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Oliver shot his sibling a withering glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “I guess we’re both strapping on our grown-up boots, aren’t we? What’s next? Picket fences?Children?”
“Stop talking hetero,” Leo complained, throwing a grape at his sibling. “But I do hope you have a nice time. You might actually like having a boyfriend.”
Before, the very idea would have made his skin crawl, but the thought of being allowed to wake up next to Gabe any time he wanted because they were a couple—it had an appeal Oliver had never felt before. And he liked it.
“Any last-minute tips before I go?” Oliver asked.
“Ask him before you kiss him for the first time—consent for everything. Hold the door for him, but don’t pull out his chair because that’s ridiculous. Compliment him a lot. And I dunno, read the room. Or something. You know I’m not actually good at dating advice, right?”
Oliver laughed, clapping Leo on the shoulder before he headed to the door. “Laterz. Don’t wait up, and don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’ll be here, studying all night, like a good little demi-boy,” Leo called as Oliver slammed the door.
A massive smile plastered across his face, Oliver climbed into the car and started up the engine. It had taken him a while to learn how to drive, having never bothered as London traffic was hell, but when he realized how awful public transport was when he moved to California, he didn’t have much choice.
It was still a shaky thing, but with his GPS, he was able to navigate the streets well enough to get back to Gabe’s apartment, and he found a decent spot without having to parallel park. As he got out, he realized his nerves had fired up, and his fingers were shaking a little as he attempted to push the lock button on the keys. It took three tries and a nice laugh at himself before he was composed enough to get to Gabe’s door and knock.
There was a good minute’s pause, but he could hear footsteps inside. When the door swung open, Gabe was dressed, but he had a towel around his shoulders and his curls were hanging long over his forehead, dripping wet.
“I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I was running late.”
Oliver smiled, shaking his head. “No worries. Go finish getting ready. I already feel like I know your place, so I’ll just make myself comfortable.”
“Oh my God,” Gabe muttered, but he was grinning, and he gave Oliver a little shove toward the sofa before rushing back toward the bathroom.
Oliver flopped down on the sofa, sinking into the cushions a little. He cocked one foot up on the edge of the coffee table and let his gaze wander. He’d been caught up before, with Leo’s dramatic attempts to throw himself over the proverbial edge of wellbeing, so his mind hadn’t registered much the last time he was in the apartment. But now he could clearly see the knick-knacks on the shelves and the photos on the walls.
A few photos were of Gabe as a kid with a much rounder, baby face. The clothes hideously mid-nineties with neon pinks and purples, but Gabe’s curls were still the same—wild and short. His face wasn’t much different except the glow of youth, a tinge of pink to freckled, chubby cheeks, and sunburnt ears. Oliver wondered what he was like back then, before his falling out with his parents. He looked well loved. At least, more loved than Oliver had grown up. It was a wonder how far a person could be thrown from family for nothing more than discovering who they truly were and still turn out alright.
Oliver let out a sigh, trying not to let himself go morose before his date. He wanted to enjoy his night with the adorable barista, not think back on the nightmare of childhood.
When Gabe finally returned from getting ready, Oliver gave him a slow up and down, showing his appreciation with a lecherous gaze. Dressed in loose jeans and a collared shirt, he looked ready for a semi-formal dinner. And he looked damn good, too. The shirt hugged his torso just so, and the jeans flattering at the back. His curls were still wet, but it looked like he’d thrown some product into them, likely in a vain attempt to keep them tame.
“Alright?” Gabe asked as Oliver rose from the sofa.
With a grin, he beckoned Gabe closer, and adjusted the edge of his collar which had come up slightly. “Better than I was all week. I swear I thought Thursday was never going to come.”
Gabe smiled, leaning in a little and surprising Oliver as he sniffed his neck. “Same. You smell really good, by the way.”
“I showered,” Oliver said, and Gabe laughed.
“Thank God for that.” He reached out, a little bold, and grabbed Oliver’s hand, pressing them palm-to-palm. “So, time for my fancy date?”
“So long as you have those promised snuggles after,” Oliver said.
“I washed my comforter today, so it’s fresh and fluffy. Did you bring the pajamas?”
Oliver grinned, pulling Gabe close so their sides pressed together. “I did. Soft and cozy. You probably won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself.”
Gabe grabbed his keys and phone, then pulled Oliver into the hallway. “You talk a big game, my friend. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”
Pouting out his lip, he watched as Gabe’s eyes darkened a little, and knew at least some of his tricks of seduction would work. “Really? Am I losing my touch?”
Gabe licked his lips, then rolled his eyes away from Oliver to lock his door. “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”
Yanking Gabe in, Oliver buried his face in the other man’s neck, breathing him in. “I might. But I promise it’ll be in a really good way.”
“Fuck,” Gabe muttered. He stood there a moment, then carefully extracted himself, offering Oliver his hand. “How about we get through dinner first, yeah? Then we can…resume?”
