Leo
How long can I sit in my car instead of getting out and going up to the apartment to face Bishop? I’ve made it half an hour already, surely, I could stretch that out to the rest of the night. Hell, I could probably live here if I really put my mind to it. It’s nearly as roomy as the first studio apartment I rented in New York. Although, I did buy it cheap and used the weekend I moved here and there is a certain unpleasant odor that air fresheners haven’t managed to combat yet, so maybe it’s not ideal.
I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was too chicken all those years ago, and maybe that was my subconscious telling me it was a terrible idea. Now our friendship is probably ruined, and that thought more than anything, twists my gut.
I take a deep breath in an attempt to fortify myself. I’ll go up there and apologize. I got my wires crossed, and it won’t happen again. I’ll actually start looking for my own place so I can get out of his hair, and everything will be fine.
I can hear music playing through the door when I reach the apartment. I step inside, and the smell of something slightly burnt tickles my nose.
“B?” I call out.
“In the kitchen,” he answers, his voice sounding light. That has to be a good sign, right?
I toe off my shoes and set my briefcase down beside the couch and then head into the kitchen.
“Are you cooking dinner?” I ask, finding him surrounded by dirty dishes and various food products.
“Trying,” he says with a self-deprecating kind of smirk. “I figured if it doesn’t turn out, I’ll just toss it in the trash and order takeout.”
“Having a backup plan is key,” I agree, sidling up closer to him to check whatever he has in the pot he’s stirring. “Spaghetti?” I guess, noticing the simmering sauce and a second pot with boiling pasta.
“I’ve successfully made it before, so I figured it was a safe bet.”
“Have you been living on takeout for the past twelve years?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Mostly, and Hudson cooks a lot. My friend Seph likes to cook too, so between the two of them, I’m usually covered.”
I bristle a little at the mention of Hudson, but I bite my tongue. So far it doesn’t seem like Bishop is too upset about the kiss this morning, so the last thing I want to do is give him a reason to get pissed at me.
“About this morning…”
Damn.
“I’m sorry about that,” I rush to say. Bishop keeps his attention fixed on the stove, slowly stirring the marinara sauce as if his life depends on it.
“I know you and Hudson have this rivalry or whatever, but I’m not a Tonka Truck. Just because you see him playing with me doesn’t mean you need to swoop in and try to take a turn yourself,” he says firmly.
I draw back in surprise. Of all the things I thought he might say to me about the kiss, that was not it.
“B, I wasn’t—”
“Don’t,” he cuts me off, gripping the spoon tightly in his hand until his knuckles turn white. “I know you don’t see me that way, and I’m okay with that, but I can’t take you fucking with my head to prove a point to Hudson or whatever that was.”
He’s okay with it? Does that mean….
“I—” I attempt to start again.
“Seriously, Leo, can we not? I’ve said what I needed to say, can we leave it alone now?”
“Fuck, Bishop, would you let me get a word in edgewise?” I snap, my frustration boiling over as my stomach twists in a whole new way. He turns and looks at me for the first time, his forehead scrunched, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Sorry, go ahead.”
“I didn’t kiss you because I saw you with Hudson, I…” My heart lodges in my throat, and I do my best to swallow around it. “I moved back because I felt like maybe I was an idiot who walked away from something good when I left here all those years ago.”
His face scrunches, his eyebrows shooting up as surprise colors his features.
“You moved back here because you got a better job,” he argues.
I give a sharp shake of my head, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. “I got the job after I told you I was moving back.”
“Wait, what are you saying?” He presses his fingertips against his forehead, looking at me like I’ve grown a second head or maybe just trying to process what I’m telling him.
“I wanted you before I knew Hudson had you. Or, at least I wanted to see if there was something more between us than friendship.” I take a step closer, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him or back Bishop against the counter and kiss him again.
“What is even happening in my life right now?” he mutters, seemingly to himself.
“Oh shit, the pasta,” I say, noticing the pot behind him starting to boil over.
“Dammit,” he curses, spinning around and turning off the burner.
I take a step back to give him space to salvage dinner, leaning quietly against the kitchen entryway. My heart is still beating too fast, my confession hanging unresolved between us. His movements are a little jerky as he drains the pasta and then pours it into a large bowl he has set off to the side.
When he finally looks at me again, I can see the uncertainty written all over his face.
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve basically been single my whole life and all of the sudden I have three different guys climbing all over me. Not that I’m complaining, but I’d be lying if I said I understood it. I’m starting to wonder if I’m on a prank show or something.”
“This isn’t exactly what I was picturing when I got it in my head to move back here and woo you, but fuck it, I want to see where this goes.”
“I’m up for that.” He ducks his head, but not before I catch the sight of a smile on his lips. I move around him to turn off the burner for the spaghetti sauce before turning back to him.
“How about we try that kiss one more time then?”
Bishop’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and then gives a sharp nod of his head. I lean against the counter beside the stove and crook a finger at my best friend, my stomach exploding with butterflies as he shuffles closer.
I lick my lips, reaching out and grabbing him by the hips as soon as he’s close enough, dragging him to me so we’re chest to chest, breathing the same air, our noses nearly touching. Bishop’s breath hitches, his hands finding their way onto my chest. But this time he isn’t pushing me away, he’s wrapping his fingers around the front of my stiff button-up shirt.
I press my lips to his, and it’s completely different than it was this morning. His mouth is still warm and sweet, but this time his lips part, his whole body becoming pliant under my touch. I tease my tongue into the heat of his mouth, and he meets me with his own. His moan vibrates in my mouth as our tongues slide against each other, hot and wet, our lips moving in tandem, our cocks growing hard against each other.
“Wow,” Bishop breathes when we part.
“Yeah,” I agree with a soft laugh. “I kind of feel like we should’ve done that a long time ago. What the hell were we waiting for?”
“I was kind of waiting for you to come home or at least hoping you would,” he admits, a smile curving on his damp, pink lips. He leans forward and kisses me again, this one quick and chaste, but it makes something warm and happy bloom in my chest all the same.