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Jensen expected their first holiday together to be somewhat boring. At least, he assumed it would be as boring as anything ever could be with Jared around, but the point remained that it was just the two of them. Holidays in Jensen’s world were always shared with villagers.
Even the more family oriented ones were always lead up to with well wishers and happy greetings and increased sales in his father’s shop as women bustled about buying presents for their men folk. There would be minstrels at the tavern and special ales served, or on the winter feasts, the tavern keeper would brew up his family grog recipe.
It wasn’t that Jensen was so sociable that he missed it. In fact, the best parts about some of the holidays that his village had celebrated had been the easy way that some of the girls would act. Sweet, stolen kisses and blushing gropes had been the order of the day, and to a young man barely out of his youth, they had been a stolen part of heaven.
Not that he tells Jared that. His dragon is notoriously jealous of Jensen’s previous relations. Even though Jared denies that his rider was anything but a virgin coming to his bed, he gets absurdly huffy any time that Jensen even hints that he held hands with another let alone the things he actually got up to doing.
The summer festivals in town were always the more sociable ones. Whether born of the fact that it is harder to gather so many people in the frigid temperatures of winter or just that the summer harvest is more palatable and the kegs of libations have the promise of being refilled by later harvest, Jensen does not know.
In comparison, his and Jared’s celebration is sedate. Jared drags out boxes of carefully hoarded decorations and hangs them about the caves. They’re beautiful and ornate and some of them chime at the odd drafts that roll through the stone hallways.
Jared also brings home a roasted pig. It’s fat and has an enormous apple in its mouth. Jared clearly stole it from somebody, but Jensen is inclined not to ask who. Unless Jared crashed a wedding, the owner of the pig was wealthy and could probably afford to lose his dinner.
At least, Jared assures him that is the case, and Jensen has no desire to start up a philosophical debate with the dragon on a holiday. He has an ingrained loathing of holiday quarrels ever since his aunt came to visit them the one time and proceeded to chide his mother on not only her choice in husband, but also the horrid way she was spoiling her son. There might also have been a part about the wretched town that they had settled in, but Jensen has actively tried to forget as much about that visit as possible.
The real surprise about the holiday is what Jared has done to their bed. Its normal opulence has become obscene. The silks that cover it flash from red to gold and every shade of pink and orange in between depending on how Jensen moves about the room. There are new pillows, some of them obviously shaped for purposes other than sleeping, and Jensen would be lying to himself if the prospect didn’t make his cock fill just the slightest bit.
There are new bottles of oils on the stand by the bedside, and softly scented candles are lit all around the room, making the gold and jewels sparkle in different ways than Jensen is used to them doing.
“You like?” Jared asks as he slides behind Jensen and wraps his arms around his waist.
“I do. It’s terribly gaudy, but I do.”
Jared snorts. “Gaudy! My rider jests. These are the finest of silks and the softest of down. You just want to vex me.”
Jensen smiles a bit and leans back into Jared’s embrace, allowing his backside to just barely brush against the dragon’s crotch.
“And what better thing would I have to do than mock you? Hmm?” He asks as he rolls his hips, brushing against the bulge that he can feel growing.
“You tease me.” Jared accuses as one of his hands slides down to cup at Jensen’s own manhood.
“I’m only a tease if I don’t deliver.” Jensen reminds him as he breaks out of Jared’s hold to climb onto the bed.
He glances over his shoulder to give Jared a coy smile. “I intend to deliver.”