by Leta Blake
“And yesterday was the worst conflict I’ve had with her in years. Maybe ever,” Aaron said. “I’ve tried to put it out of my mind, and thanks to you and the whole naughty elf game, I was pretty much able to do it. But then you asked about why I was still closeted, and my dad brought my mom up, and so it’s all come rushing back in. The anger. The shame.”
“What happened yesterday?”
Aaron sighed, polishing a silver and gold bulb. “During the dance, she pulled me aside and told me off for flirting with a parent.” He rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I was not flirting with a parent. Just talking to a dad about his son, a young man who’s struggling right now.”
“So not only did she accuse you of something you would never do—”
Aaron scoffed. “I’m not a saint. I won’t say I’ve never accidentally flirted with a student’s dad. But never on purpose. And the time it happened, he started it.”
RJ raised a brow. “Sounds like another story there.”
“An embarrassing one. Never mind.”
“What I was saying is that she accused you of something you weren’t doing, and she also interrupted a potentially important conversation about a student.”
“Exactly!” Aaron applied more baking soda and vinegar solution, making the bulb shine. “She also said other things.” He flushed a little. “I’m embarrassed to repeat them.”
“After what I told you about my teen years, you can tell me anything.”
“I’m sorry about that, by the way.” Aaron put the bulb aside and took hold of RJ’s hand. “I should have been there for you. I was your teacher, and I had no idea. I wish you’d come to me. I could have helped you.”
“Could you have? Really, Aaron? What would that have looked like? Placement in some kind of foster care? Believe me, I consider myself lucky.”
“How?”
“What happened with me wasn’t great. But at least I was getting off with an older guy I actually chose to screw and not being molested by someone who was supposed to care for me. Or being passed from loveless home to loveless home. And, like I also said earlier, I was a freshman when I was with that guy. All that was over by the time I saw you for the first time my senior year.” RJ’s eyes went darker. “I’ll never forget how you came in that first day, looking so sweet in that sports coat and bow tie, and your hot ass all—” RJ let out a low whistle.
“You’re really fixated on my ass.”
“Spent an entire school year staring at it. I like your dimples too. They make me want to eat you alive.” He raised a brow. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you deflected the topic of conversation away from the stuff about your mom. What else did your mom say? It’s better to get the poison out than let it fester.”
Aaron took a deep breath. Then he spit out the insults his mother had sent his way, calling his sexual behavior illicit and dangerous, without accepting any of the blame for that. “How can I give myself to someone, heart and soul, when I’m not allowed to be open and honest about who I am? Not only at work, but in my mother’s home? She’s set me up for this life, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep living it. I want more.”
“You deserve more, babe.” RJ stared at him with solemn, hazel eyes. “You’re a lovable man. And you deserve to be loved. Don’t let her take that away from you.”
Aaron’s heart fluttered, and he ducked his head, putting a few more ornaments in the aluminum tub to soak. “I wonder sometimes.”
“What do you wonder?”
“If I do deserve it?”
RJ moved closer, took Aaron’s chin in his hand and tipped it up. “What deep, dark secret haven’t you shared with me, Mr. Danvers? Hmm.”
Aaron licked his lips, his gut quivering and his cock filling slightly. “I…don’t know. But there’s got to be something.”
RJ’s gaze bore into him. “What’s the worst thing about you? The thing you’d be completely mortified if anyone found out?”
Aaron’s breath caught, and then he whispered, “Like I’d tell you.”
“Tell me, Mr. Danvers, or you’re going back on the naughty list.”
Aaron huffed a half-aroused laugh. “That’s a threat? If last night is what happens to people on the naughty list, why would I ever want off?”
“Because what happens to people on the nice list is even better. It comes with handcuffs and hours of edging.”
“Oh, fuck.”
RJ laughed. “So tell me, what’s the worst sin you’ve committed?”
“I’m a slut.”
“Mm, I love sluts. What else?”
“I let a former student spank and fuck me.”
“So hot. What else?”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“C’mon.”
“I hate my mother.”
“Yeah. I know you do. But you love her too.” RJ stroked his hand over Aaron’s cheek, probing one finger into a dimple when Aaron smiled. “Good work, Mr. Danvers. You’ve been promoted to the nice list now. When do you want to collect on the handcuffs and edging? Spoiler alert: not tonight. I have a show. Plus, I need to get some handcuffs first. Though duct tape could work, if you have that around.”
Aaron laughed. “Jesus, RJ. You’re ridiculous.”
“But you like me.”
Aaron grinned, heat rising up his chest and into his cheeks. “Yeah. I do.”
“Tell me more.” RJ sat back and broke the tension between them. “What do your friends think about all of this with your mom?”
“Friend,” Aaron said. “Only Lauren knows the truth about me.”
“Who’s Lauren?”
RJ was a surprisingly good listener. He didn’t try to fix things, he had appropriate responses even if it was just a sympathetic sigh, and he asked relevant, insightful questions that expanded on what Aaron was relating. He made it easy for Aaron to talk and keep talking. It was only now that they were almost done with washing the ornaments that Aaron realized he’d talked for nearly three full hours.
“Oh, man. What time do you have to leave to set up for the show?” Aaron asked, cutting off whatever it was RJ was going to ask him next.
RJ pulled out his phone, typed something into it, and said, “Joel and Casey will bring my stuff with them. So, I just need to be at Scruffy City Hall by seven, and the show starts at eight.” He smiled. “You’ll come?”
Aaron looked at the ornament in his hands, a fragile, clear glass bulb with a lonely snowman inside. “I don’t know. I should decorate this tree.”
RJ took the globe from his hand and set it back into the box of now mostly clean ornaments. He took Aaron’s fingers in his own. “I’d like you to be there.”
“RJ…” Aaron shook his head.
RJ sighed. “Okay. That’s fine.” He shrugged and stood up. “Well, I guess I should go to Mom and Doug’s, clean up a little. Give you some time alone.”
Aaron nodded glumly. He didn’t want RJ to leave, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to just keep on hanging out together without a break to process things. They’d been so entangled over the last twenty-four hours, and somehow so much had happened and been said that it felt like they’d been together for a week straight. Aaron did need a little space to breathe, screw his head on, and decorate his Grandma’s tree. Alone.
As good a listener as RJ was, and as arousing as the naughty vs. nice list talk had been, this was a special thing for him, having his Grandma’s tree here in his apartment. He wanted to listen to Christmas music, decorate it, and remember her and all of his childhood Christmases.
“Don’t forget to put the lemon and orange peels around the bottom of the tree,” RJ said, pulling on his leather jacket and zipping it up. He didn’t look or sound hurt, but still Aaron felt the distance expand between them, the awkward space that had opened up when he’d declined to go to the pub with RJ tonight.
“I won’t forget. These ornaments are too precious to risk.”
RJ nodded. “Good luck.” He leaned in and kissed Aaron’s forehea
d. A warm, proprietary kiss that Aaron felt all the way down to the soles of his feet. “Text me when you’re ready to see me again. I’ll be waiting.”
Then he left.
Aaron stared at the door for way too long, his mind a complete blank but his body full of yearning. Then he headed for his stereo, found his old vinyl record of Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song,” and let the soothing sounds of his Grandma’s favorite singer fill the space.
While Constance slept on the sofa, Aaron began to decorate the silvery Christmas tree alone.
Chapter Nineteen
RJ was just as sexy onstage as he’d been the first time Aaron had spotted him up there not even a week ago. Knowing what was beneath RJ’s white, V-necked T-shirt and his comfortable-looking blue jeans didn’t detract in the least from the erotic visions buzzing in Aaron’s head.
Tonight, RJ wore another jingle-bell tipped reindeer antler headband. Someone had fashioned more tinsel wrist cuffs for him, and he sang a jazzy-blues version of “Frosty the Snowman.” By all rights, he should have appeared absurd.
Instead, his natural grace and complete personal comfort in his body made it impossible for Aaron to tear his eyes away. And he didn’t think he was alone. By the time he’d found a seat in the corner of the bar, he’d overheard two different groups of women angling to approach RJ during a break or once the show as over.
Good luck with that, honeys.
He’d dressed in a pair of slacks that he knew clung to his ass just right, a sports coat, and a tight, red and green Polo shirt that gripped his biceps in a way that made them look bigger than they really were. Though he’d have to take his sports coat off for anyone to see that.
Aaron shouldn’t have come. He knew that deep down. Or rather, he shouldn’t have come if he didn’t plan to fuck RJ tonight, and probably tomorrow, and definitely for the rest of however long RJ stayed in town. And he really shouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to get his heart broken when it was over. Because that was what he’d figured out while he was putting his grandma’s ornaments on her beautiful, sparkling tree: he was already falling for RJ Blitz.
Even his dad had seen it.
Maybe it doesn’t have to be over when he goes.
He shook the thought away. Hope like that would make this hurt so much more when it was done. Better not to indulge in it at all. He shouldn’t have gotten so sentimental over the word “lover” or taken RJ out to meet his dad. He shouldn’t have told him all his fucked up, emotional baggage and let him into his life like that. He shouldn’t have started to care about RJ, dammit.
Fuck, Lauren was right. He shouldn’t have fucked a former student at all.
And yet…
Once he’d finished decorating the tree, he’d glanced at his phone and realized that RJ was on the stage performing at that exact moment, not even a mile away from him. A five-minute walk at most. Aaron hadn’t been able to keep away, hadn’t wanted to even try.
So, he’d tucked orange and lemon peels beneath the tree skirt he’d fashioned out of one of Aunt Gladdy’s quilts, satisfied when Constance ran away from it like a vampire from garlic. Staring happily at the finished tree, he came to a realization. If he’d put the Christmas tree in a box, and all the ornaments too to keep them safe, then they might as well have remained lost to the world in Candace’s basement forever.
If he returned home to find the tree overturned and the ornaments smashed, he knew he’d cry. But he also knew life would go on. No matter what disaster happened, life always went on. So why not enjoy what he had while he had it?
It was the same with RJ.
Aaron would no doubt cry real tears of pain when whatever this was crashed and burned, but so what? He’d have felt cared for and been, for a short time, someone’s lover. Not just some guy’s hookup or an easy hole to fuck. Lover. So, he should enjoy it while it lasted.
As he’d added his Grandma’s angel on top of the tree, he’d resolved to stop pushing RJ away. So here he was at Scruffy City Hall again, a little nervous, a little stupid, and a lot turned on. He sat his bruised ass on the barstool and watched RJ play and sing, admiring the way he closed his eyes and let his gritty baritone rush out. RJ looked vulnerable like that and yet powerful too. Christmas carols had never been so sexy.
When the bartender swung by to get Aaron’s order, he motioned the man closer. “Do you have a girlfriend with a kid that goes to Pineview?”
The man tilted his head. “What’s it to you?”
“I’d appreciate it if you told your girlfriend, or whoever, that what she sees while she’s here visiting you at work really ought to be kept to herself.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Or I might need to have a word with the manager about how his bartender’s woman is causing problems for paying customers at their place of work.”
The bartender looked like he couldn’t decide if he should get pissed off or not, but then he shocked Aaron by saying, “Sorry. It’s not what it seems. I promise.”
“Oh? What was it then, if not your girlfriend gossiping about me in a way that could affect my career?”
It was hard to hear over the music, so the bartender leaned close until he was practically yelling in Aaron’s ear.
“I’m bi,” he shouted. “I saw you in here the other night and thought you were hot. Then you went home with that guy,” he nodded up at RJ, “and I realized that, even if I wasn’t with my girlfriend, you’re way out of my league.”
“Wait? What?”
The bartender leaned closer and yelled, “I told my ex I thought you were hot, and she lost her shit and dumped me.” He shrugged. “Can’t say I’m sorry I found out she was a bigot, though. Good riddance.”
Aaron blinked. Hot? The bartender had thought he was hot? And then told his girlfriend about it? That was…psycho. Who does that? He didn’t know what part to latch onto first, so he just said, “Whiskey up. Maker’s Mark.” Because that was his brand too, not just his dad’s.
“Sure thing.”
The set continued with RJ oblivious to Aaron’s presence. He mostly sang with his eyes shut tonight, which was different from when Aaron had seen him the first time. But the performances were just as entertaining, touching, and impassioned. The rest of the band seemed looser, more confident, and less like they had something to prove.
The pianist was clearly fucking the drummer given the looks they exchanged, and the bassist had his eyes on his boyfriend in the audience the whole time. But they were all talented enough to keep the songs on track despite their constant flirting. The entire group wore outfits with homemade holiday sparkle added, just like RJ. They all looked festive as fuck.
Aaron rolled his eyes at himself. He was a composition teacher. He should be able to come up with better descriptions than curse words. Normally, he’d insist on it and berate himself for being too lazy to do better. But tonight, waiting and aching to be noticed by RJ, some part of him liked the commonness of the curses, the crassness. He liked not being too fussy to use them. He liked what that meant about him.
Aaron could toss off the reins. He could be wild and free. He hadn’t shown that side of himself to enough people before. Not even to himself. He needed to change that.
He’d let RJ spank this fun, dirty, naughty feeling out of him later.
Aaron bit into his lower lip just imagining the jolting rush of RJ’s hand connecting with his ass. He didn’t know if he could handle another spanking, though, given the lingering bruises from the ruler the night before. But he’d like to try. His ass ached from where he sat on the hard, wooden barstool, but the nagging discomfort just made him feel squirmy and hot inside.
“Buy you a drink?”
Aaron looked up to find a tall guy with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-trimmed goatee gazing down at him with a cocky smile. Though there was also a hint of worry in his blue gaze, obviously a tad unsure about whether he’d picked the right target for his come-on.
He hadn’t, because Aaron wasn’t go
ing to fuck him tonight. But he had correctly guessed Aaron’s orientation. Frankly, Aaron was starting to feel a little paranoid about his ability to pass for straight.
Why?
Don’t embarrass me, Aaron.
He put his chin up and smiled at the guy. Fuck his mother. There was nothing embarrassing about being gay. Or there shouldn’t be. He refused to let there be. With a slightly seductive tone, he accepted the guy’s offer with a coy, “Sure. Why not?”
In one way, it was a dick move because nothing was going to come of chatting the guy up, but so what? Accepting a drink wasn’t a contract, and he was feeling good tonight. When did he ever feel this proud of himself? Only when he was about to get fucked by RJ Blitz. And he had a feeling that was still going to happen, no matter how many drinks he accepted from goatee guy.
The man smiled, and Aaron took a good look at him. He wasn’t ugly despite the stupid little beard, but he was no RJ. He had tattoos, a few earrings, and now that he was sure he hadn’t made a mistake, incredibly kind blue eyes. Normally, Aaron would be spreading his ass cheeks for him in the Scruffy City Hall’s bathroom stall in less than half an hour’s time. But not tonight.
The bartender deposited Aaron’s whiskey in front of him, and the guy motioned for it to go on his tab.
Aaron put his hand out too. “No, I’ll get this round.”
Maybe he was a dick to have accepted at all, leading the guy on that way, but he wasn’t enough of a dick that he was going to let the guy waste his money as well as his time.
The guy looked dissatisfied, clearly sensing the writing on the wall, but he pulled up the stool beside Aaron and tried to start a conversation over the noise of the music.
“The name’s Trevor,” the guy said, with a twist to his handsome mouth. “You?”
“Aaron.”
“What brings you out tonight?”
A slow smile crept over Aaron’s face. He nodded toward the stage. “I’m here to see my lover’s band.”
Maybe it was the whiskey, but he gave up fighting it. He really liked having a lover. Pride flowed through him like a rushing river, smoothing the fear in his pounding heart. Especially a lover as talented and hot as RJ Blitz.
