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Blood and Chocolate	By : christinecornell Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 70 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Based on my own predilections or not, this is still a work of fiction. by the way, you will get hungry reading this. Just, just just trust me on this.

Chapter List
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There was a part of me that didn’t want him to stay there with me, simply because I knew that Lou was going to come over at some point during the evening. But the next thing I knew, I was taking him home with me. We were going back to my place so we could gather a head start on the jams for those Hanukkah donut holes.
Alex rested his hand on my knee at one point: I looked over at him and those deep eyes that gazed back at me like two views into the vast rich blue sky overhead. Those long, lanky fingers crawled over the top of my thigh and towards the crotch of my jeans.
“Alex, please, I’m driving,” I quipped as we rounded the next corner. He showed me the tip of his tongue followed by those little round cheekbones with the mischievous smile on his handsome little face.
We reached the driveway of my apartment complex, and I just so happened to look down at his seatbelt and how it was right over the belt of his jeans: the way that thick, heavy canvas accentuated the little full curve over his waist.
So cute. So sweetly plump, if ever so slight.
I fetched a spot and we climbed out: the rain was upon us, but I was eager to get into the apartment anyway, because I had no idea what he was about to do next for me. I nearly dropped the keys on the sidewalk, but I caught them before I made my way up the stairs to the landing right outside of the front door.
When he walked, he walked with a slight sashay, as if he was about to take me down right then and there on the sidewalk.
I knew it had to do with all of that fruit and being around John and that video camera, especially when he caught up with me on the steps and lightly pinched my ass. When I reached the landing, I scrambled to get the key into the hole, but then he rested his hand on the seat of my pants. I unlocked the door and nearly fell ass over teakettle into the carpet before me. I caught myself right as Alex shut the door, and then he showed me his tongue, like that of a snake. He wriggled his fingers at me as if he wanted to get me.
“Damn, you’re a horn dog, right now,” I teased him.
“It was all that wonderful fruit,” he said as he rested his hands on his soft little belly. “Filled up my belly and it was akin to getting some B vitamins injected into me.”
I cleared my throat. “Speaking of the fruit, did you bring in the rest of it?”
“I thought you had it,” he confessed, and he ran his fingers through his black hair again. “Shall I get it?”
“Please—it’d be so kind of you, too,” I said as I handed him the key. He flashed me a little wink before he returned outside to the gray out there: the sky hung low over the entire valley, this menacing swirling gray soup over our heads, and I had the idea to make us something nice and warm for the evening. Something to warm up that little belly just to turn him into putty in my hands, especially after he had touched my ass not once but twice.
I took off my jacket and hung it up next to the door, and then I kicked off my shoes and made my way into the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.
There was also the matter of the sufganiyot for Hanukkah.
I could, at the very least, get started on the jam for it with the berries.
Alex made his way back into the apartment with that bag of fruit in hand, to which he kindly handed it to me. I reached behind him and lightly slapped him right on the seat of his pants. He yelped out in surprise, and his face turned bright pink as a result.
“Mmm, nice junk in the trunk, Alex,” I joked as I gave him another playful little slap on the seat of his pants. “Getting it nice and good and good and nice in there.
“If you touch my ass, you should check out my little potbelly here,” he said; he rested the side of his hand right under the roundest part of his belly to accentuate the shape.
“Pfff, potbelly,” I teased him. “It’s just a cute little roll that’s like a little cinnamon bun—you got a ways to go before you turn into a big sexy potbellied piggy.”
“Oh, yeah?” He raised his dark eyebrows at me.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He leaned in closer to me so his lips were right there, right in front of my own. He pressed his hands to his hips to show me his chest. I looked down at the rest of his body, like a long lanky lizard, albeit one with a slight little tummy on his waist.
Just something about the way it poked out over his belt like that made my lips tingle. I crouched down and moved my face closer to his belly for a kiss, but he backed away before I could do anything like that for him.
“Hey!”
“What? I can’t give you belly kisses whenever I feel like it?” I looked back up at him and the look of bewilderment on his face.
“Not when you’re cooking!” he declared.
“Oh, come on, I haven’t even started anything,” I scoffed with a roll of my eyes.
“Better get on it before this little gut starts grumbling and aching me,” he said in a singsong voice, and I stooped down for a second chance at the belly kiss but he backed away and into the kitchen doorway before I could do anything. I wagged my finger at him before he ducked back into the living room.
I then returned to the kitchen and began us a nice big platter of cheese and chili pepper enchiladas. While I let the peppers roast in the oven at first, I began work on the jam, with the rinsing of the berries and patting them down with a clean towel. Once I had the peppers roasted, I rolled them up with the cheese and the tortillas and then put them in the oven. Once I set the timer, I put the berries in the saucepan with some lemon juice and some sugar, the latter of which I melted down first to make thing stickier.
I had only just brought the berries to a low simmer when Alex padded back into the kitchen, that time with his dark hair tied up in a towel and with no shirt on his little body. That little tummy hung out in the open like the belly of a puppy, just a cute little roll on his waist: his belly button at the center of it all made me think of a donut.
He smelled clean, too; I looked up at the crown of his head and that little shock of gray at the right side peeked out from under the edge of the towel like a little bunny.
“Did you take a shower?” I asked him, surprised.
“As a matter of fact, I did!” he declared, proud.
“That was quick! And quiet, too—I didn’t even hear the water running.”
“I’m a quick kinda guy,” he said with a shrug of his bare slender shoulders.
I gave the berries a stir, and he leaned in closer to smell it.
“The berries have to cook in the pan and then they cool off in the bowl here.” I showed him the metal bowl next to me. “Once they start cooling off, is when I put them in the fridge overnight.”
“When does it become jam?” he asked me.
“Well, it’s becoming jam right now,” I told him as I gave the pan a stir. The berries collected and coalesced all around the base of the pan: the juices were flowing around, and I could make out the first beginnings of jam in there. I switched off the heat and poured the berries into the bowl to let them cool and sit for a time before I put it in the fridge.
The timer on the oven then went off, and I nudged him back away from the door. I took the enchiladas out and rested the pan on the counter behind me.
“Oh, wow,” Alex remarked.
“I hope you’re hungry, big fella,” I told him as I took my oven gloves off and hung them back up over the stove. I stood over the pan to better take in the fresh smell of the enchiladas, and that was when I heard him make a noise as if he was tasting something.
I turned around to find him with his finger in the bowl.
“What do you think?” I asked him as I kept my eye on the bowl itself. Though it wasn’t like eating raw cookie dough, it was still odd to me that he would taste that stuff right after it had come straight off the stove.
“Dude, this is delicious,” he confessed; I lifted my gaze to see him there at the counter with one finger rested upon his tongue as he tasted that fresh jam straight out of the bowl. It was like something out of a porno, especially when he had that utterly smoldering look to those deep eyes. It was as if he was seducing me, as if I had coaxed something out of him, and I had no idea how I did it, but I did it.
You go looking for trouble, you’ll eventually find it in the form of a little gray streak.
Alex moved his finger away from his tongue and wiped it on the towel wrapped around his head, and all the while, he never took his eyes off of me. I could feel his sex, and I could feel his appetite, and I didn’t have to feel his tummy, either. I swallowed, and I returned to the pan of enchiladas right before me.
He didn’t have to see my own erection from underneath my apron.
He didn’t have to feel me, either—
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him giving me a sly smirk in response to that. I tried to not let him see the tremble to my hand, not from nerves but from the fact that he was so damn hot and gorgeous. He stood next to me with his fist down on the counter next to me. The boy may have gained a little bit of weight around his waist, but he had the tightest arms I had ever seen.
“So, what’s next?” he asked me in a soft voice.
“I have to make the sauce,” I said. “It’s just leftover melted cheese and some butter…” My voice trailed off as I looked down at his waist again, at that beautiful fat. The little health nut I knew before gave way to a beautiful, slightly round hedonist.
“Want me to help you?” he offered.
“If you want to,” I replied with a clearing of my throat. “It’s just… stirring a bowl.” As I picked up the spoon, Alex lingered up from behind me and pressed his body against my own: his belly, while still slim, was very soft and tender, a cute little pillow as it pressed against my lower back. I nibbled on my bottom lip as he extended his arm over my own: he placed his hand upon my own, as if he was the one in charge.
In a way, he was in charge. I guided him along to where he could find his own tipping point, and I had a hunch that he had found it.
“I don’t remember you being so filled with such sexuality,” I confessed, and I could feel my throat closing up. I swallowed again, but it was practically futile at that point.
“Let’s just say it’s a nice little bit of jam and leave it at that,” he whispered right into my ear: I couldn’t believe how mellow and husky his voice got when he was so turned on like that.
“What did I do to you,” I muttered as he and I stirred together.
“You woke me up, that’s what you did,” he said. Though we had faked it for John, there was something about this that was so sincere. The feeling of lust, the soft creamy feeling of his skin on my own… it was me. I had made this.
And I was going to run with it as I lifted my hand and he and I both tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl.
“I assume dinner’s ready?” he whispered into my ear.
“You bet your junk in the trunk that it is.”
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Blood and Chocolate