"It sort of is, isn't it? Huh."
"Yep. I might not be on the job right now, but that kind of thing is ingrained." He sat, grabbed one of the open boxes at random and grabbed another fork; he'd never gotten the hang of chopsticks, which Mindy had always given him shit about. Of course she was his sister -- she gave him shit about everything.
Slayde ate slowly, carefully.
"We got stuff for those blisters?"
"I put vinegar on them, but they're busting."
"Sounds nasty. You need me to go find something at the drug store?"
"I don't know what to put on them, to be honest."
"They've got that allergy cream." He gave Slayde a wry look. "I chased a perp through some stinging plant a few years back."
"Oh, man. Ow."
"Yeah, it wasn't pleasant. But I could get you what I used."
"After we eat, maybe. I won't make you miss out on… What is that?"
"Uh…" He looked at it. "Something orange."
Slayde snorted, obviously trying to fight the laughter.
"Fuck off, man. You're the one who ordered, I'm just eating it."
"Listen to you! I'm going to tell Christian you cursed."
"Shit no, my abs still hurt from the other day." He patted his belly. He was getting out of shape.
"I bet. You had a lot to do."
"It's gonna take me time to remember not to cuss."
"Yeah. It's a challenge." Slayde nibbled at the crispy chicken from his dish.
"That looks good." He reached over and forked a piece of meat from Slayde's box.
"It is. Crispy. Spicy."
"It's good." He stole another piece.
"It's mine." Slayde winked, but didn't pull the container away.
"You won't share?" He snagged two more pieces. "I'll share mine."
"Is yours good?" Slayde stole a bite.
"You tell me." He fed Slayde the next one.
Slayde's eyes went wide, cheeks going pink. "It's tart." Oh fuck, look at that.
"It is." His voice had gone all husky.
"I. You're not drunk, are you?"
"What?" He sat back and cleared his throat. Jesus, Slayde made him forget his own fucking name.
"I just don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you."
He blinked at Slayde. Taking advantage of him? "I'm not drunk."
"Okay. Can I have another bite?"
He hadn't even had anything to drink. At all. He forked a piece of his orange chicken, or whatever it was, and held the fork up to Slayde's full, red lips. Were guys allowed to have lips that soft looking?
Slayde opened up, tugged the bite off the fork. Fuck.
Drake found himself leaning slowly closer. Slayde's eyes met his, straight-forward, sure, not letting him hide from this. Jesus fuck. They hadn't even talked about last time yet. But it had happened, so Slayde already knew he was gay. So he just kept moving in, letting those lips draw his own like the proverbial bees to honey.
They were sweet from the food, citrusy, and just a little spicy. Need slammed through him and it took everything he had not to push Slayde back into the couch and hump like he was starving for it.
"Fuck, you taste good." One of those hurt hands landed on his thigh.
The words made him groan. He was used to wham bam, no kissing, no talking, just getting off encounters. Slayde didn't seem in a hurry at all. Drake licked at Slayde's lips and they opened for his tongue to slip inside.
Oh, fuck. He explored, tongue sliding on Slayde's teeth, tickling the roof of the man's mouth. He moaned this time, the experience unfuckingbelievable. He hadn't ever kissed a man like this, not long and lazy, like he wasn't in a hurry.
His hand came up, cupping Slayde's cheek, fingertips brushing underneath Slayde's eye, and Slayde leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Goddamn.
Jesus fuck, some part of him was sure he'd come, just from this. One kiss became another and another, the touches making him fucking breathless. He slid his free hand over Slayde's thigh, letting it rest there, mirroring Slayde's hand on his leg.
"God." Slayde moaned for him, eyes meeting his, lips moving against his. "So warm."
"Never…" He let the words fade away. He didn't want Slayde to think he was a monk or anything.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"I don't kiss," he muttered, leaning back in for another kiss.
Slayde, bless him, didn't argue, just opened up and let him in. His hand slipped to the back of Slayde's neck, tilting it so he could get more. Slayde fucking tasted so good and it went straight to Drake's damn cock. Fuck. Fuck, this was… He could kiss this man for days.
You don't kiss, mocked a little voice in his head. He told it to shut the fuck up and slid his tongue alongside Slayde's, another moan that came from him filling the air.
His hand started moving, sliding up and down Slayde's thigh, thumb pushing in as he massaged. He could feel the heat of Slayde's leg through his sweats. God. Fuck. Slayde smelled like baby-powder, but under that. Hell, under that was pure, spicy male.
Those lean thighs opened, spread for him, for his fingers. Fuck. Yes. He leaned into Slayde, his fingers moving toward the cock pushing at the soft material.
"Want you."
He knew that. He could feel it. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
Drake touched Slayde through his sweats. He wanted to fish Slayde out, make him come, but he was distracted by the way their lips were clinging. Besides, he didn't want it to be over, didn't want to be dealing with the aftermath. This. This was good, so good, and he wanted to revel in it.
He let go of Slayde's prick and moved his hand up to rub the trim belly. God, Slayde's muscles jumped and jerked and rippled for him. He pushed the T-shirt away, touching the skin directly. Slayde moaned, and almost landed in his lap. He leaned back, encouraging it to happen.
"This is okay?" Slayde's cock was against his belly,
