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(NOTE: This one-shot fic has been edited for content and to run in the post size allowed. Rated MC-MA: suggestive scenarios and gratuitous snugglebunnies. Parental supervision suggested for Muppets under the age of 45.)
Gina turned the space heater up another notch. “Brrr!”
Newsie nodded approval, huddled next to it. He appreciated not only the new heater’s warming capacity, but also its aesthetic design: they’d shelled out a bit for one of the new mock-fireplaces, a gorgeous thing which resembled the enameled-iron coal-burning style popular in the late Victorian era. Its curving front, filigreed grating, and deep red color complemented Gina’s collection of Art Nouveau things in every room. This one was the right scale to fit next to the sofa in the living room, and the Newsman curled into a small felt lump at one end of the leather seat closest to it, his robe and a large throw blanket enfolding him in a plush cocoon, for the moment not feeling at all silly about the knee-high faux fur slipper booties Gina had given him as an early holiday gift. The soft crackling sound and play of light from the electric grate added to the cozy atmosphere, already encouraged by the multicolored tiny lights blinking softly on their small Fraser fir by the windows, and the deep-red velvet bunting draped in swaths along the poster frames and above the windows and doorways. Sprays of pine and holly decorating numerous carnival glass vases, and jingle bells on the front door, all pleased Newsie’s nose and ears every time he encountered them, but they did little to keep his foam warm in the mid-December cold front.
He and Gina had emerged from a very hot bath together a short while ago, their hope that a long steamy soak would ward off the chill a while dashed as soon as they’d come into the main rooms of the apartment for dinner. “Hopefully they’ll have the gas repaired by tomorrow,” Newsie grumbled.
Gina shook her head, grimacing. “I doubt it. They’ll probably have to check every apartment even after the main line to the building is fixed…and with Christmas almost here, we’ll be lucky if they get around to it before January! I’m just glad we found some decent heaters.” She leaned over to kiss him. “You can be my bedwarmer tonight.”
“Sounds good,” he replied, smiling. “Um…do you need any help in the kitchen?”
“No, it’s just soup. You stay there and drink your tea and I’ll bring the food out in a minute.” She retreated to the archway of the dining room, but paused to look back at him. Adorable, the way he huddles down in the blanket, she thought. She could just barely see his fuzzy fingertips holding his mug of peppermint tea close to his chest. Her own Muppet. With the new film out, millions of people were rediscovering, or newly discovering, fanship for the whole troupe; heck, Piggy alone required two assistants to sort through the cards and read her email! And here he was…her modest, handsome Newsman, still baffled by fame, still shyly happy to be with her. Shaking her head again, but with a smile, Gina continued into the kitchen to ladle out two bowlfuls of the rich beef-and-barley stew leftovers.
Newsie gave her a deeply grateful look when she set the bowl in front of him on the old steamer trunk they used as a coffee table. Gina dragged it closer to the sofa and sat down next to him. “Any blanket you can spare?” she asked, but he was already moving to drape it around her shoulders. “Mmm. Now get over here,” she commanded, pulling him under the comforting plush again.
“Thank you,” he told her, eyes bright behind those clunky hornrims. He delved into the soup immediately. “Oh, frog this is good…”
“You better believe it,” she laughed, starting in on her own bowl. “Nothing like hot soup on a cold night!”
“Nothing like a beautiful woman who knows how to cook,” Newsie murmured, and jumped, startled, when she mock-smacked his shoulder.
“I thought you loved me for my brains!” Gina complained.
To her delight, her Newsman turned crimson. “Well I…er…of course! I mean…nothing like a beautiful smart woman who, uh, also has domestic talents…”
“Newsie, I’m kidding,” she laughed, kissing his prominent nose.
“Right,” he muttered, embarrassed. “I knew that…”
“You wear pink very well.”
“Hmf,” he snorted, blushing again. He ate his soup determinedly.
“No work for you tomorrow?”
“Thankfully,” Newsie sighed. “Of course, since Blanke insisted I take my vacation weekend now, that only means he expects me to work Christmas.”
“Well…at least that won’t be the whole day, right? And I still get you at night…”
He smiled, loving the mischievous wrinkle of her petite nose; that expression always boded well. “At your disposal, Gypsy girl,” he said, and lifted his head for a kiss. Oh, how he especially loved the feel of her soft lips on his own…
She giggled. “News flash! ‘Disposable’ reporter repurposed as cuddle toy!”
The Newsman could feel warmth all across his body at that one. “’Cuddle toy’?” he demanded, scowling, though he couldn’t quite keep a smile from his face.
“Would you prefer another term? Snugglebunny? Body pillow?”
“Stop it,” he muttered, blushing terribly. She planted quick kisses all over his nose and cheeks, and he laughed.
“Hmmm. Finish your soup, Muppet boy. I have plans for you,” she whispered in his ear.
He finished and plunked his bowl down as a challenge, quirking an eyebrow at her. “So? Let’s see these reputed ‘plans’!”
“Oho. He calls my bluff,” Gina snickered. “First one to get their bowl in the sink and mouth rinsed before bed wins!”
Newsie grinned, leaping to his feet, shivering once as his body left the protective warmth of the blanket. He grabbed both bowls and raced into the kitchen, wondering what his prize might be, but Gina stopped him on the way back through the living room, her hand around his arm. Confused, he looked up to see her holding out a bottle of Shiraz. “Not so fast. Rinse with this.” She grinned, daring him.
“With wine?”
“Wine, mouthwash, it’s all alcohol, right?”
“I suppose,” he granted, curious. “Have I had that one before?” Gina’s forays into the world of oenology meant they rarely tried the same wine twice, although she was building a select wine collection in the bottom of the pantry of the vintages both of them had enjoyed more than most. Newsie never had more than a half-glassful, as it made him sleepy; Gina could tolerate it better, though she too drank moderately. She had two of the sleek, gold-rimmed goblets they’d picked out together sitting on the trunk; he liked the way they complemented the red-and-green plaid table runner and small golden candles placed there for the holiday. She invited him, with a gentle tug on his arm, to sit back down. Happy but curious, he did so, and she poured for them both.
“Yes…this is that Argentinean one we tried last week. Nice warm red.”
Newsie sipped it slowly. “Uh…you know alcohol actually lowers your body temperature, right?”
Gina snuggled up next to him, rewrapping the blanket around them both. “Just drink it, dear Public Safety Journalist.”
He’d only taken three or four sips when she surprised him, downing the rest of hers in a couple of gulps, flinging back her half of the blanket, and springing up and out of the room. “Ha ha ha! I win!”
He hurried after her, forgetting to put down his glass. “Hey! But…but…I took your bowl to the sink too!”
“I know,” Gina said, grinning at him as she whipped back the covers on the bed and dove in. “I figured you’d fall for that!”
“Hey!” Newsie sputtered, not sure if he should be annoyed or pleased. “Er…does this mean I have to give you a present now?”
“You bet it does. Drink that off and get in here.”
“Uh…all of it?”
She gave an evil giggle. “Just tilt your head back and toss it down, o Muppet of Moderation! And can you turn the heater on? It’s freezing in here!”
He agreed with that call, anyway. Newsie switched on the slender electric heater they’d purchased for this smaller room, and shut the bedroom door to trap the warmth inside. “Should I go turn off the fireplace? and what about the tree?” he wondered, still eyeing his wineglass dubiously. That was a full finger of wine left! He really shouldn’t…
“Newsie…the heater’s electric and it stays cool to the touch on the outside. Let it run, it’ll make the living room bearable tomorrow morning! And I doubt a string of LEDs will endanger the tree. Now finish your wine and come give me my present.” Snuggled down into the several festive quilts and blankets layering the bed, she smiled suggestively at him.
Newsie sighed, closed his eyes, and gulped the wine. Immediately he felt a bit heady, and put out a hand to steady himself. He fumbled his glasses off and set them safely on the nightstand, then patted around the edge of the bed seeking a way in. Giggling, Gina lifted the covers enough for him to slide in next to her, and turned off the bedside lamp. Although his Christmas-tree nightlight instantly took up the task of dim illumination, the Newsman had to peer hard at his beloved to figure out where her mouth was so he could kiss her. She startled him by grabbing his robe and tugging it off him. “Gina!” he protested, but she only giggled again.
“Oh my gosh! Not that! Why, I might see you naked!” she exclaimed.
He could feel himself blushing yet again. “Er…no…I mean…it’s cold!” Shivering, he scrunched himself farther down under the covers, his nose and eyes barely showing above the edges.
“So get over here. I’ll keep you warm.”
Feeling fuzzy in mind as well as body, he wriggled closer, and gasped as she suddenly took hold of him and pulled him atop her. How did she undress so fast? he wondered. He could feel goosebumps on her skin… “You seem to be the one who needs a bedwarmer,” he pointed out, pleased.
“Oh, Newsie…” she sighed, her arms crossing over his back, gently pressing him close to her. “My sweet Muppet…”
“Yours,” he murmured agreement, nuzzling her neck with his pointed nose, making her giggle. “Now…what sort of present were you hoping for, you devious creature?”
He inhaled sharply when she aided him in assuming the same state she was already in. “I like this one just fine,” she whispered, and he shuddered in delight at her touch. “All warm and fuzzy…mmmm.”
“Oh, Gina…” he sighed, eyes closing, senses momentarily overwhelmed by those delicate fingers brushing over his rear, up his spine, down his ribs… He rubbed against her, loving her skin’s light resistance to his felt, every nerve tugged awake by the friction.
“I love it when you do that,” Gina said. She found his mouth in the near-darkness, her tongue plunging between his lips, the oddly dry feel of them strangely exciting. His tongue had the texture of damp fabric, the wine well soaked in as she’d hoped it would; she sucked his tongue, feeling his muffled groan. She curled one arm around his waist, pressing him tightly against her, until with a gasp he broke away.
“Ah…ah…Gina…holy Murrow, you…you do such amazing things!” he panted, eyes wide, simply clinging to her.
She laughed, toying with his thick, furlike hair, enjoying the happy squirming this produced, her touch arousing him deliberately. “You’re the amazing one, my sweet Aloysius. You always feel so…so…” She couldn’t think of a more dignified word, and so used the first one at hand: “Cuddleable.”
He raised himself off of her enough to give her a scowl. “I’m cuddleable? Is that even a word?”
Gina started giggling. Newsie tried to keep up the serious face, but she attacked him with kisses all over his nose, and he lost it, breaking into snickers and chuckles and finally tilting his head so his nose wouldn’t poke her, and kissing his way into her mouth with a determination which brooked no resistance. Not that she gave him any. After some minutes of this, Gina pulled back slightly, studying him.
He lay close against her, every inch of warm soft felt pressed wonderfully upon her. His eyes, half-closed, appeared warm and content, those dark brows smoothed out across his forehead in comfortable relaxation, a smile just touching his wide mouth. Most girls, she knew, wouldn’t have considered him handsome…which made him all the more attractive to her. He had acquired a confidence in her arms this past year, but still carried himself like a man unsure of his own consequence, self-respecting finally but never self-aggrandizing. It lent his every gesture a subtle shyness which Gina found irresistible. He reached up a broad, soft hand and gently stroked her cheek. “Warm enough yet?” he murmured.
“Very,” she replied, and he smiled. His body seemed to reflect her own heat; certainly she’d noticed how quickly having him pressed close to her could warm her. He kept brushing his fingers down her cheek and her neck, and she stretched languorously beneath him. “Mmmm…” As much as she enjoyed this, though, questions had nagged her for months, and she realized suddenly that having him here, a little tipsy, might be the right time to finally broach them. “Aloysius?”
“Hmm?” He blinked sleepily at her, still smiling, completely trusting.
To show him her question wasn’t meant to be a judgment, she stroked one hand through his hair, down the back of his neck, feeling him tense in all the right spots. “Can you explain something to me about…about Muppets?”
“Sure,” he said, rubbing his shorter frame slowly along hers.
Oh, man, that felt so good… Trying to focus past this distraction, Gina continued quietly, “You’ve mentioned…felt. And foam…and, well…”
He simply gazed into her eyes, curious, reassured by her touch, relaxed by the wine. Gina took a deep breath, and asked, “How…how is that possible? You’re…you’re not a puppet or a toy. You’re alive.”
He thought about it a long moment. “Uh…well…it’s just…it’s just how Muppets are, I guess. Our skin is a little…feltish.”
“But you have bones, right? You have blood, you eat and sleep and do everything else pretty much the same as regular people…”
“Gina,” he said softly, sounding pained, “Muppets are regular people.” He peered closely at her eyes, and she felt ashamed for having asked. “Do I…do you think I…I’m weird? Just…because my skin is fuzzy? Because my body is, er, more resilient than yours?”
“No. Not weird, no! Newsie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Gina said, unable to meet his gaze. He touched her chin with those soft, nubbly fingers, and when she looked up, she saw his unease all over his face.
“I thought…you said…I thought you liked the way I feel.”
“Aloysius,” she whispered, pulling him close, kissing his cheek, his long nose, his strong jaw. “I do. I always do. You feel wonderful. I love your…your felt touching me. Everywhere,” she gulped, wishing she’d never said anything.
He blinked at her, and she saw moisture at the corners of his eyes. “Gina…what am I to you?”
“Oh, Newsie,” she choked, and hugged him tight. “Newsie, I’m sorry. You’re perfect, that’s what you are! You’re sharp-minded and kind-hearted and…” she took another deep breath, “Mine. And I don’t care how different. Okay?”
“Promise?”
She kissed him long and soft then, tasting his tongue, raking her fingers down his back lightly. “I promise, my Aloysius. My Muppet.” She stared hard at him, making sure he saw how serious she was. “My beloved, always.”
He sighed, sinking into her embrace with a shiver. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel strange.”
“It’s…you have every right to be curious. I know that. Lots of non-felted people think we’re…odd. It’s just…” He blinked back a tear, looking ashamed. “I don’t want you to think of me like that. Like a…a freak. Not you.”
“I don’t! Not at all! I love how you are!” Gina protested. “You’re sweet, and caring, and I love how you make love with me…and I love your felt.” She gave him a defiant look. “Felt! There. I said it. Felt felt felt!”
He gave her a startled look, then slowly began to smile. “Sure about that?”
“D--d right I am! Your felt is wonderful! I love the way you feel!”
“Hm. What about the foam?” he asked, and immediately Gina knew everything was right and good again.
“Ha,” she said, and started to grin at him. “I’m not sure. I like hugging you, so I guess the foam is pretty cuddleable…”
“You keep using that word,” he objected, but she cut him off, one hand sliding down his stomach and finding something somewhat less soft. He gasped.
“I think this needs more investigating,” she teased.
When he’d regained his breath, he dared her, “Then you should pursue the story! Examine the differences closely before drawing any conclusions!”
“Oh my. How am I going to do that?”
Grinning at her, Newsie started wriggling himself down her body. “I suggest…you obtain a very inside source…”
“How inside?” she giggled, then cried out as he stroked his fingers in exactly the right spot. Before she could react fully, he manuevered himself so that she cried out in surprise and delight, “Oh Newsie!”
He sighed happily, slowly but firmly rocking his hips. The immediate sensation of it was more than Gina could take. She bucked, she grabbed his shoulders tightly: “Newsie, Newsie, Newsie!”
Doing his best not to give in to that delirious heat so soon, he held on, waiting until she’d calmed somewhat, and muttered at her as he began a slow rhythm, “So what does that feel like?”
“Ohhh,” she panted, moving with him, her hands roving his shoulders, his hair, his face. “Feels like…your…your felt…”
“And?” he huffed, keeping his pace steady, the heat of her body begging him to drown himself in it, but he held back, even when she stroked his rear, squeezing him.
“Foam,” she laughed breathlessly, and tried to urge him to go faster, but he surprised her by taking her hands in his and holding them down on the mattress by her sides.
“That’s right,” he growled, delighted that she was allowing him to take charge. “Felt and foam and blood and bone. And one hundred per cent Muppet!”
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes shining at him.
He pushed more strongly, loving the way she squeaked and squirmed; she was strong enough to break his grip but chose not to, and that pleased him. “And do you like that, Gypsy girl?”
“Yes…”
“Do you?”
“Yes!”
Panting, he increased his pace, the friction of her skin rubbing his maddening, lovely. “Then tell me!”
“Aloysius!” she laughed, but he pushed harder, making her shudder in delight. “Yes! I love it! I love the way you feel!” He groaned, shoving as hard as he could, and she shrieked. “Yes! I love being loved by a Muppet!”
“Gina!” he shouted, the wave crashing through him; she broke free of his hands, her own seizing his back and pulling him tight against her, straining, screaming wordlessly. Newsie’s eyes shut, a glorious dark wave lifting his heart, the beautiful shock of it sweeping through his whole body, leaving him senseless. Gina kept crying, and pulling at him, and squeezing him against her, and dear frog it was so wonderful of her to do that, to hold him so strongly and so, so tight against her, he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t care, he…he passed out.
Gina held him tight, sobbing, overwhelmed. When she realized he’d slumped atop her she released her grip. “Newsie? Newsie?” Worried, she stroked the hair off his forehead. He sighed, and gently stirred, and Gina curled up to kiss his face, still holding him. “Newsie…I love you…”
“I love you,” he whispered. He realized her fingertips were roving gently, lovely soft brushings of her skin across his sensitized felt everywhere, his brow, his nose, his jawline, down his neck, stroking his weary arms. With a vast sigh he melted atop her. “Don’t ever stop that,” he murmured, and she giggled lightly.
“I won’t, believe me,” she said, her voice low and amused. “Holy heck. Where did that all come from?”
Feeling dazed, he tried to shrug. “I…I’m not sure. Maybe the wine. Uh…I didn’t…didn’t go too hard?”
“Are you kidding? Oh my lord!” Gina laughed, and bent her head to kiss his nose. “My fierce, sexy Muppet! Wow…”
“Grr,” he attempted, and she burst into laughter that shook them both. Grinning, he held on, enjoying the further friction this produced. “Mmm…”
Gina felt him twitch and stir. “Newsie? Are you waking up again already?”
He kissed all he could reach, Gina shivering and clutching him tight. “Hm. Could be. We should determine if there’s any truth to that rumor.”
“What rumor?”
“The one about Muppets having a great deal of endurance…”
Gina smiled, and slowly pushed her hips up to meet his, loving the soft-scratchy feel of him. “Mmmm…my Newsie…are you going to hold me down again?”
He blinked uncertainly. “Er…I have no idea where that came from…do you…do you want me to?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “I don’t think you have it in you.”
“Oh no?” His eyes narrowed as he smiled in return. “Seems to me I do indeed have something in you!”
“And just what do you intend to do with that, my sexy journalist?”
Emboldened, he stretched upwards to whisper to her, “I’m going to enjoy you all night, that’s what.” Delighted by her sharp breath at that, he began moving again, their union slicker than before, nicely warm and still with just enough delicious rubbing to make things very interesting.
Gina giggled, and lowered her arms to her sides, and smiled at him as he gently pressed his hands over her wrists. “Oh, my. I need to get you drunk more often.”
He growled at her, shoving himself forward, rewarded by her back arching, her legs tensing and suddenly wrapping around his, trapping him. “Oh, Gina!” he groaned, and allowed his thoughts to subside in the beautiful rhythm of their bodies rocking together, felt rubbing skin and being rubbed by it in return.
Gina gasped, and half-laughed, “I should wrap you and put you under the tree.”
“You already unwrapped me,” he pointed out, drawing another giggle from her; “Now you have to play with me!”
And then he shifted a little, and that warm scratchiness brushed every sensitive spot within and without, and she broke free of his grip and threw her arms around him and strained and cried her joy…and Newsie, squeezed like a favorite stuffed toy, was more than happy to be held just like that.
“All Muppet,” he panted at her, going harder. “Every inch!”
“Yes!” she cried, and not long thereafter they both clutched one another tightly, washed out to sea.
Eventually, laying quietly, Newsie gazed blurrily at the pretty colors of his nightlight, thinking sleepily of Christmases past…and deciding he’d never had such a perfect one as this was shaping up to be. Feeling Newsie’s heart thumping against her skin as he snuggled with her, warm and safe under the blankets, Gina stroked his hair back and studied his expression of ultimate contentment. “My Muppet,” she murmured. “Best. Gift. Ever.”
He smiled, eyes closed. “D--d right I am.”
Gina snickered, and kissed the top of his head. “And he even fits in my stocking.”
“I am not wearing stockings,” he muttered.
“Certainly not. Not anything at all, if I get my wish!”
“Can I have my wish too?”
“Naturally. Which is?”
He gave her a wide, sleepy smile, eyes barely open but shining in the flickering light. “Might be nice to explore that cuddle-toy concept…I always kind of sympathized with the Misfit Toys, you know.”
Gina stared at him a moment; he gave her his best innocent expression. With a wicked chuckle, she grabbed his arms and flipped him like a puppet onto the mattress…which, Newsie decided, was actually kind of fun.
A lot of fun, he amended a few minutes later.
--------------------------
Gina turned the space heater up another notch. “Brrr!”
Newsie nodded approval, huddled next to it. He appreciated not only the new heater’s warming capacity, but also its aesthetic design: they’d shelled out a bit for one of the new mock-fireplaces, a gorgeous thing which resembled the enameled-iron coal-burning style popular in the late Victorian era. Its curving front, filigreed grating, and deep red color complemented Gina’s collection of Art Nouveau things in every room. This one was the right scale to fit next to the sofa in the living room, and the Newsman curled into a small felt lump at one end of the leather seat closest to it, his robe and a large throw blanket enfolding him in a plush cocoon, for the moment not feeling at all silly about the knee-high faux fur slipper booties Gina had given him as an early holiday gift. The soft crackling sound and play of light from the electric grate added to the cozy atmosphere, already encouraged by the multicolored tiny lights blinking softly on their small Fraser fir by the windows, and the deep-red velvet bunting draped in swaths along the poster frames and above the windows and doorways. Sprays of pine and holly decorating numerous carnival glass vases, and jingle bells on the front door, all pleased Newsie’s nose and ears every time he encountered them, but they did little to keep his foam warm in the mid-December cold front.
He and Gina had emerged from a very hot bath together a short while ago, their hope that a long steamy soak would ward off the chill a while dashed as soon as they’d come into the main rooms of the apartment for dinner. “Hopefully they’ll have the gas repaired by tomorrow,” Newsie grumbled.
Gina shook her head, grimacing. “I doubt it. They’ll probably have to check every apartment even after the main line to the building is fixed…and with Christmas almost here, we’ll be lucky if they get around to it before January! I’m just glad we found some decent heaters.” She leaned over to kiss him. “You can be my bedwarmer tonight.”
“Sounds good,” he replied, smiling. “Um…do you need any help in the kitchen?”
“No, it’s just soup. You stay there and drink your tea and I’ll bring the food out in a minute.” She retreated to the archway of the dining room, but paused to look back at him. Adorable, the way he huddles down in the blanket, she thought. She could just barely see his fuzzy fingertips holding his mug of peppermint tea close to his chest. Her own Muppet. With the new film out, millions of people were rediscovering, or newly discovering, fanship for the whole troupe; heck, Piggy alone required two assistants to sort through the cards and read her email! And here he was…her modest, handsome Newsman, still baffled by fame, still shyly happy to be with her. Shaking her head again, but with a smile, Gina continued into the kitchen to ladle out two bowlfuls of the rich beef-and-barley stew leftovers.
Newsie gave her a deeply grateful look when she set the bowl in front of him on the old steamer trunk they used as a coffee table. Gina dragged it closer to the sofa and sat down next to him. “Any blanket you can spare?” she asked, but he was already moving to drape it around her shoulders. “Mmm. Now get over here,” she commanded, pulling him under the comforting plush again.
“Thank you,” he told her, eyes bright behind those clunky hornrims. He delved into the soup immediately. “Oh, frog this is good…”
“You better believe it,” she laughed, starting in on her own bowl. “Nothing like hot soup on a cold night!”
“Nothing like a beautiful woman who knows how to cook,” Newsie murmured, and jumped, startled, when she mock-smacked his shoulder.
“I thought you loved me for my brains!” Gina complained.
To her delight, her Newsman turned crimson. “Well I…er…of course! I mean…nothing like a beautiful smart woman who, uh, also has domestic talents…”
“Newsie, I’m kidding,” she laughed, kissing his prominent nose.
“Right,” he muttered, embarrassed. “I knew that…”
“You wear pink very well.”
“Hmf,” he snorted, blushing again. He ate his soup determinedly.
“No work for you tomorrow?”
“Thankfully,” Newsie sighed. “Of course, since Blanke insisted I take my vacation weekend now, that only means he expects me to work Christmas.”
“Well…at least that won’t be the whole day, right? And I still get you at night…”
He smiled, loving the mischievous wrinkle of her petite nose; that expression always boded well. “At your disposal, Gypsy girl,” he said, and lifted his head for a kiss. Oh, how he especially loved the feel of her soft lips on his own…
She giggled. “News flash! ‘Disposable’ reporter repurposed as cuddle toy!”
The Newsman could feel warmth all across his body at that one. “’Cuddle toy’?” he demanded, scowling, though he couldn’t quite keep a smile from his face.
“Would you prefer another term? Snugglebunny? Body pillow?”
“Stop it,” he muttered, blushing terribly. She planted quick kisses all over his nose and cheeks, and he laughed.
“Hmmm. Finish your soup, Muppet boy. I have plans for you,” she whispered in his ear.
He finished and plunked his bowl down as a challenge, quirking an eyebrow at her. “So? Let’s see these reputed ‘plans’!”
“Oho. He calls my bluff,” Gina snickered. “First one to get their bowl in the sink and mouth rinsed before bed wins!”
Newsie grinned, leaping to his feet, shivering once as his body left the protective warmth of the blanket. He grabbed both bowls and raced into the kitchen, wondering what his prize might be, but Gina stopped him on the way back through the living room, her hand around his arm. Confused, he looked up to see her holding out a bottle of Shiraz. “Not so fast. Rinse with this.” She grinned, daring him.
“With wine?”
“Wine, mouthwash, it’s all alcohol, right?”
“I suppose,” he granted, curious. “Have I had that one before?” Gina’s forays into the world of oenology meant they rarely tried the same wine twice, although she was building a select wine collection in the bottom of the pantry of the vintages both of them had enjoyed more than most. Newsie never had more than a half-glassful, as it made him sleepy; Gina could tolerate it better, though she too drank moderately. She had two of the sleek, gold-rimmed goblets they’d picked out together sitting on the trunk; he liked the way they complemented the red-and-green plaid table runner and small golden candles placed there for the holiday. She invited him, with a gentle tug on his arm, to sit back down. Happy but curious, he did so, and she poured for them both.
“Yes…this is that Argentinean one we tried last week. Nice warm red.”
Newsie sipped it slowly. “Uh…you know alcohol actually lowers your body temperature, right?”
Gina snuggled up next to him, rewrapping the blanket around them both. “Just drink it, dear Public Safety Journalist.”
He’d only taken three or four sips when she surprised him, downing the rest of hers in a couple of gulps, flinging back her half of the blanket, and springing up and out of the room. “Ha ha ha! I win!”
He hurried after her, forgetting to put down his glass. “Hey! But…but…I took your bowl to the sink too!”
“I know,” Gina said, grinning at him as she whipped back the covers on the bed and dove in. “I figured you’d fall for that!”
“Hey!” Newsie sputtered, not sure if he should be annoyed or pleased. “Er…does this mean I have to give you a present now?”
“You bet it does. Drink that off and get in here.”
“Uh…all of it?”
She gave an evil giggle. “Just tilt your head back and toss it down, o Muppet of Moderation! And can you turn the heater on? It’s freezing in here!”
He agreed with that call, anyway. Newsie switched on the slender electric heater they’d purchased for this smaller room, and shut the bedroom door to trap the warmth inside. “Should I go turn off the fireplace? and what about the tree?” he wondered, still eyeing his wineglass dubiously. That was a full finger of wine left! He really shouldn’t…
“Newsie…the heater’s electric and it stays cool to the touch on the outside. Let it run, it’ll make the living room bearable tomorrow morning! And I doubt a string of LEDs will endanger the tree. Now finish your wine and come give me my present.” Snuggled down into the several festive quilts and blankets layering the bed, she smiled suggestively at him.
Newsie sighed, closed his eyes, and gulped the wine. Immediately he felt a bit heady, and put out a hand to steady himself. He fumbled his glasses off and set them safely on the nightstand, then patted around the edge of the bed seeking a way in. Giggling, Gina lifted the covers enough for him to slide in next to her, and turned off the bedside lamp. Although his Christmas-tree nightlight instantly took up the task of dim illumination, the Newsman had to peer hard at his beloved to figure out where her mouth was so he could kiss her. She startled him by grabbing his robe and tugging it off him. “Gina!” he protested, but she only giggled again.
“Oh my gosh! Not that! Why, I might see you naked!” she exclaimed.
He could feel himself blushing yet again. “Er…no…I mean…it’s cold!” Shivering, he scrunched himself farther down under the covers, his nose and eyes barely showing above the edges.
“So get over here. I’ll keep you warm.”
Feeling fuzzy in mind as well as body, he wriggled closer, and gasped as she suddenly took hold of him and pulled him atop her. How did she undress so fast? he wondered. He could feel goosebumps on her skin… “You seem to be the one who needs a bedwarmer,” he pointed out, pleased.
“Oh, Newsie…” she sighed, her arms crossing over his back, gently pressing him close to her. “My sweet Muppet…”
“Yours,” he murmured agreement, nuzzling her neck with his pointed nose, making her giggle. “Now…what sort of present were you hoping for, you devious creature?”
He inhaled sharply when she aided him in assuming the same state she was already in. “I like this one just fine,” she whispered, and he shuddered in delight at her touch. “All warm and fuzzy…mmmm.”
“Oh, Gina…” he sighed, eyes closing, senses momentarily overwhelmed by those delicate fingers brushing over his rear, up his spine, down his ribs… He rubbed against her, loving her skin’s light resistance to his felt, every nerve tugged awake by the friction.
“I love it when you do that,” Gina said. She found his mouth in the near-darkness, her tongue plunging between his lips, the oddly dry feel of them strangely exciting. His tongue had the texture of damp fabric, the wine well soaked in as she’d hoped it would; she sucked his tongue, feeling his muffled groan. She curled one arm around his waist, pressing him tightly against her, until with a gasp he broke away.
“Ah…ah…Gina…holy Murrow, you…you do such amazing things!” he panted, eyes wide, simply clinging to her.
She laughed, toying with his thick, furlike hair, enjoying the happy squirming this produced, her touch arousing him deliberately. “You’re the amazing one, my sweet Aloysius. You always feel so…so…” She couldn’t think of a more dignified word, and so used the first one at hand: “Cuddleable.”
He raised himself off of her enough to give her a scowl. “I’m cuddleable? Is that even a word?”
Gina started giggling. Newsie tried to keep up the serious face, but she attacked him with kisses all over his nose, and he lost it, breaking into snickers and chuckles and finally tilting his head so his nose wouldn’t poke her, and kissing his way into her mouth with a determination which brooked no resistance. Not that she gave him any. After some minutes of this, Gina pulled back slightly, studying him.
He lay close against her, every inch of warm soft felt pressed wonderfully upon her. His eyes, half-closed, appeared warm and content, those dark brows smoothed out across his forehead in comfortable relaxation, a smile just touching his wide mouth. Most girls, she knew, wouldn’t have considered him handsome…which made him all the more attractive to her. He had acquired a confidence in her arms this past year, but still carried himself like a man unsure of his own consequence, self-respecting finally but never self-aggrandizing. It lent his every gesture a subtle shyness which Gina found irresistible. He reached up a broad, soft hand and gently stroked her cheek. “Warm enough yet?” he murmured.
“Very,” she replied, and he smiled. His body seemed to reflect her own heat; certainly she’d noticed how quickly having him pressed close to her could warm her. He kept brushing his fingers down her cheek and her neck, and she stretched languorously beneath him. “Mmmm…” As much as she enjoyed this, though, questions had nagged her for months, and she realized suddenly that having him here, a little tipsy, might be the right time to finally broach them. “Aloysius?”
“Hmm?” He blinked sleepily at her, still smiling, completely trusting.
To show him her question wasn’t meant to be a judgment, she stroked one hand through his hair, down the back of his neck, feeling him tense in all the right spots. “Can you explain something to me about…about Muppets?”
“Sure,” he said, rubbing his shorter frame slowly along hers.
Oh, man, that felt so good… Trying to focus past this distraction, Gina continued quietly, “You’ve mentioned…felt. And foam…and, well…”
He simply gazed into her eyes, curious, reassured by her touch, relaxed by the wine. Gina took a deep breath, and asked, “How…how is that possible? You’re…you’re not a puppet or a toy. You’re alive.”
He thought about it a long moment. “Uh…well…it’s just…it’s just how Muppets are, I guess. Our skin is a little…feltish.”
“But you have bones, right? You have blood, you eat and sleep and do everything else pretty much the same as regular people…”
“Gina,” he said softly, sounding pained, “Muppets are regular people.” He peered closely at her eyes, and she felt ashamed for having asked. “Do I…do you think I…I’m weird? Just…because my skin is fuzzy? Because my body is, er, more resilient than yours?”
“No. Not weird, no! Newsie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Gina said, unable to meet his gaze. He touched her chin with those soft, nubbly fingers, and when she looked up, she saw his unease all over his face.
“I thought…you said…I thought you liked the way I feel.”
“Aloysius,” she whispered, pulling him close, kissing his cheek, his long nose, his strong jaw. “I do. I always do. You feel wonderful. I love your…your felt touching me. Everywhere,” she gulped, wishing she’d never said anything.
He blinked at her, and she saw moisture at the corners of his eyes. “Gina…what am I to you?”
“Oh, Newsie,” she choked, and hugged him tight. “Newsie, I’m sorry. You’re perfect, that’s what you are! You’re sharp-minded and kind-hearted and…” she took another deep breath, “Mine. And I don’t care how different. Okay?”
“Promise?”
She kissed him long and soft then, tasting his tongue, raking her fingers down his back lightly. “I promise, my Aloysius. My Muppet.” She stared hard at him, making sure he saw how serious she was. “My beloved, always.”
He sighed, sinking into her embrace with a shiver. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel strange.”
“It’s…you have every right to be curious. I know that. Lots of non-felted people think we’re…odd. It’s just…” He blinked back a tear, looking ashamed. “I don’t want you to think of me like that. Like a…a freak. Not you.”
“I don’t! Not at all! I love how you are!” Gina protested. “You’re sweet, and caring, and I love how you make love with me…and I love your felt.” She gave him a defiant look. “Felt! There. I said it. Felt felt felt!”
He gave her a startled look, then slowly began to smile. “Sure about that?”
“D--d right I am! Your felt is wonderful! I love the way you feel!”
“Hm. What about the foam?” he asked, and immediately Gina knew everything was right and good again.
“Ha,” she said, and started to grin at him. “I’m not sure. I like hugging you, so I guess the foam is pretty cuddleable…”
“You keep using that word,” he objected, but she cut him off, one hand sliding down his stomach and finding something somewhat less soft. He gasped.
“I think this needs more investigating,” she teased.
When he’d regained his breath, he dared her, “Then you should pursue the story! Examine the differences closely before drawing any conclusions!”
“Oh my. How am I going to do that?”
Grinning at her, Newsie started wriggling himself down her body. “I suggest…you obtain a very inside source…”
“How inside?” she giggled, then cried out as he stroked his fingers in exactly the right spot. Before she could react fully, he manuevered himself so that she cried out in surprise and delight, “Oh Newsie!”
He sighed happily, slowly but firmly rocking his hips. The immediate sensation of it was more than Gina could take. She bucked, she grabbed his shoulders tightly: “Newsie, Newsie, Newsie!”
Doing his best not to give in to that delirious heat so soon, he held on, waiting until she’d calmed somewhat, and muttered at her as he began a slow rhythm, “So what does that feel like?”
“Ohhh,” she panted, moving with him, her hands roving his shoulders, his hair, his face. “Feels like…your…your felt…”
“And?” he huffed, keeping his pace steady, the heat of her body begging him to drown himself in it, but he held back, even when she stroked his rear, squeezing him.
“Foam,” she laughed breathlessly, and tried to urge him to go faster, but he surprised her by taking her hands in his and holding them down on the mattress by her sides.
“That’s right,” he growled, delighted that she was allowing him to take charge. “Felt and foam and blood and bone. And one hundred per cent Muppet!”
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes shining at him.
He pushed more strongly, loving the way she squeaked and squirmed; she was strong enough to break his grip but chose not to, and that pleased him. “And do you like that, Gypsy girl?”
“Yes…”
“Do you?”
“Yes!”
Panting, he increased his pace, the friction of her skin rubbing his maddening, lovely. “Then tell me!”
“Aloysius!” she laughed, but he pushed harder, making her shudder in delight. “Yes! I love it! I love the way you feel!” He groaned, shoving as hard as he could, and she shrieked. “Yes! I love being loved by a Muppet!”
“Gina!” he shouted, the wave crashing through him; she broke free of his hands, her own seizing his back and pulling him tight against her, straining, screaming wordlessly. Newsie’s eyes shut, a glorious dark wave lifting his heart, the beautiful shock of it sweeping through his whole body, leaving him senseless. Gina kept crying, and pulling at him, and squeezing him against her, and dear frog it was so wonderful of her to do that, to hold him so strongly and so, so tight against her, he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t care, he…he passed out.
Gina held him tight, sobbing, overwhelmed. When she realized he’d slumped atop her she released her grip. “Newsie? Newsie?” Worried, she stroked the hair off his forehead. He sighed, and gently stirred, and Gina curled up to kiss his face, still holding him. “Newsie…I love you…”
“I love you,” he whispered. He realized her fingertips were roving gently, lovely soft brushings of her skin across his sensitized felt everywhere, his brow, his nose, his jawline, down his neck, stroking his weary arms. With a vast sigh he melted atop her. “Don’t ever stop that,” he murmured, and she giggled lightly.
“I won’t, believe me,” she said, her voice low and amused. “Holy heck. Where did that all come from?”
Feeling dazed, he tried to shrug. “I…I’m not sure. Maybe the wine. Uh…I didn’t…didn’t go too hard?”
“Are you kidding? Oh my lord!” Gina laughed, and bent her head to kiss his nose. “My fierce, sexy Muppet! Wow…”
“Grr,” he attempted, and she burst into laughter that shook them both. Grinning, he held on, enjoying the further friction this produced. “Mmm…”
Gina felt him twitch and stir. “Newsie? Are you waking up again already?”
He kissed all he could reach, Gina shivering and clutching him tight. “Hm. Could be. We should determine if there’s any truth to that rumor.”
“What rumor?”
“The one about Muppets having a great deal of endurance…”
Gina smiled, and slowly pushed her hips up to meet his, loving the soft-scratchy feel of him. “Mmmm…my Newsie…are you going to hold me down again?”
He blinked uncertainly. “Er…I have no idea where that came from…do you…do you want me to?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “I don’t think you have it in you.”
“Oh no?” His eyes narrowed as he smiled in return. “Seems to me I do indeed have something in you!”
“And just what do you intend to do with that, my sexy journalist?”
Emboldened, he stretched upwards to whisper to her, “I’m going to enjoy you all night, that’s what.” Delighted by her sharp breath at that, he began moving again, their union slicker than before, nicely warm and still with just enough delicious rubbing to make things very interesting.
Gina giggled, and lowered her arms to her sides, and smiled at him as he gently pressed his hands over her wrists. “Oh, my. I need to get you drunk more often.”
He growled at her, shoving himself forward, rewarded by her back arching, her legs tensing and suddenly wrapping around his, trapping him. “Oh, Gina!” he groaned, and allowed his thoughts to subside in the beautiful rhythm of their bodies rocking together, felt rubbing skin and being rubbed by it in return.
Gina gasped, and half-laughed, “I should wrap you and put you under the tree.”
“You already unwrapped me,” he pointed out, drawing another giggle from her; “Now you have to play with me!”
And then he shifted a little, and that warm scratchiness brushed every sensitive spot within and without, and she broke free of his grip and threw her arms around him and strained and cried her joy…and Newsie, squeezed like a favorite stuffed toy, was more than happy to be held just like that.
“All Muppet,” he panted at her, going harder. “Every inch!”
“Yes!” she cried, and not long thereafter they both clutched one another tightly, washed out to sea.
Eventually, laying quietly, Newsie gazed blurrily at the pretty colors of his nightlight, thinking sleepily of Christmases past…and deciding he’d never had such a perfect one as this was shaping up to be. Feeling Newsie’s heart thumping against her skin as he snuggled with her, warm and safe under the blankets, Gina stroked his hair back and studied his expression of ultimate contentment. “My Muppet,” she murmured. “Best. Gift. Ever.”
He smiled, eyes closed. “D--d right I am.”
Gina snickered, and kissed the top of his head. “And he even fits in my stocking.”
“I am not wearing stockings,” he muttered.
“Certainly not. Not anything at all, if I get my wish!”
“Can I have my wish too?”
“Naturally. Which is?”
He gave her a wide, sleepy smile, eyes barely open but shining in the flickering light. “Might be nice to explore that cuddle-toy concept…I always kind of sympathized with the Misfit Toys, you know.”
Gina stared at him a moment; he gave her his best innocent expression. With a wicked chuckle, she grabbed his arms and flipped him like a puppet onto the mattress…which, Newsie decided, was actually kind of fun.
A lot of fun, he amended a few minutes later.
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