“Prissy,” RJ murmured in Aaron’s ear, too low for anyone else to hear.
“He just knows what he likes and is willing to wait for it,” LeeLee said. “There’s no shame in that.” She winked, clearly indicating that RJ was further evidence of this.
Aaron took the photo from RJ’s hands and put it aside, tearing into his own gift—yes, a sweater—to hide his still-red cheeks. He was embarrassed but somehow thrilled too. RJ’s reaction was a gift that made the photo even better.
The night wounddown slowly. Cousins drifted off and out of the house one by one, taking their rowdy or sleeping kids with them. The snow started to come down around dinnertime, but they ignored it, assuming that it wouldn’t stick. But by the time Aaron and RJ had helped Rutty with the dishes and put the house back to rights, the tire tracks from where the cousins had left were all covered up, and there was a good foot and a half of snow on the ground. RJ knew there was no way they were driving anywhere.
“Might as well wait until morning,” Rutty said, clapping his hands on their shoulders. “The roads out this way don’t get salted and it’s dark. I’d feel better about you making it home safely in the morning light.”
RJ didn’t protest, catching Aaron’s eye though to make sure he was comfortable with it.
“You two can share your old room,” Rutty said. “I changed the sheets in case you wanted to stay over anyway.”
RJ followed Aaron upstairs, and they both said an only slightly awkward good night to Rutty on the landing before going in separate directions. RJ pulled his phone out as he walked, sending a fast text to his mother to let her know that he’d gotten snowed in but that he’d be home for sure by noon the next day.
“The kids are going to be so mad at me,” he said as he shut the door of Aaron’s old room behind him and gazed around with curiosity in his eyes. “I promised I’d be home for Christmas morning.”
“We can get up early.”
“They’ll be up before dawn,” RJ said, walking over to a framed photo on the wall. It was of what looked to be a seven-year-old Aaron kissing the snout of a baby pig by the barn. “Mom was complaining about how she won’t get to sleep in on Christmas Day for the next ten years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I wanted to come here tonight. I’m glad I did. Meeting your family was sweet. And that picture of you with Santa…” He laughed softly. “I can’t believe your dad gave it to me.”
“I don’t think he understands the kind of relationship we’re in.”
RJ turned away from the pig picture. “I think he understands perfectly.”
Aaron’s eyebrow twitched up. “That’s the kind of gift you give someone who will want it in ten years’ time. Not someone who—”
“I’ll want that picture in ten years’ time,” RJ whispered, coming closer to Aaron with his hands outstretched. He grabbed Aaron by the hips and dragged him close. “I’ll want that picture for the rest of my life.”
“But—”
“Shh.” RJ nuzzled Aaron’s neck and whispered, “We’re supposed to be seeing where this goes. Stop trying to control or define it. Just let it be.”
“Me?” Aaron shivered as RJ’s lips traced his jaw. “I’m not the control freak here.”
“Oh, baby, of course you are.” RJ laughed, his breath hot on Aaron’s earlobe. “That’s why you love it when I take it away from you.”
Tension hung between them. RJ held Aaron close. White snow piled up on the windowsill. Coldness seeped in from an unseen crack in the wall, and Aaron shivered.
“RJ?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“We’ll figure it out together.”
Aaron clung to RJ’s broad shoulders, pressing so close he could feel RJ’s heartbeat through his nice, button-up shirt. “I’m scared to hope.”
“You’re not alone in that.”
Aaron released RJ and pulled out his phone to send a text of his own before undressing. The cold from the crack continued to seep in, and RJ watched as Aaron got down to just his underwear and jerked back the quilts and slipped beneath them.
“I have a present for you,” RJ said as he stripped to his boxer briefs.
