only started up again when he wrapped his arm around Justin, and they strolled through the Parisian summer like two interlaced swans, the scent of lavender dancing between them with every step.
Later, Justin eyed him as he wolfed down his third sandwich, one of the half-priced day-old offerings he’d bought from a bakery they’d found.
“You’re not eating enough, are you?”
Wes froze mid chew. He looked left and right, then wiped his face with his napkin as he tried to avoid Justin’s stare. Justin had a way of peering inside him, like he was picking apart Wes’s thoughts through his eyeballs, figuring out the shape of things Wes couldn’t find words for. “Um.”
“How many calories a day off from your goal are you?”
Justin knew enough about athletics to zero in on the details, ask the question that Wes couldn’t evade. He’d played baseball in high school before switching to the drill team, he’d said, and besides, if anyone thought drill wasn’t a sport, they’d never sat in a Texas high school football stadium on a Friday night. “About two thousand. Or a little bit more.” A lot more. But he couldn’t afford to buy more food. Everything was more expensive than he’d expected, plus he hadn’t planned for the hit he’d taken to his funds at the airport money changer.
Justin grabbed his phone and started tapping at the screen, pulling up a map. “Okay, there’s a supermarché a few blocks away. Let’s go get supplies.”
“Supplies?”
“Yeah. Food for the room. There’s a hot plate and a mini fridge, and I saw a few pots and pans. We can cook a few things. Can you cook?”
“I’m okay if we’re talking hot dogs or sandwiches. Or if we’re cooking over a fire.”
Justin rolled his eyes but smiled. “Okay, so I’ll cook. Let’s get some groceries. I’ll buy some, you buy some, and we’ll save money eating in the room instead of going out for every meal.”
Wes could have kissed him. Justin hadn’t said a word about his own finances, but Wes had spied the optional extras catalog with the pages dogeared in Justin’s duffel, so money clearly wasn’t an issue for him. But he wasn’t pushing, nor was he complaining—when he had every right to, considering meeting Wes had basically bulldozed those dogeared Paris plans—and that quiet support meant the world to Wes.
At the store, Wes loaded up on the basics, stocking up on carbs and proteins, and pastas and cheeses, milk and eggs, sandwich meat and bread, fruits and vegetables. Justin went eclectic, grabbing ingredients to make crepes and homemade pizza, baguettes and chicken breasts and simmer sauces. He looked up recipes on his phone and trolled the aisles, adding a mini mountain to his cart, while Wes followed with his more modest selection. At the end, Justin topped off his haul with a jar of protein powder. “Just in case I can’t fill you up.”
“I think you could give me some shots of protein another way.”
Justin went fuchsia, and he turned into Wes’s chest, smothering a smile as he ran his fingers down Wes’s flat stomach. “I already calculated that into your daily nutrition.”
They made dinner that night, a simple chicken-and-pasta dish with garlic bread. For the first time since he’d arrived in Paris, Wes was full—after eating a pound each of chicken and pasta, along with a whole baguette. He was like a bear entering hibernation, warm and sated and happy, enjoying the breeze coming through the window, half a bottle of wine in his veins. And enjoying the sight of Justin across the little bar top they were eating at, his chin in his hand as he swirled the wine in his glass, smiling with the sun on his face.
Wes tried to thank Justin by doing the dishes while Justin typed emails on his phone, keeping in touch with his family and friends. He wrapped a dish towel around Justin’s eyes when he was done, then dropped to his knees and gave Justin a slow, sloppy blow job. Justin gripped his short hair and thrust into Wes’s mouth, hips shuddering as Wes tried to mimic what Justin had done to him with his tongue and his throat and the way he twisted his lips over the head of his cock. “I’m sorry,” Justin gasped after he shot down Wes’s throat. “I thought I’d last longer. Jesus, that was too good.”
Wes licked his lips. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Justin laughed, pulled Wes up, and kissed him until Wes was dizzy,