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Theo swears that when he took over as unofficial puppy pack mom, he did not sign up for glitter in his lungs, off-key Christmas carols from his back seat, or this disgusting display of affection from everyone over Secret Santa.
And yet here he is, three hours into this tortuous day and already regretting having coming back from hell, as he escapes Mason and Corey’s clutches and their penchant for hanging up tinsel (who would’ve thought that a self-proclaimed classy pinterest enthusiast like Mason would have zero control with all things sparkly) and heads toward the McCall house to pick up the tiny terror that is Alec on his way to Liam’s. Mason and Corey also requested (read: assumed) that Theo pick them up again when he doubles back, because they apparently have ‘some other business’ to attend to before the Secret Santa gathering, and Theo’s not about to pry into that lovely euphemism any time soon. He just hopes they get their horny scent under control by the time they hop into his back seat.
“Back seat for you,” Theo greets Alec, thumbs drumming against his steering wheel, as the younger werewolf slips into the passenger seat without an ounce of shame.
“That’s for the lovebirds,” says Alec. “I’m single and I say dibs on the front seat.”
Theo’s knuckles ache with the pressure of his grip on the wheel as he barely refrains from snapping, no, Liam called dibs on that seat first, but he’s not looking to give the brat any more fodder to torture him with for the evening. Or the rest of eternity, for that matter.
“If I let you sit up here,” Theo tries again (oh, who is he kidding, he doesn’t let the kid do anything—the kid does shit and Theo helplessly gripes from the sidelines), “you are not singing Christmas carols.”
“But—”
“Nope.”
“I’ve been—”
“Not a single one.”
“Dashing through the snow,” Alec recites, “on a one-horse open sleigh…”
Theo gives him a flat look, then stomps on the gas so they lurch forward and Alec’s propped-up knees collide with the dashboard. “Yeah, we’re dashing through the snow, all right,” says Theo snidely over Alec’s yelp.
“O’er the fields we go—laughing all the way,” Alec warbles on bravely.
Theo hangs a sudden right and grins in dark satisfaction as Alec’s vibrato trails off into a scream.
“You’re paying for my hospital bills, Raeken!”
“Don’t got insurance, buddy,” Theo drawls.
Thirty minutes of last-minute grocery shopping with Alec later—which in all honesty could be better described as Theo zipping through the aisles of the convenience store with a haunted look in his eyes as Alec trailed after him, testing out his lung capacity with his very unique rendition of “Twelve Days of Christmas”—Theo and Alec are finally piling back into the truck, with Theo chucking one plastic bag after another into Alec’s lap and taking off from the parking lot like his life depends on it.
“Don’t you dare enable him,” Theo threatens Mason and Corey when the two finally stumble out of the house and shove themselves into the back seat.
“Enable who with what?” Corey asks.
“—Don we now our gay apparel, fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la!”
Mason points with a mittened hand at Alec losing it in the passenger seat. “Yeah. Gay apparel. He’s got the spirit.”
“You’re on thin fucking ice, Hewitt.”
Corey starts humming along, then thumbing through something on his phone and all of a sudden the cabin of the truck fills with the insufferable cheery beat of “Deck the Halls” and it’s chaos from there.
“I’m turning around and dropping you off at the stop sign by the pond,” Theo says. “All of you.”
“Have fun doing Secret Santa without all of us,” says Corey with a shrug.
“I’ll have Liam all to myself. Of course I’ll have fun,” says Theo, all saccharine in the rearview mirror.
Mason pauses his atrocious attempt at harmonizing with Alec’s fa-la-la-la to remind him, “You drop us off here, and Liam’s not getting his gift. You don’t wanna deal with a giftless Liam on Christmas.”
“And no, gift wrapping your naked body with a bow on top does not count as a make-up gift,” Corey cuts in.
“Ew,” says Alec, officially giving up on anyone helping him with the chorus. “That was a very specific image that I did not need to be force-fed just now.”
“Yeah, Corey,” says Theo snidely as they pull up to the curb outside the Dunbar-Geyer house. “That’s a very specific image. Sure wouldn’t have been inspired by real-life events, would it?”
“He pleads the fifth,” says Mason.
“I plead the fifth,” Corey agrees immediately, unlocking the truck door while it’s still running to scramble out.
Liam jogs down the front path to greet them. “You plead the fifth on what?”
“He’s not telling you. That’s the whole point of pleading the fifth,” Mason informs his best friend.
“They were talking about naked bodies,” Alec complains as he stomps up the path next. “Liam, save me.”
“Oh?” Liam curves up a brow and catches Theo’s eye over the top of Alec’s head as the chimera alights and locks up the truck. “Depends on whose naked body they were talking about.”
“Mine,” Theo cuts in smoothly, signature smirk in place as he approaches and falls into step with Liam and Alec walking toward the front door.
Liam smirks back. “Any particular reason you guys were talking about it without me there?”
“Ugh, trust me, you were involved in the conversation too,” Alec groans. “Please tell me you at least have eggnog to make this torture worthwhile.”
“You haven’t had your heart ripped out on a loop a hundred times,” Theo says serenely. “Don’t talk to me about torture.”
“Are you seriously playing the hell card again?” Mason hollers from the front porch.
—
Liam does not, in fact, have eggnog, an oversight that Theo predicted and compensated for by grabbing two small cartons from the convenience store while Alec was busy pinwheeling about behind him instead of helping him with the grocery list. Liam’s thankfully saved two tinfuls of Jenna and David’s super secret recipe of gingerbread men (which are more accurately an assortment of reindeer, snowmen, elf shoes, and lopsided men with stumpy legs because of the time that Liam dropped the mortar and pestle on top of the cookie cutters and squashed them when he was a child), which the puppy pack set to devouring the moment they gather on their piles of cushions in the living room.
“Is that apple cider?” Alec asks Theo as he very nosily sticks his nose in Theo’s glass. “Did you get that from the fridge? Can I have some?”
Theo sweeps the glass away from him. “Yes and yes. And no. Get your own.”
“I already have eggnog.”
“Should’ve paid attention to Liam’s menu when he was telling you about it before.”
“Oh, that? I thought he was yelling about mixing up sugar and salt again.”
“I literally didn’t cook a single thing this time,” Liam huffs in offense as he plops down between Theo and Mason. “I swear, Dad must’ve turned off half the kitchen circuit breakers before they left.”
Corey snickers over his eggnog, which sends the drink frothing over his mouth in a milk mustache, which then has Liam and Mason both snickering back at him.
“Okay, so who’s gonna start? Who hands out the presents?” Corey asks.
“I dunno, who’s the designated Santa?” says Mason.
“Not me,” Liam says quickly.
“He just doesn’t want to go first because he wants to compare everyone else’s presents first and then feel better about overthinking his,” Mason shares in a stage whisper.
“Dude,” Liam stage whispers back. “I’m so revoking your Netflix rights after this.”
“Doesn’t matter. Corey has his own,” Mason says sweetly.
“Um, I object to being part of your Netflix squabbles,” says Corey.
“Shouldn’t the oldest start handing out the presents?” Alec cuts in impatiently. “Like, isn’t that what the older pack does?”
Liam scoffs. “‘Older pack,’ right, okay. Most of them are only older than us by like, a year or so.”
“Yeah, but then if we don’t differentiate, then you wouldn’t be alpha of the puppy pack,” Corey points out.
“I’m not an alpha,” Liam protests.
“You commandeered my truck and manhandled everyone into seeing The Nutcracker last week,” Theo deadpans. “You’ve made yourself an alpha.”
“Wait, so what does that make Theo?” Alec pipes up, indicating the chimera with a waggle of his socked toes from the couch. “He’s the oldest. Why is he even here?”
“Being evil for a decade of your life stunts your growth.” Mason flips through one of Jenna’s Better Homes & Gardens magazines, unperturbed. “It happens.”
“You should hand out the presents, then,” Liam says, nudging Theo with an elbow. “You’re the oldest.”
Theo catches Liam’s prodding elbow with one hand and Alec’s wiggling toes with the other. “Stop it, both of you. You should hand them out, Liam. Since you’re the alpha.”
“Literally just went over this. I’m not an alpha.”
“Ohh-kay, I’ll hand out the presents, since I’m the one with the brain cell here, too,” says Mason with a gusty sigh. He rolls himself off his butt and walks forward on his knees to gather the pile of assorted packages on the far end of the living room, and shovels them toward the rug in the center with his arms. Corey gets up a moment later to help him sort through the gifts and read the name tags aloud.
“Theo,” Corey reads, and pitches the large-ish, rectangular thing in the chimera’s direction. Theo barely catches it between his knees as he’s downing another gulp of apple cider.
“Alec,” Mason calls out, and Alec makes grabby hands in his direction. A small box goes flying toward him. Alec catches it out of the air expertly. But then Mason reads out another, “Alec?” with an inquisitive lilt to his voice, and then, “Alec again,” and two more packages are pitched toward Alec in rapid succession.
“Someone sure is spoiling Alec,” Liam observes, tapping his chin. “I wonder who that could be. Hmm.”
Alec flushes and busies himself regaining his composure as he gathers up the three gifts of varying sizes in his lap.
“Ah, me,” Corey says to himself with a bright smile. He lays the present on the couch cushion behind him and pats it softly.
“Aaand…Mase, babe, here.” Corey hands out the last one to his boyfriend, who takes it and blows an exaggerated kiss in his direction.
“Before anyone argues about who opens what first, I’ll just call it: Liam, you go first,” says Mason.
“Oh, but I’m sure you guys have been—”
“Dude, shut the fuck up and open it, I can see your eyeballs vibrating with excitement.”
“Okay, fine,” Liam relents with a toothy grin.
“Sure twisted your arm there,” Theo remarks mildly.
Liam executes some kind of acrobatic move to untangle his legs and jab Theo in the ribs at the same time that he starts tearing into the neatly wrapped package in his lap. Theo swears loudly as the last of his apple cider drenches the front of his sweater in a cold splash, while Alec does nothing but provide a superfluous commentary on the last few seconds’ events.
“Oh my—” Liam’s aborted exclamation gives them all pauses. “Dude. Fucking—hell, Mase. Jesus. Did you—”
“Just me, but I’d like to think Jesus did give me some divine inspiration,” Mason quips.
Theo leans over to see exactly what the hell Liam is losing his (admittedly teenagerly) vocabulary over. It’s a box painted in cheery colors and an array of smiling cartoon animals and characters.
“Animal Crossing?!” Liam’s voice pitches up. “Dude, you know how hard I’ve been looking for this! And then you convinced me to ‘get off my butt’ and start doing outdoorsy things instead like mowing the fucking lawn—”
“Guilty as charged,” Mason says, evidently pleased with himself. “Look, I couldn’t have you buying it all over again when I’d already secretly ordered it for you.”
“You sneaky bastard.”
Mason steeples his hands upside down in a V under his chin and flutters his lashes. The next moment, he yelps as Liam launches himself at his best friend and tackles him to the rug in a bear hug.
“Ow—ow—okay—this is cool and all, but I don’t have werewolf strength,” Mason chokes out.
Theo helpfully hauls Liam backward by hooking a hand around the neckline of his sweater and yanking. Liam lands in a graceless heap against Theo’s shoulder, which—Theo doesn’t exactly mind, considering that Liam’s warmth now serves to counteract the uncomfortable cold wetness from the apple cider spill down the front of his own sweater.
“Okay, okay, Mason next, since Liam figured out it was you,” Alec urges Mase.
“Hm, I wonder what this could be,” Mason muses, shaking the rather book-shaped, book-weighted object in his hands.
“A banana,” Theo deadpans.
“Oh, my G-d,” Alec says with a roll of his eyes.
“Softballs,” Liam guesses.
“You’re just as bad as him,” Alec complains. “Horndogs, both of you.”
Mason tears the wrapper away to reveal a faux leather tome with silver foil lettering. “The Mythology of Indonesia—holy crap!” He glances up at Corey first. “Was it you?”
Corey nods bashfully. “I got another present for you later, but…this is the first one I thought of when I got your name from the bowl.”
“This is literally all I ever need. What the heck. Cor.” Mason runs his hands reverently over the cover, then splits open the pages and starts worshipping the silver edging, too. Finally he leans up from his position on the floor to plant a chaste kiss on Corey’s cheek. “Thanks, baby. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Corey murmurs. “I’ll show you the other one later.”
“Literally stop talking about second presents right now,” Alec tells them. “This is how we got to talking about naked bodies in the truck.”
“Oh?” says Liam, his interest renewed.
“Not talking about naked bodies again,” Alec says vehemently.
Theo grins sideways at Liam, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Or you could show me,” Liam whispers back. “I’m more a visual kind of guy.”
“La, la, la, la, I can’t hear you guys,” Alec says, sticking his fingers in his ears. “Corey! Open your present, please.”
Corey complies. His is an impressively wrapped squat cylinder, not unlike a hat box, which has everyone’s attention glued from the start as he begins untaping the wrapping paper. (Because, yes, try as they might to change him, Corey really is that guy who spends five minutes carefully unwrapping anything given to him instead of tearing into it like the rest of the heathens in the pack.) His efforts reveal what is indeed a vintage hat box, complete with floral fabric backing, which he opens to uncover a smaller cube-like box inside. That one opens up in turn to reveal a tiny rectangular box, and finally inside that one is a small, heavyweight gold envelope containing a gift card to Mamma Lulu’s Italian Restaurant.
“Really funny,” Corey says dryly, looking up at Alec, Theo and Liam across from him. “What an amazing sense of humor. Could be any of you three assholes, honestly.”
“Hey,” Theo says. “I’m the asshole. Liam’s the dick. Alec’s the shithead.”
Alec drops his head into his hands and begs of the air: “Please, good Lord, save me from this night of innuendos.”
“It was you, wasn’t it, Alec,” says Corey.
Alec nods into his knees. “Couldn’t think of anything creative enough.”
“Oh, trust me, what you did was plenty creative,” says Mason.
“I love it,” Corey tells Alec. “C’mon, let’s hug it out.”
“No,” Alec says, even as he walks over on his knees and hugs it out with Corey anyway.
“That’s so weird,” Liam whispers to Theo. “Isn’t that weird?”
“What, Alec getting hugs from somebody?”
“I get hugged by Melissa all the time, you jackass,” Alec says over his shoulder.
“No, I was referring to Alec being rewarded for being a little shit,” Liam clarifies.
“That’s not weird at all,” says Mason. “Theo does it to him all the time.”
“Shut up, no I don’t,” says Theo.
“Alec, time to open your present. Or should I say, presents,” says Liam. “G-d, I have no fucking clue who those might be from, at all.”
“You’re a dickbag,” Alec tells him cheerfully.
The first of Alec’s presents is a scarf and hat set with a gigantic snowman face appliqué on both pieces. He dons them immediately, the snowman face askew by his temple as his curls peek out under the brim. “You remembered,” is his happy comment to Theo.
“Hard not to, when all you do is complain about how cold your neck is during games,” Theo says.
“It is cold. You don’t know what it’s like to suffer outdoors with a uniquely long neck like mine.”
“Could always wring it and be done with it,” Theo suggests helpfully.
“It’s only 10:30,” says Mason. “Stop plotting murder.”
Liam takes a long drag of his eggnog. “Theo was literally a child soldier. What do you expect?”
Corey chokes on his drink. Alec, meanwhile, tears into his two other gifts. The second is a calculator—“So you stop fucking stealing mine, kid”—and the third is a pair of fuzzy spa socks, the kind with the round grips on the soles.
“He’s gonna be insufferable on my hardwood floors now,” Liam points out.
Alec is. He’s already pulling on the socks and tapping the plastic-y grips on the nearest floorboard with a challenging look in Liam’s direction, just to be a little shit.
“Those are such mom gifts,” Corey opines. “It’s official. Theo’s the pack mom.”
“No, I’m not.”
Alec gasps. “You are the pack mom.”
“Shut your trap.”
Liam pretends to lean back and give Theo a considering look. “You’re right. He’s got the martyr complex and the getaway truck and he’s always yelling at us about our shoes.”
“You were going to track blood into my fucking apartment,” Theo hisses.
“Still doesn’t make you not a mom.”
“I’m not showing you my present to you later,” Theo threatens Liam.
“...You’re a very cool mom?” Liam amends.
“Is that a euphemism?” says Alec. “Is this my life now? Do I have to ban you guys from saying ‘gift’ and ‘present’ aloud?”
“Package, too,” says Mason, playing along. “You gotta ban the word ‘package,’ too.”
Liam coughs into his elbow. “We talking small packages or big packages?”
“Stop bullying Alec,” says Theo. He whacks Liam on the shoulder with his own present, the last one still wrapped. He already has an idea of what it might be, but he likes to feign ignorance as he crinkles up the wrapping and dons an overly thoughtful face.
“Just open it,” Corey urges him. “Liam probably, like, gift wrapped one of his hoodies for you to sleep in.”
“Shut up. That was one time,” Liam mutters.
“The scent helps him fall asleep,” Mason says with a sage nod from across the living room.
Liam shoots him a half-hearted growl, only flashing a bit of gold in his eyes for dramatic effect more than anything. Mason feigns clutching at his heart and shaking his shoulders in fear, while Corey plays along and catches his boyfriend as he ‘swoons’ into his arms.
Theo finishes opening up the gift. Sure enough, it’s a…soft and cuddly something. He pushes away the paper to reveal a fluffy fleece blanket in the softest hue of baby blue.
Theo loves it. He’s speechless.
“He loves it,” Alec comments. “He’s speechless.”
Theo still doesn’t speak, just brings the blanket up to his face under the guise of giving it a critical inspection. It’s nobody’s business if he’s actually drawing a deep breath to inhale Liam’s unmistakable scent and bury his cheek in the terribly soft, soft texture of the fibers.
“Theo?” Liam says at last, his voice a tiny quiver of uncertainty.
“Read my chemosignals, you dumbass,” Theo mumbles into the blanket. “I love it.” And he tips over sideways into Liam’s lap, hands curled around the beta’s waist and face smooshed against the warm blanket between them, and remains content to stay there unmoving for the rest of their get-together.
—
The evening goes swimmingly from there, if by swimmingly one could mean full of their usual banter and chaos. It’s two hours later, having cleaned up the glasses and switched over to the shameless Mariah Carey playlist on the speakers, when Liam slides on his socks into the living room to rejoin the others. Mason and Corey are cuddled up on the loveseat, sorting a deck of cards, while Alec is sprawled on the rug with Theo cross-legged next to him in front of the fireplace. Without further ceremony, Liam flops down stomach-first on top of Alec and leans over to plant a kiss on Theo’s mouth with a loud smack.
“You guys,” is Alec’s muffled declaration from somewhere underneath Liam’s belly, “are disgusting.”
“You’ve got werewolf strength,” Liam points out, unimpressed. “If you really had a problem, you’d have left by now.”
“Mmph. Less talking, more kissing,” Theo complains, leaning over sideways to chase Liam’s lips.
“Should we make out now?” asks Liam as he meets Theo midway.
“I vote yes,” Theo hums against his mouth.
“No,” Alec protests. “I vote no. This is child endangerment.” He wriggles vigorously underneath Liam, who huffs out a laugh against Theo’s lips and shifts some to let the younger werewolf finally get out and crawl to his feet away from them. Both Theo and Liam share a private chuckle as Alec drags himself toward Mason and Corey and collapses between them on the loveseat, essentially breaking them apart, and jumps into their game of cards on the coffee table.
Liam takes note of the baby blue blanket still draped across Theo’s lap. He picks it up and shakes it out, then spreads it evenly around Theo’s shoulders and uses his grip on the corners as leverage to gently tip Theo toward himself. Theo happily goes, untangling his legs and slotting his knees between Liam’s so he’s effectively straddling one of Liam’s thighs as the beta wraps his arms around Theo’s shoulders.
“Hi,” Liam whispers, eyes sparkling.
“Hey, you,” Theo chuckles back.
“You look cozy.”
“Mm. Could get a lot cozier,” Theo informs him. He closes the distance between them to rest his forehead against Liam’s.
“So glad you came.”
Theo rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, even as he remains pressed against him. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the new pack Uber.”
“Hush, you know that’s not what I meant. You’re always working and it’s hard to get you to join our get-togethers.”
“Yeah, well, it was pretty hard to resist the temptation of seeing what you got me.”
“You couldn’t have known it was me!” Liam protests, pulling back an inch. “I mean—could you?”
“Liam,” says Theo. “I heard you wrapping something in your room last week and I asked you through the door what you were doing. You still can’t lie for shit.”
“I could’ve been wrapping for somebody else,” says Liam weakly.
“If you’d drawn anybody else’s name except mine, you’d’ve been pestering me from day one with what to buy them.”
“Shut up. No, I wouldn’t.”
Theo touches their temples together and nips lightly at his ear. “Yeah, you would.”
“Maybe I was just committed to the integrity of the game.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.” Theo nips him again.
“You’re very—very—distracting,” Liam breathes. “Stop that.”
“Thought you wanted to get cozy.”
“Not that cozy.”
“Aww, Dunbar,” Theo murmurs with a lazy grin. “No making out for you, then.”
“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Liam backtracks quickly. His hand slides up to the back of Theo’s neck to yank him down again, which sends the chimera sliding along his thigh and creating friction. Liam doesn’t pause, just captures Theo’s lips again in a kiss, more heated than before. They quickly get lost in it, Theo surrounded by Liam’s scent on his lips and the skin and blanket pressed up against him, and he happily drops his mouth open to allow Liam to stroke inside with his tongue.
Alec growls from somewhere behind them: “You two need to get a fucking room.”
Theo pulls back, bitten-lipped and flushed, and hauls Liam to his feet. “Now that,” Theo tells the room at large with a smirk, as he pulls his boyfriend toward the stairs, “is the best fucking idea I’ve heard all night.”