“What the fuck is that.”

The way Brian says it, you’d think I’d brought something dead and rotting in here.

But oh no... this... this... is heaven. Pure bliss in a tin container all wrapped up with wax paper.

Mom’s Christmas baking.

I put my face in the tin again and inhale deeply. The mixed scent of sugar and chocolate and ginger fills my nose and I grin broadly. My stomach leaps at the smell and my mouth starts to water instantly.

“What do you think it is?” I say back, and hold the container out to him.

He peers inside, then pushes at the tin. “Get that shit away from me,” he says, scrunching up his nose and looking away.

“Didn’t your mom ever do Christmas baking when you were a kid?” I ask him, remembering the cake she brought over here that time. My teeth start to hurt just thinking about it — chocolate chocolate chip... about a foot high... covered in icing and filled with fudge. Truly disgusting... and I enjoyed every bite of it. Brian just stared at me in awe, watching as piece after piece disappeared into my mouth.

“Nope. Mom was too fucking drunk at Christmas to be near an oven,” he mumbles and steps onto the treadmill, as if somehow just smelling the cookies will make him gain weight.

“C’mon... you have to remember something,” I push at him.

He puts the treadmill on pause, and starts laughing. “Okay yeah, I do remember something. I remember she made these fucking shortbread cookies once... Jesus Christ. They were hard as hockey pucks. And she was supposed to take them to the Church bake sale, but Jack tried one and threw the whole fucking plate across the kitchen,” his smile starts to fade, and he shakes his head slowly. “I’d rather not remember that shit, actually,” he says, and starts the treadmill up again.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I forget that Brian had a whole life before he met me. Forget that he has a whole part of himself that he’d rather not share... that he runs away from...

“Brian,” I call to him, but he keeps walking. “Hey,” I say again, and he glances over.

“What,” I get the merest of looks, and he continues walking.

“Just try one,” I hold up the tin. “The ginger snaps probably don’t have much fat in them. They’re like a fruit thing, kinda... whatever-the-fuck ginger is,” I go rooting around in the tin for something that looks half-way healthy.

“Here,” I hold up a piece of shortbread with a cherry in the middle of it. “This one’s got fruit on it.”

He stops walking and shuts off the treadmill. “Nice try,” he says, pushing past me, almost knocking the tin out of my hand. “But I’m not eating it.” He sits at the computer and flicks it on, suddenly interested in whatever’s on the screen.

“Fine,” I say, and plop down on the couch, putting the tin in my lap. “They’re a gift for both of us, but if you don’t want any... then you don’t want any. I’m not going to force you.”

“Don’t get any crumbs on the new couch,” he grumbles, and goes back to the computer.

I ignore him, and start sifting through the cookies and squares neatly packed inside the tin. There must be at least six different kinds of stuff in here. I smile as I find the gingerbread cookies – there are two... one for each of us, with our names on the front written in icing. Molly must’ve done it for us.

Makes me think of being a kid and helping my mom out in the kitchen, even before Molly ever came along. Christ... who would’ve ever thought that things would turn out the way they did? I was so naïve as a kid. I mean, all kids are naïve, but I never thought my parents would ever get divorced. And now my Dad has a girlfriend, for fuck’s sakes. Just... crazy.

But some things never change. Like my mom’s baking... and how much she loves me.

God, I am so, so, lucky. I think of Brian and the shit he’s had to go through with his parents. It doesn’t seem fair.

I can’t even try to imagine what Christmas must’ve been like at Brian’s house when he was a kid. I get these melodramatic images in my head that I know are concocted from after school specials about kids who lived in abusive households. Maybe that’s close to the truth... or maybe it was even worse.

Christmas was always awesome at my house. Me and Molly would get so many gifts it was sinful. I used to write up these huge long lists of toys and computer games and I’d always get tons of stuff off the list. Looking back, I realize how spoiled I was. And mom and dad were always there, and sometimes my grandparents too, and we had these silly little rituals like saving our stockings till after dinner and opening a gift on Christmas Eve and singing Christmas carols till midnight...

Fuck, how times have changed.

Don’t get me wrong, we had such a great Christmas yesterday. I mean... it was busy and different, but perfect in lots of ways. We started out at Linds and Mel’s for breakfast and all watched Gus open his gifts. Brian sat on the floor beside him, pulling pieces of discarded paper out of Gus’ way as he unwrapped toy after toy, giggles and smiles bursting across Gus’ face as each one was revealed.

Brian and Lindsay kept looking at each other and smiling... it was really perfect until Brian gave Lindsay a card, and when she opened it, I could see a check slip through her fingers. She looked at Brian and hauled him into the kitchen... the voices got louder and Mel and I stared at the walls and at Gus, pretending we weren’t listening, until Brian finally yelled out: “He’s my son, and I can look after him!”

After that the voices got quiet, and Lindsay came out a couple minutes later, her eyes red with tears and a silly grin on her face. She held Brian’s hand and just stared at him. I know that feeling... I’ve often looked at Brian as though I couldn’t believe how beautiful he is... inside and out...

Then we went to my mom’s for a bit while Molly was at my Dad’s. We sat with her and kept her company and opened up some gifts. She still spoils me, and I tell her not to... try to remind her that I’m 20 now, and way too old for stockings and all that, but she doesn’t listen. She just strokes my hair and tells me that I’ll always be her little boy. I humour her and let her think that way. Sometimes I think it’s all she clings to, with everything that’s changed in both our lives over the past few years.

Molly came bursting in the door, and I looked out the window and saw my Dad’s car driving away... and fuck, you know it kinda hurt me a bit. Hurt me that he wouldn’t even come in and see me, when he knew damn well I was here. He couldn’t even shake my hand and wish me Merry Christmas. I wouldn’t ask him for anything, and certainly don’t expect anything from him. Not anymore. I never will again.

You know, before... I never understood how Brian could just shut himself off from his dad. And now... I get it. I don’t hate my dad. He’s my father and always will be, no matter what. But the relationship that we could’ve had once, is long gone, blasted away forever by his homophobia and ignorance. He might not have smacked me around, but sometimes I think the things he said to me... the complete unacceptance of who I am... the way he tried to shame me and humiliate me and force me to be someone that I’m not... sometimes I think that was almost worse. I know he’s disappointed in me. I know he wishes I wasn’t the way I am. But he knows that I won’t ever change. And I think he hates me a little for that.

When it got time, all four of us went to Debbie’s, and that was the kind of Christmas I want to have every year. Everyone was there — Linds, Mel and Gus, Emmett, Michael, Ben and Hunter, Vic and Rodney. Deb and Vic had been cooking for days and we all ate in the living room with our plates on our laps and it was about the best Christmas dinner I’d ever had. So many people talking all at once and laughing and getting tipsy on homemade wine and eating way, way too much.

Brian and I sat in the corner, squished together in an armchair and just watched everything. It kept creeping into my head that I’d spent the entire day with Brian and he hadn’t gone to see his mom or his sister once. I wondered if he’d been thinking about them, or if they were the furthest thing from his mind. I didn’t want to ask.

Finally we struggled home, so fucking full I was sure I’d never eat again, begrudgingly carrying the Tupperware containers filled with turkey and stuffing and cannelloni and apple pie that Debbie loaded us up with.

We got home and exchanged our own gifts... I honestly hadn’t thought Brian would get me anything, but was surprised when he slipped me a card. I hesitantly opened it up and two tickets to Vermont fell into my lap. The card was simple...

“I promised.”

That was it.

That was enough.

I gave him the piece I’d done on the computer. An abstract of a nude—Brian of course, but it wasn’t obvious to anyone but me. I told him I’d do enough to eventually fill the space left by the naked guy painting.

He grinned and kissed me and told me it was the best gift ever.

And really... in so many ways... it was the best Christmas ever.

And now it’s tomorrow. And the magic that Christmas brings is over. Sort of.

I savour one of my mom’s shortbread cookies.

Then another.

I can make it last a little longer...

I feel warmth behind me and twist my head to look up. Brian’s looking down at me, shaking his head.

“You are so going to be fat one day,” he says, snatching the half-eaten cookie out of my hand.

I laugh and grab another one from the tin. “No I’m not. I’ll go to the gym with you... starting January 1. That’s my New Year’s resolution,” I bite into a chocolate cookie, and catch the crumbs as they sprinkle down my shirt.

“Oh yeah... I’ll believe it when I see it,” Brian growls and leaps over the back of the couch to sit beside me. He nibbles at the cookie and nods his head. “Damn, these are good.”

“Told you,” I say, holding the tin out for him, but he reaches past and grabs the rest of the cookie in my hand.

“You know, there are just as many calories in two halves of my cookies as there are in one whole one,” I watch as he nibbles the chocolate.

“Whatever,” he grins and shoves the cookie in his mouth. “Mmmm good,” he says, licking crumbs from his lips.

I hold the tin out to him again, but he shakes his head slowly.

“So... what do you want to do today? Wanna check out the sales?” I put the tin on the new coffee table.

He shakes his head again... a small smile forming on his lips.

“Wanna go visit Gus?” I try again, but still he doesn’t answer.

Just looks at me.

“Look at online catalogues for a new dining table?” We’ve slowly been buying new furniture now that Brian’s got a job and we’ve both got money coming in.

Still... he gives me no response.

“What then?” I say, and he starts crawling towards me slowly... putting his hand on my chest and easing me back into the soft cushions.

His lips find mine and he kisses me softly, the taste of chocolate and sugar covering his lips and tongue.

“You taste like Christmas,” I whisper into his lips. He pulls back a little and smiles, then reaches for the tin.

He pulls out a particularly gooey cookie, chocolate with a marshmallow center, and holds it in front of my face.

I can smell the chocolate... the sugar...

“You gonna eat that?” I ask, my tongue darting out over my lips.

He smirks at me and brings the cookie to my lips... I open my mouth and take a bite, lifting my head as marshmallow frosting drips out of the cookie and down my chin.

But Brian’s tongue is there to lap it up, and he licks my chin and takes the frosting away.

He brings the cookie to my lips for another bite. I bite it in half again, but he pulls it away before my lips can close and more marshmallow lands on my chin...

... and he leans in and licks it up again...

Hmmm... I let my eyes slip shut... he cups my jaw in his palm and runs his tongue across my skin... I chew and swallow then gasp out for air...

“Really, really good,” he says, popping the last bite into his mouth.

“Fuck the cookies,” I growl, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him to me for a hard, messy kiss, chocolate and marshmallow frosting smearing across our lips and faces.

He slides his arm under my back and pulls me close to him, spreading his body out on the couch and lying between my legs.

We kiss and kiss and kiss... our dicks hard, pressing against our bodies, warm and pulsing and I feel so good knowing there is a future. Feeling comfort that we have each other.

Knowing that neither one of us is going anywhere...

That we’re together...

God... I hope every Christmas can be as good as this.