Christmas Delights 3 (50 page)

"Thanks
handsome." Was all Peter gave him as he said a goodbye, and made his way
back to waiting tables. Disappointment flashed over Shaun. He'd been hoping for
a number or something. He righted himself and moved towards the door. He had
just been more adventurous, had awesome sex, and there was nothing to be
disappointed about.

Shaun made his way
stealthily to the bar and placed his order, but he hadn’t escaped everyone’s
attention. Carol sidled up to him. "Did you just fuck that blonde?"
She demanded. Shaun didn't have to respond, the blush that travelled up his
neck to his cheeks gave it away. He’d been busted.

"You lucky bastard.”
She laughed.

He hooked her arm in his
as she swung him around. "Right you, for actually having fun tonight your
punishment is to get drunk with me and dance. You gay boys know how to dance,
right?" They meandered their way through the crowd and headed to the dance
floor for a good night.

* * * * *

 “You what now?” Matt’s
disbelief was clear from the highly arched eyebrow, and lips so pursed they
could be used to unblock a sink. “I tell you to be more adventurous and you go
fuck a fucking elf?!”

“Well, yes.” Shaun
shrugged off the rebuke. He was only a little embarrassed about it. He’d
enjoyed himself with Peter and wasn't about to deny it.

Matt shook his head at
him and pursed his lips again “How dare you steal my moves.” He fiddled with a
scatter cushion as he tried to find the next, appropriate, insult to fling at
his friend. Not able to locate it, he pushed on, while tossing the cushion
aside.

“That’s the sort of thing
that I do. Then you criticise me for it. I ignore you and do it all over
again.” He flicked a finger up and down in front of Shaun and paused in
exasperation. “Before me I see a different person. One I wasn’t quite
expecting. It looks good on you, this new attitude.” He curled a lip, going
back to sipping his Egg Nog latte.

“Thanks” Shaun gave him a
twirl, ended it with a flourish and a curtsey then sank into the couch next to
Matt. “Does this new look make me look fat?”

“No honey” He paused just
a beat then added “It’s your fat that makes you look fat.” He’d found the
suitable insult. He pushed past the pained expression creeping its way onto
Shaun’s face and went straight for the killer question as a diversion “But is
this new you what you want?”

Shaun deflated a little
and took a moment to think before answering. “Well, I liked it, but I was a
little disappointed he didn’t offer to meet up again.” He settled back into the
couch, taking another sip of his cinnamon latte. “It wasn’t quite what I had in
mind when I talked about getting more of a dating life. But it’s a start,
right?”

“Well, honey, there’s no
point asking me about appropriate date behaviour. You keep telling me that I
should date more and sleep around less. Now look who’s not taking their own
advice.” He pointed at Shaun and sipped some more, blowing heat away first.

“But I do want to date. I
just don’t want to live like a monk while I wait for the right one to come
along.” Shaun knew his defence was weak. “So how do I get more dating options
then?” he pressed on.

“Look, it’s like you
said, it’s only a week until Christmas. Maybe you should wait until that’s all
over, then see who’s around at New Year. You know how desperate people are for
a bit of fun then.” Matt tried helpfully, but not successfully.

“Desperate huh? That
sounds just great.” Trying his ‘not impressed’ face, Shaun scowled.

“Look, we’ve got Jon’s
party at the weekend. That’s your last chance before Christmas, after that it’s
a New Year, and a new you. How about that?” Triumphant in his plan, Matt
decided this was to be the last word.

“Why are we having
Christmas flavoured coffee? It’s foul.” Shaun preferred their usual wine.

Ignoring Shaun’s
question, Matt gazed over Shaun’s shoulder at the tree and murmured “At least
our tree has class. Only thing in this place that does.”

* * * * *

The department store was
full of sparkling golden decorations, piped music that wished it could be
Christmas every day tinkled around, assaulting Shaun's ears. “Could you imagine
that?” Shaun muttered to no one as he wandered amongst kid’s toys. His nephews
would self-combust after about three days if it was always Christmas.

Slowly, he looked out
over the male themed action figures and picked one off the shelf. Wondering how
his own imagination had ever turned the lump of plastic into an action hero.
But as a kid he’d done it. He'd imagined a life full of high adventure, camaraderie,
and he'd even added in a love-life for each of his action figures. Either an
early sign that he was gay, or that he was to end up a hopeless romantic who
wanted to see everyone paired off.

"And what does this
young man want for Christmas?" A deep, sonorous, voice came rumbling from
behind him.

Shaun turned, expecting
to see the store Santa Claus accosting some child with fake cheer. He could
only see the Santa, no child was being tormented. Santa was looking directly at
him instead.

Feebly pointing at his
own chest and looking quizzical, Shaun checked that he was the one being asked
the question. Santa Claus nodded. Yes, the question had been aimed at him.

"I'd like world
peace. Failing that, how about arranging a date for early in the New
Year?" He wasn’t expecting a response to his flippancy. But Santa Claus
was on it, ever the customer friendly soul he'd been employed to be.

“That's a bit forward, I
don't even know you." Santa Claus said, lopsidedly smiling beneath the
mass of white beard.

A little thrown, Shaun
floundered for a response, but managed a half-hearted "Oh, sorry. I was
talking in general, not a date with you."

"Hey, you’re turning
down a date with Santa? Just think of all the presents you’re throwing away.”
Santa wasn’t letting go. “I can't do a date, but I do give a good blowie."
Santa laughed, shaking his massive belly of padding and red tunic. "But
seriously, it's true; I do give a good blowie."

"Really?”
Unimpressed Shaun screwed his face up “Thanks for that info. A real nightmare
inducing nugget there.” He shuddered at the thought, nearly ruining his
childhood memories. Shaun made to move back into the store.

“Hey, I’m quite fit under
all this costume. I bet you’d take me up on the offer any other time.” Santa
really was hanging on. To prove his point he opened up the red costume and gave
Shaun a long look at his muscular torso. Sleek and taught in a tight white
t-shirt, this Santa's torso was the definition of sculpted.

“See, you thought that I
was just some fat Bear with a beard.” Santa mocked him.

Santa motioned Shaun over
to his Grotto. Then flipped the sign so that it read ‘Grotto Opens Again Soon.’
Inside it was deep dark reds, edged with fake snow and ice. Santa took off his
tunic and beard; becoming just a guy. A guy with a very muscular torso and big
arms who knelt in front of Shaun. The guy unbuttoned Shaun’s jeans and loosened
them enough to slide them down his thighs. He nuzzled at Shaun’s dick through
the skin tight boxers and moaned into them, his breath blowing extra heat into
them.

Shaun firmed up rapidly
as he felt the mouth trail along his shaft and down over his balls. The touch
of a tongue lapping at his balls sent him to full hardness. When he pulled down
Shaun’s boxers and made for the prize Shaun gasped and welcomed the warmth
enveloping him.

With his mouth full of
Shaun’s dick, the muscle man's tongue worked some kind of magic as it slid
along. On the inwards slide he'd nestle his nose in Shaun’s hair, slip his
tongue down to lap at Shaun's balls, twisting his head as he went, so that the
dick was worked from every angle. He was right, he gave a good blowie.

Shaun realised he hadn’t
even asked him for his name. He panicked, his legs twitched, and he rested his
hands on the former Santa's head, in a feeble attempt at stopping the blow-job
he was receiving.

The guy, thinking that
Shaun was enjoying himself and wanted a quick release, slowed his pace and
popped his mouth off Shaun’s dick. “Told you I was good, huh.” He smiled up at
Shaun, pleased with his demonstration of skill.

Nodding his agreement,
but not able to give words to his second thoughts, Shaun stood there, jaw
hanging.

The anonymous sucker
looked up at Shaun’s face then down to his dick and licked his lips in
anticipation “It won’t take me long to finish you off. Just don’t come on the
beard, it takes ages to wash that stuff off, when you shoot aim for my chest.”

That was too much for
Shaun. “Sorry, I can’t do this.” He began scrabbling to pull up his boxers and
jeans, not able to look at the guy.

“What’s wrong?”

Shaun was confusing him.
His dick was saying one thing and his mouth another. “Nothing, it’s just, it’s
just that this isn’t right. It’s not what I want, sorry.” With a grimace and
his apology Shaun made for the door, blending in amongst the other shoppers.

* * * * *

Matt marched Shaun along
the street of sandstone tenements. The dark brown rows glittered from the light
leaking out of bay windows onto the slick left by the rain.

"I told you last
week. It’s Jon, the guy from the club last month; it’s his party." Matt
chattered while he walked, plotting and scheming as he went. He had grand plans
for the evening.

"Oh, so it's all
about getting you some action." Shaun smiled over at Matt, wiggling his
eyebrows at him. He aimed for suggestive but looked more like he’d lost control
of his face.

"Well, why should
you get all the fun? I mean, seriously, have you got some kind of seasonal
fetish going on? First the elf, then Santa. Now, all you need to do is date a
snowman and play with his snow balls, then you'll have the whole set."
Matt looked faintly put off by the idea of ice cold balls.

“There won’t be any of
that. I'm done messing around. It’s not getting me anywhere." Shaun shook
his head to emphasise his point. Then shared his conclusion; "I'm here,
queer, and not having sex, for a change." He strode onwards through the
wet streets, making Matt’s shorter legs work faster to keep up.

Matt snorted, steam
rising in front of his face. "Good, gives the rest of us a chance."
He cast a curious glance over at Shaun and asked "So, what's your fancy
dress then?"

"Um, you said tacky
Christmas clothes or a costume. So I've gone for that hideous Christmas sweater
my mum gave me last year." He batted back the curiosity "Why are you
a fairy?"

"I'm an Angel, not a
fairy." Matt’s blond quiff was doused in seasonal glitter. His slim,
slight frame was wrapped in white trousers and a matching shirt; which had a
pair of wings sprouting from the shoulders.

Shaun inspected the
outfit but wasn't convinced. "You sure? Nothing says fairy like a pair of
glitter wings. Where's your Halo?"

"It's in my bag. I
didn't want it all bashed about before I got to the party. Someone can play
with my ring and bash it later." Matt guffawed at his own dirty joke.
Shaun grimaced in mock disgust.

"So, is that your
new rule then?” Matt was back to questioning.

“What rule?” Shaun raked
his fingers through his hair, the dampness in the cold Scottish air making his
curls frizz.

“Your no sex rule. What’s
the actual rule bit? Is it no sex before a first date? No sex until they
declare undying love? What?” Matt pressed him into an actual definition.

“How about just, no sex
until after a first date?” Shaun was aiming to set the bar low.

Matt pulled them into a
doorway and pressed the doorbell. “Here we are. Behave yourself, and remember
your rules.” He nodded his instructions out to Shaun. Hearing someone shout for
them to come on in, he pushed at the door, heading for the noise of the party.

* * * * *

Sleigh bells tinkled with
the beat of eighties pop music as someone sang about Christmas, love, and being
together at Christmas. It wasn’t a tune Shaun knew.

"Oh there you
are." Matt appeared out of the crowd, returning from dumping coats and
fetching them both drinks. His angelic wings caught in the crook of someone’s
shepherd outfit. He brought with him a man around the same age; classically
handsome, with short brown hair cut to help define sharp toned facial features.
Looking him over, Shaun could see that this man was toned all over. A six pack
led down to a slim waist, and then into what could only be described as novelty
Christmas boxers. Red, with gold and green present boxes dotted all over them.
They couldn't be the warmest costume in the room.

"Nice costume"
Nodding at the boxers Shaun smiled at their owner.

"Hah, aren't they
sweet. This is Jon." Matt made the half-assed introduction.

"Nearly as hideous
as your sweater." Jon's opening line put Shaun on the defensive until he
remembered it was supposed to be hideous, that's why he had chosen it. Not
getting worked up about it, he smiled in response. Jon, not paying attention,
waved over Matt’s shoulder, beckoning someone else to come join them.

"Hey there, glad you
could make it." Jon welcomed a vision in brown to the group. This guy
outshone everyone in the room. He had it all; the chiselled cheekbones, cupid-bow
lips, dimpled chin, deep dark brown eyes, and stylishly mussed up hair. All of
which was set off by just the hint of a winter tan. Pale brown cords, nicely
taught over thick muscular thighs, and a deep brown sweater with two white eyes
and a red nose across the middle of it formed his costume. He'd gone for the
same as Shaun, a hideous sweater. Warm, stylish, yet still a costume.

"Guys, this is my
friend.” Waving at the vision, Jon made the introductions "And this is
Matt and Shaun." He waved his hand back again.