Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

L uke couldn’t believe it was already Christmas Eve. He and Chris had gone to the grocery store yesterday morning and bought the stuff for a small Christmas dinner, but no big turkey or anything. He usually spent the afternoon on Christmas Day at the soup kitchen, doing whatever was needed, and Chris had agreed to come with him this year. Payment was a plate of food of their own, so they would get turkey and all the fixings. They’d opted for a tiny roast beef to have in the evening alongside fries and a ready-to-mix salad in a bag.

He’d picked up a few things for Chris, and they were wrapped and under the tiny tree they’d put up. It was a rainbow tree that he’d found at Michaels a couple years ago. It had lights on it and a few ornaments, and they’d stuck their fingers until they bled the night before making a popcorn and cranberry garland to go on it. It was kitschy and perfect. Tonight, they were going to make cookies after work. They’d each picked a different kind, and they’d gotten the ingredients for those, too.

He was excited. It was the first year in a while he had someone to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with. Probably since his folks had kicked him out the day he’d turned eighteen. They would have done it earlier—the day he’d told them he was gay in fact—but they felt it was their responsibility to continue to house and feed him and try to get him back on “the right path” until he turned eighteen. He didn’t miss them. They’d made the last year and a half he’d been there miserable.

He shook that off and ushered the last kid up to Santa’s lap. The Santa display closed at four today because Santa had to “get back to the North Pole to get his sleigh and hand out gifts,” so they had the whole evening in front of them and he was looking forward to it.

He’d kissed Chris the other night, just a little peck really, but Chris hadn’t hit him or said anything nasty about it, and Luke was hoping to do it again. Maybe less quick, and more accurately on Chris’s lips, and maybe Chris would reciprocate. He wasn’t going to push anything, though, because if Chris wasn’t into it, he didn’t want to make the guy uncomfortable in his home. That would suck.

Tasia ran for the break room as soon as the last photos were taken, even more in a hurry to get out of there than usual. She had a fairly new boyfriend, and they spent as much time as they could together these days. It was cute.

Mrs. Pelletier was waiting for them when they got there, and she handed them each an envelope with their names on them. “Just a little Christmas bonus.” She shook his hand and then Chris’s. “I hope you’ll both come back next year. Come see me or give me a call in late October.”

“Thank you,” he and Chris answered together, and Luke added, “Have a Merry Christmas!”

“You too.”

Luke peeked into his envelope as he went into the locker room and whistled. “There’s like two hundred bucks in here.”

“Yeah, mine too.”

“Wow! You know what we should do? We should book somewhere swanky for New Year’s Eve and have a luscious dinner.”

“You want to blow it all on a dinner?”

“Well, it is unexpected money. And besides, I’ll be taking you out so you can sock yours away for a rainy day.”

“Like on a date?” Chris asked.

Luke shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “If you want. Or it can just be roommates going out to dinner.” He wasn’t going to push.

“If that’s what you want to do with your money,” Chris said.

“It is.”

“Okay.”

He grinned and bounced a little as he took off all his gear. Damn, his ears were sore today. They hadn’t really stopped being sore at all over the last two weeks. Before he could reach up and rub them, Chris took each ear between his fingers and massaged.

“Oh.” Luke’s eyes closed, and he groaned. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

“You should tell Pelletier that they don’t fit right.”

“It’s only the last couple weeks that are really bad.”

Chris just snorted and massaged a little longer. Then he went and got changed.

They waved at Mr. Oldelsson as they passed his stall, and then at Bernie the hot dog vendor. They’d both be closing up soon enough. Luke guessed they were just waiting for the last few stragglers who might be hungry or thirsty, or both.

“Hey, you want a hot dog?” He hadn’t had anything since he’d shoved a half-toasted Eggo into his mouth before walking to work this morning, and he was starving. “It’ll make Bernie’s day.”

“I won’t say no.”

Luke bounced on his heels and went over to the cart and ordered two dogs.

“You got good plans for Christmas?” Bernie asked as he worked on their dogs.

“We sure do. We’re making cookies when we get home.” It was going to be fun. He liked doing things with Chris. They’d done a tiny bit of cooking together and it had been great, even when they got in each other’s ways, so he had high hopes for the cookie-making. “How about you?”

“Family always comes to us for the big dinner and the missus does it up right.”

“That sounds great.”

Bernie passed over their dogs for them to dress as they wanted. He put mustard on his, and Chris put ketchup, relish, and mustard on his. Luke passed over a twenty from his bonus envelope. Bernie went to give him change, and Luke waved him off. “Merry Christmas, man.”

“Thank you very much—you have a Merry Christmas yourself.”

“That was a big tip,” Chris noted as they crossed the street to head home.

Luke shrugged. “It’s Christmas. Besides, it’s unexpected money, so it’s not like sharing some of it means I have to go without something.” He believed in passing it on. There had been some people who’d been good to him when he’d gotten kicked out and he figured the best way to repay them was to pass on the kindness.

He and Chris ate their dogs as they walked home, and it was amazing how much warmer it seemed when it wasn’t dark. Having hot food to munch on as they went didn’t hurt, either.

Luke balled up his wrapper when he was done. He’d toss it when they got home. “It’s going to be weird, not going in anymore. But I always love the week between Christmas and New Year’s because I don’t have anywhere to be or anything to do.”

“What do you usually do?”

He shrugged and pondered Chris’s question. “Whatever strikes my fancy. It’s awesome, not having anything to do for a week.” Then he laughed. “I gotta admit, though, after about a week, I’m ready to stop being a schlub.”

“So you wear pajamas and do very little for a week?”

“Pretty much,” Luke admitted, grinning. The mention of pajamas reminded him of the two identically wrapped presents he’d slipped under the tree before they’d left for work this morning. They could open those up when they got home. Matching pajamas. They were red and had moose on them with Christmas lights wrapped around their antlers. He’d even already washed them so they could put them right on.

He skipped along to keep up with Chris’s longer stride, eager to get home and put on their pajamas, turn on the Christmas music and make their cookies. It was Christmas Eve, and they had the whole evening in front of them!

“Home sweet home,” he noted as they pulled up in front of the door. He let Chris dig out his newly minted key and unlock the door. Then he enjoyed the view as they trooped up the stairs.

“That dog hit the spot,” Chris admitted as he toed off his boots and hung his coat up on the coatrack by the door.

Luke followed suit and they both went to the kitchen to dump their wrappers in the garbage. “Yeah, it means we can make cookies without too much worry we’ll eat all the dough.”

“Dough’s not good for you,” Chris noted, but he had a bit of a faraway look on his face.

“Where’d you go?” Luke asked.

“My mom used to say that, all the time. Usually as my dad was stealing spoonfuls of cookie batter right from under her as she baked. He’d hand me a spoon with some on it, too. Give me a wink and put his finger in front of his lips.”

“Sounds like a good memory.”

“Yeah. I hadn’t thought of that in a very long time.”

“Your folks still around?” Luke kind of hoped they weren’t. Not that he wanted them dead, but if Chris was his kid, there’s no way Luke would let him live on the streets.

“No. They died in a car crash about eight years ago now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. It was quick; they didn’t suffer.”

Maybe not, but Luke imagined that Chris had.

“Is making cookies going to bring up hard memories?” Luke was so looking forward to making them, but not if doing it hurt Chris.

“Nope. I want to make them.”

“Awesome. There’s just one thing we have to do first.” He grabbed Chris’s hand and led him to their fabulous new couch.

Chris had one eyebrow up, his expression skeptical, and Luke could just imagine that Chris was wondering what the heck he was up to now.

Grabbing the two presents from under the tree, he handed the one with Chris’s name over to him. The tag read, To Chris, thanks for filling in, Love Santa .

Chris chuckled. “What does yours say?”

“To Luke, sorry about the ears, Love Santa.” Luke grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Come on, open it!” He could wait, because he knew what the sparkly packages contained.

Chris carefully undid the wrapper, revealing the pajamas. He took them and held them up.

“They’re pajamas!” Luke tore open his own package, then held the pjs up to show Chris. “Matching pajamas!” He laughed and bounced up, heading for the bedroom. “We have to put them on to bake cookies.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am very sure. Come on—it’s Christmas, get your cheer on.” Once in the bedroom, he tore off his clothes and put the pajamas on. They were as soft as they’d seemed, and they were warm and Christmassy and perfect.

“I’m coming out,” he called, warning Chris in case he was still mid-change. Luke thought it was probably more likely Chris hadn’t even started getting changed and would have to be cajoled into doing it. So he was very pleasantly surprised when he saw Chris was already pajama’d up and in the kitchen, consulting the recipes and finding the ingredients, setting them on the counter.

“You look great!” Luke admired Chris. He really was good-looking. And he smelled good. And soon he’d smell like cookies too, and that would be even better.

“I look like a dork.”

“I guess I do too then.” He wasn’t concerned. He was a guy who dressed up as an elf during the six weeks before Christmas—he was a giant dork. “A cookie-making dork.”

He had chosen snickerdoodles, and Chris had chosen chocolate chip cookies, but made with M&Ms. They were both going to be delicious.

Luke let Chris continue gathering their ingredients while he read the recipes and followed the first step—turning the oven on. Then he grabbed his phone and got his Christmas playlist going.

It was going to be a great evening.