Nothing Special (Nothing Special 1)

“So how about a movie tonight?” God asked.

Day’s smile was bright with his response. “Yeah, babe, that sounds good.”

God wanted to take that beautiful smile and hide it somewhere where no one could ever take it away. Day loved him and God didn’t know why he’d never paid attention to it. Probably the same reason he didn’t realize he’d been falling for his best friend for so long. It’s like they say. Sometimes it takes almost losing someone to realize how much you’d miss them if they were gone.

“Go upstairs and wash up, you smell like the outdoors. Dinner will be ready in five,” Day said while pulling out fixings for a salad.

“Sure thing, dear.” God chuckled hoarsely. He was just out the door when he peeked his head around the corner. “I love your apron, wifey.” God laughed and ducked quickly to avoid the carrot flying at his head.

“What woman do you know that wears a NASCAR apron?” Day argued to God’s retreating back. “Plenty of men wear aprons, thank you very much. It’s all about keeping your clothes clean. It’s practical!” Day yelled even though God was upstairs.

God was still smiling when he went into the guest room for his suitcase. He looked in the closet and under the perfectly made bed. He even pulled out the drawers of the armoire on the far side of the room, but couldn’t find it. He was about to go back downstairs and ask Day when he turned down the long hall and walked into Day’s master bedroom. His suitcase was tucked neatly in the corner. He pulled it out but it felt empty. He looked in the first dresser; it held Day’s clothes. A second, identical dresser was on the other side and God did a double take at his few toiletries that were neatly aligned on top. God rubbed his hand on the smooth surface and felt his heart clench at how domestic this looked.

His and his dressers… really.

God yanked off his T-shirt and threw it in the hamper along with Day’s items. He washed up quickly and went back to his dresser to put on a clean shirt. His mouth dropped when he pulled out the dresser drawer. His shirts were neatly folded and placed in an organized arrangement. God went through all five drawers. His underwear, socks, shirts, and sweats: each arranged neatly and in its own place.

He dropped down on the bed and thought for a minute. At first he was joking, but Day really was domesticating him. Was God ready for that? Sure he loved Day, he’d take a bullet for him, but was he ready to play house? He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger at the tension forming behind his eyes. God had been completely on his own since he was eighteen. He’d never shared space with anyone—hell, no one had ever wanted to.

Fuck. Just last night Day was getting ready to fuck mini Justin Bieber, now he was cooking and cleaning for God and doing his damn laundry. He tried to shake off his anxiety. He never used the word love lightly. He meant what he’d said last night. God had only loved three people his entire life and for the past four years only one of them returned that love. Should he really tuck tail and run just because this was new territory? Hell no. All he did was unpack my suitcase. No big deal. He was just being hospitable. Damn sure is better than that seedy hotel. “My boyfriend’s just trying to make me comfortable.” He smirked and tried the term on his tongue again. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Get your ass down here and stop overthinking shit! Dinner is getting cold!” Day yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

Why did he always forget how well his partner knew him? God threw on his clean T-shirt, pushed the drawer shut, and jogged down the stairs. Day was standing there looking embarrassed. A bright red flush was creeping up his neck and settling in his cheeks. God stepped down to the last step and tilted Day’s chin up so he could look into beautiful hazel bedroom eyes.

Day shrugged. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable in my room. I have a better mattress than what’s in the guest room, it’s one of those memory foam ones… ya know… better on the back. Also the other room only has one dresser which I guess wouldn’t be a problem because you don’t have a ton of stuff but I have the better shower with the ultra-pressure showerhead, and my TV’s better too, I even have the Hustler’s porn channel. I’m not saying I watch it but if you want to, then—”

God put a thick finger over Day’s motor mouth, silencing his nervous babbling. He rubbed his finger back and forth over Day’s plump bottom lip. He leaned in and whispered, “Thank you,” before he kissed his boyfriend with as much love as he could put into a kiss. When he finally released Day’s mouth, he let his lips linger there and spoke against Day’s panting breath.