A/N: As promised, a Chrismas Jerishow. The song in here is 'It feels like Christmas' from the movie 'A Muppet Christmas Carol' and can be found on youtube. I don't own the song or the guys, just the idea. So ENJOY!
Almost sluggishly Chris pulled himself up the front walk, his eyes drooping closed as he set is bags in the snow and growling as he fought with his keys. He had had a horrible flight back to the states and wanted nothing more than to curl up with Paul and forget about it. That however seemed to not be in his plans as he peeked in the front window. All the lights looked like they were off and he wondered if Paul was even home. It wasn't even 7:30 and he had said that he'd be there when Chris had called him from the airport and told him he was on his way home.
"Maybe he ran out to the store to get some things." Chris murmured as he finally found the right key.
Even though it a more rational thought, Chris still felt let down when he finally gained entrance and seen that the house was in fact empty of life other than himself. Even Paul's dogs were nowhere to be found and usually they ran barking and yipping to the door. With a deep sigh Chris drug his suitcase in the house and dropped it unceremoniously on the marble flooring, scowling unconsciously as the garish headline of their local caught his eye.
"Bah. Humbug." He kicked the paper and headed into the kitchen intent of getting himself a glass of Grey Goose to help erase the bad trip and put him in a slight better frame of mind when Paul got back.
As he rifled through the cabinets he caught sight of a piece of paper lying on the counter. It was covered in Paul's neat, flowing handwriting. He picked it up and read it over twice, not comprehending what it was supposed to convey. All it was a bunch of words jumbled together and after a couple minutes he dropped it back on the counter and resumed his search for a cup for his liquor. That too got abandoned when he couldn't find one and he took a couple of strong swallows from the bottle, grimacing slightly at the bite as it trickled down his throat. A thump from upstairs caught his attention and he cast a squinty eyed look at the ceiling and waited to see if it would happen again. After about five minutes it did and Chris set the bottle down and started up the back set of stairs that led to the second floor.
From under the door that lead to his and Paul's room multicolored light poured out and Chris furrowed his brow in thought. There was no reason for any color of light to be in his room other than plain white. Another thump sounded and he scowled as he moved over the door, thinking that maybe Paul had put the dogs in there while he ran whatever errand he was running.
"They better not have chewed on my Rock Band set up." He growled as he flung the door open in hopes of catching them in the act.
He stopped dead however when he seen Paul lying on the bed in what looked like ruby silk pajama's. A Christmas tree was set up in the corner, its lights casting soft light and dancing in his peripheral vision.
"What's all this?" He questioned as he waved his hand at the tree and the garland that was hung around the door frames.
"Well," Paul's face turned red and he looked down. "I know you don't normally like this time of year, but I was hoping…"
"Hoping what Paul? That the sight of Christmas lights in my bedroom would change that? That if I see them before I go to bed and when I wake up I suddenly fall in love with the season again?" Chris sighed and started in on one of his customary rants. "Paul, Christmas is nothing more than a corporate holiday anymore. There's no one helping their neighbors, or caring for those that can't care for themselves. All they care about is what new phone they're getting or what game system. Where in the hell is the love that's supposed to be bandied about like a cheap whore in an old west saloon? No where. On the way from the airport I had ten people run into me and then yell at me as if it were my fault. Had they been watching where they were going it never would have happened." Chris's lips were tilted down in a scowl so deep that for a moment Paul was afraid it'd stick that way.
Chris stomped over to the bed and dropped down face first, growling when he heard the soft strains of some Christmas song or another playing in the back ground. He turned his head to the side to snipe something at Paul but moaned instead when he felt the large hands of his lover gently kneading his back; running along his spine and making his muscles quiver. For a few moments he lost himself to the sensations and listened to the music, not really caring that it was Christmas music; all that mattered were Paul's hands and the magic they were working on him. That was until Paul started to sing.
"It's in the singing of a street corner choir; it's going home and getting warm by the fire. It's true, wherever you find love it feels like Christmas." Paul hit a tender spot and Chris whimpered, forgetting all about his agitation at the large man. "A cup of kindness that we share with another; a sweet reunion with a friend or a brother. In all the places you find love it feels like Christmas."
"Paul, I love you to death, but if you don't stop singing, I'm going to choke you." Chris murmured sleepily.
"Sure you are." Paul laughed but stopped his song.
He pulled Chris into his lap and pressed a kiss to his forehead, inhaling the scent of the man he missed so desperately. A light snore sounded in the room and Paul couldn't help but grin; Christmas might come once a year on a calendar, but when he held Chris in his arms it was as if Christmas happened every day.
"Where ever you find love it feels like Christmas." Paul murmured as he stretched out with Chris lying on top of him; smiling as he joined his lover in dream land.
