by KC Burn
"You were thinking a bunch of mannequins wearing reindeer sweaters or something?"
Dean laughed ruefully. "Something like that, although reindeer sweaters is a little more specific than I'd gotten. But these are so... detailed. Incredible."
And they stretched the entire width of the storefront. Even considering it was a flagship store, it was still a lot of real estate for downtown.
They strolled leisurely, pausing frequently for Dean to peer closer at the intricacies of the Christmas displays.
"Are they the same every year?"
Tony shrugged. "I don't think so. They might repurpose some stuff, but I don't believe they're the same. I haven't been home for Christmas in a few years, but I don't recall there being repeats when I've been here before."
But he could well be mistaken. It was a once a year event for his family. There wouldn't be any real reason for him to retain specifics of the displays.
"Hmm. We'll have to check it out next year, too."
The tone and words had been casual, off the cuff, but they gave Tony a world of hope. Because he, too, saw them doing this next year, and many more. His prickly Mr. Murphy was coming around.
When they reached the end, Dean had wrapped his arms around himself, and Tony noticed the temperature had dropped significantly as time ticked away.
"C'mon. Let's head inside, get you warmed up."
Tony tugged Dean along, leading him into The Bay.
"Wait. Isn't the Eaton Centre across the street?"
God. It was almost like Dean was a tourist in his own city. Sure, Tony hadn't explored every square metre, but there was so much Dean hadn't experienced. He pointed upward.
"There's a walkway up there."
"What's the difference?"
"Trust me."
He'd loved the walkway as a kid, and as an adult he could see the value of not slogging through the slush that gathered on the street. Besides, entering on the next floor gave a much better view of the interior of the Eaton Centre. The doors on Queen always seemed too congested, and then you had to fight your way up the escalator to be able to see anything at all.
The walkway was busier than he'd hoped, but Dean had taken a moment to stop in the middle and check out the view from either side, just like a kid. While it wasn't quite as warm as being truly indoors, it warmed up enough that they both pulled off their hats, unwrapped their scarves, and undid their coats.
He wasn't disappointed by Dean's sharply indrawn breath as soon as they made it into the mall. For the first time, Dean led the way, weaving through a group of shoppers to the railing by the escalators. The interior expanse was as lushly decorated for the holidays as Tony had remembered, and from this vantage point, they could see almost all of it.
For several minutes, they stood and watched the swirl of people around them and on the floors below. The crowd flowed along the pathways, almost like a living entity. Then they joined the throng and wandered, exploring up and down, pausing at various vantage points, and even taking the glass-walled elevator up to the top floor for a better view.
Tony pointedly did not suggest visiting Santa. Would be kinda weird with all the kids, but maybe next year they could check out some of the more entertaining holiday offerings at a strip club. Sitting on the lap of some of those Santas would be far more entertaining than gatecrashing a strictly kid event. Introducing his unworldly Mr. Murphy to that spectacle would be far too intense for this year.
Not to mention, he didn't want to risk some young twink of a stripper elf turning Dean's head, not until he'd had the chance to get Dean’s attentions firmly on him.
As they passed the large, ornate clock looming in the open middle area of the mall, Tony realized it was getting on toward nine. Maybe it was kind of pathetic to end a date that early, but they'd had a good bit of exercise, and Tony had to be up early in the morning. Dean appeared to be flagging some too, and Tony didn't want to completely exhaust him. The guy had to go into work every day until Christmas.
"Want to grab a peppermint mocha to fortify us for the walk to the car? Or we could take the subway. One or two stops would save us a bit of walking."
"Yes to the coffee, no to the subway. I'm a little tired but I can handle walking a few blocks. It's getting kind of warm in here, anyway, with all these extra layers."
"You'll be glad when we get back out there. Wind chill is supposed to be pretty fierce tonight."
Dean squinted at him. "I'm not as delicate as you seem to think."
Landmines. Tony still had to tread carefully, because Dean had only started to trust him. "Believe me, I don't think you're delicate."
Brittle, perhaps, without anyone in his life he could rely on. But strong, and oh so admirable for keeping himself together and sane.
"Uh-huh." There was a wealth of disbelief weighing down those two syllables.
"I'm not denigrating your manhood or anything. I promise." Tony leaned in close and whispered. "I have plans for that manhood, believe me. I'm full of admiration for it."
There. That blush again, under a faint sheen of sweat. Tony leaned back and smiled. "Don't forget, I'm a nurse. It's kind of my purpose in life to take care of people. And I'll do it for people I care about, even when they don't think they need it."
Care. He did care for Dean so much already. And it wouldn't be long before it was more than that. Impetuous, even with his heart, but the Christmas spirits weren't going to steer him wrong. He had faith enough for them both.
Right before his eyes, everything about Dean softened, and the look Tony got confirmed they were both careening down the same path together, at the same breakneck speed.
Dean cleared his throat and squeezed Tony's hand briefly before letting go. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm just..."
"Used to taking care of yourself?"
Dean nodded. "Yes. I've never had someone like you in my life."
"Well, just get used to it. You're not alone anymore, okay?" That was as close a declaration as he was willing to give right then. If he said aloud everything in his heart and his mind, he'd probably send Dean leaping away like a frightened gazelle. But so far, he liked everything about Dean and couldn't see that changing. Maybe if he found out he was a serial killer or something, but beyond that, Tony foresaw himself remaining on Dean's hook for as long as Dean wanted him there.
"Does that mean you're coming back to my place tonight?"
Shit. He wanted to, he really did, but he was so close to coaxing out the closeted Christmas lover. He winked at Dean, trying to keep things light. "Not tonight. Don't want mind-blowing sex to influence your feelings about the season."
Dean's look was nothing but skeptical. "You think your hot bod and bedroom skills are enough to weigh the balance in favour of Christmas?"
Tony loved that Dean felt comfortable enough to tease him back. "Gonna blow your mind, Mr. Murphy. Just not tonight."
That surprised a chuckle from Dean. "Fair enough. I'll hold you to that. I should probably head into work early tomorrow anyway, see what the wreckage is from today's disaster."
"I'd recommend a hot bath to ease your muscles. If you think of me while you're naked and soaking, I'd be okay with that."
Another blush. Awesome. It was a little too public for Tony to kiss Dean the way he wanted, so he brushed a finger over Dean's lips as a promise. "You stay here and just absorb the atmosphere. I'll go grab our coffees, and then we can get going."
CHAPTER FIVE
DEAN GOT out of the shower and pulled on some clean track pants and a tee. Eight more workdays to endure until Christmas. On Christmas Eve, the store closed early and was closed Christmas Day, which would be his only reprieve until after New Year's. But at least during the Boxing Day sales on the twenty-sixth, he'd be able to turn off the infernal Christmas songs.
Maybe he'd have to ask Tony for a Christmas playlist for next year. Most of the stuff Tony had played in the car had been pretty good. Surely there was some way to get music in the store that didn't make him want
to stab Santa with a candy cane shiv. He hadn't known there was any holiday music that he might like. Even additional variety might help, since he was the one who worked the most hours out of everyone during the holiday season.
January, though, he'd be able to get back to a regular schedule with two days off a week.
He wiggled his toes. His muscles were still a little tight after skating just a few days ago, but the hot bath Tony had recommended had helped. Surprising both himself and Tony, he'd shared a number of explicit details related to that bath during their nightly phone calls. They hadn't quite progressed to phone sex—Dean wanted to have proper naked sex with Tony before experimenting like that—but the sensual tone to their flirting was more intense than anything Dean had ever done. Most of his sexual experiences had included a simple, clinical exchange of information and expectations. There hadn't been any teasing or laughing or anticipation that made him horny at all sorts of inappropriate times.
He glanced at the clock, slightly disappointed Tony hadn't showed up at his door unexpectedly as he'd done a week ago Wednesday. A single instance could hardly be called a habit, and Tony certainly hadn't mentioned anything about coming over when they'd spoken last night, but Dean couldn't deny he'd showered quickly after his workday in anticipation of just such a visit. But it was already thirty minutes later than the time Tony had come over last week.
The disappointment erased any desire for dinner, although he didn't much want to acknowledge that fact. Sulking, or maybe just pouting, he flung himself down on his couch and prepared for one of his customary horror movie binges. For some reason, though, it didn't have the same appeal as it had in years past. He had a momentary desire to find something sweet and light—did they make Christmas rom coms? But no sooner had the thought surfaced than he'd stamped it down. He had a sneaking suspicion that such a movie might make him think too much about Tony and the fact that his apartment and his life seemed pretty fucking lonely.
Melancholy wasn't on tap for tonight. He wouldn't let it. Tony had said Dean could trust that he'd be there, and somewhere deep in his soul was a tarnished and dusty bit of trust. Maybe it was time to dig it up. In between Nightmare on Elm Street movies, that was. Freddy was the perfect cure for whatever malaise this was.
A fist pounded on his door, and Dean leapt up, mood lightening in a flash. It could be a mistake—Tony wasn't the only person who'd snuck into the building without buzzing someone first, and Dean had had his share of people wanting to save his soul show up at his door. But some pesky hope, which should have been buried way down deep, agitated the butterflies in his stomach.
Reaching the door, he hesitated. Looking through the peephole would tell him for sure who was out there, but until he knew, he could hope it was Tony. Sort of a pathetic lovelorn variation on Schrödinger's cat... Dean could call it Schrödinger's conundrum. The cat could be dead or alive, but as long as he didn't open the box, he could hope and believe the cat was hale and hearty.
If he debated too long with himself, the cat was going to get bored and leave—the lesser-known third variable of the famous thought experiment.
Fuck.
He made himself look through the peephole. Even with the weird fish-eye distortion, there was no mistaking Tony's face. Hands fumbling in his haste, it took endless seconds to finally open his door.
"Hi there." Tony reached out and ran his fingers through Dean's still-damp hair. "I see I missed the bathing portion of this evening's entertainment."
Tony's other hand was occupied carrying a bag, but that simple touch on Dean's hair made days of banked and thwarted desire flare up, stronger than ever.
"Don't worry. You haven't missed any of the good stuff yet," Dean murmured before he plastered himself to Tony's body, fitting his lips to Tony's chilly ones like placing the final piece of a puzzle.
Without missing a beat, Tony opened his mouth, tongue immediately seeking Dean's. Using his whole body, he walked Dean backward, dropped the bag just inside the threshold, and slammed the door behind him.
Cock throbbing, Dean was frantic to get Tony naked, and his winter wear made it impossible to feel those strong muscles and smooth skin. He tugged at Tony's clothes, which prompted Tony to pull back slightly. Those intense brown eyes were almost black, and Dean knew without words that Tony was done with waiting.
Together, they helped take each other’s clothes off, interspersing each piece with kisses. It was messy and chaotic. Dean's lips sometimes rubbed across Tony's five o'clock shadow. Tony's tongue alternated between swiping up Dean's neck and swirling around his earlobe.
Dean hadn't fully realized the pleasure to be had in just making out with someone until he'd met Tony, but the sloppy, frantic kisses loaded with a single-minded intent to get naked destroyed any other thoughts or worries.
None too soon, they were stripped down to briefs, erections straining the fabric. Tony wasn't an underwear model, he wasn't perfect, but he was still so fucking gorgeous, and Dean was so hard he might scream if Tony put the brakes on again.
"Bedroom?" Tony asked breathlessly.
Oh thank fuck. Dean didn't bother saying anything, just grabbed Tony's hand.
In the bedroom, Tony reached for him, but Dean had a plan. A dream.
“On the bed. Please.” His voice didn’t even sound like his own, it was so raspy with desire.
With a shy little smile, completely at odds with the hard-on barely contained by the cotton fabric, Tony slipped off his briefs and arranged himself on Dean’s bed.
So fucking gorgeous. This was the first time Dean had seen Tony’s tattoos—front side, at least—in their full-colour glory. The full sleeve and chest pieces were indeed aquatic scenes, but stylized with strong overtones of Pacific Northwest tribal images. Dean had assumed that the water-theme would mean Tony would be more blue than anything else, but the artists had combined a multitude of colours into a stunning whole. Tony’s cock had its own serpentine beauty, and Dean wasn’t sure where he wanted to start.
Dean made a sound low in his throat and yanked off his own briefs before climbing onto the bed. Even though he’d touched Tony’s skin before, it was different now, all bared and glowing in the yellowish lamplight. He straddled Tony, settling his ass against Tony’s thighs, not allowing their cocks to touch. Tattoos first.
Tentatively, he stretched out his hands and placed them against Tony’s belly. Tony hissed and arched upward, and that small action ignited the fire that had been momentarily banked. Touch was no longer enough, and Dean leaned over, mouth moving feverishly over Tony’s skin, tracing the edge of a wave and the sly curve of a hidden octopus. His cock bumped and nudged Tony’s thigh, leaving wet kisses in the soft hair.
Tony’s hands roamed over his back, scorching hot and frantic. Dean ran his tongue over Tony’s nipple, making Tony groan and thread fingers through his hair, clutching him close. Then Dean sucked it roughly into his mouth, pinching the other. Tony squirmed and panted underneath him, and Dean shifted, letting their naked cocks glide against each other, heated lengths fitting perfectly.
“Oh fuck,” Tony whispered. Dean might have echoed the sentiment, but his mouth and tongue were otherwise occupied.
Like they’d done a week ago, their hips worked in rhythm, generating a friction between their cocks that would have Dean blowing all too soon. Frotting was all well and good, but coming that way wasn’t on Dean’s agenda tonight. Not when Tony had finally acquiesced to getting naked in his bed.
He didn’t want to give up the salty male taste of Tony’s skin, but he was too fucking close. Dean pulled back, sliding his hips away from Tony’s.
“More,” Tony said breathlessly.
“Nuh-uh. Not coming like this.”
Tony blinked at him. “Oh yeah? How did you want to come?”
Normally, Dean wasn’t demanding or pushy during sex, but it seemed to have taken ages to get Tony here, and he was going to get what he wanted. “I want to spray your belly with cum while you’re fucking me.”
>
Clutching the bed sheets, Tony let out a strangled gasp and shivered hard. “Oh, fuck, Dean, you’re killing me.”
He paused a few moments to let Tony get himself under control, not that either of them had a whole lot of control right now. Leaning over, he opened the drawer in his nightstand to pull out lube and a condom. Tony’s hands roved over his ass, squeezing hard, and this time it was Dean shivering.
After shifting his position, Dean handed Tony the lube and leaned over. They probably couldn’t stand much more foreplay, but Dean needed that fat cock in his mouth.
Without any explanation needed, Tony opened the lube and slicked up his fingers while Dean licked up the underside of his dick to the tip already drenched in precum. Dean wrapped his lips around the smooth dome, letting his tongue dance along the ridge of the glans.
“Shit, Dean, I’m not going to be able to take much of this.”
Dean lifted his head slightly, his own dick flexing at the sight of Tony’s lust-drunk expression. “Then prep me for fuck’s sake, because I don’t want to wait much longer.”
Tony nodded, face flushed and eyes dark. “How much?”
“Not much. Like the burn.” Dean was done talking, and he went back to his gentle exploration of the mushroomed head of Tony’s cock.
When Tony’s slick finger slid deep inside, Dean let Tony’s cock drop from his mouth, enjoying the sensation for a moment before opening wide and sucking Tony’s dick deep. At the same moment, Tony brushed his prostate, and they groaned in unison.
Dean sucked and licked, cleaning away the precum as fast as it slid out of Tony’s slit and even delved inside with a stiff tongue, trying his best to concentrate, but Tony made it difficult as he quickly ramped up from one finger to three.
“God. Ready?” Tony sounded as desperate as Dean felt.
Dean shifted position again, mourning the emptiness in his ass as Tony pulled his hand away. In mere seconds, he had Tony gloved up and poised at his cleft.
Eyelids fluttering closed, Dean dropped, letting Tony’s dick slide deep in one smooth movement. He held there for a moment, savouring the sensation of fullness and waiting out the worst of the burn.
