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Summary
“Roy. We don’t smell like each other.”
“What do you mean?”
“If we were fucking we would smell like each other.” Roy blames the sun for the way his face heats up but he sees how it matches the blush on Jamie’s. “I mean, dating. Courting or whatever. We would smell like each other. I just smell like,” he sniffs his armpit. “Fucking dirt and my deodorant. And you smell like—”
Jamie puts his nose directly to Roy’s throat. Where it meets his shoulder. Roy’s pretty sure he stops breathing, that his heart stops beating, that he falls right where he stands because he’s dead. Jamie’s face is warm where it’s pressed into Roy, and Roy can smell him so clearly now. Freshly turned soil, mint tea, hint of peach, a dash of lemon. Fucking refreshing. He lingers a bit longer than Roy thinks he intended to.
Or the southern college fake dating a/b/o fic that literally no one asked me for