Author: Sheepie PM
Sam didn't believe in miracles, but then again he didn't think he'd ever get the chance to sit on Santa's lap again. Maybe this Christmas he'd get his wish. SLASHRated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 3 - Words: 15,075 - Reviews: 46 - Favs: 67 - Follows: 14 - Updated: 12-08-10 - Published: 12-01-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2869638
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: So this was originally going to be a one-shot Christmas special I was going to post for you guys. But then I fell in love with the characters and decided the story simply couldn't be done justice in one chapter. It won't be long, two or three chapters most likely, but it will be more then one chapter.
Warning(s): Adult Situations, Strong Language, Strong Sexual Situations
Last Christmas was playing over the stereo, filling the preschool and almost being completely canceled out by the joyful shrieks of well over thirty preschoolers. Sunny Oak Preschool was holdings its annual Christmas party, and even though I wasn't really in the holiday spirit, I couldn't help but smile as I watched three dozen and some preschoolers bounce around Santa. I felt like the song was a theme for my holiday, minus giving my heart away again. I had no plans of giving my heart out ever again. I had learned last year what it meant to be in love, and after watching my two year relationship implode in my face on Christmas Eve, as well as a decade's worth of bad relationships, I was ready to throw in the towel. Some people were meant to be in love, I wasn't one of them.
Sure, at first I had been like an angst-filled teenager, rolling about in my own misery. I spent last Christmas nursing a pitcher of margaritas and breaking all the gifts I had bought Stephen. Later would I decide that it would have been smarter to return them and cash in the hundreds of dollars I spent on a trip to Tahiti. But now, one year later, I was resolved to live out my life alone. My happiness was in my work and running Sunny Oak.
Kids were my passion, and if my life had been different, I might have had my own. Who knows, maybe I'll adopt on my own. Yeah… like an adoption agency would give a single gay man a child.
I crouched down, taking the damp cloth I had been wringing out at the sink and wiped the chocolate smeared face of one of the little tikes. She beamed at me, eyes as large as saucers, pupils tiny from all the sugar she was hoped up on.
"Did you see Santa?" I asked with a smile.
She nodded her head, brown curls bobbing around her cherubic face, "yesh Sammy!"
I told the kids to call me Sam (or Sammy as some preferred) because it was easier then trying to get them to pronounce Mister Macalister. I had tried it once, and that had been a barrel of monkeys. They had come up with every variation to say my name, but none could actually pronounce it.
I nudged her towards a fray of kids, saying, "okay, well go play Sally."
She bounced and ran towards her friends, her dress flopping around her knees. I rose up and looked over at Santa and the line of kids waiting to sit on his knee. He had on one of those fake beards and a wig of white ringlets, covering up his handsome face and hiding his shaggy brown locks. Our Santa for the year was Kris Ringles, one of the parents. He fit the part of Santa Claus to a T--his eyes twinkled when he laughed, and he held more warmth in his body than anyone else I knew.
His brown eyes, which were like chocolate and caramel swirled together, looked up to meet mine and he flashed me a smile. I couldn't help but smile back, tucking a loose strand of blond hair behind my ear. He let out a robust laugh as he picked up another little kid, a boy named Johnny, and placed him on his knee. His voice boomed and for a second I really believed he was Santa Claus.
"What do you want for Christmas little boy?" Kris asked, bouncing Johnny on his knee.
I turned away and walked over to the food table, taking stock. We were running low on chocolate chip cookies, and I wasn't about to let a war break out from them running out. I dropped the washcloth in the sink and walked off to storage, glancing back on last time to Kris as he handed Johnny a mini candy cane.
I was tired, running on adrenaline and four cups of coffee. I had been organizing the party and taking care of finances for the last month. My stomach churned grimly, nausea bubbling up into a lump in my throat. I was trying hard not to let my thoughts drift off to the financial problems Sunny Oak was facing, but the hard truth was, I didn't know how much longer we'd last.
I stopped in front of the storage closet and leaned my head against the door, letting my knotted shoulders slump. Within this past week alone I probably got at most eight hours of sleep. My body was screaming at me, begging me to give it a break.
"Merry Christmas," I mumbled to no one in particular. It was becoming a tradition for my Christmas to be overshadowed by grim news.
What was I going to do? Parents were withdrawing their kids because they couldn't afford preschool, and because they couldn't afford it, I couldn't afford paying my bills. We had gone from almost a hundred kids, to thirty eight. I didn't want to think about next year and how many kids I would have left. I bit my bottom lip, gnawing at it anxiously. The worst part about it all though, was that I'd have to give up my final piece of happiness. I lived to work now. Without the school, I had nothing. Just a dog, an apartment, and my hand.
I threw open the closet door and pulled out the package of Chip Ahoy cookies, carrying them back into the Oak Tree room. It was the largest room in the preschool and the logical choice for the party.
I looked over at the clock hanging above the door. As much as I loved my kids, I was getting ready to go home.
"Sam, Eric just got sick." Amy, one of the teachers, said.
I held in a groan, cracked a wide smile, and called out, "okay!"
I emptied out the package of cookies on the plate and headed over to the corner of the room with the washcloth. Eric was standing in front of a red pile of vomit with suspicious chunks that could either be mac-n-cheese or cookies. Sobs escaped him, snot running down his nose, his eyes blood red from tears. I crouched down in front of him and said to Amy, "Tell Terry to keep the kids away from here and go get me the trashcan, some paper towels, and the mop."
"Okay," Amy said, looking a little green around the edges. She spun around, brown ponytail swinging, and hurried off to do her job.
"Hey, hey," I said to Eric, turning my focus on him, "it's okay. What's wrong? Eat too much junk food?"
Eric sniffled and nodded, whining, "I want my mommy."
I cradled his face in my hand, wiping a stray tear with my thumb before cleaning his face up. "Okay, it'll be alright. Lets get you some ginger ale and have you sit down. I'll give your mother a call, kay?"
"A-are you mad at me?" He sobbed, words slightly slurred.
I laughed softly and cleaned the new tears before rubbing his head, tossing his red hair, "why would I be mad? Now have you seen Santa yet?"
He nodded, bottom lip jutting out. "Yeah…"
"What you ask him for?" I asked.
"Cruncher!" He chirruped, eyes brightening.
My mind went blank. "Cruncher?"
"Yeah!" He completely forgot about vomiting and flapped his hands in excitement, "he's a dinosoh and he eats people!"
I chuckled and nodded my head, "sounds cool."
"How you feeling? You still want me to call your mother?" I asked as Amy dragged the trashcan and a roll of paper towels over.
Eric shook his head, "no!" He was off running, joining Sally and Johnny.
"You want me to help?" Amy asked, hazarding a glance at the vomit with a look that said she was ready to blow chunks her self.
"I got it," I said, shooing her off, "go make sure everyone is alright. I don't want more vomit piles popping up."
I crouched down and began to clean, probably for the thousandth time in my life thankful for my steel stomach. Once I got the mess cleaned parents began to trickle in, collecting their kids. I had Amy put the mop away and went to say goodbye, wishing everyone a merry Christmas. The next time I'd see all of them, it be a new year.
White Christmas slipped onto the stereo and I hummed as the last parent drove off. I exhaled, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned to face the aftermath of the party. It was not a pretty sight.
"Well, at least they had fun," I mused, rubbing my hands together.
Kris got up, stretching his arms over his head. He was built with a husky frame; six-feet with broad shoulders and a round, solid stomach. His jaw line was square and traces of baby fat that probably haunted him his entire life clung to his cheeks. He pulled off the beard, revealing his straight nose and thin lips. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled, his crows feet becoming more prominent.
"Great party Sam," Kris said, pulling off his Santa hat and wig.
"Well it wouldn't have been a hit with out you, Santa," I teased, unable to help my self. Whenever I was around him, I found my worries melting away. He was the kind of person you couldn't help but be happy around. He was always making me laugh, every chance he got it seemed.
Before Kris could say anything, Terry asked, "where should we start?"
She had a bleak expression on, and I knew she was anxious to get home. It was a pretty Friday night, the first nice day we had in awhile. There was a blanket of snow on the ground and the air held a cool chill to it, only a few stray clouds in sight. I surveyed the mess, glad we had kept it all in the Oak Tree room. It use to be we'd spread out the parties individually and just designated one room the Santa room. But that was when I was pushing a hundred in kids.
"Why don't you clear the food off Terry, pack up whatever is left over. Amy, you and Caroline start picking up toys and trash. Stephanie can you start wiping things down?" I looked at them all. All four of the women looked around the room and then at me, but they put on a smile and went to work.
Kris walked up, looking funny in his red suit without his beard and wig, and asked, "what do you want me to do? I can help."
"Don't you have to get home?" I didn't want to keep him longer then he needed to. He did us a big favor playing Santa. "Where is Daniel by the way? I noticed he didn't come today."
"He's with Tammy," Kris said, shrugging weakly, "he was bummed he couldn't come, but his mom wanted to take him to her parents."
"Oh, well then, I won't feel guilty for using you. Mind helping me wash dishes?" I asked, already moving to gather the trays and bowls.
I turned the sink on and dropped the stopper down the drain. Water filled the basin, bubbles forming as soon as poured some soap in. I put the dishes in the water and began to scrub, humming along to the Christmas music. Kris stood beside me, rinsing and drying each dish I passed his way. It was tasks like these that made my mind drift. I'd always been the type of person to just drift off when working, my mind going somewhere beyond my grasp.
"You okay?" Kris asked, shattering my daze.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah… why?" I responded nonchalantly, handing him a bowl we used for chips.
"You've seemed distant today, like your mind is somewhere else." He said, voice low and husky. I liked the way he talked; he had a sweet voice, rich like hot fudge. Everything about him was sugary sweet. I could feel my cheeks warming up and quickly directed my thoughts away from the texture of his voice and the idea of him watching me. God I was horny, a year was a long time to go with out sex.
"Oh, well… I guess my mind has just been drifting." I said. No one knew about the financial situation Sunny Oak was in, not even my employees. I couldn't bear to break the bad news to them, especially so close to Christmas.
I could feel Kris' eyes on me, but I refused to meet them. I trained my own green eyes on the dwindling supply of dirty dishes. Finally he looked away and went back to work, not approaching the subject again. One by one the girls finished their jobs and asked if they could go. There was still work to do: vacuuming, wiping down the windows from where a mural of sticky hand prints was made, and straightening up the room in general. but I knew they all wanted to get back home. They had families and friends and lovers to get home to.
"Okay, you guys can go. I'll finish up here. Merry Christmas everyone." I said, giving a small wave.
I looked at Kris when they left, saying with a weak smile, "you can go too, you've been more than enough help. I'm sure you got plans tonight."
"Not a single one," he said, rocking back on his heels, "got the elves doing all the work at home."
I laughed, staring up at him with a sense of ease. He was just an inch taller than me, but he dominated me in size. I was lean from my years on the high school and college track team. "Okay, well then Santa, while I wash the windows, you go straighten up the art corner."
I grabbed some old news papers we kept in one of the cabinets and some window cleaner and started wiping down the paw prints, mindful of the pictures taped up. The last bit of twilight was fading from the sky, the moon a slither hung high amongst a bed of diamonds. The backyard was covered in a flawless carpet of snow, the jungle gym and swings topped off with piles of white. All of it seemed perfect in the quiet December night and my heart shattered into a million pieces at the thought of losing it all.
I had gone over the books, and no matter how many times I crunched the numbers the outcome was the same; dismal. I was barely scraping by. I was shocked I could get the money to cover the bills for this month.
I wanted to cry, even though the tears would be useless. I just wanted to do something, anything, to let out all of my frustration. It was balled up inside me, locked away so no one could see. I couldn't vent at work, and I didn't want to lay my problems on my friends. The only person I had to talk to was my dog Linus, and he didn't provide much help.
"Care to sit on Santa's lap?" Kris asked, once more startling me from my reverie. He was back in his chair, Santa hat back on, minus the beard and wig. I gave a whisper of a smile, my energy zapped. He patted his knee, "come on, tell Santa what you want."
This was ridiculous. I didn't need to complicate my life more, but I found my self drifting over to him. "Don't you think I'm a little too old?" I asked, arching a brow.
"You're never to old to believe in Santa," Kris said, "now sit down."
I hesitated, trying to ignore the devil on my shoulder tempting me to sit. In the end he won and I took a seat on Kris' lap, hooking one arm around his shoulder to keep balance. I could smell his cologne and it drove my senses wild. What was wrong with me? Why was my body betraying me like this? I didn't need my heartbroken anymore than it already was. Stephan had stomped on it already, leaving it in intensive care, and now with Sunny Oak on the verge of bankruptcy… I just didn't need anymore problems in my life.
"So, tell Santa Claus what you want for Christmas."
I swallowed, looking at my lap as if the answer to my problems were sitting in it. His eyes were on me again, I could feel them, staring deep into my soul. Hesitantly I looked up, meeting his gaze. My breath came out in a shutter and I told my self to behave. On top of everything else, this was one of my student's parents. Granted he was single, and from what Daniel let slip, gay, but that didn't mean anything could happen.
I bit my bottom lip and looked down again. It was like someone had decided to wrap chicken wire around my stomach, squeezing as tight as possible.
"Come on, tell me what you want."
What did I want? A Christmas miracle was what I wanted, what I needed. Something to help me find an answer. But miracles weren't real. This wasn't some holiday movie, where an angel descends down and grants me a wish, or Santa rides by and spreads a little magic. This was real life, and real life doesn't come with miracles.
But that didn't stop me from wanting one.
"A miracle," I whispered, voice more delicate than I wanted it to be.
Kris was silent for a second, one hand moving to rest on my back, the other on my knee. I couldn't stop the shiver from chasing down my spine. "A miracle?" He asked, trying to catch my gaze.
I nodded. "I don't know how much longer Sunny Oak is going to last. There's no money coming in and parents are pulling kids out, I can't even be sure if we'll be around next year." My voice cracked and I felt all the emotions I had dammed up, threatening to burst out.
"Sam…" Kris trailed off.
I squeezed my eyes shut and hissed, "shit… I'm sorry, I don't need to be telling you this. I wasn't trying to lay anything on you…"
His hand tangled in my hair, pulling me down to meet his lips. In the back of my mind I screamed to pull back, but it was hard to resist, nearly impossible. He tasted like Christmas cookies, and I found myself devouring him, wanting more than what I deserved. Kris was more than willing to give though, one hand cupping the back of my head, the other sliding up to squeeze my hip.
All the tension inside me boiled up and over. I just wanted to forget, even if it was just for a millisecond. His tongue found mine, dueling for dominance and conquering. His hands were powerful, more powerful than I ever expected, but they moved with nimble gentleness as well. I felt treasured, and it was strange.
I shifted so I was straddling his lap, not breaking contact. My arms locked around his neck, my hard cock pressed against his stomach. I could feel him through the Santa pants and in the back of my mind, with the voice yelling at me to stop, I knew this was wrong. He was in a freaking Santa suit for Christ's sake, and this was my classroom! But my body wanted him. After a year of abstinence, it was ready to find release.
"Sam," Kris mumbled, pulling away only long enough to dip his head down and nip at my throat. My hips pressed deep into him, my jeans suddenly way to tight for their own good. I was burning up, the damn Christmas sweater I had worn today turning my body into a walking furnace. I pulled back and reached down with both hands, pulling the sweater off. Cold air hit my chest and my nipples instantly hardened into tight pebbles.
"Fuck," Kris said, Santa hat falling off. Every childhood memory I had was crushed by the smoldering gaze he was giving me and I broke out into a peel of laughter because of it.
He blinked warm eyes, a brow rising up high on his forehead. "What's so funny?"
I shook my head, unable to stop the spout of laughter from bubbling up. "N-nothing," I gasped, "its just… you're in a Santa suit."
Kris blinked again, slowly this time, and then laughed himself, "I am."
I leaned forward, head knocking against his, my breath slowing back down. He looked at me with that melting gaze and I felt my control leave me again. His hands were up my back, burning a trail along my spine. I arched up into his touch, head falling back as he continued his assault on my jugular.
"H-hold on," I stuttered out, face flushed with a mix of desire and embarrassment. But God, he was giving me the greatest gift anyone could this season--a fantasy.
He waited as I climbed off him, hands shaking as I undid my belt. A thrill was racing through me like lightning running down a metal rod. I slid my belt out and dropped it to the ground as I kicked my shoes off, cautiously meeting his gaze. His eyes were shrouded over, so dark they seemed almost volcanic, raw hunger sparking them. I bit back a groan and undid my top button, my hands moving on their own accord. It was like my spirit had left my body and I was watching from the sidelines. I'd never done anything so illicit. It was one of the reasons Stephen had left me. There were other reasons--like our different stances on children--but one had clearly been because I was too boring in bed. I was vanilla and he was chocolate.
Well who was vanilla now?
I slid my zipper down, my heart quickening in pace. It was a building storm, a clap of thunder in my chest, so loud in resonated in my ears. I looked away from Kris' eyes and dropped my pants, stepping out of them in only my briefs.
"God you're beautiful," Kris murmured huskily to himself.
I suddenly needed to cover my self, squirming under his appraisal. He was looking at me like I was some rare gem that he discovered at the bottom of a treasure trove. I felt precious beneath his stare.
There was no turning back, any chance to rewind the clock had been lost as soon as I climbed off his lap. I didn't want to though. I took a deep breath and made the final plunge, my briefs coming off. Kris took in a sharp breath but I didn't wait for him to say anything, I turned around and put to good use all the seasons of America's Next Top Model that I watched. I strutted over to the counter, my hips swaying and my feet light, feeling for the first time in ever like a million bucks.
I leaned against my forearms on the linoleum counter, spreading my legs wide to display my firm ass to him. I looked over my shoulder with what I hoped was a drop dead sexy gaze. "So Santa, you going to give me my gift?"
Kris' face went bright red like a cherry, but there was no denying what he wanted. He rose to his feet and crossed the room, hands finding my sides and running up caressingly. I closed my eyes, sighing into his gentle touch. He grasped my hips firmly, fingers kneading the muscles encouragingly.
"Are you sure?" He asked in a whisper.
"Yes," I breathed, opening my eyes to meet his stare.
He nodded and quickly undid the thick black leather belt that went with the suit, pushing down his bright red velvet pants. He had on a pair of candy cane striped boxers and they made me smile. "Lubricant?" He asked.
Shit. It never dawned on me that we had nothing. I turned around and dropped to my knees, carefully pulling his boxers down. They were silk, running smoothly through my fingers like water. I licked my lips, his hard cock springing forward. He was of average size, but thick, the head curving up and uncircumcised. I flicked my tongue over the tip and then swallowed him up, sucking on him like he was my very own candy cane.
Kris tangled his hands in my hair, guiding my head as I came down on him. "God I've always dreamed about this," he groaned and I could hear the smile in his voice.
I indulged him for a little longer, lathering him up with my saliva. When I was sure he was good and wet I pulled away and got back onto my feet, turning so my ass was to him. I reached back and spread my cheeks for him, moaning, "please, hurry. Put it in."
Was that me talking? My voice was so whispery and thick with sex.
Kris grabbed my hips again, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. I moaned, suddenly feeling hyper sensitive. In one smooth motion he slid in, pushing all the way to the root of his dick. My eyes grew wide as he filled me, his thickness stretching me. I let out a high pitched moan, trying to grab on to the counter but unable to find something solid to grip.
Kris stilled for a few moments, letting me catch my breath as I adjusted to his girth. I was feeling impatient, my body going into heat. I rolled my hips, urging him to move, moaning out, "please, move."
His lips were all over my back, tracing the notches in my spine as he began to thrust. He was soft against my backside, embracing me in strong, warm arms. The velvet of the Santa jacket rubbed against my skin and I shuttered at the enticing feel. He thrust up into me and I met him each time, delirious with the need to feel him all around me. His breath tickled my ear, his cologne filling my nostrils. What was it? I loved it, but couldn't pinpoint the brand.
He reached around, his hand fisting around my own aching shaft. In time with our thrusts he began to jerk me off, dragging us to the brink of insanity. He moved with a great deal of stamina, rising up into me; it wasn't pounding, but instead long languid strokes of his cock in my squeezing channel. He was appreciating each thrust.
We didn't say anything, I think we were both too scared. We just moaned out, voices echoing over Silent Nights. My stomach tightened up, like a Jack-in-the-box ready to spring out. With only a few more coaxing squeezes of his hand I came, my cum spilling over his hand and coating the doors of the cabinets. I cried out, throwing my head back and bowing my back. He lost his control and slammed into me, finishing off as my orgasm tapered down.
When we were both spent, I slumped against the counter, panting heavily like I had just done a ten mile run. He rested his forehead against my back, his breath hot against my skin, cooling the sweat that had built up over me.
The room suddenly smelled like sex, thick and suffocating. My eyes zeroed in on the white cum against the door and the horror of what just happened dawned on me. "Oh God," I whispered, throat swelling closed. I just had sex in my classroom, with one of the parents.
Kris pulled out and I could feel cum begin to roll slowly down my legs as I straightened. He reached over and grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink beside me before he cleaned up my legs and himself. I just stood there, frozen in place, unable to get past what happened.
"Sam?" Kris asked finally, after he got his pants back up and buckled. "Are you okay?"
"I… I um," I began, unable to find the words. I wanted to scream, to cry, to run away and never come back. I couldn't face him. I had used him, manipulated him so I could forget my own problems. I squeezed my eyes shut, wheezing out, "fine. I'm fine."
"I'll get your clothes…" he said cautiously, walking off.
I got another paper towel and cleaned up my mess, throwing the evidence away quickly. I felt like I was on fire, and I was sure my face probably looked like a Christmas tree ornament. I took my offered clothes from Kris and dressed as quickly as I could, my hands trembling again.
"Sam, are you sure you're okay?"
I looked at him when I got my sweater back on. Quickly I averted my gaze and stammered out, "you should go. I can clean up the rest here."
"Really, it's fine," I urged, just wanting him gone, "I'll clean up. It's late. There isn't much left to do."
"Don't do this," he said, reaching for my hand. I quickly jerked away and regretted it as soon as I did. His face crumpled and I knew he was getting the wrong impression. It wasn't him. It wasn't, as cliché as it sounded. I was the bad guy. I was the one that used him. I fucked up. I couldn't even look at my self, let alone him.
"Thank you for everything you've done. I'll see you at the new year." I managed to say, my voice only barely cracking. If there is a school next year, I thought.
Kris stood there and I was trying to will him to leave, to let me be. Finally he nodded, soundlessly collecting the rest of his things and leaving. The door shut with a soft click but it sounded like a loud slam. All the strength I had in me left and I crumpled to the ground, groaning out pathetically. From the window I could see the snow start to fall.
What did I just do?
To Be Continued...