“This morning.”
“That too.”
Benito laughed. The tension knotting his shoulders faded, and he leant against Mickey, his weight gifting Mickey the comforting warmth he’d craved all along.
They lay together for a long moment before Mickey remembered he was the only one who’d had a mind-shaking orgasm. “You know I can blow you too, right? Don’t be shy.”
Benito snorted. “You might have to give me ten minutes. I shot my load just watching you.”
“For real?”
“Real talk. You have no idea how hot you are.”
Deflection bubbled so fast up Mickey’s throat itburned, but Benito’s stomach growled before he could speak, and concern overtook him. “Damn, you missed breakfast.”
“We slept through it.” Benito shrugged. “I’ll get something later.”
“Fuck off. I’ll bring you something. Wait here.”
Mickey detached himself from Benito’s warm embrace and slid out of bed. His feet hit the bare floorboards and he ducked out of the bedroom before Benito could protest.
Naked, he padded downstairs and into the kitchen. As luck would have it, a basket of clean clothes was on the counter. For the sake of his neighbours, he found a pair of clean sweats and dragged them on. Then he opened the fridge and pondered the contents.
Living alone, he didn’t cook much, especially in the morning, but the soul-deep urge to take care of Benito was impossible to ignore. And he had bacon, obviously. Because, well, bacon.
Mickey scrambled eggs and grilled the bacon. Then he toasted English muffins to go with and slathered them in butter.
He had no milk, but a vague memory of Gianna telling him everyone she knew drank black coffee let him worry about it less as he climbed the stairs.
Benito was exactly where he’d left him, sprawled out on his bed, poking at the phone Mickey knew to be the one Gianna called him on.His legal phone.
Stop it. Just ten more minutes... please?
Mickey ignored the phone and held out the plate and coffee mug. “Back in a sec.”
He ran back for his own and returned to find Benito sitting up, grinning as if he’d won the fucking lottery. “Wow. This is the first breakfast I haven’t paid someone to make me since I was about fourteen.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Mickey cautioned. “At best, it won’t kill you.”
Benito looked as though he had more to say, but his appetite got the better of him, and wouldn’t you know? Watching a fine dude eat a plate of food Mickey had cooked was the hottest thing ever.
After, Benito disappeared downstairs to clean up. That was pretty hot too, but with reality closing in, Mickey forced himself into the shower instead of following him and pressing him up against the kitchen sink.
When he was done, Benito took his turn and dressed in the clothes he’d worn to the club. “Gianna messaged me. She’s locked herself out of her iPad. I gotta take her to the Apple store to get it fixed, but I can come back after and take you to your car?”
Mickey shook his head. “Nah. It’s too far out of your way. I’ll get a cab later.”
“That’s gonna rinse you.”
“Serves me fucking right.”
Benito mauled his bottom lip with his teeth. Mickey regarded him from the bed where he’d stretched out in denial that it was past lunchtime and he had a million things to do. “You know I’m just going to get my car, don’t you? I’m not going in the club.”
“Not my business if you do, mate.”
“Yeah, but I meant what I said last night—this morning—whenever it was. I kind of lost track.”
“You remember everything you said?”