though, and he’d decided to try his own hand at cooking. Sadly, it had been Tom’s mom and not his own who had coached him through the first simple meal of roast beef and potatoes that he had planned for Teddy and Cath, his kids.
He wasn’t a gourmet cook, but no one had died yet from the meals he’d prepared.
Jack went to put on a pot of coffee, and while it was brewing, he switched on the radio that sat in a corner of the counter, then went in search of the ingredients he would need to put together breakfast. As he expected, he found everything he’d need.
“Tommy boy, I’m gonna dazzle you with my culinary expertise!” And it would be one more step in his master plan of persuading Tom that they should live together.
He rummaged around in the spotless kitchen, looking for the skillet.
“Ah, Tom, you are going to be so spoiled this morning!”
Jack put the skillet on the range, put strips of bacon into it, and turned on the flame. He washed and hulled the strawberries he found in the crisper in the fridge. There was some whipped cream left over from the night before, and that would go perfectly with the strawberries.
He turned over the bacon that was sizzling in the skillet. then broke eggs into a bowl. Fried or scrambled? Decisions, decisions.
The Four Seasons came on the radio, and as he cooked, he sang along with them. “ Oh what a night… But I was never gonna be the same, as I remember what a night .”
Finally, everything was ready. Jack poured two cups of coffee and placed them beside the plates on a tray.
“Wake up, merry sunshine,” he called out as he entered Tom’s bedroom. There was no response from the lump that lay face down in the middle of the bed. He set the tray on the nightstand and shook his shoulder. “C’mon, Tom! Everything’s getting cold!”
“Go ‘way.” The words were garbled, but Jack had no problem understanding them.
“Wake up! Time’s a-wastin’!” He yanked down the bedspread, and Tom groaned.
“Fuck ti…” The word was kissed from his mouth. “Hey!”
“Morning breath alert!”
“Jack, you…”
Jack laughed. He had no intention of letting Tom sulk. He eyed his friend’s morning wood, and before Tom could continue growling, swooped down on it, licking it like a lollipop.
“Jack…” Tom sighed voluptuously. “Hey!” he protested as Jack let his dick slip from his mouth.
“Morning, buddy. Go take a leak and slap some water on your face. Breakfast is ready!” He held the coffee under his friend’s nose and grinned as it twitched. He did make good coffee, if he said so himself.
“What time is it?” Tom yawned hugely and peeled open an eyelid. Both eyes opened wide as he saw the time. “Jack…”
“Come on!” Jack pulled Tom out of bed and gave his butt a friendly smack. “Get a move on! We’ve got a lot to do today!”
“What’d’ya mean we have a lot to do? It’s Saturday. We don’t have to do a damned thing!”
Actually, they did. The faucet in the kitchen sink was leaking, the window in the back door needed to be re-caulked, and he’d notice that one of the slats in the backyard fence needed to be replaced. But he’d just wait until after breakfast to tell Tom.
Jack admired the view as his friend stalked across the room, grumbling the entire way, un-self-consciously naked.
He licked his lips. Oh, yeah. That could all wait.
Come to think of it, even breakfast could wait.
“ ‘Oh, what a… ’ hmmm. Not night any more. ‘… morning…’” He followed his friend into the bathroom.
Chapter 3
Except This Monday
Rainy days and Mondays always bring me down… Karen Carpenter
People hate Mondays, if only on general principle. The weekend, two days of play, has ended, and it’s the start of the work week, five days of the old grind. Monday means it’s time to haul ass out of bed and join the rat race once more.
Not Tom Hansom, however. He enjoyed the weekends, when he could have as many as three different