When Ryan came home from school on that last Friday before Chrismukkah vacation (Seth had him trained to say that instead of Winter Break, the way they've been taught is 'correct',) Seth was curled up with a blanket in front of the Playstation, looking for all the world like a six year old.

The couch behind him was laden with the paraphernalia of one who had been home sick for too long. Rosa was on her own break, and Kirsten was at work, so Robitussin bottles, Vicks Vapor Rub, and empty ice cream bowls littered the scene. He'd missed almost a week's worth of classes, a bout with Strep Throat taking a lot out of him.

Head bent over something in his lap, Ryan could see blue-black hair just starting to grow back into curls. He was glad. He missed watching Seth's hair follow Seth around like springs. Ryan held back his urge to ruffle it. Seth might be cute, loyal and extremely affectionate, but he wasn't a puppy.

When Seth turned and looked up at Ryan, though, the canine analogy became even more apt. Seth was clearly still sick as a dog. Dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, greenish complexion, and a handful of crumpled Kleenex in his fist, made him look like hell. Instead of turning him off, the way it should, it just made Ryan feel protective and tender towards Seth.

"You know, if you didn't remind me so much of the Grinch, I'd kiss you," he told Seth, sitting down next to him, and handing him a packet of papers. "Here, I brought your homework."

"Dude, bringing me homework on the day before vacation? That's the work of someone whose heart is three sizes too small." The petulant look Seth gave Ryan was adorable. At another time, it would have annoyed Ryan, but it was the holidays, so he was happy, and therefore inclined to be forgiving of Seth's little idiosyncrasies. "You could have 'forgotten' and I'd be home free 'til January."

"Seth, you know you're going to have to make up the finals you missed. Face it, this is going to be a working vacation."

"For both of us, though, right? A little trigonometry, a little anatomy…" Seth leered at Ryan, making him laugh.

"I don't know, Seth. You wouldn't want me to get sick like you, would you? I figured I'd just call Lyndsay, and see if she wanted to study together." He ducked before Seth could hit him.

"Asshole. But I know you're kidding. You wouldn't leave me to study all by myself. Anyway, the doctor said I wasn't contagious anymore. I'm almost as good as new."

"Really?" Ryan hadn't heard that yet. Taking Seth's word for it, he gave in to his desires, and pulled Seth close for a kiss. Mostly chaste, he could feel Seth's labored breathing when he kissed Ryan back, and knew Seth wasn't up for anything more. "Yeah, Seth. You seem just fine."

" Don't roll your eyes at me like that. So maybe I'm not quite good as new, but I'm a lot better. Mom took me this morning. Once you've been on antibiotics for a few days, you can't pass Strep on to anyone. You're right. I still feel like crap, though." Seth reached into the cardboard box he held, bringing out something that glinted in the sunlight.

"I can tell. Sorry. So what's that for? Are you playing pirate again?" Ryan looked at the fake gold coins Seth held, collected in yellow mesh bags.

"Oh Ryan, how much you have to learn about your adopted culture. This isn't pirate booty; it's Hanukah Gelt. It's the spoils of years of Dreidel playing."

"That's the weird little top with the funny letters, right?" Ryan knew what it was; he just liked yanking Seth's chain.

"Hebrew, dude. The language of my people." Ryan could see the implied quotes. "They spell out A Great Miracle Happened There." Seth explained the game to him again, as well as the story behind the holiday. "… And if you land on this letter, you get all the candy. Wanna play?"

Ryan considered it a moment. Stale chocolate didn't hold much appeal for him, but he was a good sport. "You're the one with the sweet tooth. Do we have to play for chocolate?"

"Some people play for peanuts. The Newpsies use real money. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we could, you know, play for favors." Ryan grinned at Seth. "Make things a little more personal. Of course, if you're not interested…"

"I'm interested! I'm interested!"

"Good. Now, we need to lay out some ground rules. And of course I won't have to collect my winnings today. You'll just owe me when you feel better. Maybe this will give you incentive to actually get some rest, and not stay up playing Sims 2."

"Hey, my 'Summer' and 'Zach' broke up. She'll be mine soon." Seth didn't pine too much for the real girl, at least not out loud, but he'd sublimated his feelings for her into a virtual one. Sim-Summer, or Simmer, as Ryan jokingly called her, was still an obsession.

"You know, it's kind of weird, turning your friends and neighbors into video-game characters. Has Sim Marissa eaten yet?"

"Nope. Going on a week now. She won't last long."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that." For some reason, Ryan couldn't help but feel sorry even for a pretend Marissa.

"So tell me about the ground rules. Are we just playing for sexual favors? Or stuff like 'Ryan has to organize Seth's comic collection'?"

"Seth, your comics couldn't be more organized if you worked at that store you like."

"You know what I meant."

"Well, if you want to play for boring stuff like that, then I guess you can. I was thinking blowjobs and Ryan/Seth time would be more fun. And since I'm going to win the most…"

"I hate to break it to you, dude, but with Seth/Ryan time, we both win."

"I'm counting on that." Ryan didn't bother correcting Seth's terminology. Ryan/Seth time was Seth/Ryan time. Seth could call it whatever he wanted. And Ryan didn't care who won the silly game. Pitching. Catching. It was all good.

"Tell you what," Ryan said, sweeping Seth's trash off the sofa, and patting it. "Why don't you go to sleep for an hour or two, and when you wake up, we can play." He laid the soft flannel over Seth as he settled onto the couch again.

"Sounds good, Ryan. I guess I am tired…" Seth was already drifting off.

But not so far off that he didn't grin when Ryan said, "and maybe we can see if our oil will last for eight days, too."

If Ryan had anything to say about it, it was going to be a very happy Chrismukkah.