...Matt met Vic at the door with a kiss. “Hey, lover boy,” he purred, unbuttoning Vic’s work shirt. With a playful nip at Vic’s trimmed goatee, he leaned into his lover as if they hadn’t just seen each other earlier that morning. “How was work?”

“Work sucked,” Vic admitted. He held onto Matt’s waist with both hands to steady himself as he stepped out of his boots. “But my day just got a hundred percent better. Tell me you made chicken parmesan.”

“With rice.” Matt eased his hands into the open front of Vic’s shirt and rubbed his lover’s chest, his fingers rasping over the thin tank top he wore as an undershirt. “And green beans. I hope you’re hungry.”

Vic laughed. “I’m fucking famished.”

Matt grinned. “Then come fucking eat.”

Against Matt’s neck, Vic murmured, “Now you’re turning me on.”

Matt ate one piece of chicken; Vic had two, and toyed with the idea of eating the last one until Matt pointed out he could have it for lunch the next day. So he settled for half of the last piece, and finished off the rice and beans as well. Matt sat across the table from him and watched as Vic ate. The way the muscles worked in his jaw, the faint lines in his furrowed brow, the tongue that darted out to lick his red lips…glancing up from his plate, Vic saw Matt staring at him and muttered, “What?”

“I love you.”

Such a simple phrase, it came unbidden and resonated throughout his entire being. It passed easily through the psychic connection Vic shared with him, ricocheted back, and enveloped the both of them in a warmth that surpassed the heat rising from their plates or streaming in through the glass doors on their balcony.

Vic’s response came telepathically as he shoveled another forkful of rice into his mouth. ::Love you, too, Matty. God, you’re too good for me.::

Matt laughed that away. “Oh, please.” Beneath the table, his bare toes found Vic’s socked foot and he rubbed along his lover’s arch as he propped one elbow on the table to set his chin in his hand. Gazing across at Vic, he let a faint smile toy across his face. “Do you know your lips turn pink when you eat?”

Vic almost choked. “What?”

“They do,” Matt assured him. “I read somewhere that people’s lips turn a darker shade of red when they’re aroused. Yours do it when you eat.” At Vic’s frown, he added, “I think it’s sexy.”

Vic’s chewing slowed as he looked across the table at Matt. With a shrug, Matt asked, “What can I say? I like to see a man eat. You like my feet, don’t you? Isn’t that just as strange?”

“So, like,” Vic offered, thinking it through, “let’s say we were both naked and eating?”

“God,” Matt sighed. The image alone triggered a rush of blood to thicken his dick.

With a smile, Vic warmed to the idea. “Or maybe you could lie down and I’ll cover you with…oh, I don’t know. Whipped cream, strawberries, maybe some chocolate syrup. And I’ll lick it all off your flesh—”