by KC Burn
Tony’s face crumpled, and Dean wanted to take the words back but he couldn’t. They were true, and he should have known better. He should have known this was too good to be true. That Tony was too good to be true.
“Please, talk to me, Dean. Let me know what’s going on in your head. Relationships are give and take, and I know I’ve been pushing the whole Christmas thing on you, but I want this to work. If there’s anything we can compromise on, let’s do that.” Tony reached for him, but Dean took a step back. Not quite a flinch but almost. Tony let his hands drop, but his sincerity and… desperation shone through.
“I can’t… I don’t…” He didn’t tell people. Of course, it had been a long time since anyone had wanted to know.
“Dean, please. I think I’m falling for you. I know it’s quick, but I can see you’re hurting and it’s killing me.”
Dean closed his eyes and let his head drop forward. “Don’t you see? This can never work. The reason there are no pictures in my apartment? Because I have no parents. No family. No real friends, even. My parents died in a gas-leak explosion when I was five. They owned a stationary shop in a strip mall. We lived in the apartment on the second floor. I was at school when it happened. There was nothing left. No photos.”
“Oh, my God, Dean. I’m so sorry.”
Dean couldn’t let Tony comfort him. Not now. “I was put into foster care with a family who were strictly religious. There weren’t Christmas celebrations or birthday celebrations. They never signed the fucking permission slips for me to go on school trips. They made me a freak at school. There was only prayer and punishment, along with the bare minimum as required by law. I left as soon as I could, had scholarships for university, but I was still a fucking freak who couldn’t make friends. Who didn’t know how to relate to people. I don’t know what’s normal, but I know I can’t go to church. Not even for you.”
Probably, he shouldn’t blame the church, but he’d spent so long equating religion with misery, he avoided it all. Even interacting with his customers was more a pretense than any real ability to connect. Tony was the closest he’d ever come, and already it was ending. Tomorrow, he’d be alone again.
His breath came in hitching gasps as he finished, and then, despite all his previous efforts to avoid it, he started sobbing. Jamming a fist in his mouth didn’t silence his tears, and he turned away blindly, hoping he was heading in the right direction for the front door.
Tony’s hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around into Tony’s arms. Another habit he shouldn't get used to.
“Jesus, Dean,” Tony whispered as he rubbed Dean’s back.
After a few helpless minutes where his emotions ran rampant over all his attempts to control them, the sobs finally eased off and he sniffled a little, not wanting Tony to let him go, but it wasn’t like they could stand like that forever.
Tony pulled away just long enough to grab a box of tissues. After Dean wiped at his face, Tony guided him back to the couch.
“Come on, babe. Sit down. Let’s talk for a minute. I’m not going to make you go to church. I’ll skip it too.”
“But won’t your mother be angry?”
“No. I’ll tell her a little bit, if you don’t mind, but she’ll understand, I promise.”
“Don’t you see? This is never going to work.”
Tony squeezed him tight. “I am so sorry for what you went through, but I don’t think you’re a freak. And I still want to make this work.”
With a little pat on the leg, Tony stood up and started pacing a little. Dean scrunched the damp, tattered tissue in his fist, waiting for the metaphorical blow to fall. No matter what Tony said, surely he was just trying to come up with a way to let him down easy.
“I wanted you to give Christmas a try. I did. I still do. But I don’t want you to undergo any sort of major trauma trying to make me happy.”
Tony paused and bit his lip, flicking a glance in Dean’s direction before speaking again. “I know this is crazy soon, but I’ve always been quick to act. You can ask my mama if you want. But I knew as soon as I met you that you were someone special. Someone I wanted to get to know. And now that I know you better, I can’t imagine you not being in my life. And not tomorrow or anything, but someday soon—”
Tony broke off and shook his head like he couldn’t find the words for what he wanted to say. He shifted before he sat down on the couch, one leg tucked up under him so he could more easily look at Dean. Then he grabbed Dean’s hand and threaded their fingers together. Dean didn’t know how Tony’s hands could feel so warm when his own were as cold as if he’d plunged them into a snowbank.
Tony took a deep breath and started again. "I'm thirty-five. I've banged guys and never known their names. I've dated. I've hooked up. But family is important to me, and I've always known I wanted something real and lasting and committed. I want it with you. It was fate, or something like it, that led me into your store that day, and I'm not going to ignore all the signs that said you were the one I've been waiting for. Maybe it’s just me being superstitious, and you don’t have to believe it’s true, but I believe. I believe you were my very own little Christmas miracle. I don’t have any friends around here anymore, either. And no matter what happens, I will be here for you. I promise. But… but… I have to tell you, I’m hoping by next year that we’ll be leaving our apartment or home, one we live in together, to come here and celebrate Christmas with my family. And it doesn’t have to include church. I promise you. Maybe sometimes I go on my own with my mama, and some years we’ll stay here together, alone, like we will tonight.
“I’m falling in love with you, Dean.” Tony squeezed his hand tighter and waited. Dean couldn’t look at him, not yet, so he stared at the flickering flames, letting them lull him into an almost fugue state.
He stood on a precipice, and over the edge, the rest of his life lay empty and cold, alone, yawning and ready to swallow him whole. He wasn't sure which was more terrifying—continuing on as he had until he died alone, surrounded by cats, or taking a chance that someone else wouldn't leave. Tony wasn’t even just a random “someone”. Losing him today or years from now would be devastating.
Gambling had never seemed sensible to him, but maybe this was a risk he had to take. Even a short while of having warmth, comfort, and maybe even love with Tony would be worth delaying that yawning abyss. One day, he might have to face the abyss again, but he didn't have to willingly immerse himself in its cold depths today. Not when Tony was waiting, arms and heart open to him.
“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” Dean whispered.
The sound of a choked sob made him turn, only to see a tear on Tony’s cheek. He reached out and wiped it away, and Tony smiled tremulously at him before kissing him.
The kiss was tender and sweet. Familiar and different from those Tony had given him before. But somehow, Dean knew it was a promise to each other. A declaration and hope for the future.
All too soon, Tony lifted his lips. He swiped his thumbs along Dean’s cheekbones. “Your poor eyes. I’m going to go grab you a cool cloth to take down some of the swelling.”
Dean’s flush was almost painful as blood flooded his already sensitive tissues. He’d forgotten how red and swollen his eyes could get when crying; he’d spent a long time training himself not to wallow in tears because they almost always resulted in taunts from schoolmates.
But Tony wasn’t like those kids from so long ago. Or his foster parents, who responded to emotional outbursts with scripture quotes. This was his… boyfriend. If Dean could believe everything Tony said, and oh how he wanted to, this was his future husband. Maybe there was a little magic in Christmas after all.
* * *
LATER THAT NIGHT, they were back on the couch, bellies full. Dean had enjoyed most of the dishes they’d eaten for dinner, and found meeting Nicki and her daughters to be a lot less terrifying than meeting Mrs. Delvecchio. Tony had been very discreet in letting his mother know neither of them were going
to attend church. Aside from a teary hug from her, nothing more was said on the subject, but he got the impression Mrs. Delvecchio would try mothering him as much as she could.
Who knew? Maybe next year, he’d be calling her Mama like she’d asked. Nevertheless, he’d been relieved when the family bundled themselves up and left to attend the midnight mass. In the wake of the family chaos, he and Tony sat together on the couch, grinning foolishly at each other in between noisy, close-mouthed kisses. Nothing designed to get their motors revving—this was still Tony’s mom’s place—but little demonstrations of their happiness.
Happiness. He’d been content before meeting Tony, but now he knew he deserved happiness too, and he wasn’t going to let it ever be a foreign concept in his life again.
“Your tree is beautiful.” Completely eclectic and nothing like the decorations they’d seen when they’d gone downtown to the Eaton Centre. Instead, they were haphazard and homey. In other words, perfect.
“Thanks. I’m hoping next year we’ll have our own decorations, but as long as we can make it a tradition to come and help decorate my mama’s tree with my family, that will be good.”
Dean nodded. “I think I can commit to that.”
Tony gave him another quick kiss. “So tell me, what do you normally do on Christmas? Nothing’s open, really. More movies?”
“Yeah, movies. Usually a marathon. Sometimes, I spend the day reading. It’s actually kind of relaxing after the craziness of work. And not everything is closed. There’s a Chinese restaurant not far that is not only open but will deliver on Christmas.”
A smothered laugh escaped Tony. “Um. You have Chinese food for Christmas dinner? Like, every year?”
Dean shrugged. “Yes. I do. What’s funny about that?”
This time, Tony didn’t even try to smother the laugh. “You really haven’t seen all of A Christmas Story, have you?”
Oh for fuck’s sake. “Don’t tell me. Somehow they end up eating Chinese food for Christmas.”
Tony tapped him on the nose, and he rolled his eyes.
“Tomorrow, after presents and before dinner, the girls are going to watch A Christmas Story from beginning to end. It’s a tradition, and I’d really like it if you watched, at least once. You might not hate it.”
Maybe he wouldn’t. After all, there was a lot about Tony’s Christmas that he loved. “Fine. I’ll give you once… wait. Presents?”
Shit, shit, shit. Presents were expected, weren’t they?
“Don’t panic. I know this is all new to you. I got you a little something to open tomorrow, but I’m not expecting anything, and no one will think it weird you didn’t get anything for me.”
Although he appreciated Tony trying to put him at ease, Dean remembered his shopping trip on the weekend. “Actually, I guess I got you something, too.”
There was no disguising the shocked delight in Tony’s eyes. “Really? Damn it, I guess I should have let you grab stuff from your apartment.”
“Well, it’s not much. But I bought a new coffee maker and syrups to make peppermint mochas. I thought… maybe, we could practice making them for ourselves.”
Dean would never get sick of seeing that wide, happy smile of Tony’s.
“That’s perfect. I can’t wait to try it out. Thank you.” Tony kissed him before bouncing off the couch and grabbed a box wrapped in red foil from under the tree. “Here. Open it now, and we can tell my mama we exchanged presents tonight. We can make that another tradition, just for us.”
Dean couldn’t keep his eyes from tearing up again, but he managed to keep from out-and-out crying. Although he couldn’t remember what his parents looked like, he definitely had warm fuzzy memories of being loved. If they’d lived, he’d probably have had a lifetime of presents and memories, but he couldn’t recall any actual gifts anyone had given him.
His fingers shook as he opened the wrapping. Inside the box was a set of hat, scarf, and mittens, crimson in colour, and made out of some sort of super-soft, nubbly yarn. They’d go perfectly with his pea jacket.
“Thank you. I love them.”
Tony’s cheeks darkened then he grinned wickedly. “You wanna make out for a bit before my mama comes home?”
Dean laughed. This was something else he’d never done. By the time he'd started making out with guys, he was well out of his foster parents’ house and never had to worry about getting caught by anyone else’s parents. “Okay, but not too long. I don’t want your mom to hate me.”
Tony lost his teasing expression. “I promise you, she wouldn’t hate you. Not when you make me so happy.”
Dean leaned in and kissed Tony. With words like that, how could he not?
Best Christmas ever.
EPILOGUE
DEAN HADN'T BEEN able to stop whistling or smiling. Normally, Boxing Day was almost the worst day of them all. It was every bit as busy as the days leading up to Christmas, but combined with trying to arrange everything "holiday" into appropriate sales and discounts, and then add in the exhaustion of weeks of overtime.
Yeah, his body was worn out, but the happy buzz in his blood energized him more than buckets of coffee, and intoxicated more than alcohol. The high of belonging somewhere might fade, but he was sure it wouldn't ever disappear.
"Good morning, Sydney. Morning, Jenna." Dean greeted the incoming cashiers with a cheery wave before he bent down and rearranged a box of red and green ribbon, and glass ornaments.
“Fragile” had been imprinted on the side and Dean smiled, reminded of the movie Tony had talked him into watching. Maybe he’d let Tony make a few more movie recommendations. A Christmas Story was actually good, but he’d have to limit viewings to once per year.
The two teenagers headed to the staff room to drop off their stuff. They probably thought they were out of earshot when they spoke, but Dean heard them anyway.
"O. M. G. You were right. He's almost like a different person. Scrooge McAsshole disappeared at the stroke of midnight on Christmas," Jenna said.
Dean bit his lip against a sputter of laughter. Any other time, he'd have probably reprimanded them but he really was in a great mood, and the nickname was a little amusing.
Sydney scoffed. "Well, yeah, he'll be fine now, but it'll start up again just before Valentine's. He's just got a hate-on for holidays or something."
He'd probably surprise them both when February rolled around. He suspected he might enjoy Valentine's Day, if he gave it a chance, although he didn't think anything could top Christmas of this year. But he was happy to keep trying and he even had a few ideas for future holiday dates he could surprise Tony with. With his own Christmas miracle and the awakening of his fledgling faith and trust, he could see long years ahead in the company of a man he'd fallen for over the space of a few weeks. It gave him the courage to plan ahead, to believe there were people in this world who wouldn't leave, and the newfound lightness in his heart made room for future holiday date ideas. Didn't even have to be anything extravagant. Tony and Dean, living their life together, was the best present he could ask for.
* * *
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KC Burn has been writing for as long as she can remember and is a sucker for happy endings (of all kinds). After moving from Toronto to Florida for her husband to take a dream job, she discovered a love of gay romance and fulfilled a dream of her own -- getting published. After a few years of editing web content by day, and neglecting her supportive, understanding hubby and needy cat at night to write stories about men loving men, she was uprooted yet again and now resides in California. Writing is always fun and rewarding, but writing about her guys is the most fun she’s had in a long time, and she hopes you’ll enjoy them as much as she does.
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Find out more about KC and her books at:
@authorkcburn
authorkcburn
www.kcburn.com
[email protected]
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Sci-Fi
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Paranormal
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Blood Relations (MIA Case Files #2)
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Anthologies
“The Jogger” in Grand Adventures
“The Tithe” in One Pulse