Richard was a paradox, that was for sure. He’d lived through hell, survived the jungles of Vietnam, being shot at, getting injured. He’d watched people die. He’d lost his best friend over there. Yet he could still blush like that innocent farm boy I’d met last year on our way to Woodstock.

But he was right when he said he had changed. It wasn’t a bad change; it was just that the wide-eyed, innocent shine to his eyes had dulled a little. I guessed war did that. I’d heard a lot about the returned soldiers who had severe psychological issues. But still, society scorned the Vietnam veterans. It was horrible. Richard had suffered indescribable horrors over there and now returned to have his own country hate him for it.

I would try and protect him from that ugliness all I could, and if cocooning him in the apartment and surrounding him with love was all I could do, then I would damn well do it.

On that first night, after Kat had rendered him speechless with embarrassment, I’d taken him to our room and began to undress him. Slowly revealing each sliver of skin and planting kisses on his chest, his collarbone, his shoulder, his belly. Then I took extra care taking off his pants, paying particular attention to his bandaged leg. I ignored his cock for now, kissing his hip, his thigh, the inner calf of his good leg. Then I took the foot on his injured leg and kissed the top of his foot, his shin, his knee.

He was on the bed, his cock hard and lying across to his hip. I crawled up his legs until I could lick his length and take in his scent. “Remember at Woodstock, you told me you wanted to try everything?”

His head was propped up on a few pillows, his fingers found my hair, and he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I want to show you everything. I want you to experience everything, feel everything.” I nudged his cock with my nose, licked his balls, and made him hiss. “I want to cherish every part of your body, show you how much you mean to me.”

He writhed under me, rolling his hips in search of friction. “I dreamed of this,” he whispered. “Of everything you’d do to me. Since the day I left you standing by the road at Woodstock. All the ways you would make me yours.”

“I don’t want to rush you,” I murmured, tonguing his shaft and sucking the head into my mouth, savoring his taste before pulling off. “But with your leg, we’re going to need to take it slow.”

He nodded, but he was so turned on, I was pretty sure he’d agree to anything. I undid my jeans and kissed up his stomach, his chest, his neck and jaw, finally finding his mouth. I put my weight on him, careful of his leg, and he was grinding against me. Leaning up on one hand, I took my erection out of my briefs and held both our cocks in my hand. Sliding our shafts together, fucking my fist. His eyes were wide, like he’d never seen such a thing done before, and he began to thrust harder and whimper. I crushed my lips against his, plowing my tongue into his mouth, and it was too much for him. He came with a strangled cry, shooting streams of come onto his stomach. The way he pulsed in my hand, against my own cock, brought me undone and I followed quickly after.

We lay there in each other’s arms, me holding him and him holding me. “I can’t believe this is real,” he murmured. “That this is my life.”

“It’s not some acid trip like you had at Woodstock. There are no fluffy bunnies here.”

He froze, then laughed. “Oh my God, I’d forgotten all about that.”

“I haven’t,” I admitted. “Watching you dance in the rain by yourself without a care in the world… I think I fell in love with you right there.”

He pulled back to look me in the eye. “You did?”

I nodded. “Yep. I thought, ‘This man, this beautiful man has to be mine.’”

He snuggled back in. “I am. I am yours.”

I tightened my hold on him. “I know. And I am yours.”

After a moment, he said, “I fell in love with you the second I saw you in that diner.”

I chuckled. “You told me that in a letter.”

“It’s the truth. You asked if you could sit down, and I looked up into the most handsome face I’d ever seen. With eyes I could get lost in, and the kindest smile.” He was quiet a moment. “Or maybe it was when you made love to me that very first time. The way you moved inside me. I didn’t know men could love that way. Or maybe it was when I got your first letter when I was overseas. Or every letter. I think I fell in love with you a little more every letter I got. But then there was that moment you walked into the hospital that first time and I’d almost given up hope, but you walked in, and the moment you saw me, I knew. I knew from the look on your face that there’d never be another man for me.”

I pulled his face to mine and kissed him, trying to tell him what my words couldn’t say. When the kiss slowed to a stop, I pulled him back into my arms. “I love you,” I said. “And I am so glad you’re here.”

Leaving him asleep in my bed the next morning to go to work was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I could’ve easily stayed in bed with him, talking and laughing, making out and making love. But I’d already taken all the days off I could and we needed the money, so with a kiss to his forehead, I went to work.

I told myself the next two days when he would be at home by himself would be good for him. He could take a short walk and find his bearings in this new city. The apartment was kind of close to everything, and he could catch a bus or a tram to anywhere he needed. And letting him do it at his pace felt like the right thing to do.

I resisted calling home during the day, even though I thought of him a hundred times. But man, I was anxious to get home. Just knowing he was there waiting for me was the absolute highlight of my day.

I slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door, all but falling inside. He poked his head out from the kitchen, and seeing it was me, he walked out to greet me. He limped on his cane, but his smile was wide. “I’m so glad to see you,” he said.

I took his face in my hands and kissed him. “Everything okay? How was your day?”

“It was fine,” he replied. “I went for a walk to the end of the block. The sun was nice, and it felt great to get out.”

“How was your leg?”

“It doesn’t like the stairs much, but it was fine. I didn’t realize how tired I would get, that’s all. I’m sure if I do it every day I’ll be able to get a little farther each time.”

I kissed him again. “I’m proud of you.”

That made him smile. “Thank you.”

“Is that dinner I can smell?”

“Well it’s supposed to be,” he replied. “But it might need some help.”

I laughed at that and we went into the kitchen. It was some kind of goulash and it smelled just fine, but he smelled better. I pushed him against the kitchen counter, careful of his leg, and pressed my body against his.

He was quick to respond, our mouths and our hands becoming desperate, fevered. I couldn’t get enough of him. “When will Kat be home?” he asked breathily as I kissed down his neck.

“We’ve got about thirty minutes,” I replied, fumbling with his button fly.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he said, undoing my trousers. He slid his hand into my briefs and wrapped his fingers around me.

He was right. We shouldn’t do this here. I pulled his hand out and, keeping hold of it, led him to our room. “Sit on the edge of the bed,” I ordered. He limped over to it and sat, keeping his left leg out straight. I walked over and stood in front of him. “Is your leg okay?”

He nodded, looking up at me with his kiss-swollen lips and darkened eyes.

Then I freed my hard cock. “Good.” I put my thumb to his bottom lip. “Open wide.”

He licked his lips and smiled.

The next day was much the same. I had to go to work and Richard had plans to find the closest VA office and make sure his paperwork was all up to date. I asked if he wanted me to go with him, given how the protests were still going on, but he was adamant. I left my work phone number with him in case he needed it, kissed him goodbye, and went to work.

I was anxious all day, and I raced home from the bus. “Richard?” I called out as I came to the door. “Richard?”

He walked out from the hall, limping on his cane. “What’s wrong?”

Relief flooded through me the moment I saw him. I put my hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been worried about you all day,” I replied, pulling him in for a hug.

“Worried about what? It was just paperwork. A change of address, that’s all.”

I laughed with relief. “No protesters?”

He shook his head. “Nope. But I’m making chili for dinner. I think it could use some more flavor.”

I laughed again, kissed him soundly on the lips, and went into the kitchen to save dinner.

We spent the night on the couch watching television: Kat on one sofa, Richard and me on the other. It was so normal and boring, and utterly perfect.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Kat asked during a commercial.

“We’re going Christmas tree shopping,” I answered. I didn’t even try to hide how excited I was. “We’re gonna get a tree and decorations. Maybe even a gift or two.”

Richard sat with his back against my chest and I hooked my arm over his shoulder. “Just how much walking is involved tomorrow?”

I laughed. “Not much.” I also knew he was worried about spending money. He’d said before he didn’t have much money for Christmas. “The tree lot is just two blocks over, and there’s a huge thrift store close by.”

“Oh,” Kat said. “I need a new coat.”

“You should come with us,” Richard said. Then he looked at me and cringed. “Sorry. I should have asked if that was okay with you first.”

I gave him a squeeze. “That’s a great idea. The three of us should go. We can choose the tree, pick out decorations, and buy a small gift or two from the store. It’ll be perfect.” Kat was happy with that, and Richard smiled. He relaxed back against me and I gave him a gentle squeeze. “We can get a whole bunch of stuff to make the apartment look all Christmassy. It doesn’t have to cost us a fortune. We’ll check out the thrift store and see what we can put together.”

“You’re really excited about it, aren’t you?” Kat asked.

I nodded and kissed the side of Richard’s head. “I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

Winter in San Francisco was nowhere near as cold as back home. There was no snow for one thing, which would make Christmas different for us, but I was grateful because it meant Richard could walk on the sidewalks without worrying too much about slipping or sliding—or worse, falling—with his injured leg.

We walked at his pace to the tree lot and picked out a small but healthy-looking tree that would fit in our apartment. “You guys head to the thrift store, and I’ll run the tree back home so we don’t have to carry it everywhere. It’ll give you both time to buy me something small, because I’m totally not opposed to surprise Christmas gifts.”

Richard laughed and Kat linked her arm through his and they walked toward the thrift store while I lugged the small tree back to the apartment. I also wanted them to have some time to talk without me being around, and this was the perfect opportunity. I wanted them to become friends. More for Richard’s sake than Kat’s. I mean, I wanted her to like him, which she already did. But his social circles were nonexistent right now, and if anyone could help him make friends, it was Kat.

People were also less suspicious of Kat and Richard together than they were of Richard and me together. Sure, times were changing and San Francisco and California were open-minded places, but being gay was still frowned upon by most, and it was, above everything else, against the law.

By the time I got back to the thrift store, I found them toward the rear. It was a large store with quite a few rows of clothes and household items. Kat was trying on scarves and coats and Richard was laughing at something she’d said. The sight and sound of that were almost worth the splinters and stitch in my side from hurriedly taking the tree back by myself.

“Oh, Gary,” Kat said. She spotted me first. “What do you think of this one?” She pulled the scarf from around her neck. It was purple and orange and kinda gaudy but also kinda cool.

“It’d match your purple coat,” I said. I walked down the aisle she was in, across a row of waist-high shelves of scarves and hats, to where Richard stood on the other side.

“And my orange shoes!” she said, cheerfully.

“I told her she should get it,” Richard said with a smile.

“Did you find anything?” I asked him.

“Nothing yet. This place is huge.” He looked down the aisle. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“What did you need?” I asked him.

“A coat.” He shrugged. “Maybe some slacks and some sweatpants. I have those two shirts you bought me, so maybe a sweater.”

I could tell he felt a little bad. He’d basically moved in with nothing, and here he was shopping in a secondhand store, so I wanted to make this fun. I held up coat after coat, sweater after sweater, and slacks, pants, and sweats, making jokes and trying and succeeding in making him laugh.

It was my most favorite sound.

Aside from the sounds he made in bed, that is, but his laughter truly made my heart happy.

Once we’d found him a few new things to wear, we began on the Christmas decorations. We found tinsel and baubles, tree ornaments, and a tablecloth with snowmen on it. There was even a small plastic tree for a centerpiece.

But as we shopped and spent time rummaging through discount bins near the service counter, I noticed Richard shifting his weight off his bad leg and leaning a little.

“We’re almost done,” I said. “But here, take a seat.” There were two seats beside the service counter, which I assumed were for staff during quiet times.

The small older lady behind the counter came over. “Yes, take a seat, dear,” she said. She had long gray hair pulled up in a twist, wore an apron, and she looked frail, though I didn’t doubt she worked fourteen-hour days. She had a kind face and helped Richard into the seat, which he took gratefully.

I left him in her good company while I found three stockings to hang up, and while Richard was distracted, I murmured to Kat, “Help! I need to find him something.”

“He looked at that a few times,” she whispered, nodding toward the shelves of knick-knacks. “The wooden cigar box.”

“He did?”

“Yep. Opened, looked it over. Checked the price and put it back.” She picked up some reindeer figurines and pretended to inspect them. “But his eyes kept going back to it.”

I had no idea what he would want the box for, but it sounded as if he clearly liked it. I looked over to where Richard was sitting, and when I saw he was chatting with the sales lady, I snuck over and grabbed the box. There were two silver photo frames alongside it, so I picked them up as well. I went back to where Kat was now inspecting some garlands and stashed the box and the photo frames in among all the Christmas decorations. “When we leave,” I said. “I’ll pretend I’ve forgotten something and come back and get them.”

“Good idea.” She took her collection over to the sales counter and smiled at Richard. “Did you want anything else?”

“No thank you,” he said politely. He got to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane, and he limped over to us.”

“You okay?” I asked, dumping my shopping on the counter so I could look at him properly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Leg’s just a bit sore.”

I noticed then that he was holding something. “What did you find?”

“Oh,” he said, glancing toward the older lady he been speaking to. “Betty here thought I might like this.”

He held out what she’d given him. It was a Christmas ornament. An angel, carved out of wood and painted gold. It was bigger than his hand; the angel’s wings were outstretched and she had a serene look on her face. It looked old, a little worn as though it was well loved, and it was beautiful.

“She said I could have it,” Richard explained.

“That’s not exactly true,” Betty said from behind the counter. “I found that angel thrown in with all the other Christmas decorations, but no one knows where it came from. It wasn’t in the bag with the others when we got it. It’s like it just appeared overnight, and I said to Macy that I’d keep it aside for someone special. I thought this angel is just waiting for the right person to come along. Someone who needs an angel’s help.” She gave a determined nod toward Richard. “And then this nice young man tells me he’s just returned from that horrible war. My Harold fought in the Second World War so I know well enough the angel found her someone special to look after this Christmas.”

Richard’s eyes were glassy. He was clearly touched by her words and her generosity. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

She popped the angel in a bag for him. “Just remember,” she said. “I’m gifting it to you. When you no longer need her help, you make sure you pass her along to someone who does.”

Richard nodded solemnly. “I will.”

She rang up our other items, which Kat and I paid for, then she wished us a Merry Christmas. “Same to you,” I said in return.

We made our way out of the store onto the sidewalk. The wind had picked up and there was a chill in the air. The blue sky was gone, and in its place were dark and gloomy clouds with the threat of rain. We’d only done a few steps when I said, “Oh, I must’ve left my wallet. You two keep going and I’ll catch up.” I turned quickly and ran back into the store before Richard could question me. I found the box and the photo frames I’d stashed and took them to the counter.

“Did you forget something?” Betty asked.

“Yes. I wanted to grab these for my friend as a gift, but I didn’t want him to see.” She rung up the items, wrapped them in some tissue paper, and bagged them. “Thank you again for the angel. It was very kind of you, and it meant a lot to him.”

“My pleasure, dear,” she said sweetly. “I would guess that boy has been through hell, so he’s going to need some good friends like you around him.”

“Good friends and the lucky Christmas angel,” I said.

She beamed up at me. “Merry Christmas.”

I took my bags and left the store with a smile. Yes, Richard had been through hell, but he was home now. And I was now more determined to make this the best Christmas ever.

But I turned the corner, and what I saw made my stomach drop to my feet. Richard was huddled on the sidewalk with his back to the wall and his hands over his ears. Kat stood over him looking around, helpless and scared to death. I hadn’t even noticed the noise overhead. But then I looked up and I saw it. A news channel helicopter flew overhead just above the buildings, so close I could see the pop rivets in the undercarriage.

And Richard was screaming.