Chapter 5
FIVE
It felt like the most natural thing in the world for Javier to fall asleep on the sofa while watching the telly with Desmond.
Everything had felt so perfect that Javier’s eyelids began to droop, his breathing slow, and the ball of spikey tension that never seemed to leave him loosened up and vanished entirely.
Not once through the evening did he worry about his failing business or whether Gordon leaving the agency meant other models would follow.
If he was concerned about anything, it was Desmond’s stomach and whether Matthew’s nasty trick would have lasting consequences.
There were a few additional and minor trips to the loo, but even that worry faded as the first film moved into the second and Javier shifted to lie on the sofa, not even questioning the appropriateness of the adjustment.
Best of all, Desmond moved to lie with him.
It wasn’t overtly sexual or meant to lead anywhere, it just felt completely natural after an evening filled with too much excitement.
Javier was only slightly surprised to wake up early the next morning to find he’d slept almost the entire night on the sofa with Desmond snuggled up against him chest to chest. Desmond must have been responsible for the blanket that covered both of them now, which meant falling asleep like that, with his arm and leg draped over Javier, hadn’t been an accident.
It definitely didn’t feel like an accident.
It didn’t feel half bad either. It felt incredibly good.
Javier smiled as sleep left him, and although he had to pee so badly there was a chance he would embarrass himself when he tried to stand, the last thing he wanted to do was move and spoil the moment.
He liked Desmond. It didn’t matter that they’d met under the most humiliating circumstances possible only a few days ago, or that the embarrassment just kept coming at them.
It didn’t matter that Desmond’s life was wildly different from his own.
They came from completely different worlds and circumstances, and yet, if the night before had shown him anything, it was that their lives converged in interesting ways.
It was almost like they really were boyfriends, like they’d been together for months, not like they’d been pretending the night before.
As far as Javier was concerned, a little pretend never hurt anyone.
To prove that point, he stroked his hand up and down Desmond’s back and leaned closer to his head to breathe in the scent of his hair.
His happy, cozy feelings took a hit when Desmond sucked in a breath and tensed as he woke up. That in itself wouldn’t have been bad, but he somehow managed to bring his elbow down hard near Javier’s over-full bladder.
“Oh, God, baby. I love cuddling with you like this, but if I don’t get up and pee right now, there’s gonna be a lot to clean up,” he said, clenching a few important muscles and sitting as carefully as he could.
“Hmm?” Desmond blinked himself out of sleep, seemingly confused by their proximity. It hit him a second later, and his bleary eyes went wide. “You’re still here,” he slurred as he rubbed his face.
“Yeah, honey, I am, and I promise I’m not leaving, but I seriously need the loo.”
Desmond hummed and grunted and shifted to the side, and Javier jumped up and raced around the sofa to the downstairs bathroom.
Once he took care of the necessities, which also involved rinsing his mouth out, with just water, unfortunately, because he hadn’t brushed his teeth before bed the night before, he took a moment to breathe and take in the situation.
He’d stayed the night at Desmond White’s incredibly posh Kensington townhouse.
He hadn’t felt any of the urgency to get home that he usually felt when he’d gone out for the night, even if he’d accepted his date’s offer to go up to his flat for a little horizontal fun.
He and Desmond hadn’t so much as kissed, but Javier felt as comfortable as if he and Desmond had been living together for years.
It wasn’t right. He couldn’t just stick around like a bad smell when Desmond probably had a whole list of weekend activities to tackle. Desmond was probably still feeling queasy from the Great Shrimp Deception. But Javier still didn’t want to leave.
What he wanted was irrelevant, though. He gave himself one last, stern look in the mirror, then left the bathroom to find Desmond, thank him for the lovely time, grab his jacket and shoes, wherever they were, and head home.
“I’ve got plenty of bacon and enough eggs in the pantry,” Desmond called from the kitchen as soon as Javier stepped into the hall. “I can’t promise a full English, but I can provide beans on toast to go with the bacon and eggs, if you’d like.”
Javier’s gut did something squiggly that wasn’t hunger. He glanced down the hall to the lounge, noting that Desmond had straightened the sofa and folded the blanket over its back, then headed on to the kitchen.
“I’ve put the kettle on,” Desmond continued as he rushed around, setting out everything like he was about to cook a feast. “As you saw last night, I’ve got several kinds of tea, but for breakfast, ordinary tea is a must.”
Javier stood in the doorway, drinking in the scene he’d stepped into.
Desmond was smiling and busy, but he had just a hint of desperation to his actions, like he wanted to beg Javier not to go.
It was early enough that the sun hadn’t even thought of coming up yet, so the windows were all dark.
That made Javier feel like he and Desmond were in a cozy, domestic bubble.
Far be it from him to burst that bubble when it felt so good.
“Do you want some?” he asked as he headed over to the counter and pressed the button to get the kettle heating again. “Milk and sugar?”
Desmond seemed to relax by a hair as he said, “Yes milk, one sugar.”
And that was that. They slid into morning roles as easily as the butter spread across the toast Javier made as Desmond put the bacon under the grill and fried several eggs. Expertly, Javier noted.
“You’re an amazing cook,” he complimented Desmond once they were seated at the small table in a nook beside the windows, eating the fruits of their labor.
“Yes, I always found cooking to be soothing,” Desmond said, relaxing more by the second. “I once had a therapist tell me to lean into that and to cook more to counteract my high-stress job.”
“And do you?” Javier asked, hoping he could keep the banter going as long as possible.
“I do,” Desmond said, mopping up egg yolk with the last of his toast. He smiled suddenly and glanced up at Javier. “I’ll cook a special Valentine’s Day supper for you tonight to show off.”
A thousand more squidgey feelings shot through Javier’s gut. A few of them were guilt.
“I should probably go at some point,” he said, not liking the way those words tasted. “You’re probably more than ready to get rid of me.”
Desmond’s face pinked a little as he stared at Javier for a moment then said, “I couldn’t possibly kick my boyfriend out on Valentine’s Day.”
A slow smile spread across Javier’s face. So they were still pretending, were they? Strangely, he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind one bit. Part of him wanted to see how far they could take their little make-believe session.
“Do you need help tidying up, sweetie?” he asked the way he would ask someone he’d actually been dating for months as he set his fork down on his plate.
“I will never say no to help tidying up,” Desmond answered him with a broad smile.
And that was how it started. The two of them got up and worked together to clean up all the breakfast dishes, load the dishwasher, and wipe the counters and table.
As they did, Desmond talked about a few of his favorite things to cook and made suggestions for supper that night.
They checked the fridge, which was surprisingly well-stocked, and came up with a menu together.
After that, they headed upstairs, where the two of them went through Desmond’s wardrobe and bureau, searching for more casual clothes that Javier could change into.
Javier’s legs were miles longer than Desmond’s, but their torsos were roughly the same size.
Desmond’s t-shirts fit him, and even though Javier looked more than a little like he was wearing the sort of short pants boys wore in the 19th century, they found a pair of sweatpants that fit well-enough.
Javier showered using Desmond’s grooming products and brushed his teeth with a spare toothbrush, then Desmond took his turn while Javier set to work seriously rearranging the wardrobe, like he’d wanted to do the night before. Once Desmond was clean and dressed, he helped with the whole process.
It was all completely, boringly normal, and yet it filled Javier with a contentment he hadn’t felt in so long it was like he was experiencing the emotion for the first time.
“Do you want to do the linen closets now that your wardrobe is arranged correctly?” Javier asked, half teasing, half deadly serious, once they were done. Anything to keep their boyfriend fantasy going.
“Actually,” Desmond said, brightening in a way Javier couldn’t quite put his finger on, “I’ve got something else to show you.”
Part of Javier wanted to answer, “I hope it’s those cute little buns of yours,” but weirdly enough, the timing wasn’t right.
Instead, he followed Desmond downstairs and back to the kitchen. Now that the sun was up, Javier was surprised to see that the window they’d been sitting next to during breakfast didn’t lead straight out into a back garden, it led into an amazing greenhouse sunroom.
“This is amazing,” Javier said as they walked out into the heart of the magical space.