"Noooo nonono fuck fuck fuck FUCK! FUCK!" Tom paced back and forth, pulling at his ears as his tail whipped back and forth in agitation. The air around him shimmered in bright red and orange swirls as Lars followed, trying to comfort him as he struggled to hold back nervous laughter.
-
Lars had performed perfectly, of course, and watching the love of his life interact with his mother had given him such a boost of dopamine that he didn't realize the air had started to shimmer around them until Lars shot him a furtive glance. Fortunately, they had been able to explain the misstep away as a new filter they were trying, but it put them both on edge as they tried to wrap up the call.
"Oh! Do you have a cat, Lars?"
Tom froze, realizing his tail had accidentally flicked into frame and things quickly began to spiral out of control after that as first his ears reformed and then he felt his face starting to push back out into a muzzle as Lars looked on in shock.
"What's wrong with your face, Tom? Is that another filter?"
In a full blown panic, and realizing he was losing control as fur bloomed up and down his arms, he shouted "Sorry Mom, Gotta go!" as he slammed his laptop shut before staring at Lars with a horrified expression.
His mom had tried calling back several times, which Tom had no choice but to push to voicemail as he was in no state to attempt rectification. He simply resorted to shooting her a quick text message, "Sorry Mom! The cat accidentally knocked something over! Love you!"
"Thomas Brandon Laine you call me back right now," she'd replied immediately.
She tried calling again before sending another message that made Tom's stomach drop into the center of the Earth.
"I'm taking the next flight out."
"Eric's going to fucking kill me," Tom whined piteously.
----
"You'll pull your fur out if you keep at it, Aarre," Clyde warned with a chuckle as Eric brushed through the fur on his chest for what was likely the hundredth time, trying to get it to sit perfectly.
-
Eric had been looking forward to their day off from training--something Rudy had begrudgingly given the team after assigning homework. "Be ready to practice twice as hard the day after tomorrow." He'd been excited, that was, until Clyde's father showed up with the news that the Neuvosto would take place that night.
Due to the importance of this year's Christmas Eve, the tribe had decided to put off Eric's acceptance trial to give them more time to train. With the rise of technology, Christmas Spirit and the belief in Santa Claus had started to wane at an alarming rate, and their performance this year would be pivotal. Mitigation plans were in motion, of course, as evidenced by the opening of the nearby FoxFire Polar Resort, but ramp up was still underway and they couldn't depend on any substantial improvement for at least another couple of years.
Eric worried initially that the postponement was the portent of a bad outcome for him and Clyde, but the reindeer assured him otherwise with a tight embrace as they rested their antlers together.
Earlier that night, Eric had gone to retrieve his formalwear, but Clyde stopped him. "This is a Reindeer event, Söpö. You won't be needing those. But I have a surprise for you." He grinned mischievously as he pulled Eric to the foot of their bed, which was still covered with various maps and flight routes they'd been cramming, crumpled from the many breaks they had taken to blow off steam--making out, sixty-nining, and more--throughout the day.
"You don't need these either, of course. You're already the most handsome Buck in the entire North Pole, but..." He grinned, pulling out a black velvet box from behind his back, which Eric opened to find a set of gold antler caps. Clyde had evidently managed to grab a set from Johann without his knowledge. "May I?" Eric nodded and the larger reindeer carefully pulled them out and began to clip them onto his antlers. (Eric had come rushing out of the bathroom earlier that week in a panic holding strips of bloody velvet he'd shed, certain the stress from practice was causing his body to give out, as Clyde burst out laughing before explaining that it was a natural process. He'd even introduced him to some new hygiene tools they'd used to clean and polish his antlers to a respectable sheen.)
Standing back to get a better view, Clyde beamed. "Stunning." He gushed, his eyes dancing across Eric as his sheath began to stir in obvious agreement.
-
Eric sighed, giving up on getting his chest fluff to cooperate as he turned to Clyde, who was putting the finishing touches on his own set of caps made of Damascus steel, which gave him a very distinguished look. He looked flawless of course, Eric thought to himself, the way his fur jutted effortlessly out from just the right places framing his neck, chest, and arms, his abs, his sheath... He blinked and grinned as Clyde gave him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. "You ready, My Love?"
-
The path before them was lined with firelit lanterns, flickering in the night air as they walked, arms intertwined. They'd travelled to the edge of town, to an amphitheater Clyde had excitedly explained was their primary gathering center for this type of event--he'd been coming here since he was a foal, though usually never this late. His father and his father before him had both been on the council, so he'd been dragged along and told to sit near the front. As the subjects of the Neuvosto, however, it was tradition for them to arrive after the Herd had assembled. Clyde walked quickly, and Eric could tell he was nervous.
As they approached, Eric heard what he quickly realized was singing. A steady hymn that shifted reverently: its complex chords beautiful and reverberating in the crisp night air. The entire herd was singing in Finnish, he realized, getting momentarily lost in the haunting melody. He turned to ask Clyde what the words meant before he felt him stop, realizing with an unnerving jolt that they were now standing just outside of the back entrance. Eric breathed in and out deeply, trying not to hyperventilate.
"I love you, Eric. No matter what happens tonight." His reindeer squeezed his hand and they stepped forward together.
----
Michael Laine was having a terrible fucking day. His latest fling had broken up with him that morning, running over his favorite rosebush in front of his Los Angeles home as she drove away. Good Riddance. Work, likewise had been a shitshow. Ratings were down and there were threats of budget cuts and, worse, layoffs if they didn't come up with something big in the next couple of months. A natural workaholic, he hadn't taken a vacation in years, though the thought of relaxing in a hammock on a beach somewhere with a bucket full of alcohol was sounding incredibly tempting right about now.
He flipped on the lights and shrugged out of his jacket with a groan before crossing to the couch and collapsing into it, kicking his feet up on the ottoman and turning on the latest game without thinking about it and trying not to judge the production values.
A sharp trill had him fumbling in his pockets before he pulled out his phone. He scoffed as white letters spelled out "Bitch" on his phone. Things had remained tense with his ex-wife, even after all of these years. The only reason he hadn't blocked and deleted her number yet was the off-chance they needed to coordinate something involving their sons, whom he loved dearly. After she'd caught him cheating, she promptly kicked him out. What did she expect? She was always taking on additional shifts at the hospital, though his career was picking up so it wasn't like they really needed the money.
His thoughts turned introspective. Alright maybe he'd been more to blame, if he was being honest with himself. He'd been distant in their relationship and the sex hadn't been great for years. He'd loved her, but they just weren't compatible. A couple of years after Eric had been born, they'd just stopped trying. Eric. He sighed. He wished he had a closer relationship with him. He'd still been pretty young, just 9 or 10, when they'd split, and they never fully connected despite his many attempts. Tom still called every once in a while to check in, but he was off travelling the globe for work and he could never keep track of which time zone his son was in.
The call went to voicemail and he shrugged. If it was important she'd leave a message or send him a text. He went back to sulking over his day. He wasn't eager to jump back into the dating scene AGAIN. He was getting so tired of one-night stands and short flings with vapid women. He was so tired of feeling emotionally distant. Was this a midlife crisis? ...Was he a bad fuck? What was missing?
His phone trilled again and he glanced down in surprise. She was calling again? Ugh. Fine, this had better be important. He muted the TV and put the phone to his ear.
-
Michael sat at his computer, resting his forehead on his hand as he blinked at flight prices. Finland? He hadn't been there in years. And the idea of being stuck on a plane with Her for that long? He'd make sure to sit in a different row. He laughed humorlessly, remembering. He and Theresa had actually met in Finland. He'd been visiting for a family reunion his mom had guilted him into attending. Not really knowing anyone, he'd slipped away and gone to the local bar, where she'd been grabbing a drink. Her great-something-or-other-grandparents were originally from somewhere in Sweden, and she'd decided to come and see her ancestral lands before starting Nursing School. As two Americans abroad, they'd immediately hit it off. He amused himself with the delicious irony that they'd be flying back there together.
Whatever was going on, she'd been hysterical and insistent, though he didn't quite understand what the fuck she was talking about. But if his sons were in danger, he wasn't going to sit on his fucking ass. Sighing, he entered his credit card details and finished the purchase before tabbing back over to the previous website.
"The FoxFire Polar Resort, huh?" He scanned the overview, scrolling through the outdated looking website. "For just opening, you'd think they'd get a better designer." He chuckled to himself, though soon stopped, a strange feeling nagging at him. He shrugged it off and closed his laptop before getting up to go start packing. Did he even own a Parka anymore?