Chapter Fourteen

Christmas Eve with the Andrews was unlike anything Jordan had ever experienced. He started the day by sleeping in as long as he possibly could. Then he got ready, went upstairs, and watched the second half of The Nutcracker with Lucy. He found that he didn’t really mind it. The dancing was a little bit repetitive for his tastes, but he’d always liked classical music. In fact, he wished he’d realized that this was a Christmas-y thing sooner. He’d have had them blasting Tchaikovsky this whole time.

After that was done, and Lucy was spinning around everywhere like the sugar plum fairy herself, Noah brought out the second attempt at apple cider. It was the perfect blend of sweet and spicy and Jordan kept finding himself downing his glasses faster than the others. Each time, Noah would silently refill it with a satisfied smirk.

As afternoon rolled in, Noah picked out one present for each of them, Jordan included, to open early. These just so happened to be hideous matching green and red pajamas that brought Jordan back to his elf days. Still, Jordan stepped into the bathroom and changed into them right away. They were warm and comfortable and somehow fit him just right. Clothes never fit him perfectly off the rack. It was one of the reasons he’d swallowed his pride and learned the basics of sewing as a kid. He was probably going to use these as winter pajamas for the next couple of years if he were being honest. They were definitely the nicest ones he owned.

Lucy giggled the second she saw him, and Noah gave him a nice cheesy grin. They looked like some sort of sleepy cult in their matching outfits, and honestly? Jordan didn’t hate it. He was cozy and relaxed, and for once he didn’t feel judged or wonder what other people thought of him. Lucy and Noah’s actions these last two weeks had more than spoken for themselves.

Shortly thereafter, Noah and Lucy split off to bake cookies for Santa, while Jordan took a break to call his uncle and make sure he was doing okay. Kenny sounded rougher than normal. His voice was dry and sandpapery, but he was still his usual quick-witted self, which Jordan was glad to see. He even laughed at the matching pajamas thing when Jordan told him.

“Them white folks is treating you good then,” he mused.

“Only one of them is white, Uncle Kenny.” Jordan let loose a smile. “And yes, they are.”

“I’m glad,” Kenny said, punctuated by a cough. “But don’t you go getting a big head and forget who raised you now boy.”

It was a joke, but Jordan could sense the hint of actual worry there.

“Don’t worry Uncle, I’ll never forget that. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Kenny gave a non-committal answer and then hung up. Jordan pressed the phone into his chest and did something he never really did; pray. He prayed for his uncle to get better, that some of this Christmas magic might rub off on him as well. It couldn’t be fun spending the holiday at a hospital.

After that, Jordan went back upstairs and joined Lucy and Noah. They ate dinner and then ventured into the living room so that Lucy could track Santa Claus on the news. Watching her made Jordan’s heart feel alive and warm, the way so few things did these days. That little girl deserved the world.

Eventually the news went off and they all gathered around the fireplace and made s’mores. It was a very messy process and they kept having to go back and forth into the kitchen to get napkins. At one point, Noah was leaving the kitchen while Jordan was entering it, and the two of them got stuck in the archway under the mistletoe. Lucy was absolutely delighted.

“Now you have to kiss!” she insisted.

Jordan turned to Noah with surprised eyes. He didn’t realize this was a tradition that people actually went through with. He studied the other man’s face, unsure of where to go from here. A bright red color was quickly creeping up Noah’s neck and onto his face. He seemed fidgety and flustered and incapable of meeting Jordan’s eyes. Jordan didn’t know what to make of that reaction and he certainly wasn’t about to make any first moves, so he just stood there awkwardly and waited it out.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting, Noah cleared his throat and caught Jordan’s gaze. There was a vulnerability in his big blue eyes that Jordan wasn’t used to and it completely caught him off guard. Without breaking the eye contact, Noah reached down and grabbed hold of his hand as if in slow motion. Jordan was a bit self-conscious because his fingers were still a little bit sticky from the s’mores, but then Noah brought his hand to his lips and Jordan momentarily lost the ability to think anything at all.

Noah placed the gentlest of kisses to Jordan’s knuckle and that tiny bit of contact sent a surge of electricity all up and down his spine. Jordan had no idea why he was feeling this way. Surely, he couldn’t be that touch-starved, and yet here he was, desperate for more.

Then Noah let go and the spell was broken. Jordan brought his hand back to his side and inconspicuously ran his thumb over the knuckle that had just been kissed. He could still feel the ghost of Noah’s lips there, warm and pillow-soft. Jordan cleared his throat.

“I uh, I’m gonna go get my napkin now.”

At that, he and Noah parted ways. Jordan continued his trek into the kitchen and Noah rejoined Lucy by the fireplace. Jordan could hear her complaining about that not being a ‘real kiss.’ He wished he could tell her how real it had felt to him.

Get a grip, he told himself as he washed the remnants of chocolate and marshmallow from his skin. He couldn’t go around getting a hard on for people just because they were nice to him. He was in a bad spot, but he refused to be that desperate.

Jordan went back into the living room and pretended like nothing had happened. Noah was kind enough to do the same.

After several raucous hours spent playing charades, Noah finally put his foot down and sent Lucy up to bed. She pouted and whined and went on and on about wanting to stay up and say hi to Santa, to which Jordan replied, “I’ve met Santa, and I’m pretty sure he won’t come at all unless he knows for sure you’re asleep.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

“That guy wasn’t the real Santa, just like you’re not a real elf.”

“Maybe,” Jordan agreed. “Or maybe he was. There’s no way of knowing. Not even I know for sure.”

Lucy scrunched her little eyebrows together in defiance, but then her father gave her a stern look.

“It’s never too late to get on the naughty list,” he told her. “It’d be a real shame to ruin a year’s worth of good behavior on Christmas Eve…”

Lucy’s eyes went wide.

“Santa wouldn’t do that, not for one little thing. Right Jordan?”

Jordan shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Jordan mused. “There sure are a whole lot of kids in the world for him to give presents to…”

That was all the prompting Lucy needed. She bundled up her little pink blanket in her hands, gave each of them a kiss on the cheek, and then ran upstairs to her room, closing the door behind her. Jordan and Noah waited for a second and then burst into silent laughter.

“The wrapping paper is under your bed in the basement,” Noah whispered between giggles. “Go ahead and bring it up. I’m gonna go make sure she’s actually asleep and then go get the presents.”

Jordan nodded, and crept downstairs feeling like a spy or a ninja. How did parents consistently pull this off year in and year out? He wondered. It seemed like a whole lot of work.

Jordan gathered up all the shiny rolls filled with cheerful designs and brought them upstairs as instructed. He had just finished laying them all out in rainbow order when Noah padded back down and gave him a thumbs up.

“She’s completely passed out,” he told him. He paused to grab the plate of cookies they’d left out for Santa and set it on the floor between them. “This is where the magic happens.”

Noah wasn’t kidding. They spent the rest of the night wrapping presents and stuffing stockings (yes, Noah had specifically bought stuff to put in his own), drinking spiked eggnog and having the time of their lives. Jordan didn’t know why, but even though his ribs hurt, and his wrapping skills were abysmal, he was having the time of his life. There was a flurry of snow falling outside, the warm crackling fire beside them and the quickly growing mountain of toys under the tree. He was also finding everything that Noah was saying absolutely hilarious, which was probably a result of the alcohol.

“You’re a lightweight,” Noah teased him.

“Booze is expensive,” Jordan countered.

Noah laughed and topped off his glass.

“You have a point,” he said. “Now turn around. I’ve gotta fill your stocking as well.”

Jordan couldn’t help but laugh at how sexual that sentence sounded. Noah blushed and whacked him with a loose ribbon.

“Be quiet,” he hissed. “You’ll wake up Lucy.”

Jordan clamped a hand over his mouth and continued laughing. Noah rolled his eyes, a gesture that made him look so much like his daughter, but eventually he started laughing too. They were trying so hard to keep the volume down that they ended up sounding like a bunch of strangled dolphins, which only made things funnier.

“Ow, my ribs,” Jordan complained, once he could finally form words again. “They have a real shitty sense of humor.”

Noah’s smile slipped.

“Shit really? Are you okay?”

Jordan looked up at him in confusion.

“Uh, yeah. It just hurts is all.”

Noah shook his head.

“Of course, it does. It’s just, you never say anything about it. I thought maybe you were recovering faster than anticipated.”

Jordan shook his head.

“No, it’s still pretty terrible. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes because it feels like I’m suffocating and every time I laugh or cough, I can feel the bones moving around in there. It’s awful.”

Noah’s brow furrowed.

“Isn’t there something they can do about that?”

Jordan didn’t feel like explaining about the whole pain medication thing. He just shook his head and said, “Nope. I’ve just gotta take it easy and try not to get pneumonia.”

Jordan rubbed at his bullet entry scar absentmindedly.

“Can I see it?” Noah asked suddenly.

“See what?”

“Your scar,” he clarified. “I caught a glimpse of it when you were showing Lucy, but I wanna see how bad it really is.”

Jordan stared the other man down for a few seconds and tried to think of a convincing reason not to show him. Unable to do so, he set down his eggnog and started slowly unbuttoning his pajama shirt. Then he sat there with his bare chest exposed like a model on the front of a romance novel. The firelight created shadows that danced across his skin, giving life to the web of multicolored bruises up and down the length of his torso.

Noah let out a soft startled sound. He reached out a trembling finger to trace the nearest patch of swollen green and blue skin. Even that featherlight touch made Jordan wince.

“Okay,” Noah said, using his authoritative dad voice. “That’s it. Get up. You’re going to lie down on the couch for the rest of the night. You’ve already done more than enough physical activity.”

Jordan wanted to protest that he was fine, but Noah’s arms were so warm around him that he couldn’t help but lean into the touch as the older man helped him to his feet. Once he was laying down, Noah re-buttoned his shirt, covered him with a blanket, and turned the TV to the first Christmas movie he could find. It was one of the old Claymation ones that was cute on the surface, but deeply unsettling if you thought about it too hard. Luckily, Jordan was in an altered state where he couldn’t think about much of anything other than how nice Noah smelled and how comfortable he was and how the blanket covering his body was so warm and heavy, just the way he liked it. His eyes kept fluttering shut against his will.

“No peeking,” Noah said, sitting down on the arm of the couch by Jordan’s feet and beginning to pile small gifts into his stocking. Jordan tried to make a snappy retort, but before he knew it, he was transported from the couch and into a world of his own making.