Chapter 2 Niko
NIKO
The first week of December brought with it the familiar scent of pine and peppermint that always managed to lift my spirits.
I adjusted my Santa beard in the mirror and smiled.
The costume still fit perfectly over my muscular frame.
I'd splurged on the custom suit three years ago when I first started doing these holiday gigs, but the first time I put it on for the year was always stressful.
Being Santa wasn't just a winter side hustle for me. It was a chance to be the nurturing figure I naturally was, even if only for strangers' children instead of someone who could truly be mine.
According to my watch, I still had thirty minutes before I needed to be at the library. That was plenty of time to prepare mentally and physically for the afternoon ahead.
Just as I was getting a glass of water, my phone buzzed with a text from the library coordinator. Everything still good for 2pm? The kids are so excited!
I smiled and typed back a quick response. Ho ho ho! Santa is on his way!
Unconsciously, I ran a hand over my chest to test out whether I would be fine for a few more hours or if I should quickly pump. I'd already expressed earlier in the day, but I felt full. It was a common problem I had.
Being a man who lactated didn’t come with a user manual. Each one of us was a natural anomaly and each one of us had different needs and experiences.
And even though not every man who started to produce milk from his nipples was happy about the development when it happened, I liked it.
It was part of my identity, especially when I was in a scene or a relationship as a Daddy Dom.
The nurturing aspect of being able to provide milk to a partner fulfilled me in a way nothing else could.
But finding someone who appreciated that aspect of me was needle-in-a-haystack territory. Too many people held onto the notion that producing milk wasn’t masculine enough. I personally couldn’t see anything more masculine than being able to provide.
No time to worry about any of that now. I had to get out of the house and to my gig before the children thought I forgot about them.
Reading at the library was something I looked forward to every month, and when I could wear holiday props, it was even better.
I collected my bag with my special Santa book, jingle bells for the kids to hold, and candy canes approved by the library for distribution, before I headed out to my truck.
The drive to the library was short, and I admired the way the streets were already decorated for Christmas.
Wreaths hung from lampposts, and storefronts displayed twinkling lights that could be seen even in the afternoon light.
After pulling into the library’s lot, I parked in the back and used the staff entrance where the head librarian waited for me.
"Niko! You look fantastic!" She ushered me inside and closed the door before any passersby could get a look at me. "This suit gets better every year."
I gave her a wink and adjusted my hat. "Well, the real Santa has high standards. I've gotta represent properly."
She laughed and led me to the small room they'd set up for me to wait in until the children were all settled in the reading area. "We've got about thirty kids today, ranging in age from two to seven. A local preschool brought their class, and we've got some regulars from the neighborhood."
"Perfect." I set down my bag and straightened my costume one final time. "Any special requests this year?"
"Just be your wonderful self." Marjorie patted my arm. "You always know exactly how to make the magic happen."
Ten minutes later, I heard Marjorie announcing Santa's arrival to the excited squeals of children.
I took a deep breath, put on my best jolly smile, and pushed open the door. "HO HO HO! Merry Christmas, boys and girls!"
The children's faces all lit up as I entered the reading area. Some of the younger ones stared with wide-eyed wonder while the older kids bounced in their seats.
I made my way to the large red chair decorated with garland and took my seat with my bag of goodies beside me. "Who's ready for a special Christmas story?" I used my deepest, warmest Santa voice as I held up the book.
Every kid in the room squealed a chorus of excited replies.
My copy of "The Night Before Christmas" had oversized pages and beautiful illustrations. "This is one of Santa's favorite stories," I told them as I opened the book. "It tells the story of when I visit homes on Christmas Eve."
I read with animation, showing each page to the children and asking questions along the way. "What do you think the children were dreaming about? Can anyone tell me what 'sugarplums' might be?"
A little girl with pigtails raised her hand. "Are they like regular plums but covered in sugar?"
I nodded and gave her a wink. "That's an excellent guess, but back when this poem was written, sugarplums were actually sweet treats made of dried fruits and nuts, rolled in sugar. They were very special treats for children to have at Christmas time."
After finishing the first book, I reached into my bag and pulled out the jingle bells. "Before we read another story, raise your hand if you’d like to help Santa with some Christmas music."
Every hand shot straight up.
I passed out the bells to eager fingers and led them in a joyful rendition of Jingle Bells.
My chest warmed with happiness as the children laughed and shook their bells.
These moments reminded me why I loved doing this.
I might not have children of my own, but for these brief hours, I could bring happiness to others.
After the music break, I read "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and watched as the children frowned when the Grinch took all the presents, then lit up when Christmas came anyway.
I found myself watching the parents almost as much as the children.
The tender looks they wore as they observed their little ones created a familiar ache in my chest, one that longed for a family of my own, in whatever way that might look.
When the reading time ended, Marjorie announced that children could come up one by one to tell Santa what they wanted for Christmas.
I distributed candy canes as they came forward and listened intently to each child's wishes.
A sweet boy who was about four years old was inspecting my beard. "I want a dinosaur that roars."
"A wonderful choice." I nodded and adjusted the hidden microphone I wore so the parents could hear what their kids truly wanted from the small speaker in the corner. "Dinosaurs are some of my favorite creatures."
A little girl with glasses told me she wanted books about space. Another boy asked for a toy fire truck with the ladder that goes up and down.
Each request I acknowledged with the gravity it deserved.
Then a small boy who couldn’t have been older than three climbed onto my lap and immediately pressed his nose against my chest and inhaled. "Milkies."
My breath caught, and I chuckled. Children had an innocence about them that was as sweet as it could be awkward. I gently scooted him back so he was looking at my face. "What would you like for Christmas, young man?"
"A puppy." His attention was now captured by the beard that he was patting. "A soft puppy."
"I'll see what I can do, but you'll need to check with your parents first. Puppies are very special gifts that need lots of love and care."
After the last child had their turn, Marjorie thanked me for coming, and the children sang out a group "Thank you, Santa!
" before being led away by parents and teachers.
I remained seated for a moment, processing the emotions that always surfaced during these events.
The joy of giving and the satisfaction of creating magic were amazing, but they were also reminders of what I didn't have in my life. Might never have in my life.
I returned to the back room to grab my phone and saw a text from my friend Tyler had come through. You done playing Santa soon? Need to ask you something.
I texted back. Just finished. What’s up?
I changed out of my suit and into my regular clothes then carefully packed the costume into its garment bag. The beard and wig went into their own box to keep them in good shape. I thanked Marjorie and the library staff before heading out into the early evening darkness.
The temperature had dropped, and snow was falling more steadily now. Christmas lights twinkled from nearby shops and created that special glow that only existed during the holidays.
Despite the melancholy that sometimes crept in, I loved this time of year. People seemed to try a little harder to be kind.
Lost in my daydream, I was almost at my truck when I heard someone calling my name. "Niko! Hey, Niko! Wait up!"
I turned to see Tyler jogging toward me, his breath visible in the cold air. He ran the local animal shelter and had been my friend since college. As one of the few people who knew about my unique physiology, he was always supportive and never made me feel strange about it.
"Hey, man." He caught up to me and clapped me on the shoulder. "How was Santa duty?"
"Amazing as always." I smiled and thought back on being outed by that little boy. "The kids were adorable and funny. What's up? Your text sounded urgent."
"Not urgent, just time-sensitive." Tyler shoved his hands into his pockets and blew out a deep breath. "The shelter's annual Christmas charity raffle is coming up, and we're short on donations. I was wondering if you might have anything to contribute? Art, gift baskets, services… Anything helps."
I leaned against my truck and thought about it. "I don't really have anything auction-worthy at home. My woodworking isn't good enough to sell, and I don't have any special skills that—"
"That's not true." Tyler was wearing a sly grin on his face. "You've got the Santa suit."
"What do you mean?" Did he want me to auction off the suit?
"Donate a visit-from-Santa package. People will bid on it for their kids or family Christmas parties. You show up in the suit, do your Santa thing for an hour or so. It would be perfect, and people would definitely bid on it."
The idea wasn't something I'd thought of before, but it made sense.
I enjoyed being Santa, and extending that beyond the library readings could be fun.
Plus, it was for a good cause. "Ya know, that's not a bad idea.
" I nodded as it started to stick in my brain.
"I could offer a one-hour visit within the city limits?
All I need to do is read a few stories, smile for pictures, and make everyone happy. "
"Exactly!" Tyler's face lit up. "We could advertise it as a personal visit from Santa and include story time and photo opportunities. It would be a big hit, especially for families with young kids."
"Alright, I'm in." A surge of holiday spirit rolled through me in waves. "Email the details of what you need for the auction listing."
"You're the best, Niko." Tyler grinned. "The auction's next Saturday evening at the community center. You should come. Free food, open bar, and you can see who bids on your Santa services."
"I'll try to make it." I opened my truck door and placed my Santa bag on the passenger seat. "How's everything else at the shelter? Getting the usual holiday rush?"
Tyler's expression turned more serious. "Yeah, we're packed. People surrender animals before the holidays, thinking they'll be a burden during travel. Then after Christmas, we get puppies and kittens that were impulse gifts. It's our busiest season."
"That's tough." That reality sucked for both Tyler and the animals. "Let me know if you need help beyond the auction donation. I can volunteer some time if needed."
"I might take you up on that." Tyler stepped back from my truck and shook my head. "Thanks again for the Santa donation. It'll make a difference."
We said our goodbyes, and then I climbed into my truck.
As I drove home through the snowy streets, I thought about how being Santa allowed me to express the nurturing part of myself that sometimes felt bottled up. As a Daddy without a boy to care for, those moments of giving became even more precious.
I pulled into my driveway and looked at my small house.
It was decorated with simple white lights along the roofline and a wreath on the door.
Inside, my tree stood in the front window, decorated with ornaments I'd collected over the years.
It wasn't the picture-perfect holiday scene from the movies, but it was all I had. For now.
And maybe this year, I'd find a bit more of the Christmas magic for myself. The Santa donation wasn't just about helping the shelter. It was about embracing who I was. A caregiver, a nurturer, and a Daddy without someone to care for.
I gathered my Santa gear from the passenger seat and headed inside, already thinking about how I could make the auction donation special for whoever won it. After all, Santa always delivered, even when it wasn't Christmas Eve.