Ethan made breakfast in his boxers while Jack sat and watched from the kitchen island, tangling his feet around Ethan’s thighs every few minutes. When the cinnamon rolls were in the oven, Ethan pounced, lifting Jack from the island and carrying him to the couches in the West Sitting Hall. Laughing, Jack pulled Ethan down, and they made out while the snow tapered off outside the windows and the smell of warm cinnamon and fresh-squeezed orange juice filled the Residence. They fed each other, Jack making a show out of licking the sticky mess off Ethan’s fingers and giggling absurdly. Ethan swiped
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