Billy grins, pushing John onto the mattress and straddling his waist. "Do you remember our first Christmas? The very first one? You got me that damned knife that probably cost every cent you had, at the time. We weren't even fucking, yet. And I didn't even know what Christmas was, so I had to go out and try and figure what to get you." He'd settled on a new rifle (stolen from someone who didn't deserve it and given to someone who wouldn't use it). "It was ridiculous."
He laughed, bending to kiss John gently, remembering the Christmases since that one. They'd had ten. Would have had eleven, if they'd lived. But this counted as their eleventh, then. A chance many didn't get. "Oh...and the pin," he almost purrs at that memory. "I still need to get you something good for that one." He laughs again, pecking John tenderly over and over again. Slowly deepening them with each increasing movement.
Gradually, he shifts over, laying beside John instead of over him, pulling him closer so their touching with every inch of their body. "Next year..." he says, lips bumping against John's as he tries to speak. "Next year we're going to do it right. A tree. A decorated house. Spiked eggnog and a party and mistletoe in every room. Just in case the novelty's worn off and I need an excuse to kiss you," he teases lightly, kissing the tip of his nose. "You'll be there, right? Next Christmas. You're going to take care of yourself so that you can see it?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-12-30 04:08 am (UTC)He laughed, bending to kiss John gently, remembering the Christmases since that one. They'd had ten. Would have had eleven, if they'd lived. But this counted as their eleventh, then. A chance many didn't get. "Oh...and the pin," he almost purrs at that memory. "I still need to get you something good for that one." He laughs again, pecking John tenderly over and over again. Slowly deepening them with each increasing movement.
Gradually, he shifts over, laying beside John instead of over him, pulling him closer so their touching with every inch of their body. "Next year..." he says, lips bumping against John's as he tries to speak. "Next year we're going to do it right. A tree. A decorated house. Spiked eggnog and a party and mistletoe in every room. Just in case the novelty's worn off and I need an excuse to kiss you," he teases lightly, kissing the tip of his nose. "You'll be there, right? Next Christmas. You're going to take care of yourself so that you can see it?"