Matt sighed happily as he woke wrapped in strong arms, the bulk of his lover’s body pressed up behind him, slow, warm breaths puffing against the back of his neck. His ass throbbed in muted pain from the spanking he’d gotten the night before and he grinned, thinking about how he’d finally provoked John into doing it.

Who knew that all it would take was talking incessantly through a stupid basketball game? Especially one that had been played like, a decade earlier. Matt now blessed the stupid classic sports channel for giving him an easy in.

“Go back to sleep,” John mumbled.

Squirming until he lay face-to-face with the other man, Matt answered, “I can’t. I’m too excited.”

John groaned and his eyes opened, bleary with sleep, as he observed, “The sun isn’t up yet and neither should we be. Close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

“I can’t!” Matt exclaimed. “I mean, there’s so much to do! Lucy’s going to be here in six hours and I totally need to mphff…”

The hand over his mouth prevented him from talking. He glared at his lover, but John only said, “If you utter one more word, I’m not going to spank you ever again, got it?”

Matt’s eyes went wide and he bit his lip to make sure he didn’t say anything as John took his hand away.

“Now. I’m going back to sleep and you’re going to close your eyes and pretend to sleep for at least another two hours. Once the sun’s up, you can do whatever the hell you want, as long as it doesn’t make any noise and I keep sleeping. I’m not getting up on my day off until eleven, got it?”

Matt nodded.

“Good. Turn around and get comfortable.”

Heaving an aggravated sigh, which didn’t count as talking, Matt did as he was told.

* * * *

John watched, amused, as Matt ran around the apartment like a chicken with its head cut off. Every nook and cranny had been cleaned until it shined, a Christmassy candle had been lit, filling the air with a pine smell that competed with an apple pie that actually sat baking in their oven. Who knew that all it took to get Matt to cook and clean was a visit from Lucy? If he’d known how easy an in that gave him, he’d’ve invited her over a lot sooner. She would also be coming over more often, with that kind of incentive.

Speaking of visitors, though, it was time to tell Matt who else was coming over. John had avoided it, not wanting the fairly high-strung young man to freak out and pull a runner. He reached out to snag Matt on his next pass, holding him still.

Matt frowned at him. “I have to finish…”

“Stop,” Matt ordered firmly. “The place looks great, the food’s great, and you’re great. Lucy’s gonna love this. She damn sure never had it from me before you came into the picture, much as I wanted to give it to her.”

Wincing, Matt put his hands on John’s shoulders and replied, “She knows you love her, though. That’s a lot, man.”

John half-smiled at him, tugging him closer. “Thanks, Matty. So listen, I want you to sit and relax, because this is going to be a great day, okay?”

Matt nodded shyly as he said, “It is, isn’t it?”

“It is. And ah, there might be someone else coming.”

Gaze narrowing at him, Matt prompted, “Oh?”

“Yeah. You know, Lucy was so excited that we were going to make a dinner and everything, she invited Holly.”

Matt swallowed visibly and squeaked, “Her mother Holly? Y-your ex-wife Holly?”

“One and the same,” John confirmed, waiting for it.

He didn’t have to wait long, but he did get a nasty surprise. Instead of stomping away and yelling in a tantrum as expected, Matt went pale and started wheezing. He pushed away, struggling to draw in a breath, the sound harsh and painful. At first, John couldn’t figure out what was going on, except maybe a panic attack, and he opened his mouth to order Matt to put his head between his knees, but then the actual, physical type of breathing registered.

It was an asthma attack, a bad one.

“Fuck!” John exclaimed. “Where’s your inhaler? Do you have one?”

He waved wildly towards his desk in the corner and John ran to it, yanking open drawers as the sound of his lover fighting to breathe rang in his ears. He finally found it in the bottom drawer, buried beneath computer parts and wires, and rushed back to Matt.

Matt immediately shook it and then used it, holding in the medicine before coughing violently and repeating the action. John stood waiting, his own chest tight with sympathy and nerves. By the time Matt could draw in a full breath, no longer looking like he was going to pass out, John was ready to call an ambulance.

Grabbing his lover in a tight embrace, John pressed his mouth to the top of the kid’s head. After all this time, he’d assumed that Matt’s reference to being asthmatic had been a heat of the moment joke. Not once had his lover come close to even showing signs that he really might have an asthma attack. Letting out a shaky breath, he muttered, “Jesus, Matty. You really scared me there.”

Unexpectedly, Matt punched him hard enough in the gut to hurt, at least momentarily.

He stepped back and demanded, “What?”

“If you ever. Spring something like. That. On me again,” Matt snapped between breaths. “I move out.”

John believed him. As much and as easily as they’d fallen into a dominant and submissive relationship, Matt was fiercely independent in many ways. It was part of what John loved so much about him; the snark and banter, the stunning brilliance that made him feel like an idiot more often than not, the need to prove he could do anything he set his mind to…all of it was wrapped up in a vulnerability that proved irresistible to John.

Cupping his face, John promised, “I won’t. I’m sorry. I knew you were already stressing over today and didn’t want to add to it.”

“You thought I’d run!” Matt accused.

John grimaced, but nodded and repeated, “I’m sorry.”

Sighing, Matt’s glare lost some of its force as he relented, “Well, I probably would’ve. At least for part of the day.”

Relieved by his lover’s easy forgiveness, John pulled him in close and kissed his soft hair again. “I can call and tell her not to come, but if it helps, Holly really wants to meet you.”

“Yeah, to carve me into little pieces,” Matt muttered.

John laughed softly. “She is pretty good with knives and words, but no. She called me directly to make sure it was okay and we talked. It was…good.”

And it had been, which still surprised the hell out of him. They’d really talked for the first time in a long time. It had been stilted at first, but once they’d gotten through the awkwardness, they’d talked for a good half-hour. In his more cynical moments, John figured she could take him being gay as the reason for their divorce easier than him just being unable to connect with her anymore.

Matt sighed again and said, “Okay. But um, I can hide in the bedroom if I have to, right?”

“If she does anything that makes you uncomfortable, she’s out of here, Matty,” John state firmly. “You’re my family now and this is your home.”

The incredibly shy and pleased look that Matt gave him tugged at every heartstring John had ever had. And then he jumped up and exclaimed, “Shit! The pie!” before running to the kitchen.

Dropping onto the sofa, John breathed deep and shook his head in both fond amusement and relief that nothing more serious had happened. A thought occurred to him and he called out, “Being shot in the leg doesn’t get you an asthma attack, but Holly coming over does?”

Matt peeked out a few seconds later and answered, “Hell, yeah, man! She’s way more dangerous than a bullet.”

John snortd as Matt returned to getting things ready for their first family Christmas. It wasn’t like he could dispute the statement.