by Eli Easton
I chuckled.
“We’ll all convene at my apartment. Someplace new. A big city. George will have his pretty lady with him. Pops, you’ll be on a health kick—”
“Never,” Jim huffed.
“—and Gabe will have wrapped up some important news assignment to hang out with us.”
I squeezed his hand. I liked the sound of that.
“And we’ll find some big sporting event or concert or some such shit to go to for our big night out. And… that’s all I’ve got.”
George raised his glass. “From our mouths to God’s ear. Salut!”
“Salut!” we all said, and drank.
And in that moment, for the first time in years, I felt the real magic of Christmas. It was just being with people you loved, people who accepted you and loved you back, and taking that moment in time to sidestep everyday routine and acknowledge that. Mackinac was quaint and special, but the place didn’t really matter. Mack mattered. And Jim and George.
I added my own silent prayer.
Let me have this. I’ve been a good boy this year, Santa. Let me have this awhile longer.
Christmas Eve, One Year Later
“Mack! You home yet?”
I was in such a hurry, my keys shook in the deadbolts. Once inside our apartment, I ripped off my coat and gloves.
Mack appeared at the door to our bedroom and leaned casually against the lintel. He had to duck his head to fit.
“Dios, you gorgeous beast,” I said, appreciating the show.
Mack had on nothing but a tan towel wrapped around his waist. He’d filled out this past year since ne no longer had to worry about his wrestling weight. He was a bit more padded around the waist, carried more flesh around his arms and face despite the fact that we ran together a few times a week. I loved it on him. He was so… juicy. He’d grown out his hair too and sometimes wore tortoiseshell glasses. He was like the Hulk wearing a Halloween costume of Clark Kent. I found that incredibly sexy.
He raised one arm, flexed the bicep for me, and waggled his eyebrows. “We’ve got a whole hour before we have to leave for the airport.”
“I know!” I kicked off my boots and shoved down my jeans, determined not to waste a second of it. “I want you so bad, mi alma.”
“You too, baby,” Mack said as I crossed the room naked and launched myself at him.
We’d been so crazed for the past week, getting everything ready for Christmas as well as dealing with our busy jobs, that we hadn’t had much time together. And this was our last chance to get raunchy before our guests descended. I needed this.
Mack lost his towel somewhere between the doorway and the bed, and we laughed at our own desperation as we stumbled around. But soon we were horizontal. It wasn’t hard to find the mattress since the extra-long king took up almost the entirety of the small bedroom. But given the fun we had on it, it was totally worth the space.
“What do you want?” Mack kissed my neck and squeezed everything he could get his hands on. His squeezing, the gentle power in those huge hands, was the best.
Hmm. What did I want? I loved anal—both ways. But it was best reserved for when we had more time and didn’t have to be somewhere immediately afterward.
“I’d kill for a blowjob,” I said. “Sixty-nine?”
“Done,” Mack agreed eagerly.
We made out some more first, though. I pulled Mack on top of me, and we rutted and kissed. With my eyes closed, I drank in the fresh scent of our herbal soap, the damp press of acres of skin, the softness of the fur on his chest, the solid heft of his body against mine, and the massive boner prodding at my stomach. My palms rubbed over his big back and ass. I could do this for hours, and I got lost in it. But at some point, I remembered that we had someplace to be.
I broke the kiss. “Turn around and give me that thing.”
Mack obeyed, swinging around. A slippery heat enveloped my dick as Mack swallowed me whole. Gasping, I wrapped my hands around him and brought him to my mouth.
He groaned around my shaft as he sank between my lips. I formed a tunnel with my hands around his base and closed my eyes.
This. This was one of my favorite things in the world. Mack over me, thrusting through my hands and into my mouth, controlling the tempo—controlling me—completely. He owned me like this, invading all my senses. I loved the sexiness of feeling that hard, pulsing flesh in both my hands, rigid shaft sliding through silky soft skin, of having him plunge into my mouth and fill it to the edge of what I could handle, withdraw, and do it over and over again, the low groans he made, and the shaking of his thighs. The feel of him always brought me to orgasm fast, especially with Mack doing his best to suck me dry at the same time.
My own moans got louder as I warned him I was close. He pumped faster and I was there. I was still spasming as the first sharp taste of his spend hit my tongue.
Afterward, we lay side by side on the bed, panting. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. We had twenty minutes. I was determined to spend at least ten of those cuddling with my boyfriend. I rolled against him, laid my head on his mildly sweaty chest, and sighed contentedly.
I got a little too relaxed. Half an hour later, I stumbled out of our bedroom while trying to put on one boot. It had started snowing outside, and I’d decided I needed power footgear at the last possible minute.
“Still waiting by the door,” Mack said calmly.
He was hard to miss. Our one-bedroom apartment in the Garment District in New York was tiny, but it had lots of character with 1800s wainscoting and window sashes deep enough to sit in. The slight smell of mold was probably from the 1800s too, but we Febreezed the shit out of that.
“I don’t want to be late,” I said, hastily tying my laces.
“We’ve got plenty of time. But we need to go.”
I laughed as he opened the door. “That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.” Mack locked the three deadbolts from the hallway. New Yorkers took their security very seriously, though from the way our neighbors nervously eyed Mack, I doubted we had to worry about a break-in.
He ducked his head on the way down the stairs. It came naturally after the tenth or so time he’d banged his noggin.
Outside on the sidewalk, I froze. “Oh my God. Did I put the drinks in the fridge?”
“Yes. I saw you do it.” Mack gave an impatient huff and took my hand. “Gabe, chill. It’s just family.”
“I know. But….” I stopped on the sidewalk, tugging Mack around to face me.
“What?” he asked me, but he was already smiling as if he knew.
“This is our first real family Christmas, in our first apartment. It’s pretty fucking awesome!”
He wiped his face, trying not to grin. “It is,” he said seriously. “But we had Jordan and Owen to stay before, so we’ve already done the hosting thing.”
That was true. Jordan was working for DC comics in Burbank, and Owen had found a job as an assistant coach at a high school in Santa Monica. They’d come to stay with us for the New York Comic Con in October. We had a blast. We did all the touristy New York things Mack and I had been too busy to see.
“Gabe,” Mack said seriously, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I love you. So it’s all good.”
Gah. He knew those three little words could make me forget everything.
“You’re right.” I took a deep breath and shook out my hands. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do this. Also? I love you too.”
We headed for the subway.
The plan was to take the AirTrain to JFK and rent a taxi for the ride back since we’d have a lot of people and a lot of bags. By some miracle, the plane schedules had coordinated well. We were picking up George and Jim from Madison, and mi mama from Indianapolis, within an hour of each other. We’d found an Airbnb a block from our place that was being rented by a couple going to the Ukraine for Christmas. George and Jim were staying there and Mama was staying on our pull-out sofa. There’d been much agonizing over the
arrangements, but George and Jim insisted on not overcrowding us, and Mama said Mack needed to sleep in his own bed because it was an extra-long mattress, so we’d finally given in.
My mother hadn’t been to New York City in twenty years, and Jim and George had never been, so they stared out the window as we came out of the Queens Midtown Tunnel and went by the Empire State Building on 34th.
Mama linked her arm through mine. She was petite, pretty, and smart—in my humble opinion. Her brown eyes were lit with excitement. “I’m so happy to be here with you, mi ángel. And I’m so proud of you, making your own way in the world. New York City yet!”
“Thanks, Mama. I love it.”
I was secretly glad that things had worked out the way they had for the holidays. My brother John was serious with a woman, and they were spending Christmas with her family as was my sister Loretta and her boyfriend, Tony. So my family had gotten together in Indianapolis for Thanksgiving, Mack too. That meant I had mi mama all to myself for Christmas, and it was sort of perfect.
We got everyone settled at the Airbnb and our place, and then we all walked down to Mack’s favorite hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant.
“They mentioned you in the Wisconsin State Journal last week,” Jim said over his curry.
“They did?” Mack grunted, confused. “What for?”
“Whaddya mean, what for? You’re the best wrestler in Badger history. ’Course you’re gonna come up every five minutes,” Jim huffed.
God, he was so proud of Mack. Mama gave me a knowing smile, and I knew she was thinking the same thing.
“I wish I could have seen you wrestle in person, Mack,” she said. “Though Gabe showed me so many videos!” She tsked, teasing me.
“Did not,” I lied, embarrassed.
Mack smiled at my mother but didn’t let the topic go. “What was the article about, Pops? Their crappy season so far?”
“Pretty much. They don’t got anyone who can replace you. Also, that Terry Jones guy wrote the article. He still can’t believe you and Owen were both gay. He goes on about how ‘unbelieveable’ that is every chance he gets.” Jim grinned a sharklike grin.
“I don’t think that word means what he thinks it means,” George joked.
Yeah, no one had been able to believe it when Mack came out. After Christmas last year, we’d kept things under the radar, mostly hanging out at Mack’s house, well away from campus. The Badgers made it to the Big 10 and NCAA championships in March, where Mack and Owen both won in their weight class, but ultimately Penn State won the NCAA title.
After the NCAA championships, there was a dinner for all the athletes, and Jordan went with Owen and Mack invited me to go. I was terrified, but I went. We sat at a table with Owen and Jordan, and got some weird looks, but I think the idea that Mack was gay was so unimaginable that not many people made the connection. And it’s not like we held hands or made out. But photos of our table were taken.
The next week, Mack gave an interview to a WKOW news crew in which he outed himself. And after that, our dinner pictures appeared everywhere with headings that referred to me as “Mack McDonall’s boyfriend, Gabriel Martin.” In the interview, Mack admitted that he was only comfortable coming out because he’d finished his last wrestling season. He said he hoped someday it would be easier for athletes to be out while competing.
When the story broke, his phone went nuts. We all discussed how to handle it—Mack, Jim, Owen, me, and the Badgers wrestling coach. I was happy to support whatever Mack wanted to do. In the end, he gave a phone interview to CNN and ignored the rest. It played for a few days but blew over quickly. Enough athletes had come out that it wasn’t a huge deal anymore, especially since Mack’s career was finished and he had no plans to go pro.
But there were still some people out there who’d never believe that six foot ten Mack “the Mountain” McDonall was gay. Whatever lets you sleep at night, peeps.
Of course, I became a bit famous for a while too, being Mack’s boy toy. Honestly? I kinda dug it. I was way okay with having everyone on campus know that 285 pounds of man was all mine. There were a few unpleasant incidents, though. The worst one was when three footballers followed me in the bookstore and had a loud conversation amongst themselves about how big a hole I must have to take Mack McDonall up the ass. It was demeaning and a little frightening. But I got out of there and they didn’t follow me. I didn’t mention it to Mack, for fear he’d go after them.
But, like Jordan said, putting up with bullshit homophobia was the price of being open. And having Mack and my relationship open was worth any bullshit the world could throw at me.
“So tell me about your job, Mack,” Mama said, sipping her green tea. “Do you like it so far?”
Mack nodded and put down his fork. “I do. The DEP has a Climate Change Program Assessment and Action Plan they developed in 2008. I’m going through it and updating costs and flagging any place where we can use newer technology or need to take another look at the original recommendation. It’s mostly a way for me to get familiar with it. But yeah, I like the department. The woman who runs it is great to work for.”
Mack had been hired by the New York City Environmental Protection Department last July. It was exactly what he’d wanted, and hopefully, it was a place he could grow into for years to come.
I, on the other hand, had a long way to go to reach my dreams.
“I bet there’s a good retirement package,” Mama said with a knowing nod.
“Yeah. If I’m there in thirty years.” Mack shrugged.
“It comes quicker than you think!” She waved her fork at him. “Listen to me, Mack. You’ll be thrilled to have retirement income at fifty-two, ojala. God willing.” Her sharp gaze turned to me. “What about you, mi ángel? Did you have a good week at work?”
“It’s fine. Just paying my dues right now.” I said.
“But working for a TV station, that’s a good job,” Jim insisted.
I was working for WCBS-TV, a CBS affiliate, as a “Producer I”, which was basically the lowest rung on the ladder in TV news. However, I had big dreams and I wasn’t afraid to go after them. Living in Manhattan, I could respond to any job opening at a bigger network, like CNN, in a heartbeat.
“Mack told us you were on TV the other day,” George said.
Mi mama leaned forward, her face lit up like the Christmas tree in the corner of the restaurant. “De veras? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shot Mack a look and laughed. “Oh, yeah. It was a hot little number too. We had a story about storm drains and there was a shot of me lifting a manhole cover in the background. I was on the air for at least two seconds.”
“But you looked good,” Mack said with faux seriousness. “The camera loved you.”
“Stop!” I laughed, pushing his shoulder. As usual, Mack didn’t budge an inch.
“What about your job, Pops?” Mack asked.
“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. I’m trying to convince George to move to New York with me. Or maybe Brooklyn. That’d give you boys some space. How’d that be?”
“That would be awesome,” Mack said with surprise. I nodded adamantly.
Jim and George looked at each other, then back at us. “Really?” George asked. “It wouldn’t be too much?”
“No way. Anyhow, I’ll need the company once Gabe starts traveling around the world,” Mack said, rubbing my back.
“Yeah, no rush then,” I said, but I smiled.
After dinner, we walked the dozen blocks to Times Square. Somehow Jim got Mama’s arm hooked in his, and George strolled on her other side while Mack and I trailed after them. It was the first time they’d all met, and I’d been a little worried about how they’d get along. We had five long days together. But mi mama seemed comfortable with Jim and George already, and Jim went all out to treat her like a “lady.”
Which she ate up with a freaking spoon.
We walked for a couple of hours, enjoying the crowds and all the Christmas windows and decorati
ons. Finally, we stopped at a cafe to get hot drinks and share some dessert.
“So,” George said. “We need to do our annual Christmas wish. We hit a home run last year.”
“That’s right!” Jim said brightly. He explained the tradition to mi mama while he slipped the flask from his inside pocket. “I’m not a big drinker, but I brought this just for the toast. It’s really nice brandy. You’ll like it.” He looked around to make sure the waitress wasn’t watching, then tipped a little into all of our cups. He put the flask away and held up his cup. “Okay. So last year we were on Mackinac Island, and I predicted we’d be spending this Christmas with Mack in his new city with his new job. And here we are.”
“Yup, you nailed it. But there was something about a woman, I think,” Mack teased George.
George looked embarrassed and glanced at Mama. “Well, I wasn’t entirely wrong. We do have a lovely lady friend to spend Christmas with us.”
“That’s true,” Jim said. “Plus, it took three years of my wishing for Gabe to show up for Mack, so maybe it’ll just take a while for your lady love, George.” He cleared his throat. “Now for this year. Okay if I go first?”
“Go ahead, Pops.” Mack relaxed back in his chair and put his hand on my leg under the table. I laced my fingers with his.
“Right then. Well first, Merry Christmas Eve to you all. Gabe and Camila, thank you for adding some class to our little family. It means a whole lot to me to be here with you guys.”
Something in Jim’s voice made me think about the years he’d spent Christmas in prison. I squeezed Mack’s hand, appreciating our good fortune all the more.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am that Mack’s a part of Gabriel’s life,” Mama said, smiling at him. “We just love him to death. He’s such a responsible boy. You did a wonderful job, Jim.”
“Not just me. George too,” Jim said, which made George smile.
Jim cleared his throat. “Anyhow, so for next year. I say… next Christmas we’ll be in New York again, only George and I will live closer so it won’t be a big trip. Mack and Gabe will be doing well at their jobs. And me, I’ll have a new job that’s okay too. Just something to pay the bills is all I need. And that’s all I got. George?”