Malachi pulled out the seat for Alfie before going over to grab the shepherd’s pie that their brothers had left for them in the oven. He served Alfie first before doing the same for himself.
“What would you like to drink?” Malachi asked, as he walked over to the large double-doored fridge.
“Uhh, is there by any chance any Vimto?” Alfie asked. It was his favourite cordial.
“Actually, there is,” Malachi replied, and got the bottle out. He went over to a cupboard and got out two glasses, then stopped at the fridge for water and ice—it was one of those with a dispenser built into the door.
He mixed Alfie a glass of Vimto—and grabbed some lemonade for himself—before coming over and taking a seat to the left of Alfie instead of directly across. Malachi handed Alfie his drink, then moved his place setting from where it was opposite Alfie to where he’d chosen to sit.
When he was done, he looked at Alfie. “I hope the Vimto is okay? Not too sweet or too light?”
Alfie took a sip and smiled. It was perfect and cold, just the way he liked it even in the winter.
“It’s just right, thank you.” He gave Malachi a smile, and the man preened like he’d just been handed an award.
“Eat up,” Malachi said, “I feel so bad letting you get so hungry.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m glad that we talked,” Alfie reassured him. He lifted his fork and tasted the shepherd’s pie, letting out a moan as the cheesy mashed potato and the gravied mince hit his taste buds.
Alfie closed his eyes and savoured the meal. Shepherd’s pie was one of his favourites.
When he opened his eyes, it was to find Malachi’s eyes on his mouth, his food completely untouched.
Alfie’s belly did a somersault at the look in Chi’s eyes when the man lifted them to meet his own. No one had ever looked at him like that—with such raw need.
Alfie forked another piece of Shepherd’s pie from his plate and lifted it towards Malachi, who held his gaze as he ate off the fork.
Alfie had never done anything like that before, but somehow it just felt right. The tension between them grew even as they spoke about their lives. Alfie told Malachi about losing his dad early, and how he’d felt kind of invisible for a while.
Malachi was sweet and thoughtful, and he listened to Alfie and actually asked questions about his family, school, and what movies he liked. It was the best date he’d ever been on.
Chi’s attention never strayed. He told Alfie about his brothers and his parents. Apparently, Malachi had told them not to come over until the two of them had figured things out, though he did want everyone to meet Alfie. They talked for ages about everything and anything—Alfie had even let more slip out about Rupert, and he really wanted to meet the bastard in a dark alley. If it was up to him, he would spend all night talking with his mate, but Alfie finally let out a yawn.
“I should let you go to sleep,” Malachi said, the regret in his tone clear as day.
Alfie shook his head as he yawned again. “No, I’m having a wonderful time.”
“So am I, love,” Chi replied, “but you’re tired. We can pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
“Promise?” Alfie asked.
“I promise,” Malachi said. “Maybe we could go on a proper date tomorrow?”
“This was a proper date.” Alfie couldn’t help smiling. It was the best, most proper date he’d ever had.
“Well, then a second date. I have an idea I think you’ll like.” Malachi's eyes had an excited, mischievous gleam in them.
“Tell me.” Alfie stuck his lips out in a playful pout. God, had it ever been this easy with anyone? This banter? And how cool was it that his mate—that didn’t sound as weird as it had when Axel had explained what it was—could make the pain go away? Alfie hadn’t taken a painkiller in hours, but he felt great.
“It’s a surprise,” Chi replied.
Alfie’s smile got wider. No one hadeversurprised him, not even his siblings.
“Fine,” Alfie mock pouted again, this time with his arms crossed.
“God, you’re beautiful.” Malachi cupped his cheek, and Alfie couldn’t help melting.
If the man kept saying stuff like that, being so damn sweet, Alfie would fall for him.
