Chapter 26: Christmas Eve
A/N: Here it is, the first part of the long awaited Christmas chapter! As I specified on tumblr, this will be a two part thing where the following chapter takes place on Christmas Day. I don't know exactly when chapter 27 will be released but I'm hoping soon enough. I pushed through an extreme case of writer's block for this so I hope you all enjoy it!
A person has to really love books and reading for them to truly appreciate working in a bookstore. It's been over two weeks since you started and so far you were loving it. Just having the job really made a difference. It's not even one of those jobs where you feel you need to scroll on your phone as a means to pass the time either. The work hours are manageable with you choosing to work for five days a week for seven hours. The pay is surprisingly good as well. It's undoubtedly one of the easiest, most fulfilling jobs you've ever had.
Although it's a smaller, more independent bookstore it was still quite popular. You're charged with keeping the shelves stocked and handling storage downstairs. Ethan's been extremely instrumental in helping you get adjusted. You've come to find out that you and him have similar interests in books, music, and some hobbies.
Ethan told you about the old couple that owns the store. Apparently, they have five other businesses they've been running for years. It wasn't until you actually met them that you finally understood what he meant about them being very funny acting people. One day the previous week they came into the store, a middle aged husband and wife. Judging but the looks on their faces, they weren't expecting to see you. You could tell that they were less enthusiastic about Ethan talking it upon himself to employ you without their permission. However, after seeing the exceptional work you and Ethan had done both up and downstairs, any complaints were not immediately voiced.
You get the feeling that they don't really like Black people or at least act like they have to 'tolerate' them instead of interacting like a normal person. The pair were certainly old enough to have that mentality. As much as you disliked the idea of working for two potential racists, you're not willing to let the presumption drive you away so soon.
Business has been slow since two o'clock and you don't expect any more customers to come in until closing, which is in less than thirty minutes. Because who would be in a bookstore on Christmas Eve? As much as you love working in the place, you can't wait until your shift is over.
Alexis and Jasmine had been by a few times to joke and purposely give you a headache for no reason before leaving. It felt so long since you'd seen them in person with the three of you being preoccupied with life and all. It was then you informed your friends about the intention to have John spend the holidays with your family. The idea was met with intrigue and vehemence.
The fall semester was over for them and they couldn't be more relieved about it. From what they told you, the school term had ended well for them and they were looking forward to the holiday break. Even though you were happy for them that they were one step closer, you in fact felt like you'd taken a step back. You had to shake the intrusive thoughts away before they had a chance to take root again. You well past feeling that way, particularly when you don't have time to feel sad. Not when you had less than a few weeks until the new semester would start and you could resume your internship.
When spring registration opened you literally wasted no time despite not knowing how you'd maintain a full time job and an internship but you had faith that it would all work out in some way. Even if you had to switch your schedule around some. All you know is that you're well beyond the point of stressing.
Additionally, you always look forward to going home and telling John all about your day even if you did the same exact things as the previous one. He still sat there and listened each time. You doubted that you'd be telling him about your day this time, you had other things on your mind. You recalled the conversation you had with him about the invitation weeks prior…
You hadn't meant to appear visibly nervous but you just don't know how he'd react to you extending him this sort of invitation. And you're aware that it may be well out of his comfort zone. After much consideration, you suppose the worst thing that could happen was him politely declining the offer.
"It won't be like Thanksgiving, it'll just be the four of us, er five if you count Sweetface."
There's not much you're asking him for but you're human and like many others, you still fear being told no. Primarily with that first resounding no still fresh in your mind, you've managed to develop a conscious fear of rejection. You just don't want him excluded from anything.
"Family has always been a big thing with me. I want my parents to get to know you better and it's really important that they like you. So um…would you be willing to come?"
Although you were unquestionably afraid to ask him, you didn't actually expect him to show any resistance.
"Yeah."
There would be no questioning - this would be a huge step toward him becoming an actual member of your family. The prospect of which is more appealing than anything.
You know better than anyone that it doesn't have a family to celebrate the occasion with, by means of this, your family can become his family.
Christmas this year was certainly going to be interesting.
It had to be acknowledged that Christmas snuck up on you fairly quickly but it wasn't like you weren't already somewhat prepared for it. You were up late last night wrapping all the presents you expertly hid in the house and you're content knowing that everyone's Christmas presents were already secure, wrapped, and ready to be placed under the tree at your parents house. You're not one to brag but you think you did pretty good picking out gifts this year.
Buying someone a gift is a way to show love and appreciation. It's not about how much money you spent on them, it's about the way your gratitude and admiration is conveyed.
Your last task of the day consisted of placing returned books back into their designated place on the shelves. So far you think you've mastered the art in just under two weeks. It's also become a form of comfort that you're extremely fond of.
On a more positive note, Jasmine had implied that she was interested in Ethan. She's outgoing and friendly and he's a nice guy with a great sense of humor. You think they might actually make a cute couple.
"I think my friend likes you." You tell him.
"Which one?" He asks, picking up a book and stationing it on the rack. "The one that clowned my 'struggling mustache' or the one that gave me the stank face when I introduced myself."
"The one that clowned you was Alexis, she's fun. The one I'm talking about is Jasmine." You laughed.
"So Miss stank face likes me?"
"Don't worry about that look, it just means that she likes you." You explain, a smirk marring your lips.
Ethan snickered, grabbing the nearby broom and sweeping along the corridor. "Oh is that really what that means?"
You gave him a look. "Yeah, you know she's just not going to come out and say it."
"I don't see why not, she bold enough to be making faces." He firmly asserts.
"Don't talk about my friend." You warned, pointing a finger in his direction. "Plus you know us girls shoot our shot just by looking. We're not going to flat out tell a guy we like them. You gotta read between the lines." You explained motioning with your hands.
"Why we gotta do all that? It would make it so easy for y'all to come out and say it."
"Because! The guys are usually the pursuers." You explained as you placed one of the books in the music section.
"It just sounds like y'all like being difficult for no reason." He enunciated with the handle of the broom in both hands.
"Of course you'd see it that way. You're a guy."
"Just consider yourself lucky because I don't go out of my way to hook my friends up with anyone."
His eyes gleamed with zeal. "I'm honored. Tell me more about her."
"Well she's smart for one so the usual stuff that most girls fall for won't work on her. Trust me, she knows the game. She's also one of the most honest and loyal people I know. She's working as a CNA on track to become a LNP so you already know how that goes."
"I do actually. My mom's a registered nurse." He remarks. "They all got a certain way about em."
"Not all women are the same and not all of them are open books Ethan."
A smile begins to pull at his lips. "I know…to me that's what makes them so great. You get to peel back all the little layers about them and find out who they truly are."
You considered his words briefly, not all men took the time to actually try and get to know the person they're interested in. He must be a part of that percentage that took it upon themselves to do so. You pondered the thought as you pulled the cart containing books that needed to be placed back on the shelves.
The upper parts of the bookstand were way too high for someone of your stature to reach.
Grabbing one the few remaining books from the carrier, you strained to shelve in its proper place, standing on your tiptoes for an extended period before the discomfort of doing so became intolerable. You tried for another thirty seconds until you felt the urge to give up. Unexpectedly, another hand enveloped your own that held the book and angled it higher to slide the book into place. You turned to look at him over your shoulder. He made direct eye contact with you, the unmistakable glint in his gaze obvious. Even after the book was on the shelf, Ethan's hand lingered around yours, fingers sliding over your skin ever so slightly.
You quickly pull your hand away, clearing your throat so it wouldn't be perceived as awkward. In that moment, an unknown feeling rushes through you. It's a feeling you really can't afford to breathe life into - you're willing to just let it pass until it fades into nothing.
"So um…what are your plans for Christmas?" He asks as if nothing had happened.
And you, not wanting to show that you were slightly uncomfortable, indulged him. "I'm staying at my parents house…doing christmassy things."
"Sounds like fun."
"Yeah." You murmured, attention focused solely on your work. It was done mostly to avoid looking him in the face.
The space lapsed into an incongruous silence that wasn't commonplace for either of you.
He just took up sweeping again and you breathed a low sigh of relief.
"The shift is just about over, I'm gonna head out." You said, pulling the apron over your head.
"Sure, I'll close up. Enjoy your holiday." He voiced.
"Yeah, you too." You call back, not even turning back around.
Damn, that was awkward.
Following work, you practically race home to the house and the two of you begin to load the car with your bags and presents. You'll both be spending some days at your parents house and your excitement is at an all time high. Obviously, it's not the first time you've spent Christmas with them but in this regard, you'd be bringing a guest.
Ironically, you're not feeling that same pressure of when you invited him over for Thanksgiving seeing as how he was perceived. There shouldn't be anything scary about including your significant other in a holiday festivities with your parents. After all, it's not like you've just started being with him - it just goes to show how far the relationship has progressed. You wonder how it feels for him to receive an invitation to spend Christmas someplace else.
As the car moves at a reasonable speed, you watch as you pass all kinds of lights and embellishments that heavily signify the festive season. The holidays in New York were already quite the spectacle. Despite living here for most of your life, it still amazes you. It's so magical that not even the cold could put a damper on your Christmas spirit.
Surprisingly, when the purring mustang pulls into the driveway, you spot your mother already waiting outside on the porch with her housecoat wrapped tightly around her and a mug in her hands. The mug likely contained a warm beverage for her to sip on, so you can wholeheartedly understand that. What you don't understand is why she's outside in thirty degree weather like it's not cold as the arctic.
Before you even think, you're opening the car door and pacing up the porch steps. "Ma it's likely thirty degrees out why are you sitting out here?" You questioned.
"I was waiting on y'all." She states plainly like it's the most normal thing in the world.
"You could've waited in the house."
She waved a dismissive hand before turning her attention to your silent lover exiting the car with a chirpy dog falling in step right behind him. "Oh lord. I didn't know he was that big. I thought he was a small dog." She comments, placing a hand on her hips.
"Yeah well, we couldn't leave him in the house by himself." You explain.
"It's no problem, we already got a place made up for him in the den."
For Sweetface to be in attendance, an agreement had to be made with your parents based on how well he was house-trained. Which you know full well that he meets the qualifications for.
Sweetface comes up on the porch and immediately starts to sniff around your mothers leg, likely to get accustomed to her scent before his owner gives him the order to sit. To which, he does so immediately. The dog boots looked incredibly cute in his paws and you wanted to squeal each time he took an unsure step in them. His paws had to remain protected against the weather elements. Buying the shoes from PetSmart was one of the best decisions you ever made. In that same trip, you also bought him the most adorable holiday sweater. Though putting it on him was one of the more difficult tasks, even more so than the tiny boots.
Once John steps into proximity, your mother envelops the man in a hug. "We're glad to have you back over. I put some freshly washed sheets on the bed in the guestroom for you."
"Thank you. I appreciate that." He nods.
"The food is almost done but I'm baking some cookies later. I know how much you like em." She tells you as she turns to head back into the house.
Your face virtually lit up at the prospect of tasting them. It's been so long since you've had them that you'd nearly forgotten how good they were and that was a mistake in itself.
"We'll be inside in a minute, we just need to get the bags from the car." You inform her.
"Okay baby. I'll tell your daddy that y'all made it."
You can't deny that the harmless statement from your mother's mouth sends a small sliver of dread down your spine but you quickly shake the feeling away. There wasn't anything for you to dread. Everything would go well.
She keeps the door open to allow Sweetface to come into the house before shutting it.
With a simple glance at your partner, you both strode back down the steps and to the car where John opens the trunk. Soon enough you're rifling through the gifts and luggage, trying to see how much you can carry. You don't like making multiple trips but also you really just want to get everything in the house before the winds get any more disrespectful than they already were.
"I hope you're not nervous about this." You comment offhandedly, as you pick up a wrapped box and place it under your arm.
John gazed at you levelly. "Why would I be?"
"Don't tell me that I'm the only one carrying the nervousness." You joke lightly.
"What would you have nothing to feel nervous about?"
Your eyes softened in that instant. "Would you believe me if I said I wasn't doing this for me?"
"Yes, I would." He answers before bending down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. The kiss lasts all of ten seconds before it's loudly interrupted.
"Hey now! That's enough of that carrying on!" A familiar grating voice calls out.
You turn to see your father coming through the door of the house before he ultimately stands at the bottom of the porch with his arms crossed. You nearly shriveled as he scrutinized the display of affection before him. That was more of you in action that you ever wanted him to see. Naturally, he would want to put a stop to it.
Despite witnessing your lover tongue you down in view of him, your father didn't expressly order the man off the property.
That's gotta be a good sign.
While he generally regards you with gentle eyes, John does not receive the same courtesy. In fact, the man eyes John suspiciously, just before those same eyes narrow in disapproval at the sight of you two together.
"Hey daddy! I was wondering where you were." You beam.
"Mmhh." He regards you as you struggle with an arm full of boxes and a bag slung over your shoulder. Your father cast a sidelong glance at the other man.
"You know men are supposed to get the bags out for the woman, not watch her get them out while they stand there." He snappily notes.
Right away, you can sense the tension emitting in the cold evening air. They hadn't even gotten settled in the house and your father was already starting.
"Daddy, he was helping me, what are you talking about?" You reason.
"I couldn't tell." He sneers.
Simultaneously, John merely regards him with a calm, unflappable mien. You're not the least bit surprised about that. He's habitually quiet and not easily moved by anything. John is much too civil to return the hostility aimed at him from your father. You doubt that he can be intimidated in that manner if at all.
Your father's face quickly hardens as he steps down from the porch. "I heard you got sick a few weeks ago. Why you didn't come home?"
"Because…John took care of me."
The older man promptly snorts at that but dropped the subject altogether
That response was unexpected and unreasonably childish. And so unlike your father.
"Your mama told me that you went and got another job too. What you need a job for?"
His nostrils are flared, something that only happens when he's angry or annoyed.
"I just wanted one." "Since I been out of school there wasn't much for me to do and I was tired of not really doing anything. Plus a job equals money so…"
Your father casts an accusatory glance back unto John. "Did he tell you to get one?"
Off the bat, you don't like how hostile and accusatory he's being. He's way out of line. The animosity wasn't the least bit warranted in any circumstance. "No. Why would you think-" You start.
A line appears between his brows to where it looked like he was sizing your quiet partner up. "You don't need to be with a man that forces you to work." He bluntly emphasizes.
Your lover stared at your father with no shortcomings of indifference. With John being heavily skilled in the art of conflict, you're sure that your father doesn't want the fight he seems to be looking for.
In all these years, you never once took into account how much he looks like you when you're angry. His angry expression is the exact same one you've seen on yourself when you're upset. It's left you thinking that it's got to be inherited. According to him, you get your stubbornness from your mother so both of them have essentially done you dirty twice over.
"What are you - he would never force me to do anything I don't want to."
You should've known that there was no way that your taciturn lover would wind up spoiling the occasion for you. He's aware that you want this to go well. But your father on the other hand…it would seem that your father was on the course of actively sabotaging those plans.
You should've known that something like this was coming. He's tried the very same thing on at least two other guys, one of whom was just a classmate. One thing for certain, you definitely don't want him puffing his chest out at your faultless significant other.
Things were going downhill way too fast for your liking.
"Daddy, can you give us a minute? We'll be in the house soon." You implore.
John clearly was not amused by your sire's behavior and neither were you.
"I don't know what that was about but let's finish getting all this stuff in."
When you both come back into the house, your father is nowhere to be seen. The house smells entirely of cinnamon, fresh pine, and cooked meat.
The Temptations "Silent Night" is playing loudly through the entertainment speakers in the living room and it makes you smile. You see the way their Christmas Tree sits pretty in the corner and it causes more excitement than every other decoration in the house. Christmas was literally one day away and it was starting to feel real. You remember the day of anxiously waiting for the morning when you could ravage the presents under the tree. The excitement had only dimmed since you became an adult. The wonderment of it makes you feel like a child again. It brought up welcome feelings of nostalgia and memories from years past that never fail to bring a smile to your face. You might be experiencing a bit of a sensory overload.
Having gotten your fill of the house's atmosphere, you join your mother in the kitchen.
"The pies are just about done in the oven. You want to help me get started on with the cookies?" Your mother asked as she walked back into the kitchen.
Once the bags are brought upstairs and the presents are placed under the tree in the front room, John takes Sweetface out for a bathroom break while you decide to help your mother set the table for dinner. She's just finished taking the sweet smelling pies out of the oven and your stomach lurched at the aroma.
She's in the process of mixing the cookie dough and you're waiting patiently for her to discard the spoon so you clean it of any traces of batter. Each year you help her make cookies from scratch in the kitchen. People say that making the food was the fun part but for you it was always finally getting to taste them after they were done.
"Why didn't grandma come over?" You question.
"Girl, she's at late night bingo with her church friends. She's convinced that she's gonna win something big this year. You know you can't tell her nothing."
You shook your head. "Sounds about right."
"Did something happen with y'all out there. I didn't pay attention to it at first but your daddy came back in all mad, stomping upstairs."
Of course he did. He can be so dramatic sometimes.
Overprotective has always been an understatement with him unfortunately. That still didn't give him the right to act that way. You suspect that he's still in denial about you becoming an adult. You're a grown ass woman now, which means you should be well above the stage where your father ceases behavior like this. He doesn't understand that he's crossing boundaries he shouldn't. The snide comments, the looks, it's unacceptable.
"He acts like he knows who John is and already made up his mind not to like him anyway."
"Girl yo daddy don't know sugar from shit."
The parental bond with your father had always been strong but now you felt like he was putting a rift between you two.
If he truly thinks his antics will chase John away then he couldn't be more wrong. Regardless of everything, that's your man and you're gonna stick beside him. It's so out of character for him as well. Honestly, you expect better from him. A man his age should be capable of conducting himself in a manner with more class.
"John hasn't done anything to him. If he keeps acting the way he does I won't ever forgive him."
There's that little sense of feeling torn between the men but you'd rather let your moral compass guide you to make judgment calls on what's considered right.
The older woman's eyes bore deeply into yours in that second. "And that would hurt him more than anything."
"Chile you know your father and his ways. He's just emotional because he's worried that John might take you away from him."
"And that's the crazy thing…John would never do anything like that."
He's never been the type to let another man's presence sweat him, especially within the comfort of his own home.
There's no question that John has done way too much for you to be treated in such a manner.
And at least, John was respectful enough to at least remain cordial with your father.
"I told him that he can't judge a man without getting to know him first." Your mother says.
Did he really think you were going to let this happen?
Your father hasn't the slightest clue that he's engaged in a one-sided beef with a literal professional killer. He had no way of knowing that the man had in all likelihood killed many people, the exact number of which isn't even privy to you and probably won't ever be. How does he expect to bully another man without consequence?
You also know that there's a limit to the amount of disrespect a person can take. Given your knowledge of John and his nature, that district would not continue to go unchecked for long. It's a wonder that the hired gun hadn't already made precedent known. Your father just might've been extended some grace due in part to the fact that he was your father. That meant he was holding out for the sake of you entirely. Anyone else might not have received the same clemency.
Now that you think about it, this was probably how he wanted to act Thanksgiving but nothing would keep him from expressing how he felt this go around. Not even if you gave him 'the look', which definitely wasn't as effective as your mother's. Her looks foretold of hell to pay should he continue with his childish shenanigans, or as she would say, "showing his ass."
The older woman comes to sit down at the table next to you. "I know this means a lot to you but do you want me to tell you the honest to God truth?"
You looked straight into those deep chestnut eyes that were an exact replica of yours.
"Your father doesn't have to approve of the man in your life but I think it's good that you want him to. It just shows that you and him have a healthy bond. But it would be a mistake for you to hinge your life and decisions on what someone else thinks or says." She explained.
"It's just an expectation that every parent likes whoever their child brings home. He can accept John, it's just his pride and entitlement getting in the way of that."
It's unnecessary and annoying to see fathers threatening romantic suitors and behaving in unacceptable ways in the name of protecting their daughters' well being. You were never a fan of it anyway. In fact, that mentality is more harmful than helpful. Of course, no one wants their child to be taken advantage of but there are other ways to go about it. He should trust you to only date people that you deem worthy of your respect and time. John is the perfect example of positive masculinity in your eyes. What would it take to get your father to see that?
"Truth be told, I think he's mad because he knows that man is jumping up and down on you." She nonchalantly speculates.
The hot cocoa you were in the midst of swallowing subsequently goes down the wrong pipe and causes you to become engulfed in a coughing fit of epic proportions.
"Ma!"
"I don't need you to admit it, I already know."
Just hearing the woman say something like that is mortifying. "I don't ever want to have that talk with you. Ever!"
It doesn't matter how much time passes. You will never be comfortable discussing your sex life with either of your parents. Not even when your hair begins to turn gray.
"I'm gonna go talk to him." You say, pushing the chair away from the table.
"Good. Y'all need to go ahead and work something out. Y'all not raising my blood pressure tonight." She informed dismissively.
Sometimes you just have to take the initiative and get somebody together, you think as you hike up the stairs determinedly.
When you reach the half closed door to your parents room, you hesitate for a moment before raising a hand to knock. His voice beckons you inside thereafter. You found him standing in front of the dresser containing the mirror. His face lights up with a smile when he sees you.
"You alright baby girl?" It's a name he's used for you since you were a little girl and your heart warms upon hearing it.
"No. I'm not." You fiercely question. "Why are you treating John like that?"
His back hastily straightened and he rolled his eyes as if he didn't want to entertain the topic. "I was calling it like I saw it."
"Daddy." You hiss. "No you weren't! You were purposely being rude and then you flat out accused him of something out of nowhere."
"He's a man, if he can't handle another man coming at him then he ain't got no business being with you." He firmly asserted.
You followed right behind him, nearly vibrating with how appalled you were at his reasoning. At the fact that he actually believed that his behavior was justified. He's in his act ignorant bag tonight for some reason and you're not feeling it one bit.
The man shook his head. "Why you even bring him here?"
"It's not like I just sprung this on you, you been knew about this well in advance daddy."
"Dammit you don't ever come around anymore. What am I supposed to think?"
"I don't know but your first thought is that he's keeping me away from y'all?"
"I don't know him!" He shouts.
"Okay, that's what I'm trying to get you to understand! Part of me doing this whole thing is so you and mama can become acquainted with him better."
For the two of you to stand there and yell at each other is highly uncharacteristic.
"But that's on me, I accept responsibility for that. I apologize for not bringing him around more."
"Well why didn't you?"
"Daddy it's complicated." You mumbled in an exasperated voice.
"Tell me…tell me one thing bad about him that you know of." You irately demanded.
A thick silence follows your words.
As you expected, he proved that his dislike is completely rooted in fear and mistrust and it all boiled down to him and his unfounded assumptions at the end of the day.
On one hand, you take full responsibility for not allowing the men to meet earlier so there wouldn't be any complications. Given their individual personalities, you don't know if they can come to a mutual understanding. While John is reticent and guarded, your father is sociable and forthcoming. The differences in personality could've been mended beforehand.
Truthfully, you don't think he's aware of how his words and behavior impact you.
"Think about all the things you've been saying! They don't even sound like you. When have you ever had to worry about another man taking your place in my heart?" You come up to place a hand on his cheek. "No matter what man comes into my life I'll always be your little princess. Nothing is ever going to change that."
In that moment, you took note of the glossiness of his own eyes. An indication that you were not the only one emotionally affected in the situation.
"All the things that man has done for me - not to mention all the things I probably don't even know about because he's selfless enough to never feel the need to inform me about them. You can't even begin to imagine the amount of gratitude I have for him."
All you wanted was for him to be decent, it is the night before Christmas after all.
"I mean he's literally saved my life more than a few times. I owe him just that much. That man that you so carelessly judged without provocation doesn't have a proper family to speak of. If we hadn't met, I'm positive he'd be spending his Christmas alone." Unwillingly, your voice broke because you were just that close to tears.
He was stunned at your choice of words, his eyes widened to epic proportions.
"He's never had a family before and I wanted him to know what it's like to be a part of one."
Something that could be categorized as sadness crossed his features. He lowered his head in contemplation and you saw a hint of guilt among his features.
You took in a long breath. "Aren't you the one that taught me about generosity? About providing to those that aren't as fortunate as you?"
The recognition in his face finally shone through for you to see.
"If you really cared about me you'd try and give him a chance - get to know him first, that's all I'm asking. It's Christmas, don't let this be the first one that I don't enjoy. So please…" You pleaded.
The dinner of choice for the holiday was a glorious Pot Roast with cornbread on the side. It's an interesting meal to consume on Christmas Eve and you're not mad at it, especially since you know it's going to bless your soul. You can't remember the last time you had a roast but you do remember how good your mother cooks hers. You can't help but observe how juicy and and watering it looks just sitting on your plate.
Now you're aware that cooking a roast isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination and can be required the whole night to be cooked effectively.
The beefy aroma quietly engulfed your senses. You can tell of its fullness just by the smell. You fork the glazed meat into your mouth and nearly melt at the taste. The added cornbread provides your taste buds just as much satisfaction. It's sweeter than you expect. Recently, you've been snacking and eating like crazy trying to quell that ravenous hunger that had seemingly come from nowhere. Hopefully, the fullness from a home cooked meal would keep you full you thought as you greedily swept up the vegetables on your plate as well.
For a good while, silence engulfed the space and you felt somewhat comforted by it. There's not much to be heard except for the clink of utensils against the glass plates and the occasional slurp from someone taking a sip of their drink.
Admittedly, the only tension seems to be between you and your disgruntled father, who'd come downstairs tight-lipped and less hostile than before. Shockingly, you and him haven't even made further contact since you had that 'little talk'. Instead he ate quietly, something you never knew he was capable of.
That was, until your mother felt compelled to break that silence. Not that it's off brand for her, as a matter of fact, there's never any shame in her game when it came to doing what she wanted.
"So how did you two meet again?" She curiously inquired as she regarded you and John with a keen stare.
After years of having her as a mother, you're all too familiar with her habit of asking a lot of questions. While it's not a crime to want to know everything, in this case, it's not really warranted. Sometimes a line of questioning can be borderline obtrusive. Moreover, the woman is just about the nosiest person you know and you know quite a number of nosy people. Still, you can't resist furrowing your brows at the question. Not because she asked but because your mind was working overtime on how to answer it without giving away too much detail.
"What? This is the first man you've ever brought to the house. I wanna know more about him." She shrugged.
You swallowed the last of the food in your mouth before you offered her a genuine response.
"Uh…we met when I was working at the bar."
"Well don't be vague, keep going." She pressed further.
Inwardly you rolled your eyes. "Basically, he came in one night and stopped a guy from harassing me."
You wouldn't elaborate on how exactly he went about stopping the man but you think they'll understand nonetheless.
"Oh! That's sweet." she gushes.
While it could be seen as a chivalrous act on John's part, you do acknowledge that he might've been there solely to take out the shady group of men. He just managed to save you in the midst of carrying out the objective. You never felt the need to ask so you actually know the truth.
Although chivalry wasn't the only thing about John that ensnared you, you can't explain to them that the polite, cultured man that sits before them has literally put his whole mouth over your asshole and that's why you could never love another man the way you love him. You doubt that bit of information would go over smoothly with them.
The very memory of him doing that to you caused a deep flush to invade your face as a result. There's no excuse for thinking dirty thoughts while at the dinner table with your parents. You should really be ashamed of yourself but you're not.
"So John, can I ask what you do for a living?" Your mother continues.
And there it is…the question you never wanted your folks to ask. It's also a stark reminder of not just who you'd brought into their house but what. According to John's past words, 'citizens' aren't at all privy to the world hitman like him operated in on a daily basis. You have serious doubts it would go well with him or them if you told your parents about his true source of income and way of living.
"He's a businessman ma." You proclaimed.
The explanation wasn't entirely a lie so you don't feel that bad about it. These days he'd rather stay home than go on another extended mission and you don't know if you played a part in that shift.
"Oh that's nice. What kind of business?" She pry's.
"Baby let him answer for himself."
John wipes at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "I work for a privately funded organization that sometimes requires me to travel. Legally, I'm not required to go into much detail about how it operates."
Oh.
He's smooth…slick even. Slicker than baby oil.
For a person who hates lies, he might even be better at lying on the spot than you. To be frank, it shouldn't be this easy to lie to them.
"Oh wow. What places have you gotten to travel to so far if you don't mind me asking?"
"A bit of everywhere." He courteously replied.
While you'd always found his perpetual politeness enduring, apparently your mother did too.
You know firsthand that although it may seem like he's spaced out but he's actually taking note of everything around in the vicinity.
"And are the trips always company funded?"
You know from eavesdropping on a conversation with one of his clients that he gets paid handsomely for any work he does. Even after all this time, you still don't know the inside details. He keeps things eerily vague in those aspects.
For all you know, the man could be set for life and never have to take another job again. You get that feeling that he doesn't exactly like what he does for a living. If his initial refusal to take a job specifically offered to him was of any indication.
Is it even possible for him to simply leave a life like that behind like it was nothing?
"Not always. It varies from time to time."
Although your father wasn't contributing much to the conversation, you know him well enough to know that his attention is rapt. He might not look like it but he's absorbing every word. The topic of conversation must be so rousing that he's found himself intrigued by it. His silence is probably just him reflecting on how much of an ass he was acting a short while ago.
"Baby you should look into trying to work with him, secure you a good company position." She suggests.
You considered her words with a grain of salt. You work as a contract killer? The very concept is laughable. John's occupation is nothing like the regular nine to five. You're overly positive that you don't even meet the bare minimum requirements to work in an organized crime operation. You didn't know the first thing that went into being a hired gun. On top of everything else, you didn't know if you were capable of taking the life of another person.
"I don't think I have the necessary skill set for all that ma." "And since I started working at the store, I really don't want to work anywhere else." You reason.
"I should've known you were a special kind of man if you can put up with my child for this long."
"It's never been a problem for me."
"Is that so? I know she can be a handful with all that attitude but she means well."
"What are you talking about? My attitude is not bad!"
"Girl I spent almost twenty-four hours in labor with you because you didn't want to come out. Believe me when I say, you're stubborn as all hell."
She's told you about the experience of your birth a million and one times by now and she won't ever leave out that one glaring fact. Still, it doesn't stop you from being the slightest bit defensive. Perhaps it simply wasn't time for you to come out - have they ever considered that possibility? As a matter of fact, you still don't consider it an accurate representation of your stubbornness.
"How can you complain if you're the one who made me the way I am." You snorted.
"You didn't get that mess from me."
"Well, it's a fifty-fifty chance between you and daddy."
"I'm surprised John can handle all that. Heaven knows "
"Nobody needs to be able to handle me alright?"
"Please. He ain't all that." You asserted.
At that exact moment, a firm hand made immediate contact with your crotch and the unexpected action caused you to sit up straighter in your chair. He applied heavy pressure to the pelvic bone there and you had to swallow down the yelp that almost made its way past your lips. Any utterance from you would surely allude to what was happening under the table and you didn't want that.
Shockingly, John continues to eat meticulously like he isn't gripping your cunt with his other hand under the table. It was practically impossible for you to ignore it and it had you gripping your fork tighter with your fingers. It didn't exactly hurt but it did give you pause. As luck would have it, your parents had turned their attention back to their plates of food in that instant, so they would not have caught the way you jolted in your chair.
In your ranting you hadn't taken into account that you were taking out the side of your neck about a man that doesn't really tolerate that kind of conduct from you. It was certainly the most jarring 'Don't play with me' display you've ever seen from a man. You don't think you wanna continue to try him any further. As noted before, John Wick wasn't really a man that liked to be teased by you or anyone from that matter.
You simply turn your attention back to your plate without another word.
"So John…your car. Is it really a sixty-nine?" Your father suddenly questioned.
Both you and your mother froze, all the eating stopped.
Nearly everyone besides your lover appeared shocked at the question. Not just at the question itself but rather the person asking said question. Which was none other than your own father. You think he at least took your words to heart but you know it probably killed him to ask. At that moment, you and your mother briefly locked eyes over the table before they flicked back to the men.
The atmosphere was swirling with something but you have no clue what that might be.
The other man stiffly inclines his. "It is."
The other man's eyes lit up with enthusiasm then he hummed with appreciation. "I ain't never seen a sixty-nine Mach One in person. Hell, they're damn near one of the most exclusive cars ever made. How did you manage to get your hands on one?"
"Luck I guess." He curtly replied.
You and your mother seemed to watch the exchange with baited breath while pretending to focus on the rapidly depleting food. To say you were shocked was a bit of a euphemism and at the center of that was your father. Honestly, you don't what you expected from him but this was not it. You're just happy that he chose to stop being an ass and make an honest effort to become acquainted with John per your wishes.
Your mother and you did not join in, as you both were content to let the men carry on conversion without interruption. It was needed, given that you were still determined that your lover fit in seamlessly and felt comfortable enough to at least talk.
A smile returned to your lips.
Once dinner was finished, you and your mother had taken to cleaning the dishes while the men resumed their stimulating discussion in the living room. You nibbled your lip anxiously as you watched and listened to them from afar.
Once your father got started talking about cars, it's like he was never going to stop. Luckily, John possessed an impressive knowledge of vehicles to maintain a smooth, light-hearted exchange with the other man. You're surprised that it lasted as long as it did. At one point, the pair even ventured back outside to discuss the mechanics and model of John's own mustang. The men have found their common ground and that's all you could've asked for. You suppose family bonding is important no matter how that bonding takes place.
Following that, the man migrated to the living room where the television is broadcasting tv specials and a host of holiday films. It wasn't that surprising seeing as Christmas marathons usually run the whole month. This month alone, you've probably watched the Grinch six times already. When the food is put away and the kitchen is clean, you and your mother soon join them. As you sit close beside him, you can't help but think that it must be interesting for him to watch 'This Christmas' and 'Friday After Next' since you know he hasn't seen them before. Both movies are considered holiday staples in most Black households and yours is no different.
You're sick of seeing the conventional films that don't really have that much substance to them aside from the fact that they take place on Christmas. It's crazy that almost every major Christmas movie is usually based in New York.
"You drink?" Your father asks John.
"I do."
"And the drink of choice?"
"Bourbon."
"Hmm, don't think we have any of that. You ever heard of Hennessy?" He says as he rambles through the curio cabinet where he keeps all his liquor.
It's then where you wonder if you should intervene. While it's refreshing that the men are bonding, you don't want your dad getting John intoxicated. Your old man is already a seasoned drinker who can down liquor like its water. And while there's no question that the reserved hitman can manage his alcoholic intake on his own, you still express a healthy amount of anxiety at the thought. Although, you might just be worrying for nothing.
Still, you just can't get over how amusing it is to watch him and your father interact. The dynamic between the two men was just so contrary.
Sometime passes before you figure that God might be working in your favor tonight. After downing a ridiculous amount of liquor in a short time, your father falls right asleep in his favored arm chair. You're grateful for that since he was talking adamantly about teaching your lover how to play spades. Your mother grumbles about not helping him upstairs into bed but you know she will. They tended to turn in much earlier anyway.
As you're headed for the stairs something clicks in your mind to ask. "Aren't we supposed to open up one present for tonight?"
"Girl y'all grown. We not opening no presents on Christmas eve, that's for little kids. Go to bed." Your mother waves you away and you pout upon hearing it, stomping up the stairs.
Sweetface was more interested in exploring to pay attention to what the humans have going on around them. You suppose he'll crawl into his dog bed sooner or later.
As an unmarried couple staying in a black home, you and John are given separate bedrooms to sleep in. You in your old room and John in the guest room across the hall.
Sure you spent Christmas a little different this year but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was certainly one for the books. Just wait til you tell Jasmine and Alexis about this.
Sure you wanted your parents to like him but hold shit they've just about done a full one-eighty in a single night, especially your dad. Even if your mother never had a quarrel with John, it's still astonishing to see just how easily he won them over. Honestly, it's better than you could've ever imagined.
Just as you pick our bonnet up from the nightstand, there's a sound knock at the door. You didn't know who exactly you expected to see but John standing there in a shirt and his pajama bottoms definitely wasn't it.
"You know you're not supposed to be on my side of the hall right?"
"My parents are right down the hall. If they caught you in here, they're gonna assume and there will be hell to pay."
"That unpleasant stuff with my dad earlier…I hope you know he didn't mean it." You clarified.
In the back of your mind, you knew that your father's words probably had little to no effect on him. In fact he never looked worried a single time tonight. But you still felt weirdly compelled to let him know.
"I know. He is a father who clings to his child. It's understandable."
"No he shouldn't have acted that way in the first place. It's not okay. I meant to tell you earlier that I pulled him aside and talked with him about it. But guess it's all water under the bridge since you and him have become so…" You cracked your brain to find the right word to use. "...amiable."
He curiously inspects your old bedroom and its contents, looking at pictures of you and your friends during those embarrassing middle school years.
"My mom already kinda liked you and it seems like you've won my dad over with a simple conversation about cars."
He's quite literally done the impossible and you have to wonder…is there anything he can't do at this point?
"You know when I said I wanted my parents to like you, I didn't mean to be so likable that they're willing to write me out of their will and have you take my place."
The pronounced line of his eyebrow arched. "My apologies. I wasn't made aware of how much likability to emanate."
Nonetheless, his actions still had the desired result so you can't complain.
"Every time I ask you for something…you don't ask questions you just go above and beyond to make it happen. Truth is…I don't even know if it's a good or bad thing - just that it's so refreshing."
At this point, you're convinced that if you asked for the moon, John would reach out into the sky and grab it for you.
"I know all of this is still new to you but you still gave it a chance. "And I know I've said this before but I feel like I have to say it again. Thank you so much for this."
Now on another note…
"A businessman?" He noted, keeping his face deceptively composed throughout.
'Yeah about that. Technically, that was the best, most relatable explanation I could come up with. It worked didn't it?"
"It did. I never knew you were such a skilled liar." He teased, impassively.
He was probably the only person you know that can maintain the most serious face while purposely teasing someone else. "You can't exactly say that, not when you lie better than me. And as a matter of fact, I wanna talk about what was at the table." You insisted.
For the first time, he turned around to look at you and you saw his eyes dancing with amusement. He didn't have to ask you what you meant.
"You know what that was."
"You talk too much."
You crossed your arms defiantly, meeting his solemn gaze head on. "And you don't talk enough."
"Is that so? Well, I'm not 'all that' remember?" He said as he slanted his eyes darkly at you.
The look took you by surprise.
"C'mon, I didn't mean it like that." You explained as you tried not to fidget on the spot. A nervous flush creeping up your neck.
In that moment, he virtually rounded on you. "What did you mean?"
"Um…I meant.." You stammered tensely whilst his brows came down even harder.
He comes to tower over you, the intense gaze growing more heated by the second. "I said, what did you mean?"
Your arms drop from their place and you stiffen as he leans down until his face is literally inches from yours. Because of the closeness, you can feel the body heat wafting from his body.
For a long moment, the two of you gazed at one another intensely and you noticed how the muscles of his jaw appeared clenched. The predatory expression marring his features was one you easily recognized. The expression itself was a clear indicator that your lover was liable to inflict his lascivious desire unto you. The longer he stared down at you with the heavy lidded gaze and your stomach warmed in anticipation.
In no time, he fused his mouth to yours with a sensuous sweep of his tongue. You promptly wrapped your arms around his neck. The natural masculine scent of him mixed with sandalwood bombarded your senses. It makes your heart beat firmly against your ribcage.
Without delay, you feel his hands start traversing the length of your frame. Groping the curve of your backside and melding the soft globes there. Without warning, one of his hands slipped below the waistband of your shorts, bypassing your panties to brush along the slippery folds of your know that he can feel the wetness already gathered there and your mind clouded over with a euphoric haze.
One of your hands grip his shirt until that hand shifts touch his firm abdomen and it only takes a few seconds before you slide it down into his pants. You're not surprised to find him already rigid and hot to the touch. He played skillfully along your slit as your hand commenced an even rhythm of sliding up and down on the erect flesh of his dick. In the midst of the reciprocal masturbation, your tongues tangled messily together. This lasts for about two minutes until out of the blue, a thought makes itself known.
Through all of this, you remember to take into account that your parent's room is right down the hall. With the stark realization, you're quick to pull away, staring up at him with wide eyes.
"Wait! We can't. We can't do anything." You start to remind and immediately get a finger pressed against your lips.
Dark eyes bore into yours and more heat blazed between your legs. His countenance spoke volumes - he expected you to do whatever he bid without question.
Unhesitatingly, you nodded your understanding.
His actions are bold, daring and yet somehow still reminiscent of his normal behavior. But behind closed doors, the man was an unbelievable sexual deviant. The thrill of it all made it all that more exciting.
He lifted your shirt above your head and your pants hit the floor right after. It never took him long to have you undressed. The two of you weren't supposed to go any further - somehow both your hands end up in each other's underwear. Something had taken hold of you both, something that closely resembled raw passion. All of your inhibition and concern went out the window with desire swiftly replacing it.
The assassin leads you over to the bed and gently lays you down. Afterwards, he reaches over and pulls the lap switch, casting the room into semi darkness.
In the darkness, you feel his fingertips brushing lightly over your bare stomach. He navigated around your breasts cautiously aware of how sensitive they'd been lately. It was evident that he wouldn't be showing them too much attention tonight.
Your nipples practically ache from the lack of attention and both your hands came up to cup them softly.
It doesn't take him long to splay your thighs open and go straight to work.
You'd done good at keeping it together until his fingers made contact with your bare sex. He started by gathering all the moisture from your leaking opening and slathering them over the lips of your vagina. You released a delighted sigh at his ministrations. He swept over the swollen bud of your clitoris and your toes curled painfully.
Adept fingers rubbed circles over your sensitive clit. The movement of his fingers was slow and sensuous. He gently brushed your swollen labia and you struggled not to squirm on the bed. All at once, John's fingers dipped into the saturated slit and it doesn't take long before a finger slides inside your wanting cunt. Your inner muscles immediately began to clench around the appendages.
All you wanted now was for him to make you cum. The way in which he does it was unimportant.
You're just about ready to go over the edge when his hand completely disappears. You whine in discomfort at not being able to finish but you don't have any time to truly linger on the feeling.
The man gently grasps you by the hips and shifts your entire body until you're laying flat on your stomach on the bed with his firm, lithe form coming to hover over you. The position was known to you as that of a collapsed doggy style position with his hard chest pressed intimately against your back. It was certainly a welcome surprise for you considering the usual positions he favors. Rarely does he choose to experiment.
He brushes aside your mess of braids. Before he came in, you were in the process of typing them up and putting on your bonnet. Now it seemed like that endeavor would've been pointless.
Is he really going to do this? Is he really going to fuck you in your parents house? It would seem so. You don't have time to question whether what you're about to do is wrong or not. In your years of sexual experience, you could never dream of doing such a thing and in your parents house no less. This was honestly next level. What the two of you were about to do could definitely be defined as improper but you can't find it in yourself to care.
Could it be? Was him choosing to fuck you his own form of personal retaliation against your father for his earlier behavior? John has shown that he can be very vindictive when he feels he was slighted. Though it could be a complete misunderstanding on your part but you're not so sure. As John really wasn't one to reveal his inner thoughts.
For a brief second, you think he was considering entering the puckered flower concealed between both cheeks. The thought is more than concerning knowing if he chooses to go that route, you'd be screaming like a banshee for dear life with consideration for where the hell you are. He slid his hardened length right into your soaking pussy from behind. The intrusion was even more euphoric than you imagine. He mounts you without difficulty. Your body stays pinned against the bed by his weight and soon his chest makes contact with your back until there isn't a gap between your bodies anymore. The current position over you made him immovable and you liken it to him spooning you.
He moves leisurely and the feeling was delicious. He hits your spot much more easily than he would in any other position. A position like this inspires submission. The back and forth motion had you questioning your sanity. This is more than just you being fucked from behind - you're literally drowning in the throes of sexual surrender. Straight away, he intentionally focuses on that delicate spot behind your belly button and it induces excruciating ecstasy. Your mouth promptly fell open against your will and you squeezed your eyes shut tightly.
As of now, you don't have to focus on keeping yourself up or your arms giving out. You're not even in any position to run from the pleasurable assault. Just as your mother implied earlier, John was quite literally and figuratively jumping up and down on you. You're grateful that you don't have one of those old squeaky beds because if that were the case, it would be making way more noise than you.
The low baritone and huskiness of his voice was unmistakable as his breath caressed the shell of your ear. "No noise."
The softly spoken command was reasonable. You know just how loud you're capable of getting whenever you and John get active. There was only one problem…
"I can try but…I don't think…"
The next thing you registered was a hand moving along your jaw to cover your mouth and prevent another sound from making it out and alerting your parents. If they found out you were getting railed in the next room over then you would probably die on the spot. Any progress John made with him would go out the window. Your father would try to kill him with his bare hands…
Titling his head at an angle, John murmurs darkly into your ear. "Tell me something…do you love me?"
"Mmhhh…" You mumble shakily against his palm.
"I can't hear you…talk louder." He drawled.
"Mmmhhhh!"
He knew you couldn't actually convey any words to say what he wanted to hear, he only wanted to taunt you.
He's carefully controlled about what angles he hammers, touching places in you he'd never touched before. He applied just the right amount of force and pressure - the resulting friction morbidly delicious. Only this time there's not any loud smacking of his hips against your ass. Nevertheless, you can vaguely hear how wet you are even in this position.
"Show me." He cooed.
How? You desperately wanted to voice. How did he want you to show him? You don't even think you know how. He doesn't need to see your face to know the effect his having while he's fucking the shit out of you. He had your mind completely gone at that point and it was hard to keep it together when you're getting fucked like this.
Your tummy did little flips as a result of your core quivering violently. Your face fell into the pillows with a pleasure whine, you didn't find the strength to hold it up any longer. You keep both palms pressed to the bed, unable to do much with them but grip the sheets for dear life. Honestly it felt like it was too much but you didn't want it to end.
Without warning, you unraveled while he continuously dropped his weight down unto you. His hand left your mouth and you heaved in labored breaths and he placed tender kisses along your neck along the expanse of your neck. Even after you'd cum he didn't stop and you accidently let out a loud moan.
"Shhhh."
"Trying…I…can't." You rasped.
"Yes you can." He assures before he buries his face in the crook of your neck and you feel the imprint of teeth.
He doesn't bite you hard enough to cause you any pain however, in fact, it has quite the opposite effect. The feeling makes you dangerously lightheaded.
He wasn't just thrusting shallowly into your sweet spot, but more accurately, his tip was pressing into that spot and rubbing against it. He never eased off of it enough for his movements to be classified as actual thrusts. It was intense - primal. You desperately clawed the pillow cradling your head, trying to keep a firm grip on your composure. Everything below your waist was trembling. The pleasure is paralyzing.
A thin sheen of sweat began to coat your body.
When you let out a distressed wail and his hand curled around your neck and exerted the faintest amount of pressure.
Three things suddenly came glaringly evident, the first one being his turning off the lights, the second being him implementing a no noise command, and the third being his meticulous control of your breathing by his hand at your throat. In a way, the man is enacting his own alternative forms of sensory deprivation on you. He's literally depriving you of seeing, speaking, and breathing at various points. All of which were conscientiously preventing you from alerting your parents. It's an ingenious strategy on his part even if it was at your own expense.
And when you think the feeling can't get any more debilitating, John proves it to you that he's not the one to play with. His stroke game is unmatched as far as you're concerned. His fucking you into literal dizziness. The man's hips worked diligently against your backside while he kissed along your neck, occasionally biting at your shoulders while he squeezed at your neck some more. The tight clutch of your pussy weeps in satisfaction.
You're starting to think you're straining your own vocal cords just by trying to stay quiet. It doesn't even sound like moans coming from you anymore, it sounded like you were vocalizing pain. From an outside perspective, it probably sounded like he was hurting you but that wasn't the case at all. In fact, it was entirely the opposite.
He sucks at your swollen bottom lips tenderly.
You're not given a single second to recover from the overwhelming climax, the hitman just keeps going. The sensation was more powerful than you expected and it hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision went white.
The pace remains undisturbed in the midst of your core spasms. You gasped, your front half bowing up slightly from the bed. He does a fine job of reigning in your gasping cries with his hand. He drills your guts, diving deep into your flexing tunnel while moisture bathes his dick in waves.
When the need for air became too great to ignore, you turned your head to one side on the pillow. Gusts of air entered and left your lungs in measured bursts.
As of now, he's got your soul in the palm of his hands and you're at his absolute mercy. There's nothing he could ask of you that you won't do.
As John languidly moves his pelvis, your eyes roll upwards. There's something exhilarating about the entire experience. You can't even think - can't even function properly. Your head is completely empty of all thoughts except for him. Suddenly, it didn't matter that you were fading in and out of consciousness.
He's not thrusting, he's grinding into your snug orifice, rutting against your ass. In the haze, you can hear John's faint pants against your ear. Obviously, you weren't the only one trapped between tortuous rapture. Your entire body starts shaking like the flimsiest leaf.
Your pussy seizes around him and it sets off a chain reaction in your entire body. Bright spots exploded behind your closed eyelids. You didn't think you could take it any longer. You're receiving a massive overload of sensation from the overstimulation.
The orgasm gets dragged out in the most blissful fashion. You feel him pulsing before a warm spurt spills itself inside of you a moment later. You lay dazed and spent on the sheets as he essentially empties his entire sack into you. The sensation was the last thing you registered before you drifted off.
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