Author's Notes: Much thanks and love to my dear Fallon and Sarah who provided me mad brainstorming when I failed at plot.
*
The wind howled like a symphony of sick dogs trained to sing commercial jingles. Jason slumped into the ski lodge, cursing God, snow and his uncle Errol, for sending him to some god-forsaken corner of the world where they still had fresh-air and blindingly white snow, which usually came in the form of ass-freezing blizzards. While he was shown up to his room, he added in some choice words about his taxi-driver and the general accessibility of the lodge, and then went back to cursing God about the weather in general.
He was—rather wisely on the part of some of the long-tempered staff—completely ignored.
And, as everyone knows, when one has been shipped off to a ski-village on an errand of questionable legality with vague instructions involving white rabbits and black Russians, and when one's complaints have been universally ignored by the good-natured and irritatingly cheerful staff, the obvious thing to do is to sulk. Preferably at the hotel bar, where one also has the opportunity to get drunk and possibly laid.
Jason, being a hot-blooded and short-tempered (not to mention irresistibly sexy) young man, particularly prone to bouts of sulking, did just that.
He found it particularly convenient that the white rabbit just happened to be bartending. It figured his contact would be a snowbunny. A five-ten snowbunny with cornsilk blond hair, baby blue eyes and two gorgeous long legs that lured the eyes up to a fantastic ass which featured a fuzzy white rabbit-tail. Due to the femininity of the features and the short-skirted nature of the costume, Jason had to look twice before he was even sure the object of his arousal was male. Male, but a femme. An incredibly cute femme with sexy albeit garish taste in fashion. The tight fuzzy sweater he wore was done in neon shades of rainbow, and two tiny gold reindeer dangled from his earlobes. Jason took the time to stare, because they really were exceptionally sexy legs. It'd be disrespectful
not
to honor them with some appreciative drooling.
"Hi," the snowbunny chirped, leaning on the counter and chewing idly at his lip. "What'll it be, cutie?"
"Black Russian," Jason replied, reaching out to run the strands of the bunny's fine silk hair through his fingertips.
"Mmhmm," said the bartender, leaning dazedly into the touch. "You're cute."
Jason wondered if he'd been in the business long. Not that Jason had, but his snowbunny contact seemed a bit unprofessional. Maybe clueless would be a better word.
"Want a quickie?" the bartender asked, with a lovable take-me-now smile.
Yes.
"You aren't busy?" Jason asked, indicating a group of guests glaring at him and waiting to be served.
Bunny didn't even look. "Not really."
He really did have the sexiest lip-chewing habit in the history of the world. To say nothing of the lips themselves, which inspired such amounts of lust that he was illegal in three countries, as he later informed Jason, who thought it was entirely possible, but more likely attributed to the amount of lust inspired by Bunny's legs in a miniskirt.
He looked even better out of it. And lying on his back on the bed with his hot-pink lips around Jason's cock, well, there were no words for that amount of sexy.
"Do you do this a lot?" Jason asked.
Bunny, quite aware that one shouldn't talk with one's mouth full, giggled and choked. Jason pulled out to let him breathe.
"Yes," he giggled, then paused. "Well, I mean, no. Er." He gave a cute lick to the side of Jason's prick. "Maybe we should talk later."
Jason nodded. "Open up."
Smiling, Bunny nodded in reply, kissing the head quickly before opening his lips and tilting his head back to make deepthroating easier. His hands reach around to guide Jason's thrusts, lightly groping his butt.
It was, Jason thought, by far the best blowjob he had ever received.
"Hey—" he started, to warn Bunny, who chose that moment to suck in deeply, and Jason came down his throat with a shout.
Bunny sat up, giggling and wiping his mouth when he was done. Jason curled into the bed next to him, pulling him close.
"Can you get it up again to fuck me?" Bunny asked, with a peck to Jason's cheek.
Jason grinned. "Yeah. But I didn't bring condoms."
Bunny's face fell, pouty. "So go get some. Downstairs. I'll wait."
"Okay." Jason kissed him and got up, pulling his pants up. "Be right back."
On the way back, he walked into a wall. A very sexy wall, on closer inspection. Tall, dark, sinfully handsome, with deep blue eyes and brown hair, and dressed in a black leather trenchcoat. Jason was starting to wonder what kind of hotel he was in, with such unusually hot guys all around. The wall gave him a suspicious glare. "Do I know you?"
Jason couldn't help it. Who wouldn't flirt with a guy this hot? "Would you like to?"
"I'm looking for someone," the wall said. To Jason, who was staring fixatedly in rampant lust, it sounded more like "I want to impale you on my cock and watch you writhe." Jason has never had the best hearing.
"Uh," Jason said, dropping the box of condoms.
The wall picked it up, handing it to him. "Someone waiting for you?"
"Oh," Jason said. "Right. Seeya." With a grin and a wink, he left.
At a safe distance, the wall followed. He watched until Jason entered one of the hotel rooms, and then took his time to stealthily pick the lock and push the door open. He was met by the incredibly erotic tableau of Bunny arched off the bed in ecstasy, with Jason above him, kissing him, stretching Bunny out with two lube-slicked fingers up his ass, and the words coming out of Bunny's mouth were something to the degree of: "oh please fuck me need it inside me need you so bad."
Although Dane would later claim that it was shock which kept him from shooting Jason on the spot, those who knew the nature of his relationship with Jason and Bunny insisted that it was more likely arousal. So he did the obvious thing and stared.
"Er," said Jason.
Bunny yelped. "Dane!"
"You know this guy?" Jason asked, or at least started to, because when Dane pulled a gun on him, he figured it might be smart to shut up.
"He's my fiancé," Bunny said, flailing. "Dane, please don't kill him, you can't kill him, I love him."
Jason blinked. "You love me?"
"Who is he?" Dane asked, not amused, not taking his gun away from Jason's temple.
"He's the—he's, um," Bunny flailed again for good measure. "What was your name?"
"Jason," he whimpered, really wishing he'd remembered condoms so that he could've fucked Bunny earlier and died happy.
Dane twitched. "You didn't even know his name? How long have you been sleeping with him?"
"I only just met him! At the bar! But I love him!"
"You
would
," Dane muttered. "What about your contact?"
"He is my contact. It was love at first sight."
"
He's
the target?"
Jason wished they'd stop yelling. And maybe put the gun down. He blinked. "Wait, target?"
"You botched the kill to cheat on me with the target?" Dane summarized, ignoring Jason despite having a gun to his head.
"It was true love! You can't refuse true love!"
"What, some scrawny kid? And what am I?"
"Hey!" Jason objected.
"You're the
other
love of my life," Bunny mumbled, piteous. "Don't hate me."
Dane growled. "Just let me kill him. He's the
target
."
"I'll never forgive you," Bunny said.
Dane put the gun down, but continued to glare. "What do you want me to do? If I don't kill him, they'll just get someone else to finish the job."
"We could protect him. He's sexy."
Dane twitched. "Are you suggesting I'm not enough for you?"
