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"Pssst," Simon hears across the kitchen table, feels a pencil eraser poke his hand. "Hey, Si. Pssssst."
Simon fights a smile and he looks up from his homework, giving his boyfriend a faux-death glare. "Yes, Bram?" He says, trying to sound condescending but coming out less sarcastic and deadpan and more sweet and loving.
"Can I have an Oreo?" Bram asks, giving Simon a dorky smile and reaching his open hand halfway across the table. Simon looks at the opened six pack of Oreos he has resting next to his notebook and zeroes in on the single one left.
Simon raises an eyebrow, and darts his eyes from the cookie to Bram before blindly taking the oreo and popping it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Simon slips his hand into Bram's open one and close-mouthed grins. He's sure he looks like a chipmunk on laughing gas -- all smiles and giggles and cheeks.
Bram fakes hurt, gasping loudly and bringing his empty hand to his chest. "How dare you? All those months emailing just for you to betray me like this?"
Simon swallows the cookie, washing it down with a gulp of his now-watered down iced coffee and throws his head back, laughing loudly. He watches through partially closed eyes Bram's face soften and feels a squeeze on his hand. Simon's laughter dies down and he throws Bram a lopsided grin.
"There's more Oreos in the pantry above the fridge," Simon stage-whispers, eyes sparkling and joy bubbling in his chest. "They're yours, but they come with a price."
"And what is the cost, Mr. Spier?" Bram says in his most posh accent, sitting up straighter and adjusting his invisible tie with one hand, never once letting go of Simon's.
"One kiss, Mr. Greenfeld." Simon responds in an equally posh accent.
"Oooh, you drive a hard bargain," Bram ponders for a moment before leaning up and over the table, kissing Simon sweetly.
They pull away with a wet smack and matching smiles. "Those Oreos are all yours, good sir." Simon says, gesturing toward the pantry.
"Why, thank you," Bram bows, kisses Simon quickly again before darting to the cabinet and reaches up to grab a pack of Oreos.
Simon watches Bram open the package, eyes focused on the blue packaging and tongue peeking out of his lips in concentration. He loves Oreos, but he loves his dorky, overgrown-child boyfriend more. If Simon had to choose to live without Oreos or without Bram? He'd go Oreo-less, every time. He never realized how long he spent holding his breath. He doesn't even know how he breathed before Bram.