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fredbassettTitle : Christmas Crackers
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Ryan/Stephen, Claudia, Nick, Felix and assorted special guest stars
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : It’s Christmas Day in Sanctuary and events take an even stranger turn than usual.
A/N : 1) A little while ago![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lsellersfic told me it was my turn to write Felix, so I have done. *g* 2) The wonderful world of Sanctuary was created by mysteriousaliwz and Felix is the brain-child of lsellersfic. No one would dare say they ‘owned’ any of the other guests!
Ryan drifted slowly out of sleep, feeling comfortable and warm, even though he knew without looking that the outside world would no doubt be at least a foot deep in snow. He glanced up at the ceiling out of habit. The ladies were very keen on a traditional Christmas with all the trimmings.
He wasn’t entirely surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. Stephen was like a big kid at this time of year and would almost certainly have gone outside for a run in the snow.
”He has.” As ever, the words seemed to float down from above.
“Thanks, Management. Happy Christmas.”
”Happy Christmas, Ryan.”
Ryan pushed the duvet down below his waist. He’d woken up from a rather pleasant dream where he’d been just about to fuck his lover’s brains out – something he hoped to do as soon as Stephen came back from his run – but right now he needed a piss, and he wasn’t going to be able to manage that with a dick hard enough to knock holes in wood. And besides, the ladies deserved a treat on Christmas morning.
With his eyes closed, Ryan ran his hand down the hard length of his cock. He’d long since got used to the feeling of being watched and actually found it rather a turn-on now. He didn’t draw things out too long as the smell of freshly-brewed coffee had started to drift out of the kitchen, along with the mouth-watering aroma of frying bacon. Someone was clearly intending to start the day off in style with a bacon butty.
His cock was hot and heavy in his hand, moisture already beading at the tip. It didn’t take much to send him over the edge, come spilling onto his stomach. Ryan could almost hear a happy sigh sliding like silk across his skin. He ran his fingers through the milky fluid and brought them to his lips to lick them clean.
The feeling of approval was palpable. He grinned. Management were remarkably easy to please.
Naked – no one wore clothes to bed in this place – Ryan padded into the en-suite bathroom and directed a long stream of piss from his softening cock into the toilet bowl. Some of the ladies had developed a few new kinks recently so he made sure that he put on a good show for them. There was only one bodily function you could guarantee privacy for and he really rather hoped that was a line they wouldn’t suddenly decide to gallop past at speed. After a quick shower and an even quicker wank – it was Christmas, after all – Ryan pulled on a pair of loose black trousers and wandered barefoot and bare-chested in the direction the kitchen. The fact that Management had a distinct fetish for stubble and wet hair saved a lot of time in the mornings.
A small black and white shape scurried down the corridor clutching what looked like a mug of coffee in its paws. In the past, Ryan would have done a quick double-take and wondered what the hell was happening now, but those days were long gone.
The kitchen was nothing like its usual scene of chaos and disorder. A large, somewhat amorphous shape wearing a bright red Santa hat was in front of the work surface. Two of its seemingly endless supply of tentacles were busily engaged in preparing Brussels sprouts, while others were deftly chopping carrots, flipping bacon in a huge frying pan and checking the temperature attained by probably the largest turkey Ryan had ever seen. He had a nasty feeling that someone, probably Lyle, had slipped the aftermath of an anomaly incursion into this year’s hamper and that Felix was operating on his usual principle of waste not, want not.
Ryan certainly appreciated the times when their tentacled friend – a genetically-modified sex toy from the future (don’t ask, really, don’t ask!) – put in an appearance. When Felix was around the whole place suddenly ran like clockwork, with no arguments about whose turn it was to prepare meals, wash up, chop the wood for the fire and carry out assorted other jobs needed for the maintenance of an ever-growing household. Felix did everything. Usually all at the same time.
Two more ovens had appeared overnight in a corner of the kitchen and were also full to bursting. There even appeared to be a vegetarian option. A massive pile of mince pies resided at one end of the work surface but anyone who got too close promptly had their hands gently slapped away by a vigilant tentacle.
Two small bare feet scuttled past Ryan, trailing long bright yellow scarves. Sinister and Dexter had obviously opened their presents from Dave already. Ryan suspected that by the end of the day, everyone in the house would be wearing identical scarves, each with their own neat little name tag securely sewn on. The future predator wasn’t terribly original when it came to gifts, but, as Stephen kept telling him, it was the thought that counted. Ryan hoped that Dave would be pleased with a new set of knitting needles, even though he had almost as many of them as Blade had knives.
Sinister and Dexter chased each other twice around the kitchen and then dashed out. A long tentacle reached out, brushing against Ryan’s shoulder as it closed the door behind them. The slight frisson of pleasure that accompanied all contact with Felix danced along Ryan’s nerve endings, reminding him that he still hadn’t had his morning shag yet.
Another tentacle poured a mug of coffee and held it out to him.
Ryan sat down at the table and finally got around to wondering why Claudia – wearing a green silk robe that would no doubt cause Cutter’s eyes to stand out on stalks – was nursing another black and white bundle of fur in her arms and feeding it milk from a bottle.
In response to Ryan’s raised eyebrows she said, “He’s hungry.”
Ryan could see that. He could also see that there was another one sitting on her knee looking up at her with huge, soulful eyes.
“Why is the place suddenly infested with raccoons?”
Claudia shrugged, almost dislodging the little creature by accident. “I have absolutely no idea, but they’re rather cute.”
The door opened to admit Stephen, dressed only in running shorts and a very skimpy teeshirt. His hair was lightly frosted with snow and Ryan contemplated whether anyone would mind if he fucked him now without bothering to get as far as the bedroom.
“There’s a hairless mammoth in the garden wearing purple leggings and a trunk warmer.”
“That probably means Lester will be joining us later,” Claudia remarked.
Ryan decided not to ask why.
“There’s a bunch of hippos as well.”
There would be, Ryan thought, although he was starting to think that the current menagerie was a little odd, even by their standards. A ferret poked its head out of one of the cupboards, licked its lips in a rather suggestive manner and then disappeared again. Ryan decided that ignoring it was probably the safest option.
“Looks like Dave’ll need to knit another batch of scarves,” he commented, manfully resisting the urge to pull Stephen’s shorts down and get closely acquainted with his exceedingly delectable arse.
“He’s already started. At the rate he’s going, they’ll all be properly dressed by lunchtime.” Stephen stared at Claudia for a moment and then asked, “Why are you bottle-feeding a raccoon?”
“He’s hungry,” Claudia told him.
“Knew there’d be a good reason,” Stephen said cheerfully.
Claudia smiled and tickled the raccoon’s ear. “Timmy, this is Stephen. Stephen, meet Timmy.”
Stephen promptly developed a distinctly soppy grin. “What’s the other one called? He looks a bit peckish, too.”
The microwave pinged, a tentacle reached out and scooped the other little creature up off Claudia’s lap and settled it in the crook of its arm – which would probably have to do for want of a better word – while another tentacle retrieved a second bottle of milk, tested its temperature and then lifted it to the raccoon’s lips. It promptly started to suckle, mewling with pleasure.
“He’s called Teddy,” Claudia replied, still cooing over her particular bundle of fur. “Thanks, Felix.”
A tentacle snaked across the kitchen, stroked Claudia’s cheek and then poured some more coffee.
The door opened a second time to admit a startled-looking Cutter, hair standing up in almost as many spikes as Stephen’s. “The bloody house is overrun with rrrrrraccoons!”
“Yes, we’d noticed,” Claudia said mildly, putting Timmy over her shoulder, burping him and then settling him down in a large fleece-lined basket that had just appeared on the table. “They’re sweet, aren’t they?”
“The one that’s sitting in Ryan’s favourite chair isn’t,” Cutter commented. “Looks a scrappy little bugger, if you ask me.”
Ryan’s eyebrows met his hairline at speed. This needed investigation. A shag would just have to wait.
Cutter was right. A large, burly raccoon was very definitely sitting in the middle of his favourite chair, staring around as if it owned the place. Its whiskers twitched as it stared at Ryan out of small, dark, beady eyes. It possessed a stare that reminded him rather forcibly of Blade in a bad mood.
Ryan glared down at the creature and jerked his thumb in a gesture that even a raccoon should have been able to understand.
The creature glared back at him unblinkingly.
“Out,” Ryan said, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone of voice, although he had a nasty feeling it might have fallen slightly short. Peaceful negotiation had never been one of his strong suits.
The raccoon twitched its nose and rubbed its paws together, favouring Ryan with a distinctly speculative look.
Cutter was right. It did look like a scrappy little bugger.
Movement outside in the garden caught Ryan’s eye. A large hippopotamus in a pink tutu appeared to be dancing in the snow. He started up at the ceiling for a moment wondering if someone upstairs had spiked his coffee. But at least the elephant – or mammoth, according to Stephen – was still a normal colour, not pink like the hippo’s tutu, so he probably hadn’t simply had too much to drink last night, although fuck knows what the creature was doing in their garden. Apart from apparently playing football with a crocodile.
Ryan blinked. This was taking surreal to extremes.
Unfortunately, blinking turned out to be a mistake. A bad mistake. He failed to fend off a blur of black and white movement and suddenly found himself making unexpected contact with the sheepskin rug in front of the fire – the one that he’d spent rather a long time shagging Stephen on, back in the days when they’d had the place to themselves. The raccoon appeared to have him in a head lock. That was definitely an unexpected development.
Ryan braced his hands against the rug, preparing to unseat his attacker.
The raccoon tightened its grip and chittered menacingly in Ryan’s ear.
“Best of three?” Ryan suggested wondering if there was any way he was ever going to be able to live this down.
The raccoon jumped off and extended one black-furred paw to Ryan. He took it. They shook hands – or paws – or something – and then circled each other warily. He wouldn’t make the mistake of taking his eyes off it again. The little fucker was fast.
The height difference didn’t help Ryan much. In fact it was actually a total hindrance. After circling each other warily for a moment, the raccoon rushed him, going in low and fast. Ryan drew back one foot for a kick. The raccoon swerved. Two surprisingly strong paws grabbed his other ankle and a moment later, Ryan met the rug again at speed.
The raccoon stepped back, dusted its paws off, gave a slight bow and then jumped back onto the chair.
It was good.
Bloody good.
Ryan returned the bow.
Before he had the chance to suggest a return match, he heard the sound of hammering on the outside door and he discovered why the extra ovens had appeared when what looked like at least half of the ARC’s Special Forces team came clattering in, followed by Lester. Once he’d ascertained that they were only wearing visitors’ passes and that there hadn’t been a major disaster somewhere, Ryan relaxed and started to drink the can of beer that Becker had immediately lobbed in his direction.
It was time to lighten up and get into the Christmas spirit, even if it meant that Ryan might have to wait a while longer before indulging in some extra-curricular activity.
Christmas dinner turned out to be even more of a riotous occasion than usual, but with Felix at the helm plates were kept filled, drinks were topped up, demanding raccoon babies were fed and assorted other creatures were supplied with suitably festive fare. As ever, the house seemed subtly to expand to meet the demand for extra space. Ryan was treated to the surreal sight of Lester pulling a cracker with the mammoth – both of them wearing yet more of Dave’s scarves, so it looked like all three of them had agreed to bury any past differences.
On top of that, it appeared one of the crocodiles liked guns almost as much as Becker did, and the two of them had retired to a corner for some male bonding, although thankfully not of the interspecies kind.
”What do you take us for, Ryan?” one of the ladies whispered, not doing a very good job of sounding affronted, the sound appearing from nowhere next to his ear.
Ryan smirked and wandered off to the toilet to make amends. He was beginning to wonder if the little buggers upstairs were spiking his drinks with diuretics. But it was a small price to pay for the ability to achieve an erection at the drop of a hat and the stamina to fuck like a frenzied ferret for hours on end.
Speaking of ferrets…
The one sitting in the middle of the bed treated him to another lascivious look and Ryan had a sudden vision of himself with his tongue buried in Stephen’s arse.
The bedroom door opened to admit his lover, still dressed only in his running shorts and skimpy teeshirt.
“Fancy a quick shag before Felix hands round the mince pies?” Stephen enquired, running his fingers down a very obvious erection.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Ryan grinned and shoved his trousers down, giving away the fact that Stephen wasn’t the only one who hadn’t bothered with underwear.
They didn’t waste time on preliminaries. Stephen never objected to being fucked with only spit for lube. Shagging under the watchful eye of a cream-coloured ferret was a new one on him, but Ryan refused to let their furry visitors inhibit his activities. Ten minutes later, after Ryan had finished licking his own come out of Stephen’s well-fucked arse, the ferret wandered off, no doubt in search of other entertainment.
“Is it just me, or is this place getting weirder by the day?” Ryan enquired, watching as the ferret’s long tail disappeared from sight around the door.
“Hard to get much weirder than a pair of disembodied feet,” Stephen pointed out, and Ryan had to concede that he was probably right.
Several hours later, when the assembled multitude had finally eaten themselves to a standstill, Felix finally managed to shoo everyone out of the kitchen so he could clear up in peace – although Claudia seemed more than happy to stay behind to help. Just before the door closed, Ryan caught a glimpse of a pair of tentacles gently sliding up her legs. He grinned. No wonder Felix was so popular with the ladies. Ryan never objected to his attentions either. His ability to chop vegetables, sweep the floor, do the washing up and give someone a wank all at the same time was legendary – and much appreciated by all.
Ryan had been hoping to get to his favourite chair first, but the raccoon – Torrence, although he didn’t know how he now knew the bloody thing’s name – had beaten him to it. It was holding a large Christmas cracker in its paws and was giving Ryan another of its trademark glares.
He wondered briefly about suggesting a return match, but decided to let his lunch settle before engaging in any more strenuous activities, plus he was now rather more mellow than he’d been when they’d first made each other’s acquaintance.
The raccoon held out one end of the cracker to him.
Ryan smiled. It was probably the closest thing to an olive branch he was likely to get. He took hold of his end of the cracker and pulled. Much to his surprise, he came out on the winning side.
The cracker yielded a bright yellow paper hat that Ryan promptly gave to Dave. It went very well with his scarf and the predator seemed genuinely touched by the gesture. He’d also really liked the knitting needles Ryan had given him. The obligatory toy appeared to be a small, plastic raccoon that looked much like the furry menace that had taken up residence in his chair. Ryan placed the toy carefully on top of the television and unrolled the motto from the cracker.
A raccoon is for life, not just for Christmas.
He looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. If the bloody thing was here to stay, someone was definitely going to have to get him a new chair.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Ryan/Stephen, Claudia, Nick, Felix and assorted special guest stars
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : It’s Christmas Day in Sanctuary and events take an even stranger turn than usual.
A/N : 1) A little while ago
lsellersfic told me it was my turn to write Felix, so I have done. *g* 2) The wonderful world of Sanctuary was created by mysteriousaliwz and Felix is the brain-child of lsellersfic. No one would dare say they ‘owned’ any of the other guests!Ryan drifted slowly out of sleep, feeling comfortable and warm, even though he knew without looking that the outside world would no doubt be at least a foot deep in snow. He glanced up at the ceiling out of habit. The ladies were very keen on a traditional Christmas with all the trimmings.
He wasn’t entirely surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. Stephen was like a big kid at this time of year and would almost certainly have gone outside for a run in the snow.
”He has.” As ever, the words seemed to float down from above.
“Thanks, Management. Happy Christmas.”
”Happy Christmas, Ryan.”
Ryan pushed the duvet down below his waist. He’d woken up from a rather pleasant dream where he’d been just about to fuck his lover’s brains out – something he hoped to do as soon as Stephen came back from his run – but right now he needed a piss, and he wasn’t going to be able to manage that with a dick hard enough to knock holes in wood. And besides, the ladies deserved a treat on Christmas morning.
With his eyes closed, Ryan ran his hand down the hard length of his cock. He’d long since got used to the feeling of being watched and actually found it rather a turn-on now. He didn’t draw things out too long as the smell of freshly-brewed coffee had started to drift out of the kitchen, along with the mouth-watering aroma of frying bacon. Someone was clearly intending to start the day off in style with a bacon butty.
His cock was hot and heavy in his hand, moisture already beading at the tip. It didn’t take much to send him over the edge, come spilling onto his stomach. Ryan could almost hear a happy sigh sliding like silk across his skin. He ran his fingers through the milky fluid and brought them to his lips to lick them clean.
The feeling of approval was palpable. He grinned. Management were remarkably easy to please.
Naked – no one wore clothes to bed in this place – Ryan padded into the en-suite bathroom and directed a long stream of piss from his softening cock into the toilet bowl. Some of the ladies had developed a few new kinks recently so he made sure that he put on a good show for them. There was only one bodily function you could guarantee privacy for and he really rather hoped that was a line they wouldn’t suddenly decide to gallop past at speed. After a quick shower and an even quicker wank – it was Christmas, after all – Ryan pulled on a pair of loose black trousers and wandered barefoot and bare-chested in the direction the kitchen. The fact that Management had a distinct fetish for stubble and wet hair saved a lot of time in the mornings.
A small black and white shape scurried down the corridor clutching what looked like a mug of coffee in its paws. In the past, Ryan would have done a quick double-take and wondered what the hell was happening now, but those days were long gone.
The kitchen was nothing like its usual scene of chaos and disorder. A large, somewhat amorphous shape wearing a bright red Santa hat was in front of the work surface. Two of its seemingly endless supply of tentacles were busily engaged in preparing Brussels sprouts, while others were deftly chopping carrots, flipping bacon in a huge frying pan and checking the temperature attained by probably the largest turkey Ryan had ever seen. He had a nasty feeling that someone, probably Lyle, had slipped the aftermath of an anomaly incursion into this year’s hamper and that Felix was operating on his usual principle of waste not, want not.
Ryan certainly appreciated the times when their tentacled friend – a genetically-modified sex toy from the future (don’t ask, really, don’t ask!) – put in an appearance. When Felix was around the whole place suddenly ran like clockwork, with no arguments about whose turn it was to prepare meals, wash up, chop the wood for the fire and carry out assorted other jobs needed for the maintenance of an ever-growing household. Felix did everything. Usually all at the same time.
Two more ovens had appeared overnight in a corner of the kitchen and were also full to bursting. There even appeared to be a vegetarian option. A massive pile of mince pies resided at one end of the work surface but anyone who got too close promptly had their hands gently slapped away by a vigilant tentacle.
Two small bare feet scuttled past Ryan, trailing long bright yellow scarves. Sinister and Dexter had obviously opened their presents from Dave already. Ryan suspected that by the end of the day, everyone in the house would be wearing identical scarves, each with their own neat little name tag securely sewn on. The future predator wasn’t terribly original when it came to gifts, but, as Stephen kept telling him, it was the thought that counted. Ryan hoped that Dave would be pleased with a new set of knitting needles, even though he had almost as many of them as Blade had knives.
Sinister and Dexter chased each other twice around the kitchen and then dashed out. A long tentacle reached out, brushing against Ryan’s shoulder as it closed the door behind them. The slight frisson of pleasure that accompanied all contact with Felix danced along Ryan’s nerve endings, reminding him that he still hadn’t had his morning shag yet.
Another tentacle poured a mug of coffee and held it out to him.
Ryan sat down at the table and finally got around to wondering why Claudia – wearing a green silk robe that would no doubt cause Cutter’s eyes to stand out on stalks – was nursing another black and white bundle of fur in her arms and feeding it milk from a bottle.
In response to Ryan’s raised eyebrows she said, “He’s hungry.”
Ryan could see that. He could also see that there was another one sitting on her knee looking up at her with huge, soulful eyes.
“Why is the place suddenly infested with raccoons?”
Claudia shrugged, almost dislodging the little creature by accident. “I have absolutely no idea, but they’re rather cute.”
The door opened to admit Stephen, dressed only in running shorts and a very skimpy teeshirt. His hair was lightly frosted with snow and Ryan contemplated whether anyone would mind if he fucked him now without bothering to get as far as the bedroom.
“There’s a hairless mammoth in the garden wearing purple leggings and a trunk warmer.”
“That probably means Lester will be joining us later,” Claudia remarked.
Ryan decided not to ask why.
“There’s a bunch of hippos as well.”
There would be, Ryan thought, although he was starting to think that the current menagerie was a little odd, even by their standards. A ferret poked its head out of one of the cupboards, licked its lips in a rather suggestive manner and then disappeared again. Ryan decided that ignoring it was probably the safest option.
“Looks like Dave’ll need to knit another batch of scarves,” he commented, manfully resisting the urge to pull Stephen’s shorts down and get closely acquainted with his exceedingly delectable arse.
“He’s already started. At the rate he’s going, they’ll all be properly dressed by lunchtime.” Stephen stared at Claudia for a moment and then asked, “Why are you bottle-feeding a raccoon?”
“He’s hungry,” Claudia told him.
“Knew there’d be a good reason,” Stephen said cheerfully.
Claudia smiled and tickled the raccoon’s ear. “Timmy, this is Stephen. Stephen, meet Timmy.”
Stephen promptly developed a distinctly soppy grin. “What’s the other one called? He looks a bit peckish, too.”
The microwave pinged, a tentacle reached out and scooped the other little creature up off Claudia’s lap and settled it in the crook of its arm – which would probably have to do for want of a better word – while another tentacle retrieved a second bottle of milk, tested its temperature and then lifted it to the raccoon’s lips. It promptly started to suckle, mewling with pleasure.
“He’s called Teddy,” Claudia replied, still cooing over her particular bundle of fur. “Thanks, Felix.”
A tentacle snaked across the kitchen, stroked Claudia’s cheek and then poured some more coffee.
The door opened a second time to admit a startled-looking Cutter, hair standing up in almost as many spikes as Stephen’s. “The bloody house is overrun with rrrrrraccoons!”
“Yes, we’d noticed,” Claudia said mildly, putting Timmy over her shoulder, burping him and then settling him down in a large fleece-lined basket that had just appeared on the table. “They’re sweet, aren’t they?”
“The one that’s sitting in Ryan’s favourite chair isn’t,” Cutter commented. “Looks a scrappy little bugger, if you ask me.”
Ryan’s eyebrows met his hairline at speed. This needed investigation. A shag would just have to wait.
Cutter was right. A large, burly raccoon was very definitely sitting in the middle of his favourite chair, staring around as if it owned the place. Its whiskers twitched as it stared at Ryan out of small, dark, beady eyes. It possessed a stare that reminded him rather forcibly of Blade in a bad mood.
Ryan glared down at the creature and jerked his thumb in a gesture that even a raccoon should have been able to understand.
The creature glared back at him unblinkingly.
“Out,” Ryan said, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone of voice, although he had a nasty feeling it might have fallen slightly short. Peaceful negotiation had never been one of his strong suits.
The raccoon twitched its nose and rubbed its paws together, favouring Ryan with a distinctly speculative look.
Cutter was right. It did look like a scrappy little bugger.
Movement outside in the garden caught Ryan’s eye. A large hippopotamus in a pink tutu appeared to be dancing in the snow. He started up at the ceiling for a moment wondering if someone upstairs had spiked his coffee. But at least the elephant – or mammoth, according to Stephen – was still a normal colour, not pink like the hippo’s tutu, so he probably hadn’t simply had too much to drink last night, although fuck knows what the creature was doing in their garden. Apart from apparently playing football with a crocodile.
Ryan blinked. This was taking surreal to extremes.
Unfortunately, blinking turned out to be a mistake. A bad mistake. He failed to fend off a blur of black and white movement and suddenly found himself making unexpected contact with the sheepskin rug in front of the fire – the one that he’d spent rather a long time shagging Stephen on, back in the days when they’d had the place to themselves. The raccoon appeared to have him in a head lock. That was definitely an unexpected development.
Ryan braced his hands against the rug, preparing to unseat his attacker.
The raccoon tightened its grip and chittered menacingly in Ryan’s ear.
“Best of three?” Ryan suggested wondering if there was any way he was ever going to be able to live this down.
The raccoon jumped off and extended one black-furred paw to Ryan. He took it. They shook hands – or paws – or something – and then circled each other warily. He wouldn’t make the mistake of taking his eyes off it again. The little fucker was fast.
The height difference didn’t help Ryan much. In fact it was actually a total hindrance. After circling each other warily for a moment, the raccoon rushed him, going in low and fast. Ryan drew back one foot for a kick. The raccoon swerved. Two surprisingly strong paws grabbed his other ankle and a moment later, Ryan met the rug again at speed.
The raccoon stepped back, dusted its paws off, gave a slight bow and then jumped back onto the chair.
It was good.
Bloody good.
Ryan returned the bow.
Before he had the chance to suggest a return match, he heard the sound of hammering on the outside door and he discovered why the extra ovens had appeared when what looked like at least half of the ARC’s Special Forces team came clattering in, followed by Lester. Once he’d ascertained that they were only wearing visitors’ passes and that there hadn’t been a major disaster somewhere, Ryan relaxed and started to drink the can of beer that Becker had immediately lobbed in his direction.
It was time to lighten up and get into the Christmas spirit, even if it meant that Ryan might have to wait a while longer before indulging in some extra-curricular activity.
Christmas dinner turned out to be even more of a riotous occasion than usual, but with Felix at the helm plates were kept filled, drinks were topped up, demanding raccoon babies were fed and assorted other creatures were supplied with suitably festive fare. As ever, the house seemed subtly to expand to meet the demand for extra space. Ryan was treated to the surreal sight of Lester pulling a cracker with the mammoth – both of them wearing yet more of Dave’s scarves, so it looked like all three of them had agreed to bury any past differences.
On top of that, it appeared one of the crocodiles liked guns almost as much as Becker did, and the two of them had retired to a corner for some male bonding, although thankfully not of the interspecies kind.
”What do you take us for, Ryan?” one of the ladies whispered, not doing a very good job of sounding affronted, the sound appearing from nowhere next to his ear.
Ryan smirked and wandered off to the toilet to make amends. He was beginning to wonder if the little buggers upstairs were spiking his drinks with diuretics. But it was a small price to pay for the ability to achieve an erection at the drop of a hat and the stamina to fuck like a frenzied ferret for hours on end.
Speaking of ferrets…
The one sitting in the middle of the bed treated him to another lascivious look and Ryan had a sudden vision of himself with his tongue buried in Stephen’s arse.
The bedroom door opened to admit his lover, still dressed only in his running shorts and skimpy teeshirt.
“Fancy a quick shag before Felix hands round the mince pies?” Stephen enquired, running his fingers down a very obvious erection.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Ryan grinned and shoved his trousers down, giving away the fact that Stephen wasn’t the only one who hadn’t bothered with underwear.
They didn’t waste time on preliminaries. Stephen never objected to being fucked with only spit for lube. Shagging under the watchful eye of a cream-coloured ferret was a new one on him, but Ryan refused to let their furry visitors inhibit his activities. Ten minutes later, after Ryan had finished licking his own come out of Stephen’s well-fucked arse, the ferret wandered off, no doubt in search of other entertainment.
“Is it just me, or is this place getting weirder by the day?” Ryan enquired, watching as the ferret’s long tail disappeared from sight around the door.
“Hard to get much weirder than a pair of disembodied feet,” Stephen pointed out, and Ryan had to concede that he was probably right.
Several hours later, when the assembled multitude had finally eaten themselves to a standstill, Felix finally managed to shoo everyone out of the kitchen so he could clear up in peace – although Claudia seemed more than happy to stay behind to help. Just before the door closed, Ryan caught a glimpse of a pair of tentacles gently sliding up her legs. He grinned. No wonder Felix was so popular with the ladies. Ryan never objected to his attentions either. His ability to chop vegetables, sweep the floor, do the washing up and give someone a wank all at the same time was legendary – and much appreciated by all.
Ryan had been hoping to get to his favourite chair first, but the raccoon – Torrence, although he didn’t know how he now knew the bloody thing’s name – had beaten him to it. It was holding a large Christmas cracker in its paws and was giving Ryan another of its trademark glares.
He wondered briefly about suggesting a return match, but decided to let his lunch settle before engaging in any more strenuous activities, plus he was now rather more mellow than he’d been when they’d first made each other’s acquaintance.
The raccoon held out one end of the cracker to him.
Ryan smiled. It was probably the closest thing to an olive branch he was likely to get. He took hold of his end of the cracker and pulled. Much to his surprise, he came out on the winning side.
The cracker yielded a bright yellow paper hat that Ryan promptly gave to Dave. It went very well with his scarf and the predator seemed genuinely touched by the gesture. He’d also really liked the knitting needles Ryan had given him. The obligatory toy appeared to be a small, plastic raccoon that looked much like the furry menace that had taken up residence in his chair. Ryan placed the toy carefully on top of the television and unrolled the motto from the cracker.
A raccoon is for life, not just for Christmas.
He looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. If the bloody thing was here to stay, someone was definitely going to have to get him a new chair.