22. Dean

Dean

Christmas is always a little bittersweet, because I love the holiday so much, and I kind of hate to see it end. This year, though, I have so much to look forward to. I wake up to Christmas snuggles from Art, which quickly leads to Christmas morning sex, and I have zero complaint about that.

Over a lazy breakfast, we open our gifts. Art wanted definite parameters for gift giving, so we agreed on two gifts—one less expensive item and one more extravagant item. In true Art fashion, monetary ranges were also included. It actually made the process of choosing gifts less stressful, because I knew I wasn't going overboard or not buying enough. We both make good money at the lab, and we agreed it would be fun to treat each other to something special.

We take turns, and he opens my smaller gift first. It's the hand-blown glass ornament he was admiring at the craft fair.

"Dean Miller, you remembered!" He holds the ornament reverently, twisting and turning it around to see all the colors within its shape. "I shall cherish it all year, because it reminds me of the ocean."

He is smiling broadly as he hands me my gift, which is in a huge bag. I kind of wonder if it's some kind of gift basket. Art is cradling his ornament and watching me excitedly.

I peel back the bag to see a beautiful green plant inside. It's in a beige pot, and I gingerly lift it out. The leaves are deep green, round, and have a lighter green fleck slightly off center. Some of them look like they're almost curled in a tiny bit, and I'm kind of reminded of Art's suckers.

"Art! It's beautiful! What kind of plant is it?" I ask. I love that Art got me a plant after I admired his, and I'm sure the plant has some kind of meaning.

"It is a pilea peperomioides, also known as a Chinese money plant. Superstition says that it brings the owner good luck and wealth, but more importantly, it is excellent at air purification and humidity regulation. Plants are also shown to reduce stress, and the pilea peperomioides is also non-toxic and relatively low maintenance, although I will be happy to help you take care of the plant." Art smiles as he says the last part.

"I love it! And I love the superstition behind it too—I like that sort of thing, and I'm happy you got me a money plant," I add.

"The name most likely comes from the fact that the leaves look like coins, and it does actually propagate quite easily. Small plants called ‘pups' grow in the soil around the parent plant, and they can be replanted. So in giving you one plant, I have given you many plants," Art adds, gently resting a tentacle against my thigh.

I lean in and kiss him. I love that he shared something he loved with me, and it's kind of cool that I can have a bunch of baby money plants in my apartment.

"Now for the big gifts! You have to open mine," I say, super excited. "Although it really benefits both of us," I add.

Art cradles the ornament in one tentacle and takes the gift bag I give him. "Dean, this was supposed to be an extravagant gift. This is a very small gift bag."

"Hey, size isn't what counts," I laugh, and I swear Art even rolls his eyes at that comment, which only makes me laugh harder. He opens the bag and gasps when he sees the plane tickets and the hotel reservation form.

"We said we'd take a trip in January, so here it is! I can't wait to go away with you and enjoy warm weather and the ocean," I gush. I cleared the date with Art's parents and work—we'll only take off the Friday for a long weekend, so we won't miss much work.

Art is speechless, and he leans over and wraps me up in his tentacles and arms, kissing me. When we finally come up for air, I'm grinning from ear to ear. Seeing Art's reaction is awesome, and I'm so glad he likes my gifts.

"Your turn, Dean Miller," Art insists, getting up to grab a huge wrapped box to place in front of me.

I wiggle my eyebrows at him. "Maybe size does matter—you certainly never fall short in that department."

He laughs and wraps a tentacle around my neck. If we didn't have to get ready to go to my parents for Christmas day, I'd be ready for round two with Art, but that will have to wait until later tonight.

I unwrap the box, and inside is a state of the art breadmaker I'd actually been eyeing in the store the other day. It is an extravagant gift, and I never would have spent that much on myself. I turn to Art and smile. "You saw me admiring this! Art, I love it! I'm so excited! It has all these settings for artisan bread and adding mixtures into dough…" I trail off as I pull it out of the box and start flipping through the manual.

"Yes, this is a ‘fun' gift, so I will not mention the health risks of high carbohydrate consumption in humans. Also, store bought bread has unhealthy preservatives, so this would be a healthier choice than that, and you do enjoy bringing sandwiches for lunch."

I can't help the grin on my face. I launch myself at Art, hugging him. "I love it, and I love that you chose gifts that will keep me healthy, too."

"I care about your well-being as my mate, so of course I would think of your health. Your gifts also please me greatly. The beauty of the ornament will reduce my stress levels, and the vacation will be beneficial for our mental and physical well-being. I am very excited to go away with you, Dean," Art says, and we end up cuddling and making out before we need to get ready to go to my parents' house.

Christmas at my parents' house will be amazing this year. My family is coming, and not only did my mom invite Art, but she also invited Art's parents and cousin, Lisa, since her parents are away for the holidays.

We're the first to get there, and Art insists on ringing the doorbell, even though I would've just walked in. I remember the formality of meeting the parents for cephalopods, so we stand patiently on the front stoop until my mom opens the door.

"Merry Christmas!" she shouts, and then she drags me into a hug.

The minute she lets me go, she pulls Art into a hug. He looks slightly panicked, and I can tell his tentacles have no idea what to do. This is definitely not the formality he's used to with meeting parents.

"Dean! Art!" my dad yells from the other room, and then my mom is pulling us into the house, and my dad is taking a turn at hugging us.

"Mom, Dad—this is Art. Art, these are my parents," I say once my dad has let us go.

"Uh, Merry Christmas," Art responds. "How shall I address you?"

"Oh, Mom and Dad work just fine," my mom says, and she either doesn't notice Art's appalled look or she simply chooses to ignore it.

I'm betting on the latter. My mom is determined to make everyone love her, and she's usually successful.

She loops an arm through one of Art's tentacles and walks him toward the kitchen, asking questions about seafood, since she knows that's what Art likes. When Art starts discussing the health benefits of wild-caught versus farm-raised, she nods along and makes interested noises, occasionally asking questions.

"They'll be best friends in a matter of hours," my dad comments, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

I laugh. "More like a matter of minutes."

The doorbell rings again, and the process of hugs and holiday greetings starts all over again and continues in quick succession as everyone arrives. I think Art must have texted his parents and his cousin about the hugs, because when his parents arrive they jump right into hugging everyone, and they're only slightly awkward.

Lisa, on the other hand, firmly puts out her hand for a handshake before anyone can hug her. It almost flusters my mother, but she recovers. Once she finds out Lisa travels and plays chess, they end up chatting about different countries and cultures.

I think my mother even wins over Lisa, and I wouldn't be totally shocked if she gets a hug at the end of the night. (Only slightly shocked.)

The food is ready after everyone arrives, and we all sit down to a Christmas feast. We gorge ourselves on our traditional Christmas food—turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, green beans, candied sweet potatoes—but there's also a selection of seafood for Art's family, and everyone eats until they're groaning. We drink hot apple cider and mulled wine and eggnog, and Art's family even takes part in the fun little secret Santa gift exchange my family does.

For the gift exchange we choose numbers and then can take gifts from other people, and it actually gets quite cutthroat. Lisa's competitive nature comes into play, and I can tell she enjoys the entire thing. There's a monetary limit on the gift exchange, and for his secret Santa Art brought a different type of plant from the one he gave me. It's actually one of the most fought over gifts, with everyone stealing it from everyone else until eventually my Uncle Owen ends up with it, smiling and laughing.

Art and I snuggle up on the couch, watching the holiday chaos after the gift exchange is over. My father is setting out desserts while having an intense discussion with Art's mom. They seem to be talking about stocks and retirement plans, and they both look totally enthusiastic.

Art's dad is questioning my mom about the fruit cake. "But if it's hard as a rock and disgusting, why do you buy it for dessert?"

My mom laughs and tries to explain the tradition of fruit cake, but Art's dad does not look convinced.

Lisa is sitting at a table with Uncle Owen playing a game of checkers. They're both glaring at each other between moves, and Uncle Owen occasionally takes a sip of whiskey before glaring again.

"Should we go and intervene with your uncle? Lisa has been known to make her opponents cry," Art murmurs to me.

I just chuckle. "Uncle Owen is up to the challenge. He was a drill sergeant."

Lisa beats him, and Uncle Owen downs his whiskey before telling her, "You are a formidable opponent with a strategic mind. I like that."

They end up talking about other strategic games while we all get up to grab dessert. My mom even added crab rangoon to the desserts this year, thinking Art's family might like it. Sure enough, it's one of the first desserts to go.

While Art is talking to my mom, my dad sidles up next to me. He puts his arm around my shoulder. "We're so happy for you, Dean. Art is wonderful, and so is his family. His mother and I had such a good chat. His cousin is a little intense, but we've got Uncle Owen, so we can't complain," he chuckles.

I chuckle along with him, looking at Uncle Owen and Lisa debating whether Chinese checkers or backgammon requires more skill.

"We'll have to do a dinner with just us soon. We definitely want to get to know your partner better." My dad smiles as he says it, and I'm so glad that my parents have always supported me.

I put my arm around him, giving him a hug. "Thanks, Dad."

As we look out over the Christmas chaos of the two families gathered together, I'm so thankful that Art is part of my life. I've always loved Christmas, but having him to share the holiday with has made it that much more wonderful.