Arcanum (Tales from the Tarot)

36. Chris

Chapter thirty-six

Chris

T he week of Christmas finally arrived and in less than twenty-four hours, I would come face to face with my dad for the first time in six months. Normally I looked forward to his visits home—or my visits to Florida. Not this time.

I was too busy trying to come up with a suitable story as to why Greyson was having Christmas Eve dinner with us. And Christmas brunch. And Christmas dinner. Basically, why the neighbor, who had a perfectly good house next door, was spending all of his free time with me and catering all of our meals. There was the friendly “invite the orphan to dinner” Christmas spirit and then there was… an obvious relationship, which my dad knew absolutely nothing about.

“Have you thought about simply telling your father the truth when he’s here? Instead of trying to come up with an elaborate charade and giving yourself an ulcer in the process?” Greyson asked as he slid his soapy hands over my chest, releasing a waft of peppermint and vanilla into the air. I never was a specialty soap kind of a guy, but thanks to Greyson, I could see the appeal, especially when my skin got all tingly from the peppermint.

“Sure I’ve thought about it. It’s all I can think about,” I sighed, trying to focus on him more than my predicament. The steady stream of water behind me gave me a mini-massage on my shoulders, but even that couldn’t get the tension throughout my body to release.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” His hands slipped down my abs, trailing dangerously close to my dick.

“He’ll be disgusted and disown me? Then I’ll be homeless and without a family.” I grimaced, realizing I sounded like a complete asshole for saying that to him, of all people.

One soapy hand encircled me, stroking gently. I’m sure it was all under the pretense of “cleaning,” but my dick had other ideas.

“Your father loves you,” Greyson said softly, as if it was any other conversation and he wasn’t in the process of jacking me off. “He’ll never disown you.”

“Was your dad cool with it when you told him?”

A soft frown curved his mouth and his hand stopped for a moment before gliding over my stomach again. “He was disappointed. He never said anything to me about it, but I knew… in the way I know things. That feeling in him faded pretty quickly, but I could never forget it.”

“I’m sorry. How old were you?”

“Sixteen. I’d known I was gay for years but that was when I finally worked up the courage to tell them. After that, that feeling I got, I had a hard time embracing who I was. It took me so long to tell them the truth and then I turned around and put myself back in the closet until college.”

“I’m glad you didn’t stay in there.” I nuzzled the side of his neck, pressing kisses to his wet skin. He smelled like peppermint too, tempting me to take a bite.

“Mhmm. Imagine if I’d never come into your life, who would have taught you all of this?” He took both of our cocks between his hands. They slipped and slid against each other with the soap and warm water, growing harder by the second.

“No one,” I sighed. “I only want you.” Lifting his chin, I sealed my lips to his, sweeping my tongue into his waiting mouth the same way our hard-ons glided against each other in his capable hands.

Capturing his jaw in one hand, I kissed him hard, backing him up against the shower wall. He grunted in surprise, or disapproval of the cold tile, but his hands slid around my hips, grabbing my ass to pull me closer, not to shove me away. I rolled my hips against his, loving the way our cocks moved against each other. Just feeling his body against me was a novelty I’d never get tired of. The warmth, the pressure, the friction. Everything felt amazing with him.

Spinning him away from me, I flattened him against the shower wall again and kissed the back of his neck. I worked my way down his spine, skimming my hands along his body as I sank to my knees. Taking a moment, I squeezed appreciative handfuls of his ass before spreading his cheeks apart and burying my face between them.

“Oh fuck,” Greyson sighed, arching his back even more for me.

Slipping my hand between his thighs, I found his cock and stroked it, earning me another moan. I continued to lavish attention on his ass, licking and kissing his hole and taint, biting and sucking his perfect cheeks. If it was within reach, I made sure to worship it with my hands or my mouth.

Flicking my tongue around his rim, I smiled to myself when he started thrusting into my hand with more earnest. That meant he was on the cusp of an orgasm, which we couldn’t have. Not yet, anyway.

I kissed his asscheek one last time and got to my feet again, dragging my tongue upward slowly, following his spine from his tailbone to his neck. Gliding my hands over his wet skin but making sure to avoid his dick, I let them drift from his stomach to his chest, skimming over his nipples.

“Darling, I say this with love,” Greyson panted, tilting his head back against my shoulder and raking his fingers through the top of my wet hair, “but you better fuck me in the next two seconds or I might have to take matters into my own hands.”

A wave of tingles swept over me and it had nothing to do with the soap. It always happened when he called me “Darling,” especially during sex, in that breathy voice that bordered on desperation.

“Baby, I’ll fuck you six ways from Sunday if that’s what you want. Just say the word.” I bit his neck to hear him moan again, sucking hard at the tender spot. Before I got myself in trouble for leaving a hickey, I let go and reached for the tub of coconut oil on the tiled ledge.

“It’s nice to see you’re taking an organic approach to your skincare,” Greyson mused as I scooped out some of the white stuff and massaged it into his hole, pushing one finger in slowly. He let his forehead fall against his forearm, swearing softly as I moved it in and out.

“What can I say? You’re rubbing off on me.”

“In more ways than one.” He flicked his hips backward, taking my finger deeper with a satisfied groan. “What are you waiting for?”

I slid my finger back out and scooped up some more of the coconut oil, trying to coat my hard-on in the emulsion as fast as I could while he resumed stroking his dick. “For someone who’s supposed to be a zen guru, or whatever, you’re rather impatient today, you know that?”

“I told you, I’m a mirror.”

“Then mirror this.” I pressed the head of my cock inside of him slowly, drawing out his moan as his body stretched around me. It didn’t matter how many times we had sex, I didn’t think I’d ever get over how amazing it was. And he wasn’t kidding about the mirror thing. The hornier I was, the hornier he was, which made for some pretty epic moments together. Not to mention exhausting.

Sliding my hands over Greyson’s hips, I held onto him as I began thrusting. He braced against the wall, meeting each thrust with a snap of his hips. The sound of wet skin echoed off of the tile in a way that was both obscene and kind of a turn-on.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I said, holding onto him a bit harder than normal since everything was so slippery.

Afraid I was going to bruise him, I snaked one arm around his chest and grabbed onto his opposite shoulder, pulling him backward so he was flush against me. My other hand slid over his lower abdomen, pressing in right above his cock, a little trick I’d learned from the Googles. I maintained the pressure there as I fucked into him, aiming for his prostate. I knew I got the right angle when he cried out and nearly pitched face-first into the wall, despite my arm wrapped around him. He stopped himself just in time by grabbing onto the shower ledge, sending the jar of coconut oil and a bottle of body wash clattering to the floor.

I laughed, immensely pleased with that reaction, while he hissed out a “Shit!” before another moan and a pitiful, “Darling, I—”

“I know, baby. I’m right there,” I panted, trying to thrust into him quicker while maintaining the pressure on his pelvis.

“No. It’s not—Chris, stop!”

But I couldn’t. At the same time he said it, a wave of euphoria hit me. It must have hit him too because the next thing I knew, he clenched around my cock so hard I made a strangled noise. His dick pulsed in my fist as mine unloaded inside of him.

“Chris, are you—Oh my God!” Another voice said behind me— outside the shower.

My dad.

“Dad?!” My blissful moment was absolutely shattered. All that remained was confusion and horror. Somewhere under that lurked deep-rooted fear. “Get out!”

It’s not like he could see anything… other than two naked guys behind a wall of steamy glass in a pose that could have only meant one thing.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Oh my God.” The bathroom door slammed shut.

Mouth agape, I stared at Greyson as he spun in my arms to face me, his lower lip caught between his teeth, cringing. “You could have warned me!”

“I tried! As soon as I knew he was there, I tried to say something.” Laying his hands on either side of my face, he kissed me gently despite the fact I didn’t kiss him back. “At least now he knows and the worst part is over.”

“That is not how I wanted him to find out!”

“It is less than ideal… but it can’t be undone. So you might as well make the best of it.” He shrugged helplessly, knowing his optimism was falling on deaf ears.

“Oh my God.” I squeezed my eyes shut, replaying the last sixty seconds in my head, trying to gauge what he heard—and saw. “This is a fucking train wreck. He’s not supposed to be here until tomorrow!” My eyes flew open, locking onto Greyson’s. “Did you know he was coming early?”

The sour look he gave me was the only answer I needed.

“I’m sorry,” I continued, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “I’m just…”

“I know,” he said gently, touching my cheek. “But I can tell you he was equally surprised and that is all.”

“Not disgusted?” I winced even asking the question.

Greyson shook his head.

“Ok.” I exhaled a slow breath and returned my gaze to Greyson’s gray eyes, so calm and full of the gentle strength I’d come to rely on more than once since we went public with our relationship. “But just so you know, your timing sucks.”

He smirked. “You still got off. Quit your bitching.”

“Yeah, but now the whole thing is tainted. It went from a ten to a zero, like that.” I snapped my fingers.

“We’ll have to try again. Give you a new memory to focus on.” He squeezed my ass with a sexy wink.

“No. We’re done with showers. He’s too traumatized,” I said, gesturing to my dick.

“We can work on exposure therapy later. In the meantime, go talk to your father.” He smacked my ass and pointed to the bathroom door.

“I don’t want to!” I fully realized I was a grown man whining like a toddler, but even with his magical abilities, I didn’t think Greyson understood the depth of my apprehension. I was the apple of my parents’ eyes. It was the kind of relationship every kid wished they had and I didn’t want to ruin that in one conversation, even though it was probably already fucking ruined.

“Darling, I know,” he repeated, caressing my face with both hands, his eyes full of compassion and sincerity. “Believe me. But you’ll feel better when you do. I promise.”

“Do you know that or are you saying it so I quit putting it off?”

He gave me one of his brightest smiles and kissed me before sliding open the shower door and stepping out—conveniently not answering my damn question.

Huffing, I followed him.

As soon as we were dressed, we headed for the stairs, hand in hand.

“He’s in the living room,” Greyson said. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“No, I want you with me.” I clung to his hand.

He smiled and raised our hands, kissing the back of mine. “I’ll be there… in a bit. You need to do this part on your own.”

My shoulders slumped and I faced the stairs with a wariness I hadn’t felt since I was eighteen and came home drunk after Homecoming. Dad hadn’t exactly been happy with me, but I didn’t get an ass-chewing, either. Somehow his disappointment had been worse than his anger and I was in no hurry to experience that feeling again.

“Trust me, he doesn’t want to have this conversation either. But it needs to happen.” Greyson gave me another quick kiss and slipped his hand out of mine before slinking down the stairs, as silent as ever. I doubted Dad would have even noticed him unless he was watching the stairs.

At the bottom, Greyson glanced over his shoulder and gave me another wink before drifting out of view.

I ran my hands over my thighs, trying to psych myself up, when I felt something hard in my pocket. Shoving my hand inside with a furrowed brow, I withdrew a crystal. A tiger’s eye. Courage, according to Greyson’s crash-course on the various crystals he had stashed around the house. Even though I tried to fight it, a small smile worked itself across my mouth. I had no idea when he managed to slip it in there, but I was suddenly grateful that he had.

Tucking the tiger’s eye back into my pocket, I descended the stairs and schooled my face into some version of “normal” and not like I was still horrified by what had happened.

As soon as I hit the landing, Dad jumped to his feet in the living room, his hands held out in front of him. “I am so sorry, Chris! I did not mean to walk in on—”

I held a hand up, grimacing. “It’s ok. I’d rather not get into the details.”

“I heard something fall and I was afraid you got hurt, so I was coming to check on you and—”

“What are you doing here?” I asked over the top of his explanation. “You said you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“No, I told you I was coming today.”

“No,” I shot back. “Your text said ‘See you on 23 at 10.’ It’s the twenty-second.”

He huffed and pulled out his phone, no doubt going to pull up his text messages. “Right here, I said ‘See you on… 23 at 10.’” His face fell. “Shit. I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize I sent the wrong information.”

“It’s ok. I’m glad you made it safe. How was your flight?”

He blinked at me. “How was my flight? That’s what you want to talk about?”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about the other thing,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets and gripping the tiger’s eye.

“You’re dating someone and you don’t even tell me about it?” Dad frowned. “I mean… I assume you’re dating if you’re…” He trailed off uncomfortably, giving a vague gesture toward the stairs and the master bath beyond them.

“You want to know about the guy that I’m dating?” I raised my brows at him. “The man you saw me with. You want to know about him ?” There was no way he could have mistaken Greyson for a biological female and yet I felt like I needed to make sure he knew that the other person up there was, indeed, a man in every possible way.

“Yeah.” Dad shrugged, not looking entirely convinced at his own reply. “I mean, if he’s in your life, I want to know about him.”

“So you don’t care that he’s a he ? Makes no difference to you?”

“I mean, I guess I’m a little surprised, but whatever makes you happy, son.” He frowned again. “Is that why you didn’t tell me? Because you thought I wouldn’t approve?”

It was my turn to shrug with a slight wince, not wanting to admit my lack of faith in him out loud.

“Oh, Chris.” Dad closed the distance and hugged me tightly. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

Relief washed over me with a sudden vengeance, so much so that I wanted to cry and I hadn’t done that since my mom died. I’d built up this moment in my head for months and for what? An unfounded fear that my dad would suddenly hate me? That he wouldn’t support my decision?

Guilt slammed home the second I looked up and saw Greyson in the doorway of the living room, carrying a tray with mugs and a plate of scones. Why did I get to have the easy conversation and he had a shitty one? My dad didn’t care, but his did. Now he had to feel a rush of love and acceptance from the two of us and compare it to what happened when his dad found out. How was that fair?

“I thought you two might like some coffee,” Greyson said quietly, setting the tray on the coffee table. “And something to eat.”

“Dad, this is Greyson,” I said as Greyson approached my side.

“ My Greyson?” Dad blinked and did a double take. “I mean, my tenant Greyson? From next door?”

Greyson nodded, extending his hand. “One and the same. I’m sorry we didn’t meet in another way.”

Dad chuckled and shook his hand. “Yeah, I gotta tell you, not what I was expecting when I got here.”

“Did you put cinnamon in the coffee?” I asked quietly, pretending I didn’t hear my dad.

“As always, darling,” Greyson whispered back before directing Dad’s attention to the plate. “That’s rosemary on the top. You can eat it as is, or take it off.”

“Rosemary, huh?” Dad picked up a scone and sniffed before taking a tentative bite. I wrapped my hand around the base of Greyson’s neck and squeezed gently, trying to reassure him for a change. I’d told him that my dad would like anything he made and not to worry about the menu this week. Like me, he wasn’t picky in the food department. After he swallowed, Dad nodded, studying the scone with a new appreciation. “That’s probably the best scone I’ve ever had.”

“Do you regularly eat scones?” I asked.

“I have, on occasion,” Dad replied, making a face at me.

We fell into an awkward silence after that. Dad at least had the excuse of eating the rest of his scone. I busied myself grabbing a cup of coffee, taking comfort in the dash of cinnamon Greyson included. Along with… honey? I looked at him quizzically and he nodded. Shrugging, I took another sip, savoring the new addition.

When he first started making my coffee, I knew something was different (other than the obvious cinnamon) but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was until I watched the process one evening.

True to the aristocratic image he presented, Greyson didn’t dump pre-ground coffee into a basic percolating pot and call it a day, like I had done for the better part of twelve years. Oh no. He only used freshly ground beans and then trotted out a French press to produce the best coffee I’d had in my life. He didn’t even drink coffee, but he’d gone out of his way to get the best of the best—for me. Just for me.

I think that was the moment I actually fell in love with him. It had been warming the center of my chest with every sip of coffee, just like the cinnamon, for weeks before I scribbled it on his shoulder in black ink and finally whispered it out loud on his birthday.

Greyson smiled and rubbed the small of my back.

“So, uh, how’d you two…? I mean, how long…?” Dad trailed off, gesturing with a second scone.

“Um, well. We—Babe?” I looked at Greyson for the answer. It had been such a gradual thing, I didn’t know when the official start date was. The first time we kissed? Had sex? Said I love you? Our first bonfire, which could conceivably be considered our first date?

“I’d say it all started the day he fixed my dishwasher,” Greyson replied, considering me with a small smile. “We talked for hours that night and it felt… different.”

“Oh my God,” I practically melted at the memory. “He made the most incredible steak panini and French onion soup. And I can’t wait for you to try his chocolate cake. It’s amazing.”

Greyson blushed and nudged me.

“I’m happy for you, son,” Dad said with a smile. “And you too, Greyson.”

“Thank you, Mr. Brandt.”

“Stop. Call me Mike.” Dad waved him off and stepped forward, hugging Greyson and slapping his back. It was a good thing Greyson was sturdier than he looked. I’d seen Dad knock more than one athlete over with that affection. Still, it warmed my heart to see. Greyson had been accepted into the family. We had been accepted. As corny as it was, it was the best present I could have hoped for.