Husband for the Holidays

Thank you to everyone who’s taken the time to read and review, they’re as good as early Christmas presents for me :P . Special thanks to the people who pointed out my little mistakes, I hope I have them fixed. Please enjoy.

Holiday Trade
The Agreement

After the ceremony, they went out for dinner with Stephen with to celebrate.

La Monda was a private Italian restaurant that Preston had certainly never stepped foot in. The menu was in Italian and had no prices listed next to the items. Definitely a good case for the adage, ‘If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it’. Carter could afford it.

Even though Preston couldn’t fathom how much the meal would cost, he did know how much the 1922 bottle of Spinelli that showed up at the table cost. And it was in the high three digits.

The sommelier presented it with a white cloth and gloves, all the while looking at Carter with more than a hint of desire. “On the house, for one of our best customers. I procured this especially.”

“Thank you, Nicolo.” Carter shared an intimate smile with the man. “You have quite an eye.”

Preston’s gaze shifted between them. The sommelier, Nicolo, was sort of handsome, if a little thin. Tanned skin, brown eyes and straight brown hair. He looked to be a little older then Carter, closer to 40. Preston watched as Nicolo poured a little splash of the wine into Carter’s glass and then the man watched Carter for his reaction to the tasting. The sommelier stood a little too close, his crotch almost brushing against the back of Carter’s shoulder. Carter sipped thoughtfully and then after a moment gave his approval to the vintage, bestowing another of those charming smirks on Nicolo. Nicolo looked thrilled with the approval.

Preston wondered if perhaps they had a past together – then he had to remind himself that he had no right or reason to feel jealous. After all, despite the fact they had gotten married only hours ago, there really was no commitment between them.

Preston looked away; he found his fingers nervously twisting the gold band on his finger. He let go of it quickly and busied himself with unfolding his napkin on his lap, saying a little prayer that he wouldn’t slop anything on his new suit.

Nicolo finished pouring and left the table. Preston could have sworn Carter’s eyes trailed after him, watching him walk away. But his attention quickly came back to the table. He helped Preston order from the menu and the food was incredible.

But for some reason, Preston found the wine a little too sour.

XoX XXX XoX

After dinner, the three men walked back to Carter’s car where the driver sat waiting.

Carter opened the door for Preston, “I have to go to the club for a few hours, would you like me to drop you back at the condo first?”

Before Preston could answer, Stephen spoke for him, “Of course not. Preston, you’ll come too, won’t you? Have a few drinks to celebrate?”

“I don’t know,” Preston wavered, “It’s been a long day.”

“Come on with us,” Stephen pressed, “You only get married once…for the first time.”

Under Stephen’s expectant stare, Preston relented, “Sure…I’ll go for a few hours.”

Carter gave Stephen a suspicious look and then turned to Preston, “You don’t have to, you know.”

Preston shook his head, “No really, it’s cool. I haven’t worked in a couple of days, I miss the place.”

“Fine, come.” Carter continued, “But you’re not working.”

Preston smirked and slid into the car, “Whatever you say, Boss.”

When they pulled up behind the club, Preston began to rethink his decision. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea. As they walked towards the building, he spoke to Carter in a hushed voice. “Are we going to tell anyone about the…you know, or just keep it quiet?”

Carter held the door from him and as he walked in, there was a flurry of confetti and cheering. Hung over the main stage there was a huge, black and white CONGRATULATIONS sign.

Carter nearly ran into Preston’s back when he stopped abruptly.

“If by ‘you know’ you meant the wedding,” Carter spoke wryly against his ear, his breath warm and sending tingles down Preston’s neck, “I’m guessing it’s too late to keep it quiet.”

“Sorry,” Stephen brushed past them into the club with grin that was anything but apologetic, “I couldn’t help myself.”

The staff swarmed around them offering congratulations, patrons seemed just as interested, clapping and swiveling in their chairs to get a better look at the commotion.

Mishka Novikov, a pixie like dancer with red booty shorts and a reindeer headband, stepped forward, hands behind his back. “We got you guys a little something.” He pulled out a dark suit coat with his right hand. Embroidered on the back in cursive writing was the word ‘GROOM’.

Stephen took it from the dancer and teasingly convinced Carter to put it on.

Preston knew what was coming from the looks his co-workers were giving him. They were barely holding back their laughter.

Mishka beamed and continued in his lilting Russian accent, “And for you, Preston…” From the other hand he pulled out a small white T-shirt. A pink ‘BRIDE’ was emblazoned on the chest.

Preston rolled his eyes and everyone hooted and hollered, watching him expectantly. Someone (Preston wasn’t sure it wasn’t Stephen) started a chant of ‘put it on, put it on’. He made a mental note to screw up St. Novell’s drink order the next time.

The chanting continued. Oh, what the hell, he was plenty secure in his own masculinity. There was no reason to ruin their fun.

He pulled off his coat and then his jacket. Another server took them and folded them behind the bar. To the sound of wolf-whistles, Preston unbuttoned his shirt and took it off too, standing bare-chested for a moment while he took the T-shirt from Mishka. He pulled it over his head.

It was obviously, deliberately, too small; the material straining over his wide shoulders and clinging to his chest, leaving several inches of muscled stomach showing. Despite that, it wasn’t even close to the most revealing thing he had even worn in the club. With a cocky smile he threw his hands in the air and did a slow turn, showing off. The cheers reached a cacophony.

“Alright, alright,” addressing the mob, Carter smiled and held up his hand, resting his other hand on Preston’s back. “Thank you for your well-wishes, but now it’s time to get back to work. Go on, before I fire you all.”

Amidst laughter, the crowd dissolved, everyone going back to their duties.

XoX XXX XoX

With a promise to catch up to him later, Carter headed in the direction of the offices, leaving Preston by the bar.

Cora walked up to him, hips swaying side to side, not wobbling at all on her six-inch heels. Her outfit tonight was one of her usuals: a skin-tight, red and blank striped halter top with a flared, black miniskirt. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.”

Preston couldn’t help but laugh.

“Where do you get off gettin’ hitched without telling Cora?” she tutted, leaning in and kissing his cheek, taking a moment after to wipe the lipstick off his cheek with her thumb.

“I hadn’t told anyone.” Preston defended. “I don’t know how you guys all found out.”

“Mr. St. Novell told some of the boys.”

Stephen, of course. The man probably thought it was hilarious.

“And the shirt? The confetti?” Preston questioned, plucking at the tight material.

“That’s all Miska. He’s as energetic as a puppy and half as smart.”

Preston’s lips quirked.

Cora’s fake lashes fanned over her high cheek bones. “Listen, Sugar, my shift doesn’t start for half an hour. How’s about I buy you a drink and we sit down somewhere and you tell me how the heck you hooked the big boss?”

“You don’t have to buy –”

“Hush up, it’s your wedding day, you get a drink. Besides, you won’t believe the tips I pulled last night. Had a group of lawyers celebrating a big merger. They were feeling mighty generous, let me tell you.”

Smiling, Preston relented, “Alright. Sounds good.”

“I’ll be back in two shakes of a tail, Sugar.”

Cora walked to the other end of the bar, leaning over it to make her order, the short hem of her tulle skirt rode up, exposing the bottom curves of her ass cheeks. At the front of the club, Preston saw Timothy’s eyes dart from the door for a moment to enjoy the sight.

Preston smirked a little and turned back to the dance floor while he waited,. He saw Miska practically skip across the floor towards him, bubbly smile in place. “You like your present, ya?”

Preston’s smile grew. It was impossible not to like the pint-sized dancer. Though at 21 he was only a few years younger than Preston, he often seemed a lot more immature. Except when he was dancing – then he was all man and certainly knew how to turn the heat up. One minute he would be dancing and grinding the pole like the pro and next he’d be backstage playing practical jokes and bouncing off the walls.

“Yes. I like it. Thank you, Miska.”

Miska beamed and patted the material molded to Preston’s pecs. “I get you a drink, ya? To toast your marriage.”

Preston started to decline, after all, Cora was already getting him something, but what the hell? Stephen was right; you only get married once – for the first time.

XoX XXX XoX

Later in the night, Carter found Preston all alone in the closed VIP section. The younger man was leaning up against the railing, looking down on the dancers below.

“So, this is where you disappeared to.”

Preston turned towards him, waving his hand around at the small army of empty glasses on the table nearby. “It’s fucking amazing how many people will buy you drinks when they find out you got married.”

“Is that right?”

“It’s pretty fucking weird; I don’t think any of the guys realized the marriage is fake.”

Carter looked over at him, brow arched, assessing. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk.” Preston parroted nonsensically, and then he started giggling.

The corner of Carter’s lips twitched. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”

“No, ‘cause you’ve only seen me at work. Until you proposed.” His giggles took over again.

“I suppose you have a point.”

“And now we’re married! Holy shit!”

“That is also true,” Carter responded levelly, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Speaking of which, this is our wedding night, technically…” Preston’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips. He looked at Carter. There was nothing innocent about the look, all hungry eyes and half lowered lashed.

Carter’s laughter dried up. He inspected Preston more closely, attempting to figure out exactly how drunk he was. His eyes were glossy, complexion flushed. His words had been pretty slurred, and as he moved towards Carter he staggered slightly, muscles too loose. When the blond swayed forward, lips parting and Carter found himself dodging back. “Preston…”

Reaction time slowed by the drinks, it took Preston a moment to follow Carter’s movement, “Boss…”

“No. Preston, just no.”

“Why not? You should get something out of this deal.” The younger man reached up, winding his arms around Carter’s neck. “I have it under excellent authority I am an awesome fuck.”

“No.” Gently but firmly, Carter tried to detangle him. It wasn’t so easy. Preston was doing his best impression of a drunken octopus, hands going everywhere.

Preston made a sound behind a moan and a whine, “Come on, that’s your problem? It’s just a fuck. On our wedding night.”

“No.” It was one thing to seduce and fuck Preston. That was something he fully intended to do – and soon. Hell, that was why he had suggested this sham of a marriage in the first place. But it was another thing entirely to take advantage of him while he was almost falling down drunk. “We’re not having sex.”

“Just blow jobs then. That works, too.” The octopus-hands found the fly of Carter’s pants and started tugging.

Carter covered Preston’s hands with his own. He grit his teeth, unable to believe what he was about to do. His dick also couldn’t believe it and gave an uncomfortable pulse as if to say, ‘think about what you’re about to do, idiot’. Reluctantly, he pulled Preston’s hands away. “No, Preston. Stop it.”

Glassy blue eyes looked up at him, confused, “You don’t want me? I jus’ want to thank you, Carter. I jus’…I bet you would if I was Nicky.”

“Nicky?”

“Nicky. Nicky. Your hot wine guy. Nicky McWinerson.” Preston’s flung his hand around in the air, nearly hitting himself in the cheek.

Carter frowned, trying to follow, “Nicolo? The sommelier at La Monda? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Bet you wished you had married him instead.”

“You are seriously wasted. I think it’s time to head home.” Carter shrugged his ‘GROOM’ jacked off and started to wrestle Preston into it.

“Does this mean you don’t think I’m the bride?” Preston slurred, clinging to Carter for balance as the room spun.

“I think it’s more than obvious you’re all man – otherwise, I wouldn’t be having trouble turning down your offer of a wedding night. No, you’re definitely husband material.”

“Mmm,” Preston leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of the jacket and the stability of his chest. “I like the sound of that – husband. Husband.”

The disconcerting thing was that Carter liked the sound of it, as well. Maybe a little too much.

XoX XXX XoX

Preston woke up groggy, his mouth felt packed with cotton. With a groan, he rolled over. The sheets felt wonderfully cool and smooth against his face. Which was the first clue he wasn’t in his own room with his cheap linen sheets. Also, there was the fact he was sprawled out and his legs weren’t hanging off the bed.

He cracked his eyes open. The room was only dimly lit, but clearly it was later in the day because the sun was trying to get around the blinds.

Carter’s blinds. Carter’s bed. He brought his hand up and looked at it. Carter’s ring, too, was still there.

Uugh, it wasn’t like him to drink like that. But once he had started last night, he just hadn’t stopped. And now he was paying for it.

Slowly, he sat up in bed. He was still wearing the designer pants Carter had gotten for him for the wedding and the tacky, tight ‘BRIDE’ T-shirt. He pulled that off and let it land in a heap on the floor. Then he stood up and shucked the pants off as well, folding them more neatly. They’d have to go to the dry cleaner’s, not into the laundry. He navigated around the bedroom in just his boxers, going into the en suite to piss. A house coat was hanging on the back of the en suite bathroom door and after washing his hands and splashing some water on his stubbled jaw, he pulled the house coat on.

Feeling a little more human, Preston wandered out into the apartment. In the kitchen, he poured himself some orange juice and shoved a mug under the spout of the coffee maker.

“I was wondering when you’d drag yourself out of bed, Sleeping Beauty.” Carter appeared in the opening between the kitchen and the living room.

Preston used a hand to pull together the flaps of the housecoat, suddenly feeling rather exposed. “Morning, Boss. You don’t look any worse for wear from last night.”

“I didn’t get totally shitfaced.” He gave Preston a telling look.

Wincing, Preston leaned back against the counter and nursed his black coffee. “Should I be apologizing?”

“For what?” Carter questioned mockingly. “For drinking too much? For trying to crawl on the stage when I was trying to take you out of the club? For puking in the car on the way home?” He deliberately didn’t mention Preston’s clumsy attempts to seduce him. Frankly, he had been up all night trying to forget it. His right hand hadn’t seen so much action since he was 14 and he had glimpsed Franco Desalle, then the hottest senior in his high school, naked in the gym showers.

Preston looked completely chagrinned. “Did I really do that? I’m so sorry, Boss. I don’t drink like that often. I swear. Just with everything going on…”

“It’s okay, McCall. Really. For the most part you were hilarious. And the car needed to be detailed soon anyways.”

“Still. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

Preston shook his head ruefully.

“I’m glad you’re up though.” Carter changed the subject, “I got a call from Child Services this morning.”

“Oh, yeah?” Preston tried not to get his hopes up.

“Yes. They’ve had a spot open up to do the home inspection and interviews. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Preston’s jaw fell a little. “That soon?”

“We must have lucked out. Finish your coffee, grab a shower, I’ll take you out for lunch and we’ll pick up the things the condo needs to make it kid-friendly.”

“On it, Boss.”

As Carter disappeared back down the hall, Preston looked around. It was blatantly obvious the condo had never see a person younger than 20 pass through its doors. It was more like a showroom than a home. Shit. They had a ton of work to do today.

XoX XXX XoX

The next morning, Preston waited nervously in the building foyer for the social worker to show up. He must have been doing a poor job of hiding his anxiety because the doorman kept giving him reassuring glances.

Finally, at 10 o’clock on the dot, the woman showed up to see him. Preston immediately realized it wasn’t the same woman he had talked to before in the hospital. This woman was a little older, wearing a simple wool coat, navy dress, and a sensible heel. “Mr. McCall.” She held her hand out and gave his a brisk shake. “My name is Greta Cook from Family and Child Services. I’ll be doing your homestudy today.”

“Right. Um, thank you for coming so quickly.”

“I don’t often do the homestudies any longer, I’m a supervisor now, but your file inexplicably came across my desk yesterday.” She looked at Preston pointedly and then continued, “I’d like to start by taking a tour of the condo.”

Preston swallowed, recognizing his hard-nosed woman would be the one to decide if he could take care of his nephews…or not. “Right this way.”

XoX XXX XoX

When they stepped out of the elevator, Carter came out of his office to greet them. Preston almost didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t wearing a suit. He was wearing a pair of designer jeans and a black wool pullover. Preston didn’t think he’d ever seen Carter out of a suit before.

With a little awkwardness, Preston made the introduction. “Ah, Ms. Cook. This is…my husband, Carter Jameson.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Carter shook her hand, placing his other hand on the small of Preston’s back. “Welcome to our home.”

As Carter took charge of the meeting, Preston began to relax. If there was one thing Carter knew it was how to handle people, manipulate situations, and get what he wanted out a deal.

Yesterday, they had made changes all over the condo. Outlets were covered, wires hidden, latches put on the lower cupboards so they couldn’t be pulled open accidently, baby proof handles fitted on the balcony, gym, and office doors.

As Carter showed the case worker through the apartment, Preston hovered close behind. He held his breath as she looked through the first guest room. That was the room he’d chosen for his bedroom and it was where he had slept last night. His things were in Carter’s room though, just in case having personal effects in the guestroom raised any red flags during the inspection.

She didn’t seem to notice anything out of place and they moved on.

“And this will be the boys’ room.”

Carter opened the door to the second guest bedroom and stepped aside. The nursery was the biggest change in the apartment. There were several things Preston had packed up from his brother’s house, but Carter had insisted on buying a lot of new things, too. A fancy changing table. An oversized rocking chair. An antique looking bookcase filled with colourful books. A state of the art monitoring system.

Ms. Cook walked through the room. She took her time, touching things and trying things out. Finally, she turned back to the men, “Well, everything seems to be in order. Is there some place we can sit and talk? I’d like to move onto the interview portion of the assessment.”

“Of course. The dining room, then.”

The interview lasted over an hour. The only rocky part was her questions about their jobs.

“It’s my understanding you own a strip club, Mr. Jameson.”

“A private gentlemen’s club,” Carter corrected without batting an eye.

“I see.”

“And Mr. McCall, you work there as well?”

“Ah, yes.” Preston felt his ears heat up. “As a serve. Not as a dancer…”

“Regardless,” Carter cut in. “Preston will be take time off to help his nephews settle in, and in January, when his university classed start up again, we’ll readdress the situation and accommodate both his classes and the babies in his schedule.”

Preston blinked. They hadn’t discussed that, but really, what Carter said seemed like the ideal situation.

Carter continued, “As for supporting the babies, even without Preston working that won’t be a problem. As I’m sure you’ll agree when you see my income statements.”

“I see,” Ms. Cook demurred. Preston was beginning to hate those two words.

When all her questions were answered to her satisfaction, Ms. Cook closed up her notebook. “I think I have all the information I need for now. A background check will have to be run, if that checks out, I don’t think you’ll have any problem bringing the babies home tomorrow or the day after.”

Preston almost sagged with relief. “That soon?”

“Yes. There will be a probationary period, with additional homechecks, but all the papers are in order. Your brother’s will was clear. You are the late-parents’ choice for legal guardian, and clearly you have shown you have the space and means with which to care for them. Besides that, Judge Appleman has agreed to fast track this case.”

“Well, isn’t that nice of him.” Carter drawled, showing Ms. Cook to the door.

Ms. Cook and Carter shared a look and then Ms. Cook inclined her head, “Usually nice of him. Good day, gentleman.”

When the elevator closed behind her, Preston turned on Carter. “Am I missing something, do you know Judge Appleman?”

“Mm.” Carter made a sound of agreement and then continued, “You know him, too.”

Preston just looked puzzled.

Carter swung an arm over his shoulders and led him back towards the living room. “You know that man with the brown leather mask who dances in the club the last Saturday of every month and gets Cora to lead him around on the dog leash...?”

The last Saturday of the month was amateur night at the club. “You’re kidding me. That’s…”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And you…?”

“Might have hinted it was in his best interest to make sure your petition for guardianship was fast tracked.”

“Blackmail?”

“Of course not. Just a gentleman’s agreement to make sure our working relationship stayed amiable.”

Preston turned and gave Carter a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Carter was slower to return the embrace. His arms came up almost clumsily. It struck him that he had fucked more men in his life than he had hugged.

Still though, Preston’s body fit perfectly into his arms. He found himself loathe to let go. “You’re welcome.”

XoX XXX XoX

Preston woke up in the middle of the night. Though all of his things were in Carter’s room for appearance’s sake, he was sleeping the first guest room. Unable to sleep with so many worries and thoughts swirling in his head, he got up. He pulled on Carter’s housecoat (which he had commandeered and wasn’t entirely planning on giving back) and padded out into the living room, thinking perhaps he’d watch a little late, late night TV.

He was surprised to find Carter was up, too, sitting on a leather chair by the TV, iPad in his hands. He was still dressed from the club, wearing his shirt and suit pants, tie discarded.

“Preston.” The older man didn’t look up as he spoke. “You’re up late.”

“Couldn’t sleep. What are you doing this late?”

Carter did look up then, eyes raking over Preston. Without explanation he held up the iPad.

Preston came forward and took it, sitting down on the end of the sofa to take a look. The Kindle app was running, he flipped through to find a title. “Really? Dr. Brinks’ Guide to Parenting: Infants to Toddlers?”

“She has a lot of good information in there.”

Preston skimmed a few pages. “You’re reading this? Why?”

“Why not? You’re going to be taking care of your nephews here in my condo, I thought it might be good to learn a little something about what to expect.”

“True, I guess. I should probably be doing the same thing.” Preston moved to hand the iPad back after a minute.

Carter stopped him. “Take it for now; I have the book on my laptop, too.” He reached across to the coffee table, opening and booting up the laptop.

Preston settled back in the sofa to read. Within minutes he was slumped against the sofa arm, asleep. The iPad teetered in his slack hands. Rolling his eyes slightly, Carter plucked the device up. He went back to reading himself, accompanied by Preston’s soft snores.

XoX XXX XoX

“I can’t believe I finally have them,” Preston murmured with awe.

The pick-up from the Freeman’s foster home had gone smoothly. Both boys had fallen asleep in the car on the way home. They were still sleeping now, in their carriers, placed on the sofa in the middle of the living room. Preston and Carter stood in front of the sofa, just looking at them.

“They’re all yours,” Carter confirmed.

A tear escaped down Preston’s cheek and quickly dashed it away, embarrassed.

Carter saw the pained look cross Preston’s face and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Preston shook his head and finally questioned softly, “What if I can’t do this?”

“You don’t have to. Not all alone.” Carter replied stepping closer and squeezing Preston’s shoulder. “Besides, I, at least, finished that book.”


XoX XXX XoX