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Closer, yes.
Chapter Thirty
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During the ridehome from Robert and Barry’s house we chatted about Windy and Minty and their kinky dates. We fiercely ignored Minty’s HIV status and the fear it engendered in both of us for him. We didn’t want to ruin the night ahead. When we ran out of gossip, we sang along to cheesy Christmas music over the radio, and discussed the Christmas Plan of Action, as I had dubbed it.
“We’ll pop the corn,” I said, sleigh bells ringing through the car speakers. “And then we’ll string it with all those sequins Robert gave us.”
“While we do that, we’ll eat cookies and watchThe Grinch. You brought the VHS tape?”
“In my bag at your house. And, after we get the garland made, we’ll wrap it around the tree, and finish decorating with the new ornaments you bought.” I lifted his hand and kissed the back of his knuckles. “Are you going to miss your family ornaments?”
I still had the Christmas tree—aka Hanukkah bush—at my folks’ house to decorate later in the week, and I always looked forward to hanging specific ones that held precious memories.
“I kept a few of my childhood favorites, but I sent the rest of our old ones in a box down to Mom and the kids. They’ll appreciate having them. And I like having new ornaments.”
“All yours.”
“All ours,” he corrected, squeezing my thigh.
At the house, we dragged the tree across from Daniel’s sectional sofa, laughing as it wept pine needles onto the wood floor. Wrestling it into the position I liked best brought even more laughter, and while I started munching on the popcorn we’d popped to string into garland, Daniel sorted through a box of mixtapes he hadn’t yet unpacked.
“Where is it?” he muttered, and then came up with a battered-looking cassette case, triumphant. “Here! I made this from my mother’s old vinyl records a few years ago. You can still hear the pop and hiss of the vinyl.” He turned to the stereo he’d brought from the old house—sold for a bundle of money and forever gone from his life—and started up the music.
Nat King Cole’s voice filled the room with warmth as Daniel went out to the porch and came back with an armful of logs. They’d been left there a few days ago by a neighbor who’d brought them over for Bobby every year, and had told Daniel he’d bring logs for him, too.
After Daniel got the fire started, he stopped the music and putThe GrinchVHS tape in the player. We watched the movie as we put together popcorn-and-sequins garlands and sipped the champagne he’d bought and chilled earlier. It was relaxed, easy, and by the time the Whos down in Whoville had their happy ending, we had enough garlands to wrap around the tree’s branches.
Once we had the ornaments up, we draped a bedsheet around the bottom of the tree as a makeshift tree-skirt, and Daniel sat beside me on the sofa, a little tipsy and very smiley, looking at our joint effort. “It’s great, don’t you think?”
I turned to him and straddled his thighs. “It’s totally great.”
Daniel laughed into my kiss, but his hands came to clutch my ass and tug me closer. “What else should we do to celebrate our first Christmas together?” he whispered. “Got any ideas?”
“I sure do.”
“Me too.”
Before long, we were naked on the sofa, the coverlet he’d bought the week before beneath his back, as I kissed and licked my way down his body to his cock. The blow job was messy and unfinished because he pulled me up to kiss me again. Then he flipped us over, me on my back, and him above me. He knelt between my legs before pushing them up to my chest to get at my asshole.
I gripped his hair as he licked and prepped me, feeling giddy with lust by the time he sat back on his heels, staring down at me with wide pupils and red lips.
I reached for him, but he turned away, sliding open the drawer in the coffee table he’d picked up recently. He took out a fresh tube of lube. As I watched, he slicked his cock…
No condom.
My heart pounded as I reached out for him, my already-shaky hands trembling even harder.
“This okay?” he asked.
I whispered, “It’s good.”
Quickly, he smeared lube on my asshole, and then, leaning forward to press the head of his cock against me, he whispered, “You’re sure?”
“Are you?”
He nodded. “I trust you.”
