20
CHRIS
Frank's eyes widened.
"My mum taught me the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Judging by the look on your face, Frank, she was right."
"You're asking me to choose. And making it such an impossible decision."
The comment could equally apply to the previous conversation. What would Frank say if the choices consisted of reuniting with his ex or moving on to something new with Chris?
And how would full disclosure affect the answer? If Chris was completely candid and revealed the one thing that made him undesirable to about half the under thirty fives with a Grindr profile? He could still remember a dinner date, not so long ago, when the conversation came up. With the cat out of the bag, his date didn't utter another word, but went and paid for half the meal and left. Without another word. Behavior that Chris couldn't believe possible.
Chris stood up and gathered the plates and cutlery together to clear the table.
He felt a tentative but affectionate hand on his rear. Frank stood up, his body moving up against Chris; invading his space.
Chris replaced the plates on the table and turned into the embrace.
One of Frank's strong arms held him while Frank's other hand brushed against Chris's cheek, moving underneath his chin. "It all sounds very tempting, but I really have eaten enough. There is something else I'd like."
Chris tilted his head; Frank was just slightly taller.
And if Frank was about to say anything else, his words were lost as their lips sealed together.
The sad thoughts that slipped into Chris's mind moved right back out again. Along with all thought. His heart seemed to pump that much harder as the men joined, their mouths, their breathing, their heart beating in unison.
Did Frank have this erection when they started kissing? It pushed against Chris, and his senses were overloaded by new and exciting information.
They parted to take a few deep breaths, but their bodies stayed closely aligned.
It seemed too soon to invite Frank upstairs. Not too soon in the evening—Chris had taken men to bed in far less time—but too soon after Frank had just had to think about whether he'd consider getting back with his ex.
Too soon after Chris had doubted they were going anywhere else that evening.
Too soon for a man who was relationship material and not just a hookup.
Too soon.
Chris came to his senses and suppressed the urge to press forward with desire. "What would you like?" Chris asked, his voice low.
"I'd like to get to know you better." Nodding toward the sofa, Frank asked, "Shall we sit?"
Chris pushed Frank gently in that direction, and when Frank sat down, Chris was tempted to straddled him, but his instincts told him to slow down. "If you're not ready for dessert I wondered if you'd like to go out? We're just a short walk from the harbor, and it's very lively on a Saturday night."
"I'm not keen on going drinking and dancing when we could get to know each other better right here," Frank replied.
Last time they were together, and under the influence of alcohol, Chris had sent Frank on his way rather than take advantage and risk morning after regrets. "Let's sit here and get to know each other better. I'd like to hear about your family, your work, and feed you with desserts." Chris stood up. "Let me get something to drink, to loosen your tongue and make you spill your secrets."
Frank laughed. "You can try."
"That's it. I'm bringing out the secret weapon, along with dessert wine."
When Chris returned to the room moments later with a warm chocolate dessert and cool wine, Frank rejoined him at the table. They chatted as Frank reeled off answers to Chris's questions.
"My parents run the Greek restaurant, Delphi; it's down at the harbor. My sister works there too. My brother lives in Greece. He runs a guesthouse over there, and my parents plan to retire there one day."
"Oh, are you Greek? I've visited a few islands."
"No. Not really. Born and bred in England. My parents are Greek, but we kids never bothered to learn the language. Mark, that's my brother, he can get by as he lives there. He's had to learn it. What else did you want to know? Um, you know I work in construction. And I love your cooking." Frank eyed the spoon covered in chocolatey delight.
"You didn't want to follow your family into the restaurant business?"
"Oh, no. I'm a menace in the kitchen. And they were pleased to see me get out and get steady work. Restaurants can be a dicey way to make a living. January is dead, for example. What about you, Chris? All the same questions back at you."
Chris swallowed his mouthful and washed it down with a glug of water. "Born in the north east, my parents still live up there. They've never approved of my life choices. They didn't want me to study art. They wanted me to do a proper subject. They are disappointed about the whole gay thing, as if I had a choice about that. I swear they think I just did it to spite them. And because it would improve my career prospects as an artist, because, as you know, all the successful artists are gay."
"Are they?" Just one of Frank's eyebrows raised.
"No, I'm kidding. Although there are quite a few when you think about it. I think that's more about being out and obvious whereas gay people in banking or construction, for example, are more often in the closet.”
"So you don't get on with your family?"
Chris told Frank about how he'd moved from the north east, ostensibly to go to art college, but also in pursuit of boys and to get away from his family. "We're not exactly estranged, but we keep contact to the minimum. I'll see them once or twice a year, and we don't stay over."
"Just Christmas and Easter holiday times, is it?"
"Oh, no. I spend Christmas with my new family: Tom, Lee, my close friends. Andrew, when he was alive. He was killed in a car crash a few years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
Chris shrugged. What was there to say? "You should meet Lee and Tom at the barbeque tomorrow. They are my family of choice as opposed to blood relatives."
"That sounds a bit intimidating, introducing me to your family."
"We'll have to get to know each other a lot better before I present you then," Chris flirted.
"How do you propose we do that?"
"We're going to choose between Sambuca and Limoncello; I've got both. And I want to hear more about your family and carpentry and Greece." And examine those tantalizing tattoos that just peek out the edges of your clothing. Oh, yes, and remove your clothing.
Frank and Chris ate the dessert, demolished the sweet wine, mixed their drinks, and talked for hours. They discussed the countries they'd visited. It turned out they had both travelled extensively, and both loved hot sunny weather.
The conversation flowed freely and well, along with the drink.
While there was no doubt in Chris's slightly inebriated mind that he fancied the pants off Frank, Chris also thought they were making a connection that was based on more than a mutual need for sexual gratification. They had much in common. There was a bond between them. A mutual understanding. A shared philosophy.
They worked their way to the sofa, yet again, and this time Chris did straddle his man.
Frank looked a little surprised, just for a moment. Chris took Frank's face in his hands. "My mouth wants to become better acquainted with yours."
A low growl escaped Frank's throat by way of reply.
While the kissing continued, Chris tilted his hips, slowly and totally suggestively, rubbing his hardness against Frank.
They made out like teenagers on the sofa, which was better than Chris could ever remember before. His eyes shut, his other senses engaged. His hands explored Frank's body, moving up under his T-shirt to trace the grooves of his abs.
Perhaps it was time to get more familiar with those tattoos. Chris had a great weakness for men with ink.
He wanted Frank, but was Frank ready? "I'm sorry, Frank, I know I'm moving too fast."