Made Glorious Spring ( 18+ from page 10 onwards )

"... 's okay. I don't mind being distracted a little," he says smiling wider back.

 

"Then I'd be happy to be a distraction," Martin leads the way to the produce section, grabbing some apples and adding them to his cart. "How far is it to your place?"

 

"Three blocks," he says, biting his lip. "I, uh. Usually steal a cart for a couple minutes, to be honest."

 

Martin laughs, then flexes one arm. "Then I can handle the heavy lifting," he teases. "My place is over a half-hour walk, but it's a nice walk. 'Specially this time of night."

 

Ben blushes again, giving him a half-smile. "... You sure look strong enough."

Those muscles, fuck...

 

Martin grins hugely. "Thanks."

 

"... you really don't have any shame, do you?" Ben asks, laughing, as he runs a hand through Martin's hair. It's really cute.

Also hot. Ben's mind has been pretty much stuck on Inappropriate Thoughts for the last five minutes, like a broken record.

 

"There's no point in bein' ashamed if it doesn' do anythin'," Martin grins slyly. "An' I've foun' tha' it's much more fun to be who I am than pretend I ain't."

He leans into the hand, biting his lip, eyes half-lidded as he lets out an appreciative 'mm'.

 

"... Heh. It... sounds like it. You flirt with all the boys getting groceries at five am?"

Ben leans in, stealing another kiss, as much as he wants more, wants to linger longer over it. It feels so good to touch...

"... Let's get out of here."

 

"Not always!" Martin grins, squeezing Ben's hand. "...yeah, yeah, let's-"

He keeps stealing grins at Ben as they pay for their groceries, all warm smiles and clear excited happiness.

 

Ben grins back, shy and flushed, dropping his gaze to the ground every time he gets embarrassed. Which is often.

It's only three blocks back, and Ben fumbles the keys from his pocket, going to open up the door as he juggles groceries. "... Second floor."

 

"Cute place!" Martin grins, following the man with his heavy load of groceries.

 

Ben blushes, eyes catching on a stray sock on the floor. It's not really messy, but... uh... He wasn't expecting company. "... Thanks. I. Um. The kitchen's over here."

 

"Cool," Martin smiles easily, navigating the apartment like he's practically at home. "Do you have a really big pan?"

 

"Um... This work?" It's a wok from Goodwill, but... probably the closest he has.

 

Martin beams. "Mhhm. Cuttin' board an' a knife?"

 

Ben rummages, coming up with both. Most of the kitchen supplies are clearly cheap or second-hand, which probably isn't surprising, since he's not much of a cook. He's blushing, embarrassed and fretting about the state of the apartment, as he shifts from foot to foot.

 

(( http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/mario-batali/green-apple-risotto-recipe.html ))

Martin grins. "Watch and learn?"

He puts the wok on, adding butter and oil, then turns his attention to the bags of food, having stowed his own loot in the fridge and left out the ingredients he needs, and deftly flips the knife in his hand, starting to chop up the onion with a cheery hum.

 

'... Please." Ben smiles, shyly reaching out to put a hand on Martin's waist, as he watches. "You're really good at this."

 

Martin grins, cocking his hip into the touch and glancing over his shoulder at Ben. "Lots of practice. Learned to cook at my momma's knee," he beams crookedly. "Though if I'm bein' honest, I learned to make this 'cause I like to snoop 'round my friend's restaurant."