Jacob hefts the heavy grocery bags up onto the counter with a relieved sigh. He flexes his hands and frowns at the red lines left behind by the handles that cut across his palms. He doesn't tend to wish they had a car, but sometimes, when he's got a gallon of milk and what feels like six pounds of apples, he at least thinks that having the option would be nice. Not that he's eager to drive through LA at rush hour or anything.
He's pulling items out of the bags and putting them away into the fridge and cupboards when he hears Troye's footsteps behind him.
"Hey, I didn't know you were getting groceries. You could have asked for some help you know." Troye's voice is teasingly reproachful and Jacob glances over his shoulder to where Troye is watching him put away their groceries.
"Nah, I got it." Jacob stretches to throw a box of spaghetti noodles up onto the proper shelf, and if he exaggerates the movement to show off the muscles of his back, well, that's his prerogative. He can feel the heat of Troye's gaze on him and it never fails to make him blush with anticipation, just a little, even after all this time.
"I know you wanted to try and recreate that lemon risotto we had the other week from that place in New York, so I picked up a couple of lemons and some Arborio rice, because the Internet told me that was the best kind for it and-" the rest of Jacob's shopping list gets cut off by the swift press of Troye's lips against his. Jacob makes a muffled sound of surprise and pleasure that gets swallowed up by Troye's mouth. He drops the onion he'd been about to put into the shallow wooden bowl on the counter and doesn't care as it rolls across the floor.
Jacob's lips part so easily for Troye and his eyes close against the familiar surge of heat in his belly, and the rich, soft feel of Troye's tongue. They've kissed thousands of times in thousands of ways, but each one still feels exhilarating and wonderful and precious. It's all familiar and all perfect - the way Troye lets him control the kiss, how Troye sucks on his upper lip and nips at his lower one, the way Troye's fingers tangle in his hair and tug just hard enough to send shivers across Jacob's scalp and all through his body. The way Troye's kisses always taste of fresh mint.
He wraps his arms tight around Troye, uncaring of the rest of the groceries (it's not like anything will spoil in next 15 minutes), and pulls him close to his body, needing the solid weight of Troye against him. Jacob shifts his legs apart and holds back a moan when Troye slips a slim thigh between his and nudges up with a tantalizing bit of pressure; he can feel Troye already half-hard against his hip. He shivers at the slick, wet slide of Troye's tongue in his mouth and the way Troye's small hands grip hard at his hips. He's ok with it if Troye wants to leave a few bruises.
But Jacob wants more than a few, albeit wonderful, kisses. He wants heat and touch and Troye's smooth skin under his palms and he pulls at the hem of Troye's shirt, struggling to get it out of the way, but he just smiles against his mouth and pushes his grasping hands away.
"Troye," he tries to protest, but he kisses him quiet.
Troye's cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, his lips are swollen and red, and his big eyes have gone a dark, stormy blue. Jacob just knows that secret, devious look on his face – he knows what it means, but, standing in their kitchen with an onion rolling away somewhere and a carton of eggs at his elbow, it doesn't make any sense. Jacob groans from deep in his chest as Troye slowly drops to his knees on the hard floor.
Oh, he thinks fuzzily as the realization flares low and aching in his belly. Jacob will never, ever understand how this perfect creature is his. He is so in love with this man.
Thin, delicate fingers get his pants open with practiced ease and Jacob shudders when he feels his boyfriends thumbs dig into the sharp lines of his hips and drag down to slip under the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Troye knows how sensitive he is there, and he uses it to his every advantage; Jacob's legs are already trembling and he can feel the flush spreading down his chest.
