Free Turkey in the Snow by Amy Lane

mood!” he said, still laughing, and Hank slid up to put his head on the pillow next to him and pulled Justin, giggles and all, into his arms. He dropped little kisses in Justin’s silky and enviably straight black hair, on his temple, on his cheek, and then, as the giggles stilled, on his mouth. Justin opened his mouth and returned the kiss and Hank made a sort of desperate sound and ground his still-aching groin.
    “What do you want?” Justin asked, tucking his hands under Hank’s shirt and sweater, and Hank closed his eyes and shuddered.
    “Just touch me,” he begged. “Just…”
    “Yeah,” Justin whispered. “Here, Henry, let’s take your clothes off.”
    There was some scrambling and some breathless giggling but in a few moments, Hank was naked and lying on the sheets across from Justin, who pressed a kiss on his mouth and then scooted closer and wrapped his arms and legs around Hank’s body, just pulling him into a full-length, skin-on-skin embrace that left Hank shuddering.
    “C’mere,” Justin whispered against his neck, even though Hank was solid in his arms and they couldn’t get any closer without penetration. Hank didn’t want that, though. He found he was clinging to Justin, aroused— painfully aroused—but needing Justin’s skin, and his kindness and his joy with every fiber, atom, skin cell, particle, electron, platelet and neuron in his body. “Shh….”
    Justin stroked his back and his sides and even his backside, and when Hank’s hips started to buck, he slid his hand between their bodies and grasped Hank’s cock. He stroked jerkily because there was no room for anything else, but Hank was so primed, so high off the thrill of being touched, that Justin’s stuttering, inexpert touch was all he needed.
    He climaxed hard, the hot come spurting between them. His vision went black, the orgasm convulsing him into Justin’s arms until he huddled there, still shaking.
    Justin held him, nothing delicate or fragile in his touch at all, until Hank got hold of himself and tried to pull back, if nothing else, to restore his dignity.
    Justin’s embrace only grew tighter.
    “Stay,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
    Hank wanted to laugh. It was ludicrous, wasn’t it? Hank was the banker; Justin was the fun guy the kids loved. Hank had the house; Justin lived with his parents. Hank took care of Josie like he’d taken care of Amanda, and Justin… oh God. He was taking care of Hank. He was. He was clutching Hank right up next to him, naked and vulnerable and unafraid in a way Hank had never been.
    Hank found himself breathing shakily into the hollow of Justin’s neck, taking everything he had to offer.
     
     
    H E WASN ’ T aware of the moment he managed to pull himself together, but it came. He drew back a little and yanked the comforter over the two of them to their chins. Justin laughed and pulled it over their heads and looked at him in the light shining through the deep gold comforter, and Hank blinked back, relieved that he was Hank again because he’d felt a little lost as Henry.
    “That was good,” Justin whispered, and Hank smiled and nodded, feeling excited like a kid at Christmas.
    “That was wonderful. ”
    “Want to do it again?”
    For a moment he almost said no, they had to go to sleep, they both worked in the morning blah blah blah blah. Of course then it hit him; he had Justin, and he was naked, and he was in Hank’s bed , horny, and ready for a (hopefully slower) second round.
    Common sense reasserted itself in a hurry.
    “Oh God, yes,” he said, closing in for a kiss, and Justin’s laughing mouth opened for him and their secret hiding place from all the scary things in the world kept them safe while they made love again.

Drama
     
    C HRISTMAS E VE loomed in four days, and Hank was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
    It had to, right?
    He’d just been so damned happy.
    Yes—work, Josie, clean the house, repeat daily as necessary—all of that