Christmas Day
Heading down the stairs to find where the glorious smell was coming from, Stuart felt his arse twinge as he walked. A sappy grin had his mouth twitching.
The worry over last night had given him a couple of restless nights sleep and a whole heap of distraction at work. It had finally twigged when he’d walked into the bedroom naked and more aroused than he’d been in his life. His worries had been unfounded. Now he’d tried the whole “bring your friends to watch” scenario, he would be interested in doing it again.
Hell. The feel of all those eyes on him and Joe had him coming harder than he’d ever had in his life. Joe, the little fucker, had played him better than the world-renowned violinist, Mark Wood. His whole body had danced to Joe’s tune, and he found he was more than happy with that.
So much so that it had reinforced his plan for today. A plan that had Stuart’s mouth dry and his feet falter as he hit the bottom of the stairs. He felt the wave of heat from the radiators and the fire Joe would have lit the minute he’d got downstairs. A drop of sweat slid down his forehead, tickling the side of his left eye. Stuart swiped at it with the back of his hand. He couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble when he pulled it away to wipe it against his other hand.
He could pretend he was sweating bullets from the heat, but he knew better. The little box he’d shoved into the bottom of the bag of gifts they were taking to Brad and Martin’s so they could open them all together was the real culprit.
“Stuart, what are you doing hovering in the hall?” Joe’s laughter filtered down the hall from the kitchen as he shouted. Joe had heard Stuart coming down the stairs a full five minutes ago, and then for some reason, he’d stopped.
Joe poked his head out of the kitchen, checking out Stuart’s expression. He hoped like hell he wasn’t regretting what they’d done last night.
Fuck. Or should that be fuckity fuck?
Joe pulled his now flaming face back into the kitchen when Stuart’s rigid back seemed to relax. Joe hid his face behind his hair, letting it flop forward over his cheeks to hide the stain of red heating them.
He’d gone and reviewed the recording from last night while Stuart slept. He’d wanted to make copies for the guys, as gifts. In hindsight, he wasn’t so sure that had been a good idea when he’d needed to have a quick wank in his freezing van. His body hadn’t give a shit how cold it was in there. All it had wanted was to combust at what he was seeing on the screen.
Joe wafted his hand in front of his face, doing his best to cool himself, but that was nigh on impossible when the images were burned into his retinas.
Stuart strolled into the kitchen, interrupting his thoughts. He shifted his thickening length before turning from the cooker. Thankfully there was a genuine smile lighting Stuart’s face as he offered up his lips and gave him a thorough kiss. A kiss that melted away any anxiety he’d had, but it didn’t help the action that was going on in his trousers.
Joe moaned into Stuart’s mouth. The taste of toothpaste combined with Stuart’s unique flavour made the breakfast he’d been cooking seem bland. Stuart wrapped his hands under his arse cheeks, lifting him until he was plastered against Stuart’s chest. Their turgid lengths met when Joe wrapped his legs around Stuart’s waist and humped. He let his body take over when Stuart dragged his mouth from his lips and slid up his neck. He could feel his lips draw on the sensitive skin behind his ear. His chest heaved in time with Stuart’s. Their breathless moans filled the kitchen, drowning out the sound of sizzling.
Joe jerked back at the sound of the fire alarm blaring to life. He turned his unfocused gaze back to the cooker and the now charred sausages he’d been frying, his nose at last registering the smell of burning meat.
Joe chuckled.
He shouted over the noise, “You and your mouth are bloody lethal.” He slid down Stuart, forcing his body to co-operate when it was the last thing he wanted to do. But setting fire to the kitchen was also not on his to-do list today.
“Can you open the patio door and switch off the bloody alarm before it has all the neighbours complaining.” Joe grabbed the pan off the heat, hoping to salvage some of the food.
The sudden silence had him looking back at Stuart, offering him a grin of thanks.
Stuart strolled back to Joe after opening the door to let out the smoky air. Stuart watched Joe plating up the other food warming under the grill. Joe glared at the burnt sausages before picking the two that looked the least cremated and putting them on a plate.
Stuart struggled to keep his face straight. His lips twitched at Joe’s furrowed brow and pouting lips. He took the plates from Joe, giving his pouting mouth a quick brush with his. His aching cock was not so happy with that, but Stuart could see the effort Joe had gone to, to make a full English breakfast. He disregarded the tightness below his belt.
Stuart’s eyes landed on the table. He blinked slowly, taking a breath. He hoped to God he didn’t cry. The welling tears he could feel aching at the back of his eyes had him wishing that they’d stay put.
The red cloth covering the wood had bold Christmas decorations printed on the fabric. The bright and cheerful cloth had matching serviettes. There were two beautiful wine glasses with red stems sitting by gleaming cutlery. A Christmas yuletide log sat in the middle of the table with a fat Santa sitting on a sleigh, which was being pulled by half a dozen reindeer. There were dark green and silver crackers placed next to the two colourful place mats that clashed with the crackers. But Stuart couldn’t find it in him to care when he could clearly see how much effort Joe had made for their first Christmas breakfast together.
He sat down, placing the food on the table, and blinked rapidly. He swallowed. He prayed he’d be able to eat and hold down the food when his stomach reminded him of what he had planned for later.
Stuart snatched up his knife and fork, counting to calm his pounding pulse. He watched as Joe’s brow scrunched up.
“You okay?” The slight tremble in Joe’s tone had Stuart offer him a big grin.
“You bet your gorgeous backside. Come on, sit and eat.” Stuart chatted, hoping Joe didn’t notice his nervousness. He flicked a quick glance at the wall clock, sighing at the time. He wasn’t sure how many hours he could keep this up for before he broke down and demanded they open their gifts here.
He chewed his food slowly, enjoying the crispy taste of the bacon. He wondered if Brad and Martin were up early and they could change the time they went over?
Greg groaned loudly. His body melted into the mattress as Aaden rolled to the side, collapsing onto his back. His sweaty chest was heaving.
“I’m already loving Christmas. And I haven’t even got all my presents yet.” Greg’s breathless words were met with total stillness. He cast a glance at Aaden and saw a wary expression cover his face.
“Why are you looking like that?” Greg held his breath, waiting for an answer. He pouted at the prospect of not having any more gifts, other than the bare cock he’d just had in his arse. Not that that, in itself, wasn’t the best gift ever. But he’d kinda expected to get other gifts as well.
Aaden kept his fake expression in place when Greg looked crestfallen. Seeing his lower lip wobble, he found he couldn’t pretend any longer. He burst out laughing. “If you could see your face, my redheaded beauty.”
Aaden choked on the laughter when Greg launched himself onto his chest, smearing cum over him and the sheets.
“Of course, I have other gifts for you.” As Aaden spoke, he held Greg against his chest, rolling them both towards the bedside drawers. Reaching out, he opened the bottom drawer and lifted out the tiny flat square box he’d hid yesterday, before he’d gone to the party.
The partially closed curtains allowed the soft mid-morning sunlight to filter through the gap. The light shimmered over Greg’s body, letting Aaden to see the orange disaster that was his boyfriend.
Does it make a difference to me?
Aaden already knew the answer.
Not a cat in hell’s chance does it.
It made not a blind bit of difference to him either that the feelings whelming inside him were not solely his. He loved with not only his soul but with the soul of another. And wasn’t that the most marvelous thing?
He shifted back, leaning against the cream headboard. He settled Greg across his legs until he straddled his thighs. He wanted to see his reaction, to know Greg wanted what he wanted. The two days they were apart had been torturous, and though it had only been weeks since they’d declared their feelings, Aaden wanted Greg with him, now and always.
He took a deep breath, offering the wrapped box to Greg.
Greg felt the air around them shift with a sense of knowing, he was learning to understand, meant something big was about to happen. His hand shook as he took the offered box from a silent and watchful Aaden. His dark onyx eyes seemed to glow brightly, even though they were black.
Greg tried to keep his thoughts to himself, hoping he wasn’t projecting his anxiety as he tore into the wrapping paper. He laughed breathlessly when he couldn’t get into the present with the amount of sellotape that had been used.
“Are you sure you want me to open this? Fuck. Aaden, what did you do? Use the whole roll of sellotape?” Greg giggled when Aaden eyed him as he stuck the box between his teeth and chewed on the tape. He finally managed to get a corner loose so he could pull off the remaining blue sparkly wrapping paper. He felt his excitement grow when he lifted the lid of the small brown box.
His eyes flew up from the contents of the box, his mind trying to register what his eyes were telling him. His mouth opened, then closed.
He gulped. His Adam’s apple bobbed furiously when Aaden gave him a slow smile and a nod of his head, answering the unspoken question.
“You want me to move in?” It wasn’t enough; Greg needed to hear the words. And yes, he knew he must have made Aaden’s head hurt with the shout of joy he’d let rip in his head. But he couldn’t find it in him to give two shits. He was beyond happy right now, and he didn’t care who knew.
“Yes. The last couple of days without you were dreadful, knowing you were close, but that I wasn’t going to be able to see you. No. I can’t live like that.” Aaden struggled not to choke on his riding emotions when Greg’s sky-blue eyes brimmed with joy. “Anyway, it’s probably the only way to stop you covering your skin in that crap and making you glow brighter than Saturn.”
Aaden’s words were buried under Greg’s mouth when he launched himself at his boyfriend.
Greg smothered Aaden in giggly kisses. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Even if you’re a cheeky sod. Though you could be right about saving me from future disasters. I’m not sure Gemma would speak to me again if she had to scrub me down once more.”
Quicker than a flash Greg was rolled onto his back with Aaden hovering over him.
“What do you mean?” Aaden’s growl had Greg’s cock take notice.
“Well, someone had to help get that crap off my…”
Aaden held up his hand, stopping him. “Are you telling me it looked worse than this?” Aaden pointed to his chest, which was particularly bad.
Greg gave a mournful sigh.
He pointed to his phone sitting on the far side of the bed where he’d laid it last night. “If you’re feeling brave, you can have a look. But I warn you. You aren’t getting your key back.”
Aaden’s eyes widened. His brows shot up under his hair right before a deep furrow appeared between his eyes. He laid his forehead against Greg’s. “God help me.”
Greg giggled when all Aaden did was kiss him instead of reaching for the phone. He allowed himself to get lost in the kiss.
Greg growled in disappointment when someone pounded at the bedroom door. “If we stay quiet, maybe they’ll go away,” he whispered.
“Get your lazy backsides out of bed. Come on. I made a big Christmas breakfast for us all on the poxy two-ringed cooker. So the least you can do is come and eat it.”
Brody’s husky voice filtered through the door, causing Aaden to roll off him and Greg to grumble when Aaden pulled on his navy sweatpants and grey T-shirt.
Aaden shouted back that they’d be there in five as he urged Greg out of the warm nest of their bed. He turned his back as Greg wiped at the dried cum on his arse, stomach, and legs. Aaden choked back a chuckle when Greg muttered about ingrates. He watched Greg’s flexing backside sway as he walked to the wardrobes. Not needing anymore temptation, Aaden left the room.
He knocked on Nick’s door before turning the handle. Surprised when he found it locked. He knocked harder. “Nick. Nick, you all right in there?”
He waited, listening for any signs of life.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Nick stumble to the door, unlocking it. The unruly bed hair and dark circles under his eyes had him step closer, peering down at him. “What’s up, bro?” As he spoke, he registered Nick’s lack of crutches and orthopedic boot.
“Fuck, Nick. What are you trying to do?” He lifted Nick up without thinking, stalking back into his tip of a bedroom. He saw the discarded boot and crutches lying on the floor.
He dumped Nick onto the unmade bed and stalked towards the crutches. Aaden stilled when Nick’s sleepy voice penetrated past his concern.
“Christina fixed it. See, it’s as good as new.”
Aaden was too busy focusing on Nick that he missed when Brody walked through the open door, just in time to hear Nick and watch him bounce on his clearly unbroken foot.
Aaden caught sight of Brody. He cursed silently at the flabbergasted expression on Brody’s face. Aaden’s hand moved to his stomach when it clenched.
Aaden did what he always did when a situation like this arose. He shouted for Max. He wanted to sigh out loud, knowing this was not going to be good for any of them.
How the fucking, shitting hell am I going to explain this one?
When Greg charged into the bedroom, Aaden sent him an apologetic look. He realised too late he must have shouted more loudly than he’d thought if the glower Greg threw at him was anything to go by.
Everyone seemed to halt at once when Brody broke the silence.
“What the fuck is going on here? Can someone explain to me who Christina is and how the hell she can fix broken bones?” The softly spoken questions were laced with steel as Brody stood tall, making sure to meet everyone’s eyes before he finally landed his flinty glare on Aaden.
Aaden gave him a “not now” look when he saw Nick’s panic start to take over. His small chest heaved as he struggled to draw in a breath. Aaden went to move, but Brody beat him to it. Aaden felt his brow furrow. This was the second time he’d had to contend with Brody fighting to take over where Nick was concerned.
Aaden chewed his lip, giving both men his full attention. He’d never considered using his gift on either man before, seeing it as a breach of trust. Yet sensing the tension now filling the room, he was tempted. The warm hand on his arm had him look at Greg, who shook his head. The internal “don’t you dare” had him move his gaze back to the bed, where Brody clasped Nick in his lap, not letting him escape. Not that Nick was fighting him.
Feeling uneasy at the sudden shift in his best friend’s and brother’s relationship, Aaden took comfort from Greg’s reassuring grip. “Brody, let Nick go.” His harsh command was met with an arched brow.
“No. Not until I get some answers from squirt. Go down and eat the breakfast I’ve made. We’ll be down in a few minutes.”
The plea in Brody’s voice and eyes had Aaden stepping back when Nick lowered his head in defeat.
Aaden hesitated.
“It’s okay, Aaden. Go. I’ll be fine. I won’t let out any secrets.”
Brody’s head shot round to pin Aaden with a hostile glare. Aaden held up his hands when it looked as if Brody was going to drop Nick and pick a fight with him. Needing to calm the situation that seemed to be getting more out of hand, Aaden spoke up, “Listen, we’ll all go down for breakfast. Brody, you know there is something different about me. Well, if you stop glowering and looking like you want to rip my head off, I’ll explain. Just leave Nick to get dressed, and he’ll follow us downstairs.”
When it looked like Brody was going to argue, Nick placed his hand on Brody’s rigid arm. “I’ll be down in five minutes. Let me sort myself out. Then we’ll all explain what you’ve got mixed up with.”
The resignation in Nick’s voice had Aaden worry his lip. He followed the others downstairs, but not before he caught the defeated look that swam into Nick’s watery eyes.
He stomped downstairs. The noise made him feel slightly better. He shouted again for Max, only to have Greg shout back for him to stop shouting. He searched the house when he couldn’t find Max in the kitchen.
He growled as he walked back into the kitchen.
Where the fuck has he got to?
Aaden grabbed his mobile from the kitchen worktop and rang Brad. When Brad explained he couldn’t find Princess either, Aaden relaxed. “I bet the pair of them are off doing… stuff. Stuff I don’t want to even think about.” He felt reassured when Brad seemed to laugh at his worry. The request to come earlier at two pm for lunch had him grinning when his stomach gurgled at the thoughts of Brad’s planned meal. Ending the call, Aaden sent out a silent prayer their cats would be hungry enough to return for some food and soon.
Aaden chuckled at the thought of Max missing a meal.
His laughter died when Nick stepped into the kitchen without the hint of even a limp.
Show and tell. I’m so looking forward to this. Not.