Grumble Monkey and the Department Store Elf by B.G. Thomas

Nick, and the coffee was served, full of cream and sugar and nutmeg and cinnamon. Then presents were passed out, and surprise, surprise, there were two for Nick. Kit’s mother was always prepared, and how she had smuggled them under the tree only she and Santa could know for sure.
    Finally, when he and Nick at last had two minutes alone, all Kit could ask was: “Why are you here? I thought I would never see you again.” He’d been sure, for some reason. Known it in his bones.
    “I… I….” Nick looked away, then looked back. “The picture.”
    “You looked?” Kit asked.
    Nick nodded.
    “You didn’t wait long,” Kit scolded.
    “Well, how long was I supposed to wait? Christmas?”
    Kit laughed.
    “Kit. I had to know. I don’t know why, but I had to know.”
    “Know what?”
    “Why did you make me look so young?”
    Kit looked at him in surprise. “Oh, Nick. That’s how you look when you’re asleep.”
    For a moment Nick was stunned into silence.
    Finally: “What?” he asked.
    Kit stepped close. Put one hand on Nick’s hip, used the fingers of the other to touch his cheek, the corners of his eyes, his lips. “When you’re asleep, Nick. Your worries are gone. Your frowns are gone. Your….”
    “What?” Nick asked.
    “You aren’t pissed off at the world when you’re asleep,” Kit said. “And that’s how you look. Beautiful.”
    Nick’s eyes filled with tears and this time, Kit held him .
     
     
    N ICK WAS relegated to Kit’s room alone that night. Decorum, after all. There were children in the house.
    But a half hour after lights out, Kit snuck into the room and slipped under the covers.
    “Tell me why,” his young lover asked. “Why did you really come back?”
    “I did tell you,” he said.
    “Tell me the truth.”
    It took Nick a moment to answer. He wasn’t sure exactly what the answer was.
    Until that moment.
    “You,” Nick said. Because it was true.
    Kit snuggled into his arms. “When are you leaving?”
    Nick took a deep breath. “I don’t know that I am.”
    Kit made an almost silent gasp. “W-why not?”
    Nick didn’t know the answer until Kit asked. “I don’t need to go anymore. I’ve changed my plans. There’s no reason.”
    Neither spoke for a while. Then Kit said, “Why were you going?”
    Because ten years ago, my parents threw me out of their lives because I’m gay. Because I’ve spent a decade trying to prove myself to them, and they don’t care. Never came to one showing, even though I invited them to every single one. Even though family friends had come and had to have talked to them. Because I have stupidly thrown away love in favor of success.
    Did he tell Kit?
    No. Of course not.
    Because how did he tell Kit that he was going to San Francisco to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge? To kill himself?
    “It doesn’t matter now,” he said.
    Kit sat up. “Nick?”
    “All that matters is that I came back for you.”
    Sweet, gay, very gay you.
    And then he pulled Kit close and made very quiet love to him. Decorum, after all. There were children in the house.
    Nick didn’t pretend for a second that he was going to spend the rest of his life with Kit. He didn’t know what was in store. They hardly knew each other. They hadn’t even gone on a date.
    Well. There had been the ice cream. Nutty Coconut and Winter White Chocolate, not to mention Chocolate-Chip Cookie Dough.
    And dinner, of course.
    But there were some things he did know. Things were better. Through some… some Christmas miracle, things were much better.
    And he, Nick St. George (and not one of his contemporaries), was going to make Kit Jeffries famous. He was going to show the world the marvel that was Kit.
    He thought he might even buy a gay T-shirt. One that shouted “outlandish.” Maybe he should let Kit pick it out?
    He might even go to a gay pride. Take Kit. New York certainly knew how to throw a party, and with gay people at the helm? It had to be over the top!
    And who knew? Maybe