The tall, beautiful Christmas tree, sparkling with white lights, dominates our living room. It’s decorated with jewel-toned ornaments from sets we bought, but there’s also open space for us to add meaningful ornaments as we find them.
One of the gifts I’ll be giving my men is a “First Christmas Together” ornament. It’s not true in the strict sense of things — we were together last year and for several holidays when we were younger — but this year feels different. After getting to know each other again, we’re solid and committed, and moving into our new home feels like the start of the rest of our lives.
Lincoln drops down on one end of the couch and pulls me into his lap, situating me so that he can rub my back. His hands are magic, and he’s soon relaxing muscles that I didn’t even know were tense.
“I saw all of those packages you came in with,” he says. “You must be tired.”
My eyes are closed as I savor his touch, but I open them when I hear movement nearby. Barrett’s come in. He lifts my legs, sits down and brings my feet into his lap, where he begins to rub them.
“Oh my gosh, this is heaven,” I say, closing my eyes again.
“Of course it is, because you’re an angel,” Lincoln says softly in my ear.
I can’t hold back a giggle. All of my men are sweet and romantic, but not usually so over the top about it.
After several more minutes, Lincoln pulls me back to rest against his chest, and I gaze at the tree as Barrett’s hands slide up my legs, gently pressing and kneading my calf muscles.
“What’s going on in here?” Bronson says as he and Lennox enter, having finished cleaning up in the kitchen.
“I was about to give Lincoln and Barrett back rubs,” I say. “I’ll do you next.”
If there’s one drawback to being in a relationship with four men, it’s that I don’t have enough hands to touch them and hold them all at the same time. But they’re good at taking turns. And after some adjustment and a few arguments, they’ve become better at letting me do things for them.
Sometimes I surprise them with their favorite things from the bakery, or do their laundry if I can get to it first. I hide little love notes in their pockets, and make iced coffee for them when they’re working from home and need an afternoon pick-me-up.
I try to show my love for them as much as I can, because they’re always making me feel loved and cherished, in their words and their actions, both big and small. It’s hard for me to believe there was a time when I didn’t trust them or think they cared about me, because they are the most loving, dependable, wonderful men in the world.
“Maybe while you’re massaging my brother’s back, I can give you a back rub,” Bronson says, with a playful lift of his eyebrow.
I grin back at him. “I know from past experience how your back rubs go. Somehow they always end up with my shirt and bra coming off, and your hands on my breasts.”
“You know me too well,” he says, laughing.
“Actually, I like the sound of that even better than a back rub,” Lincoln says, letting his own hands stray to my front and find my nipples through my clothes.
“We haven’t made love under the tree yet,” Lennox says.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I say. As Barrett spreads out a big, soft holiday blanket and I join my four men on the floor, my heart overflows with joy.