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By the time Ben had finished unwrapping his gifts, he looked a bit shell-shocked. Simon cursed himself for overdoing it, even though he’d tried to restrain himself as much as possible. He’d wanted to buy Ben a new phone, a laptop, hell, a car, but he’d managed to refrain. Simon was glad he had. He would spoil the hell out of Ben, but he had to go about it slowly. Too much and Ben just couldn’t cope with it all.
When everything had been unwrapped except for two gift bags, Ben, looking adorably flushed, said he had his presents to give out. He handed a bag to each of them.
Simon found something flat and rectangular wrapped in tissue paper. He tore that away to find a framed portrait of Ben. The detail was spectacular. Simon couldn’t fathom how mere pencil and paper could bring forth an image so full of both beauty and life. Ben’s self-portrait contained all his flaws but none of them in any way detracted from his beauty. If anything they made the portrait look all the more real, like the image might turn to him and speak.
He looked up from Ben’s portrait to tell him how wonderful it was and saw his mothertearfulandhuggingBen.
“Is… are you alright, Mother?”
“No, I’m not,” she all but wailed.
“What did you give her?” Simon asked Ben.
“The sketch I’d made of you. I want to see it.”
“Please tell me I’m not naked in the picture.”
Shocked out of her weepiness, Simon’s mother gasped. “Naked?” she asked with horror.
“No,” Ben told him, looking exasperated. “Just your portrait. They’re not much, but…”
“I love mine,” Simon said. “It’s my favorite present this year.”
Simon and his mother exchanged portraits and he was both amazed and moved by how Ben had caught his likeness. With just charcoal, Ben had captured him perfectly.
His mother seemed equally impressed by Ben. “Don’t you dare apologize for your talent, Ben! I won’t have it. This picture you’ve drawn of my son… you really love him, don’t you?”
Ben, looking gobsmacked, nodded.
“I can tell,” Mother said. “It practically jumps off the page. Young man, I know we got off on the wrong foot and you need to know now how much I regret it. Thank you for this. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Simon this happy, and you’ve captured it perfectly.” She reached forward and took Ben’s good hand. “Your making my son happy is the only gift you’ll ever need to give me. Thank you.”
Ben, red as a beet, stammered out a reply.
Mother kissed his cheek, gave him another hug, then took her portrait and said she was going to bed.
Simon pulled Ben down to sit on his lap on the couch. He held the other man tight as the fire died down in the hearth. “Merry Christmas,” Simon said. “The first of many.”
“Merry Christmas. Can we go to bed now?”
“Are you tired, sweet?” Simon asked.
“Not really,” Ben said. “But I do owe you blowjobs.”
“Bed sounds great. Let’s go now.”
Ben laughed and gave Simon an enthusiastic kiss.
It was, Simon decided, the best Christmas he’d ever had.
37
Ben Sees Fireworks
Tuesday, December 26
Simon’s townhouse
The Gold Coast
