Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
He could make dinner but all he could think of when he pictured a tree and lights and decorations was what if Jack didn’t want Simon doing that in his home. So that put an end to the decorations.
“What should I do?” he asked his grandma over dinner. “I don’t know what to get him, I can’t surprise him with a whole house of decorations because it’s his house, and I don’t even know if he’d want to cut down a tree? No, he’d never kill a tree just for decoration. Ugh.”
Jean smiled at him knowingly.
“Surprises are lovely, dear. But when you surprise someone you do all the work by yourself for the enjoyment of the one moment when they see what you did. When you plan something together, you get to enjoy the whole thing with them.”
And hell if that wasn’t the wisest and most sensible goddamn thing that Simon had ever heard.
He was all set to broach the topic with Jack the next day, when Jack said, casual as can be, as he fed the animals, “Do you wanna have Christmas with me?”
Simon glared.
It was so damn easy for Jack. After Simon’s days of thinking and worrying and scheming, Jack had just tossed the question out like it was nothing.
“Whoa. Uh. So maybe...you don’t want to?”
“Goddamn it,” Simon grumbled. He shoved Jack’s shoulders then hugged him tight. “Yes, please.”
Jack rubbed soothing strokes up and down his spine.
“Also your brother is coming for Christmas Eve.”
“He is?” Jack put distance between them so he could see Simon’s face. “You...did you contact Charlie?”
He beamed and Simon nodded miserably.
“I was going to try and plan a whole thing, but I got...” He shook his head and buried his face in Jack’s shoulder. “We could plan it together?”
“What’s that, darlin’?”
“Maybe it’s better if we plan together?”
Jack’s smile and soft eyes made it all worth sacrificing the element of surprise. In fact, as he bundled up against the cold and followed Jack out into the snow, he wasn’t sure why he’d ever thought a surprise was the way to go.
Jack was talking animatedly about Christmas trees when they got into his truck—local pines and root balls and ground thaw temperature and replant viability—and when they arrived at a tree farm twenty minutes away, Jack didn’t even hesitate, just grabbed Simon’s hand and pulled him into the fray.
Simon appreciated every accommodation Jack had made for him. Every questioning look to see if he needed to go home, every firm hug that soothed his nervous system, every massage that calmed his twitching muscles.
But this moment when Jack was so excited to do something with Simon that he didn’t even think about making accommodations shifted something between them.
Jack wanted him. Wanted Simon with him, no matter what.
They made their way through a maze of trees with their trunks wrapped in burlap and perched in buckets.
“What’s up with that?” Simon asked, pointing.
“That’s to protect the root ball. I was just talking about this for like ten minutes.”
“Sorry,” Simon said, sheepish.
“I was saying that we can replant it when the ground thaws. I can’t believe people cut down whole trees just to throw them away.”
Simon squeezed his hand. He’d been right about that, anyway.
Jack continued on about deforestation and climate change as they walked. His copper hair gleamed where it stuck out of his maroon beanie and his shoulders looked impossibly broad in his heavy navy coat.
Simon couldn’t believe that he was picking out a Christmas tree with this man. That he got to touch him, kiss him, wake up with him. His mind buzzed with dizzy joy but when Jack looked at him he couldn’t remember one iota of what Jack had been saying. And he didn’t really care.
He tugged Jack behind one of the larger trees in the corner of the lot and pulled him into a kiss.
“I like being shut up that way,” Jack said.
Simon swallowed, then leaned to whisper in Jack’s ear.
“I want to suck your cock.”
Jack froze, then groaned and dragged Simon tight against him like he was about to fall.
“Fuuuuck, I can’t believe you just said that. At a Christmas tree farm,” he added, clearly scandalized.
Simon could hardly believe it himself but now that he had, all he could think about was dropping to his knees in a forest of pine trees and taking Jack in his mouth. The thought of Jack’s big hands on his face and in his hair, of Jack in full winter gear with his cock out, of Jack coming down his throat while the cold air caressed him, made him shiver with want.
Jack cupped his cheek, eyes fixed on his mouth. He pressed his thumb to Simon’s lips and Simon felt his mouth give just enough to let Jack inside.
“Fuck,” Jack muttered.
Jack had a tree in the truck so fast Simon wasn’t even sure he’d paid for it.