xmasdream

Christmas Dreams

Stefano's answer to the 2004 Jade Palace Christmas Challenge, and a nice 'period' at the end of this series.

Timeframe: 6 years after "Courting Lennie";
Christmas 2004.

As Jack McCoy emerged from the 59th and Lexington subway station, a single snow flake landed between his eyes, suggesting that the city might be in for a white Christmas. The ominous clouds above and the mounting darkness seemed to confirm it. People around him rushed for public transportation or frantically tried to hail cabs.

He stood at the curb, gazing down Lexington Avenue, growing depressed as the snow flakes increased. The thought of spending Christmas all alone was revolting.

As he made the decision to hit every bar on or near Lexington Avenue, Jack noticed a blind man walking toward him, tapping his cane back and forth. The old man was dressed in a camel hair overcoat with a jaunty fur cap and had a serene smile on his face. Apparently knowing exactly where the crosswalk was, he stopped and turned, coming abreast of Jack. He calmly stood on the curb, his head cocked to hear traffic sounds, his cane gauging the distance to the asphalt.

The light changed, but a cab recklessly turned onto 59th Street ahead of the crossing pedestrians. When the blind man didn't attempt to cross, Jack realized that he was probably confused.

"Let me help you cross," Jack said, slipping an arm under his and leading him off the curb.

"Thanks," the blind man said, his baritone voice warm and pleasant. Jack looked up into the dark lenses of his glasses and wondered if the man was totally blind. Through the fabric of his overcoat, Jack could feel an ethereal, erotic warmth.

"No problem," he said, acutely turned on by the body heat of the stranger. He led him across 59th Street and down to 58th.

Jack wanted to start a conversation but couldn't. Yet, he had a strong feeling that the blind man could sense his attraction, that his voice would only confirm it. Highly aroused, Jack stared squarely at him, admiring his skin texture, his lanky build, that disarming smile. He vaguely smelled of Old Spice after-shave with a dash of library, as if he'd spent a lot of time around books. After crossing 58th, he tapped the curb with his cane then stepped up to the sidewalk.

"This is my block. Thanks." He gently pulled away from Jack's grasp and continued toward 57th Street.

Feeling stupid, Jack could only stand there, wishing that he had insisted upon getting him to his destination or had at least found out more about him. Cursing himself, he pursued the man, never considering that he was acting impulsively.

Jack followed him into a drug store near the corner of 57th, where he picked up a bag of medication at the pharmacy. While pretending to browse the next aisle, Jack could hear the pharmacist talking to him as if they were good friends. He moved closer to better overhear their conversation.

" . . . some kind of infection," the blind man was saying.
"Oh, that's too bad," said the pharmacist. "He was a great-looking dog. Guess it wasn't so bad, though, being as he wasn't with you that long."
"Oh, I got attached to him, all right, but they insisted on taking him back. I get a German Shepard next week. His name is Captain." That smile again. "Meanwhile, it's solo."
"Hey, I'll get Tony to walk you to the subway."
The blind man pushed the bag of medication inside his coat pocket. "I'll be fine, Nick."
"You sure?" The pharmacist looked out the front window. "It's snowing pretty hard."
"I'm sure. See you later." The blind man turned to leave.
"See ya, Lennie." The pharmacist watched him depart, obviously concerned.

"Lennie," Jack whispered to himself, smiling. "It fits him".

As the snow began to collect on the sidewalk, Jack resumed my obsessive little game, following him west on 57th and into a bookstore near Avenue of the Americas. Again, Jack stayed close to him, eager to learn more. He made his way to the rear of the store, where he was warmly greeted by a young woman. She lifted a shopping bag to the counter and placed a pen in his hand. The bag was half full of books. "You have all six?" Lennie asked.

"No, Mister Briscoe, they back-ordered one of them. They just brailled it last month," she explained. "Give me a call next week. Sign here." She placed his hand atop a pad and watched him sign. "I'll put the receipt inside the bag, okay?"

"Thanks." Lennie groped for the bag and turned to leave. "Jesus, they're heavy! I'm glad you didn't have all of them." He waved and tapped his way toward the door and out onto the increasingly treacherous sidewalk.

"Lennie Briscoe," Jack whispered. He kept following closely, wondering where the blind man would lead him. He didn't care, really. He wanted an adventure. Anything but a holiday weekend in the shabby room he'd rented until he could find an apartment. He reviewed various means of starting a conversation but couldn't think of anything that didn't sound inane. He regarded the decreasing visibility and accumulating slush and snow.

"Hey, it looks pretty slick. How about letting me carry that bag for you?" Or better: "Looks like a blizzard. Let me help you. What train do you take? Small world, so do I! Where do you live? Small world, I live across the street! How about dinner?" Jack blurted out a chuckle at the sappiness of his approach techniques and thought he saw the blind man turn toward him slightly. Jack's pulse quickened.

Crossing Seventh Avenue, the Blind man turned north, coming to a sudden halt within half a block of 58th Street. He turned around, a look of confusion on his face. He was obviously lost. He stood near the curb and seemed to mentally retrace his steps.

As Jack made the decision to come to his aid, Lennie swiftly turned again and continued his original route. Agitated, he furiously tapped his cane from side to side and turned his head back and forth to hear. The snow began to come down harder; Jack walked faster.

Just as the cane was about to tap the 58th Street curb, a skidding cab slammed into the rear of another cab in the intersection. The blind man defensively held up his hands, causing him to stumble off the curb, almost falling under the wheels of a delivery truck making a right turn.

Jack was over him quickly. "You okay?" he asked, helping Lennie to his feet. He could see that Lennie's glasses had been crushed and his right eyebrow was cut and bleeding lightly.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he growled, obviously embarrassed and angry. "Please hand me my cane and books." He took a step and tripped over the curb to the sidewalk.

"Would you please settle down and let me help you?" Jack barked, reaching for the cane. Then he looked around for the books but all he could see was the ripped bag rushing toward a gutter.

"Damn!" Lennie yelled, holding his knee in pain. Jack placed the cane in his palm. "Here. Now hold on while I try to fish your books out."

As Jack attempted to locate Lennie's books in the dark water, another truck sped around the corner, showering him with slush. Feeling the cold wetness permeating his coat, he gave up. "I'm sorry, the books must have gone into the drain."

"Sonofabitch!" Lennie spat.

"Did you hurt your knee?" Jack asked, inspecting his torn trousers, then glancing up into his eyes. They were a stunning blue and looked free of disease. "Where do you live? I'll get you home."
"Just get me to the subway station." Lennie answered, struggling to get up.
Taking out a handkerchief, Jack dabbed at Lennie's face. "You cut your eyebrow."
"Is it bleeding?"
"Not badly. Press this against it for a couple of minutes."
Lennie took the handkerchief Jack placed in his hand.
Jack's teeth began to chatter as the cold wetness reached his bare skin. "So where is this subway station?"
"Near Broadway and Fifty-ninth. I thought that's where I was."
"Not quite." Jack led Lennie toward Eighth Avenue, feeling the same warmth from the contact as before. It permeated his body, helping him to tolerate the icy wetness on his back.
"You sure the books went into the sewer?" Lennie asked with a pained expression.
"I'm sure." Jack studied his beautiful eyes. "Sorry. How much did they cost you?"
"They weren't mine." He limped slightly and winced as he rubbed his knee. "I just picked them up for the Lighthouse. I work there part-time."
"Oh." Okay, smart ass, think of something. "Uhh . . . you'd better have your wife take care of that cut as soon as you get home."
"I don't have a wife." He almost slipped and yelped at the pain in his knee. "I'm divorced . . . and she didn't divorce me after I went blind."
Jack chuckled. "I wasn't going to ask that."
"Well, most people do." Lennie turned to Jack and smiled like he'd done back at Park Avenue.
"Then have your roommate take a look at it. Your knee looks pretty much banged up, too."
"No roommates."
"Alone on Christmas Eve?" Jack felt a rush of expectancy.
"Christmas means nothing to me." He didn't sound bitter, so Jack assumed that he was either agnostic, Jewish or an atheist. He took a deep breath and blurted: "Well, I don't have any plans, so why don't I take you to your place and make sure your eye and knee are taken care of?"
Lennie cocked his head, obviously wishing he could see Jack's face. A look of skepticism swept over him. "Nah, I can take care of myself."
"If I'd been a mugger, I wouldn't have��"
"Please don't be offended," he quickly said. "I don't mistrust you. I just want to be alone, okay?"
Jack was crestfallen.
"Hey, I really appreciate your helping me," he added. "As a matter of fact, if you'll give me your card, I'll call you and take you out to dinner next week. Okay?"
Jack quickly searched for a pen and a piece of paper to sign in the number of his Cell phone, but came up empty.
"Tell me the number then. I'll remember it."
Jack felt it was useless, but it recited his phone number anyway, loud and clear, hoping fiercely that Lennie would use it, soon.
They reached the subway entrance, and Jack saw that the stairway was heavily coated with snow. "Wait a minute," he cautioned. "Let me get in front of you."
With one hand on his shoulder and the other on the rail, Lennie carefully followed Jack down the stairs into the nearly deserted station.
"You have a token?" Jack asked.
Lennie grinned. "Yeah. Just get me to the turnstile."
Jack led him to the turnstile and reluctantly let go of his arm, then watched him walk toward the platform.
"Thanks," Lennie called back.
"But what if you start bleeding again?"
He shook his head and playfully gestured for Jack to go away, then he disappeared around a corner.

Jack slowly turned and urged himself to leave the station, eventually glancing up at a clerk inside the change booth. Unable to fight the powerful urge, he purchased tokens and followed the blind man to the platform. Lennie emerged from the subway at a station near the George Washington Bridge and walked into an adjacent bus terminal, where a woman led him to a waiting bus. Jack quickly bought a ticket and boarded the bus just seconds before it departed. Locating Lennie in the mid-section of the bus, Jack walked past him and sat near the rear. He had no idea where they were headed , so he was relieved when Lennie pulled the cord just after they got off the bridge in New Jersey. After the bus slid to a stop, the driver escorted Lennie off the bus. Jack slipped out after them and pretended to head for his destination.

"Hey, buddy!"
Jack turned to find the driver glaring at him. "How about helping this man get to his apartment?"
"Don't worry, driver," said Lennie, chuckling. "He was about to do just that."
The driver gave them both a puzzled look then shook his head and moved on.
"You knew all along," Jack said, relieved.
"It's your cologne."
"You've got a sensitive honker."

Lennie stomped a foot into the snow, testing the depth. "I suppose you'll have to spend the night, huh?"
"I'll leave after I get you home and doctored up," Jack assured him.
"Oh, I think I might have room for you. It's the least I can do." He held out his elbow. "I've been feeling guilty for the last half-hour for brushing you off."

The hardening snow crunched underneath their feet as Jack led Lennie down the sidewalk. He became increasingly aroused and breathless over his good fortune.

Lennie's apartment was a small, second-story walk-up. The living room consisted of a bedspread-clad couch, two mismatched upholstered chairs, a maple coffee table, and a large, television set. There were Metropolitan Opera and New York Philharmonic posters adorning the walls but very little else to decorate them. The carpeting was a faded gold and badly worn. The small kitchen was separated from the living room by a bar with two stools. It had fairly new appliances and fixtures and was well-stocked with hanging utensils, spices and cookbooks, which Jack assumed were in braille.

Lennie closed and locked the door. "Have a seat and I'll make you a drink."
"That sounds great," Jack said, his teeth clattering from the chill of his still-wet overcoat. "Do you have a robe I could wear?"
Lennie seemed to hesitate, then hung his cane on a hook near the door.
"Uhh . . . I don't think so. I usually go nude around the house." He gestured toward the radiator under a window overlooking the street below. "It's usually so damned hot in this place . . . . Why?"
"I got soaked when I went diving for your books."

Lennie reached for Jack and felt his coat. "Holy shit! You're gonna catch pneumonia!" He unbuttoned the coat. "Get out of this and take a hot shower. Hang the wet stuff on the bathroom door." With a concerned expression, he reached for the back of a bar stool to get his direction set. "I'll get you a fresh towel, then I'll make that drink. What's your poison?" He confidently walked into the hallway.

"Scotch . . . or whatever you're having." Jack followed him into the small bedroom, which consisted of an unmade double bed, a small dresser and a chest of drawers. The room was otherwise neat and clean; Jack was amazed that a blind man could keep an apartment in such good shape.

Lennie took off his coat and hung it inside a closet, pulling out the bag of medication. "I don't drink, but I have a little brandy. My girl friend . . . she drinks brandy."
Jack frowned. "Girlfriend?"
"She lives southwest of here. She's serious, but I'm not." Lennie pulled a towel out of a chest of drawers and placed it on top of the sink in the tidy bathroom. He reached inside the bag and pulled out a box containing a bottle of insulin. "I gotta put this in the refrigerator... She would really like for me to walk down the aisle, but I just don't want to get that involved." He turned and smiled. "Damned good sex, though. She went to Vermont to see her folks this Christmas, otherwise, she'd be here."

Jack took off his wet clothes and watched Lennie walk into the kitchen. "You meet her after you lost your sight?"
"Yeah," he yelled back.
"Then you don't even know what she looks like," Jack ventured in a raised voice, hanging up his clothes on the door.
"Sure I do! I'll show you later how I see a face!"

Jack shrugged and jumped into the shower. The hot water was invigorating and led to an erection.

After drying off, Jack draped the towel around his shoulders and walked into the living room. The television was on and the news anchor was telling about a brazen, bloody ambush near Falluja. Jack's cock was still erect and aching; he got a perverse thrill over "exposing" himself to a blind man.

Lennie was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He was listening to the news, a grim expression on his face. He turned to Jack. "Feel better?"
"A hundred percent better." Jack sat at the bar and watched him, elated that he was now bare-chested and dressed in running shorts. Without the hat, Jack could see that his hair was a lot more grey than dark and was cut short. He had some pounds to spare around the waist but all in all he looked muscular, with grey chest hair and thick, hairy arms.

"You going to feed me?" Jack asked, leaning over to inspect his crotch bulge, which was ample.
"Hope you're hungry." He smiled and Jack's stomach felt like he had fallen off a cliff.
"If you only knew how hungry."
Lennie's brow furrowed slightly, then he shrugged. "You like Beef Stroganoff?"
"Hey, fancy."
"You kidding? It's only sauteed onion, ground beef and sour cream over noodles."
"Sounds great," Jack said, spotting his drink and picking it up. "I hate to drink in front of you."

He shrugged again. "Doesn't bother me. I was a heavy drinker before I lost my sight to diabetes. After I was diagnosed, I ignored what the doctor said and kept on drinking." He sighed. "So I finally paid the price and wised up."
"That's too bad," Jack mumbled.
"I lost my wife and two kids to the alcohol, too." His eyes misted over. "I guess that was the biggest loss."
"Jesus," Jack reacted. "Do they know you're blind?"
"I lost track of them over ten years ago. Last I heard, she'd moved to California to live with her mother. She got the house, car, custody and everything." He sighed deeply and busied himself with chopping onions and browning the meat.
Jack inspected his injured eyebrow. "I'll take care of your eye and knee when you reach a stopping point."
"After we eat." He smiled again, probably pushing painful memories back into the recesses of his mind. "I'll take a shower and then you can operate."

Blood surged into Jack's cock and a lump formed in his throat. "You got it." He turned and noticed that the drapes were open.

"Oh, shit!" Jack quickly crouched and crawled to the drapes to close them. Lennie chuckled. "What's the matter? The drapes? What, are you nude?"
"Yeah. Hope your neighbors didn't see me."
"Fuck 'em," he assured. "I forget they're open sometimes. When I first moved here, there was practically nothing across the street, and you could see the whole bridge." He seemed to dwell on memories of better times. "You can only see half of it now, but it's still impressive, isn't it?" Jack peeked out through the drapes and shuddered at the ghostly apparition enshrouded in heavily falling snow.

"Describe it to me," Lennie urged.
"Looks eerie now, like a huge insect crawling through fog," Jack offered.
"I think I miss that the most. All the many moods of old George Washington." His expression turned melancholy. "It looked different every time I looked out the window."
Jack returned to the bar stool and watched him finish browning and setting aside the ground beef, replacing it in the skillet with the onions. Deftly, he threw a handful of noodles into a pot of boiling water.

"Why did you follow me home?" Lennie asked at length, catching Jack off guard.
Jack sipped his drink, studying Lennie, wondering why he was playing games. "It's not obvious?"
"Oh, it's obvious all right." He rolled up those baby blues and Jack's heart thumped.
"Is it?" Jack toyed, joining the game.
"It's obvious that it's either pity or compassion. A little of both, maybe."
Jack was confused. "Pardon?"
"What do you get out of it, a pass to heaven, good karma? Hell, I don't even know your name. What's your name?"
"Jack. Jack McCoy � Get out of it?" Jack suddenly realized that he had terribly misjudged Lennie. "I guess I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lennie mixed the meat, onions and sour cream. "You know, sometimes traumatic changes in a man's life can really change the way he thinks. My whole concept of life changed. It had to. I never thought of things like kindness or concern for my fellow man. Now, I'm very conscious of things like that. Except for you, no one has ever gone out of their way like you have." He chuckled, almost tearfully. "I'm really moved by your compassion, man, but I just can't tolerate pity. Is that what you felt when you saw me fall off the curb?"

Jack was flabbergasted and felt his cock shrivel.
"Some people are hooked on pity," Lennie pointed out.
Jack's vocal cords seemed frozen.
"Hello?"
"Uhh . . ."
"Jack?" Lennie appeared concerned and walked around to the bar stool, feeling Jack's face with his hands. "You okay?"
His touch was magical; his chemistry was capable of driving Jack into a frenzy. Part of him wanted to be totally honest, but the other part wanted to hold back and see if he could seduce him.
"I, uhh . . ."

"This is how I see." His hands gently and innocently discovered Jack's face, shoulders and chest. "Hey, You've got what they called as Aristocratic face... Feels good looking... In a rough kind of way... Guessed you younger from your voice... How old are you, around 50?"

"Yeah," Jack choked, blushing, breathless. "Wrong side of 50"
"Still younger than me, lad. I'll be 61 next year. Some days I feel like 80..."

Jack swallowed hard, struggling not to kiss him. He closed his eyes and begged himself not to fuck up. It was imperative that he make a lasting impression. With that in mind, he decided to be honest. "You were way off base."

Lennie blinked and slowly lowered his arms.
"I don't pity you � and I'm not a saint."
"Then � why?"
"I've never ever been so turned on by a man in my life," Jack said, his voice dry and almost cracking with dread.

Lennie considered this, finally making his way back to the stove. "Oh Boy, I must be slipping. But you just don't sound gay. Fuck, I never thought��"
"I'm sorry," Jack said sincerely. "I didn't mean to lead you on. Had you been able to really see me, there'd've been no question in your mind." The stunned look on Lennie's face made Jack wish that he'd held back.
"What would I've seen?"
"Cow eyes, from the moment I first laid them on you."
Suddenly, Lennie burst out laughing.
"Cow eyes?"
"What's so funny?" His laugh was incongruous; Jack felt frustrated and irritated.
"Here I am, old, blind threadbare. . . and you've got the hots for me?" He continued laughing heartily.
"Maybe I'd better leave," Jack suggested coolly.
"God, don't leave! It's just getting good!" Lennie reached for the bottle of Scotch, groping for Jack's glass, pouring another splash. "Don't get pissed, okay? Hell, let me catch my breath, will you?" He poured the food into a casserole dish and placed it inside the oven, turning the dial down low.

"It's not just sex," Jack pointed out.
Lennie poured himself a glass of milk and placed it on the bar. "Ah, a combination of eros and pathos, right?" He felt his way around the corner and sat next to Jack. "Don't mind me. Go on."
Jack felt encouraged by his mildly bizarre reaction. "I don't know what happened to me. It's never happened before. I never . . . followed anyone like that before."

Lennie smiled and seemed eager to hear more.

"When I first touched your arm, it was like a bolt of lightning hit me."
Lennie reared back dramatically, then smiled. "Sorry."
"I'm obsessed with you . . . your eyes, smile, voice, smell . . . ." Jack shuddered. "Your overall chemistry . . . ." His expression made Jack chuckle. "I assume you've never been propositioned by a man before."

Lennie guffawed. "You kidding? I was a marine captain with twenty inch arms and a fat dick. I got propositioned like you wouldn't believe." Instantly, Jack's cock got hard again.
"Anyone succeed?"
"That's a loaded question," he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously, his grin answering the question. "But you didn't come here just to give me a blow job, did you?"

"No," Jack said simply, honestly. Of course, he wanted to be invited back. Lennie wasn't the type of man you just serviced and walked away from. This was the kind of man you never forget. The taste of him would haunt you, make you addicted. Somehow, Jack knew that.

Lennie took a sip from his glass and seemed to hesitate. "When I was in the marines, I had this sexual problem with the effects of alcohol. Sort of Satyriasis, if you want to call it that way.. To answer your question, yeah, I got my dick sucked by a few guys, but I never looked for it. And, though I was never a religious person, I felt bad about it. It just didn't seem right. I guess it's some macho thing."

Jack felt compelled to change the subject. "What's it like to be blind?"
He shook his head in amazement.
"Dumb question," Jack groaned.
"On the contrary." Lennie leaned back against the bar, absently exposing his bulge, inflaming Jack's senses. "It's like being tied up and blindfolded at first. Tied up because of this fear you have of falling and hurting yourself. You're frozen with fear. And just when you can make it around your apartment, you know you have to tackle the street." He seemed to shudder. "The roughest day of my life was when I went to the Lighthouse for the first time by myself. I sat for two days here, picturing where the bus stop was, what the bus terminal looked like inside. It had been over two years since I'd taken public transportation in New York." He smiled proudly. "Then I went out early one morning and just did it. And I did it again the next morning and the next." He chuckled. "Man, was I bruised and battered after the first week." He abruptly turned to me. "It hasn't been that long, you know. A little over a year, really."

"No kidding," Jack said, impressed. "And you learned braille and everything."
"I got my first dog about a month ago, but it got sick and they took it back."
"I overheard that in the drug store."
"Oh, yeah." He patted Jack's shoulder. "Yeah, you were there, weren't you? So you know that I'm getting a new dog next week."
Jack looked into the kitchen and saw a dog dish in the corner. "What were you like before you went blind?"
"You wouldn't have liked me. A lot of people didn't."
Jack couldn't picture it.
"I was a jock, too, back in high school and in the marines. Always playing ball with the guys. I worked hard, made pretty good money in insurance, burned the candle at both ends. I was a Don Juan, arrogant as hell. I think I fucked every secretary in my company. Before that, I was a marine In Nam. I was wounded twice over the course of the war. Boxed, too. I was a welterweight. Came close to taking national until this fucking gorilla from Detroit broke my jaw."

They both laughed.
"After the war, I came back and got my degree at Princeton. Where did you go to school?"

"Chicago. Tried Law School but didn't work, so I turned to Business. I'm a manager and I'm in NY to organize a merger between two companies."

Lennie hesitated. "So when did you turn gay?"
Memories came rushing back into Jack's head. It never occurred to him to sift through those first memories of his homosexual life. "This fellow jock and I. He was fifteen and I was sixteen. We were driving around one summer night. We were on this double date and both girls were on the rag. We got so frustrated that we drove out into the country and had at it. I'd played around before, but this was the first time I went all the way."

Lennie seemed to squirm slightly, so Jack opted for a diversion. "So how long were you married?"

A sadness crept over Lennie's face. "About fifteen years. I got married at thirty. We had two kids . . . two boys."
"I'm sorry. Wrong subject," Jack said, ready to change the subject again.
"No, that's okay." Lennie groaned and sighed. "I was drinking pretty heavily then. One day I came home and she'd moved out, filed for divorce. Of course, I was fucking everyone and she found out."

Jack didn't know what to say to comfort him.
"I have to give myself a shot and eat something." Lennie got off the stool and walked back to the kitchen.
"Wait a minute," Jack said, suddenly wondering how a blind man could extract insulin from a bottle. "How . . . ?"
He grinned smugly and opened the refrigerator. "Everyone asks me that."

Jack looked inside and saw two drinking glasses filled with capped syringes. "My girlfriend fills them for me and puts them in the refrigerator. The textured glass has the morning shots and the slick glass has the night shots." Jack suddenly felt an intense jealousy of Lennie's girlfriend.

Lennie took out a syringe from the slick glass and placed it on the counter. "Then I get the only alcohol they'll let me have." He reached into a cabinet above and pulled down a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a bag of cotton balls.
Jack watched as Lennie moistened a ball and took the cap off the syringe. He pinched a layer of fat on his abdomen and wiped it with the ball, finally injecting the spot.

It was easy to fantasize learning to give him shots, to take care of him. It was a dangerous fantasy, but one that Jack couldn't resist. Lennie was acutely lovable.

They ate the Stroganoff and a salad at the bar, then Lennie went into the bathroom to shower. Jack poured himself a brandy and sat on the couch, wishing that he had enough guts to sneak into the back and watch him shower. Certain that Lennie would sense his presence, Jack decided to exercise decorum and hoped that it paid off.

He parted the drapes, looked out at the street and beyond. The bridge was sparkling white, caked heavily with snow. No moving cars were in sight. The snow on the street below was now quite deep and Jack realized (hoped?) that he would be snowed in for the whole holiday with Lennie. He wanted it to be a pleasant experience for Lennie. He had no intention of pawing him and turning him off. He wanted to turn him on, to be invited back. Hell, he wanted to be his lover already!

As Jack sat watching a Christmas show on television and sipping the brandy, Lennie walked into the living room. He was nude and exhibited a flaccid but already impressive penis surrounded by an abundance of soft, grey and brown hair. Jack had to look for something else in order to fall out of the mesmerizing sight, so he turned his attention to Lennie's war wounds. He found a circular scar on his left shoulder and a larger jagged one on his right side. Jack assumed that the larger scar was from shrapnel.

As Lennie went into the kitchen and made coffee, Jack shuddered at the intimacy and promise of the moment.
"I smell brandy. You want coffee to go with that?" He lowered his head so that Jack could see his face underneath the kitchen cabinets. His smile was brilliant, his hair frizzy. He looked cute.
"Please." And then Jack could smell him, too. He'd splashed on something very exotic and masculine. Did he want to encourage his seduction? Jack wondered.

Lennie poured two mugs of coffee and brought them to the coffee table, navigating by rote the space between the nearest chair and the couch. "If you want cream or sugar, you'll have to help yourself."
"Black's fine," Jack said, giddy that Lennie was sitting down next to him. He sucked in all the air around him, hungry for Lennie's essence. Jack's cock smarted from all the surges of blood.
Lennie toasted with his coffee. "Merry Christmas."

Jack chuckled, amazed at how his disastrous holiday weekend had turned into the most memorable event of his life.
"Merry Christmas." He lifted his mug and clicked it against Lennie's. "Here's hoping that the upcoming year will . . . will bring you everything you ever wanted, Lennie Briscoe"
Lennie nodded. "And the same to you, Jack McCoy."

Jack noticed the abrasion on Lennie's knee and remembered his offer.
"If you'll direct me to your hydrogen peroxide, I'll take care of my nursing duties."
"That's okay," he said, waving his hand.
"No, you might get it infected." Jack jumped up and went into the bathroom.
"Is it in the bathroom?"
"Yeah. In the medicine cabinet. There're some Q-tips there too."

Jack found both and brought them to the coffee table, then went into the kitchen to fetch a saucer.
"Hey, I just thought of something," Lennie said, absently picking at his bruised knee. "I have some wrapped gifts that I never opened. My Girlfriend brought them my last birthday and we never got around to opening them." He chuckled lecherously. "She fucked my brains out that night." The pang of jealously was like a knife penetrating Jack's stomach.
"That good, huh?" Jack commented icily.
"Unbelievable."
Jack poured some peroxide into the saucer and dipped a Q-tip into it, then gently cradled Lennie's face with a shaking hand.
"You're hands are cold," the patient pointed out.
"Warm heart," Jack countered, dabbing at the cut over Lennie's eye. Jack looked into his eyes and felt an ever-increasing fondness for him. The effect of man on him was awesome; the mounting hunger he felt was agonizing. Being that near to Lennie and not being able to touch him was tortuous � deliciously so. Jack felt that he could actually taste his skin as he fantasized noisily sucking his nipples.

"Ouch!" Lennie protested as the wound fizzed.
"You baby," Jack chided, dipping another swab and cleaning his knee wound.
"Ouch!" he repeated, exaggerating the pain.
"Okay, you'll live," Jack assured him.

"I'll get the packages," Lennie said, bending to get up. Jack pushed him back, watching his hand become enveloped in soft, salt and pepper chest hair. "No, let it dry first." He noticed what seemed like a slight swelling in Lennie's cock and decided to be a little bolder. "I'm curious. What was your reaction to those experiences with other men?"
Lennie smiled. "Are you about to try to seduce me now?"
"No," Jack said defensively. "I'm afraid that if I seduce you, I'll end up leaving with just that. I want more."
"How do you know that?"
"That I want more?" Jack was confused again.
"No." Lennie chuckled. "That's obvious. How do you know you'd leave with just that?"
"It depends on your reaction, doesn't it? Do you know what your reaction would be?"
"No," he said flatly. "I've never had sober sex with a man."
"My wild and impetuous self wants to drain you dry, damn the consequences. Then another part of me wants to leave here with your respect, whatever it takes." Jack tried to gauge his impressions. "It's very important that I be invited back."
Lennie shrugged. "I never considered what my reaction might be. When it happened back in the marines, I felt unclean the next day . . . like I was infected."
"You were afraid you'd turn gay?"

He considered that. "Yeah, sort of." He crossed his legs atop the coffee table and crossed his arms behind his head. "Of course, that was then. Now I know that sexuality isn't as simple as it seemed then. Then, you were either queer or straight. Nothing in between. Sure, there were people who called themselves bisexual, but they were queer to me." He scratched his knee, but Jack tapped his hand away. "Someone, I don't remember who, said something that really stopped me in my tracks. It was something like, 'Too many people look at sex as either black or white, when in fact it's like the entire color spectrum.' It's like, if a straight man is red and a gay man is blue, then who is yellow? Green? Purple?"

Jack was astounded at this burst of wisdom. "Now that's eloquent."
"What I'm saying is that I have no idea where I fit in the spectrum." He seemed to squirm again and placed his feet on the floor, taking a sip of his coffee. "But then, I'm really not that interested in finding out. The question isn't pressing, you know? If you suddenly went down on me, maybe I'd be so unglued that I'd tell you to stop and then kick you out. But then, maybe I'd like it and fuck your brains out, who knows. I just can't visualize it in my head."

Jack digested what he said, finally mumbling, "It's like Russian roulette."

"Hey, let's open some presents and have a real Christmas, okay?" Lennie jumped up and made his way to a hall closet. He opened the door and knelt, rummaging through several items on the floor. The telephone rang and Jack got up to answer it for him. "Want me to get that?"

"Oh, shit no!" He sprang up and rushed to the kitchen. "It may be my girlfriend." He answered the wall phone. "Hello?"
Jack returned to the couch.

"Well, Merry Christmas to you, sweetheart."

Enraged with jealousy, Jack quietly walked back toward the kitchen. As his conversation with her became more quiet and intimate, Jack got closer, inviting the pain. Lennie absently played with his cock until it had become semi-erect. Jack quietly knelt, three feet away.
"No, why do you think that?" His cock was almost totally engorged, luring Jack closer. "No one's here, baby. I'm just sitting here thinking of you."
Lennie's cock became hard and dark red. Jack's mouth filled with saliva.
"I can't wait either, babe. Oh, shit, I'm as hard as a rock." Hating her, Jack lost all control and locked his arms around Lennie's thighs, immediately swallowing his cock. Lennie's free hand pushed at Jack, trying to dislodge him, but quickly retracted as he lightly bit down on his cock head.

"Huh? Nothing. I just lost my balance a little."

Jack released his hold on Lennie's legs and made love to his cock like he'd never done with any other man. It was like drinking from a diamond and emerald-encrusted chalice.
"Sure, I'm breathing heavily. You do that to me, sweetheart."
Massaging his balls, Jack rejoiced as his legs spread further apart, welcoming more.
"Jacking off? Why do you think that?"
Jack sucked both testicles into his mouth, then turned on the floor until his nose was in the crack of Lennie's ass.
"Oh, shit," Lennie mumbled. "Uhh . . . Oh, I dropped some food on the floor." Having never had the desire with anyone else, Jack ventured into exotic territory, sending his tongue to search for Lennie's sphincter, finally finding it shower-clean and willing to be probed.
"A piece of bread, I think." The timbre of Lennie's voice had altered. He sounded somewhat hoarse.
Jack's tongue fluttered over Lennie's sphincter, glided down around his scrotum, slavered up his shank and finally swirled around his broad head. With throat completely dilated, Jack swooped down to Lennie's pubic hair, causing his feet to dance upon the tile floor. Sliding back down to his balls, Jack took both inside his mouth and looked up at his face. He focused upon Lennie's face, then his cock, then his face as he slipped his thumb into his anus. Suddenly Lennie's face turned bright red and he grunted. A streamer of semen shot out of his cock and into Jack's hair. Another spurt came, but Jack captured it with his mouth. In the throes of ecstasy, he drank Lennie's essence and spilled his seed onto the floor at Lennie's feet.

"Nothing, babe. Just cleared my throat."
Jack sat back and marveled at the sight of Lennie's spread legs and quickly shrinking cock. A pearl of semen slipped out of his slit and soon became a two inch rivulet, which Jack captured with his tongue just as it began to fall.

And then Jack looked up at Lennie's disturbed expression and realized that he would indeed leave with only a memory and the aftertaste of Lennie's seed in his sinuses. He got up and quietly walked into the bathroom, quickly getting into his semi-dry clothes. As he returned to the living room, Lennie was sitting on the adjacent carpeting, yawning as his girlfriend talked. Acutely depressed, Jack let himself out and slowly walked down to the apartment entrance. The snow was even deeper than he had thought; he couldn't distinguish the sidewalk from the street. Knowing it was insane, but unwilling to face Lennie's adverse reaction, Jack struggled down the sidewalk through foot-deep snow. Not ten feet away, his socks were already soaked and his feet seemed like they were freezing. A window opened above and Lennie stuck his head out.

"Where in the holy hell do you think you're going?"
Jack looked around and held out his arms in desperation. "Beats the shit out of me."
"Then how about coming back and opening your goddamn present." He closed the window.
Feeling childish and stupid, Jack meekly returned to the apartment. Lennie was sitting on the couch.
"I was afraid . . . " Jack began.
"You can't read me. Nobody can read me." Lennie nodded toward the kitchen. "I almost slipped and fell on your . . . your . . . mess in there."
"I'll clean it up," Jack said, struggling to fathom him. He hung his clothes in the closet and returned to the kitchen, where he mopped up the semen with a paper towel.
"Ready?" Lennie asked, holding a package in his lap.
"Sure," Jack said, sitting next to him. He inspected the package on the coffee table in front of me. "This mine?"
"Yeah. You first." A small smile formed on his lips.
"Okay." Jack opened the gift. "A wallet." He held it up for Lennie to feel. He felt the wallet, then opened his present. "Don't tell me. Let me guess."
Jack could see that it was a three-jar package of gourmet jams, but there was no way he could know.
"Okay, what is it?"
"Looks like some pretty fancy jams."
"Good, 'cause we don't have a fucking thing for breakfast except bagels." His exquisite smile returned. "You're crazy, you know?"
Jack shook his head, amazed at himself. "Guilty. I've never acted like this before, though."
"Maybe you did the right thing." Lennie grinned at Jack, as if he knew that the statement would confound him. "It had to come out of left field. Maybe you sensed that in me."
Jack shrugged, stupefied.
"You realize, of course, that we can't be sure of it without some other tests." Lennie grinned, spreading his legs and showing Jack his new erection.

Jack felt warm, relaxed and safe. He could not decide if he was awake or sleeping, and for the moment he could not care less. He felt very good.

As he woke up a little more, he was aware of a hand rubbing gentle circles on his stomach, sending pleasant flutters through him. That was nice. He could feel something warm pressed up against his ass and snuggled against it. Gradually he came out of his pleasant haze and realized what the warm thing behind him was. And that was even nicer.
The hand on his stomach began moving slightly lower, rubbing and tickling all the way down to his groin.

"Merry Christmas, Lennie. Looking for something?" Jack asked teasingly, turning onto his back and looking at Lennie.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Jack. And yes, I was looking for my Christmas gift" Lennie chuckled in answer, closing his hand around Jack's hard cock. "Looks like Santa already delivered it."
"Yeah, but I'm afraid he's forgotten to wrap it up"
"Details, details..."
Lennie looked down at Jack's face and smiled. "I know that Mona Lisa smile of yours."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You get it when you wake up from one of your dreams... This one must have been pleasant..."
Jack grinned, blushing slightly.
Lennie laughed. "Tell me about it."
Jack reached up to kiss Lennie. "It was Christmas, and I was all alone in this city. And you were a very independent blind man. We met accidentally and I felt in love with you at the first sight. Initially you seemed very straight, but you took me home anyway and I had the feeling you were going to keep me... And I was falling so hard and so fast for you it was breathtaking..."

Lennie's smile and expression turned dreaming too and he had to swallow a couple of time before finding his voice.
"I'm flattered..." he said with conviction. "Six years together and you're still dreaming of me like that..."
"I think I'll keep dreaming of you like that whether we've been together sixteen years or sixty ... And when I wake up and you're here with me, it's better than any dream..."
"Better?"
Jack nodded and went for another kiss. "Do you have to ask?"
"Nope... But I can't help wonder how I can compete with those dreams of yours."
"How can they compete with a real, live, warm you in my arms?" Jack's smile became naughty. "Or even better, inside me.�

He pulled Lennie down on top of him, locking their lips together in a passionate kiss. Lennie eagerly responded, sliding one hand into the thick silver hair as Jack's arms wrapped around his back. Life was so good, so sweet. For the first time in their six years together, they were able to celebrate Christmas like this. Now that Lennie was retired from the NYPD, they could take all the time they wanted.

Jack rolled them over so that he was on top and began leaving a trail of kisses across Lennie's face and neck, enjoying the feel of the rough stubble. This was when it really came home to him how special their love was. He worked his way down Lennie's chest, burying his fingers in the soft gray curls as his lips sought out the sensitive nipples. He loved watching Lennie squirm beneath his touch, his cock hard and twitching. Finally he took it into his mouth, eliciting a deep groan from his lover, his partner, his life.

He sucked until he couldn't stand waiting any longer. Letting go, he crawled back up to lay beside Lennie. "Take me, Lennie. Make love to me. I want you so bad �"

Lennie didn't have to be told twice. He remembered how nervous they both had been all those years ago when they first tried this. Jack's dreams had brought them together, but neither of them knew much about gay sex. There had been some awkward moments, but something had made them both press on and figure out the mechanics. Now he couldn't imagine his life without Jack by his side and in his bed. He had been so afraid of retirement, of being alone. Now it seemed like the best thing that had ever happened to him. For once to not have to crawl out of a warm bed on the holiday morning was the best present he could wish for � as long as Jack was there with him!

Now it was Jack's turn to squirm under his touch as he gently prepared his lover. When he was good and relaxed, Lennie applied the lube to himself and moved into position, lifting Jack's long legs onto his shoulders. Their hands clasped as he pushed in, reveling in the warmth of the tight space. Slowly, they began moving together, letting the pressure gradually build. Lennie's hands feathered lightly over Jack's erection, not enough to bring him off, just enhancing the pleasure generated inside his body. Long and slow, they made love that Christmas morning, until finally they couldn't last a minute longer. When the explosion came, it was like the heat inside Jack's body rolled over them, fusing their bodies and souls together forever.

They lay side by side for a good long while, not speaking, just drinking in each other's nearness. Through the window they could see that it had started snowing outside. Lennie sighed happily. "Got my Christmas dream. Snow outside, and me inside with you. Can't think of a better way to spend the holiday �"

Jack just sighed and snuggled closer, enjoying his Christmas dream come true.

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