“Did you hear what I said?” Mason looked up at his apartment door, then back at Rhys. Maybe offering his couch wasn’t such a great idea after all? Rhys hadn’t even answered.

“Sorry, no.” Rhys looked up at him, distraught. Mason wanted to put his hands on his shoulders again, try and soothe him. He resisted the urge. It felt wrong somehow to touch Rhys when he was feeling so vulnerable.

“I asked, why don’t you just crash on my couch for the next week?” Mason held his breath as Rhys’s eyes widened. In happiness or shock? Mason couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry, what?” Rhys looked him up and down. Mason wasn’t sure which way Rhys was leaning. But Mason knew this was one of those times in life to either go big or go home.

“Yeah, it’s my parents’ old couch. Big and comfy. You won’t have to pay for a motel, and if you need anything, I’ll probably just be downstairs here.” Mason had been thinking it through the whole time while on hold with the customer service rep.

“Oh, no, I…” Rhys got up from the couch. Mason deflated. Maybe he had read too much into their chats, but it seemed like they were getting along really well. “I couldn’t impose on you like that! You’ve already rescued me from the side of the road, letting me pay when I can. I couldn’t take advantage.”

“It’s not. I’m offering.” Mason could see his point of view. Even though it was no trouble for Mason, he had helped the poor guy out. There had to be a way to make Rhys feel like this was a fairer partnership. “Look, Socket should probably have some company the first week or so, right? You hanging around, getting her used to people, that would be a big help.”

Mason knew it was a weak excuse, but he could see the cogs turning in Rhys’s head.

“My couch is gonna sit up there for the next eleven days anyway. Only difference is you’ll be on it eight hours of the night.” His parents had deliberately left the couch in storage for Mason. Told him it would be great for guests at his own place.

“I dunno.” Rhys began pacing the floor, nervously glancing at his phone. “What about when your friends come over or your girlfriend?”

“All my friends meet up at the gym, and I’ve been too busy here to work on any relationships.” Mason couldn’t be sure, but he could have sworn Rhys was suppressing a grin at that moment.

Maybe Rhys was thinking about the money he could save. Mason knew motels at Christmas must be expensive.

“Okay, this is my Christmas present.” Mason decided out loud. Rhys stopped in his tracks, looking up at the mechanic. “I know we just met, but — this is my gift to you. You have eleven days to get me a gift for Christmas. Besides your company.”

Mason had no idea why he added that last part. Probably to make it clear that Rhys wouldn’t be an imposition. That Mason would enjoy spending time with Rhys, which was one hundred percent true.

“I… why are you being so nice to me?” Rhys had slight tears developing in his eyes. Why would anyone be mean to you? Mason kept the thought to himself. He didn’t know Rhys’s history.

“Why not?” Mason replied. “Besides, it’s Christmas. Good will to all men, that’s part of the deal, right?”

Rhys chuckled, wiping the tiny tears from his eyes.

“Are you sure? Because I could try to get a motel room,” Rhys said.

“You could. But you’d rather stay here, right?” Mason hoped that was the case and felt the warm feeling grow as Rhys nodded.

“Okay, yeah.” Rhys nodded. Mason couldn’t help but slap his hands together in joy.

“Fantastic! This is gonna work out great. I can feel it!”

“I just need to call my parents and… oh god.” Rhys ran his hands through his thick black hair. “I need to call my parents.”

Mason chuckled, heading toward the stairs to his apartment.

“I’ll give you the tour, then some privacy.”

After helping Tristan finish off the tire change, Mason had done the last bits of administrative work. Namely, transferring money from his savings account into his personal and business account. He would have to dig about to see why he’d ended up with almost no money in his personal account.

He still had a fair chunk of change saved up from the Marines, but a lot of that was going toward business costs. Hopefully Christmas and then springtime would help pick up his business.

Around six o’clock, he headed up into his apartment to find Rhys lying on his couch (now Rhys’s bed), looking through his phone. Socket sat on the kitchen counter, staring at Rhys like he was an alien from another world.

“How did the call with your parents go?” Mason asked as he closed the door to the garage behind him. There was something so satisfying about being able to close the door at the end of the day, literally leaving his business behind.

“Yeah, we got there in the end.” Rhys sat up, looking up at Mason. “Took me ten minutes convincing them not to drive down here straight away. Mom spent most of the call looking up flights, even though they’re all super expensive.”

“Yeah, Christmas sometimes bleeds you dry, doesn’t it?”

Mason looked over his apartment. It was a large space, stretching over around one-third of the garage below.

He had a bathroom off his own bedroom, the large living area with the kitchen unit, and then a second bathroom with its own shower unit.

Finally, the utility closet which fit in a washer and dryer, with enough room for three shelving units. And the door up to the roof, of course.

“I’m gonna grab a shower. Then we could get takeout tonight?” Mason asked, wondering what was best for Rhys. “Or if you’ve already eaten, that’s cool. Or if you wanted time alone, I could hang out in my room. I know you’ve spent most of the day with me. I can leave you to your own devices.”

“Oh no, you’re great.” Mason beamed at the compliment from Rhys, noticing him blush. “I mean it, rescuing me from the freeway, letting me crash here. I can cook dinner for us tonight.”

Rhys jumped up from the couch, walking around the kitchen island unit to look inside the fridge.

“Do you have any mushrooms, pulled pork?” Rhys rummaged around the fridge, pulling out several ingredients.

“Sorry, man, I don’t. But JJ’s groceries is only a two-minute drive.” Mason looked at all the ingredients Rhys was pulling out, enough for a feast.

“Okay, here’s the idea,” Rhys said. “You shower, get all the engine grease off of you. And I’ll pop to the store and cook us dinner, my first of many thank-yous. You like mac and cheese?” Rhys surveyed the ingredients, checking what he needed.

“Yeah, it’s practically Texas’s official side dish,” Mason said.

“Well, get ready for the best main course of mac and cheese in your life,” Rhys said with a smile. “Oh, you like mushrooms, yeah? My sister Robin can’t stand the texture, but they add to the flavor. I can cut them big so you can pick them out.”

“Mushrooms are great.” Mason loved using them as his natural iron boost after a workout.

“You okay with cooked tomatoes? Onion? I don’t get to cook this often. All five of my siblings have different diets and tastes.”

“You have five siblings?” Mason couldn’t help but gape in horror. He had a younger brother, and the sibling rivalry when they were growing up could get intense. He couldn’t imagine another four on top of him.

“Oh yeah, I’m the youngest. I’m used to it. So onions, tomatoes, all good?” Rhys asked as he sat back down on the couch, putting on one of his sneakers.

“Yeah, I’ll eat almost anything you put in front of me,” Mason said as Rhys slipped his other gray sneaker on. Mason noticed that the laces were in a rainbow pattern.

He had entirely forgotten that Rhys was gay. He guessed there was no reason to remember, it didn’t affect their living arrangement. But what if Rhys had a crush on him? Did he have the same taste as his mom? Was that one of the reasons why he’d been apprehensive to crash on his couch?

Rhys didn’t seem to mind now, barreling to the door.

“Oh, hold up,” Mason said. Rhys skidded to a halt as he checked one of his kitchen drawers, pulling out his spare set of keys. He tossed them to Rhys. The smaller man flinched, the keys slamming into his flailing arms before hitting the floor.

“Shit, you all right?” Mason asked as Rhys gingerly lifted the keys from the floor. He’d assumed Rhys would catch them on instinct.

“Are you sure?” Rhys looked from the keys up to Mason. Socket darted between looking at the two of them like a tennis match.

“Yeah, sorry for throwing them at you,” Mason grimaced. Rhys shook his head.

“My fault, no problem,” Rhys said. “Be back in twenty.” Rhys slid out the door, heading down the stairs.

Socket leapt from the kitchen island, prowling to the entrance. She then looked up, meowing at the door. Mason got the impression Socket thought that if she meowed hard enough, Rhys would reappear.

Without him, his apartment already felt that bit more lonely.

When Mason came back into the living room half an hour later in fresh clothes, onions and garlic were already sautéing in a big frying pan. Rhys was dicing a big beefsteak tomato into large chunks, throwing them into the sizzling pan.

“Hey, this should be ready in around twenty minutes,” Rhys said as he stirred the pan, the tomatoes cooking in their own juices. Rhys began to chop up the mushrooms as Mason pulled out his phone.

“Did you want me to put on some music?” Mason thought Rhys looked like the kind of guy who enjoyed cooking to some tunes. Rhys glanced up from his mushrooms, grinning at Mason.

“How thoughtful to ask! Yeah, I’m guessing a mechanic has a great driving playlist.” Rhys stirred the pan, the tomatoes wilting before throwing in the mushrooms. The new vegetables added their own juices to the mix.

He selected his driving playlist ‘Pedal to the Metal’ and plugged his phone into the speakers by the couch. The sounds of Queen gently filled his apartment. Socket looked up from her soft basket in confusion. The cat settled back down as Rhys chuckled to himself.

“What?” Mason came over to the kitchen island, leaning on the marble to look over at Rhys.

“Of course it’s Queen. Best music to drive to, hands down.” Rhys stirred the pan once again before turning back to the island and opening a big block of cheese.

“You’re goddamn right it is. Want me to grate that?” Mason offered, looking at the cheese.

“No, no, no.” Rhys began to grate the cheese into a bowl. Mason was impressed. He always bought his cheese sauce premade. “I’m looking after you tonight.”

Mason sat on one of the stools by the counter, trying to remember the last time someone had cooked for him like this. Sure, he was fed meals in the mess hall during his time in the Marines, but a meal just for him? Probably not since he lived at home with his parents.

The warm feeling in his chest grew, stoked by Rhys and his culinary skills.

Rhys threw the cheese in with the milk to make the beginnings of his cheese sauce before opening a pack of precooked BBQ pulled pork and throwing that in with the onions, tomatoes, and mushrooms.

“How many ingredients does this mac and cheese have?” Mason asked, jumping up from his seat, heading for the fridge. Rhys chuckle as he stirred the pot and the pan at the same time.

“It’s technically a casserole with this many. But just some pasta, salt, and pepper now, no more surprises.”

“I was gonna grab a beer. Did you want one? Or we have OJ, some Dr Pepper…” Mason looked through his fridge, noticing he had more beer and half-empty ketchup bottles than actual food.

“After today, a beer would be great!”

Mason pulled out two at Rhys’s request, twisting off the top and handing it over. “There you go.” Mason clinked his bottle with Rhys before taking a big gulp.

“The first half,” Rhys affirmed as he stirred his ingredients, the smell of barbecue sauce filling Mason’s apartment.

“I don’t follow,” Mason said.

“I need a beer after the first half of my day. The second half — all this…” Rhys indicated the apartment and took a big gulp of his beer. “That’s been great.”

They spent the rest of the cooking time talking about Queen. Rhys used to listen to them in the red Impala downstairs, driving around with his Grandpa Louie. Mason discovered them in high school and told Rhys all about the embarrassing summer he tried to grow a Freddie Mercury mustache.

Rhys spent the whole dinner telling Mason all about his late grandpa. He sounded like a great man, passionate and caring. Rhys had developed his mac and cheese recipe with him over the years, BBQ pulled pork being the latest addition. It was quite possibly the best mac and cheese Mason had had in his entire life. Cooked in its own juice, the flavors complimented each other perfectly.

That night Mason went to bed with a belly full of scrumptious food, a friend on the couch, and Socket purring in her soft basket in the living room. The day had thrown surprise after surprise at him, and he wondered what tomorrow with Rhys would bring.