A Chorus of Carols

There was some kind of noise happening in Judah’s house. Between the bird songs and the howling, there was singing. A sound very much not typical inside his home.

He followed the sound, peeking into different rooms, and finally, when he found the origin, he watched silently. He observed the scene in front of him.

His decorative pillows were on the floor, Whiskey and Tango, his and Hart’s Wulvens were lying and sitting on two of them, howling softly with the song. Meanwhile, Pinot and Toaster, their Avias, were perched on a stack of books that read “Holiday Traditions” and “So You Wanna Celebrate Cherubmas”.  Judah looked at the pamphlet Hart held in his hands. “Holiday Hymns”, it read.

“Learnin’ carols?” He asked after a moment.

Hart squeaked in surprise, dropping his pamphlet and startling the pets. “Judah!”

Judah frowned.

“I heard people singing carols outside. I thought I would learn some. Do you want to sing with me?”

He continued to frown. “I ain’t much for singin’,” he said. “Why’re the pillas on the floor?”

Hart shrank into himself a bit. “I thought they would be more comfortable. Since they’re not allowed on the furniture,” he replied. “Are the pillows considered furniture?”

Judah took a deep breath and sighed. “No,” he admitted, “they ain’t furniture. ‘n I suppose they can use ‘em for now. Tango and Whiskey do look mighty comfy.”—maybe he should buy them beds of their own so they’d stop trying to get into his.

“So,” Hart started, “is it okay if I keep singing?”

“Is it okay?” Judah furrowed his brows. “Of course, it’s okay. Sing to ya heart's content.”

“But you’re not going to sing with me?”

Judah purposefully turned his attention to the Avias to avoid looking at Hart’s doe-eyed pout. They looked back at him, and Toaster chirped. “I told ya, I ain’t the singin’ type.”

“Can you sing?” Hart questioned.

His question took Judah off guard, and his attention snapped back to Hart. “I’cn sing,” he blurted. “I just don’ like doin’ it very much.”

Hart’s pout caught him. “Sing with me, please?”

Damn Hart and his damn pout. Damn this bun’s cuteness and his own inability to say no. Judah balled his fists and fought back a stomp, tapping his toes instead as his tail whipped back and forth behind him.

“Judah,” Hart practically whined.

“Fine,” Judah cracked. “I’ll sing with ya. Jus’ a couple o’ songs, though.” He couldn’t believe he’d fallen so quickly. Damn his weakness towards Hart. He wished he could be legitimately angry about it, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t angry or upset. He was more annoyed at himself for being so easily swayed by someone so cute.

Defeatedly, Judah took a seat next to Hart on the floor, sitting on one of his decorative pillows. He looked over the song Hart had opened. It was simple and easy to read—the notes weren’t difficult.

Hart began singing before he did, but he caught up quickly. Judah’s accent was thick as he sang, and Hart giggled when he fumbled with one of the words because he pronounced it wrong. Toaster and Pinot tweeted and chirped with them, and Whiskey and Tango barked and howled. It was as though they were their own little choir, and Judah could only hope no one from his house wandered over and sneaked a peek.

When one song was over, they began another, and though Judah would never speak it aloud, he was actually having a good time. He wouldn’t call it fun, not really, but he was enjoying it. Again, not that he would admit it.

They started a third song, and Hart moved closer, leaning against Judah’s shoulder. Judah raised an eyebrow but continued to sing, and once they were done, he looked down to see Hart beaming up at him. “Are you gettin’ tired?” Judah asked him.

Hart shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I just like the sound of your voice. You sing really well. Why don’t you like doing it?”

Judah frowned. “Jus’ don’,” he said. “Jus’ ‘cause I’m good at it, don’ mean I haveta like doin’ it.”

It was Hart’s turn to frown—not a good look, that was certain. “But why?”

The man shrugged. “Ya doin’ have to like everythin’ ya do, even if yer good at it.” He wasn’t sure Hart would understand, but it was worth a try. “If you want me ta sing with ya, I will, ‘cause I enjoy spendin’ time with you.”

Hart’s cheeks flushed red. “Do you… want to sing another song?”

“We have a whole choir,” Judah said, gesturing to the pets, “’n they seem to wanna keep singin’ too.”

Still blushing, Hart nodded. “Let’s sing another one, then.”

Judah nodded, and they began their next song.

Truth be told, Judah wasn’t one for festivities. He enjoyed hosting parties, but they were never for anything other than obtaining clientele. Thanks to Hart, they had wreaths and decorations. Now, they had songs. As active as the house typically was, it felt cosier and more like a home again instead of simply business. It was nice. Even if that meant that Judah would have to participate in activities he usually wouldn’t, it was just something he would have to get used to. It was only a matter of time before Hart dragged him into doing something else Cherubmas. All he could do now was let him. It wasn’t all bad, after all.