ebonyfeather

primeval100

Naked

Matt followed his nose toward the smell of frying bacon and freshly made coffee, smiling as he walked into the kitchen. Now that was a sight he could wake up to every morning.

Becker was unloading bacon from the grill and into sandwiches, putting them onto plates.

Wearing nothing but an apron.

“Very stylish, sweetie,” Matt teased lightly, making Becker turn.

Becker glanced down. “Bacon spits,” he said practically. He made a move to take it off, but Matt stopped him.

“I think I like it,” Matt told him, tugging on the strings to pull Becker closer. “Leave it on.”