CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ELLIOT
The second I escape to Hank’s, relief washes over me. Hiding in his houseplant forest, no one else can reach us. The world can’t intrude.
I only get a moment alone with Hank, though, before he has to rush off to the office. I’m left in the quiet condo, and I immediately pull out my drawing tablet and my sketchpad. I set up at Hank’s kitchen table, and I put myself to work.
Marko and Taylor are taking a few days off from responsibilities, but next week, level-up summer is back. The launch of Taylor’s new dance party will be here in no time, and Marko and Taylor are primed to help me build my illustration career. This time at Hank’s gives me the perfect opportunity to catch up on my obligations and prepare for the next phase.
Hank calls at lunch to check in on me and make sure I’m eating the leftover veggie pasta in the fridge. He’s catching back up in the office, and my dad seems to have quickly forgotten I exist again, or maybe purposefully chosen to ignore the reality.
Regardless, we’re in the clear.
My stomach full, I work out a series of sketches, cyberpunk android erotica, and catch up on my email. There’s even a message from a new potential client offering a major pay dayand asking for more details. It’s a total lifesaver. Before Hank gets home, I make sure the condo is tidy, checking over the kitchen and bathroom twice. He’s had a busy day, and I want him to come home and feel as good as I’ve felt working here.
When Hank returns, he insists that he wants to cook dinner again. He agrees to let me help, though, so I end up at the counter, chopping onion and broccoli and peppers while we talk about our days and listen to music.
Hank looks sexy and competent in his undershirt, throwing together a tofu curry without any recipe. It makes it impossible to keep my hands off of him, and we brush together and kiss while we work in rhythm.
Dinner is exquisite. After, I clean up before I show my appreciation with a blowjob. Hank leans back in the kitchen chair, his legs spread, while I work him with everything I’ve got.
For once, we barely talk about the disasters, beyond quick confirmations that there’s no one outside his place, and that shady strangers still linger near my house. Instead, we make our way to the couch, and I ask Hank to show me his favorite movie. He pulls up something I’ve never seen, Wong Kar-Wei’sHappy Together, a lushly gorgeous nineties film about a gay couple with a tumultuous relationship.
I curl against Hank’s chest, and he holds me while we watch.
For the next two days, the thought of leaving the condo never crosses my mind. Hank is taking on entire new responsibilities at work, and it impresses me how confidently he meets the challenge, reminiscent of his determination on the island. Somehow, he still manages to have the energy to care for me, too.
I do my best to care for him in return. It’s easy enough to keep the place clean and jump in to help him when I see the opportunity, but I try to find my own special ways. I wake upbefore him to bring Hank coffee and yogurt in bed, and I rub his feet when we relax at the end of the day.
Thursday, I get inspired. When Hank returns from work, I’m in the living room with the vacuum running, wearing nothing but a clean pair of socks.
I glance over my shoulder. “Welcome home.”
Hank chuckles. “What is going on?”
I vacuum under the couch, arching my back to make my butt look good. “I was thinking about how hard you work all day,” I tell him and turn, holding the vibrating vacuum handle between my legs, “and I decided I wanted you to come home to an extra clean house as a reward.”
I vacuum closer to him, and Hank grins. He pulls off his work jacket and hangs it by the door, then kicks off his shoes and walks to me.
“Thatisa reward.”
My naked body brushes across Hank as I pass, but I draw out the pleasure. I vacuum my way around the living room, posing and letting Hank drink in the view. His attention gets me hard, as horny as Hank looks, but he gives in to temptation first. Pulling the vacuum out of my hand, Hank drags me into a deep kiss.
He pushes me onto the couch, groping down my leg as I groan in appreciation. His strong grip closes over my ankle, and he plays with my socks as I pull his pants open and hurriedly work at his shirt.
We kiss deeper and longer. Hank pulls my sock off, then the other, tossing them aside.
“Ready for you to be naked,” he says with a growl.
We go at each other fast and dirty after that. We’re all spit and grunts and groans of approval, thrusting together on the couch until we finish each other off with our hands.
After we clean up, Hank hums appreciatively and pulls me to him on the couch. “That was a nice surprise.”
I find my spot against his chest, and Hank strokes my beard lightly.
“Thought you’d enjoy it,” I tell him, smiling and proud of myself.
“It’s always nice coming home to you, Elliot.”
