Candy Man (15 page)

But that didn’t keep him from planning after he went into Derek Huston’s office (that was the flirty guy with the business card) and talked to all the nice people who thought he was an investment client (hah!) and then drew their pictures. Huston cut him a nice check—Finn must have quoted a bigger price than Adam had in mind—but after Adam used it for a big bag of Clopper’s food and his art supplies, he still didn’t have much to shop with.

So he sat on it. He sat on the check and pondered, and worked his job, and lived his life—with Finn in it. Finn pretty much moved all his clothes into Rico’s apartment over the next week, and Adam didn’t object. He learned what it was like to wake up next to someone, and how sometimes they stole the blankets and sometimes they took
way
too long to have their morning BM and sometimes they woke you with a mouth on your cock, which made up for a lot of the other inconveniences. There was sex on tap—but more than that. There was a sweet touch on his hip when he was making dinner or a chattering voice telling him about Finn’s day when they were walking Rico’s oversize dog. There was a bouncy kid throwing a ping-pong ball for the comatose cat, sure that one day Jake would learn how to fetch, and a kind adult when….

When the Christmas card Adam sent his mom was returned with “No faggots allowed” scrawled on the back.

Finn didn’t
act
like a grown-up then—he ripped up the card and flushed it down the toilet and swore over it. Then he hugged Adam and cried, and Adam spent an hour calming him down and telling him that the world wasn’t like his parents, but Adam would never, ever let someone hurt Finn like the world had hurt Adam.

Finn looked up from that and hiccupped. “I’m crying for
you
, you dumbass. And I will
never
let anyone hurt you like that again.”

“You already protected me,” Adam said, wiping Finn’s cheek with his roughened thumb. “Just now. When you got mad for me. Took all the hurt away, baby. Mission accomplished.”

Finn smiled like the sun, and that took some more hurt away too.

And Adam thought harder for something to give him.

In the end, all he could think of was something that might hurt him more, but that, for Finn, would be beyond price.

H
E
AND
Finn were going to volunteer at the shelter on Christmas Day and then going to Finn’s family’s place afterward, but Christmas Eve was theirs. Adam had the feeling that the family probably gathered on Christmas Eve too, but Finn was sparing him, and he was grateful. Finn told him to expect a present, and Adam had bought—with his employee discount—a small basket of wrapped sweets, with one of those very cool tins in the shape of R2-D2, which would be appropriate to bring to someone’s house.

In his backpack, he had ready for Darrin and his coworkers the super-nice colored-in chibi version of Candy Heaven, with little chibi portraits of everyone he worked with, that he was planning to give to everyone when he went in for his half-day shift that morning. And he had taken his best portrait of Finn and drawn it again, adding pastels for color and spraying fixer on it so it would last longer. He bought a frame for it, and on one rare day when Finn worked and he didn’t, he wrapped it all up, and that was what he would give Finn on Christmas Eve.

But it wasn’t the real present. Not really. The real present was something he couldn’t really be there for when Finn opened it.

Finn had Christmas Eve off, so Adam got up early and walked the dog. He came in chilled on the outside from the foggy cold and warm on the inside from anticipation, and even the dog seemed subdued, because what Adam was about to do, that was huge.

Adam put it off until after his shower because he and Finn had been up late the night before. Yeah, they’d had some
rockin’
sex, but after that they’d had one of those weird, dreamy conversations that happened when you were supposed to be going to sleep but there always seemed to be one more thing to say, one more precious piece of communication that
absolutely needed
to be shared.

It had been one of the most intimate moments of Adam’s life, and he was going to put a capper on it now—right before he ran for the hills like the coward he knew himself to be.

When Adam got out of the shower, Finn was still sleeping, one bare pink shoulder peeping out from under the white comforter. Adam had started to wish heartily for enough money to buy some of his own stuff, because Rico’s apartment was sort of boring—white and cream and ecru. Rico didn’t have any Christmas decorations. Adam and Finn had spent a giddy, giggly evening gluing paper chains together to strew around the living room, but that was all they had. Adam loved color as an artist—and he hated to see Finn surrounded by anything less than brilliance.

Someday, he thought. Lights for Christmas and saturated colors in a home that was theirs. But not today.

Today he had one thing he could give Finn, and he was dressed and ready for the mile run to the bus stop and then the half-mile run to work. The time had come to give it.

He held the sketchbook tightly in his hands as he walked into the bedroom and stretched out next to Finn, savoring his smell and the mammal warmth that pervaded the room from his nest in the covers. The cat was curled up right behind Finn’s neck, and Adam sort of loved that whenever Finn’s usually active body went still, the cat was all over that action. Right now he reached out and moved the unresisting body so Finn could roll over without crushing him—not that Jake would notice.

“Finn? Baby, wake up a sec, okay? You can go back to sleep when I leave.”

Finn smiled a little and peered up at Adam from bleary eyes. Freckles. Adam wanted to see baby pictures of Finn so he could see how many freckles he’d had as a kid, because not all of those had faded away. “What’s up?” Finn mumbled.

“I got something for you, but I want you to look at it when I’m gone, okay?”

Finn squinted, refocused, and squinted again. “You want me to what?”

“Look, it’s… it’s like a Christmas present, but this one’s sort of sad. The one that will make you happy is tomorrow, so I want you to look at this one today, okay?”

Finn pushed up on one elbow, his grumpy morning face settling into concerned lines. “Adam, is that your—”

“Yeah. It’s my old sketchbook. Like… like me. Good, bad, ugly. Me. So, now it’s yours. And I gotta go to work, so, if you hate everything in here, could you not tell me until after Christmas? Because I… I never had someone for Christmas, and I just… if you can’t deal with me because of this, I would just prefer you pretend or something until December 26—”

Finn placed a bony, long-fingered hand over Adam’s mouth. “Stop,” he commanded quietly. Moving his fingers, he took the sketchbook from Adam’s reluctant hands. “This is precious and important, and it’s not going to scare me away.”

Adam swallowed and nodded. “’Kay. Ain’t nobody… I mean nobody has seen this before. Just… I know this is fast. A month. But you mean that much to me, Finn.”

Finn nodded and pushed forward into a brief kiss. “Okay. It’s okay. Go to work. It’s in good hands.”

Adam contorted his lips and hoped it passed for a smile, then made sure to grab his backpack before he bolted out of the apartment.

He wondered how he was going to make it through the day.

A
DAM
KNEW
that the store closed early on the day before Christmas and opened early the day after, but he was not prepared for the two hours of cleanup after they closed to be one big office staff party.

Normally he wouldn’t have cared—he would have taken his cookies and said thank you and walked away.

But now he had the silly little chibi drawings, and instead of Adam just handing them out discreetly and running away, they were part of the big gift-giving frenzy that the entire staff participated in at the end.

The frenzy had no rhyme or reason. If you worked with someone and liked them, you gave them a present. If you didn’t know them, you didn’t. No feelings were hurt, no fights broke out—people just got presents and were happy.

And everyone got the little scrolled chibis with a whole lot of happy. Adam was reduced to smiling shyly a lot and saying, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it,” at least six hundred times.

And he was surprised to get some presents of his own.

Three people brought cookies, and he ended up with three plates—actual plates, not paper—of cookies, and one that held a hot-chocolate basket. When he realized that the plates matched and that the four gift-givers were Anish, Ravi, Darby, and Joni, he figured they’d gotten together and done it on purpose. Look! He had four plates and matching mugs—and cookies. And hot chocolate.

And a hooded Sac State sweatshirt from Darrin.

He looked at it, surprised, thinking that the bright green and gold made a change from the plain old dark blue hoodie he’d worn until the sleeves were ragged and the lining had all but disappeared.

“How do you even know I’ll be able to get in?” he asked, feeling humble. It was a really great gift.

Darrin rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother me with bullshit.” He smirked. “I knew you’d walk through my door, I know you’ll walk through that one.”

Some of Adam’s roiling worry about Finn disappeared, and he gave Darrin probably his best smile of the day. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s nice that someone’s got some faith.”

Darrin sucked on his Pixy Stix coquettishly and smiled. “Besides that guy, who has all the faith in the world, right?”

Adam heard a knocking on the locked door right then and turned to see Finn, his fleece hat buttoned firmly around his ears and a rather wistful smile on his face. Adam hustled to let him in, glad that they’d made plans for Finn to pick him up, because he didn’t know how he’d get all the plates with food on them home if he didn’t.

Finn took a step in and grabbed Adam by the shirtfront, then hauled him outside.

“Hey, all my stuff—”

Finn kissed him ravenously, like he’d been starving for Adam all his life. Adam reached under him, cupped his bottom, and hefted, happy when Finn hopped up and wrapped his legs around Adam’s waist. They kissed until Adam’s arms trembled and he had to set Finn down. They pulled away, resting foreheads against each other.

“That was awesome. What was it for?”

To his horror, Finn made a sound like a hiccupping child. When Adam peered into his face, he saw the telltale signs—red-rimmed eyes, slightly swollen nose—and hated himself.

“I’m sorry,” Adam mumbled, using his thumb to smooth away yet another tear. “It’s like this is all I’m doing to you. I didn’t mean—”

“Sometimes tears are happy, Adam,” Finn muttered, catching his hand. “Didn’t anyone tell you that? It was the best gift ever. In a million years. It was all of you, and some of it hurt me and I wanted to burn it for you, and some of it was beautiful and…. Thank you. Just… you know. Thank you.”

Adam exhaled shakily. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

This kiss was less starvation and more harmony, which was okay. Adam needed that too.

The kiss ended, and Finn came inside and said hello to everybody. On their way out, Miguel stopped them, putting a hand on Finn’s sleeve. Miguel was one of the guys Adam didn’t know well, but he seemed pretty familiar to Finn.

“Finn—I didn’t know you and Adam had hooked up. Go you! I’ve been trying to get his attention since he walked in!”

Adam blinked at him. He looked like a slightly browner, taller version of Finn—darker hair, same cheekbones, blue eyes, same build.

Different smile—this one a little more guarded, a little less open to the world.

“I had no idea,” Adam said, slightly panicked, feeling sort of guilty.

Finn winked at Miguel and shrugged. “I’m not sure how it happened,” he said. “But I’m really lucky.”

Adam nodded at Miguel, a little embarrassed and a lot eager to be alone with Finn. He grabbed Finn’s hand and let himself be pulled to the minivan, which was parked about half a block down by one of the meters.

“You totally lied,” he said as he slid into the passenger seat, and Finn looked at him in surprise.

“How do you figure?”

“You totally stalked me. You said you weren’t sure how it happened. You… you brought me food and made me come to your workplace and took me shopping and all but attacked me in the minivan, and I didn’t have a
chance
against you! You were everywhere. I was going to totally fall in love with you whether I liked it or not, and it’s just a good thing you were awesome, or I would have been fucking
doomed
!”

Finn was laughing hard—so hard that for a minute, Adam was afraid as he negotiated Christmas Eve traffic. But Finn had been born in this city—had grown up in his parents’ house—and he was secure and comfortable when Adam might have been a little apprehensive. He took them directly home, although Adam thought they needed groceries. But when he suggested they stop for some, Finn waved his hand.

“No. I’ve got a plan.”

“Well, I think we just covered that I like your plans.”

“Good.” Finn pulled in front of the apartment, lucky because there wasn’t always space here. The week before, he’d had to park at his parents’ house and walk. “Because I’ve made some plans for tonight.”

He pulled Adam up to the apartment, and they braced themselves for the dog storming out. Adam had dreaded the dog’s charge for the first couple of weeks, but now, after Gonzo, he sort of saw it as healthy.

That and Clopper listened to him when he said, “Down, dammit, down!” which meant it wasn’t quite as bad as before.

Tonight the obedience was extra spiffy because, well….

“Wow,” Adam murmured, trying not to choke up. He smiled over his shoulder. “Look what you did!”

“Had help,” Finn confessed. “Mari and Peter came over, and Christopher brought the tree.”

“It’s….” Christmas. A tree—moderately sized, of course—stood strewn with popcorn and cranberries, paper ornaments, and, best of all, colored lights. In fact, the colored lights were twisted with the paper chains. The effect was busy and inharmonious and too bright and…