Scott stood on Charlie’s porch, holding a bunch of flowers in his hand and wondering if he was about to look like an idiot.
Maybe guys didn’t give each other flowers. He had no one to ask, no one that would take the question seriously, anyway. He’d thought of Dylan, but he didn’t want to tell him that he was suddenly dating—or hoping to date—another man. Not after he’d just awkwardly told him he was straight.
It felt like the kind of thing he wanted to keep to himself, just for now. Just until he was sure of Charlie.
Just until he knew he wasn’t going to screw this up so badly that Charlie never spoke to him again.
The flowers probably wouldn’t do that. Charlie might think it was dumb, but he probably wouldn’t dump Scott over it.
Hopefully.
Taking a deep breath, Scott convinced himself to ring the doorbell, his heart pounding so hard that he didn’t even hear the sound past the rushing in his ears.
He did hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs a moment later, though. Heavy, enthusiastic-sounding footsteps.
The door swung open in front of him, revealing Charlie in older, more faded jeans than he usually wore at work and a baggier sweater with a hole in the sleeve that he had his thumb shoved through.
Sometimes, Charlie seemed older than he was. More mature. Right now, in his old jeans, loose sweater and oversized glasses, he looked twenty-four.
He looked a lot less intimidating than usual. Not that Scott was afraid of him, but he always seemed so put-together that he felt a little untouchable sometimes. Scott had felt weird about messing up his hair even when Charlie was sucking his cock.
This was a softer, warmer Charlie, and Scott liked it a lot.
“You are on time down to the second, and I do not have shoes on,” Charlie said, brushing a wet strand of hair away from his face.
Scott couldn’t stop staring at him. He was adorable right now, in a way Scott had never seen before. This was clearly not the way Charlie presented himself to most of the world. Not with wet hair and no shoes.
Obviously, Scott had managed to get past a wall. That felt like a huge achievement, like he was someone special.
“I can wait,” Scott said.
Charlie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You can come inside. Or you can drag me out in my socks,” he said. Scott looked down automatically, and Charlie wriggled his toes again.
A bubble of joy was growing in Scott’s chest, uncomplicated happiness at being around a comfortable, relaxed Charlie.
Scott slipped past him, into the hallway. “These are for you, by the way,” he handed over the multi-colored bouquet he’d picked up on advice from the florist, who said he knew Charlie.
Of course he did. Charlie knew every gay man in town, and the florist was definitely gay.
Scott was learning to spot that, now. He felt like an idiot for being so slow before, especially with Charlie.
He was starting to think that maybe he’d been slow because he’d been afraid of being attracted to him. It wasn’t the worst explanation.
Charlie’s face lit up as Scott offered him the flowers, taking them with both hands and holding them close to his chest. “I thought maybe they were for my mom,” he said, but he didn’t sound disappointed at all.
“I’m sure your mom is super nice, but I’m here for you,” Scott said. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to give you flowers, but I figured it couldn’t hurt, right?”
“No one’s ever given me flowers before,” Charlie murmured, staring between Scott and the bouquet in his hands. “I… need to put them in a vase, I think.”
Scott breathed a sigh of relief. He’d done the right thing, even if it was weird. Charlie liked it. That was all that mattered.
He didn’t need to do the normal things that guys liked. He needed to do the things that Charlie liked.
“How did you know I liked these?” Charlie asked as he walked into the kitchen, setting the flowers on the counter carefully and searching through the cupboards. Presumably, for a vase.
He clearly didn’t get them often if he had to go hunting for something to put them in.
“Totally cheated, asked the florist.”
“Lexi?” Charlie asked, looking up from the cupboard he had his head in. He extracted what could only be described as a milkshake glass, looked between it and the flowers, pursed his lips thoughtfully, and then put it on the counter.
It wasn’t a vase, but it would probably work.
“Uh, yeah. I think so. Is he an ex?”
“He’s my cousin.” Charlie smiled wryly. “I mentioned them to him when he did the flowers for Owen’s wedding. Uh. Owen’s second wedding. We were still in school for the first one. He’s actually a year older than me, but when we were little, people thought we were twins sometimes.”
Scott wouldn’t have said twins, but now that Charlie had mentioned it, he could see a family resemblance between them.
He was starting to think Charlie was related to half the town, which might have explained why he didn’t already have a boyfriend.
“That makes more sense. I was a little afraid that if he was your ex he’d give me something you were allergic to or hated or something, but I didn’t have anything else to go on.”
Apparently they were Allium, which meant nothing to Scott at all beyond being the name of a flower Charlie liked.
“You worry too much,” Charlie said, filling the glass he’d gotten out with water and arranging the flowers in it gently. “I like these because they remind me of dandelions, but prettier. Did you ever make wishes on dandelions as a kid?”
“Yeah, but I could never get all the seeds to blow off in one breath,” Scott said. “Unlucky, I guess.”
Charlie walked around the counter, stopping in front of Scott. He took both of Scott’s hands, squeezing them once, and then leaning in close to kiss him. It was just a quick kiss, a brief brush of Charlie’s lips against his own, but it left Scott blushing.
He could feel himself falling for Charlie, and he wasn’t inclined to do anything to stop it.
“Sweet boys who bring flowers get lucky,” Charlie said, smiling a slow, warm smile.
Scott’s stomach swooped at the thought. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but he’d gotten supplies and squirrelled them away in his bedroom just in case.
“Do sweet boys who kick your ass at bowling still get lucky?” Scott grinned. He definitely liked the idea of taking Charlie home with him, but he wanted to get to the date part, first.
This wasn’t just about sex. It wasn’t even mostly about sex. For Scott, it was mostly about spending more time with someone he really liked. Someone he felt like he was on the same wavelength with.
Not that he was about to refuse sex or anything. The first taste had been hot, and he was definitely up for more.
“What makes you think that you could possibly kick my ass at bowling?” Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I know my way around a bowling ball,” Scott said. He liked to think he could hold his own, though it had been years since he’d played.
Charlie laughed a warm, deep laugh that ran all the way down Scott’s spine. “Okay. I’m gonna put my ass-kicking shoes on, and then you’re gonna walk me to the bowling alley. I assume.”
“I don’t have a car, so yeah. We’re walking.” Scott shrugged.
“Good.” Charlie said, heading into the hall and toeing a pair of well-loved sneakers on, balancing against the wall one-handed as he flipped the backs over his heels. “Walking makes a good warm-up.”
Scott followed Charlie out onto the porch, and then, with a surge of confidence, offered his hand.
Charlie took it, squeezing, lightly, and then tugging him away from the house and out onto the street, in the direction of town. It really wasn’t a long walk, and it was a nice night for it.
All the nights in Hope Springs were nice. Peaceful. People didn’t drive so much here, and Scott had passed at least a dozen folks walking on his way to Charlie’s house.
It was nice to live somewhere a little on the quiet side.
It was nice to be able to hold hands and walk to a first date.
It was going to be even nicer to kick Charlie’s ass at bowling.