by Joe Satoria
“I’ll make sure we’re in our pyjamas,” Gio said as Spencer’s face dropped, a tradition he hated. “Plus, I have my Christmas day light-up jumper to wear tomorrow.”
Mrs Grant smacked her lips, pawing at her own Christmas jumper. “Spence couldn’t have chosen someone more perfect, I swear, plucked by Saint Valentine’s cherub.”
Stunned. Spencer was silent, nodding as his mother paid yet another compliment to a complete fiction of his life. All he could do was smile and nod while Gio seemed to bask in the glory as if he were living the lie.
“Well, I best get myself cleaned up and hope my mother will want to go to bed,” Mrs Grant muttered off to herself as she blotted away at the table with the kitchen tissues.
As soon as Mrs Grant had left the table, Spencer released a deep breath he’d held tucked in at his chest. He shook his head at Gio who attempted to pierce the veil with a wide smile.
“I’m never doing this again,” Spencer mumbled.
“I’m doing you the favour,” Gio chuckled, unable to wipe away his smile.
“Three times,” he said.
“What?”
“Kissing me.”
“I’m selling it,” he said with a shrug. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“No, not at all, now it’ll be, where’s Giovanni, at the Christmas table every year,” he slouched down his chair, shrinking as his feet slipped under. “We should argue tomorrow.”
Gio’s smile faded. “I’m not going to ruin Christmas, have you seen how excited your mum is? I wish my parents put it up a real fir, and the decorations, what’s your vendetta against it?”
Spencer’s eyes shifted to each side. “You’ve seen my family, it’s like a bipolar weather system, ice, desert, love, hate, all under one roof, my entire life, I like the consistency of not having that.”
“The way I see it, your mum is this warm beacon and you can choose to do it for her, block everything else out, grow above it,” he offered back, this was the realest Spencer had seen him, at least since the earlier fiasco with the cheating talk. “Also, if this is how you act when you’re in a relationship, I—I—I know why you’re single.”
Spencer scoffed, kicking at his feet, pushing his chair back as he pushed himself up. “This isn’t—” he lowered his voice, “this isn’t real.”
“But your family think it is, and wasn’t your whole idea to make them see how much you’ve grown and rub it in their face?”
Spencer chewed on his tongue for a moment. It had been his initial thought when he mentioned it to his mother, but more so, he wanted to get out of coming for Christmas. He was convincing himself he had a boyfriend and how his life would change because of it—but it wouldn’t, because he was still in the same place, each year, feeling the same miserly level of pain.
“One day,” Spencer said.
“One day?”
“I’ll pretend for one day.”
“If not your mother, then for me,” Gio said, wiggling his brows.
Spencer stood, patting Gio on the shoulder. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “It’ll take all three years of drama I failed at in high school to pull this off.”
“I’ll clear this then,” Gio said.
“Perfect.” Spencer snatched the empty glass from the table. “I’ll be making another drink.”
“Can I—”
“Sure thing, babe,” he offered back in an over dramatized voice.
Gio suppressed a snicker. “That’s the level.”
Spencer grabbed the other glass on the table.
Mrs Grant had gone to bed, taking her mother upstairs with her, she was in the spare room, or the room which was formally the eldest son’s room. Mr Grant, as advised was left to sleep in the den, covered in two comforters and his head propped with a cushion.
The house was quiet again as Spencer sneaked around the kitchen, trying to make as little sound as possible, on his way to make a third drink. He had two glasses on the counter as he free poured gin into the glasses.
“Whoa,” Gio let out.
“What?”
“You said a nightcap,” he whispered back, wide eyed. “That’s a small drink.”
Spencer shrugged as he poured tonic water. “Then take a small drink.”
“Right,” he said, “do you want me to grab your bag from the car?”
“Yes, yes, please.” He finished off the tonic water, throwing the empty plastic across the kitchen to the recycling box by the backdoor—he failed, but it didn’t make much noise. Gio shook his head. “I’ll—I’ll pick it up.”
“We should go to bed,” he said. “I want to help your mum out tomorrow.”
Spencer sighed. “Fine, I’ll find some spare bedding.”
“For?”
“I’m sleeping on the floor,” he scoffed back.
Gio ignored the comment, he was more concerned with preserving Christmas morning.
Spencer followed Gio out through the kitchen and living room into the foyer, carrying the two glasses. He stood for a moment with a scowl on his face. “You better not leave.”
“I’ve had a drink, I can’t drive,” he whispered back.
“But you thought about it?”
“No, go upstairs, I’ll be right back.”
In the bedroom, Spencer was reminded of what had been waiting on the bed. The two sets of pyjamas and the near vomit inducing scenario which would’ve ensued if he’d arrived alone. He placed the glasses carefully on the bedside and tore into one of the gift-wrapped presents.
Fleece pyjamas, bright blue and covered in a white snowflake pattern.
He shrugged at them; they weren’t the worst. And he had agreed to play the part, and that meant being filled with Christmas cheer in the morning, dressed in festive pyjamas.
Spencer pulled away his t-shirt, balling it up to throw on the ground. He lifted a foot to pull at a sock and toppled over onto the bed. He pulled away the second sock before unzipping his jeans, he stood, yanking them down with his underwear, all the way to his ankles.
“Talk about a full moon,” Gio announced from behind him.
Falling to the ground with his hands cupping in a knee-jerk reaction against his cock and balls. “I’m getting changed.”
Gio planted Spencer’s bag on the ground and covered his eyes. “I didn’t know you were a naked sleeper.”
“I’m not,” he said back as his grit his teeth, pulling at the pyjamas from the bed. “Here, get changed in the bathroom.” He felt across the bed while the pyjamas covered him. “It’s—it’s—”
“Want me to get it?” Gio asked, peeking between a space in his hands.
“Just—get it.”
Gio chuckled to himself. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Door with the seashell,” he said, fumbling to get his jeans and underwear off his ankles.
In the time it took Gio to change in the bathroom, Spencer managed to get dressed and find spare bedding in the linen closet. He set out a blanket layer on the ground with a second cushioned layer from a former mattress topper.
Spencer was sat on the side of the bed when Gio came back to the room.
“You’re really going to sleep on the floor?” his immediate question as he rolled his case in behind him. “What if someone comes in and sees you.”
“It’s weird,” Spencer said. “First, you kiss me, did not consent to that by the way, so I’m trying to make sure this doesn’t become too awkward for when we go back to living together, which I hope you haven’t forgotten.”
“I think this will be a story I tell everyone.”
“Yeah, because you look like some hero,” he grumbled back.
Gio’s face creased. “No, I—”
Spencer stood. “So, I’ll be sleeping on the floor, have the bed,” he said. “I’m going to brush my teeth.” He brandished his toothbrush in front of Gio’s face.
The bathroom was sea themed and as such, the bright blue pyjamas seemed to blend in with the tiles and the pain
t. Spencer looked himself in the mirror, his eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils dilated. There was a drunken haze over his vision as he looked to himself and the mess of his hair.
“One night,” he told himself as he searched for the toothpaste.
After brushing his teeth, Spencer returned to the bedroom to see the six-foot half-Italian man laid out across the floor, his bare feet sticking out of the end of the blanket.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked in a flat tone.
Gio smiled up at him from the ground, propping his head up on the back of his hand. “It’s your bed, it’s a Christmas wish come true.”
“Get up,” he grumbled, kicking his foot.
“No, I’ll—adapt.”
“No, there’s no reason we should both suffer,” he said. “Get in the bed.”
Smiling, Gio was relieved. “Left or right?”
“I’m usually in the centre, so—”
Gio grabbed at the pillow he’d taken from the bed. “If we’re going to make this relationship work, we’ll need to make some tough decisions.”
“Right.”
“Ok,” he threw the pillow on the bed.
“No, alright, I’m on the left away from the door, you’re on the right.”
Gio shrugged, showing his large pearly white smile. “Christmas miracle.”
FIVE
Spencer Grant rarely suffered from not being able to sleep, especially after downing nearly three gin and tonics. The ability to sleep seemed to creep away from him as he drifted in and out while Giovanni had no problem.
It was sharing a bed that did it for Spencer, it had been so long since he shared a bed through the night with someone else, usually when he had a guy in his bed, they’d be gone before either of them start yawning and pawing for their duvet.
Eventually sleep came like a real Christmas miracle, but unfortunately it didn’t last, and like a Christmas disaster, Spencer woke nearly touching foreheads with Gio. It didn’t stop face-to-face; Giovanni had an arm across Spencer’s chest and a leg hooked at his knee.
“Move,” Spencer said, shoving him.
“What? What?” Gio let out, his grasp growing stronger as he pulled Spencer into his arm.
“Let—go—” he said in his attempts to wriggle.
“Come here,” he let out through his sleepy strain, pulling with far greater strength than Spencer had.
He felt it. Against his thigh, Gio’s cock was hard, pressing against him. He gyrated, letting out a moan from the back of his throat.
“Get—off—me,” Spencer pushed back harder, pushing himself loose from the side of bed with a thud.
Gio glanced over the bed with hazy sleep-filled eyes. “Spence,” his let out through a rough voice. “What are you doing?”
“Fucking rubbing one out against my leg,” he spat, consoling his elbows.
Gio smirked back. “What time is it?” he asked in a yawn.
It was still dark beyond the curtain. “Time for you to turn the other way and stop touching me,” he said, shuddering as he climbed back onto the side of the bed. “Go on.” He shooed at him with the back of his hand.
“Can’t help it,” Gio mumbled, turning over as laid away. “Everyone gets the horn after a couple drinks.”
Spencer laid to face the window, his hand moving south of his body as he touched himself outside of his pyjama bottoms. There was a faint throb against the fleece material. “No,” he mumbled, pulling at it so it pressed against the waistband.
“Lying if you say you don’t,” Gio continued just as Spencer had closed his eyes.
“What?” he grumbled.
“It’s natural,” he said. “Bet you’re hard.”
Spencer choked back on a scoff in his throat. “I’m not.”
Shuffling in the bed, Gio turned to Spencer. “I wouldn’t blame you,” he said. “You’ve got me in your bed, and—”
“Go to sleep,” he shut him off.
Gio inched closer, leaning on his elbow. “This might be my dick talking, but—”
“No,” Spencer said.
“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”
Spencer turned over in the bed, coming face-to-face with Gio again. “I’m not playing gay chicken with you.”
“You’re chicken then,” he smirked, and even in the waning haze of alcohol, Spencer still found it intoxicating to see.
“I’m gay,” Spencer said, “you’d be the chicken.”
Gio gulped back, his words becoming whispers. “Let’s see.” He reached out and took Spencer’s hand.
Spencer raised his brows, letting Gio have the hand. “What?”
With the hand, he traced it down his fleece top. He was guiding it, all the way. They stared each other out, Spencer looked to his hand every other second, wondering where it was and failing at the game he didn’t want to play.
“No,” Gio said.
“What?”
“Stop looking.”
“No.”
“You lose if you look.”
Spencer choked up. “Play this before?”
He smiled back at him, picking his chin slightly with a nod.
It felt like his hand was going down forever, slowly and gently pressed against the fleece. Spencer fought with himself to keep his eyes focused, to keep his eyes on Gio, his heart racing and the imminent slick sweat on his palms as he clammed up.
Outside the pyjama bottoms, Gio pressed Spencer’s hand against his hard cock again. It lasted a moment before Spencer panicked and pulled.
“Don’t,” Spencer said, clutching his hands to his chest. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” Gio chuckled. “You touched it now.”
Spencer’s brow creased as his face became scrunched. “No, is this how you get laid?”
He smiled at the comment. “Well, I won’t tell, you can if you want.”
Through the racing beat of his heart, Spencer shook his head and turned back around in bed. “No, I—oh, my god. I can’t believe you did that.”
He tsked his teeth. “Sorry,” he said, laying back in the bed. “I just thought it was a bit of fun. You know, the whole, you used to fancy me thing.”
“What?” Spencer spun, almost rolling out of bed. “What—no, no I didn’t.” He whacked Gio’s arm. “You’re delusional.”
“I heard you,” he said.
He whacked his hand again. “That’s your delusion of thinking everyone fancies you.”
“You said, holy fuck, I want him to bend me over the kitchen counter.”
Spencer paused, trying to deny it, the words stuck on the end of his tongue. “I—” he reached out to swot his arm again. Gio grabbed it by the wrist. “No, I—” he’d said those words less than twelve hours into living with him, trying to sus him out, he’d said it Melissa.
“I’m clearly down,” he snickered, nodding to his body sprawled out on the bed. “What’s stopping you?”
Spencer didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know what to say. No should’ve been the answer, but part of Spencer wanted it, it was the part of him who didn’t want this to have been some weird tricked you ploy.
“You’re still drunk,” Spencer said.
“I’m just—playful,” he offered back with a childish grin. “I thought you’d be into it.” He pulled at Spencer’s wrist.
He kept his hands tight to his chest. “You’re—you’re a—”
“A what?” he asked, pulling again, this time managing to yank Spencer halfway across his torso. “Come on.”
Pulled to his knees as he rested on Gio’s torso, Spencer’s eyes narrowed in a stare. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
Gio chuckled, slapping at Spencer’s knees. He grabbed at his hands, kneeling on them, while not quite so effective on memory foam and the plush duvet. Spencer reached out, pressing his hands on Gio’s shoulders, pushing him and his head further into the pillow.
“No,” Gio offered back. “I—I—” he let out, breathless. “I—I haven�
�t.”
“Come on, didn’t what?” he asked back with a nervous laugh.
Gio grabbed at Spencer’s knees, flipping him on his back, he pinned him in place on the bed, his body against him, spread between his legs. Spencer inhaled the winter mint breath from Gio’s heavy breathing.
“Well?” Spencer asked.
Gio lowered his body on Spencer’s, picking his legs up at the hips, raising him a little higher. His breathing becoming heavier as he gyrated his hips, pushing his erection down against Spencer.
Spencer closed his eyes, inhaling slowly.
Cold lips against his. A pressure pushed the lips apart as a tongue entered his mouth.
Kiss number four—with tongue.
Gio continued to grind against Spencer while their tongues played tennis, turning to wrestle as they pinned each other.
“Ok,” Spencer paused, pulling his head back and gasping for a breath.
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
Gio flashed his smile. “I thought—”
“What?” he asked, pulling his leg loose. “We can’t do this.”
“I thought you wanted to,” he said, adjusting his hard cock pressing at the pants. “I wanted to. If that’s what you were—”
Spencer shook his head. “No, it feels—” his face creased up with thoughts, hard gulping at the word, “wrong.”
“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” Gio said, panting out as he dropped to his back on the bed.
“Just because you’ve had a drink,” Spencer said, standing as he moved to the foot of the bed. “It feels wrong, yeah, I wanted to have sex with you. But, this, here—” he gestured with a hand. “Part of a dream I had for nearly a week constant, except, in that dream you weren’t in my childhood bedroom and you smelled like you instead of the hand soap from the bathroom.”
“I fucked up,” Gio said, sitting upright.
“No, I fucked up for letting you come along and—”
“I wanted to,” he added.
“No, I should’ve been firmer.”
Gio’s jaw clenched, he couldn’t look at Spencer. “I wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss you for weeks,” he said. “It was a freak thought moment at the time, but then—”