When Dean had agreed to work the pie booth at the university’s annual Summer Festival, he’d been under the impression that he’d be selling pie to festival attendees (and ideally enjoying some free samples between rushes).
Now, as yet another tin of whipped cream splattered across his face through the hollowed-out center of a plywood bullseye, he cursed himself for not having read the fine print.
Especially when it came to who he’d be working the booth with.
“That’s a good look on you, Dean-o,” drawled Gabriel as he handed a prize over to the exuberant kid who’d thrown the pie. “Bet it’s a bit sweeter than what you’re used to, though.”
Dean scoffed and reached for a towel to clean himself. “Bite me, Gabriel.”
“Maybe later, big boy,” replied Gabriel, waggling his eyebrows. “I got an awful big sweet tooth, you know.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Big sweet tooth” was putting it mildly. Gabriel lived in the dorm room across from Dean’s and was known for two things: his voracious appetite for sugary junk food and a propensity to flirt with just about anyone. As such, Dean was never certain if Gabriel was genuinely interested in him or just yanking his chain: given what Dean had gleaned of Gabriel’s personality in the nearly two months they’d been neighbors, the latter seemed equally if not more likely than the former.
Now, as Gabriel propped himself up to sit on the table with the remaining pies, eyeing him with an expression that could only be described as “wolfish”, Dean decided the time had finally come to call Gabriel’s bluff.
Slinging his towel over his shoulder, he walked over and sat next to Gabriel on the table, smiling as Gabriel’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Yeah, well,” said Dean conversationally, leaning back on his palms, “I guess that makes two of us. Question is,” he added, lowering his voice and raising a brow, “what’re we gonna do about it?”
Gabriel considered him for a moment before breaking out into a low chuckle. “Well, well, well,” he said, intrigue and approval evident in his tone, “look who finally decided to try his luck.”
Dean shrugged lightly and picked up a pie at his side. “I’ve been known to get lucky on occasion.” He used his finger to scoop up a dollop of whipped cream, which he brought halfway to his mouth before he paused, grinning. “Was kinda hoping tonight might be one of those nights.”
Gabriel’s gaze flickered from Dean’s finger to his mouth to his eyes. “Consider yourself a winner.”
“Awesome. So, what’d I win?”
“Hmm, well, seems to me you have a thing for sweets, so,” said Gabriel, grinning as his eyes traced a heated path down Dean’s body and back up again, “lucky me. Once we’re done here, what say you and I hit up the nearest ice cream parlor, then go back to my room for dessert?”
Dean let out a low hum and brought his finger to his mouth, cleaning off the whipped cream with a slow lick that caused Gabriel to swear under his breath. “Sweet.”