Kit (A Little Christmas Season Three)

Chapter 15

15

Kit

I was the luckiest of all the boys in the world. I was the one who got to suck Santa’s cock.

Life was so good.

I woke in the morning to Parker rubbing his body against mine. When I opened my eyes, I saw his were closed. He had an arm around my waist but still seemed to be asleep. Or half-asleep.

“Mmm. Daddy, that feels nice.” I turned my backside against his front.

“Baby boy, you’re so warm and smooth in my arms.” His words slurred.

I didn’t feel his erection until I canted my hips all the way back against him. I moved my ass back and forth.

“Definitely on Santa’s naughty list,” he whispered.

“Unh.” I grunted.

His cock rubbed against my crack and up to my tailbone. It was hard and hot against my bare skin. My balls tightened. My own cock rubbed firmly against the sheet. Parker’s hand rubbed my abdomen, found my cock and began to milk it as he thrust against me again and again.

Utter bliss.

His fingers went from the base to the tip, teasing, squeezing. I moved my hips back and forth. His cock slid fast along my crack, teasing, thrusting.

I came into Parker’s hand, unable to hold back my cries. Warmth spread over my lower back. A palm rubbed the liquid into my skin.

Parker held me close afterward, panting into my hair. I turned and he kissed me. The kiss soared through me. I was wanted. I was cared for.

When we caught our breaths, Parker said, “All neat and tidy. Ready for the day.”

We had been tidy. The bed wasn’t wet. But when we got up, Parker stripped the bed and remade it, taking the dirty sheets downstairs to the laundry room.

I followed him around with my Christmas bear hugged to my chest. He kept smiling at me and tickling me under my chin.

“We go on the train tomorrow night, Daddy.”

“Yes, we do.”

“I’m excited. Are you?”

“Very excited. I love that you planned that.”

“Me, too.” I latched onto the back hem of his sweater, burying my face in his back. Holding on, I followed him into the kitchen and stayed near him as he fixed us a simple breakfast.

“We’ll go out for lunch today, okay?”

I nodded into his back.

He turned. I turned with him.

“What is it, baby boy?”

“I just want to be touching you right now, Daddy.”

It was weird. Since I came this morning in his hand, I couldn’t bear to be apart from him. We had even showered together.

But I needed something more. I wasn’t sure how to articulate it. I hugged my Christmas bear hard and buried my face in his sweater again.

Parker turned his upper body and reached back. He groped my side and stroked it as best as he could.

“You can touch me all you want, baby,” he said.

He did everything for the meal. I was helpless, adrift, still reeling from the sensation of his cock on—but not in—my ass. Still hazy from last night when he wore his Santa coat to bed.

Parker set out the plates and cups and food. But he didn’t set me a place. He said, “Kit baby, I think you need extra attention. You’re going to eat in Daddy’s lap this morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to feed you because I think you’re extra little right now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

Parker sat and helped lift me as I straddled his lap. He served us each a plate of eggs and bacon side by side. He had a regular glass of orange juice next to a pink and blue sippy cup.

“I’ve never seen that cup before, Daddy,” I said.

“I’ve been saving it for when you need it.”

“I love it, Daddy.”

He handed it to me. I had to set the bear down to take it in both hands. Apple juice. My favorite. I’d never had to tell him. Somehow, Parker knew.

“I love apple juice, Daddy.”

“Me, too.” He had a golden glass full for himself, as well as coffee.

He offered me sips from his coffee mug, but I didn’t get my own. Like he’d said correctly, I was too little.

Parker fed me eggs, bacon and buttered toast one bite at a time, using a napkin on me after each bite, then taking bites from his own plate.

“It’s good, Daddy. Thank you for breakfast.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it. I love everything about this place. And everything you do.” My voice was softer, more babyish. I leaned back against his chest, my head lolling on his shoulder.

He rubbed my tummy with the hand that held me, then fed me some more.

“I’m glad you love it here. Because I love having you.”

“You definitely have me, Daddy.” He chuckled, his chest rising and falling against my back.

“Good boys need to finish their food so they can get big and smart.”

After breakfast was eaten and cleared away, Parker set me down with Christmas coloring books and my sippy cup at the coffee table. But I didn’t feel like sitting. I got up and went to our Christmas tree, marching in front of it.

“Christmas is coming. Santa is coming,” I chanted.

Parker picked me up and sat me in his lap on the couch. He had a stack of storybooks by his side.

“I’m going to read to you and see if that calms you down a bit.”

I loved reading. I loved illustrated storybooks. These were little Christmas stories about animals in the forest and kids building snowmen.

As Parker read to me in his flawless, actor’s voice, I let the heat of his body and his caring surround me. I’d had daddies try to care before, but not like this. They wanted to be good daddies, but they weren’t patient. Not like Parker. No one was like Parker.

I shut my eyes against sudden tears. I was falling. Falling so hard. My old fears threatened me. What if I was accidentally bad again? What if he didn’t want me after the holidays when he and I got busier and both went back to big boy work? I didn’t want it to end.

I opened my eyes. The room and the book were all watery and smeary. Parker turned the page to a pretty scene where a boy and his father and their dog walked up a snowy lane towing a Christmas tree on a sled. In the background was a driveway leading to a lit-up house that looked almost like Parker’s with arched windows and balconies. There was a distant silhouette of Santa and his reindeer and the magic sleigh high up in the light purple sky. The picture made me feel all winded inside, like I’d been running for miles.

I turned my face to Parker’s neck, sniffling back my unexpected tears. What was wrong with me?

Parker shifted, his arm tightening about my waist. “What is it, baby boy?”

I spoke into his jaw. “Don’t know.”

“You seem especially sensitive today. Daddy didn’t do anything to upset you, did he?”

“Never.” I put my arm around his neck and held him.

“Can you try to explain?”

“I’m very happy.” I went slowly, trying to understand myself. “At the same time, I’m afraid, too.”

“Of what?”

“That you won’t want me after Christmas. When all this is over.”

He put the book aside. “Let’s talk about this, then, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to talk. I just want to be with you.” My voice was weirdly squeaky.

“I don’t want you to be afraid. I need to know your wants and needs so I can take care of you and be a proper daddy.”

“Reading the books is good, Daddy. It calms me. But I just maybe love it too much. Is that possible?”

“Maybe. And it makes you afraid because you don’t want to lose that feeling?”

“Yes. Like that.”

“You won’t, baby. I have no intention of letting you go now or after Christmas.”

I gulped. I loved hearing that. But who knew what the future really held?

As if reading my thoughts, Parker spoke. “Baby boy, we’re both still learning trust. It takes time to be sure of your position and place with someone you care about. Time to do more than hope for a happy ending. You have to live to get there. That means we have to keep trying. I love being with you. I have no intention of stopping unless you tell me to.”

I pointed at the book that lay open by Parker’s side. “The boy and the dog and the sled and the daddy leading them home gives me so many feelings. It all came bubbling up, Daddy. And look at the Santa in the sky. It’s so magical. But like a fairy tale. It’s not real.”

My eyes got very hot. I hid my face in his neck again.

Parker shifted me in his lap, leaned out and got my sippy cup.

“Here,” he said. “Take a nice long cool drink of juice.” He put it to my lips, tipping it forward.

I swallowed two sips.

“There. Good boy.” He set the cup down.

I snuggled tightly to him.

“I’m glad you need me so much, Kit. I love it. A needy boy. Believe me, you are just what I’ve been missing in my life. And between us, well, can’t we write our own fairy tale? And we can decide what we want, even take control.”

“You can take control, Daddy. You’re good at that.”

“Yes, but you are, too. Daddies take their cues from their boys so they can get things just right.”

“Really?”

“We’re collaborators on this journey, right?”

“I know it’s still so early. But I feel like you’ve been my daddy for a long time. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.”

“But can we really have our fairy tale, Daddy?”

“Why not? Who says we can’t?”

I lifted my head and looked around at the big living room we’d decorated. It sparkled like a fabled dream. We had done that. We made it happen. And outside in the snow, we had a snowman. And light up trees. Last night I’d sat in Santa’s lap, and he was mine. All mine.

Everything we’d done together in the last few days, added to all my fantasies before Parker had asked me out, had led me to thinking I wanted more than I could have. But Parker was right. Who said we couldn’t have these things? This feeling? Each other? We decided. We had control together.

I was falling in love, and it was precious and wonderful. And it hurt. It was almost too much for me.

Parker put a hand under my chin and forced me to face him. “This is our time, Kit. Ours to make what we want from it. We can make it last as long as we want. But we have to trust each other to get there. Trust the next day and the next to keep us holding on. Do you want that?”

“More than anything, Daddy.”

“Me, too. Do you believe it?”

“Yes. Right now, I believe you.”

“But you hesitated.”

“What if you change your mind?”

“How could I hold such a lovely boy like you in my lap and ever want anything else?” he said.

He leaned down and kissed me. I fell back onto the couch with Parker over me, kissing away all the emptiness and fear, kissing until I was filled up with a wonderland of generosity, empathy, caring, love.

This beautiful man wanted me. Me. The boy with the bad reputation. The boy who had lost his way, thinking he only deserved hard daddies who wanted to use him. Because that’s truly how the last year had been, and why I’d avoided coming to the club as often as I had in the past. I’d believed in my own press, in what others thought, and had lost all belief in myself.

I pushed up and into the kiss.