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If Oliver tried just a little bit harder, he could probably avoid situations like this. Unfortunately, he doesn’t try harder. Which is why he’s pacing around Benjamin’s living room, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and his head pounding out a staccato rhythm in his chest. There’s no easy way to broach the subject. He and Benjamin have been through a lot together, but this might be the thing that finally breaks them apart.
“For the love of—Oliver, what’s going on?”
Oliver raises his hand to chew on a hangnail. “Thanksgiving is coming up.”
Benjamin smiles indulgently. He’s probably been smiling like that for a while; he’s been sitting quietly on the couch for about five minutes while Oliver has paced around. “Yep. It sure is.”
“You know how families do that thing where they always ask you about your love life and it’s always the worst because yes, grandma, I am getting older and no, auntie Muriel, I’m not dating anyone ?”
“Yes,” Benjamin answers, nodding. Then his brow furrows. “Do you actually have an aunt Muriel?”
“Am I Harry Potter? No! Who actually has an auntie Muriel?”
Benjamin snorts. “Not Harry Potter. He’s got the Dursleys. I think Muriel was a Weasley.”
“Oh. Huh. Well, my terrible Harry Potter trivia skills aside…” He bounces slightly on the balls of his feet, still chewing on the hangnail. “You know what I mean, right?”
“I do. Is this is a general rant or is there a point?”
“There’s a point! I have a point!” Oliver waves his arms a little frantically and takes a deep breath. “Did you ever lie to your family just to get them off your back?”
Benjamin shrugs, looking slightly to the side as he thinks. Oliver can see the way he’s chewing on the inside of his lip and the way his eyebrows pull together to create an endearing wrinkle right in the middle of his forehead. “Not really,” he says. “I mean, that was the benefit of knowing Isabelle for so long. I just got teased about her, and then we were dating and married, and, well. We usually spent the holidays with her family, so there was no reason to lie.”
Oliver cringes. Of course. Benjamin’s relationship with his dad is rocky, and Isabelle had provided the perfect excuse to avoid going home. In the last few years, since the divorce, Benjamin’s been going for one perfunctory day, only because he has Ellie, and otherwise avoiding any interaction. Oliver figures the holiday family interrogation is probably worse for Benjamin than it is for him, given the seemingly innate desire for family gossip and the messiness of the divorce. This makes broaching the subject feel even more daunting and is definitely something that Oliver should’ve thought about before everything spiralled to this point.
Once again: if Oliver tried just a little bit harder…
“Why do you ask?” Benjamin presses, startling him out of his thoughts.
“Oh, uh…” Oliver scrambles for a way out of it. He could tell his family that Benjamin wasn’t comfortable, or that he was sick, or that Oliver himself was sick. That still doesn’t help him get out of this conversation, though.
Benjamin is staring pointedly at him. “Ollie. Come on. I don’t know what’s happening inside your head unless you tell me.”
“My moms might be under the impression that we’re dating,” Oliver blurts, looking at his feet as he kicks at the carpet. “They just...they’re worried about me, you know, and I already talk about you enough that it seemed like—it just kind of came out and they think we’ve been dating for like, four months? And they want you to come over for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Benjamin blinks. “…it’s my year with Ellie.”
It’s not a no.
“Oh, right, yeah. I knew that. I figured that you’d...already have plans, and such, so it’s no big deal!” Oliver forces a shaky laugh. “I mean, it’s a weird thing to ask, anyway, I know that, and I totally get it if you’re uncomfortable, or whatever and, uh. It’s just. You’re my best friend, so it was a...believable...lie.”
Something happens on Benjamin’s face as he finishes speaking, but it’s a complicated series of expressions that Oliver can’t interpret. He’s looking at Oliver again, at least, which is nice. Oliver always likes it when Benjamin looks at him, which is definitely something he should be over at this point, but there’s something about having his best friend’s attention that sends tingles running up his spine, even now.
Benjamin opens and closes his mouth a few times.
Oliver starts chewing on his hangnail again.
“Four months? They think we’ve been dating for four months?”
Oliver nods. “They started bugging me about it at their anniversary dinner. Oh, when are you going to find someone, Oliver? and Oliver, we just want you to be happy . Which is great, and all, and I appreciate that they’re looking out for me, but… Well, you know. It’s annoying. I know that they worry about me, especially since…” He coughs, avoiding the words. Benjamin nods anyway. “ Anyway . Then Elliot asked me when the last time I went on a date was, and this was just after we’d gone to that stupid play together, the community theatre one that you won the tickets for by donating to their raffle? So I told them about that, and then they asked who I went with, and I just. Said your name without thinking.”
Benjamin hums. “You’re gonna end up in a lot of trouble if you don’t think through your lies.”
“Elliot didn’t believe me at first,” Oliver moans. “He said that I couldn’t claim that as a date because we’re just friends, so I got defensive and said that it actually was because we’d agreed that it was and that I was pretty sure we were going to keep dating. And then I just...never went back on that.”
Oliver leaves out the way his moms had reacted to the news. His mama had put her hands to her chest like she was having a religious experience, cooing about how she was so glad that they’d worked out that way. His mom had just snorted and muttered, “About time.” Oliver hadn’t had the courage to ask what she meant by that, but he has a sneaking suspicion that it’s to do with the moon-sized crush he’d had on Benjamin in high school and the absolutely smitten look he’d never been able to hide from his moms.
He’s not going to tell Benjamin about that , though.
“But that’s it, that’s all you’ve told them?”
“Well, sometimes I mention things we’ve been doing together and let them believe that they’re dates, but I don’t make anything up.”
“Other than the relationship,” Benjamin points out, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Yeah,” Oliver agrees, feeling his cheeks heat up and praying that Benjamin doesn’t see him turning pink. “Apart from that.”
Benjamin nods a few times. “Well, that’s good. I don’t want to have to lie to Ellie.”
Oliver stills, dropping his hands by his sides and staring at Benjamin. “What?”
“I’m not going to lie to my daughter ,” Benjamin repeats, looking at Oliver like he’s the one behaving oddly (which is fair enough; Oliver is usually the one fulfilling that part of their dynamic). “But if you haven’t told them anything new, then I don’t have to try to keep two different stories straight.”
“You’ll come? You’ll do this?”
Benjamin gives Oliver a look that is somehow both flat and fond. “Isn’t this what we do? Help each other out? Of course, I’ll help you lie to your family.”
Oliver feels relief rush through him. “Thanks, man.”
“Anytime.” Benjamin rolls his eyes. “Preferably with more notice next time, but whatever works. Ellie will be excited—our thanksgiving plans were takeout and watching the Macy’s Parade on TV. This will be much more fun for her.”
Oliver smiles. He loves Ellie to pieces and is glad to hear that she’ll be excited by this turn of events. “Yeah, and we can tell my moms that we haven’t told Ellie yet, so they won’t expect any, uh... overt PDA, or anything.”
“See?” Benjamin teases, leaning forward in his seat so he can grab Oliver’s wrist and tug him onto the couch. “It’s all coming together.”
“Thank you, Benny. I owe you one. Or seven. Or whatever you think the equivalent is,” Oliver says sincerely. This is such a ridiculous request and he’s endlessly touched that Benjamin is agreeing to it. He’ll do anything to make it up to him, whatever he wants.
Benjamin huffs. “Come to Christmas with my dad? I think seeing me with a guy after being divorced might finally break him.”
“If you’re serious, yeah, I’ll do that.”
“No, Ollie.” Benjamin rolls his eyes. “I’m not serious. You think I’m going to put you through Christmas with my dad? He moved out of state six months ago and that’s a wonderful excuse to never see him again. I’ll...find some other way for you to repay me.”
Oliver really isn’t thinking clearly, because he says, “That sounds like the beginning of a porno.”
It says a lot about their friendship that Benjamin just snorts and says, “I don’t think most pornos have a fake-dating plot.”
Oliver sniffs and playfully raises his nose in the air. “Maybe they should.”
Shaking his head, Benjamin says, “Idiot.”
Somehow, it’s never insulting when he’s the one saying it.
On the day of, Benjamin comes to pick up Oliver. He has to drive past the mall to get to Oliver’s house from his, but with stores closed for the holiday, he says it’s not too bad of a journey, and this way it’s much easier to deal with Ellie’s booster seat. Benjamin unlocks the passenger side door just in time for Oliver to tug on the handle, like he’d been anticipating it, and Oliver slides inside with a grin.
“Door to door service,” he says as he buckles in. “I feel like I’m getting the star treatment.”
As though on cue, Ellie kicks the back of his seat.
Oliver twists around to peek at her, already grinning ear-to-ear. Ellie matches his expression almost perfectly, revealing a gap where one of her front teeth used to be. “How’s my favourite girl? Did the Tooth Fairy spoil you rotten?” he asks, as if he hadn’t dropped a few quarters into the cup by her bed when he’d been over two nights before, helping Benjamin tuck her in.
“I got three whole dollars,” she tells him proudly.
He feigns shock. “Three whole dollars? The Tooth Fairy never gave me that much for my teeth. Must be inflation.”
Ellie frowns, tilting her head. “What’s inflation?”
Benjamin snorts. Oliver spends the rest of the journey to his parent’s house trying to explain the concept of a failing economy to a six-year-old, which eventually culminates in one “ Why ?” too many and him answering, “I really wish I could tell you, kid. It doesn’t make much sense to me either.”
“Maybe if you’d paid more attention in math class…” Benjamin teases, looking over at Oliver fondly as he parallel parks. Oliver refuses to be impressed by how easily he does it.
“I’m not the one who fell asleep,” Oliver says primly.
Benjamin shakes his head and holds up a finger right in Oliver’s face. “One time,” he says. “And I was seven.”
“Definitely more than once,” Oliver stage whispers to Ellie. “You’re not going to be like your dad, right?”
Ellie giggles and shakes her head, scrambling to get out of her booster seat before Benjamin even has time to open the child lock. As she pulls repeatedly on the door handle, despite it obviously being locked, Benjamin meets Oliver’s eyes over the roof of the car. “She gets that from you, you know. Tried to get ahead of it by unlocking your door before you got there today, but clearly it didn’t work.”
“And here I thought you were just being a gentleman,” Oliver sighs, ignoring the way his stomach flips at the idea of Ellie getting anything from him.
Benjamin opens Ellie’s door and helps her down onto the street. “If I was being a gentleman, I would’ve actually held the door for you.”
“Wasted,” Oliver says, putting a hand dramatically over his chest. “Come on, Ellie. Your dad is being mean to me, so I’m going to give you whipped cream before supper.”
“Yes!” Ellie pumps her little fist in the air, taking Oliver’s hand while they cross the street. Benjamin follows just a step behind, holding their combined Thanksgiving offering: an insanely sweet potato casserole and a chocolate cream pie. They’d cooked together, the three of them, the other night—right before Ellie lost her tooth. She’d helped them mix ingredients and had dutifully supervised as Oliver took things in and out of the oven, directing her dad to stay back so that he wouldn’t get burned. It had been shockingly domestic, preparing for the holiday together, but it had felt natural and comfortable and Ellie had, per Benjamin’s prediction, been excited about the idea of seeing Oliver’s family for Thanksgiving. Her only question, which she repeats now, had been, “Is Elliot going to be there?”
Oliver laughs. “You know he is.”
She nods seriously. “I’m going to tell him about the Tooth Fairy.”
“I’m sure he’ll love that,” Oliver says. “My mom and my mama will want to hear about it too, though, so maybe save it for all of them.”
“I can tell them too,” Ellie says, and Oliver gets the impression that they will be hearing about the Tooth Fairy several times this evening.
He opens the front door and Ellie darts off without a backwards glance, shouting for Elliot. Oliver shouts out a greeting to his moms and then steps aside to hold the door for Benjamin and his armful of food. “Because I’m a gentleman,” he teases, sticking his tongue out. Benjamin looks like he’d do something about it if his arms weren’t full.
Oliver’s mama appears in the entryway, already beaming. It falters when she catches sight of them, looking pointedly at Oliver. “Really, baby? You’re going to make your guest carry everything? Here, Benjamin, let me take that off you.”
“And he claims he’s such a gentleman” Benjamin shoots out, grinning. “It’s really okay, Mrs Todaro, I’ll set it down in the kitchen for you.”
“Call me Jodie, Benjamin, how many times do I have to tell you?”
“At least one more, Mrs Todaro.”
“It gets confusing when there’s two of us.” Oliver’s mom comes around the corner to stand by her wife, also smiling at Benjamin’s presence. She looks warmly between him and Oliver. Oliver has only a second to regret all of his life choices before his mom adds, “Maybe you’ll understand the struggle one day.”
“ Mom ,” Oliver says, mortified.
Benjamin just laughs, though Oliver can sense some awkwardness underneath it. “Maybe we’d hyphenate. Opposite orders, you know. Distinguish us.”
Oliver glances at Benjamin, protests dying in his mouth. He’s not sure how to react to what’s just been said. When his moms laugh and coo and head back to the kitchen (having somehow gotten Benjamin to give up the food to them in the meantime), Oliver grabs Benjamin’s sleeve, stopping him while he kicks off his shoes. “You know it’s only four months, right? That—that they think we’ve been dating. You don’t have to sound so serious about it.”
Benjamin rolls his eyes and leans closer. In a whisper that raises goosebumps on Oliver’s neck, he replies, “I’ve been married before, Oliver. If we were dating, I’d be serious about it.”
Elliot is listening intently to Ellie’s rambling stories when Benjamin and Oliver finally make it to the dining room. A Todaro Thanksgiving is always a relatively intimate affair, especially this year, since his mama’s brother is spending the holiday with his new girlfriend’s family, so there isn’t anyone else to capture Ellie’s attention. Elliot doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s nodding along to her story, repeating, “ Three dollars? I only ever got one!”
“It’s inflation,” Ellie says wisely.
Elliot looks up at Oliver to mask his obvious surprise.
Benjamin snorts again, this time burying his laugh in Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver tries to hide his surprise by smiling at Benjamin’s hair. He’d told his parents exactly what he’d told Benjamin that he would—that they hadn’t told Ellie yet and weren’t sure when that conversation would happen—so he’d expected Benjamin to take that as a way to avoid physical displays of affection. Not that he and Benjamin never touch. They’ve been known to press their shoulders together while they walk and they hug frequently and easily. When they stay up too late on weekends when Ellie is with her mom, they sometimes end up knocking their heads together while they laugh over stupid things. Oliver still hadn’t expected it to happen here, with no real prompting, just off-the-cuff and startlingly normal. Elliot barely even reacts to it.
In fact, he’s already returned his attention to Ellie by the time Oliver has recovered, listening as she relays the plot of a recent episode of My Little Pony. He nods seriously as she lists off names and colours, making a point to tell him which of the characters is Oliver’s favourite.
“Hey, Ellie-llie,” Benjamin cuts in. “Let’s go wash your hands for dinner, okay?”
“’Kay.” Ellie leaps up to follow her dad, leaving Oliver alone with his brother.
Elliot raises his eyebrows. “You have a favourite My Little Pony?”
“I will not tolerate Applejack slander in this household,” Oliver informs him. He sinks into the chair next to Elliot’s. “You try watching hundreds of episodes and see if you don’t end up with one that you like best.”
“So you’re pretty tight with Ellie, then.”
Oliver furrows his eyebrows. “You know I am. She’s been around enough that she has a soft spot for you . You know, she kept asking if you were going to be here.”
“Which makes sense because I’m her favourite uncle,” Elliot says, like it’s a given. “And I’m not even technically her uncle yet. I’ve got to be the best favourite uncle of all favourite uncles.”
Oliver fights a blush and definitely loses.
“What I don’t get,” Elliot says, “is why you haven’t told her that you’re dating.”
“What do you mean? It’s only been a few months.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Oliver frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Elliot rolls his eyes. “You realise I used to hang around you two in high school, right? You two have always been something , even if you didn’t acknowledge it. I was a kid and I could see it.”
“He was dating Isabelle.” Oliver shakes his head. He knows he had a somewhat pitiful crush on Benjamin in those days, one that maybe faded with time but didn't necessarily go completely away, even if he had been genuinely happy for him and Isabelle, in the years since. “He was married to Isabelle. They have a kid together. You can’t pretend that Benjamin and I have always been something without pretending that he and Isabelle weren’t , and that’s not fair. He loved her. He didn’t love me.”
“Maybe not then ,” Elliot allows, shrugging. “But that doesn’t mean you didn’t always have something special between the two of you. And if you’re actually willing to act on it now, then you must be pretty serious about each other.”
Oliver thinks of Benjamin’s words in the entryway and fights a blush once again. “We’ve talked about it.”
“So when does Ellie get to know? You know she’d be over the moon.”
“That’s…” he means to say none of your business , but Elliot isn’t being invasive enough to warrant sass. Oliver just feels uncomfortable and defensive, caught up in a lie that he has to admit he wishes was true. “Up to Benjamin,” he finishes instead, because that feels fair. “He’s her dad. He gets to decide how fast or slow this goes and how much his daughter knows about it.”
Elliot hums. “He should work on being more subtle, then.”
“What?” Oliver asks, but Benjamin and Ellie choose that moment to return. Ellie barrels into Oliver’s side, crawling up to sit on his lap. He wraps an arm loosely around her waist to hold her steady while she plays with one of the green napkins on the table. She immediately resumes talking to Elliot about her show, leaning her head back against Oliver’s chest when she wants him to contribute.
Across the table, Benjamin watches them with his mouth twisted into a small smile, his eyes crinkled softly in the corners. Oliver meets his eyes a few times while Ellie talks, and Benjamin’s smile widens, just a fraction, every time.
After dinner and before pie, Oliver’s mama raises her glass and says, “I’m grateful to spend a day with my family. It’s always so lovely to get my boys back home.”
“I only moved out like three months ago!” Elliot teases, bumping into their mama’s side with a laugh. “ I’m grateful for a space of my own.”
“Oh, well, I see!” their mama sputters, but she’s laughing too. “I’m very proud of you, you know.”
“I know,” Elliot says, and the laughter subsides for something genuine.
Their mom goes next. “I’m grateful for snow and for candles,” she says. “And for my wife, and the family we made together, and for the chance to watch my sons make their families.”
It’s Oliver’s turn to protest, but all he can manage is a tsk . Whatever he and Benjamin really are to each other, it’s no secret that he and Ellie are part of Oliver’s family. Denying that would be a bigger lie than pretending that they’re dating, and that’s saying something. When his family looks at him expectantly, he swallows. “I’m grateful that Benjamin and Ellie came with me today,” he says, because it’s true. Then, because it’s Thanksgiving and sappiness is expected, he adds, “They make my life better every time I get to spend a day with them.”
Benjamin presses their shoulders together and smiles. Their hands brush under the table and Oliver has to fight the urge to grab Benjamin’s, to squeeze it, to say something more that he’ll definitely regret.
“I’m grateful for the invite,” Benjamin says, and despite the way the invitation was presented, Oliver can tell that he means it. “I have lots of good memories in this house and I’m always grateful that you all made me a part of the family way back when. You have no idea how much it meant to me—means to me—to know that I have a place here. I love you guys.”
Benjamin is looking at the tablecloth as he speaks, something bashful about his words. Oliver doesn’t take his hand, but he does toss an arm across the back of Benjamin’s chair to squeeze his shoulder. It’s more like their usual affection, even if the context might make it look like more. Benjamin raises his eyes just enough to look at Oliver’s face, expression all but unreadable.
After some flustered thank-yous and of-courses from the parents, Benjamin laughs a little and gently pokes Ellie. “What about you, baby girl? What are you grateful for?”
Ellie looks around the table like she’s considering how best to answer. “My Little Pony,” she finally settles on. “And the Tooth Fairy. She gave me three dollars.”
The laughter that follows is loud and kind. Oliver doesn’t move his arm from Benjamin’s chair.
It’s pitch dark by the time they make it back to Oliver’s house. Though they aren’t particularly a football family, the Todaros do like to watch the Superbowl commercials and pick their favourites, the debates about which last far longer than they should. Benjamin had strong opinions, arguing his points like a lawyer, and Oliver had ended up swayed to his side.
“Rigged!” Elliot had shouted. “Benjamin has an unfair advantage!”
Aside from the teasing, their plan had gone off without a hitch. It could have been a lot worse, all things told, and as much as his family will be disappointed when Oliver either stages an amicable break-up or eventually comes clean, he knows that nothing will change how they feel about Benjamin and Ellie.
Ellie is asleep in the backseat, her face squished up against her shoulder, her seatbelt twisted around from her insisting that she could do it herself. It’s adorable. Oliver snaps a picture before turning back around.
“I had a good time,” Benjamin tells him in a whisper. The radio is softly playing Christmas music, because no one knows the virtue of patience anymore. “Thanks for the invite, seriously. I love your family.”
“They love you,” Oliver whispers back. I love you , he thinks, and knows it would be easy to say it.
Benjamin parks outside Oliver’s house, and Oliver is surprised when he opens his own door too. They both close them softly, careful not to wake Ellie, and sit on the hood. Back in high school, they used to sit like this after debate club or science study sessions, reluctant to part ways when they still had things to say to each other. They hadn’t stopped when Benjamin started dating Isabelle. It had just started happening less and less as their lives got busier, and then they had their own houses and spaces to invite the other to, instead of sitting out in the cold. Shortly after Benjamin’s divorce, they’d gone for a drive and ended up parked on some random road, sitting just like this. It’s strange to think that was almost four years ago.
“You’re my best friend,” Benjamin says.
“Shocker,” Oliver teases.
Benjamin shoves him. “Shut up. It’s important to me that you know that. You’re my best friend in the entire world and I’d…”
Oliver gives him almost a full minute before he prompts, “You’d…?”
“I’d do anything for you,” he says, shaking himself out of whatever reverie he’d fallen into. “Anything, and I mean that.”
“You proved that today.” He looks up at the sky. It looks like it’s going to snow. “Like I said, I owe you one. Or seven.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Kinda feel like I do.”
Benjamin shrugs. “You’ve always been here for me. That’s more than enough.”
I love you , Oliver thinks again. This time, he works up the nerve to say so out loud. “I love you, man. You know that. You’re stuck with me forever.”
Benjamin turns to look at him. “Hope so,” he says softly. “That’s the plan.”
For a foolish second, Oliver thinks he’s about to be kissed.
It starts to snow.
“You should, uh,” Oliver clears his throat. “You should probably get the little one home before the weather gets worse.”
Benjamin blinks. “Yeah,” he agrees, voice somewhat strangled. “You’re probably right.”
It takes Oliver a long time to fall asleep. He keeps replaying his conversation with Elliot and his conversation with Benjamin on repeat in his head, getting his hopes up and then immediately squashing them down. He wakes up groggy and confused, endlessly grateful that he doesn’t work in retail, and spends his morning milling mindlessly around the house, still wearing his pyjamas as the clock ticks past noon.
He doesn’t hear from anyone. By anyone, of course, he means Benjamin. It’s not surprising. He knows that Isabelle was coming to pick up Ellie for the weekend, getting her for an extra day since Benjamin celebrated the holiday with her, and that Benjamin always takes forever to clean up after Ellie leaves. He’ll get a text sometime in the afternoon, provided that he hasn’t ruined everything. Benjamin had seemed genuine last night, but he knows that the next time they talk, instead of scheming a relationship, they’ll be scheming how to end one. Oliver knows Benjamin was just doing him a favour, and he needs his heart to get the memo before they have to interact again.
He turns on the tv just for background noise and doesn’t listen to the football recaps.
He’s just barely starting to dose—his phone facedown on the end table furthest from him, where it can’t tempt him to keep refreshing his messages—when the doorbell rings.
Ignoring it seems like a good option, until it rings again, and again.
Oliver drags himself off the couch and down the hall to the door, yawning so hard that his jaw clicks.
“Hi,” Benjamin says when the door swings open. His car door is still open, like he’s barely had time to get out before he’d been ringing for Oliver.
“Uh. Hi?” Oliver says back. “Did we have plans? I feel like I would remember if we had plans.”
Benjamin shakes his head. “No. I just needed—I mean…”
“Benny?”
Benjamin takes a deep breath. “I should’ve kissed you yesterday and I didn’t,” he says. Oliver feels his brain immediately short-circuit. “And I’ve been rehearsing what to say to you the whole way over but the crux of it is that I love you. It was easy to pretend to be in love with you because I wasn’t pretending and it was easy to tell your moms that we were dating because we practically were. I kept thinking all day I was supposed to be there, at that family thanksgiving, I felt like I fit, like Ellie and I fit, and that’s because we love you. I love you so much. And if you’ll have me, Oliver, if you want me to be—I’m yours.”
Oliver blinks, opens his mouth, closes it, and blinks again. “You,” he starts.
“I,” Benjamin agrees, his smile nervous but his voice steady.
“You have to drive past the mall to get to my house from yours!”
Benjamin falters. “Yes,” he says slowly. “I don’t—I think you’re missing the bigger thing here.”
“Are you kidding?!” Oliver beams. “Driving through mall traffic on Black Friday ? That’s love, bitch.”
He pulls Benjamin in by his sweater, and kisses him the way he should have the night before. Benjamin seems eager to reciprocate.
“ Mall traffic ,” he repeats a few minutes later. “If I’d known mall traffic was all it took to impress you…”
“ You’re all it takes to impress me.”
“Sap,” Benjamin says. When Oliver gins, he’s expecting to be kissed.
(He’s right.)
the end
marianara_sauce Wed 20 Aug 2025 01:03PM UTC
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