Yes, yes. The opening paragraphs are based loosely on that Tumblr post about how misunderstood the grinch is, which then launches into a whole Spiel about how he and Tony the Tiger are inseparable boyfriends. Don't judge me, quarantine doesn't have me feeling very Christmasy and this was the best idea I could muster up!
It was a rather magical Christmas Eve in the cold, snow clad city of Chicago. Around 10 o'clock at night, to be exact.
The snow was falling steadily, blanketing everything outside in a thick coat of cold, white bullshit.
Santa Claus was out earning his year giving millions of privileged kids presents made from 100% real slave labor. Skipping over the poor kids' houses, as always.
John Carter had just been dumped by the 183,814,194th woman in his life, yet another one who'd realized what an insufferable little fuckboy he is.
And our favorite little surgical hero, Robert Romano, was home for the holidays after a night of demanding, exhausting labor in the OR.
Well, not in his home, but still, he was home for the holidays. Just as long as he was with him.
"I always thought The Grinch was a misunderstood guy." The strange bald man noted absently from his spot on Peter's couch, before taking a nice long sip of his boozy eggnog. The taller man beside him laughed.
"The Grinch? I thought we were watching A Christmas Carol!" Peter wondered aloud, taking a sip of his own festive drink, setting it down on the coffee table before him. He then sat back on the couch, wrapping an arm around Robert, pulling him closer. Peter rest his head against Robert's incredibly bald one, taking the hand that wasn't clutching a mug in his own.
Robert leaned his head against Peter's shoulder, gazing at the television as he continued.
"I know what we're watching, smart ass!" He yapped. "I meant that hairy green guy from the other special, the one that hates those villagers because of how much they love the holidays. Hell, they even strung together enough lyrics to cover 2 minutes and 58 seconds of screen time, all of which dragged his ass through the dirt! Damn thing's a household melody, Peter."
"And you've got this information rattling around in that pea-sized brain of yours why?" Peter mocked, giving him a look.
"All I'm saying is that I'd be pretty bitter about the holidays too if I was exiled to some cave in the mountains, only to be woken up by singing children 2 or 3 hours before I actually wanna wake up in the morning!" Robert explained to the man, before sipping some more of the rum-filled beverage, which at this time of night had probably gone straight to his head. "Not even to mention the fact that he's known to millions upon millions of Americans as a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce."
"You're only sympathetic of him because he hates people and their holiday spirit and so do you!" Peter pointed out, forgetting completely about Ebenezer Scrooge and his bullshit.
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But even so, those damned who's shoulda kept their gross displays of holiday joy at a minimum. Or at least quit their incessant singing every once and a while!" He scowled at Peter as he laughed at his hatred towards the animated beings.
"Aww. You sound just like him, Robbie." Peter slurred, wrapping both arms around 'Robbie', pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "You're my own little Grinch!"
Robert's scowl deepened. "For the millionth time, Petey, what did I say about calling me little?" He growled as Peter cuddled him drunkenly, nuzzling the little bit of silky auburn hair that remained on the side of his bald head. "If you continue to emasculate me like this, I swear to God, you'll be kissing this ass goodbye!"
"Oh, come on! Don't be like that, Mr. Grinch!" Peter whined, squeezing him tighter, despite the fact that the man looked about ready to douse him in any of the hot liquid left in his mug.
"Besides," Peter started again, his voice dropping down low, down to Robert's favorite tone. "I know you couldn't go one week without me laying your pipe until you can barely sit." He purred in his ear, each word murmured softly against his sideburn. Robert shivered against him, his eyes closing briefly at the sensation trickling down his spine.
Peter moved one hand to Romano's chin then, gently tilting his face to meet his own. Their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss, as the Ghost of Christmas Future made his way onscreen to inform Scrooge of his dismal fate.
Robert haphazardly placed his mug down on the coffee table as the kiss intensified, and he opened his mouth entirely to the man, tasting the sweet notes of eggnog and rich aged rum on him. He savored it, brushing Peter's tongue with his own, letting the man push him back against the couch so that he lay with Peter straddling his hips. The kiss broke when the two were within an inch of suffocation.
"That sweater..." Peter panted, gazing down at the soft red sweater the man wore, tracing the little Christmas tree that was planted in the center of it with his index finger. "It would look better on the floor."
Robert chuckled breathlessly, toying with the tie Benton wore, which was printed with little reindeer. "I could say the same for yourself."
The taller surgeon crashed his lips against Romano's once more, causing him to moan, writhing as Peter's hands slipped underneath his Christmas sweater and ran up and down his sides. Peter pressed his knee between the shorter man's legs, quickly turning his holiday giddiness into excitement, which pooled in his stomach as the taller man's tongue caressed his own.
"With all due respect, Dr. Romano..." Peter rasped that tired old formality to his lover yet again, observing his panting form with hunger in those dark brown eyes of his. There was something rising in his slacks already from the evening's activities, and it sure as hell wasn't Jesus. "I think we should go somewhere more comfortable. We've still got plenty of time till Reese wants us to help him open presents, and even more time before the family comes over."
"But Peter, I didn't get to finish my eggnog!" Romano feigned disappointment as Peter helped him up from his spot on the couch, already set to drag the man to his bedroom and fill him with some eggnog of his own.
"Fuck your eggnog." Peter said lowly, his eyes still showing just how badly he wanted his boss on that cold Christmas night. "I've got plans to make something on my Mr. Grinch grow three sizes tonight. And that something is definitely not his heart."
And with that, they clambered up to Peter's bedroom, barely making it up 3 stairs before they were on each other again, kissing passionately as they blindly made their way to the taller surgeons door.
And poor old Tiny Tim had to preach his famous lines to nobody back in that living room, as our two heroes busied themselves with each other's company, dragging one another to that blissful state yet again.
to be continued...
The Tumblr post in question, of course: post/610876121380241408/wouldntyoulichentoknow-randomslasher
Along with this other one that I personally thought was relevant to this fic: post/180273752098/the-grinch-after-i-make-him-cum-8-times
Stay tuned :)
