Among college students, Adonis was talented.
Among Olympians, would he be anything more than average?
The day before he was supposed to leave for Italy, while he was in his apartment doing some last-minute packing, his phone buzzed with a text from Bash.
Bash: Hey, I know we’d said 9:00 tonight, but would you want to come over at 6:00 instead?
Adonis looked at the amount of packing he still had to do. If he met Bash at 6:00, that would leave him less than an hour to shove everything in a bag.
Adonis: I’d love to. Your place?
——
When he got to Bash’s place, it was dark, and snow was falling gently. He knocked once on the apartment door, and it was opened seconds later. Bash grinned at him from the doorway. He wore an apron, his cheeks were flushed, and his hair stuck with sweat to his forehead.
“Hi!” he said cheerfully. He leaned in and kissed Adonis.
“Hi,” Adonis said after the kiss was finished. Rich smells wafted from the apartment. “What’s going on here?”
Bash’s cheeks reddened further as he led Adonis into the apartment. “I have a surprise. I hope you like it. You mentioned over Thanksgiving Break that you didn’t get a typical Thanksgiving meal with your mother, but you wanted one.”
He paused as they neared the kitchen and flourished a hand at the spread on the kitchen counter. “So, a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.”
Adonis’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit.”
There was a tureen of velvety mashed potatoes, a glass dish of green beans, a whole roast turkey that smelled positively divine, a dish of sweet potato casserole, a gravy boat, a saucer with fragrant cranberry sauce, a bowl of rich macaroni and cheese, and both a pumpkin and an apple pie.
“Did you cook this?”
Bash smiled, looking down at his feet. “Mostly. Robbie helped dress the turkey, and Clarisse helped with the pie crust.”
“Oh, shit, she makes good pies.”
Adonis’s eyes were watering. He was incredibly touched by the gesture.
“I wanted to have a nice dinner with you before you went to the Olympics,” Bash said, taking his hand.
“I love that idea,” Adonis said. “Can I help with anything?”
“You can sit and look pretty. Coffee?”
Bash made him an espresso and sat him at the little dining room table while he began to carve the turkey. His face scrunched up adorably in concentration while he worked on the turkey, something that was clearly new to him. Adonis watched pleasantly, enjoying every second. He’d never had someone do something like this for him, and he feared that the butterflies in his stomach were only getting more active.
“Ready!” Bash called. Adonis finished his espresso and stood. Bash handed him a ceramic plate, and Adonis loaded his plate with the delicious-looking food. It was heavy food, the kind he didn’t usually eat before bottoming, but he assumed Bash had some sort of plan. Besides, a homemade dinner was better than sex, in its own way.
“Is it good?” Bash said eagerly after Adonis had taken a few bites.
“Very good. Best Thanksgiving dinner I’ve had,” Adonis said, smiling at Bash, who had been eagerly attacking his macaroni and cheese.
“I tried to make the recipes smaller for just two people,” Bash said. “But this is still so much food. Turkeys are huge.”
“You’ll have leftovers to feed yourself for a week.”
“I doubt it’ll last me that long.” He chased a mouthful of food with a long sip of water. “So. Tell me how you feel about the Olympics.”
Adonis set aside his fork and rested his chin on his steepled fingers. “I’m nervous.”
“About competing?”
