Dinner for One (10 page)

His smile is nothing short of mischievous. “I’m sure what I have planned for later will make you forget.”

It’s predictably horrible, but Bastien laughs, almost snorts out the sip of wine he’s just taken. James looks so pleased with himself, and Bastien thinks for a moment that he really shouldn’t encourage him. He doesn’t see himself being able to resist any time in the near future, though. Not with the way James smiles, and his dimple digs into his cheek. He could possibly get drunk on that look alone.

“What do you write?” he thinks to ask a little later, realizing he’d forgotten to find out that first night. James’s face goes bright red, and Bastien arches his eyebrows in surprise. “Is it a secret?”

James opens his mouth, closes it. He scratches his chin. “Um,” he says. “I can just show you?” He sets his food aside and disappears down the hall, and he comes back a minute later with a thin paperback in his hand.

Bastien stares down at the half-clothed men on the cover. “Gay romance,” he says. He grins at James. “I would not have guessed.”

James shrugs, his face settling into a burned kind of red. “Among other things.”

“Can I read this?”

“If you want.” He looks like he’s about to say something else, but all he does is settle back in beside Bastien and comment on Rachel’s outfit. Bastien sets the book aside and joins in, shoveling food into his mouth between laughing and replying.

Bastien has just put the last bite in his mouth when James nudges him, sliding up against his side so they’re connected from shoulder to ankle. “I made cinnamon muffins for dessert, but I think if I eat anything else I’ll pop.” Bastien feels the same, but that doesn’t stop his mouth from watering.

“In an hour,” he says. “We rest for an hour, and then we eat them all.”

James laughs and starts kissing his neck, muttering, “Sounds like a plan,” into his skin.

Bastien tilts his head, stretching his neck out to give James more room. He sighs, eyes slipping closed as James tongues the sensitive spot behind his ear. His cock gives an interested twitch, trying to overcome Bastien’s food coma and rise to the occasion. “I don’t know if this would be considered resting,” he says, putting his hand on James’s thigh and rubbing.

“MOST RESTFUL
thing ever,” says James nonsensically, and tries to shove Bastien onto his side. He’s got a big couch, but it still takes a minute to situate two full-grown men lying comfortably facing each other. Absently he registers the sound of their empty bowls clattering to the rug. Bastien’s back is against the cushions, James curled around his front, his thigh shoved between Bastien’s. It’s a cozy position, but if they move wrong, he’s going to fall off the couch.

He tugs Bastien’s shirt collar to the side, revealing the arch of his collarbone. He kisses his way across it, delighting in the way Bastien shivers against him, the way his fingers dig into the muscles of James’s back. He likes the idea there might be bruises the next morning, faint but there.

Bastien grows bolder the longer James peppers his skin with searing kisses. He drags his hands down, cupping James’s ass and squeezing, and then he decides it would be better to touch James bare because he wiggles his hands beneath his waistband. James huffs into his neck, pushing back against Bastien’s firm grip. He sighs low when Bastien teasingly dips a finger into his crack, draws it slowly and fleetingly over his hole.

He nuzzles him, dragging his lightly stubbled face over Bastien’s neck, smiling when Bastien releases a soft moan. He repeats the motion, till when he pulls away, he can see dully red skin. He runs his thumb over it, rolling his hips against Bastien’s, laughing as Bastien whines and shoves forward.

“What do you want to do?” he asks, smoothing Bastien’s hair back from his face, letting the red strands caress his fingers. He pushes into Bastien’s tight grip on his ass, flexing his glutes. He can’t help but brush his lips over Bastien’s flushed cheeks, feeling the warmth of his blush against them. He doesn’t know why, but Bastien’s flush gets impressively darker, the red spreading to what James can see of his chest. His teeth sink into his lower lip, and his lashes flutter closed. James quirks an eyebrow, smirking. “That kinky, huh?”

“Uh,” says Bastien. He clears his throat. “The opposite?” He shifts restlessly against James, all long shaking limbs. James puts a hand on his hip and holds him still.

“Yeah?”

Bastien clears his throat again. “Can we just… like this?” he finally chokes out.

James runs a soothing hand up his side, bumping his fingers over Bastien’s shuddering ribcage. “The kissing?” he verifies. It’s been ages since he’s just made out with someone, humping on a couch and not taking clothes off. He’s not opposed to the idea, far from it. He dips his head to suck on Bastien’s jaw, worrying his skin with his teeth.

“Mhmm,” draws out Bastien, fingers clenching against him. “Like this.”

“I can do that,” says James against him, moving up to capture his lips. They’re slow as they kiss, taking their time, nothing but lazy swipes of their tongues and glacial rolls of their hips. Bastien doesn’t remove his hands from James’s pants, but he doesn’t try to do anything other than hold onto him.

James is painfully hard, his cock definitely wondering why the hell he’s not taking it out, but he drags his cloth-covered erection over Bastien’s stomach on an upward thrust, and he thinks, yeah, he can come from this. The answering thrust of Bastien’s hips lets him know it won’t be a problem for him either.

Their legs are tangled, bodies pressed together from head to toe. His clothes are starting to stick to him with sweat, clinging to his shifting muscles. Bastien shoves at his shoulders, making plaintive noises into his mouth. James pulls away so he can properly vocalize what he wants.

“Over me,” says Bastien, lips plump and red, shiny from James’s mouth.

James pushes himself up, bracing an arm on the couch, and tries to calm his racing heart as Bastien lets his ass go and shifts onto his back, looking eagerly up at him. When he flicks his gaze down the long length of his body he can see that Bastien’s legs are spread, waiting to cradle James’s hips there.

He drapes himself over Bastien, bracing his arms on either side of his head. Bastien licks his lips, rubs his foot over James’s calf. “Can you put all your weight on me?” he asks, tracing his fingers over James’s face, brushing one over his lips. James nips at the tip of it and lets his body bear down completely on Bastien.

There’s not a lot of leverage like that, but they make do.

He puts a hand in Bastien’s hair, the other on his neck, and he holds him steady as he ravishes his mouth. Beneath him Bastien provides friction with small jerks of his hips, brushing their clothed cocks alongside one another.

Bastien comes with a surprised sounding gasp, wet warmth blooming on his pants, his hands scrabbling over James’s back as he seeks purchase. James stops kissing him to tilt his head down and watch the way Bastien’s stomach ripples under his rucked up shirt as he comes. It’s a truly beautiful sight.

When he’s done he’s completely limp beneath him, mouth hanging open and slow puffs of air whistling out. He looks five seconds from falling asleep, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. James pushes up, planning to go to the bathroom and get a washcloth.

Bastien tangles their fingers together, weakly holding him in place, brows furrowing. “What about you?” he asks.

James bends down, kisses his sweat-slick forehead. He tastes like salt and the faintest hint of spice. “I’m good,” he says, and he really is. He’d love to come, but he likes Bastien like this, doesn’t feel that it’s imperative he interrupt this moment. He has a feeling there’s a lot more orgasms in his future; he can let this one slip. He has to rearrange himself in the bathroom before he comes back out, though. It’s going to take his dick a couple minutes to get with the program. When he returns to the living room, he cleans Bastien up and then pokes and prods him till he stands and starts to shuffle to James’s bedroom. He leaves his discarded pants and briefs next to the bowls on the floor.

“Just a little nap,” Bastien says muzzily. “I’ve got to work in the morning, and I need to feed Chloe.”

“I’ll let you nap for an hour or two, and then I’ll call a cab,” promises James, and thinks if that’s the case he should maybe try and wash Bastien’s pants.

Bastien makes grabby hands at him, and despite still being fully clothed himself, James slides into the bed next to him. He wraps an arm around Bastien and rests his cheek on the top of his head, breathing in the faintest apple scent of his shampoo. It takes Bastien less than a minute to fall asleep, his breathing easing into slow and steady inhales and exhales. He’s warm around James, and he thinks he could probably fall asleep if he closed his eyes.

But then he’d forget to wake Bastien up.

He waits a few minutes and then disentangles himself gently, pushing one of his pillows into the spot where he’d been. He smiles fondly as Bastien curls around it, red hair splaying out over the black fabric. Bastien looks gorgeous like this, his creamy skin standing out against James’s black sheets and royal blue comforter. It’s a sharp contrast, and James thinks he’d like to see Bastien like this all the time.

If he doesn’t leave the room now, he’s going to climb back into that bed.

He goes out into the living room, turns off the television, and then picks up their dishes. He’s grateful for the dark rug; he can barely see the sauce stains. He’ll have to get it cleaned eventually. He leaves everything on the counter beside the sink and goes back to grab Bastien’s clothes. He makes sure the pockets are empty before he tosses them in the wash. If he gives Bastien two hours to sleep, his clothes will be dry by then.

He idles away the time, trying not to think about how amazing things are and how they probably wouldn’t be if Bastien knew all of what he did for a living. Who he really is. Other than the romance novels. That’s just a side job. A hobby. Maybe Laurence and Marcy are onto something. If he waits, a little bit longer, Bastien might like him enough to overlook it. He’d come so close to telling him. The perfect opportunity had been laid right at his feet, but he couldn’t bring his mouth to form the words.

He needs time. He’ll be able to spit it out then.

He cleans the dishes and reads the latest Stephen King novel while he waits for the washer to ding, trying to distract himself from the guilt that prods at his insides. He’s not lying, and he’s going to tell Bastien. He’s merely waiting. He switches the clothes to the dryer when it goes off, and afterward he goes back to his room and looks inside. He smiles fondly when he sees Bastien has sprawled himself out, the pillow tucked tightly beneath him, the bedding pooled around his hips. His mouth is parted slightly, quiet snores coming from him.

If he plans better next time, Bastien might stay the night. The thought gives him butterflies. He’d really like that. It’s an effort to drag himself from the doorway, but it’s weird to just stand there and watch him sleep.

Back in the kitchen, he pulls out the cinnamon muffins, eating one of them over the sink. He’ll put a couple on a plate and wake Bastien up with them. He grabs a container and sticks a few in there for good measure as well. He doesn’t need an entire tray of muffins in his place. His self-control isn’t that good.

When the clothes are done drying, he takes them out and drops them on the end of his bed, before going back to grab the muffins. He arranges himself against the black padded headboard and sits one of the muffins right in front of Bastien’s snoozing face. He laughs quietly when Bastien’s nose twitches, and a second later his dark lashes flutter as he blearily peaks out from beneath them.

Bastien makes a noise that’s a cross between a moan and a sigh, and then he sticks his tongue out to lick off some of the cinnamon crumbs. That makes James laugh loudly. “You’re going to get crumbs all over my bed.”

Bastien doesn’t look like he cares as he gives a sleepy smile and repeats the action. James tugs the muffin away, cheeks hurting from how wide he’s smiling when Bastien makes a noise of discontent. “Mean,” he mutters, flopping to his back. He pats his chest, his shirt wrinkled and the first few buttons undone. “Set it here.”

James does as he’s told and watches as Bastien tries to eat the muffin upside down. It’s a pretty sad sight. He scoots closer and takes the muffin back, breaking off a piece and holding it to Bastien’s lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

Bastien smiles sunnily up at him. “Got you trained already.”

He makes sure to pop the next bite into his own mouth while Bastien looks on in dismay. He chews exaggeratedly and moans around the mouthful. He pats his stomach. “Mmmmm.”

“I was kidding,” says Bastien, widening his blue eyes dramatically.

“Sure you were,” says James, but he drops the next piece in Bastien’s open mouth anyway.

Chapter Seven

THEY’VE BEEN
“dating” for two weeks, when it occurs to Bastien that mostly they’re just having a lot of sex at each other’s home. Not that there’s anything wrong with that—there isn’t, it’s absolutely fantastic, no complaints on his part. It’s just… they haven’t actually gone out. And he hadn’t thought anything of it, but then his sister had to open her big mouth.

Fleur is staring at him, a pen tucked behind her ear and a glitter gun in her hand. The table is a mess of arts and crafts. He doesn’t know how to tell her he’s been dating a guy, but they haven’t been on any actual dates. He feels stupid for just realizing it.

“Bastien?”

He shakes his head. Right, she asked him a question. “We haven’t, uh, we… that is to say… we haven’t gone out?”

She blinks at him. “You’ve been dating for two weeks, and you haven’t gone out? What’ve you been doing?” Her face flushes the moment her mouth closes, and she holds up her hand in a stop gesture. “Don’t answer that. I’m pretty sure I know the answer.”

He smiles sheepishly and shrugs, looking down. “We make dinner every time?” he tries. “That’s date-like.” It’s definitely a romantic thing he’s seen people in movies do a lot.