Home for the Holidays: Mr Frosty Pants, Mr Naughty List

by Leta Blake

  “What? Doughnuts are totally a healthy breakfast,” Casey said with a smile.

  Joel went back to frying up more strips of bacon and ignoring Bruno’s drops of drool as they landed on his bare feet. The mobile home was toasty warm, which was good, since the weather had dropped well below freezing overnight.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Joel asked. “Are you going to call them?”

  “I’ll call them,” Casey said, but the joviality was stripped from his voice, and his shoulders sagged a little. “I guess I’d better do it now.”

  Joel’s breath came in a little faster. “What are you going to tell them?”

  “You’ll see.”

  As Joel plated the eggs and bacon, Casey found his phone and frowned at the touchscreen. “There sure are plenty of texts from Mom and Aunt Courtney.”

  Joel didn’t know if he was supposed to ask what they said or not, so he didn’t.

  “Okay. Here goes,” Casey murmured, placing the call. “Hey, Mom. I’m okay. I’m with Joel.”

  He almost wished he could hear Mrs. Stevens’s side of the conversation, but most of him knew that would be a terrible idea. He couldn’t quite let go of the things he’d heard Jonathan Stevens say the night before, so he didn’t need to add to them. He shook some pepper over the eggs on both plates and then carried them to the table.

  “I understand that,” Casey said archly. “Dad says a lot of things he doesn’t mean when he’s upset, but I think he meant a lot of what he said too.” He paused while his mother spoke. “I don’t think so, Mom. I don’t want to be there today. I’m sorry, but no.”

  Joel put the plate in front of Casey and took a seat across from him. Part of him wanted to tell Casey to forget everything, to go home. But part of him wanted to keep Casey close, to have this holiday together and seize everything he could for a few more days. Maybe then he’d have the strength to send Casey back home to his parents, who would surely accept his apology and pay for his return to NYU.

  What was a fling with a guy from the wrong side of the lake in the scheme of life? They’d forgive Casey for that, wouldn’t they? And he’d have a beautiful memory of the time he and Casey had had together. His stomach knotted up, and he could barely swallow the bite of bacon he’d taken.

  “That’s just it, Mom. This isn’t about you and what you want. It’s not about what Dad wants either. This is my life. And after a long time of trying to do things the way dad wants me to do them and not being happy? I’m done. I’ll do the rest of my life my way.”

  Casey pushed his uneaten plate of food back and stood, pacing by the table. Joel couldn’t eat either. He wished Casey hadn’t taken his new package of cigarettes and hidden them at some point, because he sure could use one right now.

  “Crying won’t change this, Mom. If you’re upset, I’m not the one to talk to. Talk to Dad. So long as the man I love isn’t welcome in your house, then I don’t consider myself welcome either.”

  Joel shook his head, wanting to stop Casey from making these declarations, but it was done, and he couldn’t shove the words back into Casey’s mouth now.

  “Find a way to enjoy your day,” Casey said more gently. “Hang out with Aunt Courtney. Have a merry Christmas. It’s going to be okay, Mom.” He rubbed his face and shook his head. “I don’t know what to say about the presents. I guess if Dad’s not going to continue to pay for my school or my apartment, then he probably won’t want me to have whatever’s under the tree either.” He laughed bitterly. “No, I’m not being a brat, Mom. I’m being myself. It’s a new thing, and I know you’ll probably find it surprising, but I’m done minimizing who I am to make things easier. And I won’t minimize who I love. Ever.”

  Joel pushed the eggs around with his fork. They looked rubbery already. It was a shame to waste good food since he so rarely had the money for things like eggs and bacon, but he couldn’t possibly chew it up now. Not with the tension rolling off Casey like steam from a train. He scraped most of it off for Bruno who ate it with delight.

  “Fine. Tell Aunt Courtney I’m sorry. And I’ll stop over tomorrow to get my things and then, sometime before I’m supposed to drive back to New York, we can schedule a time to talk as a family about whether or not that’s even going to happen now.”

  His lower lip trembled a little at whatever his mother had to say. “I know, Mom. I love you too. And it really will be okay. One way or another. I promise.”

  Then he disconnected the phone and wiped a hand over his face again. The light that’d been in his eyes when they woke had died.

  “So?”

  “I’m spending Christmas with you. Hope that’s okay.”

  Joel cleared his throat, trying to come up with the right response.

  “Please tell me you aren’t thinking I should apologize to them, throw you under the bus, and grovel at their feet,” Casey said, frowning into his coffee cup before grabbing another doughnut and ignoring the now-cold bacon and eggs completely.

  “Aren’t you thinking that?”

  “No. Not even a little.” He glanced up at Joel sharply. “I’m thinking that we’ll have a great Christmas here. You, me, and Bruno.”

  “I’m not seeing the problem with that.” Joel smiled, though his stomach still hadn’t loosened up. He wished he could tell Casey’s father where he could go stick his bullshit.

  Bruno pranced by Casey, hoping for his uneaten food. But Casey stared off into space, his expression falling through several phases of emotion, starting with optimism and ending with a gloomy despair that Joel knew all too well.

  “I have a little money put aside,” Casey said. “I was saving it for travel after I graduate, like we talked about before, but I can use it to pay for tuition at UT and keep us in groceries for a little while. It won’t last long, though. So, I’ll need a job. At least my car is paid for and in my name.”

  Joel picked up a strip of cold bacon from Casey’s plate and chewed it slowly. He didn’t have an answer to the money problem, no way to soothe Casey or bring him down for a gentle landing. If he chose this path, he’d land hard, and that was all there was to it.

  “You should go home,” he finally murmured as the silence stretched on. “You’ve got too much to lose. I’m not worth it.”

  “Fuck that.” Casey sat up straighter. “Other people do this all the time. Their parents kick them out or give up on them, and they make it work. They get jobs and figure their shit out. I’ll do the same.”

  “Casey…”

  “Joel. Stop. I’m not going to break things off with you just because my parents told me to, okay? That’s not happening.”

  “Stubborn.”

  “So what? I’m right. They’re wrong.”

  “They’re the ones with the purse strings. I don’t want this for you.”

  “You said that yesterday. Let’s not have the same fight.” Casey’s lips quirked. “Unless you want it to end the same way?”

  “With your dick up my ass?”

  Casey smiled, his eyes dilating slightly and darting down to Joel’s mouth.

  “You don’t seem that upset,” Joel commented. He kept waiting for Casey to lose his shit and start bawling and sobbing. But he didn’t seem likely to break even a little bit. Was this the stubborn surety that had let Casey go to New York and not contact Joel for nearly four years?

  “I’m upset.” Casey’s brows creased. “I’m hurt, but I’m not surprised. Dad did basically the same thing when I came out to him. Said he wasn’t going to pay for NYU, said he’d cut me off.” Casey rolled his eyes. “He said all kinds of things he didn’t mean. At least, he didn’t mean them for more than a few days. But it still sucked flying off to start school without knowing if he was really going to jerk my funding or turn his back on me. Mom told me not to worry back then, and she was right. He came around.”

  “What if he doesn’t come around this time?”

  Casey’s eyes tightened at the edges. “I almost don’t want him to. I’d almost like to see
what it would be like if he didn’t. I believe in us, Joel. And I believe in myself.” He lifted his chin. “I have what amounts to a degree from NYU in marketing and branding. I have talent, and I’m good at what I want to do. Once I finish up at UT, I could get some references from my professors, both in New York and here, and I could start hunting for starter positions.” He shrugged. “Sure, it’d be easier to achieve my dream with my dad’s help and support. I’d be able to start my own firm if I wanted to, focus on the mom-and-pop stores, local products, and artists. But I never wanted my own firm to begin with, and he was never going to support me in that anyway. He wanted me to go to Wharton. He wanted me to come aboard at his company. So what if we’ve sped up the inevitable? It’s better than living under his thumb and giving up what’s most important to me to satisfy his idea of who I am. Who he wants me to be.” He thrust up his chin again. “Let him see how strong we can be together.”

  Joel wished he believed the way Casey did. He’d do anything for an ounce of Casey’s certainty. But when he looked into a future where Casey moved in with him and gave up his family, their money, and his degree, all Joel could see was struggle and poverty—and the fire of conviction going out in Casey’s eyes.

  “My father doesn’t get it, and everything he said to me last night only made me more sure,” Casey went on. “Every objection he raised? Just made me more certain that I could never live in the future he envisions for me. Never, ever.”

  “I get that, but you don’t have to decide now.”

  “I’ve already decided. Or don’t you want me here with you? You get a choice too, Joel. If you don’t want me, you should say so now.” Hurt tinged his voice.

  “I don’t have to decide now either,” Joel said quickly. “Let’s not fight on Christmas. Let’s just enjoy the day the best we can and see what the future brings.”

  It wasn’t his usual way to brush reality under the rug, but he was willing to do it now. If Casey wasn’t eager to go home, then Joel was going to milk this time together while he could. But he wasn’t ready for the man he loved to throw over his entire life to live in poverty, running on caffeine and dreams, either.

  As Joel stood to put his somehow-empty dish in the sink, a new thought crossed his mind. Maybe Casey wouldn’t go running to his parents, but Joel could. Not today, necessarily, but if things didn’t right themselves soon… It wasn’t like Joel had nothing to say to Jonathan Stevens.

  “I’ve got to get to the nursing home.” Joel swallowed hard. “I’d ask you to come, because I’m not ashamed of you or what we’re doing.” He dumped his coffee down the drain. “But if you think last night was a shit show? Bringing you into my dad’s nursing home room on Christmas Day would probably result in him stroking out.” He shrugged, turning toward Casey and catching his sad eyes. “So, unless you want a death on your conscience today…”

  “That’s all right. I get it.” Casey smiled. “I have things I can do here. If I can borrow your laptop, that is.”

  “Sure. It’s not nice like yours, but…”

  Casey stood up and gathered Joel close. Joel buried his nose in Casey’s neck and took long, deep breaths. He pushed Casey back and murmured, “I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time. I’ll clean up the kitchen. Can I feed Bruno the leftovers?”

  “The eggs, yeah. But keep the rest of the bacon. We’ll want that later.” Joel moved away to grab his coat, thinking about the day ahead and their lack of any ingredients for a suitable Christmas dinner. He flipped the collar up as he tugged it on, nerves about his visit to his father clawing at his gut.

  “You’re hot when you do that,” Casey said, raising a brow and stepping closer. He licked his lips, and his wet mouth glistened in the morning light through the mobile home’s kitchen windows. He mimicked flipping up a collar and grinned. “Mysterious and sexy.”

  “I try,” Joel snarked.

  “When you get back, I’m going to show you how hot you are. For hours.”

  “Don’t have to twist my arm,” he whispered, grabbing for his keys as Casey drew closer again, tempting with his warm body and acres of exposed skin. Joel took a deep breath. “Later, do you want me to try? You know, the other way? Where I do it to you?”

  “If you want to, sure.”

  Joel frowned, his stomach balling up. He didn’t know why he didn’t want to do it to Casey, but he just didn’t. He shrugged. “Okay, if you want me to, I will.”

  Casey rolled his eyes. “I already told you. I like to be on top, so if you don’t want to switch, we don’t have to.”

  Relief punched through him, and he took Casey’s chin in his fingers before going up on his toes and kissing him hard. Casey moved in closer, pressing his tongue into Joel’s mouth and slipping his hand down toward Joel’s crotch.

  “I have to go,” Joel muttered as his dick fattened up fast and traitorously in his pants. “I’ll see you later.”

  Casey released him with so much reluctance that Joel nearly gave in and dropped to his knees to suck him off. But he stopped by the Christmas tree and pulled out one of only a few gifts he’d tucked underneath it the prior afternoon.

  It may not have been time for Casey to move on from his family, but, like he’d realized the night before after leaving Casey’s folks’ house, it was past time he made a clean break from his own. His stomach churned, and he wanted to turn back to Casey and tell him what he was about to do, let Casey take him in his arms and hold him until Joel stopped stupidly shaking.

  But no. It was his dad, and he could do this. Casey would be waiting when he got back.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Hey, Pop.” Joel entered his father’s room without an Egg McMuffin as usual. Even the local McDonald’s franchise allowed its employees the day off. He held out the present he had for his father instead. “Merry Christmas.”

  Charlie, as Joel had decided to think of him from now on, glared at him from the bed. “I hoped you wouldn’t bother showing your face today after the crap you’ve pulled this week.” He didn’t reach out for the present, content to glare and sneer.

  “Funny, I almost didn’t come.” Joel put the gift on his father’s nightstand and shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t bother pointing out that Charlie had been the real monster this week, abusive and humiliating. He just said, “Go ahead and open it.”

  Slowly, Charlie reached for the present like it might bite him. “What’s in it?”

  “The last thing you’re getting from me,” Joel said easily, like it didn’t pull hard at his insides to speak the words he should have said when he turned eighteen. “So, I hope you enjoy it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Charlie’s fingers stilled in the ripping of the wrapping paper, his weak eyes narrowing into another glare.

  “It means I’ve already let you have too much.”

  Charlie stared at him like he didn’t understand before turning his attention back to the gift. He opened it and pulled out a framed photo. It was a picture of the outside of Vreeland’s Home and Garden, done up for the holidays and dated on the bottom as the year before Joel’s mother had passed away.

  “I found it in some boxes when I was looking for the tree ornaments. I thought you might want it.”

  His father sneered. “Why would I want a crummy picture of a place that stole the best years of my life?”

  Joel felt the wound open, but he thought of Casey’s stubbornness, closed his eyes, and stitched it back up with his own determination and will.

  When he looked at Charlie again, he said calmly, “It’s a thank you, in a way. Vreeland’s is the best thing you ever did for me. It may not be my dream career, but it’s going to be my way to my dream.”

  He’d realized the night before during his brief discussion with Courtney that he didn’t have to stay at Vreeland’s forever. He could sell the place to someone who could love it and use the proceeds, slim as they might be, to start on the log cabin or, hell, to live on while he wrote more books.


  He didn’t have to remain at Vreeland’s unless he wanted to. And right now, he did want to. But the job had an escape hatch. One that he could use when or if the time came. That realization had opened the world up for him, relieving the trapped sensation he’d been stuck in for so long.

  “Your dream? More faggy talk already?” Charlie tossed the photo onto the bed. It nearly slid off to the floor, but he made no move to catch it. Joel didn’t either.

  Joel walked around the room, going to every photo of his mother and taking a snap with his phone.

  “What are you doing?” his father asked stiffly.

  He didn’t bother giving him an answer. Talking never did any good with Charlie, and it wasn’t going to do any good now. Besides, this wasn’t a threat or a negotiation. He’d made up his mind, and there was no discussion, pleasant or abusive, that was going to talk him out of it.

  Maybe he understood where Casey was coming from with his father more than he wanted to admit.

  “Goodbye, Pop,” Joel said gently, calling him by that name one last time. He came to stand near him, but out of cuffing range. “I won’t be back again. You’ll need to eat the breakfast food they serve you from now on.”

  “What?” Charlie’s face reddened incredulously. “You’re going to leave me here alone? To rot?”

  “You’re not alone, and you won’t rot. You’ve got the nurses, and they’ll take care of you.”

  He took a step back, his heart twisting in his chest and adrenaline screaming through him. Was he really doing this? Did he dare? Was he allowed? Would he be able to stick to it later without drowning in guilt?

  “Just because you’re my father doesn’t mean I have to take your abuse. I watched someone I care about stand up for himself and for me today in a way I never expected. It’s about time I do the same.” He lifted his chin. “I’m gay.”

  Charlie stared at him, mouth open, his face growing purple.