Don't Miss You At All
As I sit and watch the snow falling down
I don't miss you at all.
I hear children playing, laughing so loud.
I don't think of your smile.
So if you never come to me,
you'll stay a distant memory.
Out my window I see lights going dark,
your dark eyes don't haunt me.
And then I wonder who I am
without the warm touch of your hand.
- Norah Jones, "Don't Miss You at All"
I've never spent Christmas alone before. Up until I turned twenty, my parents were close enough that I could go visit them for the holidays. Then I was in Pittsburgh, living with Andy. The next year was in Wilkes-Barre with Toby and Brooks. And last Christmas was spent with just Toby. But now Andy is playing in the Czech Republic. Brooks is living in Boston, taking the season off, unless the lockout ends. And Toby is in Edmonton. I'd go home, but I've got a game the day after Christmas, so it would be pointless to fly across the continent for one day.
And so I'm here in Wilkes-Barre, spending my Christmas in a house that's far too big, far too empty, and far too sparse on decorations. In Pittsburgh, Andy and I made our small house look more than festive enough. With Toby and Brooks, we decided to see just how many lights we could put up, so that we could have the brightest, most offensive house in the neighborhood. Last year Toby and I were more restrained, keeping it down to a few strings of white icicle lights outside, a big Christmas tree, and some white lights going up the rails of the staircase. But now, I've got a tabletop Christmas tree and one sprig of mistletoe hung in the archway between the hall and living room. Wishful thinking, I suppose.
This season has been all about adjustments. Mostly adjusting to the fact that Toby's no longer here. After spending all but four games of my professional career in the same organization, he's playing for a team that I won't even see all year, unless we meet in the Calder Cup Finals. I could call, but we haven't talked since he left. We agreed to let things go as they were, to just be thankful for what we had and to move on. Which was great in theory.
Only I haven't moved on.
Instead I'm sitting here on Christmas Eve, staring out the window, missing him like crazy. Mother Nature decorated far more than I did. She dumped a healthy snow on eastern Pennsylvania earlier in the week, blanketing Wilkes-Barre in white for the holiday. The neighbors have lights up, some colored, some blinking, some just simple, non-flickering white. Better than me, with a few ornaments hung on a foot tall tree on the coffee table. It doesn't even have a star on top, let alone any lights.
Last Christmas it was infinitely more fun to decorate our Christmas tree.
December 2003
"Fucking lights, remind me to store them better so they don't tangle by next year," Kris said, sitting on the couch, a lapful of lights in a heap on his lap.
Toby grinned, shaking his head, glancing back at Kris. "I told you to save the packaging for them. But nooo, Kris knows best." Finished with his mocking--at least for the moment--he turned back to the tree, hanging a small ornament he'd brought from Minnesota. He'd taken over decoration of the tree while Kris tried to untangle the lights. Kris had protested, but Toby knew how to work him. It took one good, rough kiss to shut him up and banish him to the couch.
An hour later, and the lights were finally sorted out and hung on the tree. The only thing left was the star for the top. Toby, having hung almost all of the ornaments, was holding the finishing touch. After only two attempts, he realized a problem.
"Dammit," he said reluctantly, handing the star to Kris, "I'm too short."
Kris grinned, his eyes glinting wickedly and took the ornament. "Poor little Toby..." he said, standing behind the shorter man, reaching over him to attach the star to the top of the tree. Once it was up there, he slipped his arms around Toby. Toby flipped the switch. The tree came alive, the lights reflecting off of the ornaments, the star at the top glowing brightly. Kris nuzzled Toby's neck, and both sighed happily. Merry Christmas indeed.
I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. I should put on some Christmas music or something. Anything to make this house seem less empty. I turn on the radio, flip it to a station that's been playing holiday music since Thanksgiving weekend. After a few minutes, listening to the songs, I realize it isn't helping any. It's only serving to make me lonelier. To make me even more depressed to be spending Christmas Eve alone.
This house is too empty. Too full of memories of years past. I need to get out, so I pull on my coat, grab some gloves, and close the door behind me. The neighborhood is still bright, the lights reflecting off of the snow. Its festive and beautiful, and its hell trying to keep the bitterness from welling up inside me. A year ago this was perfect. A year ago I would've been basking in the glow of the season, remarking to Toby how gorgeous everything looked.
"It's such a perfect night," Kris commented, walking alongside Toby. The snow crunched under their feet. Snowflakes flecked Toby's dark hair, dotting his eyelashes. Kris could barely stand to look away from him.
Toby grinned, looking around him. "I guess no one felt the need to over decorate this year, since we didn't challenge them. The neighborhood looks great."
Kris sighed softly, unable to keep the smile from his face. It was the perfect Christmas Eve, spent with the one person in the world he wanted to be with on such a night. Last year he'd had to sneak kisses whenever Brooks was looking away or in the other room. This time he could kiss Toby whenever he wanted. Speaking of...
Toby gasped softly when Kris pulled him close. The kiss was a quick, firm one, but it still made the world tilt on its axis for a moment. Kris' arms tightened around Toby, their cold noses touching, until Kris giggled. "Always wanted to kiss in the snow with Christmas lights all around."
Toby laughed, shaking his head, "Yeah, except that any one of the people in these houses could see us out here..."
Kris grinned and dipped his head again, murmuring against Toby's lips, "So let's give them a good show for Christmas..."
I smile faintly to myself, walking down the street. The same lights are up, the same snow on the ground; the same Christmas songs are stuck in my head. But this time there's no one to share that with. This year it's just me with all of those things, plus a ton of memories that won't stop replaying in my mind. Toby waking me up on Christmas morning, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed, as excited as a kid half his age. Catching Toby under the mistletoe at Andy's Christmas party back in Pittsburgh three years ago. Snuggling up with Toby in front of the fire, telling stories about our favorite gifts.
He's all I really want for Christmas this year. I don't need gifts or decorations or a big dinner. I just need him. None of this means anything if you've got no one to share it with. But it's useless to think like this. He's probably in Edmonton, kissing someone else under the mistletoe, snuggling with him under the fire. Having a snowball battle with him. I'm jealous and I don't even know if such a guy exists.
"You are so dead, pretty boy!" Toby shrieked, squirming from the snow Kris had just dumped down his back.
"Pretty boy? You're talking to yourself now?" Kris mocked, packing another snowball. "You've got no room to talk in the pretty department, Tobias."
Toby glared and picked up a handful of snow, "You know I hate my full name, Kristopher. I'm so going to kick your ass." He packed a tight snowball, hurling it at Kris, catching him on the thigh before the taller man had time to jump out of the way.
"This is war, Tobias..." Kris taunted, running after him, tossing the snowball at his back. He snickered when it got Toby square between the shoulder blades. "Better stop while you're ahead, Petersen, I've got better aim than you."
"That so?" Toby asked, smirking, and took a run at him. He tackled him to the ground, straddling his waist, wiping a handful of snow over Beech's face.
Kris sputtered and grabbed at Toby's hands, "Hey! That's cheating, you bastard!"
The smaller man wiggled his hips, laughing, "Wimp. You're just pissed off that I thought of it first. And that I'm going to shove snow down your pants." He pulled one arm free, grabbing a big handful of snow, grinning evilly.
Kris eyes widened, "You wouldn't..."
"Try me."
With no other options to stop him, and since it was a perfect excuse to do it, Kris pulled Toby down against him, kissing him roughly, deeply, until the grin had slipped from his lips and he'd dropped the snow. Still kissing him, Kris rolled the other man onto his back, letting the kiss turn hotter, more passionate, until Toby whimpered.
"Fuck, Kris...cold...." he shivered, his hands clenching in Beech's coat.
Kris smiled and kissed the tip of his nose, then pulled him to his feet. "So let's go inside and get you warmed up."
I'm not sure how long I've been walking, but by the time I'm nearing my house again, most of the lights in the neighborhood have been turned off, leaving only the streetlights to guide me. My ears are numb, my nose cold, and my hands hurting from the frigid wind, although now they're shoved deep in my pockets.
I unlock the door and stomp the snow from my boots, barely even looking up from the ground as I take them and my coat off. It's late enough now that I can justify going to sleep. What an exciting Christmas Eve.
"I'm disappointed. I thought I'd find you buried under a tangle of Christmas lights."
My eyes widen as I hear his voice behind me. I turn slowly, so as to not jar myself awake in case this really is just a dream. If he's a figment of my imagination, I don't want to face reality. But when I look, he's standing there. He's wearing a turtleneck, dark slacks, and his glasses. He looks amazing. "Sorry, Tobias, you won't get to mock me for my inability to store them this year."
His smile turns into a grin, "Well damn, you're just lazy when I'm not here."
I step closer to him, biting the inside of my lip, "So why are you here, by the way?"
Teasingly he scoffs, pretending to be miffed, "Oh, so you aren't happy to see me? I see how it is. You didn't even miss me." He turns on his heel, heading for the door, but I stop him, slipping my hand into his, spinning him around.
"I am ecstatic to see you," I murmur, pulling him close, kissing him deeply, desperately. His arms slip around my neck as I hug him close, sliding my tongue over his lower lip, inside his mouth, rubbing it over his tongue. He's my every wish for this Christmas, and now he's here in my arms, and I don't plan to let him go until I have to.
He moans softly and pulls back a bit, clutching his hands in my shirt, "Mmm, okay, maybe you did miss me..."
I laugh and kiss him softly again, smiling a bit stupidly, "Just a little bit. Not much."
"So why didn't you decorate?" he asks, brushing a hand through my hair, walking us backwards to the living room.
I shrug a shoulder weakly, "Couldn't bring myself to do it. I kept thinking about you and I'd just get lonely and depressed and I lost the motivation to get it done."
He grins as we pass under the archway from the hall, pointing up, "Oh, but you got the mistletoe up, I see. Had someone in mind?"
I nod, smiling, "And he's in my arms now, so I'd say it worked out."
He smirks and shakes his head, leading me back towards the couch, "And I see you're the same dork I left back in the summer. How'd you survive without someone to sap to death?"
I grin wickedly and shove him down on the sofa, "Maybe I've got someone."
"That so?" he counters, tugging my shirt up, "Then where is he?" I blush as he tosses my sweater behind the couch, trying to come up with an explanation, unable to think of anything fast enough. "Awww," he teases, pinching my cheeks, "Kristopher was pining for me."
I smirk and slip my still cold hands under his shirt, brushing over his stomach, "Yeah, but who flew across the continent?"
That shuts him up, save for a protest when I let my ice-cold fingers trace along his skin. I tug his shirt up, warming my palms on his chest, garnering a shiver from him, his nipples hardening under my touch. He arches his hips up against mine, and I can feel him--he's already hard, his cock pressing up against mine. It's been so long, I want to be inside him already, I want him so fucking bad I can barely think straight. But we don't get this much. I should savor it. I should take my time...
"Would you fucking hurry up?" he whispers hoarsely, shoving my pants down, grabbing my ass. So much for patience.
I tug his belt unbuckled, leaving it in the loops of his jeans while I tug them unbuttoned and unzip them. I ease them quickly down his hips, which he lifts to help me, but only after pulling a bottle of lube from his pocket. As soon as his pants his boxers are gone, he latches his legs around my waist, rubbing his cock against my abdomen, making me moan his name.
He leans up and licks along my earlobe, his voice breathless and rough, "Want you so much, Kris," he whispers, opening the lube, pouring some directly onto the head of my cock. I hiss from the cold, but it's soon replaced with heat, his hand warm and soft as it strokes the lube over my shaft. "I've wanted you since I left...never stopped." He pulls his fingers back, kissing me deeply, nuzzling my nose, and whispers, "I had to come and see you."
I smile faintly and entwine my fingers with his, pressing the head of my dick gently against his opening, my voice shaky with need, "Missed you, Toby." With that I flex my hips forward, gasping faintly as the head presses into him. As I rock slowly deeper, his muscles clench around me, reminding me of how good we are together. How utterly perfect it feels to be inside him. As I reach the hilt, I catch his eyes, dark with passion.
"Merry Christmas," he whispers faintly, arching into me, squeezing my hands tight. I smile and bury my face against his neck, wiggling slowly, letting him get used to me. It's been so long, I want to make sure he enjoys every moment. When he finally starts pushing back against me, rolling his hips, I start to move. I thrust deep, slowly, whimpering faintly with each movement.
"Love this," I murmur against his neck, my hips rocking at a gentle pace, rubbing my hands down his sides, squeezing at his thighs, thrusting deep, staying there for a moment, gasping softly when he clenches harder around me. He scratches lightly down my back, just enough to sting, enough to make me move faster, thrust deeper. I speed our rhythm, my breath hitching, my back arching.
Its so good, so fucking perfect, I can't bear to slow down. He moves at the same pace, wiggling his hips, pushing them up against me to meet my thrusts. I know I can't last, I can already feel my orgasm building. Judging by his gasps for breath, his clenching around me, his begging for me to touch him, Toby isn't going to last long either. I curl my fingers around his cock, throbbing hard and deep red, so close I know it'll only take a few strokes for him to come.
I thrust steadily, to the hilt each time, shifting the angle until he writhes, arching his back, and I know I've got it right. I stroke him quickly, my hand tight around his shaft, the pad of my thumb rubbing circles over the head of his cock. He starts gasping, his body arching up against mine, and I know he's close. It's been months, but I remember the signs. I thrust harder for a moment, hitting the right spot, and he cries my name out as he comes, the clenching around my cock growing harder, tighter, until I can't hold back. I follow him over the edge, shooting deep inside him, my body slumping lethargically against his when the shuddering stops.
His arms slip tight around me, his body trembling under mine, and he whispers my name faintly against my ear. Nothing more than my name, I'm not sure he can say much else. God knows I wouldn't be able to comprehend it, not after the orgasm I'd just had. I'd forgotten just how powerful sex was with him. He seems to sense this, and we lay like that, my cock still inside him, my body slumped against his, his arms tight around me, for a long time before he speaks.
"I couldn't bear Christmas without you," he murmurs. "I know we said we were just saying goodbye and letting this end...I just couldn't stick with that, not this time of year."
I smile against his neck, nuzzling it, kissing the skin softly. "I spent most of tonight going over memories from the last few years. I was going insane without you."
He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch over us, and I snuggle tighter against him. "I'm so glad I came," he whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple.
"Best Christmas present ever," I reply, sighing contentedly.
Kris sighed softly, snuggling up to Toby's side in bed. Toby's eyes were focused on the clock, and as the digits turned from 11:59 to 12:00, his lips curled into a grin and he pulled Kris closer. "Merry Christmas, Kristopher," he whispered, kissing his cheek.
Kris smiled a bit wickedly, nuzzling his neck, and despite knowing it would drive him crazy, replied, "Merry Christmas to you too, Tobias."
And Toby didn't even get mad.
Who said Christmas miracles didn't happen?
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