Surly artist Jez can hardly believe his good fortune in ending up in domestic bliss with a warmhearted man like Steve, but one morning a letter arrives, stirring up old hurts. Jez finds it hard to believe Steve will still want him when he reveals his sorry history. Steve, however, is determined to prove that he loves Jez just the way he is — and he’ll even do it before he finishes knitting his first pair of socks…
I had the PlayStation on when Steve let himself in, and was shooting the crap out of some zombies in Resident Evil 5. Steve slumped on the sofa beside me and plonked two bottles of beer on the table next to my feet. I didn’t look up, but I had a good excuse, what with being in mortal peril.
“Watch out for the one behind the door,” Steve warned, just as I fell victim to a brain munching monster. He chuckled at my dire score and I felt his hand in my dreads, massaging my scalp. “You want to talk about anything?”
Steve sighed as I downed my beer. “Well, what do you want to do then?”
I looked him over, sitting there with one brightly stockinged foot up on his knee, his shirt crumpled after a day at work, his tie hanging loose around his neck. His dark curls were starting to escape the Brylcreem and his jaw bore the shadow of the scratchy hair I knew would burn my skin deliciously. He looked one hundred percent debauched and thoroughly fuckable.
Yeah, I could cope with that kind of distraction, but for once I didn’t want Steve calling the shots.
I’m no good at asking for what I want, so I tackled him down until he was lying on the sofa beneath me, using my body weight to pin him down. Steve gave me one of his maddening grins and I did my best to kiss it off him, trying to reduce him to the same wordless state of lust he always managed to transport me to.
“Mmm, someone’s feeling horny. I’ll have to remember that fighting zombies gets you like this.”