Chapter 19
Will
Will double checks the booking confirmation for the sixth time before he tucks his phone back into his pocket.
The metal and glass roof stretches out above him, crisscrossing over the perfect blue sky.
It’s a cold day, crisp and invigorating, and Will can think of no better way to spend it than with Nathan.
He’s late, but luckily Will planned an hour of browsing the market stalls before they’re expected at the bakery.
A twist of excitement ripples in his belly. Baking cupcakes together is basically the perfect date for them. Will likes to cook, and Nate loves cake. He can’t wait to see his face when he realises what they’re doing.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Nathan skids to a halt beside him, barely out of breath.
Will laughs. “It’s fine. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, my client kept me late scheduling their next session, and then I waited ages for the hot water at home but the shower never heated up, and I was already late so I just had a cold shower, and then I ran here and now I’m sweaty so I could have just skipped the shower and been on time.”
“It’s really fine. We’re doing something at four, plenty of time.”
“Okay.” Nathan takes a deep breath. “How are you, anyway?”
“I’m alright. Looking forward to the thing at four.”
He smiles up at Will, brown eyes dancing with curiosity. “What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I hope you love it. I really, really hope you love it.
“Must be food related.” Nathan looks around, taking in the stalls and carts, street food from every corner of the earth spread out around them. “And you said doing, not eating. Are we cooking? Did you take pity on your poor, rice boiling boyfriend and book a class?”
Boyfriend. I love how that sounds.
“Surprise, I told you. Are you hungry? We could get some snacks first?”
“Always.” Nathan grins at him, stepping back slightly to give him space to lead the way.
They wander through the market, stopping to look at the delicacies on offer. Nathan stays close but not too close, taking care not to bump or brush against him, the perfect gentleman.
His consideration loosens Will’s shoulders, releasing a little of the tension that comes with being in public. He’s still nervous, afraid of accidental contact that could lead to unintended influence, even though the crowds are bundled up in layers of warm clothes just like they are.
They stop at a hut selling dosas, thin Indian pancakes stuffed full of vegetable curry.
The air is heavy with the scent of spices as the chef pours batter onto a flat griddle, letting it cook for thirty seconds before he ladles the filling on top, folding the pancake like an envelope and flipping it in one smooth motion.
Will’s mouth waters. When he looks over at Nathan, he’s gazing at the filled pancake with hungry eyes.
They buy one to share, hunching over their prize with wooden forks. Each bite is alive with flavour, the pancake enhanced with drizzles of red and green chutney, bright with herbs and chilli.
“Fuck, this is so good.” Nate snaffles the last piece for himself, popping it in his mouth and voicing his approval in soft little moans.
Will suppresses a shiver, wishing he could hear Nathan moan like that in another context.
He eats the last piece of dosa mechanically, the flavours slightly muted in his mouth as he considers.
If he wants to hear Nathan at the height of pleasure, see him come undone, he’ll have to make his peace with touching him.
His brain helpfully supplies a few ways it could happen without touching him, supplying an image of Nathan laid out naked on his bed, his hand pumping his cock as Will watches.
Could I even stop myself from touching him? I want him so much.
He swallows, turning to throw the empty paper tray into a nearby bin, filing the image away for later. “Wanna get a drink? I think there’s a juice place here?”
They order two types of fresh juice, brimming with healthy additions that Nathan chooses without looking at the extensive menu.
Nathan glances at his watch. “Should we get going? It’s twenty to four.”
“Don’t worry, it’s nearby. Plenty of time.”
Will leads them towards the bakery, meandering between the stalls and stopping whenever something catches Nathan’s eye, which happens predictably frequently.
They sample French cheese and Greek olives, complimenting the vendors but buying nothing. They gawk at a sprawling display of seafood, comparing likes and dislikes and expressing sadness for the lobsters trapped in their tanks.
Nate stops at a tiny cart laden with handmade chocolates. Despite Will’s protests he buys a box of six heart-shaped truffles, each infused with a different flavour, decorated so prettily Will isn’t sure how he’ll bring himself to eat them.
They walk through the wooden doors of the bakery five minutes before the class begins.
Nathan looks around at the cakes on display and visibly melts, green eyes sparkling with joy. “We’re making cake?”
Were it not for their predicament, Will would be cupping his face right now, basking in the contours of his cheeks, lifted by a smile. “We’re making cake, yeah. Cupcakes, to be precise.”
“Ohmygod. I could kiss you right now. I thought maybe you booked a basic class so you could finally make me cook rice properly.”
Will laughs, pressing a kiss against his fingertips and blowing it in Nate’s direction. He catches it in the palm of his hand, bringing it to his own lips and blowing a kiss back.
Twenty minutes and one demonstration later, they’re wearing matching cupcake print aprons, side by side with an array of ingredients laid out in front of them.
“You probably already know what you’re doing, don’t you?” Nathan flicks the scale on and plonks the mixing bowl on top.
Will reaches over, careful not to brush his bare arm as he resets the scale. “Yeah, mostly. But it’ll be fun, baking with you.”
Nathan drops a few chunks of butter into the bowl. “I mean, you could do the baking and I could do the eating?”
“Reset the scale again before you pour the sugar in. The cake’ll taste better if you’ve made it yourself, trust me.”
They make their way slowly through the recipe.
Nathan follows the instructions precisely, referring back to the printed pages to double check quantities before and after he measures them out.
The instructor swings by, her pink ponytail bouncing jauntily as she compliments them on their attention to detail.
Nathan grins at her, jiggling slightly with the happiness of approval.
Will cracks the eggs on the edge of the mixing bowl, watching the sunny yolks settle on top of the mixture. He hands the bowl over to Nate, who’s waiting with his whisk ready.
He still pokes his tongue out when he concentrates. How can he be this cute?
Nathan places the bowl carefully on the counter and floats the whisk into place. It moves in slow, deliberate circles, pausing every now and then to let him peer inside.
“You can go a bit faster if you like.”
Nathan looks up. “You sure? I don’t want to overwork it.”
“I’m sure. I go faster than that, and I actually do it by hand.”
The whisk speeds up, just a little, stopping just as frequently. Eventually Nathan floats the bowl over towards him, whisk hovering out of the way. “I think it’s done?”
“Yeah, looks like it. You want to measure it out?”
Nathan grabs the muffin tin, muttering something about doing all the work. Will takes it gently back, dropping in the polka dot paper liners with a teasing eye roll.
As soon as the batter has been painstakingly distributed, Will bends to slide the tray into the oven. When he straightens and turns back to his boyfriend, he’s hastily hiding his hand behind his back.
Will’s eyes narrow. “Were you just eating the leftover batter?”
“Of course not.” Nathan tries his best to look angelically innocent and fails miserably.
Will reaches across and grabs the mixing bowl, swiping a finger through the remnant smears and licking it clean as suggestively as he can. Nathan’s eyes flash, taking it back and mirroring the movement, pulling his finger from his mouth with a suggestive pop.
The instructor passes by, shattering the moment. “You might want to get on with the icing, they won’t take long to bake.”
Will measures the butter this time, creaming it by hand with a fresh whisk as Nathan reaches for the bag of icing sugar. He tears into it a little too eagerly, sending a sugary cloud into the air, his eyes widening with surprise before he sticks his tongue out for a taste.
Adorable.
The icing comes together quickly. Nathan chooses to flavour it with rosewater, the tiny bottle scenting the air the moment it’s uncapped. “Like those madeleines. At the patisserie. Remember?”
Will smiles back at him, certain his face is as full of fondness as Nathan’s is. It feels so good to be making new memories together, anchoring big moments in mundane little details.
Nathan’s phone chooses that moment to ring, the shrill tone cutting through the quiet. He dismisses the call, barely managing to shoot Will an apologetic glance before it starts ringing again.
“Sorry, I…” He wanders a short distance away, answering the call.
From the dejected hunch of his shoulders, Will knows who’s on the other end of the line.
Their timer goes off, blaring for just a few seconds before Will slaps it into silence.
Nathan’s still preoccupied, so he takes the cakes out of the oven himself, certain that Nathan would begrudge bad cake more than the loss of the experience.
They burn his fingers, sharp stabs of short-lived heat as he moves the cupcakes from the tray to a wire rack.
Nathan’s still on the phone, muttering in a low voice, words clipped with irritation. He turns around, noticing the progress he’s missed, uttering an abrupt goodbye before he hangs up.
“Everything alright?” Will asks, wishing he felt comfortable enough to touch him, to offer comfort.
“Yeah.” Nathan leans casually against the counter, looking down at the cakes they baked together. “My dad. Just for a change.”
“What did he want?”