Recipe for Love {BoyxBoy} [ON HOLD TEMPORARILY]

Cream, Cuffs and Curiosity.

I awoke feeling different... More alive somehow. I had my back to Stuart whose arm was draped over me, my legs entwined with his. I maneuvered my hand until it rested on his and laced our fingers together. Breathing in deeply, I sighed with content.

Gently lifting his hand away from me, I tried sliding out of the bed. Stuart stirred in his slumber and closed the distance, but dropped his arm so it was between us. There was no other option. Slowly, and as slightly as I could manage, I started wiggling my bottom half until my legs poked out from beneath the duvet. I twisted them, rather unnaturally actually, until my feet were resting on the soft carpet.

Now struggling to breathe, due to the uncomfortable position I was in, I carefully peeled back the covers and gradually lifted myself from the bed, taking a moment to stare in awe at the Sleeping Beauty I was leaving behind.

He looked peaceful as he slept on, unaware of my absence, and his mouth was curved into a slight smile. As much as I wanted to crawl back into bed, I was hungry. Ravenous, even. I peeked through the bedroom curtains and saw that the sky was clear and there was a blanket of frost over the town.

I then realised that I hadn't actually seen his room. Well, I had, but I'd not taken any of it in. So I explored, with my eyes, as I quietly tiptoed towards the door. My gaze started on Stuart, laying under deep red bed sheets, and followed his outline across the room to the wardrobe. In the dark, I couldn't quite tell what wood it was made from. Not that I'd know if it was dazzlingly bright in there, but it looked to match the rest of the furniture.

Once I had reached the hallway, I crept downstairs and, upon placing my foot on the ground floor, ran to the kitchen.

"Need... Nommy... Foody... Niceness," I whined aloud to myself as I opened the fridge. Its contents surprised me a little, Stuart being a chef and all; a half eaten microwave pizza, a bowl of take-away pasta and a few other odds and ends. Then again, I suppose after a morning of cooking at work, I doubt I'd want to start cooking at home.

Grabbing the leftover pizza - I doubted he'd mind, and it always tastes better after a few days - I rammed my mouth full, groaning with pleasure. Food is good. But this food was nowhere near enough to satisfy me; I needed meat. No, not that sort of meat, sausages or something. After a night out, I always craved meat! No idea why, it's just my thing.

After climbing the stairs and locating yesterday's outfit in the spare room (not the sweaty, stinky going-out outfit, the other one) I dressed and headed into town in search of actual sustenance.

The air was crisp and the wind biting, and, when I suddenly realised I was on my backside, I noticed the ground was rather slippery. Easing myself off of the floor, I heard a giggle from somewhere nearby. I turned to face the culprit and saw Chris crossing from the other side of the road.

He looked a little worse for wear with crazy hair and last night's clothes. Then his hands caught my attention. In one was a can of squirty cream and the other held a set of handcuffs. Oh, God...

"Hey, Mr. Doormat! What did you get up to last night then?" he shouted as he walked towards me, "Leave with that tall guy you were all over?"

"I wasn't all over him," I frowned, "But yeah... Don't think I need to ask what you did last night."

He glanced down at his hands, then looked at me, blushing slightly.

"Yeah, I had an awesome night! And thanks, by the way. For getting me in, then rescuing me, then helping me... You get the picture," he smiled, joining me on my trek towards town.

We talked some more on the way and I actually managed to get a decent conversation out of him in his sober state. He kept trying to slip in the gory details of his night with the policeman, but I was a master of subject changes.

We had agreed to go to McDonald's and, once we'd ordered our food and were seated, my phone rang in my pocket. It was Stuart, letting me know he was awake and asking where I was. He seemed a little worried so I assured him I hadn't abandoned him and in no way regretted last night. Nothing happened, mind you. We had just arrived home and gone to bed, falling asleep pretty much as soon as our heads hit the pillow.

You thought I'd slept with him, didn't you! Well, I'm appalled. I'm not that easy you know, and we've only just kicked things off... Meanie!

 Chris tried putting me off by making pouty faces and saying random things as I was talking. He failed miserably! The joys of having a younger brother; you learn quite quickly to ignore things. After I'd said my goodbyes to Stuart and finished my meal, I asked Chris what he was doing for the day.

"Sleeping," he answered, simple as that, winking.

I arrived back at Stuarts carrying a paper bag, the contents of which smelled delicious. I opened the door and kicked off my shoes, before looking for my boyfriend.

"Honey, I'm home!" I called, chuckling to myself as I entered the living room, "And I brought yummy McDonald's goodness for you!"

Stuart popped his head out of the kitchen and grinned from ear to ear. Why he was in such a good mood, I had no clue, so I asked him. He said he was just in a really happy, surprisingly not hungover, frame of mind that morning. I laughed and handed him his breakfast, which he tucked into straight away.

After devouring half of it, he stopped to breathe and ask me, "Who were you with earlier?"

I explained I'd seen Chris, the emo-boy from last night, and he'd accompanied me for food. Stuart's smile seemed to falter for a moment.

"What's up, chuck?" I asked, curious.

"The boy you kept wandering off with last night?"  he replied rather hesitantly, as if trying to choose the right words.

Brilliant! We only just started going out and he already thinks I'm cheating on him. Chris was in no way my type and was already taken (apparently many times), and I was more than happy with Stuart. Ecstatic, even! But, I was his first male partner and we gays tend to have a bit of a reputation for sleeping around. Hell, half the gays I know had been with each and every other in the same group! Kinda weird really...

"Stuaaart," I groaned, "Nothing happened, if that's what you mean? I'm with you, gladly with you, and this is the way it's gonna stay. Well, until you get bored of me, or I annoy you too much, or... Or die."

My last point seemed to cheer him up and he said that, with my clumsiness, that was to be the most likely cause of the relationship's demise. We both laughed, relieved that all was good and we had nothing to worry about.

As Stuart cleared away his rubbish, and I flicked through the TV channels looking for something to amuse myself with, the doorbell rang. I decided it best to let Stuart get it as it wasn't my house. That, and the fact that me being there so early could prove to be an awkward thing to explain.

I watched Stuart as he made his way to he front door, checking out his butt as he walked past, and listened intently. What? I was curious!

"He- Oh! Becky... Erm... What are you doing here?"