“Dude, I love Mexican,” Isaac’s hands went down to wrap around Scott’s sharp cheeks and brought their faces together. Their helmets dropped on the floor with a loud thud. Isaac’s lips tasted like mint. Scott traced his lower lip with his tongue, tasting the delicious freshness of his breath. Scott knew he wasn’t only talking about the food.
“Isaac!” Scott said through his half closed lips. Isaac separated his face a little from his, his hands not letting go of his face. Isaac looked down at him, a wild smirk of his face.
Scott struggled to come up with words, “I can eat alone. It’s okay.”
With the same wild smirk, Isaac lowered down to kiss Scott again, this time, Scott found it hard to want to let go, “You’re not going alone.” It was then that Scott knew that Isaac knew.