For sugarcross who can't read this at work!
Socks. A tie. A belt. Some money--that was the bright spot--and a new wallet. A used copy of the Communist Manifesto from his hippie uncle.
Those were the kinds of gifts he got for Hanukkah.
He had whined about it once, and his mother nearly had a heart attack, and asked why he would do such a thing to her, to even suggest that when she knew how she felt about gentile holidays, especially that one. Zach dropped the subject and sulked underfoot like a pussy bitch for the next seven days.
The twenty-fifth of December held no real significance other than Chinese takeout and rented movies, so he mounted an escape to a place guaranteed to pull out all the stops on the most commercial of holidays: a family gathering of upper class WASPs.
Kevin, that lucky bastard, had fallen out of the right crotch and was infinitely wealthier than anyone Zach knew, including all of the damn lawyers and bankers in his extended family. He had grown accustomed to his friend's lifestyle by deploying a complicated mental defense mechanism against the sometimes-painful longing and desire, and staying at the mansion eventually became like a highly anticipated but familiar vacation. He didn't even flinch when his friend revealed the new ATV he had gotten that morning--he knew that eventually Kevin would gift it to him. Expensive presents were so commonplace to Kevin that he didn't hold much in high regard, but the things that he did cherish were unusual, and he clung to them with a ferocity that rivaled Zach's attachment to his Froggie.
He had stuffed Froggie in the bottom of his sleeping bag that he had brought with him. Kevin probably knew about that, but didn't say anything.
They ducked around the numerous, increasingly drunk relatives and snuck outside to take the ATV on a test drive. Zach took a spin through the frozen grounds of the estate until his face was chafed from the cold, and quit when he was chucked off after taking a turn too hard. His mother would murder him if he were killed. They grabbed plates of food, evaded more relatives, and escaped to Kevin's room with a pilfered bottle of wine. Unfortunately, they had a tail.
"Kevin, I want to play with you guys. Please." His little sister whined and tugged at his shirt, but he shrugged her off and shut the door in her face. They could hear her starting to cry and stamp her sparkly silver dress shoes. "I'm telling Mommy!" she yelled through the door, and ran away wailing.
Zach smirked; Chrissy would have leveled him if he had tried that with her. "We coulda let her stay."
Kevin took a seat at his desk and fired up his brand new computer. "No, we couldn't."
Ten minutes later they were stuffing their faces and filling up the hard drive with porn.
"Shit," Zach muttered around a mouthful of sugar cookie. It was nice to eat a holiday food that wasn't dripping with oil for a change. "I didn't know they could stretch that much." At fourteen, both boys were virgins, although Kevin had gotten to third base with a girl from their sister school after a junior varsity football game that fall. Zach had made an attempt to touch a boobie once and the girl had started crying; they counted that one as a sacrifice fly.
His friend slanted his head sideways. "I guess it's possible. Although I don't know any circumstances where you would get two of them in there outside of porn."
"We're still young. We have time."
Kevin gave him a long, disgusted look. "Why would you want to? There's another guy involved."
"A girl with an ass like that one could get me to do a lot of things, Kev. Plus, what if I end up being a porn star? I'd have to do double penetration at least once to earn some cred."
"You're sick, Zach."
"Ah, fuck ya. You know what is sick? This stuffing." He shoveled another mouthful in, savoring the forbidden bacon bits mixed in. "Christmas blows Hanukkah away hands down. Less praying, better food, better gifts. Don't get me wrong; I got nothing but mad Jew pride for my chosen people, but I think I'd stab Moses himself in the heart for more of this bacon."
Kevin turned back to his computer, his eyes distant. "It's not better, believe me."
"Bullshit, how can you say that? You got a fucking computer and an ATV. I got to listen to my Nana criticize my sisters for three solid hours."
His friend seemed unsure of how to phrase his next sentence; he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, and then tried again. "Because--"
He was cut off by a knock at the door. Kevin used a shortcut to minimize all windows and turned his chair around, sighing. "Come in."
They were expecting his mother to open the door, undoubtedly furious at them for kicking Serena out, but instead it was Kevin's cousin Trevor who entered the room. He was in his mid-twenties, still attending some private liberal arts college in Vermont, and had one of the sickest cars that Zach had ever seen. Kevin's face darkened; he didn't care much for Trevor, and especially not when he was loaded to the gills and stumbling over himself as he crossed the room.
"Kevin!" Trevor slurred, kicking Zach's sleeping bag out of the way. He noogied his head as he passed. "What's up, Jewboy?"
"Fuck you," Zach said, swiping at his hand, but Trevor had already weaved over to Kevin's chair and draped an arm around the boy.
"What's up, Kev!" He paused and burped, leaning heavily and nearly falling over. "What are you guys looking at, porn?"
"No," Kevin scowled, his face rapidly reddening.
Trevor pinched his cheek. "OH yes you were! You're looking at porno, aren't you, you little bastard?" He stopped, and then slowly grinned. "You little bastard," he repeated, emphasizing the last word.
Zach didn't think it was possible for Kevin's face to get any darker, but it did, until he looked positively ill. Trevor leaned in again, and Zach held his breath.
"Heh. Little bastard. Fits, doesn't it?" He cackled and slapped Kevin on the shoulder. "Come on, man, don't get embarrassed. You know it, I know it, we all fucking know it, man. Your parents, my parents, hell--everyone knows about you, you little bastard." He straightened up and nearly fell. "Does your buddy here know? He probably does, right? Everyone fucking knows, but no one talks about it: it's the Chaston way!"
"Get the fuck out of my room." Despite being more than a decade younger, Kevin easily manhandled his drunken cousin out of the room and slammed the door. He leaned against the frame, and Zach realized with a strange kind of horror that his friend was close to tears.
Kevin sucked in a breath and pulled his composure back in. "That's why I hate fucking Christmas."
Zach wanted to tell him that it was all right, and he had nothing to worry about, but when his mouth popped open, different words came tumbling out. "I think I'm over double penetration. Let's find some tittyfucking on Brazilian girls."
It took Kevin a long time to smile, but when he did, it erased all hints of doubt from his face. "I can get behind that. Can they be blonde?"
"They can be anything you want, man." He picked a piece of bacon out of the stuffing and shoved it in his mouth. "Next year let's skip this bullshit and go to my house. Hope you like potatoes and guilt."