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Santa should not be checking out his elf's backside, said the little squirm of guilt in Clive's gut.
To flames with that. I'm on break and the kids can't see me.
He and Gav were sequestered in a small “gingerbread cottage” in the backdrop village behind Santa's throne. Thankfully, the windows were painted onto the cheap plywood so the kids couldn't see them quickly mopping the sweat from their armpits and chugging down water before scarfing some energy bars. They only had fifteen minutes before they had to get back out there. Couldn't keep the kiddos waiting too long.
Clive lifted his long fake beard away from his throat and gave himself a good itching. Being at least twenty years younger than most of the people who applied for the job, Clive didn't think he'd get it at first, but the woman who'd interviewed him appeared to find him attractive, an angle he wasn't above working if it meant landing the job; he desperately needed the extra cash this year. The only real downside to this job was that he had to wear both a wig and a beard. Throw a red velvet suit in there too and he was a miserable ball of sweat and itchiness for most of his shift, but at least he didn't have to wear a fake potbelly and the money was good—the Phoenix Landing department store was in an affluent area of the city and paid a lot more than your standard mall. And—Clive let his gaze roam over the curves of Gav's velvet clad ass once more—there were other perks.
He knew Gav was fit from the first and that only became more apparent after some kid spilled her soda all over him and he had to squeeze himself into their one backup elf costume, an outfit that had clearly been made for someone at least a full size smaller than Gav.
“Phew!” Clive's wandering eye quickly skittered away as Gav straightened from his rummage through their tiny cooler with another bottle of water in hand. “Dunno 'bout you, but I think I've lost ten pounds in sweat alone this month.”
Clive knew Gav's costume was as hot as his was, a green long-sleeved tunic and shorts over candy cane stripe leggings, but Gav was also the one who did all the running around. He had to keep the line orderly, escort the shy kids to Santa, escort the terrified kids away from Santa, lift the kids onto Clive's lap, deal with the parents who insisted their perfect angel would never punch Santa, convince Christmased-out toddlers to smile for their picture, and gently but firmly send away the howling children who didn't want to leave. And all with boundless energy and cheer to boot. Clive had no idea how Gav did it, but he was endlessly grateful for the man. He was fine with kids, but as he soon discovered, his energy ran down quickly when a sea of them were all screaming and crying and clamoring at once and the blonde's attitude always helped bolster him. The three days last week when Gav had been away sick were easily the worst of his seasonal career. Clive had been stuck with Benna, a woman who obviously disliked children and spent most of her time smoking out on the loading dock and leaving Clive to deal with everything by himself.
“Could definitely do without sweating like a pig, but the worst part for me is this damned beard...” Clive gave it an irritable tug. The thing was expensive and heavy, styled in elaborate ringlets, and affixed to his face with fashion tape. The first night he'd taken it off, some of his stubble came with it and he'd made sure to shave since. He was looking forward to having his real beard back after the season. He felt naked without it.
“Does seem a shame, to cover up that face of yours.”
And this is why Clive only felt a little bit guilty about checking out Gav's ass earlier. They'd had a flirty little thing going on since their first week. Strange, for Clive, he usually wasn't a flirty person, but it felt a natural thing to do with Gav. He'd also entertained the idea of asking for the other man's number or inviting him out for a drink after work once or twice, before chickening out. He was determined not to chicken out tonight, though. This was literally his last chance. It was Christmas Eve, their final shift.
“Well, just a few more hours and both me and my face will be free,” he said with a chuckle.
Gav grinned at him and Clive quelled the urge to blush, “Thank gods for small favors!”
Clive crammed another energy bar into his mouth while Gav made sure there was nothing out of place, everything had to be perfect for when the surly floor manager came by to glower at them. He was on his way out when Gav gave a chuckle, one hand reaching out for him.
“Hold your chocobos there, Santa, you've got crumbs in your beard.”
Gav gently shook the crumbs from the beard, his thumb idly brushing against Clive's cheek and sending the faintest tingle down his spine.
“Thank-you,” he murmured. “Not just for doing crumb duty, but... everything. I'm certain you made this job a hundred times easier than it's meant to be.”
Gav's cheeks turned the faintest pink as he smiled. “Ah, well, y'know, just doin' my job... Santa's helper and all. You ready to get back out there? Barny's gonna be skulking by soon.”
Clive took a deep breath and nodded, “Let's do it.”
The last few hours of his shift went by surprisingly fast and without much fuss. He only had one kid scream in his face about wanting a real pink chocobo right now before Gav came over to send them on their way with a cheerful “Happy Christmas!” Before he knew it he and Gav were collecting their final paycheques and heading for the employee locker room.
“Bloody flames, that feels good...” Clive sighed as he finally peeled the fake beard off his face and grabbed some aloe vera gel from his locker, slathering it all over the irritated skin beneath.
“The beard was fake!? You're not really Santa??” Gav gasped, clutching dramatically at his chest and making Clive chuckle.
Might be hard to believe considering what he was checking out earlier, but that was the first thing Clive noticed about Gav: his humor and his smile, it never failed to light up the room.
Gav started to peel himself out of his too-small costume and Clive quickly turned to face his locker with a little swoop in his belly. He changed into his street clothes, his gaze never wandering from his cell phone on the top shelf of the locker. No more stalling, it was time to ask—
“Happy Christmas, Clive.”
Clive turned with a start, he hadn't heard Gav come up behind him. The blonde was positively stealthy without his jingly elf hat on. With a smirk that was equal parts mischievous and shy, Gav held out a red envelope and Clive felt a small twinge of guilt. “Oh, I didn't get—“
Gav cheerily cut him off with a wave of his hand and a chuckle, “Don't worry yourself, it's just a card, nothin' fancy.”
“I... thank you.”
Clive took the envelope, still feeling slightly awkward and guilty as he lifted the flap and slid the card out. The front was decorated with a picture of a frost wolf with a red nose pulling a moogle wearing an oversized Santa hat in a sleigh. Inside, he found a voucher for a free drink from a bar called The Fat Chocobo along with a message from Gav: “Been a pleasure, Clive,” a phone number and another moogle that Gav had doodled himself followed.
“My day job, so t'speak.” Gav said, nodding at the voucher as he finished cleaning out his locker. “Shoot me a text when you wanna cash that in. Boss won't mind me joinin' you, he's nowhere near as uptight as Barny is.”
Clive's jaw worked silently for a moment, dumbfounded that he suddenly had everything he'd been working up the courage to ask for just mere seconds ago. “I definitely will,” he finally answered, voice slightly hoarse.
“Good.” Gav dropped him a wink and shrugged on his coat as he headed for the exit. “And if you play your cards right, big man, y'might get to see this in all its magnificence.” he smirked, giving himself a playful smack on the flank.
Clive felt his entire body, from the top of his head to the ends of his toes, flush with heat, embarrassed that Gav had noticed his earlier ogling, but pleased at the thought of seeing more of Gav, in more ways than one.
“Looking forward to it.”