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That was the only thing in the house that could have interested Josh more than the kitchen, and he didn't protest leaving the high-tech room for the more basic studio. It consisted mainly of a drafting table, a chair, and different designs and photographs pinned to the walls.
"I've got three I like," Peter said, laying out three large pieces of paper over the desk. "Come see."
Josh did as he was instructed, leaning over the table to study each one. The theme for the national competition was dreams, and each design reflected a Dali-inspired, surrealist, candy landscape.
"You don't like them?" Peter asked after several beats of silence.
"I do," Josh assured him quickly. "I'm just ... trying to take it all in."
"They're a bit out there."
Josh was so absorbed in the sketches that he didn't notice Peter move. Until he was standing directly behind him, his chest against Josh's back as he leaned over to point at the third piece of paper. Josh closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the unfamiliar pressure. His cock even began to stir a bit, and he quickly refocused on the sketches, trying to calm his accelerating pulse.
"I like the shape of this one, but I'm not sure if the piece will support itself."
The shape was a sweeping grand gesture, each piece stacked on the one below it perilously. Josh knew how to fix that particular problem, but he couldn't concentrate with Peter standing so close, and he couldn't very well ask the man to move. For one thing, he didn't want Peter to step away.
"No, no, it'll work." Just don't ask me to explain how. "What about the colors? What were youplanning?"
"The globes will be purple. Spun sugar. The chocolate pieces here and here will be white. The rest of these will be just a kaleidoscope of colors. Clashing."
"I like that. Well, if I get a vote, I vote for this one."
"Why wouldn't you get a vote?"
Peter still wasn't moving. It took everything Josh had not to push back, pressing his ass against Peter's cock.
"It's your design."
"But you're my partner."
If he didn't get away from Peter, he was going to melt. Or break. Or something. He didn't know. He just knew that Peter smelled like toffee and beer. They both needed a shower, but that was a dangerous thought to have. He didn't need to be thinking about Peter in the shower, about both of them naked and slick, about pressing his body to Peter's and feeling his warmth and his pulse. He had never seen Peter unclothed, or even partially clothed, but he knew exactly what Peter would look like because he could feel that muscled chest against his back.
Posted April 24, 2013
Posted June 21, 2012