A Christmas Promise

by K. C. Wells

  Micah switched off the engine. “There’s a bus ride that takes you all through the park,” he told Greg. “That way, you get to see everything.”

  Greg smiled. “I saw plenty coming in.” It wasn’t as though you could miss the park: brightly lit signs pointed the way all along the highway. There had been one heart-stopping moment before they’d turned right off South Douglas Highway onto Garner Lake Road: just after the turn, Greg spotted Jake’s Tavern, and the sight had been enough to send cold shivers down his spine.

  Then Micah reached across and found Greg’s hand. He squeezed it gently, and Greg breathed a little easier.

  “Naomi was right. This is just what you need to banish the blues,” Joshua said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

  Greg blinked and turned his head to stare at Micah.

  “Dad? Let’s go wait by the fire for the next bus. Micah, you and Greg stay in the car. Greg can’t stand anyway, so we’ll come get you when the bus comes in, okay?” Naomi all but pushed Joshua out of the car. They walked rapidly across the lot to the firepit, where several people were already waiting, stamping their feet and warming their hands on the flames.

  Greg cleared his throat. “Just what I need to banish the blues, huh?” He was trying not to laugh. Micah couldn’t lie his way out of this: Joshua had let the cat out of the bag.

  Micah coughed. “Okay, so I may have twisted the truth a little, but Dad’s right. You needed this.”

  “So all that about doing a little more to get your dad in the Christmas spirit… that was bullshit, right?” Greg shook his head. “You didn’t tell Joshua I wanted to come, did you? This was all a ruse to get me out of my room.”

  “Not just you—my dad too.” Micah heaved a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. You seemed so low, and I couldn’t bear to see you like that. Then Naomi came up with this stupid plan, and I—”

  “I never said it was stupid,” Greg blurted out. His heartbeat raced. “I think it was a great idea. Now tell me why it was so important that I came too.” He prayed it wasn’t merely altruism on Micah’s part. Not that.

  “I….” Micah took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut.

  Greg wanted to scream. Instead, he changed the subject. “The lights are beautiful.” The glimpses he’d gotten as they drove into the park had brought back a sense of childlike wonder.

  “They are,” Micah agreed, “but there’s something here more beautiful than any of the displays.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You.”

  Greg’s breath caught in his throat. “What?”

  Micah smiled. “You heard me.”

  “I did, but I seem to be having trouble believing it.” Because it sounded to Greg like—

  The creak of leather as Micah shifted in his seat, a gentle hand cupping Greg’s cheek, then two lips brushed against his. Greg breathed in Micah’s scent, the fragrance that still clung to his hair from the shower he’d taken, and the merest hint of spicy cologne. The kiss was tender, deliberate, and set his pulse racing. Micah’s fingers traced the contours of his face, and still he kissed Greg, his lips warm and silky.

  Micah broke the kiss and pulled back to gaze at him. “Now do you believe me?” he murmured.

  Greg smiled, his heart dancing. “I think I may need a little more proof.”

  Micah’s grin sent warmth flooding through him. “I can provide that.” And before Greg could utter another word, Micah’s fingers caressed his neck as he brought their mouths together in another languid kiss. This time Greg closed his eyes and gave himself up to the intimate connection, his hands on Micah’s head and shoulder, letting out a tiny noise of contentment when Micah’s tongue parted his lips. Greg opened for him without reservation, sighing inwardly when Micah made low noises of approval.

  As first kisses went, this was sublime.

  Slowly, Micah drew back, his breathing slightly faster. “We’d better stop, or we’ll miss the bus to see the lights.”

  Greg opened his eyes wide. “There are lights?”

  A tap on the window made them both jump. Naomi was grinning at them through the window.

  “Do you think she saw anything?” Greg said in a low voice.

  Micah snorted. “I’m starting to think she engineered the whole situation from the beginning.” Naomi was looking pretty smug. He opened the window. “Yes?”

  “The bus is here,” she said, her grin not diminishing in the slightest. “Unless you two want to catch the next one? Dad and I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be alone.” She batted her lashes.

  “God, you’re insufferable when you’re smug.” Micah closed the window and turned to Greg. “Ready for a bus ride?”

  “As long as we continue this… conversation when we get home.” Greg didn’t want to lose this gloriously happy feeling.

  “I promise.” Micah leaned in quickly and kissed Greg on the lips. “A little more proof,” he said with a smile. “Now let’s go stare at the pretty lights that can’t hold a candle to you.”

  Greg waited for Micah to come around to his side of the car, to help him. All the while, his head was in a whirl.

  Micah kissed me.

  Greg wasn’t entirely sure who to thank—God, or Santa.

  “I’m bushed. I’m going to bed.” Naomi kissed Micah on the cheek. “Sweet dreams. I don’t have to guess who’ll be in them, right?”

  Micah grabbed her arm before she could walk away. “Okay, truth time.” Greg was in the bathroom and Dad was in his office. “Did you plan that?”

  Naomi gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Plan what?”

  Micah snorted. “You haven’t been able to pull off innocent for years, so don’t even try. That whole trip to see the lights—leaving Greg and me alone in the car—was that all part of a plan? And if it was, how much did Dad know?” He still couldn’t believe how quickly Dad had agreed to the trip in the first place.

  Naomi glanced down to where he still held her arm. Micah let go, and she sighed. “I just felt you two needed a little push in the right direction. It meant leaving a lot to chance, that you’d actually get up enough nerve to kiss him, but I figured with the romantic setting, the odds were in my favor.”

  “You… conniving, scheming, manipulative little—”

  “But to answer your question,” she interjected. “Yes, Dad knew. When you went to ask Greg, I took Dad aside and told him I thought you and Greg were interested in each other. I said all you needed was a little time on your own, in the right setting. He said go for it.”

  “Dad… approved of your matchmaking?”

  She smiled. “Micah, he really, really likes Greg. I do too. I think you’re perfect for each other. The only ones who couldn’t see it were you two.” She leaned into him and hugged him. “Is it so hard to believe that we just want you to be happy?” Then she straightened. “So if we’re done, I’m going to bed. Just one last thing.” Her eyes gleamed. “I made certain there was plenty of mistletoe around here. At least try to get some use out of it?” And with that, she darted out of the kitchen, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

  Micah stared after her, stunned.

  From behind him, Dad cleared his throat. “I think I’ll go off to bed too. It’s been a long day.” He patted Micah on the back. “Don’t stay up too late.” Dad poured himself a glass of water and went to leave the kitchen.

  No way was Micah about to let him off that easily. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”

  Dad came to a halt and turned slowly to face him. “Since the day you told me and your mom that you were gay, I’ve been waiting for you to bring someone home to meet us. All the way through college, we wondered if you’d met someone, but were too shy to bring him home. When you graduated, and still there was no one, we told ourselves it was good that you weren’t rushing into anything. When the Supreme Court ruled in 2015, your mom was overjoyed. She said she was gonna live to see both our kids married.” His face tightened. “Yeah, well… What I’m trying to say here is�
�.” He drew in a deep breath. “I just want you to be happy. And tonight, when I saw you and Greg together….” Dad smiled. “You looked happy,” he said simply.

  Micah chuckled. “Dad, that was our first kiss. Don’t go making wedding plans just yet, okay?”

  “But you do like him?” Dad gazed at him steadily.

  Micah sighed. “It’s more than like. I still need to find out where he stands.”

  “Then stop talking to me, and go talk to Greg!” Dad shook his head. “To quote a line from one on your mom’s favorite movies… youth is wasted on the wrong people.” Muttering under his breath, he went to his room.

  Micah waited until the house was quiet. There was no sign of Greg, so Micah figured he was in his room. He turned off the lights everywhere and was about to head that way, when something caught his eye. Micah grinned. Seeing as Naomi had gone to so much trouble….

  He knocked quietly on Greg’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Micah stuck his head around it. Greg was lying on his bed, arms folded behind his head. He smiled at Micah. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “I haven’t come empty-handed.” Micah held up the sprig of mistletoe.

  Greg’s smiled widened. “In that case, you’d better get in here.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Micah entered Greg’s bedroom and closed the door quietly behind him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Greg patted the bed beside him. “Sit here, there’s plenty of space.” It took him a moment to realize he was nervous. When they arrived home after the trip to the lights, he’d wanted to take Micah aside and talk to him, only the timing wasn’t right. For one thing, he was conscious of Naomi’s scrutiny, not to mention Joshua’s glances. Greg had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he guessed they’d have to wait for a more opportune time.

  He hadn’t figured on Micah taking matters into his own hands.

  Micah came around the bed, but instead of sitting, he stretched out on his side, his head propped up on his hand, his gaze focused on Greg, the sprig of mistletoe on the bed between them.

  Greg had had more than enough scrutiny for one night. “So, were you right? Was this whole evening part of some scheme of Naomi’s?”

  Micah laughed, nodding. “She involved my dad too.”

  Greg blinked. “No kidding.”

  “Yeah. We talked just now in the kitchen. Dad made me realize you and I have some talking to do of our own.”

  That was the opening Greg was looking for. “How about we start with that kiss?” His heartbeat sped up at the memory of Micah’s lips pressed against his. “Was that an out-of-the-blue thing, or had you been thinking about it for a while? Because you sure took me by surprise.”

  Micah sighed. “I didn’t plan it, but… yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

  “You… you have?”

  “I guess I held back, because… you were hurting, there was so much going on….” Micah smiled. “I’m assuming you didn’t mind.”

  “Wasn’t it obvious?” Greg took a deep breath. “You’ve set the bar very high, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That was my first kiss from a guy.”

  Micah’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Greg nodded. “It’ll take a lot to beat that.” Not that he wanted anyone else, but Micah didn’t need to hear that right then. There was no way Greg was going to scare him like that.

  “I had no idea.”

  Greg chuckled. “I only came out at Thanksgiving, remember?”

  Micah nodded slowly. “Your epiphany. You did say you’d tell me. Well, now is as good a time as any.”

  Greg had had the same thought. “It only struck me a few weeks ago that my dad and I weren’t so different. We were both loners. And I never really had girlfriends to speak of, but it never bothered me. I always assumed I’d know when I met the right person. So there I was, in the last year of my MBA, and I was finally dating someone. Her name was Caroline. She was a sweet girl, intelligent, and good company. We were… comfortable with each other, I guess.”

  “What happened to change that?”

  “We were at her place, and we were kissing on her couch. Well, after five minutes or so, Caroline just… stopped. I did too, thinking something was wrong. I mean, I’d never made out with anyone before, but I didn’t think I’d overstepped any boundaries. Anyhow, she stared at me for a minute or so, and then she said the oddest thing.” He could still hear her words in his head. “She smiled and said, ‘You’re not really into this, are you?’ I wasn’t sure whether I should be insulted or relieved. She was right, of course. I didn’t feel…anything, and I was horrified that it had been that obvious.”

  Micah laid a hand on his chest, and Greg welcomed its warmth, the connection between them.

  “Then she peered at me and said, ‘Do you think you might be gay?’ I guess my jaw dropped, because she smiled and said, ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But maybe you’re more attracted to men than women.’”

  “You’d never considered it before then?” Micah asked.

  Greg shook his head. “Like I said, I kept to myself. I had a few friends, sure, but I wasn’t attracted to any of them. But once she’d said that, it got me thinking. Was she right? Was I gay? I spent the following weeks analyzing every look I got, every time I noticed a guy. I had to admit in the end that it was a possibility. Not that I took any steps to prove that theory, one way or another.”

  “Then what happened?”

  Greg smiled. “Nothing. No guys suddenly crawled out of the woodwork. I didn’t fall hopelessly in love with anyone. I wasn’t even remotely attracted to anyone. I got on with my life. I finished my studies, and that was when I learned about my dad’s diagnosis. I packed a suitcase, and told my mom I was going to stay with him. No way was I going to let him be alone. Job hunting could wait.” It hadn’t been an easy time, but he’d shared enough heartache with Micah: he wasn’t about to share even more.

  “I think that was awesome,” Micah said softly. “What did your dad die from?”

  “Pancreatic cancer.” Greg swallowed. He’d been in so much pain. “When he’d gone, I stayed for a month in his house. I didn’t do a great deal, mainly sleeping and reading. I knew I’d have to return to reality at some point. The funeral had taken place, but I was in no hurry to go home. As for the letter…” He sighed. “I could have stuck it in a mailbox. Much simpler that way. After all, I’d found your dad’s address. But something inside kept gnawing away at me, and I decided to deliver it in person. By that point, I’d just about run out of money, so hitchhiking was the only option. I wasn’t that concerned: Wright was only nine or ten hours away. And the rest you already know.”

  “Not quite.” Micah stroked his chest. “I told you I’d been wanting to kiss you a while ago. But when I kissed you tonight… you wanted it too, didn’t you?”

  Greg nodded. It was a relief to be able to say what had been on his heart these last few weeks. “It didn’t take me long to realize I had a crush on you, so I guess I finally had my answer. Then when you kissed me…” He smiled. “That was all the proof I needed.”

  Micah grinned. “Yup. Definitely gay.”

  Greg picked up the mistletoe. “I suppose we should see if this works. I mean, it might be defective.” His heart hammered, and his breathing sped up.

  “Absolutely.” Micah took it from him and held it above their heads. “So how does this work again?” He was smiling.

  “Something like this.” Greg cupped the back of Micah’s head and pulled him down into a kiss, not bothering to hold back from the pleasure he now knew was to be found when those lips met his. Micah shifted closer, his chest on Greg’s, the mistletoe dropping onto the bed as he explored Greg’s mouth, his tongue pushing deep inside. Greg moaned softly and stroked Micah’s back, cursing his inability to move the way he wanted.

  And then he had to go and yawn. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. That w
asn’t a comment on your technique, honest.” Who the hell yawns mid-kiss?

  “That’s a relief.” Micah chuckled and pulled back. “It’s okay, really. I think the trip wore you out. And it is getting late. Maybe we should postpone this until we’ve both had some sleep.”

  Greg had no problem with that whatsoever. It wasn’t that he didn’t want things to move on apace, but he had to admit he was nervous about the prospect. “Sounds good to me.” He kept his voice even.

  Micah widened his eyes. “Oh my God. It’s only just sunk in.”

  “What?”

  He smiled, his eyes kind. “What you were saying, about dating… You’re a virgin.”

  Greg swallowed. “And is that a problem?”

  Micah moved slowly, like molasses in winter, until his lips were inches from Greg’s. “Not for me. And I’m in no hurry, all right?”

  Something eased inside Greg, and he shuddered out a breath. “Thank you.” He knew he needn’t have worried: he trusted Micah. And then he gave himself up to a slow, tender kiss that made his toes curl and sent warmth surging through his body.

  “Good night,” Micah murmured against his lips, before finally pulling back and climbing off the bed. “Sleep well.” He smiled. “And sweet dreams.” Micah walked toward the door.

  “Only if you’re in them,” Greg flung back at him.

  Micah paused and turned to look at him. “Then I’ll have to see what I can do about that.” He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Greg stared at it, still processing the night’s events. He kissed me. He’s interested in me. He fucking wants me. That last part was a bit of a leap, but the implication was certainly there, especially after his comment about Greg’s virginity not being a problem.

  Greg suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to dream about. The only drawback was the lack of lube. A licked palm wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.

  I think I need to go shopping.

  Greg put the phone down and sat back in Joshua’s chair, smiling. “Well, it looks like I’ll be in the black again soon.”