Ostatnie święta Bożego Narodzenia*

This story is intended for mature audiences (18+).
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edited by Patrycja Siedlecka

               Deprived of one of his senses, Konrad tried to explore the world around him with those he still had. He could distinctly hear the snow crunching under his boots, the sound of which was the only one disturbing the surrounding silence. He felt the frost nipping at his cheeks. He could even perceive that specific scent characteristic of winter days, when the air seemed so crystal clear that it tasted almost tart in his mouth. But he couldn't see anything. His eyes were covered by a wide, red ribbon that let no light through. He, too, true to his promise, didn't try to peek. He didn't even try to wrinkle his nose to make the fabric slip a little and give him a chance to check where his boyfriend was leading him.
               Adam Aleksandrowicz, a seemingly well-behaved officer of the law, shamelessly used a trick and tied a blindfold over his eyes as soon as they woke up early in the morning. And so Konrad Gronczewski, self-proclaimed prince of the Wrocław underworld and former commando of the elite Foreign Legion regiment, didn't know exactly what was happening to him for several hours. He had no idea where they had arrived. He couldn't even tell the time of day.
               The gangster quickly stopped estimating the time that had passed since they left the apartment. He knew, however, that they had driven for a long time and must have been stuck in traffic, but that could happen on any Polish road. What led him to deduce their direction of travel was the fact that they stopped at toll booths for the motorway. Even if, due to Wham's "Last Christmas" blasting at full volume, Konrad couldn't hear which section Aleksandrowicz paid for, he still knew that the state only collected tolls in that part of Poland for the route between Wrocław and Kraków. Thanks to this, Gronczewski deduced that they must have been heading towards the capital of Małopolska. "Or maybe we've gone much further," he thought, when he suddenly took another step, and his leg sank knee-deep into a snowdrift.
Konrad staggered and almost fell completely into the snow, if not for Adam's quick reaction, catching him by the waist and stabilizing both of them.
               "Do I really still have to be blindfolded?" Gronczewski grumbled, blindly reaching for Adam's hand and asking, "Aren't you tired of this game yet?"
               However, instead of offering his hand, the policeman only tightened his arms around Konrad's waist and moved closer. Konrad felt the terrible cold surrounding them immediately ease a little as Aleksandrowicz pressed against his back as much as his down jacket allowed.
               "And isn't it you who always says," he began in a whisper, and placing his chin on the gangster's shoulder, he reached his ear to add even more quietly, "that there's no such thing as enough fun?"
               "Apparently, I was wrong about that," Konrad replied, uncomfortably.
               Aleksandrowicz laughed heartily, and before moving away completely, he left a quick kiss on Gronczewski's cheek.
               "Just a moment longer, and you'll finally be able to see where I've taken you," he added eagerly, this time taking Konrad by the arm to safely guide him through the snowy path.
               Gronczewski didn't have the heart to oppose his boyfriend, especially since they were clearly on the home stretch of his plan. In fact, he never had the heart to protest against any of Aleksandrowicz's ideas, but he never intended to admit it out loud. Besides, that was precisely why this end of the year was going to be completely different for him than the previous ones, which he spent summarizing business results, because Adam, having learned from the failure of the last holidays, had informed him a good month in advance that he was taking time off around Christmas and taking Konrad on a multi-day trip. The destination remained a secret.
               He — even if he had been planning sweet revenge all the way today — thought it was a pretty good idea. The prospect of spending time alone with Aleksandrowicz seemed like the best gift, even if he was pulled out of bed too early for a free morning. He also didn't complain about getting out of Wrocław, because wherever they were, they were free from all those people who had recently prevented them from being alone even for a few minutes. Gronczewski couldn't even remember the last time they managed a quickie in the morning. "A tragedy," he thought, and Aleksandrowicz said at the same moment:
               "Watch your step."
               Konrad felt the elevation and, guided by the policeman, easily climbed the three stairs. A moment later, he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock and the quiet creak of the door. He felt a warmer draft of air coming from inside, into which they both entered.
               "Just a few more steps," Adam whispered, leading him by the hand, before finally stopping and standing behind him.
               Aleksandrowicz touched Gronczewski's neck with cold fingers, finally untying the knot he had tied that morning. The red ribbon fell onto Konrad's shoulders and rested there as he could finally see the view before him.
               They were in something that resembled an igloo, but instead of ice, it was built from oak planks and glass. It was thanks to the fact that at least one third of the circular wall was occupied by a massive window made of glass hexagons that the last rays of the setting sun over the Tatra Mountains streamed inside. Fading into the low-hanging, solitary clouds, it painted the mountain peaks in shades of pink and purple. It spread crimson across the sky. It dispersed among the vapors of the slowly settling frost-dense fog, which would soon turn into rime.
               "Where are we?" Gronczewski asked, absorbing the winter scene.
               "On the Slovak side of the Tatras, in Jaworzyna Tatrzańska," Adam explained, pleased with himself. "Do you like it?"
               "Do I like it?" the gangster countered, slowly turning to his boyfriend and listing, "We're away from civilization, buried in snow, surrounded by silence and peace..."
               "And Elka, Anton, Antek, and Francesca aren't here?" Aleksandrowicz guessed.
               Konrad nodded but said nothing more, curiously looking around the room. The whole place seemed incredibly cozy. The igloo was decorated in a typical highlander style, but it didn't lack an elegant touch. Opposite the window was a massive bed covered with furry blankets. A wood-burning stove stood against one wall, radiating pleasant warmth, and sheepskins were spread beneath it. Opposite, on the other side of the room, a large oak table with chairs was placed, and through an open door leading to another room, Gronczewski saw a modernly furnished bathroom with a magnificent bathtub.
               "Not bad," the gangster muttered to himself, suddenly smiling.
               "What's 'not bad'?" Aleksandrowicz asked, intrigued.
               "This room is small, and I see at least ten different places where I can enjoy," he paused meaningfully, and smiling fully, he finished, "your presence."
               Adam snorted with laughter and shook his head in disbelief.
               "You're worse than Antek," he admitted.
               "If only I had his stamina," Gronczewski said almost nostalgically, "then we would try each of those places at least five times."
               "Well..." Aleksandrowicz whispered and moved closer to Konrad. Suggestively raising an eyebrow, he proposed, "We can check out the bathtub right after we get back from Christmas Eve dinner."
               A smile was already forming on Gronczewski's lips, but when the gangster heard the last word, he abruptly pulled away from the other man.
               "Hold on, hold on," he said, as if shaking off some spell. "What Christmas Eve?"
               "A normal one," the policeman admitted, shrugging. "It starts in less than half an hour in the main building. And then, instead of caroling, there are trust-building activities for couples. I mean, you can sing too, but I thought maybe body art would be good for us..." Adam wanted to add.
               Konrad, however, interrupted him, suddenly asking suspiciously:
               "Did someone recommend this place to you?"
               Aleksandrowicz grimaced and cautiously took a few steps back.
               "Sort of," he confessed quietly.
               "Adam," the gangster urged in a warning tone.
               "Helios mentioned recently that he and Olek came here once to work on their intimacy," the policeman finally blurted out in one breath, looking at Konrad uncertainly. "Apparently, they came back transformed."
               "Okay," Gronczewski said slowly, raising his fingers one by one as he began to list. "You woke me up at six in the morning, dragged me out of a pleasantly warm bed, and not even with a single kiss, to drive me blindly halfway across Poland and..."
               "But at least it's beautiful and peaceful here, isn't it?" Aleksandrowicz interjected, suggesting.
               "What worries me more is that you want to work on a problem that we clearly don't have," Konrad remarked, now genuinely irritated. With a nervous gesture, he took off his jacket and threw it on the table, adding, "And what else? Will making adult toys for the Christmas tree together help us solve it?"
               "Konrad," the policeman whispered with unusual tenderness. "Do we really not have problems?"
               "Not with that," Gronczewski replied firmly.
               He turned his head towards the window and for a moment gazed at the sun dying behind the mountains. Only a thin line outlined the peaks in red, glowing in the firmament. Slowly fading, it made the boundary between earth and sky completely disappear, and another winter night gave the illusion that they had found themselves somewhere in between. In suspension. In a place that wasn't governed by such strict rules as those that prevailed in the world during the day. In a place where there was suddenly room for complete honesty. Not the one expressed in words, but one that could only exist through the closeness of bodies.
               "Alright," Gronczewski agreed suddenly, and turning to Adam, he added decisively, "Let's work on that intimacy, but my way."
               As if to prove his words, he grabbed the sash that still encircled his neck and quickly pulled it off. The material sliding over his skin suddenly warmed it. Or perhaps this sudden heat he felt deep in his body was the effect of Adam's gaze? His man watched him slightly concerned as Konrad wrapped the ends of the ribbon around his hands, finally pulling them firmly, while stepping closer to him.
               "What do you want to do?" the policeman asked uncertainly.
               "First, tell me, do you really want to go to this Christmas Eve dinner?" Gronczewski parried.
               "It's not about Christmas Eve itself," Aleksandrowicz explained calmly. "I just want us to do something together that we've never tried before."
               Konrad suddenly smiled at this and took two more steps towards Adam. They were now so close that they almost breathed each other's breath. Gronczewski only had to cover those few centimeters and he could kiss his boyfriend. The policeman, in fact, was waiting for it. He twitched and moved the missing millimeters closer, pushing his chin out slightly. He brushed the gangster's lips with his chapped lips, inviting him. Enticing him. Shamelessly tempting him.
               Gronczewski knew what Adam was planning. He wanted to convince him of his idea with endearments. To give Konrad a taste of what he had desired for so many days, and then suddenly take it away to set a condition. And normally, the gangster would have gone for it without hesitation, because he loved to prolong their pleasure in every possible way, but this time he had waited for their moment of closeness too long. So he took advantage of Adam's momentary inattention and pressed both hands, still entangled in the sash, against the man's chest to push him gently back. The edge of the bed tripped Aleksandrowicz, and he fell onto it, getting tangled in the softness of the furry blankets.
               Konrad took advantage of Aleksandrowicz's disorientation and attacked him immediately, giving him no time to counter. He leaned over the policeman and, sliding between his spread thighs, took control of his body. With a nimble, uniquely familiar movement, he grabbed Adam's hands. Raising them above the man's head, he skillfully tied his wrists with the sash and secured them to the bed frame. Finally, he straightened up to admire his handiwork with a smile.
               "And this is what creating a living masterpiece looks like," he added.
               Adam looked at him from under furrowed brows, trying to pretend to be angry, but his true feelings were betrayed by a sudden blush. It spread not only on his cheeks, but also on his neck, chest, and everywhere Konrad's cold fingers now touched him as he slowly unbuttoned his denim shirt. The snaps clicked shamelessly loud in the quiet room filled only by Aleksandrowicz's accelerated breathing.
               "You know the rules," Gronczewski whispered, tilting his head to get a better look at the results of his actions, adding, "If you say you don't want this, I'll stop, and we'll go to your Christmas Eve dinner."
               "I don't want to," Adam whispered at the edge of silence, provocatively staring at the gangster.
               "Excuse me?" Konrad asked firmly. "What exactly don't you want?"
               "Lean closer, and I'll tell you," the policeman murmured.
               Gronczewski sighed heavily but immediately complied with his request. He pressed against Aleksandrowicz's body, leaning low. He supported himself with his hands on the mattress, placing them on either side of the other man's head, when he rubbed his rough cheek against the policeman's smooth skin for encouragement.
               "What don't you want?" he asked again in a whisper directly into Adam's ear.
               "I don't want to go to Christmas Eve dinner," his boyfriend confessed quietly.
               Konrad smiled broadly, lifting slightly, and Aleksandrowicz must have been waiting for that, because he lunged upwards, trying to capture the gangster's lips with his own. But Gronczewski was faster again and pulled back at the last moment, straightening up.
               "Oh no," he said with a brazen, triumphant smile. "I waited several hours for you to let me see again, so now you'll wait for you to be able to touch me."
               "You planned this since morning, didn't you?" Adam mumbled, crestfallen.
               He tugged at his hands, hopefully looking at the knot, even though he knew perfectly well that an expert had tied it.
               "I just thought of it now," Konrad explained. "When you mentioned you wanted to do something we hadn't done before."
               "Right," the policeman snorted.
               However, he quickly fell silent as Gronczewski spread his thighs even wider, then knelt more comfortably between them. Still keeping a watchful eye on the other man's face, the gangster reached behind him and blindly found the zippers on Adam's boots. Opening them simultaneously, he slid his fingers inside to deftly remove them.
               "One problem off my mind," he whispered contentedly.
               "Aren't you going to undress?" Adam asked hopefully, looking at Konrad with eyes darkened by desire.
               "Me?" Gronczewski asked, surprised. "But you're my living canvas, which I need to prepare very thoroughly."
               In sync with his words, the gangster ran his hands along the policeman's legs. From ankles, through knees and thighs, to hips, he brushed his fingers against Aleksandrowicz's body through the material of his jeans. Perhaps that's why any response died on the other man's lips. Instead, Adam pressed against Gronczewski's hands, sighing with pleasure when he finally reached his zipper.
               "Do you still want this?" he asked again, more out of spite than a desire for certainty.
               "Go to Christmas Eve dinner?" Aleksandrowicz inquired, raising an eyebrow.
               A smile played on his lips as he grasped the part of the sash tied to the bed frame and used it for support to sit up, still pressing against the gangster's hands.Jego biodra wybiły się ku górze i w płynnym, kuszącym ruchu opadły z powrotem, zachęcając Gronczewskiego.
               Konrad przygryzł wargę, żeby nie dać się skusić temu wijącemu się pod nim ciału. Nie powtrzymał się jednak przed tym, aby nie szarpnąć za guziki dżinsów Adama, uwalniając w końcu jego gotowe ciało.
               Aleksandrowicz nie nosił bielizny, więc kiedy poczuł na swojej rozgrzanej, nagiej skórze dotyk chłodnych opuszków, nie powstrzymał głośnego westchnienia ulgi. Jego biodra znów wybiły się ku górze, tym razem szukając jeszcze więcej kontaktu i niemo błagając o więcej. Tyle że Konrad na razie nie chciał dać mu nic poza delikatność. Muskając więc na granicy dotyku otwartą dłonią męskość Adama, chciał go tylko rozdrażnić, zanim nie wsunął palców za pasek spodni policjanta. Szarpiąc za nie mocno, zsunął je z nagich pośladków mężczyzny, wyswobadzając również i jego nogi.
               – A skarpetki? – zauważył Aleksandrowicz.
               – Teraz jesteś niecierpliwy, tak? – mruknął gangster, ale chwycił kostki Adama.
               Podnosząc się, ułożył na swoim brzuchu jego stopy i nie spuszczając wzroku z twarzy policjanta, wolno zsunął z nich upstrzony w świąteczne wzory materiał. Gdy rzucił skarpetki za siebie, pozwolił Aleksandrowiczowi opuścić również nogi. Policjant jednak zsunął je z Konrada nieśpiesznie, dając im opaść na boki. Przyglądał się przy tym Gronczewskiemu spod półprzymkniętych powiek, uśmiechając lekko, tak jakby to on wygrał tę ich małą potyczkę.
               I może rzeczywiście tak się stało, bo Adam wyglądał teraz skandalicznie pięknie. Nagi, zanurzony w futrach, drżący od hamowanego pragnienia i tak bardzo gotowy. Jego kruczoczarne włosy ścieliły się na białej poduszce w nieładzie, poprzyklejane do skroni od potu. Ten pokrywał też swoim woalem każdy napięty mięsień mężczyzny, sprawiając, że jego ogorzała skóra w półmroku wydawała się tak delikatna jak atłas. Atłas zlany rumieńcem, który pogłębiał się z każdą upływającą minutą tego, jak Konrad po prostu przyglądał się policjantowi. Patrzył, jak ten uparty człowiek jest mu teraz całkiem oddany. Związany i uległy.
               – Gdybyś tylko mógł się teraz widzieć – szepnął Gronczewski głosem aż ciężkim od pożądania.
               Sięgnął jeszcze ku twarzy Adama, aby zagarnąć ją w dłoń. Kciukiem delikatnie podrażnił mu dolną wargę. Pozwalając mężczyźnie pochwycić swój palec w usta i przygryźć lekko, gangster powiedział tylko cicho, z namaszczeniem:
               – Poddany i tylko mój.
               – I co ze mną zrobisz? – szepnął Adam drżąco.
               Konrad przechylił głowę, przyglądając się drodze, jaką teraz pokonywała his hand. Tylko opuszkami palców obrysował linię szczęki policjanta i powiódł nimi dalej, przez jego pierś i napięte mięśnie brzucha, gdy mężczyzna znów wsparł się na szarfie i wyszedł mu naprzeciw, wyginając się w łuk.
               – Coś na pewno wymyślę – mruknął w końcu, zabierając rękę.
               Adam opadł z powrotem na łóżko z pomrukiem niezadowolenia. Gangster jednak nie zamierzał dać mu długo czekać, bo znów ułożył dłonie na wewnętrznej stronie ud Aleksandrowicza. Napierając na nie, zmusił mężczyznę, aby jeszcze trochę je rozsunął i pozwolił mu wejść pomiędzy nie głębiej. Adam wybił się na to nowe doznanie do góry, w kolistych ruchach bioder szukając bliskości, więc Konrad pośpieszył, aby spełnić i tę niemą prośbę. Powiódł dłonie dalej przez biodra i aż do pasa policjanta. Jego palce okalały wąską talię drugiego mężczyzny, zaciskając się na niej mocno, na granicy bólu i przyjemności, aby za chwilę w jednym stanowczym ruchu przysunąć Aleksandrowicza do siebie.
               Policjant nie powstrzymał głośnego syknięcia zaskoczenia, gdy niespodziewanie Gronczewski zsunął palce na jego pośladki i gniotąc ich mięśnie, uniósł go jeszcze wyżej, jednocześnie pochylając się, aby nagle wziąć gotowe ciało Aleksandrowicza głęboko w gorące wnętrze swoich ust.
               – O Chryste – jęknął gardłowo Adam, zalany falą raptownej przyjemności.
               Szarpnął ręce w potrzebie dotknięcia Konrada, ale wstęga skutecznie go przyblokowała, więc mógł tylko wybić się biodrami wyżej, wchodząc we wnętrze gangstera jeszcze mocniej. A Gronczewski mu na to pozwolił. Zwolnił swój stalowy uścisk, w którym do tej pory trzymał pośladki policjanta, i ponownie ułożył dłonie w pasie. Długie palce gangstera znów otoczyły talię drugiego mężczyzny, uspakajając jego do tej pory chaotyczny rytm, w jakim zdobywał usta Konrada.
               – Chcę cię… – zaczął nieskładnie Aleksandrowicz, wypowiadając słowa z kolejnym, ciężkim westchnieniem. – Chcę… dotknąć – syknął jeszcze lekko sfrustrowany i znów się szarpnął.
               Gronczewski jednak tylko się na to uśmiechnął pomiędzy jednym rucham bioder Adama a drugim i sam pogłębił pieszczotę, opadając na drugiego mężczyznę z pomrukiem przyjemności. Czuł, że policjant jest już na granicy. Cały drżał w jego ustach, ciało trzęsło się niekontrolowanie. Ruchy stawały się desperackie. Szybkie. Kompletnie nie do opanowania. Tak samo jak słowa, które Aleksandrowicz teraz powtarzał, prosząc go o więcej bez wstydu i zahamowań. A Konrad mu to dał. Pochylił się nad nim głębiej, biorąc jego ciało w swoje ciasne usta ostatni raz, zanim nie poczuł, jak ich wnętrze zalewa cierpkie ciepło.
               Adam doszedł z jego imieniem na ustach, które rozbrzmiało bezwstydnie głośno w wilgotnej ciszy pomieszczenia, i w końcu opadł na futra kompletnie bez siły. Bez słowa dał się zagarnąć gangsterowi, gdy ten ułożył się na nim i kładąc głowę na nadal unoszącym się w szybkich oddechach brzuchu policjanta, oplótł go ciasno ramionami w pasie.
               Minął dobry kwadrans, kiedy tak leżeli, milcząc. Dokoła nich zapadła niemal kompletna ciemność, gdyby nie liczyć blasku płomieni dochodzącego z rozgrzewającej pomieszczenie kozy. Trzask polan i zapach suchego, palącego się drewna sprawiał, że Gronczewski zaczynał powoli odpływać. Nie przeszkadzało mu nawet to, że musiał zignorować swoją własną potrzebę spełnienia, ale Adam, który nigdy nie chciał pozostawać mu dłużny, powiedział cicho:
               – Rozwiąż mnie.
               Gronczewski na te słowa uniósł się lekko, szukając wzroku drugiego mężczyzny, gdy zapytał przejęty:
               – Jest ci niewygodnie?
               – Nie – wyznał Aleksandrowicz. – Chcę cię w końcu dotknąć.
               Konrad uśmiechnął się na to szeroko i całkiem podniósł się na wyciągniętych ramionach, wyjaśniając:
               – Chciałbym jeszcze trochę wykorzystać to, że jesteś na mojej łasce.
               Policjant westchnął ciężko, udając niepocieszonego, lecz i tym razem nagły rumieniec, który rozlał się na jego policzkach, zdradzał, że i ten pomysł mu się podoba.
               – Muszę powiedzieć Elce, żeby już nigdy nie dawała nam prezentów – zamarudził jednak jeszcze dla zasady.
               – Chcesz mi powiedzieć, że to ta wstęga, którą podarowała nam w zeszłym roku? – zagadnął szczerze zdziwiony gangster.
               Adam tylko znacząco uniósł brew w ramach odpowiedzi, na co Gronczewski parsknął krótkim śmiechem.
               – W takim razie chyba muszę jej na poważnie podziękować, bo znów podarowała mi coś, co jest dla mnie najcenniejsze – stwierdził tylko.
               – Co takiego? – zapytał zaciekawiony Aleksandrowicz.
               – Ciebie – odparł po prostu Konrad.
               W końcu opadł na Adama i zamknął jego usta w głębokim pocałunku. Pierwszym, ale zdecydowanie nie ostatnim tych świąt.

THE END

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*the title of the story is inspired by the song "Last Christmas" by Wham / The story cover and illustration are inspired by the works of Orsob (on x.com) and the author has given her consent.