“Old habits.” Aaron bit into his lower lip, running a hand over his head. “I used to cut it military short before. You know…to make up for other things.” Aaron shrugged. “And after the surgery, I just…felt a lot of things at once. I needed to do it one more time.” He fluffed the short bangs on his forehead, the hair on top of his head sticking up.
“I’m sure you rocked every haircut you ever had,” Oscar said. He swallowed the giant rock of spit that had formed in his mouth and traced its passage to his stomach. “You always look nice.”
Aaron’s lips twitched, nose crinkling. Oscar wanted to leap across the table. He wanted to sit in Aaron’s lap. Oscar wanted to devour him whole and keep him locked inside his chest forever, tuck him through the seams of his stitches and hold him in his heart.
“Sorry…” The waitress shook Oscar out of his trance, stopping Aaron from the response he’d been about to make, lips parting. Her eyes were bright as she looked at both of them with a massive grin on her face. “It’s been lovely to have you, but we’re closing.”
“Oh.”
Oscar pulled out his wallet and clapped it to the surface of the table, taking the bill from her. He eyed the total, heftier than normal, but he’d sell half a kidney to have these hours he’d just spent with Aaron. In the end, this man was far more worthwhile than any bell pepper ever could be, and Oscar was glad to slap the total and then some into the waitress’s leather bill holder.
“Thank you.”
He and Aaron shuffled out of the booth at the same time, standing awkwardly with the waitress like they were about to start throupling in the aisle between the empty tables.
“Well, I hope you had a nice date!” she said.
Oscar wasn’t sure whether to regret his tip or double it. He supposed it all depended on Aaron’s reaction, but there was no way in hell Oscar would be able to look at him now. Instead, he turned and started walking away.
“It went great,” Aaron murmured behind him. Oscar wouldn’t read too much into it. Not unless Aaron asked him out again. He couldn’t be making assumptions. He wouldn’t.
Oscar was still suffering his internal rambling when Aaron caught up with him at the door. They fumbled around who’d walk out first, and in the end, they walked out together, although nottogether. Oscar wished they were, hoped they would be.
“That…flew by, didn’t it?” Aaron said. He bounced on his feet, old white trainers that had lost their brightness squeezing as he moved. They were almost the same height.
Perfect for kissing, Oscar thought. But he would never. Not unless he was sure. He couldn’t fuck this up.
“Do you want to meet Luigi?” Oscar asked.
Nice one, king.
Aaron’s expression altered, eyes widening behind his glasses, teeth digging into his lower lip. Oscar prepared a nonsense response ofit’s okay if you don’t, even though it wasn’t okay, because Oscar didn’t want to go home without him now, even if nothing ever happened. He couldn’t say goodbye already. And surely, with all that coffee in his system, Aaron couldn’t be tired.
“It’s—”
“I’d love nothing more,” Aaron said.
“Yeah?” Oscar hated when his voice went soft, but he didn’t mind it now. Not with Aaron. Maybe he would never really hate anything with Aaron except the prospect of goodbye.
“Yeah,” Aaron replied. “Lead the way, Spike.”
In his heart, Oscar knew one thing: if he were still around to meet Aaron, Papa would have approved.
5
A BIT OF EGG
Oscar had learned from a very young age how to tell the hour by the light streaming into his bedroom at any given time. His mother had always been fussy about sleeping in—any excuse to call him lazy, no matter that he’d have spent half the night crying himself to sleep because of something she’d said to him at dinner.
Judging by the shaft of bright yellow slicing across his soft green blanket, it was, indeed, rather late. And it wasn’t like Oscar could be blamed.
They had sat on his couch for hours. Oscar had made Aaron switch to hot chocolate. He’d shown him the game, and they’d laughed at Luigi as he grimaced while he got accustomed to the new cap Aaron gifted him following a mumbled confession that he’d brought it just in case.
And then they’d talked.
And talked.
Andtalked.
