21. Cruz

"Sexy legs, B eleven," Tommy grins as he puts a marker on his card before tracking the number on the master sheet.

"New caller," Grandpa grumbles.

"Can we get through one game where you don't ask for a new caller?" Aunt Cheryl sighs heavily.

"Yeah, Gramps. Pick a better card next time," Tommy sniggers before calling again, "I-25. Road trip."

A few people groan while others let out a whoop, and Liam leans toward me to whisper, "Why is I-25 road trip?"

"Because Interstate 25 runs through the state," I answer.

"Yeah, but wouldn't O-66 be better for that? Like Route 66?"

I pause in the act of marking off my card. "Shit, I never thought of that. Hey Tommy?" I raise my voice so he can hear me across the table. "Why not O-66 for road trip? After Route 66, you know?"

My cousin is speechless just long enough to realize he doesn't have a good explanation, which doesn't stop him from giving one, as per usual.

"I've never driven on Route 66 but I hit I-25 all the time. And I make the names." Tommy shrugs defiantly.

"He really came up with all these?" Liam seems impressed, until I correct him.

"No. He went on a cruise with my aunt in high school, and he wasn't old enough to get into the adult bars, but he was too old for the kids' club. So, he played Bingo the whole time. That's where he learned most of these. He did make up a couple though."

"I-21. Social," Tommy calls as everyone clinks their glasses together, and I sneak a little wink in Liam's direction as I bring my glass to my lips.

He had a good laugh when I told him Christmas Eve was my favorite part of the holiday since we'd be playing Bingo, then spent the next half hour apologizing profusely when he realized I was serious.

I get it. Bingo sounds like something you do when you move into a retirement home, but the way we play it is awesome. Each time someone wins they get to steal a present from another person at the table, and after each of us has a chance to call the game we stop and open whichever package is sitting in front of us.

We're not exactly sure how long the tradition has been going on for. Grandpa remembers playing with his grandparents as a kid, so at least seventy years I would think, since you aren't allowed to join until you're ten, and he's pushing eighty.

I remember thinking how unfair that was as a kid that Tommy got to play when I didn't since he's two years older than me. The first year I finally got to participate, my present was Spam, which Aunt Cheryl bought on a trip to Hawaii because it's a local favorite.

I definitely made it known I didn't like the results. But I learned that I liked Spam though, since I was forced to eat it after that tantrum, and realized it's not half bad mixed with eggs.

"Grandma Bingo, O-74," Tommy calls as Liam shouts, "Bingo."

"Worst caller ever," Grandpa huffs as he clears his card, receiving a backhanded smack on the arm from Grandma in return.

Then she looks at Liam and picks up the present in front of her, rattling it as she wags her brows. "This one makes quite a bit of noise."

"This one's heavy as shit." My dad makes a pained face as he pretends to struggle with his package.

"Look at the wrapping on this one." Cheryl holds hers up for inspection. "Isn't it beautiful."

"We all know that one's yours Mom, you just don't want to get stuck with your own present." Tommy shakes his head then shout-whispers to Liam. "They look pretty, but she sucks at getting Bingo gifts. Don't be fooled."

"Your presents aren't under the tree yet, son. Santa's watching," Cheryl tells Tommy.

"Go for the big one, Liam." Mom hoists the largest package on the table. "Size matters."

"Eew, Mom," I groan. "No one wants to hear you say anything about size."

"She's not wrong, though." Tommy fist bumps her.

"Tommy!" I balk.

"I was talking about present size. God, get your head out of the gutter. This is a family game."

Liam snorts back a laugh before letting his eyes dart around the room, the pressure of stealing a present putting a somewhat nervous expression on his face. Finally, he gestures toward Grandpa, who's still sulking about his loss, and says, "That one."

"Kiss ass," Tommy mumbles.

After several more rounds, and a battle between Tommy and my mom over the biggest package, which Tommy wins, everyone's had a chance to call the game, so it's time to open presents.

"You first Grandpa, you're the oldest." Dad gets in a little jab.

"At least that's good for something," Grandpa grunts as he reaches for his present, a giant chocolate chip cookie that says Merry Christmas in thick red icing. "That's what I'm talking about." He breaks off a chunk and brings it to his mouth, smacking Tommy's hand away as he tries to help himself to a piece.

Grandma gets a Battery Daddy, a little carrying case that has every size battery imaginable, and Cheryl gets a waterproof phone case with a suction cup so you can stick your phone to the shower tile and listen to music.

"Trade ya," Tommy says to his mom.

"You don't even know what you got yet," she dismisses him and turns her attention to her brother, my dad, who's got her elegantly wrapped gift.

"A clock?" Dad turns the box over in his hand once he's got all the paper off.

"A Jesus clock?" Tommy wrinkles his nose and looks at Liam. "Told you her gifts suck."

"What's wrong with it?" Cheryl demands.

"It's not even digital," Tommy says. "Not to mention it talks."

"It talks?" Dad spins the box around.

"Look at it." Tommy points to a block of text on the package. "It says, ‘gently reminds you to engage in moments of prayer.' Can you imagine sitting in your quiet house and all of a sudden a strange voice says, ‘Let us pray.' They should call it a meet-your-maker clock, cause that thing'll give you a heart attack for sure."

Liam brings the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle a snort while Cheryl rolls her eyes. Then it's Mom's turn.

"Oh my," she gasps when she takes the tiny gift out of the bag and holds up A Christmas Story themed ornament.

"These are supposed to be gag gifts." I lean in so I can whisper to Liam.

"It is."

"Did you not notice the tree?" I jerk my head in the direction of the living room. "She's got a half-dozen A Christmas Story ornaments. They're her favorite."

Liam's gaze darts toward the tree even though he can't see the tree from here, then gives a little ‘what can I do' shrug as Mom pushes the button on the ornament, which depicts an image of Ralphie and his dad trying to change the tire. You hear the clatter of the bolt falling to the ground, and little Ralphie's voice says. "Oh…fu—" though it fades before he can finish the word.

The entire table cracks up laughing as Liam turns redder than the placemat in front of him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know it did that."

"That's the best part." Tommy wipes a tear from his eye and tears into his gift, which turns out to be a Christmas themed toilet seat with a jolly Santa on it. When the lid is down. When it's open, Santa's eyes are bugging out and his hand is covering what appears to be a gasp.

"I told you, Santa's watching." Cheryl cracks up at the look of sheer terror on Tommy's face.

"That is so wrong," Tommy mumbles. "Mooning Santa is just…so wrong."

Liam goes next, and he opens a noise machine that plays white, green, blue and all other kinds of background noise. It gives me ideas that aren't safe to have at the table, so I dig into mine before I can go too deep down that rabbit hole. I get a Snuggie that looks like Chewbacca from Star Wars, which at the very least could make a good Halloween costume since I'm not much of a blanket guy.

We spend a few minutes critiquing the gifts, then Grandma and Grandpa head to their house, and the rest of us watch Elf until Mom, Dad and Aunt Cheryl head off to bed, leaving just me, Liam and Tommy.

"You guys still determined to stay on the western slope, or are you gonna come back here?" I ask Tommy, who moved close to the Utah border a little over a year ago with Aunt Cheryl, since there's more opportunity over there.

"We'll probably stay there, at least for now. There's more work for both of us."

"What do you do?" Liam asks.

"Mom's in real estate and I'm studying to be a paramedic."

"Liam's studying premed," I tell Tommy.

"Cool. Family business?"

"Why does everyone always ask that?" Liam gives me a perplexed look.

"Small town habit. Lots of people who grow up here end up working in the family business," I explain. "There's not a whole lot of industry in this town, so most people take over where their parents left off, or move." I tip my head toward Tommy.

"Starting over. Cool," Liam says.

"Spoken like someone who's been there." Tommy gives Liam a curious once over. "Where is your family, anyway?"

"Tommy," I hiss. I should've known he'd bring that up even though I asked him not to. I love him but, he's a nosy fucker.

"It's okay." Liam gives me a weak smile and answers Tommy. "They're in Arizona, or at least I assume they are."

"You don't know?"

"We aren't…close. Not anymore. And Cruz wouldn't let me stay by myself in a hotel."

"Say no more, I get it." Tommy shakes his head. "My dad fucked off when I was ten or so, haven't seen him since. The rest of the family makes up for it. Cruz especially. He never met a stray he didn't like."

"Hey," I object. It's on the tip of my tongue to say Liam isn't a stray, but Tommy cuts me off.

"That's a compliment, dude," he deadpans. "You're a good friend. Now, tell me what school's like."

We spend the next hour or so telling Tommy what college is like since he's never been, then head to bed so we don't sleep in too late Christmas morning. That's the plan, anyway, but once we're by ourselves, I don't feel like sleeping.

"Was today okay?" I climb in bed and lie on my side, facing Liam, the dim light from the moon outside the window just barely enough to see the outline of his features.

His face isn't tense, but it's not quite relaxed, either. Pensive, almost. "Yeah, why?"

"It wasn't triggering to have my whole family laughing and joking and stuff?"

"Did it make me remember some things? Yeah. How could it not?" He takes a deep breath and attempts to smile. "But it was also vastly different. By the time I was old enough for adult humor there was still a little girl in the house, so we didn't have obnoxious conversations, and there were no such things as gag gifts. I miss having a kid around since they get so excited by Christmas, but it was cool to be able to talk without worrying that you're going to say the wrong thing and ruin the whole notion of Santa."

"I've never had to worry about that. Tommy's a few years older so I was the last in the family to believe. It'd be a ton of pressure to have to go along with the charade."

"There are pros and cons to each, I guess," he trails off, probably in the midst of another memory.

"Do you want to stay? We don't have to. I meant it when I said we could leave if it's too much."

"It's not too much." He presses his fingers to my chest, holding them there as if the contact reaffirms that I'm here even if he can't see me well in the dark. "I like your family. Especially your grandpa."

"Don't go getting any ideas." I take his hand in mine. "You've graduated from ironic sunshine to sunshine, no going back."

"I don't know. Grandpa seems perfectly happy to complain about everything. I could see myself slipping without the proper incentive to stay in a good mood."

"I assume you're going to tell me what the proper incentive is?" I bring his hand to my face and kiss his palm.

"Depends. Is that noise machine floating around up here?"

***

The first thing I notice when the sunlight wakes me up is that Liam's still asleep. The second is that the noise machine is still running, and it's just loud enough to mask the noises I intend to have him make.

Moving at the pace of a sloth so I don't shake the mattress, I scoot down the bed, taking the covers with me. He shifts slightly when the cooler air hits him, but doesn't wake, and lucky for me since he's rolled to his back he's giving me an unobstructed view of his cock.

Good thing we never put our shorts on after fooling around last night.

I take a minute to admire how cute it looks when it's soft—he's a grower, not a shower—and while the sight of him hard is definitely a turn-on, I also like seeing it rest sleepily against his thigh. But it's Christmas morning, and I want to wake him up right.

No better way to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ than dick in the morning.

So, I take it in my mouth. Gently at first, so I don't jolt him awake, I slurp on as much of him as I can fit. He tastes faintly of the cum he spilled last night, a flavor I can't really describe despite the fact I've learned to appreciate it over the last several weeks. I'll just call it sunshine.

A soft little moan wafts over me—he's not awake but getting there—just like his cock, which is starting to firm up in my mouth.

If someone told me a month ago that I'd jump at the chance to wake Liam up with a blow job, I'd have assumed they were concussed. And I would've been wrong. I love this part.

At first, I figured it would hurt my jaw, but I've been practicing over the past several weeks, and I can definitely go longer before it starts to cramp. I can take Liam deeper too, which is a good thing since the guy grows pretty big. I love seeing him all hot and hard, his full length eager for it, although my favorite is when he's still asleep, and soft, and that my mouth can turn him to stone.

I don't know why I like that so much. My best guess is it's pretty irrefutable evidence I'm doing a good job, and for a guy who didn't know what to do before we started experimenting, it's pretty heady to see the effect I can have on someone else.

Another groan rumbles from his throat, and since he's fully erect now, I'm pretty sure he's awake.

I bring my eyes up to meet his, finding them glazed with desire as he brings a hand to my head and sifts his fingers through my hair. It's gentle, much like the leisurely way I'm sucking him, and soothing enough that it makes my eyes feel heavy. I'm tempted to shut them, but then I wouldn't see the bliss in Liam's as he watches me swallow his cock.

This is my other favorite part about giving him head. The pure contentment on his face. It tells me that, at least for this moment, he's forgotten about the baggage that usually weighs his shoulders down.

Liam's fingers flex against my scalp, signaling that he's getting close. I pop off his cock long enough to get my finger wet, then take it back in my mouth as I slip my finger in his hole, just like he taught me to do last week.

It's so incredibly tight—I'm not convinced my dick will ever fit in there despite his insistence that it can—but I push forward, searching for that spongy spot he loves. It's risky to bring his prostate into the mix at my parents' house since I now know that magic button is what makes him moan the loudest, but…noise machine.

Fortunately, I only have to stroke it a few times once I find it before he's shooting off, filling my mouth with his release. And just like last night when we blew each other, I manage to swallow most of it down so my bed isn't a complete disaster.

As Liam's chest heaves through his release, I crawl over him until our mouths are lined up and press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Merry Christmas, Sunshine."

"You're spoiling me with these morning blow jobs." He drags his finger down my torso until it brushes against the crown of my hardened length. "Do we have time for me to return the favor?"

"If we're quick." I give him another soft kiss.

He gives my ass a little pat. "Sit on my chest."

Doing as he says, I straddle him so I'm lined up with his mouth, biting back a moan when his lips close around me. I'm instantly transported to heaven, losing all sense of time and space as I revel in the sensation of Liam moaning around my cock.

"Quiet," he hisses as he pulls off me. "The noise machine won't cover up the bed hitting the wall."

"The bed is hitting the wall?"

"It will if you keep thrusting like that. Hold still and let me suck you."

I manage to do that for another thirty seconds or so, until a shocked, "Holy shit!" drowns out the hum of the noise machine.

Liam shoves me off him as I grab for the comforter, pulling it up to shield what's left of our dignity. When we're basically covered, I zero in on Tommy standing at the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing in here?" I bark.

"We're all waiting on you two."

"So you barge in without knocking to tell us to get downstairs? Wait." I risk a glance at Liam, who's got the covers pulled up to his eyeballs. "How the hell did you get in here? The door was locked."

Tommy holds up a thin piece of cylindrical metal. "Pro tip, every door with a lock has one of these little master keys on the doorframe. Always has."

Holding the comforter to my waist, I lean forward and swipe the key from his hand, which almost topples me over since Liam's got a death grip on the portion of the cover he's hiding under.

"Do you mind?" I ask Tommy as I sit back down. "We can't exactly get moving with you standing there."

My cousin makes no effort to move, just stands there with a goofy grin on his face. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" I huff.

"That you two aren't roommates. You didn't have to go through a whole charade."

"We are roommates," I grunt.

Tommy's mischievous eyes grow wide. "You're living together? Did you move out of the dorm?"

"Yes. And no," I tell him as I grab Liam's shorts off the floor. "We were assigned the same room in the dorm."

"Oh, that's priceless." He claps his hands together. "You're boning your roommate. Is that against school policy?"

"Why would that be against school policy?" Liam finally pokes his head from under the covers. "And you're focused on that instead of the whole gay thing?" He accepts the pair of shorts I offer him and pulls them on under the covers.

"Pretty sure parents don't send their kids to school to do more fucking than studying." Tommy snorts. "And why would I give a shit about the gay thing?" Tommy sweeps his arm in front of himself as if to say, ‘duh.'

"I mean no one knows about this." Liam draws a line between the two of us as he gets out of bed and tosses me a pair of shorts to put on, since my cousin clearly isn't going to give us any privacy. "Most people would be more concerned with that than our living arrangements."

"Being gay isn't a scandal. Sleeping with your assigned roommate on the other hand…" He arches a sly brow at me. "You dog."

"Being gay when you're trying to get into the NFL could be considered a scandal," I say.

"Is that why no one knows?" Tommy draws an imaginary line between me and Liam.

"For now." I get up and stomp across the room, pulling on a pair of jeans as Liam does the same.

"For now," Tommy repeats with a bemused expression. "I hope you aren't planning to be one of those closeted athletes who has access to a huge platform that could advance our acceptance but doesn't take it."

"First, I have to get there, dumbass." I shrug on a hunter green Henley because Christmas. "And I don't know yet if having a boyfriend will make that impossible or just harder."

Liam pauses in the act of putting on his own shirt and says quietly, "You don't have a boyfriend."

"What if I want one?"

He shrugs his shirt on. "Do you?"

"Of course, I do." I cross the room until I'm standing just a foot away and rest my hands on his hips. "I know that's not fair to you, but I don't know what that means for getting drafted, and until I do, I'm not comfortable being out. But do I want that? Hell, yes."

"Not cool, Cuz." Tommy shakes his head at me. "You can't ask him to go back in the closet for you."

"I know." I heave a frustrated sigh.

"Give him some slack." Liam tells Tommy while looking at me with so much understanding it's like he's living inside my head. "He's new to the gay thing. And every baby gay gets a grace period to figure their shit out."

"What if at the end of the grace period he's not ready?" Tommy asks. "You two live together for God's sake. How is that gonna work?"

It's hard not to wince when I hear it that way, but it's the smart thing to do, right? Make sure your future is set before you make decisions that could alter it?

Liam answers before I can. "It might not. But Cruz deserves the chance to figure out who he is and what he wants without anyone pressuring him one way or the other. I won't take that away from him."

After years of pretending, I didn't feel any pressure to figure myself out. He has no idea how much it means to hear him say he won't put me in that position. Or maybe he does?

"Thank you." I breathe against his lips as I give him a tender kiss.

"I guess since you're already living together, you don't have to worry about the sneaking around part." Tommy snorts. "But why the fuck are you hiding it from your family? Do you think we'd out you?"

"No. I think it's not fair to ask you to keep a secret."

"Should've thought of that before fucking around in a house full of your relatives," Tommy scoffs and heads toward the door.

"Or you could not enter locked doors. Just saying," I tell his retreating back, before turning to Liam and brushing his soft hair away from his eye. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. I think it's a right of passage to get caught in a compromising position by your boyfriend's family when you meet them for the first time."

"So, you are my boyfriend, then?"

"I mean, you keep saying I am, so I guess I might as well go with it."

"I say it because I want it to be true, but I know how selfish that is. I get it if you aren't okay with that." My thumb grazes his cheek as I stare into the hazel eyes that I'm starting to know better than my own.

"I'm pre-med, Cruz. I'm smart enough to realize if I start hooking up with a guy that's in the closet, chances are I'll be living there, too. At least until one of us decides to make a change." He gives me a smile that's almost wistful before popping up on his toes to give me a searing kiss. "Now, let's get downstairs before Grandpa loses his shit. I scored points for trading presents in Bingo, but I bet I'll lose them if we don't get our asses downstairs soon."

"Last one down has to sit next to him at breakfast." I kiss Liam's cheek and sprint for the door, so I'm not tempted to walk out of the room holding his hand.