William and Oliver make the pasta together, following Oliver's grandma's recipe on how to make the perfect spaghetti bolognese. And despite William's protests of making it his own way by cooking the pasta in the sauce, he ends up liking Oliver's version much better than he thought it would. And let's face it, with his cooking skills, there was no way his food was going to taste better, and he knows it.

"Should we leave some for Jason?" William asks with his mouth full as he glances at the redhead who lies sound asleep on his couch. He looks up at Oliver, waiting for a response but doesn't get it immediately. Oliver instead puts his own bowl down on the kitchen counter where they're both standing and takes a napkin. He folds it, and to William's horror, the man cups his chin with his hand and tilts his face up. William watches as Oliver slowly leans in, looking into his eyes for a minute as the shorter man gulps and then wipes the corner of William's mouth with the napkin.

What just happened? William asks himself when Oliver picks up his bowl as if he did not just do that.

"Yeah, he's gonna be hungry when he wakes up," Oliver then says, answering William's question.

Though he is slightly confused, and frankly a little bit turned on by Oliver's action, William nods and puts down his bowl. He helps Oliver plate up a serving for Jason, which they then cover with a piece of tinfoil that William has lying around for some reason. Once they're done, William puts it in the microwave for when Jason wakes up. After, he finishes up his own food and then goes with Oliver to his living room.

With Jason sleeping on William's only couch, there's nowhere to sit. William glances at the sleeping man, and then at Oliver. He's not entirely sure what to do at the moment. He's not sleepy yet, and it's still raining outside so there's no way he can ask them to leave, not even if he wanted to. Jason is still sleeping and William isn't really that kind of person. Besides, all he's really wanted for a while now has been to spend time with Oliver and he finally has the opportunity. There's no way he's going to throw it out the window. It seems there's only one thing left to do and that is to entertain Oliver, or at least keep him company until Jason awakens.

So William shrugs and takes a seat on the floor. He looks up at Oliver with a slight smile, inviting him to do the same without a word and the tall man humors him, also sitting down. William opens up his laptop which is conveniently on the little coffee table next to the couch, and sets up his mini projector. Knowing that Oliver loves romcoms just as much as he does, William doesn't hesitate to put one on.

Weirdly enough, he doesn't ask if Oliver wants to watch this one as he usually would with a guest. Because they seem to have similar interest, William just assumes that he does. And it bodes well for him when Oliver remains quiet, silently watching as William does his thing. Well, how can he look elsewhere when all he can focus on is William? He's so focused on William that he doesn't even notice that William chose a gay romance and only realizes it once the movie starts playing.

"Wait... you're into this, right?" William questions, as if suddenly realizing that Oliver may be straight and not into the same type of movies as he is.

Oliver nods. "Yeah, I don't mind," he says, shrugging.

His answer isn't what William expects and it leaves him slightly confused, because what exactly is Oliver's deal? Since meeting the guy, Oliver has given no indication of what his sexuality is and it makes William wonder. Is he gay, bi, straight? Somewhere in between? He has no idea but Oliver's actions sure do put him on a scale that allows William to put the guilt he feels in regard to his attraction on the back burner. No, seriously, what straight man tells his friend that he looks good in their hoodie? Or wipes away sauce on their lips while looking into said friend's eyes?

"This movie sucks ass," Oliver says when they're well past thirty minutes into the 90-minute movie.

"No, it doesn't," William counters, sounding almost appalled at Oliver's lack of taste. He turns to the man with a raised brow. "What do you mean it sucks?"

Oliver rolls his eyes and smirks. "For one, the main character is a bit too whiny for my taste. Plus, his thoughts are all over the place. Can he like one guy and stick to it?"

William chuckles at Oliver's statement. He agrees, in a way, except that it's the thing that Oliver hates about the main character which William absolutely loves. "It's okay to not have shit figured out," he states, earning an eye roll from Oliver. "Come on, you can't expect everyone to know what they want at that age?"

Oliver smirks a little. He can tell that William somehow relates to the main character, and for a slight moment, he does too. But admittedly, it is the one thing he hates about himself. His indecisiveness. His indecisiveness to determine whether or not he wants to keep looking at William's pale thighs that his own hoodie can barely cover.

The blond man watches how his hoodie, which he sordidly accused William of stealing, reaches past the smaller man's waist but can barely cover his milky thighs. He notices how William squirms slightly, fidgeting with the sleeves of the hoodie with his dainty soft hands that keep getting covered by the sleeves. All Oliver can think about is taking those hands and placing little kisses on them.

Shit. He blinks. This wasn't supposed to happen.

It seems they both have the same problem when William's eyes also can only look at Oliver's manly thighs. The t-shirt he gave the tall man leaves nothing to the imagination as it is so tight that Oliver's muscles seem to want to burst out of the fabric. His boxers are tight and short, thus leaving his long and not-too-hairy legs out for all to see. And William is fucking grateful for that because damn, he would do anything to run his hands along those legs, to feel that gorgeous muscled tan skin pulsating beneath his palm.

As the movie plays, Oliver lifts his arm and throws it on the edge of the couch, just over William's shoulder. This causes the brown-haired man to move closer to him unintentionally, nearly resting his head on the green-eyed man's shoulder. And since it's still raining outside, lightning strikes, followed by the loud boom of thunder, startling William so much that he jumps and his hand flies over to Oliver's thigh, so scarily close to the man's cock.

He's hot, extremely. He's not sure which of them shivered, but the chills that run through him told him that this is getting dangerous. William's hand remains, squeezing the man's thigh slightly, not because he wants to but to steady himself. He feels the slight shiver coming off Oliver and is unsure of what to do. He wants to take his hand away, apologize and let bygones be bygones but fuck him if this isn't the hottest he has felt in weeks. He begins to lift his hand but a larger, firmer hand covers his own.

"Stay," Oliver breathes, his eyes closing on their own accord as he moves William's hand toward the area he had long since hoped they'd touch.