A Little Something for Santa
By J.M. Snyder
Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords
This story is included in the print book Shorts by J.M. Snyder.
Visit http://www.jmsnyder.net for more information.
Copyright 2010 J.M. Snyder
ISBN 978-1-45240-269-7
For more titles by J.M. Snyder at Smashwords visit https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jmsnyder
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Cover Photo Credit: Mummu Media
Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
Cover Design: J.M. Snyder
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
NOTE: “A Little Something for Santa” originally appeared online at Ruthie’s Club and also appears in the anthology Four Seasons Winter 2009, published by eXcessica Publishing.
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A Little Something for Santa
By J.M. Snyder
There’s nothing worse than pulling down the graveyard shift at Sylvia’s Grill. By seven in the evening, the dinner crowd has thinned out. Maybe we get a few families in before nine for dessert or ice cream. But after that, it’s basically dead until the next morning, when workers from the rubber plant start to trickle in for breakfast.
During that long stretch from midnight to five it was just Chris and me, wiping down the tables or sweeping the floor, cleaning the grill, cutting veggies and meats to keep up our stock. The stoplight across the street went on the blink a little after ten p.m. We moved around the diner at a languid pace. The whole night stretched out before us, an indeterminable wait.
Chris, the night cook, was a full head shorter than me and twice as big. I wouldn’t say fat, exactly, but he could put away two twelve-inch subs over the course of our shift, and he was always nibbling on the fries. The wire glasses he wore, perched on constantly flushed cheeks, seemed too small for his round face. My first day on the job he spent half the shift going on and on about a girlfriend I suspected was made up on the spot to impress me. Chris was the type who probably hadn’t been out on a date in his entire life and was still waiting for that first real kiss. Before he got too far into his boast, I cut him off with, “Girls aren’t really my thing.”
We were between customers at the time, and Chris stared at me for a full minute, turning my words over in his head as if trying to puzzle through them. Finally, he lowered his voice and said, “You mean you’re…” Letting the sentence dangle between us, he raised his eyebrows and nodded at me, wanting me to say it, but there was a shiny interest in his face that made me think I wasn’t the only one who liked dick. Before I could answer, Chris wanted to know, “So, are you with someone right now?”
With a shrug, I replied, “Not really.”
Bad move. I should’ve made up a boy to use as a shield between us, because Chris slid a little closer and tentatively touched the counter two inches from my hand. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like,” he started. He had a way of beginning to say something and then stopping to look me over, as if seeking my approval before going on. “You know, with another guy.”
“I’ve never been with a girl, so there’s nothing for me to compare it to,” I said. “I’ve just always liked guys.”