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“Who knew this many people shopped at Meijer at one in the morning on a Tuesday?” Kryoz remarked, absently scratching behind his ear as the grocery store’s automatic doors opened with a ‘whoosh’ to accompany him.
Evan gave his back a wrinkled nose-ed look as he followed the taller brunette into the store, pulling his hands further up into his jacket sleeves at the sudden burst of cold air conditioning.
“Yeah, there’s people like us,” He deadpanned back, watching John struggle to yank a shopping cart free from the holding rows. Growing disinterested, Evan scanned the store, gaze skimming over boxes of produce and check-out stations as he listened to the faint rattling of metal produced by John’s hassle.
The store seemed a lot larger and more open when it was relatively silent and the world outside beyond the doors was dark and shadowed. In fact, the lack of noise almost seemed like sound itself, a weird heavy haze in the air.
Evan flinched, gaze snapping back to John quickly when with a sudden ‘CRASH’, the other yanked a cart free.
“Got it,” The brunette huffed, turning to flash Evan a smile. The Asian snorted softly, embarrassed at his own unsettled reaction, and started walking, not waiting to see if John would follow.
The soft whirring of wheels on tile quickly followed him.
The trip to Meijer had been unplanned, uncoordinated, and last minute. It was the result of everyone in their group realizing that not only they didn’t have any food, but that people didn’t actually want to spend all their money eating out.
This was a fair decision considering they’d all spent a fortune already flying to LA and getting tickets for the nearby convention. Except Evan, because he lived in LA. Now because of that, Evan had insisted, like a good friend, that he should pay for the hotel for them.
That was why the entire group (consisting of John, himself, Smitty, Anthony, Tyler, Scotty, and Marcel) was staying in one enormous suite with three beds and a futon, and everyone irritable from jetlag.
It’d been hilarious.
Revenge was cruel however, and Evan’s friends had no qualms about sending him out in the dead of night to go shopping, because they were in desperate need of sustenance and caffeine, and no one else wanted to leave that house. Except lovely, kind, generous John, who’d agreed to accompany Evan during his forced exile.
(So what if he’d actually been dubbed Evan’s “Chaperone”. His friends were just assholes.)
At first, they’d been relatively calm. Objective, even. ‘Let’s get our shit and go”. Then John had made the brilliant suggestion that they should go check out the toy aisles. That in itself, was the reason Evan and John quickly became the most hated customers in the entire store.
That and the laser gun fight.
In their defense, it was late; Evan had had a beer earlier that evening and John was jetlagged, and when they saw the laser guns in the kids toy aisle (a very necessary part of the shopping list), and realized they worked while still in the packaging, the two wouldn't have been stopped by the end of the world.
Or any irritable Meijer employees.
“AHHH EVAN NO!” John shrieked, and Vanoss cackled maniacally as he chased the brunette down the aisle of barbie dolls and minecraft pickaxes. John threw his arms and gun up over his head as he ran, stooping down as though this would shield him from the little red dot Evan had aimed directly between his shoulder blades.
Kryoz disappeared around the corner, heeled boots sliding on the brown and white checkered tile and almost causing the man to fall in the process. Evan lowered the gun with a huff and sprinted to catch up, his own heavy soles pounding dramatically in the echoey store.
He turned into the horizontal aisle only to see a bike speeding directly towards him, causing the Canadian to jump away with a rather undignified shriek that he never would’ve allowed to slip on camera. Evan miscalculated the jump and stumbled, crashing backwards into the racks of nearby children’s bikes with a loud clatter of metal and rubber.
John jumped off his own spongebob bike and the two watched in horror as a purple glittery Dora bike tilted, then fell, sending the entire display toppling like dominos.
“Oh shit,” Evan breathed, dropping his laser gun down on the floor beside him. They looked at each other, each breathing hard and flushed with adrenalin. John grinned.
“RUUUUN!” He shrieked, turning on his heel and bolting down the aisle. Evan scrambled to his feet and chased after him, laughing hysterically at the absolutely ridiculous reaction. John rounded another corner and faintly Evan heard a vaugly muffled shout of ‘FUCK THE POLICE’ that caused him to nearly stumble at the sudden breathless weeze that caught in the back of his throat.
They didn’t stop running until they were across the store, safely hidden in the produce section and panting like they’d run a marathon; still choking on hysterics they attempted to muffle.
“Oh-” Evan wheezed, one hand braced on a shelf of tomatos as he tried to regain his composure, “Oh my fucking- fucking god, that was-” He cracked up again when John threw his head back and exhaled loudly, hands braced dramatically on his hips and flannel swaying in the airconditioned breeze.
“We’re so, so gonna get kicked out,” John giggled, lowering his head to meet Evan’s gaze where the Asian crouched.
“Oh yeah we are,” Evan huffed, his laughter calmed to excessive chuckles and heavy pants.
“Okay, okay,” John inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to collect himself, which of course only set Evan off giggling again. “Hey, no- shut up! I’ve got a plan.”
“Okay,” Evan mimicked, trying to calm his laughter to manageable giggles. “You’re right, we gotta get this done, man.”
“Listen,” John snorted, still breathing hard even as he began motioning with his hands along with his words. “You go get the cart, we left it in the snack aisle. Then you can get chips and dip and whatever the fuck else those fuck bois wanted. I’ll get fruit, so Anthony is appeased with his health thing, and Tyler can eat something organic in order to not throw up on the rest of us.”
Evan took one final deep breath, and composed himself.
“You got it,” He agreed after a second, standing upright and stretching his arms above his head while Kryoz started looking around to try and find the fruit. Evan turned to head in the direction of their abandoned shopping cart, pulling a hand into his sleeve to raise and muffle a sudden yawn.
“Make sure you get good shit, in case the rest of us want some. Get green apples,” he tossed over his shoulder, ignoring the petulant, eyebrows-raised look John threw back at him.
The store had grown surprisingly quiet, Evan couldn’t help but notice as he made his way through the empty building. He wondered for a moment just how loud he and John had been and embarrassment flickered through him. Shit, maybe they would get kicked out.
He found their cart exactly where it’d been abandoned, in between the Chips Ahoy and the marshmallows. Evan swiped a package of each to throw in with the rest of their goodies before wheeling it (with the dramatic squeal of poorly oiled wheels), in a u-turn and heading towards the chips.
That’s where John found him, the Canadian indecisively passing bags back and forth between his hands and the shelves. Evan flashed the other a sheepish grin when John rolled his eyes and placed three bags of fruit into the cart before he swiped the package of sour cream and onion chips out of Vanoss’s hands and tossed it into the shopping cart with finality.
Evan eyed the bag sadly while the taller started to select more packages off the nearby shelves. In retaliation, he bent to start putting the bags back as John tossed them in, only for his eyes to land on a far greater disgrace.
“You bastard!”
“What?” John yelped, turning around with a half-scared expression and a bag of barbecue chips brandished in his left hand like a shield.
“You got red apples!” John stares for a second, then rolled his eyes again, snorting out a laugh before he composed himself and turned back to the shelf.
“Apologies, your majesty,” He snarked, voice mock-serious, and Evan could see him hiding a smile.
“Joooohn,” Vanoss whined exaggeratedly, because it was late and his normal social barriers were down.
“Evaaaan,” The taller replied, and he was definitely smiling now, Evan could see it for sure, and the dark haired man’s chest began to warm strangely.
“I wanted green apples, not the red ones.” Evan pouted. That was John’s breaking point, and he began to laugh all over again.
He wasn’t the only one.
John whirled and Evan stared at the sudden sound of female giggling. Both men met eyes with a woman at the end of the aisle, dressed in an employee’s uniform and laughing heavily, eyes shining.
“I’m sorry,” the girl huffed, pale fingers covering her mouth in an attempt to get her giggles under control. “It’s just married couples’ arguments are always so damn funny. You two are really cute. Best of luck with your shopping. Don’t knock over anymore bikes.” Still snickering, she turned and walked off, oblivious to the blue eyed brunette staring after her in confusion and the suddenly flabbergasted Canadian.
Vanoss blanched, feeling heat rush to his normally stoic or laughing face and burn fiercely in his cheeks. His brain sputtered as words of denial and confusion mixed with, ‘shit, really?’ lodged in his throat, all begging to be shouted at the girl’s retreating back.
Then John sighed loudly beside him.
Next thing Evan knew there was an arm around his shoulders, warm on the back of his neck, and fingers grazed his arm. John’s breath huffed right next to his ear and the Canadian froze, rigid and shocked.
“Fuck it,” Kryoz muttered, a sarcastic, teasing lilt slipping into his voice. “What’s next on the list, honey?”
Evan’s fierce, crimson blush was counteracted by the sudden giggle that forced its way out from his lips, and then he was laughing hysterically, and John was grinning at him, arm sliding down to fit snugly around Evan’s waist and hold the shorter upright and it was all so goddamn funny.
He didn’t calm down until his flushed face was turned to hide in John’s worn shirt and the brunette was letting out soft laughter of his own into Evan’s hair, and it was so warm and comfortable that Evan didn’t move, even though they were in a horribly compromising position for any argument that they weren’t a couple.
Which they weren’t, obviously.
They stayed like that, standing calmly in the aisle while Evan tried to blatantly ignore the fact that he was quite contentedly standing in another man’s arms. John snorted with laughter again, as though he could hear Evan’s thoughts.
“Shut up,” Vanoss mumbled, and John only giggled louder. Evan could hear the soft puffs of air as the brunette inhaled through his nose, felt the tickle against his throat when he breathed out. “This is gay.”
“You’re gay,” John retorted, though there was no heat to the words. If Evan hadn’t known better, and he most definitely did, they almost sounded fond.
“...Maybe a little,” Evan confessed after a beat or two of silence, hushed and suddenly deadly serious; the words sounding scared even to his own ears. John smiled slightly, a quick twitch of lips and Evan felt it against his skin.
“Nothing wrong with that,” He murmered, his arm tightening minutely around Evan’s waist, ringed fingers settling lightly against his hip and fuck if the gesture wasn’t comforting.
“No...you’re right,” Evan answered slowly, listened to the sudden pounding of his own heart in his chest, realized he really ought to have spent some more time with John an awfully long time ago, “Nothing wrong with that.”
The words were a relief to say, and Evan didn’t realize how badly he needed to hear them until they’d escaped from his own tongue. John pulled back from their embrace, though his hand still rested at Evan’s side, and suddenly the Asian was held hostage by the intense look those blue eyes gave him.
John was stunning, with his intellegent gaze and thick, wavy short hair, the tips still dusted in a platinum gradient, and what the fuck was wrong with him?
Evan felt his blush returning and fucking hell, he was not about to start waxing poetic and certainly wasn’t going to stare like a lovesick teenager. And then before he could go off on himself for even thinking the words ‘lovesick’ as a descriptor, his and John’s chests were suddenly pressed together, a strong hand at the small of his back.
“You want to know for sure?” John asked cautiously, the pressure at Evan’s spine loose enough that the Canadian could easily pull away. He didn’t, too caught up in those sinful eyes and the pounding in his ears.
John’s lips were soft, warm and chapped when they pressed against his own, their mouths slotting together, and Evan felt a jolt of fear crash through him because this was when girls left, because he didn’t feel anything- a sudden warmth flashed through Evan’s body; his chest burned and he felt lightheaded when their lips pulled apart and breaths passed between them, their gazes locked.
“Well?” John asked, a hesitant edge to his voice that Evan had never heard before.
“Well what?” He gasped back, and shit he should not have been that breathless. John’s lips twitched into a grin, his expression turning annoyingly smug.
“Are you gay?”
The words washed between them, a jesting tease and a serious question all in one and Evan knew the weight of those words, could feel the test that resided in them. John knew. They both knew, John just wanted to see if he’d admit it. Evan swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, and leaned slightly closer, their lips brushing.
“I think so,” He whispered, like a promise, a secret, like something you would only say to someone you trusted.
When John kissed him again, Evan met him back in equal, two glowing lights in the middle of a grocery store dead in the night. The aisle was flooded with bright light and gaudy chip packaging and Evan was high, practically floating at the overflowing, powerful feeling that’d wrapped its hands around his heart, that he’d never felt before.
“We really ought to buy this shit and get home,” John eventually laughed, their faces inches apart and both flushed a healthy, rosy pink; alive. All at once Evan pulled back, suddenly remembering the main issue here, and fuck John for distracting him.
“You, mother fucker, got red apples!”
Evan really did try to fight the real and genuine smile that stole across his face as John burst into joyful, lively hysterics.
You might’ve even called it fond.