The Chrismukkah Crisis

by Ryan Taylor

  “Townsend isn’t in his office.”

  If this was going to be what I thought it was, Townsend was probably down there already.

  Matt pulled back as much as he could, which wasn’t much, considering the grip I had on him. He looked up at me. “This could ruin you.”

  “The only thing that could ruin me is losing you.” His eyes were huge, and I kissed him for all I was worth. “I love you, Matt Kennington. I need you way worse than I need this fucking job.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Earl Liswell’s assistant ushered Matt and me into his office. It was a large, generic room with two windows that looked out on the same alley my office window did. The carpet was thick, and the burgundy color matched the upholstery on the old-fashioned chairs. A plain beige velvet sofa sat against a wall. The room’s personality matched Liswell’s—outdated, cold, and uncomfortable.

  I wasn’t surprised to find others already there. Hal Macombe, the partner in charge of associate affairs sat on the sofa, and Herb Townsend sat on a chair in the corner. Liswell lorded over everyone behind his desk with a dour expression on his face.

  Macombe and Liswell kept their asses in their seats, but Herb got up and greeted Matt and me warmly. He whispered something to Matt and I couldn’t make out what. “You’re a good man, Aaron,” he said into my ear. “Follow your heart.”

  Liswell gestured at two chairs in front of his desk. “The places of honor, gentlemen.” His snorty chuckle was disgusting.

  When everyone was seated and coffee declined, he looked at us over the top of his glasses. “I won’t waste any time. I assume you already know why you’re here.”

  “And why might that be?” I stared into his mean-spirited eyes. “Assumptions are ill-advised this morning.”

  “Very well.” He snickered. “If you insist. It has come to light that you and Mr. Kennington are involved with one another romantically. That is a flagrant and direct violation of the firm’s antifraternization policy.” He took off his glasses and slurped noisily from the bottle of water on his desk. “There are no exceptions to the policy.”

  I glanced at Matt, who was almost in tears, his eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

  I looked back at Liswell and refused to blink. “What might lead you to this presumptuous conclusion?”

  “Ha!” He looked at Macombe, then back at me. “My very own eyes, Mr. Roth. I witnessed an unmistakable moment between you two. In the luncheon room at the Mayflower, last Friday evening.”

  That drummed a knife through my gut, not that I was going to let him see. “And might I ask how this came to be?”

  Just as I hoped, Earl Liswell was as indiscreet as he was obnoxious, and he was loyal to no one. “Suzanne Martin came to me with a certain delicate matter on Friday morning. Later in the evening, at the party, she came to me with the information that you and Mr. Kennington were alone in the hallway behind the restrooms. We arrived at the door of the luncheon room just in time to witness the dance of the damned. And after the dance—well, there is no explaining that away.”

  When I reached over for Matt’s hand, he let me take it. He looked up, and his eyes were not only full of tears, but also burning with the glare of defiance I hoped to see.

  I turned back toward Liswell. “You know what, Earl?” He winced at the familiarity, and I glanced at the other two. “Hal? Mr. Townsend?” Townsend smiled but no one said anything.

  “Matt and I are in love,” I said. “We were going to tell you that today, and request for one of us to be reassigned to a different department. We were only waiting to tell Mr. Townsend first.”

  Liswell’s horselaugh was deafening. “Love? Oh, for the love of God.” He cackled as he plucked a tissue from the box on his desk and dabbed at his eyes. “What do you know about love? You’re all of what, twenty-four, twenty-five?” He hee-hawed some more until he noticed the disgusted looks Macombe and Townsend were shooting in his direction. Returning his glare to Matt and me, he cleared his throat. “What you both are, based on what I saw, are boys in heat. And you are about to be boys unemployed. I have never—”

  “Earl!” Macombe held up a hand. “Let’s not go there yet.”

  Liswell pulled his head back and scoffed. “Why not? The policy is clear, there are no exceptions, and he’s admitted it outright.”

  “We discussed some options before this meeting.” Macombe’s voice had a razor-sharp edge.

  Liswell sighed and extended a hand in Macombe’s direction. “Very well. Be my guest.”

  Townsend wiggled to life in his chair like a robot activated by remote control. He stood, his face red and nostrils flared. “For the record, I completely disagree with the firm’s policy, and with what you’re doing here. It is unconscionable. The only thing that should matter is whether or not a relationship interferes with a person’s ability to do his or her job. These are two very smart young men, and we’ll be lucky if they don’t haul us all into court.” He paused to catch his breath. “Young Mr. Roth has the makings of a brilliant lawyer, and Mr. Kennington is the finest paralegal I’ve worked with in forty years of practice. If they do decide to sue us, they might end up owning the firm.”

  Macombe harrumphed. “Thank you, Herb.” He was clearly uncomfortable as he turned to Matt and me again. “Gentlemen, while I may agree with some of what Herb just said, Mr. Liswell is correct. The antifraternization policy is unambiguous, it is applied equilaterally, and there are no exceptions. The firm would be within its rights to terminate both of you as of now, with cause.”

  Matt squeezed my hand, and when I turned to look at him, he was smiling at me. His eyes were still watery, and his chin trembled a little, but his expression was set. I nodded and smiled back at him.

  Macombe cleared his throat. “Mr. Kennington? Mr. Roth?”

  I turned back in his direction.

  “You’re both very good at what you do, and this is a difficult situation, but I’m afraid only one of you can continue working for Craig Swan. There is no other alternative, and the firm is making an exception to allow even that.”

  I felt like jumping up and knocking Macombe’s block off. Matt must have sensed it because he squeezed my hand again. Your boyfriend is one strong dude.

  Liswell picked up a fancy pen and turned it over in his hand. “We won’t decide who will stay and who will go. That is up to the two of you. I need your decision, in writing, no later than twelve noon on December 30. The lack of a memo from you at that time will be considered a resignation on both your parts.”

  I wanted to punch the vile, arrogant smirk right off his face. He shifted in his chair and sniffed daintily. “Mr. Kennington, for the time being, you are on administrative leave. Although I disagree, the firm chooses to continue your salary and benefits during such leave.”

  He brushed the front of his old-fashioned jacket and trained his foggy eyes on me. “Mr. Roth, being an associate attorney, you are slightly—but only slightly—shielded from my authority. That is indeed fortunate for you, because if I could, I would fire you this very minute. The lack of ethics and judgment you have displayed in becoming involved with a subordinate speaks volumes about your character.”

  “Earl!” Townsend was on his feet again, looking like he might have a stroke. “You have no right!”

  He bared his teeth at Townsend like a wolf that’s ready to attack. “I have every right.” Townsend sat down, and Liswell turned his lifeless eyes back in my direction. “You have opened us up to all kinds of unsavory allegations. Harassment, hostile work environment… why, in DC, someone could even claim discrimination based on sexual orientation.” He slurped at his water again. “You disgust me, Mr. Roth. You are a predator who has no place in decent society. Rest assured that if you do stay on at this firm, there will be no second chance, and your every move will be scrutinized.” He shoved his tissue box to the edge of the desk. “For now, you are suspended until I have your and Mr. Kennington’s final decision.”

  Matthew

  Aaron seemed so c
alm. There we sat, about to lose our jobs for no other reason than loving each other, and you’d have thought Earl Assdrip had asked a question about the weather. I’ve never understood how Aaron can have that much self-control.

  Liswell said something about me and administrative leave. Fine.

  But when he went off on Aaron, it was like a bomb exploded in my head. The things Liswell said had me pinned in my chair for a moment, but I was finally able to tear my hand loose from Aaron’s and jump up. “You miserable, sickening bastard,” I yelled, so loud that everyone jumped. A cold blast of Novocain flew up the back of my brain. “You are an evil, condescending, pathetic excuse for a human being.”

  Liswell slammed his chair back so hard it crashed into the credenza behind his desk and gaped at me as if I’d slapped him. For that matter, the other men looked a bit shell-shocked, too. Aaron grabbed my hand and tried to pull me back down. “Matt, it’s okay. We’re—”

  “Nothing’s okay,” I snapped, pulling my hand loose again. Liswell was still frozen in place, probably wondering if I was going to come around the desk after him. I did my best to give him the same look he’d just used on Aaron. “You wouldn’t qualify for the roll of Great Grandpa Bangtail in low-budget, stinky-old-man porn.”

  “Matt!” Aaron hissed. “Please, baby.”

  I closed my eyes and thought about Saturday night at the zoo—the lights, the fun, the animals at peace. After a moment, I was able to open my eyes again and look around the room, my anger tempered by sadness.

  “You want one of us gone? You don’t have to wait—I quit. It’s your loss, though. I don’t deserve the good things Mr. Townsend said about me, but you’re going to miss me around here. I’m a loyal employee who’s always tried to do a great job, to be better every day than I was the day before.”

  The way Bitchwell sniffed, you’d have thought somebody shat in the room. “Mr. Kennington, that is beside—”

  “Stop!” I pinched my lips together so hard they tingled and gave him the coldest look in my repertoire. Ignoring the roiling in my gut, I went on. “Aaron Roth is the finest man I’ve ever met. Even I can tell how good a lawyer he is, and he’s only going to get better. Unlike a lot of the others around here, he cares about people. His top priority isn’t making money no matter what. He’s smarter than hell, and someday he’ll run this firm.”

  “Mr. Kennington! Control yourself!” Liswell croaked.

  “Be quiet, you self-loathing closet case!” I snarled, and he cowered back against his credenza. When I spoke again, my voice was so calm it shocked even me. “You’d better hope you’ll have retired by then, Earl, because if you haven’t, I pity you. Aaron’s smart enough to make your life a living hell and never leave a trace.”

  I looked at Aaron for the first time in a while, and his mouth was open, his eyes wide as full moons. He did his best to smile at me with an open mouth, and I smiled back. “Aaron, Tolstoy said, ‘We are asleep until we fall in love!’ You, Mr. Roth, have certainly awakened my sleepy soul.”

  Managing to tear my eyes away from Aaron, I looked back at Liswell. “Earl, I can’t imagine how horrible it’s been for you to have to hide who you are all these years, but that doesn’t give you any right to impose your misery on others. Don’t worry about administrative leave, or the thirtieth of December. It will be a pleasure for me to move on to another place. Hopefully, there, I won’t be working for a mangy crocodile in out-of-style clothing.”

  I nodded at Macombe and Townsend, and then smiled at Aaron while I stroked the bottom of his chin. After a moment, I turned, made sure I was using my very best posture, and walked out the door.

  Aaron

  Matt left! No!

  I looked around the room, taking everybody in. “Uh—I quit too! This place sucks.”

  I caught up to Matt at the elevator. He was practically gasping for air, and tears spilled down his cheeks when he saw me. “You came!”

  He launched himself at me and locked his arms around my neck while he wrapped his legs around my hips. Our lips smashed together as if led by a homing device. Standing there in the hallway, we kissed and held on to each other like starving men.

  “I’m so sorry, Aaron. I ruined everything.”

  Carefully, I set him back on the floor and cradled his cheeks in my hands. “What the fuck are you saying?” Strangled with emotion, my voice was a whisper. “You haven’t ruined anything. I finally have a life I want to live because of you.” He sniffed, and I tweaked his nose. “I quit too, before I left. I was looking for a job when I found this one, and I’ll look again.”

  We stood there for another minute, holding each other. “Guess we should go and get our things, huh?”

  I’d barely pressed the elevator call button when the doors slid open and two security officers stepped out. “Matthew Kennington? Aaron Roth?”

  “Yes?” My happy grin disappeared as I stepped deep into the first officer’s personal space. He backed up, holding out his hands. “Sir, we’re just here to see you two out of the building.”

  The other officer, younger than the first, teetered back and forth on unsteady feet. “You…. Um… you two have stuff you need to get? Before you go?”

  Matthew

  My memories of that day are reminiscent of a Monet painting—rapid brushstrokes, broken color, reflections of natural light. We went back to my place, where we laughed, cried, made love, and lay in each other’s arms for hours.

  We were lying in bed about seven o’clock that night when Aaron started wiggling around. “You hungry?”

  “Not really, but you must be starved.” I felt safe, nestled against his side.

  “You have worked me pretty hard.” He grinned and raised up a little, twisting his head around to give me a kiss.

  We were lying in the middle of our sex mess—well, three sex messes, to be honest. My mind was in blissful shambles. In two weeks, I’d gone from being a heartbroken guy with a good job to an ecstatically happy man facing potential eviction and bankruptcy.

  Aaron pinched my nipple between two extended fingers. “Want to order pizza?”

  I laughed. “Can we afford it?”

  He rolled on top of me, all weight and warmth, sweat and sex. “Don’t worry about that.”

  “Okay.” Whatever he says. “I’ll worry tomorrow.”

  He grazed my chin with a fingertip. “I mean it. We’ll be okay.” He spent a few seconds kissing my throat, and I was amazed to feel my cock stretch out, just a little.

  He said, we’ll be okay. That bounced around in my brain while I played with the hair around his navel. After a moment, I looked into his bright eyes. “I don’t have much money saved, at all. This is huge for me, Aaron. I could end up on the street.”

  He lay back down and spent a little time kissing the hollow beneath my throat. “You’re sticking with me, right?”

  “You really want me? After what I cost you?”

  His hand slid down to my stomach and rubbed away some of the tightness there. “You didn’t cost me anything. What happened is really a positive for me, even if it did happen in an unfortunate way.” He dug just a little deeper into my abs, and I moaned as more of the tension gave way. “I wasn’t happy in BigLaw. I can think about what I really want to do now, about how I can use my law degree to help people.”

  “Well, I’ve got to find something quick,” I said, surprised when my voice caught in my throat. “I don’t have the luxury of waiting.”

  He sat up and focused his bright, steady eyes on mine. “Make a deal with me?”

  “What’s that?”

  “First, you didn’t answer my question about whether you’re sticking with me. Are you?” He wrinkled his forehead and narrowed his eyes slightly.

  Nodding as much as the pillow behind my head would allow, I couldn’t help smiling. “Definitely.”

  “So….” He lay back down beside me and took me in his arms. “Trust me. I’ve got some money put aside. Let me take care of us—”

  “I do
n’t want charity! I can take care of myself.”

  He brushed his fingertips along my side and disarmed a lot of my resistance. “I’m not talking about charity. You’re in a tough spot because of me, and we love each other, right? You do still—”

  I smacked his arm. “Don’t even ask that. Don’t ask it, ever again. I absolutely love you. Period.”

  “Okay!” His grin lit up the dim room. “Let’s spend a couple of weeks figuring us out. What we are, what we want… where we want to be.”

  “Us? You’re ready to figure that out?”

  He tweaked my nose. “Champing at the bit. Let’s figure that out while we enjoy the holidays, then we’ll dig in and find good jobs. We’re young and talented. We’ll do fine.”

  Through the prism of my tears, I saw about three Aarons. “I’d really, really like that.”

  He nuzzled my throat again, while he tickled my balls. We went with it, and an hour later, we got around to ordering pizza.

  Tuesday, December 20

  Aaron

  I couldn’t breathe. The undertow had me. The water was over my head, and no matter how hard I tried to bat my way to the surface, I couldn’t break loose. I could see the sun, but I couldn’t feel it.

  “Aaron! Aaron, stop!”

  My limbs were a whirling dervish of twists, kicks, and slaps. Have to get away! Have to save Matt!

  Gradually, his face came into focus as he climbed on top of me and pinned me to the bed. My breath came in frantic heaves.

  “Aaron! What the hell?” His eyes were panicky. “You okay?”

  Darth Vader and Darth Sidious had cornered me. I had too many powers for them to carry me away, so they caught me in a tractor beam that was pulling me away from Matt. They’d trapped him with a paralysis ray, and he lay helpless on the asteroid where we’d thought we were safe.

  “Mr. Roth, you’ve been very inappropriate,” Darth Vader rasped, sounding oddly like Hal Macombe. “There’s only one solution. We have to get you back to the worker’s colony.”

  “Mr. Kennington is useless,” Darth Sidious whisper-hissed at me—but wait, wasn’t that Earl Liswell’s voice? “We’ll spare you the sight of his meeting the death ray.”