Holiday Cheer from Andrew Grey and Amy Lane

Chapter 1 Nobody Ever Misses the Big City

Chapter 1: Nobody Ever Misses the Big City

“ANDY—ANDY, it’s time to get up. Your train leaves in an hour.”

Andy Chambers rolled over in bed and pulled the pillow over his head. “You can’t make me,” he said. “I live here, I pay rent, you can’t make me.”

Eli Engel, boy of his dreams, cosigner of his lease, welcome pain in his ass, smacked him on the backside.

“Andy, you have to. It’s your family. I’m just some schmuck that’s stolen you away for the last three years.”

Andy groaned and eyeballed the man he loved more than life. “I keep telling you they don’t think like that.”

Eli’s mouth—full and smiling most of the time—went crooked. “And yet they don’t visit either.”

“They think New York City is evil,” Andy muttered. “And Brooklyn’s the moon.” With ill-disguised reluctance, Andy swung his feet over the edge of the bed and straight into his moccasins while he reached for the sweatshirt he kept by the end table. Their apartment in trendy Williamsburg had great hardwood floors, but those floors got chilly in December. The whole apartment got chilly in December. Mostly, Andy and Eli fought the cold by wearing layers around the apartment and by fucking like monkeys. Even though he was launching straight into the shower from bed, Andy didn’t want to make the trip without an extra layer.

“Well, family is important,” Eli said. “You go visit your family for Christmas, and I’ll be here when you get back. Now shower. I’ll go make you breakfast.”

Andy watched his retreating back miserably. “Family is important,” he’d said. But Eli didn’t have any family. He’d been kicked out of his parents’ house for being gay and had spent months on the streets before being taken in by Rainbow House, a shelter down in Bedford/Stuyvesant. They’d helped him apply for college and get scholarships—he’d gone to NYU, gotten a degree in management, and turned right back around and started working at Rainbow House, doing everything from fundraising to organizing sports programs for the residents. Rainbow House was open to everybody, but it specialized in LGBTQ youth, and Eli was their biggest success story and most ardent advocate. He loved the employees there with all his heart, but when all was said and done, they all went home to their families for Christmas.

For the last three years, Andy had spent Christmas with Eli, celebrating with the residents of Rainbow House.

Having Eli tell him “Family is important, go visit yours,” was painfully generous—and Andy hated it.

But his mother had been absolutely incessant.

“Two phone calls a day, Andy,” Eli had told him at the beginning of December. “I mean, I get your family is super close, but two phone calls a day? Man, you’ve got to go visit them or they’ll never leave us alone. We’ll be answering their calls in the middle of sex into our sixties!”

Andy had snorted at that unlikely scenario, but he’d also softened.

“Our sixties?” he’d asked winsomely. “You promise?”

Eli had looked away, biting his lip. Andy had done his best to help his lover believe in forever, but Eli had a lot of damage to overcome. That was okay—Andy was up for the job.

“Just go,” he’d said, not looking Andy in the eyes. “Your job practically shuts down during those two weeks. Take the time off, go visit your parents, and come back to Brooklyn.”

Andy had sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. It was true that his job in a local tech firm really did shut down over Christmas, but that’s not what Eli was saying.

Andy knew because Eli had been saying it from the very beginning of their relationship.

Back Then

“OH! HEY! You dropped your umbrella!”

Andy was the kind of guy who bought trench coats with an umbrella pocket and then had an extra spot on his waterproof briefcase for a spare. But this guy, with curly dark hair falling into brown eyes and a bony jaw covered with stubble, looked like the kind of guy who went out in the rain frequently and then wondered why he caught cold. Andy had been watching the guy on the train for the last few weeks, feeling vaguely protective over him. Andy had been rooming in Park Slope then, with a group of new hires for his tech firm. They all commuted to Williamsburg, and Andy had seen this guy getting off in Bed/Stuy and had worried for him. He’d looked so earnest, so focused on being somewhere else. Andy, who had grown up in the country, had loved the city because it meant he had to be focused on the now .

“Oh,” said the sloe-eyed stranger. “Thank you.” He gave a shy smile. “Good luck, this.” He shook the umbrella Andy had handed him. “It looks like rain.”

“Well, stay dry,” Andy had replied awkwardly. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?”

For a moment he saw hope in the stranger’s eyes. Excitement.

“You’ll have better things to do tomorrow,” the stranger told him with a wink, and then his stop had come and he’d been gone. Andy had turned to Zinnia, one of his roommates, and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I’ve seen him on the train before. I think he thinks you’re cute.”

“I thought so too, but he seems absolutely certain I’ll have something else better to do.”

Zinnia snorted. “Prove him wrong!”

The next day, Andy had tucked three kinds of protein bars in his pocket—one with chocolate, one with nuts, and one that was a veganese delight. As the dark-eyed stranger stood to get ready for his stop, Andy held out the breakfast bars and said, “Here, breakfast on me.”

The stranger had gaped at him in surprise. “I, uhm—”

“I bet you skip it, right?” Andy said. “I mean, you look super focused on your job or whatever, but you should have breakfast.”

The subway hissed in preparation to stop, and Andy felt a little desperate.

“Please?” he said. “I’ll bring you one tomorrow too!”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” the stranger told him, his wide, full mouth quirking up in a smile.

“Then I’ll bring you one Saturday,” Andy said, pretty much past pride. This man’s brown eyes were fathomless, like the night sky full of stars.

“Okay,” the man said, taking the one with chocolate. “I’ll bring coffee.”

“Lots of cream and sugar,” Andy said, trying not to be embarrassed. Since he’d come to the city, it seemed like all New Yorkers took their coffee black.

The next day, Andy dressed casually, wearing his wool peacoat from his Vermont winters instead of his slick lined trench coat. But he still carried an umbrella—and a selection of protein bars—and took the same train as usual to Williamsburg.

This time when the doors opened three stops before Bed/Stuy, he saw the dark-eyed stranger get in, carrying two paper cups of coffee.

With a shy smile, the man came and sat down next to him, handed him the coffee, and accepted the breakfast bar in return.

“My name’s Eli,” he said, and Andy noted he’d tried to shave in the last twenty-four hours, but there were still patches of stubble like he’d forgotten a lot.

“I’m Andy.”

“So, Andy, where are we going today?”

Andy had grinned. “I just got a raise. I was hoping to find an apartment in Williamsburg. Want to come with me?”

Eli grinned. “Sure. I work for a nonprofit—it’ll be nice to dream.”

And Now

THEY’D EVENTUALLY found the perfect apartment, and by then, Andy wanted Eli to move into it with him. The only problem, he realized, was that to Eli, all of it—Andy, the job he loved, the safety of the home—all of it was a dream, and he still dreaded waking up to an awful reality of being alone every morning.

And now Andy was leaving him for Christmas.

Andy raced through his shower and getting dressed. His suitcase was already packed, including gifts that needed wrapping. He wanted as much time with Eli as possible before he took off for the train.

Eli was already dressed when Andy got out, and he’d scrambled eggs with some toast for breakfast. Andy looked at the plate waiting for him on the counter in the kitchen and wanted to cry.

He’d been the one who’d made Eli eat breakfast for three years. Eli never remembered to eat—had become too used to not eating when he’d lived on the street or been broke and going through school. Three years of Andy stuffing his pockets with breakfast bars or getting up early so breakfast was on the table, and now Andy was leaving him and Eli was the one sending him off with breakfast. It didn’t seem fair.

He’d even sliced some green onion and tomato to put on top.

“What?” Eli asked anxiously as Andy stared at the plate. “It’s not good?”

Andy forced himself to take a bite. “It’s delicious, babe. You’re getting better.”

Eli rolled his eyes. “You left enough food for an army.”

As if. “The refrigerator is too small for an army. And you’ll run out in a week, so, you know, don’t forget to eat.”

Eli shrugged. “Most of me will still be here if—when you get back.” He grimaced and clapped his hand over his mouth, but he’d said it, and Andy knew he’d meant it.

“ When . Oh my God, Eli . We’ve lived here for three years. What do you think is going to happen? I’m going to go visit my parents and forget I’m in love?”

“It’s Vermont over Christmas, Andy. You’ve seen the propaganda. You’ll go home, your parents will convince you the city was a bad dream, and I’ll be the first thing you forget.”

Andy gaped at him, suddenly angry. Three years? Three years and Eli didn’t trust him more than this? “You complete asshole,” he said, voice choked. “You think I could forget you? I’ll show you. I’ll come back in two weeks, and you’re gonna have to eat those words.”

Eli regarded him with deep skepticism. “You gonna cook them up like pizza?”

Damn him. Andy’s mouth quirked. “Yes, asshole. I’m going to cook up a giant pizza that says Eli, I Love You and make you eat the fucking pizza. Two weeks. Love to Mom, a few handshakes with Dad, some bonding with my siblings while I convince them to get the hell out of Vermont, and I’ll be home before you know it.” His whole demeanor softened. “And maybe then we can get a pet for the apartment?”

They’d put it off because Eli didn’t think it was fair to bring something into a situation that could change. Andy wasn’t sure how three years didn’t make a solid enough foundation to bring a pet into, but dammit, he wanted a cat!

Eli shifted. “Do you think we’re ready for pet ownership?”

“Yes, Eli! I work from home three days a week. Why can’t we get a cat?” He tried to remember his patience. “Baby, we live a good life. We live a great life. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, expand that life a little? A cat would be a good thing, don’t you think?”

Eli took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so insecure―”

Andy abandoned his eggs and moved to the other side of the table, breathing out, and rubbed Eli’s arms briskly with his cupped palms. “Maybe when I get back from this trip, you’ll see. Nothing’s going to break us apart, okay?”

Eli leaned forward and rested his cheek on Andy’s shoulder. He did that when he was feeling soft, and it always made Andy feel like king of the world. He wrapped his arms around the boy of his dreams and squeezed him tight.

“I’ve got to go,” he whispered. “I’ll call you every day. I promise.”

“I love you,” Eli offered, still taking comfort, and Andy took it as a win. Eli wasn’t demonstrative by nature—too many years of having nobody had left him wary of being affectionate, even in private. But an unsolicited “I love you,” from him was like gold.

Andy hugged him even tighter and then moved back enough to tilt his head up and take his mouth, softly at first, and then as he remembered this had to last through two weeks of his parents, his sisters, his damned hometown, he deepened the kiss, took more, pulled as much of Eli’s sweetness into his soul as he could to sustain him for the coldness of winter in Vermont. In these moments he felt like the power of his six-foot-plus, two-hundred-pound frame wasn’t wasted. His entire purpose was to keep Eli Engel— his angel—safe from all the harm the world had to offer.

Finally Eli pushed him away, reluctance written in every line of his body. “You need to leave,” he said. “You’re gonna miss your train, and then your mom’s going to make you go next year!”

Triumph! “You said next year!” Andy replied, his face lighting up. “I’m bringing you crow pizza when I come back—you just watch!”

And with that he had to run. Eli was right. Between the slow elevators of their building and the struggle to get a cab to get him to the station, he really might miss the train!

And he had to go now so Eli would know he’d be back.