Kris T. Bethke–Author of M/M Romance

**Let’s take a pause in the ramp up to the release of Something Like Peace, and visit with Garrett and Andrew once again as they get ready to visit with Garrett’s family.  (You can catch up with part 1 and part 2 if you need to.)  Enjoy!**

I was not a coward.

I’d jumped off 40 foot cliffs with nothing but a bungee cord attached to my ankle. I’d gone deep sea diving and not even flinched when the stingrays swarmed.  Hell, I drove in upstate New York in the middle of winter, for fuck’s sake. So it was no fear holding me back.  It was not fear that caused the hard knot in my stomach.  It was dread that filled me with trepidation.  And maybe a little bit of nerves.  And possibly worry.

But certainly not fear.

I loved Garrett with everything I had, and he’d made my world brighter from the moment I met him.  Things had been bleak since my parents disowned me, since I’d lost that loving support of my siblings.  I hadn’t known how they’d react when I gave them the news about my sexuality, but I’d been hoping for the best.  They’d never said anything negative in my presence, so I had reason to hope.  To have that crushed had killed a part of me.  And though I’d survived, and even thrived, in the years since, it still hurt.  Garrett claimed to have his family’s support and love, but I also knew I was the first serious boyfriend he’d had.  We were making a life together, one we were working at making last, and I knew that could change everything.  Knowing your son was gay was one thing; actually seeing him settled with another man was something else entirely.  I never wanted Garrett to face the kind of rejection I’d had to face.  And it seemed especially cruel to subject him to that at the holidays.

Christmas had never been a big deal in my house to begin with, but when I’d been kicked out and abandoned it meant even less.  I didn’t hate the holidays; I just didn’t see much point of celebrating them on my own.  And if Garrett was to be believed, I’d turned jaded.

I pushed that thought from my mind, not wanting to dwell on the things we’d hurled at each other during our fight.  We’d wanted to be hurtful, and we’d both succeeded.  I felt like a piece of me had been ripped off when he’d driven away and had instantly started planning ways to make it up to him.  When he’d texted, I’d replied, even as I worked to bring all his decorations out of storage.  I knew it would be the only thing that would make him forgive me.  Well, that and agreeing to spending the holidays with his family.  Whom I had never met.

He’d begged me to clear my schedule, and since I had nothing pending, I’d cashed in a few favors, passed out the work that couldn’t be left, and taken the week off.  My boss was just ecstatic that, for once, she wouldn’t have to pay out all of my vacation time come the end of the year.  Garrett had already requested the week off and had been anticipating his vacation for months.  I wanted it to be everything he wanted, and I even tried to be excited when he talked about it.  We were leaving in the morning, and the drive would take us five or six hours depending on traffic and weather.

Beside me, Garrett slept peacefully, his face smooth and his lush lips parted slightly.  He breathed heavily, not quite a snore, and I lay there watching him.  I couldn’t sleep myself.  I was too ramped up, agitated.  Nervous, really.  My mind would not shut off.  There were so many things that could go wrong, and I wanted so badly for Garrett to have the holiday he deserved.

I slid out of bed carefully so I didn’t disturb him, and then padded on nearly silent feet into the living room.  The dark specter of the tree seemed ominous, and I fumbled around until I could get the tree plugged in.  The light was blinding for a second, but then my eyes adjusted.  The colors bounced off each other and the shiny ornaments, making the whole tree seem to glow.  It really was lovely.  I sat on the end of the couch and leaned my head back, turning to the side to so I could just stare at the tree.

Suddenly I had a lapful of warm, sleepy boyfriend.  I automatically reached up to steady him so he didn’t fall, and Garrett snuggled right in.  He was only wearing his boxers, and he shivered in the cooler air.  I wrapped him up tightly, and grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch.

“Whatcha doin up?” Garrett asked, then gave a jaw cracking yawn.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I answered simply.  It was the bare bones truth.  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Tree lights always wake me.  I think it’s ingrained from my childhood.”  Garrett snorted out a tiny laugh as he snuggled in deeper.  “Turn your brain off, Andrew.  Everything is going to be fine.  We’re going to have a great time at my parents’.  It’s gonna be an awesome holiday.”

I wanted to believe that so badly.  For his sake.  “Tree is really gorgeous,” I said, changing the subject.

He was quiet for a moment, and then let out a soft sigh.  “It is.  And you didn’t want to put one up at all.”

I laughed and hugged him closer.  “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.”  He went quiet again, and I was content to hold him and stare at the sparkling lights.  Then he turned his head and kissed my neck.  “It’s going to be a Christmas to remember.”

I nodded.  There was no doubt about that.  The question was, would be remembering good times?  Or bad?  I stared at the tree and sent up a fervent Christmas wish it would be the former.

We’d find out tomorrow, when we got to our destination, if my wish would come true.

**As promised, here’s the second episode in Garrett and Andrew’s continuing saga.  Let’s join them as they finish decorating the tree.  Oh and also?  NSFW!!**

“Tell me about this one.”

I chuckled but didn’t turn from where I was hanging an intricate glass snowflake on one of the upper branches. “Not every one has a story,” I said gently.  I loved that Andrew was asking.  He’d really done his best to get into the spirit of decorating the tree.  Mostly that entailed him unwrapping ornaments and handing them to me to hang on the tree.  And once I told him the stories surrounding the first couple of ornaments, he’d asked after each one.

“I bet this one does though,” he said, and I heard the amusement in his tone.  I turned to see which one he had, and a grin broke out on my face.

My name spelled out in polymer clay, each letter a different color of the rainbow.  The G was a little fatter than the rest of the letters, and the last T was a bit off kilter.  The ribbon hanging  between the two R’s was tattered but still strong, yellowed with age and no longer the pristine white it had once been.  I took it reverently from Andrew’s fingers and turned to place it gently on the tree, front and center, in it’s usual place of honor.

“My mom made me that one,” I said, tracing the letters with a finger.  “I was ten.  She was trying to let me know it was okay to tell them who I was.”

Andrew’s arms  slid around my waist, and he pressed a kiss on my temple even as he snugged me back against his chest.  “Do you get your love of Christmas from her?”

I blinked.  Not the question I’d been expecting.  But I knew Andrew was still working on being comfortable with a family that was so accepting.  It was a foreign concept, one he had no first hand knowledge of, and I had to be patient while he made peace with it.  I settled back against him and answered him.

“Actually, no.  Mom likes the holidays just fine.  But my utter love of all things Christmas came from my dad.”

Andrew let out a startled laugh, and I could tell what he was thinking even before he spoke.  “Stoic, grumpy Garrett Senior loves Christmas?”

I turned my head far enough so I could see his face, and then gave him a huge grin.  “Oh yeah.  Not that he says it out loud or anything.  But Dad’s the one that taught me decorating the tree so early, decorating everything that stands still actually.  Dad’s the one that will be playing Christmas music from now until Christmas Day.  And don’t even get me started on his movie collection.”

Andrew was completely nonplussed.  It was all over his face. I did my best to rein in my mirth.  I didn’t want him to think I was laughing at him.  Instead, I pulled out of his embrace, then took his hand and tugged him back a few steps so that we could see the entire tree.  I let out a deep, content sigh.  It was beautiful, and I loved the way it looked in the corner of our small but cozy living room.

“Looks pretty damn good,” Andrew murmured.  He slid his hand up over my shoulder and into my hair, and I all but melted.  It was gorgeous, and I was so happy.  But what made it so beautiful, what made this tree so special, was that we had done it together.

“You know,” I began, turning into him until I could straddle his thigh.  I bit my lip as I looked up at him through my lashes. “I’ve always had this fantasy.”

He sucked in a harsh breath through his nose, and I watched as his pupils dilated, the black swallowing up the brown.  He grabbed onto my waist and pulled me in closer.  “Is that so?” he asked, his voice dipping lower.  I fought a shiver.  “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

There were about a dozen things I could have said.  I could have made the words sweet and flowery.  Made it seem like it was a celebration or a necessity.  But I couldn’t think when he was looking at me like that, so I went with the bald truth.  “I’ve always wanted to get fucked on the floor, next to a lit up Christmas tree, by the man I love.”

Like magic, I was naked, and an equally naked Andrew was biting at my lips at the same time he was trying to guide me down to lay on the rug by the tree.  It was a more difficult task than he envisioned, I think, because I had to shoo him off to get lube in order to get the job done.  He ran, and when he returned, I was spread out and wanting, my knees drawn up and showing everything off.  Andrew’s moan was deep and heartfelt. He pounced, his kisses devouring and powerful, even as he pushed slick fingers into my body.  I wasn’t usually a passive lover, but all I could do was spread my knees wider and take it.  I loved it when he got growly and aggressive, but it was made even better by the sparkling multi-colored and white lights on the gorgeous tree.

But the tree couldn’t hold my interest for long.  Not with Andrew methodically fingering my hole, making me whimper and whine and damn near beg for it to be his cock instead.  Finally, he took pity on me, and moved between my legs, hooking one arm underneath my knee and positioning us just right.  I felt the head of his dick bump against my hole, then push ever so slightly without breaching me.  I whined in the back of my throat, and Andrew gripped my hair in his fist, then tugged and turned my head so I could see nothing but the tree.

With one long, forceful thrust, he slid into my body and I just howled.

Andrew’s rhythm was solid and quick right from the start.  Every time I tried to turn my head to look at him, he tightened his grip on my hair.  I scrambled for purchase, my fingers digging into his shoulders, arms, and hips.  Anything I could get a hold of.  Andrew knew how to play my body, and he knew all the best spots.  He could have me whining and begging for hours, drawing out our pleasure, until I nearly exploded with my release.  That didn’t seem to be his goal tonight.  Instead, he went right for the angle he knew would drive me wild, and that coupled with the hair pulling and the tree, I was ready to come embarrassingly fast.  I tried to hold it back, but Andrew grabbed onto my cock with a sure grip, rubbed his thumb on my frenulum at the same time he thrust in hard and growled at me.

I was a goner.

My entire body contracted as I came, shooting spurt after spurt of cum all over his hand and both our stomachs.  I was helpless as the orgasm racked my body, but as soon as I had my wits back, I squeezed my ass muscles at the same time I wiggled my hips.  Andrew had been close already, and that was enough to throw him over.  I held him as he shook and came, and then pulled him on top of me so he would stay in my ass when he was done.

I kissed his sweaty hair, his ear, his neck.  He nuzzled and kissed right back.  When he started to go soft, he reached down and touched my hole as he slid out so he could feel his cum on my skin.  It was something he’d done ever since the first time we’d gone bare; the night he’d moved in.  I spread my legs as far as they would go so he’d have plenty of time to play.

“I love you,” I murmured, then gasped as he slid his fingers into my tender ass.

“I know. I love you too.”  Suddenly he looked up, and a grin bloomed on his lips.  “Decorating the tree was the best idea we ever had.”

I could do nothing but laugh, and pull him close.

With heavy steps, I climbed the two flights of stairs that led to my apartment.  We’d been fighting before I left on Wednesday to drive the five hours back to my childhood home to spend the holiday with my family.  We’d barely talked since.  I’d wanted him to come with me, had reassured him up and down that my family would love to have him, but he refused to come.  His own family had turned their back on him the moment they found out he was gay.  And despite my family being supportive of me, of knowing who I was and loving me just as hard as always, he didn’t want any part of my family or the holiday.

I wouldn’t have gotten so upset if he’d been logical.  We’d only been together six months, and living together for barely six weeks.  I understood that even though he was committed to me, to making us work and thrive, that he was gun shy where family came in.  If he’d left it at that, I’d have been disappointed but understanding.  But my boy had a temper, and when I’d pushed too far in a last ditch effort to get him to come along, he’d snapped.  The comments about my family faking their acceptance were hurtful, but even then, I’d at least understood where he was coming from.  When he said he’d never spend a holiday with my family, and that he wouldn’t even be celebrating any holiday at all, I’d lost my own cool.  He knew how I felt about holidays, and how much I loved Thanksgiving and Christmas in particular.  I’d stormed out, leaving him steaming, and driven away.

I’d spent the last two days missing him like crazy.

We’d texted a little, talking about nonsense things,  but neither one of us had called.  Neither one of us apologized either.  I didn’t know what I was walking into.  But I knew I didn’t want to give him up.  We were amazing together, and an argument even as big as this one, didn’t diminish that.  He’d texted his love, and I’d returned the sentiment.  I had to have faith in what we were building, and that we’d work through this now that we’d both had time to calm down.  I’d left early this morning, earlier than I normally would have, just so I could get back to him and try.

I took a deep breath before I pushed the key into the lock, turning the deadbolt on the steel reinforced door, and pushing it open with my shoulder.

“Babe?” I called out, dropping my duffle in the entryway and toeing off my sneakers.  I kept hold of the bag with the leftovers.  My mother had thoughtfully packed them, and I knew he’d devour them once he saw what was inside.  “I have good food and kisses for you.”

I tried for playful even though he’d hadn’t responded.  I knew he was home.  His car was in the parking lot.  I’d looked. I shrugged out of my coat and hung it and my scarf in the tiny hall closet, then took another deep breath before I turned the corner into our apartment proper.

I stopped dead at the sight before me.  He was standing in the middle of the living room surrounded by the big plastic bins in which I carefully stored the Christmas decorations every year. He’d shoved the couch down the wall and set the tree up in the corner.  I had a fake one because I was allergic to the real thing, but it worked out well because I could have it up longer.  He even had the lights untangled and laying on the end of the couch, ready to wrap around the tree.  My breath caught as I took it all in, and I started to tear up as I found his gaze again.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, blushing hard.  He blew out a breath, and I knew from his expression just how sincere he was.  “For what I said and for how I acted.  I was wrong and I’m sorry and I want to spend all the holidays with you and your family.”

I took three steps to the left so that I could set my bag on the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen.  And then I launched myself at him, hugging him tightly, breathing him in.  The last couple of days had sucked, and I really thought he’d been serious about not celebrating holidays.  But here he was, ready to decorate for Christmas with me, knowing it was my tradition to do it the day after Thanksgiving and really get into the spirit of the season.

I pulled back and grinned, then took his face in my hands and kissed him hard.  It turned out I had even more to be thankful of than I thought.