Free Get-Together Summer by Lotus Oakes Page B

punctuate the point to himself, he
wriggled his bare toes against the tile floor.
    "Whatever." Dirk shrugged. "Figure of speech." He
went back to his cooking, starting to hum again. He had a nice
voice, hovering somewhere between alto and tenor, not quite out of
range of hearing. Every now and then he half-mumbled a few words to
himself, as part of the song. Simon didn't recognize it.
    He remained where he was in the doorway, bracing his
shoulder against the frame as he watched Dirk move. It seemed
utterly effortless to him, checking the pan, grabbing dishes and
lining them with paper towels, avoiding the larger grease bubbles
popping in the heat. Today he was also dressed casually, with faded
gray sweatpants that rode low on his sharp hips, and a loose white
tanktop that rode up now and then when he stretched, exposing a
wide strip of dusky brown skin. Simon watched that until he caught
himself and forced himself to look away -- first down at Dirk's
feet (also bare, long and oddly elegant, along with the rest of
him), and then up at Dirk's face, which looked gently content.
     
    It was on the tip of his tongue to
say something more -- what about what had happened in the theater?
had he even noticed, did he care if he had? -- but he firmly pushed
that aside. Part of him considered starting that up again, maybe
going so far as to press bodily up against Dirk's back as he tended
to the bacon, but that was also something he couldn't allow himself. He'd sworn to
be better about
this, he thought at himself, with some small disgust. Actively
fantasizing was only going to cause him more trouble in the long
run.
    And yet ...
    He hugged his elbows a little more tightly and
continued to watch Dirk pull down more plates, deftly portioning
out servings for each -- and yet he was still a bit surprised when
Dirk turned to him, one eyebrow raised. "You want any?"
    "What?" He blinked, then blushed, shrugging one
shoulder up to his ear. "I guess."
    From the corner of one eye he could see Dirk's
dubious expression, but instead of commenting on it he went and
fetched a third plate. "Go get your cousin, then. She's still
lazing around."
    "Why me?" he protested, but turned anyway, shuffling
down the hallway and for the stairs. He took the stairs two at a
time, not unfolding his arms, and made his way to Haley's bedroom.
The door was slightly ajar, and he knocked once before peeking
in.
    The blankets were strewn haphazardly across the bed,
pooling at the corner and nearly dropping off. Haley was sprawled
on her back, one arm thrown over her head and the other draped
across her body, her fingers brushing her hip. One leg was bent up
at a coy angle, and the other was stretched out, toes loosely
curled. She wore a thin white nightgown that had hitched up all the
way to her hips; he could see the elastic band of her panties (also
white), barely more than a shadowed contrast against her skin. One
breast was half-exposed from her twisted position, but though he
could see the faint shadow where her nipple must be, he couldn't
see it outright properly.
    He knocked again, louder, unable to quite pull back
or look away. "Haley."
    She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut for a moment,
sighing, then rolled slowly to face him. The movement brought her
legs back together, creating a small shadowed vee, and pulled the
top of her nightgown down just fractionally, exposing more of the
creamy curve of her breasts. Simon swallowed hard and finally
stepped back out of the room, knocking for a third time, not quite
banging his fist against the door. "Haley! Breakfast's ready."
    "What," she groaned, her voice rich and husky with
sleep still. "Already?" He could hear rustling, and then the faint
thump of her feet on the floor. It took him a moment to realize she
was moving towards the door, but it swung open before him and he
found himself suddenly face-to-face with his sleepy-eyed,
tousle-haired cousin. She blinked at him with slow sleepiness, her
expression still soft,