TWISTED THREAD

Part 15: Wildfire

Santa had always been careful.

Careful with his words. Careful with his heart.

But Perth made him reckless.

And right now?

Santa didn't want to be careful anymore.

He wanted this.

Wanted Perth.

Wanted to drown in everything they had been running from.

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Perth kissed him like he had been waiting forever.

Like he had been holding himself back for too long.

Santa felt lightheaded. Breathless.

But he didn't pull away.

Didn't even think about it.

Because Perth's hands were on his waist, pulling him closer, and Santa's fingers were tangled in his hair, and nothing had ever felt this right.

Perth groaned softly against his lips, and the sound sent a shiver down Santa's spine.

Santa tugged at Perth's shirt. "Take this off."

Perth pulled back just enough to smirk. "Impatient?"

Santa rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Perth chuckled but listened.

The shirt was gone in seconds, and Santa barely had time to process before Perth was kissing him again, deeper this time, his hands moving to Santa's back.

Santa gasped as Perth's lips traveled to his jaw, his neck—

Santa's grip on his shoulders tightened.

"Perth—"

Perth hummed against his skin. "Hmm?"

Santa swallowed hard. "Nothing."

Perth grinned. "Thought so."

Santa groaned. "I hate you."

Perth laughed, but his voice was softer now. "No, you don't."

Santa didn't argue.

Because he didn't.

Not even a little.

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Perth wasn't rushing.

He wasn't pushing.

He was here.

Present.

Waiting for Santa to meet him halfway.

And Santa did.

With no hesitation.

Because this time?

He wasn't running.

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Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room.

Santa shifted, blinking against the light, his body still warm from the night before.

Something solid and familiar was beside him.

Santa turned his head.

Perth.

Santa swallowed hard, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyelashes rested against his cheeks, the way his fingers were still loosely curled around Santa's wrist—like even in sleep, he didn't want to let go.

Santa's heart ached.

Because for the first time in his life—

He wasn't afraid.

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Perth woke up to Santa staring.

A slow smirk spread across his lips. "Like what you see?"

Santa rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Perth laughed.

Santa felt his stomach flip.

God, he was so gone.

Perth stretched, then pulled Santa closer. "Morning."

Santa hummed. "Morning."

Perth pressed a lazy kiss to Santa's temple, voice still sleepy. "You okay?"

Santa exhaled.

Then nodded.

Perth watched him carefully. "You sure?"

Santa's fingers tightened around the sheets.

He had been waiting for doubt to creep in.

For the fear to return.

But all he felt was peace.

Santa looked at Perth—really looked at him.

And smiled.

"I'm sure."

Perth's expression softened.

Then he kissed him again.

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But outside?

Boom leaned against the car, watching the apartment.

The figure beside him exhaled. "So, they made up."

Boom's lips curled. "Yeah."

The figure hummed. "Then let's break them."

Boom smirked. "Game on."

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To be continued...

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What's coming next?! Stay tuned for Part 16.