Eli stood in Rowan’s kitchen three weeks later, watching him chop vegetables like it was the most normal thing in the world. The knife moved steady. Rowan’s sleeves were rolled up, forearms flexing with each cut. Eli’s tie was already loosened, jacket somewhere on the couch. He leaned against the counter, beer bottle cold in his hand, and tried not to stare too obviously.Rowan glanced up. “You’re quiet tonight.”Eli shrugged. “Long week.” He took a sip, set the bottle down. His fingers tapped the counter once, twice, then stopped. He stepped closer instead. Rowan put the knife down. Their eyes met. Eli reached out, brushed a stray piece of onion off Rowan’s shirt. His hand lingered.Rowan caught his wrist gently. “Come here.”Eli went. Rowan pulled him in, kissing him slow. No rush this time. Just mouths moving together, hands sliding under shirts, breathing each other in. Eli’s fingers found the buttons on Rowan’s shirt, working them open one by one. Rowan’s hands slid down Eli’s ba
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