At · Kiamo · Ko...

Lurlinemas was not necessarily something that he celebrated in the religious sort of way, but the fact was that he knew there was also this 'Christmas' coming up, and he wasn't so daft as to think that Liir wouldn't feel at least a bit left out if they didn't do something.

He had mustered up the semblance of cooking skills that he had acquired to make them a small dinner - rolls being his most impressive achievement - along with a chicken and broccoli dish that he hoped would pass his son's discriminating tastes. The present had been a bit more difficult, but in the end he had settled on a companion for the young man in case things went pear-shaped as they were wont to do.

Unfortunately, the nature of the present made it a little hard to hide -- which was the reason that a very oddly shaped box was sitting in the corner of the room, facing the wall (the side facing wasn't wrapped, and the paper really only covered the kennel vaguely).

Now what was left? To wait for Liir, he supposed.

He'd returned home after seeking out Millie as he'd told Liir that he was going to. Fiyero had walked by the hotel and contemplated going inside before realizing that he actually rather liked staying with Geoffrey, and he found also that the other man probably ate much better when he was there.

So it was a win/win situation, correct? No need to change something like that.

Absently licking his lips, he glanced toward the entrance of the theatre and drummed his fingers on his knee. He knew that Liir had left in a hurry that morning because he'd been more than a little confused by the situation, but he couldn't help the niggling feeling that 'I'd like to speak to you when you have the chance' was a thinly veiled 'I really would like to speak to you now, but don't feel as if asking would be appropriate seeing as we've just met and I probably share a great many characteristics with my mother'.

Which was why Fiyero had resolved to talk Liir into ... talking when he dropped off dinner tonight, and the reason why he was just a little anxious for said visit.

He wasn't terribly experienced with giving fatherly advice, after all.

Fiyero was entirely accustomed to waking up very early in the morning with the taste of sleep (yes, you all know the one) in his mouth.

He was not, however, accustomed to waking up to hot, dry spices on his tongue. Warm cinnamon and dried chili flakes, freshly cracked peppercorns and ... was that ... chocolate?

Fiyero sat bolt-upright in his bed (read: the pillows and blankets he'd set up atop Tamora's cape) and rubbed his fingers over his tongue in an attempt to purge the odd combination of flavors from his mouth. Much to his surprise, this only intensified the flavors.

...upon second blush, they didn't taste so bad together.

Unfortunately, it still felt rather like he was going a little mad. Uncomfortable with the idea, Fiyero licked from the inside of his elbow straight up to his wrist.

Yep, still flavored.

"Geoffrey!"

Beat.

"Geoffrey, I've turned FLAVORED! COME AND LICK MY ARM!" Nevermind that it was probably obscenely early and said Geoffrey Tennant was in all likelihood asleep.