“I’m happy to let you two take care of feeding us,” Emory says.
I kiss him next. “I bet you are.” My second gift, which is from Casey, is a selection of spices in test tubes. “I am going to love experimenting with these.”
Emory snort-laughs. “Experimenting. Test tubes. I get it. That’s a very nerdy joke.” He kisses Casey.
I turn my attention to their gifts. I already know what I got them: a Tetris lamp for Emory and a pair of Speedos for Casey.
He laughs as he holds them up. “Electric blue?”
“Yup. Your arse will look amazing in that colour.”
“Not just your arse,” Emory mumbles.
Casey rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I love them, thanks. I can never have too many pairs of swimming trunks.” He kisses me.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Emory asks as he opens his Tetris lamp. “This is so cool! Oh my god, you can stack the blocks however you want them. Thank you.” He flings one arm around my neck and snogs me.
Casey’s gift from Emory is a fluffy, oversized hoodie that looks perfect for snuggling in.
“I thought it might be good for after swimming in winter or for snuggling in if we’re not around,” Emory says.
“It’s amazing.” Casey hugs him, and then they lose themselves in kissing for a moment.
It’s hot to watch them. I never thought watching two guys kiss with closed mouths would turn me on, but these two do.
Emory’s gift from Casey is a custom Funko Pop that looks like Emory. He blushes as he stares at it, turning it this way and that.
“Aw, it’s even blushing. And its eyes are the perfect shade of blue,” I say.
“Like a clear, tropical sea,” Casey says in a dreamy voice.
“Our boyfriend has the sexiest eyes imaginable. We’ll have to get two more of these. Then we’ll have a set,” I say.
“I figured I’d get you one for your birthday.”
I lean over to kiss Casey. “Then I’ll get you one for yours.”
“You two are being so cute right now,” Emory says.
“Cute? I’m not cute. You’re cute.” I wriggle my fingers and then tickle him until he’s howling with laughter.
I stop tickling him, and the three of us flop onto the bed beside each other, our legs dangling off the long side.
“Happy Christmas,” Casey says, holding my hand and skimming his fingers over Emory’s cheek. “I wish you could stay tonight.”
“Me too. Would your parents approve?”
Casey shrugs. “We can ask.”
“You realise we’re all being a bit clingy, don’t you?”
“Do you mind?” Emory asks.
I grin and sigh a happy sigh. “Nope. Not one bit.”
* * *
On Boxing Day, Patrick and Jean invite Casey and his parents over for a buffet. The first thing Casey’s parents do when they arrive is hug me, even though they saw me for breakfast. Emory and I left shortly after to spend the morning with the twins and help Patrick and Jean prepare the buffet. I’m struggling to get over how welcoming both sets of parents are and how easily they’ve accepted me as part of their sons’ lives.
