Holiday Dreams

Characters: Dorian Gray, Gabriel, Michael
Origin: Immortal Sonata (WIP)
Advent Day: Day 5 (December 1st)
Rating: R
Word count: 1,686


Gabriel laughed as he poured himself a glass of eggnog and refilled his small plate of holiday cookies. No matter how many times Dorian called them biscuits, he couldn't start using the word. Biscuits were for breakfast, dammit. He couldn't get used to all the British slang. Not to mention the Scottish slang at this particular estate. He shook his head and turned back to Dorian. "Want any more?"

"What I want is to go to Vivvy's Christmas party," Dorian smirked. "What she has there would make any eggnog seem tame."

"Oh, shut up!" Gabriel laughed, flopping down beside Dorian on the sofa and stuffing the head of a gingerbread man into Dorian's mouth before he could say another word. "Yes, I've kept you from your usual debauchery this Christmas. Yes, I know the customs must seem quaint, but you let me help decorate your huge-ass house, and now you're gonna enjoy it."

"Oh, will I, angel?" Dorian chuckled after swallowing.

Why would he? I don't think Dorian's all that into God and Jesus and shit.

Gabriel glared up above him, where he just knew Michael was hovering. "Don't you get started, too," he threatened. "He'll at least like the presents part, if nothing else."

Dorian nuzzled Gabriel's throat after he'd chewed and swallowed his bite of gingerbread. "The brat-twin harassing us on Christmas?"

"Not really," Gabriel moaned, tilting his head back a little. "He's just being Michael."

"We could give him something to harass us about." Dorian chuckled and pulled Gabriel astride his lap. "Does this mean that there can be no debauchery tonight?"

Gabriel shivered in Dorian's arms, and, God, how did the man do it? Just a touch, a word, and Gabriel was half-hard in his jeans. "I didn't say that," he murmured. "I'd never dream of denying you a little debauchery on Christmas."

Dorian nibbled at Gabriel's throat, tongue wet and hot against his flesh. "What do you dream about, angel?"

"Dream?" Gabriel moaned, trying to find his coaster blindly so he wouldn't just drop his glass of eggnog. "I dream... of a white Christmas?"

A snort sounded in the air above him. Nice one, Gabe. Real classic.

"White?" Dorian chuckled, helping Gabriel to set the cup down. "I don't think white is your color."

"It's not?" Gabriel wiggled over into Dorian's lap, straddling him on the sofa with a grin. "What's my color, then?"

Let me guess. Uh... green? Fuchsia? Mauve?

Gabriel made a face, looking up with a half smile. "Mauve? What the fuck, Michael?" He laughed and shook his head, his eyes turning back to Dorian. "Whatever. Wasn't asking him. I was asking you."

Dorian's fingers move up and down Gabriel's back, slowly working their way under his shirt. "Sapphire. You should be dripping in sapphires, angel."

"You going to provide those sapphires?" Gabriel moaned, arching into Dorian's hands.

"You know I will. Head to toe. Silk and sapphires," Dorian breathed, and then his mouth was on Gabriel's throat, licking and sucking and biting.

It only took seconds of that kind of attention to make Gabriel harden the rest of the way, and he squirmed on Dorian's lap. He hadn't been a virgin before he'd gotten with Dorian, but the way Dorian worked him up and made him want to cream his jeans made it feel like he was fifteen again, not twenty-four. "Like the cock jewelry upstairs... and those amazing silk shirts you wear."

"Mmm, like the one I was wearing when we met. You liked that, didn't you, angel?" Dorian purred against his throat, every rumble traveling straight to his cock.


One nip to his throat. Another. "Is that what you dream about?"

"S-Sometimes," Gabriel admitted.

Kind of pathetic, Gabe. Gotta say.

Michael's voice was playful above him, that strange note of affection that took all the sting out of the words. Gabriel could tell Michael didn't hate Dorian quite as much as Michael wanted him to think, but he wasn't about to say anything to his twin about it. Michael would deny everything. He always did.

Dorian's hands quickly did away with his shirt. Gabriel never knew how the hell Dorian was able to just sweep clothing away like he did, but it was a talent he hoped to learn. Dorian bent his head to Gabriel's nipple, lips and tongue pulling a ragged cry from Gabriel as he shoved his fingers into Dorian's gorgeous hair. "Dorian!"

"Tell me what you dream, angel," Dorian whispered, moving from one nipple to the other. "I want to know every part of you, even the hidden ones."

Gabriel bit his lower lip, tried to keep from answering, but Dorian had wonderful, twisted methods of persuasion. "All right!" he barked out, moaning and weakly pushing Dorian away. "You'll think it's stupid..."

"Try me," Dorian demanded. When he blushed, hesitating, Dorian brushed the back of his hand over his cheek. "You're flushing. It must be good. Tell me."

How could he deny Dorian? Short answer: he couldn't. He never could, even when he tried. "I dream..." He spared a glance upward, and then met Dorian's inquisitive brown eyes again. "I dream of Michael being alive again."


He could hear Michael whisper above him, but he continued. "I dream of hugging him, forcing him to watch my favorite movies, taking care of him when he'd get sick. Hell, I even dream of fencing with him like we used to in high school." He ran a hand through his hair. "I-I guess that's kinda weird, huh?"

Dorian's hands swept up Gabriel's chest, over his shoulders, until they cupped his throat. He brought their lips together, and Gabriel melted against him. They kissed for several minutes, Dorian's tongue doing such wicked things until Gabriel was a trembling, hard mass of pent up need in his lap. Only then did he whisper, "Not weird. It's never strange to wish the dead were with you."

Gabriel trailed his fingers over Dorian's perfect face. "Do you dream of Basil, Dorian?"

Pain lanced through Dorian's eyes. "Always."

Gabriel felt that pain as if it were his own. In a way, they shared a bit of loss. Michael might not have been his one true love like Basil had been Dorian's, but that didn't make the loss of him any less painful. He kissed Dorian again, soft and understanding. "I know being close can't erase the pain," he breathed, "but do you suppose it'll help? Remembering the past but enjoying the present, eggnog and cookies and all?"

Dorian smiled at him, fingers teasing Gabriel's nipples. "It's helped since the moment you threw yourself at my car, angel."

Despite moaning, Gabriel did manage to roll his eyes. "I didn't throw myself! I tripped."

"Mm-hmm," Dorian purred, arching his neck to tease Gabriel's throat once more with his mouth. "I believe you, truly."

Gabriel laughed and tugged at Dorian's hair until the leech finally let go of his neck and looked up. "Sounds good to me," he whispered, and then their lips were sealed together in passionate kisses that stole every other thought, pushed every fruitless wish and painful dream far away.


As he looked down on his twin kissing and groping Dorian Gray, Michael had to wonder if he should skip out and take his ghostly spirit elsewhere to give them privacy. Gabriel's words had cut deep, and he hadn't known he could feel injury like that with his body long since buried in San Francisco. Might as well have been a different planet with the way Gabriel was stuck to Dorian. It was like that old Aesop story with the flies and the honeypot. Gabriel was drawn into all the pleasure and debauchery that made Dorian seem so sweet, but he just knew Gabriel was going to get burned, be suffocated by the honey and never fly free again.

If he'd had a throat, he would have swallowed thickly at the sounds Gabriel and Dorian pulled from one another, their hands now hidden beneath the waistbands of pajamas and boxers. Fuck, he was twisted. It would have been so easy to turn his awareness somewhere else, to just phase out of the house and into the snowy night, but he couldn't look away, couldn't stop staring at them as they kissed and groped and laughed.

Gabriel dreamed of him being alive again. Gabriel had no fucking clue how much he wanted it, too. He was careful to never let on, never make Gabriel feel somehow obligated to let him possess him just to get a taste of life again. He was supposed to be here to keep Gabriel safe, but maybe part of him was just selfishly clinging to life by clinging to the one person he'd always been closest to.

He loved his brother, but there were also moments he hated him. No, maybe not hate. He couldn't hate Gabriel, who was so sweet and giving despite everything he'd gone through. Michael envied him, though. So many people complained about life — stubbing their toe on a corner, their food getting cold, any number of mundane things. Fuck, he'd happily take a deep breath of the stench after someone dropped a bomb in the bathroom if it meant he could feel his toes again, feel the winter air sting at his nose and ears... taste the hint of someone he kissed.

But useless wanting was just that: useless. Even as he wanted to turn away from the scene on the sofa, he couldn't. It was his one guilty pleasure. Watching Gabriel enjoying life again was about as close to enjoying it himself he could.

Even if Dorian Gray was the last person on the planet Michael wanted his brother fucking. It was better than seeing Gabriel depressed and alone and scrambling to pay the power bill. There was a sparkle in Gabriel's eyes again, one he hadn't seen in a really long time. That sparkle was worth keeping his mouth shut for once, leaving Gabriel in the peace and joy of the holiday season.

Only for tonight, though. He couldn't keep his mouth shut for long.

All works contained here are copyrighted to K. Piet. No reproduction or usage is permitted without written, express consent by the author.