Luck of the Irish - a Christmas Sucks one-shot
















Donnell MacAindris stood on the bridge and glared out over the green-dyed river, fuming and furious. The cause of his extreme bad mood was standing next to him, excitedly commenting on the boats racing down the water, leaving a greenish froth in their wake. The vampire bared his teeth in a silent snarl, contemplated ripping out his lover Kieran O’Mara’s intestines and choking him with them.

 He should have known. He really should have known. He KNEW how Kieran was about just about every holiday on the calendar, and of course he knew that it was March…but he hadn’t glanced at a calendar. From now on, he was buying one and hanging it on the wall of the apartment, so that he could keep track of the various holidays that his lover was sure to get overexcited about. But for now…he just had to get through today without killing Kieran, which was not going to be an easy task at all. Curse St. Patrick’s Day!

Of course the human mage was going wayyy overboard for this best of holidays - I.e., the one celebrating his and Donnell’s heritage. It had started over a week ago, when the mage had begun decorating their apartment with everything from huge shamrocks to fake pots of gold and pictures of leprechauns. At the same time, he’d started listening to traditional Irish songs all of the time, including long ballads played on uilleann pipes. The high, skirling notes of these traditional Irish bagpipes tended to get on Donnell’s nerves, as his ears were quite sensitive. He gritted his teeth whenever Kieran turned on one of his tapes, and generally retreated into one of the other rooms or left the apartment altogether.

It had all culminated today with these horrible outfits that Kieran had insisted that they wear for the big yearly St. Patty’s Day parade that took place downtown. Donnell had balked completely when he’d seen what it was that Kieran wanted him to wear, but somehow or other he’d ended up donning it anyway. How did Kieran do this? Was it a magic spell? Did he cast one that made the vampire do whatever he wanted? If so, he’d definitely have to kill Kieran or he’d probably go mad at sometime in the near future.

One of his hands rose to touch the front of the green velvet frock coat, contemplating ripping it off his back and tossing it into the river. He also wore green velvet knee breeches, green-and-white striped ribbed socks that came to his knees, and black low heeled shoes with gold buckles on the top. A checked green waistcoat and a frothy white shirt completed the ensemble. He was aware that he looked like deranged leprechaun, and had a silent urge to bash Kieran in the ear with his pot o’ gold.

The rest of the outfit wasn’t as bad as what was sitting on his head, thought. Donnell hated the hat most of all. It was a green plastic bowler with green glitter all over it that sparkled, a green velvet hat band, and a huge plastic shamrock bobbing on a spring attached to the band. This shamrock bobbed around every time he took a step. Donnell growled to himself at this thought, his slim hands gripping the railing of the bridge tight enough that it was a wonder that the metal didn’t bend.

Kieran sighed happily beside him. “Wow, this is going to be awesome!” he chortled.

Donnell lifted his eyes to the heavens in a silent plea for both help and patience. He glanced briefly over at his lover, whose outfit was only slightly less ridiculous than his own. Kieran was wearing a light green sweater decorated with hundreds of dark green shamrocks, a matching Irish kilt, a pair of socks similar to the ones that Donnell had on, and a pair of the black shoes with the gold buckles on them. Strings of shiny green plastic beads were draped around his neck, along with a necklace of plastic shamrocks. A large button that read ‘Kiss me, I’m Irish’ was fastened to the front of the sweater, and another of the immensely stupid green bowler hats was perched rakishly atop his head.

Donnell shook his head. Kieran called: “Let’s go and watch the parade, Donnell!” and grabbed the vampire’s velvet sleeve.

He let himself be dragged along without struggling, knowing it was easier than protesting. Kieran was deceptively strong, and they ended up on the sidewalk along the parade route. Somehow a hole opened up for them(magic, Donnell suspected shrewdly) until they were standing right at the front. The vampire cringed at the jostling crowds surrounding them, but Kieran’s fingers did something subtle and people suddenly pulled away from them until it was just he and Kieran standing there alone with a small space open around them. The mage grinned down at him, putting an arm around his shoulders. The happy light in his eyes made Donnell feel rather bad about hating this holiday so much, and he vowed silently to put up with whatever Kieran came up with for the rest of the day. It was only one day of the year, after all.

Kieran twiddled his fingers, and was suddenly holding a glass of green-tinted ale. He offered it to Donnell, who grimaced and shook his head. He didn’t like either the smell or taste of alcohol now that he was a vampire, and it wasn’t as though he could digest it anyway. Kieran shrugged and took a sip, an expression of bliss settling onto his face. They heard loud music, and both looked down the street to see the parade approaching them. Kieran’s hand squeezed his arm, and Donnell tried to let himself relax and just enjoy the day as much as he could. At least he was here with his lover, a huge sea change from last year at this time.

This thought brought a small smile to his face, and his black eyes lost their angry, surly look and turned rather misty. Kieran’s fingers stroked his arm as the mage smiled down at him, so intent on his lover that he almost missed the parade altogether. Donnell was adorable when he got all soft and gentle like this, and the mage loved to see him this way. How could this day get any better?

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Donnell staggered into their apartment later that day, holding up a weaving Kieran O’Mara. The vampire’s scowl was firmly back in place, and he dumped his lover unceremoniously down on the couch. “Daft Merlin,” he snarled.

Kieran blinked groggily up at him. “Wash wrong, Donnell?” he slurred happily.

The vampire folded his arms over his chest and glared down at his lover. “YOU are what is wrong, Kieran O’Mara,” he snapped. “You stink,” he added, waving a hand in front of his nose elaborately. “You’re drunk.”

Kieran considered this statement. “Yesh,” he decided after a moment. “I’m drunk! Come an’ give me a kish, Donnell!”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” he remarked dryly. “I don’t want a contact drunk.”

Kieran giggled. “But you’d be sooo cute drunk,” he said. “Then you wooshn’t scowl at me all the timesh.”

Donnell felt a twinge of unhappiness lance through him. He turned his back on his lover. “I am as I am, Kieran,” he said stiffly.

Silence behind him, then he jumped a bit as hands settled on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Donnell,” Kieran said softly. “I like you just as you are, I swear.”

He turned back around to find a clear-eyed Kieran looking down at him soberly. Definitely soberly - he didn’t appear to be drunk anymore. Donnell peered up at him. “You’re not drunk,” he said aloud.

Kieran shook his head. “I can use my magic to clean all of the alcohol out of my system,” he explained. “I just like to get drunk once in awhile, but I don’t have to stay that way. No hangovers, either,” he added with a grin.

Donnell snorted. “ I should have known,” he said dryly.

Kieran nodded. “Yeah. But Donnell, I’m serious. I really do like you just as you are, scowls and all. Its just you being you - and I adore you. All the way from the top of your head,” his fingers boinged the shamrock, making it sway, “To the tips of your tiny toes. I wouldn’t want you to change anything.”

He felt that peculiar melting sensation in his stomach that he often got when Kieran sweet-talked him or even sometimes just looked at him. “I wouldn’t change anything about you either, Kieran,” he said somberly, “Not even your weird obsessions with holidays. Even though they’re sometimes very hard on me…” he added with a grimace.

Kieran chuckled. “I know, and I’ve gotta thank you for your patience with me.” he suddenly swept Donnell up in his long arms and carried the vampire over to the couch, sitting down with Donnell straddling his lap. “But you’re just so cute dressed like this!” he said, his eyes sweeping over his lover. “And I promise not to say anything about ‘Lucky Charms’,” he went on with a wicked light in his eyes.

Donnell scowled down at him. “That’s not funny,” he pouted.

“Sorry,” Kieran said contritely, “I couldn’t help myself,” he pulled Donnell down for a kiss, and somewhere in the middle he forgot his ire completely. He could never stay angry at Kieran for long anyway, and the mage was such a skilled kisser than Donnell’s brains tended to melt and run out of his ears whenever he was kissed by his lover. He was panting and rather dewy-eyed when Kieran finally drew back, and the mage smiled tenderly up at him. “So cute. And so very, very sexy,” he said throatily, his fingers busy at the front of the waistcoat.

Donnell said nothing to this as Kieran’s fingers stripped him of the clothes that he was very happy to get out of. The coat was pushed off his shoulders, and the shirt ended up on the floor. Kieran’s long fingers settled on the lump in the front of the velvet knee breeches and stroked it as though petting a small animal. He moaned, his back arching to offer more of himself to Kieran.

A warm, wet mouth closed over one of his nipples and began to suck at it. Donnell clutched at Kieran’s shoulders and cried out as teeth nibbled at the rucked peak delicately. “Do you want me to keep going slow?” Kieran purred against his skin before licking at his unattended nipple tenderly. “Or fast and furious?”

Donnell gasped, his fingers digging into the sweater. “The latter,” he growled, now so worked up that he didn’t want slow anymore.

A chuckle. “Okay, master. Here goes,” and Kieran snapped his fingers.

Their clothes disappeared, leaving both of them naked on the couch together. Except…he reached up to feel the top of his head. Donnell turned an outraged look on his lover when he discovered that he was still wearing that wretched bowler hat! “Sorry, but I just like the way it looks on you,” Kieran told him apologetically. “Will you wear it for me this time? Please?”

It was the ‘please’ that got to him. He could never deny Kieran anything when he begged. Donnell sighed and lowered his hand. “Very well, “he said resignedly.

“Thanks!“ Kieran crowed, grabbing him and pulling him close. “You rock, Donnell.”

He allowed the mage to kiss him deeply, their tongues twining together. Hands slid down his bare back and squeezed his buttocks, making him moan into their lip lock. He rubbed his erection against Kieran’s stomach, leaving a trail of reddish wetness on the human’s skin. A finger probed at his anus, rubbing at the ring. Donnell moved his hips, wanting so much more. he felt as though he were on fire. He pulled back and looked into Kieran’s lust-hazed eyes. “I want you inside of me,” he growled, flashing his fangs.

The human gasped. He knew just how worked up his lover must already be to let his fangs descend so early in their lovemaking. His cock twitched in anticipation of being buried in Donnell’s sweet, hot tightness. He made lube come to his fingers hurriedly, and Donnell growled in satisfaction when the small tube appeared in Kieran’s hand. The mage squirted some onto his hand and reached around to thrust his fingers inside of Donnell, who moaned and threw his head back. The mage fingered his lover swiftly, while Donnell rocked on his fingers and made animal sounds that had Kieran wondering dimly if he was going to explode.

He kissed and licked at Donnell’s nipples as he swiftly stretched and lubed his hole, and the vampire shuddered in his lap and began to growl softly. Kieran pulled his fingers free, knowing what Donnell wanted - and happy to give it to him. He set his hands on the slim hips and guided Donnell into place. The vampire snarled and pushed downward, taking him in so sweetly that Kieran cried out and jerked. He was buried to the hilt, and the vampire was squeezing his muscles around Kieran in a manner that made him shudder and whimper.

Donnell grabbed his shoulders tightly and began to ride him hard. The black eyes were feral, and his lips drew up off his fangs as he took his pleasure. Kieran was entranced, especially since the wild creature atop him was still wearing that ridiculous green plastic bowler hat atop his head. It looked incongruous, the shamrock bobbing as Donnell plunged up and down on him. He grunted, holding onto Donnell’s hips and losing himself in the amazing coupling taking place between them.

The black eyes were burning now. Donnell’s head darted forward, and Kieran cried out as his fangs broke the tender skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Donnell began to suck, a greedy pull that made his whole body spasm helplessly. Oh, God, he was going to die! And who the hell cared anyway?

Donnell let forth a long, descending moan of sound as his body went rigid and he began to come. As his reddish semen splattered out over Kieran’s bare stomach, the mage cried out loudly and found his own end in the tightening, spasming hole that he was buried in. Donnell stilled atop him, spent, and the mage was glad that he was sitting down since his legs felt like rubber. He lay limply on the couch with Donnell draped atop him, both of them breathing heavy.

After a moment, a tongue began to tenderly lick at the puncture marks he’d left in Kieran’s skin. The human moaned breathily but didn’t move, knowing that his lover was using his saliva to speed up the healing in the wounds. His lidded eyes watched Donnell’s face, taking in its beauty. The vampire’s pale skin was flushed, his black eyes dreamy, his dark curls sticking to his skin from sweat under the bowler hat. Sated Donnell was even more beautiful than normal Donnell. He ran his hands possessively up and down his lover’s bare back. “I love you, Donnell,” he murmured.

The vampire stopped licking him and looked up at him through a set of startlingly long and thick black lashes. His lips lifted in a small smile at the mage’s words. “And I love you, Kieran,” he replied just as softly. “Very much.”

Kieran embraced him, snuggling the vampire against him and knocking the stupid hat off of his head. He wanted to run a hand through the black curls tenderly, and the hat was in the way. “Happy St. Patty’s Day, Donnell,” Kieran said. “It's good to be Irish today,” he added.

The vampire laid his head on Kieran’s shoulder. “Yes, it is,” he agreed simply.