Hometown Christmas by Garrett Leigh

Author:Garrett Leigh [Leigh, Garrett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fox Love Press
Published: 2019-11-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Dinner didn’t happen. And despite not stopping for lunch—or breakfast—Yani didn’t give it a second thought as he lay sprawled in Gavin’s bed, trying to make sense of the playlist filtering through the small Bluetooth speaker on the windowsill.

“The Doors, Idles, Michael Jackson, and Madonna? You’re eclectic as fuck.”

Gavin lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and passed it to Yani. “Been called worse.”

“But still.”

“What? I like variety. Plus, it means there must be something on there you like.”

“I like Idles,” Yani admitted. “I’ve seen them play at festivals. They’re fucking insane.”

“How many festivals have you been to?”

“A bazillion. I told you, I used to work at them on the food trucks.”

“Sounds amazing. Food, music, being outdoors. I can’t think of much better.”

“Oh yeah? Well try deep frying seven tons of haloumi for three days straight in torrential rain, it soon puts you off.”

Gavin laughed. “I’ve done my share of camping in the rain. Sandstorms are worse.”

Yani passed the cigarette back and propped himself up to look at Gavin properly. They were naked, naturally, and in bed, still flushed from a round of hand jobs that had edged out to the point where Yani thought he might die, and yet had been over in a flash at the same time. Throughout, Gavin had kissed him like a man possessed, and Yani had wondered if he wanted to fuck him, but things hadn’t got that far. “Will you tell me a story?”

“About what?”

“About your army days. You were in for a long time, it can’t all have been bad.”

“I never said any of it was bad.”

“But some of it must’ve been.”

Gavin finished the cigarette and stubbed it out in an ashtray. He got up and opened the window. “I don’t usually smoke inside.”

“Me neither, but in my defence, it was your idea.”

A hum was Gavin’s only answer. He fiddled with the venetian blinds and glared at something on the street below while Yani tried—and failed—not to ogle his muscular profile. Jumping Gavin was easy. Getting him to talk without a metaphorical wrestling match was biblically tough, and deflection was Gavin’s favourite evasion tactic.

Fuck this.

Yani slid out of bed and pressed himself to Gavin’s back. Warmth spread through him as their skin slid together, and he wound his arms around Gavin’s waist, face nestled between his shoulder blades. Talk to me.

But Gavin remained silent, and Yani lost himself instead to the smooth skin of his back, kissing every vertebrae until he moved low enough for Gavin to shudder and brace himself against the window frame.

Smirking, Yani nudged Gavin’s legs apart. “What are your limits?”

“What?”

“Limits, Gavin. Are you gonna freak out if I rim you?”

“Depends how well you do it.”

Yani’s pulse jumped. “For real? You’re down with that?”

“I’m down with anything, mate. Don’t make assumptions based on whatever alpha male bullshit you’ve got in your pretty head.”

“Pretty?”

“Uh-huh.”

Yani rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t deny Gavin was half right, about assumptions, not Yani being pretty. Every time he’d pictured them fucking—and he’d done

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