It was a stormy day, and Lars, Tom, Jason, and Chase were gathered up at the visitor’s center and working on their project together. Victor had needed to run off when the rest of the sled team had come calling for him, and he immediately threw on his red jacket and shifted into his new husky form before running into the blizzard to join the sled team in delivering needed supplies all around the resort.
“He’s keeping busy, that’s for sure… At least it hasn’t affected his work with us. He’ll probably he sleeping at the rescue station on the other end of the resort tonight, too. Wish he wouldn’t keep on dragging dog hair back with him, though,” Jason sighed, sipping at his coffee as he continued to install software and configure settings on half a dozen different computers at once. Lars did what he could, topping off the others’ coffee before settling in on Tom’s lap to watch them work. Over the past couple days, they’d managed to make great strides on upgrading the internet system at the park, opening up the possibility of the resort having better communication with the outside world. Victor had been working all day installing the satellites they’d need, then as soon as work was done for the day he usually ran off to help out Sirius and the rest of the sled dogs however he could.
“Well, the rest of us have been working around the clock to get everything working, and Victor keeps running off the moment he gets a chance to drink vodka and play fetch,” Chase growled as he rapidly tapped away at his keyboard. Using Tom’s original prototype system as a base, he’d managed to code an algorithm that would be able to deal with the massive amounts of signal distortion in the area around the resort, taking the signal and ‘cleaning’ it for a smooth, reliable connection. “God, I’m such a genius… You called the right man for this job, Tom.”
“A genius? Perhaps, but does Ketill know he is dating such a ner-“ Lars began to say, only to get cut off immediately by Tom, while Chase blushed bright red at the mention of the hunky selkie he’d been meeting for a swim every night now.
“The joke’s getting old, Lars. We’re all nerds here, and we know it,” Tom interrupted, giving Lars a quick kiss on the muzzle to tide the fox over. “But, if we get this system working, it’ll pay off big time for you and the resort, and the more people you can bring up here the better chance you’ll have of convincing Santa that people still care about Christmas.”
Lars wanted to respond, but Tom was completely right. Him and his family had reached out to Santa in the first place about building the resort not just because they thought they could make some money, but also because they truly wished to bring the Christmas Spirit to the rest of the world. Just like Santa did, or so Lars had thought until recent events had him questioning things. He reached out and touched the small talisman he had been gifted by Inari, which the mysterious fox had promised would bring him success in business.
“Here’s hoping you were telling the truth, Lord Inari…” Lars quietly whispered as he ran one finger across the embroidered gold characters stitched into the red silk.
A silence fell over the men as they worked, making incredible progress in spite of the stress they had been under for the past few days. Blackouts were becoming more frequent and lasting longer, people were afraid to head outside thanks to the poor weather, and magical transformations were going on the fritz with increasing frequency and with more and more dangerous effects. Jason, who had been trying out as many different transformations as he could while at the North Pole, had reluctantly returned his favorite werehare transformation object he’d borrowed after he’d been stuck with long fuzzy ears and a cottontail for half a day after removing it the last time.
“…Shit. Guys? I think we’ve got it!” Chase finally exclaimed, running his code and waiting with his breath held as he waited for any errors to pop up. The others were watching the screen intently (even Lars, who quite frankly had no clue what he was looking at or waiting for), but after nearly ten minutes without a single error, they all let out their breath at once and collapsed back into their seats.
“The satellites are tracking perfectly, the test signals are completely clear, and the ping is the lowest I’ve ever seen,” Jason said happily. “We’ve got this. In an hour, the whole resort should have the fastest satellite internet north of Anchorage in the whole world!”
Tom, Jason, and Chase all pumped their fists and chatted excitedly amongst themselves at their accomplishment. Chase ran off to call up Ketill and invite him out for drinks to celebrate, while Jason was trying to pick out a nice transformation object to wear to the celebration, side-effects be damned. However, Lars was sitting off to the side, sipping his coffee and looking uncharacteristically gloomy in spite of the cheerful mood.
“Something the matter, hun?” Tom asked quietly, wrapping his arms around his smaller lover and gently running his hand over the soft fur on Lar’s chest. He knew Lars liked that, and he hoped it would be enough to put a smile on the fox’s face.
“No… It’s nothing…” Lars sighed peevishly. Not even a tummy rub from the cutest man in the Arctic was enough to raise Lars’s spirits, it seemed. “It’s just… What’s the point? So, we’ve got good internet now. So your father can start his network. It’s not going to change Santa’s mind about anything. It’s not going to fix the resort, and it might not even be enough to-“
Lars let out a quiet ‘eep’ as Tom’s muzzle pressed against his own, silencing him immediately. Lars let out a little moan as he felt Tom’s hot tongue slip into his mouth, bringing with it the rich taste of coffee, and he nearly melted right into Tom’s arms right there. Their tails entwined unconsciously as the two werefoxes quietly kissed and playfully licked each other across the muzzle. Tom had been getting very good at giving werefox-style kisses lately, Lars had to admit.
“Okay. Now that you’ve calmed down a bit, let’s talk, okay?” Tom said, pulling Lars over to a nearby couch. The two men cuddled together, with Lars letting out a quiet purr in his throat that he only made when he was very upset or very horny. And Tom didn’t think Lars was horny at the moment. “You’re worried about Christmas, aren’t you? That something is going on with Santa that will make it so Christmas can’t happen, right?”
“…Yeah. It’s like there’s something missing inside, like it’s been scooped out of me. We always talk about Christmas spirit to the tourists like it’s just a silly feeling, but it’s a real thing for us here at the North Pole. I’m worried about it going away forever,” Lars confided, tears starting to form in his eyes that he had to struggle to blink back.
“I had a feeling it was something like that. You love Christmas, and you want to share it with everyone…”
“All werefoxes love Christmas. It is our most important of holidays,” Lars said, sounding unusually proud. “…But even among foxes, me and Fiia love it the most. We thought if we built this resort, we could bring as much happiness to people as Santa does. But now, Santa doesn’t seem to care about Christmas… He is like my role model, and he stopped caring…”
“Enough of that, fuzzball. Just look at our family. This place brought Clyde and Eric together, it got dad and Otso into one another’s lives, and even my mom and Bix seem to be hitting it off. And of course, it let me see you again,” Tom said reassuringly, giving Lars another quick lick on the nose. “Hell, it even got mom and dad to stop fighting. And you know what? That’s just my family. I bet the same thing is going on all over the resort. People coming together and appreciating the holiday. And on Christmas Day, all of us will get together, open presents, and eat ‘till we can’t eat another bite. With or without Santa helping us. Sound good to you?”
Lars silently listened to Tom’s little speech, and the words seemed to fill up the spot inside him that felt like it had been carved out. He quickly wiped his eyes and smiled for Tom, leaning over and giving him a long, slow lick across the side of his muzzle.
“Oh, you really are a charmer, Tommy. I do love that sickly sweet, lovey-dovey paska, after all. Thank you so much, kulta,” Lars said dreamily, cuddling up as tight as he could against Tom’s thick white fur.
“Anytime, fuzzball,” Tom replied. “…One thing, though. Could you stop calling me ‘Tommy’? Makes me feel like I’m still a kid or something.”
“Hmm… No. Sorry, never happening, Tommy.”