Gideon did look at him then, eyes narrowing and lips turning down in a frown because there was likely always an imminent threat. Cole could not imagine having to shoulder that responsibility. Maybe he should give Gideon a break. It was Christmas, after all.

“Look, I don’t want to have the same old argument all fucking over again,” he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “At the end of the day, I’m not going to leave you because being with you is dangerous. We already established that. We already established it would be more dangerous at this point for me to leave you.”

Gideon’s frown deepened because another one of his deep, deep anxieties was that Cole feels trapped with him.

“What is going to fuck up our relationship, though, is if you don’t start telling me about the shit that has to do with me. A simple ‘Hey, I’m going to introduce you to some people who you might have to go stay with if things get nuts back home’ is not going to make me lose it, but turning it into a clandestine operation is, okay?”

“Okay,” Gideon said, hopeful because he could see a light at the end of the tunnel in the finality of Cole’s voice. “Okay, baby. I won’t do that again.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Cole grumbled, but mostly to himself because he wanted their fight to end. Gideon approached slowly, not saying anything, not apologizing. He’d made that mistake before, and Cole melted down all over again because he knew that Gideon was only sorry that Cole found out about his nonsense and got upset.

“Do you still want to watch a Christmas movie?” he asked.

Cole pursed his lips. He let himself feel indignant and upset for a moment longer, then let it all go. He couldn’t complain too much because having bits of his life managed this way came with the territory of being with someone as controlling as Gideon. Having a bodyguard at his side all the time was not so bad when he considered that it meant he got to go to his studio and do essentially whatever the hell else he wanted to do. It would take time for Gideoon to realize that Cole felt that way and wouldn’t disappear because things got too scary.

And deep, deep down, he liked that Gideon was controlling and protective and all that shit.

“How about we exchange one of our presents tonight?”

“Sure, whatever you want.”

A little piece of Cole wanted to roll his eyes because he always got whatever he wanted right after a fight, but a large part of him felt warm and fuzzy.

“Okay, I know exactly which one to give you,” Cole bounded toward the mountain of presents and pawed through them for the little set of boxes wrapped in blue paper with ice skates on them and held together by a white bow. Gideon trailed after and looked over the selection. The number of gifts below the tree for Cole far outnumbered the amount for Gideon, although Cole would bet a billion that half of them were lingerie and other shit for him to dress up in.

Gideon finally selected a gift and joined him on the couch.

“You first,” Cole insisted, shoving the gift toward him. He ended up with a lapful of his own gift bag and fought the urge to shake it the way that Gideon was doing with his gift. Gideon hummed theatrically.

“Stop,” Cole kicked him and laughed, “Just open it.”

He chuckled, maybe feeling relieved that Cole’s earlier upset had evaporated quickly. His big fingers worked quickly to untie the bow and discard the ribbon so he could get at the boxes. Under Cole’s instruction, he opened the smaller one on top first and held up a key.

“Okay,” Cole clasped his hands together to try to contain his giddiness, but it still came out in a little quiver in his voice. “Now you have to guess.”

But Gideon already had a shark grin on his face as he eyed the key, all teeth and danger. He looked between it and Cole, probably already knowing exactly what that was the key to. “Oh, baby.”

Cole swallowed.

“Baby,” Gideon did not even bother guessing. He began to unwrap the other box. “You are about to be in big trouble. Are you sure?”

“Mhm,” Cole had debated for a long while, then decided to go for it. Gideon had been controlling his orgasms for months now anyway. It was his latest obsession, commanding Cole not to touch himself so that the only time he orgasmed was when Gideon had his hands on him, and sometimes he made him wait a week or more for satisfaction.

So, when Gideon held up the little metal cock cage, his eyes lit up like, well, like a kid on Christmas morning opening his presents. Yeah, Cole was in big trouble.

“You are not allowed to put that thing on me until after Christmas,” he waggled a finger, then amended, “Until after New Year’s.”

Gideon set the cock cage and key aside gently and said nothing, probably planning something diabolical like locking Cole up for an entire week for every one of the twelve days of Christmas that he wasn’t allowed to play with his new toy. But he nodded, “Thank you. I’m going to have much fun with that.”

That sounded more like a threat than anything else, but Cole would have fun with it, too.

“Open yours,” Gideon gestured to the bag in Cole’s lap.

He immediately started ripping the tissue paper out of the bag and tossing it everywhere.

“Is it paints?” He asked excitedly. There were paints somewhere, probably thousands of dollars worth because a couple of weeks ago, Elijah casually asked Cole what his favorite brand of oil paint was, something he had never shown an interest in before. As soon as he reported it, Gideon probably bought the whole line of colors.

But what he pulled out of the bag was not paint. It was a narrow, hard case. He furrowed his brow and undid the claps securing the lid. Inside, on a dark bed of firm foam, lay a small silver gun. He looked up at Gideon.

“Somewhere else in there,” he waved at the mountain of presents, “Is a concealed carry permit for you.”

This was exactly the kind of thing Cole was talking about. Didn’t people usually have to take classes and apply for themselves to get concealed carry permits? From what he understood, fingerprinting and other nonsense were involved. Background checks. But Gideon had arranged it all for him already so that he didn’t have to be involved in the process.

He opened his mouth to ask if it was a real permit or a forgery but shut it again. He knew it was real, even if Gideon had pulled a bunch of strings with the cops to get it done. The gun itself was gorgeous, the silver sides engraved in a delicate filigreed design and inlaid with shiny bits of pearl or something that looked like it. Along the barrel, in lovely sweeping handwriting that Cole recognized as Gideon’s, was his full name, Nikolas.

He wasn’t sure what to say, but he could not find it in himself to be upset because this somehow felt like Gideon handing him a little bit of agency. Sure, Cole has a bodyguard up his ass all the time, but he also now has a handgun so he can protect himself if it comes down to it. Although, Gideon was probably banking on the fact that it would never come to it, and this was all symbolic.

“You trust me with this?”

“I also got you a membership at the shooting club,” Gideon said. “You are going to learn how to use it.”

Cole eyed him. Maybe it wasn’t just symbolic. Maybe he should be concerned that Gideon is setting up safehouses and teaching him to use guns. But for now, he was just happy Gideon had enough confidence in him to give him a gun.

“It’s very beautiful,” he lifted it off the foam with careful hands. Its weight was more than he expected for such a small gun, and it fit comfortably into the palm of his hand. “I do know how to shoot, actually.”

He kept the barrel pointed away from Gideon and his finger off the trigger as he lifted it and pointed at the star atop the tree to look down the sights.

“There were always guns around whenever my dad was out of prison when I was little,” he shared, lowering the pistol. “I wasn’t allowed to touch them, but he also made sure I knew how to use them and how dangerous they were so I wouldn’t get curious on my own.”

“Very responsible of him,” Gideon said in a carefully neutral tone.

The engraving felt nice beneath the pad of Cole’s thumb as he stroked the design. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby.”

“You’ll tell me if I’m in danger, right?” he asked in a small voice, eyes locked on the sloping curve of his name. “You won’t try to hide it from me for my own protection or some shit?”

Gideon stayed silent for a solid minute, trying to figure out some kind of wording that would appease Cole but still give him some wiggle room to be the controlling mob boss that he was at heart. Finally, he settled on, “If you are safer knowing about the danger, then I will tell you.”

Cole did not like that very much. It was still very need-to-know. But he figured it was the best he would get right now.

“Let’s watch something before going to bed, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” Cole agreed.

They settled on Elf, shoving all the wrappings and tissue paper from the presents onto the floor. Gideon lay on his back across the couch with Cole tucked up against his side, head laying on his chest. One of his hands slid up and down Cole’s upper arm.

About halfway through the movie, when Cole started to feel heavy and sleepy after all the excitement of running around in the snow and arguing, Gideon spoke softly. “You know that you can trust me to keep you safe, right?”

Of course, Cole not having complete and utterly blind faith in him equated to not thinking Gideon could protect him. Cole wondered if this was just one of those things he would have to give up on and settle on a compromise. Gideon would let him carry around his pretty engraved handgun that he would never have to use because all the threats remained far removed and unknown to him.

“Yeah,” Cole agreed because he did know that Gideon would probably die to protect him. He would kill his own brother to protect him. “I know that.”

Gideon dropped a kiss on the top of his head, and he snuggled closer.