Noah can’t believe he and Oliver are in the same car. Only both of them. Going somewhere on Sunday. Not a quite sunny day, but in Noah’s eyes this certain cloudy sky is brighter than any day in a summer afternoon, and the rows of grey skyscrapers lifelessly standing on the side road turn into sophisticated buildings sparkling with thousands of illumination. Basically, Noah’s Sepia vision resolves into bright, vivid scenery.

He’s not under the drug effect, but the feeling of ecstasy and euphoria take over every sense in his body and mind.

While struggling to keep his face normal—not a desperate creep mode, and calming the loud thud of his heartbeat that feels like about to leap into his throat, Noah is desperate to wring his glitching brain to find a catchy line to open the conversation.

Talking about whether only makes him sound lame and lacks creativity.

Noah rarely watches TV, he doesn’t know what show is popular at this time; he doubts Oliver enjoyed watching TV as well since he might cross with Taylor and Jackson’s news.

Mentioning about work may induce stress on the upcoming occasion Oliver prepared, as the deadline gets closer, he also must be burdened with pressure.

Asking for his hobby besides baking only makes Noah appear too curious for someone who pretends doesn’t give a damn about his best friend’s lover.

Noah curses himself; What’s so good for being a charmer to other people yet turnings into a damn stiff coward scarecrow in front of his crush?

“Why do you want to become a perfumer, Noah?” Blessed Oliver and his generous heart for ending Noah’s misery. He breaks the awkward silence when they are waiting for the light traffic to change to green.

Noah peeps at him before he smiles, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel excitedly. “I told you before that my father used to be a taxi driver didn’t I?”

Oliver nods, turning his head and looks at Noah’s side profile fondly.

“He used to take me with him when he had to work at the weekend, so I wouldn’t be alone at home. I would sit beside him while he took the passengers. We worked from morning until night–it was tiring but also interesting,” Noah change the gears before stepping to the pedal as the light goes green “we got a lot of passengers, different people, different occupations, different ages, and distinct smells. I remember the woman with a mini skirt and blouse who wanted to go to her office had a scent like chamomile, citrus and slight pine that somehow smelled like seduction or gentlemen that smell like musky strong spice and rich cedarwood, by the scent he already intimidates someone. From perfume, you can assume someone’s personality, social status, and even their intention. It is just fascinating for me,” Noah shrugs.

“So what’s your first impression about me, judging by my scent?” Oliver challenges him, amusedly grinning from his seat.

Noah glances at him briefly. “Do you mean when we met at the elevator?”

“You scented me back then? Okay, that’s kinda creepy,” Oliver gasps jokingly.

“What? No! I- I was-…” Noah groans, and runs his fingers through his fluffy hair “It was my instinct, okay? it just naturally happened." Brushing his finger on his chin, Noah suddenly transforms into a 'smelling expert'. With squinted eyes and a deep frown, he's acting like hardly recalls the day they met, while the truth is he never forgets about it even in a second. “Anyway, you smell sweet, a bit fruity but also a tingle...very slightly... burnt bread. So my guess you’re thoughtful, attentive but also stubborn and dense makes you slightly bitter sometimes”

“Whaaat was that?~” It gets Oliver to laugh, really laugh, until his shoulder shakes giddily. “I didn't recall burning any bread that day. You just made it up, didn’t you?” he hits Noah's arm lightly.

Noah shrugs and winks mischief at him, “Maybe I just upset you called me ugly back then”

“You should see your smug face at that time you saw your own reflection in the mirror”, Oliver argues defensively and leans to the dashboard from too much laughing after recalling how the first time they met, “You know I didn’t mean that way right?”

Noah smiles back at him, “I know”

Oliver walking in the aisle looking at the sacks of low protein flour, while Noah trots beside him, pushing the cart with a mountain of baking supplies, almost erupted, causing Noah anxious and consider snatching another cart.

Noah insists on being responsible with the cart since he is no help in picking the right ingredients. He is completely blind in baking stuff, so for the sake of the world’s peace, he decides to obediently follow Oliver around. The thing is, no one ever told him that Oliver is annoyingly meticulous and thorough in terms of picking his baking materials.

“Are you really have to read every ingredient in every single packaging? You don’t seriously calculate every nutrient content on it, right?” Noah whines when they almost spent 40 minutes in the flour aisle only. The pastry chef inspects every single brand of flour with his keen eyes while he needs various types of flour. Noah, for his 28 experience in life, with his chemistry degree, has never known there is a lot of different flour that exists in this world.

Oliver looks at him from his shoulder, deadpans. “I actually did. I calculated the protein level. It’ll affect the bread’s texture,” he back focused on the flour packaging.

Noah rolls his eyes, getting impatient. “You run the business for years, right? Just pick the brand you usually use,” he complains.

Not Noah expects their first going out together would be a lovey-dovey date, but he also doesn’t assign to this. It’s not particularly tiring, just boring. Oliver will crouch down or stand for minutes in front of the racks, solemnly thinking, calculating some sort of measurement in his head and scolding Noah if he interrupts. After the painstaking wait, Oliver leaves the aisle without getting anything inside the cart and after a stroll around they will end up going back to the same aisle and Oliver apparently has made his decision.

Noah can see Oliver’s shoulder shaking from behind, chuckling. “This brand is currently on sale, Noah. I never used this one, so I need to make sure it has the same content as my usual brand. You said you want to help me. What happened? Do you regret it?” He teases him with a playful grin.

“Of course not!” Noah retorts in panic. No way he regrets it. He could kill to gain another chance to spend time with Oliver alone. He lets out a defeated sigh, eventually. “Alright, alright, forgive this insolence porter for questioning your decision, my lord. I’ll wait, so please take your time,” he exaggeratedly bows.

Oliver is satisfied, cackling seeing Noah so eager covering his annoyance with his smiley eyes and ear-to-ear smile, politely folding his hands on the front acting like a loyal servant.

“You bored? You want to hear one of Jonah’s jokes?” Oliver finally puts the flour sack he had read for a decade earlier together with the other supplies.

“What is it?” Noah’s interest picked. He’s catching up with Oliver, who pushes the trolley now—his gesture of mercy for Noah’s misery.

“Guess who Jonah’s Hollywood crush is?” Oliver starts choosing the tree nuts on the chiller.

Noah tries to pluck one into his mouth, otherwise, Oliver catches him red-handed and slaps his hand away. “Ryan Gosling?”

“Nope” He shakes his head and scoops the nuts into the plastic bag for being measured

“Chris Evans?” Noah successfully plucked one almond into his mouth when Oliver wasn’t looking.

“Be more creative” Oliver looks at him when Noah already swallows everything.

“Don’t tell me… Gordon Ramsey?”

Oliver shoots him with an incredulous look.

“Who then?”

With an adorable gummy grin, probably the biggest grin and the sweetest one Oliver ever showed to Noah, he answers with a stifled laugh, “Bread Pitt”

“Want to fight me?” Noah doesn’t think when he pokes his pointed finger at Oliver’s ribs, causing him to gasp in surprise but like a soap bubble being poked, and pops. Oliver’s laughter explodes to a surprising degree. He needs to halt to finish the laugh that is springing from the lingering ticklish of Noah’s poke.

Oh god~ Noah hopes he can download this Oliver’s laugh version to his phone and use it for his morning alarm.

As a reminder, he's not a creep, just whipped.