Gingerbread Dreams by JMS Books LLC

Author:JMS Books LLC
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay

Chapter 4: Interlude—Day Four

Nate woke exactly thirty seconds before his alarm was due to go off—he’d trained himself to be a morning person, given bakery opening times—and spent five of those seconds wondering where the hell he’d spent the night and who with, and then his brain caught up and he lay in place grinning at the ceiling for a while.

Marcus’s ceiling. Marcus’s room. Marcus’s bed. Where the man himself had shifted slightly away in the night but then flung an arm and a leg out, such that they’d landed across Nate, holding on.

Nate, noticing this—looking at bed-rumpled dark hair and the line of that elegant throat and visible collarbone where that shirt was too large—felt his heart do a flip or two. Helpless adoration. Hopelessly fond. He could’ve stayed right here for hours, with that sight.

Unfortunately he did need to find a restroom; he considered options, and finally inched out from under long limbs and made his way to the side of the bed and ran for the bathroom. He tried to be quick; he did not want Marcus waking up alone.

He caught a glimpse of his face while leaving the bathroom. He looked like someone who’d had the best night of his life. Which was a fair assessment, he decided, and popped back out, beaming.

Marcus was awake and sitting up, knees pulled up, arms around them: a shield, a defense. But his shoulders and eyes and entire expression opened up as Nate came back. “I thought…I didn’t think you’d left. I heard you moving around. But then I thought…or are you leaving now?”

“Nope.” Nate flung himself back onto the pillowy bed and rolled over onto his back, looking up; Marcus obligingly unfolded and stretched out beside him. “I mean, yeah, in like an hour, I’m gonna need to. But I’m here.”

“I like you being here.” Marcus set a hand on Nate’s stomach, experimental, adventuring. Fingers ventured lower, found the hem of Nate’s shirt, tugged it up. “I like your freckles.”

“My mom used to say it meant the sun loved me. I asked her once why I got sunburned all the time, if it did.”

“What did she say?”

“That the sun might love me but it expected me to be smart enough to wear sunscreen. Want my shirt off?”

“Yes…but…we shouldn’t…” Marcus was coaxing fabric up while talking, though. Nate helpfully sat up and let him pull it completely off. White folds floated through the air and perched on a chair, fascinated.

Marcus traced a finger over Nate’s chest. Nate’s heart sped up, honored and ecstatic; his cock, under pajama pants, was rock-hard and had been ever since he’d come back into the room.

“This,” Marcus murmured, “is a terrible idea…we’ve still got the judging…” But he leaned down—Nate wriggled encouragingly—and touched lips to Nate’s, fingers still memorizing the locations of freckles.

This kiss flared and crackled. Scorching. Earth-changing. Deep and smoldery and shivery, toe-curling and full of stars.

Marcus tasted like last night’s toothpaste and early mornings, and that was fine because Nate did

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