“Cooking for us—technically, but sure—I’m cooking for you,” he replied with a laugh.
Retrieving a package of Asian noodles from the cupboard to put with the edamame, he went back to the fridge, but Lance blocked his path.
“Need something?”
“Yeah. For your fine ass to move away from the fridge!” Tanner stated with a mock frown and shooing motion. “I need eggs.”
Lance huffed a laugh and stepped aside for Tanner to grab eggs and some vegetables.
“This cooking project of yours looks very promising so far, Chef Tanner. What’s on the menu tonight?” Lance moved to a spot behind the counter to sit on one of the bar stools, doing a fair imitation of an eager, hungry guest on a cooking show.
“Nope! Not going to tell you! Let’s keep the mystery alive until I’m done.” Tanner figured he’d surely jinx himself if he told Lance what he was planning to cook.
As Tanner began his prep work at the stove, Lance put on some music. The playlist was a mix of pop, hip-hop, rock, and some alternative music. When “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers came on, Tanner began to sing along as he cooked. Lance smirked fondly as Tanner began belting out the chorus right along with Brandon Flowers, the lead singer.
“Jealousy. Turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibi. But it’s just the price I pay—”
Lance raised the volume, so Tanner felt obliged to up his game. He grabbed the nearest spatula, bobbing his head in time with the beat as he sang.
He wasn’t a great singer, but he could put on a show if he needed to. As the second verse started, he pretended Lance was one of many thousands in the audience. It wasn’t singing anymore as much as it was screaming into his fake microphone. Lance howled with laughter when Tanner placed the mic between them, encouraging Lance to sing along with him.
“Jealousy. Turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibi. But it’s just the price I pay, destiny is calling me—” Lance’s voice was no better than Tanner’s, but he joined in on the chorus anyway, not caring what he might sound like. When their gazes met, they laughed their way through to the end. “Open up my eager eyes, ‘cause I’m Mr. Brightside!”
By the time the song faded into the outro, they were completely out of breath and smiling stupidly at one another.
“You had an emo phase in high school,” Lance said accusingly. “Admit it.”
Tanner waggled his eyebrows and laughed before leaning in to give Lance a brief kiss. As he started to pull away, Lance grabbed his ass and refused to let him go. His other hand snagged Tanner’s jaw, holding him gently in place as he deepened the kiss.
Tanner had gone sofuckinglong without any kind of physical intimacy. Every time they did this his nerve endings caught fire. A soft whimper escaped as he melted into Lance’s embrace. Lance chuckled as he pressed kisses to Tanner’s neck, nipping at the skin there. Tanner moaned and Lance moved back to his mouth, kissing him passionately, while grabbing his ass to lift him up and against him. Tanner clutched Lance’s shoulders, but as he shifted his weight, his left leg buckled, and he slipped out of Lance’s hold and dropped to the floor.
“Fuck!” Lance cried out fearfully. “Are you okay? Jesus, I’m so sorry!” Lance quickly shoved the bar stool out of the way and bent down to help Tanner.
“I’m fine. I moved wrong and my leg couldn’t handle it.” With an annoyed grimace, he held up a hand, silently asking Lance to help him up. The gesture reassured Lance, making him sigh with relief as he pulled him to his feet.
“Is that what they mean when they talk about sweeping someone off their feet?” Lance asked with an innocent smile.
Tanner laughed until tears came to his eyes. He tried for a serious expression as he responded, “Wow—big guy knocks a cripple to the ground and starts cracking jokes.”
“I’m sorry—I should have more respect for my elders,” Lance shot back, not falling for Tanner’s little act.
“Fuck off,” Tanner muttered, unable to hide his smile as he managed to stand upright again.
Lance looked good enough to eat, with his dimpled cheeks, sparkling gaze, and square jaw. He looked like a male model turned businessman. In what world did this guy fallfor crippled, scarred Tanner, with his multiple tattoos, and his street tough looks?
Tanner kissed him again, just because he could.
“Food, Tanner,” Lance said as a quick reminder, even as he wrapped his arms around Tanner, in no hurry to let him go.
“Right,” Tanner replied, as he recalled what he’d been doing in the kitchen before the impromptu concert. “Coming right up!” he said, flashing Lance a mischievous smile as he wiggled out of his arms and headed back to the stove.
He wasn’t much of a cook, but Asian noodles had been one of his staples growing up. He cooked the udon noodles, then sautéed them with soy sauce, sesame oil, and brown sugar. Next, he topped them with two soft-boiled eggs, lots of edamame, and cooked vegetables. After scooping servings into two large bowls, he slid them across the counter with a smug grin, and they dug in.
“Damn,” Lance said, with a low whistle. “I bagged myself a sexy homemaker!”
Tanner choked on his bite of noodles. He grabbed his beer to wash it down, while Lance snickered.
“Was it the homemaker thing? Or the part about bagging you?” Lance asked with a sexy grin.
