Karl folded the newspaper back, highlighting the headline article of the Food section. Crossing one long leg over the other, he leaned back in his seat and blew across the surface of his coffee to cool it. Taking a gentle sip, he grimaced before placing it back on the table to wait a few more minutes. It would be no good to burn his palate on the most important night of his culinary career.

He scanned the headline, "Sexe Au Chocolat - the world's finest pastry chefs vie for top honors at city's decadent fête. The article described the event using words like: hedonistic, titillating, and extravagant. In fact, it was a black tie cook-off with a hook. Sex. And sex always sold.

The competition was invitation only. Twelve chefs had been invited to create a dessert, given only two guidelines. It must include chocolate and inspire thoughts of sex. A-list guests from four continents had been outbidding each other for the sought after tickets, the price skyrocketing from the initial $3000 per plate with the proceeds going to the Second Harvest Food Bank, to $10,000 and up on e-bay.

Karl had been gifted two tickets, in addition to the two he received for himself and a guest. He was tempted to pick up two people outside the Second Harvest shelter and soup-kitchen and bring them just to see the look on everyone's faces. Actually, he could pick up three since he wasn't planning on bringing a date. He was no fun at these things, too preoccupied with his cooking to share his attention with a companion.

Taking a sip of the cooler coffee, he glanced at the clock. He needed to be at the Excelsior Hotel in about an hour. Much of his dessert had already been prepared, but he trusted no one else with creating the final chocolate and assembling the presentation. Pushing his chair back from the table, he left the kitchen to shower and change. He'd left his tux at the hotel in a room he'd been provided. Choosing to stay in a friend's apartment for comfort, he'd use the room to change tonight before the event.

~~~~~

Almost 12 hours later, Karl walked into the exquisitely appointed ballroom. Crystal chandeliers sent sparkling golden light dancing over the white linen table cloths and sterling silver serving dishes. Every woman in the room reflected the glittering light with their sequins and jewels, the men providing the perfect matting in their black and white tuxedos.

Karl tugged at his own uncomfortable tie. The tuxedo was a requirement or he wouldn't have dressed in the confounded thing. He hated monkey suits almost as much as he hated playing society's games. As soon as he could escape, he would, he promised himself.

Turning towards the stage, Karl froze.

He blinked slowly and allowed his eyes to refocus.

The vision didn't change, sitting at the judges' table was an absolutely breathtaking man. He lounged as casually as the surroundings would allow, laughing and talking with several people clustered around him. An undoubtedly custom tailored tux rested comfortably across his broad shoulders. Karl noted with envy that the dark modern shirt required no tie. Part of the stranger's allure was his absolute comfort in the elegant suit. Most men looked uncomfortable dressed up and fidgeted constantly with their starched cuffs and collar. This man wore his tux like a second skin; he couldn't have looked more comfortable in sweats and a t-shirt.

Karl found himself drifting unconsciously closer. There was something about the man that pulled him like a moth to a flame, his smile, his laugh… Holy Mother of God! …his eyes! The man had eyes that matched the blue of Caribbean waters. Karl wondered fleetingly if they would infuse with green and gray, like the water did under the influence of sun and storm.

A hand landed on his shoulder, jolting him out of his reverie. He jumped guiltily. He had been so intent on reaching the side of the unknown man that everyone else in the room had faded, unnoticed.

"A bit on edge tonight, Urban?" an amused voice taunted.

Karl turned, a scowl already firmly in place. "Marton, I didn't realize they had a category for food poisoning."

The other man's lips pressed into a grim smile. "You always were too good for the rest of us," he sneered. "Surprising considering your background. I'd have thought chief fry cook at the local McDonald's more suited to your skills. Just remember, I came over intending to be pleasant." Turning on his heel, Marton strode into the crowd.

Shit, Karl thought. Just what he needed tonight, an enemy on the warpath. He and Marton had attended the same culinary institute, constantly competing for the first and second spots. It had galled the blue-blooded descendent of Eastern European royalty to no end, that the upstart from New Zealand had almost always come out on top. When Karl had been offered the pastry chef position that Marton had coveted, their future animosity had been sealed. The fact that Marton had even attempted a conversation told Karl he was up to something.

Skirting the edges of the room, Karl headed for the kitchens. He had too much invested in his creation to let something go wrong. Passing through a discreet curtain, he entered a long dimly lit hallway. About half way down the corridor, he paused. Damn, all the doors looked same. The hotel had set up separate kitchens for all of the contestants to keep their creations private until their unveiling. Karl had only come this way once and couldn't remember which door led to his kitchen. He couldn't risk walking into the wrong kitchen, he could be disqualified. Well, shit! He leaned back against the wall, debating whether it was worth the trouble to go back through the ballroom to enter from the other direction.

"Hiding?" a lyrical voice asked.

Karl raised his eyes, unaware that anyone had entered the hall. Seeing the man from the party who had entranced him earlier, he felt the heat rise in his body. Swallowing nervously, he smiled, running a careless hand through his thick dark hair, leaving it in charming disarray. "No, actually it is much more pathetic. I'm one of the featured chefs tonight and I can't remember which door leads to my kitchen." He finished his little admission with a self-deprecating laugh.

The stranger's eyes lit with suppressed humor and something unidentifiable. He leaned casually against the wall next to Karl. Pulling a hand out of his pants pocket, he extended it. "I'm Craig Parker and based on the picture I was given with your file, you must be Karl Urban."

Karl's eyes sharpened. File? "You are one of the judges," he guessed, the pieces falling in place. He had been seated at the long table reserved for judges earlier, but with people milling about haphazardly and sitting randomly to take the pressure off of ill-fitting dress shoes, he hadn't thought much about it.

Craig nodded. "Not only that, but I'm also in possession of the top secret, highly classified map that diagrams the location of every chef's kitchen."

Karl laughed at the cloak and dagger routine as Craig searched his pockets, extracting a single sheet of paper. Reading it surreptitiously, he grabbed Karl's arm and looking both ways dragged him up the hall and through the correct door. Once they were safely ensconced in the brightly lit kitchen, he dropped Karl's arm.

Karl missed the touch immediately. Giving the other man a genuine smile, something he usually reserved only for close friends and family, he stripped off his jacket, tying a white apron around himself. "Wouldn't do to spill chocolate on the monkey suit."

"No, of course not. Will it bother you if I hang out for a while? The sharks are really out tonight and I'm not sure it's safe for any unattached male to be out there alone," Craig laughed.

Karl felt a secret thrill that Craig was both single and unattached. "Stay if it doesn't violate your Judge's Code of Ethics."

"Are you going to try and influence my decision?" Craig teased back and Karl realized they were flirting and it felt damn good. Opening several drawers, he pulled out a handful of utensils and went to work. He had everything prepared and over-prepared, but he needed to keep his hands busy or he'd be reaching for Craig.

Karl meant to control himself, he really did, but sharing a room with a man that raised his pulse rate just by existing was an exercise in something that qualified for the 'control of steel' category. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, focusing on the smell of the chocolate he was grating and trying not to think of the way Craig looked, leaning back against the counter, feet crossed at the ankle, watching every move of Karl's hands intently and biting at his lip in a way that made Karl want to shove him up against a wall and kiss him senseless.

Karl shot a glance under his lashes towards Craig and suppressed a groan. Why, after years of not meeting anyone who really interested him, was he presented with this gorgeous, witty, intelligent man when he couldn't do a damn thing about it? Karl rolled his eyes and tried to banish his own burgeoning erection by picturing Kate Bosworth naked in his mind.

He was doing fine until he chanced another glance at Craig. The judge was still wearing the dark shirt made of what appeared to be raw silk, but he'd stripped off his jacket, laying it carefully over the back of a chair. He'd rolled the sleeves of his shirt back and loosened the buttons at the top of the shirt. Karl's eyes drifted closed in a long blink. With a single glimpse of the tanned, muscled forearms, he simply gave up trying to control himself.

Placing his grater on the table next to the dark chocolate bark, he leaned one elbow on the surface and watched Craig, making no effort to hide the fact that he was gazing openly--and probably lasciviously--at the other man.

When Craig looked up and noticed that Karl had stopped working, he frowned. "What?" he asked, his voice puzzled.

"Nothing." Karl shrugged nonchalantly, shaking his head slightly. Craig really had no clue of the effect he had on Karl and probably many others.

"Then why did you stop?" A grin was playing at the corners of that delicious mouth, enticing Karl to move closer.

"Because." Karl pushed away from his own table and walked towards Craig, aware that his movements appeared slightly predatory. "Because…" He stopped directly in front of Craig. "I can't help but think you would taste better than anything I could prepare." He grinned when Craig's eyes widened in surprise.

Craig looked up at Karl through a heavy fringe of dark lashes most of the women in the other room would kill for. "Guess the only way to find out is for you to taste me," he suggested.

A thrill of desire thrummed through Karl. Craig wasn't backing down. His cock hardened and fire flooded his system. He stepped closer, just one step. Craig looked up at him, his eyes dilated with hunger, a flush staining his face. Karl needed to make a decision.

Was this worth risking the competition for?

Hell yes.

Karl grinned. Leaning closer, he placed his mouth next to Craig's ear. He was so close that his lips brushed against the soft, outer curve as he spoke, and Craig shivered and drew his breath in sharply. "I really want to kiss you, Craig."

"Hmmm…" Craig hummed. His eyes told Karl that he knew full well exactly what Karl would like to do to him… with him.

Karl kept his voice smooth and low, the tone inviting and sensual. "I want to kiss you; I want to taste you; I want to see your eyes close, and feel your mouth open under mine. I want you to forget your own name."

Craig swayed slightly towards Karl, his eyelids falling shut and his mouth opening at the very suggestion implied by Karl's words. Karl watched it all, completely enthralled. He wondered if Craig always responded with this sort of receptiveness. He moved slightly away from Craig, offering a distance he was hoping Craig didn't want, and grinned inwardly when Craig moved to follow him, his gaze fixed on Karl's mouth.

Craig very definitely wanted this as much as he did. Stepping closer, he tried not to pounce, and was pleased when Craig leaned slightly into him. The movement seemed unconscious - automatic - and Karl marveled again at Craig's uninhibited, innate sensuality. It really was a wonder that Craig wasn't attached to someone else by now. He was amazed to feel more than a bit jealous at the idea of someone else kissing Craig, of Craig belonging to anyone but him.

He wrapped one hand gently around the back of Craig's neck to steady himself and brushed their mouths together once softly, so very softly. He kept his own eyes open, but Craig's shut immediately, and Karl felt the soft puff of Craig's released breath against his damp lips. When he pulled back, Craig swayed forward, following him. Karl lifted his other hand and cupped Craig's face with it, trying to convince himself that continued restraint was called for. "I'm right. Most substances that addictive are illegal." His voice was husky, and he cursed himself for it, but Craig just sighed softly.

When Karl didn't immediately return to the kiss, Craig's eyes slowly fluttered open. He grinned suggestively, one brow quirking up. "Had enough of me already? There might be more tastes to explore."

Craig knew exactly what effect his words were having on Karl, and Karl tensed. Anticipation had been simmering inside him for quite a while, and at Craig's provocative statement, it coalesced into a knot of need that he couldn't have denied even if he'd wanted to.

The second kiss began just below Craig's left ear. Karl nuzzled at the soft skin there, blowing softly on it and taking the lobe of Craig's ear between his teeth so he could flick his tongue against it. He was holding Craig loosely now and he let his mouth move to the strong throat, his lips and tongue so gentle as to be almost sipping at Craig's neck. He teased for long minutes, exploring the tendons and muscles, finding the pulse points, his caresses air-light and tantalizing. The restraint was nearly killing him, but he was rewarded when Craig grew increasingly restless, whimpering softly and arching helplessly closer.

In response, Karl pulled completely away, watching through half-closed eyes as Craig finally met his gaze. The sharp edge of challenge that had glimmered in his cerulean eyes was gone now, and he looked dazed and ravished. Karl felt a sharp surge of satisfaction, and carefully keeping his voice even, he said, "You're right, your neck does taste different."

Craig's hands had drifted up to rest on Karl's shoulders, and when he spoke, his voice was dreamy. "I'm sure you aren't full yet." His eyes closed again and he didn't move.

Karl decided that only a complete fool would ignore an opportunity like that. Karl was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them.

"I think I need a more detailed taste of your mouth." Without waiting for a reply, Karl leaned in again, the movement sharp and clean. He'd intended to practice some restraint, at least at first, but when Craig's mouth opened obligingly under his, he gave up and let the kiss become everything he'd been fantasizing about since he'd seen him earlier in the ballroom. He slid his tongue between Craig's open lips and stroked at his tongue, his arms tightening when Craig moaned in response.

Karl took his time, exploring the sweetness of Craig's mouth methodically and glorying in the increasingly eager response he got. The kiss was demanding and sensual, and when Craig's knees buckled, Karl was ready for it and caught him. Long before he wanted to, he broke the kiss, tracing his tongue around the edge of Craig's lips and lapping at one corner of Craig's mouth while he caught his breath.

Swooping down, he claimed Craig's mouth yet again, this kiss still sensual but softer, more inviting, and when Craig's tongue made its first foray into the welcoming warmth of Karl's mouth, Karl groaned low in his throat and sucked gently on it, encouraging Craig's uninhibited response. This was what Karl had sensed in Craig, the innate responsiveness, the latent passion.

The kiss went on for ages, a tangle of tongues, warmth and drugging sensuality. Karl was hard and hot and close to just bending Craig over the nearest counter and ravaging him. The intensity of his response caused him to pull back slightly.

"So… uhmmm… yeah." Karl's voice was nowhere near as steady as it had been before that last kiss as he fought for simple coherency.

"Did you get enough of a taste that time?" Craig's voice was breathless and want-filled, and his hips were pressing intimately and eagerly against Karl's.

Karl ran one hand down Craig's back and let it rest possessively on the curve of his ass, gripping Craig's wrist in his other hand. "I don't think I could ever get enough of you," he rasped.

Karl's words were almost inaudible, mouthed against Craig's lips, and when Craig, eyelids still at half-mast, asked, "Then why'd you stop?"

Karl drew his breath in sharply. His mouth returned to Craig's, the touch feather-light, brushing and then pulling away. His heart beat faster when Craig followed him, mouth half-open.

"That wasn't much of a taste." Craig sounded breathless, his tone undeniably aroused.

Karl closed his eyes briefly at the promise in Craig's heavy-lidded look. "Because I want to savor you." He released Craig's wrist and slid his hand around the slim waist. He let his fingers tighten briefly at Craig's hip. Craig nodded. Karl dipped his fingers beneath the snug waistband to stroke the sensual silk of Craig's boxers. "How did I know you'd wear silk?"

Craig smiled and in an almost hypnotic state, he reached one hand up to wrap around Karl's neck. "Because after an hour, you already know me better than people who have been my friends for years."

"An hour! Fuck, what time is it?" Karl's head swung around, catching the time from the clock on the wall. "You should have been back thirty minutes ago and I'm supposed to have this done and in the presentation room in ten minutes."

Craig grasped at Karl's hands as the chef began to panic. "Wait, Karl." His tone brooked no argument and the taller man immediately turned to him. "Take a deep breath. I'll handle things from the platform. You take the time you need to create your masterpiece." With a chaste brush of lips, he grabbed his jacket and was gone.

Karl lifted his hand and pressed his fingertips to his kiss swollen lips. No matter what happened, the last hour had been worth it. Setting his resolve, he turned back to what he did best - cook. Rushed or not, he was going to knock these people on their asses.

~~~~~

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if I could have your attention please," the resonant voice flowed from the hidden speakers as the lights began to dim, the room only spared total darkness by the votives flickering at every table. "Our featured chefs have produced for your visual and gastronomic delight a unique and decadent assortment of confections. In a moment, they will be unveiled in the twelve alcoves around the room. While you enjoy your dinner, our judges will be sampling and making their decisions. After our winner is announced, you will all be invited to end your evening by indulging in the finest erotic delicacies ever created. Bon appetite!"

A quiet murmur ran around the room, anticipation tense in the air.

Karl stood behind a closed curtain, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his mind. The dessert beside him wasn't the source of his anxiety; it no longer mattered what anyone thought of the creation he'd spent over a month working on. The man somewhere out there in the dark was the one responsible. How would he react to the decision Karl had made?

Karl listened as applause roared and then settled eleven times. He was in the last alcove. They had drawn numbers earlier in the day to determine the order in which they would present. He had been pleased to draw the number 12. After seeing his dessert, the gathering wouldn't be asked to focus on any other entry.

The curtains parted and Karl smiled at the assembled audience and immediately stepped to the side. No words were necessary to accompany what he had designed. His dessert resembled a living sculpture more than food. Liquid chocolate poured from the top of a chocolate cliff, streaming down in a waterfall to a pool below. The 'rock' of the cliff had been carved from dozens of shades of chocolate from dark to white and sealed with a coating of hardened sugar that made it sparkle like it was wet from the spray of the waterfall. Carefully disguised as rocks surrounding the pool, strawberries, other fruits and seven types of cake waited to be dipped and sampled.

Karl heard the first gasp and smiled to himself. At the base of the waterfall, partially concealed by the opaque chocolate waterfall were two entwined figures, carved from a creamy blend of white and milk chocolate, one skin tone just slightly darker than the other. He knew that they wouldn't be immediately spotted, but even from a distance they were undeniably lovers. The larger figure had the smaller caught up in his arms, a leg drawn around his hip and held in place by a strong hand. The other hand was wound in chocolate curls, tilting the head so he could nibble on the exposed and vulnerable neck. The fronts of their bodies were pressed together, but the exposed backs, shoulders and thighs left little doubt that both figures were male.

Karl wondered, as he basked in the roar of applause, what the overall opinion would be, once they were able to get close enough to identify the sex of the figures. Shrugging, he turned to greet the judges as they started their tastings. With a smile, he joked and answered questions with the men universally acknowledged as the leaders in the culinary field. His eyes never drifted far from Craig.

~~~~~

"…and the top honor goes to Marton Csokas!" the head judge announced with a flourish. Applause spread through the room with slightly less interest than earlier. Well fed and getting sleepy, the crowd was sated enough to be polite but not enthusiastic.

Craig met Karl's eyes over the crowd with a puzzled expression. Marton's dessert had been sinfully delicious, but they both knew Karl's design had beaten all the other entries hands down. Karl just shrugged with a knowing grin. If he had a chance, he'd explain it to Craig later. For the moment, he was just wishing fervently that the judge would approach him again. It felt wrong to seek him out. If Craig wanted to continue what they had started in the kitchen, he was going to have to come to him.

Swiping a last glass of champagne before escaping to his room, Karl's shoulders tensed as he heard Marton's voice. Plastering on a smile, he turned to face him. "Congratulations, Marton."

The jovial tone of his voice threw the other man for a moment and he stood staring at Karl silently. Several emotions flew across his face, finally he stated, "You don't sound upset."

Karl shook his head and smiled pleasantly. "I'm not."

"Why? You should be! If I had created what you did and hadn't even made the top three, I'd be livid!"

Karl chuckled. Marton actually sounded outraged for him.

"Damn narrow-minded, uptight, stuck-up…" Marton continued his tirade.

Karl caught on. Marton thought they hadn't voted for him because of the figures he'd chosen. Laying a hand on Marton's sleeve, he stopped him. "Calm down. They didn't snub me because of the men." He paused making sure he had the other man's attention. Over Marton's shoulder, he spotted Craig walking towards them determinedly.

"But why else…" Marton objected.

Karl's smile grew and the warmth spread up into his eyes as he watched Craig walk closer. He was close enough to overhear now. "I withdrew my name from the competition before it ever started."

"What a confounded stupid thing to do!" Marton exclaimed.

His eyes never leaving Craig even as he spoke to Marton, Karl braced himself to take a leap. "There was something else I wanted to win tonight that was much more important."

Craig's face and eyes glowed as he stopped just behind the other chef. Karl's face mirrored the intimate emotion. Marton's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Finally following Karl's gaze, he turned and spotted an identical look on Craig's. Silently, he backed away from the couple, unnoticed.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Craig said softly, walking closer until their sleeves were brushing. "I abstained from voting."

Karl chuckled, "Great minds think alike."

"Are we… thinking alike that is?" Craig asked.

"If you are thinking that we need to be somewhere alone where we can get to know each other a lot better, preferably naked, then I'd say yes, we are thinking alike." Karl grinned, winding his fingers through Craig's and squeezing tightly. Watching Craig's eyes dilate with desire, happiness surged up through Karl's middle, constricting his throat. That free hotel room might come in handy after all, he thought as they made their way out of the ballroom towards the elevator.

~fin~