Paul and Jeremy had made Saturday mornings their sacred ritual. The sun filtered through soft pink curtains, pooling light across their living room\u2019s cheerful chaos\u2014oil paintings leaned against walls, a tall rubber plant guarded the corner, and mismatched cushions lay scattered on the floor like happy confetti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jeremy sat cross-legged on a plush blue rug, tracing the delicate steam spirals rising from his latte. His dark hair cast cool shadows across his forehead as he watched Paul ease himself into the vintage mustard armchair, worn arms creaking in welcome. Paul\u2019s broad shoulders filled the chair\u2019s backrest; his favorite faded tank top clung to muscles shaped by weekend climbing trips. He tucked one foot under the other knee and offered Jeremy half of a cinnamon bun, icing melting between his fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLast one from Mario\u2019s,\u201d Paul said, voice low with amusement. Jeremy took it, eyes dancing. \u201cWorth every messy bite.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n