“I could do those,” I offer. “And clean your bathrooms.”
“Are you struggling to find me a Christmas present or something?”
“No, I got you something already. I just want to do nice things for you. I’m nice like that.”
He smiles to himself. “I like gifts. And acts of service. Quality time. Physical touch. Guess I’m greedy.”
“You’re a very chill lover. I love that about you.”
“Careful with that L word there,mister Steele.” He shoves greens into his mouth.
“You watched the press conference?”
He doesn’t bother to swallow before responding. “No work talk in my house, remember? Now eat, I’m starting to feel a bit insulted.”
The chicken is what I’ve come to expect, juicy and inoffensive. The salad is amazing, the walnuts adding a nice crunch alongside the perfectly sliced pears and crisp spinach.
We finish up and I grab his dirty plate. He hands me the pan and a few other things while I’m at the sink. My hands are deep in the sudsy water when he kisses my cheek.
“Not gonna lie, this is doing it for me.”
“I hope you like my actual gift just as much.”
“From you?” He settles his head in the crook of my neck. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
After dishes, I grab my suitcase abandoned at the front door. “I didn’t have time to wrap it,” I warn.
Christos closes his eyes, then covers them with his hand to really prove he’s not peeking.
I have to rummage through the clothes and the array of Japanese snacks I bought for my other friends before finding the decorated box.
I place it in his lap before telling him, “You can open your eyes.”
He tilts his head at the gift before sliding the box open. Inside is a paper scroll resting on a silky fabric. He picks it up and reveals it, a woodblock print of swallows and a cherry blossom tree.
“The design is old but the woman I bought it from does her own wood block carvings. Your walls are kinda bare.”
The boxes are finally gone but the place still feels temporary, like the hotel rooms I stay in for competitions.
“Hang on.” He hands me the unfurled scroll and runs off to a nearby closet, returning with a toolbox. “Do I put it over the couch?”
We hold the scroll up to the wall in a few different spots, taking turns holding it against the wall and stepping back to admire and judge the placement.
“You know you do have final say,” I remind him as he stands by the kitchen entryway, scroll in hand.
“Yeah, but you have good taste.”
“Sure, but you like my taste, so you must also have good taste.”
A goofy smile crosses his face and I can feel one spreading across mine.
He decides to hang it right there, so it’s the last thing you see before entering the kitchen. We sit together on the couch, his arm around my shoulders, and admire it. “It’s a very nice gift. I love it.”
“Careful with that L word mister—”
He shuts me up with a kiss.Then leans back so I can lay on top of him. I don’t bother being coy, cupping and squeezing his groin. Not that I have any plans to satisfy his lustjustyet. Once his cock is threatening to burst the button of his jeans, I have to break the kiss, sitting up far enough so he can’t plant another one on me.
“You want to watch a movie?” I absentmindedly draw a figure eight across his pecs. “It was nice, sitting with you.”
