“Okay, that’s all for today. Sorry we ran a little over time there,” Oscar apologized, glancing at the clock on the pale lavender wall of the studio. “You were all doing so well I didn’t want to stop you before the routine was finished.”

He wrapped up the class the same as the rest—congratulating individual students who had progressed in even these three classes, answering questions, and assigning homework to a couple of students who wanted to learn more about moves that had challenged them.

He’d already figured out that adults were a challenge in some ways to teach, having more hang-ups, but the ones who were eager to learn were a joy.

“Matt can help you register for a trial class at the front desk,” he promised a student who was asking about taking a second weekly class with him.

“Yo,” Matt greeted, waving as he leaned on the door between the bright front reception and the more carefully-controlled environment of the studio. “Follow me up there.”

A few minutes later, when the last of the students had packed up and left, Roman joined Matt at the front desk. “So?”

“Three students. It’s a start,” Matt told him with a bright smile. “I know it’s not a great start compared to you, but… letting us live here for free is more than I could ever ask for.”

“It’s a start,” Oscar shook his head. “My class is just about full anyway. I don’t think I can take on more than one more without teaching quality suffering. I’ll start sending other students over to you.”

“I didn’t expect there to be such a demand,” Matt admitted. “You saw something here. Anyway, I’m ramping up the Facebook ads, and emailing the newspapers again today.”

“See? It’s not letting you and Ben crash here for free. You’re earning your keep. As soon as you start promoting your classes…”

“Yeah.” Matt drew a breath, then high-fived him. “Right. Go have lots of kinky Valentine’s sex, you animal.”

Oscar lit up with a grin. “You too. No more holes in the wall, or you’re learning to drywall.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Matt laughed, but he didn’t look it.

“Liar,” Oscar winked. “See you tomorrow.”

His smile was bright as he trotted down the street to his car. He had to get home a little early today so he could start supper in time for it to be ready when Roman was home from work.

It was his home now, too. Enough of his personal effects had snuck into their shared spaces, and Roman had eagerly made room for them. The guest room seemed like a long-ago memory.

Supper wasn’t quite out of the oven when the door rattled and Oscar jumped. Roman was early? How inconvenient.

“Hey, honey. I’m home,” Roman called out.

He not-very-secretly liked being greeted at the door, so Oscar shrugged off his underwear and tossed it into the laundry bin. Naked behind the apron, he strolled up to the front door to greet Roman. “Hi, lover.”

“Oh. Oh, hello!” Roman was carrying something behind his back. He glanced up. “Something smells good.”

“And it’s not just you.” Oscar stretched onto tiptoe and kissed Roman thoroughly before letting go. “So? What are you hiding, Mr. Slick?”

“Takeout,” Roman admitted and laughed. “Oops.” In his other hand, though, he had a bouquet.

Oscar peeked in the bag, then leaned down to sniff the bouquet. He beamed at Roman in approval of his choices and leaned in to kiss him again. “They’re gorgeous.”

“The food or the flowers?”

“Both. You’re home early, though. Did you break the air speed limit? No, don’t explain plane speed limits to me,” Oscar held up a hand as Roman drew a breath. “Not until after the great sex.”

“When you’re going to sleep, you mean?” Roman grinned.

“That’s right.”

Roman laughed. “Whose supper do we eat? We should schedule this next year, who’s doing it.”

“How about both?”

“Combine… beef and mashed potatoes… with Thai?” Roman grinned. “Sure. Why not?”

“It’s our Valentine’s. It can’t be quite normal,” Oscar pointed out.

Even after two months of living together, Oscar felt young at heart every time he and Roman laughed together.

Roman found a vase for the flowers and set them up between the candles, and Oscar rearranged the dishes on the table, the pair of them working in sync and anticipating each other’s movements easily. Squarely in the center of the table sat the merlion salt and pepper shakers from Singapore.

By then, it was time to pull his supper out of the oven as Roman portioned takeout onto their plates.

“Perfect,” Roman declared when Oscar sprinkled salt and pepper across their meals with a flourish. “And I’ll get the wine.”

Gazing across the table with its unconventional meal to the utterly beautiful man on the other side, Oscar’s heart swelled with the deep joy that, once upon a time, he hadn’t even dared to hope for himself.

And now the love they’d made was real, and deeper every day, and he would never trade it for anything.

Life was perfect.