Page 2 of His Secret Santa
“I know.” He draped his arm around Holden and kissed his cheek. “That’s all part of my charm and why you love me.”
It was, Holden had to admit. Jamie was the best. He was thankful that his feelings for the guy went no deeper than friendship. He didn’t want to be in love with his straight best friend—for both their sakes. But even if Jamie was gay, Holden didn’t think they would be more than friends. That something just wasn’t there. And that was fine; he loved just having a “best friend”.
“Here we go,” Jamie said quietly as they neared the bouncer. “Just be cool and...” He winked at Holden. “… don’t act your age.”
“Good evening, boys.” The Santa bouncer looked them over. “May I see some ID?”
Up close, his sexiness overwhelmed the senses. In his lifetime, Holden hadn’t encountered many gay men. He didn’t have any gay friends. Jamie was often mistaken for his boyfriend by other kids in school, but he wasn’t gay. Standing so close to this gay Santa—a man who practically excreted gay pheromones through his pores—had a dizzying effect on Holden. His hands tingled with the need to touch the man, just to prove to himself the gay godlike specimen was real.
The two boys produced their IDs and handed them over. The bouncer studied the cards and then looked at the teenagers. “Eighteen, huh?” His voice resonated with stark skepticism.
He isn’t buying it. He won’t let us in.
Holden experienced a mix of relief and disappointment. Jamie stared confidently at the bouncer and nodded.
The man looked closer at Holden’s ID. “Today is your birthday?”
“Yes.” Holden swallowed. It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t his eighteenth birthday.
“Happy birthday.” The bouncer returned their ID cards and motioned them inside. “Have a good time.”
Jamie leaned close to Holden as they opened the entrance doors. “Told you it would work.”
“I don’t think he believed we were eighteen.”
“So what?” Jamie grinned. “We’re in. Thanks to you.”
“Me?”
“I think he let us in because it was your birthday. Otherwise, you’re right, he might’ve sent us packing.”
The music blasted them with physical force when they entered the club and walked through a dimly lit entryway. To the right were the restrooms and along one wall, three ATMs and a pay phone.
Emerging into the main club, the boys halted as the atmosphere temporarily shocked their systems. Multi-colored lights flashed from overhead, painting the club a rainbow hue. Bodies packed the floor, many dressed in expensive suits. Strippers flowed through the customers wearing sexy, Christmas-themed costumes, most of them with masks.
“I’ve never wanted to be gay so bad in my life,” Jamie exclaimed, eyes wide with awe.
Holden laughed softly. He leaned close to Jamie’s ear, speaking above the cacophony. “Be careful in here, or you’ll get a gay experience whether you want it or not.”
Jamie laughed out loud and nodded.
The music suddenly died, and their attention was pulled to the stage when an athletic dancer walked out wearing a Santa cap, white gloves, and a sparkling red G-string, the band trimmed in tiny silver bells than jingled with his every move. A couple more dancers emerged dressed in skimpy elf costumes and placed a chair center stage as Santa strutted around, pumping up the crowd as he jingled his ass.
“This looks promising.” Jamie smiled.
Holden just stood and stared, struggling to keep his jaw from hitting the floor, his eyes bulging in his head as they locked on Santa’s perfect, flexing ass cheeks.
Jamie took one look at his face and burst out laughing. “We better get you a drink before the fun begins, or you might not survive.”
“Huh?” Holden blinked and realized his breath was quick, unsteady—and his crotch stiff with a low throb pulsing through his shaft.
Jamie laughed again and grabbed Holden’s arm, dragging him away as Holden’s stare clung to the stage Santa.
“What can I get you, boys?” The bartender asked when they approached the bar and took a stool. He had a classic handsomeness that shocked the senses differently. He wore a plain black t-shirt and black slacks, but also sported a Santa cap in keeping with the holiday theme of the club party. Carl was stitched on the shirt in a silver, cursive font.
“Two beers,” Jamie said.
Carl the bartender hesitated. “Did Trevor check your IDs at the door?”