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Wade hated Christmas. Not because of the holiday itself, but because a different class of asshole came out at Christmas. More obnoxious, drunker, and more willing to take a swing at someone. This year was better than most, with Dalton working as his right hand there were fewer assholes for Wade to deal with personally. For a college pretty-boy, Dalton was shaping up to be as good a cooler as Wade, maybe better. Of course, having that pretty-boy in his bed had done wonders for his tolerance for assholes, too.

But it was 5 am on Christmas morning, and they had to be back at work that night, and Wade couldn't sleep. Dalton was awake too, he could hear the pages turning as the kid looked for something in the big-ass book he'd dragged to bed with him. Wade finally rolled over to face him, his forehead nearly touching the kid's bare hip, and slid his hand over the kid's thigh. "What'cha got there, Kid?"

Dalton didn't even look up as he answered, "Dickens. Thought I'd read 'A Christmas Carol' before I turned in. The light bothering you?"

"Nah. Think I was supposed to read that once in school." Dalton dropped a hand to slowly run his fingers through Wade's hair. Usually he hated people messing with his hair, but it felt nice, so for tonight Wade decided to ignore it, and the smile on Dalton's face when he looked down. It wasn't his usual smirk, it was an open and sweet smile.

"Time you found out what the fuss was all about, then." Dalton shifted the book in his lap a bit, "Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail."

Wade drifted off with Dalton's voice in his ears, thinking that Christmas wasn't so bad.