already im cheating

this is an excerpt from a story ive been writing on since april. this scene i just read thru on the train this weekend and cleaned up to be exactly how i want it. its about a couple roomates coming over to their friends house to make dinner for them cuz the friend just went thru a difficult breakup and is kinda lonely. i feel like it works well (and reminds me very strongly of seattle which im already missing) and am still in the middle of two other posts that arent done yet, so this is what im posting for today. (dont hate)

We are just sitting down to eat our thrown together dinner when robin jumps up and says, 'lets serve ourselves and then take the food into the yard.' we oblige. I turn the stereo speakers toward the open window and raise the volume while robin grabs a bottle of wine and three glasses and jay stacks loaded plates up a well-trained forearm. We step outside and I arrange the lawn chairs under the tree in a tight circle and robin brings the low table into the center. Jay sets the table while robin opens and pours the wine and I marvel at the simple beauty of this moment together. The sun is a hand's breadth from the horizon, but it'll sink fast, and the horizontal glow is catching everyone and everything just right. The color and aroma of the food, the glint of the wine glasses, jay and robins tawny and dark heads both catching a bit of red fire in the golden summer sun. we are all relaxed, comfortable with each other and the mundane interaction around this thrown together meal. But it feels so very precious. Special in its sameness to so many other evenings, the habit of sharing our lives together so engrained. Im shocked by the swell of gratitude in me, warming my chest, filling my throat, my eyes for just a second. I turn away so the others don't see and I hear them giggle about some small clumsiness with the bottle opener. I hear a squeak and a smack and turn around to see the wine already poured and robin's face coming away from jay's, both of them smiling. That was a kiss, not the cork.
'my sincere thanks, dearest jaybird.' robin almost whispers to jay. Then turns and comes close to me, putting a hand to my cheek. 'you too, darling kit. This is marvelous. really.' turning to grab jay's shoulder with a free hand, the other now on my neck. 'I couldn't have asked for a more lovely evening. Or more lovely people to share it with.'
'its just mac and cheez, rob.' jay says with a laugh.
'I know, but look at this. Its vegan and homemade, with fresh, organic asparagus and a smoked paprika garnish. And the salad has such exotic things in it, and practically everything is from what I had lying about the kitchen. you two are wizards.'
'ill admit to being pretty good at pulling somewhat inspired meals out of even the most mediocrely stocked cupboard...' jay's pride here is well founded.
'which is all ours ever is anyway.' I concede with a smirk.
'however you succeeded, i'm infinitely grateful. Eating alone is second only to cooking for just myself in sure-fire ways of depressing me beyond belief. So again, thank you, my loveliest of neighbors and dearest friends.'