Williamson shut a few days before Christmas.

Suzy offered Caleb and Wesley refuge, which Caleb snapped up. Wesley opted to forgive Lloyd for writing him up, and he crashed on his rollaway bed.

It made sense, since they spent so much time together.

They repainted the interior of the tree house, Wesley giving the pinecone kids their individual flair. They even trudged through low fog to a fitness center where Wesley lounged by the indoor pool while Lloyd did muscly things in the metal jungle a floor above.

It was all very best-friendy.

Then Christmas Eve arrived.

Wesley fidgeted with his wristband as he stared at Lloyd in the driver’s seat of his car, dressed in a fine shirt and slim-fit dress pants. And belt. Lloyd was always wearing a fuck-me belt.

“I am unreasonably excited to show you off to my mom. Look”—Wesley held out his hand over the console—“I’m shaking. I don’t ever shake. Unless it’s shake, rattle, and roll, of course.”

“Glad your humor is still intact,” Lloyd said, turning onto his street.

“I hope she loves you.” Wesley snorted at himself. “Of course she will. Who couldn’t?”

Lloyd took hold of his trembling hand, linking their fingers together.

“Good plan,” Wesley said as Lloyd reached his home. “We should go in like this. Make our relationship look real.”

“It is real.”

“That’s the spirit.”

* * *

Wesley gripped Lloyd’s hand, sweating like no-one’s business. The December wind whipping around them did nothing to cool him down, and Christmas lights beamed down on them like an interrogation.

“Mom! We’re here,” he blurted as soon as the door opened.

“I see that,” she said, eyes jumping between the two of them and their joined hands. She focused on Lloyd. “You’re my son’s fiancé?”

Lloyd’s hand twitched as though his first response would have been to shake her hand. He pumped their palms together instead. “Pleased to meet you.”

Mom beckoned them inside, and Wesley reluctantly let Lloyd go so they could take off their jackets.

“So,” she said, sizing up Lloyd from shoe to shirt. “You’re gay.”

“I am.”

“You don’t look very gay.”

“Mom,” Wesley warned.

Lloyd assumed the expression he reserved for rule-breaking residents. “I don’t look very patient either, but let me assure you I am.” His gaze flickered to Wesley.

Wesley owed Lloyd big time. He flashed him an appreciative, somewhat sheepish smile.

“We should get to the dining table,” Mom said and moved into the next room. “Ham and eggplant salad doesn’t eat itself.”

Wesley scrunched his nose. “I wish it would.”

“You can sit on that side of the table.” Mom pointed Lloyd to the end of the table, far from Wesley’s usual spot.

Wesley bristled. “He’s sitting next to me, where I can grope him under the table.”

“Wesley!” His mom gasped, affronted, while Lloyd gently chuckled.

“Where’s Hazelnut?”

“Someone call for deliverance from an uncomfortable situation?” Caleb asked, entering the room in a reindeer hat. “Where do you want me?”

“Between them,” his mom murmured.

“Across from us,” Wesley said.

Mom picked up a wine bottle and poured two glasses. “Lloyd,” she said tightly, “Would you like some red wine?”

“No, thank you.”

“Both for me then.”

Wesley slipped onto a chair, gesturing Lloyd to do the same. “I’ll take one, Mom.”

“And have you take off with your guy into the bathroom again? The sparkling water is chilled.”

Caleb piped up cheerily, “I wouldn’t worry about shenanigans happening. I’m pretty sure Lloyd is waiting.”

“Waiting,” his mom nodded, impressed. “That’s something.”

Wesley choked on the horror. Imagine having to wait.

“Grace!” Caleb said over a mouthful of ham and eggplant. “Tell us. How did you propose?”

Wesley sent him a scathing glare. Caleb was having far too much fun with this.

Lloyd spoke calmly, “Actually, your brother proposed to me.” His mischievous gaze landed on Wesley. “Tell them, honey.”

Caleb turned his snicker into a cough.

Their mom drained the last dredge of wine from her first glass.

Wesley spun a tale, imagining how he might have done it. “It was the best coffee I ever made. Rich with chocolaty tones—Lloyd’s favorite roast. His every sip fried my nerves. I wondered if he would ever get to the message stamped into the bottom of his cup: ‘Marry Me?’” Lloyd opened himself toward Wesley, amusement playing at his lips and dancing in his eyes. Wesley shifted his chair and sank against his warm side, one hand palming his thigh. He playfully nipped Lloyd’s neck. “Lloyd, my heart. You tell the rest.”

Lloyd’s eyes remained firmly on his for a few beats. “I said yes.”

Wesley gently elbowed his side.

A puff of air escaped him. “I always say yes to Wesley.” He looked fleetingly back at him. “No matter what insane thing he asks me to do. I can’t help it. I’m in love with him.”

Tingles rushed through Wesley, and then he tensed, waiting for his brother to snort.

Caleb kept it together, managing a half-genuine-looking smile. “I wish you guys the best. And Lloyd, the best of luck.”

Wesley gave him the evil eye before glancing at his mom, who was staring at Lloyd over her second glass of wine. “You look familiar. I’ve been trying to put my finger on it.”

Lloyd kept his voice even. He must have felt Wesley seize up with frustration, because he slid his hand up and down the inside of his knee. “Perhaps you saw me the week Wesley moved into the dorm?”

Mom drank more wine. “No, I was never invited to his dorm.”

“Can I see you for a minute?” Wesley led his mom into the kitchen. “I thought you wanted to understand why being gay—not gaying, by the way—is so important to me? I thought you wanted to meet Lloyd?”

She closed her eyes, sighing. “I do. I did. It’s harder than I thought.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Wesley said sadly. “We’ll leave. We can try again when you’re ready.”

He waited for her to stop him, but she didn’t.

* * *

“You know my friend Alcohol I told you about?” Wesley asked, keeping his tone light on their way back to Lloyd’s. “We need to pay him a visit.”

Lloyd appeared sympathetic. “One drink.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“They better be giant glasses.”

They were a standard tumbler.

Lloyd took out a bottle of vodka from the liquor cabinet and mixed it with ginger ale.

Cathy had left them to it, hiking off early to bed. Lloyd and Wesley had the cozy living room to themselves. A decorated tree sat modestly in the corner, perfuming the room with pine. A small fireplace flickered with warm flames, and thick drapes shut out the cold. Despite that, Lloyd had made him put on an extra pair of socks.

The first drink curbed the edge of his lingering disappointment at his mother’s reaction to his fake fiancé. The second curbed it even more.

Wesley had figured out how to work the old dusty stereo, and classics from the fifties, sixties, and seventies pulsed around the room. He gave in to dancing, while Lloyd sat on the couch, nursing his drink.

“Dancing out the pain looks like this,” Wesley cried as he jumped up and down, spinning and head bopping.

He belted out the lyrics to The Supremes’ You Can’t Hurry Love to Lloyd’s wry grin. Danced to two more songs, then used the last of his energy shaking his limbs to the Kinks’ You Really Got Me.

He collapsed onto the couch, side jammed against Lloyd’s. He rested his head on Lloyd’s shoulder as he played with his wristband. “See. Dinner’s forgotten.”

Lloyd wrapped an arm around Wesley’s shoulders. They stayed close like that for an entire song, Lloyd’s arm a comforting solid weight. A bit too comfortable. Wesley might fall asleep this way. He whisked out of Lloyd’s arms to the bookshelf where he’d seen a deck of cards.

“Let’s play!” He dropped them onto the coffee table.

“Play what?”

“Strip poker.”

Lloyd withdrew the deck and shuffled. “You can take the socks off if you’re too warm.”

Wesley poked his tongue out and stripped out of the second pair. “I’ll have you know, you missed an opportunity.” He ran a seductive hand down his body. “I’m impressively ordinary.”

“Let’s play for something else.” Lloyd shuffled.

“Another drink!”

“Or . . .”

“I doubt your idea can top mine.”

“We play for my birthdate,” Lloyd said. “You win, I tell you.”

Every fiber of Wesley trained in on Lloyd. Lloyd’s idea topped and surpassed his. “Are you serious?”

“When am I not?”

Good point. “Okay, I’ll put in a date too. Something interesting . . . the day I lost my virginity.”

“Why would I want to know that? No, how about you wage a future date. If I win, I get to make you run around as I see fit.”

“Your personal minion? Sounds like fun.”

Lloyd laughed and dealt. Texas Hold’em. He wrote on a small block of paper and tossed it in the middle. “We’ll start with the year.”

“I already know that.”

“Just go along with me.”

Wesley had shitty cards, but he wrote down a year too. Lloyd revealed his cards. Two pairs.

“Wait a sec.” Wesley rifled through the deck, found two cards he needed, then resumed the game. “Okay, beat that.” He turned them to show a flush of hearts.

Lloyd sighed. “Fine. You win.”

Wesley cheered, grabbing the folded paper. “Let’s see this birthdate.”

Lloyd sighed but didn’t seem mad.

“Eighth of January,” Wesley read aloud. Yeah, right. “You’re fucking with me. When is it?”

Lloyd frowned. He found his wallet and showed Wesley his driver’s license. “Ouch, that photo does not do you—oh my God. It’s true. The eighth.”

“Is there some Capricorn magic you want to tell me?”

Wesley looked at him incredulously. “Do you not know what the eighth is?”

“I take it I should?”

Wesley started showering cards on him. “It’s Elvis’s birthdate. You have Elvis’s birthdate.” He flung himself back, sprawling like a starfish over the carpet. “I can’t even.”

“It’s a date. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Wesley stared at the swinging lightshade and laughed.

To some this might be a funny coincidence, but Wesley thought there was something magical about his best friend sharing a birthdate with his idol.

The Doors’ Light My Fire came on. Wesley rolled to his feet and danced. It felt great to dance, but it would be better with more space and better speakers. “Hey, what are your New Year’s Eve plans?” Wesley asked.

Lloyd finished his drink and collected cards off the floor. “I planned to stay home and prepare for a busy January schedule.”

“You’re kidding.”

Lloyd wasn’t laughing.

Wesley frowned. “But Glitter. Dancing. Kissing.”

“Was that an invitation?” The flash of hesitation in Lloyd’s gaze made Wesley’s gut clench. It reminded him of Halloween. Of Lloyd not being invited.

“Would you come? Despite your streamer-phobia? I will hold your hand the entire time.”

Lloyd set the cards back in the bookshelf. Wesley moved to his side with begging puppy eyes.

“I’m going to be picking glitter off my clothes for weeks afterward, aren’t I?”

“Not just your clothes,” Wesley said. “It’ll get in all your folds and cracks, if you get what I mean.”

“You’re a master wordsmith.”

“Promise you’ll come with me?”

Lloyd pretended that relenting was a difficult decision, but Wesley caught a sneaky sparkle of delight in his eye. “Fine. I’ll tag along.”

“Great. We can suck on some mind-expanding lollipops and find the nearest closet.”

“No sucking on lollipops or mind-expanding anything.”

Wesley laughed so hard he knocked a CD case off the shelf and caught it against Lloyd’s chest. “No lollipops. No naughty business in the bathrooms. Got it.”

A soft shake of Lloyd’s head. He popped the CD case back onto the shelf and turned off the music. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing fun, by the sounds of it.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Wesley pivoted and headed out of the living room. “Sounding better.”

A chuckle drifted behind him. Wesley slowed his step until Lloyd was right behind him. When he slowed even more, Lloyd grabbed his hips and steered Wesley upstairs.

Wesley stripped to boxers and climbed into bed.

Lloyd took a minute longer. When he stepped past Wesley, Wesley cuffed Lloyd’s ankle, stilling him. “Thank you for being there tonight.” He absently rubbed over the hairs at Lloyd’s shin. “Not just at home with my mom, but now. Here.”

Their eyes connected. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted.”

Wesley made light of it. “You told me your birthdate, so something went right.”

“Get some sleep, Wesley.”

Lights popped off and sheets churred as Lloyd slid in bed. Wesley smiled sleepily.

* * *

Wesley woke up with a ridiculous spring in his step. Light and energetic, like a man reborn.

He returned from the bathroom—and tripped over the bottom mattress. He flailed and had two choices: land on the empty mattress or pivot and land on Lloyd.

He fell with enthusiasm against a sleepy Lloyd. A sleepy, hard Lloyd.

Lloyd’s eyes opened, gaze dark. He grabbed Wesley and rolled them until he was pinned to the mattress, a hard, hot body pressing into him.

“Merry Christmas!” Wesley said.

Lloyd jerked away, muttering. Jaw clenched, he stormed into the bathroom.

Wesley laughed and followed him to the locked door. “You’re grumpy.”

All he got was a grunt in response.

“Is this the no-coffee-in-your-system situation?”

“No, it’s the leave-unless-you-want-to-overhear-me-jack-off situation.”

Wesley’s breath caught and blood shot to his groin. He was hesitating. He was hard and hesitating.

“You know,” he said silkily, “sometimes friends help out friends.”

“I’m not interested in being your fuck-buddy.”

“You sure?” Wesley palmed his hard cock thinking about it. “Because my mouth around your cock would feel amazing. That’s the advantage of having hair, Lloyd, you’d have something to grip as you sink down my throat.” Wesley stuffed his hand down his boxers, thumb gliding over a bead of pre-come. “A quick blowjob, no strings attached? Best friends helping best friends. I’d work you until you came, yelling—”

“WESLEY!”

“Exactly like that.”

A muffled curse broke through the door. “Go make coffee. Gallons of it.”

“Your mom is down there.”

“And?”

“I’m really fucking hard right now. Toss me some lube and I’ll sort myself out in your bedroom.”

“You’re killing me.” A shuffle. A cupboard squealing on hinges.

The bathroom door cracked opened and lube came hurtling out, followed by the snap of the lock.

Wesley laughed. “If you change your mind about the fuck-buddy thing, let me know.”

Lloyd groaned. “Not going to happen.”

Wesley threw himself on the bottom bed and kicked off his boxers. He was hard and straining, and he couldn’t squeeze lube out fast enough.

Through the thin walls came soft, slick sounds. Familiar sounds that made Wesley imagine Lloyd fucking his hand. Did he pump through his tight fingers fantasizing about pretty-faced guys?

Wesley’s lube-covered hand throttled his cock. The thrill blasted through his body, spiraling thoughts of Lloyd.

Having sex.

With Wesley.

Lloyd’s eyes would roll back as he pushed inside him, bottom lip parting, then he’d stare right into Wesley’s eyes as he pulled back out and slammed back in.

A muffled grunt came through the wall, and Wesley jerked himself faster, gasping. Had Lloyd heard him? Would knowing what Wesley was doing turn him on too?

Wesley threw a leg up onto Lloyd’s bed, heel dragging over twisted sheets. He spread his other knee and dipped the tip of his middle finger in his ass as he pumped his dick.

Lloyd would be a demanding lover. In control. He’d move slowly and study every reaction. When the moans intensified, he’d palm Wesley’s mouth and fuck faster.

Wesley wished he could get his finger deeper. For a moment, he cast his eyes about Lloyd’s room wondering where he might find a dildo. Or a fucking carrot for all he cared right now. Just something thick and hard thrusting in him.

Another moan escaped from the bathroom.

Wesley gave up on his ass and gripped the inside of his knee, pretending the touch was Lloyd’s. Pretending Lloyd’s gaze burned into him with every thrust.

Lloyd might tell him to touch his nipples and Wesley might smirk at him and say Make me. Lloyd would pound him harder for it. Pin his hands above Wesley’s head so he’d have to come without touching himself—

Wesley shot ribbons of come over his stomach as his orgasm wrung through him. It hit so hard, he was shaking.

He caught his breath, leg dropping from Lloyd’s bed.

“Well, fuck.” Aftershocks rumbled deep within him.

Lloyd knocked on the door and Wesley carelessly beckoned him in.

Lloyd froze at the foot of Wesley’s bed, where Wesley lazily dragged his finger through the come pooling in his bellybutton. A towel flapped onto his groin. “Bathroom is free.”

Wesley grinned and lazily stood, slinging the towel around his waist. “I don’t want it to be weird, so I’m just going to tell you that I thought of you. I couldn’t help myself.”

Lloyd bore that hazel gaze into him, just like he’d imagined in his fantasy. He spoke in a measured tone. “You don’t want it to be weird, and that’s why you’re telling me?”

Wesley winked. “Considering the circumstances, our closeness”—to put the thin walls in a kinder light—“I thought we should address the elephant in the room.”

Lloyd let out a slow breath and gestured between them. “Considering the circumstances.”

“Come on, Lloyd. It was clear we were going to think about each other.”

“Okay, good,” Lloyd nodded, “we are admitting this.”

“Yes!” Wesley said, exasperated. So they thought of each other while jacking off. Big deal. Best friends did that sometimes. More than that sometimes. Lloyd didn’t have to worry he’d suddenly want to be his boyfriend.

He heard loud and clear that Lloyd didn’t want anything sexual between them. Maybe he wasn’t Lloyd’s type. Which was fine, just fine, because Lloyd was still a Capricorn.

Totally not his type either.

“You’re right,” Lloyd said, lips twisting upward. “I thought of you too.”

Wesley grinned at him. “Perfect. Get it out in the open. Let’s move on with Christmas Day.”

“I didn’t think you would admit it,” Lloyd mussed, brow pinching.

“Well, I did.”

“I thought we would dance around this until we moved out of Williamson.”

“That would have been awkward and, to be honest, not what I want of us.”

“Of us?”

“Despite you being a stickler for rules and me a flirtster, I think we have a special connection. I want it to last. That means no awkward dances.”

Lloyd’s smile reached deep into his eyes, making Wesley wonder if Lloyd was thinking about their last two actual dances.

A laugh shivered over Lloyd’s bottom lip, and his tongue darted out over it.

Wesley lifted his gaze. “Let’s be frank with each other.”

“Okay.”

“My only caveat? Don’t mention the no-sex thing again. I get it.”

Lloyd sighed, sounding relieved. “I’m sorry. I wish things were different.”

Wesley wasn’t his type. Got it. “It is what it is.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

Wesley shook off a thread of disappointment. Best friends was better anyway. That would last way beyond their college years. That was something a Cap and a Gem could have forever. “We can still be close.”

“You have no idea how much I want that.”

Wesley rubbed Lloyd’s chest playfully, his nightshirt soft under his palm. “I can’t promise not to flirt, though.”

“It wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t.” Lloyd clasped Wesley’s hand to his chest. “Wesley?”

“Lloyd?”

“What do you think about going out for dinner and a movie?”

“It’s Christmas Day, silly.”

“I meant next week, after I get back from my trip with mom.”

Wesley ran through the list of work he had to do for his classes. “Okay, but I have to force myself to catch up on law readings first. I’ll need until Friday.”

“Friday, then. It’s a date.”

* * *

Other than his craving for meat, Christmas Day was perfect.

Cathy kept taking photos of them, grinning like she’d indulged in too much eggnog. “It’s a special occasion. This’ll be the last one, promise. Get closer and say seitan.”

Wesley slung an arm around Lloyd’s shoulders and Lloyd wrapped an arm around his waist, fingers drumming his side warmly. Wesley grinned, and when asked to pose for a silly shot, he wrapped himself around Lloyd and pretended to go vampire, lightly biting the crook of his neck.

Lloyd bucked, sending Wesley and Cathy into a gut-clenching belly laugh.

“I’d love a copy of one of these,” Wesley said, chuckling.

Cathy promised him an album.

After breakfast, Wesley handed out gifts. Chocolates for Cathy. “I decided to play it safe this Christmas until we get to know each other better.”

“They’re great. You’re great. This day is great.”

When he and Lloyd were alone in the living room, Wesley sat next to Lloyd on the couch and handed him his gift.

Lloyd unwrapped the coffee mug, and Wesley blurted, “Don’t worry, it’s not a proposal.”

His laugh sounded tinny, and Lloyd stopped it with a warm palm cupping his knee. “It’s perfect.”

They both eyed the engraving on the brushed steel: Lloyd Reynolds: shaven-headed, statistic-munching giraffe. “It’s meant endearingly,” Wesley said.

“I’d never have guessed.”

Wesley playfully shoved him, and Lloyd folded so easily that Wesley toppled onto him. Lloyd’s rumbling laugh reached deep inside, vibrations stirring his cock. If only they could have a repeat of earlier.

Lloyd gripped Wesley and rolled them until Lloyd was the heady weight against him. Before he could appreciate all that muscle, Lloyd was off him and across the room. He pulled a fancy envelope from the bookshelf and passed it to him. “Merry Christmas.”

Wesley opened, then yelped in surprise. “It’s like you know me.”

“I like to think so.”

“I mean, know me a latte.”

Lloyd snorted. “Glad you like it.”

Wesley glanced at the receipt for an advanced coffee-art course. He’d mentioned once that he wanted to get more into it, and Lloyd had remembered. Fuck, this best-friends thing was underrated. He wanted this forever.

“We should move in together when we finish at Williamson.”

A rare 100-watt smile lit Lloyd’s face. “It’s like you really know me.”