By Cameron Lawton
Rory was in a foul mood. He'd gone to bed early because this year he had no reason to celebrate Christmas at all. Jack was away on another of his bloody courses. Why he'd had to arrange it now, for Christ's sake …
Rory peered across at the red numbers on the alarm clock and swore. Four a.m. Four o'clock in the fucking morning! He thumped the pillow and muttered
“Merry bloody Christmas, Rory Sumner” and tried to get back to sleep but it was no good. He was wide awake and now busting for a piss.
He padded into the bathroom on bare feet and then got even more angry when some idiot started revving a motorbike up outside his flat. He threw open the bathroom window and stuck his head out, ready to ask the bastard if he knew what time it was.
His mouth, already half-open to swear, dropped even wider when he saw Jack, luscious in leather, gently twisting the throttle on a Norton Commando Interstate. His lover waved at him and pointed at the motorbike.
Jack cut the engine and threw a long leg off the back of the bike, heaving it onto its stand, then racing up the steps to the flat, waving the bike keys in his hand, obviously excited as a ….. as a kid at Christmas.
When Rory opened the door, Jack was leaning on the wall, twirling the keyring around his finger and grinning, looking good enough to eat there and then.
“Happy Christmas, Major Sumner,” he laughed, throwing the keys to Rory who caught them and then grabbed Jack by the leather jacket's lapels and hauled him into his arms.
“You mad bastard! What are you doing? I thought you were in London?” Rory finally managed to say when they had finished kissing.
“I was. Just got back.”
Rory leaned back to look up into Jack's blue eyes and ran a hand over his soft blond hair.
“You're crazy, Joachim.”
“Yup, crazy for you,” his junior replied, bending forward to bite Rory's lip gently. “I remembered that you said you used to ride a bike when you were a kid. So I got in touch with an old friend of mine and he found that one...it is the right one, isn't it?” That little worried crease between his eyebrows appeared again, as it usually did when Joachim was concerned.
Rory kissed him again, his tongue exploring Jack's mouth, half way between laughter and lust.
“You set all this up? You told me you were going on a course, just to get me that bike?” Rory asked.
“I wanted this Christmas to be special. I wanted to get you something you'd really like.” He hesitated and then continued in a rush. “Because this mate I went to see, he's ex police and I had a long chat with him about work.”
Rory had led Jack back to the bedroom and was getting him out of his jacket but he stopped and frowned at his lover.
“Listen, Rory. You know we can't go on like this. Not in the Army. Well, Colin says that with our experience, we could set up as private detectives, easy. It would mean moving away from here but we could, you know, be together, properly.”
Rory threw himself on the bed and let out a long sigh
“You'd do that? Give up your career?”
“No – I'd take up a new career, with you. What say, Boss?”
Rory dragged Jack down with him and held him close.
“I say you are one crazy bastard, Joachim but …. yes, let's do it. Oh hell, I didn't get you a present!”
“Yes you did – you've just said we can be a proper couple. Best present I wanted,” Jack grinned down at Rory, tickling the hair on his chest. “All I ever wanted. Happy Christmas, Rory.”
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