*Driving Home For Christmas*

 

              He slumped heavily into the back of the chair and allowed himself to put his feet on the desk. Clasping his hands behind his head, he lifted it slightly to make sure he was alone. With a weary gaze, he looked dispassionately at the almost deserted department. Through the glass panes, he had a good view of the rest of the empty offices leading to the aquarium, where the light was still on. The pleasantly warm glow coming from that office made the interior of his room look cozy and safer – shielded from the rest of the world ravaged by December winds. Even now, snow was sharply beating against the windows, drumming an uneasy rhythm. Adam, however, remained at his post, suspended as if in another spacetime.

 

              The days when he was expected to work during the holidays were long gone. After so many years of service, no one dared ask him to stay here on this particular day. Yet, he had agreed to it himself. He was sitting at the station on Christmas Eve of his own volition and was beginning to think he was a complete idiot.

 

              Just a few days ago, he deluded himself into thinking that these holidays would be his first peaceful and normal ones. Deep down, he dreamed of preparing a traditional dinner, eating it with someone special, and then spending two very long days in bed, enjoying intimacy. He even had a gift and had done the shopping… But the year-end closing at Babylon completely ruined his plans. Instead of a dream dinner, naughty gifts, and sex, he faced the prospect of spending a dozen hours at the station, during which he didn't know what to do with himself.

 

              Konrad didn't even have to tell him that he wanted to spend Christmas Eve at the office. That's why Adam helped him make the decision and was the first to say he wouldn't be home. He knew perfectly well that his boyfriend hated this time of year, despised doing what everyone else did, and definitely didn't conform to conventions. Today was a normal workday for Gronczewski. Plus, the end of the year was approaching, and Konrad had a ton of paperwork. The time when the club was empty and quiet was the best period to fulfill such duties.

 

              Aleksandrowicz closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the quieting city. Most people were probably sitting down to dinner now or sharing wafers and exchanging wishes. He could only go to the guardroom and exchange a few words with whoever was working there today. How pathetic, he thought, and smiled sadly at his thoughts.

 

              It wasn't that he was missing out on all that most people in this country usually did for the holidays. He didn't miss observing those traditions. He never did. Nor was he religious. He was more concerned with creating new customs. With breaking the spell of all those lonely years. With being with someone he loved. I don't even have to eat this stupid dinner, he thought and sighed heavily once more, giving in.

 

              He had to get through this night somehow. In the morning, he would go home, slip into bed, and cling to Konrad's body. He would swallow his damn pride and somehow persuade the man to spend the rest of his free time with him.

 

              He smiled to himself and began to formulate a speech in his head that might convince Gronczewski to stay home on the first day of Christmas. For a moment, he got lost in his thoughts and even started to drift off to sleep so much that he didn't hear the slamming of a door at the other end of the department and the rhythmic click of heels echoing on the terrazzo. Only when someone unexpectedly knocked his feet off the desk did Adam shake himself awake, instantly opening his eyes.

 

              "You're setting a bad example," the woman said first.

 

              "To whom, Elka? To ghosts?" Aleksandrowicz scoffed, putting his feet back on the desk.

 

              "As God is my witness, a six-year-old..." she sighed impatiently and shook her head in disapproval.

 

              "You don't, and don't complain," he grumbled. "Be glad I'm here."

 

              "Am I supposed to be happy that you're a coward and can't talk to your boyfriend?" she added, a cheeky smile plastered on her perfectly red lips. "I'm going home."

 

              "It's about time, workaholic," he replied, giving her a meaningful look. "You could at least take a break for the holidays."

 

              "You know very well I can't let go right now," Elka said firmly. "Not now, when everything is finally going my way."

 

              "Everyone you could impress is currently stuffing their faces with carp and pierogi," Aleksandrowicz assured her, but then added more softly, "Go home in peace, and I'll take care of everything."

 

              The woman smiled genuinely this time, adding:

 

              "You're going home too."

 

              "Excuse me?"

 

              "You heard me right. I'm ordering you to go home."

 

              "Elka, I'm on duty!"

 

              "I outrank you, so I can relieve you of it," she replied decisively, suddenly focusing on the contents of her handbag.

 

              She slammed it onto the desk, searching intently for something. Not giving Adam a chance to speak, she continued:

 

              "Prevention is well staffed and they'll surely manage, even if they have to think a little harder than usual. Especially since we have nothing urgent in progress…" She paused for a moment, pulling a package from her bag. "This is for your pathetic boyfriend."

 

              She placed a golden box on the counter and, placing her finger on it, tapped its lid a few times to the rhythm of her words.

 

              "You could say there's something for you inside too, so unpack it at home, and give the rest to Konrad…" she explained to the dumbfounded man. "Did you understand, or is that too difficult a task for you?"

 

              "But what will I do alone at home?" he groaned, dissatisfied, but the woman had already moved to the door.

 

              "That's no longer my problem!" she just threw over her shoulder and left.

***

 

              He slid into the seat of the sports car, breathing slowly and deeply. Soft darkness enveloped the interior of the car, and only thanks to the faint light of distant streetlights, which gently dispersed the gloom, could he discern the details of the vehicle. The entire surroundings also fell silent, and even from the main road, there was no usual city hum. The sounds were further muffled by the rapidly falling snow, which covered everything with a thick layer of white fluff.

 

              Konrad hadn't seen Wrocław so sleepy in a long time and found himself sitting motionless in the car for a good few minutes, enjoying the peace. The prevailing atmosphere relaxed him so much that he didn't even get angry when the fuses in Babylon suddenly and mystically blew. The effect of this event was that Konrad couldn't finish his intended work and had no reason to stay longer in the office.
At this thought, he finally stirred and started the engine. As he drove off, a Christmas melody filled the car's speakers. The slightly hoarse voice of a jazz singer urged him to go home. But Gronczewski had nothing to go back to. Or rather – no one. Adam was on duty and there was probably no chance he would finish work before morning. So the song didn't fill him with a very festive mood, but rather flooded him with waves of melancholy and caused a sudden feeling of loneliness. Or perhaps it was just that strange Christmas spirit? Had it visited his office, messed up the electrical system? And now it infused him with an overwhelming longing.

 

              But what could Konrad long for, since he had never had it? His family was far from normal. On Christmas, his father would throw a party that ended in brawls. He would force their mother to participate, then forget about her, ending up in bed with another woman. His brother didn't need much convincing to join his father in drinking. Iwona would go to her grandmother's, somewhere in Masuria, or so she said, and then disappear god knows where. And him? He would wander around the city, hoping to hook up in a back alley. And for a long time afterward, sex was the only way Konrad could feel anything. Anything at all. Until... Until he met a stubborn police officer who slowly taught him how to live differently.

 

              Besides, Konrad didn't like to do anything by halves. If he decided on something, he went all in. That's why he wanted to give Adam much more than just pleasure. He wanted to take care of him. And however terrifying this desire seemed to him, Gronczewski did it automatically, completely naturally. For this reason, too, he tried to overcome his aversion to holidays and sought a way to disenchant his memories. But Adam didn't even give him a chance. A few days ago, he announced that he was on duty on Christmas Eve and they would have to move their plans to next year.

 

              What could Konrad do about it, besides coming up with a cheap excuse like year-end closing, which he normally outsourced to an accounting firm in January? As it turns out, even that plan didn't work out, he thought and snorted to himself.
Now all he could do was wait at home for the police officer to return. Maybe then he would be able to somehow make up for Adam for this lost time, he added in his thoughts and headed towards the apartment, fulfilling the words of the song.

 

              When he arrived, the apartment seemed almost sinister – empty, quiet, and plunged into semi-darkness where the flickering city lights didn't reach. They pulsed with colors and flowed across the furniture and white walls, making the interior look in places like it was lit by the aurora borealis.

 

              Resigned, he slowly approached the kitchen island, heavily placing his briefcase on the counter. With the force of the impact, the clasp sprang open, releasing several pages of documents that floated softly to the floor. He was about to bend down to collect them when suddenly something shiny caught his attention.

 

              He reached for the light switch, and the entire kitchen lit up with a pleasant glow. All shapes emerged from the darkness, including a small, golden box lying on the island. Open and empty, it seemed almost unreal in the harmonious space. The red ribbon it was probably wrapped in lay discarded on an open envelope. A white, unfolded card invited him to read it.

 

              The man frowned, running his fingers through his hair in an agitated gesture. He didn't care for surprises, as they reminded him of all the unpleasant events of recent years, when he had almost lost Adam. So he cautiously peered inside, making sure there was nothing in the box, and only then did he take the card.

 

              "For Konrad," he read aloud, surprised.

 

              His security must be seriously overzealous, not only scanning his mail but also unwrapping it and taking the contents – he thought, promising himself that after the holidays he would find out which of his employees could have gone to such lengths.

 

              Now, however, he didn't feel like thinking about it anymore. All he wanted was a hot shower. So he bent down for the documents and began to quickly gather them from the floor when something else suddenly caught his eye. A wide red ribbon began to coil on the floor right next to the kitchen island and, like a crimson stream of satin, spread through the living room, only to turn immediately towards the bedroom.

 

              For a moment, he thought that perhaps one of the security guards had gone even further and wanted to compensate him for Adam's absence, but some other, uneasy thought suddenly revived his hope. Intrigued, he smiled involuntarily and slowly followed the red trail. Along the way, he merely kicked his shoes into the corner of the hallway, and creeping silently into the bedroom, he slipped off his socks. When he noticed that the ribbon had disappeared between the half-open bathroom door, he reached for his shirt buttons. The fabric slid from his shoulders, falling to the floor right before the threshold of the next room. Clad only in his jeans, he pushed one of the half-open panels and peered inside with curiosity.

 

              The bathroom interior was bathed in the subtle glow of candles. There weren't too many of them, and because of this, the soft darkness became even more saturated with promise. The glow and shimmer crawled across the tiles and led the man's gaze to the enormous bathtub, where Adam lay in the steaming water. The police officer's eyes were closed, and a delicate smile adorned his full lips. With his head resting on the rim, he seemed relaxed, as the subtle light played on his wet body. It flowed over strong arms. It slid across perfectly defined abdominal muscles. And then suddenly dissolved into the depths of the foam, only to sparkle a moment later on a leg resting against the opposite edge of the tub. It was there, on the man's ankle, that a crimson red bow shone, forming the culmination of the path marked by the ribbon spread throughout the apartment.

 

              Konrad walked slowly towards the police officer, standing over him with his arms crossed. Aleksandrowicz lazily lifted his eyelids, giving Gronczewski an amused look.

 

              "Merry Christmas," he grumbled. "How do you like Elka's present?"

 

              "From Elka?" the surprised gangster asked, raising an eyebrow in appreciation. "I'm impressed."

 

              "I'm glad," Adam admitted, playfully nudging Gronczewski's hand with his foot. "What are you going to do with it?"

 

              "I'll figure something out..." Konrad mumbled, sitting on the edge of the tub. "Once I find out how you knew I'd be home so early? Were you planning to sit in that tub until morning?"

 

              "Did you forget that I'm one of the best detectives in this country, and your security has a connection to Babylon's surveillance?"

 

              "You were spying on me?" Gronczewski laughed briefly, not taking his eyes off his partner's body.

 

              His hand touched the surface of the water, slowly immersing itself. He touched the police officer's warmed skin, moving only his fingertips over Aleksandrowicz's heated skin, to finally grope for the knot of the bow. Konrad's gaze never left the detective's eyes, which now glistened with anticipation for more. The gangster didn't make him wait long – with one swift pull, he unwrapped his present.

 

              "I'm quite surprised you picked up on Elka's idea," he said with unusual caution. "She practically sacrificed you to me."
Adam laughed heartily, wondering aloud: "Maybe she picked it up at one of those witch conventions?"

 

              "This time, I'm glad that witch attends them," Gronczewski assured him playfully.

 

              The detective merely snorted a short laugh, but he didn't manage to add anything more, because the other man's hand resumed its journey. With a strange indecision, Konrad led his fingertips along Aleksandrowicz's calf and lazily submerged his hand under the water. Adam had waited too long for the gangster to finally find him, and now he was all craving. Without thinking twice, he grabbed Gronczewski's wrist, pulling the man towards him. But before he could reach his partner's lips, Konrad swayed on the rim of the tub and fell into the water with a splash.

 

              "I'm sorry..." Adam began and, no longer able to hold back, burst into laughter at the sight of the drenched man emerging.
The gangster wiped his face, pushing his wet hair off his forehead.

 

              "You're ruining the mood," he grumbled, still trying to get out of his wet pants.

 

              "I'm ruining the mood?" Aleksandrowicz scoffed, trying to maintain his composure while simultaneously helping Konrad with his zipper buttons.

 

              "And who came up with the idea of doing year-end closing on Christmas Eve? We could have been in this tub together already."

 

              Impatient, Gronczewski pushed away the police officer's hands, tugging at the fabric as he added:

 

              "I made up the closing because you made up the duty."

 

              "I requested," Adam emphasized the word, continuing, "duty, because I knew you didn't want to be home today."

 

              Konrad slightly recoiled at these words, looking at Adam with renewed interest. A new note of annoyance sounded in his partner's voice. He probably would have clung to it for a bit longer and pursued the topic, but suddenly he decided that this particular accusation would have to wait, because now he had a wet and heated Aleksandrowicz within reach and he wasn't going to waste any more time.

 

              "Screw it," he muttered to himself.

 

              In his next move, he smoothly stepped between Aleksandrowicz's splayed legs, falling hungrily onto his lips. He instantly pulled the police officer closer, positioning him beneath him to have full control.
Adam's hands instinctively slid over Gronczewski's skin. He dug his fingers into the man's muscles. Drawing whitened marks of his greed, Aleksandrowicz finally slipped his hands under the rough, wet fabric of the pants, pulling them down decisively from the gangster's buttocks.

 

               —Here first—Konrad whispered in the policeman’s ear, pressing his body even closer. —Later in the kitchen.

 

               —In the bedroom—Adam objected, trying greedily to catch the gangster’s lips again.

 

               —In the bedroom—Gronczewski quickly corrected himself and managed to smile before Adam caught them in another sudden kiss.

***

 

 

               The rushing water broke the stuffy silence that had been filled with their rapid breaths just moments before. The hot water pleasantly enveloped their tired bodies, relaxing both men. It restored peace and tranquility. And as soon as Adam succumbed to this relaxation and settled back in the bathtub, the gangster immediately found a comfortable spot, leaning his back against the policeman’s warm torso.

 

               —Well, alright—Gronczewski said softly, almost resignedly.

 

               —This one day a year, I can say Elka sometimes has good ideas.

 

               —You know she only gave me the ribbon, and I thought of everything else myself?—Adam asked, slightly offended.

 

               —She didn't even give you instructions?—the gangster inquired with feigned surprise.

 

               Aleksandrowicz rolled his eyes, but the other man couldn't see it. Konrad spread himself even more between his legs. Rubbing his rough cheek against the policeman's cheek, he turned slightly to leave a few small kisses wherever he could reach.

 

               —Good to know I’m teaching you something, after all—Gronczewski whispered, smiling into Adam's warm skin.

 

               Adam laughed aloud, running his soapy fingers through the blond’s hair. Slowly, he began to lather the shampoo among the strands, gently massaging the man's scalp. Konrad relaxed more and more with each passing moment, growing heavier. His hands found Aleksandrowicz’s calves in the water, settling there to begin a leisurely, light massage. The policeman involuntarily sighed, as the gangster’s fingers moved between his hitherto tense muscles with a perfectly balanced touch that teetered somewhere on the border of pain and pleasure.

 

               —I'm not mad that you didn't want to celebrate these holidays with me—he whispered after a long moment of silence. —I understand that you don't have very cheerful memories from this period.

 

               —Do you?—Gronczewski asked, surprising Adam.

 

               The policeman paused his caress for a moment, pondering the answer. As usual in such moments, he realized how similar he and Konrad were. How much their lives resembled mirror images – composed of comparable humiliations, the same disappointments, and an equally overwhelming sense of loneliness.

 

               —I wish I had different memories—he finally replied and added more softly: —New ones.

 

               At these words, Gronczewski’s hands tightened even more on his muscles. The gangster stopped the massage, rising a little higher to turn and look at Adam.

 

               —Why didn’t you tell me?—he asked seriously, not taking his eyes off the detective’s face.

 

               Aleksandrowicz shrugged, reluctantly replying: —I was ashamed that I needed you so much?

 

               Konrad clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction, as a shadow of disappointment appeared in his gaze for a moment. Adam, however, knew that the man wasn't displeased with him, but rather with the fact that he hadn't interpreted the signs he was giving him correctly.

 

               —Okay, we’ll do this—he began to say decisively—as a first present for our shared holidays, I want a promise from you.
Aleksandrowicz furrowed his brow, surprised.

 

               —What promise?—he inquired.

 

               —You have to promise me that from now on, you’ll always tell me what you want—the gangster said with a confident voice.

 

               —But surely...

 

               —Promise—Gronczewski demanded. —I want to hear it.

 

               —Okay, okay—Aleksandrowicz whispered, afraid to speak louder, as his voice would surely betray too many emotions. —I promise. Satisfied?

 

               —Not entirely—Konrad added with a wry smile. —You haven't received your present from me yet—he added, leaning over the edge of the tub.

 

               Adam watched as the man reached for his forgotten and still wet jeans, only to retrieve something from their back pocket a moment later. When the gangster sat back in the tub, keys jingled in his hand. Gronczewski unclipped one that looked like a car key.

 

               —This is from me—he said, slightly embarrassed, placing it in Aleksandrowicz’s hand.

 

               The detective quickly looked at Konrad before glancing at the object in his hand. There was no mistake—it was a motorcycle key. To a new Ducati model.

 

               —Konrad, I can't…—he began, but Gronczewski interrupted him.

 

               —You just promised you’d clearly communicate your needs—his partner replied. —And I know you missed that as much as normalcy.

 

               Adam laughed at that and merely shook his head in resignation as he pulled Konrad closer by the neck. His lips pressed firmly against Gronczewski's, stifling the gangster's laughter as well.

 

               —You’re impossible—Adam breathed, his hot breath mingling with Konrad’s, as their lips briefly parted.

 

               —No—Gronczewski murmured very quietly. —I'm just yours.

 

               And without waiting for Aleksandrowicz’s reaction, he picked up the forgotten sponge from the edge of the tub. Lathering it anew, he turned away from the policeman, once again taking his previous place between his legs. He began to lazily wash the other man's calves that were entwined around him, and in the next moment, he felt lips on his shoulders again.

 

               —And vice versa—Adam whispered, between one kiss and the next.

__

*The title of the story is inspired by Chris Rea's song "Driving Home for Christmas" / The cover of the story and illustration are inspired by Orsob's works (on x.com), and the author has given her consent for this.