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Arthur sighed and set the book aside. It was on nights like these that he missed him the most. The snow was falling and the world seemed to be a little bit quieter, as if it was holding its breath, waiting for something.
He knew that this affair with Mordred wasn’t meant to go anywhere. They had met last year when he had been on his way home from the office, using the tube for the first time in years, as the roads were too icy to drive. The young bloke ran into him, causing Arthur to spill his overpriced coffee all over him; the classical scene, pretty lame if you thought about it.
Right away, Arthur offered to pay for the cleaners, it had been his coffee after all. In the end, they had gone clothes-shopping and ended up at his place. In the morning, Arthur thought this had been the most expensive one-night stand he’d ever had, but Mordred kept coming back.
His mind knew that it eventually had to come to an end, Mordred was way too young, or he was way too old; but he enjoyed the attention the young man gave him. The warmth of Mordred’ body on cold nights; his laughter and playfulness made him a better man. He couldn’t help but notice that he was falling for the longish curls, the soft skin, the mischievous glint in Mordred’s eyes.
For a while he’d even allowed himself the thought that they might have a future together, but it all came to an end when Mordred went away to university. Arthur knew that it was for the better, that Mordred needed someone his own age.
But his heart ached, not wanting to let go of the memory of soft exploring touches, the feel of his full lips against his, his scent…Arthur stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He just was an old fool thinking that a boy like that could really love him.
He went over to the window and stood there for a while, watching the snowflakes cover everything in a thick white blanket before he closed the blinds.
Arthur pondered calling someone, but who could he call on Christmas Eve? Everyone was with their family and friends. Even his sister had found someone she wanted to spend her life with. The house seemed huge all of a sudden.
The doorbell rang into the silence and Arthur cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, wondering who would disturb at this time of night.
When he opened the front door, a figure in a ragged winter jacket and huddled in scarves stood there. This couldn’t…could it?…
The man in front of him undid the scarf he’d wrapped around his head against the snow and familiar large eyes looked at him.
“It’s snowing so hard that the busses don’t run.”
Arthur just stared.
“Are you going to let me in or will we stand here like this all night?”
Stepping back to let the other man in, Arthur couldn’t believe it. His lonely mind must be playing tricks on him.
But as layers of fabric were taken off, it was clearly Mordred standing in his entrance area.
“Mordred…”
The young man turned, wrapped his arms around Arthur and kissed him softly. “Merry Christmas, Arthur.”