Page 40 of Daddy's Christmas Elf
A converted chapel, the café’s lofty ceiling was hung with reflective baubles which reminded Grey of mirrored disco balls. Lulu’s had taken the order to deck the halls with boughs of holly to its literal extreme, as wreaths of winter greenery seemed to hang from every available piece of wall space. A large, bushy Christmas tree dominated one corner, dripping Santas and snowmen ornaments, silver stars, and red and green bows. Winding its way all around the tree, a rope of clear bright white lights gently twinkled. A shaft of sunlight burst through the stained glass window high above, bathing everything and all in jewel bright colour.
Eli picked up one of the menus from the table, and Grey watched as Eli’s eyes widened; he knew exactly what was going through Eli’s mind as he scanned the choices on offer. The area was wealthy, and Lulu’s catered exclusively to those who could pay the price without a second thought.
“I’ll have poached egg on toast, please.”
The plainest, cheapest thing on the menu.
Grey leaned across and lowered his voice, his words for Eli alone.
“Poached egg on toast is absolutely not a breakfast fit for the festive season. You’ve saved me from a dull Christmas on my own, with only Trevor’s dubious company. I’m going for salmon and scrambled eggs, and a huge pile of sourdough toast, so—”
“What can I get for you today, guys?” A waitress bounded up to them, wearing reindeer deely boppers and Santa earrings. She smiled down at them, her stylus poised above the tablet she held, ready to take their order.
Grey raised his brow at Eli, who hesitated for a moment before he answered.
“Same as you. Thank you.”
Grey gave the waitress their order. “And a couple of Buck’s Fizz,” he added, before she raced off.
Eli fiddled with the salt and pepper pots, not meeting Grey’s eye. He was anxious and awkward and Grey wanted to put an immediate stop to it.
“Eli? Tell me what’s up all of a sudden.”
Eli’s shoulders slumped as he let go of a small puff of air.
“I know how stupid it must sound, given everything you’ve done for me — when you never had to, despite what you think — but the prices in here, they’re astronomical. The full English breakfast, it costs more than my entire weekly lunch budget for work. I suppose it just brought into focus that once Christmas is over and we hit 1st January, I’ll just be back to square one again."
Grey studied Eli across the small table. The noise and chatter, the chink of knives and forks on plates, and the carols playing in the background, faded away to nothing. Eli was proud. Proud of the way he was working towards his ambition, proud of the way he was doing it with nobody to back him up, and he had every reason to be so. Yet life had conspired to pull the rug from under his feet; he was falling and needed help to stand. He just needed to be persuaded of that.
Grey wanted nothing more than to sweep away the worried frown creasing Eli’s brow, and to make those gorgeous lips of his smile once more. Grey took a deep breath, ready to lay before Eli the plan that had formed, all its pieces fitting together and snapping into place like a jigsaw puzzle.
“Two Buck’s Fizz.” The smiley waitress returned with flutes of the joyful, celebratory cocktail, its rich bright orange a burst of the summer sun which waited just beyond the horizon.
“Happy Christmas, Eli.” Grey raised his glass, and Eli smiled as he did the same, the worry that had shadowed his face melting away.
“It is, thanks to you.”
They chinked glasses. Eli sighed as he sipped on his drink.
“Hmm, lovely. I think I could start every day with one of these, although I don’t think my liver would thank me for it.”
“Daily indulgence is good for the soul. Maybe not alcohol based, though.”
Eli tilted his head. “Yeah? What kind of indulgence do you have in mind?”
Eli’s smile turned darker as he narrowed his eyes, both his question and his questioning gaze sending heat to Grey’s dick, waking it up as it pushed against the prison of his jeans. It was all Grey could do to stop himself from lunging across the table and dragging Eli into to his arms to show him exactly the kind of indulgence he meant, the kind they could have morning, noon, and night, and all the times in-between. Instead, he took a sip of the drink he could barely taste, giving himself time to take a breath.
“Those that make you feel good.”
Eli snorted. “I know what makes me feel good.”
Grey sipped his drink, not taking his eyes from Eli. Did Eli know? Really, truly, deeply know? Grey wasn’t so sure. Eli was talking about sex, but it was only one piece of the picture. Grey leaned forward, just a little, lessening the space between them, making their own little private island in the sea of festive revellers.
“What about waking up to soft kisses, or falling asleep in another’s arms? Being wrapped up in a warm, protective blanket when you’re cold, or being giving your favourite foods to eat when you’re feeling low? Or having all your worries and concerns lifted from your shoulders and taken care of? Having another to carry your weight and hold you up, giving you all and every support you need when life feels like it’s too much? Do those things make you feel good, Eli?”
The bustle of the crowded café, the chatter, the laughter, the Christmas music, it all died away to nothing. The warm air around them was charged, electrified, crackling. Grey’s heart beat a hard, steady rhythm, its thump reverberating in every part of him as he gazed at Eli, waiting for him to answer not only Grey’s questions, but his own.
Eli nodded, slow and small. “I—I’ve never had those things. Not since I was little, but I’m kind of guessing you’re not talking about then.” Eli dipped his head and gazed down at his glass, turning it by the long, slim stem. “But I know I’d like them, and to not have this feeling all the time that I’m pushing a boulder up a mountain where the summit is always just out of reach. I—I think that’s what would really make me feel good.”
