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“Take a seat. The first batch is nearly done,” Simon said.
A few minutes later, Simon placed a plate of crispy French toast sprinkled with powdered sugar in front of Ben. Then he put a bowl of sliced strawberries and a glass bottle filled with amber maple syrup down onto the table.
Ben tried to eat slowly but it was hard. Everything was too delicious and he was starving. Midway through Ben's plate of French toast, Simon sat down at the table with his own plate, which he topped with strawberries and syrup.
“I haven’t cooked anything up here in years,” Simon said. “Not since I moved into the master suite after my father died.”
Ben considered the implication. “Is my room… I mean is the bedroom here yours? Or was, I guess.”
“I grew up on the fourth floor, yes. When I was little the media room was full of toys. As I grew up, those were exchanged for electronics.”
“So I’m sleeping in your room.” Why that made a difference, Ben couldn’t have said.
“Yes,” Simon said, drawing the word out. “You slept in my room last night, too. Does it make a difference?”
Ben supposed it didn’t, but it was odd to think of a young Simon living up here. “Were you lonely up here all by yourself?”
“Not really. There was always a nanny orau pairuntil I was older. And there were always friends or cousins over. I didn’t have much time to be lonely.” Simon gave Ben a penetrating look. “Are you lonely up here?”
Ben ate a few more bites of his breakfast and thought about it. “Not exactly. I’m used to living on my own. I’ve done it for years.”
Simon looked on the verge of saying something then changed his mind. Instead, he got up and took his dish to the sink, rinsed it, and then put it in the dishwasher. When Ben finished eating, he rose to do the same, but Simon was too fast for him and grabbed the remaining dishes off the table.
“Can you entertain yourself this morning?” Simon asked. “I have a few errands to run.”
Ben gave Simon a disbelieving look. “In your house full of movies and games and books? I think I’ll manage to struggle through. Actually, I’ll probably work on my sketch of you.”
Simon approached, bent his head, and kissed Ben’s forehead. “Good,” he said. “I’ll see you later. We have plans for this evening.”
“We do?” Ben’s cock hardened at the thought, and he was glad he was sitting down.
“Mm hmm. I think you’re really going to enjoy yourself.”
“Are you going to tell me what these plans are?”
“No,” Simon said after a few moments of silence. “It’ll be a surprise.” He stroked Ben’s hair gently then left the kitchen to go down the stairs to do whatever errand he had planned.
Telling himself that he wasn’t feeling lonely because there was no reason to feel that way, Ben headed into his bedroom to work on his sketch.
Tuesday, December 19
Ben’s room
The Gold Coast
When Ben sensed Simon entering his room, he looked up to see two hours had gone by.
“Errands done?” he asked.
Simon seemed particularly happy. He practically twinkled at Ben. “Mostly.” He walked over to look at Ben’s sketchbook, but he quickly flipped the page so Simon couldn’t see it. “It’s still not done,” Ben said.
Simon held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. No peeking, I promise.” With a gentle finger, he lifted a lock of hair from Ben’s forehead. “Doesn’t this bother you? Hanging in your eyes all the time?”
Ben shrugged. “When it gets too long I pull it back or shave it all off. It’s in that irritating mid stage where it’s too long to keep out of my eyes and too short to put in a ponytail. I can’t just throw it all under a beanie here. It’s too warm, so I’ll probably shave it soon.”
Simon winced.
“It grows back really fast,” Ben promised with a smile. “I don’t stay bald more than a day or two.”
