very nice, very adult agreement about letting him live at home.
“I’ve got enough saved to move out,” Justin said, “but I like knowing someone will worry about me when I come home. Does that make me immature?”
“No,” Hank said. “That makes you human.”
Justin dragged him kicking and screaming into a woman’s bath shop, only to spray Hank with all of the scents in their men’s line, to see which one would smell best.
“Justin,” Hank whined. “I’ve got Earth on my left wrist, Sky on my right wrist, and Ocean on my chest,” because Justin had missed, “what are you putting on me now?”
“Oak,” Justin said absently, spraying Hank’s neck and hitting his mark this time. “Now shut up. I’m trying to smell.” He closed his eyes and stood on tip-toes, and inhaled, his nose very close to Hank’s neck. “Mm…” he said dreamily. “ That’s your smell.”
Hank blushed and bumbled backwards, almost running over the woman behind him, who did not look amused. “Do you have a smell?” he asked, flustered, and Justin smiled wickedly.
“I’m all about Sky, baby, cause that’s where Oak is reaching for.”
Hank’s lips quirked sideways. “Unless they’re burying their roots in Earth’s firmament,” he said, and Justin set the tester down and burst into giggles.
“Let’s get out of here, big guy, before you make any more puns and hurt yourself.”
And off they went. They bought some extra ornaments and garlands in their next stop, and then went and got Josie from Mrs. Watson’s, who was so excited she reminded Hank of Justin.
“Oh boy! Oh boy! Is Justin gonna decorate with us? Oh is he, Uncle Hank?”
After a short dinner, they jumped into the fray, letting Josie hang most of the ornaments below waist level. She ran to one or the other of them before each ornament, so they could examine it and tell her it was perfect, and then she placed it very carefully on the tree. Hank tended to prefer the Hallmark ornaments—his childhood trees had been filled with hand-me-downs and homemade—but this year, he was particularly proud to put a candy cane made of beads front and center. Josie had made it in daycare.
Justin held her up so she could put the star on the top and then string tinsel garlands all around the living room, and Hank put a nail in the front door to hang the new wreath on. When he was done with that, he disappeared into the kitchen to make cocoa and came back, setting it on the coasters on the coffee table, and looking around.
“It’s wonderful,” he pronounced, and Josie ran to give him a completely unsolicited, delighted hug.
And then to ask him if she could watch Shrek again after her bath, which he’d forgotten about.
But finally she was bathed and full of hot chocolate and her teeth were brushed, and Hank had read her one story and Justin had sung her a Christmas song in his sweet tenor, and she was fast, fast asleep.
Hank came out of her bedroom to find Justin in the kitchen, cleaning up.
And fell very much in love. Again.
He moved behind that compact, vital body, placed his hands on Justin’s hips and started to kiss the back of his neck. Justin gasped and put the pot he was washing down in the sink, and simply leaned back into Hank’s arms and allowed him to….
To kiss him, his neck, his back, his ears, his jaw, his shoulders....
To touch him, his chest, his face, his stomach, his arms, his throat….
To feel him, pressed up against Hank’s front, a willing, warm human being who was moaning breathlessly and grinding back against Hank as he breathed, touched, and pillaged the young man who had come bouncing into his life and who showed no inclination of leaving.
“You have to promise me something,” Hank whispered, and Justin moaned in return. “You have to promise me that no matter how this goes, you’ll smile at me tomorrow morning, okay? I’m starting to depend on that smile. I need to see it when we leave the house.”
“Deal.”
Hank
“I’ve got enough saved to move out,” Justin said, “but I like knowing someone will worry about me when I come home. Does that make me immature?”
“No,” Hank said. “That makes you human.”
Justin dragged him kicking and screaming into a woman’s bath shop, only to spray Hank with all of the scents in their men’s line, to see which one would smell best.
“Justin,” Hank whined. “I’ve got Earth on my left wrist, Sky on my right wrist, and Ocean on my chest,” because Justin had missed, “what are you putting on me now?”
“Oak,” Justin said absently, spraying Hank’s neck and hitting his mark this time. “Now shut up. I’m trying to smell.” He closed his eyes and stood on tip-toes, and inhaled, his nose very close to Hank’s neck. “Mm…” he said dreamily. “ That’s your smell.”
Hank blushed and bumbled backwards, almost running over the woman behind him, who did not look amused. “Do you have a smell?” he asked, flustered, and Justin smiled wickedly.
“I’m all about Sky, baby, cause that’s where Oak is reaching for.”
Hank’s lips quirked sideways. “Unless they’re burying their roots in Earth’s firmament,” he said, and Justin set the tester down and burst into giggles.
“Let’s get out of here, big guy, before you make any more puns and hurt yourself.”
And off they went. They bought some extra ornaments and garlands in their next stop, and then went and got Josie from Mrs. Watson’s, who was so excited she reminded Hank of Justin.
“Oh boy! Oh boy! Is Justin gonna decorate with us? Oh is he, Uncle Hank?”
After a short dinner, they jumped into the fray, letting Josie hang most of the ornaments below waist level. She ran to one or the other of them before each ornament, so they could examine it and tell her it was perfect, and then she placed it very carefully on the tree. Hank tended to prefer the Hallmark ornaments—his childhood trees had been filled with hand-me-downs and homemade—but this year, he was particularly proud to put a candy cane made of beads front and center. Josie had made it in daycare.
Justin held her up so she could put the star on the top and then string tinsel garlands all around the living room, and Hank put a nail in the front door to hang the new wreath on. When he was done with that, he disappeared into the kitchen to make cocoa and came back, setting it on the coasters on the coffee table, and looking around.
“It’s wonderful,” he pronounced, and Josie ran to give him a completely unsolicited, delighted hug.
And then to ask him if she could watch Shrek again after her bath, which he’d forgotten about.
But finally she was bathed and full of hot chocolate and her teeth were brushed, and Hank had read her one story and Justin had sung her a Christmas song in his sweet tenor, and she was fast, fast asleep.
Hank came out of her bedroom to find Justin in the kitchen, cleaning up.
And fell very much in love. Again.
He moved behind that compact, vital body, placed his hands on Justin’s hips and started to kiss the back of his neck. Justin gasped and put the pot he was washing down in the sink, and simply leaned back into Hank’s arms and allowed him to….
To kiss him, his neck, his back, his ears, his jaw, his shoulders....
To touch him, his chest, his face, his stomach, his arms, his throat….
To feel him, pressed up against Hank’s front, a willing, warm human being who was moaning breathlessly and grinding back against Hank as he breathed, touched, and pillaged the young man who had come bouncing into his life and who showed no inclination of leaving.
“You have to promise me something,” Hank whispered, and Justin moaned in return. “You have to promise me that no matter how this goes, you’ll smile at me tomorrow morning, okay? I’m starting to depend on that smile. I need to see it when we leave the house.”
“Deal.”
Hank
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