(A/N: As this is my first story/series, feedback/comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading)
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I looked up from my dining table as I heard a loud gasp for air. Aaron sat up, drenched, and held some curls out of his face. He looked at the sheets, realizing they weren't the flower pattern duvet he had at home. He looked down at his clothes - a wrinkled white button-down, gray slacks, and a Tom Ford belt that had definitely left some red lines on his skin overnight.
"Jesus..." he heaved, looking across the room. His eyes landed on me. I waved in response.
"Nightmare?" I asked, the crunch of my cornflakes following the question.
Let me explain: contrary to his belief at the time, Aaron didn't die. Nor was he close to it.
On what was his second date with a guy he had become fond of (on OkCupid of all sites) he had been invited to his date's home. Assuming the night was about to progress, his date had grabbed some cookies from the kitchen and sensually finger-fed them to Aaron.
What his date neglected to tell Aaron was that his sister had asked to use the oven earlier in the day to bake some cookies for a friend after her oven broke down. She had been kind enough to leave some behind for her brother as a thank you. What she had failed to mention was that this was her first attempt at baking with cannabutter.
Aaron's foreplay must've lasted forever since the cookies got to him before his date could get him into his bedroom. On the bright side, his date was home and could probably survive greening out from the comfort of his blankets.
On the downside, the closest Aaron ever got to drugs was his PreP prescriptions. Considering he never drank into blackouts and was fond of being in control of his body, this was the equivalent of forcing someone learning to walk again to run a marathon during their first physical therapy session.
I don't know exactly what happened, mostly 'cause when I showed up his date just told me Aaron couldn't stop freaking out and went to bed, but his skin was pale and his eyes looked straight out of a Toriyama sketch. He was surprisingly easy to guide into my car, perfectly still the entire ride to my place.
The original plan was to take him to his house, but I caved around the ninth time when he said he thought his cat was trying to kill him. I'd commit perjury for that cat (yes, I added purr-jury into the idea bank for when he was back to normal), but I'd be a shitty friend if I let Aaron torture himself further.
I caught Aaron up with our misadventures as I kept on eating. "Then I told you that if you went to bed, I'd DoorDash you ceviche. You fell asleep before I could follow through. Oh, also your mom called 'cause she drove by early and didn't see your car. I asked her to feed your cat."
"I'm very sorry Heath," he spoke, his voice strained with dehydration. He pulled the covers off and got on his feet, straightening out his chewed-up clothes as much as he could. The absence of his tie reminded him that he was still a functioning member of society.
"Crap! I have to run to work!" He looked at his watch, eyes growing when he saw he was late as it was.
In contrast, I was very calmly enjoying my breakfast. "No, you're not."
Aaron's shame turned into irritation. "I'm not fucking around, Heath. I'm working on this account-"
"No, I'm serious. By the time I got to the guy's place, your car was getting towed," I explained, motioning him to come over to the table. I turned my phone in his direction, zooming into a picture of the towing company's information. "See the yellow? Your guy's neighbors are real snitches."
He groaned in frustration, his hands framing his forehead while he took a deep breath. "This is a disaster."
"Do you miss work a lot?"
Aaron took a seat across from me. "No, I never miss. The PTO isn't the problem, I just don't want to make a habit out of it."
I scooped more of my cereal. "You're the most put-together guy I know. You're not gonna die for missing a day, alright?"
The familiarity of the conversation dragged me back in time. How many conversations had I had with Landon at this very table of this nature? Asking him to let loose a little for once in his life.
The deja vu killed my appetite. I put my spoon down. "Look, we just gotta fix what we can. I don't have work 'til the afternoon. We'll drive to the place and see what's up. You think you can afford to get it out today?"
Aaron nodded. I stood up to rummage in the kitchen. "See? Being good at your job paid off. This will be fixed in a few hours, so just try to enjoy the one time you let yourself think during the week."
He looked unsure, much like Landon had every time I asked him to do the same. Those conversations typically went now here or spiraled into worst-case scenarios.
Aaron, however, surprised me. "You're right. Thanks, seriously."
"No prob," I chimed, handing him a bowl and a spoon. "Today's special is either cornflakes or Cocoa Puffs. And no, I'm not cooking."
-
A breakfast and a shower later, Aaron and I drove downtown to get his car back. He refused to be out wearing the same clothes as before and had asked me to lend him some. I was reluctant, considering he was buff enough to stretch them out, but I accepted when I saw how much his little incident left his own soaked in sweat. He had promised to buy me a new set of sheets.
Now, I'm not saying I have a bad fashion sense, but it was more relaxed than Aaron's. Considering he had frame artwork in his house and I had the same faded Kiss poster barely hanging on from yellowed tape from when I was a teenager, our preferences were blatantly in disagreement. He settled for a black pair of joggers and a grey t-shirt, primarily because it was what fit him best. What can I say? Proud size M. We were lucky to share the same shoe size, so he finished his look with a pair of black Chucks I forgot I had.
