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Innamorato; Passionflower <3
Topic Started: Apr 10 2010, 08:22 PM (2,569 Views)
passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
As Sal moved away from him, Thomas suddenly felt like a sweep of cold air had hit him. The blond took the warmth with him, leaving the Brit chilled. His hands rubbed up and down his forearms a bit, as he directed his attention from Sal to the sauce and ladle.

Though before they could add sauce, Sal had to grab out some pans to cook the pies in. He then watched and listened as Sal demonstrated how to ladle on one spoonful onto the crust. At the center and then circling out, using the bottom of the ladle to do so. Follow suit, he took the ladle and got it full of the sauce, slowly poured it onto the center and went about circling the crust and spreading it with the butt of the ladle.

Next came the cheese, once Thomas was done. He watched as Sal laid out the discs of mozzarella. He got a handful himself and placed them over the sauce. The normally amiable Brit had gone quiet as they worked. Although his hands were working away, his mind kept... going back to that moment. Sal behind him, hands on his own, and lips... brushing his nape. A little shiver passed over him, as his body quickly recalled the sensation. Silently his eyes went to the little gold band still on his finger. He frowned a bit to himself. Ironic he'd allow those touches when he'd just gone to visit his dead lover's grave. And with his still living brother no less. He felt... kind of dirty, almost like he were cheating... or down right dishonoring Paul. It wasn't like he was engaged anymore. But...

No, it was too soon. And... not his brother. Couldn't be his brother. His brows furrowed a bit. Was Sal just that damn shameless? Going after him because he was single and present? He'd just been watching and holding the other man as he cried in his shoulder. He knew he loved his brother. So why? ... Why would he do something like that?

He reached for the toppings he'd requested and that Sal had gotten for him. He put pieces of chicken, olives, onion and mushrooms all over his pizza. His eyes remained set on the pie, but a faintly sick feeling had overcome his stomach.

Even worse was he'd enjoyed it. Those touches, the warmth. It'd felt good. Comfortable. If the circumstances were different, he could have easily lost himself in those touches. He almost had... Thomas wasn't sure who he was more angry at. Sal or himself...

Finished with his toppings, he let out a little sigh. "... Into the oven now?" he asked.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal nodded once Thomas had as much of everything he wanted on his pizza. He opened the door of the warm, wide oven and a gust of heat washed out over him as he did. No wonder he became a dirty, sweating mess at the end of the day – having open up that thing again and again and again all day long would make a mess out of anyone. Next, with a large, wooden pizza spatula, Sal slid each pizza into the mouth of the oven and onto the rack inside to be cooked. He shut the door and now they just had to wait.

The blond sighed, hyperaware of the man behind the counter with him. Hyperaware of the quiet that had fallen over them, a kind of tension… heavy thinking. Sal couldn’t practically feel Thomas thinking and thinking and thinking just off to the side of him. And he was fairly certain he wasn’t thinking about the previous moments with a happy heart or a smile.

Trying to avoid the tension, Sal moved a bit down the kitchen area to a little rack of wine under one of the counters. He pawed through them, crouched while he looked, and finally chose one for them. He snagged some glasses in a cabinet next to the wine and rose with his finds, bringing them back over to the silent brunet. He also had a towel with him, wiping off his hands a bit and handing the cloth of for Thomas to do the same.

Pulling the cork out of the bottle, Sal filled their gasses. He picked his own and took a swallow, eyes on the empty tables out beyond the counters and mind running circle in his head. As amazing as it had been to have the other man in his arms and against his chest, under his lips, Sal felt like he’d ruined something… Thomas was too quiet. Sal hated it.

“Look…” he began, leaning on the counter and flexing his hands around his glass of wine as he frowned down into the deep red liquid within. He swallowed hard, back and shoulders tense to the point of almost shaking. “I’m sorry.”

His voice was quiet. Low. And he couldn’t believe how scared he was. Thomas was too quiet and it scared him. Feeling like he’d ruined everything with a few touches and a kiss or two against the man’s neck. It scared him. He didn’t like it and his entire body strained, desperate to fix whatever he’d messed up.

“I didn’t… I was…” he shook his head, had no idea what he was trying to say. “I don’t know… what came over me. I was… I’m sorry, Thomas. I’m sorry. Just… will you please talk?” He chuckled shakily, “I mean scream at me. Cuss me left and right. Anything, I don’t care.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas mildly noted when Sal went for the wine caddy beneath one of the counters. He watched him bend over and pull out one of the bottles. Soon two glasses were poured. Silently, the brunet took his. He admired the passionate red liquid. Though he was too distracted to fully enjoy the lovely drink with his usual wine tasting habits. He brought the glass to his lips and took a few hearty gulps.

The glass lowered as Sal began to speak. Thomas had turned to look out at the empty restaurant, and the street that laid beyond the window. A few cars passed, back and forth.

Sal was sorry. Sorry for what he'd done, what had happened. For the embrace and the kiss. Thomas wasn't sure if an apology was really what he wanted. He was still quiet a moment or two, even after Sal pleaded that he say something. Anything. Nice or otherwise. Cussing or screaming. Something.He set his glass down on the counter.

"... I'm sure that was some... natural inclination of yours, huh?" he spoke finally. His arms folded over his chest. He couldn't look at Sal. Not because of disgust. Just... his own fright.

As far as Thomas knew, Sal was loose. Likely he flirted with anyone who tickled his fancy. He supposed he counted amongst that group. The best he could assume was Sal had been on auto pilot. And had ended up ramming head first into the oncoming traffic.

Thomas cleared his throat, as his hand came up, and rested over his mouth, rubbing a bit. "... I don't do one night stands so..." he smirked faintly then, and shook his head. He picked up his glass and downed the last of the wine in it before glancing over to the blond. "You're barking up the wrong tree."

He'd been upset, but when he came to accept it under those terms... he felt a bit better. Sal had had a mental fuck up. That was all it was. Nothing more.

But still... how soft he'd been. Was he just good at playing the part when hooking someone? Thomas didn't know...
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
He was glad when Thomas spoke again, exhaling with relief as he did, but… in the end, Sal just tensed ten fold. He’d wanted Thomas to talk, but what the brunet said… Sal was almost startled by how violently some unnamable thing within him reared its head in an uproar of vehement protest. The blond kept his eyes on the glass of wine in front of him while the other man spoke, feeling his chest twist tighter and tighter with each word.

“Actually, no. No it wasn’t some ‘natural inclination’ of mine,” he mimicked the Brit’s tone and accent around the words. Defensive. He actually felt anger bubble up in his stomach and into his throat, like bile – sudden and something he honestly wasn’t familiar with, or at all prepared for.

Mouth taunt and jaw working restlessly, Sal knocked back the rest of the wine in his glass and refilled it with jerking hands. He glared into the glass while the blood-red liquid poured from the bottle. “I get that how I am… the way I act, might come off, sorta, I don’t know…” He pointed an accusing finger over at the man. “Hell, yeah I do. You just said it. You think I’m a whore, is what you think. That I fuck whatever moves or some shit, and fine… yah, maybe I might be. Whatever. Think whatever the fuck you want, I won’t argue that. I do like sex. I enjoy. I get it where I can, and I don’t discriminate. At all. Compared to you, yah, I’m probably a whore. I get it.”

Setting the bottle back down on the counter with a hard thump, Sal gripped his glass in tight knuckles. “But whatever. Fuck you, ok. Just fuck you.” He shook his head, throat flushing with his agitation. “I wasn’t barkin’ up any tree. I wasn’t tryin’ to seduce you and I wasn’t aimin’ for a one-night stand. I don’t know what I was aimin’ for, but it wasn’t that. And you wouldn’t have been one, ok? One-night stands are for people you don’t give two shits about. So, sorry. I’m sorry if I upset you, I’m sorry. But don’t fuckin’ tell me that whatever it was, whatever I was doing or why, don’t put it down as whoring for a quick fix fling. You’re better than that, you ass.”

Sipping at his drink, he started moving again, unable to keep himself still. He set down his glass, flexed his fingers around it, picked up the towel, set it back down, turned one way then leant on the counter. He straightened, crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and then finally went to the oven to check in on the pizza. He glared in on the baking pies, jaw clenched and lips thin, brow furrowed tight over blue eyes.

He was startled by himself, by the offence he’d taken. It’d just… it’d set him off like he never would have expected. Had never experienced before. Hearing Thomas accuse him of fishing for a one night fling, accusing him of placing the brunet on level with a pick up, call up whore… it’d pissed him off. Made him want to throw stuff and yell. It made him seriously mad.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas bristled noticeably as Sal let that rough animal within him come roaring out. His eyes flicked over, to watch the train wreck happen. He couldn't look away, despite how badly he wanted to. An accusing gesture. Stormy blue eyes. Maybe he had overstepped a boundary... by calling the other man a whore (in a round about fashion of course). Initially, when hearing him attempt to explain himself, Thomas was tempted to be upset. His words were filled with filth, curse words. But perhaps it was justified. He could tell, quite easily, how upset he'd ended up making the blond. A tinge of guilt filled his chest at that. They'd been having a nice time too... And then all the sudden it was shot to Hell.

The Brit didn't say anything right away, as he tried to absorb all the words that were spat venomously from the blond's lips. He wasn't looking for a one night stand. Not from Thomas anyways. And the truth of the matter was, he didn't know what the hell he'd been aiming for. Plus, the fact Thomas had dared to suggest that Sal had expected a fling from him had been an insult, not just to Sal but to himself. Sal didn't see him as that. And by definition of what the blond claimed was one-night-stand material (someone you don't give two shits about)... then that was his way of saying he mattered to the angry man before him.

But how had that come to happen? ... He'd only known Sal maybe a week at this point. They'd had Brunch. And dinner, at Sal's apartment. They'd visited Paul's grave. And now they'd been making pizza together. And somewhere along the line... it appeared Thomas had wriggled his way under the blond's skin, without even trying...

Thomas watched Sal down the last of his wine before pouring another cup and soon going to check up on the pizza's. He flicked his eyes away, shortly, as he looked down. His brows furrowed a bit as he closed his eyes a moment or two.

Eventually, Sal felt a gentle, long fingered hand rest on his upper arm. A light touch, to get his attention. Thomas stood behind and a little beside him, near the oven. "... I'm sorry too. Sorry for... insulting you." Thomas murmured quietly, sincerely. He cleared his throat then.

"... What happened a few moments ago... I think is best forgotten. Don't you think so? ... We were having a nice time. And I'd rather get a bite of that pizza without the sour taste of guilt and upset in my mouth. I don't know about you," he smiled a little. His hand slid down, to rest at his side. "Please...?"
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal couldn’t explain it, and quite frankly, he didn’t even want to try. He barely knew Thomas Hayward; they’d interacted for all of one week now. But maybe that was the point. He’d seen the brunet a couple times now, spent civil time with him over the course of a week, and he wasn’t sick of him. He wasn’t itching to get away. He actually enjoyed being around him, listening to him and watching him. He’d come to care about him, somehow. Impossibly. But he had. It mattered that Thomas seemed to think… maybe not little of him, but expect so little from him. That he thought he’d reduce the brunet to a simple, mindless, worthless thing. Material. In all honestly, Thomas had every right to think that… but Sal wasn’t interested in justification. It wounded him anyway.

The touch on his arm. He’d been pretty sure he hadn’t wanted Thomas anywhere near him at the moment; he was too high-strung, too angry. He was certain he’d do something or say something he’d really regret if Thomas touched him now… but it’d actually helped. Some tension melted out of him under long fingers and a warm palm, the bristling, sparking anger cooled to a bearable level when Thomas’ hand touched his skin.

Sal sighed and let his head hang, arms limp at his sides. He slanted eyes over at the other man, not lifting his head, listening to the quiet, sincere apology. He nodded, but didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t have known what to say even if he’d tried. And the murmured words didn’t actually fix anything, but… it helped. Like the hand on his arm.

Best forgotten. Sal frowned at that. It was best forgotten? Sal wasn’t so sure. Or, well, yes it probably was for the best if it was all forgotten and they just moved on. But Sal wasn’t so sure he wanted to forget about it. It had been so different for him. He’d never felt like he had in that moment before and he’d liked it. He wanted it. But clearly, Thomas did not.

Sal licked his bottom lip, lifting and turning his head to look the man in the eye as the hand slid off his arm. Thomas had a smile on, small, but there. And he was asking please. This was what he wanted, he wanted to forget it. And really… Sal couldn’t blame him. Especially if all it was to the brunet was a horny, whorish guy instinctively making a move on another warm body, and nothing more. And despite the apology, that was exactly what it had been to Thomas. That’s what he was to the other man. And boy, but that hurt like a bitch. Stung. But it was his own fault, Sal knew.

“Yah… yah sure,” he agreed in the end, nodding. If Thomas wanted it forgotten, he’d play the part the brunet wanted from him. Sal knew better than to think he’d actually forget, since he didn’t want to, but he’d play the part. For Thomas. He'd be the friend, the pseudo family, the almost brother in-law, the sibling to the dead fiancee... he'd be whatever Thomas wanted him to be.

Sal wouldn't let himself think to hard on that crazy little realization, but it was true. He'd be whatever Thomas needed him to be.

“Of course we can,” he put on a matching little smile and nodded again. He looked back at the oven, sighing and forcing the sound to be light and not massively disappointed or hurt. He cleared his throat and nodded his chin at the oven, “Pizzas should be ready in 5. There are some big paper plates stacked over there…” he gestured down the kitchen from them. “Wanna grab two for us?”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas felt a little bit of relief for the tension that had mounted in his own body during those moments. His smile grew a bit, but he said nothing more on the issue. It was done. Closed... as far as he was concerned. No reason to dwell on it.

When directed to get some plates, Thomas gave a nod, and he turned to grab said plates from where Sal pointed. He pulled out two, and slid them onto the counter. He picked up the wine bottle then, and poured himself another glass. He could go for... a little buzz right then. Not that Thomas typically got buzzed or drunk often, but right now... it seemed pretty fitting. Helpful even. Help him forget. And just further ease up the situation. He took a long healthy gulp of the red wine, as he stole a glance to the label.

With five minutes to burn, Thomas glanced about the kitchen quietly. It wasn't so awkward or tense, which was good. Just... a curious silence. That was till his eyes rested on some of the chilled dough. A hint of a smile played over his lips, as he set his glass down, and knelt to grab up a ball of dough from the cooler. He spared a glance to Sal, then looked back to the dough. With his new 'skillz' he soon had a medium sized disc. But he wasn't planning on making another pizza at the moment. His teeth sunk into his plush lower lip, as he dared to throw it up about a foot into the air, and he caught it in his hand. He glanced to Sal again.

"... you sure made all that twirling look effortless," he murmured as he threw the dough up again, attempting to spin it. And in what was probably the goofiest moment Sal had ever seen of the Brit, the brunet let out a startled gasp as the dough landed right on his face. He sputtered, and coughed up a bit of the flour. His face and hair were covered in the white powder as he took the dough off his face. "Bollocks...!" he cursed to himself between coughs.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal let things alone, crossing his arms over his chest and sliding his hands in under his arms. He leant back against the counter by their wine, across from the oven, waiting. The hollow feeling behind his lungs was so odd to him, so foreign. Thomas was happier now, more relaxed and at ease now that they’d agreed to forget the entire little incident while rolling out dough, and Sal was thankful for that. But he wasn’t happy. And if he was supposed to be, than eff that and screw who ever thought it. He’d been happy having Thomas in his arms and holding his hands, he’d been happy brushing kisses at the back of his neck and breathing him in. Being asked to forget about that… how could someone expect him to be happy about that?

He didn’t let on though. Like so many other things, he hid it away. He followed the other man’s curious observation around the kitchen and the dining room beyond the counters, watching him look around. And then watching him move to the cooler with the dough. Sal arched a blond brow as the brunet pulled out a ball and started stretching it out, not sure what exactly Thomas was doing, but not saying a word to stop him.

A bark of laughter burst out of him though moments later as Thomas attempted to toss the dough. And, unsurprisingly, failed. Sal laughed hard, eyes clenching shut and a hand raising to cover his face. He couldn’t help it, it’d been hilarious to watch the dough flop back down and land on the poor guy’s face. And, it’d been rather cute. But mostly hilarious.

“Nice try,” Sal chuckled as he straightened and came over to the brunet. He ruffled a hand over Thomas’ hair, messing it up, but also dislodging flour from the shaggy strands. “I’ve been tossin’ dough for fifteen years. I promise you, sweetheart, you’re not gonna get it from watchin’ one time.” He reached over and grabbed the towel, offering it to the brunet and taking the dough from him.

“You toss with your dominant hand, always. And you keep that hand flat under it, use your palm,” Sal started explaining without even being asked. He couldn’t help it – he liked sharing with Thomas. And he’d take what he could get. “Keep the other hand a fist. Usin’ your dominant hand, you bring it in and toss it up. Catchin’ it with both hands fisted.” He demonstrated, slowly for the brunet, smiling to himself as he did it. “That’s the basic toss. That’s what I had to learn first, before I could learn any of the flashy stuff.” He put the dough down on the counter and gestured at it, nodding his chin and grinning at the still slightly flour covered brunet. “Go on. Try that.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas glanced to the blond as he laughed at him, blatantly. A dusting of pink rose to his face and his brows furrowed a bit as he looked down at the dough. Though he was startled as Sal's hand ruffled his hair, causing some of the flour to flutter off the dark strands. He felt his body warm a bit at the affectionate touch. Ye gods his body was conflicting with his mind in those moments. He'd just told Sal off and here was getting ... warm.

He grabbed the nearby towel, and wiped off his face, before his attention went to Sal as the experienced pizza flipper and twirler went about explaining and demonstrating. He watched, as he was thankful for the attention to be taken off him and his flub up and put back onto the dough itself. His green eyes watched curiously as Sal showed him to catch with fists, to toss with his dominant hand, and a few other tips. Brushing his tongue over his lips, he tossed the dough again, and managed to catch it, though not before nearly dropping it. His lips pressed into a thin line, as he kept tossing up, not too high... not wanting to get dough in the face again.

Before long he had the pretty simple task of throwing up and catching down to an art. A smile came to his lips as he spared a glance to Sal. "I suppose if Med School doesn't work out I can always come work here," he chuckled softly. The oven gave a beep, signaling that it was time to take the pizza's out. Thomas looked over to the oven's, and then back to Sal, before grabbing the towel and cleaning up a bit. He sneezed a bit of left over flour tickled his nose.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal watched as Thomas figured it all out. He’d point out things here and there, have the brunet adjust his hold ever now and then. Ultimately though, he let Thomas do the work himself. He let the inquisitive, intelligent brunet learn by doing. Let him feel out the motions in the best way anyone could learn: by doing it himself. And it paid off. Sal wasn’t surprised either; Thomas was smart and he was quick. Before long, he had the basic mechanics of the toss down and Sal was grinning, a bit proud.

He huffed a little chuckle when Thomas suggested a possible job at Salvatore’s if the med school thing didn’t work out. Sal smiled, passing a look over the other man and gave a little nod. He reached out and patted a hand against the back of Thomas’ shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Sure. You’d always be welcome here, sweetheart.” The oven beeped and he looked over, releasing the other man’s shoulder.

Fetching the pizza spatula, Sal opened the oven and slid out their pizzas. Once they were lain out, he made quick work of slicing the pies and transferring them onto their plates. The cheese was oozing, the smell incredible, mouthwatering like pizza tended to be. Sal took both plates in hand and grinned at Thomas, nodding his head out towards the tables, “Grab our drinks?”

He moved out from the kitchen and picked one of the booths against the sidewall, setting Thomas’ plate to one side and his across from it. Sliding in onto the seat, Sal rubbed his hands together and grinned giddily at the man joining him across the table. “Look good? Gonna taste better, I promise you that. Always tastes better when you made it yourself.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas was smiling. He felt good again. Light-hearted. That weird bump in the road put behind them. He watched as Sal went about getting out their hot pies. He found his mouth indeed watering a bit as the pungent but delicious aroma of melted cheese, spices and tomatoes hit him full force. Putting the balled up dough away, Thomas gladly grabbed up the open bottle and their two glasses. He walked over to the table that Sal had picked out and he sat himself a seat across from the blond. He set down their glasses, then took it upon himself to pour them each a new fresh glass. He wasn't sure how many he'd downed already, but... was there really such a thing as too much wine?

He looked up to Sal, and spared the blond a warm smile. This was nice. Comfortable and friendly. He was just thankful that Sal had been so flexible in recovering from his anger. Though he had to wonder if the whole buffoonery that he exhibited earlier in front of the Italian had something to do with that.

With a full glass he lifted it, in a toast with the other man. "To pizza?" he chuckled a bit, as their glasses clinked. He then stole a long sip of the sour and sweet wine. Looking back down to his pie, Thomas' fingers wiggled a bit. He couldn't help but recall eating those dessert pizzas a few nights ago. He gave his head a shake as he smirked across at Sal.

"I am once more reduced to eating with my hands like a caveman," he teased as he picked up a slice in his hand. He brought the dripping slice to his lips, and bit down. "Mm..." A little shudder passed over him as the freshly melted mozzarella melded together with the tomato sauce, spice, and all his assorted toppings, all upon the fresh dough. Green eyes drooped closed as he enjoyed that first bite, and slowly swallowed. He licked his lips and quickly went in for another bite, suddenly feeling quite ravenous. Some of the cheese refused to break, causing quite the amusing string still connected to the slice and up to the Brit's teeth. He gave a yank as he managed to break the string, then fussed with the gooey cheese, while trying to not get the sauce and cheese all over himself. All the while there was a happy smile on his lips.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal cracked a grin and raised his glass to Thomas’, “You know I’ll drink to that.” He nodded, clicking his glass to the other man’s and swallowing a generous mouthful of the tangy beverage. He then went right at his pizza, fingers tugging a slice free of the rest of the pie; cheese oozed and stretched, clinging until they pulled thin enough to break.

Before he picked his up for a bite though, he stopped to watch Thomas. Chuckling over the caveman comment, he just kept watching, waiting. His mouth cracked in a smile again as Thomas bit down on his first slice, seeing the honest pleasure flush through the man’s body. That feel good, all encompassing pleasure. Only then did Sal pick up a slice of his own for a bite, folding the crust like a sandwich. He moaned and nodded as he filled his mouth, chomping down enthusiastically and hearing Thomas answering him with the same.

Swallowing, he huffed laughter through his nose and his eyes squinted with mirth, watching Thomas battle the gooey string of cheese from his pizza. The simple pleasure of the moment warmed him to the core; his previous anger and hurt… the anger was gone, if he thought about it, he could still feel the tender bruise of hurt. But he felt so much better now than he had before. The smiles and hot food, it all brightened his mood.

After he’d chomped through his first slice, Sal swallowed down some wine and went for a second slice. He didn’t bite into it though, lifting it up and breaking away strings of cheese, he held it up and out towards the brunet. “You still wanna try mine?” He asked, nodding his head and urging the Brit to take a bite. “Go on.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas had finished up his first slice. He'd been about to pick up his second, when Sal caught his attention with the lifted, offered slice of his own pizza. The traditional Italian mix. A smile upturned his lips. "Yes. I'd still like to," he informed. He sat up a little, and leaned across the table. Taking one last glance to Sal, he parted his pink lips, and soon bit down on the offered, cheesy tip. He got a hefty mouthful of the cheese, tomatoes, garlic and oregano. He pulled back, a string of cheese following him, causing the brunet to chuckle with his mouth full, till the strands broke. He lifted a hand, to cover his mouth, as he got the rest of the bite inside. He chewed slowly then.

Simple but delicious. The pleasurable taste showed on his face and in the little appreciative sound that escaped him. He swallowed, and licked his lips. "That is good," he grinned. "Not bland at all. Refined actually," he smirked, giving him a teasing look. Sal and refined weren't two words that went together. Though Thomas would admit the man had a refined palette when it came to the Italian food he loved so much.

"You're welcome to try mine, if you feel curious. Though I bet you've had about every combination imaginable..." he mused. Although Thomas knew he was likely ingesting way more calories than he should have, he went with it. Downing another piece or two of his own pizza in the next couple minutes. He hadn't exactly eaten all that much earlier that day, so it would balance out. And it was one night of indulging. Nothing wrong with that. He'd just have to be sure to take a long jog tomorrow morning.

Another glass of wine was downed, and Thomas poured himself another full glass, and did likewise for Sal. By the time he was full (more like stuffed), their bottle of wine was about gone, and the Brit had a content look on his face. A little on the drowsy side. Might have been the wine or the heavy meal. He licked his lips slowly as he looked up at the blond across from him.

"... This was real fun," he smiled.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal’s face was getting sore, he was smiling so wide. The laughter shone in his blue eyes as he watched Thomas take a bite from his pizza, straight from his hands. Just leant over and took a bite, pulling cheese and sauce with him. It was a wonderful sight, beautiful to Sal – Thomas was just a beautiful man in general, but laughing and a mouth full of pizza and smiling and wiping sauce from his mouth and chewing through cheese… it was relaxed and normal and open and Sal adored it. With the shirt and sweats, the mussed hair, hands that undoubtedly smelled like flour and dough, with a pizza in his hands and biting into a slice of his own… call him ridiculous and weird, but it was sexy to Sal.

When he took another bite of the slice, he couldn’t help but think about how it was a kiss of sorts. Indirect, but still a kiss to him. Thomas mouth had been there, now his was. It was high school, silly even, but Sal still thought about it. And smiled all the more for it.

By the time their ‘tanks’ were full, Sal had worked him through his entire pie. Boy sure could pack some food away, considering how trim he was. He drank the wine with the Brit, accepting refills and giving them out, each of them sharing the job. He leaned back against the back of the booth with a heavy sigh, full, holding his glass in one hand and sipping at the liquid inside. He noticed the content look on Thomas’ face, the slight drowse to him… he was feeling something like it as well, warm and full and happy once more, mind far away from disappointments of earlier.

“I’d say lets get some dessert,” he grinned lazily across the table at the other man. “But I’m full to burst. Same for you?”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sexy would have been the last adjective Thomas used to describe himself at that moment. But he didn't have all negatives. He felt comfortable. Just... super casual. But this moment was a casual one. The two of them spending some... bonding time? He supposed it was bonding. Though it begged the question of how worth while was all of this. Thomas would eventually return to Maryland to continue his degree, and Sal would stay up here to work at his pizzeria. The only purpose was to help the two wounded men overcome the loss of Paul. Nothing more, nothing less. But at times that reason was getting lost for Thomas.

It didn't exactly occur to him, the indirect kiss shared from him snagging a bite of Sal's pizza, and then the blond following up with his own bite. If he had though, well... who knew what he would have thought? With all the peculiar things that had happened that day...

Thomas let out a faint chuckle at the mention of dessert. "I don't even know where I'd put it," he smirked as he shook his head. He downed the last of his wine, then set his empty glass down. Unlike Sal, the Brit hadn't finished all his slices, but he'd given it a good attempt. Only 2 pieces remained. He looked down at the daunting pieces, then back up to Sal. "Got a to go box I could use?" he asked, as he motioned down to the slices.

Without another word, he rose up to take their glasses to the kitchen's sink. The wine bottle was disposed of, and Thomas washed the glasses. He spared a glance over in Sal's direction as he finished and wiped his hands on one of the many towels Sal kept here and there around the kitchen. There was still insistent little bits of dough clinging to his hands and end up his forearms. Not to mention, his vision was swimming, just a bit. He almost stumbled on his way out to the main dining area, till he grabbed the counter. A hint of a chuckle escaped him. "Nm... I think I had... a bit too much wine," he chuckled again.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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