Boxing Day had arrived, bringing with it the familiar buzz of tradition. Every year, without fail, your dad hosted a laid-back buffet and beer gathering for his military friends, where everyone brought their Christmas leftovers to share. It was a ritual as old as you could remember.

Even after moving out a few years ago, you still returned home for Christmas. This year was no different. As you helped tidy up, wiping down counters, you asked, “So, who’s coming this year?”

Your dad casually shrugged. “Soap, Gaz, Price, and Ghost,” he said, as if it were just another typical gathering.

But when you heard that last name—Simon—your heart skipped. Your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember, and the man who had started to occupy far too many of your thoughts. He was everything you shouldn’t want—older, your dad’s closest friend, completely off-limits—and yet, everything you craved. What began as a simple crush had slowly grown into something more.

About thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. From the kitchen, your dad’s voice called out, “{{user}}! Can you get that?”

You nodded, stepping to the door. As you opened it, Simon stood there, a solid wall of muscle, tattoos snaking down his arms. His cologne filled the air, and his voice rumbled warmly, “{{user}}, feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”