Mark left the jobsite early on the day before Christmas Eve to get his shopping done before the last minute for a change. He only had one gift to buy, but it was important to get it right.
When he was growing up, he’d made gifts for his grandma for every occasion. Once high school and his apprenticeship were in the rearview mirror, though, he’d gotten lazy. She hadn’t complained. He’d filled her countertops with the latest gadgets to make her life easier, and then had expanded to tech toys like eReaders and home theater systems. But she still kept his birdhouses and wooden bowls alongside her SmartTV and collection of antique music boxes.
“Not this year,” he muttered to himself. Nobody was around to hear—not much foot traffic at a suburban strip mall at noon, in the rain. Even with less than forty-eight hours until Christmas.
He’d picked this particular strip mall in a so-new-it-shone area of town because of a certain someone. Mark had no idea what the guy’s name was, or anything about him beyond where he worked. Only that he couldn’t get him out of his mind. There was something about him…
Mark had just wrapped-up the finish work on a bathroom remodel in a brand-new condo in the neighborhood and had seen the ridiculously handsome man through the window. Whenever he’d made a run to the home improvement store anchoring the mall, he’d felt self-conscious. Even more so when he parked in a spot that allowed him to see inside the yarn shop.
And yet, he had volunteered to run for supplies every time the crew needed anything.
Mark never thought he’d go into a yarn shop by himself. He’d driven his grandma a few times—when her car had been in the shop or for a birthday surprise—but this was basically uncharted territory. He was completely out of his element, which was as unfamiliar as the shop itself.
Christmas decorations and red, white, and green yarn filled the windows that were framed with a tasteful frosting of snow and a few hand painted snowflakes. As Mark stood there contemplating just what in the name of holiday cheer he thought he was doing, he walked to the center of the window.
Holy Christmas, he’s even hotter close up.
A grin and the lift of one eyebrow told Mark he’d been staring. Or leering.
He went inside before he could change his mind.
“Hello, and how may I help you today?”
Was that a leer? Or maybe a slight ogle?
“Um, hi. I’m…I just need to look around a little. Thanks.”
Mark silently berated himself for walking away from his crush. In his defense, he’d been sure that actually meeting the man—standing face to face with him and speaking to him—would end the infatuation as fast as a pin ended a balloon. Instead, he felt hot and prickly and itching to make a move. The guy was sending vibes like a spotlight pointed at the night sky.
No. Get what you came for and go. Nobody gets lucky in a yarn shop.
Mark wandered toward the back of the store, checking out the knitted shawls, hats, and gloves, and resisting every urge to fondle the baskets full of yarn. Everything looked so soft and inviting, from the yarn to the man selling it. Mark didn’t think of himself as indecisive, but he wouldn’t mind browsing every last item in the store even if it kept him there all day.
He’d been around most of the shop and had started to think the whole idea was a bust, when he saw it. A purple scarf in a chunky, close pattern. It almost looked like a boa without the feathers. The yarn seemed familiar, which could only mean he’d seen similar yarn at his grandma’s house. Ergo, she would probably like it.
He lifted the scarf from the mannequin’s shoulders and searched for a price tag.
As though he’d been watching, his crush appeared at Mark’s side.
“That’s one of our specials this week. We have the holiday colorways in the front. I’ll be happy to show you where.”
“How much are you charging for this?” Mark held up the scarf, draped between his hands and framing his crush’s face. This is his color.
“Darling, that’s not for sale. But you can buy the yarn and make one yourself.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t knit. I need a gift for my grandma, though, so...”
“You could make that exact scarf in a couple of short hours. Come with me, I’ll show you.” He walked a few steps deeper into the shop and then stopped and turned. “Come on…”
“Mark.”
“Come on, Mark. I’m Chris.” He stepped near enough to offer his hand to shake. When Mark hesitated, Chris placed his other fist on his hip and frowned. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”
“Something is familiar about you, but I thought maybe I’d just seen you out sometime. At a bar or…”
“Picture me with a bright blue fade. Ten years younger and oh-so twinkier?”
Mark froze. Periwinkle blue hair popped right into his mind. The periwinkle blue hair he’d tried so hard not to notice in high school. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to admit to remembering or not.
Chris laughed. Not mocking, as though he truly were happy that Mark remembered him.
“I see you do remember. We’re only open for another three hours today, so we’ll have to get cracking.” Chris winked and resumed walking, and Mark followed even though he had no idea what Chris had in mind.
They ended up back in the front window looking at a whole table full of that thick, knobby yarn. Chris took the scarf from Mark’s hands and draped it around the shoulders of another of those headless and legless mannequins on poles.
“So. Any of these will work. What’s your grandma’s favorite color?”
“Purple. But she also likes black.”
“Of course she does, it goes with everything!” Chris plucked two hanks of black from the table and headed toward the back again.
“I thought you said the holiday colors are out here? Black is a Christmas color now?”
“Like I said, it goes with everything.” Chris tossed a flirty wink over his shoulder. A few steps later, he stopped in front of a comfy-looking sofa. “Sit. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Mark took off his coat, draped it over the arm, and sat on the sofa. It was as cozy as it looked. For a moment Mark wished he could sit back and relax. He’d been busy in the past few months, helping fancy people get their condos and McMansions ready for the holidays.
Chris plopped down beside him—close beside him—and brought Mark’s mind back to the present as fast as snapping a chalk line. Chris pulled an empty wicker basket to sit at their feet and dropped one hank of yarn into the bottom. He wrapped his hand around the other hank and made a suggestive show of sliding the paper off.
Grinning, he dropped the yarn into the basket and held up the end.
Mark couldn’t resist, he reached out and touched the thick strand of yarn. In the window, both had looked the same, but close up they were subtly different colors of black. The yarn was soft but knobby, with a rustic look and feel. He couldn’t begin to imagine how he was supposed to turn it into a scarf.
“What is this kind of yarn called?”
Chris raised one perfect eyebrow and grinned. After a moment he rested his arm on his thigh and caressed the yarn with both hands. “It’s handspun. Some yarns are made by twisting multiple strands together. This is a single strand—single ply—and is made to look like a beginner’s yarn. As though a lovely peasant boy sheared his sheep and then brought the wool inside and spun it into yarn.”
“That sounds like a fairy tale.”
“Doesn’t it, though?” Chris sighed and stared out into the store, a dreamy look on his face for approximately ten seconds. “This is eighty five percent wool and fifteen percent silk, so it’s not as rustic as it seems.”
“That’s why it’s so soft.”
“And why it has such a lovely sheen. But. This chit-chat, pleasant as it is, isn’t getting your scarf done. So. First I need to get the other end.” Chris’s cheeks flushed pink as he dove toward the basket and retrieved the first hank of yarn. When he sat up, he held the ends together in his hands. “And now we can start.”
Mark watched as Chris lined up the ends and then made a loop. He pulled the yarn through the loop and smoothed it out. He made another loop and then slid one over each of his hands. His lovely slender fingers pulled the working yarn through one loop and then the other, keeping each new loop around his hand as the scarf started to grow toward the floor. And then he did it again. And once more.
“See how easy that is? Now you.” Chris held out the yarn and Mark gave a passing thought to asking Chris to finish it in exchange for…whatever he wanted. And Mark had a few ideas of what he hoped Chris wanted. All of which sounded more than pleasant.
But that wouldn’t get Grandma a handmade gift from her grandson. Mark considered it a point of pride that he not wiggle out of the promise he’d made to himself. Even though he’d much rather wiggle around with Chris than pull yarn through a loop.
Chris accidentally brushed his palm down the back of Mark’s hand, his fingertips gently playing at his wrist. Just for a moment, but that was more than enough to get the point across.
“Okay, so I just pull the yarn through the loop?”
“Exactly.”
Mark did it a couple of times and felt insanely proud of himself. “I’m doing it.”
“Of course you are, darling. I have another customer. I’ll be back soon.” Chris patted his thigh and then he stood and walked away, leaving Mark staring at his gorgeous ass with his hands full of yarn.
When he looked back at the growing scarf between his hands, for a moment he forgot what to do. He wasn’t sure which side he’d pulled the yarn through last, but neither side seemed to be longer than the other, so he kept going with his left hand. It looked okay, so he made a few more loops.
Chris’s voice rang through the shop, chatting and laughing with the customer. Mark listened as he worked. Now that he knew who Chris was, he wondered why he didn’t realize from the start. Especially after hearing his voice.
They hadn’t exactly been friends in high school, but had travelled in some of the same circles so they weren’t strangers either. Their main interaction had been in honors classes, but once in a while they would be at the same party or school function. Mark always noticed Chris in ways that made him slightly uncomfortable. He had no plans to be out, to invite the kind of attention Chris seemed to revel in. It just wasn’t Mark’s style. Mark had played sports and spent his time outside of school volunteering and doing just about anything his grandmother suggested, leaving him far too busy for dating.
And he stuck to that story for four years of high school and two years of community college.
But he did wonder what it would be like to be that outgoing, to have boyfriends and dye his hair bright colors and—
Well, maybe not the hair coloring.
Mark was busy pulling yarn though loops and thinking about his high school years when Chris dropped onto the couch beside him.
“That looks amazing. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”
Mark jerked in surprise and one of the loops fell off his hands. His throat tightened as he felt a moment of panic that his work would unravel. Chris smiled and put the loop back on. After quickly squeezing his hand, Chris leaned back against the couch.
“Can I ask you a nosy question?”
“Sure.” Mark kept working, and started to wonder how long he should make the scarf so Chris’s question seemed to come out of the blue.
“Are you out now?”
“Yes. Mostly. I mean, a couple of the guys I work with might not know, but I don’t make a big secret of it.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. I wish I would’ve done it sooner.” Mark rested his arms on his thighs and turned to look at Chris. His eyes were slightly dilated and his smile said lovely things about what might happen between them later. “I was always worried my family wouldn’t take it well. But they didn’t have much of a reaction at all. My boss, I saw him one night when I was out dancing, so that was a non-event. To be honest, I was jealous of you in high school. I wished I could’ve done that too—been out.”
“Well, it wasn’t all rainbows and glitter.”
“Yeah, I remember. But you didn’t let anyone stop you. I was…in awe of your fierceness.”
“And now here you are in my shop, up to your massive forearms in handspun.” Chris sighed and his eyes twinkled. “The circle of life.”
“What?” Mark chuckled and turned back to his scarf.
“Oh, I wanted to bag you in high school. You knew that, right?”
Mark froze, his eyes trained on a point across the room but all he saw was ten-years-ago Chris and his flirty walk and… He swung his attention back to the man beside him. The extremely sexy, kind, and confident man beside him, who had wanted him back when he’d been none of those things.
“No. I didn’t know that. I was a little clueless back then.”
“And now?”
“Now, not so much. I’ve had some time to figure things out.” Mark grinned and made a few more loops on his grandma’s scarf.
“So then you won’t be surprised when I close up early and take you in the back room.”
“To be honest, this whole day has been surprising. But that would be the best surprise of all.”
Chris’s smile turned naughty and he leaned close. “It’s time you figured out how to do that faster so I can show you my back room.”
Mark quickened his pace, but his attention stayed riveted on Chris, on his lovely eyes with their mischievous glint. At least they did until his hands stopped moving, and he found he’d tied himself in a knot.
Laughing, Chris untangled Mark’s hands from the yarn. After recovering from having those slender fingers teasing his pulse point and drawing seductively across his palm, Mark resumed pulling loop after loop, until Chris stopped him.
“That looks perfect, you’re a natural.”
“It’s finished?”
“Unless you want to make it longer.”
Mark carefully transferred both loops to one hand and stretched the scarf out at eye level. “Is four feet long enough?”
“You’re sure that’s four feet?” Chris’s sideways grin grabbed Mark right in the feels. In the “I want to feel his hands on me” sense of the word, anyway.
If he were being completely honest, Mark wanted to ask Chris out and see if their chemistry was real or only lust that could be burned off with one hot hookup.
“Absolutely. I do remodeling and finish work. I’ve had a lot of experience eyeballing materials.”
Chris took the scarf from Mark and coiled it into the basket, his eyes locked on Mark’s. “I need your expertise. Come with me.” He stood and gently pulled Mark to his feet.
Still holding onto his hand, Chris led him away from the front of the store and through a door labelled “Employees Only.” He left the door open a crack and wrapped his arms around Mark—crushing his mouth onto Mark’s as though he would devour him.
It took a moment to recover from the shock but once he had, Mark gave as good as he got—drawing Chris against his chest and kissing him deeply. His skin tingled as their tongues twined, dancing and tasting. When Mark started to feel lightheaded, Chris pulled back, nipping his bottom lip as he did.
“You do have experience.”
“I’d like to get more.”
“Ooh, and what kind would that be?” Chris took two steps forward, pressing Mark back against the wall beside the door. His legs rubbery, Mark looked down into Chris’s flushed face. So many things flitted through his mind, and he wanted to do them all. His cock was half hard even though they hadn’t done anything except kiss.
“Whatever you had in mind when you brought me in here. I mean, I’m game for—”
Chris planted a hand in the center of Mark’s chest. Whatever he’d planned to say or do was lost as Chris added his other hand and squeezed Mark’s pecs. “Oh. You are a physical man, aren’t you? So many lovely muscles. But these,” Chris tweaked Mark’s left nipple, making him moan aloud, “will have to wait. For now, you stay there, and I’ll be the one getting more experience.” Chris winked and then slid down Mark’s body until he knelt at his feet.
Mark felt like he was in a dream. He half expected to wake up before anything else happened. But no, there was Chris un-hooking his belt and popping the button on his jeans. And there was Chris tonguing his belly button as he slid his zipper down. Chris’s lovely slender fingers gently danced over Mark’s holiday boxer briefs. He looked up, smiling.
“I’m glad you came in today.”
“So am I. And not only because you’re on your knees.”
“I bet you say that to all the guys.”
Mark smiled and buried a hand in Chris’s silky hair. “Yes. I mean no. There are no other guys at the moment.”
“I’m the lucky one. Entrepreneurship pays in so many ways.”
“I came in to see you, but I didn’t know you were you.” Mark shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“To be fair…” Chris pressed his palm over Mark’s cock and rubbed gently, making him gasp. “Most of your blood has rushed away from your brain. I’m sure you’re better at words when your dick is in your pants.”
“Technically, it still is in…” The rest of that sentence dissolved into a groan as Chris quickly freed Mark’s cock and took it deep into his throat. The sensation of Chris’s warm mouth coupled with the pressure and Mark’s raging infatuation almost had him popping off the second time Chris’s palate squeezed down on his cock. A fortuitously-timed car horn in the parking lot saved him from the embarrassment.
After a few more strokes Chris pulled his mouth away slowly, until Mark’s wet cock stood between Chris’s fist and his swollen lips.
Chris cut his eyes toward the door. For a long moment, Mark thought he would stop, that someone was about to enter the shop and Chris would have to go and help them. He’d just wondered what he would do in that event. Would he stay and wait for the happy ending, or would the mood be broken and his only chance with Chris gone, dashed as quickly as it had begun, another hookup-gone-bad for his collection? When Chris turned back to him, looking up through damp lashes with an expression of lust and mischief, Mark wasn’t sure his legs would continue to hold him.
Luckily, the front door to the shop stayed closed. Chris dove back onto his cock. He deep-throated and fondled Mark’s balls, holding him against the wall with one surprisingly strong hand braced against his abs. He gave up trying to parse the source of that homey scent as his orgasm built deep in his core.
When his last spasms faded, Chris was still holding Mark up against the wall. Chris’s smile had lost a hint of its mischief, replaced by something gentle. Something Mark didn’t quite have a name for. At least not immediately after coming so hard he’d cracked his head against the wall and barely noticed.
“Crap,” Chris said, just as the bells on the front door jangled. He sat back on his heels and grinned up at Mark. “Sorry, I have to go help this customer.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry I can’t reciprocate.”
Chris waggled his eyebrows as he stood. “The day is young.”
He glided out of the back room and greeted the customer with a cheery “Happy Holidays!”
Mark put himself together and took a quick look around the room. A storeroom and break room combined, it looked both like a homey and comfortable place to grab lunch or a quick coffee break, and a haphazard catch-all for various things not needed out front—from Easter decorations to dog-eared sale signs. And more yarn.
He waited until he heard the sounds of Chris ringing up a sale before slipping out and back onto the couch. The register faced the back of the store, so he was treated to an amused grin from Chris and the back view of a woman who reminded him of his grandma—purple coat, red hat, luggage-sized purse and all.
He returned to the scarf, impressed and a little surprised that he remembered how the process worked. After he’d added a few more loops, Chris plopped down beside him and bumped shoulders.
“I appreciate your discretion.”
Mark answered with a smile, unsure whether he could keep pulling loops and speak at the same time. His mind was still recovering from an epic blowjob, after all.
“Like we decided before, that looks like it’s long enough.” Chris’s half-leer didn’t quite hide that undercurrent Mark had seen earlier. He still wasn’t exactly sure what it meant, only that he wanted to explore it, to examine every kernel of meaning over a nice bottle of wine before he did his level best to top the treatment he’d just received. Or vice versa. “Would you rather I walk you through the binding off, or handle it for you? I don’t mind doing it for you.”
“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that offer of handling it.” Mark gave the scarf to Chris, who tossed back an approving grin.
It barely took Chris five minutes to cut the yarn and complete a few fancy moves Mark was sure were beyond his meager skills to finish off the ends. He opened his mouth to speak and the front door opened again, the cheery bells interrupting further conversation. Chris stood and Mark thought it was with reluctance and maybe a touch of annoyance as well.
“I’ll pay you whenever you have a second. I’m not in a hurry to leave.”
“Do you have plans tonight?” Chris’s pretty eyes widened for just a moment, and he rushed on. “I mean, I’m having a party, and you should drop by.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense. You’re not intruding at all. I’ll give you the deets when we settle up for the wool.” Chris winked and floated off toward the two women oohing and ahhing over the holiday colors on the table where Mark’s scarf had started out as two bundles of yarn not so long ago.
Once the view of Chris’s backside—his pert ass and shiny hair—was gone, Mark turned to the scarf he’d made. He couldn’t quite believe that in about two hours he’d made this lovely scarf that felt like a squishy boa—with his own two hands—and also gotten maybe the most wonderful blowjob of his life.
The naked truth of the matter was that he didn’t care whether Chris gave the best blowjobs in the world—he wanted more of them. From him. And he felt as though he’d been spoiled for other men, which was just silly. Not that Mark had ever been a player, but he had always appreciated a firm ass and a flirty grin. There was something about Chris’s ass and grin that made Mark’s chest feel hollow and full at once, and he was old enough to recognize special when he felt it.
My mind is still spinning from coming right next to the open door. That must be it. Dangerous sex has never been my thing, but right now I’m not sure why.
Mark wound the remaining yarn into two small balls—something he had experience in, thanks to his grandma—and gathered his things from the couch. When the two women followed Chris to the register, Mark fell into line behind them.
The skin around Chris’s eyes seemed tight while he said thank you and good-bye and happy holidays to the ladies, and watched them leave the store. He spent an extra moment watching them walk away, talking and laughing together, before turning to Mark.
“I’d offer to take you back and give you your turn against the wall, but someone else would probably come in and interrupt.” Mark squirmed under Chris’s gaze, a slight frown pulling his perfect brows together. The strip mall parking lot had filled while they were…busy. Pairs and trios of shoppers strolled along the sidewalk peering in the windows. It was only a matter of time before someone else came inside. Hopefully, for Chris’s sake.
“You can make it up to me by coming to the party tonight.” Chris’s frown disappeared, but his smile didn’t glow with the same wattage as it had earlier.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Let me see your phone. I’ll give you my number and point your map app to my apartment.”
Mark handed his phone over, the brush of Chris’s fingers against the back of his hand sending a happy trail of goosebumps up his arm. Luckily, his jacket hid the reaction. He didn’t want Chris to think one bj would turn him into a puddle at his feet. Even though that was a fair assessment. Figuratively.
Once the transaction was completed and Chris handed his phone back, Mark struggled to find a reason to stay. It didn’t make sense but he felt as though leaving were a bad move, as though if he left he would never see Chris again—or at least not for another decade. By then, he would surely be in a relationship and forever beyond Mark’s reach. The thought tightened his throat and made it difficult to sound unaffected when he said good-bye.
“Seven. Don’t be late.”
Mark paused at the door. “Seven o’clock.”
Chris waved, but he might have looked a little sad as Mark pulled the door open and slipped out onto the sidewalk.