Christmas Spirit: with More Christmas Spirits

by David Connor

  “You think?”

  “Honestly? No. But from what my dad said, I’d deny it. Here, in your arms, in self-awareness mode, I can see it, though. I got a DUI, dude. There’s a clue, right? How fucked up was I to drive like that? I was a stupid kid, young still, and that makes me think maybe I have a handle on it, because I’m older. But I’ve been a stupid adult plenty of times too. Not behind the wheel, but in other ways. Getting drunk to have a good time with people I wouldn’t hang out with sober, getting drunker to fuck them because I wouldn’t fuck them sober… I drink a lot now when there’s nothing else to do. Since I don’t do much of anything, I guess that means I drink a lot. I worked at A&P Wednesday through Sunday. I’d start drinking Sunday nights some weeks and never stop ’til Tuesday afternoon, in time to straighten up to go back. That’s not normal.”

  “How about when you were decorating? Did you, like, take a beer on the roof with you?”

  “No. I didn’t. Good point, Kipster. I guess that explains why a twelver lasted so long that week and not so long the next. I wasn’t drinking when I wrecked my second car, either.”

  “No?”

  “Nope. I was dragging around the A&P parking lot in the snow—for kicks. Hello light post.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “I’m still glad—and you need a hobby.”

  Aidan laughed. “You think?”

  “You get in trouble when you’re bored.”

  “Whenever I was bored at SUNY-A, I had anal sex.”

  “There’s a hobby we can share.” I made him laugh again. It still made me happy. I tugged at his plaid shorts. “Hey. Why don’t you take these off?”

  “For why?”

  “Because you never wear pants, except when company’s coming.”

  “Unless you’re the company.”

  “I’m the only company now.”

  “Another good point.” Aidan lifted his butt off the couch, took down his shorts, and kicked them off the tip of one foot. “You next.” He stood then, and I didn’t argue. I stripped down to underwear, shirt and all. Then I got to my feet and took his shirt off of him. I brought it to my face. “Mmm. Grown up cologne?”

  “Yup.” Aidan stretched. He made a sexy groaning sound. “I guess I’ll turn in, then.” On tiptoe, he smooched my cheek. “’Night, Kip.”

  I stood there stunned. “Whoa! What? It’s barely ten, dude!”

  “I don’t trust myself around you almost naked.” He raised his palms. “And we can’t have sex.”

  “Wh-y-y?” I whined like I was four.

  “Same reason as before.”

  I waited until Aidan was down the hall, then looked up toward the ceiling. “Where the heck are you when I need you?” I whisper-shouted. “He wants a sign, and suddenly you’re… what… last minute Christmas shopping for Neil Armstrong and Isaac Asimov?” I went to the kitchen. I picked up the Shelf Elf that somehow got atop the refrigerator. “Look, Dr. Wise, no disrespect intended,” I said to it. “I just don’t get you! This morning you were as chatty as a sorority. Now, you’ve clammed up completely. What gives?” The elf was silent. I was so ticked I almost chucked it. Then I thought better of it, and gently placed him on the secretary desk. “If you can hear me still, do something.” I waited several seconds. Nothing happened, so I headed to my room. “Aidan?”

  He opened the bathroom door. “Yah.” He had a mouthful of white foam and his toothbrush handle stuck out between his frothy lips. Aidan was a sloppy tooth brusher. He was also naked, the boxers on the floor behind him.

  “Stupid question,” I said. “Did you take the Shelf Elf out of the cupboard?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “He was on top of the fridge.”

  Aidan removed his toothbrush. “I didn’t do it.”

  “Hmm. I put him on the desk.” I looked him up and down. Then I took off my underpants, and he did the same to me.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why’d you put him on the desk?”

  We talked to various body parts. Our eyes never locked on each other’s. “No reason. I just… did.”

  “Ah. Well… good night, then.” Aidan went to shut the door.

  “Wait,” I suddenly said. “I at least get a goodnight kiss, don’t I?”

  Aidan stepped into the hallway. He rose to tiptoe and I bent down just a little. He kissed me, toothpaste foam and all. It made my crotch tingled and my heart skipped a beat. I wanted him closer, so both of those spots on me would touch him. “See you in the morning, Kipster.”

  I didn’t get my wish. “Yeah. See ya.” I headed back to my room.

  “Wait.” When I turned, Aidan stepped into the hallway and picked up my boxer briefs. “Don’t forget these.” He tossed them.

  “You keep ‘em.” I tossed them back.

  “Nice. Sweet dreams.”

  The bathroom door closed.

  “Frick!”

  I typed a text to my sister, telling her all about the day, the kiss I’d just had, and the conditions of Aidan and I becoming a full-fledged couple, saving the dirtier parts for my journal. She wished me good luck. When the bathroom light went out, I took my turn. Aidan’s underwear was still on the floor, and I figured he must have taken mine to bed. I was brushing my teeth with the boxers under my armpit when I heard the unmistakable thud-thud-thud of a masturbatory elbow against the wall. I peered out the door to see if Aidan had maybe left his open, even just a crack—or maybe all the way—as means of an invitation. I could see his shadow and the movement of his arm. I could see him arch his back and lift his rear-end off the bed, his weight supported by his shoulders and his feet. The door was open, purposely or not, and I enjoyed the exhibition. I put on Aidan’s boxers. His waist was so small I could barely get them up over my hips. I managed, though, and I reached through the fly and started stroking myself inside them.

  I listened for Aidan’s heavy breaths. I tried to hear him moan. The AC was too loud, but the rhythmic taps against the connecting wall were loud and clear, at least. They came quicker now. Aidan had to know I could hear them. He was going to come soon—and so was I.

  Backed against the doorjamb, I let it part my butt cheeks. I was ready, but I paused, because I wanted to wait for Aidan.

  Within minutes, he bucked, like a mechanical bull. Just as his shadowy form rose higher off the mattress, the thuds against the wall ceased, and I knew he was holding his breath, holding back, so the sensation all over his body could last a moment longer before he released.

  “Ahhhhhh!”

  I heard that, and it made me come. I soaked the front of Aidan’s underpants with semen. I put my hand there, and when I felt the hotness against it, I pretended the heat was all his. By the time I remembered to worry about what sort of sound I might have made, it was too late. My heart was pounding. I was sweating. My legs were shaking, and my hand and the front of Aidan’s boxers were wet with cum.

  “Wrap those up and put them under the tree for me,” Aidan called out.

  Crud! It should have occurred to me to realize; if I could see him, he could see me—especially since I’d left the light on. “I’m, um, gonna shower. Will it keep you awake?”

  “Only the mental images. Sleep tight, Kipster.”

  “You, too.”

  I half-expected Aidan to join me in the shower, so I stayed in until the water ran cold. He never did. I called him pigheaded too.

  7

  We prepared coffee to take out to the pond the next morning after staying in separate beds way past ten. Neither of us had put anything on, so whatever that meant… that’s what it meant. “I wanna bake a gift for each of the A. Ashers,” Aidan said. “I have a bunch of cookbooks that used to belong to Grams. We baked together. She called me ‘Cookie.”

  “Aww, Cookie.”

  Aidan opened the secretary desk for the books. When the little stuffed elf fell out, he jumped. “Damn it!”

  I smirked.
Aidan kicked the little feller under the desk and spun on me, his eyes accusatory. “What the fuck! Did you put him in there?” he asked.

  “Uh-uh.” He shot me a look—a scowl, but way cuter. “I swear I left him on top.”

  I could tell he was trying to fight it, but a smile won and slowly spread across his lips. “Look, Kipster. You and I, as immature as I can be, both know this stupid inanimate elf is not moving around the kitchen all by himself.”

  “It wasn’t me.” I raised two fingers as an oath of truth.

  “That’s a peace sign.”

  I added a third. “Boy Scout’s honor.”

  I gasped then, and Aidan almost spilled hot coffee on his bare foot because of it. “I know!”

  “Know what?” he asked, at the fridge door for ice.

  “That’s the message!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The sign!” I yanked him close and folded his nakedness into my arms. He spilled his lukewarm coffee on my tummy and bare legs, but I didn’t care in the least. “It’s a message from your grandfather.”

  “Seriously, dude?” Aidan shoved me away. It wasn’t an angry shove, but it was definitely a shove. “How is that a sign? Why the elf of all things?”

  “Did it have special meaning? Maybe when you were a kid?”

  “No. It was just one of those things everyone has, so we got one. It’s just another decoration.”

  “Has it ever moved around on its own before?”

  I got the cute scowl again for that one. “Uh. No. Wherever we put it the day after Thanksgiving, that’s where it was on New Year’s, when we packed stuff away.”

  “Well, see then?”

  “See what?’

  “This year is special. Your grampy is doing it.”

  “You’re cute, but fucking nuts.” Aidan walked away.

  “Maybe not.”

  “Why not something more meaningful? His stocking... Why doesn’t he hang his stocking? I can’t even find the stockings, his or mine. Or the star he made... If something happened with that, I’d be like, ‘Okay, Kipster, that’s a sign.’” Aidan went out the door. I followed, nearly bumping naked fronts when he suddenly turned around and raised a finger. “And don’t say it won’t light. Because if that’s a sign, it’s a shitty one.”

  “I still think there’s something to the elf. He chose it because...” I thought on the fly. “Because you’re short!”

  “Nice!” Aidan kept walking.

  “It’s not an insult, Aidan. You’re perfect, but you’re… short.”

  “It’s not a sign.”

  I almost told him about the voice right then and there. I didn’t. If he thought the elf thing was nuts—or worse yet, that I was making it up—telling him I heard his grandfather’s voice was not going to fly. We settled in beside the water, where I flipped through one of the cookbooks while Aidan put sunscreen on my back. “Croissants?” he mused. Aidan was liberal with both the lotion and his hands. “Your ass reminds me of the shape.”

  My buttocks looked like French pastries? Okay. I could handle that.

  “Roll over. Let me get the front.”

  I did, despite my hard-on.

  “Your six-pack reminds me of hot cross buns, but those are for Easter.”

  “Where in heck do I have anything close to a six-pack?” I’d started working out with a group of teachers after school—yoga, cardio, and some weights—but that was ridiculous.

  “Right there.” Aidan traced some lines on my tummy. My nooner-boner was in the way toward the bottom. “I know,” he said, working around it, brushing against it. “How about éclairs?”

  “How did you ever work as a baker without sporting a constant woody?”

  “Let’s just say my apron came in handy.”

  I put my hand upon Aidan’s, which was resting on my erection. “My body… it’s okay?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  “I’ve always been a little self-conscious about it. All of it.” I moved my touch to his erection. “Yours is bigger.”

  “I love your body, Kip. If I didn’t, I’d be all over it.” Aidan gently moved my hand away from his dick. “Try making sense outta that.”

  “I get it.” I did.

  “Stollen!”

  “What was?”

  “No, goof.” Aidan rolled over and reached for a cookbook. I finally got to see the part of him I so badly wanted to see, touch, taste, and enter. “It’s like fruit cake, only… not. Stollen.” He’d added the “H” sound after the S. “Grams made it every Christmas when I was little. ‘No one wants fruit cake, Cookie,’ she’d say. ‘Not even a good one. This is better.’”

  “Cookie.” I smiled at that again.

  Aidan tapped an open page, and then stood. “This is it. Come on. We need to go shopping.”

  I grumbled as I stood. Watching Cookie and his better stuff walk away was frustrating as all get out. If I’d had longer hair, I would have pulled it out.

  The last thing I did before we left for the supermarket, and first thing I did when we returned, was check for the Shelf Elf under the desk. He was still there. Aidan put me to work chopping candied fruit and nuts that we’d soak in orange juice. Rum was another option, but considering Aaron Asher’s revelation the night before, we figured OJ was best.

  “I wanted a beer so bad last night.” Maybe Aidan was reading my mind.

  “Did you have one? Is it okay if I ask?”

  “No. And of course it’s okay if you ask. That’s another time I usually down a few… when I can’t sleep for shit.”

  “I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “I was thinking about calling someone. I mean, I won’t be staying down here forever. Maybe I should wait until I get back to New York.”

  “I think you should call down here, if you think you need to.”

  “Yeah.”

  I hugged him. “Next time you can’t fall asleep, come to my room. I can cuddle with you.”

  “Cuddling with you was what sent me to bed so early.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m kidding.”

  “Oh.” I pinged a pecan shell off his forehead.

  “Ow.”

  They were kind of hard.

  “Well, once we both… you know… did what we did last night,” I said, “maybe we would have been way less… you know... and cuddling would have just been comforting, like back in your dorm room a year ago.” I took him in my arms from behind and wished we had stripped off again after our shopping trip. We started rocking back and forth—the sex dance, again.

  “I will… tonight,” Aidan said. “If I can’t fall asleep, I’ll call the support number and I’ll come talk to you.”

  “We could just sleep in the same bed to start. Lie together, but nothing else.”

  “’Cause that was working so well out by the pond.” Aidan’s phone rang. “You got a nooner boner from sunscreen.” Aidan grabbed his cell. “Horn dog.” He kissed my chin. Then we had to separate.

  “So did you!” I defended my honor and my nooner boner. Aidan retorted by sticking out his tongue before answering his phone.

  “Hey, dad.”

  I was impressed by the civilized tone.

  “Can I put ya on speaker? Kip and I are baking.”

  Mr. Asher must have given the okay. The next thing I heard was, “Hi, Kip.”

  I was getting used to “Kip”. I felt like a Kip around Aidan. “Hello, Mr. Asher.”

  “Aaron, please.”

  “Okay. Hello, Aaron.”

  “I wanted to see what time you guys wanted to come by Christmas morning,” Aaron said.

  “Late morning? Brunch-ish time?” Aidan looked my way and I nodded.

  “Perfect,” Aaron said. “Alec can’t wait to hang with you.”

  “He’s a cool little dude… Grandpa Asher.”

  “Hey.” Aaron chuckled.

  “Dad… can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you, um, go
to AA meetings?” Aidan looked at me and scrunched up his face. I nodded as a sign of support.

  “I do, Aidan. Yes.”

  “Are you going while down here?”

  “Everywhere I go. Every day. It’s necessary, at least for me. One of the first things I do when I plan on traveling is look for a schedule, for a site. Why do you ask?”

  “Could I… maybe…”

  I stepped up behind Aidan and put my hand in the small of his back. He smiled at me.

  “Could I come with you next time?”

  “Yeah. I guess you can.” Aaron seemed hesitant. “If you need to.”

  Aidan huffed. “Ya know what, just forget it.” He must have heard the reluctant tone too.

  “Aidan—”

  “Never mind.” Aidan cut off his dad. His tone was pissed off. “See you on Christmas.” He picked up his phone, shut it off, and slammed it on the counter. “Asshole.” The cell rang again immediately.

  “Answer it,” I encouraged.

  “No. Why?”

  “Because. Let him explain.”

  Aidan did. “What?” He paced. “Oh.” He left the room.

  I picked up the Shelf Elf while he was gone and looked around for the perfect spot to put him. I settled on the counter beside the back door, just as Aidan was coming back into the room. “This time it was me. No magic, no weirdness.” I hoped levity might ease any tension left over from the phone call.

  Aidan smiled back at me. “He was afraid I wouldn’t be able to be completely open in front of him. He thought maybe I’d rather go with… the lesbian.”

  “Ainsley.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s a good thing, then.”

  “It is. He told me I should stop reacting before I know the whole story.” Aidan shrugged. “He’s not wrong.” I hugged him again, and then we kissed longer and louder than two guys not having sex should kiss. “We better get back to work,” Aidan said. When he pulled away, I licked his saliva from my lips. That was all I would get of him, it seemed.

  I described the chemical reactions of yeast as Aidan worked on the stollen dough and I chopped more fruit and nuts. “It’s a fungus. You’re doing science over there. Enzymes in the flour and yeast cause the large starch molecules to break down into simple sugars. The yeast metabolizes these sugars and exudes a liquid that releases carbon dioxide and ethyl alcohol into the existing bubble. Baking is science, actually. It’s all about—”