Over the years, many of his cousins and in-laws had reached out, offering support for Dean and expressing their outrage over his parents actions. Dean was appreciative and stayed in contact with that part of his family, but despite the many invitations, there was no way he would ever attend another Harris family holiday dinner in rural Georgia. There was no way he would ever subject himself to the torture of standing in front of his asshole parents ever again.
They never attempted to contact him after he left, after they threw him out. And if they showed up today, on their knees, begging for forgiveness…Dean honestly didn’t think he could grant them that.
Still, he had his cherished childhood holiday memories and he was determined to share those memories with Aiden, his dancers, and Colton.
Dean brought a tray of cooled sugar cookies to the island, along with little cups of icing in various colors, and placed them in front of Aiden.
“One of my favorite memories as a kid was decorating Christmas cookies with my grandma. I want to share that memory with you and you can decorate these any way you want.” Dean placed some toothpicks and a tiny offset spatula on the counter, and Aiden began to paint.
Colton watched Aiden while he sipped his cider and Dean moved to his side, kissed the top of his head, and sat on the stool next to him. Without thinking, Dean took Colton’s hand, interlacing their fingers while they watched Aiden decorate his cookies.
Colton smiled, looked down at their hands, then back up to Dean, and gently squeezed his hand.
“What?” Dean asked, pulling his attention from Aiden.
Colton glanced down. “This is the first time we’ve ever held hands.”
“Oh…sorry…is it too much? I didn’t even realize I’d done it,” Dean said sheepishly.
Colton sighed. “No, it’s not too much. In fact, it’s not enough. I want to stay here and spend Christmas with you two.”
“Oh, I wish you could! That would make me so happy. But I know you can’t.”
“Maybe we can FaceTime on Christmas morning?”
“I would love that. But you’ve got to stick around tonight, at least until Aiden goes to bed. I’ve got a special gift for you,” Dean whispered, squeezing his hand.
“You do realize I can hear you two, right?” Aiden smiled, still decorating his cookies.
Colton howled in laughter. “Aiden, you’re going to fit in just fine around here!”
The pile of presents under the tree had doubled in size by the time Christmas morning arrived, and Dean couldn't wait for Aiden to see it. He bounded out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn and put on his "Santa loves his Ho's" sweater again —Christmas only happened once a year, so it was totally acceptable— too excited to see Aiden flip his shit to stay in bed a moment longer.
He wanted to burst into Aiden’s room and drag him out of bed so he could open his gifts. He decided to let Aiden wake onhis own and started a pot of coffee instead as he gathered the ingredients he'd need to begin prepping for the huge meal he’d planned for Aiden and the dancers.
As he hummed and chopped vegetables, his mind returned to his grandma and that old country kitchen in Georgia. God, he missed her! Her kitchen always smelled of coffee, baked sourdough bread, and deep-fried foods. He could still smell the aromas that had always seemed synonymous with her kitchen.
After she passed, he was given her recipe box. She kept everything on handwritten index cards, in a little wooden box that sat on the sill above her sink. That little box now sat proudly on Deans countertop next to his sink. He stirred the sauce he was preparing, doing his best to recreate his grandmother's recipe.
Dean’s reflection was interrupted when he heard Aiden stirring in his room. He smiled a huge smile as he set the mixing spoon aside and rinsed his hands,morethan excited to start Christmas!
Aiden galloped out of the guest room and slammed into Dean. “Merry Christmas Dean!”
Dean laughed and squeezed him tight. “Merry, merry Christmas Aiden!” He kissed Aiden’s temple, filled with joy, doing his level best not to cry. “Are you ready to open your gifts?”
“Yes!” Aiden jumped out of the hug and dashed to the tree as Dean chuckled, grabbing his coffee and following behind him. Aiden had never talked about what happened with his family, how he ended up homeless at fourteen and Dean never pushed, confident that Aiden would tell him about it when he was ready. But moving forward, Dean would do everything in his power to ensure Aiden had nothing but happy memories.
Aiden gleefully tore through the wrapping of his gifts, revealing new clothes, shoes, toys, sports gear, musical instruments, a new iPhone, and a new gaming system. With awide smile and bright eyes, he gave Dean a monster hug. “Thank you so much, Dean.”
Dean squeezed him tight. “You’re very welcome, Aiden. I love you very much.”
Dean noticed Aiden’s smile disappear, a hint of sadness crossing his face, and lifted his chin with his finger,
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Aiden looked back at the pile of gifts at the tree, then to Dean. “I love my gifts, but I can’t take them back home. Things like these don't last long at the shelter,” he said, his lower lip trembling as he fought the tears welling in his eyes.
Dean sighed. “Well, I figured as much, so I thought you could keep everything here, that way you could come and play as often as you’d like.”
