Christmas Tales - Brandon Witt Page 0,45

was getting ready to tell. “Christmas always just kinda sucked. I wasn’t ever the boy my dad hoped for. I wanted the same stuff as my sister. I asked for dolls or coloring books.” I snorted. “Or even worse, I asked for geeky shit. Vampires, unicorns, comic books. But not the cool kind of comic books. I think Dad had some hope that I’d grow out of wanting the girly shit, that I was just mimicking my sister or whatever. The geeky stuff was more of an indication of who I was, who I was going to turn into. So instead of getting the stuff I wanted, my folks gave me footballs, baseball bats, you know. Crap like that.” I realized how that sounded and tried to rush ahead. “Not that I hate Christmas because I didn’t get the presents I wanted. It was more that my dad just….” My throat constricted.

“Didn’t think you were good enough.” James’s voice was soft.

I lifted my eyes to meet his and saw understanding instead of pity. “Yeah. That.” I looked away again, too exposed, and cleared my throat. “Later on, Christmas just got lonely. Which, in a lot of ways, was preferable to how it used to be.”

James waited until I got myself back together and finally took a bite of the burger, which instantly helped.

He had that hesitant, nervous sound in his voice that seemed so strange on him. “Maybe this is silly, and I’m sure it’s too soon, but we’re in our forties and fifties. We don’t have to play by the same stupid rules the kids play by, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I’d like to come over Christmas night and be with you.” He held up his hands to cut off my response. “I won’t get in the way, but I’d really like to see how you film your show. And I haven’t had Chinese delivery in ages.”

I was torn between laughing and full-on panic. My response was closer to the panic route. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine. And honestly the lonely Christmases were years ago. I’m good now.” I did want to be James’s man; at least I thought I did. But I didn’t want to get there because he felt sorry for me.

“Brian, you misunderstand me.” He waited until I met his gaze again. “I want to come over. My daughter and her family will go visit her in-laws midafternoon. I’ll be the one who’s lonely. And I really do want to see you film with Spike and Angel.”

He seemed afraid I’d say no. How strange. “You actually think that sounds like fun? To play with hamsters?”

Another of his beautiful laughs, this one more tender than the rest. “Yeah, I do. If it’s with you.”

Five

I had to hand it to him. Bathhouse Santa knew his crowd. He wore the Santa hat with a bell on the end as he did every Christmas. I heard that damn bell ringing nearly my entire shift. Blowjobs from Santa, just in case he didn’t bring you what you really wanted. I was going to miss him until next year, kinda.

Next year…. I couldn’t help but fantasize about the possibility of being with James’s family next Christmas morning instead of at the bathhouse. A huge part of that sounded more scary than anything else. At the bathhouse it was my space, controlled, no expectation. Not to mention safety glass. But there with James’s daughter and grandkids. His ex-wife. His best friend. And me, the guy from the bathhouse who filmed his vampire hamsters. No way I’d fit into that.

But maybe.

Talk about cart before horses. Or a sleigh before reindeer.

Oh my God. I must have gotten a virus. I was sick. I was altering colloquialisms to have Christmas themes. It was enough to tempt me to go see exactly what Bathhouse Santa was doing.

By the time Philip showed up to take over, I was a sweaty mess. A second date with James. A third time getting naked with him. And on Christmas. Of all things.

As I walked out the door of the bathhouse, Philip leaned down to the crack in the safety glass. “I’m so jealous you’re gonna have really great Christmas sex with a fucking hot daddy bear! Merry Christmas, dahling.”

“Merry Christmas, Philip.”

I was out of the building and nearly to my car when my phone vibrated. I pulled it out of my pocket, expecting it to be a text from James, cancelling or something.

It was