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The bread was better than the shellfish. Absolutely, but the mussel wasn’t bad.
They finished up the mussels, Rome eating most of them, while he got the lion’s share of the sauce-soaked bread. Rome had somehow gleaned that he preferred it, without him having said a word.
The man was an amazing Daddy. Fillion wanted to stay right where he was.
“Ready for our third fishes?” Rome pulled over one of the containers they had yet to consume, and opened it up. “Fish with a beurre blanc. I’m not sure what kind of fish, but it looks nice and flaky.”
“I love beurre blanc. It’s almost as good as brown butter.” Gnocchi with brown butter was his favorite meal, ever.
“Almost, but not quite. Brown butter on fresh bread is like heaven in your mouth.”
“Or, oh. Honey butter.” He made a yummy sound.
“Mmmm. Yes.” Rome leaned in and kissed him, a gentle touch of their lips together. “Almost as yummy as you.”
“Oh.” His lips parted, his gaze searching Rome’s.
Rome’s eyes were warm, focused on him. Then Rome kissed him again.
He sighed, one hand resting on Rome’s belly.
Rome rubbed their noses together, then turned back to the food, gathering up a forkful of the fish and running it through the butter. The delicate bite was offered to him.
Oh, that was stunning, and he groaned. “That’s so good, Da—Mister Rome.”
“You’ve got good instincts, boy. You should follow them.” Then Rome took a bite for himself. “Mmm. This is good.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” He opened his mouth for his next bite, eager for it.
“It really is.” Rome fed him another bite, and then another. It was only after his third or fourth mouthful that he realized that he’d been fed the lion’s share of the piece of fish.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was a piggy, wasn’t I?”
“My dear boy—I was feeding you, so you don’t have to apologize. It was my choice. You were enjoying it so much, I couldn’t resist watching you eat more and more.” Rome forked the last bite, dragged it through the last of the beurre blanc and offered it over.
He opened right up, grateful to Rome for this gift. Knowing it was the last bite, he savored every bit of it, taking his time.
Rome’s gaze was like a caress, the man watching him the entire time.
“Should… should I feed you some?” he whispered.
“Would you like to feed your Daddy, boy?” Rome asked. “I think the next dish is calamari rings, which are made for feeding with fingers.”
Rome opened the container, revealing that it was indeed calamari rings. Fillion reached over, pulled the first ring out, dipped it in the creamy sauce that was included, then fed it to Rome without answering.
Rome hummed while he chewed, then licked his lips once he was done. “I do love the crunchy outside and tender inside combo.”
He decided then and there to feed them all to Rome. That was the best feeling.
Before he could grab another one, though, Rome picked one up and dunked it before holding it up to his lips. “You have to try them.”
He opened up, without a single hesitation, because Rome had said so. Rome’s fingers lingered on his lips once he was fed the bite, and it was far sexier than he would have thought.
“It’s yummy,” he groaned, and if he wasn’t talking about the food, that was cool.
“So yummy.” Rome fed him another piece of calamari and it was only as he was chewing that he realized he still hadn’t fed Rome a second piece.
“I’m sorry, Daddy! It’s for—” Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
