Josh

JOSH

I don’t know what to wear. The date idea is so new I doubt either of us has any concrete plans. In the end, I go with a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Then I reconsider, because Gabriel always looks put together, so it would be nice to look like I’ve made an effort. I want to make an effort for him.

I pull the T-shirt off and toss it on the couch, but before I can pick out a shirt to wear, there’s a knock on the door. I glance at my watch and roll my eyes. Early. Of course he’s early.

I stomp to the hallway and pull the door open, but instead of Gabriel, it’s a…

I stare at the Christmas tree, not sure what to make of it.

“Hello?” I say.

“If you move out of the way, I can actually bring this thing in,” Gabriel says.

I open the door wider and take a few steps back. The Christmas tree follows me inside and Gabriel carefully balances it against the wall as he rolls a suitcase in after himself.

“What is all this?” I ask.

Instead of answering, he straightens up and lets his eyes wander over my bare chest.

“You dressed up for me. It’s one of your better outfits.”

I roll my eyes. “So glad you approve.”

He gets that determined look on his face that I’m learning to really like by now and strides toward me. He presses himself against me, and I let out a squeak of protest.

“You’re ice cold,” I say.

“Warm me up, then.”

His mouth comes down on mine, cool lips and a scorching hot tongue, and I melt against him. Melt into the kiss. I wrap myself around him until we both stumble into the tree, and he laughs and laughs and laughs.

We move the tree into the living room together and find a place for it by the window. Gabriel wheels the suitcase in and unzips it. It’s got a tree stand inside it and is full of decorations. Lights and ornaments and tinsel.

“I went shopping,” Gabriel says.

“Clearly. I feel like I should warn you that I can’t really think about anything except kissing you again.”

He smirks. “Feel free. My mouth is your mouth.”

“You’re very agreeable today.”

“Must be that pesky Christmas spirit kicking in.”

So I kiss him again.

Then once more for good measure.

After that, I put on a shirt, and we set up an decorate the tree. Once we’re done, we both take a step back and admire the results.

“It’s the best tree I’ve ever seen,” I say.

“I am known for being the best and providing the best.”

“Except in being modest. You’re not great at that.”

He smirks. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I never got the impression you were particularly into modesty.”

“So this is for my benefit?”

“It’s a character quirk. The fact that you like it is just a nice little bonus.” He waggles his brows before he nods toward the kitchen nook. “Come on. I’m making you dinner.”

“A man who cooks,” I say as I trail him. “Sexy.”

He picks a bag up off the floor. I can’t recall him putting it there, but then again, I’ve been busy checking him out for the last hour, so my mind’s been occupied with other things.

“What are you making me?” I ask.

“Roasted sweet potatoes and sticky glazed chicken. And I have chocolate cake for dessert.”

I nod, impressed. “Yeah, okay. You can stay.”

He snorts. “As if you would’ve kicked me out anyway.”

“Guess we’ll never know.” I send him a toothy grin.

“You can take care of the salad,” he says, and as I pass him, he slaps my ass. I raise my brows at him, but he looks completely unapologetic. Totally fair.

We work side by side. There’s teasing and laughter, and it’s comfortable and nice and somehow everything just seems to fit. Gabriel here in my kitchen. The playlist he puts on. The Christmas tree in the living room. The snow outside the window.

Gabriel nudges me with his hip. “What are you smiling about?”

I shake my head, unable to verbalize just how right everything feels. “It’s just… good. It’s all good and right and nice. Kind of perfect, actually.”

His fingers catch the underside of my chin and lift it just a bit for a soft, brief kiss.

“Thank you,” I say.

He sends me a quizzical look. “For?”

“Giving me Christmas.”

“I think it would’ve come even without me.” His words have a sardonic edge, but he looks pleased nonetheless.

“Nah. It was going to be canceled.”

“I have more power than I realized.”

“I love Christmas,” I say. “Really love it. But… the last time I had a real one was when my parents were still alive. After they died it was me and my grandparents, and the holidays don’t really matter much to them. I think they view it as a waste of their time, first and foremost. They do have a holiday dinner for their closest acquaintances and colleagues and all the people they consider important for one reason or another. It’s very official, very boring, and overall the exact opposite of fun.”

“Doesn’t sound very Christmassy.”

“It’s not. Plus, I don’t think I’ll be invited after I tell them I’m quitting law school.”

He snaps his head toward me. The expression of surprise is downright comical. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m quitting.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t, you’ll never get to be top of the class, and now that we’re sort of dating or something, I feel like I should help you and stuff.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, first of all, we’re not sort of dating. We’re dating. Full stop.”

I can’t help the way my lips pull into a grin and my heart picks up speed.

“And I’m at the top of the class already.”

“We’re tied,” I scoff.

“You keep telling yourself that, baby.”

I lose my trail of thought, because being called baby by Gabriel García is an experience. It takes me a while to get back on track.

“It’s just not for me,” I finally say. “At all. I could become a decent lawyer, and I’d probably end up hating my life. I just don’t have any passion for it. I picked it for all the wrong reasons. Because I wanted to please the people in my life.”

He listens to me calmly, then nods. “Okay.”

“You’re not… I don’t know, disappointed in me, or anything like that?”

“Never.” He puts the knife down, wipes his hands on a towel, and steps closer. His hands go on my hips, and he pulls me against him. “I’m not going to judge. Not going to nag or act like I know better. I want to be here when you figure things out, and I want to cheer along as you do.”

I look down and pull in a deep breath. Everything feels lighter already.

“You’ll be my very own cheerleader, huh? Will you do the splits for me?”

He laughs. “Be aggressive. Be, be aggressive.”

“Could use some practice, but you’ll do,” I say.

“Good to know.”

He goes back to cooking, and I go back to enjoying the view. Men who cook really are unbelievably sexy.

“Any ideas what you want to do?” he asks after a little bit.

“Not a single one.”

He shrugs. “You’ll figure it out.”

That’s it.

He drops it.

And then we make dinner.

And it snows outside.

I’m not sure what I expect to happen once night falls. I don’t want him to go home, but at the same time the tiny scraps of logical thinking that are still swimming around somewhere in the back of my brain insist normal people would probably say it’d be better if I didn’t come off as an overly needy lunatic right off the bat.

The thing is, whether real or not, we spent so much time together when we were switched. Gabriel was with me all day and all night. Which means that once we switched back or woke up from our shared dream or whatever we’re going to call it, I was suddenly on my own again.

And even worse—I missed him.

I can admit it now.

I missed him. Missed him like there was a hole in my life. Missed him with a persistent ache in my chest. Just missed him.

Gabriel stretches where we’re lounging on the couch with the remnants of the chocolate cake on a plate on the coffee table. He turns his head and looks at me, relaxed and content. I like him like this. I have a feeling not a lot of people get to see him this way.

“Do you want me to—” he starts to say.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“No, I don’t want you to go,” I say.

He smiles. Everything about him is soft. “Good.”

I find him a pair of sleep pants and a T-shirt, and then we watch each other undress and change clothes. It’s the biggest possible tease, and Christ, I want him. Of course I want him. But I also like this moment. The right before. This heightened state of awareness and anticipation. This moment when everything I want is about to happen. The seconds before unwrapping a present.

It’s good.

All of it.

So, so good.

We make the bed and climb in. Put on a movie neither of us pays attention to.

“A question,” Gabriel says. He settles in, his head perched on my thigh, legs stretched out. I comb my fingers through his hair.

“Surprise me.” I grin.

“Aren’t your grandparents exceptionally wealthy?”

“Fairly.” I nod.

“Then how come you live here?”

“What do you mean by here? In New York? In my own apartment? In a small apartment?”

“That last one, mainly.”

I laugh. “ They’re wealthy. I’m really not.”

“I was under the impression family money worked a bit differently?”

“Possibly for some people. The whole thing’s a bit messy.”

He waits in silence until words spill out of me.

“I think it’d work a bit differently if it weren’t for my mother. It’s like… generational sin. My mother ran off with my father, so that was shameful in and of itself for my grandparents. I think they expected her to fail and come back with her tail between her legs. When she didn’t, they cut her off, and then when that didn’t work either, they disinherited her. Since I’m her son, I think I’m supposed to prove myself first. You know, show I’m worthy or something like that.”

He studies me for a few moments. “That’s really shitty behavior.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care about the money. And it’s not like they left me destitute. They put a roof over my head and paid for everything. They also covered my college tuition and paid for law school.”

“It’s still shitty behavior. Mind games. Come on.”

“It’s a bit different from your family,” I say. Lightly. I don’t feel bitter about it. Not really.

“Tell me about your parents,” he says.

“Activists, both of them. I don’t remember a whole lot. They died when I was pretty young, but they both constantly had a cause. I remember attending protests a lot. And they liked to travel. I have photos of me strapped to my father’s back, backpacking in Southeast Asia and New Zealand and other faraway places. They were happy together.”

Gabriel eyes me for a long time.

“My parents will love you,” he says then, in a low voice with an expression so fierce I can feel it in my bones. “My whole family. They’ll probably end up liking you better than they like me once they properly meet you.”

A lump rises in my throat, but I’m also grinning. “Most likely. I’m a great person.”

He smiles at me when I slide my fingers through his hair again and again.

He sits up. Knee-walks to me. Throws his leg over mine and straddles me. His palms cover my cheeks. His eyes are locked with mine. He lowers his head.

And then he kisses me.

Not just a kiss. He kisses me like we’ve been kept apart by lifetimes and catastrophes and circumstances beyond our control and finally, finally we can see each other again. It’s a kiss full of desperation and relief and need.

My hands go to his thighs. His are still holding my face.

The kiss is frantic. The groans grow desperate.

He pulls his mouth away from mine and presses his lips to the corner of my mouth for a moment before his gaze finds mine again.

“Be mine,” he says.

It’s scary. But only a little. Mostly, it’s thrilling all the way down to the marrow of my bones.

“I’m nervous,” I admit. “Just a bit.”

“You know the sides of me nobody else does. The petty, overly competitive, annoying sides I pretend don’t exist with other people. How are you nervous now?”

“All those other times, when you were being petty, overly competitive, and annoying, I wasn’t about to sleep with you.”

His gaze, usually so very calm, is different now. There’s something wild in it. Something new and exciting and ferocious.

“Is that what we’re about to do?”

I pull his hips forward, and he leans into me, chest against chest. His eyes move over my face, and he kisses me again, gently this time. I never know what to expect from him, and a thrill of excitement runs through me.

“New partner is always a bit scary,” I whisper as his lips press against the corner of my mouth again. He hums.

“You’ve never had any problems telling me exactly what you’re thinking, and I’m good with my hands, my mouth, and my dick, so I figure we’ll be just fine.” He quirks his brow, and I tip my head back and laugh.

“You want to go slow?” he asks.

“Fuck that. All the way. Don’t hold anything back. I’ve waited too long.”

“I’ve thought about having you like this for years.”

My heart jolts with excitement at those words. “You couldn’t even stand me.”

“I’m thinking half the reason I couldn’t stand you might’ve been that I wanted you that badly.”

I smirk. “So you liked me and decided to pull my pigtails to let me know?”

“No.” He plants another kiss on me. This time on the skin just below my ear. “I was definitely annoyed with you for the most part. The fact that I eventually realized I also wanted you just added fuel to the fire.”

“Well, now you have me. The question is, what are you going to do to me?”

He laughs softly, grabs the hem of my shirt, and pulls it over my head, and the way he looks at me is nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Like I’m something rare and magical. Something only a select few have ever had the privilege of witnessing in their lifetime. That look makes my skin burn and something jolt in my chest, and when he hooks his fingers in my waistband and pulls off my pants, all those feelings intensify.

He looks me up and down with that same intense heat in his gaze, before he moves on top of me, holding himself up on his arms, his body barely touching mine aside from his knee between my legs and the soft brush of his T-shirt moving over my skin.

I can barely breathe from the anticipation when his mouth hovers over mine.

I slide my thumb across the skin of his abdomen, just above the waistband of his pants, and the muscles contract underneath my touch. He sucks in a breath and curses.

His mouth comes crashing down on mine. I answer him eagerly and wrap my arms around his neck. He tumbles down onto me and my lips never leave his. Instead, I clutch him closer, hands roaming over the soft fabric of his shirt before I slide my fingers underneath it and caress his hot skin.

He gasps into my mouth.

The kiss gets even more intense. His tongue glides over my lips, and I open my mouth for him.

We’re just roaming hands, eager mouths, and desperate need at this point.

And his clothes are in the way.

I hook my leg around him and roll us over, so he’s beneath me instead.

I tug at his shirt, and he lifts his arms so I can pull it over his head. It lands on the floor somewhere. His pants are next on the list. Then I straddle him.

We’re both naked and dizzy with need, and it makes everything feel powerful and intense like it’s never been before.

It’s also intense when he pins me with a fiery look and rasps, “What do you like?”

I laugh, a bit dazed and a lot turned-on.

“Everything.”

I lean forward on one arm, and his cock bobs against my abdomen as if demanding attention.

“Top?” I ask. “Bottom?”

“Either,” he says.

I grin at him. “Same.”

He laughs and raises his hand, and I high-five him. We laugh some more before I lower my head and lick his nipple, and the laughter dies away.

A searing bolt of lust hits my insides.

“Christ,” he groans. “More.”

I look up and flatten my tongue against his nipple for a moment before I bite it. His hips hunch up.

I move lower, kissing down his chest, over his rib cage and abs. I flick my tongue into his navel, and he makes some sort of indecipherable noise in the back of his throat. His dick jerks against the underside of my jaw, greedy and needy and demanding.

His eyes burn when he looks at me.

“Put it in your mouth,” he rasps.

Turns out I don’t mind him ordering me around when we’re both naked.

I wrap my fingers around the root of his cock, keep my eyes on him, and flick my tongue over the tip.

“Fuck,” he says reverently.

I lick him again. And again. And again.

I’m already addicted to his taste.

I grip him, so hot and so firm in my hand. His cock is thick and long and heavy, his eyes hooded as he watches, letting me explore, giving me free rein to do whatever I want.

And what I want is to get a proper taste.

I open my mouth and take him in. As deep as I can go. The muscles of his thighs tense and he lets out a garbled noise, head thrown back, hands fisting the sheets. He parts his legs wider and bends one knee.

I pull off him and let a drop of saliva fall. It slides down his glistening dick and over his balls.

His breathing turns harsh.

In a flash, he’s pushed himself into a sitting position, fingers gripping my jaw.

“Get inside me,” he says. “I’ve waited too long.”

The snort of laughter that escapes me has an edge of desperation to it.

“Your wish is my command.”

I get the lube and condoms, uncap the lube, and dribble some on my fingers. I slide my hand up his thigh and between his legs. My fingertip slips inside him easily, and he lets out a gasp. I curl my finger. His eyes fall shut, but only for a moment, and then he’s looking at me again, like he can’t miss a moment of this.

I scramble backward and take him in my mouth once more. Sticky precum. Hard, hot flesh. And a salty, slightly bitter taste on my tongue.

Gabriel’s hands are in my hair, tugging and pulling, hips punching upward.

We’re messy now. The blow job is messy. My fingers in his ass are messy, and the wild, uncontrolled look he sends me is messy too.

Seeing him like this sends a thrill through my whole body. I did this. I took this calm, cool, collected man, and I made him desperate for me. I made him crave me.

I push my fingers deeper inside him, and in response he moves away from me, hauls me against him, and rolls on top of me. The kiss that lands on my mouth is sloppy and wild. He nudges my leg, so I bend my knee, and then it’s his fingers against my opening. A wet finger eases inside me, then a second one a little while later. Sparks dance down my spine as he scissors his fingers and stretches me open.

He pushes me into the mattress, his big body over me and above me, everywhere around me, mouth on me in a desperate, starving kiss.

“Fuck me,” I gasp. “Do it. Right now.”

I wrap my leg around him, digging my heel into his firm ass cheek and pulling him closer.

“Impatient,” he says with a laugh, but he rolls a condom on. He leans forward, balancing on one arm and using his other hand to angle his cock as he starts to push inside me.

It’s just on the edge of too much. That narrow balancing act between wait and faster.

“,” Gabriel groans, his voice filled with need, and that tips the scales.

He’s big. Really fucking big, and the stretch is also balancing on too much, but there’s a sharp pleasure in the way my body surrenders to him, lets him in.

Gabriel rocks his hips, easing in an inch at a time, slowly and patiently, and the calm control is so fucking hot. It’s even hotter because I know it takes a lot to keep that calm composure, and I get to be the one who dismantles it.

He leans forward and plants his hands on the wall above my head while he pushes the rest of the way inside me. Then he holds still for a long moment, eyes closed, vibrating with tension, waiting.

I squeeze my muscles, and he shudders and opens his eyes.

His eyes run down my body, then back up until our gazes lock.

“Look at this,” he says. “Look at me inside you.”

The guttural rasp in his voice makes shivers run down my back and spirals of lust coil through my belly.

I spread my legs wider and wrap both of them around him. He sinks an inch deeper, a feral expression of bliss on his face. He pries one hand loose and runs his fingers down my chest before he swipes his thumb over the tip of my cock.

“Does it feel good?” he asks. “Me inside you.”

I can barely speak, my voice drowned out by my harsh breathing.

“Yes,” I manage. “God, please, just move.”

He chuckles, sounding about as wrecked as I feel.

“How good?”

I cant my hips, but he stays still. “I’m going to kill you,” I groan.

“I don’t think that’ll get you fucked.”

“You alive doesn’t seem to be getting me fucked either.”

I’m burning up. Blood boiling. Insides on fire.

Gabriel’s cock nudges against something sensitive inside me, but it’s not nearly enough, and I need more. I shove my hand between our bodies and grip my dick. I give myself a slow stroke as a loud moan escapes. It’s not the kind of relief I was after, but it’s better than nothing.

Gabriel still doesn’t move.

I growl and throw my head back.

“I’m jerking off with you balls-deep in my ass. Give me something, or I’ll give it to myself.”

Gabriel lets out a ragged breath. He pulls out. And pushes back in. Then again. And again. Each movement a little faster. A little harder.

Until he’s really fucking me.

He’s an overachiever by nature, so of course he gets the angle just right so my limbs get heavy, and my body is bombarded with pleasure and pure bliss. My hands roam over his back, his muscles bunching and knotting underneath my fingertips while he drives in and out of me. I’m gasping for breath, dazed and needy in a way I’ve never been before. Something dazzling and perfect starts tingling at the base of my spine.

I want more. I want it all.

And just as I’m about to get it, succumb to the pleasure he’s been stoking inside me, he pulls out.

I’m too turned on to even register what’s happening for a moment, but suddenly he’s rolling a condom on me and flicking the cap of the lube bottle open. I blink when his fingers wrap around the base of my dick.

And then he starts to sink down on me.

“Oh, fuck,” I rasp as he gets lower and lower, inch by steady inch. “Oh, fuck .”

His expression is filled with determination, pupils dilated, lips slightly parted.

It’s hands down the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I push my fingers into the hair at the back of his head and pull him down until I can crush my mouth to his. Tongues clash, and I swallow Gabriel’s moans.

He slams down on me over and over again. Grunts and groans fill the air around us, and everything looks sharp and blurry, all at once.

I might be inside Gabriel, but he’s doing the fucking. I’m just along for the ride.

Skin slaps against skin, an erotic soundtrack that fills my small apartment, and I’ll never be able to be in this room again without thinking about what we’ve done here. The two of us. Together.

“So close,” Gabriel says through gritted teeth, his muscles rippling, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

My balls draw up tighter, and I take his cock in my hand.

He comes almost immediately. Jets of cum coat the back of my hand and my wrist as Gabriel curses and slams himself down on me.

My own orgasm hits as if out of nowhere. My cock slides in and out of Gabriel’s ass until I bury myself inside him with one last shout. Pure ecstasy swallows me whole. It pounds through my bloodstream and shakes my bones.

We’re both loud. Curses and groans and gasps punctuate every shiver of pleasure and every moment of bliss.

Gabriel’s plastered against me, impossibly tightly. His cock is trapped between our bellies, and every time either of us makes even the smallest of moves, a shiver runs through his body from the minuscule amount of friction it creates.

And then he kisses me. Kisses me like he’s worshipping me, and I wrap myself around him and hold him against me until our pounding hearts slow down and the bliss becomes something manageable, instead of something insane and overwhelming.

Gabriel lies half on top of me, his thigh thrown over mine, his fingertips drawing lazy patterns on my skin.

“Merry Christmas,” I mumble when I glance at the clock and see it’s now technically the twenty-fifth.

He laughs sleepily, eyes impossibly soft. “We’ll make it into a tradition.”

“Fucking until we both pass out?” I ask.

“It’s what our holidays are all about from now on.”

“This might make for some awkward Christmas dinners.”

He laughs again and plays with my fingers.

“I should be scared, right?” I say. “It feels like I should be scared.”

“Of?”

“You. Or you and me. Us.”

The pad of his thumb taps against the pad of my index finger. “And? Are you?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “No.”

“An unexpectedly smart decision.”

I pinch his nostrils shut between my fingers in retaliation until he laughs and turns his head away.

I lean my forehead against his. “I could get used to this.”

The look he sends me is filled with gentle intent. “I’ll make sure you do.”

He slides his thumb over the back of my hand.

And I know, I just know, that I’m going to go all the way. I’m going to fall in love with him. Truly. Madly. Deeply. All the way.

And instead of scared, I’m full of feelings.

Mostly happiness.

It’s good.

And it’s snowing outside.

And there are lights on the tree.

And Christmas is here.

Ours.

And I just know it’s the first of so many to come.