Sticking two hot heads who've had it out for each other since day one didn't seem smart. But yet that's exactly what happens. Roman and Will didn't "click" together, the closest they were to having something in common was their swim team and their n...
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Roman hushed another brute cough, wiping the sweat dripping down his forehead. "Why the fuck is it so hot here?"
"It's not hot," Will barked without looking over at the complaining boy, fingers tight on the steering wheel.
"Yes, it is," Roman muttered. He reached for the dial, attempting to twist it down to get some air in the car.
Will's hand caught his before it turned. "Don't touch the AC. It might break down the car."
"Perfect. I'll just die of a heat stroke." Roman glared, sitting back in his seat to pout.
"I kind of like the heat." Will shrugged.
"Of course you do." Roman rolled his eyes.
Will pressed his lips tight, looking over to the road then back at Roman. After a long drawn-out silence, Will slowly rolled the window down. It didn't help much, considering it was just as hot outside. He flatly said, "Stop being dramatic."
Roman instantly snapped his head. "Oh, you love it."
The brunet pressed a playful smile, "You're right, I love it, babe."
Roman immediately froze up and mumbled, "Don't call me that."
Will laughed, reached out with his free hand, and gripped Roman's hand carefully. Roman looked down at their connected hands, consoling in the warmth instead of complaining about it.
It was stupid, he thought, how something so small could make his chest feel cracked open. Roman liked the small things with Will, their inside quips, their teasing jokes, the subtle touches, the sharing grins. Even now, he pretended that holding his hand irritated him. But he secretly hid his smile from Will, gripping onto the brunet's hand harder as he looked out at the passing trees.
The last weeks had seemed to be a blur of spending too much time kissing and lounging in the hot sun as they fell into this domestic flow.
Somewhere in all that, maybe two weeks ago, they seemed to stop being 'friends' or 'fuck buddies'. It wasn't as good a dramatic drunk confession in the ocean that Roman had experienced, it was more simple.
Neither of them could remember the exact date or moment, but all they recalled was a stupid argument over a grocery clerk.
"Oh please, she was all over you," Roman complained, placing all the grocery bags on the table.
"So what? It's not like anything happened." Will glared, throwing the keys on the table.
"So what? I have to bat away all these people trying to get a piece of you." Roman gaped, aggressively taking out the evidence of their grocery shopping.
"She wasn't trying to get a piece of me." Will continued with a tired look.
"I guess this is what I get for dating someone so hot." Roman threw out, clicking his tongue as he walked away.
