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It was only his second day at Princeton University and he was already drowning. New classes, new campus, unique professors, unique roommates—and not a clue what he was doing.
Aaron Burr rushed across the courtyard at 9:59 AM, moving as quick as he could without plowing over some innocent student. He was sweating in his button up and sweater vest, pulled on with haste after he'd woken up half an hour before his 10:00 AM lecture.
He could only pray he looked normal clutching his PU brand notebooks and heavy textbook to his chest, trying not to drop his piping hot mocha latte. Aaron could only hope he didn't look like he'd rolled his ankle on the way out of the cafe earlier trying to hurry and was now running late to Bio 101.
Hope was all he had when it was only day two at his dream school and he was limping to class in unironed khakis.
Because Aaron, in all his rushing around the offensively large campus, didn't even know where he was going.
He checked his phone while he walked—limped—ignoring that it was now 10:00 and there was no way he was making it to class at in a reasonable amount of time. He'd had the building right, but stared a while longer at the room number, trying to commit the pesky little thing to memory.
209, 209, 20-
Aaron's world flipped. One minute, he was muttering "209" under his breath, and the next, he was flat on his back, wincing at the sting of his scratched up elbows on the pavement and his hot coffee, on his chest instead of in his hand.
What in the-
"Shit, are you okay, man?"
Aaron opened his eyes to the panicked voice, some guy he'd never seen before kneeled over him, panting and looking guilty. Among his own notebooks and empty, crushed coffee cup, he caught sight of a lone skateboard slowly rolling away, and put two and two together.
Great. He'd already been running late, and now he'd been wiped out by some reckless skater.
"Here, let me help you." It was the stranger again, crouching and offering his hand with an apologetic smile.
Aaron was still annoyed and down a mocha latte, but at least Skater Boy seemed to feel bad. Aaron took his hand with a quiet "thanks" and let the stranger help him up.
"Dude, I'm so sorry, that was totally my fault," Skater Boy was saying once Aaron was on his feet, already rushing to gather up his notebooks. "I was yelling, but I guess you didn't hear me, and I was going too fast to stop and completely crashed into you."
Aaron's face burned as Skater Boy stood, holding out his notebooks. So he had tried to warn him. Aaron was the distracted one, had missed his chance to move.
"Sorry." Aaron looked off as he accepted his belongings back. "I should've been more aware of my surroundings."
"Dude, no way, I'm the one with the board. It's on me to control it," Skater Boy insisted. He grabbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "To be honest, I'm still learning how to ride this thing."
Aaron bit the inside of his cheek as Skater Boy's eyes found his again. He hadn't noticed them at first—or anything about his appearance—in all the commotion. He hadn't noticed how the sun hit them and rimmed them in gold, or the freckles littering his sun-kissed skin, or the band-aid on his nose, or the coffee brown curls on his head that seemed ready to burst from their bright orange scrunchie.
God, he was cute. But Aaron was late, hadn't the time to be standing around in the courtyard and talking to cute skater boys.
"Shit, your coffee!" Skater Boy retrieved the paper cup from the ground as though just remembering, most of the contents soaked into the sidewalk and Aaron's clothes.
"It's fine." Aaron shrugged. "I had a sip."
"Dude, no, I feel so bad, let me buy you another one."
"No, really, it's fine," Aaron insisted, "I wouldn't want to inconvenience you-"
"No, man, it's the least I can do for ruining your fit."
Aaron looked down, reminded again that his brand new sweater vest was, in fact, covered in coffee. It almost did make him want compensation. But no, this guy was far too nice for his own good.
"Thanks, but I really have to get to class-" Aaron tried.
"Then I'll treat you after," Skater Boy said. "Here."
He was digging around in his overall pockets for what could only be his phone, and Aaron realized there was no getting out of Skater Boy's generosity.
"Shit, I must've left it…" Skater Boy aimlessly patted his pockets until he decided on plan b. "Here." Before Aaron knew what was happening, Skater Boy had taken his books and left Aaron his sharpie. "Write your number on my arm."
Aaron wanted to laugh, but Skater Boy was holding his arm out, and Aaron wasn't ready for this to be the last time he saw that smile.
Aaron took Skater Boy's lanky, freckled arm, and began to write. The latter snickered and Aaron eyed him quizzically.
"Sorry," Skater Boy offered. "Ticklish."
Aaron finished up and took his things back, Skater Boy hopping on his board with a promise to text him as soon as he could.
"I don't think I got your name, by the way," Skater Boy said.
"Aaron," Aaron supplied.
"A-a-ron." Skater Boy nodded. "Well, catch ya later, Aaron!"
Before Aaron could ask the same of him, he'd jetted off, disappearing into the crowd.
Aaron didn't even care he was another five minutes late as he went on his way.
Like Aaron had feared, he arrived inappropriately late to a full lecture hall where the professor was already a page into the syllabus. But he didn't mind as he took a seat in the back and slouched in his chair. It all seemed trivial with his mind still on what had gone down in the courtyard.
Aaron didn't know how long he sat, staring at the projector and listening to his professor drone on, but it was long enough for him to zone out and jump when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Three times.
He discreetly checked it, only to discover three texts from an unknown number.
[unknown]: Yo yo yo yo yo yo!
[unknown]: Found my phone under my bed haha
[unknown]: Which coffee shop we hitting up? I forgot 😅
Aaron squinted at the messages for a moment, confused, before it clicked. Skater Boy.
He didn't know why his heart lept at the realization. Perhaps he hadn't been expecting a text so soon. Perhaps he hadn't been expecting a text at all. Or perhaps he was thinking of that smile again, and those gold rimmed eyes-
Aaron typed up a quick response before he rendered himself too flustered, letting Skater Boy know he was alright and reminding him of the cafe name. Skater Boy texted back almost instantly.
[unknown]: Never heard of that spot but it must be chill since u go there
[unknown]: When u get out of class?
Though Aaron wanted to warn him it was not, in fact, "chill," he decided to keep the conversation light. He answered the question, and they decided on a time to meet, long enough after Aaron got out of class to walk to the cafe.
[unknown]: Sounds good
[unknown]: Cya Aaron 😁
Aaron was reminded again that he had no clue what this guy's name was. Too embarrassed to ask now, he saved the contact as 'sk8er boi' before slipping his phone in his pocket and sitting back in his seat.
No matter how hard he tried to focus on the syllabus, his thoughts always went back to freckled, sun-kissed skin and that sheepish smile.
Class couldn't end fast enough, and the moment he was released, Aaron was on the move. He arrived at the cafe in record time, taking in the slate walls and rich, intoxicating smell of dark roast. It had his stomach growling, a reminder he'd been deprived of his poor excuse of a breakfast.
"You're early." Skater Boy didn't sound upset, smiling he pushed off a pillar.
"I um…" Aaron hadn't been prepared for anything other than a "hello" and the innocent observation felt like an accusation, as though he'd been caught red handed honoring the meeting time. "You are too."
"I was on the way when you texted me," Skater Boy informed. "C'mon, let's go get you that coffee."
There wasn't much of a line, and Aaron reminded him of his drink order when it was their turn, which Skater Boy relayed perfectly to the cashier.
"Want a pastry or something?" Skater Boy asked.
"Oh, no," Aaron said too quick. "You're already buying my coffee, I wouldn't feel right-"
"C'mon, you gotta have something to balance out that double shot of espresso," he insisted. "Money isn't a problem, I just wanna make sure you're taken care of."
Aaron's stomach growled again as he eyed the display case of sweet, frosted delights. If the hunger didn't get him soon, this handsome stranger's kindness surely would.
"Uh…a cinnamon roll," Aaron decided. "Please."
"Sounds good." Skater Boy turned back to the cashier. "Two cinnamon rolls please. And could I also get a small hot chocolate? That's all."
"Of course. Could I get a name for the order?" The cashier asked.
"Aaron," Skater Boy answered with a brief glance and smirk at the boy in question.
Aaron felt himself blush.
They stood off to the side to await their order, during which Aaron thanked Skater Boy again, only to be met with insistence it was the "least" he could do. Aaron decided after the umpteenth time thanking this guy today, he couldn't go without knowing his name any longer, even though the question was long overdue.
"Ah, I'm sorry, I never asked for your name," Aaron said shyly.
"All good, man. It's John," John said.
"John," Aaron repeated the name quietly, tried not to forget like he'd forgotten so many before.
"Nice to officially meet you, Aaron." John offered up his hand with a grin.
Aaron shook it. "Nice to officially meet you as well, John."
It was only when Aaron was silently losing his mind during the brief contact that he noticed the soft, black fabric on John's arms, hemmed at the elbow like fingerless opera gloves.
"You're wearing arm warmers." Aaron didn't know how he hadn't noticed before, considering how good they looked on him.
"Yeah, I wasn't sure how cool you'd be with me wearing your number around town," John joked.
Cute, overly generous, and considerate?
Maybe being late to class had been worth getting wiped out by John after all.
The cashier called his name, and the two retrieved their breakfast, aimlessly wandering around the shop for an empty table.
"We might have to sit outside," John speculated after their second lap around the shop.
Aaron shook his head. "Follow me."
He led John up the thin staircase, the entrance to which was hidden by the bathrooms, shrouded in pale blue curtains. They emerged in what was more or less a parlor, three small tables for two crowded on a carpeted floor, the mounted TV on a low volume, white-yellow sunlight filtering in through the bay window.
John whistled as he spun into the room, taking in the minimalist decor. "You sure we're supposed to be up here?"
"Probably not." Aaron had figured it was some sort of employee break room. "But I've never asked and no one's ever cared."
"Sick."
They sat on the gray cushion in the window and began eating. John hummed in delight as he had the first bite of his cinnamon roll.
"What do they put in these things?" John asked, licking frosting from his lips.
"Nothing that's good for you," Aaron said as he readied himself for his own bite.
"As all the best foods are made of."
They ate and drank for another moment or so before Aaron spoke up.
"I come here to read sometimes," Aaron said quietly.
"Big reader?" John asked, mouth full. "What are you into?"
Aaron shrugged. "A little bit of everything. More historical fiction lately. The weather has me in the mood for it."
John nodded. "I like more contemporary stuff myself."
"You read?"
"What?" John grinned. "That surprising?"
"No, it's just-" Aaron cleared his throat. "Sorry, I just assumed…"
"You're fine," John assured him with a little nudge. "And chill out, you look like you're gonna explode."
"It's just…" Aaron, suddenly aware of how stiff he was sitting, tried to emulate John's slouch. "I'm not used to this."
"Used to what?"
Aaron looked off, unreasonably ashamed to admit it. "This level of generosity. I didn't know your name until a few minutes ago and you've bought me breakfast." He anxiously toyed with the fabric of his khakis, acutely aware of John's eyes on him. "You keep saying it's the least you can do, but the very least would've been an apology. This almost feels like more-"
Then he stopped himself, biting hard on the inside of his cheek, worried he'd said too much, that John would be offended, think him ungrateful.
Stupid, stupid, stupid-
"Maybe it is more than an apology." John shrugged. Aaron looked up, only to be met with John's profile, the latter gazing out the window. "Maybe somewhere between you writing your number on my arm and me watching you walk into the shop, I didn't just wanna buy your coffee and walk away." He pursed his lips, then smiled to himself. "Maybe I decided I wanna get to know you better, who you are outside of that guy I wiped out in the courtyard." He met Aaron's gaze, whose breath hitched. John spoke softly, almost apologetically, "And maybe I…hope that's alright with you?"
Aaron blinked, tried to steady his breaths. Of course he wanted to sit up here in the quiet parlor and speak to John for hours, of course he wanted to keep looking at that smile, and shamelessly stare when he licked crumbs and frosting from his lips.
But Aaron didn't have an epic monologue in him—not without a few stutters—and though John seemed to be alright with a lot of things, Aaron wasn't subjecting him to that. Instead, he nodded and gave him a shy smile.
"Yeah," Aaron said. "That's alright with me."
John's smile widened into that unfairly cute grin. "Cool."
After that, conversation felt easier in the bay window under the white-yellow sunlight, and Aaron left the cafe a few hours later with a smile, assured it wouldn't be the last time he saw John's.