He was sliding it into the oven when the front door opened and CJ let himself in.
“You know,” Evan called toward the entryway, “most people knock before entering someone else’s place.”
“Most people aren’t dating the owner,” CJ called back.
He paused for half a second. “Is that what we’re doing?”
CJ appeared in the open entry to the kitchen and moved to lean against the island so he could watch Evan cook. He’d changed out of his practice clothes, but he still wore team shorts and a Barracudas hoodie with the sleeves cut off. He looked entirely too comfortable in Evan’s space.
Evan wiped his hands on a dishtowel and turned to look at CJ. His voice was rougher than he intended when he spoke. “I’m asking because I’d like to know if we’re in the same place.”
CJ stilled, and Evan tried not to hold his breath as he waited for an answer. He’d wanted clarity for a couple of weeks, wanted a definition he could hold on to. He turned back to the stove and grabbed a pot to fill with water for pasta so he’d have something to do with his hands, and so he wouldn’t have to see CJ’s face if he wanted something different. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller and hotter, and the scent of garlic and onion filled the air.
“Yeah,” CJ said quietly. “That’s what we’re doing. If you want it to be.”
Evan let out a breath, then felt CJ move behind him just before one hand landed on Evan’s hip and the other braced on the counter next to him. They stood there for a moment while CJ’s thumb brushed absentmindedly against the fabric of Evan’s T-shirt.
“You’re very quiet,” CJ murmured.
“I’m cooking.”
“You’re acting like you’re stirring pasta, but you haven’t moved the spoon once.”
Evan looked down. The spoon was in his hand, suspended motionless over the pot. “Shut up.”
CJ laughed softly and his hand skimmed up Evan’s back before gripping his nape and giving it a squeeze.
Evan set the spoon down and turned until they were chest to chest. CJ dropped his hands immediately and stepped back to give him room. Evan searched CJ’s face for uncertainty, but CJ only looked wary.
“I do,” Evan said.
CJ tilted his head. “You do what?”
“I want it to be. I want us to be…” Evan trailed off and tried to look away, but CJ cupped his face and turned his head until their eyes met.
“Good.” CJ smiled at him, and Evan’s heart kicked up. “I’m serious, Ev. I’m not here because it’s convenient. I live three doors down, so that would be a really bad excuse. I’m here because when I’m not, I spend half the night wishing I was.”
Steam curled up from the pot behind Evan and he turned back to the pasta, giving it a stir. In their time apart, CJ had become someone who knew exactly what to say, and Evan had trained himself to avoid moments where he would have to give an answer in return.
“I’m not good at this,” he said finally. “At relationships, I mean.”
“So we can be bad together.” CJ stepped up next to him again. “It’s like learning any new skill. Sometimes we’re gonna fuck things up. As long as we keep practicing and we don’t quit, we’ll figure it out.”
Evan laughed, and something inside him relaxed as he turned to look at CJ, who was still smiling and still standing too close to Evan, like he’d never left. Evan reached out and grabbed the front of his cut-off hoodie in one fist and tugged him forward. CJ came to him without resistance, eyes bright and focused on Evan in a way that always made him feel slightly off balance.
CJ opened his mouth, no doubt ready with some smug remark, but Evan kissed him before he could speak. It was meant to be quick, just to keep CJ quiet, but then CJ made a surprised sound against his mouth and immediately kissed him back harder as one hand slid to Evan’s waist and the other gripped his hip. The kiss deepened before Evan could decide whether to stop it, and by the time they broke apart, CJ wasgrinning like he’d won something. Then the sharp smell of scorched garlic hit the air.
“Shit.” Evan twisted to grab an oven mitt and yanked the oven door open to pull the vegetables out, giving them a stir to make sure they weren’t stuck to the pan.
Behind him, CJ laughed so hard he had to brace both hands on his knees. “Man, you are so easily distracted.”
“Get the plates,” Evan said through gritted teeth.
CJ saluted. “Yes, boyfriend.”
Evan froze and silence dropped into the room. After a moment, CJ spoke cautiously. “Too soon?”
Evan kept his eyes on the food in front of him. He tried to ignore the strange flutter in his chest, but it had been a long time since CJ had called him that. Long enough that he didn’t realize how much it would affect him to be claimed again.
