Page 107 of Daily Grind
Rob grunted. “There’s always our feet.” He stretched out his legs.
A walk would work, too. “I could really go for some pancakes.” There had to be a breakfast place somewhere in Bloomfield now. He eyed Rob’s laptop. He wasn’t as familiar with the area as he used to be. A lot had changed since he was a teen.
Rob must have put two and two together, because he chuckled. “I could make you pancakes, then we could go for a walk that didn’t involve satiating your stomach.” He patted the closed laptop. “No searching necessary.”
“Except I kind of wanted chocolate chip pancakes.”
Rob rolled his eyes. “Do you think me some kind of heathen that doesn’t have chocolate chips?”
“I—wait—heathens don’t have chocolate chips?”
There was the smile Brian so craved, full of teeth and dimples. Rob stood. “Come with me.” He grabbed his laptop and headed into the kitchen.
No choice but to follow. When Brian entered, the laptop was on the kitchen table and Rob was brandishing a bag of semisweet morsels. “I have these. Or if you want something more wicked, I have Dutch chocolate sprinkles.”
“Dutch chocolate…?”
Rob put the bag down on the counter, pulled out a box from the pantry, and handed it to Brian. A label in Dutch and a picture of toast with… chocolate jimmies on top. “What evil magic is this?”
Rob’s laughter filled the room. “From the people who gave us stroopwafels for tea, chocolate sprinkles for your breakfast toast.” He paused. “Or pancakes.”
“Neither the Dutch nor you have ever lead me astray.” He handed the box back. “These, please.”
Rob put the bag of chips away and pulled out eggs, flour, and a bunch of other ingredients. “This is pretty much a one-person job. Have a seat.”
“You’re making them from scratch?”
Rob waved away the question. “Let me play. Your job today is to relax.”
“But—you’re working for me. Not exactly relaxing for you.”
Rob peered over his shoulder. “I enjoy cooking, so it is. I don’t get to do anything for you very often.”
Mostly because there hadn’t been any time, lately. Brian looked down at the floor.
“Brian, be a good man, and let your boyfriend take care of you for a day.”
He snorted. Rob was right—he did need to relax. “All right. Pamper me then.”
A smile that warmed the room. “I plan to.”
True to that promise, he did. The pancakes were excellent—even better than the best place in town—and after they cleaned up the cooking mess and Rob grabbed a shower, they headed out for a leisurely stroll around Bloomfield. So much had changed due to the influx of people working for Google and the other tech companies popping up around the city, plus expansion of the nearby hospitals.
Not so much a working-class neighborhood anymore. Which was both good and bad. He was glad his folks owned their house—they wouldn’t be priced out of an apartment due to gentrification. But it was also nice to see new stores and shops and run-down houses being renovated, just as Rob had done.
Mixed emotions, there.
The more they walked, the more he unwound. While out, Rob stopped in a couple of shops and picked up a few things. “I thought I might cook dinner. It’s a lovely day for grilling.” Fresh vegetables for a salad.
Brian wasn’t about to argue with that, especially not when Rob said there were steaks in the fridge. “You planned this, didn’t you?”
That sly smile. “Perhaps.”
When they got back and everything was put away, they ended up on the living room couch.
Despite being in Mrs. Kaminski’s old living room, everything here spoke of Rob—including Rob twining his fingers in Brian’s hair and nibbling and licking his way down Brian’s neck.
He pulled Rob closer, cupping his ass. He lifted his chin to give Rob more skin to kiss. “We should do this more often.”
