“I have a super important question: What’s your favorite Christmas candle scent?”
“That’s a tough one.” Patrick weighed the pros and cons of a tart cranberry smell or the classic cedar scent, which filled his home with the smell of a Christmas tree.
Spencer seemed to enjoy watching him wrestle with this dilemma. As long as he found Patrick’s crazy entertaining...
“Are you ready for all this?” Patrick asked.
Spencer gave him a kiss that made him light up like the freaking Rockefeller Center tree. “Oh hell yeah.”
November
The Day After Thanksgiving
a.k.a. The First Day of the Christmas Season
12
Spencer
Spencer felt lied to. Betrayed. His world turned upside down in ways he couldn’t have imagined. Did he even know the person standing in front of him?
“You use a fake tree?”
He stood over the box he just opened in the middle of Patrick’s apartment, unable to process the sight of fake evergreen limbs stuffed inside cardboard.
“What?” Patrick asked a few boxes over, unwrapping Christmas-themed trinkets.
“You, Mr. Holiday Hard-On, do not put up a real Christmas tree?”
“They’re too messy, and I never remember to water them.” Patrick waved off his outrage. It felt like a shocking disregard for his rigid holiday rules. “If I got a real tree, who would’ve had to help me schlepp it up three flights of stairs.”
“As your boyfriend, I would have done so proudly.”
“Where’s your tree, Spencer?” Patrick pointed a snowglobe at him accusingly.
Spencer see-sawed his head. “I have a little one that sits on the kitchen table.”
Patrick seized victory. He searched his apartment for rapidly dwindling counter space where he could position the snowglobe. Nearly every flat surface in the apartment was taken up with candles and Christmas paraphernalia. It would make it difficult for Spencer to take Patrick anywhere in the apartment like their first time. They’d just have to stick to the bed and couch like normal people.
“What do you think? Too cluttered?” Patrick asked of the arrangement of decor on the TV stand.
Was he looking at a TV stand or a shelf at Home Goods? Spencer could not tell.
“It looks perfect,” he said. It was a Christmas clutter, but a warm, homey one, and it made Patrick shine with excitement. Patrick was in his holiday element, and Spencer could watch him all day and night.
Each day of November had been better than the last. Being Patrick’s boyfriend was like a life filled only with holidays. They held hands on the walks to the El in the morning. Spencer still counted down the hours until he could see Patrick after work, only this time, he greeted him at the State/Lake El stop with a big, fat kiss. At night, they ordered takeout or cooked meals together. Patrick put together a Pinterest board of fall- and holiday-inspired meals to cook, like butternut squash soup and sourdough stuffing. Fortunately, winter volleyball had started up mid-month, which helped Spencer keep the holiday bloat at bay. (“Why is it called Winter Volleyball when it starts in November?” Patrick had asked.)
They traded off sleeping at each other’s apartments. He fell asleep with Patrick in his arms every night and woke up beside him every morning. His heart was full. Spencer did not know he could love mushiness as much as this. It didn’t feel mushy, though. They were building a strong foundation of a relationship that he believed could get them through anything life threw their way. It wasn’t mushy. It was rock solid.
And Patrick bent over a box made him rock hard.
“Hey Patrick, do they make Christmas lube?”
“You never know. You can find anything online.” Patrick wiggled his butt, taunting him. He pulled out two Christmas throw pillows that had matching red pickup trucks with Christmas trees hanging out the back.
Speaking of Christmas trees, they still had two boxes labeled ornaments. He pictured making love to Patrick on his living room rug that night, their sweaty bodies aglow from the lights of the tree and the candles lit around them, of which there would be plenty. His cock pressed impatiently against his fly.
Patrick remained bent over his boxes, his bubble butt sticking up in the air.
