“Were you going to sneak out like a lover after a bad one-night stand?”
Darren’s hand clenches into the armrest as the wheelchair jolts to a halt. “Jay.” His head is thrown backward, hitting the headrest with a thump. “You’re already… awake?” By a jerk of Darren’s hand, the wheelchair turns around, rubber wheels squeaking on the smooth floor of the corridor.
Over his demonstratively folded arms, Jay grins at Darren and leans back against the doorjamb to the kitchen out of which he appeared when he’d heard the distinct humming sound of Darren’s wheelchair exiting the living room. “I wasn’t lying when I said I had training today.”
“Huh.” Darren cocks his head and it looks a little as if he would’ve liked to scratch it. His good hand is busy cramping in and out of a fist, though. “Well…” With apparent effort, Darren directs his head to face Jay again, the muscles in his neck thick and spasming. Somehow, he still manages to look sheepish. “I have an appointment. So…”
A beam spreads over Jay’s face. “You’re lucky. I’ve already started preparing breakfast. It’ll be finished quickly.” Bobbing on the balls of his feet in anticipation, Jay watches Darren.
Darren snorts, a quick smirk flickering over his face. “What a coincidence,” he mumbles but doesn’t exactly object. He’s still wearing the clothes he has slept in, the same that he’d worn yesterday. Last night, Jay offered to lend him one of his larger shirts to sleep in but Darren hadn’t taken him up on it. Maybe he’d doubted Jay owned any shirts that would fit him, or maybe he’d just been too tired to change. The latter seems more likely, Jay thinks.
“You won’t regret it,” Jay promises and disappears into the kitchen again because he’s afraid the toasts will burn if he doesn’t turn them now. He dearly hopes though that Darren will stay a little longer.
Jay hears Darren’s sigh but after a moment’s hesitation, the wheelchair’s hum follows Jay into the kitchen. Jay’s kitchen is small but he has moved the table to one side and removed all chairs except for one, so Darren’s power chair can fit in more easily. Darren notices the arrangement and nods at Jay in appreciation. “Can I help you with something?” he asks, watching Jay work at the stove.
Without putting the pan out of his hand, Jay throws a glance back over his shoulder. “Uh… I got plates and cutlery over there,” he says and points with his chin to the counter. “If you could put them on the table?”
“Sure.” With a slight tip of his hand on the joystick, Darren aligns the wheelchair with the counter and reaches out to get a hold of the plates with knife and fork lying on top. Carefully, he places them down in his lap to transport them to the table, the china rattling slightly with the movement of the wheelchair and the tremors in his legs. Jay wasn’t sure he’d be able to fulfil this task and now he’s kind of glad he didn’t just tell him to sit and wait.
“It doesn’t count as sneaking out if you haven’t had sex, I think,” Darren says while he maneuvers one plate after the other from his lap to the table, grabbing each one around the edge very tightly, apparently concerned about dropping them.
Jay almost lets the spatula fall into the pan and fakes a cough. “What?”
“Well…” Jay can hear Darren’s chuckle. It’s a little subdued because he’s still occupied with handling the plates. “I’m not your lover and this was no one-night stand… So….”
Jay is still reeling a little from shock. Truth be told, Darren’s talk about anal sex had cut Jay’s night even shorter. He had spent hours lying awake in his bedroom, knowing Darren was just on the other side on the wall, on the couch, well asleep by the sound of it. Jay hadn’t managed to jack off faster than the fresh images of Darren popped into his mind: Darren’s face contorted with spasms, breathing heavy, as he had when Jay had helped him up the step to their table. His quivering body moving eagerly against Jay’s, both their cocks rock hard and leaking between them. Jay had imagined how Darren’s left hand would feel on him, his strokes rough, his eyes almost closed in concentration as he brought Jay close. He had felt Darren’s right arm spasming against his back, the muscles quiver and strain. Jay had wondered how it would be to climb on top of Darren, feel his writhing body between his legs, and beg Darren to—
“Ah, what? Oh!” Jay flips over the toast before it gets charred, but it’s grown already much darker than he prefers. “Shit,” he mumbles to himself. Louder, he says: “Well, you were the one too tired to reach your bed on your own, yesterday.”
This is true. Darren was so spent from the long day, he had expressed already on the doorstep to Jay’s apartment that he wasn’t up to anything else but sleeping. It had been disappointing to Jay, but it was also painfully apparent that Darren was a good as about to slide out of his wheelchair’s seat, his body rapidly losing against gravity, his back held straight only by sheer willpower, so he didn’t try to convince him otherwise. Not much later, Jay had to help him transfer from the wheelchair to the couch, the task being made even more difficult for Darren by the fact that the extended couch was a little lower than usual seating height.
Jay had just prayed Darren wouldn’t notice the new awakening of his cock.
Before Darren can retort, Jay swings the pan from the stove and announces: “Toast is ready!” He balances the large pan with several pieces of crispy-brown French toast over to the table onto which Darren has managed to place plates and cutlery, although the knifes and forks are nowhere near aligned. “And there’s maple syrup, of course, and butter…” Jay dances back and forth between the fridge and the table, making Darren’s head spin with the speed he’s handling things. “Oh, and I made us coffee. You do drink coffee, do you?” Jay stops in his tracks in the middle of the kitchen, with two cups of coffee in his hands, almost spilling some on the floor. He could slap himself for forgetting to ask.
“Uh…” Darren stares at Jay for a few seconds, then frowns. “No, I can’t. You know… CP and coffee… Doesn’t mix.”
Jay’s face falls. “Oh. I didn’t know. Shit. I…” He turns around to place both cups on the counter. “I’m sorry, no coffee then.” He sits finally down on the one chair left at the table, looking at Darren, face flushed and smiling apologetically.
Darren contuse staring at him, then he chuckles. “Jay. Of course I drink coffee, what did you think?” He rolls his eyes, the sides of his mouth twitching with more suppressed laughter.
Jay’s smile dies. “You…” He leans forward and blinks with his mouth opening and closing a few times. “You do?”
“Yes…” Darren grins, rubbing his face and leaning back, sighing. “Now… for god’s sake, get me my cup. And please drink as much as you want, whatever it is, all right?” There’s an added emphasis on the last part, and Jay blushes and jumps up from his seat again to collect their cups.
“Sorry,” he mumbles and puts Darren’s cup within his reach. “French toast? Or is that something you can’t do, either?” Jay’s grin is only slightly shaky. He did make a fool out of himself, didn’t he?
“Yes, please.” Two pieces of toast land on each plate and Darren seems to take in their perfect shape and color for a second before saying. “And if you could cut up mine, that’d be appreciated.”
With his hand hovering over the table, Jay hesitates a second, not sure he’s being made fun of again, and only when Darren sighs and shifts, waving his useless right hand a little, does he actually grab his own cutlery and goes to cut up Darren’s toast.
“Thanks.” It’s like Darren makes sure he’s looking into Jay’s eyes at that, almost apologetic, then picks up the fork in his left fist to poke at a piece. He chews and swallows. “Oh it’s…”
“Is it all right?” Jay asks, eyeing him across the table.
Darren hesitates for a split second, shaking his head, then looking up at Jay again, smiling genuinely. “Pretty good, in fact.”
It’s as if someone turned up the volume on Jay’s smile, it’s growing wider and bright, he just can’t help it. He sits up straighter. “Wait until you’ve had some with maple syrup.” He unscrews the bottle and offers it halfway over the table. “Would you like to or may I…?”
With a grunt, Darren nods at his own plate, hand still occupied, and Jay pours a healthy amount of maple syrup over both their plates. For a while there’s only happy munching sounds and cutlery clinking against china to be heard in the kitchen as both tuck in.
“What’s your appointment?” It’s Jay’s attempt at making light conversation but judging from the guarded expression that crosses Darren’s face, it failed.
“Physical therapy,” Darren mumbles in between bites.
“Ah. Hm…” Jay wonders what Darren is up to in physical therapy because he has no idea. It’s not like Darren hurt his knee and needs to regain function or something, isn’t it? Jay is trying to formulate a question that doesn’t sound too dumb, when Darren interrupts his thoughts.
“What kind of training do you have today, by the way? I… Um… never actually caught it. Do you play… uh, soccer?”
It’s obvious Darren is trying to deflect from himself but still Jay is glad he’s taking an interest. “No, not soccer.” Jay smirks. “It’s formation dance.”
Darren’s fork in his hands stills halfway up to his mouth. “What?”
Jay chuckles. “Like… Latin? Cha Cha… Rumba, Jive, Paso Doble, Samba.”
“All of it?” Darren shakes his head like a wet dog.
“All of it,” Jay confirms, grinning slightly.
“And with a… partner?”
“Yep…” Jay puts the last pieces of toast on their plates and reaches over to cut Darren’s. “But in a big group. Like… line dance. Sort of. Not exactly though.” He shrugs. Jay is sure he would get killed by his team mates if they overheard him say that formation dance was like line dance.
“Wow…” Darren lowers his fork and leans back. He considers Jay for a long moment. “This is…”
“Huh?” Nonchalantly, Jay dunks his toast in maple syrup.
“Unexpected,” Darren concludes. “And… a little gay, if I may say,” he adds, his eyebrows lifted.
Jay smirks and nods. “Oh yes.” He’s pretty sure that apart from him there aren’t many not gay guys in the dance group, despite the fact that their dancing partners are women, and smoking hot at that. It actually makes things easier for the guys, though, Jay thinks. It never ended well whenever Jay started dating one of the women he was dancing with. One way or the other, it always ended with one of them leaving the company.
“Do you perform shows or something?”
Jay nods. “That’s kind of the whole point of it, isn’t it?” He looks back at his plate. "I didn't for years, but I kind of got back into it lately."
Darren’s fork clatters to the plate. “Shit… Uh… Could you tell me what time it is?”
“Oh, sorry…” Jay checks his phone. “It’s 8:15.”
“Damn. Got to hurry,” Darren is already maneuvering the wheelchair out of the confines of the kitchen, steering backward, navigating the route to the door from memory.
“Do you need—” Jay hurries after him, waving one hand toward the restrooms. Yesterday he cut a plastic bottle in half for Darren to relieve himself in. Darren had done his business and Jay had dumped the result in the toilet. It had been awkward, but at least then they’d had alcohol and exhaustion to take the edge off it.
“Nah…” Darren makes sure his backpack is still attached to the wheelchair. “I’ll use the accessible restrooms in the station.”
He would never admit to it and he carefully schools his face to remain neutral, but Jay is a little relieved hearing that. “Oh okay… Do you need anything else?” But one look at Darren tells him that Darren is ready. He didn’t sleep in his shoes, Jay knows that much for sure because he helped him taken them off, but Darren somehow managed to pull them back on. They were tied loose enough to slip them off without untying them, so that’s answering one of Jay’s questions.
“See you then, huh?”
“Darren, wait.” Darren is almost across the threshold and because the space between the doorjambs is too small to turn the wheelchair around, he doesn’t stop and only turns around to Jay when he’s already in the corridor outside of the apartment. “What?”
“Um… I um… I don’t know how you feel about it. The last days were a little— I wasn’t very…” Jay kneads his hands. Where are the words? He had made up a speech in his head the second half of the night, with his finally satisfied cock lying soft beneath the covers, burning slightly, oversensitive. “I liked what we had yesterday.” He looks at Darren intently, praying he’ll get his meaning. “And I know you’re busy and everything so I understand if you wouldn’t… If you didn’t want to… But. Um. But if you wanted to—”
“W-what?” Jay looks up from where he studied his shoes, feeling the tops of his ears heat.
Darren smirks slightly. “We can meet more often.”
And that’s all it takes.
They settle on meeting next Friday and with that Darren is off, leaving a dizzy and excited Jay behind. The news need a few minutes to really sink in but then Jay feels his chest expand with happiness and for the rest of the day he can’t stop grinning.