Page 26 of Painted

It was amazinghow confidence in one area led to even more confidence in another. Early felt buoyed by the way so many things had gone right for them throughout the day. They’d finished more work down in the office than they’d thought they could do in one day, and when it came time to clock out, they’d hurried up to Rhys’s flat with a wealth of ideas for how to make it the best day of their life.

They were going to go for it. They’d decided as much halfway through the day, when the buzz of stripping for Rhys’s class stayed with them past lunch and into the afternoon. They’d snuck a peek at a few sights with advice for seducing your crush during their lunch hour, and as soon as they’d let themselves into Rhys’s flat, relieved that Rhys wasn’t there yet, they headed straight for the shower to wash. To washeverything.

Fresh out of the shower, they dressed with shaking hands in a pair of silk pajamas they’d found in the clothes room. No underwear, of course. Then they’d thrown on a turquoise flower-patterned kimono they’d also found in the clothes room before heading into the kitchen to do what they did best.

Early loved cooking, but their mum also loved cooking, so it was a rare occasion when they got to pull out all the stops and make a meal. They’d pored through the contents of Rhys’s fridge earlier in the day to plan the meal, and within minutes of stepping out of the bathroom, they had the oven heating, a frying pan heating on the hob, and a wealth of ingredients spread over the kitchen counters.

It was so easy to imagine themself as Rhys’s partner, taking care of him and making certain he had everything he needed at the end of a long and stressful workday. Sure, it was a little bit nineteen-fifties creepy housewife, but they loved the idea that they and Rhys could fit together in perfect, domestic harmony.

They turned on the radio to an upbeat pop station and hummed or sang along as they seasoned the meat and popped it in the oven, then went to work sautéing veggies while simultaneously making a balsamic plumb sauce from scratch.

It all felt so comfortable, so right. That was astounding, considering almost nothing in the last few years of their life had made a lick of sense. For those blessed few moments when they were just bopping around Rhys’s kitchen, cooking supper in their pajamas, the world felt exactly as it should be. No one was staring at them, trying to figure out if they were a man or a woman. They weren’t asking themselves those same questions. They were just Early, Rhys’s partner.

The beautiful illusion threatened to shatter when they heard the door open and Rhys step into the flat. This was it. Everything was on the line. The night would either end with them and Rhys tangled up in Rhys’s sheets or in utter embarrassment.

“Something smells good,” Rhys said, walking into the kitchen.

His entire face lit up at the sight of Early standing by the stove in their silky robe, their hair caught up in a flirty ponytail, their skin still fresh and warm from the shower.

“I made supper,” they said, assuming a slightly fey pose and keeping their voice soft as they smiled. They couldn’t keep up the sweet, seductive thing for more than a few seconds, though, and rushed into, “I just love to cook is all and I haven’t been able to do it for a long time, because my mum always cooks at home and you’ve been cooking here. I can throw it out if you want, though, if you want to cook.”

They wanted to kick themselves as soon as their verbal tsunami ended. They needed to play it far cooler than that if they were going to accomplish the seduction they had in mind for the night.

Rhys pretended that nothing humiliating had just happened. “It looks incredible,” he said, coming to stand beside Early at the stove and to glance at everything bubbling away on the hob. “Did you buy some sort of meal kit or did you make this all yourself?”

“I made it myself,” Early said, fighting to fall back into the proud, flirty feelings they’d had before Rhys had arrived. “I told you, I’m an excellent cook. Here. Taste.”

They reached for the wooden spoon they’d been stirring the sauce with and slipped it through the bubbling pan, then held it up for Rhys.

It was like a scene from a romantic movie. Rhys grinned at them, something hot and expectant in his eyes, then closed his hand over Early’s as it held the spoon. He leaned in and tasted the sauce, not too sensual, but definitely not indifferently, then smiled as if he were surprised by the taste.

“That is good,” he said, taking a step back and looking at the hob again. “What are we having?”

“Roasted chicken with balsamic plum sauce, vegetables sautéed in my secret blend of herbs, and herb butter roasted potatoes,” Early replied with a flirty lilt.

“That sounds amazing,” Rhys said with a groan that had Early’s cock taking notice.

“It’s almost done,” they said, trying to match the tone. “Have a seat and I’ll serve you.”

And with any luck, they’d get to serve Rhys in a lot more ways than that after the meal.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Rhys said, sitting at the kitchen table. “And you’ve set the table so nicely, too.”

That was also deliberate. Early had zipped outside to pick some wildflowers, which now stood in a vase in the center of the table, at lunch, then set the table with the best dishes they could find right after their shower.

They buzzed with excitement that was definitely focused low in their groin as they took everything out of the oven, plated it up, and presented Rhys with a plate before sitting across from him with their own. Food was supremely sexual, and Early definitely felt as though they were laying themself on the table along with the chicken.

“How was the rest of your day?” they asked, imagining all the things they and Rhys would talk about if they were an item for real. “The kids who came out of your class this afternoon looked like they had a great time.”

“They did,” Rhys said, smiling at his memory, at the food, and finally at Early. “They got paint everywhere, but I never did mind a bit of a mess.”

Early’s heart skipped a beat. That was flirting, they were sure. They were a mess and Rhys was saying that he didn’t mind that.

“Painted things are bright and colorful,” they said, spearing some of the vegetables with their fork and trying to figure out how to eat them sexily. “I wouldn’t mind being painted.”

“That’s something I want to ask you about, actually,” Rhys said, actually managing to take a bite of chicken and chew it in a way that had the front of Early’s pajamas tenting.

“Oh?” Early asked, tilting their head so they could look up at Rhys through their eyelashes.

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