Another from Tumblr! And this time the title's from Elton John. Also because I can.
"Going out's out, right?" Will asks, his fingers carding lazily through Mac's hair.
"If going out means I have to put on real pants, then yes, going out is out," Mac replies. Her head is on his lap, her glasses perched on her nose, and a well-loved and much abused copy of Persuasion balanced on her knees. "Do we have anything we could make in the fridge?"
"We?" Will questions.
"You," Mac clarifies.
"No," he answers.
"I guess we have to order in then," Mac says, sitting up and placing her book on the coffee table. She pauses, pursing her lips and looking thoughtful. "Should we feel badly about ourselves that we're newly engaged and sitting in on a Saturday night?"
"Absolutely not," Will's answer is automatic and he tugs her close and she rests her head against his shoulder. This was what he had missed. They had spent their afternoon watching football games, Will trying to patiently explain how downs work and the purpose of a cornerback to Mac, and he couldn't adequately put into words how much he had missed these lazy afternoons and quiet evenings, just the two of had slid back into his apartment and his life seamlessly, and if he squinted just right, it was almost as if she had never left.
Will's quick answer seems to appease Mac and he drops a kiss into her hair.
"Chinese?" She suggests and he shakes his head.
"We just had it."
"Vietnamese?" He makes a face. "Indian?"
"How about pizza?" He counters, and it's her turn to make a face. "We could order you a salad on the side."
"We really need to go grocery shopping from time to time so that we can make dinner more often," Mac sighs. "Maybe introduce vegetables into your diet."
"We?" Will queries.
"You," she concedes. "How about Caribbean? There's that little place down the street that has those amazing fish tacos."
"We can put it on the short list," he says. "How about that Italian place two blocks over? You like their eggplant parmesan."
"We're meeting Sloan and Don for Italian tomorrow for dinner," Mac points out, slightly distracted by Will pressing a kiss onto her jaw line.
"Mmm," is his reply.
"I'm hungry,"' she whines. "Stay focused."
"I'm very focused," he argues.
"Focus on my stomach," she instructs, and he grins and dips his head down to where her t-shirt is riding up slightly. "Will!"
"I was just following orders," he smirks. "Order from that place with the fish tacos. And do it quickly." Mac gives him a kiss and climbs to her feet, wandering with her phone over to the kitchen to dig out the menu from the drawer.
When she hangs up the phone, she comes bounding back into the living room, dropping herself down into his lap and winding her arms around his neck.
"We have thirty minutes," she announces.
"Oh," he grins. "I can work with that."
