I fucking love Heath’s place. It’s a goth heaven.
Thearrivedclick on the app is nothing but a formality. Josh is already knocking at the door before we get the reply.
“Heathy baby!” Josh yells when our lover appears, and I almost piss myself laughing to see Heath in a blue snowflake patterned jumper that practically mirror’s Josh’s. The snowflake jumper duo.
Heath gestures us inside, and grabs me in a bear hug, kissing me over and over on the cheek.
“Happy Christmas, sweet curva.” He pulls away to admire my outfit. “What a festive angel.”
“I’m hardly an angel in white for the top of the tree.”
“I’d rather you as a scarlet vixen in sparkles.”
“I chose well, then.”
“You always do.”
It takes me aback to be here again. Once again, I admire Heath’s decor as the two guys hug and kiss and jibe each other over their jumpers. Heath’s black jacquard wallpaper contrasted by strips of white are after my own heart. I check myself out in his huge black framed mirror at the end of the hallway, and take a glance above it at his framed pictures…
Black, purple and neon green.
His taste just like Josh’s.
And I can’t help but wonder… if someday. Just maybe. Those pictures will have some more alongside them.
Pictures of us.
My heels clack as I walk across Heath’s tiled black and white floor, my hand sliding across the grand ebony banister rail. Iwalk on into the living room with its massive period looking fireplace, and his bookshelves on either side. I kick off my heels on his purple rug with flecks of green and take a seat on his black sofa, getting myself comfy with his big cartoon lip cushion.
Heath’s fire is lit, burning bright. His tree is black with purple fairy lights, and the baubles are neon green. And as for the tree topper, it’s a great choice. A sparkling silhouette of a bat, that must be bespoke, because you’d never find one like that on the high street. No chance.
Our host grabs a bottle of red from the kitchen. He pours out our glasses with aseason’s greetings, and Josh doesn’t hold back from drinking this time. The driving limit doesn’t apply anymore tonight.
“What an absolute delight,” our host says. “I’m so used to solitary festivities outside of celebrity socials. I was expecting a night holed up with mince pies and The Nightmare Before Christmas.”
His cool blue eyes are magnetic as he looks at Josh.
“I’m honoured, truly.”
“Nah,” Josh says, and pulls him in for another hug. “We’re honoured. Ella was practically dancing about the place when you accepted the date change.”
“So were you!” I say. “Don’t play it down, Josh. You were grinning like the Cheshire cat.”
“I had a grin myself, in fact,” Heath tells us. “Quite a wide one.” He laughs. “And quite a hard dick at the thought of a Christmas fuck under the tree. It needs a christening. It’s been barren for years.”
I’m absolutely gagging to christen Heath’s Christmas tree, but there is much more to this gathering than his dick.
He’s being surprisingly wary. I can read it behind his smile. The walls still up, ever so slightly.
“We didn’t just come here for your steely cock,” I say. “I mean, we love your dick and all, and can’t ever get enough of it, but that’s not the reason we’re here today, and you know it.”
“Jesus, Ells,” Josh says. “We’re barely through the door and you’re getting serious. At least finish up your glass of red before getting to the heart to heart.”
He’s laughing, but I’m not, because his walls are still up, too. Just a touch.
But mine aren’t.
I have no walls left to come down. They are already demolished and the broken bricks have been bulldozed away.
