Connor was watching them with an unreadable expression. “Yeah. Cool.” He looked back at the presents.
Seth knelt by the tree. “Here you are. Come on. Don’t be shy.”
Hesitantly, Connor knelt by him, and then Logan did too. Seth passed out the presents, seven of the boxes for Connor. He ripped into the paper of one, pulling out some kind of speaker. “Sweet! It’s the waterproof Bose. This is awesome!”
“Santa knows his stuff,” Seth said. Jenna would definitely be getting a spa day for her help.
Connor was already ripping open another package. “The new Call of Duty!” He shrewdly eyed the remaining boxes, picking up a bigger one and tearing it open. “And the latest Xbox!” His face positively glowed, and Seth and Logan shared a grin.
“Glad you like it,” Logan said.
“I love it! Can we hook it up?”
“Absolutely,” Seth said.
Connor tore into his other gifts, a few more games and a pair of Adidas shoes that he declared “sick,” which Seth took to be a good thing. Connor was readying the Xbox when he said, “Oh, wait. You guys have to open your stuff.”
With wry smiles, Logan and Seth unwrapped their blue tie and black socks, respectively. Connor scowled. “Seriously? That’s it.”
“We’re gonna do better next year,” Logan said.
“Shit, I hope so.” Connor went back to the cables behind the TV. “But thanks. This stuff is awesome. I… I didn’t get you guys anything.”
“That’s okay,” Seth assured him.
Logan said, “How about you not be a little dickhead for the rest of the holidays? We’ll take that.”
After a pause, Connor burst out laughing. “I’ll try my best. Can we make breakfast soon? I’m starving.”
Seth chose the Christmas station on the stereo, and jazzy holiday music filled the main floor. He hummed as he got out the eggs and bacon, Logan insisting he and Connor would do the potatoes.
“I think you’re supposed to cut them the long way,” Logan said.
“Says who?” Connor grumbled.
“I dunno. It looks better like that.”
Connor rolled his eyes. “Since when are you an expert in cooking?”
“Since never. Let’s Google it.”
“Fine. What Google says goes. Deal?”
Logan chuckled. “Deal.”
Seth said, “We have a pretty good track record with deals.” He grinned at Logan, who gave him a wink while Connor tapped his phone.
As Seth peeled off the strips of bacon, he sipped his coffee and hummed along to Sinatra singing about happy golden days, and all their troubles being miles and miles away.
Epilogue
Five Years Later
“Hey!” Logan turned from the pantry and tried to swat away Seth’s hand, but he was too late. “You know you’re not supposed to eat raw batter. It can kill you or some shit.”
Seth sucked the chocolate cake batter off his index finger with a wet pop, making Logan’s dick perk up and giving him all sorts of ideas they didn’t have time for.
Seth said, “The risk of consuming raw eggs has been greatly overstated. They’ll take my cookie dough and cake batter from my cold, dead hands.” With a wink, he scooped up more with his finger. “It’ll be worth it.”
“Okay, but there has to be enough for the cake. And I haven’t had any yet.”
“Ah, the truth comes out! You’re not worried about salmonella—you just want enough left for you to lick the bowl.” He sucked his finger clean.
Logan shrugged, trying not to laugh. “Guilty as charged.”
Sliding an arm around Logan’s waist, warm hand stealing beneath his ratty tee, Seth leaned in. They kissed slowly and deeply, batter still on Seth’s tongue. Logan relaxed into him, chasing the sugar.
When they parted, Seth lowered his voice in the cute way he did sometimes when he jokily faked a come-on. “Let me know when you’re ready to lick the bowl.”
“You know, everyone thinks you’re so innocent, but you’re really…” Logan tried to find the right word.
“A vixen?” Seth waggled his thick eyebrows. There was a bit of gray coming into the hair at his temples, and it was sexy as fuck.
“Sure. We’ll go with that. Because only you would suggest that word. Right, Hercules?” Logan glanced down at their portly tabby cat, who rubbed against their legs, meowing for his snack. Seth had wanted to name him Hercule after some detective, and they’d compromised on Hercules.
Logan’s phone buzzed where it sat on top of the island. “Might be work,” he said as he reached for it. He’d recently been promoted to senior craftsman at Ricci and Sons and was in charge of his own renovation crew. He had to deal with more problems, but it was worth it.
“Oh, it’s Connor.” He tapped the screen with Connor’s picture, a shot from his first day at Harvard several months earlier, exasperation showing in his smile and a few zits still dotting his face. He’d insisted it was no big deal to go to college and there was no reason to take a picture when Logan and Seth dropped him off.