Boxed In: A Christmas Story - 1. Chapter 1

Special Anthology- Blizzard Theme

 

 

Chapter 1- Boxed In: A Christmas Story

 

 

Rory was supremely annoyed. Why were the damn truck crews changed around? He was supposed to have spent this day as part of a four-man team in one of the big moving vans. It would have meant a relaxed and fun day peppered with jokes and wisecracks amongst an easygoing quartet. A perfect way to preface their three-day Christmas holiday. Instead, he was being crammed into the two-man vehicle with Clint, driving all over the place making mostly appliance deliveries. Fuck!

To say the big brute lacked charm would be a monumental understatement. If you could get the man to talk at all, you’d get hit with surly mutterings. And no eye contact. Rory fucking hated that. Everyone deserved to be acknowledged. It was only common decency. Homophobic asshole.

He was sorely tempted to raise the issue with Benoit, and even started heading toward the back office, but decided the man didn’t need any more hassles than he already had to deal with. And it was Christmas. He was a tough but kind man, and came across to Rory as fatherly whenever they spoke. Biting the bullet clenched firmly between his teeth, he spun around and headed towards the lunch room. Coffee, even the terrible crap available to all the employees, was what he needed.

It didn’t surprise him Clint was already in the otherwise empty space, sitting alone at the table closest to the ancient Bunn-O-Matic brewing machine. Rory winced as pale eyes barely flickered in his direction. God forbid the man should actually look at him. Sighing, he took the high road once again. “Good morning, Clint. We’re stuck with each other today.”

“Uh huh.”

Rory didn’t hide his head shake. He snorted for equal measure. “Don’t worry, I’m not happy about it either.” There was no response from behind him as he poured the black tar into a Styrofoam cup, hating sugar, but adding a pack of it anyway. It served him right for forgetting his own special blend on the counter at home. Taking a sip, he grimaced at the wall before adding the half-and-half as well. Another sip proved to be not much better, but he supposed he could drink it.

“I’ll meet you in the truck. You’ve got the route, right?” The driver always procured the route from Benoit, and Clint always drove. Rory didn’t really mind, though. He hated driving, and Clint was considered the best, with the big trucks anyway; which was why it stymied him that the douche was on the smaller van today. No response had him turning around to look down at the man. It wasn’t very far because the jerk was huge. “Did you hear me?”

“Yep.”

“Then fucking answer me. Christ, you’re a dick.” Oh, hell. Great way to start the day, but as hard as he’d tried, the giant jackass rubbed him the wrong way, and had from the beginning. He stormed out of the room and almost ran over the rotund figure of Benoit. Sidestepping him before uttering a ‘sorry,’ he proceeded to the loading ramp and jumped off, heading toward his temporary prison. He was pissed, and as much as it was directed at Clint, it was also aimed at himself. He shouldn’t let the guy get to him. It wasn’t often they had to work together, and this was the first where it was only the two of them; Rory had to learn to suck it up. Merry fucking Christmas.

After checking to make sure the box of today’s ride had straps and furniture blankets, he pulled the door down and secured the latch. Turning the back corner, he again almost collided with his boss. “Benoit? Hey.”

“Morning, Rory. Anything you want to talk about?”

“Ah, no. Why?”

“Look, young fella, I heard you in the lunchroom, so no pretending. Is there going to be a problem with today’s assignment?”

“No, of course not.” He fidgeted under the appraising grey eyes. “Okay. I lost my cool, and I shouldn’t have. Clint gets under my skin, but he’s a good worker, and that’s all that matters, right?”

Benoit looked behind him as one of the larger trucks departed, and when he turned back, his expression was compassionate. “No, it’s not all that matters. I don’t like the way you two clash, and frankly it’s frustrating. Before you say anything, I’m not blaming you. You guys are my best workers, and I manage for the most part to keep you on separate crews. But, we’re two men down, and I want Clint driving this truck today. And, I need someone strong enough to match him. There was no other way around it. The weather is supposed to turn to shit, and your last call is in cottage country. You know he’s the best choice for those kind of roads. There’s a monster double-door refrigerator scheduled for today, and you’re the only pair I’ve got who can deliver and maneuver it wherever it needs to go.”

“I understand. Sorry.” And he was. Clint wasn’t the first straight dude who wanted nothing to do with a gay guy, and he wouldn’t be the last. Rory needed a tougher skin than he was showing. Why the man got to him so easily, he couldn’t comprehend. It had been that way from the beginning.

“I appreciate that. But, don’t take all the blame on yourself. Could you maybe see if you can get through to him, though? It would make my job a hell of a lot easier. Turnover in this business is high enough; I don’t want to end up losing either one of you.” Benoit gave him a little smile.

“Not much I can do when someone doesn’t like being around me. I can’t become straight, for him or anyone else.”

“No, you can’t. I don’t know why he avoids you, but I don’t believe it’s for the reasons you think. Clint’s always been a great guy, but he hasn’t seemed even remotely happy lately, and it worries me. If you are right, though, I’ll kick his ass out the door. This company will never stand for that sort of attitude.”

Rory was surprised to the point of shock. He had to rethink this, because the idea of Clint losing his job upset him. Weird. “No need for that. I can get along with anyone, and we don’t need to be friends to do our work. Speak of the devil.” Clint was headed towards them, zipping up his ugly-as-fuck bright red overalls as he strode toward the driver’s side. They all had to wear the godawful things.

“I can’t ask for more than that.” Benoit stroked his grey-streaked beard. “But, maybe if you could get him to talk….”

“Everything all right, boss?” Clint looked wary as he arrived at the front of the truck.

“Yes, youngster. Just talking to one of my two best workers while waiting for the other one to get here. Three days off after this, boys. Be careful, and I’ll see you tonight. I just might have a bonus waiting for you when you get back.” Glancing from one to the other, he grinned. “I’m looking forward to Christmas. Best time of the year. Have a good day, and don’t break anything.”

Ignoring Clint, Rory kept his eyes on his boss for a few seconds, smiling when the cheery Benoit started singing ‘Jingle Bells’ as he returned to the warmth of the building. “I already did the check,” he called out as his partner for the day disappeared down his side of the truck. He reappeared, and jumped up into the driver’s seat.

Rory strapped himself in just before they began to move. The empty truck creaked and groaned, and the aggravation of it in the otherwise quiet cab caused Rory to turn on the radio. A long attitude-filled sigh came from beside him. He was tempted to glance over at the man who issued it, but he didn’t. Searching for a country station, he came across a Sam Hunt song, telling him he’d succeeded. Sitting back, his attention was drawn to fingers tapping on the steering wheel. They obviously weren’t tapping in time with the music. Another blown-out breath further verified Clint was annoyed. What the fuck did Rory care?

He was staring out the window when Clint, shock of all shocks, spoke. “I need my job.”

“What?”

“Need my job. I suppose you complained to Bennie about me.” It was a flat statement, but Rory heard anger behind it.

“You do, do you? You supposed wrong.” Silence followed, and Rory had no intention of breaking it. He’d been contemplating trying to do as Benoit asked, but fuck that. Clint was looking for confrontation, and he wasn’t going to bite.

“He never comes out into the yard unless there’s a problem.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Now who was being confrontational, Rory? You should ignore the prick.

“I… that wasn’t my intent. The last thing I need is to be worrying about my job right now.”

“So, what? You think I’m trying to get you fired?” He glared at the big man until his blue-eyed gaze turned to him. “I would never do that, no matter how much of an unfriendly jerk you are. He heard me snap at you in the lunchroom and asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about.” He waited for Clint to look back at him again, but there was no acknowledgment, as per usual. The guy definitely had a problem with eye contact.

Rory sighed his own annoyance, and continued. “I told him no. And, I said you were a good worker, and we didn’t need to be friends to do our jobs. He said it would make his life easier, and that’s pretty much it. Satisfied?” He wasn’t going to tell Clint his homophobia came up, and it could cost him his job, because he wouldn’t allow it to happen. Rory would quit first before he let something like that occur. Not because he cared about the ass. He just didn’t want the guilt; the man had been with the company for years longer than him.

“Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“I’ve been at this job for almost four months, and it appears you always have a lot on your mind. I don’t see where it would hurt you to be civil, but I’m not going to spend any time trying to get you to like me. I don’t give a shit about your issues.”

The silence returned, and Rory paid attention to where they were going. Judging by the route, they were headed for the biggest furniture warehouse in town. Staring in front of him, he didn’t like the moisture that was beginning to mist the big window. At the present temperature, freezing rain was becoming a certainty.

Clint’s voice startled him. “It’s not like I’m your favorite person.”

Was this more confrontation, or conversation? Rory figured he knew. “No, you sure as hell aren’t. But I wasn’t the one avoiding me like I was a leper. I give what I get, and I make no apologies for who I am.”

“No one says you should.”

Rory turned his head towards the dark-haired man, his eyes focusing on the shadow of his unshaven beard. He waited, but Clint kept his eyes on the road. The man had a great profile; he had to give him that. “Not in so many words, no. But I got the message long ago.”

“I never sent out any message. Sometimes I close up. Here we are. Can you grab my gloves from behind your seat?”

Apparently, their conversation was over. Rory didn’t have time to respond, and wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

 

Their only interaction as they loaded up the six deliveries was a concise discussion of the order in which they packed them. Rory checked the route on the clip board, and suggested they switch two around because it made more sense, and still fit into the time frame given the customers. Clint’s part of the discussion was to peruse the list and mutter, “Works better.”

Benoit had been right about the fridge. It was a monster and went on first, along with a four-burner gas stove that was much lighter. The dishwasher and a fancy oak sideboard were a breeze in comparison. Instructions dictated they were to be put in a garage of what Rory assumed was one of the pricey cottages on the big lake to the east. No one would be present, and there were directions to where the key was hidden. That was good news because it meant they wouldn’t have to tackle steps and corners and such. Hopefully, they’d be able to dolly the items straight off the hydraulic lift and into this garage. As movers, though, you never knew what you were going to encounter.

By the time they’d pulled the door shut and repositioned the small hydraulic ramp beneath the box, heavy rain was mixed with snow, and at times it was stinging. Rory was thankful he didn’t have to drive in this stuff, but Clint didn’t seem to mind at all. They were all over the place, in town and out, yet they kept to the schedule despite the ugly weather.

They stopped at a drive-thru for lunch at one o’clock, with three deliveries down and three to go. Rory had planned to eat a couple of power bars, but instead went along with Clint’s idea. He couldn’t wait for the day to end. He didn’t like this weather at all. Ice was beginning to coat everything, and they had to keep the defrost going full blast. Even Clint has done some cursing after he slipped a few times on icy steps. Top-of-the-line boots were no better than sneakers in these conditions.

No doubt about it; the man was strong as an ox. Rory was no slouch either, but Clint’s impressive strength had kept them from losing control of items a few times. They weren’t talking much, but they seemed to be reading each other well, and Rory started to relax as he got a little weary. Like the bigger man, he put everything he had into getting the job done.

On the second last delivery, Rory lost his balance on the ice coated concrete steps as they were leaving. Powerful arms engulfed him as his feet slid out from under him, saving his head from smacking down. It would have been messy, but Clint ended up sitting underneath him, with Rory’s head resting against a muscled chest. “Fuck!”

“Are you okay?” Genuine concern?

“Yeah, thanks to you. They need railings here. Are you?”

“I landed on my big ass, so I’m good. Better that than your head. Did you hurt your back?”

“No. I think your legs broke my fall.” At that moment the very loud snap of a tree branch in the customer’s back yard drew their attention. “Holy shit,” Rory said as a huge branch hit the ground. “This is getting bad.” He was in the process of getting up, but it was hard because of the lack of something to hold onto. He managed, and held out his hand for Clint, who shook his head. Oh yeah. Mustn’t touch the fag.

“I don’t want to pull you back down.” It sounded sincere enough.

He stood watching as the man turned over and carefully stood. He realized his eyes were focused on a spectacular ass encased in tightened overalls, and quickly looked away. Maybe he was being unfair. The man had saved him from a concussion at the least. “Do you think we should call it a day, and forget about heading out to the lake road?” Light blue eyes met his and held. A breakthrough? Ladies and gentlemen, we have eye contact.

“The conditions are bad, and it’s only going to get worse, but those last four pieces are someone’s gifts, and we’re their last chance to get them before Christmas. It’s probably a husband surprising his wife.”

“Or maybe a husband surprising his husband.”

Clint continued to stare at Rory. “Or that. Like I said, it’s only going to get worse, so you decide.” This was the longest Clint had ever looked at him, and his expression was an open one. Rory stared back, thinking how handsome the guy was when he wasn’t scowling.

“I’m game if you are. You’re the one driving.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas either.”

 

They drove by a gas station, and Rory cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t we fill up before we head out of town?”

“It’s not an Esso. Bennie wants us to use the Esso card for gas.”

“I know, but, we’re getting low… and it’s fucking storming”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s an Esso over on Landview. We can fill up there.”

“It’s out of the way.”

“Not by much. Call it an executive decision.”

If Clint had smiled when he said it, Rory would been okay with his flip comment. But there was no smile, and it rang as arrogant to his ears. “Suit yourself.” They still had a half hour drive in good weather… God knows how long it would take them in this ice storm turn blizzard. Why Clint wanted to prolong it any more than they had to, he sure as hell didn’t understand; nor did he like it. The tension was back.

And it rose further when they pulled into their destination to see it was closed ‘due to weather.’ Rory couldn't hold back a smug smirk when Clint uttered, “Fuck.”

“Executive decision, eh? Now what? Looks like businesses are shutting down like crazy.”

“Guess we return to that Pioneer station.”

Rory said nothing but he stewed the whole way back. Clint didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. “Fuck,” he said as they pulled in. All the lights were now out on this place too. Every single one of them.

“Damn. Must be a power outage,” Clint said, leaning forward to peer through the swirling snow.

“Once again, now what?” Rory knew he hadn’t kept the sarcastic edge out of his voice.

Clint looked just as frustrated. “I’m pretty sure we have enough gas to get there, and back to town. There is another gas station northeast of here on the lake road, although it might not be open. What do you want to do?”

“Are you sure we have enough gas to get there and back?”

“Yeah, and there’s a good ten gas stations on our way back to the yard, so at least a few should stay open.”

“Let’s do it then, while there’s still some daylight left.”

 

Rory was fast regretting their decision. It didn’t matter how good a driver Clint was; he was getting worried. Frightened was probably more accurate. It appeared the worst of the ice storm was over after coating everything with a thick layer, but now the snow was falling heavily, and blowing with a vengeance. He was leaning forward with his hands on the dash, trying to see through the whiteouts that were increasing with every mile. The going was slow, and they were soon in darkness.

“That gas station should be right up ahead. In the next mile or so.” Clint sounded calm, but his body language said otherwise.

“I can’t see anything.”

“There should be a sign about a half mile before the driveway.” They were crawling along now. Any faster would be foolhardy. “It’s a big square one on posts.” There was stress in his voice, and Rory felt some sympathy for the dark-haired man.

“I think I saw it. It was covered in snow… just before you started talking.”

They crept along until Rory saw a reflector on a pole. “I just saw….”

“Yeah. Me too. Here we go.” He started to turn and their headlights swung across gas pumps. The place was obviously closed, with not a single light glowing, but at this point, Rory was filled with relief they were off the treacherous road. He jumped when the truck tilted slightly and half-spun, accompanied by the sound of wheels spinning.

“Jesus! What did you hit?”

“Ah crap. The rear wheel. It caught the ditch and… sorry. I think three wheels are still on pavement.” Clint slumped in his seat as if all the air had gone out of him.

“Hey, it’s okay, man. You got us here. That’s more than I could have done. Are we stuck?”

“Ah, yeah. We could probably drive out if it wasn’t so icy under all the snow. There’s no traction at all. We should check it out.”

Rory followed him from the truck, stepping out into almost knee-deep wet snow. There was way more than he thought, and the entire body of the box had snow stuck to it. He made his way around the back to the driver’s side, and saw that while the tire wasn’t buried all that deep, there was no way they were moving without a tow truck. “Not as bad as it could have been. I’ll call for a tow.” He reached into his overalls for his phone and clicked it on. No Network Available. Nothing else was on the screen, not even the time. “Hey, Clint, can you try your phone? I’m getting a message I’ve never seen before.”

The man was walking towards the gas pumps when he stopped. He was just a dark shadow until the phone screen lit him up. “No network available? Was that the message?”

“Yes.”

“Shit. Remember that ice storm that went through Quebec a long time ago, and crumpled all those power-line towers? Maybe that’s what’s happened. Could be some cell towers are down. I’ve never gotten this message before either.” His face disappeared when the phone light turned off, and Rory found himself moving closer.

“We’re pretty much screwed, aren’t we? There’s no phone signal, zero traffic, it’s getting colder by the minute, and from the looks of it, power outages might be all over the place. We don’t have much gas left either. What are we going to do?” They were standing a few feet apart in the middle of a storm, and Rory suddenly felt like they were all alone in the world.

“I don’t know about screwed, but it’s not looking good. At least we don’t have to worry about getting rammed from behind or hit head on. There’s no way in hell I wanted to be driving anymore in this anyway. Why don’t we check out the store? Maybe we can hole-up inside for the night.”

“You mean break in?”

“Not in the conventional sense. It’s a matter of surviving the night, because our only other option is the truck. I’ll take full responsibility. Let’s see if there’s a way in.”

It turned out the complete darkness of the station might not be from a power outage. That became a clear possibility when they saw the ‘closed for the season’ sign attached to a wrought iron grill padlocked in place over the entire front door. It was the same situation for all the windows around the small concrete-block building. Even the outside facing washrooms were covered in the same grills. Clint stubbornly refused to give up, pulling and prying with a crowbar from the truck for a good half hour before conceding defeat. There was no way, without some serious power tools, they were getting inside the little store.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rory was freezing. The truck was barely visible, and it was the only option left. “Clint? I’m soaked. I have to warm up. Are the keys in the truck? I need heat, and I need it now.”

“So do I. The keys are in there, but it’s going to use a lot of gas to warm the engine up enough to get that old heater to the point it will do much good. Even then, it won’t last long. We used up most of our fuel getting this far.”

“So what? We freeze to death, and save our gas,” a frigid Rory snapped.

“We have to look at the big picture, Rory.”

“You mean the big picture where we try to get into an impenetrable building and only succeeding in freezing our asses off? Would it be that big picture?”

“You’re cold and pissed. I get it.”

“Don’t patronize me. What’s your big picture?” He glared at Clint, and slowly realized he was acting childish. At that moment he was glad the dark hid his expression.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to placate you. You have a right to be upset. This was all my fault. I should have filled up when I had the chance.”

“Clint, I’m not… look, I can’t feel my feet, and I’m freaking out, but this isn’t your fault. We didn’t know it would get this bad. We tried to do the right thing, and it turned out to be the wrong thing. So how do we stay alive till morning, because I doubt anyone will find us in this shit?”

“Ah. Our only option would be the furniture blankets in the box. We’ll have to wait it out in there, and we need to get rid of our wet clothes because they will finish us off quicker than anything else.”

“So we get naked and wrap ourselves in four measly shipping blankets?”

“It’s all we got. Trust me. We’ll figure this out.”

“What are you, a boy scout?”

“Yup. Made it to Venturer before I packed it in.” He’d stepped closer, and Rory made out a grin. That was something new. “Come on. We’re going to need to rub each other's feet so we don’t get frostbite.”

“Rub each other’s feet? Are you serious?”

“Are your feet going numb? Can you move your toes?”

“Yeah, I can move them. But they feel damn cold… maybe a little numb.”

“You have what’s called frostnip, and it’s the first stage of frostbite. I know because I have it, so you will too. Rubbing our feet and warming them up will keep us from getting worse. Believe me, it’s the last thing we want. You can rub your own feet if you don’t want me touching you. Come on.” Clint started walking, and Rory followed, confused. How had the homophobe turned things around on him? He was too damn cold to contemplate such a ridiculous comment.

It took a few minutes to get the back door unfrozen. First they had to scrape of inches of plastered snow, and then smack off the coating of ice that had occurred since their previous delivery. Rory’s gloves were now useless as protection, having been soaked since trying to enter the closed up store.

When Clint slammed the door shut, the darkness became impenetrable, and awkward. Rory heard the sound of the big man’s front and leg zippers sliding, followed by the sound of his overalls dropping to the floor. “Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you taking everything off?”

“There’s no point in removing only half of our clothes, Rory. If it’s wet, we have to remove it. Otherwise it’ll keep our core temperature from coming up. If it drops to ninety-five, we become hypothermic. We have two blankets each. We should have grabbed some more.”

“Sorry, that was my fault. I saw the stack but didn’t count them. I’m always working on one of the bigger trucks. Owww!”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I banged my elbow. I can’t see a fucking thing.”

“Use your phone light. And don’t worry about the blankets. All the trucks are short of them. I’ve complained about that to Bennie for months.” His voice was just as shaky as Rory’s.

Rory began removing his clothes, wondering who the hell this suddenly talkative guy was. Maybe today had been what was needed for Clint to get over his issues. His overalls unzipped relatively easily down each leg and he shrugged out of them, but he struggled to unlace his boots with fingers that wouldn’t cooperate. The knots were impossible. “Clint? I can’t get my laces undone.”

“Turn on your phone light. Mine’s about dead.”

Rory searched around for his discarded overalls, and retrieved his forgotten phone. It was wet, but it turned on with a press of the button. A very naked Clint was standing facing him, squinting at the bright light.

“Can you turn that away from my face?”

“Oh, sorry.” As cold as he was, Rory felt an instant attraction to what was displayed before him. Fuck, the man was perfect. It had been too damn long.

“Point it at your boots, so I can see. Are your fingers working?”

“Not very good.”

“Thought so. Keep them moving, and put them under your arms for a bit.” He knelt in front of Rory, and began to work on the knots. Rory couldn’t tear his eyes away from the flexing muscles of the man’s back and shoulders. He alternated burying his hands under his arms while he kept the light on, feeling a little embarrassed at being so useless.

“There’s one knot untied.” It wasn’t long before Clint said, “There you go. Lift your foot, and I’ll pull your boot off. Okay, now the other one. Your jeans are soaked. Get the rest of your clothes off before you sit on the blanket.”

Rory swallowed, the cold spurring him on to get rid of the rest of his wet clothing. He didn’t look at Clint until he was done. When he did, the man was holding one of the blankets open for him. He had to click his phone on again when Clint disappeared in darkness once more.

Rory took the blanket from him and wrapped it around his shivering shoulders, noting how he seemed more concerned for Rory than himself. “Thank you. Aren’t you freezing?”

“Fucking right I am.” Another grin, and Rory saw his chin trembling. “How are your feet?”

“This floor is like ice.” His voice was shaking so bad he almost couldn’t talk.

“Here. Sit down on this one and wrap it around your legs. Do you want to rub your own feet to get the blood circulating or do you want me to?”

“It’s better if we do each other, right?”

“Definitely. It’s how I was taught in Scouts. It’ll warm our hands and feet both. Once we get settled, make sure you keep your blanket covering your head. That’s where most of our body heat escapes.”

“I… I knew that.”

“Good. Don’t worry, Rory. We’ll get through this.” The wind wailed eerily outside their brutally cold cave. Clint spread his blanket to the side and a little down from Rory’s. “I’m going to lay with my feet at your chest, and… put your light back on… there we go. Okay, we turn on our sides, and begin massaging. Can you reach mine comfortably?”

“Ye… yes.”

Clint’s hands worked like magic, bringing life back into his body. They were in darkness again, and Rory copied everything the other man did. He was still cold as hell, but it was bearable for the time being… just. It was apparent their bodies got closer and closer as each minute went by, drawn to the other’s heat, and Rory did his best to ignore what pressed against him, knowing Clint was doing the same. This was about survival. “Better?” Clint’s voice in the pitch black startled him. He was suddenly feeling very sleepy.

“Ah, yeah. I need a nap, though. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands working.”

“Rory. You can’t go to sleep. If you do you could freeze to death.”

Rory fought the lethargic feeling. “There’s no way I can stay awake all night.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking, and I believe I have a way to get warm and stay warm.”

“You mean share warmth?”

“Well, yeah. You know about that?”

“I read, so yeah.” He hadn’t meant for it to be sarcastic, but it probably came across as such.

“Right. But I don’t think that’s going to be enough. It’s getting colder in here… it’s too big a space to hold any heat.”

“So what else can we do?”

“Take the box off the refrigerator and get in it.”

“Oh, fuck… yeah. That would work, but can we fit?”

“The box is easily seven feet tall, and it’s wide enough if you don’t mind being close?”

“I don’t mind, but won’t that be weird for you?”

“No.” That was it. One word. Rory wished he could see the man’s face at that moment.

“Okay. Let’s do this. My body is feeling really heavy. That’s not good, is it?”

“No. Your body heat is moving inward to protect your heart, and that makes your limbs feel like lead. Okay, so the box should lift up and off the fridge easily, but unless we split it open, one of us will have to tilt that monster while the other finishes pulling it off.”

“Will there be enough room to do that?”

“Yeah, because the fridge is facing the door. We’ll lift the box up as high as the roof will allow; then I’ll lean the fridge forward, and you slide the box off the rest of the way. Then we can slice the Styrofoam ells that protect the corners, and lay them on the bottom of the box so we’re up off the floor.”

“Good thinking. I can’t wait to be warm again,” he said with chattering teeth.

“Same here. Turn on your phone light, and I’ll get my box cutter out of my overalls so I can cut the shipping straps off.”

Rory felt around for his phone, and locating it, turned it on in time to see a naked Clint standing over him till his eyes adjusted. It was a provocative view, and surprisingly, his frozen cock responded with a jerk. He had to look away.

“Got it.” The snap, snap, snaps of the bindings being cut quickly followed. Rory stood up, dropping his blanket, inhaling sharply at the wallop of cold on his already shivering body. Next came the release of the thick stabilizing straps securing the row of appliances to the back of the truck. Side by side, they worked the box upward from the base it sat on. It was tight, but they were experts at this, and it was soon up as high as it could go. Both men pulled the top of the massive appliance forward, and Clint braced it while Rory struggled to free the box. At one point he was pressed hard against Clint, but the man never flinched. It finally cleared and toppled over Rory, standing upside down and upright, a cardboard monolith.

“Home, sweet home.”

“Let’s get in it,” Rory said without thinking.

“We’re almost there. We have to lay the Styrofoam pieces down first. I want to get a tight fit so no cold comes up from the floor.”

“Sorry. Right.”

 

Their little home was soon ready, with the insulation well-fitted and covered with one of the blankets. Both men were shivering violently, but the work was done. Unfortunately, they needed to piss, and had to spend time and energy pulling on the door before it could be freed enough to pull upwards. Two shaking streams were directed out the bottom foot of open door, and the wind that blew in felt like it carried sharp needles. It was a relief to slam the door back down on the still-raging weather.

They closed up the open bottom of the box by draping their wet clothes at the end, and they worked like heavy curtains. First Rory, and then Clint, crawled into the new, cosier cave. “I have never been so cold in my life,” Rory stammered. He’d reached impossible limits, and didn’t feel well at all.

“I know. Turn around and I’ll hold you. We’re safe now. Geez, your hair is frozen stiff. We’ll make it through this, okay?”

Rory just nodded as strong arms wrapped around him, rubbing against a mass of goose bumps. With three blankets over them and their heads, and the foam and blanket under them, their cocoon soon began to build warmth. It was pitch dark, and before too long, it was pure heaven. Rory slowly let his fear slip away, and something else replaced it… a contentment that went beyond returning warmth. He was confused, and needed to know more. Was there affection or functionality in the way Clint was rubbing his arms, shoulders and chest? His feet were being continually rubbed by Clint’s own. Was Rory wrong in thinking the man was showing a deeper than necessary concern for him? He wanted to ask him a question, but he didn’t want to spoil this new and probably fragile atmosphere between them. In the bright light of day, would they go back to being aloof and at odds with each other? Would the man’s homophobia flare up again?

He played it safe. “Benoit will be worried when we don’t arrive back.”

“Yeah, he will, but it won’t be the first time it’s happened. There’s not much he can do anyway, with phones down. For all we know, the city’s in total darkness.” Clint’s breath floated along Rory’s neck and shoulder.

Despite warming up, Rory shivered. “Hell of a way to start the holidays if that’s the case. It took weeks to restore power in that big ice storm you mentioned.”

“Maybe it won’t be that bad. People manage. We’re managing.”

“Yeah, thanks to you. This was a great idea, Clint. So… do you still hate me?” The question just slipped out. Maybe it was the darkness… and the close proximity of the man.

“Rory, I never hated you… I’m sorry you thought I did. I just….”

Rory waited, but the rest appeared not to be coming. “So, what are your plans for Christmas?”

“Spending it alone. My aunt invited me to her place but it’s too much hassle to travel that far.”

“Oh. Why aren’t you spending it with your girlfriend… fiancée?”

There was a moment of silence. “Janet and I aren’t together anymore.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright. Happened months ago, and I haven’t really told anyone. That’s too much hassle too. Answering people’s questions, I mean. In case you didn’t notice, I’m not much of a talker. What about you?”

Rory heard the self-deprecation in his voice, but ignored it. “What about me what?”

“Christmas plans. You and your boyfriend going anywhere?”

“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I haven’t had one for over a year. Why did you think I did?”

“That guy that kisses you when he drops you off? I thought he was your other half.”

“What James? Ewww. No, he’s my sister, and he only drops me off when he needs to use my car.”

“Sister?”

“Yeah. In gay speak, it means a boy friend who’s like a member of your family. Sometimes we have to make up our own families.”

“Oh. But you kiss.”

“No…. we peck, like you do with family. That’s funny. Wait till I tell him. He’s my roommate and my best friend. He’s the one with a boyfriend. Anyway, I’m going to be alone too. James is going to Peter’s, that’s his boyfriend, and I’m staying home because my family are a bunch of homophobes.”

“That sucks.”

Did Clint just squeeze him tighter? “Not really. I don’t mind being alone. After the last couple of Christmases I’ve had, it will be a blessing.”

“I meant about your family being homophobes. That must hurt.”

Rory didn’t know what to say. What was happening here? Had he gotten this man wrong? “I thought that’s what you were.”

“What? Fuck no! Is that why you don’t like me?”

“Yeah. What do you expect? When the big, macho straight guy won’t even talk to or look at the new gay guy, of course that’s what I thought. I’ve seen it way too often. How many times have you actually looked me in the eye?”

“Shit. Oh shit. You’re right.” Rory felt and heard his sigh. “Not about the why, but you’re right that I don’t say much to you, and I don’t do the eye thing like you say. It’s because you make me nervous as shit.”

“Because I’m gay?”

“No! Not that! Because I’m afraid of embarrassing myself. I get tongue-tied around you. And it’s pretty obvious you can’t stand me. You get your back up anytime I’m around, and that just makes it worse. I was so nervous about today when I saw the changes. And then when I saw you and Benoit talking, I jumped the gun and embarrassed myself again.” Clint followed up with a groan.

Rory was trying to figure out what this all meant. “Why do I make you tongue-tied? I’m pretty easy going, and surely you’re not intimidated by me. I’m big, but you’re bigger. I’m not getting this at all.”

“I’m not surprised you don’t; not with the way I’ve botched everything up. I get that way… shit… I get all weird and nervous because I like you.”

“You’re still losing me here… wait… you like me? As in like me?”

“Yeah, as in stupidly attracted to you… like, from the very first moment we were introduced. And yeah, I practically ran away from you, which in retrospect, probably looked unfriendly. In my defense, I wasn’t expecting to react to any guy like that… I mean, I hadn’t for a long time, and it freaked me out.”

Rory was wishing he could see the man’s face, and was tempted to reach for his phone, but decided against it. Maybe the darkness allowed Clint to finally open up. “So, all this fucking time, you liked me. Wow.”

“Yes. But you had a boyfriend, or so I thought, and you seemed to despise the sight of me.”

“But… you had a fiancée?”

Another sigh wafted over his shoulder. “Janet is my friend. I had a boyfriend for six months in college, my first and only one, and we all hung out together. David turned out to be a lying cheater, and so did Janet’s partner. We were hurting, and ended up giving a relationship a try. It was a mistake… no, not a mistake. We gave it a shot. I, ah… told her about you, and that you were proof I was fooling myself. She’s been really cool, and she’s still my best friend. I guess you could say she’s my sister.” Rory heard the smile in his voice.

“So you guys broke up because of me?”

“No, not really. My reaction to you made things clearer in my head. I realized I wasn’t bisexual, even if I was sleeping with a woman. I was… I am gay. Janet and I both knew there was no real passion between us; not the way there should have been, and we were never engaged. Everyone just assumed, and I never corrected the notion.”

“Wow, again. Boy, was I an idiot. I had you pegged completely wrong. I still can’t wrap my head around you liking me all this time.”

“I tried to approach you, but it was a disaster every time; I gave up putting my foot in my mouth. So, Rory?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still hate me?”

“Hate you? No. I don’t think I ever did, not really. I hated the way you ignored me. It galled me, but if I was to be honest, there were a few times I found myself thinking about you too much. That used to piss me off too.”

“You thought about me?”

“Yeah, in a messed up kind of way, I did. You’re not exactly hard to look at.”

“Oh… so then, could you ever see yourself liking me? Sorry. I shouldn’t ask… you don’t have to answer that.”

“How about I answer when we wake up. I’m still digesting that you’re not a homophobe and I was an idiot; I need a nap in the worst way.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Just go to sleep. It’s been a long, tough day.”

Rory felt Clint’s hold on him loosen, and the contact between them diminish. “Hey. Why are you moving away?”

“Ah. I thought you might want a little space while you slept, and it’s a lot warmer now. You’ve stopped shivering.” He sounded different… unsure.

“I don’t want space.”

“You don’t?”

“Hell no. I haven’t been held by a smoking hot man in long, long time. Besides, you don’t just look hot, you are hot, and I want my furnace back.”

Clint chuckled, and Rory heard relief. “Your wish is my command.”

“Good. I like this new you. I could maybe like him a lot.” Clint moved back to his original close position, and Rory sighed. “That’s better. I think I might have answered your question,” he murmured. He was too tired to fully examine this new reality. Just before falling asleep, he entwined his fingers with Clint’s upon feeling lips gently touch his neck and stay there. He could get used to this. Definitely. He made the man nervous enough to be tongue-tied… go figure.

 

Rory woke to the feel of Clint’s arousal. The man, however, was dead to the world, and snoring. It was a comforting sound. He was feeling the chill at his feet, so pulled them up and settled them against warm calf fronts. A powerful gust of wind told him the weather still raged, which made him more appreciative of their warm cocoon. He wondered what time it was, but expected his phone was still useless for information. He’d wait till Clint woke before he checked again. The big guy had really come through for them. Rory had never experienced such mind-numbing cold in his life. But he wasn’t going to complain, because it had led to this. He wasn’t worried for the immediate future. The storm would end at some point, and the roads would be cleared. They were just off the road in plain view, so there would be help eventually. All would be better in daylight. He still had two uneaten power bars and bottled water in the cab of the truck. Bottled ice now.

What mattered was how Clint had opened up to him in the darkness, and the emotion in his earlier question. Rory should have paid closer attention. He’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, and that was on him. Not everyone was like his family. It was a good lesson to learn. He got another periodic squeeze from those loving arms. Yeah, loving is what they were, and he’d felt their protective embrace even in his dreams. They provided a salve for some bitter memories that escalated at this time of year.

Did he see himself liking this guy, as Clint had asked? He already did. While they’d been out delivering Christmas presents to others, they were being delivered their own. Each other. The day had opened his eyes, and, it turned out, his heart. Clint was gay, gorgeous, and he cared about him in a huge way. Yeah, that was a gift. Thank you, Santa. Rory smiled, and right on cue, another gentle squeeze.

An unmistakeable sound could be heard in the distance. A snow plow. It eventually rumbled past them. Rory felt the man holding him stir. He smiled as Clint pulled his groin away.

“You awake?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

Rory knew what he meant. “I’m not. I took it as a compliment. A big compliment.”

Clint chuckled hoarsely. “I guess it was. That was a snow plow I heard, right?”

“Yeah, heading east. In about an hour it should run out of road and head back.”

“We’re going to need a tow. We should check the phone and see if service is restored.”

“Okay, I was waiting till you woke up.”

The light was blinding for a second. “Nope, same message, but if plows are out this far it would mean the town’s been done. We can flag down the plow when it goes by us again?”

“Sounds like a plan. Our clothes will be pretty damp, but if the storm has died down, it shouldn’t be so bad. How are you feeling, Rory? Did you sleep well?”

“Slept awesome, thanks to you.”

“What did I do?”

“You never let go.” He turned around so he could see Clint’s face. The man didn’t look away. Fuck, he looked sexy as hell, bleary eyes and all. “Do you want me to answer your question now?”

“My question? Yeah, but only if you want to. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”

“You opened up to me, Clint. You laid yourself out there, and that took some guts. Do you still feel the same way about me?”

“Fuck yeah, but….”

“Shush. My turn.” Rory had to click his phone button again. “I’m going to answer your question with a question. Will you spend Christmas with me? Do the whole thing: sitting by the tree, Christmas music, hot chocolate, turkey, pie…?”

A smile showed up on Clint’s heavily-bearded face. “How about having that hot chocolate by a fire?”

“I don’t have a fireplace in my apartment, so what did you have in mind?”

“It just so happens I have one in my house. I bought a cottage on Tiny Lake; it’s why I was so worried about losing my job. It’s kind of run down, but it’s clean and comfortable. I’ve been working on it. If there is a power outage, we’d have a heat source to keep us warm, and we could even cook in it if we needed to. I have an air tight wood stove too, and I have lots of firewood.”

Rory saw the enthusiasm in the man’s eyes, and his heart responded. “Sounds perfect. And it’ll be good to have another heat source. I still like my personal one the best, though. Do you have a tree?” he said with a teasing grin.

Clint glowed, and grinned back, and then his face fell. “Ah, no. It didn’t make much sense.”

“Well, it does now. After we deliver these appliances, God willing, we have a lot to do. So are we doing this?” His phone chose that moment to flick off. He fumbled to find the button. When the light reappeared, he was staring at a very happy face.

“Heck yeah, we’re doing this. So, Rory?” Clint’s smile slipped. “Is this more than just Christmas?”

“I sure as heck hope so, Clint. Never thought I’d be thankful for a wicked blizzard.”

The brilliant smile returned, and Rory thought it heart-stoppingly beautiful. “Me neither.” The big man faltered again. “I wish I could brush my teeth right now, because I want so much to….”

Rory stopped him from finishing, not caring about morning mouth or anything else. He needed this, and he knew Clint did too. It started out slow and tentative, but months of strong emotions soon surfaced, and Rory was left breathless, and a little stunned. Oh Santa… I must have been a very good boy this year.