From the time he could remember he always got caught up in the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season. Even though his family did not celebrate the holiday, it was a holiday for them nonetheless. Everyone was off from work, and those who were away at school came home for the holidays. Mom always made a big dinner to celebrate the fact that the family was together again. There was no religious significance to the dinner, but there was plenty of family love.
David Stein worked for a large New York City law firm. Not only did the firm make an extravagant "holiday" party every year, but he was always invited to the office parties of many of his clients. It was hard not to be festive, and he always participated in the spirit and good cheer of the season. He even began to believe that miracles were possible during this merry (and holy for many) season. Maybe it was because he believed in miracles, that he was able to experience his own personal holiday miracle.
One of his clients was a large clothing manufacturer. The company only produced designer labels, and some of the world's top designers used their services. They also engaged many independent manufacturers' representatives to sell their products. One of them was Timothy Farrell. As fate would have it Timothy and David were both invited to the company's Christmas Party.
They met at the punch bowl. Both reached for the ladle at the same time and they started to laugh.
"You first," Tim said.
"No way, you first," Dave answered.
"I've got this," Tim said. He filled a glass of punch and handed it to Dave. Then he filled one for himself. He motioned Dave over to a corner. He offered a hand shake to Dave with his free hand.
"Tim Farrell," he said.
"Dave Stein." Dave replied.
They started to chat, and were pleased to learn that they had graduated from the same high school in Brooklyn, NY. Dave was a year ahead of Tim. He went on to Columbia University and then Columbia Law School. Tim went to Brooklyn College for two years, but was forced to quit and get a job to help support his widowed mother and his two younger brothers.
In just a few moments they learned a lot about each other, but neither had perfected their gaydar well enough to know that they were both gay. However, they did know that they liked each other, and didn't want the other to just walk away and disappear from the other's life. There was nothing sexual about that...yet.
Finally Dave asked, "Would you like to go someplace quieter than here where we can hear each other talk?"
"Gee Dave, I'd like to do that. I'd like it a lot, but I have a date with some friends."
"Maybe you can give me a rain check."
"Of course, but I travel about seventy-five percent of the time. I'm not around much."
"Well, here's my card. I travel occasionally too, but I'm mostly at home here in the city. Where do you call home?"
"Here in the city also. Here's my card. I've gotta go now. It's been really nice meeting you, Dave. I sincerely hope we meet again soon."
Before Tim could leave, Mr. Simmons, his boss, made an announcement on the loudspeaker. "This is the moment, every year, when I ask you all to offer a silent prayer, and pray that your wishes will come true this holy time of year."
Tim and Dave had both heard this announcement in past years, and had scoffed inwardly, but this year they both made the same wish.
"I sure hope he calls me. I hope the guy is gay, but I think not."
After Tim left, Dave suddenly didn't feel very merry, and he decided to leave the party also. It was still early and he decided to have a final drink of the evening at his favorite gay bar. He hoped he would run into a friend there. It was not good to be alone during the holiday season. This was always the (only) time of year when Dave got a little sad that he didn't have a partner to share it with.
He went to Tropical Zone and ordered a gin and tonic. He nursed the one drink for over an hour. During that time, he approached nobody and nobody approached him. He went home to an empty bed. When he got into bed, he wondered if Tim was home yet. He decided to call. If he was home, he could have a nice chat with him. If he wasn't home he could leave a message or hang up. He decided to cross that bridge when he got to it.
"Hi Dave," Tim answered. He obviously had read his caller ID. "I'm so glad you called. What's going on?"
"Not much. I just wondered if you were home yet, and I felt like chatting."
"Yeah. I had a drink with my friends, but I didn't feel like partying, so I went home. I'm in bed already."
"So am I."
"I guess we're in the same boat," Tim said.
"What boat is that?"
"Nobody special in our lives."
"How right you are," Dave agreed.
"It's hard to believe that a good looking guy like you hasn't been gobbled up by some hot chick."
Dave cringed. He wanted to yell out, "No chick dufus. It's you I want," but he said instead, "There's nobody special. It looks like it's the same for you."
"Right. There's nobody special."
"Do you think we could meet for dinner some night soon?" Dave asked.
"I'd like that Dave, I really would, but I'm going on a business trip tomorrow. I'll be back on the 23rd and I won't be home until after the New Year."
Could I take a rain check? I'll call the minute I get back."
"Promise?"
"Promise!"
Tim did not call when he got back. He called from the road a couple of days later. "I just wanted to make sure you're behaving yourself," he joked.
This time they talked for over two hours. If you asked either one of them what they talked about, they wouldn't know, but they learned everything about each other except that they were both gay. Both of them were afraid to broach the subject for fear of alienating the other. Even if their relationship was going to remain platonic, they both wanted that, rather than the alternative of no relationship at all.
On the night of December 23, Dave called Tim at home every couple of hours. He did not leave a message and he didn't call on Tim's cell. He didn't want to appear anxious. Eventually Tim answered the phone.
"I just got in," he said.
"I want to ask you to dinner, but I guess you'll be busy with your family for the next two days."
"I can get away about 3 PM on Christmas Day. I won't feel much like eating, but maybe we can meet for a drink."
"Shit. My mom doesn't serve Christmas dinner until about 2 PM."
"A nice Jewish boy has Christmas dinner?" Tim asked jokingly.
"This Jewish boy does. Maybe we can meet in the evening."
"Look," Tim said. "This is getting too complicated. Suppose we just meet up the day after Christmas. Do you know Duffy's Irish Bar on 57th Street?"
"Sure, everybody does. What time?"
"Is six OK?"
"Perfect." Dave hung up. His heart was beating like a drum. He didn't think he could last until it was time to meet Tim.
To kill time, he left his mother's home in Brooklyn after Christmas dinner, and took the subway to Greenwich Village. He went directly to Tropical Zone. It was after ten o'clock. He figured on one quick drink and then he would go home, dream of Tim and whack off. Well, at least that was something to look forward to.
He went inside and headed for the bar. The place was mobbed with Christmas revelers. As he approached the bar, he saw him. Tim had seen him first. He was standing there and smiling the biggest shit eaten grin anyone ever saw. Dave began to cry.
"Merry Christmas," Dave said.
"Happy Chanukah."
They fell into each other's arms, both sobbing like babies.
"I wished for this," Tim said, "at the Simmons' party."
"Me too," Dave slobbered.
"I'll never laugh at Mr. Simmons again," Tim said. "He's a regular Santa Claus. This is a genuine miracle. I'll never be a doubter again."
"Me either. Let me buy you a drink," Dave said.
"And after the drink?" Tim laughed, leaving the question unfinished.
"I'll leave that to your imagination," Dave said.
"No way. I've been imagining us together for a couple of weeks. Now I'd like to experience a little reality."
Again they embraced. This time, oblivious to their surroundings, they began to kiss. The first kiss was tentative, but it felt so good. They tried again. This time their lips parted and their tongues met. They pushed up against each other and could feel their hard cocks crushing together.
"Skip the drink," Tim said. "Let's go home. Your place or mine? I live right around the corner."
They ran all the way to Tim's apartment, and up two flights of stairs. There were no elevators in the building.
When they got upstairs, it was Dave who suggested that they offer thanks to the angels who had answered their prayers. Tim turned off all the lights in his apartment, and he lit the Christmas tree. The room was bathed in a soft glow which illuminated their faces and made them look like the angels they wanted to pray to. After they prayed and offered their thanks, they held each other tightly. They were still dressed.
"Merry Christmas," Dave said.
"This is the happiest Christmas of my life."