by Ruby Moone
Jack squirmed around until they were facing each other. He leaned down and kissed him softly, then pulled away.
“Hello, boyfriend,” he whispered against Michael’s lips.
Michael’s heart felt too big. “Hello, boyfriend,” he whispered back and kissed him.
Jack pulled back and smiled, head on one side as though considering. “It’s agony in the office, you know.”
Michael frowned. “Why? I’ve not given anything, away have I?” He thought about Carla’s words. Once Christmas was out of the way, they were going to have to address the situation. God alone knew what they would do, but there was nothing on God’s earth that could make him give up the man in his arms.
“No, you’ve not changed a bit. It’s just that every time I look at you, I want to come in the office, sit on your lap, open your flies and…”
Michael groaned and closed his eyes. “Shit… Don’t put that in my head. I’ll never be able to work again without thinking of that.” Michael was instantly hard.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it?”
Michael laughed, but it was more of a groan. “I might have.”
“What did you think about? Fucking me over the desk?” Jack wriggled against him.
“Might have,” Michael whispered.
“Well,” Jack said, nipping at Michael’s mouth, “I might want to fuck you over the desk. I might want your pants round your ankles, with me fully clothed, fucking you hard.”
Michael’s chest seized. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Just the thought…
Jack nibbled his lips. “Then, you can shag me over the photocopier.”
Michael burst out laughing. “Christ. I’m going to have to get a new office.”
They kissed some more.
“Will you come home with me for Christmas Day?” Michael rubbed gentle circles over Jack’s backside, going back to their earlier conversation.
Jack propped his elbows on Michael’s chest. “Do you want me to?”
Michael nodded.
Jack leaned down and kissed him. “Then I will.”
Michael pressed harder, pushing Jack’s groin against his, making him moan and his breathing pick up. Jack pushed until Michael was lying flat on the sofa. He lay back willingly and surrendered to Jack’s marauding hands and mouth. He was usually the one on top, so this was…delicious.
Michael had never felt happier in his entire life. Never had Christmas trees seemed so beautiful, never had the prospect of shopping seemed so much fun but doing things with Jack were always fun somehow. He threw himself at life, at everything he did, with such abandon it was a joy to behold. The frightened, reserved person that had arrived for an interview two months ago was transforming into a beautiful, vibrant man.
Jack flopped on the sofa beside him.
“Do you want to go out tonight?” He wasn’t working at the club, but Michael knew he would be working Christmas Eve. He’d tried to get out of it, but there was no-one to cover. He’d been disappointed that they wouldn’t spend Christmas Eve together but wouldn’t let them down. Michael had to smile at his loyalty and had agreed to join him later in the evening.
Jack pondered a moment. “Do you?”
“I’m easy,” Michael said, heading for the kitchen to make a drink.
“I know that.”
Michael frowned, then laughed softly and shook his head.
“Do you fancy a film and a takeaway?”
Michael grinned. That sounded like heaven. Big crowds had never been his thing. “Two’s company?”
Jack sank further into the sofa. “Oh yeah…The thought of battling through all the mad crowds is just…” Jack shuddered.
“I’d love a night in.”
They messed about, making drinks, ordering food, deciding on a film, and when they’d finally eaten and settled down, Michael’s mind drifted. Jack wanted to watch something funny, so while Jack chuckled away, Michael pondered how to tell his parents, thinking of different ways of approaching the subject. Eventually he set to wondering if it would be socially acceptable to email his parents and tell them. That was how he conducted most of his interactions.
Dear Mum and Dad, I know you’ve been waiting for me to meet that special someone, well now I have. And… he’s called Jack. He’s a man. And I’m gay. Thanks, love Michael. PS Can I bring him home for Christmas lunch?
He laughed to himself at the thought, and Jack looked up at him. “What?”
“Just wondering how to tell the parents about me. About you…” He shrugged.
“And that made you laugh?”
“I was thinking of sending an email.”
Jack stared a moment, then burst out laughing. He shook his head. “You can’t do it by email! Look, you really don’t need to. I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want, or don’t feel the time is right.”
Michael made a decision. “Can we pause this? I’ll ring them now.”
“Now?” Michael was sure Jack’s voice wavered a little. It was certainly higher pitched than normal.
“Now. I can’t concentrate for thinking about it.”
“Michael…”
Michael dug his phone out of his pocket, stared at it and hesitated. “Erm, think I might do it in the bedroom.”
Jack groaned and put his face in his hands.
Michael dropped a kiss on the top of his head.
He shut the door behind him and searched for the home number, pressed dial, and held his breath. He sat on the edge of the bed, heart pounding. It rang a couple of times before his father answered, and Michael’s mouth went dry.
“Dad. Hi.”
“Michael. How are you. We haven’t heard from you for a while.”
Perfect opener. “I’ve been a bit busy lately. Got a couple of big contracts in.” Coward.
“Good news. Good news. The business seems to be going well?”
“It is. How’s Mum?” Just get on with it.
“She’s fine. She’s in the kitchen if you want to talk to her.”
He almost said yes. It would be much easier to tell his mum, but …. Here goes… “Dad, I’ve something I need to…say.” He wondered if this wouldn’t be better done in person. It probably would. It definitely would. Oh, Christ.
“What’s that?”
He should definitely tell him in person. “Well… I … “
“Spit it out. Are you trying to wangle your way out of coming home for Christmas? If you are your mother will be devastated.”
Michael closed his eyes and sighed. “No. I’m not trying to wangle out of it. I’m… I’m trying to ask if you mind if I bring someone with me.” Michael kept his eyes shut.
Silence.
He opened them again. “Dad?”
“Someone… Have you met someone?”
The incredulity in his father’s tone rankled. “I have. Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Well, it’s a first. You’ve never brought anyone home before. Who is she?”
…And here we go.
“His name is Jack.”
“Oh.”
There was a lot of disappointment in that oh.
“So just a friend.”
Michael screwed his eyes closed again. He had an out. He couldn’t use it. He thought of Jack and steeled himself. “No. Someone special.”
“I don’t follow.”
His father was baffled. He could hear it in his voice. He was going to have to spell it out. He should definitely have spoken to his mother. She would have picked up on what he was trying to say immediately. His father rarely picked up on anything unless it was said bluntly. He took a breath and opted for direct.
“Dad. I’ve met a…man who is…special. I want you to meet him. I’m… I’m gay.”
And there it was. Out in the open. Gay. Him. Gay. Emotion bubbled through him at making the announcement and he wanted to laugh, though it could easily be hysteria.
His father’s voice interrupted his moment of euphoria. “Ah
. I see. Gay?”
“Gay.”
Silence.
Michael tried to breathe normally. He heard a voice in the background. Presumably his mother. His father put his hand over the receiver or something because his voice sounded muffled, but he could still hear him.
“It’s Michael. He wants to bring someone home for Christmas.” His mother’s response was harder to discern. “Before you get excited, it’s a man. He says he’s gay.” Something else from his mother. Then his father sighed. “I don’t know. Michael says he’s gay… No, Michael’s gay, not his friend, well, thinking about it, he probably is too if he says he’s special, I suppose.” More from his mother. “Because he said so. Here, speak to him yourself.”
His father came back clear. “Here’s your mother. You’d better explain.”
“Darling?”
“Hi Mum.” His voice sounded a bit on the faint side. It was pretty much how he felt.
“What’s this about a gay friend?”
“His name’s Jack, and he’s my…” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Her voice was hesitant.
“Yes. Mum, look, I’m sorry to spring this on you, I should have come home and told you in person…”
“Oh, love that’s wonderful!” She was crying. Oh God.
“What?”
“Oh, sweetheart. I always wondered if you were gay.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, as though he could see her, then put it back. “You did?”
“Darling. I really don’t care who you bring home, as long as they make you happy. Does he make you happy?”
Michael found it difficult to speak. He swept at his eyes, which were suddenly wet, with the back of his hand. “Yeah. Yeah, he does.”
“Well then. We will see you on Christmas Day. Is there anything he doesn’t like to eat?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, ask him.”
“What now?”
“Is he there?”
“In the other room.”
“Well, go and ask!”
Michael wiped his eyes again and went to the lounge where Jack was sitting hugging a cushion. He looked up, grey eyes full of dread.
He cleared his throat. “Ah, Mum would like to know if there’s anything you don’t like to eat?”
Jack looked startled. “Ah... No. I’ll eat anything.”
“He’ll eat anything.”
“Let me speak to him.”
“What?”
“Let me speak to him.”
“Mum, no. Let’s just leave it for now.
“Michael…”
He closed his eyes and held out the phone. “She wants to speak to you.”
Jack’s jaw dropped, but he held out his hand. He passed the phone over. Jack picked it up like it was made of china. He held it tentatively to his ear.
“Hello, Mrs. Cross.”
He couldn’t hear what his mother said, but gradually, Jack’s timid posture relaxed, and a soft smile spread across his lips. He nodded a couple of times. “Thank you. Thank you. I’m looking forward to meeting you too. Bye… bye…”
He passed the phone back with a grin.
Michael groaned as he took it back and pocketed it. “Go on. What did she say?”
“Just that she’s delighted that you’ve met someone special, and that she’s looking forward to seeing me.”
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breathe. Jack jumped up from the sofa and wrapped his arms around him. Michael pressed his face against the warmth of Jack’s neck until he regained his composure.
“So, am I someone special?”
Michael held him tight. “Yeah.”
They held onto each other.
“We should watch the rest of the film,” Michael murmured after a while.
“Or, we could just go to bed?”
He kissed Jack’s neck gently. “You always have the best ideas.”
Monday morning, Jack was wrapped tight in Michael’s arms when the alarm sounded. He groaned and burrowed deeper. The weekend had been the most amazing weekend of his entire life. Cocooned in their own little world, away from the madness of the city that swarmed not far beneath them, they had simply laughed and loved the whole time and Michael had never once commented that he was clingy, that he was behaving wrongly, not once. In fact, the clingier he was, the happier Michael seemed to be. Perhaps they were a perfect fit. Perhaps Michael’s complete lack of a social life before they had met meant that he was a one-man kind of a guy. Perhaps that this was it. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.
He needed to calm down before he ended up proposing or something stupid like that. He knew he was likely to get carried away with the romance of it all, but this was different. In his heart, he knew this was different. There had been relationships, boyfriends along the way, including the time he had been with Gavin, but nothing had prepared him for this. Nothing at all. The feelings that Michael stirred in him were simply in a different league. He was fairly sure he was in love with him. If he was, then he realised that every time he’d thought himself in love, he’d been wrong. He’d tried to ignore all Gavin’s faults and just love him. He’d always overlooked any flaws in the hope that he’d found love. With Michael, he was well aware of his flaws. He was grumpy, prone to overwork, awkward sometimes, and a bit more solitary than Jack would have liked, but there was something about him. Something rock solid and steady. Something utterly dependable. And the man was as desperately in need of love as he was. Perhaps that was why they were so perfect. Two of a kind.
Michael stirred, and rolled towards him, pushing Jack onto his side and curling his body around him. Jack’s arse was perched in Michael’s groin, with Michael spooned against every inch. He could feel his breath on his neck, and Michael’s arm tightened around his middle.
“Time is it?” he mumbled.
“Half seven.”
“Mmmmm.” Michael wriggled closer and Jack felt his erection pressing against him and smiled. They’d kissed and fooled about a million times, sucked each other, but as yet they’d not fucked. Jack had plans to remedy that. He shivered. He really, really wanted to feel Michael inside him. He pushed back, making Michael gasp, then rolled over and straight into his arms.
“Happy Christmas Eve,” he said, nibbling Michael’s lips.
“Happy Christmas Eve to you too.”
Michael rolled so he was lying between Jack’s thighs. Jack’s favourite place for Michael to be. He loved the weight of him, the solidity of him…everything about him. Michael kissed him deeply and pulled his leg up, so Jack wrapped it around his back. Michael slid a finger over his crease, pressing at his entrance, making him gasp aloud.
“Tonight,” Jack murmured around the kiss. “Tonight, after we’ve sorted Bryce out, and everything is okay, do you want to… Do you…”
Michael pulled his lips away and stroked Jack’s face. “Do I what?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Jack felt the heat in Michael’s entire body as he flushed, but he didn’t look away. He nodded and swallowed.
“What?” Jack captured his hand and kissed his palm.
“I’m not very experienced.” His voice was an embarrassed whisper.
Well, if Jack hadn’t realised he loved him before, that would have done it. That uncertain honesty again. Trusting him with the things he was awkward about, shy about, moved him more than anything else. He wrapped his arms around him. “It will be perfect. I promise.”
They snuggled together for a little while, each seemingly lost in thought. It was Michael who broke the silence.
“When you work at Dooley’s, you wear eyeliner.”
Jack squinted up at him, wondering where he was going with this. Probably hated seeing him in it. He’d have to be more careful to wash it off when he’d finished work.
“I do.”
Michael nodded. “Do you ever wear it outside of the club?”
&
nbsp; “I have in the past, but I’m careful with it outside. I get enough comments as it is without adding to the problem.”
Michael frowned, and his arm tightened around him. “You could wear it at home.”
Jack looked up at him again and watched as Michael swallowed and looked away.
Jack went hot all over, and his heart raced. Was he saying...
“You like me in eyeliner?”
Michael looked at the ceiling. “Mmm hmm. Maybe.”
Jack wanted to punch the air and shout out loud. “Really?”
Michael looked at him, took hold of his hand and kissed it, then pushed it under the covers until he found his rock-hard cock.
“That’s just thinking about you in eyeliner.”
Jack scrambled to his knees beside Michael and peered down at him. The truth of it was clear. He was aroused. Aroused by the thought of him in eyeliner.
“Oh, Michael,” he whispered.
Michael smiled up at him. “You don’t mind then?”
Jack shook his head.
“Good. I was worried you might think me a bit kinky.”
Jack bit his lip. “How do you feel about lip gloss?”
Michael closed his eyes and moaned before pulling Jack down and rolling on top of him.
“Not kinky then?” Michael whispered.
Jack grinned and pushed against him. “Kinky as shit, but it’s my kind of kinky.”
Chapter Twelve
Once they’d finished work on Christmas Eve, and Michael had sent everyone in the office off with good wishes, they had lunch in the flat. Michael watched him stare off into space for the umpteenth time and reached over to squeeze his hand.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“Bryce wants to meet at five.”
“Well, it’s only one-thirty, we’ve plenty of time for Christian to call.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
Michael squeezed his fingers. “We pay him anyway.”
Jack looked pale and tense. He hadn’t looked like that for days and Michael just wanted to take it all off him. Take the pressure away, take the worry away.
“Let me give it to him.”
Jack stared at him as though he’d lost his marbles. “No.”