Waiting for a Sunny Day 6/6
Craig knocked twice and walked in, calling out for Michael as he moved through the house.
“Kitchen!” Michael yelled back.
He was cleaning up the remains of breakfast when Craig found him, grimacing at a particular spot on the table. “Johnny spill his milk again?” Craig asked, resting his arms on the island.
“Of course. If he’d stop slurping, we wouldn’t have this trouble.”
Craig snorted. Michael obviously didn’t realize he slurped his cereal as well, and that was where Johnny got it from. Michael threw the dishrag into the sink and came over to him, smiling. Craig pulled him down into a kiss, hand automatically going to the bare skin revealed where his shirt bunched up.
“Hey,” Michael mumbled against his mouth.
“Hey.” He stepped back but continued to stroke his side. “You ready to go?”
“Sure, but you’re not.”
“Hmm?”
“Your collar’s all jacked up. Didn’t you check a mirror before you left?” Smiling fondly, Michael reached out to fix his collar, straightening it out and making sure it laid down flat.
Craig rolled his eyes. “I’m a mechanic, not a fashion aficionado.”
He smirked. “And yet you know the term fashion aficionado.”
“Shut up,” Craig grumbled. “Boys get to Courtney’s okay?”
“Yeah, she actually showed up on time for once. I like it better when she picks them up after school.”
“I know, but she can’t help having to do an emergency shift at work.” Craig had doubted the validity of that at first, since she often came up with excuses for missing her weekends with Johnny and Sam. He couldn’t imagine not wanting to spend time with those boys. They were sweet and loving and smart and, yeah, a handful sometimes, but they were amazing kids. Michael believed her story, though, so Craig chose not to speak out against her.
“Yeah. It’s just-” He cut himself off, frowning.
“What?”
“I realize they have to see their mom, but it’s always so quiet here without them.”
Which was all Johnny’s fault, of course. Craig wondered if he was that noisy before or if he unconsciously compensated for Sam’s silence by being even louder.
“Well, we’ll just have to make our own noise later,” Craig suggested, going for an over-the-top leer.
Michael laughed, which was Craig’s goal, and kissed him. “You always know just what I need.”
“Yep,” he replied smugly, and Michael gently brushed his fingertips over Craig’s cheek.
“We should-”
“Michael Alan Calavicci, what are you doing with that man?”
Michael’s head snapped up at the unexpected shriek, and he hurriedly jumped away from Craig.
“Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?” he asked with a mostly convincing air of casualness. His hand shook when he ran it through his hair, though.
“We thought we’d take the boys to the park,” his dad answered, eyeing them both while his mom glared at them.
“This is their weekend with Courtney. I told you that.”
His mom ignored their conversation. “Do you let him do that to you?”
“Do what?” Michael crossed his arms and backed into the island. Cracks were starting to show in his brittle wall of calm- shoulders tense, slight tremors at the corners of his mouth, eyes wide with fear.
“Touch you like that?” She waved a hand vaguely. Craig forced down an absurd urge to point out Michael had been touching him as well.
Biting his lip, Michael closed his eyes for a few heartbeats. Craig could see the battle on his face, whether to deny everything or tell the truth, and he honestly had no idea which way Michael would go. Suzanne continued to glare at them, and Tony didn’t look much happier.
“Yes,” Michael said finally. His voice began as a barely audible whisper, but gained strength as he went along. “Yes, I let him touch me and kiss me and do things to me that’d probably make your hair curl.”
“Michael, how could you?” Suzanne put a hand to her heart, clearly scandalized and appalled, and took a large step away from him.
Michael swallowed and swayed a little, despite resting most of his weight against the island. “Mom-”
“You can’t be gay. I refuse to believe my son is gay.”
“I’m not gay,” Michael insisted, and she gave him an uncertain look mixed with hope. “I don’t know what I am, exactly. Bisexual maybe or…I don’t know. But I’m with Craig, and he makes me happy, Mom.” His eyes flicked to Craig briefly, and Craig smiled gently.
He wanted to go to Michael, wrap his arms around him and let him know he was loved and not alone. But he hung back; Michael needed to do this on his own. It seemed so bizarre to have this confrontation in Michael’s bright and sunny kitchen. It should be dark or raining, something to reflect Michael’s turmoil and his parents’ disapproval.
“No.” She shook her head. “No. You weren’t raised this way. You know it’s a sin to lie with another man.”
“The way I was raised? That’s what’s wrong!” Michael slammed his fist on the counter, and everyone jerked in surprise. “You made me afraid to be myself! You made me hate myself and live this dark, half-life! I hurt people because I was denying who I really am!”
“This is not who you are! It can’t be. Something happened to make you think this is okay when it’s not.”
Tony turned to Craig suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You. It was you, wasn’t it? You corrupted our son with your sick, depraved attentions. It’s immoral and evil, and you should be ashamed of yourself for doing this to a good, honest man.”
“Don’t you dare talk to him like that!” Michael yelled. Suzanne flinched at the hard tone and took another step away from Michael. “He’s a good person. The best. And he loves me, all of me, not just the pretty parts that fit in with your outdated ideals. Why can’t you accept me for the way I am?” The last was said a lot lower, laced with pain and regret.
“It’s wrong,” Suzanne insisted. “In the eyes of the Lord, it’s wrong.”
“It’s never wrong to love another person, whether it’s a man or woman.”
“I just don’t understand why you would choose to live this way.”
“Choose?” He laughed humorlessly. “You think I’d choose to be ridiculed and cursed at and told I’m going to hell? This isn’t a lifestyle, Mom. It’s who I am.”
“It’s unacceptable.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Until you choose to follow your faith and upbringing, you are no longer our son.”
Michael’s head whipped up, and he jerked, as if from a blow. “Mom,” he choked out.
This was all Michael’s fears made real, played out in Technicolor, and Craig bit his lip on the angry words building in his throat.
“You heard her,” Tony stated. “You’re no longer our son.”
“You don’t mean that. You can’t-”
“We’ll show ourselves out,” Tony announced, like Michael had never spoken.
A minute later, they were gone. Craig waited a beat, then hurriedly crossed to Michael. Craig gripped his shoulder, saying his name tentatively.
“I just came out to my parents,” Michael whispered, voice almost devoid of emotion.
“I know. It’s okay, Michael. I know it hurts, but at least it’s out there now. You can be true to yourself for once.”
“Oh, God. I just came out to my parents!” Michael turned to Craig with an expression of shock mixed with pain. Tears were pooling in his eyes, making them shine even darker. Craig wrapped his arms around his shaking body, and Michael stifled a sob against his neck. His tears fell hot on Craig’s skin, and Craig closed his own eyes, feeling Michael’s grief as if it were his own.
His parents always supported and loved him, helped him when he struggled and were always there for him. He couldn’t understand how anyone could treat their children in that way.
“Thank you.” Michael sniffed after awhile, rubbing his face against Craig’s shoulder.
“You’re welcome.” Craig kissed Michael’s cheek and held him tighter. “Hey, come on. Let’s sit.”
Michael nodded, and they shuffled into the living room and over to the couch together. Michael curled in his arms, crying quietly. Craig stroked his hair and his back, murmuring random words, trying his best to soothe him. He ached for Michael, wished he could do something more besides hold him and say inane things. If he thought it’d do any good, he’d go after Tony and Suzanne and give them a piece of his mind. Yell at them and attempt to beat into their thick skulls that Michael was perfect the way he was. That they were the ones losing out by walking away from Michael.
Eventually, Michael pulled away and sat up, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. His eyes were red and puffy, and it killed Craig to see him like that.
“Feeling any better?” he asked tentatively.
“Not really, no,” Michael admitted, but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’ll be okay. Either they’ll get over it and accept you or-”
“I’ll learn to deal with it?”
“At least you’re being honest now. You don’t have to hide who you are anymore.”
“Yeah.” Michael didn’t sound very convinced. Craig knew it would take a long time for him to come to terms with what happened.
“I’m so sorry,” he told Michael. “If there was anything I could do to make it better, I would.”
“I know. And thank you.” He kissed Craig briefly, then sighed and laid his head on the back of the couch. “I just cut two more people out of my kids’ lives. It was horrible after Courtney left, and now they’ve lost their grandparents.”
Craig cupped Michael’s face, gently caressing his cheeks. “They have you, and I happen to think you’re pretty fantastic.”
“And you. They also have you,” Michael said quietly.
“Yes, they do,” Craig agreed and kissed him, soft and sweet. “I’m proud of you. That took guts, man.”
“I don’t know about that. It all just exploded out of me. I still feel like I’m gonna be sick.”
“It’ll be okay,” Craig repeated. Maybe if he said it enough, they’d both believe it.
***
“So what are you doing on Sunday?” Michael asked.
Craig glanced up from the engine he was messing with. It was quiet in the garage this close to the end of the day, only Evan in a back corner working on a Toyota’s brakes. It’d been a relatively slow day, and he’d been embarrassingly happy when Michael showed up 20 minutes ago to keep him company until closing and the movie they planned to go to.
The garage was still his baby, and he loved working on cars just as much as always. But lately he’d been stepping back some on dealing with day-to-day operations and letting Evan take over more responsibility. Craig still put in 60-plus hours a week- he was a bit of a work-a-holic and loved it too much to cut his hours back more than that. He took most Saturdays off, though, to spend time with Michael and the boys. His focus had definitely shifted since Michael came back into his life.
“Sleeping in and being lazy,” Craig replied easily. “Why?”
“Do you want to come over for dinner?”
Craig wondered what made this Sunday different from all the other days and meals he’d spent with Michael and the boys. Michael’s tone was light and casual, but his body language gave away how important this was to Michael. His shoulders were tense as he fiddled awkwardly with the tools on the workbench, and he kept breaking eye contact with Craig.
“Of course I’ll come,” Craig assured him. “I didn’t forget one of the boy’s birthdays, did I?” Michael smiled at that, knowing as well as Craig that he’d never forget anything concerning Johnny and Sam.
“No. It’s a, uh, reinstating of a tradition.” Michael picked up a wrench, then immediately put it back, flushing slightly at Craig’s raised eyebrow. “It was always a tradition in my family to have macaroni on Sunday, the whole time I was growing up and after. I kept it up with the boys and then all the shit with Courtney and the divorce went down. We moved, and Sam quit talking, and a lot of things got brushed aside. After what happened with my parents… I don’t know, I just want the boys to have as much stability as possible, even if it’s something silly like having macaroni every Sunday.”
“Michael.” Craig’s chest ached for everything Michael lost this past year. Where was his breaking point? Craig hoped they’d never have to find out. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. I’m okay,” Michael insisted, and Craig dropped his hand halfway to Michael’s cheek. “Just come on Sunday.”
Craig was usually careful about not bringing up the subject of Michael’s parents. He knew it still hurt Michael, despite his claims of being all right. He’d been a little quieter lately and doing things like this macaroni dinner, as if he were trying to hold on harder to the people he still had in his life. It hurt Craig to see Michael like that, but he didn’t know how to help him. All he could do was prove to Michael that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ll be there, though I can’t believe you have a macaroni tradition,” he teased, and Michael pouted adorably.
“Hey! It’s homemade, with special cheeses and stuff, not just the lame Kraft in a box crap.”
“Oh, homemade. I’ll definitely be there then. With bells on even.”
“Asshole,” Michael accused, but he said it with such affection, it was like a caress across Craig’s skin.
On Sunday, Craig did his customary two knocks on Michael’s door before walking inside. He found Michael in the kitchen, ostensibly cooking, but looking more like he was just creating a huge mess. Dirty pots and pans laid everywhere, crowded into the double sink and spread all over the counters. Michael stood in the middle of it at the stove, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt that pulled tight across his broad shoulders. Craig leaned against the doorway and watched him for a couple minutes, taking in the play of muscles in his back as he stirred something and the easy way he stood there, barefoot and loose-limbed.
Michael turned to grab something off the counter next to him and finally spotted Craig, his whole face lighting up. “Hey!”
“Hey. Nice apron,” Craig mentioned, swallowing back a laugh at Michael’s frilly white apron, “Kiss me, I’m Italian” emblazoned across the front in green and red.
“Shut up. It was a gift from Johnny and Sam.”
“It’s cute.”
Wrapping a hand around the back of Michael’s neck, Craig tugged him down into a kiss. Michael smiled against his mouth and pulled him back in when Craig went to step away. A slight acrid smell alerted them to the burning pot, Michael jumping away with a curse to save their dinner.
“Do you need help with anything?” Craig asked, glancing around the disaster area of the kitchen. Clean up would be a bitch.
“No, thanks. I’ve got it. If you can go outside and round up the boys, though? It should be ready soon.”
“Sure. It smells awesome, by the way.”
Michael grinned in thanks, then shooed Craig outside.
The boys were in the middle of an elaborate game of pirates that they immediately dropped in favor of crawling all over him instead. Craig collapsed to the ground with an exaggerated oof, which made Johnny giggle. He let them have the upper hand for a couple minutes before he grabbed them. Surging to his feet with a little boy under each arm, he carried them inside the still-open backdoor and gently tossed them on the couch. Sam bounced and landed halfway in Johnny’s lap, both of them red-faced and grinning widely.
“Go wash up, okay, guys? Food’s almost ready,” Craig told them, and the boys nodded. Sam tried to tickle him as he stepped back, but Craig jumped away from him, pointing an accusing finger at him and mock-glaring. Which only caused them to giggle more.
Craig left them to go clean up and joined Michael in the kitchen again. “Your sons are brats,” he said, resting back against the counter by the stove and crossing his arms.
Michael snorted, then leaned over to kiss Craig softly. Craig heard Johnny and Sam shuffling into the kitchen and tried to pull away, knowing how wary Michael was about the boys seeing them like that, but Michael held on firmly, not letting him get far.
“Michael,” he murmured.
“They have to get used to this, to us,” he answered just as quietly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of Craig’s mouth. “Because I plan on you being around more. A lot more.”
Craig couldn’t keep the goofy smile off his face at that, and an answering smile curved the corners of Michael’s mouth up. “Okay,” Craig said and kissed him, just because he could now.
Johnny interrupted them by banging his fork on the table and shouting, “We want food! We want food!”
“Ugh. Craig’s right. You guys are brats,” Michael groaned, playfully ruffling Johnny’s hair, who ducked away, laughing and still demanding food.
Michael grabbed the pot off the stove to serve the macaroni, which finally got Johnny to be quiet. Sam knelt on his chair to reach the right height over the table, since he was still too small otherwise and had lately refused to use his booster seat. He watched avidly as Michael spooned macaroni onto his plate and dug in as soon as Michael moved away, Johnny doing the same when Michael served him. Craig understood why a minute later when he tried his first forkful.
“Wow. This is incredible,” Craig told him, swallowing another mouthful. The pasta was the perfect consistency, not overcooked like his mom often did, and the different flavors of the cheeses burst on his tongue.
“Thanks.” Michael smiled at him, this soft, private smile that made Craig’s heart stutter for a few beats.
Craig glanced around the table, at the boys shoveling macaroni into their mouths to the exclusion of everything else around them and at Michael gazing steadily back at him. It sounded cheesy, even in his own head, but he hoped this was the first of many traditions he’d be a part of with Michael and the boys.
***
Craig woke up to an empty bed. Noises from the bathroom quelled his momentary panic. Things were good between them now, yes, but there was always a small part of him that worried, that was convinced Michael would change his mind and decide it was too hard to be with him. That he was better off married to a woman, so he could have his parents back in his life.
Things were better, Craig reminded himself. They’d gone out with Taylor a couple weeks ago, something Michael had always avoided before. He didn’t even flinch when Craig introduced him as “my boyfriend.” Michael also agreed to meet Craig’s parents (after his mom’s not-so-subtle hints about it), which Craig knew must hurt, given his own parents’ reaction to finding Michael with Craig. So there was definite progress, Craig could see that. None of that stopped him from worrying, however.
Groaning, Craig rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He trusted Michael, but he didn’t think he’d ever fully get over that fear.
Shit. He needed a shower and some coffee and to shake off these maudlin thoughts.
Rolling out of bed, Craig stretched his arms over his head, then scratched his stomach, grimacing at the dried come he hadn’t bothered to clean up last night. Yeah, he definitely needed a shower first and joining Michael under the spray seemed like a really awesome idea. He stripped off his boxers and slipped into the shower.
Michael was slick and glistening, soapy rivulets of water running along the dips and hollows of his muscles. Craig stared for a moment, transfixed by the beauty of the man in front of him, mouth going dry and dick stirring between his legs. Most times, he couldn’t believe he had this in his life, Michael and the boys and everything that went them. It was like a dream.
“Hey,” Craig murmured, and Michael jumped, the bar of soap flying out of his hands to land on the floor with a loud thump. “Wow, I could totally make a joke about dropping the soap here.”
“You, uh, scared me,” Michael replied sheepishly, his blush evident even in the low lighting of the bathroom. “What are you doing here?”
“Groping you in the shower, of course,” Craig said and advanced on him to lay a hand flat on Michael’s hard chest. “Are you okay with that?”
“I-” Michael sucked in a breath when Craig brushed a fingertip over his nipple, dropping his head down and taking a step closer to Craig. “I think I can handle that.” His voice cracked on the last word, and Craig smirked at him.
“Good.”
He placed his mouth over Michael’s peaked nipple, licking and biting lightly, then moved over to give the other one the same treatment. Michael was restless under him, shifting on his feet and hands everywhere, not touching any one place for very long, hovering over Craig’s arms and hips and back. They finally settled, one on the back of his neck and the other wrapped around his waist. Craig lifted his head to kiss him, slow and sweet at first before sucking on his bottom lip and turning it wet and dirty. Michael whimpered into his mouth, and Craig took advantage of the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside Michael’s.
They kissed for a long time, deep, drugging kisses that weren’t really leading anywhere, just ratcheting up the arousal slowly. Michael was hard against his stomach, and Craig rocked his hips up in an irregular rhythm that had them both breathing harshly. Michael skimmed his hands down to cup Craig’s ass, kneading and dragging him closer. Craig rose up on his toes and combed his fingers through Michael’s tangled, wet hair.
“Shit. We should do this every morning,” Michael gasped, rutting against Craig harder, with more intent now.
Craig was definitely down with that. Too bad it would probably never happen. At least, not for a long time yet.
He shut Michael up with another kiss, sucking on his tongue. Michael traced a finger along the crack of Craig’s ass, then rubbed a finger against his entrance before easing it in past the knuckle. Craig jerked, shivered, his orgasm hitting him almost by surprise. A minute later, Michael thrust against him one last time before going still and crying out. They held each other while they calmed down, pressing warm, random kisses to slick skin. After, they cleaned each other off, though it took twice as long, since Craig couldn’t help caressing Michael’s skin and Michael was too busy kissing along his jawline to do much else.
Eventually, they managed to finish up, mostly because the water was ice cold and Craig’s teeth were chattering. Michael threw on some sweats and headed downstairs to make breakfast while Craig got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. It was nothing special, just eggs and bacon, but Michael had bought orange juice with the pulp specifically for Craig, and seeing the carton in the fridge caused something warm and heavy to settle low in Craig’s stomach.
“So, what should we do today?” Michael asked, rubbing the top of his foot along Craig’s ankle.
“Hmm.” Craig pretended to think about it for a long time, until Michael huffed in exasperation and kicked him. “Well, more of what happened last night and this morning.”
“That’s doable. But we’ve gotta take a break sometime.”
“I guess.” Craig pouted, but Michael simply rolled his eyes. “I’m just not used to having you to myself for so much time,” Craig admitted. The boys were at Courtney’s for a long weekend (because she’d missed the previous two weeks) and for once, Michael didn’t have to work and wasn’t on call. “I’ll be happy just to sit on the couch and watch TV together, Michael. More nakedness would just be a bonus.”
He laughed as Michael’s soft smile turned into a growl. Fisting a hand in Craig’s sweatshirt, Michael dragged him halfway across the table to kiss him. For all his fierce growling, he took it slowly, sliding his nose alongside Craig’s, tracing his fingertips over the arch of his brows and the sharp line of his jaw, brushing feather-light kisses to his cheeks and jaw and forehead, finally pressing their mouths together in a kiss so good Craig felt it all the way down to his toes.
Later, after trading hurried, incredible blowjobs, Craig offered to do the dishes, which Michael hardly argued with. When he was done, Craig stayed standing at the counter, staring out the window at the backyard. Michael walked in and wrapped his arms around Craig from behind. Craig leaned back into him and smiled as Michael kissed the side of his neck. They didn’t have many quiet mornings like this, mostly because of the boys and Michael’s job, and this was all still so new for them, being an actual, real couple. Craig soaked it in while he could.
“I love you,” Michael murmured, the words warm and soft against Craig’s skin.
Craig jerked, startled. He’d wanted to hear those words from Michael for so long, and he couldn’t quite believe they were real. He sniffed, and Michael tightened his arms around him.
“Are you crying?” he asked, amusement coloring his voice.
“Shut up,” Craig grumbled without much heat.
Laughing, Michael shifted Craig around to face him. “That’s my tough, manly mechanic,” he teased and kissed Craig’s forehead.
“Shut up,” he repeated, but Michael cut him off with a kiss, gently pressing his mouth to Craig’s.
Michael pulled back, kissing the corner of his mouth once before he said, “I love you.”
It sounded even better the second time.
“I love you, too. I always have.”
Their kiss was more heated this time but no less sweet. And it was a long time before they made it to the couch to watch TV.
***
A harried-looking Michael opened the door for Craig and waved him in. Kissing him distractedly, Michael was off and moving before Craig could even purse his lips.
“Sorry we’re running late. We had a milk spillage problem, which required Sam and I to both change while Johnny had a time out,” Michael explained from the kitchen. “Let me finish up in here, and we can go.”
“No problem. Don’t worry about it.”
“Uncle Craig, can you tie my shoes for me?”
“Sure, just h-” Craig stared down at the little boy in front of him with his mouth open for a minute before he recovered and shook himself. “Sam? Uh, of course, buddy. Just hop up on the coffee table for me.”
Sam crawled onto the table and held his shoes out for Craig to take. As he knelt on the floor, he caught Michael’s eye in the kitchen and saw the blinding smile on Michael’s face. Craig smiled back, then ducked his head to work on Sam’s shoes.
“There you go. All set.”
“Thanks, Uncle Craig!” Sam exclaimed, leaning forward to hug Craig.
“No problem, buddy.”
“Go get your coat on, okay?” Michael told him. “And do you know where your brother is?”
Sam shrugged. “Dunno.”
Craig watched him go, then turned to Michael with one eyebrow raised.
“It was just like you said. He woke up today talking like nothing ever happened. He’s still kinda quiet, but at least he’s talking.”
“That’s so great. Amazing, Michael, really.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Craig could see some of the previous months’ tension lift off Michael’s shoulders. His smile seemed easier, more like the incredible one Craig had fallen for all those years ago. He cupped the back of Michael’s neck and tugged him down into a kiss. He meant it to be gentle, just a quick brush of their lips, but they got carried away. By the time Michael pulled back, they were both panting harshly.
“Later,” Michael growled in his ear, voice laced with so many unspoken, dirty promises, and Craig shivered in anticipation.
Sam came back into the living room then, and they untangled themselves reluctantly. Sam leaned against Craig’s leg while Michael went in search of Johnny, idly playing with the zipper on Craig’s coat pocket. He’d learned to read Sam pretty well, had to with his silence, and he’d say Sam was…happy and relaxed, no longer carrying around the cloud of distress and grief that seemed to cling to him at times. He wondered what changed. He’d like to think he had something to do with it, but it was probably more to do with Michael’s new lighthearted and free attitude, since he wasn’t so afraid to be himself anymore. Craig was sure Sam picked up on that; he always knew when someone was upset.
Michael walked in with a sullen Johnny trudging behind him, though he perked up when he saw Craig. He hurried over for their usual high five and hair ruffling, and Michael rolled his eyes from the doorway.
“Come on, boys. We don’t want to be late for kickoff,” Michael said, trying to herd them all out the door.
“I wanna hotdog!” Sam piped up.
“Well, duh. We always get hotdogs at the stadium, Sammy,” Johnny answered with a long-suffering sigh, like little brothers were such a pain. He certainly wasn’t overly excited to have Sam talking again.
Craig smiled and squeezed the hand Sam slipped into his.
It was a perfect fall day, chilly but clear. Good football weather. Craig, Michael, and the boys filed into The Shoe with the rest of the fans and found their seats. They barely reached their seats and sat down before Johnny started complaining about being hungry and Sam squirmed in the universal I-have-to-pee-but-don’t-want-to-leave-in-case-I-miss-something dance. Michael took Sam to the restroom, while Craig went with Johnny to wait in the interminable concession line. Johnny changed his mind every other step about what he wanted to get, a hotdog or nachos or a pretzel, and in the end, they just got everything. The game was about to start, so they quickly walked back to their seats, as quickly as they could lade down with food and drinks anyway.
This was the second game Craig had been to with Michael and the boys. Michael liked football, but he wasn’t a big fan like Craig was. They were mainly there for the boys, who thought going to the stadium was the best thing in world. They wouldn’t care if they were watching a football game or lame concert. They got to eat stadium food and scream along with 60,000 other people. Not that Sam did much screaming. He still stayed relatively quiet, letting Johnny do most of the talking. Compared to before, though, Sam was a chatterbox. It made Craig grin every time Sam opened his mouth, and Craig caught the same happy expression on Michael’s face several times.
Sam spent the game sitting on their laps, whichever one allowed him a better view at the time. Craig’s heart hammered with pleasure every time Sam crawled over to him. It was cheesy and not something Craig ever imagined for his life, but he felt like a family with these three people. In a packed stadium, Michael and the boys were the only ones that mattered to him. With Sam on his lap and Johnny balanced on the stands between him and Michael, Craig couldn’t imagine being happier or more content with the way things turned out.
Ohio State lost, but that didn’t seem to diminish the boys’ enjoyment at all. As they emptied out of the stadium with the rest of the subdued crowd, Johnny even pumped his fist and declared, “That was awesome!” Sam nodded his agreement, a wide grin stretching across his face. Craig had been upset about the loss until he saw that, his mood lifting with Johnny and Sam’s excitement. Football took a backseat to their happiness.
As usual, Sam fell asleep in the car on the way back, and Johnny chattered the whole time, rehashing the game and everything he ate or whatever else popped into that odd little head of his. After he backed out of the parking spot, Michael moved his hand off the gear shift to squeeze Craig’s thigh, then threaded their fingers together. Which was not even close to usual for them. Not in semi-public. Not with the boys in the car. Craig stared slack-jawed at their joined hands for several moments before shaking himself and smiling. As Michael smiled back, Craig realized he finally had everything he’d ever wanted.
***
Craig felt like an idiot, standing outside Michael’s door with both hands full of presents and his blue snowman pajamas on under his coat. It was ridiculous. He was a grown man, not a little kid. But Michael insisted it was tradition for his parents to buy everyone new pajamas for Christmas and wear them while opening presents. Seriously, Craig needed to learn to tell that man no.
Sighing, Craig managed to hit the doorbell with his elbow. He felt better when Michael opened the door wearing his own similar pair of pajamas, only his were red and had candy canes all over them. Michael beamed at him and reached out to take one of the piles of presents from him. Leaning forward, he cupped Craig’s cheek and brushed his lips in a brief, sweet kiss.
“Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, smiling wider.
“Merry Christmas,” Craig replied, his own smile automatically tipping up to rival Michael’s in brightness.
As they walked down the hall, Craig heard Sam’s yell of “Craig’s here!” followed closely by Johnny’s enthusiastic “Now we can open presents!” Craig snorted, and Michael rolled his eyes, shaking his head. When they got to the living room, they placed the presents under the tree with two very impatient boys eyeing everything curiously. Craig shrugged out of his coat and smiled as Johnny knelt by the tree, inspecting each package to find the ones for him. Johnny had on green Christmas tree pajamas, while Sam’s were red with Rudolph.
“Gimme a hug,” Craig demanded, “Or you guys won’t get any presents.” Sam immediately bounced over and climbed up him to wrap his arms around Craig’s neck, but Johnny huffed in exasperation first, rolling his eyes. He knew an empty threat when he heard one. He did come over, though, and gave Craig a tight hug. Craig ran a hand through Johnny’s thick, dark hair, then laughed when Sam planted a loud, wet, messy kiss on his cheek.
“Can we do presents now?” Johnny asked, voice whiny. He pulled away from Craig and turned pleading eyes on Michael. “Please, Daddy?”
“Oh, all right. I suppose,” Michael replied, shrugging casually.
Johnny whooped and dove for the tree, and Craig set Sam down so he could follow his brother. Craig wondered what time the boys had dragged Michael out of bed this morning and how he’d kept them distracted enough to wait till Craig arrived. They were actually showing remarkable restraint, considering. Johnny was sorting the presents into piles or, more precisely, gathering all his presents around himself and shoving everything else toward Sam, who was crowded close to Johnny’s shoulder.
He and Michael settled cross-legged near the tree while the boys did their thing. Michael slid an arm across Craig’s shoulders and kissed his temple. Craig leaned back into his chest, a warm, happy feeling washing through him. He’d hesitated when the boys asked him to come for Christmas- he didn’t want to intrude on their family time, and he wasn’t sure how his mom would take him skipping out on the big Macrae celebration. But he couldn’t say no to their sweet little faces, and his mom had been pretty understanding about the whole thing, as long as he’d promised to come over on Christmas Eve and to bring Michael and the boys over sometime the next week. And now, watching Johnny hurriedly reading the names on the gift tags and Sam practically vibrating with excitement, with Michael close and solid next to him, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Once they had all the presents separated, Johnny and Sam began tearing into them. Johnny ripped the wrapping paper off and tossed it aside, heedless of anything else. He almost whacked Sam in the head with a flailing arm a couple of times, but neither of them noticed. Sam opened his a little more carefully but no less enthusiastically. They both crowed happily every time they opened something, whether it was a toy or a new pair of jeans, and Johnny literally fist pumped when he got a video game he’d been incessantly begging Michael for.
Once they calmed down and he and Michael had helped the boys open all their new toys, Sam crawled most of the way under the tree and came back out with a package. It was an odd shape and looked like Sam had wrapped it himself, if the crooked paper and excessive amount of tape were anything to go by. Sam stopped in front of Craig, grinning.
“Is this for me?” Craig asked, and Sam nodded excitedly, a lock of his hair falling over his forehead. Craig brushed the hair out of Sam’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Open it!” Johnny urged, kneeling beside Sam. “Me and Sam made it all by ourselves. Uh, Daddy helped, but it was mostly just us.”
Craig took the misshapen package from Sam and tore at the paper. Inside the box was a plate, the kind that you made and drew on at those ceramic stores. It was obvious which parts Johnny had worked on and which ones were Sam’s. A lot of it was unintelligible, random doodles, but the center picture captured all his attention. Four colorful stick figures, two little ones and two disproportionately tall ones, each drawing labeled with their names. He stroked his thumb over the “Uncle Craig,” blinking back tears as his heart lodged in his throat. He swallowed around the lump and glanced up at the boys’ expectant faces.
“I love it, guys. Thank you.”
“Welcome,” they replied in unison, both of them beaming proudly.
Craig set the plate to the side and gathered them in for a hug. His breath hitched, and more tears gathered in his eyes when he caught the soft and tender expression on Michael’s face.
It was Michael’s turn to open presents after that. Johnny gave him a new Ohio State stethoscope, which made Craig snort in amusement. Johnny and Sam played with their new toys for awhile, until it was time to change and wait for Courtney to show up. Craig expected her to be late as usual. While the boys were in their rooms, he tracked Michael down in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around Michael from behind and kissed the spot behind his ear. Michael turned to face him and kissed him properly, slow and sweet.
“So, the boys’ pajamas,” Craig started slowly when they pulled away, not sure how to bring up this touchy subject. “Does this mean you’ve heard from your parents?”
Michael’s face creased into a frown as he shook his head. “No, and I don’t really expect to. The boys knew Christmas would be different this year, with going to see Courtney and everything, but getting new pajamas is tradition. I had to keep it up, and Johnny and Sam won’t know the difference.”
“I’m sorry. I wish things could be different.” He cupped Michael’s cheek, and Michael leaned into it, closing his eyes.
With visible effort, Michael opened his eyes and smiled. It trembled on the edges, but it was there.
“You know what?” he said. “It doesn’t matter. I have the boys, and I have you. As far as I’m concerned, this is the best Christmas I could ever hope for.”
Craig grinned and softly pressed his mouth to Michael’s. It was just getting interesting when the doorbell rang. Groaning, Michael briefly rested his forehead against Craig’s and grimaced. Craig stroked his cheek, then stepped back as footsteps pounded into the living room.
“Mom’s here!” Johnny exclaimed, rushing to the door.
Sam followed more slowly, dragging his suitcase behind him. It was nearly as tall as he was and kept listing to the side, but Sam had his determined face on, so Craig knew to stay back and let him do it on his own. He stood quietly by the couch while Johnny let their mom in. Craig had heard plenty about her from Michael and some from Johnny, had seen pictures of her, but he still wasn’t prepared for the reality of standing in the same room with her. He took the opportunity to study her while she quickly hugged the boys, before she noticed him next to Michael. She was tiny and petite, with dark hair cut into soft layers and Sam’s big blue eyes, and he supposed very pretty, if you liked women. She held herself a little stiffly, though, even while hugging a chattering Johnny, and her smile was pinched on the edges. But maybe he was looking for these flaws. It was difficult not to after what Michael had told him.
He didn’t expect the sharp stab of jealousy seeing her caused. Whether Craig liked it or not and regardless of how their marriage had ended, she’d still been a part of Michael’s life, had given him something Craig never could, and gotten to have Michael for those seven years that Craig missed out on.
Shaking his head, Craig pushed all that down. Michael was with him now. Forever, if Craig had anything to say about it.
Johnny ran off to gather his stuff, and Courtney finally acknowledged them with a brief nod. Craig held little sympathy for this woman who so casually abandoned her sons, but it must be awkward meeting your ex-husband’s new boyfriend. He could be polite, for Michael’s sake if nothing else. Michael introduced them, but they didn’t talk beyond that, which was probably for the best.
When Johnny returned with his suitcase, bulging slightly with the new toys he’d no doubt stuffed into it at the last minute, Michael knelt down and gathered the boys close to him. Sam burrowed into Michael’s shoulder, crowding in close.
“You boys be good, okay? I’ll see you in a couple days,” Michael said, and both boys nodded.
They came to him next, and Craig noticed Courtney’s eyes widen when they called him Uncle Craig, a wave of satisfaction zinging through him. Though, all told, it was pretty anti-climatic finally coming face-to-face with Michael’s ex. There were more hugs and goodbyes, and Michael stood at the front window watching them leave till the car disappeared around the corner. After, Michael collapsed onto the couch with a long sigh, pulling Craig down with him and nuzzling against his neck.
“Hey,” Craig said, running a soothing hand through Michael’s thick hair. “I didn’t give you your present yet.”
“I don’t need a present, Craig. I have you. That’s enough,” Michael told him.
Craig rolled his eyes, then smiled as Michael huffed at him. “That was total cheese, man. It’s a good thing I already love you.”
Michael shifted around and cupped Craig’s face, smiling softly. “Love you,” he murmured, feathering light kisses over Craig’s mouth and jaw.
“I love you, too.”
THE END
“Kitchen!” Michael yelled back.
He was cleaning up the remains of breakfast when Craig found him, grimacing at a particular spot on the table. “Johnny spill his milk again?” Craig asked, resting his arms on the island.
“Of course. If he’d stop slurping, we wouldn’t have this trouble.”
Craig snorted. Michael obviously didn’t realize he slurped his cereal as well, and that was where Johnny got it from. Michael threw the dishrag into the sink and came over to him, smiling. Craig pulled him down into a kiss, hand automatically going to the bare skin revealed where his shirt bunched up.
“Hey,” Michael mumbled against his mouth.
“Hey.” He stepped back but continued to stroke his side. “You ready to go?”
“Sure, but you’re not.”
“Hmm?”
“Your collar’s all jacked up. Didn’t you check a mirror before you left?” Smiling fondly, Michael reached out to fix his collar, straightening it out and making sure it laid down flat.
Craig rolled his eyes. “I’m a mechanic, not a fashion aficionado.”
He smirked. “And yet you know the term fashion aficionado.”
“Shut up,” Craig grumbled. “Boys get to Courtney’s okay?”
“Yeah, she actually showed up on time for once. I like it better when she picks them up after school.”
“I know, but she can’t help having to do an emergency shift at work.” Craig had doubted the validity of that at first, since she often came up with excuses for missing her weekends with Johnny and Sam. He couldn’t imagine not wanting to spend time with those boys. They were sweet and loving and smart and, yeah, a handful sometimes, but they were amazing kids. Michael believed her story, though, so Craig chose not to speak out against her.
“Yeah. It’s just-” He cut himself off, frowning.
“What?”
“I realize they have to see their mom, but it’s always so quiet here without them.”
Which was all Johnny’s fault, of course. Craig wondered if he was that noisy before or if he unconsciously compensated for Sam’s silence by being even louder.
“Well, we’ll just have to make our own noise later,” Craig suggested, going for an over-the-top leer.
Michael laughed, which was Craig’s goal, and kissed him. “You always know just what I need.”
“Yep,” he replied smugly, and Michael gently brushed his fingertips over Craig’s cheek.
“We should-”
“Michael Alan Calavicci, what are you doing with that man?”
Michael’s head snapped up at the unexpected shriek, and he hurriedly jumped away from Craig.
“Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?” he asked with a mostly convincing air of casualness. His hand shook when he ran it through his hair, though.
“We thought we’d take the boys to the park,” his dad answered, eyeing them both while his mom glared at them.
“This is their weekend with Courtney. I told you that.”
His mom ignored their conversation. “Do you let him do that to you?”
“Do what?” Michael crossed his arms and backed into the island. Cracks were starting to show in his brittle wall of calm- shoulders tense, slight tremors at the corners of his mouth, eyes wide with fear.
“Touch you like that?” She waved a hand vaguely. Craig forced down an absurd urge to point out Michael had been touching him as well.
Biting his lip, Michael closed his eyes for a few heartbeats. Craig could see the battle on his face, whether to deny everything or tell the truth, and he honestly had no idea which way Michael would go. Suzanne continued to glare at them, and Tony didn’t look much happier.
“Yes,” Michael said finally. His voice began as a barely audible whisper, but gained strength as he went along. “Yes, I let him touch me and kiss me and do things to me that’d probably make your hair curl.”
“Michael, how could you?” Suzanne put a hand to her heart, clearly scandalized and appalled, and took a large step away from him.
Michael swallowed and swayed a little, despite resting most of his weight against the island. “Mom-”
“You can’t be gay. I refuse to believe my son is gay.”
“I’m not gay,” Michael insisted, and she gave him an uncertain look mixed with hope. “I don’t know what I am, exactly. Bisexual maybe or…I don’t know. But I’m with Craig, and he makes me happy, Mom.” His eyes flicked to Craig briefly, and Craig smiled gently.
He wanted to go to Michael, wrap his arms around him and let him know he was loved and not alone. But he hung back; Michael needed to do this on his own. It seemed so bizarre to have this confrontation in Michael’s bright and sunny kitchen. It should be dark or raining, something to reflect Michael’s turmoil and his parents’ disapproval.
“No.” She shook her head. “No. You weren’t raised this way. You know it’s a sin to lie with another man.”
“The way I was raised? That’s what’s wrong!” Michael slammed his fist on the counter, and everyone jerked in surprise. “You made me afraid to be myself! You made me hate myself and live this dark, half-life! I hurt people because I was denying who I really am!”
“This is not who you are! It can’t be. Something happened to make you think this is okay when it’s not.”
Tony turned to Craig suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You. It was you, wasn’t it? You corrupted our son with your sick, depraved attentions. It’s immoral and evil, and you should be ashamed of yourself for doing this to a good, honest man.”
“Don’t you dare talk to him like that!” Michael yelled. Suzanne flinched at the hard tone and took another step away from Michael. “He’s a good person. The best. And he loves me, all of me, not just the pretty parts that fit in with your outdated ideals. Why can’t you accept me for the way I am?” The last was said a lot lower, laced with pain and regret.
“It’s wrong,” Suzanne insisted. “In the eyes of the Lord, it’s wrong.”
“It’s never wrong to love another person, whether it’s a man or woman.”
“I just don’t understand why you would choose to live this way.”
“Choose?” He laughed humorlessly. “You think I’d choose to be ridiculed and cursed at and told I’m going to hell? This isn’t a lifestyle, Mom. It’s who I am.”
“It’s unacceptable.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Until you choose to follow your faith and upbringing, you are no longer our son.”
Michael’s head whipped up, and he jerked, as if from a blow. “Mom,” he choked out.
This was all Michael’s fears made real, played out in Technicolor, and Craig bit his lip on the angry words building in his throat.
“You heard her,” Tony stated. “You’re no longer our son.”
“You don’t mean that. You can’t-”
“We’ll show ourselves out,” Tony announced, like Michael had never spoken.
A minute later, they were gone. Craig waited a beat, then hurriedly crossed to Michael. Craig gripped his shoulder, saying his name tentatively.
“I just came out to my parents,” Michael whispered, voice almost devoid of emotion.
“I know. It’s okay, Michael. I know it hurts, but at least it’s out there now. You can be true to yourself for once.”
“Oh, God. I just came out to my parents!” Michael turned to Craig with an expression of shock mixed with pain. Tears were pooling in his eyes, making them shine even darker. Craig wrapped his arms around his shaking body, and Michael stifled a sob against his neck. His tears fell hot on Craig’s skin, and Craig closed his own eyes, feeling Michael’s grief as if it were his own.
His parents always supported and loved him, helped him when he struggled and were always there for him. He couldn’t understand how anyone could treat their children in that way.
“Thank you.” Michael sniffed after awhile, rubbing his face against Craig’s shoulder.
“You’re welcome.” Craig kissed Michael’s cheek and held him tighter. “Hey, come on. Let’s sit.”
Michael nodded, and they shuffled into the living room and over to the couch together. Michael curled in his arms, crying quietly. Craig stroked his hair and his back, murmuring random words, trying his best to soothe him. He ached for Michael, wished he could do something more besides hold him and say inane things. If he thought it’d do any good, he’d go after Tony and Suzanne and give them a piece of his mind. Yell at them and attempt to beat into their thick skulls that Michael was perfect the way he was. That they were the ones losing out by walking away from Michael.
Eventually, Michael pulled away and sat up, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. His eyes were red and puffy, and it killed Craig to see him like that.
“Feeling any better?” he asked tentatively.
“Not really, no,” Michael admitted, but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’ll be okay. Either they’ll get over it and accept you or-”
“I’ll learn to deal with it?”
“At least you’re being honest now. You don’t have to hide who you are anymore.”
“Yeah.” Michael didn’t sound very convinced. Craig knew it would take a long time for him to come to terms with what happened.
“I’m so sorry,” he told Michael. “If there was anything I could do to make it better, I would.”
“I know. And thank you.” He kissed Craig briefly, then sighed and laid his head on the back of the couch. “I just cut two more people out of my kids’ lives. It was horrible after Courtney left, and now they’ve lost their grandparents.”
Craig cupped Michael’s face, gently caressing his cheeks. “They have you, and I happen to think you’re pretty fantastic.”
“And you. They also have you,” Michael said quietly.
“Yes, they do,” Craig agreed and kissed him, soft and sweet. “I’m proud of you. That took guts, man.”
“I don’t know about that. It all just exploded out of me. I still feel like I’m gonna be sick.”
“It’ll be okay,” Craig repeated. Maybe if he said it enough, they’d both believe it.
***
“So what are you doing on Sunday?” Michael asked.
Craig glanced up from the engine he was messing with. It was quiet in the garage this close to the end of the day, only Evan in a back corner working on a Toyota’s brakes. It’d been a relatively slow day, and he’d been embarrassingly happy when Michael showed up 20 minutes ago to keep him company until closing and the movie they planned to go to.
The garage was still his baby, and he loved working on cars just as much as always. But lately he’d been stepping back some on dealing with day-to-day operations and letting Evan take over more responsibility. Craig still put in 60-plus hours a week- he was a bit of a work-a-holic and loved it too much to cut his hours back more than that. He took most Saturdays off, though, to spend time with Michael and the boys. His focus had definitely shifted since Michael came back into his life.
“Sleeping in and being lazy,” Craig replied easily. “Why?”
“Do you want to come over for dinner?”
Craig wondered what made this Sunday different from all the other days and meals he’d spent with Michael and the boys. Michael’s tone was light and casual, but his body language gave away how important this was to Michael. His shoulders were tense as he fiddled awkwardly with the tools on the workbench, and he kept breaking eye contact with Craig.
“Of course I’ll come,” Craig assured him. “I didn’t forget one of the boy’s birthdays, did I?” Michael smiled at that, knowing as well as Craig that he’d never forget anything concerning Johnny and Sam.
“No. It’s a, uh, reinstating of a tradition.” Michael picked up a wrench, then immediately put it back, flushing slightly at Craig’s raised eyebrow. “It was always a tradition in my family to have macaroni on Sunday, the whole time I was growing up and after. I kept it up with the boys and then all the shit with Courtney and the divorce went down. We moved, and Sam quit talking, and a lot of things got brushed aside. After what happened with my parents… I don’t know, I just want the boys to have as much stability as possible, even if it’s something silly like having macaroni every Sunday.”
“Michael.” Craig’s chest ached for everything Michael lost this past year. Where was his breaking point? Craig hoped they’d never have to find out. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. I’m okay,” Michael insisted, and Craig dropped his hand halfway to Michael’s cheek. “Just come on Sunday.”
Craig was usually careful about not bringing up the subject of Michael’s parents. He knew it still hurt Michael, despite his claims of being all right. He’d been a little quieter lately and doing things like this macaroni dinner, as if he were trying to hold on harder to the people he still had in his life. It hurt Craig to see Michael like that, but he didn’t know how to help him. All he could do was prove to Michael that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ll be there, though I can’t believe you have a macaroni tradition,” he teased, and Michael pouted adorably.
“Hey! It’s homemade, with special cheeses and stuff, not just the lame Kraft in a box crap.”
“Oh, homemade. I’ll definitely be there then. With bells on even.”
“Asshole,” Michael accused, but he said it with such affection, it was like a caress across Craig’s skin.
On Sunday, Craig did his customary two knocks on Michael’s door before walking inside. He found Michael in the kitchen, ostensibly cooking, but looking more like he was just creating a huge mess. Dirty pots and pans laid everywhere, crowded into the double sink and spread all over the counters. Michael stood in the middle of it at the stove, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt that pulled tight across his broad shoulders. Craig leaned against the doorway and watched him for a couple minutes, taking in the play of muscles in his back as he stirred something and the easy way he stood there, barefoot and loose-limbed.
Michael turned to grab something off the counter next to him and finally spotted Craig, his whole face lighting up. “Hey!”
“Hey. Nice apron,” Craig mentioned, swallowing back a laugh at Michael’s frilly white apron, “Kiss me, I’m Italian” emblazoned across the front in green and red.
“Shut up. It was a gift from Johnny and Sam.”
“It’s cute.”
Wrapping a hand around the back of Michael’s neck, Craig tugged him down into a kiss. Michael smiled against his mouth and pulled him back in when Craig went to step away. A slight acrid smell alerted them to the burning pot, Michael jumping away with a curse to save their dinner.
“Do you need help with anything?” Craig asked, glancing around the disaster area of the kitchen. Clean up would be a bitch.
“No, thanks. I’ve got it. If you can go outside and round up the boys, though? It should be ready soon.”
“Sure. It smells awesome, by the way.”
Michael grinned in thanks, then shooed Craig outside.
The boys were in the middle of an elaborate game of pirates that they immediately dropped in favor of crawling all over him instead. Craig collapsed to the ground with an exaggerated oof, which made Johnny giggle. He let them have the upper hand for a couple minutes before he grabbed them. Surging to his feet with a little boy under each arm, he carried them inside the still-open backdoor and gently tossed them on the couch. Sam bounced and landed halfway in Johnny’s lap, both of them red-faced and grinning widely.
“Go wash up, okay, guys? Food’s almost ready,” Craig told them, and the boys nodded. Sam tried to tickle him as he stepped back, but Craig jumped away from him, pointing an accusing finger at him and mock-glaring. Which only caused them to giggle more.
Craig left them to go clean up and joined Michael in the kitchen again. “Your sons are brats,” he said, resting back against the counter by the stove and crossing his arms.
Michael snorted, then leaned over to kiss Craig softly. Craig heard Johnny and Sam shuffling into the kitchen and tried to pull away, knowing how wary Michael was about the boys seeing them like that, but Michael held on firmly, not letting him get far.
“Michael,” he murmured.
“They have to get used to this, to us,” he answered just as quietly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of Craig’s mouth. “Because I plan on you being around more. A lot more.”
Craig couldn’t keep the goofy smile off his face at that, and an answering smile curved the corners of Michael’s mouth up. “Okay,” Craig said and kissed him, just because he could now.
Johnny interrupted them by banging his fork on the table and shouting, “We want food! We want food!”
“Ugh. Craig’s right. You guys are brats,” Michael groaned, playfully ruffling Johnny’s hair, who ducked away, laughing and still demanding food.
Michael grabbed the pot off the stove to serve the macaroni, which finally got Johnny to be quiet. Sam knelt on his chair to reach the right height over the table, since he was still too small otherwise and had lately refused to use his booster seat. He watched avidly as Michael spooned macaroni onto his plate and dug in as soon as Michael moved away, Johnny doing the same when Michael served him. Craig understood why a minute later when he tried his first forkful.
“Wow. This is incredible,” Craig told him, swallowing another mouthful. The pasta was the perfect consistency, not overcooked like his mom often did, and the different flavors of the cheeses burst on his tongue.
“Thanks.” Michael smiled at him, this soft, private smile that made Craig’s heart stutter for a few beats.
Craig glanced around the table, at the boys shoveling macaroni into their mouths to the exclusion of everything else around them and at Michael gazing steadily back at him. It sounded cheesy, even in his own head, but he hoped this was the first of many traditions he’d be a part of with Michael and the boys.
***
Craig woke up to an empty bed. Noises from the bathroom quelled his momentary panic. Things were good between them now, yes, but there was always a small part of him that worried, that was convinced Michael would change his mind and decide it was too hard to be with him. That he was better off married to a woman, so he could have his parents back in his life.
Things were better, Craig reminded himself. They’d gone out with Taylor a couple weeks ago, something Michael had always avoided before. He didn’t even flinch when Craig introduced him as “my boyfriend.” Michael also agreed to meet Craig’s parents (after his mom’s not-so-subtle hints about it), which Craig knew must hurt, given his own parents’ reaction to finding Michael with Craig. So there was definite progress, Craig could see that. None of that stopped him from worrying, however.
Groaning, Craig rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He trusted Michael, but he didn’t think he’d ever fully get over that fear.
Shit. He needed a shower and some coffee and to shake off these maudlin thoughts.
Rolling out of bed, Craig stretched his arms over his head, then scratched his stomach, grimacing at the dried come he hadn’t bothered to clean up last night. Yeah, he definitely needed a shower first and joining Michael under the spray seemed like a really awesome idea. He stripped off his boxers and slipped into the shower.
Michael was slick and glistening, soapy rivulets of water running along the dips and hollows of his muscles. Craig stared for a moment, transfixed by the beauty of the man in front of him, mouth going dry and dick stirring between his legs. Most times, he couldn’t believe he had this in his life, Michael and the boys and everything that went them. It was like a dream.
“Hey,” Craig murmured, and Michael jumped, the bar of soap flying out of his hands to land on the floor with a loud thump. “Wow, I could totally make a joke about dropping the soap here.”
“You, uh, scared me,” Michael replied sheepishly, his blush evident even in the low lighting of the bathroom. “What are you doing here?”
“Groping you in the shower, of course,” Craig said and advanced on him to lay a hand flat on Michael’s hard chest. “Are you okay with that?”
“I-” Michael sucked in a breath when Craig brushed a fingertip over his nipple, dropping his head down and taking a step closer to Craig. “I think I can handle that.” His voice cracked on the last word, and Craig smirked at him.
“Good.”
He placed his mouth over Michael’s peaked nipple, licking and biting lightly, then moved over to give the other one the same treatment. Michael was restless under him, shifting on his feet and hands everywhere, not touching any one place for very long, hovering over Craig’s arms and hips and back. They finally settled, one on the back of his neck and the other wrapped around his waist. Craig lifted his head to kiss him, slow and sweet at first before sucking on his bottom lip and turning it wet and dirty. Michael whimpered into his mouth, and Craig took advantage of the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside Michael’s.
They kissed for a long time, deep, drugging kisses that weren’t really leading anywhere, just ratcheting up the arousal slowly. Michael was hard against his stomach, and Craig rocked his hips up in an irregular rhythm that had them both breathing harshly. Michael skimmed his hands down to cup Craig’s ass, kneading and dragging him closer. Craig rose up on his toes and combed his fingers through Michael’s tangled, wet hair.
“Shit. We should do this every morning,” Michael gasped, rutting against Craig harder, with more intent now.
Craig was definitely down with that. Too bad it would probably never happen. At least, not for a long time yet.
He shut Michael up with another kiss, sucking on his tongue. Michael traced a finger along the crack of Craig’s ass, then rubbed a finger against his entrance before easing it in past the knuckle. Craig jerked, shivered, his orgasm hitting him almost by surprise. A minute later, Michael thrust against him one last time before going still and crying out. They held each other while they calmed down, pressing warm, random kisses to slick skin. After, they cleaned each other off, though it took twice as long, since Craig couldn’t help caressing Michael’s skin and Michael was too busy kissing along his jawline to do much else.
Eventually, they managed to finish up, mostly because the water was ice cold and Craig’s teeth were chattering. Michael threw on some sweats and headed downstairs to make breakfast while Craig got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. It was nothing special, just eggs and bacon, but Michael had bought orange juice with the pulp specifically for Craig, and seeing the carton in the fridge caused something warm and heavy to settle low in Craig’s stomach.
“So, what should we do today?” Michael asked, rubbing the top of his foot along Craig’s ankle.
“Hmm.” Craig pretended to think about it for a long time, until Michael huffed in exasperation and kicked him. “Well, more of what happened last night and this morning.”
“That’s doable. But we’ve gotta take a break sometime.”
“I guess.” Craig pouted, but Michael simply rolled his eyes. “I’m just not used to having you to myself for so much time,” Craig admitted. The boys were at Courtney’s for a long weekend (because she’d missed the previous two weeks) and for once, Michael didn’t have to work and wasn’t on call. “I’ll be happy just to sit on the couch and watch TV together, Michael. More nakedness would just be a bonus.”
He laughed as Michael’s soft smile turned into a growl. Fisting a hand in Craig’s sweatshirt, Michael dragged him halfway across the table to kiss him. For all his fierce growling, he took it slowly, sliding his nose alongside Craig’s, tracing his fingertips over the arch of his brows and the sharp line of his jaw, brushing feather-light kisses to his cheeks and jaw and forehead, finally pressing their mouths together in a kiss so good Craig felt it all the way down to his toes.
Later, after trading hurried, incredible blowjobs, Craig offered to do the dishes, which Michael hardly argued with. When he was done, Craig stayed standing at the counter, staring out the window at the backyard. Michael walked in and wrapped his arms around Craig from behind. Craig leaned back into him and smiled as Michael kissed the side of his neck. They didn’t have many quiet mornings like this, mostly because of the boys and Michael’s job, and this was all still so new for them, being an actual, real couple. Craig soaked it in while he could.
“I love you,” Michael murmured, the words warm and soft against Craig’s skin.
Craig jerked, startled. He’d wanted to hear those words from Michael for so long, and he couldn’t quite believe they were real. He sniffed, and Michael tightened his arms around him.
“Are you crying?” he asked, amusement coloring his voice.
“Shut up,” Craig grumbled without much heat.
Laughing, Michael shifted Craig around to face him. “That’s my tough, manly mechanic,” he teased and kissed Craig’s forehead.
“Shut up,” he repeated, but Michael cut him off with a kiss, gently pressing his mouth to Craig’s.
Michael pulled back, kissing the corner of his mouth once before he said, “I love you.”
It sounded even better the second time.
“I love you, too. I always have.”
Their kiss was more heated this time but no less sweet. And it was a long time before they made it to the couch to watch TV.
***
A harried-looking Michael opened the door for Craig and waved him in. Kissing him distractedly, Michael was off and moving before Craig could even purse his lips.
“Sorry we’re running late. We had a milk spillage problem, which required Sam and I to both change while Johnny had a time out,” Michael explained from the kitchen. “Let me finish up in here, and we can go.”
“No problem. Don’t worry about it.”
“Uncle Craig, can you tie my shoes for me?”
“Sure, just h-” Craig stared down at the little boy in front of him with his mouth open for a minute before he recovered and shook himself. “Sam? Uh, of course, buddy. Just hop up on the coffee table for me.”
Sam crawled onto the table and held his shoes out for Craig to take. As he knelt on the floor, he caught Michael’s eye in the kitchen and saw the blinding smile on Michael’s face. Craig smiled back, then ducked his head to work on Sam’s shoes.
“There you go. All set.”
“Thanks, Uncle Craig!” Sam exclaimed, leaning forward to hug Craig.
“No problem, buddy.”
“Go get your coat on, okay?” Michael told him. “And do you know where your brother is?”
Sam shrugged. “Dunno.”
Craig watched him go, then turned to Michael with one eyebrow raised.
“It was just like you said. He woke up today talking like nothing ever happened. He’s still kinda quiet, but at least he’s talking.”
“That’s so great. Amazing, Michael, really.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Craig could see some of the previous months’ tension lift off Michael’s shoulders. His smile seemed easier, more like the incredible one Craig had fallen for all those years ago. He cupped the back of Michael’s neck and tugged him down into a kiss. He meant it to be gentle, just a quick brush of their lips, but they got carried away. By the time Michael pulled back, they were both panting harshly.
“Later,” Michael growled in his ear, voice laced with so many unspoken, dirty promises, and Craig shivered in anticipation.
Sam came back into the living room then, and they untangled themselves reluctantly. Sam leaned against Craig’s leg while Michael went in search of Johnny, idly playing with the zipper on Craig’s coat pocket. He’d learned to read Sam pretty well, had to with his silence, and he’d say Sam was…happy and relaxed, no longer carrying around the cloud of distress and grief that seemed to cling to him at times. He wondered what changed. He’d like to think he had something to do with it, but it was probably more to do with Michael’s new lighthearted and free attitude, since he wasn’t so afraid to be himself anymore. Craig was sure Sam picked up on that; he always knew when someone was upset.
Michael walked in with a sullen Johnny trudging behind him, though he perked up when he saw Craig. He hurried over for their usual high five and hair ruffling, and Michael rolled his eyes from the doorway.
“Come on, boys. We don’t want to be late for kickoff,” Michael said, trying to herd them all out the door.
“I wanna hotdog!” Sam piped up.
“Well, duh. We always get hotdogs at the stadium, Sammy,” Johnny answered with a long-suffering sigh, like little brothers were such a pain. He certainly wasn’t overly excited to have Sam talking again.
Craig smiled and squeezed the hand Sam slipped into his.
It was a perfect fall day, chilly but clear. Good football weather. Craig, Michael, and the boys filed into The Shoe with the rest of the fans and found their seats. They barely reached their seats and sat down before Johnny started complaining about being hungry and Sam squirmed in the universal I-have-to-pee-but-don’t-want-to-leave-in-case-I-miss-something dance. Michael took Sam to the restroom, while Craig went with Johnny to wait in the interminable concession line. Johnny changed his mind every other step about what he wanted to get, a hotdog or nachos or a pretzel, and in the end, they just got everything. The game was about to start, so they quickly walked back to their seats, as quickly as they could lade down with food and drinks anyway.
This was the second game Craig had been to with Michael and the boys. Michael liked football, but he wasn’t a big fan like Craig was. They were mainly there for the boys, who thought going to the stadium was the best thing in world. They wouldn’t care if they were watching a football game or lame concert. They got to eat stadium food and scream along with 60,000 other people. Not that Sam did much screaming. He still stayed relatively quiet, letting Johnny do most of the talking. Compared to before, though, Sam was a chatterbox. It made Craig grin every time Sam opened his mouth, and Craig caught the same happy expression on Michael’s face several times.
Sam spent the game sitting on their laps, whichever one allowed him a better view at the time. Craig’s heart hammered with pleasure every time Sam crawled over to him. It was cheesy and not something Craig ever imagined for his life, but he felt like a family with these three people. In a packed stadium, Michael and the boys were the only ones that mattered to him. With Sam on his lap and Johnny balanced on the stands between him and Michael, Craig couldn’t imagine being happier or more content with the way things turned out.
Ohio State lost, but that didn’t seem to diminish the boys’ enjoyment at all. As they emptied out of the stadium with the rest of the subdued crowd, Johnny even pumped his fist and declared, “That was awesome!” Sam nodded his agreement, a wide grin stretching across his face. Craig had been upset about the loss until he saw that, his mood lifting with Johnny and Sam’s excitement. Football took a backseat to their happiness.
As usual, Sam fell asleep in the car on the way back, and Johnny chattered the whole time, rehashing the game and everything he ate or whatever else popped into that odd little head of his. After he backed out of the parking spot, Michael moved his hand off the gear shift to squeeze Craig’s thigh, then threaded their fingers together. Which was not even close to usual for them. Not in semi-public. Not with the boys in the car. Craig stared slack-jawed at their joined hands for several moments before shaking himself and smiling. As Michael smiled back, Craig realized he finally had everything he’d ever wanted.
***
Craig felt like an idiot, standing outside Michael’s door with both hands full of presents and his blue snowman pajamas on under his coat. It was ridiculous. He was a grown man, not a little kid. But Michael insisted it was tradition for his parents to buy everyone new pajamas for Christmas and wear them while opening presents. Seriously, Craig needed to learn to tell that man no.
Sighing, Craig managed to hit the doorbell with his elbow. He felt better when Michael opened the door wearing his own similar pair of pajamas, only his were red and had candy canes all over them. Michael beamed at him and reached out to take one of the piles of presents from him. Leaning forward, he cupped Craig’s cheek and brushed his lips in a brief, sweet kiss.
“Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, smiling wider.
“Merry Christmas,” Craig replied, his own smile automatically tipping up to rival Michael’s in brightness.
As they walked down the hall, Craig heard Sam’s yell of “Craig’s here!” followed closely by Johnny’s enthusiastic “Now we can open presents!” Craig snorted, and Michael rolled his eyes, shaking his head. When they got to the living room, they placed the presents under the tree with two very impatient boys eyeing everything curiously. Craig shrugged out of his coat and smiled as Johnny knelt by the tree, inspecting each package to find the ones for him. Johnny had on green Christmas tree pajamas, while Sam’s were red with Rudolph.
“Gimme a hug,” Craig demanded, “Or you guys won’t get any presents.” Sam immediately bounced over and climbed up him to wrap his arms around Craig’s neck, but Johnny huffed in exasperation first, rolling his eyes. He knew an empty threat when he heard one. He did come over, though, and gave Craig a tight hug. Craig ran a hand through Johnny’s thick, dark hair, then laughed when Sam planted a loud, wet, messy kiss on his cheek.
“Can we do presents now?” Johnny asked, voice whiny. He pulled away from Craig and turned pleading eyes on Michael. “Please, Daddy?”
“Oh, all right. I suppose,” Michael replied, shrugging casually.
Johnny whooped and dove for the tree, and Craig set Sam down so he could follow his brother. Craig wondered what time the boys had dragged Michael out of bed this morning and how he’d kept them distracted enough to wait till Craig arrived. They were actually showing remarkable restraint, considering. Johnny was sorting the presents into piles or, more precisely, gathering all his presents around himself and shoving everything else toward Sam, who was crowded close to Johnny’s shoulder.
He and Michael settled cross-legged near the tree while the boys did their thing. Michael slid an arm across Craig’s shoulders and kissed his temple. Craig leaned back into his chest, a warm, happy feeling washing through him. He’d hesitated when the boys asked him to come for Christmas- he didn’t want to intrude on their family time, and he wasn’t sure how his mom would take him skipping out on the big Macrae celebration. But he couldn’t say no to their sweet little faces, and his mom had been pretty understanding about the whole thing, as long as he’d promised to come over on Christmas Eve and to bring Michael and the boys over sometime the next week. And now, watching Johnny hurriedly reading the names on the gift tags and Sam practically vibrating with excitement, with Michael close and solid next to him, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Once they had all the presents separated, Johnny and Sam began tearing into them. Johnny ripped the wrapping paper off and tossed it aside, heedless of anything else. He almost whacked Sam in the head with a flailing arm a couple of times, but neither of them noticed. Sam opened his a little more carefully but no less enthusiastically. They both crowed happily every time they opened something, whether it was a toy or a new pair of jeans, and Johnny literally fist pumped when he got a video game he’d been incessantly begging Michael for.
Once they calmed down and he and Michael had helped the boys open all their new toys, Sam crawled most of the way under the tree and came back out with a package. It was an odd shape and looked like Sam had wrapped it himself, if the crooked paper and excessive amount of tape were anything to go by. Sam stopped in front of Craig, grinning.
“Is this for me?” Craig asked, and Sam nodded excitedly, a lock of his hair falling over his forehead. Craig brushed the hair out of Sam’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Open it!” Johnny urged, kneeling beside Sam. “Me and Sam made it all by ourselves. Uh, Daddy helped, but it was mostly just us.”
Craig took the misshapen package from Sam and tore at the paper. Inside the box was a plate, the kind that you made and drew on at those ceramic stores. It was obvious which parts Johnny had worked on and which ones were Sam’s. A lot of it was unintelligible, random doodles, but the center picture captured all his attention. Four colorful stick figures, two little ones and two disproportionately tall ones, each drawing labeled with their names. He stroked his thumb over the “Uncle Craig,” blinking back tears as his heart lodged in his throat. He swallowed around the lump and glanced up at the boys’ expectant faces.
“I love it, guys. Thank you.”
“Welcome,” they replied in unison, both of them beaming proudly.
Craig set the plate to the side and gathered them in for a hug. His breath hitched, and more tears gathered in his eyes when he caught the soft and tender expression on Michael’s face.
It was Michael’s turn to open presents after that. Johnny gave him a new Ohio State stethoscope, which made Craig snort in amusement. Johnny and Sam played with their new toys for awhile, until it was time to change and wait for Courtney to show up. Craig expected her to be late as usual. While the boys were in their rooms, he tracked Michael down in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around Michael from behind and kissed the spot behind his ear. Michael turned to face him and kissed him properly, slow and sweet.
“So, the boys’ pajamas,” Craig started slowly when they pulled away, not sure how to bring up this touchy subject. “Does this mean you’ve heard from your parents?”
Michael’s face creased into a frown as he shook his head. “No, and I don’t really expect to. The boys knew Christmas would be different this year, with going to see Courtney and everything, but getting new pajamas is tradition. I had to keep it up, and Johnny and Sam won’t know the difference.”
“I’m sorry. I wish things could be different.” He cupped Michael’s cheek, and Michael leaned into it, closing his eyes.
With visible effort, Michael opened his eyes and smiled. It trembled on the edges, but it was there.
“You know what?” he said. “It doesn’t matter. I have the boys, and I have you. As far as I’m concerned, this is the best Christmas I could ever hope for.”
Craig grinned and softly pressed his mouth to Michael’s. It was just getting interesting when the doorbell rang. Groaning, Michael briefly rested his forehead against Craig’s and grimaced. Craig stroked his cheek, then stepped back as footsteps pounded into the living room.
“Mom’s here!” Johnny exclaimed, rushing to the door.
Sam followed more slowly, dragging his suitcase behind him. It was nearly as tall as he was and kept listing to the side, but Sam had his determined face on, so Craig knew to stay back and let him do it on his own. He stood quietly by the couch while Johnny let their mom in. Craig had heard plenty about her from Michael and some from Johnny, had seen pictures of her, but he still wasn’t prepared for the reality of standing in the same room with her. He took the opportunity to study her while she quickly hugged the boys, before she noticed him next to Michael. She was tiny and petite, with dark hair cut into soft layers and Sam’s big blue eyes, and he supposed very pretty, if you liked women. She held herself a little stiffly, though, even while hugging a chattering Johnny, and her smile was pinched on the edges. But maybe he was looking for these flaws. It was difficult not to after what Michael had told him.
He didn’t expect the sharp stab of jealousy seeing her caused. Whether Craig liked it or not and regardless of how their marriage had ended, she’d still been a part of Michael’s life, had given him something Craig never could, and gotten to have Michael for those seven years that Craig missed out on.
Shaking his head, Craig pushed all that down. Michael was with him now. Forever, if Craig had anything to say about it.
Johnny ran off to gather his stuff, and Courtney finally acknowledged them with a brief nod. Craig held little sympathy for this woman who so casually abandoned her sons, but it must be awkward meeting your ex-husband’s new boyfriend. He could be polite, for Michael’s sake if nothing else. Michael introduced them, but they didn’t talk beyond that, which was probably for the best.
When Johnny returned with his suitcase, bulging slightly with the new toys he’d no doubt stuffed into it at the last minute, Michael knelt down and gathered the boys close to him. Sam burrowed into Michael’s shoulder, crowding in close.
“You boys be good, okay? I’ll see you in a couple days,” Michael said, and both boys nodded.
They came to him next, and Craig noticed Courtney’s eyes widen when they called him Uncle Craig, a wave of satisfaction zinging through him. Though, all told, it was pretty anti-climatic finally coming face-to-face with Michael’s ex. There were more hugs and goodbyes, and Michael stood at the front window watching them leave till the car disappeared around the corner. After, Michael collapsed onto the couch with a long sigh, pulling Craig down with him and nuzzling against his neck.
“Hey,” Craig said, running a soothing hand through Michael’s thick hair. “I didn’t give you your present yet.”
“I don’t need a present, Craig. I have you. That’s enough,” Michael told him.
Craig rolled his eyes, then smiled as Michael huffed at him. “That was total cheese, man. It’s a good thing I already love you.”
Michael shifted around and cupped Craig’s face, smiling softly. “Love you,” he murmured, feathering light kisses over Craig’s mouth and jaw.
“I love you, too.”
THE END