by Lorelei
Alex gazed at Fox's face, so beautiful in repose, barely visible in the
darkened room. He raised a hand and gently stroked Fox's hair, careful not
to wake him. Walter stirred a little in his sleep. Alex felt Walter move
closer to him, felt the heat of that broad chest against his back, felt that
strong arm tighten slightly around his waist. He sighed and closed his eyes.
This was where he wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of his life,
with Fox and Walter beside him, feeling loved like this, safe like this.
Alex's eyes filled with tears as he listened to his lovers' soft breathing
in the early morning silence. I know I don't deserve this, he thought. But
I'm trying to. I'm trying so hard.
Alex raised his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. The blue
numbers seemed to float eerily in the darkness. 5:37. Alex lay back down.
May as well go back to sleep, he thought. Fox and Walter shouldn't be up for
another couple of hours at least, even on Christmas morning. He closed his
eyes and waited to drift off. It was no use, he was still wide awake. Damn.
He fidgeted a bit, then turned over, careful not to jostle Walter. He
flipped the pillow over to the cooler side, bunched it up just the way he
liked it, then lay his head down with a sigh. A couple more hours of sleep
would do him no harm, and then they could all go downstairs together and
celebrate Christmas. Alex regulated his breathing, taking deep, slow
breaths, waiting for his body to relax. Nothing happened. In fact, his heart
seemed to beat faster, his body becoming more and more alert.
Carefully, Alex turned over onto his back and stared up into the darkness.
He raised his head again and looked at the clock. 5:42. Five minutes later
than the last time he'd looked. He listened to his lovers' measured breaths.
Maybe if he made some noise, maybe coughed a little... he took a deep breath
in preparation for an bout of enthusiastic throat-clearing, but released it
in defeat. He couldn't go through with it. It wouldn't be fair to wake Fox
and Walter so early. It had been nearly one in the morning when they had
finally come to bed. Alex lay between them, his arm crooked beneath his
head, and wondered... what had they been up to last night?
After dinner the night before, both Walter and Fox had suddenly taken on
looks of sly purpose and Alex had been banished to the upstairs bedroom with
an armload of snacks and videotapes. He had made a show of pouting as he
ascended the stairs to dire warnings about staying put and not coming out
until they came for him.
Alex had wiggled his bottom suggestively as he paused to retrieve a fallen
bag of M & Ms. Looking coquettishly over his shoulder, he had lowered his
lashes and poked out his lower lip adorably.
"But I'll be so lonely up there, all by myself in that big bed..."
"Upstairs! NOW!" His lovers had shouted in unison.
"Okay, okay, I'm going," Alex had grumbled good-naturedly. He went into the
upstairs bedroom and dumped his treats on the bed before going to the
bedroom door. If he left it open just a crack, maybe he could hear...
"I didn't hear it click, Alex," Walter's voice carried from halfway up the
stairs.
Alex gulped and closed the door. The latch clicked and in a moment, Alex
heard Walter's footsteps descending the stairs.
Damn, Alex thought as he flopped on the bed. Sometimes he could have sworn
that man was psychic. He sorted through the stack of videotapes Fox had
thrust at him before pointing sternly toward the stairs. "Dirty Harry."
Cool. "Terminator 2." Even better. "The Beginner's Guide to Tantric Yoga."
Alex rolled his eyes and set that one aside. For a supposedly serious guy,
Fox had a funny streak a mile wide.
"Now we're talking..." Alex murmured as he reached the bottom of the stack
of videotapes. Fox had included several James Bond movies, clearly selected
with Alex's tastes in mind. Fox knew that Alex was a purist and believed
that the original Bond was the best Bond.
Alex popped a tape into the VCR and snorted as the opening credits for "From
Russia with Love" began to roll. He rolled his eyes again and made a mental
note to subject Fox to an extensive session of tickling at his earliest
convenience. Alex reached for the bag of M & Ms and tore it open with his
teeth, scattering a few of the brightly colored candies on the coverlet. He
scooped them up absently and tossed them into his mouth, already absorbed in
the action onscreen as Sean Connery's Bond dispatched his enemies with his
usual suave efficiency.
Halfway through the second videotape, Alex began to get restless. He glanced
at the closed bedroom door, his cheeks already flushed with shame at what he
was thinking. He turned back to the movie, but even Clint Eastwood couldn't
tear his attention away from the mysterious goings-on downstairs. He got up
from the bed and moved stealthily toward the door. He hesitated. He
definitely should not be doing this. But, he reasoned as he pressed his ear
against the door, they had told him not to leave the bedroom and he hadn't.
Technically, he was within the rules as they had been provided to him. His
cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and he bit his lip, knowing all too well
how unimpressed Walter would be with that line of logic. Well, he would only
listen for a second. Just enough to assuage his curiosity.
Alex listened intently. Fox's and Walter's voices rose over a background of
crackling paper and the occasional muffled thump. The back door opened and
closed several times. He heard the occasional laugh, heard them speaking in
voices too low to be understood. Suddenly, Walter's voice boomed up the
stairwell.
"Alex? Are you listening at the door?"
Alex's eyes widened and he backed away from the door. He hastily returned to
the bed, wasting no time in lying down and feeling for the remote.
"No, Walter!" he called.
His eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously.
The faint chuckling coming from downstairs deepened his blush.
Alex sighed and turned his attention back to Clint. Damn, it was hard to be
good.
Alex lay now in the darkness, between Walter and Fox, trying to will himself
back to sleep. It wasn't working. The harder he tried, the more awake he
felt. His pulse rate seemed a little faster than normal. He couldn't seem to
keep still. Another look at the clock produced disappointing results. 6:04.
Alex tossed a bit and then settled again, still unwilling to wake Fox and
Walter. Come on, Alex, he scolded himself. You're a grown man, not a little
kid. The presents will still be there when they're ready to go downstairs.
His mind seemed to be running a mile a minute. What had those two gotten up
to? He had more than enough presents under the tree. How many more could
they have bought? Alex closed his eyes again. He opened them a moment later.
He couldn't take it anymore. They had told him not to leave the bedroom last
night. They hadn't said anything about this morning. Cautiously, he slid out
from beneath Walter's arm, careful not to disturb him. He crawled to the end
of the bed, moving carefully, and stood at the foot of the bed. Fox murmured
a little in his sleep, then settled.
Alex's robe was draped across the back of the chair. He reached for it, then
paused. He picked up Fox's robe from where it hung on the closet doorknob
and wrapped himself in it, inhaling Fox's scent. He loved to wear his
lovers' clothes; it made him feel close to them, even when he was alone. He
would happily pad around in Walter's socks, a size too big, or one of Fox's
shirts with the sleeves rolled up, loving the feeling of their clothes
against his skin. They tolerated this well enough, scolding him
halfheartedly when they had to come and retrieve a sweater or a T-shirt that
they had been searching for all morning. Alex tied the sash and stepped into
the hallway, gently pulling the door shut behind him.
The downstairs was darker still, the heavy drapes shutting out all but a
small sliver of pale early morning light. Alex paused at the foot of the
stairs and flipped the light switch. The small lamp on the end table lit up
and the Christmas tree blazed. Walter had strung an extra set of the tiny
twinkling lights this year. "You can never have too many," he'd said, even
as he fussed about extension cords and overloaded outlets. Alex yawned and
rubbed his eyes, then stopped. He blinked in amazement. He rubbed his eyes
again.
"Oh..."
The room was filled with gifts. Beautifully wrapped boxes encircled the base
of the tree, two deep. They lined the wall behind the tree, they were piled
on the sofa, stacked on the chairs. Alex stood motionless, his hand still on
the light switch. His astonished eyes swept the room, taking in every
detail. He could not have known how beautiful he was at that moment, his
wide green eyes sparkling in the light of the Christmas tree, his lips
slightly parted in a classic expression of awe. He could not have known how
much he looked like the little boy he once was. The little boy he had never
truly had a chance to be.
Alex knelt beside the tree, surrounded by a sea of boxes wrapped in red,
green, gold and blue. He gazed at them, careful not to touch, his eyes
widening as he read tag after tag. They all seemed to say the same thing.
"To Alex. We love you. Walter and Fox." A nearby package had been wrapped
with precision, the paper having been folded and then creased, the tape
applied in the exact center of the flap. Alex smiled. That had to be Walter.
Another package beside it caught his eye. The paper was slightly wrinkled,
the ribbon a bit askew. What appeared to be a dozen strips of tape of
varying lengths secured the flaps at irregular intervals. Alex's eyes shone.
That had to be Fox.
Alex knelt by the tree for quite a while, his serious green eyes taking
everything in, as if he were trying to memorize it. As if he were afraid
that if he closed his eyes and opened them again, it would all be gone. He
swallowed past the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off the
dazzling scene. He shook his head in silent wonder, unable to believe that
he had ended up here, with Fox and Walter, after all he had done. They had
done all this, bought these things, wrapped them, for him. All for him. They
thought him worthy of this. Alex looked down, remembering a small, pale boy
with dark hair and green eyes, a boy who dreamed of a morning like this.
Until the day came when he didn't dream anymore. Oh, some of the foster
parents had tried, shoving a gift at him, almost as an afterthought. Socks
and underwear, usually, still in the shopping bag, or a battered toy handed
down from some other unfortunate young boarder. When the boy grew up, he
spent most Christmas mornings working, ensuring the enemies of the
Consortium never saw the New Year. Sometimes, when there was no pressing
assignment, he spent the big day in a bar, drinking until the raw burn of
the vodka chased away the images of the happy families on television, the
carolers, the last-minute shoppers thronging the sidewalks.
Alex remembered the previous Christmas, his first in this house. A Christmas
he had nearly ruined. In those first awkward months, despite Walter's
efforts to include him and the gradual lessening of tensions between himself
and Fox, he still felt like an intruder. An outsider. He had hovered on the
fringes, watching as Fox and Walter unpacked the Christmas things, things he
had never seen before but which to them were familiar treasures, imbued with
memories. Memories he wasn't a part of. He had envied them their intimacy,
their ease with one another, the small touches that passed between them as
they moved about, assembling the Christmas tree and untangling the lights.
Alex had wanted so badly to be a part of it, but he didn't know how.
Allowing his fear and loneliness to get the better of him, he had slipped
out into the frigid night, taking only one change of clothes, leaving the
other things Walter had bought for him behind.
Walter found him sitting in the bus station restaurant, staring at a cold
cup of coffee, his bag on the seat next to him. Had taken him home, despite
his feeble protests. Walter had been silent in the car, Alex huddled
miserably against the passenger-side door. Alex was worried that he had
broken the fragile trust between them, but there was care and concern in
Walter's eyes, a reassuring hand resting briefly on the back of Alex's neck
as they walked into the house.
In deference to the holiday, Walter had delayed their discussion of the
matter until two days later. Alex winced as he remembered the lengthy
session in Walter's study, how his fingers had twisted nervously in his lap
as Walter lectured him at length about running off to God knows where in the
middle of the night with no coat in twenty degree weather. About coming to
Walter and talking about his fears instead of panicking. About how worried
Fox and Walter had been. Alex had nodded numbly, tears in his eyes, knowing
that Walter was right. Knowing that he had made a big mistake. Alex's mouth
had gone dry when Walter reached into his top desk drawer and laid the small
leather-covered paddle in the center of the desk blotter. It was the first
time Walter had used the paddle on Alex.
Alex had tried to be stoic and take his punishment without complaint, but
was sobbing and pleading in minutes as the paddle cracked down across his
bare bottom. Walter had taken his time, reminding Alex frequently of the
reasons for the spanking, and by the time it was over, Alex was sure his
butt was swollen to three times its normal size. Alex bit his lip,
remembering. Remembering the pain in Walter's eyes at the bus station,
remembering the gentle touch of Walter's hand as they entered the house.
Remembering how he had pulled his pants up gingerly over his sore bottom,
remembering how Walter embraced him, wrapped him in those strong arms, told
him it was over, that he had been punished and all was forgiven. That he was
loved. That he knew Alex understood now the consequences of reckless and
inconsiderate behavior. That Alex understood now how much he meant to them.
Alex stood and went to the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. He smiled as
he thought of his lovers, still slumbering upstairs. Those two are in big
trouble, spoiling me like this, he thought. He took out the griddle, careful
not to make too much noise, and arranged half a dozen strips of bacon neatly
along it. He bent down and retrieved two small frying pans from the cabinet
by the stove, remembering that Fox liked his eggs scrambled and Walter liked
his sunny side up. Alex hummed as he cooked, thinking of the sweet penalty
he would exact from his lovers for being so extravagant. After breakfast in
bed, of course. He dipped thick slices of bread in beaten egg, sweetened
with a few drops of vanilla extract, for French toast, his personal
weakness. He placed three plates on a large tray and filled them with the
hot food. He added an artful garnish of orange slices, then filled two mugs
with fresh coffee. Cream and two sugars for Fox, black for Walter. He poured
a small glass of orange juice for himself and placed it on the tray along
with napkins and cutlery. In the absence of fresh flowers, he took the small
snowman figurine from its place on the kitchen counter and added it to the
tray.
Alex carried the tray upstairs and opened the bedroom door. He set the tray
down on the nightstand, gazing at the sleeping men, a smile playing about
the corners of his mouth. It didn't take long for the aroma of bacon and
eggs to rouse Fox. He opened sleepy hazel eyes and ran a hand through his
tousled hair. Alex gazed at him. Damn, but Fox looked sexy as hell first
thing in the morning. Those heavy-lidded eyes, those dusky pink nipples just
peeking above the sheets... Alex licked his lips.
"Merry Christmas, Fox," he whispered. Fox stretched languidly and grinned.
"Merry Christmas to you, Rat."
"I've brought you breakfast in bed," Alex said. "I guess we'd better wake
Walter."
Fox leaned over and kissed Walter's ear.
"Merry Christmas, Walter," he purred.
Alex leaned down and kissed Walter's other ear.
"Merry Christmas, Walter," he said softly. "Joyeux Noel," he added, in
perfectly accented French. "Feliz Navidad, Froliche Weihnachten..."
Walter sat up, scrubbing a hand across his face. He reached for his glasses
on the bedside table.
"Okay, okay," he said, laughing. "Enough with the United Nations. Merry
Christmas, you two." He sat up and arranged the pillow behind his back.
"Mmmm," he said, as Alex placed the tray between them. "That smells
delicious."
"Thanks," said Alex, placing his hands on his hips in a gesture of mock
sternness. "You two were awfully busy last night, weren't you?"
Fox nibbled at a piece of bacon, his eyes wide and innocent.
"Why, Alex," he said guilelessly, "whatever are you talking about?"
"Yes, Alex," Walter said, with just the ghost of a smirk around the rim of
his coffee mug. "Whatever are you talking about?"
Alex rolled his eyes.
"Well, it seems that last night, while you two innocents were looking the
other way, someone sneaked in here and left a huge pile of presents with my
name on them."
"Hmmm," Walter said seriously. "Now that I think about it, I might have seen
someone after all." He took a forkful of eggs and chewed it thoughtfully.
"How about you, Fox? Did you see anyone suspicious last night?"
Fox grinned as he finagled a bite of Alex's French toast.
"Well, now that you mention it, I think I did see someone."
Walter was trying hard not to laugh.
"We'd better get an APB out as soon as possible," he said in his best AD
tone. "Fox, can you describe the... ah... perp?" His solemn expression began
to slip a bit and he began to shake with barely controlled mirth.
"Oh, yes," said Fox, nodding earnestly. "About six foot one, 280 pounds,
white beard, red suit..."
Walter had lost his battle with control and was now laughing so hard the
coffee was sloshing over the rim of his mug.
"Suspect was last seen heading in a northerly direction..."
Fox was giggling madly but still managed to get the words out.
"Suspect is considered round and extremely jolly..."
He clung to Walter, whooping with laughter. Alex stood watching them,
chewing the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing.
"Okay, you two," he said. "I hope you realize that I'm going to have to get
dressed and go out now, see if I can find a store open so I can buy some
more gifts for you."
Walter grabbed Alex around the waist, pulling him into bed, nearly upsetting
the breakfast tray.
"Oh no you don't," he mock-growled, nibbling Alex's neck. "Nobody gets
dressed yet. And you're not going anywhere, young man."
He gently nipped at Alex's ear, licked his way down to a delicate
collarbone.
"You go near that door and you won't sit down for a month."
Alex gasped as his robe was opened and Walter's mouth found a nipple,
licking and sucking it expertly. Alex moaned and arched his back, his cock
rapidly filling as Fox's hand closed around it.
"Take my robe off, Alex," Fox whispered.
It was well after nine a.m. when the three sated, freshly showered men
descended the stairs.
"Well," Walter said, rubbing his hands together briskly, "looks like we've
got our work cut out for us."
Fox went to the kitchen and began clearing the dirty dishes from the
breakfast tray. He filled the mugs with fresh coffee.
"Coffee, Alex?"
Alex knelt by the fireplace and lit the pile of hardwood stacked in the
grate.
"No, thanks," he called. "Could I have some hot cocoa instead?'
"Coming up," Fox replied, rummaging in the cabinet.
"With extra marshmallows?" Alex asked, batting his eyelashes. Walter often
said those eyelashes should be registered as lethal weapons.
Helpless in the face of such an onslaught, Fox sighed and added a double
helping of marshmallows. A few moments later, the three men sat in a circle
on the carpet, their eyes alight with anticipation.
"Well, how should we do this?" Walter asked.
They looked at one another. Grinning, they pounced on the nearest pile of
packages. The room was soon filled the sounds of tearing paper and shouts of
delight and surprise.
"I can't believe it!" Fox shouted, a huge smile lighting up his face. He
held a cellophane-wrapped stack of videotapes, turning it over in his hands
as if it were a rare jewel. He shook his head in disbelief and looked at
Alex with admiration.
"The complete collection of Gamera movies! Alex, how did you know?" He ran
his finger along the side of the package, reading the titles with growing
excitement. "Oh, man, 'Gamera vs. Guiron', 'Gamera vs. Gaos', 'Gamera,
Guardian of the Universe'..." He looked at Alex again. "How did you ever
find these?"
Alex grinned, trying to act nonchalant.
"Oh, you know," he said conspiratorially, "I have contacts all over the
world."
Walter suddenly became very interested in the conversation.
"Alex?" he said, his eyebrows rising.
Alex gulped and looked down, blushing.
"Okay," he admitted hastily. "I found them on ebay."
"Good," Walter said. "That I can live with."
He reached for a large package wrapped in gold foil and read the tag.
"To Walter, love Alex."
He smiled and tore into it. A moment later, a pair of exquisite hand-tooled
leather boots emerged from the tissue paper. Walter's eyes shone as his
fingers caressed the buttery-soft leather.
"Oh, Alex," he whispered. "They're perfect."
Alex beamed. Walter slipped the boots on, groaning with pleasure as they
seemed to mold immediately to a custom fit. He walked around the living
room, no easy task with the growing mounds of discarded wrapping paper and
ribbon.
"Alex, thank you," Walter said, leaning down for a kiss. "I love them."
"I'm glad," Alex answered, his eyes bright. "I wanted to give you something
you'd never buy for yourself."
"You're right about that," Walter said. "I've been wanting some like this
for as long as I can remember and I never got around to buying them."
"Too stingy's more like it," Fox snickered, scampering out of the way as
Walter aimed a swat at his butt.
Walter smiled meaningfully at Alex, then went into the mud room, emerging
with a large box wrapped in red and green paper. Alex flushed, remembering
how that box ended up sequestered in the mud room and how he ended up with a
sore butt. He looked down, ashamed of how he had tried to find out what was
in the tantalizing package, and the way he had gone about it. All that was
forgotten, however, when Walter placed the package on the floor in front of
Alex and stood back, his arm around Fox, both their eyes dancing with
excitement.
Alex stared at his gift, ran his hand along its smooth sides. It was so
beautiful, he almost wished he didn't have to open it. His eyes brimmed with
tears of happiness and gratitude. He had never expected to have anything
like this in his life, like this morning, like these two people who now were
the very center of his heart. For me, he thought, his fingertips gently
fingering the large red bow on the top of the box. He shook his head
slightly, unable to hide his look of awe and disbelief. For me. He looked up
into Walter's kind brown eyes.
"Go on, Rat," he said softly, a world of love in those three words. "Open
it."
Alex took a deep breath and began unwrapping the package. He set the torn
paper aside and opened the box. The only sound in the room was the rustling
of the packing material and Alex's shocked gasp as he saw his gift. His
mouth dropped open and he looked up sharply, utterly at a loss for words. He
looked down again, still unable to believe his eyes. A sleek black laptop,
one he had seen in a catalogue of extremely expensive electronics a few
months before. He had made an offhand comment to Fox about how much he liked
it, but that it was far more than he could afford. Alex dug in the box,
finding package after package of state of the art software. He looked up
into the smiling faces of his lovers.
"I..." Alex shook his head. He had no idea how to express his gratitude.
"It's... I can't believe it, it's exactly what I've wanted," he said, his
eyes filling with tears. "You shouldn't have, it's so much..." he trailed
off, looking around the room at all of the packages yet to be opened. His
eyes filled with tears as the magnitude of what they had done began to truly
sink in. They had filled the room with gifts for him. Alex gazed at Fox and
Walter helplessly, words failing him. He had spent generously on them, it
was true, as generously as he could afford and then some, but it was nothing
even approaching the towering mound of gifts with his name on them. Alex
stood and went to Walter and Fox, who stood watching him with shining eyes.
"Why?" He asked softly. "Why so much? I never expected anything like this. I
don't have as many gifts for you." He looked down, embarrassed.
"We love you," Walter answered softly. "We wanted to give you the Christmas
you never got to have."
Alex looked up, his cheeks wet with tears. The light in his eyes rivaled
that of the Christmas tree in its brilliance and beauty.
"I love you," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "So much. No one..." he
trailed off, swallowing hard. "No one ever did anything like this for me
before." He shrugged helplessly, wiping away an errant tear. "I-I don't know
what to say."
Fox smiled and touched Alex's cheek gently.
"Just say you're happy," he whispered.
Alex smiled, his eyes saying the words before he could.
"I'm happy," he said softly.
Fox wrapped his arms around Alex, stroked his hair. Walter joined in the
embrace, his arms easily drawing the two smaller men close. Alex turned and
buried his face in Walter's chest, clinging to him.
"Love you so," he murmured. "Both of you. My greatest gift, every day, you
and Fox."
"We love you too, Alex," Walter said. "We love you too."
A lock of Alex's dark hair had fallen into his eyes, and Fox gently smoothed
it back. He turned and went to the pile of gifts on the sofa, returning with
a long, rectangular box. He handed it to Alex.
"This one next," he said, grinning. "This one's from me."
"It's heavy," Alex said, kneeling and placing it on the floor. He untied the
huge gold bow and lifted the lid. He pulled back the tissue paper and gazed
at what lay beneath it.
"Ohhh, Fox," he breathed. He set the tissue paper aside. Neatly layered
inside the box were five gorgeous Dolce and Gabbana suits, ranging in color
from dark green to charcoal grey. The shirts and ties that lay precisely
folded at the end of the box had obviously been selected with an expert eye.
"We'll have to pay a visit to the tailor to make sure of the fit," Fox said.
"I made an appointment for us Friday at three."
"Thank you," Alex whispered, touching the fine material reverently. "Fox,
you shouldn't have—"
"Nonsense," Fox answered with a wave. "You've been talking about taking that
big step, getting a legit job in the private sector. These will give you a
competitive edge and some extra confidence. Besides," he added with a sly
grin, "some men are just born to wear Dolce and Gabbana. You're going to
look sexy as hell in those suits."
Alex carefully replaced the tissue paper before putting the lid back on the
box. He looked down for a moment.
"So," he said quietly, looking back up at Fox and Walter. "The black leather
jacket goes?"
"NO!" Fox and Walter shouted, twin looks of horror on their faces.
Walter pointed a finger at Alex.
"Anything happens to that leather jacket, young man," he said sternly, "and
you'll be shopping for another one with a hot butt."
Alex stood and went toward the kitchen, grinning as he did. He looked
seductively over his shoulder, batting his eyelashes and wiggling his rump.
"You know," he purred huskily, "I've been told I've already got a hot
butt..."
"That's it!" Walter yelled.
He chased after Alex, who feinted to the left and dashed back into the
living room, straight into Fox's arms. Walter was right behind him, grinning
madly.
"A hot butt, huh?" He growled, aiming a light swat at Alex's rump.
"Hey!" Alex yelled, laughing. "Cut it out!"
Fox tried to contain his struggling lover, who was in truth not struggling
all that hard. Presently, the two of them collapsed in a heap beside the
Christmas tree, giggling and panting. Alex lay on his back, Fox beside him.
Walter advanced on them, on his hands and knees, a wicked smile on his face.
"Hey!" Alex said again as Walter tied the gold ribbon loosely around his
wrists. Walter raised Alex's hands above his head and pressed them against
the carpet.
"Leave them there," he growled.
"Yes, Walter," Alex said obediently, his cock already straining against his
boxers.
Walter did the same to Fox, tying his wrists with gold ribbon and
admonishing him not to move them from above his head.
"Yes, Walter," Fox murmured.
Walter opened their robes, lovingly slid their boxer shorts down, kissed
them both with exquisite gentleness. He knelt, surveying his beautiful,
naked lovers, both of whom were squirming deliciously, the firelight
reflecting warmly on their bare skin.
Walter shrugged out of his robe, tossed his boxers aside.
"Merry Christmas, my loves," he whispered.
Gold
lex stirred and stretched under the down comforter, luxuriating in the
delicious warmth that surrounded him. Walter was spooned up behind him, one
big arm wrapped around his waist. Fox lay on his side, facing Alex, snoring
softly, murmuring a little in his sleep. Alex grinned in the dark, savoring
the small moment as he always did, grateful for the pure and simple joy of
waking up next to someone. Two someones. Two extraordinary someones who
loved him. He breathed deeply, inhaling their unique scents, mingling
together as one, all at once clean and musky and incredibly sexy. Not long
gone were the days when he dreamed of waking up like this. Not long gone
were the days when he would look at the door to this very room, closed to
him then, and wish that he could spend just one night in this bed. He could
count every night he had spent in this bed since that lonely, uncertain
time, and was grateful for every one.
