Chapter 2: Cinnamon
Will was sitting on the couch in Horton Town Square, working on an English essay. When he first heard about Common Grounds opening, he had anticipated doing a lot of homework there. It seemed like the perfect combination—studying to put him to sleep and coffee to keep him awake. But after his first visit two days ago, he immediately realized that concentrating on school work in that environment was going to be a problem. So today he decided to take advantage of the fresh air and the relative vacancy of the Square in order to catch up in English.
He hadn't been back to the coffee shop since that first visit. He felt like kind of a jerk, actually, because he'd waited until Sonny went into the storage room and then made a swift exit. It was a cowardly way to behave, and didn't exactly jive with his whole 'new experience' resolution, but he just didn't feel prepared to get through another conversation with the man. There was something about Sonny's open demeanor that startled Will and made him feel inadequate. He had never met anyone so comfortable in his own skin.
He was almost done with his outline when he was distracted by a sudden overpowering scent. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, finally identifying the sweet tangy aroma as…cinnamon.
"Sorry, am I interrupting your meditation time?" Before he even opened his eyes, Will knew what bright, warm smile awaited him. He looked up into the brown eyes, crinkled at the edges, and opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out.
Sonny's smile faltered a little at Will's silence. It was the first time Will saw him look anything but confident. He felt bad, but he had to admit to himself that it was a small relief to see a crack in the perfection. But he missed the smile, so he forced the words out of his mouth.
"Hey, sorry. I was…distracted. How's it going?" There we go. The smile was back, and Will greeted it with his own.
"Well, it was going fine until I spilled an entire bottle of flavored syrup all over myself. I'm actually just heading home to change my clothes." To emphasize his point, he held the front of his shirt away from his body, and Will noticed now that there was a dark wet splotch covering most of the fabric. He inhaled deeply.
"Oh, cinnamon."
One corner of Sonny's mouth quirked up. "Yeah, that's the one. God, I must reek, huh?"
"No!" Will said a bit abruptly. "I like the way you smell—I mean, you smell good…I like cinnamon," he finished lamely, a blush warming his face.
Sonny blinked rapidly, his dark eyelashes fanning his cheeks. "Sure, but would you put it in your coffee?" He raised his eyebrows at Will.
"I might. I've decided recently that I should be open to new experiences. The last one was pretty successful. Actually, I meant to thank you for your weird chocolate-pimping services. I didn't know what I was missing."
Sonny laughed. It's even better than the smile. "Well I'm glad I could help. If you stop by the coffee shop later, we could try out the cinnamon idea." He looked down at his shirt. "Just not, you know, the whole bottle."
"Sure, I'll be there." Will awkwardly tapped his pen against his notebook. "Well, I guess you better take your shirt off." Sonny's eyebrows shot up, and Will just about choked on his own tongue. "I mean, change your…you know what I mean…" He started intently scribbling along the margin of the paper.
Sonny cleared his throat. "You're right. This is kind of sticky." Will's pen slipped off the page and jabbed into his thigh. Sonny didn't seem to notice. "I'll see you later?"
"Yeah, later."
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Ever since he walked out of the storage room to find that Will had left, Sonny had been hoping to run into him again. Of course, he wasn't planning on being covered in a quart of syrup when that happened, but what can you do? In any case, it turned into a pretty interesting encounter, and as he opened the door to his apartment, he replayed the highlights in his mind.
He had chuckled to himself when he saw Will sitting on the couch with a notebook in his lap and his eyes closed. Maybe he was working on some sort of osmosis-related studying. But he looked so relaxed that Sonny almost didn't want to disturb him. He just couldn't help himself.
And he was so glad he did. "You better take your shirt off." Come on, even if that was just a slip of the tongue—hmm, Will's tongue—the blush that covered his cheeks told Sonny he wasn't the only one whose thoughts were less than pure. And then he almost impaled himself on his own pen at the word "sticky." He tried to play it cool, but as soon as it slipped out of his mouth, Sonny was grateful that he wasn't prone to blush easily.
Once inside his apartment, he stripped off his cinnamon-flavored shirt and headed to the bathroom to clean the syrup off of his chest and stomach. Standing in front of his closet to pick out a new shirt, he had to remind himself that he was just going back to work and that there was no guarantee that Will would even show up.
"It's not a date, it's not a date." He settled on a charcoal grey button-down shirt, but he rolled the cuffs up a few times in an effort to look more casual. Get yourself together, man.
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Will checked the time on his phone and then absentmindedly rubbed at the ink mark on his jeans. How long was he supposed to wait? Sonny had said "later," but how much later? He was trying desperately not to read too much into things, but he couldn't help the word "date" from constantly popping into his head. It's not a date.
Finally, after two more hours of staring blankly at the scribbles in his notebook, he shoved his things into his backpack and headed for Common Grounds. When he walked through the door, Sonny was nowhere in sight, so he settled down at the same table as last time and pulled out his notebook. At least he could pretend to be constructive.
Fifteen minutes later, he was doodling distractedly in his notebook when a steaming mug of coffee slid onto the table in front of him.
"Try that." Will looked up to see Sonny standing over him, a sleek grey shirt replacing his previously soaked one.
"I'm glad to see you're not…sticky anymore," he said with a slight blush. He blew over the lip of the mug to cool the coffee before taking a tiny, slurping sip. "Mmm, that's good."
Sonny grinned down at him. "Right? I knew you'd like it."
Holding the cup in front of his face, Will inhaled deeply. "It smells amazing, too. I was afraid it would be too sweet, but it isn't really sweet at all."
Sonny looked very proud of himself. "That's because I didn't use the syrup. It's ground cinnamon brewed right into the coffee. This way the spice comes out without overpowering the flavor of the coffee. I thought that would be more your speed."
"You're right, it's perfect." Will reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "How much do I owe you for this?" He was slightly startled by the feeling of Sonny's warm hand covering his, preventing him from opening the wallet.
"Don't worry about it. It's on me."
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When Sonny stepped out of his office to see Will sitting at the corner table, he couldn't stop himself from nervously smoothing the front of his shirt. He quickly prepared Will's drink and softly approached him, appreciating the chance to watch without being observed himself.
Will had his left elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. With his right, he was scrawling on the notebook in front of him. His eyes were lowered, and his downy eyelashes fluttered slightly as his gaze moved across the page. When he raised the pen to his mouth and bit down on the end of it, Sonny almost tripped over his own feet. As he got closer to the table, he noticed that Will only appeared to be working; the entire sheet of paper was covered with different versions of the same word: "Cinnamon." He had written in print, cursive, and block letters, among others, until there was almost no blank space remaining. Sonny smiled to himself.
"Try that."
"I'm glad to see you're not…sticky anymore." The pink warmth spreading across Will's cheeks, combined with the image of his full lips puckered over the rim of his coffee mug, made Sonny's heartbeat speed up.
He was beyond pleased that Will liked his offering. When Will took out his wallet, Sonny reached out to stop him without thinking.
"Don't worry about it. It's on me." Suddenly nervous, he let go of Will's hand. He stood there awkwardly, his arms hanging by his sides, while Will put his wallet away. When their eyes met again, a small smile appeared on Will's face.
"Do you want—I mean, do you have time to sit? With me, that is?" Will glanced down and all at once became very interested in the handle of his coffee mug.
Sonny took a slow breath in order to prevent himself from shouting "yes!" and scaring the wits out of everyone in the café.
"Sure. How about I grab something for myself and then come back and join you?"
"Great. Sounds like a plan."
Sounds like a date, Sonny thought as he walked away.
