Page 44 of A Merry Christmas for Art… and His Tentacles

I laugh. “More like a matter of minutes.”

The doorbell rings again, and the process of hugs and holiday greetings starts all over again and continues in quick succession as everyone arrives. I think Art must have texted his parents and his cousin about the hugs, because when his parents arrive they jump right into hugging everyone, and they’re only slightly awkward.

Lisa, on the other hand, firmly puts out her hand for a handshake before anyone can hug her. It almost flusters my mother, but she recovers. Once she finds out Lisa travels and plays chess, they end up chatting about different countries and cultures.

I think my mother even wins over Lisa, and I wouldn’t be totally shocked if she gets a hug at the end of the night. (Only slightly shocked.)

The food is ready after everyone arrives, and we all sit down to a Christmas feast. We gorge ourselves on our traditional Christmas food—turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, green beans, candied sweet potatoes—but there’s also a selection of seafood for Art’s family, and everyone eats until they’re groaning. We drink hot apple cider and mulled wine and eggnog, and Art’s family even takes part in the fun little secret Santa gift exchange my family does.

For the gift exchange we choose numbers and then can take gifts from other people, and it actually gets quite cutthroat. Lisa’s competitive nature comes into play, and I can tell she enjoys the entire thing. There’s a monetary limit on the gift exchange, and for his secret Santa Art brought a different type of plant from the one he gave me. It’s actually one of the most fought over gifts, with everyone stealing it from everyone else until eventually my Uncle Owen ends up with it, smiling and laughing.

Art and I snuggle up on the couch, watching the holiday chaos after the gift exchange is over. My father is setting out desserts while having an intense discussion with Art’s mom. They seem to be talking about stocks and retirement plans, and they both look totally enthusiastic.

Art’s dad is questioning my mom about the fruit cake. “But if it’s hard as a rock and disgusting, why do you buy it for dessert?”

My mom laughs and tries to explain the tradition of fruit cake, but Art’s dad does not look convinced.

Lisa is sitting at a table with Uncle Owen playing a game of checkers. They’re both glaring at each other between moves, and Uncle Owen occasionally takes a sip of whiskey before glaring again.

“Should we go and intervene with your uncle? Lisa has been known to make her opponents cry,” Art murmurs to me.

I just chuckle. “Uncle Owen is up to the challenge. He was a drill sergeant.”

Lisa beats him, and Uncle Owen downs his whiskey before telling her, “You are a formidable opponent with a strategic mind. I like that.”

They end up talking about other strategic games while we all get up to grab dessert. My mom even added crab rangoon to the desserts this year, thinking Art’s family might like it. Sure enough, it’s one of the first desserts to go.

While Art is talking to my mom, my dad sidles up next to me. He puts his arm around my shoulder. “We’re so happy for you, Dean. Art is wonderful, and so is his family. His mother and I had such a good chat. His cousin is a little intense, but we’ve got Uncle Owen, so we can’t complain,” he chuckles.

I chuckle along with him, looking at Uncle Owen and Lisa debating whether Chinese checkers or backgammon requires more skill.

“We’ll have to do a dinner with just us soon. We definitely want to get to know your partner better.” My dad smiles as he says it, and I’m so glad that my parents have always supported me.

I put my arm around him, giving him a hug. “Thanks, Dad.”

As we look out over the Christmas chaos of the two families gathered together, I’m so thankful that Art is part of my life. I’ve always loved Christmas, but having him to share the holiday with has made it that much more wonderful.

Art

I kind of get it. When Dean is sitting in his parents’ crowded living room, our families crammed into the tiny space, his face alight with happiness, the magic of Christmas makes sense to me. It still isn’t my holiday, and I’d never celebrate it without him, but it’s nice when Dean is around.

After all the cookies have been eaten, and it’s time to go back home, Dean and I cuddle on his couch. The silence and the warmth of his body feel good after such a busy day. He rubs his hand along my back and kisses the top of my head. I feel loved. It’s such an intense sensation, I don’t know what to do with all the emotion in my chest.

“I would like to fuck you with my tentacles, Dean Miller.”

He laughs. “Would you, now?”

“Yes. Forcefully.”

He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight. “Good. I want that too. Should we go to your apartment to do it in the tub or stay here?”

I have to think about that for a minute. Underwater sex is inherently better, but I’m feeling too lazy to go to my apartment. “Here.”

He considers me for a moment. “How would you feel about humoring a silly fantasy of mine?”

“What kind of fantasy?”

He shrugs. “I’ve always wanted to have sex in front of the Christmas tree. It seems cozy.”

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