his head furiously. “I would never—”
“ Relax.” Sprocket twisted his head so he could look up at Chaz without lifting away from the chair, a quick grin flashing across his face. “He’s just kidding.”
“ Oh…yeah. I knew that.” Still, Chaz cast a skeptical glance at a chuckling Mason, who had thrown himself into his chair and stared glumly at a thick textbook.
“ It’s midterms,” Mason said as though that explained anything.
“ Well, I’ll be quiet and quick.” Chaz wondered if he should offer to just leave.
“ Don’t worry about it. I’m starving. Shawna let me cut out early tonight so I rushed home to finish my work, but haven’t snacked in anticipation of dinner.” Sprocket backed off his chair and stretched, reaching for the ceiling. “So, whatcha making?”
Before Chaz could answer, Sprocket had the bags out of his hands and on the counter. Chaz watched silently as his…friend…unloaded the groceries, identifying each item as he took it out of the bag.
“ Hmm…a dozen tomatoes, the biggest fucking mushrooms I’ve ever seen, moldy cheese…” He flashed a quick teasing grin at Chaz. “Some kind of fish… I think he’s trying to poison us.”
“ You’ll see.” Chaz couldn’t help smiling back. “It’s all local and sustainable.”
“ I don’t know what that means, but if it’s anything like last week… I’m sure it will be delicious.”
“ So…pardon me for butting in but…I’m dying to know. If this ain’t amateur porn… Then who is your doctor?”
“ Leonard McCoy of the Starship Enterprise. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
“ Dammit, Sprocket! I’m a student, not a sci-fi geek!”
Chaz laughed out loud. “That’s one of my favorite Star Trek tropes. I’m a doctor not a…”
“ Chef?” Sprocket suggested.
“ Physics whiz.” Mason nudged his textbook with a pencil.
“ Elevator, I think is the phrase from the series or one of them anyway. But you two go ahead and study. No, really, I’ve got this.” He braved contact by touching Sprocket lightly on the arm. “Go do your thing and let me do mine.”
***
Lydia glanced out the window again. If Sprocket hadn’t miscounted, she’d studied the sidewalk in front of the store five times already. It kinda reminded him of when Xander used to do that same exact thing in hopes of catching a peek at Dermot. Good thing Sprocket never pulled that move himself with a different bewildering cook.
Because, yeah, Sprocket didn’t do silly things like that.
Why would he have to? He had a sexy as hell sous chef coming to his house once a week, shouldn’t that appease any needs he had concerning Chaz?
Problem was it didn’t. It just made this damn game they were playing more obvious and a whole helluva lot more infuriating.
It seemed every time Sprocket instigated something more personal than their arrangement, Chaz sidelined him, using their Wednesday nights as an excuse.
Unsuccessfully, he had attempted to take Chaz out Thursday, the night after they dined on Chaz’s orgasmic Arctic Char with a black bean sauce over it—and really, who knew you could actually make a sauce out of beans? “The key is to use dry saké in the sauce, not sweet…”
Sprocket couldn’t help but smile as he remembered how Chaz’s face lit up when they’d taken their first bites of the specially prepared dinner. Sprocket would do anything to keep that grin on Chaz’s face…even give up all hope of being intimate with the man again.
Sprocket sighed, no longer in the mood to turn his frown upside down as he cleared the top shelf of endcap A—the first display customers saw when they entered the store.
When Chaz cooked for him, he radiated good feels. When they had coffee together, catching up on the block gossip, or Sprocket ran over to Alimentaire to discuss decorations for the party, they enjoyed the conversations and time together—but those situations were always in a public setting with lots of
“ Relax.” Sprocket twisted his head so he could look up at Chaz without lifting away from the chair, a quick grin flashing across his face. “He’s just kidding.”
“ Oh…yeah. I knew that.” Still, Chaz cast a skeptical glance at a chuckling Mason, who had thrown himself into his chair and stared glumly at a thick textbook.
“ It’s midterms,” Mason said as though that explained anything.
“ Well, I’ll be quiet and quick.” Chaz wondered if he should offer to just leave.
“ Don’t worry about it. I’m starving. Shawna let me cut out early tonight so I rushed home to finish my work, but haven’t snacked in anticipation of dinner.” Sprocket backed off his chair and stretched, reaching for the ceiling. “So, whatcha making?”
Before Chaz could answer, Sprocket had the bags out of his hands and on the counter. Chaz watched silently as his…friend…unloaded the groceries, identifying each item as he took it out of the bag.
“ Hmm…a dozen tomatoes, the biggest fucking mushrooms I’ve ever seen, moldy cheese…” He flashed a quick teasing grin at Chaz. “Some kind of fish… I think he’s trying to poison us.”
“ You’ll see.” Chaz couldn’t help smiling back. “It’s all local and sustainable.”
“ I don’t know what that means, but if it’s anything like last week… I’m sure it will be delicious.”
“ So…pardon me for butting in but…I’m dying to know. If this ain’t amateur porn… Then who is your doctor?”
“ Leonard McCoy of the Starship Enterprise. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
“ Dammit, Sprocket! I’m a student, not a sci-fi geek!”
Chaz laughed out loud. “That’s one of my favorite Star Trek tropes. I’m a doctor not a…”
“ Chef?” Sprocket suggested.
“ Physics whiz.” Mason nudged his textbook with a pencil.
“ Elevator, I think is the phrase from the series or one of them anyway. But you two go ahead and study. No, really, I’ve got this.” He braved contact by touching Sprocket lightly on the arm. “Go do your thing and let me do mine.”
***
Lydia glanced out the window again. If Sprocket hadn’t miscounted, she’d studied the sidewalk in front of the store five times already. It kinda reminded him of when Xander used to do that same exact thing in hopes of catching a peek at Dermot. Good thing Sprocket never pulled that move himself with a different bewildering cook.
Because, yeah, Sprocket didn’t do silly things like that.
Why would he have to? He had a sexy as hell sous chef coming to his house once a week, shouldn’t that appease any needs he had concerning Chaz?
Problem was it didn’t. It just made this damn game they were playing more obvious and a whole helluva lot more infuriating.
It seemed every time Sprocket instigated something more personal than their arrangement, Chaz sidelined him, using their Wednesday nights as an excuse.
Unsuccessfully, he had attempted to take Chaz out Thursday, the night after they dined on Chaz’s orgasmic Arctic Char with a black bean sauce over it—and really, who knew you could actually make a sauce out of beans? “The key is to use dry saké in the sauce, not sweet…”
Sprocket couldn’t help but smile as he remembered how Chaz’s face lit up when they’d taken their first bites of the specially prepared dinner. Sprocket would do anything to keep that grin on Chaz’s face…even give up all hope of being intimate with the man again.
Sprocket sighed, no longer in the mood to turn his frown upside down as he cleared the top shelf of endcap A—the first display customers saw when they entered the store.
When Chaz cooked for him, he radiated good feels. When they had coffee together, catching up on the block gossip, or Sprocket ran over to Alimentaire to discuss decorations for the party, they enjoyed the conversations and time together—but those situations were always in a public setting with lots of
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