The Twelve Disasters of Christmas

by J P Sayle

  “Why have you locked the door, Joe? Come on, you’re getting as bad as Brad. I said I was sorry for being a dick and for throwing Joel in your face. My bad. You wanna spank my arse?”

  The attempt at humour had Joe’s lips twitch along with his disobedient dick. He ground his teeth together to stop the “yes” from pouring out of his mouth.

  He stepped away from the door and headed to the shower. He hoped the sound of water would drown out Stuart’s pleading. His plan was still in its infancy and required Stuart’s agreement, and that meant no sex until he’d obtained it. He really didn’t want to fall at the last hurdle. Not now.

  Joe scowled down at his traitorous cock, whispering, “That includes you, matey boy, so you can stop poking out like that. It’s not going to get you what we want.” He nudged it when it twitched in total disagreement with his demand. Turning on the shower, he prayed that he had the willpower to last.

  Fifteen minutes later, Joe carefully opened the bathroom door and strained to listen if he heard anything. He stuck out his head into the bedroom and let out a breath at finding it empty. He darted to the wardrobe, checking over his shoulder as he rummaged through his old clothes. He avoided looking at the messy bed he’d left in a hurry. He didn’t need to notice how the navy duvet was half hanging off the bed, lying on the cream carpet, making it appear as if they’d been up to more than sleeping.

  He glowered at the towel covering his hips before he let his gaze travel back to his clothes. The several new outfits hanging next to his scruffy clothes screamed “pick me.” He sidestepped, acknowledging Stuart’s rant about the state of his clothing. Instead, he picked up a ratty pair of jeans and his old black hoodie. He closed the doors firmly, ignoring the obvious differences between the old and the new clothes. He wanted to moan when he opened a drawer and pulled out a long-sleeved black T-shirt that was riddled with holes. The fact that it looked like it had been attacked by woodworm made him sigh loudly. His wet hair dripped onto his naked shoulders.

  Joe’s eyes darted to the door at the sound of feet thudding up the stairs. Joe grabbed the clothes and hugged them to his chest. He moved silently across the plush carpet. He so didn’t want to be caught in a skimpy towel with a semi-hard-on. He was about to shut the door when he caught sight of Stuart’s sad grey eyes peering around the door as he walked into the bedroom. Joe swallowed the bitter taste at the back of his throat. All the while he tried to hold on to his conviction. He shut the door.

  Cursing himself for not planning better and putting clothes in the bathroom, he dropped the towel and yanked on his underwear. He dressed quickly. He desperately tried his best not to think about how dull Stuart’s eyes had looked when he’d shut the door. His knuckles whitened as he hung on to his ripped jeans. He breathed through the urge to rip open the door and wipe that desolate look from Stuart’s face.

  He gave himself a pep talk, reminding himself firmly. This battle was so he could win the war.

  “Come on, come on, you can do this,” Joe whispered repeatedly. Unclenching his hands, he finished dressing, praying Stuart would leave before he left the bathroom. He checked his wristwatch, noting it was still a little early for Stuart to be going to work.

  Joe perched on the edge of the bathtub, chewing his lip. He regretted he’d left his phone by the bedside. He looked about for something to do. He got up, opened the small cupboard under the sink, and pulled out the cleaning stuff.

  I might as well make myself useful.

  He hummed as he cleaned the shower and then the sink. The scent of lemon filled the bathroom. Joe swiped at his brow with his bare forearm, having pushed his sleeves up ages ago to avoid getting them wet. Feeling the sweat sticking to his skin, he pushed his damp hair behind his ear. He stood and stretched out, giving the sparkling bathroom a once-over before exiting.

  He stood listening with his head cocked to the left. The silence had him go to the window and look out. The dark grey sky drew his attention. A tiny shiver coursed through his body at thoughts of how cold it looked outside. The winter had only just started, and already it felt never ending. The bare trees surrounding the houses in the cul-de-sac showed how harsh the weather had been. Their nakedness had him wonder when summer had started leaping straight into winter.

  Joe moved closer to the window. The heat coming off the radiator in front of his legs had his shoulders droop at Stuart’s thoughtfulness. He knew he’d purposefully left it on for him. Joe pushed his warm nose to the cold glass. It fogged, obscuring his vision for a second. When it cleared, it revealed an empty drive.

  His lips tilted down; his mood was the same. He forced himself to turn away from the window back to the messy bed. He tidied up as he needed something to take his mind off Stuart’s sad eyes.

  He grabbed the clothes off the floor where he’d left them the night before in his hurry to get in bed and pretend to be asleep. The tension between Stuart and him was starting to stretch his nerves tighter than an elastic band. He was sure at any moment they were going to ping and snap, then rebound on him in the worst possible way.

  He ignored his trembling hands at the thought of Stuart leaving him high and dry. He picked up the remaining sock and tried not think at all. Instead he attempted to recapture the pep talk he’d given to Brad about soulmates and that they wouldn’t leave them.

  Then why do I feel like Stuart is going to go running for the hills any minute?

  When he couldn’t find the answer, he gave the bedroom his full attention. The clothes in his arms forgotten, he chewed on his lip as he considered the possibilities. The navy-and-cream colour scheme was something he’d help Stuart pick when he’d moved permanently into Stuart’s bed. A bed he thought dominated the space and would be too difficult to move.

  Joe looked at the couple of large, navy leather easy chairs. Chairs they’d purchased last month in Millichap’s on their first ever shopping trip to buy furniture together. And at no point had he considered they’d be used for nefarious purposes.

  Joe chuckled.

  His mind already worked out the logistics, and he dropped the clothes he was holding. Without thought, he stepped around the mess on the floor. Going directly to the chairs, he moved them into corners of the room, next to either side of the window. His eyes lit with the possibilities that both couples, Brad and Martin, and Greg and Aaden, would get a full view of the bed and each other.

  His brain already worked a mile a minute considering where to put the cameras. He looked at the bold colourful flower paintings hanging on the walls around the room. He chewed his thumb, narrowing his eyes.

  He dropped his hand, hotfooting it down the hall. His bare feet made no noise. He went to his old bedroom and pulled out the large duffle bag from under the bed. He opened it and searched through all his spy equipment.

  A smile spread across his cheeks when he found the several small, button-sized cameras. He laid them out before searching for his pouch of tools. Piling everything into his arms, being extra careful not to damage any of it, he made his way back to the bedroom. He laid everything on the newly made bed, surveying what he’d chosen.

  As he gave the room another thoughtful look, Joe’s eyes darkened. He moved without thought to the window first. His small hands traced the cold hard edges of the plastic frame, looking for places to hide the cameras. He methodically went around the room, calculating the best angles before going back to the bed and grabbing his tools to start.

  Joe looked up, wiping his face on the sleeve of his long-sleeved black T-shirt. His hair stuck out all over the place from constantly running his hands through it. He blinked and squinted. His eyes blurred for a second before clearing. He craned his neck from his crouched position and listened. When he heard the peal of the doorbell, he realised that was what must have disturbed him in the first place.

  He straightened up and groaned when his back cricked, complaining bitterly at the sudden movement after being bent for… Joe checked his watch. He shook his head, not quite believing what he was
seeing. No way he’d been at that for five hours, surely?

  He glanced around the room, avoiding the messy lump of clothing still lying in a heap on the cream carpet. His eyes alternatively searched for the cameras he’d fitted. He whooped loudly when none were visible to the naked eye.

  I’ve still got it.

  The sound of the doorbell ringing continuously had him hurrying, even as his muscles screamed at him to take it easy. The smile never left his face as he opened the door to what could only be described as a miserable-looking Brad. The sagging shoulders, sad puppy dog eyes, and hand twisting Brad was doing was enough to make Joe pull him in for a quick hug. Hoping to cheer him up, Joe gave Brad a quick squeeze before pulling back.

  He reached for his van keys on the hall table. “Come with me. You’re gonna love this.”

  Not giving Brad a chance to answer, Joe shut the front door and dragged the glum-faced Brad to his van. He could see a glint of speculation spark to life in Brad’s eyes when he dragged him closer to the van. It had his own excitement flutter in his belly.

  He crossed his fingers as he hit the key to unlock the van, praying silently that all his hard work would pay off. Joe felt a shiver slide over his body. Goosebumps had the tiny hairs all over his body dance to attention. Joe gave the gloomy sky a fleeting thought.

  He fervently wished he’d thought to grab a jacket when he hopped inside the icebox that was his van. Joe felt his whole body judder under the icy temperature. “Quick, get in. I’m fucking freezing.” He heard his teeth chatter as he started up the computers, knowing they would heat the space quicker than turning the engine on.

  He hopped from one foot to the other, eyeing Brad’s padded navy coat. Joe found a chuckle bubbling up when Brad wrapped his arms around his body. “No way. I’m not giving you my coat.”

  Joe’s eyes danced with humour at how easy Brad had read him. “All right, but just so you know, I’ve spent hours trying to make your dreams come true today. So a little quid pro quo wouldn’t have gone amiss.” Joe smirked as he sat in his leather seat. His smirk died as the coldness from the leather had him squeal like a girl.

  Brad’s laughter rang off the metal panels of the van, making Joe’s ears ring. He shook his head. He blew on his freezing fingers before rubbing his hands together. Joe flexed and wiggled them before touching his keypad.

  “So I spent, it would seem, the best part of five hours positioning cameras around the bedroom.” As Joe spoke, his bedroom came into focus on the large computer screen in front of him. He felt Brad move closer, peering over his shoulder.

  “Wow. Look at how clear that picture is, and you can see the whole room. Oh, look, you moved your leather chairs. Ooh! That’s for us, isn’t it?”

  Brad bounced on the soles of his feet, pushing into Joe as his excited warm, cherry breath brushed across Joe’s chilled cheek.

  “Yeah. I had this idea. See, you can see the bed and the chair opposite you. So you get the full effect. The chairs are sturdy enough to take the weight of two people.” Joe felt his cheeks heat when Brad coughed and hid his smile behind his hand before turning back with eagerness to the monitor.

  “Oh, I can’t believe this is really going to happen.” His breathy whisper had Joe swivel round to face him.

  “You bet your hot arse it is. Stuart is going around with the same kicked puppy dog expression you had on your face when I opened the door. At this rate, he’ll be eating out of the palm of my hand by tonight. I plan on putting the proposition to him tonight.”

  Joe watched Brad jump on the spot, his hands fluttering at his sides.

  “Dare I ask how things are going with Martin? Have you had the courage to mention Christmas day, yet?” Joe instantly regretted asking when the light in Brad’s eyes dimmed as he gave a negative shake.

  “We haven’t spoken since I locked myself in the bedroom last night. I think he slept on the sofa. When I opened the door this morning and went to the kitchen to make breakfast, he went upstairs, showered, and dressed, then left without saying goodbye. He’s never done that before.” Brad wailed.

  Joe gave Brad a pitying look. His angelic face looked crestfallen as he fidgeted with the hem of his jacket.

  “It’s going to be fine. I promise. Just remember, sometimes you have to play them at their own game. You need to remember what a knob he was over the car. And not forgetting how many times he’s thrown the word ‘baby’ at you when referencing his car.”

  Joe raised his brow at Brad, as he continued to speak. He hoped it would make Brad get back his anger. At this rate, a resigned Brad wouldn’t last more than two minutes in the shark-infested dominant water Martin was swimming in. Joe was convinced Martin would scent Brad’s weakness in a heartbeat and attack if he couldn’t sway Brad.

  He waited a minute, watching Brad’s face as he considered what Joe had said. His small brow furrowed. His lips blew out as he huffed before finally nodding. “You’re right. I know it. But I didn’t think I’d feel like this. Half the time I don’t know if I want to throw up or kick his backside.”

  Brad’s sullenness had him move his head to face the monitor so Brad couldn’t see his merriment.

  “Don’t worry. It will pass. Now, I’ll text you when I get Stuart’s agreement later, so you can work on Martin. I spoke to Greg last night. He’s all for it. He said he’s already had words with Aaden. It seems he was none too happy with me spilling the beans. Especially if you take into account him hotfooting it over here yesterday after dropping Greg to work. Aaden explained to me, in no uncertain terms, how unhappy he is about Greg’s suggestion. Hell, he even threatened me.”

  Joe laughed at Brad’s widening eyes.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I was quite happy to point out that I hadn’t told Greg everything that had happened between us. That Aaden had asked for another round after I’d finished nailing Stuart to the floor, or should I say Aaden.” Joe shifted, shaking his head when the images wanted to take over.

  “I just pointed out that if he didn’t agree, then I could let that little bit of info slip.” Joe chuckled. “He wasn’t too pleased, but he has agreed to come with Greg after the party. I think he is secretly hoping Greg will get drunk at the party and forget all about it. But what he doesn’t know is that Greg is already wise to him. This jealousy thing he has going over anyone seeing Greg naked is laughable. It’s not like Greg is worried about it.”

  Joe stretched his legs out when his back twinged, missing the concern that flitted across Brad’s face.

  Joe looked back up and carried on talking.

  “All in all, the plan is coming together. Now all we need is Stuart and Martin to get on board with us.” Joe sucked on his lip when Brad ducked his head down, letting his blond curls hide his face.

  “Hey, what’s up? You’re not getting cold feet again, are you?” Joe gave Brad’s arm a gentle tug, pleased when he lifted up his head. Joe could see the worry, but he wasn’t sure what he’d said to bring it on.

  “I’m just a little worried about everyone seeing my back.” The words tumbled out of Brad’s quivering lips, making Joe jump up. The loud creaking of his chair filled the van as he grabbed Brad in a big hug. Joe kicked himself for being so thoughtless over his comment about Greg not being bothered about being naked. Of course, Brad would worry about that.

  He tucked Brad’s head into his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “You are gorgeous, all of you. The scars just show the world how brave and how beautiful you are. They show how you survived and came out the other side, stronger and braver. No one in that room”—Joe pointed to the monitor and his empty bedroom—“will judge you or your body. Hell, with everything that will be happening in that room, the only thing anyone will be concentrating on is not combusting before they have their dick in our arses, or the other way around in my case.”

  Joe felt Brad pull back and let him go. He looked deep into his glittering tropical eyes, happy to see a glimmer of humour shine back at him.

  The sound of an engine
drawing up to the curb outside the van had Brad give him a look of alarm. Joe sprang into action and quickly switched off the computer. He rubbed his hands down his legs. He tried to remember what he’d left laid out on the bed.

  “Quick, distract Stuart while I go and clean up the evidence. Shit, why did he choose to be early today?”

  Joe grabbed Brad and shoved him out of the van before he could answer. He pushed him towards Stuart’s Porsche while he hightailed it back up the path. His mind searched for a reason for his mad dash back into the house. He ran to open the door. Darting inside, he shivered.

  His lips lifted in triumph. No coat. Yeah, that will work.

  He raced upstairs, hoping Brad could keep Stuart busy for a few minutes while he threw the dirty clothes into the clothes hamper in the bathroom. He tripped over his feet as he rushed to the bed. His body lurched forward. His tools clinked together as he grappled with the bed to stay standing while frantically trying to push everything back into his tool pouch.

  His pulse bounded, and his hands trembled as he finished tidying up the bed. He gave the room one last sweep before going to the spare room. He thrust everything back into his bag and rammed it under the bed when he heard Stuart shout up the stairs.

  “Joe. Joe, where are you hiding, now?” The loud sigh that accompanied Stuart’s shout had Joe move to the top of the stairs.

  “I’m not hiding. I needed a wee. I forgot my jacket, and it’s fucking Baltic out there.” Joe pointed to the now closed front door as he headed down the stairs. He prayed his pulse wasn’t visible in his neck, or Stuart would know something was off at the rate it was pulsing through his veins.

  “You’re home early. I thought you’d have been late with all the extra work created by Greg’s absence on Monday. Isn’t that what you and Martin have been moaning about for days?” Joe knew he sounded sarcastic when Stuart’s eyes turned flint hard.

  He continued to ramble, not letting Stuart get a word in edgeways. “I haven’t had a chance to make dinner yet. What do you fancy? I think I have some M&S frozen pizzas if you’re interested. I can’t be bothered cooking a proper meal.”