Sasha Clarke believed chocolate could fix anything.
A bad day? Chocolate.
A boring day? Chocolate.
A happy day? Well… more chocolate.
It was warm and sweet and soft, and it didn't care if he talked too much or if he giggled at the wrong time. Chocolate never glared at him. Never called him silly.
People, though… they weren't as easy.
People didn't like it when you talked like a baby sometimes. Or when you wore pink sweaters in the rain and got chocolate smudges on your lips without noticing. People thought you were weird for offering your dessert to strangers.
But Sasha didn't care much what people thought.
Because someday — he just knew it — he'd meet someone who liked sweetness as much as he did.
Someone who'd look at him like he was made of sugar, even if he dripped a little.
Until then… chocolate was enough.
Or at least… it had been.
Until the day a big, grumpy stranger with shiny shoes and angry eyebrows sat across from him at his favorite café and glared at his cake like it was a personal insult.
And just like that… Sasha's life got a whole lot more interesting.
⋆ටᆼට⋆ ρяσℓσցυє⋆ටᆼට⋆
The party Dominic had to attend wasn't his idea.
It was corporate — one of those pointless social evenings full of fake smiles, champagne flutes, and people trying to one-up each other. But he showed up, because that's what was expected.
What he didn't expect… was the photo Sasha saw online.
Some coworker had posted a few snaps of the room: men in sharp suits, women in glittering dresses, laughter, lights… and Dominic in the middle of it all, drink in hand, looking effortlessly good and very, very available.
Sasha had been sitting on the pink couch when he found it.
And he did not like what he saw.
By the time Dominic came home… Sasha was no longer sulking.
He was plotting.
---
The door opened.
Dominic stepped in, jacket still on, tie loose, already running a hand through his hair—
And froze.
Sasha stood in the middle of the living room.
In nothing but one of Dominic's crisp white shirts — unbuttoned just enough to tease — and a tiny black thong that left very little to the imagination. His hair was fluffy and wild, cheeks flushed, lips shiny.
Dominic's jaw tightened as his dark gaze swept over him.
But he didn't say a word.
Sasha padded closer, hips swaying subtly, big doe eyes locking on Dominic's as he spoke softly, accusingly:
"You're late."
Dominic's brow arched. "Mm. Am I."
"You are."
Sasha tugged Dominic's jacket off and let it drop to the floor, pouting all the while. "Did you have fun? At your little party? With all those… people?"
Dominic's eyes narrowed faintly, voice even.
"I wasn't there for them. It was work. Nothing more."
Sasha scoffed, arms folding over his chest as his tiny thong-clad hips jutted out in challenge.
"You could've been here. Where you're supposed to be."
Dominic tilted his head, dark eyes glinting.
"Where would you rather I be?"
Sasha didn't flinch.
He slid his hands up Dominic's chest, one settling on his shoulder, the other trailing lazily down his tie.
He leaned in, lips brushing Dominic's ear, voice sweet and sinful:
"…Beside me."
And then — pulling back just enough to look him dead in the eye, his voice lower, hotter —
"…And inside me."
Dominic froze.
His breath hitched as his hands shot out, catching Sasha by the waist, fingers digging into the soft curve of his hips.
"…Really," he growled.
Sasha grinned, all fluff and bite, eyes sparkling with mischief as he nodded.
"Really."
But before Dominic could drag him in, Sasha wriggled free with a teasing laugh.
He turned his back, hips swaying as he strutted toward the bedroom, calling over his shoulder:
"Since you were busy tonight… guess I had to do all the work myself."
He glanced back just long enough to catch Dominic's stunned — and very heated — expression, before disappearing into the room, his little thong-clad ass wiggling with every step.
Dominic stood there, jacket on the floor, tie loose in his hands, staring after him.
And thinking — one of these days, he was really going to make that brat pay for that mouth.