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Bananas. Scratch that—caramelized bananas. Nutmeg. Vanilla. Maple. Blessed, glorious black coffee.
Chili pepper?
Billy grins before he even opens his eyes. Staying with Dominic is the best.
He stretches in the huge bed, silky sheets hugging him. If he doesn’t get up, the food will likely come to him, he thinks with a wider smile. On a tray with a hardy little desert flower, plucked straight from Dom’s garden. It would probably even have an ant on it, or a spider, which Dominic would coo at and feed from the plate. He’d better get up and head down. Billy draws a line at Dominic coddling the wrong little beastie this particular morning. Any other day he’s a tolerant man.
Swinging his feet down, he pads down in bare feet and pajama bottoms, watching from the stairs for a moment at Dom in his kitchen, dutifully minding a pan and humming under his breath. Shirtless. Numpty.
"Happy birthday to me," he says, getting Dom to turn and grin.
"Shoulda stayed in bed, old man," Dom tosses over his shoulder as Billy comes closer, "Can’t have someone your age over-exert himself."
"Show you over-exertion," he growls, wrapping himself around Dom from the back, burying his face in his neck to bite. "What did you make for me to eat? Besides you."
"Banana waffle," Dom says. "There’s even clotted cream in the fridge."
"Man of my heart," he grins as Dom pours the banana mixture over a waiting crispy golden waffle, "And tum. You’re terrible for my pants size."
He holds on even as Dom puts the pan aside and turns off the fire, going for the cream and a spoon to finish it. Then he turns, grabbing the tum in question and sliding his hands around and down with a gravelly rumble, “Got to keep you in hobbit shape forever, Pip.”
Nuzzling in for a kiss, Billy remembers the chili aroma, tasting it on Dom’s tongue as he pulls back with a smacking sounds. “And you?” he asks, stroking his palms up Dom’s sides, “What did you eat? The muscliest of all hobbits.”
"I am the Magnificent one. I had avocado and pepper with spicy peanut butter on toast." Dom lifts his eyebrows as Billy looks down at his torso, thumbs stroking over his chest. He grins. "My eyes are up here, arsehole."
"Yeah, but your tits are down here," Billy protests, and then sighs. He ought to start running again. He ought to do harder yoga. He’s naughty when he isn’t home, and Dominic indulges him, at the same time as he eats like a rabbit to keep this solid beautiful body of his.
"None of that negativity," Dom reprimands gently, "You’re taking me to Buffalo Wild Wings later."
"Oh, aye?"
"Mmm," Dom nods, "That’s how I celebrate Billy Day. It’s a international holiday."
"That it is."
Dom grins wide as Billy shovels a mound of sweet banana in his face, resting his own hand on his cheek as he watches Billy eat. “Wish it was more often,” he murmurs.