“Took you long enough.” Leonidas straightened up, sitting and bending one of his legs at the knee. He hooked his arm around it and rested his cheek against the warm side of his knee and allowed himself to process Andy’s arrival.
He hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for it.
But of course he had been.
“Did you still want to have a date?” Andy asked.
“Yes.”
“Then come inside.” Andy turned on his heel and headed down the dock toward the cabin.
Leonidas stood and stretched, picking up the towel before following Andy. He’d left the door unlocked, and Andy was in front of the couch, shifting his weight around like he was standing on a bed of thorns.
“Are we going somewhere?” Leonidas asked. “Should I shower?”
“No,” Andy answered, dragging his stare over Leonidas’s bare chest. “I mean you can, if you want, but we aren’t going anywhere.”
“No?”
“There’s not much to do in Cherry Creek as far as I can tell, but I brought wine and cupcakes.” Andy took a deep breath. “I thought we could get to know each other.”
Leonidas smiled, tipping his chin toward his chest. He was embarrassed to admit how much he liked that idea as he’d pretty much figured out Andy was the best part of Cherry Creek.
“Alright,” he agreed.
“You sit.” Andy pointed toward the couch and cleared his throat. “Sit.”
The second time he said it, the instruction sounded clearer and a spike of adrenaline lit up Leonidas’s spine. He knew that tone, he understood that sound, and he sat down on the couch without a word. He tried to think about turbulent ten hour airplane flights to fight his cock from thickening, but when Andy came back into his view, with bare feet and a bottle of wine, the fight was lost.
Andy stopped in front of him, the bottle hanging loose in his grip against his thigh and two cupcakes balanced on a plate in the other hand. Andy studied him from his face, to his posture, to the growing bulge between his legs, then he made a pleased little noise and set the cupcakes on the table.
“You really do like being told what to do,” Andy observed, holding the wine bottle toward Leonidas. It was open, Andy hadn’t brought glasses, and memories of Paris flashed through his mind when he took a drink straight from the bottle.
“I made you a list,” he answered back.
“Where is it?”
“In my head.” Leonidas passed the bottle back to Andy, who set it on the table next to the cupcakes.
“Alright.” Andy sat on the table with the wine on one side and the cupcakes on the other. The tips of his toes touched Leonidas’s feet. “Do you want banana or chocolate?”
“Chocolate.”
Andy picked up the chocolate cupcake and peeled back the paper wrapper. He plucked a piece of cake into his fingers and held it toward Leonidas’s mouth, but stopped shy of his lips.
“Tell me something.”
“I was born on a Saturday,” Leonidas said. “In the morning.”
Andy changed the angle of his hand and pressed the cupcake against Leonidas’s lips. He opened, and Andy pushed the crumbs onto his tongue. Leonidas fought the urge to lick Andy’s fingers. When Andy’s hand was gone, he closed his mouth and swallowed.
The cupcake was delicious, rich and velvety against his tongue, if not a little crumbly. It was sweet and, mixed with the barest hint of sweat from Andy’s fingers, was maybe the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“Go on.”
“I have two older sisters and a newborn nephew.”
“What’s his name?” Andy picked off another piece of the cupcake.
