He’d read to the kids in evening, and Ian would put them to bed before coming to sit with him while they put something on the TV and cuddled together.
It was good.But he wanted more.He wanted to kiss Ian.He wanted to kiss him bad.But he was scared of disrupting the balance they had right now.And did he have a right to expect that from Ian?Was that fair?Did he care if it was or wasn’t?
He couldn’t believe that Ian had just…waited for him to come home.
He knew his husband had been busy with the kids, had been staying at home a lot, but…
Of course he hadn’t exactly been playing the field either, had he?But he’d had hockey.Training, playing, watching, thinking, hell, he’d dreamed about hockey.
Now… now he dreamed about.Well, hockey.But not just hockey, and the other thing he dreamed about was right here.
Right here and loving him.
He knew Ian loved him, wanted him.And he wanted Ian, loved him, too.He just wasn’t sure how to… reconnect.
“I’m going to make bacon sandwiches, JP.You want one?”Ian smiled at him from the doorway.
“For real?That’s the best offer I’ve had in… a very long time.”He rubbed his tummy and licked his lips.
“Yeah, I had a craving.You want cheese?You want toast and butter?Mayo?Tomato?”
He wrinkled his nose.“Do not sully my bacon with cheese or tomato.”
Ian chuckled softly.“Spinach?Pesto?A little hummus?”
“Stop it.Seriously don’t even mention those in the same sentence as bacon.”
“Poor, poor delicate flower.”Ian winked at him.“All right, I’ll be back in a bit.”
“You’ll be telling me next you like pineapple on your pizza,” he called out as Ian disappeared.
“Broccoli and brussels sprouts!”Ian called back.
Well, that was worse than pineapple.He made gagging noises as loudly as he could.
Ian’s laughter filled the air, and he sat up.He wanted to watch his husband cook bacon.
If he sat and leaned over he could watch that ass as Ian moved around the kitchen, getting the bacon and the pan, the bread.It was awkward, though, so he got up and made his way over to sit on one of the kitchen chairs.
“Look at you, coming to sit.You’re moving easier, I think.”Ian’s smile was warm, almost gentle.
“I am.It’s feeling better.”He was limpy as hell, but in far less pain.
“That’s amazing.I’m glad to hear it.”Ian leaned against the counter with a happy sigh.
“That bacon smells amazing.And I believe you’re not going to serve it like you used to.Extra crispy.”That’s what they’d called it, but truth was it had been burnt.After the first few attempts, they’d stopped trying to make it at home and it would be a treat when they went out for brunch.
“I’ve really worked hard to be able to feed the kids good food, you know?I wanted them to be proud.”
“Well, you haven’t served me a bad meal yet.”Everything had been yummy, from simple sandwiches to soups, burgers and everything else.
“Thanks.I worked hard.”Ian shrugged.“I mean, I’m not a team nutritionist feeding your six-thousand calories a day.”
He snorted.“If I ate like that right now I’d turn into the Bonhomme.”
“You still need calories to heal, though, right?So bacon sandwiches and omelets.”
“I can definitely still eat.You don’t need to go to the trouble of making me extra, though.I’m good with just the bacon sandwiches.”
