“Jingle Bells, Conrad Smells. Bastion laid an egg…”


The tune was offkey, Bastion the Panther was not a singer. But he didn’t care, he was happy as a lark, happy enough to actually lay an egg. He was heading home to Conrad. His jolly song echoed off the hard walls of the hallway leading to their shared flat. Cool frigid air swiped through his exposed tail, the chill harsh enough to make his lower back shiver. Much akin to the way his heart shivered in anticipation. But, again, he didn’t care. He was about to get home. He was about to see Conrad.


The corporate consultant had been on the road for far too long, seeing far too many places, meeting far too many people. Away from the one he wanted to see and meet more than any other. His husband Conrad the Bear. They hadn’t even been able to celebrate the holidays together, so to make up for lost time they’re celebrating tonight.


He hummed through another verse of his rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’ as his keys provided accompaniment. The clink of sliding into the lock and swipe of the deadbolt were wonderful percussion.


“HAIRY CHRISTMAS!!” He shouted as the metal door thumped against the door stopper. Unpredictably, the rebound was more vigorous than intended, heavy metal plopping back into him in revenge. Bastion scowled at the gate as he more mindfully set it upon the stopper, wary for another parry from the inanimate object. The deep rolling chuckle that boomed from his left alerted him that his embarrassing tussle had been witnessed. His eyes whipped past every inconsequential knick knack, homely photographs, and well-loved furniture to find the source of that amazing sound.


The big, black teddy bear lounged. There was no better way to describe his posture. The armchair in the reading nook of their living room was his throne. A plain standing lamp provided warm light upon the lovely curves about his chubby form, upon his well conditioned fur shining in lustrous glory, and, lastly, upon his nakedness. He only wore three things: A pair of fake antlers with twinkling red and green lights, a light up red nose, and a box about his lap. There was also the deep black eyes that contain the world and a beaming smile that could melt the hearts of many-a-men and women, but that was a given. That was natural Conrad.


“Hairy Christmas, babe.” He said, repeating the greeting. The intentional mistake was a tradition to them. Harkening back to an auto correction on a text sent from Conrad to Bastion back when they were still dating. Not that Conrad would admit it started with him.


It was Bastion’s turn to chuckle, turning from his nude husband to get his fit out. “Certainly not what I was expecting.” He spoke between giggles that brought twinkles to his teddie’s eyes.


“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to get in a brawl with our door, yet here we are.” He said with a shrug. Bastion scoffed and rolled his eyes. His luggage rolled into the flat as he shut the entryway. A bit more forcefully than necessary.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and if I did, then the door started it.”


“Ah, well, then it had it coming.”


“See you get it!” He waltzed his way across the distance, closer to his lover, whose nudity was already alighting fantasy within his mind. Conrad didn’t stir, arms still draped across his stomach. “So… whatcha got there? Something for me?” Pointing to the conspicuously placed box.


“How about a kiss first, babe? You come home and the first thing you're after are my goods. Pshh.”


“Says the guy who didn’t even stand to greet me.”


“Couldn’t help it, it’s… cumbersome.”


“Uh huh, yeah. Sounds a lot like a you problem, babe.” Bastion countered as he stepped up by the armchair, they gazed longingly into each others eyes. Weeks apart, oh how Bastion missed this. The back and forth, the tit for tat among their tête-à-tête.


Paws caressed each other as the sun kisses the world at dawn. Effervescent spectors trailing through and around one another. A first meeting in way too long. Conrad’s hands always felt warm, his well adapted fur coat and natural insulation and strong circulation aiding him greatly during these cold winter months. Bastion was the complete opposite, bundled in two jackets and a long cotton shirt and the panther was still feeling the faintest chill. The only exception was where their hands met. That contact was a pleasant heat.


The panther stooped, starving off his desire for too long, the skin to skin contact reminded him of what he’d been missing for much longer than he could bear. Sparks still flew when they kissed, reunion a delicious spice on their signs of affection. Conrad sprinkled in a fine amount of hand around Bastion’s head. Bast added his own blend of fingers along his chest. Lips locked for as long as one of them could hold their breath.


He tasted delicious to Bastion, and he wore a fine cologne. Sandalwood musk that had a hint of chai. Spicy cinnamon tickled his nose as his whiskers fittered about his bulb covered snout. He wished he’d never have to breathe, such that they could just tenderly buss until the angels sing for the end of times.


When they parted, it was with a sigh. Only for their foreheads to follow where their mouths started. Bastion bathed in the presence of his other half, just as he was sure that Conrad bathed in him.


“I’m so happy you’re home, Bast.” Whispered words that were solely for his ears, for none more around to listen to their honesty. None more to feel how they felt than he. None more heartened to hear the joy and none more wounded to hear the pain.


“I’m so happy I’m back.” Responding with the same dance of feelings.


“You can open your gift now, if you want.”


The merry chuckles of two reunited husbands echoed off the walls.