Chapter Text
Scott realized that day, when he was putting his name and date on his math exam, that soon it would be a year since he and Reyes started dating, hanging out, whatever the hell they were doing.
He had somehow managed to refocus his mind on the test, but now that he was at the coffee shop nearby Reyes’s flat, he let his mind run wild. A year. Should they do something? Reyes probably hadn’t realized, nor will he.
He had his cup of coffee between his hands, but he wasn’t drinking it. A year. That was crazy. Scott didn’t even know what they were, and that had resulted in a very awkward conversation with Sara a while ago.
“Ask him!” she had said, but Scott couldn't bring himself to care. They were hanging out a lot, they texted and saw each other regularly. If they couldn’t meet, they would call each other. They fucked, just the right amount and they were exclusive, and occasionally, they went on fancy date at some nice place, and Scott spent some weekends at Reyes’ flat. He even went there to study while Reyes did his things around the house. For Scott, they were a couple and he didn’t need the label. He was happy, Reyes seemed happy too, and that was all what mattered.
Scott took a sip of his coffee, and made a disgusted face - it was cold. He had paid for it so he kept drinking. He was thinking about buying another one, maybe a mocha or something sweet when his phone vibrated over the table.
A text. From Reyes.
“Still staying over this weekend?” it said, and Scott smiled.
“Of course, have my things with me. Making time at coffee shop, tell me when u r home”, he typed back, placing the phone back on the table again, with the screen looking down.
In truth, Scott had a key for Reyes flat, but he had never used it. He spent a lot of his time with the other man, but he felt the whole key thing was kind of a big deal, and he didn’t want to overstep Reyes’ trust.
They had not met that week and Scott missed him, but refused to recognize to himself he wanted to see Reyes soon. He was nervous every time he stayed at his place for more than a couple of hours, seeing as it was Reyes space after all, and the man was always so cryptic and private with some of his things. Scott wasn’t bothered for that either, he also had things he didn’t share - not even with his twin sister - and besides, what was in the past, was past.
Scott stood up when he finished his coffee to throw the paper mug to the trash can, and on his way, he stopped by the counter and saw some really nice muffins. He tilted his head to a side and joined the queue. Cinnamon muffins, of a beautiful tone of brown, like Reyes skin. Scott coughed away a smirk. He remembered a time when Reyes had told him he loved his grandma’s Christmas cookies with lots of sugar and cinnamon.
He bought four muffins, for tomorrow’s breakfast and for a moment thought the guy beyond the counter had eyes the same color of Reyes, but no, it was a different mix of green and gold.
Scott kicked himself mentally. Hard. Repeatedly.
He was putting the muffins carefully inside his backpack when he felt his phone vibrate again.
It was a selfie of Reyes, at his flat’s kitchen, with a giant potato on his hand, next to his face.
“Already makin u dinner” the text said.
Scott smiled and saved the picture, he typed back a quick “on my way” and then put his phone again on his pocket.
In less than thirty seconds, he was on the street.
He already knew what was up for dinner, and the thought spread a warm feeling on his chest. He tried to shake it back, but couldn’t. He was excited, he was anxious, he was nervous, and he was happy - he was all those things at the same time.
He had spent the entire day thinking about Reyes, and trying hard to not to, at the same time. He kicked himself so many times since the morning, because everything reminded him of the man. Scott was in love, he knew it for a while now, but he was always trying to not to think about that.
Reyes’ flat wasn’t so far away from the coffee shop he choose to wait in, a couple of streets down. He lived in the middle of the city center in an old building. It had commercial shops and little stores on the first floor of six, and the others were residential. Reyes lived on the fourth floor.
Just a couple of streets. A couple more.
He didn’t know when he started to fall this hard, but at this point? He had it bad, really bad.
Scott shuddered as the wind nipped at his face, it was starting to get cold. The sun was still high most of the days, but the presence of fall was on every corner of the city. The riot of autumn colors was beautiful.
Scott tried to keep an even pace while walking.
After ten or more minutes of walking, he finally reached the building. And in less than two minutes he was knocking at Reyes door.
Reyes opened the door with a quirked brow. His glance said, “are you ever going to use your key?” and Scott shrugged in response.
“Hi”, he said, keeping to himself any comments about the key, like always. Reyes stepped aside to let him inside and then closed the door.
Scott left his shoes and backpack beside the door.
“How was that exam?” Reyes asked, walking to the kitchen. He was wearing his nice “business” black pants and a red apron, and Scott realized he had come home from work not long ago and went straight to the kitchen.
Scott followed him.
Reyes flat was a studio flat, but Reyes had made some arrangements to separate the bedroom from the kitchen with a proper wall. The kitchen was cozy and tiny, but always clean. The rest of the flat had just the necessary things and almost everything was on shades of gray. Except his curtains, they were blue.
Scott leaned against the kitchen door.
“Not my finest exam, but I think I passed” Scott answered, while Reyes searched for something on the cupboards.
“Ahh, that’s good.” Reyes turned to wink at him, a potato masher in his right hand, before returning to his cooking. Scott very much liked to stand there, watching his back while he was cooking. Maybe he didn’t realize it, but he sang softly while cooking.
And he was doing that now, because he had music on from his phone playing. Scott didn’t know that song, but sounded pretty decent for Reyes’ taste in music.
“That was your last exam, right?” Reyes asked, stabbing the poor potatoes.
“Yes. Mashed potatoes again Reyes? Seriously? You make that for dinner every time I stay over on a Friday,” Scott said shaking his head, who could believe this!?
Reyes chuckled, “I like to spoil my man.”
“But that’s your favorite meal, not mine!” Scott said with a laugh, amused. This man was so ridiculous sometimes.
“Ohhh Ryder, you know me so well.” Reyes was wearing his best “charming” smile looking straight to his eyes, with his right hand over his chest. With the “ultimate potato masher” still on his hand. Scott felt… The song changed, he knew this one! Because it was cheesy as hell, even too cheesy for Reyes and his “disgusting cheesy Frank Fixation”
“Oh, oh, oh Sinatra! Let’s dance.” Reyes tried to reach for Scott’s arm, throwing the cooking tool away finally, but he dodged the movement like a pro.
“I don’t think so. I don’t dance,” Scott said, attempting to stay out of reach, but Reyes was persistent.
“Come on! Indulge me once,” he said, and then with an even more pro movement, Reyes reached Scott’s elbow, pulling him in, against his body. He took Scott’s left hand on his right one and letting the other rest on Scott’s waist. Scott sighed heavily and put his right hand on Reyes shoulder, giving in.
“I made your favorite for dinner, you owe me,” Reyes said smiling, and Scott rolled his eyes.
The volume of the music wasn’t too loud, just loud enough to hear the lyrics if they remained silent. Their faces were close, and he was looking right into Reyes eyes. He saw amusement there and other things he couldn’t name. Lurking, waiting.
So close, Scott could smell his scent so clearly, warm spicy cinnamon. All of his senses became aware of the man in front of him and even if he wanted, he could not pay attention to anything else but Reyes. He was lost in a sea of green and gold, and didn't care.
Scott didn’t realize when they started to dance slowly, barely moving around the tiny kitchen.
“And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true and never seemed so right before,” Reyes started to sing softly, almost chuckling at the sappy song. He didn’t have a voice worthy of a Grammy, but Scott loved to hear him sing. He did that only when he was comfortable and relaxed. Cooking, showering or spending a lazy afternoon with Scott. He smiled. Could he fall even harder?
“I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come through. But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you.” When he reached that last phrase, he waggled his eyebrows playfully, and Scott couldn’t help but laugh.
He continued, “The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and, oh, the night's so blue. And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you".”
Suddenly all the playfulness was gone from the room, in the exact minute he said those last three words, and they stood still in the middle of the kitchen. Something like helpless desperation was written all over Reyes’s face, also feelings, so many feelings. Reyes was drowning on them, and so was Scott. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t listen to the music anymore.
Scott swallowed hard.
“You do?” Scott asked quietly. Reyes face reached another completely different level of desperation, also there was some kind of fire on his eyes. He nodded fast and sharp. Several times.
“I do,” he choked out.
Scott nodded too, he licked his lips because they were suddenly so dry.
“Idotoo,” he responded in a rush. With those three words, something between them relaxed, and the desperation on Reyes face melted into something else, Scott wasn’t sure what, but he was sure his face was doing pretty much the same, he felt his cheeks blush a little. Reyes let go Scott, and put his hand on his cheek. Scott leaned into the touch.
“Dinner,” he said, and turned to the counter to finish stabbing his potatoes.