"So," Walter looked down. "You are crazy, you know."

"Yeah, so what?"

"So nothing. It's just..."

"Well, spit it out!"

"Buttered rice." Walter sounded resigned.

"It tastes good."

"Yeah," Walter drawled, "but..."

"Let me enjoy myself, Walter."

Walter Skinner sighed. His boyfriend was so weird. It was all his fault, though. He'd pestered Alex to tell him what he wanted for Christmas, and finally, Alex had. It wasn't Alex's fault Walter hadn't believed him, but who in their right mind really wanted to eat hot buttered rice off their lover's body? No one Walter had heard of.

Alex, of course, just had to be different. He loved rice with butter. It was a childhood favorite, one of the few good memories he retained from the Dickensian existence of his formative years. Walter prepared it once a week without fail, but Alex, finally feeling confident enough to push for more, took advantage of the opportunity when it arose. Besides, it wasn't like Walter didn't know how much he liked it. Way back in October he'd sighed and put on his most hangdog expression, letting his eyes twinkle to show that he was not as disappointed as he pretended. "The cook always put parsley on top," he'd said.

He was manipulating shamelessly but if Walter knew, he didn't seem to mind. He'd dutifully put parsley on his grocery list, washed it, chopped it, sprinkled it on, only to have Alex turn up his nose at it.

"You said parsley." Walter was a little irritated. He did all the cooking, with Alex occasionally helping out around the edges. Usually he enjoyed himself, but now he felt his extra efforts were going unappreciated.

"It didn't look like this." Alex was genuinely bewildered, staring at Walter with a plaintively confused expression.

The rice had been served plain for several weeks until Walter had an epiphany. He brought home a jar of dried parsley flakes and sprinkled some on top.

"This is it!" Alex looked transported. "This is exactly what it smelled like!"

He'd gobbled up the rice with such a rapturous expression that Walter had been very touched, and rather pleased that such a small thing made his boyfriend happy.

It was the only reason he'd agreed, when he finally realized Alex was in earnest about his Christmas gift request.

"You won't have to give me another present, ever," Alex tried to bargain because the expression on Walter's face told him his request was really was pushing it.

Walter didn't believe him. Alex was adapting to regular life at a rapid clip. He'd probably get used to the idea of presents sooner than he thought. Normal presents. Ties, sweaters, gift certificates...

But, okay, fine. Rice it was. Still half-skeptical, Walter woke up Christmas morning and covered the living room floor with two layers of new plastic tarp. He cooked a big pot of rice with butter, pepper and parsley, then he let it cool enough that it wouldn't burn his flesh when it came in contact with it. Then he stripped, lay himself down on the tarp and called Alex.

Who'd given him a gap-jawed grin that made all his skepticism disappear. So his boyfriend really wanted to eat hot buttered rice off his body? It wasn't too strange. He supposed. But Walter still had to tweak him a little. After all, he was the one lying, rice-covered and sticky, in a patch of weak winter sunlight while being licked and suckled.

"You're nuts." He murmured fondly.

"Your nuts." Alex gently stroked his fingers over same. He scooped a large handful of rice onto Walter's balls, and packed it lightly into shape. Soon Walter's testicles were covered in glistening rice, and Alex was admiring his handiwork. Walter's torso gleamed. Flecks of dried parsley flakes covered his entire chest and abdomen. Amusement, arousal, and total exasperation crossed his face by turns, but mostly he watched Alex with a tolerant fondness that Alex savored even more than the buttered rice.

"I don't care if I'm crazy. This is the best gift I could ever get."

"I'm beginning to believe you." Walter reached out and took Alex's hand. He pulled it to his cheek for a moment then relaxed his arm so Alex could more easily lean over him.

"Mm." Alex bent down to Walter's groin and began licking and nibbling again. Soon Walter was making odd snorts and gasps. They were very unWalter-like sounds. Alex looked up.

"You're actually giggling?"

"It tickles," Walter excused himself. "I'll try to be still."

"God, Walter," Alex still hadn't let go of his hand. "If you could only taste this. The butter and the rice and you altogether. I have a birthday coming up, you know."

"No! Once a year is my absolute limit for the whole rice on my balls thing."

"Too bad." Alex went back to feasting. "'Cause it's the most wonderful, special, fantastic... wonderful treat in the world."

"Yeah," Walter cracked, "and the rice is pretty good too. Made it myself."

They shared a grin, then Alex bent to his task in earnest. He ate like a pig, getting rice all over his face, snuffling into the yielding flesh of Walter's skin as he licked the rice and the scent of Walter into his mouth. It was as close to nirvana as he'd ever experienced because he'd always dreamed of this: the chance to lose himself completely in the experience of having all he ever wanted of something; to bury himself hip deep, chest deep, neck deep into the indulgence of his choosing. It was a hungry child's fantasy--'If only I could eat all the rice in the world...'--a deep-seated need to make a wish come true. He wasn't sure he could explain himself adequately, so he settled for letting Walter believe he was just kinky and strange. Nonetheless, this gift meant a great deal to him. All the rice in the world; all the Walter in the world; and he could lick it and chew it and revel in it and even rub it into his hair if he felt like it. And all he could think to say was, "This is the best, Walter."

He held Walter's balls scooped in one hand while he licked salty butter off them, thinking all the while that Walter was wonderful to do this for him.

"You know, I gotta tell you," he said between mouthfuls and licks, "I don't believe in miracles, but if I did, I swear you'd be the best miracle of all."

"Jesus."

"Alex." Alex corrected. "Jesus went to heaven."

"Wiseass."

"Well, he did."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah."

After a moment Walter said, "Since we're getting soppy here, you're pretty damned miraculous yourself."

Alex paused and looked up. "Really?"

"Don't stop, boy, but yeah, really."

"Thanks." His voice was soft, and when he redoubled his efforts over Walter's groin, it was with a distinctly reverent attitude.

"Jesus," Walter repeated a few moments later. This time it had a whole different connotation.

"Oh, God." Alex had consumed all the rice and now started to work on Walter's erection. "So beautiful."

"Come up here, boy." For a bottom Walter was very bossy. "And lose that jock on the way."

"You got it." Alex stripped off his underwear and moved into Walter's open arms. The plastic tarp felt unpleasantly sticky and cool beneath his flesh, but he reminded himself that Walter had endured it for the past half hour, so he made himself ignore it. He settled against Walter's chest, physically replete, and gently horny, filled to the brim with the curious inward tickle that was urgency and satiation all at once. "That was wonderful."

"C'mere you. We'll make it even more wonderful." Walter shifted to his side and rubbed his greasy chest against Alex's. "What's Christmas without a little buttered rice in my chest hair?"

When Alex smiled, Walter leaned in. He knew the effect his kisses had, so he kissed Alex cock-eyed, feeling upwelling affection as he tasted himself, butter, rice and dried parsley on his lover's tongue. "So beautiful." He reached down to stroke Alex's hips, pulling him close. "Beautiful body. Loved watching you eat that rice. I swear I'd give it to you every night if you wanted. Fuck you breathless." The food words and the love words were tumbling together, an indication of Walter's state of mind.

Alex was starting to moan. He'd never been much on the kissing and touching stuff until Walter showed him how good it could be. He liked it, but he still didn't really know what to make of it. What he did know was that in his post-prandial Christmas languor, he could indulge feelings of affection he normally kept hidden.

"You're good to me, Walter." He threw one leg over Walter's butter-sticky thigh and ground against him. "Never expected anyone like you. Never expected you. Going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

"Yes!" Walter was shamelessly addicted to being fucked. It had bothered him at first because it didn't feel manly to let himself be penetrated, but the sheer physical pleasure of it had quickly overcome that objection. Alex put the stones to him hard, and he reveled in it, demanded all Alex had to give. He squirmed excitedly, thrusting his groin against Alex's swelling penis.

"Stop!" Alex finally demanded. "Don't wanna... not so fast."

"Did you bring...?"

"Right here." In their excitement, they resorted to shorthand, unwilling to waste energy on anything that wasn't actual fucking.

"Let me." Walter rubbed slick all over Alex's cock, then positioned himself beneath him. He canted his hips and reached down to position Alex's penis at his hole. All Alex had to do then was let gravity pull his hips forward. Alex pushed inside him and Walter moaned extravagantly, heady satisfaction in his voice. When Alex angled himself to stroke across Walter's prostate, Walter grimaced with pleasure.

Soon, all Walter could do was hang on for the ride, head back, mouth open, moaning his pleasure as Alex worked himself forward and back. Walter's sweat made him slide across the tarp but Alex just shifted his grip and kept on stroking.

'So good,' Alex thought. This was the best part, the forever part, when Walter pulled his knees back to his chest and strained to hold his thighs as wide open as possible; when he and Walter breathed in sync and looked into each others' eyes and became each others' breath and labored to create the thing Alex as yet had no name for.

'Is it actually love?' He wondered to himself. 'Is that what they mean by 'making love,' this thing we create when we do this?'

He did not spare the breath to ask, which was just as well because Walter was in no condition to form a coherent thought. All his brains were down in his ass somewhere and he was fucking back for all he was worth, trying to hold onto Alex and brace himself and cradle his balls and stroke his cock at the same time and he muttered random thoughts as he tried to keep the angle perfect for the magic, gliding strokes that were transporting him, one millimeter at a time into heaven.

"Butter... Alex... butter... so good..." Walter was huffing and puffing now, trying to bring the orgasm faster than it wanted to come. He was straining for it, working for it, fighting desperately, sweat and butter pouring off him while above him Alex tried to keep his pace relentlessly even, knowing that the metronomic consistency drove Walter insane with urgency.

Walter and butter and rice and everything he wanted, and Gods above it was so good and Alex was losing it, trying to pretend he was anywhere else but inside Walter's body, dazed and overwhelmed with all the feelings and thank God Walter was... yes... when he was about to come he tilted his head back and to the right and he caught his breath, and yes, there were the contractions at last around his cock and he kept his eyes open even though sweat ran down his face and stung his eyes because there was nothing like, nothing like Walter arching up and falling back, completely overcome, and now that Walter was done Alex almost wasn't interested anymore except his body was, yes, right there, and then he was following Walter up and into oblivion, and all he knew anymore was his pounding heart and a tangle of sweaty limbs and a sense of exalted, all-pervading peace.

Dazed and exhausted, too weak to move, they clung to one another and gasped for breath.

"I don't ever want to do that again. I think I broke something," Alex grumped. He had to make himself sound like he was complaining because he couldn't cop to the transcendent feelings he'd just experienced.

Which gave Walter permission to do exactly that, because they had kind of a rule that one person could get sappy, but not both together. "So am I wrong," Walter's voice was rough with exhaustion, "or did we just make love on Christmas day?"

Alex turned over and looked him in the eye. "You weren't wrong," he finally answered.

"Thought not." Walter turned onto his back, pulling Alex over so their legs and arms were entwined.

"Yeah." Alex could hear the contentment in his voice "Merry Christmas, Walter."

"And about a million more."

"Yeah?" Alex felt a little dazed. Did that mean he really got to have all he ever wanted and Walter too?

"Yeah. Merry Christmas, Alex."

"Merry Christmas."

THE END

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