Elliot ditched his jock reputation after high school. He happily traded his cleats and shoulder pads for college cafeteria food and seminars notes. Now, without the distraction of football, he has managed to find success at the University of Minneso...
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Bzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzt.
From the non-stop vibrations of Elliot's phone, it was apparent they had reentered civilization, or rather, they had emerged from the cornfields and reached the domain of the nearest cell tower.
Elliot made his phone screen go dark, opting to ignore the endless notifications blipping onto his feed. He hadn't checked any media all week. There was a sense of dread in the back of his mind as he thought of all the things he must've missed, but he blocked out the anxiety.
Pierce was outside of the car, gasoline pump in hand. His teeth were chattering from the cold weather as he readjusted his hideous orange hat.
Find orange hat. Destroy orange hat. Elliot made a mental note.
Flurries danced in the streetlight overhead, casting a grainy view of the gas station around them. Pierce squinted as he climbed back into the driver's seat.
Although winter was still raging on, Christmas break was over and they'd be back on campus in less than twenty minutes. It was too soon. Elliot didn't want to go back to sleeping alone.
"Christ," Pierce cursed. "My fingers are the color of your hair." For a hockey jock he was very dramatic.
Elliot leaned over the seat console and pressed Pierce's hands to his cheeks. He sighed at the contact and gave Elliot a quick kiss before restarting the car engine.
Elliot reached his arm out and twined his fingers into the hair on Pierce's nape. Soft, doting, and aimless with his actions. Pierce let his head fall back as his boyfriend squeezed the base of his neck and ran his touch toward his ear, playful with the pulling of his lobe. Pierce turned his face to nip Elliot's thumb, but quickly loosened his bite and placed a single kiss on his palm.
"Can we stop for coffee?" Elliot asked.
"Are you trying to waste time?"
"Maybe."
Pierce put the gear in drive and then rested his hand on Elliot's knee. The gas station was empty when he exited the lot, careful not to let the wheels slide on the accumulating snow.
"Did you have fun?" Pierce questioned.
Elliot nodded, thinking distantly. "Why didn't you tell me about your brother and Mo?"
Pierce exhaled, low and long. "Because I thought he had cheated. I didn't know how to process that. And we were going through our own shit. I didn't want to make things more complicated."
"You could've told me." Gentle, genuine.
"Yeah, but..." Pierce swallowed. He was struggling. "Seeing him kiss Mo," he edged. "Made me feel - I guess it made me feel like...I don't know. Like..."
"Better?" Elliot guessed. Thinking his brother had cheated made Pierce feel better, like there was a gene to blame for his own faults. Painting his brother as a cheater would've made his own mistake seem less villainous. A small part of him hoped Elliot would've seen the situation in the same way.
Pierce glimpsed at a street sign, too ashamed to look at Elliot. He cleared his throat. "Do you want Starbucks or Dunkin'?"
