Chapter Twelve

It was Christmas Eve and Heath was the happiest he’d been for a long while. He still felt like pinching himself that he was with Tristan. They were so good together, it seemed touch and go as to whether they’d get out of bed. There was so much fun to be had in bed, that the only time either of them put their feet on the carpet was to fetch something to eat or drink, or to use the bathroom. But the tree was still on Tristan’s car and Heath wanted it planted in the garden.

“Breakfast, then tree?” Tristan asked. “Croissant and coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Tristan was easy to say yes to.

It had stopped snowing, and the world outside had turned into a winter wonderland. Heath didn’t know when he’d last seen something so beautiful. There were no footprints in the garden, not even bird tracks. In the low sun, the snow lay like a sparkling white blanket over everything.

Heath joined Tristan at the breakfast bar. “Do you think it can be true that no two snowflakes are alike?”

Tristan chuckled. “Last time I had that thought I was too drunk to think straight. But no, I don’t think it’s possible. Snowflakes start as simple, six-sided prisms, but as they fall, they branch out, grow, or merge with other flakes.Atmospheric conditions change all the time so each snowflake is affected differently. It’s possible that a snowflake could keep its original shape if it falls through the same atmospheric conditions, but the odds of that are very small. The bigger they are, the less likely it is.”

“You sound as if you’re saying under the exact same conditions, you could get two the same.”

“How can we prove it? Almost impossible is the best answer.”

“I was really bad at science. I feel as if I should know more. Though I feel like that about everything. I don’t ever want to stop learning.”

“You have no idea how perfect you are, do you?”

“I’m nowhere near perfect.” But the way that Tristan looked at him made Heath feel he was. “Do you have a place in mind for the tree?”

“Front of the house, middle of the lawn. There’s an outdoor socket next to the front door so we can plug in the lights.”

“You’d dig up your lawn?”

“Yes. For you.”

Heath smiled.

After they’d eaten, Heath was decked out in Tristan’s spare winter gear, with the sleeves of his jacket and the legs of his waterproof trousers rolled up. Heath put on his own Peruvian hat but accepted Tristan’s offer of gloves.

“I hope the ground isn’t frozen,” Heath said.

“The top bit will be but I can get out my jack hammer.”

Heath widened his eyes. “You have man tools?”

Tristan laughed. “You want a go?”

Heath whined. “Yeeessss!”

Once they were outside, Heath took a deep breath of the cold air and sighed. He looked at the unmarked path to the car and almost didn’t want to spoil it, but Tristan was already wading over to the garage. Heath decided he’d pull the tree off the car. When it didn’t move, he yanked hard and ended up with the tree flipping over his head and burying him in snow. Fuck!

Tristan hauled him free. “You should have waited. You okay?”

“Yes.” He brushed off the snow. “It looks even bigger. How can that be the case?”

Tristan frowned. “It does. That’s strange.” He handed Heath a snow clearing shovel. “Let’s choose a spot.”

The snow was at least thirty centimetres deep but soft and fluffy. Heath sort of wanted to roll in it, but he’d already had a taste of how cold it was.

“Here will be fine,” Tristan said. “Clear a circle of snow. If you toss it all in the same place, we can build a snowman.”

Heath beamed. “Can we call it Olaf?”

“Why?”

“You’ve never watched Frozen ?”

“Is it a horror story?”

Heath held in his laugh. “Sort of. One little girl almost kills her sister with a blast of ice. Same girl but older, makes a scary monster out of snow that made me yelp. The sister that’s nearly frozen as a child, actually gets frozen into a statue and dies when she’s grown up.” He shivered. “Disney. Huh.”

“Oh, that Frozen. ”

“There’s another?”

“Look it up.”

Heath lobbed a snowball at him.

“You missed.”

“I meant to.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

Tristan glowered.

Once Heath had cleared a section of ground, Tristan used the jack hammer to break the surface. Heath put his hands over his ears.

“Want a go?” Tristan yelled.

“No, thank you.”

The noise of the drill faded.

“Didn’t you want to be yes guy?”

“Not on this occasion, thank you. It looks horrendous and it’s so noisy.”

“Go and get a spade out of the garage, please. We’ll be able to dig in a minute.”

By the time Heath was back, Tristan had finished drilling, the soil was broken up and Heath was able to start making the hole.

“Enough?” Heath asked after he’d removed three spades worth.

“Deeper.”

Heath kept going. Tristan took over after a few minutes and finally declared the hole deep enough.

Between them, they dragged the tree over, most of the snow falling off as they hauled it to the middle of the lawn.

“Once we get it upright, you hold it in place and I’ll put the soil back,” Tristan said.

Heath was sure it weighed more than it had when they’d lifted it onto the car, but maybe it was just the snow.

Finally, it was upright and the hole had been filled in around the roots. Tristan stamped down the soil. Heath stepped back to look at it.

“Okay?” Tristan asked.

“It needs to be a foot to the left.”

“Very funny.”

“It looks…different. Better. Less sorry for itself. The lights are still in the car. I’ll go and get the decorations.”

Heath went back to the house and took off his boots. By the time he came back with pockets full of condoms and clothes pegs, the tree lights were on. He stopped and stared.

Tristan came to his side. “Weird, right?”

“It has to be the same tree but it looks so much healthier. The branches are less straggly, there are more of them…”

“Maybe it’s just had chance to expand.”

But Tristan looked about as satisfied with that explanation as Heath was. Heath held out handfuls of pegs and condoms. Tristan laughed, but took them.

“Don’t peg the same colours together,” Heath said.

“What if the vicar arrives with carol singers?”

“Exactly! We don’t want them criticizing our colour choices.”

Tristan’s shoulders shook as he laughed.

Finally, the condoms were all hung on and the tree looked amazing—from a distance.

“Snowmen!” Heath said. “A circle of them around the tree. At least seven.”

“Fine.”

Heath had made tiny snowmen before, but never rolled snow into large balls. Tristan showed him how to do it, how to turn them, then stack them.

“This is amazing!” Heath beamed at him. “It’s so much fun. We can make a whole snow army!”

“Hmm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s harder work that you might think.”

“You don’t think I’m up to it?”

Tristan hugged him. “I think you can do anything you like. I’m just warning you that a snow army is a touch ambitious.”

After constructing three snowmen, Heath had had enough. “You’re right. You know me so well.” Much better than Diego ever had. Heath let out a shaky sigh.

Tristan found carrots for their noses and dark stones from a bag in his garage for eyes and mouths, and Heath thought they looked great.

“I found something else in the garage,” Tristan said. “Are you feeling energetic?”

“Do I need to take off my clothes?”

“No. Wait there.”

Heath laughed when Tristan came back with two sledges.

“Er… Is this going to be a Mount Everest type of slope or a gentle hill?”

“Does it matter? All this snow could be gone tomorrow. This could be now or never. Don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yes, then.” Heath wished he’d said yes straight away.

They each had a sledge and it was easy to pull them down the road into the village. The road had been ploughed as Tristan had said, though snow still covered it. The only vehicles around were hidden under thick white blankets.

“Am I using Grant’s sledge?”

“No. I bought both of them. Grant wasn’t interested.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been sledging,” Heath said. “I might have with my mum and dad, but I don’t remember.”

Tristan reached out with his gloved hand and patted Heath’s arm.

Heath put a smile on his face. No more sad thoughts . “The village looks lovely. Interesting old houses, a pub, a couple of shops, Christmas lights. Is your business nearby?”

“Five miles away.”

“That’s handy. How many employees do you have?”

“Fifteen.”

“What’s the business called?”

“Zepheco.”

Heath stopped as he turned to look at him and the sledge slid into the back of his boots. “Zepheco?”

Tristan nodded.

“Oh my God. Your company won that energy prize about six months ago. I saw it on the TV.” He started walking again.

“You’ve got a good memory.”

“Wow! I’m seriously impressed. You came up with that concept for producing energy from fencing panels. If only I had a fence… You know what? I’ll buy one. I was wondering what to buy my aunt.”

Tristan laughed. “Turn left. The hill is just up there. It’s private land but the owner doesn’t mind little kids and bigger kids sledging on it.”

Heath swallowed when he looked up and saw how steep the hill was. There were already lots of adults and children on the slope. Some at the top, most halfway down and moving fast. The snow had been flattened and sledges were travelling at speed. He’d longed to do this when he was in care, but he’d never lived anywhere with a hill, let alone with enough snowfall to make this possible.

“It’s a bit of trek up,” Tristan said.

“Are we going all the way to the top?”

“Yes.”

Heath trudged up after Tristan, listening to the whoops of delight as riders whizzed past them. He had to stop halfway to catch his breath before he followed Tristan to the ridgeline. The view was spectacular in all directions, the world turned monochrome, apart from the bright jackets of those sledging.

“Want to race?” Tristan asked.

“Okay.”

“Steer to the right and we’ll get a clear run down. Ready, steady… go!” Tristan launched himself face down on the sledge and Heath copied him, trying to stay in the tracks Tristan left behind. He assumed steering was a case of leaning, but he overdid the lean the first time, found himself heading for a group of kids and adjusted his course so abruptly, he fell off and started to roll.

Heath wasn’t alarmed to start with but when he didn’t stop and found himself gathering speed, he panicked. He had snow in his mouth, up his back and as he slithered to a halt, he lay still, trying to work out if he’d broken anything. Why wasn’t he breathing?

“Heath!”

That was Tristan, right next to him. Then Tristan was kissing him and Heath managed to somehow suck air from Tristan’s mouth before the kiss continued.

“Is he okay?” a child asked.

“He’s giving him the kiss of life,” said another.

“Isn’t he supposed to hold his nose? And thump his chest? I could do that. We had someone come to school to teach us how to do it.”

Heath opened his eyes and Tristan pulled away.

“You saved him,” said a little boy standing next to Tristan.

Heath pushed to his feet. Nothing was broken.

“Are you okay?” Tristan asked.

“Yes. Let’s have another go.” Heath set off back up the hill.

Did he really want another go? No, but no way was he saying that.

After another run down, this time without wiping out, he understood how exciting this was. The only downside was having to trek up once they’d ridden down.

Tristan’s eyes were shining, his cheeks red. “Want to try standing up?”

Hell no. “Yes.”

They both fell off the first time, but eventually, they managed to get to the bottom safely. Tristan high-fived him.

“We’ve started a trend,” Tristan said.

“What? Kissing?”

Though Heath could guess. He looked back up the slope to see several teenagers coming down standing up.

“Want to quit while we’re ahead?” Tristan asked. “Pub lunch on the way back?”

“Yes. How come you know exactly the right thing to say?”

“I do?”

“You do when you’re talking to me.”

Tristan smiled.

Everyone in the pub seemed to know Tristan, judging by the number of greetings, and Heath swallowed hard under the deluge of curious looks he received.

“Are they wondering who I am and where I buried Grant?” Heath whispered as they sat in the corner.

Tristan chuckled. “Grant wouldn’t eat in here. He insisted on driving to Worcester. Or rather getting an Uber to Worcester.”

“But it’s lovely!”

“It is. Even though Grant wouldn’t come in here to eat, we did come in for a drink so they’re probably wondering who you are. Let’s show them.” Tristan leaned over and kissed him.

Heath hadn’t really been into PDAs, though that was more because he’d never been with a guy who was likely to show any affection in public. Well, not to him. Diego clearly had no such issues with Benny.

Tristan sat back in his chair and smiled at Heath. “Now they know we’re together.”

Heath felt bad he’d even had a thought about Diego while Tristan was kissing him. Don’t do that any more. But please kiss me again.

“You look shellshocked.”

“I’m happy.” Heath nudged Tristan’s thigh with his knee.

“You’re easily pleased.”

No one else had ever thought so. Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe it took this man to change me.

They had French onion soup with cheesy croutons and homemade wholemeal bread, and it was delicious. As was the beer. The pub had been over-decorated with Christmas garlands and a lot of tinsel— ugh— really not Heath’s favourite decorating material, but it still looked great. Everyone was happy and smiling and Christmas music was being piped around the room.

It was only when Heath caught sight of a couple exchanging presents that his heart stuttered. Shit! Tomorrow it was Christmas Day and he had nothing to give Tristan, apart from himself. If only I had a pack of bows. Heath frowned. Hadn’t he seen bows in the wardrobe in the spare room? He was pretty sure he had.

As they walked back to the house, gloved hand in gloved hand, pulling the sledges behind them, snow started to fall. Heath wanted to take a picture but he was frightened of jinxing the moment.

Clearly, Tristan wasn’t. He held up his phone in front of them and hugged Heath. “Say yes.”

Heath laughed.

“I’ve had more fun since I found you in the bath than I ever had with Grant,” Tristan said quietly. “Thank fuck he said no to me. What a lucky escape. I can’t even get my head around what I must have been thinking.”

Heath had been wondering about that. “It can’t have been all bad.”

“You’re right. It wasn’t. But I made too many excuses for him and I know better.”

“Are you worried about making the same mistake twice?” Heath sucked in a breath. “Forget I said that. Obviously, you won’t. You’ve probably decided brief flings with swamp monsters are much safer.”

“I’m not a brief fling sort of guy. Are you? This is the time that no is the right answer.”

Heath’s heart jumped. “No. I don’t want this to be a brief fling.”

“Nor do I.”

“Let’s hurry back. I am so turned on. I said no and it was the right thing to say for once.”

Tristan kissed him on the cheek and they moved faster.

Back at the house, they both slid to a halt on the drive.

“What the hell?” they said at the same time.

The tree was taller, fuller and appeared to have more lights on it. Though not more condoms.

“It’s impossible,” Heath whispered. “I mean there’s no way it could have grown.”

“Someone’s messing with us.”

“There are only our footprints on the lawn.”

“If I suddenly hear sleighbells ringing, I am going to freak out.”

“Not bells,” Heath whispered. “I can hear singing though. Can’t you?”

Tristan’s eyes widened. He dragged Heath up to the house, pushed him inside and closed the door.

“What is it?” Heath whispered.

“Carol singers.”

“On Christmas Eve?”

“There’s a group that walk through the village on the way to the church for an early service for the kids.”

“You didn’t think to tell me that before I hung condoms on the tree?”

They stood against the door staring into each other’s eyes as the sound of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen grew louder.

“They’re outside the bloody door,” Heath muttered.

Tristan pulled him down so they sat side by side, backs to the wood. Heath unzipped his jacket and peeled it off.

We Three Kings replaced the Merry Gentlemen and Heath took off his boots. Tristan did the same. When Heath peeled off his sweater and T-shirt, Tristan gulped. Heath raised his eyebrows and off came Tristan’s fleece and T-shirt.

“They won’t knock and ask for money will they?” Heath whispered.

Tristan pulled ten pounds out of his wallet and pushed it through the letterbox.

“Thank you! Merry Christmas!” someone shouted.

“ We Wish You a Merry Christmas…”

Heath couldn’t wait for that particular song to end. He started pulling at Tristan’s clothing and Tristan did the same to him. When they were finally naked, Tristan wove his fingers into Heath’s hair so he couldn’t move, not that he wanted to. Heath was lying on the floor amidst a jumble of clothes, with Tristan plastered to him.

“Upstairs,” Tristan whispered.

“Too late.”

Mouths together, they came in each other’s hands and it was glorious.

They were in bed when the clock ticked past midnight.

“Happy Christmas,” Tristan whispered.

“Happy Christmas.”

Heath cuddled against him, pillowing his head on Tristan’s shoulder and running his fingers through the hairs on his chest. He was afraid to put his hand on Tristan’s heart. Was it beating as furiously as his own? Did Tristan feel this too? Heath knew it was too fast, that when they’d met, they’d both been falling, and they’d caught each other but… I want this. I want him.

So tell him!

But neither of them spoke and Heath realised from the sound of his breathing that Tristan had fallen asleep. Heath waited until he was sure Tristan was sleeping before he moved. He slipped out of bed, pulled on Tristan’s dressing gown, retrieved all the bows from the bottom of the wardrobe and put them in the bathroom cupboard. Then he went downstairs, because he’d thought of something else he could do.

He searched out a glass jar with a screw top, along with a few sheets of paper and a pencil. Once he’d cut the paper into strips, he sat and sucked the pencil as he considered what to write. When he’d finished one message, he folded the paper and slipped it into the glass jar. Most of the things he wanted to say were quick to write and he smiled to himself as he dropped them in one by one.

Then he went back upstairs and hid the jar.

Tristan woke as Heath slid in next to him, but after he’d wrapped himself around Heath, Tristan drifted back to sleep. He’d never know that something so simple had made Heath cry. There was no moan about Heath having woken him up, no elbowing him away. Why had he ever thought Diego was the one? Well, he knew why. He’d been flattered. Diego had been fun to start with. Love-bombing him. Overwhelming him. Heath hadn’t really noticed the way their relationship gradually changed for the worse. He’d struggled for so much of his life to find someone who’d love him, he’d not seen the truth. Diego had used him.

I want to say yes to Tristan no matter what he asks. Heath mentally changed that to almost no matter what he asked. Maybe Heath wasn’t the negative person he’d thought he was. Rather it was more down to his circumstances and company that had made him draw that conclusion.

It was eight on Christmas morning when Tristan opened his eyes. Heath was still sleeping next to him. Tristan didn’t want to let him go back to London. How difficult would it be to persuade him to stay?

He’d never fallen so hard and so fast in such a short time. His head told him not to take risks, and in his job, he didn’t. He was careful and measured. He was an engineer. But in his heart, he was a chance-seizer, a risk-taker who didn’t want to let opportunities pass him by.

Heath opened his eyes and blinked.

“Happy Christmas,” Tristan said.

“How can it be? I’m not tied to the headboard.”

Tristan laughed. “Tell me how and I’ll do it.”

The headboard was made of padded material.

“When we’re back in the other room, okay?” Tristan said and kissed him. “Happy Christmas.”

“Mmm. Happy Christmas. I need the bathroom. One minute.”

It was more than one minute but when Heath came back in covered in foil bows, Tristan snorted with laughter.

“You’re my present?” Tristan asked.

“I do have another but maybe you’d like to unwrap this one first. Careful with the strategically placed ones.”

That turned out to be twenty minutes of fun. As Tristan took them off Heath, Heath stuck them on Tristan and within moments, they were chasing each other around the bedroom until he pinned Heath down. Had Heath got a little kink for being held down, and tied up? Tristan had Heath’s wrists held above his head and his eyes were glazed.

“I like it when you’re all bossy,” Heath whispered and leaned up to kiss him.

“Good.”

It was two hours before they woke again.

“Now you can have your other present.” Heath leaned out of the bed and reached under it. He pulled himself back up holding a jar.

“I think I recognise that.”

“Yes, it is yours but the contents are the presents. You can take a few out and read them but you have to fold them and put them back, then only pull out one at a time. One per day. I was hoping to do 365 but I got too tired so there aren’t that many. Plus, I thought you’d think maybe it was a bit presumptuous. We might only last 364 days.”

“Not a short-term fling, remember?”

Heath nodded.

Tristan took out a handful of folded up bits of paper and read them. “Blowjob, hand job, yes, hand wash, yes, yes, yes, I fuck you, yes, you fuck me, rimming…” He groaned. “Yes, yes, yes, possibly yes.” The possibly made him laugh. “Blindfold, handcuffs, yes, yes, dogging?? Bloody hell? Seriously? Yes! Piking? Do you even know what that is?”

Heath shrugged. “Not as risky as dogging.”

“Sex in front of the fire, yes, edging, rimming, yes, washing up, washing you…” Tristan laughed again. He put all the pieces of paper back into the container. “That’s brilliant. Thank you.”

“Now you can take one out and give it to me.”

Tristan handed him one of the slips.

Heath opened it. “Clean your shoes.”

Tristan snatched the paper back. “It does not say that.” But when he read it, it did.

Heath was clearly struggling to keep a straight face. “Okay, I did have that one ready to give you. Pick another.”

“It says yes. ”

“Then whatever you ask me to do, I have to say yes.”

“Can I save it for a few minutes?”

Heath nodded.

“I’m not sure you’ll think my present is as much fun as yours. Well, it’s a present with three parts.”

Heath leaned up on his arm and waited.

Tristan mentally crossed his fingers. “Would you like to work with me? My dad currently helps with my accounts. But I know he and my mum would like to spend more time travelling now they’ve retired. I need someone who can be more proactive in looking for ways for us to raise money too. Plus, look into government grants, subsidies, tax breaks and things like that.”

Heath’s jaw had dropped.

“I wrote down the salary. I didn’t want to say it and you laugh at me. I don’t know what you were earning before.” He pushed a piece of paper towards him.

Heath shoved it back without even looking at it. “Yes. I’d love to work with you.”

“Don’t you care about the salary?”

“Sometimes the right job is more important. As is who you work with. What’s the second part?”

“Would you like to move in here with me?”

Heath gulped. He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“I know it’s fast. But… I also know it’s right. Tell me you feel the same.”

“Yes. Neither of those yeses were the one you picked from the jar. They were easy yeses. Ask me something difficult. I want to test myself.”

“Will you come and meet my parents?”

Heath whined. “Yes. When though? In three years? Three months?”

“In a few days.”

Heath took a deep breath. “Oh. Yes. I’m so brave.”

Tristan smiled. “The third part is this. He handed Heath a sheet of paper.

“Look after penguins for the day at London Zoo! Really?”

“I thought I could do it too.”

Heath gulped. “Thank you. That’s fantastic.”

Tristan put his hand back in the container. “It’s Christmas. I want one more from the jar.” He unfolded the piece of paper and smiled. “Does dogging involve buying a dog?”

Heath gulped. “Possibly. We might need to walk one to have an excuse if the police turn up.”

“How about we settle for sex in the car?”

“In some incredibly isolated spot that no one is ever likely to visit?”

“Yes.”

“Not dogging at all.”

Tristan laughed. “We’ll work up to Tesco’s car park.”

“We do need to practise.”

And they did. But not in the car. It was too cold.