All Ashton could smell was the scent of peaches for miles. He was out on the veranda. His feet were propped up, and he had a fresh mug of coffee waiting beside his newspaper. It was dawn. The sun's amber light graced the entire backyard as it rose from its hiding place behind the trees. The peach smell, though thick, was wonderful. It gave Ashton a nostalgic feeling. He remembered eating peaches on that very patio with an open book in his hands.
Ashton was pleased to see that the wonderful smell was coming from a pile of wet curls sticking to the neck of Luke Hemmings. Luke was humming lowly, newly showered and flushed a lovely pink. He was wearing a thin, white t-shirt that fell off his right shoulder. It exposed the freckles upon his shoulder blades. He looked hydrated, well-rested, beautiful.
Luke's sweet scent was the strongest when he sat across from Ashton at the small, breakfast table. It swirled through the morning air and into Ashton's nostrils. He smelled like a forest in Northern Italy.
"No coffee for me?" Luke asked. His voice was gentle.
"There's some left in the pot," Ashton chuckled. Luke gave him a whiny look and pouted.
"I can't be bothered to go get it," He reached for Ashton's mug.
"Too bad," Ashton teased. Luke rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
Ashton looked at Luke, and he noticed all the freckles upon his upturned nose. His eyes traced the curves of his lips, each symmetrical like of his cupid's bow. Luke had the most cherubic features. From his youthful cheeks to his calming voice, if the young man were a time of a day, he'd be the morning. And oh, was Ashton suddenly a morning person.
The older man got Luke his coffee. He even put cream and sugar in it for him. When their knuckles grazed, he felt a warmth only comparable to the sun. The honeyed, nectarine smell was the strongest then. Luke's delicate ringlets were coated in the breathable fruit. How could one person be so perfect?
Luke had only been living with Ashton for two weeks. He moved in to help Ashton save some money. Of course, Ashton had a crush on the boy before, but living with him only made his attractions grow.
See, if Ashton never let Luke move in, he would have never discovered that Luke wore panties. Sometimes, the boy would leave his door open and walk around the room in some tight lace. The first time Ashton witnessed the act, it was purely an accident. He got his very first glimpse of Luke's curvy body. His ass was like a peach, and oh. Ashton felt weak then. After that day, it became a habit to spy on Luke.
Some days, Ashton could've sworn Luke knew what he was doing. The way he bent over seemed way too menacing to be an unknowing act.
Ashton also would have never learned how clingy Luke could be. Luke had always been the clingy friend. He would hug Ashton and kiss his cheek. He was the sweetest boy Ashton had ever met, but when they were alone, all Luke wanted to do was touch.
If they weren't cuddling, they were playing footsie. If they couldn't hold hands, then their thighs would be touching.
It gave Ashton a headrush. Luke would crawl into Ashton's bed to avoid sleeping alone, and the older man liked to pretend they were a couple on those nights. He'd allow Luke to be the little spoon, cradling him in his arms until he fell asleep.
Once he finished his coffee, Luke wanted something sweet. His round hips shook in a circle as he walked to the kitchen. He tossed his bum in the air, searching the fridge for ice cream.
"Ashy?" Luke huffed.
"What, Lu?" Ashton put down his cup of coffee and newspaper. He looked in the house. Luke left the glass door to the veranda open.
