“Yes.” John nodded, kissing Mitch’s lips.
* * * *
“Why are you pulling in here?” Mitch asked when John pulled into a parking lot.
“Food.”
“But, I thought...”
All Mitch wanted to do was get home and make love to John in whatever ways the man would allow. Without John’s help, Mitch knew he wouldn’t have ventured out from his safe, cosy, but ultimately imprisoning world. He was pumped at finally moving forward, and he needed to show John just how much the man’s patience and kindness meant to him.
“Yes, I know,” John said, stroking Mitch’s cheek. The man seemed to do that a lot lately, and Mitch loved the affection the gesture conveyed. “I thought we should pick up some fast food. I’m hungry, and if the small amount of food you ate today is anything to go by—small by your standards—I imagine you’re hungry, too.”
Mitch took John’s hand and kissed the fingers. He could be affectionate, too. “I was nervous.”
John smiled. “But you’re not anymore?”