"But what is it then?" asks Jonathan, confused, and I grin, biting my lower lip and enjoying the tension, the questioning looks on me and the comforting tingle in the pit of my stomach.
"It doesn't matter. The main thing is that you put it on my finger," Magnus replies.
"Which one is for me?" he asks excitedly and Charlie's dainty hand reaches for the box, examines the shiny jewels on black velvet and reaches purposefully for the hidden rainbow.
"Here. See, a rainbow inside and there's Uncle Alec's name. Do you actually know that his name isn't Alec at all?" she says, looking at Magnus waitingly. Magnus nods and can hardly take his eyes off the ring.
"Yes, I know that. I call him Alexander. And you Uncle Alec. So we each have our own part of him," Magnus replies in a tear-stained voice.

"I think that's nice. It's better than Bunny or Sugar Snout." Charlie screws up her face in disgust and everyone present chuckles at her words. I wonder where she heard that. None of us talk to our partners like that.
"Where did you hear that?", I ask, watching my bright goddaughter rise elegantly from Magnu's lap, stand in front of the Christmas tree and begin to tell a story. Her imagination is unique. Already at an early age she was bored with the usual age-typical stories about princesses and ponies, a king's son fighting the dragon who was hiding the princess in a tower. And stories with animals and fairy tales from all over the world were not interesting either. Once read and already saved. She rarely reads books twice, there is a gigantic bookshelf in her room and when I look at the pile of books lying in front of us, there was plenty of supply. And Jace's parents also support their granddaughter's passion for fantasy novels about teenagers as shining heroes. It doesn't matter whether the boy fights water demons, cyclops or evil powerful wizards. The main thing is that the hero is preferably male and all will be well in the end.

"My literature teacher forced us to read a book that was actually not bad. A lot of potential, but not fully exploited. Some plots were illogical. And the hero's sister's boyfriend kept calling her Bunny. She had buck teeth and I found that so offensive. It really made me angry. One time he called her sugar mama and I almost threw up when I read it. Sweetie pie. Can you get any more clichéd than that? Why doesn't he just call her Annabelle? After all, that's her name. I don't know what the author was thinking. I think I'll write him a letter and ask."
This is so typical of my godchild. Every line she reads is analysed, unknown words have to be explained and discussed. As often as we could, Charlie stayed over at my place during the last years. We ate pizza, watched a film and before falling asleep a good story was simply part of it. Just like the little night light with the starry sky.

"Wow. Do I know that book? I don't think so," says Magnus. Charlie does a piruette, the silky fabric glistening in the soft light of the Christmas lights, and her laugh sounds so warm and innocent.
"Clary and I read a lot of books aloud," I say.
"Oh yes. A lot," she confirms, rolling her eyes and sighing. Clary worried a lot that the books that enthralled Charlie were not age-appropriate and perhaps traumatising. I always dismissed this silently, buying new fantasy novels and Charlie hanging on my lips, soaking up every letter like a sponge.
"Charlie is very advanced for her age. The children's stories bore her. We make sure the texts are not too gory. But there has to be suspense. She loves it and I still like to read to her before bed."
"That's really great. I'm sure you'll make a good dad one day," Magnus says quietly. I don't answer because I'm having a hard time confessing to him right now that I can already see us walking through the streets of the city with a bunch of kids and Magnus happily pushing a squeaky pink pram, beaming with joy. On our date, Magnus said he didn't want children. I, however, always thought the idea of having my own children was great. A surrogate mother, my genes and the man of my dreams by my side on this adventure.

Tenderly, Magnu's fingertips glide over my forearm and a comforting shiver coats my skin. I inhale noisily, see slender fingers enclosed in honey-coloured skin and a silver hoop in its intended place. Magnus smiles and gently strokes the ring finger on my right hand. The rainbow matches the contours of my body and before I can say anything I hear Magnus and the joyous laughter of my family.
"And if they didn't die, they're still alive today," Magnus says, breathing a feather-light kiss on the ring and looking deep into my eyes. I swallow hard, the whole thing feeling so much like eternity and a promise that I blink, gasping for breath, unable to stop the telltale tears.
"You guys are so cheesy," Jonathan's voice rings out, followed by a choking sound and soft giggles. Shaking my head, I look at Magnus, his sparkling eyes with a meaningful look for more, the narrow nose, pink adorable lips and the tip of his sinful tongue slowly pushing through the narrow slit, making my blood boil.

I have images in my head, for a long time and since our first time they are clear and distinct. Magnus' tongue lasciviously gliding over heated flesh, gentle kisses, exploring lips on every inch of my skin. Cool metal on Magnu's quivering body and drops of lust on my tongue and deep inside him.
"Thank you," Magnus breathes close to my lips. A kiss so gentle and pure, takes me out of the whirlpool of my erotic fantasies. Forgotten are the people of my heart around us, forgotten are the aching thoughts of my childhood friend. For Magnus alone is what counts and his lips on mine. Caressing, tender, no trace of urgency and the struggle for dominance. And yet the caress ignites a fire in me, exciting tingles run through the nerve endings, the desire to grab Magnus and bring him quickly into my bedroom.

"I am very happy about your gifts. Thank you Alexander. Thank you so much." All too quickly Magnus releases our kiss, whispering his words of thanks, and I try to dispel the incipient fog which was trying to take possession of my mind.
"I am relieved. I really am. I wasn't sure how you'd react to the ring," I say honestly, seeing understanding in his gaze.
"It's beautiful," Magnus whispers, looking dreamily at our hands, fixing the shiny hoop on his caramel skin.
"Don't worry Magnus. I'm not going to propose and make you marry me. We have time. But this, the ring, is you. I will accompany you on your way, no matter what you decide. No one can force you to come out. You have a family here that accepts you for who you are. Here you can be who you always wanted to be. That's all and every day there are challenges waiting for you. For us. But I hope that together we can achieve what other people are denied. Life. Together," I finish my little speech, which comes unexpectedly easily to my lips. There are many little hidden messages behind my words and I am sure that Magnus will understand. Our start was anything but normal. Moments full of coincidences and divine providence. We could have met much sooner, but I have never been one to live in the past. Our encounter in Central Park, the kiss under the mistletoe and Magnu's little trick of asking me out on a date was the beginning of our story. I hope and pray that the pages will be filled with more chapters. Beautiful moments, as well as sad ones. Because one thing life and time has taught me. It doesn't matter how much money is in the bank account at the end of the year. It doesn't matter if the house has a pool or the flat has a balcony. What matters are the people with whom you share moments of joy, suffering, bliss and pain. Magnus is the person with whom I want to fill the pages in the book of my life.

☃️🎄🎁

The evening couldn't end fast enough. I wanted to be alone with Magnus, talk about a few things and enjoy the togetherness with my friend. Charlie had a crush on Magnus. She told him stories about her favourite trilogy, asked Magnus to read a chapter from one of the new books and as if that wasn't tiring enough, she danced with Izzy, Clary and Magnus to the tune of Frank Sinatra. The soulful voice of Sinatra enveloped my favourite people and made them believe every word that came out of his mouth. I smiled as the first bars of 'Mistletoe and Holly' rang out, looked to Magnus and waited for the lines of the chorus and his reaction. Briefly he faltered, but Magnus looked as fondly at me as I did at him. Mistletoe, a snowy winter landscape and love.
"Merry Christmas," I formed tonelessly and Magnus returned my words with a bright smile and twinkling eyes.

I helped Raphael clean up the traces of his delicious meal, listened to Jonathan talk about the painful separation of his children and how much he missed them. He didn't mention his wife and I didn't have enough alcohol in the house for such a conversation. After what felt like an eternity, my family left our little party and I was finally alone with the man of my heart. But Magnus said he was very tired. He turned off the record player, placed the presents neatly under the decorated tree and went up the stairs with swinging hips. A glance over his shoulder was enough and I followed without hesitation. The fire in his emerald eyes was kindled and Magnus simply locked me out.

He locked the door to my bathroom and I heard the muffled sound of the shower and stared at the wooden surface for minutes. What had happened? One moment Magnus was too tired to let the evening end with a glass on the sofa and the next, he was making me so ratty with just one look at him. Only to slam the door in my face without comment. Had I misread the signs? Was it tiredness and no desire? Why wasn't Magnus talking to me? Silently and without saying a word, he went about his business. I tried to get a conversation going, asked questions about the rest of the evening, but Magnus remained silent. Why? A thousand questions simultaneously pushed themselves to the surface and flooded my mind. I found it hard to calm down, not understanding what was happening, why Magnus was so dismissive. So I began to busy my hands, covering the bed with new linen, even though I had just done this in the morning. But my hands and the circling thoughts needed something to do. The dishes were already in the dishwasher, the laundry was done and Magnus was blocking my shower. The walk downstairs was difficult, I struggled with leaving the bedroom and finding a sleeping Magnus on my return. It was also clearly too late to vacuum and I could do without the wrath of the neighbours, wild banging on the wall and, in the worst case, noisy policemen.

I stood brooding in front of the large window and looked out over the snow-covered park. A lantern lit up the night, strings of lights hung in the knee-high bushes as if by the ghostly hand of a day, and together they exuded a beautiful atmosphere. But the sight also made me sentimental. Shadows flitted through the darkness, the snowman stood tall and proud in his place, snowflakes blurred the tracks of fluttering birds and shrieking children. I let the last hours run like a film before my inner eye, tried to fathom what had happened. But I found nothing, not even the slightest hint of Magnu's dismissive nature. Deeply immersed in my thoughts, I did not notice that the lock of the bathroom door opened and Magnus entered my bedroom stark naked. He nestled against my back, slipped his hands under my shirt and I sighed as his fingertips touched my skin. Magnu's lips caressed the sensitive skin on my neck and I clenched my teeth in arousal. As quickly as his sudden appearance, his hands left my skin and he undid the buttons of my shirt. I saw us both in the reflection of the window, looked into the dark eyes of my handsome boyfriend and had only one thought. 'I want him.'

After our first night, Magnu's tears, his shattered dreams and my honest words, I vowed not to sleep with him. I'm not the guy for cuddle sex and hours of rubbing our cocks together. Magnus is far too important to me to jeopardise that happiness with my unbridled urges. I want him to feel good when we make love, to feel no pain, only pure pleasure. However, I didn't think he was ready yet. Until this moment, when Magnus pushed the fabric off my shoulders and immediately opened my trousers and slipped them off my body along with my shorts. I breathed heavily, clenched my hands into fists. The nails dug into my skin, leaving a soothing pain and crescent-shaped marks. It distracted me from the desire to just grab Magnus, to engage his lips and sinful tongue in a hot kiss that would make me forget the world around us.

To take this desirable wonderful man with the strength of my heart and the greed in my veins onto the bed and to unimagined heights. In my mind, I had already sunk my penis deep into Magnu's ass, listening to the sounds of our pleasure and receiving my lover's body. The teasing of my nipples combined with the nibbling of his teeth and apologising tongue, every inch from my shoulders, down my neck, up to the base of my hair, sent goosebumps over my quivering body. I trembled with arousal, wanting nothing more than Magnu's hand around my throbbing penis. Magnus' lips caressed my neck, his hands explored my upper body and I felt the hardness of his arousal against my ass. Not only had it been three years since my last sex in front of Magnus, but my experience as a bottom had been a while behind me.

"Magnus," I moaned as his fingertips slid gossamer softly over my chest and stomach. I closed my eyes, giving myself fully to the caresses and his lips on my body. Magnus drove me further and further to the edge of the roaring ocean. Slender fingers explored the pulsating flesh, I felt relieved. Magnus' restraint was gone, he was clearly showing what he desired and that was me.

"Thank you for a lovely Christmas Alexander." Magnu's breath tickled my ear and I encircled his waist with one arm and his neck with the other. My head tipped back, coming to rest on his shoulder and I hoped my legs would carry me. The feeling of dizzying lightness, the lava flow of pleasure in my veins, hot, pulsing, unstoppable. With the next wave, my body would disappear in the eternal whirlpool of ecstasy. Heat gathered in my loins, with each thrust of my hips into Magnu's hand I moaned loudly, clawing into Magnu's hair, his kisses on my neck making me weak. I wanted nothing more than sweet release, Magnu's hand quickening around my cock.

Suddenly everything was grey and dark, cold on my skin and the need to fall. Magnus left my body in one fluid movement, I just managed to avoid falling backwards. He supported my body and slammed the relentless truth right at my feet. I felt betrayed, used and somehow empty. Again came the questions that had been with me for some time.

"Go take a shower. I'm tired," Magnus said and gently stroked my spine. Everything in me was in turmoil, his touch tingled and I inhaled noisily. Magnus' hand stroked my bottom and I cursed silently. Without another word Magnus lay down in the bed. Confused, I looked at his figure, wrapped in fabric and breathing quietly. I said nothing, asked no question and walked on silent soles into my bathroom and straight into the shower. My penis begged for release and I let a gush of ice-cold water hit my heated womb. It helped and my head cleared. However, the same old questions did not disappear. My heart was racing, I didn't understand why Magnus had done this. After what seemed like an eternity, I got out of the shower, dried the beads of water on my skin and entered my bedroom with a fluffy towel around my hips.

Magnus was the partner in my fantasies from the first moment we met. I wanted so much to get to know him, every facet of his life, to know everything about him, the little secrets and the big ones too. Our first kiss tasted sweet and light, knowing I was tasting a drug I never got enough of. Magnus is the man of my dreams, I'm willing to wait, to match his pace and it's all because I love him.
"You are late Doctor Alexander. I hope it was okay that I started earlier," Magnus says, pushing the shiny silver plug into his ass and moaning like there's no tomorrow. His sparkling eyes take me captive, the caramel-coloured skin is already covered with a fine layer of lust and I think I know what his plan was for tonight.