12
JUNIOR
Waking up in Tanner’s bed on Christmas morning is the best gift I could ever receive. It took us a while to realize Tanner’s uncle is gone every weekend because he’s got a boyfriend, or at least a regular hookup.
I have suspicions about who it is, but I keep my thoughts to myself. In the meantime, I lie here for a moment, watching the way Tanner’s face glows in the morning sun. No makeup, no eyeliner, just him. I feel like I have access to the secret codes, seeing his dark lashes fan against his pale, freckled cheek.
He was a little shy about his acne scars the first time I saw him without makeup, but I put that to bed quick-fast. No way my goth sprite will ever feel less than beautiful. Not if I have anything to say about it.
I lean in to kiss his lashes, and he blinks awake, his eyes lit by the sun. Like a sleepy cat, he’s warm and soft as he yawns and stretches in my arms.
“Good morning,” he says, snuggling into me.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas, Junior.”
We spent Christmas Eve at my parents’ house, exchanging gifts at the stroke of midnight. My family’s always done a Secret Santa gift exchange with the presents capped at twenty-five dollars, and it was fun introducing Tanner to our family customs.
Mom pulled me aside and said she adores Tanner’s style. It reminds her of her goth high school and college days. She even asked him about his highlighter, which I know made him feel good.
Dad also pulled me aside, though he just wanted to make sure I was being kind to him and we were being safe.
“Is he a good driver, son?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me. “That car of his looks like a death trap.”
“Yes, Dad. He’s never had an accident, and we’ll look at getting him a truck after he gets his business started. Something safe.”
“Good.”
Tanner and I ended up with Amazon gift cards, but our gifts—still capped at twenty-five dollars since neither of us is rolling in dough—were a bit more personal.
Mine was easy. He mentioned a particular eyeliner he enjoyed but was very expensive. My dad once told me that the key to giving a good gift is to get something that the person wants but thinks is too frivolous to buy for themselves.
Tanner was so excited about the eyeliner that he jumped in my lap and kissed me until he remembered we were at my parents’ house. He jumped off me like I’d burned him, not realizing my parents love that shit.
His gift was incredibly sweet as well. Mrs. Abrams, it seems, has a bit of a budding business now that she’s in her eighties. In addition to lotions and creams, she’s got a homemade beard oil that smells amazing. I suspect he went a little over budget, but I’m not going to complain. Especially this morning with his face buried in my beard and a hard-on growing against my hip.
“Someone’s in the Christmas spirit,” I growl.
He bites his lip and nods, kissing his way down my chest. He suckles my nipple for a moment before kissing my belly and running his fingers through my chest hair.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve discovered he has a thing for my body hair. I don’t hate it.
He pushes down my reindeer pajama bottoms and holds me with a steady gaze as he gives my cock a long, wet lick.
“Damn, I love you,” I say, cupping his jaw.
He pulls back, his eyes comically round. I think over my words and feel my eyes widen as well.
“It’s okay. You just said it in the moment—”
I touch my fingertips to his mouth, stopping his words.
“I mean it. I very much mean it. I’ve been falling in love with you since you showed up at the ranch with your goth-kitten attire.”
He crawls back up my body, kissing me with everything he’s got. I slide my hand over his ass, appreciating the curve of it, pulling him closer as we lose ourselves in our favorite—well, second favorite—activity.
He comes up for air, littering kisses across my cheekbones before whispering in my ear, “I love you too. I didn’t think I’d know what that meant at this age, but I do. I love you, and I trust you, and I’ve never felt safer being who I really am.”
