“You’re not fine.”
“It's just I wanted us to have a—” A sob wracked his body—“…Christmas tradition,” he wailed.
Dimitri spun him around in his arms, eyes wide. Arlo didn’t have a chance to say anything before he was swallowed in his embrace. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Please. I get it. I’m an idiot. We can have a Christmas tradition. We can do whatever you want. Just…please don’t cry.”
“I’m not trying to guilt you into this,” he sobbed.
“You’re not guilting me. I’m just…a dumbass. Ask my mom. Hell, ask literally anyone. You know I suck at these things. Please, don’t cry. Please.” He pulled back enough to frantically wipe at the tears on Arlo’s face. “If my mom finds out I made you cry she’s gonna kill me.”
Dimitri’s rambling distracted him enough to get a handle on his emotions, giving a couple of wet sniffles. “I’m-I’m fine. It’s fine. Let’s just get pizza.”
Dimitri shook his head. “No.”
“No?” Arlo parroted, lip quivering.
Now he didn’t even want pizza?
“No. We’re gonna drink hot chocolate and watch your gay little Christmas movie. Okay?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Arlo said, shaking his head. “The only thing worse than not having a tradition is forcing you to participate in one.”
“Baby, look at me.” Arlo forced his gaze upward, heart skipping at the way Dimitri looked back. “I will happily sharpen candy canes into tiny little shives and let you jab them into both of my eye sockets while I sing Christmas carols if it makes you stop crying. You know I can’t stand to see you cry. I want all the traditions with you. I promise. Please don’t cry.”
Arlo blinked at him while his brain tried to process what he’d just said. Once his words sunk in, he couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted. It was such a sweetly psychotic thing to say. Very Dimitri.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “I love your eyes.”
“Well then let me have this, okay? You go take a shower. I’m gonna figure out food and then we can watch anything you want. Gay dudes boning in the woods, some rich girl with Stockholm syndrome selling her chocolate factory to her father’s arch nemesis or whatever. Anything you want. Okay?”
Arlo shook his head. “You’re crazy.”
“Takes one to know one,” he said, pushing Arlo towards the bedroom. “There’s not a single member of our friend group who doesn't need a good grippy sock vacation, but none of us have time.” Arlo snorted, but allowed Dimitri to keep shuffling him out of the living area. “Go, take ashower, get comfy, put on something of mine—preferably something slutty—like my old jersey—” He wiggled his brows— “and nothing else.”
“Fine,” Arlo finally said.
Dimitri grinned, pointing towards the kitchen. “While you’re gone, I’m gonna rehome Venom over there.”
Arlo slapped his arm, then headed to the bedroom.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood under the spray but it was starting to turn lukewarm by the time he stepped out. He dried himself off, then combed fingers through his towel dried hair, before finding Dimitri’s jersey—the same blue and white as their Christmas tree—and slipping it over his head. It was huge on him, falling to just past mid-thigh. He slipped on a pair of white boxer briefs. He knew better than to trust Dimitri to behave himself with no barriers between them.
When he wandered back to the main room, he found Dimitri sitting on the sofa. He’d changed out of his street clothes. He wore his red and black flannel pajama pants and a sleeveless black t-shirt emblazoned with his frat’s Greek letters. A Santa hat emblazoned with the word NICE sat slightly askew on his fluffy dark hair.
No man should look that hot in a Santa hat. Arlo was already regretting not taking the offer to just go fuck it out in bed. They weren’t fighting and even if they were, sex didn’t solve anything. But since meeting Dimitri a few good orgasms did tend to lend a little perspective.
Arlo’s heart squeezed when he noted his fiancé had also forced Java and Beans to participate. They wore the silly hats Arlo had gotten them at the pet store last week. Beans worea hat with elf ears attached to a hood that covered his head leaving only his face visible, while Java wore a green and white knit cap with flaps that covered her ears and tied under her chin. She looked embarrassed. Beans looked homicidal.
Dimitri jumped up as soon as he spotted Arlo, grabbing his hand and pulling him to him. He reached behind the sofa and brandished a hat that matched his, only this one said NAUGHTY on the front.
Arlo let him place the hat on his head but he narrowed his eyes at him. “I think you may have given me the wrong hat.”
“Uh-uh. I think if Santa knew exactly what you get up to when we go to bed at night he would see just how naughty you can be. Dirty baby.”
Arlo stuck his tongue out. Dimitri caught it between his thumb and forefinger, giving Arlo a look that made his underwear feel tight. When he let go, Arlo shivered, then mumbled, “Perv.”
Dimitri laughed, flopping back onto the sofa and dragging Arlo down into his lap, snagging the remote. “Pizza will be here in an hour. I already found your gay little Christmas movie, see?”
Arlo was so distracted by his gorgeous man that he hadn’t noticed the two cups sitting on the coffee table until they finally settled. “What’s that?”
