A Small Miracle Happened (3 page)

But Dan answered Chris’s questions about Hanukkah without mocking his ignorance, and even included him in that charming ceremony with the menorah. When Chris recited Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poem, Dan didn’t look confused or derisive. He seemed to understand and appreciate it, smiling so delectably that Chris moved on impulse, kissing that lush mouth. Dan’s reaction surprised him with its intensity.

He flashed on the memory of Dan’s face in the shadows. When Chris wrapped his hand around their cocks, Dan bit deep into his lower lip and half closed his eyes as he made a sweet moaning sound. It was a good thing that vision came to Chris while he was stopped at a traffic light, because he needed a couple deep breaths to pull himself back into the present. The beep of a horn from the car behind him helped jar him back into motion.

Now he cursed himself for running off when the phone had rung. But he’d been rattled and suddenly unsure of himself. He’d wanted time to sort out his feelings.

He was still working on that sorting-out thing. And worrying that Dan had interpreted his abrupt leaving as a sign that all he’d wanted was a quick tumble in the twilight.

If he’d stayed, maybe he could have talked Dan into going to Terry and Warren’s with him. They’d told him he could bring a date. On the other hand, if Dan hadn’t had another invitation, Chris would likely be explaining right now that his friends weren’t as psycho as they seemed, and that Terry was a nice guy when his dad wasn’t in the room.

As he pulled in to his driveway and activated the garage door opener, he thought about giving Dan a call later and asking him how his Thanksgiving was. Except he hadn’t gotten Dan’s phone number the previous evening. Cursing himself again, he parked his truck and got out. A flicker of movement behind him made him turn. He smiled.

A few moments later, he was standing on the sidewalk across the street as Dan pulled into a garage identical to his own. Then Dan was standing in front of the ugly condo, casual but stylish in an unbuttoned leather coat over a soft green sweater, jeans, and boots. The sweater fit snugly, emphasizing his height and slenderness. His clear, pale skin contrasted with his dark hair and eyes, and sharp cheekbones stood out in a face full of interesting planes and angles. Chris had no trouble envisioning him as one of the romantic poets he’d secretly mooned over as a teenager while other guys ogled female porn stars and cheerleaders. Then he realized he was staring stupidly into Dan’s warm eyes. He blushed. “Uh, hi.”

Dan looked embarrassed at the scrutiny, and bit his lip. “Pie?” He held up something wrapped in aluminum foil and gestured at Chris’s hands.

Chris glanced down at the plate Terry’s mom gave him. “Inevitably.”

“Yeah, I suppose so, on Thanksgiving. They always send you away with something.”

Chris smiled. “I always ask for the pie.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Dan clicked a fob on his keychain, and the garage door slid down obediently. “The family I was visiting must have invited thirty people. I never saw so much cranberry sauce go so fast. I was amazed there was anything left, but some pie survived. What kind is yours?”

“Rhubarb.”

Chris hoped Dan walking to the front door as he continued the conversation constituted an invitation, and sure enough, once he’d unlocked it, Dan held it open for Chris to pass inside. “I’ve got apple.”

Chris laughed. “We can have our pie together after you light your menorah.”

Dan peeked at him through flirtatious lashes. “Yeah, it’s my turn to light the candle tonight.”

That sounded promising. Maybe Chris hadn’t screwed up too badly last night.

The pie eaten and the menorah lighted, they sat on the couch watching the oddly hypnotic flames of the candles as they flickered in the window. Chris admired the way Dan had decorated the room. It wasn’t fussy, but the few pictures and knickknacks scattered around made it attractive and welcoming. Chris wondered how people did that. His own place still seemed sterile and bland, even though he’d unpacked all his stuff. He just didn’t have the right eye to make things beautiful.

Feeling too big and lumbering for this place or his elegant host, he reached for his wineglass on a side table. It was next to a small bowl filled with foil-covered candies and the wooden top he’d noticed the previous evening. He picked up the brightly painted thing, examining the symbols on the sides. “Are these Hebrew letters?”

“Yeah. They stand for ‘A great miracle happened there.’ A kind of acronym, I guess. My Hebrew is practically nonexistent. We used to play for chocolate coins like the ones my grandmother sent. You spin the dreidel around”—Dan demonstrated on the coffee table—“and when it stops, the symbol on top tells you what to take out of the pot: nothing, half, or all. But if it lands on
shin
, you have to put something in. And by the end of the game, any kid old enough to follow the rules has learned the letters.”

“So it’s just a cute way to teach kids?” Chris wondered if Dan wanted to play for nostalgia’s sake. It didn’t sound very exciting, but Chris was willing to humor him. And there would be chocolate.

“Yeah, but once I got older, I learned some interesting variations.”

“Such as?”

Dan’s expression was so sly Chris started laughing even before he said, “Strip dreidel.”

That sounded
much
more exciting.

They sat on the living room floor. It was cheap laminate designed to mimic wood, but the quality was poor, and it wasn’t fooling anyone. Chris thought of it as linoleum putting on airs. Dan had tossed some brightly colored rugs around to hide most of it. Now he rearranged two of the rugs so they could sit on them, with a bare spot in between to spin the dreidel.

“We can change the rules around if you like, but this is how we played in my college dorm.” Dan laid the dreidel down so a symbol that looked a little like the letter
W
was on top. “This is shin. If you get this, you have to put something on.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah, unless you’re the only one almost naked, and everyone’s snickering.” Dan shivered, remembering either embarrassment, cold, or both.

Chris winked. “Snickering isn’t my likely reaction to seeing you almost naked.”

“That’s good to know.” Next Dan showed him a sort of backward
C
. “
Nun
. Do nothing.”

“I hope we’re getting to better options soon.”

Dan’s smile was wicked as he displayed an upside-down lowercase
R
. “
Gimel
. In the kid’s version, it means to take everything, but in strip dreidel, if there’s a bunch of people, you can make one of them strip, at least down to their underwear. But with just a few people, that could end everything fast. So we kind of varied it. Instead of one person taking off everything, everyone has to take off one thing.”

Dan nodded. “I can deal with that. What’s the fourth letter?”

“
Hay
. It means half, but instead of taking off half your clothes, you make someone else take one thing off.”

“That works. But it’ll get boring if we keep landing on—what is it?—nun?”

“Yeah, nun. There’s another variant for that.” Dan took a bottle of vodka off the coffee table and set it and a shot glass on the floor by his side.

“Okay!” Chris didn’t need any more instructions. He picked up the dreidel. “And I feel lucky. Do we spin to see who goes first?”

“You’re the guest.” Dan spread his hands and leered at Chris. He was too cute to come off as anything other than adorable. You’d think there’d be rules against guys being so pretty. But if there were, Chris was glad no one was around to enforce them.

Chris spun. The dreidel landed on nun. Time to start on a good buzz, he thought as he poured himself a shot.

Dan got gimel. They each removed a sweater, and Chris noted Dan checking out his abs when his shirt rode up during the process. Chris’s face might not be his best feature, but he took heart in the knowledge the game would let him uncover other assets. He spun and got hay. “Do I get to choose what you take off?”

“Nope.” Dan, with a teasing smile, removed a sock. For his turn, he had to drink a shot, so they were even in alcohol consumption.

After that the luck turned lopsided. Dan consistently landed on nun or gimel while Chris hit a string of hays and shins.

Chris watched as Dan lost his other sock, his shirt, and his belt. He put on a show with the last two items, slipping the shirt off slowly and stretching to reveal his flat stomach and small, erect nipples. His chest was lightly dusted with black hair, but he made sure to flick open the snap at his waistband when he snaked off his belt, revealing a promising treasure trail.

Chris shifted. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he hoped he could get rid of them soon. He spun the dreidel. Shin.

“Not fair!” Dan had a point. He was nearly down to his underwear while Chris had to go to the front door to retrieve his shoes. But it wasn’t as if Chris wanted to win the game, if keeping your clothes on could even be considered winning.

Dan spun again and, to Chris’s disappointment, landed on shin. He pulled his sweater on and stuck out his tongue. Chris’s mouth watered at the sight. He tried to distract himself by asking Dan about the other times he’d played this game.

Dan must have been out in college because no girls were mentioned as participants. It sounded like most sessions hadn’t turned into outright orgies, if only because so much alcohol was consumed the players weren’t fit for anything but naps by the end of the game. But the spinning dreidel had led to a number of hookups. Dan talked about a guy who offered to exchange blowjobs for bits of clothing. “Except he wanted other people’s clothes, like a designer sweater he lusted after more than the guy who wore it. And I know he liked my jeans more than what was in them.”

“Did you take him up on the offer?”

“Nah. I’d been there, done that, and frankly so had just about every gay guy in school, and a few supposedly straight ones too. I was trying to get this cute California dude out of his pants, but he went off with a Japanese exchange student and broke my heart.” Dan tried to look tragic, but only succeeded in grimacing comically, making Chris snort.

“Beginner’s luck?” Chris suggested about himself a few spins later. He’d gotten rid of the shoes and sweater again, but he still had a shirt on. Dan was back down to just his jeans, and his bare chest and arms were starting to show goose bumps. Chris wanted to grab him and hold him close to warm him up. Before moving on to other activities.

“Goy’s luck.”

Chris thought for a moment that Dan had mispronounced “boy,” but Dan told him the word meant “gentile,” which Chris mangled into “gentle” the first time he tried to say it.

“I’ll be gentle too.” Chris decided it was time to end the game, because if Dan hit nun once or twice more, vomiting or passing out might ensue. He set the vodka, shot glass, and dreidel on the coffee table, then helped Dan to his feet.

Either out of affection or dizziness, Dan linked his hands around Chris’s neck. After he swayed a moment, he moved closer with obvious intent. Chris found himself stroking the warm, smooth skin of his back. Dan shivered, and Chris felt an echo of the shudder in his gut.

Even though Dan was of slighter build, they were nearly the same height. Chris liked that. It would be easier to engage in certain activities while standing up or lying down. Now they stood cheek to cheek until Dan’s head drooped. Chris breathed in the herbal scent of his shampoo. He liked the way Dan’s hair was cut. It looked a little messy, not too fussy. Dan didn’t douse himself in cologne or use a lot of product in his hair. He managed to look stylish and well-groomed without appearing to have put much effort into it.

Of course he started out with the advantage of being beautiful. That probably made it easier.

Chris sighed with regret. He walked Dan backward into the bedroom, stripped the jeans off, then pushed him down on the bed. Dan grabbed at him, and Chris leaned in for a long, wet kiss before pulling away. “Good night.”

“Hey!” Dan sat up, then spoke with surprising clarity. “Where are you going?”

Chris folded his arms across his chest to keep from reaching out to Dan. “I don’t take advantage of drunks.”

“Who’s drunk? I’ve got a bit of a buzz on, that’s all.”

To Chris’s astonishment, Dan stood with a minimum of wobbling and faced him without needing support.

“You seemed pretty giggly out there.”

“That was flirting.” Dan’s flush seemed due more to embarrassment than drunkenness. “Slightly inebriated flirting, yeah, but if you’re thinking I can’t consent, give me a break. I was careful not to fill those shot glasses. Besides, there’s a lot of implied consent in suggesting a game of strip dreidel.”

That was a nicely coherent speech, but Chris noted Dan’s words were still slurred. “I need more than implied.”

“Hey!” Dan said again, in a different tone of voice, taking Chris’s face in his hands. “Did something happen to you?”

Chris smiled crookedly. “It was a long time ago. In college. Someone wanted to go faster and farther than I did, and I was impaired enough that I had a hard time, uh, enforcing my decision. I was a lot smaller and skinnier then too. But someone came in, and it was okay. I’ve never forgotten what that felt like, though.”

Dan hugged him and whispered in his ear. “That’s not what’s happening here. But if I’ve killed the mood, or if you just don’t want to—”

“Are you kidding?” Chris’s laugh was shaky. “Are you sure? If you’re not really drunk—”

“You be the judge.” Dan sat down on the bed, then snagged a finger in Chris’s waistband. “Let’s see if my tongue is in good working order.” A few seconds later, Chris’s jeans were down around his knees and…oh, Jesus, did Dan have a hot, sweet mouth.

It took some willpower to tug gently on Dan’s hair and get him to raise his head. “Wait. I…I know you said it was your night to light the candle, but…”

Dan had the cutest way of trying and failing to look wicked. “We can make up our own rules again and light each other’s.”

Yeah, that worked. Tossing the last of his scruples aside, Chris finished stripping. Almost as soon as Dan shucked off his briefs, Chris squirmed onto the bed with his feet pointing toward the headboard. This was one of those activities that worked well when guys were of similar heights.