Page 131 of Don't Shoot Me Santa
But Aaron hadone morething he might want.
So he stood from the piano, shutting the fallboard, the wine flush blooming across his chest, and dragged a dining chair into the centre of the living room with a theatricalclatter, grinning at Kenny’s dozing form. He draped it in tinsel. Then off came his jumper, and he tossed it aside, leaving him in a pair of tight, baby-blue jeans, artfully ripped along the thighs. He grinned, grabbing another handful of tinsel from the tree and winding it around his neck, his waist, one arm. The static clung to his skin. Glitter kissed his ribs, and he crossed the room to lean in close, brushing his mouth along Kenny’s neck.
Kenny stirred. Half sigh, half smile. “Mmm?”
“Get up, old man.” Aaron took Kenny’s paper crown from his head and put it on his own, then tugged Kenny from the sofa, still half-dazed, and guided him to the tinsel-draped chair facing the archway. Kenny blinked blearily, slow to catch up, until Aaron kissed him, tender and brief and promising. Then he turned and walked away.
Over to the jukebox.
He drifted his fingers over the buttons, found the record,slid it into place. A click. A low whir. Then—Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.
The unmistakable beat kicked in, jazzy and full of playful sin. Eartha Kitt’s voice followed, rich as velvet.
Aaron spun, grinning as he ripped the wrinkled paper crown from his head and tossed it towards Kenny. It landed in his lap. And Aaron mouthed the words across the room,“Santa Baby”, swaying his hips in time with the music as he sauntered towards the pole.
Kenny was wide awake now.
Aaron dragged one finger up the pole as he walked around it. The fairy lights flickered gold on the ceiling and the tree sparkled behind Kenny’s silhouette. Everything smelled like cinnamon and pine and woodsmoke, and under it all, Kenny’s cologne. Subtle, familiar and utterly intoxicating.
Aaron tossed a wink over his shoulder.
Kenny was still. Legs parted. Elbows on thighs. Eyes burning.
Aaron spun, a gentle half-turn to start, then dipped low, arching his back, dragging the tinsel across his bare stomach like a feather. His breath caught as the cold metal of the pole kissed his spine. The rhythm of the music guided him and he hooked one leg around the pole, lifted it with control, and curled into the movement. A dance made for Kenny. He gripped the pole tight between his thighs, muscles trembling from the earlierfestivities, but it only added to the ache. The want. The show of it.
Cause he had been an awfulgood boy.
He slid down the pole in a roll, trailing one hand after the other, letting gravity and grace do their thing. Let Kenny see the way his jeans stretched over his arse. Let himwatch.
Because Kenny alwayswatched.
And he alwayssaw.
Aaron then dipped, rolled, pushing up again, using the pole to spin once more, then stalked a few steps towards the edge of the imaginary stage, close enough for Kenny to see the mischief in his smile. Close enough to trail the tinsel down his own chest, over one nipple, then along to his piercing, before wrapping it snugly around his neck and giving it a teasing tug.
Kenny swallowed.
Aaron mouthed the next line with a wink.
Then he spun again, faster this time, letting the movement blur the room before planting both feet and sliding into a low, wide-legged dip. He spread his arms, wrapped in shimmering red tinsel, and threw his head back.
He could hear Kenny breathing. Could feel the air crackle.
So he straightened, moving like honey to prowl across the space towards him. Hips loose, arms flexed, glitter catching on every inch of bare skin. Kenny watched with that look. Half pride. Half possession. Full-blown worship.
Aaron stopped in front of him.
Bent low.
Close enough for Kenny’s warm breath to ghost up to meet his own. He dragged the tinsel across Kenny’s lap, eyes locked onto his. A challenge. An invitation. Kenny then caught the end of the garland without looking away, closing his fingers around the shimmering strand like a fuse.
“Turn around.”
There was no edge in the command. No raised voice. Only a quiet certainty. One that Aaron’s body responded to before his mind had even caught up. Because thiswastheir dynamic. What they’d built, thread by thread. Trust. Permission. Control without cruelty.
Aaronturned.
Kenny stood behind him, close enough Aaron could feel the heat radiating off his chest. Then his hands were on his wrists. Firm. Grounding. Kenny brought them behind his back and locked them there, wrapping the tinsel around them. Not tight but binding enough to make Aaron’s breath skip.
