Page 14 of A Kiss For The Holidays

“Remember that time you insisted we join the Scouts?” I stop what I'm doing to look at Dalton. He throws his head back, laughing in that open way that is so him.

“I'd never forget that! That was the first time we ever went camping. I was so sure you would hate it, but you were so enthralled by everything the Scout Leader said, I thought we'd never get you home. We had some great times as Scouts, I can’t remember why we quit.” His gaze drifts off, like he’s lost in a memory, before snapping back to me.

“Because you entered your ‘I want to be in the navy phase’ and you swapped to the Sea Scouts instead. I stayed on for a bit, but it wasn’t the same without you.” I shrug, recalling the disappointment I’d felt that day he’d told me he wanted to try something else, again.

“Do you remember that time you filled in for someone on the rugby team? What were we, fourteen?” I ask, watching my best friend fiddling with a can, tearing at the label while he thinks.

“Fifteen. That was an epic match, I was pretty damn good at it too.”

Dalton’s eyes narrow at me when I bark out a loud laugh. “You were a bench warmer! I think you saw ten minutes of time on the field, if that.” For three months after his ten minutes of fame, Dalton was convinced he would be the next Johnny Wilkinson. He joined our town’s rugby practice, got fully kitted out and then…. he discovered basketball.

Of all the things Dalton has joined, tried and thrown himself into over the years, being my best friend and playing football have been the only things to ever stick.

The porridge starts bubbling up to the edges of the pot and I stir it a while longer before adding a little more water and a glob of honey. Breakfast is going to be… interesting.

“You’re going to need to pretend this has milk in it.” I say to Dalton.

“Sounds delightful,” he replies while opening a tin of peaches. “Fruit on the side?” Dalton drops a slice of peach into his mouth, licking the syrup from his plump lips and my eyes hone in on the movement. I’m instantly drawn back to this morning when he leaned over me and pressed those same sinful lips to my stomach. I won’t forget asingle moment of our tryst, safekeeping every touch and every groan.

My attention still on Dalton, I reach for the pot, not realising the flame has reached the handle, heating it to a dangerous level. “Fuck!” I exclaim, ripping my hand back from the hot metal and pulling my stinging fingers to my chest.

“Shit!” Dalton places the peaches on the counter and bounds over to me, gripping my hand between his two and pulling me towards the tap. He runs cold water over them and I wince at the pain when the coolness hits my skin.

“First you fall down a hill, now you burn yourself. What am I going to do with you?” His voice is playful and when I meet his eyes, they’re sparkling like snowflakes on a sunny day. I watch with butterflies dancing in my chest as Dalton pulls his hand up and takes my finger into his mouth, sucking on one finger than the other. His eyes don’t leave mine and I swallow thickly, my throat growing dry as he closes his eyes and sucks my finger harder. My dick perks up and I shuffle to turn my body away from him just as he opens his eyes and releases my hand.

“All better now.” Dalton smirks and returns to the pot of porridge which is now burned to a cinder. “Looks like we’re just having peaches for breakfast.” He dumps the pot in the sink and pours the tinned fruit into two bowls.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest we have sausages too, but my best friend is a big child sometimes and I can only imagine the response he’d have to that. I chuckle to myself as I follow Dalton back out to the lounge and sit next to him on the sofa.

“I’m glad I’m stuck here with you, Ash. I wouldn’t want to be trapped in a cabin with anyone else.” He smiles at me and I melt inside, unlike the snow blocking our path home.

“Same, Dalt. Even if I know I’m going to have to put up with your hangry ass soon enough.”

Dalton snorts as he eats the last of his peaches. “There’s always the sausages,” he jokes, winking at me and I laugh.

“Yeah, there’s always the sausages.”

We sit in silence for a moment, me watching the snow falling, Beate tucked up next to me. She smells like wet dog, but I don’t hold that against her - she’s just as stuck here as we are.

“Are you ready to talk about the elephant?” Dalton asks and I turn my body towards him, my brow raised in question.

“The elephant?”

“Yeah, Ash, the big, fat, ‘I-jerked-off-my-best-friend’, sized elephant in the room.” My cheeks flush at his words - and at the memory. I swallow thickly, knowing I haveno way of escaping this conversation.

Fuck you very much snowstorm. Fuck you very much.

Chapter 12

Dalton

Ican tell by the way he’s looking at me, that Asher would rather we don’t bring up our little moment this morning, but I can’t do that, not when it’s the only thing I can think about.

I’ve accepted that I feel things for him that transcend friendship, even if I don’t understand these emotions entirely. Do I love him the way he loves me, could I bein lovewith him? I’m not sure yet. Nor do I know what my newly revealed feelings mean for my sexuality. Not that I’ve ever put a label on myself.

My dad explained sexuality to me when I was twelve. He said it was a spectrum, a long line and we could sit anywhere on the line or, we could move along it. With his explanation in mind, I never felt the need to determine exactly where I sat. And even now, with my feelings for Asher sharpening, I still don’t feel the need. I’ve never told Asher this - and I’m not sure why - after all, he came out to me all those years ago so the opportunity to talk about sexuality was there, but I just never did.

Asher shifts uncomfortably in his seat, crossing his legs then uncrossing them, then folding them under him. The dog, who had been comfortably asleep next to him, grunts then hops off the sofa and hobbles closer to the fireplace.

---