Nick lost the battle. “No, I have to sell my arse on the street corner to pay the rent every month,” he snapped. “Yes, of course I earn a decent living. I wouldn’t keep doing it if I didn’t!”
Jackson choked on his crumble, and Pete’s jaw dropped, eyes wide.
During the silence that followed, Nick’s father’s face turned an interesting shade of purple, and his eyes flashed as he glared. Nick felt savage satisfaction at seeing his relaxed demeanour finally slip. This angry version was more familiar, and Nick was strangely glad he’d managed to provoke him. When his father finally spoke, his voice was icy. “I was just making conversation, Nick. There’s no need to be so sensitive, and there was no call for rudeness.”
Nick wasn’t going to defend himself, and he certainly wasn’t going to apologise. “Well you should ask better questions. And I was only making a joke, so perhaps you’re the one who’s being over-sensitive.”
There was an awkward pause, and then Nick’s mother launched in with, “Jackson, what do you do?”
“I teach P.E. in a secondary school,” Jackson replied.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she said brightly. “Do you enjoy it?”
“Mostly. Some of my classes are pretty challenging, but overall it’s okay.”
“No wonder you look so fit.”
“He’s a gym rat as well,” Nick said, putting a hand on Jackson’s bicep and giving it a squeeze. “Which explains the guns. Teaching alone wouldn’t be enough to keep him looking this hot.” He grinned at Jackson, who gave him a slightly strained smile in return.
There was another uncomfortable silence. Nick didn’t care. He was enjoying making his parents squirm. It felt like revenge for all the times he’d sat at this table feeling angry, hurt, frustrated, inferior. He released Jackson’s arm and took another spoonful of crumble.
The conversation started up around him again as Maria began talking about returning to work after her maternity leave. Nick zoned out, eating methodically and ruminating on the past.
Jackson sat silently beside him. A flash of guilt spiked through Nick. This couldn’t be fun for Jackson. He’d ditched his own infinitely happier family Christmas for one that was full of stress and unresolved conflict. Nick deliberately shit-stirring was only making it more unpleasant for everyone—including the people around the table he didn’t have issues with. Jackson wasn’t the only one who fell into that category. He glanced at Maria and caught her worried gaze, and he resolved to try to behave better for the rest of the evening.
After dinner, they got out Pictionary, which had always been a family tradition. Apparently nothing had changed since Nick’s last Christmas Eve with them.
“How shall we decide the teams?” Pete asked.
“Why don’t you go with Nick and Jackson, and Adrian and I will make a four with Mum and Dad,” Maria suggested quickly.
Thankfully there were no arguments about that as they rearranged the seating to fit the chosen teams. Maybe everyone realised that drawing lots for their teammates could have ended badly.
“I’m always happy to be on the same team as the professional artist for this game.” Pete grinned at Nick and clapped him roughly on the shoulder as he took the seat beside him.
“Yeah, you see. I have my uses,” Nick replied. Pictionary had been the one time where anyone in his family had appreciated his talents. Pete and their mother were both equally crap at drawing, and although his father was decent, he couldn’t sketch fast under pressure. “Unfortunately my other half isn’t so gifted in the drawing department, though.” He patted Jackson on the thigh. “So you win some, you lose some.” Jackson’s leg felt wonderfully muscular through his trousers, so Nick left his hand there a little longer than necessary.
Jackson wasn’t actually that bad at drawing, and Adrian and Nick’s mother were both fairly terrible. So Nick’s team were in the lead as they were getting towards the end of the game. When they landed on the final All Play square it was Nick’s turn to draw for his team, while his father was drawing for the others.
Nick looked at the card and gave a snort of amusement. Vibrate. This should be interesting. “Here you go.” He handed the card to his father.
There was really only one easy way to draw it, so as soon as the time started Nick went in for the kill and drew a large dick shape on the page.
“Um… what the hell?” Pete said. “I didn’t think we were playing rude Pictionary!”
Nick ignored him, scribbling wiggly lines around it.
“Vibrating!” Jackson said. Nick nodded, drawing more lines and jabbing the paper with his pencil insistently. “Vibe… vibrator… vibrate!”
“Yes!” Nick burst out. “Nice one.” As Jackson grinned at him triumphantly, Nick leant in and kissed him quickly on the lips.
Jackson’s eyes widened for a second, but then he schooled his features into a casual expression that suggested he was used to Nick kissing him randomly. “Thanks,” he replied. “I do my best.”