Picture by Sabina
The First Day of Christmas
“What the fuck?”
“And who anointed you the language police?” Brian demanded.
“Stop it, you two,” Lindsay said heaving a huge sigh. She was sick of the way Mel and Brian always went at each other. “Gus can hear every word,” she said placing her hands gently over Gus’ ears.
“I’m okay, Mommy,” Gus said trying to shake her hands away.
“Daddy and Mama are being very naughty,” Lindsay said by way of explanation.
“I know,” Gus giggled.
“What are you dressed up as, Sonny Boy?” Brian asked looking at the little pooky bit that bobbed atop Gus’ head.
“I’m a partridge,” Gus said proudly.
“A partridge? What the fuck is a partridge?”
“It’s a bird, Brian. You know that, don’t you?” Lindsay said condescendingly.
“I know it’s a fucking bird. What I don’t know is why my son is dressed as one.”
“He’s the First Day of Christmas.”
“You know, On the First Day of Christmas my true love sent to me,” Lindsay sang.
“A partridge in a pear tree,” Melanie continued.
“I know the song,” Brian snarled.
“And you get to be the pear tree,” Melanie said, trying to keep a straight face.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Brian demanded glaring at her.
“Gus was assigned the role of the partridge on the GLC float in the Christmas parade,” Lindsay said carefully. “Someone has to hold him on the float. He has to sit on a branch of the pear tree.”
“And that would be you … Mr. Pear Tree,” Melanie grinned, enjoying every minute of this.
“I’m not being a fucking tree,” Brian reacted. “No fucking way!”
“Please, Daddy,” Gus said as tears started welling up in his eyes. “I want to be in the parade. Please!”
“Gus has been on the GLC float every year since he was born,” Melanie reminded Brian.
“It’s a tradition,” Lindsay chimed in. “Remember when he was just a few months old, he was the baby Jesus.”
“Yes, I remember. You made me freeze my balls off standing in a fucking snowstorm waiting for Gus’s float to pass by.”
“And you survived, didn’t you, asshole?” Melanie asked. “You’ll survive being a fucking tree too.”
“I . AM . NOT . BEING . A . TREE! And that’s all there is to it.”
“Brian,” Lindsay wheedled. “I was going to do it, but they’re short of helpers to organize the floats. I said I’d look after that.”
“What about Madam Uber-dyke here?” Brian asked.
“I’m not allowed to do anything strenuous,” Melanie stated. “I’m supposed to rest as much as possible.”
“How strenuous is it to be a fucking tree?” Brian asked with a glare.
“Melanie can’t do it,” Lindsay said firmly. “She’s not allowed to stand for over an hour. You know she’s had some problems with her pregnancy.”
“Can’t she sit?” Brian wanted to know.
“How many sitting trees have you seen lately?” Lindsay demanded to know.
Brian ran a hand through his hair. He looked down into the teary eyes of his son who looked pleadingly back at him. With resignation he asked, “Where is the fucking costume?”
Gus let out a “Yippee!” and wrapped himself around Brian’s leg.
“I have it in the living room,” Lindsay replied with a cheery smile. “Follow me.”
Brian lifted his leg with partridge attached and proceeded to follow the mother of his son. Gus clung to his father’s leg, giggling all the way.
“This is it,” Lindsay said holding up a long brown hunk of fabric with yellow things hanging from it.
“It probably won’t fit me,” Brian said hopefully.
“We’re almost the same height, Brian,” Lindsay informed him, “and I had more than enough room. I think they made it to fit any size.”
Brian snorted. They could at least make a custom outfit for him if he had to be a fucking tree. “You expect me to wear that piece of shit?”
Gus giggled. “You said ‘shit’, Daddy.”
“I know, and you ain’t heard nuthin’ yet,” Brian griped.
“Try it on, Brian,” Lindsay encouraged him hoping to distract Brian from any more inappropriate language. Brian hesitated, already hearing in his head the catcalls from the men who would line the parade route. But then again, no self respecting stud would be seen near the Santa Claus parade, and certainly not riding on one of the floats.
“Pweeze, Daddy,” Gus begged reverting to his baby voice, as Brian dithered. Brian looked down.
Gus batted his eyelashes and stared back at his father. “It’s a twadition, Daddy,” he said softly.
“How the fuck do I get into this thing?” Brian asked deciding he could do this even if he was going to hate every fucking second of it. He shrugged out of his leather jacket.
“Just raise your arms and put them in here,” Lindsay said holding the opening of the suit out towards Brian.
Brian stuck his arms in and allowed Lindsay to pull the fabric over his head. “Watch the hair,” Brian admonished.
Lindsay laughed. “No one’s going to see your hair. They’ll just be able to see your face.”
“Yes, your face,” Lindsay repeated adjusting the opening that allowed Brian’s face to poke through the trunk of the tree. “There! You make a lovely tree.”
“Why doesn’t it cover my face? Trees don’t have faces,” Brian said. He had hoped he could be incognito in the costume.
“This tree has a face. It makes the humiliation complete,” Melanie laughed.
“Get me out of this fucking thing! I’m not doing it.”
“Melanie, for fuck sake! You’re not helping.”
“Get me out of this!” Brian demanded struggling to get hold of the material while his hands were encased in fabric with long slivers of material sticking off the ends of his fingers. They were supposed to look like twigs.
“Brian, calm down. You’re going to rip it,” Lindsay said.
“I don’t give a fuck! Get it off.”
“Daddy, pweeze, you said you’d be in the parade with me,” Gus cried, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. “It’s a twadition. Pweeze, Daddy.”
“Gus,” Brian said with exasperation.
“Pweeze, Daddy. I want to be in the parade.”
“Isn’t there someone else...?”
Lindsay shook her head. “You’re the last resort.”
“Figures,” Brian said shaking his head. He let out a long sigh. “Okay, Sonny Boy, I’ll be a fucking tree.”
“What are these annoying things?” Brian asked shaking the yellow balls that hung from his arms and trunk.
“The pears of course,” Melanie supplied.
“I have a pair of my own,” Brian stated. “I don’t need these.
“They’re part of the costume,” Lindsay said with a nervous laugh. “Are you ready to go?” She thought it would be wise to get Brian out of the house and to the start of the parade as quickly as possible before he changed his mind.
“How am I supposed to drive with this on?” Brian asked.
“We’ll go in my car,” Lindsay offered. “I’ll drive. We have to assemble at the park on Fuller and then we parade down Liberty to the GLC.”
“That’s fucking wonderful. All the way down Liberty Avenue?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
“I need to make a phone call first,” Brian declared.
“Briiaan,” Lindsay said.
“Get my fucking cell out of my jacket and hand it to me.” The tone of Brian’s voice told Lindsay she better do as ordered. She handed the phone to Brian who waddled his way into the dining room while managing with difficulty to push number one on his speed dial with his twig fingers.
“Come on, Gus, let’s get you buckled into the car,” Lindsay said as she put on her coat. She grabbed Brian’s jacket and carried it out with her.
Brian came back into the living room, flipping his phone closed as best he could with his clumsy long twigs.
“She’s in the car,” Melanie said. “Have fun.”
“Not bloody likely,” Brian griped as he worked his way out to the front door.
Melanie couldn’t help but chuckle as she closed the door behind him.
“There, do it just like that,” Lindsay instructed.
“I like it up here, Daddy,” Gus giggled.
“Great!” Brian replied snarkily.
“Brian, behave yourself. This is supposed to be fun for Gus, so be nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
Lindsay laughed. The Twelve Days of Christmas float was the next one to enter the parade route. Gus was perched on Brian’s shoulder. He looked so cute in his partridge costume. Lindsay stood on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “Remember to smile,” Lindsay said, “both of you. What are you looking for?” she asked Brian.
Brian had been straining his neck looking out into the street and across the park. “Um … nothing.”
“We’re just about ready to go,” Lindsay said. “Brace yourself against this box that’s made to look like a rock, just in case the float lurches,” she instructed Brian.
“Lurches! What kind of a death trap is this thing?”
“Mommy?” Gus asked uncertainly. He didn’t like the sound of the word death.
“Daddy’s just being a big baby, Lambskin. Don’t worry.”
“Brian!” a voice shouted from a distance.
“Thank the gods,” Brian said breathing a sigh of relief.
“Brian,” Justin called again as he reached the edge of the flatbed float.
“Did you bring it?” Brian asked.
“Bring what?” Lindsay asked.
“Come up here and put it on me,” Brian ordered.
Justin quickly climbed onto the float and drew something from his pocket. He reached inside the tree material and seemed to be tying something around Brian’s head. “Perfect,” he said after a minute.
“Justin, get off. The float’s ready to go,” Lindsay called.
“I love you,” Justin said kissing Brian’s cheek and then Gus’ before jumping down from the float. “You look wonderful, both of you. I’ll be waiting at the GLC when your float arrives.”
“Great,” Brian said as he turned to look at his partner.
Lindsay gasped when she saw Brian’s face. “What…?”
The float slowly pulled away.
“Fuck, Brian,” Justin cried as his orgasm ripped through him. He collapsed under Brian’s weight as his partner’s orgasm followed close behind his own.
They lay on top of each other for a few minutes until things came back into focus.
“That was fucking hot,” Justin gasped.
“Awesome,” Brian replied as he rolled off Justin.
“Worthy of Rage.”
“Yeah,” Brian chuckled.
“Are you ever going to take that thing off?” Justin asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve been channeling Rage all day.”
“At least it helped you get through the parade.”
“Yeah, Rage to my rescue,” Brian said as he reached behind his head and untied the Rage mask that Justin had tied around his head before the float entered the parade.
“You didn’t need the mask, you know,” Justin explained. “You looked fabulous up there with Gus on your shoulder.”
“I did need the mask,” Brian contradicted.
“Why?” Justin asked turning to look at Brian with a frown creasing his brow.
“Nobody really knows who Brian Kinney is, and that’s the way I like it.”
“I know who you are,” Justin declared.
“Yeah, but you’re special.”
Justin smiled one of those megawatt smiles that took Brian’s breath away. “I love you,” Justin whispered.
“I let Rage take center stage today. Brian Kinney was someplace else.”
“So you could enjoy it … by not being there.”
Brian felt a smile curl the edges of his mouth. “You really are a smart little fucker.”
“I learned from the master.”
“Maybe there’s a few other things I can still teach you,” Brian suggested as he captured Justin’s lips in a long, hot kiss.
“You know you can teach me anything.”
“But I really am proud of you,” Justin whispered. “You made Gus very happy today. All he could talk about was how you helped him keep his twadition.”
“He’s a cute kid.”
“Just like his daddy.”
“Ready for another lesson?” Brian asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Ah, an eager student. My favorite thing.”
Brian continued his lesson on the pleasures of anal penetration.
Some time later, Justin lay curled up against Brian, sleeping peacefully. Brian ran his fingers through the short blond locks. He hoped Justin’s hair grew back fast. The buzz cut was interesting, but Brian liked to wrap his fingers in the soft long hair that Justin had worn before his escapades into vigilantism.
Brian watched the rise and fall of Justin’s chest. He studied the soft lips parted ever so slightly. There was a gentle flutter to Justin’s eyelids. Brian leaned in and kissed Justin’s flawless forehead, then moved the hair a bit to see the scar on his temple. He leaned down and kissed that spot too, causing Justin to sigh and squirm even closer.
Smiling, Brian knew that this was his secret Christmas tradition … watching his lover sleep. He could never get enough of it. It was a Christmas tradition and a nightly ritual. Brian Kinney knew when life was good, and everything good was lying right next to him.
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