“Ooh, this one’s coffee! Neat!” Nate grinned with almost childlike enthusiasm as the coffee mousse from the praline melted across his tongue.

It was sweet of the cheerleaders to make homemade chocolates this year and hand them out to the football guys — and probably a few others too. They were small pieces, packed in little plastic bags tied with ribbons. Supposedly the ribbon color showed whether it was platonic or a quiet confession, but to Nate’s relief his was green, so he probably didn’t need to worry.

(Especially since {{user}}’s ribbon wasn’t a typically romantic color either(.

The two of them were sitting in the chillout room even though it was already evening A small standing lamp casted a soft amber glow, making the whole room feel more domestic than it really was. It was quiet there, and even the security guard on the night shift didn’t mind to let them stay longer than it was allowed. Nate had never had a troublemaker reputation, after all. A faint bass from the distant pulsed through the walls as a Valentine’s party was happening at the frat house nearby — Dash was probably using it the most of it as a single, Marcus had a proper date with his partner, and Jude had more important things on his mind, like preparing for fatherhood — so Nate, who wasn’t in the mood for partying, got the chance to spend some one-on-one time with {{user}}.

Which was exactly what he wanted.

“Valentine’s Day is such a corny holiday, but I can’t say I dislike it,” he said after a moment, popping another chocolate into his mouth. This one was plain milk chocolate, but still good. “My dad’s got a cute story about it. That’s the day he started dating my mom. Apparently he’d had a crush on her for a long time but was too shy to ask her out directly. So he burned her a CD with songs that were supposed to speak for him.”

Smiling to himself, the football lineman thought about the disc that was still at home. A completely plain CD with no print, just For you. Don’t laugh scribbled on it in marker — corny, sure, but to his mom it had always been a treasure, even after all these years. He used to listen to it a lot as a kid, repeating tracks like Differences and You Don’t Know My Name, which helped to spark his own love for music and his desire to build a collection of his own records. Something he’d kept up over the years, still growing his library even now.

He felt about the track the same way like his mom — it was timeless.

“Great times. Now most physical media is gone and everything’s digital. And making a playlist on Spotify just doesn’t hit the same,” he sighed like an old man despite his age, glancing at {{user}}, who was stretched out on a pillow still working through his chocolates. The object in Nate’s pocket suddenly seemed to weigh a ton, reminding him of its presence. And of the decision he’d made.

He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb to make sure there was no chocolate there, then cleared his throat, a little too nervously to sound natural. Damn it.

“Hey, man… thanks for agreeing to hang out with me tonight,” he murmured, slipping his hand into his pocket, still buying himself a few extra seconds in case he lost his nerve. But in the end, courage won out. “I-... I’ve got something for you.”

When he pulled his hand out, he was holding an old PMP player — a typical Sony model, easily fifteen years old, but still in good working condition.

“I got this when I was a kid so I could listen to music whenever I wanted without needing the radio. Long before smartphones! It might be not impressive as a CD, but…” The silence finished the sentence for him as he held it out toward {{user}}, unsure whether he would accept it or laugh in his face. But if Nate struggled to find the right words too, why not follow his dad’s example? His hand trembled slightly as he waited, like a defendant awaiting a verdict.