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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

The doorbell rang as Harrison made his way to the front door with an eye toward escaping the excruciatingly dull party, so he answered the door. The eyes on the breathtakingly beautiful man standing there lit up when he saw Harrison.

He stepped inside, grinned, and reached for Harrison’s tie. He pulled Harrison close and said, “My name is Mason, and I no longer have any idea why I was dreading this fucking party.”

Mason pulled Harrison close and kissed him just above his right eyebrow. Maybe Harrison didn’t need to be in such a hurry to leave after all.

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Harrison rubbed his eyes as he stumbled blearily into the kitchen, then burst out laughing. “What on earth are you wearing?”

Mason looked up from the stove and grinned sheepishly. “It was in that box of stuff your grandma sent last week.”

“Yeah? I thought that was just some of her old cookbooks. So whatchya makin’?”

“That’s what you want to know?”

“Okay, what should I have asked?”

“How about ‘What are you wearing under that?’ or better yet…”

“Are you wearing anything under that?”

It was Mason’s turn to laugh. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Harrison sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath.

Mason sat up next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “Another bad dream?”

Harrison nodded. “And I’m not even the one who’s pregnant.” He couldn’t blame hormones, but with their surrogate ready to give birth any day, his anxiety level was spiking. “This time our son was drowning in an awful muddy pond.”

Mason pulled him in for a hug. “We’re going to be great parents.”

“I worry about the haters who’ll tease him for having two dads.”

“Me, too. So we’ll do more to help educate people.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

For the second night in a row Harrison sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath.

Mason groaned and turned to him. “Another muddy pond dream?”

Harrison shook his head. “This time it was a fucking chicken.”

“In a muddy pond?”

“No, you were riding a chicken.”

“I was? Cool. Was I shrunk down, or was the chicken monster-sized?”

“What? Hell, I don’t know. I think it was a big chicken.”

“Hen or rooster?”

“How would I know? Do I look like a farmer?”

“Well, it’s your nutty dream. Can you make it a rooster?”

“Fine. Go back to sleep.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Could be from either Harrison or Mason’s 3rd-person POV:

“Look, Jaxon,” Mason said. “This is another opening into Narnia, but just like Arthur had to pull out Uther’s sword to become King, you have to be able to open the zipper to enter Narnia.”

The two-year-old’s eyes widened. “Really, Pop?”

“Try it,” Mason replied.

Jaxon ran to the zipper’s slider and strained, trying to lift the concrete.

Harrison whispered, “Do you think it’s a good idea, putting such fantasies in his head?”

Mason quirked an eyebrow. “Says the guy who told him about Santa Claus, then added that the old elf drives a four-wheeler in places where it’s warm.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“Hey, Harrison. Do you suppose they’re taking that dinosaur to Jurassic World?” Mason asked.

Harrison did a double take at the uHaul trailer and rolled his eyes. Jaxon, the true target of Mason’s comment perked up in the backseat.

“There’s a dinosaur in there?” Jaxon’s narrowed eyes turned toward Harrison. “Daddy, is Pop making that up?”

Mason cast a glance at Harrison, silently imploring his husband to play along.

Harrison grimaced. “Uh, what do you think, Jaxon?”

“Well, we can pretend, anyway,” Jaxon replied. “So, do you think Owen caught it himself, Daddy?”

Harrison grinned. “I’ll bet he probably did.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Scritch, scritch, scritch. The muted and unsettling noise came from behind Harrison and sent a shiver down his spine. Mason leaned to the side to look around his husband.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Harrison said.

Mason grinned. “I have no idea what Jaxon is doing.”

Harrison turned around and saw a fork being manipulated underneath the door by a small set of fingers.

“What are you doing?” Harrison asked.

“I’m going to catch a mouse,” was Jaxon’s muffled reply.

Harrison would have asked why, but Mason spoke first.

“What are you going to do with it when you catch it?”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Jaxon’s 3rd-person POV:

“Look, Gramps,” Jaxon said, “you can see the scratch marks on that tree.”

“But what makes you think it’s one of those dinosaurs… albertowhatchacallits?”

“Albertadromeus. Pop said that’s what it might be. Don’t worry, though… they’re small plant-eaters.”

Gramps laughed. “Oh, I wasn’t worried. And I’m not surprised at your source.”

“Pop knows a lot about dinosaurs.”

“Yes, I remember when Mason was your age. He dug holes in my backyard every time his mom and dad brought him to visit. Said he was digging for fossils.”

“Yeah. Daddy says the scratches are probably from a dog, but that’s boring.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“Pop did it,” Jaxon declared. “Didn’t he?”

Harrison raised an eyebrow in Mason’s direction. “How’d you do this without leaving your own footprints in the sand around them?”

Mason opened his eyes wide and brought a hand up to his chest. “Moi? What makes you think I did it?”

The proud grin Mason wore belied the faux innocence of his words and actions.

“How tall do you think it is, Daddy? If Pop didn’t do it, it much be a giant, right?”

“Probably way up to the clouds!” Harrison crouched and scanned the horizon. “Where do you suppose it’s hiding?”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Harrison sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath.

Mason blinked open his eyes and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his husband’s thigh. “It’s been a while since you had one of your nightmares. You okay?”

“Not a nightmare.”

“No?”

“No. Dreamed about you, spread out on a red checkered picnic blanket, naked. You were luring me over with some grapes.”

Mason smirked. “I’m pretty darned insulted that your dream-self needed grapes to be lured over.”

Harrison winked and leaned over to kiss Mason. “Didn’t say they were needed, only that you thought they were.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“Daddy, how do you think it got up there?” Jaxon asked.

Harrison cocked his head to the side. “Maybe someone parked in the field and two trees grew up around it?”

Jaxon rolled his eyes. “Pop, what’s your idea?”

Mason grinned. “I think someone set up a catapult and launched the truck, and it landed right there in the trees.”

Jaxon nodded his approval. “Wanna know what I think?”

“Absolutely,” Harrison replied. “See if you can out-silly Pop.”

Jaxon’s smirk looked a lot like Mason’s. “Maybe the giant who left those footprints a couple weeks ago lifted it up there.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Mason placed a hand on Harrison’s head and eased the two of them a bit to the side in the shower stall so the hot water from the new rain-showerhead wouldn’t cascade directly over their faces. The recent plumbing upgrade had been Harrison’s Father’s Day gift to Mason.

When the kiss broke, Mason groaned and reached for his husband.

“Shhh.” Harrison’s shush was accompanied by a giggle. “Don’t wake Jaxon.”

“Don’t worry,” Mason whispered. “Just checked. He’s out cold.”

Harrison grinned and reached for the shower gel. He waggled his eyebrows and started soaping Mason’s chest.

Best gift idea ever.

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“Think we should follow it, Jaxon?” Mason asked. “I’ll bet they’re on their way to feed King Kong.”

Jaxon perked up in the backseat. “How did they get such a big banana?”

“Imagine how tall the tree must be,” Harrison said. He loved the way Mason stoked Jaxon’s imagination, but try as he might, he was no match for his husband in that department.

“No,” Mason said. “On second thought, I think it’s a normal sized tree.”

“Huh?” Jaxon said, mirroring Harrison’s thoughts.

“Something happened last night. Everything in the world shrunk except that banana.”

Jaxon laughed. “An evil wizard!”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“I miss Jaxon already.” Harrison’s voice was muffled by the book covering his face.

Mason squeezed his hand. “He’s having a great time with Gramps, though.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Mason’s arm shifted, drawing Harrison’s attention to the rainbow beaded bracelet Jaxon had made.

So you won’t forget me, Daddy, Jaxon had said with a mischievous glint in his eye. He was a chip off the old block. Mason block.

“I’m looking forward to his stories about what he’s getting up to this week,” Harrison said.

“Eh, he’ll be too distracted by your wacky tan lines to think of anything else.”

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Uses this image prompt:

Told from Mason’s 3rd-person POV:

“It’s beautiful!” Mason gushed. It was a beautiful gesture, even if the cake didn’t…quite look like the ones on Pinterest.

Jaxon bounced, and his ear-to-ear smile lit the room. “Daddy helped, but I did most of it.”

Harrison kissed Mason. “Happy Birthday.”

“We baked and baked all day,” Jaxon said. “It was so much fun. Maybe I’ll be a baker when I grow up.”

Mason leaned down and lifted Jaxon in his arms. His gaze landed on the colossal pile of dishes in the sink.

“I love you,” Mason whispered into Jaxon’s ear, but he smiled into his husband’s eyes.

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Uses the prompt word (juxtaposition) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 14 prompt words (acceptance – reception – occasion – deficiency – date – Mars – chauvinist – fountain – suppress – nightmare – rage – sweep – fashionable – exotic) from a random word generator.

Told from Harrison’s 1st-person POV:

“Do you ever wish someone would sweep you off to some exotic location?” asked Mason.

He glanced at me as he drove us home from his cousin Amelia’s wedding reception. It had been a miserable occasion for us both. A fucking nightmare to be brutally honest.

Neither of us cared much for her new husband, Chad. He was a proud and unrepentant chauvinist, worse than ever since he now felt validated by the one whose name I still couldn’t bring myself to say without spitting in anger and frustration, but who’d somehow managed to become our new president-elect.

Apparently, Chad’s former acceptance (or perhaps tolerance) of us had also gone by the wayside if the way he’d totally ignored us when we’d approached to offer the obligatory congratulations was anything to go by. It had taken every ounce of self-control I could muster to suppress the rage I’d felt.

The only thing I was glad about was that we’d left Jaxon home with a babysitter, so he hadn’t been exposed to the blatant bigotry we’d been subjected to by someone who was now a member of our family. Amelia wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but still, what was she thinking marrying someone like that?

“Earth to Harrison.” Mason’s hand waved in front of my face, bringing me out of my reverie.

“Sorry,” I replied. “It depends. Would that ‘someone’ be you?”

Mason laughed. “It better be!”

I forced a smile. Mason wasn’t letting our bad experience get him down, so I should try not to either. “So, how exotic were you thinking?”

“Heh, somewhere less exotic than Mars, where you’ve apparently been these past few minutes.” Mason peeked over at me and winked. “No, I was thinking about this at the reception ’cause…well…I needed to be thinking about anything but that prick Amelia married. Anyway, imagine if we won an all-expenses paid date—one day only to be whisked off to anywhere in the world—where would you want to go?”

Sometimes I felt like I had an imagination deficiency, but perhaps that was only when compared to Mason. He was so vibrant and fun and charming. I was more rooted in reality. I supposed we balanced each other. I knew we loved each other just the way we were. I sometimes wondered, though, what our son, Jaxon, thought of the juxtaposition.

“Hmm,” I muttered. “Perhaps we could visit the Magic Fountain of Montjuic in Barcelona. Not that it would do any good, but I’d love to toss in a coin and wish for a do-over for 2016.”

Mason snorted. “November, anyway.”

I sighed again. “Sorry. I’m such a downer tonight. No…how about this? We could jet over to Paris and be all chic and fashionable. We could attend a ballet performance at the Palais Garnier.”

“Now you’re talking,” exclaimed Mason. “I haven’t seen you in a tux since our wedding. You looked so amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mason reached across the console to hold my hand. “I love you, Harrison. We’re going to make it. No matter what we have to do, or where we have to go.”

And in that moment I knew he was right. As long as our little family was together we’d be fine. I gave his hand a squeeze. “I love you, too.”

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Uses the prompt words (persimmon – reverse) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 13 prompt words (interest – queue – plan – façade – nose – length – characteristic – spring – print – cultural – scramble – sand – column) from a random word generator.

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“I think we should put a column or two along this façade,” Mason said.

Jaxon looked up from the side of the sand castle where he was working. He squinted like he tended to do when he was thinking hard. Harrison figured he was working out what façade meant from the context of the sentence rather than deciding whether he agreed with Mason’s suggestion. His sunglasses slid down the length of his nose, and he absently pushed them back up.

Nodding solemnly, Jaxon said, “That’s a good plan, Pop.”

Jaxon crawled in reverse to where Mason sat and began to dig a little hole.

Harrison set down the bags of food he’d just picked up at the lunch shack up the beach and asked, “Are you making a moat?”

“No Daddy.” Jaxon rolled his eyes. “That would be boring. I’m going to hide The Hulk in the hole so he can spring out and surprise the invaders when they come.”

“Oh, of course.”

Mason looked up and winked. He wouldn’t have suggested a “boring” moat. Not unless he had some little toy alligators or sharks to put into it. Even that would probably be too ordinary for Mason and Jaxon. Maybe a Kraken action figure would’ve made a moat interesting enough. Creativity was a characteristic those two had in common.

Harrison looked out over the ocean as he spread a blanket for their picnic lunch. It felt weird being on a beach and building a sand castle in December. Weird for people used to Midwestern weather anyway. This Hawaiian vacation was a wonderful getaway, and Jaxon was having the time of his young life.

The queue at the lunch shack had been outrageous, but the food smelled fantastic. Jaxon cast a concerned glance at the food as it came out of the bag. He probably wasn’t quite ready to trust them yet after the tofu and veggie scramble they’d tried to foist on him at breakfast.

In contrast, Mason looked on with open interest. “What’ve you got there, hun?”

“Persimmon muffins, chicken katsu, and some chicken long rice.”

“Rice again?” Jaxon said. “I like it, but man, we have it every day here.”

“It’s a cultural thing,” Mason said. “Don’t worry, at least there’s no tofu involved.”

They joined Harrison on the blanket, and Mason leaned across to whisper, “Have I told you yet today how sexy you look in that Hawaiian print shirt?”

Harrison laughed. “I’m running out of fingers to count how many times.”

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Uses the prompt words (peanut – mermaid) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 13 prompt words (thaw – side – laughable – paint – forgetful – stare – zonked – five – furry – closed – farm – yawn – untidy) from a random word generator.

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“What is that?” Harrison asked, pointing toward the ocean. He actually knew what it was but wondered what his son would come up with.

Jaxon turned to look, then stood to stare at the spot where Harrison was pointing. “I think it’s a mermaid. What do you think, Pop?”

The little boy turned to Mason, lying on a towel with his eyes closed. “Aw, Pop’s zonked.”

Mason rolled to his side then sat up and stretched, unleashing a wide yawn. “I’m awake. Where’s this mermaid Daddy spotted?”

“There!” Jaxon aimed a finger over the water.

“I don’t see it.” Mason shaded his eyes and craned his neck.

Harrison coughed. “It’s…uh…whale-sized, so it’s hard to miss.”

Mason laughed. “I see it, now. Kinda big for a mermaid. Maybe it’s a Kraken.”

“Yeah!” Jaxon bounced. “That’s even better.”

“Hmm, not for the people on that boat over there,” Harrison said.

“Think it’ll eat them?” Jaxon asked.

“Speaking of food…” Mason patted his belly. “Is it time to crack open that picnic basket yet? What did you pack?”

It was laughable how easily Jaxon was distracted. The “kraken” forgotten, he knelt at the basket and opened it. “Five peanut butter sandwiches and a bunch of furry lychees.” He turned to Harrison. “Are those from that farmwe went to yesterday?”

“Orchard,” Harrison replied. “But yes, so they’re pretty fresh.”

“Did that jug of juice thaw?” Mason asked. He’d suggested they freeze it so it would keep the rest of their food chilled and still be cool to drink by the time they wanted it.

Jaxon hefted it up and swished it so they could see. There was still a frozen chunk in the middle, but plenty was drinkable. Rifling through the basket, Jaxon asked, “Where’s the cups?”

Harrison slapped a hand to his forehead. “Nuts, I’m so forgetful today.”

“No problem, hun,” Mason said. “We’ll just pass the container around.”

Just as well, as that would fit with their generally untidy and wrinkled appearance. It was their last day in Hawaii, and they’d misjudged how many outfits they’d go through. Harrison and Mason were both wearing shirts they’d had on the previous day so they’d have something clean to put on for the trip home tomorrow.

“Yeah! We can chug out of the jug,” Jaxon added.

Harrison laughed. “This has been a great vacation. I’m going to miss Hawaii.”

“It’s paradise,” Mason said. “What was your favorite part?”

“Volcanos!” Jaxon exclaimed.

“Beaches, beautiful blue water as far as the eye can see, fresh fruit, flip flops every day, palm trees, so many stars visible at night, snorkeling.” Harrison sighed happily. “I could go on and on.”

“You paint a pretty picture of it, that’s for sure.”

“How about you, Pop, what’s your favorite part?”

Mason grinned widely. “Everything you both said, of course, but I think seeing the huge smiles on your two faces was the best part for me.”

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Uses the prompt word (mistletoe) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 14 prompt words (trick – survivor – deck – robot – migration – define – fountain – essay – sugar – element – quality – cucumber – shallow – spontaneous) from a random word generator.

Told from Mason’s 3rd-person POV:

The Piano Guys awesome version of Carol of the Bells flowed through the house as Mason quietly closed the front door. Jaxon glanced up from where he sat, writing at the coffee table in the living room. Mason placed his index finger to his lips, silently imploring his son to keep his arrival home a secret from Harrison.

Mason knew darned well Harrison was awake even though he was stretched out in the recliner with a cucumber slice over each eye. Jaxon smiled his agreement, and Mason tiptoed to the kitchen.

He quickly rifled through the junk drawer and came up with a tack, then reached up to secure the mistletoe he’d purchased to the header of the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

“Are you going to trick Daddy?” Jaxon asked when Mason approached.

Harrison sat up, peeling the cucumber slices from his eyes. He grinned at Mason. “I wouldn’t be surprised. What are you up to now?”

“Moi? You’re imagining things, my lovely sugar plum. I’m not a planner. I’m Mr. Spontaneous.”

Harrison’s snort would’ve made a rhinoceros proud. “Depends how you define ‘spontaneous.’”

The holiday playlist switched over to some lame version of Deck the Halls, and Mason turned his attention to Jaxon. “Got another essay for homework today?”

Jaxon shook his head. “Nope. I’m writing a story, but Daddy wouldn’t let me use your new fountain pen.”

“That’s ’cause Daddy’s a wise man,” Mason replied. “What’s the story about?”

Jaxon’s eyes lit up. “I’m a survivor after aliens attack Earth. You and Daddy are, too, and I join a bunch of people to go get a really big robot that’s going to save the world, and a bunch of other people are walking and walking to go somewhere safe.”

“Cool!” Harrison said. “Are Pop and I part of the big migration or do we get to go on the hero adventure with you?”

“Well, you wanted us all to go to the safe place, but Pop and I convinced you that we needed to help fight the aliens.”

Mason grinned. “It’s a quality of life thing. No place would’ve been safe for long unless the aliens were defeated, right?”

“Right! I knew you’d understand, Pop.”

Harrison opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shut it and stood. Mason opened his arms and Harrison kissed him. “I love you,” Harrison said.

“I love you, too.” Mason loved Harrison with all his heart. And he knew Jaxon loved them equally even though the little boy and Mason were the ones who more often clicked when it came to creativity. Harrison wasn’t shallow and understood that, too.

When Mason turned to ask Jaxon another question, the little boy was no longer sitting at the coffee table. Harrison laughed, and Mason spun to follow his husband’s gaze. Jaxon was leaning against the door jamb under the mistletoe, apparently trying (but failing) to look casual.

So much for the element of surprise, a tactic Jaxon had yet to master. Harrison had probably known what Mason was up to, and this was more priceless than what he’d planned anyway.

They joined Jaxon under the mistletoe and each planted a kiss on the little boy’s cheek as he giggled. That’s what Christmas was all about…love and laughter.

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Uses the prompts (a snowman, a park bench, and an empty bottle) from P.T. Wyant’s Wednesday’s Words post.

Could be from either Harrison or Mason’s 3rd-person POV:

“He looks so sad,” Jaxon said. The snowman on the park bench sat with its head in its hands.

“I wonder why he’s so unhappy?” Mason asked.

“Maybe he’s lonely,” Harrison replied.

Mason squeezed Harrison’s hand then quirked an eyebrow at their son. “Jaxon?”

“I think he’s thirsty.” The boy placed his empty juice bottle between the snowman’s legs.

“Hmm,” Mason said. “Maybe we should recycle that for him.”

“Oops.” Jaxon handed it to Harrison, then squatted to pick up a piece of black cloth and draped it over the snowman’s leg. “Maybe he was sad ’cause he dropped this.”

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Uses the prompt word (cookie) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and this image prompt:

Could be from either Harrison or Mason’s 3rd-person POV:

“How is he not freezing his buns off out there?” Harrison peered out the window at Jaxon with his friends.

“They stay warm running around.” Mason approached and laid a hand on Harrison’s shoulder. When he saw the snowman the kids had built he burst out laughing.

“You didn’t give them that idea, then?”

“To build it upside down? No, but I like it. What’s that they’re using for buttons?”

“I brought out a tray of those cookies I baked. I guess they had extras.”

“Those were good.” Mason nuzzled Harrison’s neck. “Mm, but not nearly as tasty as you.”

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Uses the prompt word (penile) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and this image prompt:

Told from Mason’s 3rd-person POV:

“Tossed Salad.”

Harrison turned his head and peered at Mason. The words had been muttered. The man lay on his stomach, his head to the side and eyes closed.

“Treasure trail.” Mason moved a little with the words. I mild kind of stretch one might make when half asleep.

Harrison nudged his husband. “You awake?”

“Wang.” The word was barely breathed.

“What?”

“Wank.”

Harrison snorted. “You’re a nut.”

“Penile.”

“I’ll ‘penile’ you!” Harrison rolled and draped an arm across Mason’s back.”

One of Mason’s eyes cracked open as a grin spread across his face. “About time you figured it out.”

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Uses the prompt words (sneeze – muzzy) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post.

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Harrison moaned as he rolled and reached for a tissue. He found the box, but it was empty. He didn’t even care when it fell and tumbled noisily across the hardwood floor.

Jaxon poked his head around the corner. “You feel any better, Daddy?”

Harrison blinked a few times, trying to focus on his son. “Feeling muzzy.”

“Huh?”

“Brain’s foggy.” He closed his eyes and mumbled, “Could you have Pop bring more tissues, please?”

Harrison reopened his eyes when a heavier tread walked into the room. Mason grinned and set a glass of water on the bedside table. “Jaxon says you asked for a joint.”

“A what? No—tissues!” Harrison sat and covered his lower face. “Sorry. Gonna sneeze.”

Mason ran into the attached bathroom and returned with a wad of toilet paper. It was better than getting snot on his hands, so he snatched the pile in the nick of time.

“Be right back.” Mason dashed out, and Harrison dropped the used TP into the trash can someone had placed by the bed for him.

When Mason returned, he handed Harrison a fresh box of Kleenex and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Chicken soup’s heating on the stove. I’ll bring you some in a minute.” Mason ran fingers through Harrison’s sweaty hair, brushing it back out of his face. “I wonder why Jaxon thought you were asking for a doobie.”

“Dunno. I’m too muzzy to think straight.”

Mason sputtered then leaned across to plant a kiss on Harrison’s brow.

“Aw, I don’t want to make you sick, too.”

“Worth it.” Mason’s grin was extra wide as he chuckled his way out of the room.

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I came across this list of writing prompts for May, 2017 on the Writer’s Write page and thought I’d give it a whirl. I wrote a series of drabbles (precisely 100-word scenes) that feature the characters from my Adventures with Harrison and Mason flash fiction story scenes, and flow together to tell the story of a significant event in their life.

May 1, 2017 — Eclectic

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Harrison’s head bopped as he and his son Jaxon danced around the living room to the eclectic mix of music on the young boy’s playlist. Jaxon’s laughter caught his attention as the current song came to an end.

“Daddy, what was that?” Jaxon covered his grin with one hand.

“The song? I don’t know the name. It’s your playlist, don’t you know what it’s called?”

“No, the dance.” He snickered through his fingers.

“Eh, it’s just some freestyle dancing. I don’t think it has a name.”

“I think it does.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s called ‘The Mom Dance.’”

~ ~ ~

Just for fun:

May 2, 2017 — Disheveled

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Mason took a deep breath, enjoying the savory scent of roasting chicken as he opened the front door, then laughed at the sight of the disheveled duo sprawled on the couch. “Do I want to know what you’ve been up to?”

“Daddy was teaching me how to dance.” Jaxon’s eyes had a teasing glint to them, thank goodness, because as much as Mason loved his husband—damn, the man had no rhythm at all.

Harrison sputtered. “You can wipe that concerned look off your face.”

“We did the ‘Elaine Benes Dance,’” Jaxon said. “I can teach you if you want.”

~ ~ ~

For those who aren’t Seinfeld fans and have no idea what the “Elaine Benes Dance” is, I’ll save you the Google effort:

May 3, 2017 — It’s Complicated

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Jaxon rubbed his belly and at least covered his mouth for the burp that followed. “That chicken was great, what’s for dessert?”

Harrison raised an eyebrow without answering.

“Oh,” Jaxon said with an impish grin. “Excuse me.”

Harrison replied, “The rest of that strawberry pie from yesterday.”

“Did you finish up packing?” Mason nodded toward Jaxon. “Remember, we’re leaving early in the morning.”

“Well…” Jaxon squirmed in his chair. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Daddy says I have to pack enough clothes for every day even though I won’t be able to fit all my action figures if I do.”

~ ~ ~

Maybe Jaxon needs a visit from the The Packing Efficiency Engineer:

May 4, 2017 — Achievers

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Mason laughed. “I’m not sure you could squeeze in enough clothes for anyday if you try to bring all your action figures.”

“You can bring some, I told you,” Harrison said. “Just top it off around twenty.”

Jaxon’s lower lip stuck out, and he crossed his arms across his chest as he appealed to Mason. “Daddy said I should maybe just bring the achievers ones, but I don’t know what that means.”

Mason’s right eyebrow shot up as he turned to Harrison. “Avengers, maybe?”

“Yeah. Probably.” Harrison rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Jaxon sniffed. “And I wanna bring my Kracken.”

~ ~ ~

The Origin of the Kraken:

May 5, 2017 — Station 12

Also includes “lazy” left in the comments of the April 28, 2017 Flash Fiction Friday post.

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

“We’re almost there,” Mason said. “Wake up, lazybones!” It was no wonder Jaxon had crashed in the backseat of the rental car. They’d gotten up so early for their flight, and of course the little boy had been too excited to sleep on the plane.

“To Gramps’ house?” Jaxon rubbed his eyes then looked out the window and pointed at the big red doors of the firehouse as they passed. “Hey, it’s Station 12! Maybe he’ll tell me more stories of when he was a fireman.”

Harrison chuckled and nudged Mason. “It’s his favorite subject, so I’m sure he will.”

May 6, 2017 — Seasons

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

“Gramps!” Mason wrapped his arms around the older man and gave him a big hug.

Gramps chortled. “How’s my favorite grandson?”

“I’m doing just fine. It’s great to see you again.” Mason patted his back and stepped back.

“I thought Pop was your only grandson,” Jaxon said.

“And you, whippersnapper, are my favorite great-grandson.” Jaxon didn’t duck fast enough to avoid getting his hair ruffled. “Come on in. It’s not exactly the Four Seasons, but then again, we’ve got prime dinosaur bone hunting grounds in the backyard and they don’t.

Harrison laughed. “Sounds like the perfect amenities for this family.”

May 7, 2017 — You Idiot

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

“Are there really dinosaur bones buried here?” Jaxon looked around the backyard.

Mason shrugged. “Never found any, but I sure tried.”

Gramps chortled. “Found plenty of fossils, though.”

“Did you keep them?” Harrison asked.

“You idiot! Quit digging holes in the yard and get over here!”

They all jumped as the shrill words drifted over the fence. Jaxon turned wide eyes to his fathers and gulped. “Thanks for never yelling and calling me names.”

Harrison scooped the boy up and hugged him. Mason patted his head and said, “Never.”

Gramps added, “And you can excavate my yard all you want.”

May 8, 2017 — Cover to Cover

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Harrison sat in a lounge chair as he flipped through the final pages of Amy Tasukada’s Blood Stained Tea with wide eyes. “Holy shit,” he muttered. “I can’t believe he did that.”

A cheer went up in the back corner of the yard. “We found another one, Daddy!” Jaxon hollered.

Harrison closed the book. “Wow! How many fossils is that, now?”

Gramps sat in the neighboring lounge chair. “Ten. What’d you do, read that cover to cover while sitting here?”

Harrison glanced to where Jaxon and Mason were refilling their latest hole. “Well, they have been at it a while.”

~ ~ ~

May 9, 2017 — Downloading

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Apparently, Mason’s idea of vacation fun was to relive his youth with their son, Jaxon. That fit with Harrison’s notion of a great holiday—relaxing with a good book while watching those two explore and channel their combined creative energy.

Gramps seemed to have the same idea as Harrison. He chuckled as Mason boosted Jaxon onto a low branch of the backyard apple tree then turned to Harrison. “What’chya readin’ now?”

“I’m downloading a short story, Unconditionally, by Nell Iris, to my Kindle.” He’d heard it was sweet. That’s what he needed after the gritty crime drama he’d read yesterday.

~ ~ ~

May 10, 2017 — Tic-Tac-Toe

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“What are you doing?” Harrison giggled as Mason’s tongue traced circles and exes across his abdomen, then whispered, “I don’t want to wake up Jaxon or Gramps.”

“I’m not the one making noise.” Mason waggled his eyebrows and went right back to what he’d been doing. Not that Harrison had any real objections, but they weren’t used to the bedrooms being situated so close to each other.

Harrison stifled a moan with a fist when Mason’s next “x” ended with his tongue raking over a sensitive nipple.

“I won.” Mason kissed his way up to Harrison’s lips.

“Won what?”

“Tic-tac-toe.”

May 11, 2017 — Juniper’s

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“Stick ’em up, cowboy.” Jaxon’s finger pressed against Mason’s back. “Reach for the sky!”

Mason winked at Harrison and obediently raised his arms, like a juniper’s branches, up toward the sky.

Harrison chuckled. “Who are you, Jesse James?” Seemed like that was a safe guess considering they were walking out of the Jesse James museum.

“Nope, I’m a marshal that’s gonna arrest him.”

“Good choice,” Gramps said. “What do you say we rustle on over to the Bad Art Bistro and feed that outlaw a burger before hauling him in?”

May 12, 2017 — Chalkboard

Also includes “insurance”, left in the comments of the May 5, 2017 Flash Fiction Friday post.

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“This outlaw doesn’t want a burger after all,” Mason pointed at the chalkboard with the daily lunch special. “I’m gonna get the bistro club sandwich.”

“I still want a burger,” Jaxon said. “We’re going to the park next, right Daddy?”

“Right,” Harrison said. “We’re going to watch Pop’s best friend from when he was your age play softball.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Jaxon’s jaw dropped as he stared at the velvet Elvis painting hanging on the wall at the Bad Art Bistro. “Did he grow up to be a lawyer, like Pop?”

“Nope.” Gramps shook his head. “He’s my insurance agent.”

May 13, 2017 — Cayon Deep

Note: Per Merriam-Webster online, “cayon” isn’t even a word. It does exist as a proper noun—as a place and as a surname (also apparently a type of olive)—but not as a regular word. It might have been a typo (possibly “canyon” considering it was paired with “deep”), but I went with using the word as it’s listed, using it as a surname.

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“That’s where he’s playing,” Mason led them toward the ballfield on their left where players were already taking their positions. “I guess we’re too late to talk to him before the game starts.”

They settled in a row on the bleachers. “Which one is your friend?” Jaxon asked.

Harrison spotted him first and pointed. “There. That’s Andy Cayon deep in center field.”

“Good old Andy.” Mason smiled and nudged Jaxon. “He was my dinosaur bone hunting partner.”

Gramps cackled. “You two dug so many holes in my backyard. Remember when I buried that ham bone for you guys to find?”

May 14, 2017 — Two Holes

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“I need you to fill those before dinner, please,” Harrison said.

“Oh, yeah.” Jaxon reached for a shovel, not at all vexed by the prospect of refilling the two holes he and Mason hadn’t had time to finish before they’d left for their outings this morning.

Jaxon hefted a shovelful of dirt then did a double-take after looking in the hole. He fiddled with something in the hole, then jumped up and waved a grubby bone—that looked suspiciously like the one Gramps had boiled to make ham and beans yesterday—over his head. “Pop! Daddy! Gramps! I found one!”

May 15, 2017 — Peak

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Harrison covered a giggle with one hand as the other raked through the hair on Mason’s head. “Are you playing tic-tac-toe again?” he whispered.

“Nope.” Mason’s tongue dragged over one nipple, urging it into a tight peak, then traced the tip across to circle the other. “Guess again.”

Harrison’s abs quaked beneath Mason’s tongue as he traveled lower, then dove into Harrison’s navel. “I can’t think when you do that.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No!”

Using a finger, Mason drew a line from navel back to the first nipple. “I’m playing connect…” He raised a single eyebrow, expectantly.

“…the dots.”

May 16, 2017 — Different

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Harrison snickered. “That’s…different.”

Mason’s grin tickled, and Harrison bucked as his husband’s lips brushed against his armpit hair. Mason dropped one more kiss to the sensitive area of skin then nipped a path to his ear. “And different is…”

“Good,” Harrison gasped. “Definitely good.” He’d suggest that he must be doing something wrong if Mason needed to ask, but he knew Mason had already known the answer.

With his arms tight around Mason’s waist, Harrison rolled them and dove for the spot on Mason’s neck that always drove the man crazy. Mason shuddered as Harrison whispered, “Now it’s my turn.”

May 17, 2017 — Aborted

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“Shh. What’s that?” Harrison whispered. Light—but fast moving—footsteps headed down the hallway toward their room, answering Harrison’s question about the thud he’d heard.

“Mission aborted,” Mason intoned as Harrison rolled off and raked a hand through his hair, then took a deep cleansing breath and blew it out.

A soft knock sounded on the wooden door, and Mason called out, “Come on in, Jaxon.”

The door creaked open, and the little boy entered with a great big smile on his face. “Is there a museum near here that could tell us what kind of dinosaur bone I found?”

May 18, 2017 — A New Low

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Gramps passed out the dessert brownies, and Jaxon said, “I think the train at that one museum was the best thing today.”

“The stage coach was cool, too,” Gramps replied.

“Do you remember riding in them?” Jaxon grinned and had a glint in his eye.

Gramps cackled. “Whippersnapper. Remember who baked those!”

Mason rejoined them, shoving his phone into his pocket. Harrison asked, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Client hit a new low, but the partners can handle it. No biggie.” Mason stood behind Harrison and massaged his shoulders. “What do you say we crack open that bottle of wine this evening?”

May 19, 2017 — Calibri

Also includes “cocktail,” left in the comments of the May 12, 2017 Flash Fiction Friday post.

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Mason sipped Harrison’s diva daiquiri and peered over the man’s shoulder. “Who are you drunk-emailing?”

“My sister. Wha’ makes you think I’m drunk?”

“Besides the fact we finished off a bottle of wine together, and you’re now on your second cocktail?” Mason landed a light kiss to Harrison’s forehead. “There’s that wacky font you’re using.”

“It’s ‘herculanum.’” Harrison giggled through his harrumph. “My sister’s done a lot for us. She deserves better than just basic ‘calibri’ or some other boring font.”

“True.” Mason sat and covered his mouth to stifle a snicker. “Use ‘Curlz MT’ to give her my love.”

May 20, 2017 — Tainted

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Mason grinned as Jaxon danced around the living room to the 80s tunes Gramps had on the radio. Thankfully with better rhythm than Harrison, but unfortunately to the reverberating beat of ‘Tainted Love.’ At least it wasn’t so loud he couldn’t hear Harrison’s groan coming from the other room.

Joining his husband in the kitchen, Mason set a glass of water in front of where the man rested his head on folded arms. Mason ran his fingers through Harrison’s hair. “Headache?”

Harrison took a long drink of water before turning to Mason. “Please tell me I didn’t send that email.”

May 21, 2017 — Mud and Milk

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Harrison’s headache hadn’t entirely dissipated yet when Jaxon trotted into the kitchen. “You’ll never guess what!”

“What?” Harrison asked at the same time Mason said, “It’s not even possible to lick your own elbow?”

So of course Jaxon tried it before refocusing on his original purpose. “No. Guess what’s actually good for rubbing all over your skin.”

“Coconut oil,” Mason replied. Harrison choked back a laugh, remembering another use they’d found for the stuff.

“No!” Jaxon said. “Well, I don’t know. I mean mud and milk. So, I was thinking—”

“Not a chance, kiddo, but nice try,” Mason said.

May 22, 2017 — Booked

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“So, Jaxon’s talk about mud facials and milk baths got me thinking.” Mason plopped onto the sofa next to Harrison.

Harrison perked up and hiked his eyebrows. “Yeah? Maybe a spa day?”

“You got it.” Mason leaned in for a light kiss. “I booked us for this afternoon. I talked to Gramps. He’ll take Jaxon to see that Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie and play a round of mini-golf.”

“Awesome. I needed a relaxing day, and I imagine Gramps is thrilled at the idea of a little one-on-one with Jaxon.”

“You should’ve seen him grinning when I suggested it!”

May 23, 2017 — Leave Me

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

Harrison dropped bonelessly onto the bench in the sauna. “Best massage ever.”

“Same here,” Mason agreed. “Dude didn’t leave me with even the slightest bit of tension anywhere in my muscles.”

“I feel like a limp cat someone could throw over their shoulder.” Harrison ran his thumb across Mason’s palm. “This has been a great trip.”

“It has.” Mason lifted Harrison’s hand and kissed his fingers. “A perfect mix of family, fun, and relaxation.”

“One more day until we head home. Made any progress convincing Gramps to move in with us?”

“My hope is this afternoon with Jaxon will help.”

May 24, 2017 — Can Opener

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

When Harrison and Mason opened the front door, Jaxon ran out of the kitchen with a huge smile on his face. “I helped make dinner!”

“I’ll bet,” Mason said. “Daddy always says you’re such a great helper.”

“Remember, I helped bake you a rainbow birthday cake?”

“I do! It was yummy and beautiful at the same time.”

“I got to turn the crank on the can opener because Gramps’ hands hurt when he does it, but not mine.”

Mason turned sad eyes toward Harrison. Harrison nodded. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe he’s holding back, thinking he’d be intruding on us.”

May 25, 2017 — A Toy

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

“Also, Gramps said you gave him too much money for just the movie and mini-golf, so he said we could go to the store and buy a toy. I got a Groot. It’s really cool.” Jaxon bounced with excitement and reached for Mason’s hand. “Come on, it’s in the kitchen. I’ll show you.”

“Hold on a bit.” Mason patted the cushion next to him on the sofa. “Daddy’s talking to Gramps. Let’s give them a few more minutes before joining them.”

“’Cause we want Gramps to come live with us, right?”

Mason nodded. “You’d like that?”

“Yeah. I love Gramps.”

May 26, 2017 — Congrats

Also includes “universally,” left in the comments of the May 19, 2017 Flash Fiction Friday post.

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Mason stood and glanced at Jaxon. “Okay, let’s go in.” He set his jaw and channeled Lizzy Bennett with the thought, it’s a truth universally acknowledged that a man faced with losing his independence will hold onto it with all his might.

But, they didn’t intend to strip Gramps of his freedom. He was far from helpless. But he was lonely, and more and more could use some help. Hopefully, Harrison was making headway.

Mason’s knees buckled at the sight of the huge smile on Harrison’s face. Gramps turned and winked. “Congrats, your softhearted husband finally talked me into it.”

May 27, 2017 — Hey, Ho!

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

“Hey, ho!” Mason cheered. “Gramps, I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Yay!” Jaxon bounced and ran to Gramps and hugged him. “How soon before you move in with us?”

“We’ve already worked that out,” Harrison said. “We’ll use our last day here tomorrow helping Gramps sort out and box up what he wants to keep and bring to Minneapolis. We’ll book another seat on our flight, and he’ll bring a couple suitcases with him. The boxes we’ll ship, and hire someone to deal with the rest.”

Gramps nodded. “I figured a ripping off the Band-Aid fast approach might be best.”

May 28, 2017 — No. 4C

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

“Got it done.” Mason placed his laptop on the coffee table and looked at Gramps. “The flight wasn’t full. For now, you’re in seat No. 4C, but when we get there I’d like for either Harrison or I to switch with you.”

“See, that’s what I don’t want to do—interfere with your family,” Gramps said.

Harrison placed a hand on Gramps’ knee. “You are part of our family. Accommodating needs is not ‘interfering.’”

“Please, Gramps.” Jaxon turned on his patented “cow eyes” expression. “But, I want to sit next to you on the plane.”

Gramps cackled. “Clearly, I’m outmaneuvered.”

May 29, 2017 — Pack Your Bags

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Boxes full of Gramps’ belongings that had special meaning to him were stacked in the living room. Mason hefted suitcases up from the basement storage room. Harrison, Gramps, and Jaxon were sprawled on the sofa taking a much-deserved break.

“I’ll order us some pizza for dinner,” Mason said. “Then we’ll clear the clothes and stuff you’re taking on the plane off your bed and pack your bags.”

“Yay for pizza!” Jaxon cried.

“Sounds perfect.” Harrison turned to Gramps. “I hope you’re not too sad about leaving here.”

“Not as sad as I would’ve been waving goodbye to you three tomorrow.”

May 30, 2017 — Just Sick of It

(Mason’s 3rd-person POV)

Mason settled into his seat on the airplane, turned to Gramps, and patted his hand. “So what made you finally decide to accept my offer?”

“Eh.” Gramps shrugged. “I guess I was just sick of it.”

“It?” Mason quirked an eyebrow.

“Being the last man standing. All my friends have died off or been moved into nursing homes.”

Mason shivered as a chill flickered through him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Gramps winked and squeezed his hand. “It’s better than the alternative, right? And I’ve still got my wits and my health, and now I have you, Harrison, and Jaxon.”

May 31, 2017 — I Almost Forgot

(Harrison’s 3rd-person POV)

“There!” Harrison smoothed a hand over the homemade quilt he’d spread over Gramps’ bed. “Does it feel like you’re settled in, now?”

The boxes they’d shipped with Gramps’ belongings had arrived today, and they’d had fun finding places for each of his treasures throughout the house. “It feels like home.” Gramps grinned, and one of his trademark chortles escaped him. “Thank you. I almost forgot how to laugh, then you three swooped in and reminded me.”

The back door slammed open and Jaxon shouted. “Gramps! You’ve got to come and see! You’ll never guess what! We have fossils here, too!”

~ ~ ~

The End!

Click to go to original blog post

Uses the prompt words (love – family – reunion) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post.

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“Jaxon!” Harrison’s sister, Maryanne, enveloped the boy in a big hug.

Jaxon grimaced, but managed to refrain from squirming out of her grip. “Aunt Maryanne, you always hug me so hard!”

“Because I love you so hard!” She released him and grinned as she dismissively waved her hand. “Go on…scoot.”

The Harrison family reunion was in full swing so Jaxon wasted no time running toward his cousins.

“He’s such a great kid,” she said.

“That’s because he has great genes.” Mason puffed out his chest in an exaggerated manner.

Harrison raised his eyes skyward. “And they’re off…”

Gramps chuckled as Maryanne preened. “Darned right they are!”

“And…” Mason said, adding a double eyebrow bounce. “I had sooo much fun contributing my half.”

Harrison snorted, remembering how he and Mason had Skyped during Mason’s session with the sample bottle in a little room at the doctor’s office. “You need to be part of this, too,” he’d said. Certainly it had been more “fun” than Maryanne’s egg retrieval.

Maryanne laughed and pulled a face. “Not an image I needed in my head for this party.”

Click to go to original post on Nell Iris’s blog (and to read the accompanying interview!)

Uses the prompt words (listless – uninspired – tired) left in the comments of an earlier Flash Fiction Friday post, and these words/phrases provided by Nell (“I’m Santa. I don’t need a condom; I have a stocking,” “Rudolph the red nosed rabbit,” and “holiday-schmoliday.”)

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“He actually said that?” Harrison asked.

Mason nodded, but his grin said he wasn’t concerned Jaxon was turning into a pint-sized scrooge. More like he was amused by what their son had said. Certainly “holiday-schmoliday,” wasn’t an expression they’d typically expect out of Jaxon—or at least the bah-humbug sentiment usually associated with the words wasn’t. Yeah, most likely he’d just thought it was a fun sounding word.

Now the boy was happily decorating holiday themed sugar cookies with Gramps in the kitchen. The two were surrounded by bowls of gaily colored frosting and every sort of decorative sprinkle marketing whizzes could conceive. The stacks of cookies on wire cooling racks were steadily converting from naked to flamboyantly adorned.

Harrison shrugged. “Well, if it was a mood, it looks like he’s over it.” He approached the table. “These look great!”

He picked up a vaguely stocking-shaped cookie that had pink frosting underneath a fortune in white nonpareils in alternating stripes with cinnamon red-hots. He rubbed his stomach and took an enormous bite.

Mason picked up an avocado-colored Elf and chomped off his head. “What’s the story behind the green Santa?” He directed a wink at Harrison. He knew—he was just winding them up.

Gramps hooted. “That’s not Santa Claus!”

“Help me,” Jaxon wailed, channeling The Grinch. “I’m…I’m…feeling!”

“Hmm.” Mason brow raised in mock surprise. “feeling…listless?”

At Jaxon’s giggle, Gramps added, “Uninspired?” Then affected a massive gasp and sat back in his chair. “The horror! Tell me it ain’t so!”

Laughing, Harrison picked up a spare spreading knife and snagged the final unadorned cookie: a reindeer with mutant blobs for antlers. He went with basic white frosting and covered it in blue sugar sprinkles. He added a cinnamon red-hot at the nose and a glop of chocolate frosting at the…uh…rear.

When he placed it on the rack, Gramps chortled. Jaxon guffawed and sang, “Rudolph the red-nosed rabbit…” He pinched his nose. “Had a very stinky butt!”

“Speaking of stinky butts,” Mason said. “You need a quick bath before heading to bed.”

“But I’m not even tired.” Jaxon’s jaw-cracking yawn told the real story. He got up and muttered a defeated, “Nuts.”

Harrison ruffled his hair. “At least you haven’t been roped into cleanup duty.”

Jaxon’s eyes widened as he took in the debris field that might or might not have a kitchen table buried somewhere underneath it. “I’m sooo sleepy…” He raised his arms in front of him as he staggered toward the door. “I might even be sleepwalking.”

“You’re off-duty, too.” Mason leaned down to kiss his grandfather’s weathered brow. “Thank you for handling the decorating.”

“Wasn’t a chore at all.” Gramps stifled a yawn of his own. “As you well know.”

After Gramps shuffled toward the bedrooms, Mason eyed the table. “Yikes.”

“Worth it, though.” Harrison handed him a couple clean cookie sheets and a tube of waxed paper. “You want to layer the cookies on these while I start the cleanup?”

It didn’t end up taking all that long to get it done. Before Harrison knew it, he had Jaxon tucked into bed, had made sure Gramps was comfortably settled for the night, and found Mason in their en suite bathroom, filling the large spa tub.

“Perfect.” Harrison added some lavender scented bubble bath. He squatted and swished a hand through the warm water then took a deep breath of the relaxing fragrance. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

“No. Just what Santa ordered.”

Harrison executed a double-take then laughed and shook his head.

“What in the world?” In less than a minute, Mason had managed to strip, put on a Santa hat, and hang a stocking from his—

“I’m Santa.” Mason double-flashed his eyebrows. “I don’t need a condom; I have a stocking.”

Harrison snickered and scooped up a handful of bubbles. He deftly daubed the suds along Mason’s jaw.

“There.” He added a lingering kiss as Mason’s hands glided up his back. “Now you’re a proper Santa.”

Originally posted in Addison’s May, 2020 newsletter:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Sitting with his feet up in the living room, Harrison scratched lazily behind the ears of the family’s ginger cat, then startled and grimaced when Pickles dug her claws into his thighs when Mason stalked out of the den and into their bedroom.

Gramps harrumphed. “That grumpy Gus is turning into a misanthrope.”

Harrison snorted but shook his head. Mason’s personality type didn’t mesh well with social distancing and stay-at-home directives, but he wasn’t to the point of loathing people in general, let alone his own family. Harrison flashed a wink at Grampy. “What’dya think? Should we be on the lookout for a gory trail leading to a tortured baby bunny tucked behind the shed? Or has he merely morphed into a top notch sarcast, irritating his team members between his effusive apologies.”

Mason didn’t actually shout when he reached the end of his patience during conference calls, but his voice occasionally carried out to them. Harrison’s depiction was an exaggeration, but nevertheless, while Mason wasn’t outright monstrous, it was clear that he wasn’t his usual charming self. Points to Mason’s team members for not finding ways to “accidentally” end the connection during some of those meetings, because no doubt they were feeling the strain, too.

Gramps’ grumble turned into his distinctive chortle. “Nah. I’m pretty sure this is temporary. Besides, Jaxon would’ve discovered it already if Mason’d done anything so mafia-esque.”

All true. One way or another, the pandemic would eventually end. In the meantime, they would do was their best to keep it out of their home, because Gramps was in no condition to weather that storm.

They both turned to look out the glass patio doors to where Harrison and Mason’s son, Jaxon, stood painting a mural on their wooden privacy fence. It was quite good, actually, especially considering the boy was only eleven.

“Those clouds look almost real,” Gramps said. “His art lessons are paying off.”

Harrison nodded. Well worth it. Jaxon loved all-things creative, and this artistic release was helping him cope with the constraints of social distancing.

So Jaxon wasn’t a concern. Perhaps he didn’t laugh as boisterously—downright cachinnate—like he usually did, but his merriment hadn’t disappeared altogether.

Harrison heaved a weary sigh and stared for a few moments at the closed bedroom door. He’d taken Mason’s quirkiness and perkiness, and the sparkle and lustre in his eyes for granted, never consciously realizing how much those things elevated the mood of the household…until they were gone.

Well, not precisely gone, but dampened.

And darn it—Harrison gave himself a tight, decisive little nod—he was going to do something about it. He stood and raised a brow in Gramps’ direction. “Keep an eye on Jaxon?”

Gramps’ chortle morphed into a titter. “’Course! Go get ’im, Tiger.”

Harrison’s face warmed, but following through on Gramps’ innuendo was probably just what Mason needed to boost his mood. Plumbing sounds indicated Mason was taking a shower—a tactic he’d used lately to calm himself—so Harrison detoured through the kitchen.

Something fizzy and fruity was called for. Wouldn’t hurt, anyway. A generous helping of Japanese plum wine, some sparkling water, a couple splashes of lime juice, and a few lime wedges later, and he’d put together a pair of nice looking spritzers. He placed them on a tray with a plate of the raspberry jam thumbprint cookies Gramps and Jaxon had made that morning then headed for the bedroom.

Steam rolled out of the cracked en-suite bathroom doorway as Harrison softly snicked closed the bedroom door. And pointedly turned the lock.

He placed the tray on the bedside table then slipped out of his clothes. Maybe he could still join Mason in the shower. But that pleasant thought had no sooner crossed his mind when the swoosh of falling water was replaced by a sudden silence, then the double click of the shower door opening and closing.

Harrison breathed in the steamy, herbal scented air as the softer sounds of a sigh and a fluffy towel rubbing along wet skin wafted out.

He regarded the bed. Should he lie on it or remain standing? Setting up romantic scenes was usually more Mason’s purview than Harrison’s. Harrison gave himself a mental kick in the ass for not thinking ahead and picking some lilac branches off the bush currently in full bloom in the back yard. Mason loved that scent.

“Nice.”

Harrison jumped at the sound of Mason’s voice, with its far jauntier timbre than what had been drifting out of the den just minutes ago. Harrison grinned. “I thought you might like to…ah…partake of a little afternoon…snack.”

The sparkle returned to Mason’s eyes as he raked his gaze up and down Harrison’s body. “I know what I want to snack on.” He dropped the towel he’d been holding around his waist and swiftly crossed the room. He pulled Harrison into his arms and murmured, “This new dress code is an upside to working from home. Do you think I could get away with it in a video chat?”

“Might be distracting.” Harrison’s lips quirked. “I dare you to do it for a regular conference call, though.”

Mason snorted a laugh. “Any time I feel my blood pressure rising, I’ll just think, ‘I’m sitting here bare-assed naked, and you jokers have no idea.’”

“Double dog dare.” Harrison picked up the spritzers and handed one to Mason.

Mason clinked the glasses together. “Here’s to finding creative ways to make it through these dark days without losing who we are.”

“Or ending up in jail.”

“Check. No nude video chats.” Mason’s eyes narrowed to slits with his wide grin. “But if you hear the lock click on the den door, you’ll know what I’m doing.”

Harrison giggled. “I love you.”

One long kiss later, Mason murmured, “I love you, too.”

Originally posted in Addison’s January, 2021 newsletter:

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

“Hurricane?” Harrison’s sister, Maryanne, who was framed on Mason’s laptop screen, widened her eyes comically.

“Huh?” Jaxon cast his gaze around the room with the feigned innocence of a precocious twelve-year-old.

“Tornado?” She cocked her head and squinted as if straining for a better look. “Is everyone okay?”

Harrison grinned as his playlist switched to a relaxing instrumental holiday melody, providing an audio contrast to the visual chaos behind them. “No injuries yet, though I won’t rule out the possibility of a sprained back for the cleanup brigade.”

“Nah.” Mason grinned. “I’ll detour the street sweeper through the living room.”

Gramps cackled and bounced a clump of wrapping paper off Mason’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure that monstrosity won’t be on our street again for a couple weeks.”

“Hmm.” Harrison rubbed his chin. “How restrictive are the child labor laws in our state?”

“Whatever.” Jaxon rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t dim. “Like I didn’t know I’d be cleaning it up anyway.”

Mason snorted a laugh. “Like we don’t all know you’re the primary force behind the mess anyway.”

A fluffy ball of black fur chose that moment to erupt out of a dense pile of crumpled paper, trailing a long, wide, red ribbon.

“Buttercup!” Jaxon leaned back and craned his neck as the kitten streaked down the hallway, bouncing twice off the wall on her way to Jaxon’s bedroom.

“When did you get a cat?” Maryanne asked. “And am I correct in guessing that Harrison named her?”

“Hey.” Harrison grinned. “Buttercup is, always was, and always will be the coolest Powerpuff Girl.”

“Fact.” Mason inclined his head. “Can’t argue with the truth.”

Maryanne snickered. “This is why I’ve never been surprised that Harrison fell in love with you. You’re a smartass just like Buttercup, and he hero worshiped her when we were growing up.”

“She’s a smartass slash badass.” Mason preened.

“Hmm.” Harrison winked. “One out of two ain’t bad.”

Originally posted in Addison’s September, 2023 newsletter:

Write the Story: An Alien in Disguise Among Humans
Include the following in your story:
Aurora Borealis ~ paint brush ~ corn field ~ cluster ~ lineup ~ overlook ~ suspect ~ bridge ~ dome ~ dash

Told from Harrison’s 3rd-person POV:

Harrison quirked an eyebrow as Jaxon zipped closed his backpack. “Why did you put a paint brush in there?” Not to mention, where had it come from? Had he and Mason purchased it in Fairbanks earlier in the day, or had they actually packed it for this Labor Day weekend trip here to Alaska?

Jaxon and Mason exchanged a glance. A look Harrison was eminently familiar with. It was their “Daddy won’t understand” look, which generally meant it wasn’t a paint brush—duh—it was a magic wand. Or maybe they were planning to teleport to India to paint an invisibility veneer on the dome of the Taj Mahal after this cover-story/purported purpose of their holiday excursion was over? With Jaxon and Mason, one never knew.

Harrison managed not to roll his eyes and didn’t push the issue. “Come on.” He cocked his head toward the door. “We’ve gotta dash. The Aurora Borealis won’t care what you two are up to.”

He added a smile to soften his words. He wouldn’t want to give the impression he didn’t care what they were up to even though their make-believe games typically eluded and excluded him. Not that they pointedly excluded him. He just didn’t share the impressive imagination Jaxon had inherited from Mason.

“Right.” Mason returned the grin. He placed a hand on Jaxon’s shoulder. “Do you know what else we should be able to see in the night sky tonight? It’s very special to Daddy.”

Jaxon perked up and shook his head. Harrison had no idea what Mason might be referring to, but judging by the sparkle in his husband’s eyes, he wasn’t meant to. He was only meant to play along.

Harrison closed the hotel door behind them and said in a hushed tone, “Do you think Jaxon is old enough to hear the truth?”

“What truth?” Jaxon literally bounced as they strode toward the elevator. “And what else will be in the night sky?”

“Pleiades.” Mason left his reply at that. One simple word.

“Is that a star?” Jaxon’s brow scrunched.

This much Harrison knew. “It’s a cluster of stars, also known as the Seven Sisters.”

“Oh.” Jaxon shrugged. “Why is it so special to you?”

Harrison looked to Mason for help. This was his purview both in general and specifically for this thread.

But Mason just grinned innocently back and said, “Yes, I think he’s old enough to hear the truth. Go ahead and tell him.”

They stepped into the elevator behind an older couple. Harrison’s mind whirled and zoomed in on the only space-related idea that occurred to him. “If you’re sure…” He swallowed and looked into Jaxon’s wide eyes. “Well, that’s where I’m from.”

“Wait…what?” Jaxon laughed. “You’re from a star in Pleiades, not Pop?”

The older couple who was closed in the elevator with them shuffled away a few steps. Harrison ignored them and huffed. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Jaxon tilted his head like he was pondering the wonders of the universe, which Harrison supposed he was. Finally, he nodded. “You are more like a robot.”

Mason snorted a soft laugh, but his eyes had a soft, understanding look in them.

Harrison sputtered and affected an indignant posture with his hands on his hips. “I am not like a robot.”

“I know, I know.” Jaxon rolled his eyes and giggled. “I just mean you’re…literal…like a computer program or something. I can see an alien being more like that.”

Like a computer. Or, more accurately, like someone who was—just a bit, mind—neurodivergent. “Okay, that’s fair, I guess.”

The elevator dinged, and they strode through the lobby and veered toward the parking lot. The older couple gave them a wide berth.

“Tell him about how we met.” Mason’s grin had a sly tilt, and he had a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Yeah.” Jaxon’s entire expression mirrored Mason’s. “How did you meet Pop? You guys told me it was at a college party.”

“You were too young for the truth then.” Harrison’s mind whirled again. What did he know about alien lore? “But Pop was a college student, so that part was the truth.”

Jaxon waited expectantly for more, and Mason didn’t jump in. Crop circles was the only alien-related thing that came to mind. Lame, but… “My team had dropped me off to scout around the day before, and our ship had left a big circle in a corn field.”

“I remember that,” Mason said, finally, finally, jumping in to help. “A bunch of us had been crossing a bridge, and that overlook had given us a good view of the field. I told them it was an alien crop circle, but they’d just laughed it off. Said it was weird, though, that the farmer would waste so much of his field like that.”

“Right.” Harrison unlocked their rental car and they all buckled in. “I was lurking behind one of the trees running alongside the creekbank, still deciding which kind of earth creature I would shapeshift into.”

“You’re a shape shifter!?”

“Well yeah. I mean, what are the odds that I would look just like earth humans, otherwise?”

“Okay, good point. So can I see what you really look like?”

“Of course not. I would never get approval for that. Even Pop hasn’t seen that.” Harrison coughed. “Anyway, Pop was part of a group of young men—college students, I know now—standing there looking like a row of suspects in a police lineup.”

“Tell him why I’m the one that caught your attention.”

Harrison cast some side-eye at Mason, but Mason ignored it and put the car into gear and steered them toward the countryside, away from the city’s lights, the better to view the night sky.

“Right, well as you know—” Harrison fixed his gaze on Jaxon in the vanity mirror on his visor. “—I’ve got excellent hearing.”

“And eyes in the back of your head, I’m pretty sure,” Jaxon grumbled.

Harrison snickered. “I heard Pop trying to convince his friends about the reality of the crop circle. Clearly he was the most intelligent of the group.”

“How did you understand the language? I mean, as an alien your people might not talk anything like we do. It might be all titters and clicks or something, right?”

“Very astute.” Harrison had seen enough Sci-Fi to answer this one. “We’d been observing from space for long enough to be able to program the translators embedded in our brains with the human language of the region we’d decided to infiltrate.”

“Wait a minute. You said earlier you were still deciding which species to shapeshift into.”

Oops. “Right. See? You’re just as smart as Pop is. But even though humans are who we wanted to observe, that could possibly have been better achieved with me as a dog or other animal. I just needed to be able to understand the humans around me.”

The glance Mason shot his way had good save written all over it.

“Ultimately,” Harrison continued. “I decided to shift into a human because the laws of physics still apply to shape shifters, and they were a more compatible size.”

“And you decided you wanted to be with the smart human? Pop?”

“Exactly.”

“And you told him you were an alien?”

“Only because he figured it out. And I trusted him, and he trusted me when I said we had good intentions and only wanted to observe for a few centuries to decide whether this world was a good candidate to join the coalition of advanced worlds. Even if the verdict is ‘no,’ it’s not like we’re going to aim a death ray at you or anything.”

“Cool.” Jaxon nodded approvingly, and Harrison grinned. He might not be in Mason’s league, but he could hold his own on occasion.

Mason clasped his hand and brought it to his lips. “Maybe when your crew comes back for an update, you can take us for a spin around the solar system?”

“Of course!”

Jaxon giggled. “Maybe I won’t tickle you with that paint brush to make you think a spider landed on you when you’re looking at the sky after all.”