Dock the Halls

DOCK THE HALLS

A VILLAINOUS XMAS SPECIAL

Xander POV

“Baby, I don’t know if this is the right look… for me,” I called through the bathroom door, grimacing at my reflection where Butch couldn’t see. “It’s, uh, not really how my siblings and I do things.”

Not unless we want to get mercilessly roasted until we die.

I quickly schooled my expression into something more pleasant as Butch burst into the en suite. “Oh. MY GOD!” he gasped, dramatically clutching his chest in a move he only could have learned from Kai. “Sugar, you look good, Xan—I’m serious!”

I’m doomed.

Bravely turning back to face the bathroom mirror, I took in the outfit Butch had picked out for our visit to the Suarez family compound tonight. It was our annual, notoriously cutthroat, White Elephant gift exchange, and my hottie himbo had somehow convinced me to wear a… Christmas sweater.

With the Batman symbol stamped across the chest .

My gaze drifted to the man beside me, his pretty blue eyes sparkling with barely contained joy as he proudly looked me over. In return, I took in how his mouth-watering muscles were squeezed into a festive sweater of his own—featuring the Joker’s signature smile, of course.

Perfect for my wannabe villain.

I sighed. There was no way I was getting out of wearing these matching sweaters—not when what they symbolized was so important to Butch.

Chosen family.

Unsurprisingly, the holidays hadn’t been celebrated much in the Holt household, probably because Butch’s father had been allergic to happiness.

Taking a deep breath and mentally counting backward from ten, I banished the thought. Fixating on how Vortexio had mistreated what was mine would only result in my slightly murderous protective instincts roaring to life, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin Butch’s enjoyment of the night.

I’m choosing Xaddy over Daddy issues…

I reminded myself a lot had changed for the better since I’d discovered Captain Masculine’s secret identity. Butch had not only cracked me wide open emotionally, but he had reawakened my dormant superpowers as my inventus —the one supe capable of connecting his powers with mine to create an unstoppable force.

He takes my cock so nicely too.

One of the most satisfying parts of being with my favorite person was that the age-old feud between our families was finished. I would say this was thanks to three out of four shitty parents meeting their untimely ends. Butch would add it was also thanks to true love .

Gross.

But I’ll allow it.

He’d also seamlessly acclimated to the chaotic shitshow that was the Suarez clan. I’d assumed dealing with my family would be a culture shock for a sheltered only child like Butch, but he’d found common ground with each of my four brothers. Whether chatting about himbo gym-bro shit with Baltasar, favorite kills with Wolfgang, or even just getting the twins to talk at all instead of simply staring at the rest of us like a couple of freaks, Butch had firmly found his place among them.

He’s still mine, however.

My thoughts turned darker as I thought of one Suarez sibling who wouldn’t be there tonight. Violentia’s absence was felt at every family gathering—partially because she was the one who brought the most crazy. It was still unknown if she was now the enemy, but as the new head of our household, Wolfy swore he would return our sister to us, one way or the other.

Dead or alive, I suppose.

“Ready to go?” Butch’s voice brought me back to the present. To my inventus.

And to the reality of The Sweater.

Against all odds, I conjured up a believable smile, determined to mask any doubts I had surrounding my questionable attire.

We both know I’ll do whatever he says.

Despite now being able to fly, I enjoyed driving too much to quit, so after setting up Neil deGrasse Meowson with some overpriced prescription diet food, we loaded up my Audi and hit the road.

Pulling up to the compound a short while later, I was shocked to discover it had been decorated with enough blindingly festive flair to rival Rockefeller Center at Christmastime.

Or Graceland any time of the year.

“What the fuck is this?” I choked out as we exited the car, gaping at the display before me.

Firework-shaped clusters of chaos dominated the compound’s exterior walls, with coils of unhung lights piled in tangled heaps on the ground. The focal point was an oversized marquee—reminiscent of a 1950s roadside attraction—with the words “Bless this Mess” flickering in oversized bulbs.

Butch threw me a sidelong glance. “This is Gabe and Dre’s final industrial design project for the semester. You are aware that they both attend the most prestigious art school in Big City, right?”

What?

“Of course I’m aware,” I scoffed, wrapping my arms around my handsome slab of man muscle to pull him close and hide my little white lie. “And while it’s very sweet that you know so much about my siblings, don’t forget which one of us is your favorite, hmm?”

Butch’s dimples appeared, along with a secretive smile. His not-at-all-suspicious expression quickly morphed into helpless pleasure when I began grinding our dicks together through our clothes.

“You are, Daddy,” he gasped, his eyes rolling back before snapping to my face with that eerie Captain Masculine focus of his. “You’re my absolute. Fucking. Favorite.”

What a brat.

“Keep swearing, and see what happens, baby,” I growled, pulling away to give him a firm swat on his tight ass. “In fact, your overall behavior tonight will determine if—and how— I make use of whatever presents we walk away from this rodeo with.”

Butch furrowed his brow, his gaze dropping to the reusable grocery bag he carried that held our wrapped contributions to the gift exchange. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but whatever he’d been about to say was forgotten when Balty’s jarring foghorn of a voice pierced the night air.

“Finally!” my younger brother bellowed from where he’d flung open the front door. “I’m fucking starving , and Betsy refused to even put out apps until you idiots stopped banging each other and got here.”

First-world villain problems.

I smirked at the vision of our iron-willed family cook staring Baltasar into an early grave for even asking about the charcuterie as I dutifully hustled into the house.

Let’s get this sideshow on the road.

“Greetings,” Wolfgang spoke from the goddamn shadows as we walked into the entryway.

“Jesus CHRIST, Wolfy!” I shouted, tamping down the firepower that raced to my fingertips, looking for a target. “Must you lurk? Is that why you wear nothing but black like some sort of Bond villain?”

“No,” he calmly replied, leading the way down the hall toward the family room. “I simply like to be prepared in case there’s a funeral.”

Well, that’s not ominous or anything.

Baltasar made a dismissive sound as he fell in behind us. “Speaking of funerals—you’re all going down tonight. I’m totally winning Christmas this year. ”

I thought we’d at least get our coats off before he started running his mouth.

My eyes rolled back so far, I saw my enormous brain. Our White Elephant exchange was mostly luck of the draw, but conniving strategy and ruthless shit-talking were also an established part of the game.

“Dream on, squirt,” I crooned, reminding Baltasar of his place in the pecking order. “You’re up against a bonded inventus pair. Not even Wolfy is a match for the two of us together.”

It was only because of how badass Butch made me feel that I even dared to joke about challenging my older brother. While Wolfgang had saved my life when we were children—and was fiercely loyal to his siblings—he was also a scary ass motherfucker with no soul who I would not want to meet in a dark alleyway.

Or… entryway…

“Whatever, losers,” Balty articulately shot back, snatching Butch’s bag and racing down the hall—giving Wolfy a wide berth as he barreled past. “See you in the arena!”

I sighed and continued on our path until we reached the family room. Like all the upper levels, it was bright and airy, with muted tones and natural fabrics offset by bleached wood—effortlessly Scandinavian, thanks to our not-so-dearly departed mother.

It feels like we’re squatting inside an IKEA store.

The twins had already set up their creepy camp on the loveseat next to the Christmas tree, and Wolfy languidly stretched out on his favorite armchair. I took off my coat and waited until Butch handed me his before setting them aside and pulling him down onto the couch with me.

“What the hell are you wearing? ”

Here we go.

Butch stiffened, and I sharply glanced to where Baltasar was lining up the gifts on the sideboard while giving us some serious side-eye.

“You look like a couple of hipsters lost in the Alps,” he cackled, not so discreetly shaking each item as he went along.

Never mind that my idiot brother was right about something for the first time in his 27 years, I immediately bristled, siphoning every superpower in the room to defend Butch’s honor.

Before I could burn the place down, Gabriel piped in, of all people. “I like the sweaters,” he murmured, shutting down Balty’s idiocy simply by speaking. “Absurdity is appropriate social commentary for supes.”

Andre nodded in agreement—big surprise—while Butch threw the twins a grateful smile that made my eyes narrow.

Hmph. I’m still his favorite.

The clanging arrival of Betsy and her food cart diffused the precarious situation. Deftly sidestepping Baltasar’s attempts at first dibs, she efficiently arranged our favorite treats on the coffee table before quickly backing away to avoid being eaten herself.

She’s a pro.

Once upon a time, our mother tried to insist we all sit down for a holiday dinner before the gift exchange. She soon realized it was like trying to contain a pack of wild beasts and left us to our own devices while she drowned herself in a dirty martini.

Nowadays, we freely grazed while stalking our prey—like predators aiming to separate the shiniest present from the herd while taking out the competition .

Typical sibling dynamics.

Besides staunchly following the basic rules of play, we’d all agreed to abstain from drinking alcohol during the event. This was because of the time Vi got so blackout drunk, she stabbed Balty with a shrimp fork over a particularly enticing item.

Nothing like the possibility of being sent down to father’s lab for stitches to scare us all sober.

Wolfy briskly clapped his gloved hands together, reviving his role as ringmaster in this family circus. “Betsy will now distribute the order so we can begin.”

Indolently rolling her eyes, our long-suffering cook waddled over with the family heirloom we used to hold the precious slips of paper determining our fate.

“Is that… a human skull?” Butch slowly spoke, as if a ten-second delay might change the fact.

Wolfy’s lips twisted in amusement. “No. It belonged to a supe—a hero, actually. Now, he’s a serving bowl.”

Butch simply nodded, wisely realizing the topic was best left at that.

How did I ever mistake him for a himbo?

Baltasar dramatically groaned as looked at the number he drew, much to my petty pleasure.

“What’s the matter, Blunt Force?” Wolfgang sneered, addressing our brother by his supe name, reminding us all we were officially enemies until the final bell rang. “Looking for this?”

The Hand of Death gracefully lifted a gloved hand to show off the number one he’d just been blessed with. The coveted position meant he went first and got the last opportunity to swap after all the gifts had been unwrapped .

Asshole.

Respectfully.

“Xan…” Butch whispered, looking oddly nervous as he dipped a hand into the skull next. “I may have misunderstood the rules?—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckled, slinging an arm around him and practically pulling the beefcake onto my lap. “Don’t let these maniacs get in your head. Would it help to play on my team this year instead of facing them alone?”

“It’s not that,” he hissed, his gaze darting to the table where everyone’s wrapped presents were now lined up. “I-I brought something I had custom-made for you…”

Huh?

“He already plays for your team!” Baltasar crowed, butting in with a delayed punchline. “Looks like it will be up to me to continue the proud Suarez line, since I’m, like, the only straight dude in this room.”

Instead of endangering Baltasar’s single brain cell by explaining that—thanks to science— two men could have a biological baby nowadays, I swept my gaze over my other brothers. Wolfy had made enough comments over the years to confirm he preferred men—never mind that a single touch from him would kill anyone, regardless of how they identified.

Looks like it’ll just be him and his Hand until Death do them part.

Next, I glanced at the twins, noticing neither seemed bothered that Balty had essentially outed them.

Unless everyone except me already knew…

Butch didn’t look surprised either. Instead, his gaze filled with growing panic as it flickered back to the presents. Before I could wrap my head around either revelation, Wolfy abruptly stood and confidently strode to the gift table.

Ever the main character, he took his time, deliberately trailing his hand over each item before pausing at the two with matching Christmas cat wrapping paper.

Shit.

My older brother’s amber eyes landed on the man sitting beside me, predatorily assessing my fiancé’s perfect face as he toyed with him. Unfortunately for Wolfy, Butch had earned his heroic reputation by remaining cool under pressure. The Captain Masculine ‘blue steel’ stare was all Wolfgang was going to get now that the game was afoot.

Good boy.

“Hmm, I wonder which present is giving our token hero such anxiety?” Wolfgang mused as Baltasar chuckled evilly, like the toadie he was.

Determined to play as dirty as the rest of these fuckers, I sharply inhaled as Wolfy touched the gift I’d brought, but I kept my expression neutral when he snapped his gaze to me.

Gotcha.

Just as I’d hoped, the Suarez smirk appeared as he mistakenly thought he’d landed on the secret weapon for maximum emotional damage. This same smirk stretched across my face as he eagerly peeled away the paper to reveal his prize.

A fleshlight.

Balty practically fell out of his chair as he howled with laughter, and even the twins dared to show their understated amusement at our eldest brother’s expense.

We’ll all go back to being terrified of him tomorrow .

“Well, well, well,” I hummed as Wolfy reclaimed his seat with a huff. “If that’s not the perfect gift for the man who has everything…”

If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under—in the backyard, where we’d buried our father.

In a matching unmarked grave.

My gloating was cut short as Butch slowly got to his feet and shuffled toward the table. His huge mitts barely hovered over his choice before Baltasar sprang to his feet.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” My brother waggled a scolding finger in his direction. “You can’t pick your own gift. It’s against the rules.”

Butch shot me a frantic look, but all I could do was sympathetically shrug. “Just choose something else, sweetheart. It’ll be fine.”

I hope.

Blindly unwrapping a medium-sized box, Butch glanced inside and immediately turned bright red.

“C’mon, Captain,” Wolfgang chuckled, implying he knew exactly what was inside. “Show the class.”

With a heavy sigh, Butch reached inside. When he held up a bondage collar, complete with a chain leash, my cock practically joined the cocktail weenies on the table in front of me.

Down, boy!

“My turn!” Baltasar announced to no one as he strolled to the gift table with way more swagger than necessary. “And it looks like I’m the one who gets to unmask the Captain a second time.”

“Ah, fuck,” Butch muttered under his breath as he plopped back onto the couch, swiftly drawing my attention to his deepening blush.

If he could stop swearing and blushing and looking so goddamn edible, it would help me focus.

“Don’t worry, Butch,” I soothed, willing my dick to behave until we got home or found an empty room, whichever came first. “Whatever it is can’t be any worse than what has already been opened?—”

“What the fuck is this?” The real himbo in the room barked, and I spun, ready to defend my love against Balty’s continued rudeness.

It was an adult onesie.

With the words “Captain Masculine’s Favorite Brat” embroidered on the front.

I’m just gonna start digging my grave out back…

“Adorable,” Wolfgang cooed, reaching forward to grab a slice of prosciutto from the grazing board. “Although I wouldn’t have pegged you as a bottom, Xanny.”

I’M GOING TO KILL THEM ALL!

Butch covered his face with a groan, and I sighed, realizing I now had to do everything in my power to win the onesie back.

With a resigned sigh, Andre stood and glided toward the table, no doubt planning to grab a gift and retreat to the loveseat without needing to engage with the rest of us. Unfortunately for him—and my vow of chivalry—he unwrapped a bottle of my favorite scotch.

Fuck.

“Decisions, decisions.” Wolfgang chuckled, steepling his fingers like an evil villain. It was all I could do not to dive at the recliner and wrap my hands around his throat, deadly touch be damned.

Next was Gabe’s turn, and he shocked the hell out of me by dropping a mystery gift in Baltasar’s lap in trade for the custom onesie.

What is happening right now?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out!” I shouted, gesturing wildly until Balty looked up from the dad-bod-printed fanny pack he’d just unwrapped. “Look, Butch obviously didn’t understand the rules, so let’s just take his gift out of the running, and I’ll throw in?—”

“No,” Wolfgang calmly replied, his tone implying there would be no further discussion. “And now it’s your turn. Choose wisely, Romeo.”

Well, fuck.

I really wanted that scotch, not only because it was my signature drink, but it had been on backorder for months despite the excessive cash I waved in the distillery’s direction. But then my gaze drifted to Butch’s face, and I was a goner. His baby blues were wide and pleading, his pouty bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. I half-expected a single tear to trail down his chiseled jaw.

I’m fucked.

“The answer will always be yes, baby,” I murmured.

Quickly depositing a kiss on his kissable lips, I grabbed the last present from the table and chucked it at Gabriel’s face. With a grumble of defeat, he tossed the onesie my way, and I raised it high above my head like a conquering hero with his glorious spoil of war.

Victory is mine !

“Not so fast, Xanny.” Wolfgang suddenly appeared so close to me, I involuntarily flinched. “The last turn is mine and— oops —now Butch’s gift is locked in after three steals. Them's the rules.”

My brain didn’t compute what he meant until I noticed my older brother was holding out his hand expectantly, awaiting his prize.

Fucking ruthless.

“You… want a onesie that says ‘Captain Masculine’s Favorite Brat?’” I slowly asked, unsure if I’d entered some weird multiverse where Wolfy was trying to live that cozy Hygge lifestyle.

He leaned in close, eliciting a growl from Butch and causing my flight instincts to go haywire.

Stand your ground, Xan.

“Maybe I just want what you can’t have for once,” he whispered in my ear, and I pulled back in surprise at the note of sadness in his voice.

Before I could suggest he book a session with Dr. Ownit, Wolfy stepped away and raised his voice so the others could hear. “Besides,” he casually tossed the fleshlight onto the couch, “I already have that model.”

Without another word, the creepiest Suarez who ever lived slung the coveted onesie over his shoulder, spun on his heel, and strode from the room.

Maybe I should have been an only child…

Even though I was dying to take Butch home and feed him my cock, I humored his request to stay and socialize with the rest of my brothers for a while. Betsy dutifully replenished the nosh, and Dre graciously cracked open the scotch—thanks to brotherly peer pressure and mild threats—so the extra hour turned into two, then four, then half the night. More alcohol was added to the mix, and my famous fiancé got drunker and drunker until I couldn’t ignore his adorable sloppiness any longer.

Time to put that leash to good use…

“Your old room is made up for you,” Wolfy murmured from the recliner as I began collecting our things. “If you’d prefer to stay the night.”

I snapped my gaze to his face, but as usual, my older brother’s expression gave away nothing. After “winning Christmas,” he’d rejoined the festivities wearing the onesie— which made the extra peopling with my family worth it for that visual alone.

Better him than me.

I weighed my options. Although spending the night here was something I’d avoided like the plague for the past 15 years, the two main reasons for that were now dead. Plus, the idea of not having to drive before getting Butch horizontal made my brother’s offer too tempting to refuse.

“Thanks, Wolfy,” I mumbled, awkwardly juggling our jackets, gifts, and a dangerously swaying superhero. “I owe you one.”

He scoffed, although a small smile halfway appeared. “Careful, Xanny. You might end up as part of this family after all.”

Unsure what to make of that statement, I gave Wolfy a Kai-style saucy salute before snatching what was left of the scotch and steering Butch toward the stairs.

“I loooove you, Xan. So freakin’ much,” my inventus babbled as we stumbled into my old room. Flopping onto the bed, he propped himself up on his elbows and leveled me with what would have been “blue steel” if he wasn’t having so much troubling focusing. “I love you more than flying. Even more than killing. I just… I just want to be so good for you all the time.”

“Is that so?” I replied, unable to hide my amusement as I made quick work of removing our clothes, ridiculous sweaters included. “Is that all you want—to be Daddy’s good boy?”

Butch groaned and fisted his cock, giving himself a rough stroke before I batted his hand away. “Sugar. Yes… Let me be your goodest boy, pleeease.”

Fuck, he’s so fucking cute.

Knowing exactly how to get my good boy to heel, I grabbed the collar and carefully buckled it around his neck before checking my work. “What’s your safe word, sweetheart?”

“Orca. And three taps if I can’t talk,” he breathily replied. “Now, stop fucking around and get your cock in my mouth.”

What baby wants, baby gets.

Giving him that stern look he loved, I straddled his chest, wrapped the chain around my hand to form a short leash, and shoved my entire cock down his throat.

He bucked beneath me as he gagged, his pretty blue eyes rolling back in ecstasy. I firmly tugged the chain until his lips were flush against my groin, holding him there while he fought to breathe.

“Look at you,” I purred. “Big City’s savior, being treated like the fucktoy he is. But guess what, Captain? This mouth is mine. That beautiful thick cock is mine. That tight little hole I’m going to fuck raw is mine. You belong to me, which means every hard inch of you is mine to play with—like a fucktoy. Do you understand?”

Tears were streaming down Butch’s face, but he moaned in agreement like the good boy he was .

Loosening my hold on the chain, I started up a slow, deep rhythm, ensuring he gagged with every thrust. His throat tightened around me so perfectly, I knew I wouldn’t last long.

I’m keeping him forever.

Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I snarled when I saw his hand sneaking down the mattress toward his dick.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I growled. “You will keep your huge mitts off your cock until you’ve sucked the cum out of mine.”

His eyes said “Yes, Daddy,” so I resumed fucking his face, smirking to myself as he began thrusting into the air, desperate for release.

Until I heard a suspicious sound.

Glancing over my shoulder, I narrowed my eyes at the sight of Butch jamming his enormous cock into the fleshlight with only his precum for lube.

While my gut instinct was to punish him for his disobedience, he was still technically following the rules by not directly touching his dick.

Well played, himbo.

“What a fucking slut you are.” I stared down at him, increasing my pace until the sound of my skin slapping against his echoed through the room. “So addicted to villain ass that you can’t help yourself. Because that’s what you’re doing, right? Pretending that toy is my tight hole. That you’re stuffed deep inside me. Owning me.”

The noises Butch was making were criminal as he writhed beneath me. Just the sight of him, so helplessly delirious with pleasure, sent a shot of electricity down my spine and into my balls as they drew up tight .

Mine, mine, mine.

“Is that why you bought that ridiculous onesie for me?” I rasped, so close, my soul was ready to leave my body. “You wanted to unzip it all the way down and fuck me while I wore something that said Captain. Masculine’s. Favorite. Brat?”

Butch cried out around my cock as he violently shook, and I followed him over the edge, pulling out just enough so he’d get the mouthful of cum we both deserved.

Because Daddy wants a kiss.

Like the goodest boy he was, Butch waited until my lips were on his before sharing my release, swapping it back and forth until we’d both had our fill.

All fucking mine.

Tossing the toys aside, we got under the covers so I could follow my favorite post-sex ritual of cuddling him like a lovesick fool.

I will take that secret to my grave.

Butch was quiet for so long, I assumed he’d fallen asleep. “Thank you, Xan,” he abruptly spoke, startling me from my thoughts. “I needed that.”

I chuckled, brushing my fingers through his soft hair. “Baby, I will put you on a leash and face-fuck you anytime, if that’s what you need.”

Butch’s broad shoulders shook in silent laughter. “Yes, please. Although that wasn’t what I meant.” He paused, as if collecting his thoughts. “Thank you for… tonight. For giving me a family.”

I froze. While Butch and I often discussed how we’d found each other, broken our parents’ cycle of hate, and formed our own little family, it hadn’t occurred to me that he’d consider my siblings part of the deal .

Replaying the events of the night, I realized even though Butch had brought a gift that should have earned him the roasting of the century, my brothers hadn’t jumped on the opportunity. Instead, they’d fought over the onesie like it was the finest bottle of scotch, for no other reason than to make sure my inventus knew he belonged.

Although, I suspect Wolfy actually wanted to keep it.

“You see me like no one else does, Xan. And I see you,” he sleepily mumbled, his voice growing faint as exhaustion finally won out. “Your brothers just want to get to know you too. All you have to do is let them in.”

A traitorous tear slipped out as his words landed, but luckily, Butch seemed to have fallen asleep before he could see it.

Pulling him closer, I greedily breathed in his fresh-air-on-the-Bay scent and whispered my heartfelt reply against his skin. “I’ll try, baby.”

All I can do is try.