Chapter 1

Chapter 1

His date was late.

James was seated at La Chance in his best dress shirt and shoes. He’d thought jeans would give him a casual vibe for tonight, but he was coming to regret that choice as he gazed upon the other patrons at the restaurant. Dressed in long, elegant evening gowns and sharp suits, James had half a mind to return home. Even the receptionist had pursed her lips as she secretly gave him a once over.

The restaurant was fancy, and James admittedly had not googled it for appropriate dress. He’d been so nervous about the date itself; conversation topics and awkward silences, and making sure his brother would be okay for the evening, that he’d forgotten to fuss over one of the most important things- first impressions and all. But it seemed not to have even mattered since his date was late, he was left shifting his focus from the empty seat in front of him, the door, and his phone for about 30 minutes. So, as far as first impressions went, James would say he’s got a point, seeing as he showed up on time.

La Chance was a beautiful place. It was a historic building with grand stone archways and floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was bathed in soft golden light from both modern lighting fixtures and areas on the walls resembling sconces, adding to the historical feel. Art pieces adorned the walls, complementing the modern furniture, a blend of dark wood, marble, and plush velvet seating in deep jewel tones. At each table, the finest linens drape, accented by the ceramic plates and polished silverware catching the light. There were hushed murmurs and quiet conversation all around as waiters, dressed immaculately in black and white, wove around gracefully adding to the air of sophistication and luxury. Soft music drifted all around the space from the band to the side, weaving with the additional sounds of the restaurant creating a comforting space. It made it seem like this was more than a place to share a meal.

He hadn’t chosen the restaurant, his date had. In his own words, his date had said, ‘I’ll take care of everything’. It was a near thing for James to be dropped off by his date’s chauffeur, but James insisted he’d handle his transportation. Looking back, he wasn’t sure why. He’d showed up, and given his date’s name to the receptionist for the reservation, who had directed him to an alcove where their table was, enclosed in a small space, giving it an intimate feel. James had assumed his date had already arrived and had thought it’d only take a short time before he did.

James wasn’t sure what he expected though. It was a blind date, his friend Maria had talked to a friend of a friend who knew a guy whose cousin was also single and queer, and hey! So, here he was, ten more minutes, and still a no-show. James was starting to wonder whether he’d been stood up. He shouldn’t have listened to Maria, shouldn’t have given in to the needling and whining; It might be fun, he might be your soulmate, aren’t you tired of being single, we could go on double dates, and so on.

His focus once again moved to his phone, looking through the texts he’d had with his date to see if he’d missed anything. They hadn’t talked much, just short introductions and talk about where and when to set the date.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.”

James looked up.

He was a handsome man. Deep chocolate skin, dark brown eyes that seemed almost black, square jaw sporting a beard and moustache. His hair was cut into a fade, the hair at the top of his head longer with curls that looked firm and bouncy. He was taking off his overcoat and draping it over his chair, revealing his navy suit, which was well-pressed and fitting, over his broad frame. The top buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned. The sleek watch on his wrist glinted in the light. He popped the button to his suit jacket before sitting down, leaning forward slightly to adjust his chair under the table, allowing James to get a whiff of his cologne, something woody, maybe cedar. The action also allowed James to see down his chest from the little sliver in his shirt, revealing smooth, hairless skin. The golden light bounced off his skin giving him a warm glow. He smiled, exposing pearl-white teeth, and a dimple appeared on his left cheek, as well as small smile lines on the corners of his mouth. His cheeks bunched up with his smile and his eyes squinted slightly, seeming like a glittering pool of water in the dark of night with only the light of the moon in the sky.

He was a handsome man.

A very handsome man.

James’ heart skipped a beat.

“I got caught up at work. A meeting ran overtime and held everyone up. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. I honestly wouldn’t have faulted you for leaving anyway.” His voice was deep. James was sure he’d feel the vibrations reverberating if he laid his hand on his chest as he spoke.

His date was speaking but James was having a hard time following. His mind was on a continuous loop of handsome, hot, sexy, his eyes once again roving all over the man.

“Are you all right?” That accompanied by the concerned look from the man snapped him out of it. James cleared his throat, realizing how dry it had got, and horrifically, his mouth was open. It probably explained how dry his mouth was. He lifts a hand to his mouth, subtly trying to check for drooling.

Please let there be no drooling.

He clears his throat, “I’m fine,” reaches for the glass of water at his side served to him when he’d got here, and takes a sip.

He clears his throat again. A waiter comes over and hands them menus.

“Ah, where are my manners,” the man across from him mumbles, “I’m Thomas.” He stretches his hand over the table for a handshake. James already knew this but he shakes his hand anyway. “James.” And his smile once again makes an appearance. James curls his lips over his teeth to make sure his mouth doesn’t drop open once again.

“Again, I’m sorry I’m late.”

James nods, his mental faculties seem to be up and running again. “I understand. I barely managed to get out of work myself.”

“Really? What held you up?”

“Oh, just the usual stubborn client. He didn’t want to leave without a thorough explanation of some product and the ingredients.”

“What do you do?”

“I work at a bakery. It’s not a huge role or anything. I just man the register and sometimes I help in the kitchen,” James shrugs.

“Wow. I’ve always been horrible at baking.” Thomas pauses a bit, “Actually no, all my efforts in the kitchen have ended up with unpalatable creations at best or trips to the hospital at worst.” Thomas nods sagely.

“Hospital? And trips? As in multiple?” James asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Well, you know, when a raccoon wanders into your kitchen things are bound to happen,” he shrugs, and what he says is so unexpected James can’t help but laugh. Thomas smiles in response.

“A raccoon? I need the full story.”

“Let’s order first, it’s a long one. Do you know what you want to order?”

James didn’t, and he voices it out. The thing with these fancy places was the complicated names on the food and the weird blends on them. He wasn’t trying to hate on the chef’s craft but how did chocolate on tuna sound appetizing? Even with the listings of what the dish comprised of besides the dish name, he wasn’t sure what to pick to guarantee a good and safe meal.

Thomas chuckles, “Neither do I. I kind of want to pick the most outrageously sounding and looking thing off here.”

James glances up at him, “Why would you do that?’”

Thomas shrugs, “Just to say I have. And for the experience of it.”

“What if you get food poisoning?”

“Then it’d have been a learning experience.”

“Or you find out you’re allergic to something.”

“Then it’d have been a learning experience.”

“What if you don’t like it?”

Thomas looks up from the menu, a smile on his lips. James rolls his eyes, and mumbles along with Thomas, “Then it’d have been a learning experience.” They both laugh and then go back to looking through the menu.

“If yours is bad, I won’t give you some of mine.” James jokes, already having something in mind. Steak seems safe enough.

Thomas snorts, “And if mine is better, I won’t share it with you.”

James rolls his eyes once again. He tells Thomas he’s ready to order and Thomas signals a waiter. Thomas’ order is indeed ridiculous sounding and James hides a smile behind his glass as he takes a sip of water.

“Now,” Thomas claps softly, mindful of the others around him, “I believe I owe you a story.”

He begins telling James of the ‘raccoon incident of ’06’, as he calls it. He goes on about the raccoon entering his parent’s house through the open back door, how no one suspected a thing till it was in one of the cupboards munching on their cereal, and how chaos ensued soon afterward.

James is left clutching at his side as the story reaches the climax. Thomas is gesticulating wildly and even goes as far as mimicking the facial expressions his family makes throughout the story. James tries to gasp lungfuls of air but fails miserably. “I can’t breathe,” He tries to wheeze.

Thomas is a good storyteller. More than that he’s a charming person, and James can’t help but be drawn to him, to his light. He smiles widely and brightly. His eyes glitter and James is once again caught up in his beauty. Talking to him is easy. James had thought the conversation would have been strained but they’re able to bounce off topics effortlessly. Thomas mostly does the talking, which he doesn’t mind. James sometimes adds in with stories of his own and Thomas listens with rapt attention, asking questions, and James even manages to make Thomas laugh a few times. He’s proud of those moments. He’s perfectly content to let Thomas steer the conversation too.

The food is good and the wine Thomas ordered for them is nice. It’s sweet and James has had three glasses already. James’ steak is cooked perfectly and Thomas’ food is, surprisingly or not, better. James doesn’t believe him when Thomas enthusiastically nods and hums after a bite. Though he takes it back when he gets a taste of it. Thomas feeds him off his spoon. He presents the spoonful in front of him, waiting quietly. James realizes what Thomas intends him to do and, flushing slightly, leans forward. His eyes track James’ every movement as he opens his mouth, chews, and swallows. The gaze travels down his throat and lingers there, it makes him feel hotter, he’s sure his ears are as red as his cheeks.

He shares his food too, even if he said he wouldn’t, and places a portion of it on James’ plate. James had offered his steak but Thomas had declined.

They order dessert; a chocolate mousse for James and vanilla ice cream for Thomas. They both exchange bites of each, of their spoons. It makes James smile a small smile every time.

“I never asked what you do,” James says, nursing his fourth (sixth?) glass of wine. There are fewer patrons in the restaurant. James doesn’t know how long they’ve talked but he doesn’t feel the need to cut it short.

“Oh, it’s a family business. My sister and I took over from my dad three years ago,” Thomas says, his elbow on the table, supporting his head as he rests his chin in his palm. He swirls his glass of wine with his free hand.

James looks at him for a short while before he giggles, “You still haven’t told me what you do.”

Thomas hums, smiling, “I run his company. Well, my sister does. She’s CEO, while I’m COO.”

“Hmm, isn’t that like, nepotism?”

Thomas laughs, “It is, but my sister deserves the position. She’s perfect for it and we’ve always been clear that we won’t do anything to undermine the company and its values, so I think the board is … on board,” they both laugh at this, “with it.”

“You said your sister deserves it; you don’t feel like you do?” James asks before he takes a sip of his wine.

It’s a while before he answers. Then he shrugs, “I don’t particularly love it. Not that I hate what I do,” he rushes to say, “I just don’t care for it. Like my sister does. She’s totally passionate about it and I…” he shrugs again.

James nods, “Would you prefer doing something else?”

Thomas is quiet again before he slowly shakes his head, “No. I don’t think I would. If I didn’t have this job, I don’t know what I’d have done with my life. Sometimes I’m grateful for my dad setting my life up for me, and sometimes… I wonder what would have become of my life if I had done more in my childhood maybe to figure out what I liked. Enough to pursue a career out of it. I mean, my dad didn’t force me and I like what I do enough but…”

He doesn’t seem sad about it but James still reaches over and places his hand on Thomas, the one holding the glass. Thomas looks at him and smiles. It’s close-lipped but his eyes crinkle the same, and James' stomach clenches with the way the butterflies in his tummy flutter wildly. He lets go of the glass and laces their fingers together. James’ heart trips at the action. He smiles into his shoulder.

“What about you?” Thomas asks, “Would you want to do something else?”

James thinks about it. He doesn’t not like his job but he doesn’t love it, at least the part when he’s at the register. It’s a way to pay the bills. But he’s always had an interest in baking and when he encountered this job, he felt it was a good way to do both; pay the bills and keep up with his interests without having had gone to school for it.

“No,” he says, then tells Thomas the reasoning behind it. He adds, “We weren’t well off, I mean we’re doing okay now, but before we weren’t. So, my parents wanted to invest in something guaranteed for school for my brother and me, so I did business management and he’s doing engineering. He actually likes it, but I didn’t. I finished it though, but I didn’t get a job for a while. Then my dad was laid off then he got sick so I felt I had to help my mom out. Then I found the job I have now, and my mom got another job. My dad got better and found another job but I just never left. They insist I should but I don’t not enjoy what I do, maybe not particularly like some parts of it but… yeah. I don’t fault them for their choices but the freedom of choice would have been nice, you know” He shrugs at the end.

Thomas nods then squeezes his hand. “I’m glad your dad’s better.”

“Thanks.”

“And I’m sorry you weren’t able to do what you wanted or were interested in.”

James smiles and nods.

“Would you consider going to school for it? Baking?”

“Yes,” he doesn’t have to think about that one, “I’m planning on starting next year.”

“Really? Do your parents know?”

“Yeah, They’re the ones who brought it up actually. I’m going to a school one of the bakers at the shop recommended.” He chuckles slightly, “They say they’ll keep a spot open for me on the line so that I can join them when I’m done.” He smiles at the memory of Jane, the head baker, fervently promising not to hire anyone else even if the shop was crumbling around them and the only way to save it was to hire another baker. He’d said she was being dramatic and that she was free to hire anyone if she needed to.

“And I will. When you're done with school you come right back, because we’ll need you here,” she’d ordered.

“They must love you over there,” Thomas remarks. James doesn’t know what to say to that so he just smiles and shrugs, feeling his cheeks go hot.

“Do you bake? When you’re home?”

“Yeah, my favourite to make is a souffra. Specifically lemon and blueberry flavoured. I got it off the internet a few years ago and I make it a lot.” He clears his throat, “I could make you one if you’d like.”

Thomas seems surprised by the offer; with the way his eyebrows rise. James thinks he’s overstepped some boundary or something and rushes to apologize but Thomas speaks first. “I would like that,” he says softly, attempting to soothe the panicked look off James’ face, and it does work. James breathes out, relieved he hasn’t ruined his chances of seeing Thomas again by making presumptuous comments. And he’s glad because he does want to see Thomas again. The date had surpassed his expectations for a blind date. This is by far the best date he’s ever had.

Thomas smiles again. He shakes his head as he looks away, the smile still on his face.

“What?” James asks, tilting his head to try and catch Thomas’ gaze. Thomas laughs a little, disbelieving, “I didn’t expect to have enjoyed myself this much considering this was a blind date. I’ve had a great time.”

James is delighted that the feeling is mutual, “Me too.” Then he voices his thoughts, “This is the best date I’ve been on.” He giggles a little then, and Thomas has an odd look on his face, but it gives way to another smile. James feels like he’s been spoiled with how many beautiful smiles he’s borne witness to tonight.

They lapse into silence. It’s not awkward and no one feels the need to fill it, content to just hold hands, occasionally catching the other’s gaze. It seemed they had said all they needed to, and they were okay with it. The evening had laid a foundation and every encounter they’d have after then would add to it, creating something beautiful.

The moment passes. Thomas signals a waiter and pays the bill. They get up and James belatedly remembers his jeans but Thomas doesn’t seem to care. They leave the restaurant after collecting their things, hand in hand. It’s cold outside, so Thomas drapes his overcoat over James’ shoulders even though James doesn’t comment on the cold. They wait for a while after Thomas calls his driver to pick them up.

“I’d like to see you again,” Thomas says.

“I’d like that too. We could go to the park? Or the movies? Tomorrow?” James asks, unsure if that’s too soon.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Thomas asks. James shakes his head.

“We’ll do both. The movies first, then a walk in the park after. An evening walk. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll pick you up at three.”

The car arrives. Thomas opens the door for James and then gets in after him. They spend the ride to James' apartment complex talking a bit more, asking the conventional first date questions. What’s your favourite colour? (Blue for Thomas, none for James) Do you have pets? (No for both but James used to have a cat that died when he was younger) What’s your favourite food (None for Thomas, James has too many to count) What kind of movies do you like? (Any movie that’s good for Thomas, Anything that’s not sad for James)

They arrive and Thomas gets out of the car first, offering his hand to James and assisting him out of the car. James had lost count of the number of times he’d been flustered by Thomas that night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” James says, looking up at Thomas. He’s taller than James but not by that much, maybe three inches. It’s still significant enough for James to reach up on his tiptoes to press a kiss on Thomas’s cheek. Thomas in turn presses a kiss on James’ forehead. He swipes his thumb over James’ right cheek, under his eye, his gaze soft, and the streetlights make his eyes glitter. The air around them seems to have disappeared, sounds muted as James looks up at him. His eyes slide over to Thomas’ lips. They’re gorgeous, and James has never described lips as gorgeous but Thomas’ are. They’re two-toned, his upper lip brown and his bottom lip a soft pink and James wonders what he tastes like. If he tastes as good as he looks, maybe better? And he feels drawn towards him, Thomas the sun to his earth with the way he’s being pulled in. He doesn’t register the steps he takes to move closer to the sun, nor the way he leans towards it. All he feels is the inevitable warmth that fills him and the light that shines behind his eyelids when he makes contact.

Soft. They’re so soft as they move over his. For a few short moments, they press against each other chastely over and over but it’s enough to make a small sound leave James, a sigh. Thomas groans then, taking firm hold of his face between his hands before he kisses him more firmly. Their tongues meet and James holds onto Thomas’s suit jacket over his biceps. He tastes like the wine they had that evening, and something more, something better.

It’s like a supernova. It goes off in his chest, his stomach, his head. He feels the effects from his head to his toes. Warmth. He feels tingly all over, from where Thomas is holding him especially, and if it weren’t for that he’d surely have floated away from the feeling of being kissed by him.

Thomas tilts his head, effectively deepening their kiss, and his hand leaves his face to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. James’ hands move to the back of Thomas’ head, one hand holding onto the nape of his neck the other finding purchase in the space between his neck and shoulder, tightening his hold. He moves higher on his tiptoes to try to get closer. It seems that’s what they’re trying to do; their pursuit to diminish any space between them.

He presses Thomas’s head towards him more and Thomas bends forward by the waist, making James bend backward, causing Thomas to take more of his weight, which he does effortlessly.

The need to breathe causes both of them to part, breathing rugged. But James can’t stand to be parted long and surges forward to kiss Thomas again. Thomas makes a sound in the back of his throat and James does feel the vibration run through him, making him clutch tighter at Thomas. Thomas’s hand drifts from his waist to his ass, squeezing firmly, and it makes James groan into his mouth.

They break apart once again, panting into each other’s mouths. “Fuck,” whispers Thomas. He presses one more kiss to James’ mouth before he steps away. He doesn’t go far, still keeping his hold on James. James swallows and looks up at Thomas.

His lips are glistening from their kiss. His eyes are hooded. His harsh breaths are evening out, much like James. Thomas’ hand moves from his cheek to his hair, finger toying with a curl by his ear. He looks at James in wonder before he whispers, “You are so beautiful.” James’ ears go hot.

“You are too,” he says just as quietly, then he kisses Thomas again, a peck.

He wonders what they look like, standing close to each other by the entrance to the apartment complex. They probably gave the tenants and Thomas’ driver a show. Usually, James would care, but now, with how close Thomas is, he can’t seem to. He smells so good, intoxicating, and James nuzzles into his neck to get more of him. He feels rather than hears Thomas chuckle. “And cute,” Thomas adds, placing a kiss on his head, before wrapping his arms around James firmly.

They part from their hug shortly after.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Thomas tells him.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

James nearly chokes on his next breath at the pet name. He drops his head onto Thomas’ shoulder, hiding his face, which is surely permanently flushed. He straightens when Thomas laughs, tells him, “Goodnight,” and then detaches himself from his arms. He goes to take off the overcoat to hand it back to Thomas but he places his hand on his, stopping him.

“Keep it.”

James nods, “Okay.”

He slowly backs away from him, hesitant to look away, before he ultimately has to or risk tripping over the steps, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing? He waves once he’s at the door before he opens it and gets in. He walks on clouds the entire way to his apartment.

He gets the door open, then closed, and then he just leans against it.

“So, I take it the date went well,” his brother says from the couch, eyeing him.

“Better than I could have ever imagined.”