Morning came and Yves woke up to the smell of oriental spices coming from the kitchen. With a groan, he pushed himself up from the bed, the thick blanket slipping off of his naked body. After putting on his glasses and a pair of boxers, he trotted to the kitchen, ignoring the slight twinge of pain to his backside.
Timothy stood by the stove with a plain shirt and a black boxer brief, a wooden ladle in hand. He had his hair on a messy top knot while he sauteed vegetables on the skillet. The slight shake of his butt while humming along with the music on his smartphone made Yves smile.
Cute.
Yves came up behind Timothy and peeked over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around the man's midsection. "What are you cooking, Tim?"
Not even a flinch at his sudden appearance, Timothy craned his neck to give a kiss to his temple before answering. "Just some Baguio beans and carrots with minced pork. Did you sleep well?"
"Mmhm."
"Of course you would. I've made sure to tire you out."
Yves gave a playful punch to Timothy's rib at the implication of his statement, earning him a laugh that deepened his blush. Not that it was a lie, but he didn't need to announce it out loud. "Asshole. Hurry up with the vegies. I'm hungry."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Breakfast was served not long after he washed the sleep off of his face. Yves spotted his clothes in a hamper, so he pulled a white cotton shirt from his drawer. Timothy must have cleared the mess in the living room while he was asleep, including the torn pages of the magazine. It was already in the trash can.
Well, he can do nothing about it.
Yves shrugged and went back to the kitchen, where Timothy sat on a chair, waiting for him. The beautiful smile thrown at him warmed his heart as he took a seat next to his boyfriend. He took in the fragrant fume that bombarded his nose with rich flavors, enticing his salivary glands. "Smells yummy."
"Of course. The one who cooked it is yummy," Timothy said as he scooped rice to his plate. He paused to stare at the suppressed smile threatening to spread on Yves' lips. "What? Do you have any objections?"
Yves averted his gaze and grabbed the bowl of vegetables. He scooped a generous amount to Timothy's plate, pretending not to the rhetorical question. "Let's just eat. You're not you when you're hungry—haha! What? Stop it!"
Timothy bit his lower lip and smiled as he continued pinching Yves' legs with his toes. When Yves' still refused to give the answer he wanted to hear, Timothy stood from his chair and hooked his thumb to his underwear's garter.
"No! I don't have objections!" Yves shrieked, pushing the man away, his restrained laughter bursting out as Timothy lowered one side to show a patch of hair. "Fine! Fine! You are yummy too. Geez!"
Timothy went back to his chair with a satisfied smile. "I thought you have objections. I'm gonna shove this to your mouth."
Yves cackled, covering his face with one hand to hide his embarrassment. "Stop it. Let's eat."
Breakfast went smoothly like usual with Timothy's occasional dirty jokes, and Yves reacting to it as if it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day. Well, for Yves, it was. Every exaggerated gesture and every word that came out of his boyfriend's mouth, it was music to his ears, no matter how cliche that sounded.
Three years.
It's been three years, but the consistency in their dynamics remained. As they washed the dishes side by side, Yves couldn't help but cast a hopeful glance as he mumble out loud, "We already look like husbands, don't we? All that's left is..."
"Marriage?" Timothy finished with a tone of disinterest. He squeezed the sponge in his hand and continued washing the plates. "You're so hang up in that nonsense like a child who believes something magical will happen once the priest said, 'I pronounce you husband and husband.'"
Yves sighed. "It's not like I'm expecting something like that, Tim. And it's not nonsense. It's a celebration of love."
"You can celebrate love without all the fancy stuff and ceremonies. I'm sure you're aware of how much money Pat and Nick's families spent for that wedding. They spent millions."
"So? It's their money."
"Yeah, their money. Sure. Can't argue with that. But imagine if they've used it in something more purposeful, like tree-planting, donating to an orphanage, or creating an organization to save the stray animals. All that money wasted for a ceremony that's not even acknowledged by the law."
Yves opened his mouth to argue that legislators like Richard were working on its legalization, but after remembering their conversation at the altar, he had a second mind bringing up the older man.
"What, no rebuts?" Timothy asked, upon noticing his silence.
"I don't want to have an argument with you. We're having a quality time. Let's not ruin that."
Timothy turned off the faucet and sighed. After wiping his hands on a dry towel, he came up behind Yves to wrap his arms around him. "I don't want to argue either, so let's just not talk about it, okay? We're okay as we are. We don't need those kinds of stuff."
Yves didn't give an answer and just continued washing the dishes until he's done. Timothy's hands stayed nestled on his stomach, pinching, fiddling with the skin below his navel. Occasionally, a kiss would be placed at his neck and at the back of his ear. As much as he wanted to sulk, the shower of affection shattered his brooding feeling into warm flutters.
The kisses became more fervent as silence between them dragged on. The hardness poking Yves from behind entailed a pleasure-filled endeavor in the well-lit kitchen. Timothy pulled the collar of Yves' white shirt to expose his milky shoulder, his tongue lapping on a mole before sucking on the skin.
A gasp slipped out of his mouth when Timothy rolled his hips to his ass. Yves threw his head up, fingers kneading through silky black hair to guide Timothy's head to his mouth.
"Kitchen or bedroom?" Timothy asked, catching his parted lips in a heated kiss.
Yves spun around and dragged his hands to Timothy's ass, pulling his hips closer to grind their aching groin against each other. He felt a shiver from the man when he slipped his icy fingers inside the black underwear, pinching the meaty backside once before groping the pulsing rod at the front.
Before things got more heated between them, the telephone rang in the living room. They both froze, and Yves let go of Timothy's member, much to his boyfriend's disappointment. But he had to answer it.
"O-One moment, Tim. That could be urgent," Yves said. The call was on a landline and not his personal phone, so it meant business.
Timothy gave a reassuring smile. "Okay, Baby. Go on."
Yves slid away between the sink and Timothy's body, batting away the hand that slapped his ass. With a playful glare, he jogged to living room and answered the call to end incessant ringing. "Hello?"
"Good morning, Yves. Did I wake you? How was your friends's wedding?"
Yves recognized the woman's voice and shook his head, despite the person not seeing his movement. "No, it's alright, Michelle. I've been awake for a while now. Why are calling?"
"Just calling to let you know that we have a meeting with your possible first client later this afternoon. Let me know if you have other plans today so I can assign it to a different personnel."
"Ah, no. I don't have any plans for today."
"Great! Then please be at the office no later than three o'clock."
"Okay. Thanks, Mich. I'll be there at two. Anything else?"
"That's all, Hun. Bye."
Yves slid his phone back in its cradle. Well, it's time to get ready for work.