Foreign Customs – Mistletoe Kiss
It was cold out in the streets. So cold that Leon and Buddy had decided to continue their conversation inside.
They had been walking together, speaking about past times. But at some point, alternately taking sips of vodka from the flask Buddy had secured on the frame of his wheelchair, had not been enough to keep them warm.
Right now, Buddy was trying to open the door to his apartment with stiff hands; gripping the icy metal of the rolling chair had made the cold seep into his fingers even faster. Leon, too, was rubbing his hands together in an attempt to get the blood running through his veins again.
Finally, Buddy unlocked the door with a resounding click and pushed it open. Turning on the lights and making his way through the hallway his gaze fell upon the branch hanging from the ceiling. It was a mistletoe, something J.D. had always put up during this time of the year. Apparently it was some kind of American Christmas tradition. One day J.D. had set up this one in Buddy's own flat. That was the reason why Sasha kept it and decorated the room with this keepsake of the past.
The brunette was just about to ask Leon what the meaning behind the tradition was, when he felt a hand on his shoulder and the presence of the other man beside him, getting closer. And before he knew it, Leon bent down and placed his mouth on his.
At once, all logical thinking seemed to fail him as their noses touched and cold lips brushed against his.
Then, just like it had never happened, Leon let go of him and stood.
Buddy felt the urge to pinch himself, but refrained from doing so. Instead he looked up at the American agent whose facial expression betrayed nothing as he returned the gaze.
Buddy kept staring at him for a moment longer, before he got his bearings.
"What the hell was that about?" The question sounded not half as angry as it should have, to his own ears; the obvious shock over the unexpected move was evident in his voice.
Leon cocked his head, his emotions still unreadable.
"Isn't that why you have a mistletoe?"
Buddy was even more confused about the remark - and about what it implied.
Did Leon think he wanted to... - no, that couldn't be it. And what did it all have to do with the small branch that innocently swung from a thread above them?
"J.D. gave it to me. He said something about American tradition-" Buddy paused, thinking. And suddenly it dawned to him. "Wait. Is that what it means?"
Now Leon's lips curled up into his typical smirk.
"Kissing when you meet under a mistletoe. Yes."
Buddy closed his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out a reason for doing something like this. But judging from what he remembered of J.D.'s ramblings, it really just was another silly thing Americans did; when he thought about it now, he could even recall his friend pointing it out in one Hollywood movie they had watched together (the only one - Buddy never had felt insane enough to repeat the torture).
"You Americans and your stupid traditions..."
Leon just shrugged at the comment. He was evidently enjoying teasing the Slav.
"It was fun, right."
The damn bastard's grin didn't fade for even one second and in its boldness that kind of attitude succeeded in defeating Buddy's anger; as it had done many times before.
He shook his head; he knew he couldn't hold a grudge against the agent. And a new, even more important realization made a small grin of his own appear on his lips, resulting in a quizzical look from the blond for a change.
"We're still standing below the mistletoe..."
And when Buddy dared to glance up again, half hoping for, half dreading the response, he decided that the smile that spread on Leon's face had to be the most sincere one the other man had ever shown him.
