They trudged through the woods, travel mugs full of cocoa enclosed in their gloved hands. An early snow had fallen, lending the ground to glittery snowflakes, and Justin was laughing, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out and catch one. No need to be perfectly uncool, he thought, as Lance walked beside him. Families were sprinkled throughout the tree forest, cutting down evergreens and laughing, and Justin smiled because it was the way things were supposed to be. He stole a glance at Lance, so strong beside him. In the two weeks that had elapsed, he’d never felt more sure and unsure at once -- sure because there was no doubt that they were finally together -- unsure because it had been a rough time. Two weeks of long talks, and tears, of holding him while he talked endlessly -- or sometimes not at all. Two weeks of curling beside him in bed, stroking his back comfortingly while he fell asleep. Two weeks of watching him to make sure he didn’t fall back into old patterns. Venturing into romance was not in his agenda, yet, and he’d fended Lance off a number of times. With green eyes that sometimes watered pitifully, or sometimes glared in anger, Justin quickly learned that Lance used sex as a defensive weapon. So Justin adjusted to masturbating in the shower, alone, to alleviate the tension, and learned to calm Lance’s inner beast with a patient hand. Sometimes he would sit quietly and wait for Lance to stop yelling -- and sometimes he would sing a song to break the conflict in two. There were times his heart broke, and kisses Lance pushed on him that he *wanted* to accept. But he knew it would be wrong to take under such conditions. It always worked. Lance always ended up smiling and curling beside Justin, laying his head in Justin’s lap and taking deep breaths to regain himself. “Is this really necessary?” JC called out from behind them, and Lance pause to turn with a laugh. “You complaining?” he shouted. “I am!” JC had stopped moving, and was standing with his mug of coffee beside Chris, who was quietly lost in his own thought. “I’m freezing my ass off and you’re still no closer to a tree than you were an hour ago!” “What a baby!” Justin chuckled, nudging Lance. “What say we dump these guys and do our own thing?” Lance blushed, or maybe it was just the chilly wind that whipped causing the glow across his cheeks and the redness at his nose. Whatever it was, Justin saw hope there, a shine that hadn’t been. The therapist warned of a grieving period, and Justin witnessed it day after day. Tears and rage that seemed to come and go like the minutes of time. Resentment that was often misdirected at him, but they were only words, and inside he saw Lance’s pain. The pure white hot of anguish that had been buried for nearly ten months. Justin shook the ill thoughts from his head and grabbed Lance’s arm, guiding him past children twirling in the gentle snowstorm, and ducked behind a tree. His blue eyes sparkled with Christmas joy and he sipped his cocoa. “I think we lost them,” he said breathlessly. And Lance watched the cold air curl into the air, the way Justin’s hat dangled precariously close to his eyes -- the boy behind the man. His rock really. “It was mature of you to ask Chris to come,” Lance whispered, aching to kiss Justin right there. “Oh after his whole drunken-passed out-made a fool of himself thing?” Justin rolled his eyes and hopped from foot to foot to keep warm. “Jesus, Lance. It was a mistake. We all make them. Some bigger than others. I can deal with it ... now.” “Now?” Lance asked timidly. These feelings were so new, so fresh. It was shyness where once he was brash. His sexuality had taken a dive, and he had a hard time hiding his attraction to Justin, and his needs. The intimacy was the toughest emotion to deal with, the closeness with which he’d grown to Justin. His bed was no longer used, the sheets long since stripped. It was symbolic, nearly, to have that barren mattress lying dormant in his room, a reminder of what he was. Where he could have been had Justin not had endurance to break the walls down. “Now,” Justin whispered, pressing closer. He kissed the tip of Lance’s nose before brushing his lips against Lance’s. “Now you’re here and not there. Now we fight together. A team.” “A team,” Lance murmured, his body already anxiously responding to Justin’s. He wasn’t used to taking things slow, being denied physical love. He squirmed a bit as Justin pressed against him, and looked away. “What?” Justin wanted to know, backing up a bit. “You okay?” Always full of worry for Lance, for what he was undergoing, he was selfless in giving space. Lance wasn’t sure what to say, how to say that he desired Justin. How to say that he loved him so completely, he needed to show it. Deep down, Lance was fearful he would lose it all if he didn’t. “Nothing,” he lied, sipping his cocoa. “Just you.” “There you guys are! Christ! Find a fucking tree will ya?” JC’s voice caused them to jump apart, words unfinished. Feelings uncharted. Chris kicked at one and smiled. “How’s this one?” They turned to look and there it was. The snowflakes glistening on it’s branches. Full of life, and when Justin moved closer to inspect it, a birds nest nestled in deep. “It’s good luck,” he grinned, remembering what his grandmother had told him once. “It’s *very* good luck.” Lance smiled brightly. It looked as if good luck was finally winning out -- just one night before Christmas Eve. ******************* “I bought you something,” Lance said, sitting at the base of the decorated tree. Multi-colored lights adorned it, twinkling brightly as they sipped wine and listened to classical holiday music float throughout the condo. “You didn’t have to,” Justin said. “Get me anything.” In his mind, he’d already been given everything he ever wanted. A chance to have Lance. But his heart was soaring, his mind buzzing. It wasn’t from the wine, he told himself as he stared into Lance’s jeweled eyes. It was Lance -- it was the way he looked at him, the way the cream colored v-neck sweater hugged Lance’s body and the way his bare feet wiggled from under his jeans. It was the way Lance stared at him like he was a miracle worker, like he’d been saved from destruction. It was everything and more. Justin put his glass down and smiled, resisting the urge to forgo the exchange of gifts and beg Lance to make love to him. The therapist had warned against it, but it was a struggle. He longed to let Lance have him, to become one person with the most intimate act he knew of. But for Lance he remained solid, holding out until the time was right. As Lance climbed to all fours and picked through the mountain of gifts, Justin tucked his chin into his palm and felt waves of excitement bubble inside him. Like a kid on Christmas, he thought to himself. How ironic. Watching Lance was something he now enjoyed to do. Where once it dug at his soul, and make his heart sour with what should have been, it now pleased him to know that when the lights went down, Lance would be curled in his arms. “I did, Justin because you saved me.”  He pressed the package into Justin’s hands. “It’s not expensive, but ... I don’t know.” He was at a loss for words, concerned because maybe it was stupid. Maybe it wouldn’t mean as much to Justin as it did to him. Maybe Justin would laugh. He knew it was foolish, the insecure Lance lashing out with uncertainty. But he had tread on such thin ice for so long. It was hard to break old habits. Overwhelmed, Justin unwrapped it carefully, his eyes shining with faith. He poked inside and withdrew a frame. An old picture of them at the studio nearly a year ago faced him. His throat constricted with emotion and he ran his fingers over it. “Lance I ..” “Turn it over,” Lance said, tapping the frame gently. Justin did and bit his lip. A photo from their Christmas tree outing taken by JC. A candid. A simple engraving scratched along the bottom of the frame. “Friendship” They both knew it was more, it was a love that transcended time and space, hurt and pain. But it was so simple, and the meaning was powerful. And friendship was where it had all started. “I love you,” Justin blurted, dropping the frame to his lap before reaching over to hug Lance. Lance tensed as Justin’s arms folded around him. Tensed from the intimate position of their bodies. The closeness that surpassed anything he’d felt before. It scared him, make him shake. To let it all go was supposed to take time, his therapist said, but his body was achy, and needy. He wanted to be kissed and held, explored sweetly as he knew Justin would do. So he pressed his lips against Justin’s and relaxed into the feel, cherished the way his mouth felt. Lance etched it all into his memory. Justin tasted like soda and peppermint, and when Lance dared to press his tongue against Justin’s, he almost feared being rejected. It was sensual, and when Justin leaned closer, Lance choked on emotion. Because Justin wasn’t pushing him away, or taking him only because he wanted to fuck. “I want to make love to you,” he whimpered into Justin's mouth. “So badly, Justin.” Justin stopped to take a pause of breath, because the words sounded so right. He didn’t want to think what could go wrong.  So he let Lance pull him to his feet and lead him down the hall to his bedroom. He watched with wide eyes as Lance lit some candles around the room and smiled at him. His body was crashing, right down to a place he didn’t even realize existed. He only wanted to show love, to be loved. To have Lance inside him to express affection for real. “If you don’t want to,” Lance said, kissing the insides of Justin’s wrists. “I’ll never push. Never.” He blinked up into dark blue eyes and asked with his expression. He begged for permission, for access  to enter into a new phase. Because he cherished Justin with everything he had. “I want to,” Justin whispered, and he chewed on his lip. “I love you. I want to.” The words were slow, thick tumbling from his mouth, and when Lance began to tug his shirt up, he shivered. Eagerness. Expectation. Months of watching Lance do a meaningless dance with men who didn’t deserve or understand. It was all in the past, and when Lance laid him down on the bed, he was ready. Ready to leave the past alone and head into the future. “I love you, Justin,” Lance said, tossing his own clothes aside. “Love you so much.” Each word was punctuated with a light kiss across Justin’s stomach, and Justin thought maybe he would just fall into the depths of pure bliss before they got a chance to explore each other. Lance was amazed at how languidly he was able to move over Justin’s long body, savoring each dip of his skin with a lick or a nibble. He was careful to step in graceful motions, to express his love. To let Justin know this was completely new for him. A special experience that couldn’t be duplicated. He watched Justin’s stomach tense with each stroke, with each brush of his hand. A breath caught in his throat as he kissed the inside of Justin’s thighs, positioning himself between his legs. It was different. Every sensation he had was full of adoration, and trust. Full of this new and wonderful passion he had for the man under him. In one slow motion, he took Justin into his mouth, and was met with a surprised moan, a whimpery flutter of words that made his belly burn with desire. He ached to show Justin how special he was. And Justin tasted sweet, so unlike anyone he’d ever been with. The tang of fate bursting its way into his soul. It was two bodies dancing in the throes of love mingled with lust. A mutual affirmation of a newborn relationship. A forever thing. It was melodic and beautiful as their bodies moved together as one -- heartbeats finding a shared rhythm. It was soothing kisses to sweat stained hair, and slick skin sliding gracefully into each other. A waltz of love. “Merry Christmas,” Justin whispered, licking Lance’s ear, clutching his shoulders as their bodies rocked. “Merry Christmas,” Lance grinned, swiping the sweat from his upper lip with his tongue. There was no place for any more words as they stared into each other’s eyes -- windows to souls they’d gotten to know once more. Curling with each other with utter love and satisfaction. The road ahead less rocky than the one they’d left. A turn into safe love -- and healthy beings. The End! menu