Kiss Me

by Joseph James Hunt

  “The only thing I need in my life that begins with a K, is the Kardashians.”

  He laughed. “Exactly, I need you, Blake.”

  TWENTY

  Wine and dine

  Nothing is permanent, except the regret of not trying and missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. That is permanent, and it will stay with you forever, plague your every thought and feeling, it will suck joy from everything, and colours will appear overcast in a haze. The colour of Blake’s dreams had been hazy, colour-drained grainy motion pictures, carrying a reoccurring Singin’ in the Rain sequence with Carrie Fisher, tap dancing across his skull.

  Chris kissed Blake awake. It had been four weeks since they’d reacquainted themselves with each other, and they were inseparable.

  “What? I’m awake?” Blake groaned, pulling his pillow from beneath his head and throwing it at Chris.

  Chris stood beside him, with the pillow in hand. “I made pancakes, they’re on the table, and I’m gonna be late for work, so I’ll see you later.”

  Blake opened his crusted eyes to see Chris. “Okay, but I’m cooking dinner at mine tonight.”

  Chris kissed him on the cheek once again. “I remember.”

  “Good. Love you.”

  “Love you.”

  Blake snuggled inside the duvet for a moment longer, listening as the door shut. It was a benefit, having a boyfriend who lived close to work, it meant getting an extra fifteen minutes to lie-in bed and stretch, except this morning, Blake threw his pillow trying to snooze his alarm.

  He woke five minutes later to Ava, ringing the doorbell.

  “Okay, okay.”

  He rushed through the apartment to the front door, wrapping a nightgown around himself. “I’m coming.”

  Ava was one step away from having a key to Chris’ place as well as a key to Blake’s apartment. She walked in completely dressed, and gave Blake a once over, the look in her eye that screamed, get dressed right now.

  They walked through to the kitchen.

  Chris already set two place settings out on the table, and squirted two names out in caramel sauce. Ava and Blake, in nice fancy calligraphy.

  “I saw him on my way,” Ava said, taking a seat. “I’ve never seen him so happy.”

  Blake chuckled, already cramming a pancake in his mouth. “I’m sure they’ll be firing him if he doesn’t deliver his usual film critic stuff, all that viral clickbait press.”

  “I heard from Gloria, they might have found someone to buy the magazine.”

  Blake took a sip of water to lubricate his throat and keep from choking. “What?”

  “Yeah, Gloria sat in one of the meetings taking notes, apparently, like you said, they’re going to strip the company out and use all the best writers, then let the others go.”

  “What about Ruby?”

  She smiled. “She’s on maternity, after giving birth to her nine-pound baby, I think she needs the time to let herself recover.”

  “I’m eating.” He groaned.

  “I don’t need baby talk, but that means they can’t fire her.”

  Blake shrugged. “I’m sure some woman’s mag will pick her up, like, look at her, she’s basically made to write female fluff pieces, the baby ones where all they talk about is how their baby took their first step or whatever, I don’t know what babies do.”

  “Or their first selfie,” she chimed in.

  “Exactly.”

  They finished eating and while Blake dressed, Ava read out from a to-do list she’d compiled. “You’re in a meeting with Marcus until ten, discussing the March issue, you should have copies of the February issue on your desk, which is your first two-page spread, then you have a page in the back welcoming you into the team. You also told me to remind you to visit Lee in printing, but you wouldn’t tell me what for, I have something here about reminding you to buy wine, and ingredients to make something easy, you literally said, something easy, if you want, I can go through recipes and pick out somethings.”

  Blake poked his head out of the bedroom door. “I want it to be special.”

  “Is it like a three-week anni—”

  “No.” He grinned. “I just wanted to do something nice.” He pushed his head back inside.

  “Okay, well, I’d probably say bolognese.”

  “I want to have sex tonight, something light.”

  Ava coughed on her coffee. “Okay, what about chicken?”

  “What if I accidentally give him food poisoning?”

  “God, order in and pretend you did it.”

  He walked out, fully dressed. “No, I really want to do this.” He wore a pair of black skinny jeans and white shirt with a striped grey bowtie. He grabbed his blazer from a hanger and slipped his arms inside. “He’s this amazing cook, and I’m not, so I want to show how I’m getting better.”

  “Well, I say stick with chicken, get some salad, maybe tomatoes, serve with rice, or whatever you gay guys eat, what’s it called, quinoa?”

  “Quinoa is a high-fibre alternative.” Blake snapped his fingers.

  “And by that, you mean, it makes you shit a lot.”

  “All I’m saying is that it keeps for a healthy movement.”

  “Ew. Too much info.”

  The first proof copies of the February magazine were hot off the printing press. Marcus, the editor-in-chief and Gareth’s husband, headed the meeting where all the writers sat around the table as they went through the magazine together. The final revised copy of the magazine would be sent to print and distribution over the weekend, a full five days before February began.

  Marcus was a leaner guy with glasses. A little older than Gareth. He stood as all the writers piled into the meeting room. At each seat was a copy of the magazine. All the assistants were also given a copy, Ava sat beside Blake, while other general assistants took seats at the side of the meeting room.

  “I’d like to thank you all for such a great issue, and for welcoming some new faces, we have Blake, our new features writer, his assistant, Ava, and Kimberly, she’s an intern with us from a local university.” Marcus held the magazine. “This cover is fantastic, here we have Olympian, Gus Kenworthy and Noah Galvin from The Real O’Neals, the February issue, of course, as every magazine does, focuses on love, and the pieces we have in here are amazing.”

  They flicked through the magazine, looking at all the articles and advert pages throughout. One of the main sponsors was through condoms and lubricants, sponsoring and promoting safe sex for all.

  “Our newest feature, we have Blake’s Breakroom, and I’m so pleased with how it went. Funny story, we were in a meeting, with my husband, Gareth, and we had no idea where we going to take it, but Blake was full of wonderful ideas, and it gave us an insight into who Blake was, and ultimately, the kind of articles he wanted. We’re keeping with his signature, question and answer, and adding in some interviews and linking those with videos.” Marcus held a hand to Blake and clapped.

  Blake stood and took a slight bow, looking around at everyone as they clapped for him. “Thank you.”

  “Even wrote a small piece about your own quest for love, which was great, and approved across the board, I think readers would like to know more about you and your Prince Charming.”

  Blake chuckled. “Maybe I can see if he’ll visit for an interview.”

  “Perfect.”

  After the large meeting, and adjustments were made, including changing out one of Blake’s pictures in the article welcoming him to the magazine, everyone went to work on ideas for the next edition.

  “What’s next on my list?” Blake asked.

  “You need to see Lee, which you still won’t tell me about. What are you printing?”

  “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll look for recipes then.”

  “Great.”

  Lee worked in printing, they didn’t print in house, that was done externally. Lee printed mock copies, alongside photography stills, posters, a
nd anything else that was needed with the company logo.

  The printing room was on the second floor, beside the photography studio. Blake knocked on the door before walking inside to see Lee, stood over his desk with a magnifying glass pressed to his eyelid. He looked at a picture.

  “Blake!” he said. “Took some photos earlier, but they’re super grainy. Not printable, that’s for sure.” He pulled the glass from his eye.

  “I heard you had something for me?”

  “Oh, duh. I do, as requested, wrapped up.”

  Blake grinned. “Did you get a look at it?”

  He pulled out a brown parcel wrapped package. It was thick, approximately 5 inches in width by 8 inches in length. “Who’s it for?” He handed it over to Blake.

  “Someone special.”

  “It’s a perfect gift then.”

  “Thank you, I worked hard on it.”

  Ava sat at Blake’s desk, tapping her pen on the table and typing away with her free hand on his keyboard. He walked into the office with a large smile on his face. His new office was much larger, with a small sofa against the wall, a space to be used for regular naps, and to give a homely feel whenever he had people over, guests, and people for one-to-one live interviews.

  “So, is that it?” Ava asked, almost jumping across his desk to fight the parcel from his hands. “What is it? Tell me!”

  Blake closed the door. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, maybe.”

  “Tomorrow? Why? It’s for Chris, right?”

  Blake nodded. “So, what did you find?”

  “Chicken with rice and vegetables, depends on how spicy you want it.” She glanced at him.

  “Not quite so spicy.”

  She laughed. “Okay, well, I’ll print out a couple and you can go buy whatever you need, unless you want me to.”

  He fluttered his eyelashes at her. “Would you?”

  “I get paid either way. Which recipe?” She turned the screen in his direction.

  He shrugged. “Get enough for whichever I feel.” He stuck his hand inside his wallet and pulled out a card. “Here.” He handed her his bank card and a supermarket saver card. “And make sure they scan this so I get my points.”

  “Gotcha!”

  Ava left and Blake sat in his office chair, it was a happiness he hadn’t felt for a while, mixed in with the coming Spring air.

  Don’t forget, dinner at mine tonight. He sent to Chris.

  You’re working late, right? He texted Dannika.

  Yeah, giving you and lover boy some space. She replied.

  Absolutely. I look forward to it. Chris replied with multiple heart emojis.

  Chicken paired perfectly with white wine, specifically, a Pinot Grigio, Blake’s poison of choice. He’d cooked before, but in his life, it came rarely, but when it did, it was a spectacle to behold, and very few people had the pleasure of tasting his food.

  He was ready for six, when he told Chris be at his for. He’d prepared chicken, fried with fresh peppers; red and green, and plated with rice. There was a balsamic sauce, it was fancier than he’d expected it.

  Chris rang the doorbell and Blake appeared moments later with a glass of wine in hand.

  “What’s all this about?” Chris asked, welcoming Blake into his large beefy arms. He accepted the glass of wine.

  “I just wanted to show a little appreciation for my boyfriend, that’s all.”

  “You do that already.” He kissed him. “It smells delicious though.”

  Blake ushered Chris through to the dining room, pulling out the chair for him at the table. “Hopefully it tastes just as good as well.”

  “And I hope you don’t get food poisoning before your surprise.”

  Chris spanked Blake. “My surprise.”

  “No, that’s dessert.”

  Blake sat, and clinked wine glasses with Chris before they tucked into their food.

  “So—good,” Chris said between chewing.

  Blake swallowed. “You’re not just saying that because you’ve not eaten all day are you?”

  Chris shook his head. “Nope. It’s good.”

  They finished after twenty minutes, making small talk about their day and playing footsie beneath the table.

  “So, what’s this present.”

  Blake stood. “You’ll have to wait.”

  “Does it involve getting naked?”

  “No, unless you feel compelled.”

  Chris nodded as Blake left to his bedroom. He came back moments later with the wrapped package in his hands.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it.” He handed Chris the package.

  Like an excited child, Chris tore into the package to reveal a hardback book without any outward inscriptions. He turned it over in his hands to see the spine, the back, and front, but nothing. “What is it?”

  “Look inside.”

  He opened it, the title page read. A Kiss Beneath the Rain, and below it, by Blake Harris. Chris’ fingers quickly fumbled to the next page. For Chris, a man I fell for. “Oh, my god, is it?” he looked at Blake with tears in his eyes.

  “The book I was writing.”

  Chris pushed himself from his chair and leapt into Blake’s arms crushing him with a hug. “I didn’t know you were even still writing it.”

  “My editor at work went through it, and we had it bound, I wanted to give it to you as a thank you.”

  “Can I read it now?”

  Blake took the book. “I want to read the ending.”

  “Spoilers?”

  “But it’s my favourite part.” Blake led Chris through to the living area and sat him on the sofa, sitting beside him.

  “Okay.”

  Blake cleared his throat, his hands shaky as he opened the book. Chris pulled a hand into his and caressed it softly. “And through everything, I couldn’t tell him the three words on my tongue, at the back of my throat, the words that would solve everything, all the misery, all the pent-up aggression and masculine energy. I wanted to say, ‘I love you’.” A tear rolled from Blake’s cheek and dripped down his chin.

  “Aw, Blake.” Chris looked at him. “I love you.” He pressed his hand behind Blake’s neck and pushed to they’re lips together, kissing him.

  “This is my love story, for you.” Blake handed the book over. “Every time I think of you, I realise I almost lost you, and that’s what this book is.”

  “I don’t know how you managed this, but it’s amazing.” Chris caressed the side of Blake’s cheek, before tilting his head and kissing him again. “I’ve wanted to kiss you, hold you, be with you, and squeeze you. I’ve wanted that since you showed me, I’m wrong for wanting to hide myself, and I’m wrong now, for even thinking love was for people in books, and this is as real as anything I’ve ever touched.”

  “I love you.”

  “Kiss me, before I say anything else.”

  Blake complied, kissing Chris, over and over, pushing him back on the sofa.

  THE END

  Letter from the author

  Dear reader,

  Firstly, I want to thank you for reading KISS ME, my first gay romance novel. My sexuality is something I haven’t discussed openly, mainly because I’ve not always been 100% comfortable with it. I’ve attempted to write gay fiction under different names, but it always felt like I was wearing another mask, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.

  Writing gay romances has been something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and as a gay man, I was always placed in a position of straight couples in books, on TV, in every form, and that kept me in the closet longer than I should’ve been. Nobody should be made to feel like they’re in closet.

  My main reason for writing MM (gay) romance is because I want to breathe life into romance using characters I identify with, and I know so many other people will identify with these characters as well. They’re not stereotypes of gay men, which is something I saw used a lot when I was reading, and there’s no political agenda, because while LGBT people have
a history of fighting for equal treatment, this isn’t a dissertation on equality, rather more so, a demonstration of equality, providing a gay romance without the need to praise gay people and demonise straight people.

  I do want to outstretch my arms to the MM community, an amazing and supportive bunch of people.

  Tonya Polk, for her voracious reading abilities and believing in me at every step.

  Kerry Cook, for being awake super late and entertaining me.

  Also, I’d like to thank the attractive men of Madrid, Spain for providing inspiration, but more importantly, for allowing me to experience my first ever gay pride, and even more so, World Pride 2017. I feel completely blessed to have been part of it all.

  Finally, I hope you enjoyed the book, and if you have a spare minute, I would appreciate a review.

  Thank you for being fantastic, and for your support,

  Joseph James Hunt

  More Books by Joseph

  If you’re looking for another book to read:

  A Gay Coming Out / Romance

  RUMOUR HAS IT

  A forbidden gay romance by two love-struck teens. What’s the worst that can happen when you’re forced out of the closet?

  Read Joshua Martin’s story.

  A High School Romance

  PROM QUEEN OF DISASTER

  Nobody does drama like cheerleaders do. They’ll do anything to win.

  Every girl wants the crown at prom, and good girls always go bad.

  Read Zoey Jensen’s story.

  About the Author

  JOSEPH JAMES HUNT

  Born in Lancaster, England during the summer of 1993.

  A writer from a young age, stories have always played a huge part in HUNTs life.

  Forever reading and writing, telling stories aloud.

  Be ready to fall in love and exist in his dreams.