by Jennie
Peter would be here soon. Expecting dinner.
And he couldn't find the fucking parsley.
How the hell could he finish off the gyro meat without parsley?
Once again, he opened the cabinet above the stove and rummaged through the
jars of spices. Ah ha... triumphantly, he grabbed the needed item and
opened it, sprinkling a fair amount of the spice into the ground meat
mixture. He stirred it and added a touch more water, lowering the heat.
There. That could simmer while he ran up and changed...
The doorbell rang.
Shit.
He shrugged and wiped his hands off on the dishtowel at his waist, as he
crossed to open the door.
"Peter," he greeted, holding the door open for the other man. "Come on
in."
"Hey, Vic." Peter Caine walked into the room and sniffed the air
appreciatively. "Whatever you're cooking up smells great!"
"Thanks," he answered, gratified at not hearing any nasty insinuations about
his cooking—a la Mac. "I made gyros... hope you like Greek."
Reran his own words through his head at Peter's amused look and blushed
fiercely. "I mean Greek cooking."
"I know what you meant, Vic." Peter grinned at him. "And, the answer is,
yes, I do like Greek."
Oh my.
Vic swallowed heavily and tried to gather his scattered wits. "Um... lemme
take your coat. Come on in and sit down, dinner'll be ready soon. You want
a drink?"
Slipping out of his jacket, Peter handed it—along with his shoulder
holster, to Vic. "I'll have whatever you're having... to drink."
"Oh." Vic stood for a second, holding the jacket and weapon and frantically
searched his mind for even a hint of just what he had been drinking. Oh,
yeah... "Wine," he stated baldly, tossing the jacket and holster onto a
chair. "We're having wine with dinner, I'll just go and get you some."
Peter followed him into the kitchen and watched bemused as Vic fumbled with
the wine, sloppily filling a glass and thrusting it into his hand.
"Thanks." Peter took a sip and smiled appreciatively. "Nice."
Nervously, Vic moved to the stove and stirred the meat. "It's about ready...
you want to eat now or sit down for a bit first. Drink wine, talk... you know?"
Peter smiled and took a step back. "Let's sit down in the living room.
Talk a little. We really haven't had a chance to know each other very
well."
Nodding, Vic moved to follow. It was all too true. He and Caine had run
across each other on a recent case here in Toronto and had seemed to hit it
off pretty well. Certainly they shared an intensity in their work that Mac
Ramsey, his partner and sometimes nemesis, was definitely lacking. And,
they'd discovered that they really enjoyed working out together. Vic had
learned quite a bit from the cop already. He was always sore after a good
workout; this kung fu stuff was deceptively strenuous.
They also shared common interests as they were of an age. That was so
fucking nice after listening to Mac's incessant digs about Vic's advancing
years.
And there was the physical interest. It had been a long time since he'd
played the game, but Vic felt pretty sure that his interest in Peter was
returned.
At least, he hoped it was.
Peter backed up another step and Vic's eyes widened in horror.
"Watch out," he tried to warn the other man. "You're going to trip over-"
Down Peter went.
Max, taking great offense at this, bobbed his head fiercely at Peter and
lashed him with his tail.
"Hey!" Peter rolled away from the threatening lizard. "What the fuck?"
"Oh man," Vic moaned. He stepped over Max, expertly dodging the lethal tail,
and offered Peter a hand. "I'm really sorry about that."
"Uh huh." Accepting the proffered hand, Peter rose to his feet, careful to
keep Vic's body between him and the damned lizard. "I hate to ask a stupid
question, Vic... But, why the hell do you have an attack-lizard running
loose?"
"He belongs to the kid next door," Vic explained. "They're on vacation and
I'm watching Max for them. He's a little cranky and the vet's office won't
keep him anymore."
Peter glared down at the iguana, noting that the creature seemed to have
decided that he was beneath its notice. Eyes closed, head turned away, Max
was the very picture of silent contempt.
"Doesn't he have a cage, or something?" Peter asked.
"Actually, he kinda outgrew his cage... um, I usually lock him in the
bathroom. Must've left the door open earlier."
Gingerly, Vic reached down to pick up the iguana. He sighed with relief
when Max declined to put up a fight. "I'll be right back," he said,
heading out of the room to put Max away.
Moving back into the kitchen, Peter refilled his wineglass and grabbed a
towel to clean up the mess from his earlier spill. A lizard. Of all the
damned things... he just had to go and fall over a fucking iguana.
Surely, Vic now thought he was a clumsy idiot.
Shit.
He wanted Vic. Had from the first moment he'd laid eyes on the man. Had
been desperately trying to come up with a way to ask the man out at the end
of the case—without offending him, if he'd read Vic's interest wrongly -
when Vic had suddenly invited him over for dinner. He'd been nervously
hopeful on his arrival. Heartened a bit by Vic's obvious anxiety.
And then he'd gone and fallen over a lizard.
He groaned aloud, sure that Vic was laughing at him.
"Hey." Vic came into the room. "You okay?" He asked, concerned by that
groan. "You didn't hurt yourself when you fell over Max?"
Peter offered an embarrassed smile. "Only my pride was injured. The rest
of me is fine."
"Oh yeah," Vic agreed. "The rest of you is definitely fine."
Then, he was the one groaning aloud. Raising his hands to cover his
flaming face, he mumbled through his fingers; "Please tell me I didn't say
that out loud."
"Loud and clear, my friend." Peter smiled widely. "Loud and clear... and
I'm most... gratified to hear that you think so."
Vic peeked at the other man and sighed with relief. A beautiful smile, body
language that suddenly screamed 'let's fuck' and, best of all, a decided
twinkle of amusement in his pretty eyes.
"So... " Vic moved a step closer, "the question is, dinner now? Or shall
we—um—get to know each other a little better?"
"Oh, I think the second... I'm starved, Vic—but not for dinner. I think
we need to work up an appetite for food first."
"Jesus, I'm glad you said that," Vic said huskily. "Let's go into the
bedroom—that is what you want, isn't it?"
Peter grinned. "Lead the way, Vic. I'm right behind you."
So, Vic did. And damned if they didn't work up one hell of an appetite.
Unfortunately, by the time they emerged in search of sustenance, dinner was
ruined. Vic shrugged. Hell, it had been a small sacrifice to pay, he
decided. Picking up the phone, he called out for pizza.
"We've got 45 minutes before they deliver." Vic moved behind Peter,
wrapping his arms around the man's midsection. "Any ideas on how we can
pass the time?"
"Oh," Peter turned in his arms and grinned wickedly. "I have a thought or
two."
He hauled a very willing Vic back to the bedroom.
Damned if that 45 minutes didn't just fly by.
Vic reluctantly climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans before going to
collect their dinner. He brought the pizza, the wine and a huge smile back
into the bedroom. "I think we'll just eat right here... avoid spending
energy on unnecessary, um, exercise." Vic shucked his jeans and climbed
back into the bed.
Peter smiled. "I like the way your mind works, Mansfield... you have your
priorities in good order." He grabbed a slice of pizza, offering the first
bite to Vic.
They lounged in the bed, feeding each other pizza, licking away grease from
each other's lips and generally being tenderly silly as new lovers often
were.
It was nice.
Once they were finished eating, Vic put the empty box on the floor and
filled their glasses with the last of the wine. He lay back against Peter's
shoulder with a contented sigh. "What now?" He asked lazily.
"Well," Peter teased, "a shower might be nice... all that warm water...
soap... mmm...."
"Sounds good to me," Vic agreed, pulling away to rise to his feet.
"But first..." Peter said in a very serious voice.
"What?" Vic asked, somewhat concerned by Peter's tone.
"You're gonna have to get that man-eating lizard out of there."
Vic snorted with laughter. "He's not all that bad, really. But, I
certainly don't intend to shower with him."
Moving with alacrity, Vic went into the bathroom and moved Max down to the
kitchen. There. He smiled satisfied that Max would not be a problem. The
linoleum floor was chilly. Iguanas are cold-blooded. Within moments, Max
would shut down. Oh, the floor wasn't cold enough to harm the animal—but,
it would definitely keep him out of the way for the foreseeable future.
And Vic had some very intriguing ideas about how he wanted to spend the
immediate future.
He headed back to the bedroom, smiling in anticipation.
ic grumbled under his breath as he searched the cupboards for dried parsley
flakes. Dammit, he knew he'd just bought some... What in the hell had he
done with it? Glancing up at the clock, he grimaced. He was running out of
time.
