Chapter 4 – James #2
“Hi, darlin’,” he murmured, placing a kiss on his head before effortlessly flipping the frying pan so the eggs he was cooking folded over themselves. “You smell good.”
James brought his clean shirt up to his nose. He didn’t really smell much of anything except maybe his laundry detergent.
Leon laughed and placed another kiss on the side of his head. “You smell like me…and you.”
James hadn’t really been looking for it, but he just so happened to notice a bruise he’d left on Leon’s pec from all his sucking and biting. He gently pressed his thumb against it as he gazed up at Leon. “You like me smelling like you?”
Leon huffed but pushed his chest harder against James’ fingers. “And you like marking me. Guess we’re even.”
James tried to think of a snarky retort, but the eggs popped, and some grease splattered on them. Leon let out a soft hiss as James ducked to safety behind Leon’s back.
“God, you really are a masochist, aren’t you?” James said. “Who cooks eggs shirtless?”
Leon’s lip quirked up, but his eyes turned thoughtful as he retrieved two plates from the cupboard. “I never would have classified myself as a masochist before meeting you. The more I think about it, I guess I have always liked being scratched and bitten.”
“Not to mention the fact that you’re covered in piercings and tattoos,” James said.
Leon’s grin widened. “You really seem to like my piercings.”
He brushed the heel of his hand over one of his nipples. James bit his lip and looked away.
Did Leon want to have the sex talk now?
The sound of the gas burner cut off, and he found himself enveloped in Leon’s arms. “That’s not a bad thing, my little mensch. I’m just saying, you’re full of surprises. I can’t wait to learn more tonight.”
James relaxed into the hug and helped Leon gather the rest of their breakfast, which included toast, orange juice, and coffee.
They ate at the kitchen counter, quickly joined by Yarmen, who attempted to pace across their laps. Leon allowed this for a few minutes before grabbing him and holding him like a football. He squirmed a bit until eventually settling down.
“These are really good,” James said, as he shoved his fifth heaping forkful into his mouth.
“Cajun seasoning,” Leon said, crunching into his toast, which he’d piled his eggs on top of. Several pieces of egg fell onto the plate, and one piece fell onto the corner of the island and was immediately sucked up by Yarmen.
“Is that okay for him to eat?” James asked.
Leon shrugged one shoulder. “He’s done it for years and always been okay.”
After they finished breakfast, James helped load the dishwasher, carefully studying the way Leon arranged the dishes.
As Leon topped off his coffee, James was left with nothing to do, so he just stood awkwardly next to the fridge.
While he admittedly felt a lot closer to Leon after just one sleepover, there was still a long way to go before he could feel at home in Leon’s apartment.
If that was even the goal.
As he watched Leon move easily around his kitchen, picking up James’ mostly empty mug and refilling it for him, he thought that maybe one day it would be.
“Do you want to wait until after you talk to your mom to make a plan for tonight?” Leon asked.
“Uhm…no, we could make a plan now. Like you said, I still definitely want to see you tonight, even if it's not a sleepover—which I’m sure will be fine. Mom texted this morning that she had a good night, and as we know, it's my own worry that’s the problem, not her, so I should probably just make the decision right now, but I appreciate you giving me the chance to talk with—”
Leon interrupted him by placing his coffee back in his hands and pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. “It’s not a problem, darlin’. If you want to make a plan now, let’s do it.”
James nodded, quickly filling his mouth with warm coffee so he wasn’t tempted to continue his ranting.
“Do you want to go out and do something and then come home and talk? Talk first, and then go out? Talk while we’re out?” Leon asked, his voice easy and even keeled, like he didn’t have any preference at all.
That was pretty much how it always went. Leon would come up with the options and offer them to James for a final decision. Right now, James didn’t feel like deciding. He collected his entire bottom lip in his mouth, and Leon gazed softly at him before shaking his head.
“Okay, how about this?” Leon said. “Would you prefer to talk about this in private in my house, or would it feel easier on neutral ground somewhere else?”
“In your house,” James responded immediately.
“Perfect. Did you want to go out and get a drink or dinner first?”
James tipped his head back and forth. “Dinner might be nice?”
Leon kissed him again before taking his hand and leading him over to the couch. “Dinner it is. Why don’t you meet me here at six, and we’ll go somewhere within walking distance?”
James allowed himself to be pulled down and into Leon’s arms. “I’m assuming you want to watch another episode before I head out?”
Leon grinned at him, absolutely shameless that this was clearly his new favorite show.
James still had the final song stuck in his head as he pulled up to his mother’s house, carrying two bags laden with sandwiches and pickles.
When he entered the house, he found his mom lying on the floor, tinkering with the underside of one of the footrests on their reclining sofa.
“Mom!” James groaned as he rushed over to the table and put down their food. “Didn’t Howard say he was going to come over this weekend and fix that so you wouldn’t have to?”
“He did,” his mom said, her voice muffled from around the screwdriver she was holding between her teeth. She pulled it out and looked up at James as he approached the sofa. “But he’s even older than I am and has no business being down on the floor—unless it’s for more fun activities.”
James groaned again. “Completely ignoring that last part, he might be older, but he said he does maintenance around his house all the time.”
His mom glared up at the bar running under the footrest and gave it a strong shove. It made a horrible screeching noise, and she sighed. “Well, you’re probably going to have your wish. Doesn’t seem like I’m going to be able to fix it.”
She slowly scooched out from under the footrest, and James scrambled around to her other side so he could offer her a hand up.
“You could have at least waited until I got home,” he said. “How were you planning on getting up off the floor?”
“Oh, Linda showed me,” she said, waving away James’ hand.
She slowly rolled onto her side and got herself up onto her hands and knees.
She then placed both hands on the sofa, brought her right foot under her, and firmly planted it on the ground.
In a move she definitely wouldn’t have been able to do this time last year, she pressed down on the sofa and pulled herself into a seated position.
James was duly impressed until she threw her hands up in the air in a “ta da” motion.
He frowned at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright, yes, very nice. I’m grateful Linda taught you that.”
“Don’t pout, hon. I’m exhausted now, so clearly I should have taken your hand. I just wanted you to see that I’m not helpless.”
That rubber band ball was back in James’ stomach. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before, but it also seemed to be present around his mom–a tangled up mix of decades of love, care, and worry.
“I know you’re not helpless, Mom. You’ve never been helpless. Just because I want to help doesn’t mean I don’t think you can do it yourself.”
His mom held out a hand, and he helped her up off the couch. “I know, hon. Just like me needing you less around the house doesn’t mean I don’t want you around the house. It just means we both have more flexibility and freedom.”
James let out a slow breath, and the ball in his stomach settled, ever so slightly. They’d talked about this the previous night, but hearing it again helped.
“Speaking of which,” his mom said as she shuffled around the couch, narrowly avoiding the small Christmas tree set up on the end table.
“Tell me how your date night went with Leon. And also, I wanted to let you know I’d like to host Howard and Linda here for New Year's Eve–so long as that works for you and Leon.”
James squeezed past his mom to pull down plates, and she got out cups and silverware–even though he’d told her a thousand times there was no reason to get out silverware when they were eating sandwiches.
“We don’t have any set plans,” he said, deciding not to start that age-old argument. “I wanted to talk to you about how last night went before committing to spending the night again tonight. And, I guess, also on New Year's Eve?”
“Last night was fine, I’m fine, and so long as you and your beau are fine, I think that all sounds like a plan,” his mom said, smiling widely at him as he turned to glower at her.
“You didn’t have any issues in the middle of the night?”
“I did not. I got up to use the restroom, took my phone, almost dropped it in the toilet, but managed to save it, and then brought it back to bed with me, no problem.”
James wasn’t entirely sure that made him feel better, but his mom’s steady hand on his back helped. “Okay, that does sound like an easy night.”
“And how was your night?” his mom asked pointedly, taking her usual seat at the head of their rectangular kitchen table.
Not much had changed in their house since James’ childhood, except that all of his dad’s stuff had been removed.
Over time, his mom had filled the house with things that made her happy, whether it be seashells in the bathrooms, figurines lining the bookshelves, or pictures of James as an adult.
She’d put away all of his childhood photos, and even though James had insisted it was fine so long as he didn’t have to look at them, she’d packed away the old photo albums, too.