Saving Santa (MxM)

3 Blame It on the Pie

He looks away as if something in the kitchen has gotten his attention. "Yeah. I need to continue my journey and make it back home before Christmas."

I am unsure what to say because I can't stop thinking why am I here?

"A toast," Cal says, bringing me back to the moment. "To new friends and new paths."

"And to finding ourselves again," I add.

"Here, here," he shouts and clinks my glass.

He watches me take a swig of my drink. His eyes tell me he wants to say something, but his mouth stays quiet. My cheeks pulsate and I turn from him and walk toward the fireplace. Before I can ask him if the firewood presently burning was the culprit for his back pain yesterday, he alerts me that dinner is ready.

Dinner is delicious and the company is delightful. Cal tells me about some of his favorite places he has traveled, and I make a mental note about my New Year's resolution possibly being to travel more. As we conclude, he cleans up our dishes, and I cut the pie. I ask him to grab the whipped cream from the fridge. Behind me, I hear the undeniable sound of spray whip going into a mouth.

"Hey! That's for the pie," I scold.

He tilts his head back and loads his mouth with another serving of the cream. Then gives me a devilish grin.

I cross my arms.

"Come get some," he suggests. "There is plenty."

Giving in, I cross the kitchen to him. When I extend my hand for him to hand over the can, Cal wags his finger.

"Open up," he commands.

I let out a sigh and tilt my head back. He comes in close, his torso touching mine. Cal's left hand comes to my chin to help direct his aim. My hands go to his hips for balance. The aerosol blast of sweet fluffiness fills my mouth. I close it with a giggle and the excess dribbles down my cheek. Without hesitation, Cal scoops the runaway whipped cream with his finger and plops it into his own mouth with a grin. He takes another shot from the can, but his eyes never leave mine and my hands never move from his waist.

"One more," I request.

Surprisingly, I am having a lot of fun being silly with Cal. It is something I didn't get to do much with Brad. He felt everyone had to be serious all of the time. Major buzzkill.

He gives me a quick fill and I gulp it down. Then, in a sneak attack, Cal tries to squirt a small blob of white on my nose, but I move at the last second. The corner of my lips and cheek get the bomb instead.

"Hey! You jerk," I jest, swatting at him.

He laughs and puts the can on the counter. My tongue reaches some of the dollop, but I can't get the remaining icing stuck in my stubble. My giant friend gently pulls me in with both ogre paws on the sides of my face and licks up the remaining whipped cream. The sensation of his tongue on my lips and face sends currents of electricity through my bones as I close my eyes and take in every moment of the guilty pleasure.

My eyes open when I feel Cal's hands no longer holding me. I find he has made it to the pie I sliced and is headed to the couch.

"Come on, Ryan. We can have dessert in here."

One minute he is licking my face the next he is across the room more interested in pie. WTF?

I grab my drink and reluctantly join him in the great room. However, my negative feelings fade away almost instantly with the warmth of the fire, the fullness of my belly, and the buzz from the wine. Cal hands me my pie with a swirl of spray whip on it. We chat about life and he serves us both a second piece. He is an open book. I start building this picture of him in my mind. Kind, confident, and generous. How is it fair to be such a good person, be so sexy, and have such a nice cock too?