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Santa Tom
It's Christmas time in Vancouver BC
Tom's in the living room on his knees...
Lubes and condoms, anal plugs and beads
And Mike's giving in to all of Tom's needs
Decorating skin with ribbons of come
It's on the ground, isn't this just fun?
Next to the fireplace, in a spot they've missed
Underneath the mistletoe they steal a kiss
The rhymes you hear are the rhymes of porn
Just what you need on Christmas morn!
Normally, Michael didn’t hang around Vancouver after filming had been completed, but this year, his mom and stepfather had gone on a holiday cruise, and the idea of spending that much time with any of his relatives, besides his immediate family, made him want to gouge his eyes out with a rusty spoon. It was just as easy to be bored at his own house rather than bother his family.
Plus, at home, there was none of that nasty eye gouging.
He’d ordered all of his family’s gifts online and had them delivered directly to them. Of course, none of them knew what to buy for him, so they’d either sent him gift certificates, which he appreciated, or random things that he had absolutely no use for. One of Michael’s aunts had sent him a magazine rack with dolphins on it. He had no idea what to do with it.
There was the requisite menorah in his window, waiting for him to turn the bulbs on the first night. He glanced at the living room table. Underneath his minuscule, tabletop tree that Allison and Kristin had bought for him, sat the only things that he’d actually purchased and wrapped himself – the gifts he’d bought for Tom. Well, next to it really, since its size didn’t lean towards being underneath the tiny tree. Michael had gotten gift certificates for the rest of the cast. Annette and both Johns had gotten restaurant cards and for the girls and Sam, he’d just gone with Amazon gift cards. Easy, and more useful than a magazine rack with dolphins on it.
Michael wasn’t really good at figuring out what people would like, so it wasn’t like he could fault the aunt with the stupid dolphin thing. He wasn’t going to try to guess sizes, or which DVD wasn’t already in friend’s collection. It was just a much better idea for him to go with Amazon.
But he hadn’t done that with Tom. For his best friend, he’d actually braved the shops of Vancouver and found the perfect gift.
Well, what Michael hoped was the perfect gift. He could be completely off base and Tom may hate it completely. And he really didn’t know when he was going to be able to give the gift to him. Tom was busy with his movie-press junket and Michael had no idea when he’d be back in Vancouver. Maybe he would call in a few days and invite Tom over for dinner.
The knock startled him. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and for a brief second, it annoyed him because he was in the middle of reading a new script. And the script wasn’t half bad.
But when he opened the door, he was no longer annoyed. Not even a little. Because, on his doorstep was the funniest thing he’d ever seen – so much so that he had to hold onto the door to keep from falling over from the laughter. Tom was standing there wearing a Santa suit – it was very authentic-looking, from the fuzzy pompom on the top of his bright red hat right down to the shiny boots. He even had a brown sack slung over his shoulder.
“Ho, ho, ho,” Tom boomed. “Have you been a good little boy this year?”
Michael just kept laughing. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself, but then Tom whirled the bag around to his feet and asked. “You gonna let me in, Rosenbaum? Or do I have to sneak in through your chimney?”
“Don’t have a chimney,” Michael said between gasps. “Maybe you should just come in.”
Tom pushed through the door, his boots clicking on the wood floor. “You didn’t answer my question either. I asked if you’d been a good boy this year.”
Michael had shut the door behind him and was now leaning against it for support. He was still giggling at the image of Tom in the red suit. Instead of saying anything, he just shook his head.
There was no way he’d make Santa’s nice list. Between the drunken nights, the parties and the random women, there was no way he’d be on anything but the naughty one.
“Nah, I’ve been pretty bad. Alas, there is no one to spank me. Does that mean that I get my stocking filled with coal?” Oh, and there was the flirting with one’s male best friend. That was sure to land him on Santa’s bad side.
Tom gave him a strange look and reached into the large sack at his feet and pulled out a brightly wrapped package. “Well, since you’ve been naughty, you only get one of your presents. The rest I will have to give to the good little boys and girls.”
“Don’t be a tease, Santa. What else have you got in there for me?” He reached for the bag, but Tom grabbed it and set it behind him, holding the wrapped package out in front of him.
“Don’t be greedy, Mike. No wonder you’re on the naughty list.”
Michael wanted to pout, but decided that he should open his gift instead. Tom always gave great gifts. He had it easy – his wife did all his shopping. But when Michael inspected the package closely, he could tell that either Tom had wrapped it himself, or it had been done by one of those charity places in the mall that employed children. The corners weren’t even, there was tape everywhere and it was Tom’s handwriting on the tag.
Looking up with a grin, Michael was a little surprised to see the anxious look on Tom’s face. “You did this yourself, didn’t you?”
Tom nodded. “There’s one in here that Jamie picked out, but I think it’s just another t-shirt. It’s probably a lot better than what I came up with… but it doesn’t matter. Open it, anyway.”
“Yours is on the table. Under the tree.” He’d dropped the innuendo-laden voice. Michael was just so surprised that Tom had gone out of his way to get something for him. He shook the box gently. It was small, but that never meant anything – at least not in holiday gifts. Michael sat down on the couch and waited for Tom to pick up his gifts from the table and join him.
Side-by-side, Tom looked expectantly at Michael and gestured with his hand. “You go first.”
Michael tore the wrapping paper, crumpling it as he did, until he was left with a white shirt-type box in his lap. It was a little bigger, and there was more tape here, holding the top to the bottom. A lot of tape.
“Just open it! This is driving me crazy,” Tom said as Michael was inspecting the box.
“Fine, sheesh. Santa is impatient this year.”
“I have to get back to the North Pole. You know, elves, presents. It’s a big night tomorrow.”
Michael bit his lip and barely restrained himself from making a North Pole joke of his own. With his thumbs, he broke the tape on the box and lifted the lid, gingerly, like he expected something to leap out at him. And he kind of did.
Nothing jumped, but Michael stared at the contents before looking up at Tom. This was amazing. “Tom,” he whispered before looking back down at his lap.
Tom must have been holding onto this one for a while. Inside the box was a state-of-the-art guitar tuner, a package of picks, a wipe cloth and an awesome new guitar strap. He’d mentioned months ago, it had to have been right after his birthday – just before the show wrapped last year, that he needed new things for his guitar. Underneath one of the boxes was a package of strings for his acoustic and an envelope. He picked up and turned it over in his hands. “What’s this?”
“Well, I had no idea about what kind of guitar to get you. I don’t know crap about instruments…and I didn’t want to get something that you won’t like. So, it’s a gift certificate for the Sam Ash. I figured you could pick out something.”
Michael’s hands were full and he had no idea what to say. He wanted to hug Tom, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. He pushed everything back into the box and shoved it onto the coffee table. Twisting, he wrapped his arms around Tom anyway, figuring that it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t even a manly hug with the pats on the back. It was a real hug and when Tom hugged him back, it was worth it.
They were both still grinning when they finally let go. “Thank you, Tom. This is just amazing.” He kept picking things up from the box and then setting them back inside. “Okay. Your turn. Open.”
“You’re like a little kid.”
Michael nodded. “Whatever. Just open.”
Tom picked up the package and pulled the bow off. He thrust it at Michael, managing to stick it to the top of his head. Scowling, Michael pulled it off and tossed it at Tom’s head. “Stop it. Come on! Open the present!”
Finally, Tom laughed and tore into the wrapping paper. He didn’t notice the copious amounts of tape that Michael had used himself, or the paper-patch that he’d had to use of a completely different paper when he had ran out. At least he pretended not to notice.
He was left with the box that had actually left Michael the most nervous. It was from the expensive men’s store in town, and he’d done a lot of research to get the gift right. A lot more than he did with any of his other friends. It involved covert ops in stealing Tom’s clothing to get the right sizes and of course a lookout when it was put back. Plus, there was the kind of leather, and the color…
It had taken him hours to pick it out and then there was even a half-frantic call to Jamie to make sure that Tom hadn’t decided that he was some kind of animal activist since he’d bought the gift.
Tom opened the box and sucked in a breath. Michael watched his face for reaction and was so relieved to see actual happiness that he almost leaped across the paper and hugged his friend again. He’d gotten Tom a long, leather, black trench coat. It was the softest leather that he could have imagined and it smelled heavenly. He’d searched forever to find one that had a belt closure, but didn’t have the stupid looking wing thing at the back. There wasn’t a question of cost, it wasn’t like he was hurting for cash, and when he’d found the one he’d bought, he’d just about fallen in love with it.
If they’d had one in his size, he might have just bought one for himself and given Tom another gift certificate. From the look on Tom’s face it was a good idea he’d gone with the coat. Tom stood and started to unbuckle the belt that was holding his red pants up.
Michael had no idea what he was doing. He watched as Tom shrugged the heavy, furred jacket off to reveal a plain white t-shirt. Jesus. Michael could stand torture, but this was beyond that. It took all of his willpower not to jump up and lick the bead of sweat that had formed on Tom’s forehead.
He was practically a saint. Just look at how he restrained himself from molesting Tom.
He definitely deserved to be on Santa’s good list.
Tom did, too, because he looked so fucking awesome in that coat that Michael was having a few problems breathing. Trying to steady himself, and mentally talking himself out of leaping up and kissing Tom, Michael was shocked when Tom dragged him up and took the decision out of his hands.
Soft, full lips dropped onto his own and Michael’s little noise of surprise must have shocked Tom because he drew back suddenly and stumbled back, tripping over the gift-sack he’d left at his feet. “Sorry, sorry. Shit, Mike, I didn’t mean to do that.”
He looked panicked and Michael almost laughed. “Tom,” he said, trying to get his attention. It looked like he might run for the door. “Tom,” Michael repeated a little louder and finally, Tom looked up. “It’s okay.” Michael took a step forward.
“Why don’t we sit down? I think we both have another gift to open.” Michael sat and patted the couch next to him.
Tom shook his head. “I…I don’t think I should.”
Michael sighed. “Would you sit down if I told you how much I wanted you to do that?”
“You…you didn’t mind?”
“Mind? Jesus, will you sit down?”
Tom sat. He was still wearing the leather coat. Michael pushed his other wrapped box into his hands and smiled. Tom stared down at it for a second before taking a deep breath and starting to unwrap it.
Michael was nowhere near as nervous about this gift as he was the last one. He knew that Tom didn’t have this CD and he knew that he liked the band.
He’d gotten Tom the Dave Matthews CD that had come out a couple of years ago, plus tickets to the concert that was going to be in Vancouver in a few months. A whole bunch of people from the cast had gone to the last one, and Michael had even bought tickets for himself. Maybe he’d drag Allison, if she wasn’t busy with her fiancé, along as his ‘date’ so he didn’t feel like a third wheel with Jamie and Tom.
Even though, after that kiss, everything might change. Part of him wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, but he couldn’t do it. Tom unwrapped the small box and smiled when he discovered its contents.
“You don’t have that CD, right?” Michael knew he didn’t. Tom had been complaining about his incomplete Dave collection a few weeks before, citing this one as the elusive one.
Tom shook his head. “Nope. You knew that. I was bitching about it right before we finished filming”
“I know. Just checking…maybe you’d gotten it since then.”
“Nah. I never get around to those kinds of things.”
There was a few seconds of awkward silence until Tom seemed to remember that he had another gift for Michael. He reached into the sack, still at his feet and pulled it out. “Here…this one is from both Jamie and me.”
Michael took it with a smile, but he really didn’t want to think about Jamie. Especially after that kiss, and what he’d had to restrain himself from doing before. This one, Michael could tell, was wrapped by someone with a lot more skill than he or Tom. The corners were precise, he could hardly tell where the tape was, and there were bows and ribbons on it. Everything was matching in color and the ribbons were even curly. Michael was a little afraid to ruin it by opening it.
Tom watched carefully as Michael ripped the paper off enthusiastically. There was a smile on his face again – so maybe everything would be okay. Layers of tissue paper and Michael finally got inside and Tom had been sort of right before. It was two t-shirts. The first one was from the Dukes of Hazzard. He had to chuckle when he saw Schneider’s face smiling face and the General Lee emblazoned on the front. Tom was grinning when he looked up at him.
“This is the coolest thing. I loved the Dukes when I was growing up.”
“I knew that. I remember when John showed you his General Lee. You talked about it for weeks.”
Michael smiled and went back to the box. The other shirt was a bright blue color and had white lettering on the front that just said simply, ‘you wish.’ Michael let out a bark of laughter. “Where on earth did she find these?”
Tom shrugged. “I have no idea. But they are pretty great, aren’t they?”
Michael nodded. The crumpled wrapping paper surrounded them on the floor and he started to pick it up. Tom helped and when they grabbed the same piece, Michael’s hand brushed his and they both jerked back.
“Tom,” Michael whispered.
“I should go. Merry Christmas.” He stood up and pulled off the leather coat he was still wearing. He folded it neatly and put it back in the box that it had come in. He shrugged the red Santa coat back on and folded the belt before shoving it in the pocket. “I’m really sorry. Thanks for the gifts. I really like the coat.” He put the box into the sack, along with his CD and tickets.
“You don’t have to go, Tom. I…I’m sorry. You just startled me. I mean…if I’d been ready for that kiss, it may have ended differently.”
Tom stopped. “Differently how?” He turned around.
“Well, instead of just standing there like a dumbass, I might have kissed you back.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And then, instead of us opening the rest of the gifts, I might have decided to open something else, Tom. You’re gorgeous, you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and…”
Tom stepped closer. “You’re sure?”
Michael nodded and this time when Tom kissed him, he did kiss back. He opened his mouth, letting Tom inside and let himself be drawn completely into it. It was so much better than he’d imagined. Tom pulled back, took a big gulp of air and then dove back in for another kiss.
“Tom. Tom,” Michael tried to break in. “What about Jamie?”
“I don’t want to talk about her. This has nothing to do with her.”
“Okay.” Michael didn’t want to talk about her either. He just didn’t want to be the cause of anything between the two of them. “Let’s sit.” He pulled away slightly and took Tom’s hand, leading him to the couch.
“No more talking. More making out.”
Michael had to grin as Tom leaned towards him. Their chests met and Michael was reminded of just how amazing Tom was. Before he realized, he found himself stretched out on the couch with Tom on top of him. Their thighs aligned, their crotches brushed against each other and Michael couldn’t stop the groan.
Jesus, Tom was hard and something twisted in Michael’s stomach. He wanted him so much.
Michael pulled back, panting, and arched up into Tom. “Do you want to fuck me?”
“God, Mike. I…” Tom thrust down and rubbed against him. So good. So right. “Can I?”
It felt like something was buzzing inside him. This was really going to happen. He’d imagined and dreamed…but this was almost unbelievable.
“I have everything that we need in my bedroom.”
“I don’t want to move,” Tom groaned. He leaned down for another kiss. “You feel too good.”
“I know. But…we need lube and a condom and…those things aren’t out here.” Michael had no idea how his brain was still being logical. Another thrust and Michael groaned again. “I want you inside me,” he whispered.
“God. Okay.” Tom twisted onto his knees and slid off the couch. “Okay,” he repeated and stood up to help Michael to his feet.
Michael led the way to his bedroom. On the way, he pulled his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants. The room was kind of messy – he wasn’t expecting company – but he really didn’t care. When Michael turned around, he realized that on Tom’s way to the bedroom, he’d removed everything but his boxers. They were Christmas themed, red with a picture of a sprig of mistletoe right over his very erect cock.
“Those are nice,” Michael said with a mischevious smile.
“Thanks.” Tom grinned back.
Michael pushed his own jeans down before he sat down on the bed. “Now, get over here.”
Tom must have gained some of his character’s super powers, because he moved so fast that Michael could barely see him. *That* was eagerness. He climbed onto the bed, and stretched out next to Michael.
“I…Michael. It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
Nodding, Michael agreed. “It’s been a while for me, too. I mean…”
“It’s okay. I get it.” Tom’s arms slid around him and pulled him in for another kiss. Their bodies molded together and it felt electric everywhere that Tom’s skin touched him. Michael thought he might be going a little crazy.
Tom’s hand slid down his arm and rested on Michael’s hip. He was getting close. At least in proximity. Michael could feel is his cock twitching in response and Tom pulled back with a growl. “Where?”
“Drawer.” Michael fumbled to open the drawer closest to the bed. He winced when it was yanked out of his hand and fell to the floor. The stuff inside was probably spread everywhere, but Michael couldn’t bring himself to care. He managed to shift himself up to his elbows and kiss every part of Tom that he could reach.
Tom was leaning over him, reaching to the floor, and Michael was a little tired of waiting. He managed to wiggle out of his boxers and started in on Tom’s. He somehow got them part way down, and, instead of doing anything useful, like try to help Tom find the lube, he just wiggled.
“Fucking help me! You’re just doing that to make me go insane.”
Michael laughed as he leaned over and scooped up the lube and a loose condom. “Here. Do you know what you’re doing?”
Tom didn’t answer him with words. He stared at him for a second, meeting his eyes before he grabbed Michael’s legs and pushed them towards his chest. Deliberately, he squeezed lube onto his fingers, his eyes never leaving Michael’s.
“Oh, I know what I’m doing. Here, let me show you.”
A cool, slick finger slid inside of him, forcing a groan from Michael. Oh, Tom *did* know what he was doing. Shallow thrusts that Michael had to focus on. The finger kept twisting and curling – hitting spots inside of him that he had forgotten were there.
Tom added another finger and started to thrust a little harder. There was a goal now, a purpose – there was no doubt as to where they were headed with this. The fingers curled together, finding Michael’s prostate with apparent ease. “Jesus, Tom.”
“I told you I knew what I was doing.”
“I can tell,” Michael grunted. “Fuck. Harder.”
Obligingly, Tom pushed a little harder. Michael couldn’t help whimpering.
“Are you ready, Mike?”
He barely managed a nod. Michael vaguely felt Tom shift and settle closer to him. With the crinkle of the condom wrapper and a brief pause for more lube, Michael groaned when Tom’s cock breached his hole.
The slow burn as Tom pushed in pushed Michael back from the edge, for at least a few seconds. He panted until he could feel the tops of Tom’s thighs against the backs of his own. And so full. Tom’s cock filled him completely, but the first thrust sent tingling sensation up his spine.
“See?”
“Oh, God. Yes, Tom.” Michael had no idea what he was agreeing to. He’d agree to anything to get more of Tom’s cock. He started to get into the rhythm of it, raising to meet each of the thrusts inside.
Tom was trembling as he moved. Michael could feel his hands shaking even as they held onto his legs. There was grunting and low moaning, and when it stated to get louder, Michael somehow knew that Tom was close. Erratic thrusts, stabbing into his prostate, sent shivers through him.
Michael had to do something; he had to try to take control of one thing. His hand somehow found its way to his cock and he started to stroke. His jacking off and Tom’s irregular thrusts in no way matched up. It didn’t matter.
He could still feel sensation pooling in his belly and he was going to come. Tom started to chant his name in a low, sexy voice and that just pushed him closer.
“Please,” Michael begged. That earned a hard thrust and then Tom was crying out, voicing his final pleasure. His fingers dug into Michael’s hips as Tom held them still while he came.
Michael wasn’t far behind. The timbre of Tom’s voice was what did him in. Michael’s orgasm shot through him just as Tom’s hand wrapped around his cock to help. He vaguely felt Tom shift and pull out of his ass. Thankfully, Tom collapsed next to him as he caught his breath. Any other time a Tom-blanket would be appreciated, but Michael was still trying to make his brain work.
His panting filled the room, but Michael couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d just been fucked by Tom and he felt too good to care about much. A strong arm wrapped around him and hot breath drifted across his cheek as Tom snuggled closer. “Merry Christmas, Mike.”
“You, too.” Michael still couldn’t think enough to form a lot of words. “Can we do that again?”
A low chuckle, loud in his ear, but Tom’s voice sent shivers through him. “Oh, yeah. Soon. After all, Santa has to give you what you ask for.”
“This is the best Santa ever. I’ve never gotten this before when I asked.”
“You weren’t asking the right Santa.”
“Apparently not, Tom. Merry Christmas to you, too.” Michael shifted as close as he could to Tom.
He certainly had gotten what he’d asked for.
[ main l rps l fps ]
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