Kingston
It’s Christmas Eve. Man, these last few months have gone by so fast. It’s winter break at school, but Camden has been busy at the grocery store, trying to save up for his mom. I haven’t seen him much, but I’ve been helping out with Lucy a lot.
Today, while Camden and his mom were at work, I brought Luce to my house to make cookies with my mom. She had fun, but I could tell she wished it was her own mom. I hate that for all of them.
It’s not fair that Camden is eighteen and working until closing on Christmas Eve, but it is what it is.
Lucy and I walk through the automatic doors of the grocery store and spot Cam stocking shelves right away.
He looks tired, and I know he’s sick to death of the Christmas music blaring from the speakers.
Lucy runs up to him, wrapping her little arms around him with a squeal, and he laughs, nearly knocked over by the pint-sized kiddo. “What are you guys doing here?”
“When are you coming home?” she whines adorably. “We can’t miss Santa, and it’s already dark out.”
Winter and it’s wonderful, dark abyss. I miss the sun.
Camden hugs her and then releases her, handing her a box to add to the shelf, like she’s done many times when she visits. “I’m almost finished, and don’t worry, Santa won’t be here for hours.” He turns to me, those damn dimples popping when he grins at me. “Thanks for watching her today.”
It’s rare when they both work, but when they do, I don’t mind hanging with Lucy at all. “Not a problem,” I say, grabbing a couple of boxes to help out too. “You look tired.”
“Someone kept me up last night,” he says coyly, and a hot feeling floods my body, knowing I’m that someone, and it wasn’t just staying up all night talking. There was talking, but there was also his mouth. His hands. His warm body pressed against mine, writhing together on his bed.
Fuck, do not get a boner in the middle of the store.
“Not sorry,” I say, and his smile only widens. He does that more lately, I notice. Like being able to tell me his secret freed him in a way. And damn, if that doesn’t make me feel like a king.
“Boys.” I look up just in time to see Coach walk up to us with LeAnn in tow.
“Hey, Coach,” I say, surprised to see him out. The store is dead. Most people are tucked inside their houses for the holiday. “LeAnn,” I say, offering her a warm smile. I’ve always liked her, and even though Kennedy hates my guts, LeAnn has been cool.
“What are you all doing out on Christmas Eve?” He eyes us with concern and authority only Coach can have.
“Working,” Camden says defiantly. Coach never liked that he had a job other than football and school. He always said if it interfered with either, we’d have a problem, but Cam never had any issues. He handles everything well. Somehow. I have no clue how he balances it all, but he has it down.
Coach grunts, and LeAnn rolls her eyes, bending down to say hi to Lucy, who blushes when LeAnn comments on her pretty dress. “You keeping these boys in line?”
“Of course,” Lucy states, and there’s no doubt she has us both wrapped around her little finger.
“That’s my girl.” She gives Lucy a high five and then stands up, her eyes on me. “Kennedy been calling you nonstop yet?”
I stiffen because I notice Camden’s whole body go rigid, his eyes on me as if waiting for the answer. “Hell, no. Why would she?” I haven’t talked to Kennedy at all, and I’d like to keep it that way.
“Just beware,” she sings cryptically, and I don’t like it at all.
“Thanks?” She laughs, but Camden is still definitely tense. I want to change the subject, so I look back at Coach. “So where’s Mrs. Coach?”
And apparently, that was the wrong thing to ask, because LeAnn’s eyes darken slightly, and Coach clears his throat uncomfortably. “She, uh . . .” Yeah, this is awkward. But I have no idea why. “She went back home to her parents’ for Christmas.”
“Oh.” Why is that a big deal? I don’t know, but Camden seems to be picking up on something because he quickly changes the subject again, talking about baseball season and how he’s ready for that.
Something is definitely off, but soon, they both say goodbye and leave. I turn to Camden. “What was that about? With his wife?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, but LeAnn looked like she was about to cry.”
“Yeah, it’s not good.”
“I’ll check in with her later,” he says, and I smile because he’s a good friend, and I know he’ll be worried about her.
Finally, his shift ends, and we go back to my house with Lucy, meeting their mom there for a big-ass dinner that has me groaning from eating way too much.
After Camden and I do the dishes, we find that Lucy has passed out on the couch in the living room while my parents and his mom chat around the fireplace and drink hot cocoa.
It’s nice. It feels right, and I can’t help but wonder what next year will be like. If he goes away for college, will he at least come back for the holidays? Or does he hate it so much here that he won’t even do that?
The idea of never having that again sits solid in my heart well after we go back to his place. We wake Luce up long enough to leave cookies and milk out for Santa, and then his mom tucks her into bed before going to bed herself.
When we’re in his room, with his door locked, and tucked under the covers in his bed, I’m right where I want to be. Where I always want to be. But that weight in my chest has only intensified.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
“Yeah,” I lie because I’m so not okay. I’m afraid that time is moving way too fast. “I’m fine.”
He rolls to his side, his hand tucked under his head. “You worried about Kennedy?”
“What?” I turn on my side, mirroring his position. “Why the hell would I worry about her?” She’s definitely not on my mind.
“LeAnn sounded like she was surprised you haven’t heard from her.”
I see something flicker in his eyes, even only in the moonlight. It looks like jealousy. Or maybe just concern. “I don’t want to hear from her.”
He smiles at that, brushing a hand over my cheek. “You need to shave.”
I laugh at that and smooth my hand over the stubble on my jaw. “Hell no. I’m growing a beard. I’d look good with a beard.”
He laughs at that, shaking his head at me. “Good luck with that. Let me know when puberty hits.”
“Fuck you. I can totally grow a beard.” I shove him playfully, and then he shoves me back. It turns into a full-on war, wrestling for dominance, and the lithe fucker somehow ends up on top with my arms pinned above me. I have at least fifteen pounds of muscle on him, but he’s fast.
“Cannot,” he laughs, leaning down to run his cheek over mine. “But I like this little bit of stubble you have going on. Even if it took you three weeks to grow it.”
“Fucker.” I struggle underneath him, but it’s halfhearted.
“Hey, Kingston?” His voice is a quiet rasp into my ear, his chest pressed against mine as he straddles my body. Our cocks are already hard from the close contact.
“Yeah?”
I hear him swallow and swear I can feel his heart pounding against mine. “Fuck me.”
It’s said like a demand, but his voice shakes when he says it. “What?” I breathe, my heart rate kicking up.
“Please?” It’s a question, and he won’t look at me, still lying against my chest with his mouth at my ear.
“You really want that? With me?” I can barely think, my cock impossibly hard now at the thought of being inside him, and my nerves kick up because I want to make sure it’s good for him.
“You’re the only one I want that with.” His answer is raw, his voice strained with the vulnerable emotion in his words.
I nod my head slowly, his cheek against mine, and I pull my hands free, cupping his face and making his eyes meet mine. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m totally sure. I have lube and condoms. I’ve researched, and I know what I want. What I want is you.” He looks nervous though. “If you want that.”
I smile at him, shaking my head, because how could I not? I kiss his lips softly, still holding on to him, and I feel him open up to me. I feel the moment his body relaxes, and he stops fighting his insecurities and lets me make him feel good.
We strip out of our shirts and sweats, leaving us both in our underwear as he grabs a condom and a bottle of lube. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” he says, and I can’t believe he could ever feel that way.
“I’m honored you want this with me.” I take the condom, my hand shaking slightly, and I hope he doesn’t see it.
“But I want to make it good for you.” I’ve done a little research too and ended up getting lost for hours in gay porn.
Still, I know I need to take my time. Prep him and not just shove it in.
But looking at his hard body, sculpted and tight from workouts and manual labor, his beautiful fucking face that feels like comfort and warmth, I’m not sure if I can last long enough to make it good.
I palm the hard bulge in my briefs. “Tell me how to make it good for you.”
He bites on his bottom lip shyly and pushes his briefs down and off, his cock standing proud, ready for me like it always is. “I can get ready for you.”
He takes the lube from my hand, and I watch as he lies back down on the bed, spreading his legs, his feet planted on the bed. I’m in a total trance as I watch him lube his hand, stroking his hard cock once and then sliding lower to his hole.
He’s breathing hard, and I notice I’m matching his every breath with my own, drifting closer to the bed. My eyes dart from his face to his hands, watching as he slides a finger inside himself. “Holy fuck, Cam,” I whisper.
He leans his head back, his eyes falling closed as he works another finger inside himself, working himself open for me. I can’t stop staring, excitement and nerves warring inside my body. The sight is so hot, I could come, just watching him without even grabbing my dick. I know it.
“Let me help,” I say, moving toward the bed, pushing my underwear down and off as I go, still clutching the condom.
His eyes open as he watches me climbing onto the bed and between his spread legs. “You don’t have to.”
I wrap my hand around his wrist, gently pulling, his fingers sliding out of his hole. “I want to. There’s no have to here.”
He nods. “Put the condom on first.” I nod, following his instructions and quickly sliding the condom over my cock that’s aching to be inside him at this point. When he holds the lube bottle out for me, I squirt some in my hand. “Stroke your dick. Get it nice and wet.”
Jesus. This is really happening. I’m going to be inside my best friend.