“Oh, let me look for some champagnes really quick,” Noah tells Oliver before they proceed to the cashier

“You want to buy one?” Oliver wonders, watching Noah observing the row of bottles.

“Just want to take a look,” he answers briefly, focusing reading on the bottle label. "Which brand do you think Taylor will like?” Noah peeks between two bottles as he grabs.

Oliver shrugs, leaning on their full load trolley. “I don’t know. I never drink champagne with him”. It's true Oliver even never had a glass of champagne with Taylor. They even never went to dinner together in a proper restaurant. Taylor opposed the idea of being light-headed when painting. After accompanying him working, both of them would eat dinner in Taylor’s apartment/studio and he would cook for him with everything he had on his refrigerator. Taylor always praised his dish for simply matching his taste, but Oliver doesn’t exactly know which dish that actually his boyfriend’s favourite, his preference for a drink and what kind of meal he wished Oliver would cook for him.

The frequency of their meeting is not as intense as a normal couple has since they’re avoiding the suspicion of the public’s eyes. In the time when they finally meet after 2 weeks or more, they have a lot to catch up on, plenty of unsolved problems to discuss and ample intimate gestures to share.

A simple and trivial chat about favourite food never crossed their mind.

Noah regards him in disbelief but he comments nothing.

“Why? He asked you to buy champagne?” Oliver asks, checking his phone briefly.

“His mother asked me to buy champagne for Taylor’s birthday party. I forgot to ask which brand she likes. She is one hell of a picky eater,” Noah snickers, “I’ll just ask her first then. Come on, let's go. I’m hungry,” Noah puts back the champagne on the rack and proceeds to push the cart.

But Oliver does not even budge from where he stands. “She asked you to buy champagnes for her son’s party?” he raises his tone while narrowing his feline eyes, “Why doesn't she buy it herself? Or tell her son to buy the champagne he likes? Are you their family butler or something?” Oliver asks in disbelief. He scoffs and shakes his head as if just hearing something ridiculous.

He knows how annoying Taylor’s family could be, especially his mother, who does not even provide a decent facility for his son to pursue his dream. But to think she was also ill-behaved toward someone who has no blood relation with her - a stranger, dumbfounded him. Oliver has noticed it before, starting from how Noah handled the catering for her son’s exhibition. Although, at first he assumes it’s just Taylor who asked a favour from his best friend. However, asking Noah to also handle the birthday party is too much.

He’s not jobless, he has a whole company to rule. And Taylor’s family, with the wealth they possessed, hiring a professional party planner should be a piece of cake.

Oliver hopes his suspicion is wrong, but the way he sees it, it seems like his family tried to keep reminding him of his place - that Noah would forever be in debt to them.

Noah already walks ahead since Oliver just stands still in his place. Oliver didn’t say anything to him, but Noah apparently can read his mind since Oliver’s concern is basically written all over his face. “Olly, it’s not a big deal. It's just a favour, a simple favour. And I undertook it. Like when your friend invites you to their house, you will bring wine or champagne, right?”

“No, it’s different! If I bring a drink to my friend’s house because I’m willing to do it on my own, not because someone is ordering me around. Besides, why did you agree? Don't you have a company to rule?” He argues. Voicing his suspicion would only hurt Noah. With his positivity and carefree attitude, Oliver doubts Noah ever had negative thoughts toward Taylor and his family. Oliver thinks if he has no heart to completely blunt and dim the light from such a bright person, he might give Noah a piece of his mind or maybe scold him a little as the perk for being 2 years older than him.

Noah doesn’t understand why Oliver is so worked up about something as frivolous as champagne, it’s not even that deep but the way Oliver’s lips jut sharply and his perfect-shaped brows knitted together, he knows the pastry chef is holding himself from exploding. While the fact this is Noah’s first time seeing him so angry, he has to say Oliver doesn’t have a knack to look scary, whatever expression he pulls, he is just naturally adorable. “ It’s nothing rather than what they did-“

“Stop that,” Oliver chides, still refusing to walk

“What?” Noah looks at him with a puppy stare, genuinely confused by Oliver’s sudden tantrum.

“Assuming everything that you have now is owing to someone else. I know they paid your tuition. You are thankful, I get it. But you can’t just discredit your own hard work. Can’t you–I don’t know… just boast about yourself like those other rich, famous people. Being pompous once in a while is fine. Rather than saying thanks to other people for your success, you can say ‘thanks to my brilliant brain’, ‘thanks to my bright personality’, ‘thanks to my pretty face’ Give yourself more credit!” The frustration makes Oliver fire bullets from his mouth faster than his brain processing.

Admittedly refreshing to find a guy being so down to earth despite his success but on the other side, Oliver just can’t stand seeing this guy who’s being too nice for his own good, being taken advantage of and trampled by the liking of arrogant people who think their money can excuse their bad manners.

Noah’s eyes widen, he grabs his cheek to check the heat, attempting to cold off the burning blush or else Oliver would realise he is as whipped as cream, “Why do you always like that?” he almost whispers, doesn’t trust his own voice would sound like a teenager in their puberty talking to their crush.

“What? what? like what?” Oliver is still nagging at him.

“Saying something like that so easily. Do you even know what you are saying?” Noah whines in protest. Does Oliver realise the impact of the praise he uttered so carelessly at him? He may not remember what he’s saying tomorrow, but Noah would play those praises in a loop within his head until he’s going insane.

“Because I’m tired of hearing that! I can’t stand it anymore. What kind of bullshit is that? If I were you and someone said my success was because of someone else, I would be furious.” Oliver stomps his feet like a kid asking his mother to buy them toys at the supermarket. The fact is, Oliver is infuriated. Noah’s suppressed smile makes it seem like he doesn't take his words seriously.

Noah bites his lower lip to resist his grin. He really wants to hug him and kiss that pout away. How can someone be so charismatic but cute at the same time? Noah walks closer to the person who gives him such mature insight yet sulks in a childish way. Tugging on Oliver’s coat sleeves gently, Noah attempts to make him move. “Okay Mr. grumpy, I won’t do it again. Now quit nagging and let’s get home”

“Wait,” Oliver still doesn’t budge. “Rather than concerning what someone else likes, why don’t you just pick something you like here? What about your favourite drink? My treat.” Oliver approaches the liquor rack.

Noah’s eyes widen with lips agape in disbelief. “wait! Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I'm joking? You like red wine, right? I remember you asked Evie if there’s wine on the menu” Oliver is too busy searching in the wine racks and Noah answers him with an approval hum.

“My knowledge in wine is like a toddler in the alphabet. I only know two or three brands so far. Do you have a suggestion?” Noah skims the row of red wine, he’s not sure what makes one different from the other besides the different name brands.

Oliver grabs one, “This is my favourite, let’s see if we have the same preference”. When he puts it on the cart he notices Noah still staring at him with wide eyes, beaming a lesser of cheesy admiration and deeply touched as if Oliver just gifted him with a life-changing present. “What? Don’t tell me no one ever gave you a good wine before,” Oliver guesses.

Noah doesn’t answer, he just gives Oliver a coy smile while shrugging. Covered his blush by pushing the cart and walking ahead.