A Christmas Promise

by K. C. Wells

  From the couch, Joshua glanced up. “It all sounded very straightforward.”

  Greg nodded. The lawyer had been expecting his call, just like Dad had explained in his letter. “He’s emailing me a document to sign, then the funds will be deposited in my bank account by the end of next week. And he says the deeds to the house are already in my name: Dad saw to that before he died.”

  Joshua smiled. “A man of property. What will you do with it? Will you live in it, or sell it?”

  Greg gazed at him. “If I’m honest? Right now, I have no idea. I can’t think beyond getting this cast off my leg. I know I need to think about job applications, but it’s not as if I’m going to attend any interviews like this, right?” He gestured to his leg.

  “I’d also guess you have no idea where you’ll end up,” Joshua added. “I mean, you could go back to California, right?” He leaned forward. “If you wanted to, of course. I don’t know, maybe there are other factors to consider.”

  Greg didn’t need to be a genius to read between the lines. Joshua wasn’t talking about Greg’s job prospects—he was thinking of Micah. Hell, if he’d seen them last night, he knew things had changed a little. Well, more than a little. He could hear Joshua’s unspoken question, clear as day; Are you going to leave and break my son’s heart?

  For one thing, Greg didn’t believe Micah’s heart was that fragile. For another, right then he had no freaking idea where this was going. He couldn’t reassure Joshua because he wasn’t going to make promises he couldn’t keep.

  “I’m not about to make any vital decisions just yet,” Greg said truthfully. “Right now, my goals are to get rid of this cast, walk without these crutches, and get my life back to some semblance of normality.” He smiled. “That’s not so much to ask, is it?”

  “Those are good goals,” Joshua agreed. “Plus, you get to enjoy a Wyoming Christmas.” He grinned. “Without the turkey feathers.”

  Greg laughed and wiped his brow in exaggerated relief. Then he had an idea. “If I’m financially solvent by the end of next week, I’d like to do a little shopping.”

  Joshua frowned. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I’ll go online first, and do some research, so I can spend as little time on my feet as possible. First item on the list will be a new phone, because it’s been hell being without mine. And I will be buying gifts for you and your family, so you’d better get used to the idea.” Greg set his jaw.

  “Lord, another stubborn one.” Joshua smiled. “We’ll see what we can arrange, okay?”

  That sounded positive. “Okay.” After the way they’d taken him in, cared for him… Greg wanted to show them how much he appreciated everything they’d done. Not that a few gifts would suffice, but how did the saying go?

  It’s the thought that counts.

  Monday morning, and the house was quiet. Dad and Naomi had gotten up early and had gone to Gillette to shop for groceries. Micah had a suspicion Naomi also wanted to do a little gift shopping, so heaven knew when they’d be back. Greg hadn’t surfaced yet, although Micah had heard the faint noise of running water, so evidently, he’d gotten as far as the bathroom.

  Micah added logs to the fire and then switched on the tree lights. Every time he glanced at the beautiful tree, he sent up a prayer of gratitude. He’d never expected his dad to take such a step. Micah could only guess at the profundity of his dad’s grief, but he knew it would take a long time for the rawness of his pain to dull even a little.

  Micah sat in the armchair, warming himself by the fire. The sound of Greg’s shower filtered through, a soothing noise, and he leaned back, closing his eyes. What came to mind was a naked, wet, soapy Greg, and Micah went with it, conjuring up a steamy bathroom, roaming hands, warm, wet kisses, and….

  He sat upright, eyes open. Okay. It has been way too long since I got laid. Not that this was the first time he’d thought of Greg in such terms. Five days since that first kiss, and there had been more, mostly when no one was around. In the studio, in Greg’s room before they said goodnight, whenever they got the chance. It was weird. Naomi and Dad had seen them that night, but that didn’t mean Micah wanted an audience, especially when it comprised of his dad and sister.

  Ew. Just… no.

  “Micah?” Greg’s voice was faint.

  Micah dashed to the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

  “That depends. Are your dad and Naomi still out?”

  Micah arched his eyebrows at the odd question. “Er, yeah.”

  “Then… would you like to come in here and wash my back?”

  Micah had to smile at that. “Wash your back? Really?”

  “Oh, get your butt in here.”

  Micah chuckled and tried the handle. The door wasn’t locked, so he pushed it open. A glass partition closed off the end of the small room, creating a walk-in shower, with a bench at one end. Greg was sitting there, leaning against the tiles, his leg stretched out in front of him, swathed in plastic. In one hand he held the shower head. He smiled, but the rise and fall of his chest revealed his nerves.

  What surprised Micah was that Greg wasn’t the only one. Micah’s heartbeat sped up, and disconcertingly, his dick reacted too. Slowly, he walked over to the glass, Greg’s gaze not breaking contact once. “I suppose, if I’m going to wash your back, I’d better get rid of these clothes.”

  Greg smirked. “Okay, that sounds really cheesy. Like something out of a really bad porno.”

  Micah raised his eyebrows. “And you’d know this how?” He grinned.

  Greg rolled his eyes. “Duh. How old am I? And you’re still dressed.” Despite his nonchalance, that bob of his Adam’s apple betrayed him.

  Micah could help with that.

  He pulled his sweater up and over his head, then his T-shirt was next. Greg watched him intently, his only movement when he hung the shower head on the wall. Micah removed his socks, and straightened. By now his cock was already pushing at his zipper—

  And Greg noticed. He glanced down at Micah’s crotch and swallowed.

  Micah unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper lower, revealing the base of his thickening dick. Of all the days to go commando… He caught the hitch in Greg’s breathing, but deliberately avoided his gaze as he pushed down his jeans, his cock rising, pointing in Greg’s direction like a goddamn homing beacon. His clothing kicked aside, Micah stepped into the shower and stood in front of Greg, grateful for the warm, moist air.

  He figured this was not the time for playing coy. Micah reached for his own dick and pumped it, keeping his movements unhurried. Greg’s gaze met his, and he drew in a deep breath.

  Micah gave him a reassuring smile, his fingers curled around his shaft, giving it another slow tug.

  Greg had his crotch covered with one hand, but as Micah watched, he lowered it, revealing his half-hard dick. Micah’s breathing sped up. “Is that for me?”

  Greg swallowed again. “Possibly.”

  Micah’s gaze flicked up to Greg’s face. “Only possibly?” he teased.

  “Well, it depends. If you’re only going to look at it, then….”

  Micah stepped forward and knelt on the tiles in front of him. He kept his eyes focused on Greg’s as he slid his hand down Greg’s slick torso until his fingers met the damp curls above his cock.

  Greg shivered. “Don’t stop there.”

  Micah traced along the length of his dick with a single finger, until he met the stickiness of Greg’s pre-come. Greg’s lips parted, and a soft noise escaped as Micah brought the finger to his own tongue.

  “Tastes sweet,” he whispered, before bracing one hand on Greg’s right thigh and wrapping his fingers around Greg’s now rigid cock. Micah leaned forward and took Greg into his mouth. Greg shuddered, his hands going to Micah’s head, grabbing onto Micah’s hair as he pushed deeper, his body trembling.

  Micah pulled free and grinned at him. “Sit still, or I stop.”

  Greg groaned, but nodded. “Just so you know? This is gonna be over
real soon.”

  “Then I’d better make it good.”

  Another shudder rippled through Greg as Micah sucked on the head of his cock, swirling his tongue around the ridge, before swallowing and taking his shaft into his throat.

  “Oh, Christ!” Greg stiffened, his hands returning to grasp Micah’s head. That was all the warning Micah got, before warm come pulsed into his mouth, Greg shaking and gasping with every throb of his dick. Micah drank it all down, his hand rubbing Greg’s thigh, moving higher to stroke his balls. When he was sure there wasn’t a drop left, he licked Greg’s cock from head to root, before kissing it tenderly. Then he kissed up Greg’s body until their mouths met. Greg wrapped his arms around Micah and held onto him as Micah explored him.

  When they parted, Greg sighed. “Wow. That was even better than I’d imagined it would be.”

  Micah smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. “And one day when we’re not in a shower, you get to do the same to me.”

  Greg’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, please. But are you sure about the not-in-the-shower part?” His gaze flickered down to Micah’s erection.

  Micah grinned. “You can’t even stand, let alone suck me off. So no, not this time. But don’t worry. I have plans for this.” He stood up and tugged on his aching dick. “I get to come all over your chest, and you get to wash it all off.” He nodded toward the bottle of body wash. “And then I get to wash your back. That is what I’m here for, right?”

  Greg laughed. “Of course.” He cocked his head to one side, and paled. “Oh, shit.”

  Micah groaned. Greg had heard right. “Damn their timing.” His boner would have to wait. “You stay here. I’ll go to my room and dry off there.” He stepped out onto the bathmat and grabbed a towel from the rail. He wrapped it around him and hastily picked up his heap of clothing. Micah went over to the door and listened. “They’re in the kitchen, I think,” he whispered. Slowly and quietly, he opened the door, and—

  Dad was standing outside the bathroom, arms folded, grinning. “Conserving water, are we?”

  From the kitchen, Micah caught Naomi’s groan. “Dad. You are so mean.”

  Dad snickered. “Only because I wouldn’t let you be the one to catch them.” His eyes twinkled. “Need some clean clothes, Micah?”

  Micah rolled his eyes. “I swear, you two…” He gave his dad a stern glance and lowered his voice. “You do not tease him about this, all right? That would not be cool.” Greg would be mortified.

  Dad’s expression changed instantly. “Gotcha. We’d never get him to leave his room again.” He widened his eyes. “It was Naomi’s idea.”

  “Hey, don’t you go throwing me under the bus!” Naomi yelled.

  Micah shook his head. “You’re as bad as each other.” He waited until his dad had gone back to start arguing with Naomi, before sticking his head around the bathroom door. “Come out whenever you want. And don’t mind them.”

  Greg was already drying himself off. He grinned. “Don’t you worry about me. I can give as good as I get.”

  Micah liked this new, confident Greg. “I don’t doubt it.”

  Greg gave him a warm smile. “I’m guessing this is another postponement?”

  Micah chuckled. “Count on it.” Only next time, he’d make sure there were no interruptions.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You know it’s going to be crazy today, right?” Micah said as he switched off the engine. “I mean, who in their right mind goes Christmas shopping the day before Christmas Eve? And on a Saturday too?”

  Greg snorted. “My mom used to go out on Christmas Eve, after about three o’clock. She said by then, all the stores were getting ready for the post-Christmas sales, and she could grab some real bargains.”

  Micah stared at him. “Seriously? Tell me she didn’t drag you along with her.”

  Greg laughed. “Only if I was really unlucky. Damon hated shopping with a passion, so she’d leave him at home with me. And we’re only doing this now because I finally have the money to do it.”

  Micah sighed. “Yeah, I get that, but there are going to be tons of people shopping today. And what if there are no motorized carts around here?”

  Greg had already considered that. He’d looked up Powder Basin Shopping Center online, but hadn’t been able to find any mention of such a thing. “Then we take things nice and slow, all right? I don’t have that much to buy, and if I—or you, for that matter—think I’m getting tired, then we pull the plug. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Then Micah smiled, leaned over and kissed him.

  “What was that for?” Greg loved how Micah’s kisses always made him feel warm inside.

  Micah arched his brows. “I need a reason now to kiss you?” He grinned. “Am I on your Christmas list?”

  “Well, that depends.” Greg kept his face straight. “Have you been a good little boy?”

  Micah’s smile grew wicked and he brushed his lips against Greg’s ear. “I recall you saying last night that I was very good. Mind you, I did have your dick in my mouth at the time, so that may have influenced your decision a tad.”

  Okay, now Greg was hot. He cleared his throat, trying his utmost to avoid adjusting himself. “Your timing sucks, you know that, right?”

  Micah snorted. “You said sucks.”

  “How old are you—twelve?” Greg rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.” First stop was to buy a phone, then he had two stores he wanted to visit, so he had at least one gift each for Naomi and Joshua. He wasn’t going to buy Micah’s gift, not with him right there. Joshua was taking care of that task for him.

  “Where first?”

  Greg pulled out his phone and consulted his notes. “Phone first, then Heaven to Earth. Wherever that is.”

  “That’s okay, I know it.” Micah cocked his head. “But what are you going there for?” Then he held up his hands. “None of my business.”

  Greg chuckled. “Something for your dad. And you’ll laugh when you see it.” He leaned back and grabbed his crutches, knowing that Micah would be there to help him out of the car. If there were no carts, he’d be leaning on Micah a lot that morning.

  Not that that was such a bad thing.

  Greg knew when he was beaten. He was dog tired, his leg ached, and he was starving to boot. “Is there anywhere around here where we can get something to eat?” Micah was carrying his bags: no way could Greg manage them and his crutches. It was looking like he’d badly underestimated how tiring the shopping trip would be, or the toll it would take.

  Micah took one glance at his face and scowled. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? You look like you’re about to fall over right this second.”

  The last thing Greg wanted was Micah worrying about him. “I’m a little tired, but I really am hungry.”

  Micah nodded. “Then we’re going to Perkin’s, just across the parking lot. If you can make it that far, or do I need to fetch the car?” He gave Greg a hard stare. “Just how tired are you?”

  Greg sighed. “Okay, so you can stick a fork in me. Happy now? As soon as we’ve eaten, we can go home. I’ve got everything I came for.” He caught the brief flash of surprise on Micah’s face. Micah couldn’t have missed the fact that Greg had bought gifts for Naomi and Joshua, but nothing for him. Greg had already shopped online for his family, although they’d receive them a little late.

  Don’t worry, honey. I’ve not forgotten you. Greg hoped Joshua had been successful.

  Micah pointed behind them. “It’s this way.”

  Carefully, Greg hobbled in the direction of the restaurant, Micah keeping pace with him, watching anxiously. Greg knew he’d be a lot better off once he was able to sit a while. When they got into the crowded restaurant, a server showed them to a table, and finally he could take the weight off. He stood his crutches against the wall of the booth and sagged against the padded back of the bench, his leg stretched out in front of him.

  Micah handed him a menu. “I just want a quick bite. I want
to get you home.”

  Greg had no problems with that whatsoever.

  By the time the server had taken their orders and he’d drunk a glass of water, he was feeling a little better. It must have showed in his face, because Micah smiled. “You’ve got your color back.”

  Greg nodded. “I’ll feel even better when I get a turkey and avocado BLT inside me. Although I might sneak a bite of your roast beef and swiss cheese.”

  Micah’s eyes glittered. “And I might let you.”

  Just then their server turned up with two full plates, and all conversation was forgotten for ten minutes or so. Greg attacked his sandwich with gusto, and devoured every one of his fries. Another glass of water, and he was feeling human again. He relaxed, listening to the excited chatter around him, children talking animatedly about Christmas.

  I remember being that age. I couldn’t wait for Christmas morning.

  Then he stiffened. Ice crawled sluggishly through his veins and an invisible iron band around his chest constricted his breathing.

  “Greg?” Micah leaned across the table, reaching for his hand. “My God, you’re as white as that table top. What’s wrong?”

  Greg was trembling. Slowly, keeping his head facing forward, he leaned toward Micah. “Behind me,” he whispered. “Are there two guys sitting nearby? Just two guys at a table?”

  Micah looked beyond him. “Yeah. They’re about two tables away from us.” He gripped Greg’s hand tightly. “What is it?”

  Greg swallowed hard. “They’re the two men who attacked me.” He still heard their voices from that night, each time they invaded his dreams.

  Micah gaped. “Are you sure?”

  Greg nodded. “I’d know those voices anywhere. I can’t turn around though. I just can’t.” One look at those guys and he’d break, he knew it. “Does one of them have a reddish beard? Broad shoulders?”

  “Oh, God, yes,” Micah whispered.

  That ice had finally reached Greg’s heart. “Then yeah, it’s them.” He felt sick to his stomach. “Fuck, just listen to them, laughing and joking. Why not? It’s nearly Christmas, and a month or so ago, they beat up another fag. One less homo in the world, right?”