Second Opinion
“I need a second opinion,” said James out loud to nobody in particular as he stumbled around in circles looking for a victim.
Danny was in front of him, but James dared not disturb her as she concentrated on piping her mixture into the chocolate casing. He spun round and saw Sue, but she was talking to Cathryn and he didn’t want to interrupt their little interview. He turned again and his eyes locked on John, who had just put down a utensil and was about to move on to the next stage of the bake.
“John!” he breathed as he raced to John's bench with his piping bag full of marshmallow. “Would you try this for me please and tell me if you think I have whisked it enough?”
John frowned.
“I barely have enough time to make sure mine is alright and you want me to check yours?” he scoffed.
“Please?” James ducked his head and looked at John through his eyelashes, giving them a good few bats. He pouted as well, giving the best puppy dog expression he could muster.
“Oh well that’s not fair,” John replied in a low, husky voice, “you know full well that I can’t refuse you when you look at me like that.”
James flushed momentarily, the memory of what had happened in the shadow of the tree a few weeks ago still imprinted in his mind. The hot, sticky day, the removal of jumpers and shirts that were buttoned up too high, and the skin on skin contact that made James yearn for more.
John must have been thinking along the same lines because he, too, had colour on his cheeks. For a heartbeat they stayed as they were, gazing at each other with the memory of their passion, and the burning desire to repeat it.
Someone from another station dropped a saucepan and the crash brought them back to their senses. They were in a competition, and getting distracted would not help them win.
“Go on then,” said John as he straightened his back and stuck out his bare arm.
“Thank you,” James beamed. Carefully he hovered his piping bag over the back of John's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. A small heap of marshmallow was deposited on John’s skin. James’ first thought was how well it had come out of the tube. Not too thick so that it clogged up, but not too thin so that it was runny and dripping.
But the baker in him grinded to a halt when John went to try his concoction.
John's gaze was transfixed on James and it was so intense that James could not look away. John brought his hand to his mouth and then hesitated, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He opened his mouth and then engulfed the sweet mess in one great action.
James’ lips parted ever so slightly as he sucked air between his teeth, clenching his fists as he fought his animalistic urges.
John pulled back slightly and a white residue could still be seen on the back of his hand. But John did not miss this. Allowing just enough space so that James could see, he poked his pale pink tongue out and began to drag it slowly over his skin to lap up the remains. Every twist and turn was deliberate, and James had to keep reminding himself of the cameras everywhere so that he would not let out a moan.
When he was done, John dropped his hand to his side and grinned.
“Gorgeous,” he murmured, well aware of the effect he had had on James, and pleased with it.
“What are you two up to then?” The boys jumped as Sue put her arm round James and looked between them.
“I was just trying James’ marshmallow,” said John innocently. James, however, looked like a rabbit in the headlights, like they had been caught out. “It’s very good.”
“Well you’ve only got an hour left so I suggest you spend less time helping James and more time focusing on your own marshmallow!” Taking the hint, James scooted back to his own station and tried to focus on the job in hand.
A couple of minutes later he couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a glance at John. He looked over his shoulder and caught John's eye. John winked back, making James blush violently.
*
As he collected his things at the end of a fairly successful day, James felt a hand on his back and turned to see John smiling down at him.
“Well done, you are going to be star baker tomorrow, I know it!”
“That would be nice; it is my birthday tomorrow so it would be a brilliant present.”
“It’s your birthday tomorrow?” James nodded and John lowered his eyelids, his voice suddenly becoming very suggestive. “Then I must think of an appropriate gift for you.”
“Oh there is only one thing I want from you,” James whispered, their noses almost touching. “I want what I saw today, except I want to be the one sucking that marshmallow off you, and not just off your hand.” John pulled a devilish grin.
“I'm sure that can be arranged.”