Someone Special

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher. Someone Special TOP SHELF An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers PO Box 2545 Round Rock, TX 78680 Copyright 2011 by TC Blue Cover illustration by Alessia Brio Published with permission ISBN: 978-1-61040-532-4 www.torquerepress.com All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. First Torquere Press Printing: November 2011 Printed in the USA

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Dedicated to all the amazing people I was lucky enough to meet at GRL, as well as to everyone who is still looking for or has found their own someone special. Happy Holidays!

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Chapter One "Not another Christmas collection! Please, Gracie, tell me that's not what you're planning!" His agent sounded both desperate and annoyed, which was fair, really. What wasn't fair was Alonzo using the nickname Gracen hated. He didn't mind his full first name. It had been his mother's maiden name, after all, and as such Gracen appreciated the sense of history and family that came along with it. He wasn't completely thrilled that it only leant itself to being shortened to Grace or Gracie, or very rarely, the respectable enough but utterly drab Gray. It was tempting to let Alonzo believe the new collection would be the third holly-jolly group in three years. The man deserved it, just for calling him Gracie. If Alonzo hadn't been one of his closest friends -regardless of how flagrantly he abused Gracen's good nature with the hated nickname-- as well as his agent, Gracen would have, too. As it was, though, he didn't quite have it in him. "It's an Autumnal Celebration," Gracen said after letting Alonzo stew for a few more seconds. "Well, as autumnal as it can get down here. I'm still culling the wheat from the chaff, so to speak, but I should have the best of the shots to you tonight. Don't forget to check your email. Last time you forgot for a week then called me to bitch about when you'd see the proofs." Alonzo groaned. "That only happened once, damn it, and you do remember what Shelby looked like, right? I was distracted! Once!" Someone Special - 4

Gracen laughed at the reference to the woman Alonzo had been so head-over-heels for almost a year earlier, well aware of the mocking tone to his own voice. "Once was enough." He glanced at his watch, then hurried through the rest of the phone call. "If you don't have the pictures by midnight, call me, okay? Right now, I really need to go. Talk to you later, Alonzo!" He didn't know whether his agent had anything else to say because Gracen hung up. Actually, he was sure Alonzo had still been talking because trying to get off the phone with the man was harder than pulling teeth with tweezers. Gracen had somewhere to be, though, and as it was only the second day of his annual fun-job, he wasn't willing to be late, because Gracen Michaels loved Christmas. He always had and always would, regardless of his lack of family and seemingly permanent single state. There was something about the pageantry of it all that appealed to the child within, and most days he was happy to admit that even at thirty-one, his inner child was not only still alive, but doing very well. Sure, he occasionally felt the need to spank that inner moppet -usually when the borderline delinquent wanted to blow off work for a day in the park or at the beach or even at Disney -- but for the most part, he and his childish side were in agreement. Even with no remaining family, Christmas alone was far better than no Christmas at all. Not that Gracen was entirely alone. He had friends he loved, like Alonzo, friends who cared equally for him. He just didn't generally feel right about intruding on their holidays, outside of the usual Christmas parties and such. It would have been nice to have a lover for the holidays, though. That hadn't worked out for him so far, Someone Special - 5

but it didn't by any means ruin Christmas. Christmas was always good. He felt similarly charitable about a few other holidays -- Thanksgiving, for instance, was a perfectly good excuse to slap on a Pilgrim hat, or sometimes an entirely un-PC feathered head-dress and make people smile while he walked down the street snapping pictures of whatever happened to strike his fancy, but that had been days ago. Christmas was the best of the lot. Christmas was when he got to put aside his public persona as a photographic artist and be, instead, Michael Graven, proprietor of Graven Images. Close enough to his real name and sort of a play on words -- it was a flimsy attempt at disguise, but it had worked well enough for the last four years. Likely, because who would ever truly consider that the man in the elf costume, taking pictures of all the children sitting on Santa's lap at what was possibly the last privately owned shopping mall in the entire state of Florida could be more than what he appeared? Sometimes, Gracen wished it could be the Christmas season all the time. He wished he could spend every day making children smile and seeing the way their little faces lit up when they told Santa -- this year, he was a retired sanitation worker named Bernard, who had the classic Santa physique and "Ho-ho-ho!" down pat -exactly what they wanted under their trees come Christmas morn. Gracen didn't have any desire for children of his own, but he did enjoy seeing their excitement. "Uh-oh, we have a cry-er." The words were muttered from right behind him, but Gracen didn't jump. He also didn't turn around to look at the person who'd spoken. It was only the new elf's second day on the job, and Someone Special - 6

Gracen already knew the guy had some sort of sixth sense about the kids. It was somewhat amazing, considering the elf was working the Santa gig for the first time ever. "I'm going in with candy cane therapy. You might want to try the light-up nose. The last thing we need is the start of a chain reaction." Gracen stifled a laugh as the elf -- really not an elf, of course, but a six-feet tall, twenty-five-ish young man with floppy brown hair and hazel eyes that always seemed to be laughing -- pranced goofily toward Santa's throne, waving the mentioned candy cane. The child who had obviously been gearing up to scream down the roof paused in the midst of gathering a deep breath, though Gracen couldn't be sure if that was due to the promise of candy or the way the elf, Jesse, bounced and bounded across the fake snow and glitter-strewn terra cotta tiles. Jesse had definitely managed to learn how to maneuver in the curl-toed elf shoes since the previous afternoon, which was a relief. Gracen honestly hadn't minded seeing the poor guy ass-up, repeatedly, when adjusting the things. While the sight had given him some very happy feelings, they weren't feelings appropriate to the Santa's Workshop photo station. Considering that Gracen was attired very similarly to Jesse -- curly shoes, pointy ears, small green shorts, tights and a top that was more of a slightly long vest with built-in sleeves -- his body's reaction to seeing Jesse's bottom presented so appealingly might be misinterpreted by any parents who happened to notice. Luckily, the rather bulky, fabric draped disguise-stand his camera perched in had hidden that the day before, but there were no guarantees. Even if there were, sporting wood while photographing children was creepy, even with Jesse as a reason, so Someone Special - 7

Jesse's new skill with the elf-shoes? Yeah, that was a good thing. Equally good was not having Jesse punch him in the face for ogling his ass. Gracen was a big fan of not being punched in the face, or any other body part for that matter, and while he wanted to think Jesse might be gay, he couldn't be sure, so… no ogling. He didn't have time for that, anyway. He had Christmas memories to make for the parents lined up, waiting to have their children photographed with Santa. That those same children would be embarrassed by the pictures in a decade or less was a given, but there it was. At the moment, the kids loved Santa and the parents would be happy, and that was what mattered. "I thought you were going to put on the nose," Jesse said with a grin, and Gracen laughed. He pulled the light-up nose from the small pocket of his elf-vest and squeezed it, both to turn the light on and make it fit. "I was hoping the candy cane would be enough." Gracen shrugged. A laugh answered him and Jesse moved just a halfstep closer. It was just enough to make Gracen uncomfortable, or rather enough to make his tights start to be a little too tight, so he shifted away. "I just like seeing you in the nose," Jesse whispered, apparently not noticing Gracen's discomfort. "It's very Rudolphian." Gracen's eyes rolled as Jesse winked, but then Jesse returned to his usual post at the velvet, snowflakeadorned rope behind the camera stand and Gracen shook his head before getting back to work. The crier wasn't crying after all, and that was yet another sign of the magic of Christmas, as far as Gracen was concerned. *** Someone Special - 8

"Ugh, I so don't want to go to work." Jesse groaned out loud as he kicked off his sneakers, then pulled off the green and red tights, tossing them aside. They landed on top of his backpack which contained, among other things, the curly-toed elf-shoes he was required to wear at his temporary, part-time job, which wasn't to be confused with his permanent, full-time position as a night shift cashier at the twenty-four hour Welling's grocery store. "So don't," Jazz told him from the doorway and Jesse yelped, covering his groin with his hands. "God damn it, Jasmine! How many times have I told you to knock?" Jesus Christ, it had to be at least a million. "Close to naked here, in case you didn't notice! And aren't you supposed to be studying or something? Christ! At least turn around!" Jazz rolled her eyes, but she turned, presenting Jesse with her back. "I swear, you act like I've never seen a guy in his underwear before. Get over it. Though I guess a jock strap isn't really 'underwear,' is it? You're such a slut." "It works better under the tights," Jesse grumbled, even as he snatched up the slacks he wore for work and shook them out. Not too wrinkled, thank God. They would do for one more night. "Notice I'm not commenting about the whole you-seeing-guys-in-theirunderwear thing, but if I were, maybe the word 'slut' would be directed at someone in this room who isn't me." "I'm not in the room," Jazz said, sounding smug as all hell. "I'm in the doorway. Therefore there's nobody else in your actual room to whom that word might be applied. Besides, you're my brother. I've seen you in less." Someone Special - 9

Jesse groaned and shimmied into his work pants. "When I was, like, six. I seriously doubt that counts, if you even remember it. Okay, I'm decent." She turned around and Jesse corrected himself before she could open her smarty-pants mouth again. "Dressed. I mean dressed. You seriously need to learn how to knock, Jazz. What if I wasn't alone in here?" Jazz gave him one of her probably-patented skeptical looks. "Please. You've been alone in here since Brady bailed on you last year. Which, coincidentally, is the last time I saw you in less than underwear. Believe me when I say I'm not in any rush to be subjected to that particular vision again. I had nightmares for weeks." Jesse was sure she was kidding. Well, he hoped so, anyway. He could never be sure with Jazz. She might be three years younger than he was, but she was much smarter, as was proven by the fact that she'd been Valedictorian of her high school class and had been granted partial scholarships for college. Jesse had managed to escape high school with a diploma, somewhere right in the middle of his own graduating class. College hadn't really been an option after everything that had happened less than a year later. Hell, it was amazing that Jazz had managed to stay focused enough to even stay in school, much less excel. "That just proves that you need to learn how to knock," Jesse insisted, refusing to let their history drag him down any more than it always did. Fortunately, he'd already been grumpy about working that night, otherwise Jazz would have noticed, he was sure. Smart as a whip and twice as cutting, when she wanted to be, which wasn't often, thank God. "Why aren't you studying?" Someone Special - 10

Jazz sighed and pushed her long, wavy brown hair back behind her ear. "It's Saturday night, Jesse. You remember -- the weekend? It's this semi-mythical time that comes around each week, during which people are mandated by God, and everything right and true, to have fun! You've already worked today. Why don't you blow off Welling's and go out for a change? Have a drink, have a dance, have a grope in some sleazy men's room that stinks of urinal cakes, amyl nitrate, old booze and sex. That'd probably help you relax." She grinned widely and Jesse groaned. She shouldn't have been able to mortify him so easily, Jesse knew that. She was his little sister, for fuck's sake. Of course, she also shouldn't have had any idea about what the sort of bathroom she'd mentioned smelled like, either, and Jesse was afraid to ask about that. He was even more afraid that if he did ask, she'd tell him. "Go. Away." He said it slowly, distinctly, and put every bit of wishful thinking he could behind it. "I'm going to work, and you're going to find some sort of studying to do. I thought you had a paper due on Monday." He knew she did. Not because he was nosy or anything, but because she'd told him as much a week and a half earlier. Jesse trusted his sister to take her education seriously, but sometimes Jazz liked to be reminded just how much he cared about her and their little family, such as it was. Jazz blushed a little, but Jesse could tell it was the pleased sort, rather than the embarrassed variety. He might not have known her little expressions and quirks as well when they'd been kids, but the last six years had taught him those things he'd been too absorbed with his own life to notice about her. "It's done," she said Someone Special - 11

quickly. "I finished it this afternoon. Now I need to let it sit until tomorrow night so I can polish it with fresh eyes and catch any mistakes I made. Hey, if you blow off work tonight, you can come to the movies with me and Sara. Well, Sara and her cousin. We're thinking about seeing--" "It doesn't matter," Jesse announced, cutting Jazz off. "I'm doing the whole elf-gig so we'll have money when the property taxes come due. I can't blow off Welling's for even one night if we want to make the mortgage payment. You know that, Jazz." Jazz sighed, her blush fading into a slightly angry expression. "I know, Jesse, but that doesn't make it fair. You're busting your ass every single day, just about, and for what? So we can break even? You need to let me get a job. Even something part-time, okay? I could find something at the college that wouldn't interfere with my classes." Jesse was shaking his head long before she got past the first mention -- that day -- of working. "No, and no, and oh, by the way? No." He glared. "Your scholarships and grants are already lined up for law school next year, but if you don't finish out this year with the same sort of grades they expect from you, they could fall through. I'm counting on you to focus on your education and eventually be able to keep me in the style to which I hope to become accustomed and that's not going to happen if you're distracted by some job clearing trays in the cafeteria or whatever!" He sighed when her mouth dipped down into a frown and gentled his own voice. "I'm sorry, Jazz. I know you hate that I'm always working, but this elf thing is only for a few more weeks. It's kind of fun, anyway, even if the costume is ridiculous." Someone Special - 12

That wasn't even a lie. Jesse was actually enjoying himself at the mall. It helped that he got to stand behind the oh-so-hot photographer, Michael. The man was beyond stunning, though Jesse didn't know why. Michael wasn't gorgeous or anything; in fact, if Jesse had to categorize the man based on looks alone, there really wasn't anything special about him. Oh, Michael had beautiful hair that would hang past his shoulders if it were allowed to flow free instead of being tied up. It was that dark red color that always looked slightly fake, but was still obviously real, as strange as that seemed even to Jesse, and had lighter orange-ish streaks from the sun. Still, the rest of the man was technically ordinary. His build was neither heavy nor lean; not hard and not flabby. Michael was neither tall nor short; Jesse estimated the man at close to his own height, but for an inch or so. The lightly tanned features, which bore only the smallest trace of the pinkish hue Jesse would have expected from a greeneyed redhead, were even and pleasant, but not what anyone would call remarkable. In short, Jesse figured that taken as a whole, Michael was more average than anything else, and yet there was something about the man. Some sort of brightly shining joy that gave Michael an appeal Jesse couldn't deny. It didn't hurt that Michael's ass looked amazing in the shorts they both wore for their mall jobs, either. Or maybe it was that Michael held himself with such a degree of confidence. Jesse had always heard that confidence was one of the best aphrodisiacs. He'd never believed it, but that could be it, really. Michael held himself like he knew exactly what he was doing and had no doubts about his ability to not Someone Special - 13

only do it, but do it well. Maybe that was what took Michael from ordinary to extraordinary. "Earth to Jesse; come in, Jesse!" The sudden pale blur in front of his face resolved itself into Jazz's hand waving, once Jesse made himself focus. "Sorry." He mentally scrambled for what their last topic of conversation had been, then did his best to pick up where he'd left off, however many seconds ago it had been. "I'll have time to relax once this Christmas thing is finished, and you're not getting a job! Not at the college and definitely not outside it. We'll be fine, Jazz. I promise." Jazz's eyes narrowed just a bit, which didn't bother Jesse. It was the smirk on her face that had his stomach clenching. He knew that look. It was her pulling-thewings-off-flies look, only Jazz would never do anything like that to poor, defenseless insects. She reserved her torture for him. "Fine," she said, still smirking. "Don't think for a minute that I missed the weird, creepy, lustful expression you were just wearing, but I'm going to let it slide for now since you're so determined to work tonight. And we're going to talk about this whole parttime job thing, too. Between the mall job, your 'real' job, and your paper deliveries in the mornings, something's got to give and I'm not going to let it be your health. So go to Welling's and we'll talk tomorrow. After you've slept. I'll make the coffee strong enough to stand a spoon up in it." Well, with any luck at all, Jazz would have forgotten about the alleged look of lust on his face by the time he got home. Sadly, the luck Jesse did have wasn't generally that accommodating. Still, there was no point in worrying about it right then. He had to get to the store Someone Special - 14

and work his shift. Even late at night, there would be enough other things to worry over. He wasn't going to think about Michael-thephotographer, either. There really wasn't any point. Michael was so far out of his league that Jesse might as well have been playing peewee football to Michael's NFL. Which didn't rule out a holiday fling, but that was another thing Jesse wasn't going to think about right then. Maybe later, when he was home and the Sunday papers had been delivered and he had no other obligations. No, definitely then, when Jesse was all snug in his bed with the blinds drawn and nobody around to be any the wiser. Jazz should be on her morning run by the time Jesse hit the sack. He was fairly sure he could manage whatever thinking he needed to do during her habitual five miles, not to mention that Sunday nights were his only nights off at Welling's and Monday mornings were free, as well. He didn't ride the trucks on Monday, tossing papers out on the streets for shops and newsstands, so maybe he could ask Michael out for a drink. Just a drink. That wouldn't have any impact on his schedule, Jesse was sure, unless things went really well and he and Michael wanted to go out again. Even if they did want to and Michael decided he couldn't deal with Jesse's schedule? A fling was just a fling. It would be fun while it lasted, however long or short a time that might be, though Jesse knew he was getting ahead of himself. A drink didn't necessarily equal naked, sweaty fun. It was a step in the right direction, though, so Jesse would just have to wait and see what happened. First he needed to get Michael to agree to a drink. Someone Special - 15

It was a good plan. Having a good plan let Jesse walk into Welling's with a smile on his face and deal with the late-night customers with even more patience than usual, thank God.

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Chapter Two Morning came too damned early. It wasn't a new or even unexpected thought because Gracen had known that much for years. The only time morning hadn't been intrusive in his entire life had been when it was Christmas morning, and that hadn't been a factor for almost eight years. Even at twenty-four, when Gracen had been living on his own and starting to become recognized within his craft, he'd made a point of spending Christmas Eve night at his parents' house, complete with waking in his old room at five-thirty on Christmas morning and rushing down to start opening presents. It had been a holdover from his childhood and there had been more gifts for his folks every year, but it was a tradition that had been joyous for all of them. It wasn't even close to Christmas morn, though, and it was barely eight a.m., but Gracen was awake. He was more than merely awake, he was working, which just seemed wrong after the dreams of Jesse he'd been woken from, but Alonzo had called with some concerns about the photos for Gracen's next show. If Alonzo was not only out of bed but coherent, it didn't bode well. Gracen pushed the start button on his computer, then wandered into his kitchen, small bits of sleepiness still dragging at his eyelids. He managed to get the coffee machine going, thanks in no small part to having primed the thing with fresh grounds, filter and water the night before. He didn't care for that whole K-cup system for some reason, and while some people might sneer at his Mr. Coffee, Gracen actually preferred a plain old cup of Someone Special - 17

simply brewed nirvana to any K-cup or Starbucks production. He leaned against the kitchen counter, mug already in hand, as he waited for the hiss-spit sound of the first drops hitting the heated bottom of the glass carafe, then pulled the pot away and set his cup directly beneath the dribbling ambrosia. Dribbling reminded him of his dream, damn it, and that wasn't good, so he tried to think about other things. Like death. And taxes. And Alonzo naked, which was the winner in the turn-Gracen-off sweepstakes. Two and a half minutes later, he switched pot for mug again, doctoring his black-as-pitch brew with turbinado sugar, adding a dash of heavy cream from the pint container in his fridge while the rest of the coffee sputtered into the glass pot. His computer was ready to go by the time he'd inhaled the initial mug and prepared a second, the wallpaper of Jack and Ianto from Torchwood making him smile, as usual. His smile faded quickly once he got into his email and saw Alonzo's message, because what the fuck is this supposed to be couldn't be anything like good. Alonzo had apparently saved the pictures Gracen had sent, then attached them back, but Gracen had no doubt that he was looking at exactly what Alonzo had received. The distorted, fun-house-mirror-like images were nothing like the original photos. Gracen groaned silently, then went in search of his cell phone, finding it near but not on the table beside his bed. He'd already hit Alonzo on speed dial by the time he headed back to the computer. "I don't have any idea about what happened," Gracen said instead of a more traditional greeting when Alonzo Someone Special - 18

answered the call. "The shots looked normal when I sent them. Maybe it was just a glitch or something. Let me try again." "It better be a glitch,” Alonzo said, sounding gruff. "I'm going to be really pissed off if you took a bunch of pictures based on an acid trip I really don't want to know about. Fuck, Gracie, do you have any idea how people would react to that weird shit you sent me? It's like tiedyed latter-day hippie shit! That would have been cool, like five years ago, but now? It's the kiss of death, man." Gracen rolled his eyes. "I'm rolling my eyes at you," he said, in the interests of being honest with his friend. "I'm not the hippie type and we both know I don't do drugs. If I did, I would have taken you up on it the thousand or so times you offered. It has to be a glitch in the software, I think. Let me try sending just one picture, okay?" He attached one of the photos he loved best in an email and clicked the send tab. "Okay, it's on its way. Tell me if it comes through right." There were a few moments of silence, then Alonzo grunted. "It just got here. Hold on." Gracen could hear Alonzo fumbling around a little. "Did you have coffee yet, or even a red bull?" Alonzo was more the energy-drink type. "Do I need to come down to your place and pour stimulants -- by which I mean caffeine, carbs, and ephedrine -- down your throat? I'm awake enough to take the elevator down four floors." Alonzo snorted. Loudly. "No. To both questions. All three, if we're counting the one about the picture. It came through just fine and it's fucking awesome." "Well, go get something in you to jumpstart your brain. I'll send the whole zip file." Someone Special - 19

"Whatever. Maybe I'll just go back to sleep." It was Gracen's turn to snort. "Please. We both know better than that. Once you're up, you're up. Might as well make it count. Call me if you need to. After eight tonight." Unlike Alonzo, Gracen didn't have any trouble with going back to sleep after being awake, not even with two cups of coffee in his system. He had no difficulty with resuming his earlier dream, either. Unfortunately, when Alonzo called him back it wasn't twelve hours later, but more like twenty minutes, according to the clock beside Gracen's bed. "What the fuck?" he demanded, ready to be angry until Alonzo answered him. "The one file you sent me came through just fine," Alonzo said hurriedly, "but the zip file of all the pictures together has each shot looking like the same clusterfuck as before. I don't know what's changed because I've never had a problem getting the photos before, but something is definitely wrong, man. Um. Sorry to bother you again, but it's kind of important." Well, fuck. Gracen tried to hold on to being pissed at yet another too-early and too-rude awakening, but if what Alonzo was saying was true, then he had no reason to be upset. Alonzo was looking after himself, sure, but he was also looking after Gracen. Alonzo wouldn't get his percentage if Gracen's next show didn't sell, but Gracen wouldn't get fuck-all without pictures people wanted to buy. Gracen took a deep, slow breath as he climbed from his bed yet again. "Okay. Just give me ten minutes or so to really wake up and I'll send all the pics as separate attachments, okay? You can email me if any of them are Someone Special - 20

fucked up. I'll get back to you later if I need to, but I have to be somewhere by noon." The mall didn't open until ten on Sundays, and the Santa's Workshop photo area didn't start operating until noon. There would be a huge line by then, but that was what the mall owners wanted, so Gracen wasn't going to say a word. Speaking up about how much more the mall could make by opening the photo-ops earlier would only deprive him of sleep, after all, and while Gracen wasn't lazy, he did love sleeping. It didn't take a full ten minutes to suck down another three cups of suitably doctored coffee. Hell, he'd barely been asleep at all and the heating platform under the pot only turned itself off after an hour of no activity. The coffee was blissful the second time around, even more than the first. If there was something even more superlative than ambrosia, Gracen accepted that the coffee he was swallowing like water qualified. There were more than fifty shots he needed to send Alonzo and each one was large enough to need its own email. With one eye on the clock, Gracen finally sent picture number… forty-one or so, adding the message that he had to go and would send the rest when he got home. After that, it was a simple matter to change into his elf outfit and grab his 'Santa's Helper' camera bag. It wasn't the same camera he used for his art. He'd upgraded recently. His old Nikon was more than good enough for what he was doing at the mall, though. Gracen took the elevator down to the garage, then unlocked his old clunker of an Audi. It was far from new, but he loved it. He knew how everything in it worked. There was no GPS, but he almost never went anywhere he didn't know how to get to, anyway and, on Someone Special - 21

the very rare occasion that he did, map quest worked just fine. Getting to the mall was second nature, in any case, especially considering the time of year. He was looking forward to a day of holiday cheer and happy families, smiles and good wishes. His own joyous outlook had nothing whatsoever to do with a certain tall, far too appealing --and far too young -- elf. Because at some point during the sleep Gracen had managed to get, he'd realized that no twenty-five-year-old man would be working a part-time job as a mall elf, of all things. Maybe Jesse had experienced a really hard life that made him look older. That was possible, Gracen figured, because Gracen didn't look like he was thirty-one, or even much past twenty-seven and his own life had been relatively easy. Gracen figured that worked in reverse, too, and what were the chances that Jesse was the age he actually looked? Gracen didn't have a chance to give much thought to that notion, simply because someone hailed him just as soon as he got within fifty feet of the mall doors. He knew it was Jesse when he heard the voice, but he couldn't admit it until he turned and saw the wondrous elf trotting toward him. Then Gracen turned away again, afraid of what might show, otherwise. Jesse wasn't wearing the elf-shoes yet, but that was a good thing. It left Gracen with less concern that Jesse might tumble and prove to be too much temptation. Concern or worry, it was all the same right then. "Michael!" Yeah, that was the name Gracen had stopped for, and he couldn't even pretend it had been the name rather than the voice. Fuck, he was in trouble. "Hey, Michael," Jesse said, gasping a little as he stopped jogging beside Gracen. "I wanted to ask you something." Someone Special - 22

"Okay?" God, he sounded more tentative than he liked. Fuck knew what Jesse wanted to ask, but Gracen wasn't able to make himself worry about it. Unless it was something along the lines of whether Gracen would cut off his own head -- big or small -- for Jesse's personal collection, Gracen was all for it. Still, it wouldn't do to say so, which was exactly why Gracen forced a pleasant but not overly pleased expression onto his face as he turned to confront his very welcome assailant. "What can I do for you?" If there was a God, and He was kind, the next words out of Jesse's mouth would involve bed and fucking. Jesse's cheeks pinked slightly and right then Gracen knew that God, if He existed, either wasn't kind or wasn't paying attention. Then again, why would He? Gracen was just one guy who already had a pretty damned good life. There were undoubtedly people in the world who needed God's attention far more than Gracen did. "I was wondering if we could have a drink later. A beer, maybe a cocktail? Whatever." Jesse looked so hopeful yet so nervous that it actually took Gracen a moment to gather himself. In that moment, Jesse went on with "I'm sorry, I guess maybe I assumed you were gay, but if you're not, don't worry about it, okay? I wasn't hitting on you. I just thought we could talk about… you know, photography or whatever. Uh, I'm gay, but that doesn't mean having a drink would be a date. Sometimes a drink is just a drink, right?" God, that rambling was fucking endearing. It also cleared up the question of whether Jesse swung his way, which was definitely a good thing to know. Gracen couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy to hear anything at all. Someone Special - 23

Even with the knowing, and even with the way his own body was going from zero to wickedly interested in three-point-four-seconds, Gracen couldn't help letting just a bit of the bastard side he usually kept hidden creep out. "I'm not saying no to having a drink," he said, giving Jesse a long, slow, up-and-down gaze. "But if you're thinking you'll get me all liquored-up and have your way with me, that's not gonna happen." He shouldn't have found Jesse's sudden panic so attractive. Gracen knew that. But fuck if he didn't. Of course, he also felt guilty about his own enjoyment, so once he'd opened the mall's big glass door and ushered Jesse in, he rested one hand at the small of Jesse's back. When Jesse stopped, clearly in reaction to that touch, Gracen smiled and leaned in, speaking softly into Jesse's ear. "I think I'm going to be really upset if you meant it when you said you weren't hitting on me. I think I'd like to be hit on. But either way, we're still on for that drink." Gracen stepped away and started motoring for Santa's Workshop before Jesse could respond, and he chuckled on the inside at winding the poor elf-boy up so much. He still didn't know how old Jesse was, but he had to be legal if he wanted to go for drinks. Twenty-one, at the least, which made Gracen's interest entirely acceptable. He still wondered why someone like Jesse would be working the Santa stop at the mall, though. It wasn't likely that the guy was as into Christmas as Gracen, after all, but… The thought struck Gracen like a bolt from above. He could ask Jesse when they went for their drink later. He doubted that Jesse would tell him the truth -even a twenty-one-year-old would be unlikely to share that much about his life with someone who might be just Someone Special - 24

a hook-up -- but whatever lame answer Jesse came up with would at least tell Gracen something. His rapid steps had taken him through the mall faster than he'd thought, but that was fine. Gracen ducked behind the set and toed off his Vans, then slipped his feet into the elf-shoes he'd carried with him. He couldn't help grinning at the relieved looks the parents of the notso-patiently waiting children cast him, but that was par for the course. Bernard wouldn't be stepping out from the backstage Santa Hut for another five minutes, at the soonest, but the parents wanted someone to distract the fruit of their looms. Gracen put on a voice that was at least an octave above his usual and cried out "Who's here to see Santa?" The resultant shriek was almost more than he could stand. "Well, Santa's on his way," Gracen added when the screaming died down enough that he would be heard, "but you know what Santa likes best?" "I know!" Jesse jumped up and down, hand raised, clearly in character. "Santa likes it when all the good little girls and boys on his 'nice' list don't drive their parents -- or Santa's elves -- crazy by screaming! Those of you who are on the naughty list can just keep shouting." Jesse said, but he was doing his goofy, rolling walk again as he spoke and Gracen thought he'd never seen anything better. "The louder you shout, the more lumps of coal you'll get." "And the more lumps of coal you get," Gracen added, supporting Jesse-the-elf, "the fewer real presents you get!" Gracen knew he sounded triumphant, but the kids stopped yelling, and that was what mattered. Not who had stopped the incipient riot, though he wasn't sure whether cranky children getting all aggressive counted Someone Special - 25

as a riot, as such. Either way, his words had the desired effect. The kids calmed down and started to be on their best behavior. If Gracen made it through the day without being bitten, spit on, or having his hair pulled enough to make his scalp bleed, that would count as a win, as far as he was concerned. Bernard emerged from the Santa Hut a few seconds later and, while the shrieking started again, it didn't grate on Gracen's nerves the way the earlier, similar sounds had. With Santa right there, the screams seemed more hopeful than demanding. That didn't mean he wasn't looking forward to drinks --and maybe a bit more -- with Jesse. It was that thought that took him through the day, even the most recalcitrant child getting no more from Gracen than a smile, the light-up red nose, and at one point a puppet-dance, with Gracen making a small beanie-reindeer do the Macarena. It was a good day, Gracen decided as the Santa's Workshop area closed. With any luck, it would be an even better night. *** What the fuck had he done? He'd asked Michael to go out for a drink, yes, but Jesse had a feeling there was more to it. Considering Michael's comment about wanting to be hit on -presumably by Jesse, though that wasn't guaranteed -- it seemed relatively obvious that Michael was just as gay as Jesse was. Michael hid it well, as far as Jesse could tell, and that was both good and bad, or could be good or bad. Someone Special - 26

If Michael was simply one of those already-out guys who didn't advertise their bent, that was one thing. But if Michael was firmly in the closet, that was a whole other sort of trouble. Or not, because closeted didn't mean they couldn't have that fling Jesse had been thinking about, did it? It just meant that if they did have a fling, Michael would be careful not to act like it; probably at Santa's Photo-op Shop, especially. It wasn't a good idea for two of Santa's elves -- of any sexual orientation -- to be groping each other in front of the kids, anyway, Jesse decided, so he needed to stop borrowing trouble. Just because he was attracted to Michael didn't mean they would necessarily get along away from the mall. Part of the whole elf-gig was acting, after all. There was no way to know how much of an act Michael's work-persona was until they had a chance to hang out and talk, and that was part of what going for drinks was about. "So maybe I'd better get into my real clothes and see whether he's an asshole or not," Jesse grumbled to himself as he changed in the smallish dressing room attached to the Santa Hut where the elves and Santa himself took their breaks. They weren't actually allowed to go to the food court in costume because people could and would stop them in the hopes of taking free pictures, and at thirty minutes, their breaks weren't long enough to change out into civvies, go anywhere, get back and change again. The half-closed door swung fully open and the room seemed to shrink as Bernard -- aka Santa -- strode in. "If you're talking about young Michael, he's not a jerk," Bernard said in his rumbly but jolly voice. The wide black plastic belt came off and Bernard heaved a sigh that sounded relieved. "That thing pinches. I think the Someone Special - 27

last Santa was more pillow and less personal padding." Bernard opened his locker, because as Santa, he was the only one who got an actual locker while Jesse and the other elves had cubbies, and placed the rolled-up belt on the shelf. "You know, employees aren't supposed to fraternize. It's in the employment package they gave us." True enough, but fuck it if Jesse cared. It was a temporary, seasonal job, and he and Michael might not even like each other. "I don't think having a drink with a coworker counts as fraternizing," he said with a shrug, shucking his elf-shorts and the curly-toed shoes that were more like slippers than anything else, now that he was used to them. "Doesn't that usually mean something more…" Jesse stopped, unwilling to mention sex to someone in their sixties. Something of that must have shown on his face because Bernard chuckled. "Something more naked? Yeah. Your generation didn't invent sex. You know that, right? Mine did, when I was about ten years younger than you are right now." The red and white Santa coat went into the locker and Bernard pulled out a t-shirt big enough for Jesse to use as a tent. "But we were talking about Michael and how he's not an asshole." Jesse shrugged and dragged jeans and a shirt from his backpack after pulling it from his cubby. "I thought you just started working here this year." He took his sneakers out of his bag next, then got dressed, taking his elf-top off once he'd pulled his jeans over the tights, and replacing it with the Grand Theft Auto t-shirt Jazz had given him on his last birthday. He'd never played the game, but it was a cool shirt. Bernard grinned and shucked the Santa pants and boots, revealing the knee-length board shorts he'd apparently been wearing under the suit all day. "It's my Someone Special - 28

first go at Santa-ing, but I've lived here all my life. I've seen young Michael around, even if I never talked to him before the other day. He's helped out a lot of people in the community, for no reason but because they needed it. You know he volunteers at the homeless shelter during the summer, when it's so fucking hot the place smells like a sauna in a sewer?" Bernard turned redder than he'd already been under the fake white beard. "My youngest boy was having some problems a while back. Later, we saw Michael out and about one day and Tommy told me all about it. Michael doesn't know that and I'd just as soon you didn't tell him. So Michael's not an asshole and you'll have to answer to me if you ever say he is." "Hey, I just met the guy," Jesse said easily as he shoved his costume into his backpack and zipped it. "I wasn't saying he's a dick. Just that I don't know him yet. Sort of like not knowing if a movie's any good until you see it yourself. It's cool that he helped out your kid, though. Uh. Later, man," he added, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He didn't really hear what Bernard said after that. Jesse was too busy shoving his feet into his sneakers and beating a hasty retreat. Hearing that Michael was a paragon of virtue only had Jesse more convinced that they probably wouldn't get along. No one had ever called Jesse virtuous, not even once. In fact, it was a little bit intimidating. Enough so that Jesse was considering bailing on having that drink with Michael. Right up until he emerged from the Santa Hut and saw Michael, still in his elf-duds, packing up his camera. God, it was strange, but Michael somehow managed to rock the elf outfit like nobody's business. Even if they hated each other after five minutes, Jesse had a sneaking Someone Special - 29

suspicion that red and green striped tights were going to be a secret fetish of his for the rest of his life, Michael looked so good. Then Michael looked up and saw him. Smiled. "Hey, you ready?" "Uh, sure," Jesse answered. It wasn't the most impressive reply, but Michael had asked one hell of a loaded question, even if the man didn't know it. Jesse was more than ready, just from that smile and the way Michael's eyes lit up on seeing him. The elf costume was more of a bonus than anything else. "Were you planning to. I mean, did you want to change?" Michael straightened up, camera bag in hand. "I could, but I'd have to go home first. I didn't know I'd have a date tonight. I don't mind doing that if the costume bothers you. I'm kind of a Christmas junkie, but I can see how the outfit might be kind of, um… embarrassing? For other people, I mean." "No," Jesse said quickly. "It's not a problem. So did you have somewhere you'd like to go, or should we wing it? Uh, is it okay if I ride with you? Sorry, I should have asked you that before. It's just, I took the bus in today, so I could meet you somewhere but it might take a while." Jesse would love to have his own car, but there was no way he and Jazz could afford more than one and she'd needed it to do the grocery shopping that day. It would have been cool if he could have shopped at Welling's with his discount, but even then the food was more expensive than at Publix. Michael's smile didn't change at all. Not even a small sneer at the mention of public transportation. "Of course you can ride with me. I'll even drive you home later, if you want. So, let's go." Jesse grinned, feeling more at ease all of a sudden. "I'm right behind you." Someone Special - 30

He couldn't be sure, but as he followed Michael from Santa's Workshop, he thought he heard Michael mutter something that could very well have been "For now." It only made Jesse grin more.

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Chapter Three The first drink was strange but pleasant -- not the drink itself, which had been a glass of rather ordinary white wine, while Jesse had beer -- but the situation. There was always something slightly unsettling yet intriguing about starting to get to know someone. Gracen actually enjoyed it, though he hadn't had many opportunities to experience it of late. As much as he liked being in a relationship, he also liked the early stages, when everything was new and mysterious. Not that he and Jesse were going have a relationship. They might or might not; it was much too soon to tell. Still, there was nothing wrong with getting to know the guy, was there? Worst case, Gracen figured, unless he and Jesse suddenly started hating each other, Gracen might have a new friend. A new, hot friend whose habit of drinking beer directly from the bottle had Gracen thinking about things he didn't usually imagine doing with friends, but that was irrelevant so far. They'd talked about work during their first drinks, which was a safe enough topic. They babbled to each other about the kids and the costumes and how good Bernard was at the Santa thing, though Jesse had freely admitted to being no expert on Santa Clauses. Now that their second round had arrived, Gracen was hoping they could move on to other things. Or not. "You seem really, really comfortable in that outfit," Jesse said, his head cocked to the side a bit. "I don't want to say it's weird, but it's kind of unusual." Someone Special - 32

Gracen laughed and took another sip of wine. "Isn't 'unusual' just another word for weird?" he asked after swallowing. "But yeah, I guess it could seem that way. I mean, people are sort of staring. I guess it's not every day they see a grown man in an elf costume." Especially not at the Chili's near the mall, Gracen supposed. Jesse grinned. "Well, unless he's Will Ferrell. For the record, though, you totally wear the shoes and hat way better than he did. So, why? Unless it's personal. I don't want to…" He paused, looking a little baffled. "You're not intruding." Gracen laughed again, softly and just for Jesse. "It's not a big story or anything, okay? I just really love Christmas, and I love taking pictures. Wearing the costume and being able to give all those families at least one good memory makes me happy. And like I said, if I'd known I was going to have a date, I would have brought other clothes. So that's me. Why are you wearing the pointy hat this year? Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a bright guy. You could probably work anywhere, so why there? In a costume?" Disney paid better and wasn't that far away, after all. Jesse's grin didn't grow any smaller, but somehow it seemed to dim anyway. Then those hazel eyes hardened just a little, and Jesse nodded once. "The truth? It's only three and a half weeks of my life and I need the money. Well, I will need it. Bills and stuff, y'know? And it's one of the few seasonal gigs I could find where the hours work with my other jobs. Most stores want you to be available for weird shifts but I can't afford to blow off my real jobs for something temporary." Jobs? As in more than one? "That makes sense," Gracen agreed, revising his mental estimate of Jesse's age back to twenty-five or so. "So what do you do when you're not prancing around in tights?" Someone Special - 33

"I could ask you the same thing." Jesse's grin was bright and cheerful again. It was a much better look on him. "In fact, I think I will. In a minute, not right now." He took a large swig of beer and Gracen took another sip of wine while Jesse talked about a grocery store and delivering papers on the second shift for the Orlando Sentinel. "I'm not sure how much longer the paper's going to keep me," Jesse said with a frown. "The internet's really cut into their business. They've been laying people off for over a year now, and they've already cut my hours. That's why the elf-gig. I guess I should be glad the paper's kept me on this long, but I'm already wondering when they'll be giving me the old heave-ho. Uh. Not that I'm a ho or anything." It wasn't really funny, but Gracen laughed anyway. Jesse was so far from the footloose kid he'd assumed, it was yet another thing that wasn't funny. Not to mention… Gracen did the math in his head and with Jesse working at the Santa booth six hours a day, then working at the grocery store, then delivering papers for another few hours… "My God, when do you sleep?" The words escaped before Gracen could stop them, but luckily Jesse didn't seem offended. Instead, those pretty eyes closed for just a second or two, then opened again. Gracen hadn't known what to look for before, but now that he did, Jesse's gaze looked a little bit weary. "Seven a.m. 'til eleven-thirty. I'm lucky Jazz has friends to run her to and from school. It would be even worse if I needed to take the bus every day." Dear Lord, that sounded rough. Gracen couldn't even imagine trying to get by on four and a half hours of sleep, not even for a few days, much less weeks. "Um, Jazz?" Obviously not a daughter if she was old enough to drive. Girlfriend, maybe? It could be. Jesse wouldn't Someone Special - 34

be the first gay man with a girlfriend to hide behind. Gracen hadn't gotten that sort of vibe from him, but he also knew himself well enough to distrust whatever lax version of gaydar he'd been gifted with. If this Jazz was Jesse's girlfriend, though, Gracen was going to be pissed. No, he didn't have any right to be angry or even jealous. Disappointed worked. Yeah, he would be disappointed. Jesse chuckled. "My kid sister, Jasmine. She's in prelaw at UCF." That was actually fairly impressive. University of Central Florida was a good school. Then Jesse leaned closer, his elbows resting on the bar, and Gracen forgot all about Jesse's sister. "Why? What did you think? Because you may not know this, but everything you're thinking? Shows on your face, Michael. It's kind of cute," Jesse whispered. Oh, for… Gracen groaned, then groaned again at Jesse using his Santa's Workshop name. He definitely liked Jesse so far, and the way Jesse kept looking at him left Gracen in little doubt that the attraction was mutual. Even if he was wrong about that part, though, how could he even be friends with Jesse unless he told him the truth? He couldn't. That was the plain and simple reality of the situation, and while being Michael Graven hadn't been a problem in previous years, Gracen had never struck up any real connection with his holiday coworkers. The mall's payroll department knew his real name, of course, but they also direct deposited his checks to his account, so none of them knew him by sight. This was different. There were about a thousand things Gracen could have said right then, and a hundred or so that he wanted to say. Only one of them made the final cut, though. Someone Special - 35

"Can you come back to my place?" Gracen asked, and it felt abrupt, even to him. "I mean, there's something I need to show you." Dear Lord, that was even worse. Still, he was nothing if not persistent. "I mean there's something I need to tell you and it'll work better with visual aids." Sadly, that wasn't any better, damn it. Fortunately, Jesse seemed to find it funny. "If it's some sort of book that explains about tab A going into slot B, I've probably already seen it," he said with a laugh. "But sure. Uh, I'll need to be home by early tomorrow morning, though. Jazz worries if I'm not home when she wakes up." Gracen sighed and shook his head. "I seriously wasn't propositioning you, but let's go, and… if you still want to stay over later, I'll make sure you're home in time to see your sister." *** Jesse had tried to argue when Michael paid for their drinks, but he couldn't deny being relieved that he hadn't succeeded. The fifty bucks in his pocket had to last him a week, after all, and once he thought about it, half of that was going to need to go into the gas tank of his old Honda, so it was just as well. Michael's car was newer than Jesse's by a good few years, and while it was a more expensive vehicle, its age made it less intimidating. It was comfortable to ride in, though, and had power everything, which wasn't something Jesse could claim about his own POS. Still, Jesse figured the Honda got the job done. It rarely had mechanical issues, got decent mileage, and it was paid for. That last was the best part. Someone Special - 36

Michael didn't have much to say on the drive from Chili's, but Jesse was fine with that. He had no problem with the driver actually driving. The radio -- not satellite, either, but the regular kind -- was entertaining enough. Jesse did find himself getting more and more tense as Michael steered them into what was a much higher-end neighborhood than Jesse had been expecting, but maybe they were just passing through. How likely was it that a part-time mall photographer would live in one of the shining, chrome-and-glass apartment buildings they were driving past? Then Michael pulled in at what was clearly the entrance to a private garage and Jesse's heart finished sinking down to somewhere around his toes. "Uh, Michael?" Michael looked over, eyebrows raised even as the driver's side window lowered, and Michael did something with a card of some kind that he grabbed from the console beneath the radio, and the intricate metal gate started to rise. "What's wrong?" he asked and Jesse honestly didn't know how to respond, there were so many things rushing around in his brain. He shook his head, unable to find the right words to say that he had no business being in a place like that with someone who could actually afford to live there. Hell, Jesse didn't even know why he felt that way. For all he knew, Michael had inherited the apartment, or maybe it was one of those studio types with just one room for everything. Michael might be living just as hand-to-mouth as Jesse and trying just as desperately to make ends meet so he could keep the apartment in the too-luxurious building. "Jesse?" Michael's voice drew him from his worries, and it was only then that Jesse realized they'd stopped. "Look, if you'd rather I just took you home--" Someone Special - 37

"No." He'd already known there was no hope of anything more than a fling with Michael. Even before seeing the building they were currently beneath, Jesse had known he wasn't good enough, though that didn't have anything to do with Michael's possible wealth. Money only made any sort of real relationship completely impossible, as opposed to most likely. He didn't want a relationship, anyway. He didn't. He must just be lonely, but a short-term hook-up would take care of that. "No," Jesse said again. "I want to be here." To prove it, he got out of the car and waited for Michael to show him where they were going. As it turned out, they were going to an elevator. Jesse felt a small thrill of hope when Michael didn't press the button for the top floor, but for the fifteenth. Halfway up and there wouldn't be much of a view, so that had to mean Michael wasn't super-rich, right? God, why was even tormenting himself? Fling, Jesse thought sternly. Just a fling. Maybe the sex would be horrible, anyway. Hell, he and Michael hadn't even kissed yet and he was getting all bent out of shape over the guy's building. Not even the apartment, but the building! That was a new one, even for Jesse. New enough and stupid enough that he had to laugh. "Sorry," he said to Michael's confused stare. "Sorry. My mind's kind of all over the place. I'm usually home and asleep by now, on Sundays." Unless he was at a club, but Jesse hadn't had the energy or the urge for that kind of thing in months. His own hand was just fine and he'd never had to buy it a drink. Michael's face lightened and a smile spread across his lips. "Okay. I thought you might be regretting coming here with me. Um, did you want to call someone? So Someone Special - 38

they know where you are and you don't start thinking I'm an axe-murderer or anything?" The elevator slowed, then stopped, and Jesse stepped out beside Michael. "I'm pretty sure you're not going to kill me, but maybe I'll call home in a little while. After you show me your etchings or whatever." The hallway seemed to go on forever before Michael finally stopped at the apartment numbered 15-J. "Come in," Michael said, unlocking and opening the door. "Did you want another beer? I have some Abita Amber. Or there's soda. Water. Whatever." "Sure," Jesse said. It was all he could say because as Michael turned on the lights, Michael's apartment robbed him of further speech. It definitely wasn't one room. There was a foyer, just like there was at Jesse's house, though Michael's was brighter and in better repair. The foyer led into a living area that actually looked lived-in, but not worn. There was a striped couch and a loveseat, both in muted purples and blues, and a brown chair with a pillow that matched the couch. The coffee table was wood and glass, as were the tables that sat at either end of the couch. There was a big rectangular rug, brown with a purple and blue border, and an entertainment center sat in the middle of the wall directly across from the lush sofa, though the doors were closed. Recessed lights in the ceiling shone around the edges of the room, but they didn't highlight the seating area; instead they were directed at the framed photographs that hung on the walls. Some were eightby-tens, some were eleven-by-fifteens, and some were even larger, poster-sized.

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It should have looked cluttered, but somehow it didn't. In fact, it looked more like a trophy display than anything else. "Um, which?" Michael sounded amused. Looked it, too, when Jesse dragged his eyes away from the living room. "Beer or soda of some kind or water?" Jesse blushed. "Sorry. Beer's fine. Thanks, Michael. Uh, can I look at the pictures?" Michael looked uncomfortable. Jesse wasn't sure about how he recognized that expression, but he did. Still, Michael nodded. "Sure. I'm just going to change out of this costume. I'll be back soon with that drink." "I'll be right here," Jesse answered, trying not to react to the idea of Michael getting naked just a few feet away. Maybe more than a few feet, because the apartment seemed to be pretty damned big judging by the living room, but whatever. "See you then." Jesse couldn't deny that his cock was more than halfway to hard when Michael turned and walked away. Luckily, Michael wasn't there to see it. That was probably a good thing, though, because Jesse really did want to take a look at the pictures on the walls. The photos on the wall closest to the foyer all seemed to be of Michael and his family. A younger Michael, sure, but definitely him. It seemed as though Michael had gotten his stunning hair from his father, who bore the same shade, while the green eyes had come from both sides. Michael's mother looked tiny in the pictures, compared to her husband who had towered over both her and Michael. Even in the pictures that seemed the most recent, Michael's dad looked to be at least six inches taller than his grown son, while Michael's mom topped out with her hair -- slightly poofed as it had been -- less than an inch above Michael's shoulder. Someone Special - 40

Jesse spent a moment or two wondering why there were no more recent pictures, but then he moved on. It took close to a minute for him to figure out what he was looking at, but then it resolved itself into a close-up shot of a black curve with something artistic behind it. The next was an equally close rendering of something orange-ish yellow against a blurred green background. Then a round, dark thing, sharp-edged, with indistinct varied grays. Jesse didn't get it, so he moved on. An electrical tower, shot from underneath while lightning was striking it. God, Jesse hoped whoever had taken the picture had survived. It looked unlikely, but hope was a good thing. Something that looked like a campfire, though from so close, Jesse thought he could feel the flames licking at his skin, which wasn't a good thought. It led to him thinking of other things licking him and the last thing he wanted to do was greet Michael with a raging boner. It might move things along, but Michael seemed to want to take his time. The next group of photos showed people Jesse could only assume were homeless. Young and old and in between. The old ones had faces that were seamed, dirty, hopeless yet wise. The young ones seemed scuffed, not as battered by time and circumstance yet. The ones in between straddled that line, wearing expressions that were so numb, so neutral, Jesse didn't quite know how to react. He was completely stunned by the sense of helpless yearning the photographer had managed to capture, even from the stoic ones and the hopeless ones. It wasn't overt, just a feeling. Jesse wasn't sure anyone else would have seen it, but he did. He felt that way all the time. Someone Special - 41

The pictures to the left of the entertainment center were entirely different. They showed a park, in various ways. Close-up or blurred or branched from the ground, Jesse knew it was a park. The ones on the right side were similar, happier. Tight shots of playground equipment, bright eyes, and the smiles of children with missing teeth. Then there were the pictures on the final wall. Christmas. All of them were Christmas. Trees and stockings and lights. Mistletoe, ornaments and tinsel. None of them were ordinary; each found some way of saying something specific about the holiday. They were the only group of photos Jesse wasn't surprised to see on Michael's walls. It was as he turned away from that wall that Jesse noticed the bookcase behind the purple and blue couch, and he couldn't resist the temptation to have a look. Maybe they liked some of the same authors. The top shelf was partly filled with coffee-table books of photography, but that made sense, just like the pictures on the walls did. Michael was a photographer, after all. Jesse focused first on the oversized paperbacks, seeing many of the authors he loved. Michael definitely wasn't in the closet if he had those books sitting out. Of course, Jesse hadn't really thought Michael was hiding, not once Michael had accepted his invitation for drinks and been so fine with staying in the elf costume. Nothing said gay better than tights and little shorts in public. Jesse finally pulled one of the photo books out of the bookcase and started flipping through it. Some of the pictures looked familiar, as in very similar to the ones on Michael's walls. Had Michael decided to emulate an idol? Then Jesse looked more closely at the books still Someone Special - 42

on the shelf and noticed that six of them were by the same photographer. He was flipping through the book he held faster, looking for any sort of sign that what he was suddenly suspecting was true, but found nothing until he reached the last page. A successful photographer with an unusual view of the world, Gracen Michaels lives in Orlando, Florida, where he finds inspiration and meaning in the smallest of things. It still wasn't definitive because there was no picture of the photographer, but Orlando? Gracen Michaels and Michael Graven? Please. Jesse might not have been to college, but he wasn't stupid. He could add two and two and get Michael is a big fat liar without even needing to use a formula. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but at least it was everyone at work who Michael -- Gracen - was lying to, not just Jesse. He set the first book down on top of the bookcase and selected another, flipping through it and noticing, again, that the pictures were similar but not identical to the ones he'd already seen. "Sorry, I started to change and realized I needed a shower." Michael -- Gracen -- really did sound apologetic. He looked it, too, when Jesse closed the book and turned. Even hotter in sweat pants and a tight t-shirt than in the elf costume, but definitely apologetic. "Um, I see you found my books." It almost sounded like a question so Jesse nodded. "I did. Did you know your pictures in this room look sort of like the ones in the book?" If Gracen lied, Jesse was so out of there. Gracen sighed and looked a little sheepish, holding a beer out to Jesse, and it was only then that Jesse realized Someone Special - 43

the man was holding drinks. The beer wasn't opened yet, which Jesse chalked up to Gracen's worries that Jesse might think he was a serial killer or date-rapist or something. As if. "Yeah, about that," Gracen said, opening the Abita Amber bottle once Jesse reached for it. "That's kind of what I was talking about when I said I wanted to do show and tell. See, I really like you." Gracen looked uncomfortable. "I mean, I thought I would, but I do. And it made me feel really guilty when you were calling me 'Michael' before. It's not because I was trying to trick you or anything, okay? It's just…" Graven sighed, and Jesse found himself surprised by the man's obvious sincerity, and his own ease at adjusting from thinking of him as Michael to thinking of him as Gracen. Gracen just suited him better, in a way Jesse couldn't explain. "I lied about my name." Gracen frowned a bit. "Not because I want to be someone else, but I did this Disney series a while back, so some people in town still know my name. If any of them heard that Gracen Michaels was doing Santa-and-kid pictures, it would be insane at the mall. So my agent helped me set up this Michael Graven persona. Alonzo's got some kind of legal connections that I don't understand. It's pure paper and I don't get paid under that name, but Graven Images really exists. The rest of the year, I have other people who do pictures for schools and stuff, but Christmas is mine. Michael Graven is more of a business entity than anything else. Um, I'm sorry, though. I just couldn't let you go on thinking I'm someone I'm not." Well, Gracen got points for being up front about it, Jesse decided. He still wasn't entirely sure that there hadn't been some other show and tell plan in place, but considering that Gracen hadn't gone to any effort to keep Someone Special - 44

Jesse from taking a look around, Jesse was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt. "I have one question," Jesse said. Gracen arched his brows and Jesse laughed. "Okay, maybe two. First is… how did you take a shower and not even let your hair out of that ponytail? I've been wondering what it looks like down, and you showered without even giving me that satisfaction. And second…" Jesse frowned and set his full beer down atop the bookcase before moving over to the weird-ass pictures with the fuzzy backgrounds. "What the hell are these supposed to be?" Gracen laughed, loud and long. "To answer your second question first, they're from Disney World. See, the first one is the edge of Mickey's ear in front of Sleeping beauty's castle…" Donald's beak with a shrub behind it. And Goofy's nose against pavement, after the person who wore the costume had shucked the head during a break. "You'll never see a book with those," Gracen admitted, smiling. "They were just for me. Sort of something experimental I did for fun while I was shooting the Disney series, but I still like them. They remind me that being pretentious and 'artistic' doesn't mean the same thing as being good." Jesse nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure he agreed about the Disney photos being pretentious. He actually liked them a lot, knowing what they were. "And the first question?" God, he would pay to see Gracen's hair down. Gracen didn't really answer with words. He just reached up and pulled the ponytail holder from his hair, letting the loose hair he generally hid under his elf-hat fall free.

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It was longer than Jesse had thought, trailing a good four inches past Gracen's shoulders. His fingers already itched to feel those strands wrapped around them. "Oh," Jesse said, his hands rising slowly, moving toward the flow of red. "Good answer, Gracen. Very good answer."

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Chapter Four It was heat Gracen felt. Heat and want and maybe just a little bit of need. No guilt, because he'd already told Jesse the truth. Jesse had accepted Gracen's apology easily enough, too. Accepted it and apparently forgiven the need for it, because why else would Jesse be standing so close, his fingers sliding through Gracen's hair? "I knew it would be this soft," Jesse murmured, moving closer still, and it was either the warmth radiating from Jesse's body or sheer proximity that had Gracen hardening again. Again because he'd needed the shower for more reasons than a long day. "Even when it was all twisted up on your head, I knew your hair would feel amazing." Gracen exhaled a shaky laugh. "I had no idea I'd like your hands in it so much." He might be slightly vain about his hair, but he'd never much cared for having lovers play with it. Not that he and Jesse were lovers, because they barely really knew each other, but whatever. For some reason, Jesse's hands in his hair felt good to Gracen. Better than good. Jesse's lips twitched into something that looked like a smirk. "I can hardly wait to find out what else you'll like my hands doing, but for now, let's start with this." Then Jesse leaned closer still and Gracen's eyes closed even as Jesse's lips touched his. A small sound that Gracen refused to call a moan left his own mouth, and maybe that was what Jesse had been waiting for because that soft, barely-there brush of lips on lips became more intense. Deeper and a touch Someone Special - 47

rougher. When Gracen felt Jesse's tongue pry lightly at his mouth, he opened, welcoming the slick, heated invader and matching Jesse's motions happily. There was just something about kissing that Gracen loved. He wasn't sure whether it was the intimacy of it or the way it called to mind other, more naked, activities. Maybe it was simply because kissing was as close as any two people could get while still clothed. No matter the reason, Gracen loved kissing. When the kiss involved someone who gave it their all the way Jesse was doing, though, Gracen truly lost his head. His hands closed on Jesse's jeans-clad hips, pulling the man tightly against him, groin to groin. Gracen couldn't avoid noticing that Jesse was just as hard in those jeans as Gracen was his sweat pants. The long, firm ridge pressing against his own less-restrained cock had him feeding a much larger moan that he couldn't deny into Jesse's mouth. It would be so easy to keep going. God, he definitely wanted to. Wanted to stay right there in the living room, his mouth welded to Jesse's, bodies grinding, until they either fell down or came from the friction and newness of it all. Hell, he wanted to drop down, pull Jesse's cock from behind denim, and show off some of the tricks he'd picked up over the last fifteen years of cock sucking. Gracen wanted to, but he didn't. The kiss went on for a while longer -- it could have been minutes or even just seconds. Gracen wasn't watching the clock. Time didn't matter, except it sort of did. If they kept at it much longer, coming in his sweats wasn't going to be an option, but a certainty. Judging from the way Jesse's hands were so deep in his hair, fingers cupping the back of Gracen's skull, Jesse was getting close to that point, too. It took a force of will Someone Special - 48

Gracen hadn't even known he possessed to pull away from Jesse's mouth, and even at that, Gracen nearly gave in when Jesse tried to follow him, lips soft and slightly damp, just swollen enough to be begging more kisses. "Wait," Gracen said, though it came out more as a plea. "Jesse, wait. Not here." His hands remained on Jesse's hips, but Gracen managed to ease his hold a little. He thought he might have bruised Jesse -- even through the jeans -- but he couldn't be sure. More to the point, Gracen wasn't entirely certain that he cared if he had. Jesse hadn't complained, and that was what mattered. It took a moment for Jesse's eyes to open, the usual warm hazel stunningly hot right then but looking a little fuzzy, then Jesse slowly released Gracen's hair. Gracen waited until it seemed like Jesse would not only hear him, but be able to make sense of his words before continuing. "I want to take you to bed." Gracen breath was still coming heavily, so it took a few seconds for him to get the words out. "I want to find out if you fuck like you kiss. Can we do that?" Oh, that wasn't too dorky, was it? Then again, nothing said dork like a nearly thirty-twoyear-old man who deliberately chose to wear an elf costume for close to a month every year, so screw it. Gracen just needed to be sure he wasn't rushing Jesse into anything. Those pretty eyes rolled and Jesse tossed his head, messy brown hair flying for just a second or so. "Dude. Which part of 'take me to see your etchings' -- or pictures, I guess -- 'but make sure I'm home before my little sister wakes up tomorrow' made you think I have a problem with us getting naked and groinal? Or was it the part where I tried to lick your tonsils, because yeah. That was one hell of a mixed message." Someone Special - 49

Gracen laughed, both at hearing Jesse say dude and at his own conviction that Jesse might actually want to leave. He was still glad he'd asked, but that didn't mean he felt like anything but an idiot. Then the way Jesse was looking at him registered because there was still all that heat and wanton desire showing on Jesse's face, and Gracen shoved aside everything but how much he was enjoying spending time with the other elf… and how much more he was going to enjoy it in just a few minutes. "My bedroom is down the hall," he said simply, taking Jesse's hand. "I can't wait to find out what other kinds of 'mixed messages' you can send me." Jesse chuckled and the sound seemed to go straight to Gracen's groin. "I'll give you a hint," Jesse replied easily, his tone only adding to Gracen's impatience. "If I tell you I want it harder or faster, it doesn't mean stop. I'm not big on kink, but I've read some of the books you have, so I should probably tell you, my safe word is 'Filthy Pierre.' I'm pretty sure I won't need to use it." Gracen looked at Jesse and shook his head at the teasing. "I only have a few of those, and I read it, I don't live it. Besides, I don't think anyone even knows what a Filthy Pierre really is." He gave Jesse's hand a squeeze and started for the hallway that bypassed the kitchen and the spare bedroom that acted as Gracen's work room for his personal pictures, not his Graven Images business, which had a studio downtown. The work room had been a darkroom at one time, but Gracen rarely bothered with old fashioned film anymore. Digital was simpler and just as effective. He wondered briefly whether Jesse would be willing to pose for him sometime, then filed the thought for later. Someone Special - 50

The only pictures Gracen wanted to take at the moment were purely mental snapshots. Even if Jesse were camera-shy, he wouldn't be able to object to that. Gracen was sure he'd be taking mental video, as well, because there was no way he wanted to forget a single moment of Jesse in his bed for the first time. *** Some guys were rude in bed. Jesse knew that. Hell, he'd probably slept with more than his fair share of assholes who cared more about their own orgasms than they did about being good for whoever they were with. Some men didn't give enough of a shit to offer a helping hand once they'd gotten their own rocks off, some thought they deserved to be waited on hand and foot just because they'd decided to bless a guy with their dicks, and some -- the worst ones of all -- pretended to feel things they didn't for whoever they were with. Jesse's ex, Brady, had been all of those guys, rolled into one. Gracen seemed to be none of them. Okay, Gracen had come first, but he hadn't just pulled away and rolled over. Gracen had shuddered for a number of seconds while filling the condom inside Jesse, then carefully withdrawn and rolled a second condom over Jesse's rampant cock before swallowing it down and performing some sort of oral acrobatics that had Jesse's head reeling even in memory. Gracen had kissed him again, too. Less heatedly than before the sex, but just as deeply, as though Jesse was someone special. If that wasn't enough, and as far as Jesse was concerned, it was more than enough, Gracen had cleaned them both up with a corner of the sheet, gotten Someone Special - 51

rid of the used condoms, and was even then rummaging around in the kitchen, looking for something they could snack on. It was weird and freaky, or else Jesse had been meeting the wrong guys all his life, because Gracen seemed to be decent and nice. More than that, Gracen might be kind, and that made it even more important that Jesse not get too attached. Decent and rich and kind? So not in the cards for him. He would enjoy it while it lasted, Jesse decided, but he wasn't about to let himself think it would last long. He was a glutton for Gracen, not punishment. He stretched slowly, enjoying the softness of Gracen's sheets. They were probably some crazy threadcount and foreign, but Jesse wasn't letting himself think about that. The sheets were smooth and soft, even after he and Gracen had rumpled them, and the color was nice. Luxuriating in the medium blue cotton had Jesse feeling like he was floating on a motionless ocean that existed for no other reason than to support every part of his body that touched it, because yeah, Gracen's bed was that comfortable. Worlds away better than the lumpy mattress Jesse had been using for at least ten years. "Tell me you haven't fainted from hunger!" Gracen sounded teasing, but much to Jesse's mortification, his stomach chose that moment to rumble. He sat up, hoping the new position would quell it. "Well, at least part of you is awake," Gracen added with a laugh. Jesse wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when Gracen had suggested snacking, but the tray Gracen set down on the end of the bed wasn't it. Maybe in Gracen's world freshly cut fruit, toast, yogurt, assorted nuts, and something wrapped in tortillas counted as a snack. In Jesse's world, it was breakfast and at least half of lunch, Someone Special - 52

as well, assuming he was eating something other than ramen. Add in the Sprite that was on the tray, and Jesse was stunned. Stunned and hungry, yes, but still stunned. "Uh…" Gracen's already slightly pink skin turned a deeper shade that bordered on red. "I might have overdone it a little," he said as he sat down carefully beside Jesse. "I just. It's hard for me, okay?" Jesse nodded like he understood, but he didn't. How could anything possibly be hard for Gracen? The man had a huge apartment, books with his name on them, a business that did school pictures, for fuck's sake, and Gracen was so damned hot. Hell, Gracen got better looking the more time Jesse spent with him. The man still wasn't all cut and overly toned. Naked, Gracen looked pretty much exactly the way Jesse had already expected -- average, really, right down to the cock Gracen had above-average skills with -- but Gracen was hot. "I didn't know what you'd like," Gracen elaborated. "I've only seen you eat PB&J on break at work and we didn't get food at Chili's, so…" he shrugged and it looked sheepish to Jesse. "I sort of grabbed a little of everything. Whatever I could find that didn't require cooking." God, that was sweet. Jesse felt like a teenaged girl even thinking it, but there was no other word. It was sweet. Nice. Considerate. Kind, damn it. So maybe there were other words, but for whatever reason, Jesse preferred to think of it as sweet. He wasn't about to say so, though. "So you're not perfect, after all," he said instead. "You can't cook." Someone Special - 53

Gracen laughed. "Hey! I open a mean can of soup. Or stew. And I make the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever. I almost went for that but I wasn't sure whether you had any food allergies, so I figured a bunch of different things would be better. Um, if you want something else, I can give it a shot, I guess…" Jesse snorted, already reaching out to pull the tray closer. "Please. I'm a total omnivore. This works." He selected a triangle of toast and grabbed a handful of cashews. "Tell me about this 'best grilled cheese ever,' though. Because I do love a good grilled cheese." Fortunately, that seemed to set Gracen at ease because the man started talking about bread and olives, tomatoes and various cheeses, like they were the second coming. Jesse couldn't deny that there was something infectious about Gracen's enthusiasm. Even though some of the cashews, two pieces of toast and a few spears of pineapple had him feeling full, Jesse wanted one of the sandwiches Gracen was describing. Gracen had eaten, too. Fruit and nuts and one of the tortilla things. It smelled sweet when Gracen bit into it, but Jesse doubted he could have eaten anything more and still been able to move for the second round of sex he was hoping for. He relaxed on the bed again while Gracen took the tray back to the kitchen, though the two Sprites remained on the bedside table. "So how did you get to be such an expert on grilled cheeses?" he asked when Gracen came back and crawled into the bed beside him. "It sounds like you're a chef when you talk about them, but you said all that about canned food, so I guess I don't get it." He was honestly curious. Gracen had been so specific about real butter and specific types of bread for different cheeses. It just seemed bizarre that the man could know that much Someone Special - 54

about one specific thing but be unable to do more than boil water, otherwise. Gracen shifted and levered up onto one elbow, and while Jesse didn't know Gracen well except in the biblical sense, Gracen looked sad to him. Then Gracen's free hand moved, resting lightly on Jesse's stomach, and Gracen sighed softly. Yeah, he sounded sad, too. "My dad couldn't cook," Gracen said slowly. "You know all those clichés about the man being the King of the Grill? My dad wasn't. Every time we had people over for a barbeque or whatever, my whole life, Mom was the one outside grilling and chilling. The one thing Dad could do, though, was grilled cheese." Gracen chuckled. "He raised it to an art form, trying all sorts of breads and cheeses and additions, and he passed all that on to me. So I can't cook in general, but I make a kickass grilled cheese. Or maybe ten different kick-ass grilled cheeses." For some reason, Jesse wanted to hug Gracen tight right then. He didn't do it, but he wanted to. Instead of that tight clinch, he raised his own hand and placed it over the hand Gracen had on his stomach. The Jesse squeezed that hand. He felt it in his groin, the way their fingers tangled and grasped tightly. Jesse didn't say so, but he definitely felt it in his groin. "So what happened, Gracen?" he asked. "Because you keep saying was and were and did, but there's no is and are and do." God, was it possible that Gracen had a past as fucked-up as Jesse's own? He didn't dare hope. Good thing, too, because Gracen's next words would have killed that hope dead. "Nothing so unusual," Gracen said, sinking lower on his elbow. Jesse was relieved that Gracen didn't try to separate their hands. "They went to visit some friends of Someone Special - 55

theirs up in Canada. Dad hated connecting flights and layovers, so he talked his boss into letting him make a business call near where he and Mom wanted to go, so they could just rent a car and drive a couple hours. They flew out on one of the corporate planes. It went down." Gracen's eyes closed. "It turned out that Dad's employers hadn't had the plane serviced as often as their paperwork said, so I ended up with money, but no parents… and a bunch of grilled cheese recipes to remember them by." That probably explained the amazing apartment, Jesse realized. It also explained why he'd felt so drawn to Gracen, maybe. Jesse didn't have anyone but Jazz. Gracen didn't even have that -- no sibling, no family, and it sounded like even the friends Gracen's parents had been going to visit weren't a presence in Gracen's life. Maybe loneliness called to loneliness. Maybe. Jesse wasn't counting on it, though. Even if Gracen hadn't had money before the untimely demise of his parents, he was definitely from a good family. A family where things like those that had happened in Jesse's family were unthinkable. That didn't mean Jesse wouldn't try to provide whatever comfort he could. Without going into too much detail, of course. "It's just me and Jazz, too," he said quietly, snaking his free arm up to cross Gracen's chest and curling his hand around the nape of the man's neck. That long, red hair tempted him, but he kept his fingers where they were. "Our folks have been gone for almost six years. We still have the house, and that's why I work so much. Jazz can't. She needs to focus on school. But we can't lose the house, y'know?" Gracen smiled, a bit sadly, though that was likely left over from talking about his parents, but he nodded. "She's your grilled cheese," he said and Jesse didn't have Someone Special - 56

any idea about what the fuck that was supposed to mean. "She's the one thing your folks left behind for you," Gracen elaborated. "The one thing that makes it bearable that everything could change so much, in just one instant. She's your… memory." That was true to a certain extent, so Jesse nodded. "As long as Jazz makes it and becomes everything she wants to be, I've done my job. And God, this is a depressing conversation, even though I started it by asking about your parents. Can we turn that whole topic off and talk about having more sex? Preferably in the next few minutes?" Jesse grinned as salaciously as possible, considering his own mood. "I mean I'd like us to be having sex again in the next few minutes, not that I want us to keep talking about depressing shit until then. In case that wasn't clear." A laugh answered him, and Jesse was anything but upset to find himself pinned to the bed less than a second later. Gracen's eyes were wide and brightly green, staring into his own, but there was enough reawakened desire in that gaze to have Jesse shivering happily on the inside. "Tell me one more thing about you," Gracen murmured. "Something specific." Jesse frowned slightly, but he couldn't work up a real head of steam. Not when Gracen was so fully on him, heavy in just the right way. "Like what?" he demanded and Gracen's lips curved, just at the edges. "Like… do you only bottom, Jesse? Because I already love your ass, but if you switch at all, I'd really love to feel that pretty cock of yours splitting me wide." Jesse groaned but he somehow managed to collect himself enough to roll both himself and Gracen. They didn't fall off the side of the bed, but it was a close thing. Someone Special - 57

"I like getting fucked," Jesse murmured, his lips less than an inch from Gracen's. "It feels good and most guys figure I'm not into doing the fucking." "But you are," Gracen muttered, his voice almost a whisper, and Jesse nodded. "I am." It wasn't something he did often, but with Gracen? Oh, Jesse would fuck Gracen just as often as Gracen let him. For the rest of their… however long their fling lasted. It would be long enough. It would have to be.

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Chapter Five The more Gracen learned about Jesse, the more convinced he became that Jesse was selling himself short. Sure, Jesse was doing what he needed to do by working a ridiculous number of jobs and hours, and that was admirable, but Gracen didn't understand why the guy hadn't aimed higher. Jesse was more than smart enough for any number of jobs that would likely pay better than a grocery store and paper delivery. Hell, Gracen knew exactly what the elves made for working at Santa's Workshop, and Jesse was better than that. Gracen did love watching Jesse bounce around in the tights and such, though. It almost never gave him inappropriate boners anymore, either. Only when Jesse ended up bending over for something, really, which didn't happen in Gracen's line of sight more than once or twice a day. Jesse was a very good elf. One of the best, and Gracen would know, after four years. He was sure Jesse was just as good at his other jobs, too, because Jesse seemed to throw himself, full-force, into whatever he was doing, and Gracen doubted that work ethic only applied to jobs involving curly-toed shoes and jaunty little caps. Still, the question remained: If Jesse was so capable and willing to work hard, why wasn't he doing something that might let him have only one job? Preferably a job Jesse liked that would offer at least the chance of advancement. It wasn't a subject Gracen was willing to bring up, or not yet anyway. He and Jesse had only been dating, if that's what it was, for less than a week, and in that time, Someone Special - 59

Gracen hadn't seen Jesse at all outside of the mall, aside from that Sunday night and early Monday morning. He hadn't expected to, considering Jesse's schedule, but it was Thursday and Gracen was starting to feel neglected, which was just odd. He'd never been the clingy sort, never needed constant attention from the men he'd been involved with -- something he'd been told was one of his problems by a few of those same men -- but he was definitely starting to wonder whether Jesse even cared about him at all. Jesse hadn't even called him by name since their night together. In fact, Jesse didn't call him anything, just elf, or sometimes -- when they were on break with everyone else -- dude or man. "Frowning photo-elf is gonna scare the children." The voice was teasing, but it definitely pulled Gracen from his thoughts. "If you do scare the kiddies, we're going to need way more candy cane therapy, and that glowing nose might end up super-glued to your face." Jesse grinned. Gracen smiled in return, even with the lingering concern he'd already started pushing to the back of his mind. "Well, we can't have that," he agreed. "Crying kids don't make for happy Christmas memories, do they?" He thought he'd covered well enough, but apparently not, because Jesse was looking at him funny. "Are you okay?" The question only proved that Jesse was just as observant as Gracen had feared. "You look kind of… I don't know. Weird." Gracen laughed. It sounded normal enough, thank God. "The grown man in the elf costume looks 'weird'? Really? Now pull the other one." He smiled again. "I'm fine, Jesse. I'm just ready for my break, is all. I didn't sleep well last night, what with Alonzo calling me over and over again. He's trying to fast-track my Autumnal Someone Special - 60

Celebration showing, God knows why. You know, we could have lunch in my car, if you want to. I could tell you all about it then." He'd only just thought of that, but Gracen really hoped Jesse would say yes. They'd spent their breaks in the Santa Hut with the other elves and Bernard for the last few days, just like all the days before their night together, which wasn't conducive to having real conversations and, while they weren't supposed to wander around the mall for that time, there wasn't any rule in place that said they needed to stay inside the mall. Maybe they could talk about something real, and if Gracen pried a little, well, better to do it in private than at Santa's Workshop. Jesse's grin returned. "Cool. After three days, I could really use a little alone-time with you, Mister Elf. I'll even go halfsies with you, if you want to try my culinary masterpiece. I have cashew butter and blackberry jam on honey wheat bread, but don't be intimidated by the sheer class or anything. Now, keep smiling and get back to taking pictures." Gracen laughed again, this time sincerely, and got back to it. His amusement was likely because Jesse had given him an order as though Jesse were in charge… or else it was due to the way Jesse spoke of the sandwich. Jesse always had some version of PB&J. Of course, that made sense. Relatively affordable, no need for constant refrigeration, and still tasty. There were worse things. Gracen wasn't sure any sort of nut-butter and jelly would combine well with the roast beef and muenster cheese on rye he'd brought in his little insulated lunch pack, but whatever. There was about zero chance that he was going to refuse to share whatever Jesse wanted to share Someone Special - 61

with him, and the two twenty-ounce sodas he'd brought should be enough to cleanse their palates, anyway. "Smile for Santa," Gracen called out to the little girl who'd just been lifted onto Bernard's lap. "Santa loves happy little girls and boys, right Santa?" Bernard loosed a loud, rolling chuckle that sounded exactly like a Santa Claus from just about any old movie. "Indeed, I do! Happy children are almost always on my 'nice' list! How about you, little miss…" He leaned down and let the little brunette girl whisper in his ear. "Little miss Kaylee! Have you been a good girl this year?" She whispered again and Bernard contorted his face in enough ways that the closest children waiting started to giggle. There was little doubt about what Kaylee was saying, of course. No child ever admitted to being naughty when they were on Santa's lap. Also, she was nodding repeatedly, which was really more adorable than anything else. Gracen snapped his picture once Bernard and little Kaylee looked into the camera, then it was on to the next. And the next. And the next and the next and the next. By the time the head elf -- meaning Arma, who'd worked Santa's Workshop since before Gracen had started doing the photos and who manned the mall's information booth the rest of the year -- announced that Santa needed to feed the reindeer and would be back in thirty minutes, Gracen was more than ready to spend a little down time. He loved Christmas, but there was only so much smiling he could do before he felt like his face might crack. He still waited while Arma handed out numbered tickets to the parents and kids still in line, so they could go off and get their own lunches or whatever and not have to start waiting all over again, then he offered her a Someone Special - 62

sympathetic smile when she muttered "I always forget what a madhouse it is, between one year and the next. See you in the Hut?" Gracen shook his head and pulled his camera from inside the stand. "I'm going to eat outside. In my car, I mean. I need to see some blue sky for a change, but I'll be back on time." Arma laughed and waved her hand in some sort of gesture Gracen couldn't decipher, even after four years. He was always distracted by her long nails and the painted Christmas trees -- complete with shiny ornaments -- that decorated each one. "Honey, if you need an extra five, take it. You've been moody all day. Maybe some fresh air and sunshine are just what you need. Besides, you know it'll take at least that long to straighten out the people who were here before break and the people who think they can just waltz right up because we're on break and there's no visible line. Hell, take an extra ten, if that'll help. You can't take pictures until I get the line sorted out. Now, go. Enjoy the great outdoors." "You know, Arma? You have the most amazing smile. I always forget about your smile. Huh." Actually, that was true. Arma's smile was stellar. The way her lips were shaped and the way they spread across her teeth, glossy plum-red surrounding luminous white. Every year, Gracen thought he should do a series of photos that highlighted amazing features of people he ran into. Arma's smile would be one, without a doubt. Actually, he hadn't done a collection involving people in years. Not since his homeless series, and that had been, what? Six years earlier? Something like that. It hadn't sold well, in any case, but it was what had led to him doing volunteer work. Sometimes experiences Someone Special - 63

were worthwhile in ways that didn't involve money, and that collection had been one of them. He almost screwed up his cover -- if a photographer could be said to be working undercover -- but stopped himself from asking if he could take a few shots of Arma's smile at the last moment. If he did decide to do a series like that, he would speak with her about being one of his models, but if not… well, no reason to out himself, so to speak. "I'll be back on time," he repeated, seeing Jesse coming from the Hut with Gracen's insulated bag and a plastic grocery sack that held Jesse's lunch. Jesse always carried his lunch in a grocery sack, probably because they were free, Gracen figured. "See you then." He didn't really know whether Arma said anything else or not. Gracen was too busy anticipating a half hour spent in the dubious privacy of his car, with Jesse. The windows weren't tinted, meaning anybody walking by Gracen's Audi would definitely be able to see inside, so there would be absolutely no kissing. Of course, Gracen was planning to tread on Jesse's toes a little by asking about Jesse's jobs, so maybe there wouldn't have been any kissing anyway. All Gracen knew for sure was that Jesse was far too smart and capable to be working the jobs the guy currently had. There was a good chance that Jesse knew it, too, and preferred night shifts and early morning paper delivery, in which case Jesse would likely get upset with Gracen for even asking, but Gracen had to try; had to at least ask. During their break, when they still had the rest of the day to get through, wasn't the time Gracen would have chosen, but he didn't have a whole lot of options, did he? It was either then or wait until Sunday night when he Someone Special - 64

thought -- hoped -- he and Jesse would be able to spend the night together again. Maybe that should be his first question, Gracen realized then. He'd been operating under the impression that he and Jesse would be seeing each other again on Sunday, after their elf-work, but Jesse had never come out and said so. It might be better to get that figured out before he went possibly attacking Jesse's choices. It had nothing to do with wanting to push the uncomfortable topic away. Not at all. *** Sitting in Gracen's car helped remind Jesse that while Gracen was smart and hot and rich, Gracen wasn't so rich that he had a brand new car. It was bizarre how much that helped, but there it was. No, there it wasn't, Jesse reminded himself forcefully. What he and Gracen were doing was a fling, nothing more. And Gracen was kind. Kind and Jesse had never worked out well. Kind always lost interest when Jesse's responsibilities took precedence over kind. Kind was something to enjoy while it lasted, because it eventually turned into resentment, and that was when Jesse knew it was time to bail, or at least that's what he recalled from the one and only time someone had been kind with him. That had been five and a half years earlier, though. Jesse seriously doubted that kind had changed much since. He was more comfortable with selfish, anyway. Like Jennings and Frank and Billiam -- who the fuck named their kid Billiam, anyway? -- and most recently, Brady. Selfish bastards who made no bones about the fact that they were looking for someone to fuck who wouldn't demand anything of them. Selfish fucks who decided Someone Special - 65

they deserved more than they ever gave and dumped Jesse because he wasn't as into their so-called relationships as the bastards pretended to be themselves. Jesse knew what that meant, though. It meant they really did want him to demand things from them so they could feel in charge when they denied him whatever it might be. When faced with exactly what they said they wanted, the assholes lost the power they craved so deeply. It was fucking textbook, according to Jazz's first and only Psychology… textbook. Jesse was pretty sure Jazz didn't know he'd read it, along with the rest of her school books, but he had. Interesting reading, though he disagreed with the way that book would have diagnosed him. He did not have abandonment issues, and he definitely didn't hate himself. He only hated what he was afraid he might become, but that was irrelevant at the moment. He was having lunch with Gracen, in Gracen's car, and it was beyond nice. The air conditioning was on full-blast, combining with the heat coming in through the open windows to create the perfect blend. He had half of his own sandwich and half of a roast beef on rye with spicy mustard and mayonnaise. The roast beef half was easily three times the size of his own paltry offering, but Gracen didn't seem to mind… and Gracen had brought a soda for Jesse that was still cold enough for the orange flavoring to seem tart. It wasn't any brand Jesse had seen before and he usually didn't go farther into fruitville than Sprite, but whatever it was, it was good. It didn't have a label, but that was probably a good thing. Jesse was pretty sure he couldn't have afforded it, anyway. "How's lunch?" Gracen asked, and Jesse tried to answer around the mouthful of beef, cheese and rye Someone Special - 66

bread, but only managed a muffled rumble that had Gracen laughing. "I'll take that as a sign that it's acceptable. By the way, the whole cashew butter thing? I have to say it sounded a little strange, right at first, but it's much less cloying than peanut butter. It's a little bit spicy?" Jesse finished chewing, then washed his last bite down with a bit of the really good soda. "Sorry," he said, feeling a little sheepish. "I didn't expect to share so I might have laced it with a little Sriracha. Um, it's this Asian hot sauce that goes really well with nut butters. They use it in satay peanut sauces and stuff." Gracen laughed. "Don't be sorry. I love spicy things. And it's not overwhelming or anything, okay? I just couldn't figure out why it was spicy. Um, speaking of hot… we didn't really get around to saying so, but I was hoping you want to spend Sunday night again? I mean, unless you have to work after elf-ing this week. I figured we could go have a late dinner, maybe catch a movie… and if you wanted to stay at my place again, that would be cool. Or hot. You know." Oh, Jesse knew. Thinking about spending Sunday night with Gracen had been one of the few things that had gotten him through the week, thus far. He couldn't claim that Gracen wasn't right, though. They really hadn't mentioned the Sunday coming. There was something comforting about the fact that Gracen wanted to repeat the experience too, and Jesse didn't even want to deny it. It had him feeling… excited, damn it. Even through the constant exhaustion, Jesse was excited. That didn't mean he was going to just accept whatever plan Gracen had.

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"Dinner sounds good," Jesse agreed easily, "but there's nothing playing right now that I want to see. How about we hit an arcade or something?" Gracen's brows rose, which looked oddly hot under the rim of the elf hat. "If you can find one that's open late on Sunday night, I'm in. I know one that stays open until eleven, but I'm not sure if that's Sundays, too. Um, we could do something else, though. Whatever you want." It was only because Gracen looked so sincere that Jesse eased up. "Maybe we could hit Rainbow Connection or something. Do some dancing. I'm pretty sure you can dance, seeing as I know how you fuck." God, the way Gracen blushed was just too endearing. Except Gracen was a fling and flings weren't endearing, damn it. "Then again, maybe not." "Hey." Gracen smiled at him, even with the blush still bright. "If you want to go there and dance, I'm game. I don't usually go to bars anymore -- too much chance of running into people I don't much care to see -but we can dance. You'll need to promise me that you'll protect me from any Maniac Marys on the make, though." Jesse laughed. He couldn't help it. "Maybe we'll do that someday," he said, "but not Sunday. I'm really starting to think that dinner and back to your place might be good. I can't swear to how much energy I'll have left by then." He was teasing when he said it, but less than a moment later Jesse realized it was true. He was burning the candle at both ends and in the middle, between his three jobs. By Sunday, he'd be worn out enough that dinner and sex would do him in; especially the energetic, intense kind of sex he remembered from a few nights earlier. Someone Special - 68

"It'll be enough," Gracen said, taking another huge bite of the cashew butter and jam sandwich. Jesse grinned at how much Gracen obviously liked it. "Your energy," Gracen added, clearly thinking Jesse needed elaboration. "However much energy you have left, will be enough." "I hope so. Anyway, in case you were wondering? When I don't call you by name inside, it's just because I don't want to slip up and call you Gracen." Fuck if Jesse knew why he was saying that, but it was true. For some reason, he didn't want Gracen thinking there was any other reason, like Jesse didn't want to know him. Which might explain why Gracen had asked about Sunday, Jesse decided. If someone he'd spent hours in bed with all of a sudden wasn't calling him by name, Jesse knew he would have wondered. "Now that I know you're Gracen, I have a really hard time thinking of you as Michael. Sorry." Jesse took a bite of his roast beef sandwich. Not as big as the one Gracen had taken of his, but still. It was a damned good sandwich. Thick enough that Jesse thought he might be able to skip dinner, which was usually something from the food court at best; the dollar menu drive-thru at worst. Gracen paused with the last bite of Jesse's cashew butter and jam sandwich a few inches from his lips. "I'm glad you said that." Jesse was, too, considering the smile that spread across Gracen's face. "So we're on for Sunday?" Jesse assisted the meat and cheese with the orange soda again, swallowing quickly. "If I say 'duh,' will I sound like I'm sixteen?" He arched a brow back at Gracen. Someone Special - 69

"Considering what I know about you?" Gracen's smile was simple and sincere, as far as Jesse could tell. "No. I think it'd be good if you had the chance to act like a kid, so 'duh' away. Would it be totally bad for me to say that I really want to kiss you right now, even though I know I can't? Because I do, Jesse. I want to kiss you so long and hard, we'd both be limping back to work without any hope of hiding what would be obvious in my shorts, at least." Oh, God. The memory of Gracen's kisses -- and everything else -- had provided the fodder for every fantasy Jesse and his hand had enjoyed since Sunday night. There hadn't been many of those fantasies, because Jesse really was worn out and sometimes fell asleep with the mental image of Gracen looming over him and his own hand on his cock, but yeah. At the moment, his dick didn't seem to care about being erect under shorts and tights and a jock strap. It was doing its best to fight with all those layers and make itself obvious to Gracen, even with no chance of anything happening. "I have my car today. Maybe we can fit something in when we get off. Oh, God. I mean when we're done with the mall." Jesse did his best to smile, but he knew it was shaky, at best. "You're all I've been able to think about." It wasn't an easy admission, or even one that Jesse was happy making. It was true, though. In amongst his work-associated concerns, thoughts of Gracen had sprung up, distracting him. He'd even given one of the regular late-night shoppers at Welling's an extra twenty dollars in change. He was lucky she'd pointed it out; otherwise it would have come out of his pay. Gracen groaned quietly, but even with the windows open and the A/C running, Jesse heard it. "I haven't been Someone Special - 70

able to concentrate on anything," he said. "Not even the photos for my next collection, and believe me when I say Alonzo is not happy. How much time do you have? Real time, not wish time? Because if it's more than five minutes, I can work with that, and fuck it if anyone sees us!" There was something really comforting about knowing it wasn't just him. Something good. "If I don't get something from the food court before I leave, I'll have almost half an hour. We could meet right back here. How about we jerk each other off?" "How about I meet you here with condoms and suck you until you shoot hot and hard?" As counter offers went, that was a good one, but Jesse wasn't entirely willing to do that. "If you have condoms, how about I suck you off? I haven't had the chance to feel your cock in my mouth yet, but I want to." It was only when he heard a loud, clearly scandalized gasp that Jesse realized they'd been speaking more loudly than was reasonable, probably because of the way Gracen's air conditioning rattled and wheezed. Either way, the horrified-looking old man who'd been passing by moved on. Jesse looked at Gracen, and Gracen looked back. Jesse felt his own chin start quivering, bouncing up and down a little as he tried to keep himself from laughing. Then Gracen's mouth started doing the same thing and it didn't take more than a second before they were both laughing. Jesse couldn't remember laughing so hard since before his family had imploded -- not even with Jazz. If it hadn't been for the passage of time, Jesse thought they might have stayed there in Gracen's car forever, or Someone Special - 71

at least for a few hours. As it was, Gracen's watch started beeping while they were still laughing, and that was their cue to get back inside. Jesse walked slowly, dreading the return to work, but when they reached the main doors and Gracen opened one of them for him, he smiled. "I'm glad we spent our break in your car," Jesse said bluntly. "I just wish we'd had more time." "And been somewhere more private," Gracen answered. "By the way? I'm absolutely in support of your suggestion. The one you made that had that man all freaked out." Good to know. Especially because it was still something Jesse wanted to do. "Cool. Guess it's back to the rug rats and candy canes for now, though. Just smile, okay?" Jesse couldn't swear it was because of him, but Gracen did smile for the rest of the day.

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Chapter Six Sunday night wasn't going anything like the way Gracen had hoped. Oh, he and Jesse had gone to dinner. There was a nice upscale diner just a few blocks from Gracen's place where the food was good and plentiful and the décor understated but not overly fancy. Gracen wasn't much for the kind of places that made a man feel inadequate just walking through the door, and he sincerely doubted Jesse would have liked anything too refined. They seemed to share the same sort of sensibility about that, which was a relief. Expensive elegance was never going to be Gracen's favorite thing, no matter what Alonzo said. For that matter, Alonzo was going to be less than happy when he found out Gracen was seeing Jesse -- not Jesse specifically, but someone like Jesse. The male part wasn't an issue, but the whole working-class-and-not-independently-wealthy part? Oh, Alonzo wouldn't like that. He never did. The man had a strong belief that Gracen could become even more successful if he would just date the right men, by which Alonzo meant men in a position to advance Gracen's career. Alonzo never seemed to understand that Gracen was happy with the success he already had. Even if Gracen hadn't been, he doubted he would have been willing to pimp himself out for another show or a good review, or anything else Alonzo thought Gracen could get through private investments. It was a subject they'd been over and over, more times than Gracen could count, since he and Alonzo had first met. Fortunately, it Someone Special - 73

didn't keep them from being good friends in addition to their artist-and-agent relationship. Alonzo would have sneered at the idea of taking a date to the Destiny Diner, but Gracen didn't care. Jesse had liked the place just fine, and that was what mattered. Maybe Jesse had even liked it a little bit too much because Gracen was fairly sure it was the second order of house-special fries -- poached in duck fat before being crisped in the fryer, then drizzled with truffle oil -that had led to Jesse falling asleep on the couch during the three minutes Gracen had spent getting them drinks once they'd returned to Gracen's apartment. They'd walked in, Gracen had headed for the kitchen and dithered over whether he wanted wine or a beer, and by the time he'd returned to the living room? Yeah. Sleeping Jesse. It was a little disappointing, but not enough so to have Gracen waking the poor guy up. Hell, Jesse'd had dark circles forming under his eyes even before their first lunch-in-the-car date and they'd only grown deeper in the days since. If Jesse kept up his current pace, Gracen had a feeling there would be some sort of sickness in Jesse's future. No one could operate for close to a month on four hours of sleep a night without leaving themselves open to every germ and virus that wandered by. Gracen had seen that much just volunteering at the shelter. The ones who wouldn't stay overnight or got there too late to be assigned a bed spent most of their time skittish as all hell on the streets. The next thing they knew, they had colds or bronchitis, sometimes even pneumonia. So yes, Gracen wanted to climb into a bed with Jesse and roll around for a while, getting sweaty and sticky and sated, but not so much that he was going to wake Jesse up when the guy needed Someone Special - 74

sleep more than sex. There was always the morning, anyway. Gracen had never been the sort to refuse a good bout of morning sex, or any other time of day sex either, as long as he was into whoever he was with, and Gracen was definitely into Jesse. He thought he might be more into Jesse than he should be, really, because they hadn't spent much time alone together, but he definitely liked Jesse a lot. The Santa's Workshop job would be over soon enough, Gracen reminded himself as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom and grabbed one of his pillows, then the lightweight blanket that had been folded over the end of the bed. Once the elf-ing was finished for the year, Jesse would have more time, and even if that time was in the middle of the day for the rest of the world, Gracen set his own hours. He could work around that if Jesse was determined to keep working his dead-end jobs with the grocery and newspaper. Gracen hadn't quite managed to ask about that, taking the coward's way out, but he had a feeling it was a touchy subject and Gracen wasn't willing to broach it just yet. Gracen returned to the living room quietly. Walking on little cat feet, or whatever that quote was. He didn't care enough to recall it exactly right then. God, Jesse was gorgeous, even twisted up at the end of the couch, his hair hanging down over his eyes. He looked younger, but still exhausted, and Gracen debated whether letting him sleep on the couch was a good idea. Jesse would likely be more comfortable in Gracen's bed, but there was every chance that waking Jesse up to change rooms would only send a jolt of adrenalin rushing through that worn out body and what good would that do? Better to make Jesse comfortable right where he was for a while. Maybe once sleep set in Someone Special - 75

heavily, Jesse would be more likely to only wake a little when Gracen moved him. It was easier than Gracen thought to reposition Jesse on the couch. He simply pressed the pillow gently to the side of Jesse's head that wasn't being propped up by an elbow on the arm of the couch, and Jesse mumbled something. His head followed the pillow as Gracen pulled it away, little by little, until Jesse was lying down, his knees pulling up until the entirety of Jesse's body was supported by the lush cushions. Gracen took the risk of disturbing him in order to remove Jesse's sneakers, but Jesse just sighed softly and turned his face against the pillow, which was damnably cute. As much as Gracen was sure Jesse would have been even more comfortable without the jeans he wore, that was going too far. Jesse would definitely wake up at that -- Gracen would have, if their positions were reversed, anyway -- and God knew what he would make of Gracen trying to strip his sleeping body, but it probably wouldn't be anything good. "Sleep sweet," Gracen murmured as he covered Jesse with the soft, light blanket. He leaned down, brushing Jesse's hair back a little, then smiled and stroked his thumb over Jesse's cheekbone. "You need it, and I'll be here when you wake up. Well, I'll be in my work room, but close enough to 'here' that it counts." Gracen waited until he was in his work room to call Alonzo. The door was mostly closed, just open enough that he'd hear Jesse when he woke up. "Hey," he said quietly when Alonzo answered. "So what was the problem with shot fifteen again?" Alonzo snorted, sounding vaguely pig-like through the phone. "Try shots seventeen, thirty-six, forty-one and fifty-three. Fifteen is fine. And I thought you had a Someone Special - 76

'date' tonight, but it's not even eleven. What happened? Your latest low-rent boy blow you off?" Gracen laughed and wiggled his mouse, pulling his work computer out of sleep mode. "If I frequented rent boys, whether low or high, and said rent-boy had blown me, I'd still be reveling in post-coital bliss right about now." He laughed again. "Seriously, Alonzo, you need to start thinking before you say things that sound pervy, especially to me. And just because someone does real work for a living and doesn't make a crazy amount of money, it doesn't make them low-rent. Hell, Alonzo, if I didn't have some small degree of talent and skill with a camera, I'd be one of those low-rent boys you love sneering at me for seeing." "Your father was a high-ranking executive for a major corporation," Alonzo said bluntly. "Even without the settlement you got when your parents died, you wouldn't be working at a gas station. And you know I didn't mean anything sexual before, so stop trying to embarrass me." Gracen's eye roll was purely for his own benefit. "Please. You embarrass yourself. I've never had to try, even once. You can front as much as you want to, but I know you're blushing right now, so give it a rest and tell me what's wrong with seventeen." "Tell me what happened with your date, Gracie," Alonzo demanded. "Did he need to go home? It's a school night, after all." Yeah, Alonzo could be a prick sometimes, but that was just his way. Especially when Gracen had made him blush, which was why Gracen could laugh off that last comment. "First off, he's twenty-five. Secondly, he's here. He's working three jobs right now, so he's taking a nap while I get some work done." Gracen rolled his eyes again at Someone Special - 77

Alonzo's answering chuckle. "Before you say something stupid and annoying about him or me -- something else, I mean -- just remember that I'm completely capable of hanging up on you and having fun with my date instead of working right now. So, what was it about seventeen again?" Gracen grinned while Alonzo apparently forgot all about Gracen's date, now that there was a threat of nonwork on the table. He didn't necessarily agree with what Alonzo had to say about the photos in question, but he didn't need to. Alonzo was a pain in the ass, some days, but he also had a damned good eye for what people would buy. That was enough incentive for Gracen to pull up other versions of those pictures and email them. He'd long since passed the point in his life where he thought he knew everything. Gracen was only sure he knew most things. Alonzo was allowed to know a thing or two, as well, just not very often. If Gracen gave in too much, Alonzo would try to walk all over him, and that would only lead to pain. For both of them, really. They fell into their usual banter, going back and forth and insulting each other affectionately. It wasn't a relationship most people understood -- God knew none of Alonzo's girlfriends ever did -- but it worked for them. Eventually, Gracen heard sounds that translated as Jesse being awake and rustling about out in the rest of the apartment. He was shocked when he looked at the clock and saw that it was almost two in the morning. "Jesus Christ, Alonzo, it's crazy late! You have that meeting tomorrow, don't you?" Alonzo groaned. "Yeah. Time funs when you're having flies. Shit." It wasn't funny when Alonzo deliberately screwed up clichés, but Alonzo refused to Someone Special - 78

believe that. "Hey, are we going tree shopping this week? I'm busy until Thursday, but --" Oh, crap. Tree shopping, His and Alonzo's annual holiday tradition, where Alonzo would scope out the most unlikely guys on the lot and point them out to Gracen as prospective matches and Gracen would do the same for Alonzo, but with women. Then they bought their trees, arranged for delivery, and spent the rest of the night at Alonzo's, watching Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, and The Nightmare Before Christmas, all of which were classics as far as Gracen and Alonzo were concerned. "Um." Gracen bit his own lip for a moment, then he heard the water start running in the kitchen and he rushed on. "Actually, I was thinking about waiting until next Sunday night. I thought I'd ask Jesse to do the whole tree thing with me this year. I don't think he and his sister do much for the holidays, and--" "All the best trees will be gone by then," Alonzo said, interrupting. "But fine. I'll see you and your new friend at the Mahoney's lot, next Sunday night. Around nine, as usual, right? Right. And I need to get to bed, so… Night, Gracie." Gracen stared at the silent phone in his hand for a moment, until he heard the water shut off in the kitchen, then he placed the handset back in the base. Crap. Alonzo wanted to meet Jesse. Everything inside him was screaming that it was much too early for Alonzo and Jesse to meet. Hell, Gracen and Jesse hadn't even reached the point where they'd mentioned meeting each other's friends or families, but Alonzo was a force to be reckoned with when he set his mind to something, and Alonzo apparently wanted to meet Jesse. Or else Alonzo wasn't Someone Special - 79

willing to go tree shopping all by himself, which was the more likely scenario. Until they'd started going together, years earlier, Alonzo hadn't really enjoyed the process, from what Gracen knew. Alonzo had actually dreaded it enough that -- according to Alonzo himself -- the man hadn't had a tree at all, some years. Yeah, Gracen decided as he closed his photo files and left his work room, that had to be it. Alonzo didn't want to go looking for a tree when he was single and would have to look at happy couples and families, which would just remind him that he was almost as alone as Gracen had been. It had nothing to do with Alonzo wanting to meet Jesse. Gracen was smiling with relief at figuring it out when he walked into the kitchen. "Hey, you're awake," he said, moving closer to Jesse and wrapping his arms around the man in a loose but firm hug. "Sleep well?" *** Jesse sighed softly and let himself be held. He even participated, letting his own arms close around Gracen and resting his chin on Gracen's shoulder. "I did," he murmured, and it was partly true. He really had slept well for a while; at least he felt somewhat rested and that had to have happened before the nightmares started. If he never dreamed about blood again, it would be too soon. Still, he felt pretty good. The nightmares were old… well, not friends, but they were at least familiar. Most memories were like that. "I'm sorry I passed out on you, though. If I'd known I was that tired, I would have just gone home tonight." Gracen's hands roamed slowly up and down his back and Jesse couldn't convince himself that they felt Someone Special - 80

anything but good. He didn't even want to try. "It's fine," Gracen said softly, his lips close enough to Jesse's ear that Jesse felt his own hair stir with Gracen's breath. "You were obviously exhausted. Besides, after I watched you for a while, I used the time to get some work done, so it's a win-win for both of us. Are you hungry? I could make us a couple grilled cheeses." Jesse laughed. Not loud or hard, but as much as he could with the nightmares still fresh in his mind. The last thing he was right then was hungry. "I'm good," he answered, yawning a little. "I think those fries are still up to here." He pushed back a bit from Gracen and moved one hand from Gracen's waist to his own sternum. "Sorry I doubted you when you recommended them at first, but duck fat? Not something that sounds super-tasty. Until you try it, I guess." Another small yawn left him and Jesse tried to shake off the lingering fatigue that still dogged him. "I think I need a shower or something." "I think we need to get you to bed," Gracen countered. "If you shower now, it'll just wake you up even more, and… maybe I'm being intrusive, but I think you need more sleep. God knows I'm pretty tired myself, after working all day and dealing with Alonzo all night. How about we just go to bed for now? I'll set the alarm so we'll have some time to play before we need to leave to be Santa's backup." That actually sounded really good to Jesse. Hours more of sleeping, this time in Gracen's incredibly comfortable bed? Yeah, that sounded about as close to heaven as he would ever get. The couch had been pretty damned comfortable, too, but that bed… oh, God, Jesse thought he might have been willing to sleep with Gracen again -- even if Gracen had been old and wrinkly and Someone Special - 81

crappy at sex -- just to sleep in that bed. It wasn't a comfortable bit of knowledge, but there it was. Fortunately, Gracen was the exact opposite of those things, but still. "Okay," Jesse said, not even bothering to try stifling the next yawn. "Sorry. I'm just…" He shrugged as he stepped back, out of Gracen's arms. "Just borderline catatonic from working three different jobs?" Gracen asked, and when Jesse looked at him again, Gracen was frowning. "Don't be sorry. I'm amazed you're managing as well as you are. Come on. We're off to bed." Jesse wanted to ask about the frown, but he was just so tired. The few hours he'd slept on Gracen's sofa only seemed to have him even more exhausted than he'd been after dinner, so when Gracen took his hand and led him to the bedroom, Jesse didn't do anything but follow. He stood there, passive and slightly fuzzy inside, while Gracen undressed him and gave him a gentle shove toward the mattress, and Jesse started to make a discontented sound when Gracen left the room. That sound hadn't quite made it to his lips before Gracen was back with a pillow and blanket and when that pillow was on the bed where Jesse's head would rest, Jesse smiled. "Thanks." "You're welcome," Gracen said, grinning. Then Jesse found himself looking lower while Gracen disrobed and crawled in on the other side of the big bed. "Meet me in the middle?" Jesse didn't bother to answer with words, he just shifted across the mattress and sighed softly, happily, when he shored up against Gracen's side. Then Gracen somehow had an arm around him, supporting his neck while the edge of the pillow supported his head, and Someone Special - 82

Jesse truly felt like he was in heaven. He was on his side with only one hand free, but that hand moved unerringly to Gracen's half-hard cock. Jesse was pretty sure he could manage a hand job, even while partially asleep. "I'm fine," Gracen murmured, though Jesse wasn't sure he believed him. Gracen's hand closed over his, pulling him away. "I mean it, Jesse. I'm fine. It's nothing that won't keep 'til morning. Once we wake up, though, be prepared to be plundered. I'm totally going to Pirates of the Caribbean your ass." Jesse figured he'd laugh at that later. At the moment, all he could do was smile a little through the weariness that had plagued him for weeks. "I'm so gonna hold you to that," he said… at least he thought he'd said it. He couldn't be sure, considering how swiftly the darkness swam up to greet him. The next thing Jesse knew, he was waking up and feeling far more rested than he should have. He was curled up against Gracen, arms around the man, his groin pressed tightly to the curve of Gracen's ass, and while Jesse was just waking up, his cock appeared to have gotten there before the rest of him because it was hard. Hard and nestled nicely in the crease between Gracen's nether cheeks. It took a moment, but Jesse finally remembered what had happened the night before… and more to the point, what hadn't happened. Had he really fallen asleep on Gracen? Enough so that they hadn't had any kind of sex? Sadly, Jesse couldn't deny it. He had a vague recollection of Gracen's couch and an even more vague one of falling naked into Gracen's bed, but fuck if Jesse remembered any kind of sex at all. It should have had him feeling guilty, but for some reason Jesse actually felt good. He remembered having Someone Special - 83

nightmares on Gracen's couch, but not after moving to the bed. He hadn't had nightmares the previous Sunday night either, now that he was thinking about it, but that was likely because he hadn't wanted to disturb Gracen, even in his subconscious mind, where the memories lived. Nightmares or not didn't change the fact that he was awake, though. Awake and hard, with Gracen's ass right there, so close that Jesse knew he could just shimmy a little, reposition himself slightly, and his cock wouldn't be resting in Gracen's cleft, but sliding into Gracen's body. A small shudder passed through him and he bit his lip, resisting the urge. They needed lube and latex. Jesse wasn't going to bypass those things, though he was tempted. Gracen was still asleep, after all, and pushing his cock into that relaxed hole wouldn't be difficult if there was saliva and pre-come involved. Jesse thought it would probably feel incredible to be inside Gracen without a rubber, but no. He could have. Gracen probably wouldn't even realize until it was too late, but Jesse didn't do that. He didn't have unsafe sex. Never had and never would. He for damned sure wouldn't have it with Gracen when the man was unaware of what was going on. It was the fact that he wanted to -- not do it without Gracen knowing, but the fact that he wanted to do it at all -- that was freaking Jesse out. He was getting too attached. Jesse knew that. He should have ditched Gracen after that first Sunday, except he'd been so sure it was just a fling. But seeing Gracen every day and having lunch with him in his car since Wednesday had turned the fling into something Jesse hadn't expected. It felt almost like a relationship, and Jesse couldn't do that. Not with anyone, but Someone Special - 84

especially not with Gracen. He liked Gracen, damn it, and that meant Jesse needed to run away, as far and as fast as he could. He had no choice. Then Gracen mumbled something and pushed back against him, his hands finding Jesse's arms, and Jesse forgot all about running, or even walking. His entire body was focused more on an entirely different ing that started with fuck. "Hey," Gracen muttered, stretching away from him, and Jesse growled a little. Then Gracen pulled back, passing a well-used tube and plastic packet to him. "Go ahead." Gracen still sounded a little bit sleep-befuddled. "Do it, baby." Jesse opened the tube and did what needed doing, with first one finger, then a second. He opened the condom wrapper and covered himself, adding a bit more lube, then he lined himself up and pushed deep, his cock sliding to flush with only a small amount of resistance and a groan from Gracen. When they'd both finished and he pulled himself from Gracen's depths, Jesse was even more conflicted. He wasn't at all distressed by wondering whether he needed a shower, though, so when Gracen suggested they bathe, Jesse smiled as much as he could and followed along. When Gracen made use of the condom and lube he'd brought into the shower by plundering Jesse's hole just as he'd promised, Jesse was more than conflicted -- he was torn. He could keep seeing Gracen, even knowing what might happen if they stayed together for more than a year or so, or he could walk away and never see Gracen again. The smart choice was the latter, but Jesse felt… Someone Special - 85

something. Something for Gracen that he'd never felt for any of his other lovers. God, he wanted it to be okay for him to be with Gracen. He really did. That was out of the question, of course, but their shared job would end in a week and a half, so maybe that would be enough time. Maybe, Jesse thought, he could make enough memories that when everything went wrong, a few years on, he would be able to live in the past and remember his time with Gracen. He smiled and agreed when Gracen asked him to go tree shopping the next Sunday night. Even with that requiring him meeting Gracen's friend Alonzo, Jesse agreed. Buying a tree and such might be the last good memory he had. Fuck, anything could be the last good memory for him, and he knew it.

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Chapter Seven The car-lunches had become a regular thing, as well as the part of the day Gracen looked forward to most. Even more than he looked forward to the smiling kids and happy-but-harried parents. He woke up in the morning and his first thought was what he could accidentally take too much of to work, so Jesse would have to share and hopefully eat more than a single little PB&J. Gracen couldn't create more hours in the day for Jesse to sleep, but he could for damned sure make sure his boyfriend was eating enough when they were together. Gracen's usual simple sandwich had morphed into daily footlong subs, stacked with meat and cheese and what Jesse laughingly referred to as rabbit food, but fuck it. Half of one was much more nourishing and filling than what Jesse had been eating for lunch before that, so Gracen just shrugged every time and accepted half of Jesse's sandwich in trade for half a sub and whatever flavor of soda looked good at the little Cuban store between home and the mall. Gracen was already outside in his car, air conditioning running, but he wasn't eating yet. He was waiting for Jesse, who finally showed up almost five minutes after Gracen headed outside. "Hey," Jesse gasped, sounding out of breath as he opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. "Sorry it took so long. Arma wanted to talk to me about something." Gracen smiled and starting divvying up the sub while Jesse took a few deep breaths. Someone Special - 87

"That's okay," he said sincerely. "You're here now. So, what did Arma want?" It seemed like a simple enough question to Gracen, but Jesse went still for just a moment, even the heavy breaths silent. Then Jesse shrugged and took the sub and soda Gracen was offering. "She just wanted to say I'm good with the kids. And if I want to play elf again next year, I should let her know and she'll have personnel hold a spot for me. I didn't think malls did that." It seemed like a simple enough answer on the surface, but Gracen could tell there was something else. Jesse wasn't looking at him. In fact, Jesse was looking at the dashboard, the steering wheel, even the rear view mirror -- all things that were at least nominally in Gracen's direction -- but Jesse wasn't looking at him, and that was strange. Jesse almost always at least glanced at Gracen, but right then? Apparently Gracen's tightscovered knee was more interesting. "This mall does, sometimes," Gracen answered, making a mental note to see whether Arma would tell him the rest of whatever the conversation had entailed. It was none of his business, granted, but he wanted to know what it was that had Jesse so oddly uncomfortable. She probably wouldn't tell him a thing, but it was worth a try. Later. "I guess a lot of the malls owned by big corporations and stuff don't do that kind of thing as much, but this one is family owned, so they're pretty good about treating people well, and when someone does good work for them, even in temporary positions, they're usually happy to show it by doing things like… letting them know they have a job next year if they want one." Gracen grinned. "Now eat your lunch, baby. You'll need your strength later. You've noticed that Santa's Someone Special - 88

Workshop gets busier every day, right? Well, it'll be a complete madhouse in a couple hours, after the schools get out." A groan sounded, but Gracen was thrilled to see Jesse's pretty hazel eyes sparkling when Jesse finally looked at him. "Is it absolutely necessary to remind me of that every single day? You're going to give me a complex. Fear of candy canes and the kids who love them, maybe." Gracen laughed and opened his own soda, then reached over to open Jesse's. "There really ought to be a name for that." "Candi-canius-kinter-phobia," Jesse said, somehow loading the made-up term with what Gracen could only think of as gravity. "It's a very serious condition, so stop trying to scare me. I might actually want to do this again next year." Gracen's eyes rolled, but he took a bite of his half of sub. "Whatever," he said around the mouthful of Italian cold cuts and cheese. "Send me the therapy bills if you want." Jesse paused, sandwich halfway to his lips and the sparkle in his eyes dimmed a bit, though his lips were still curved into a smile. Gracen couldn't be sure, but he thought Jesse sounded a little sad when he replied, "Therapy can't cure everything, no matter how much money you throw at it. I'm pretty sure candy-cane-kid phobia is one of those things." Then Jesse took a huge bite of salami, pepperoni, and whatever else was in the sub, and moaned "Mmm…" and Gracen forgot all about it. His mind was more engaged with trying to convince his cock that Jesse's sounds weren't a prelude to sex, no matter how similar they might seem to the hungry, wanton noises Jesse Someone Special - 89

made when they were at Gracen's on Sundays or early Mondays. Their break went too quickly, but it always did. Still, Gracen wished there were enough time for Jesse to have a nap or something. Even half an hour would do the guy good. The one night of solid sleep at Gracen's wasn't enough for anyone, and Gracen knew it. He thought Jesse knew it, too, even if he wouldn't admit it. But there wasn't anything either of them could do about it. It was what it was. Gracen could have paid Jesse's property taxes or whatever, but he had no illusions about how well even making the offer would go over. Jesse was independent -- maybe too independent -- and stubborn, on top of it. Jesse might even have good reason to be that way, but considering how little Jesse liked to talk about himself, Gracen wouldn't know. He did know, or believed, anyway, that pushing Jesse would only push Jesse away, and that was the last thing Gracen wanted. If anything, he wanted to find a way to pull Jesse closer, to inspire enough trust that Jesse would share things with him because Jesse wanted Gracen to know those things. Complaining about Jesse's schedule or offering money for Jesse's bills wouldn't do that, and Gracen was even more glad that he'd wussed out on asking about Jesse's jobs back when he'd first thought to inquire. "You ready to face the masses?" Gracen asked with a teasing grin as they walked back to the main doors of the mall after finishing their lunch. "You know, I'm thinking of buying you a holly-jolly tool belt or something, so you'll have a place to stash hundreds of candy canes at a time. It would be not only handy, but kind of hot." Jesse stopped and turned, blinking a few times, his eyes wide. "Did you just call me 'Handy Smurf' in a Someone Special - 90

really round-about way? Because that's just wrong, man." He was smiling, though, so Gracen shrugged. "Well, you're not blue or anything," he said with a smirk, "and you definitely fill out a pair of tights way better than old Handy, but I might have a little bit of a thing for a guy in a tool belt and curly-toed shoes." Gracen's smirk grew deeper when Jesse blushed. "Not just any Handy Elf, of course. A very specific one." "I don't even want to know what your plans would be for the candy canes," Jesse muttered. "And thanks, by the way," he added as they started moving again. "I really needed something else to find scary about candy canes." Gracen's laugh came out louder than he'd planned, and while several people entering and leaving the mall looked over to see who was so amused, they all smiled, probably because of his elf costume. "At least this particular 'scary thing' doesn't involve children. Um, forget I said that. That sounded really, really wrong. I'm a bad, naughty elf." Jesse snorted. "You think?" Gracen more than thought, he knew, but Jesse was laughing and happy for the moment, and that was what mattered. *** "You're home!" The words came in conjunction with Jazz nearly tackling him as he walked through the front door. "Oh, God, Jess, I was so worried! You need a cell phone. Seriously!" Jesse frowned, tired eyes feeling full of sand after the longer than usual commute from the newspaper's distribution center -- which was a fancy term for Someone Special - 91

warehouse if Jesse had ever heard one -- to home. The drive had taken an extra forty minutes, though Jesse didn't know why. Traffic had been snarled as fuck. He'd tried to get the AM radio traveler's information station to come in while he'd been sitting on the stop-and-go, bumper-to-bumper parking lot the freeway had been, but the stupid radio wasn't working again. It seemed to have a mind of its own, going on the fritz on a whim and starting to work again just as willfully. "Uh… okay? Look, Jazz, I'm sorry I'm late, but I'm really fucking beat, so do you mind if I go to bed?" He yawned. "Why aren't you dressed for school?" he asked next, only then noticing that his sister was still in her pajamas and robe. "You can't afford to be late." Jazz glared as she released him fully. "See that? I just went from 'thank God you're alive' to 'why are you such a jerk' in about point-five seconds. So sorry if I was willing to blow off a day of school because my brother might be dead or dying! God, Jess. Sometimes you can be such an asshole." Jesse frowned, trying his best to open his eyes completely. They'd been at half-mast ever since turning onto his street. "Huh? Why would I be dead? Fuck, Jasmine, what are you talking about? And don't say 'asshole.' Lawyers don't say asshole." Jazz glared even harder and crossed her arms over her ribs, obviously angry. "That shows what you know. Lawyers say 'asshole' all the time, just not in court. And I thought you were dead," she added, "because there was a fucking three-car accident on the fucking freeway -and shut up, lawyers say 'fuck,' too -- and they've been showing the traffic backup on TV. One of the smooshed cars looked like an old, faded red Honda and then you were late and they said there were fatalities, you Someone Special - 92

shithead! And if you had a God damned cell phone, I could have called you and found out you were fine! God!" Oh, Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. No wonder Jazz had grabbed him like that when he'd walked through the door. He'd have done the same if their positions had been reversed. Even thinking about the possibility of his sister being in an accident, much less a fatal one, had something in the pit of Jesse's stomach feeling tight and sour. And he'd chastised her about being ready for school, which meant he was exactly the kind of asshole she'd said. An asshole without a cell phone, because Jazz needed the internet at home and the cheapest way Jesse had found to manage that was through the company that provided their landline service. "I'm sorry," Jesse announced, reaching out and dragging her into another hug. "I'm sorry, Jasmine. I didn't know. The car radio's screwed again. Seriously, if I'd had any idea, I would have found a phone and called home. I was stuck in that traffic you mentioned, but I really am fine. I'm fine, Jazz." "Well, I know that now," Jazz said, maybe twenty seconds of hugging later. She sounded like herself again, which was good. "I didn't mean to freak out on you, okay? It's just… you're all I have. You're all the family I have left, Jesse, and I don't want to lose you like that." Jesse nodded against her head, enjoying the entirely unusual physical closeness of their hug, but he didn't try to prolong it when Jazz pulled away. "Me either. Look, why don't you take the car today, since you're running late? I'll catch the bus to the mall and you can get one of your friends to follow you there after class and bring you home after you drop it off for me?" Someone Special - 93

Jazz frowned. "How about you call in sick for that elf job, and I bring the car back here after my classes?" God, that was tempting. With the terrible traffic and the scene with Jazz, Jesse was looking at three hours of sleep, at best. The idea of being able to lie down and sleep, even on his lumpy mattress, until he'd need to get up for his job at Welling's was beyond good. It was almost orgasmic, though Jesse didn't have the energy for that. It was more than tempting, damn it. So much so that Jesse almost said yes, but then it hit him, even with as weary and beaten-down as he was feeling. "I can't," he said with a soft groan. "I wish to fuck I could, but I can't." Because what if Gracen was up, doing his photo stuff? What if he had the TV or radio on and heard about the wreck? They hadn't exchanged numbers because they saw each other every day, but Gracen knew what kind of car Jesse drove. If Gracen saw the same stuff on TV that Jazz had seen, he might leap to the same conclusion, and if that happened, then Jesse not showing for work, even if he called in to say he was sick, would only make Gracen worry, and… "God, when the fuck did I get so involved that I'd rather miss sleep than worry him?" "Who?" Jazz said swiftly. "Who do you not want to worry? Is it whoever you've been seeing on Sundays?" It was only then that Jesse realized he'd said that last part out loud. Well, shit. "His name is Gracen," Jesse said carefully, no longer sleepy at all, though his mind still felt sluggish and thick. "He's a photographer. We work together at the mall. If I'm not there… Shit. I have to be there, Jazz. I can't let him think something's wrong when I'm fine." Jazz sighed softly. "You're getting involved, aren't you?" Then she paused and shook her head. "No. You're Someone Special - 94

already involved. With some man who takes pictures of Santa. Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I know you think you can never have a real relationship, and sure, you've dated some stinkers like that jerk Brady, but…" Her voice trailed off and Jesse chuckled mirthlessly. "Yeah. I have. He's not like that. He's…" Good. Decent. Kind. Except Jesse couldn't say that; not to Jazz. He had her convinced that he couldn't read people and that was why he always ended up with guys who gave assholes a bad name. If he told her what a great guy Gracen was, she'd eventually figure out that he'd been lying to her for years, and Jesse couldn't risk it. Bad enough that he knew what would likely happen eventually. He wasn't willing to let his little sister start worrying about it, too. "He's just a guy," Jesse said. "He's okay and I guess I kind of like him. I just figure it'd be mean to let him think I'm hurt or dead just because I take a day off at the mall. And before you ask, no. I can't just call him." That wasn't strictly true. Jesse figured he could probably look Gracen's number up or call information or something, but fuck it. He was relatively awake after everything with Jazz; he might as well go to work. "Go get dressed. Take the car to school and drop it off for me later. I mean it, Jazz. You're not missing even a single class just because I'm not dead or dying." It was only when Jazz laughed that Jesse realized how stupid that had sounded. "You know what I mean. Get a move on. I'm going to sleep." Well, going to his room and then having a series of cold showers after she'd left, just to wake him up enough to stay up. He had a long day ahead of him. "Bully," Jazz muttered, clearly intending for him to hear it. Someone Special - 95

"You bet," Jesse called after her. "I'm such a bully, making you go to school and stuff! I have no idea about how you put up with me!" "Neither do I," she returned over her shoulder as she hit the stairs and headed up to her room. "But since you're not dead today, I'll cut you some slack!" By the time it occurred to Jesse to tell her he wasn't dead any day, which meant she should always cut him some slack, her door had closed loudly enough for him to hear it and she had music playing. He was still smiling as he made his way to his own room. Jasmine was going to be one hell of a lawyer. He could just tell. After the first cold shower, he could also tell that the Florida version of icy-cold wasn't going to be enough to keep him awake. He'd almost fallen asleep twice while the spray poured over him. He wasn't sure whether it was the extra time driving or the emotional upheaval that had him so beat, or maybe a combination of the two, but there was no way Jesse was going to be able to work at the mall that day. He might make it to the bus stop, but it was about fifty-fifty on whether he'd end up sleeping on the bench like some vagrant or get on the bus. If he did make it onto the bus, Jesse figured he'd fall asleep there and end up at the end of the line, which wasn't anyplace he wanted to be. A second cold shower didn't have him feeling more hopeful, and by nine a.m., he was ready to admit defeat. Their one computer was a laptop, which Jazz had taken to school. Jesse was glad about that, actually. It meant she was planning on doing some real studying, even with the turmoil of the early morning. It limited his methods of finding Gracen's number, though.

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The white pages didn't turn up anything. Oh, there were about two columns of people named G. Michaels, but no Gracen listed. Calling information, though Jesse hated to spend the extra money for an assisted call, also yielded nothing. Jesse didn't know why he was surprised, once he'd hung up with the operator. If it wasn't in the phone book, why had he ever thought the information line would have other listings? God, it was fucking impossible, and he was so damned tired. He felt like he could sleep for a week, if given the chance. Sleeping for a week, or even a day, would have been better in Gracen's bed, though that wasn't going to happen. Jesse needed to just be glad he got to sleep there, held close but not tight by Gracen on Sunday nights, and he was, but that was still three nights away. "God, my brain is fucking scattered," Jesse whispered to himself, just to hear something other than the silence of the house around him. He was usually asleep by the time Jazz left for school. He hadn't realized how the silence loomed when there was no one else around. One more cold shower and Jesse still hadn't figured out how to reach Gracen. He wasn't any more alert than he'd been before, either. Just colder. He was on his way to the kitchen, thinking he might make himself some coffee, though he doubted it would help, when the pictures on the wall stopped him for some reason. Jesse never looked at those pictures anymore, but he hadn't been willing to take them down, either. Himself and Jazz, when they'd been young enough to have been photographed sitting in Santa's lap, themselves, though these were school pictures. First through sixth grades for each of them. God, they'd been Someone Special - 97

so young. So innocent and unaware of how the world and fate would fuck them. Pictures of them with their parents, back before… just before. Professional studio shots, because Dad had liked to go every couple years, once Jazz was old enough to smile for the camera. Jesse never looked at them because he hated being reminded of how much hope he'd had and been robbed of, but he kept them because there was something both comforting and slightly masochistic about knowing he'd been that optimistic at an early age. Also because Jazz liked them, and he'd do pretty much anything for her. He smiled a distorted smile with nothing of pleasure about it, then walked into the kitchen, the towel around his hips sagging just a bit. Jesse hitched it up and opened the refrigerator, only to stop, staring inside without really seeing the contents as the pictures he'd just seen jogged the memory loose. Fuck the charge for an assisted call. "I need a listing for a business. Local. Michael Graven, uh… No. Graven Images. It's a photo studio." He scribbled the number down on the pad beside the phone, using the bright pink gel pen Jazz had left there. It wasn't Gracen's number, but it was step one. As long as there weren't too many further steps, Jesse figured he could stay awake long enough to get a message to Gracen, and that was what mattered. Well, that and calling Arma, who had offered Jesse a full-time, benefits-included assistant manager job in the customer service and information department at the mall that paid better than both his other regular jobs combined, because he was polite, and good with children and parents. He'd turned her down, of course, but he still needed to let her know that he wouldn't be able to do his elf Someone Special - 98

duties that day. She was a nice lady; Jesse couldn't leave her hanging. His first call to Graven Images, the guy that answered the phone got all snotty and said he couldn't pass messages along because he wasn't a secretary but a photographer and had real work to do, so he couldn't be bothered to even listen for more than a minute. Jesse wished he'd gotten the guy's name because if that was how he talked to clients, he was probably losing Gracen a lot of business. The second call, ten minutes later -- after Jesse had called and spoken with Arma -- yielded better results, at first. "I. I'm not sure I'm allowed to do that," the young woman on the phone said, sounding just a bit nervous. "I mean, I know you're not asking for the owner's phone number, but I just book appointments for the store. Maybe you should speak with the manager, Joel?" Jesse could almost hear her biting her lip. She probably wasn't, but she sounded just that anxious. "Would Joel be the uptight jackass who thinks he's way too important to take a message for the guy who pays him?" The muffled laugh he heard was answer enough. "Look, I'm sorry, uh…" "Charlie," the girl said. "Well, Charlene, but I go by Charlie." "Charlie," Jesse repeated. "Look. It's really important that I get a message to the owner. I understand that you don't want bother him at home, but I know he's awake by now. If you could at least call him and give him my number, that would be more than enough, I promise." Charlie started to say something and Jesse thought the half a word he heard sounded like she was going to agree. Then the voice of the guy he'd talked to before -Someone Special - 99

Joel, apparently -- came on the line. "I already told you that this is a business, and Charlene should have known better than to even listen to you. I guess we all know who she can blame for being fired. Don't call here again. The man who owns this company is far too busy to speak with anyone like you. And if you actually knew him, the way you're claiming to, you'd already have his number." Oh, God. Had he actually just gotten someone fired simply for listening to him? It seemed like it. Jesse hadn't gotten the impression that Joel was the kind of guy who would joke about that -- or anything else, really. Jesse groaned and forced himself to climb the stairs again, then dropped his towel and somehow dressed himself in jeans and a t-shirt. Going down the stairs was easier, just like always, and he stepped into the kitchen, mentally steeling himself for what he had to do next. It was easier than he'd expected to make the call, even though he knew he couldn't afford to spend the money. It was better than not spending it, in some ways. With any luck, he'd be able to save poor Charlie's job, anyway. "I need a cab," he said when the call was answered. "Jesse Munro. No, it's a private home, not an apartment." He went on to give his address and sighed when the person on the other end said twenty minutes. Jesse didn't even know if he'd be awake by then, but the drivers were wherever they were and it would take as long as it took. "Sooner would be better," he admitted, "but I'll be waiting." With any luck, the driver would be playing some sort of loud, annoying music and screaming into a cell phone for the entire ride. Otherwise Jesse might not be able to Someone Special - 100

direct him. He knew how to get to Gracen's place, but he for damned sure didn't know the address.

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Chapter Eight "Mmrfff…?" Alonzo's laugh sounded smug, even over the phone. "It's after nine o'clock. You should be awake." "Mrrrff," Gracen said again, uncharacteristically sleep-befuddled. Likely because he'd been up until nearly four a.m., trying to figure out why the pictures he sent Alonzo in zip files kept ending up looking like crazy tie-dyed birthday-cakes when they looked fine sent singly. It had to be something with the software, but not even the company that made the software could explain it. He wasn't about to tell Alonzo that he'd spent so much time trying to sort things out, though. "Wha' d'you wan'?" he mumbled. "No' working wi' you t'day. Sleeping now." "Okay," Alonzo said, still laughing. "So the cute young guy almost passed out in the back of the cab I was about to jump into -- his name is Jesse Munro, by the way, according to his driver's license -- isn't the same cute young guy you've been waxing poetical about for the last few days?" That woke Gracen up faster than a shot of espresso straight into a vein. "What? Jesse's here? What the fuck is he doing here?" Less than a second later, Gracen realized how that sounded. "Shit, Alonzo, can you bring him up? Or just send him up. Whatever. Pay the cab, okay? I'll get it back to you." Because Jesse taking a cab from wherever the hell he lived to Gracen's place? That almost screamed that something was wrong. Jesse didn't spend money like that. Whatever was going on, it had to Someone Special - 102

be big. "Wait, just get him into the lobby. I'll be down in, like, two minutes." Alonzo's smirk could be heard even through the phone. "I'll pay the driver and get him inside, but you're buying my tree this year. I'm going to be late for my meeting. It's only fair that I get something out of it since it's your boy making me late." "Boyfriend," Gracen clarified as he rolled from the bed, phone cradled between shoulder and ear. "He's not my 'boy,' Alonzo. He's my boyfriend. Or lover, if 'boyfriend' sounds too grade-school. I'll be right down. And Alonzo? Thanks for calling." Gracen ended the call and tossed the phone onto his bed before thinking better of it and moving it to the nightstand. Then he dug through his dresser, grabbing a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, paying no attention to whether they went together or not. He honestly didn't care whether he looked good. Not when Jesse was down in the lobby and there was something wrong. He left his apartment in a bit of a daze and it was only when Gracen was on the elevator that he realized he'd grabbed his keys. Good thing, too, because it would suck to get to the lobby and collect Jesse, only to find that they needed to wait for a locksmith, or worse, one of the building's maintenance guys. His bare feet grew quickly chilled on the glossy black elevator floor, but Gracen didn't care. He barely even noticed until the doors opened and he stepped out onto the soft carpeting of the lobby. Jesse was in one of the chairs, his elbows resting on his knees, head held in his hands. He was upright, though, which Gracen hoped meant he wouldn't have to carry Jesse upstairs. Gracen knew he was in pretty good Someone Special - 103

shape, but he wasn't sure he could actually scoop Jesse up, considering Jesse was taller and probably only ten to twenty pounds lighter than Gracen himself. "Hey, baby," Gracen said softly, once he was within a few feet of Jesse. He didn't want to shock Jesse, after all, and whatever had prompted the cab ride probably had Jesse freaked enough. "You made it. You're here. Do you think you can stand up and come upstairs with me?" Jesse's nod was so minute, Gracen almost missed it. "I'm wrecked," Jesse said, his voice almost as small as the nod had been. "I'm so fucking wrecked, Gracen." Jesse took a huge breath and Gracen heard it shuddering out a moment later. It only made Gracen more sure that whatever was wrong was big. "That's okay, baby," Gracen murmured, moving closer and closer, until he was in front of Jesse. He crouched, his hands on Jesse's knees. "Come on. Let's get you upstairs, hmmm? Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, but right now, I'm just glad you came to me, okay?" Jesse looked confused when he lifted his head from his hands, but once Gracen stood, Jesse did, too. "I. I need to pay the cab. I don't remember paying the cab." Gracen chuckled softly and took Jesse's hand, marveling at being able to do so on a day that wasn't Sunday. "It's fine, Jesse. The cab driver got paid. He even got another fare, and I know for a fact that the person he took tips well. Now, come upstairs." If Gracen hadn't already known there was something wrong with Jesse, the way the man followed along so docilely would have clued him in. Jesse wasn't the docile sort; not at all. Yet Jesse did follow the gentle tugging of Gracen's hand, going onto the elevator as easily as a lamb to the slaughter. It was disturbing. Someone Special - 104

Jesse followed him just as easily to the door of Gracen's apartment, then inside, and when Gracen actually closed the door, locking the rest of the world away, he was surprised to see Jesse relax, a tension Gracen hadn't even known was there becoming apparent by its very absence. Jesse relaxed so much that Gracen found himself supporting half of Jesse's weight, just to keep the guy from toppling over. He didn't mind, though. It made it easier to steer Jesse down the hall to the bedroom. "Baby," Gracen said, once he had Jesse sitting on the edge of the bed, "I really need you to tell me what's wrong. Something happened, and I don't know what it is. It's kind of freaking me out, okay?" Jesse started to answer in a jumbled, slurring way that told Gracen Jesse was not only bothered, but also so exhausted that he couldn't string words together well. Oh, Jesse was coherent, but he was rambling. Gracen caught something about a car accident that had delayed Jesse on his commute home, and Jesse's sister apparently being worried. Then some other stuff about Arma, and trying to reach Gracen. Jesse said a few things about calling Graven Images, too, and if Gracen hadn't been so worried about Jesse, he would have been pissed off. As it was, he pushed the anger down and when Jesse finished talking, Gracen leaned in close, pressing his lips to Jesse's softly. "It's okay, baby," he said after ending the gentle kiss. "Let's get you undressed and into bed, hmmm?" Jesse sighed, but it sounded like a good sigh, so Gracen set to stripping Jesse of denim and cotton, then helping Jesse under the covers that were still rumpled from Gracen's own interrupted sleep. Someone Special - 105

"Rest," Gracen said simply, pressing another kiss onto Jesse, this time to the man's forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up." He'd probably be right next to Jesse, but Gracen wasn't going to promise that out loud when he wasn't entirely sure yet. Surety or not, Gracen called Arma to ask whether there was another elf outfit available. When she asked why, he said that he was thinking about sending a colleague to cover his shift. He neither admitted nor denied that it had anything to do with a certain elf who'd called in sick, but he was fairly sure she knew. She sounded far too amused when she said it was fine as long as he had another photographer there by go-time. Gracen's second call was to his studio, and based upon what he'd been able to make out from Jesse's maunderings, he wasn't surprised when Joel, the manager, answered the phone. "Joel. Good. I'm glad I caught you. But isn't there supposed to be someone answering the phones?" Gracen knew there was, for a fact. Actually, there were supposed to be two other photographers as well as a receptionist at that time of day. It was a bit curious that Joel was answering the phone instead of one of his underlings. "She's in the bathroom right now," Joel said. "What can I do for you, Mr. Michaels? If you could make it quick, that would be good. We're kind of booked right now." "I need you to send one of the juniors out. Santa's Workshop needs a photographer for the usual stuff and the regular guy is sick. I know it'll mean the rest of you will need to double-up and maybe even work some overtime, but that's fine." Someone Special - 106

There was a moment of silence, then Joel started babbling. Gracen didn't know what he said because he didn't much care. There should have been more than enough staff at the studio to make Gracen's request feasible. The payroll always came through showing hours that seemed right for the various employees listed, but the fact that Jesse had said he'd heard the manager fire the girl answering the phones while Joel said she was in the bathroom… Well, maybe Joel had reconsidered. Gracen doubted it, but he still couldn't be sure. "So we're booked solid, Mr. Michaels. We don't have anyone who can do that… Santa thing." Joel sounded disgusted when he mentioned the mall gig, and that pissed Gracen off. "I could give a shit," he said bluntly. "I don't care if you need to do it yourself. Someone from Graven Images is going to be at the mall in the next thirty minutes, and it's not going to be me. So figure the shit out, Joel. Distribute our portraits and whatnot amongst your junior photogs if you have to. Just make sure you've got someone covering Santa's Workshop today. Because I said so." He hung up then, not willing to listen to any more snobbery from someone who had no reason to be snobby. Joel was gay, yes, but that wasn't a good enough reason for being an elitist asshole. Besides which, Joel had no reason or right to act that way. The guy had grown up in a trailer park outside Tallahassee. Gracen had known that when he'd hired Joel. He hadn't known the bastard was a… well, a piece of shit, apparently, because calling him as bastard wouldn't be technically true. As far as Gracen knew, Joel's parents had been married when Joel was conceived. He didn't care if they hadn't been, though. The point was, having Someone Special - 107

come from humble beginnings, Joel should be more tolerant of people, not less so. Gracen made one more call, to Arma again, telling her to call him if someone wasn't there within the next hour. He made a mental note to find out about the former receptionist -- if Joel had actually fired her because Jesse was trying to reach him, then Gracen couldn't let her stay fired -- then made sure his cell was on in case Arma did need to call him. Gracen was naked when he crawled into the bed, but he wasn't hard. Looking at Jesse usually caused an unavoidable physical reaction in his groin, but not right then. Not when Jesse was passed out and obviously in need of sleep and tenderness. As much as Gracen couldn't deny Jesse either of those things without hating himself, he also couldn't figure out why it was wanting to provide tenderness that bothered him so much. Eventually, he decided it was because his relationships generally didn't go well, but that was no reason to hold back. This time already seemed different. Jesse wasn't anything like Gracen's numerous exes. Jesse was someone… special -- to Gracen, anyway. As such, Gracen pushed aside his own concerns and pulled Jesse closer, falling asleep himself mere moments later, his breathing in synch with Jesse's soft, slow breaths. *** Oh, God. Heaven. Jesse wasn't even fully awake yet, but he was fairly sure he'd died and gone to heaven, he felt so comfortable on whatever cloud he was riding. He murmured softly, shifting and stretching a little as he held on to sleep, resisting its slow pull away. Then his hand struck something hard and Jesse's eyes flew open. Someone Special - 108

Not heaven. Gracen's bed. Why the fuck am I in Gracen's bed? And it's… shit, it's after three! I missed work! He groaned, scrubbing his dry hands over his face, and that was when it all came flooding back to him. Traffic. Jazz. Calling the mall. Trying to reach Gracen and taking a cab. He had only the fuzziest, vaguest recollection of getting to Gracen's and didn't know whether he'd undressed himself or if Gracen had done it for him, but he didn't much give a damn. He'd missed work because of something as stupid as being tired! Okay, maybe more than just tired, but what kind of man couldn't manage to push that aside when he had bills to pay? A weak one, Jesse told himself, his mental voice angry and disgusted. A weak, pathetic piece of shit who deserved to lose his house and be on the fucking street. If it were just him, he could deal with it. Jesse was sure of that much. It wasn't just him, though. There was Jazz to think about, too, and she deserved so much better than that. Just the thought of his sister's life and future being derailed was enough to make Jesse cry, and he wasn't a crier, damn it. "Hey!" Gracen sounded so happy that Jesse forced a smile onto his own lips as he sat up. "You're awake," Gracen added before laughing. "Well, obviously, right? How are you feeling? You look better, but you could probably sleep some more. It's only been six hours and you still look tired." "I thought you said I looked better," Jesse said, burying his darker emotions in the face of Gracen's kindness. Gracen chuckled and crawled onto the bed, sitting beside Jesse -- close enough for Jesse to feel the warmth Someone Special - 109

of his body radiating. "You do. When you got here, you looked like you needed a month's worth of sleep. Now you look like another week might be enough. Morning, baby." Jesse sighed a mostly happy sigh when Gracen leaned in and pressed a long, simple kiss to his lips. "Afternoon. I shouldn't have taken the day off, though. I have… never mind." "Bills to pay." Gracen nodded. "I know. But if you work yourself too hard, you'll get sick for real. Then you'd miss much more than just one day at your temporary, part-time job. You know I'm right." Yeah, Jesse did know that. He'd known it the first ten times Gracen had mentioned it since they'd started whatever the hell they were doing, and he still knew it. That didn't make it any easier to bear. It was only three and a half weeks. He should have been able to handle that long on short sleep. "But I need to leave Jazz in a good place, damn it," he snapped, unable to stop the words from pouring out. Whether it was because of the weariness he still felt, now that Gracen had pointed it out, or because he'd somehow decided that he really did trust Gracen, Jesse didn't know. "It's going to be bad enough for her when I lose it, even if she's out of law school by then! She'll need the house and the taxes are bad enough but the mortgage is even worse, and I need to pay off as much as I can before it's too late!" He was breathing hard by the time he managed to bite off his words, nearly biting his tongue off along with them. Jesse's heart was racing even as he realized what he'd done, and Gracen… God, Gracen looked confused and sort of frightened, but that was okay. Jesse was frightened, too. Saying things better kept private Someone Special - 110

was how it had started with his mother, though she'd been older than Jesse was then. "Oh, God. I. I have to go." He struggled to free himself of the sheets and blanket that were tangled around his legs, looking anywhere but at Gracen. He couldn't stand to see that scared look again and know he'd caused it. Couldn't stand to know it would only get worse as time went by. "I need to go," Jesse said again, finally getting one leg free. "No." Gracen sounded harsh, but his arms were gentle when they closed around Jesse from behind. Gentle but insistent, somehow, or maybe that was another sign; Jesse couldn't be sure. "No, Jesse. Just stop, okay? Calm down and tell me what's going on. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. We'll figure something out. Just… tell me what you're talking about. Where is it that you think you're going that will leave your sister alone? I… are you… sick? You have to tell me, okay? You're important to me. I want to help, whatever it is." "You want to help me?" Jesse laughed bitterly, still trying to free himself from Gracen's hold but not having any luck. "Okay, Mister big-shot-photographer! Build me a time machine and send me back to six years ago, so I can stop my mom from killing my dad, okay? Or better yet, send me back to twenty-six years ago. That way I could convince Dad to have kids with someone other than Mom! I wouldn't still be me, but I wouldn't be waiting for the schizophrenia to strike, either!" Gracen went entirely still then. Jesse felt it in the way the chest that had started to press against his back stopped getting closer but didn't pull away. The arms around him didn't loosen, but didn't tighten, either. "Oh." Someone Special - 111

It was barely a whisper, but Jesse heard it. Felt it brush against his neck, a subtle kiss of air. "Yeah," Jesse answered. "Oh. That's pretty much all there is to say. Oh, I come from damaged stock. Oh, chances are I'm going to end up just as crazy as my mom because it can be hereditary, once it shows up in a family. Oh, you need to just… let me go, Gracen. I can't do this, okay? I wish I could, but I can't. I just. Please, if you like me even a little, don't tell anyone. Jazz doesn't know. About the hereditary part, I mean. She knows exactly why Mom's locked up. I just never told her about that part, and… No one knows anymore. It was hard, right after it happened, but..." He swallowed hard, trying to allay the sudden queasiness he felt. "Please, Gracen. Keep my secret. I'll stay away from you from now on, I swear! I'll get Arma to make me a background elf or something so you won't even have to talk to me, most of the time." Jesse paused and took a deep breath, then went on in the echoing silence. "I shouldn't have asked you out in the first place; I know that! It was wrong and irresponsible, and I didn't know you'd turn out to be so… you! I knew you weren't like the guys I usually hook up with, but I didn't know how decent and nice and fucking kind you'd be and you just made me feel so special and I hadn't felt that way in a really long time, so I fucked up, Gracen! I fucked up, okay? I just wanted you so much and you seemed to like me, so I figured… where's the harm, right? I thought we'd spend a few weeks together and I'd have something to remember and hold close to me once the job ended. Something to remember until I can't anymore. Shit! I'm sorry! I'm such a fucking moron!" Gracen seemed to unfreeze then because his arms tightened around Jesse, and Jesse felt himself being Someone Special - 112

drawn back against the warm strength of Gracen's chest. His eyes closed, but he couldn't stop his body from feeling soft skin, or hearing less soft words. "You're right," Gracen said, each word separate and distinct at first, like Gracen was trying to choose them carefully even while he spoke. "You are a 'fucking moron,' Jesse." A light kiss touched Jesse's bare shoulder and Jesse gasped. "There are so many flaws in your logic, I don't even know where to start." Jesse didn't have any idea about how to react to that. Not just Gracen's words, but the way that Gracen was still holding him; holding him tighter, even. "You don't understand," he whispered, and Gracen snorted softly. "Right again, Jesse," Gracen said, though this time he sounded annoyed. But he was still holding on, and Jesse wasn't sure if that was good or bad. "I don't understand. I don't understand how you could think so little of me, I don't understand why you're screwing yourself because of something that might never happen, and I definitely don't understand how me caring about you -- wanting this thing between us to work -- could be a bad thing. Because I think you care about me just as much. I think you're scared to death because you know this isn't just a hook-up." Gracen sighed, his breath ruffling Jesse's hair, warm enough to make Jesse shiver. "And while we're on the subject of not understanding," Gracen went on, "what happens if it's not you that got the schizophrenic gene? God knows I'm not wishing ill on your sister, but --" "No." Jesse wasn't willing to hear it. "No. Jazz is fine. It's going to be me. It has to be me! Jazz is going to be a lawyer and she'll be fine, damn it! She has to be fine!" God, it felt like his heart was breaking on so many Someone Special - 113

levels. "Please, Gracen, just let me go! I can't. I can't do this! I can't!" "Hush," Gracen murmured, hands rubbing small circles over Jesse's chest that shouldn't have been soothing but were. "Hush, baby. You can. You're just scared. I get it, okay? I'm scared, too." Jesse 's eyes closed and a lump formed in his throat that he couldn't manage to swallow down. Of course Gracen was scared. Jesse couldn't blame him for that. Jesse would be scared, too, if he'd just found out he was dating someone who could go literally crazy at the drop of a hat and maybe kill him. Unless Gracen was already crazy, which was possible, really. Jesse couldn't think of any other reason why Gracen was still holding him instead of rushing him the fuck out of the apartment as fast as humanly possible. Gracen's version of insanity was obviously more benign than what Jesse was expecting to face himself, so Jesse let Gracen pull him back to the middle of the mattress. He kept his eyes closed while Gracen's arms opened, but Jesse couldn't help looking once Gracen had settled, that long, deeply red hair spread over him, teasing his skin with the silky texture. Gracen was looking up at him, Jesse saw. Gracen's cheek rested lightly on Jesse's chest and those pretty green eyes were staring right at him, holding his own. "It scares me that you could become schizophrenic," Gracen said, his voice level and blunt. "I'm not going to lie about that, baby. But it scares me more that you seem to think it's some weird sort of destiny. That it has to happen… and that I'm so fucking shallow that I'd ditch you just because of a maybe. Maybe there's a chance that you'll develop what your mom did, but you might not. Have you even considered that? What if the monster Someone Special - 114

in the closet turns out to be nothing but smoke and shadows?" Gracen smiled a little, his hand running slowly up and down Jesse's side, making Jesse's skin quiver. "What if the thing you're so afraid of never happens? How long are you willing to wait, Jesse? What if you get to forty and you're still waiting, working jobs you don't care about because you don't want to be irreplaceable? What if you hit fifty and you're still fine? Alone, but fine. Is it really worth denying yourself a life, just because you might end up with a disability that can usually be at least managed with medications?" Gracen's eyes bored into his so hard, Jesse thought he might go blind. "What if I give you what you've implied you want and dump you today… and you're not sick in five years, or ten, or thirty? What does that get either of us, other than a whole lot of wasted time when we could have been together, or at least time we could have used to discover whether we're as suited as I think?" God, Jesse really thought his heart was breaking, but he couldn't lie to Gracen. Not anymore. Even though he wanted to, he just couldn't. "My grandfather -- on Mom's side -- went crazy, too," he said past the lump that still lived in his throat. "He didn't hurt anyone, but he died when I was ten, and they found dead cats and parrots in a freezer in his garage. His house was full of old license plates and enough newspapers to start a thousand bonfires, and he'd apparently been wearing the same socks for over a month. They'd… God, the fabric at the top had dug into his flesh so much that new skin started to grow around the elastic. Tell me that doesn't mean anything. Why the fuck would you want me when I've got that kind of history? You can do better, Gracen. I'm… nothing, okay? Just let me go." Someone Special - 115

Gracen sighed and shook his head just enough that Jesse felt all that silken hair shift on his skin. "You're not 'nothing,' baby. Your granddad was old. Old people do crazy things sometimes. Maybe the cats and birds were your grandmother's and he couldn't stand to bury them or call the appropriate people when they died. Maybe he just didn't like throwing newspapers away, and the license plates could have been memories he didn't want to lose. Um, I don't know what to say about the socks because that's just weird. But the point is, you don't know anything for sure. Until you do, stop trying to break up with me, okay?" Jesse sighed yet again. He was starting to think it was some weird sort of fetish or something. "Fine. You won't let me, anyway." "Because you don't really want me to," Gracen said with a grin Jesse couldn't help mirroring. "Okay, whatever," he answered. "But if it turns out that I'm right -- and I am -- then you need to let me go. Soon." Gracen sat up and rolled his eyes. Jesse couldn't miss it; Gracen was so dramatic about it. "If you're right, we'll look into medications and doctors and treatments before I let you run away, baby. I. It's been a really long time since I've felt this way about anyone. Besides, you promised to come tree shopping with me and Alonzo on Sunday night. There's no way I'm going to let you bail out of that after you got Alonzo so curious about you this morning. He was the one who took your cab after you got here, by the way." Oh, God. He was screwed. Jesse just didn't know why he was so fine with that. He also didn't have a single clue about why he wasn't freaking out. Gracen Someone Special - 116

knew his secret. That should have mattered more. But it didn't. Jesse closed his eyes, trying to come up with the right words to thank Gracen for even listening. He didn't notice when he slipped into another bout of sleep before he could even open his eyes again.

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Chapter Nine It was easier for Gracen to find out where Jesse lived than it had apparently been for Jesse to get him a message, which was just wrong. In fact, he felt a little bit guilty about even looking for the information while Jesse was asleep in Gracen's bed, but not guilty enough not to do it. He was trying to help Jesse, after all, or at least help as much as he could. He couldn't deny that he'd had an oh, fuck moment when Jesse had mentioned his mother and the mental illness she suffered. Gracen wasn't proud of it, but it had happened. He'd definitely wondered what he'd gotten himself into and whether it was worth it, but the way Jesse had shivered in his arms, so very distressed, had destroyed that moment of self-interest better than anything Gracen might have told himself. He didn't love Jesse -- not yet -- but Gracen was sure that he could, if given the chance. Jesse was smart and funny and interesting. He was focused and determined and had a sense of family loyalty that Gracen not only respected but envied. Jesse still had family, in the person of his sister and, while Gracen wasn't going to tell the girl what was going on, he also needed to meet her. If he did end up loving Jesse as much as he suspected he would, Gracen wanted to be on good terms with the sister. Maybe even be friends with her. Hell, he'd need to be, considering how close Jesse and Jasmine seemed to be. It was getting close to five o'clock when Gracen pulled into the driveway of a house that was both bigger and more well-maintained than he'd expected. He wasn't Someone Special - 118

sure about why he'd thought the house would be small and ramshackle, but it probably had something to do with the fact that Jesse was working so hard at jobs that Gracen had assumed didn't pay very well. The house he'd just parked in front of wasn't at all what Gracen had pictured. For one thing, it had two storeys, which wasn't common in that part of town. It didn't have an actual garage, but that wasn't surprising. It did have a double car port, which was. The second floor had dormer windows -- also unusual for where the house was -- and while the architectural touches made it obvious that the house had been built at least forty years earlier, even the trim was in good shape, painted and bright, with cobalt blue shutters against lighter blue window casings that made the barely-blue paint on the rest of the house shine. Somehow, Gracen knew Jesse had been the one who'd done all that painting, too, and if he was right… Jesse could start his own house painting business and be doing better than he was with the three jobs, even with the economy fucked to hell and back. "I need to stop thinking about money," Gracen muttered to himself as he got out of his car. Except he couldn't, where Jesse was involved. Money -- or income, rather -- was something that mattered an awful lot to Jesse. Gracen wasn't able to ignore that, especially when he knew Jesse wouldn't let Gracen help out financially. It would be so much easier if Jesse would, but that wasn't going to happen, so Gracen tried to push it from his mind while he strode up the front walk and pressed the doorbell. There was music playing inside the house. Gracen could just barely hear it. It was enough to tell him that someone -- Jasmine, obviously -- was home. After Someone Special - 119

fifteen seconds or so, Gracen pressed again. Then again, still without even an acknowledgement that the ringing had been heard. Impatience warred with understanding, because while Gracen wanted to get inside Jesse's house, he also remembered being ten years younger and listening to music so loud that nothing could penetrate. He wasn't familiar with the song, but he was more than capable of recognizing the final chorus because it got more intense, though not louder. When it hit what he thought was the end, he started pushing the doorbell again, and once the music went silent, he hit it yet again. "Coming!" he heard, the voice so muted that he reevaluated how loud the music had been. Jesse's house was apparently built solidly, more so than those that were newer, and definitely more so than his own apartment where some nights he could hear one of his neighbors going down the hall to the elevator through the living room walls, the man walked so hard. "Who are you?" The same voice, but louder. Obviously coming from just inside the front door, and sounding suspicious as all hell. "Gracen," he answered. "I'm holding your brother captive, and I won't let him go until after I meet his infamous sister Jazz." He smiled at the peephole. "By which I mean he's asleep at my place, and I figured this was as good a time as any to swing by and say hello. I'm not really holding him hostage or anything." The door opened and a snort answered his words. Gracen barely noticed the sound, though. He was too busy taking in Jasmine's appearance. She looked an awful lot like Jesse, really. A couple inches shorter, but she had the same hazel eyes, though they looked a little bit suspicious rather than warm at the Someone Special - 120

moment. Her hair was longer, falling over her shoulders in waves that ended six or so inches below her breasts. She was slender and her skin was the same pale gold shade that Jesse's was in places Gracen wasn't comfortable thinking about in front of Jesse's sister, and if Jesse hadn't said she was younger, Gracen would have thought the two were fraternal twins. They even shared the same cheekbones and pouty lips. "So you're the new friend." She sounded confrontational, but Gracen wasn't going there. Not with Jesse's sister. "I'm the new boyfriend," he said, and God help him but he really felt like he was talking to Alonzo, somehow. "Maybe the last boyfriend, if things go well. And you're the sister. Jasmine. Sorry. Jazz, right? So, can I come in?" There was something comforting in the way Jasmine blushed before stepping back. Gracen didn't know what it was, but it was there. "Sorry," she said. "Yes. Come in. I just… I wasn't expecting to meet anyone Jesse was involved with. Why are you here?" It was both an easy question and a hard one, but Gracen had made up his mind. That being so, it was less difficult than it might have been to answer. "I really like your brother," he said simply as he followed her to the kitchen. "I think -- hope, really -that it'll turn into more than that soon. I figured we should meet and see whether we can stand each other before Jesse and I get so deep in that it would literally rip all of us apart emotionally if you and I hate each other." The last thing Gracen expected after saying it so bluntly was to have Jasmine turn and lean against the Someone Special - 121

counter, looking at him with eyes that were so similar to Jesse's, but so much sharper and harder. "Do you mean that?" she demanded, and Gracen nodded quickly. "I do," he said, just as quickly as his head had bobbed. "I would give anything to still have family, but I don't. You're Jesse's family and you're always going to be a part of his life. I wouldn't want anything else. And I can't say that I love him yet, but it feels like it's headed that way, so I need us to be at least friendly, even if we're never best friends. Does that make sense? At all?" Jasmine frowned slightly, but Gracen had seen that same look on Jesse's face before and it didn't always bode ill. "We're more or less joined at the hip," she said then. "Not in any weird sort of incestuous way because it's not like that, but most of the guys Jesse's spent time with have hated it." Gracen shrugged. "Like I said, I'm on my own. My parents are dead, and I'm an only child. I have a few cousins scattered around the world, but we're not close. If this thing with your brother works out and lasts long enough, I'll be happy to call you my sister, too. Or even just friend if it doesn't. Either way, Jesse's a special guy, and I'm not going to try to come between you. You're his family." "You say that now," Jasmine said, her naturallooking brows drawing down over her eyes. "I'm not sure you'll be so willing when he tells you about our parents." It seemed Jesse wasn't the only one with mommy issues. Gracen let his lips quirk into a bit of a smile as he leaned back against the closest kitchen counter, his hands loose but curled around the edge. "If you're talking about the thing where your mom killed your dad, Someone Special - 122

I already know. And just for the record, it sucks. But that has nothing to do with how I feel about your brother." Jasmine's gaze hardened even more. "Did he mention the part where she's crazy and in a facility for people like her for the rest of her life? Did he mention the fact that we're likely to turn into our mother at some point? Because we are. Oh, I go to school and do my best. I study hard and get scholarships and grants, just on the off chance that I won't end up like her, but it could happen. Now tell me you're cool with being involved with a guy who not only brings a sister into the mix, but a sister who might go nuts someday." Gracen pushed away from the counter and strode quickly across the kitchen floor, skirting the table. He stood less than a foot away from Jasmine and met her angry stare. He had a feeling the anger was defensive rather than directed at him, which helped. "Okay," he said reasonably. "I'm cool with being involved with a guy who might have some issues later. And I'm cool with him having a sister who might need some assistance, too. Because Jesse did mention all that about your mom. He even said some stuff about your granddad. But he doesn't think you know about the genetic factor, so maybe you guys need to talk." For the second time that day, Gracen found himself holding a shuddering Munro. Unlike Jesse, Jasmine was clearly willing to cry, though. She did it well, too. No overwrought histrionics, just quiet sobs and copious tears that soaked into Gracen's shirt. She even looked good when she pulled back a while later, not blotchy or red.

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"Let me show you around the house," she said, and while she sounded a bit congested, Gracen wasn't going to say so. "Cool," he answered, pretending the whole breakdown had never happened. He didn't make any sort of comment when she took his hand and led him through every area. Jesse's bedroom wasn't any sort of revelation, aside from the trophy for Debate Club from Freshman year. Even that wasn't as surprising as it might have been. The bedroom Jesse and Jasmine's parents had shared was clearly unused, as was the master bath. Jasmine's room was more of a mess than Gracen thought a girl's room would be, but that was fine. She was in college and maybe she didn't have time to straighten up. It wasn't dirty, after all, just messy. Lived in. Whatever. It was only when Jasmine led him downstairs again that Gracen really noticed the pictures on the walls -Jesse and Jasmine, much, much younger -- with a blond, blue-eyed man who shared their cheekbones. Jesse even had that same chin. An equally blonde and blue-eyed woman stood beside him, substantially shorter than the man, but looking just as happy. Both adults were pale while both children were slightly gold-tinged, like Jesse and Jasmine had been outside more than the adults. It was odd. "Who are they?" he asked and Jasmine turned away. "Our parents," she said. "Back in the good old days. So do you want something to drink or do you need to go?" Gracen looked at his watch. Oh, shit, he definitely needed to go. He needed to wake Jesse up if Jesse wasn't already awake, and get the guy to his night job. Someone Special - 124

"I need to get home so Jesse doesn't sleep through the night. Shit! He said his car was at the mall. Or I think he did. Fuck, he needs all the sleep he can get and taking him there will just fuck things up that much more!" Jasmine laughed and it sounded so much like Jesse's laugh that Gracen smiled, unwillingly. "He's probably awake already," she said with a grin. "And the mall is between here and your place, right?" Gracen nodded. "Good," Jasmine went on. "I'll ride with you. We'll pick up the car. I'll call a friend of mine to meet me at your place and he'll drop me home later. Easy enough." Gracen wasn't entirely sure that Jasmine's plan would meet with Jesse's approval, but what Jesse didn't know wouldn't hurt any of them and it was just one night. Still… "I'll need to meet this 'friend' of yours," Gracen announced once he and Jasmine were in his car and strapped in. "I can't just let you run off with someone I've never met. Your brother would kill me if I did." Jasmine groaned. "Oh, God help me. It's already like I have two brothers!" Gracen smirked. Not a lot, but yeah. Looking after Jasmine -- Jazz, he reminded himself -- was almost as important as looking after Jesse. Not quite, but close. She was the most important person in Jesse's world, after all. Gracen figured she could be the second most important in his own, if all went well. *** Jesse woke for the second -- or was it the third -time, feeling like he was on drugs. Not that he'd actually done any drugs since his mother had gone crazy enough to do what she'd done, but he remembered the few times Someone Special - 125

he'd smoked pot well enough to identify the way he was feeling right then as unnatural. Possibly just unusual. Whatever. He felt floaty, sort of, and weird. Then he looked at the clock on the table beside Gracen's bed and groaned. No wonder he felt strange. Between the sleep he'd gotten earlier and the additional rest he'd managed after his so-stunning breakdown, his body was probably in shock from sheer inactivity. Jesse honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd slept for nine hours in less than two days. He could barely make himself sit up at first, every muscle and organ seeming to plead with him for just a few more minutes. He didn't have a few more minutes, though. He needed to get dressed and get to the car, which should be at the mall, assuming Jazz had done what he'd asked; then haul ass to Welling's. He could live with blowing off his temp job for a day, but he couldn't afford to miss either of his real jobs. Not by any meaning of the word afford. Gracen wasn't in bed with him, Jesse noticed next, and while that was a little bit disappointing, it was also a good thing. Jesse wasn't sure he would have been able to leave the soft sheets and fluffy pillows behind if Gracen had been there, multiplying the existing temptation to lie back down by at least a hundred. His lower back complained as he climbed from the bed, but Jesse ignored it and made his way to the bathroom. He washed his face and used Gracen's toothbrush, just as he'd done the last couple times he'd stayed over -- Gracen had suggested it that first morning, saying he wasn't worried about sharing since they'd had each other's cocks in their mouths and a toothbrush was far less intimate than that. A quick scrub Someone Special - 126

with a washcloth and a careful pass of disposable razor later, Jesse was as awake as he was going to get. He picked his clothes up from the bedroom floor and frowned, realizing he'd need to take a cab to the mall just to make up the time he'd need to drive home for his work clothes. The idea made him cringe, but there was no help for it. He couldn't show up at the grocery store in jeans and a t-shirt, damn it. It was only when he was fully clothed and had opened the door to step out of the bedroom that Jesse heard the voices. They were soft enough that he thought they were intended not to wake him, but surely Gracen had heard the water running in the bathroom, so that didn't make any sense. He considered that maybe Gracen and whoever -- a woman, it sounded like -- were in the living room, but the farther Jesse got down the hallway, the more sure he became that the voices were centered in the kitchen. Presumably along with Gracen and… someone who sounded an awful lot like Jazz. He paused outside the door, not because he was trying to listen in but because he was trying to come up with some reason why his sister would be at Gracen's apartment, not to mention how. Jesse knew for a fact that he hadn't mentioned Gracen's last name to Jazz, so the idea that she was there was completely at odds with what he knew he was hearing, and what he was hearing just didn't make any sense. "… birth certificates?" That was Gracen. Even with the confusion racing through him, that voice had something going tight in the pit of Jesse's stomach. "Of course we do." It still sounded like Jasmine. "There's a whole file at the house, full of important papers and stuff. Birth certificates, the death certificate Someone Special - 127

for our dad, passports… you name it. Do you really think…" "What the fuck is going on here?" Oh. That was his own voice, Jesse realized. And apparently he'd burst through the kitchen doorway, because he for damned sure wasn't in the hall anymore. His eyes rested on Gracen first, and Jesse frowned when Gracen blushed. Then Jesse looked at the other person. It took a few seconds for him to recognize her because he still didn't believe that Jazz had found Gracen when Jesse hadn't been able to himself. "What the fuck is going on?" he said again, but this time he sounded just as confused as he was. "Jasmine? Gracen?" No, he sounded more than confused, Jesse realized, he sounded scared. As though his two worlds had just collided, which he supposed they had, in a sense. "What the fuck?" "Oh, good! You're awake!" Jazz sounded ridiculously perky, and that meant Jesse wasn't going to like whatever she said next. He knew that much from an entire lifetime's experience. "Guess what? Your boyfriend has a theory and so far it sounds like a good one. So I called you in sick for the grocery store and we're all going back to the house so we can see whether the documents we have can prove him wrong." Gracen cleared his throat. "Or right," Jazz went on. "He might be right. If he is, it means we're both idiots, but I can live with that." Well, that was probably as much of a straight answer as he was going to get from his sister, so Jesse turned to Gracen. "Care to say something that won't still have me asking 'what the fuck' again? And did you just say you called me in sick at Welling's?" His stare darted back to Jazz. "You can't do that! You know as well as I do that I need to work tonight! We're barely --" He cut himself Someone Special - 128

off. "I need to go in, Jasmine," he said, instead of talking about money yet again. She already knew their situation and while Jesse couldn't remember whether he'd told Gracen about their dire financial straits earlier, if he hadn't, he wasn't going to do it right then, by accident. Jazz rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you can miss one night. You haven't missed a single shift in four years, Jess. You're allowed to take a sick day every now and then." "Wait," Gracen interjected, and his brow was furrowed when Jesse's eyes tracked to him again. "You've been working there for four years and you've never taken a sick day? What about vacations?" Jesse shrugged, not sure what that had to do with anything. He was about to say just that when Jazz spoke for him, bitch that she was. "Oh, please. Jesse doesn't even know what 'vacation' means. And don't get me started on 'sick' because he went to work last year with a hundred-and-two-degree temperature. For three days in a row!" Gracen stood, pushing away from the kitchen table and approaching Jesse. Jesse wouldn't admit it, even to himself, but when Gracen's hands rested on his shoulders, Jesse felt… grounded. More real. Even looking down so far that he was seeing the small indentation of Gracen's navel under the t-shirt Gracen wore, Jesse felt more grounded. "You do know that every year, you accumulate sick days and vacation days. If you don't use them, they're supposed to pay you the monetary equivalent." What? No, that couldn't possibly be right. "I don't know if they carry over from year to year, but if you're a full-time employee, you're entitled to compensation for those days when you're sick or on holiday. I know it's factored into Someone Special - 129

payroll for my studio -- five days each, sick and vacation -- and I'm sure it applies to a chain like Welling's, after being employed for the first year." God, he was an idiot. A moron, just like he'd thought. He'd just been so happy to get the job at the grocery that he hadn't even looked at the employment package, aside from checking to see what parts of the uniform they gave him and which parts he'd needed to buy. It sounded like he'd passed on two week's pay a year for the last three years, and if that was so… Well, he still would have worked just as hard and not used any of those days, but he wouldn't have needed to have seasonal jobs to make the yearly taxes. He could have just gone about his business with Welling's and the paper and not needed to try to get used to a month or more of a third job each year, and Jesse felt like the stupidest man who'd ever lived. Even more so when he finally forced himself to look up from Gracen's stomach. He couldn't quite meet those sharp, green eyes yet, but he strongly suspected that they would be sympathetic if he did, and sympathy was far too close to pity for Jesse's liking. "Okay, fine!" Jesse snarled, pissed off at the idea that Gracen might be pitying him. "So I'm taking a sick day. Whatever! So what the fuck is this great idea -- or theory -- that means I need to miss work?" God, he hoped it was something stupid. He really, really did. At least then, Jesse would feel vindicated for being angry. "Oh, you tell him." Jazz was laughing on the inside. Jesse could tell by her tone of voice. It was her I-knowsomething-you-don't-know tone, and while Jesse had hated it when they were kids, he hadn't heard it in ages. It was strange to discover that he'd missed it. "I'm far too invested to say it in any sort of reasonable way." Someone Special - 130

Gracen's eyes rolled slightly. Not a lot, but enough that Jesse could see what he thought was affectionate tolerance of Jazz's bitchy ways. "Fine," Gracen said, looking over his shoulder, probably at Jazz. Then those green eyes met Jesse's again. "This is by no means a sure thing, okay?" Gracen looked sure anyway, so Jesse just nodded. "I just… I went by your house while you were sleeping. I wanted to meet your sister, especially after what you told me. But I saw the pictures. The ones on the wall of you, Jasmine, and your parents, and something didn't seem right." Well, duh. Their father was dead and their mother was crazy. How could that ever seem like anything but wrong? "So what?" Jesse asked. It was a good question, considering. Gracen frowned slightly and gripped Jesse's arms tightly, shaking him just a little. "Come on, Jesse. Don't 'so what' me. Just think about those pictures." Jesse still didn't get it. "Oh, for…!" Gracen shook his head. "When's the last time you saw two pale, blonde, blueeyed parents with two darker-skinned, brown-haired kids with hazel eyes? I mean, genetics can be funky, but that combination, having the same result two times? That makes it a hundred percent, and that's incredibly unlikely." Jesse wasn't sure what Gracen was trying to say, but he knew one thing for sure. "We're not adopted. I've seen our birth certificates and our folks are listed on them." Jazz laughed. "Yeah, and even your boyfriend says we both look a lot like Dad, Jess. But do either of us really look like Mom? I mean, I never even considered it until Gracie said something, but I can't see it." Someone Special - 131

"Don't call me Gracie," Gracen snapped, but there was something in his tone that told Jesse Gracen was already reconciled to Jazz calling him whatever she chose. "I mean it, Jasmine." Well, that might work. "So we're going back to your house," Gracen went on, his eyes and grip on Jesse going softer, gentler. "We're going to look at whatever documents you guys have, and then I'm going to get Alonzo to give me the number of a friend of his. She's a P.I. and she'll be able to pursue whatever we find. Assuming we find anything at all, which we might not." Gracen bit his own lip and Jesse wanted to volunteer for the job, but it wasn't the right time. He could bite Gracen's lip later. "I could be wrong," Gracen added in a whisper so soft, Jesse knew Jazz couldn't hear it. "I don't want to be, but I could." That was the part that actually had Jesse felling hopeful, for some bizarre reason. The fact that Gracen was admitting the theory wasn't fact took it beyond the boyfriend trying to find some way to soothe him, not that Jesse had ever had a boyfriend even try such a thing. Then again, he'd never had a boyfriend who knew about his family, either. Even if he had, though, Jesse was sure none of them would have bothered to do anything but run away, fast and far. It was what he'd expected of Gracen, after all, and Gracen was far and away the best man Jesse had ever known. "Okay," Jesse said, still staring into Gracen's wide, green eyes. "I guess we should go to my place so you can either prove or disprove your hypothesis. Since I apparently have sick leave and all." Gracen leaned closer and Jesse didn't care that his sister was there. He let Gracen's lips meet his own and even participated in the slow, easy kiss. Someone Special - 132

Jazz had something to say, of course, but Jesse wasn't paying attention. He wasn't paying attention so much, he decided to ride with Gracen back to the house. He tried to ignore the hope surging within him, because if Gracen was right, it would make things so much easier. But if Gracen was wrong, that very hope would make things worse when it proved to be misbegotten. It could go either way, really, but Jesse truly wanted to trust in Gracen. He wanted to believe, damn it, but that could easily end up being the worst thing of all.

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Chapter Ten Gracen frowned, even as he used his chopsticks to dig into the very bottom of the carton of General Tso's chicken, looking for just one more nugget of crunchy batter, rather than the actual batter-coated chicken bits. He didn't find any, though, and set the container aside with an even deeper frown. "Poor baby," Jasmine said, happily swirling lo-mein with a fork. "No more crunchy, spicy bits of entirely non-nutritional, deep-fried garbage left? Sucks being you. Want some Szechuan green beans?" Ugh. What the hell was he thinking, getting all invested in a guy whose sister was a ball-buster? Then Jesse chimed in. "Leave him alone, Jazz. Or do I need to mention your odd love of cheesy grits with enough butter to float a boat? Or your Lucky Charms addiction, for that matter." "Hey! Lucky Charms are magically delicious!" Jasmine still stuffed the forkful of lo-mein into her mouth, though, so that was good. Gracen didn't actually mind that she was mouthy, if he had to be honest. He just wasn't used to having anyone but Alonzo -- and Jasmine was about as far from Alonzo as anyone could get -- call him out on anything. He couldn't even say Jasmine was wrong. He did like things that were bad for him from a nutritional standpoint. He tried not to go overboard too often, though. "Actually, I'd love some Szechuan green beans. The sesame seeds are crunchy." Gracen grinned, then Someone Special - 134

grinned even more when Jazz shoved the container closer while still chewing her noodles and veg. His grin started to feel like a permanent expression when Jesse leaned against his side and murmured "Thanks for putting up with her," but what else could Gracen do? Jasmine clearly loved her brother and Gracen was the last person who would ever try to come between them. Besides, Jazz wasn't exactly a bitch, she was just ballsy and protective and kind of bold. Gracen respected that. "Fuck it," Gracen murmured back. "I like her. She's a fan of Lucky Charms. They really are magically delicious! And she's going to be a fabulous lawyer someday, too." Assuming she decided to stick with law once they figured out whether Gracen's thoughts were more than wishful thinking. He'd been so sure, earlier, but right then? Well, they'd gotten to the Munro house, and Gracen had started second guessing himself. Maybe there was a bit of the blonde woman in Jesse's earlobes. In Jasmine's brows. The idea of food had let him put off exploring the possibilities for sure. The fact that neither Jesse nor Jasmine had pushed to get right to it implied that they felt the same reluctance, too. Eventually, there was nothing else for it. Gracen felt like he would literally explode if he even tried to eat another bite. Jesse seemed to be in a similar state, though he was still poking around in one of the carry-out containers with a plastic fork. Jasmine, on the other hand, was sorting their trash, clearly trying to figure out whether the containers would count as paper or plastic once they were rinsed out. "Okay," Gracen said with a sigh, "I guess we should do this, right?" Someone Special - 135

He was looking at Jesse again, so he saw the slight grimace that crossed those perfect lips as Jesse let go of the fork, dropping it into the container of… whatever. "I guess," Jesse answered, sounding less than enthusiastic. "I'll just take everything into the kitchen and get it--" "No." Gracen said it bluntly as he turned his gaze to Jasmine. "It can go to the kitchen. I'm even happy to help with that." He gathered up a few items to prove it and stood, leaving the couch and Jesse behind him for the moment. "This isn't just about Jesse, and you know it, Jasmine. So we'll get everything to the kitchen and you'll get that file you mentioned, and then we'll all figure it out. Together. You've spent the last six years pretending you didn't know what was going on with Jesse. It'll only be worse if you keep pretending." Jesse made a sound Gracen couldn't qualify and Jasmine echoed it, though softer and in a less deep tone. Whatever it was, Gracen felt rather like he'd kicked a couple of puppies, but he didn't let that stop him. "If I'm right, you can both stop worrying about any genetic predisposition to schizophrenia. If I'm wrong, you're no worse off than you were before. And I'm still not going anywhere." Gracen could have left it there but he needed to be honest. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep. "Well, I'm not going anywhere yet. I've never had anyone in my life who was mentally ill, so I can't swear it won't be too much for me, but I don't think it will. Either way, we won't know anything until we actually look at some paperwork, so maybe we can bypass this whole 'staring and bitching and avoiding' thing and see what, if anything, we can actually find out." Twenty minutes later, they were sitting around the same table they'd eaten on, though this time what was Someone Special - 136

spread out before them were documents of various sorts. Jesse and Jasmine's birth certificates, which named Kristine Munro, nee Martis, as their mother, had already been examined. The death certificate for their father was in front of Gracen, listing Kris Munro as the decedent's wife. Nothing leaped out at him, so maybe it really was possible for two blond, blue-eyed people to have two dark-haired, hazel-eyed, darker-skinned kids; Gracen couldn't swear it was impossible. Just because it seemed unlikely, well… Martis sounded Greek to him, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe he'd dated someone with that surname or something. Maybe Kris Munro -- and Gracen was having really weird Charlie's Angels flashbacks, from the old TV show his father had been addicted to on VHS -- had been part Greek and it had only shown itself in her children. It could be, he figured. He really didn't know enough about genetics to make anything like a definitive guess. "What about the stuff from the newspapers?" he asked, as a last-ditch effort. "Articles, your father's obituary, any of that." Jasmine perked up a little. "I have everything on my laptop. Give me a minute and I'll be able to show you, okay? I just need to grab it and the extension cord. There aren't any outlets close enough in here." She nearly ran from the room, looking far more excited than Gracen could figure. "She really wants you to be right," Jesse said quietly, sounding so defeated that Gracen didn't know what to say. "She wants all of this -- not you, but everything that's happened for the last six years -- to be a bad dream. I'm not sure whether I hate you more for giving us hope or for being wrong, Gracen. And it sucks Someone Special - 137

because I don't want to hate you. I wouldn't if it was just me you told about your stupid fucking idea, but you told Jazz, too. You told her exactly what I asked you to keep to yourself. Now it'll prey on her mind. Every time she has to make a decision, she'll wonder whether it's a good choice or something that's based on the crazy. Thanks for that." Gracen didn't know what he might have said to that because Jasmine showed up then to speak her own piece. Not being an idiot, Gracen chose to retreat. He left the room and entered the kitchen, then looked inside the refrigerator and pulled out a few lemons, limes, and oranges. Then he checked the cupboards and found enough tea to beg a sinking in Boston Harbor. Iced tea would be good. It would be even better because it would keep him from being in the dining room with Jesse and Jasmine while they worked their shit out. Gracen was sure of it. He wasn't as sure, less than five minutes later, when Jasmine came looking for him. "We need you," she stated, and if she'd said I rather than we, Gracen was sure he would have ignored her and kept making iced tea. It was the only other thing his father had ever prepared, aside from the grilled cheeses, though Dad had only done so on the nights Gracen's mom had been working the grill. He turned off the fire under the pot of water and tea bags, though the water had started to steam, so maybe the iced tea would be okay after steeping for however long. "Fine," he answered, and while Gracen felt a little bit like a child on his way to the principal's office, he still followed Jazz from the kitchen. "I'm sorry," Jesse said, standing up and moving around the table. Gracen couldn't help but notice how Someone Special - 138

smoothly Jesse moved. "I'm sorry," Jesse said again, his arms wrapping around Gracen's shoulders, then sliding down to worm under Gracen's arms and clasp his waist. "You already knew I was a moron, so it shouldn't surprise you that I'm still beyond stupid." God, Gracen wanted to pull away, but he also didn't want anything like that. "I swear I'll trust you from now on," Jesse muttered, his mouth so close to Gracen's neck that Gracen felt Jesse's lips moving. "I'll trust you with my life." Jasmine, who had apparently been standing by during his and Jesse's little moment, snorted in a surprisingly ladylike fashion. "You two can get a room later. For now, uncouple. I have all the stuff you wanted, Gracen, but I don't see how it can help. That's your job as fresh eyes, so at least stop groping my brother and take a look, okay?" As though Gracen was there for any reason other than to find out as much as he could about Jesse's situation. Please. Gracen released Jesse. Slowly, granted, but they had all night. Then it occurred to Gracen that all night would be longer if he looked at whatever Jasmine was trying to show him, and that was enough to have him sitting down to look at the files about Jesse and Jasmine's mother and her arrest and the plea bargain she'd made, thanks to her public defender. It made for interesting reading, really. It was only when Gracen went back and looked at the initial article in the newspaper that he started to get excited, and not in the sexual way. He flipped between that report and the one that had been sixteen pages further back the next day -- it wasn't exactly news when the perpetrator had been caught with the murder weapon Someone Special - 139

-- and knew. He'd need that P.I. friend of Alonzo's to be a hundred percent sure and prove it, but Gracen knew, deep down inside. He jumped up from his chair and reeled in a circle, then grabbed Jesse and dragged him to his feet, kissing him roughly because Gracen couldn't contain himself. Jesse kissed him back, though Gracen thought -possibly imagined-- he felt some hesitation. "You're no more likely to become schizophrenic than anyone else in the world," he announced gleefully, his hands tightening on Jesse's back. "I can't prove it yet, but you and Jazz are about as likely to go that sort of crazy as I am. I'm sure enough that if my parents were still alive, I'd want you to meet them." God, that was true. Gracen thought his folks would have loved Jesse. They would probably have been a little concerned about the age difference, but when it really came down to it… Jesse had been dealing with more shit than Gracen had ever known existed, and had been doing it as well as possible. The age difference was purely chronological, not emotional. Gracen really wanted to have the chance to show Jesse what it was like to be twenty-five, even from the perspective of almost thirty-two. Seven years wasn't that much, after all. Jesse made a sound that might have been either a sigh or a moan; Gracen wasn't sure which. "So you're not really sure," Jesse said, and Gracen heard something surprisingly like a growl leave his own lips. "I'm sure," Gracen rumbled. "I just can't prove it yet. Give me a day or two." His mouth found Jesse's again, and Gracen deliberately ignored the sound of Jasmine snorting for possibly the fiftieth time. He was too busy tasting Jesse's Someone Special - 140

mouth again. Even a few minutes was too long to go without. *** By Sunday, there was still no news from the P.I. Gracen knew, and Jesse was doing his best not to stress out over it. It wasn't easy -- mostly because he wanted Gracen to be right so badly, while at the same time wanting Gracen to be wrong. Jesse knew that was weird, but he couldn't deny it. He would feel better and safer if Gracen was right, but that would mean Jesse's father had lied to him his entire life, and to Jazz, too. Jesse wasn't sleeping much, either. He found himself lying awake during his sparse free hours, wondering what reason there could possibly be for a father to lie to his kids. No matter which angle he tried to see things from, he just couldn't find a good enough reason; especially when his and Jazz's mother had started to act a fair bit unhinged even before she'd truly lost herself. Jesse wanted to believe that his father would have said something then, just enough to make it clear that Jesse and Jazz didn't need to worry about following the same path of mental illness their mother had been on. Even so, Jesse couldn't deny that Gracen was right. On reflection -- and with many, many hours of staring at the photos of his parents -- Jesse truly couldn't see any real resemblance between either himself or Jazz and Kris Munro. "Hey, that was the last of them," Arma said from right beside him, and Jesse jumped a little. "And welcome back to planet Earth, Elf Jesse! The weather's real nice here!" She smiled and tapped one long nail against his chin. "I don't know what's up with you, Someone Special - 141

sweetie, but you've been off your game all day. Is there anything I can do to help?" Jesse found himself swallowing hard to keep grateful tears from forming in his eyes. Arma barely even knew him, but she'd already done so much, whether she knew it or not. She'd offered him a good, regular job with somewhat normal hours, and she seemed to actually care about him. That wasn't something Jesse was used to, and especially not from people he worked for. "I'm sorry," Jesse answered, once the threatening tears faded away. "I have some family stuff going on. I didn't mean to let it affect my work, though. I'll do better next time. Promise." Arma smiled again and shook her head. "You were fine, Jesse. I doubt anyone else noticed, and the kids sure didn't. I get 'family stuff,' okay? I just wanted to be sure nobody was giving you a hard time because you were sick the other day. This is a part-time, temporary job, but some of the elves can be cruel, and I know for a fact that several of them noticed that it was both you and our favorite photographer who were missing in action." She grimaced. "The guy who worked for him was kind of a jerk. He treated all the elves like slaves, so I was worried that they might be resentful about your relationship. And speaking of Michael… he's already changed and heading this way, so I'll be going." She patted his hand and strolled away with a wave for Gracen. It actually took Jesse a minute to remember who Michael was. He'd fallen out of the habit of calling Gracen by that name. "Hey," Jesse said, smiling as much as he could when Gracen approached. "You're not in your costume!" Not that he minded. Gracen looked about as good as anyone Someone Special - 142

could in the tights and so on. Jesse was used to Gracen wearing the Elf to and from work on the weekends, but he did prefer Gracen in street clothes. He liked Gracen even better without any clothing at all, but they were in public, so that wasn't going to happen. Even if Gracen had been willing, Jesse wasn't the sort to want his… boyfriend -- god, Gracen was really his boyfriend -running around naked. Gracen chuckled and stopped right in front of Jesse. Close enough that Jesse could smell the subtle scent of man coming from him. "Alonzo gets weirded out if I'm wearing my elf-suit when we go tree shopping. I've learned to accommodate him in this one way." Gracen's grin turned into a small smirk. "I think he worries that any women there might see us together and think he's gay, too." Right. Tree shopping with Gracen's friend-slashagent. Jesse had almost forgotten about that. At least, he'd done his best to forget about it. There wasn't any graceful way of getting out of it, of course, which was exactly why Jesse had spent the entire day pretending it wasn't going to happen, even though he'd known it would. He didn't even know why he was so worried about it, aside from the fact that Alonzo had seen Jesse at his worst already. According to Gracen, and Jesse had no reason to doubt him, Alonzo was the one who had pulled Jesse -- possibly drooling-Jesse, he'd been so exhausted -- from the taxi outside Gracen's building. That didn't count as actually meeting, as far as Jesse was concerned, but who knew whether Alonzo thought the same? Jesse couldn't say that, of course. Not without sounding needy and insecure. He might actually be both those things, but that didn't mean he wanted to sound like it. Someone Special - 143

"In that case," Jesse answered after a few seconds, during which Gracen started to get that questioning look he always got when Jesse was quiet too long, "I'll go change. See you in five, okay?" Jesse almost leaned in to kiss Gracen, only remembering at the last moment that they were right there in Santa's Workshop, and two male elves sharing a kiss -- even if one of them was in civvies -- might not be the best idea. "Um, be right back." Gracen grinned. "You can kiss me in the car, baby." On the one hand, it was kind of cool that Gracen knew him well enough to understand what the lean-inand-sway-away meant. On the other, Jesse was a little bit worried that Gracen did know him that well. If Gracen was wrong about Jesse's genes… but Jesse wasn't going to think about that. Not then. He was going to finish getting changed and go looking for a tree with Gracen. He would take whatever lumps Gracen's friend Alonzo wanted to dish out, and try to make a better impression than drooling with exhaustion could have made. *** Forty minutes into tree shopping, Gracen wasn't so sure that introducing Jesse and Alonzo had been a good idea, even though it hadn't been his idea. There was just something about the way Alonzo kept watching Jesse -staring at Jesse, if Gracen was being honest -- that was more than a little bit disturbing. If Gracen hadn't been entirely sure of Alonzo's heterosexuality, he would have thought Alonzo was cruising Jesse, that stare was so intent. Someone Special - 144

"How about this one?" Jesse called from a good fifteen feet away, and Gracen laughed as Jesse gestured at the tree in question as though it were a game show prize. "It's not too tall, but not too short," Jesse went on, addressing the complaints Alonzo had made with regards to the last five trees. "It's full and green, not a brown needle to be seen, and it smells piney, just like a Christmas tree should!" "Jesus," Alonzo muttered. "I almost want to buy it just because he likes it. Seriously, Gracie, I can see why you're so into him. Now that he's awake and not acting like a zombie, I mean. He's… I don't know. Appealing?" Alonzo shuddered just a bit. "Damn. Tell me he has a sister, or at least a young, hot aunt. That would be cool." Those words were a relief. Not because Gracen was worried about losing Jesse to Alonzo, but because they meant there wouldn't be any extra awkwardness between him and his friend. It didn't happen often, but Gracen had seen usually straight men become sexually interested in gay men before. Those relationships, if they even happened, tended not to last, though, and usually sent the straight partner in the equation running back to women like their tails had been scalded… until those same straight men started looking for some man-sex on the side, and that just got messy. "He has a sister," Gracen said dutifully. "But she's way too young for you and far too smart to get involved with a money-grubbing asshole." He smirked at Alonzo. "Besides, she's starting law school next fall. The last thing she needs right now is a man." Though Gracen figured Jazz could do worse. Alonzo wasn't a bad man, after all. Just… No. Not even close to right for Jesse's sister. No chance. "I'm pretty sure she's a lesbian," Gracen lied. Someone Special - 145

Alonzo finally stopped looking at Jesse, much to Gracen's relief. Alonzo's loud "Man! That's hot!" stole the relief away before it had a chance to settle. "For you or for Gracen?" Gracen blinked, but he was smiling widely as he met Jesse's eyes. "Well, if Alonzo doesn't want it, it'll be perfect in my living room," Gracen said sincerely. "By the way, Alonzo was asking if you had a sister." He left out the part about Alonzo implying Jesse was hot. The last thing Gracen needed was that sort of weirdness between his boyfriend -- lover, as far as Gracen was concerned -- and friend. "I told him you do, and about her ways." Gracen raised and lowered one brow and gave what he hoped was a nearly invisible shake of his head. "Um…" Jesse started to say, and fortunately -- for once -- Alonzo interrupted. "I know," Alonzo said. "She's into women. Gracie told me. But is that a hard rule for her or… okay, wait. Let's just pretend I never even started asking that about her because she's your sister and I'd want to kick your ass if you asked me that about my sister, so… okay. I'm just gonna go find someone so I can buy that tree." Gracen stared after Alonzo's retreating back, then sniggered hard enough that he felt like Snidely Whiplash from the old Dudley Do-right cartoons. "Sorry," he gasped, barely able to meet Jesse's eyes. "Sorry, but he sounded so intent on meeting Jazz that… and he's so not the right kind of guy for her, but he can be stubborn, and…" Jesse frowned but Gracen could see those pretty, pouty lips twitching. "So you told him she was a lesbian? And his first reaction was to ask me…" Those lips quivered. "To ask me if she… oh, God, if Jazz is fully committed to it or is just waiting for a… fuck, a Someone Special - 146

man?" The lip-quiver turned into a full-on grinning laugh. "Dude! Your friend Alonzo is definitely straight! No man who was bisexual would ever even think that, much less say it!" "I know!" Gracen gasped between laughs. "It's so… fucking… sad!" He wasn't sure of how it had happened because Gracen didn't remember moving, but he also didn't recall seeing Jesse move. All he could say for certain was that they'd somehow ended up holding on to each other, supporting each other so neither of them fell while they laughed. Eventually their laughter slowed, though, and while Gracen was reluctant to release his lover, he forced himself to do exactly that. He took great joy in the fact that Jesse seemed just as loath to loosen their clench. "So," Gracen said when he could speak without having his voice shake wildly, "I guess Alonzo's got his tree situation sorted. And since you found such a perfect one for him, how do you feel about finding one for us?" It was only after the words left his mouth, and Jesse blinked thrice that Gracen realized what he'd said. "I meant… I obviously need a tree, and I'm hoping you and Jazz will spend Christmas Eve and maybe Christmas Day with me, so we need a tree for all of us. Assuming you don't have other plans, of course. Or if you want a tree for your place and don't mind me coming over, that would still be for all of us, and… and I'm just making it worse. Fuck!" Gracen frowned as a young family stared, then the man literally picked up his daughter and walked swiftly away, his wife hustling along in his wake. Jesse blinked once more, then quirked a little halfsmile and turned away. "I did see another tree. It's way Someone Special - 147

better than the one your friend just ran off to buy, too." He started to walk, and Gracen couldn't do anything but follow. "I sort of figured your Alonzo would jump on the first good tree we found," Jesse added. "That's why I showed you guys that one first, instead of the one that'll look perfect in your place. Amazing what a ten-minute run through the entire lot can do, isn't it?" Actually, it was. Jesse had ditched him -- and Alonzo -- for a little while when they'd all arrived. Gracen had assumed Jesse was looking for a restroom, mostly because when a guy said something that suggested he had important business to take care of while at a ball game, cook out, or Christmas Tree lot, it usually involved finding somewhere to go. That Jesse had used that time to scope out the best trees was unexpected, but very, very cool. Gracen followed the lure of Jesse's… everything, and when Jesse stopped to do that whole tah-dah game-show thing again, Gracen's eyes widened. "You're right," he said, moving closer to both Jesse and the tree. "It's perfect, baby. I want it in my living room. But you and Jazz should have one at your place, too. If you're worried about affording it, it can be my Christmas present." Gracen saw Jesse's eyes go soft and unfocused; damper than usual. Then Jesse shook his head and those pretty hazel eyes were dry. "Like Jazz would ever forgive me if we spent Christmas anywhere but at your place." Jesse rolled his eyes. "I think she'd rather have you for a brother than me!" Gracen made a mental note to look into buying the condo next to his own so he could bust through the wall and expand his own place, assuming things kept going Someone Special - 148

well with Jesse. He wasn't willing to give up his work room, but he definitely needed more space if Jazz was going to be staying over on any sort of regular basis, which he hoped she would. She was Jesse's sister, after all, and as such, she mattered almost as much to Gracen as Jesse did. Gracen wasn't about to say as much, of course, because the last thing he wanted was to scare Jesse off and, if Jesse knew just how attached Gracen had become in the last day or so, Jesse would definitely be scared. "Do me a favor," Gracen said, instead of the many, many things he wanted to say. "Stay right where you are, with your hand on our tree. Just so nobody else steals it out from under us." Jesse laughed and slung an arm over some of the branches. "Consider it done."

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Chapter Eleven Gracen was more than ready to find out what Alonzo's P.I. friend had to say. Unfortunately, the day or two that Gracen had been expecting the research to take had turned into nearly a week and there were still no answers, either way. Jesse was back to his habitual three-jobs-and-littlesleep schedule, and that didn't have Gracen feeling any more charitable toward the private investigator. If anything, he was starting to wonder whether he might have done better himself. He'd sorted out the issues with his studio and was happy to know that Joel hadn't actually fired Charlene. The man had yelled at the girl and chastised her enough that she really had been in the bathroom -- crying -when Gracen had called for a replacement photographer at the mall. The junior photographers, meaning the ones under Joel's command, had been sent out on other sitespecific jobs and, while Joel had needed to close the studio for the day and hadn't been anything like amenable while wearing the elf costume, he'd at least shown up. And Joel finally seemed to understand that being cute and gay -- and acting the way Joel thought people who'd grown up with silver spoons in their mouths acted -- wasn't enough to keep him employed. Straightening out all that had been Gracen's way of distracting himself from the things the P.I. had been looking into, though. He knew that. Even the arrival of the Christmas tree Jesse had found had barely been a blip on Gracen's radar. Yes, it was Jesse's tree, and Someone Special - 150

Gracen loved it, but it didn't keep Gracen from thinking about what Veronica-the-private-investigator was doing. Christmas was coming closer and closer, and Gracen wanted to know what was going on before then, damn it. Whether his suppositions were right or wrong, Gracen wanted to know. He was fairly sure Jesse did, too. And Jasmine. It took less than a minute to grab his phone and dial the investigator's number, just as Gracen had already done five times that morning, only this time she answered. "Veronica Carey." The words were short, clipped. "Who's this?" Gracen heard something that seemed like a malfunctioning volume control set on hiss. Oddly enough, he recognized the sound. "You're driving," he answered. "Call me back when you get somewhere you can stop. Um, it's Gracen. Gracen Michaels." "Crap! Do you even know what turn signals are for?" He was fairly sure the angry words weren't meant for him. "Hold on a second, Mr. Michaels. There's a pull-off just ahead." Gracen held on, his free hand clenching as he listened to Veronica cursing at various drivers through the hissfest. Finally, the ambient noise softened, then stopped altogether. "Okay. Sorry about that, Mr. Mi…" Gracen cleared his throat. "Sorry. I mean Gracen. Now, how can I help you?" She sounded impatient and Gracen wondered whether he was keeping her from working on a case, but he needed to know what was going on with his case… or Jesse's, rather. Gracen might be the one who'd hired Veronica Carey, and while he cared an awful lot about Someone Special - 151

whatever the woman found out, he was pretty sure it was even more important to Jesse. "I'm sorry," he announced, adding to the flow of apologies she'd started. "I'm sure you're doing everything you can, but we haven't had an update in three days now, and we're all getting a little bit anxious. I was just hoping you might have some sort of news or progress to report or… something." She sighed. Gracen wasn't sure he was meant to hear it, but he did. "I'm actually on my way up to Haversham Psychiatric, outside Tranersville, right now," she answered after a moment. "That's where Kris Munro is incarcerated. I have an appointment with the head of the maximum security ward later this afternoon." Gracen's heart started beating faster, pounding like a drum in his chest. "And…? I mean, are they going to let you talk to her? Maybe find out the truth, either way?" Veronica snorted. "Hardly. The impression I got when I spoke to Dr. Benson is that she's still highly unstable and not responding well to treatment. He didn't say as much, you understand, but he did inform me that Mrs. Munro isn't allowed visitors and isn't likely to be for a very, very long time." "Uh. Okay, so why are you…" Gracen shook his head, solely for his own benefit. "Never mind. I'm sure you know what you're doing." "Yes," the woman answered bluntly. "I do. I don't need to see her, in any case. I simply need to verify the information I already have, and that shouldn't be too terribly difficult, even with Doctor-patient confidentiality. Kris Munro is in an odd position, in that she's been committed to the facility by a judge. Confidentiality still applies, but considering the circumstances? I'm reasonably sure that Dr. Benson will Someone Special - 152

answer a few questions completely unrelated to Kris Munro's treatment, especially once he understands that I'm not asking out of any desire to profit from the situation." She chuckled a little. "Well, no more than I'm already doing by working for you." Gracen frowned and held the phone more tightly. "And if he doesn't want to tell you anything or decides he can't?" Because that would be just his luck, really. So close and yet so far. Veronica was smiling. He could tell by her tone. It was probably a toothy, predatory smile, too. "If the good doctor decides the rights of his criminally insane patient trump the rights of two innocent and possibly deceived responsible citizens, there are other ways of acquiring the same information. This particular method may be easier, though. Not to mention much less expensive for you personally. Now, please don't be offended, Mr.-Sorry. Gracen. -- but I do have an appointment and I'd really like to be on time. Nothing pisses people off more than waiting around for someone who's going to ask them for a favor, especially doctors and administrators." True enough, Gracen realized as he said goodbye and ended the call. Veronica had a good point about the doctor. Maybe he really would share a little information, once he was sure Veronica wasn't a reporter or trying to get information for a law suit or whatever the hell else someone would want to know about Kris Munro for. It suddenly occurred to Gracen that by the same token, maybe Jesse could go there -- to the Haversham Psychiatric Institute. As Kris Munro's next of kin, Jesse might be able to get answers that Veronica couldn't. Except I don't want Jesse going to that place; especially if the Kris Munro incarcerated there really is his mother. Just walking through the doors of an Someone Special - 153

institution like that would probably give him nightmares for the rest of his life, and the point of all this is to keep him from having any more nightmares. Fuck, Veronica, make it work. I'll owe you big-time. He should have asked what time Veronica's appointment was with the doctor, but he hadn't, and he wasn't about to call her back to ask. Not when delaying her any more might have a detrimental effect on that same appointment. He didn't have time, anyway, Gracen realized after glancing at the clock on his kitchen wall. He needed to get into his Elf-duds and haul ass to the mall. Far from upsetting him, he found himself smiling as he changed. He hadn't seen Jesse in almost twenty-four hours, and that was about twenty-three hours too long. *** Bernard was already in the Santa Hut when Jesse arrived, a little out of breath from running. He'd overslept by almost twenty minutes, but at least he'd made it to the mall on time. Breathing hard, but at least nominally on time. In fact, he had ten minutes before he needed to be out front, doing what he could to make the Workshop appeal to children and parents. "Well, if it isn't my favorite elf," Bernard said by way of greeting, and Jesse blushed, though he doubted to older man could tell, considering that Jesse had already been flushed from dashing about. "How goes it with you and Michael, as if I don't know." God, why did Bernard always have to ask him that? Probably because the man knew it made Jesse uncomfortable, though Bernard never acted mean about it. He just seemed to enjoy making Jesse stutter and Someone Special - 154

blush, which was fair enough. Most of the other elves liked to try embarrassing Bernard during breaks by saying things designed to have the older man cringing. It was all meant in good fun, of course, and Bernard did get his licks in against Jesse's coworkers, so Jesse didn't usually mind. Right at the moment, though, Jesse was not only running late but already twisted up inside. As days went by without any news from the P.I., Jesse became more and more certain that Gracen's theory was full of enough holes that any water it might have held had long since leaked out. Worse still, Jesse found himself becoming more and more convinced that Gracen had known his idea was a great, steaming pile of shit and had simply thought it would be fun to fuck with Jesse and Jazz by getting their hopes up. He knew that whole idea was bullshit intellectually, but that strange, gut-twisting concern was still there. It was exactly the kind of thing some of the guys Jesse had been involved with before would have done, just for shits and giggles. "It's fine," Jesse muttered, already halfway changed into his elf-suit. He'd completely lost any modesty he might have had when he'd started the elf-gig, and changed easily in front of whoever happened to be in the Santa Hut, including Bernard. "How's your son? What's his name again? Tony?" Bernard frowned a little. Jesse could see it even through the beard. "Tommy," the man corrected. "He's… Hell, he's having some issues, if you really want to know. But at least he's talking about it this time, right? The last time, he just ran off and ended up sleeping on the streets and doing things I don't even want to think about." Bernard took a deep breath and let it out. "They say the holidays are the most stressful time of year for a lot of people, and I guess that's true for Someone Special - 155

him, too. But we'll get through it. Coming here, working with all these little kids and making them smile? That helps me." Jesse sighed. "Shit, man. I'm sorry." He finished tugging his costume into place and met Bernard's eyes again. "You know… I don't know what Tommy's problems are, but if working here is helping you, maybe it would be good for him, too. Unless he's… you know… dangerous or something." Jesse wasn't sure about why he'd suggested such a thing. Hell, for all he knew, Bernard's son was on drugs and that was the last kind of person who should be around kids, especially at a mall during the Christmas season. But Bernard hadn't made it sound like Tommy was messed up in that way. It sounded more like the guy was depressed or something, and if that were the case, then seeing so many kids smiling and laughing and being happy about Santa might lift his spirits, at least a little. Another frown creased Bernard's face and the man shook his head. "I really wish I'd thought of that myself, back when I was signing on for this job," Bernard muttered. "Too late now, but it's a good idea, Jesse. I'll see what Tommy's therapist thinks about it for next year, and… thanks. You know you're the only one who knows about Tommy, right? I never would have said anything at all if you hadn't seemed to need more information about Michael at the start. For the record, I appreciate you not spreading that story around." Jesse laughed, deliberately lightening the mood. "Oh, please. Like I was going to tell anyone else what you said about… Michael… before I could stake my claim? Guys like him don't come along every day, you know." Someone Special - 156

Bernard chuckled, his eyes lighting up in that Santaway that reeled in the kids. "They really don't. I wasn't sure you knew it before, but I'm glad you do now. And we should probably get out there before the other elves start thinking the Greeter-Elf has something going on with Santa." Jesse laughed loudly when Bernard winked, but that didn't stop him from fluttering his own lashes. "Oh, Santa!" he sing-songed in a lilting falsetto. "You're so big and strong and masterful! Let me guide your sleigh tonight!" Bernard made a choking sound, and Jesse smirked while opening the door and heading out of the Santa Hut, ready for work and in much better spirits than he'd been experiencing before his conversation with Bernard, because Bernard was right. Gracen really was a good man. A much better man than Jesse was, himself, and that was fine. When Jesse really thought about it, he'd spent so much of his life worrying that he'd become unable to differentiate between right and wrong, he'd never taken the time to become a good man or a bad one. He'd simply focused on surviving and being lucid for as long as possible. Those days were over, though. Even if Gracen was wrong. Even if it turned out that Jesse did have an increased likelihood of becoming less than rational… he wanted to be a good man until that happened. He wanted to know happiness and feel like he was doing some good, no matter what the future might hold. He wanted to stand beside Gracen and enjoy whatever time they had, even if it ended up being cut short by mental illness, and he wanted to tell Gracen, too. Tell Gracen that no matter what happened, Jesse wanted… Someone Special - 157

God, it was stupid, and it was even a line stolen from a movie Jesse hadn't particularly liked, but… "You make me want to be a better man," Jesse murmured as he reached Gracen's side. Gracen jumped a little, and Jesse fought the urge to laugh at having startled him. "Sorry," Jesse said, though he wasn't really. He liked it that he'd been able to surprise Gracen. "I just wanted to tell you that. You really do make me want to be a better man, and once Christmas is over, I want to volunteer with you at the shelter, okay? Um, someone told me you do that." Gracen's eyes went from shocked-wide to their normal proportions and a smile spread his lips. The man looked like he was about to say something, but Arma spoke up just then. "Oh, my!" Arma announced, her arms lifting expansively. "Look at all these boys and girls, just waiting to see Santa! Have you all been good?" That was their cue, so Jesse offered a soft gaze to Gracen and felt his heart thunder at the matching expression he got in return. They would talk later, Jesse knew, and that was fine. The most important thing, right then, was that Jesse finally knew he could have a life. No matter what happened, no matter what Gracen's P.I. found… Jesse was going to fully embrace the opportunities before him, for however long he could. An hour or so into prancing about and making the kids laugh, Jesse sidled up to Arma and nudged her gently with his elbow. "That job offer still good?" he asked quietly.

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"It is if you're saying yes," she replied. "I'll need you for half an hour or so, to fill out the paperwork for your benefits and so on. Tomorrow?" Jesse laughed. "I wish. Between this job and the other two, I'm not sure I can do it until after Christmas." Arma blinked, her wide, pretty dark eyes seeming stunned. "You have three jobs? I mean, I'm sure you listed them on your application, but… you have three jobs?" Jesse shrugged. "Right now. It's usually only two, but this elf-thing is seasonal." "Stick around for a little while tonight," Arma suggested. "I'll print out the forms for you so you can fill them out at home. Just try to have them back to me before this 'elf-thing' is over, okay? It'll be easier to push them through while you're still an employee, even a temporary one." Jesse nodded. He could do that. At the moment, though, he needed to stop the impending storm of tears and snot that was so clear on the face of the little boy who was obviously scared of the jolly-fat-man in the red-and-white suit. *** Gracen felt like an asshole for convincing Jesse to miss work again, but he didn't want to hear what Veronica had to say without Jesse being there to hear it, too. And where Jesse went -- at least with regards to the private investigating and whatever had been discovered - Jazz went, too. Which was fair enough, really. Jazz had just as much at stake as Jesse did and far more than Gracen. Someone Special - 159

Jesse hadn't fought too hard about taking the night off from the grocery store, though, and that had Gracen feeling a little less guilty than he might have, otherwise. They'd finished their Santa's Workshop gig for the night, and Gracen had headed home while Jesse drove to his own place to pick up Jazz. The three of them had just consumed most of the large everything-but-anchovies pizza Gracen had ordered for delivery when the knock he'd been expecting sounded at his front door. Veronica Carey looked nothing like Gracen had imagined. In fact, he'd had some sort of image in his mind of a young, svelte, blonde woman, barely out of her teens. Gracen blamed television for that… and Alonzo. There hadn't been time for Gracen to actually meet Veronica Carey. He'd hired her over the phone on Alonzo's say-so, and apparently Veronica trusted Alonzo enough to believe Gracen would pay up when the job was done. All Alonzo had said about Veronica was that she was very good and extremely hot, which Gracen had always assumed was Alonzo-speak for tinyand-cute. Gracen learned something new about Alonzo all the time. Instead of a wispy little blonde girl who could have been blown to Texas by a stiff breeze, Gracen found himself meeting a brunette woman who appeared to be somewhere between thirty and forty, though Gracen couldn't nail it down much better than that. She was probably about five-foot-seven inches tall and carried a voluptuous figure very well. She was dressed sensibly, in navy slacks, a matching jacket, and an ivory blouse and her briefcase was a nice shade of burgundy leather. Gracen was almost sure she was wearing flats, rather than heels of any sort, but he couldn't be sure on first glance. Someone Special - 160

On the whole, she looked extremely professional, with subtle makeup, but she also looked stunning. If he'd been the sort to find women attractive, he would likely have developed a crush right there in his own doorway. Gracen had no doubt about that. There was something about an air of competence and confidence that he'd always found attractive. "Well, you're far too old to be Jesse Munro, so I'm guessing you're Gracen Michaels," she said, sounding slightly annoyed. "Are you planning on letting me in, or do I need to stand here for another thirty seconds while you stare at me?" Gracen shook himself, pushing away his initial reaction. "I'm sorry. You're just not what I expected. Uh, I mean that in a good way, just to be clear. Please. Come in." He stepped back, allowing her room to pass before closing and locking the door behind her. "For the record, Alonzo was right, even if his taste in women is usually, uh…" He trailed off, not sure how to explain without sounding offensive. "So anyway, we're in the kitchen, but maybe the living room is better for this. Can I get you something to drink?" Veronica laughed and shook her head. "I can only imagine what Alonzo said. He's been trying to get into my pants for years. Not that I blame him because I'm one hell of a catch, but that's never going to happen. He's too high-maintenance for me. And I'd love a Whiskey, if you have it. If not, a beer will do. Is Mr. Munro one of the 'we' in the kitchen? I'm reasonably sure he'll want to hear what I have to say." Okay. Veronica was just as up-front in person as she was over the phone. Gracen actually liked that. "He is. His sister Jasmine is in there, too. I'll go get them and your Whiskey. How do you take it?" Someone Special - 161

"In a glass." Veronica smiled just a bit. "Please don't pollute it with ice or any sort of mixer." She shuddered dramatically. "That would just be wrong. Unless it's some sort of rot-gut, in which case I take it with sixty cubes and about a quart of water." Gracen snorted. "Please. Like I would ever offer a guest -- especially one who's gone out of their way to do something I couldn't -- anything but good Irish. The living room is there," he gestured. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll get the Munros and your drink." "I'm honestly more the 'kitchen' type," Veronica answered, and Gracen couldn't argue. He didn't know the woman well enough to say whether she was telling the truth or not. He couldn't imagine why she would lie about something like that, though, so he took it at face value. "That's fine," Gracen announced, leading the way to the kitchen. "We just finished eating, so please ignore the mess. We'll get it cleared away." Veronica chuckled. "I'm sure. And I'm guessing these are the Munros," she stated as she entered behind Gracen. "How on earth did they ever think that woman was their mother?" That last was almost a whisper, but Gracen heard it. He couldn't answer, mostly because his heart was suddenly in his throat at the words. It sounded like Veronica was saying -- had proof -- that Kris Munro wasn't Jesse and Jasmine's mother and, while Gracen had suspected as much, hearing that opinion seconded, even in the non-declarative fashion of that mutter? Well, yeah. That had him more excited than he wanted to be. Until he heard it for sure and had some sort of proof, he couldn't afford to feel relieved. Someone Special - 162

Gracen cleared his throat, forcing his heart down from where it seemed to have lodged just beneath his Adam's apple. "Jesse. Jazz. This is Veronica Carey. She's the P.I. who's been looking into things. Veronica, meet Jesse and Jasmine Munro. Jasmine prefers to be called Jazz." God, he hoped Veronica really did have something good to say. "I'm getting Veronica a Whiskey. Do you want anything?" "Same," Jazz said bluntly. "I may even have more than one. If so, I might need to borrow cab fare, Gracen." Jesse made a sound that seemed a little bit lost. "Yeah. Me, too." Gracen shook his head, even as he crossed the kitchen and pulled four tumblers from the cupboard beside the sink. "Worst case, you can have the couch tonight, Jazz. Jesse can share with me." He took the bottle of Glenfiddich from the glass-fronted cabinet where the booze lived, then poured for all of them. Doubles all around. "Okay," Gracen said bluntly once he'd distributed the drinks and sat down with Veronica directly across from him at the kitchen table. "Tell us what you found out."

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Chapter Twelve "It wasn't exactly easy," the woman -- Veronica Carey -- said, sipping her drink just as slowly as she was talking. Jesse wanted to scream at her, demand that she get to the point. He couldn't, though. Even with just having met her, he recognized her type. She was in charge and she knew it, and she would relate the story just as quickly as she felt like doing. Trying to rush her would only result in having her spend still more time explaining things, as a means of punishment. He doubted she would do it deliberately, but it would still happen, or so he believed. Jazz was like that, too. Jesse couldn't swear to it, but he figured it was likely from being overlooked as a child, whether at school or at home. In Jazz's case, it had been school until she'd made the effort to stand out. Both Jazz and Jesse had gotten far too much attention at home, and maybe that was part of it, too. Whatever. Jesse wasn't well-versed in psychology. "Dr. Benson wasn't really aching to share," Veronica said, taking another slow sip of Whiskey. "I can't say for sure, but I think he was nervous. He wouldn't answer any direct questions out loud, but he did confirm a few things through nodding and staying silent." "And?" That was Jazz, and Jesse almost groaned out loud at the impatience in his sister's voice. "What did his nodding and not nodding tell you?" Then Jazz seemed to get that she was demanding answers rather than asking them. "Sorry." She didn't sound it, but whatever. "It's just that whatever you found out could change Someone Special - 164

everything for me and my brother, so I'm not exactly feeling patient right now." Jesse wasn't sure -- would never be sure -- whether it was Jazz's tone or the sudden reminder that whatever information had been acquired could literally change their lives, but Veronica Carey frowned and looked down at the table, then lifted her eyes to meet Jesse's eyes, then Jazz's, presumably. She was facing that way, in any case. "It's all very complicated," the P.I. said bluntly. "Or it would be in any other situation. I did some more research through some… questionable sources, after I got back from Haversham last night. That was actually far more helpful than Dr. Benson was, though he did give me a good start." Jesse fought the urge to move things along, instead reaching for Gracen's hand under the table. That Gracen's fingers seemed to be just waiting there for him was more than nice. It was… sublime, really. It had Jesse feeling like things might actually work out, assuming Veronica Carey had something good to say. "And?" It was amazing to Jesse that Gracen had mastered such a non-demanding and yet insistent tone. He couldn't have managed it himself. "And, once Dr. Benson understood the concerns and that they were coming from the supposed children of his patient, his responses seemed to indicate that you were right, Mr. …Sorry. Gracen. The good doctor was even incautious enough to 'accidentally' let me sneak a peek at the name on his patient's file." The woman took another long, slow swallow of Whiskey. "The upshot of all this is… the Kris Munro who is incarcerated at Haversham is definitely not Kristine Martis Munro. For one thing, she's far too young to be the mother of Jesse Someone Special - 165

and Jasmine, unless she started having children when she was fifteen, and while that's not impossible, the age of Kristine Martis Munro, as listed on the birth certificates of her children, was twenty-four for Jesse and twenty-seven for Jasmine. It seems that the Kris Munro who raised them was at one point their nanny, Kristi Bates." Jesse was sure he'd heard those words wrong. Was sure he'd just dreamed them. Even with believing Gracen would never steer him wrong on purpose, he couldn't quite let himself accept Veronica Carey's words. No," he said, his hand clenching tight around the glass he held. "I would remember if she wasn't our mother… I would! I. Wouldn't I? I know Jazz wouldn't, but she's younger, and… I'd remember!" If he'd been expecting any sort of maternal comfort, Jesse would have been disappointed. As it was, Veronica Carey's response was exactly what he needed. So was the tighter grasp of Gracen's fingers. "According to my information -- and I have no reason to doubt it because my people are the best -- your birth mother died when Jasmine was less than six months old. From what I understand, it was some sort of septic… something or other. Your father hired Kristi Bates to act as nanny while he was working and at some point, they moved your family here from Shreveport, Louisiana." The private investigator took another sip from her glass, finishing off the Whiskey, and Gracen turned, snagging the bottle from the counter to pour her a few more drams. Jesse was amazed but grateful that Gracen managed it without letting go of his hand. "So nobody knew." Jazz was way quicker on the uptake than Jesse was right then. Obviously, because she Someone Special - 166

was the one who'd asked. "Nobody ever even thought to question it." Veronica Carey shrugged, not unkindly. "Why would they? Your father either married the nanny at some point or didn't. Either way, they arrived in Florida acting as though they were husband and wife. Your birth mother and the nanny had very similar first names -- variations on 'Kris' were very popular for baby girls for at least a decade. You can thank Cheryl Ladd and Charlie's Angels for that." The woman tossed back the entire contents of the glass that Gracen had just refilled and Jesse privately thought her grimace wasn't even close to a strong enough reaction to the taste. Gracen barked out a laugh. "The first time I heard the name 'Kris Munro'? That's exactly what I thought of. My dad was a huge fan, much to my mother's amusement." Veronica Carey -- oh, hell, Jesse needed to start thinking of her as just Veronica -- offered a little halfsmile and nodded. "That's probably part of why nobody ever asked questions. Odd name, entrenched in popculture. It must have seemed far too obvious for anyone to think there was something funny going on." Well, that made a certain sort of sense, Jesse decided. And with the move and being so young himself, it did explain why he didn't remember his real mother. He missed her suddenly, though that seemed silly. Silly didn't make it any less of a valid feeling, though. He gazed across the table and saw Jazz looking just as shattered as he felt. Then Jesse noticed that Jazz had one hand under the table, as well, and that Gracen had none showing. It didn't take much to put those pieces together. Someone Special - 167

Gracen was holding Jazz's hand, too. Just like Gracen was holding Jesse's. Gracen was comforting them both as much as he could with a stranger sitting right there. "Thank you," Gracen said softly. Jesse heard him and he was fairly sure the P.I. did, too. "I know it seems like we're not grateful, but we are. All of us. It's just a lot to take in, all at once. Suspecting something is one thing, but finding out you're right… that can take some time to really get. Even for me, and I'm not one of the people who are truly impacted by all this." "Keep telling yourself that," Veronica said bluntly as she pushed her chair back and stood. "Maybe you'll even make yourself believe it. It's going to take some time to acquire the necessary documentation to prove everything conclusively, but it'll happen; I promise you that. And now I'm going to let Alonzo buy me a late dinner and try to convince me that I should sleep with him." She smirked. "It's not much, but a girl's got to have a hobby, right? And Gracen? Check your mail in the next few days. A girl's also got to get paid." Jesse hadn't actually though the woman was working for free, but the reminder hit him hard. He didn't have the kind of money that someone like Veronica could demand for her services. Even with the new job at the mall, he couldn't afford to pay her and still manage the mortgage on the house, not to mention keeping Jazz in text books and clothed in what might somewhat approximate fashionable attire. He barely noticed when Veronica left the kitchen, though he did hear Gracen's front door close behind her. "I can't let you --" "Jazz?" Gracen said calmly, "I'd really love it if you'd find something to watch in the living room. I have lots of DVDs. Uh, you might want to avoid the ones on the Someone Special - 168

bottom two shelves on the left. Unless you like gay porn, of course. I think your brother and I need to have a talk." Yeah. Because that would work. Jazz was about a second away from telling Gracen that there was nothing Gracen could say that couldn't be said in front of her. Jesse was sure of it. Jazz was protective of him, after all; probably because he was the only family she had. Even more so, now that it seemed their mother wasn't their mother. "Do you have 'Legend'? I really love that movie," Jazz said, and it was not what Jesse had expected to hear. "I know it's old, but I have this weird unicorn thing… and Tim Curry looks hot in his Prince of Darkness get-up. Even hotter than he looked in Rocky Horror." "They're both out there somewhere, and we really need to compare our tastes in film sometime. Just not right now," Gracen answered, and Jazz left the kitchen without even saying goodbye. It sucked! *** "Okay," Gracen said, steeling himself for what he suspected would come next, "I'm ready, Jesse. Let me have it. You can't let me… what?" "You can't pay Veronica for me. For us." Yeah, that was what Gracen had thought Jesse would say. "You've already done too much. I can't let you just… pay for things!" He didn't mean to do it, but Gracen rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. "It's not 'things,' it's…" He sighed. "Look, Jesse. I get it, okay? You've been on your own for years, now. You've been the one paying the bills Someone Special - 169

and the mortgage -- and we'll talk about that later -- and it goes against everything you believe to let someone else do things for you. I really do get it. But I'm not just anyone, am I?" God, he hoped he was more than that. "If you really insist, we can draw up some sort of contract and call my paying Veronica a loan, but I'd rather not. Whatever she charges me, it's worth it. If only for your peace of mind, it's worth it to me. You knew that when I hired her, didn't you?" Gracen had thought so, anyway. He'd assumed Jesse had understood that Gracen would be paying Veronica, considering that Jesse and Jasmine didn't have any savings that Gracen knew of. From what Jesse had said - and the whole three jobs thing -- the sibs had been just barely getting by from week to week. It had seemed obvious, to Gracen at least, that he would be the one footing the bill for the investigative work he'd commissioned. Apparently, he'd been wrong. Jesse tried to pull his hand from Gracen's as the sound of the movie starting in the living room penetrated through to the kitchen, but Gracen wasn't having it. Instead, he moved their joined palms and tangled fingers to the top of the table and held on. "I'd really like it if you'd let me do this for you," Gracen added, carefully not calling Jesse baby or any other such endearment. That might be seen as manipulative, after all, and Gracen wasn't trying to manipulate Jesse. Not really. He did want to have his own way, but not because he forced Jesse into it. "Why?" Jesse demanded, and it really was a demand more than a question, if Gracen was any judge. "God, Gracen, you've already done enough! Why the fuck would you want to pay however much it's going to cost? We've only been seeing each other for a few weeks! I Someone Special - 170

could see it if we'd been together for years, but weeks? I just… what's in it for you?" God, that suspicious tone pained him. It did. That and the implication that Gracen couldn't possibly have any real feelings for Jesse after only a few weeks. Except maybe it wasn't about Gracen at all. He wasn't sure about where the thought came from, but it felt more likely than the first. It made sense, too, considering. Jesse had spent the last six years of his life completely convinced that he was going to end up with his mother's -- rather, Kristi Bates' -- illness. Jesse had even said, or possibly just implied, that he wasn't deserving of a relationship. It was completely likely that Jesse was still stuck in that mindset, as it had been only a matter of minutes since they'd all discovered that what Jesse and Jasmine had believed for the entirety of their lives just wasn't true. No matter that it had seemed likely after Gracen had seen photos of the Munro family, they'd only known for a short while. That didn't really help Gracen decide what to say, though. Jesse was in an emotional state, and while Gracen couldn't identify those emotions, or even truly imagine what Jesse was going through, he had to say something. "There doesn't have to be anything in it for me," Gracen said carefully. "Other than the fact that I care about you and want you to be happy. God, Jesse, you were tearing yourself up inside because you were so worried about ending up like your mother, and I guess I thought it would be a good thing if we could find out whether you were actually at any real, elevated risk of losing yourself the way you were so afraid of. To me, that peace of mind for you matters more than something as stupid and worthless as money. It doesn't even matter Someone Special - 171

that you're my boyfriend, okay?" Gracen frowned, confusing himself a little with that one. "Or, yes. That part matters. It matters a lot. I love it that we're seeing each other. But even if we weren't… I mean, if we were just friends? I'd still want to do this. Because I really do care about you. We're not just friends, though, and that only makes me want to help you out in this way even more." God, was he even making sense? Maybe not, considering that Jesse was looking at him like Gracen had just grown a second head. "Sorry. Let me try that again," Gracen managed before Jesse lost that confusion and tried to speak. "You're very important to me. You really are. And like I said, if you want to call it a loan, that's fine. We can work out terms and stuff. I'd rather not -- simply because relationships tend to do badly when arguments over money start up, and I don't want to lose this relationship. Sometimes things aren't financially equal, but they don't really have to be. I have more money than you, but you make me happy and that's not anything I can buy, Jesse. I'm not suggesting that I pay all your bills or make you a kept man. This thing with Veronica is a one-time deal, and since I'm the one who decided to hire her, I feel like it's my responsibility to pay her. Can you understand that?" Please God, let Jesse understand. Gracen honestly didn't know how to explain it any better than he'd just done. Jesse frowned, but he did look a slight bit less baffled. His hand relaxed in Gracen's, too, which Gracen thought was a hopeful sign. "I just feel like you've done enough already," Jesse muttered just loudly enough that Gracen heard him. "You're the only one who ever thought anything about the family pictures," Jesse went Someone Special - 172

on, his voice rising enough that Gracen no longer had to strain to hear. "You're the whole reason Jazz and I even had a hope of being normal, and that's huge! That's, like… the biggest thing anyone's ever given to us. To me. And I appreciate that. I do, Gracen! But I feel like… if I let you pay Veronica, that puts me even more in the owing column and I don't like the idea of owing you money when I already owe you my future and my sister's! How can we ever have a real relationship -- one that might last, which I never figured I could have until recently -- when owing you 'something as stupid and worthless as money' only puts us even more out of balance than owing you my future does?" "I…" Gracen was more than stunned, he felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Are you saying you wouldn't want to be with me now if I hadn't decided to find out about your parents?" Jesus, the idea alone made him feel sick. "I didn't do any of this to tie you to me, Jesse! I didn't! I mean--" Jesse groaned and when he tried to pull his hand from Gracen's again, Gracen let him. Jesse didn't go anywhere, though. He just propped both his elbows on the table and buried his fingers in his hair. "That's not what I'm saying," Jesse answered, muted again. Gracen swallowed hard against the lump that had grown in his throat. "What, then?" Please let it be something that didn't leave Gracen feeling like he'd somehow blackmailed Jesse into being there. Please! "I'm saying I want to be with you!" Jesse still had his head bowed in his hands, but he glanced up through his hair and Gracen felt his own heart leap just a little at what he hoped he saw there. "I can accept that you saved my life -- almost literally, because now I really feel like I can have one -- because you care about me, like you Someone Special - 173

said. You just made my worst problem disappear, Gracen, and that amazes me! I feel like I can be stronger now; like I can do anything at all! But you can't make everything better, and you've already done enough. How can I feel like a man, much less 'a better man' like I said before, if I let you take care of everything that might cause me any difficulties? You've already made my life about a thousand times easier and better, just since we met!" Gracen sighed. "I guess I feel like you've had enough 'difficulties' in your life," he admitted, because that was the truth. Jesse had been through more than enough, as far as Gracen was concerned. By the same token, Jesse had also dealt with those difficulties to the best of his not-inconsiderable ability, and that was damned impressive. The last thing Gracen wanted to do was insist upon having his own way and somehow give Jesse the impression that Gracen didn't see him as a man, but as someone weak who needed guidance. Jesse was easily one of the strongest people Gracen had ever known. It was more than a little bit arousing, if Gracen was being honest. "Okay." Gracen nodded sharply and reached out, his hand hovering in the air over the table until Jesse straightened in his seat and latched on. "Okay, Jesse. If that's what you need, then fine. For the record, though, I've never seen you as anything but a man. My man, but still a man." Jesse laughed at that. Not loudly, but his eyes started shining in that way Gracen loved. "Good," he answered. "I've kind of been seeing you that way, too. As mine, I mean. Ever since I started thinking of you as my boyfriend. Um, is that a stupid word for a grown man to use?" Someone Special - 174

Gracen laughed, too. Laughed and pulled Jesse's hand to his lips, kissing the fingers that tangled with his own. "If it is, we're both guilty, so I'd say they cancel each other out. So we're okay?" Jesse smiled and stood, pulling Gracen to his feet, though Gracen didn't bother with resisting. "We're okay," Jesse agreed, moving closer. "Are we done talking?" Good question. "For now," Gracen said, following his answer with a kiss that erased any other words from his own mind. It seemed to have the same effect on Jesse, and that was good, Gracen decided. Very, very good. Less good was that even with the sounds of Jasmine's movie playing, Gracen -- and apparently Jesse, as well -had completely forgotten that the girl was there. Right up until they stumbled from the kitchen, lips still locked and hands in places Gracen would rather not have had witnesses to. Jazz's "Ew-ew-ew-ew-ew! I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing anyone groping my brother's half-naked ass! Ew-ew-ew! Get a room!" probably meant she wasn't entirely hyped about it, either. Jesse dealt with the situation, swiftly and easily, though Gracen saw that his boyfriend's face was as red as Gracen's felt. "Take the car and go home, Jazz," Jesse ordered. "I'll call you tomorrow!" "Fine!" Jazz answered, one hand over her eyes as she stood and made a beeline for the door, the movie still running. "I thought we could start on decorating the tree tonight, but as I saw, you obviously have other plans! God, I think I'm scarred for life… or possibly just scared. Later!" Jesse groaned and leaned his head forward onto Gracen's shoulder. Gracen couldn't blame him for Someone Special - 175

hiding, though. "Do me one favor?" Jesse asked, sounding thoroughly embarrassed. "Anything," Gracen agreed, equally mortified. "If you do decide to dump me at some point, tell me it's because my sister's a crazy, irritating bitch?" That surprised a laugh from Gracen, even while it had his brow furrowing. "Not really planning on dumping you, baby. And I actually like your sister, but we can talk about that later. I think we were busy before the Jazz-show aired, weren't we?" Jesse nodded against his shoulder. "I'll turn off the TV." Gracen kept hold of Jesse and pulled him a step further toward the bedroom. "Let it play. I couldn't care less. Right now, I don't feel like letting go of you at all. Is that going to be a problem for you?" Clearly not, because when Gracen tugged lightly again, Jesse followed his lead as easily as though they'd been doing just that for years.

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Chapter Thirteen Jesse had meant everything he'd said to Gracen in the kitchen. He really didn't want to feel like some stupid, worthless kid who needed a handout. He wanted -needed -- to be someone Gracen thought highly of if their whole relationship was going to work. That it was even more of a relationship than Jesse had thought was swiftly becoming clear to him, too. Oh, Jesse had known that he'd become attached to Gracen. He hadn't quite realized how much until they'd almost fought in the kitchen, over something as ridiculous as who was going to pay Veronica. It hadn't felt ridiculous at the time, of course, but ten minutes later, which was about how long it had taken to get to Gracen's bedroom and have both of them naked on the broad expanse of the bed… It seemed ridiculous, though maybe it wouldn't have if Gracen hadn't finally agreed to stop coddling Jesse. Of course, coddling him in the kitchen was a completely different thing from cuddling him in bed, which was what Gracen was doing right then, much to Jesse's frustration. "Gracen," Jesse moaned, though it came out as more of a whine, "come on! I need…" He didn't know exactly what he needed, but Jesse was sure it wasn't to have Gracen behind him, that hot, hard cock rubbing against Jesse's lower back while Gracen held him and pressed slow, wet kisses to Jesse's shoulder, the side of his neck. Gracen chuckled, the sound and vibration traveling along Jesse's skin, going straight to his own rigid prick. "Not everything is about you," Gracen murmured, and Jesse thought he might start begging when Gracen's hips Someone Special - 177

started moving just a touch faster. "I need to just touch you for a minute, okay? Touch you. Hold you. Let all this… anticipation I'm feeling build. I want you desperate when we finally--" "What?" Jesse groaned, interrupting. "Fuck?" "I was going to say something else, but okay. When we fuck." There was nothing in Gracen's tone that said he was opposed to the term, but Jesse felt the way those soft lips lost the curve they'd had against his skin mere moments earlier. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to know what term Gracen had been about to use. He pulled away, putting just a enough space between his own spine and Gracen's chest to turn. "Sorry," Jesse said gently. "I'm sorry. I was trying to rush you and you're right. This, between us, isn't just about me. What did I stop you from saying, Gracen? 'When we'… what?" Gracen shrugged a little, then sighed softly when Jesse pressed a hand to his chest. Jesse felt the heart beneath his palm pounding away. "I think… and don't let this scare you, okay?" Gracen said, and Jesse nodded. "I think I was about to say 'when we make love.' And I know we haven't really talked about that, but I really feel like that's where this is going, okay? For me, at least. I think…" Gracen laughed a little but it didn't sound like he was actually amused. More like he was laughing at himself in the non-funny way. "I'm not quite there yet," Gracen added, "but it's a damned close thing. Close enough that calling it 'fucking' doesn't feel right to me. Uh, sorry." Jesse's mind had started racing in circles even before Gracen finished speaking. It had started somewhere around the making love portion of what Gracen had just Someone Special - 178

said. It was a good sort of dizziness, regardless of the sentiment being so unexpected. Jesse for damned sure hadn't ever thought that Gracen could be anywhere near feeling that way about him, though he supposed some part of himself, deep down, had hoped. Maybe that was the reason, or at least a portion of it, that Jesse had been so determined not to back down, earlier. Maybe he'd wanted to be sure that Gracen not only liked him and wanted him, but respected him, too, because how could a man like Gracen -- kind and smart and successful -- ever really love someone he couldn't respect? The more Jesse considered it, the more likely it seemed. And if Jesse really thought about his own feelings, he had to admit that he was more than halfway in love with Gracen already. There had just been so much drama, so many responsibilities and problems, that Jesse hadn't had a chance to notice just how far and fast he'd been falling. All that was too much to say right then, though Jesse knew he would, and soon. For the moment, however, there was only one thing he truly needed to make sure Gracen knew. Jesse's hand rose, sliding up Gracen's arm, then over the point of his shoulder, continuing on until finally stopping to rest against Gracen's cheek. "I'd really, really like to make love with you, instead of fucking" he said. "I've… never done that before, but I want to. With you." Jesse had never felt as special as he did when Gracen's tense mouth relaxed, the corners of his lips curving up into the sweetest smile Jesse had ever seen. Gracen was… radiant. It was a look Jesse was going to do everything in his power to see again, and again. Then Gracen's sweet smile was on Jesse's mouth and those wonderfully skilled hands started drawing cries Someone Special - 179

and moans from Jesse that Gracen swallowed, and when Gracen finally pushed him onto his back and pressed latex-sheathed heat inside Jesse's body, Jesse understood the difference between what he'd always had before and what he had with Gracen. Not because the actions themselves were so very different because technically, physically, they weren't. Emotionally, though… Oh, it was the difference between night and day, and Jesse was glad that he'd never known what he was missing before. He was equally glad that he'd finally learned. With Gracen. *** Gracen wasn't willing to say so, but Jesse wasn't the only one who'd never made love before. Gracen had thought he'd done so, but he'd been wrong. He'd learned enough about his own feelings to recognize when he was and wasn't in love with someone, or maybe just to know that loving someone and being in love with them were two different things. Either way, whatever he'd felt for lovers before didn't come close to what he was feeling right then, as he slid slowly in and out of Jesse's body. Even without being able to definitively state that he was in love right then, he definitely wasn't just fucking. Jesse wasn't, either, and that was amazing to Gracen. There was such a degree of intensity in those pretty eyes, in the expression of desire and contentedness Jesse wore, that Gracen couldn't doubt they were sharing the sensation of being more joined than they'd ever been before. It was like a declaration, or maybe a promise, even without the fateful words being spoken. Someone Special - 180

"Oh, God," the words left him on a breath as he pressed deep again, feeling Jesse's heels digging into his buttocks, pulling Gracen close even as Gracen sank into Jesse again. "God, Jesse! God!" "Uh-huh. Uh-huh." Jesse seemed to be beyond words, and that was fine. More than fine, it was perfect. Then Jesse's hands -- one on Gracen's ribs, the other fisted lightly in Gracen's hair -- pulled at him, dragging him lower until Gracen's mouth was on Jesse's, their lips brushing repeatedly, though it wasn't exactly a kiss. It was comfort and an affirmation of sorts, Gracen realized. It was Jesse's need to be joined in more than the carnal but loving way they already were. It fed into Gracen's own need, somehow, and made the intimacy of what they were doing even more intense, more focused, though that shouldn't have been possible. The overwhelming tenderness of the moment threatened to be Gracen's undoing, and he fought it with every fiber of his being that wasn't currently consumed with loving Jesse. Then Jesse released one sharp, stuttered cry, and Gracen couldn't resist anymore. With Jesse's "A-a-a-ah!" still vibrating against his mouth, Gracen stilled, balls-deep inside the tight heat that was his lover, and exhaled something even less coherent than Jesse's cry as he spilled himself, shuddering with pleasure, into the latex rather than Jesse's body. Gracen's collapse wasn't slow. It was rapid and immediate, though not rough. He managed to keep himself from slamming his full weight onto Jesse all at once, his body falling in hurried increments from their most personal point of joining until his face was buried in Jesse's shoulder while they both shook. He would need to move soon; Gracen knew that. He just wasn't Someone Special - 181

ready or able quite yet. Judging by the way Jesse was holding him so tightly, Gracen was fine right where he was for at least another few seconds. Seconds turned to minutes and still Jesse held him. Gracen couldn't find a single reason to complain. He felt wrung out but brand new, in an odd sort of way he couldn't have explained even to save his own life, right then, and maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he did already love Jesse. It was possible, Gracen decided, his mind working even while his body wasn't ready to. It was entirely possible that he'd missed the moment when like had turned to love. It was equally possible that what he'd assumed to be himself coming closer and closer to loving Jesse was actually the sensation of coming closer to being in love. He'd never experienced that before, after all, so he might not have noticed or known. Eventually, no matter how much Gracen wanted to stay right where he was, he needed to move. Mostly because he needed to get rid of the condom, but also because he figured Jesse would get tired of supporting his full weight any minute. Even so, a certain degree of regret filled him at pushing himself up and pulling from the blissful warmth of Jesse's core. Jesse seemed equally reluctant, but they managed to uncouple for just a few moments. Long enough for Gracen to strip off the rubber and drop it into the bin beside the bed. He considered going into the bathroom to clean up more, and even thought about returning with a cloth to tidy Jesse a little, but it didn't happen. Jesse stretched an arm out for him and Gracen couldn't bring himself to leave the bed. They still had some basking to do and the shower wouldn't stop existing, no matter how long they waited to make use of it. Someone Special - 182

He moved back to Jesse's side, pressing himself along the length of the man. One hand rested on Jesse's chest, close enough to feel Jesse's heart beating almost directly under his palm. Jesse's arm was around him, not exactly comfortable against Gracen's ribs with the mattress beneath, but fuck if Gracen was going to complain. They would end up shifting a bit later, he was sure. For the moment, things were just about perfect, or close enough to it that Gracen couldn't imagine anything better. "Why me?" Jesse asked a short while later, but he sounded happy-curious rather than suspicious-curious. "You're an amazing guy, Gracen, and I'm thrilled to be with you, but why me?" Gracen laughed and pressed even closer to Jesse though they were already skin to skin. He tilted his head a little, pressing a simple kiss to the curve of Jesse's jaw. "Because you inspire me." That was the short answer. "Because you asked me out even when you thought I was just some mall photographer. Because you made me laugh and feel happy whenever we were together and you still do." He kissed Jesse's jaw again. "Because I've spent my whole life dreaming about having someone special. Someone who would look at me and see more than just an average guy. Someone who would think I'm special, too. And that's how you make me feel, Jesse. Every minute I spend with you, I feel special and blessed and happy, just because I know you're mine." For the moment, Jesse really was his, and Gracen was determined to enjoy it. Jesse was silent for close to a minute, and Gracen started to worry that he'd said too much, too soon. Jesse had been right in the kitchen, after all. They'd only been together for a few weeks, though it felt like much longer Someone Special - 183

to Gracen. That might have been because so much of the last week and a half or so had been so emotionally charged, but Gracen didn't care. He felt what he felt, regardless of something as insignificant as time. That was no guarantee that Jesse felt the same way, though Gracen still wanted to believe he did, no matter the concerns Jesse's silence was creating. "You know," Jesse finally responded, "you just said that way better than I ever could. I just… the way you stuck with me when I told you about my mom -- and I know she's not really my mom, but she's the only mother I remember -- that was fucking epic for me. Every single minute I've spent with you, you've made me feel like I mattered, like I was important and worthwhile and… yeah. What you said. Special." Jesse laughed softly, his arm tightening just enough that Gracen wondered if they could possibly be any closer and hoped they could. "You even put up with my bitch of a sister, and believe me, she's run off more guys than I can even count. Most of them her own dates!" Gracen had to laugh at that. Loudly, even though it bled off some of the sensation of intimacy he'd been enjoying so much. "Jasmine is not a bitch!" he insisted, sitting up beside Jesse. Losing the pressure of Jesse's arm against his ribs was actually something of a relief. Judging by the way Jesse flexed his arm as he sat up seemed to imply that Gracen wasn't the only one who'd been a bit uncomfortable. "She's just… stubborn. And protective of you since you're all she had left. For the record, I like her." Jesse grinned and leaned in, brushing a simple kiss over Gracen's lips that Gracen truly enjoyed. "I'm glad, but what do you mean 'had'? I'm still… I don't know how to say it. Shit." Someone Special - 184

"She still has you," Gracen said simply, "but she has me now, too, because I intend to be in your life for a really long time, Jesse, and you and Jazz are a package deal. I've known that for a while now. I'd like her even if she wasn't your sister, though. I'm just glad she doesn't hate me because that would be… difficult. Especially since… uh, for the record, I think I'm probably going to be completely ass-over-elbows in love with you sometime soon. I hope that's okay, but even if it's not, it's still going to happen." Jesse was silent again, though this time Gracen could see his face. He could see that Jesse was trying to decide what to say, rather than being freaked out or scared. "I. 'Okay' doesn't even come close," Jesse finally said, all of three seconds that seemed like years later. "I'm kind of right there with you, no matter how little time we've been dating… or whatever the hell it is we've been doing." The relief that flooded through Gracen then had his tongue looser than he'd planned on. "It was dating, it still is dating, even if most of it was having lunch in my car, and I don't care what anyone says about that." *** The bout of lovemaking that followed Gracen's declaration only had Jesse more convinced that he'd somehow stumbled onto the perfect man for him. Just looking at Gracen, sweaty and sated and flushed from exertion, Jesse couldn't believe that he'd ever thought Gracen was average looking. Gracen was anything but. He was absolutely gorgeous and definitely the best looking man Jesse had ever seen. And all his. Someone Special - 185

That was the part Jesse still couldn't quite wrap his head around -- that Gracen was his and was happy about it. Gracen could do so much better, but fuck it if Jesse was ever going to say so again. He'd given Gracen more than one opportunity to walk away and Gracen hadn't done it, so as far as Jesse was concerned, he could hold on as tightly as necessary. That Gracen even liked Jazz was yet another reason to keep the man as happy as humanly possible. Who else would be able to accept Jesse's past and Jesse's sister with so much good nature? Even if Jesse hadn't been so close to head-over-heels for Gracen, that would have had him determined to make things work. He was about an inch away from being totally in love with Gracen, though, and that inch kept shrinking. That Jazz had made it clear that she approved of Gracen only made things better. That Gracen approved of Jazz, too? That was just the icing on the proverbial cake. None of which made what Jesse needed to say next any easier. "Um. What you said earlier." God, he really did feel like an idiot. "About Veronica and… and calling it a loan." Christ. "I don't have. I mean, I…" Jesse trailed off, not sure how to say it considering the fuss he'd made. Gracen's gaze was dreamy and unfocused for a moment longer, but then he seemed to gather himself and Jesse felt like shit for forcing him out of the postorgasmic haze Gracen had been in. God, it could have waited until morning, for fuck's sake. "No worries, baby," Gracen said, and Jesse sighed softly with relief when Gracen's hand on his side didn't tense but kept up the slow stroking motion from moment before. "I told you I don't mind. I'll pay her; you'll pay me back. I'll even charge you interest, if you want, but Someone Special - 186

not with any stupid 'compounded daily' bullshit or whatever the banks do, okay?" Gracen yawned and it reminded Jesse of how late it was. "Now will you close your eyes and sleep? Your paper job starts in, like…" Gracen started to turn to look at the clock, apparently, and Jesse stopped him with a kiss. "I've actually accepted a new job," Jesse said, happy to be able to surprise Gracen. "That's why I didn't mind missing tonight at Welling's. The new gig will let me have just the one job and still pay the bills, I think, and the newspaper will likely be relieved if I don't show up tomorrow. Their circulation has been going down anyway, what with the internet and all." Instead of calming Gracen, that only seemed to make him more alert. "That's great, Jesse! The new job, not the thing about the paper. And once Veronica gets us the paperwork on Kristi Bates… uh, never mind, okay?" Jesse snorted and pulled away just a bit from Gracen. "What? And don't tell me 'never mind' again. You're thinking something and I want to know what." Gracen's lips twisted just a bit and Jesse frowned. "I won't be mad. I think we're past that now." He really did. Now that he knew Gracen wasn't seeing him as a child in need of assistance, anyway. "Tell me." Gracen sighed a little. "Fine. I was just thinking that… if it turns out that your father and Kristi Bates were never actually married -- even if you think of her as your mother -- then maybe you should think about whether you really want to keep the house. I mean, I get why you did. At least, I assume I get why you did. If the mortgage was in your parents' names, it would have been nearly impossible for you to have it transferred to you when you were nineteen, so it made more sense to keep paying it off, if only so you and Jazz would have a Someone Special - 187

roof over your heads. But you're twenty-five now, and once you can prove that Kristi Bates wasn't your mother, if the mortgage is in your father's name only, as your father's heirs, you and Jazz can sell the house if you want to. Maybe even if the woman you thought was your mom is on there. The real estate market kind of sucks, but it's an option, you know? Uh, I'm not saying you should, but it's a lot of house for just the two of you." Gracen was right about why Jesse had kept the house. He wasn't sure about selling it, but he didn't need to be. Not yet. God knew how long it might take to sort everything out, after all. Jesse had time. And he really wasn't mad that Gracen was thinking about ways to make Jesse's life easier. Not having to pay the mortgage would definitely make things less stressful, anyway, though it would still leave the question of where he and Jazz would live if they sold the house. That was a concern for another day, though, and Jesse moved in closer to Gracen, eliminating the distance he'd created with his question. "I'll think about it," he said, breathing in the scent of his man, of their mingled musk. "Later," Jesse clarified, letting his eyes drift shut. "I'll think about it later. Maybe tomorrow. Right now I really just want to hold on to you and sleep, okay?" He felt Gracen's lips brush his closed eyelids and Jesse smiled. "Sleep, baby," Gracen murmured, and Jesse smiled more.

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Chapter Fourteen It was an oddly jolly Christmas Eve. The lights had been strung around the tree for two days already, but it was only that night that the ornaments were being placed with differing amounts of care. "Come on, Jazz," Gracen heard Jesse say loudly. "It's glass, for fuck's sake! You can't just throw it on there!" "Bite me, butt-boy," Jazz answered just as bluntly. "It's from the dollar store! And I bought it, so I can break it if I want to! What's Christmas without at least a little broken glass?" Gracen didn't quite understand what broken glass had to do with Christmas, but Jesse laughed, so Gracen did, too. Even in the kitchen, getting drinks for Jesse, Jazz, Alonzo, and -- surprisingly enough -- Veronica Carey, he laughed. He laughed even more when he emerged from the kitchen to see Alonzo trying to make a garland of fake holly stick to the wall with nothing but transparent tape while Veronica looked on, smirking. He still wasn't sure about how Alonzo and Veronica had been added to the gathering, but Gracen couldn't bring himself to mind. Alonzo was always welcome in his home, and Veronica… well, she'd been the one to truly set Jesse's mind at ease, and as such, Gracen held her in high esteem and affection. She was a nice lady, under her blunt and slightly gruff exterior, and that only made him happier to have her there. "Drinks," Gracen announced, and just like that, everything else going on stopped as the four playful Someone Special - 189

people swarmed on Gracen and the tray he held as though they were locusts. "Thanks, babe," Jesse whispered into Gracen's ear, and Gracen shivered just a bit at that warm breath. Then Jesse kissed him right below his jaw, and Gracen nearly dropped the tray. God, the way Jesse affected him should be illegal. "You're welcome," Gracen answered, setting the tray down on the coffee table before he could drop it and spill the final drink that remained -- his own. He took a long sip, watching as the rest returned to their decorating, and Gracen was fine with that. He loved being surrounded by friends, some of whom were family as far as his heart was concerned. He loved that his friends were helping to decorate the tree and were obviously enjoying themselves. He especially loved that Jesse was a part of it, helping to create a new tradition in Gracen's heart. Someone -- probably Jazz, Gracen decided, because she was closest to the entertainment center -- started Christmas music playing, and soon enough they were all singing along, bouncing a little to the beat of the modern holiday classics. Rocking Around the Christmas Tree, Feliz Navidad, Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. It was all in good fun. The best fun, really. Finally, after being so afraid it would never happen, Gracen had someone special in his life. A lover to share Christmas with, and the rest of the year, too. He had Jesse, and Gracen was going to keep him. No matter what they said about relationships that started with huge amounts of drama being fated to fail, Gracen was keeping Jesse for as long as he possibly could. Maybe it wouldn't last forever, but… Someone Special - 190

The idea of losing Jesse someday had him feeling gutted. The concept alone was painful. Then Jesse was right there in front of him, a bit of tinsel still held in one hand, and Gracen couldn't manage to articulate what he was feeling. All he could do was stare at Jesse and try to hold back the tears that wanted to slip from his eyes. He didn't know what Jesse saw, but the sharp gaze Gracen was receiving softened and Jesse nodded a little before wrapping his arms around Gracen's body. "I know," Jesse whispered into his ear. "God, Gracen, I know. Me too, okay? Me too." Gracen breathed deeply against Jesse's shoulder, his face tucked into the curve of his lover's neck. He thought he knew what Jesse was saying, but he couldn't be sure. Not without hearing the words, and it was shocking to him that he felt so insecure all of a sudden. It was just that damned song. Insecure or not, Gracen had never been a coward and he wasn't about to start then. "So you love me?" he asked, his own voice just as soft as Jesse's had been. "I know it seems fast, Jesse. I know it does. But I do. I love you. Hell, more than that. I've gone and fallen in love with you, and… tell me. Whether you feel it or not, just tell me where we stand." Jesse's arms wrapped even tighter around him and that gave Gracen even more hope. Then Jesse spoke, and Gracen felt that hope fading away, replaced by something better. Stronger. More real than mere hope could ever be. "You're the one," Jesse said, sounding so sure and easy that Gracen couldn't doubt him. "You're it, Gracen. And thank fucking God that I went looking for work at the mall. Thank God that they hired me… and thank God that you said yes when I asked you out." Jesse's lips Someone Special - 191

felt warm and wonderful against his neck. "If any of those things hadn't happened, we wouldn't be here right now, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be." Gracen wasn't entirely sure he agreed that they wouldn't be together without the mall job, but he didn't bother to say so. He was convinced that he and Jesse would have met eventually, even without the elf-gig. They were simply too right together for him to believe anything else. No matter what, he was sure that he and Jesse would have met. Maybe not soon enough, though, considering how Jesse had been so sure of sharing his supposed mother's illness. "Me either," Gracen whispered. Then Jesse's mouth was on his again, and Gracen was willing to believe he'd been granted a miracle. A Christmas miracle. "Ugh," Gracen heard Jazz complain. "They're always like this! All… sexual and stuff. Aren't they old enough to need Viagra to be that groiny? It's gross!" Her voice was teasing, so Gracen ignored it. "To be fair, they are under the mistletoe," Veronica answered. It had to be Veronica. She was the only other woman there. Jazz grumbled, sounding playful. "Whatever. Hey, Alonzo! Put this ornament up there for me! You're way taller than I am! No, not there! To the left! God, not that much! To the right! Ugh! Are you entirely stupid? Jeez!" Gracen found himself laughing into Jesse's mouth, but that was fair enough since Jesse was doing the same. "We're so screwed," Jesse said as they leaned against each other. "Between my sister and your best friend, we're completely and utterly screwed." Gracen chuckled and rested his forehead against Jesse's. "Yeah… and I wouldn't have it any other way. Someone Special - 192

It's nice to have…" He paused, not certain of how to explain what he felt without reminding Jesse of unpleasant things. "Family," Jesse finished for him, and Gracen nodded. "It's good to have family. Even if they're chosen, not inherited. Maybe even more good if they're chosen." Gracen couldn't even begin to argue with that so he just kissed Jesse again. They were under the mistletoe, after all. Not kissing Jesse again would have been insulting. *** Things weren't perfect. Jesse knew that much. But they were as close to it as he had any right to hope for. His lover -- and God, it didn't even feel awkward to call Gracen that, which was a minor miracle in and of itself… his lover was actually that. Gracen loved him. And Jesse for damned sure loved Gracen. He hadn't made a conscious choice to do so, but if he'd been offered a choice, he'd have done just that. Chosen to love Gracen. Gracen was strong and smart and fucking beautiful -- to Jesse, anyway. He would never take it for granted that Gracen felt the same way about him, and kissing Gracen openly and obviously under the mistletoe earlier hopefully made that clear. Not just to Gracen, but to Gracen's best friend, Alonzo. Jesse had met Alonzo, but he doubted the man trusted him, and Jesse couldn't blame him. It all seemed so tawdry on the surface. Successful photographer, younger guy with numerous jobs, less than a month, and… yeah. Jesse was sure that Alonzo didn't think too much of him.

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"I'm not using him," Jesse told Alonzo when Gracen went back to the kitchen for more drinks. "I know you have to be wondering, but I'm not." Alonzo snorted. "At the risk of sounding schoolyard, duh. If you were, he would know and you wouldn't even be here. Besides," the man went on, "Veronica likes you, and that's saying a lot. And I like your sister. I can't believe she's a lesbian." "I'm a what?" Jazz demanded, glaring at Alonzo, and Jesse chose that moment to extract himself from the situation. He headed for the kitchen and almost collided with Gracen when he pushed through the doorway. "Um, you might not want to go out there just yet. Jazz just heard Alonzo call her a lesbian. Sorry. I meant to warn her, but I sort of… didn't." Gracen laughed and set the tray of drinks down on the kitchen table. "Honestly?" he said, reaching out and pulling Jesse close, which Jesse didn't fight at all, "I figured that would come out eventually. And if that's the worst we have to deal with…? It's worth it. You're still my 'someone special.' I really do love you, baby. But I get it if you're not there yet. It's fine." Oh, for fuck's sake. Not there yet? Jesse rolled his eyes and kissed Gracen hard. "I love you," he said, though those words had him shivering just a little. Even with Gracen having said them first. "I do love you, Gracen. I thought that was clear before, but apparently not. And I want us to get tested. Together. I've never done anything unsafe, but I'd rather be completely sure before we go to that level, and I don't care if whatever we learn means we need to keep using protection. That's how much I mean it when I say I love you. I don't even Someone Special - 194

care that it's so soon or that it seems too fast. We're connected somehow, and I don't want to change that." "We'll go to my doctor as soon as we have time off at the same time," Gracen answered. "And just so you know, I've never done anything without latex before… aside from sucking your cock last night, baby. And the time before that. Only yours. I guess maybe I knew before I knew." Laughter rang out from the living room and Jesse had to admit that it seemed like whatever drama had been starting out there was done. "We should finish this later," he said with a sigh, but Gracen pulled him closer and Jesse couldn't find any reason to object when Gracen's soft, warm lips closed over his own. "There's no 'finish' to this," Gracen said as he pulled away, and Jesse had to admit that Gracen was right. "We're just starting out. And we won't stop. Not ever. Just love me, okay?" "For the rest of my life," Jesse answered without a single qualm. "I couldn't stop even if I wanted to." Gracen released a shuddering breath. "Good," he said against Jesse's neck, that shaky tone only making Jesse more determined to love his man as deeply as it took to convince Gracen that he meant it. Forever. *** There wasn't time to drag Jesse off and indulge in the things Gracen wanted to indulge in. Nor was there opportunity. They had friends and family -- same thing, aside from Veronica, really -- to socialize with. Even so, Gracen didn't mind so much. Someone Special - 195

Would he have preferred to take Jesse to bed right then? Definitely. Was he willing to kick Jazz and Alonzo and Veronica out to do so on Christmas Eve? Not even a little bit. They decorated and laughed, drank and sang -tunelessly in Gracen's case -- and traded stories about their best Christmases. That Jesse and Jasmine didn't have much to contribute to that last only made Gracen more determined that the future would be different. They eventually sat down to the catered dinner Gracen had arranged, which had only needed to be reheated, and there was so little food left that he and Jesse would be hard pressed to have more than a couple of sandwiches the next day. That was assuming Jesse wanted to stay over, which wasn't certain. Gracen wanted him to, but that would leave Jazz alone on Christmas Eve, and possibly Christmas Day, as well, and after as many years as Gracen had experienced lonely Christmases, he wasn't about to sentence Jazz to that. "I guess you need to go home, huh?" Gracen murmured as the party wound down. They'd all left the kitchen after the culinary offerings had been more or less decimated and were enjoying the twinkling lights of the tree. Alonzo was groaning on the couch, rubbing his stomach every now and again while Veronica seemed to be taking great joy in poking said stomach every few minutes, apparently just to hear Alonzo moan in the notso-fun way. Gracen couldn't be sure, but he thought Alonzo might be getting into Veronica's pants sooner than either of the two thought. Jazz, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying lying on the floor and staring up at the tree. She was smiling, Someone Special - 196

her lips curved in a simple, innocent expression Gracen wouldn't have believed if he hadn't been seeing it himself. He and Jesse sat snuggled close in the big chair near the couch. They weren't quite on top of each other, but it was close enough. Gracen could have dragged Jesse into his lap with just a minor degree of effort. Of course, the same was possible in reverse, too. Neither of them was trying, though. "Do you need to go home tonight?" It was worth asking, though Gracen hadn't gotten his hopes up. "Probably," Jesse answered on a sigh. "I don't want to, but… sorry. It's a family thing, I guess." Gracen nodded, doing his best to seem unaffected. "It's fine," he said, even though it wasn't. It was his first Christmas with Jesse. He for damned sure wanted to wake up with the man pressed against him. But Jesse came with baggage. Gracen had known that already. Christmas Eve didn't make that baggage any less real. "I'll miss you, but it's fine. Can you come back tomorrow? I'd just… I'd really love to see you, baby." Jesse leaned in and pressed a kiss to Gracen's mouth and Gracen fought to keep the kiss chaste enough for the company around them. "I'll come back," Jesse answered. "Believe me, I'll definitely come back. I. Shit. I really do love you, Gracen." Gracen's entire body clenched at hearing it. Not in a bad way. Not at all. It was just the first time Jesse had said it on his own, rather than in response to Gracen saying it first or tempting the words. "I love you too," Gracen whispered, wishing they were alone. He loved Alonzo -- the guy was his best friend as well as his agent -- and he cared a great deal Someone Special - 197

for Jazz. He even liked Veronica, but Gracen truly wished all three of them were somewhere else right then. "I know you have to go. I just wish you could be here when I wake up. I…" Gracen smiled as much as he was able. "It's been a really long time since I've had someone with me for Christmas. But it's okay, baby. I'll deal." He would have to, wouldn't he? Jesse snuggled closer in the big chair. "I'll come back. We both will, just as soon as I can get Jazz to wake up. I want to be with you, too." Alonzo groaned again, louder this time. Then, "Christ, woman, are you trying to make me puke?" he demanded and Gracen was hard pressed not to laugh. He lost that battle when he heard Veronica reply with "Why is it that boys always do things to excess? Like stuffing themselves even more than pigs could manage? Now get your ass up off the couch. It's getting late and I'll feel like shit if I don't make sure you get down to your place in one piece. As bloated as you are, you could fall down the elevator shaft, given the smallest amount of opportunity." It seemed like mere seconds but it must have been close to ten minutes before Veronica managed to maneuver Alonzo up and out, with many thanks for having her to holiday dinner. However long it had been, eventually it was just Gracen, Jesse and Jazz left. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Gracen said, addressing his words to both Jesse and Jasmine, though he couldn't quite force himself to look at Jazz. He wanted to imprint the way Jesse looked right then on his mind so he could remember it when he finally fell asleep. "I guess so," Jesse agreed, though he didn't seem to be in any more hurry to end the evening than Gracen Someone Special - 198

was. "I'd say 'early,' but Jazz never gets up before noon unless she has classes." Gracen nodded. "Makes sense. I'm not exactly a morning person either. So I guess I'll see you." God, how many times was he going to say the same thing? Jesse nodded. "I guess so. Tomorrow. Um, at some point." "Oh, for…" Jazz sounded entirely impatient. "If you two have your way, you'll still be standing here saying goodnight long after the sun's up in the morning. Jesse, just bite the fucking bullet. Invite Gracen over. I'd say we could both stay here, but I'm not a big fan of sleeping on couches. Besides, I don't have a toothbrush or anything with me." Gracen shrugged at the question in Jesse's eyes. He hadn't even considered the prospect of staying at Jesse and Jasmine's, but he wasn't opposed. In fact, if his choices were between being in his own bed all alone or being in Jesse's bed with Jesse? He didn't even need to think about it. "Let me grab a few things. I won't be more than a minute or two." Hell, all he really needed was a change of underwear and his toothbrush. Maybe a fresh shirt for the morning. Gracen doubted he'd need latex or lube. Jazz's room was right down the hall from Jesse's, after all, and it would be weird to make love when Jasmine might hear them. He still threw the somewhat battered tube and a few condoms into his bag before returning to the living room. "I'm all set. We can go whenever you're ready." Jazz laughed and rolled her eyes. "What a shock. I'll drive our car. I have a feeling it'll be a more peaceful commute if Jesse rides with you." Someone Special - 199

As Gracen couldn't really disagree, he merely smiled and nodded as the three of them left his apartment and got on the elevator for the garage. *** For the first time in more years than Jesse could remember, he woke up on Christmas morning with a smile on his face. He also woke with a mouth wrapped around his cock, and that was definitely something he'd never experienced on Christmas. He moaned softly, hands pushing under the covers to tangle in long, silky hair that he knew was the perfect shade of red. "Gracen," he groaned, hips starting a slow pistoning motion between wet, sucking heat and the sheets beneath him. "God, babe…" He tried to keep his voice down, knowing Jazz was just down the hall, but screw it. She'd been the one who'd suggested bringing Gracen back to the house. It was entirely her fault if she heard something she'd rather not. Besides, the light filtering through the sheer curtains made it obvious that it was far too early for Jazz to be awake. And that was enough thinking about his sister. Gracen murmured something -- Jesse didn't know what, because the sound was muffled and indistinct, probably due to Gracen's mouth being full right then -and Jesse groaned again as the vibration traveled from sensitive tip to his already tight balls. His fingers dug deeper into Gracen's hair, just holding on, rather than guiding or pressing. Jesse needed the contact, just to keep from flying off the face of the Earth, it felt like. Gracen's mouth pulled away and God help him, but Jesse actually heard himself whine. "Gracccennnn…" Then that mouth was back, lips sliding over turgid flesh, Someone Special - 200

tongue tracing veins, and a hand Jesse hadn't noticed on his hip let go, moving between his legs and rolling his sac just a little while Gracen's too-talented mouth continued tormenting Jesse's cock. It was tortuous, in the best possible way, and only became more so when Gracen shifted and Jesse felt hard, wet heat sliding against his own calf, Gracen's prick painting small streaks of pre-come where it rubbed. The mouth Jesse loved so much closed over him again, tongue drawing circles around his tip as Gracen sucked slowly, and Jesse arched, his body falling into the rhythm Gracen's amazing mouth dictated. It was slow and hot and far too consuming, and all the while Jesse couldn't think about anything but the sensations of fingers and lips, Gracen's tongue, and teeth that just barely pressed against his sensitive flesh. Gracen made more of those rumbling, mumbling sounds-as-vibration, and that was almost enough… and then one of the fingers sliding across Jesse's sac dipped back, pressed ever so lightly at his hole, and Jesse tried not to shout as he came, spilling roughly, wildly into Gracen's sucking mouth. He was panting, sucking harsh breaths in and forcing them back out as though he'd just run a race, and maybe he had, Jesse figured. His hands still rested on Gracen's head, red strands between his fingers. Gracen's mouth was still on his cock, too, though the suction had eased a bit. "Jesus Christ," Jesse moaned, his dick starting to ache a little from the continued attentions. "God, I love you." It got easier to say every time. Deeper, too. It wasn't that saying it made it more true, but it made Jesse more aware, every time, and it felt… good. Way better than Someone Special - 201

he'd ever thought it would, even when he'd expected to never have the chance to say those words to anyone, much less someone like Gracen. Someone so… fuck it. So pure. Pure and kind and good… and his. Gracen pulled away from his cock with a soft popping sound, and Jesse couldn't decide whether he was happy or sad that his too-sensitive flesh was no longer encased in that sweet heat. Then Gracen grunted something, and Jesse felt stubble against his navel, a hot, shuddering breath blowing across his skin. Those oddly sensual touches were followed swiftly by the sensation of Gracen's prick throbbing, then hot, viscous seed rushing over Jesse's leg. Jesse forced himself to release Gracen's hair, though he kept one hand under the covers, resting on Gracen's shoulder while the other rose to throw back the sheets. His breath was still slightly shuddering, but Jesse laughed quietly when Gracen's head tilted back a little, those pretty green eyes meeting his gaze. "Merry Christmas," Jesse said simply, at a loss for how to express everything that filled him right then. "Mmm." Gracen smiled, a slow, sweet turn of the lips that had Jesse wanting to taste the languid joy of it. "Merry first Christmas, baby. I'm planning on having at least forty or fifty more together." Gracen followed the words with a flex and stretch that somehow had him braced above Jesse. Jesse wasn't sure how Gracen had managed it so simply, but there was no denying the truth of it. One moment, Gracen's mouth had been at Jesse's stomach, and the next? Right there, less than an inch above Jesse's own lips. Jesse swallowed the sudden, unexpected lump that formed in his throat and let his hands move to cup Gracen's cheeks. "I can live with that," Jesse answered, Someone Special - 202

his heart pounding harder and faster than it had done while he'd spent himself in Gracen's mouth just moments before. "I can totally live with that, Gracen." That mouth lingered just that scant distance above his own, and Jesse tried to pull Gracen's down, tried to form that closeness into a kiss, but Gracen took a slow breath and nodded. "Do you think you can live with me?" he asked, looking a little pensive. "I know you have this house and everything, but do you think… maybe someday?" He didn't even need to think about it, Jesse realized. In fact, he was already answering, his heart speaking up before his mind could stop it. Not that he wanted to stop it, really. "Someday very, very soon," Jesse answered sincerely. He didn't have a chance to say anything else because Gracen chose that moment to close the distance between them, his lips pressing against Jesse's, the tongue Jesse loved sliding inside to tangle with Jesse's own. There were so many things to say, like… Jesse wasn't attached to the house, particularly, but it was a good place for Jazz to have because Jesse loved his sister but he didn't want her living with him and Gracen when they eventually did move in together. Like… living with Gracen was the best thing Jesse could imagine, though he knew it wouldn't always be easy. They were grown men and had their own ideas and opinions, and Jesse was sure they wouldn't always agree on everything. Money was likely to be one of those things because Gracen had it, while Jesse didn't, and Jesse was determined to be an equal partner in their relationship. Gracen didn't seem to think money was a big deal, and maybe that was normal for people who'd always had it, but it was a very big deal to Jesse. Someone Special - 203

Even so, Gracen had been right, the night before. Most relationships really did fail because of financial concerns, and Jesse wasn't going to let himself be uptight enough to let that happen. He flung himself more fully into the kiss, mapping Gracen's teeth and soft palate greedily, taking in the taste of his lover's mouth and his own spunk. His hands left Gracen's face, only to slide down arms and underneath, until Jesse could embrace Gracen, fingers splayed over his spine. No matter what happened, Jesse decided, he wasn't giving up Gracen. They would find a way through anything. They'd both been so alone and had somehow found each other. They'd both found love and a sense of belonging that Jesse couldn't dismiss. They fit, and that was something Jesse had never really dared to dream of, much less hope for. They would make it work. He could just tell. "This is the best Christmas ever," he murmured against Gracen's lips a while later, when their kiss had become a soft, slow, easy rub of mouth on mouth. Gracen smiled and pulled back just a tiny bit. Just enough for Jesse to see his eyes, shining in the midmorning winter light that made it through the window coverings. "It is," he agreed. "But next year will be even better. I'm planning to make every year better than the one before. And not just for Christmas." Jesus fucking Christ, that was one hell of a promise to make. An even bigger one to live up to, and yet… Jesse had no doubt that Gracen would do everything possible to make it happen. "So will I," he answered, pulling Gracen down onto him again, reveling in the weight of his lover. "We're going to be happy, right?" Someone Special - 204

Gracen chuckled. Jesse felt it against the crook of his neck. "We are. We'll probably have our moments when we're not, but that's what love and family is all about, baby. Having someone special there with you for the bad times, not just the good ones. Holding on and dealing with all of it. Finding the small, shining moments that we might otherwise miss. So, yeah. We're going to be happy. All of us, but especially you and me." Their next kiss would have led to more, if not for the sudden and incredibly loud banging at Jesse's bedroom door. "Stop that," Jazz demanded from the hallway. "I can hear your lips smacking! It's Christmas morning and I'm hungry, so get up, please take a shower, and get your butts to the kitchen! I'm making my famous Mexican toast! Then we're going back to Gracen's to open presents!" Jesse groaned as he heard Jazz stomp off. "We should have stayed at your place. She wouldn't have been willing to 'cook' for us there." Gracen rolled a bit, ending up at Jesse's side, and Jesse would have laughed at the fear he recognized in Gracen's eyes if he hadn't been feeling it, too. "What the hell is Mexican toast?" he asked, biting his lip. Jesse wanted to take over the biting duties, but he knew exactly where that would lead and it would take much longer than the fifteen minutes it would take Jazz to make good on her cooking threat. "She thinks it's like French toast," he explained as he hurriedly rolled away from Gracen and out of the bed. "Except it's this sweet sort of bread Jazz likes and she soaks it in a mix of milk, eggs, cayenne pepper, Tabasco, and honey. Then she fries it in oil and tops it Someone Special - 205

with salsa and guacamole. Trust me, we do not want to give her the chance to poison us!" "Oh, God." Gracen looked nauseated, and Jesse couldn't blame him. "That sounds…" "I know! So get a move on!" Jesse was already wearing boxers and a T-shirt and was pulling jeans out of his dresser drawer. That was how frantic he was. "If she cracks even the first egg, we're stuck!" As fast as Jesse had moved, Gracen left him in the dust. By the time Jesse got his jeans on and shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers, Gracen was out of bed and wearing the pants and shirt that had decorated Jesse's bedroom floor less than a minute earlier. "Shoes!" Jesse almost shouted the word, and Gracen gave him a look that said Jesse was nuts. "I can drive without shoes. I can't drive while my innards are exploding." Good point, really, so Jesse followed Gracen out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, where Jazz sat at the table with a smug little grin on her face. "Took you guys long enough," she said. "So, where are we going for breakfast? Mexican toast is an acquired taste and not necessarily one you'd want to acquire." Gracen's brows rose, but then he laughed, and Jesse was glad. Even though he'd already heard Gracen say that he liked Jazz, it was good to see that Gracen had meant it. "It's Christmas Day," Gracen said bluntly. "I'm not sure anything's open, other than a few of the fast food places, and I'm not even sure about that. But if you have eggs, we can take them to my place. I may not be a master chef, but I can cook breakfast." Jazz giggled, and Jesse cringed. It wasn't what he was used to from her. "And that's where the presents live," Someone Special - 206

she announced. "Let's go!" She jumped up and grabbed the carton of eggs Jesse hadn't noticed before from the counter, then made a dash for the front door. "Don't worry, I remember how to get to your place, Gracen!" By the time Jesse and Gracen managed to retrieve Gracen's shoes, brush their teeth, and gather Gracen's small bag, Jazz was gone. Jesse slid into the passenger seat of Gracen's car and buckled himself in. "Are you sure you're willing to put up with her?" he asked, trying to sound teasing but failing miserably even to his own ears. "She really is a pain in the ass sometimes." Gracen laughed and pulled out onto the street. "Only sometimes? I think I'm disappointed." One strong hand reached across to rest lightly on Jesse's leg and Jesse slid his own palm under it, enjoying the gentle touch. "Seriously, Jess? So are you. That doesn't mean I love you any less. Besides, Jazz's right. Most of the presents really are at my place." Jesse blinked, turning to look at Gracen's profile while Gracen drove. "What do you mean, 'most of the presents'?" He remembered taking all of them there the day before. Gracen smiled. It wasn't a huge smile from what Jesse could see, until Gracen stopped the car on the side of the residential street closest to the freeway. When Gracen turned, that smile was fucking stunning. Then Gracen spoke and Jesse melted inside. "There's one thing I've wanted all my life. Even before my parents died." Gracen's smile dimmed slightly, then brightened again. "I always wanted someone to love me. Someone I could love. In a notparental way. I've never had that before, and I learned very well that I would never find that under a tree. So Someone Special - 207

most of the presents are at my place, Jesse, but the most important one is right here, riding in my car and holding my hand. You're my special someone. You're the biggest, best present I could ever find. You." Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Again with the giant lump in his throat that needed swallowing. "I. Good." Jesse tried to clear his throat, with dubious success. "Um, I got you a tie. It's stupid and kind of ugly." Gracen leaned closer, barely brushing his mouth over Jesse's. "I'll wear it every day, right up until you get me another, even uglier tie. Then I'll wear that one every day. Fuck, Jesse. I already hit the jackpot. I have you." "I. We." Jesse wasn't sure about what he was trying to say right then, but it didn't matter because Gracen pulled back and took his foot off the brake. "You, too." It was lame, but Gracen didn't seem to mind. In fact, Gracen tossed Jesse a grin that Jesse figured he'd remember forever. He hoped so, anyway. That grin, family other than just Jazz, friends in the form of Alonzo and Veronica… and his very own someone special? Oh, Jesse could live with that. He seemed to be locked into Gracen's challenge of hideous ties, but that was another thing Jesse could live with. Forever. He reached out, letting his hand rest on Gracen's thigh, this time. "I'll find you the ugliest tie in the world, one of these days," Jesse said as a promise of far more than that. "Even if it takes me the rest of our lives." Gracen's smile grew just a little, as did Gracen's cock. Jesse could feel it against the tips of his fingers. "I like the sound of that," Gracen said softly, like he was admitting something that had been questionable Someone Special - 208

before. "I can't swear to getting you ugly novelty items every year, but I'm sure to enjoy your efforts." That was what it was all about, Jesse realized. Give and take. Making each other happy. And he and Gracen could do that. Hell, they were already doing that. It was a good thing. "Merry Christmas," Jesse said again, once they'd passed the front of Gracen's building and saw Jazz and Alonzo clearly arguing but just as clearly enjoying it. "This might be our last quiet moment, so… I love you, Gracen." Gracen sighed softly, sounding happy as he pulled up to the door for the underground garage and the slab of segmented metal started to rise. "I love you too, Jess. More than I ever expected to love anyone. Even when I was imagining finding someone, I never thought I'd feel like this about them. That I do, and it's you? That makes me more than thrilled." Yeah… Jesse felt the same way, too. He would make it clear later, though. After Jazz went back to the house and Alonzo left them alone -- because Jesse just knew Alonzo would be part of their breakfast. He'd been sure enough of it that he'd even gotten Alonzo a gift. That gift was Jesse's elf-hat from the mall, but whatever. It was Christmas and, while Gracen would always be Jesse's someone special, Jazz and Alonzo were special, too. Family. End.

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