“Santa needs to eat his cookies or I’m in big trouble in the morning.”
“I’ll come with you.”
They pulled on their pajamas and tiptoed downstairs where the gentle glow of the Christmas tree waited. They ate the cookies and shared the glass of now warm milk, trying to see who could make the biggest milk moustache before kissing them away and creeping back to bed for a long winter’s nap.
Chapter Five
“Uncle Ryan! Uncle Cary! It’s Christmas!”
Ryan opened his eyes to find Amy at the side of his bed in the dark, her cheeks flushed and a reindeer antler headband holding back her curls. He was spooning Cary—and had been drooling on the back of his neck—and was very relieved they’d put on their pajamas. He felt Cary tense in his arms. Ryan cleared his throat and held Cary close. “Merry Christmas, Amy. What time is it?”
“Six thirty. Mom said if I woke her before seven the Ghost of Christmas Past would haunt me tonight. But you guys can come down and open your stockings! We’re allowed. We got Silly Putty, and Ethan already lost his in the woodpile. Come and see all the presents Santa brought!”
“We’ll be right down. Go help Ethan find his Silly Putty.”
“Okay!” With boundless energy, Amy raced to the ladder and practically jumped down to the second floor.
Cary sprung out of bed and paced. “I’m sorry. I should have gone back to my bed. Do you think…will she say anything?”
Ryan waved his hand. “The only thing on her mind is what Santa left her under the tree.”
Running his fingers through his disheveled hair, Cary exhaled. His pajama bottoms were low on his hips and his T-shirt rode up over his hard stomach. “Okay. It’s not that I don’t…you didn’t seem to want to tell your family. Right?”
It was a great question, and Ryan wasn’t sure how he felt. It was all so new, and he could hardly believe in the slowly dawning morning light that it hadn’t all been a fevered dream. “Yeah, I guess we have stuff to talk about first. Are you…how are you feeling?”
Cary’s lips twitched into a tentative smile. “Good.” He reached for Ryan’s hand and tugged him lightly out of bed and into a sweet kiss. He smoothed his palm over Ryan’s ass. “Reindeer pajamas have never been so sexy.”
There was a crash from downstairs, and Ryan reluctantly broke away from Cary. “I’d better get down there before they break something else. My mom’s probably in the shower. She usually gets up around six to put all the presents under the tree and fill the stockings. Sorry, there’s always a line for the bathroom.”
“It’s okay. It’s nice, everyone being here together and not spread out over a dozen rooms. I like it.” Cary traced Ryan’s cheekbone with his knuckle and then leaned in and slowly licked a spot on Ryan’s jaw near his ear. “I’ve wanted to lick that mole for so long,” he murmured.
With a groan, Ryan stepped away. “Okay, we’ve got to get downstairs or I’m going to throw you down and have my way with you.”
Cary’s eyes twinkled. “That was definitely on my Christmas list.”
“What’s this?” Cary took his place at the dinner table and prodded the brightly wrapped cylinder by his plate.
Amy frowned. “It’s a Christmas cracker.”
Cary picked it up and peered into one open end. The cardboard tube was wrapped in shiny gold-and-red paper with both ends tied off near the middle. “What’s it for?”
“For fun, I suppose,” Maureen answered with a wink as she brought in the cranberry sauce and added it to the incredible spread of sliced turkey, stuffing, yams, beans, and crispy roasted potatoes on the table. “Considering how fond Americans are of fireworks, I’m surprised this tradition was lost.”
“Here.” Ryan picked up his own cracker by one end and held out the other to Cary beside him. “Put your thumb on the little stick inside. Now give Ethan the other end of yours. When we’re all ready, then we pull at the same time.”
Once they all had one end of a cracker in their hands, they counted in unison. “One, two, three!”
Loud pops filled the air as the crackers tore apart and the contents went flying. Ryan fished his toy out of the gravy with his spoon, slurping the tiny pinball game into his mouth to clean it off, much to the delight of Amy and Ethan.
Cary peered into his torn cracker with a grin and shook out the contents—a toy, a joke, and a purple tissue-paper crown. He unfolded it and put it on. “This is awesome.”
Somehow Cary still looked incredibly handsome wearing a ridiculous paper hat. Ryan put on his red one. “Just wait until you hear the jokes.”
“Why did the cow cross the road?” Tony asked, reading from a curled piece of paper. He waited a beat. “To get to the udder side.”
They all groaned, and once they had on their hats, Jack retrieved the camera from the living room and stood at the end of the table. “Everyone say Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!”
Twenty minutes later, Cary rubbed his belly and shook his head. “My trainer’s going to kill me, but that was the best turkey I’ve ever had. How do you get the stuffing so perfect?”
Maureen sipped her glass of Pinot Noir at the head of the table near the kitchen, her yellow crown askew. “Years of experience. And thank you.” She reached for the platter in the center of the table. “You’re sure you don’t want more?”
Cary raised his hand. “Thank you, but I couldn’t.”
“There’s still dessert though, right?” Ethan asked. He spun the top that had come with his Christmas cracker.
“It wouldn’t be Christmas without plum pudding and mincemeat pies,” Jack said. He folded his orange hat beside his plate. “But I think we all need a breather first.”
There were nods and murmurs of assent, and Ryan got up to help clear the table. Cary leaped up beside him and began piling plates. “Thank you again for an incredible dinner, Maureen.”
She fingered the new pearl necklace she wore. “My pleasure, dear. Thank you for the wonderful gifts. They really are too much.”
“It was the least I could do after you welcomed me into your home.” Cary picked up a stack of plates and carried them to the kitchen.
“Don’t be silly. Any friend of Ryan’s is part of the family,” Lisa said as she reached for more wine.
Tony deftly maneuvered the bottle out of her reach. “Come on, let’s put on some coffee.”
Ryan gave him a grateful smile as Lisa grumbled but followed Tony to the kitchen.
Once they finished coffee and dessert, they all flopped in the living room, too stuffed to do anything but watch one of the new movies Santa had put under the tree. Christmas dinner was always early, and by nine they were all in bed.
Well, his family was in bed. Ryan was pacing by his, waiting for Cary to finish in the bathroom. All day he’d had to keep his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch. It didn’t seem real that he could touch Cary now.
“I like the new PJs.” Cary stepped off the top of the ladder.
Ryan flushed. He’d stripped down to his white briefs while he waited. “Thanks.”
“Guess I’m overdressed.” Cary pulled his T-shirt over his head and kicked off his pajama bottoms. He wasn’t wearing underwear. He switched off the light, but the moon was still bright.
Ryan’s throat went dry as Cary stalked toward him. “That’s a good look for you.”
As he sank to his knees, Cary reached for Ryan’s hips. He nuzzled Ryan through his briefs, taking deep breaths, his exhalations sending goose bumps over Ryan’s thighs. Cary tugged down Ryan’s briefs, and Ryan stepped out of them. His pulse zoomed, blood rushing in his ears as Cary closed his lips over the head of his dick.
His initial tentativeness, with little kisses and experimental swipes of his tongue, soon evaporated, and Cary sucked Ryan deeply. He bobbed his head back and forth, his lips stretched around Ryan’s throbbing cock. As the blissful minutes passed, Ryan reached up to hold on to the slant of the ceiling, his legs s
haking as he watched his fantasies come to life—Cary on his knees for him, saliva dribbling down his chin, his mouth so hot and tight and—
Ryan tugged on Cary’s head to warn him as his balls tightened, but Cary just sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing. Ryan saw bursts of color as he pulsed into Cary’s mouth, biting his tongue to stop his cries. He stroked Cary’s hair. “Jesus. You’re a natural.”
Cary tensed and got to his feet. He swiped his hand over his mouth and wouldn’t meet Ryan’s gaze. “Thanks,” he muttered.
Blinking, Ryan reached for him and cupped his cheek. “What just happened? Where did you go?”
Eyes still averted, Cary shrugged. “I don’t know. Sorry.”
“Come on.” Ryan took his hand and urged him onto his back on Ryan’s bed. He straddled his thighs and stroked Cary’s chest, teasing his nipples and the light hair sprinkled there. “You’re beautiful.”
Cary opened his mouth as if to argue, but Ryan cut him off by swallowing his cock. Cary was already hard and leaking, and Ryan traced the vein on the underside of his shaft with his tongue as he reached down and caressed Cary’s balls and the sensitive skin behind them. He wanted to lift Cary’s ass and bury his face there with his tongue inside, but Cary was already whimpering softly.
Lips stretched wide, Ryan watched as Cary came, his long eyelashes dark on his cheeks, ecstasy written on his slack face. Ryan swallowed as much as he could and licked up the semen that dripped out of his mouth. Cary had been gripping Ryan’s shoulders, and now his hands fell away.
“God. I’ve never…it’s so good with you.”
Ryan stretched out and pulled the duvet over them. He rested his head on Cary’s chest and listened to his heartbeat slow back to normal. “It’s the best it’s ever been.” He skimmed his fingers over Cary’s stomach and circled his belly button. “Better than I dreamed.”
They were quiet, and after a while the rhythm of Cary’s breathing began to lull Ryan to sleep. But then Cary spoke, just a whisper.
“Do you really think I’m a natural?”
Ryan opened his eyes, but kept his head resting where it was. “I do. Is that…okay?”
“When I was thirteen, my dad did that terrible movie—the one with the aliens that farted poisonous gas? Anyway, I had to spend the whole summer in New Mexico. It was so hot you could barely move.”
“Uh-huh?” Ryan wasn’t sure where Cary was going with this, but he waited quietly.
“The director’s son was there too, so we hung out. His name was Matt. We played video games and stuff. He was fifteen. He had an indoor pool at their rental house, and we’d spend hours in there goofing around. One day he dared me to go skinny dipping. So we did, and we were roughhousing and…I’m sure you see where this is going.”
Ryan pressed a kiss to Cary’s chest. “Yeah. Go on.”
“We jerked each other off, and it felt so good. The furthest I’d been with a girl was second base, and this was like…heaven. We did it every day, just hand jobs. But I really wanted to kiss him, and one afternoon in the pool, I did.” Cary went silent.
“What happened?”
“He punched me. Called me a fag. Said if I told anyone what we’d done together he’d tell everyone I was queer and get my father fired. I spent the rest of the summer by myself. I felt guilty every time I jerked off because I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Matt, or some other guy. It had only been for a second when I kissed him, but it wasn’t like kissing girls. It turned me on in a different way.”
Cary still sounded so ashamed, and it twisted Ryan’s heart. He caressed Cary’s stomach. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I…I know. But I don’t think my father would agree. I may be named after Cary Grant—and the irony is not lost on me considering the rumors about him—but my dad and grandfather are old-school Republicans. They’d freak if they knew about me. That I’m…whatever I am.”
“Gay? You can say it. It won’t bite.”
“Maybe.”
“But you can’t say it out loud yet.” Ryan wished it didn’t make his chest ache hollowly. He wanted to sit up and see Cary’s face but part of him was afraid to look.
“The thing is that I don’t know if that’s the right word. After Matt, I never went near another guy. I told myself it was a phase—just part of growing up. And I really thought it was. Or at least I convinced myself for a while. I’ve slept with a lot of women, and I liked it. I wasn’t faking. I love tits and pussy.”
“Okay.” Ryan grimaced. “I can’t relate, but there’s nothing wrong with that. And you also like cock. Clearly.”
Cary ran his hand down Ryan’s back and over his butt. “And ass. And strong, hairy, male bodies. Cock is…fuck, it’s amazing. So what does that make me? Bi?”
“I guess so.” Ryan pondered it. “Is that how you feel?”
Cary was silent for a long moment that stretched out in the darkness. “Yes,” he rasped. Clearing his throat, he added, “But I didn’t want to admit it. I was afraid.”
Ryan pressed a kiss to Cary’s chest and held him tightly. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. It’s okay. I promise.”
“It wouldn’t bother you if I’m bi?”
“I’ve never considered it until right this second, but…no.” Ryan propped his chin on Cary’s ribs and met his gaze. “I haven’t been with a guy who was bisexual before. At least not that I know of.”
Cary shrugged awkwardly. “I know it must seem weird to you.”
“No, it’s just different. There’s nothing wrong with being bi. Obviously. Plenty of people are. Probably more than want to admit it, or who are afraid to, like you were. As long as you want to be with me, why should it matter? It’s the way you are. And I want you.” It was pathetically needy, but he had to whisper, “You want me too? Right?”
Cary ran his fingertip over Ryan’s lips. “All the time. In every way. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”
Ryan sighed in relief. “I want to kiss you,” he blurted.
A furrow appeared between Cary’s brows. “Okay.” He laughed softly. “I’m right here. Have at it.”
“No, I mean I want to kiss you on New Year’s Eve. I want to tell my family that we’re together. I don’t want to hide it. That was a stupid idea.”
Cary was silent for a long moment. “Okay. Yeah. We can trust them.”
Any lingering uneasiness flared into full-on panic and Ryan tensed from head to toe. “But it’s not like we’re going to be a secret if we’re together. I’m out of the closet, Cary. I’m not going back in.”
“I’m not asking you to!” Cary lowered his voice again. “I just want a little time to figure out who I am before I tell the world.”
Ryan sat up, almost grazing his head on the sloped ceiling. “So what does that mean? Up here you’re my lover, and back in LA we’re just friends again? What happens in Canada stays in Canada?”
“That’s not what I said.” Cary clenched his jaw. “You don’t understand. It’s easy for you. Your family loves you the way you are. My family won’t be like that. And can you imagine if the tabloids got a hold of it? I’m up for the new Michael Bay movie, and I can’t afford bad publicity right now.”
“Oh, so being my boyfriend would be bad PR? Thanks.” Ryan’s temper flared white-hot, and he clambered out of bed and jerked on his pajamas. A voice told him to calm down and not let this spin out of control, but it was lost in a flurry of hurt and fear. “I guess I’m good enough to fuck, but not date.”
“That’s not what I meant! I just want some time to figure things out. The public doesn’t even know I broke up with Amanda yet. My parents don’t know. I can’t get off the plane at LAX holding hands with you.”
“Fine. Maybe we should just stop all this until you decide what you want.” Ryan crossed his arms and took a ragged breath. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops that he was in love with Cary—because he was, without a shadow of a doubt—and it hurt more than he thought possible that Cary wa
nted to wait, no matter how logical or understandable it might be.
Cary threw back the duvet and stalked over to the other side of the room. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it.”
“The way I want it?” Ryan’s voice echoed too loudly in the stillness, and he winced.
“Well, if you want to stop, then we’ll stop.” Cary tugged on his pajamas and climbed into bed. He turned on his side and faced the wall.
After a few moments of impotent pacing, Ryan got back in his own bed. The sheets smelled of Cary, and he could still taste him on his tongue. As Ryan willed sleep to come, he blinked back tears and wondered how things had managed to get so messed up, so quickly.
Chapter Six
“Good afternoon!” Maureen called out.
“Ha-ha.” Ryan shuffled into the kitchen. “It’s not even eleven. Besides, I’m on West Coast time.”
“You’ve been here more than a week! And by that logic, Cary’s on West Coast time, but he’s been out with your father and Tony for hours. We’re not going to have room in the freezer for all these bloody fish.” She stood at the counter, cleaning the latest batch and separating them into freezer bags with an affectionate smile. “But it makes him happy.”
“Mom…” Ryan wasn’t sure what he could even ask. He’d woken with his stomach in knots, hating himself for fighting with Cary.
“Hmm?” She expertly filleted the fish, removing the bones and tossing them aside.
“Nothing. So fish for Boxing Day dinner?”
“Not on your life. Crown roast of pork, thank you very much.”
“Gran! Are you ready to go yet?” Amy barreled into the kitchen.
Ryan tickled Amy. “Where are you off to?”
She giggled. “We’re going to the Morgan’s down the road to play. If Gran will ever finish.”
“Gran will finish you if you keep talking like that,” Lisa admonished. “You want to come along, Ryan? Greg and Kathy are up with the kids. Kids can play and we can have a nice grown-up lunch. Dad and Tony—”
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