by K. C. Wells
Only that wasn’t where he wanted it. And Micah didn’t want to wait any longer. He straddled Greg and leaned forward to kiss him. “You ready?”
Greg’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “You’re kidding, right? I think I’ll blow the second I’m inside you.”
Micah smiled. “We can always do it again, okay?”
A sigh shuddered out of him. “Yeah. Okay.”
Micah reached for the lube and slicked up a couple of fingers. He lowered his head until his lips brushed against Greg’s. “Kiss me,” he whispered.
Greg let out a low moan, his hands on Micah’s nape and head, pulling him into a deep, toe-curling kiss. Micah explored him leisurely, while reaching back to slide his fingers into his own ass.
“What are you doing back there?”
Micah grinned. “Something you get to do, another time.” He ran his tongue over Greg’s nipple, loving the shivers that multiplied through him. Then it was back to kissing, until both of them were breathless.
When they parted, Micah looked him in the eyes. “You are going to lie here and let me do all the work, you got that?” Greg made a soft noise at the back of his throat, and Micah stared at him. “I mean it. Keep that leg still.” When Greg pulled a face, Micah whispered in his ear, “There will be other times, baby. I promise. But for now, I don’t want you hurting. Okay?”
Greg’s gaze locked on his. “Okay.” His lips twitched. “Now can we make love?”
Micah’s heart soared at Greg’s words. “God, yes.”
Greg wanted to slow down time, to savor the moment, but all too soon, he was lost in the heat and tightness of Micah’s body as he slowly impaled himself on Greg’s gloved dick. Greg held still, badly wanting to move, but not daring. He loved how Micah bided his time, carefully lowering himself until at last, Greg was inside him. The sensations took his breath away.
Then Micah began to move, a slow rocking back and forth, his hands on Greg’s chest, and fuck, that was exquisite. Greg grabbed Micah’s ass, caressing and squeezing the firm flesh, crying out when Micah’s movements sped up. “Oh, God.”
Above him, Micah nodded. “I know. Feels so good.” He wrapped one hand around his own dick, tugging.
“Too good,” Greg groaned. “Not sure if I can—” And then Greg was coming, balls tingling as he filled the condom, stifling the urge to thrust up into Micah, his body jolted over and over again. Micah was shaking, his hand a blur on his cock.
“In my mouth,” Greg cried out. “Micah!”
Micah didn’t hesitate. He held his dick steady, shooting his load in an arc that landed on Greg’s chest, chin and lips. He scooped up come and fed it to Greg, who sucked on his fingers, cleaning them with his tongue.
Micah lay down beside him, and removed the condom. After dropping it into the small trashcan beside the bed, he pressed up against Greg’s body, both of them warm and damp.
“That was over way too fast,” Greg murmured sleepily.
Micah craned his neck and kissed Greg on the lips. “Then the next time will be better. And the time after that. And the time after that….”
Greg gave a drowsy chuckle. “Like the way you think.”
Micah pulled the comforter over them, and rested his head on Greg’s shoulder. Greg breathed in Micah’s scent, and let out a soft sigh of contentment, before drifting off into a deep, velvety sleep.
Chapter Twenty
Micah woke up to find a warm body snuggled against him, and it was heaven. About as heavenly as the memories of the two of them, making love. He could still recall the expression of awe and sheer pleasure on Greg’s face as he came. His disgruntled comments about the speed of it all had been comical.
Micah wouldn’t have changed one second of it. Those intimate moments had been like nothing he’d ever experienced, and he could only think of one thing to account for that.
This is what it must feel like to make love, not just have sex. To have the heart engaged, as well as the body.
Then it hit him. He’d spent the night in Greg’s room, and that was bound to be noticed. Dad was a creature of habit, after all.
Micah listened intently. From the kitchen came faint voices, and the unmistakable aroma of roasting turkey that seeped under the closed door.
It was official. They were in trouble.
He nudged Greg gently. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
Greg shifted, soft noises escaping as he reached for Micah. “Hey. Morning.”
“Never mind morning. It’s gone nine o’clock already.”
Greg’s eyes popped open. “What?”
Micah nodded. “They’ve already got the turkey in the oven.” Naomi was never going to let him forget this. And as for Dad? It was bad enough he’d caught them in the bathroom together.
Greg sat up slowly. “I slept like a log. It was wonderful.” Then he clammed up when someone knocked on the door.
“Boys?” Dad coughed. “There are two mugs of coffee out here on the hall table. Whenever you’re ready.”
“What do you mean, whenever they’re ready?” Naomi called out from the kitchen. “We’re sitting around here, waiting for those two so we can—” Seconds later there was a loud rap on the door. “Get your butts out here. I am not doing this all by myself, because do you really want Dad cooking? And there are presents to be opened, for God’s sake!” Loud snorts and mutterings grew quieter as she stomped off down the hall.
Dad cleared his throat. “What she said.” Then there was silence.
Micah glanced at Greg, who promptly burst out laughing. “Well, that’s us told.” He bit his lip and wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know about you, but I really need a shower.”
Micah nodded. “You go shower. I’ll go upstairs—after I’ve calmed the storm out there.” Before he could climb out of bed, Greg laid a gentle hand on his arm.
“In case I forget to tell you? Last night was… awesome. Every single minute of it. And that includes falling asleep with you.”
Naomi be damned. Micah pushed Greg’s tousled hair away from his face, leaned in, and kissed him, a chaste, sweet kiss that was more ‘you-are-adorable’ than ‘let’s-do-it-all-again.’ “You felt amazing. And I loved curling up with you.”
Greg’s face flushed. “And if you need anything today, just ask, all right?”
Micah kissed his cheek, then got out of bed. He pulled on his robe, and cautiously opened the door. There was no one in sight. Micah turned and smiled at Greg. “The coast is clear.”
Greg chuckled. “Don’t forget your coffee.”
Micah closed the door and stepped into the hallway. It wasn’t until he was at the kitchen door, a mug in his hand, that the significance of Greg’s words struck him.
Mom. And I’d forgotten. Then he realized something. The pain and grief that had numbed him the previous Christmas was still present, but robbed of its intensity somehow. It’s true. Time is a great healer. Only, Micah knew it was more than that. He would always have his memories, but now he wanted to make new ones—with Greg.
And how long will it be before he leaves?
Just like that, Micah’s newfound peace deserted him.
He entered the kitchen, his heart heavy. Dad was cracking eggs into a bowl. He glanced up as Micah approached. “Well, good morning.” Another glance, this time to the wall clock. “Yep, it’s still morning.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Dad.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Dad snickered and went back to his eggs. Across the table from him, still dressed in her red pajamas, Naomi glared.
“And where’s the other one?”
“Having a shower.” Micah knew exactly what was going on. Naomi was simply swapping her grief for another strong emotion, and feigned anger would do just as well. He met her gaze and nodded once, just to let her know he was on to her. “Merry Christmas, sis.”
Naomi got up from her chair, walked over to him, and hugged him tightly. “Right back atcha,” she whispered. Naomi released him and stepped back, coughing. “Dad dec
ided to make breakfast this morning. Be afraid. Be very afraid.”
Dad brandished his fork. “Remarks like that will result in certain people being put on vegetable preparation duty, and that may even include doing the dishes.”
Naomi smiled sweetly. “That’s what we have a dishwasher for.”
Dad’s smile was equally sweet. “And your father is very handy with a wrench. Bear that in mind. Appliances have been known to break down when you least expect it.” He chuckled when Naomi gasped, and winked at Micah. “That shut her up.” He laid his fork on the countertop. “I’ll wait until Greg’s out of the shower before I start cooking. Call me when you’re ready to eat.” And with that, he left the kitchen.
Naomi gave Micah an innocent look. “Thought you’d give water conservation a miss this time, huh?” She pushed her tongue into her cheek.
Micah fired her a warning glance, before staring in the direction of Dad’s office. “How is he this morning?” he asked quietly.
Naomi’s mood changed instantly. She sighed. “I tried to keep him focused on other things—and thank you for that, by the way. He came downstairs to tell me you weren’t in your room. Didn’t take him long to figure out where you were.”
“Was he okay about it?” Micah could only imagine what had gone through his dad’s head.
“Surprisingly, yeah.” Naomi smiled. “Something else I have to thank you for.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve kinda paved the way for when I invite Si—when I invite someone to stay here.”
“Oh really?” Micah grinned. “All right, who is he?”
Naomi sniffed. “I plead the Fifth.”
Micah snorted. “You’re pre-med, not pre-law. And you know I’ll get it out of you, one way or another.”
“You can try,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Now get your butt upstairs and get cleaned up, so we can open some goddamn presents.” She gave him another glare. “At this rate it’ll be midnight before you get your act together.”
He laughed and headed for the stairs. When he reached his room, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it.
He had the feeling it was going to be a long, long day.
Naomi collected the plates and mugs, and loaded them into the dishwasher. “Okay,” she said triumphantly. “Now can we open presents?”
Joshua shook his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have put them under the tree before I went to bed,” he told Greg and Micah. “She’s been like a six-year-old since she got up and saw them.”
Greg sighed. “I did the same thing last night.”
“In that case, let’s just give her the wrapping paper from ours, and she can play with that.” Micah gave Naomi an innocent smile. “You’d be happy with that, right, sis?”
Greg snorted when he saw the glare Naomi gave her brother. “Yeah, right. I wouldn’t say stuff like that if she was my sister. I like my balls where they are.” Then he realized what he’d said, and he widened his eyes. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. That just slipped out.”
Joshua stared at him for a moment, and then guffawed. “No need to apologize, son. You’re sorta one of the family now.”
Greg didn’t miss the way Micah’s face tightened. What was that? But before he could analyze it further, Naomi dove out of the room, heading for the living room.
Joshua sighed. “No point putting off the inevitable, I guess.” He followed her out of the room.
Now that was a reaction Greg understood. This had to be hard on Joshua: a time of joy mingled with sorrow. For a moment he found himself thinking about his own dad. I wish we could have shared one more Christmas. Not that he could recall the Christmases from his childhood. Apart from their initial meeting, their brief time together had only spanned the five months leading up to his death.
Micah’s hand was at his elbow. “Come on, Hopalong. Let’s go sit in front of the fire and see what Santa has brought.”
“I know what I want for Christmas,” Greg murmured. When Micah gazed at him quizzically, he smiled. “More nights like last night.”
“I think that can be arranged,” Micah said softly. His face tightened for a fleeting moment, then straightened. “Although I doubt you’ll find that under the tree.”
Greg doubted it too.
He followed Micah into the living room, where the tree was already a blaze of light and color, and the fire pushed out warmth into every corner. Joshua was in his armchair, and Greg’s footrest stood next to the couch. He sat down, lifting his leg up onto the pillows, Micah beside him.
Naomi knelt on the floor at the foot of the tree, peering at the prettily wrapped packages.
“Seeing as I’m still in my red jammies, I’ll play Santa.” She picked up one present, and Greg recognized it. “For Joshua, from Greg.” Naomi weighed it experimentally in one hand. “Ooh, heavy.” She passed it to Joshua, before picking up a smaller package. “Another from Greg, this time for Micah.” Her eyes gleamed. “Wonder what’s inside?” She shook it.
“Hand it over, Santa.” Micah held out his hand.
She huffed, but did as instructed. “And here’s one for Greg, from Micah. Another heavy one.” She got up and brought it over to him, before diving back to the tree. “Aha! One for me—a light, squishy one, from Greg.”
For the next minute or so, the only sound in the room was that of tearing paper. Joshua cackled. “A cookbook?” He peered at Greg, grinning. “You trying to tell me something, son?”
Greg shrugged. “I figured you might have had enough of these two insulting you all the time. Maybe it’s time to show them what you’re made of.”
Joshua nodded, his eyes gleaming. “Exactly. And I get to experiment on them too.” He regarded Greg warmly. “Thank you.”
“Oh, these are great!” She held up the T-shirts for her dad to see. One had MEH in large letters across the front, another had In Memory Of When I Cared, and the third, This Is What AWESOME looks like. She beamed at Greg. “These are so me!”
He had to laugh at her reaction. “Funny—that thought occurred to me too.”
Naomi flew across the space between them and hugged him. “Thank you. Wow, you got to know me so fast!” When she released him, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “So glad you’re here. It’s gonna be such a pity when you have to leave.”
For a second, Greg’s heart stuttered, but he said nothing. Everything was still up in the air.
“Oh, Greg. It’s beautiful,” Micah said in an awed tone. He held the stainless-steel bracelet, inset with pieces of abalone.
“I wanted to get you something that an artist would appreciate. The colors in the abalone are just gorgeous.”
Micah nodded. “I agree. But… when did you get this?”
Joshua coughed. “He may have had a little help.”
Micah laughed, and leaned across to kiss Greg, not on the cheek as Naomi had done, but on the mouth. Nor was it a peck on the lips either.
Micah kissed him like a lover.
It took Greg all of one second to respond, lifting his hands to cup Micah’s face. He wasn’t going to hide his feelings, not after that display of affection. When Micah broke the kiss, he stared at Greg. “Wow.”
Greg smiled. “Ditto.” He tore the wrapping paper from the heavy square package, to find a plain white box, filled with polystyrene pieces. Carefully he removed the top layer, to see the gleam of glass. He removed the rest of the packaging, and lifted out the object. “It’s a snow globe.” Then he frowned. “Isn’t that the Devil’s Tower?” Around the thick base was emblazoned the word, Wyoming.
“Yup.” Micah gave a nod of approval. “I’m impressed that you recognize it.”
Greg had to chuckle. “One of my favorite movies of all time is Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” He turned the globe upside down. “Aw, damn.”
“What’s wrong?”
He grinned. “I was looking for the key to turn, so it could play de-de-de-de-deeeee. And the only way you could improve on this? Instead of snow f
loating around it, it should have little glittery UFOs.”
Micah smiled. “I wanted to give you something to remember your stay in Wyoming. So… do you like it?”
Greg kissed him on the lips. “I love it. Not that I needed something to remind me of Wyoming.” Micah had already claimed his heart.
Naomi’s impatient, loud sigh broke the moment. “When you two have finished, Misters Kissy McKissy Face…”
Greg laughed so hard, he almost coughed up a lung.
Micah got up from the couch. “I haven’t wrapped your present yet, Dad. I just need to go find it.” He left the living room.
Joshua put down his cookery book. “Thank you,” he said quietly, not meeting their gaze. “Today was never gonna be easy, but this is better than I thought it would be. For the first time in a long while, I feel like your mom wouldn’t be pissed if she walked through that door. She might even smile.” He gazed at the tree. “And she’d love this.”
Naomi got up and moved to sit beside his armchair, her head on his knee. Joshua stroked her long hair. Silence fell, but it wasn’t awkward.
Micah walked into the room, holding a large, flat object, and Greg knew immediately what it was. He handed it to his dad. “I only finished it last night, so it’s not ready for hanging yet, but…”
Joshua stared at the portrait, his brown eyes large and round. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wiped them away. “Oh, Micah. It’s her. It’s really her.” He lifted his head and smiled. “Thank you, son. You couldn’t have chosen a more perfect gift.” Carefully he put down the canvas and stood up, his arms wide. Micah stepped into the circle of those arms and they hugged in silence.
Greg watched them, his heart aching. The love they shared, and the ways in which they shared it, was nothing short of wonderful. If anything, the sight only firmed his resolve.
