Unbroken Hearts

by K-lee Klein

  Brett popped his bottom lip out in a pout, swinging his head to the left so Whiz couldn’t give him another face-wash. “I know that,” he grumbled. “He didn’t touch the damn tree last year, so what the hell is up with this one? Got some critters… or varmints living in it?”

  He tried to hold back his chuckle when JT whispered, “See, I told you you used that word.” But he failed, winding his free hand behind JT’s neck and tangling his fingers in the soft curls.

  “I’m afraid to look at what all he done. You want that job, kid? Hopefully he gave all those presents a pass in his reign of terror.”

  With a tender kiss to the side of Brett’s neck, JT eased away, coming to stand in front of him and his squirming cargo. He saluted with a determined look of authority, the fact he was still only in his briefs making the situation just that much more ridiculous.

  “At ease, soldier, but save all that sexy obedience for later. Santa might need to give a few orders of his own.” Brett leaned in to steal a kiss to JT’s plump bottom lip. “I’m gonna give this teenage mutant a time-out.”

  “You know that doesn’t work, right?”

  “Hush, city boy. Don’t let Mama hear you dissing her instructions.”

  His heart was lighter when he walked away, twisting back around once to look over his shoulder at JT’s tight ass in his very tight undies. He hummed a little with renewed spirit as he softly pinched Whiz’s jaw together.

  “Why’d you go and do that, Whizzy? I hate to punish you on Christmas. You’ve disappointed your daddies.”

  “I heard that!” JT called with a rolling chuckle. “Daddies.”

  “You never mind,” Brett said. He toed open the door to Whiz’s bigass crate, then crouched down to send the struggling pup inside. It was no easy task, since the dog had become all long, uncoordinated limbs and barely any body with his recent growth spurt. “It won’t be long, I promise. You gotta learn the rules, little man.”

  “Pretty sure your mom got us a new tablecloth with flowers on it again.”

  “Pretty sure?” Brett hollered back. He snuck a peek to make sure JT wasn’t heading his way before shoving his hand in the bag of dried lamb lungs and quickly stuffing one in Whiz’s kennel. “Shhh,” he said when Whiz went at the treat full gusto.

  “I’m positive she did since the wrapping paper is destroyed.”

  Brett shook his head in disappointment at Whiz, who ignored him for his chewy snack.

  “Oh, and if you keep giving him treats when he’s being punished, we’re never going to get him to listen.”

  “Dang it,” Brett growled. He eyed Whiz one last time before standing and hitching up his jeans. He’d forgotten his belt in his haste to not wake up JT, and, like he always said, he couldn’t understand how those young kids wore their pants barely hanging off their asses. Drove him fucking nuts.

  “I don’t mind them when they’re hanging low. All you have to do is take them off to solve the problem,” JT said when Brett turned the corner.

  “What are you now? Fortune-teller? Or one of those shady psychics? Guess I prefer that to the bad accent.”

  “Screw you, cowboy,” JT said. Of course, he nabbed Brett around the middle while he did it. “We could have a no-pants Christmas.”

  Brett snorted. He turned so they were face-to-face, everything pressed to everything else, and, Mother of God, JT’s briefs were so damn thin. “Bet Mama and Ray would love that.”

  “I thought we had a standard agreement to not talk about your mother or Ray when we were horny?” JT kissed him then, slow, deep, his hands sliding into the back of Brett’s pants. So Brett went with it. He slapped JT on the ass, then wiggled his own hand down JT’s drawers to feel the firm globes of his backside.

  “I swear you’re going through some kind of second puberty, kid. Want me to put the Santa hat back on? You could be my sexy elf.”

  “I think you’re more elf-sized.”

  Brett squeezed JT’s ass hard. “You did not just go there.”

  “Whip it out, Santa. I wanna sit in your lap and tell you what a good boy I’ve been.”

  It was the last straw. Brett pushed away from JT, leaning forward, hands on his knees as silent laughter painfully shook his body. “I just….” He snorted so hard it hurt. “You’re unbelievable, kid. I just… I just can’t do this shit.”

  JT was losing it too. He fluttered his lashes at Brett, his face lit up like the brightest star in the sky. “Yeah, you suck at role-playing, and it was your idea in the first place.”

  Brett swatted at his ass. “I know, but I certainly did not tell you to decimate Saint Nick and his elves.”

  A howl vibrated from the kitchen. They turned to each other again, shaking their heads. Brett was glad for the interruption because role-playing was just… well, not his thing. JT winked at him while Brett swiped at the happy tears on his cheeks and the ones still leaking from his eyes.

  “Guess he finished his treat,” JT said with a smirk. “I’m gonna get some pants on since Santa doesn’t seem up to the challenge right now.”

  “Brat,” Brett said. He took another opportunity to slap JT’s butt. He knew the kid damn well liked it too. “Come back down then, yeah? I’m gonna clean up a bit. Then we can have some breakfast, and I have something special to give you, Darlin’.”

  “Didn’t we say no gifts?” JT called out behind him. “Putting the money toward a trip or something, right?”

  “No and maybe,” Brett hollered to the stomp of heavy footsteps on the stairs. He waited for JT to reach the top, then began scooping up garland and wrapping paper bits and pieces. “Oh. Looks like Ray got me that old Western DVD I wanted and his gift for you is half-opened too. And hey! We said one small gift, but don’t be worried if you didn’t get me anything. I’ve got all I need anyhow.”

  And all he really needed ended up back at his side before Brett even had everything cleaned up. JT sidled up to him in fresh jeans and the ugliest Christmas sweater Brett had ever seen. It was cartoony but barely distinguishable as a reindeer except for the big red pompom sewed on for Rudolph’s nose.

  “You’re not actually going to wear that, are you?”

  “Of course. It was my first gift from your mom. She’ll be expecting it.”

  Brett flicked at the bobbly nose. “No, she won’t…. Will she?”

  JT nodded with determination. “She’s going to ask where yours is too.”

  “I am not walking around my own house in a god-awful green sweater with a threatening-looking snowman on it.”

  “He’s not threatening. I think he’s just missing a stitch to turn his mouth into a smile. You know you have to do it. And it’ll make opening gifts more fun.”

  “You’re so full of crap your eyes are darker today. Not happening, kid.”

  “Okay,” JT said, shaking his head as he moved to grab the tree. He huffed in frustration as he tried and failed to stand it up again. “If you want to disappoint your mama, that’s your decision.”

  Brett squinted and focused his best scowl at JT. “You’ve turned into a real brat, Campbell.”

  “That’s why you love me, Mr. Taylor. I keep your life interesting. How about just this morning? We’ll take a picture so she knows we did as we were told?”

  “Starting to think you’re on Mama’s payroll. I’ll wear the damn sweater, but I expect a big cup of coffee waiting for me once I get that itchy thing on. Oh, and one of those pastry things Mama brought yesterday.”

  “Those are for this afternoon.”

  “Do you want me looking as ridiculous as you or not?”

  Chapter 13

  AND THAT’S how Brett came to be sitting on the floor in the second ugliest Christmas sweater in the world, with a slightly mangled Santa hat perched on his head again. The tree had been righted, definitely worse for wear with a branch or two missing here and there, but the lights still twinkled all pretty-like, and for Brett that was the most important part.

  THAT, AND the beautiful creature bes
ide him—JT, not Whizzy.

  JT’s long legs were stretched and spread straight out with Brett’s backside nestled between his ankles. Brett’s bare feet were hitched underneath JT’s legs, his toes digging into the flesh of JT’s thighs. It was comfortable enough to eat and drink, and close enough that Brett could feel JT’s body heat like it was his own. And maybe he was too damn old to be sitting on the floor, but dammit, it was Christmas and he could think about the consequences on his forty-year-old frame later.

  Whiz had also joined the party, having whined and howled enough they’d taken pity on him, or at least Brett had done so. It was Christmas, after all, even for naughty pups. He seemed happier, though, content to snack on another one of his treats.

  “So,” JT said between bites of buttery pastry. “Do you want to go first?”

  “Naw. I deserve first spot for all your nagging about the sweater—”

  “My what?”

  Brett just grinned at him. “Hope you didn’t get me something edible or you’re going to have to wrap a bow around Whiz’s belly.”

  JT laughed and it was bright and strong and gorgeous, just like him. “I know better than that. You go ahead and reach under the couch.”

  “This couch?” Brett asked with an accompanying tip of his head.

  When JT chewed his bottom lip and nodded, Brett leaned back far enough to grab whatever was under there. He could tell it was about two inches thick before he pulled it out, not real heavy but awkwardly shaped to maneuver with one hand. As he finally got a good hold on it, Brett noticed it was wrapped up nicely, in shiny red Christmas paper with a matching bow.

  “Looks like Santa had some gift-wrapping lessons,” he teased.

  JT obviously got the joke since he blushed a little and averted his gaze. Brett had prior knowledge of JT’s gift-wrapping skills, and either he had greatly improved or….

  “It was hard to wrap,” JT admitted. “So maybe Mrs. Clause or Santa’s mama or whatever—I think I’m confused now.” He chuckled, taking a big slurp of his coffee instead of continuing.

  “Mama?”

  “Yeah, okay. Millie’s a whiz at wrapping.” He nudged Brett’s foot. “Get it? A Whiz?”

  “I do but wish I didn’t.” Brett grinned at him, sliding his hands over the rounded rectangular package. It had to be three and a half feet in length by just over a foot in width, and the shape gave no clue as to what it was. “Feels like something unfinished. You looking to have me build something for you, Darlin’?”

  “Whatever you say, cowboy.”

  Brett could see the anticipation burning in JT’s eyes. His hands were wrapped around the mug like it was a life or death situation. Brett hoped the cup was strong enough to withstand JT’s intensity, but he was intrigued with the reason his calm man was suddenly so uptight.

  “Just want me to open—”

  “Yes! Geez.”

  He took a leisurely sip of his coffee, smacking his lips as he lowered the cup to the floor again. “Damn, that’s good.”

  “Brett, I swear I will beat you to within an inch of your life.”

  Brett smirked and winked but decided to put JT out of his misery just the same. He peeled away the tape like it was made of gold, unfolding and flattening every crease of the paper while JT huffed and squirmed. The first thing that grabbed his attention was the color—bright blue and shiny—then the letters TOOBS.

  “You got me a surfboard, kid?” He didn’t want to add what the fuck to his question, though it was going through his head like a damn stampede.

  “It’s a bodyboard. Smaller and easier than a surfboard,” JT explained. His face suddenly screamed discomfort, so Brett reached for his hand. “It’s good for beginners and old-timers. I even had it personalized.”

  Brett flipped it over, and there was his name scrawled in midnight blue. He chuckled as he met JT’s gaze. “Old-timers? Really? Well, it’s, um… it’s nice. Not much call for it out here though, babe.”

  “You really seemed to like the one I put in the family room, so I thought I’d get you one of your own.” He shrugged, then dipped his gaze to the floor. “Also thought you could use it in California… sometime.”

  “California?” Brett cocked his head, but JT’s gaze had snuck away again. Revelation struck him all at once. “You sending me to California?”

  He could see the internal struggle shadowing JT’s face, the way his usually pliable lips drew into a straight line and his brow furrowed. Brett carefully put the board aside, then shifted closer to him. He tucked a hand around his neck, rubbing the tight muscles of JT’s shoulders. They sat that way, quiet for a moment, until something finally told him it was okay to wade into JT’s typhoon of emotions.

  “Hey,” he said softly, stroking blond curls from JT’s face. “I’m just kidding. You know if you ever want me to visit home with you, I’ll be there in two shakes of a damn lamb’s tail.”

  JT leaned into Brett’s touch. “I know.”

  “Feeling a little homesick, sweetheart?” Brett tugged him so they were nose-to-nose.

  With a sigh, JT melted against him. “I miss my grandma, you know? Before I talked to her at Halloween, I didn’t let myself think about any of it.”

  “Because there was nothing good to think about?”

  “Except her and that was really selfish.”

  “She don’t feel that way, JT. You’ve been talking to her a lot lately. She doesn’t seem like one to hold a grudge, right?”

  A snicker accompanied JT’s reply. “No. That would be my mother.” He hesitated, gnawing on his bottom lip while Brett waited him out. “But I’ve always kind of wanted—want—to take you to where home used to be, you know?”

  “I’d like that a lot, but only when you’re ready.”

  “I really want to be ready.”

  Brett shifted him closer, settling JT’s head against his collarbone just below his chin. He brushed a kiss against his crown, flattened his hand over the side of JT’s head to keep him close, then rested his chin against it. “You will be, and talking to your granny so much has to make you feel a little better, right?”

  “It does, and everything you’ve done for her is so great, Brett.”

  “I ain’t done nothing but help her find somewhere to make her happy. She’s family. Nothing I wouldn’t do for family, kid.”

  JT nodded against him, silky curls tickling Brett’s nose. “It’s nice to finally know what that feels like.”

  Brett held him tighter. “I think you caught some of that holiday sap you keep accusing me of.” He didn’t say it out loud, but a sappy JT was a pretty thing.

  “Hell no,” JT mumbled with no heat behind the words. “I’ll never be that sappy.”

  “I’m perfectly fine keeping it all to myself, then,” Brett whispered against JT’s head, sliding his hands over JT’s back slowly, soothingly. “You wanna know what I think?”

  “Of course.” JT lifted his head, staying close but gazing into Brett’s eyes.

  “I think you’ll still take me to that world you came from, but like you said, you’ll do it on your own time. If you feel bad enough, guilty enough, about not being there, then we can pack up tomorrow and head west. But you do it on your own terms. And let me ask you this—straight out, no fuss, no guilt or remorse. Do you want to go to California right now?”

  “No.”

  Brett manhandled JT until he was almost in his lap. He cradled JT’s face between his hands and leaned in close. “Then we go when you want to. I’d follow you anywhere. You know that, right?”

  They sat there for a few minutes until JT’s mouth became looser and more pliant against Brett’s, his hands caressing instead of clinging. Brett eased back first, looking deep into those pretty copper eyes.

  “I don’t think we ever outgrow our family, and it’s okay to still love your folks without letting their lives become yours.”

  “Love my—”

  “Hush for a minute. No matter what they did or said, they’ll always
be the people who brought you into the world, and the way I see it, you’ll always have some kind of feelings towards them That don’t mean you have to visit or call or whatever, but don’t let how you feel about them make you not want to do whatever it is you want.”

  JT cocked his head, popping out his bottom lip. “And what exactly was it I wanted? You lost me.”

  Brett chuckled and tipped back his head. “I do tend to go off on tangents. Sorry about that. I only meant, as much as they’ve upset you and pissed you off, they’ll always be your parents, but the good part is that you’re an adult now, so you get to choose your battles with them, right? If you wanna go to damn California and not see your folks, then we go to California and not see them. I got no problem with that. Your granny though? I can’t wait to meet her.”

  JT was contemplative, his face morphing from concerned to calm before a tiny smile curled one corner of his mouth. “We can talk about it later. I didn’t mean to ruin our day with my crap.”

  “It ain’t crap, sweetheart. It’s feelings and family. And it hasn’t ruined everything. Can I say one more thing though?”

  “Have I ever been able to stop you from doing that?”

  With a snort, Brett gave JT a gentle shove. “All I was gonna say is how we seem to be very—what’s the right word? Sympatico? We’re in sync.”

  “How so?”

  “Maybe opening your present will make you understand.”

  “Then hand it over, cowboy.”

  Brett kissed him quick before jumping to his feet. He crossed to the fireplace and reached behind the photo of them, with its wooden picture frame, that sat on the mantle. He chuckled when JT narrowed his eyes and scowled.

  “Sneaky,” he said, already stretching out his arm, long fingers making little grabby gestures.

  Brett hadn’t disguised the shape very well, but he’d wrapped it himself, which was something he’d have to give JT a hard time about later. When he handed the small package to JT, he felt a rush of nervousness. He’d thought the timing would be perfect, but now… he wasn’t so sure. Determined to shrug off his insecurity, he pasted a smile over the twitch of anticipation in the corner of his mouth as he sat down again.