Chapter 21
AARON
Holidays with my family were never very festive.
That’s at least what I tell people when they ask.
It’s easier than telling them the truth.
The reality is that they weren’t overall bad, at least not from the outside looking in.
Instead, they were full of all these tiny moments where I had to pretend to be someone else.
The son my parents dreamed of, rather than the one they got.
As a kid, I didn’t really understand that, didn’t understand why I felt so different. As a teenager, the pieces slowly started to fall into place, and the chasm between who I was and who I pretended to be grew wider and wider until it almost swallowed me whole.
I still remember the last Christmas I spent with them.
It was shortly after I told them I was bisexual.
My aunt and uncle were over, gathered around the table with us, and everything was so quiet.
At least while I was there. After I went to my room, the yelling started.
I couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, but I knew at least a part of it was about me.
Thankfully, the following year, Matthias put his arm around my shoulder and told me I was coming to his house.
It wasn’t an invitation, but an order. Since then, his parents always had a spot at their table for me.
Every holiday, every birthday, every Saturday.
No questions asked. It was a kind of love I’d never known before.
Sitting in the living room, with five kids lying on the floor and adults covering every inch of possible seating space, Oliver’s family gives off a lot of the same vibes. It’s a little more chaotic and a bit more wild, but the same unconditional love fills every nook and cranny of this house.
It’s overwhelming in all the best ways.
“You alright?” Oliver whispers in my ear. We’re tucked in tightly on one of the loveseats. It’s well-worn, probably from years of abuse from the Walsh children and grandchildren, but so comfortable I’m not sure I’ll ever get up.
“Perfect.” I reach between us to grab his hand for a moment.
Except, once I give him the little squeeze I was planning, I don’t want to let go.
A glance around the room tells me that no one’s watching us.
They’re either focused on The Grinch playing on the TV, the kids, or half asleep.
A few of them might actually be sleeping.
So I don’t move. Holding Oliver’s hand feels right.
I know I don’t have our whole relationship worked out yet.
Most of the time, I’m winging it and hoping for the best. At work, there are always blueprints, schematics, and detailed plans for me to follow.
Nothing like that exists for a relationship.
Trust me, I’ve looked into it.
If Oliver thinks anything of it, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t attempt to move away from me. It figures, given that he’s better than me at the relationship stuff.
“Alright, I think that means it’s time for everyone to head to bed.” Oliver’s father announces as the credits start to roll. There’s a round of groans and complaints from the floor, but no one puts up too much of a fight. “Everyone knows where they’re sleeping tonight?”
There’s a round of yeses from the adults in the room.
I hadn’t put a lot of thought into sleeping arrangements. I should have, but at this point in my life, it’s not something that comes up often. Or ever.
I glance at Oliver, and he gives me a toothy smile, the one I’ve grown so fond of over the past several months. Every time he turns his smile toward me, I instantly feel better. It doesn’t make sense how the person who frightens me the most right now can also bring me so much peace.
I wish my friends knew about him. I could really use some advice from any of them about this matter. After watching them all fall in love, I’d expect to have learned something. Instead, I’ve been so distracted by my own situation that I didn’t pay enough attention.
Now, I’m paying the price for all of it, trying to work out the details on my own.
“Come on,” Oliver says, tugging at my hand. “Bedtime.”
His two brothers, Henry and Daniel, give us a little wink, but don’t say anything. My guess is we’ve only been spared because of the little ears in the room.
“Don’t,” Oliver says warningly. If I’ve learned anything from being here this afternoon, it’s that pushing back only riles them up more.
OLIVER
I’d only gone into my old bedroom earlier long enough to tuck our bags away safely.
Now that I’m standing here with Aaron, the reality of sharing this space comes barreling toward me.
When I told my mom we’d be fine sharing a bed, I might have forgotten that the mattress in my room is a double, not a queen.
Realistically, it’s only marginally smaller, but it looks tiny compared to the one in my home.
Neither of us is particularly big, but it’s still going to be a tight fit.
Based on Aaron’s scrunched-up face, I suspect he’s thinking the same thing.
“Oh,” he says. “If you have a sleeping bag or something, I can sleep on the floor.”
I snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll both fit.” Something magical has been flickering between us for the last few hours, and I don’t want anything to break the spell. Even if I knew where to find a sleeping bag right now, I wouldn’t get it.
“If you’re sure.” He gives the small mattress a quick look. It’s not that little. Smaller than we’re used to, but it’s not like it’s a twin bed. “Your parents won’t mind if we’re sleeping together?”
“I’m sure.” I ignore the more devious implications of what he asked. I’d guess that everyone in this house, except the children, knows that we’re both figuratively and literally sleeping together.
I don’t mind. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs if Aaron permitted me. As it is, it’s hard to hide our relationship, especially from people who know me well.
Plus, Jane has all the details, and I don’t think she’s kept them to herself. She’s probably sworn everyone else to secrecy, though, so they’re all protecting everyone else’s secrets.
What could go wrong?
We both busy ourselves with changing out of our clothes. “What should I wear to bed?” Aaron asks, looking up from his duffel bag.
“Whatever you want.” Nothing is ideal, but I’m guessing that’s not on the table since my parents are only a couple of doors away.
I’ve gotten used to the few nights a week that I get to sleep with Aaron by my side, our bodies finding each other over and over throughout the night. Mostly for cuddles, but often for more.
“What are you wearing?”
I shrug, because honestly, I haven’t really thought about it.
I typically wear my boxers to bed and nothing else, no matter where I’m sleeping.
“Whatever you’re comfortable in,” I say.
“Everyone around here is smart enough not to open any doors without knocking. Trust me when I say that’s a requirement in a household with this many people.
” There have been a few incidents over the years, and they’ve only reinforced the knocking rule.
At this stage, no one is willing to risk using eye bleach to get an answer a bit sooner.
I glance toward the tiny push-lock on the door—the kind my siblings could all pick before their fifth birthday.
“I can lock the door if it would make you feel better. If someone’s bound and determined to get in, it certainly won’t stop them, but it might slow little hands down a bit. ”
“No.” He bites his lip, as though he’s still thinking about it. “It’ll be fine.”
He says that, but he pulls a t-shirt from his bag and tugs it over his head to go with his boxers. As much as I’d like Aaron naked between my sheets tonight—and if I’m being honest, every night—this will have to do. I’m just thankful he doesn’t have a pair of flannel pants in there somewhere.
A few minutes later, we’re crawling beneath the sheet, Aaron taking the inside, up against the wall.
The house is so quiet, all I can hear are his steady breaths.
It’s the perfect background noise. I’ve become accustomed to the sounds of the city, traffic at all hours, and sirens filling the space. Out here, it’s quiet. Too quiet.
I’m about to say something when he pushes back, his ass rubbing against my cock. The first time, I’m sure he’s getting comfortable, but eventually it’s impossible for me—or my half-hard cock—to ignore.
“You want something?” I ask, snaking a hand around and into his boxers. I’m met with his erection and a quiet moan.
“Maybe. Can we?”
“If you can be quiet?” Aaron’s not typically a big talker in bed, but he’s not quiet either. I’m lucky my bedroom wall is exterior rather than one I share with a neighbor, or I’m sure there would be complaints.
“Please?”
One of my bags has plenty of supplies. I’d say it’s because I’m a Boy Scout, always prepared, but it was really more wishful thinking. I don’t want to get up to get any of it right now. I’d rather stay right here.
“Roll over,” I order.
As soon as he does, I tug our boxers down enough to free our matching erections. He immediately reaches for our cocks, wrapping them in his fist. “Yeah?” He gives us a couple of tentative strokes.
“Yeah, like that.”
It’s a bit rough, but being close to him feels so good. “Here.” I spit into my palm and take over for him, using my saliva to help slick us up.
“Fuck,” Aaron says a little too loudly. Instead of telling him to be quiet, I lean in and capture his mouth. I’ve been staring at him all day, so close and yet unable to lean in and kiss him every time I want, which is pretty much all the time.
He moans into my mouth, and I hope it’s enough to help muffle the noise. Daniel is in the room next door with his wife, Anne. While Anne would be discreet, my brother is the exact opposite.
“Shit. I’m close. Come with me?”
“Yeah,” I redouble my efforts, and within a few more strokes, I feel Aaron spill over my first. I use his cum as extra lubricant and manage a few more seconds before I come.
It takes a few seconds before either of us moves, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the room.
“Thank you,” Aaron whispers. “I needed that.”
“Anytime.” I kiss his forehead. “Let me clean up, and I’ll be right back.”
I pull off my boxers and use them to clean up the worst of the mess. I’ll stick them in a bag to take back home to wash. With a bit of work, I get a pair of sweatpants out of my bag for a trip to the bathroom.
“So, just a friend, huh?” Daniel steps into the hall just as I’m leaving the bathroom, wet washcloth in hand. I tuck it behind my back, hoping maybe he won’t notice.
“Yep.” Never give away more than necessary.
“I don’t usually share orgasms with my friends.”
And that’s confirmation. Shit, I knew Aaron couldn’t keep quiet.
Whatever. Daniel and I shared a wall for many years.
I’ve heard my fair share of incriminating evidence from his side.
“Don’t,” I warn him. Whatever he’s got to dish out over this, I can take it.
I know it comes from a place of love. It’s Aaron I worry about. He’d be mortified. Or worse.
Daniel’s face goes soft. “Look, I don’t care what you do. I want you to be happy. You know that, right, Ollie?”
“Yeah, I know. Can you maybe not say anything to anyone? We’re still figuring things out.”
He snorts. “From what I heard, I think you’ve got it all worked out.”
“Don’t be gross.” Anne steps into the hallway and puts a hand on her husband’s arm. “We’re all thrilled for you, Oliver. You and Aaron are wonderful together.” She tugs at Daniel. “Bed. Now.”
He winks at me before he disappears behind a closed door.
Shit. I take a few deep breaths before heading back to my room—no need to worry Aaron over this. By morning, no one will even remember.
He’s nearly asleep when I walk in, but manages to wake up long enough for me to help him clean up. Once we’re both satisfied, I change into a clean pair of boxers and crawl back in behind Aaron.
“So,” he says, just as I was about to fall asleep, “your family is pretty great.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “They are pretty great.” I haven’t always loved having a big, rowdy family—the kind that’s in all of your business all of the time.
Trust me, it was not great during my teenage years.
But I know how lucky I am, too. I’m fortunate to have siblings who genuinely care about me, and parents who only want what’s best.
“Do you think they like me?” he asks.
I can’t help the burst of laughter that comes straight from my chest. “Why do you ask?”
“I just want to know. I… want them to like me.”
I still see how important this is, written across Aaron’s serious face, barely visible in the darkness.
“They adore you,” I say. “Trust me, if they didn’t, I’d have heard about it by now.
The fact that they’re joking with you and giving you a hard time means they’ve accepted you as one of our own.
” Before he can get too excited, I remind him, “That means you’re going to have to continue putting up with all of their antics.
And don’t think that ends the minute the car pulls away.
They’re going to want your phone number. ”
“You can give it to them,” he says after a second of thought.
I pull his body close to me and wrap myself around him. It’s the kind of gesture he’d usually allow and then shake off a second later by rolling over or doing something else to rearrange in the bed. Tonight, he doesn’t do any of those things.
He just settles in… and falls asleep.