“I have a nice rug in the garage. It might be a little big for this space.” I bit my lower lip, thinking.
“If it’s too big, we can fold it by the walls.” Saxon had good solutions. He pointed to the wall under the window and to the side. “With the tree and stuff in front of it, you won’t be able to tell.”
Donny clapped his hands. “Let’s do this.”
I grabbed my guitar and pushed the stool into the living room. I put the instrument in my bedroom out of the way.
“I’d like to hear you play sometime,” Saxon said as he opened the box Donny had left on the floor.
“Um…sure. I can play anything. I can listen to any song for a bit and be able to pick it up.”
“Wow. Really? That’s impressive. Guess that’s why you’re so good.”
“Maybe.” I hadn’t thought about it much. “I practice a lot.”
Donny came back in with a few bags. “Still more. Here.” He handed them to me and rushed back outside. I looked through them and saw ornaments, tinsel, and clingy decorations to stick on the window. When he’d brought everything in, he had six bags of stuff. “I got spray snow.” He sing songed, pulling out the can and shaking it.
“Wee!” I grabbed it from him and headed for the window. “Let’s do the corners.” I had two windows with no dividers in them, so eight corners. “This will look sick.”
We set up the tree in front of the newly decorated window but were saving the ornaments until later that night. Saxon promised to make us cocoa while we hung them. Instead, we went back to my room to touch up the painting and put the furniture together. By the end of the night, we were exhausted.
We’d finished up the tree and cocoa when Saxon put his arm around my shoulders. “Will you play something for us? How about a Christmas carol?”
I dashed into the bedroom to grab my acoustic guitar. “What do you want to hear?” I sat on the couch with my instrument resting on my leg. “I can play almost anything.”
Donny raised his hand in the air. “I know. I know.”
“What do you want to hear?” Saxon asked, wrapping him up in a hug.
“Santa Claus is Coming to Town. That was always a favorite.”
“You got it.” I strummed and fiddled around, plucking the strings a minute to catch the tune. “You have to sing, Donny.”
“I will.”
I played, and we sang not only that one, but three more. Then I set the guitar aside. “I’m tired. We can do more tomorrow if you want.”
“I think you both need to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed.” Saxon urged us into the bathroom. We cleaned up, brushed, and headed to bed, where all three of us climbed in and cuddled. If any of us wanted more, the others were too tired, and we all fell asleep pretty quickly.
The next morning was Christmas, and the best gift of all was being woken up with a blowie. “Whoa…mmm…” Donny hovered over me, sucking my cock, but Saxon had rolled over facing us, and he was rubbing Donny’s back.
He grabbed the back of Donny’s head, pulling him off me. “My turn.” Donny moved and Saxon went down, though he was positioned almost in a sixty-nine. Donny leaned over and started blowing him while he was blowing me. It was so sexy, and my morning wood was so fucking hard, it didn’t take much for me to explode.
Apparently, Saxon agreed, because he came too. Then Donny sat back and grabbed his cock and shook it. “What about me?”
“I got you, baby.” I lunged for him, and while I sucked him off, Saxon played with his balls and fingered him.
The best part was how natural it was. None of us were shy or awkward, and we didn’t have to discuss who was doing what. We simply did whatever felt good.
“Merry Christmas, boys.” Saxon pulled us both in for a big hug and then kissed us. “How about pancakes, then presents?”
“How about coffee, then presents, andthenpancakes?” Donny asked.
“Sounds good to me.” I had to agree, and I wasn’t ready for breakfast anyway.
We all ran out to the foyer where we’d put the tree. Donny dragged a blanket and a few pillows on the floor in front of the tree for us to sit, while Saxon sat on the ottoman we’d also moved. There weren’t many presents, but there were some. I’d stuffed a couple under there myself, but Donny and Saxon had also.
Donny and I tore open packages as soon as Saxon handed them over. Some were practical, like guitar pics and a big journal with blank sheet music in it. I’d gotten some nice pens for Donny and a plaque for his desk that saidBoss Man. Saxon had been harder to shop for since I hadn’t known him long. I ended up getting him a funny shirt for firefighters that saidReal Firemen Play With Their Hosesand had a cartoon firehose on it, along with a framed picture of Donny and me together, which I liked. Donny got him a blanket with a firefighter on it and a funny coffee mug that hadfirefighterscratched out andI spray waterwritten underneath it.
