Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real people are entirely coincidental.
Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references
Copyright, 2010, Quonus10
I hope you enjoy it. Please comment to: belsport09@gmail.com
This story will continue to be posted on Nifty. It is COMPLETED, however, and can be found also at http://www.gayauthors.org/story/quonus10/secondshot
- Chapter 10: Christmas is a Time to . . . .
Christmas Eve the whole Henry family was in attendance; his grandparents, aunt and uncle and their two families. His uncle's daughters, Meredith and Michele, brought their boyfriends along; chumps as Dean called them. Aunt Karen had three children, none over 12. Her son, who was the oldest, tried to shadow him and Dean everywhere. Jason was better at tolerating Keith following them, having let Dean do it for years.
When his dad mentioned Jason was named co-captain of his soccer team, his grandparents' faces lit up. Raymond Henry, having played football for Graydon fifty plus years ago, thought sports were the single best way to teach leadership in young men. That his grandson was named captain for his junior and senior year made him beam with pride.
The rest of the evening Jason spent dodging questions from everyone about who he was dating, what were the girls like at school, was there someone special he had his eye on - this from his grandmother.
His older cousins, particularly Meredith, pressed the hardest for details about is love-life. When she received no good answers, Meredith all but insinuated she suspected he must be gay.
"You're too good looking to be single cousin," she said to the approval of her sister. "What's going on?"
Jason decided he had to give them something or else they would keep pressing him. "Right now I'm laying low. Being stalked makes it hard to have a new girlfriend."
"Stalked?" Meredith's excitement was mirrored in the faces of her sister and their boyfriends. "Spill it Jason."
"It's not that exciting." He regretted this already. Now he had to tamp down their expectations. "Friend of mine wanted us to be more than friends. I'm not interested in more. She'd been hounding me all semester. I tried to date someone, but she kept coming around, saying stuff that didn't sit well with my potential girlfriend. After enough episodes, I got the `you're nice, but it's not working for me' speech. Figured I needed to squelch the stalker before I try again."
"Did you?" Meredith asked. In her first year of med school, Meredith was the oldest cousin. Michele was a year older than Jason.
"Did I what?" Trying to think what he would say next, Jason lost track of the conversation.
"Dissuade her of the notion you two would ever be more than friends?" His cousin replied.
"Yeah, I think so." Jason figured he should stick to as close to the truth as possible. "We had it out over Thanksgiving weekend. Since then things have improved significantly."
"Lucky you," Meredith's boyfriend Stephen said. "Could've been a lot worse."
"True." Jason tried to sound relieved. In a sense he was relieved that Wendy, the inspiration for his fictitious stalker, stopped trying to get him to ask her out. "When I get back to school I can see what happens."
"Are you going to ask the same girl out again?" Meredith was already losing interest.
"No, I think I'm over that anyway," Jason laughed. He hoped they didn't ask what she looked like. Unlike the `stalker' he had no idea who to describe as his pretend love interest.
After that brief foray into Jason's love-life, the discussion turned to school and sports. Jason didn't really care about Meredith's first year of med school, but feigning interest allowed him to shift the focus away from him. Michele appeared miffed her sister monopolized the conversation, but before she could storm off, Jason starting asking about her plans after school.
Michele was by far his favorite cousin. Not only was she closest in age, she also shared his passion for soccer; playing midfield for Carnegie Mellon. Trying to keep the conversation off himself, he asked about her plans to get her MBA.
"I'm visiting different schools to see which ones I like before I apply," she told him. By now everyone else had wondered off, including her boyfriend Warren.
"Where are you thinking of applying?" He asked.
"Penn, Columbia, University of Chicago, and Northwestern," she ticked off her choices, seeming to be looking for something from him.
Jason was impressed by her choices. He assumed she was a good candidate for those schools because she didn't mention any lesser options.
"Do you have a preference?" He thought he knew which one she would pick.
Michele appeared miffed by the question. Pausing to think, she quickly said, "Columbia, then Chicago, Northwestern and then Penn."
Dead wrong. He felt sure she would have picked Penn first. That is where her father went so he assumed she would follow him there.
"Nice." Jason didn't ask why not Penn first. "Good luck."
"So what's really going on with you?" She asked.
Jason cocked his head and gave her a confused stare. "What do you mean?"
"Jase we've always hung out at family outings." Her stare practically bore a whole in his skull. "You never were a good liar."
"Yeah, I know." He left unsaid, `that's why I kept my story as close to the truth as I could.'
"There was no stalker was there?" She moved closer.
"Sadly, there was." That part was true, it was what the `other girl' part that he made up. "We all went to Philly after Thanksgiving. After she stuck to me like glue, I blew up at her in an antique shop. Darryl had to take her away from me I was so angry."
Michele stared at him. He met her gaze head on, unafraid because he was being honest.
"Something is off," she told him. "I don't know what it is, but you're hiding something."
"Michele, let it go please." Jason searched for a good reason to leave.
"So there is something," she whispered.
"There's nothing going on I want to talk about." Jason knew his mood turned sullen.
"Jase, you know you can trust me." Michele kept checking to see if anyone was around. "When you were smoking pot at Grandma's cabin, I never told anyone."
"You joined me," he snorted. "How could you rat me out without being nailed yourself?"
"Do I really need to go through the secrets I kept for you?" She gave him a look that dared him to test her.
"No, but this is different." Now he was looking for any reason to leave. "Really, I don't want to talk about it."
She didn't say anything for almost thirty-seconds. "If it helps, I think I know and I won't say anything to Meredith or anyone else."
Michele stood up, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Jason watched her join her sister and their dates before he grabbed his coat and snuck out the backdoor. Walking past his car, he realized he was parked in by his extended family.
Not that it mattered; he couldn't really drive off without annoying his mother. Where would he go anyway? Back to Graydon?
His dress shoes slapped loudly on the pavement as he walked toward the creek at the end of his street. Half the houses had a party going on, the other half were dark. Stopping in front of Darryl's house, he realized how much he wanted to tell his best friend about Peter. There were days he was so happy he almost came out, but the thought of what would happen scared him into silence. Surely D would understand, wouldn't he?
Lingering for a full minute, he looked back toward his house, but decided against going back. He knew he would be missed soon, but didn't care. His mom would be mad he disappeared, worrying everyone. Probably be a good idea to text Dean to tell him he went for a walk. Reaching for his phone, he realized it was on his dresser. Too bad.
Just before he started walking again he thought he heard something behind him. Turning he saw his cousin walking toward him.
Shit! What did he need to do to be alone, go running? Keep going and ignore her or wait to confront her. Given how fast she was walking, he would need to start running to avoid her. Stay and see what she wanted, he decided.
"You know when someone walks out without saying anything, that's generally a sign they want to be alone." He did not try to hide his annoyance.
"Yeah," she said contritely. "I'm sorry I ruined your mood Jase. When I noticed you were gone, I felt bad. Your mom asked where you were so I told her you needed some air."
Great, Barbara was going to demand answers now. "Wonderful."
"Don't worry, I told her you weren't feeling so great and I suggested you go outside for some fresh air." Michele put her arm around his shoulder. "Sorry I upset you, I didn't mean to."
"You didn't," he lied. "Just not in the mood to talk about myself right now."
"Why did you stop here?" She nodded toward the Minger's house.
Jason shrugged. "This is Darryl's house. I spent so many nights here when we were kids, it feels like a second home." He left out he missed his best friend.
"You know what I said about you being a bad liar?" Without waiting for a reply she continued. "Walking out like you did only confirmed what I suspected."
"Spit it out cuz, you won't be happy until you say what's on your mind." His mood was truly foul right now. Maybe he would go jump in the creek before going home. That way everyone would think he was unbalanced or high.
"Jason, it's okay you know." She tried to look him in the eye, but looked down when Jason scowled.
"Michele, I came out to be alone." He moved so her arm fell off his shoulder. "But you hunted me down anyway. Now you're talking in riddles."
"You're gay aren't you?" She blurted out.
Thankfully it was dark and he was a step ahead of her or else she would have seen all the color drain from his face. "That's what this is about?" Turning to face her, he shook his head. Anger at being stalked by his cousin masked all other emotions.
"I said I thought I knew," she told him. "When you left right after that I was sure of it."
"Sorry to ruin your palm reading tryout, but do you have second answer?" He was seething she kept on him about this. If she knew what was wrong, she had to know he didn't want to talk about it.
Maybe it was the anger in his voice, but she seemed less sure of her suspicion. "Jason," she started then stopped. "I don't, I mean I didn't mean to insult you. But the signs were all there."
"Signs?" He spat. "What, you mean my lack of a current girlfriend suddenly makes me gay? Jesus if that doesn't make half the world gay."
"No, that's not it." She said calmly. "As I said, I can tell when you are lying most times. Your stalker story was kind of true, but not totally. That it only emerged AFTER Meredith suggested you were hiding something told me you were. When I said the signs were there, I meant your reaction to things that threatened to get too close to your secret. Walking away only confirmed my suspicions."
"Stick to finances Michele." He sneered. "Your detective skills are weak."
He was about to leave her when she spoke again. "Tell me you're not gay. So far you never denied it."
"Goodbye Michele." He walked away shaking his head.
Before he made it past the next house, Michele was at his left shoulder. "Jason stop."
Wheeling about, Jason's face was a mirror for the rage he held inside. "What!"
"I meant what I said about not telling anyone. You can trust me." Her calm voice contrasted Jason's angry words. "If I'm right you probably need someone to talk to."
"If you were right then clearly I'm trying to keep it a secret." He flung his arms out wildly. "When you tell someone, it's no longer a secret is it?"
"Jason we've been through a lot together," she reminded him. "When I thought I was pregnant, you were the only person I trusted enough to tell. Do you think I would return the favor by blabbing your private life?"
Jason remembered how scared she was when she told him she needed him to take her to the doctor. So far as he knew, she never told her sister. "Michele, why do you care so much? Why do you need to know?"
"After what you did for me, I think of you as the brother I never had." She looked teary eyed. "When Meredith started pressing you, I could see your pain. I owe you Jase and I wanted to help. Sorry I didn't mean to make it worse."
She turned to walk back.
Fuck, he thought. "You're right." He kept his voice soft, but he was sure she heard him. When she stopped walking, he joined her. "Your suspicions were right."
"Jason, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you like this." She was crying now.
"C'mere." He drew closer. "It's okay, really."
She laughed. "Shouldn't you be the one balling not me?"
"Don't push me there okay?" He looked down at her with a smirk. "You already got me to tell you want you wanted, let me at least not worry about it."
"Deal." Michele wiped her eyes. "Now that I know, is there anything else you want to talk about?"
Jason pulled her. "How about I tell you about him. Isn't that what you really want to know?"
Michele stopped walking again. "There's a him?"
"Yeah there's a him." His mood improved immediately. Finally there was someone he could tell about Peter.
Rolling over, Jason nearly fell out of his bed; his old twin bed at home. Three months in the double bed he bought for his apartment spoiled him. It still felt weird being back in his old bedroom, more so after all that happened this semester. It took him a couple seconds to remember what he did with his stuff.
His iPhone was charging on the desk, meaning he needed to get out of the warm bed if he wanted to use it. Strangely, the bed wasn't nearly as comfortable as he remembered even as recently as last summer. Pushing the sheets back, he was pleasantly surprised to find the room was warm; much warmer than his or Peter's when he got up. Leave it to his dad to have the heat on a timer so it was comfortable first thing in the morning.
No calls, not texts, no surprise. Peter and he were texting until late in the night.
"Merry Xmas handsome. Let me no when u r up so I can call u." Sending the message, he set the phone down.
Sitting in front of his old computer, he wondered if it was a mistake telling his cousin. True they had a history of being there for each other, but what if she slipped up? Michele wouldn't out him; at least not deliberately. What if she slipped up?
Shaking his head he told himself to stop. Worrying about all the `what ifs' was going to drive him crazy. Besides, she did a good job of covering for him when he went for a walk. When the two of them returned, everyone asked how he was feeling without asking a lot of other questions. No, he could trust her, he decided.
If Christmas Eve was an all night food and drink affair, Christmas Day was a formal event. Before they went to his grandparents' estate - Grandma and Grandpa Henry always had Christmas at their house - his family was going to have breakfast together, then open gifts. After gifts came church, followed by the drive to the Henry Estate for dinner served by his grandparent's servants. It was always a bit much, but it made his grandparents happy.
His phone vibrated, breaking his train of thought.
"Awake, call me if u can." Reading Peter's text made him smile
Tapping his phone, he sent back, "let me find a safe room, call u in ten."
If nowhere seemed good, he figured he could go running, stop somewhere to talk, then run home. Tossing on a sweatshirt and baggie cotton pants he sometimes slept in when it was really cold, he made his way downstairs. Not surprisingly, no one was up at 7:30. His parents were up late cleaning; his offer to help was declined, probably because they thought he might be sick.
Plugging in his ear piece he called Peter even as he started to make coffee.
"Merry Christmas Soccer Boy." Peter's voice alone made him smile.
"Thanks, same to you Karate Kid," he jabbed back. "How are you today?"
"Better for hearing your voice." Peter seemed in good spirits.
"You at your place or your mom's?" He forgot to ask that last night. Measuring out the coffee, it took him a moment to remember he was making coffee for four not one.
"My place," Peter confirmed. "I'm making a pie for today. Erin is bringing her boyfriend over so mom is fussin' that everything be perfect."
Jason laughed. From what Peter said about is mom, she was one of the most competent cooks around. Everything would be perfect without her doing anything special.
"What kind of pie?" Jason asked.
"Pecan," Peter told him. "Don't worry I am making two, one for us to share when you get back."
"Sweet." He already told Peter pecan pie was one of his favorite desserts. Turning the tap back on, he added a bit more water to the tank to accommodate his parent's preference.
"I can't believe you told your cousin."
"She kind of figured it out." Jason tried not to worry about his decision.
"Do you think that was smart?" Even over the phone Jason could hear the note of skepticism.
"Michele and I are close. When she thought she was pregnant and might need an abortion, I was the only person she told," Jason recited his history with Michele. "As far as I know I'm the only person other than her boyfriend who knew she thought she was pregnant - and now you."
Peter didn't comment at his inclusion in the list. "I take it she wasn't pregnant."
"No, but it was a defining moment for us I guess." Jason knew in his heart Michele wouldn't tell his secret. "She won't tell anyone."
"If you trust her that's what matters." Peter was making noise in the background.
"I do." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince; Peter or himself. "To tell you the truth, it felt good to finally tell someone about me, about you, about us."
"So over the river and through the woods today?" Peter changed topics. Jason never told Peter about his grandparents' gated estate. To reach their house required crossing a river and driving through a long wooded area.
"Yeah." Jason wasn't dreading the trip as much as he was yesterday.
"What about your other grandparents? Don't you see them?" Peter's grandparents lived in Florida and rarely came north for the holiday.
"The Tellerman Clan gathers for Thanksgiving then disperses for Christmas." Luckily Thanksgiving was at his house this year so he didn't have to travel to Ohio like the last two years. "My dad's brother and sister both live close to Pittsburgh, she in Pennsylvania, he in Ohio. My grandparents are spending it with them this year. Sometimes they come here, but not usually."
"Thanks for the iPod player," Peter said. "Waking up to it today made me smile because it reminded me of you."
"Really? Or are you just saying that to make me happy?" Jason hoped Peter wasn't still mad.
"Seriously." Peter sounded sincere. "When I turned off the alarm I looked at it and smiled."
"That's good." Jason watched the pot slowly fill. "Wish I could use your gift today, but that would present a problem."
Peter bought him a coffee mug covered with sappy terms of affection.
"No worries, I want you back in one piece, not in pieces," Peter laughed.
Jason heard movement upstairs. "Hey Pete, I need to go, someone is moving around and since I know it is not Dean, it has to be my parents."
"That's cool, I understand." Peter didn't sound nearly as disappointed as Jason expected. "I need to finish making the pies so they have time to cool before I leave. Will you be able to call me later?"
"Not sure, depends on how closely I am monitored." He considered how things usually went. "I will try to go outside if I have to."
"Don't get in trouble," Peter cautioned. "If you can manage it, however, I would like to hear your voice."
"You bet Pete." He could hear whomever it was walking around again. "Gotta go. I miss you."
"I miss you too." Now Peter sounded unhappy. "Drive safe."
Wrapping the ear piece around the phone, he shoved them both in his pocket a second before his dad walked into the kitchen.
"I thought I heard voices down here." Royce walked over to give Jason a hug. "I just couldn't imagine either of my sons being up this early, even on Christmas."
The reference to Christmas' passed made him laugh. "Yeah Dean and I barely slept when we were kids. I remember one time we tried to wake you up at 6:00 a.m." Jason pulled two coffee mugs from the cabinet in front of him.
"I remember." Royce accepted a cup from his son. "Your mother and I were up until 2:30 wrapping gifts that year because you boys wouldn't go to bed."
"Isn't that the year you told me Santa Claus wasn't real?" Jason removed the pot, motioning with it to his dad.
Holding out the cup, his father said, "I believe I didn't tell you outright so much as not try to dissuade you of the notion."
"Yeah that sounds right." After he put the pot back he saw his dad looking into the mug. "I didn't make it as strong as I would if it was just me."
"Still looks a might strong." Royce shrugged. "Nothing a bit more milk won't cure."
Jason took his coffee to the table as his father found the milk.
"You and Michele seemed thick as thieves last night," his father said with a smile. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah, just felt a bit tired." He hoped he sounded convincing. "Meredith's boyfriend is a dork and I just needed some air."
"Be nice Jason." Royce's laugh told Jason his father shared his assessment. "Were you calling someone when I came down?"
Ready for the question, Jason gave the answer he prepared. "Yeah, Wendy sent me a text wishing me a Merry Christmas. I figured I would call instead of text since I knew she was awake."
"How is she?"
His father's interest caught him off guard.
"She's okay." He figured that was safe. "Glad to be home and done with finals."
"I can imagine." The answer appeared to satisfy his father. "Are you still planning to go back to school tomorrow?"
Now Jason understood why they were having this conversation. "Yeah, I am."
"Any reason you don't want to stay here?" Royce's tone was hard for Jason to read.
"Hopefully this doesn't sound insulting," Jason prefaced his remarks. "I enjoy the freedom that comes with having my own place. Not that you and mom are hard to live with, but I still feel like a kid when I'm here. It's hard to adjust to that after being on my own."
"That's a better reasoned answer than I expected," He nodded in approval. "I also can't argue with your logic. That's how I felt when I was your age. Your mother won't be happy, but I'll help her understand."
"Thanks dad."
Rubbing Jason's head, his father put his cup down. "You bet son. Let me go wake your brother so we can have breakfast and open gifts before mass."
Breakfast was awkward; Dean was half asleep so Jason became the focus of conversation. Mom wanted to know what happened last night, where he went, why he and Michele spent so much time outside.
Finally, when it was clear Jason wasn't going to volunteer much, his father suggested they move to the family room to exchange gifts. Trailing his brother, he couldn't help but wonder how many more happy Christmas Days his family would spend together. No matter how careful he was, he couldn't hide forever. The longer he and Peter were together, the more he wanted to share it with people. Michele listening to him talk about how he felt having a boyfriend only reinforced those desires.
Fortunately no one heard the small sigh escape his lips. Rather then dwell on it, he sat beside his brother, just as they had done for a dozen Christmas mornings.
For his part, Jason thought his gifts to the family showed more thought than normal. Two tickets to see the Phillies play the Pirates in Philadelphia for his dad. Front row, first base side. Seeing the smile on his father's face made the effort worth it.
The large box he wrapped for his brother contained newspaper, a couple rocks for weight and an envelope. Confused, but interested, Dean ripped open the envelope and pulled out the paper. It took a moment for what he was looking at to sink in, but when it did his face broke into a huge smile.
"No way Jase, are you serious?"
"What is it?" His mother asked.
"Jason booked us a ski trip to Vail over spring break for three days." Dean jumped up to give him a hug. "Thanks bro, this so rocks."
"Rocks?" Jason's stare drew everyone else's to the box. Dean shoved him as they laughed as his unintended pun.
His gifts were nothing exciting; shirts and pants, an iTunes card, a department store gift card, a coffee of the month club membership. The only gift that made him smile was Dean's. His brother bought him the newest Grand Theft Auto game for his xBox and an electronic picture frame. Loaded on the hard drive were dozens of pictures of the two of them from when they were tiny to this past summer. Watching the pictures change, he felt a lump in his throat.
"Wow." He could barely control his emotions. "I'm blown away Dean." Swallowing again, he looked at his brother with tears around the edges of his eyes. "This is amazing."
"Really? Do you really like it?" Dean asked eagerly.
"Yeah," he managed to get out. "I really do Dean. Thanks."
He got up to hug his brother.
"Thanks Jase, I can't believe we are going to Vail." He laughed, thumping Jason on the back.
"Thanks Dean, this is . . . ." He couldn't finish.
His father picked up the frame and Jason thought he saw the same emotions he felt in his father's face.
"Dean this is really something," Royce said. "How long did this take you?"
"Finding the right frame wasn't too bad," he said proudly. "Going through all those pictures took time. There were a couple early ones that were not on disc so I had to go get them scanned in."
"Dean, that was really thoughtful of you," his mother echoed her husband's words. "I can see your brother really appreciated it."
Jason's gift to his mother was the last one to be opened. He wasn't sure how that happened, but he was glad since this was his `best' find. Carefully, she unwrapped the figurine. Holding it up, she studied it the same way Jason had.
"It's lovely Jason, where did you find this?" She asked.
"In a small antique store in Philadelphia," he told her. "I bought it with Wendy on our annual after Thanksgiving trip. When I saw it, I thought you would like it."
"I do." She sounded sincere. "It's beautiful."
"There are some print outs that explain the markings, its age and stuff." He told her, then watched as she pulled out the pages on the bottom of the box. "According to that information, it's about a hundred years old."
His mother looked at the figurine again, turning it over and over. "Thank you Jason," she said. "I really love it . . . ."
Barbara put the statuette on top of the packing, set the box down to give him a hug. "Thank you." She reached over to hug Dean. "Thank you both. This was wonderful Christmas. I'm proud of you both."
The irony of her comment nearly brought tears to his eyes. If she only knew, she wouldn't feel that way he thought. "You're welcome."
"Okay," Royce clapped his hands. "Go get ready for church."
Fewer cars than normal occupied the small lot to Peter's building. Parking in a visitors' space, Jason saw Peter's bike on the side of the building. From the parking lot, he couldn't see Peter's apartment, but he knew he was there; the last text he got asking how soon he would be there confirmed it.
Almost noon, not bad he thought, especially given how late they got back to his parent's house. Odd how he already thought of it as `his parent's' house.
Opening the trunk, he debated bringing all his gifts inside, but didn't want to make Peter feel uncomfortable. Instead he took the bag with his brother's gift, a shirt he liked, the gift cards from his parents, a card from his grandparents with a check and a small box of chocolates his grandmother remembered he liked.
The vast bulk of boxes, mostly clothes his parents and relatives gave him, he left in the car. Slinging the strap to his carry bag over his shoulder, he reached in the backseat and got the bag of food his grandmother insisted he take back with him. She told him his parents `didn't need any more food after last night so take this and shut up.' The way she told him to shut up still made him smile.
Setting the food down so he could open the door, he almost laughed when he looked inside. Neatly stacked containers of food filled the bag. Food prepared by his grandparent's staff, brought from his grandparents' estate to a run down apartment complex on the edge of the bad side of town.
A frown creased his face. Thoughts like that would only make things worse, he realized. Peter was already self conscious of their economic differences. If he knew the full extent, he might run away.
Quietly he walked up the stairs. Unlike his apartment building, populated by other students, Peter's building was rented to mostly families and working adults. His building was guaranteed to be mostly empty; not so here.
Knocking loud enough for Peter to hear, Jason stepped back. Foot steps immediately greeted his tapping. Knowing Peter was about to open the door brought a smile to his face.
"Wow," Peter said when he opened the door. "This is what I call a Christmas gift."
"Hey handsome." His voice conveyed how tired he was. Peter kissed him before he stepped back to let him inside. "A day late, but it still feels like Christmas seeing you."
"Merry Christmas Jason."
Jason grinned. "If you only knew how much I wanted to get back just to hear you tell me that in person."
"Merry Christmas again." Peter shut the door, kissing him again.
"Merry Christmas Pete." His hands full, he contented himself with letting Peter hug him. Holding up the bag with food he said, "Compliments of my grandparents. Grandma knew I was coming back to school and gave me half the leftovers I think."
"Damn." Peter tested the weight of the bag. "What's in here?"
"What's not might be easier to tell," he joked. "Turkey, stuffing, vegetables, mashed potatoes, a tub of gravy, three kinds of cookies, half a rum cake and, one of grandma's Christmas eclairs."
"Is there something special about that?" Peter must have noted the emphasis he gave the eclair.
Jason nodded as he put the rest of his stuff down. "She only makes them at Christmas. My grandmother rarely cooks anymore. Only for family and only if she is making something special. Baking is even rarer. So we always look forward to these, at least the grandkids always do. She only gives one per person at dinner and one to take home."
Peter stared at the bag as if he could see what Jason was describing. "Really? How cool."
"One of the Henry family traditions I suppose." Jason sat down.
"So," Peter reached into the refrigerator. "Lunch before dessert?"
"Honestly?" Jason put a hand on his stomach. "I can't do lunch right now. I'm still full from the late breakfast I had with Dean."
"Just dessert then," Peter winked. "Eclairs or Pecan Pie?"
"Do you have whipped cream for the pie?" Jason asked hopefully.
Peter pulled out a bowl. "Home made of course."
"Pie," he said quickly. "The eclair is for you."
Peter gave him an odd look. "She gave it to you because she wanted you to enjoy it."
"Giving it to you makes me happier," Jason answered.
Gathering the plates and utensils, Peter seemed as happy as his grandmother had been getting dinner for her family. Jason wished he knew how to cook.
"What are you going to have?" He asked.
"Pie, just like you," Peter smiled. "You know, we probably ought to eat here most of the week. We can split your eclair then."
"Did I just hear an invitation to come for dinner every night this week?" Jason pretended to act surprised.
"Um, you saw me put that food in my fridge right?" Peter teased him. "Why did you think I did that?"
"To keep it cold for me until I can get it home?" Jason stuck his tongue, proud of his answer.
"Hadn't thought of that." Peter turned back to the pie. Cutting two pieces, he scooped out some whipped cream and brought over the plates. "Let me know if you like it. I don't use corn syrup like most recipes. I use caramel syrup."
"You know I was kidding about the food right?" Jason was worried Peter might have thought he was serious.
"Of course," Peter laughed. "Besides, I am going to hide all your clothes when you are asleep tonight. You aren't going to be allowed to leave for a week."
"Oh really?" Jason tried the pie. "Damn, this is good."
"You like?"
"Love it." Jason tried not to eat too fast. "Just don't give me anymore until tonight. Otherwise it will be gone too soon."
"That and you'll get fat." Peter warned.
"Yeah, I know how you hate skinny fat." Jason smiled as Peter almost spit out the pie in his mouth.
"I might make an exception for you, but no promises if you let yourself go." Peter tried to sound serious, but Jason didn't believe him.
Sitting on the futon after they cleaned up, Jason could feel himself getting tired. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity. Peter got behind him and began rubbing his shoulders.
"You have no idea how great that feels," Jason told him.
"I might if you did it to me sometime." Peter squeezed harder for emphasis.
"Sure," Jason ignored the extra pressure. "Just as soon as I find a qualified masseur to teach me."
Snickering, he felt Peter clamp down on his shoulder muscle. "Hey! That hurt."
"Sorry, guess I need more training."
Jason wiggled around. Leaning closer, he kissed Peter. "For you I'll work on learning."
"Getting all sweet on me only works 90 percent of the time."
Jason sat back. "Let me change subjects. I want to show you Dean's gift. Nearly made me cry looking at it."
"Wow." Peter's interest was piqued. "Your brother bought you something that almost made you cry?"
"Not bought," Jason corrected. "He put this together for me."
Jason turned it on and let the pictures scroll through. A picture of a three year old Jason holding a small baby monitored by his parents began the display. Dean and Jason grew steadily older as the pictures changed. Through them all the theme was the same; the two brothers smiling and happy. Fishing trips, soccer games, birthdays, on the rides at Disney World, first days of school, and more. In half the pictures, the two were arm in arm, especially as they got older. Several had Jason mugging it with Dean as the younger brother got a trophy or award.
Jason could feel himself getting teary again as he watched his life flash by on the screen. These were things Dean remembered as special; some of his brother's best memories.
"What was the occasion for this?" Peter stopped the display at a picture of him and Dean in tuxedos, laughing at something.
"My grandparent's fiftieth wedding anniversary last summer," Jason explained. "My mom's parents renewed their vows and had a reception at their home to celebrate. My Uncle Raymond was the best man and my mother was the matron of honor. Dean and I and our little cousin Keith were groomsmen in the wedding party."
Letting the pictures continue, Peter stopped the movement two pictures later. "Is this their house?"
Jason noted the awe in Peter's voice. "Yeah."
"The house you had dinner at last night?"
"Uh huh." Jason suddenly felt embarrassed.
Peter blinked twice, but remained quiet.
Jason knew what was bothering him. He didn't want to let it go unanswered.
"You okay?" Jason asked. "Suddenly your mood changed."
"Yeah fine." Came the terse reply.
"What's wrong?" Jason pressed. "It's the money thing, isn't it?"
"No." Peter wasn't convincing either of them. When Jason continued to stare at him, Peter finally relented. "Okay, yes it is. How do I compete with that?"
"You're not competing with my grandparents," Jason told him gently. "I don't live there and never will. My house isn't all that much bigger than some of those around here."
"Yeah, but you family has big time money." Peter's lips went tight and his eyes narrowed. Pointing to the picture he growled, "I mean that's a freaking mansion."
"Yeah it is," Jason kept his voice down. "My grandparent's mansion, not mine nor my family's."
"C'mon Jase, just because you don't live there doesn't mean you aren't used to living like that." Peter persisted.
Jason worked hard to keep his anger in check. "Pete, that isn't me. Even if it was, who cares?"
"I care." He almost yelled. Lowering his voice he continued. "How can we be equals if your family has more money than my whole family will make in ten lifetimes?"
"It's not my money." Unable to restrain his frustration, he stood up. "Geez Pete, why don't you hear me? Not only don't I live like that, neither do my parents. They live on what my dad makes. Mom's money is in a trust fund and they leave it there. Once they find out about us, that money will all go to Dean anyway. You don't have to worry about my getting any."
Peter frowned. "Be real Jason. Your mom isn't going to give it all to Dean."
"Pete, why does this matter?" Jason was worried this would drive them apart. "I promise you, it's not my money."
"Someday it could be," he responded.
"Can't we deal with that IF that ever happens?" Jason asked, almost pleading with Peter. "If that day ever comes, we'll have been together a long time. Hopefully by then it won't matter because we'll both be successful."
Peter didn't answer right away. He appeared to be thinking so Jason didn't interrupt. When he looked up at Jason he smiled. "Given that you never let on you were this rich, I guess it's not an issue. You don't act like you are super rich."
"That's because I am not," Jason said sincerely. "I have no idea how much my mom got or will get. I know what's in my trust fund . . . ."
Fuck! He wasn't supposed to mention that.
"You have a trust fund?" Peter's apprehension was back.
"Yeah," he confirmed. "My grandparents set it up when I was born; they did it for all the grandkids. I can't touch any of it until I am twenty-five. I have to be working to be able to receive the income. No job, no income. When I'm forty I gain access to the principal."
Peter was suddenly distant again; twisting Jason's stomach into a knot.
"Peter I can't change who my family is any more than I can change who I am or who I love." He used that phrase hoping to remind Peter what they had. "Right now I don't have access to the money and won't for almost five years. My dad has never let us be spoiled rich kids. I have to pay for my car by working every summer. They won't even allow me to use birthday or Christmas money so that my grandparents' can't pay it off for me by giving me a big check. I have to earn enough each summer to pay them back.
"Don't think I don't realize how lucky I am." Jason hoped for some sign Peter was going to be able to get past this. "My dad keeps us grounded because that's how he is. We live on his salary, not my mom's trust fund. And yes, I know his salary makes us well to do, but dad worked hard to build his firm. No one gave it to him. He expects the same of us."
Peter gave him the barest hint that he was coming around so Jason made one last appeal. "Please don't let this affect how you feel about me. I promise you, I'm not Hyden and never will be; I'm exactly the person I showed you since we met."
"How come you never told me about this?" Peter asked.
"I did," he reminded Peter. "When you told me about Hayden, I told you my mom was heiress rich."
"Yeah you told me that, but what about the trust fund? How come you never told me about that?" Peter demanded.
"Pete I barely think about it," Jason said honestly. "I can't touch it for more than five years and then there are conditions I need to meet before I see a cent. It's just not on my mind because it feels so remote. And," he paused to make sure Peter was listening. "Not everyone feels the same way about money as you. Most people would be after me for the money if they knew. I guess I started out keeping it quiet so you won't like me just for my money. Then when I learned you might see it as a negative, I was keeping it quiet until I could convince you I'm worth staying with even with a trust fund."
"Fair enough," Peter nodded. "Either you're a great liar and a great actor or you are the person you show me. Since it doesn't make sense to try to impress me pretending not to be rich, I know you're being honest; that and you're a terrible liar. My insecurities about being poor are my problem to work on, not yours."
"Living my whole life knowing we were rich has shaped who I am, I know," Jason admitted. "If you liked me before, I won't change who I am, I promise."
"What about who you love?" Peter gave him a playful grin.
Now Jason blushed. "Heard that did you?"
"Couldn't miss it," Peter's smile told Jason he wasn't mad. "So is it true?"
"Huh?" Jason was already flustered, he wanted to be sure he answered the right question.
"C'mon Jase, do I need to say it?" Now it was Peter's turn to feel awkward.
"Yeah," Jason laughed nervously. "You brought it up."
"True," Peter stalled. "So is it true I'm the one you choose to love?" The words trailed off so that the word love was almost a whisper.
Jason exhaled, but kept his gaze steady on Peter's eyes. "I hadn't planned to say it, I figured it would scare you. Then I slipped up, I seem to do that often around you, don't I?"
"Stop changing the subject," Peter pressed him.
"Please," Jason made a face. "Of course it's true."
"Now I'm going to make you say it," Peter prodded. "You can't dance around it."
"Wow you are demanding tonight, aren't you?" Jason played for time. When Peter's eyes told him he wanted, maybe even needed, to hear Jason say it, he took another deep breath. "It's true, you are the one I love. Yes, I love you."
"That's good, because I love you and it would suck if you didn't love me back." Peter tried to joke about it, but Jason only heard the `I love you' part.
Jason reached over, kissing Peter softly. "Hearing you say that is as special a Christmas gift as what Dean gave me. Thank you for telling me."
After another kiss, Peter's face told Jason he was up to something. "Wanna go get naked and spend the rest of the day celebrating?"
"Damn, the whole day?" Jason laughed. Peter loved him. He knew before Peter told him, but hearing it made it more real. Even though it was no longer Christmas, it was still Christmas to Jason. The best Christmas, he told himself. Even the potential problem with his mom couldn't deflate his good mood. "I thought we would go out and do something before we went to bed for the day."
Peter held out his hand. "Let's play it by ear."
Jason let Peter pull him up. "That works for me."
Finally saying, `I love you' to each other only made their bond that much stronger for him. Letting Peter lead him into the bedroom, Jason pushed aside any doubts so he could focus on the person he chose to love.