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“It’s a work in progress,” Stefan insists. “There will be a lot more things I want to add out here. Like a TV. And that hot tub in the back. Remember those tiles that you liked that we didn’t end up using at Parker’s? I’m gonna renovate our bathroom, next.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You really have some seriously impressive skills here, Stefan. I can’t believe you did all of this on your own.”
“Well, I had a tiny bit of help here and there.”
“You’re a fucking natural.” I can’t stop staring in awe.
“Another mistletoe.”
I blink and turn to him. “What?”
He kisses me again, pulling me against his body. When our hips press together, I feel something else throbbing in his pants with need.
We’re going to have to move on to his next early present very soon.
“I want to see this sexy outfit,” I tell him when the kiss ends. “You’ve decked out my backyard. Literally. Now I want you to deck … you out.”
“Oh, it’ll come later tonight. Rest assured. But first: getting you out of these clothes … and filling your belly with a tasty, long-awaited dinner … followed by a nice, warm, relaxing shower.”
I grin. “It’s a good day at Resort Del Baker.”
His fingers trace their way up my shirt, then mischievously pull each of its buttons open—pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop—and then my shirt is on the floor. Next, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my slacks.
That’s where he makes a pleasant discovery. “My habit has really rubbed off on you,” he notes.
“All the cool peeps free-ball it.”
With his finger still hooked on the waistband of my slacks, he pulls me back into the house toward our bedroom where a more comfortable change of clothes awaits before dinner and a shower.
We take a whole half hour “changing” my clothes.
Our lips seem addicted to one another’s.
Forgetting that anything else exists in the world other than our lips and our passion is a daily habit I don’t mind never kicking.
The whole time we’re eating, he won’t stop staring at me.
“Really, if you wanted me to be the dinner, you could’ve just asked,” I tell him after a bite of my ridiculously perfectly cooked pasta in a wine-and-basil sauce.
He smirks as he tears a piece of Italian bread in half. “My mom wanted me to ask you about that minced meat pie you said you’d make for the party.”
“Oh, yeah. Christmas dinner at the Baker’s.” I shake my head. “I hope everyone likes it. It’s a totally new recipe I found that I’ve been wanting to try. Oh, and you’ll finally get to meet my sister all grown up! I’m so excited she’s finally coming down. Can you believe it’s been over six months since I last saw her?”
“We have a lot of things to look forward to.”
“We do,” I agree, smiling at him across the table as I fork up my last tasty bite. “Kinda like my next early Christmas gift.”
“Wow. I spoil the fuck out of you, don’t I? Where the hell’s my early Christmas presents?”
“Guess you’ll have to wait,” I tell him, “until my mouth … and your cock … figure it out.”
Stefan abandons the rest of his dinner and grabs me right out of my chair, slinging me over a shoulder and swatting my butt as I laugh and fight him for all of two seconds.
When he’s horny and has me over his shoulder, it’s futile to try and resist.
He always gets his way.
The next moment, I’m tossed onto the bed like a used sock. I flip onto my back to face him. Stefan looms over me like a giant, and his eyes are full of hungry intent.
“Strip,” he orders me. “I’m going to change. I want you on this bed, naked, and waiting for me when I return.”
“You got it, coach,” I tease him.
Stefan smirks. “I’d hardly call what I do coaching. It’s more like organized chaos on a field with a bunch of lonely gay kids.”
“So what you’re saying is: ‘Thank you for that one Saturday when you took me to the monthly LGBTQIA-plus youth meeting to speak to a bunch of kids about myself and meet other gay men and women who care about helping the world’s lost youth’? You’re welcome, Stefan.”
“We were once lost youth,” mutters Stefan at my doorway.
“Now I’m a school counselor, and you’re a man of many, many skills. You unite all the lonely gay youth of Newmont, Texas—and other surrounding towns like Fairview, Spruce, and the outskirts of our mother city of Houston—every month through the love of sports. You generously and thoroughly renovate people’s homes and thereby save their lives one room or lavishly decked-out deck at a time …”
“You speak way too highly of me. I’m just yesterday’s washed-up athlete and a glorified handyman.”
