Page 50 of Together Again

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I woke to the sound of Max swearing. I always left my bedroom door open in case the cat wanted to snuggle up, so when I sat up I had an uninterrupted view of Max’s room where he was lying on his front with the cat jumping on his back.

“Max,” I shouted, and both looked my way. I couldn’t help laughing.

I got up to give the cat his morning meal, hoping he’d follow me to the kitchen. He did his usual dance around my legs.

“I know what you see in him, but we don’t scratch other people’s backs, okay?” Max meowed and then focused on his food.

“Oh really? That’s not how it felt the last time we were together,” Max said as he leaned on the wall that partitioned the kitchen and the living room.

My cheeks heated and my dick hardened in my boxer shorts. Fuck. I’d left the bedroom in just my underwear, and now I was facing a very dressed Max.

His voice had been playful as he teased me, but his eyes were now pools of heat scorching my skin as they roamed my body from my head to my toes.

His hardness was visible even under his jeans, and I was glad I wasn’t the only one affected by the other’s presence. Although, I did need to put someclothes on. Friends didn’t walk around each other in their underwear, right?

“Er, I’m going to get dressed. There’s ground coffee in the freezer,and the coffee machine is just there,” I said, pointing to the counter.“If you get that started, I’ll make us some toast when I’m back.”

I didn’t hear his reply as I escaped to my bedroom.

After yesterday’s kiss, having Max in my spare bedroom, and now seeing how hard he got for me, I was too turned on to just get dressed.

I went into my bathroom and got the shower started. It didn’t take me long until I was shooting my release all over the shower wall.

The coffee pot was nearly full, but Max wasn’t in the kitchen when I returned.

I’d put bread in the toaster and got sliced ham out of the fridge before Max appeared again, his face flushed like he’d just had a shower.

We were fucked sharing my apartment for the next week.

After breakfast, I asked Max if he wanted to go sightseeing. I’d purposefully left my diary clear this week in case there were any issues with Diogo and his stay with his family, so I was happy to show Max around.

We started by going to Belém. I knew Max would enjoy seeing the Tower of Belém and walking along the river toward the Discoveries Monument.

It was an area I thought had a special energy. The Tower had seen generations of Portuguese kings and conquerors sailing past toward unknown lands.

Standing there, facing the mouth of the river, all I could see were possibilities: for me, for the world.

“Are you okay?” Max asked.

“Yeah, I was just thinking how brave people were back in the day. A lot of the world was uncharted and they still went, not knowing if they’d ever come back. It’s humbling.”

When I finished, I looked at Max who was staring back at me, a smile on his face.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re… never mind,” he shook his head, the smile never leaving him. “Why don’t you take me to that custard tart place you mentioned earlier.”

On our way to the place that sold the famousPastéis de Belém,I tried to explain to Max why they weren’t custard tarts even though they looked exactly like them.

“So you’re saying that the only place that is allowed to call themPastéis de Belémis this café?”

“Yes, the original recipe was created by the monks from the Jerónimos Monastery nearby. This family-run factory owns the secret recipe, so they’re the only ones who can call themPastéis de Belém.”

Threepastéislater, Max declared they were delicious, but as we sat at a small table surrounded by people, he got close and whispered in my ear thatpastéisor tarts, they were all the same to him.

“Isaac, can I ask you a favor?”