Lucas sighed. “Fine, but I do have one request?”
“And what’s that?” August asked, studying him intently.
“Kiss?” Lucas asked, waiting for August to initiate it.
August complied, capturing Lucas’s bottom lip between his. Lucas sighed into it, reveling in the warmth of his mouth and the steady pressure of his body crushing him into the sofa. The crackle of the fire and the muted roar of the storm outside made the whole moment feel cocooned, suspended, just the two of them.
“I missed this,” he said against his lips.
“Kissing?” August teased when he pulled away. “Have I been neglecting you?”
Lucas smiled. “Neglecting? Never. But I do miss when weused to make out on the sofa in your office.”
“We did that a week ago,” August said.
“It’s not the same… we have kids and responsibilities in the outside world. In the office nobody else exists.”
His voice softened, wistful, longing not for sex exactly, but for that rare pocket of uninterrupted ease they used to take for granted. Lucas knew he was making no sense. What he was feeling was hard to explain. It was a weird nostalgia that he always got this time of year.
“Well, here we are, all alone, in the privacy of our own home, on our sofa…”
August kissed him again, slow and lazy, exploring as Lucas let himself get caught up in the scent of spicy cologne and Christmas, the taste of hot chocolate still clinging to August’s tongue. Outside was a mess, but inside was blissfully cozy and quiet, only the sound of their mouths moving together and the tiny sounds one would make whenever the other did something they liked. The storm outside vanished; the world shrank to breath and warmth and the soft drag of lips against lips.
August shifted slightly, his hands sliding under Lucas’s sweater to rub warm circles over his ribs. Lucas arched into the touch with a soft hum, fingers finding the curls at the nape of August’s neck and giving a gentle tug that made August smile against his mouth. His husband always reacted to that, always melted, always leaned in closer like Lucas was the gravity pulling him down.
“You know,” August murmured, kissing the corner of his jaw, “I have a gift you can open right now.”
Lucas laughed quietly, breath hitching when August’s lips brushed his throat. “But it’s not even Christmas yet, Santa. What will the elves say?” he said, letting his hands slide down to August’s ass, bending his own leg to hook over his hip.
“Probably something like ‘Santa, that’s not Mrs. Claus,’” August said in a ridiculously high voice that would have sent the kids into a fit of laughter.
Lucas chuckled softly until August kissed him again, deeper this time, their mouths fitting together with practiced ease born of years and still somehow new every time. Lucas’s hands roamed under August’s shirt, brushing warm skin, drawing out a low sound that vibrated pleasantly against his lips. His fingertips skimmed the defined lines of August’s waist, relearning the familiar map of him, loving the way August shivered the moment nails scraped lightly across his spine.
“You’re so unbelievably sexy,” Lucas whispered, a little breathless.
August rested their foreheads together, smiling softly. “Good. I want you to remember that when we walk into Dad’s later and he makes us all wear those ridiculous candy-cane pajamas.”
Lucas snorted, pulling him back into another kiss, slow and teasing, the kind that said they had all the time in the world, even if they didn’t. He canted his hips up, grinding his cock against August’s, pleasure zipping through him like lightning. He did it again, dragging a groan from August, who rocked his hips against him.
Heat pooled low and heavy, every gentle thrust a slowburn that made Lucas’s toes curl inside his socks.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” August asked. “Do you want me to just dry hump you on the couch like a teenager?”
“Mm,” Lucas said, licking his way back into August’s mouth, stopping just long enough to clarify. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
August’s answering growl vibrated against his tongue, and suddenly his hands were everywhere—palming Lucas’s hips, rolling them deeper into the friction, tugging him closer like he wanted to fuse them through sheer will. Lucas’s sweater rode up, exposing warm skin to cool air, and August’s palms settled there like a brand.
Lucas let himself get lost in the jolting heat spiking through him, hips rising to meet his husband’s as they got lost in the heat of it. August bit along Lucas’s throat, pulling down the collar of his sweatshirt to suck a mark just below his collarbone. Lucas moaned, a low, needy sound he only ever made for August, tilting his head to give him more, feeling every deliberate press of lips and tongue like sparks beneath his skin.
August’s teeth grazed delicately over a spot that made Lucas gasp just a little too loudly. August chuckled, low and smug, kissing the spot again like he was claiming it.
They were just getting to the best part—August’s hand reaching for Lucas’s waistband—when Lucas’s phone started buzzing between the cushions.
They both groaned, fumbling to find the small phone buried somewhere in the couch. The cushions shifted under them, still warm from where they’d been tangledtogether, a stark contrast to the icy wind screaming against the windows. August’s thigh was still pressed between Lucas’s, heat fading slowly as reality intruded. Lucas made a triumphant noise as his hand closed around it. He fully expected it to be Allister begging them to come early, but instead it was Cricket’s face.
He pushed on August until he relented, letting him sit up, then swiped to answer. “Hey, Mama. What’s up? How’s the female faction of the family?”
“So—” Cricket started.
