Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door (11 page)

"There, that should be done in about forty-five minutes," Stephen announced as he closed the oven door. "What should we do while we wait?"

"I can think of a few things."

"We can't lose track of time," Stephen warned. "If we burn this, I'll be heartbroken."

"Why heartbroken? If we burn it, we can just get some pizza."

"I don't want to try to impress you with my amazing pizza ordering skills."

"What if I ordered the pizza? Would it impress you? Also... impress me?"

"Yes."

"You want to impress me?" Jay asked.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I want to impress you?"

"Because... well, I'm already impressed."

Stephen wrapped his arm around Jay's waist and pulled him closer. Jay was just a few inches taller than Stephen, and he had to tilt his head back to reach Jay's mouth. Stephen tasted fresh and warm, the barest hint of garlic on his lips and hovering above his skin. Jay closed his eyes, nudging his tongue past Stephen's lips. Jay had kissed Stephen until his mouth was sore the night before, but this kiss was new and heady as their first. Stephen's arm tightened around him. Jay couldn't help but seek out the heat of his skin, his fingers gathering the hem of Stephen's shirt and gliding across the newly exposed skin on his lower back. The food could burn. All the food could burn. Jay didn't care, as long as he had Stephen wrapped securely in his arms and moaning in encouragement while Jay plundered his mouth.

"Let's sit down," Stephen suggested.

Jay nodded and practically dragged Stephen across the room to the couch. They fell on it together, feet tangling and fingers searching for purchase. Jay lay back, pulling Stephen over him. He liked the way Stephen felt when his weight was settled on him and his mouth was heavy and hot and demanding. His cock was already pressing to his fly, insistent and aching, but Jay ignored it. He definitely wanted to feel Stephen's hand down his pants, but that could wait. In the meantime, Jay was more interested in exploring Stephen's mouth, reminding himself of all the curves and textures even though he never had the chance to forget them. Stephen cupped Jay's face between his palms, his fingertips caressing him in tiny circles while his tongue plunged in and out of Jay's mouth. Stephen was a good and thorough kisser. Jay had learned that fact at Brewvies, and he was more than happy to have confirmation of it now. Jay had never kissed anybody before Saturday, but he felt like he couldn't ask for a better teacher.

Forty-five minutes passed in a blink of an eye. Jay felt like they just really got started when the alarm on Stephen's watch went off in a series of high-pitched beeps.

Stephen lifted his head, his eyes wide with excitement. "Stay right here, I'll go check on that."

Jay nodded, his gaze never leaving Stephen as he hurried back to the kitchen. Jay hadn't really noticed the aroma before, but his small apartment was positively redolent with the scent of garlic and lamb. The lamb in particular made his mouth water. As far as Jay knew, nothing so delicious had ever been prepared in his apartment. It almost felt like a day that should be marked in the calendar and commemorated every year thereafter. Or maybe Jay just wanted to have an excuse to celebrate Stephen like he deserved.

"It needs to sit for five or ten minutes. I'm going to make the salad."

Jay grimaced a little at that, but fortunately Stephen didn't see him. He wasn't a big fan of vegetables, in salad form or otherwise. It was probably because he'd never developed a taste for them as a kid. His grandmother only made peas from the can, and they were always brown and mushy. Just the thought of biting into a spoonful of that atrocity made Jay's stomach churn. His mother had been a bit better, in that she bought frozen green beans and corn, but they were always relegated to the side of the plate in small spoonfuls, studiously ignored until he'd eaten everything else and he could legitimately claim to be too full to eat another bite. But Stephen clearly didn't use frozen or canned products. Maybe vegetables were great in their natural state. Jay couldn't even remember the last time he had a fresh salad.

"Did you bring dressing for it?" Jay asked.

"Something better than that. I'm going to make my own vinaigrette."

"Wow. You're really going all out here."

Stephen stuck his head out from the kitchen door. "It doesn't really take that much effort to make a good vinaigrette. Do you like mushrooms?"

"Sure."

Jay abandoned the couch in favor of the kitchen, telling himself that he was just going to offer to help Stephen, and he was in no way missing him. It would be insane to be lonely for a person who was literally in the next room. They were even having a conversation without raising their voices to be heard. But the fact was, Jay did miss Stephen terribly and felt relief rushing through him like a fresh breeze drifting through a stuffy room at the sight of him bent over the chopping board.

"How's school been this week?" Stephen asked without looking up.

"School? I don't know, I barely noticed it."

"Why?"

"Because I was too busy thinking of you."

Stephen smiled at the mushrooms he was cutting in perfectly even slices. "That's sweet, but I don't want to be the reason you stop caring about school."

"It's just nice to have something else to think about for once. I feel like... you know, I've been living in books my entire life. It's nice to be a part of the real world, for once. Honestly, that's the whole reason I went to grad school. I realized nobody else was going to pay me to read."

"Well, that's not exactly true, is it? You could be paid to review books. Or work for a publisher."

"There aren't a lot of publishers in Utah," Jay pointed out.

"There are publishers in New York."

"I don't live in New York."

"No, but the point is, you could. If you really wanted to do something else, you could move to New York. Or anywhere, really."

"I don't know. It might be too late for that. I guess in your heart you'll always be a chef, and in my heart I'll be an editor."

Stephen's lovely mouth pulled into a frown. "That... actually sounds pretty depressing."

"You're the one who said cooking is just a hobby."

"I know, but... well, my point is, Jay, that you should try to do what makes you feel happy. If being a professor or whatever doesn't make you happy... "

"Who said it doesn't?" Jay asked. "I never said that."

Stephen licked his lips. "Yeah, you're right. I just assumed because... well, I shouldn't assume."

"I don't know if it makes me happy," Jay admitted. "I always thought I'd have all these questions worked out by now. Like, the passage of time would be enough to get my head on straight. But I don't feel like I have any answers. I feel like I have momentum, and I don't know how to swing that momentum in another direction. So I just keep going forward in a straight line and force myself to have tunnel vision."

"I know exactly what you mean. Green peppers good?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to bring my ice cream maker next time."

"You make ice cream?"

"Yes. Though I usually can't convince anybody to try my experimental flavors. They're not exactly Ben & Jerry's."

"Like what?"

"I'm perfecting a basil and rose water combination right now." Stephen laughed at the grimace on Jay's face. "It tastes really good, I promise you."

"It sounds like it tastes like a bathroom air freshener."

"Oh, not quite as delicious as that."

"Let me guess, you don't like store bought ice cream, either."

"Nope. Too sweet for me now. If you give up sugar like that, even diet sodas start to taste too sweet."

"I honestly can't imagine not wanting Ben & Jerry's."

"You'll be able to imagine that quite well after I make you a batch of my stuff. Now go sit down and I'll get this all dished up."

"You're my guest. Shouldn't I be serving you?"

"I've got to plate my own food."

Jay smiled. "Like this is
Top Chef
?"

"Yes, exactly like that. Everything has to look just right. You do most of your eating with your eyes, you know."

Jay couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything with his eyes. Most of the time, he didn't even glance at the food before scarfing it down.

Stephen did a rather nice job of plating the food and, as Jay admired the careful balance of color and portions, he had to admit that it did make a difference. He was already imagining the crispy potato between his teeth and the succulent pieces of lamb on his tongue before he took the first bite. Stephen continued to exceed every expectation that Jay might have placed on him, proving himself to be an amazingly awesome cook. Stephen watched him a little anxiously as he took his first bite, and that nervous light in his eyes didn't dim, even after Jay smiled at him.

"I can't believe you did this in my kitchen."

"You like it, then?"

"It's amazing, Stephen. Now that I know what you're capable of, you're never going to get rid of me."

"Ah, then my evil plan worked."

"Your evil plan was to bind me to you with excellent food?"

"That was one stage of the plan. You'll note that I also used excellent conversation and excellent sex to round things out."

Mention of the excellent sex was enough to distract Jay from the food entirely, but he didn't think Stephen would appreciate it if he sat his full plate aside and attacked Stephen's neck while he tried to eat. "You're truly an evil genius."

"That's what I've been saying for years, but nobody believes me. I think it's the genius part they have a problem with."

"No, definitely the evil part. There's no way anybody would ever think you evil."

"Even if I'm doing something evil?"

Jay shook his head. "I don't believe you've ever done anything evil in your life."

"That's only because you don't know me that well."

"I do, though." Jay realized that his declaration sounded a little too impassioned, and looked back down to his plate. "I mean, we've had a lot of conversations the past few days, haven't we? I can't think of anybody I know better than you."

"I feel the same about you," Stephen admitted softly. "Now you better eat before the potatoes get cold. There's nothing worse than cold and soggy potatoes, right?"

They ate in companionable silence only occasionally broken by a comment from Stephen or a question from Jay. They didn't turn on the television, either, which forced Jay to concentrate on his plate and what he was eating. He felt the first twinge of fullness while there was still at least half his serving on the plate, but he didn't quite want to stop eating. Full or not, this was the most delicious thing he'd ever put in his mouth. Even the salad was amazing. He never realized that lettuce could have flavor and vegetables could have texture. The raw mushrooms were a little too much for him to handle, but everything else had a bright, vibrant freshness to it. It was such a far cry from the canned and frozen, overcooked stuff he was accustomed to that he didn't think it was fair to categorize them in the same food group.

When they were both finished, Jay stood and took their plates to the kitchen. He paused long enough to grab two beers from the fridge--bought especially for entertaining company that night--and when he returned, Stephen was sprawled out on the couch half-naked.

"You're missing your shirt," Jay said.

"I know. It just fell right off."

"It fell off?"

"Yep."

"Just like that huh?"

"Just like that," Stephen said, taking the offered beer from Jay. "Hasn't that ever happened to you before?"

"Honestly. No. You better hope that doesn't happen to you in the winter. You'll freeze."

"Hopefully it'll only happen when you're around to keep me warm," Stephen said, pulling Jay down to the couch. Jay lost no time in touching Stephen, eager to touch every inch of his smooth chest and shoulders. He really didn't have enough time to study Stephen the night before, and now he wanted to make up for that. He wanted to learn every bit of him by touch and sight. He wanted to find the birthmarks and the freckles that he couldn't feel. He wanted to rub Stephen's nipple with the pad of his thumb and watch the flesh slowly harden into a peak perfect for Jay's mouth. The only thing better than Stephen's shirt mysteriously falling off would be if his pants followed.

Stephen arched his back under Jay's hand and mouth, sighing with every new caress, his fingers threading through Jay's hair and traveling down his back. He wanted to bend his spine and push himself into the touch like a demanding cat. His shirt felt so rough where it rubbed against his chest and tightening nipples. It was just a regular T-shirt, but compared to Stephen's silky skin, it felt like a hair suit. He could almost imagine it scraping his skin raw as he continued to move over Stephen's body. The night before, with nothing between them, it had felt so good. His nerve endings still tingled at the memory of it, and his hunger to feel it again almost overwhelmed every other thought.

Stephen might have sensed which direction Jay's mind was going, because his fingers caught the material and he slowly, deliberately, dragged it up Jay's back. Jay buried his face in Stephen's neck and didn't protest the touch, though he still didn't feel entirely comfortable losing his clothes. Stephen's fingers were light and playful, sending bolts of desire through him with every touch and promising so much more. If Jay would just let him remove the shirt, would just trust him that far, he would be rewarded for it. That's what Stephen told him with each careful touch, and now that Jay had his face buried against Stephen's neck and his cock pressing to Stephen's hip, he could almost believe it.

Jay acted quickly, sitting up and lifting his shirt over his head. Stephen's eyes widened with surprise as the clothing fell to the floor, but Jay didn't give him a chance to study Stephen's face for a reaction. He slammed his mouth to Stephen's, kissing him until the embarrassment and anxiety faded to a dull roar. The texture of Stephen's skin against his felt so good, and the heat of Stephen's mouth was so fierce, that Jay soon forgot everything that wasn't directly related to the waves of pleasure rolling through him.