Miles forgets to buy a Christmas present for his fiancé Patrick and decides to lie about it to avoid trouble. He gets cheeky while he’s at it, only to get his just desserts.
It was Christmas.
To be specific, it was going to be Christmas in two days but it might as well be Christmas Day already.
To put it in other terms, Miles was fucked, and that was being generous.
It wasn’t Miles’ fault that he’d forgotten to get his fiancé, Patrick, a present. The pandemic had fucked shit up seven ways to Sunday all over the world and he just had so much work to do, these days.
Because of the virus, Miles’ consultancy firm had never had more business. While it meant that he was making more money than ever before, it also meant that his workload as CEO had nearly tripled, too.
Truth was that Miles’ dedication to his job had caused his and Patrick’s relationship to take a hit. He barely had any time for himself, much less for his partner, but it was well worth it, in his opinion.
There wasn’t such a thing as too much money. Not in Miles’ professional opinion, anyway. It was what made the world go ’round. Even if it couldn’t buy happiness, it sure as hell could buy things that made him happy.
Case in point: the penthouse condo he and Patrick had been looking to purchase since, well, forever. It was their dream place, smack-dab in the middle of the city’s most scenic district and within a reasonable distance of all the best amenities in town.
Miles and Patrick had been looking to buy the place for years, but it just hadn’t made much financial sense. It hadn’t, that was, until shortly before thanksgiving.
With all the extra revenue his company was bringing in, Miles was finally able to afford the place. It had been the best decision of his life. He had never been so happy and he would never have been able to do it without money.
Miles wasn’t feeling quite as stressed now as when they’d been living in a smaller apartment downtown and even though he still didn’t have much time to spend with Patrick, their relationship had improved leaps and bounds compared to what it had been during the height of the pandemic. It certainly helped that they had enough space now to do their own thing without being forced to share with the other.
Miles knew for a fact that Patrick was over the moon with the condo so he could only hope that it would be enough to soften the blow. He knew he hadn’t been the most attentive fiancé, recently, but Patrick was the reason he was doing this in the first place.
Even so, Christmas was another thing, entirely. It was a special time of the year for Patrick, who’d never really got to spend it much with his family when he was younger. Miles could already imagine the blow-up.
"All you do is work, work, work! You hardly ever have time for me anymore! Why don’t you go and marry your job instead if you like it so much!" Miles mockingly mouthed to himself as he skimmed over the latest report to land in his inbox.
"Ugh," Miles groaned. It was just a fucking present. It didn’t have to be such a big fucking deal but, somehow, he had a feeling it would be.
Patrick wasn’t usually such a massive queen about their relationship but he’d really been getting on Miles’ nerves recently. It had gotten to the point that Miles wondered if Patrick even realized that just because he had the fancy CEO title, it didn’t mean that he just got to sit back and relax.
Even though the company was doing better than it ever had, that didn’t mean things were any less stressful. If anything, it meant they were more stressful. They had high-profile clients, now. The stakes were much higher.
Every urgent phone call, every delayed report, was a ticking time bomb of anxiety. Fortunately, the one that had just arrived in Miles’ inbox, the last one he was waiting for before he called it a day, showed nothing out of the ordinary.
With a sigh, Miles leaned back in his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a headache. He didn’t need one. And all over some stupid little thing like a Christmas present, too.
Miles just didn’t get it. He didn’t exactly know how Patrick would react to his forgetting to buy him a present but he just had a sinking feeling that Patrick would make a huge deal out of it.
It was just a trifling little thing. It didn’t have to be a big deal. As far as Miles was concerned, their love was more important than any material possession, and he wasn’t just rationalizing why Patrick didn’t deserve to be upset.
Besides, Miles had just bought their dream condo. There wasn’t any bigger demonstration of his love and dedication than buying a place—the place—where they could spend the rest of their lives together.
If anything, Patrick was the one that needed to go the extra mile this Christmas. It wasn’t like he contributed much, financially. He spent most of his time working for and running non-profits. He could have been paid actual peanuts for his efforts and Miles wouldn’t have noticed the difference.
Not that Miles held it against Patrick in any way, of course. He knew, coming into this relationship, that it was Patrick’s dream to do work that made a difference in the world and he was more than happy to use his company’s success to fund his fiancé’s dream but Miles was the one making sure that the lights stayed on.
Miles was the one that worked hard to support the lifestyle he and Patrick had been enjoying. He couldn’t very well spend every waking minute thinking about how to make Patrick happy. Patrick’s dreams would have crashed and burned without him, to begin with.
If anyone had any right to feel underappreciated and upset at not getting any gifts, it was Miles. Not that he thought Patrick had forgotten to get him a present, but if Patrick had, then Miles had every right to be upset.
On the other hand, it was only understandable that Miles would forget to get Patrick a present. He was running himself ragged to support Patrick’s dreams.
The condo was the perfect example. If Miles hadn’t thrown himself headlong into his work to take advantage of the pandemic, someone else might have bought it from right under their noses. It wasn’t like Patrick’s dinky little art gallery for poor and disenfranchised artists would have brought in enough money to pay for the place any time soon.
Not that Miles would ever say anything to Patrick’s face, even if it was true. He just thought that he deserved some slack, being the primary breadwinner in the household. He didn’t sign up to work so many hours a week just to get a bollocking over something as fucking stupid as a forgotten Christmas present.
Miles sighed. He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He had to stop getting himself all riled up. He didn’t even know if Patrick would be upset. It was just that they’d had an argument this morning and it still bothered him that Patrick had implied he cared more for his job than he did for Patrick.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Miles tried to figure out what to do. Patrick looked forward to Christmas, a lot. Even if he ultimately didn’t get upset, he was sure to be disappointed if it turned out that Miles didn’t get him anything.
Miles’ saving grace was that he’d remembered before Christmas Day. He could pretend that he had ordered something, but that it hadn’t arrived just yet.
It didn’t even have to technically be a lie. As long as he ordered something before Christmas Day, it would technically be the truth.
Miles just didn’t want to have to deal with a potential blow-up on Christmas Day. Patrick was more likely to forgive the present not arriving on time—the pandemic was a thing, after all—than Miles forgetting to get him a present entirely until just a few days before Christmas.
It didn’t mean that Miles was off the hook for Christmas Day. That being said, he was sure that flowers, chocolates, and candy would do the trick.
While he was at it, Miles could probably do something a bit more cheeky, too. He’d always wanted to pull off that dick-in-a-box prank and now was as good a time as any.
Miles and Patrick had not had a chance to be intimate for a while. Miles’ job kept him up late at night and gave him little time to spare in the morning. If he played his cards right, his cock was probably likely to go over pretty well as a consolation Christmas present while the actual present was still on its way.
Turning to his laptop, Miles fired off an email to his assistant, explaining the situation and underscoring the importance that the tasks be done by the end of the next day. Even though tomorrow was Christmas Eve, Miles still had a ton of work to do for the firm’s biggest accounts. He wasn’t going to have a proper day off until Christmas Day itself.
As for the actual present that Miles was going to get Patrick, he had a fairly good idea of what he was meant to order. Patrick was a member of an organization that worked with game developers for more inclusive games and had been talking about the ReViz™ 0110 Virtual Reality Headset for months.
Miles didn’t himself follow the video games industry closely—he didn’t have time, these days—but he got the impression from Patrick that the headset was the "hot new thing" for gamers. Patrick had never mentioned wanting one for himself but Miles knew he was an avid gamer in his spare time.
To be expected of any popular piece of tech, though, the headset was sold out both in-store and online. Fortunately, the website said that if Miles ordered now, he would probably get the unit by the middle of January.
Though the gadget was more expensive than Miles expected, he didn’t mind the premium price tag. Money wasn’t an issue. Not anymore, at least.
Miles put his order in and closed his laptop, yawning and stretching as he got up from his chair. Just as he was about to leave his home office, his phone chimed with a new email from his assistant.
Fortunately, I know of a place that specializes in last-minute special day presents. I’ve had to use them once in the past when I forgot mine and my boyfriend’s anniversary, one year, and only have good things to say about their service.
They’re fast and efficient, sir, even if a little bit pricey but I think they can get you what you need by the end of the day tomorrow. I’ve already sent in an order with all the details you mentioned. They say that you should expect the package at around noon tomorrow.
If you need anything else, sir, just send me another email.
Good night, and good luck, sir!
Miles took a breath and visibly relaxed. He needed to give his assistant a raise. Paul was a rock in these trying times.
Cracking his neck as he walked out of the room, Miles felt a hundred pounds lighter. He’d managed to save the day. Everything was going to be alright.
Christmas Day arrived and Patrick was none the wiser that Miles had completely forgotten to get him a present until just two days ago. Miles was in a good mood. Everything was in place. Christmas was saved.
"Mornin’ love," said Miles, pressing a kiss to the base of Patrick’s neck and pulling him close. It was the first morning in the last couple of weeks that they’d had a chance to just… lie in bed for a little while.
"M-morning," Patrick mumbled, groggily. "’S Christmas, isn’t it?" he said, stifling a yawn.
Miles chuckled. "Merry Christmas, baby," he said.
"Merry Christmas," Patrick whispered, turning around in Miles’ arms to face him. "I love you."
Miles smiled. "I love you too," he said, giving Patrick a quick peck on the lips. "Now… I do have some bad news… I hope you’re not going to be too disappointed…"
"Let me guess," said Patrick, patting the side of Miles’ face, "the present you ordered for me hasn’t gotten here yet?"
Miles chuckled. "Guilty as charged," he said.
Patrick shrugged. He was taking this better than Miles had expected. So much better that Miles had to wonder if he’d just made up the crisis in his head.
"What do you expect? There’s a pandemic going on. I’ve got you. That’s enough," said Patrick. Though there was a hint of disappointment in his voice, it wasn’t as bad as Miles had feared.
Miles’ chest warmed at those words. He leaned in and kissed Patrick again. This time he didn’t pull away as quickly. He slid one hand up the curve of Patrick’s spine to hold him by the nape of the neck.
Patrick moaned into the kiss. He rolled his hips against Miles, his erection pressing into the side of Miles’ thigh.
Miles was hard, too. He slid his other hand down Patrick’s back to cup his ass. He ground his crotch into Patrick’s, their hard cocks rubbing together through their underwear.
When they broke the kiss, a single glistening strand of spit bridging the gap between their bottom lips, Patrick chuckled and said, "Besides… I was afraid yours wouldn’t get here on time. Luckily, it arrived last night."
Miles groped Patrick’s ass. He was rewarded with a low, sultry moan. "So…" Patrick murmured, tweaking one of Miles’ nipples, "Want to be… naughty before I give you my present?"
"I’d love to, baby," said Miles. "Just because your present isn’t getting here for a while doesn’t mean that I don’t have anything for you, today."
"Oh?" said Patrick. His hand slid down Miles’ torso, fingers leaving trails of tingling heat on Miles’ skin as they slipped into his boxer-briefs and squeezed his cock. "Is it a big package?"
"Mmm…" Miles hummed. "It is. But it’s in the living room, so come on," he continued, pulling Patrick’s hand out of his boxer-briefs and tugging him out of bed.
Patrick didn’t look too pleased, for a moment, as he slipped out of bed with a straining erection in his tight bikini briefs but Miles’ enthusiasm seemed to rub off on him and he laughed as he stumbled over his own feet on the way out the door.
They two made their way, swiftly, to the living room. Once there, Miles pushed Patrick to the couch and said, "Sit," which Patrick did, with a raised eyebrow.
"Alright, what’s this about, Miles?" said Patrick, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"You’ll see," said Miles. "I promise you’ll like it. Now just sit there and close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you to, okay?"
"Sure," said Patrick, raising an eyebrow as he closed his eyes.
"Not until I tell you to," Miles repeated, wagging a finger at Patrick.
Patrick rolled his eyes, still closed, and laughed. "Alright, alright," he said.
Miles took off toward the bedroom. The flowers were in the kitchen and the chocolates were under the tree and in the stockings over the faux fireplace. The only thing that remained was the box with a hole in it that he’d kept in the back of the walk-in closet just so Patrick wouldn’t find it.
Once he’d retrieved the box, Miles stripped off his boxer-briefs and stroked himself quickly back to full hardness. It wasn’t all that difficult, considering the heavy petting he and Patrick had done earlier.
The box was beautifully wrapped. Miles almost felt bad he was going to defile it. He slipped his cock into the hole in the side and made his way back toward the living room.
Miles felt a slight pinch at the base of his cock but he dismissed it as he pulled on a Christmas hat and stuck a large ribbon bow on his chest. There had probably just been a stray corner of wrapping paper, or something. Not to mention, the hole was a little bit snug, too.
Miles walked back to the living room, stood in front of Patrick, and said, "Merry Christmas, baby! You can open your eyes, now! Santa thought he’d change things up a bit and give you a naughty gift this year."
Patrick’s eyes widened as he took in Miles’ naked form. "Oh, my god," he said, clapping a hand over his mouth in shock before laughing out loud. "You did not just do what I think you just did," he said.
"I diiid!" said Miles, in a playful, sing-song tone.
Patrick laughed. "Alright, you rascal," he said. "Come over here and let me take a look at that present. It better be a big one. I’ve been a very good boy this year."
Miles chuckled and walked over to the couch with both hands pressing the box against his crotch. He hammed up the swagger and made sure Patrick could hear the heft of his cock as it slapped around on the inside of the box.
When he stopped right in front of Patrick, Miles thrust his hips forward just for good measure.
"Alright, big guy," said Patrick, patting the top of the box. "No need to get so aggressive with that thing. You might take an eye out, or something."
Miles just grinned.
Patrick rolled his eyes and smirked as he gently lifted the lid off the box. He looked inside, eyes widening, and said, "Oh my god."
"Like what you see, baby?" said Miles, waving his hips from side to side.
Patrick reached in and gently touched Miles’ cock. The bare brush of his fingertips against Miles’ length was enough to elicit a low moan.
Miles wasn’t supposed to be this sensitive but he wasn’t complaining." Oh, fuck yeah, baby," Miles breathed. "That feels so fucking a-amazing!"
The pleasure only redoubled as Patrick’s fingers loosely wrapped around Miles’ shaft. He didn’t know what was up but it felt so good. His cock had never felt this way before. "Oh yeah," Miles moaned, as Patrick tugged on his cock. "Play with it some more, baby. Pull it harder!"
Patrick did pull harder. He pulled hard enough that he pulled his hand all the way out of the box.
Miles’ brain short-circuited for a moment. What he was feeling made no sense with what he was seeing. Patrick was holding, in his hands, a large rubbery dildo, pretty much in the exact shape, size, and appearance of Miles’ cock and balls, and yet, Miles still felt Patrick’s hand on his cock.
In shock, Miles dropped the box. His eyes widened and he nearly fainted as he looked down at his crotch. He was completely smooth. There was nothing left of his cock and balls but a mound. "W-What the fuck?!" he exclaimed.
A small envelope which had been inside the box bounced out when it hit the floor and landed on Patrick’s foot. Miles hadn’t realized there was anything inside the box. He hadn’t bothered to look. He’d just stuck his dick in.
Patrick leaned down, dildo still in one hand, and picked up the envelope. Miles hissed as Patrick set the dildo down to open the flap on the letter. He could still feel everything that was happening to the dildo. It was the strangest thing.
"Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Miles!" said Patrick, reading out the small card that was inside the envelope. "We understand that this has been a trying year and that you haven’t been the best fiancé all this time."
Patrick laughed. "Isn’t that the truth?" he said, patting the dildo that had come to rest between his thighs.
Miles was about to say something but the sensation of his cock getting patted killed the words in his throat. He doubled over, furiously rubbing at the smooth mound between his legs, and moaned.
"We understand that your work is very important to you and that when it gets really hectic, it’s hard to put your loved ones first in your mind," Patrick continued.
Patrick was quiet for a little bit, idly stroking his fingers up and down the length of the dildo as he read ahead on the card. "Oh, wow. That’s really interesting. Listen to this, Miles. It says, ‘When a guy is running a successful business, it’s all too easy to forget to buy your fiancé anything for Christmas until just two days before.’"
"W-Wait, baby, p-please," Miles stammered, his knees buckling at the intense pleasure that was crashing through his body.
"Get a load of this, baby. ‘Don’t worry! We’re sure that your plan of lying about your package being delayed because of the virus—when really it’s delayed because you waited until the last minute—will work! And we’re here to help you make sure that you’re not empty-handed on Christmas Day!’" said Patrick, a dangerous glint in his eye as he continued to rub the dildo despite Miles’ protestations.
"There’s just a little bit more here that I think you’d like to hear: ‘We hope you enjoy one of our most popular products: our patented dick-in-a-box box! Because when you forget to buy a present for the most important person in your life, what better way to make it up to them than by sharing your most favorite toy with them, this year? We hope you have a very Merry Christmas with your beloved Patrick. Love, the Elves.’"
Patrick folded the flap back down over the card and picked up the dildo. He waved it toward Miles, looking simultaneously pissed and amused. "Is it true, Miles?" said Patrick. "Did you forget to buy me a present this year?"
"N-no, baby! I-I don’t—" Miles cut himself off with a high-pitched squeal as Patrick grabbed the rubber nutsack at the base of the dildo and squeezed. Miles knelt on the floor, panting, when Patrick finally let go. "Y-yes, baby," he mumbled, defeated, as he uselessly rubbed his mound.
"That’s okay," said Patrick, with a shrug. "I forgive you. It’s just a present, anyway. Our love is more important than that."
"R-really?" said Miles, looking up at Patrick with relief.
Patrick’s expression only hardened, though. "What I can’t forgive you for is that you lied to me," he said.
"I-I know, baby," said Miles, desperately. "I-I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I-I promise."
Patrick squeezed the shaft of the dildo.
"Hnnn!" Miles whined. "P-please, baby. I-I’ll make sure to remember n-next time!"
Patrick waved his hand in front of his face. "Yeah, I get it," he says. "You’re working hard to support us both. It’s easy to forget things like this, especially when it feels like the whole world is falling apart. I don’t blame you for forgetting."
Leaning forward, Patrick waved the dildo in front of Miles’ face. It was weird. Miles didn’t quite know what to feel about his own rubberized cock flopping around right in front of him.
"What I am mad about is that you felt like you couldn’t tell me this," said Patrick. "Like I would make a big deal out of something like that!"
"I-I know, baby. I-I was just so stressed. I-I wasn’t thinking straight. I-it won’t happen again. I-I promise!" Miles whimpered, as Patrick’s rough handling of his dildo-ized cock brought him dangerously close to the edge of orgasm.
Patrick got up from the couch. "Alright," he said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I believe you."
"T-thank you," said Miles. "C-can I have my cock back?" he mumbled.
"Let me think," said Patrick, walking around behind Miles. "You’ve been a bad boy, though. I think you deserve a little bit of punishment. And besides… you gave it to me, remember? I might as well play with it a little while I have it."
Miles’ eyes shot open as he felt Patrick kneel behind him and his own cock slide up and down the cleft of his ass cheeks. "W-wait, baby. W-what are you doing?" he stammered.
"Oh, nothing," said Patrick, with a chuckle. "It’s just… It feels so good when you fuck me… I kind of want you to feel what I feel, too… After all, it is the season of giving, after all."
"W-wait—!" Miles protested, as he felt the blunt head pressing at his rim.
Miles was a blubbering wreck by the time Patrick was done with him. He was a heap on the ground, facedown in a puddle of his drool, legs spread akimbo, ass high in the air, gaping, and twitching as a trickle of lube dribbled from his quivering rim.
As it turned out, a dildo-cock couldn’t come, no matter how long it fucked someone. Miles was so fucking horny and so goddamn desperate he could scream. Coming was the only thing he could think of. "P-please, baby… I-I need to come…" he whined.
"Say cheese, baby!" said Patrick. Miles looked up and saw that his fiancé was holding a polaroid camera in his hands.
Miles could only grunt. He couldn’t move a muscle. Not even to turn his face away from the camera.
There was a flash and Patrick laughed as he waved the developed picture in the air. "That’s fucking great," he said. "I think I’m gonna hang this up every Christmas from now on."
Miles whined. His cheeks burned at the humiliation but he didn’t even care. All he wanted was to come. He needed it. Craved it so badly.
"Too bad, baby," said Patrick. "It doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen while your cock’s made out of rubber. Better get used to it! If I read that note right, you’ve got another 364 days of this ahead of you."