Love Is ...

Disclaimer: As usual, not mine, I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox.
Note: *sigh* This has to hold the record for the most rewrites I've ever done on a fic – and that doesn't include the six or so pages of the first version I'm keeping on file for maybe working it into another story one day. Details about Eric's personal history come from Cmar's stories Red Fire, Booty Call and Turns In The Road. (For adult versions of some chapters, please visit her section on Rangerfiction.net!) Oh, and I know it's really too soon for a Christmas story, but I wanted to stick to the "gift" premise, so … you get it a bit early. Deal.  Sequel/second half to Cmar's birthday present; enjoy, and please pass by the feedback box on your way out?

Love Is …
Part 2: Eric

Prologue: 'Tis The Season To Be Jolly

"Where the hell have you been, and what the hell is that?!?"

Wes grinned at Eric as he staggered into the house, his arms laden with boxes and packages.

"Hello to you, too. I was out shopping."

"No shit," Eric commented dryly, relieving Wes of a goodly portion of his load. He dumped them unceremoniously in a hallway corner, surprised at how little weight those unwieldy boxes actually had.

"Careful! Some of that is fragile," Wes yelped, putting the rest down much more carefully. Then he shook out his arms with a small grimace. "Man. That was awkward to carry."

"You could've called me out to help," Eric pointed out, taking Wes' beret, utility belt and uniform jacket and hanging them up on the clothes rack.

"Well, yeah, but then I'd have spoiled the surprise," his partner smiled, kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his uniform jacket and finally moved in to kiss him. "Mmm. It's good to be home at last. It's been one hell of a long day," he murmured against Eric's lips.

"So why did you make it even longer by going shopping?" Eric replied, smiling slightly at the enthusiastic greeting he'd become used to in the months since Wes had moved in with him. "And shopping for what, anyway?"

Wes smiled back rather sheepishly. "Well … you know that I was over at the docks, to check out those warehouses we're supposed to guard next week? They have some serious surveillance issues … anyway," he recalled himself when he saw Eric raise an eyebrow at his tangent, "I was passing Home Depot on my way back, and they were putting up this huge billboard advertising a special sale on Christmas decorations, so … I just decided to stop and check 'em out."

"Christmas decorations," Eric echoed, his expression going blank.

"Uh huh. It's December 1 tomorrow, we have nothing put up yet, and I got some great bargains! Just wait until you see everything," Wes said excitedly. "I'll show you after dinner." He fairly bounded towards the kitchen, where the tantalizing smell of the lasagna Eric had started earlier beckoned from the oven. "Damn, I'm hungry," he said, starting to lay the table. "How long until dinner's ready?"

"Ten minutes or so," Eric replied, having followed more slowly. His dark eyes were shuttered, and he was keeping his features carefully neutral.

Wes didn't notice; he was too wrapped up in his plans to get the house ready for Christmas, as he called it. As the two men sat down and ate their dinner, he rambled enthusiastically about where and how he intended to decorate the outside, what kind of tree he planned to buy, where to set it up and whatnot. Eric barely said a word; not that it mattered for once, as Wes was doing more than enough talking for both of them. However, when he started to discuss the merits of colored twinkling lights versus plain white ones, Eric reached his limit.

"How about neither," he interrupted his partner curtly. "Frankly, I couldn't care less."

Startled, Wes looked at him with wide eyes. "But it's our first Christmas together," he protested. "I mean, really together, under the same roof!"

"So?"

"So when do you plan to start decorating?"

"I don't do Christmas, in case you haven't noticed."

"Well, yeah, but I thought that was because you … uh, because we …" he gulped, not quite knowing what to say as he caught the sudden spark in Eric's dark eyes.

"Because we what?" Eric asked, his voice dangerously mild.

Wes flushed and stared down at his plate. "I thought you didn't bother with decorations because you had nobody around to enjoy them with," he mumbled finally. "And since I'm living here now, too …"

"I 'haven't bothered' as you call it because I don't want to break my neck climbing up and down ladders hanging lights only to do it all over again to take 'em down a month from now," Eric told him sarcastically. "But the main reason is because the folks in the neighborhood don't have the money to buy that stuff in the first place, or to pay the electric bill afterwards."

Reluctantly, Wes nodded. "Okay. I hadn't thought of that. But we can afford to-"

"Sure, we can. But are you gonna rub it into everybody's face that they make less money than we do?"

"Well … no."

"Didn't think so."

Reluctantly, Wes abandoned all ideas of stringing lights along the roof. "How about at least putting up a tree, or hanging a wreath or garland on the front door?"

"What for?" Eric asked, making an impatient gesture. "Are you gonna hang a tree from the ceiling? We have hardly enough room as it is. And don't give me crap about 'everybody does it', or 'it'll look nice'; I don't give a rat's ass about either!"

Sighing, Wes shook his head, got up from the table and started clearing away the dishes. "Never mind," he murmured, hiding his disappointment. "It's not that important."

He tried several times to change Eric's mind over the next couple of weeks, always with the same result – Eric flat-out refused to do anything about Christmas except what consideration for their co-workers demanded of him.

"Just let it go already, okay? All that touchy-feely stuff, the glitter and fake snow is a load of hogwash anyway, and I'll be damned if I follow some fucking custom just because everybody else is stupid enough to do it. No decorations, and that's final. Got it?" Eric's eyes were steely, and Wes knew from experience that further arguments would be futile.

"Yeah, I got it. Loud and clear," he said, his face a bland mask for once.

"About time," Eric grumbled, and buried himself behind the newspaper.

Two days later, Wes quietly returned the decorations to Home Depot.


***


Love Is … Exorcising Ghosts of Christmas Past


On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, Wes was taking care of a few last details in his office when Eric dropped in unexpectedly.

"Hey. Sorry, I'm not quite done yet," Wes told him with a smile. "I really need to finish this report; it has to go out first thing in the morning day after tomorrow."

"No problem," Eric replied. "How long do you think you're gonna need?"

"About an hour, why?"

"Just asking." He stared at his boots for a few moments, then looked up. "You know that vista point, just off exit 13 on the northern highway?" he asked without preamble.

"Yeah, sure." It was little more than a bend in the road, halfway up in the mountains, that offered an excellent view over most of Silver Hills, right down to the beach. It was also a very lonely spot.

Eric nodded once, tersely. "Okay. Meet me there at seven?"

"Sure." Puzzled, Wes watched his partner leave before he could even ask why Eric wanted to drive so far out of town. What in heaven's name did Eric want to go up there for – on Christmas Eve too, right after nightfall? It was a good place to park the car if one wanted to go hiking, but somehow he doubted that was what Eric had planned.

*Well, guess I'll find out once I get there.*

It was the perfect incentive to make Wes get back to work. Once he was done, he drove home, took a leisurely shower, shaved, and with a small anticipatory grin turned down the bed. He also switched on a low-volt reading lamp, laid out a bottle of their favorite lube and readied some towels. Eric might have nixed a more traditional Christmas, but that didn't mean they couldn't celebrate the holidays in their own special fashion, did it? As an afterthought, he also fetched a bottle of red wine and two glasses, placing them on the nightstand. Finally, he set the room's thermostat to just the right temperature – both for the wine and … whatever else. He was done just in time to make their rendezvous in the mountains.

*

As soon as Wes' car turned the corner at the end of the street, a grey minivan pulled up to the house. Two men and one woman got out, let themselves in and closed the door firmly behind them. After nearly an hour of stealthy yet hurried activity, they left, carefully locking the house again before they drove off.

*

Darkness had fallen completely when Wes reached the small promontory near exit 13. Eric was already there, standing at the far end of the guard rail. Slowly, Wes crossed the road to join him, his shoes crunching on the gravel as he approached the lonely figure.

"Hey," Wes said quietly as he was only a few feet away. "Here I am, seven sharp, like you asked me to."

"Yeah," Eric replied, giving him a small smile. "Thanks."

Wes waited for him to say more, but nothing was forthcoming. Slightly bewildered, he took a closer look at his partner … and suddenly noticed that Eric's stance couldn't be more tense if they were both morphed and about to take down a whole group of armed criminals. *Uh-oh.*

"Is something wrong?" he asked at last. "You seem … I dunno, upset. Are you?"

"Not really."

*Oh, great. Communicative, are we? Not!* Rolling his eyes frustratedly over Eric's habit of sometimes being close-mouthed to the point of irritation, Wes decided that the direct approach might work best. As usual.

"Eric, what's the matter?" Wes came to stand by his partner's side and touched his shoulder. "I'm not trying to pry, I'll wait until you're ready to talk, but even an idiot can see that something's got you all worked up."

Eric remained silent, even turned his face away.

Wes let his hand fall back to his side. "I'm right here to help, but I can't do that if I don't know what you might need help with," he murmured with a hint of sadness.

"I don't need help, exactly," Eric said at last. "It's just … there's something I've got to tell you. I just don't know how."

"Any way you want," Wes replied without hesitation, keeping his tone soft and soothing. "I can deal with everything, as long as it's not that you're kicking me out."

That garnered him a fleeting glance and smile. "Not gonna happen."

"Then take your time. Whenever you're ready."

"Thanks."


***


Wes waited patiently until Eric was ready. Suddenly the wind, only a light breeze until now, picked up and grew chilly; he shivered involuntarily and drew his jacket more closely around himself, burying his hands in the pockets.

The small movement was enough to draw Eric out of his brooding and prompted him into speaking at last. When he did, though, he was going in a direction Wes hadn't expected.

"It's Christmas Eve today."

"Uh, yeah." *Eric – stating the blatantly obvious? What the hell is going on?*

"What did you do on the holidays – as a kid, I mean?"

"I take it you mean more than the obvious, like eating turkey, exchanging presents and stuff?" Wes replied carefully, feeling his way around the unexpected minefield.

"Uh huh," Eric nodded. "Any special memories, or something?"

"Actually, yes." Casting his mind back to his childhood and early adolescence, Wes had to smile. "You know my collection of classic adventure novels? Dad started that for me the Christmas after Mom died. He often was too busy to read me a bedtime story each night, so he came up with the idea to make reading to me into special occasions throughout the year – like on Christmas Eve. The first book he started with was Dr. Seuss; later, he gave me Grimm's Fairy Tales, the Hardy Boys … all the stories he'd read as a boy. When I grew old enough to understand them, Dad went on to Treasure Island, Ivanhoe, Tom Sawyer, Gulliver's Travels, Robinson Crusoe – you name it, I got them. And he'd always at least start reading them to, or with, me."

"Sounds great."

"It was. Sure, I got other, more tangible presents as well, but in retrospect that hour or two I spent with Dad, right beside the Christmas tree, was always the highlight of the holidays. Of course I grew too old to be read to after a few years, but he would still give me special books each year and we'd share time reading together."

"How long did you do that?"

Wes glanced over at his partner, wondering whether Eric was going somewhere with this question.

"Until last year, actually. I guess with him now married to Lina and me having moved out, it's finally over, but it's definitely one of my best memories," Wes added with a rueful chuckle.

Eric bowed his head and gripped the guard rail. "You had it pretty good as a kid, then."

"I guess, but it wasn't as if Dad spoiled me. Sure, I got most of the things I wanted, whether for my birthday or Christmas – a bike, karate lessons, a trip to Disneyland, that kind of stuff. But the presents weren't what made Christmas special; it was spending time around the tree with the person who was closest to me." *Like I wanted to with you.* Wes cleared his throat, abandoning the past for the here and now.

"Why do you ask? You never have before."

"Just curious."

*Yeah, right …* Belatedly, Wes remembered with a pang that Eric's own childhood memories were hardly likely to be as happy.

"I'm sorry, Eric; I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I wanted to know," Eric replied distantly, still not meeting his eyes. "No need to apologize."

"Still …"

A sharp glance from hooded dark eyes silenced Wes. "Forget it."

"How can I, when it bothers you so obviously?"

Eric swallowed once. He really hated telling Wes about his past, before they even knew each other, but felt that this once, he had no choice. *Screw feeling uncomfortable; Wes deserves an explanation!*

"Haven't you wondered why I don't do Christmas?"

Wes coughed. "Well, yeah. I, ah, I assumed you don't care for how commercial the holidays have become," he fumbled. "And that maybe you might have some, um, not so good memories."

"You could say that." Eric's voice turned low and almost vicious as he dredged up memories from his childhood he would've preferred to forget completely.

"You already know that I grew up dirt-poor, right? Well, nobody in our trailer park cared about decorations. No matter what I saw on TV, I knew I wasn't gonna get any of that at our house – I was lucky when my old lady at least remembered to buy food before she spent the rest on booze." Eric snorted. "The jerk she was married to used to take it out on me when Mom drank her breakfast, lunch and dinner … and ours as well. I learned early to keep away from both of them as much as possible when I didn't want to end up black and blue all over."

Before Wes could even think of anything to say, Eric continued.

"One time, a neighbor gave me a toy his kids had outgrown – a remote-controlled car. It was all scratched up and dented, but I didn't care; I'd never owned anything that cool. I was racing the thing around the table legs on Christmas morning, and accidentally bumped into the cup Dad had put on the floor next to his chair. He freaked when the coffee spilled all over the carpet. First, he beat me up … and then, for good measure, forced me to take a hammer and smash my car so I wouldn't do it again."

Wes clenched his teeth so hard, his jaws hurt. He'd known Eric's childhood had been bad, but not how bad. "Didn't your mother help you? At all?"

"Her? The only thing the bitch did was complain about the noise we were making; said my crying gave her a headache. That was before she passed out on the couch again, of course." Eric gave a short, bitter laugh. "Not that it mattered much; a year later, they were both gone who knows where anyway."

His mouth dry, Wes was at a loss for words. He had a feeling Eric would reject any expression of sympathy on principle, mistaking it for pity. Besides, what could he say? 'I'm sorry'? Totally lame and inadequate.

"What about that foster family you were with? Didn't they celebrate Christmas?" he ventured at last.

"Oh yeah." Eric tugged at his collar, as if he needed more room to breathe. "Until they found out I was gay. They called DCS right away. As things turned out, I had to leave for a group home right before the holidays. After that … Christmas could go hang for all I cared."

Wes slowly shook his head. "Man. I had no idea," he said hoarsely. "I mean, I kinda guessed it wasn't all smiles and roses for you as a kid, but I never thought you missed out on something so … well, universal."

"Now you do. It's not something I like to recall."

"I get that – now." Wes chose his next words with great care. "But Eric, why didn't you tell me any of this four weeks ago, when we nearly had a fight over those decorations I'd bought? I'm deeply touched that you could share as much as you just did, that you trust me enough, but you didn't have to go into all those details. All I ever wanted or needed was a reason, something beyond 'you don't do Christmas'. Why not simply tell me you had too many bad memories? I would've understood."

The harsh gleam left Eric's eyes, to be replaced by a rather bemused expression. "Somehow, that never occurred to me," he muttered, then let a slightly sheepish smile slip through his barriers. "Guess I never believe things can be that simple."

"They are for me," Wes replied quietly, daring to touch Eric's cheek at last. "At least where you are concerned."

Eric covered Wes' hand with his own, slightly leaning into the warm palm. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Wes shook him slightly. "There had better not be a 'next time', you stubborn idiot," he glared, then softened the epithet with a smile. "Ever. You hear that?"

"Yeah." Eric sighed. "Let's go back," he said abruptly, feeling tired and drained. "It's getting late and too damned cold to stay up here."

"Good idea. I could do with some food, too; my stomach's beginning to think I've cut my throat," Wes agreed. They would take time later, when the atmosphere between them was no longer quite so emotionally charged, to discuss the matter in more depth, but for tonight … it was enough.


***


They arrived home almost simultaneously, parking their cars side by side. The small house was dark and silent, but for the first time in weeks Wes wasn't bothered by it. They hung up their jackets and Wes was about to suggest that they slap a couple of steaks on the grill, nuke a couple of potatoes in the microwave and maybe add a salad when he noticed Eric casting a furtive glance towards the living room. The door was closed, and Wes frowned slightly; he didn't remember pulling it shut after him.

"Did you close the door before we left?"

Eric hesitated, then shook his head. "Nah."

"Weird. I don't think I did, either."

"Maybe you're getting forgetful in your old age," Eric said lightly, grinning when Wes mock-glared at him.

"Watch it who you're calling old; you're only a couple months younger than me." A sudden thought made Wes stiffen. "You don't think somebody broke into the house, do you?"

"Not very likely; this isn't exactly Burglary Central."

"Hmm, yeah. Maybe just some kids looking for liquor, or something. We'd better check."

"Maybe we should," Eric agreed, trying hard to contain the butterflies dive-bombing in his stomach. Would Wes accept the surprise he'd arranged for him as the apology-cum-peace offering he meant it as? He could only hope. "You go first."

"Right. Weapons?" Wes was already moving towards the door, lowering his voice to a cautious whisper. He raised an eyebrow when his partner just shook his head no, then shrugged inwardly. Eric was right; if they did catch kids raiding their drinks cabinet, they'd only scare them to death by pointing firearms at them; besides, it wasn't as if the two of them weren't capable of dealing with an intruder or two, armed or not.

Slowly, carefully, he turned the door knob. The lock unlatched with a soft 'snick' and Wes peered inside, all senses fully alert. No sound came from the room, but he caught a flicker of light through the gap between the door and the jamb.

*Fire?* No, it was a steady glow, not the dance of open flames, and Wes pushed the door open wider. Still no movement or sound. He could feel Eric right behind him, waiting and ready, so Wes flung the door back in one smooth move and stepped into the living room.

It was empty.

Adrenaline rushed out of Wes like water down a drain, and he finally remembered to release the breath he'd been holding. Running a practiced eye around the walls, Wes checked to see whether anything was missing; the room seemed exactly like they'd left it almost two hours before. Only then did he catch a good look at one corner near the back wall … and froze.

"What the hell …?"

A small table stood there, covered with a floor-length white tablecloth; two chairs were arranged to either side, and on top of it someone had laid two place settings, complete with intricately-folded napkins, gleaming silverware and sparkling crystal. An arrangement of red candles, silver-sprayed pine cones, a few sprigs of spruce and holly was set in the center; next to the table was a serving cart with an array of platters and chafing dishes, and a wine cooler held two already-opened bottles. The glow of light he'd seen came from three silver pyramid shapes of differing heights, made out of some kind of reed and threaded through with softly-glowing fairy lights.

It wasn't quite the traditional Christmas setup Wes had envisioned four weeks earlier, but close enough to bring a lump to his throat. Wide-eyed, he glanced over his shoulder at Eric, who shrugged with one shoulder.

"Surprise."

Wes closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it, but when he looked up again, the scene hadn't changed – he was still standing in their living room, and there really was a festive table set for two.

"Eric?" Wes asked huskily. "What did you – I mean, how – oh shit, why?"

Eric gave him a wry grin. "You think I hadn't noticed how you were looking at the store windows downtown? Or how you always drove by the big tree outside City Hall every chance you got? Hell, you even sighed over the sappy carols they piped through the mall! I would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to realize that you missed all this stuff."

Wes blushed slightly and glanced at his feet. "I tried not to."

"I know. I appreciate the effort. But just because I couldn't care less about the holidays, I realized eventually that I didn't have to spoil 'em completely for you. I decided I could live with some things … as long as they're kept to a reasonable minimum."

Feeling rather choked up with emotion, Wes nodded. "Of course." He suddenly had to fight the urge to break into a silly grin.

"How the hell did you manage this, anyway?"

Now it was Eric's turn to squirm and hide his blush. "I, uh, I went and asked Philips," he mumbled at last. "Told him I'd get you out of the house and gave him the spare key." He'd intended to explain more, but whatever words he was trying to find were swallowed by Wes' mouth claiming his lips in a fervent kiss.

"Thanks," Wes whispered once he could be sure his voice would obey him. It couldn't have been easy for Eric to go to anyone for help; he hated admitting that he couldn't, or didn't know how, to do something.

*To be honest, I wouldn't know that, either – and I'd've asked Philips as well!*

That Eric had done so at all spoke volumes to Wes, as much as the fact that Eric had gone against his own inclination and arranged this surprise for him.

"I love you," he murmured against Eric's lips, then kissed him again. Eric responded readily, opening his mouth to the soft stabs of Wes' tongue, but nevertheless gave his partner a wary look afterwards.

"You're not gonna go all mushy on me now, are you?"

Wes burst into laughter. That was Eric, all right – going out of his way to do something special, thoughtful and unexpected for someone he cared about, then trying to hide it by putting on the snark as soon as possible. He hugged his partner and hid his face against Eric's neck. "No. No, I'm not."

"In that case, you're welcome."

Feeling almost giddy with emotion, Wes tightened his arms around the leanly-muscled back. "Just let me say one thing?"

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide a small smile. Seemed that swallowing his pride this once was worth it, to judge by Wes' reaction. "Okay."

"This is just about the best gift you've ever given me," Wes said in a low voice, his eyes suspiciously bright. "That you did this for me, tonight … after what you told me earlier …" He discarded several expressions of gratitude and appreciation, for fear he'd embarrass Eric, and finally settled on the most simple and straightforward. "It means a lot. Thank you."

"You already said that. Now, can we eat? The food's getting cold," Eric muttered gruffly, but he made no attempt to move out of Wes' embrace. Thankfully, Wes could take a hint.

"Sure," he grinned, and released Eric after one final squeeze. "Since Philips did this, I know the food's going to be terrific – and you know what? Suddenly I'm starving!"

"By the look of this, we could feed half the duty shift." Eric sat down, shook out his napkin and was about to reach for the serving cart when it occurred to him that he had no idea which dish to start with. This wasn't a restaurant where waiters served each course in the correct order. He covered his momentary lapse by pouring wine instead, then raised an eyebrow at Wes who meanwhile had lit the candles in the centerpiece. "Okay, rich boy – you're the expert. What do we have first?"

Chuckling, Wes lifted the cover from a plate resting on a layer of crushed ice. "Cold starters, of course." He whistled when he saw what was underneath. "Wow. Oysters and caviar. I'm impressed." Deftly, he served first Eric, then himself.

Eric eyed the open shells on his plate with blatant skepticism. "Is that … raw?"

Wes nodded and reached for a lemon quarter. "Uh huh." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Come on, you eat sushi. How's that different?"

"Sushi doesn't look like it's still half alive."

"Trust me, the oyster won't bite you. You eat it like this." He squeezed a few drops of lemon juice into the shell, loosened the oyster with a tiny two-pronged fork, then sucked the whole thing directly into his mouth. Gingerly, Eric copied him, chewed, swallowed and immediately reached for his wine glass.

"Ugh. People pay money for that?"

"Yeah – and you don't want to know how much," Wes grinned, ate his second oyster, then had a sip of wine as well before he started buttering the tiny cracker that went with the caviar. Grimacing, Eric followed suit.

The caviar was only marginally better; Eric found he didn't care much for the taste nor the texture. "I can't believe this stuff is considered a delicacy."

"To be honest, I don't care much for it, either," Wes admitted with a smile. "But I'm sure Philips meant well."

"Well, I did ask him for gourmet food," Eric said and shrugged. "Guess I should've been more specific. At least he left out snails."

"I like escargots; the garlic butter is terrific. But they have to come fresh from the oven. Good ol' Philips probably just wanted to make sure our evening would be really special," Wes mused, his expression turning supremely innocent. "After all, he's used to always looking out for me." Eric gave him a questioning glance over the rim of his glass. "Didn't you know? Raw oysters are supposed to be a rather potent aphrodisiac."

Eric nearly choked on his mouthful of wine.

"Don't tell me your father's butler is interested in our sex life!"

"Noooo idea," Wes snickered, then sobered at Eric's rather horrified look. "Don't worry. Philips likes you too much to even speculate."

"He … what? How'd you get that?" They both exchanged their plates for two small bowls of creamy soup.

"Haven't you noticed? He's calling you 'Master Eric' now," Wes said, picking up his spoon. "He wouldn't do that if he didn't approve of you – of us, really."

"Oh." Feeling vaguely embarrassed yet pleased, Eric ducked his head before starting on his second course.

The rest of their dinner was as exquisite as the starters. Dessert was left for another time; after four courses and a side salad, both men didn't think they could do justice to the frothy chocolate mousse over fresh honeyed fruit. Wes decided not to tell Eric that both chocolate and honey purportedly were aphrodisiacs as well.

*Nice try, Philips, but it's not as if we'd need extra help!*

Instead, they blew out the candles and took their coffee to the couch, relaxing in the mellow atmosphere created by subdued lighting and a perfect meal. At last, Wes put his empty cup down on the low table and turned towards Eric.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Eric nodded, even though he got an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. If Wes intended to dig up more details about the crappy holidays he used to have … he needn't have worried.

"Why did you take me up to the vista point?" he asked curiously. "It's a gorgeous spot, especially at twilight, but … why now? Why tonight?"

Eric tensed. He really should've known Wes would pick up on that. "It's kinda stupid," he hedged.

"Not when it means something to you," Wes contradicted him softly. "And I think it does. Please?"

There was no way he could resist the expression in the blue eyes, and Eric sighed in resignation. "If you must know … it's a habit I picked up the year I moved back to Silver Hills. I used to drive around after I was done with my shift, to familiarize myself with the city, the surroundings … anyway, one night on my way back I needed to make a pit stop, and that seemed as good a place as any." He leaned back against the couch, a faraway look entering his eyes. "As you said, it's a great view just after nightfall; I stayed for a few minutes taking it all in. The city, the harbor, the houses … all the things I'd sworn to protect when I joined the Guardians. Somehow, seeing it from up there made it more real."

"I can see how," Wes nodded, having felt something similar earlier. "But how did it become a habit?"

Eric shrugged a little sheepishly. "That first night? I promised myself that someday, I'd be more than just a nameless, invisible drone, running around in a uniform, protecting people who didn't know me. For once, I wanted to be seen, wanted to stand out of the crowd. Two days later, I found the Quantum morpher, and you know the rest." He swallowed and glanced sideways at his lover, but Wes' expression was neutral.

"After that, I started going there when I needed to think, or just to remind me of my goals and plans." He coughed uncomfortably. "Told you it was stupid."

"It's not," Wes corrected him with a smile. "You've kept your promise, and then some – everybody in Silver Hills knows and respects you by now. And you did it all by yourself, too."

"Well … you helped some," Eric murmured, pleased enough by the honest admiration he could hear in Wes' voice to give him his due.

"If I did, it was for a very good reason," Wes replied, leaned over and draped an arm around Eric's shoulder. "Which has nothing to do with your or my past, what you told me up there or how we celebrate the holidays – or not. Wanna know what does?" He waited until the dark eyes met his. "I love you," he whispered. "That's the only thing that matters."

Eric felt a knot of tension he hadn't even been aware of unravel and smiled. "Couldn't agree more." He reached up to draw Wes' lips towards his own. "Merry Christmas."


***


The kiss was slow and gentle, starting with only slight pressure until Eric's eyes drifted shut and he opened his mouth to let the moist tongue slip inside. He responded just as slowly, preferring for once to let the excitement build gradually. Eric wrapped one arm around Wes' back, intending to draw him even closer, but to his surprise Wes resisted, ending their kiss instead. His lips brushed upwards, feathering across the closed lids in a silent 'look-at-me' plea.

Smiling, Eric obeyed, the beginnings of arousal showing in the dark depths.

"Not bad for starters," he murmured. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because I want you to relax and let me take care of you," Wes said huskily.

He slowly ran the pad of his thumb across Eric's lower lip, who captured it between his teeth and bit playfully, then soothed the small sting with his tongue.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Wes chided, cupping Eric's cheek instead. "I want to do everything."

The promise in Wes' voice and eyes was impossible to resist.

"Everything?" Eric's gut tightened with anticipation.

"Uh huh," Wes nodded, giving him a lingering kiss that spoke of endless possibilities … and was way too brief for Eric's liking. "You won't regret it."

"Promises, promises," Eric quipped, then deliberately leaned back against the couch. "Okay, do your thing."

"Smartass," Wes muttered, chuckling a little. "Good thing I love you for more than your sense of romance." He kissed him again, more deeply this time, still keeping a slow, languid pace. Eric found it harder than expected not to just take over; he wasn't passive by nature, and now that they'd started what he hoped would be a prolonged session of lovemaking he was getting impatient to get to the 'good' bits. However, Wes wasn't cooperating.

"Easy," Wes whispered. "There's no need to hurry."

"Says you," Eric grumbled. He was getting aroused, tried to pull Wes more firmly against him, only to encounter unexpected resistance. "Wes …!"

"Eric …!" Copying his tone perfectly, Wes eyes were dancing as he threaded his fingers into Eric's hair. "Let's try it my way for now, please? I've wanted to do this for quite a while …"

Sighing, Eric nodded and let his arms fall to his sides again. "Oh, what the hell."

"Gee, enthusiastic much?" Wes grinned, his own pulse speeding up at the tacit compliance. It was rare that Eric gave him such free rein to indulge one of his fantasies. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll like what I have in mind. Now, where was I?"

"Right about here, I guess," Eric muttered and tilted his head so that their lips almost brushed against each other and their breaths mingled.

"Oh yeah …" They kissed again.

Eric's breathing grew heavier of its own accord as Wes took his sweet time. Each sweep and curl of the moist tongue inside his mouth sent an arrow of desire right into Eric's groin. It wasn't their first time to be tender with each other, but usually it was in the aftermath of sex, not as part of their foreplay.

*Damn. How'd he know what that would do to me?* he thought hazily, then moaned even as he turned his head to offer better access to his neck.

Wes had been waiting for just such a sign, and smiled to himself. *Now I have you just where I want you to be …* He let his lips taste Eric's skin as he nibbled his way down towards the hollow at the base of his throat,.

"Mmm," he hummed against the faint pulse, and Eric's breath hitched – then again when the first two buttons of his shirt were opened deftly and knowing fingertips brushed across his collarbone. Wes' touch was feather-light, almost teasing, but still managed to leave a trail of fire in its wake. Eric could feel his heartbeat accelerate.

"You gonna take all night?" he asked, his voice slightly breathless.

"If I have to," Wes replied, continuing to nosh at every inch of tanned skin that was revealed as he opened button after button. "Mm, nice!" Using only his fingertips and nails, he outlined the contours of Eric's pecs, circling the small brown nipples until they hardened and peaked. He then bent forward, captured one of his nipples between his teeth, the other between his thumb and middle finger, then teased the small peaks with his tongue and index finger. A jolt of pure lust shot through Eric at the double stimulation.

"Oh shit," he gasped, a shudder wracking his body. "Do that again!"

To his dismay, Wes stopped instead. "Don't tell me what to do," he admonished softly. "This is my show, remember?"

Eric groaned again, in frustration this time, but did his best to lie back and relax. He was rewarded with the return of Wes' mouth and hand to his chest. He paid particular attention to Eric's navel – another area that proved to be much more sensitive than Eric had imagined, feeling his senses beginning to swim.

*Damn. Why the hell have we never done this before?*

The simple answer was, they'd usually been so caught up in lust and desire that despite years of being lovers, they'd almost never taken the time to truly seduce each other, like Wes was doing now. And if they did, it soon progressed to more frenzied activities … Also, until recently they had stolen moments whenever they could, occasional nights or weekends not withstanding, and urgency had often superseded everything else. More complex was the realization that Eric had never had a partner whom he wanted to seduce, that he generally preferred a more direct approach … and that Wes didn't often take command of their lovemaking. It wasn't a question of dominance or submission, rather that they might unwittingly have fallen into a pattern that served them well yet didn't leave much room for experimentation.

Eric was drawn out of his reverie by the soft 'clink' of metal on leather as Wes undid his belt buckle and the back of his hand brushed his distended cock. Eric gasped and held his breath, but Wes was still taking his sweet time, outlining the swollen ridge of flesh through Eric's clothes. Eric instinctively bucked his hips towards the warmth hovering over his groin, hissed with pleasure as Wes placed his palm on his erection … and was gently pressed down onto the couch once more.

"Easy, love. No need to rush, is there?"

Eric swallowed a couple of times to get his vocal chords to cooperate, his throat was so dry. He wanted to feel flesh on flesh, to thrust into a firm hand or willing mouth, wanted it badly – until it dawned on him that it might be a while yet until he got his wish. So far, Wes had set an excruciatingly slow pace; there was a very good chance that he'd be taking as much time, if not longer, to get down to business.

The prospect was both frustrating and terribly exciting.

"Are you trying to drive me mad?" Eric grumbled, not really surprised when a spark lit the blue eyes.

"I sure hope so." Wes grinned and slipped one fingertip inside the waistband of Eric's briefs, gliding it across his stomach from one hip to the other. Eric tensed with anticipation when it passed the swollen head of his cock, stifling a moan when the longed-for touch was delayed yet again.

"You're enjoying this way too much," he accused his lover, breathing heavily.

"Damn right I do," Wes replied, his lips curving in a positively wicked smile. "Aren't you?"

To deny it would be the biggest lie Eric ever told, but to admit it would mean he'd be giving Wes total control over what happened next … which suddenly seemed like a both terrifying and terrific idea.

"Hell, yeah."

"Then you'll enjoy even more what I'm going to do next," Wes promised huskily, recognizing the admission for what it was – surrender. He kissed Eric again, deeply and leisurely, then slid off the couch. With sure hands, he peeled down the dark pants, helping Eric to lift his hips so he could remove the tight briefs as well. Soon, both garments were puddled around Eric's ankles, and Wes knelt between the spread knees, stroking slowly up the insides of Eric's thighs.

The sensation raised goosebumps on Eric's skin. His cock was already painfully hard and lay on his belly, throbbing with need. He was yea-close to demanding Wes make him come, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it might come out as begging, and he wasn't that desperate.

Yet.

Thankfully, Wes seemed to think that he'd teased him enough, because he reached out and cupped the heavy, dark-furred balls in one hand. Rolling them gently in his fingers, he began to lavish attention on the satiny skin of Eric's erection. He stroked from base to tip and back again, circling the engorged shaft until his lover moaned and clenched his fists into the fabric of the couch.

"Fuck, yeah!" It took all of Eric's willpower not to thrust upwards. Wes firmed his hold, pumping slowly until the first few drops of pre-come seeped out, then bent forward at last and kissed the swollen head, the contrast between his hot mouth and cool breath exciting Eric all the more. Dark eyes slit with arousal, he raised his head enough so he could watch.

Blue eyes met Eric's, full of fire. He tensed in anticipation as Wes opened his mouth at last and flicked his tongue, swirling it around his cock for the first time. Eric could feel himself break out in a light sheen of sweat, his chest heaving rapidly, and could no longer suppress a blissful groan when Wes drew him excruciatingly slowly into his mouth and started to suck.

Eric's world narrowed down to the hot wetness wrapped around his cock; while some part of him craved more and wanted to take over, another part told him to do just what Wes had asked him to do – namely, sit back and simply feel.

Pure sensation won.

Eric's head was swimming; unconsciously, he lifted his hands and threaded them through Wes' hair, caressing the soft strands in sync with the continually gentle sucking and massaging of his balls. At last, Wes eased off until he held only the spongy head between his lips. With his tongue, he sought out the V-shaped spot on the ridge and flicked his tongue rapidly against that most sensitive area.

The stimulation sent Eric over the edge at last and he came with a strangled cry, his whole body arching off the couch as he spurted his seed into Wes' willing mouth.


***


It took a while for Eric to come down from the dizzy heights of his orgasm, especially since Wes continued to hold his softening cock in his mouth until he went completely limp.

"That was … whoa," Eric murmured huskily, sliding his fingers from the blond hair to Wes' cheek. Wes chuckled, the sound a curious mixture of triumph and tenderness.

"Then I didn't promise too much?"

"Hell, no."

"Good." Somewhat to Eric's surprise, Wes let go of him completely and got to his feet. With a slow smile he started to pull his turtleneck sweater over his head, revealing his smooth, sculpted chest, then reached for his belt. An anticipatory shiver raced along Eric's synapses, making him catch his breath. Their eyes held as Eric kicked off his pants and briefs, watching avidly until his field of vision was almost completely filled by the engorged cock jutting from Wes' groin. Wordlessly, Eric gave up trying to get out of his shirtsleeves, moved as far back on the couch as he could and opened his arms to his lover.

With a small groan, Wes all but fell on top of him. The skin-on-skin contact was intoxicating, and both men wrapped their arms around each other, holding on for dear life.

Soon, though, Wes began to squirm and rub himself against Eric, who laughed deep in his throat even as he lifted his knees to make Wes more comfortable.

"Knew you wouldn't be able to hold out much longer," he said smugly.

"Wiseass," Wes retorted, thrusting harder now that he had the room. He briefly lifted his head and shook hair out of eyes that were bright with laughter and lust. "Help me?"

"Sure." Shifting a little, Eric managed to work one hand between their bodies and closed it around the smooth column of flesh. The other he slid under Wes' shoulder and around the muscular back, holding him firmly in position on top of him. "Go for it," he whispered, giving Wes' cock a slight squeeze.

"Yesssssssssss … " Wes shuddered once, then abandoned himself to the fire in his loins. His hips moved faster; soon he was gasping for breath, and Eric's knowing fingers did the rest. Within minutes, he could feel his balls tighten, and he erupted between their tightly-pressed bodies, his cry of release muffled by Eric's fierce kiss.

It took Wes longer to recover from his climax than Eric, but he didn't mind; he was feeling too damn good to care that they were all but glued together by sweat and his come. Nor did Eric care that Wes had his face buried in the crook of his neck, his breath cool and moist against his skin. He gently ran his hand down Wes spine, from the short hair to the swell of his ass.

"Mmm." Wes hummed contentedly; he loved the way Eric was caressing him, and the teasing foray of a finger between his buttcheeks caused a faint flutter of renewed interest in his gut. However … "Gimme some more time, willya?" he muttered, still somewhat dazed. "I'm not the Energizer Bunny."

"Pity," Eric grinned, but stopped tickling the hairy cleft. No matter how tempting it was to goad Wes with hints of a thorough fuck, he was right – they both needed some more time to regain their strength. "Later, then?"

Wes flexed his shoulders and turned his head sideways so he could see his partner's expression. "Of course," he smiled, giving him a smoldering look. "On one condition, though."

"What condition?" Eric asked a little warily. Sometimes, Wes had ideas he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

"We get off the couch and make use of our nice, comfy, king-size new mattress."

Dark eyes lit up even as Eric pushed Wes off him, drew them both to their feet and towards the bedroom. "Now that's what I call a plan!"


***


Two hours later, Eric settled against the headboard while Wes poured wine for both, then waited until Wes had found the perfect position by his side – a leg tucked between his, one arm across his waist and the blond head on his shoulder. For a while, they rested in this loose embrace, basking in the afterglow of the passionate sixty-nine they had shared only a short while ago. They had left the bedroom door open after sharing a shower, and from across the hallway they could just see the soft glow of the fairy lights in the decorations Philips had set up near the dining table. If one squinted a little bit, the triangular shape was very close to a traditional tree and – in Wes' decidedly biased opinion – just perfect for Christmas Eve.

"You know, I never was a fan of minimalism, but I think I could get used to this," he mused. "It is kinda Christmassy, but not blatantly so."

"I guess," Eric agreed, idly sipping his wine. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he was watching Wes. Sure enough, the question he'd half expected wasn't long in coming, and he suppressed a smile. Sometimes, Wes was just too predictable.

"Eric … you think we can have something like this again next year? Those pyramid thingies are more like a sculpture than a tree, it wouldn't be as sentimental …"

"You think?" he said neutrally.

"Well, yeah … just as a compromise. We don't have to, though," Wes hastened to add. "It was a terrific surprise, all of it, but I won't mind if you'd really rather not."

Eric slanted a glance at his lover. Wes was trying so hard to convince him – *and himself too, I guess!* – that he meant every word, that he really had given up wanting at least some form of holiday decorations in their home, it was almost pathetic. He would've made a sarcastic remark if it weren't for his certainty that Wes was doing so for one reason only – to humor him. Eric couldn't bring himself to mock that.

He also couldn't bring himself to just give in, though. Not after his adamant refusal in the beginning, or what he'd told Wes about his childhood up on the mountain. And yet, after the way Wes had thanked him for bending just a little bit, how could he not?

*Maybe it's time I buried the ghosts of my past. After all, my present and my future are right here … with Wes.*

"I'll think about it," he said at last, carefully non-committal. As he'd hoped, Wes was content.

"That's okay," Wes replied, his lips curving in a smile. "Thanks."

"You already-"

"-said that a couple of times, I know. But that was for arranging dinner; this was for not saying 'no' to a repeat."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," Eric warned, only to be silenced by a finger against his lips.

"I'm aware of that. It's enough that you're willing to even consider it."

"A year is a long time; I can still change my mind."

Wes surprised Eric by laughing softly. He raised himself on one elbow, pried the wine glass from his hand and put it on the nightstand. Then he leaned forward, capturing him between his arms and the headboard. The blue eyes sparkled more brightly than any candle or decoration Eric had seen all season.

"True," Wes murmured, his mouth almost, but not quite brushing against Eric's. "Just as long as you remember I can also use that year to persuade you."

"Oh? And do you have a specific method in mind?" Eric asked silkily, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip in blatant invitation. Wes didn't hesitate for a second to accept it.

"Yes, but I'm not going to tell you," he replied between tiny, nibbling kisses. "After all, I wouldn't want to spoil your surprise!"


The End.


(Famous last words: Remember I mentioned I have those six or so pages of 'leftovers' from the first or second version? I might be persuaded to eventually work them into a third and final chapter. It all depends on whether I can make it fit … and whether you guys want to see it. *evil grin* So … tell me? Please?)