Lazy Valentines (Lazy Days)
done?
"Scott? You okay? You're kind of blocking the doorway, babe. Do you need me to grab your Ativan from your pocket? Scott?"
Devon's words surfaced slowly into Scott's reeling subconscious. Devon … motorcycle … Valentine's Day … diner… friends . Oh shit. "Sorry. Yeah, I mean no. I don't need it. Just a blip in my head from all the vibrating I guess." He tried to laugh it off but Devon's eyes told him he was wasting his time.
"If you need to go home, we can do that. Or I can call a cab instead of taking the bike." Devon loosely wrapped his fingers around Scott's wrist, his thumb lightly pressing over the pulse point that Scott knew he was not-so-sneaklly trying to feel.
"I'm fine, Dev."
"You're paler than a goddamn ghost and it was like you weren't even hearing me. We can walk right back out…. Just say the word. Honesty, remember?"
Scott exhaled a calming breath then worried at his bottom lip. "No. I'm good. Just some family stuff stuck in my head—my mother as usual. I promise we'll talk about it when we have a little more privacy, okay?" He leaned up and kissed Devon's scruffy cheek, letting his scent wash over him, adding to his calm.
He hated the worried look in Devon's warm copper eyes, that set of his jaw that meant his usually laid-back boyfriend was ready to package Scott up and squirrel him away somewhere quiet. He refused to let his mother's venomous attitude ruin his first real Valentine's date. "So, are we going meet your friends and eat or are you going to let me starve and fade to nothing on my first Valentine's Day?"
Devon eyed him cautiously. Scott could see just a whisper of a smile returning to his eyes, then when Scott lightly swept his hand over Devon's hip, his face finally brightened. "Only if you're sure."
With a sturdy nod of his head, Scott turned from Devon and for the first time actually saw the room they'd stepped into. He supposed it wasn't as bad as he'd thought; the inside of the diner appearing clean and organized despite its outward appearance. If anyone knew anything about outsides not matching insides, it was Scott. And Devon was a prime example that things weren't always as they seemed.
He swiveled his head to inspect the rest of the room and a table in the corner immediately attracted his attention. "Dev, is that one of the guys from your—" He didn't finish his sentence since the guy in question had pushed back his chair and was making a quick beeline towards them, a dopey grin plastered on his face. Oh, those friends.
"Hey, Dev. Good to see ya, man." The larger man clenched Devon's hand before pulling him into a chest-bumping hug or whatever men called that alpha male form of bonding that reminded Scott of two gorillas beating each other against their chests. With a hard slap to Devon's back, the man stepped away, eyes appraising Scott from head to toe and back again. "And you must be Scott. Nice to finally meet you." He stuck out his hand and Scott involuntarily flinched back.
Devon's fingers settled on his lower back, pressing firmly but tenderly to hold him in place. "Scott, this is Wolfie. He's the bass player for Smoky Grey. Wolfie, Scott Weston."
The large hand reached out again and with a glance at Devon's reassuring face, Scott accepted it between his own.
"You can call me Will or Wolfie, whatever you want. I'm easy."
"You got that right," Devon added with a chuckle.
Wolfie had a nice smile and the curliest, yet longest hair Scott had ever seen on a man. It wasn't afro-curly but rather like someone had taken a curling iron and formed big relaxing ringlets all over his head. Surprisingly, Scott quite liked it. "Nice to meet you. It seems I'm at a disadvantage since you knew I existed long before I accidently found out about you."
It was meant as a subtle tease towards Devon but the loss of warmth at Scott's back hadn't been the reaction he was going for. "I'm sorry—" he began.
"Well, that's our Dev," Wolfie interrupted. "Never did like to share his toys. Always keeping us away so we didn't embarrass him."
Devon's smile returned as he shoved Wolfie's shoulder. "You're such a dick."
"Takes one to know one."
"Fuck you, dog-boy."
"Bastard—"
"Are you losers acting like children again?"
The female voice surprised Scott and he turned too quickly, his feet stumbling over each other in his haste. Luckily it was Devon's arms that he tipped into or it would have been even more embarrassing than it was. Warmth flushed his ears, spreading to
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