The sunrise has slowly started to add a little more light to the room, making the Christmas lights more a soft twinkle than a harsh yellow glow. Devon’s eyes are fixated on mine. I see a hint of naughtiness behind them and know he was thinking of a totally different kind of breakfast – just as I had been.
‘I thought you said you didn’t have telepathic powers,’ I joke, raising an eyebrow and brushing my lips over his. I like that I can do that, and I love how his body reacts towards mine. I’m not ready to move away from him just yet and will happily choose from the menu he is thinking of.
‘I can’t go around giving away all my secret superhero powers now, can I?’ he notes through a mock modest smirk.
‘So, these powers…’ I start as Devon moves his hands to my hips and throws me over his shoulder. I shriek and try to get away but when my wriggling has no effect, I relax and let my head dangle admiring my view; it truly is the perfect view, hmm buns of steel.
‘What did you say?’ Devon asks, walking past the kitchen and up the stairs.
‘Huh? What? Oh nothing,’ I say, not realising I’d said that out loud and not sounding even the slightest bit innocent.
‘You’re not too bad yourself,’ Devon adds tapping me on the bum; I don’t hate it and I let out a giggle as he pushes open my bedroom door.
*
We eventually make it down for pancakes and I am very much enjoying the scene in my kitchen of Devon in his boxers helping prepare breakfast. We casually potter around the kitchen chatting about New York and Springhollow, what’s changed over the years, what Devon misses, but how he loves acting. I find myself talking freely about comic books when the subject turns to Devon’s new film.
‘So, what was it like getting to wear the suit every day?’ I ask, having held in certain questions before, simply out of fear of discussing our nerdy past and getting too attached, but this morning it rolls off my tongue with ease and excitement. ‘I bet you didn’t want to take it off.’ I smile flipping a pancake.
He leans against the counter sipping on his coffee. I can see the huge smile forming from behind his mug.
‘OK, besides all the wires and the awkwardness of going to the toilet; Scar, it was incredible. I felt invincible in that thing. It was so thick and detailed and comfy. I felt like if I fell, I would just bounce right back up again. It really felt like it was meant to be, all the curves and contours fitting to my body. I mean I know it was custom made for me but still – come on, it was awesome. Made to fit me,’ he adds at the end with a wistful disbelief that makes my heart patter.
I slide the pancake onto a plate all while studying his face. ‘I’m so proud of you, D. I should have said it sooner, but I’m so bloody proud of you. You did it, you really did it and you make the absolute perfect superhero,’ I say, trying not to let my emotions get the best of me but nearly choking on the joy that envelops my chest and restricts the words coming out of my throat.
Devon takes the plate from me, that spark, that unignorable static that fizzes whenever we are close catches my fingertips and we just stand there and smile at each other for a moment. ‘You’re really lovely, you know,’ I say, feeling that familiar warmth and safety wash over me.
Devon grins that shy grin of his, where his eyes narrow and nose crinkles making the smile on my own face widen. My stomach rumbling interrupts the romantic moment and Devon gives me a gentle nudge towards the table.
‘How are your parents doing?’ I ask, pouring syrup over my stack of buttery, fluffy pancakes and trying to take my mind off the curves and contours of D’s body.
‘Same old.’ Devon places his forearms on the edge of the table, knife and fork aloft in thought. ‘I missed your dad a lot when we first got to New York – I still do. You know what my parents are like. I think they will forever be disappointed that I’m working on Broadway and not Wall Street. But I guess, like your mum, I know they mean well. They always said they would support me, and they did,’ he finishes, placing his knife and fork down and grabbing the can of whipped cream. I watch as he throws his head back and squirts it into his mouth. When he catches my eye, he smirks and passes me the can.
I chuckle and swallow my last bite of pancake, taking the cold can as I give Devon a sympathetic shrug to acknowledge my understanding of his parents. I love my mother but for once I’d love for her to love all of me – failures, flaws and all.
‘To never growing up,’ Devon says nudging the can in my hand; always the sidekick encouraging me to misbehave and feed the child within me.
The squirty sound of the whipped cream can hisses as Devon pushes the nozzle. The scrumptious treat tickles my tongue as I quickly push back in my chair to stop Devon squirting any more into my mouth. He’s got his hand wrapped around mine, doing the deed for me. He’s now laughing while I’m trying not to dribble whipped cream all over the place.
‘Oi!’ I splutter, hands reaching for a napkin, while Devon casually goes to spray more cream into his own mouth. I quickly dab at my chin and then knock the can, causing him to miss his mouth and squirt it all over his cheek, in turn leading it to drip down his chest.
‘Touché.’ He laughs, quirking his eyebrow. A blush spreads over his cheeks as he looks down at the mess. I grab the napkins, pretending I need them all to wipe my face, which makes him laugh and shake his head further. I get back to eating my pancakes like nothing has happened leaving him to clean up after himself, but Devon isn’t fazed. He simply stands up to the side of me where he pauses, giving me a face full of his lower torso. Satisfied when I cough through a bite of syrup-covered pancake, he walks over to the sink, nonchalantly asking, ‘Everything OK over there?’
‘Mmm yep. All good,’ I reply with no way of hiding the lust in my voice. I don’t turn around, instead I just focus on my food. The next second D’s hands are on my shoulders and I can feel his breath on my neck.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he whispers in my ear. A grin spreads across my face but I don’t look at him, I simply enjoy the giddiness that he evokes. The next second I am pushing myself up on my chair, so I reach Devon’s height and I spin around to face him.
‘I have an idea,’ I exclaim. ‘Popcorn and all the comic book movies I have missed, please.’
‘Have I ever told you how much I love your ideas,’ Devon replies, nodding his head at me. He then turns around allowing me to jump on his back as he walks towards the cupboards so we can retrieve our snack.
*
The tree lights sparkle, the fire is burning, The Avengers is on the TV and Devon is by my side; it’s utter bliss and takes me back to our childhood Saturday mornings watching cartoons. The kissing and the pausing to get a little naughty under the mistletoe is a rather new and delicious grown-up version of fun that I can’t get enough of. It doesn’t feel strange or odd to be kissing my best friend. It all feels incredibly natural.
Looking at Devon now sitting by the coffee table on a mound of blankets we brought down from upstairs, his hair is a touch wavy and decidedly messy having had my hands in it most of the morning; his cheeks are full and rosy, a permanent smile procuring that effect; and his body that should be positively out of place in my small living quarters is every bit perfect. His biceps have grown tenfold and are solid as a rock; his stomach displays the subtle hint of abs but is toned and strong, and forget about those legs that lead to his peachy butt. He’s like one of my action heroes come to life and well, he is now an actual action hero and is very much alive in front of me. As these thoughts are swimming through my head, I don’t notice Devon move until he’s nuzzling my neck, causing those scrumptious tingles to ignite my whole body.