Page 11 of A Little Christmas! Johnny
DEXTER
Watching Johnny in the shop with Russel, I’m more convinced than ever that the man is a Little in need of a safe space to release it. We got here at around ten this morning and for the last two hours, Russ has been showing off all of his Little things to the mechanic with such joyful exuberance that I haven’t had the heart to interrupt them. Sure, John could have thrown everything into a few boxes and called it a day, but that’s not my boy.
There I go again. I’m moving faster than lightning without even considering the possibility that the guy isn’t interested. Then again, from what I saw last night at the store, he’s definitely interested. Now, I just need to figure out if it’s just little Johnny who is interested or if Little Johnny wants to surface for me.
“Fucking freakshow.”
I recognize the voice grumbling from the doorway behind me. It appears the dickwad from the phone yesterday has made his appearance. Judging by the way both boys tense, they heard his remark. What surprises me is that Johnny positions himselfto block Russ from the view of the jagoff. My boy is also a protector. That’s good to know.
“You might want to watch the shit that comes out of your fucking mouth, asshole.”
I say it loud enough to carry through the whole shop and a few clangs echo in the silence that follows. I don’t really give a flying fuck what the guy’s status is in the shop or how big he might think he is. Truth is, it doesn’t matter. Even if the guy is huge and could pound me into the dust, no one hurts Russ and escapes unscathed. My neighbor might be an adorable and non-confrontational Little, but he’s a beast in the court room with his biggest clients having power in both legal andothercircles thanks to his father.
“Look man, this is my place,” the dickwad steps in front of me, attempting to intimidate me. “If you don’t like it, take your twink and your freak shit and bounce.”
I laugh in his face at his pathetic attempt. Soccer moms at the store are more fear inducing than this jackass – balding with a terrible attempt at a combover, at least a hundred pounds over husky, and a face that reminds me of a a dog licking a window. At least dogs are cute. I’m thoroughly enjoying the way he skips right over red and is turning purple with rage, hoping that he’s dumb enough to take a swing.
“Whose place is it, Paul?” a voice calls out from upstairs. “Cuz I don’t remember my pops giving you a stake in the shop.”
The guy stomps down the steps, and I watch my boy flinch from the corner of my eye at every footfall. From everything Johnny told me last night about this place, this is supposed to be like his family away from home. Family shouldn’t make you flinch.
My attention is on the guy coming down, but it doesn’t stop me from noticing the smirk on Paul’s face or the fact that the rest of the shop has basically stopped working.
“You made it clear yesterday how you feel about having John as a boss,” he continues when he reaches the shop floor, moving around me to push Paul back. “I thought I also made it clear that if you don’t pull your head out of your ass that you won’t have to wait for the new year to find other employment.”
It feels like the entire building imploded at that statement. Mechanics come from every direction to swarm the man who came from the second floor, and I am roughly pushed back. When my foot catches on something, I’m certain that I’m going down, but I’m gently lifted back to my feet before I meet the ground in what I’m sure would have been a relatively painful manner. Turning around, I don’t manage to catch Johnny’s gaze, but I honestly love the feel of his arms around me.
“I’m not done with clearing out the Aveo, but the guys are gonna be to rowdy for us to keep going for now,” he says, pulling his arms away and pushing Russ into my embrace. “You can either come back later or I can take you to my office to wait it out. I’ve got to help Steve with this shit show.”
When he points up to indicate his office is on the second floor, I nod. The noise level in the shop is rising quickly from the other men yelling. Of course, that means verbal communication isn’t exactly attainable right now. After settling us in his office – pointing out the cocoa and candy canes – he rushes out the door muttering something. I only catch the first part before the door closes behind him.
“You got a kid coming. Don’t destroy your dad’s legacy for my sake, dumbass.”
Russ turns on the television and squeals in delight. Looking up, I see that Paw Patrol is on. My lips turn up involuntarily while I glance over at the desk. When I pick up the invoice for Russel’s car, I uncover a notebook that has me frozen. I read it over and over, believing for the first time in a very long time that there might be something to the whole magic of Christmasconcept. Something magical definitely brought Johnny into my life.
Dear Santa,
I know it’s been a long time since I aksed you for anything. My parents told me you aren’t real when I was six. I still secretly hoped you would show up for me, though. I didn’t even want toys. I wanted to have the Christmas morning you see in the movies. I wanted the joy that is supposed to come this time of the year.
Now, it’s been basically twenty years. I’ve done my best to hold onto the joy of Christmas, but it's been very difficult. My family is going away on a trip without me, expecting me to be the dog sitter at home and I’m officially homeless once Steve kicks me out of the shop. The only bright spot in my life right now is that I met this amazing guy, Dexter. He said he’s gonna send you a wish that I’m single.
How do I tell him that I’ve been too scared to get into a relationship for years? I mean, sex is easy. But a relationship means getting laughed at for liking what I do. But I‘m miserable trying to be all grown up all of the time. Is it really wrong to like childish things as an adult? I think if anyone out there would understand being a grownup and liking to play with toys, it would be you. I don’t want to hide myself away anymore.
So I guess what I’m asking for is this: Please let Dexter be the kind of man who won’t laugh at me and tell me to grow up. Can I trade the last twenty years of wishes for this one? Pretty please? I’ll be the bestest boy ever if you let me have him. Even if it’s only for Christmas. I want to know what it feels like to be loved and happy on Christmas morning.
Please be real.
Johnny
I swipe at my eyes roughly before Russel notices my tears and tear the page out of the notebook. There’s a lot to unpack here, but I’m going to give my boy everything this year. Even if we don’t last longer than just this holiday season, this is going to be the merriest fucking Christmas ever for him. I guarantee it.
11
JOHNNY
I hit the bottom step and almost fall when Paul’s voice comes from the direction of the breakroom.
“You’re about to be a Dad, Steve. Can you honestly trust that pedo around your kid?”
