DECEMBER 14, 2007

We Free Kings of Oregon Are
Kiernan Kelly

Malak paused outside the front door, his arms laden with shopping bags, sweat beading on his brow. Christmas Eve, and the temperature hadn't dipped below eighty all day – Islamorada was nearly every bit as warm in December as it had been in August.

As much as he loved the view of the ocean from their house, Malak wished they could be north of the Mason-Dixon Line during the holidays. He'd never experienced snow, not once in the three thousand years he'd walked the earth. Better yet, Malak wished he were in Heaven but knew that for him going home was even less likely than getting snow in South Florida.

It would be nice to see snow, just once, he sighed wistfully.

As the sun beat relentlessly against the back of his neck and he fumbled with the door, he wondered why he and Cael stayed in Florida for the holidays. Yes, it was bitterly cold up north, but the snow was so incredibly beautiful in the images Malak had seen on television and the Internet that they often took his breath away. Pristine, brilliantly white snow blanketing the fields, the mountains, and the trees - it always looked so peaceful, so quiet. He especially loved the Currier and Ives vignettes that always looked perfectly charming. People drinking cocoa by the fire, or bundled up in heavy coats, gloves, scarves, and hats, riding in sleighs, building snowmen, catching snowflakes on their tongues…The closest Malak could come to that in their home on Islamorada was if he stuck his head inside the freezer and licked the ice cube tray.

He grasped the door handle, managing to open it without dropping anything, and slipped inside. He planned to sneak upstairs and hide his purchases in the small attic later, after Cael had gone to bed, where he could wrap them without Cael nosing around. A smile tilted his lips as he shoved the bags into the hall closet.. Even though Cael had been created nearly at the very beginning of time, he acted like a child when it came to snooping for presents.

Cael's voice drifted from the living room, deep and as smooth as velvet. "Bells on Bob's tail ring, making spareribs bright, what fun it is to write and sing a slaying song to knives! Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells…"

What the…? Malak bit back a laugh, creeping toward the door to the living room. Inside, he saw that Cael had set up a huge pine tree, so tall that the top branch was bent nearly in half against the vaulted ceiling, as if Cael had had to wedge it in place. The tree was incredibly full, the bottom branches swooping out and covering nearly half of the open space in the living room, filling the air with the tangy scent of pine.

Although Cael steadfastly refused to celebrate anything even vaguely religious associated with the holidays – he always maintained that as a demon, he was not on the "A" list for birthday parties and therefore owed no one anything, not even a Hallmark card – he embraced the commercial aspects with zeal.

Embraced, celebrated, and twisted in the most perverse ways, usually.

Case in point - aside from a Santa hat perched jauntily on his head, and a length of silver-and-gold garland looped around his muscular body, Cael was nude. The garland glittered, reflecting the tiny, twinkling lights that he'd already threaded through the branches of the tree. Cael's muscles, strong and firm, moved fluidly under taut golden skin as he reached for another ornament. A cascade of silky blond hair tumbled half-way down his back to brush along the top of his rear end, a perfect, inverted heart. Standing over six feet tall, Cael still had to use a stepstool to reach the higher branches of the tree.

Malak swore softly under his breath, his body hardening instantly. The sight of Cael's naked flesh always did that to him – gave him ideas that no angel had any business having. Then again, Malak wasn't just any angel, as Cael wasn't just any demon. Their relationship was special. Still, as he adjusted himself he was glad that Cael had his back to Malak and couldn't see the erection that pushed against his zipper. Cael would only tease him about it, and then try to seduce him – again. And with every passing day, Cael was getting harder and harder – no pun intended – to resist.

But giving in to Cael would cost Malak a part of his soul, and that was something Malak could never, ever allow.

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle any day, oh what fun it is to ride with one horse, soap, and sleigh!" Cael sang, as he hung an odd-looking ornament on a branch of the tree.

Malak burst into laughter, unable to hold it back any longer. "What are you singing, Cael?" he asked, walking in. Stepping up beside him, Malak craned his neck, looking up at the top of the tree. It was by far the biggest Christmas tree they'd ever had, including the palm tree Cael had dug up and dragged inside the house last year. The Queen Anne palm had been ten feet tall, and had looked absolutely silly wrapped with Christmas lights and dripping tinsel from its broad, fan-shaped leaves. Of course, the pine-scented air deodorizers that Cael had used for trim hadn't lent any dignity to the poor thing.

"Jingle Bells. Now, make yourself useful and start tossing tinsel onto the branches," Cael ordered, pointing toward a tall stack of thin boxes that held enough silver tinsel to decorate a forest of trees.

"Those weren't the lyrics. You were singing it wrong," Malak insisted.

"I was not."

"Yes, you were. Spareribs bright? Slaying song to knives? Soap and sleigh? Those aren't right words."

"Yes, they are," Cael said resolutely, hanging another unusual ornament on a branch.

"No, that's a mondegreen," Malak laughed. "Misheard lyrics. The song really goes like this - jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one horse, open sleigh," Malak sang in his own fine alto voice.

"I like my version better," Cael sniffed, then promptly launched into another song. "We free kings of Oregon are, paring glyphs in taverns afar…"

Malak snickered, shaking his head. "Wrong again. The correct lyrics are we three kings of Orient are-"

"What? You've got something against Oregon?"

"No, but those aren't the right words."

"They are now."

"Cael, those songs are traditional! They've been sung that way at Christmas for years and years. You can't just change the words willy-nilly."

"Why?"

"Why? Well…because, that's why," Malak laughed.

Cael snorted. "Just because something has always been done the same way doesn't make it law, Malak. Change is good."

"But dollars are better," Malak quipped saucily. He got a snicker from Cael for his trouble, and a little push toward the tinsel. "There's nothing wrong with being traditional, Cael," he said, refusing to take the hint. "For example, traditionally people wear pants while decorating the Christmas tree," he said, gesturing toward Cael's impressive package.

"Nothing wrong with being untraditional, Malak," Cael countered, arching a pale eyebrow as he stared pointedly at the erection Malak had sought to hide from him. "Are you going to continue being rigid or help me out?"

Malak blushed and ignored the double entendre and looked closer at what Cael was using to decorate the tree. There seemed to be only two types of ornaments on it. He touched a finger to one, a pretty angel with lacy white wings. The angel's hair had been painted black, like Malak's own. He smiled, and reached for another.

It was an identical angel, except that its hair had been painted bright yellow – like Cael's - and its wings had been replaced by red bat wings. Malak noticed a pile of discarded, wingless Halloween bats lying in a corner next to a heap of torn, lacy angel wings. A hot glue gun lay on the floor nearby.

Cael was decorating the tree with angels and demons. How very untraditional…how very Cael.

It occurred to Malak then that the decorations were fitting - if there was ever an untraditional pair, it was he and Cael. From the very beginning of their relationship when Malak had first met up with Cael in Sodom, their lives had been completely at odds with the "normal" way of things. Malak was an angel, and Cael was a demon. Angels and demons had been at war with each other since the Fall, and yet Malak and Cael had managed to stay together without killing one another for three thousand years.

Malak smiled softly. "You're right, Cael. Sometimes change is good," he said, letting the demon-ornament fall to sway gracefully from a branch. "And I can't think of a better way to decorate the tree than with these."

Cael turned toward him with a smile tilting his lips. "I don't want to wait until tomorrow. I want to give you your present now."

"But-"

"No buts. Merry Christmas, angel," he said, one long slender finger brushing Malak's cheek. Then he pulled back the curtains of the living room window with a flourish, exposing a view of the ocean and beach.

Malak's jaw dropped as he pressed his fingers to the cool glass, gazing out at the lazily drifting snowflakes that swirled through the air. He had no idea of how Cael had managed to pull it off, but snow…real snow on Islamorada was Malak's Christmas gift from Cael.

"Merry Christmas, demon," Malak replied, his voice cracking with emotion, blinking back tears. He turned to look at Cael, thinking of how much he wanted to kiss those full lips, to throw his arms around Cael's shoulders and hug him close until he felt every inch of Cael's hard body pressed against his, and at the same time, of how impossible such a wish was for an angel. Clearing his throat, Malak turned away, fearing that Cael would know what he was thinking by the blush that burned his cheeks. He picked up a demon ornament and hung it on a branch. "How's this one?" he said to change the subject and distract Cael – and himself - from his less-than-angelic thoughts. "On the first day of Christmas, my tulip gave to me, a cartridge in a bare tree…"

To Malak's relief, Cael laughed and joined him in a duet. "Twelve drummers thumbing, eleven typers typing,, ten lawyers leaving, nine lazy dancers, eight Mayans milking, seven warts on women, six geezers laying, five golden wings…

As the snow kissed the beach, melting instantly, their voices filling the house with fellowship and cheer, Malak realized that there really wasn't anywhere he'd rather be for Christmas but right there with Cael, festooning a giant tree with angels and demons and singing the wrong lyrics to Christmas carols.

It wasn't Heaven, but it was close.

~End

Kiernan Kelly's High Ball, A Change of Heart, will be on sale for 15% off until 12-17-07.