A/N:

Hi, as I'm rushing to finish this, everything is unedited.

There's a shot of a explicit at the end, warning beforehand lol.

Those waiting for smut, you're welcome.

When I came home, rustling came from the opening of my secret place until Orion, in human form, leaped from it and fell midway to my bed. That is, half his torso and most of his legs painfully on the floor with a thud.

He winced.

I sighed and his head turned, wincing into a smile. I ignored this and went to him, bending down as he tried to raise his legs but I stopped him just in time for a moan to mewl out of his lips, face scrunching up. "Keep it down. It doesn't look like it's broken, but it'd be best not to move it." I raised my head to his level, snowflakes just melting on his curls while he grinned wryly. "You know you could've kept the wolf form until you've landed safely, right?"

"I thought I could've done it a little more gracefully," he admitted.

I rolled my eyes, then assessed every inch of his skin that I could see.

He titled his head. "You're staring. Why are you staring?"

"Marga told us about a werewolf that's been causing the hunters trouble." I stared at him, assessed every emotion that flickered. "A werewolf that managed to even bother Hunter enough that he wasn't at the diner today."

"Poor bastard." He tilted his head, mouth twitching.

"Which one I wonder?"

"The one who couldn't seen you today."

I blinked. "What?"

Orion smiled softly. "Nothing, come on. Help me up. Let's go make dinner."

I pursed my lips. "Fine. But didn't you win? Shouldn't you just lay on the couch and enjoy being the Pizza King winner?" I offered my hand and he grasped it tightly, pulling his weight before he stood and towered over me.

"Sometimes, even the king has to mingle with his subjects."

I let go of his hand, clenching my fist. He was so warm. I wonder how snow could possibly stick without immediately melting. Without turning back, I muttered, "Just stay safe, okay?"

"I've been making sure to keep them in circles. I'm actually having fun."

I went around the counter, arching an eyebrow. "Fun, is it?"

"I promise you dear, they won't touch this." He threw in a wink for good measures.

I stared at him for far longer than necessary. Then hiccuped. Turning around, I murmured, "Better clean up though. Hunter is coming up for dinner on Christmas Eve."

"What?"

"It's tradition for us. He'll be relaxing with his family for Christmas but on Christmas Eve, we share a dinner. This dates back when my nonna was still alive, and I guess Hunter felt it necessary to keep doing it even after she's passed. Don't worry, it'll be like potluck. He'll bring his own food."

He arched an eyebrow. "Then should I prepare?"

"If you want. No desserts though... or stew. Pick your own. Hunter will most likely either bring a part of his mother's lasagna or something fried, so you'll need to find something else."

"Well, okay on that too, but I was thinking more of the us thing. The me and you thing."

"The me and you thing?"

"Should I act romantic or aloof? Romantic, right? If I'm still here. You wouldn't keep me if I was aloof."

I whirled towards him, my eyes narrowing. "Where is all this flirting coming from?"

He blinked at me like a deer caught in headlights. And then, the unmistakable blood rushing to his ears. My mouth twitched and as he noticed, I spun back, facing my back around him.

"Uh, Bree -"

"Pick a recipe. I'll cook dinner." I turned a little and showed him my raised eyebrow. "Go, your majesty."

When I turned back, starting to fix my ingredients for tonight's noodles, I clenched and unclenched my fingers, ignoring the way my heart thudded erratically in my chest.

- - -

Christmas Eve came without a hitch.

Snow only drizzled softly as I started working on recipes for dinner. My nonna had made me kitchen head for as long as I can remember; she wasn't a cook or a baker herself. In fact, when she was in charge, food was something consumed as quickly as you made it. Nutrients were seen anywhere, all you have to do is make do with what you have.

But one day Eva, Elise's mom, a picture of normalcy years before the werewolf attack that ruined not just her face but her family, gave nonna a cookbook. I had flipped through it, awed by the pictures and words. I tried the easiest recipe I could find with ingredients we already had - a basic brownie batter - and made one.

It was half cooked but the feeling as I was making everything, adhering to a set of rules that was supposed to be precise, made me feel powerful. And as soon as my nonna found my cooking had potential, whenever she went to the market, she'd poke around the used-books and bring me old cookbooks.

Christmas Eve was my day.

As I buried myself in a kitchen wondered with smells, Orion apologized.

"I have to get going - usual distracting the hunters route."

"Have you picked a recipe you're going to do tonight?"

Orion raised an eyebrow as he stood beside me over the overflow of ingredients and cookbooks with pages held by masking tape so the recipes would stay put. "I don't think I have anything to cook. Are you sure it's just three of us eating?"

I waved this away. "Leftovers are for reheating. And sometimes I stack up because the guys at the diner would want some too."

He snorted. "Do you always feed the town?"

"It's nothing new. You have the appetite of a town."

His grin turned wolfish. "I promise I will repay all of this in kind, mark my words."

"What?"

"Nothing." But his smile did not say nothing. "Really gotta go." Just as I thought he left, he leaned in, closing the distance that my hands clenched over the potatoes I was holding. I stood straight as a statute. "Hopefully you'll like my gift, little bee."

Then he was gone, laughing as he left through the front door.

I inhaled and exhaled, trying to make sense of the light headedness and the way my knees felt so weak all of a sudden.

Brielle Amon, what is going on?

Because sure as shit do I not know what's going on.

Suddenly, I was very afraid of what this dinner entails.

- - -

Orion arrived sometime just before dinner. I had changed into one of the few nice clothes I own - a red dress in short sleeves and the pattern of trees just by the hem that builds up to the top of the skirt. The bodice is tight on the waist and it flutters just above my knee that I wondered if I should really wear it with about seven different meals I made for tonight, but immediately shook my head on that.

If I can't finish that, I have two boys with the appetite of a bodybuilder's cheat day.

Orion came through my secret hideaway again, only totting a paper bag this time. In human form, his eyes widened at me.

"What is that?"

"My gift," he answered automatically. "Bree you look..."

I swallowed.

His eyes met mine, turning soft. "You look gorgeous."

I felt myself heat up but despite it, I smiled softly. "Thanks."

"Don't worry, I'm dressing up too as to not be the odd one out." He stuffed the paper bag on the top shelf of my bookshelf and gave me a stern look. "Don't peek. I'm going to take a shower and change."

I rolled my eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He smiled. "You really look amazing, Bree."

As he locked the bathroom, pulling in his backpack for good measures, I went back to setting the table back. As soon as I was done, turning off the oven but left my muffins in. The cake was perfectly cooling on the counter, my good plates out, everything was perfect.

Fifteen minutes later, a musical set of knocks pounded on the door.

Opening the door, I smiled at Hunter, his hands coupled together to hold the familiar lasagna. "And you're still wearing your hunting gear."

He smiled. "Merry Christmas Eve to you too. Can I get in or should I leave and change?"

I stepped away to let him in and made a face. "But didn't you came to your house to get the lasagna? Why didn't you change?"

He fluffed out the snow off his hair as he settled the lasagna on the empty spot on the full table. "Thought I'd get here late. The snow's starting to pick up, and then I also thought I looked good in all black?"

He posed with a pout on the floor length mirror. It was very Marilyn Monroe.

I blinked at him. "Please stop."

Hunter laughed and gave me a hug all of a sudden, clutching me like a doll and even swinging me a little. "Merry, Merry Christmas Eve, little bee Brielle." I sniffed his neck and he pulled into a stop. "Uh... what are you doing?"

"Smelling you." I sniffed again. "Did you get drunk?"

"Aunt Marjorie may have cracked a few bottles of tequila and forced her nephews and nieces who were old enough to take a couple of shots, especially the one who may or may not be trying to leave early?"

I sighed. "Great. A half drunk friend and a - "

Like an omen to a suspicious conclusion to what this dinner entailed, Orion opened the bathroom door with nothing but a towel wrapped around the bottom half of his torso while Hunter's arms were still around me.

Shock in both their faces would be an underestimate.

Fresh hell, fresh hell, why does this feel like fresh hell?

Before I could swallow or untangle myself in Hunter's arms as if this spelled wrong all of a sudden, Orion's mouth twisted into a smirk, his face shifting back to the very first time we met. That hooded, sleazy look that made ants and spiders crawl up my arms.

He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

"Ménage à trois, anyone?"

Hunter sputtered. I blinked and burrowed myself slowly in shame.

Fresh hell. This is fresh hell.