by KC Burn
"Hey there, stranger."
"Stranger? Strange, maybe, but if you're forgetting what I look like, maybe I'll have to send you a selfie. Or a dick pic."
Dean laughed, even though his cheeks heated a bit. One day, their phone call had veered almost into phone sex territory, and Tony had offered to send a dick pic. Not like Dean had never watched porn or anything, but he'd never received a pic that had... intent behind it. Intent to follow through. Intent to get up close and personal with that dick as soon as was humanly possible.
"Seriously, though." Tony's voice dropped, making Dean's stomach flutter, this time with desire. "I miss you."
Just like that, they were back to the comfort zone Dean had somehow freaked himself out of. "Miss you, too."
Those words were surprisingly easy to say.
"So, what's up? I only have a couple of minutes to talk—my mother is being a rampaging perfectionist tonight and she'll be looking for me soon—but I'm glad you called."
"No reason, really. Just wanted to hear your voice."
Tony just hummed contentedly in his ear, but Dean knew he was pleased. But the "reason" Dean had used to bolster his courage was still there.
"And, I also realized there aren't many more days until Christmas. You gonna save that third date until next year?"
Oh shit. Dean couldn't breathe for a second. Had he really said that? Like they'd still be together or something next year—was that even possible?
Instead of mocking him, Tony laughed quietly. "Don't you worry. I haven't forgotten about that third date—you're not getting out of it that easy. I'll come up with something different for next year, but better be careful there, Mr. Murphy, or I might get the idea your stance on the holidays was wavering."
Dean let out a weak chuckle, too relieved that Tony might also be considering they'd be together next year to mount any sort of denial. Whatever day Tony sprang it on him, he'd be ready because he was looking forward to seeing what Tony had in mind.
They chatted for another few minutes before Tony's mom found him, and when they'd hung up, Dean's earlier good mood had returned twofold. He just had to make it through a few more days without having a holiday-themed meltdown and maybe, just maybe, Tony would stick. Dean didn't want to jinx it or anything, but if Tony was still around after the New Year, they could talk about starting a relationship.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AS DEAN DROVE the few minutes home, he was almost tempted to change the radio station to one of those all Christmas music channels, but honestly, he’d had enough already. Closing early on Christmas Eve was a joy for most of the employees working, and since Dean didn't have big gatherings or family get-togethers to look forward to, turning off that diabolical holiday soundtrack was always one of the biggest highlights of the day.
Although the rest of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day stretched before him, endless and lonely, the much-needed break was still welcome.
He and Tony had talked everyday since their last date, even if was only for a few minutes, but Tony never said another word about the third Christmas date, and Dean had too much pride to ask again. The possibility that Tony planned to save the date for the next year gave him hope, and kept him from despairing—much—that Tony had time off work too and wasn't going to be able to spend any of it with him.
They were forecasting a light snowfall later in the evening—maybe Dean would bundle up in one of his thick fleece blankets and sit on his balcony for a bit. Watching the lights as snow fell, especially on Christmas Eve when the neighbourhood was extra still and silent, soothed Dean. He had a feeling he might need more soothing than a horror movie could provide. He wanted to shore up his faith in Tony, but there was no getting around the fact he hadn't actually laid eyes on Tony since they'd had sex. The fact that he still hungered for Tony, even more than he had before, was annoying in and of itself, but the underlying insecurity that he'd been discarded after Tony had gotten in his pants made him want to scream every time he thought about it. And he couldn't stop thinking about it for long, like a sore tooth he couldn't stop prodding at.
On autopilot as he worried at the Tony toothache and tried to turn his thoughts to which Chinese restaurant he'd order dinner from the next day, he guided his car into its assigned spot in his apartment's parking lot.
After he got out and locked his car, he lifted his head, shock almost making him take a step back. Tony’s car was parked in the visitor’s lot with a casual Tony leaning against it, wearing a smug little grin.
"What are you doing here?"
"What were you thinking about so hard that it took you this long to notice me?"
Ha. Like Dean was going to answer that. Instead, he followed his first impulse and walked straight into Tony's arms. Tony must have been waiting for several minutes at least, because those talented lips were chilly when Dean captured them in a kiss.
All of Dean's insecurities melted away in the heat of Tony's enthusiastic and immediate response. He was so fucking thankful Tony had taken a few minutes out of his busy holiday schedule to meet him after work. Maybe Tony would have enough time to go upstairs and help him set up his new coffeemaker, test out the peppermint mocha.
Tony pulled back and kissed Dean's nose. It was a funny little habit of Tony's, but Dean was growing to crave them. They were almost platonic, "I like being with you" kisses, or "you matter to me" kisses, rather than "let's have sex" kisses. Dean wasn't sure he could remember anyone ever just kissing his cheek or nose or temple or the top of his head. Certainly, it spoke of an intimacy he'd never shared with any of his hookups or near-miss relationships. Maybe his mother had kissed him like that, once upon a time, but since he couldn't really remember much about her, he couldn't say for sure.
"I'm glad to see you but I figured I wouldn't be seeing you until the weekend." However briefly that may be. Dean's schedule didn't let up much until after New Year's Day.
"Oh, Mr. Murphy. You didn't think I'd forgotten about our third date, did you?"
Really? A Christmas Eve date? Dean did his best to ignore most of the holiday customs when he wasn't on the clock, but even he knew that smacked of a seriousness in Tony's intentions that Dean had only recently begun to hope for.
"Uh, well, I thought maybe there wasn't going to be time."
Tony shook his head sadly, as though wounded in Dean's lack of faith, but Dean knew him well enough already to realize he wasn't truly upset. "C'mon. Get in the car."
Dean blinked at him. "What?"
"You don't have, like, the oven on or anything, right? Crock pot heating up stew?"
That surprised a sputter of laughter out of Dean. "You know that I don't." All he had in his kitchen were some inexpensive canned and frozen foods, and an array of delivery menus. There really wasn't anything he needed from his apartment.
"Where are we going?"
"Just get in the car, Mr. Murphy. Stop trying to ruin my surprises."
This time, it was Dean shaking his head in exasperation. "It's supposed to snow later. Do I need anything?" The scarf and hat from their skating date were in his apartment, unexpected and much-appreciated little gifts from Tony, but he hadn't required the extra warmth in his short round trip to work, where he was outside for no more than about three minutes.
"Anything you need, I'll be able to provide." Tony's voice had dropped to that gut-tightening, ball-stroking tone, adding some serious innuendo to the innocent words. But from the little bits and pieces Tony had dropped about his family celebrations, he didn't think Tony would spend the night with him. Not tonight, even if Dean begged.
Dean opened his mouth to ask another question but he didn't really want to dissuade Tony from carrying out whatever plans he had. The night didn't look nearly as dreary as it had just ten minutes ago, and even if their date lasted an hour, it was more than he'd expected and a welcome surprise. In just a few short weeks, Tony had taught him that surprises could indeed be fun and good. He'd ordered his life in such a way that few found him, believing he'd be happier witho
ut them, but he'd been wrong.
In an unexpected maneuver, Tony drove them through a bunch of residential streets, never once aiming toward the highway, which meant their destination was close.
Ten minutes later, Tony parked the car in a driveway. Dean remained in his seat, looking at a house with a profusion of Christmas décor. Tiny lights illuminated Santa driving his sleigh, reindeer stretched out in front. Snowmen glittered as various lights flashed on and off on a random timer. Not a single bush or tree had escaped the Christmas decorating fairy. Through the sheer curtains in the front window, a tall pine tree, also covered in lights, stood, beckoning him inside. He wasn't sure how inanimate lights could be so welcoming but he wanted to go inside.
"What's here? Are we going to a party?" He couldn't think of any other reason to show up at someone's house on Christmas Eve.
“This is my mama’s house.”
Merry Christmas, Dean was gonna puke. “You want me to meet your mother? What the fuck, Tony?” Somehow, he forced the words past a throat closing in panic.
Tony fidgeted, not meeting his eyes. “Well, yes, of course I want you to meet my mama. But, yeah… so, maybe I didn’t mention, but I live here, too, for now.”
“Well, that explains why you keep showing up at my apartment.” Dean couldn’t avoid sounding snippy, but Tony had thrown him a giant unwelcome surprise.
At least, Tony had the sense to flush in embarrassment. “It’s not that big a deal. Italian families are pretty close. Most times, kids don’t move out until they get married. When I came back here, it seemed like a good idea. I’ve been looking around a bit, but I haven’t really made it a priority. I’m still not sure if I want to rent or buy or…” Tony trailed off, and Dean didn’t bother finding out if Tony had some third option he was considering. He already had too much new information to assimilate.
Okay. Okay. Despite freaking the fuck out, Dean could still understand that Tony wanting him to meet his mom was a good thing. In theory. If nothing else, it confirmed that Tony was serious about him, even if Dean would be perfectly happy never meeting the woman.
Dean sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “I can pop in for a bit. Say hello.” And if this was the sum total of Tony’s third “Christmas date” then Dean could call a cab and get the fuck out of there, chalking it up to the worst date ever.
Instead of responding, Tony got out, rounded the car, and opened Dean's door. He held out a hand and Dean took it, letting Tony help him out, right into Tony's arms. Tony pulled him close, and Dean started to get nervous. What more could Tony want from him that required softening him up with a hug first? Even weirder, when had Dean become a guy who got softened up by hugging? But he couldn’t deny Tony’s touch muted and soothed the panic.
Tony brushed lips across Dean's ear and spoke softly, "Please come in and spend Christmas with me and my family."
Dean's pulse began to race in an entirely not-fun way and sweat broke out on his palms as a whole different type of panic assailed him. A family Christmas. Surprise! Could he do that? He'd be an outsider, but then again, when wasn't he an outsider? But obviously, this was meant to be the date. Meeting mom was merely a happy accident. Dean grimaced, his face buried in Tony’s scarf-covered neck, and sniffed subtly. How could the asshole smell so fucking good when he was asking for so much?
"Please," Tony whispered again. Dean waffled between insisting Tony take him home—forget meeting mom—and giving in to the third date that Tony so clearly wanted. The hand Tony brought up to cup Dean's head trembled slightly and that was enough to weigh Dean's decision in favour of staying.
Dean wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, making sure he didn’t move. After several minutes of standing, silent, in Tony’s arms, letting the embrace calm him down, he finally lifted his head and cleared his throat.
"I'll stay. But... you don’t mean sleeping here, too, do you?”
“Yeah. I do.”
Was that even normal? It would be so much easier to say no if he didn’t care what Tony thought. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when making Tony happy started to matter so much to him, nor when doing so made him happy, too, but that was the only explanation for why he was going through with this madness.
“Then you should have let me grab some stuff from my apartment."
Finally, Tony leaned back, giving Dean a few visual cues, and all he could see was joy. "Nah. Didn't want to risk you getting all settled in at your apartment. I've got a spare toothbrush for you and I've got sweats you can sleep in."
Oh good. Because the last thing he was going to do was sleep nude in Tony's mom's house. He’d rather walk home in sock feet.
"I don't understand why we're starting now. I mean, I could have come over tomorrow."
Teasing, confident Tony had returned with a roll of his eyes. "Uh-huh. If I hadn't basically kidnapped you in the parking lot, what are the odds you'd have driven over here if I'd called and asked you over for Christmas dinner?"
It didn't take much to realize Tony was right. Standing in his familiar, comfortable apartment, Dean would have let his fear and years of dislike sway him to a big, fat no. Hell, he was a breath away from saying no, and they were already in the driveway.
"Okay, yeah, maybe you're right."
Tony was gracious enough to let him get by with the equivocation. "Anyway, Christmas celebration starts tonight in the Delvecchio house. So, you had to come today. Nicki and the girls will be over later for dinner, and they may or may not stay overnight, too. Depends on moods and all."
So Tony had brought him to a Christmas party, just one that apparently lasted twenty-four hours and was full of family, kids, and holiday cheer. It would be a Christmas miracle if he escaped tomorrow with his sanity intact. Stupid feelings. If he weren’t falling for Tony in a big way, he wouldn't have risked it for a minute.
He took a deep breath. "Just remember my one rule. I'm not watching A Christmas Story."
Tony laughed. "Someone's going to insist we turn it on, but I promise we don't have to hang out by the TV while it's on."
A gust of wind swept by, probably heralding the front that was bringing in the forecasted snow.
"Let's get inside before our bits freeze off," Tony said with a theatrical shiver. “Trust me. It will be fine.”
Dean let Tony lead him inside.
* * *
A REGAL LOOKING woman wearing an apron, slightly on the plump side, bustled out of the kitchen while they were taking off their shoes in the foyer. It wasn’t hard to tell she was Tony’s mom, and Dean’s heart rate picked up again. Then she smiled, softening her features and reaching her eyes. This was no fake smile, not like the ones he’d seen on his foster mother. It was enough to keep his freak out on a slow simmer rather than ramping it up to a full boil.
“Ah, you must be Tony’s Dean. I’m so pleased to meet you.” Before Dean could quite figure out what was going on, she’d grabbed his face and gave him a loud smacking kiss on each cheek.
“Mama. Don’t scare Dean away.”
“Feh. What’s scary about your old mama? Right, Dean?” She tapped his nose, while his fight-or-flight response remained oddly stuck on “deer in the headlights”.
Nevertheless, he managed a short nod. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Delvecchio.” Was it tomorrow yet?
“Call me Mama, I answer to that. Or Maria.”
“Uh, thank you.” He still used honorifics with regular customers at the store who he’d known for years. Neither Mama nor Maria seemed likely to pass his lips.
“Did you need any help?”
Dean hoped Tony wasn’t including him in the volunteer work, because if he thought a family Christmas was scary, it’d be nothing on spending the night at the hospital because he’d sliced a finger off.
“No, no. You go sit down. Entertain our guest. Nicki will be over soon, and I’ll get the bambini to help out. Only small things are left. Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half.”
Kids too. He’d almost forgotten,
but then, he usually did okay with kids. At least, until they got old enough to work for him.
Tony grabbed his hand and led him down the hall to a cozy room with the Christmas tree in the front window. Along the exterior wall was a fireplace that already had a fire burning merrily, and in the corner was a large television.
“This is a great living room.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “No, this is the family room.”
“What’s the difference?”
“My mother’s got all the good furniture swaddled in plastic in the living room. We’ll be allowed in there tomorrow, when Nicki’s in-laws come over. We’ll be in the formal dining room tonight, though.”
He had no idea what to say in response to that, so he sat on one side of the couch.
“What can I expect? I mean, is there an agenda?”
Tony sat beside him and pulled him close, wrapping an arm around him. “Tonight’s a sort of traditional dinner, with seven different fish dishes.”
“Uh. That’s traditional, is it?”
“For Christmas Eve dinner, yeah. Tomorrow there will be turkey and potatoes and all that, but also pastas and antipasto and stuff like that. Wait. You like fish, don’t you?”
Dean shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out. I haven’t had occasion to try it very often.” Probably fish sandwiches at fast food places didn’t really count, and they’d never eaten fish on any of their dates.
“Okay, well, if you hate it, there will be plenty of other snacks to fill up on. Anyway, dinner usually ends with enough time to do the dishes and set the dining room table for tomorrow before we head out to the church.”
“Church?”
“Yeah. Midnight Mass. It’s usually the only time I set foot in church. It makes Mama happy.”
Dean lurched off the couch, his heart pounding again. “Take me home. I have to go home.”
Tony leapt up, but he didn’t try to touch Dean. Which was good, because Dean might just shatter. Or possibly scream.
“What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t going to work. I have to leave.” He tried to keep his voice down, though. He didn’t want Tony’s mom wondering what was going on, or even worse, coming to check on them.