Chase Young shook his head as he stared up at the sight on the roof of the Spicer Estate. His skin haloed by the few Christmas lights he'd hung earlier and the full moon, Jack lay dozing in the snow upon the roof. His red hair glowed like a soft fire against the powdery crystals. His black, winter trench coat crawled over his slim body like a dark shadow, the trailing back a stark contrast to the white wonderland.
"Spicer," the warlord called. The young Goth didn't stir from his dreams, the only response being a small twitch from his fingers.
"Spicer!" he growled louder. The boy was still silent as ever, except for a tiny grunt muffled by his scarlet scarf.
"SPICER!" the dragon roared, automatically jolting the youth awake. The teen shot up instantly, slipped on a patch of ice, and fell off the roof; screaming all the way down the two and a half story fall. Chase darted forward to catch the unfortunate genius as he plummeted, Jack landing with a loud 'whump' in the martial artist's arms.
The Goth fanboy blushed and grinned sheepishly, "Ho ho ho...?"
"Spicer, you have got to be the first person in the history of forever to fall asleep putting up Christmas lights."
"Whaaaaaaat?" he whined childishly. "They were preeeeetty!"
"I'm surprised that you didn't get frostbite," Chase commented dryly; a telling smirk saying otherwise.
Jack already pink cheeks advanced to a color similar to that of his hair.
"Come; let's get you inside. You still must be freezing at the very least from sleeping in the snow."
Jack eagerly grabbed the hand that Chase offered to him, moaning softly at how wondrously warm it felt on his own chilled hands, and followed him inside. The Goth normally would've welcomed his idol in and asked him to make himself at home, but it seemed that the dragon was already doing so.
Chase wasted no time lighting the fire in the fireplace and rummaging through his house in search of blankets and hot cocoa. The pale teen stood there, his eyes idly following the elegant man as he meandered through the estate.
When the Chinese man came back, two cups of hot chocolate in his hands and a quilt draped over his shoulders, he sighed. Jack was sitting on the stone hearth, his back less than a foot away from the beckoning flames and his eyes half-lidded pleasurably as the harsh warmth seeped into his cold body.
"Spicer?" the warlord inquired quizzically, one eyebrow arched. The crimson-eyed teen gazed up at him in that dazed, blissful look; a dopey satisfied grin on his face.
"Your coat is on fire."
The pale youth's eyes flew open in alarm; tearing the jacket off his body, throwing it to the ground, and furiously stomping out the embers. The warlord tittered at the boy and handed him his mug as he sat down beside him; slightly farther away from the flames, though.
"You're such a klutz," he laughed. The pale genius blushed slightly. He hadn't ever heard Chase laugh like that before. It was a carefree, happy laugh; the polar opposite of the calm, icy indifference that normally cloaked Chase's features.
The Goth teen's eyes grew heavier as warmth washed through his body. The half-empty mug of hot chocolate began to tip dangerously towards the floor as Jack slumped drowsily. It was only when the ceramic cup lolled from the youth's hands and crashed on the floor did the dragon lord notice.
He sighed softly as he glanced from Jack's face, peaceful and tranquil with sleep, to the scalding, brown liquid pooling like blood onto the dark, mahogany floor. Moving carefully, so as not to wake the dozing, pale boy, he scooped him up in his arms; a subtle smile on his lips as the head dropped back limply, a few of the fiery locks shifting to feather lightly across his right eye.
The overlord didn't even bother to turn on the light as he walked into Jack's room, using the moonlight streaming in from the large window to illuminate the hazardous junk strewn about the teen's room. He took note of the numerous piles of crumpled blueprints, notes, and homework covering his desk, as well as the humongous mountains of dirty clothes everywhere. His golden eyes then flicked to the footboard, and a stifled giggle escaped his lips as he eyed the angry doodle of one of Jack's rivals at school.
Getting back to the main task, Chase gently lowered the pale genius to the ruffled covers; idealistically ornamented with red clouds, skulls, and just about anything else with a 'dark' reputation. Jack's eyes opened a little as the covers were pulled over his shoulders, and Chase sat on the edge of the bed beside him. The boy's eyes closed again, giving the impression of sleep as the dragon warrior gazed at him. He felt those strong, elegant fingers thread through his hair-petting him- and he had to use all of will to suppress the surprised squeak that nearly escaped him. The hand swirled through the strands a final time before being replaced by a small area of warmth on his forehead, leaving with a heated gust of air and the small part of his temple faintly damp, which the teen recognized belatedly, as a kiss. Jack heard/felt the push of breath that he barely made out as, "Good night, Spicer".
The weight shifted, and a sense of panic rose up deep from within the sleepy youth. Chase was going to leave! His hand searched around for the familiar warmth, and his eyes opened just a crack as his digits curled around the warrior's large hand. The overlord's head turned and a faint grin teased his lips at the sight of those large, crimson eyes and the undeniable pleading pout that masked Jack's face.
"Please don't go," the youth whispered, his hand squeezing tighter around Chase's fingers. It was a rather strong grip, considering how close the genius was to falling sleep.
"Why not?" Chase smirked delicately. "Are you afraid that if I leave now, I'll never come back?"
Jack simply nodded, too tired to lie or make up some lame excuse. He was too tired to think.
"You rarely ever come to visit me, and whenever I come to visit you, you always turn me away," the Goth murmured quietly. "How will I know if you'll ever do this again?"
Chase moved a stray wisp of hair away from the boy's eyes again before answering, "I will do this again. And I have for a long time. Have you not noticed that since we have met, that I have always been somewhere close by? I will continue to be nearby; as long as you promise to not to kill yourself by falling off the roof, or electrocuting yourself with the Christmas lights."
Jack tittered hazily before nodding. Chase smiled and got up to leave when he felt a small warmth at the small of his back. Turning around, Jack's fingers were lazily splayed against the small of his back, but being careful not to slip farther down.
"Will you be here for Christmas?" the youth mumbled, his eyes drooping a little in their shorn of sleep.
"Christmas Morning or Christmas Eve?"
Jack gave a tiny shrug.
Chase brushed his fingertips over the youth's temple, and the last thing the pale Goth heard before sleep washed over him was: "I'll be here for both." Jack then gave the biggest smile he could muster with his sleep-numbed body, and slipped into the comforting blackness of rest.
~~~~~The End~~~~~