by KC Burn
"No, of course not. That would be too authentic an experience for me, also. I see enough blood in my day job, I'm perfectly happy to pick up neatly packaged chicken breasts and such from the supermarket. I don't mind cooking, though, although I tend to cook mostly Italian dishes. Not sure that's quite what this place would go for."
Fuck. He cooked too? Dean was pretty much hopeless in the kitchen.
"Good thing we're not cooking, because my only skills involve ordering pizza and using the microwave."
Tony tilted his head to the side and let his gaze slowly rake Dean from head to toe. "Really? I never would have guessed. You must work out like a demon."
Heat flooded his cheeks—not his best look, damn it. "Uh, not so much, no. I'm on my feet all day, so it never really seemed like I needed to."
"Huh. Lucky. But if you ever change your mind, I could always use some company at the gym."
Dean wrinkled his nose. "I'll think about it."
"Anyway, let's get in there. Because I'm starving."
Tony grabbed a map as they passed through a building with a modern cash register and gift shop—apparently they hadn't quite passed through the barrier to the nineteenth century.
But when they walked out into the village proper, Dean rocked back on his heels. It reminded him of something he'd seen before, but it was beautiful in a wholly unexpected way. It was all decorated, of course, but it wasn't garish or plasticky. Aside from the whole Santa's workshop theme Dean had set up in his own store, he could have been modeling the majority of his decor on this place, with his heavy reliance on greenery and sumptuous velvet ribbons.
"Pretty, isn't it?" If Tony's words had been smug in any way, it might have made Dean defensive, but there was nothing but wonder.
"It's weird, too. I mean, there's fairly heavy traffic just a short distance away. A university campus. A strip mall and several apartment buildings. And yet, somehow, it feels like we've been transported to another time."
"Well, I think that was the effect they were going for. I've heard the brewery here is pretty decent. You like beer, right?"
"Sure, sometimes. They have a brewery here?"
"Make their own beer right on the premises."
Amazing. "Bet you never visited that during your school trips."
Tony laughed. "Not likely. I don't even know if they were doing that back then, but it's still kinda cool."
That brought a smile to Dean's face. Just looking at Tony, one wouldn't think he'd be interested—at all—in a place like this, one with so much history. But then again, one probably wouldn't expect him to be a nurse who loved Christmas either. Dean couldn't deny that the incongruity made Tony incredibly appealing.
A cluster of people by one of the whitewashed houses was probably where they were headed. "Think we'll have time to look around after dinner?" The fact that he wanted to surprised the shit out of him.
"Sure, it's open until nine thirty. And we'll make sure to hit the brewery." Tony firmly steered him toward the group of people. Guess he wasn't the only one starving.
After dinner, Dean followed Tony back out into the winter night. The only lights came from the gold glow of lanterns and lit up windows. With the recent snowfall still lying heavy on the ground, there was plenty of light to see, but it had a completely different feel to a normal evening in the modern Toronto that Dean was familiar with.
"That was really great, Tony, thank you." The food had been delicious, but Dean was starting to wonder how much Tony had spent on the tickets because he was pretty certain that it was more than, say, dinner at the pub. He wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with that aspect, but he'd still enjoyed himself. And thanks to the three beers with dinner, he was also pleasantly buzzed.
"It was good, wasn't it? The beer, too."
Dean frowned for a second. "Will you be okay to drive?"
"Oh sure. We'll be walking around for a bit, and I put myself through school while bartending. I've got a fairly high tolerance."
"I don't think I've ever had a meal like that before." Shit. Dean hadn't meant that to slip out.
"No? You didn't have turkey and all that growing up?"
Barely restraining a snort of derision, Dean shook his head. Homemade turkey dinners with all the fixings were an indulgence he'd seen on TV, but never experienced. Just thinking of Christmas when he'd been a kid made his shoulders tense and muted his beer buzz. He braced himself for the interrogation. Sometimes, he thought about pretending he was Jewish so he'd have a good excuse for his reluctance to participate in Christmas, but that seemed too dishonest, especially since he knew jack shit about the Jewish faith.
"Wow. That sucks. My mom always makes food like she's trying to reverse famine. There's always turkey and potatoes and all that, but she also makes a bunch of Italian stuff, too. All those years when I was kicking around the country and then going to school, I had dreams about my mom's Christmas dinners."
Dean wanted to ask why Tony hadn't gone home for the holidays during that time, but experience had taught him that slinging questions meant opening himself up for a return volley.
"C'mon. Let's look around." Tony grabbed his hand, and they wandered around the various buildings, hand in hand. The tip of his nose got cold, but there wasn't even a hint of a breeze. Without any wind chill to worry about, it was a gorgeous winter night. He'd never held someone's hand like this, but he couldn't work up any concern about it.
They spent an hour or more following the map and watching a couple of demonstrations. Dean didn't even tense up when they crossed paths with a group of carolers.
"I can't believe this is even here, right in the middle of everything." With all the decorations and period costumes, everything had a very Dickensian feel to it, and Dean was amazed Tony had managed to find a holiday activity that Dean had enjoyed so much.
"I know, right? It's very restful."
Amazingly, Dean agreed, and he made a mental note to come back in the summer, see how things differed. "I wonder if M. Night Shyamalan ever visited here."
Tony guided him around a couple of small kids laughing and playing in the snow, heading away from the throng of people, toward some of the less travelled buildings.
"Who?"
"He's a film maker. Made The Sixth Sense."
"Oh. Yeah, okay, I saw that one. Why would he have visited here? Is he from Toronto or something?"
Dean shrugged. "Huh. No, I don't know. But he also did a movie called The Village, and the setting was a lot like this place. The movie’s not a horror, exactly, and I saw the ending coming a mile away, but it's got some good creepy moments."
"I remember The Sixth Sense being a little freaky, so I guess that makes sense, but don't tell me you think this place is creepy." Tony pulled him around the side of a weathered gray building, out of sight of almost all the festivities. With his back to the wooden wall, Dean took in Tony's furrowed brow and realized Tony had misunderstood his comments.
"No. Honestly, Tony, I'm having a great time. But I'll have to make you watch The Village, so you can see what I mean."
Instantly, Tony's concerned expression vanished, replaced by something altogether hotter and more intense. "I'll hold you to that."
Before Dean could register exactly what he'd promised, Tony's lips landed on his. Cold, but soft and full. The kiss started out slow and gentle, coaxing rather than demanding. There was no sense of impatience, and Tony's hands never strayed below Dean's waist, which knocked another hole in Dean's walls, even as he allowed Tony entrance to his mouth. Unlike the chill of Tony's lips, the tongue languidly dueling with his was so warm. Dean found himself wondering how that agile tongue would feel on his neck, on his cock, rimming him. Lust swamped him, sending blood rushing to his groin and making him shiver. It had been a long time since he'd wanted someone so badly.
He kept waiting for Tony to escalate, but Tony just kissed him. They weren't even standing quite close enough for Dean to tell if Tony was as achingly hard as he was. Just when
he couldn't stand the sensual onslaught any longer, ready to push Tony against the wall and maybe even drop to his knees in the snow, Tony pulled back and smiled at him.
Dean blinked for a moment, the loss of Tony's mouth almost a physical ache. What the hell just happened?
Tony cupped Dean's cheeks and gave him another quick peck. "Jesus, you're good at that. I didn't want to stop, but this isn't really the time or place."
The sound of Christmas carols and children's laughter resounded in Dean's ears, but for a few minutes, it was like the entire world, aside from him and Tony, had disappeared. Tony stepped back, and cold air rushed between them, taming Dean's erection. What was wrong with him? He'd nearly dropped to his knees in a completely public place, heedless of whoever was around. Not that he hadn't done it a time or two in the bathroom of a club, but two men getting their rocks off in a gay club wasn't exactly in the same universe as what he'd almost done.
Tony was bad news, and Dean's breathing stuttered as he considered just leaving now. Running to the entrance and calling a cab to come get him. Delete and block Tony's number. Panic rose up, squeezing his throat.
Tony smiled at him, warm and indulgent. "Don't worry. No one saw anything. But it's getting colder. We should head out. Maybe hit the gift shop on the way."
Just as suddenly as it appeared, the panic receded. Dean had promised Tony three dates, and he could manage to control himself for two more. Tony was so sweet and appealing, and it hadn't taken long for Dean to feel the clawing talons of a growing addiction to the man. Dean wanted a little more sugar in his life before he ruthlessly cut off the supply, returning to his safe, healthy, sane solitude.
"Okay." Dean pulled out his phone for the first time since they'd arrived. Not only had he been enjoying himself, but adding his own anachronism to the setting didn't seem right. He was amazed to see it was almost closing. Still an early night, by all standards, but maybe Tony expected to end the night together in one of their beds.
Dean's cock, still at half-mast, started to plump up again. Sex was something that made sense in Dean's world, but it had been a long time since he'd done anything that resembled dating before getting laid. Dating too often led to feelings, and feelings were more dangerous than hooking up with a stranger. At least in Dean's opinion, they were. Tony might have a more dangerous air about him, but Dean could take care of himself, and condoms prevented other kinds of harm. But feelings... there wasn't any protection from those insidious wee beasties, was there?
With the car parked outside of Dean's building, Tony twisted a little in his seat. "You had a good time, right? Are you a Christmas fan yet?"
Dean let out a spluttered laugh. "No, you haven't quite convinced me yet. But I did have a good time." Dean’s pale cheeks pinked up a bit. Was Dean thinking of their kiss? Tony hadn't been able to think of anything but. Funny thing was, Tony loved kissing and could have kissed Dean for hours, but at the same time, it was nothing short of a miracle that neither of them ended up baring skin. Sure, the cold was a deterrent, but Tony wanted to taste every inch of Dean Murphy.
But Dean was skittish, more skittish than any man Tony had been interested in, and going too fast now would be a mistake, since tonight's date had cemented his first impression. He wanted this man for more than just a night. Or three dates. He'd been accused more than once of making snap decisions, but if he could believe in the magic of Christmas, then he sure as shit could believe in knowing “the one” when he saw him.
"Me too. I had a great time with you." Tony's voice deepened, and Dean's eyes darkened in response.
One more kiss before he left. Tony shifted a little more and plundered the lips he was already feeling quite possessive about.
A tiny moan from Dean as he opened his mouth was like a caress. Tony wanted to hear all of Dean's sounds. What he sounded like getting his cock sucked. The groans and grunts of fucking. The particular tone of Tony's skin slapping against Dean's.
Dean snaked a hand under his sweater, and Tony fed a groan right back into Dean's mouth. God, this mouth. He could kiss it for hours. Days. Forever.
Tony gripped Dean's hair, intensifying their kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues fought, and he couldn't resist. Sliding his other hand under Dean's sweater, he found skin immediately. The crisp texture of hair along Dean's belly had him aching to look, to lick. Although he'd somehow missed the hairy Italian gene, he didn't much care for the artificially smooth manscaping that so many guys indulged in. Perhaps he was a barbarian, but he loved the natural state of a man and that included hair.
He stroked farther up Dean's chest, fingers finding a peaked nub. Underneath his palm, Dean's heart beat heavy and warm. All the signs of desire were there, even without touching or seeing an erection. Without a doubt, one was there, but learning its shape and heft was a lesson for another day. Dean let out another moan, this one almost pleading, making Tony's cock throb.
The sounds of Dean in bed weren't in the cards for tonight. With a Herculean effort, Tony broke the kiss again. Somehow, he'd almost joined Dean in the passenger seat, and his cock pressed eagerly against his fly, already making a damp spot. He settled back into his seat and adjusted his jeans. He wasn't sure how long they'd been making out, but it was long enough to start fogging the windows. He grinned. Absolutely perfect end to a promising first real date.
"Turn off the car already, so we can go upstairs." Dean's faint breathlessness was so fucking gratifying, maybe even more so than the words themselves.
"Not tonight, Mr. Murphy."
Dean blinked at him, confused. "What?"
"We'll get there, just not yet. I'm not that kind of guy." Tony made sure his tone was teasing. It wasn't entirely a lie. He'd been that kind of guy before, but not when he was thinking about settling down. He had no fears about their compatibility, but he had a feeling Dean would find it far too easy to dismiss him without another thought if they hit the sack too soon.
Letting Dean go tonight was going to be a nightmare of blue-ballish proportions, but it was the right thing to do.
"You're leaving?" Dean didn't sound upset, but like he had truly expected Tony to come up. "But dinner and kissing..."
Tony's nostrils flared. Who the hell had Dean been seeing where dinner automatically meant sex? No matter how common it was, Tony didn't want any sort of quid pro quo. Not from Dean.
"I am. But I'll call you." Tony's voice rang with his sincerity, because he meant it. He touched Dean's slightly swollen lips with his finger. Work of art, they were, and he would dream about them wrapped around his dick.
Dean pressed his lips together and sat for a moment before getting out of the car. Thank God he didn't seem upset, merely puzzled.
Before he shut the door, he stuck his head back in. "Are you sure you don't want to come up?"
"Mr. Murphy, a little bit of mystery makes Christmas that much better."
That brought a rueful smile to Dean's face, and he shook his head. "Okay, then. I guess I'll see you when I see you?"
The slight lilt at the end made his statement into a question. But Tony wasn't falling for it. "Nope. Not giving you any hints about the next date."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm just going to go jerk off, you big tease."
Oh, now that wasn't fucking fair. But that didn't stop Tony from watching Dean's ass as he walked away, a little more sass in his step than usual, no doubt intended to make Tony regret ending the night so soon. He was going to have dreams about that ass.
* * *
SUNDAY EVENING, Tony flopped down on his mom’s couch, flicked on the television, and pretty much wilted right there on the spot. After a solid six-hour shift doing holiday coverage for one of the other home healthcare nurses, he’d had to meet his mom at Holy Trinity for another six solid hours of volunteer work, most of which involved lifting and rearranging boxes.
His mom could be a harsh taskmaster, but Tony didn’t have the heart to object because his mom was doing all this work for the Christmas charity drives and even
ts at her church. Tony didn’t have much use for religion himself, but since his mom wasn’t all fire and brimstone, he could handle it. The new priest and most of the congregation he’d come across while helping his mom out had been mostly uncaring about either his tattoos or his orientation, which made a huge change from the old days when his father and the old priest had been buddies. True, the situation now may be more of a “don’t ask, don’t tell” thing, but neither had anyone told him he was going to hell or called him a pedophile, which was a miraculous improvement.
Maybe that was just another way the holiday spirits were looking out for him.
That thought brought Dean to the forefront of his mind for about the thousandth time today. Their date had gone well, and kissing Dean had been better than he’d imagined. He’d picked up his phone a number of times to call, just to make sure Dean had enjoyed himself the previous evening. Every time he had, his mom had found him and given him another job. But now he was alone in the house, his mom having met Nicki and the girls for dinner and shopping. Tony had begged off because he would probably keel over at work tomorrow.
And there was also the little matter of having some alone time to call Dean. With most other guys, talking every day since they’d met would be a little overwhelming, but despite Dean’s natural reticence, he got the feeling Dean enjoyed the attention. Since Tony was more than happy to give him that attention, it was a win-win for them both.
Tony slid his fingers over his phone, initiating the call.
“Hello?” Dean sounded a little breathless.
“Mr. Murphy. I didn’t catch you still at work, did I?”
“Oh. No. Just got out of the shower.”
