Recipe for Love {BoyxBoy} [ON HOLD TEMPORARILY]

If feet were cake, I'd be obese...

I awoke to a sharp pain in my head. Glancing around, half panicked, I realised I was floating. No, not floating. I was being carried through a doorway. By Stuart!

"Did we get married?" I murmured, a little out of it.

"What?" he laughed, "No, sorry. We had a little argument and you fell, remember?"

"Fell? You knocked me over, you plank!" I did remember, all too clearly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It was a bit slippy. Your dramatic storming-off didn't help matters though."

It wasn't dramatic, I thought. Not at all! It was completely justified.

Stuart kicked the door shut behind him and placed me on my feet, leading me through to what seemed to be a living room. He pointed to a chair and wandered off through another door on the far side of the room, returning with a bag of frozen veg.

"I know what I'll be getting you for Christmas," he smiled as I sat, taking the peas from him and placing them on my head. "We need to talk."

"About?" I asked, wincing at the sharp coldness against my sore scalp.

"The kiss."

Oh, the kiss... I was just about over it as well. Looking around, I decided I was in Stuart's living room. He must have carried me home to tend to my wounds. Aaawww! No, I'm annoyed. Very annoyed.

"What about it? I thought it was stupid and just for a laugh?" I grumbled, staring at the floor.

"It was supposed to be," Stuart started, sighing, "but it was... nice. I know it's my fault, I started it off, but you didn't seem to mind."

"I was confused," I lied.

"So, we just forget it happened, then? Is that what you want?"

A little part of me died as I nodded. It was amazing, I can't deny that, but he was with someone. And apparently straight! Not that he'd ever said that, I'd just assumed...

Stuart accepted my answer, replying, "Okay then... Friends? We good?"

We were. The rest of the evening was spent by Stuart ripping my to shreds over my clumsiness and my trying not to laugh and act all angry. I failed miserably and, before long, we were both in fits of hysterical laughter with tears streaming down our faces.

At one point, both our phones rang simultaneously and we answered in unison. Stuart had Meika and I had Gemma, both from work, asking if we were joining them on a night out that night. I agreed before Stuart had replied and looked at him eagerly, indicating that he should come too. He agreed and said his goodbyes as I arranged the details with Gemma.

By this point I'd forgotten all about my prior unconsciousness and was busily planning the night's outfit. I decided I wanted to look pretty for my first night out with Stuart. It wasn't a date or anything, but I'd be drunk and dancing and, most likely, all over him.

I came to the conclusion I had a sufficient outfit in with my shopping. I bought lotsof treats that day. Stuart told me to stay at his for a pre-drink drink and to get ready. I agreed, though not too eagerly, and we got started with preparations. I was on drink duty and grabbed a few bottles from his kitchen cupboard. I'd never heard of half of them so proceeded to mix it all together until it made a pretty colour; guaranteed immensity.

Taking a sip of my drink to test it, I almost choked. It was nice, don't misunderstand, but it was strong. Really strong. Happy with my concoction, I made my way upstairs with the drinks in my hands and my bags hooked on my arms.

As I reached the top of the stairs, Stuart opened the bathroom door. In a towel. Droool! He asked me to put his duck on the surfboard and told me I could arrange the chair room. At least, I think that's what he said. I was too busy being mesmerized by his torso. He was surprisingly buff! I thought he'd only be a scrawny thing.

"Hello?" he half-shouted, waving his hand in front of my face.

"Sorry, what?"

"Put the drink... On the sideboard... Change... In the spare room..." he said, as if I were deaf. I wasn't, just plain oblivious.

"Oh!" I grinned, actually hearing him this time. I did as he said and tootled off with my bags. I soon popped my head back out of the spare room. No, not to perve! Well, maybe a little. But I had a question; "Where's the girlfriend?"

"At home, probably sleeping with the man she cheated on me with."

Oh, balls!