Santa (is a) Bear: A Gay Christmas Story (MM)
By: Sara Pierce | Other books by Sara Pierce
Published By: Fawkesfire
Published: Dec 03, 2011
ISBN # SRPRCX000012
Published By: Fawkesfire
Published: Dec 03, 2011
ISBN # SRPRCX000012
Word Count: 2,800
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Microsoft Reader, Mobipocket (.mobi), Epub
Santa (is a) Bear: A Gay Christmas Story (MM) by Sara Pierce - Erotica>ContemporaryWhen Justin's boyfriend breaks up with him on Christmas Eve, the young man thinks it's going to be the worst Christmas ever. Fortunately for Justin however, he's been a very good boy all year and who shows up but merry old Saint Nick, determined to bring the young man some holiday cheer. Justin is more than happy for the company and when he realizes jolly old Santa wouldn't mind a little holiday nookie, together they deck the balls as far up the chimney as they can!
Reader Rating: 0.0 Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating: Not rated
Excerpt:Justin stared at his phone, frozen in place by the text message he'd just received.
[We need to see other people. Call me after the holidays.]
It had been sent by Monty, his boyfriend of six months, only moments before. They had agreed to spend the evening together since Justin's family was so far away instead of going to their friend Mike's party. Except, a few minutes ago Mike had texted wondering where Justin was since his older boyfriend had shown up, then the terse message from Monty who was no doubt entwined with some drunk man even as he texted.
Damn, Justin thought, collapsing onto the couch miserably, I sure know how to pick them. He'd been sure Monty would be different; for one, he was older than most of Justin's previous boyfriends. He'd always been attracted to older Bears - gay men characterized by bulkier physiques, whether fat or muscle - but apparently despite his age, Monty's maturity level was on par with any of the younger men Justin had ever dated. All I attract are losers, he thought, dejected, as he looked around the apartment.
Christmas had always been his favorite holiday and time of year. His apartment was decorated with the best of everything he could afford, but it all rang so hollow now. He picked up a candle from the coffee table in front of him, the smell of peppermint wafting to his nose. This year was one of the few times in his life he'd been away from his family for the holidays - they were in Cleveland while he was stuck in Boston. He'd hoped to spend the evening with Monty, having a nice dinner and staying in from the bitter storm that raged outside. The power had gone out only an hour before so the house was lit with candles in preparation for a romantic evening. Instead, he was now alone in the small apartment, miles away from his family and desperately missing his grandmother's home-made...
Something clattered down the chimney.
Justin cocked his head to the side and peered into the small alcove. The flue in the small chimney had been stuck closed since he'd move into the apartment, rendering the fireplace useless unless he wanted smoke everywhere, so nothing should have been able to come down. Sure enough however a hint of old ash poured through the screen across the opening, swirling in the faint glow of candles. Great, Justin thought, annoyed, now I have squirrels in my... Then he leaped to his feet as red-and-white trails of light spilled out from the previously dark opening, meandering up and gathering together quickly to form a shape. For a moment there was only a large ball of light as tall as a man, then a man in a red suit stepped out and the energy dissipated in a shower of glitter.
Justin stared open mouthed at the new figure in his house. I'm totally hallucinating, he realized, resisting the urge to laugh. He could get his body to work except his eyes, who could only stare at the red robed figure standing in front of his fireplace. Yup, I've gone nutter.
"No, you haven't gone crazy, Justin." The figure-that-looked-like-Santa-but-couldn't-be shook his head. "I figured you of all people could use a little holiday cheer and I was in the neighborhood.
His voice was a soothing deep timbre, his eyes kind, but Justin wasn't going to be fooled that easy. This has to be a dream, no way do I have Santa Claus standing in my living room. He reached over and pinched his arm, certain he was dreaming, then stared in consternation at the painful patch. Ow? Looking from the Santa to his red arm then back, Justin edged his way sideways then back behind the couch.
"Please don’t be afraid." The older man looked disappointed. "I apologize if I startled you, I don't show myself to many people and the etiquette eludes me sometimes."
Justin stopped, uncertain. "Who are you?" he asked needlessly. Santa didn't answer, but a tiny grin lit his face beneath the salt-and-pepper close-trimmed beard. Still unable to make himself believe the real Saint Nick was beneath his roof, Justin just stared at the older man who seemed content to wait him out.
Finally, when it became apparent they were at an impasse, Justin asked another question. "Why are you here then? Why me?"
"As I said, I felt your sadness and was in the area." Santa hitched a shoulder, indicating his pack. "Mind if I set this down?"
Shaking his head that a hallucination would ask permission, Justin nodded and the older man hitched the large sack carefully onto the rug beneath his feet. "Looks heavy," Justin murmured, not realizing he'd said it aloud until Santa laughed.
"Hauling this around is definitely a workout." Santa peered at Justin. "I had a few things in mind for you but is there anything special I could get you this year?"
Better taste in men? Justin swallowed down the bitter gall at the back of his throat, determined not to bring up that pain, and shook his head.
"Perhaps this might help a bit." Santa reached into the large bag next to him, but instead of a wrapped gift he pulled out a Tupperware container. "Merry Christmas, Justin."
After a brief hesitation, Justin stepped around the couch carefully and took the container. "What is it?" he asked, but Santa only laughed and shook his head, motioning with his hands for the younger man to open it. Still not sure what to make of the night's events, Justin cracked open one corner of the plastic lid and peered inside. The most amazing and familiar aroma washed over him, and unable to believe his senses Justin ripped off the lid and stared at the contents. "Is this...?"
"A slice of your grandmother's homemade strawberry rhubarb pie." Justin looked up to see the holiday icon regarding him with kind eyes. "Still warm too, I nicked it right after it was taken from the oven." He chortled. "They'll be wondering who got past your eagle-eyed grandmother the rest of the season."
It was on the tip of Justin’s tongue to joke about Santa of all people stealing, but his breath hitched in his throat. Justin collapsed back onto the couch as a tear trailed down his face. "Thank you so much," he said instead, the words not enough to show his appreciation for the gesture. Justin's eyes travelled down Santa's red clothes, then his eyebrows shot up. "Why Santa," he exclaimed, pointing to a tell-tale bulge in the holiday saint's pants, "are you horny?"