Rhys dashed up the stairs to his flat with seconds to spare. Jevon had buzzed him inside, and as he neared the front door, the delicious scent of something he’d never dream of cooking was everywhere.
The front door was on the latch. Rhys pushed inside and followed the smell to the kitchen where Jevon was tossing something around in a pan that definitely didn’t belong in Rhys’s kitchen. “All right, mate?”
“Rhys!” Jevon turned the burner off and set the pan aside.
Rhys pounced on him, kissing him, and backed him against the counter. “Fuck, it’s good to see you.”
The words were mumbled against Jevon’s lips, and they lost a battle with his roving tongue. Gasping, Rhys shoved his hands past Jevon’s clown clothes, roaming the smooth skin he found there, and unbuttoned Jevon’s ridiculous trousers. Jevon was a tall bloke and not much leaner than Rhys, but lifting him onto the counter was easy. Swallowing his thick cock made sense, and minutes later, swallowing every drop of his come was a balm to Rhys’s bitter soul.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jevon banged his head on the cupboard behind him, panting. “You’re a whirlwind.”
Rhys straightened up, licking his lips. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Not by me.” Jevon seized Rhys’s jacket and yanked him close, snapping his teeth in Rhys’s face. “Now get your arse up here.”
Minutes later, it was Rhys’s turn to come with a startled yell, his fingers carving grooves into Jevon’s skull as he clutched at his head.Best day ever.
He came back into himself with a happy sigh. The sound surprised even him, but he let it go and slid from the counter. Jevon steadied him, then turned his attention to whatever magic he’d cooked up in the giant pan, his trousers still undone and hanging low enough to give Rhys a second wind.
Rhys left his own jeans open and came up behind Jevon, wrapping his arms tight around him, burying his face between his strong shoulder blades. His still half-hard dick pressed between Jevon’s cheeks, but he tried to ignore how amazing it felt and bit down on Jevon’s neck, revelling in his squirm. “I can’t decide what I’m most hungry for—you or whatever sorcery you have in that shiny thing.”
“Dude, it’s a wok.”
“If you say so.”
Jevon chuckled and drew the wok towards him. “It’s just a stir fry. You had nothing but MSG-noodle junk in your cupboards.”
“I wasn’t expecting company, but if you ever meet my brother, do me a favour and don’t gossip about the nutritional state of my kitchen cupboards. I don’t need that lecture in my life.”
Jevon said nothing. Just exhaled slowly, like he was bracing himself for a storm. Rhys frowned and spun him around. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Am I?” A hint of a smile played on Jevon’s lips... a whisper of mischief, but there was something else too.
Something that squeezed the giddy feeling Rhys had carried since their surprise Birmingham encounter. “Seriously. You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. What’s on your mind?”
“Two things,” Jevon said. “One you’ll probably like, and one that if you feel anything like me will probably make you want to drown yourself.”
Jevon wasn’t a man given to dramatics. Rhys pulled himself entirely from his lust-filled haze and reclaimed the functioning adult he’d left at the door. “Give me the bad news first.”
“Sure about that? ’Cause it’s pretty fucking shit.”
“Just tell me, man.”
Jevon sighed. “You know how I’m due back overseas just before Christmas?”
A painful band tightened around Rhys’s heart. “Yeah...”
“They’ve brought it forward. Someone on my camp needs to come home right now, so my troupe is going in early.”
“How early?”
“Two weeks. We fly out a week from Monday.”
A week from Monday.Jesus Christ. The wind left Rhys’s sails in one harsh breath. His hands tightened like vices around Jevon’s wrists, and the tic in his jaw rattled his teeth. For a horrifying moment, he thought he might cry, but then apathy set in, forced, as usual, by circumstances he couldn’t change. He pushed the pain from his heart and forced himself to meet Jevon’s broken gaze. “What was the good news?”