by Cat Kane
"Someone’s eager." Jase grinned, licking a teasing path along Riley’s stomach, moving no lower despite the whining. "So, have you been naughty, or"—he swiped his thumb across the head of Riley’s cock—"naughtier?"
"Shut up! Just—"
"Sshh…" He dipped his tongue into the shallow hollow of Riley’s navel in parody of what his body yearned for, restlessly. "This’ll be better."
He hadn’t exactly planned any of this very well; bringing someone home hadn’t been on his list of things to do over the holidays. He had condoms, somewhere in the warzone that was the night-stand drawer, but the closest thing he had to lube was a bottle of cheap hand lotion. He didn’t keep it for vanity; up until the end of November, he’d been working in a restaurant kitchen, and the transition from dish-washing in steaming hot water, to the icy air outside had wreaked havoc. Then the restaurant shut down, and that was all she wrote. He should have felt worse for his employers, losing a business just before Christmas, but hell, they hadn’t paid any of their staff enough to warrant the concern.
There was concern for Riley though, as Jase burrowed back into the blankets with the retrieved items. He had no idea if hand lotion would do the necessary job, but he did remember it had taken hours to work into his hands, and it had been impossible to get a decent grip on anything with it.
Worst case scenario, Riley’s ass would be more velvety soft than it already was.
"What’s so—oh!" Riley’s demand for an explanation as to why Jase couldn’t quit chuckling was cut off with an equally amused squeal at the contact of cold lotion against heated skin.
"Sorry." Jase mumbled, fingers sliding slickly, seeking out that ring of muscle and gently, patiently—or as patiently as he could go without it killing him—working the makeshift lube into it. "Shoulda warmed it first…"
"S’okay." Riley arched beneath him, not being patient in the least, and laughed breathlessly. "Just tickles." His hands gripped Jase’s shoulders, as two fingers slipped past the tight entrance. "How much’d you use anyway?"
Too much, probably. He wasn’t greasing a turkey. But the thought of inadvertently hurting Riley would have convinced him to use so much they’d probably end up sliding down the stairs out into the street.
"Enough."
Riley laughed again, but stopped asking questions in favor of rewarding the slow thrust of Jase’s fingers with more of those hot, pleading noises. Those noises would be the death of him, he told himself, struggling to roll on the condom one handed and trying not to think about how long it’d been since he’d had to. Or if not the death of him, it’d render all the preparation useless.
So it was with more urgency than he’d have liked that he positioned himself, stroking some of the ample leftover lotion along his length, and, torturously slowly, pressed inside.
For a second, Riley went utterly silent, and Jase was already pulling back and planning his profuse apologies, when Riley all but growled at him, legs wrapping over Jase’s hips, keeping him there.
"Don't stop."
He’d had a hunch it’d be good, but he’d never imagined it’d feel so right. Stupid thought. Dangerous thought, but it was there in the back of his mind nonetheless.
As noisy as he was, Riley still sought out his lips, as happy with the moans muffled against hungry, erratic kisses as he was with crying out loud. His arms were around Jase’s shoulders, fingers in Jase’s hair, and he’d never felt so much like drowning in someone else as he did with Riley. Everything else faded to the periphery; it was probably still cold outside the nest of sheets, and the heating meter was probably going to run out any second. The lights of the garage were probably still the only thing illuminating the room, because Jase hadn’t turned any lights on when they came in. But his world had condensed to this, to Riley’s body wrapped sweet and feverish around his, breathless kisses and an almost unbearable pleasure sparking from the point where their bodies locked together.
It might have been a while for him, but he doubted anyone could last all that long while wrapped up in Riley, buried in heat and tightness, enveloped in sweetness and those sexy little noises. He supposed it was okay, as long as Riley deigned to give him a few more chances to prove his stamina. A few million would be a nice start.
He broke the kiss as he came, breathing Riley’s name through gritted teeth, awareness dissolving momentarily to white haze and a floating warmth. Somewhere, distant as space and as close as his heartbeat, Riley arched beneath him, wet heat pooling against his stomach.
In that moment, he could barely recall his own name, but he was pretty sure that he owned the whole damned universe. He must, if he felt this good.
After a few moments spent relearning how to breathe, he drew back just enough to let Riley curl against him, head tucked under Jase’s chin. Athletic positions were one thing, but there was something to be said about being able to wrap his arms around Riley and hold him close.
"You didn’t use all that hand lotion, right?" Riley mumbled sleepily against his shoulder.
Jase laughed, voice a little hoarse. "Not quite."
"Good," Riley murmured, ocean colored eyes drifting closed, sated and satisfied. "Cause if there wasn’t enough for the next round, I’d have to send you out in the cold to the store, and that’d be bad."
Smiling against Riley’s hair, Jase shook his head. "Nah, it’d probably be worth it."
EIGHT
If it wasn’t for the fact he needed to be home to watch the kids for Bree’s hair appointment, Riley didn’t think he’d have left Jase’s bed for days. Weeks. Ever. His body was still tingling from the muscle memory of Jase’s body wrapped around his, still ached in a pleasantly aware way, nerves that had been dormant for way too long waking up even in the middle of winter.
He’d only just stepped through the door when his phone rang. Habitually, Riley reached up to unwind the scarf, smiling stupidly when he remembered why it wasn’t there. He was still smiling when he answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Miller?" an unfamiliar voice asked. "Joe Barton, I’m the head of security you spoke to the other day, concerning some goods that had been stolen at our store."
"Oh." Realisation dawned. "Actually, I already got my things back. Someone outside the store had seen some kids messing with the cart, and brought everything back, so—"
"Kids?" Barton asked, a strange inflection in his tone. "Is that what you were told?"
"Well, yeah," Riley said, a strange cold sensation fluttering in his chest. "Why? I mean, I have everything back, not one thing was actually stolen…"
"I still suggest you come take a look at the security feed from that evening, Mr. Miller," Barton said after a moment. "Then you can decide whether or not to take any action."
Truth be told, part of him was curious. Of course he wasn’t going to pursue anything, he wasn’t going to make trouble for some kids on Christmas Eve. Thanks to Jase, he hadn’t lost anything, except maybe an hour or two to complete panic. If anything, the whole incident had given him far more than he’d expected. He smiled at the thought, but agreed to drop by the store anyway, since Barton had taken the time to call him at what had to be a ridiculously busy time.
"Bree, I’m borrowing the car real quick, okay?"
Bree stuck her head around the kitchen door.
"What’s so important all of a sudden?"
"Some school stuff I need to take care of." That was going to be the last lie he’d tell about this mess, he swore it was.
"Didn’t you just get home?" Bree asked, eyes twinkling. "Is he as good as he looks?"
"Bree!" Riley blushed beacon-bright, fishing for his keys in an attempt to avoid her eyes and keep from melting through the floor. "I’ll be right back okay?"
"Tch, fine!" Bree yelled after him, still grinning widely as Riley turned away. "Just get it back before my hair appointment!"
He spent the short drive sitting in crawling traffic, and alternating between utter mortification, and complete delight. Co
nsidering he hadn’t expected much from this Christmas, he’d received far more than he ever dreamed. It was worth the teasing, a million times over.
The store was perpetually busy. He paused to drop a few quarters in the charity collector’s bucket, before asking the first staff member he saw for Joe Barton.
At least three crackly Christmas carols had played on the store’s PA system by the time the man showed up, looking as gruff and dour as his voice suggested. With no preamble or chit-chat, he escorted Riley to a boxy office at the back of the store. Gesturing for Riley to sit in one of the peeling vinyl desk chairs, he crossed the tiny room to a bank of screens and monitors that lined one wall.
"I won’t keep you, Mr. Miller," he began pressing buttons, grainy pictures speeding by on the screens. "If you say all your goods were returned, you’ll have a hard time making any charges stick in this case. And we don’t appreciate having our time wasted, especially time concerning the security and reputation of the store." He paused, glancing at Riley, a strange look on his face. "Is it possible a friend was playing a prank on you, Mr. Miller?"
"A prank?" Riley frowned. "No. I didn’t even know the person who returned my stuff."
"I see." Barton pressed another button, and the screen flared to life. Riley watched a grainy black and white picture of himself, two days ago, sitting his cart over by the toy grabbing machine, and wandering into the hair salon. He watched people passing by, oblivious, making no moves to take his cart.
He hadn’t known what he expected to see. A bunch of kids, giggling and egging each other on as they made off with his cart.
Anything. Something. Something else.
But that wasn’t what the screen showed.
It wasn’t kids, it wasn’t a prank. Instead, he watched Jase walk up to his cart, glance around, and stroll it right out of the store.
* * *
Jase had dressed up as best he could; clean jeans, and a plain white shirt that was years old, but had been kept in pristine condition by dint of being the only formal shirt he owned. And the scarf, of course, in all its ugly fuzzy glory. He kept it wrapped around his neck and lower face as he walked briskly towards Riley’s, thoughts filled with sensory memories every time he inhaled the scent.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up on Christmas morning with any flicker of hope, with the idea that maybe, just maybe, things were going right for him for once. He knew he’d never had a family Christmas before, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect—he had the distinct feeling that Bree and the kids went all out for the big day.
He should have bought gifts, even though he reasoned Riley had only asked him to attend last night, and he was hardly going to walk away from the best sex he’d had in forever just to buy some Power Rangers or My Little Ponies or whatever the hell kids today went for. Or probably Hero Warriors merch, given the kids' animated conversation yesterday as they enthused about their favorite cartoon.
The thought of that brought a smile to his face. Who’d have thought something this amazing could have come from something that began so badly? He’d never have dreamed, while sitting in that stolen Ford, that just days later he’d be here. But he’d been desperate then, he’d been someone who had no hope, nothing to strive for, no reason to look forward.
Now he had Riley.
He ever spared the damn reindeer a grin as he turned into the uneven cracked driveway. His stride towards the porch was halted though, when the front door opened, and Riley stepped out.
Riley didn’t have to say a word. The truth was as clear as ice, etched in the disillusionment on his face, ocean eyes cold with hurt.
He knew. Jase didn’t know how, and supposed it didn’t really matter.
Everything he thought he’d found was crumbling like a snowman in the spring. The house with its warmth and lights was only twenty feet away, but it might as well have been twenty thousand miles away—he wasn’t allowed into that world anymore.
"Riley…"
"You know," Riley began softly, "I wouldn’t have minded that much if you’d told me. Not really. I’d have still been glad you brought my stuff back. Cause, I mean, you did bring them back. You didn’t know me, didn’t know us, but it would have counted for something in my book that you bought them back anyway. That you felt bad."
Feeling bad didn’t quite cover it.
"I’m sorry…"
"Are you? Sorry for not telling me the truth, or sorry that I found out?"
Lying now would only add insult to the injury that blazed so brightly in Riley’s eyes, Jase could barely look at him.
"Both…mostly I’m sorry for lying to you. For causing you to be disappointed in me."
"Jase…I don’t think I know you enough to be disappointed." Riley stared at him. "Did you tell me the truth about anything?"
"Of course I did. Yesterday. Yesterday was the truth, I swear."
Riley laughed, a soft humourless sound. "Jase…"
"No. I’m not…I’m not a good person, Riley. I’ve done so many things wrong in my life, and not telling you the truth from the start was one of the worst." Without thinking, Jase's fingers had curled into the ends of the scarf, clinging onto the last thing he had left of Riley. "The why doesn’t matter, and I don’t blame you for wanting me out of your life because of it. But I want you to know that meeting you is the one thing I’ve ever done right. I might hate the way we met, but I don’t hate how you already made my life better just by being in it. I wish it could’ve been for longer, but I fucked up and it can’t be."
That dream of a schmaltzy Hallmark family Christmas drifted further out of view, until it disappeared from his grasp entirely.
He’d been stupid for ever thinking any of this could be his.
"Oh, and hey…" He unwound the scarf, stepping closer to Riley just long enough to deposit the scarf in his hands, before backing away just as quickly. "I was gonna give it back to you today anyway, so…"
Riley was still watching him, but Jase could only return the look from peripheral vision. He didn’t want to look too closely; he didn’t want to see the extent of the disappointment.
"Thanks for everything, ‘kay Riley?" He turned back towards the street, the sidewalks ahead of him empty and hollow. "Oh, and tell everyone Happy Christmas."
NINE
With trembling hands, Riley closed the front door. For a moment he just leaned against it, watching through the frosted glass as Jase’s blurry outline disappeared into the morning.
Last night had been the first Christmas Eve where he hadn’t slept since he was a kid. Only back then it had been in anticipation and excitement, not with the ugly dread of having to face Jase with an accusation Riley still hadn’t quite believed until he saw the look on Jase’s face.
He’d lied. This whole time, through the ice-skating, the fair, the makeshift romantic dinner, through dances and kisses and making love, Jase had lied. None of it was real.
Riley took a shaky breath, gathering up the scarf in his hands and pressing the soft, ticklish fabric against his face. It even smelled like Jase now. He balled it up and tossed it into the corner by the door.
After a while, a perplexed Bree stuck her head out of the living room door. "Where’s Jase?"
"Not coming." Riley ducked past her back into the room.
The lights were still as bright and colorful, the music was just as soft and nostalgic, but the room felt very different to the one he’d been in a few minutes ago. The sparkle and glow seemed to have drifted from his grasp somehow, in the moments in between. It was just a string of lightbulbs, and some has-been bands trying to cash in on people’s sentimentality.
The kids were all in the kitchen, gorging themselves senseless on chocolate even though dinner was only a short wait away. Riley was grateful for the chance to gather himself before he had to explain to them why Jase wasn’t going to join them after all.
"But that was him at the door, right?" Bree persisted. "Why would he come all the way here just to dit
ch you at the last min—?"
"I said he’s not coming," Riley snapped, hating himself for it immediately. "Not today, not ever."
"Jeez, fine, no need to be an ass about it." Bree put her hands on her hips. "You should know damn well we don’t talk like that in this house, even if we have been dumped on Christmas."
"I wasn’t dumped, I…"
He couldn’t help it. In the suddenly harsh lights of the tree, he told Bree everything: about the shopping cart; about involving Jase in the lie; about Barton and his security footage; and about the past few minutes out on the porch.
"I trusted him," he whispered tightly. "I thought he was a good guy, but it turns out he’s just a shitty liar."
The snigger from the doorway told them someone was eavesdropping. Riley looked up to see Dennis poking his head around the kitchen door and giggling in a candy-induced euphoria: "You said shi—"
"If you finish that sentence Dennis," Bree warned, "all your toys are going back to the store, whether someone wants to steal them or not."
Dennis scowled, but did as he was told. Instead he said, "Jase isn’t a liar though."
Riley blinked. "What?"
"Well it’s obvious," Dennis said, shrugging as though Riley and Bree were embarrassing slow on the uptake. "Grown ups don’t really like Hero Warriors, but Jase pretended to anyway. ‘Cept not in the bad way grown ups pretend when they lie. He pretended in a nice way, ‘cos he didn’t wanna make Carly and Craig sad. Maybe he just didn’t wanna make you sad too."
"Kid’s got a point," Bree murmured. "Since Jack left, I’ve had dates who don’t even bother to ask the kids’ names let alone show any interest in the things they cared about."
"Yeah, but he still pretended," Riley said pointedly, "so how do I know he wasn’t ‘pretending’ the whole time? He only told me the truth now because I’d found out." He turned to Dennis, trying to figure out a way to let the kid understand when he could barely get his thoughts wrapped around Jase’s decision himself. "You’re right, sometimes people do pretend when they don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings. But sometimes, it’s the pretending that hurts the most. And that’s what Jase did."