Theseus could get used to this. He smiled lazily as Oliver went to town, one hand playing with the man’s hair. It was so easy to fall back into a rhythm with Oliver, and when the blow job was done, Theseus showed his appreciation- first with a series of long kisses, and then by telling the man to go sit at the counter.
“No- wait. Wash your hands first, you don’t know where I’ve been,” Theseus said, washing his own at one of the large, industrial sinks and going to the fridge. He pulled out the round, chocolate ball of spongy goodness from the fridge and put it on the counter with two spoons and pot of decaf coffee. “You know, I can always make you dinner. We don’t have to start with dessert,” Rosier pointed out, raising a brow slightly. He had a feeling that Oliver would tell him exactly what he wanted from Theseus, be it cooking or otherwise.
Theseus was proud of what he could do. Not just with sex, but with cooking. The dessert was perfect, it looked like it had come out of a magazine. For all his wandering away from responsibility, he had certainly learned how to cook during the process. From aperitif to dessert, he either already knew how to do it or had the tools to learn how to do it. And do it better.