Christmas Angel

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Christmas Angel Page 12

by Sharon Maria Bidwell


  A small frown played over Candice’s brow, gone as fast. “So far all I’ve heard is concern about meeting the expectations of others and that won’t do. Dean, you may think of yourself, to consider your own emotions, feelings, and requirements. What or whoever made you feel that was wrong?”

  Didn’t take him even a second to answer this time. “My own selfishness.”

  * * * *

  As far as care homes went, they could have chosen worse. At least their grandmother had a room of her own. A large one. Memories hijacked Jay’s brain as many familiar items he remembered from his childhood simultaneously filled him with warmth, and sadness. Increasing confusion and forgetfulness had led his grandmother to this, but at least the decision had been mostly hers during her more lucid periods. She claimed to want her own space. Didn’t appear to hate it.

  Feet up on a recliner chair, box of chocolates, large television to herself, magazines everywhere, she looked at home.

  “It’s omnifariousness, nincompoop!” She tossed a chocolate wrapper at the television. “Comprising or relating to all sorts or varieties, is omnifariousness, you idiot.”

  His grandmother didn’t remember her own children’s names some days, but she was a walking dictionary.

  “She’s got a lovely view.” April bobbed her head to the scenery.

  A long, sweeping green led to a row of trees. A lovely view, indeed, but his grandmother remained too active to stay in this place. No way to deny her mind wandered, though. A crossword or a quiz show made her happy. As much as he could not imagine his life winding down to this, at least for his grandmother there were no signs of abuse and she was safe.

  “Gran, we’ve come to see you.” April tried once again to catch her attention.

  “Two minutes, hon.”

  April stared over, but he only shrugged. Two minutes later and the theme to the end of the show rang out and their grandmother lowered the volume.

  “This is from Mum. Your daughter,” April said. They’d brought a few goodies of favourite treats and toiletries. “She’ll be by with your Christmas present soon.”

  “Is it Christmas again already, dear?”

  A small frown tightened April’s brow. She glanced around at the tinsel and the small tree in the corner of the room. “Well…yes.”

  The old woman chuckled. “I’m fooling with you, dear. When you going to bring that nice man of yours?”

  April gazed back. Neither could be sure to which ‘nice man’ their grandmother referred. She had mistaken Dean as April’s boyfriend enough times, but she might refer to someone April dated five or ten years ago. April hadn’t introduced her to Brian yet because that might complicate things more.

  “Next time maybe,” April said.

  “And you? When are you going to meet someone?”

  “Maybe next time.” Jay gave the simplest answer. Chances were Gran wouldn’t even recall the conversation next time.

  “Hmm?”

  Or this minute.

  The television had captured her interest again as the news came on. The old woman stayed animated for all of thirty-seconds. “Oh damn.”

  “What is it, Gran?” April sounded cheerful enough but Jay could tell when she was forcing it.

  Their grandmother nodded at the television. “I used to like her.”

  April’s frown grew as she stared at the television presenter. “What’s changed? Why don’t you like her now?”

  “She just…what’d you call it? Gone out. She’s a lesbian.”

  April glanced at Jay. He stared back at her, unable to look at his grandmother.

  “Not unusual, Gran.” April didn’t take her gaze off him. “They’ve always existed.”

  “But they used to keep quiet. Keep to themselvvveeees.” She strung the last word out stressing the appropriateness of that.

  Jay couldn’t keep his eyes from sliding sideways. Wished he hadn’t. Her gaze narrowed. She wrinkled her nose.

  “There was no flaunting it,” their grandmother said.

  “She’s hardly flaunting.” April’s voice now contained a hard edge “The woman’s just living her life.”

  “She shouldn’t have told the nation.”

  “Why should she hide?”

  Jay shook his head, catching her attention. He wanted April to stop this now. Change the subject. Let the old woman slip back into her memories and dictionary definitions.

  “Why shouldn’t she? Why should I have to see her knowing what she is?”

  “Grannnn.” A touch of desperation stretched out the word, made April’s tone sound plaintive. She let out a small shriek and leapt to her feet as their grandmother spat at the television before switching the channel.

  Jay was way ahead of her. He was up out of his chair and heading to the door before he heard the change of programme.

  * * * *

  “One question jumped out of online reading.” Dean caught himself picking at his trouser leg. Made his hand stop. “One man raised the question of whether any bisexuals had ever returned to being hetero. No one said yes.”

  “What are you asking me, Dean? Whether you’ll wake up one morning, find this has been a phase, and discover you’re a hot-blooded hetero?”

  If he didn’t know better, he’d say she taunted him, hoped to deride his feelings. “I wouldn’t have thought it professional to tease.”

  “And you don’t respond if I treat you any other way. Do you think this relationship is a phase?”

  “Phase? No.” Three years of his life with the same person was no mere episode. “But I read of people going through a calm phase,” he stressed the word, “then the confusion kicking in again.”

  “Are you afraid your time with Jay is a calm phase?”

  Before he answered, his phone rang. “Sorry. I’ll turn it off.” He was about to but the caller was April. He answered, ignoring Candice’s raised eyebrows.

  “I’ll cut this short,” April said, the moment he said hello. “We visited our grandmother today. Didn’t go so well. I think you need to get home.”

  He’d grabbed his coat before she stopped speaking.

  * * * *

  “What happened?”

  The sound of Dean’s voice, his presence, should have been comforting, but was not. Jay couldn’t answer.

  “We went to see our grandmother.” April whispered—laughable in the silence, plus she repeated what Dean already knew.

  The two moved away. Jay still couldn’t look. Couldn’t react. He knew what April was telling Dean because he had lived it. He still couldn’t move, sat with the heels of his hands pressed against his forehead, elbows on knees, staring at the floor.

  The front door opened and shut. Dean soon sat beside him. Dean might wait forever until Jay was ready to talk. Or so he thought, but within seconds of April’s leaving something inside him cracked. The words at last flowed, spilling out.

  “You think you’re the only one to wish he wasn’t gay? You think I wouldn’t find life easier? She’s my grandmother. I love her…yet, if she knew…” Jay’s voice trailed away. His eyes stung. He couldn’t look at Dean for fear his eyes were red or they would glitter. He would not cry, but his voice thickened. “She spat at the television. Spat! I’ve never seen her do such a thing.”

  The silence resumed.

  “You’re wrong. I do wish I was gay.” Dean’s voice resonated, made Jay shiver with surprising pleasure. How, considering the circumstances, he couldn’t tell.

  “I’m not gay is the thing. I’m…complicated.” Dean’s tone conveyed something else—maybe amusement. Cordiality. “Whatever I am, it will always be a part of who I am. It’s not something that will go away.”

  “Whatever you are you have your family. My own grandmother hates me.”

  “She…” Dean hesitated. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  “Don’t. Please. Just…don’t. If she knew…” Jay shook his head. “She may not know it but she hates me. She hates you. And I know what y
ou’ll say. I do. She’s a different generation. She knows no better. She’s got dementia. She doesn’t understand.” Jay’s eyes glittered; he knew they were because the tears brimmed and threatened to spill. “I want to forgive her, I do. I will. I love her and I can’t hate her, but…what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do, knowing how she feels?”

  “You do the only thing you can. Forgive an old woman who doesn’t have much in her life and may not be long for this world. You accept she is of a generation who knew no better and that such people may well continue to exist for many generations to come. Then you carry on with your own life. With our life. And tonight…” Dean gazed ahead, at something no doubt reflective. “We have mind-blowing sex. The kind we can never forget and don’t care whether any bigot ever forgives.”

  The bubble of pain in Jay’s chest burst. It shouldn’t. Felt as though he should hang onto it, not let it go. A tear spilled over, containing each sorrow conceivable, but he was laughing even as the teardrop ran down his cheek.

  * * * *

  “You’re not coming until I’m in you.”

  Did Jay really say that? Dean lay blinking, straining to hear something other than their harsh breathing. Maybe he heard wrong. Jay’s gaze said otherwise. True, Dean was the one naked on his back, but he hadn’t intended to lie there and think of England. Not that he’d refuse Jay, especially with the way the other man gazed at him, his eyes bright, hooded with lust.

  How had he ever doubted his love for this man? This beautiful man and Dean didn’t mean only his looks. The reason he loved Jay was simple: he was the most honourable person Dean knew. Jay made him want to be a better person, no matter the cliché. Made him regret the moments when he said something stupid. No one had ever made him feel that way.

  Dean relaxed on the bed. “How do you want me?”

  The moment the words were out of Dean’s mouth, Jay groaned. Hell, Dean might come from the sound alone.

  “Legs up. Clasp your knees.”

  Okay, that gave him second thoughts. Dean hesitated, but not because he would refuse. An image of how vulnerable he would look passed through his mind, doing all manner of strange things to him, both good and bad. The bad somehow made the good better.

  “I feel kind of ridiculous.”

  Jay sat back on his heels, tilted his head. “Yeah, but that in itself is hot, and if it were me in that position, you sure wouldn’t say it’s ridiculous.”

  He’d have to concede the argument and, anyhow, the way Jay licked his lips made Dean hot enough to overcome any embarrassment.

  After placing the tube of lube on the bed, Jay scooted back and crouched. The position didn’t put his cock anywhere near Dean, but then Jay didn’t appear to be in any hurry to fuck.

  The first kiss landed on his testicles, but Jay didn’t linger there. As Jay’s attention wandered to his perineum, Dean tensed.

  Let him have this. Dean could invent no reason not to let Jay do something he so obviously enjoyed. Dean had to admit how good the tongue-action felt.

  He took a breath, let it out, forced his limbs to stillness, but Jay had unquestionably noticed the change. He diverted his path to place a kiss on Dean’s inner thigh.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Dean ventured a shrug but only managed a jerk, lying as he did on his back, legs curled to his chest. He definitely looked fucking ridiculous despite the position arousing Jay.

  “It’s not as if I’ve not done this before now.”

  “It’s this position I guess. Told you, I feel stupid.”

  Jay chuckled. “Feeling vulnerable?”

  He was a big enough bloke to admit to that. “Kind of, yes.” At least he was amused with himself. Dean waited, expecting Jay to offer a platitude. He expected Jay to say if Dean felt awkward, they didn’t have to do this. He heard neither.

  “I’ll make you feel something else.”

  Without pause, the shock of Jay’s mouth, hot and wet, tongue swirling around his opening made Dean shout and bounce on the bed. Then Jay’s tongue wriggled in and, in answer, Dean’s cock twitched and leapt.

  “Stop clenching. Just relax.”

  Easy for Jay to say. Dean wasn’t sure any part of his body obeyed. The only thing preventing him from kicking and flailing was his grip. He had his hands clamped so tight around his knees he might leave imprints.

  At least Jay had stopped talking, but that left his tongue free to do other things such as stab, wriggle, and oh God…Internal heat seared, leaving Dean sizzling then chilled from equal blasts of embarrassment and lust. A wonderful part of this lit up his nerves and mind with a sense of the forbidden.

  “I love you let me do this even though it turns you pink.”

  Pink? Was he blushing? He must be and they said a person blushed all over their body.

  “I’m flushed from sex.” Well, he had to say something defensive.

  Jay laughed. “Sure you are. I’d love to make you come like this, but I want to suck your cock, and then put mine somewhere tight and hot.”

  A break in this eloquent declaration made Dean look at Jay, who stared at the spot where he wanted to sink. Dean didn’t need telling, his muscles twitched there. Regardless of what he felt, Jay’s grin contained whole manuscripts.

  “You’re leaking so much.” Jay dipped his head and took Dean’s cock straight into his throat. When he came up for air, Dean was ready to swear his eyes revolved. “Do you have any idea how many youthful fantasies I had of sucking you off?”

  Dean choked. He would come before Jay got anywhere near to actual penetration. He told him so.

  “Not allowed.”

  “Not…?” Dean barked out a laugh.

  “Not before I’m inside, remember.”

  He did, but his whole body argued. Images of a younger Jay…doing what? Jerking off to fantasies of him? One glimpse of Jay’s face and Dean pictured it all. Yeah. He had no doubt.

  To distract his mind and to hurry this along, Dean said, “Fuck me then.”

  Jay shook his head at the invitation. “Not yet.” He went back to licking and sucking until Dean vibrated with tension. The one time he almost let go of a leg, Jay reached for his hand and pressed his fingers around the curve of his knee again.

  Like a bug on my back. He might be, but few insects had nut sacks so thoroughly investigated. The attention gave him breathing space. Too short. Gone. Jay returned to Dean’s cock, swallowing him to the root. Dean pushed with his hips, the action involuntary. He tried not to, didn’t want to make Jay cough, to choke…but Jay’s throat relaxed, swallowing him whole.

  Impossible.

  A swift squeeze of pressure threatened to make Dean explode.

  “Oh god…can’t.”

  Jay ignored him for another moment, for another couple of up and down motions, before drawing off and then…when had Jay slicked up? Maybe Dean had blacked out because he knew nothing but the growing pressure and, yes, the pain of having Jay stretch him open.

  If you did this more often, it would be easier. While true, he savoured this…the virginal feeling and the discomfort. He didn’t want to be hurt but accepted both the small pain with the pleasure, because giving Jay what he wanted always did strange things to Dean beyond the physical, on a deep, connecting level.

  Jay nudged him deep inside in other ways. He came down, pressing a kiss to Dean’s lips, one to which Dean opened his mouth. Their tongues duelled as Jay thrust. When the kiss broke, Dean said, “I won’t last.”

  He focused on the glitter of Jay’s eyes, his lover so plainly unsurprised. Jay snagged a handful of Dean’s hair, holding Dean to the bed by the strands, while rising up on one arm, making Dean helpless. Sure, he could pull free, but he might lose a few locks. He had to admire the way Jay had taken control, how now the man’s limbs visibly trembled, but Jay carried on, skin dewed with sweat, hair still long enough to cascade over one side of his face and neck.

  “Need to come?”

  He couldn’t believe Ja
y asked. He glared, lips peeling back. Goodness knew what Jay saw in his expression. A rictus of pain maybe. That and more. A chuckle shivered through him—Jay’s not Dean’s for once, as Jay’s left hand went to Dean’s cock leaving Jay to balance on his knees. He rocked his hips, position precarious, awkward, and plain difficult to maintain. Jay would suffer for this, but as the beat increased on Dean’s cock and he leaned into the short sharp thrust in the right spot…

  The house detonated as Dean came on a grunt, Jay’s answering cry so resonant it might have shattered glass.

  For several long minutes, Jay lay on Dean’s chest. Good thing the man was so slight, the two so different in stature, otherwise Jay would grow heavy. Good thing they didn’t need to go anywhere. Might never move again. At least the sex had silenced his thoughts. Even thinking so didn’t make the questioning and self-examination begin again. Would be nice to have the night off from his troubles.

  The only hint Jay recovered was the sound of him swallowing. When he moved, the effort came across as clumsy, uncoordinated. Dean awaited a sharp dig to the ribs, or Jay balancing his weight on something he shouldn’t. Didn’t happen but then Jay still needed to put more effort into the endeavour.

  “God,” Jay muttered.

  “Hmm.”

  “That was…”

  “Mmmmmm.” Dean couldn’t agree more. Fingertips trailed over his chest.

  “I mean…wow.” Jay chuckled. “I guess that’s what they mean by passionate.” His lips brushed where his fingers had been. “Whatever’s going on with you, I’m not complaining. Not yet.”

  Despite the joint warmth, merriment, and pleasure in Jay’s tone, Dean’s blood went cold. The ceiling appeared miles overhead as his heart plummeted. He must have conveyed his feelings to the other man because Jay raised his head, small lines radiating across his brow. His gaze flickered, thoughts darting behind his pupils.

  “I’m not stupid.”

 

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