III.
As soon as they'd entered the kitchen, Rebekah insisted Jimmy take a glass of eggnog. He didn't really want it, he didn't like eggnog, but he didn't want to offend her. He carried it around, clutched to himself almost like a security blanket, and took small sips, cringing at every single one. There wasn't even any whiskey in it. Rebekah then proceeded to give Jimmy the 'tour', although the house itself wasn't very large, and there wasn't much in it worth showing off, so the tour basically consisted of, "here's the kitchen…this is the laundry room…backyard…door to the garage…family room…and then upstairs we have…bedrooms!"
Ben and his brothers returned indoors just as Rebekah was finished showing Jimmy the room – Ben's old room – which he and Ben would be sharing during their stay. She opened the door, flicked on the lights, then immediately turned it off again and shut the door.
"I told Matt to clean this room," she grumbled, explaining haggardly to Jimmy with a remorseful shake of her head, "He's been using it as his 'man cave', ever since Tom, Ben's father, turned Hal's old room into his own 'man cave'. I swear, if one of my boys doesn't give me granddaughters…"
She paused, her eyes widening on a sheepish looking Jimmy.
"Sorry…I can't help with that," he mumbled apologetically.
"Oh no…no…hon, I didn't mean…that's why I had three boys, you see, better odds at grandchildren," Rebekah hastily covered then tentatively suggested, "Though…if you two did ever think about…well…there are possibilities like adoption or a surrogate mother. Oh, I would love if you two adopted…"
Jimmy flushed, gaping and stammering, "Uh…Ben and I…we haven't really…talked about..."
"There you are," Ben called, clambering to the top of the stairs. Rebekah and Jimmy turned in surprise at his sudden entrance, both looking abashed. Ben narrowed his eyes suspiciously on them, "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Jimmy hastily choked out. Ben perked a brow at him, obviously unconvinced.
"I was just showing Jimmy your old room," Rebekah spoke up, covering a smile, "It's a little messy in there right now. I'm going to get Matt on cleaning it. Why don't you two help yourselves to cookies and then we are probably going to start decorating the tree as soon as your father gets home, Ben."
"Alright, mom," Ben said.
Rebekah moved past, and hurried down the stairs in search of her youngest son. Ben set his steady gaze on Jimmy. Jimmy lowered his face and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"How you doing? You look ready to bolt," Ben noted.
"Well, yeah, of course I do. I would've bolted already, except your mom took my jacket," Jimmy returned smartly. Ben smirked at that, and then frowned slightly.
"It's not that bad, is it?"
"Hm…? No. No, your family is nice," Jimmy murmured.
Ben grinned, bridging the distance between them and relieving Jimmy of the eggnog glass.
"Why do you have this?" Ben wondered, wrinkling his nose at the creamy concoction.
Jimmy shrugged, "Your mom gave it to me."
"You hate eggnog," Ben pointed out, chuckling, taking a gulp from the glass then setting it on the banister. He closed out all space between them, sliding his arm round Jimmy's waist and pecking him on the lips, "I'm really glad you're here."
"Well, that makes one of us," Jimmy replied sardonically.
Ben smiled broadly, drawing Jimmy into another, more firm and insistent kiss. He parted their lips, easing his tongue in to taste and explore Jimmy's mouth and playfully prod Jimmy's tongue a few times. Jimmy slipped his hands up around Ben's neck, pulling the other boy down in an effort to deepen their contact.
"Oh, gross! Ben," came a disgusted cry from the staircase.
The boys broke apart. Jimmy instantly buried his bright red face in his hand, wiping saliva from his mouth with the other, as Ben reeled on his younger brother.
"And what's so gross about it, Matt?" Ben challenged haughtily.
"What isn't gross about my brother slobbering all over someone else? You two aren't going to be doing that all the time, are you? Because, I swear, between you and Hal, I'm never going to survive this holiday," Matt moaned, then muttered, "And it's a little weird, you're both guys…"
"Keep talking, Matt, and you're right, you won't survive this holiday," Ben growled, "You're fifteen, you little snot, grow up."
"Whatever," Matt replied snidely, "Can I get by so I can clean your room?"
"Sure," Ben quipped, "Be sure to turn down the sheets, and don't miss the spot behind the bed. And if you will, put little mints on our pillow."
"Screw you," Matt muttered, carefully squeezing by Jimmy and darting into the bedroom Rebekah had been showing Jimmy earlier.
"Come on, let's go back downstairs. We don't have to eat any cookies. I don't actually recommend it," Ben suggested, extending his hand to Jimmy.
Jimmy considered the offered appendage a moment, before taking it and allowing Ben to lead him down the staircase and into the family room. Rebekah was in the kitchen loading a new tray of cookies into the oven and Hal had returned to fighting with the Christmas tree.
Jimmy stopped dead at the entry way, eyes sweeping over the disaster in the living room: half the sofa was occupied by a basket of laundry, the coffee table was littered with dirty dishes – some still sporting half eaten food, a couple books, and a magazine spread, there were boxes of tree ornaments and other Christmas decorations open and spilling out all over the place, in a pile in one corner of the room were presents waiting for the tree to be built. There was no fireplace in the house, so the Christmas stockings were pinned to the wall. Ben, feeling the tug on his hand, glanced back at Jimmy questioningly, but before he could say anything, Rebekah swooped in with a plate of cookies. They were oddly shaped, were scratched up and crumbling on one side, clumps of frosting were clumsily smeared on the other.
"No, thanks, mom," Ben excused.
Jimmy delicately picked one off the plate, careful not to get any frosting on his fingers. He smiled thinly and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Mason."
Rebekah went and put the plate on the coffee table, taking away the other dirty plates into the kitchen. As soon as she left the room, Ben took the cookie from Jimmy, shaking his head wearily at the boy, and put it back on the plate.
"You don't have to take everything she offers you," Ben whispered.
"Ben, will you take that laundry basket upstairs to Matt's room," Rebekah haggardly instructed from the kitchen as she turned the faucet on and started clanging dishes around, "I told him to put those clothes away yesterday."
"I'll be right back," Ben told Jimmy quietly, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the basket off the couch and brushed a kiss to Jimmy's cheek in passing, smiling encouragingly at him. Jimmy hovered in the entry way a moment, aware that Hal was watching him, had watched Ben kiss him, and feeling overly humiliated about it.
Eventually, when it looked like Ben wouldn't be "right back", Jimmy mustered his courage and wandered farther into the room. He forced a smile at Hal and wandered into the kitchen, where he found another huge disaster: dirty dishes piled high, dough squashed and splattered everywhere, a plate stacked with dark brown and even some blackened cookies, mixing bowls and measuring cups and coffee mugs still half-filled with stale beverages, and bowls still full of milk and soggy cereal. Rebekah was busily doing the dishes, and she glanced momentarily over her shoulder when Jimmy wandered in.
"Is there anything I can help with?" Jimmy wondered, looking nervously at the mess all around him.
"Oh, no, hon, that's so sweet of you. You're a guest. Go sit down, watch the television, eat some cookies," Rebekah replied, turning the faucet off and drying her hands on a nearby towel, "Do you want some hot cocoa? Or maybe some hot cider? I've got the powder brand of cocoa…and these instant cider bags…"
Jimmy wrinkled his nose at the offerings, and then hastily wiped away the expression, anxious that Rebekah might have noticed it and taken offense.
"Uh…hot cocoa, maybe," he murmured, even as Ben's words moments before rang in his ears: you don't have to take everything she offers…
"Alright, I'll start heating some milk. Did you want marshmallows in it?" Rebekah wondered.
"Marshmallows?" Jimmy repeated, stunned. He'd never put marshmallows in his cocoa. Rebekah smiled at him and guided him back towards the family room with a light touch to his shoulder.
"Go sit down, hon, I'll make your cocoa," she told him. He nodded stiffly, wandering back into the family room.
Hal had disappeared, the tree finished, and the room empty. Jimmy sighed and carefully maneuvered his way around boxes to the sofa. He sat down, and folded his arms over himself, waiting and hoping Ben would return soon. After a few seconds, he started straightening the magazines and stacking the books, mostly for something to do with his hands, but partially because the mess was getting to him. He heard the front door open and froze.