Chapter 4
Diarmud nestled close to the big body in his bed, sighing in pleasure. Garreth’s rumbling laugh stirred the hair near his ear. “You’re so cute like this,” he said, then kissed Diarmud’s ear tenderly.
“Am I? I think that you’re very cute,” the writer replied, patting his broad bare chest with one hand.
“Cute’s not exactly the word I would have chosen to describe myself,” Garreth said doubtfully.
Diarmud laughed in turn, stretching up to claim a kiss. “But you are, big boy. You’re such a romantic sap; it’s adorable in someone built like you. Someone who works in construction. I bet that you like puppies and kittens too, don’t you?” he teased, his green eyes sparkling.
Garreth shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, which caused Diarmud to giggle. This in turn made Garreth’s breath catch, and his eyes filled up with hunger. The writer gasped to see that darkness there, then he moaned as the other man’s mouth closed over his in a deep, heated kiss. Then there wasn’t any more talking between the two of them for a long time after that.
“What are you doing, baby?” Garreth asked. He paused in the archway that led into Diarmud’s living room, seeing his new lover sitting on the floor among some colorful scraps of paper and ribbons.
“Wrapping presents, of course,” the writer replied. He held up a pair of scissors and some tape. “Do you want to help?”
“I’d love to, except I’m a bit clumsy. I’m not sure that you’d want my help,” Garreth said doubtfully.
“Nonsense. I’ll show you how to do it right,” Diarmud said. He patted the floor next to him invitingly. “Come on, Gar. I’ll give you a kiss,” he said coaxingly.
This was a good enough incentive for him. Garreth came and sat down cross-legged next to his lover on the floor. Diarmud handed him a white box with a sweater in it. “We’ll start with the wrapping paper,” he said, picking up a roll of red paper with Christmas trees on it. He handed this to Garreth. “I’ll show you how to cut it to the right length. It’s not that hard, I promise. Besides, why don’t you know how to do this? Didn’t you wrap the gifts for your sister and nieces?”
“Nope. It’s what free gift wrapping at the stores is for,” Garreth replied promptly.
Diarmud laughed and shook his head. “Well, everyone should learn how to do it sometime, just in case the store you shop at doesn’t have free gift wrapping. So let’s get to it.”
Soon Garreth had produced an acceptable wrapped present, although the edges were a bit ragged and uneven. He held it up a little and looked at it admiringly. “That wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” he remarked in satisfaction.
“That’s right, big boy. I knew you had it in you. Now only a dozen or more so to go,” Diarmud said, pointing to another small pile of presents.
He laughed gleefully at Garreth’s expression, then picked up another present from his own pile. “Get to it,” he said, his teeth gleaming as he grinned.
~
About an hour later, Garreth finished his final present. He sighed, rolling his neck, as he glanced at Diarmud. The writer was lounging back on his arms, watching Garreth with a wicked light in his green eyes. The little bastard had finished at least twenty minutes ago. “All done? That’s great. Now for that kiss I owe you,” he flowed into Garreth’s lap, making the other man forget his ire in an instant. Diarmud’s soft mouth closed over his, and his arms came up to hold the lithe fae creature close. Their mouths ate at each other, and Diarmud writhed in his lap, rubbing his pert little ass over the growing bulge in Garreth’s jeans. “Mmm, feels good. May I unwrap my present now, Santa?” Diarmud breathed when they finally pulled apart.
“Yeah,” Garreth husked.
A sultry laugh, then Diarmud flowed off his lap and bent over him. The buckle and snap at the front of his jeans was swiftly dealt with, then he lifted up to let his lover pull the jeans down past his thighs. Fingers traced insouciantly over the mound in the boxers, as sparkling green eyes lifted to his. “Now this present I like,” Diarmud said throatily. “I always like it when I get something for Christmas that I can eat.”
Garreth groaned, his fingers tangling in the brown curls of the head currently bobbing in his lap. Diarmud’s hot little mouth pleasured him skillfully. God, he loved this present too! The writer’s pink tongue was gliding up the length of his shaft, then curling over the leaking tip. He moaned, his head going back a little. If he was Santa, then Diarmud Connelly was his sexy little Christmas elf…
“Now don’t be nervous, Gar,” Diarmud said as they picked their way down the icy walkway toward the brownstone house. “My family will love you, I promise.”
Garreth, loaded down with presents and dressed in his best suit, tried to conjure up a smile. He WAS feeling a bit nervous about meeting Diarmud’s family, since this was the first time and he wanted to make a good impression. He wanted them to like him, since he intended to be around for a long time to come. Maybe forever. Because he was already in love with Diarmud Connelly. He’d lost his heart to the sexy Irish elf the moment that he’d laid eyes on him in his sister’s clothes store.
They arrived at the front door. Diarmud used the brass knocker, a quaint old-fashioned thing. After a moment, the door swung open and a pretty dark-haired lady stood there smiling. “Diarmud! You’re here at last! Brendan’s been dying to see you!”
“Merry Christmas, Chloe. Sorry we’re a bit late. Chloe Connelly, this is my boyfriend Garreth Poole. Garreth, this is my sister-in-law Chloe.”
“How nice to meet you, Garreth,” she said sincerely, smiling at him. “Please come in, both of you. Liam and Brendan are in the living room…”
Before she could finish this sentence, a little whirlwind descended on them. “Uncle Diarmud!” the cute boy from the clothing store crowed as he latched onto the writer’s leg. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Brendan,” his uncle replied in kind, touching his head of brown curls.
The boy pulled back and stared up at the big man standing beside his uncle. “Who’s this?” he demanded curiously.
“Brendan, this is Garreth Poole.”
“Is he a boy you like to kiss?” Brendan asked hopefully, looking Garreth over.
Garreth’s lips twitched as Diarmud replied wryly: “Yes, that he is.”
The boy clapped his hands together happily. “Cool! So I got my Christmas wish!” he caroled.
“What do you mean, Brendan?” his mother asked in puzzlement.
The boy set his hands on his hips. “I asked Santa for a boy for Uncle Diarmud to kiss for Christmas,” he explained, his chest swelling in pride.
“Brendan! You didn’t!” she cried, obviously trying to hold back laughter but not quite succeeding.
“Yep, I did,” he said, looking as satisfied as the cat who’d swallowed the canary. “And it worked, see? Uncle Diarmud’s got a boy to kiss for Christmas!” he pointed a small finger up at Garreth in triumph.
“Yes, it did work. Thanks for asking Santa for my present, Brendan. I really appreciate it,” Diarmud said, his eyes twinkling.
“Don’t encourage him, Diarmud,” Chloe hissed, although she was obviously still close to laughter.
“And why not? It was his request to Santa that netted me a boy to kiss for Christmas,” Diarmud told her.
Her mouth fell open a little. “What?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s go into the living room and I’ll tell you all about it.” Her brother-in-law told her.
“Okkkaayyy. Come inside then, both of you.” She gestured to them, and they stepped into the tiny front entrance hall.
“Wait!” Brendan called. They paused, looking down at the little boy.
“What is it?” Diarmud asked.
He pointed above their heads with a chubby finger. “Look.” He said.
They looked up, and saw the sprig of mistletoe dangling there. “You have to kiss him for Christmas,” Brendan said.
“But Brendan…” his mother began uncertainly.
His chin stuck out stubbornly. “But he has to, Mom! It’s what I asked Santa for!”
She glanced at Diarmud, who smiled suddenly. He turned to his lover. “Well, Garreth? Shall we make Brendan’s Christmas wish come true?” he asked.
The big man smiled slowly. “Happy to,” he replied. Then he stepped close to Diarmud and bent his big body down so that their lips could meet. He looked down into those smiling green eyes as he did so, and felt a rush of love.
Behind them, the two men heard a happy squealing as their lips brushed together. When they pulled apart again, they turned to see Brendan clapping and looking gleeful. “I got my wish, I got my wish!” he called. “That means that Santa’s listening! I’ll get my Wii too!”
“Something tells me that you will, Brendan,” his uncle replied merrily, putting his arm around Garreth’s waist. “Because we’re all getting what we want the most for Christmas this year.”
The End