Title: That Time of Year
Pairing: Homos
Rating: PG
It was that time of year again, and Chuck was dreading that fact just as he did every other time 'that time of year' rolled around. He hated Christmas, and he hated having Christmas with whats-her-face and that kid, and did he mention he hated Christmas? Yes, he believes he did.
She always made a ham for their Christmas dinner. Chuck liked ham, it was food after all, but who the hell made ham for Christmas dinner? Most normal people, who were not Clarence... no... Christy? Cath? Cate? Who knows. Most people who were not that lady he was married to made turkey. Or at least chicken. He loved chicken.
Geoffrey always made chicken. Or rather, he bought some of that rotisserie chicken from the grocery store. Chuck could never sit down and eat dinner with him, of course, he was happily married to his wife who he was married to. Once she was asleep he liked to sneak out of her house and go to Geoffrey's frigde to devour the delicious, ambrosial chicken inside. Sometimes he would get caught and Geoffrey would yell at him about the dangers of eating cold meat ('You could get salmonella, or ecoli, or... herpes, Chuck!'), but other times he would slide into Geoffrey's bed, chicken leg in hand, and go to sleep. Which was perfectly okay because he was tired, and tired trumps married any day. Or night, as it were.
Back to the 'hating Christmas'. Chuck also hated Christmas because he always got ridiculously ugly sweaters that he had to return the next day. This caused tears from the wife, and tears from Geoffrey, and maybe even some tears from him, so it was an unpleasant affair all around. He usually ended up keeping the sweaters and even wearing them.
So yes, Chuck hated Christmas, and ugly sweaters, and that goddamn honey-baked ham. But he loved the rotisserie chicken, herpes or not, so he guessed it was sort of okay.