Christmas Eve came quietly this year, as it had for some years now. Not saying that's a bad thing mind you, after 360 some days of going nuts, screaming, yelling, working your ass off, some quite time would always be welcome. No kids screaming at the top of their lungs. No chaos of having to go outside with people. No last-minute scrambling for this or for that. Yeah, definitely a good thing. Peaceful and relaxing. Just steady snowfall and the low hum of a house that had been lived in for some time now, the one they had been sharing for so many years it no longer felt like something either of them had ever moved into. It simply existed, like it had always been theirs. The snow wasn’t loud or dramatic either. It didn’t swirl or howl. It fell gently, steadily, the kind that softened edges and muted the world. The kind that made everything feel wrapped up tight, like that ugly Christmas sweater Cody refused to get rid of no matter how many times Evan threatened it.
The only real difference this year? The yard somehow looked smaller than it used to? Maybe it wasn’t the yard at all? Maybe they were just bigger now. They were older, sure. Their thirties had settled into them comfortably, without hurry or regret. But they were broader, heavier in a way that spoke of years spent lifting, working, living. Their bodies carried muscle that hadn’t been rushed or faked, this was real muscled, muscle earned slowly, deliberately, layered over time. They were also worn in. In all the best ways. Cody stepped outside first, boots crunching softly in the snow. The ugly Christmas sweater stretched tight across a body that had only grown denser with the years. Not showy. Not sculpted for mirrors. Just solid and manly as hell. According to Evan. his man, yeah, he was still thick. Still undeniably bear-strong. Man-strong. His shoulders filled the doorway. His chest pressed against the knit fabric. His stomach, still powerful, still legendary, sat beneath it, broader now, built for endurance instead of flash. His hands were bigger too, rougher, the knuckles carrying faint reminders of old gym nights and long workdays. The beard was fuller than it used to be. Dark still, but dusted with gray now, just enough to catch if you knew where to look. Just enough to make Evan smile every time he noticed a new streak. Something about Cody again like fine wine really did it for Evan... and Evan wouldn’t have it any other way.
Speaking of Evan...
Evan followed him outside a moment later, tugging his hoodie tighter around his thicker frame. He wasn’t the lean kid he once been, hell no, not even close. His shoulders had broadened to match Cody’s. His arms filled out sleeves without effort. His stance carried quiet confidence now, grounded and sure. The boy had become a man, and he really grew into himself. Cody had seen every inch of that growth, the years of work, the setbacks, the determination, the slow realization that he didn’t have to chase anyone anymore. That alone was a turn on, but the muscled body that could rip logs in half? That helped...
They stood there together in the snow, breath fogging, the house warm and glowing behind them. No words needed yet. Just the quiet understanding that some traditions didn’t fade with age, not that they would want it too...
“You ready?” Evan asked, voice light, teasing.
Cody smirked. “Same question every year boy.”
A tease with no venom, a show they put on every year. They stood facing each other in the snow like they always had. No crowd. No ceremony. Just the two of them and a tradition that had somehow survived their twenties, their moves, their fights, their growth. Something that became very much, them.
Cody opened his arms. “Go on. Unwrap it.”
Evan didn’t rush, he never did anymore. Sure there was a time Evan eagerly rushed it, to get to the punching part, to prove if he was the man this year. But not anymore. No, this had turned into something they both wanted to enjoy, savor over, take each moment and make it last forever. He stepped close, hands firm as he slid the sweater up and over Cody’s head. He made no attempt to hide his hand brushing over skin as he did so, brushing over muscle, over hair. When it came off, Cody stood there shirtless in the cold like it was nothing, chest broad, hair thick, abs still there but heavier now, built for endurance more than show. Evan smiled. Not the eager grin of a kid trying to prove something. A calm, confident smile.
“You know...” Evan said quietly, “I’ve been waiting for this one.”
Cody chuckled. “You say that every—”
Evan stepped in and swung, not even letting Cody finish his words. It was deep, it was powerful, it was straight to the center. Evan took charge, and commanded. Cody was bricked up almost instantly, but he was also not a one punch and done guy.
THUD.
Another blow, another punch, the sound was deeper than it used to be. It was the kind of impact that didn’t ask permission. The kind that sank past surface strength and went straight to the core. He tightened his abs on reflex, muscle memory kicking in before thought, locking everything down the way he had for years. Cody felt it, it hurt, but he stayed upright. Evan didn’t even look to see if it worked. Another punch followed, same spot, same precision. Then another. Then another.... They came in waves, each measured. Each controlled. Each heavy. Cody fought to hold himself back, to hold it in, because damn this was a experience. Each strike landed strong and landing deep, Evan’s shoulders rolling smoothly, hips turning just enough to drive power forward. There was no wasted movement now. No wild swings. This was a man who knew exactly where to hit and how hard he could hit.
Cody’s breath changed.
Just a fraction at first, a sharper inhale, a slower exhale. He masked it behind a grin, behind posture, behind habit. He’d been doing this long enough to know how to hide discomfort. But this wasn’t eighteen.
This wasn’t even twenty-five. No, this was something else. This was the start of Evan showing that this year? This year might actually be different. Evan stepped closer, closing the space, and dug in. A hook tore into Cody’s ribs. Solid, compact, right where the muscle met bone. Cody’s torso tightened hard around it, but the warmth bloomed instantly beneath the skin. A hook to the center, testing the literal center piece of the ab wall. Then another hook, opposite side ribs from before. Then a cross straight into the lower belly. Cody’s abs clamped down, or at least tried to, the impact still pushed inward. He felt it spread, deep and heavy, a burn that lingered longer than it should have.
Evan didn’t slow, if anything he was on a roll.
A short upper shot to the upper abs. Then another dead center. Each hit stacked on the last. Not explosive but definitely relentless. Evan was digging, carving, wearing the armor down piece by piece. Cody exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening just slightly.
Okay, he thought. That one fucking hurt.
The warmth in his core wasn’t fading between strikes anymore. It was building, getting intense, muscle heating, tightening, protesting. His abs still held, still locked, but they weren’t springing back the way they used to. Evan saw it, he knew it.
Evan pressed in harder.
A body hook sank into the ribs again. Then another. Then a heavy straight into the center that forced Cody’s breath out in a sharp, involuntary sound before he could stop it. He followed with another punch , and another, alternating levels, keeping Cody guessing, never letting the muscle fully relax before the next impact landed. Cody’s abs burned now. Not the familiar workout burn. Something deeper. Something tired.
“You okay?” Evan asked, half-grinning, already lining up another shot.
Cody laughed. “Don’t you stop now.”
So Evan didn’t.
Every punch continued landing with purpose and raw power. Cody’s abs continued tightened, loosened, tightened again. His breathing grew heavier, fog spilling faster into the cold air. Evan didn’t stop, rather he let loose in the way someone does when they finally trust their own strength. Another punch drove into the place Cody had always been strongest. Evan felt it immediately this time. Not the familiar stone wall resistance. Not that sharp recoil that used to shoot straight back into his knuckles. The muscle gave. Just a little. But enough. Holy shit.... Cody’s abs still tightened, still tried to rise and lock, but the timing was off now. The flex came a fraction too late, the wall no longer seamless. Evan watched it happen, watched thick muscle ripple outward from the point of impact instead of swallowing it whole. He swallowed hard, that hadn’t happened before.
Holy shit indeed.
He stepped in again. A heavy shot to the lower belly. Cody exhaled sharply this time, breath dragged out of him as his torso dipped without permission. Evan’s eyes widened. Another punch. Then another. Each one landed deep, and the feedback kept changing. The muscle still strong, still impressive, but no longer untouchable. The surface tension softened between hits. The abs didn’t rebound as cleanly. The ripples lingered instead of snapping back into place. Cody’s stance adjusted again. Wider now. Knees bending more than before. He was still trying to hold the line, Evan could see it in the way Cody kept his shoulders squared, jaw set, pride refusing to give ground. But the truth was written plainly across his midsection. The armor was failing. Evan paused just long enough to breathe, chest heaving, arms burning, then stepped in one more time, turning his hips and driving everything he had into the strike. The punch landed with a dull, heavy sound. Not sharp. Not clean. But weighted.
Cody’s abs compressed visibly, muscle rolling inward instead of locking. His whole torso reacted now, shock traveling through him as he bent again, deeper this time, breath leaving him in a rough gasp he didn’t even try to hide. Evan stared, after all these years, after all the snow, the laughter, the bruised knuckles and quiet hope he’d never spoken out loud? He might actually do it.
No, he thought, He would do it!
Then one punch landed just right.
Not louder than the others.
Not faster.
Just complete, like the period at a end of sentience.
Evan stepped in close enough that there was no space to bleed the force away. His feet were planted, knees bent, weight settled fully beneath him. He turned his hips and drove forward, fist tight, wrist straight, everything aligned behind the strike. The punch sank straight into Cody’s center. It did not not bounce like it normally would of. It didn't glance off the ab wall like, well always. No, that fist? It Gods damn buried. Cody felt it punch past the surface tension of his abs, past the flex he been holding out of habit, and into something deeper, muscle already burning, already tired, already worked raw from everything Evan had thrown before. Sure for a split second, his abs tried to respond. They clenched hard, reflexive, every ridge and layer snapping tight like they always had. But it still happened, then the force hit anyway, the force passed threw everything. The impact sent a visible ripple through his torso, not overly dramatic, not overly exaggerated, but truly real. The thick wall of muscle compressed inward, shock traveling outward through his ribs, up into his chest, down into his hips. His breath vanished instantly, knocked clean out of him in a sharp, silent burst.
His body folded before his mind could argue, Cody doubled over. For the first time in all the years they done this, there was no way to hide it. No posture to save. No breath to fake. The snow crunched beneath his boots as he staggered half a step, breath dragging back in slow and sharp, chest heaving once as his body caught up to what had already happened.
Evan froze.
"Oh.....okay.... yeah,” Cody wheezed, laughing through it. “Alright. You got me.”
Evan froze for half a second, disbelief flashing across his face.
“I.....wait.....really?”
Cody straightened slowly, still grinning, still breathing hard, eyes bright with something fierce and joyful.
“Yeah” he said, proud as hell. “You broke it.”
Evan laughed, throwing his arms up in the air like he was some kind of prize boxer.
“I’ve been trying to do that for, like, fifteen years?”
“And you finally did!” Cody said, stepping forward and pulling Evan into a quick, solid hug. No ceremony. Just warmth. “Took you long enough.”
There was no ego left in it, not like there was ever was. No there was only ever one thing, pride.
Cody looked down at the man Evan had become, strong, steady, confident, and felt his chest tighten in a way no punch ever could.
“I’m so damn proud of you” he said simply.
Evan smiled up at him, snow settling into his hair. “Yeah?”
“Yeah...” Cody said, still laughing. “Now get inside before we both freeze our balls off.”
They went back toward the house together, shoulders bumping, still laughing like idiots, the tradition finally complete. Even better, it was complete not because Cody lost… but because Evan had grown enough to win.
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