Deck the Halls
folder
S through Z › Willard
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,426
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Willard
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,426
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Willard, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Deck the Halls
A/N: Crispin Glover is one sexy mofo. I have a few other stories in the works, but I just wanted to put this up just in case. *WIP*
“Christmas…”
The word came as a sigh, as if she were out of breath, or holding it. Her voice startled him nonetheless. A word which should have brought to mind colored ribbons and the scent of pine, should have made his tongue ache for chocolate-chip cookies and mint candies, made him shudder instead. There would be no Christmas dinner at his home, just as there hadn’t been since his father had…died. Just another lonely night in front of the television with mother, watching It’s a Wonderful Life.
“Are you going to the office party, Willard?”
To see my fellow employees get drunk and make fools of themselves? So Mr. Martin can put on a Santa suit and have Ms. Leach sit on his lap? I’d rather lick the company toilet…
“I d-don’t plan to,” was all he could manage. Cathryn tossed him a wry smile. Her lips were some combination of crimson and cranberry.
“And why not? How long have you been at this place, anyway?”
He thought back to the first time he had entered the office as an employee: same puke-green walls, same rickety desks with coffee-rings and chipped Formica tops. Nineteen years old, just graduated high school, doomed to the desk at the back of the room for the rest of his life.
“A while,” he tried to smile back. She wasn’t buying it.
“Have you ever been to the Christmas party?” Cathryn picked up her mug, which smelled of rose petal and jasmine tea (or maybe just rose petals, and it was she that smelled of jasmine).
Willard allowed his eyes to meet hers, “Once or twice. It’s…not very interesting.”
She winked at him, “I’m sure I could make it more interesting. I might be a temp, but I should be allowed to go.” A pause. “You could always bring me, Willard.”
God how he loved the way she said his name. The lilt of Spain or maybe Columbia as she flicked the “el” sounds from her tongue. He felt his face blushing a shade comparable to that of her lipstick. The blush deepened when he thought about all of the bad, naughty thing he wanted her to do with that mouth; things that he knew he shouldn’t think about, but couldn’t help himself.
“Would you…would you go with me? Just to…just so I’m not…alone.” Willard finished his statement at little more than a whisper. Cathryn smiled at him, showing nearly all of her teeth.
“Of course I will. We’ll have a good time,” she winked again, this time he saw the tip of her pink tongue over her berry-colored lips. Willard gulped, feeling a dip in his gut, the tug of his trousers that, for some reason, were feeling rather tight…
“Christmas…”
The word came as a sigh, as if she were out of breath, or holding it. Her voice startled him nonetheless. A word which should have brought to mind colored ribbons and the scent of pine, should have made his tongue ache for chocolate-chip cookies and mint candies, made him shudder instead. There would be no Christmas dinner at his home, just as there hadn’t been since his father had…died. Just another lonely night in front of the television with mother, watching It’s a Wonderful Life.
“Are you going to the office party, Willard?”
To see my fellow employees get drunk and make fools of themselves? So Mr. Martin can put on a Santa suit and have Ms. Leach sit on his lap? I’d rather lick the company toilet…
“I d-don’t plan to,” was all he could manage. Cathryn tossed him a wry smile. Her lips were some combination of crimson and cranberry.
“And why not? How long have you been at this place, anyway?”
He thought back to the first time he had entered the office as an employee: same puke-green walls, same rickety desks with coffee-rings and chipped Formica tops. Nineteen years old, just graduated high school, doomed to the desk at the back of the room for the rest of his life.
“A while,” he tried to smile back. She wasn’t buying it.
“Have you ever been to the Christmas party?” Cathryn picked up her mug, which smelled of rose petal and jasmine tea (or maybe just rose petals, and it was she that smelled of jasmine).
Willard allowed his eyes to meet hers, “Once or twice. It’s…not very interesting.”
She winked at him, “I’m sure I could make it more interesting. I might be a temp, but I should be allowed to go.” A pause. “You could always bring me, Willard.”
God how he loved the way she said his name. The lilt of Spain or maybe Columbia as she flicked the “el” sounds from her tongue. He felt his face blushing a shade comparable to that of her lipstick. The blush deepened when he thought about all of the bad, naughty thing he wanted her to do with that mouth; things that he knew he shouldn’t think about, but couldn’t help himself.
“Would you…would you go with me? Just to…just so I’m not…alone.” Willard finished his statement at little more than a whisper. Cathryn smiled at him, showing nearly all of her teeth.
“Of course I will. We’ll have a good time,” she winked again, this time he saw the tip of her pink tongue over her berry-colored lips. Willard gulped, feeling a dip in his gut, the tug of his trousers that, for some reason, were feeling rather tight…