Christmas Comes to Fruition
Part One
I gotta say that despite how happy I was that Owen and Mark hit it off – I mean knocked it out of three ballparks judging by the grins on their faces when they came back to the room the next morning – I felt kinda cranky. It bummed me out because I just wanted to celebrate with Mark, celebrate...I don't know. Sexual liberation? Something like that. But over the following days, I felt bitchy and had to keep my mouth shut. Little things pissed me off. My coffee was too hot, I ran out of clean socks, the big paper I wrote on Conceptions of Being only got a 95...what was wrong with me?
November loomed, came and was over. Mark and I bore down on work, stayed up too late reading or working on papers. A couple of times we had a casual jerk-off together with some nice porn...and about that. We had fun and all, and it felt nice to jack together, all easy and friendly, but Mark seemed...I don't know...a little distant. Like he was working out this really hard problem in his head the whole time he was pulling his meat.
This thing with Owen seemed to have fizzled out which I didn't understand at all. No way. I thought for sure they would have a thing together beyond getting it on once. And he didn't seem interested in hooking up with anyone, really.
So I wonder if what was making me cranky was feeling shut out. That this awesome friendship I thought we had was cooling. I know that happens, I know friendships change and all that, but this one? I thought we were solid. He was my people, right?
December set in and got going and the term ended. We turned in our papers, we wrote some exams, we broke a world record or two in how much coffee someone can drink in a single day. So Mark and I slept for a couple of days after all that.
Just before the second week of December, as I was trying to figure out when I would be leaving for the holidays, Owen called me. He had a brilliant idea which made me happy.
“Say Sam, why don't we invite Mark to come with us over the break? You said he probably would rather not go home so why not bring him along? What do you say?”
“Dude! You are the best brother in the universe. I was thinking about that too, but wasn't sure if you would be into it.”
“Why wouldn't I be? It's not like Mark and I are dating. It would just be very cool for the three of us to hang in the country and the Parents would totally be down with it.”
I looked over at Mark who was dozing on his bed. I threw a book across at him and he jolted up, looking way confused. “Guess what?”
He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head like I was an idiot. “What?”
“You are totally coming to Perth with us for Christmas. No arguments. Owen says so.”
Mark gave me the strangest smile. Like the kind of smile a parent gets when their kid thinks they have figured something out but really they have no idea what they're talking about. What's was with him?
“Yeah, awesome. I'd love to. Thank Owen for me,” and his little smiley-smile got even weirder.
I just shook my head and said to Owen, “We're in dude! Are you going to pick us up?”
The Parents live in Ottawa, so they would come separately, but Owen was renting a car and driving from Toronto. Very nice. I was stoked. I got off the phone with Owen and turned to Mark.
“This Saturday, Mark. We're getting out of here. We're going to have the best time. My mom cooks a mean turkey and we'll eat until we drop. They're headed to Europe on Boxing Day so we'll have the place just the three of us for the next week or so...as long as we want.”
Mark grinned his technicolour grin and said, “That sounds amazing. Thanks for having me. I really appreciate it.”
You know when someone says something and you get the feeling what they're saying actually means something completely different. That's how Mark sounded. But whatever it was, it was sincere, so I left it. Who knows? Maybe he was glad to get away from James.
We spent the next few days shopping for stuff. Christmas shopping stresses me out like nothing else and Mark was amazing. He totally calmed me down and I manage to get some stuff that I knew would work for everyone. I got him some awesome underwear because his was...how shall I put this...lame. I mean, I'm no model, but I like a good pair of boxers, or briefs. Mark's were like...from the last century or something. I think he'll really like them.
I told Owen the next day as we made our final arrangements: noon Saturday. “You bought him underwear. Nice underwear.” Then there was a silence on the other end of the line. What the fuck? What was the big deal about underwear?
He cleared his throat like he was about to deliver some kind of address to accountants. “That's really thoughtful, Sam. What kind of underwear?”
“Well you know, the kind gay dudes wear. Like all snug and in nice colours. You get off on that stuff.”
“Good choice, Sam. Really good choice. I know he and maybe some other people will appreciate them.”
“Right? That's what I'm saying. They're as much for everyone else as they are for him.”
“That's right Sam. For everyone else as well...”
Again with the tone. Fuck him. I decided to play our old game instead. “What did you get me, huh?”
He played right along. “You think I got you something?”
“Well I sure as fuck didn't get you anything. Were we exchanging presents this year? I thought we weren't.”
“Oh well, next year.”
We both laughed and it felt really nice. It's nice to play the same games you've been playing for years. It's like a little a comforting ritual.
Owen drove up right on schedule and we packed up the car. It's amazing how much shit you need for the holidays. Bags of presents, booze, food, clothes. Mark and I had books, Owen had some grading to do for his Masters teaching job. You'd think we were going for months.
The drive to Perth was snowy, and not in a, oh fuck we're going to totally crash the car into something, kind of way, but more of a, look at all the sparkly snow falling everywhere, kind of way. It was really fucking nice.
We got to the house in good time and unloaded. The Parents were gracious, as always. Remember, they weren't always like that. When we were kids it was kind of like Christmas roulette to see what sort of state they would be in by Christmas Eve. But now, they were like royalty. I had to hand it to them, they totally pulled it together and worked their fucking asses off to make things right between them, and more importantly, with us. And we forgave them. How could we not?
We settled Mark into a one of the spare rooms next to mine and Owen had his down the hall. These were the same ones we had as kids. Did I forget to mention this is not, say, a “cottage”. Don't be deceived if I gave you the that impression. There's like six bedrooms. The living room is a small country. That kind of thing. You know the word 'privilege'? It gets bandied about a lot these days. Well, a picture of our family is beside the entry for it in most dictionaries. Sorry if I led you on. Owen and I just make fun of it. That's a privilege too.
Anyway...the Parents made us a nice dinner and we all had too much wine. Well, not the Parents. See above comment about them working they're asses off, etc. But the three of us were pretty toasted by the end of the meal and, after a quiet hang by the fireplace, we all turned in.
What I love about the place, I mean one of things I love about it, is how amazingly quiet it is. In the winter at night you can lie there in bed and the dark is so dark it's beyond any conception of dark or light and the quiet is like a fucking presence. It just hangs there, deafening. I get all eloquent when I talk about it. Did you notice? But I'm a shitty poet so this is as far as I can go.
I slept for a while, then woke up in the dark (see above) and had to pee. When I got back to bed, I decided I needed to attend to the fucking hard-on that sat there glaring at me. I wished suddenly Mark was there cause it would be way fun to share the joy. Oh well. I managed just fine on my own.
Christmas Day was amazing. We all got up early and went for a walk in the snowy woods, my parents all handsy with each other like they were in high school. Mark and I walked without saying much, Owen not far behind. There were blue jays making their fusty hinge kind of noise, there were squirrels and sun on the snow. It felt like some kind of nice movie, all violins and flashbacks. And I didn't want it end. I had a thought, so I turned back to Owen whose head was down. “Hey, brother. Why don't we start planning an awesome New Year's dinner with all the fixins. We haven't done that in years.
Owen gave me a look that I couldn't figure out. He seemed to be thinking through something, like how to reduce pollution or some crap like that. He sighed and said, “Well...sure. I was planning to go home tomorrow with the parents, but...” and he looked at Mark, kind of shaking his head. What was that all about? Mark gave him a shrug back and we kept walking.
We ate a ton and drank probably too much again, and I dragged my boys out for a few smokes and by eleven the three of us had passed out in front of the fire. I woke up and the fire had gone, so I poked the boys and we hauled our sorry selves to bed. Just before I went into my room, Owen stopped me and gave me a hug. A nice long one and said, “Nice Christmas, brother. I bet it's going to get nicer.” I wasn't sure what the hell that meant, but I didn't have the brains to figure it out so bed it was.
I woke up and Mr Sun had decided to visit me and blast into my face. My bed was hot and I was sweaty and my head...well it was just a tiny bit sore. Nothing serious.
After I hauled myself out of bed, found some track pants and a t-shirt, I stumbled into the hall. I could tell the other two were still asleep and, when I glanced at my parents' door, that they were long gone to catch their flight from Toronto.
So I made some breakfast for everyone, feeling all domestic and comfy: pancakes and bacon and that stuff that's bad for us. Mark walked in first and I had to laugh at his epic bedhead and those pyjamas he has: really old school.
“Hey Mark. Get some coffee in you. You look like you've been running a marathon.”
He grunted and found a mug just as Owen came into the kitchen in a similar state. But we had a nice breakfast, just the three of us. The sun was warming everything and we talked easily and happily. I looked out the window a few times at the trees covered in snow. It felt like the best times from our childhood and believe me when I say there were some, but not very many. I looked down at these two sleepy dudes and I felt a ton of affection. How nice is that?
When we had done with breakfast and cleaned up, we sat in the living room in front of the fire that I totally banked up. I wanted it really blazing. It's the best feeling to have a big fire on the holidays: it's feels so safe and ancient and right.
Sometime around lunch, Owen got up and went upstairs. He came back, all dressed and said, “Hey guys...you want anything in town? I need to do some last minute stuff I...forgot about...you know...things I meant to bring, a new laptop chord. Stuff like that. You need anything?”
I looked at my brother, wondering what the hell he was talking about. I mean Perth is only a few minutes away, but what the fuck? Why would you throw a wrench into such an amazing day.”
“Owen, do it later, man.”
He actually looked uncomfortable, then said, “Nah. I need to. And I think I need some alone time. You get it, right?”
I did get it, but I still wasn't convinced. But who was I to get in the way of his mental health. “Sure, Owen. Have a nice drive.”
He looked at Mark and said, “I'll probably be a two or three hours...I want to check out the neighbourhood.”
Mark just nodded like he knew what all this meant. How could he? I didn't.
Once Owen left, we settled into the sofa watching the fire, listening to its cozy fire sounds, the smell of woodsmoke making me feel slightly high. We stared at the flames for a while, just sailing on our thoughts then Mark cleared his throat. “Uh...Sam...I gotta say something.”
That sounded serious. I felt a weird buzz in my stomach. What was going on? He pulled himself a little closer to me. Like really close. I was sitting cross-legged and my knee was touching his thigh. I don't know why I noticed that, but I did.
He took a few deep breaths and looked at me. “I'm going to kiss you Sam, and I hope you'll let me.”
My mind went blank. He was what? But the thought didn't have the effect I thought it would. I didn't get all outraged. I didn't try to stand up. I didn't try to talk over him. I just sat there. Looking at him. Then I had a another thought. I'm not stupid. I may be dense sometimes, but I do know some shit. Why had Owen left us alone? But that's as far as I got.
Mark leaned in really close. His face was so close our noses were almost touching. I could feel his breath gently brushing my cheeks. His eyes were like fucking ocean diamonds. I knew they were intense, but I hadn't realized how...beautiful they were. He moved a little closer and our noses were in contact, just barely touching. His mouth opened just a little bit, but his eyes never wavered from mine. He moved a bit more and our lips just brushed, then bounced back, then touched a little more firmly and I didn't stop this, I didn't move back. I just reduced what I could be aware of in the whole fucking universe to the feeling of his lips and that laser beam from his eyes. It was the most intense feeling I have ever had.
He leaned back, looking at my face, his eyes seeing right into my fucking mind. A third time his face came closer and our lips pressed very lightly, then a bit more and I had to open my mouth a bit, I just had to, and he did the same. I could feel him breathing into my mouth and fuck, it was an amazing feeling. I started to feel a little buzz in the back of my head, a little sound that got a bit louder and I opened my mouth a bit more and our heads angled a bit differently and what was now a full-on kiss took on a shape, and we changed positions and did it again from another angle.
This was...so unexpected...so...amazing. This was Mark. I opened my mouth now, fully opened it, and remembered I had a tongue. I remembered how to use it. I slowly brought it forward past my teeth, past my lips that were connected to his lips and met his tongue. At first lightly, then I ran the tip of mine over his, feeling the soft surface of it and it was like my whole body was suddenly plugged into something warm, and electric.
To say I had never kissed before would be lame. I had and with Mandy it sometimes felt like this, but also totally not like this. Because this was Mark, and when his tongue joined mine in a nice, wet conversation, things really went to a new plateau. I kept thinking – in fact the only thing I was thinking – was: this is Mark. Just Mark. I felt his hand out of nowhere on the back of my neck, all warm and gentle. Without a thought, I slid my arm around his torso and pulled him closer. I pulled my legs out of being crossed so they were back on the floor and Mark leaned over to me and I very slowly, softly, slid backward so I was lying on my back looking up. I was lying there as he lay down on top of me and for the first time I felt his whole body touch mine and you know what? A crazy puzzle that I had been trying to find the solution for suddenly put itself together. I had wanted to feel him like this the whole fucking time.
The other feeling I had was the feeling of his cock pressing really hard into mine and mine was pressing right back. It's not like I hadn't noticed I was hard, but feeling his made me realize just how hard mine was. We both, almost at the same time, starting grinding into each other. Something about the grinding got some adrenalin into our make-out session and things got more focused. Our tongues were learning a new language together.
I slid my hands down his back, feeling his strength, feeling those muscles that I had noticed, but didn't understand why I had noticed them. But now I did. I pulled his shirt up and felt his skin which was warm and smooth and so, so amazing. I kept pulling his shirt up until he was forced to sit up and let me pull it off. He was smiling and this smile of his, this incandescent Mark smile was aimed at me, it was for me. That was blowing my mind.
He reached for my sweatshirt and slid it up while lifting me at the same time, so he could haul it over my head. Then our chests were in contact and our mouths and tongues resumed their explorations. But now there was all this skin. I pulled him over so we were on our sides and I started a little journey with my lips, kissing my way down his neck and over his collar bone, exploring his shoulder, licking the light fur in his armpit, sucking patches of skin on the way to his chest, to his nipples which were not like a woman's and I didn't want them to be. They were his nipples and I starting to feed on them, sucking and biting and driving my mouth on them. His taste was like...nothing I had ever tasted.
Some words were forming in my head that wanted out, so I moved up so I was looking into those deep fucking pools of his eyes and said, “This is you. Mark this is you. How can this be you and how did I just fucking notice it?”
I could tell he was at a loss for words, so instead I brought my mouth back to his, tasting his answer. At least it felt that way. I felt his hands on my chest, feeling my hair, gliding over my own nipples so lightly and continued to slide down over my belly and effortlessly slid into my track pants, sliding right down under what felt like the hardest cock I had ever had. He lifted his hands and pulled down at the same time, sliding then past my cock, my balls, down my thighs and he reached down and pulled them right off. I was naked. With Mark.
I decided to mirror what he did, and I brought my hands to his smooth and firm ass – why had I not noticed that before? - and pushed under the surface of his pyjamas and slid them off, feeling his powerful thighs. I threw the pyjamas across the room. He laughed into my neck and now, completely naked, it was as if we started all over again. Oh my fucking God. He felt like...well, I guess he felt like the way Mark would feel and I think I had always known he would feel this way. I found myself tearing up like some cheesy movie with violins but I knew that this was our cheesy fucking movie we were making, so get over it.
But there was a job to be done, because our cocks were telling us all about it. They were wrestling with each other, trying to be harder than the other, trying to get something done, for fuck's sake. I could feel that we were getting wet, our cocks were drooling and it was getting slippery and sweaty and really nice. Oh right, that's what I should do...
I made my way with my mouth and my tongue down past his chest, past his soft, taut belly, past his belly button that I poked my tongue into and then I suddenly found my mouths on the tip of his cock, his amazing cock that I had already thought was amazing, but couldn't actually know was amazing until right now as I pulled my mouth over the head, my tongue digging into the slit, tasting him. Him. That was what was fucking with my head. I was tasting him. Not just jerking with him, hanging with him. But having his dick in my mouth and tasting that essence of Mark-ness. Holy fuck.
I could feel his hands in my hair, feel them slide down and caress my jaws, my cheeks. He felt his own cock as it slid out of my mouth, gripping it as it slid back in. I sucked him, not just went down on him, I inhaled the end, tasting more salt, something tangy and sweet and I wanted more. I ran my hand over his balls, massaging up to the base of his cock, kneading and I kept tasting him. I didn't think I could stop, but I was running out of air so I slowly pulled me head away, breathing.
He was still caressing my face and I watched his heartbeat in his dick, giving it a tiny quiver each time it pumped. I had never been so close to another cock in my life. And the smell. It was forests and wetlands and spice all in one.
I crawled back so we were face to face and he kissed me again, and then again, then he got up and looked down at me. His cock was jutted out of that light hair. I wanted it back in my mouth, but before I could, he said, “I have to get...something.”
Totally naked, he ran upstairs and he came back a bit more sedately with a little bottle of lube in his hand. Of course he had lube, what else? Oh, wait. Things were about to get real.
He sat back down on the sofa and put the little bottle between us. I looked into his face and a little panic button in me got pushed. He said, “I want you to fuck me.”
“I'm going to...fuck you?” We were right on the edge of a big fucking cliff. Could I? I mean the fucking part I got, but him?
I was distracted by that smile of smiles, then he said, “That's the plan. But Sam, first I want to tell you what I want...which is I want you in me without a condom. Can that happen?”
OK, so my circuits? They were about to blow. He wanted me to fuck him and he wants it bareback. “Uh, just give me a minute...” and in answer, he leaned down to my cock – which was, despite the freak-out in my head, still hard and slippery – and sucked the end. And it calmed my head down. Or pulled the blood from my head down there, to where his tongue was playing with the end of my dick. I thought about the two things he asked me.
Well first I had a total internal blaze of excitement. Of course I wanted to fuck him bareback! My first guy fuck with a guy I want nothing more than to fuck. And I did want to. I knew it like I knew how to breathe.
But I got his point. I thought a moment, thought about who I had fucked and how and when. That girl recently. Mandy. There wasn't anyone else since...I got tested last spring, I suddenly remembered. Owen made me just so I was being responsible or some shit like that.
So I grinned my best grin and I pulled his head out of my lap and held his face in my hands. “'That can totally happen.” I kissed him and then I said, “I want to fuck you bareback, Mark. But even more, this will be me fucking you. Can you fucking believe it?”
But this was the hard part...cause this was new territory. Literally. How does this work? I thought back to the videos I had watched over the years. Those guys made it look like riding a bloody bike. I think Mark saw what was going on in my head. Without a word, he lay on his back and spread his legs apart.
His eyes – those fucking eyes – were locked on me, like he was silently cheering me on. I decided to fake it until...well you get it.
I got between his legs, slowly rubbing my hands up his thighs, which were strong and had this light Mark-fuzz on them that I wanted to lick into tomorrow. But my dick was practically on fire I was so hard. At least one part of me was confident. He handed me the lube and it felt almost like some kind of ritual, as if I was about to perform an ancient rite and I suppose, in a way, that is exactly what I was going to do. I poured some lube on my hand, and I suddenly wasn't sure what to do, but he was already there and he took my hand and guided it to this place I had never experienced outside my own life. He gently, but firmly, pushed my fingers in him, in this intimate place, this place that for me was an undiscovered country. Mandy had tried to mess around with each other's butts, but this. This felt way more...I don't know...profound, or something.
He kept pushing my hand deeper and I felt him envelop me and it was like I was being led into the most intimate place in his being, for fuck's sake. I had never felt this way with a woman. This was a choice Mark was making to invite me there, to open to me, to want me there, there. I needed something more, so I kept my fingers gently sliding in his ass and I leaned in and we kissed as if it was the first time again. Right then I had another moment. Because this was the first time. For me at least. And for both of us together. But you know, all this profound stuff was being tempered by the hunger of my cock, the desperate messages my balls were sending to the rest of me: it's time to get fucking. This animal wants to fuck.
So I shook my head and slid my fingers out of him. I poured lube on my dick and stroked a few times to get myself all slippy. I moved a bit forward and aimed my cock for this place in him...I didn't know what to call it. All the names for it seemed so...impersonal. Yeah, a hole, an ass, whatever. This felt different.
I started to rub the end of my cock around and around this little warm place. It felt amazing. My cock was streaming and the more it streamed the more amazing it felt. I put a bit more pressure. Was I delaying or was I making it last longer? Probably both. Fuck it. I pushed a bit more and there was this instant of resistance then I felt him welcome me in. I leaned down and looked into his face as my cock ever so slowly slid into this man who I hadn't let myself imagine he would want me to, or that I would want to. But clearly I had been telling myself a story, a lame-ass story that had blown away like so much dust on a windy day.
I felt my cock reach the end and my balls came to rest on him. My tongue went into his mouth and I took his face in my hands. But I knew that if I was going to do this, I needed some traction, so I sat up and gripped his thighs, those lean, strong thighs so unlike a woman's. I needed to focus and Mark's eyes are probably the best focus in the whole world. How can eyes be that colour? I just stared at him and he stared right back. But my cock interrupted this little segue and told me a few things, so I took an experimental trip into fucking Mark. One slow thrust, then another.
I watched his eyes, but they never wavered. I pushed again, adjusting my grip on his legs which were moist with his sweat. I leaned down and kissed his knee, then licked it, tasting his skin. Mark's fucking skin. Skin I hadn't for one second imagined I would want to kiss, but I know now that imagination is pretty limited sometimes. What is unknown is way sexier, right?
I gave him a few more lengths of me. I manged to lean down and our mouths told secrets, then I sat back and kept going. Like a train slowly getting some steam before it starts to fucking chug. I felt the urge in my nuts, the urge to really pound him, and the fantasy increased the force of my body into his, my dick sliding even faster. I could feel every bit of him holding me, massaging my cock into the next plane of existence for fuck's sake. How had I not know this was possible?
I was almost angry with the time we had wasted, and I decided to use that to fuel my body into moving, increasing the amplitude. I had to brace myself more firmly around his legs, and I licked his other knee, running my tongue up his thigh. I wanted so badly to suck him at the same time as all this but our bodies are just not made to make shapes like that. I licked his neck, slurping his sweat; I kissed his chin, feeling a light stubble on my lips: yet another first. To kiss and feel a roughness, rather than smooth skin. And his taste. His skin tasted like I don't know what, but I wanted more.
We went back to staring at each other and my sweat dripped on his cheeks like the best kind of tears. I licked it off him. I wanted to taste everything about him. But it was hard to hold this while my hips were moving so much, driving my cock hard now, every time I went forward his whole body jerked and I looked down at his cock which was in his fist. I swear to someone that it was glowing, the fucking thing was like an ember after a hot fire. It was wet, his belly was wet with his fucking essence. I wanted to lap it up, but we were beyond that. I was beyond that.
I felt the energy in my whole body suddenly start to rise, to fucking levitate and sheets upon sheets of something way beyond pleasure started to erupt from the centre of me and I shut my eyes as my skin started to feel like it was on fire and a wave, then another took me over. I threw my head back, my mouth wide open but no sound came out and I had to freeze, then wildly fall forward with a huge fuck into him, and then freeze again, then another fuck. I could feel my dick spewing into him, emptying my whole body into him. Into him. Mark.
I gave him one last thrust forward and he cried out and I could feel his hand moving and I took this as an opportunity so I slid myself out of him and leaned down and took the end of his cock in my mouth while he still pumped it with his fist and I felt – at last – his cum pour into my mouth. I realized I had wanted this all along as well. I wanted this. His.
I swallowed and swallowed and he just kept pouring into my mouth. It was sharp and sweet and bitter, just like mine, but it was his. That made all the difference. And now it was in me.
When his cock stopped shotting in my mouth, I let it slide out. I took a breath, and swallowed the last spurt. I moved myself clumsily up to his face and our lips met yet again, our eyes found each other, a groove that felt like it would always be there. Our kisses were soft and slow and there were little pauses in between each one while we seemed to be memorizing each other's eyes. I kissed his nose, his forehead, both cheeks, I kissed the little divot below his nose...I couldn't stop. How could I fucking stop? It was Mark.
He held my face still after a while, and we just kissed. I could tell that we both wanted to say things, but there didn't seem to be words. Maybe there just weren't any. Maybe words were kind of useless at that moment. I turned to look at the fire, which was still burning, warming the room. But I pulled the blanket over us and we wriggled and twisted until our bodies slid together as if they were meant to. My face was tucked into his shoulder and his chin on my head, one arm tucked around his neck...you get the picture. It felt just fine. So incredibly, fucking fine. Because it was Mark.
We dozed off for a little while and woke when I heard the door open and Owen came back in. He was standing there with a huge smile on his face.
“See what happens when I go away? It's like you two were waiting for the chance.”
I sat up, and I couldn't help but grin at him, the fucker. “You planned this whole damn thing.” I looked at Mark who was waking up, then back at Owen. “Thanks, brother. You're the best.”
“I am, right? Now you might want to put some clothes on. Just a thought.”
