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1
Jonny loves his job; it’s really a vocation, not a career. He believes in what he’s doing, in the impact his farm and his produce are having -- that he’s having -- on the community, on kids, on the planet.
What Jonny doesn’t like is having to be awake at four o’clock in the morning every Wednesday and Saturday for the local farmer’s market.
Especially since Sharpy assigned him the stall next to Kane’s Kuts.
The Kane family isn’t the typical farmer's market types: they don’t actually own a farm, for one thing, a point Jonny’d argued endlessly, and fruitlessly, when the market decided to expand to include artisan stalls in an effort to attract more customers. But beyond that, the Kane family isn’t the typical farmer's market type because of one thing - one person, anyway.
Patrick Kane.
As bad as getting up at four a.m. has always been, it’s nothing compared to having to work next to Patrick -- ”call me Kaner, dude” -- Kane for six hours. And yet Jonny’s been doing just that for the past three weeks.
Jonny’d arrived at his usual time -- an ungodly hour when the sun wasn’t even hinting in the eastern sky -- to find a man unpacking his truck in the space next to the Toews Farm Fresh Produce stall. He was wearing a backwards baseball cap, and his thin shirt was stretched across broad shoulders, shoulders that tapered down to a trim, muscled waist, pale skin peeking out where the shirt had ridden up. Jonny was still staring at that strip of skin when the guy looked over his shoulder.
“Like something you see, dude?” A filthy grin spread across the guy’s face, making dimples pop in his cheeks. He straightened, and when he turned Jonny’s eyes snapped to his chest, just as broad and strong as his back, but punctuated by two tightly furled nipples standing at attention.
Jesus, Jonny thought, swallowing a flood of saliva. He wanted at those nipples. Those nipples deserved to be licked and sucked, to be bitten and worshipped. When Jonny finally forced his gaze up from the guy’s chest, the smirk was gone; but the guy was smiling almost shyly, his cheeks a little pink.
“I’m Kaner,” he said, holding out his hand to Jonny. It made the muscles under his obscenely tight t-shirt flex, and Jonny had to force his gaze away from the image. Meeting Kaner’s eyes didn’t help much, though. They were a gorgeous grey-blue, the color of the lake when the sun had almost set but the light hadn’t completely faded, and right now they were looking at Jonny with a flirtatious sparkle that was doing things for Jonny.
“Jonny,” Jonny said a little dazedly, holding out his hand.
“Come here often, Jonny?” Kaner asked, not showing any sign of letting go of the hand clasped tightly in his own. Which was good, since Jonny wasn’t planning on it either.
“Yeah, this is,” Jonny croaked, and had to clear his throat. “This is my stall.”
“Oh, good, we’re gonna be neighbors,” Kaner said, looking up at Jonny from under his lashes. “This is my family’s spot.” He pointed at the sign that read “Kane’s Kuts.”
“Kane’s...“ Jonny said, his heart sinking. “Are you part of the Kane family?”
“Sure am, I’m Patrick Kane. But everyone calls me Kaner.”
“You’re Patrick Kane?” Jonny repeated, pulling his hand free. “The guy who petitioned City Council to include artisan stands at the farmer’s market? That Patrick Kane?”
“Yep, that’s me!” Kaner chirped happily. “Isn’t it awesome! All the new stands are gonna bring in a ton of new customers and -“
“No,” Jonny interrupted with a sneer. “It’s definitely not awesome. It’s a travesty, and I can’t believe you were assigned a stall space next to me.”
“Dude,” Kaner said, his tone a little sharper. He was frowning now, and unfortunately it didn’t detract from how gorgeous he is. Fuck Jonny’s life, seriously. “It’s all good - there’s plenty of customers for your -“ he peered around Jonny to squint at the side of his truck. “Oh shit.” He looked back up at Jonny. “You’re Jonathan Toews? The asshole who started that petition to ban us from the farmer’s market?”
“Yes,” Jonny said, then frowned. “I mean, no, I’m not an asshole, but -“
“Gotta stop you there, Jonny, because I can tell you must assuredly you are an asshole - “
“Yes, I’m Jonathan Toews,” Jonny finished, gritting his teeth.
“And this is your stall?”
“Yes.” Jonny said. “Has been for the past five years. Which you’d know if you’d ever been to this market.”
“I’ve been here -“
“Probably to scope it out, make sure it was worth the investment,” Jonny said shortly.
“Jesus, are you always like this?” Kaner asked, face hard.
“If you’re asking whether I’m always on the side of doing the right thing, even if it’s not the best way to put money in my pocket? Yes, I am. And yes, farmer’s market newbie, this is my stall.”
“Great,” Kaner snapped. “Just - just great.”
“Wow, something we agree on!” Jonny mocked.
“Oh, fuck you,” Kaner snarled, stepping closer to Jonny.
“No thanks,” Jonny sneered. “I don’t put my dick into neanderthals who make money by butchering innocent, living creatures. Especially not ones who don’t respect traditions like a farmer’s market that’s supposed to be for farmers, not some asshole who just wants to make yet another buck!”
“You -“
“Boys, I see you’ve met,” a mild voice said and they turn to see Patrick Sharp, manager of the market, standing next to them with a clipboard and a disturbingly self-satisfied grin.
Jonny narrowed his eyes. “Sharpy, you dick, what -“
“Sharpy, I can’t believe you assigned me a stall next to this pompous jackass,” Kaner interrupted. “He’s -“
“Boys, boys, simmer down,” Sharpy said, implacable as usual, grin widening into a smirk. “I’m doing this for your own good. You two need to learn to work together.”
“Are you out of your fucking skull?” Jonny demanded.
“What he said!” Kaner echoed.
“Keep your voices down, guys, or all the other nice, new stall owners -- and customers -- are gonna be afraid of the crazy men down in section 1-C,” Sharpy said, his voice a little more firm. “I know neither of you want to hurt the market, right? Or the people who come here to buy food?”
Jonny flushed; the last thing he wanted to do is to cause problems for a place that enables locals to get their produce farm-to-table. He glanced at Kaner, who was looking a little guilty, too.
“Sorry, I didn’t -“
“Yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it, just keep it the fuck down, will ya?” Sharpy said, clicking his pen and marking his clipboard. “This is your assignment for the foreseeable future. According to this, for the next six months.” When Kaner opens his mouth, scowling, Sharpy tuts. “Unless you want me to make it longer?”
“Fine,” Kaner said, rolling his eyes.
“Fine,” Jonny agreed. He’s learned there’s almost never anything to gain from arguing with Sharpy, except a headache and an increase in the number of times he finds shaving cream on his car door handle.
“Now shake hands and play nice boys,” Sharpy said, smirking. “Jonny, I bet you’d love some of Kaner’s locally-cured sausage. And Kaner, you should get some of Jonny’s preserves, he puts them up himself.”
“I don’t eat meat,” Jonny sniffed.
“Yeah, well, I don’t eat preservatives,” Kaner replied with disdain.
“They’re not -“ Jonny said, outraged, but Kaner just laughed meanly and walked away before he could finish. “They’re preserves, not preservatives!” Kaner hadn’t looked back, instead raising both middle fingers over his head before he disappeared around the corner.
“Boys…” Sharpy called out. “Play. Nice.” Jonny had snarled at him and stalked off in the opposite direction.
So they’d retreated to their respective stalls, glaring daggers at each other. And nothing has changed since.
Including how very much Jonny wanted to bang Kaner.
2
Jonny doesn’t really speak to Kaner until about three weeks later. They work alongside each other, exchanging glares and grunts when they have to, but mostly they just avoid each other. So it’s a shock when Jonny comes out of the restroom to find Kaner waiting, arms crossed and looking uncomfortable.
“What do you want?” Jonny stops short, and Kaner’s jaw ticks. “Well?” Jonny demands, when Kaner still doesn’t say anything.
“My - I - “ Kaner scrubs a hand through the riot of curls at the back of his neck, then tucks one behind an ear. Jonny definitely doesn’t take the opportunity to notice how strong his hands look, or how short the nails are, as though he spends a lot of time chewing on them. Instead he just frowns as Kaner just continues to look awkward. “Listen, man, if we’re gonna be working next to each other for the next however long, maybe we should, you know. Make up?”
”Make up?” Jonny repeats, wrinkling his forehead. “What are you, twelve?” He looks Kaner up and down. “I mean, you’re about the size of the average twelve-year-old…”
“Oh, fuck off, asshole, you -” Kaner starts before making a visible effort to pull himself together. “We don’t have to - I just want - I thought -“
“I think all that animal saturated fat has destroyed your brain cells,” Jonny mocks when Kaner just keeps stuttering.
“You -“ Kaner gapes at him and then his expression hardens. “Fucking fine. Wanna keep being assholes to each other? I can do that.” He leans in. “And I can do it better than you because I’m not starving myself. Look at you?” He waves a hand. “Skin and bones. Do you even work out?”
Jonny glares at him, and Kaner laughs a little meanly. “I’d offer you some of our best Italian sausage to grill but I don’t think you’d even know what to do with good sausage. Probably pray over it.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” Jonny responds. “I know exactly what to do: throw it away. That’s what you do with- with that death food.” Jonny manages not to wince at how lame it sounds and Kaner doesn’t seem to notice; he’s too busy flushing bright red with anger.
“Death food?” Kaner’s voice rises enough that a couple of the other stall owners look over, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Are you - did you - my sausages are not death food!”
“Animals died to make them, and they increase obesity and heart disease, Kaner. So yes. Death. Food.” Jonny pushes past him. “I have to get back to work selling food that doesn’t kill people.”
Kaner is still standing there when Jonny turns the corner toward their stalls, his mouth open.
It’s -- unfortunately -- a ridiculously good look on him.
3
If Kaner had truly hoped there could be some kind of détente between him and Jonny, the next few weeks prove how foolish an idea that was.
“Mrs. Hughes!” Kaner beckons. “If you’re done picking through all that tasteless green stuff, I’ve got a new batch of t-bones you’re gonna love!”
“Oh, really?” Mrs. Hughes titters, putting down the romaine lettuce she’d been talking to Jonny about. “Are they marinated?”
“Marinated?” Kaner gasps theatrically, clutching his chest. “Marinate a t-bone steak! Why I never! I shouldn’t even sell you any meat for that kind of comment.” He sniffs and turns his back.
“Patrick, you scamp,” Mrs. Hughes giggles, abandoning any pretense of being interested in Jonny’s produce. “Show me what you’ve got in a nice ribeye; Stuart loves his ribeyes.”
Jonny glares at Kaner after Mrs. Hughes and her package of hand-cut, grass-fed, organic meat have moved on to another stall. “She was my customer,” Jonny hisses out of the side of his mouth, trying to smile at the customer who’s picking out raspberries. “You stole her!”
“She’s not a possession, Toews,” Kaner hisses back, mouth flat. “And that’s just payback for that lecture you gave the second graders last week about how meat processing is inhumane. I’ve been fielding phone calls from parents complaining about how their kids won’t eat hamburgers anymore.”
“Good,” Jonny says, smugly. “They shouldn’t eat hamburger - it’s bad for your heart and your colon, it fucks with your skin, and -”
“Oh, put a cork in it,” Kaner snaps. “You’re just - you’ve - ugh!” He waves his hand in Jonny’s face and stalks off, leaving Jonny smirking.
And possibly watching the way the muscles in Kaner’s ass bunch and flex under the loose, shiny fabric of the basketball shorts he always wears.
4
There’s some kind of commotion going on at Kane’s Kuts, and Jonny can’t help overhearing one of Kaner’s sisters -- Erin? Jenny? Jonny’s never been introduced so he’s not sure -- harping at him about something.
“Pat, you can’t keep this up. You’re making yourself sick!”
“Can you just leave it, Jess,” Kaner’s voice is muted and tired, and it makes Jonny frown to hear the defeat in his tone.
And then frown at himself, because what even is he doing, sympathizing with Kaner of all people?
“No, I cannot just leave it,” his sister - apparently named Jess - continues, catching Jonny’s full attention with her next words. “This whole thing you’ve got going on isn’t healthy. And it’s not like he’s going to change for you. They never do. You know this, hell, you’re the one who taught me this.”
“It’s just - I. I like the guy, okay? And I know he can be an asshole, but I really thought he could - he might,” Kaner trails off. “Ugh. I get it, and I’ll break up with him. I swear. Just not - I’m not ready, okay?”
“Fine, Patrick, but I’m done listening to you complain about him. He’s a dick, and you know it, and until you dump his privileged country club ass for treating you like dirt -- worse, like dirt that’s not fit to walk on -- I’m not listening to this bullshit anymore. Come to me when you’re single and need a shoulder to cry on.”
Jess comes around the side of their stall and glances up at Jonny, her face distressed. She stops short and points a finger at Jonny. “Be nice to him for once in your life, asshole.”
Jonny holds up his hands in surrender as she whirls and storms off, and when he looks back, Kaner’s watching her go, wringing a cloth into a tight spiral, fingers gripping so hard the knuckles are white.
“Suppose you heard all of that,” Kaner says without looking at Jonny.
“Uh,” Jonny stalls, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda?”
“Yeah,” Kaner sighs, looking at him finally. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Jonny says. Kaner’s eyes are a little red and shining, like he’s either been crying or is about to. Jonny doesn’t know if he’s upset about the mystery boyfriend or Jess. Both probably. Kaner’s obviously very close to his sisters, judging by the number of times Jonny’s heard him complain -- not very convincingly -- about being forced to let them paint his nails or braid his hair.
Frankly, they’re all terrifying, and it makes Jonny even more relieved he only has a brother.
Kaner knuckles his eyes and sighs deeply again.
“You okay?” Jonny asks finally, after a long moment broken only by the sounds of the market around them. It’s almost closing time, and most of the other stalls are in the process of packing up for the day.
“Not really,” Kaner shrugs, then freezes, his shoulders stiffening. “I mean - I’m fine, I’m just.” He looks around a little desperately before his eyes land on the sliced sausage and cheese samples still left on the table. “Uh, it’s just a there’s a lot to clean up without help.”
“Sure, yeah,” Jonny nods, happy to ignore the real reason Kaner’s upset. “I’m done with my stall, if you want a hand?”
“You-” Kaner frowns at him a little incredulously. “Why would you want to help me? You hate me!”
“I don’t - that’s…” Jonny takes off his baseball hat to scratch the top of his head, and then pulls it on again, shifting uncomfortably under Kaner’s gaze. “Listen, do you want some help or not?”
“Sure, uh. Could you maybe wrap up the samples for me? Unless -” Kaner smiles a little, not quite a smirk, but there’s a playfulness there that makes something tight inside of Jonny relax. “Unless you want them?”
“Me?” Jonny shakes his head firmly. “Nice try, bud, but no.”
“Nah, man, that’s cool, I get it, no death meat.” When Jonny makes a face at him, Kaner grins. “Can you put them in that bag over there? I’ll just drop them off at the shelter on my way home.”
“Sure,” Jonny replies, quickly packing up the samples. They smell, well, they smell really good: spicy and smoky, and if Jonny wasn’t firmly committed to his cruelty-free lifestyle, he’d probably be tempted to taste a slice. There are a lot of samples, and it takes a few minutes to get them all sorted, wrapped in paper, and packed up.
The bag Kaner indicated is sitting on top of a cooler that says Greater Chicago Food Depository - Keep Frozen. When Jonny jostles the container with his foot, it feels heavy and full. Jonny knows Kaner’s sausages sell for upwards of fifteen dollars each, and the bag is already packed with long, uncut lengths of the artisan sausages they’re so famous for. If the cooler’s full of steaks and chops, which can go for closer to thirty dollars a pound…
“You take all of this to the homeless shelter every week?” He eyeballs the bag. “There have to be ten different kinds of sausage in here.”
“Yeah, so?” Kaner’s voice is defensive. “What’s wrong, don’t think the poor guys at the shelter should be subjected to dead animals?”
“No, I...” Jonny starts. “I mean, yeah, I don’t think animal protein is the healthiest choice, but I didn’t mean that. It’s just - that’s a lot of money you’re just giving away.” Jonny donates vegetables and fruit, sometimes preserves, but it’s usually stuff that’s just going to spoil. And it’s never this expensive.
“Oh,” Kaner says, a spot of red appearing over his cheekbone. “Well, I just - we have a lot of meat, it’s no big deal. It’s just gonna spoil, anyway.”
Jonny looks dubiously at the “Frozen” emblazoned on the side of the cooler, but Kaner ignores him. Jonny goes back to his own stall without any more conversation, folding up the table and chairs and stowing them in his truck before looking around to make sure he didn’t forget anything. Kaner’s doing the same, but he keeps glancing over at Jonny, biting his lip.
“What?” Jonny asks finally, a little sharp.
“Nothing, just.” Kaner licks his lips. “Thanks? For helping with the samples and for, you know. Not being a dick about my sister.”
“I - “ Jonny shrugs a little, embarrassed. “Siblings, man. Pain in the ass, right?”
“Yep,” Kaner says fondly, a soft smile on his face. “Total pains. You should try having three sisters.”
“Nope, no thanks, one little brother’s enough for me,” Jonny says quickly and emphatically enough that it makes Kaner laugh, both dimples appearing this time.
Jonny must stare at him for too long because Kaner’s face contorts into something more confused. “It’s been a, uh, long day, should probably get going.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Kaner says with a deep sigh. “I just want to go home and veg, watch the game in my sweats, not think about anything. But I’ve got plans, so.” He doesn’t look excited about his evening, though, and Jonny wonders if he’s going out with the asshole boyfriend that his sister was so angry about earlier.
Jess walks up then, as though Jonny thinking about her conjured her up out of thin air. She looks sad and tense, and Kaner makes a face and beckons her over, wrapping her up in a hug.
“Sorry, Pat,” Jess says softly.
“No, I’m sorry,” Kaner says, his eyes shining again.
Jonny turns away, putting the last of his stuff into the back of the truck while they talk quietly to each other. Kaner catches his eye as he’s getting into the truck, though, and mouths, “thanks, Jonny.” Jonny waves and heads home, trying not to think too much about how angry he is at the nameless, faceless boyfriend who could snuff out the happy light in Kaner’s eyes.
5
Jonny doesn’t end up having a peaceful night at home: Seabs somehow always knows when Jonny’s weak and shows up with some horrible plan that will only end in aggravation and hangovers.
Jonny doesn’t even bother to fuss about it anymore, just allows himself to be bundled off to Duncs’ pub.
“Jon, you need to get laid,” Seabs is saying as he pushes Jonny onto a stool, leaning over the bar to pour them both a pint. “Seriously. You looking even more serious and tight-assed than usual. Which is saying something, considering the size of that thing.”
“Stop looking at my ass,” Jonny grumbles, taking a long gulp of his beer.
“Ass aside, you’re too thin,” Abby chimes in from the next stool, knocking her shoulder against Jonny’s. “You need to eat more. Here.” She pushes a plate towards Jonny. “Try this. It’s artisan, cured locally. You’ll love it.”
“Abby, you know I’m not eating meat right now,” Jonny says, glancing at the slices of smoked meat and groaning. “Is that Saucy Sopra, from Kane’s Kuts?”
Abby laughs. “Oh my god, it is! How did you even know that?“ She’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind and Jonny pushes the plate back towards her.
“Your husband put Kane’s Kuts right next to my stall at the market, and now it’s like I can’t escape him. Them.” He takes a long gulp of his pint, gesturing toward Duncs, who’s been talking quietly to Seabs. “Another?”
Abby and Seabs take pity on Jonny and don’t press him further about Kaner, but they’re not wrong about Jonny needing to eat. The sausage does look good, and Jonny’s been feeling more and more torn about his vegan lifestyle. Despite what he’s said to Kaner, it’s never been as much about animal cruelty as much as it’s about his commitment to healthy, sustainable, environmentally responsible nutrition.
Spending days stuck next to the Kane’s meat stall has impressed upon him that some animal products can be locally sourced and responsibly produced.
Trying not to stare at the sliced meat, Jonny orders some guacamole and salsa and spends the evening catching up on Abby and the kids. It’s easy, it’s nice, it’s familiar; and Jonny realizes how much he’s missed all of them, all of his friends. The past year he’s devoted himself to his farm, and his commitment to living a more thoughtful life, but sometimes it’s been at the expense of his old friends. He lets himself sink back into their circle, grateful that Seabs dragged him out.
Jonny’s pleasantly buzzed when he notices Kaner in the corner, tucked into a booth with six loud guys, his cheeks red and eyes glassy. Jonny watches as the man next to him squeezes Kaner tightly against him, and then laughs a little meanly when he pinches Kaner’s ass and makes Kaner jump.
Kaner pushes at the guy’s arm, and he holds his hands up in, then pouts a little at Kaner, pleading with him, until Kaner relents and kisses him. The guy rolls his eyes at one of his friends over Kaner’s head once they’ve settled back into place, and Jonny frowns, annoyed on Kaner’s behalf. He must be the guy Jess and Kaner fought about earlier, and even without knowing more, Jonny can tell Jess has the right of it - this asshole isn’t good enough for Kaner.
Jonny sips slowly and keeps a subtle eye on Kaner’s table, but he’s evidently not subtle enough because after a few minutes, Sharpy steps in front of him, blocking his view with a knowing look.
“See something you like?” Sharpy asks.
“Fuck off, Sharpy,” Jonny responds, swallowing the last of his pint.
Sharpy sits down on the stool next to Jonny. “Toe-ez, you wound me. Here I am, trying to help you - “
“You’re a horrible person who exists solely to torment me,” Jonny says, pointing an accusing finger at Sharpy.
“Now, wait, he also exists to give me beautiful children,” Abby chimes in. “But I agree about him tormenting you.”
“See?” Jonny stabs Sharpy with his finger, making him rock back. “She gets it.”
“Whatever, Tazer,” Sharpy pushes Jonny’s finger away and waves his hand in the air blithely. “My point is that that boy over there is perfect for you. And if you’d just stop being an ass and make a little effort, come down off the mountain of high principle you’ve been living on for the past fifteen months, maybe you would see that.”
Jonny’s rolls his eyes at Sharpy, but once Abby’s pulled him away, his gaze settles back on Kaner, watching as Kaner pulls into himself, his fingers tapping a pattern onto the table, the others ignoring him as they listen to Kaner’s boyfriend spin some kind of tale. He’s still got an arm around Kaner and he’s animated enough that it’s starting to make Kaner bounce and jerk a little. Kaner finally ducks out from under it, gesturing at the bathroom. The guy glances at Kaner and nods a little, his mouth tight, promptly returning to his story.
Jonny watches Kaner make his way over to the restrooms, his shoulders slouched, stumbling a little with how much he’s had to drink. Sharpy clears his throat pointedly when Jonny stands up, but Jonny flips Sharpy off before making his way over to intercept Kaner.
Kaner’s not looking and bumps into him, shuffling to the side with an apology, never even glancing up. “Hey, Kaner,” Jonny says, and Kaner looks up. His eyes are unfocused and Jonny swears under his breath when Kaner sways a little in place. “Are you okay?”
“Jonny?” Kaner’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Why are you in the bathroom? Do you gotta pee, too?”
“You’re not in the bathroom yet, jackass” Jonny says, hustling Kaner into the room as Kaner reaches for his belt. “Jesus, how drunk are you?”
“Not drunk enough, I can still hear you bitching,” Kaner chirps, straightening from where he’s leaning into Jonny. Jonny gets him situated at a urinal and politely looks away as Kaner finishes his business and buckles up again.
“Wash your hands,” Jonny says, pushing Kaner over to the sink.
“Okay, mom,” Kaner snickers, but he’s listing to one side and Jonny has to prop him up again at the sink.
“You’re completely wasted,” Jonny says. “Get your boyfriend to take you home.”
Kaner makes a face. “Yeah, he’s not ready to leave, plus he’s - “ He frowns. “Why’m I even talking to you about this? You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Kaner,” Jonny says, and Kaner stares at him, his lips parted for a long moment. “But you are a giant pain the ass.”
Kaner barks out a laugh. “I’d have to be an extra giant pain to make any kind of impression on your ass,” Kaner says, grabbing at Jonny’s butt. Jonny swats his hand away, but he can feel himself blushing at the way Kaner’s looking at him.
“Did you just call yourself an extra giant pain in the ass?” Jonny asks.
“I - no,” Kaner says, comically confused, shaking his head hard enough that he stumbles.
“Pretty sure you did,” Jonny responds, grabbing Kaner before he can slide down the wall. “Fuck this, I’m taking you home if your boyfriend won’t.”
“Ohhh, you’re such a sweet talker, Jon, I bet you get all the boys with that sugar tongue,” Kaner leers, swiping his own tongue over his bottom lip, leaving it glistening. Jonny’s staring at it when the door to the bathroom bangs open, startling them both.
“Jesus, here you are!” Kaner’s boyfriend says, walking over and grabbing his arm. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Uh,” Kaner says, looking down at the hand on his arm. “Peeing?”
“God, you’re a fucking embarrassment,” the man snipes, pulling Kaner. “You need to get your ass home before you make a bigger fool out of yourself than you already have.” He tugs Kaner out the door, none too gently, and Jonny finds himself following, watching to make sure the guy isn’t hurting Kaner. But now Kaner’s leaning into him, and the guy’s whispering to him, making Kaner duck his head and smile sweetly before catching Jonny’s eye and flushing.
The guy looks over Kaner’s head and makes the sign for getting a blow job at his friends, who burst out laughing as he and Kaner stumble outside.
Jonny watches them until they’re gone, and when he sits down again, Duncs puts a shot in front of him wordlessly.
Fuck, Jonny thinks. Fuck.
+1
There’s a knock on Jonny’s door the next morning just as he’s getting ready to sit down to breakfast. He looks at the omelet he’d been unable to resist making and sighs. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling him not to eat them, but for now, all he can feel is regret that the cheesy eggs are going to get cold.
“What,” Jonny snaps when he pulls the door open, stopping short when he sees Kaner standing on his front porch. He’s wearing sunglasses and has a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, all under a hoodie, but he’s still wincing from the bright sun. “Jesus, you look like a fucking vampire, come in before you burst into flames.”
Once Kaner’s inside, he pushes the hoodie back off his shoulders and takes off his sunglasses. “I - “ Kaner croaks, clearing his throat. “I wanted to apologize.” He’s holding a bag in one hand and pushes it at Jonny. “I even brought you some sausage. Non-meat!” He says when Jonny just stares at him. “Tofu or some soy shit or something, I don’t know. I bought it at the Whole Foods on the way over here.”
“You bought me tofu sausage?” Jonny looks in the bag and sure enough, there’s Lightlife Gimme Lean meatless veggie sausage, next to a small butcher-paper wrapped package. “What’s the other thing?”
“Oh, that’s just, uh.” Kaner shifts from foot to foot. “I brought a few Kane’s Kut links for me, in case. Uh.” He shrugs and rubs his face against one shoulder, looking sheepish. “IncaseyouwantedtoeatbreakfastogetherbecauseI’mnoteatingthatveggieproteinbullshit.”
Jonny frowns as he parses out what Kaner said. “You want to have breakfast? With me?”
“Well,” Kaner huffs, “I’m here, aren’t I? Jesus, you’re slow.” He turns and looks over at the door to the kitchen. “I smell eggs. And cheese.” His eyes widen. “Is it fake eggs and fake cheese? Because it smells delicious. I might have to take back everything I’ve ever said about your stupid vegan diet.”
“No, it’s - I made an omelet,” Jonny admits, refusing to flush. He’s not ashamed. “With real eggs and real cheese.”
“But - “ Kaner looks stunned. “I thought you -”
“I am, I just.” Jonny shrugs. “I’ve been wanting an omelet and so I just. I made an omelet. It’s not that big of a deal, Jesus.”
Kaner looks at him assessingly then turns, heading into the kitchen. “Okay, so feed me, then.”
“What?” Jonny says, following Kaner and finding him seated at the island, nose to the plate with the omelet and an expression on his face that’s so rapturous, that it’s almost like he’s - Jonny has to swallow and look away.
“I’m hungry and hungover,” Kaner says. “And you’ve got this huge feast. So feed me, asshole.”
“I’m not - hey, don’t eat that!” Jonny exclaims as Kaner breaks off a corner of the omelet, moaning and closing his eyes as he chews. “Oh my god, this is amazing!” He opens one eye to look at Jonny. “You made this? You? My vegan nemesis?”
“Shut up,” Jonny grumbles. “I can cook.”
“I’ll say,” Kaner nods. “This is - you’d better get another fork if you want any. Or-” He pulls back. “If you wanna cook the “ - he makes a face - “veggie sausage, I can wait.”
“I…” Jonny trails off, looking at the bag and the packages of sausage. “Fuck it.” Kaner watches him curiously as he puts aside the veggie sausage and unwraps the Kane’s Kuts.
“Not hungry for that soy bull - er. The veggie sausage?” Kaner asks, still making a face like he sucked on a lemon.
“Nope,” Jonny says, starting to brown the links. “Hey, mind stowing the sausage and grabbing me a smoothie out of the fridge?”
Kaner pulls out the pitcher Jonny’d made earlier. “This green crap?”
“It’s not green crap,” Jonny frowns, taking a long drink and licking his lips to catch a couple of drops off his mouth. When he looks over at Kaner, he’s just watching him, his mouth dropped open and eyes unfocused. He startles when Jonny snorts and tries to look casual, but he can’t hide how his eyes keep dropping to Jonny’s mouth.
“Gross,” Kaner says, voice hoarse and Jonny snorts again.
“What the fuck was that about last night anyway?” Jonny asks as the sausage browns. “Because your boyfriend is a dick.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not my boyfriend anymore,” Kaner says darkly. “He humiliated me in front of his friends, again, and I just.” Kaner looks at Jonny, his expression guarded. “I guess I finally figured out that I don’t deserve to be treated like that.”
“Good,” Jonny says emphatically. “Because that dick definitely doesn’t deserve a guy like you.”
“Yeah, cause I’m such a catch,” Kaner rolls his eyes, but Jonny can see how unsure he is underneath the sarcasm.
“You are,” Jonny agrees matter of factly. “You’re funny, kind, intelligent, and gorgeous.” Kaner’s staring at him, his mouth dropped open, cheeks pink.
“I’m… what?” Kaner croaks. “Jonny…”
“You heard me,” Jonny says. “You’re a great guy. Even when you’re making me nuts. Which you do constantly, by the way.”
“It’s a gift,” Kaner says, nonchalant, but his cheeks are still pink, and he keeps sneaking glances at Jonny. He looks shy, and uncertain, and so fucking pretty that Jonny has to force himself to turn back to the sausage.
“Shut up, Kaner,” Jonny says, inclining his heads toward the cabinet with the plates. “Now go set another place at the table if you’re gonna make me share my food.”
“Hey, I brought something!” Kaner protests. “Not my fault you never seem to want what I’m offering.”
Jonny puts the spatula down and turns to look at Kaner. “That’s not accurate.”
“Hmm?” Kaner’s pulling open drawers, finally pulling out a fork with a flourish. “What’s not accurate?”
“I do want it.” Jonny walks over and takes the flatware out of Kaner’s hand, putting it on the counter and turning him until they’re standing face to face before stepping even closer. “I mean, if you’re offering, I want it.”
“You…” Kaner’s voice is barely a whisper. “You do?”
“Mmm hmm,” Jonny says. “I really do.”
“Oh,” Kaner says dumbly. “That’s.”
“So what do you say we sit down and eat some sausage, a few eggs, and then I finally, finally get to kiss you like I’ve been wanting to do since that morning at the market when you first started being a pain in my ass.” Jonny watches Kaner’s eyes, and he can see when they cloud a little. “What?”
“I - I’m not.” Kaner looks down and steps back enough to put some space between them. “I’m not a good bet, Jonny. Just ask my last four boyfriends.” When Jonny frowns at him, Kaner shrugs self-consciously. “And we don’t have anything in common. Hell, my family owns a butcher shop and, you’re a fucking vegan.”
“Eh,” Jonny says, making a see-saw motion with his hand. “I’m kinda over the vegan thing. There’s this amazing guy who keeps offering me his sausage, and I think I need to take the hint and give it a try.”
“With me?”
“Yes, with you, Kaner.” Jonny watches as Kaner chews on the inside of his cheek. “What?”
“Sorry, I’m still a little stuck on the wanting to kiss me part,” Kaner says, moving closer again. “Because I’ve been wanting that, too. Like, a lot.” He licks his lips, and Jonny can’t stop staring at how they glisten, pink and soft-looking.
“That’s,” Jonny rasps hoarsely. “That’s, good.”
Jonny watches as Kaner leans forward. “I don’t think I can wait until after breakfast, though,” Kaner says, and kisses him.
Kaner’s lips are as luscious as Jonny had expected, warm and soft, and they open to Jonny’s tongue when he licks along the seam. Jonny groans into Kaner’s mouth, licking and sucking on Kaner’s tongue until he feels light-headed. When he lifts his head again, Kaner’s panting, his grip on Jonny’s arms spasming a little. His mouth is swollen and red, and Jonny’s left a little beard-burn along one side where he’d been tongueing at a scar bisecting his lip.
“That’s, you,” Kaner says, his voice deeper, and it makes Jonny’s cock twitch to imagine how hoarse Kaner might get if he sucked Jonny off. He has to take several deep breaths to get ahold of himself before he starts humping Kaner in the kitchen.
“Wow,” Kaner finally manages after swallowing loudly.
“Wow,” Jonny echoes, knocking his forehead lightly against Kaner’s. “So, how ‘bout we eat some of your sausage, and then maybe you can eat my -“
“You. Don’t you dare - “ Kaner warns, putting his hands up, but Jonny’s waited a long time to say it and he just laughs and steps towards Kaner.
“I mean, I’m not saying I want to pork you -“
“Oh my God, how am I attracted to you,” Kaner moans, covering his own face.
“-but I totally want to pork you.”