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We’re at my place this morning, which makes things easier. Alastor lives in a more suburban area, further out from the city, so we’d need to drive to get anywhere if we were at his.
“I want pancakes,” he announces.
I consider the options for a second. “There’s a place across the road that does ricotta pancakes. I haven’t tried them, but Trent says they’re good.”
Alastor’s face screws up. “I want real pancakes. Not healthy hipster ones.”
I roll my eyes. I’m not sure how healthy ricotta pancakes are but I get his point. “There’s a crepes place up the street?”
He ponders it for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“HAVEYOU got any t-shirts that’ll fit me?” he asks, tossing aside the one he wore here yesterday, which is clearly in need of washing.
“Yeah, probably.” He’s notthatmuch bigger than me, but I tend to wear my clothes snug, which puts the bulk of my wardrobe at least a size smaller than Alastor. I rummage through my t-shirt drawer and manage to find a plain grey t-shirt that I’m pretty sure will fit.
I toss the tee to Alastor and he catches it out of the air, holding it up in front of him. “This isn’t one of Trent’s, is it?” The expression on his face confuses me. It’s a mix of wariness and resignation; as though he’s bracing himself for something.
“No. It’s one I got online. They got the size wrong. Why?” I ask curiously. “Trent wouldn’t care even if it was his.” Not that Trent is in the habit of leaving clothes at my place—maybe once upon a time when he was living in Sydney and used to crash here sometimes if he was here for a visit. But that was a long time ago.
Alastor gives a sharp shake of his head, as though coming out of a daze. “No reason. Just wondering.” He shoves the t- shirt over his head and flashes me a wry smile. “You getting dressed, or are you planning to go out like that?”
I cast my gaze down at the towel wrapped around my waist and roll my eyes at him. “Smartarse.”
I quickly throw on briefs, jeans, and a t-shirt, and then we’re heading out the door.
“Fuck, I need a shave,” Alastor murmurs when we’re in the lift on the way down to street level. He’s rubbing a hand over his jaw, studying himself in the mirrored wall.
“No you don’t.”
He turns his gaze to me, one eyebrow arched in amusement. “Really?”
I nod, reaching up to run my fingers over the growth on his jaw. “Scruffy’s hot.”
“I thought you didn’t like scruffy? Isn’t that why you did this to my hair?” he gestures at his hair, which has now returned to his natural auburn, but is still styled in the neat at the sides, wild on top cut I chose for him weeks ago.
“I did that to piss you off,” I say with a smirk. “And because it also looks hot.”
The discussion on his hair ends when we reach ground level and I direct us the few blocks up the street to the crepes place I mentioned. It’s pretty busy, being a Saturday morning, but we’re able to squeeze into a small table at the back.
We’ve just placed our order—Nutella and banana crepes for me, and crepe suzette for Alastor—when my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I tug it out to see Trent’s name flashing up.
“Hey mate, what’s up?”
“Just checking in. I meant to call when we got home last night but jet lag got the best of me.”
Jesus Christ. How did I forget Trent and Xav were getting back from their honeymoon last night? I was a little preoccupies with Alastor’s hand in my arse, but still
“Nah, that’s cool. How was your flight?”
Across the table, Alastor’s eyes widen, telling me I’m not the only one who forgot our besties were due home yesterday .
“Ah, you know—long haul flight from Europe in cattle class. Not much to rave about,” he says with a chuckle.
I let out a soft laugh.No doubt.I’ve never been to Europe myself, but I can imagine. “Worth it, though?” I ask.
“Yeah, absolutely. Xav’s already talking about next time,” he says, voice full of affection.
I’m trying to think of a way to wrap up the conversation so I can get back to our...date? Is that what this is? I give a sharp shake of my head to toss out that confusing thought. Regardless of the definition, though, I don’t want to spend the whole time chatting on the phone, even though I do want to hear about Trent’s trip at some point.
