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

by Leta Blake

  “I’m not.”

  “You are. Do you need me to smack your ass to remind you that you’re not the one in control here?”

  “Right. You are.”

  “Nope. Not even me.” RJ smiled. “Though it’s a fun game in the bedroom, and I’m honored that you trust—love—me enough to let me do whatever I want to your body.” He flushed. “What we both want. But even I’m not actually in control, Aaron. I have no idea what tour I might get signed on to. I don’t even know if it will be country music, or rock, or jazz, or what. I just go. Where they say. When they say. I surrender and roll with the punches, and sometimes it sucks, and it’s tiring and hard, and sometimes it’s glorious and fun. And there are those Montmartre sunsets to offset the hardship.” He shrugged. “And other times, there are lovers overdosed on bathroom floors.”

  Aaron winced, reaching for RJ’s hand.

  “No one is in control. Not you. Not me. Not Santa Claus.” He nodded toward the church. “Despite being a Christian, I’m not even willing to say that Baby Jesus has his hands on the reins. What I do know is you have to learn to ride the horse without fighting the gallop. Loose body, loose knees, take those jumps and roll with the beast. Sure, sometimes the horse just walks along the stream and you get a break, right? That’s nice when that happens. But that’s not life. That’s a metaphor. Look at me, Mr. Danvers. I learned that from you.”

  Aaron stared at him, the light from the city Christmas lights spackling the car window behind him. “RJ, I don’t know if I can live that way, but I want to try. I’ve always been, like you said, prissy. I’ve always had things ‘just so,’ but I want to see what happens if I let go.”

  “I know you can handle it, Mr. Danvers,” RJ said roughly. “Have you ever seen yourself take a spanking? Because if you had, you’d know you can handle anything that comes to you.”

  They kissed, the windows fogging up with their breath. “I’m so glad you’re my Christmas lover,” RJ murmured.

  “Not just for Christmas.”

  “No. My lover-lover.”

  They kissed more, their mouths growing sensitive and tender. The winter night blew cool outside, but it grew even hotter in the car.

  RJ whispered, “Let’s go inside. There’s something I want to show you.”

  Twenty minutes later, Aaron was ass-up over his dining table.

  He wasn’t sure about this idea. Everything he’d ever taught his kids said that letting yourself be filmed naked, cock hard and a small plug in your hole, was a terrible idea. The video could be uploaded, forwarded, sent anywhere. Lauren would lose her mind if she knew what he was letting RJ do.

  But he trusted RJ.

  And RJ said he wanted Aaron to see.

  “Ready, lover,” RJ asked in his ear, smoothing his hands over Aaron’s back and shoulders. “Keep your head this direction. I want the camera to pick up every expression. I don’t want you to miss your surrender.”

  Aaron’s breath came in harsh, wretched pants, and he nodded. After all he’d been through with his mother today, he felt close to lifting out of his skin as it was. He hoped RJ was right that this was a spanking he could handle.

  “Relax.”

  “I can’t.”

  RJ massaged his arms and his back, his big, strong, warm hands rubbing up and down, then parting his ass cheeks to slip fingers up and down his crack. “There,” RJ murmured when Aaron finally unclenched his hands and loosened up on the table. “Perfect.”

  Aaron stared at the iPhone set up to record this encounter. He should say Hermey. He should call this off and erase the file. He shouldn’t let this happen. His mother would be horrified if the video got out. What if someone hacked RJ’s phone, what if he left it behind somewhere, what if…

  “You’re thinking too much,” RJ said, dropping a kiss to Aaron’s shoulder blade. “I’m going to help that go away now. All of it. The worry. The fear. The anxiety. Fly away.”

  Aaron shivered and kept his eyes trained on the iPhone camera lens. “What are you waiting for?” he gritted out.

  “Oh, Mr. Danvers, you’re so naughty. What a thing to ask.”

  And then it began.

  RJ used a long, thin black belt he’d taken from Aaron’s closet, and the snap of it over Aaron’s ass was instantly shocking and scary. When it hit the base of the plug, the jolt to his prostate was ecstasy. He shifted, but RJ put his hands on the other side of the table again and told him to hold still.

  “Eyes on the camera,” RJ said again. “Don’t look away.”

  Aaron tried to obey, but the fire burning into his haunches, sinking deep beneath his skin and into his bones, was so strong that he had to clench his teeth and squeeze his eyes closed to keep from screaming. RJ backed off and rubbed a hand over the blazing pain of his ass cheeks and hips.

  “Beautiful. But you need to let it out, Aaron.”

  “I’m tired of crying.”

  “Let it out,” RJ said again, the dominance as firm as his hand on Aaron’s ass.

  Aaron guessed that RJ had decided not to give him any choice. Because the next layer of slaps the belt laid down were harder, and Aaron crumbled under them. He shook and squirmed and finally shouted, his body convulsing in pain as harsh, broken sobs burst forth, and the tears ran free again.

  He hadn’t thought he had more in him, but as RJ continued to lay on the stripes, the shame, guilt, horror, and sadness of what he’d lost—of what he’d never had—forced its way out of his mouth and leaked from his eyes and snotted from his nose.

  It wasn’t pretty. He didn’t feel pretty. He felt raw, completely stripped down, and honest.

  “That’s so good,” RJ said, easing off the spanking. “I think you’ve needed all this for a long time now.”

  Aaron sobbed as RJ lifted him from the table, kissed his lips, and held him close. His cock throbbed urgently, and he wished he could come and obliterate this intense, broken-hearted sorrow inside. But he felt too far away from himself, too outside his body to reach orgasm, and almost certain that he couldn’t even if RJ tried to make him.

  “Let’s go back to your room now,” RJ whispered. “I think tomorrow, when you see what we did, you’ll understand. You’re already free, baby.”

  Aaron couldn’t fully comprehend what RJ meant. His body was a livewire of pain, but he hobbled back to the bedroom with RJ’s arms around him. Under RJ’s tender care, he flashed back in his mind to the last time he’d let a trucker fuck him. Hot, grimy, against the side of a wall near the end of an alley.

  He thought of being bent over Coach McAllister’s desk taking his veiny cock. He thought of the men he’d let spank him, just a swat or two, and then fuck his mouth. And he started to cry again. Not in shame, but in sheer sadness. He could have had this. He could have had RJ. Or something like it.

  He could have been loved all along.

  In the morning, bleary-eyed and snuggling, RJ asked Aaron if he wanted to watch the video.

  Aaron tensed, for only for a few heartbeats. He exhaled and said, “Later.”

  RJ wasn’t sure if Aaron would really need to see it—maybe the act of filming it was enough. It was Aaron’s call. RJ kissed him deeply as the sun rose, gleaming off the church spire through the window.

  Nuzzling RJ’s neck, Aaron whispered, “Next Christmas, can we play Santa and elf again?”

  RJ’s heart lifted, his joy at hearing the question asked so easily, the assumption of their togetherness in a year so clear. “Yeah, but we can play that game any time you want, baby. You’re always on my naughty list.” RJ kissed him, and the wonder of holding the man of his dreams in his arms hit him all over again. “You’re my Christmas dream-come-true, Aaron.”

  Aaron’s dimples were on display, a fever in his eyes. “Thank you for asking me if I’d been stood up.”

  “Thank you for staying to talk.”

  “Thank you for fucking me.”

  “Thank—” RJ laughed as Aaron grinned. “Thank you for making me believe that love is worth try
ing to make last. For making me believe that it will last. With you.”

  Aaron pulled RJ down on top of him again, spread his legs, and whispered, “Fuck me, Santa. Fuck your bad elf and show him how you do it.”

  RJ laughed. “Damn, Mr. Danvers. Santa Claus is at your service.”

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  Scruffy City Hall was all done up for Christmas again. Silver and gold stars hung alongside tinsel garlands, draping from the ceiling, and colored lights wound around the banister of the upper level and all around the stage. A decorated tree or two brightened the stage and the corner by the bathrooms. The band played a tight Christmas set that inspired drunken sing-alongs, raucous dancing, and vigorous shaking of the plastic tambourines that had been tossed out into the audience. There was no doubt that the show was another success.

  Leaning against a wall where he could easily see the stage, Aaron nursed his whiskey, training his gaze on the delicious man playing lead guitar. Reindeer antlers and tinsel garland bracelets be damned, RJ was as hot as ever.

  Aaron’s nipples tingled and his dick rushed with blood. It never got old seeing his lover onstage. As they’d traveled together, he’d watched RJ play to massive crowds in London and L.A., and he’d watched him play to small theaters in Nashville and Berlin. But every single time he ended up hard and horny, aching for RJ’s touch and hungry for RJ’s cock.

  It was nearly Pavlovian.

  Luckily, RJ felt the same way most nights, leaving the stage flushed and racing with adrenaline. Aaron was an eager recipient of all of that energy. He could never get enough.

  As the rollicking version of “Marshmallow World” wound down, RJ cleared his throat and wiped the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead. He peered through the lights, out into the crowd, and finding Aaron easily, he smiled. Then he cleared his throat.

  “Y’all having fun tonight?”

  The crowd banged tables and stomped their feet, whooping with delight.

  “Good. That’s good.” He fiddled with the tuning of his guitar before bending down to get a capo before clamping it over the fretboard. He glanced over his shoulder at Joel and Becca, and then over at Madison on piano. “It’s good to have the old gang back together again. I’ve been away for a long time, but there’s nothing like being home for the holidays.”

  Cheers went up and Aaron sipped his whiskey again, enjoying the way RJ worked the room.

  “Don’t get me wrong. It’s been a fun two years. Really fun. I made some music, put it up on Spotify, and some of you listened to it.”

  More shouts and shimmers of tambourines.

  “Yeah. That was cool.” He noodled a little on his guitar. “And I went with some good bands on a few tours. That was neat. Traveled a lot, which can be tiring, but this time I was with someone I love. So that was cool, too.”

  The crowd cheered, though Aaron had to laugh. Cool was a bit of an understatement. He and RJ had traveled the world. First as part of a tour with a rock group, and then with a female-led country band. The latter had taken their young families on tour with them, and Aaron had been hired to be the kids’ teacher. In fact, the band was going out again in the spring to support a new album, and Aaron and RJ would be going with them.

  Constance was able to go with them on the US legs of the tours. It turned out she traveled well, and Aaron preferred to keep her close. When they went abroad, though, Constance stayed with his cousin Dem Buns in Aaron’s apartment. Dem Buns—well, Frank, as he preferred to be called for obvious reasons—was getting his Bachelor’s Degree from U.T., so taking care of Aaron’s apartment and cat was a good way for him to keep costs down.

  Aaron and RJ had been home only five times since they’d first left, and only for a few days at a time. Aaron hadn’t talked to his mother since his final text with her (she had kept the casserole dish), and he’d spent his first holidays without her quite happily, going between his dad’s place and RJ’s folks’ house. Doug and Betsy were as in love as ever, and possibly trying for another kid, if the hints dropped during FaceTime calls were any indication. Carter had thankfully moved on from his crush on RJ and now had a boyfriend his own age. A sweet little guy with glasses and a mop of curls. Aaron thought they were adorable together.

  Still, this trip was their first visit back to Knoxville that had lasted long enough to catch their breath and make some plans. RJ had made the most of it, rehearsing and playing more Christmas shows, and making another batch of songs to upload to Spotify. Aaron had sorted out the details of their next tour and put his grandmother’s Sapphire Regal up along with a host of Christmas decorations. He’d really nested in cozily and enjoyed the downtime, making everything in the apartment “just so” for both of them. Yes, Aaron loved the time off, but he also adored their whirlwind life together.

  He’d never imagined he could be so free.

  “But this next year…” RJ gave a smirky grin, nailing Aaron with his gaze. He put his guitar on the stand and wiped his palms on his jeans. “I was thinking about a way it could be even more fun.”

  Aaron blinked. Whatever RJ was talking about was news to him. More fun? Had he already booked another tour for the second half of the year?

  “Aaron?”

  Aaron straightened up and stared at RJ, sweat slipping down the back of his neck. When would he stop wearing sports jackets to these shows? He always got too hot.

  “Come up here.”

  Aaron blinked at him, but when the crowd started shifting restlessly, looking his way, he did as he was ordered, his heart pounding and his head awhirl. Was this…? Could RJ…? No. That was…he wouldn’t. Would he?

  When he reached the stage, RJ tugged him up next to him. “This is Aaron. He’s my lover,” he announced to the crowd to a mix of very vocal reactions, though it was mostly positive. A few girls looked disappointed. “We started out as a Christmas fling, but you know how those tend to end, right? It’s either true love or tears. No other way out of a Christmas fling.”

  The crowd yelled and laughed. Aaron laughed, too, but his heart was beating so fast that he sounded giddy.

  RJ squeezed Aaron closer, sweat glistening on his exposed collarbones above the wide neck of his T-shirt. “I told Aaron once that if we wanted to last as lovers, then we had to act like we’d last forever. Remember?”

  Aaron nodded, his throat going tight. Oh, wow. Was this…?

  “Because love is trust,” RJ said to the audience, with a sly smile cast toward his mother who now stood with Doug in the front row. Where had they come from? Oh, wow. There was his dad, too. Oh, God, this was really happening. “So we did. We acted like we’d last, and now it’s been two years”—more cheers from the audience—“and I love him more than ever.”

  The room echoed with screams at that proclamation.

  “He loves me, too,” RJ said, looking down at Aaron, and his eyes were soft with affection. “I know because he gives me everything he has, all the time, every time. I’m lucky. You should all be as lucky as me.”

  Aaron eyes burned with tears, and he opened his mouth to speak, but RJ shook his head and put his finger on Aaron’s lips.

  “I’m not done yet,” he growled gently, but he punctuated it with a smile. “Two years ago tonight a couple of assholes stood this guy up—yeah two in the space of a few hours. Ouch, right?” Aaron winced, but RJ grinned. “And I’m grateful to both of them for passing up this man every single day of my life. Also, they weren’t just assholes, they were idiots, because they missed out on the best person in the world. But I didn’t. I was smart.” His grin turned wicked. “I took him home and—”

  Laughter and cheers roared.

  RJ winked at Aaron. “And I fell in love with him. Christmas miracles and all that stuff. Being his lover has been the best thing to ever happen to me. But I’m hoping that after tonight, we won’t call ourselves just lovers anymore.” He released his hold on Aaron quickly, and Aaron’s legs went weak when RJ dropped to one knee. A shiny ring material
ized from the depths of RJ’s jeans pocket. He held it up and the Christmas lights played on the gold. The room exploded with joy and the sound of shaking tambourines. “Baby, will you make my dreams come true again tonight?”

  Aaron’s heart filled with so much joy it overflowed, and he didn’t bother wiping at his streaming eyes as he put his palms on RJ’s shoulders to steady himself. He nodded vigorously, already mouthing yes, as RJ went on, “Aaron Danvers, will you marry me?”

  “Yes, yes, yes! I will!”

  RJ rose up and tugged Aaron to his chest as the sound of tambourines and shouts of congratulations filled the air, along with a rousing clatter of piano keys as Madison added to the cacophony.

  RJ kissed him so long and deep that Aaron was panting by the time their lips broke apart. They clung together as the band started to play, and they swayed to the music. Suddenly, Aaron recognized it as Dolly Parton’s “Here You Come Again,” and he started to laugh, remembering that it had played from the Market Square skating rink that first night just after RJ had kicked out the patio chair and told him to take a seat.

  “What do you say, Mr. Danvers,” RJ said into his ear, careful that the mic didn’t pick up his words. “Now that you’re my fiancé, do you still want to pretend you’re on my naughty list tonight?”

  Aaron nuzzled RJ’s throat, pressing a kiss to the place where he felt the beat of his pulse. “I do, yes. Yes, I do.”

  “I do,” RJ repeated back, eyes warm with love. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

  THE END

  Standalone novel featuring winter holidays

  SMOKY MOUNTAIN DREAMS

  by Leta Blake

  Sometimes holding on means letting go.

  After giving up on his career as a country singer in Nashville, Christopher Ryder is happy enough performing at the Smoky Mountain Dreams theme park in Tennessee. But while his beloved Gran loves him exactly the way he is, Christopher feels painfully invisible to everyone else. Even when he’s center stage he aches for someone to see the real him.