Lyric snorted as she typed and typed on Harley’s phone, and after a short forever, she handed it over. “There. I wrote up a little caption. You can delete it if you don’t like it, but you’re welcome to take credit if you want.”
Harley’s fingers shook just a little as he took his phone back and scrolled to read it.
Just dropping in to wish everyone a Happy Holidays. Sorry I’ve been absent, but I wanted to take a moment to share how grateful I am for the people in my life who are truly kind and make me feel as worthy as I deserve to feel. I hope you have someone special in your life to celebrate with like I do. It’s not very often someone gets to meet the love of their life, but it seems like I have. So, from my heart to yours, all the best this season. -Harley
“I don’t go by Harley,” he said very quietly.
“Oh God, right. Imagine if I’d posted that,” Lyric said with a giggle. “How do you sign off on your stuff.”
“RJ.” He corrected it, then stared at the words again. It wasn’t something he’d have ever typed on his own, but the words rang true. The people in his life—the people here who hadwelcomed him without judgment after knowing only what the internet had said about him—they were kind. The people here who had taken the time to know him as he was and not who they assumed he would be. They were kind.
And he was happy.
“Is any of that too much?” Claude murmured in his ear.
Harley knew what he was asking about. The love of his life. He looked up into his eyes, then shook his head. He felt Claude’s breath catch in his chest, and then he let the phone drop to his lap as he was kissed, and kissed, and kissed.
He was entirely breathless by the time Claude pulled away, and it took everything in him not to turn his body and pounce. Instead, he picked the phone back up and hit the little icon to post it.
“Does your phone get notifications?” Lyric asked.
Harley snorted. “Not a chance. I’ve turned them all off.”
“Can I watch the internet lose their minds?” she asked eagerly.
“Babe,” Aminah warned.
“What? I just want to enjoy the fruits of my labor.”
“And maybe Harley doesn’t want you meddling in his accounts,” Aminah said softly while Lyric huffed.
Harley waved off her concern. “Truthfully, it’s fine. I’m happy to let someone else do it for me. If you’re looking for a second job, I’d love a new social media manager.”
Lyric’s eyes lit up, and she leaned forward, clasping her hands under her chin. “Do not toy with my emotions.”
“Oh, I’m not.” Harley meant every word. “We can talk about it after Christmas, yeah?”
“Let’s consider tonight a freebie. So you can assess my work,” she said, clutching his phone close. “Just tell me any hard and fast rules.”
Harley rolled his eyes. “If my ex calls, answer it and tell him to go to hell. And when I go back with Claude…consider me off-limits for the rest of the night.”
Claude held him a little more tightly—a little more desperately. “Same for me. I know you two can handle any crisis that might come up.”
Aminah leaned forward and met their gaze. “If it means you’re finally letting yourself be happy, we’re on it. For as long as you need.”
It took all of Harley’s self-restraint to sit through another cup of cocoa, then dinner, then cookies, then gift exchanges. He’d expected to get nothing since the only thing he’d managed to come up with for a gift was the book for Claude, but Aminah and Lyric gave him a fuzzy brown sweater that was a few sizes too big and a pair of slippers to match.
He felt like shit for not having anything for them, but Lyric went on and on about the job offer, and Aminah told him her gift to him was making her wife happy.
It felt like some kind of success, and he was already picturing next year and how different it was going to be. Better in a way, because—if this all worked out—he’dknowthem. He’d be invited and welcome and expected.
He didn’t think about how next year, if he didn’t get to keep any of this, he’d feel crushed. The idea of that loneliness was almost too much to bear, so his brain shut it off, and he let it hide in the shadows of his mind.
He and Claude were happily dismissed and made their way back to the house, Claude’s steps slow and careful as he leaned heavily on his cane. By the time they got in, Harley was nearlyfrozen to the bone, and he let Claude lead him directly to the bedroom, where he sat on the edge of the bed, then began to methodically strip Harley down until he was naked.
The feeling would have been awful, but the heater was pumping warm air through the vent. His nipples were still peaked though, and his cock was fat and stiff with need the way it had been most of the night. He watched Claude watch him. He saw naked hunger on his face.
His strong, careful fingers lifted, tracing his full pecs, following the riverbed stretchmarks over his sides and down toward his knees. His touch was reverent and almost worshipping, and Harley had never felt so adored in his life.