James hesitated.Long enough that his gaze drifted downward.“I guess that’s a damn good question,” he said at last.“It’s just what I do.I love Christmas.All the traditions, all the decorations, all the people I know and love even if they do have limited imaginations.”He shrugged, jostling Cillian’s arm slightly.“Not going would be too strange to contemplate.”
“You have clearly not had enough to drink if you can use words like ‘contemplate’ in a sentence right now,” Cillian informed him.He held up his free hand.“Keep dancing.Let me think about this.”
Curious enough to do as he’d been told, James watched notions and questions dance across Cillian’s features.Didn’t take nearly as long as it had with him before Cillian gave a decided nod.“Let’s say the airline doesn’t come through and cough up your round trip ticket before the holiday’s over.”
Which seemed more than likely, all things considered, even if James didn’t enjoy contemplating the possibility.He gestured for Cillian to go on.
“That will make you sad,” Cillian said, “And that won’t do, not at all.So why not make Christmas happen by ourselves?”
“You mean like Debbie did Dallas?I thought you weren’t bringing any of the club boys home.”
Cillian tweaked James’ ear.“I’m not.Ourselves, I said.You and me.You and I.Which one’s right?I can never remember, but never mind.We’re grown-ass adults, James.We can handle one little holiday without breaking too much of a sweat.”
The plan started to filter through James’ cocktail haze.He tilted his head to the side.“Gifts, tree, dinner, the works?All of it?”
“How hard can it be?Worst come to worst, we’ll wear bathrobes and toss some hay on the ground and say we’re going for the authentic, rustic aesthetic.”
James had to laugh.“You are ridiculous.”
“Ah, but am I wrong?Come on.”Cillian caught James by the forearms and pulled them down, taking his hands again.“It’ll be fun.You need morefunin your life.”
I needyouin my life, James thought unbidden, but he didn’t correct Cillian, not even in his own head.Because it’s true.All I want for Christmas is you.
“I can see you coming over to the jingle side,” Cillian said.He squeezed James’ hands.“Say yes.You know you want to.”
Yep.Want to do all kinds of things to you, Christmas or not.James blinked, a little owlishly.Whatever had been in those drinks, he needed the recipe.But first… “Okay.”
Cillian frowned, then both eyebrows shot up.“Was that a yes?That was a yes.No take backs.”
“I’ll call the airline and ask them to give me a New Year’s ticket in exchange for their fuckup.”James shrugged.“It’s worth a shot.”
“Now that’s my boy!”Cillian seized James, one palm at his cheek and one on his shoulder, and came in close, as if to knock their foreheads companionably together.
Maybe there was a little bit of Christmas magic in the air.Maybe it was a shift in fluid dynamics, and physics were to blame.Or maybe they were jostled just right by the other dancers.But however it happened, if it was Cillian who stumbled forward or James, the stars aligned.James caught himself mostly by colliding body to body with Cillian, and…
Their lips touched.Slid lightly, mouth across mouth.Clung briefly, once, and then again.Somehow James’ fingers had gotten twined in Cillian’s curls, then knotted there, and somehow they were still kissing.
Until they weren’t, and were instead staring, startled, into one another’s eyes from an inch or so away.Cillian didn’t blink, and neither did James, though he knew he had to appear at least twice as dazed as Cillian did.He could have sagged in relief when Cillian’s grin broke out again, not quite as bright as usual but more than warm enough, and delighted to boot.
“I’d thought about putting an Elf on a shelf, but I like your approach better, my friend.”Cillian squeezed him around the shoulders.“Shall we?”
One hell of a drink, one hell of a kiss, and maybe the former was a bad influence on the latter, but -- see, it’d happened.They’d kissed, and James hadn’t gotten slapped, shoved, tackled, or rejected out of hand.He knew that dazed look in a man’s eye.That was the look that said there might be candy in the stocking this year, not coal.
If he dared dig a little deeper, that was.
And he did.He really did.James was the one to take Cillian’s hand this time, and tug him sideways, aiming for the edge of the crowd.
“Where are we headed?”
James grinned back over his shoulder.“To keep Christmas.Where else?Follow me.”
* * *
Lucky Lee’s Diner almost never closed its doors.Pandemics aside, they took 24/7 seriously, even when that had been reduced to curbside pickup.Point of pride, local landmark.No matter how tired, wasted, drunk, or full of bad ideas you might be, Lee’s couldn’t care less as long you paid your tab and didn’t cause permanent property damage.In appreciation of that attitude, the neighborhood it sat in took volunteer security dutyReally Damn Seriously.You could get a three-stack hamburger with enough mayo to drown in and if you tipped nicely, they paid the greatest compliment a restaurant could: no comments, and peace to eat or plot world domination at your own pace.So it was no wonder at all to James that he and Cillian ended up there.Half the local clubbers did, even on the cusp of Christmas Eve.
The peace found while waiting for a shared plate of triple-decker nachos and two beers to make an appearance gave James the time he needed to ponder one simple question:What if -- just if -- we’re on the same page here?Cillian and me.What if he’s genuinely into me, same way I’m into him?
That’d been one hell of a kiss, no matter what’d sparked it or how long it lasted, but that wasn’t the important part.Okay, not the most important part.Thathonor belonged to the fact that Cillian hadn’t broken it off by either laughing or socking James in the nose or jumping straight to “that was a bad, bad idea, let’s never do that again.”
