This is my (now not so) "Secret Santa gift" for Cookie-Crumble from the WFCTGIO thread. Now lets see if you can spot the little gifts I slipped in just for you... Hope you enjoy :-)

~s~c~

I walk into our flat and come to an abrupt halt. It's like a Christmas Elf vomited gold and glitter all over our home.

'Erm… Christian?' I call cautiously.

'Sy? You're home early! Excellent!' he says as he makes his way over from the bedroom.

'Hey, no wait!' I try and protest, but it's too late. I'm swept up by two powerful arms as he hugs me tight.

He twirls me round once and then thankfully puts me down. He's grinning like a loon and looks like he's covered in glittery fairy dust from head to toe. I suppose I am too now. Oh well… It's impossible to be mad at him when he looks this happy.

'Nice job with the Christmas decorations,' I remark drily.

Christian has the good grace to smile guiltily and even flush a little.

'You said it would be ok!' he says defensively, looking around the living room to admire his own handy work. 'It's good isn't it?'

'Sure, sure…' I tell him, because I don't have the heart to tell him any different. 'It's a bit… glittery though, isn't it'.

The grin comes back in full force.

'I know,' he enthuses. 'Festive, isn't it?'

I smile and nod. Because he looks so exhilarated, so happy, so… Christian. And besides, it's only a couple of days till Christmas. I'm sure I can bear it. I try not to grimace or squint my eyes while looking around. But then I'm distracted by an unexpected smell. I sniff cautiously.

'Is something burning?' I ask.

Christian looks stricken and quickly makes his way over to the kitchen. I can hear him groan and curse on the way.

'Oh no! They're ruined!'

I follow him into the kitchen to assess the damage. I'm just in time to see him slide a tray of almost charred little round objects that were once cookies from the oven. Christian dumps the tray into the sink and slides down to the kitchen floor in defeat, back resting against the kitchen cabinet. He looks ready to go into a strop, his bottom lip already threatening to protrude into a silly (yet irresistibly adorable) pout.

'Great!' he complains moodily. 'Well that's my Christmas plans ruined! Nothing ever works out the way I planned it. But that's life isn't it… C'est la vie and all that…'

I let myself slide down to the kitchen floor to keep him company.

'That's the way the cookie crumbles?' I offer, trying to keep a straight face.

He snickers, forgetting his sulk for just a moment. Not for long.

'Seriously though,' he says, 'I was going to bring that batch over to your Mum later. Spread a bit of Christmas cheer. I thought I'd at least make the effort…'

'You do remember we don't actually celebrate Christmas right? You know, seeing as we're Muslim?' I say gently.

He looks at me with reproach and says: 'Yes thank you Sy, I actually did know that! I just assumed she wouldn't object to a few cookies, Christmas or otherwise'.

'Sorry, sorry…' I apologise, throwing my hands up in mock defence. 'I'm sure she'll love them. Do you have some mixture left? We could make some new ones. I could even help you if you like?'

'No,' Christian says morosely. 'I only made enough for the one batch'.

'Ok…' I say thoughtfully. 'But we could make some more though, couldn't we? I could pop round the Minute Mart if we've run out of eggs or something?'

Christian sighs heavily.

'I suppose so,' he grumbles, still not entirely convinced.

'Go on… We'll put some of that disgustingly pink icing you like so much on them. I'll even let you lick the spoons if you promise to behave yourself,' I try and coax him.

This seems to perk him up a bit.

'I do like to lick spoons, especially when they're full of icing,' he admits.

'I know you do. Tell you what, if you're really good, I might even let you use those rude cookie shapes you got me last Valentine's,' I go on, gently nudging his shoulder with mine.

That brings the full grin back to his face, a very infectious grin that has me smiling along with him in no time.

'Can you imagine Zainab's face when she sees those cookies?' he says, the grin turning slightly wicked.

'Oh no mister, don't get any ideas! No way am I letting you give my Mum phallic shaped cookies,' I say sternly.

'But I thought you loved that type of thing,' he says, raising his eyebrows in a look of false innocence he will never be able to pull off.

I can't resist leaning in and kissing the smirk off his smiling lips. He tastes sweet, sweeter than usual, he's obviously been sampling the cookie dough. I pull only slightly back and say: 'Oh I do… I really do… But I believe that little hobby of mine is best enjoyed in private'.

To underline my words, I let my hand slide down his chest, over his belly and let it rest on the bulge in Christian's jeans suggestively. He lets out a gorgeous 'Mmmmmm' sound that sends a delicious shiver down my spine. He slips a hand in the back of my neck and pulls me in for another kiss.

The kiss starts sweet and innocent almost, but soon has me panting and leaning in closer. Almost without thinking about it, my hands move up to unbutton his shirt. I smooth down the hair on his chest, then rake my fingers through it and pull softly. He groans, the groans becoming louder and longer as my fingers search and find his nipples. I break away from our kiss to lean down and take first one, then the other nipple in my mouth. I love the way he hisses his breath and bucks his hips when I flick my tongue at the sensitive buds.

I sit back, wanting to get a good look at Christian as he is right now. I contemplate pushing his shirt off over his arms, but I decide I like him like this. I push his shirt aside to reveal all of his magnificent chest, but leave the sleeves on. But it would be even better if… I follow the trail of dark hair down his chest until my hand reaches the buttons of his jeans. It takes me no time at all to unbutton his jeans and push them half way down his thighs, Christian helpfully lifting his arse for me to do so. He's not wearing any pants. Cheeky bastard. Christian moves to push the jeans further down, but I place my hands over his to stop him.

'What?' he enquires.

'Nothing,' I reply, trying but failing to sound nonchalant, 'I just like you like this. Assures me you're not going anywhere and leaves me free to set my wicked plans into motion'.

His intrigued look brings goose bumps to life all over my skin. It's only now that I notice I've somehow lost both my sweater and my shirt. Wow. He's good.

'Wicked plans eh?' he says. 'I like the sound of that'.

'Thought you might,' I say, not even bothering to repress the smirk on my lips.

Again I look at him, I just can't get enough, have to keep looking. He's so beautiful like this, still partly dressed, but his chest, his thighs, his cock, all gloriously naked an just begging for my touch. Which I give, oh so willingly. My hands, my fingers, my lips, my tongue, they explore every piece of naked skin that is revealed to me. I love the familiarity of his taste, his touch, his scent… So familiar, I've touched, smelt and tasted it so many times yet it never seems enough. Never enough…

It takes my foggy brain a while to notice that Christian is tugging at my trousers, trying to get them off me. I scramble to my feet and quickly step out of trousers and pants, right after kicking off my boots and socks.

'Hey, no fair!' Christian complains from his spot on the floor. 'How come yours can come off and mine can't?'

I flash him a quick smile before I sink down on his lap, straddling his thighs. He immediately pulls up his legs slightly, making me slide even closer.

'You complaining?' I ask, quirking an eyebrow.

'Wouldn't dream of it,' he says, the phrase ending in a gasp as I roll my hips, rubbing our erections together. 'Nope, not complaining at all…'

I throw my head back and laugh, feeling exhilarated as I start rocking into him, first slow, but quickly picking up the pace. Bloody hell this feels amazing, the bristle of thin hairs against my inner thighs, the coarseness of scrunched up denim against my arse, the heat and friction of his cock sliding up against mine…

'Sy… God yes, just like that… I… Please… Yes, please, just…' he rambles.

His hands are on my arse now, gripping me tight, pulling us even closer. I press my chest against his, we're so close now that it's hard to keep moving. But it doesn't matter because it's so good, so good…

He's holding onto me so harshly that I think it might leave bruises, but I don't care. He meets my hips thrust for thrust, the movements becoming almost erratic for the briefest of moments. Then it's all about need and now and fast and suddenly we're moving at an incredible pace that makes my muscles ache. But I can't stop, can't, just have to, have to…

'So close,' I pant, repeating it several times before I arch my spine and come hard, crying out his name as my body convulses.

I'm shaking, burying my face in his neck while holding onto him for dear life as Christian keeps rocking into me. His movements are frantic and I know he's close. I look up, wanting to see him come undone and then I rake my blunt fingernails down his flank. He whimpers, closing his eyes for a second before they fly open again and his orgasm rips through his body. He cries out, like he always does, the cry ending in a sigh that becomes my name.

'Sy…'

'Yes,' I whisper back to him.

His eyes slowly come back into focus as his breathing calms down. Not able to resist, I lean in and press a soft kiss against his smiling lips. I lean back and admire the sight he makes. My beautiful, strong, gorgeous man, still half dressed, looking completely debauched. His skin is slightly flushed and shines with a mixture of sweat and traces of glitter, the evidence of our recent climax coating his taut belly. He leans back in a lazy cat-like pose, never shy to let me admire him in all his glory. And I do.

'You're amazing, do you know that?' I ask.

'We're amazing,' he corrects me, looking smug.

I smile and lean in for another kiss. The kiss is soft and lingering, tongues twirling lazily around each other like we have all the time in the world, only ending when the need for oxygen absolutely demands it. I sigh happily as he wraps me in his arms and holds me tight.

'Yes,' I agree, pressing a kiss in the crook of his neck while gently stroking his hair. 'We are'.

~s~c~

Cookie-Crumble, I wish you and the whole WFCTGIO a Merry Christmas and a very happy Chryed New Year!

AlpineRidge, thank you so much for organising this. Brilliant idea!