When I say nothing, she awkwardly glanced between Arthur and me, then around the room. “Right, so I’ll be off. See you around sometime.” I mumble a noncommittal hum as she leans up on her toes, lips puckered, waiting for me to lean down and give her a kiss.
The fuck I was. My eyes flick up to the row of glass windows on the second level, at the end of the factory, overlooking the entire work floor. Klaus stands at the window, taking in production from his ivory tower, and next to him is Nick.
With his arms crossed, and a scowl he can’t hide, he looks so much like his father when he’s mad. Clearly me talking with Pepper was making him so fucking pissed off.
Leaning down, my eyes never drifting from his, I avoid Pepper’s mouth instead whispering into her ear
“I have work to do Pepper. Kindly fuck off.” Leaning back, I give her my biggest grin, before flicking my gaze back to him. At this point, I’m surprised that actual smoke isn’t coming out of his ears. I knew what my whispering looked like, but part of me knew his jealousy only meant he wanted more of me. That I could get behind.
I shoot him a wink before turning my attention back to the machine and Arthur, who now has half of his body shoved underneath the conveyor belt adjusting some of the internal cogs.
As much as I loved to fuck around and piss off Klaus, I love my job and do it well.
No part of me wanted to ruin Nick’s first year as Santa, but the fire that burned hotter in my core as I felt his eyes ghosting over me the entire time I worked, yeah, that was something I wanted more of.
“Good work Son, I hadn’t thought of clamping the pipes to those rotators.” Arthur claps me on the back as we pack up our tools, sweat glistening across both of our foreheads.
“Yeah, just a lucky guess.” I shrug, throwing the last wrench into my bag before zipping it up and tossing it over my shoulder. Running a hand through my hair, I glance up at the windows to see Nick still looking down at us. An idea popping into my head.
“I’m just gonna let Nick know it’s done.” I yell back to him as I move across the factory floor, not even waiting for his reply.
I practically fly up the stairs to the corporate suites. I could feel the electricity buzzing through my body after being under his intense gaze for the past hour.
Nodding to his receptionist, a blond elf whose name I never bothered to learn, I approached the double door and knocked with my knuckles.
He gruffly replies with a simple “Enter,” and a fleeting smile tugs at the corners of my lips before I school my features into a neutral expression. I walk inside, clicking the door shut behind me, relishing in the satisfying sound of the lock engaging. I make sure to leave a greasy hand print on the otherwise pristine white door.
I turn, taking him in. He sits at his desk pretending to be going through paperwork. That scowl is still evident even if lacking the ire of before, but the way he swallows as I move closer, gives away his nervousness at my presence.
I drop my work bag on one of the two chairs set up for guests in front of his glossy red desk, before dropping myself into the other.
I had always hated these offices, each one carrying a different theme. Klaus’s is what you would expect from Santa Claus’ office: an enormous mahogany desk, red and gold trimmings everywhere, a literal Christmas tree in the corner with fake presents, next to a mammoth fireplace. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had found a way to make actual snow fall in his office.
Nick’s office has a candy cane theme with white marble floors and red stripes across white walls, which matched his red desk and office chair.
“Do you ever feel like a peppermint threw up in here?” I say, trying to break the tension. It must work as a small smile softens his face, and he lets out a small scoff.
“Every damn day.” He lets himself look at me then, a slight blush crossing his cheeks as he takes me in, sweaty from work, covered in grease. Sitting in this pristine office, I couldn’t feel more like his opposite.
Scratching at his temple, he fumbles with the paperwork in front of him before giving up and placing both hands firmly on the desk between us. He inhales deeply, icy blue eyes finally looking into mine, body tensing.
“Listen.” I cut him off before he has a chance to tell me how much a mistake last night was to him. His words don’t mean shit when I’ve felt his eyes on me for the last hour.
“The machine is working again. You can cancel the ambulance for Theodore’s heart attack. It should be running fine now.” He relaxes at my quick change of subject.
“Ah, right, thank you. I’ll let Dad know.” Smiling softly, the lines around his mouth and lips become clearer and my heart clenches at the sight. I feel a desperate need to run my fingers along those smile lines, to memorize every minute detail of his face.
I snap back in my seat, dropping my gaze as I snatch my tool bag and stand. What the fuck was that feeling?
I wanted to fuck him.
That was it.
Right?
It’s one thing to have a few hook ups with him, but to feel something more for my stepbrother would be a colossal disaster. The village would erupt. We could literally ruin Christmas.
“Yep, cool. I’ll see you around.” Though I need to get out, I can’t stop myself from taking one last look at him. He looks at me with narrowed eyes, a slight furrow in his brow, trying to read my sudden shift in mood.
He stands as I turn, trying to make a quick exit but barely making it a few steps before his hand stops me.
“Kris, about last night. I’m sorry if what I did made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I just …” he lets out a sigh, his hands scrubbing at his face. "I just got jealous.” My head tilts towards him, his hand still pressed against my forearm. My chest heaves with the restraint it takes to not shove him against the wall and give him everything.
Everything? Is that what I want?
“Of?” I ask.
I know exactly what he was jealous of. I could see it in the factory today, the way he winced every time Pepper touched me, or the scowl that etched itself across his face when she dared to offer a kiss.
“Of … fuck. Of Pepper, okay?” He lets go of me, turning his back to me as he runs a frustrated hand through his styled salt and pepper hair. The same hair I couldn’t get enough of last night, cut to the perfect length so that I could grab handfuls of it to help gain leverage.
My cock stirs in my overalls at the memory of his pouty lips wrapped tight around it, the way his throat gripped me as he gagged on my length. I stare at his back as he rests his hands on his hips, inhaling deeply as he gathers himself.
“I saw her getting you off, and I got jealous.” He rushes out the words with a quick exhale, unable to look at me as he speaks. I stand there silently waiting for his confession to tumble free.
“I wanted to be the one getting you off. I wanted to be the one making you white knuckle the sleigh. To push you over the edge.”
