Stephanie Vaughan

Excerpt: "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"

Something smelled fantastic.

Aaron closed the front door behind him and followed his nose,
finding Danny in the kitchen, spooning dough onto cookie sheets.
Since it was Aaron's condo and his kitchen, he knew for a fact
those particular bits of bake ware hadn't been there yesterday,
which meant Danny must have bought them.

Something was definitely up. "Hey."

"Hey." Danny looked up briefly, but not stopping. "Get your laundry
done?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. So what's all this?" Nodding in the direction of the
baking activity, Aaron stuck a finger in the dough and scooped up a
bite.

"Hey, cut it out. It's cookies, genius. Or, it's going to be."

Before Aaron had time to react, Danny's hand shot out and grabbed
Aaron's arm, redirecting both the finger and the dough into Danny's
mouth. Aaron opened his mouth to protest, but Danny began
sucking on Aaron's finger and the visual went straight to Aaron's
cock, bypassing his brain entirely.

His dick going hard, Aaron groaned. "Did anyone ever tell you you do
that really well?"

"Once or twice." Grinning smugly, Danny released Aaron's hand and
went back to spooning cookie dough. "Remind me later and I'll show
you some other creative uses for chocolate chip cookies."

"Later?" Aaron knew he sounded pathetic, but he'd never been
above begging when it came to Danny. He leaned in close, offering
his mouth. "Kiss?"

"Sorry. Very busy. Couldn't possibly stop right now."

"You suck." Danny didn't react, so Aaron tried again. "So what's
behind the sudden interest in domesticity?"

Finally taking the time to triangulate on the source of the
mouth-watering scent that had led him to the kitchen, Aaron
spotted it: a plate with completed specimens already cooling. Aaron
squeezed behind Danny and his bowl of dough, heading for the
refrigerator. After pouring himself a big glass of milk, he snagged a
couple of the cookies and retreated to the other side of the low wall
that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"I saw that." Danny had another two trays filled with blobs of dough
and ready for the oven. "They're to take over to your parents'
house for Christmas Eve."

"Danny?"

"Yeah?

"Dude. That's, like, next week."

Danny slid the trays into the oven. Closing the door on his
creations, Danny turned to face Aaron. "Dude. I know, this is what's
known as a dry run. I need to make sure I still have the touch."

"This would be a touch I don't know about?" It was difficult to leer
around a mouthful of cookies and milk, but Aaron gave it his best
shot.

"Aaron, your grandmother's going to be there, right?"

"Yeah."

"And she owns this condo. Right?"

"Uh-huh. And about half of downtown, too. So?"

"So that makes her your landlady." Danny was looking at him like he
was a backward six-year-old. "I'm moving in next month, which
means pretty soon she'll be my landlady, too. I want her to like me
and she'd have to be made out of stone to resist my chocolate chip
cookies."

"You've put some thought into this."

"Duh."

"Danny, what are you worried about? I've seen you in charming
mode and you're unstoppable." Aaron considered the cookies.
"These are pretty good, though, I've got to admit."

"No sense in taking chances. Charm only gets you so far; it never
hurts to have an ace in the hole."

"You're definitely into this, then?"

Surprised, Danny looked up. "Yeah. Why not? I thought we wanted
to win over your Gran."

Aaron squirmed, not wanting to admit the truth, but Danny pinned
him with a look.

"My idiot brother Brad's going to be there and - honestly - I'd just
as soon not deal with it. We can charm Grandma Lois some other
time. Why don't we just stay home? Or, if you really want to go out,
couldn't we go to your parents'?"

"We could, but it would be pretty quiet. They're going to be in
Boston." The timer on the oven went off and for the next couple of
minutes Danny was busy taking the trays out of the oven and
transferring the warm cookies to the plate to cool. "I thought I told
you."

"You might have." Aaron shrugged. "But if we were fucking at the
time, I can't be held responsible for remembering anything... you
know... factual."

Danny paused, two cookies poised on the tip of the spatula. "'If we
were fucking?' Why would I possibly be telling you about my parents'
travel plans while we were fucking?"

"I dunno. Just sayin'."

* * *

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