He pulled on his robe and wandered to the bathroom where he relieved himself and brushed his teeth so Dash would enjoy the first kiss of the day. He looked in the mirror. Too little sleep and too much fucking made every one of his years visible in the early morning light. Maybe a shower first?

“Thorne, are you up?” Dash called.

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m making pancakes; come tell me what kind you want.”

Thorne’s heart pounded. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Walk out that door and ask him.

Thorne walked out the door. Dash stood in the kitchen in boxer-briefs and an apron, his hair standing up, flour on his face. He looked young, painfully young, and happy and energetic. I can always ask him after breakfast.

Thorne poured himself a cup of coffee, took a few sips, wrapped his arms around Dash from behind and checked out the batter he was stirring.

“Mmm. Good morning,” Dash said, turning to give Thorne a light kiss.

“Yes, I think it will be.” Holding Dash like this, things felt right again. They were no different than they’d been last night, when they were so close, so connected. Maybe Dash would say yes.

“I can make banana, blueberry, chocolate chip, or plain. What do you want?”

“Wow, I haven’t had chocolate chip pancakes since…I don’t know…college.”

Dash shook his head. “That’s a crime. You’re going to have some right now.”

He reached into a canvas market bag on the counter and pulled out a bag of chips. Thorne watched, arms still around him, as he opened them and poured them into a dish, which he set next to the stove.

“Do you want to learn the art of pancake making?” Dash asked.

“No, I just can’t stop touching you.” Thorne moved in closer, nuzzling Dash’s neck and breathing deeply of his scent.

Dash slapped playfully at his hands. “Watch if you want, but no way in hell can I concentrate with you so close.”

Thorne smiled. “Fair enough.” If things went well, he wouldn’t have to wait a week to touch Dash again.

Ask him.

After breakfast.

Coward.

I’m just hungry.

“Go. Sit.” Dash gestured toward the barstools on the opposite side of the counter.

Thorne took his coffee and sat. He watched Dash sprinkle water on the griddle. The droplets sizzled and danced around.

“What was that for?” Thorne asked.

“To see if it was hot enough. You really don’t know how to make pancakes?”

“I understand the basic theory but…no, not ones you’d want to eat,” Thorne confessed.

“I really should teach you some basics.”

Thorne shook his head. “I’m hopeless. Besides, it’s more fun to watch you do it.”

Dash gave him a mock scowl and poured out batter on the griddle. When there were six perfect circles there, he sprinkled each with chocolate chips.