I just think there've got to be some rules you're breaking here for spoiling me. Like--something. Anything. ( scott's an open book--happy in his tone, happy in the way laughter lurks in the backdrop of everything he says. happy when he leans over to kiss the corner of matt's mouth in gratitude, even if it's chaste and he has no time to linger because the light's gone and changed. ) A "you aren't allowed to be so nice to me" rule, you know?

( it's only a few minutes to his apartment now, of which he's grateful. matt's become exponentially endearing in seconds, which has to be some superhuman feat. maybe the chemicals did more than enhance his senses. )

I don't know what it says about me that the idea of you getting me a dog makes me happier than the actual dog itself.