Spam! It's What's for Christmas (5 page)

He plunked down at the kitchen table to drink himself silly. From this vantage point, he had a perfect view of the peeling paint on the living room walls, the hideous autumn leaf border yellowed with age, becoming not more ghostly, but somehow more jarringly garish, because that was just the way his luck rolled.

Ben sighed again and tried to think of something, anything that might make him feel better.
Call Gavin
sprang instantly to mind. No big surprise there. But it was Christmas Eve, and Gavin probably had things to do. Calling him now would just be too pathetic. Ben slumped at the table, head on his hand, settling in for a morose, Heineken-fueled holiday.

The knock at the door nearly startled him off his chair. He got up to answer it, although with the day he was having it was probably Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Instead, he found Gavin standing there. “Hey. I hope I’m not bothering you?”

For a moment, Ben just stared, because he wasn’t used to having what he wanted magically materialize on his doorstep. Then his brain caught up to him, and he quickly said, “Oh, no. Not at all.” He moved back out of the way. “Come in.”

Gavin glanced around as he stepped inside, his quick eyes taking in the sagging couch, the ancient carpet, the general Salvation Army whiff of despair hanging over the place. In the true spirit of the season, he didn’t comment on it.

“You want to—” Ben motioned at the couch.

Gavin took a seat. “I brought you something.” He waved a manila envelope at Ben. “Copies of the pictures I took of you. I thought you might want them for your portfolio.”

Ben nodded, slipping the prints out of the envelope. “That’s really cool of you.” Then he stopped talking, his breath literally taken away.

He didn’t know too much about photography, and he’d assumed the pictures would simply record how he’d looked that day, the things he’d done. He hadn’t expected them to say so much about Gavin. They were a veritable chronicle of what Gavin felt when he looked at Ben: not just lust, but humor, understanding, something that might even have been the beginnings of fondness. That was just—fuck. Ben swallowed hard, a flutter of anticipation in his belly.

“You like them?” Gavin asked softly. He sat so close Ben could feel the heat coming off his body.

“It’s too bad there aren’t any of the two of us together.” Ben’s voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to him.

“Your boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate that,” Gavin said, an edge to his voice.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t care at all.”

Gavin’s gaze darted to him hopefully, but he kept his tone cautious. “So you mean you and he—”

“It’s over. Apparently has been for a while. I just didn’t get the memo.”

“Oh,” Gavin said, but made no move to do anything about it.

“I think this is where you’re supposed to console me,” Ben prompted.

“Yes, because I’m so warm and cuddly and good at things like that,” Gavin said, his eyes flashing with sarcasm.

Ben laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Possibly in years. “Just stick with what you know then.” He hooked a hand behind Gavin’s neck and drew him in for a kiss.

“Ah,” Gavin said against his lips. “You mean
consoling
.”

Ben leaned back against the cushions, pulling Gavin with him, tightening his arms around Gavin’s shoulders. “So,” he asked in between kisses. “Did that film of me doing the Santa porn really get ruined? ’Cause that seems kind of careless of you.”

Gavin took in a big, haughty breath to defend himself. “I’ll have you know—” He sighed. “Okay, okay, so I’m a greedy, jealous bastard, happy? I don’t want every guy in America with a tiny dick drooling all over you. I don’t want anyone drooling over you but me. Is that scary and stalkerish enough for you?”

Ben considered. “I think it would be more convincing if we were both naked and in bed and you said it while you were holding me down and fucking me.”

Gavin jumped to his feet. “I can totally work with that.” He grabbed Ben’s hand and dragged him toward the bedroom.

Just inside the doorway, an unhappy possibility occurred to Ben, and he stopped in his tracks. “This isn’t a pity fuck, right?”

Gavin shot him an impatient look. “You tell me.”

Ben frowned, confused. “But you’re—and I—nothing worked out the way I thought it would.”

Gavin snorted. “Yeah, well, that describes about ninety percent of the people who live in L.A.”

“So you don’t feel sorry for me?” Ben said hopefully.

“I feel sorry for anyone who’s not me and doesn’t get to have sex with you.”

Ben broke into a smile. “Well, good, then.” He bowled Gavin over, sending him flopping back onto the bed. “Just thought I should check first.”

He bent his head to kiss Gavin’s neck, licking at a little trickle of sweat in the hollow of his collarbone. He was interrupted by a sudden clatter up on the roof, a thud-thud-thud that sounded oddly enough like… hooves.

He lifted his head. “Is that—”

Gavin frowned at him. “What?”

The thud-thud-thud was accompanied by the jingle of bells.

“Don’t you hear that?” Ben asked.

“What?”

“Merry-damned-Christmas,” boomed a voice suspiciously like surf-bum Santa’s. “And you’re welcome.”

Gavin looked at Ben, puzzled.

Ben grinned. “I think you’re my present.”

Gavin flipped Ben over onto his back. There was a not-entirely-wholesome gleam in his eyes. “So, are you going to unwrap me or what?”

Ben laughed. “As many times as humanly possible.”

Got
Mistletoe Madness
?

The Dreamspinner Press 2009 Advent Calendar is available at
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
.

About the Author

“I want to work with words!” That’s been
Lenore Black
’s ambition pretty much since she learned how to read. After trying out publishing and public relations, she took up a career as an advertising copy writer. Now, she’s happy to add “fiction writer” to the resume. Lenore lives in Brooklyn, New York, and spends the time commuting on the subway daydreaming about men who love each other… and sometimes about the Yankees winning the World Series.

Visit Lenore’s web site at http://lenorejblack.livejournal.com.

Copyright

Spam! It’s What’s for Christmas ©Copyright Lenore Black, 2009

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

4760 Preston Road

Suite 244-149

Frisco, TX 75034

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Paul Richmond   http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com

Cover Design by Mara McKennen

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America

December 2009

eBook Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-328-5