A/N: So I woke up yesterday morning and was filled with the most excitement I've ever felt since I was little.
Then I realized it wasn't Christmas morning. So then it was a big downer and I went back to sleep.
OH GOD AND SOME OF THE STUFF IN HERE TOTALLY ISN'T MY FAULT IT'S THE CHOCOLATE I SWEAR.
Insert Witty Title Here
"It's that time again! Don't be in bed! We have a party to get to!"
Soren jumped, reaching for his Elwind and missing completely, instead knocking over a stack of papers and nearly knocking over his candle. He struggled briefly to get out of bed and failed miserably, instead getting tangled in his blanket. When he finally disentangled himself and looked at his door, he saw Ike standing there, hiding a smirk behind a hand. The sage's eyes narrowed.
"Very funny," he muttered, looking around for his hair ties. Before he could even catch a glimpse of them, the ranger was landing on top of him, nuzzling into his hair. Soren sighed.
"Come on. It's not even sunup yet. You of all people should be asleep."
"I certainly should not." Ike smiled. "Listen."
They were silent, and through the hall came shouts and laughter. The sounds of people running. Excited greetings and shouts of holiday greetings. A crash now and then. Boyd yelling at Rolf and Oscar shouting at both of them, and the Great Knight Kieran shouting at Oscar. Gatrie, Shinon, and Janaff demanding to know where all the ale had gone, and Ranulf, Kyza, and Skrimir arguing over who would eat the most that night. Tormod shouting at Sothe about how tall he was and Micaiah sighing in the background. Everyone they'd met.
Ike smiled. "Up you get, Soren. It's Yule. Everyone's come to see us, and you shouldn't be in bed. Stefan's asking where you are, you know."
The sage groaned, rolling onto his stomach.
Something smacked his ass.
"Don't be a grouch," Ike ordered, biting the shell of his ear. "Or I'll punish you."
The sage grinned, crimson eyes narrowing and his Brand shimmering in the dim candlelight. "I hate this season. Kieran's too loud. Rolf and Mist end up sugar rushing. Your headband is ugly. It's too cold outside."
Ike cracked his knuckles and grinned.
"You're in for it now," he purred. "Any last words?"
"I love you."
A rough hand met his backside.
"I love you, too."
Merry Whatever
Someone had spiked the eggnog.
Rhys was sure of it. Normally he'd say that it had been either Gatrie or Shinon who had done it, but they were busy 'makin' face' in a corner (or at least that was how Mia had phrased it). Regardless of the term, they were in a corner, kissing, grinding (Rhys looked away at this point), and not capable of spiking any eggnog.
The next option could potentially be Mia, who had certainly hinted at pulling off antics such as this earlier in the week. However, she was busy chasing around anything that had a pulse with mistletoe—whether she was serious about 'getting some hot hot ass' was debatable, but she looked as though she was having a good time. Too much to spike the eggnog.
Oscar and Kieran and Janaff were on a table and singing about the nineteenth day of Yule, in which their true rival gave them nineteen bigass orgies.
…what?
Boyd was chasing a slightly tipsy Rolf around with what appeared to be a spatula.
Kyza. Poor, poor Kyza was busy getting his hair braided by Lethe and Lyre.
Sothe, Tormod, Edward, Nolan, Leonardo, Nailah, Rafiel, Reyson, and Leanne were playing reverse strip poker while Tibarn and Naesala readily supplied clothing to the losers. Poor Tormod was wearing so much that it seemed to be a miracle he was able to move his arms, and he was shouting past four scarves that they should really do this outside to prevent heatstroke.
Laura and Volug seemed to be getting nice and cozy in front of the fire, while Aran supervised from a safe distance, an approving smile on his face.
The rest of the mercenaries and former soldiers were mulling about in their own little groups and dodging Mia's antics now and then, mildly tipsy but otherwise not in an extremely drunken stupor.
"Nice party, eh?"
Rhys jumped, nearly spilling his wine. Long fingers brushed his cheek and then someone was nuzzling against his neck, wings wrapping around him. He let out a breath and smiled.
"Agreed. A little rowdier than usual but…it's a reunion too, isn't it? I suppose that those are supposed to be a bit rowdy now and then."
Ulki nodded, lightly biting down on the archbishop's neck and sucking.
"Dooon't," Rhys half-moaned. "What will…and…"
Before he knew what was happening he was being carted off to his room and tossed onto his bed. The hawk landed beside him and burrowed against his chest.
"I love you," Ulki murmured. Rhys smiled, catching the scent of alcohol on the hawk's breath.
"Sleep, lovely," he whispered, kicking off his shoes and somehow slipping off Ulki's sandals with his feet. "I'll be here in the morning."
"M'kay," the hawk replied, relaxing. "Love you."
"I love you too, Ulki."
Merry Whatever
"Rival…?"
Oscar blinked a few times, attempting to make the walls stop spinning—it was downright hilarious, but mildly nauseating as well. Kieran tipped over, slumping against the wall, and Oscar caught him, dragging the other paladin to his feet and helping him to their room.
"Rival?"
This time the redhead's voice was clearer, and Oscar nodded.
"Yes, Kieran?"
"I love you."
Oscar smiled, searching for their blanket and pulling it overtop the younger knight. Kieran burrowed into their only pillow and Oscar sighed, spooning against the other man.
"I love you too, Kieran. Happy Yule."
Kieran snored in response.
Merry Whatever
Shinon wasn't sure exactly why he was naked and on the kitchen counter with a pounding headache and Gatrie sprawled on the floor underneath him.
He faintly remembered drinking—lots and lots of drinking, and a game of reverse strip poker early in the night, which had been abandoned after his fifth mug of ale. Then a corner, and Gatrie pushing against him, grinding, lifting him until the sniper couldn't do anything but wrap his legs around the other man and kiss back just as heatedly.
Sex on the counter, though? Shinon shook his head and smiled. Well, they had compiled a list of places to have sex, after all…this was one more thing they could check off.
"Mornin'," Gatrie yawned. "Why're you naked?"
"For the same reason you are." Shinon smiled, looking around for his pants and finding them hanging off a chair. He vaulted off the counter, immediately getting dizzy and swaying in place. Gatrie was digging in the cabinets nearest to him, and produced a bottle of rum. He took a gulp and sighed contentedly, then offered the bottle to Shinon. The sniper took it, then sank to the floor beside the knight.
"Happy Yule, Shii," Gatrie murmured. "Should we get everyone up?"
"All hung-over and grouchy?" The redhead smirked. "Let's get dressed first. They hardly need to see us naked first thing in the morning."
"We could get into bed with Mia and scare the life out of her."
Shinon couldn't remember any idea ever being that hilarious.
Merry Whatever
"My ass hurts."
"I am in no way surprised."
Soren gave Ike a look, and his commander smiled playfully. "You're the one who misbehaved. We didn't even see anyone last night. It was Yule and everything."
"They're still here, aren't they? Most of them, anyways."
Ike yawned and nodded. "Should be. All crammed into places they shouldn't be, but…yes."
Soren smiled and burrowed into Ike's chest. "Then we'll wake everyone up and see them now."
"Shinon and Gatrie are dealing with it."
The sage blinked. "Ashera, no…something horrible is going to happen."
"Could be worse. Recall for me that time that Ilyana accidentally zapped Gatrie's junk."
Both men burst out laughing and there was a faint 'I heard that!' from down the hall.
"Happy Yule," Ike whispered, pressing kisses to the sage's collarbone. Soren smiled, entangling his fingers in his commander's hair.
"I love you, Ike."
Ike smiled. "I love you too."
And then Shinon was bursting into the room with Stefan and Mia close behind, and the three were jumping onto the bed and causing a general upstir.
Best. Yule. Ever.