Oscar’s phone pinged, distracting him from the conversation.
Luke SkyRacer: SPIKE. COME BACK TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING.
Spikey: Kinda busy with…you know…real life…
Luke SkyRacer: Cool. We all have real lives. I will lecture you about making time for me later. For now…does ‘real life’ have a name that starts with ‘A’ perhaps?
Spikey: People like you are the reason everyone thinks gays are nosy gossipers.
Luke SkyRacer: Is this supposed to make me feel bad? I’m doing my people a service.
Spikey: Do you want a medal?
Luke SkyRacer: No, chico. Just an answer to my question :P
Oscar rolled his eyes, then glanced at Aaron, who was eyeing him curiously, blue eyes wide as saucers, fixed on his face.
Yeah, Oscar thought,real life starts with an A.
“Wanna take a picture for my nosy friend?” he murmured.
Jeez, was this what it felt like when people went to war? Suddenly, Oscar felt like he’d pulled the pin on a grenade still in his grip.
But then Aaron leaned in a little closer, and Oscar thought he might truly present Lucas with a medal for making them touch like this. As the front camera turned on, Oscar paused, eyeing the image of himself next to Aaron, of Aaron beside him, and thought that they looked quite good, like shoes andsocks that had been meant to be worn together, a tie and a pocket square, like penguins.
Like boyfriends.
He snapped the photo before the screen could lock and sent it to Lucas
Luke SkyRacer: Oh, real life is cute :O
Spikey: I know… :) The cutest
Aaron’s breath brushed Oscar’s neck, and when Oscar turned to look, he caught his cheeks crimsoning, ripe as strawberries beneath those pretty freckles.
“I didn’t mean to snoop,” Aaron murmured.
“That’s okay,” Oscar murmured back. “It’s not a secret. That I think that.”
Aaron’s lips curved. He was so close, Oscar could just kiss him, but he didn’t want the first time their lips touched to be in the middle of their food arriving, with Joe and Anna sitting across from them talking to Joe’s sibling on the phone to coerce them into coming to dinner sometime that weekend.
Aaron rested his chin on Oscar’s shoulder, and something inside him remembered pulling the pin off the grenade. He brushed Aaron’s bangs from his brow.
“You wanna come over tonight?” he mumbled.
“Yes, please,” Aaron said.
His palm climbed over Oscar’s thigh, reminding him he was wearing sweaty gym clothes, but Aaron didn’t seem to mind. He found Oscar’s hand, fingers sliding through gaps, and he squeezed.
They ate their dinner one-handed.
Food had never tasted so good.
10
STRAWBERRY SLUSH
On any evening other than this, Oscar would have taken the bus, and it would have made more sense for Aaron to go back home with Joe and Anna, given the coffee house was a five-minute walk from the cathedral.
