Season's Greetings!

Does everyone else feel like this year has flown by? Is there anyone looking back on the last twelve months thinking it was a slow drag? I feel like it's gone by at warp speed.

Anyway, I was playing around the other day and wrote a little Christmas short for Skip and Paul. And, well, mostly Johnny, but whatever. I thought I'd post it and wish everyone a happy holiday. Or, ya know, happy winter if you don't celebrate.

It had taken him over an hour and a half to make the usually forty-five minute drive to the nearest mall. Between snow, ice, and holiday traffic, Skip had felt like getting a drink rather than Christmas shopping by the time he’d gotten there. He settled on a peppermint white-mocha instead.

As he stood in front of a display of cashmere sweaters, Skip took out his phone and snapped a quick picture before sending the image in a text message to Johnny.

He’d moved on to the jewelry counter when he got a response.

???

Rolling his eyes and laughing, Skip texted back quickly.

I’m trying to decide what to get Paul for Christmas.

He should have expected Johnny’s answer; it’s not like he didn’t know Johnny well enough.

Tie a big red bow around your cock.

Skip snorted a laugh and glanced around the crowded store as if to make sure no one could see what the message said. He shot back another quick response.

The gift that keeps on giving?

While Skip was looking through the glass case filled with watches and ID bracelets, his phone buzzed in his hand with another text from Johnny. This time it was an image with a link to a sex toy shop. The picture he was looking at had his cheeks blushing hotly. It was a ballgag and a pair of red leather cuffs. There were so many things he could say to it, but he texted a question.

Is that for me to wear, or Paul?

Johnny’s response had him laughing out loud and looking like an idiot in front of the sales girl that was watching him expectantly.

You. I bet there’s been many times since you two moved in together that Paul has wished he could gag you.

 That was probably true, but Skip knew how much Paul enjoyed the makeup sex, so he didn’t think he needed to invest in a gag.

Maybe you should get one of those. I bet Faith would appreciate it more than Paul would.

Skip was still milling around the department store, seriously considering a new power tool or home-improvement item when his phone vibrated again. Johnny didn’t bother to defend himself against the last comment. Instead, he sent another image and link. This one was a giant, double ended dildo that looked more terrifying than erotic. He texted Johnny back.

I’m starting to think you’re sending me your wishlist…

Johnny didn’t say anything else for a long time. Instead, Skip got a flurry of images with shopping links. A vibrating cockring, flavored lube, various kinds of bondage gear, and then, finally, a picture of Skip and Paul standing together on the front step of the house they’d bought a few months earlier. It was a three bedroom with a fenced yard and a wooden swing on the back porch. Skip had sent the snapshot to Johnny the day they had closed the deal. Paul’s arms were wrapped around Skip’s waist and he was grinning into the camera.

He wasn’t sure if Johnny had meant to send the photo back to him, amid the spam of sex toys, so he texted back his own series of question marks. Johnny’s answer was plain and direct.

Do you really think *that* guy cares what you get him for Christmas?

Skip tucked his phone back into his pocket. Johnny had, remarkably, made a good point. By the time he went home that evening, he had a few bags filled with little things for Paul, his mother, his sister, and the rest of the family.  He’d ordered the ballgag for Monty and had it shipped to his office. They were friends now, and he expected Monty would appreciate the tease.

Much later that night, while Paul slept soundly in their bed, Skip got online and clicked a few links until he found a site that made custom plaques. The one he chose was simple and tasteful. He thought it would look perfect mounted near their front door.

The words he had inscribed were meaningful to them both:   

     Physicists Do It With Energy