cursivememories:
Nate set their plates on the coffee table, shaking his head. “Blaine Michael,” he spoke warmly. “You do realize by saying that I have terrible taste, you’re basically talking shit about yourself.” He plucked the egg roll from Blaine’s hand and dropped it onto his paper plate. Sam and Everett had gifted them actual china one year for Christmas, but they never used it. “I’d rather die–” he licked the grease off his thumb “–than put duck sauce on my egg roll. It needs sodium. Soy sauce and egg rolls are perfect together,” Nate insisted. “Duck sauce is for ducks. End of.“
“I figured your taste in food would have improved to catch up with your amazing taste in life partners.” He shrugged, reaching in the bag for the rest of the food. “Guess I was wrong.”
“It already has sodium. It’s take-out.” He slipped past Nate to grab silverware and glasses for their drinks. They moved around each other with ease, familiar with sharing a space together in a way only a couple who’d been together for years could be. “Duck sauce is the sweet to the egg rolls salty. Like me and you.” He pressed a kiss to the blond’s bearded jaw. “I’m the sweet. Guess what you are.”











