I handed him a plate. He took it carefully, both hands, the way you'd hold a gift you weren't sure you deserved.
"You don't have to eat them if you don't want," I said. "I can make eggs. Or there's that yogurt you bought—"
"No." His voice was quiet. "I want them."
He cut into the stack and took a bite. His eyes closed and a small groan escaped. “I forgot food could taste like this.”
We ate in bed. Joel worked through the pancakes slowly, savoring each bite, making them last. Syrup dripped onto his chest at one point and I leaned over and licked it off before I could think about it.
Joel's fork froze halfway to his mouth.
"What?" I grinned at him. "I'm not wasting good syrup."
His eyes went dark. "You missed some."
"Did I?"
He set the plate aside and reached for the little pitcher on the tray. Before I could react, he'd drizzled a thin line from my collarbone down toward my nipple, the syrup cool against my skin.
"Joel—"
His mouth followed the trail, tongue hot and wet, licking in broad strokes that made my cock twitch against my thigh. He reached my nipple and sucked it into his mouth, teeth grazing the edge, and I arched off the bed with a groan.
"Good?" he asked, pulling back. His lips were shiny.
"Fuck you."
"That's not an answer." But he was smiling, actually smiling, and it changed his whole face. He looked younger. Lighter. Like someone I was only beginning to meet.
I grabbed the pitcher from his hand. "My turn."
"Red—"
I pushed him onto his back and straddled his thighs, pinning him down. He let me, which was its own kind of gift. I drizzled syrup across his stomach, a lazy zigzag over the muscles there, then lower, following the trail of dark hair beneath his navel.
Joel sucked in a breath. His cock was hard, and I let the syrup drip close but not quite there.
"You're a tease," he said.
"I'm thorough." I licked the syrup off his stomach, taking my time, and the muscles jumped under my tongue. His hand fisted in my hair and I let him guide me lower, following the sticky trail to where it pooled in the crease of his hip. I sucked the skin there and he made a sound that went straight to my cock.
"You missed a spot," he managed.
"Where?"
He pushed my head down. The syrup had dripped onto his shaft, a glistening line from base to tip, and I looked up at him with my mouth an inch from his cock.
"Cheater," I said.
"You started it."
I licked him clean in one long stroke, base to tip, tasting maple and salt and the bitter edge of pre-cum. Joel's hips jerked and his grip tightened in my hair. I did it again, slower this time, and he swore under his breath.
"Get up here," he said.
I laughed against his skin, and the sound surprised me. Joel pulled me up and kissed me, syrup-sticky and sweet, and we were both smiling into it. The tray got shoved aside, plates clattering to the floor, and then we were pressed together, his cock sliding against mine, his hands gripping my ass to pull me closer.
We rocked together slowly, trading maple syrup kisses while the morning sun crept higher. I wrapped my hand around both of us, stroking loose and easy, and Joel groaned into my mouth.
