Jingle Belled and Mistletoed

by Jeanette Lynn

  “Oomph! I- Er-” He tried to fight but it was useless. Dean had taught me to wrestle himself and there was no way he was getting out of this that easily.

  "Miss me, Deanie-baby?" I joked as Dean tried to reach behind and grab me, grunting and grumbling in distress as I tightened my grip a little more.

  It was a futile effort on his part, his arms so bulked up and muscled the way they were he could barely reach his arms back to get a good enough grip on me.

  Me, with my softer self, extra cushion and all, wouldn't get much more from that than pinched skin or a tickle.

  Dean got up, taking me with him and bent over, startling me into loosening my grip, flipping me over his shoulder, and flopping me onto the bed with an “Oomph.”

  He jumped on me then and pinned me down, looming over me victoriously as he leaned in, our faces inches away from one another's, and flashed me that quick, cocky smile of his. "Give up, Jin-jin?" he taunted, grinning down at me evilly.

  Sputtering, I glanced over his shoulder and gasped, my eyes bugging out, acting like something was right behind us, desperate to distract him so he'd turn and look.

  He bought it, and when his head jerked to follow my gaze and he lifted up a little, trying to see better over his shoulder, I kneed him in the stomach.

  Latching on, I grabbed his goatee, giggling as he grunted then yelped out indignantly in pain.

  "Had enough, traitor?" I snickered as he tried to get me to let go.

  "Am I interrupting anything?" Vincent drawled suddenly from the doorway, leaning his tall lean frame against the wall as he raised a haughty brow at us, his dark hair and wiry frame a startling contrast to Dean's blonde hair and well-muscled build.

  "Nope," Dean said casually, leaning in a little closer to wiggle his brows at me. "We were just getting started, weren't we, Jinny?"

  "Like hell!" I bellowed out in fake offense, squirming, elbowing him in the ribs as he made kissy faces at me, to shove him off.

  "Oh, you wound me, darlin'!" Dean exclaimed as he flopped back on the bed, his hand cupped over his heart.

  "I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man alive, Dean Miller. Who only knows where you've been!"

  "That's just mean, Jin." Dean pouted, lower lip jutting out, but sucked his lip into his mouth quickly when I went to flick it with my middle finger and thumb.

  "The truth hurts," I called sweetly, patting his cheek as I got up off the bed. "So, suck it up, buttercup!"

  "Cruel... cruel... woman," Dean sighed out sadly, shaking his head at me, affecting a wounded expression.

  I glanced over as I chuckled at Dean to spot Vincent scowling at us, his perfectly sculpted brows pulled down low as he studied us.

  Feeling like this would be as good a time as any to leave, before these two started bickering, I decided to make an exit, making my way to the door.

  At least, I tried to.

  "Vincent," I murmured quietly as I stood in front of him, waiting for him to move so I could pass. I had to look up, up, and up to make eye contact with him.

  "Jinny," he said quietly, his cold green eyes regarding me steadily as he just stood there, not budging one inch, blocking my only exit out.

  Swallowing thickly, biting the retort on my tongue, I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, trying not to scowl back at him in deference to his misguided dislike of me.

  Not really looking forward to trying to fix that misconception, I thought unhappily, dooming the showdown. I wouldn't just be trying to set the record straight; somehow, I was going to have to convince him I didn't really do it, any of the things Dean had put on me, if I wanted him to actually believe me.

  "Erm, unless you want me to climb out the window to get out of here, you kinda need to move." Fidgeting with the ends of my shirt as awkwardness set in and we both simply stood there, morons that we are, I laughed a little nervously.

  Vincent’s scowl slipped a little as he uncrossed his arms from over his chest and turned himself sideways, allowing enough space for me to slide past him in the doorway.

  "Thanks," I mumbled as I slid forward, attempting to squeeze my way past.

  My arm brushed up against his side and I thought I felt his fingers brush against the side of my hip, a wisp of a feeling, a feather light touch, there and gone in a second, but I was probably mistaken.

  Despite whether it actually happened or not, I shivered a little at the ghost-like sensation on my skin, wrapping my arms around myself as I pulled back to ward off the chill.

  Sliding along the wall in the hall, safely on the other side and outta that room, I peeked up at Vincent from over my shoulder then to catch him staring after me. His green eyes were oblivious to my perusal as they left the back of my head, sliding down my back, to become glued to my backside.

  Heat suffused me as I played it cool and walked sedately into my room, quietly closing the door behind me, then booked it for the bathroom to see if I had anything on the butt of my pants.

  I swear, I thought in annoyance, if Dean put another honk if you're horny or juicy and nutritious bumper sticker on my rump, I'm going to shave his eyebrows off while he sleeps!

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  Hark the... Geralds? Angels sing...

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  A little while later and, apparently, bumper sticker free, I made my way to the kitchen to get a bite to eat.

  "Oh, that's just terrible! Oh, I cannot believe it!" I heard Mom saying as she spoke in the living room.

  I tried to tune her out, rummaging through the fridge for something to fix the rumbling in my tumbly. Head bobbing along, I snagged the fixings for a sandwich, humming as I made myself a masterpiece.

  "Oooh, make me one, too, Jin Jin, I'm starved," Dean said as he pulled out a stool and hopped up, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

  "Okay, but it's gonna cost you... your soul," I said in my best evil villain voice, laughing maniacally as I got out another plate.

  Dean turned thoughtful as he jacked my soda off the counter and chugged half of it down. "I could live with that," he paused to say, then chugged the rest, setting my now empty can down, shrugging his shoulders like eh, sure, why not.

  Our parents’ voices drifted in from the living room, bits and pieces here and there, and Dean raised his brows at me, motioning towards the other room. "What's going on in there?" he asked curiously, eyeing the door that separated them from us.

  "Dunno," I admitted honestly, scooting his plate towards him as I took a huge bite of my own turkey on whole wheat.

  Dean scooted his plate close, picking up his sandwich to lift it to his lips. Taking a huge bite, he moaned, smiling between bites as he chewed happily. “Good stuff,” he complimented, to which I smiled around my own bite.

  Three bites in for both of us and his mother's voice drifted towards us, louder, more exuberant than the rest, her next words sending us both freezing on the spot. "Oh, well, you should stay with us! We can make room, can't we, guys?" Miriam Miller called cheerfully in her sweet sing-song of a voice.

  "Of course!" my parents and his dad all chorused, while Dean and I both groaned out loud.

  What are they up to now, the look we shared said.

  We must have groaned louder than we thought as Dean's mother started chirping at us merrily, calling for us from the other room. "Dean, Vincent, Jinny? Is that you? Come and see who's going to be staying with us! It's the Geralds! You remember the Geralds, don't you?"

  Inhaling sharply, I choked on my sandwich as she said the last name of one of the biggest assholes I'd ever met, William Geralds.

  He was the very last person I'd ever expect to be all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. William Geralds, I thought and groaned, again, longer, harder, more desperately than I’d intended.

  William Geralds, the man, no- boy. The boy who'd dated me for two years, told me he loved me, taken my virginity, bragged about it to his new varsity buddies the very next day, and then promptly dumped me. The same idiot who just stood there, smarmy sm
ile firmly in place, quiet and reluctant to join the bunch but never stopping them, all the same, standing by while that same group of friends of his mocked me openly, tearing me down, day after day. Yep, that boy I'd stupidly given my body and heart to just stood by and watched, smirking, as my heart and self-esteem shattered into a million little pieces at his feet.

  "Please be a different set of Geralds," I whispered as I made my way, reluctantly so, to the living room, Dean trailing behind. "Please be a different set of Geralds." Pushing through the door, I entered the living room and came face to face with none other than William Geralds himself and his younger brother Fred.

  Will smiled over at me warmly, looking me over from the tippity top of my head to the bitty bottom of my feet, his expression friendly and open as he regarded me a little too warmly.

  What the... whuh?

  My expression, however, probably resembled a ghost, I thought, as all of the blood drained from my face, leaving me chalky and beyond pale.

  It wasn't so much him that bothered me anymore, but all the ugly memories he was tied to, as far as I was concerned. It was kinda like reliving a little bit of high school all over again. God, how I’d hated high school.

  I couldn’t say I liked Will over there anymore or anything, thank god, all that crush shit quickly getting chucked in the bin after our disastrous dating history and everything that followed, and I could honestly say I had absolutely no desire to chat it up with the prick, even if all of that crap that went on was quite a long time ago and who even knew what he was like now.

  Dean leaned in close to my ear and whispered quietly, "Isn't he the ass wipe that dumped you because his buddies made fun of your weight?"

  Sort of, I thought, cringing inwardly.

  Wincing visibly, I didn't answer him, trying to remember how to breathe as he stood by and waited for my response. I couldn't. Not like this. Not now. I might just swallow up my tongue, choke on it, and die.

  So I just stood there, like a deer caught in headlights, hoping to wake up from this horrible, horrible, nightmarish dream, all my insecurities from high school swiftly flooding back, whether I wished otherwise or not, filling me with self-doubt.

  Vincent entered the room a moment later, taking his time in responding to his mother’s enthusiastic entreaties, taking in the scene before him with his cold, assessing eyes, scowling his typical scowl. Grunting out a greeting when his mother prompted him, crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at William. "William," Vincent said with a barely perceptible nod, speaking in that cold, crisp way of his, his tone sharp, "what do you want?"

  "Vincent!" Miriam scolded, walking over to her son’s side and tugging on Vince's arm playfully. "He doesn't mean it," she laughed nervously.

  "Yes, I do," he said patiently, his eyes never wavering from William's as he stared him down.

  "Oh, he is such a kidder this one! Ha-ha!" she tried to joke.

  "No, I'm not," Vincent said honestly, and I smiled at the byplay between mother and son.

  "Ah, there's that smile I've been looking for," William said charmingly, grinning over at me mischievously, his dimples popping up in his ridiculously handsome face. "Now if only I could get you to direct one of those smiles towards me, Jinny Belle," he teased and winked.

  My mother tittered like a fifteen year old and Miriam sighed wistfully.

  Me, well, my smile instantly vanished and I frowned up at him. I wasn’t buying it. Not. At. All. "Keep dreaming, buddy, cuz you aint gonna get one from me," I said venomously, getting a big belly laugh from Dean as he busted up like a baboon behind me.

  "Jinny Belle Reynolds! Don't be so rude!" Mom gasped out in surprise.

  I looked over at Dean then as he wiped the tears from his eyes, ignoring my mother's moues of distress as I inquired of my partner in crime, "Wanna go watch a movie?"

  "Yup," he said succinctly, and we both turned, ignoring our new houseguests to quickly make our exit.

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  Could you please pass the shut the hell up?

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  "So, William, Fred, what have you two been up to lately? We haven't seen you both in forever, it seems."

  "I work for my father's old firm now," Fred said politely, the quiet clinking of silverware almost deafening as we all sat and ate—awkwardly, I might add—around the dinner table.

  I was seated between Dean and Vincent, glad to be as far away from William as possible, even if it meant sitting next to the president of the I hate Jinny club.

  "Oh, that is just lovely," Mom gushed. "Isn't that lovely, Jinny?" Mom then asked me interestedly, smiling at me sweetly.

  A little too sweetly. Hmm.

  Blinking, I stopped, food poised on my fork, fork half way to my mouth as I eyed my mother suspiciously. "Indubitably," I replied in my best snobby British voice, getting a huff form Mom, winking at Fred when he chuckled at my antics.

  I'd always liked Fred. He was a good guy, sweet, too, and seemed to still be. Basically, nothing at all like his older brother. "How's Mary?" I inquired warmly, referring to Fred's long-time girlfriend.

  "She's great, thanks for asking," he perked up, grinning at me.

  "Who's Mary?" my mother cut in curiously.

  "His lady love," I said before Fred could answer, shoveling my neglected fork full of food into my mouth.

  My mother's face fell for a moment at that, but then she plastered on a big ol’ fake smile.

  "Well, that is just lovely, Frederick. I am so happy for you, dear," she said politely, kicking her fake smile up to high beams.

  She keeps that crap up, I thought unkindly, her face just might get stuck that way. I snickered, glancing down at my plate, and had to act like I had to cough to cover it up.

  "So, Jinny Belle," William said from across the table, his foot sliding under the table to my side to touch mine. "What have you been up to lately?"

  Startled at the unwanted attention and unwarranted touch, I pulled my feet back and tucked them under my chair, grimacing at the slimy worm as he tried to charm everyone with his phony bologna attitude.

  Guess he hasn't changed much since high school. Yuck!

  "Look, William," Vincent cut in suddenly, "I don't have anything against those who bat for the opposite team, but I just don't swing that way. That being said, would you kindly leave my feet alone," he grumbled out in his gruff, gravelly, annoyed voice.

  William turned beet red with anger and embarrassment, sitting up a little straighter in his seat, while I coughed to cover up my laugh. Eye straying towards our chairs, I glanced down and noticed Vincent's feet weren't anywhere near William's.

  In fact, there was no way William could have touched his feet to Vincent's, even if he'd wanted to.

  Eyes widening in surprise, though I quickly hid it a moment later, I didn't say anything to Vincent about it, feeling no need whatsoever to call him out on it, just silently thanked the grump next to me, to myself, for saving me from any of William's future footsie attempts while at the dinner table.

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  Stuck in the middle with you

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  "This is not how I envisioned spending my night," I muttered as I eyed my fellow bedmates.

  Our parents’ generosity has left a lot to be desired, I thought, a bit miffed, like an extra bed.

  William and Fred are, as we speak, laying comfortably in Dean and Vincent's assigned room, probably sleeping the night away as the rest of us fought over prime mattress space.

  Of course, someone, or should I say someones, could have slept on the couch in the living room but, nooo, they couldn't, because it's uncomfortable and it would hurt their backs.

  Okay, honestly, I’m willing to admit, I wouldn't sleep on that rock hard excuse for furniture either, but I highly doubted this setup was that much better.

  Then there was always William's suggestion that he'd sleep on the floor so that I could have his bed next to Fred in their room. Gah. I shuddered. Yeaaaahhh, okay, buddy.


  If the stupid looks he was giving me were anything to go by, then I'd say he had no intentions of staying on that floor, let alone sleeping while I was in there.

  That ended in a big fat no from me and Dean's suggestion for our current sleeping arrangements.

  Funny how our parents didn't even bat an eyelash at the idea of me and the two guys sharing a bed together, but then again, there really was no worry on that front. Dean loves me like a sibling and Vincent hates my ever loving guts, so, ta-dah! No issues for orgies there.

  "How did I end up in the middle again?" I complained as I tried to get comfortable, sandwiched between Dean and Vincent on the twin beds we'd had to push together to accommodate all three of us. "And why aren't one of you sleeping on the couch or the floor?" I grumped, just to grump.

  I'm such a butt sometimes.

  "Shut up and be thankful I haven't eaten any dairy today, midget," Dean grumbled over his shoulder as he nudged me with his butt.

  NO! Anything but that! "Please don't." I whimpered the words out helplessly as I inched a little bit away from him and his dangerous derriere. "I don't think my sinuses could handle it!" I pleaded, referring to Dean's lactose intolerance. That man on dairy was like sleeping next to a dog on an all chili diet. Duck and cover, people! I should really invest in a gas mask, I thought offhandedly.

  "Would both of you shut up," Vincent growled out from his spot on the opposite side of me. "You two chatter incessantly! You're like god damned magpies over there. Some of us are actually trying to sleep over here!"

  "What a grump," I whispered to Dean, well aware that Vinny boy over there could hear every word.

  "I should forewarn you," Dean said seriously, "Stuffy is a closet cuddler, so beware."

  "Bologna," I giggled out and poked Dean in the butt cheek, cracking up when he jumped and almost fell off the bed.

  "No, really," he said seriously as he got back on the bed completely, half hanging off from his jerky jump, trying to get comfortable, grunting as he tried to slap my butt-poking fingers away.