“You are."
“Cool.” It was. It was awesome. He cleared his throat. “And you. You're, well, my type."
“Good. Does that mean you'll come have lunch with me?"
Gary nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it does."
“That's great.” Gary was definitely already in love with Troy's smile. It just lit his whole face up and looked fantastic. It made him feel good, too, having it aimed at him. “I'll meet you up front in fifteen minutes?"
“Yeah that's ... oh. I didn't bring a change of clothes,” he admitted. He hadn't been expecting to be invited for lunch.
Troy laughed again and tossed him a white t-shirt with “Golden Gym” embossed on it. “There—you can be fresh on top, at least."
“Thanks. I'll hit the showers and get rid of the worst of the work out sweat.” He was inordinately pleased that Troy hadn't used the opportunity to back out of the lunch. Not that the guy would have—he had made the offer in the first place, after all.
Stop being so hard on yourself and have a good time. That was either Gran or Martha's voice in his head, and he had to admit it was good advice. But those ladies needed to get out of his brain now because he was going on a date with a real hot stud, and he thought it would be best if he handled it himself.
* * * *
Gary was waiting out in front of the Golden Gym in just over twenty minutes, trying to look relaxed, like he went out on dates with gorgeous men all the time. He had a feeling he just looked nervous.
He forgot about how he looked, though, as soon as he saw Troy coming out the door. Forget lunch, he could just stand here and drool for an hour or so, maybe more. But he didn't have to do that, because they were going to lunch, so he shook himself and returned Troy's smile.
Troy's hand landed against the small of his back as they walked, warm and good, it felt even better when they got in line at the Japanese Experience and Troy started rubbing little circles against his lower back. It might be noisy and busy there in the foot court, but Gary finally got to feel what it was like being the center of Troy's attention. He liked it. He wanted to try it with just the two of them, though. He wanted that a lot.
They got their meals and started looking for somewhere to sit. A couple of people called out to Troy, but Troy only waved at them before suggesting a able for two that had opened up in the back corner. Gary nodded and they made their way over to sit across from each other. If he was a braver man, Gary knew he'd be playing footsie with Troy under cover of the table. As it was, he settled for being happy he didn't have Martha's voice in his head telling him to go for it.
The food was typical food court fare, but the company elevated the meal to a whole new level. Those chocolate brown eyes were focused on him, Troy's smile making him feel like the luckiest guy in the mall. He probably was.
“How long have you been a trainer?” he asked, nibbling on the top of a bean sprout.
“Forever. Seriously—I hired on right out of high school. Hell, I used to train the jocks, help them hit goal weights and stuff.” Troy shrugged, and flashed him that amazing smile again. “Guess you could say I'm a hooked."
“There's worse things to be hooked on."
“You better believe it. Of course there are better things, too.” Troy smiled at him, eyes intent.
Gary found himself blushing, and he ducked his head. He really did suck at the flirting thing; he didn't get a whole lot of opportunities to actually do it. And flirting with that chef the other day so didn't count. “When do you need to go back?” he asked.
“Trying to get rid of me already?"
“What? No! Oh, no. It's not that at all...” the words faded as he realized Troy was chuckling. His cheeks heated up again, his grin somewhat sheepish. “You're a teaser."
Leaning forward, Troy nodded. “I am, but I always deliver in the end."
Oh, God, he was going to be permanently red-cheeked the way Troy kept teasing.
“I need to get back soon, actually. Say you'll go out with me on a proper date."
He didn't hesitate with his answer—he wanted Troy to know he meant it. “I'll go out with you on a proper date."
“Excellent. Tomorrow night? Dinner and a movie?"
“Sure, that sounds great.” He had a date. An honest to goodness dinner and a movie date. It sounded better than great—it sounded awesome.
“I have to work until six, but I could meet you at the gym at 6:30?"
“Yeah, that would work.” It would work just fine. Of course Troy could have suggested just about any time and any where and Gary would have made it work. “I'll see you tomorrow night, then."
“Yeah.” Troy leaned across the table and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. “Until tomorrow.” Then he got up, bussed his tray and headed back down the mall to the gym.
Gary watched him go until he rounded a corner and disappeared. Then he grinned into his plate. He had a date tomorrow night. Gran would be so proud. And then she and her cronies were probably going to want all the gory details...
* * * *
Gary might have spent the next day letting his nerves over his upcoming date with Troy get the better of him, but Gran and the ladies had other plans that didn't include him stressing about it.
They spent the better part of the morning buying cookie-baking supplies, arguing good-naturedly over whether a recipe calling for shortening meant actual shortening, or if butter, margarine or oil would do the job just as well. Gary was sure they'd bought way too much stuff. Either that or they'd be spending the next two weeks doing nothing but baking cookies and he knew the ladies well enough by now to know that they were far too busy to spend all that time baking. Come to think of it, baking cookies was hardly their style. It was far too ... traditional.
He had to tease them about it when they set to baking cookies after lunch, turning Gran's kitchen into a disaster area—flour and sugar and chocolate chips everywhere, including all over the ladies. “Since when do you guys go for the traditional grandmother thing?"
“Shut your mouth.” Martha popped his arm with her wooden spoon.
“Ow!” He rubbed his arm. “What was that for."
“Not all of us are grandmothers, and even your gran would rather not have that word bandied about like that, I imagine. Besides, everyone likes a home-baked cookie."
Gary bit his lower lip to keep from chortling. “Everyone does?"
“Yes. And if they don't, they have the manners not to say so. And what are you giggling at?"
“I just never expected to see you guys baking cookies. Although based on how much of the ingredients are all over you and the counters instead of in the bowls...” He ducked the next hit of the spoon, but managed to walk right into Gran's swat on his butt.
“Behave, Gary. These are my friends, and we're all your elders."
“Hey! If I called any one of you my ‘elder', I'd be in for an even worse beating."
She chuckled. “You do have a point, my dear.” She patted him on the cheek. “Now wash up the measuring cups and mixing bowls like a good boy and we'll start on the next batch.
By the time they were done, he needed a shower to get the icing sugar out of his hair.
* * * *
Troy looked even better in a dress shirt and slacks than he did in his gym clothes. He was kind and fun to be around. He had great taste in food and even better taste in movies. During their date, Gary found out he volunteered for the Boys and Girls Club, that he loved to read a weird mix of science fiction and the classics. He was funny, he was smart. He was perfect.
To be honest, it was weirding Gary out.
Good looking guys like Troy fell into three categories: jerks, taken, or so not interested in Gary. Troy clearly wasn't a jerk; he was in fact the anti-jerk. And apparently he wasn't taken. Gary had specifically asked and Troy hadn't sidestepped the question at all, he was footloose and fancy free. Which of course begged the question why such a good-looking, smart, funny stud wasn't taken. Troy had shrugged and said he just
hadn't met the right guy, that most of his first dates were also his last dates.
And Troy was interested in Gary. He'd said so. More than once. And hell, here they were coming out of the theatre holding hands after having watched a really great Indie film. And instead of ending the date, Troy was asking to prolong it.
“So how about it, Gary—somewhere for coffee, maybe my place?"
“Um ... yeah, okay, sure.” Gary nodded, too and gave himself a mental slap for answering yes in like four different ways, like he'd been scared Troy would take “yeah” to mean something else.
“Are you sure?” Troy's eyes danced and Gary rolled his own.
“I'm sure. Let's go."
He'd driven from the gym, so it was his car they took to Troy's place, the man giving him directions as they went, the conversation staying light and easy as Gary drove. He was very grateful for that; Troy was distracting enough just sitting there, and knowing what they were going to be doing...
He stopped himself before he could get too far into any kind of fantasies. Maybe Troy just meant for them to have some coffee and continue their discussions. God knew, the man was easy to talk to when Gary forgot that the guy was gorgeous and out with him.
It didn't take that long to get to Troy's place—he had the top floor of a duplex in an older neighborhood. There whole street was lit up like a giant Christmas tree, almost every house boasting lights and Santas or reindeer or snowmen on their lawns. Troy's place was also lit up.
“It's on a timer.” Troy unlocked the front door and headed up the stairs, Gary following. “That way it doesn't matter if I'm home or if I fall asleep before I turn them off for the night."
“Cool."
Troy grinned as he unlocked the door at the top of the stairs. “It probably seems like a crazy thing to worry about, but I tell you, the neighbors here are nazis when it comes to the Christmas lights. You don't get them up by mid-December and have them lit every night you get a ‘visit'.” Tony shuddered dramatically, making Gary laugh. “Oh, no, don't laugh. I'm not kidding here. These people are relentless in their quest for perfect street lighthood."
Gary couldn't help it, he continued to snicker as Troy held the door open for him.. “I think I might know what you mean. I have, after all, been hanging out with a bunch of lovely, but very opinionated, ladies."
“Somehow I can't see your blue-haired gang getting all worked up over Christmas lights."
“No, but they've got their hot buttons. Hell, we probably all do."
The door closed behind Troy and it was his turn to chuckle. “Hot buttons, huh? I'd like to find a few of yours."
Gary felt his cheeks heat, and he licked his lips as he looked up at Troy. “Yeah, I'd like you to find some of them, too."
“We're on the same page, then.” Troy moved into his space and walked him back up against the door.
“Uh-huh.” Gary slid his hands up along Troy's chest, squeezing the firm pecs before curling his hands around Troy's shoulders, just holding on.
Troy's smile came closer and closer, and then their lips pressed together. Gary'd never kissed anyone while smiling before and their teeth clacked together, their lips getting smashed. It was awkward and funny, and then suddenly they weren't smiling anymore and it turned sweet, just right as Troy's thick lips slid across his own, gentle and hot.
His eyes closed and he held on to Troy's shoulders, letting the kiss wash over him. Their lips clung together and then parted, and then came together again, each kiss lingering a little longer than the last. The place was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, and the little smacking noise their lips made each time a kiss ended.
Gary thought he could do this for the rest of the night—just this. It was warm and intimate and it made him feel good all the way to his toes, which curled just a little as Troy's tongue swept across his lips. He gasped, his prick taking full notice at the touch of tongue, beginning to fill and press against his zipper.
Stroking Troy's muscles, Gary leaned more heavily against the door, and Troy's body followed the silent invitation, resting along his, all those muscles and the hard bump that was pressing against Gary's lower belly felt like the really good start to something hot and heavy.
Troy's hand came up, fingers petting his cheek and the caress had Gary opening and closing his hands on Troy's shoulders. Troy's other hand wrapped around his hip, holding onto Gary. It felt good. It felt very much like Troy wanted him here, very much. Which was good because Gary sure wanted to be here, to be kissing Troy, losing himself in it, not even caring if it was leading somewhere else. Okay, so his cock cared, but his brain was just taking what was currently on offer and enjoying every last moment of it.
Something rubbed up against Gary's leg and made a strange crying noise, almost like a baby. Startled, Gary gave an embarrassingly girly scream and jumped about a foot off the ground—or he would have if Troy hadn't been holding him against the door.
“What was that?” he asked, voice more squeak than anything else.
“Bobby. My cat."
“You have a cat? Named Bobby?” Gary blinked a couple of times, trying to make the words make sense, trying to clear the kiss-induced fog that had him wrapped up and loopy. He looked down, green eyes in a grey and white tabby cat glaring up at him. It meowed at him again. “What's it want?"
“She probably just wants some attention."
Troy backed off and it was all Gary could do not to whimper at the loss of all those warm muscles pressed up against him. Bending, Troy picked up the cat, which immediately began emitting a low rumbling purr. “Yeah, that was all you wanted, wasn't it, Bobby? I'll stick her in the kitchen. I might as well get us something to drink while I'm in there."
“Sure.” Gary trailed along behind Troy. “Why's her name Bobby if she's a she?"
Troy shrugged. “It suits her."
Well, Gary could hardly argue with that.
The kitchen was on the back left hand side of the apartment. Square-shaped, it was big enough for all the usual appliances, a bit of countertop space and a small card table sized table with two chairs. It was neat and tidy, almost spotless except for the mat on the floor beneath the cat foot and cat water. A few pieces of kibble that had fallen out of the kitty bowl was the only mess in an otherwise immaculate kitchen.
“You order out a lot?” Gary asked, taking in the clear countertops and empty dish rack.
Troy gave him a puzzled look. “No. Why?"
“It's just so clean in here. It doesn't look like anyone cooks in here."
“I do most of my own cooking, actually. That way I know what goes in it.” Troy gave him a wink. “All part of being a health freak."
“Hey, I never called you a freak."
“You were thinking it, though.” God, Troy's eyes were something when they twinkled like that, full of humor and teasing.
“Well ... yeah, maybe."
Troy chuckled and grabbed him around the waist, tugging him up against all those muscles. “You like the results of my health freakery, though, don't you?"
“I do. I do.” He pressed closer, rubbing a little, and sliding his hands up along Troy's arms. “I like the way you feel pressed up close.” It was easy to admit when Troy's cock was pushing eagerly against his belly.
“I was getting you a drink,” murmured Troy, lips touching his, tongue sliding out to get in on the action.
“You were.” He looped his arms around Troy's neck and opened his mouth, inviting Troy in.
“Meow!"
“We were going to lock Bobby in the kitchen, too, so we could do what we're going to do without an audience."
“We were.” He was starting to sound like a broken record, but the truth was that Troy shorted his brain out.
It was Troy who broke the kiss, arms dropping away. He went to the fridge and pulled out a couple bottles of water, tossing one at Gary. He managed not to embarrass himself, catching the bottle before it could go flying across the floor.
Troy chee
red, coming back and looping an arm around his waist. “Come on, let's get out of here while Bobby's still checking out her food."
As they left the kitchen, Troy pulled the door closed. “So. Back to the living room, or would you like to see my bedroom?"
“Would it be too slutty if I said bedroom?"
Troy slowly shook his head and started them across the hall to the half-shut door. “No sluttier than me making the offer."
“Cool.” He grinned, looking around as Troy led him through the door into the man's bedroom.
The walls were painted a dark blue, gold-framed pictures covering the walls. Some were of Troy himself—they were all males in various states of undress, some flexing, some at rest. It was a beautiful study of the male body. Troy's bed was round and sat in the middle of the room, covered in teal blue sheets and a matching comforter.
“It's nice,” he said, looking around, eyes finding a dresser, a full length mirror on the back of the half open closet door.
“Come sit on my bed."
“Said the spider to the fly.” Gary very much felt like he was caught in Troy's web. He didn't mind, though. Not at all.
Troy shivered. “Spiders and flies aren't exactly conducive to the mood here."
“You're not afraid of bugs."
“I'm not?"
“No. You're ... you have all these muscles—you're a big tough guy!” Troy was teasing him.
“I'm a big tough guy who gets the creepy crawlies from creepy crawlies."
Gary laughed at the face Troy was making.
Shaking his head, Troy grabbed him close, silencing his laughter with a kiss. It worked pretty well, too, Gary looped his arms around Troy's neck and kissed back. Their lips merged and separated and merged and separated in kiss after kiss. Finally Troy's tongue teased between his lips and Gary's mouth opened on a soft, happy sigh.
Sweeping in, Troy deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against Gary's own. He opened even wider, and touched Troy's tongue with his, then slid them together, moaning as that sent warmth all through him.
He'd kissed before. Hell, he'd done a bit everything, hand jobs, sucking, being sucked, even fucking, but Troy was kissing him like it wasn't something that you did to get to the next step, Troy was kissing him like he could do this forever, like the kisses themselves were the point. Gary liked this point a whole lot.
Christmas For Gary Page 2
