Chapter 326: Pretty Pretty Andy
"So, I’ve been thinking." Maxwell started. It was the next morning, and the two were sitting down to a quick breakfast that Andrew had whipped up before others began to flood the house. Andrew had had to carry Maxwell down the stairs, apologising the whole way down for not being able to control himself.
Maxwell had just laughed it off, all smiles as he admitted that he’d poked the bear. He had partially done this to himself, and he was fine with it. He just needed a little message on the couch before others arrived and he’d be fine. Andrew had agreed in a heartbeat, anything that would make the other man feel better.
Andrew was raising a glass of orange juice to his lips, his toast buttered, jam nearby and the scrambled eggs on his plate ready to be eaten.
Maxwell was putting jam on his toast.
"Oh? About what?" Andrew asked, smiling at his boyfriend, soon to be fiancé. Maxwell raised his gaze, smiling at Andrew before he dropped his gaze back to the task at hand.
"I’m thinking we should consider kids after the wedding. I don’t want to be pregnant like Amir was for my wedding." Andrew was glad that he hadn’t taken a sip, otherwise he would have sprayed Maxwell with orange juice.
Andrew was coughing and hacking up a lung for a long moment before finally he was able to speak.
"W-What made you start thinking about this in so much detail?" Andrew asked, his heart racing in his chest. He blushed when he realised how warm Maxwell’s gaze was when he looked at him. He was staring at him with such open affection that Andrew felt a little embarrassed, even if he knew that he often looked at Maxwell like that.
Maxwell wasn’t ever this obvious about his affection. Andrew wasn’t complaining, it was just something that he noticed. He might be obvious with his words, but being like this?
Andrew felt his cock harden in his pants and wondered if he was just a damn pervert. They had so many things to worry about, he should not be wanting to do anything to Maxwell right now. The man couldn’t even walk down the stairs after Andrew had his way with him yesterday. He’d even left marks on his delicate white skin yesterday. It was so obvious that he’d restrained him by his wrists yesterday.
The man bruised like a peach. A delicious, juicy peach.