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Summary: A seasonal quadruple drabble (400 words) written for [livejournal.com profile] ts_secret_santa. The prompt was 'snow'.

Snow Problem
By Fluterbev

December 2006

“There’s NO business like SNOW business…”

“Blair, quieten down, okay? You’ll wake the whole building!”

“S’no problem, man. Hey, ‘snow’ problem! Get it?”

Jim sighed as Blair dissolved into giggles. Lying awake in bed, he’d been listening to Blair’s drunken singing and expansive pontificating ever since the car Blair had come home in had pulled up outside.

Tying the belt on his robe as he walked downstairs, Jim opened the front door just as Blair reached it. One hand fumbling ineffectually with his key, Blair was leaning heavily on the irritated-looking friend who had brought him home, blinking owlishly in the sudden light which flooded the hallway through the open door.

Blair’s friend – it was Mike, a fellow TA - had the grace to look a little shamefaced. “Sorry about this, Jim,” he murmured. “I never realized he was such a noisy drunk. He’s usually the designated driver at these things.”

Jim shrugged, and hooked an arm around Blair, divesting Mike of his burden. “At least he didn’t try to kiss you,” he noted. “It’s what he did to me, the last time he got in this state. He’s an affectionate little sot.”

“Hey, I’m right here, guys!” Blair protested as he was hauled inside. “And you’re the only one I want to kiss, Jim.” He swayed alarmingly. “Pucker up, soldier!” he demanded.

Jim rolled his eyes, as he saved Blair from a tumble. “Thanks Mike,” he said, as Blair’s friend made a grateful escape.

Inside, he maneuvered Blair into his bedroom. “In the deep midwinter,” Blair was singing, just off-key enough to grate on Jim’s nerves. “Long time ago…”

Working on autopilot, his hands impersonal, Jim divested Blair of boots, socks and jeans, and got him lying down on the bed. Blair continued to sing. “Snow and snow and SNOW and snow… Snow and snow and snow…”

“Don’t tell me,” Jim quipped, as Blair’s toneless serenade dwindled to a close. “It’s snowing outside, right?”

His answer was a long, drawn out snore.


The next morning, Jim grinned wryly at the pitiful sight of his partner, hunched over the table with an ice pack on his neck.

“Thanks, Jim,” Blair muttered thickly, as Jim brought him some Tylenol and juice.

“Snow problem Chief,” Jim said.

Cracking open a bloodshot eye, Blair glared at him. “That’s not remotely funny, man,” he complained grouchily.

In answer, Jim blew him a kiss.


Comments are welcome, but absolutely not necessary - all of my stories are offered freely and without obligation. If you do wish to comment below please sign your name/pseudonym if you are not logged-in to Dreamwidth or Open ID, or alternatively you can email me at fluterbev@gmail.com

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Date: 2007-08-03 05:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] klgrem.livejournal.com
LMAO. So cute. :)

Noticed one small mistake, though I don't know if it matters.

The next morning, Jim ginned wryly at the pitiful

Should be Jim 'grinned' wryly? Though I suppose he could have had gin... ;)

Date: 2007-08-04 08:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fluterbev-fic.livejournal.com
Thanks again!

And thanks so much for the catch. I'm always happy when people point out mistakes - despite having read this through a million times, I didn't see it until you told me! LOL

Mind you, I could do with some of that gin myself ;-)

Date: 2007-08-04 08:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] klgrem.livejournal.com
Hehe. :)


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