Aberlour had been standing there in front of Oliver’s front door, for some reason incapable of reaching for the handle. He’d been here hundreds of times. He had a key. Hell, he had a room where he always slept. He was pretty sure the bed was still unmade from when he’d slept in it four days ago. He’d never hesitated before. He’d never considered whether or not he was welcome here.
“Hmm?” he asked, turning to face Oliver, his question having gone in one ear and out the other.
“What the hell are you standing there for? Go on in,” he said, nodding towards the door as he frowned, looking at Aberlour as if he’d lost his mind.
Hadn’t he? Oliver Darling looked gorgeous. He’d just come back from a run, his blond hair was dark with sweat, his blue eyes were bright from the exercise, and his smile was cocky, and bold, and all Abe’s. In what world—how—he couldn’t be Aberlour’s. Not in everything from friend to lover. It was too much. Like a homeless man, handed the key to a kingdom. He swore there was a brilliant shimmer to Oliver’s skin that hadn’t been there before.
“Right,” he said, turning back to the door and hesitating just a second before he turned the handle and let them in.
Oliver waited until they were both inside before he grabbed the back of Aberlour’s neck, and smiled up at him, closer than before, cerulean irises shining with pure, unadulterated joy.
“Hi,” he greeted, before he leaned forward and kissed Aberlour soft and fast.
“Hi,” Aberlour answered, something thick caught in his throat.
Oliver cocked his head, still holding the back of Aberlour’s neck gently. He ran his thumb along the skin, and his smile widened, somehow. It shouldn’t have been possible, but it did.
“I need a shower,” Oliver said.
Aberlour felt his gut tighten, he blinked quickly, the thought in his mind feeling funny. Was that an invitation? Should he be–
“I’ll be right back,” Oliver added, ripping the choice away from him, before pressing one more kiss to Abe’s mouth. He pulled away quickly and ran up the stairs, halting only once to shoot him a deviously charming look before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom.
Aberlour had been here countless times. He lived here most of the time, so why did it feel so alien all of a sudden?He glanced around the room, breathing in and out slowly, trying to ease the flutter in his chest. Everywhere he looked, there were pieces of him. His coat hung beside the door. Oliver had borrowed it yesterday. His spare watch was on the kitchen counter, where he’d left it, setting next to his coffee mug, an old one that he’d taken from his parents’ house. He belonged here. He was in the walls and in the paint. He was everywhere. He’d always been everywhere. None of that would change. It didn’t matter how they’d evolved. He would always be part of this place—of Oli.
Aberlour forced himself to relax. It was the first time he’d panicked about the—situation. The physical part had been a no-brainer. Abe had never had hang ups with sex. It was something he enjoyed—and craved, but it was only part of it. It was the emotional aspects that were daunting.
He got himself a beer from the fridge, grabbing one for Oli. The Budweiser, not the Miller—because the man had lousy taste—and sat down on the couch. He turned the TV on and found a football game. He couldn’t quite get himself invested in the game, but he sipped on his beer and relaxed into the familiar leather cushions, trying to ease the tension from his body.
A few minutes later, Oliver came down the steps, his hair still wet, wearing a pair of workout shorts and a grey t-shirt.
“One of those for me?” Oliver asked, as he walked over to the couch.
“Cat piss just for you,” Aberlour acquiesced, holding out the beer in invitation.
Oliver snorted and dropped down to the couch right next to Aberlour. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the beer with a nod of thanks.
“Are you done freaking out?” Oliver asked, his eyes riveted on the TV.
Aberlour should have been disappointed at how pathetic his attempts had been to hide his feelings from Oliver, but he couldn’t quite muster up the energy. After all, Oli knew him better than anyone. It was the reason this whole freaking out thing was happening in the first place. He sighed and cleared his throat, biting the inside of his lip as he nodded.
“Had one too?” Abe asked. He draped one arm around the back of the couch, his thumb brushing the corner of Oliver’s shoulder as he turned to read Oli’s expression.
“Four or five,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Most of mine were before, though.”
“Before?”
“Kept wondering how it would play out. If you’d kick my ass, or push me off a cliff,” Oliver said.
“You were afraid I’d kill you?” Aberlour teased.
Oliver shook his head.
“I was afraid you’d leave me,” he admitted.
The football game got loud. They both turned to watch a beautiful pass fly through the air, and the receiver jump to catch it. The ball landing perfectly in the palms of his hands and he flew towards the end zone. Touchdown! The spectators screamed and the victor’s teammates jumped him.
They both turned to look at one another again.
