It's late. Christos finishes preparing the fruit salad and covers it, sliding it into the refrigerator. Most nights Christos has taken to waiting for Alfonso, indulging himself by attending the performance only once or twice a week, typically on the slower nights. His lover usually comes home from the theatre hungry but not wanting anything heavy. And he comes home exhausted, the thought of which puts a frown onto Christos's lips. He understands a heavy work schedule, as well as a driven work ethic. But he misses when there was time for just them, for that brief shining time of rehearsal before the show opened, with its eight performances a week.
"I'm home," Alfonso calls out, letting himself into the penthouse, his jacket hung in the closet and his bag set by the door for tomorrow.
The frown melts into a smile and Christos goes to meet Alfonso in the foyer, wrapping him in a hug. "Hey," he says, easing back enough for a kiss.
"Hey," Alfonso smiles, brushing his lips over Christos's before deepening the kiss just a fraction. "How was your day?"
“Good. How was your show?” Christos strokes his fingers along Alfonso’s cheek.
"Muy buen," Alfonso says, appreciating that Christos always asks. "It went very smoothly tonight and we had a good audience. No cellphone incidents."
"Excellent. People are learning, finally," Christos chuckles. "Come, eat." He takes Alfonso's hand and draws him deeper into the penthouse.
"Yes, sir," Alfonso says with a smile, giving Christos's hand a squeeze as he follows him.
It still gives Christos a nearly animal satisfaction to feed Alfonso, though he's trying his best not to stuff him right out of his costume. He piles cut fruit onto a plate for his lover and takes a seat opposite at the small kitchen table.
Alfonso digs into his food, stomach grumbling, the dinner he grabbed earlier not nearly enough to carry him through the evening's performance. "Mm. This is good," he mumbles, trying not to speak with his mouth full. "Gracias."
"You're welcome. Don't worry, there's more," Christos tells him with a smile, and helps himself to a few luscious strawberries.
"Did you eat already?" Alfonso asks, taking a break to drink some water.
"Yeah. Sorry, I couldn't wait. Too hungry," Christos explains. "I ran twelve K today. Trying to build up my endurance for further." Although he's getting very bored of the treadmill and hopes for cooler weather soon.
"That's great," Alfonso says with a smile. "Was the gym busy?"
Christos shrugs and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a beautiful gym, I think I must only be using it during the off-hours. I like it that way. No one to compete with for the weights."
"I'll join you on the weekend," Alfonso promises. "Unless you'd rather not have the competition," he teases with a wink.
"Ha. I'd love the competition if it's you," Christos replies. "We can work out together." Reaching under the table, he slides his hand up Alfonso's thigh.
"For that kind of workout, it had better be at Citadel," Alfonso says with a grin, glancing downward.
"Maybe we'll skip the gym," Christos murmurs, beginning to stroke Alfonso through his trousers. God, he's horny. He's been bouncing off the walls with frenetic energy all damn day, hence the excessive exercise.
"I need a shower," Alfonso says, although he can't help how his body's responding to Christos's touch. "I didn't have one at the theatre. I just wanted to get home."
"Shower sounds good. I'll scrub your back," Christos says, releasing him and getting to his feet. He swiftly wraps up the remains of the fruit salad and sticks it back into the fridge, giving his lover a little headstart.
Alfonso's stripped down, the water turned on and towels put out, when Christos joins him. He's exhausted, his brain shutting down, but he knows Christos deserves him putting some effort into his time at home.
"God, you're beautiful," Christos murmurs, knowing he's unlikely to be heard over the pounding spray. It doesn't matter, really; he's got every intention of showing his appreciation for his lover's gorgeous body. He leaves his clothing puddled on the floor and steps into the shower, immediately reaching to wrap Alfonso in his arms.
"Hola," Alfonso murmurs, pressing close, his face tipped up for a kiss.
"Hola." Picking up the soap Christos lathers his hands and slides them over Alfonso's back, tracing the muscles with his fingertips as he delves into his mouth.
Alfonso moans into the kiss, deepening it, his body responding to the touches.
Christos keeps moving his hands, nominally washing his lover but moreso taking in the physical beauty of his body. Touching him everywhere, his cock hard and pressed to Alfonso's thigh.
"I'm clean," Alfonso whispers with a smile, brushing his lips over Christos's, one hand dropping to his lover's cock, stroking him. "You should fuck me. If we get into bed, I'm going to fall asleep."
Cupping Alfonso's chin, Christos kisses him harder. He reaches for the bottle of waterproof lubricant that sits in its now-customary place on the shower shelf, and a wicked thrill goes through him at the reminder that he doesn't have to bother with a condom. He's still getting used to that: the amazing drag of skin against skin, naked and vulnerable and overwhelming. With slick fingers he opens his lover up, turning Alfonso to face the wall. "Brace yourself," he says quietly against his lover's ear, spreading his fingers apart and making room for the head of his cock.
There's a soft grunt as Alfonso struggles to adjust, even with the prep of those fingers, exhaustion making all his body's reactions slower. But he braces his hands against the tile, shifting his legs wider and firming up his stance. "Te amo," he whispers.
God, that just melts Christos. "Te amo," he whispers back, flicking his tongue over Alfonso's earlobe. Working deeper inside him with each shallow thrust until it's a full claiming, one hand reaching around to grasp Alfonso's cock and begin stroking.
"Mierda," Alfonso moans, head dropping between his shoulders, his hips canting into Christos's thrusts, caught between hand and cock and how good it all feels.
"Come for me anytime," Christos tells him, lightly biting Alfonso's shoulder even as he thrusts harder.
It doesn't take much more than that. Permission and a couple more thrusts and Alfonso's crying out, semen spattering the tile in front and below him.
Christos swears in Greek when Alfonso's body clamps tightly around him. Easy, easy... then he can thrust again, pounding mercilessly into his lover until he spills hot inside him. Nothing between them.
Alfonso drops a hand from the wall, reaching behind him to touch Christos's hip. Keep his lover deep inside him.
"My love." Christos sighs the words in Alfonso's wet hair, and hugs him back against his body. He swipes his hand down his lover's chest to his groin, cleaning him up that last little bit, then shuts off the taps. "Bed for you," he says with mock sternness.
"Si, senor," Alfonso says with a smile and a kiss, easing away to grab their towels.
Christos scrubs himself down with the towel, admiring Alfonso's naked ass -- even perfectly sated, he can't get enough of this man. He drapes their towels over the bar and follows his lover into the bedroom. "You'll sleep well?"
Alfonso nods, any remaining adrenaline fading quickly as he climbs between the covers. "I might even sleep in," he murmurs, a rarity for him.
Slipping in behind him, Christos wraps himself around his lover with a smile. "Good. I'll be here when you wake."