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A blinding glow illuminated the once dimly lit bedroom of the Small residence. The light zeroed in on the bed at the far end of the room, as if directly targeting those nestled amongst the haphazardly strewn sheets and pillows.
Joseph, who had recently taken to staying the nights at his neighbor’s home, clenched his eyes shut, silently praying for the sun and heavens above to give him just five more minutes of rest. He rolled over, hoping to shield his eyes in the crook of his bedmate’s neck. The surprising lack of warmth next to him had his eyes fluttering open, however slightly.
“Rob?”
He propped himself up on one arm and slowly surveyed the scene around him, blocking the sunlight pouring in from the full-length windows with his free hand. The room appeared as normal: bottles and clothes littered the floor, pictures of God-knows-what covered the walls, his own clothes laid semi-folded on a chair—Robert must have picked them up, he was sweet when he wanted to be. The only thing missing was the home owner himself.
It was early, based on the estimated position of the sun and Joseph’s own internal clock—great for being home before the kids woke up, awful for lazy day relaxation—so where was Robert? There was no way he’d be up so early without Joseph’s insistence.
Determined to solve the mystery, Joseph sat up and rubbed at his eyes, preparing himself to take on the day. He pulled himself off the bed and grabbed his underwear from the previous night, tugging them on as quickly as his still half-asleep body would allow him. Figuring Robert’s disappearance was more important than looking his Sunday best, he made his way to the bedroom door as he was.
Pulling the door open, he poked out his head and called into the hall, “Robert?”
With no response, he began his search. He checked the bathroom. He checked the office. He even had a quick glance into the spare bedroom. Still no Robert. Believing the current floor to be a lost cause, he headed for the stairs, rubbing his eyes once more as he started his descent.
As he made his way down each grueling step, a wonderful aroma grew stronger and stronger. Joseph instinctively sniffed at the air, breathing in what smelled like cinnamon and vanilla. Despite the pleasing aroma, it only seemed to concern him further. Maybe he had just gotten too used to the omnipresent cigarette and puppy smell, but only an imposter (or handsome next door neighbor with a fresh batch of cookies) could ever make Robert’s house smell so good.
Trailing the scent through the house, Joseph found himself at the entryway to the kitchen. His body tensed involuntarily, the sweet smell emanating from the room failing to quell his protective instinct. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have gone so far without first procuring a weapon, but this was Robert’s house, he’d find a knife somewhere. Peering in, he saw a figure darting around the room, moving from counter to stove as if his life depended on it.
Noting the scruffy hairs lining the intruder’s face and the streaks of grey amongst dark locks, a calm fell over Joseph. It was just Robert. Joseph wouldn’t have to explain to everyone why he had been in another man’s home and ended up stabbing someone in it. Good. With his newfound contentment, Joseph let out a light sigh to himself and fully stepped into the room.
As he did so, Robert turned towards him, facing him for barely a second before turning back to whatever he was busy with, “Oh hey, hon.”
Joseph gave a small smile, tiredness still evident on his face. The blond walked further into the room, watching Robert with mild puzzlement. Robert leaned down closer to the stove, eyeing the lit fire and adjusting the pan in front of him. It seemed like a bad idea to Joseph—that’s exactly how you end up with no eyebrows. Pieces of golden bread sizzled in the pan before him while the bubbling of a coffee pot could be heard off to the side.
Seeming to have succeeded in whatever he was doing, Robert turned his attention back to Joseph, letting his eyes run over his scantily-clad body as a smirk tugged at his mouth, “You dress up for me?”
Joseph crossed his arms over his bare chest and popped his hip ever so slightly, “I woke up and thought you were dead. Wanted to look nice for the funeral.”
A chuckle escaped the other man as he returned to the pan, retrieving a spatula and removing the perfectly cooked slices. He lowered them onto a plate covered in powder—cinnamon and sugar, it seemed—and quickly spooned the substance on top, coating more than just the bread in the process—yeah, there was definitely cinnamon.
“Whatcha doin’?” Joseph cocked his head at the display, his nose twitching as the smell wafted through the kitchen.
Robert began setting the newly coated pieces onto two paper plates, “Making breakfast.” He handed one of the plates to Joseph before turning to pour themselves some coffee.
“Oh,” Joseph tried his best not to look too astonished, or nervous, with the development. To be fair, it looked great and smelled absolutely heavenly, but he had also seen Robert eat a cold Hot Pocket® off the floor before, so the idea of him knowing how to cook had never been very present in his mind. “What is it?”
Passing the minister a mug, Robert took his own plate in his hand and motioned toward the living room, “Torrijas Rellenas de Crema Pastelera.”
Following close behind, Joseph continued to wearily eye his plate, “Torr-what-a?”
“Torrija.” Robert took a sip of his coffee as he sat down on one of the sofas, “It’s like French toast, but this one’s got custard in the middle.”
“Ah,” Joseph took a seat on the opposite sofa, setting his coffee down on the appropriately named coffee table and awkwardly putting his plate in his lap.
“You can pick it up and eat it like a sandwich or use utensils like some sorta rich asshole,” Robert paused and looked up like he was considering making a sarcastic comment. He seemed to decide against it and instead stuffed his face with food.
Joseph watched as he swallowed, making note of the fact that he didn’t immediately begin to convulse or go into cardiac arrest. He stared down at his plate once more, unsure of how exactly it was preferable to eat something practically dripping with sugar with one’s bare hands. Was Robert raised in a barn?
Speaking of Robert’s mysterious past, “You know Spanish?”
“Mh-hm. Grandma didn’t speak a lot of English, so I picked up a lot from her.” The older man continued to munch on his food, seemingly trying not to talk with his mouth full but not completely succeeding, “Then I spent some time in Spain, so it’s kinda required. That’s where I learned how to do this,” he raised his… torey ah? Tori has? Something like that.
“Interesting. I know how to say a few creepy lines in Latin, so if you ever find yourself needing something like that…”
“I know where to find you,” Robert smiled into his coffee cup as he took another drink. Returning the half-empty cup to the table, his smile faded as he looked over to Joseph’s lap, “Y’know, if you don’t eat it, I will. I know you like to have breakfast with the kids, or whatever.”
“No, no! It’s… I’ll have it,” Joseph frantically tried to reassure him, the realization that Robert did actually, properly make breakfast for him suddenly hitting him despite that having been obvious, “I just… didn’t know you could cook.” In an effort to make amends, Joseph finally lifted the food off the plate, silently cursing the sugar coating his fingers.
“I worked in a restaurant for a while,” he glanced off to the side, “In Spain.”
“Oh?” As he implored Robert to continue, Joseph brought the torrija to his mouth.
“Yeah, it was… I learned a lot.”
Joseph liked hearing about Robert’s life, even if he couldn’t always tell what was fact and what was fiction. He was getting better at learning some of his tells, at least. If anything, he could usually discern his most far-fetched stories from reality, and he even learned to start joining in with stories of his own. Despite the fact that a lot of their conversations were nothing but tall tales and grandiose fabrications, he felt a sense of trust between them. Maybe it was a bad idea to trust someone like Robert, but he couldn’t convince himself to worry about it. Robert was probably the one thing Joseph didn’t worry about—apart from the man’s own personal safety, of course.
Before he attempted to draw more information from Robert, he was suddenly cut off as he bit into his food, the flavors almost literally stunning him into silence. He paused for a second, chewing slowly and staring wide-eyed at his meal.
“Joseph?” Robert sounded confused, if a bit concerned, but it was muffled in Joseph’s ears.
“Oh my God,” Joseph mumbled, eyes practically sparkling like some sort of cartoon character.
The other man’s face contorted into a puzzled grin, “You can’t say that.”
Joseph’s head shot up, meeting Robert’s eyes, “I can say whatever I want; this is delicious!”
“Joseph, it’s… just French toast—”
“If God ate this, he would understand my choice of words.”
Robert looked shocked for a moment, and then quickly preceded to turn his head off to the side, “...Thanks.” It might have just been Joseph’s sugar haze, but he could have sworn Robert was blushing. He’d like to believe that, anyway.
Deciding that the best way to compliment a chef was to completely engulf their food, Joseph returned to the torrija he had previously been avoiding. Robert followed suit with his own food, though a bit more casually than Joseph may have been.
Through his daze, Joseph still attempted conversation, “Wait. If you can cook Michelin star quality food, why are you always getting take-out and eating dry instant ramen?”
Robert polished off the last of his food, brushing his hands together and letting sugar fall everywhere, “So, what? I’m just gonna make an entire Michelin meal every night? For myself?” He took his mug in his hands and stared down into the darkness of the dwindling coffee, his voice lowered, “Isn’t that kinda lonely?”
The insatiable hunger that had overtaken Joseph dissipated as those words entered his mind. Right. Alone. Making a home-cooked meal every night for an empty house probably felt awful at times.
Robert always managed to leave Joseph’s emotions spinning in the opposite direction at any given moment. It was a talent he assumed came with being a self-proclaimed con—the ability to manipulate other’s feelings had its advantages in this world. Though Robert’s truths, the ones he kept hidden and often only revealed with resigned indifference, set Joseph’s mind and body alight in a way that his most elaborate plots could only dream to recreate.
Joseph looked at what remained of his food uncomfortably. Despite his job as a counselor, he was often at a loss for what the best thing to say to Robert was, if anything. Instead of forcing something, he kept silent, unsure if the ‘you could always cook for me!’ line was appropriate or not. Robert would fill the air if he wanted to.
“Guess I could always just cook for you. If you want.”
After the initial fear of Robert’s perceptiveness faded, Joseph shot him a snide grin, “As much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t put it past you to poison me or stick tiny, undetectable knives into my food.”
“Why, so I can become some sort of surrogate to your kids and mold them for my own nefarious purposes?”
“Maybe you’ll just steal my boat and sell it to some black market yacht dealer for quick cash,” Joseph finished off the last of his torrija, licking the excess sugar off his fingers.
“Do you really have such little faith in me?” Robert placed a hand over his heart, feigning sorrow, “Joseph, I’m hurt.”
“I refuse to give you that much control over what goes into my body,” he replied flatly.
“Didn’t seem to mind what I was putting in your body last night.”
Joseph threw a—again appropriately named—throw pillow at him, Robert laughing all the while.
Robert tossed the pillow off to the side, his opposite hand still fisting his coffee cup, “You’re lucky this was empty.”
“Heaven forbid I add another mysterious stain to your furniture,” Joseph turned his attention to his own coffee, fighting to conceal a grin as Robert’s giggles filled his ears.
Maybe missing breakfast with the kids wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
====
Admittedly, Joseph wasn’t the most skilled person in the world: he wasn’t particularly well-read, he still called a mechanic or road-side assistance whenever something happened with the car, and he couldn’t say much about subjects that didn’t have to do with either boats, ropes, or the Lord—which, oddly enough, was most subjects. Sometimes he wondered if the reason the church youths liked him at all was because he came across more as an inexperienced teenager and less of a grown man with a wife and kids. It was always a humbling thought.
So when he did find something he was good at, it tended to become a major part of his life and personality. Outside of ministry and sailing, one of those things was cooking.
While he wasn’t perfect by any means—he wasn’t a professional and he probably couldn’t hold his own against any sort of high class chefs—Joseph still thought himself a fairly competent cook. His family seemed to enjoy his food, anyway, and the neighborhood liked when he brought snacks or held events he’d end up catering. Even if it only came out of a box or from a recipe he happened across online, people at least appeared to like what he made.
He enjoyed doing it, too. Cooking was one of the few things that made him feel content without also making him feel guilty for what felt like him ignoring his responsibilities. It was a win-win for everyone.
But even so, his food was nothing compared to what Robert could make. That was… an odd feeling.
It took some time for it to fully set in. At first Joseph was just impressed and positively delighted by the fact that Robert would choose to share that side of himself with him. As the days grew on and the novelty of Robert’s hidden talent began to wear off, however, a strange feeling of inadequacy took root in Joseph’s mind and soul.
Cooking started to be less fun. At times, he would forget about that morning and could bake and boil and flip to his heart’s content. Other times, the memory of that first bite would hit him so hard, he’d instinctively toss whatever he was working on in the trash where it belonged. Some days, the thought even had him opting for take-out over a home-cooked meal, something of which almost never crossed his mind since becoming a parent. Knowing Robert, it was unlikely that anyone else in town had experienced his cooking, yet the idea of his family viewing his own meals as sub-par worried him to the point of outright avoidance.
Now, the church was holding one of its annual bake sales, and Joseph was expected to pitch in with some baked goods of his own.
Fighting through his own desire to crawl into bed and hide from everyone, the minister labored away in his kitchen with the highest quality pre-packaged mixes he could find. His church needed his help, and by God, he was going to provide.
Bowls and pans littered every surface of the sunlit room, a sight Joseph would normally condemn if he weren’t so atypically distracted. He ran over the instructions on one of the boxes of cupcake mix for a third, fourth, and fifth time, making sure everything was measured properly and the oven had been set to the correct temperature. As his eyes trailed the words for a sixth time, a knock came from the front door.
“It’s open!” Joseph yelled out from the kitchen, not bothering to stop in his endeavor.
The sound of the door being forced open could be heard just across the way, the shuffling of footsteps following not soon after. The kitchen wasn’t far from the front door, so the visitor arrived at Joseph’s whereabouts soon enough. Joseph faced away from the entryway, still focused on the task at hand.
“How’s my beautiful bible thumper doing?”
The visitor’s voice caused Joseph to jump however slightly as he was shocked out of his thoughts. He turned to find Robert leaning against the island counter, crossed arms perched on the unusually cluttered surface and self-satisfaction etched on his face.
Joseph stretched his arm along the counter now behind him in an attempt at hiding the box he had previously been holding. He tried to appear nonchalant despite the quickening pace of his heart, “You know, I really don’t appreciate that term.”
“‘Beautiful’?” Robert’s features contorted into a smarmy grin, the unamused expression Joseph shot him only proving to make it bigger.
The minister rolled his eyes and turned his back to the other man once more. He took a batter-filled bowl from the counter and began stirring it slowly, hoping each stroke would somehow whisk away the nerves creeping up his spine.
“Whatcha makin’?” Robert asked as he wasted no time in dragging a bowl closer to taste the leftover batter still lining its sides.
Joseph hesitated, the thought of Robert trying what he made taking root in his mind and blanking out all other thoughts.
What if he doesn’t like it? What if he pretends to like it but actually hates it? Would he do something like that? Has he already done something like that? Has he ever liked anything?
He did his best to force the thoughts down if only momentarily to allow himself to form some sort of response, “Uh. Cupcakes! The church is having a bake sale, so I’m just doing my part.”
“Another one?”
“Another one.” As inconspicuously as he could, Joseph quietly tossed the empty box of cupcake mix into the trash. He reasoned that, since everything had been added and the oven was presumably appropriately set, he could get by without it for the time being. Robert didn’t need to know that he was still relying on store-bought mixes, even if he already learned that fact a long time ago.
Joseph searched a cabinet for a muffin tin, clanging all sorts of pans around in the process. He could feel Robert’s eyes on him, and while normally such a thing wouldn’t be all too uncomfortable, Joseph couldn’t help but feel everything he did was being fully scrutinized. After the tin had been successfully secured, the blond turned back to place it on the island counter.
The older man remained in his spot along the counter, casual despite Joseph’s unease, “Need help with anything?”
“No!” Joseph unintentionally slammed the muffin tin on the counter, further worsening his embarrassment and growing anxiety. Robert’s look of confusion and concern at the outburst did nothing to help. “No… No. I can do it myself.”
Robert moved from his spot to close the distance between them and attempted to lock eyes with an unwilling Joseph, “Are you alright?”
“Yup! Yeah…” Joseph rubbed at his forehead, still refusing to meet Robert’s gaze, “Yeah. I’m fine. I just… have a lot to do, and I wasn’t expecting you… I’m just stressed, is all.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mh-hm.”
Perhaps the most useful thing Joseph was good at was lying. Yet despite years of trial and error and mastering the art of omission, Robert still managed to always see right through him. If the uncharacteristic outburst didn’t give it away, Joseph’s little tells always would.
At least Robert was kind enough to let him get away with it sometimes.
Despite a moment’s pause as if he was weighing his options in his mind, Robert eventually backed off and allowed the excuse to sit, “Ok. Just, y’know, if you need anything, let me know.” He stopped trying to force eye-contact and glanced around the room instead. “I just came over to see if you were free, and I guess you aren’t, so I’ll just leave you be.”
“You don’t have to go.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I can find other shit to do. I’ll see ya later,” Robert turned to head out before almost immediately turning back towards Joseph, “but before I go…” The older man took Joseph’s chin in one hand and swiped his thumb along the corner of his mouth. When he pulled his hand away, Joseph could see the unnatural pink color of frosting coating his finger, before said finger quickly disappeared into its owner’s mouth.
Heat crawled its way up to the blond’s once pale face, “H-How long has that been there?”
“Dunno, but I’ve been wanting to lick it the entire time,” Robert looked between his thumb and Joseph as he made sure he got everything.
“So why didn’t you just… lick it?”
Robert snorted to himself before abruptly spinning around and making a dash for the exit. He gave a quick wave and a “Later,” and then promptly disappeared from the room.
Meanwhile, Joseph was left awkwardly standing in the middle of his kitchen, flustered by a mix of shame and infatuation. He gave himself time to recompose, only to find himself again gripped by that gnawing sense of inferiority.
Joseph never really considered himself a jealous person. There were the occasional pings when someone spoke of something he could never have, but he was never made particularly self-conscious about his own abilities or left wallowing in self-pity. Robert changed that, somehow.
There was something so gut-wrenching about being upstaged by a man who could barely stand upright half the time. Robert was smart, and well-travelled, and he had lived a life so different from Joseph’s own. It made Joseph feel incomplete in a way he had never experienced so viscerally before.
The minister knew, logically, that his neighbor was no one to envy. Robert had a plethora of his own problems—many of his own making—some Joseph could connect with and others he wouldn’t wish on his greatest enemy. Even so, the knowledge of this only seemed to slow the growth of the deadly sin rather than stop it completely.
He wanted to be like Robert—wanted to be daring and uninhibited and free. He wanted Robert to take him away and show him the world he was always too afraid to explore. But why would he? What did Joseph have to offer that Robert couldn’t find elsewhere? He was just a father. Just a husband. Just a minister. That’s all he was ever destined to be.
====
In an attempt to apologize for effectively driving Robert out of his home, Joseph proposed a movie night following the conclusion of the bake sale. After ensuring the kids were all accounted for and the house was in order, he made the short trip straight to his neighbor’s couch.
The night seemed to progress without a hitch. It gave Joseph a good chance to unwind and relax, even if he wasn’t entirely invested in the movie playing. The older man’s choice in films always seemed to go right over Joseph’s head, but Robert seemed into whatever was happening on screen so he wasn’t about to complain.
Their movie nights typically ended as most of their rendezvous did—a few light touches here, some teasing glances there, and soon they’d end up a mess of moans and sweat—but this night was particularly chaste. Robert often became too distracted for any sort of affection when he was engrossed in certain films, so it wasn’t entirely surprising.
Joseph accepted it, at first. He lounged against the sofa and nurtured a bowl of popcorn prepared beforehand, his eyes drifting between the TV in front of him and Robert’s profile. On occasion, he tried to get his attention through deliberate bumps or offers of snacks, all with few results. Normally, he would have gotten more bold in his advances or admitted defeat and fallen asleep, but something kept Joseph awake and inhibited. Robert seemed distant, irritated almost.
Was it because of him? Was he bothering him? Was he ignoring him on purpose? Joseph could feel his chest tighten at the thought. Unsure of how to address it, he surrendered to stuffing himself with unhealthy amounts of carbs and sodium.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he found his fingers hitting the bottom of the bowl. He had given up trying to get Robert to so much as acknowledge him, and with no one stopping him, Joseph allowed himself to completely devour all the popcorn he had made. Be it for his sake or Robert’s, the minister resolved to refill the bowl—and get a nice glass of water while he was at it.
“I’m gonna go get some more popcorn,” Joseph stood from the couch, “You need anything?”
“Mm,” the older man maintained his focus on the TV.
“I’m guessing that’s a no,” with no response, the blond headed for the kitchen, bowl in tow.
After rifling through Robert’s cavernous cabinets, Joseph managed to find another package of microwaveable popcorn. Why a cinema-junkie would settle for the most basic type of popcorn there was, he didn’t know, but he tossed the bag into the microwave without much of a second thought.
He downed an entire glass of water as he waited for the sound of kernels popping to slow, attempting to focus on the flow of the water down his throat and the sound of the microwave heating as opposed to the thoughts scratching at the back of his head. When the popcorn settled, he collected the bag and tore it open, nearly burning his face with steam in the process. Crisis averted, Joseph dumped the bag’s contents into the bowl and disposed of the leftover paper.
With his newly-filled bowl in hand, he turned to make his way back to the living room. Immediately upon lifting his head, Joseph caught the eyes of a shady figure standing in the doorway. His body involuntarily sprang up, knocking some of the popcorn loose from the bowl and onto the floor.
“Je—EEeeez,” Joseph elongated the word unnecessarily in an effort to avoid using the Lord’s name in vain. The rapid pace of his heart tried to regulate itself as he realized it was only Robert, “You scared me.”
The “shady figure” remained quiet, a stony look on his face that had Joseph gripping the bowl tighter. He looked at him with those eyes Joseph always swore could see right through him.
“What?”
Robert stepped closer, still silent and cold. He stared directly into Joseph’s eyes, as if searching for something. The gesture sent a wave of heat and unease to the other man’s head.
When Robert finally spoke, it felt like an accusation, “What’s up with you?”
“Huh?”
“What’s up? You’ve been acting weird.”
“No, I haven’t,” Joseph trained his eyes on everything but Robert, “You’re the one acting—”
“Why’re you so jumpy?”
“I’m not—”
The older man took another step closer, “Joseph.”
“I’m not!”
Robert paused, continuing to study Joseph’s face as he allowed the seconds to pass. His features softened. He looked sad, Joseph thought. When he spoke again, his voice was muted, “What’s wrong?”
Joseph hesitated, uncertain of how to answer, “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“If it’s bothering you, I’m worried about it.”
“I’m telling you, you shouldn’t.”
Robert’s brows furrowed, clearly agitated with Joseph’s resistance, “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because it’s—”
“Because what?” his voice raised slightly, urging the minister to face him head on, “Because it’s none of my business? Because it has nothing to do with me? Because it sure feels like it has something to do with me. You’ve been pushing me away all week, and you won’t even tell me—”
“Because maybe I’m embarrassed!” Joseph stared down at the popcorn bowl he was still clinging to, “Because maybe it’s stupid, and I don’t want to say it and have you tell me it’s stupid.”
Robert’s voice returned to its normal level, unnerved, “Nothing you say is stupid, Joseph.”
“That’s not true!” The blond’s head was a mess, and his frustration turned to unfiltered rambling, “You act like I’m so fucking great, but I’m not! I can’t even cook you a decent meal, and you want to act like I’m some sort of wet dream trophy husband!”
Flinching back at the revelation, a mix of shock and concern washed over Robert’s face, “That’s what this is about?”
Joseph’s head dropped, “I’ve been cooking for you and bringing snacks… and this whole time you were this great professional chef, and I’ve just been giving you boxed desserts and premade ingredients…” His face felt like it was on fire. He hated putting his emotions on display, so much so that he couldn’t even remember the last time someone saw him cry. Or someone other than Robert, anyway. It had only been once, but the memory was etched in his mind and he didn’t want to make a habit of creating additional engravings.
“Joseph, I don’t… I’m not judging your abilities,” Robert retrieved the bowl cradled in Joseph’s hands and moved it to a nearby counter, “The only part of cooking that matters to me is that you enjoy it. And if I… if I ruined that... I mean, I don’t have to cook for you. I don’t want to… take away your enjoyment of anything.”
“You don’t get it, Robert,” the urge to run and hide gnawed at him, “I don’t have anything. I’m not special.”
“That’s not true,” Robert took a final step forward, backing Joseph against the counter as the other man tried to retreat, “You’re nice, and you’re thoughtful—”
“Those aren’t skills, Robert! I’m not good at anything!” Joseph shook his head, brushing off any compliment directed at him.
Robert placed both hands on the counter on either side of Joseph, effectively trapping him in place, “Anyone can learn a skill, Joseph. It’s who you are that matters.”
With lips pursed, the blond refused to respond further, disgusted with the situation enough as it was. He contemplated pushing Robert out of his way and leaving, yet he remained frozen in his place between Robert and the counter.
Determined not to let it go, Robert leaned in closer so that their noses were almost touching, once again struggling for the eye contact Joseph seemed so intent on denying, “You’re kind-hearted, and you always want the best for everyone.” His voice was gentle, warm against Joseph’s skin, “You’re so much fun when you let yourself go… And you’ve got so much passion and love for things, and it’s incredible.”
Abruptly, Joseph shoved a hand against Robert’s mouth, “Stop. Stop it.” His entire body was burning hot, his brain no doubt unsure of how to react to all the emotions flooding in at once. He was embarrassed and angry with the situation he had found himself in, but the uncharacteristic sweetness in Robert’s words sent his head spinning in an entirely new way.
Removing one hand from the counter, Robert took the hand pressed against his face in his own. The pink tint coloring Joseph’s pale skin darkened as he watched the older man press delicate kisses to his palm. There was a fire in Robert’s eyes, the fever emanating from them igniting Joseph’s very core.
Robert’s breath burned against his skin as he spoke, “You want me to show you how good you are?”
With the meekest shake of his head, Joseph consented to whatever Robert was willing to give him.
Without a moment’s pause, the blond was hoisted up onto the counter, the impressive display of Robert’s strength overshadowing the momentary fear stabbing at Joseph’s brain. In the same motion, Robert carved himself a space between Joseph’s thighs and brought their bodies as close as the position would allow. The older man passed the younger’s lips and instead went straight for his neck. Joseph tilted his head to allow Robert more room, the overwhelming heat dazing him into compliance.
“You care about everyone you meet,” Robert spoke against the pale skin in between wet kisses, “and you do everything to make others happy.”
Rough hands crept up underneath Joseph’s shirt. The two parted as the characteristic pink material was lifted over Joseph’s head, the cool air now feeling like ice against the fire of his now exposed skin. The blond attempted to bring Robert into the same state of undress, only for the other man to silently move away from his advances as he moved to suck at the skin of Joseph’s collar.
“You’re funny, and you’re sweet, and you show enthusiasm for even the most mundane things,” Robert followed the contours of Joseph’s body, pressing a kiss every inch of the way from his chest, to his stomach, to his hips.
The belt around his waist was carefully undone as Joseph watched from above, eyes glossy and vision hazy. The entire world felt like it had stilled. The room was quiet apart from the rustling of his slacks and the sound of Robert’s half-whispers as all other sounds faded around them. It felt as if they were the only people on Earth, surrounded by nothing but the shadows cast by the dim glow of the kitchen light.
He wanted to be in this haze forever, just the two of them.
In the midst of this dream, Joseph felt the fabric of his bottoms—underwear and all—glide slowly past his waist and down his legs until he laid exposed against a surface not designed with this kind of meal in mind. The cold air against his skin only seemed to stimulate him further as his already half-hard cock twitched at its newfound freedom.
Robert bent down to continue trailing his mouth all across the newly revealed expanse of Joseph’s skin. Red marks slowly dotted the otherwise flawless canvas as the older man sucked and licked as if it was his only reason for existing.
As he focused on the sensitive area along his thighs, Joseph’s dick ached against him, the blond far too disoriented to think of caring for himself. A poorly-concealed whimper was pulled from his mouth, Robert’s hot eyes darting up in response.
“Don’t hold it in, Joseph,” as he spoke, Robert stood slightly to take Joseph’s most sensitive part in his hand. He glided his hand up and moved his thumb to twirl around the tip, slow and deliberate with every touch. “I want to hear you.”
Joseph’s head cocked back involuntarily, and a shaky breath breezed past his lips. Something about the situation completely seized any power he would normally hope to maintain. He wanted more contact, wanted to force the hand gripped around him to speed up, or just get to the next part already. But he couldn’t do more than meagerly push his hips up into the touch. His entire brain and body melted under Robert’s control.
“Rob…”
With a few more excruciatingly soft pumps, the other man kissed at the corner of Joseph’s mouth, “You don’t ever have to feel like you have to hide yourself from me.” In the next motion, he was settling between the minister’s thighs once more, leaving Joseph’s dick to fall untouched against his stomach again. “I’m not gonna judge you,” Robert took hold of both of Joseph’s legs to pull him closer, hands gripping underneath him shortly after for a better position, “I want to see every part of you.” He spread Joseph open, and without skipping a beat, his tongue found the sensitive ring of Joseph’s ass.
The blond’s head swung back, and his hips jerked forward in search of more, “Rob…ert—!”
Robert took the hint and began lapping at the small hole. His warm tongue swirled around the muscle and attempted to push past the entrance, every uninhibited moan and whine encouraging him to continue. Releasing one of Joseph’s thighs, he brought a hand between his legs to help in opening him up.
The feeling of both Robert’s mouth and fingers pressed against him had Joseph further consumed by blissful oblivion. Nothing in the world mattered. His job didn’t matter. His reputation didn’t matter. Needing to be perfect didn’t matter. This was all that mattered. Robert was all that mattered. Joseph could be whoever he wanted to be, as long as Robert was there.
A slick finger soon pushed passed his entrance, a wave of stinging pleasure shooting through his body. With what strength he could muster, Joseph tangled his slender fingers in Robert’s salt and pepper hair, ignoring his own dick as it twitched for any bit of relief.
The older man smiled into Joseph’s flesh as he continued to prod at his insides. One finger quickly became two as he worked to open up the tight hole. The grip on his hair tightened while the thrust of his fingers quickened in pace. Freeing his other hand, he undid his pants as quickly as he could to give his own cock the attention it desperately needed.
“Robert…” Joseph’s voice became increasingly pathetic as he had to practically fight his own body for oxygen.
Taking that as his cue, Robert hastily rose from his spot, bringing with him a condom and packet of lube he made sure to keep in his pockets at all times. After sliding on the condom, he gripped Joseph’s thighs once more and pulled him closer. Robert finally pressed his lips against the blond’s. Joseph wrapped his arms around Robert’s head, holding him tight against himself. Sweet kisses quickly devolved into a mess of tongues and spit. This combined with the feeling of Robert’s thick cock pressed against his ass to further stir the warmth bubbling inside the minister.
Pulling away the best he could, Robert spoke against Joseph’s mouth, “Can I see you?”
Joseph bit his lip and nodded his head, choosing to accept whatever implications the phrase may carry.
With his approval, Robert moved to reposition himself. Joseph kept his arms lax against the other man’s shoulders, wanting to encourage as much closeness as physically possible. Taking his pre-lubed dick in his hand, he guided himself to the minister’s entrance.
An unintended moan escaped Joseph as Robert slowly pressed inside of him, feeling himself opening up to accept everything he was being given in every sense. The world remained still as he was gradually filled up. A part of him wanted to remain like this forever. Another part of him was threatening to burst at any moment.
Starting with a few gentle thrusts, Robert tried to work the blond open a bit more. They had done this enough times for him to know how accommodating Joseph was, but he enjoyed taking the time to ease into it when they could. Soon, he was working up to a steady pace. His hips rolled back and forth, establishing a nice rhythm for the two of them.
“You’re so good, Joseph.”
“Fuck…” the minister never liked to swear, but the feeling of Robert’s hard cock thrusting in and out of him made every one of his inhibitions die off immediately, “Fuck, Robert…”
Robert maintained his tempo, pounding against Joseph’s ass with a distinctive slap. The sounds of their breathing and skin against skin filled the otherwise silent home. They reveled in the togetherness, the connectedness, the oneness.
“You want more?” he gripped the blond’s thighs tight between his calloused hands.
“Yeah—Yes… Yes, Robert—”
The older man quickened his pace, fast and rough and everything Joseph wanted.
“Fuck—! Rob—Fuck…” Joseph interlocked his arms and legs around Robert, still begging for more contact.
Without stopping, Robert connected their mouths once more, tongue and lips desperate in their movements. Pre-cum lathered Joseph’s stomach as his cock jerked against him, unattended yet overstimulated. Disconnecting the kiss, the blond pulled forward to lay his head over Robert’s shoulder, frantically trying to move his hips in rhythm for further stimulation. His entire body was hot and beaded with sweat, and Robert’s own burned against his skin.
“You good, baby?”
“So good… Fuck, so good.”
“You feel good,” Robert’s thrusts grew frenzied, nails digging into Joseph’s thighs as he tried to force himself deeper, “Shit, Joseph.”
“Robert…”
Practically prying his hand away, Robert released his grip on Joseph to bring a hand to the latter’s underappreciated member. The sudden contact ripped a sharp breath from the minister and his hard cock sprung to life. Robert moved his hand in tune with his thrusts, tightening and softening his grip as he slid along the shaft. Pre-cum continued to spill from the tip, coating itself and Robert’s hand as he pumped.
“Robert—Rob—Fuck—!” Joseph deteriorated into a shaky, sobbing wreck, overtaken by the warmth and pleasure and love overflowing from within him.
“You feel so good around my cock—you sound so good… Fuck, you’re so good, Jo.”
Stars began to cloud the minister’s vision as that familiar tightness in his abdomen proceeded to build, “Fuck, Robert—Rob—Robbie—!”
“C’mon, baby,” Robert gave all he could, pounding into Joseph as deep as he could go with every thrust, “Cum for me. Let me see how good you feel.”
With only a few more thrusts, Joseph could feel the tension grow too strong to handle, “Robbie! Rob—” His voice cut off as the air was torn from his lungs, his entire body tensing and convulsing as the force of his orgasm shot through his entire body. Hot cum coated his stomach and Robert’s hand.
Robert continued his movement through Joseph’s orgasm, coming to a head shortly after with a loud groan. His hips and voice stuttered as he came down, hot and heavy all over.
The firm grasp around the older man relaxed as Joseph’s strength disappeared. He collapsed onto the countertop, Robert hunching to lie on top of him. For a moment, they laid there panting, sweaty and fully content with the world. It took a while before either of them could move or speak. Despite the uncomfortable location, they were intent on basking in the afterglow.
“Robert…” Joseph whispered to no one in particular, lifting a hand to rest in Robert’s fluffy hair.
Robert moved to lock eyes with the blond, smiling in a way that softened every one of his features. When he looked like this, Joseph couldn’t imagine how anyone could think he was scary.
Their lips met once more before Robert parted to speak, “You’re not perfect, Joseph. But you are absolutely special.”
Joseph’s eyelids fluttered. He wanted to say something, wanted to express to Robert just how good he made him feel, or return the sentiment in some way. But he couldn’t find the words, didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to say it. He just hoped he could show Robert, in time.
Contentment never leaving his face, Robert stood and grabbed a towel to wipe themselves off. Cleaned off somewhat, he extended a hand to help bring Joseph to his feet. Accepting the offer, the minister took his hand and slid off the counter, his wobbly legs not yet ready for such an effort.
“Think you can make it to bed?” a free hand met Joseph’s hip as Robert tried to steady him.
Voice still tired, Joseph pleaded, “Is the couch an option?”
Robert snorted, “Always.”
The two began making their way back to the living room, leaving an uneaten bowl of popcorn and sweat-soaked counters for tomorrow. Joseph was brought to the couch and silently instructed to wait while Robert worried about pillows and blankets. After everything was setup as much as it reasonably had to be, Joseph allowed the older man to lie down first, crawling over him to lay his head on his chest soon after.
“Maybe you could teach me how to cook,” Joseph mumbled into his still warm skin.
Robert ran his fingers through Joseph’s golden hair, “I dunno, I kinda like what you make.”