THE FOOD OF LOVE

5 -- CHAMPAGNE AND ROSES

Warning  --  bxb

Laurent was nervous, like really fucking anxious.  He had got dressed up like a dog's dinner for a night out with Larry before, but he knew what tonight would be.  What it would invariably lead to, what Larry was offering him.  What it meant to both of them, and it wasn't just dinner.  What they both felt, it was new and exciting and hopeful, and he hadn't felt that way in a very long time.  It had only been just over a couple of weeks since his other birthday dinner with his parents, but he was already head over heels, base over apex, ass over tit for this man.  And from what he could gather, Larry felt the same way.  

There was no dress code for this evening, per se, but he wanted to look nice for Larry.  He wanted to see the look in Larry's eyes, as he gazed at the best present he had ever unwrapped.  But the packaging, even though it would end up crumpled on the floor, no doubt, was still important.  So, tight, but not too tight black jeans, a baby soft camel cashmere sweater, his gold hoops, a heavy Cuban chain, and long, freshly done twists.  He'd even managed to get a cancellation for a mani-pedi, a skin condition, and a wax in all the appropriate places.  This gorgeous package all topped off with a knee length black Armani suit jacket.  He assessed, and reassessed.  He changed the Cuban for an outrageously large and ornate white gold cross, but then, remembering Larry was Jewish, and not even wanting to be remotely politically incorrect, he changed it for a less ostentatious gold chain instead.  

Tonight was not about flash, tonight was about substance.  What was substantial between them, and what could be.  How substantial Larry's dick was.  He knew already, he had felt it's weight in his hand, it's girth and length in his mouth, and he was impressed.  He definitely had big dick energy, they both did, and that's what Larry let the world see.  But what Laurent saw was a sweet, sometimes shy boy with a heart of gold, who only wanted someone to hold that heart in their hands, and cradle it, coddle it and nurture it, and love on it.  And all he wanted was to do the same for someone else in return.  The bravado, the tough guy, the temperamental chef, was a front, and he didn't let many people see otherwise.  To say Laurent was honoured to know the real Larry, was probably an understatement.   

Yup, he looked good enough to eat, but that was the idea, after all.  He glanced at his watch, it was 7 on the dot.  As if on cue, his door intercom buzzed. 

"Yes ?"  he smiled, expecting to hear Larry's voice crackle through the air.

"Your car is here, Mr Bourgeois"  he frowned, not only because he didn't recognise the voice, but that the voice wasn't Larry's.   

"Sorry, my ....... ?"

"Your car, sir.  Mr Fresser sent a car for you .... "  He wasn't kidding, was he ?  If this was just the beginning of the evening, he was glad he didn't have to work tomorrow.  

"I'll be right down".  A car.  He'd sent a car.   He ran down the stairs after grabbing his phone and his keys, wallet ?  No, he wouldn't need it.  As he walked down the plushly carpeted hallway to the building's large glass front door, nervously adjusting his jacket, he noticed the tall lean figure on the other side of the glass with his back to him.  The figure was wearing a beautifully cut suit that accentuated his ass in the most delicious way, the wide shoulders, the polished shoes, the magnificent fro bursting from his crown in all it's glory. 

As Laurent opened the door, his breath caught, and a smile beamed across his face as Larry turned to face him.  Smiles that would melt the iciest of hearts were directed at one another, as they looked each other up and down appreciatively.  Laurent gazed into Larry's face as he walked down the steps towards him.