You're Flying

I grin as I allow my eyes to wander away from the pasta that I’m stirring to the clock. The pasta will be ready in five minutes and Angel will come home in around ten or fifteen minutes. Can you talk about perfect timing?

I took the big wooden spoon out of the pot and let the noodles sit as I ran to our bedroom. I walked over to the closet and pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple white v-neck t-shirt. I didn’t want to look weird if I ate dinner in my boxers. After all, Angel doesn’t know that I’m cooking for him and it’s not going to be dressy since he’ll be in the clothing he wore to school, but it’s the thought and effort that I put into making the meal that truly matters. While I was in rehab I passed some time by looking up recipes in cook books. Angel deserves to be shown how much I appreciate him and I’m not going to make him do all the cooking anymore.

I ran back into the kitchen as I heard the oven beep, signaling that the pasta was ready. I poured the pasta into the strainer before moving it to a bowl where I could pour the cream sauce and carrots and broccoli into the mix. My person version of pasta primavera looks delicious, if I do say so myself.

I grabbed two big spoons off of the table and placed them in the bowl, setting the bowl in between the two plates for Angel and I. I made sure to hide the desert I made, not wanting to show him it. It is simple blueberries and strawberries in a goblet, topped with home-made whipped cream and chocolate shavings, but if Angel saw it he’d immediately jump for it. I shook my head as I chuckled at the thought. He’s so silly.

I grinned as I heard a soft knock on the door, opening it to see a blushing Angel. “I feel stupid,” he stated as he walked into the apartment. “I was in such a rush this morning that I forgot my key.”

“If I had it my way you wouldn’t have even needed your key today,” I murmured slyly, wrapping my arms around his waist so that I could press my lips to his softly. He made a little sound of enjoyment in the back of his throat before adding more pressure to the kiss, pulling away after a few seconds, the blush still coating his cheeks. Have I said that he’s completely adorable yet? If not, he totally is.

“I missed you,” he murmured, wrapping his body around mine.

“I missed you,” I said quietly as I steered us towards the kitchen. “Which is why I made you dinner.”

He looked up at me before turning around, looking at the table with our dinner on it. “Aww, Dom! You didn’t have to do this for me!” He said happily, pressing a kiss to my jaw line before scurrying over to his seat.

“Well,” I stated as I went and grabbed the bottle of wine that I set out to ice earlier. “Today was meant for cuddling and all that cliché stuff, but since we weren’t able to I figured I’d make you dinner and then maybe we’ll have cuddling and all that cliché stuff later.” I stated around a smile. God, last night was beyond amazing. It was everything I dreamt it was and more. That definitely should have been our first time. It wasn’t sex, a simple fuck, it was the experience of making love.

He chuckled and shook his head, holding out his glass for me. “Are you sure about the entire wine thing?” He murmured.

“This is purely for you. I’m having water. I just wanted to make this special.”

“You cooking in general is special, Dom.” He stated, rolling his eyes as he scooped some pasta onto his plate.

“Get used to it. I mean, I plan on getting a job soon, but I want to cook for you more. You barely knew me and you were cooking meals for me within days of meeting me, so I’ve got lots of years to make up for.”

“There are other ways you could make it up,” he said flirtatiously, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That too,” I said as I winked, scooping some pasta onto my own plate.

He grabbed his fork and dug in, smiling after he took the first bite. “This is good.”

“Thanks,” I said around a mouthful of delicious pasta. “It’s a new recipe.”

“I remember the first time you ever cooked for me,” he mused.

“Our first date,” I said around a smile.

He giggled while he took another bite. “Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Yeah, well this is a step up!” I said excitedly.

“Ah, young grasshopper you still have much to learn to catch up to my level of expertise in the kitchen.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I joked. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. I said I’d cook more for you, not all the time. You’re still the best cook under this roof meaning you’re making most of the meals!”

“Oddly enough, I’m okay with that because in your attempts to annoy me you totally flattered me.” He pointed out.

I chuckled and rolled my eyes as we continued to eat our dinner in peace, sneaking peeks at our loved one in the process.

When we were done Angel got up and placed his plate in the sink, mine following shortly after.

“Go into the living room,” I ordered playfully. “I’ll meet you in there.”

He rolled his eyes but obliged to my request, walking into the living room and curling up under a blanket that was hanging over the back of the couch. I grabbed two spoons out of the silverware drawer as well as a few napkins. I held the stem of the goblet as I carried it into the living room. “It’s really simple and all, but I know you love strawberries,” I murmured as I sat down beside him, under the blanket since he lifted it up for me.

“It looks fucking delicious,” he said, staring at the biggest strawberry on top. I chuckled as I handed him a spoon, elbowing him to go for the biggest strawberry. Our elbows collided as our forks fought over this one strawberry, chuckles escaping our throat as we piled onto each other. Damn, we both really wanted that strawberry.

I grabbed it on my fork and brought it towards my mouth, but he smacked it away. It fell off my fork and flew onto my face, smearing whipped cream all over my cheek. I grumbled and closed my eyes while Angel starting giggling like mad. He leaned forward and licked the whipped cream off of my cheek, tingles running down my spine each time his tongue would swirl across my sensitive skin, before leaning back. I cracked an eye open and picked up the strawberry, grumbling as I shoved it into his mouth. He rolled his eyes and swallowed it.

He looked at me for a second before reaching forward and grabbing some whipped cream, smearing it across his lips and closing his eyes, puckering his lips like a fish. I rolled my eyes and chuckled before leaning forward, taking his bottom lip in between my teeth, nibbling and sucking on it playfully until any traces of whipped cream were gone for good.

Angel pecked my lips one more time before he settled himself in my lap, on top of my crossed legs. He cradled the goblet of fruit in his lap as we continued to eat from it, talking about anything and everything and just all around having a good, fun time, enjoying each other’s presence. Angel has that affect on me. I’m pretty sure we could be hobo’s living in a box and I’d still constantly be smiling, just because he was sitting right next to me.

We talked about the most random of things, few of which truly happened to be productive. However, we did decide what color we wanted to paint our room. We decided on a light purple because not only is it Angel’s favorite color, and I’d do anything for him, but it would match the white carpeting and the deep purple bedding perfectly, giving the room a calming, cozy, comfortable feel. It’s what we were going for, you know, something homey. This is, after all, our home.

We also discussed the idea of me getting a job. There was a book store that opened downtown recently that was hiring. I think I may go there. The only other jobs available are unpaid internships and fast food places, stuff that I have no desire to do. It’s hard to get a job for me considering I didn’t graduate college. That’s why I’m so glad Angel’s going. I’ll go back eventually, once we get enough money and are truly settled in. I actually find it amazingly mind boggling that I used to think it was cool not to go to school when I was an alcoholic, but now I’m really disappointed in myself and regret that decision more than anything else. Well, I regret hurting Angel more, but that’s not the point.

I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Angel’s lips as I got up to put the goblet and spoons into the sink. If I didn’t do it now Angel and I might get carried away and forget to do it. As I walked out of the room I heard Angel mewl, not liking me leaving him and taking my warmth with me. I chuckled and shouted that I’d be right back. I heard him grunt in respond.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Who could that be?” Angel asked from the living room.

The truth is that I didn’t know. The only person I’ve needed to answer the door for since I moved here was for Angel, and he’s staying here with me, curled up under a blanket waiting for me to go back to him. “I don’t know!” I yelled to him. “I’ll go get it though. Hold on a second!”

“Hurry!” He said dramatically, as if he was going to die if I didn’t come back to him within the next ten seconds.

I chuckled as I reached for the handle on the door, opening it and staring at the person waiting beyond it. It was the last person I expected it to be.

My fucking luck, huh?