After cleaning Raf up, showering together—which had resulted in a blow job for him because apparently, Raf had still felt guilty and had wanted to please his Daddy— Brendan had diapered him and put him in his new Christmas pajamas, which matched his own. Cornell and Rhys had worn matching pajamas as well the night before, so hell if he cared. Raf bounced with impatience, but the earlier discipline had made him wise enough not to rush Brendan.
It was almost eight thirty when they finally came out of their room, and as it turned out, that was almost simultaneously with Rhys and Cornell. Their heated cheeks indicated they’d indulged in some morning fun themselves, and Brendan winked at Rhys. “Good morning. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Rhys said, and they followed a happy, bouncing Raf into the living room.
It was amazing how Raf, who’d sucked him off mere minutes ago, had dropped into little mode again, radiating the innocence and joy of a little boy. Brendan hoped that Rhys wasn’t planning on teasing Raf any further, because the boy had reached his limit, but luckily, Rhys seemed to sense that as well. “Go get your first present, buddy,” he told Raf.
They had to be as desperate for coffee as he was, but they all watched with smiles as Raf picked out a present. Like a kid, he shook it to hear if it made a sound, then ripped off the paper. “Oh, Daddy, look! It’s a gingerbread house kit. I can build a gingerbread house and decorate it with this candy. Can we do that later today?”
Before Brendan could say anything, Rhys spoke up. “I’d love to do that with you later if you want.”
Raf looked at him with wonder in his eyes. “You bought this for me?”
Rhys nodded.
Raf hurried over and hugged him tight. “Thank you, Rhys. I want to do this together. It will be fun!”
Rhys ruffled his hair. “Deal. Now, can you wait five minutes while we make coffee? I can get you some apple juice if your Daddy says that’s okay.”
Brendan nodded. He’d have offered him anything right now for coffee, so juice was the least he could allow. Cornell was mercifully quick in making coffee, and then they got back to opening presents. By unspoken agreement, they’d all bought more for Raf, and Brendan’s heart was full of love for his boy, but even more for the two other men who accepted him so fully.
Raf himself had found an ugly Christmas sweater kit for Rhys and Cornell, who had a good laugh over that, and Brendan had gotten them a year subscription to a movie channel, knowing how much they loved to watch movies. In return, he got a massive Lego set to build with Raf, who salivated over the police station they’d construct together. How well they knew him that they’d given him something he could share with his boy. Granted, he also got a nice bottle of whiskey, but most of his presents were aimed at Raf.
When everything was unwrapped, Raf sat on the floor with red cheeks, in silent shock at all the gifts he’d received. Brendan had surprised him with a pair of ice skates, figuring they could try that together, as well as a deluxe set of all the Harry Potter books, more toys, and a new playing rug. His parents had spoiled Raf as well with an iPad—something Raf had admitted to wanting when they were over for dinner at their place a few weeks back. He looked at it as if he couldn’t believe it. And Cornell and Rhys had gotten him toys, a weighted blanket, and more books.
“You’ve all spoiled me,” Raf whispered. “I’ve never gotten so many Christmas presents.”
God, Brendan’s heart ached. He’d missed out on a lot as a kid, and he’d spoil him for the rest of their lives to make up for that. “You deserve them, baby boy, for being the sweetest boy we know.”
Raf looked around the room as if he wanted confirmation, and when Rhys and Cornell both nodded, he started crying. Brendan immediately sat down on the floor next to him and pulled his boy on his lap. “What’s wrong, baby boy? Are you overwhelmed?”
Raf dropped his head on Brendan’s shoulder, and he sat there for a while, silently crying big tears. Brendan held him close, rubbing his back. Events like this weren’t unusual with Raf, though they had gotten less. His therapy had unearthed plenty of bad memories and trauma, and every now and then, something big would come up.
Raf stopped crying, giving a last hiccup and a deep exhale. “You know how people can say things to you and you know it’s true, but you don’t really feel it? Like, how awesome the Harry Potter books are, and you know it, but then you reread them, and all of a sudden, you feel it on a much deeper level?”
It was a classic Raf analogy, and Brendan nodded in encouragement. “What did you feel just now, baby boy?”
“Acceptance. Love. I know you all love me and accept me, and I’ve felt it before but never like this. I’m sitting here in my little boy’s pajamas, wearing a diaper, with my Daddy next to me, and you’re all okay with it. Like, you bought me gifts for a little boy, and I don’t know…” His voice had gotten raw, tight. “I guess I felt how much I’m loved and accepted here…and I’ve never felt that with my parents. This is what Christmas is supposed to be like, you know?”
Brendan didn’t need to see the faces of Rhys and Cornell to know they were probably as emotional as he was. God, his poor heart. How much more could it take? “Baby boy, you’re right. We love you, and all of us here accept you for who you are. You can be big Raf or little Raf or even Raphael, and it doesn’t make a difference to us. We’ll adjust and be whatever you need.”
The rest of the day was sheer perfection. Raf and Rhys put the gingerbread house together and decorated it with all the candy that didn’t disappear into Raf’s mouth while Brendan and Cornell enjoyed a game of chess. They went outside in the snow where they all built a snowman and made snow angels before they rushed back inside to warm up with hot chocolate with marshmallows and after that, spiked eggnog—except for Raf, of course.
Right after dinner—Rhys had kept it simple with a delicious pot roast, mashed potatoes, and plenty of sides—they lost power, but Rhys started the backup generator, so they were good, even a little cozier with fewer lights on. Brendan snuggled on the couch with Raf under his new weighted blanket, with Rhys and Cornell on the other couch as they watched Home Alone. Raf quickly fell asleep, worn out from playing hard with only a brief nap.
“Is he okay?” Cornell asked softly when the movie was done and Kevin McAllister had been reunited with his parents.
Brendan nodded, his heart softening as he watched the sleeping boy in his arms. “He is. He’s learning to talk about it, and that makes all the difference.”
“He’s strong,” Rhys said. “I’m amazed at how sweet and kind he is after growing up like that.”
“Part of that is thanks to you,” Brendan said. “I will never stop being grateful for what you were able to do for him…and for bringing him to the club.”
Rhys smiled. “It’s always been my pleasure. I’ve loved Raf from the moment we met, and so did my parents. Even my mom, who’s not the most affectionate person as we all know, had a big softness for him.”
“Jonas adored him,” Cornell said, smiling at the memory, it seemed. “He always called him little Raf when he mentioned him. I wonder if he spotted something, even back then.”
“Knowing my dad, that’s not outside the realm of possibilities,” Rhys said. “He was always perceptive.”
They looked at each other, and Brendan felt their grief, as if a veil of sadness had descended over the room. “Is it hard, your first Christmas without him?” Brendan asked. He didn’t want to avoid the subject. Talking was usually the best approach, in his experience.
Rhys and Cornell nodded at the same time. “Yeah. We celebrated Christmas together the last few years since his divorce,” Cornell said softly. “But I have to say that having you guys here has helped. Raf is a distraction, and I mean that in the best of ways. He changes the dynamic, and that has helped me focus on the good, the positive. I have a lot to be thankful for.”
Rhys pulled him close, and they sat quietly for a while. Brendan smiled as Cornell’s eyes fluttered shut, and then it was just him and Rhys.
“You said you’d always be grateful for what I did for Raf, but I feel the same way about you,” Rhys said, his voice soft. “You’re so good for Raf, so good to him. I can see the change in him, and it makes me so happy. He deserves you.”
“God, he makes me happy, Rhys. I never thought I’d find what I was looking for until this gorgeous, sweet boy came into my life.”
They shared a look of understanding, a smile that spoke volumes. “We’re the two luckiest Daddies in the world,” Brendan said.
Rhys’s answer was heartfelt. “Damn right.”
They chatted till the fire had died, the storm still whipping up snow against the windows, and cuddled their boys close. They truly had a wonderful life.
The End
* * *
Read Master Ford’s story now in Slow Hand! Turn the page for a sneak peek…