Matt
OUTSIDE, snow drifted down against the windowpane. A white Christmas. I smiled to myself, thinking of how many times I’d listened to Elvis’s version of the holiday classic. It played in my head, mingling with the soft sounds of Mikah’s breath against my neck and the fizzy patter of snowflakes falling to the frozen ground outside. The air in the bedroom was just shy of uncomfortably cold, and I wondered if Mikah’s dad relied fully on fireplaces to heat the cavernous house. The fire had died overnight, now nothing but a pile of ash in the stone hearth. Instead of getting up to rebuild it, though, I cuddled closer to Mikah.
He was, unsurprisingly, beautiful in his sleep, softer and almost innocent without his usual wry smirks and eyebrow raises. His hair covered half his face, and I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure of trailing my fingers through it to reveal more of his creamy skin. I wanted to kiss his eyelashes and the tip of his nose, but I also wanted him to rest. This, I knew in my bones, was the happiest I’d been in a long time. It was probably the happiest I’d ever be. Again, the thought of building a future with Mikah filled me with a rising tide of warm joy. If I let the tide rise too high, I worried it might bubble up into a laugh that woke the man lying next to me. So instead I mentally listed the things Mikah and I could do together. Free of the obligation to cut down Christmas trees and tie pine boughs into attractive bundles, I could take Mikah skiing. We could go to my favorite restaurant in town. And I could finally cook for him, make him my famous meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes. Okay, so not famous, but John and Katie and Abby liked it enough.
A slow, deep intake of breath next to me pulled me from my daydreams. Mikah’s brown eyes blinked open, and he smiled softly when they met mine.
“Hey,” he breathed, arching his back in an adorable morning stretch.
“Hi.” I pressed my lips to his forehead. Mikah wrapped his arms around my neck, rolling to lie on top of me. I delighted in the brush of his slim thighs against mine, the weight of his chest on my own.
“Hmm, I like waking up with you.” He smiled, half-playful, half-sincere.
“Me too.” My hands drifted downward, and his eyes went wide.
“Do you want to?” Mikah writhed on top of me, and every part of my body woke right up.
As much as I wanted nothing more than to slip back inside him and stroke him until he was panting and crying out under me, the clatter of pans and smell the rich brown scent of coffee drifted up from the kitchen. Mikah seemed to take my silence as a rejection rather than a bookmark, though, and he slid off me, the mask of irony back on his face. It made me weirdly sad, the way he wore his indifference like armor. I would do anything I could to peel it away. Even the one thing I’d been so nervous about.
“I, uh, have something for you.” Tugging on my discarded undershirt, I padded over to where I’d left my coat and the shopping bag the night before. I bit the inside of my cheek to hide a smile as I pulled out the large box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with the twine we used to bind the Christmas trees. Figuring it needed a little bit of color, I’d tucked a tiny spruce sprig into the bow. The tightness in Mikah’s face dissolved. He looked so excited, I stopped worrying that he might not like the gift.
“Oh thank God!” His laugh was a bright, tinkling sound. “I have a present for you too. But I…. Anyway, that doesn’t matter.” He rummaged around in his dresser drawer before pulling out a small box. It was beautifully wrapped in gold paper with a holly motif and a glittery silver ribbon.
“Well, here ya go.” I held out my gift to him, rubbing the back of my neck, which suddenly felt really hot.
Mikah reached out to accept it but at the last minute snapped his hand away like he’d been burned. Confused as hell, I dropped the present on the floor. Thankfully it wasn’t breakable.
“Wait!” Mikah splayed his hands in front of him, shaking his head wildly. “We need to, like, set the scene.” He nodded, mind made up, looking way too cute in only his plaid pajama bottoms.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, laughing and gesturing to the window. “It’s already snowing.”
“Okay. Maybe you can build a fire, because it’s fucking freezing in this house all the time. And I will go get us some coffee. Oh! And panettone! Yes!” His excitement was contagious.
Warmth built in my chest that had nothing to do with the fire as I held a match to a careful arrangement of newspaper and birch logs. If only every Christmas could be like this, every morning for that matter: waking up with Mikah wrapped around me, his citrusy smell and softly parted lips greeting me as I came into the world.
“Sorry that took so long.” Mikah hipped the door closed behind him. I hurried to take both coffee mugs from his hands. A plate balanced precariously on his forearm, and I was impressed that he hadn’t dropped anything. “My dad wanted us to come have coffee with him in the kitchen. But no one else is even up yet. Well, Luca probably is, but I bet he’s working.” He rolled his eyes.
I took a sip of my coffee, and a new tendril of affection for Mikah unfurled in me. He’d made it exactly right, with cinnamon and sugar. I watched as he arranged pillows in front of the fire, placing both gifts and the plate loaded with some kind of bread or cake between them. With a flourish he gestured for me to sit down. I sat and took a grateful bite of the cake. I’d eaten so much the night before, I’d wondered if I would even be able to enjoy any of the elaborate Christmas Day brunch Katie made every year. But I was starving. And this was delicious, soft and buttery with raisins and what tasted like orange.
“You like the panettone?” Mikah’s gaze was intent on my face. I nodded, mouth too full to answer. His cheeks went pink. “This is the first time I made it. My nonna usually does that too. Are you sure you like it?”
I leaned forward to kiss him, tasting coffee and a hint of toothpaste on his lips. “I’m sure. It’s really good.”
“Mmmm. Tastes good on you.” Mikah waggled his eyebrows, and I shook my head.
“Here. Will you open this now?” I handed him the present again, this time holding it with two hands.
Mikah accepted it with a goofy grin, shaking the box and peering at it. His eyes went liquid, and he reached to squeeze my knee. “Matt, you really didn’t have to get me a gift. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I grumbled. “You don’t even know what it is.”
Beaming, he methodically untied the twine and peeled away the tape. Wondering if the extra care was for my benefit made my stomach drop—I loved seeing this sweet, attentive side to Mikah. Once he’d taken his time folding the wrapping paper into a perfect square and set it aside, he squealed in delight and hugged the black Carhartt coat, a Mikah-sized version of my own brown one, to his chest.
“So you don’t freeze to death. And this one will actually fit you,” I explained, looking intently at the fire.
But I could see him out of the corner of my eye, unfolding the thick black material and draping the coat over his shoulders. “Thank you so much! I love it! And—” He broke off, suddenly looking embarrassed. “This is awesome.”
“I’m glad you like it.” The fire popped, a shower of sparks rising up with the smoke. I glanced down at the small present between us. “Can I open it, or…?”
Mikah rolled his eyes and shoved it toward me. “Ugh. Yes. Here, just… it’s superweird, so don’t get your hopes up.”
Gently I slid the ribbon off the box. My fingers shook a little as I peeled away the paper. I didn’t get many gifts. John and Katie usually gave me clothes or CDs even though I told them every year not to worry about getting me a present. I always looked forward to Abby’s gifts, though, which included homemade ornaments, painted rocks, and, last year a watercolor portrait of Moose now proudly displayed in my living room.
I’d had some nice surprises in my life: making the varsity football lineup my freshman year, Dylan Lloyd kissing me when I dropped him off after the state fair, my brother being so supportive of me being gay. But nothing had ever surprised me like Mikah’s gift. Resting on a puffy square of cotton was his grandfather’s necklace. The night before, I’d been so preoccupied with pleasure, I hadn’t even noticed Mikah wasn’t wearing it. But glancing at his chest, bare under the coat, I saw that the gold chain was no longer around his neck. I cleared my throat hard, the telltale prickle in my sinuses warning that I was about to cry.
“If you don’t want to wear it, seriously no worries. I mean, you bought me a coat, and I just gave you something I already owned….” He sounded nervous, his voice tight and thin.
Mikah’s words died as I hauled him into my lap and crushed my mouth to his. He made a startled sound in his throat before relaxing against me, the coat sliding off his shoulders. When our lips parted, both of us were breathing fast and heavy.
“This is the nicest present I’ve ever gotten,” I said, meaning it. I lifted the necklace out of the box. The firelight danced on the polished gold, making it look molten. “Will you put it on me?” My voice was gravel-rough.
Mikah nodded seriously and, without climbing off my lap, reached around my neck to hook the clasp. As soon as it was around my neck, I knew I would never take it off. He patted the pendant and smiled.
“I know that this”—he gestured between the two of us—“might just be for now. But I want you to remember it. Remember me….” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, sorry if it’s a weird gift. Seriously, don’t feel obligated to wear it if you don’t want to.” His voice dropped so low it was barely a whisper.
When things got emotional, it got hard for me to talk. I preferred to communicate with my actions instead of words. But right now I knew Mikah needed both. Gripping his shoulders tight, I tipped my head down to connect our gazes.
“Of course I’ll wear it. Mikah, you mean so much to me….” Speaking got difficult then, so I brushed my lips over his. What started as a gentle kiss grew hungry. I was light-headed with affection, with wanting him, but I knew I had to head home. When I pulled away, Mikah’s needy whimper almost destroyed my last shred of resolve to go to my brother’s brunch.
“Are you sure you have to go?” Mikah intuited.
Nodding, I kissed him one more time for good measure. “What are your plans today?” I pulled Mikah to his feet as I stood. Immediately he stepped between my legs and kissed the necklace where it lay against my chest. My heartbeat faltered.
“I think Naomi’s making ‘healthy’ pancakes.” Mikah made a dubious face. “So you’re probably wise not to stick around for those. After that, not much. Christmas Eve is the bigger deal for us. We’ll open presents later, maybe watch movies and eat leftovers.” He shrugged lightly. “You?”
“My brother’s hosting a brunch. It’ll be a bunch of John’s hunting buddies and Katie’s teacher friends. My sister-in-law makes a mean french toast casserole, though, so it’s worth the small talk. And I want to give my niece her present.” I couldn’t wait to see Abby’s face when she opened the geology kit I’d special-ordered months ago.
Mikah nodded, and I could tell he was about to slip back into his indifferent mask.
“If you’re not doing anything tonight, you want to come over for dinner? I can cook for you. Nothing as nice as you put together last night, but—”
“Yes! Please.” Mikah threw his arms around me.
I CLIMBED into my truck, now coated in a few more inches of powdery snow. I buzzed with energy, my leg bouncing, teeth chattering from the frigid air. My lips kept twitching into a smile, and I didn’t want it to go away. George Strait started crooning “Silent Night” the moment I turned the key in the ignition. I sang along at top volume, not even caring when a group of women in a fancy SUV giggled at me as I glided to a halt next to them at a stoplight. I was happy. Giving them a quick wave, I mouthed, “Merry Christmas,” before turning off toward the Teton Pass. As I approached the road that would take me from Wyoming to Idaho, cars turned around, meaning the pass was closed because of the heavy snow. Usually, this discovery would have me muttering curses under my breath and tensing my jaw. Today, though, I shrugged it off, cranked up my music, and turned to take the long way home.
Pulling up outside the modest two-bedroom ranch where John and I grew up, I realized the jigsaw of minivans and trucks in the gravel driveway meant I would have to park a good hundred yards from the house. How the hell did John and Katie have so many friends? If I’d been thinking, I would have parked at home. But I was excited to give Abby her present. And I was starving. As I trudged through the snow to the front door, which was outlined in blinking colored lights and adorned with a huge fir wreath, Moose barked from inside. Abby pulled the door open, wearing some kind of superhero costume and waving wildly.
“Merry Christmas, Uncle Matt!”
I scooped her into my arms, lifting her high overhead. “Merry Christmas, bug.” I set her down inside the threshold and shrugged out of my jacket. “How was your grandma’s?”
Abby twisted her shoulders and scrunched her nose. She looked like a miniature version of her mother, with shiny black hair and tawny skin. “It was okay. Auntie Mary wears too much perfume.” Moose padded up behind her, and I bent to scratch his head.
I laughed, grateful I’d taken a shower before leaving Mikah’s so I wouldn’t be subject to the same scrutiny.
“Merry Christmas, bro!” John strolled into the small entryway, wearing a truly hideous green-and-red sweater. His dark hair was dusted with snow.
“Oh dang, was this an ugly sweater party?” I teased.
“Grandma made it for him,” Abby informed me. John nodded grimly. Every year Katie’s mom knitted them holiday sweaters, and somehow John’s was always the ugliest.
I followed them into the living area. It was hard to believe this was the same house I’d been raised in. John had cleaned the place up after our parents passed, scrubbing the yellowed linoleum in the kitchen and ridding the house of the piles of old magazines and unread junk mail. But when Katie moved in, she whipped the place into shape. The dingy flooring was replaced with wide-plank reclaimed wood, and the once off-white walls were now painted a variety of bright colors. The house smelled different too. Gone was the tang of stale beer and neglected dishes. Katie always burned cinnamon candles, making the place feel warm and cozy. The kitchen was full of Katie’s friends, chatting and helping my sister-in-law put the finishing touches on brunch.
“Hey, stranger!” Katie shook off her oven mitts and wrapped me in a big hug. She looked pretty, in fitted jeans and a much more toned-down sweater with a snowflake pattern. “You have a good time at your boyfriend’s place?”
Not wanting to sound fifteen in front of a bunch of strange women, I bit back the he’s not my boyfriend retort and nodded.
“You got a boyfriend?” Abby asked excitedly. “Did he give you that necklace?”
My hand flew automatically to my chest, and I could feel myself blushing as I tucked it under my shirt. “Yup.”
“Oh, really?” Katie eyed me shrewdly.
Desperate to evade the coming inquisition, I grabbed a muffin from a tray on the concrete breakfast bar dividing the kitchen from the den. It was gross, though: store-bought and sickly sweet. I turned my attention back to my niece. “So what did Santa bring?” I asked. I’d given the wrapped geology kit to Katie the morning before, and she’d promised me Abby wouldn’t open it until I came over.
Abby ticked the gifts off on her fingers. “Umm, some books, and an art set, and a new nightlight, and, uhh… oh! A dog lovie that looks like Moose!” She pointed to a stuffed Bernese Mountain Dog tossed haphazardly on the plaid sofa.
“It does look like Moose,” I agreed. “You gonna name it Moose Jr.?”
Abby furrowed her brows at the suggestion. “No. His name is Gunther.” She sighed like this should have been obvious. Katie nodded seriously.
“Well, I got you something too.” I cut my eyes over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the den, circled with a popcorn garland and exploding with tinsel. Clearly, Abby had a large hand in decorating it.
“The big one?” Abby darted to grab the gift, tearing excitedly at the paper before I could even respond. “What?” she shrieked as she unzipped the canvas backpack storing the rock-collecting kit and pulled out the various tools and magnifying glasses. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
“This is a real geology kit. So you need to be careful with the tools, okay?” I gave Abby the sternest look I could muster in the face of her delight. She had slipped on the safety goggles, which were a little too big for her face.
“Do you want to give Uncle Matt his present?” Katie said to her daughter pointedly. With obvious reluctance Abby tucked the kit back into the backpack and rummaged through the remaining pile of gifts for mine, clumsily wrapped in cartoon reindeer paper.
“I wonder what it could be.” I grinned at my niece.
“You know.” Abby shook her head, exasperated.
This year’s ornament was made of bright green beads and pipe cleaners. It was some kind of animal, long, skinny, and four legged. Giving it an appreciative nod, I tucked it carefully back into the recycled cookie box it came in.
“Thanks, bug.” I bent to kiss the top of her head. “It’s a real nice… crocodile?” I knew I was probably getting it wrong.
Abby scoffed. “It’s a dog.”
Usually when I came to gatherings at my brother’s house, everyone seemed to segregate along gender lines. Most of the women hung out in the kitchen, chatting amiably and putting together trays of pastries or appetizers. The men congregated in the barn if it was nice out, or if it was cold, like today, in the heated garage. I never really felt comfortable anywhere and tended to walk back and forth between the two rooms so much, I worked up a sweat. When I drifted into the garage, it was crowded with John’s friends, most of them drinking coffee but a few already nursing beers. John, who never drank, was sitting in a camping chair and watching a football game on the portable TV resting on his workbench.
“Hey, Matt.” I turned to find Dylan Lloyd, my first crush, first kiss, first everything, leaning against the chest freezer. Dylan, whose deeply conservative family ran a sporting goods store a few towns over, was profoundly, heartbreakingly closeted. He was taller than me, which honestly was rare, and handsome with close-cropped dark hair and a charming smile. Because no one but me and his younger sister knew he was gay, he was the object of a lot of misdirected flirting and speculation around town. We got together from time to time, but even though he was a nice guy, I hated the secrecy of it. I wanted a partner, not a hookup who refused to look me in the eye after we both got off. Being with him just wasn’t enough. I wanted exactly what I’d found with Mikah.
“Hey,” I said belatedly. I wanted to brush my fingers against Mikah’s necklace, but I stuffed my hands into my pockets instead.
“Good Christmas?” Dylan took a long sip of beer.
I shrugged. “Not bad. You?” He grunted in response. Neither of us were stellar conversationalists.
Glancing around, he dropped his voice low. “Have any plans for tonight?”
My heart broke for him and, a little bit, for myself. “Yup.”
“Oh, is Mikah comin’ over?” John piped up from behind me. Had he been listening to my nonconversation with his friend? Surprise registered on Dylan’s face. I said nothing.
“My little bro got himself a real cute boyfriend.” John beamed. Everyone knew I was gay, but not everyone was comfortable with it. John, though, had zero tolerance for snide remarks or hatred in his house. “The dude came to buy a tree from us, and next thing I know, Matt was skipping out on work, and they were gettin’ hot and heavy.”
I shot my asshole brother a glare but refused to show any other signs of discomfort. A few guys mumbled what sounded like cool, and everyone else returned their attention pointedly to the game.
Dylan was staring at his hiking books, his grip on his beer bottle tight. When his hazel eyes met mine, I tried to communicate my apology without words. Unable to stop myself, my fingers closed around the necklace, and I let myself feel it all: the yearning, the affection, the desperate hope that Mikah could stay with me.