Page 48 of Baking Battles

“I do, don’t I? Maybe I’m growing up.” Christopher almost looks sad.

“Never grow up. I like you. Just as you are.”

“And there goes my boyfriend. Quoting Bridget Jones at me and it’s not even eight o'clock in the morning.”

Mattias just stares at him. Him. He likes Christopher. Every strange, quirky, weird little piece of him.

“You good, baby?” Christopher asks, shooting him a smile and a wink.

“I’m just stressed.” Mattias whines, tugging at his hair and sweeping his now-cold espresso in one foul hit. “I’m so way out of my depth here, it’s not funny. I mean, Pablo. He will love this crap. Paulina will produce perfection, and Louise will bring out something covered in whipped cream. Alima? I don’t want to think about Alima.”

“Don’t think about Alima.” Christopher giggles. “I love Alima to bits, but I don’t think you should be thinking of her right now.”

“Why not?” Mattias almost crumples up the piece of paper in his hand. Stupid notes. Fucking ridiculous recipes.

“My sweet, dear, innocent, little Matti-baby.” Christopher sasses, then gets up from his chair and sinks to his knees between Mattias’s legs.

“I’m neither sweet, nor innocent.” Mattias hisses. “And don’t call me Matti-baby. Just… don’t.”

“Oh, you love it, and don’t I know it.” Christopher giggles as his hands are tugging at Mattias’s jeans. Opening his fly button with a determined smile, then holding Mattias’s gaze whilst he slowly leans over and grabs the zip toggle of Mattias’s fly with his teeth.

“What are you doing, Christopher?” Mattias tries to sound stern, when in fact he has a very good idea of what Christopher is doing.

“You’re all stressed? You said so yourself. And I told you, there is nothing I like more in the mornings than a cup of tea and a blow job.”

His face is all relaxed, as he looks up at Mattias who honestly doesn’t know if he wants to kiss the man on his knees in front of him or sink through the floor with embarrassment. Because of course Christopher just yanks Mattias’s cock right out of his underpants, and of course, Mattias is all hard and flustered, and of course Christopher just smiles. Just gives Mattias one of those little smiles and Mattias turns into a puddle of nothing.

“What are you doing?” He whines out in a pathetic little voice.

“I’m just helping you de-stress. Like a good massage. You will be all relaxed and chilled in less than five minutes. Maybe four. I’m very good at blow jobs.” Christopher doesn’t speak after that as he sucks one of Mattias’s balls into his mouth, the shock of it all making Mattias almost fall off the rickety kitchen chair, managing to catch his fall by grabbing onto the sink with one hand, and the kitchen table with the other, and he pants and kind of moans, and thanks his lucky stars, or whatever, that Emi is with Sara. Because he could get used to this. He likes this. A lot.

“Ahhhrhhrh.” He roars as Christopher’s tongue starts to lick circles around the head of his cock, poking gently at his slit as Christopher’s hand is snaking its way up under Mattias’s shirt, soft gentle movements of his fingers, a little cold against his skin.

“Fuck!” He shouts and his body jerks as Christopher’s nails scratch over his nipple. His already-erect nipple and his skin is on fire and his hips seem to be dancing along with Christopher’s head, that is bobbing gently in his lap.

“You liked it.” Christopher says, a little hoarse, as he releases Mattias’s cock with a soft pop. “You pumped out a squirt of pre cum into my mouth as I pinched your nipple. Fuck I’m so hard. Sorry, just need to give Mr Cock some attention here.”

Yeah, because Christopher is like that. Mattias is learning fast as he lets his hips slide a little further down the chair so Christopher can tug his jeans down, and then Christopher pushes his own jeans right down, gets his own cock out and starts stroking himself. Right there in front of Mattias, who leaks a little again. Yes. He likes this. He definitely likes this. Like he ever doubted that he would. Because somehow, this is just. It’s... words. There are no words good enough to describe this.

“Touch yourself.” Christopher whispers.

Mattias does. Not that it’s not weird. Not that this is something Mattias would ever entertain doing. It’s just so not his thing. This. In the full sharp lighting from the kitchen lamp, and the window blinds open over the trees outside, and this ridiculous man on his knees in front of him, with his trousers straining over his thighs, and his cock on display and his hand jerking himself off and his eyes are all wet and glazed over and his jaw, with those lips, those lips that are wet and glistening in the light right there in front of him.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” How Christopher can still speak is beyond Mattias, because right now, he has totally lost his ability to open his mouth. His hand moving in some kind of dreamlike spasm over his length, his hips shivering with every movement and his own hand meeting Christopher’s mouth as he leans back over and swallows Mattias down to the root. Making little soft humming noises as his tongue does devilish things to that cock of his. HRH Sir Dick. Or whatever. It’s hard to think coherent thoughts when Christopher is staring at him from down there, with Mattias’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth, and Christopher’s eyes are watering with the effort, and he is gagging a little, but Mattias is learning to trust him. Just that little wink just before he takes him all the way down and Mattias throws his head back and let’s his voice rip. He shouts. Roars. Comes so hard, he thinks his head might just snap off his shoulders.

It shouldn’t be this good. It should be illegal for something to feel that good. His heart beating out of his chest and his breath panting like he’s been running and his cheeks glowing, his mouth dry as the desert.

“Oh God.” Christopher whispers as he obviously comes. His face frozen in a snarl, and his eyes squeezed shut as something warm and wet hits Mattias’s bare feet. And again.

“Chris… topher.” Mattias whispers.

“Yeah baby?” His head is resting against Mattias’s knees. His voice directed at the floor.

“I’m totally with you on the tea and blow-job thing. I think we should make it a thing. “

“It’s already a thing.” Christopher puffs. “Although I think we need a pillow for this floor, my knees are killing me.”

“I’ll get you a pillow.” Mattias laughs. “The blow-job pillow. Just don’t call it that in front of Emi.”

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