Inside, Abby and Jake are sitting by the fire sipping champagne. Kneeling by the coffee table, Tracy fills two more glasses and then stands to throw her arms around Mason’s neck and hug him.
“Okay, okay. Let me put the food down before I drop it all.” He kisses her cheek as he wriggles free of her grasp, puts down the bags, and drops into his armchair with a sigh of relief. It’s been a long day and made longer by worrying about Rian driving; he’s glad it’s over. Glad to be here with his family.
“How are your folks, Abs? I didn’t get a chance to say more than a quick hello earlier.” He takes his glass from Rian and pats his lap. Slides his free arm around Rian’s waist when he sits, leaning against his chest.
“They’re good. We’re going to head over after we do the shelters tomorrow. They said for you guys to call in too. You too Tracy.”
Mason nods. He looks around the room while he sips his champagne. Icy cold and crisp on his tongue, it’s delicious and, he realizes, just what he wanted.
“So who else was in on it?” he asks.
“On what?” Tracy pretends innocence. Mason just narrows his eyes and shakes his head until she relents. “Only us. We couldn’t trust anyone else to keep it quiet and we knew if Harry found out we’d be screwed.”
He digs his fingers into Rian’s side. “I suppose you’re feeling pleased with yourself.”
“I knew you couldn’t resist me, babe.”
Mason rolls his eyes and fights a yawn. In the corner of the room is a small Christmas tree, surrounded by a pile of brightly wrapped presents. He watches the lights blink on and off for a moment. Christmas was always tinged with sadness for him after the death of Jake’s mother. The thought that had he made different choices she might not have been driving home from dropping Jake to spend the weekend with him and would still be alive always bothered him most at Christmas time. Seeing families together and feeling he was somehow responsible for his son missing out on that had been difficult to shake.
If he’d made different choices though would he be here? He doesn’t think so. There’d be no Mason Jar. No Harry demanding his damned glass of wine and no timid, tearful Olivia jumping three feet in the air every time he calls out to her. His sister would probably just be someone he catches up with at family events instead of his best friend. The young man sitting opposite him, his arm around the girl he’s been dating since he was a high school sophomore, would probably find something far more interesting to do at Christmas than hang out with his old man. He wouldn’t have Rian.
Fingers click in front of his face and he gives himself a shake. Rian gives him a bemused look. “Where were you?”
“Just thinking how grateful I am for you all.” He drains his glass and eases Rian off his lap. “And that presents can wait until later. I don’t know what the rest of you are doing but I’m going to bed.”
He stands and hugs first Tracy then Abby, before turning to look at Jake. A rush of emotion threatens to overwhelm Mason and he pulls him to his chest.
“I love you, kiddo.”
“You too, Dad.” Jake leans back and grins, blue eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “I’m glad you said yes.”
“Me too. He’s a lunatic but he makes me happy.”
“Good. You deserve happy.”
Mason pulls him back into his arms and kisses the side of his head. “Thank you for helping make it happen.”
“You’re welcome.” Jake slips free of the embrace and puts his arm around Abby. “See you in the morning guys.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Rian locks the doors and checks the fire is banked and the fire guard is in place. He hears Mason putting food in the fridge then the sound of champagne being poured and goes into the kitchen.
“Thought you were tired.” He slides his hands around Mason’s waist and rests his forehead between his shoulders.
“I am.” Mason turns in his arm, holding the champagne glasses up. “But I haven’t seen you for three weeks and you just asked me to marry you.”
Rian skims his lips over Mason’s. Smiles. “You said yes.”
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. No going back now.” He kisses him again, this time tracing the seam of Mason’s mouth with the tip of his tongue, before pulling away and taking his glass. “Come on let’s go to bed.”
Once in the bedroom, they decide showers can wait for tomorrow, clean their teeth and undress. While Mason takes his contact lenses out, Rian pulls on a pair of soft sleep pants and turns the covers back on the bed. Climbs in and waits. When he returns, Mason is wearing tartan pajama pants and a plain red t-shirt.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asks waving a hand at Rian’s bare chest. Rian pulls him down onto the bed without an answer and helps him get settled under the covers. Hands him his glass. Mason’s lips are champagne-wet when he kisses Rian’s chest. Rian places his glass on the nightstand, then takes Mason’s and does the same before rolling toward him. Lets his hands roam over the red t-shirt until he’s cupping Mason’s ass with both hands. “Want to warm me up?”
“Maybe.” This is the Mason that only Rian gets to see. Relaxed, loving, and sometimes even playful.
“I’m sorry you were worried earlier.” He presses their foreheads together and chuckles at the muffled hum he gets in response. “I would have called but I knew you’d be swamped with people and I figured I should just keep driving.”
Rian nips at Mason’s bottom lip, then flicks the tip of his tongue over the spot to soothe it. Mason opens his mouth and lets him in with a soft sigh. Wanting to feel skin against skin, Rian tugs at Mason’s t-shirt, working it off over his head and discarding it. Better. Much better. He drags his fingers up Mason’s side and over his ribs. Scrapes his thumb nail over a nipple until it’s stiff and hard.
He rolls his hips forward, pressing their erections together. Mason whimpers, a low, wounded sound that goes straight to Rian’s cock. He fumbles with Mason’s pajama pants, pulling at them and getting nowhere until Mason huffs with impatience, pushes his hand away and yanks them off.
Rian settles back on the mattress, breath coming in short, sharp bursts and takes his own pants off. His cock rests against his belly, hard and leaking. Mason nudges his thighs apart, nestles between them and swirls his tongue around the tip, licking up the precum pooling on his skin. Then, without warning, he closes his lips around the damp cockhead and sucks. Rian arches up off the bed with a muffled groan and gropes for a pillow to cover his mouth with.
“Oh, fuck,” he moans, rocking against Mason’s mouth, chasing sensation. Mason alternates licking and sucking, gentle and hard, slow and fast until Rian can barely think. His fingers tighten in Mason’s hair, tugging at the blond strands while holding his head in place. He can feel the slip-slide of Mason’s cock against his leg. Warm, velvety skin leaving a trail of dampness with each movement.
Mason relaxes his throat and takes him deeper. Electricity zings down his spine and he cries out against the pillow, no longer caring if anyone hears them. It’s the only warning he has time to give before every nerve in his body seems to tighten and he surges up, cock spasming and twitching as he comes. He’s vaguely aware of Mason shoving a hand down between them and stroking his cock hard and fast and tries to help by pressing his leg against the back of Mason’s hand.
His softening cock slips free and Mason drops his head against Rian’s belly, breath warm on his damp skin. Rian lets go of his hair and runs his fingers over Mason’s shoulders as he drops back against the pillow. With a ragged moan, Mason stiffens and his cock pulses. Wet warmth bursts over Rian’s skin making his own body shiver in response.
Reaching for a Kleenex with one hand, he pulls Mason up onto his chest with the other. Offers him the tissue and waits while Mason cleans himself off, then wraps his arms around him.
“Next time call anyway,” Mason murmurs against his chest and he smiles.
“I missed you too.” Sleepy kisses are being pressed to his bare skin and he gropes
for the comforter; drags it up over the two of them. Mason mumbles something indecipherable and a soft snore rises from between them. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
FIN
♦ ♦ ♦
CHRISTMAS SHELLS
(Alex & Ben)
“Really? That’s the one you’re going with?”
“Yeah. It’s perfect.”
Alex sighs and counts back from ten, rocking the stroller to distract a less than impressed Lucy who has been trying to wriggle out of her straps for ten minutes. He suspects she finds Christmas Trees boring and he’s inclined to agree with her. “It’s too big.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Ben–”
“It’s not like there’s a great selection, baby.” Ben waves his hand around the near empty lot. “It’s this or one of the half dead ones.”
“And whose fault is that?” Alex throws his arms up in frustration. They’d had a perfectly good Christmas tree with perfectly good decorations. Right up until yesterday when Ben had decided that since it was raining, he would roll the tennis ball around the living room for Bart. Alex tried to stop him. Their sixteen-year-old, Jamie tried to stop him. Hell, Ally tried to stop him. And when the inevitable after the ball as it rolled behind the tree, and tree and decorations crashe to a loud and messy end, Lucy had broken the silence with a loud and clearly enunciated “shit”.
“Dork Dog’s,” Ben replies with a grin. Alex shakes his head. God knows he loves Ben but some days …
“How exactly are you going to get that thing home?”
“Roof. Volvo. Not rocket science baby.”
“Daddy.” Alex looks down when Ally tugs on his shirt. The same wide, green eyes as Ben’s blink at him.
“Yeah honey?”
“I’m hungry.”
Alex sighs and tries one last time, even though he knows it’s pointless. “You’ll never get it on the car.”
“The guys here will help me.” Ben gestures to a couple of guys leaning against the fence and Alex throws his hands up in defeat. “Why don’t you take the girls over to Melinda’s and order lunch while we get it on the roof and then I’ll be right over.”
Ally whoops in agreement and starts bouncing around Alex’s legs listing off things she wants for lunch. In her stroller, Lucy kicks her feet and parrots her sister’s requests.
“Fine, just remember we said we’d pick Jamie up from Leo’s on the way home, so that means we have to drive around with that thing on top.” Ally pulls on his shirt again, this time trying to get him to come on Daddy, I’m hungry. “Okay, okay I’m coming.”
Leaving Ben to organize the tree, Alex takes the girls over the road to Melinda’s bakery and cafe. A small hand-written card on the corner table says RESERVED BEN & ALEX so he steers the stroller in that direction. Lucy’s eyes widen to comic proportions as she looks around. Tinsel and lights hang from every possible hook and handle. The top of the cake cabinet is now home to a plushie Santa, his sleigh, and three reindeer, one who which has a bright red nose. In the opposite corner is a small, artificial tree surrounded by brightly wrapped boxes.
“Daddy. Out. Out!” Lucy squirms, trying to wriggle free. He unbuckles the harness and swings her up onto his hip. She makes grabby hands motions toward the Santa display. “Santa.”
Melinda appears and takes Ally to choose cake, waving aside Alex’s reminder that she has to have something healthy too. Ally’s complaints about how much he likes green stuff drift out to him as she follows Melinda. He orders coffee for himself and Ben along with chicken salad sandwiches. A small dish of macaroni for Lucy. Turns to coax Lucy into sitting down instead of trying to clamber up the side of the cabinet to inspect the reindeer. He’s still battling with her when he sees Ben pull up outside – without a tree.
“Before you say anything,” Ben holds his hand up as he walks into the café, “I arranged for them to deliver it this afternoon, around three.”
“It wouldn’t fit on the car would it?”
“This way we don’t have to drive around with it.”
“It wouldn’t fit on the car would it?” As much as he’d like to be annoyed, Alex can’t help smiling. Ben sighs.
“No. But hey this is better anyway, since we have to pick up Jamie.”
“You’re an idiot.” Alex grabs Lucy who is trying to climb on the table and sits her on his knee and kisses her head.
“Idiot,” she parrots happily, kicking his legs with her heels.
Ben looks pained. “Really?”
♦ ♦ ♦
The tree is too big to fit through the front door. If that’s not bad enough, Jamie is almost rolling on the floor with laughter at the predicament. Somehow, Ben has to get that damned tree around the house to the French doors by the courtyard. The problem is that they won’t be able to get down the side of the house that leads to his office. That means going around the garage, out onto the beach and up the path. If they do that, the chances of being seen by Alex who is due home from his run any second now are really good. He’s most likely on the last stretch of beach leading to the house as it is. And if Alex learns that Ben couldn’t get the tree in the house, he is never going to let him forget it.
Ben squints at Jamie. “You might want to consider who pays your allowance kid.”
“Dad is going to pitch a fit if he comes home and that things on the doorstep.” Jamie leans against the door jamb and grins. “You’ll have to bring it through the courtyard.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
From the depths of the living room where she’s stacking blocks, Lucy calls out “No shit, shlock.” Ben groans. If Alex hears Lucy use that word again today, the damned Christmas tree will be the least of his problems. He glares at Jamie who is failing to get his laughter under control.
The guy from the Christmas Tree lot clears his throat. “Buddy, we still have deliveries to do. Where are we putting this thing?”
“Follow me.” There’s no point delaying it any longer. He leads them around the house, past the garage and down onto the beach just as Alex jogs up to the path. He tugs his hair free of the ponytail he wears when running, puzzled amusement spreading across his face.
“Do I want to know?” he asks.
“Everything is under control.” Ben trudges through the soft sand toward the path. Pushing toys and chairs aside he clears a track for the delivery guys. He can see Jamie already unlocking the French doors with Lucy clinging to his leg as usual.
It takes them twenty minutes of maneuvering and rearranging furniture to get the tree into the living room, into the barrel, and at last upright. Ben tips the guys, waves goodbye, and drags his hand through is hair. Oh God he needs a drink.
“Papa can we decorate it now? Can we? Can we?” Ally jumps up and down on the spot, eyes bright with excitement. Most of the decorations had been smashed yesterday so they’d had to buy new ones – an even more challenging exercise than finding a tree. They’d had to just take what they could find which meant a mixture of styles and shapes and if the tree isn’t going to be chic, Ben’s certain it’s going to be colorful. Before he can answer, Alex appears from the kitchen with the bags of decorations.
“Why don’t you and Jamie get the decorations out of the boxes and get them ready while Papa catches his breath. Moving Christmas trees is a big job.”
“But Papa di-” Ally begins only to be cut off by Jamie suggesting they group things in colors.
Grateful, Ben follows Alex to the kitchen and accepts the beer he offers him.
“Wouldn’t fit through the front door would it?” Alex lifts himself onto the kitchen counter and opens his beer. To buy time while he thinks of some reason for taking the tree around the side of the house, Ben sips his own drink and admires the muscles in Alex’s legs.
“Stop drooling over my calves. It wouldn’t fit through the door would it?” Alex smirks and holds his hand out. Ben takes it and steps between his legs with an embarrassed smile.
“No,” he admits and leans his head
on Alex’s chest. “I know, I know. You told me it was too big.”
A soft chuckle rumbles through Alex’s chest. Ben closes his eyes and sinks into the warm embrace. He’s about to suggest they order something in for dinner while they decorate the tree when there’s a shriek from the other room.
“What the hell?” As he shifts to go and see what’s happening, Ally runs into the kitchen, eyes wide, followed by Bart.
“Bart peed on the Christmas tree papa. Jamie wants the paper towels.”
Before either he or Alex can move, Jamie appears, holding Lucy at arm’s length. Her hands are, Ben realizes with a sinking heart, wet. Could today get any worse? Behind him, Alex begins to laugh and slides down off the bench.
“You take care of Lucy, I’ll go clean up the pee.” Still laughing he pushes Bart outside and starts filling a bucket with water.
Sighing, Ben takes Lucy from Jamie and sits her on the bench to wash her hands. She babbles contentedly in his ear about “Ba’at” and “tree” and “tinkle” and he can’t help but smile at her. Alex returns, having mopped the floor by the tree, and take the bucket to the laundry room to empty. Finally, order seems to have been restored and they all return to the now disinfectant scented Christmas Tree.
“Okay troops,” he says, some of his good humor restored, “let’s decorate this tree.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Alex looks up from wiping down the table after dinner to see Ben dragging the old plastic playpen they used to use for the girls in from outside. They haven’t used it since Lucy got big enough to simply climb out and haven’t yet gotten around to finding it a new home. He raises an eyebrow.
“Pee protector. Better this than the presents.”
It’s a good idea but Alex eyes it with reservation anyway. A layer of sand and dust cling to it and a cobweb floats behind it as Ben moves. God knows what’s made a home in that thing. He tosses a cloth in Ben’s direction, it hits the playpen and lands on the floor with a splat.
The Night Before Christmas: A collection of four short Christmas Eve stories Page 4