Heaving for breath, I turned away from the unconscious man on the floor and faced the motel room. To my horror, Jensen stood in the center of what was left of the room. Most of the furniture was fine, for the most part, but the coffee table in front of the couch had shattered beneath someone’s weight, and the TV had been thrown across the room, like myself.
Everything I had spent time and money to have ready for a surprise Christmas was either smashed, broken, or spilled. The tree lay in ruins, barely recognizable anymore after I had landed on it, the fruitcake and eggnog, both of which had been sitting on the coffee table, were now garnishing the rug, and at least half of the rest of the decorations had been torn down. And all of the presents had been completely obliterated.
For a moment all I could do was stare at the wreckage. I had worked so hard to have everything perfect for when Jensen and Jared returned so that we could have some semblance of a normal Christmas, and it had all been torn apart in less than ten minutes. Less than five even.
Then everything was too much. I was tired, I hurt all over, and I was heartbroken that I couldn’t give the boys something as simple as Christmas. I burst into tears.
Now, you may have noticed that while I say I’m not a crier, I do happen to cry an awful lot. It’s mostly when I’m tired or overwhelmed, and it really gets on my nerves. I should be strong enough to not cry, but I’m not. So I just stood, bawling my eyes out, and wishing I could disappear.
Then Jensen surprised me by striding across the room and gathering me into his strong arms. For a moment my tears stopped and I hiccupped, surprised, then I went on sobbing into his tee shirt. It was embarrassing, but I had to get it out some time.
“I tried” hic “to surprise you,” hic “but now everything’s” hic “ruined.” I said between hiccups and sobs. Jensen ran a hand up and down my back, and a shiver followed his touch. I calmed down a little, enough to where I was just whimpering and hiccupping, and clutched at Jensen tightly.
“We can fix it,” Jensen finally said into my mass of hair. I nodded absently, then frowned. I leaned backwards and looked up at him.
“How?” I asked. From what I could tell the tree was irreparably damaged and we couldn’t drink eggnog out of the carpet; that was gross, and I grimaced just thinking about it. He chuckled, then shrugged.
“We’ll think of something,” he said, brushing a hand across my cheek to wipe away my tears. My breathing stuttered at his intimate touch, and for a moment everything was suspended. Was this his reaction to the kiss from months ago? I was scared to find out.
Then he bent down and kissed me. It was gentle at first, a curious question, and when I responded favorably, it grew harder, more passionate. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back just as hard, just as passionately.
After what felt like forever but was probably only ten seconds, Jensen pulled away, placing both hands on my face.
“Jared’ll be back any minute now,” he said. I wished the kissing would go on, but he was right. I frowned when I realized I didn’t know where Jared was.
“Where—” I started and Jensen smiled.
“I sent him to get Christmas dinner,” he said. I smiled.
“How thoughtful.” I turned in his arms and looked around the room. It wasn’t going to be easy fixing everything up, but from what I could see it was doable. I think.“Let’s get started,” Jensen said, releasing me.