The Santafication – Part 2

clydesdalecookiefox:

Mark wasn’t entirely sure how many beers he’d had, but it was enough to make him feel like a dirigible. His medium sized gut was pushing ever so slightly out between the red shirt on his torso, and the red pants around his waist. The Christmas party had been a night of excess, and even though he’d ended up on the DJ booth for half the night, he’d managed to eat and drink himself into a bloated stupor, all whilst being in selfie after selfie for his workmates who just had to get a photo with their workplace Santa.

In his half drunken state, he’d been afraid he was going to miss his stop, so had gotten off the bus one stop too early. Directly in front of him, was a house covered in Christmas lights. The garden was packed with ornaments. And by the window, behind the curtains, he could see a large shadow moving about. Chris was awake. Which was handy, Mark thought, as he suddenly realised that his house keys were still in his ‘day-clothes’, back at the office. 

Working his way up the drive, he wondered for a moment if Chris would be ok with him stopping by. Just somewhere to be out of the cold December chill, while he calls a locksmith and sobers up a bit. What if the locksmith won’t come out until the morning? He barely knew this guy. Two conversations in his life, and Mark had spent both of them paying more attention to the man’s figure than the words coming out of his mouth. 

Spurred on by the buzz of booze in his system, Mark rang the doorbell. As he suspected it would, the melody of “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” rung out behind the door. He hummed along while he waited, remembering the lyrics in his head.

“You’d better watch out.
You’d better not cry.
You’d better not pout, I’m telling you why.
Santa Claus is coming..”

The door opened. Standing there in a dark red dressing gown, green pyjama bottoms and burgundy slippers was Mark. Chris couldn’t help but immediately focus on the white chest hairs visible at the top of his sizeable stomach, which was creeping ever so slightly out of the gown. 

“Mark?”, Chris asked with what sounded like faux surprise. “Well, don’t you look a sight! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were my tribute act!” 

He chuckled to himself, pausing just short of a ho ho ho.

“Did you come to show me your outfit? The garden gives it away doesn’t it? I can’t get enough of Christmas!” 

“Not quite,” Mark replied. “I’m really sorry to disturb you this late, only… I left my house keys in my work clothes. At work. Which is kind of locked til Monday morning. I was wondering if I could pop in for a little while whilst I call and wait for a locksmith? No worries if not, I know its really late…”

“Oh, no problem at all, young man. Come on in!” 

Chris opened the door fully, and shifted his hefty frame to one side so that Mark could get into the hallway. As he did so, Mark couldn’t avoid brushing ever so slightly into Chris: the hallway wasn’t that big, but Chris was. Deep down in his big red pants, he felt a tingle, and hoped it wouldn’t show.

“Thank you so much, Chris. I really appreciate it.” Mark said. “I’ll just have to google a locksmith who’ll come out and do an emergency replacement.”

“That’ll be costly,“ Chris ruminated, stroking his beard. “Is the office really shut til Monday?”

“Yeah. I suppose I could get my boss to let us in tomorrow morning. Save myself a few hundred quid.”

“Well,” Chris replied firmly. “That settles it. You can stay here the night.”

“Oh, I couldn’t, really…” Mark protested, not really believing a word of it. After all, emergency locksmiths are expensive, and he could spend some more time with Chris, who was plonking himself down in a big armchair beside the open fire, his dressing gown spreading just enough to let his deep set belly button peek out in the middle of his fluffy stomach, itself resting handsomely on his lap. 

“Nonsense, dear boy.” Chris said, even more firmly. “It wouldn’t be in the Christmas spirit if I cast you out into the night with an enormous bill to pay. You can stay here the night, meet your boss in the morning, and collect your house keys without taking all your Christmas bonus away from you! You do get a bonus, don’t you?”

Mark laughed.

“If only… thanks Chris, I really appreciate it.”

“Well,” Chris looked at him with a knowing smile. “What are friends for? Now then, young Father Christmas. Would you like some milk and cookies?” 

Chris and Mark both laughed. This was going to be an interesting night…