Work Text:
Eggnog slides between your lips, scorching your mouth and warming your body in a hug unlike any other. You wonder how he got the recipe so perfectly modern, the kind you’d have back home with your Earth family. Your next sip is a little more inquisitive as you taste to see if he added any alcohol. To your surprise, he didn’t.
Half of the people in your wizard tower are those you met on your many adventurers. From Boblin the Goblin to your fellow party members awkwardly shuffling near each other and exchanging thoughtful, if rushed, gifts. Christmas is not a common holiday in the Realms, but your friends have done their best to follow your instructions. Your barbarian friend couldn’t decide on which tree felt the most Yuletide, so she instead brought five. All of which have taken up a good portion of your living room corner.
The other half of the attendants come from him.
Demons the likes of which prophecy is written discuss politics and current events with equal civility to your family back on Earth. On a few issues, you can hear some of them perhaps being just a little more forward-thinking before mentioning their favorite blood ritual. Despite the mix of alignments, the demons are well-behaved with the friends you openly consort with, even passing a few jokes your party awkwardly laughs at. Only the Paladin, white-knuckling your “Certified Wizard Classic” mug has you worried about a fight breaking out.
You jerk your head up as something grasps your shoulder from behind. You can barely make out his features even in the light of your home. His onyx skin makes him a living shadow defined only by the creases in his muscles and the green in his eyes.
“Merry Christmas,” he sighs in a low tone. From the looks of the others, they noticed him at the same time you did. Fashionably late and childishly overdramatic with his entrance, as always.
You greet him before mentioning his tardiness.
“Would you believe I was nervous?”
No, you do not.
Graz’zt leans his arm against the wall after moving around you. He’s mercifully dressed, although the way his dark velvet finery reveals his muscular chest is more than a little provocative. As your eyes trail down, you notice that the robes never tie together. Instead the only thing covering his lower half is a long and thin loin cloth overtop of surely no other fabric. With every choice in attire he dares those in his presence to watch and fantasize. It’s what first got you on his radar.
“You look good,” Graz’zt says, bringing a cup of eggnog to his lips that you didn’t see before. “How’s the weather?”
Ah, yes, an in-joke. Many times Graz’zt has told you of his hatred for small talk, or as he calls it, ‘edging without intent.’ Any of his seemingly inane topics are a warning of his palpable hunger. You clear your throat before standing and instructing him to remain seated.
“Is that an order?”
You don’t respond, walking briskly to your work table and sifting through the presents until you find Graz'zt’s. It’s thin, wide, easily portable to a human and likely weightless to him. You return quickly, taking a moment to scratch the back of your neck where you know he was staring.
“You shouldn’t have,” he says, eyes burning like a dog hungry for a treat. You can feel a tingle in your mind, the lapping tendrils of Graz’zt’s psychic power. You told him not to read your mind, and he agreed, with his temptation to peek resulting in palpable touches to your synapses.
Before you can sit down, he shreds the wrapping paper and holds up your gift to give it a better look. His six fingered hand runs across the smooth, clean screen, enamored by the technology not of this world. He thumbs the side, unclicking the stylus with a gleeful cry.
“What is it?” You move your chair closer to him, his body heat giving you goosebumps. Reaching over, you press the power button.
“A portal?”
With a smile, you explain how the drawing tablet works, showing him the different layers and colors to pick from and letting him know to be gentle with the unenchanted device. In minutes he was already sketching, and in the time it took you to reach over for your drink, he had already begun depicting your sleeping form in a familiar bed.
“Thank you.” Graz’zt’s smile falters for a moment from the smug grin of a multiversal villain to a man experiencing the simplest of joys. “Don’t get all high and mighty, I got you something too.”
Placing the tablet aside, he twirls his wrist and summons a small wrapped box in the palm of his hand.
“Hand wrapped.”
You give him a look.
“Mage hand counts as by hand.”
Rolling your eyes, you open the gift with measured enthusiasm so as to not seem desperate. Your heart skips a beat as you feel the soft fabric of the box. Only after taking a deep breath can you open it. A silver ring, perfectly sized for you, steals your breath. You try to choke out a response as you thumb it over. A beautiful green gemstone encrusted on the ring glows when covered by your shadow.
“It’s not just a pretty accessory,” Graz’zt says with less confidence than you’re used to from him. “While you wear it, I can’t read your mind, or find you with magic. I won’t come looking for you or try to take you away from your life.” He takes your hand, and you instinctively move your fingers apart for him to slip the ring on. “Rub the gemstone to make it glow, and that will let me know if you want to see me and where to find you.”
Graz’zt swallows before continuing. “I can’t love you the way a mortal can. Not selflessly. There will always be that hunger to have you, to take and take until you are only mine. But I can try.”
You don’t know what to say, but you know what to do. Taking his face in both your hands, you lean in and kiss him deeply. He’s warm, powerful, and dominating, yet you feel his lip quiver. The powerful, large hands of a demon lord move to your waist, stopping abruptly before his movements can get too close to your behind. With a breathless smile, you break the kiss and capture his warmth to hold to for the rest of your life.
“Merry Christmas,” he sighs.
“Merry Christmas,” you reply.
“Get a fucking room,” Boblin spits from across the room.