Sorry for not getting this out sooner. Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Your support means the world to me! Hope you like this chapter.
"Still got the Rolls?" John asked Martha.
"Sure do."
"Babe, you wanna go shopping with me?" he stood behind me, draping his arms over my shoulders, hands clasped in front of my chest.
"Sure," I turned my attention to Lafayette, currently playing on the floor with Ellie, "you wanna go, Laf?"
"I have the baby's attention, you two go and enjoy being alone."
Bless that man.
"Let's go." John took my hand and led us to the garage that still held the far too expensive car.
I buckled myself in and tried to prepare myself to be in the car with John, "where are we going?"
"I need presents for all these yahoos." He grinned over at me.
Fuck… I didn't even think about that... Or budget it. I crunched numbers in my mind, careful calculations, eyes darting from side to side as I mentally projected the information.
"Hey," he interrupted me, apparently sensing my rising stress, and took my hand across the center console, "from us. We're an us now."
I bit my lip around a smile and looked at him, "us."
He winked at me and put the car in reverse, once out of the garage he kept reversing, not turning around for the long driveway like a normal person, gunning the engine, speed climbing into the 30s.
"Please don't kill me on Christmas Eve. Most of my life has been a sick joke, but that's a little much even for me." I clutched the strap of the seat belt pressed against my chest.
"You're fine. Perfectly safe." He threw the shifter from reverse to drive and spun the car around, gravel kicking up and tinking against the paintjob worth more than my education.
We were on the winding county road, I refused to look at the speedometer, instead watching the fire in John's eyes as he opened a hand to slide it around the steering wheel on turns - ignoring the lurch in my stomach - or how his eyes would narrow, tongue flicking out between his lips as he inched the speed a little more. I scooted back in the seat, praying that it would give a little more room to my jeans as they became more and more constricting.
"You trying to kill us is one of the biggest turn ons I didn't know I had."
He laughed, "I am not trying to kill you."
John's hand pulled away from my own and slid up my thigh to between my legs, feeling the hardness there. He quirked an eyebrow, tongue darting across his full bottom lip. He turned sharply, hand never leaving my crotch.
"Changed my mind." He bit his lip and took the car up a steep ascent, thick with trees, hand fondling me through my jeans.
"About killing me?"
"No, dummy, about where we're going."
We finally arrived at the top, a clearing that overlooked the Ashley River, he parked in the tiny parking lot, packed dirt, enough space for three cars. He unclipped himself and got out.
"Come here, Alex!" He called, looking out at the river.
Hesitantly, I got out of the car. The bluff we stood on provided a beautiful view of the river and the quaint shopping district below.
"It's beautiful… but why are we here?"
He took my hand and led me back to the car, though, this time to the backseat.
"'Cause all the bad kids in Charleston know this is the make out spot. Come up here, smoke a blunt, look up at the stars from the bed of a pick up and do the deed. No one comes up here with pure intentions."
"Did you really just say 'bed of a pick up'?" I asked as he threw a leg over me, straddling me, his head craned awkwardly in the short car.
"Sure did, now switch me places, you're littler than me."
"I'm not little!" I insisted, complying with request anyway.
He palmed me through my jeans, "no, you're not, babe. God damn."
"Why don't we just move this party to the floor?" I gestured around him, the floorboards were more like a small hallway.
"Don't care, just want you." He peeled my shirt off.
I pulled his off as well, grinding down on him, desperate for some kind of friction. He kicked his shoes off and slid us to the floor, me still on top of him. I yanked his pants off, his legs fell open, cock standing at attention. He bit his lip and looked up at me with lust hooded eyes.
"Alexander?" He breathed into my neck.
"Yeah, John?" I tucked our discarded clothing under his head.
"Wanna be on top, babe, please?"
"Mm, you got it." We switched places, grinning at the awkwardness that was car sex.
I lie on the clothing nest and let John situate himself between my legs, he sucked on his fingers before reaching them toward me, he lie across me, our warm chests together, his fingers traipsing my sensitive skin.
"No lube, sorry, babe, I'll be gentle."
My back arched at the pressure, the burn, I dug my nails against the curve of his tricep.
"You okay?" He asked, fingers slowing their ministrations.
"Yes, goddammit, Laurens don't stop." I hissed.
The inherent roughness of the scratchy car carpeting against my back and the absence of lube made me grow harder between us, he wasn't usually rough, that wasn't a bad thing - proved to me it didn't have to be rough to get me off - but god it's a nice change of pace.
"Feeling okay?" He looked into my face with those hazel doe eyes, long lashes painting shadows across his face in the low hanging sunshine.
"I'm good, I'm ready. Please just fuck me."
"My Alexander, alway impatient, always insatiable." He slid his fingers free and licked a small stripe across his palm, suddenly bashful.
I grabbed his hand and spat in his palm, "get over it, fuck me already. Jesus fucking Christ."
He stared at his hand and shrugged, stroking his cock to coat it. With the base in hand he guided himself in, I raked pink lines down his chest, our moans mingling in the close confines of the car.
"Feels good?" He brushed hair back from my forehead, trying to find his pace.
"So good. Harder." I pleaded.
His eyes widened, "I don't want to hurt you, Alex."
"Fuck it. Hurt me. Just, God, need more." I hitched a leg up on the backseat giving him more access.
He sped up a little bit, rolling his hips in a flick at the end of each stroke, finding my prostate. Better. He smiled down at me and kissed me. My kiss turned hungrier, tongue reaching out toward his, desperate for every ounce of connection. Still athirst for more, I gripped his hips firmly, plunging them toward me, bucking my own hips up to meet him. I bit his lip, tugging his face closer to mine.
"You make me feel so fucking good." I threw back my head.
"Holy shit." He gasped.
"John, Jesus." My stomach clenched.
"Alex, Alex-" He breath caught.
Our orgasms chased each other, leaving behind a tangled, sweaty, heaving mess of the two of us.
"I love you, querido." I kissed his forehead, licking the saltiness off my lips.
He pulled his shirt on after examining the raising red marks down his chest, "I love you, too. Damn, don't think I've ever fucked anyone that hard, I mean, been fucked that hard, but I've never done it."
"Fun, isn't it?" I could feel how dark with lust my eyes were as I pulled on my own clothes.
He nodded, still breathless.
Finally dressed we got out of the car, I lit a cigarette and leaned a hip against the hood. He stood behind me, arms around my waist, chin on my shoulder, looking out at the river.
"I can't believe we're here. This was the best surprise ever. Thank you so much, love."
"Anything for you, mi amor. Merry Christmas, it's best I've got." I flicked the cigarette on the ground where it lie surrounded by blunt shells, the roaches of joints, condom wrappers, broken beer bottles, emptied airplane bottles and other riff raff refuse.
"Te amo." He leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
"Te amaré siempre." I turned to face him.
"Forever's a long time." He smirked.
"Not with you, querido… With you, it's barely long enough."
He kissed me, hand on the small of my back, the other tangled in my hair. Eventually we came up for air and his hand left my hair to join the other on the small of my back.
"Para siempre."
I grinned up at him.
"We should get going." I reminded him.
"I suppose. Kinda just want to take out more of my daddy issues on you."
"I mean, hey, if you fuck me like that again, I'm game."
"It's the car, the car helps."
"It's a badass car."
"Well, and I was barely even allowed to ride in it," he laughed, "and now I'm laying my boyfriend in it. Suck it!"
"You know, you've crossed off a sexual exploit for me." I smirked at him.
"Really?"
I nodded, "never had sex in a car before. It's impractical, but it's fun."
"You never had sex in a car?"
I shook my head, "New Yorker since I was seventeen, didn't have too terribly many sexual encounters before then."
"Whoa. I lost my virginity in a car. I realized I wasn't straight in a car."
"Nope, not me, I never had a car to go to."
"I guess my dad's a big part of the reason why, too, though. I mean I had to sneak everywhere."
"No more sneaking. I mean, we just did it in his car."
"We sure did."
He took his place behind the wheel, I sat across from him. Acutely aware of my soreness, I smiled to myself and shifted my weight to a hip. He noticed the repositioning.
"You sure you're alright?"
"I'm golden." I reassured him.
He took the car down the steep hill and continued the journey into the shopping district, finding what he called 'rock star parking'. We strolled down the same cobblestone streets as we had when we went shopping for Polly's funeral dress, the ice cream parlour now closed for the winter. We walked hand in hand, me rubbing a circle across the back of John's hand any time people looked at us cross eyed, his hand tightening on mine, willing me silently to bite my tongue. We found gifts for his siblings and niece.
"I have presents for you and Lafayette at home… but they're hidden," he bit his lip.
"I don't need a present, querido. You're my gift."
"Holidays are making you soft, love." he nudged me gently with his shoulder.
"No, that's all you."
He giggled.
"Really, John? I'm trying to be sweet and you can't keep your mind out of the gutter? This is why I'm not sweet."
"I'm sorry, I just, you make it easy."
Giving into the opportunity I whispered in his ear, letting my lips brush the shell, "only because you're easy."
I felt his shudder and smirked to myself. Don't try and out wordplay me, sucker. I'm the goddamn wordplay king.
Once we got back home, it was long dark, Lafayette was napping on the couch, his hair braided into little cornrows, handiwork that John deduced had to belong to Polly. Martha was on the floor in bleach stained yoga pants, hair twisted on top her head, surrounded by gifts and wrapping paper.
"Need any help, Pats?" John sat on the floor across from her.
"That would be great, David got called into the clinic, I guess there was a really bad pileup on 52 and there were a lot of injuries. I hope he's home by morning." She handed John a roll of tape.
"You don't wrap do you?" John turned his attention to me.
"Don't you remember that I rolled up your birthday present in a Fairway Market sack?" I reminded him.
"Right. Okay, well, you're off the hook."
I patted his back and went outside for a cigarette, the air held a coolness to it, far warmer than anything New York would be seeing this time of year. As I smoked, I fell into a rabbit hole. Us.
Us happy.
Us together.
Three of us.
I couldn't quite clear the fog that hung between me and the picture in my mind, but could make out enough for the warmth blooming in me to scare me as I sat, swinging lightly on the porch swing. Mind circling back to Harry asking us about kids.
Three of us, hands linked together, so little, between John and I. The sound of John's laughter, a smaller laugh with the same cadence. Strolling through Central Park, little one chasing the geese while John and I stood nearby nestled into the embrace of one another. John and I in a similar spot as Martha, frazzled on Christmas Eve, John fretting over the wrapping while I worked to make cookies look eaten. Me, showing how letters are formed, reminding which way the bowl faces on a 'little b' versus a 'little d'.
My cigarette had put itself out at the filter. I lit another, actually remembering to smoke this one, trying to clear the fantasies from my mind. The fantasies of us, of what could be. I started listing off all the reasons why it could never be, should never be, not the least of which was me, halfway functional, not really role model material, certainly no qualifier for parent of the year… but to deny John of that? Harry said it out loud, John's always wanted to be a dad.
As if drawn by my internal conflict, John materialized on the porch with me.
"This seat taken?" He asked, sitting down.
"Is now."
"Whatcha thinking about, babe?"
"Ghosts of Christmas Future." I flicked ash off the end of my smoke.
"Oh, yeah? Like what?" He cozied up to me.
"Like, I don't know, what life will be like."
"What do you want it to be like?"
"Want you to be there." It wasn't a lie.
"Good. I want to be there." He tucked my hair behind my ear.
"Almost midnight, want a Christmas present?"
"What's that?"
"I was thinking something in the orgasm category."
"I'm always down." I agreed enthusiastically.
We settled ourselves upstairs and curled up in bed, relaxing into each other.
"What's that sound, John?" I sat up listening to the thumping sound emanating through the walls.
"Shh… Shh... " John turned his head and started giggling quietly.
A hushed voice audible through the wall now, breathing heavily and laughing.
"What is that?" I couldn't quite make it out.
John dissolved into a fit of giggles and whispered, "I'd know that shit anywhere."
"Is that…" I trailed off.
"That, my love, is my best friend having skype sex with Hercules."
I opened my mouth and shut it, repeating the gesture twice, "are you serious?"
The thumping became more rhythmic, definitely skype sex.
"This is not my first rodeo, watch this."
John looked like he was doing complicated trigonometry in his mind and reached behind the headboard, sliding his hand across the wall, "there it is."
"What?" I whispered.
"The perfect spot." He grinned at me and smacked the wall as hard as possible, one of his cross country plaques swayed on its hook on the wall and there was a yelp that could only have belonged to Lafayette - or maybe Polly - and the thump of a body hitting the floor.
John erupted into a fit of giggles and doubled over on me. I cracked a smile and laughed back. An earth shattering bang crashed against the wall, the cross country plaque threatening to fall. John laughed harder and tapped a pattern out on the wall, it was returned.
"What is this? Morse code?" I rolled my eyes.
"No, hold on, it means we want to talk to each other." John moved a painting - his own work - off the wall, revealing a little hole in the plaster, he peered into it.
"Bonsoir." Lafayette chuckled from his room into the hole in the wall.
"Hi." John replied.
"Joyeux Noël!" I offered to him.
He wished me a Merry Christmas as well. I could still hear Hercules on the laptop, shouting in the background, desperate for answers about what had happened.
"So, why do you have a glory hole to Lafayette's bedroom?" I asked of John.
"It's not a glory hole, you spazz, it's so we could still talk when I got in trouble and got sent to my room." John explained.
"You're strange."
"Hey, you get lonely when you're stuck in your room for a week." He pointed out.
"So you went full Shawshank?"
"I mean pretty much."
"This is like 'V For Vendetta' crazy."
"Are you through with tormenting me now?" Lafayette asked, exasperated.
"For now." John agreed and hung the painting back up.
"Damn, you had a crazy upbringing." I shook my head.
He shrugged, "is what it is. Didn't you ever get in trouble?"
"With who? My dad bailed when I was little, my mom died. What, my cousin was supposed to discipline me? I grew up buck wild."
"I guess I forget that sometimes."
"Lucky you, I've spent a lot of time trying not to remember, but I'm here now. Made it out. Things are good."
"They sure are." He swathed me in his arms.
"Feliz Navidad." I smiled at him in the lamplight.
"Merry Christmas, Alexander."