Coming home from work had never been so high up on my agenda. When I was in college, going back to my dorm room had been the last thing on my mind. I wanted to hang out with friends, meet in coffee houses or diners, discussing current affairs and how technology was going to change the world.

Now all I wanted to do was go home, throw my arms around Richard, and spend the night cuddling up on the couch.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved my job. Technology was going to change the world, and being part of a group of like-minded, driven people in what could be the beginning of a very big thing was invigorating. But being greeted by Richard with a kiss and hug was by far the highlight of my day.

He’d spent all day yesterday taking it easy, but he was determined to go out today. He said he was ready and I had to trust his judgment. I made sure he had my work phone number and told him to call if he needed, but I didn’t hear from him. So I was anxious to get home, and the bus ride home seemed to stretch on forever. I had horror scenarios playing in my mind that he’d had another incident, another shitty day, as I’d called it. Maybe another helicopter went overhead, or maybe a car backfired, or maybe some random stranger decided they didn’t like to see a man with a cane and harassed him… Okay, so that was unlikely, but I couldn’t help but worry.

I hurried down the block and raced up the stairs to our door, fumbled with the key, and finally pushed my way inside. “Richard?” I tried to sound calm.

He limped out of the kitchen with his cane and smiled when he saw me. “Oh hey, you’re a little early.”

I peeled off my coat and tossed it on the sofa, then went to him and cupped his face and gave him a soft kiss. “I ran.”

“What for?”

“I missed you,” I answered, only a half lie.

His smile widened. “You were worried.”

“I was. I didn’t hear from you, and I knew you were going out.”

His smile became a frown. “You told me to call if something was wrong. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault. I have an overactive imagination.” I tilted his face up some more and kissed him again, a little deeper this time. “I missed you though. That part was true.”

He slow blinked, his cheeks a little flushed. “I missed you too.”

I slid my hands down his back and pulled our hips together. “You look tired.”

“I am a bit tired,” he admitted. “I walked a ways. Well, for me.” Then he licked his lips and smiled. “Um, I don’t think you were done kissing me.”

I chuckled. “Is that right?”

He nodded and I captured his mouth with mine again, this time taking my time and kissing him thoroughly. We were both breathless when we pulled apart, but I suddenly noticed something I hadn’t before. “What can I smell?”

“Oh,” he said, turning toward the kitchen. “I made dinner. It’s supposed to be chicken supreme, but I don’t know…”

“It smells amazing,” I said. I opened the oven door and inhaled. “Looks good too. You made this?”

He gave an uncertain one-shoulder shrug. “Well, yeah. The lady at the grocery store told me what to do. I must’ve looked lost in the meat department. They had a sale on chicken, so I was looking… Anyway, she came up to me and asked if I needed help.” Then he laughed. “Boy, isn’t that a loaded question. I don’t know the first thing about cooking. So she told me a fail-safe recipe or two.”

“She did?”

He nodded with a laugh. “Tomorrow night I’m going to try to replicate her grandmother’s Creole pork and potatoes.”

I laughed as well and pulled him in for another hug. “I’m so glad you had a good day.”

He sighed against me. “I did. No mishaps, but I’m tired. I spent half a year in Vietnam walking miles every day with a pack that weighed almost more than me. Now I can’t even walk the block without it knocking me around.”

I pulled back so I could look him in the eyes. “And you spent months bedridden in the hospital. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I can see you improving every day.”

“You can?”

I nodded and pecked his lips again. “Definitely.”

This seemed to please him, but then his cheeks flushed deep pink. “Improved enough that you might want to have your way with me?”

My eyes went wide. “Now?”

“No, not right now. Kat will be home soon, but maybe later.” He swallowed hard, clearly embarrassed. “I mean, what we’ve been doing is great but… I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“You haven’t wanted to have me… that way. The way you did at Woodstock. And I wondered if it was because…”

Oh, okay. I hadn’t expected that. “Well,” I started, trying to word this right. “Don’t ever think I don’t want you, because I do.” I took his hand and put it to my crotch so he could feel what just being close to him did to me. “You turn me on like crazy. I didn’t want to push you for sex because I don’t want to rush you or hurt your leg. What if I grip you too hard or what if I lose myself in the moment and push your leg too high or too hard.”

He frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Well, I mean I had. Kind of. I just thought there would be ways I could lie down so it doesn’t hurt.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “You’ve been thinking about it, have you?”

He nodded and tried to look away, but I held his face. “Been thinking about it a lot, actually.”

I slowly walked him backward until his ass hit the kitchen cabinets near the sink, and when he could go no farther, I pressed my body against his. “That’s so hot,” I murmured and crushed my mouth to his. He groaned as our tongues touched, but before things could get too heated, we heard Kat’s key at the door.

She came inside, dumped her coat, and sighed. “I’m beat, and I need to take these shoes off. They’re killing me,” she said, then disappeared into her room. Thankfully she hadn’t seemed to notice through the kitchen door, us pressed up against the cupboard.

I chuckled and took a small step back. I readjusted myself and tried to will my body back under control. Richard licked his lips and smiled just as Kat walked back out. “Please tell me whatever smells so good is our dinner tonight?”

Richard grinned. “It sure is. Oh, that reminds me,” he said, looking at us both. “I wanted to ask what we wanted to have for Christmas dinner. I can grab it tomorrow or on Christmas Eve. I thought if we each suggested something, it’d be nice.”

“Oh,” Kat said. “Didn’t I tell you? I’ll be spending Christmas Day with my Great Aunt Rose. She lives in San Jose, and I promised my mom I would.”

“Oh,” Richard said, clearly disappointed. She’d told me, but I must’ve forgotten to pass the news on.

Kat noticed Richard’s deflated smile. “What if we make our dinner on Christmas Eve and even have a fancy breakfast on Christmas Day. I’ll have to leave mid-morning, and that will give you two the day alone together.” She waggled her eyebrows. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” I replied. “Christmas breakfast isn’t too conventional, but then again, neither are we.”

Richard smiled genuinely now. “Perfect.”

By the time we’d eaten and cleaned up after dinner, we’d only been on the sofa for about half an hour before Richard’s blinks were getting longer. But every time he’d move, he’d wince at his leg. “Come on,” I said, getting to my feet, then pulling him to his. “Pain pills and bedtime for you.”

“What time is it?” he asked. He sat on the edge of the bed and I handed him two of his pills and a glass of water.

“Almost eight.”

“Ugh, it’s so early.”

I kissed his forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. You’re so tired you can’t keep your eyes open.” Then I whispered, “There’ll be no sex tonight, but who knows. Maybe Santa will come early.”

He snorted and lay down. “He won’t be the only one.”

I barked out a laugh and turned the Christmas angel so she faced him more directly. “Be careful who hears you. This Christmas angel might tell Santa you’ve been a naughty boy.”

He was smiling, though his eyes were half-closed. “Too late. I’ve already told her what I want.”

“Are you going to tell me what you want Santa to bring?” I asked.

“I already have,” he mumbled.

Chuckling, I leaned down and kissed his temple. “You want sex for Christmas?” But his only reply was a quiet snore.

Work was busy, finalizing invoices and orders before most businesses shut down over Christmas and New Year’s. We’d had a small staff Christmas party in our break room during our lunch hour. There were Santa hats and tinsel and reindeer antlers and red noses, and I left the office with a small Christmas bonus, feeling happy, festive, and really eager to get home.

I had four days off and intended to spend every minute with Richard. He hadn’t mentioned his sex request again from the night before last. He’d been tired by the time we went to bed last night as well. I’d propped him up in bed and worshipped his body, bringing us both to climax with my hand. It seemed all he had energy for, but I was hoping he’d rested well. It was the night before Christmas Eve, and I knew Richard was trying to make our Christmas Eve dinner something special for all of us, and I wanted that too.

I smiled as I climbed the stairs to our apartment, and I heard his voice as I unlocked the door. He was talking on the phone, with wide eyes and a weird smile. “Oh, he’s home!” he said to whomever he was talking to. “Let me put him on for you. … Yes, ma’am. The pleasure was all mine. … Yes, I’ll be sure to mention it. Thank you, and a Merry Christmas to you too.” By this time, he was red with embarrassment, and he handed the phone receiver out to me. “It’s your mom.”

I laughed and took the phone. “Mom, have you been giving Richard the third degree?”

She laughed. “Oh, Gary, he sounds like the sweetest boy. And his manners!”

I slid my free hand around Richard’s neck and gently pulled him into my chest so he could bury his face in my sweater and die of embarrassment. “He is, Mom. The sweetest boy.”

“When do we get to meet him? It’s about time we met this young man.”

“Soon. You get to meet him real soon, I promise.”

Richard pulled away and gawped at me, making me laugh. “I’m glad you called tonight,” I said to her. “I need your recipe for your apple pie. We’re gonna make our first Christmas dinner together something special, and there isn’t anything as special as your apple pie.”

Richard gave me a smile, with cheeks flushed pink and his eyes warm with love. “Really?” he whispered, and I nodded.

“Oh honey, that’s so sweet!” Mom replied. “You’ll need a pen. Have you got a pen?”

After I hung the receiver in the cradle, Richard grabbed my beard in his hands and brought me in for a kiss. “We’re gonna make an apple pie?”

I grinned at him. “Yep. I got a little Christmas bonus today. It’s not enough to buy anything fancy, but you’re trying to plan a special dinner and I thought a hot apple pie and ice cream, and maybe some cider, would make it perfect.”

“It sounds perfect!” he replied. “And your mom! Oh my gosh, Gary, she was talking to me like me being your boyfriend was the most natural thing in the world! She was asking me all about my leg and how I was finding San Francisco and how you were treating me.” He shook his head. “I’m still stunned.”

His smile also told me he was very happy. “Of course she did! She wants to meet you.”

“That’s what she said. She told me I had to tell you that she wants to meet me.”

“And my dad. Both of them,” I added.

Richard froze, then blanched. “Your… dad? He knows? I mean you said he does, but he wants to meet me?”

I kissed him and gave him a long, strong hug. “Of course he does.”

“And he’s okay with it? He knows we’re…”

I nodded into his neck. “Yes, baby. He knows.” I kissed the skin below his ear. “He wasn’t too fond of the idea in the beginning, of me liking boys, but he realized I’m still the same as I was before I’d told him. Plus my mom told me later that when they were in college, they had a certain ménage à trois with a football quarterback, and he’d enjoyed every minute.”

Richard stared at me. Then he blinked, and his mouth opened but it seemed words failed him. Then he shook his head as if to kickstart his brain. “She told you that? About what they’ve done in the bedroom?”

“Apparently this wasn’t in a bedroom. It was in a poolroom,” I added with a laugh. “And yes, she told me. And she reminded my dad of the fact and he didn’t have a problem with me liking boys after that.”

Richard stared again, then roared with laughter. “I cannot believe you’ve discussed anything like that with your parents!”

“I take it you didn’t?”

“Never! My parents would’ve called a priest for an exorcism if I mentioned sex. I’m sure my mother would have me believe I was conceived through the Holy Spirit. Like Jesus. Because sex was forbidden.”

I let my head fall back and groaned. “God, your parents must be miserable.”

“Well, they weren’t having threesomes in college, that’s for sure,” he said with a grin. “They never went to college. They met at church.”

I slung my arms around his shoulders and pressed my lips to his. “Anyway, yes, my folks want to meet you. Is that okay with you?”

“I’ve never met anyone’s parents before,” he whispered. “Let alone the parents of a man. Who know we’re together, and we share a bed.” He cringed. “Would they really be okay with it?”

I nodded.

He seemed suddenly nervous. He let out a breath and licked his lips. “It’s a big step and I’ve always thought that meeting parents was something people did when they were serious, and you know, getting married.”

“Well, we can’t get married. Not yet. But if we could, I’d do it in a heartbeat. That’s how serious I am about you. About us.”

“Not yet?”

“One day I bet we will,” I answered. “The world is changing. It might not be anytime soon, but one day we’ll be treated the same as other couples.”

“You really believe that?”

“I have to. I have to believe that.”

He broke out a killer-watt smile. “Then I would love to meet your parents. I’ll be scared and nervous as hell, but I’ll do it.”

“Good! It probably won’t be until Easter or even my birthday next year. We have plenty of time.”

“Your birthday’s July, right?”

I nodded. “Yep. July twenty-fourth,” I reminded him. Then I held up the recipe I’d written out. “We need to brave the stores in the morning so we can get the ingredients for this. I thought we could make it together. Make it our thing to do every year, like a tradition.”

His eyes welled with tears and he nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

“Oh, baby, don’t cry,” I said, pulling him against me again. I knew talking about family and Christmas had to hurt when his family had basically washed their hands of him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Happy tears,” he sniffed.

I pulled back and put my hand to his face so I could see his eyes. “You sure?”

He nodded, teary, but smiling. “The happiest. I love you, Gary Fairchild.”

“I love you too, Richard Ronsman.” I kissed him again, but then the oven timer buzzed and told us that some lady from the grocery store’s grandmother’s ground beef casserole recipe was done.

Shopping on Christmas Eve was crazy. We got there just after opening and there were already people fighting over turkeys, and I thought they might trigger a negative reaction in Richard, but he was more amused than scared.

“I’ve never seen two women want to duke it out over frozen birds before,” he said, watching them as we walked past. The store manager was trying to wrangle them as I ushered Richard into the first aisle. We soon filled our basket with our list of ingredients, and we found some discounted decorations and Santa hats, and I grabbed two bottles of apple cider, and we made the trek home.

“Oh,” I said as we passed a drugstore. “I need to grab something real quick.” I offloaded my bag into Richard’s arm, which he almost dropped as he struggled with his cane and his own grocery bag. I grinned over my shoulder at him as I went inside. I bought a small bottle of perfume for Kat, along with some lubricant, which was packaged into a brown paper bag by the young clerk, and I went back out to Richard.

“I almost dropped the wine,” he said. “Warn a cripple next time, will you, before you throw things at him.”

I chuckled and took the bag from him. “You’re not a cripple. And I’ve told you before”—I leaned in real close—“not to call the man I love that word.”

He tried to be mad but he fought a smile. “I didn’t know you needed medication,” he said as we began to walk home.

“Medication?”

“Yeah, from the drugstore.”

I laughed. “I didn’t buy medication. I bought some lubricant.”

Richard almost stumbled, and he shot me a glare. “Jesus.”

“You brought it up,” I said with a laugh.

“Warn a man next time before you say stuff like that.”

I grinned the whole way home.

And I grinned the whole time we made homemade apple pie, and we laughed as we prepared everything for dinner and put the turkey in the oven to cook. We rested after lunch; Richard needed to put his foot up so the three of us watched Christmas movies all afternoon. The weather had turned cold, wind howled against the window, but it really set the scene for Christmas Eve. We had pillows and blankets, Kat made eggnog, and we ate bowls of popcorn. Richard lay with his head on my chest with my arms around him, and I really could not have picked a better way to spend Christmas Eve.

“I know it’s Christmas and not Thanksgiving,” Richard said. “But I’m really thankful I’m in San Francisco and not Connecticut. If we still lived back east we’d be under four feet of snow.”

That made me laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Kat agreed. “I don’t miss shoveling sidewalks and driveways, that’s for sure.”

“My dad would have me shoveling snow for hours. My feet and hands would be frozen solid,” Richard said.

“That’s terrible,” Kat said. “And mean.”

Richard snorted. “Then I’d have to go do the pastor’s driveway too.”

“You didn’t have a plow for that?” I asked.

“Yeah. Dad did. But making me do it the way he had to do it when he was a boy would teach me to appreciate it later.”

Kat gasped. “Now that’s just being horrible.”

“I didn’t mind. The pastor was a jerk but his neighbor was cute. He’d watch me shovel for hours.”

I laughed and kissed the side of his head. “If only your dad knew.”

Richard smiled but we fell silent after that. “I should probably call them,” he said. “You know, for Christmas and all.”

“Anything you want,” I murmured. “If you want to call them or if you don’t, it’s completely up to you.”

He sighed. “I just need to decide which day I want to ruin. I’ve had such a perfect day today, but I doubt I’ll want to ruin Christmas Day either.”

Kat gave him a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you call them after you’ve had a glass of cider or two with dinner. Might make it a little easier.”

“Good idea,” he replied, his good mood deflated. I tightened my hold on him and kissed the top of his head.

Kat stood up and clapped her hands together, trying to be cheery. “How about we have this amazing dinner you two spent all day cooking. We’ll have more eggnog and drink some apple cider. We can put the Christmas tree lights on, and if we get drunk enough, we can sing carols.”

Richard laughed and got to his feet. He shuffled around on his good leg and held his hand out. “Come on,” he said with a smile that gave me butterflies. “It’s Christmastime.”

So with another Christmas movie on the television, we turned the Christmas tree lights on, sat down at our Christmas-decorated table to one of the best Christmas dinners and apple pies I’d ever had.

We ate, we drank, we laughed. And yes, when the second bottle of cider was almost empty, we sang Christmas carols—very badly, I might add. But we laughed and laughed, and there was so much love in that room I was sure Neil Armstrong could have seen it from space.

I danced with Kat while Richard sat and watched—and laughed until he cried—and when I pulled him to his feet to dance with him, he objected at first. But then Kat changed the music to a slower song, and as Bing Crosby crooned out from the record player, I slow danced with Richard in our living room.

I didn’t know what Kat was doing when she pulled a dining chair over to us, but she stood up tall and held out a piece of the garland over our heads. I glanced up at it and laughed. “I think that’s supposed to be mistletoe,” I whispered in Richard’s ear. “Ever been kissed under mistletoe?”

He shook his head and we stopped dancing. I lifted his chin and kissed him with all the love I had. I must’ve kissed him so good he forgot where he was because he groaned and started to pull my shirt up.

“Okay guys, I don’t need the full show,” Kat said with a laugh, jumping down off the chair.

Richard pulled away, stunned and a little horrified at his behavior. “I’m sorry, I…”

Kat laughed. “Don’t ever be sorry. I’ll take love over hate any day.”

I pulled him into me once more and we swayed a little. “I should call my folks.”

I kissed him. “We’ll start cleaning up the kitchen, give you some privacy.”

He nodded and I spun Kat into the kitchen, making her laugh. We washed and dried and tidied up the kitchen while he spoke quietly on the phone to his parents. We tried not to listen, but it was a bit hard not to hear.

“I’m still in San Francisco,” he said. “No, I’m staying here.” There was a long pause. “Hard on you? What about hard on me? I almost died in Vietnam and then again in the hospital. I can’t work the farm because I can hardly walk. Not that you’d know. You never came to visit. You called once. That’s not what love is. That’s not unconditional. It’s never been unconditional.” Another long pause. “I can’t do that. … I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Kat reached out and squeezed my hand. “Go to him,” she whispered. “I’ll finish up in here.”

I gave her a thankful nod, put the dish towel on the counter, and went into the living room. He was sitting on the arm of the sofa, the spiral phone cord stretched straight. He had his head down and I couldn’t see his face.

“Well, I just thought you might like to know that I’m okay,” Richard said quietly into the phone. There was another pause and I put my hand in his hair. He looked up at me and gave me a sad smile. I traced my thumb along his cheek.

“I love you,” I mouthed to him.

He smiled, though it was marked by sadness. “I, uh, look, I have to go. Tell Dad I said Merry Christmas. If it means anything.” He shook his head. “You know what, Mom. I need to tell you something. I’m happy. For the first time in my life, I’m truly happy. I don’t expect you to understand, but as a parent—if all any parent wants is for their child to be happy—then know that I am.”

He smiled, properly this time, and held the phone receiver out. “She hung up.”

“Oh baby.” I put my hand to his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” he said with a sigh. “I needed to say that. I’ve needed to say that for a long time. I mean, it’s not the happy ending I wanted. Well, not with them anyway. But I can’t change their minds, and I won’t live a lie anymore.”

“I’m proud of you,” I whispered.

He stood slowly and put his head to my chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the son they wanted, but I can’t be someone I’m not.”

I slid my arms around him and held him tight. “You don’t have to be anyone but you.”

He lifted his head and met my gaze. “You’ve never wanted me to be anything I’m not.”

“Because you’re perfect just the way you are.” I kissed him softly. “Can I get you anything? More cider or more eggnog?”

“Eggnog sounds good.”

When I came back out of the kitchen with two glasses of eggnog, Richard was walking out of the hall, cane in one hand, the golden Christmas angel in the other. “We forgot about this,” he said.

Kat followed me out. “Forgot about what?”

“Our Christmas angel,” he answered. “We need to put it on the tree and make a wish.”

“Who’s going first?” I asked.

Richard hung his cane over a dining chair so he could take his eggnog and held out the angel to Kat. Then he put his arm around my waist. “Ladies first.”

She took the ornament with a smile. “What do I do?”

“Hold it and make a wish,” he said. “Then when we’ve all had a turn, we put her on top of the tree. Well, at least that’s what my grandmother used to do.”

Kat gave him a warm smile; then she closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened her eyes, she handed the ornament to me. “Your turn.”

I looked at the angel, at her beautiful face, her wings… I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and made my wish.

Then I handed it to Richard. He smiled at it, closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then looked at me and Kat. “Now we put her on the top of the tree.” Once he had the angel situated, he slid his arm around my waist again and sipped his eggnog.

“Merry Christmas.”

I held up my glass. “Merry Christmas.”

Kat looked around and found the almost empty cider bottle on the table. She grabbed it and raised it, clinking our glasses. “Merry Christmas.”

We all drank to that.

“What did you wish for, Kat?” I asked.

“Peace,” she said simply. We drank to that too.

Then Richard leaned in real close and pressed his forehead to my jaw. His eyes were closed, his body pressed against mine. “So, what did you wish for?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that, or it won’t come true.” I ran my hand down his back and over his ass. “If it hasn’t already.”

He leaned into me and hummed.

Kat cleared her throat. “On that note, I will leave you two gentlemen to finish what you started. Goodnight! And don’t be too naughty,” she said with a wink. “Santa’s watching!”

“Goodnight, Kat,” I said.

“Goodnight,” Richard said, but he didn’t move from where he’d planted himself against me. She blew us a kiss and disappeared into her room.

I took Richard’s eggnog and put our glasses on the table, then slid my hands down his sides and over his ass again. He loved it.

“What did you wish for?” I whispered.

“I didn’t wish for anything.” He looked up at me, his eyes full of desire. “I have everything I need. So I thanked the angel instead.”

“You have everything you’ll ever need?”

“Well, I have you. And you have lube.” His cheeks flushed pink, but he held my gaze. “I need you to have me. The way you did at Woodstock.”

I kissed him, slow and deep, until he moaned. I was breathless when we broke apart. “Then we should take it to our room. Unless you want to get on Santa’s naughty list.”

He laughed. “Oh boy, do I ever.”

I handed him his cane and flipped off the lights, leaving the living room aglow in Christmas tree lights. I took my time undressing him between gentle touches and deep kisses.

It had been so long since we’d done this, and that was the last time I’d done it, so I tried to keep myself in check. When I unbuttoned his shirt and kissed down his neck to his shoulder, he made this desperate whining sound that damn near brought me undone.

“I’m trying to go slow,” I said breathily. “Or I won’t even make it inside you.”

He groaned, and his fingers dug into my sides. “Don’t hold back,” he whispered. “Don’t go slow.”

I licked a trail up to behind his ear. “Get on the bed.”

He quickly complied, sitting first and then scooting back. “How do you want me?”

I shed my clothing as quickly as I could, so I was completely naked in front of him. “Just like that.”

I grabbed the lube and threw it on the bedside, and I crawled up his legs, planting kisses as I went. His thigh was still bandaged, but I kissed up his inner thigh anyway. I nudged his cock with my nose, then licked his length, teasing him, before I made my way up his body to his mouth.

I kissed him, deep and slow, until he rolled his hips searching for touch. “Please, Gary. I need this.”

I moved off him. “Roll onto your side,” I urged him. He did as I asked, rolling onto his side so there was no pressure on his bandaged leg. “Is that okay?”

He arched his back, offering me his ass. “Yeah.”

I fisted my cock first, giving the base a squeeze to stem the urgency. Then poured lube on my fingers and rubbed it over his hole, making him whimper. “You keep making noises like that, and you’ll make me come,” I whispered in his ear, then slipped a finger inside him.

He gasped and arched some more. He was so desperate, so deprived of what he really needed. “You want my cock instead?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “Please Gary. I need it.”

I slicked my cock with lube and added more to his hole, then pressed against him. “Like that?”

“Stop teasing me,” he snapped, his patience gone.

So I pushed inside, just the head, breaching his tight ass so his breath caught and stuttered. I put a hand on his hip, careful of his injuries, and slowly pushed inside him. “You okay?”

He reached out and fisted the blankets, moaning long and low. “God yes.” He took in some rapid breaths, and I wondered if it was too much for him. But then he breathed out slowly and he relaxed, and I slid farther in. “Feels so good,” he mumbled.

I pulled out a little and pushed back in, deeper, and he moaned again. My chest was pressed to his back, and I kissed his shoulder, his neck. Then he started to jack himself. “Fuck, Richard, you’re so hot. You make me wanna come, but I need you to come first.”

He reacted to my words, writhing and meeting my thrusts. “Oh, Gary,” he breathed my name. “More.”

So I thrust a little harder, deeper, and sucked down on his neck, making him cry out. He went rigid and a strangled cry ripped from deep his chest as he came. He jerked on my cock, milking my orgasm out of me. I pushed in hard, one more time, and spilled inside him.

I tightened my arms around him, still trying to get closer. I kissed all the skin I could reach, and when our breathing had returned to normal, neither one of us moved. The alarm clock said 12:08. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He hummed sleepily. “Merry Christmas.”

I peeled myself away, and when I looked back at him, I was struck at how beautiful he was. Naked, sleepy, smiling. I sat beside him. “Want me to get your pills?”

He shook his head. “No. I want you back in bed with your arms around me. ’S all I need.”

I snuggled back in and pulled the blankets up, and he worked his way against me, as close as he could get. I kissed his forehead with smiling lips. “I love you,” I said, but he was already sound asleep. And somewhere outside, or in an apartment close to ours, someone was playing The Temptations’ “Silent Night” and I closed my eyes and fell asleep to dreams of a golden Christmas angel who granted me my wish.

I want Richard to be happy, and I want to love him forever…

And in my dream, her wings fluttered in dazzling light and she smiled at me. And with a nod, it was done.