Tomas instead.
Jackson’s feelings for Nick were so far in the past, it felt wrong fantasising about him now, almost as if he was thinking about his brother. He pulled his hand out of his boxers and rolled onto his side, hands tucked safely under his pillow where they couldn’t touch his dick.
But Nick isn’t your brother. A treacherous little voice argued, trying to give him permission.
Jackson pressed his face into the pillow and groaned. If he was going to get through Christmas without making things awkward, he was going to need to get better at training his brain—and his body—to behave.
He’d realised long ago that he wasn’t Nick’s type. He was too nice. Nick was attracted to narcissistic wankers, and watching the pattern repeat over and over had been almost too much to bear. When things inevitably went to shit, Jackson was always there to pick up the pieces of Nick’s broken heart. Thank fuck it had finally stopped a couple of years ago when Nick had started having counselling. Since then, he’d remained single—and celibate—and seemed happier for it.
“Are you okay?” Jackson glanced at Nick.
“Yes!” Nick frowned at the road ahead and tightened his grip on the wheel. “Well, actually no. I’m not, but I can deal with it. And you asking me every ten minutes isn’t helping matters.”
“Right.” Jackson clenched his hands into fists, trying to resist the urge to snap back.
Nick wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Jackson wasn’t looking forward to the impending introductions either, but he didn’t think bringing that up would help. “I’ll try and stop asking.”
At least he’d finally got an honest answer. Nick had been wound tight all day, stressing out over packing and worrying about what time to leave. Then he’d insisted on driving even though Jackson had offered. The traffic had been predictably awful getting out of London with hordes of Christmas Eve travellers on their way out of the capital, and Nick had spent most of the three-hour trip yelling at other road users.
Nick sighed. “Sorry, mate. I’m just… well, you know. My head’s all over the place. But I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” He flashed Jackson a sheepish smile.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t. But I’ll let you off.”
“We’re nearly there now. We come off at the next junction and then it’s not far. I’ll probably feel better once we’ve got the first meeting over with.”
They were deliberately arriving late in the day so they’d be the last of the family to arrive. Nick was trying to minimise the time he had to spend with his parents.
“So… um. How are we going to play this whole pretending to be partners thing?” Jackson asked. “Do we actually need to do anything much different to normal? I’m guessing not really, apart from sharing a room of course….”
“Oh, I definitely want to be obvious about it!” Nick said. “My father made me feel shitty about my sexuality from the moment I realised I was different. I internalised so much homophobic crap from him because of comments he’d make about stuff on TV or in the news. He stopped that after I came out, but it was too late. I knew what he thought already. So, I want to flaunt my sexuality now. I want to show him that I’m not ashamed of who I am.”
“Okaaaaay.” What on earth had Jackson let himself in for? “What sort of thing did you have in mind?”
Nick must have heard the trepidation in his tone because he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on grabbing your dick in front of him or anything. I’m just talking casual touches, hand holding, putting an arm around you on the sofa, maybe a kiss on the cheek here and there—and a snog under the mistletoe, of course.”
Jackson managed a nervous laugh in response. “Oh right. Yeah. Course.” His brain was still unhelpfully locked onto the idea of Nick grabbing his dick.
“Come on, surely snogging me isn’t that terrible a prospect? I’ve been told I’m a great kisser, and I have good oral hygiene.”
“I’m sure I’ll cope.” Jackson managed to keep his tone light, but his heart was thumping hard.
Twenty minutes later it was beating even faster as Nick turned off a narrow country lane onto a track lined with tall evergreen hedges, saying, “Here we are.”
The track opened out onto a gravel drive in front of a building that looked as if it might once have been a farmhouse. The winter afternoon sunshine lent extra warmth to