Geb sat behind the counter in his kitchen. With his elbows on the surface he watched Robin moving to and fro as he gathered the ingredients for the omelette. More than a week passed since Robin had confided his story and that "I love you" had escaped Geb, and it seemed that that had been a catharsis for both of them. Robin opened up, he no longer had stomach problems and Geb, well, he enjoyed spending every minute being as lovey-dovey as he was able to be. And sometimes, like now, he felt the urge to wrap his arms around Robin and keep him in his embrace forever, so that nobody else would be able to put his hands on Robin and hurt him like that ex of his did. Not that Robin needed protection like that; Robin told him that after he had come to England, he had started to train in boxing and he was still training, twice a week in the gym. No wonder he was toned as he was. Geb licked his lips.
"Where do you keep pans?" Robin closed the cabinet above the sink.
"There." Geb pointed at the low cabinet three down and to left of the sink, beside the stove. "You do know that I'm not hungry."
"Who said that I'm doing it for you?" Robin pulled out a pan, closed the cabinet and put the pan on the stove. He turned on the stove and put butter into the pan.
"You did. You said, 'I'm going to make you one of my famously good omelettes,' before you rushed into the kitchen and rummaged through my cabinets, and even had the audacity to complain over my healthy cocoa butter."
Robin who was just about to pour the omelette batter into the pan, froze. "Do you mind me making myself so at home? Am I allowing myself too much?"
"Of course not, stupid." Geb stood up, went around the counter and wrapped his arm around Robin's middle, his chest against Robin's back. "When I said 'make yourself at home,' I meant it." He leaned his chin or Robin's shoulder. "And I hope to see you jumping around my kitchen often, preferably in the apron and naked beneath it."
"Do you even have an apron?" Robin poured the batter into the pan.
"Of course. A really nice one." Geb reached out and reduced the heat of the stove. "But you are only allowed to use it naked."
"Would you like for me to get naked now?"
"You better not." Geb rubbed Robin's belly. "Not if you want to continue cooking."
"I will get naked after we eat then." Robin took the spatula and pushed it under the omelette, to turn it.
"I'm looking forward to it." Geb slid his hand lower, his fingers playing with the metal buckle of Robin's belt and he thought about licking and nibbling the spot behind Robin's ear, but he decided against it, knowing that if he did, things could quickly get out of control.
Geb's phone started to vibrate at the end of the counter and then the first note of a ringtone sounded in the room and a voice joined in: "I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known, don't know where it goes, but it's home to me and I walk alone…"
Geb unwound his arms from Robin and stepped toward the phone. Why was Green Day's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" playing -- he looked at the caller ID -- for Marshall's call?
Oh, yeah, Marshall had fumbled with his phone the other day. He shook his head. Marshall and his: 'Caller ID Ringtone should have some meaning'. But Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, even though it was more to his taste than Marshall's previous one, "I'm So Excited," was a little too much. "It's Marshall," he told Robin, before he opened the phone. "Hey, you have been playing with my phone again. Should the "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" mean anything to me?"
On the other side of the line Marshall giggled. "Isn't it obvious? You crushed my dreams."
"Oh, Marshall." Geb frowned.
"I don't mean it like that. Don't worry," Marshall said. "I just like to provoke you, you know how I am."
"That's a relief." Geb smiled. He couldn't hear any grudge hidden under the surface of Marshall's voice and somehow it seemed that that little burden of guilt still lingering on his shoulder dissipated into thin air. "What's up?"
"I'm bored. Do you want to go out? There's this new nightclub opening, do you want to check it out?"
"I would love to, but not tonight, Marshall. I have company." Geb looked at Robin who pretended to be busy with putting the omelette onto two plates.
"Robin?"
"Yeah."
"Have fun then. And tell Robin I said hi."
"Will do. Hey." Geb moved aside so that Robin, carrying plates, could pass him.
"What?"
"Do you want to go tomorrow?" Geb went around the counter; in passing he grabbed two forks from the drawer opposite to the stove, then followed Robin toward the breakfast corner.
"I would love to." Marshall said. "Will Robin be coming too?"
"I'll ask him. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?" Geb sat down.
"Sure. Bye."
"Bye." Geb closed the phone, put it beside the plate and picked up the fork. "Hey, do you want to go with Marshall and me to the new club tomorrow?"
"I don't know. Wouldn't I be in the way?" Robin said, his voice slightly wavering. "I mean, you and Marshall... You two seem so close. I know that you said that you are not fucking him anymore, that I'm the only one, but… A lot of times when you two are together, you have such a long history, I feel like an intruder."
Geb put down the fork, reached out and wrapped his fingers around Robin's hand. "Babe, I love you. I never said that to anybody before. And me and Marshall, we have a history, but with time you and I will have one too. Of course, only if you want to?"
"Of course I want to. I lo- I care for you deeply."
The corner of Geb's mouth turned upwards, his whole face lighting up. Robin loved him? So soon? He thought he would at least need a couple of weeks or even months, not days. Not that this was bad -- no, no, this wasn't bad at all. It gave him a high like he was on drugs and he just wanted to jump on Robin and ravish him.
"But Marshall…"
Geb raised his brows.
"But Marshall, he means a lot to you. You said that he's special to you..."
"He is. He's very special." Geb squeezed Robin's hand, then released it. He didn't know what this was: Robin's insecurity or jealousy. Probably a mixture of both. "Without him I would probably be still pretending that I'm straight, would probably be married and with two kids and hating every damn minute of it."
Robin blinked. "You are joking."
"No. You probably heard about my grandmother, Helen?" After Robin nodded, Geb continued. "She comes from this strict Catholic Italian family, a really narrow-minded one, and I didn't know how to tell her that I was gay. I knew that my parents would support me no matter what, but since Helen was always the person I admired the most, I wanted her support too. I need it, never expecting to get it. You should hear how she spoke about gays before. She was really nasty and her head filled with prejudices from people who preach about justice and morality, but fuck altar boys behind locked doors." He ran his fingers through his hair. "So, yeah, I was afraid of hearing her say those nasty things about me, afraid that she would hate me." His gaze got lost in the distance. "And then I met Marshall, cute little Marshall, who was always harassed, if not by dirty old men, then by homophobes, but that didn't stop him from being who he was. He held his head high and didn't hide it. He was always such a brave little thing. And I said to myself, 'If he can do it, I can do it too.'"
"Oh. So that kind of special." Robin said. "I thought… I thought -- I don't know…"
"Whatever." Geb patted Robin's head and grabbed a fork. "Now eat. The sooner you finish, the sooner I will see you naked."
Robin chuckled. "Is that all you can think of?"
"Of course." Geb nodded. But it had turned out to be a lie, because after they finished eating and washed the dishes, Geb remembered that there was a new episode of CSI Las Vegas playing on TV and since both he and Robin liked that show, they watched it together. Only after that did Geb get Robin naked and into his bed. And he didn't waste any time before he was between Robin's spread legs, with his mouth around Robin's dick and his fingers deep in Robin's ass, working Robin like an instrument. All those moans and groans, Geb knew exactly where to touch, where to push, where to lick and where to nibble and god, to make those sounds louder, more guttural, more free. And damn, how he loved to hear Robin's pleasure.
The phone that was on the nightstand on the right side of the bed started to vibrate, followed by the "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" ringtone. Geb decided to ignore it, but when the phone was still ringing after more than a minute, Geb, still between Robin's legs, reached out and grabbed the phone.
"Geb. Leave it."
"Marshall never rings more than a few seconds. It has to be something urgent." Geb opened the phone. "Marshall?"
"Geb. I think I killed him. They are going to lock me up." Marshall's voice, wavering like he was crying greeted Geb.
Geb pulled his fingers out of Robin's ass and sat up.
It took almost fifteen minutes before he understood Marshall's rambling. Denis, Marshall's stalking ex, had sneaked into Marshall's apartment and chased Marshall around the flat until Marshall ended up cornered in the kitchen, and he had used the first thing that came in his hand. He had used a pan on Denis' head and now Denis was lying like he was dead in Marshall's kitchen. And even with an ambulance on its way, Marshall was afraid that it was too late and that the cops were going to throw him into a cell with a fat, bald guy name Cecil and he would have to spend the rest of his life being Cecil's bitch -- and Geb knew of his fear of fat, bald guys.
With Robin's blessing, Geb rushed to Marshall's place, where the ambulance was just leaving with its cargo and two young cops were helplessly trying to extract from Marshall what had happened. Geb needed less then ten minutes to explain what Marshall told him, to give the cops his contact info and get them on their way. Then he packed up a few of Marshall's things, got him out of the apartment and into his car, and drove them to his flat, trying to distract himself from Marshall's whining that he wasn't going to be Cecil's bitch by thinking about what he was going to do with Robin after he got home.