Festive Fucking 1

Scents of cinnamon, pine, and freshly baked cookies suffused into the air, assailing Marvin's senses as he watched his wife hum a happy tune, cooking for the impending party.

Impending

. He shouldn't describe it like that, but since Tyler was in town for the holiday and he invited the guy for dinner without telling Johanna, he knew it wasn't going to be pretty. His wife hated his best friend with a passion. Dumb, irresponsible, manwhore--those were a few adjectives she had used for him in the past. And the feeling was mutual. When he finally broke the news of their engagement to Tyler, his first words were, "Why would you want to ask Voldemort to marry you?"

It was slightly uncalled for to compare the love of his life to magical bald Hitler, however fictional, but Marvin couldn't help but laugh anyway. His best friend, also best man, had this unparalleled skill to land his jokes in a way that it never seemed so insulting to the target--despite the snark. Even Johanna at times found him hilarious.

Nevertheless, the two despised each other. They were civil most of the time, which did offload plenty of the rants that should have mentally eviscerated Marvin. However, when Tyler dated a close friend of theirs, Tracy, and ended up dumping her in the same month because she was--in Tyler's own words--as boring as a bowl of gluten-free oatmeal, pandemonium broke loose. Johanna was

furious

. Although both Marvin and Johanna somewhat agreed.

Not that they mentioned anything of the sort to the subject in question, of course, and Tracy thankfully bounced back quickly. Johanna didn't drop the grudge for a second, though, and the best man held his ground. That was a few months ago, and they've met a handful of times since then whenever Tyler was back from New York, but never more than a minute, so Marvin had to admit he was a little scared.

The good news is that Johanna seemed to be in a good mood this morning. Maybe he could tell her now.

"Hey, hun?"

Rolling up his sleeves, Marvin approached her from the back while she carefully arranged plates of appetizers on the kitchen counter, balancing the tiny quiches and dips just right.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," he finally whispered, snuggling against her sensitive ears. She giggled, pushing him away from the kitchen.

Okay, so he chickened out. How bad could it really be? She'll find out when he's here anyway--Marvin justified.

Outside, as the world was blanketed in a soft dusting of snow and the streetlights casted a warm glow across the neighborhood, looking like something out of a holiday postcard, the hour approached. When the doorbell finally rang, Marvin couldn't help but let out a nervous smile, exchanging a look with his wife.

"They're early," Johanna said while the sound of voices outside grew louder.

"Happy holidays," she greeted, a big smile present when opening the door, which gradually disappeared when she counted the extra figure.

"What's up, Jo?"

"Tyler, hello," she replied sarcastically, and the atmosphere seemed to freeze further. Marvin took that as his cue to step in before a brawl broke out and invited the guests inside--whilst trying to ignore the gaze his wife threw at him. If looks could kill. Jesus.

In an effort to ask him to keep a low profile, Marvin exchanged glances with his best friend. Unfortunately, he only took that as an invitation to push the wife's boundaries.

"You look rather unwell, Jo. Did the Ghost of Christmas Future visit you in your sleep last week?" he said in mock-concern, boldly taking a step inside the house.

"I commend the effort it must have taken to think of an opening joke on your way here, but it's called the 'Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come,' just to give your thick head a literary lesson."

"Isn't that your nickname? 'Yet to Come Johanna'?" snickered Tyler before looking at his best friend in apology. "Sorry, I think that was more of a burn for you than her."

"It wouldn't be New Year's Eve without a little friendly fire," Marvin replied as they gave each other a hug.

"Happy New Year, you son of a bitch," they both greeted at exactly the same time before Johanna rolled her eyes and walked away.

"I'm guessing you didn't tell her," sighed Tyler.

"Yep. She's pretty mad, so please do me a favor--don't provoke her too much."

"Hey, I'm not the one who's constantly out for blood every single time we meet."

Marvin punched his shoulder. "Just be a punching bag for today and I'll talk to her, all right?"

Tyler groaned in response and rolled his eyes at him, but otherwise nodded.

After settling him in with a beautiful scotch that somewhat alleviated his best friend's resentment, Marvin mustered up the courage to walk towards his wife, who had busied herself seating their friends on the table. He couldn't find an opening to mention his mortal sin of bringing his insufferable best friend here, so Marvin sat obediently still beside her and waited while their friends from work caught up. When the conversation started to lean towards decoration, his wife received an influx of compliments. She deserved it, Marvin thought. The place looked wonderful. Even Tyler reluctantly hummed in approval, which brought out a semblance of puffed-up smug in Jo's eyes.

After they finished with the delectable feast (Tyler couldn't move an inch), the wife excused herself. Marvin took that as a cue to help her out and get some alone time in the kitchen.

Even alone Johanna was extraordinarily quiet with him, which told him everything he needed to know.

"Are you still pissed at me?" he asked just to make sure.

"What gave you that impression?" she replied to him with a sweet smile on her face.

He began, "Baby...."

She rolled her eyes at him and left without another word, leaving behind a speechless Marvin in the kitchen.

Johanna huffed as she headed towards the bathroom upstairs. She knew she was being unreasonable. Her husband just wanted to see his best friend during the holidays. Considering Johanna's tense history with the man, not telling her was hardly out of bounds. That said, it still pissed her off.

Tyler pissed her off. No doubt he was still the most infuriating asshole she's ever had the misfortune of meeting--Johanna expected nothing less. She expected better from her sweet husband, however. Marvin was an extremely supportive partner, and while he took her side in almost everything, Tyler had been a different case altogether. Sometimes, she didn't feel like Marvin was particularly on her side when it came to him--and she hated losing to Tyler. Maybe it was stupid. It wasn't as if Marvin took Tyler's side either. But it made her furious all the same.

That's weird, she thought. Johanna could have sworn the lights were off here.

Just as she was about to turn the door knob, out came a very tall Tyler--eliciting a surprised yelp from her. She didn't expect anyone to be up here, especially when the guest bathroom was downstairs. Typical Tyler, she scoffed, flouncing about the place like he owned it.

The worst part--he looked like he

owned

it. Johanna hadn't noticed because he was usually beside her husband, but Tyler stood a full head taller than her. Though very slight, he had an advantage on even Marvin, who had been the tallest in his family since he was fifteen.

"Gorged yourself out, huh?" Johanna said condescendingly, which she had to admit was slightly under the belt, and not to mention inaccurate. The man was more fit than her husband, who made it a habit to do a thousand jumping jacks every day. His shoulders were more broad, sharp, and his chest and stomach were so obviously toned underneath the shirt., you could see a faint outline of his muscle groups. Tyler would be a great underwear model, her and Marvin's female friends always mentioned in passing. If she remembered correctly, in fact, Tyler did briefly model for a living back then. At least it had been a viable career option for him until he quit and worked towards becoming a business analyst. Tyler was still occasionally approached by a few representatives from modeling agencies and the like, though. In the end that had been the entire reason why Tracy wanted to be set up with him. His hot body. The only admirable quality about him, aside from his looks.

Johanna braced herself for an argument. Contrary to expectations, however, Tyler didn't snap back. "It was one heck of a meal, so thanks," he said simply, and Johanna was rendered speechless.

"You're acting weird."

He paused at that, and eventually gave her his signature grin. "Well, how do I usually act?"

"You know what I mean, jackass."

"Aww, sounds like someone is missing the jackass," he teased, abruptly pinching her chin between his fingers, before skipping away with a carefree hum to avoid her outrage. "I'd stop the flirting if I were you. We might just break your hubby's poor heart."

Johanna scoffed at the insinuation while she glared at his back. Flirting--with

Tyler

of all people? Hardly. She would flirt with an octopus before she'd do that in any way.

The latter part of what he said, however, brought together an insane idea inside her head. A scenario that would get her husband to apologize to her at Tyler's expense. See, one of the many things she found cute about Marvin was how uncomfortable he turned whenever she talked about other guys. He had this instinctive, almost instantaneous, dislike for them, and she wondered if Tyler was an exception to the rule. Tyler--his best friend who has had more luck with the ladies than him since forever, and his wife, the only thing he could parade around the womanizer, slowly taking an interest too. Marvin would probably be pissed beyond belief.

She could do it for revenge.

The only problem was the thought of flirting with the hedonistic playboy. Could she actually, truly, convincingly do it?

Just the thought itself almost gagged her, and it had everything to do with the man's personality because the simple fact is, excluding what's inside the candy-coated shell, there were worse men to flirt with. Tyler was a handsome man in a very masculine way. It showed in the way he dressed, spoke, and acted in front of everyone. While red-blooded men like him were typically fallible to machismo, prone to break under pressure, false bravado certainly wasn't a term you could apply to Tyler. The audacity seemed ingrained in his very bone structure, which was nigh perfect--Johanna's friends constantly reminded her every time they saw him. She agreed. She understood why he and her husband were a famous campus duo. Marvin was hot and cute in a nerdy way that kind of always appealed to her, what with his glasses and his curly hair. He was approachable, friendly, and seemingly a little too smart and perfect to be the "wrong choice," which was basically every college girl's staple. As such, Marvin didn't really get to fool around very much, and he never really wanted to.

On the other hand, Tyler was everything an immature girl dreamed of.

A jock-type that had an artist's tortured mind, plagued with a sense of distrust towards authority figures and infested in commitment issues, he might as well have been a drug--after all, young women loved a puzzle, a problem they could fix.

That hasn't changed over the years. He still looked like a model for Dolce & Gabbana, and even among them, men who could pull off his current hairstyle--a simple buzz cut fade--were very few and far in between.

The thought of flirting with such a man still made her livid, however. Maybe she ought not to do it. Find it in her heart to just let it slide and forgive Marvin without consequences.

But when she got back and saw her husband laughing, without a care in the world, she knew she couldn't do it. Johanna backed away before they could see her, and sprinted back upstairs, her mind circling over a base plan. Harmless flirting, stolen glances, some gentle touches in the thigh, just to make her husband a little mad and insecure. What better catalyst to use than his best friend?

Of course, for this to work, she had to catch her husband and Tyler's eyes first.

Johanna went through her closet and changed into something a little more

provocative

--a red bodycon dress that might turn a few heads and there, but overall classy enough to still wear at holiday dinner parties. Additionally, the vengeful wife fixed up her medium-length hair by adding a bit of volume and put on some lipstick and mascara while she was at it.

By the time she went down, the party had slowed into a more quiet lull. Or maybe she had caused this? They seemed to be looking at her. Especially the men.

"You look stunning, girl," Bianca--one of her work friends--exclaimed and Johanna gave her a sheepish smile in return. Perhaps she went a little bit nuts with her dress and makeup.

As though the universe was answering her question, her husband approached, all fidgety and tongue-tied. She knew that look in his eye. Marvin was aroused. Johanna let out a victorious grin, which diminished slightly when she saw Tyler walking beside him, a glass of wine in hand, wearing an inscrutable expression.

"What's the get-up for, honey?" asked Marvin.

"Got water all over my cardigan, so I had to change. I figured I should wear something with a little more... holiday spirit. Why? Did you think it was for you?"

"Is it?" Marvin seemed to be mostly asking her as a joke, but Johanna could tell he was half-hoping.

"Nah. It's for Tyler over there," she replied, briefly taking a glance at the best man. That brought out a few laughs from their friends, mostly the women. Then she looked over to her husband, whose smile slightly faded, an unreadable light shining through his irises, and she grinned victoriously.

"Lucky Tyler," somebody mumbled, but Johanna couldn't see who said it on account of being surrounded by the girls and dragged to the living room.

Marvin jokingly elbowed Joshua. "Who'd you say was lucky?"

He coughed out, "The husband, obviously."

Surgically removed from the boys' conversation, Tyler watched the women, particularly Johanna, converse with each other. They had chosen to sit near the burning fireplace, which didn't even seem remotely necessary anymore in his opinion. That dress Johanna rocked seemed to turn up the temperature of the entire room. He scowled at the thought. Johanna--a smoking hot babe?

He'd rather stab his eyes than admit such a thing.

In any case, that innuendo-filled exchange of glances between them was a surprise. Okay, Tyler had mildly flirted with her upstairs awhile ago. It was reflexive, obviously, because he was trying not to trigger her, as per Marvin's stupid suggestion. For Johanna to flirt back, when she was nothing like the sort, however, was an entirely different matter. He could tell she was up to something, but he didn't know what. He was sure his best friend also noticed something. Just that, the dress made it really hard to think rationally. Or at all.

Marvin distractedly stared at the empty air, and Tyler joined him.

Fuck, she was

hot

.

Tyler couldn't believe he had been tricked into thinking that perpetually-wearing cardigan girl was attractive for a moment. It was

Johanna

. The woman knew nothing but to dog on him and his poor best friend. Apparently, that same beast of a woman knew how to dress herself. That bodycon could have been so easily worn to injustice, but it so perfectly accentuated everything

good

about her. Her surprisingly smooth thighs, sporting a good amount of meat, pressed together by the fabric's design, showing off the near impeccable form of her slim waist, v-shaped hips, and the sexy thigh gap in between.

She pissed him off so much. That grin, like she knew what every guy at that moment was thinking of, looked cockier than his ever was.

Johanna had always been a hot chick. He knew that. To be perfectly honest, Tyler gave her a fair number of second glances in the past. But her attitude always managed to throw him off the scent, so much so that he forgot how beautiful the woman could be. Physically, he specified. Her only admirable trait--that face and that body. Carved by a fucking artist.

"I'm going to the kitchen to grab a few snacks," she said to the girls. Tyler, being the only guy who was listening in on the women's conversations, seemed to be the only one among them who noticed. He quietly followed the wife there, before getting straight to the point.

"What's your game, Johanna?"

Johanna didn't look away from what she was doing. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb with me. Even now you're flirting with me."

Okay, he didn't know how, but Tyler

always

knew when a woman was flirting with him. It wasn't scientific or even a learned skill, but he could always pinpoint the exact moment a girl starts to see him in that way, or which trait she specifically liked in him. More than their eyes or the way they spoke, he listened carefully to their overall body language--and he prided himself in being giftedly fluent, no matter how cryptic it may appear. He always insufferably preached to his sexual partners that sex was the best, most accurate form of communication. It told him what a woman wanted, liked, and who she really was.

His instincts had never thrown him off before, but they were now in disarray. He knew Johanna didn't like him, but...

something

was there. What was she up to?

"You're so full of yourself," she giggled, walking towards him and tip-toeing just until her ear was a few inches. "Wonder what that feels like."

And she left, leaving Tyler to stew in a bowl of confusion, trying to solve the stupidly enigmatic sentence. Did she mean arrogance, or was she talking about being... full in a different way?

No matter what it was she meant, Tyler had to say no woman ever managed to throw him off so effectively. He almost found it endearing--although he squashed that feeling before it could thrive. Johanna was

not

cute.

Not

hot.

Not

pretty.

Not

interesting.

He sighed aloud to himself and headed back to the party. It all turned out to be such a snooze after the surprising event. At least until the games started.

"What kind of adults play 'Spin-The-Bottle'?" Bianca bantered in good intentions.

"The maladjusted kind," Tyler replied.

The group formed a circle around a beer bottle in the living room and proceeded to play, with everyone agreeing Ashley would be first.

"Okay, whoever it lands on has to kiss no matter what. Are the couples okay with that?" Ashley, who suggested the game, made sure one last time.

"You mean to say you're okay with it if the bottle points to your wife and someone else?" Joshua asked her.

The lesbian redhead shrugged, glancing at her wife, "Trust me, my wife's done worse in her prime."

Bianca spluttered at her, but by then the already spinning bottle started to slow down, and in the end it magically,

unbelievably

pointed to Simon--Bianca's ex-boyfriend from her college days, now co-worker.

The entire group laughed at the weird coincidence, but the rules were set. With an unbearable cringe on their faces, Ashley and Simon reluctantly touched lips.

"No wonder my wife broke up with you. You're a lousy kisser," the redhead spat after, wiping her mouth off with her sleeves.

"You of all people should know it had something to do with the other set of lips I didn't have," he argued back jokingly as they proceeded to physically tear at each other.

"All right, all right. That's enough. It's my turn," Bianca grunted as she split them apart. The two settled down, albeit with a grumble, which Johanna thought was impressive still. Before she could ruminate on who her friend would get, the bottle stopped in her direction.