Dante hustled him inside and made him watch as he cooked one of the exactly two dishes that he’d managed to become proficient at—Paolo’s pasta with garlic and greens and Paolo’s pasta with garlic and tomatoes.
It was the turn of the tomatoes tonight. Dante set the sauce to simmer and turned to find Sid a hair’s breadth behind him.
“Why is that so hot?” Sid breathed.
“What?”
“Everything about you.” Sid kissed Dante with far more force than he had in the garden. “I watch Rhonda cook all the time, but the second you stand in my kitchen I get all fucking flustered.”
“Flustered?”
“Translation: horny as fuck.” Sid took Dante’s mouth again, tugging him away from the stove and against his chest and caging him with his strong arms. Something imperceptible shifted, the way it often did on the rare occasions the heat between them boiled over into actual fucking, and the hardness in his loose trousers was unmistakable.
Dante’s heart skipped a beat. Learning from past misjudgements, he reached behind him, turned off the burner, and kissed Sid back, guiding him out of the kitchen.
The couch was the closest place to fall, but Sid shook his head. “Bedroom. I want you.”
They stumbled down the hall. The bed was unmade as Sid had been the last to leave it, and Dante’s back hit rumpled sheets as Sid tumbled him down. Clothes disappeared and Dante wrapped a hand around Sid’s rigid cock. “What do you want?”
Sid thrust into Dante’s tight grip, vibrating, a low groan escaping him. “Everything.”
He didn’t have to define it. A promise unsaid was still a promise, even if it was one Dante had made to himself that the next time Sid was willing and able, he was going to ask him to do the one thing they’d never done.
Dante rose up on his knees, still working Sid’s cock. “Will you fuck me?”
Sid’s eyes flew open. “Now?”
“Yeah. Now. I want it. I wantyou.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would I lie?”
“No.”
“So do it.”
Sid licked his lips, another tremor rocking him. “I’ve dreamed about it—about you, about being with you like this, ever since I met you.”
“Dreams come true, motherfucker. Do your worst.”
“Nah, you deserve the best.”
“Then give it to me.”
Sid lay Dante down, then reached for the bedside drawer. They didn’t use condoms anymore but possessed a lifetime supply of lube. Sid tossed a bottle on the bed and covered Dante with his body, legs entwining, cocks pressed together. He kissed Dante senseless, then moved down the bed, taking Dante down his throat as he worked him open with his fingers.
Eyes screwed shut, breathless moans left Dante’s lungs. They were good at this part—well, Sid was. He knew every spot inside Dante that made him writhe and shake. That made him come so hard he saw stars. But that wasn’t happening tonight, not yet. Sid tortured Dante until he was covered in sweat and so hard he thought he might die. Then he pulled back, a soft haze clouding his cornflower gaze. “Ready?”
“For you?”
“Yeah.”
Dante smiled a blissful smile. “So fucking ready. I love you.”
* * *
Dante told Sid he loved him a lot, but as Sid pressed inside his hot, willing body, it had never meant so much.This isn’t sex. It’s love, and it’s as beautiful as he is.