Jace nodded once more, the zipper sliding lower, Cory’s hands trembling as another inch or two of skin was revealed, glistening and smooth beneath the warm locker room lights overhead. “I mean, I can still swing by the store from time to time,” he insisted, squirming almost imperceptibly as the zipper slid even lower.

“I mean, you have to pay me at some point, right?” Cory teased above the sound of his thoroughly pounding heart.

“Sure,” Jace murmured quietly. “And pick up my records, obviously.”

Cory bit his lip, swallowed hard and shot his shot, the zipper paused midway down Jace’s shimmering back. “Actually, I was running out of space behind the counter so I brought most of them home for safe keeping. I hope ... you don’t mind?” Cory, hidden safely behind Jace’s radiant back, literally bit his lower lip while waiting for a reply.

Jace merely nodded, as if perhaps not entirely opposed to the idea? Just to make sure, Cory rushed out the punchline: “I was just thinking, I mean ... maybe sometime you could come over and pick them up?”

After a nail biting pause, Jace glanced gently to one side and croaked, “Really?”

Cory smiled reassuringly. “Sure, I mean ... they’re yours, after all.”

“But I haven’t even paid for them yet.”

Cory kept unzipping, lower and lower, following Jace’s spine until he spied the faded waistband of a pair of basic white briefs. His heart leapt slightly, as if to match the throb in his aching cock. Somehow, the thought of sweet, lanky Jace in tighty-whities was even more titillating than some racy thong. “Is this ... all you wear under here?”

Jace nodded, damp curls following along for the ride. “Sure, I mean, not much room.”

“Don’t you chafe?”

Jace chuckled out a youthful reply. “What?”

“You know, down there.”

“Yeah, I know and, no, I don’t, I ... moisturize, duh.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, it’s just ...”

Jace turned his head, dimples thick with a cheery grin. “Cory, you’re undressing me right now. Literally, taking off my clothes. You’re ... already prying, you know?”

“I mean, when you put it that way. I just thought I was helping.”

“You are,” Jace insisted. “I mean, I couldn’t have done this without your help tonight.”

“Undressed? Jace, you’ve been doing this all season long. I’m hardly helping.”

“Not the undressing part, Silly.” Jace’s voice was just above a whisper, but the words unmistakable, to say nothing of the coy, shaky tone of his voice.

Cory had gone as far as he could go, the zipper stalling just beneath the crest of Jace’s ripe, young ass. And still, Jace remained frozen in place, as if ... waiting for something. If only Cory knew how to take it to the next level. He reached, hands trembling, to Jace’s shoulders, half-bared by the unzipping but not quite. Almost unconsciously, he began to drag the costume across and over each shoulder. “Then what?” he asked almost breathlessly, entranced by Jace’s smooth skin, so clean and pale and glowing.

“You. Here. With me. I’ve been ...” Jace’s words trailed off, giving Cory the chance to tug the costume just a little lower, until the fuzzy white sleeves froze midway down his arms, all but locking them in place. It seemed as good a time as any to move closer, murmuring gently against one of Jace’s wildly blushing ears, hands gripping his arms in place. “You’ve been what, Jace?”

“Been wanting ... this,” Jace admitted, turning his face gently even as Cory wriggled the costume down another layer, until a single wriggle left only the sexy snowman’s hands bound by the last of the upper half of the costume. “This, here, your hands on me. Your face ... next to mine. The two of us. Together. Is that ... okay?”

Cory snorted, shaking his head before nodding. “Okay? Okay?! I’ve got you right where I want you, Jace. Where I’ve wanted you all winter long. Half-naked, sweaty and trembling in my arms. Why ... why do you think I hung that over your locker tonight?”

Jace blinked long, delicate lashes, momentarily confused. “Hung what?”

“That. Right there, over your head.”

Jace finally glanced up, just as Cory tugged his hands free and, in so doing, the costume down below the waistband of his damp undies. “Is that ...”

“Mistletoe?” Cory finished for him, gently turning Jace around until they finally faced one another. That is, between upward glances at the ridiculous sprig of mistletoe dangling from fishing line just above them.

“When ... where did that come from?”

Cory smirked, blushing a beet red. “Where do you think, kid?”