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“Baby, is this a reasonable thing to do today?”
Azriel sighed a deep sigh and added, for emphasis, “Solstice Eve? Really?”
He looked outside and sighed again. Thick, dark clouds enveloped the tops of the buildings, and snowflakes swirled—but not the cute snowflakes of Solstice cards, but the wet and sloppy ones, the ones that plopped like tiny toads on the pavement and stuck to cars and people’s lashes and hats.
“It’s going to be an in-and-out,” Elain called out from upstairs.
He hummed to himself, knowing that it wouldn’t be. But there was no reasoning with females who were in the throws of an IKEA-based fantasy of meatballs and nifty gadgets.
But he tried yet again, “Baby, do you know how busy it will be today? All the stragglers? Last minute shoppers grabbing anything and everything they can get their hands on?”
Elain descended the industrial stairs of their massive loft, just as she threaded an earring into her ear.
“All I need are cinnamon buns and meatballs and just a few other things. Like those sandwich bags that come in different sizes in one box. They are so cool!”
He cocked his brow and asked, “We are going all the way to IKEA just for cinnamon buns and sandwich bags?”
“And meatballs!”
“Laney, aren’t you a baker?” he reminded her, as he went to put on his jacket, knowing that arguing was futile and he’d have to comply. And drive out of NYC to the suburbs to gods-blasted IKEA. Not that he didn’t appreciate the cutesy designs and the thoughtful approach to space-saving and utilization of various materials—the designer in him rejoiced—but did all that justify driving there in the snow? Not really.
He held her jacket for her, and she turned around and cupped his face between her hands.
“Thank you. I love you so much. You are the best, but if you don’t want to go, you don’t,”
“No, I don’t really want you driving through the city, in this weather,” he cut her off. Ever the worrier, he probably only rivalled Rhys in his concern and over-protectiveness. Yes, she could drive in this weather, but he competed a defensive-driving course and qualified for Formula 1 racecourse a few years back. He was a professional driver.
“But,” he attempted one last time, “as a baker…don’t you want to stay in, in our gigantic, very comfortable and cozy kitchen. The fireplace is on in the living room. You can drink wine, while you are making dough. We can make out, while we are waiting for it to rise. And then the house is filled with delicious smells of cinnamon and yeast,”
Elain stopped buttoning her coat and roller her eyes, “No! That’s not fair,” she almost stomped her foot. “You can’t go full-poet on me, and entice me with staying in, baking and making out by the fireplace,”
“We can take it beyond just making out,” he proposed quickly. Grinning. “I can spend an hour licking your pussy by the Tree there,”
She smacked him lightly on the lips and shook her head, groaning, “How can you be so poetic and so gross at the same time?”
“I take it from both of my idiot brothers. Rhys is poetic,” he wrapped her scarf around her neck, “Cass is gross. I am a tasty combination of both.”
She looked up at him and batted her lashes slightly, slowly biting her lower lip. He tracked the movement closely, and then leaned in and brushed that lip with the tip of his tongue.
“I have an idea,” she murmured breathlessly in his ear, kissing the shell of it as she whispered, “as a thank-you gift, after we come home, I will spend as long as you’d like me to on my knees, in front of that beautiful tree of ours.”
“Hmmm,” he hissed. “That’s unfair, baby. Why do we need to go to IKEA? When we can just get you on your knees right here, right away…and see what comes of it,”
She bit his earlobe sharply and laughed.
“You’ll have all this time to think of ways to keep my on my knees. Thank about it,”
“I am already thinking,” he said readily, squeezing her breast through the jacket and the hoodie that she was wearing. “And I have so many ideas.”
“I can’t wait,” she beamed and then grabbed his scarred hand and pulled him after her.
A part of Azriel couldn’t blame Elain for wanting to get a bit of help.
Tomorrow, they were hosting their first Solstice Brunch, for everyone. This was their first Solstice as a couple, and while Rhys and Feyre usually hosted the extravagant brunch annually, this year, Elain stepped in and proposed that they alternate between all the couples. The suggestion was greeted with enthusiastic agreement and so it was settled. However, once Azriel began going over the invitation list, she frowned,
“I didn’t realize that it would be so many people.”
“Yeah, love, that’s why Rhys has an army of caterers preparing for this shindig.”
Elain kneeled on the bed and protested, “But I don’t want a caterer. I want to do it myself,”
“It’s a lot,” he reasoned.
And he was correct.
She was terribly busy with her flower shop and her bakery the entire month, and suddenly, Solstice was upon them. And nothing was ready, other than the crates of prosecco and champagne that were delivered the other week to the loft. In addition, there were gallons of orange and cranberry juice chilling on the patio, and bottles of vodka and tequila, and everything that was needed for good and spicy Bloody Marys.
“I have an idea,” Elain proposed. They were decorating their lush Solstice Tree and so far, it was turning out beautifully. What Azriel didn’t mind was that Elain was absolutely naked, other than a pair of heels. She had lost a bet. A bet that she should’ve won, and he thought that perhaps, just perhaps, she lost it on purpose. So she could decorate the tree in the nude, taunting him with her delicious pink nipples, her lush ass, the pale, toned belly and…gods, she was pretty and pink everywhere.
“And what is this idea?” he handed her a glittering silver ball and she hung it on a branch, stepping back and admiring their work. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her body, cupping her breasts and brushing his thumbs over the nipples.
“We make a Swedish Solstice,” she announced, melting into his embrace, purring softly against his bicep, watching his long fingers pinch and roll the swollen tips of her breasts.
“None of us are Swedish, baby,” he reminded her casually, kissing her hair. “I am about as closely related to Swedes as I am to a panda,”
“Mmm, my panda,” she groaned, slipping her hand into his jeans.
She had spent quite a long time on her knees in front of that tree that evening.
Now, they were on their way to IKEA, to buy bags of meatballs, packets of sauce, trays of cinnamon buns, jars of lingonberry jam, strange, hard Swedish breads that looked and tasted like dirt, and whatever else was on Elain’s long list. Azriel had to admit that it wasn’t a bad idea—he’s never met a person who didn’t like those meatballs, it was quick and easy to prepare, and all they needed to do was roast a few trays of potatoes with butter and dill, steam some salmon for the fish-eaters and they’d be done. However, it still sucked that they were driving all the way there today, and the snow was falling with increasing determination.
It took an hour to finally leave the city, and 1.5 hrs. to arrive to the store. The parking lot was full—not surprising—and inside was moderately busy.
And then, they got sucked in.
Azriel was hauling the huge yellow bag, before switching to a cart, because there was suddenly need for sets of mixing bowls, napkins, long, contemplative stares at festive gnomes of every kind, and questions about sparkling trees and tinsel, and decisions about how many bags of meatballs would be needed?
“I’d say count on half a bag per man,” Azriel recommended, consulting the guest list again.
“What?!” she cried. “Half a bag?!”
“Honey, between Cass, Lorcan and Fenrys alone, what do you think?”
“But,”
“But we should buy six-seven dozens of eggs and make a huge pan of scrambled eggs and that’s going to be a lot cheaper,”
She chewed her lip and nodded. He made sense.
At last, they were done, and after standing in line for close to 40 minutes they exited the store—only to be met with blowing snow, howling wind gusts that threatened to topple lamp posts and just about zero visibility.
Bundled in her scarf and hat, Elain looked around helplessly. The parking lot turned into a snowy kingdom, with cars buried under a blanket of snow, and none of the roads ploughed.
“Oh gods,” she whimpered.
“Well, this blows,” he grunted, nestling deeper into the collar of his jacket.
“We can’t get out!”
“Nope.”
He popped his lips, looking around, deciding on the course of action.
He sensed Elain’s guilt emanating from her, and the worried looks that she threw at him, expecting him to get angry with her. And it would probably be warranted, annoyance and anger, but Azriel had spent too much of his life being angry, with his head flooded with icy rage that no one could ever thaw, until Elain came into his life. And if this debacle was going to be the greatest of their worries, then so be it.
“Go back inside the store,” he ordered.
“What?”
“I am going to throw all this shit in the trunk, so it stays frozen.”
“And?
“And then we’ll see what happens.”
Ladies and gentlemen, the New York State Weather Department has announced that we are under a blizzard warning until tomorrow at 8 am. The entire metropolitan area of New York is under a winter storm advisory…
The announcement came over the loudspeaker inside the store.
There were groans and a lot of ‘fuck!’ flying around.
Azriel was laughing softly.
“What’s so funny?” she hissed under her breath.
“I always wanted to be lost in a big department store, when I was a boy—and have a go at it overnight. Do whatever I wanted,” he admitted, pulling her closer to himself.
Ladies and gentlemen, you are welcome to make yourself comfortable inside our store. Please be respectful and mindful of your fellow stranded shoppers. We will be opening the cafeteria for our impromptu Solstice dinner at seven o’clock. We hope you join us then!
The snow fell thick and steady outside.
“I don’t think we’ll be going home, sweetheart,” Azriel said good-naturedly, making himself comfortable on one of the sofas and having Elain nestle next to him.
“I don’t think so.” She agreed. They had removed their jackets and hats and stuffed them all in a bag and made themselves at home.
She stroked his cheek and asked softly, “Are you mad?”
“Mad?” he laughed, kissing the top of her head, “I think that this is fucking awesome!”
“Weirdo,” she chuckled and brough his hand to her lips, “I love you, you know?”
“I know, and I love you too.”
“But what are we going to do with $300 bucks worth of meatballs and jam?” she lamented.
“The invite isn’t until 11 am tomorrow, so we might very well make it in time and prepare. And Cass can be in charge of drinks. If everyone is well-libated, no one will care if we are late.”
At 7:08pm, Elain and Azriel were seated at a little plastic table for two, plates of meatballs, creamy sauce, blobs of red jelly and three boiled potatoes in front of them. For a special festive touch, bottles of pear and apple cider were popped. Solstice music was blaring, and the lights were dimmed a bit, for a more intimate atmosphere.
“Happy Solstice, my love,” Azriel raised his glass to her.
“Happy Solstice, Az,” she smiled at him. “This is the best Solstice of my life.”
They clinked their glassed and drank their pear cider.
“It’s not bad,” he decided, smacking his lips. “And it’s the best Solstice of my life as well, Elain. All because of you,”
“Home, is where I am with you,” she murmured and a lone tear of happiness ran down her cheek.
“Let’s go and find us one of those fake Swedish apartments,” Azriel proposed, “and sleep there,”
They grabbed their trays and the two plates with cake, which they saved for later.
He winked at the bottle of cider, and said, “Grab that too…We can have some fun with that!”
They found a one room ‘model apartment’, which had an actual bed, and not a bunkbed, and settled in for the night under the plush duvets.
“It’s all good and it all works,” Azriel reflected, looking around at their new ‘apartment’, which they dubbed ‘Sven’s Home’, “but how do you bring a date to an apartment with a bunkbed?”
Elain was laughing.
Around them, people were settling in as well, and the lucky ones also got their own ‘apartments’. Otherwise, it was a free-for-all on sofas, beds, chairs and beanbags. Kids were squealing with delight, loving the adventure.
“This is actually kind of awesome,” Elain decided, crossing her legs and feeding him his piece of cake.
The next morning, the snow had stopped falling and the roads were passable.
Stuffed full of bacon, eggs, cinnamon buns and coffee bright and early in the morning, courtesy of IKEA’s cafeteria, Elain and Azriel made it back to the city just in time to set the tables and start preparing the food.
“Happy birthday, Fey!”
In the midst of the festivities, Azriel found Elain and put his arms around her, kissing her brow.
“Happy Solstice. We made it home. As promised.”
She looked around their vast loft, at their friends and family who were laughing and playing and eating and drinking and smiled with satisfaction, “It’s a very nice Solstice Brunch, if I may say so myself.”
“It is. But don’t think that I forgot about my little reward,” he winked.
“In front of the tree. On my knees. For as long as you want,” she promised.