharp and painfully potent pleasure to surge through their systems. Their heads rested upon one another's shoulders, eyes closed and muzzles wide open, as they came, and had it not been for Edgar's body resting firmly up against the fitting room wall, they would undeniably have collapsed to the floor in a cumming, quivering mound.

It was in the dying instants of their shared orgasm that Edgar opened his eyes, and though blurred with continued, lingering pleasure, saw the shapes of the several shirts he'd grabbed from the rack hanging off the back of the fitting room door.

A soft, fatigued burst of laughter escaped the bird, half a sound of sheer happiness at what had just happened and half one of genuine mirth as he felt Charlie's warm cum oozing against his feathers, the lion's still stiff cock twitching once or twice in its final throes of orgasmic bliss and spilling a few last drops both onto and around his shirt.

Today, it seemed, Edgar would have to break the rules of their gift-giving for the very first time, and spend more than $20 so that they could leave the store without having to somehow hide the cum-stained clothing upon their upper halves. Strangely though, or perhaps not so strangely given what had just happened, the avian male wasn't particularly bothered by that thought anymore. It had been a good tradition, yes, while it had lasted. But times changed... and personally, though he wasn't quite willing to speak for the happily purring lion resting his head, half asleep upon his shoulder, Edgar was quite looking forward to breaking this rule of theirs.

That way, the two of them could spend the rest of the holiday season making new rules for gift giving as it stood under this new definition, and of course they would have to rigorously test out every last one of them.

Twice each, at least.

By Jeeves