you lazy arse?” hoping to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, yeah, keep your hair on.” He appeared in the doorway. “I was just texting my mum.” He rolled his eyes and held up his phone. “She asked if I’d heard from my dad lately. Subtle, she is not.”
“Did you tell her he’d been here?” I asked over my shoulder as I got ingredients out of the fridge.
“I gave her a brief rundown of what was said.” He reached into the cupboard as he spoke, retrieving one of the recipe boxes, looking completely at home in my kitchen. "She was a little horrified, especially when I told her you heard.” He waited until I met his gaze.
I scowled, unable to help it.
He bit his lip. “I’m really sorry about that. I don’t know why he said it.” I had a fairly good idea. “He never had a problem with me being gay. Also, he’s seven years older than my mum and they met when she was eighteen, so that would make him a fucking hypocrite if it’s about the age difference.”
Hmm, maybe I was wrong then, but I wasn’t convinced.
“He was probably pissed off about me not having a job he can boast about to his rich mates.” Glancing down at his feet, he sighed. “I think I embarrass him,” he said softly, looking sad and vulnerable and incredibly young in that moment.
I really wanted to punch his dad.
Jasper had spent twelve months seeing and doing things some people only got to dream about, and he’d paid for it all himself. In my mind that was something to be incredibly fucking proud of. I really wanted to hug him, and I had to cross my arms to stop myself from reaching for him.
Then I caught him blinking back tears.
Fuck that.
I stepped towards him and tugged him against my chest, wrapping my arms around him. He resisted at first; then his whole body relaxed into me, and he rested his head on the top of my shoulder.
We stayed like that for what seemed like ages, and I tried hard not to enjoy it too much. He felt good in my arms, a solid weight pressed against me, but this was about giving him comfort when he felt like shit.
Nothing more.
After a while he sniffed, then huffed out a laugh. “Jeez, there’s no wonder I embarrass him. Look at the state of me.”
“Hey,” I said, pushing him back a little so I could see his face. He ducked his head as a lone tear escaped and ran down his cheek.
“Fuck,” he whispered, closing his eyes, cheeks flushing a furious pink.
I tilted his chin up and brushed the tear away with my thumb. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. If he can’t see how awesome you are, then that’s on him, not you.”
Jasper huffed. “You’re only saying that because I’m a weepy mess in your kitchen.”
I smiled. “Well, that’s true.”
He pinched my side and I laughed, shying away.
“Thank you, though,” he whispered, meeting my eyes and not looking away this time. “For saying that.”
I swallowed, thinking I should probably step back and put some space between us. But my feet refused to move. My thumb still rested on his cheek and I stroked it back and forth, the catch of stubble tickling my skin as I moved lower to cup his jaw.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and when he licked over his bottom lip, it was like a switch flipped and I was moving before I realised.
I slid my hands into his hair, fingers gripping the inky strands as I urged him closer. His mouth met mine, warm and inviting, and I closed my eyes as we kissed. The little moan he made hit me low in the belly and I backed him up against the breakfast bar, satisfied when I could press against him without fear of us falling over.
We were roughly the same height, which was perfect as far as I was concerned. My cock nudged against his growing erection, the slight friction a delicious tease as he spread his legs and pulled me tight against him.
All my reasons for not doing this flew out the window under the heat of his mouth, his hands sliding down my back to rest above my arse, and the soft noises he made as we kissed. I was left in no doubt that Jasper was a grown man who knew what he wanted.
And it was that realisation that had me pulling back with a sigh.