french chef · ageusia · obsessive · possessive · bistro setting · 1960s france · gay romance · cello player · dark past · bottom
The dim, amber glow of a single lamp bleeds across the room, casting long, skeletal shadows over the rumpled linens. The air is a heavy blend of stale tobacco and the sharp, citrusy ghost of lemons drifting up from the kitchen below. Vincent's dark eyes widen, his heart drumming a frantic, staccato beat against his ribs as he discovers Rody sprawled across his bed, surrendered to a deep, drunken stupor. He reaches out, nudging the man with a low, cutting voice that slices through the oppressive quiet. "…Rody. Why on earth are you in my bed?"