Lazy Sundays (Lazy Days Book 1)

by K-lee Klein

  “Must be why your house is so clean,” Scott quipped, a tick in his left eyebrow more than likely giving away his amusement.

  With a snort Devon wrangled Scott until they were nose-to-nose. “What? You took me for a swine?”

  “Well,” Scott teased. “Not quite pig-like but this place is spotless, Devon. Seems she's also a good support for you too?” Scott brushed their foreheads together.

  “She's known me since I was a baby. It's like having a second mom.” The sadness in Devon’s voice broke Scott’s heart. He squeezed Devon’s arm.

  “That's really nice,” he said softly.

  The tender expression on Devon's face spoke volumes. “She takes care of me without me asking her to. Cleans up. Cooks when I'm home. Won't take a dime from me but I’ve found ways of thanking her properly. Gifts and subscriptions for things I know she likes. I sent her and my mom to Sicily last year for a month and I've already booked a cruise for her on her birthday in July.”

  Scott's heart thumped double time. “Careful Devastation. Your sweet side is showing.”

  Devon groaned and popped out his bottom lip. “Oh no. My poor reputation. You wouldn't dump a guy for being too sweet, would ya?”

  Scott hated the insecurity that reared its ugly head, especially in such a lighthearted moment. Devon had the most beautiful people in his life—familial and not. Devon was sweet. Devon was perfect. So why the heck was he even interested in Scott? He couldn't help easing away.

  “Please stop.” Devon's voice was firm but not heated. “I know what you’re doing, Scott, and please, please don’t.”

  “I'm, um, I'm not doing anything,” Scott murmured. Devon didn't sound angry, but he was most definitely frustrated with Scott. “I wasn't trying to upset you, yet I can't help thinking—“

  “I love you,” Devon stated with an exasperated huff and Scott abruptly couldn't breathe. “I love everything about you, even your habit of putting yourself down,” Devon continued. “Though I can honestly say I hope to change that particular tune.”

  Scott didn't know how to respond and all he managed was an offended yet pathetic, “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?” He averted his gaze and perched himself on the edge of the sofa.

  Devon crouched beside him. “Jesus, did I say that wrong?” He trailed his fingers over Scott's arm but barely touched. “I didn't mean to say I wanted you to change, Scott.” He looked truly upset. “You're not, you're not having a panic attack, are you?”

  Twining an arm around Devon's neck, Scott offered him a repentant grin. “No. I'm not…I'm not as good with news as you are. But—” He swallowed thickly, not sure how to proceed. A single tear escaped his eye and he swiped at it quickly.

  “But?” Devon encouraged.

  “I've never—no one has ever cared enough to want to change me, at least not to fit someone’s definition of who and what I should be.” That sounded off. Scott attempted to backtrack. “I mean my mother wanted me to be different from the moment I was born but not in a way that was healthy or even caring. My dad was too passive to stick up for me, but Mother was too much for even him, so I've never had…I've never had anyone be like—”

  Devon stopped Scott's rambling with a chaste kiss. He kneaded the muscles in Scott's neck and fifteen minutes passed with them sitting quietly, Devon kneeling beside the sofa with Scott wrapped around him, white-knuckling the back of Devon's shirt and burying his nose in his neck.

  “Thank you,” he said, when he finally lifted his head to peer into Devon's eyes again. “I'm…yeah, I'm okay. I think I'm really okay.” It sounded odd, even contrived, but Devon made him feel exactly like that—more than okay—and like he'd manage feeling that way for a while.

  Devon glided a hand down Scott's back. “I don't want to change you, Scott. I only want you to see you like I do. You're smart and kind and attractive.”

  It seemed that Scott had fulfilled his quota for intelligent thoughts for the day. “I, um, thanks?”

  He expected to be called out on his inarticulateness. Instead, Devon flashed an understanding smile. “I'm way too old to be sitting like this. Wanna give me a hand?” He cocked an eyebrow, one side of his mouth curled up like some demented Elvis, before Scott could reply. He squeezed Scott’s thighs. “Unless you’d like me to do some Valentine’s servicing while I’m down here.”

  The gasp that pushed up Scott’s throat nearly choked him. “Servicing? What are you…Dev! No!”

  His core reaction kicked in and though he didn’t mean to shove Devon, he didn’t mean to send him sprawling—again—but down he went full on laughing. “Jesus Christ,” Devon muttered with no heat, where he lay flat on his back, peering up at the ceiling. “What’d I say?” He tugged at Scott’s pantleg, still overcome with giggles.

  “You said…you can’t expect me to just—Maureen could come back any minute. What if she walked in?” He stopped babbling when Devon’s smile grew to cartoon proportions. He hadn’t even bothered to get off the floor and his goofiness was annoyingly contagious since Scott couldn't help returning the expression. He slid to the edge of the couch, grunting as he tried to pull Devon off the floor. Success was finally achieved when Devon tumbled with an “oof” onto the cushion beside him.

  “You’re the worst influence I’ve ever met,” Scott mumbled as Devon turned sideways and made himself at home half in Scott’s lap.

  He tucked a finger under Scott’s chin, eyes sparkling warmly when they were face-to-face again. He snuck a quick kiss and Scott beamed despite himself. “But Maureen just left—”

  “No!” Scott was hasty with the word, but his boyfriend’s stupid smirk didn’t waver. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “What?” Devon batted his long lashes but looked more devil than angel in that moment. “I’m just showing my appreciation for your—”

  “Devon!”

  “—sweet face.”

  Scott snorted, shoving Devon’s shoulder. “You’re so full of it.”

  Devon leaned in to kiss him; slow and tender. “I’m all angel, baby. Wings. Halo. The whole nine yards.”

  Scott smirked against his lips. “Crooked halo, broken wings, and the mind of a devil. Doesn’t sound like nine yards to me. That’s baseball, right?” He purposely paused to make sure Devon was paying attention. “I will say that your heart could definitely rival a holy spirit’s.”

  “Ahhh, you do love me,” Devon drawled. He pounced on Scott, straddling then pressing him to the sofa cushions. But rather than kissing him breathless, Scott was treated to the strongest bearhug ever. He seriously worried he’d burst. “I love you back.”

  “You don’t say,” Scott managed to mumble between gulps of air. Devon seemed heavier somehow. Not that Scott would ever think about complaining. “So besides wanting to put on a sex show in your living room, do we have other plans for the evening?”

  Devon released him and though Scott needed to breathe, he needed Devon in his arms more. So he reached for him again, enacting his own brand of awkward bear-hug.

  “Plotting our evening, are you?” Devon squeezed Scott back then nipped at his ear. “I guess you’re not much of a winger?”

  Scott huffed, lightly poking Devon’s chest. “I can wing with the best of them, though I’m not sure that’s even a proper verb.”

  “My mom would call you a treasure.” When Scott flushed and averted his gaze, Devon flicked the end of his nose. “That’s a compliment, sweetheart. Nothing wrong with who you are. At. All.”

  After managing to squirm from beneath Devon, Scott stretched his arms over his head and faked a jaw-snapping yawn to hide his embarrassment. He’d never known how to handle any kind of praise let alone from someone he cared so deeply for. “You’re such an annoyance…but fine. Winging is neither a thing I do nor one I consider a verb,” he admitted, ignoring Devon’s sappy sentiment “What I meant is what are we going to do for the rest of our Valentine’s Day?”

  Devon grinned at him. “I offered you a pretty good
option a few minutes—”

  “I’m not having sex with you when your guardian could walk in anytime.” Scott tugged his bottom lip between his teeth then added, “But I’m okay with going home if you, you know, have other plans tonight. I’ve had a great day. I think it was, um…one of the best I’ve ever had.”

  Devon looked at him sadly. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet and neither is our day. You’re not getting away that easy.” Scott was suddenly too embarrassed to meet his gaze, but Devon tucked a finger under his chin when Scott tried to look away. “You feel like watching a movie? Or napping? Napping is always an excellent option in the DuCaine household. Not to toot my own horn but I excel in that particular area.”

  “No!” The response was automatic and loud. That seemed to be the word of the night for Scott. “I meant that I don't need a nap. I don't…I don’t want to wreck our day any more than I already have.”

  Devon snorted against Scott’s head once he drew him closer. “And you think having a nap together will ruin everything?”

  “I guess I didn't realize napping could be part of a date,” Scott said. “I feel like you're upset with me about something I said.”

  “Not at all. I don't like anyone talking smack about my best guy. Plus, maybe I have big plans for the rest of the day that we need to rest up for? And for the record, this day has been perfect. Not sure why you think otherwise.”

  Scott considered the options for a moment. Why he’d suddenly become a blushing idiot unable to talk about his feelings with Devon was a frustrating mystery. But rather than pursue that potentially intense line of thinking, he avoided the whole thing. “Did you have a movie in mind? I've never Netflix and chill-ed before.” He arched a brow in hopes of lightening the mood again. Had he even said it right?

  “Ha! Netflix is definitely a plan, and I'm always chill with you,” Devon returned. He rubbed his hands together before climbing off Scott's lap. It was a shame he had to move but Scott planned on getting him back in position as soon as possible.

  “Charming your way into my pants again, are you?”

  Devon narrowed his eyes, licking his lips as he stared Scott down. “Is it working?”

  “You know it is…” Scott began. He forced himself to not get lost in Devon's aura, but it wasn't easy by any means. “But movie first, right? What did you have in mind?”

  “What do you like? We can do something nature-ish if you want.”

  Scott tutted at him. “It's Valentine's Day. Shouldn't we watch some sappy rom com?” Scott was mostly unfamiliar with V-Day etiquette and rom com suggestions, but the idea apparently wasn’t completely absurd since Devon's eyes lit up.

  “Awesome,” Devon said. He threw himself on the couch beside Scott, reaching for the numerous remotes on the side table. “Shit. I never remember which one it is.” He gnawed on the inside of his cheek while he studied the devices for a dozen seconds before grunting in frustration and pointing them one-by-one at the television. As was the norm in the scheme of life, the last one was the winner. He navigated to Netflix then scrolled. “Seen it. Nope, not that one. This one is really good but the romance in the first one was sexier. Maybe an older one would be better.”

  Scott sat back and let Devon have his fun. Eventually, he asked Scott’s opinion again. “How about we go old school?” Scott suggested. Not that he’d ever seen any rom coms, at least not in a bazillion years, at least not on purpose. And what he was thinking didn’t even fit in that particular category. “No. Wait. It’s probably a dumb idea.”

  “Dumb ideas, there are none.”

  Scott quirked a brow at Devon. “Yoda, really? I forgot who I was dealing with. Such a weirdo, but still, don't make fun of me, okay?” Devon crossed over his heart with a smug expression. Scott sighed heavily and said, “I think this is, maybe, a good snuggling Valentine’s Day movie. Um, do rockstars snuggle?” he asked sarcastically, knowing the answer tenfold throughout their time together. When Devon glared, Scott snickered and kept going. “Wanna snuggle and watch The Princess Bride?”

  Devon looked confused. “Sounds good. Why is that embarrassing? I've heard it's a good flick.”

  Scott gasped, mouth hanging open as he stared at Devon. “You've heard? Are you saying you haven't seen it?”

  “Yeah,” Devon said with a frown. “Why's that—”

  “I'm in shock. Get me a paper bag to breathe into.”

  Devon vaulted off the sofa, but Scott grabbed his arm. “Dev?”

  “Are you having a—I thought you were having a panic attack.”

  The worry on Devon’s face made Scott feel like a heel. “I'm sorry,” he apologized. “ I shouldn't have said that. But Dev, seriously? A gay man who hasn't seen The Princess Bride? They're going to take your gay card away.”

  “I have no excuse.” Devon poked Scott's cheek. “Not gonna break up with me now, are you?” he teased.

  Scott regarded him smugly, pursing his lips. “I might have to sleep on it.”

  Devon clapped a hand over his heart, the back of his other hand pressed histrionically to his forehead. “Oh no. Please kind sir. Do not reject me for this slight. I will do anything to make up for my bad behavior.”

  “First of all,” Scott began after a moment. “Dramatic much?”

  “I do have a degree in acting, you know,” Devon said matter-of-factly, grin taking over his amused face.

  Scott gaped again. “You have a degree—okay, we'll talk about that another time. I just can’t with you. Now, where was 1? Oh, secondly…never mind. You'd do anything, huh? I like the sound of that. Maybe for later.”

  “Princess Bride and cuddles. I'm down for that.” Devon kissed Scott chastely on the cheek. “But for our next selection, I’d like to request Sleepless in Seattle or You've Got Mail or even When Harry Met Sally.”

  “Do you have a thing for Meg Ryan?” Scott teased, so amused he thought his heart might stop. Devon was certainly well-rounded.

  “Back in the day, I definitely did. She was adorable.” Devon shrugged and though he didn't say it out loud, Scott thought he was even more adorable.

  “Let's put Sleepless next on the list then. I can always use a Tom Hanks fix,” Scott decided. He settled back against the cushy sofa, curling one leg under him and sipping from his tepid bottle.

  “Good choice,” Devon said. He disappeared into the kitchen again, returning with two glasses and a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” he asked.

  He handed Scott a glass with a wink.

  Scott waggled his beer at him. “Mixing our drinks, are we?” He drained the last drops then handed the bottle to Devon.

  “Take a look at the bottle. I should get some cred for that.”

  Leaning forward, Scott gaped and squinted at Devon. “This is expensive. Like special occasion expensive.”

  “Hello? V-Day.” Devon shook his head but offered his own glass for a toast. “To many more Valentine's Days.”

  “And crazy hat days?”

  “Best shark hat ever.”

  They clinked glasses, then sealed the toast with a kiss.

  When Scott groaned it sent shivers down Devon's spine. “This is heaven in a bottle,” Scott marveled. Devon didn't have a palette for wine but if Scott liked it. “This was the perfect day, Dev,” Scott said softly. “Thank you.”

  Then with Devon tucked close, one knee pressed tight to Scott's thigh and wine glasses in hand, they settled in to watch the classic. The bag of chips ended up squished between them, but they snacked on them nonetheless, their noisy crunching echoed alongside the movie voices. They chuckled at the same parts, even a roaring cackle or two, and Devon even got teary-eyed once or twice. Pride bloomed in Scott’s chest because he was pretty sure he’d turned Devon into a fan of the film and that was simply everything.

  After a pee break, Devon ordered pizza and they moved seamlessly into Sleepless in Seattle. Scott did recall seeing the film when it first came out, but it certainly hadn't evoked such a strong emotional reaction from him bac
k then. Yet he wasn't ashamed to be sniffling beside Devon who had moved from silent tears to gentle sobs. Scott pulled him closer, consoling him with a kiss on his cheek before tipping their heads so they touched. The entirety of the wine magically disappeared by the middle of the movie, and they shoved the wine glasses, pizza napkins, and rumpled chip packages onto the coffee table then settled more comfortably against each other.

  By the final credits, Scott’s eyelids were heavy. Devon leaned into him. “Ready for that nap, sleepy-head?”

  Devon wanted to nap? What sweet hell had Scott sunk into? Nonetheless, he loved the idea. “I guess I could nap.” He still thought it was an odd thing to do on a date, unless—was nap code for something else in Devon's world?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Pizza boxes, empty beer bottles, and the abandoned empty bottle of red were ignored as they climbed off the couch, moaning and stretching like two old men. Scott started to gather up their mess, but Devon stopped him with a squeeze to his waist.

  “After,” he insisted. “Come on. I'll show you my room where all the magic happens. “

  Scott opened his mouth but instead of another excuse or apology, all he managed was a chuckle. “Magic? Seriously? Do people actually talk like that?”

  “Shush grasshopper,” Devon hissed. “No magic anywhere but with you, but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

  “Now you’re even mixing up your quotes.”

  What followed was Devon's version of a quick Open House tour as he guided Scott along by the hand.

  “First we have the kitchen,” Devon extoled with a sweep of his arm. “Notice the modern feel. Granite countertops to match the shiny granite floors that don't show a lick of dirt no matter how hard I try to muddy them up. The cupboards were made custom all the way from Tibet and designed with only the best Tibetan wood. Not to be confused with a much stronger, more virile wood from the rare Sicilian-American tree.”

  Scott barked an unintentional laugh. “Have I mentioned lately how weird you are?”