Page 46 of Sweet Thing

CHAPTER 22

the next day

Simeon awoke with his head burrowed in the crook of Bastian’s shoulder, the weight of the other man’s warm body nestling against his own, their long legs entwined.

Bastian’s eyes were open, observing how Sim’s black eyelashes fanned upon his cheeks as he roused. Simeon looked angelic when he was asleep; his dark hair was messed up, cheeks flushed and his lips swollen from kissing and ready for more. Bastian couldn’t resist waking early and holding him close in his slumber.

Sim rolled out of Bastian’s arms and stretched. His eyes were heavy-lidded and unfocused for a moment, and then he turned to shyly meet the man sharing his spare bed. He didn’t quite know how to behave. There was a warm body in the bed beside him. He hadn’t experienced many mornings of waking with a lover he actually still wanted to be there. He rarely liked any man enough even to let him stay the night. Sim’s morning wood begged for attention, and he longed to indulge it, but when he peeked shyly from beneath the arm he’d thrown across his eyes to block out the day, the man by his side was staring at him quizzically and smiling. His belly fluttered. Simeon rolled toward Bastian and reached out to caress his beard. He loved the feel of it under his fingertips, loved to rub his face over it.

Bastian placed his hand over Sim’s and moved it to his lips. He kissed Sim’s palm. Then he cupped him around the back of the neck and drew Sim closer, so their brows touched.

A look of tenderness and affection captured Sim, and he could not look away. Again, the intimacy left Simeon speechless. He searched Bastian’s eyes and found something wonderful. Bound by invisible threads woven by touches and kisses, Simeon felt safe.

“Guten Morgen, sweet thing!” Bastian said.

“Guten Morgen,” Simeon echoed, still stroking Bast’s soft beard. “I like this. Don’t you ever shave this, you hear,” he warned.

Bastian laughed and drew Simeon into a sloppy kiss. Sim pulled away. “Gaah, we need to brush our teeth,” he shrieked theatrically. Bastian took mock offense.

“Are you saying I have a dirty mouth?” He rolled Simeon over, tickled him and laughed as Simeon shrieked, tossing the duvet back. Sim jumped to his feet on the bed.

Bastian sat back on his heels. He was faced with Simeon’s erection tenting in his underwear. He looked up at Sim, eyes pleading like a puppy seeking permission. Simeon’s mouth twitched to a smirk. He was having the same salacious thoughts?

The doorbell chimed, stopped, and then rang again, over and over. Simeon was brought back down to earth.

“Shit, what time is it?”

Bastian reached to the nightstand and grabbed his phone. He turned it on, the time appearing seconds later as five minutes past eight.

“Marcus, Shit!” Simeon exhaled, jumping off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

“Who the fuck is Marcus?” Bastian’s voice was tinged with what—jealousy? He followed Sim into the bathroom and stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips as Simeon relived himself.

“My sponsor. We run from eight to nine and then do an hour in the gym. It’s part of my agreement with Papa.”

“Ah, so your father has spies too?”

“Noh. His people are my support system; I love those guys. They help keep me straight—we’ll as straight as can be expected”, he said with a smirk. Sim flushed the toilet and moved to the sink to wash his hands. Bastian stepped up to the toilet.

Simeon washed his face. He was soon nudged aside by a muscled hip. “Hey, I was here first,” Sim whined and nudged back. The bell was still ringing, and the sound was pissing him off.

“I’m not finished here!” Sim determined, and then hurried out of the bathroom.

The apartment was freezing cold, and Simeon saw that he’d left a sash window open all night. He scolded himself for forgetting to close it, and he was relieved that the pigeons, who congregated on the power lines outside, hadn’t invaded his home. Simeon stuck his head out the window to see a man in a red hoodie pacing on the street below.

“Hey Marcus,” he called.

“Jesus Sim! You okay little brother? You’re not answering your phone and the land line’s dead. I was starting to get worried”, Marcus confessed.

“I had a friend sleep over—lost track of time“, Sim admitted. He tossed his keys out of the window for Marcus to let himself in, and then rushed into his bedroom.

Sim dressed hurriedly, dragging on clean jockey shorts, track pants, a vest tee, and a hoodie. He returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Bastian was washing his face.

“Time’s ticking on!” Marcus hollered from the living room.

“Hey, sorry, I’m gonna have to kick you out without a shower”, Sim offered apologetically. He retrieved a brand new toothbrush from the cupboard under the bathroom sink for his guest. Bastian moved behind Simeon. The powerful, warm presence of the man at his back nearly made Simeon’s knees buckle.

“I don’t need a shower. I want to smell of you all day,” Bastian announced, wrapping his arms around Sim’s trim waist. Kisses were applied lightly to the nape of Simeon’s neck.