His lips pulled into a smile. Matt grabbed both boxes and set them on the bar. Christ, he hadn’t let himself indulge in his favorite cereal for so long. Damn it. He deserved this. He’d just had a breakup. He could eat bad shit for at least one day.
It took some rummaging, but eventually he found a bowl and spoon before grabbing the milk from the fridge.
Not thirty seconds after Matt sat on one of the brown, high-back bar stools and took his first bite, he heard the door open and close. Oliver was home this early? Dates didn’t end this early in New York.
He stopped mid-chew when Oliver stepped into the kitchen, feeling like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Or like he did at that party years ago when he’d gotten shit for the dessert he ate.
But then Oliver smiled. He looked so damn young when he smiled. Always had. He was the golden boy next door that you imagined on an old TV show.
“You found my stash,” Oliver said as he walked into the kitchen.
“Did you try to hide them from me, or do you keep them hidden from everyone because you’re embarrassed about your secret love of marshmallows in cereal?”
Oliver laughed—a rich, joyful laugh that always sounded genuine—before he walked to the cabinet and reached for one of the red bowls. He went for a spoon next and sat beside Matt at the bar and poured himself a bowl; he chose the chocolate. “If I was hiding them from you, I would have done a better job. I knew you’d go looking for them.”
The same way Matt knew he would have them. Only, Matt didn’t eat this as much as he used to. “The chocolate is new.”
“My tastes have become more sophisticated since we were kids,” Oliver teased, and this time they both laughed.
Oliver always had Lucky Charms in his house growing up. It was his favorite and so his parents made sure they always bought it. It sounded silly, but something like that was a treat for Matt as a kid. His dad was disabled and his mom uneducated. His parents had done the best they could, but it hadn’t ever been easy to make ends meet. He and Oliver would sit around and eat a whole box of Lucky Charms in one day at Oliver’s house, which was a luxury he didn’t have anywhere else. It had taken him a while to do that, of course. In the beginning, even when they were hanging out, he hadn’t wanted to eat Oliver’s food at all. It had felt like a handout but of course, Oliver wouldn’t have it. It was their thing—the Lucky Charms. They’d sit around laughing, eating cereal, and playing video games. They were some of the best times Matt could remember.
“Yeah, real sophisticated,” Matt finally commented on what Oliver had said. “Remember when you bought me three cases for my birthday?”
“Oh my God. I was an idiot! Yes, I remember. Miles gave me so much shit for that.”
Matt tried not to groan at the mention of Miles. Even though the group spent so much time together, he often felt like Miles only dealt with Matt because Oliver wanted him around. “Yes, but then we all got high and ate three boxes. Miles didn’t mind then.”
There was another laugh before Oliver said, “No, I guess he didn’t,” followed by, “I haven’t gotten high in years. Not since college.”
Matt took a bite of his cereal, chewed, swallowed and then looked at Oliver. “Parker and I used to get high every once in a while, just for fun. He always said I got the munchies too bad to do it often.” Matt laughed. “I would have gotten too fat.”
He took another bite as Oliver frowned. “What?” Matt asked.
“Not that I’m saying you should be a pothead but getting fat should be the least of your worries and the last reason you don’t allow yourself to do something you enjoy. You’ve never had a problem with your weight. You’re even skinnier than you used to be.”
Matt shrugged, not wanting to get into it with Oliver. Maybe it was vain of him, but sometimes he felt like the way he looked was all he had, and he’d known Parker hadn’t meant anything by it. “Remember when we got stoned, tried to make Rice Krispies treats, and we burned up that pan melting the marshmallows? I thought your mom was going to blow a gasket.”
“What do you mean we burned the pan? That was all on you. You were in charge of melting the marshmallows.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Matt added, and they both burst into a fit of laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time his gut cramped so hard from laughing, especially when he couldn’t even say what was so funny.